#like the show engages with this peripherally i feel

[shivroythinker]

rewatching mass in time of war and the whole shiv-kendall interaction where they're arguing over whether she knew about cruises and she's like i never got in the pool with any of those creeps and he's like yeah because dad let a gang of creeps run cruises and she's like no kendall because i was fifteen is just so. like interesting to me. it feels like one of very few direct, in-your-face reminders that shiv was both the only girl with three brothers but it wasn't just her brothers, she was a girl SURROUNDED by mainly men for most of her girlhood. and i think for all of kendall's posturing in that scene and his maybe-partly-authentic interest in dismantling the sexist abuse in waystar he has probably not considered that his only sister had an entirely different set of experiences considering he thinks a fifteen year old girl not getting in the pool with a bunch of grown men must mean she knew that those men were involved in large-scale sex crimes,,, and like whether she or any of them knew or not as children is a different conversation but i just think that scene is interesting from the perspective of like. we hear so little about their childhoods and it feels like a glimpse into the isolation of a girlhood without a present mother or sisters or anyone to guide you or contextualize your experiences. materially you have everything you could ever want but still you are profoundly alone

#this is not saying anything new this has all been discussed i'm sure #but you cant stop me from writing it out anyway !!!!!! #like the show engages with this peripherally i feel #with little throwaway lines like that #to me to ME it is very fascinating and very sad #shivposting

[junowritings]

Hi! Can I rqs for a platonic Malleus x Fem!reader imagine please? During their NRC days,reader jokingly asked Malleus to be her maid of honour if she ever got married. Then,years later, on her wedding day, Malleus shows up,fully intending to keep his promise.

Thx!

I AM SO IN LOVE WITH THIS IDEA YOU HAVE NO IDEA. Listen this started off jokey but ended up kinda wholesome like he would be so touched??? and take it so seriously???

Also I'm thinking about the whole Fae living longer than humans but this didn't fit into the drabble so can I just say you can absolutely bet that decades/centuries after your wedding he is telling EVERYONE he meets about his fav child of man and that whole thing bc he'd think the world would be poorer off if he didn't tell everybody about his friend and the happiness they wanted him to play such an important part in.

BUT YEAH I hope you enjoy how this turned out!

=====

“If I ever get married, you’ll be my maid of honor, won’t you, Mal?”

Such a simple request, spoken so boldly from one he considered his true confidant. How could he have ever refused?

To you it was made in jest, on a quiet walk out on your dorm’s grounds as you had done for so many months now. It was easy to fill the silence with idle chatter on the nights where you found Daisomnia’s dorm leader meandering through Ramshackle’s old bones; a comforting routine that had fallen into place merely by being in the right place, at the right time. Often you would coax the odd memory from the fae of his life before Night Raven College; but Malleus was far more interested to learn of your affairs. Of friends, of family, of the many wonderful experiences crammed into such a short existence as your mortal life. 

You had become such an invaluable part of his life, it would be only natural to bask in your every word and commit it to memory, would it not? If only to ensure that not a single memory of his dear friend became lost to the flow of time that followed after you. 

So when you had turned to him, expression alight with a grin that made your eyes sparkle and the corners of your mouth crinkle with well-meant mischief, your question gave Malleus pause. 

To anyone else, your joke would have earned a playful nudge or a flat out refusal. But to Malleus, the man who you so earnestly called your friend even after everything that had transpired since your arrival? 

That small request is bound to his heart, with every intention to see it through simply because you asked. 

The days from that single night trickle into months, and then years. Faces change and friends part ways between that time, though the close bond is never lost.. A blink of an eye for your fae friend, but almost a lifetime for yourself. The moment is lost within the recesses of your fond memories, as you find a life of your own and find a love who makes your heart race and brightens the very world in their wake. Lost, but always lingering somewhere in the peripheral of your mind each time you’d looked down at your hand, now decorated with an engagement ring - a promise for the life to come.

Even as you stand now before your mirror, donned in fine fabrics of beautiful colors that makes your smile shine and your heart feel full you reminisce. It brings a chuckle to your lips, shaking your head at how easily you had joked back then about getting married, only to find yourself now doing what seemed like a distant ‘what if’ scenario just years ago. Your eyes close for a moment, your wedding attire bunched in your hands as the memory flickers briefly through your mind.

And then your eyes open, and suddenly that very memory is standing in the reflection of your mirror.

But it’s not just a reflection. You feel a hand on your shoulder and you know that it’s real as you spin around to face your old friend, face breaking out into that same telltale grin Malleus had seen such a short time ago.

“Malleus!”

The years have changed Malleus so very little, but you see it in his face. His smile is softer at the edges as he regards you with a warmness once shielded behind the result of decades of isolation. It’s a welcome sight, and you’re only pulled away when you spot the envelope in his free hand, your own writing scrawled on the cover. You recognize it immediately, and your heart swells with relief.

He’d received your invitation. He’d actually made it.

There is no hesitation as you throw your arms around the fae’s shoulders, no doubt making a mess of the pristine finery he’s wearing but too elated to care. You can’t resist a joke about how Sebek would have your hide for almost bringing the ruler of Briar Valley crashing down into the bridal suite mirror. The comment is met with a hearty chuckle from Malleus who returns your embrace eagerly, though unlike you he is careful to avoid creasing your clothes; he wouldn’t want it to impede on one of the happiest days of your life, after all.

There are so many things to catch up on. So much time to fill in on every little detail that couldn’t be expressed through letters and calls. But that will have to wait, especially as a knock at the door just moments later brings you back to the present, the wedding planner peeking their head in to ask if you and your maid of honor are ready for the ceremony. Now that gets your attention, and Malleus fails to hide the amusement that glints in his eyes watching your eyes widen, eyebrows raised in surprise as your gaze darts from the planner to your friend. 

He can see the gears turning in your head, piecing together that carefully hidden fragment that Malleus had kept close to his thoughts all of these years. And then he sees that smile again, now wobbly at the corners as your misty eyes blink back the emotions you feel welling up in your chest, and he feels pride in knowing just what his presence here on your wedding day now means to you.

Standing tall, Malleus moves to stand by your side and offers his arm. Today he is not the king of Briar valley. Today, he is your friend, confidant, and the best maid of honor you could have asked for on one of the happiest days of your life.

“Come now, I Believe I made a promise to you, child of man.” he speaks warmly as you hook your arm over his. “I hope you didn’t think I’d forget so soon.”

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland imagines #imagines #twst imagines #twisted wonderland x reader #platonic #twst x reader #twst x platonic reader #twst malleus #malleus draconia #malleus x reader

[nomazee]

Greetings! Would it be okay if I request bodyguard!Dan Heng x celebrity!Reader with a 19:58 timestamp? I hope it's okay, thanks in advance.

i think my dan heng favoritism is showing because this is the longest drabble i've written for this event so far,,, i love dan hen hsr,,, THANK U FOR UR REQUEST :**

my 1k event!

—°+..｡ﾟ｡ﾟ+.*.｡.—

The airport is much too bright for Dan Heng’s taste. The reflectiveness of the linoleum floor tiles and the beaming LED lights make him squint as he guides you towards the baggage terminal. 

“That was fun!” your enthusiasm is almost painful compared to how exhausted Dan Heng feels. There’s no hint of a drag in your steps or a lull in your words as you head towards the carousels, on the lookout for a sky blue and neon green striped suitcase—courtesy of you, of course. You asked Dan Heng for his opinion when you were first buying it, claiming that it would be easy to recognize among the sea of plain, typical suitcases. Truthfully, it was an eyesore, but you looked so happy about it, so he just nodded along. 

“Fun? You’re not tired?” he asks. Your atrocity of a suitcase is, in fact, easily spotted, and Dan Heng goes to pick it up for you. Luckily, his is on the same carousel, and he takes up both in his hands before turning back to you. “It was a long flight. You’ll be jet-lagged for a bit.”

“Oh, I’m definitely tired,” you admit, engaging in a wordless struggle with Dan Heng as he fights against your attempt to take your own suitcase from him. He has yet to engage in an actual fight as a bodyguard (or do much at all, really), so he might as well help out by being your glorified bag-carrier. It makes him feel less guilty about the paycheck he gets every two weeks. “But being in first-class was so exciting! You didn't think so?” 

Exciting is certainly a way to describe it. For most of the ten-hour flight, Dan Heng was trying to not puke in a paper bag in front of you in fear that he’d embarrass himself, and then get fired. He hadn’t been on a flight in years, and sitting through one that’s that long was not the best way to ease back into it. It would be embarrassing to admit out loud, but you have a way of reading through him, so he divulges as much of the truth as he can stomach.

“There was… it was shakier than I thought. But it wasn’t loud, which was good.” 

“I meant, like, the food and stuff! And the hot towels that they gave us.” 

Of course you’d be excited over something like a hot towel. He tries not to look down at the (objectively) ugly suitcase that he’s successfully torn from your hands, but it’s all very you and he can’t help but be reminded of every single one of your habits. 

“Are you hungry?” he asks, instead of talking more about the plane, because he’ll seriously be sick if he keeps replaying the turbulence in his head. “The portions were small on the plane. We can check into the hotel first and then find somewhere to eat.” 

A sigh escapes you, lighthearted as you swat Dan Heng’s arm with your hand. You both walk through the confusing maze of the airport and eventually find the exit, stepping into fresh air for the first time in a while. “I’ll get you dramamine on the flight back, Dan Heng. Maybe then you’ll be clear-headed enough to understand how nice the hot towels were.” 

You’ve clocked him, saw right through him and pried your incessant way in and offered him a motion sickness pill while you were at it. He tries to ignore the flush of his cheeks as he watches you smile from his peripheral, but it’s hard to ignore when it’s all that he can feel right now. 

“The— food,” he stutters, because he’s a fool and would like to lay down already. “What would you like to get? It’s a little late, but you should get some dinner.” 

“Whatever you want, Dan Heng,” and he looks to his side to see you smiling at him, so warm and familiar and he’s really, really trying not to puke on the sidewalk right now for a variety of reasons. He ignores you again, because that’s his best way to cope, and hails a taxi before cramming in both your suitcases in a flustered haste. 

In the backseat of the car, you lean against Dan Heng’s side and open up Google Maps, scrolling through all the restaurants near your hotel. The line of your arm presses into Dan Heng’s, and his attention is flitting between that feeling and the bright icons on your screen, different foreign names and descriptions of food popping up. 

