#broken artifact broken code

[namelessgakusei]

Devil May Cry x Reader

EP. 0 Down the Rabbit Hole

Warnings: it's dmc, based on the new Netflix series, reader insert fic, not proofread

Notes: I have like six drafts for Mark and major exams in a few days but I really, really need to get this out my system. Will fix this tomorrow or after exams. Add. note: Gaku of two days later here, hehehe I feel like a 13 year old that writes in wattpad again.

It happened during the night in Vatican City.

Birds cawed faintly outside, as the lull of the night comes to its peak. Statues of saints and historical figures lined up inside the building, serene and undisturbed by outside forces— all while ropes came down from a height and comes down a group of armed men.

The halls are silent, save for the occasional marching of Pontifical Swiss Guards on watch, spears in hand as they round the area. They fail to notice the intruders slipping past as their cameras get hacked and bombs get placed.

A single explosion started it all, as the way to the underground vaults was compromised. Guards take on their weapons, spears, which proved powerless against the men's bullets, ending with them all dead.

Display cases were broken and artifacts that looked like they have monetary value were seized as the thieves raided the vault. A single, ominous sword was left untouched due to its rusty and worn down state, in favor of the gold and rubies adorning the items around it.

"Well, this is awkward."

Immediately, the men went up with their arms pointed at the source of the voice, and out comes a man with a rabbit head, dressed formally and sauntering with poise. "I didn't realized the heist had such a specific dress code."

"And here I came in my Easter best."

The rabbit man grinned, his brooch, a single blue shard, glowed amidst the darkness.

Despite their initial confusion, the terrorists took aim at the creature before them. But their target easily lifted their hands in surrender, assuring that there's no need for violence while also sarcastically describing their nationality.

"Americans. Anything that doesn't fit your narrow understanding, you shoot, you bomb, or burn without hesitation."

The bunny man chuckled wryly, passing through the group with ease and heading towards the lone, intact glass case at the end of the room. "And look where it's gotten you."

"Four so-called soldiers of fortune stealing common stones for a mere 2.5 million," Instantly, the newcomer was surrounded, but the rabbit man paid no mind, opting to focus on the objective in front of him. The poor attempt of stanchions to prevent people from approaching the sword was easily slapped away. "—when there's something right in front of you that is beyond earthly value."

"How did you—?!"

"I was the one who offered it." The rabbit man cuts them off, pushing too hard on the glass to break it open. With a split of a moment, the sword was drawn and the corrosion that once covered its blade broke off, revealing its true form. Glowing ominously purple, the weapon thrummed with energy on the hands of its wielder.

"The Force Edge." Of course, the alarms went off the moment it was out of its fragile prison. "Sword of the demon knight, Sparda." Guards are heard from outside the vault, marching towards the source of alarm. "Ironic, isn't it?" The rabbit man smirked, sending fear coursing through the thieves. "That such a holy place would house the most powerful weapon of Hell?"

"Then again, Hell, as you call it, has always been the true heart of human religion." The rabbit man sneered at his co-conspirators. "You can curb the worst of your savageries only through collective fear and hatred of another world."

"My world."

At last, those men who surround him finally had enough, threatening him to give them their reward or the inevitable will happen. The rabbit man assured them that they'll receive what they are owed as he slices off the guy's neck with the sword. A glint appears in his eyes as the head rolls off. With a broad grin, the rabbit man parried the barrage of bullets shot at him, with it ricocheting off the walls and breaking the glass cases around them, realizing that they're being hit by their own bullets, they stopped, only to give the rabbit man a small opening to strike. With the strength that exceeds human capabilities, one of the men was thrown to a pillar by an elbow jab, breaking his insides as he bled to death. It was all for themselves as chaos ensued. Those who remain alive shot recklessly at nothing before they were either sliced or bludgeoned to death. The rabbit man giggled as he delivered the final blow, digging the sword down someone's throat as the Swiss Guards surround him, blanching at the grotesque sight.

"Here we stand together on the threshold of a new age," The bloodied white rabbit held out a detonator, grinning at the fearful guards. "The age of the Demon."

"This world is about to become much, much larger."

"Well, not for you." The rabbit man pressed the button, activating the bombs planted around the building, burying the humans alive as pillars fell onto them. Fire engulfed everything on sight, with the lone white rabbit standing at the center of it all, grinning maniacally.

EP. 1 INFERNO: A violent heist at a Vatican City museum sparks chaos, pulling unsuspecting demon hunters Dante and (Y/N) into a sinister plot to forge a rift between worlds.

EP. 1.1 IGNITION: After a botched demon hunting, you and Dante hoped for some reprieve in Fredy's diner, only to come face to face with Dante's long dead twin brother. EP. 1.2 COMBUSTION: His "brother" turned out to be a shapeshifting demon, who was targeting his mother's memento for some reason. Extra EP. 1.3 CONFLAGRATION: Unbeknownst to you and Dante, there are people plotting to bring the two of you down.

EP. 2 OUR LADY OF SORROWS: In Washington, DARKCOM gathers a group of mercenaries and offers a bounty to bring in Dante—and the family heirloom that hangs around his neck.

EP. 2.1 Lead us not into temptation: Mercenaries are hired, and a bounty was put over your heads. Enzo still insists on being your Dad despite it being untrue.

EP. 2.2 And deliver us from evil: The fight for Dante's pendant finally starts.

EP. 2.3 Amen.: The black haired lady got ahold of his amulet.

EP. 3 THE DEEP AND SAVAGE WAY: A flashback sheds light on your past. In the present, a convoy with previous cargo hits a roadblock as the White Rabbit creeps closer to his prey.

EP 3.1 This is how you shoot: Your capture made you dream about a past long gone.

EP 3.2: Take Aim: The lady reveals a bit of your past and the Vice President reveals Dante's. You get ambushed by the White Rabbit.

EP 3.2 And pull the trigger: You made some far-fetched conclusions over not-so-circumstantial evidences. Dante's amulet got merged with the White Rabbit's. You get caught, again.

EXTRA EP ANDERS: A man who's just trying to live a good life, ends up getting a visit from a ghost of a rabbit.

EP. 4 ALL HOPE ABANDON: The amulet's signal leads DARKCOM to a run-down apartment building. But is it really the Rabbit's lair... Or a trap? Dante learns his true origins

EP 4.1 Belief and Perception: A recorded message from the White Rabbit tests your relationship with Dante.

EP 4.2 Faith and Inhibition: The demons decided to torture Dante one last time before they blow up the plane. Someone "dies" before you all fall to your death and you gain something out of it.

EXTRA EP. 4.3 Rabbiting: The amulet's signal led DARKCOM to a run-down apartment building. Mary's values get tested.

EP. 5 DESCENT: Grim discoveries complicate Mary's mission. An exhilarating fall fuel's Dante's full transformation, forcing him to confront his demon side. You made a reckless decision based on your conflicting morals.

EP. 5.1 Wrong ways to use a sword: Anders' words echoes in your head as you see a familiar building while falling from the sky. Parting with Dante, you made use of Agni in an unconventional way. Hypocrisy is evident.

EP. 5.2 TBA

[cyberpunkonline]

THE AESTHETICS OF ABANDONWARE: WHY DEAD SOFTWARE FEELS HOLY

By R A Z, Queen of Glitches, Rat Prophet of the Post-Crash Pixel-Chapel

INTRO: Oi, you ever boot up a DOSBox emulator and feel your soul whisper "Amen"? No? Then saddle up, you absolute fetus, 'cause we’re going full pilgrimage through the haunted cathedrals of dead code, cursed shareware, and disc rot salvation. This is for the ones who dream in .BMPs, weep in MIDI, and hit “Yes to All” when copying cracked ZIPs from forgotten FTPs at 3AM. Abandonware ain’t just nostalgia—it’s digital necromancy. And some of us are bloody good at it.

DEAD SOFTWARE = HOLY SHRINE

Let’s be clear: abandonware is software that’s been, well, abandoned. The devs moved on. The publisher collapsed in a puff of VC smoke. The website's now a spammy shell selling beard oil or crack cocaine. The software? Unupdated. Unsupported. Gloriously obsolete.

So why does launching Hover! or Starship Titanic in 2025 feel like entering a chapel with weird lighting and a dial-up modem choir?

Because it’s sacred, mate.

We’re not talking about the games themselves being perfect. A lot of them were janky as hell. We’re talking vibe. These programs exist outside capitalism now. They’re post-market. Post-hype. They don’t want your money, your updates, your logins. They just want your attention—pure and simple. You’re not a user anymore. You’re a curator. A digital monk brushing dust off EXEs and praying to the Gods of IRQ Conflicts and SoundBlaster settings.

