#but then give up near the end and make something far less interesting up instead

[fieryncbles]

Gosh, I'm so in love with Castle (the show & the man) but the fact that sometimes I make up better endings for cases than the writers is beginning to frustrate me

[natalievoncatte]

These would be Lena’s last thoughts. Though she was only dimly aware of that, she still felt a pang of pride that in her final moment, she was more worried for someone else. What more perfect way to reject her Luthor upbringing than to pass from this vale full of genuine concern for another?

The morning has been going so well. Lena was set to speak at some local city event- L-Corp was sponsoring it. A fair in a park, nothing major or especially newsworthy. She was to give a little speech about girls in STEM and announce a grant program to fund a charter school in a building near the park. The speech would last five minutes, she’d mingle a bit and hang out with some kids, and then she and Kara had the day to themselves. Kara, of course, was here to “cover” the event for CatCo.

The reporter milled about in the crowd, dressed in a long-sleeved pink plaid button-down that was far too form fitting, making her biceps and muscular, taut belly even more lickable than usual, and a pair of dark brown slacks that hugged every curve of those perfect legs of hers.

Something had changed between them. Their hands brushed when they walked. Kara has grown more free, more bold, with her touches. Hugs lingered. Their eyes no longer slipped away when they met. Kara had developed a simultaneously frustrating and exciting habit of staring at Lena’s lips in a way that made her turn to jelly.

Kara spotted her from the crowd and smiled, grinning so beautifully and so happily that Lena was struck speechless for an instant, rooted to the spot. Kara was the most beautiful woman that Lena had ever met, and to be on the receiving end of a smile like that made her feel dreamlike, a little floaty. She couldn’t help but grin back, and when Kara’s cheeks tinted pink, Lena nearly died.

Metaphorically. The real death came a moment later.

She motioned Kara up onto the stage, hoping to introduce her to the schoolgirls in the audience and maybe spark some interest in journalism. Kara happily joined her, taking up position beside Lena.

Lena laid out her speech and cleared her throat. She’d practiced this. She was ready. She smiled at the audience and then six men milling around in the crowd pulled out submachine guns and sprayed her with bullets.

Titling back, Lena was surprised how slow it all happened. She watched it with a curious detachment, only belatedly realizing that she was being pulled by strong arms. Kara’s arms. Kara was shielding her with her body, turning her back between Lena and the assassins.

Oh God, Lena thought. Oh god no, please not her. Take me instead.

As they so often did, her prayers went unheeded. She watched, in horrifying detail, as the bullets raked Kara’s back, throwing up tiny bits of shredded pink flannel, expecting to feel them punch through Kara’s body and into her own.

She should have told her. Why didn’t she tell her how she-

Kara did not bleed.

Kara lowered Lena tenderly to the ground and stood to her full height. Her glasses, one of the earpieces snapped off by a bullet impact, tumbled from her face. The tattered remains of the back of her shirt gave way and a flowing red cape spilled out, billowing in the wind.

In a single motion, she grabbed what was left of her clothes and tore them loose, exposing the rest of her uniform. Lena’s would-be assassins were scrambling to reload. They were too late.

Kara said nothing. Her eyes blazed a furious white. Lena had never known her beautiful face could hold such fury.

It was over in seconds. Kara disarmed them and crushed their weapons together in a smoking ball with her bare hands, the metal too hot for a mortal human being to touch from the pressure alone.

It took less than a minute for the guards and police to swarm in. It felt like an eternity as Kara walked up the stage steps again, her uniform boots thudding on the wooden planks as she approached Lena in silence.

Lena looked up with tearful eyes and choked out a whimper. Kara hesitated, then knelt, flinching as if expecting rebuke and that only made Lena cry harder. She reached out and Lena climbed into her arms, allowing herself to be lifted.

All the other times she’d flown with Supergirl, she either hated it or had been unconscious or terrified. This was different. Kara kept herself almost upright, clutching Lena carefully to her chest, letting Lena hide by tucking herself into the crook of Kara’s neck.

