#i only really got into her when i was doing my conscript (which is why I haven't posted in like two years lmao sorry)
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there's literally gonna be a new taylor swift album im so excited it's been like six years
(if you are one of the gatekeeping weirdos who only counts the albums taylor released during her lifetime as "real ts" this post is not for you, let people be excited, the machine was literally trained not just on her music but on her brainwaves so there is literally no discernible difference)
#i guess the lawsuit finally got resolved for the label???? which means i bet her hologram is going to start doing concerts again too#i only really got into her when i was doing my conscript (which is why I haven't posted in like two years lmao sorry)#and even then I've only really listed to the most recent fifty albums not the old stuff#anyway rip to Matthew Xiuying-Swift for losing the rights to her estate but at least we are getting more music out of it#taylor swift
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Read On Ao3
Part 1
Summary: Violet thought Liam had been an attentive bodyguard. He's got nothing on Andarna.
The people of ao3 requested a part 2, to my surprise!
Here you go!
Edit: Very minor spoilers from book 3. Really just clarification on Andarna’s appearance, mentioned in book two.
Violet thought Tairn would be the menace. And he was at times, there in her head making demands to "better her health" as if he was the healer monitoring her and the baby and not a grumpy dragon who spent his free time torching innocent sheep. "I eat the sheep, Silver One. I do not torch them pointlessly like some malicious hatchling."
She rolled her eyes, sending the sentiment back at him as she curled deeper against Andarna's side, appreciative of the warmth from her inner fire and the massive tail wrapped loosely around her torso. As much as Violet loved the library, she'd been feeling far too cooped up lately without her regular flight time with her dragons. "I like the silver," she murmured, stroking her fingers along the iridescent scales before her. Andarna had grown comfortable in Aretia, no longer feeling the need to hide her chameleon-like gift and so she changed, sometimes once a week, others she'd keep a color for a season. Her other gift had become as entertaining as it was advantageous. It was one of Violet's favorite things to watch new cadets do a double-take when they see a dragon spring out from where ever she decided to camouflage herself to spook them on conscription day.
"I do too," her dragon returned, craning her neck to playfully nudge at Violet's loose hair. "You look pretty with it down like that. Younger, too." Violet hummed, almost drowsy curled up like this. Andarna never lectured her about how she shouldn't nap against dragons, which she appreciated on harder days. "What did the healer say this morning. You had your shields up. You really shouldn't have them up when you're so vulnerable, you know. Tairn and I—"
Violet huffed. Here was the real menace. "Andarna, you two need to make up your minds, because not so long ago I wasn't shielding enough from you guys. You either get silence from my sexy thoughts about my husband and the select information I relay to you or you get everything."
Andarna gave a soft growl. "You're my chosen rider. Our rider. We get to be protective if we want to and you don't get to complain. So what did the healer say?"
She sighed. "They couldn't tell us anything, Andarna. Nothing concrete. There's nothing in my family tree to explain why I am like I am. They said the baby is healthy, but I'm only two months along. A lot can change in a little time. I'm..."
Andarna made a soft sound. "It's okay to say you're scared. It's normal. Even dragons fear for their young."
Violet chuckled. "Oh, well, as long as it isn't just us puny humans."
She paused, realizing the female wrapped around her had tensed, raising her head from the frosted grass. A shimmering wing snapped down over her seconds before she heard a pair of riders land. "Hello, Andarna," she heard Bodhi say. "Can we join you?" The wing snapped back again, revealing a very amused Bodhi and Xaden, the latter of whom was already bending down to kiss her. "Enough of that, you two. Save it for the bedroom."
They both ignored him, naturally, Xaden turning his attention back to the dragon coiled around her. "May I have a turn cuddling my wife, Andarna?"
She gave him a smokey snort and he raised his hands in surrender. Enough said. "Tell him it's far too cold out here for a human to keep you warm."
"And hand him a sex joke on a silver platter? I think not." She gave Xaden a sympathetic frown. "Clingy and protective is quite the mix, you understand." Her dragon wasn't budging. "Andarna, if you wanted to fly some today, I bet you could—"
"No, Violet."
"Yeah, she's not moving until I decide to go inside."
"And when did you plan on coming in, love?" Xaden asked, brushing his thumb over her cheekbone, pink from the biting wind. "It's been nearly three hours. Dinner is almost ready."
"Don't talk to me about food," she groaned. To say the morning sickness had kicked in would be an understatement.
"Go inside and eat," Tairn growled.
"Well hello to you, too. Enjoy your solitude?"
"I do not know solitude, listening to you two all day. Soon she will be past her Adolesence. It will be a mercy on us all. "
"We'll find something light to eat for you," Xaden promised, oblivious to the woes of the bossy beast in her head. "Come with me."
With a heavy sigh, she patted Andarna's tail, slowly disentangling herself and braving the chilled air again. "See you guys later," Bodhi said, smoothly mounting Cuir.
Violet sighed, watching them launch into the sky. "I miss that already."
He kissed her forehead. "I know. I'm sorry." He nodded to Sgaeyl and she and Andarna flew for the hatching grounds.
"What if it was just low altitude flight without any big maneuvers?" she asked Tairn cautiously.
"No, Silver One. Enough. You are hardly the first rider to struggle to adjust, but you may just be the most stubborn." There was a lengthy pause between them as she and Xaden started inside, hand in hand. "I miss it too. You'll be back in the skies soon, Violet."
#fourth wing#dragons know best#pregnancy fic#riorgail#xiolet#xaden riorson#violet sorrengail#andarna#tairn
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27, 29 and 30 for both your Rooks!
Oh man you have given me a great set of questions to simply Never Shut Up about so prep for some paragraphs
27: What was their life like before the events of Veilguard?
Shayne Mercar was a slave in Ventus, and spent a lot of her childhood getting trained in like Classical Magical Technique and higher level magic theory so she could be the Best Magical Weapon Ever. She really only had her sister Camilia who escaped out to the east (and became my Ingelvar!) When she was 7, and Shayne escaped out west and changed her name from Servilia to Shayne when she was like 15. I like to pretend Dorian scooped her up and helped her to Minrathous on his way back from Skyhold and helped the SD's find her a family (the Mercars) and a cover story (the backstory a Mercar very quickly and over complicatedly explains to Tarquin) Then she busted heads for the Shadow Dragons until Veilguard :)
Lucille de Riva is a Real Genuine De Riva. Her mom was some Orlesian courtier who rolled up to Antiva when Lucy was like? 3ish? And said "hey I don't want this its your problem now" and the king was like "ugh I don't want to pay for another Bastard In Exile and she can't exactly make a choice so. Actually it's Viago's problem now! Off to the Crows!" So Viago raised her for awhile (he was Bad At It godbless) until she started Crow training and she doesn't really. Remember that much from before training. So Viago has decided she's safer thinking she's an Honorary de Riva and she was holding a grudge cause he wouldn't train her but it's just cause he's a softie :)
29: If you could choose a different faction for your Rook, which one would they have joined and why?
Shayne's is interesting because. My first instinct is Mourn Watch. Cause I got really into Nevarra while reading Tevinter Nights and thought about tweaking her backstory so she escaped out there, but I ended up making her a sister to do that since I was so attached to Shayne's og backstory. She probably almost got sold off to the Crows a few times since we know magisters will dump talented but worthless to them slaves on the Crows for Lots Of Money, so I guess the Crows because she's talented but almost completely unmanageable. Made the altus' life as difficult as possible.
Lucille......... Lucy what would u be up to........... maybe the Lords of Fortune? Shes an adrenaline junkie so that might have been her thing if her mom didn't dump her in Antiva. I could also see her getting a little too cocky and ending up getting Blighted and Viago goes "absolutely not you are getting Warden-ed no dying on me" and she conscripts and has to get it together a little. Yeah I think definitely the Warden one she would HATE it but it would be narratively fulfilling.
30: What's your favorite thing about your Rook?
Shayne is an extremely talented and classically well educated mage. She simply chooses to use unrefined raw magic with an orb and dagger stance for fun. She defaults to physical violence and must be coerced into using the fancy shit. If She Went To Hogwarts She Would Use Physical Violence. Also after Dorian helped her get to Minrathous and they got found family-ed their favorite gag is Dorian bringing Shayne important places (both as a magister and the archon) and introducing this scrappy elf woman as his niece. They never offer any explanation the other important people's reaction is too funny.
Lucy is VERY much Viago's sister. They have the same dry humor and judgemental tsk tsk attitude and some crazy emotional constipation. Teia makes fun of them cause when they stand next to each other they have the same stance. The main difference is that Lucille loves causing problems on purpose. Sets fires just cause it'll piss Viago off etc. It's incredibly fortuitous that the demon sharing her boyfriend's body is Spite they get along so well. That's her boyfriend AND her best friend.
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What do you think about the differences between allying/conscripting the mages vs. allying/disbanding the templars in Inquisition?
Also, what are your thoughts on the writing of In Hushed Whispers vs. the writing of Champions of the Just?
I don't understand the first question. What differences? There were no differences.
Champions is, unfortunately, the superior quest, in that it is actually a Dragon Age quest, and Whispers is like, "there's time travel now?" That's what we were all saying in 2014, we were like "since when is there time travel? there's fucking time travel now? why is there time travel, suddenly?"
They're both clearly trying to get funky and weird with it, which I respect, but Champions does it by playing around with fun aspects of the setting like demonic possession and weird fade sequences and Whispers is like "you go to the future (!!!??) and then it doesn't matter."
(Champions didn't matter either which is unfortunate because it was maybe the only part of the base game that bothered to play around with its own themes, and might have unintentionally made some promises re: examining abuses of power that the game wasn't prepared to keep, but w/e. It was like a glimpse into a version of the game that cared about the ramifications of its own conceit (they just handed you an army of religious fanatics (!!?) and now you're meddling in international politics (!!!??)), however hamfistedly.)
Anyway, Whispers was a bit like "now that we have this knowledge about the future we can act to prevent it!" But like? Didn't matter. Prevented it anyway. Oh well! I'm harsher on Whispers than Champions bc if you're going to introduce time travel out of absolutely nowhere then it should matter. That's my opinion. If Champions just wants to fuck around with a fade sequence then more power to it.
Also I may be remembering this wrong because it's been over 5 years since I've played Inquisition but didn't Leliana (and/or Josephine? I really don't remember) like.. stab Cullen in Champions? That was fun. That's a big point in its favor. This isn't character hate btw I would say it's fun regardless of who got stabbed. I respect women's stabbing rights. Like when I finally decided to let Florianne stab Celene. That was fun!! I don't know why I didn't let her stab her sooner! Dragon Age is, at its heart, a series of games about stabbing people with knives. I'm not saying "bring back murder knife," but yes I am. I'm saying that. Bring back murder knife.
#although it was very funny that the game clearly expected me to care about cullen's dream stabbing#I met him like two days ago but also I've hated him for years
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For the yellow emoji asks: Kelrath: 🌽 (corn) (esp for the band au?), 🌻 (sunflower), 🔑 (key) Kaethan: 🍋 (lemon) thank you 💜!!
Thank you!
🌽 (corn) - What’s the hardest job your character has worked, if they’ve had a job at all? What made it so hard and what finally made them quit?
Kelrath in Band Au never had an official "real job". He helped his mom out at the diner since he was a child (we're talking 8 or 9 probably), mostly bussing tables or helping her prep ingredients at night or before they opened. Prepping ingredients is probably how he originally learned knife skills and that was probably his favorite thing to do. He still likes the motions and muscle memory of chopping vegetables, deboning chickens etc it takes him out of his own head and it's something that he's good at. Cooking is a skill you can perfect so it's something he still enjoys as an adult when he has the opportunity to do it (which is rare) After his mother died when he was 16-17ish he joined the band Lolth and the Dread Fangs as their new bassist. He didn't mind helping out at the diner because it was things he could do without having to talk to anyone and he could do without much thought. He didn't get paid for any of it though so working with the band was the first time he'd make money that was his to spend. In canon he and his mother were servants and that was something he hated. He hated being told what to do, to be viewed as nothing, to be spoken down to or outright abused. It was a degrading time of his life and a lot of the issues he has surrounding his pride and desire for autonomy stem back to that time. After his mother was killed, he killed everyone in the household and was conscripted into the Dread Fangs which was also awful but in a different way. At least as a Dread Fang though he had some measure of autonomy and privacy and got to do what he was best at (killing)
🌻 (sunflower) - What’s something your character has grown out of? Did it happen gradually or was it a drastic change? What caused this shift?
Oh this is a tough one, hmmm. In some ways Kelrath didn't really have childhood to grow out of. I think in both universes there's a common thread of "loss of innocence" that really reaches its climax when he performs his first kill. As a child and preteen Kelrath is very inside his own head, struggling against warring influences. The influence of his mother to be resilient, to strive for something, to do good despite hardship. And the darker, more authentic influence of his actual birthright--to reject ties of emotion, to commit acts of violence, to kill. In canon especially Kelrath had very little choice in anything--he's very much pulled back and forth between many different surrounding forces. Not to mention the fact that he was born into servitude (and as a male Drow at that). In the end, the only way to wrest any semblance of autonomy back for himself was basically to give up that very autonomy to Bhaal and the urge. It's not a choice that he can go back from, and everything changed after that.
🔑 (key) - What’s something your character has never told anyone? Why have they kept it a secret? What, if anything, would make them reveal it?
I think there's a lot that Kelrath has never told anyone because Kelrath is a very private person. He doesn't share details about himself. I think there are some things in canon that he's shared with Gortash and even Kaethan, little dismissive remarks or bits of information about his life in the Underdark but never anything too revealing ie "Pretty drow boys don't last long in the Underdark, trust me" "I met him during my time as a Dread Fang" "I killed my mother so I wouldn't know" etc In band au it's less information he's offered up and more inferences Gortash has been able to draw based on the fact that they are together so often on tour and writing music together. In both universes Gortash has gotten close enough to Kelrath to also pick up on the fact that he's aro/ace but that there's more to it than just that, has picked up on the fact that the depth of his disdain and disgust is a little too aggressive and reactive to just be that, that there's probably has some trauma behind it but he doesn't bother digging further than that. And now that I mention it, that said trauma is likely the only thing he truly won't share or admit. Not to anyone else and not even to himself. Because saying it, is thinking about it, is admitting that it happened. Kelrath is never going into detail about any of the moments that he was truly helpless or at the mercy of others.
And now for Kaethan!
🍋 (lemon) - What’s something your character never got over, if anything? Why did it affect them so much and is there any chance of them ever healing from it?
I think the thing that fucks Kaethan up the most is finding out why his mother left. Growing up he assumed it was because of his father being a violent drunk, that she escaped and left and he can't blame her too much for that. Sure, he would wonder why she didn't take him with her but he was willing to forgive that. In canon he eventually finds her and when he does she reveals that she left because she couldn't stand him. Not her husband but her son. And that he's not actually her son, she lost her child in childbirth and due to her grief and terror that her husband would blame her for the child's death, the temple where she'd gone to give birth gave her an orphaned half-elf infant that had been left on their doorstep that very morning. She took that child home, claiming it to be theirs and that child was Kaethan. She reveals to Kaethan, screaming in his face, that she always hated him, that he was a disturbed boy who would bring her dead insects, who'd sew pins into the dresses of rude customers, who'd say disturbing, off-putting things to clients. That he made her life worse and she left because she hated him. Unable to deal with this reality, Kaethan kills his mother In band au it's pretty similar except he kills her when he's very young (probably 8 or 9) finding her trying to leave in the middle of the night. she's his first kill in that au and he doesn't remember it until years later because the Urge had taken over. I think what makes this event truly traumatic for Kaethan (aside from, you know, the obvious) is that he thinks it proves everything that his father said about him right. That it WAS Kaethan's fault she left, that Kaethan ruins everything, that he's bad at everything and an awful son.
#some deep secrets and dark shit in this one#anyway these were really fun questions thank you!#ask#kelrath#kaethan
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31 Days of Dragon Age: Oct 01 - Introduce your Hero of Ferelden
(Technically a day late, oops!) Using these prompts. (I probably went overboard though, tbh.) Dragon Age: Origins was the game I got introduced to Dragon Age with back in 2010 when I was but 12 years old and so the HoF forever holds a special place in my heart. HoF is, in my opinion, the best example of being allowed to be who you want to be in the Dragon Age series with the most freedom of personality. HoF truly feels like YOUR character and I love that. Here are my favorite Heroes (because I CANNOT just tell you about 1) of Ferelden in no particular order: 1. Lyna Mahariel (Yes, I kept the default name, I liked it for her.)