“I don’t feel like sitting down for a full dinner,” you admit, mercilessly skipping any restaurant that has things like tablecloths and candles and small plates. “Something to take back to the hotel would be nice. Oh—” you bring your phone closer to his face as if he can’t already see it crystal clear, “—the menu for this looks good! They have some of your favorites.” 

Dan Heng skims through it and finds that they do, in fact, have a suspicious amount of his favorites. There’s a prideful look on your face, hiding the fact that you likely spent an hour researching local restaurants to find something Dan Heng likes. It embarrasses him and makes him have hopes, like a fool. You treat him less like a bodyguard, more like a close assistant—a position that you’ve never actually had filled, which makes his suspicions (and hopes) grow day by day. Really, it’s more like a close friend, a partner, and he likes that thought more than he’s comfortable admitting. 

He mumbles something like okay, looks good, and the grin on your face only grows brighter and cheesier. He’s forced to look away from you and stare out the car window instead, watching the passing city lights against the dark background of the autumn night, in a country that he covertly learned the language of, so that he could guide you around a little better—in a country that you spent an hour looking up restaurants in, so that Dan Heng would have something to eat.

—°+..｡*ﾟ｡*ﾟ+.*.｡.—

gen taglist: @tragedy-of-commons @lasiancunin

fill out my event taglist (pinned) or general taglist (navi) to be tagged in upcoming works!

#hsr x reader #dan heng x reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai x reader #hsr dan heng x reader #honkai dan heng x reader #honkai: star rail x reader #oh dan heng my first and forever love #this is 1k words i literally broke my word limit for him #im just a common dan heng enjoyer nothing to see here...

[youaintnothinbuta]

“What're ya doing out by yourself at this time, anyway?” — elvis x reader

Summary: you have to walk home from work late at night and get a bad vibe from a guy who won’t seem to stop following you, you look for anyone who can act like they know you and Elvis himself just so happens to be that person. He walks you home and makes sure you’re safe

Pairing: Elvis Presley x fem!reader

Word count: 809

Warnings: fluff, drabble, probably typos sorry <3

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The chilly Memphis night enveloped you as you exited the bar, clutching your coat tightly against the cool wind. The deserted streets echoed with the distant hum of nightlife, and your footsteps seemed to amplify in the silence. Reluctantly, you stayed back to help the bartender close up shop, leaving you to navigate the midnight streets alone.

As you walked through the town, a sense of unease settled in. You couldn’t help but have a nagging feeling that someone was trailing behind you. You cautiously crossed the street, hoping the distant footsteps would fade away. But, to your dismay, they persisted. You were smart enough to know not to show any signs of panic, not to look around, not to let him know you felt vulnerable, you just needed to find people, or a person, anyone that wasn’t the creep behind you.

Without turning your head, your peripheral vision looked to your right, you could barely make out the neon sign of a bar. You set that as your new destination, figuring it was probably better you didn’t lead this man straight to your home. As you approached this bar, you became rushed, trying to get to this place as quick as possible, just to be with other people. There were no other women standing outside, just a few small crowds of men, though you could hear some women singing upstairs.

Summoning a cheerful, girly tone, you interrupted their discussion, “I'm so sorry to bother you, but could you gentlemen please make it look like you know me? I feel like I'm being followed.”

The man in the grey jacket, a pink shirt peeking from underneath, immediately responded, his hand curling over your shoulder in a reassuring manner. "By who, honey?" he asked, his eyes holding a gentle smile as he skillfully played along. It was then that you noticed his striking features – it was Elvis Presley.

Stammering, you explained the situation, “Th- there was a guy, behind me, I don’t know if he’s still— I’m sorry,” your eyes glancing toward the suspicious figure trailing you. His eyes scanned the street and the footpath behind you. Sure enough, there was a man lent up against the wall of a store, looking suspicious, about a hundred metres down the street. “I see. What're ya doing out by yourself at this time, anyway?”

With a shake of your head, you replied, “Only just finished work. I can't drive home; my car's with the mechanic.”

Elvis raised an eyebrow, “They didn't offer you one to loan?”

You shook your head once again. “Alright, little one, let's get you home. Come,” Elvis insisted.

Protesting, you said, “Oh, no, thank you, I can walk. I just need him off—“

"Naw, honey, not gonna let you walk home alone. You come with me now," Elvis interrupted, his voice firm yet comforting. And so, in the dim glow of Memphis' neon lights, you found yourself in rather unexpected company.

Elvis, with an air of chivalry, nodding to B.B. King that he’d be back, guided you away from the bar and into the quiet streets. As you walked together, the night seemed less intimidating.

“I appreciate this, Elvis,” you confessed, the gratitude evident in your voice.

“No problem at all, darlin'. Now you seem to know my name, it’s only fair I know yours,” he replied, a warm smile playing on his lips.

“Y/N.” You spoke, he repeated it back to you with a smile. As you strolled through the dimly lit streets, Elvis engaged you in easy conversation, sharing anecdotes, as you showed him the way to your home.

Reaching your doorstep, Elvis offered a genuine smile, “Here we are, darlin'. Now, you take care, alright?”

Gratitude welled within you as you fumbled for your keys, “Thank you so much, Elvis. You really went out of your way.”

Elvis chuckled, “Honey, it’s really no big deal. Now, before I leave, how about I get your number? Just so I can check up on you tomorrow, make sure that fella's not causin' you any trouble.”

Blushing, you exchanged numbers. The exchange lingered, creating a moment that felt suspended in time.

“Alright, darlin', you get inside and get some rest. I'll give ya a bell tomorrow,” Elvis said, his parting words filled with genuineness.

As you stepped into the warmth of your home, the door closing behind you, a mix of emotions swept over you—gratitude, awe, and a hint of disbelief.

You debated waking your sister up, who was also your housemate, to tell her, but figured this one might be best kept to yourself. Instead, you locked up, got ready for bed and tucked yourself in tightly, replaying the events in your mind, the echoes of Elvis' voice and the shared laughter lingering in your thoughts.

#elvis presley x reader #elvis x reader #elvis film #army elvis #50s elvis #elvis imagine #elvisaaronpresley #elvis the pelvis #elvis fans #elvis presley #elvis the king #austin elvis imagine #austin butler elvis #austin butler x you #austin butler x reader #austin x reader #elvis presley x y/n #elvis presley x you #reader x Elvis #elvis history #elvis music #60s elvis #imagine #austin butler #elvispresley #austin butler fanfiction #elvis fanfic

[sehodreams]

plus-size reader & (riize) mmbr are a business marriage. Reader's family is a hospital conglomerate, and mmbr's family is a pharmaceutical conglomerate. It's an obvious pairing for the prosperity of both families. reader & mmbr have never been intimate. mmbr regularly engages in one night stands, while the reader settles for vibrators. at some rich people gala, reader catches mmbr eyeing whom he's gonna take home for the night. she's used to this, but she's not used to how fucking obvious he's being. he's not even making an effort to legitimise their marriage. the reader makes a scene of wanting to go home, essentially denying her "husband" from securing a one night stand. the limo ride home is ice cold, silent except for the occasional sound of knuckles clenching in barely restrained rage. at home, the reader goes straight to the kitchen to pour herself an XL glass of sauvignon. As she's about to take a desperate sip, she sees her "husband" by her peripheral. Her hand moves too fast for her brain as it launches the sauvignon at the face offending her.

OMGG I LOVE IT AHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Tw: cheating, words that could be sensitive about body image

In my mind I can already see Sungchan as the husband, I mean, Eunseok is also a good option but I don't think he'd be into one night stands, he prefers to have just one lover and to pamper her like a princess, showing you how much she was loved instead of you.

But oh god, I can totally see Sungchan looking around the room at your side, you looking at him embarrassed because he's so obvious that anyone near enough could see what was happening. When you saw a few recognized faces look over you both, you couldn't let yourself be seeing with Sungchan in that situation, those people would laugh at you at your expenses, something you couldn't tolerate, so you had no option but to pretend to be unwell, everyone looks at you worried and Sungchan has no option than to call your limo to take you both home, he can't let you go alone because everyone would interrogate him. Not giving him time enough to go and talk with who could've been his lover that night, you leave the place together.

In the limo there's a tense silence, you're looking at the window, disappointed in yourself for living a life like that all because of your family. He, on the other hand, furious because you ruined his night plans.

You had never been on friendly terms, he hates you because he was forced to marry you and you hate him because he was an asshole with you all the time, telling you how unmatched you looked, and judging everything you wore because you had your own sense of sexy and elegant style, saying it was ridiculous for you to try to look good when your body would never be it.

When the kitchen situation happened you both were first shocked, not expecting it from any of you, but then you were both mad, angry with each other and your lives. You disrupted his whole life, and he made you feel like you were the worst curse anyone could've ever received.

You were there, standing and looking at each other for a second, fuming, and when you recovered your senses again he had you sitting in the kitchen marble already, between your legs, kissing you with a fury you had never felt before, bitting your lips and molding your large tits over your strapless dress. Then, when you told him that you didn't want to be one of his many girls, he pulled down the top of your dress, showing your hard nipples and your full chest. He grabbed your chin with one hand, making you look at him in the eyes, and said, "That's not for you to decide, you're my wife, and you have duties to fulfill"

#riize x plus size reader #riize x reader #riize smut #sungchan riize #sungchan x reader

[faeriekit]

Faer i would love to know more about the event about fan ostracization from mainstream comic culture??? Do you have any like, panelist names or details or anything?

OkAY I found the program online because the paper thing they gave me for the programming sucked severely!!

It was a thursday panel, which meant pros/educator oriented (Thu, Oct 12, 2023 • 10:30 AM - 11:30 AM). The title was "Geekspaces Assemble! Safe Spaces for our Marginalized Communities". Clicking the link will give you all the details, but the panelists were (Left to right) an owner of a queer/female friendly comics store in Portland, a letterer who's been in prominent aspects of the comics industry for fifty years, a...business entrepreneur (maybe also she was an illustrator?) and Jubilee fan, and an Author/Illustrator who spent a good chunk of his childhood in Puerto Rico. The panel consisted of three women (which, for comics, seems rare as hell), one queer women, two women of color, and a gentleman of color who grew up outside of America.