The flight was brief, and they touched down on Lena’s balcony. Kara carried her inside, still holding her tight.

Kara placed Lena on the sofa, very gently, and disentangled herself. Lena clutched wherever she could, refusing to let go. Her limbs trembled and every part of her was shaking, her heart pounding in her chest.

Lena thought Kara might leave as she pulled away, might run or retreat, fearing the consequences of her lie. Lena might be angry later but right now… Kara was okay. Nothing else mattered except that Kara was okay.

“I thought they were going to kill you too,” Lena choked out.

Kara reached up and unclasped her cape, sweeping it around Lena with a flourish, so that the red cloth was tucked around her like a blanket. It surprised her with how warm and soft it was. Fitting for Kara.

“Let me get you some water.”

Lena clutched the glass in both hands like a child as she drank. Kara took the glass and slid under the cape with Lena, swaddling them both in its warmth. Lena clung to her like she might vanish if she let go.

“I was so scared that I’d never get to tell you,” Lena whispered.

“That’s my line,” said Kara.

Lena huffed. “I meant that I’d never get to tell you that I’m in love with you.”

“So did I,” Kara whispered, the confession tickling Lena’s lips as they kissed.

[bumblingbabooshka]

I really wish Tuvok & Harry's relationship had been explored more. (The moments they have together are funny, they're both people who have more personality than others might think) Even if the writers would have rather choked on their own tongues than have two non-white characters on screen developing a relationship that didn't have to do with a white character - I can accommodate that to some extent. Their relationships to Janeway are interesting to think about! Harry is a Gold Standard Ensign who Janeway is shown to favor a lot. She outright states that she cares about him more deeply than she does the rest of the crew and views him almost symbolically as a ray of light and hope. A shining example of a bright-eyed (ever obedient) Starfleet officer who can do no wrong.

Thinking about this compared to her reaction to Tuvok going against her orders in 'Prime Factors'. She is again extremely surprised and uniquely hurt by this betrayal. She's upset with B'Elanna as well but then dismisses her and talks to Tuvok alone.

Again, she positions Tuvok as different from the rest of the crew and almost as a symbolic presence or a tool more than a person. That isn't to say I think she doesn't think of Harry or Tuvok as people but more about how having a working relationship as well as a personal one within the system they're in is difficult and blurs some strange lines. To Janeway, Harry & Tuvok are her friends and people she cares about/cares for but their obedience and usefulness to her is part of what makes them so valuable. She needs them to listen to her orders and put their own personal feelings aside if she's going to command as captain which is more difficult to do the closer you feel to somebody. (As captain you might feel less inclined to put them in danger or more inclined to give leeway. As an officer you might feel more inclined to speak up, be insubordinate, or less likely to challenge the captain when it is expected you do so.) I imagine that for Tuvok it's easier to deal with these boundaries and hard lines which might be difficult to walk for others. He's Vulcan for one, for another he's been in Starfleet and known Janeway for several decades and lastly, he just has a personality which seems to do well with rules and hard lines. He also seems to have a unique devotion to Janeway herself which we can see in episodes like 'Prime Factors' and 'Equinox' which goes further than the typical obligation to a captain. Also, in certain episodes you can see that Tuvok is used to being listened to by Janeway in a way that puts him above other crewmen. When Chakotay chooses not to listen to him in 'Twisted' he goes so far as to argue with him about it. It's interesting to compare Harry's Not Listening to Orders here to him doing something similar in 'Resolutions'. In 'Resolutions' it's against Tuvok and for the captain - though he's going against her explicit orders. For these reasons, his near mutiny is not treated as flagrant insubordination and instead more heartwarming by both the narrative and, most notably, Janeway herself. She doesn't have a harsh word to say against Tuvok or Harry in the end. I like that Harry's a passionate person. I like that he has trouble sitting still and accepting things if he thinks there's another less devastating road to take. I would say that besides Janeway herself he's the one most dogged about his attempts to get everyone home and he, like her, means everyone. Perhaps even more idealistically than she herself.