Lyna is easily my most tragic character (and it was a total accident). Lyna has this habit of everyone she loves dying and leaving her alone. First it was her parents, then it was Tamlen (which really hit her hard as they were very much in love). She didn't even get time to properly mourn him before getting dragged (kicking and screaming) to Ostagar to join the Grey Wardens when she truly would have preferred to remain with her clan and die. She slowly began to recover and though she still mourned, she DID find herself slowly falling for Alistair... WHO she helped make king and then he ended their relationship. Obviously she was upset (as was I because this was the first time, I'd played a non-Cousland lol and I didn't know you could let him just stay with the wardens at the time). She was FURIOUS when Morrigan told her she needed to convince Alistair to sleep with her. Fastest nope ever, let me tell you. She went into the Battle of Denerim with every intention of striking the killing blow against the Archdemon but guess what? This was also my first time NOT doing the dark ritual and I took Alistair with me. He freaking stops her, tells her he loves her and goes and dies all heroically. (This was the first time this happened to me, and I definitely cried). Then comes Awakening and while everyone else makes it out, Anders and Justice appear to be dead. She mourns those sneaky little twits. Boy when she found out what happened... She was PISSED, let me tell you. And of course, later she finds out that her entire clan has been killed by Hawke and Co. Home girl cannot catch a break. She isolates herself now, never allowing herself to get too close to others, awaiting the day she can finally see her loved ones again. 2. Aurora Amell:
Aurora is probably closest to a canon warden that I have as I usually use her worldstate when I load into Dragon Age 2 and Inquisition because I just love the story implications. She was every bit a circle mage and never understood why anyone would ever want to leave (I think being trained by Irving made her that way), but still helped her friend Jowan when that was his wish. When it turned out he WAS in fact a blood mage she was horrified and never trusted him again. And yes. She liked Cullen. And apparently she just had a thing for Templars because she ended up with Alistair (she also had the sense to keep him in the wardens). Wynne was her most trusted confidante, with Leliana as a close second. She got along with everyone fairly well though. For her, the Dark Ritual was a painful and difficult choice, she didn't want to die, she didn't want Alistair to die, and Morrigan offered both of them a way out. She convinced Alistair and you know the rest. During Awakening, Anders didn't just up and disappear on her. She gave him permission. She had always only conscripted him to save his life and with the blight defeated, she didn't see a reason to force him to stay. She did NOT know about the Justice thing however, she'd have thumped him over the back of the head with her stave if she'd known about that. Also, she kept Sir Pounce-A-Lot when he left. Aurora eventually met Carver when he became a Grey Warden and through him she eventually met her favorite cousin, Amelia Hawke. Though Aurora is younger, she is very protective of her cousin, so much so that when she found out Anders had betrayed Amelia's trust and blown up the Chantry, Aurora may or may not have chased him around the room with fireballs until Alistair and Amelia physically restrained her... Aurora and Alistair have a daughter (because headcanons!) named Lydia who is actually going to be one of my Rooks (who I will tell you more about when it is time to introduce my Rooks in the prompts) 3. Elsa Cousland (No she was not named or designed after the Disney Character, I made her before Frozen was even a thing.)
Elsa is my "evil" character (or as close as I come to running evil characters). She is not cruel by any means, but she is rather power hungry and is very manipulative, buying affection, lying to make herself seem better than she is. She had always been an opportunist, looking to advance her and her family's station whenever possible. When Arl Howe killed nearly everyone in her family, she swore she'd have revenge, though that didn't mean she didn't deeply resent Duncan for coercing her into the Grey Wardens (that's how she felt about it). For the first time in her life, she felt resigned to her fate and she hated it, though she of course put on the facade of the selfless heroine. Morrigan was the only one she shared her true nature with, and they quickly became the best of friends. Alistair was strange to her, in more ways than one. Though she found him to be a bit of an idiot, she also recognized him as being genuinely kind, a trait she was not used to in those she knew. As much as she wanted to deny it, she did find herself falling in love with him, even before she found out he was Maric's son. When Arl Eamon suggested Alistair take the throne, she saw an opportunity to get what she had always wanted--the throne. So naturally during the Landsmeet she named Alistair king with her as his queen. She agreed to help Morrigan convince Alistair to do the dark ritual, as it seemed quite practical for her plans to become Queen. During Awakening she almost killed Nathaniel but thought it would be better revenge to have him become a Grey Warden instead. As for what she's been doing since, mostly she's been looking for a way for her and Alistair to have heirs. 4. Rita Brosca (Not to be confused with her sister Rica)
(And no, the background isn't bleeding through her face, I was trying a shading thing out on her and I didn't think to use a different color.)
Rita is the most reckless of my wardens never quite thinking before she acts, luckily she's pretty good at getting away with it (mostly). She thought Duncan was just the coolest dude ever even before he saved her life. When he died, she was almost as upset as Alistair, he was the first person to ever treat her like she was anything more than dirt. She and Morrigan bonded over their terrible mothers. Unlike my other previous Wardens, Rita didn't end up with Alistair. She found him to be more like a brother figure. Instead, she ended up with Zevran. Coming up from similar backgrounds, she could really relate to him and felt like she could be herself around him without judgement--heck if anything, approval! Leske's betrayal wasn't particularly surprising. She was really only surprised she couldn't talk him out of it. Idiot duster. During Awakening, when she found out about Oghren becoming a father, she really worked on encouraging him to get his crap together. To be more than some drunk loser to his child, so that his kid wouldn't end up resenting him like Rita resented her mother. Also she totally stole Anders idea of running away from the wardens. She ran off with Zevran and has been keeping quiet since. They even ended up having a daughter (who, yes is going to be another Rook of mine) named Wynnie (who is affectionately named after Wynne). 5. Ciara Surana:
Ciara is the sweetest of all of my wardens, always helping others and sparing her enemies when possible because she just saw the best in people. The Fifth Blight really didn't deserve her. She was fascinated by spirits and demons, always wanting to learn more about them. Solas really would have had a field day with her. She'd have pestered him non-stop with questions. To mine and everyone else's surprise, she did NOT end up with Alistair, rather with Zevran. Not that Alistair hadn't tried, Ciara was just too oblivious to notice Alistair's flirtations while Zevran made himself very clear. I like to think she had a positive influence on him. When Morrigan told her about the Dark Ritual, she felt very uncomfortable. She did tell Alistair about it but accepted his "no" without argument. Having made Alistair the king, she was determined to keep him alive and so she did not take him with her to fight the Archdemon, therefore it was her who dealt the final blow, sacrificing her life to save Ferelden and the rest of Thedas. I like to think her soul was not destroyed. That instead she was given a second chance at life as (you guessed it) another one of my Rooks, a mourn watcher Rook, to be specific. 6. Elena Tabris:
Last but not least, is Elena. Though she was considered quite the troublemaker in the Alienage, she was actually genuinely looking forward to getting married (and then the stupid shems just had to show up and completely wreck her wedding. Rude). She was grateful to Duncan for saving her when the guards came but was lowkey terrified of the man after watching Daveth and Jory die at the joining. She literally only drank the blood because she watched him kill Jory, before that, she'd been thinking about slinking off and running away. She used to be terrified of spirits and demons (so you know, the circle of Magi was fun for her) but Wynne's circumstance gave her a new perspective. They still give her the heebie-jeebies but she tries to keep an open mind (which is the only reason she was able to recruit Justice in Awakening. Him animating a corpse was deeply unsettling). Though she'd had a brief flirtation with Zevran (it never went anywhere beyond flirtation) she ultimately ended up with Alistair. When it came time for taking Alistair to see his sister, she let him give her money but I headcanon that she totally sneaked back in and stole it back for being such as massive b-- At the Landsmeet, she did not make Alistair king since he had always said he didn't want to be king. She didn't want to force him into anything that he didn't want. Elena had the hardest time with Morrigan's offer of the Dark Ritual, given her past. She also really loved Alistair and didn't want to risk him dying if she could prevent it, which is why she ultimately convinced him to do it. Eventually they had a daughter named Carwyn, who, would you believe it, is going to be another of my Rooks. But not just any Rook. My first Rook. I am very much looking forward to playing her on the 31st! That's it! That's all of the HoFs I want to share! I have played Origins NUMEROUS times and thus have many more, but it already took me all day to make all these portraits and quite frankly, I don't have the patience to do anymore. Thank you to anyone who was interested enough to read all this! You're a real trooper!
#dragon age#dragon age origins#fanart#31 days of dragon age#I have a blister from drawing so much today
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⭐ for the fic writer's ask!
Ah, a behind the scenes for Then, Now, and Always. Let's see....
Oh I know! I'll unpack the scene that got me the most negative feedback I've ever received on anything I've written: The Duel from Chapter 25: Battle of the Goddesses.
(I haven't talked about Then, Now, and Always in like a month, so be prepared for an essay.)
I thought up the silent Tally/enraged Alder epic duel very early on in the drafting process. Literally, it's in the first, very very rough draft in my docs, which is about 15 pages long and half-summary, half- little bites of scenes.
The reason I wanted them to have The Duel is twofold:
It's genuinely the most tragic thing I could think of for two people who love(d) each other. Y'know? Like Anakin and Obi-Wan on Mustafar. Badass scene, but you're fully aware of the tragedy all the way through. It's supposed to hurt that these two women who once loved each other are now on opposite sides of a war and forced to do battle.
2. I thought it would be fucking awesome.
Part of the inspiration of Then, Now, and Always was this scene:

Tally Craven's hottest scene in the whole show imo. What was I gonna do, give her an enhanced witch baton and not let her use it to full effect? And who else was she going to fight who mattered? It had to be Alder.
Also, Alder's headbutt was dumb. You can quote me on that.
Look, if nothing else, Alder and Tally fight in the actual show. And that fight is important, it does have narrative and thematic relevance, and there is a damn good reason it happened. Unfortunately, that fight is also LAME. Seriously, it is the lamest thing ever! And not even because Tally gets her ass kicked in seconds! The scene is shot cleverly, with perspective shifts and quick camera cuts to veil the fact that the actors and stunt doubles aren't really doing that much. It's the only time we see an actual scourge battle that might have given some indication as to why it's the weapon of choice for witches and why witches make such deadly soldiers. And then it's five seconds long and nothing special.
So I wanted to write a cool fight scene for the fic. Not a spar, by the way. Sparring scenes are popular in fiction, but I personally think they're pointless (unless the author is trying to accomplish something unserious). Literally, a spar is a fake fight. A fascimile. It isn't real. I wanted to write something very, very real. And that led to a lot of the narrative wrapping around making Battle of the Goddesses possible.
Someone on Discord posted during a TNAA discussion "Oh Alder would never hurt Tally." The thing about that is a.) canonically, she can and she has, and b.) For Then, Now, and Always, that's actually not an unreasonable assertion to make. Alder is carrying one hell of a torch. Therefore, I had to make Alder angry enough to actually fight Tally with no holds barred and every intention of beating her.
And that ended up making Chapter 24: Judgment, what it is. In that same very early doc, I had this Petra line.
Literally, that's all. I had no idea where I'd put it or for what reason, but it felt important. I knew about the Ozarks twist from the start, so I knew that someone had to call out Alder for her judgment eventually. Then I realized that, since my plan when I started drafting TNAA was to fix everything, including mandatory freaking conscription of a persecuted minority group, I had the perfect, perfect opportunity to make Alder vicious enough to kill.
Tally's trying dissolve the Salem Accords. That was her endgame the whole time.
Now Alder's angry enough to fight to the death and make the duel truly epic, Tally's goal is much broader, the fic has the chance to move into deeply philosophical, big-picture territory, and I get a pair of dope-ass chapters out of it. Eight birds, one stone. I was so happy.
Zooming back out, I think part of the reason a lot of folks were upset by Battle of the Goddesses pertains to my theory that fanfiction is like ice cream. Easy to eat, requires no effort, delicious and instantly satisfying. The main romantic pairing isn't supposed to fight each other to the literal death, even if it's fucking awesome and deeply symbolic. Duels/battles/wars between two love interests are common fare in sci-fi/fantasy because of their intense thematic and narrative heft, but not in fanfic. That's serving roasted sweet potatoes and kale at an ice cream parlor. It's too much for a lot of readers.
Finally, I think a lot of readers were upset about Alder losing the fight. Here's the thing:
It's not interesting if she wins.
Just like it's not interesting if Goliath beats David or if Jamal doesn't win the jackpot in Slumdog Millionaire. It's a story. The underdog has to win against all odds by their cleverness and mettle. Yes, I too, am sad that Sarah Alder's trauma was never addressed. She's a traumatized, damaged victim of the narrative and her story is a tragedy, start to finish. I think a big draw of the Talder ship is that it allows us to protect and humanize Alder in a way the show never did. Few people want to see her be the victim of even more pain in fic.
This doesn't change the fact that General Sarah Alder is brutal, unyielding, and violent. She's a three hundred year old soldier and her entire existence is war. She is not a good person. To defang her without earning it would be OOC. Trauma doesn't make good people. Healing makes good people. And there's no indication in canon that Sarah Alder has healed in any way, shape, or form.
If you've read this all the way til the end, that's very kind of you. Thanks for letting me ramble!
Why her character arc in Then, Now, and Always really doesn't start until Arc III lmao. When Alder is on her knees, defeated and disgraced, but instead of Petra and Tally going for the kill like they did in the show, they both offer a hand to help her back up. Alder heals because she's given the chance to do so by the people around her. Because I chose to not, y'know, immediately kill her off after tearing her from her pedestal. Genuinely, I have lost so much sleep over all of the amazing, transformative character work the show had in its damn lap and chose to ignore.
#talder#fanfic#nomi--sunrider#then now and always#tally craven#motherland: fort salem#sarah alder#asks
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Today in Politics Bulletin 37, 12/31/24
Ron Filipkowski
Jan 1
… Bernie Sanders has called Trump’s bluff on one of the hundreds of promises he made on the campaign trail. While Trump was busy promising everyone everything to get elected, he slipped in that he was going to pass a law to cap interest that credit card companies can charge at 10%. This would be huge for American consumers. Of course, Trump never had any intention of following through with that.
… So Sanders introduced legislation to do exactly what Trump promised. Now we will see if he really meant it, and what his Republican friends in the Senate think after they get a visit from banking lobbyists. Sanders: “During the recent campaign Donald Trump proposed a 10% cap on credit card interest rates. Great idea. Let’s see if he supports the legislation that I will introduce to do just that.”
… Rep. Victoria Spartz (R-IN) was asked why she first announced she wasn’t running for Congress again, but then changed her mind: “Unfortunately, I have to fight my own party because my party is betraying the American people. I was getting PTSD from this job. I think maybe I need to spend more time and get my sanity back. But a lot of people in my district were upset. So I said okay I’ll just let the people and God decide.”
… I agree with her about needing to get her sanity back.
… Steve Bannon continued to hammer away at the Tech Bros on his show: “Sacks, Musk, and Vivek - I’ve taken down bigger guys before.”
… Former George W. Bush Campaign Manager Stuart Stevens, who is now a Democrat, says that people should not ignore the fact that Steve Bannon has turned on Elon Musk: “Bannon is a guy who has defined himself as a thug, and thugs must do thuggish things. I think Musk has no idea what he’s getting into when he gets in a fight with Bannon over this.”
… Stevens then explained that if Bannon is ever able to turn Trump against Musk as he’s trying to do, that could be a big problem for him: “There’s been reporting that Musk was not a student when he got a visa, and when he made his application for naturalization he put false information on that document. That is grounds for revoking citizenship. It happens all the time. One reason why Musk is so obsessed with immigration is because he knows this. I wouldn’t bet against Steve Bannon.”
(NOTE: PRESIDENT BIDEN SHOULD REVOKE AND DEPORT MUSK NOW!!!!!)
… Trump made a rare post on X today. He posts a lot on Truth Social but has averaged only about 1 a week on X. This was today: “Senate Democrats are organizing to improperly stall and delay the confirmation process of many of our Great Nominees. They will try all sorts of tricks starting very soon. Republicans must not allow them to do that. We have a Country to run, and many big problems to solve, mostly created by Democrats. REPUBLICANS, BE SMART AND TOUGH!!!”
… I have a theory that the words he randomly chooses to capitalize is some kind of code to his QAnon followers, but I haven’t cracked it yet.
… Elon Musk bizarrely changed his name on X today to “Kekius Maximus” and changed his profile photo to an alt-right, white nationalist meme that combines the Maximus character from Gladiator with the groyper Pepe the Frog. Kekius comes from the name of a fringe cryptocurrency. It is unknown whether Musk has an ownership stake in that particular coin, but he has promoted others in the past that he does own - including DOGE.
… Meanwhile, Musk addressed allegations that the “Adrian Dittmann” account that constantly praises him, which he reposts and promotes often, is really him: “Suppose for a moment that Adrian Dittmann IS my sock puppet account I use to flatter my main. Isn’t the Left always telling people to love themselves? Or am I just not loving myself in their narrow, conscripted, ‘right’ way? Hypocrisy at it’s finest.”
… This is why happens when a bad human also becomes a ketamine addict.
… Former Trump Press Secretary Sean Spicer posted a poll on X which asked if Republicans agreed with Musk on the H-1B visas or if they agreed with Steve Bannon on it. He got over 92,000 votes, with 67% siding with Bannon over Musk.
… But Musk continued his purge and punishments of right-wing accounts today who disagreed with him on this. White nationalist talk show host Stew Peters (758,000 followers): “Elon Musk is STEALING money from my subscribers and LYING to them. This morning I woke up to find that removed my blue check mark and canceled my ability to have subscribers. My subscribers were told that I canceled my subscription service and they would not be refunded for the next two weeks in which they’ve already paid X for, but which won’t allow me to provide them content. This is intentional deceit and theft.”
… White nationalist Nick Fuentes: “Today X appears to have un-verified 5 more prominent critics of the H-1B program. Their checkmarks were taken, subs were refunded, and character limit reduced. This is now overt political censorship. This comes after the Project Groyper brand account and all of its affiliates were suspended last week.” Sad!