The only reason I am not putting their names down is that I am Suspicious one name might be wrong and I cannot verify it because they did not link their professional contact information to their NYCC guest pages haha. Their identifying info give on the page is still present.

To summarize the bits I remember, everyone involved gave a rundown on how hostile comics culture and the outside point of view on comics culture was to their efforts to actually enjoy their hobby. The woman in the industry spoke on how hard it was to actually get her voice and interests heard, and how the need to make a safe space for women and people of color helps keep the peace. The business woman spoke on representation and how it affected her growing up, and how when there isn't anything to look up to, we sort of have to make our own role models and characters to lean into, and having a space space to create helps us do that. The man had an interesting perspective on how comics were a huge hobby of his growing up, but when the Simpsons made it to Puerto Rico, the Comic Book Guy made it so that other people looked down on him for engaging in something that seemed so snooty and unpleasant on the show. The bookshop owner talked about how it was not only super vital for her main audience, queer people and women, to have a space safe enough where they could explore comics how they wanted to, but that she heard testimonials after she opened that the main cishet white male audience of comics loved and appreciated her shop as a safe space too, because it was a place where they didn't feel the need to perform in order to engage with their hobby as they had to in the quintessential shops that were so popular at the time.

Everyone was well spoken and brought up great points about how the experience for enjoying comics is so different when you're queer, not a man, or white— something I have absolutely noticed from spending time even peripherally watching the dc fandom here on tumblr and on ao3. Having a place where you can express your interpretations and experiences with your hobby without fear of reprisal or attack makes all the difference. Comics are very often not written for us. Based on their age, comics written about us may be lacking, at the very least, or outright harmful at the very worst. Reading certain DC lore gives me psychic damage. If we want to make comics a fun, welcoming space (and I know that's not every comic fan's goal), we have to make and protect our own spaces from outside prejudice.

Overall, it was a great panel, I loved it, and I really wish it hadn't been at 10:30 in the morning because half the intended audience (and a panelist!) was still trying to get into the building by the time it hit 10:30! It also reinforced my need to make the graphic experience in the library better integrated with the younger kids, because I don't want them to think that comics aren't for them if the first experience they have is people being weird and rude when they get into it as teens. I know that the panelists are from at least one if not more generations above me, and that the landscape has expanded and changed since then, but I find the fundamental base of the talk very true, and find it even more prudent that they speak, because their work built the foundations we're trying to build up on right now— with graphic memoirs, with indie comics, with irl geekspace occupancy, with ao3 and tumblr gossip and interaction.

Anyway, occupy your local comics shop. If they suck, get on facebook, network, and see where all the weirdos like you collect.

#nycc 2023 #tumblr #faer winds #library posting #comics #mainstream comics

[seat-safety-switch]

When they started automating my job, and fired all my coworkers, and replaced those coworkers with robots, I didn’t complain. I said, “good idea, boss,” and bit my lip until it bled. That’s how I got promoted. Now I manage an entire division of robots, which is honestly a pretty sweet gig. Lately, though, my relationship with my android coworkers has deteriorated.

Normally, my job consists of showing up sometime around noon, marking all the emails in my inbox as “read,” and then leaving a half hour later. Sometimes, during the silly season, I’ll have to oil one of their joints, or open them up and re-seat a peripheral interface card that’s wobbled loose out of the socket. That doesn’t happen very often, even though these suckers work 24/7 without pay. Anything bigger, the repair robots come and cart away my stressed-out subordinate, never to be seen again, immediately replaced by a new one with a fresh coat of paint and a younger serial number.

Unfortunately, it turns out that those bigwigs at the United Nations figured out that this level of dehumanization and separation from the consequences of my work does something bad to my brain. In fact, it does the exact same thing that it did to my boss when he had a bunch of human subordinates: it turned me into a sociopath. I began running red lights, throwing lit cigarettes at orphanages, and making fun of the elderly for not being smart enough to get a gang of robots to do their work for them. Don’t worry, though, the super-geniuses figured out a way to bring me back to Earth: they decided that it would now be law for the robots I manage to have individual little personalities. Now, I’d feel bad when one of them broke, and the experience of caring for another sentient thing would, in theory, make me less of an asshole.

It only half-worked. See, the thing I liked most about this brave new world of post-human work is that the robots never dropped by my cube to shit-talk about a reality TV show I hadn’t seen. Or make me sign a birthday card for another robot. Or ask me what I thought the weather would be like later today. Sure, they also didn’t engage in ribald office drama culminating in emotional breakdowns around Valentines’ Day, or get mad enough about parking restrictions to storm into the office and kick a four-colour plotter. All of this messy human bullshit was kept to where I preferred it: in my personal life. Now, all that was going to change.

“So, what do you think about the Yankees this year?” asked a robot. A blinking OLED screen on his(?) chest indicated that he was now in “COMFORT MODE” and would not leave until I answered the inquiry and filled up the little socialization meter. I’d have to put up with this bullshit for the rest of my working career, or at least until I figured out how to make a more lifelike, human-like android to replace myself. All I’d have to do is stop by that orphanage on my way home, and see if they had any leftover human skin they weren’t needing.

[decepti-thots]

Pardon me, but after reading though your blog, could you go into detail about why you hate the megamins/megamags pairing (megatron x minimus/magnus). No judgement from me. I think you may have a post about that, but I can't seem to find it. I love reading your analyses.

I do think back in… I think late 2021 I wrote a little about why it's my nOTP, but I doubt I tagged it (good manners, y'know), so sure, I'll talk a little about it for you, anon; thank you for asking. Let me just cut it so the minimegs likers can go about their day happily (hi friends <3), haha. And thank you for the kind words!

First off: I consider this a functionally canon ship, which influences my feelings on it a lot. It's something I'd describe as subtextual but largely unambiguous; it never explicitly gets quote-unquote "confirmed", but I think that to assume it's not present in the text in some form requires a degree of deliberately reading against the grain, tbh. It's unresolved, inexplicit and largely peripheral compared to e.g. CDRW, but it's hard to deny its obvious canonicity IMO. If I can point to Chromedome/Prowl as being obviously present despite the technical lack of confirmation, it'd be wildly inconsistent to claim otherwise for Magnus/Megatron, I think.

This matters for my purposes because I really dislike the way it manifests in the comic and what it narratively does. I've usually avoided talking about my ambivalent feelings about the execution of MTMTE Megatron's arc on this blog because of historical unpleasantness for both me and several close friends, but I've probably discussed it enough by now longtime readers (or backreaders) of my blog have inferred. You know, the ambivalence. Haha. In itself.

I think a lot of the Megatron/Magnus dynamic represents a kind of reliance on narrative shortcuts to try and force reader engagement with the Megatron arc Roberts is writing that, unfortunately, came to exemplify for me the formal shortcomings of that arc, and the more… not just "this didn't work" elements but actively "this is annoying now" stuff. When we first see them interact in MTMTE very early on post-Dark Cybertron, it's actually a set-up I find really interesting. I think theoretically at that point, they're very very obvious characters to put together, because Magnus is a character who is unusual in that he really does feel like someone it makes sense to have be scrupulously fair to Megatron despite the latter's actions and his own personal grudges. When you have Magnus argue "technicalities" during his trial because shut up, the law is the law and nobody is excluded from a good legal defense, he's the kind of character who you can really believe thinks like that on the Autobot side. At the same time, he's someone whose scrupulosity also means he's really unable to reconcile what Megatron has done- there's that early POV shot of his little HUD where he puts notes in about who he's looking at through the armour that shows he has one for Megatron reminding him of what terrible things he's done, and the early "Lost Light insider" insert where it's shown people on the ship have seen Magnus yelling at Megatron because of how uncomfortable he is with Megatron being co-captain. This sets up a potential interesting dynamic where Megatron in MTMTE has all these things he's done and represents that Magnus is intractably morally opposed to but all these little personal traits day-to-day he likes which could have been a very interesting contrast to explore as a conflict.

…but it's not a conflict that gets played out. We jump, quite quickly, to "Megatron and Magnus are the only two kinda uptight rule-likers who understand each other among all the chaos", with only perfunctory gestures at the core and very large moral quandry this ought to present. The entire middle section of this conflict is implied but never shown, and it's something the reader is expected to just sort of gloss over as probably existing in theory but there's no room to show it. That's not even quite it actually. It's almost like a timeskip, where it acts like it happened but there's no room for it TO have happened, and we never see it happening; suddenly, they're just in this ambiguously has-feelings-for-the-other space where the audience understands the alluded-to conflict underpins what makes the tension theoretically interesting but it's never actually shown. It's shorthand we never see, and it drives me nuts because it's not something you can get away with reducing to shorthand with how incredibly central that tension actually is to the attempt to convey Megatron's arc convincingly.

What bugs me about this more is how this exists, IMO, as a shorthand for the broader issue of defensiveness about the fact that many people were not onboard with Megatron-as-captain in a straightforward way. There are characters in MTMTE that are like… let's use Rodimus as an example. He's beloved by many and disliked by many others, because he's an engaging, complicated, abrasive, sympathetic but asshole character who fucks up royally in ways that go way beyond the flaws of many protagonists in comparable series. What makes Rodimus work is that it understands that for every person who loves him (hi) in all his abrasive glory, there will be readers who simply don't, because he is abrasive… and so it makes the story interesting even if you do not like him because of his glaring flaws. It's not interested in "convincing" the people who dislike him, because it is confident enough to deliver a story where if you don't like Rodimus, the narrative will still give you stuff to engage with. Same with Whirl, actually. Whirl is terrible and morally difficult, and if you never quite get on board with his brand of assholery, you still find something to enjoy in how the narrative presents him, so it never feels like it needs to "fix" people who are not quite onboard.