It can be argued that they're following two different philosophies, both centered on the captain. Tuvok is following Janeway's order that they not contact the Vidiians while Harry is following her determination to do everything possible to get every member of their crew back home. To Tuvok, Harry is grossly insubordinate and disobeying Janeway's order and to Harry, Tuvok's cruel obstinance goes against her spirit. Going back to their relationship, I think it would be interesting to explore how they both deal with feeling so close and so special to someone that they will always (as long as they're working together) be at a distance from. In some ways, their dynamic with Janeway will never be truly equal. How do you deal with a relationship that's stated by the captain herself to be special and which you view as important, different, but still necessitates you pushing your own individuality aside whenever it goes against her? In addition to all this it's notable that both Harry & Tuvok have the strongest connection to Family Back Home. Even Janeway doesn't bring up Mark as a driving force as often as Harry does his parents or the expansive concept of the crews' families back home. It's an interesting similarity between them, they're both so firmly tethered to the alpha quadrant. They're the ones who have people waiting eagerly for them - in the end even Janeway doesn't have Mark anymore but Harry's parents and Tuvok's family will always be waiting for them to return. Also, I just think that Harry and Tuvok have the potential to be so funny together and so unintentionally destructive. They could get away with so much shit that no one else could in a million years and they don't even have troublemaking intentions. So yeah, I wish their relationship had been explored more. Harry is who I perceive to be Tuvok's first friend on Voyager. Tom declares himself a friend of Tuvok's but there's no indication Tuvok reciprocates that, He and Neelix are more frenemies, He and Kes are more mentor-mentee, He and Janeway were friends before all this and with the others he's mostly shown to have a somewhat to outright tense professional dynamic. Harry's the first and only person I can remember at this moment who he seems to have a non-adversarial and fully reciprocal friendship with, though it's not focused on. Harry is the first person who's able to slip past Tuvok's barriers and form a friendship with him (-points to a sign labeled 'Janeway parallels, Harry for captain'-). They both have people in the alpha quadrant they miss terribly and who're missing them. They both doubtlessly feel that drive to return to them (unique on Voyager, to have people rather than just the general familiarity of home to return to). They both have special relationship with Janeway and they both have more to them than being obedient and good. They're funny, they have bite and pride and hidden passions. They've both had trouble with love. Scene where Harry and Tuvok are working on something late at night. There's a radio present, conspicuously, but it's off. Harry begins to complain about how he's missing sleep and subtly making digs about how he hasn't been promoted despite how much he does and Tuvok reprimands him. Harry is apologetic. Silence. Tuvok brings up however the captain's decision making can be difficult to parse at times... and then makes a subtle dig about how Chakotay as the first officer instead of him is an interesting choice. Harry grins and makes a comment about how Chakotay would have let him play music while they worked. Tuvok makes an exasperated face like 'this again?' and says it's exactly that sort of thing which makes Chakotay- and then Chakotay comes in and Harry has to struggle not to laugh as Tuvok Vulcanspeaks his way perfectly through not answering his 'What were you talking about?' question.

[d4rk-x-w0lf-17]

Hi! I've read your ectoham bad end!au and I found it kinda interesting. Would you mind if I shared with you a small contribution to this au, if you are interested?

Basically, it would delve into the consequences Dan's tinkering with the timeline and Randy's abuse at Dan's hands has had on Danny and Randy psyche.

Like, let's imagine that Danny manages to fix things and restore the original timeline, preventing Dan from existing, and that randy is restored to his fourteen years old self, instead of being eighteen or twenty two years old. Unfortunately, Randy's memories with Dan in that alternative future didn't get erased with the rest of the timeline, and he has veritable memories of four or more years being Dan's pet and boy toy, with everything that entailed: the abuse, the torture, the possible sexual assault.....