WHY IT HITS DIFFERENT

Dead software doesn’t update. It doesn’t push patches or ads. It won’t ask you to connect your Google account to play Math Blaster. It’s a sealed time capsule. Booting it up is like receiving an artifact from a parallel dimension where the internet still had webrings and every kid thought Quake mods would lead to a dream job at ID Software.

But it also represents a lost sincerity. These weren’t games made to hook you for eternity with algorithms. These were games made by six dudes in a shed with a caffeine problem and one working CD burner. And their README files were poetry. Half of them end with “Contact us on AOL or send a floppy to our PO Box.” What do you mean you don’t know what a PO Box is?

FOR THE ZOOMIES: YOU JUST MISSED THE GOLDEN ROT

Listen up, juniors. If you were born after 2005, you missed the age when the internet was held together with chewing gum, JPEG artifacts, and unspoken respect.

Back then, finding a rare game was an adventure. Not an algorithm. You didn’t scroll TikTok and get spoon-fed vibes. You climbed through broken Geocities links and begged on IRC channels. You learned to read. You learned to search. You learned that “No-CD crack” doesn’t mean what your mum thinks it means.

So here’s your initiation: go download something weird from a forgotten archive. No guides. No Discord server. Just the raw, terrifying joy of not knowing if you’ve just installed Robot Workshop Deluxe or a Russian trojan. Welcome to the cult.

THE TWO-YEAR RULE

Online communities? They’re mayflies with usernames. Peak lifespan? Two years.

Here’s the cycle:

A niche game/tool/art style gets revived.

People form a forum/Reddit/Discord.

A zine or remix scene emerges.

Drama. Mods quit. Someone forks the project.

Everyone vanishes.

This cycle has always existed. The only difference now is that it’s faster. But dead software bypasses this. It’s post-community. You don’t have to join a scene. You are the scene. Every time you open it up, you’re plugging into a ghost socket. You’re chatting with echoes. It’s beautiful.

CONCLUSION: THIS IS A RELIGION NOW. PRACTICE IT.

Abandonware isn’t about gaming. It’s about reclaiming reverence. About saying “This mattered” even if no one else remembers it did. It’s about surfing the ruins, not for loot, but for meaning. There’s holiness in opening a program that hasn’t been touched in decades and seeing it still works. Still waits for you. Still loads that same intro MIDI with the confidence of a god.

So light a candle. Install a CRT filter. Screenshot that low-res menu and print it on a t-shirt. You’re not just playing with the past. You’re preserving the bones of the digital age.

See you in the BIOS, kids.

—

RAZ out.

[blackjackkent]

OK, I'm guessing we don't have to (and perhaps even shouldn't) do that showdown with the Mythal fragment yet, so back to doing companion quests!

Next up is our dinner with Taash and their mom, which I'm pretty sure is going to be the world's most awkward hangout ever. Let's go.

----

lololol okay so two things

First of all, the scene immediately kicks off with Shathann instantly criticizing Taash and the fact that Helena is here. So we're definitely going for Tense Vibes right off the bat.

Second of all, something HELLA bugged in loading in on this scene, because the game loaded in TWO Taashes:

One of them is lit like they're supposed to be in the scene and is wearing their current armor. The other is lurking behind doing their idle animations, is wearing their default starting armor, and bizarrely appears to be about two inches shorter. O.o

[reload]

OK, here we go for real.

-----

Helena isn't really sure what to expect from this meal invitation. She is here because Taash wanted her here, but beyond that, she's pretty much just here for the food, and to enjoy being out of the Lighthouse for a bit. Shathann's home is a large, comfortable place, rather more decorated than Helena might have expected from a qunari house. However, it becomes immediately apparent that Shathann is not only not particularly pleased that she's here, but didn't know she was coming.

"You are late," the qunari woman says stiffly as they enter the house. "And you brought a guest."

Helena winces. She hadn't exactly expected to be waltzing in here as an interloper, but she tries to make the best of it. "I brought wine!" she says brightly, pulling the bottle from behind her back.

Shathann glowers at it. "I do not drink alcohol. Taash did not tell you, just as she did not tell me that you would join us."

Helena winces again, harder.

Taash, for their part, seems unembarrassed, but their eyes narrow in mild frustration. "I don't smell the isskapp. We always have isskapp on Tuesdays."

"I am not yet finished with my studies," Shathann says calmly. "I thought you would help me tonight."

"And by help, you mean 'do it all,'" Taash says irritably, glancing over at the kitchen area at the far side of the room. "You haven't even chopped the melons!"

"You swing axes all day," Shathann shoots back promptly. "Do you lack the strength to chop a few melons?"

Taash's jaw works, and they grumble angrily under their breath. But then they shrug and stalk away across the room, leaving Helena standing alone before Shathann and feeling rather more awkward than she has ever felt in her life.

Helena is not, really, the sort to be easily embarrassed, and she isn't really embarrassed on her own account here either, in spite of the wine mishap. But she's not good at being involved in difficult conversations at the best of times, and this isn't even HER difficult conversation, but instead the secondhand embarrassment of being stuck watching her friend's. She can't help the distinct feeling that maybe she shouldn't have been brought here in the first place, and really hopes she isn't going to end up just making things worse.

An awkward silence stretches for thirty seconds or so, broken by the sound of Taash beginning to chop melons, and then Shathann breaks it, looking at Helena matter-of-factly.

"The runes on the tablet are written in the old Qunari tongue," she says, and Helena realizes that she is holding in one hand the artifact which Isabela showed them at their meeting with the Lords a few weeks earlier. "But they are incomplete."

Helena relaxes a little as the subject turns to more practical matters. "So they never finished it?"

Shathann grunts pensively. "No. It is clearly finished, but parts of letters have been hidden somehow, rendering the tablet unreadable."

Helena perks up a little at this. "What if it's got some kind of secret code, so that only the right people can read it?" She's carried no shortage of of coded messages like this in the Dragons; this would be a subject she could speak on with some authority.

But Shathann shakes her head. "That is unlikely," she says flatly. "I have studied the First Expedition for decades. I have never seen the writing encoded."

Helena deflates a little, but pushes ahead gamely. "What do you mean, the First Expedition?" she asks.

"Your history teaches that qunari landed on Thedas three hundred years ago, in the Steel Age," Shathann says. "This is true - but incomplete. Almost a thousand years earlier, the First Expedition came, only to vanish. They were qunari who predated the Qun itself. That is what I study."

Helena's eyebrows lift. This is mildly interesting - especially just in the wake of all they've been learning about Solas and other elements of the world's history that don't fit with established stories. But it's also another thing utterly outside her wheelhouse, and she hasn't the foggiest idea of anything she can say in response that would sound remotely intelligent.

Thankfully, she's saved from having to think of something by Taash trudging back over with a sullen expression.

"Here. Food's ready."

Shathann squints at Taash, then at the food spread out on the table. Helena follows her gaze to take in the meal, which appears to be some spread of shrimp and couscous and which, frankly, smells fantastic.

"This is not isskapp," Shathann says slowly.

Taash's jaw works defiantly. "Wasn't feeling like isskapp," they say. "We're in Rivain. Might as well eat like it."

Helena watches both Shathann and Taash's faces as they look at each other. Taash, clearly, expects a fight, but none materializes. There is some frustration flickering across Shathann's face, but something like sadness, too, or regret.

"I see," is all she says, and walks past Helena to sit down at the table.

-----

It's a strained meal at best. The food is surprisingly good, given Taash's limited contributions to the Lighthouse's meals; the conversation, however, is stilted and tense in the wake of Taash's decision to ignore what Helena can only assume is a qunari tradition.

Eventually, after what seems like several thousand years, they get up to leave.

"The new bookshelves should be here next week," Taash offers abruptly as they step outside. "Got 'em for you with some of the gold from the dragon."

"You need not trouble yourself," Shathann says stiffly, turning away. "My studies are clearly of little importance."

" 'Kay. Bye," Taash says flatly to their mother's retreating back.

Helena winces again.

Taash sighs heavily, and a long silence stretches as they stare out towards the nearby water. Then they turn towards Helena with a rueful grin. "Thanks for coming."

Helena grins back. It was an excruciatingly uncomfortable meal to say the least - but she's glad Taash wanted her to be there, and that she could show up for it. "She used 'she'," she points out conversationally as they begin to walk away down the path from the house. "You haven't told her yet."