… It might be time for a class action lawsuit. I suggest ‘Racist Broke MFers v. World’s Richest Racist MFer’.
… The stock market under Biden’s economy has been red hot for two years, breaking all-time highs on a regular basis. We are on course to have the best two year performance this century, with the highest returns on investments since 1997-98. The market was up 24% in 2023 and another 20% in 2024. Now we will see how things go with Trump.
… Republican Rep. Eric Burlison says that Trump’s DOJ needs to investigate J6: “We truly had some very disturbing things happen with the FBI and their involvement. They created many entrapment scenarios on American citizens who were just simply patriotic and wanted to express their 1st Amendment rights. Instead, they were enticed and encouraged to do things that they didn’t even know might be illegal.”
… But Burlison wasn’t done: “I also personally would like to see us continue the investigation of the Biden family.”
… AdImpact Politics study of spending in the 2024 election shows total amount spent by both campaigns combined was $3.2 billion, which was $70 million more than 2020. From the day Biden dropped out, Democrats spent $1.45 billion and Republicans spent $988 million.
… The total spent on ads for all US political campaigns in 2024 was $11.1 billion.
… $1.7 billion was spent on House races. The two most expensive races were NY-19 at $50 million and ME-02 at $42 million. Democrats narrowly won both races with Josh Riley winning in NY 51-49% and Jared Golden winning in Maine 50.3%-49.7%.
… $260 million in ads was spent on the abortion issue alone in 2024.
… Former Democratic Rep. Jamaal Bowman, who lost his primary to George Latimer after pulling the fire alarm in the Capitol and other incidents, told NBC that he may run for Governor of NY or Senate: “I’m a badass motherf—-er. For someone to have to spend $25 million to beat me - that must mean I’m a bad motherf—-er. I must be doing the right thing, fighting for the right things., and they are desperate and scared.”
… Trump’s incoming WH Press Secretary Karoline Leavitt says that she plans to completely remodel the WH Briefing Room. I agree it is a cramped space that is poorly laid out, but this quote made me wonder if it is more than just about the setup: “We’re exploring ways to make sure that room reflects the media habits of the American people in 2024, not the 1980s.”
… Not exactly sure what that means, but I have a feeling it has something to do with getting fringy right-wing podcasters and independent media into the room in front of legacy media.
… NewsNation host Chris Cuomo says one of the reasons Democrats lost the election is because they downplayed the assassination attempt of Trump: “What I found completely appalling and outrageous was how unimpressed lefties were by Trump getting shot in the head. That’s exactly why you lost the election. You are out of touch. You lost the plot about how people feel in the majority. That’s what you did. And that was a perfect example of it. That situation? ‘Well, I think it was just a teleprompter.’ You would have never assessed it that way if you didn’t wish the guy had died.”
… I disagree with the first part of Cuomo’s statement and have no comment on the last part.
… Doesn’t sound like Ivanka Trump will be going anywhere near the WH this time around: “My intention for 2025 is to lean into love, courage, and purpose—and to keep growing through it all. Here’s to fresh starts, deepening relationships, living with presence, being more gentle with ourselves and each other, and the beauty of what’s yet to come!”
… Then she posted a swimsuit photo. Living her best life on Saudi money.
… The Atlantic announced that they are hiring a bunch of new reporters to expand their political coverage for the Trump Administration. Two of the new additions are WaPo reporters Ashley Parker and Michael Scherer with others rumored to be announced soon.
… Matt Gaetz said the biggest reason why Trump got involved in endorsing Mike Johnson for Speaker yesterday is because he was worried about his election needing to be certified on Monday, and the Speaker election is this Friday. Without a Speaker sworn in before J6, the House can’t proceed with certifying the election for Trump.
… Four years ago, Trump wanted the certification delayed on J6 to cause chaos in a desperate attempt to hold on to power. Now he wants to make sure that certification isn’t delayed by the chaos of a Speaker election stretching on into the weekend. Gaetz: “We would have never held up McCarthy two years ago for concessions if a Trump certification hung in the balance. Now it does.”
… Thank you so much for supporting us in 2024. I know it ended up being a tough year. I fear 2025 and beyond will be quite a bit more difficult. When so many are appeasing and caving to curry favor with the new regime, that will never be our approach to dealing with Trump and this Administration because we are clear-eyed about who these people are, and we know what they intend to do. While others surrender, we will never stop fighting. Thanks for joining us in that.
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The Book of Boba Fett - Episode 3 thoughts
heyo here's me back with the ramblings! please accept my humble offerings of thoughts and analysis for this episode, for funsies only <3 no arguments, spoilers beneath the cut
i love the difference between fennec and boba - he'll listen and take a petition with no appointment, she's ready to shoot and dismiss immediately 😂 it's so interesting because you'd almost think it would be the other way around but nah, he's chill and she's paranoid <3 (i don't know if other media shows this more, i haven't watched the bad batch which i know fennec appears in, and i haven't read any of the comics with boba in it)
i genuinely love how sincere boba is about being daimyo like, he keeps going "i am the daimyo and i will bring order" and he's being so serious but no one is used to that do they think he's being silly because ??? why are you walking around like that dude
also obsessed with sophie thatcher appearing in this (i love prospect so much and i'm happy to see her in such a different role compared to that)
you can feel the love boba has for his dad in the kamino flashbacks and it breaks my heart fr
the music <3
i never thought about how it would make boba feel to see all the storm trooper heads on the sticks. i know that at the later stages of the empire it was mostly conscripts but surely it would invoke memories of the clones? idk it made me think about it and now i'm sad
NO NOT THE FUCKING TUSKEN CAMP FUCK nononono the music too stop it this is so sad fuck that nikto gang (though was it them??? i have a funny feeling it could be more cause would the tuskens really lose to a gang like that?? or is it just slightly bad writing idk)
the kids stick too i'm actually in tears this is so fucking upsetting why does everyone have to die all the time
there's something so nasty about attacking a person when they're in the middle of something medical, cause let's face it, the bacta tank is medical and krssantan straight up decked boba in his underwear jesus man
gotta respect the mods for still coming in to help (yeah it's their job but again, they could've said nope and left him to it) - also why is this dude so obsessed with biting people lmao
fennec's disapproving little shake of head lmaoo she's giving older sister vibes
poor rancor- is that danny trejo??????
i love how genuinely confused krssantan is to be let go - boba is way too kind and i can feel fennec's disapproval through the screen
boba immediately falling in love with the rancor and wanting to train and ride it and giving it loving scratches <3 totally obsessed with this man he's so fascinating
"excuse me, lord fett" "not now i'm busy" is such a pet owners response when they're giving or receiving love from their baby oh my god
i genuinely have tears in my eyes from how funny it is that these mods have the equivalent of space vespas because i was expecting the equivalent of harley davidsons if i'm honest and it's so disappointing they got these shiny ass candy looking speeders instead 💀 i cannot take them seriously when they're on the vehicles sorry the hardcore punk aesthetic clashes so hard with the bright primary colour ass mopeds
mr moustache receptionist at the mayor's office is once again sending me into orbit because his stare could kill this fucking majordomo in an instant if he was force sensitive and i am so amused - this extra deserves so much more attention man, who is he and why isn't he in a major role
dude this is the least satisfying chase scene ever sorry but they're going like 30mph max??? i can't take them seriously this looks ridiculous and it's probably the worst scene in the show so far
thanks for reading!! people seem to be enjoying my star wars posts which is nice, i don't talk about it that often but i've started playing SWTOR and i'm enjoying it!! created a new jedi character for it and i'm getting attached so might write up a character sheet for her soon :)
#tbobf#tbobf spoilers#the book of boba fett#star wars#boba fett#fennec shand#temuera morrison#ming na wen
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hmmmmm what else do i got!
irkens take dustbaths on a need-to basis. not any scheduled interval, more like "my boss just made me jump in a vat of boiling oil, now i need to rid my regenerated skin of it" hence zim's "cleansing chalk" (its.... kinda dusty)
irkens have a specialized dental-gum that they chew when their teeth need it, which, isnt often -- they dont really have plaque buildup. more like leftover foodgunk. the gum picks it all up, and the irken gets to eat all the food they missed by swallowing the gum. win-win.
they dont require sleep, but non-soldier irkens (and some soldiers/drones who have earned citizenship) have housing units that they can return to at the end of a work shift. some have pod-looking beds, but most irkens find it more useful to buy computers and technology that can keep them awake and keep their PAKs busy, as opposed to resting. can you imagine wasting all that time? when you literally have a supercomputer attached to you designed to take care of that? cmon.
speaking of citizenship, irkens come in three (generalizing, its kinda an umbrella???) varieties.
one: soldiers. this is what zim, sneakyonfoota, skoodge, even the tallest are.
two: citizens.
three: drones.
citizens and soldiers obtain the same amount of basic soldier training, but where soldiers move up to advanced and elite, citizens are flitted over to other, less (usually) hazardous kinds of training. think like a college with multiple courses instead of a specialized one. maybe. idk how colleges work.
a tallest can be picked from either category. that's up to the control brains to determine.
citizens can become soldiers either through a consensual paperwork-intensive system, where they want to become a soldier (what tak did, and why zim ruining her chances of getting into elite was so detrimental), or through conscription, where you are empire-mandated to join due to lacking soldier numbers.
soldiers can become citizens by either being tall enough, or having enough accomplishments to earn citizenship (which you really only ever get the chance to have by being tall, so... good luck with that). they see no issues with this system. they were hatched and raised with the ideals of the empire drilled into their PAKs. they have no reason to envy citizens. theyre doing their empire a service, and they revel in it.
citizens are very envious of soldiers.
soldiers and citizens can become drones by either: a) being under 150 units (zim is just shy of this, unfortunately for everyone) or b) failing basic training, or c) doing something awful enough to warrant reencoding (something zim is too dumb to stick to.)
zims PAK coding technically still has him classified as a foodcourtia/shloogorgh's food service drone. not soldier. similarly, tak is coded as a dirt cleaning drone. not citizen, and not soldier. they are both living in their own little idealized versions of the universe where they get everything they want -- the only difference being, while zim thinks he's on top, tak realizes she's at rock bottom, and is desperately trying to claw her way up.
the only way to stop being a drone is to grow out of it (which most dont). if you do, you can either: become a soldier (if you didnt fail basic) or become a faux-citizen. its almost the same as citizenship, but you have less rights, thanks to your history, and youve got a little emblem on your uniform that lets everyone know about your history, and they all mock you relentlessly for it.
tak also has the emblem (triangle on her uniform). its basically the irken version of a "kick me" sign.
slaps table
NOW I WANNA DO LORE???????? OR HEADCANONS. BUT. GRH?!?? did you know that the previous tallest before miyuki was called tallest vurp? its true. i didnt just make it up in under five seconds months ago during a conversation with a friend and stick with it. thats absurd
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Pilus-Prior Bassus of the Ninth Cohort is, above all, a practical man. When a footsoldier reports that the boy heaving up his guts in the Hviti isn’t a victim of bad beans, that he only killed a man on third watch last night, he laughs.
“If there were a problem with our provisions,” he says, waving the messenger off, “that would be something to worry about, auxilary. Dismissed.”
So the footsoldier thumps her mailed chest in salute, rattling the rusty links of her shirt, and ducks out of the officer’s tent. She feels eyes on her at once. They’ve been staring at her since she reported back from Eastmarch, the conscripts dicing around their fires, the tesserary frowning over his ledger, even the barking dogs; pretending nobly to ignore them all, she strides across the encampment with her chin aloft, curling her tail like a battle-standard.
It’s a bene day, she thinks. The birds are scolding each other, chirr-chirrup-chirr. The wheat is nodding in the wind, filling the fields with a summery, hot-oven smell. Bivvies and barricades cluster around Whiterun’s skirts, waiting for war.
And the boy, some distance from the tattered sea of tents, is still leaning over the river.
“Quit losing your legumes,” the footsoldier says, and hooks the collar of his vápntreyja with a punctilious claw. She’s afraid he might fall in. “Bassus”—she opens and closes her mouth like a fish, an old joke about the man’s namesake—“wants you on the wall.”
The boy, his hair crawling sweaty into his face, gives her a wretched look. Then he doubles over again.
She gathers back his hair, a Haafing tangle of bleached braids, and lets him dangle by it until he’s done. He makes an ungracious noise, then, still greenish, and wobbles off to collapse under a tree with roots gnarling out of the grass every which way. The footsoldier, after an amused pause, sits down with him. She waits. She eavesdrops on the river, foaming on the flat rocks, babbling with the wind in the trees.
“Sicked everywhere, meself,” she offers, once he looks like the mention of it won’t turn the tap again. “First time I stuck someone.”
The boy glowers at her. “Sure you did.”
“Did so.” The footsoldier squints her eyes in a smile; showing her teeth, which are sharper than most, tends to frighten folks. “Stops twisting your insides after a bit, though, and that’s the holey truth. Or my name en’t Shiv-In-Your-Side Scapegrace.”
That wins a horrified smile from the boy, like she’d hoped. She’s not sure why she keeps thinking boy—he looks her own age, or thereabouts. Eighteen. Nineteen.
“I’m Jorik,” he says, still smiling. It makes him look younger. “Jorik Oaken-Crook. Um. Really?”
“Alas, poor Jorik,” says the footsoldier, pulling a mock-mournful face, “really. Barely crammed it on the enlistment form.”
“No, I—I meant—”
“Hold on,” says the footsoldier, only half-listening. Fainting from hunger, she reasons, is best done on the ground, not on a battlement. She rummages in her pack. “Best eat something before you report back.”
The smile falls off the boy’s face. “Eck.”
The footsoldier snorts and resurfaces with a wrinkled apple. She moves to pass it to the boy.
Then she stares at it, remembering, of all things—
—ugh, she thinks, no—
—yes, remembering how her da, whenever she eyed an apple from a fruit-seller’s stall, would never hand it to her. He’d peel it with his penknife first, paring the tart skin from the fruit in one perfect, patient curl, and pass it to her slice by slice—until one day she’d snapped at him for it, not understanding what a slice of apple meant.
Now she feels queasy, too. Maybe it is the beans.
“You’ll not like it,” she says to the boy, because she’d better say something reassuring. He looks like he knows what a slice of apple means. She digs her claws—all she’s got—into the fruit. “Not with a sword. Not with a bow. Not with your teeth.” She wrenches the apple in half. It’s a mangled mess, now, bleeding juice all over her hands. “But it needs doing. Name like that—you’re a shepherd’s son, en’t you?”
Jorik, she notes, is turning greenish again. Alas. “Aye—”
The footsoldier, still busy with the apple, forestalls him with a claw. Then she holds out a dripping slice of fruit, scored all over, despite her best efforts, with oozy scars.
“Well,” she says. “Them marching here, poor Jorik”—she smiles with her teeth, now—“they’re only sheep.”
The boy, pale as the inside of an apple, stares at her. He swallows.
Then he nods, as if she’s imparted some great wisdom, and takes the butchered slice from her hand.
* * *
“Rano,” calls Pilus-Prior Bassus across the encampment. “Or—Scapegrace, or whatever you call yourself. Third watch tonight.”
The footsoldier from earlier, who had abandoned the stewpot-line to duck quickly behind one of the tents, reappears.
“Yes, sir,” she croaks—looking a bit, thinks Bassus, like a sick cat. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, then straightens into a crisp salute. “Bene day, sir.”
“That it is,” says Bassus, and watches her go. When he loses sight of her among the tents, he raises his eyebrows and turns to his tesserary.
“That one will go far,” he says with satisfaction. “She has the stomach for it.”
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Fic Rec (it's been too long and I read a whole lot of fics)
I've read so many fics these past couple of months and my need to share them to the world has seized me by the throat. Please enjoy and support these fanfic writers! They are the best. XD
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[Naruto]
Nine-Tailed Foxes are Dead by RowlettLesbian
Ship: Shikamaru/Naruto
For Konoha, it's been one month since the preliminary Chunin exams. For Naruto, it's been six. And he wasn't in Konoha.
At the end of his ordeal, Naruto walks into the Chunin Exam finals without his left arm.
Shikamaru is very concerned. And, eventually, very precious to Naruto as they work together to solve the mysteries of Konoha and bring kindness to the Shinobi world, one adventure at a time.
(I would die for this fic. I know the summary sounds doom and gloom but IT'S NOT. This fic made me fucking cry, I don't think I've ever read a fic that characterized Naruto so right. He's so full of hope and love and develops into the best version of himself and I'm so HERE FOR IT. And it's not just Naruto, Shikamaru is absolutely amazing here along with Kakashi and surprise surprise Ino, I can't BELIEVE it took me this long to stumble across this fic. Also THE WORLDBUILDING IS TO DIE FOR!!! And the plot! Is! So! Interesting! Just, everything about this fic is just amazing so please PLEASE read this!!!)
The End of the Uchiha by RowlettLesbian
Ship: Naruto/Sasuke
“I promise, little electric spirit of this shrine,” he whispered into the soft dirt and fallen leaves, “I will never gain the eyes. I will never pass them on. And I will make sure the eyes end in my brother, so that they can’t hurt anybody anymore. I will be the last Uchiha, and see to the end of the Copy-Wheel Clan. Then all of the hatred here can stop, and my family can rest peacefully. I promise, little shrine.”