And that breaks him. Randy, the fluffy ball of sunshine and rainbows ends up absolutely traumatized of everything he went through as Dan's prisoner, and, as you said, developed Stockholm syndrome and codependency to his captor, something that doesn't disappear when the original Danny rescues him and makes everything return to its original state.

At first, Randy tried to shrug it off with his typical antics, but that doesn't last that much and he finds increasingly difficult to bring himself to pretend. What's worse, his time with Dan has made Randy have mixed feelings towards Danny. He still loves the ghost boy with all his heart, but now these feelings are mixed with the dread he harbored towards Dan, which makes Randy fall into old behavioral patterns when he's around Danny.

Because, although Dan was cruel, he could also act all lovingly and caring when he wanted, specially when Randy pledged to his wishes, which meant that Dan would give Randy treats when he was a "good boy" and behaved accordingly. After all, victims of abuse that have a toxic relationship abusers often feel that, when their abuser punishes them, it's somehow the victim's fault. So now Randy, everytime he's near Danny, acts in a similar manner when around Dan, which means that Randy tried to be as complacent and less obtrusive as possible, which translated to his boisterous and cheeky nature being mostly snuffed out.

However, Danny soon picks up the signals that something isn't quite right around Randy, mainly because, despite Danny not being the most empathetic person (that's Randy's forte, since he's far more extroverted) his time with Randy has made him become more aware of how people truly feels, so it doesn't take a long time for Danny to notice that randy doesn't look at him in the eyes any more, or that he shivers and gets stiff every time Danny holds his hand, and, of course, randy doesn't crack nearly as many jokes as he used to.

Danny eventually confronts randy about the issue, fearing that Randy doesn't love him anymore, because Danny didn't quite realize the full damage of Dan's actions and only assumed that randy would only be freaked out by his evil alter ego being big and scary. The issue is, Randy still loves Danny, but everytime he sees Danny, he also sees Dan, and the trauma inflicted by Danny and Vlad's fusion makes Randy increasingly difficult to dissociate one from the other, which translates to a mix of fear, revulsion, adoration and dependency.

Upon finding out how much Randy was hurt by Dan, to say Danny gets absolutely furious would be an understatement, but this time, instead of ruminating on his own feelings, he does his best to be the anchor Randy was always to him, because randy was always a source of support for Danny, and Danny wants to reciprocate, so Danny tries to be as supportive and patient as possible.

However, Danny also has his own problems, the discovery of the full extent of Dan's abuse towards Randy takes its toll on Danny psyche, since although Danny had always had an ambivalent relationship with his ghost powers, finding out what randy went through causes a spurt of bitter self-loathing to rise within Danny, which makes him to blame himself for Randy's actual condition. After all, Danny can't be sure that the abuse inflicted by Dan was all Vlad's half, otherwise, his own half would have refrained itself from hurting Randy so much, which makes him question wether he's a good person at all.

Also, he feels that he's losing randy with each passing day, as they are becoming increasingly distant, and although Danny starts to ponder wether he should break up with Randy, so that the distance will heal Randy's emotional scars with Danny being out of the picture, the feelings he harbors towards the purple haired boy, and the void he feels everytime he tries to imagine his life without Randy, whom he loves so very fucking much, makes Danny cry himself to sleep in his bed every night.

At the end, they remain together, and they manage to support each other, but the process of recovery is incredibly difficult, and it involves many, many sessions of therapy with jazz, which almost always end up with both of them hugging each other and crying their eyes out.

So, what do you think? Would it serve for a fanfic or what?