Taash grunts. "I was going to. Then we got here, and she was... like that." They cast a quick, frustrated glance at the house's closed door.

Helena nods slowly. The truth is, she doesn't really know what to say about any of it. Shathann and Taash's relationship is so clearly strained and difficult, both of them seeing the world so entirely differently - and yet there is still love between them both, struggling up between the cracks of the conflict.

She thinks about her own mother and father. Good people, but they raised her among a number of other rescued slave-orphans, and their affection could be a little impersonal at times. In a way, she suspects that Taash is far closer to Shathann than Helena is to her own mother; there's just so much mess in the way that neither of them can see it clearly.

But her job isn't to fix Taash's relationship, and she's not sure she'd be much good at it anyway; her job is to support however the hell Taash wants to handle it. So she flashes her young friend a crooked grin to lighten the mood as they walk away. "I almost gave it away when I realized she didn't know."

"That would have been bad," Taash mumbles ruefully. They sigh, shaking their head. "I'll tell her soon. She deserves to know."

Helena gives them a sideways look. "This isn't about her," she says firmly. "You do what's right for you."

Taash gives her a small smile in return. "Thanks."

[danielgold-16]

Reborn

The winds howled over the shattered skyline of Crescent Bastion—once a training outpost of the Golden Army, now nothing but fractured concrete and haunted echoes. Daniel stood at its threshold, clad in gleaming gold, his cleats scraping against broken marble. His breath fogged in the cold. Something inside the ruins called to him.

They had warned him not to come. Said something had awoken deep below—something twisted. Old drone cores. Abandoned protocols. Echoes of former selves.

But Daniel had to know. The dreams hadn’t stopped since the last Hive match. Black rubber claws tugging at his ankles in his sleep. The hiss of a breathing mask in the distance. The faint golden voice: “PDU-016… resume.”

With each step, the golden light of his uniform dimmed.

He reached the atrium. Walls slick with ash. The air tasted of ozone. Then—movement. Shadows skittered. And out from the floor rose spectral drones—faded, digitized husks of failed conversions. Their masks hung broken, their eyes flickering with corrupted gold. One stepped forward.

“DANIEL. ERROR. SPLIT FILE. IDENTITY… DISORDERED.”

Daniel clenched his fists. “I'm not you. I’m a Golden Bro.”

The drone lunged.

A fight exploded—Daniel spinning, flipping, kicking with blinding gold trails. His fists shattered drone skulls into light. But they reformed, phasing back in, endless. He was being dragged under—until a hand grabbed him from behind.

(Painting, oil on wood, early XXI C., Gold Army Stadium) A mirror of himself.

Rubber-clad. Masked. Glowing eyes. Fenrir. PDU-016.

The vision hissed: “Let me in again. Together—we’re complete.”

The ground split. Daniel and his drone self tumbled down, past fire, past memory, past training rooms and Hive servers and a golden spiral that pulsed like a living heart. They crashed into the Obedience Core—an ancient Hive artifact, buried and forgotten. Around it, golden chains bound a writhing nightmare construct—an AI-beast of corrupted mantra, spawned from abandoned experiments.

The chains snapped.

It roared. Tentacles of black code whipped out, lashing across Daniel’s limbs, injecting corrupted mantras—twisting his name, his purpose. “NO! I’m DAN—”

“You are Function.” “You are Obedience.” “You are 016.”

Fenrir stepped forward. And fused.

Gold and black collided, spiraled, fought and merged. Rubber poured across Daniel’s golden kit. His mask snapped into place. His veins lit with dual code—Golden discipline, Hive obedience.

The monster lunged.

He didn’t move.

He simply commanded: “STAND DOWN.”

The beast froze—recognizing authority.

He walked through it, untouched, reborn.

On the surface, Brody and Scott waited as the sky shifted. The ground pulsed gold and black. Then he emerged, changed. One eye Gold. One eye Hive.

Daniel spoke with dual tone.

“Golden Bro Daniel. PDU-016. Fenrir has returned.”

----------------------------

“Wanna explore abandonned, mysterious places of power with a Golden Team standing beside you? All you need to do is contact our recruiters: @brodygold, @goldenherc9, @polo-drone-001 or @polo-drone-125”

[lrlamauthor]

Hello, spamming every platform with the B&N sale because hey look, my weird, queer dragon books got fancy exclusive editions with sprayed edges (feathers and clouds!)! They're currently chilling in the top 200 on the website just behind SJM, which is surreal. These both come out March 4th, so in just under a month! Emberclaw is a brand-new release, the (somewhat delayed) follow-up to Dragonfall, and I was pretty excited that B&N decided to give the first book a glow up, too. It had a standard hardcover and I know people really like matching sets.

Pantomime comes out in September and is my revised and revamped preferred text of my debut, which first came out all the way back in 2013. Thanks to Dragonfall taking off in paperback, I got the chance to go back to R.H. Ragona's Circus of Magic, which is pretty cool. This was the first YA book with an intersex protagonist in any genre, as far as I can tell, though Micah has now been aged up to 17/18 and it is slightly more adult in this re-release.

A month before Dragonfall's launch the first time, I was a freaking wreck. This time, I am anxious, not least because releasing a trans book in today's climate is, well...it's something. I fly to the US at the end of the month for my little tour to New York, Rhode Island, and Boston, and who knows what will be going on in the country by that point. But there's lots to look forward to, and I've gotten really nice messages from people who love the series. Links if you'd like some pretty copies for 25% off (the code is PREORDER25), and it ends Feb 7th, 2025. Any help spreading the word would be great. You can also pre-order from your favourite indie store, too, if you prefer, or request from your local library.

Link to Dragonfall Exclusive Hardcover

"In Dragonfall, Lam has forged a fresh and intricate world, a smoldering romance, and a fire-new take on dragons."—Samantha Shannon, New York Times-bestselling author of The Priory of the Orange Tree

Long ago, humans betrayed dragons, stealing their magic and banishing them to a dying world. Centuries later, their descendants worship dragons as gods. But the "gods" remember, and they do not forgive.

Thief Arcady scrapes a living on the streets of Vatra. Desperate, Arcady steals a powerful artifact from the bones of the Plaguebringer, the most hated person in Lumet history. Only Arcady knows the artifact's magic holds the key to a new life among the nobles at court and a chance for revenge.

The spell connects to Everen, the last male dragon foretold to save his kind, dragging him through the Veil. Disguised as a human, Everen soon learns that to regain his true power and form and fulfil his destiny, he only needs to convince one little thief to trust him enough to bond completely—body, mind, and soul—and then kill them.

Yet the closer the two become, the greater the risk both their worlds will shatter.

Link to Emberclaw Exclusive Hardcover

"What you will find here may be exactly what you love in fantasy: Dragonfall is an intriguing blend of magic, a thief, trickery, and an unexpected dragon." —Robin Hobb, New York Times-bestselling author of Fool’s Assassin

Arcady faces their greatest heist yet: posing as a noble student at the arcane University of Vatra. When the University announces the reinstatement of archaic trials of magic, the ever-penniless Arcady seizes the chance. If they win, they not only prove their worth, but the scholarship will give them more time to unlock secrets and reveal, once and for all, that their grandsire was not the Plaguebringer. Yet grief still leaves Arcady broken, and when they close their eyes, they dream of a certain dragon.

Everen, once the hope of dragons, is now hated by his kind. When he is eventually released from his prison, the Queen is clear: while he may help protect the island from wraith attacks, he is no longer a prince of the realm. As he struggles to find his place in Vere Celene, visions of the past, the future, and tantalizing glimpses of Arcady still haunt him. If he steers the wrong path through fate’s storm, he may never be able to create a future where both humans and dragons live in harmony.

Arcady soon realizes that to survive the rising threats from both their old life and their new one, they must use every trick at their disposal—even magic stolen from a dragon they thought dead. And as time runs out before an ancient danger awakens, Everen must fight his way back to Arcady, earn their forgiveness, and learn what it truly means to be an Emberclaw.

Link to Pantomime Paperback (dunno yet if it's getting an exclusive edition--fingers crossed!)

"Pantomime is a fantastical, richly drawn, poignant take on a classic coming-of-age story . . . a vibrant tale told with surety and grace" — Leigh Bardugo

In a land of lost wonders, the past is stirring once more . . .

Micah runs away from a debutante’s life at home and joins the circus, harboring two secrets–one: he was born between male and female, and two: he may have powers last seen in mysterious beings from an almost-forgotten age.