Sasuke is more than his brother thinks he is. He's more than any Uchiha has ever been. He will kill his brother, but it will not be vengeance.
It will be mercy.
(Same author as the one above, they are the gift that keeps on giving. Seriously, HOW did I NEVER FIND THESE FICS before now??? One of life's greatest mysteries. The author's sense of humor is so on point here along with the atmospheric writing that's so vivid in the mind. Their writing style is so recognizable to me now and makes me fall into the world they're creating, it's stunning. Sasuke here makes me want to hug him and the idea of him living like a feral ghibli character has me LIVING. Check the tags of the fic, all of it is true, hand to god. Please give all of the author's fics a shot, it's a rabbit hole I'm thankful I fell into!)
mil fantasmas (gritan en calma) by LegaciesandMemories
Post-Tsukuyomi, something in Uchiha Sasuke's mind shatters. The same night, Yamanaka Ino falls asleep and doesn't wake up for 15 days.
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In which Ino and Sasuke both wake from the aftermath of the Uchiha Massacre with the ability to see ghosts, and no one is prepared for the fallout.
(This fic has arrested my curiosity and eagerness to know what will happen next. These poor kids need so many hugs and Ino is getting the spotlight she deserves. I am so excited for this fic and what it has in store! Please read! XD)
Lichtenberg Figures by Asteroid_Duck (JustThatOneGirl1815)
Name: Kakashi Hatake Rank: Jounin Status: Missing Nin Missing Since: June 15th, 271 AD Note: Flee on Sight . . . Haburashi looked his team in the eyes— three, fresh out of the Academy genin— and resolved to teach them as best as he could. And right now, his lesson was simple: “Stay. Away. From. Kakashi. Hatake.”
(Dimension travel fic with a slice of Kakashi being an absolute troll and dealing with the shitty hand he's been dealt with. Seriously, the man has the worst luck in all of Konoha. Also, the mystery of the other Kakashi's history has me leaning by the edge of my seat, I need to know.)
The Governess by Ysmirel
Ship: Kakashi/OFC
"“What,” he finally asked, “is so funny?”
Ibara bit her lower lip to keep the chuckles in, still smiling and making absolutely no effort to get more space between them, seemingly perfectly at ease within reach of a trained shinobi. Her self-control wasn't all that good, as she ended up snorting and was overcame once again by another fit of laughter. “I just- It's just-” She struggled to speak, trying to catch her breath and wiping away tears of mirth with the hand that wasn't still holding onto his vest. Finally, she looked him in the eye and said, with a smile that was all teeth and without a hint of her previous drunken stupor, “and who's going to believe you?”
As he stood there, stunned by her words and change in demeanor, he realized with dawning horror that she was right."
In which Kakashi finds himself at the other end of the troll shtick, and he doesn't appreciate it all that much.
(It's so hard to find self-insert fics with a fresh concept these days, especially in the naruto fandom. Not that I don't enjoy and devour a lot of self insert fics like it's going out of style, but it's just so nice to find something new and shiny and really damn good. I'm so pumped for this fic and how it's going to develop so please join me in rooting for this fic!)
half a league (until the valley of death) by SpectersShadow117
Kakashi can think of no reason for Sasuke's inexplicable and drastic change in behavior. He doesn't like the desperate, haunted gleam in his student's eyes, and he also doesn't like the nagging feeling that he's missing something very important. Aka: Future Sasuke goes to Past Sasuke and gives him a reality check with Specific Intentions, but as with most Uchiha, his methods leave much to be desired. (Featuring: Childhood trauma FTW, Konoha's shitty care of orphans, and absolutely no one having a fun time.)
(Sasuke wanting to change the future out of complete and utter spite has me LIVING. Sasuke is such a Mess here and the twist on the time travel premise is so good and the kid is so Traumatized and Desperate and Not Having A Good Time. Naruto and Sakura developing as better ninjas and Kakashi trying his best makes me want to scream. Also, how Sasuke thinks about Itachi makes me want to cackle. I am 100% down for this. I am rooting for this kid, go get them! XD)
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[Harry Potter]
fruit loops in time (circle around me) by justprompts
Ships: Harry/Draco, Remus/Sirius
"This is Crabbe, and Goyle," the blonde boy says, pointing at the two boys next to him. "And I'm Malfoy, Draco Ma - "
Ron laughs, and Malfoy immediately bristles.
"Think my name's funny, do you?" Malfoy says, angrily. "No need to ask yours - "
"You're honestly so cute," Ron interrupts, yet again, shaking his head. "So tiny. And so angry, all the time. It's adorable."
Alternatively Ron Weasley, Time Traveller Extraordinaire, is stuck in the same seven year Hogwarts Loop, repeating the same thing over and over again. Naturally, he's so done with everything.
(This is the greatest hp fic I've ever read. I LOVE RON WEASLEY and by the time you read this fic SO WILL YOU!! This is the fic I WISH I have the ability to write. I read this entire fic aloud to my brother and we spent literal hours howling and talking about how utterly insane and incredible this fic is, it's amazing. This is hands down my favorite Ron Weasley. You Can Pry This Fic From My Cold Dead Fingers.)
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[Boku no Hero Academia]
Kacchan's Cult by Ourliazo
Pro Hero Ground Zero is attacked, originally meant to be de-aged out of existence by a desperate villain but is instead launched into his 14-year-old self.
But Katsuki is a fucking pro so whatever, time to fuck up someone's day. And sure, maybe he's only one man, but that's why he conscripts the entirety of the UA student body into tearing down some criminal empires.
(It's time travel, crack, and Bakugou being his usual explody, competent self. What more in life do you want? Seriously though, please read. I'm obsessed with this fic and having a Good Time!)
Cleaning Crew; Teaching Kids to Value their Safety, for Fun and Profit by Reavv
Takenaka Hideo is a thirty-two year old, in mild desperation for money, who has just been hired as a new janitor for UA's support staff. He has a quirk that lets him find lost objects, a liaison with the police because of it, and desperate desire for competent co-workers.
Oh, and he's already lived a previous life, in a world where quirks and heroes didn't even exist.
Not a big deal, though. It's not like you ever see the janitor playing a big part in action movies. He's here to get paid, and that's it.
On the opposite side of the equation, class 1-A has to wonder at the new UA cryptid that always seems to show up when things are on fire, and who keeps trying to convince them to let the adults handle the fire extinguisher.
(A great deal of fun packed into one fic. That is how I title this fic and nothing will change my mind! Hideo just wants to quietly do his job and not get in the way. I Relate. Please read!)
Poltergeist by WriterGreenReads
Class 1-A is haunted.
Well, not really.
I AM dead, though.
World's friendliest poltergeist, at your service.
(I don't know how I got so sucked into OC fics, but I found some fantastic fics along the way so I have no regrets. The author really tries to push the premise and I just love all the interactions and dynamics that form as the fic gets further in. And the OC character and all the hijinks they get up to cracks me up! At the same time, it's pretty heartwarming and it's practically a friendships galore fic! Definitely recommend it!)
invincible by supercrunch for Engrin
Ship: Bakugou/Midoriya
This is the way the world works: the sun rises in the east. The strong come out on top. Bakugou Katsuki rockets through life like a comet and Midoriya Izuku stumbles after. If he believed in such things Katsuki would say it was written in the stars. That some god of war had looked at him and said this one. That he’d been passed along a line to get his blessings – genius, willpower, fearless ambition – and dropped off on earth.
Then, of course, there is the question of Deku. The spitfire runt. Deku, no matter what the world does to him, never stops hoping.
Until, of course, he eventually does.
(Katsuki broke him. Snapped him in half like a twig and now has to scramble to put Deku back together. “We can do this, Deku," he says slowly. "There are so many mysteries that never got put to bed. Criminals roaming around looking to hurt people and you and me, we can fix that.”
There’s a long pause. The comforter slips a little off Deku’s skinny shoulders and drowns him. “You mean like a team?”
In that split second, Katsuki makes a decision he’s never even considered. He swallows his pride. “Yeah, Deku. We’d be a team.”)
(If there was any other way canon could've gone, this is the story I would've wanted. It's perfect.)
Inadvertent Wilderness Therapy by Cacid
Following an unfortunate encounter with a teleporter on the last day of internships, Bakugou Katsuki and Hakamata Tsunagu spend some quality time in northern Canada.
In no particular order they will: build ugly survival shelters, stalk rabbits, run from polar bears, reflect on the chemical composition of trees, insult each other, and complain about krumholtz.
(THESE TWO. TOGETHER. IN THE WILDERNESS. IN FUCKING CANADA OF ALL PLACES. I still can't believe this fic actually exists and just how INVESTED I became in their relationship. Blue Jeanist instantly became my favorite ranked hero with this fic alone. HIS SENSE OF HUMOR IS TERRIBLE, I LOVE HIM SO MUCH FNIEWOPAF. BAKUGOU DOES TOO. IT'S FUCKING INCREDIBLE. *incoherent screeching into the wild*)
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[Stranger Things]
Baci D'aria by RabbitDarling
“Love is worth the sum of itself, and nothing more.” ― Alice Hoffman, Practical Magic
Steve learned a lot at his Aunt's side before she passed but his favourite thing she taught him was baci d'aria; special little spells that you created from the heart and put into the food you shared.
In opening his heart and gifts to those around him Steve slowly finds himself a family in a way he never thought he'd get to experience. One by One he collects pre-teens to trail in his wake like ducklings and Steve can't even refute it by the time he realizes what has happened.
(This fic is so soft and Steve is just collecting people and winning them over with his magical food (literally). I am always a sucker for heartwarming, good for the soul fics so if you want to make yourself hungry and feel all warm and gooey inside, read this!)
(Don't Fear) The Reaper by TeaFourTwo
Ship: Steve/Billy
He looks down at the blood on his hands and on the floor and wonders why the memory hasn’t broken yet, why he isn’t back in Starcourt mall with control of his body again, wonders if he's even still alive at all. Is this hell then? Or perhaps purgatory? It certainly isn’t heaven, that’s for sure. None of this makes any sense…but then what's new—nothing in Billy’s life makes sense anymore.
Billy laughs then, loud and long and unhinged. It's the only sound in the whole house, and it bounces off the walls like a fucked up echo, like the world is laughing with him.
“Jesus christ you’re insane…” It’s Max’s voice and it’s shaking. It only makes Billy laugh harder, because Max has it all wrong. Billy isn’t crazy, it’s the rest of the world that’s insane.
--
Billy dies a hero of sorts. He wakes up back in his bed on Saturday morning, the third of November, 1984...nearly nine months earlier.
(Billy is stuck in a time loop and it's slowly driving him crazy. And the fic shows just how much influence Billy did have in the plot and how doomed the world is without him in it. Great character exploration with Billy's character and all the ways he's so messy and human. Definitely recommend it!)
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[Knives Out]
The Road Less Traveled By by UisceOneLove
Ship: Marta/Ransom
If Harlan wants to leave Ransom to be on his own, fine. He'll show him just what Ransom Drysdale is capable of.
or, where Ransom chooses to prove his abilities through means of the non-homicidal variety and finds himself becoming exactly what Harlan was hoping he would.
(I found this fic out of sheer chance and god, Ransom is just, so fascinating to me as a character. Marta of course is the Best here and I will forever stan her. Seriously, this is such a good fic! Please read!)
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[Haikyuu!!]
Sky Full of Stars by grilledsquids
The Hinatas are twins. They're practically identical.
But while Shouyou seeks out Karasuno's volleyball team to become the next Little Giant, Natsu is scouted to to play soccer for Shiratorizawa. While Shouyou sets his eyes on playing volleyball at the highest level possible, his sister wonders how much longer she can play soccer... and if it's worth it to keep going.
A Natsu-centric story featuring: Shiratorizawa VBC shenanigans, too many soccer OCs, mild teenage drama, a little bit of plot, and Semi Eita not knowing what a period is.
(It's just!! So cute and wholesome!!! The Shiratorizawa volleyball team is so fleshed out along with the OC characters for the girl's soccer team and I swear, it's been a long while since I've laughed this much at the sheer shenanigans that happen in a fic. It's surprisingly hard to find good gen fics in this fandom so finding this gem made me so happy! If you want a fic that brings a smile to your face, read this!!)
like water by speakingincode
Ship: Oikawa/Kageyama
“Oikawa,” Iwaizumi says, and when Tooru looks at him, he can read My best friend’s an idiot off the crease of his eyebrows. “Are you telling me you spent the last three years weirdly obsessed with Kageyama – I still remember the time you made us play him on a dumb whim, you know – and now you’re at his beck and call? Are you okay? What the hell is wrong with you?”
“I’m— I’m not at his beck and call! I said no last week. It’s… It’s like you said. I get bored easily. I saw him at the park a couple weeks after they played Nationals and called him a perfect little tyrant, and he pestered me into spending time with him after,” Tooru says. “I’m not a monster, Iwa-chan. If he wants the company of his cool, handsome ex-upperclassman that badly, who am I to begrudge him?”
Or: Oikawa doesn't know why Kageyama keeps asking to meet him on Saturdays. He also doesn't know why he keeps saying yes.
(The fact this fic is canon-compliant and covers post-canon too makes me want to shout to the heavens. Fucking incredible! One of the best Oikakage fics ever and it's a crime how it's not at the top of the ship tag. Please please read!!)
twist into your shape by kakkoweeb
Ship: Oikawa/Kageyama
The only thing better than sweets were sweets containing paper that told you whether your future would be good or bad--or in Kageyama and Oikawa's case, paper that somehow caused you to live inside each other's bodies.
(Everyone probably already read this fic but it needs to be said, you need to read this fic. How these two try and manage each other's lives and slowly start to care about one another is so beautiful and sincere and I am ready to wrestle anyone to the floor and comply them into reading this fic. Doesn't matter if you like the ship, you will become a fan if you read it, I promise. Please please read!!)
Take the Long Road Home by pepperfield
Ship: Kuroo/Sawamura
When Azumane Asahi goes missing before his engagement meeting with Kozume Kenma, what other option is there but for Daichi to impersonate his brother and fake his way through a first date with Asahi's fiance?
Okay, let's be realistic - there were probably at least four other options.
Unfortunately, Tetsurou couldn't come up with any of them either, so now he's here flirting with Kenma's future husband while trying to keep his web of deceit from collapsing.
It's going to be an eventful day.
(I got obsessed with this ship alongside Oikakage and SO WILL YOU. THE POTENTIAL. THE BANTER. THE FACT THEY'RE BOTH DORKS AND THE FIC HAS IDENTITY SHENANIGANS DANCING ALL OVER IT!! I had so much fun reading this and these two are MEANT TO BE FENIWPAF. If you don't see the potential of this ship, you will now.)
a misunderstanding a day keeps the boyfriend away by bartallen for betuls
Ship: Kuroo/Sawamura
Kuroo doesn’t fall in love hard and fast like many others do – he falls slowly, and very very softly. Most of the times he doesn’t even realise he’s in love with someone until it’s too late.
(Kuroo is the dumbest man alive and I've never related to someone so hard in my life. God help me.)
You like me. by roseknight
Ship: Daishou/Kuroo
Kuroo nearly lived a Daishou-free life, and sometimes he looked back and wondered how much better and how much worse that would've been.
(I didn't even know who Daishou was until I read this fic and now I can't unsee the potential this ship has. I'm a ruined woman and I regret NOTHING.)
Kings of the Road, Kings of the Universe by EzzyDean
Eight magical captains, one bus, an entire summer (and country) waiting for them.
What could possibly go wrong?
(The magic of friendship meets the magic of a summer road trip meets pure magic.)
(CAPTAIN SQUAD IS THE BEST SQUAD SOMEBODY PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD SEND ME SOME CAPTAIN SQUAD FICS I AM SO IN LOVE WITH THIS SQUAD IT'S A PROBLEM AAAAHHHHHH!)
宿縁 : See You Soon by MissKiraBlue
Ship: Oikawa/Kageyama
Upon arriving at the train station of death, an impure soul is granted a second chance at life against his will. Reincarnating into the body of Kageyama Tobio, a 15-year-old boy who recently committed suicide. Tobio's soul will depart at death and the soul needs to slip in to replace it. If the soul's reformation succeeds, he’ll reenter the cycle of rebirth and regain the right to be reborn. He will have three months to accomplish this task.
“Even though you had enough of life,” the soul whispered into the void of the room, “you were still afraid to hurt your hands, Tobio.”
Afraid of giving himself a scar, if he survived.
He touched his pulse and grasped life and couldn’t help but pity Kageyama Tobio.
"You wanted to die and now I’m here making you live again," he whispered into the night.
(I'm not even exaggerating when I say out of all the fics in this entire goddamn, too long list, this is the fic I'm anticipating and heart eyeing the most. It's only starting, but I already cried on chapter fucking 2, the power of this fic, holy shit. The author also wrote the hq time loop Every Tomorrows series, which I have an undying love for and am full on praying for the day it updates, so you KNOW this fic will be just as good. (Anybody who hasn't read this series, where the hell have you been?? Read it!!) Just, everything about this fic hurts me and something in my chest just aches when I read this fic. Go into it blind with an open heart and I swear to you, it's going to change your life. I'm already calling it. Seriously though, please please read!)