THE FACT THAT YOU MANAGED TO SUMMARIZE MY EXACT THOUGHTS OF THE DYNAMICS DESPITE MY BRAIN BEING DOO DOO AND REFUSING TO GET THE PROPER WORDS OUT IS INCREDIBLE

i've been trying to continue working on the AU, but i was just so consumed by different fandoms and my eventual job that it was difficult to make time for it

if i ever decide to abandon the AU, i'm more than happy to give to someone who knew what my brain was thinking at the time

[whymustyouhurtmeinthisway]

Sonic IDW 67 was pretty good, I liked it a lot. No Surgeamy hints unfortunately, and the imposter siblings getting hired by Clutch instead of being a third party's kinda lame (though I'm betting there's a good chance they'll end up rebelling against him). Something I did like a lot was Surge's attitude throughout the whole thing:

Despite seeming like she'd be a terrible actor, she sells it wonderfully by not trying to avoid suspicion. She knows Sonic and co. will be suspicious of her no matter what, so trying to act all buddy-buddy with them would probably make them way more confrontational about her and Kit's intentions. The attitude she instead chooses is less "I've had a change of heart, I want to be a hero and change the world now" and more "Yeah living in Starline's old shack blew chunks and we knew you suckers were dumb enough to let assholes like us live here if we asked, so here we are" which is much more believable (and for good reason, as that's basically the truth of their situation give or take a couple important details). Throughout the entire tour she's constantly pestering Sonic about how letting them in was a bad idea, saying stuff like "Man you've really built up a nice place. It'd be a shame if someone burned it down". When he brings up introducing Surge and Kit to Whisper and the rest of the Diamond Cutters and Amy says that might not be the best idea, Surge's response is basically "What? No, I'm sure Sonic knows exactly what he's doing, this'll go fiiiiiiiine. C'mon big shot, let's see you try to sell them on me, this'll be fun."

Her scene with Whisper was especially interesting, I loved it. The last interaction Surge had with Whisper was beating the shit out of her and kidnapping all her wisps to use as living batteries, so she knew Whisper'd be the most distrustful of anyone there (further increased by the fact that she's much less forgiving than all the other resistance members in the first place). Surge handled the seemingly impossible task of getting Whisper to even slightly trust her the best way possible: make no attempt to do that at all, and in fact tell her she shouldn't. Upon hearing Whisper's flat out refusal to accept Surge and Kit's redemption, Surge bursts out laughing, hands her her wispon, and goes something like "Finally! You're the first one to show a little sense around here! The rest of these schmucks would trust a bear trap if it looked sorry enough for snapping off the first leg, but I can tell you wanna kill me right here and right now. I like you. Here's your gun, if I stay here you could aim it at the back of my head as long as you want. I don't blame you. I encourage you." I love this bit of writing, and it's a genuinely brilliant strategy from Surge, going "You're a lot smarter than everyone else here for wanting to kill me, if you let me live in your base I'll be really easy to kill if you want to." is probably one of the few ways on earth to convince someone who wants you dead to let you live very near them. Also, through flattering her on her superior sense of reason, Surge subtly makes Whisper like/trust her just a tiny bit more, and I feel like she could slowly but surely build onto that more and more until she eventually ends up winning Whisper over. I'm sure her and Kit won't be "undercover" for very long but if they were really in it for the long haul I could totally see that happen. Maybe she inherited Sonic's natural ability to make friends with even one's worst enemies, except she goes about it in a much more fucked up way.

Finally, I really liked the one moment of hesitation Surge has upon hearing that the Resistance wouldn't give her and Kit a single order if they didn't want them to. Though she fully came with the intention of maliciously taking advantage of Sonic and the rest of the Resistance's kindness, she hesitates upon hearing how far that kindness goes. In Surge and Kit's eyes, there hasn't been a single person in their life who doesn't see them as

A: Dangerous targets to kill, or

B: Powerful tools they can use to use to their advantage.

Hell, they know that even the partnership they're in at that very moment with Clutch is an example of B and they still accepted it. But then, for the first time in their life, they're offered a home of their own with a solid roof and good food, rehabilitation and reintroduction to the rest of society, an actual normal life for the first time they can remember, all of it for nothing in return on their part. Amy tells them the Resistance helps everyone in need out of the kindness of their hearts and (though they always appreciate more volunteers) not a single person is required to anything to repay their help, it's all free. For a brief moment you can see Surge drop the shithead mannerisms and genuinely consider the proposition. Her internal monologue isn't shared with the audience, but I imagine it must be very conflicted. She then regains her composure and moves on with the tour as before, but I imagine that moment's gonna affect her heavily in the issues to come, and I'm very excited to see how that plays out.