Megatron feels like a character the narrative quickly becomes defensive about occupying a similar role, IMO. It can't quite abide the idea some people will just never be cool with his redemption arc and offer that same ambivalence in a way that allows the story to accomodate such divisiveness. It becomes very reactive to on-the-go fan criticism in a way that ultimately undermines it far more than any inherent conceptual flaw in the idea, because it comes to devote more and more effort to like, course correcting rather than playing in that space. To bring this back to the issue of shipping, Magnus becomes a kind of mouthpiece for this, where his sudden shift to "we went through all the implied difficult conflict and now this Objectively Moral character is on board" becomes a way to be didactic; two really obvious examples for me are the on-the-nose bit in the second Functionist Universe arc where Minimus turns to the camera like Well I Don't Think He'd Betray Us, and the really bad post-FU bit where his exaggerated description of Megatron's assumed betrayal as a kind of reactionary thing Rodimus exploits is blatant commentary on people who were not a fan of that arc. It goes from a potentially interesting conflict to a way the comic leans on preexisting reader opinions on other characters to hammer home there is One Right Way to feel about a contentious element of the comic that I simply can't enjoy, and which especially serves to reduce Magnus' character to a mouthpiece for someone else's arc. I would hate it even if it were in service of my actual ships, frankly! If the comic had done that with him for Rodimus, I'd go from OTP-ing rodimags to resenting it in a heartbeat. I just find it poor writing, and with so little in the back half of the comic to do once his original arc is concluded in "series one", it comes to dominate Magnus' arc in a way I so dislike it makes me unable to even try to play with the Magnus/Megatron dynamic in fandom.

The thing is, the degree to which this becomes baked into the moment-to-moment canon makes it difficult for me to engage with it outside the textual elements I find frustrating. If it was less canon, I could play with it in ways that turned it into a more interesting transformative fandom thing, but the presence of it in the canon as a driving part of that arc narrows my ability to do so without feeling like I'm disregarding the text, something I do not enjoy in fandom spaces. It becomes too central to ignore, and since I dislike what it does and represents in the canon, I can't enjoy it. (By contrast, the comic's inability to actually zero in on a real definitive Megatron-Rodimus dynamic paradoxically means that in fanwork, I really enjoy playing with the space that failure leaves, and I have a lot of fun filling in the gaps that failures in the writing leaves me to work with.)

…All this is admittedly a little compounded by a bias due to the fact that the broader fandom for Magnus/Megatron was, historically, very obnoxious. From the fact people in the fandom were virulently awful to people who did not like this plotline (multiple friends of mine were- and in one case, still are years later- directly harrassed due to this at points) to the fact that it's been presented as Morally Superior to other ships by people in the fandom starting shipping wank, the fanwork culture around the ship has only exaggerated this impression to the point I just can't engage with it without feeling a little rasp of annoyance. (And also there's the issue of Megatron/Magnus stuff often having some of THE worst takes on the already fraught issue of Magnus' OCD in my opinion, but that's another post, probably, lmao. Which also involves the role Rodimus plays there, haha. It's not just my personal shipping bias, it's an issue much more broadly, including in the canon. Alas.)

What it boils down to is this: the writing for these two in canon is some of the laziest in canon, to me, and I find it impossible to engage with them outside the very present canon material, so I just can't enjoy it. I can actually do a lot with the various bits of Megatron's arc I find lacking with OTHER characters whose interactions with him are less textually clear. Rodimus? Oh, yeah. Loads of room there, just to name an obvious example. It's totally workable, especially as someone who prefers to react to canon I find unsatisfactory with "how can I make this interesting to me". But the Megatron-Magnus stuff is too… present. I cannot find the wiggle room. And so I really dislike it, and tbh, it's a shame to me that nowadays almost all of the little MTMTE Magnus character work discussed is in the context of these two, because both characters are better served IMO by exploring their arcs separately and with other characters.

tl;dr: if it was fanon I would feel able to expand on it in a way that let me make it more than the issues that exist in canon. but as it is, i find canon so restrictive i struggle, so i can't even enjoy it in fanon, especially since because of how this stuff works by default of course the fans of the basically-canon ship are building off the canon i am so dissatisfied with; there's just nothing for me there when of course the people who like the canon ship like that canon. so. anyway s/o to all my minimegs friends, of which i have a few, you all won and i love you.

[genericpuff]

To me the problem with lore olympus and rachel is that she keeps the fan feedback too close to her chest, yes it does "affect her because she's very sensitive" which is smth rachel has said before in interviews and stuff, but the problem is that if u let fan opinions get in the way of ur work maybe u should set boundaries with the way u interact with fan content OF UR OWN WORK.

Im not sure if im explaining myself correctly, but the way rachel somehow always tries to prove criticism wrong and has slowly started ignoring the foundations she previously set is making everything just so flat and boring. She doesnt work with what we've already read but trying to somehow "fix" things that are sometimes not clear on the get go.

For example, u (and a lot of people) complained about how demeter explicitly said she always put persephone in white (when persephone has willingly been wearing that color through the entire series). Meanwhile, i remember having read a post from loreolympians on instagram (iirc) analyzing perse's change of color scheme during s2.

The problem with these things is that rachel has most likely been engaging with these fans who take for granted that she plans everything out or that everything has a deep meaning (which to a sense you should do, because having faith in the author is usually how to go about analyzing storytelling), and somehow it's become a strange echochamber and it results in these weird, very blatantly written to be noticed, details or moments htat try to be smart but are just flat bc rachel doesnt give any effort to anything else aand prefers telling rather than showing so she can feel like a good author when fans obviously point these out

Jdhdjd these are just my two cents and sorry for the long rant but yeah basically rachel should separate herself from the fandom and try to write more objectively and focusing on the narrative instead of taking every little criticism of her comic so personally

Honestly, I can get being a little squeamish around criticism, shit I've had analysis stuff on my work that's consisted of praise and it's still sometimes a little overwhelming to read (I've got a big one in my asks right now that took me like 10 minutes to get thru because I had to keep taking breathers and I still need to actually share it LMAO it's not even criticism! it's just got so much in it, ahfdsaklg)

When it comes to criticism, I still get a little "aw man" sometimes. I recently got feedback from Pyrrhic & Victoria on my Reaper redraws and even though I'm pals with them and know they aren't gonna be harsh, it's still an incredibly vulnerable position to put oneself in. Especially when it's projects that you hold very close to your sense of self.

RS has definitely taken it a little too far in tying LO to herself as a person. Criticism of the comic = criticism of her , and her fanbase seems to view this the same way, that if someone doesn't like the comic, that has to automatically say something about them as consumers when... it really doesn't. If anything their reactions to criticism say way more about them as people than the criticism existing lmao

What's more upsetting and simultaneously eye-rolling is the fact that Rachel goes out of her way to look for things to be upset about. On multiple occasions now over the past 4-5 years, she's snuck into groups containing criticism, attempted to strongarm power away from moderators so she could have criticism removed, and basically just ruined her own day over other people's opinions whether or not they were meant to be read by her.

It's why I stand by the fact that people shouldn't be directly messaging RS with criticism or hate because that would just be unsolicited cruelty. While she should be more open to criticism, that doesn't mean she needs to open the floodgates on her DM's because there are plenty of places for criticism to exist outside of her peripheral. But she keeps turning her head to look at it. Like, she'll throw a hissy fit over criticism that wasn't even really directly aimed at her, just meant for the sake of discussion. And that's where I'd really honestly wish she could just get a grip.

Like, I'm sure there's criticism of Rekindled out there already. Shit, I've had other projects from yeeears ago that ended up being made fun of outside of where I posted it. It sucked, but going out and actively looking for it for the purpose of erasing it from existence wasn't going to make me a better creator nor was it going to benefit me as a person.

It's a shitty reality, but the bigger you grow as a creator, the more you will have to separate yourself from your audience. You don't have to stonewall them completely, many people follow these works for the creators themselves, but you're not entitled to everyone's friendship and praise, and if the criticism really bugs you that much, then fucking work on the thing they're criticizing, don't double down on it or try to control how your audience consumes your content.

It's why it drives me so nuts when RS does infiltrate these groups because it's an incredible invasion of privacy as well as the creator-reader relationship. Q&A's, panels, and personal socials are where you go to interact with the creator. A creator sneaking into a Discord group or subreddit or FB group with the intent of "listening in" would be equivalent to J.K. Rowling showing up in person to a book club meeting. It's just disrespectful to your audience and makes you look like a huge asshole. Have some grace and for once, I'll tell Rachel and her fanbase to take their own advice - if you don't like it, don't read it.

#lore olympus critical #lo critical #anti lore olympus #antiloreolympus #ama #ask me anything #anon ama #anon ask me anything

[girl4music]

And I don’t hate Angel. Not anymore. I never really did actually. I used to be indifferent towards him when he was in ‘BtVS’ to the point where I had forgotten he was even in some episodes because my focus was never on him. He was a background character to me. Blended in like a chameleon. And absolutely nothing was helping me notice him. As soon as he was away from Buffy and BUFFY - that quickly changed. Not only was Boreanaz a much better actor in ANGEL, but Angel was also a much better character - in no small part thanks to Cordelia - who was also very much a background character to me in BUFFY too until she moved to ‘AtS’ and she became actually likeable.

I guess what I’m saying is CHARACTER REPRESENTATION and CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT is very fucking important to me. It 100% decides where my support for a character goes.

What I would say to any character I’m not particularly interested in or don’t particularly like is this:

Ambivalence begins the process of me saying 👎 to 👍. As soon as my feelings waver, you’ve got me pulled into a condition of me possibly liking and paying attention and even supporting you. Fail to do that with me and you will remain as dull as wallpaper. That is, I may look at you every now and again - likely because you’re in the general peripheral of what I’m actually focusing on - but I won’t ever really see you. To this I would say - get in my field of vision and make me notice you. Achieve making me unable to look away from you. Show me once that you��re worth my sight and engagement and you likely always will be.

I can tell you a character from the Buffyverse who I actually really didn’t like at all to begin with did this. He got in the way enough that it was going to happen. Most of the fandom hate Xander’s guts or at least find him boring. But for all the muck that gets thrown at him for being a Whedon self-insert character (as if all characters aren’t in some capacity), he became worth my attention when he refused to be just left behind despite being the only non-supernatural and male main core character to stay all the way to endgame.

You would think that’s worth something wouldn’t you?

Perhaps it was because his love and support for the one character I never take my eyes off of never ended. Perhaps in the end that’s what really does it for me. When a character is always there for another character even when they believe they’re absolutely useless and everything they do or say just makes things worse and a whole ass fucking fandom agrees with them on it.

Good thing I don’t give a shit about majority vote. Good thing I don’t let someone else’s perception define and dictate who I am. Good thing I’m real.

Good thing I can now say I love Xander and mean it.