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[Crossover]
Learning to Fly by Asteroid_Duck (JustThatOneGirl1815)
Fandoms: Boku no Hero Academia, Naruto
The number three hero is a walking (well, flying) contradiction in every sense of the word. This includes his teaching skills. Why had Tokoyami agreed to this internship again? Oh right. He’d thought he was actually going to learn something. …….remind him to never be so optimistic again. . . . OR, Kakashi Hatake is reincarnated as the pro hero, Hawks. Tokoyami Fumikage suffers as a result.
(The reincarnation fic I never thought I needed and it's so good!! I've never really paid attention to Tokoyami and this fic sent me headfirst into loving him. Their dynamic is so interesting and I just love how their relationship develops. Also, Kakashi trolling the poor kid made me cackle, it's great! Definitely recommend it!)
Si Vis Pacem by athenoot
Fandoms: Boku no Hero Academia, John Wick
Everything has a price. That's what John has always known and will forever remember, even in death.
Which is pretty ironic considering his current circumstance.
Instead of a grown, scarred, weary body belonging to a man as cruel and broken as him, he's inhabiting a younger, smaller, unblemished one belonging to a child with strangely colored hair, and is living in what seems to be a superhuman society.
Well. May it never be said that John isn't a strategist. He can live with this. Maybe.
(Somewhere out there in the universe, he's certain he could hear the laughter of his enemies from beyond the grave.)
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Or: John Wick is reincarnated as Midoriya Izuku. The world should probably watch its back.
(This should be one of the crackiest fics I've read in a while, but it's taken so seriously and I'm so HERE FOR THIS. John Wick being John Wick in a world of quirks and heroes is the GREATEST, honestly, he's so badass. Bakugou, I feel for you, you must be so fucking confused lol. Bakugou trying his best to be a good friend is one of the best things about this fic. Trust me, this fic will make your day, promise!)
A Girl's Mind is a Dangerous Place by clenastia
Fandoms: Naruto, Fairy Tail
Natsu wakes up in Sakura's body. It only gets worse from there. Also known as: In Which Natsu has No Idea what to do with Boobs.
(I binged this in two fucking days, I couldn't put it down. This fic reminded me why I liked fairy tail when I was younger and why Natsu is honestly such a great protagonist, god. And the fic does that thing, you know, the Thing where when two worlds collide, the characters struggle to acclimate and adapt to a completely another world with different rules and mindsets against their own. This fic is seriously one of the best when it comes to that aspect, it's incredible. I am going absolutely feral over here for this fic to update, I'm waiting in the wings, ready to pounce like a tiger, all the metaphors man. For the love of god, read this fic.)
Give me a landscape made of obstacles by Melise
Fandoms: Naruto, Natsume's Book of Friends
Kakashi Hatake isn’t who he says he is.
Because the truth is that he’s actually a youkai in disguise, a wolf spirit named Madara who stumbled across the Hatake clan during the Warring States Period. Intrigued by the shinobi he saw, he’d proposed a temporary alliance in which he would offer the clan protection in exchange for their teachings.
Decades later, Madara is surprised to find himself inadvertently summoned to Konoha by the last living member of the Hatake clan. Sakumo Hatake, who is mourning the recent deaths of his wife and stillborn child, doesn’t want to be alone anymore. So with his permission, Madara takes the place of Sakumo’s deceased son in order to watch over the last Hatake.
(Fusion in which the youkai of Natsume’s Book of Friends all exist in the Naruto world. No knowledge of Natsume’s Book of Friends required).
(Before this fic, I only had a very vague idea of what Natsume's Book of Friends was, and honestly, I still don't know much about it. But I didn't really need to know to get into this fic. I love the worldbuilding and the relationships Kakashi forms, both supernatural and mortal. I love how Kakashi's inhumane ways affect others around him, whether to stress them out or become used to the strange. You can go straight into this fic without knowing anything and absolutely still have a fantastic time. I definitely recommend this so please read!)
#Fanfiction#AO3#Fic Rec#Fic Rec List#Naruto#Harry Potter#Boku no Hero Academia#Stranger Things#Knives Out#Haikyuu!!#Crossover#John Wick#Fairy Tail#Natsume's Book of Friends
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MCU timeline, if they actually cared about the characters as much as we do:
Phase 1 (setting up the universe)
- Iron Man - Incredible Hulk (+ Bruce’s DID is included and well represented, Hulk is not shown as a monster which cannot control himself so much he hurts everybody around including Betty, in fact he is shown to avoid hurting anybody who isn’t actively shooting at him, Dr Samson and Rick Jones are a must for this origin story, post credit can stay the same) - Hawkeye (includes: his childhood with an abusive father, his brother Bradley, his past in the circus so basically his origin story, his deafness, him being conscripted by SHIELD, and post credit scene with him choosing not to kill Natasha) - Black Widow (includes: her childhood in the Red Room, the fall of USSR and change in Russian politics, KGB being dissolved, Natasha’s breaking of her programming, her leaving the Red Room thanks to meeting Hawkeye, the assassination of Dreykov’s daughter, What Happened in Bucharest, Natasha joining SHIELD, and post credit scene with her taking place of the PA which was supposed to apply to Stark Industries) - Iron Man 2 (+ more info about Howard’s abuse of Tony, Natasha is there, but it’s not her first appearance, and also she isn’t shown as if she knew she was in a movie) - Thor - Captain America: The First Avenger (I think that his stupid behavior in CW is completely set up by his origin story, so I wouldn’t change anything if we wanna have that conflict with him being more concerned about Bucky than literally anything else going on) - Captain Marvel (because her existence makes Fury think about Avengers and explains why Fury wanted to create them in the first place, also action happens mostly on Earth) - Avengers (+ Jane Foster and Darcy are part of the science team and greatly contribute to the plot as scientists, because I am fed up with women being sidelined)
And because Avengers has a post credit with Thanos we should get some movies in space now related to Thanos first, before Iron Man 3.
Phase 2 (we learn about the ultimate badguy)
- Guardians of the Galaxy - Thor: The Dark World (but hopefully better written, + no damselling of Jane) - War Machine (Rhodey’s only movie, Tony is busy doing whatever) - Hawkeye 2 (how Clint dealt with everything which happened during Avengers, how SHIELD agents treated him, introducing his family?, maybe bringing back Barney and showing his relationship with Mockingbird and stuff like those) - Iron Man 3 (without the ableist meta message that all disabled people just wait to become murder machines, but still introducing Extremis) - Black Widow 2 (could be the same story as we got in 2021, introducing Yelena Belova) - Quicksilver and Scarlet Witch (includes: their childhood, how their parents died (Yugoslavia being bombed by NATO, but I doubt Hollywood would ever wanna say it out loud), them growing in orphanage, possibly attending university (universities for citizens in Serbia are free and because Sokovia is based on Serbia, and it is a slavic country we can assume they have that system as well, and there are also social support programs available from both the government and possibly the university as well), the difficulties of a life in which they have to cover their costs of living themselves, because they have no parents, American army stationing in Sokovia, twins getting radicalized, protesting against foreign influences in their country and joining Hydra, experimentation, if they were trained by Hydra to use their powers or not and how were they trained, Sokovia being shown to be normal country instead of breaking apart state which Americans see each time they think about it) - Falcon (Sam’s origin story, his mission in Afghanistan and stuff - I don’t know his origin story, so I dunno what to say here) - Captain America: The Winter Soldier - TV show about the consequences of the movie above. Possibly something akin to Agents of Shield. What happened to the agents, how world reacted to Natasha’s “fuck you”. - Ant-Man (introducing Hank Pym) - Avengers: Age of Ultron (Ultron is Hank Pym’s like in the comics, but in some versions of this Tony helped or provided tech so he still wpuld feel quilty afterwards, + no dying Pietro)
Phase 3 (everything gets complicated, but they prevail)
- Incredible Hulk 2 (what happened to Bruce and Hulk and how they dealt with the idea that Steve literally had his well-being in his ass by inviting Wanda and Pietro to the team, what is going on with Thaddeus Ross and Betty Ross, we meet Jennifer Walters) - Black Panther (different one than the one we got, introduces T'Challa and his family) - Spider-Man: Homecoming (could be earlier, just after Avengers, but *shrugs* this story is written in such a way it is better after Iron Man 3 and Age of Ultron) - Captain Marvel 2 (basically setting up why she didn’t participate in Civil War, my idea was to depower her, but not take her powers away, so she could have some more down to earth stories instead of stories set in space, maybe even explore her alcoholism that way) - Quicksilver and Scarlet Witch 2 (deradicalisation, becoming heroes) - Captain America: Civil War (Accords are better explained, Matt Murdock or Jennifer Walters show up to do exactly that, RAFT is explained as American prison not related to the UN, Steve this time has valid concerns about the Accords, but he still goes ape shit over Bucky, still lies to Tony about his family, because those traits were all set in his origin movie) - The Wasp (Hope’s origin story) - Hawkeye 3 or Hawkeye TV series - Black Widow 3 (something something about Ross hunting her, but Red Room was already taken down, so different story is here instead) - Ant-Man 2 (Wasp is here too, but this is Scott’s movie, previous Ant-Man and The Wasp) - Black Panther 2 (about Kilmonger and T'Challa’s scuffle for the throne) - Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 (didn’t know where to put it, because it is mostly unrelated to any other movies with this story about Ego, but it develops Nebula more, so let’s be here) - Doctor Strange - Thor: Ragnarok (I am not opposed to Planet Hulk, but I am more inclined to not put Bruce into a movie which is supposed to be about Thor and Loki so… more time for Brunhilde) - The Winter Soldier (solo Winter Soldier movie) - Avengers Infinity War/Endgame (it makes no sense to make two movies if we can have one, the snap was used as a plot device more than actual defeat of the Avengers, so it can last less than 5 years and also no time travel which then you have to explain why TVA didn’t put everybody in jail for that, Tony doesn’t die and Carol and some other powerful people (LIKE HULK, Hulk is NOT less powerful than Thanos or fearful or something) take down Thanos instead and Tony finally retires and is left alone by everybody goddammit)
Phase 4 (new era, some heroes retire, others take their place, while different ones just get the grip of whom they truly were all along, and also we get a new ultimate bad guy and possibly set a stage for his defeat) <- this one not really well set up, because we don’t know most of the movies and TV shows which appear in this phase so dunno how to set them.
- Spider-Man: Far From Home - Photon (origin story of Monica Rambeau) - War Machine 2 - WandaVision (or Quicksilver and Scarlet Witch 3, adjusted, so it would not repeat some facts and would only remind about the most important stuff. Also, Pietro lives in this timeline so no Bohner guy lol, he is just insufferable brother-in-law to Vision, and weird uncle to kids) - The Falcon and The Winter Soldier (but with Steve who didn’t go back in time, because there was no going back in time in this timeline, he just finally is learning what accountability is and has to forfeit his shield, because it’s time to retire) - Falcon 2 - Winter Soldier 2 - The Wasp 2 - Loki TV series (Loki survives Thanos and is taken by the TVA, it basically doesn’t force the story to make him quickly develop feelings in the first episode and bypasses that issue, + more Loki Variants, all genderluid and presenting in various ways in the show) - Incredible Hulk 3 (Bruce and Hulk finally start communicating and Hulk becomes gradually smarter, and we meet Bruce’s another alter Grey Hulk and the circus with getting along starts all over again, because Grey Hulk hates Green Hulk xD, is setting up She-Hulk) - Shang-Chi and the Legend of Ten Rings - What If…? TV show - Ms Marvel TV show - Eternals (feels like should be in different phase) - Spider-Man: No Way Home - Doctor Strange: In the Multiverse of Madness - Thor: Love and Thunder (about Mighty Thor - Jane) - Black Panther: Wakanda Forever (about Shuri?) - The Marvels (Captain Marvel 3 basically) - Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quntamania (setting mutiple Kaangs I suppose) - Moonknight TV show - She-Hulk TV show - Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3 - Blade (feels like should be in different phase) - Fantastic Four - Avengers (in which they fight Kaang?)
I was going with the idea that every superhero should get at least 3 movies ONLY about them. As of now, I managed to put 3 only for a few, and some were swapped for TV shows instead to fill the place and better show the character and what they’re up to, because TV shows have more hours than movies.
I know there are supposed to be TV shows for Armor Wars, Iron Heart and Secret Wars, but I dunno when, so no idea where to put them.
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I know this is not the case, I mean until this point the information we have got from the series is that Alder may be responsible for the surge of the spree but not directly. Yet isn't it a little bit fucked up that in someway Alder ( or the witches in general) needs the spree and the caramilla to justify their existence, like if they don't exist, if there is not a tangible enemy, witches are not necessary and sometimes I think that Alder plays a major game manipulating the perception of these enemies with the purpose to keep the army necessary, cause civilians are the true and biggest enemy of witches and maybe ALders the only one who knows exactly what happens when civilians turn against witches.
Oooof this is a loaded question! Let's see what people are thinking:
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Dan on our Discord: My first instinct is that isn't that the basic vibe of all major conflicts? Both in the MFS Universe and our own timeline? Armies only exist to 'protect' nations from other countries and vice versa, which only in turn creates more conflict in its own fucked, self-sufficient cycle.
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@Jalehh: Yes, Alder and her actions in Liberia (forcing dodgers to conscript, them resisting, Alder deploying Sgt. Nicte Batan's new work and making surrendered people kill themselves) seem directly responsible for the formation of the Spree to me.
It also seems like America in this 'verse still has colonies (the showrunner called the conflict in Liberia a colonial war) and is a major player in world politics with India and China being at different stages of rivalry. Even if there aren't open wars among nations, and no asymmetrical conflicts like with the Spree, a well-maintained military will help to secure a powerful position on the world stage... plus you never know who wants to be the next bully on the world stage. Si vis pacem, para bellum. Pretty sure there would be enough to do for witches... even if it's 'just' training exercises or civil aid works done by the military or some 'good' old gunboat diplomacy.
Of course, it would be nice to prepare for peace and maybe transform the witch army into a peace or technical relief corps. But, being the Army/Armed Forces seems to have given at least some witches quite some power - Alder and Petra Bellweather come to mind and with the past they had (Burning Times) - and anti-witch sentiments still very widely accepted, I understand why they would be afraid to give that up. Plus, witches in the army are organized and no longer scattered all over the land... which makes them a bigger target, but also allows for a strength and unity that would otherwise be lost.
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@baby-horse: Same coin but different side - I wonder if the civilians want to keep the army around, purely because it puts (almost) all the witches in one spot; easily handled. I think it's mutually beneficial, but not necessarily for the obvious reasons.
That kind of answers the question as to why the civilians don't just abolish forced constriction for witches, since they're so upset about their 'daughters' being taken. Because the obvious answer to "not our daughters" is to just get rid of that law. But once you do that, then witches would be in the community, which is Bad News.
I guess the question of 'what happens when the world discovers they no longer need witches' is being answered this season. Spoiler alert = it's not good for witches.
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@crazyintheeast: Personally, I was wondering about a different direction. If civilians would actually be in favor of witches. We know little about the general attitude of people. Yes of course there is the Camarilla and we know of others bigots like the guy who got into Tally's face. But we have also seen another side. The man who proudly gave Tally his ticket, the women who came to Raelle for healing and were extremely grateful, the large parades in honor of witches. Even with the protest against them I felt that only some of them were actual bigots while the others merely hated the army and didn't want their daughters enslaves.
I would find it really interesting if a significant portion of the civilian populace is actually in favor of witch liberation. Some out of moral principle because they oppose slavery but also many out of purely practical reasons. Imagine if instead of being limited to the military they had Fixers in every hospital who could save countless lives. We already know that witches assist in disaster areas but they could do even more if allowed. Witches actually being a part of society instead of being isolated in the military could be something that many want.
But also, I was left with the impression that China and not Spree are the main adversary and not all nations are in The Hague. I am not exactly sure, but I always saw Spree as merely assisting local witches in various countries rather than leading themselves. Similar to how CIA would train various guerrilla fighters and try to destabilize countries.
But I could actually see a full-blown civil war emerging. The current situation in the MFS strongly reminds of the historic situation of the Ottoman Empire where their slave army had become so powerful that they had serious influence on all rulers. And when new technology emerged the Sultan used the new tactics to attack his salve army and eliminate it.
Although, considering the existence of the Hague, this may even grow into a World War if Wade is removed from Alder’s influence and Silver becomes president. Maybe he’ll try to use the Camarilla and other troops to eliminate US witches? And without nukes to go full MAD this could be a massive war that has been building for a long time.
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Thank you for the ask! As always, if you would like to join the conversations on our Discord, please shoot us a DM for an invite!
#sarah alder#nicte batan#VP Silver#motherland fort salem#motherland: fort salem#mfs theories#mfsri nerds answer#mfsri#mfs research institute
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Something Worth Celebrating
Rating: General Audiences (basically GenFic)
Summary: Dark admits he sort of, kind of has a birthday. And then he sort of, kind of asks you to throw him a party.
I know. Pinch me, I must be dreaming.
(Basically a purely indulgent fic where Dark gets to be happy for 0.2 seconds. Yes, it's late, please forgive me, Mr. Darkiplier sir.)
(second person POV, gender neutral reader)
Word Count: 4906
Author’s Note: No warnings. Honestly just tooth-rotting tenderness. This is a super-late birthday 'present' for our favorite spooky ego that I just couldn't get out of my head. Also posted to AO3!