Anyways, good issue all around, can't wait to read the next one.

[jagged1]

Tangled Bits

Fandom: Outlast Rating: Gen Characters: Eddie Gluskin/Waylon Park Summary: Knitting is binary and Waylon is a sappy nerd. Contains: Sap and fluff. Word Count: ~900 AO3 link

Eddie’s never been shy about sharing his latest project, but Waylon has never been able to understand much about what needs to be done to make the beautiful clothes that he does. He appreciates the effort involved, but the process means very little to him.

Then the weather starts to turn and the chill in the air becomes something that lingers. The delicate fabrics are tucked into storage. The sewing machine is covered. Instead, out come baskets full of cakes and balls of yarn.

He didn't know Eddie could knit and watches with fascination as his needles click away. The smooth, easy motion is hypnotic and there’s a softness in Eddie’s expression that is missing when he’s hunched over his worktable, painstakingly finishing the intricate beadwork on his latest gown.

He wants to know more.

Eddie is delighted by Waylon’s interest and even starts a new project, walking him through what he’s doing. In the midst of his demonstration, Waylon is struck with the sudden realization that knitting is just binary and he knows that. He still hasn’t gotten Eddie a gift for the holidays yet and an idea takes root in his mind. He’ll need a lot of time and a lot of help, so he begins to plan.

Once he gets a moment alone, he looks up local craft stores and chooses one near his office. Hopefully it’s far enough out of the way that Eddie isn’t a regular there and no one will spoil the surprise. As nice as it is for his partner to be so well known, it makes keeping secrets almost impossible. He doesn’t usually mind, but this feels like something special. He wants it to come together just the way he imagines it.

When he first enters the shop, he distantly notes how bright and cheerful it is. There’s a lot of love in these walls. It’s obvious in the way it’s laid out, the indistinct chatter that filters through the air, and the general feeling in the air.

Then he gets to the yarn section and he’s immediately overwhelmed by the available choices. He doesn’t know what the difference is between acrylic and alpaca, much less the rest of the options. Thankfully, someone spots him and walks him through what each yarn is best suited for, their various properties, and their ease of use, especially for a beginner such as him.

He ends up spending hours upon hours at the store. The employees are incredibly helpful and when he inevitably runs out of yarn because he doesn’t know how to calculate how much he actually needs, they help him match it right away. Someone from the local knitting group is always there to coach him through his stitches and help him untangle his mess. Whenever anyone asks about the custom pattern he’s using, he can’t stop the rush of blood to his face when he explains, or the awkwardly pleased smile when they inevitably coo at the idea.

His crazy idea is starting to take shape and he's feeling almost giddy at the thought he'll make it in time. Eddie knows he's hiding something, how could he not when Waylon has been suddenly unavailable for weeks, but only smiles, trusting him.

“Aren’t you curious?”

“You’ll let me know when you’re ready.”

His heart feels as if it'll burst with affection for this man and it only bolsters his resolve.

Finally, after months and countless hours, he finishes. It’s a little embarrassing that after so much time and help all his efforts result in a truly terrible scarf. One end is visibly narrower than the other and the stitches are all over the place, impossibly tight in some areas and with large gaps in others. Only Eddie’s gentle coaxing gives him the courage to bring it out and gift it to him.

He smiles, absolutely delighted with Waylon’s creation. While technically awful, it has its own charm and there’s clearly something hidden in the oddly patterned stripes. Waylon has been far too deliberate with his color choices for it to be anything but intentional. “It’s beautiful, darling. What does it mean?”