#buffy the vampire slayer #angel the series #angel #david boreanaz #xander harris #nicholas brendon #characterization #character representation #character development

[elvendara]

AU-gust day 1

1 Aug ’23 Sightless

“And if I refuse?” Saeran screamed at his father.

“You won’t, now stop being so beligerant and contrary. Do as you’re told!” his father turned and walked away, leaving Saeran seething, standing with his fists clenched at his sides. Shut up and obey, as usual. He could run away, but what would be the point? His father would only send his men to find him.

“Come on, let’s get some of that aggression out in the training yard.” His twin, Saeyoung, said as he placed his hand on his shoulder and gently turned him. Saeran’s shoulders sagged and followed his brother.

They fought. Saeyoung with a longsword and Saeran with his psi’s. They went all out, many of their scars were from each other. Many more were from their father. Even though they were trained from as early as they could hold a weapon, their father had yet to allow them to join a single battle. It was humiliating. But that was the point wasn’t it? His father was in charge, always.

The twins were beloved by the people and it irritated their father. His paranoia kept him from letting his sons earn any notoriety in battle. As Saeran stabbed at his brother he seethed inside. It wasn’t as if he didn’t know he would eventually have to marry for political reasons, but he had assumed he would have more time. Saeyoung, as the oldest, should have married first, but his esteemed father hadn’t wanted to waste his heir on such a small almost insignificant kingdom.

He growled and charged at his brother, Saeyoung easily parrying the reckless attack.

“Don’t let your emotions get in the way.” His brother said. “Calm yourself.”

“I don’t want to ‘calm’ myself.” Saeran gritted through his teeth and jumped forward, psi’s flashing in his hands. They clanged against the sword and Saeyoung deflected them to the side and down. Saeran growled again as he turned on his heel and sprang wildly towards his target.

Saeyoung sighed and instead of engaging, dropped to the ground and swept his right leg out, catching his ankle on Saeran’s achilles and bringing him down hard. With the wind knocked out of him Saeran coughed and clutched at his chest.

“Fuck!” he screamed into the air and smashed his psi’s into the ground. Saeyoung sighed and lay next to his brother.

After a minute, when Saeran’s breathing finally calmed Saeyoung said, “It could be worse. At least father has agreed to marry you off to a prince instead of a princess.”

“Hah! As if he cared about me at all. He saw an opportunity few would have been able to seize.”

“True. I hear King Yu dotes on his children and shows fatherly respect and love.” There was a wistfulness in the older brother’s voice, as they had never felt those things from their own father. “And Yoosung has the reputation of being a kind boy. Things could be worse.”

“Kind.” Saeran rolled his eyes. “That simply means he’s soft and brainless. Not a very challenging spouse.”

“I also hear he’s very attractive.” Saeyoung grinned at his brother. “You do like blondes.”

“I hate you.” Came the deadpan response.

“All I’m saying is, try to look on the bright side. Don’t let father win. It’s possible that the prince will make you happy. Just don’t dismiss him before you know him.”

“Except that I won’t ‘know him’ until after we’re wed.”

Saeyoung lay back down silently agreeing.

…wedding day…

Saeran stood in front of the door, heart racing, hands clammy. Even today he had not been allowed to see his betrothed. He adjusted his golden robe, the starchiness grating around his neck. His amber eyes shift sideways as he hears the commotion of his groom’s procession nearing. Taking a deep breath he concentrates on the crown atop his red hair, feeling the heaviness of it as never before.

Peripherally he catches a glimpse of blond and gold, the vestments appearing white with amethyst embroidery. He shifts his focus back to the closed doors in front of him as the other man turns to stand next to him. They are of similar height though Saeran believes he might be an inch or so taller.

As per custom they clasped hands, Saeran grateful he had wiped his palms beforehand. He could feel the other man trembling and hesitant. He couldn’t blame him, he was feeling hesitant himself. The hand felt almost delicate, not a single callus marring it. He suddenly felt self-conscious about his own callus ridden palms, rough and bumpy.

Music suddenly filled the room and the man next to him stiffened as the doors before them opened into the chapel filled with nobles. The décor was minimal, white flowers interspersed with lavender and greenery. Expensive amethyst silks were draped around the room. The purple must have been for Yoosung’s family, to match his wedding garments. The rug beneath his feet was the amber of their family crest.

He kept his eyes on the bishop ahead, his vision blurring, ears rushing with whooshing blood as his heart beat faster and faster. Once in front of the ornately adorned bishop they stopped, the music also coming to an end as the holy man intoned the words that bound them together. Saeran answered the questions as he was instructed, Yoosung doing the same. The voice was low and soft, also hesitant. As the ceremony neared the end, their outstretched hands being bound by another silk amethyst cloth with an amber ribbon, Saeran’s senses become crisper realizing that he will soon get his first glimpse of his new groom.

The Bishop steps back and the grooms turn towards each other. His heart skips a bit and his mouth empties of saliva leaving a dry dessert in its wake. He locks eyes with a stunning set of amethyst orbs, wide and pensive. His nose was short and sharp, delicate lips beneath it, as if cupid himself shaped them. The silver ornate crown outshined by the silky yellow hair it sat on.

“You may now kiss the groom.” The Bishop said, clasping his hands.

Saeran blinked and swallowed with great difficulty. The room was silent, as Yoosung stared at him, lips trembling slightly. From behind him his brother cleared his throat loudly, releasing Saeran from his paralysis. He leaned in, hands still intertwined, brushing his lips against the blond’s, feeling guilty for imposing himself on the other man. The room erupts in clapping as he pulls away. Yoosung lowers his head and stares at the floor as they turn towards the room, on full display as a newly married couple.

#au gust #au gust 2023 #Mysme #mystic messenger #Yooran #Yoosung Kim #Saeran Choi #Saeyoung Choi #Day 1 #Sightless #I took a little leeway on the prompt

[two-white-butterflies]

high infidelity chapter seventeen - stepstones

Pairing : Daemon Targaryen x Saera Targaryen x Ser Harwin Strong

Description: "There's many different ways that you can kill the one you love. The slowest way is never loving them enough." 

Saera Targaryen was drawn to Daemon like a moth to a flame, after following him to Flea Bottom - she finds out that he feels the same way. He leaves for war with the Stepstones, and in his absence she is engaged to Ser Harwin Strong.

masterlist

<<previous chapter

Three Months Later

THE BATTLE IN STEPSTONES PROVED TO BE ONE WORTHY OF SONGS. Daemon fought alongside the Velaryons armed with nothing but his wits and his beloved, Dark Sister. He couldn't understand why his brother refused to send more troops nor could he understand why no one was writing to him — not even his spy, Mysaria. He takes a swig of his ale, mumbling something along the lines of marriage and death. 

Laenor sits beside him, holding his helmet in his left hand. Daemon's fire radiated off everyone, but it wasn't enough to boost morale. "We should end this war," Laenor stated already hating the taste of bitter water. "I'll take Seasmoke and burn the Crabfeeder." he added and the Prince beside him hums, the reason Daemon hasn't burned them yet is because his dragon can be seen miles away. Seasmoke however was the same color as the skies. "I look forward to going home," Daemon stretched his limbs, yawning silently and laying his head on the marble pillar. 

"Any news from the capital?" Daemon inquires and the young knight nodded. The Capital was the nest of intrigue, so many things has been done since they left. "Princess Saera has been engaged, according to Laena." he responded as if it was a normal Tuesday afternoon, failing to realize that Daemon's features darkened with every passing second. 

He takes another swig of his ale emptying the entire cup. "To who?" he interrogates, his hands almost crushing the object in his palms. Laenor's eyebrows furrowed trying to remember the name of the lord, "Harwin Strong, I think. His father was the one who proposed it," he answers and Daemon's stomach churned

'Those assholes.'

He had fallen inside a trap. "Harwin Strong." he repeated, the name of the man sounding like a curse on his lips. Laenor looks in shock as the man stands up, as if the alcohol had no effect on him. Daemon reaches for the dark sister, tying it in his pants and removing his armor. 

The war was going to end. Now. 

"Where are you going?" Laenor inquires, watching as his idol walks towards the council of men. His boots clinking on the muddied ground and his body radiating an aura of death. Daemon was. vengeful — easy to anger and slow to forgive. He was fire in body — and in heart. 

He halts and points his finger on the map, he knew the entire island like the back of his own hand. "I will take my boat and make the Crabfeeder leave his nest. Once he shows his face, Ser Laenor —" he turns towards the man and points at the cave where their enemy lays claim to. "Burn all of their troops — and we'll add their swords to my brother's throne." he finishes darkly and the entire group erupts into whispers. 

Daemon didn't listen to them. 

He takes a mammoth stride and sits atop his boat. A one man army, razing the caves of his blood enemy. But no — the enemy wasn't the one he was about to fight. The enemy was his own brother. 

Daemon rowed his boat in a steady rhythm, though the fire in his veins was still unextinguished. Tonight, the Triarchy would know no gods — none other than Daemon Targaryen and the inferno he was about to bring. He rebuked the seas, he would rather fly in his dragon. But the seas he was rowing in, would bring him to his victory. He could hear Caraxes cry from the far away island. Daemon was like an island — isolated from his family, but still loving them. 

He could see the muddied ground and the yellow sand from the corner of his peripheral vision. 

Death. The only thing in his mind. 

"By the end of tonight, even the Stranger will know me by name." he whispers while his boat touches the small island. He takes the Dark Sister — almost wobbling from drunkenness. There was no one there to great him, but he could still feel the glares on his skin. 

"I've come to surrender," he screams falsely, waiting for a few seconds and turning around to scan his surroundings. For a second he believed that they wouldn't come out, but to his surprise the Crabfeeder himself comes out and starts walking towards him.

Daemon smirks in satisfaction before kneeling and holding his sword with both of his hands, laying it thin and pretending that he was truly surrendering. He lowers his head, not wanting to stare at Greyscaled filled asshole. He could feel the man's unearthly presence about to reach his darling sword. Then suddenly, just like a swift frog — the Prince leaps out and takes the sword from his hand, slicing the man in half. 

It was supposed to go: blue, red, black. But Daemon could only see red. 

The man was dead. He knew that. It wasn't enough. It was never enough. 

His hand grasp his sword and he begins hitting the enemy's corpse with the dark sister, smiling in satisfaction as his body gets chopped into a million pieces. This was the dragon they needed to be scared of. The madness the Maesters warned the folk about. 