The thought strikes you in the midst of your weekly scan of Mark’s content. While Dark makes sure to check his uploads and social media presence moment-to-moment, you often join his weekly wrap-up review sessions as a second, fresh set of eyes. It’s usually a silent and uneventful affair, with Dark sitting at his desk and you to one side of it, both focused on the week’s batch of content as it projects on the opposite wall. Hooking up the projector was easier than hunching over Dark’s laptop, the two of you bunched together around the screen, and it usually meant you could catch and examine any irregularities with greater accuracy. Not that there had been any for months. Mark’s content has become suspiciously unsuspicious, with no odd shot changes in the middle of playthroughs, no sideways comments in food reviews… and so your mind has started wandering during your viewings.
It’s not that his content is boring. But it’s hard to enjoy Mark’s lighthearted commentary, really, knowing the man for what he is: a manipulative, body-snatching, undead creature bent on conquering the hearts and minds of the world. That kind of imposing terror makes it hard to kick back and enjoy him goofing through a new horror game.
And, yet, despite that same terror, it’s difficult to stay fully focused on the task at hand. Maybe it’s the lack of weirdness lulling you into being unobservant - maybe that’s Mark’s goal. Regardless, he makes a jokey comment, surprised by a new onslaught of enemies so soon after receiving a new weapon - “What, is it my birthday?” - and though he proceeds to casually mow down a fresh flood of zombies, your mind is nowhere near his running monologue. No, you’re off on a tangent of wonderings - When exactly is his birthday, anyway? Is it soon? Do the egos share his, or do they have their own, if they know it? When would they celebrate it, anyway? Did Mark build in birthdays for them when he summoned them up, or was it whatever day they were formed from some strange, shadowy process you still don’t know the specifics of? It’s a strange and vaguely sad thing to ponder, your mouth turning down at the corners as you roll it around in your mind. To your side, Dark sighs softly, reaching out to pause the current video. Mark’s face freezes in an unflattering expression, and you turn to look at the entity.
“What, think of something?”
“No,” he demurs, scrubbing the video back. “But you are distracted. What do you last remember?” He doesn’t sound annoyed, which is a little surprising. Where a few months ago he would have bitten off a sharp comment about your wandering attention, he just gives you a mild look when you don’t immediately respond, hands hovering at his computer. It speaks to how routine this has become for you both, how each of you has grown accustomed to the other - the ringing of his aura barely registers for you now, although you were certain when you arrived that investing in a lifetime supply of ibuprofen was a basic requirement for working in close proximity to Dark for any extended period of time.
That’s when the thought strikes you - you meandering thoughts crystallizing around his presence, centering on him. You have to wonder how much of your thought process Dark actually heard, if your idle thoughts are loud enough for him to pick up. But seeing as he’s not making any attempt to immediately answer, nor chide you for thinking about such unimportant things, the thought, as a question, easily tumbles out between you.
“Do you have a birthday?”
He immediately furrows his brow, blinking in surprise. “What?”
“I said, do you have a birthday?” you repeat, committing to this line of questioning. You go so far as to turn slightly in your chair to look at him better, attention fully directed at him. Dark sighs and turns back to the computer, picking a spot in the video a couple of minutes ago, certainly farther back than necessary.
“I heard what you said,” he clarifies. “I am attempting to understand what could have possibly brought that up.”
“He said something about his birthday. It just got me thinking, that’s all.” Dark pauses, squinting his eyes ever so slightly at the screen. His cursor hovers over the playback bar, obviously considering his next move. You pause with him, then a smile tugs at your mouth. “You missed that, didn’t you.”
“I did not. It was merely an inane comment, so I did not take note of it.” He’s a little too indignant, too quick with that response, and it makes you laugh. He shoots you a patented glare, although it carries very little true malice. “When did he say that.”
“A couple minutes forward, it’s right after he gets that new gun.” Dark hums in response, clearly still miffed at having been successfully teased, but in a good-natured sort of way. You watch him scrub for the right spot, lulling back into a comfortable silence for a few moments before you remember what brought all this up and press on. “So, do you?”
“Do I what?”
“Don’t be obtuse, come on. Do you have a birthday?”
“They had birthdays,” he remarks. You recall them, or, at least, a picture of them, the only one you’ve seen that isn’t a staged portrait. You like it better than the stiff, properly posed photographs Dark hesitantly showed you once, when he had finally explained his origins to you. In the one you preferred to remember, a well-dressed woman and man hug each other close as they smile warmly into the camera. It’s some holiday, or just an excuse to get together - there are garlands blurred in the background - and the woman is holding a fancy-looking drink in the hand that isn’t wrapped around behind her brother, tugging him into frame. He looks a bit put-upon, smiling almost embarrassedly as if the woman has cajoled him in front of the cameraperson into taking a picture with her. But his expression, for all it implies, is still warm. His body curls close to his sister, his hold on her obviously affectionate. The woman is beaming like she’s won, squeezing her brother close as her cheeks apple, her painted lips curled in such pride. Her eyes dance, catching the light of the camera’s flash. They look comfortable, happy, beautiful. Full of life. The woman’s smile had pulled one out of you, when you saw it.
Dark’s explanation of how he had come to be makes the memory all the sadder, the melancholia curling around your throat even as you remember it now.
“I, on the other hand, was not born,” he explains, and for a moment you begin to regret bringing it up. But the shadow-bathed man doesn’t seem bothered, his tone matter-of-fact, simple. You know it pains him still, you saw the look on his face as he described how he had come to be, how his aura had raged around him like he was going to pull apart. How their faces had appeared in agonized red and blue flashes behind him - now that you knew what you were looking for, you could see them as themselves, not just as Dark.
Which makes the fact he can say something that directly referential without threatening to rip through existence sort of comforting. Is he just comfortable with you, now, knowing that you know? Whatever it is, you decide it’s a good thing, and settle back in your chair. “Well, sure, not as such, but… do you celebrate theirs?” you ask, as gently as you can.
“I do not.” Dark finds the proper place in the video, advancing to it.
“So you don’t celebrate you… coming into being, on any particular day?”
“I do not.” You squint slightly.
“You don’t,” you repeat. Dark sighs once more, bringing a hand to his brow in the way he does when Wilford is being particularly taxing.
“No. I do not. But the… fans. Do.” It’s an answer given through gritted teeth - the man finds the celebration of him and his many appearances in Mark’s work frustrating, to put it simply. Of course, he’s completely committed to his role as the villain the actor dreamed of, and won’t lie and say he doesn’t find it utterly amusing how Mark’s own fans seem to like him more than the actor himself. But all that is tinged with the truth of his conscription into this role, the indignity of being painted as the wicked mirror image of the man who took everything from him. It is particularly insulting, particularly painful. So to have some false version of him celebrated and adored, is…
Well, to use his words: Disgusting.
You would go for complicated, instead. It does feels strange to have them celebrate a fictionalized version of the entity next to you, given the reality of the situation, but it’s not like you can fault them for what they don’t know. They’re caught up in Mark’s game - it isn’t their fault. Still, you aren’t really surprised they found a whole day to put aside for the man.
“What day did they pick?”
“Hm?” Dark seems caught up in some internal brooding, set off by the memories of the fanart he’s seen. You prod again.
“What day is it? That they made your ‘birthday’?”
He pauses a moment, considering. You can tell he knows, he’s just debating whether or not to tell you. Whether or not this will have unintended consequences. “June 19th. It was the first time Mark posted something… strange enough to be counted as my first ‘appearance.’ So it is my birthday, by their reckoning.” He pauses again. “I suppose it is as good a day as any. Although I do not understand it - why would someone want to celebrate my existence?”
His tone takes this bitter, harsh edge, and you instinctively want to cringe against it. But you also know how Dark hates you trying to be delicate with him. It’s better to be honest, to know his reactions are not for you, but for his situation. For Mark. So you suppress the desire to turn away from it, instead reaching across the bit of desk between you to touch his arm. He doesn’t react, apart from flicking his eyes to rest on your hand. Touching him like this, yours fades to take on the same black-and-white cast as his own.
“For what it’s worth, I’d want to celebrate it. I’m glad you’re here.” You squeeze him very gently, as if trying to impress that more fully into his mind. “And… they don’t really know you, but, I mean. I think they’d like you even more, want to celebrate you more, if they did.”
Dark is silent, gaze falling to a whorl of wood in his polished desk as he considers your words. He doesn’t immediately reply and you take your hand away, not wanting to be overly touchy-feely about the whole thing. Or, at least, you don’t want to be if that’s not what Dark wants. You’d be the first to console him, if you could, but it’s hard to get a read on what might help the man most. He lives in his head, unaccustomed to sharing much with the other egos, let alone someone who hasn’t directly been through what they have. Your position on the outside imposes a distance that even having worked so closely with him for so long hasn’t yet bridged. Still, you leave that door open for him whenever you gracefully can, whenever it doesn’t feel like you’re opening it to force him through.
You try show him he can walk through whenever he likes. If he likes.
The man shifts slightly, reaching out to adjust a small pile of papers. He puts them to rights, even though they’re already perfectly in line with each other. When he finally speaks, his voice is almost covered by its own deep echo.
“If I am honest, I meant more… why would they celebrate the man they see, the ‘Darkiplier’ in his works? He is not a good man, by any means. He tells the truth, Mark’s confidence in himself sees to that. But they do not know it. He seems to seek to trap the audience through lies, manipulation… I simply do not understand the appeal.” You feel a little caught out, wondering if you jumped a bit too eagerly on his statement as a chance to comfort him. “However…”
He stops, realizing he’s run out of papers to arrange, things to fidget with. Folding his colorless hands in front of him, he finally and intentionally turns to look your way. It’s a slow, steady motion, heavy with purpose. When you meet his intensely contrasted eyes, they fall gently on you. His expression is open, almost bare. Devoid of any bitterness, frustration - his usual armor.
“...it is incredibly kind of you to say that. About me. I. I sincerely appreciate it.”
The hesitancy in his voice, yet how honestly he continues on, intent on telling you this… It’s enough to break your heart. You give him a tender smile.
“You’re not exactly that man in those videos, Dark. Not the way he has you play it, know you well enough to tell that… But even if you were, you have reason enough for it, I’d wager.”
That gets you a wry smile from the man. “Enough reason to pull ourselves back from the dead?”
You laugh, softly. “Yeah, something like that.” At your mirth, the lines of his body begin to relax, and he eases back into his seat somewhat. It’s a rare sight, Dark letting himself relax, be still for a moment. Even his aura, ever-roiling, merely seems to ebb and flow around him in gentle pulses. His mouth stays gently turned up as he looks at nothing in particular, gaze easy on some middle distance. You can tell he’s thinking, even at minor peace like this, but has no real intention to speak again. Sensing the Big Heart-To-Heart Moment™ has passed, you sigh and look back over your sparse notes. “Should we get back to it, though? I totally derailed us.”
Dark pauses a bit longer in the moment before he idly waves a hand and reaches out to close the lid of his computer. “There is nothing interesting this week, really. I think we can call it there, unless you are especially invested in head-exploding physics.” You pull a face.
“Not particularly. I can finish going over it later, anyway. Just in case.” You stretch and twist in your chair with a sigh. “Think I’ll make some coffee - can I get you a cup?”
“Are you going to use the cafetiere?”
“No, I thought the Mr. Coffee would be better. Really gets it nice and watery, just like you like.” Dark scrunches up his nose in the most totally undignified way, and god that makes you belly-laugh, bending slightly over the desk to support yourself. It breaks him, getting a real smile to curl over his face. He can be such a goofball, when he wants to be. “Of course I was gonna use the cafetiere. Who do you take me for?”
“I have to check, I have had many a disappointing cup after agreeing too eagerly. But yes, I will take one, if it isn’t too much trouble.”
“None at all,” you hum, coming down from your laughing fit. You make your way out of his office but before you can turn the corner, Dark calls your name, stopping you in the doorway. You look back to him, and he seems… at ease. His hands are folded across his middle, he’s resting back in his desk chair. The ghost of a smile is still on his face. You try to bottle that moment, preserve it mentally. “Yeah?”
“Thank you. Again. And…” He hesitates for a beat, making some decision. “If you or the others would like to do something. On the day. My… sort-of birthday… I would not be opposed.”
You force your jaw to stay in place and not hit the floor. Wilford will go ballistic. You don’t know if the mustachioed ego will be able to handle the thought of throwing Dark a real birthday party - he might just explode in a haze of confetti and glitter stars. Blinking, you right yourself, finding your head nodding before you even know what it’s doing.
“I. Y-Yeah! Sure, we. We could definitely do that. Do… something.” Dark just smiles a little more fully, exhaling a laugh. “I’ll. I’ll talk to them about it.”
Holy shit.
“Wonderful. It will be nice to have a reason to have a proper party. Something to celebrate. Don’t you think?” You’re nodding again, agreeing wholeheartedly, but dazedly, too. You don’t realize you’re just standing there sort of staring until Dark tilts his head thoughtfully to one side. “Is… coffee still happening?”
“Huh?” You remember. “Oh. Oh! Shi- I mean, shoot. I mean. Yes. Yeah. I. Coffee, yes. I’m… gonna do that.”
As you beat a hasty and red-faced retreat to the kitchen, bursting with ideas, you can just make out the man giving the faintest, echoing chuckle.
---
You don’t think you’ve ever felt such pure excitement in the Manor before. The air is practically buzzing with pure, unbridled energy as you approach Dark’s office door. Downstairs, you can hear the egos making final preparations underneath Wilford’s speaking in an overly dramatic tone, giving some kind of grand speech. Likely a rallying of the troops into being on their best behavior for their de facto leader. You can’t help a smile and a shake of your head - maybe he’d take his own advice tonight.
Either way, everything is ready, so you rap on the birthday boy’s outer office door. He’d graciously locked himself away after retrieving his morning coffee so you would all have the space to prepare. Of course, he hadn’t escaped early-morning birthday wishes from you and the Host, nor a fresh-cut bouquet of flowers you two had collected for him. You’d even carried them up to his office for him, just so he wouldn’t have to touch them himself and risk draining their color. The memory of how sort of bashful he’d looked, the you really shouldn’t have energy that had rolled off him as he directed you to set them on his desk - it makes you grin in anticipation for this evening as he calls for you to enter, now.
He’s sitting by the fireplace, apparently killing time with a book which he looks up from as you enter. An inquiring look pulls his brow. “All prepared?”
“Oh yes. Your party awaits you, sir.” Dark huffs a laugh and rises, setting his book aside. He’s dressed a bit differently, still in slacks and a tie but with the addition of a waistcoat closely fit over his dress shirt, which is slightly rolled up over his forearms. Then he begins to fix them, going for his jacket, and you have to interject. “Are you really going to wear a full suit to your party?”
Dark stops, looking confused. And a little concerned. “I. Was intending to, yes.”
Oops. “I mean, you always wear a suit,” you chide as gently as you can. “They look nice, but the whole point is celebrating, relaxing a little? Besides, you look nice just like that.” Dark pauses, casting a look over himself. He absently adjusts his waistcoat, and you notice a thin chain connected to one of the buttons loops into one pocket. Has he always had a pocket watch?
“You are certain it is not too… casual.” He almost sounds worried, the poor thing. You give him a reassuring smile as you approach, picking up his jacket and folding it with care before hanging it over your arm.
“I’ll bring it down, but I think you’ll be more comfortable like that. Though you aren’t totally dressed, yet.” The man gives you an utterly baffled look, and you grin in response, bringing out a brightly colored party hat. His look sours immediately.
“Absolutely not.”
“Oh, come on.”
“No. I am already being made to go down undressed, I will not go with bells on.”
Sometimes you forget he’s just a grumpy grandpa. You pull out the big guns. “Well… we’re all wearing them,” you hum, your own firmly in place. “Besides, Wilford insisted. And he’s the Decoration Czar. Self-proclaimed, but he rules with an iron fist.” Dark makes a valiant effort to hold onto his resolve, but it weakens in the face of you invoking the mustachioed man. With a soft, amorphous grumble, he pulls the elastic band of the hat under his chin.
Now that you understand a little more about how Dark and Wilford had come to be, their bond makes a lot more sense, even for all Dark’s frustrated looks shot the more light-hearted man’s way in the midst of meetings. Even before you knew the depth of their bond, Dark had always seemed surprisingly willing to go along with Wilford’s more doable requests, less inclined to irritatedly snip at him for his foolishness. As Dark adjusts his party hat in a nearby mirror (making sure his well-coiffed hair isn’t too disturbed by his headwear), you’re glad that, although Wilford may not fully be aware of it, the two of them have each other.
He drops his hands with a sigh. “I look ridiculous.” He’s positioned the cone-shaped hat directly pointing up in the middle of his head, and. Well. It looks way too proper, but very Dark all at once. You chuckle, coming close to help.
“You should see the den. It’s a wreck,” you tease, reaching for his hat, giving the man enough time to wave you off. But he doesn’t, just watching you in the mirror as you adjust it (careful of his curls) to a more jaunty angle. His aura has already absorbed the color from it, but it looks party-appropriate. More importantly, Dark seems a bit more at ease as he gets used to how it looks. You wonder if he’s ever worn a party hat in his life. “There, much better.”