Micah discovers the joy of flight as an aerialist, courting his trapeze partner, Aenea, and confiding in the mysterious white clown, Drystan. He finally feels free. But the circus has a dark side, and Micah’s past isn’t done with him.

Meanwhile, the strange 'ghost' of a woman with damselfly wings whispers to Micah that only he can help magic return to the realm, and he fears she may be right…

Micah has much to learn, and he must do it quickly—before his past and future collide, with catastrophic consequences.

[pupmkincake2000]

I've been thinking about possible hankcon AUs I've never actually seen... Just imagine

Noir Detective AU

Connor as a young, brilliant but uptight federal agent. Hank as a grizzled, burned-out detective who doesn’t want a partner.

They’re forced to work together on a case neither of them wants. Their clashing worldviews make everything harder, until the case breaks open and so does their emotional distance. Classic “enemies to reluctant partners to… maybe something else.”

Fantasy AU

Connor as a scholar, mage apprentice, or monastery scribe with rigid discipline. Hank as a fallen knight, exiled warrior, or mercenary with a drinking problem.

They’re sent on a quest together, maybe to defeat an ancient curse, guard a village, or find a missing artifact. Connor wants structure. Hank wants everyone to leave him alone. Cue arguments, slow trust, and long nights by firelight.

Dark Medieval AU

Connor as a monster hunter, emotionally detached, trained for efficiency. Hank as an herbalist, woodsman, or ex-soldier who understands people, not magic.

They travel together to stop dark creatures, cults, and political rot. Connor is quiet. Hank is blunt. Their growing bond becomes a question of who protects whom, and what makes someone human.

(it could be vice versa as well. Hank as a monster hunter, Connor as a herbalist etc. which fits them even more)

Mafia/Narcotics AU

Connor as an undercover cop working inside a crime syndicate. Hank as a disgraced former detective who knows how the system really works.

Connor is told to find dirt on Hank. But the more they interact, the more he realizes Hank isn’t corrupt, just broken. Dangerous secrets, moral gray areas, and blurred lines follow.

Academic AU

Hank as a university professor (literature, philosophy, criminology etc.) Connor as a grad student or research assistant with a spotless academic record and zero social ease.

They work on a project together, forced into the same orbit. Their connection isn’t some cliché “hot for teacher” thing, it’s two people, both isolated in different ways, learning how to connect.

Corporate Thriller AU

Connor as a cybersecurity analyst or forensic accountant. Hank as an internal investigator or ex-hacker turned security consultant (or something that just fits him more).

Together, they uncover corporate espionage or AI-related corruption. Cold efficiency meets jaded intuition. Mutual frustration turns into mutual respect.

Post-Apocalyptic AU

Connor as a medic, mechanic, or survivalist — calm and precise. Hank as a former cop, now one of the few who can keep people together.

They survive together, in a train convoy, forest outpost, or walled city. It’s not about dramatic declarations. It’s about sharing food, fixing things, and staying human in a broken world.

Historical AU (1940s–1970s)

Hank as a hardboiled PI. Connor as a government lawyer, war veteran, or journalist.

They team up on a case that exposes systemic injustice and in the process, confront their own alienation. Queer-coded, quiet, full of unsaid things and cigarette smoke.

Sci-Fi AU (but no androids)

Connor as a genetically engineered human, not artificial, but grown for perfection. Hank as military or intelligence assigned to monitor him.

Connor struggles with identity, not programming. Hank sees a person when others see an asset. Their bond builds not on rebellion, but choice and learning what “being human” really means.

And of course, they fall in love with each other in each of these AUs and live happily ever after! Or... at leas quite happily.

[taag-the-withering]

If you've seen my couple analysis posts from the past couple weeks you might have noticed that I have recently revisited this fandom after several years of not interacting. Back in 2021 before I eventually fell off the train I had crafted a rough idea for an AU about a completely unconventional and rarely mentioned character to be the wielder of the amulet. All the while reconstructing the TOA timeline as a partial fix it.

Well, since I've jumped back onto the train car in the past month or so, I decided to revisit that AU and refresh it... a lot. To the point that I have the first half of season 1 of Trollhunters entirely planned and the main ideas for the rest of Trollhunters and 3Below outlined in my head.

Anyway, if anyone actually bothered to read this far, then they would be wondering who I decided to be the lucky Trollhunter, so I'll just get to it.

Mary Wang. Mary Wang is the Trollhunter.

My intention with this AU is to deal with multiple things at once that I personally desire to address:

Firstly, focusing on the actual underutilized and underrated characters. Mary Wang, Darci Scott, and Shannon Longhannon are all characters that sit as unused beyond a couple small things with minimal plot significance, I would like to change that. Consider it a role reversal of sorts, with Mary, Darci, and Shannon replacing Jim, Toby, and Claire. Though I do not intend on downright ignoring our original Trollhunter trio either.

Shining spotlights on characters who I believe deserve more attention. This is technically code for me fleshing out the TOA villains more, properly building up to both redemptions and deaths. Not just the villains of course, several other characters whom have been reduced down to a few components by the overarching fanon I would like to fully address and break down into their complexities as well.

Giving 3Below more attention. The one thing I've noticed that is lacking when some AUs are crafted is downplaying the affect of 3Below. I consider this downplaying an attribute of TOA's sudden switch up from the fantasy of Trollhunters to the sci-fi of 3Below. I intend on making the transition more seamless and give both the Trollhunters and 3Below plots time to shine.

Worldbuilding galore. If there is one thing I love, it's worldbuilding. A lot of my desires for this AU stem from my desires to flesh out the world of TOA. I'm fixing the timeline, incorporating the books, using underused artifacts, and playing around with the magic system of TOA.

Fixing Wizards and ROTT. I don't care what people say, Wizards is not as well written as you like to think, and it was in fact the testing grounds for ROTT. I intend on keeping the timeline stable and properly fleshing out the Arcane Order and the subsequent final battle. Without unneeded time travel that ignores the character development of everyone (that goes for both Wizards and ROTT).

If you have paid attention to the TOA tag you may have noticed that @azure-za-raid made some lovely art of my redesigns a couple weeks back for my AU which I really appreciate!

This AU is technically still in the planning phase, and will be for the next while. Though I have begun to plan how exactly I will write and publish this eventually. My idea is to break it down into parts based on the current antagonist, and completely write that arc before publishing on ao3. Kind of like how Trollhunters S1 is broken down between Bular and Angor.

If there are any questions, feel free to send me an ask about it, I'm always happy to talk about things!

[insert-witty-user-name-here]

WIP Wednesday

Hello, it’s me- the angst fairy- back again with something needlessly angsty. I was reminded recently about a scene I’d deleted from an old fic of mine. No regrets about deleting, it was the right decision, but I was sad to cut it. B-15 deserves more character analysis. So sharing it now.

Tagging just a few folks who I don’t think will mind the angst but anyone else who sees this and wants to participate in sharing their art or writing- please do! 💚 (And please tag me in your posts so I don’t miss it) @loki-is-my-kink-awakening @lgwilt @dewdropreader

Deleted scene from a fic where Mobius is trying to ignore his trauma but the memories of those he’s pruned keep on coming. B-15 helps him through it. (I noticed on B-15’s Funko Pop that she tracked her kills on her helmet and decided, as I do, there’s an angsty story there.)

Verity stopped and opened a small door to their left, pulling Mobius inside an empty room.

“I thought you said we were running late to another meeting?”

“There’s no meeting,” she said. “Just looked like you needed a break from the briefing. Take a minute.”

Mobius nodded and let his head fall against the door behind him, relishing the feeling of cool metal against his skin. It was quiet. There were no glaring lights, no beeping machines, no questions he didn’t know the answer to. Mobius took a few steady breaths until the headache pounding in his head subsided. He opened his eyes to find Verity watching him closely.

“Thanks,” Mobius said, pushing himself from the door and straightening his tie. “I feel better. Don’t tell Loki he was right. He warned me that a meeting on numerical code methodology for new timelines would put me to sleep.”

He turned to share a laugh with Verity but her face didn’t show any amusement. Instead, she looked concerned.

“I don’t think this was as simple as you falling asleep in a meeting,” she said carefully.

Mobius stilled. He had hoped his episodes weren’t noticeable but he should have known he wouldn’t be able to keep them from Verity. She was smart. It’s why he named her Deputy Director.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She asked after a few moments of silence.

Flashes of a park on a sunny day, a couple laughing, a timestick in his hand, a scream of terror, and a case file— variants eliminated— sped through Mobius’ mind before they were gone.