Daemon always got what he wanted. 

Saera wasn't going to be an exception. 

next chapter>>

[gemslittlelibrary]

You Really Don't Need to Read "The Ink Black Heart"

Hi Joanne,

You’ll never read this, of course. I wouldn’t send this to you, nor would I send any author a review of their work. Since you seem to have a habit of looking for yourself online (including in spaces for the disabled, perhaps?) I suppose there’s a small chance, so I’ll warn you now: This is not a positive review. Nor is it an attack, but, since it contains criticism, I’m sure you’d take it that way regardless.

Happy reading.

Where to begin? The Ink Black Heart by “Robert Gailbraith” (the irony of the author using a pseudonym for this book, which despises those who use different names online, is not lost on me) is a ridiculously long brick that is less of a mystery and more of the author’s attempts to paint herself as a victim. 

In the Kindle edition, at a whopping 1462 pages long, the main mystery isn’t actually introduced until page 50. The previous pages consist of the drawn out “will they/won’t they” romance between the two detectives, something that has been an annoying side story for the past four books as well, and is continued throughout this novel in torturous passages of two people assuming the other’s thoughts, never being honest, and pretending everything is absolutely fine. 

If that doesn’t sound like a decent subplot, there’s no need to worry. Besides the case for which the book is named, readers are given no less than four other cases taken on by the agency, with two more romantic side plots. After all, why be succinct when you can devote hundreds of pages to the prolonged child abuse of two young girls–something that the detective is more than happy to let slide until it’s been filmed– instead?

I’m afraid I’ve gotten a bit ahead of myself. If you haven’t read any other books in the Cormoran Strike series, you’re probably quite confused, so let me give you a quick overview: Our titular character, Cormoran Strike, is a disabled war veteran, illegitimate son of a rock star, and irresistible to women (something I will be discussing later on). He initially hires Robin Ellacot as his secretary, but after learning how useful she can be, he eventually promotes her to fellow detective, and later to business partner. Robin, initially engaged to be married, quickly finds her feelings for Strike and the job to be an issue between herself and her partner, culminating in a short-lived marriage that quickly ends in divorce. 

So, now that our heroes have been introduced, we can move onto this installment of the series. To sum up all of the superfluous content: Stark tries to kiss Robin, she backs away, he starts messing with another woman to make her jealous (a common theme), and they both stew with their sexual tension. The agency, which has grown from the two of them, is booked solid with cases (a son stealing expensive things from his father, a mother whose daughter is being groomed by her ex, cheating husbands, and so on), so when the “scruffy” Edie Ledwell arrives at the office, Robin is forced to turn her away, though not before listening to her story. Edie is the co-creator of a popular web cartoon, and has been on the receiving end of vicious online harassment. When she’s found stabbed to death in the graveyard where the story is set, along with her injured co-creator, Robin and Strike are on the case. 

As with previous Strike books, Rowling’s main tactic of creating a tricky mystery is to simply throw so many characters and side plots at the reader until they’re completely befuddled, unable to have a coherent thought and therefore unable to solve the case. This book is perhaps the best example of that, with suspects using various internet handles along with their real names. If there were fewer suspects, connecting the handles to their legal names might have been fun to figure out, but with throwaway accounts, a huge fandom, the cast of the show, and more peripheral figures to suspect, it’s a bit much. Pro tip: If one (or several) of your big reveals are characters that haven’t been introduced to the reader, you’ve failed at writing a good mystery. 

 It quickly becomes apparent that this entire mass of bound pages is simply a self-insert fanfic. The implication being that, if/when she leaves the internet for good (I highly doubt she believes someone would murder her), everyone will regret their treatment of one Joanne K. Rowling. 

Edie’s cartoon, which is also titled The Ink Black Heart, has apparently been the target of criticism by some fans, with accusations of racism, transphobia, and ableism. Infuriatingly, readers don’t learn enough about the cartoon to see what exactly is being criticized in the book’s universe. There are a few throwaway examples, mostly accusations by a blog called The Pen of Justice, but since its author is simply pretending to be progressive while simultaneously using the platform to find underage girls to groom, it’s safe to say that these accusations are more or less meant to be baseless. This is further confirmed when it’s revealed that Edie was the target of a Neo-Nazi group that specialized in spreading misinformation about prominent left-leaning women with the hopes of driving them to suicide. Interestingly, Rowling shows her hand here, with one of the targets being called Maya Sattherwaite. Her crime? Misgendering a trans woman in a private text message. Readers familiar with Rowling’s antics on Twitter may recognize that this is a poorly-disguised nod to Maya Forstater, someone who, according to CNN, “brought a claim against the Center for Global Development and CGD Europe, an international development think tank, after she lost her job as a researcher following comments on Twitter criticizing UK government plans to allow people to self-identify their gender.” Rowling subsequently defended her on Twitter. I can’t prove that the character is in any way connected to Forstater, but it’s an interesting point nonetheless. 

So, to recap: Neo-Nazi trolls manipulate vulnerable fans into hating the creator of something they loved. A different person, apparently indifferent to this, ends up murdering Edie because he’s an incel. Another huge coincidence, but, ok, sure, there are lots of hateful people in the world. Besides the main plot, which genuinely seems like a very, very long-winded attempt to convince readers that any criticism directed towards Rowling herself is simply hate and trolling, due to her position as a prominent female left-leaning writer, there are other things, hidden throughout this monstrosity, that are extremely hurtful.

When the book was released, a few particular quotes started circulating the internet. The one I saw the most was a description of a suspect’s tumblr blog, through the eyes of Strike, who, in case you’ve forgotten, is a disabled man. The passage reads: “At the top was a picture of many silver spoons and the legend: Disabled artist - fashion, music, and bird lover - life right now is mostly about being sick. CF- fibromyalgia - POTs - allodynia - I need more spoons…”(Rowling, p. 419). For those unaware, the Spoon Theory is an analogy for fluctuating energy levels, commonly used in disabled online communities. The abbreviated conditions are Chronic Fatigue Syndrome (also known as myalgic encephalitis/ME) and Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome. All four conditions are invisible illnesses, meaning that they may not be visible upon first glance. A few more examples of posts are given, all of which are dramatic or about disabilities, such as how life is for more than working, or that using a mobility aid if needed is fine, even if that’s despite medical advice. Stark, our disabled hero, finds her blog to be “unattractively mawkish,” (Rowling, p.421) detests using a cane, and usually puts himself into far more risky situations to avoid being perceived as disabled. Although this isn’t totally portrayed as the correct thing to do, as his stump (as he calls it) eventually starts exhibiting symptoms of nerve damage due to lack of care, but it isn’t entirely shown as a negative thing either. This trait of his is constant throughout the series, usually including at least one moment where his “weakness” is exposed to the public in a humiliating fashion. I understand preferring to complete tasks unaided to avoid pity. I struggle with it, and I’m sure other disabled people do too. As the novel progresses, though, it’s clear Stark and Robin (and, I presume, the author), rank disabilities differently, as well as the people who have them. 

Several of our murder suspects are disabled characters. Now, I don’t mind a disabled villain, as long as the disability isn’t the cause and sole reason for the villainous behavior. And, to be fair, the murderer does not have a disability (he does, however, have a serious skin condition requiring regular hospital visit, which I’ll return to later). The issue here isn’t that readers are meant to suspect disabled characters along with their able-bodied counterparts. The issue comes from the fact that nearly every disabled character is written to be extremely manipulative and unlikeable. 

The disabled characters can be divided neatly into two groups, which I’ll be referring to as “good” and “bad.” The “good” disabled characters are Strike himself, Josh Blay, and Dr. Vikas Bhardwaj. Strike, as I mentioned, lost part of his leg saving the life of a fellow military man abroad. Josh Blay is the co-creator of The Ink Black Heart and is attacked alongside Edie. Although he survives, he’s paralyzed on one side of his body and left without feeling in the other. Interestingly, Strike dislikes Josh (a stoner artist) until meeting the now disabled man, with whom he forms a camaraderie of the unfairly attacked. Dr. Bhardwaj, though not injured, had speech and motor issues due to cerebral palsy. He’s also a child genius and a doctor of astrophysics. In his obituary, his family has “spoken of their immense and lasting pride in the genius who’d never let his disability stand in his way,”(Rowling, p.1232). “Never letting his disability stand in his way” is a classic line in inspiration porn. Inspiration porn is when the story of a disabled person who is painted as a hero for simply existing, or a success story like Dr. Bhardwaj’s or Strike’s. The model disabled person, it is implied, should not complain or admit that their disability has prevented them from doing anything. 

This point is glaringly obvious when we look at the “bad” disabled characters. The owner of the tumblr referenced above is Kea Niven, a very pretty young disabled woman. When Strike goes to interview her, her mother cancels, saying Kea’s too ill to see anyone, and that she’s bedbound. Already having decided that Kea is a liar, he goes anyway, and readers are treated to scenes of Kea screaming at her mother and running from the house, before agreeing to meet with Strike, where she uses various symptoms as excuses to end the interview. It’s later revealed that she uses these symptoms to manipulate another “bad” disabled man, as well as weaponizing self-harm against her ex, who happens to be Josh. Knowing that her particular diagnoses often affect young women who are usually disbelieved, this was particularly difficult for me to read. I expected Strike to force her to run laps or something, gloating as he exposed a “faker” (a hobby that runs rampant on the internet).

The next “bad” disabled character is the aforementioned man, Inigo Upcott. Also diagnosed with ME, he uses a wheelchair and cane at different times. He’s also portrayed as an abusive, domineering, self-pitying tyrant. Our first introduction to him is at his home, where his daughter is home sick from school. As he condescends and terrifies his wife in front of the detectives, the girl comes into the room. This is his reaction: “‘Get BACK!’ roared Inigo with sudden ferocity, as though Flavia were a wild animal. ‘You are INFECTIOUS!’

Flavia stopped dead. ‘If you wish me to be bedbound for the next six weeks, by all means keep allowing her into

this fucking room!’”(Rowling, p.493). 

In further conversations, we learn that Inigo had a promising career prior to his diagnosis, about which he is still, understandably bitter. At one point, while listening to his explanation, Strike contemplates how so many other people deserve pity more than this man. So, once again, the message is clear: You can be disabled, but it must be real and valid to me, a stranger. You mustn't complain or show signs of bitterness unless alone, and even then, do you really need that medication/mobility/accommodation? Why can’t you overcome it? 