“Hm. Then I suppose I am ready.”
“As you’ll ever be. C’mon, they’re all waiting.” When he turns from the mirror, you playfully offer him your arm. You think you’ll get an eyeroll, a dismissive but amused huff at best. You aren’t anticipating him looping his arm in yours and giving you this little smile that warms his eyes and has you pulling up short. He chuckles somewhat at your reaction, your lack of movement.
“I thought I was being escorted.”
“Uh. You. You are, oh, you definitely are, hold on to your socks, you’re about to experience the best escorting of your life.” Dark’s free hand comes up to help suppress the grin that threatens to split his face as you lead him from the office and down to the almost overwhelmingly decorated den. While the room is comfortably illuminated by a variety of the Manor’s most colorful lamps, the light is somewhat low and catches on the sparkling garlands heavily draped on the walls. Matching balloons bob at varying intervals and a rousing cheer goes up as you and Dark enter, a flood of grins turning your way. Music cuts on - something upbeat and jazzy - and the flock of egos quickly descends on the object of celebration, Wilford leading the charge and pressing a drink into the man’s hand after a massive bear hug. You release Dark’s arm to let the crowd of other egos at him, covering him in birthday wishes and affectionate pats on the back (their boldness inspired by Wilford, no doubt), before eagerly showing off all their preparations.
While Yancy explains the variety of possible games he’s worked up, getting a horribly wry grin out of the shadowy man at his creation of ‘pin the cravat on the Actor,’ you step back a bit to make sure Dark’s suit jacket is safely out of the way of the night’s oncoming revelry. Clearly, he’s already forgotten it, much to your pleasure. The bar is lined up with a few drink options, pre-made cocktails and bottles of wine opened to breathe, a number of elegantly arranged finger foods courtesy of resident chef Google Alpha. Carefully, you tuck Dark’s jacket under the bar in an empty shelf and before scooping up a drink of your own and tossing yourself back into the fray.
It goes a lot more smoothly than you had anticipated - everyone quickly falls into comfortable conversation, dipping into the snacks and games when it lulls. Wilford manages to keep his pants on despite threatening to provide a different kind of ‘entertainment’ at one point (and in spite of encouraging whistles from Bing and the Jims, who are quick to shove a camera in Wil’s direction). Further, Dark survives having ‘Happy Birthday’ sung to him, even blowing out the single candle in the middle of the complicated-looking tiramisu Alpha crafted.
It’s a rousing success, by all measures.
By the time you finally get a chance to sidle back up to Dark, the easy hum of the party has kicked up to a bit more of an excitable buzz as the jazz records have turned more and more swinging. Yandere and Illinois clearly know what they’re doing, beating a quick step around the open dance floor and grinning like bandits as Yancy does his best to help poor Eric get over the hurdle of not staring at your feet when you dance. The Manor feels more full than it usually does, with all of you crowded in the one room together, and you can see the warm, pure energy of it all is having a similar effect on Dark as it is on you - you don’t think you’ve ever seen him smile so much, small as they are.
Another thought hits you, even better than the one that prompted this whole affair. Grinning, you quickly gesture over the nearest Google. With the music like it is, it’s hard to speak over the ruckus, but you mime taking a picture and Green gets the idea, his glasses getting a particular sheen to them so you know he’s flipping through his interface. Once he gives you a thumbs up, you gently tug Dark down by the arm and gesture in Green’s direction. “Say ‘cheese,’” you prompt, and the shadowy man pulls a face.
“I don’t think-”
“Oh, just one, Dark, c’mon,” you poke. “He’s set up and everything.” With a sort of resigned huff, the man twists and gets his free arm around you, hand resting carefully on your back as you get yours around him, bringing him in closer.
Then, almost in your ear, you hear his very dour voice say, “Cheese...” and it breaks you. You’re busting out laughing, forcing yourself not to double over or spill your drink, and over the music and your own laughter, you can hear Dark chuckling, the subsequent snap of Green’s camera feature. The latter catches the most attention, the gathered egos coming running as soon as they realize pictures are happening.
Suddenly, everyone wants in, smushing in as close as they can get to you and Dark, bickering when elbows ‘accidentally’ find soft sides and someone worms in front of someone else, Green taking pictures all the while of the ensuing chaos. Dark’s aura is starting to rouse from its relatively peaceful state when you decide it’s gone on long enough. You quickly clap and break up the worst of the infighting, getting folks arranged as best you can. By the time you finish and most everyone is settled, Dark is wearing a very betrayed look and Wilford’s heavy arm, which is hugging him quite close to his side. With a playful shrug, you pick your way back to your spot.
“I thought you said one,” he grumps softly even as you both get your arms situated comfortably around the other.
“You believed me?” His eyes get a bit wide - you trick Dark? You trick him into photograph like the child? - but you turn away with a triumphant smile. “Green, set your glasses on the bar, get in!”
The android quickly obliges, setting the timer and sliding in among his copies as he counts you down. “Okay,” you call, “everyone say ‘Darkling!’”
The cacophony of laughter and broken-up attempts at the word is something you’ll never forget.
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Google sends you the photos the next morning, as the Manor collectively attempts to nurse minor to severe hangovers. Flipping through and marking the best ones to print and frame, you get to see the first one of the two of you.
In it, you’re hugging each other close, smiling warmly into the camera. There are garlands blurred in the background and you’re holding a fancy drink, tugging Dark into frame. That slightly embarrassed tinge is gone from his smile, but he still looks cajoled, still smiles as affectionately as he ever has. There’s no doubt he’s changed - the photo warps to try to capture his existence, red and blue fragments breaking up the image - but his expression is still warm. And you look so pleased with yourself, so amused, eyes dancing with success and joy.
Full of life.
It pulls a smile out of you.
#markiplier fanfiction#markiplier egos#darkiplier#ego fanfiction#happy birthday mister man light of my life#sorry it is late i was a pile of mental goop after exams#mad market pliers ramblings#fanfiction
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Soulmates: How John Met Sherlock...Again Chapter 6
Sorry I'm late this time, my friends. I had a busy weekend and have now fallen victim to the blasted cold that's been making its way through my family. I don't seem to have it as badly as my husband did, thank goodness. I'm going to post and answer some comments, so if you get one from me that sounds a little bizarre, it's the cold medicine. Lol.
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Monday morning is a busy one at 221B. Greg calls with a case in the middle of breakfast that has Sherlock scrambling to conscript Mrs. Hudson into taking Olive to school. He places his daughter’s lunch on the kitchen table next to her backpack and throws on his coat. Tipping down to kiss Olive on the cheek, he whispers I love you and have a good day. With that, Sherlock grabs a piece of toast and rushes from the room.
Olive sits at attention, the adrenaline of watching her father hurry around the room still in her veins, but it wanes as soon as she hears the click of the flat door. She lets out a long sigh and slouches a little into her chair. After the bits and pieces she had observed at Mycroft’s birthday party, she was even more curious about Gracie’s dad than when they left the park on Saturday. Something was off. John had absolutely no problem with her or her father until he met him, but had he only just met Sherlock two days ago? Olive isn’t so sure, especially after the way her uncles acted yesterday when she brought up the playdate refusal.
Olive raises her fork and chews on the eggs thoughtfully. Her father had been extremely irritated yesterday, in spite of trying to hide it, and Uncle Myc was definitely the cause. She has seen them argue before, of course. Perhaps heard is the better word. They avoid it when she is in the room and Uncle Greg usually distracts her somehow. Every so often, curiosity gets the better of her and she sneaks away from Greg to listen. Her father doesn’t seem to have ever gotten on well with his brother. Olive used to wonder if that is why she has no brothers or sisters, but dismissed the idea when she was five. She likes that it’s just her and her dad. The two of them against the world. Olive smiles to herself. Now she has Gracie too.
With that thought, Olive’s mind turns back to John. She had planned on cleverly asking Sherlock questions about him over breakfast and had even started working their conversation in that direction, but then Uncle Greg had phoned. To make matters worse, Mrs. Hudson will get her to school later than usual, effectively robbing her of all the time she has to talk to Gracie before classes start.
Olive grumbles around another bite, cursing the fact that she has to wait until lunch and that’s when inspiration strikes. Their class has library time at 10:30. She and Gracie can go to the computers, but search up John instead of books. Maybe if they know more about his past they can figure out how their fathers know each other because Olive is convinced they do.
Olive is just beginning to determine how best to communicate this to Gracie before library time when the door to the flat opens.
“Yoohoo,” calls Mrs. Hudson pleasantly, “Are you ready, dear? We really must be on our way.”
Olive glances at the clock to see how much time got away from her. Too much. She hops up and places her empty dishes in the sink. Pulling on her coat, she grabs her bag and lunch. Mrs. Hudson is smiling brightly as Olive runs down the hall.
“Good morning, Mrs. H,” Olive breathes as they hug one another tightly.
“Good morning, my darling,” Mrs. Hudson laughs warmly. “I take it Uncle Mycroft’s birthday was a success?”
“Yep,” Olive pops the P as she pulls away to look at her with twinkling eyes. “The cake was delicious. Thanks for the recipe.”
“My pleasure, dear,” Mrs. Hudson waves a hand as they pass through the door. She pulls it closed as Olive starts down the stairs. “And his presents?”
“He loved them,” Olive grins back at the older woman. “We pinned the donkey eight times and I won the most times.”
“Did you? That’s wonderful,” Mrs. Hudson chuckles to herself as she catches up with Olive in the foyer. “I’d give my good hip to see your uncle playing a party game. Must be Gregory’s influence.”
The mention of her other uncle jogs Olive’s memory and she turns, her face filling with glee, as she swings open the door to the building. Mrs. Hudson pauses in front of her, excitement already growing at just the look on Olive’s face.
“Uncle Greg asked Uncle Myc to marry him!” the girl all but shouts, throwing her arms in the air.
“Oh my goodness, that’s wonderful,” Mrs. Hudson clasps her hands together at her chin. “I always knew we’d find one for your uncle. Now we just need to find someone for your father.”
“Yeah!” Olive exclaims before she really considers Mrs. Hudson’s words. She frowns as they walk outside and down the steps to the pavement. They cross to the sleek black car waiting for them. The driver greets them as he opens the back door and they are soon on their way. All the while, one question rattles around in Olive’s mind.
“Do we?” she asks after the car has started moving. She slides her eyes to Mrs. Hudson, who looks at her inquisitively. “Do we want to find someone for Dad?”
Olive swallows loudly in the silence that follows. Mrs. Hudson’s face does not change, she merely tilts her head to the right as she considers. It doesn’t make Olive feel like she has asked something bad, but it was definitely unexpected.
“I mean, it’s always been the two of us,” Olive ventures with some uncertainty, “and things are good. Why add someone else?”
“Don’t you want your father to be happy?” Mrs. Hudson asks and Olive frowns mightily, clutching her bag to her chest tightly.
“He is happy,” the girl mutters defiantly.
“Oh, of course he is. That’s not what I meant, sweetie,” Mrs. Hudson reaches for her arm and touches it gently. Still glowering, Olive raises her grey eyes to meet the older woman’s soft brown gaze. “Your father loves you dearly and he is certainly very happy. It’s just that his heart has so much love to give and it’s a different kind of love. Like the kind Mycroft shares with Greg. I call it romantic love.”
“Romantic love?” Olive raises a skeptical brow, tiny wrinkles forming on the bridge of her nose.
“Yes,” Mrs. Hudson continues in a solemn tone. “You will feel it too one day when you meet a boy or girl you want to spend your whole life with, to kiss and hug.”
“Like on the mouth?” Olive asks, straightening her spine a bit and pulling her head back. Mrs. Hudson nods with a little smile. “Like Anna and Kristoff?”
“Yes,” Mrs. Hudson laughs. “Just like that. Like Mycroft and Greg.”
Olive’s expression becomes very serious. She shakes her head and releases the vice grip hold on her bag.
“Uncle Myc and Uncle Greg are nothing like Anna and Kristoff,” she says flatly. “They’re more like that older one. Beauty and the Beast.”
“Ha!” Mrs. Hudson crows, throwing up her hands. “I won’t even ask which one’s the beast.”
Olive grins mischievously and ducks her head, laughing with the older woman. The car stops outside the school as their merriment dies down. Mrs. Hudson puts her hand on Olive’s before she moves to leave the car.
“Know that having someone in your father’s life will never make him love you less,” she tells the girl tenderly. “There’s nothing on earth that could ever do that.”
“I know,” Olive says with a grin. She dives for her godmother and gives her a big hug as the first bell rings.
“Oh no. Hurry, dear, get to class,” Mrs. Hudson shoos her toward the door. “Sherlock will never forgive me if you’re late.”
“Thanks, Mrs. H,” Olive says, popping open the door. She runs for the three-story school building and is inside in minutes.
***
“So we are up to the number five in our multiplication table,” Mrs. Jennings finishes writing a large five next to a line of smaller numbers running from one to nine. She turns to face the class as she explains. Gracie is watching intently like most of the other kids, but Olive’s head is down while she scribbles on a scrap of paper. “As you know, these numbers are basically how many times five is added to itself, but there’s a secret to the number five that makes it one of the easiest to multiply. Start moving along the number line, writing your answers on paper and raise your hand when you know what the secret is.”
Heads go down as everyone begins working through the equations. Just as Gracie jots down twenty-five, she notices a folded scrap of paper on the desk between she and Olive, who is watching out of the corner of her eye. Gracie glances to the side and up to the whiteboard where Mrs. Jennings is slowly walking from side to side to make sure everyone is on task. Gracie licks her lips, leaving just the tip of her tongue poking out as she casually covers the scrap with her palm and slides it close. With the paper on her notebook where it can blend in with her work, she unfolds it and peers at Olive’s writing.
Your dad doesn’t like my dad.
Gracie blinks and furrows one brow while simultaneously cocking the other one. She nearly turns to look at Olive to ask an incredulous ‘What’ with her face, but resists the urge and scratches out a quick response instead. Folding the paper in half and sliding it back to the middle of the desk, Gracie raises her eyes to the front of the room again.
“All right. Who knows the secret?” Mrs. Jennings breaks the silence. “Teri?”
“You start with five and basically count by fives all the way up the line,” the girl answers from her seat in the second row. The pencil in her right hand is poised to write while the index finger of her left hand winds her long red hair around itself. Gracie watches knowingly at the nervous tell. It is just one of the many keys to observation Olive has taught her.
“Perfect. So why don’t we do that together, and remember to write it down as we go,” Mrs. Jennings moves to the whiteboard to write as well.
“Five, ten,” Teri begins and the rest of the class starts in with her until they reach forty-five.
“And there is our multiplication table for the number five,” Mrs. Jennings remarks and turns back to the class. “Does everyone see how we got that?”
Heads are bobbing up and down when Gracie notices the scrap of paper again. She slips her hand over it and moves it close.
“Good,” Mrs. Jennings is saying. “Let’s move on to number six. Write out the number line with six as your common denominator.”
Gracie quickly does this, if a little messily, and opens the note. Olive’s words are clearly printed under Gracie’s own message.
(Gracie) He just met him.
(Olive) But he doesn’t like him.
Gracie frowns and glances at Olive, who is staring straight ahead at Mrs. Jennings so as not to give them away. Gracie underlines her previous statement and slides the paper back toward Olive. It is back on her side of the desk in no time.
There’s something going on though. He kept looking at Dad like he’d seen him before and he freaked out about a playdate at mine.
Gracie glances in Olive’s direction, wondering how she wrote all of that so quickly. Getting a little irritated by the accusation, she writes hastily in a jerky script.
He didn’t freak out.
She passes it back.
“Good job, Michael,” Mrs. Jennings interrupts Gracie’s train of thought. “Now, what is six times four?”
Gracie quickly scrawls twenty-four in her notebook and looks up to see the note again. She huffs quietly at Olive’s words.
I don’t think he wants to come to my flat.
Gracie is about to pen a disgruntled response when Mrs. Jennings calls on her. Apparently, her frustration is more evident than she realized.
“Doing okay, Grace?” the teacher asks. “Are you having any trouble?”
“No, Mrs. Jennings,” Gracie answers respectfully. Mrs. Jennings nods and then asks Gracie for the answer, which she gives succinctly.
“Yes, Grace. Excellent work,” Mrs. Jennings commends her. “Six times four is the same as adding six to itself four times.Does that make sense to everyone?”
Gracie scribbles ‘That’s ridiculous,’ beneath all the other messages. The scrap is getting full now, but her two-word response fits in the space perfectly. She pushes the paper away and starts writing the table for seven. Olive’s reply awaits her when she is finished.
No, it’s not. They obviously have a history.
Gracie grumbles deep in her throat and pointedly underlines ‘He just met him.’ again as Olive watches. The little blonde adds an exclamation point and looks at her friend smugly. Olive purses her lips, turns the scrap over and begins writing feverishly. ‘They KNOW each other.’
Gracie rolls her eyes and tears her own corner from her notebook. She writes quickly and shoves it at Olive, who reads it immediately.
Wait til library time.
Olive looks to her friend and gives a shallow nod right as Mrs. Jennings calls on her.
“Do you have an answer, Olivia?”
“Thirty-two,” Olive says smoothly, directing her eyes to their teacher.