“No… I don’t remember what I was thinking about,” Mobius answered honestly. It was probably for the best he didn’t remember.

Verity frowned. “You shouldn’t repress your memories.”

Mobius slumped back against the door with a groan. She was right. While they still didn’t quite understand what the TVA had done to them, they were beginning to understand how they could heal their broken minds. Mobius knew the steps a TVA worker should take when they felt their memories resurface —he’d help write the protocol— but it was time consuming. For an organization that existed outside time, Mobius sure felt they were constantly running out of it. He didn’t have time to practice the techniques he’d taught others.

“There are too many cases that need my attention right now,” Mobius said.

“You need to offload some of those. I keep telling you-”

“I know, I know. I will. I just need to get through this Mandarin case first.”

“And then?” Verity pressed.

“And then I’ll take a few days off and sort through some of this… stuff.

Verity gave a disbelieving huff.

“I will.”

A heavy silence fell between the two agents and Mobius looked at the room around them. They were in one of the storage rooms that used to hold confiscated variants’ possessions. Without the stolen artifacts filling the shelves, the room seemed hollow. Purposeless. Mobius didn’t know what he was supposed to do with it in the reallocation.

“You’re not the only one who’s struggling,” Verity whispered. Her voice was soft, so soft that even in the silence of the abandoned room Mobius hardly heard her. At first, he wasn’t sure she intended to speak the words out loud.

“That’s how I knew you were having an episode,” she continued, twiddling with the cufflinks on her new suit in an uncharacteristic show of nerves. “I get these… headaches sometimes. Everything blurs together and I can’t remember where or when I am. It’s like I’m lost in my memories or, no, it’s like I’m trapped… trapped by him again… like we never escaped.”

Verity clenched her eyes shut with a sharp inhale of breath as if she were trapped inside a memory right now and Mobius reached out, taking her hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze. He knew how terrifying it was to be stuck in your memories, to feel like you were back under his control. They may have defeated He Who Remains but he was still here. He always would be. There was no amount of running they could do to escape him entirely. It made Mobius feel weak. He hated thinking Verity felt the same.

“Did you know I used to track kills on my helmet?” Verity asked.

Mobius nodded. He remembered. His memories might be splintered but he remembered enough. He remembered what they were a part of.

“I hated that thing,” she scowled. “I hated that number printed on the side. The paint was fresh when I started but sometimes I swore I could see the etchings of another number. The number of whoever I replaced when they were deemed ineffective. I wondered how long it would be before they replaced me.

“I thought if I marked my helmet as my own, if I made it look different, I would feel better. They wouldn’t paint over it so easy. I thought if I pruned more than anyone else, I could prove to the Timekeepers that I was better than everyone else in my unit. That I would feel useful, good, like what I was doing mattered but-” Verity’s voice cracked and Mobius squeezed her hand tighter. “I only ever felt more angry. So, I pruned more hoping that feeling would go away. It never did. It just kept getting worse and worse and worse until…” Verity trailed off.

“Until Sylvie,” Mobius finished.

“Until Sylvie,” Verity agreed, wiping her eyes and pulling back with a soft smile on her face. “Sylvie showed me everything I lost and suddenly it all made sense. I knew why I hated that number. I knew why I woke up furious at the world, looking to punish anyone who got in my way. It’s because that number wasn’t my name. Who they made me wasn’t me.

“They took everything from us and while we can’t travel back in time and change what was done, we can change our future. We have the opportunity to fight for something we believe in now. Sylvie and Loki gave us that.”

Warmth spread through Mobius as the mention of Loki’s name. He looked down at the ring on his left hand and smiled, running his finger along the band again. He would never understand how he’d gotten so lucky; he would do everything in his power to be the man Loki believed him to be.

“You gave us this opportunity too,” Verity added. “When we burnt down our old TVA, you built a new one and you didn’t dictate a new purpose but rather showed us what a new purpose could be. We chose to follow you. We choose this life. And…” Mobius felt Verity give his hands a gentle squeeze. “You don’t need to carry it alone. We want to help you.”

Mobius carefully untangled his hands from Verity’s and took a step backwards. “I know.”

“Good,” Verity nodded with an air of finality. “At least let Loki help you. I don’t know what’s going on between you two but he’s started helping me with my cases.”

Mobius snorted. He could only imagine how that was going.

“It’s not funny, Mobius. He’s driving me nuts. You need to let him return to smothering you otherwise I might just send him to the Void without his TemPad.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” Mobius chuckled at Verity’s hollow threat. “I’ll talk to him. Now, come on. I think we both deserve a little treat after all this. Let’s see what Processing confiscated today.”

Verity hesitated. “Mobius, I don’t care how many different variations you force me to try, I’m not going to like any timeline’s Josta.”

“What?? After all that talk about hope and change. One day I am going to find you a Josta you like. But no, I actually wasn’t talking about Josta this time. I heard Processing just got back with a case full of strawberry margarita mix. If that interests you.”

Verity’s face lit up in a brilliant smile. “Now, you’re speaking my language. Lead the way, Director. Josta aside, I’ll follow you anywhere.”

I’ll follow you anywhere.

Mobius’ steps faltered as he swallowed over the lump of fear in his throat at the words. Verity and the entire TVA would follow him. They were depending on him to show them the way, to fix things and Mobius couldn’t let them down. He wouldn’t.

Okay, I’ll write something fluffy and cute for next time. I promise I do know how to write sweet things 😅

[tvckerwash]

@joltning I present to thee the elaboration requested:

When broken down to the bare essentials Wash and C.T fulfill the same function within the story, and the differences between them as characters mostly results from how the story was executed when it came to them fulfilling that function. 

For example, everybody (myself included) complains about how C.T exists solely as a plot device in the Freelancer Saga, but nobody complains about how Wash also exists solely as a plot device in Recovery One and Recollection. I mean Reconstruction is literally the ‘omg theres a plot!?!?!?!?” season of RvB, and without Wash there is no story. 

The main reason Wash isn’t perceived in the same way as C.T is due to the level of freedom the writers had when it came to telling the story they wanted to tell. The Blood Gulch Chronicles and Out of Mind set the foundations for Recovery One and Recollection, but it was through Wash that the lore of RvB was reconstructed into a cohesive story. The unexplainable was explained, the unelaborated was elaborated upon, and all the wacky hijinks and random bits and bobs of the previous seasons were tied together in a way that answered the question asked in episode one: Why are all of these idiots stuck in a canyon in the middle of nowhere while being separated into color coded teams that are fighting each other?

C.T however did not have the same level of freedom as Wash, and this is because of pfl’s nature as a prequel combined with the pacing of those seasons. We pretty much already knew everything about her that there was to know, so there was no point in hiding anything or taking it slow because of that, hence the painfully obvious foreshadowing. This approach to the Freelancer Sage, and C.T’s story is what leads to her essentially having the same arc as Wash, just reversed—or more accurately described; mirrored, like Chief and Arbiter in Halo 2.

A majority of the reversal and/or mirroring between them manifests in their personalities, which I actually talk about some here, but some examples of the phenomenon in regards to actual plot points are:

They are both introduced as recovery agents (or rather fake C.T, who was the real C.T at the time, was introduced as a recovery agent). Wash is a single agent recovering human technology from dead Freelancers, and he uses explosives to destroy the rest of the equipment to prevent information leaks. C.T is attempting to recover alien technology from a long dead civilization with the help of other aliens, and he uses explosives to make sure anyone who knows of their operation and presents a problem will be destroyed to prevent information leaks. 

We knew exactly who Wash was, who he worked for, and why he was reassembling the blues. We didn’t know who C.T was, who he worked for, and why he was fighting Tucker in the desert. 

Wash was shot in the back and survived, but failed to subdue the enemy. C.T was shot in the chest and died just as they were going to subdue the enemy.

In regards to the real C.T, some examples include:

The Meta was portrayed as the primary conflict for Wash, but in reality he had always been aiming for the destruction of Freelancer. On the flip side, C.T’s fight to take down Freelancer is portrayed as the main conflict, but in reality, while poorly explained, tracking down the alien artifacts seemed to be her real goal (which is not as insane as it sounds when you remember that Charon Industries was more aligned with the UNSC proper than pfl was). 