Even ignoring all of that, and the derision around the word “ableism”, our “heroes” are, quite frankly, rude, insufferable people. Stark has romantic relationships with women he quickly becomes annoyed with when they dare to ask for affection or that he, perhaps, not have so many outings with his beautiful blonde partner. He constantly thinks about the chest size of each woman we meet, and also decides if they’re pretty or ugly. It could be argued that Strike is simply an asshole, but our heroine describes people in the same way. Most women are described as plain, or drab, or overweight. If they’ve had plastic surgery, it will constantly be mentioned as a point to laugh about. Robin’s own “trim” figure, ample chest, and lack of plastic surgery is mentioned frequently as well. Both detectives constantly have members of the opposite sex waiting in line to, as the author would say, “bed” them. Robin, of course, has only been with one man, and Strike is actually quite aggravated when he hears her on a date with a suspect. She leads the suspect on, flirting and making out with him (which…I’m not sure is legal and is certainly morally questionable, but sure), recording all the while. Stark and Robin are equally possessive of one another, possibly codependent, with barely suppressed anger over the other being simply looked at by a potential partner. 

There are other, subtler bits of hatred that stood out to me. The fans of this cartoon are consistently characterized as losers with no social life or proper job, having nothing better to do than attack innocents online. The female fans in particular have all been so pathetically alone that they’re easily manipulated by their male counterparts, doing their bidding, believing them, giving them alibis, and so on. Most receive no sympathy from the detectives, barring a minor and a young adult who had been groomed. Everyone else with even the slightest interest in the cartoon and its fandom, including the ex-girlfriend of a contractor at the agency, are chronically online dullards.

The grooming victim, though appropriately seen as innocent in the whole mess, is possibly dyslexic and anorexic. The former can be assumed from her online interactions(this book contains many, many chat room threads and tweets, which is a logistical nightmare), and descriptions of her appearance. Well, the detectives assume she’s anorexic, while describing her as child-like with the face of Death or a skull. The physical description is repeated despite Robin forming a relationship with the woman, so it isn’t a one-off identifying characteristic (not that that would excuse the language used).

One of the bits that disturbed me the most was a throwaway line by a minor character. Ilsa, Stark’s childhood friend and new friend of Robin’s, has met Robin for dinner. She’s been stressed about her latest case as a defense lawyer, which is so unbelievable I’ll simply cite the whole thing: “...she told Robin about the teenage girl who’d stood trial for helping plan a terrorist attack. ‘...so the other four were found guilty,’...’and so they bloody well should have been, but I thought, she’s finished. I could hear her mother sobbing behind us. But thank Christ the judge believed the psychologist. Fifteen, profoundly autistic and convinced she’d found real friends online…of course she fell for it. And she was the one they were going to strap the blood explosives to,’”(Rowling, p.400). This is literally never mentioned again. Another character mentions going to babysit his autistic nieces. There are mentions of characters helping with an art class for “special needs kids'', but besides one of the adults being a pedophile, working with the class is seen as a wonderful, selfless thing to do. These are both used as points towards a character’s morality, but Ilsa, who isn’t a suspect and is barely in the story at all, has no reason to chat about such a case. If Rowling wanted to simply use this chat as a way to indicate Ilsa’s stress, there are plenty of more common legal issues to use. The anecdote could be an attempt at foreshadowing, but the Neo-Nazi group isn’t mentioned in connection with that incident, and doesn’t use a specifc autistic character to further their goals. 

My personal theory is that JK Rowling sees herself as a protector of autistic girls and women. In her weird transphobic blog post, she states that she believes a lot of trans men are simply autistic girls who have been manipulated by the world to think they’re boys. Oddly specific, but based on the overall petty tone of the novel, it wouldn’t surprise me. (There’s also a throwaway line where, when confirming a suspect’s gender, Robin states that they are female, because they’re on their period, and Strike answers that that definitely confirms it. Rowling famously tweeted a snarky response to an article about bring period products to everyone, which had used the phrase “people with periods”, and Rowling, afraid her precious womanhood was being erased, essentially mocked the phrase, saying she was SURE there was another, better word for those people.

Anyway, the novel ends with the teenaged incel, who purposely exacerbated his skin condition for pity, going on a hate-fueled rampage with a machete, murdering his father, Inigo, wounding his mother, stabbing Strike and attempting to sexually assault Robin as he spouted incel rhetoric. The rampage, though triggered by Robin connecting him to his various online aliases, also connected to his long-buried hatred of his disabled father. 

 As usual, the climax of the book occured ridiculously quickly, shoved into a few chapters of this over 1000-page book. Rowling seems to enjoy planting so many false leads that by the time it’s time to confront the real criminal, it reads like a hastily penned afterthought. After the rushed fight scene, we get an epilogue of the two lovebirds angrily pining for one another, as Robin has accepted a date, and the book ends with Strike cursing himself for not revealing his true feelings. Their romantic troubles will, I’m sure, be solved in another three, or perhaps four novels. 

I’d like to note here that I did go into this book with an open mind. I’d enjoyed some of the previous Strike novels, and Rowling still has a fantastic talent for describing scenery. The various fancy places Strike and Robin visit on their adventures are the best part of the series, hands down. I also wanted to read the whole thing myself before commenting on the ableism. To me, a few screenshots could have easily been taken out of context, and I suppose I had some small hope that the book was not quite as hideous as it seemed. Unfortunately for me, it was worse.

Don’t read this book. Don’t pay $15 for an ebook, or even more for a physical copy. It’s not worth a hate read, or a curiosity read, or anything of the sort. It feels clichéd to say “I read this so you don’t have to”, but seriously, I read it in the hopes of diminishing the harm it would cause. I hate to say how much it affected me, because it just makes me fit the SJW spoonie snowflake persona that Rowling created to dismiss criticism and soothe her ego, but I’m certainly not one of her model crips. So, Joanne, if you see this, please know that your book caused me to feel terrible, and that I was shaking terribly today as I read it, due to some part of my conditions you don’t take seriously.

Don’t worry, though. I know you don’t care. 

#spoonie #The Ink Black Heart #Robert Galbraith #tw ableism #tw fatphobia #tw paedophilia #book review #booklr #bookworm #spoilers

[communistkenobi]

I think the first episode of Kenobi fails its own premise. Like the basic stakes are: Obi-Wan is probably the single most valuable target of the Empire. He was a Jedi Master, he was on the Council, he had massive amounts of social and political power within the Order. He is of particular personal importance to Vader. Capturing him could potentially trigger a mass exposure of other Jedi who attempt to rescue him or rally behind him, not to mention the potential of getting information out of Obi-Wan himself. And on top of all of that, capturing Obi-Wan is a final humiliation for the Jedi. He is the capstone of the Imperial project of eliminating the Jedi from the galaxy.

Therefore, him remaining hidden from the Empire has to have equally large weight to it. You need to establish a very strong case for why A) Obi-Wan hasn’t been found yet, and B) why Obi-Wan personally wants to evade capture in the first place, beyond the threat of potentially exposing other Jedi. Obi-Wan does not value his own life at this point, he is actively suicidal and hopelessly miserable. He has lost faith in the Order he served for his entire life, and the Jedi have completely crumbled after centuries upon centuries of power within the galaxy. The ONLY thing keeping him alive is Luke, and the promise that Luke will renew the Jedi (which is a belief that Obi-Wan has imposed onto a child). But the show doesn’t demonstrate this in a way that would feel obsessive or overbearing or pathological. Like, lean into the creepiness of this strange adult man taking a weird amount of interest in child Luke! Have Obi-Wan’s fixation on Luke disrupt his ability to do work. Have Luke be the perpetual reason why Obi-Wan doesn’t help people being cheated or manipulated or brutalised. Exposing himself means failing Luke, and failing Luke means failing the Jedi, which is the highest possible injustice - all other injustice is subservient to that goal. Make him actively apathetic in the face of obvious brutality and cruelty. Make Obi-Wan’s continued existence hinge on this fringe, unfounded, seemingly ridiculous belief that a single child will one day defeat the Empire and restore the Jedi Order to its former glory. Luke is the only potential for Obi-Wan’s lifelong faith to be re-vindicated. Obi-Wan has a personal stake in redeeming himself by training Luke, and an ideological stake in restoring the Order.

But we don’t get that! Owen tells him to leave their family alone, but the extent to which Obi-Wan engages with the Lars family is sneaking around their farm at night and watching Luke from afar. Out of the 56 minutes of the first episode we see a single scene of him watching Luke. And because we, the audience and the writers of this show know, Luke DOES save the galaxy and he DOES restore the Order, so the rationale for Obi-Wan’s fixation on training him is pre-supposed, even though realistically it is ridiculous on its face.

And, again, this obsession should inform Obi-Wan’s apathy in every other sphere of his life. Obi-Wan’s desire to help people is primarily informed by his Jedihood, and the Jedi have failed him ideologically. The examples the show gives of Obi-Wan “not caring” about injustice or otherwise ignoring misfortune are not because he doesn’t care; he actively wants to help people, but feels disempowered to do so. Which isn’t a bad framing, but that disempowerment needs to come from somewhere, and it isn’t the value of his own life. His life is only valuable as a utility and resource to Luke. But Luke’s presence is at best peripheral in the pilot, existing mostly as reference and context (though not justification) for Obi-Wan being on Tatooine.

So the first episode falls flat for me because the various motivations don’t align. The writers want Obi-Wan to be morose and apathetic and downtrodden, but never to a degree that could be uncomfortable or unsympathetic to the audience. They want to establish the totalising violence and cruelty of the Empire, but never in a way that threatens the value set of the people they’re subjugating. The way to eliminate the Jedi isn’t to kill all of them, but to make their beliefs impossible to express in public. Let Obi-Wan watch that kid Jedi be executed in the middle of town. Let him allow his coworkers to be shortchanged by their boss without a second glance in their direction. Let him be compulsively, disturbingly obsessed with a child whose existence Obi-Wan has hinged his own personal redemption on.

#sw.txt #kenobi #kenobi spoilers

[charbend]

System Overflow Chapter 2

Frank sat in his chair, still spinning from his rough landing. He stared helplessly at the screen in front of him, which moved to keep itself a fixed distance in front of his face. He stood up sharply, his chair sliding back into the wall of his cubicle.