He blushes a brilliant pink. Trust Eddie to catch on immediately. “It says “Dearest” in binary. I thought… I might not use the word very often, but you are very dear to me, and I thought having it written in your language and mine would be…fitting.”

The soft smile on Eddie’s face sends a jolt through Waylon. He watches as Eddie sets the scarf down, and reaches for his hands, slowly stroking his thumbs over Waylon’s knuckles. “I love it. Thank you so much for your gift.” He lifts one hand to his mouth and kisses it. “Will you teach me how to write darling for you?”

Waylon’s face burns, but he leans forward, nuzzling into Eddie’s neck. “Of course. Whatever you want.”

Eddie hums in satisfaction, shifting to bare his neck for more of Waylon’s affection. “Will you keep knitting?”

He laughs. “Not sure that’s a good use of the yarn. I think they’d appreciate being in your capable hands more.

“I could teach you. We could work on projects together.”

Waylon pulls back, but only far enough to nudge his nose gently against Eddie’s. “I think I’d like that. Quiet nights in, curled against each other, and making something together sounds wonderful.”

“It’s a date.”

They both close the gap between them for a kiss, the scarf laid between them like a promise.

[phoenix-before-the-flame]

Hey phoenix how have you been this is scar anon if you still remember me! Anyways I just have your laxus fanart rotating in my brain again and I am having so many thoughts like,,,I wonder how he got that scar yknow it's such a prominent part of his character but as far as I can recall (which is admittedly not very much considering I haven't watched or read ft in a hot minute) mashima never explained where he got it? God I wish there was an angsty backstory to his scar (or honestly more laxus backstory in general) but if we're being honest he probably just ran headfirst into a pole or smth.

Anyways sorry for my ramblings this was a poorly disguised request for some laxus headcanons if you have the time! (Can you tell he's my blorbo? That fanart you did genuinely restructured something in my brain and I still can't stop thinking about it to this day) Aight that's it from me have a good day! 👍🏼

Finally i can get around to answering this lol

With regards to Laxus' iconic eye scar I don't really think there was any deep reasoning or logic behind it on Mashima's end (from a character design stand point at least) other than having it be a visual tell that yup, this guy's got lightning powers so he's got a lightning shaped scar to let the audience have a clue about that. It's a similar thing with like, giving your fire characters flame printed clothing, or your evil characters red eyes or your yugioh character crazy hair to let the audience know that this is the protag.

It's more of an element to add some interest to his design and key readers into his magic before the big reveal than something i think was definitely added to tie into any backstory related thing.

And if it is connected to anything backstory related that was revealed later down the line a la 100yr quest i dont care because i dont care about anything to do with the sequel lol.

That being said, i've had this old ass concept regarding Laxus' scar that i've always meant to get around to and you've given me the perfect opportunity to talk about it.

So like, in my head and my tweaked version, Laxus' scarring is instead of a random cool looking lighting scar it's literally lightning scars.

Like scars you get from being struck by lightning. Lichtenberg figures.

(Took off his tattoo and guild mark for the sake of clarity)

Enter Phoenix- verse Laxus lol

Reasoning for this is because I've always figured that the operation that dropped that lacrima in him was a botched one. A sorta test run of making a 2nd gen slayer to work out the kinks down the line for better and smoother operations.

So that being said, in the initial months after the operation the lacrima did not adjust smoothly to being in Laxus' body and adapting to work with his natural ethernano so the lacrima would often times send out shocks through his body during that time as the dragon lacrima's and his ethernano particles would slowly sync up and work in unison

Hence resulting in the all over lichtenberg scarring starting from his chest (i always hc the lacrima's somewhere in the chest near the heart or so) and going through the head, arm and leg as exit points for the electricity when he used to get those shocks.

And the scarring would sorta wrap around his head too! If you shaved his head (sorry King) you would see that it would stretch across the scalp as well.

This whole thing also left his right eye slighter weaker than the other (not enough for him to be completely blind in it but it goes kinda fuzzy sometimes).