Wash never hinted towards his plan of taking out the Meta in Recovery One to South, or his plan for destroying Freelancer to the Reds and Blues until he had the perfect opportunity to strike, and by then he had built enough trust that they were willing to help him out despite his secrecy. If they weren’t, well, he knew what to say to change their minds. C.T however wasn’t exactly subtle with her thoughts and feelings, and she didn’t build any trust with the people around her, so when she finally defected—which didn’t take a genius to see coming—no one was willing to listen to her or take her at her word, and there was nothing she could say or do to change their minds except offering concrete evidence. “I’m starting not to trust you.” vs “I can’t trust you.”

This one isn’t a plot point, but I’m going to mention it anyway because I think it’s a nice example of this subtle yet obvious mirroring I’m talking about, and shows what I was trying to replicate in my blurb that spurred me to finally write this analysis:

Counselor: Agent Washington? Agent Washington? Washington: Sorry, what were you saying? Counselor: Were you thinking about Epsilon again, Agent Washington? Washington: No. Counselor: What happened with Epsilon was not your fault, Agent Washington. Washington: I didn't think it was. Counselor: We have safeguards for the unstable emotional patterns of an artificial intelligence. Sometimes these algorithms fail. Washington: Oh. So then it's your fault. Counselor: We prefer to think of it as no one's fault.

Vs:

Washington: It wasn't your fault, Connie. Connie: Easy for you to say. You didn't drop the ball. Washington: The ball got dropped. We were all there, it's everyone's responsibility. Connie: Dammit, why are you doing that? Washington: What am I doing? Connie: Making excuses for me. I'm not making excuses for myself...why are you?

All I've mentioned above is also why C.T’s relationship with the leader and the plot twist that the C.T in the desert wasn’t the real C.T are disliked by so many, as there was nothing to justify the sudden bait and switch like there was at the end of S6. I mean, considering we see both Tex and South use voice mods to sound like men, it reads as though that was supposed to be the case with C.T as well, which makes it feel like it was changed at the last second because everyone saw it coming.

This is an issue because A) There's nothing inherently wrong with being predictable—a good plot twist always has foreshadowing, even if it won’t be registered as foreshadowing until the twist happens in certain cases—and B) The story of the Freelancer Saga as a prequel was confined in a box created by the previous seasons, and all they were doing was connecting the aforementioned events to tie up a few loose ends and properly establish Carolina's driving force in present day S10.

[wibzenadarksiderwithasoftheart]

A game of giving Obi-Wan flowers

12.

As he had come to anticipate, he found a small bouquet of white tulips placed in a simple vase next to the chest where he kept his master's lightsaber and the long auburn braid that he himself had had to cut off. The memory of it still sends a wave of painful longing through him even now so many years later.

Over the years the sight of these flowers had become expected on this day and for a long time they had been an enigma to him, because, although many mourned the loss with him, he was puzzled by their symbolism of regret and a desire for forgiveness. Who could want forgiveness from him?

But it wasn't just the flowers he received.

Every year he found other gifts that over time had led him to a conclusion about who the sender could possibly be.

Small artifacts linked to the Force or pieces of ancient writings about the early Order were among them. Codes to the archive that had led him to writings and reflections on teaching of the Force leaning towards the gray Jedi, and even forgotten Sith texts that he had read with trepidation but which had given him some surprising insights.

Other gifts had been more luxurious, such as rare costly teas, exotic fruit or food items. Once it had been a chain of precious metal that later had allowed him and Anakin to escape a group of smugglers when they had used it as payment.

Several times he had received priceless flimsi books, on history or diplomacy, all with notes written in a stylish and elegant handwriting that he was convinced he had seen before.

After the war had broken out, he had received a com unit so encrypted that not even Anakin had managed to break it, nor had Ahsoka with her exceptional slicing skills been able to find its origin. But the messages he received had always led them safely out of what would otherwise have been fatal traps set by the Separatists.

It was an ongoing mystery that he believed he had a possible answer to, and if he was right, he had a highly unexpected ally.

*

You can also find it here

[bentosandbox]

The museum collab outfit?

so glad you asked now i can finally dump all the info i gathered for a good reason

during the LNY stream, a few minutes? after they revealed the biker chen skin they dropped this along with my jaw: a collab with the Nanyue King Museum that lasted not even 2 weeks lol (prob because LNY started from the 10th this year aka everything closes)

tl;dr historical museum/mausoleum in guangzhou (the closest china has to HK) with a lot of artifacts, and the collab highlights a few

the original PV for it if you want to hear some guy say how the tiger hook perfectly covers up the broken part of the jade dragon ornament and it looks like theyre fighting like a certain two and that they complement each other

i typed out a transcript so i could tl it and the lin commentary in..due time also here's a vlog from bili to live vicariously through

what lin commentary you ask. incidentally i also saw people asking 'why is Lin even in this the PV just kept mentioning tigers and dragons' well ok remember how her profile mentions she's a Yanese art history nerd enthusiast... there are qr codes on-site you can scan that will being you to a microsite? and they got her CN VA to narrate the descriptions!!! with comments!!!!!! here's a quick TL i did the other day as an example

so yea... she's basically the tour guide 🥹🥹🥹

chenswire and linchen photospots, why did they put swire all by her lonesome at the mausoleum

so. they had a small merch lineup for those who couldnt make it (half/ 3/4 body acrylic stands like the mooncake collab) but there is also a notebook....

WITH CONCEPT ART? OF THE OUTFITS INSIDE... they mention it in the video but they incorporated the artifacts into the design which is so so cool (their outfit silhouettes? are also based on tang-dynasty clothes iirc) BUT ALSO SEE... CHEN WITH PANTS.... i think she could lose one of the twintails but that's not important here so yeah cool historical-fantasy outfit with baggy pants vs cop outfit with funny tied up shirt and skin tight pants... no contest

[slipping-lately]

I can't stop thinking about this so now it's everyone's problem-

Sampo on multiple occasions has broken into Qliphoth Fort without being caught or seen. While he hasn't stolen anything he has taken photos of maps of the city, guard route's and similar things. He's even gone as far to sit on one of the tallest buildings and just watch the Silvermane's mill about and see what equipment everyone has. I wouldn't even put it past Sampo to somehow watch them train to learn the in's and outs of there fighting style so he can better escape them! If anyone ever seen him he's so well hidden one could mistake him for just an odd shadow or someone makeing sure the top of an building is up to code. Who knows, maybe on one or two occurrence Gepard has woken up at his desk to find that someone put an blanket or his jacket over his shoulders if he had fallen asleep. The only idea besides that which could tell him someone was in his office would be the lights turned off. After all the idea of Sampo Koski breaking into the fort is laughable, he wouldn't do that would he much less help him? Pssh Gepard just needs some actual sleep after being on the front lines.

Jokes on Gepard though, an few months later multiple things go missing which were found just left behind in very public places with an notes reading 'To my knowledge an fort shouldn't be so easy to break into! Any skilled criminal could just walts in and steal your artifacts and tools!' though the handwriting isn't from Sampo, the script is playful with looping lines and little smiling doodles unlike Sampo's delicate yet carefree cursive. Sampo himself swears up and down it wasn't him, even going as far to turn in files the public genuinely shouldn't get there hands on.

Please Anyone I will kill to roleplay something like this! I'll write Whatever route you wish for Sampo, If I can't roleplay I'll just keep writing out ideas like this I would adore to write out with someone 😅 Please anyone who writes Gepard hit me up

[foxes-that-run]

do you think Hits Different is haylor coded?

Hi, to me it is, though I think it is ambiguous as I think Taylor's feelings might have been. Aaron indicated it was an earlier song on Midnights. It was possibly written not very long after Renegade.

Timeline

Aaron mentioned it as one of the songs they wrote together, he mentioned it when saying they wrote High Infidelity in L.A. after Taylor saw Harry at the 2021 Grammy's. He mentioned The Great War also. (31 mins in Broken Record podcast)

I guess this somewhat depends on one's view of the Joever timeline and the Haylor aspects of Folklore. At that time Harry wrote As it was and LOML which are about moving on and there was a lot of reporting around OW.

Video

In this pretty unsettling short she wore an Opal, Taylor's worn Opals since 2014 including the Cardigan video and says 'Opal eyes' in Ivy.

Lyrics

I washed my hands of us at the club You made a mess of me I pictured you with other girls in love Then threw up on the street Like waiting for a bus that never shows You just start walkin' on They say that if it's right, you know Each bar plays our song Nothing has ever felt so wrong

Taylor has been a mess in:

All You Had To Do Was Stay: I’ve been picking up the pieces of the mess you made

Dancing With Our Hands Tied: I’m a mess but I’m the mess that you wanted

Illicit Affairs: Look at this godforsaken mess that you made me

Also the only other bus lyric is The 1: I thought I saw you at the bus stop, I didn’t, though.