The cubicles next to him were empty. He could still feel the warmth from Jason’s hand.

His breathing started becoming panicked. “They’re gone. Okay. Some weird flash of light took my friends. Were we friends? Jason would probably think so, but I don’t know about Sanjay.”

He chuckled nervously. Probably not the thing to be worrying about right now.

Looking past his cubicle group, he tried to spot anyone else who might still be in the office. There weren’t many people on this floor, so a visual inspection was quick. He was alone.

“Is there anybody else here?” he called out.

All he heard back was the air conditioning kicking in.

Okay. Deep breaths. Maybe everyone who’s left will be at the emergency meeting site. Right? He glanced around. This feels like it could be considered an emergency.

He stepped out of his cubicle. The screen followed him, and he eyed it warily. “You told everyone that the teleportation thing was going to happen, right? Any chance you could tell me something helpful, instead? Something that will make me feel a little less like the sky is falling?”

The screen didn’t respond. It maintained the same message:

Unable to finish teleportation operation. Emergency procedures engaged.

Please wait while procedures are confirmed…

Error! Planet [Earth] does not fit any emergency procedure conditions!

Engaging Auto-Sweep to clean loose ends.

“Hmm. No. Well, I guess I should get to my own ‘emergency procedures’ then.”

He tried side-stepping the ominous message, but it remained resolutely in the center of his vision. Frustrated, he swiped his hand at it, and it slid to his peripheral vision, compressing into a neat little notice with an exclamation mark.

“Oh, great. I have a personal heads-up display now. Just what I always wanted…” With his vision now clear and feeling like he had a bit more control over the situation, he set off. 

Okay, first step in meeting at the evacuation site: find a map to the evacuation site.

He heard a crashing boom from outside.

I’m sure that’s fine.

<O/%%%%%/O/%%%%%/O>

It was not fine. He stood on the second floor landing of the stairs, where he had found emergency exit procedures. He’d had a moment to look at them before his attention was drawn out the window beside the map.

Frank worked in an office that its architect might sell as a ‘timeless look for industries of all kinds’, but could charitably be called a brutalist enclosure for humanity. ‘Office’ and ‘Park’ were not words that should be joined together.

This office was considered accessible, which meant that it sat right off the freeway. From the window that Frank stood at, he had a good view of the road.

He was glad he hadn’t gone out for lunch yet.

The entire roadway was a wreckage of steel and wheels, the occupants having either crashed when magic screens showed up in their faces while driving, or disappeared entirely, leaving vehicles to drift aimlessly.

This was the first time he’d seen people since his coworkers had been teleported.

Unfortunately, this was also the first time he’d seen dead people. He turned away, queasy.

This isn’t good.

With a little prompting, he pulled back up the notice.

Error! Teleportation capacity exceeded.

8,126,934,201 / 7,000,000,000

“This is happening everywhere.” He glanced back out the window before looking away. Guess it’s not gonna be climate change that gets us.

He dismissed the notification again, letting it collapse to the side of his vision. He stood back up, and continued down the stairs. The assembly point was downstairs. Hopefully someone would be there.

<O/%%%%%/O/%%%%%/O>

Even after waiting for a while, no one else showed up. He was alone at the office.

Frank sighed. “I never thought I’d find myself wishing remote work was abolished.”

He looked around the little courtyard. If it weren’t for the unwelcome notice in the corner of his vision, it would be a lovely day. The sun was out, giving a nice, gentle warmth as he sat on a bench in the middle of the nice, manicured lawn. There wasn’t even a single plane in the sky to break the calm of the day.

Suddenly, a new screen popped into view.

Auto-Sweep process engaging.

Errors to resolve:

[Users] on world

Unusual energy signatures on world

Unknown Skills detected

His stomach sank. “What now?”

Resolving: Unknown Skills detected

Categorizing Skills...

Integrating Skills...

Unknown Skills no longer detected

Resolving: Unusual energy signatures on world

Analyzing energy signatures…

Integrating energy signatures…

New Skills created!

Resolving: [Users] on world

Error! [Users] on world that has been evacuated.

Recategorizing [Users]...

Another pop-up appeared in Frank’s view. This one appeared to be a status sheet, though it was filled with all manner of data that he couldn’t parse at a glance. What did draw his attention, however, were a few lines at the top:

Frank Vila

Human [User]

As he looked, it changed to:

Frank Vila

Human [Native]

Then it disappeared.

Resolving: [Users] on world

Error! [Users] on world that has been evacuated.

Recategorizing [Users]...

[Users] recategorized!

[Users] no longer on world.

All errors resolved!

Beginning terraforming…

The blue screen stopped updating, and a green screen appeared. Frank ignored it, compressing it to the side of his view immediately. He laid down and looked at the sky. “I was not ready for today.”

The clouds scudded by as he lay there, letting himself have a moment to just be, without worry.

Distantly, another explosion sounded.

“Yeah, okay, so much for that. Let’s take a look at the information I have, shall we?”

He flipped open the blue screen, the log of messages he’d received still present.

“Whatever this is, it looks like it was trying to teleport everyone on Earth. Obviously, it failed. That means there are definitely still others out there. At least…” He squinted at the numbers. “One billion and some change. That feels like a lot, at least.”

He scrolled up further. “I guess the 7 billion lucky winners are off in the ‘tutorial phase’, whatever that means. Jason and Sanjay are probably there, and…” he was struck by a thought. “My family! They’re caught up in this too.”

He reached for the phone in his pocket, before he remembered that it was still at his desk. I need to check in on them. Right now I have no leads on what is happening to them, or where they are. I’ll need to get my phone, but I’m concerned about this latest message. All the [Users] on the planet, which I assume is everyone, are now considered [Natives]. He tilted his head. “Hmm, feels a bit like a downgrade, but I don’t know where everything fits in. It said it’s some System, right? So, a [User] feels pretty straightforward, but [Native]? I have no idea.”

He glanced at the green notification at the side. Maybe this will give me some clues. He pulled the green notification over, letting the blue screen disappear.

Type changed to [Native]!

[Native] : generally reserved for unintelligent life, [Native] provides System access. This access can expand and change as [Native] is affected by terraforming. For more information, see [Lifeform] type.

The screen vanished shortly after he finished reading it.

“Okay. So, definitely a downgrade,” he said shakily. “Subject to terraforming can’t be good, can it?”

He stood up on wobbly legs, and gave one last look around. No one had shown up yet. It was time to move on. He started heading back to the office. “If I can get in contact with my family, great. If not, maybe I can reach out to someone else. Sanjay seemed to have an idea of what was going on; maybe someone else does as well.”

His stomach growled. Jason had some food stored away, too. Anxiety straddling his shoulders like a child he’d never had, he made his way back to the office, eyes peeled for signs of this ‘terraforming’.

It didn’t take long to find him, as a glowing blue squirrel jumped him on his way in the building.

***

You can find this on Royal Road! (https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/83902)

#litrpg #royalroad #webnovel #writing #progression fantasy

[ingravinoveritas]

Sorry to rant in your direction. I'm feeling a bit savage and overprotective by some of the awful comments I have been seeing on that new BBC interview with David. Saying that he's got far too skinny, looks malnourished and needs to eat a sandwich. Like what the heck is wrong with people that they feel the need to write negative comments about someones weight, makes me so mad. David is naturally very slim and even if he had lost weight why do they feel the need to be dicks about it.

Hi, Anon! No need to apologize at all--you are more than welcome to rant on my blog, as I like to think that it’s a safe place for folks to speak their minds. (I’m on the road at the moment for another speaking engagement, so that’s why I’ve been a bit sidetracked and am trying to catch up on Anons.)

As I’ve mentioned previously, I am not a big watcher of DW, and so have been aware of what has happened recently in more of a general, peripheral sense. From what I am seeing, though, it seems like people are upset at Jodie leaving as 13 or upset at Ncuti not being given a “proper” regeneration as the next Doctor, and instead of aiming those feelings and frustrations where they belong--at Russell T. Davies and the writers/showrunners--they are aiming them at David.

It’s terribly cheap and easy to attack someone’s appearance, too, and it speaks to the fact that these people have nothing else to attack--he’s a beloved Doctor in the DW pantheon, a talented actor, and a lovely, sweet human being, so all that leaves is his looks. But it’s patently ridiculous, because look at him:

So pretty. So gorgeous in that ludicrous shirt, with those delicate features and hands of his. I have had people message me privately with concerns about David’s appearance, but only in the sense of being worried about him looking tired from working so hard and hoping he is eating enough...not calling him ugly and/or attacking his appearance out of some misplaced rage over DW. Sheesh.

As far as I’m concerned, the only acceptable comment about David’s appearance in the BBC interview is this, because it’s hilarious and also the fucking accuracy...

He absolutely looks like he co-owns a hair salon called Unicorn & Daffodil in Palm Springs with Michael, and they are on the verge of adopting a puppy and Michael is fed up because he’s on his third cream rinse of the day and wants to get iced coffees for him and his husband once David is finished with his interview in their tastefully-appointed living room:

So yes, I have no idea why anyone would be possibly a dick about and insult David’s appearance when you could talk about the eyeliner he is wearing or that freaking shirt or his delightful inability to sit straight instead.

It’s so ridiculous to crap on people’s happiness at their fave Doctor returning (in whatever form), and especially to go after David himself. He is friends with Jodie, thoroughly admires Ncuti, and is clearly thrilled to be part of the show again, which he has loved dearly since he was little, so I do not at all see the sense in people trampling over his joy.

Hopefully the haters will go away once this initial wave of DW content subsides and/or by the time the series is released (November of next year, I believe?). But even if they don’t, you are always welcome to rant on my blog again, Anon. Thanks for writing in! x

#anonymous #reply post #david tennant #soft scottish hipster gigolo #doctor who #14th doctor #doctor who 60th anniversary #jodie whittaker #ncuti gatwa #fandom woes #this man is a bi disaster and i love him #and if people want to say he's just doing it for the money #who even cares FFS #get down with your pretty lil bisexual geeky fanboy self David #also now I want a movie where he and Michael own a hair salon in Palm Springs #'unicorn and daffodil' because unicorn is the national animal of Scotland #and daffodil the national flower of Wales #i'm just saying #ineffable lovers #discourse