Gracie’s eyes go wide and she looks at her friend’s notebook as their teacher compliments her work. Olive has already written the number line for eight. Gracie is a line behind, in spite of being sure that she was paying attention while reading and writing the last few notes. Thank god Mrs. Jennings had not called on her.
Gracie looks at Olive’s now smug face and blows out a breath that ruffles her bangs. How does Olive do it? It’s like she has two separate brains sometimes. The girls exchange a smile and return their attention to the white board, each one anxiously anticipating the day’s special.
***
“That doesn’t make any sense,” Gracie whispers from her seat across the table, leaning forward for emphasis. After what seemed like days, but was only an hour, their class had lined up and walked to the library. Gracie and Olive immediately went to their usual table where Olive presented all of her evidence, as she called it, that proved their fathers had known each other before meeting in the park. She pointed out everything from eyes widening slightly to changes in tone and bloody shuffling of feet. She noticed Gracie’s dad curling his left hand into a fist, which Gracie has never once seen him do. How did that mean he actually knew Sherlock already and how on earth did Olive notice all these things?
“It makes perfect sense,” Olive insists, her neck craned toward Gracie. She had hunched over, pressing her chest and arms to the table side as soon as she began laying out her analysis. It is her position of choice for intense conversation and plotting. “Just look at all the clues. There’s no other explanation.”
“There are plenty of explanations,” Gracie counters. “Maybe your dad reminds mine of someone.”
“And yours reminds mine too?” Olive barely contains a bark. “Nonsense. No such thing as coincidence.”
“If they know each other, why wouldn’t they just say so?” Gracie throws her hands up as far as she dares in this setting.
“Adults have secrets, Gracie,” Olive mutters in a low voice. “Just like we do. There’s something they don’t want us to know.”
“Like what? They robbed a bank together?” Gracie snorts quietly. “No. I’m sorry, Olive. I can’t believe it. My dad never met Sherlock Holmes before we met you in the park.”
Gracie’s words slow as she reaches the end of the sentence. Olive starts in on trying to convince her, but her voice fades into the background. Things click inside Gracie’s head and for the first time since the conversation began, it all makes sense. Or doesn’t, as the case may be. If her father knew Sherlock, why wouldn’t he just tell her? Why keep it to himself? Gracie presses her lips together in thought. ‘You can have a playdate eventually. Just give me some time,’ he had said. Sherlock is obviously someone he had not expected to run into, but he must have been special to John at some point. Why else would he…
“Are you even listening?” Olive’s irritated tone suddenly breaks through Gracie’s thoughts. She blinks and looks at her friend with wide eyes. Olive huffs. “I’m not going to tell you all over again.”
Olive sits back in her chair, arms across her chest and a petulant look on her face. It only takes a second though before she reads Gracie’s expression and leans in again. Her grey-blue eyes shift rapidly between Gracie’s and she cocks her head slightly in consideration.
“What is it?” her voice is low and brimming with excitement.
“They do know each other,” Gracie breathes, “and they must have liked each other a lot.”
“Why? Why?” Olive can barely stay in her seat and she struggles to keep her voice down. “What is it?!”
Gracie wets her lips, her eyes darting to the right and left, as she leans close.
“My middle name is Holmes,” she tells her friend quietly.
“What?” Olive gasps in a hushed voice. Then her face swiftly morphs into irritation. “And you’re only just NOW mentioning this?”
The librarian shushes her from across the room instantly and Olive looks at her apologetically. When her focus is back on Gracie again, her expression is less disgruntled and more eager. Still, Gracie starts in right away, wanting to beat her to the punch.
“It was that first day with Jones and everything in the lunchroom,” she says in a rush. “She kept calling you Holmes and I thought she meant me at first. It was so weird, but I got distracted with hitting her and just sort of forgot about it.”
Gracie stops and watches Olive for a moment. The pieces are clearly falling into place for her too as she stares back with wide, luminous eyes. Her lips are shaped into a perfect O, but she hasn’t made a sound yet. Gracie hops a little in her chair, skooching forward to its edge and placing her hands flat on the table.
“Why would Dad name me Grace Holmes Watson if your dad wasn’t important to him?” Gracie takes in a quick breath when Olive gasps loudly, her hands flying to cover her mouth.
The librarian shushes them again and Gracie smiles a timid apology this time. She nods at the librarian’s silent warning, promising they will do better and then turns back to Olive. Her friend’s face is absolutely astonished, her eyes filled with shock and wonder. Olive knows something. Gracie’s words have pulled some key observation to the front of Olive’s mind and Gracie must know what it is. Now.
Gracie opens her mouth to speak, but Olive’s lips part first. Her voice comes out shaky with emotion.
“Olivia Watson Holmes,” is all she says.
Gracie’s eyes double in size and her face goes slack. They sit for a moment in utter silence, unmoving while the world slows to a stop around them. Gracie’s body is tingling and feels like it’s floating. It is almost too much to believe, like it can’t be real. Surely their fathers must have been best friends for them to name their daughters after each other. But then what happened? How did Gracie’s dad end up in Bath and why did he never mention Sherlock?
“Gracie?” Olive’s eyes are on Gracie when her own come back into focus. Their gazes meet and both brows crease with determination. They are of one mind. There is only one way to find the answers they want.
“Google,” they say together and rise from their chairs decisively, hands planted on the table to push them up.
Minutes later they are each seated in front of a desktop computer in the library lab. As luck would have it, they even got two next to each other and in a corner where their whispers are unlikely to bother anyone. Olive is scrolling through links to article after article from ten to twelve years earlier, all of them solved by Sherlock Holmes and John Watson. Meanwhile, Gracie does much the same, though she has just stumbled across a goldmine.
“I can’t believe this,” Olive murmurs in a breathy tone. “Look at all these cases. Your dad is the partner in his stories. Dad’s man, Friday. His conductor of light.”
“Oh my god,” Gracie mumbles in disbelief.
“What?” Olive crowds in next to her and reads the title of the blog on Gracie’s screen. “The Personal Blog of Dr. John H. Watson.”
“They’re all here,” Gracie’s voice sounds far away. She just can’t believe this is all real. “All of Dad’s bedtime stories. The Mayfly Man, The Hounds of Baskerville, The Deadly Tealights, A Study in Pink. Every last one, and more.”
“What do you mean?” Olive asks in a confused tone. “These are all Dad’s cases.”
“Our dads are Sam and Dean,” Gracie stares at the screen, selecting one of the links and scanning the page rapidly.
“Sam and Dean?” Olive furrows her brow. “What are you on about?”
“Remember I told you my dad has these mystery stories that he tells me at bedtime?” Gracie turns to look at her friend urgently. “Two guys named Sam and Dean solve them all. I always thought Dean sounded kind of like Dad, but…” Her voice fades away and she looks back at the screen. “He actually is.”
“Go back to the home page,” Olive says. Gracie complies and Olive points. “Look at this one. ‘My new flatmate.’.”
They both read quickly and then eyes meet, wide with shock.
“They were flatmates,” Gracie breathes, astonished.
“No way,” Olive mutters. “No wonder your dad doesn’t want to come to my flat.”
“Wait, wait,” Gracie clicks back and scrolls, not finding what she wants. “But what happened? Why did he move away?”
She clicks on different links and they both read as their library time ticks away. With only minutes to spare, both girls sit back in their chairs, completely overwhelmed with the knowledge they now possess.
“Dad faked his own death?” Olive is dumbfounded, her face slack with shock. “He never told me that story.”
“Dad got married and just stopped,” Gracie shakes her head in disappointment. “Your dad even wrote the blog about the wedding. I just… I don’t understand. Dad obviously loved what he was doing and with his best friend too. Why would he stop?”
“All right, everyone,” Mrs. Jennings calls from the stacks. “Line up and back to class.”
The girls close their searches after clearing the histories. Olive is always on about covering their tracks. They walk to the end of the line in defeat. Their investigation turned up more questions and confusion than answers. Standing in silent thought as they wait for the line to move, Gracie makes a decision. She has to have answers.
“I can’t not know,” she says sternly, determination bright in her blue eyes. “I’m going to ask Dad about it tonight.”
“What? No!” Olive grabs her arm and Gracie turns to glare. “We can’t just ask them about it. They won’t tell us anything.”
“Then how are we supposed to find out what happened?” Gracie growls with frustration. The line begins to move and she has to turn her back on Olive to walk.
“We’ll carry out our own investigation,” Olive says in her ear. “This is our case. Our first case.”
“I don’t know how to do that,” Gracie grumbles without so much as a glance backwards.
“I do,” Olive’s voice has some of its usual tenacity again. “I’ll teach you at lunch and we can talk to them tonight.”
“I don’t know,” Gracie replies hesitantly. “I’ve never done anything like this before. What if I’m no good at it?”
“Ha,” Olive huffs. “You’ll be a natural. Trust me.”
***
Gracie raises her eyes from the book propped on her chest where she lies on the couch. Lifting her chin just a bit gives her the perfect view of her father sitting in his chair with the day’s newspaper in his hands. At this point in the evening, he has it folded in half so she can easily see his face. Olive said that was of the utmost importance because Gracie will see what John doesn’t say.
Still not sure if she is ready for this, Gracie runs through the list of features to watch for. There are obvious ones like eyes and eyebrows, knee-jerk expressions that are schooled away, mouth movements. Olive went on for some time about how different ways of wetting one’s lips mean different things. Gracie had never realized there were distinctions. Then Olive went on about twitches and other such things that were lost on Gracie. Given the time, she is sure she could learn and understand quite a bit about it all, but certainly not from what little she gleaned at lunch.
Gracie looks at her father again where he sits completely unawares, his eyes moving from left to right across the words on the page before him. With a fortifying breath, she clears her throat and starts with a question she hopes to build on without giving anything away.
“Dad, how long did you have a best friend?” Gracie asks as casually as she can manage, but it comes out sounding more like she placed air quotes around the words best friend. She closes her eyes immediately, supremely disappointed with herself and then pops them open quickly to check on her father. Allowing a tiny sigh of relief upon seeing that John has not even lifted his gaze from the paper, Gracie’s confidence level bounces back up.
John is frowning in thought at the page, so he has definitely heard her. His mouth opens and he looks about to give some cursory answer, but cocks a brow and shifts his gaze to hers instead.
“What?” John replies with a tone of confusion.
“Your best friend,” Gracie continues, lowering her book to lay flat on her chest. “I know you had one.”
“Oh. Right,” John pauses, glancing back at the paper and then looking at her over the top of his reading glasses. “I feel like we talked about this already.”
“We did,” Gracie answers somewhat abruptly, not wanting to give him much time to think on that, “but you didn’t say anything. Just that you solved cases together.”
“Medical cases,” John corrects and Gracie wants to smirk as she thinks ‘Medical cases, my foot’.
“What was he like? What did he do? What’s his name?” Gracie rattles off, even as she hears Olive’s voice in her head reminding her that they can’t just walk in and demand names. Gracie nearly shudders, but hides it with the movement of pulling herself up to sit.
“Whoa, whoa,” John lowers his newspaper to let it rest in his lap. “Where is all this coming from?”
“Well,” Gracie pauses a moment to try and get her thoughts together. She has to salvage this. “Now that I have a best friend, I want to know more about yours. Did you really like him? The way I like Olive?”
“I loved him,” John answers without hesitation and he looks like the candid response surprises even himself. Gracie’s eyes widen tenfold as John clears his throat and shifts the newspaper pages noisily. “We were quite close.”
“Wow,” Gracie breathes. Now she is getting somewhere. She wonders if Olive is having this much luck with her dad. “You must’ve done everything together.”
“We spent a lot of time together, yes,” John says somewhat absently. Gracie tilts her head in amazement. He is trying to affect indifference, like the whole friendship was perfectly normal and not at all a special part of his life, and Gracie can tell. Empowered, she continues.
“Solving cases,” she nudges in a light tone.
“Working on cases,” John corrects for the umpteenth time. “Medical cases.”
“Hmm,” Gracie hums in thought. When John cocks a brow as if wondering what she is up to, Gracie moves for distraction with another question. “Did you have lots of sleepovers?”
Unabashed laughter bursts from John’s lips and the clever girl smiles to herself. Distraction successful.
“No, sweet pea,” John chuckles and then back tracks. “Well, maybe in a manner of speaking. We shared a flat, so I suppose you could say every night was a sleepover.”
“Wow. That would be so awesome,” Gracie repeats, truly in awe for a moment as she thinks of it. Living in the same flat as Olive so they could play all the time and do schoolwork together and she could help with Olive and her dad’s experiments. The thought of Sherlock brings her back around to the task at hand. She aims for idle curiosity when asking the next question. “So what happened to him?”
“Erm,” John’s body visibly gives a slight shudder and a feeling of concern begins to rise up in Gracie’s throat. She bites her lip and considers brushing the inquiry aside when John straightens in his chair. “Sometimes…things happen. Sometimes friends can hurt you. And then Mary wanted to move and we just...left.”
“So Mary wanted to go to Bath,” Gracie has never once called Mary Morstan her mother. John has always just called her Mary, so Gracie does too. It is hard for her to think of Mary as anything since she has no part in Gracie’s life. She found an old wedding photo once, but has never met the woman. “And you just went with her?”
“She was my wife, sweet pea,” John answers simply.
“Well, why didn’t you call him?” Gracie frowns. “Or text?”
“It’s hard to explain,” John sighs. “Sometimes the things adults do are hard to understand.”
“Dad,” Gracie says in a dull voice and blinks her eyes into a roll like she is already a teenager, “I’m eight and a half years old. I can totally understand complicated things and I want to know. I don’t want that to happen with me and Olive.”
“It won’t. Of that I have no doubt,” John assures her with a quiet huff of a chuckle.
Gracie shifts on the couch to face him fully and sets her book aside. Fixing him with a serious expression, she goes in for the kill, a move Olive had explained very carefully.
“You said friends can hurt you sometimes,” she begins, already seeing that her words have the desired effect. “I’m sure they don’t mean to. Can you honestly say that will never happen to me and Olive?”
John lets out a weary sigh, sets aside his newspaper and rises to join her on the couch. He looks at her with soft eyes for a long moment and smoothes back her hair. Gracie licks her lips, looking at him expectantly.
“He hurt me very badly,” John’s voice is little more than a whisper. Gracie can hear the pain and regret in it. “I tried to pretend it wasn’t there, but...it was hard. Very hard. Mary saw it. SHe didn’t like him much in the end, so she did a little looking and found us a place in Bath. We broke off everything, all communication with all of our friends in London. We started over.”
“Damn,” Gracie murmurs before she can think better of it.
“Language, Gracie,” John scolds with a fond frown.
“Sorry,” she says quickly and then pauses a moment before asking tentatively: “Mary’s gone now. She has been for a long time. Would you ever want to be friends with him again?”
John takes a deep breath and stares over her shoulder for a moment. His eyes are far away and almost wistful. She can already see his answer in his expression, but waits to see if he will put it into words.
“Yeah,” he says finally. “I think I would.”
Victory.
John blinks and returns his gaze to his daughter, who is trying not to look too satisfied with her success. He smiles and pulls her into a hug, kissing the top of her head.
“It’s getting late, my Gracie girl,” John says affectionately. “We need to get you to bed.”
“Okay,” they both stand and head for the loo. “Are you going to call your best friend while I’m sleeping?”
“Ah, no,” John answers as if the proposal is absurd.
“What?” Gracie stops cold and stares up at him, looking for clues. She was sure she had solved it. Why wouldn’t he want to call Sherlock? “Why not? You said you want to.”
“It’s been too long, sweet pea,” John says almost sadly. “It’s all in the past and can’t be salvaged. It just happens that way sometimes.”
“But Dad,” Gracie starts, determined to make him see why that is stupid. John’s hands are on her shoulders now and he is gently guiding her to the loo.
“That’s enough for tonight,” he says good-naturedly. “You’ll be grumpy tomorrow if you don’t get enough sleep.”
“Dad!” Gracie lets out a loud declaration, looking back at him as she walks. “I will not be grumpy.”
“Still bedtime,” John reminds with an amused smirk. Gracie turns to face him and crosses her arms over her chest. She narrows her eyes and gives him a stern look, the bridge of her nose wrinkling.
“Fine,” Gracie mutters and quietly stomps to the sink to show her displeasure without enough defiance to get in trouble. John walks away with a half chuckle.
Gracie considers their conversation as she readies her toothbrush and brushes. Her dad would clearly like to be friends with Sherlock again. Gracie thinks he still likes him very much and Sherlock didn’t seem mean or anything when they were at the park. Plus, she has Olive’s word for it too. Why couldn’t they be best friends again?
Olive will have a plan, Gracie resolves as she spits in the sink. Once she tells her friend all about this at lunch, Olive will have a plan and they can put it into action. Satisfied, Gracie rinses her toothbrush, puts it away and heads to her room for a bedtime story.
---
No mortal danger in this story, but still so many compelling questions! What will happen?? Only The Shadow (ME) knows. Mwahahahaha! Maniacal laughter. Next couple weeks are going to be busy, but I intend to keep on my posting schedule. See you all soon! Love, Jane
@johnlock-rocks
#Sherlock Holmes#Sherlock#sherlockholmes#sherlock loves john#john watson#johnwatson#johnlock#Johnlock fanfic#sherlock fanfic#John loves Sherlock#Mystrade
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