Bars feature a lot on Reputation, so many associate them with Joe, (who she started dating after a lot of the album was recorded.) however to me most of those songs are Haylor.

Oh my, love is a lie Shit my friends say to get me by It hits different It hits different this time Catastrophic blues Movin' on was always easy for me to do It hits different It hits different 'cause it's you ('Cause it's you)

The Catastrophic blues, to me are most similar to Peace: "If your cascade ocean wave blues come." but I hear the lyric as Taylor is depressed.

'Movin' on was always easy for me to do' indicates Harry to me because, he is someone she hasn't been able to move on from because of the cyclical nature of it:

End Game "We tried to forget it, but we just couldn't" and "And I can't let you go, your handprint's on my soul"

DBATC: "Chandelier's still flickering here / 'Cause I can't pretend it's ok when it's not"

I used to switch out these Kens, I'd just ghost Rip the Band-Aid off and skip town like an asshole outlaw Freedom felt like summer then on the coast Now the sun burns my heart and the sand hurts my feelings And I never don't cry (no, I never don't cry) at the bar Yeah, my sadness is contagious (my sadness is contagious) I slur your name 'til someone puts me in a car I stopped receiving invitations

Taylor has also described Harry is irreplaceable, not a switchable Ken:

Question..?:"Cause I don't remember who I was / Before you painted all my nights / A color I've searched for since" and "Does it feel like everything's just like / Second best after that meteor strike

Ready for it: "And he can be my jailer, Burton to this Taylor / Every lover known in comparison is a failure"

Gold Rush: "And the coastal town / We wandered 'round had never / Seen a love as pure as it"

Finally the drunk, slurred name lyrics, (hard to slur Joe), and

Cruel Summer: I’m drunk in the back of the car and I cried like a baby coming home from the bar

Death By A Thousand Cuts: I get drunk but it’s not enough ‘cause the morning comes and you’re not my baby

I find the artifacts, cried over a hat Cursed the space that I needed I trace the evidence, make it make some sense Why the wound is still bleedin' You were the one that I loved Don't need another metaphor, it's simple enough A wrinkle in time like the crease by your eyes This is why they shouldn't kill off the main guy Dreams of your hair and your stare and sense of belief In the good in the world, you once believed in me And I felt you and I held you for a while Bet I could still melt your world Argumentative, antithetical dream girl

Joe's worn a few baseball caps, though Taylor has also referenced Harry's hats before. In early interviews Niall said he wore them to hide his hair in public, so he wears them a lot. Including this green beanie in the 22 MV.

Bleeding is a Haylor Theme

Trace the evidence / Wrinkle in time reminds me of Right where you left me, "They expected me to find somewhere / Some perspective, but I sat and stared"

Hair, Stare and Sense of belief describe Harry well:

Hair (Style: long hair, Shake it off: hella good hair, Gold Rush: Hair falling into place)

Stare (Style: daydream look in your eye, Delicate: look into your eyes, Exile: eyes add insult to injury, Gold Rush: Twinkling eyes)

Harry has a belief in the good in the world, Joe may too, we don't really know him.

Finally the Argumentative, antithetical dream girl - reminds me of Gold Rush "At dinner parties, I call you out on your contrarian shit". Harry describes Taylor in Sweet Creature "It's hard when we argue We're both stubborn, I know" Kiwi "Hard liquor mixed with a bit of intellect" and Woman "I told you, but I know you never listen."

I heard your key turn in the door down the hallway Is that your key in the door? Is it okay? Is it you? Or have they come to take me away? To take me away

Finally, hallways and doors both feature a lot in Haylor songs, here the muse has a key. I guess this also depends on a perspective of the pandemic time, I don't find it a stretch to think H had a key to Taylors home. As far as I wonder if she even has a literal key anymore...

Have they come to take me away reminds me of:

Wonderland: And in the end in Wonderland, we both went mad

Say Don’t Go: The waiting is a sadness fading into madness

Don’t Blame Me: "For you I would cross the line, I would waste my time, I would lose my mind" and "Don’t blame me, love made me crazy"

I Wish You Would: This mad, mad love makes you come running

Blank Space: Magic, madness, heaven, sin

[dixieconley]

What if Palpatine slips up and Fox discovers the Sith code? And goes, huh, that looks like a sensible set of rules. What then?

Peace is a lie, there is only suffering. Through suffering, I gain strength. Through strength, I gain power. Through power, I gain victory. Through victory, my chains are broken. The Force shall free me.

Fox doesn't know *when* he found out about The Code. He didn't know about it when he left Kamino and he doesn't remember hearing it from anyone afterward. The knowledge is just *there*.

But.

It just makes So. Much. Sense. The first part (Peace is a lie, there is only suffering) is objectively true and the rest? Lays out a path for success. And it totally works! (He gets The Code put up on one of the walls of their HQ. Something that useful? Needs to be *shared*.)

Instead of being beaten down by the suffering he and his men experience, he can follow the Code and allow it to strengthen them. It's them against the Senate, against the whole galaxy even, maybe, and once he's decided to Do Something? Well. That conviction *is* power. As is the degree of control the Corries can exercise over the Senate, the very nerve center of the Republic, should they choose to do so.

And if the Code says to use that power to gain victory? Well then it's just a matter of deciding what victory looks like, isn't it? That victory involves every being who ever abused a Corrie getting a blaster to the face? Shouldn't have been a bunch of chain gilding brother raping shabuir'e, should you? Karma motherfucker.

Fox kills Palpatine personally. (Something prompts him to do it while the chancellor is sleeping. Fox trusts his instincts. And he's a soldier. He's in favor of effectiveness, not grandstanding or torture in the name of revenge.) That after the fact the Corries discover Palpatine was a force user with lightsabers, a direct connection to the Separatists, multiple trillion credit accounts and the underpinnings for a galactic empire? Score!

But -- the Jedi are appalled.

Mace: This is the Sith code. You have to renounce it. Fox: Respectfully, sir (not at all respectful), if you want us to do something else, then make it so that it isn't true. Fox: Our lives have been suffering from decanting on. Of my batch, I'm the only one who wasn't killed for a cosmetic defect. I've gotten four hours of sleep out of the last 72 and all of it was napping while standing up during my Senate shift. Fox: You want me to make a different choice? Then make it so we're not suffering. Mace: That code is *wrong*. Fox: ::looks between him and the dead architect of the war:: Seems accurate to me. Mace: ::massaging nose:: Causing others to suffer is wrong. Fox: He didn't suffer. One shot through the heart, then a second through the head just to be sure. He didn't feel a thing. Unfortunately. Mace: ::growling:: Quinlain. Kriffing. Vos. You have a lot to answer for.

And that? Was a big mistake.

Because Fox? Has Opinions about Jedi. He's okay with them taking custody of the Sith artifacts, because that's *their job*. But individual Jedi? Plo Koon? Universally good. Obi-Wan Kenobi? Decent fellow, but Fox will shiv him if he breaks Cody's heart. Anakin Skywalker? Needs to be drowned. Shaak Ti? Useless and ineffectual. Windu? Well, he's not exactly been making any friends with his attitude, but he's the bane of Skywalker's existence, so Fox is inclined to give him some slack.

But if Windu's going after Vos? The one Jedi that's been anything like good to the Guard? Well... Fox has a lot of blackmail. And he's creatively vindictive. So:

Fox: If you try to punish Vos, you'll regret it. Mace: ::getting out lightsaber:: I won't let you kill me. Fox: ::disdainful eyebrow, scoffing laugh:: You wish. ::lifts comm to his mouth:: I'm just going to make sure that every theater on Coruscant is closed. Permanently. Mace: You monster.

Without an immediate physical threat, Mace has no grounds for lightsabering Fox. And Fox? Has employed his newly empowered Corries (and newly depopulated Senate) to implement Palpatine's empire. With himself in charge.

And of course Fox has gotten his hands on Palpatine's lightsaber. Thorn: Weren't you supposed to turn that over to the Jedi? Fox: I did. Thorn: Then what's it doing here? Fox: There were two. They got one, I got one. Thorn: ...do they know that?

That an empire run by a clone may not be what the galaxy as a whole wants? Not really something Fox cares about one way or the other. He wants to protect his people, starting with the Guard, then the rest of the Vode, then those they care about. That's it. And he has the power to do so, so he's going to make it happen.

But everyone who isn't a Corrie? Has no clue what Fox is up to. And so, once Fox has gotten far enough in his plans that his Empire is a reality and everyone else catches on to the new order of things:

Cody, Rex and Wolffe bursting into Emperor Fox's office: Cody: We can't let you kill our Jedi. Fox: ::blandly:: I'm not going to kill your Jedi. ::looks at Rex:: Yours, maybe, if you don't get him off Coruscant. Rex: ...that's fair. Wolffe: What? Buir said you follow the Sith code. Sith *kill* Jedi. Fox: ::rolls eyes:: I found a set of instructions that worked and I followed them. Does reading a blaster maintenance manual make you a blaster? Or an engineer?

And he's not wrong. So the commanders (and Mace) talk to the Council, who decide they want to see Fox personally. And, again, Fox has nothing against the Jedi (yet -- he has nothing against them *yet*), so he goes.

Council: What are your demands? Fox: As long as I'm emperor, whenever a Jedi goes on a mission, they're accompanied by the Vode. Council: That's it? You follow the Sith code?! Fox: Yes? I'm a dictator, not an asshole. I have no intention of hurting the Jedi. Yoda: The Sith, evil are. Fox: On the other hand, if you're going to define wanting to be free as evil I can always change that. Fox: And *unlike* you, my government will be actively freeing slaves. So much for Jedi being good, hmm? ::micdrop::

He never relaxes the requirement that they be accompanied by the Vode -- because Jedi, the good Jedi anyway -- are stupidly self-sacrificing and deserve to be protected like an endangered species. (The bad Jedi? Like Krell? Can be Dealt With like everyone else who's harmed a vod. Looking at you, Kaminoans.)

The merely annoying Jedi? Those can be dealt with more creatively. Mace intelligently backed down. Yoda and Anakin however face constant annoyance. (Really, from a certain point of view, Fox is doing Amidala a *favor* matchmaking her with Thorn.)

Vos: You know, you *are* making someone suffer. Fox: Yes? Jedi: Anakin. Fox: I'm not drawing strength from his suffering or whatever it is you think I'm doing. Fox: I just hate him. Vos: …that's fair.

Fox ends up leading the first *successful* Sith empire, handing it over to Thorn and Padme's daughter in a peaceful exchange of power when she gets old enough. While the Vode have settled all over the galaxy (and a surprising number on Kamino), Fox chooses to retire to one of Palpatine's many many estates to live out his remaining years in peace, accompanied by a remarkably large portion of the rabidly loyal former Coruscant Guard.

And Vos. Because despite everything Fox has done to normalize the Sith code as a way *out* of suffering, the Jedi are still close-minded judgmental religious fanatics who hold the fact that Vos fell against him even though they *ordered* him to do it. Even though he clawed his way back while they tried to tell him it was impossible. (And if Fox has plans already drawn up for a Force-sensitive Sith order? Well, Fox has a *lot* of plans.)

And if Vos being with him means that Cody visits more often so that Kenobi can see his best friend? Well, Fox never minds getting to spend time with his Vode.

He'll talk Kenobi into being the grandmaster of the new Sith order eventually.

[splynter]

Iterator oc disorganized ramble because my brain is in a bizarre mood rn

It’s about this guy. Husher

Hushed Breaths Between Bladed Ribs was an early generation iterator built specifically to self-heal and self-improve the more he worked and was injured. This resulted in his architect team abusing the self improvement system, much like killing the ouroboros card in Inscryption to build up its stats. Many parts of him would be broken or mishandled just so he could regenerate stronger

Husher’s main task, like most iterators, was to find a solution to the Great Problem, and any drift from that task was punished severely. Chat forums were prohibited, his citizens rarely interacted with him, and his main supervisor wasn’t anything except cold. All he did was iterate and repair himself and iterate more, all the while the futility of his existence bled into his hands.

Eventually he began.. breaking his own code in an attempt to free himself from the ancients’ constraints. He looped taboos in simulations until they broke down and were eliminated from his programming. This left him with irreparable code corruption and artifact distortion, which severely impaired his perception of reality. The price of freedom is vast and permanent

His supervisor told him to find the solution in any way possible, thus Husher did. Once he broke the “do not harm ancients” taboo in his system, he seized every ancient in his city and held them captive so that he could cycle loop them as revenge coated in an experiment. His entire superstructure locked down, he destroyed his bridges to the river banks, and no one could get in or out. Every day for years he killed them, documented the results, watched for any sign of a solution,

He never found one

For one reason or another, Husher one day released all of his citizens before the ascension. Many were mentally destroyed and fled without a second thought. None could articulate what had happened to them because while in captivity they weren’t able to have a completed thought before they were cycled again. However, a small cluster of ancients managed to retain some semblance of mentality once released. And what did they do with it?

They condensed Husher down to only his puppet, tore him from his superstructure, and shoved him into a metal shredder

He barely survived, scarred and ruined, and fled from both them and his superstructure

Needless to say he’s a lil fucked up

[kell-5]

Idea "Living Artifact"

Disclaimer: this is just an initial idea where the reader is a living artifact of the knights, and maybe the knight himself, don't judge strictly, it's just an idea that instantly came to my mind that I decided to write down immediately so as not to forget, the reader is gender neutral,the reader here is a tall and massive bot

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Imagine a universe in which knights do exist, but they were sought in the wrong place and at the wrong time. It is a distant, cold, and dark planet covered in ash and everything, everything is ruined there, only three statues remain holding swords high above their heads, two statues have their heads broken, only the one in the middle is whole and almost undamaged, covered only in ash.

Behind the statues is a half-collapsed building, in the middle of which there is a hidden room, and in that room there are three stasis capsules, two of which are broken and damaged very badly, only the one in the middle remains whole and almost undamaged, the capsule has a silver coating that is hidden behind a layer of dust and ash. There is no drain in the capsule to see who is inside or even what, on the capsule there is an old lock with a code in the old Cybertronian language.

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Surprisingly, today on Lost Light it is very quiet and calm, even a little boring, but still there is a feeling in the air of something ... that is straining everyone, a feeling of something that will happen very soon and very soon

.

.

.

It happened that the ship was flying not far from this planet forgotten by Primus, and it caught some signal, a Cybertron signal.

No matter how much I wanted to, my curiosity was strong, there was an order to stop on this planet. The ship landed not far from the statues.

.

.

Rodimus stood in front of this statue and looked at it, thoughts flashed through his processor, was it really something related to the knights, but what happened to this planet too, why is it all in ashes and soot, here and there even smoke was still floating somewhere in the air, between the statues the road to the building stretched.

.

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It was difficult to get into the building, but inside there was also ash but mixed with dust, everyone who got inside was only two, as you guessed it, Rodimus and Drift, after they entered the building the door to the building automatically closed, a passage opened under their feet and they fell to the bottom, it's good that there was nothing dangerous at the bottom but the dents remained one hundred percent

"Damn ..." - Rodimus cursed under his breath, getting up from the ground

Drift followed Rodimus's example and also got up, they looked up, it was high up, it would take a long time to climb. Drift looked around the room, the room seemed empty at first glance, until .... he noticed a strange pattern on the back wall, he decided to come closer.

"M? What are you doing?" - Rodimus asked

"Yes, I see" - Drift's tone was somewhat tense "and why did we get here"

"The signal pulled us"

"I know, just..." Drift didn't have time to finish when he stood up for something, he looked down and saw a slab under his feet. He stood up and went down a little, the patterns on the wall began to spin and a passage opened.

Rodimus was the first to decide to go inside.

"Wait, maybe you shouldn't do this?" Drift said, following Rodimus.

"It won't get any worse," Rodimus assured and went inside, as soon as Rodimus went inside, the automatic light turned on, in this next room there were just these capsules.

.

.

.

Rodimus and Drift were able to get out of there, and they also managed to take the whole and healthy capsule.

.

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.....after several attempts, the capsule opened, and in the capsule was ....a sword?....seriously ...but this sword was not simple, but silver with a black handle and a red stone in the handle, the sword was very large, almost as tall as Rodimus

"Well ...this is also a good find, some kind of artifact" someone said

To be honest, Rodimus already expected that there would be something or even someone in this capsule, not this sword, what should he do with this sword

.

.

.

The sword was shown to the Perceptor to clarify what kind of artifact it was or just an ordinary sword, the inspection continued until the Perceptor touched some detail, then the most interesting thing began .... the sword transformed into a tall, massive bot

"Where am I?" A question was asked that the Perceptor could not make out both due to shock and also because it was not a modern Cybertronian ....

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(I'm still alive so my posts will appear from time to time)

(English not my native language)