The whole full body scarring never really raised much questions though, a lot of people who see it just assume that it was a really bad magic accident (I hc that some elemental magics are more volatile and trickier to master due to the danger they could pose to the user so stuff like lighting and poison for eg are less commonly used than say water or air related magics). But those who know, know (Hello Makarov and Thunder Legion).

So uh, yeah. My headcanon and slight redesign regarding Laxus' scarring lol. Probs a lot more extra than you were bargaining for but i wanted to be able to visualize my idea properly 😅

Also bonus the scarring glows when he uses his magic :]

[heartsbind]

sae's wip jjk verse:

hehe ok since sae’s jjk verse is cooking more and more i’m gonna infodump some general lore here which i’ll either link to my carrd eventually or make a full page for him and will just keep updating as i solidify things. it got a little long because i wanted to give a little bit of context for people unfamiliar with blue lock so i've put it all under a cut:

but first, background: sae doesn't have a full info page (yet) so the primary thing i'm looking to model his verse after is the fact that in bllk he is considered the best soccer player in japan. initially his dream is to be the best striker and his younger brother rin would follow him as the second best, and it's a dream that he and rin share. he goes away for a few years to play for a youth team in spain, and when he returns he's fully given up on being the best striker; instead, he wants to be the world's best midfielder.

this is more or less the gist of what the story has told us so far, and i'd love to expand on it and speculate sae's introspection and thought process during this, since the fallout between him and rin that ensues is mostly experienced from rin's point of view, but that'll be another post if people are interested!

that all said: so sae and rin i suppose “awakened” to their techniques at a younger age and had plans to stand side by side as sorcerers together etc etc — they both attended the school in kyoto.

after experiencing a near death experience (could be the night parade of 100 demons) sae fears for his ability to protect his brother and — admittedly with arrogance — feels that he will get stronger if he moves to tokyo to work for the school there. he announces to rin his intentions to transfer to tokyo.

the thing to understand about sae is he’s really dry, arrogant, blunt, really does not emote much at all, and can be pretty harsh. so, of course, he doesn’t really know HOW to explain his feelings to rin, and yet rin is also the closest person sae has, and they’ve always been alike in many ways, so he thinks maybe rin will understand. sae kind of just tells him that he’s bored, that everyone there is lukewarm and the curses aren’t strong enough and he wants to go someplace where he can “be among the best.”

rin doesn’t understand, because he’s not a mind reader, and it devolves into an argument that ends with sae saying hurtful things (understatement) and leaving.

by the start of the events of jjk sae is a grade 1 sorcerer working for the school. he has absolutely no respect for the higher ups and also has no respect for anyone whose ability he considers weak or boring. he winds up accompanying students and sorcerers working toward becoming grade 1 on missions often and he has high expectations.

i haven’t really worked out the logistics of his CT yet but i think it’s something that can both enable him to unleash stronger attacks and also enable others to do so - basically like another buff or support CT. he’s fully capable of exorcising curses on his own, but wants to work with sorcerers who really make the most of his technique.

as someone who is more analytical/data-focused when assessing opponents (slash soccer players) - or, essentially, almost mathematical, the concept i'm running with is that his technique processes energy output as levels or units of measurement; his technique will work only on sorcerers whose output is greater than or equal to his own.

[trans-leek-cookie]

Thoughts on the little mermaid

I may be misremembering but didn't it feel like very painful to walk at some point after her transformation? Like the fact she's dancing makes me wonder if she's doing it by choice (my immediate image before I even realized it was probably the little mermaid was that she was delirious for some reason, maybe bc Cinderella wasn't like "yeah she's dancing and seems to be like. At peace" she just seems lost??)

Trying to figure out about the walking thing bit TV tropes reminded me: in the story mermaids DONT have an afterlife, iirc they fully become inanimate sea foam. How does this interact with Neverafter?? It seems like she persists between stories so I doubt it's like 'when mermaids die they stay dead instead of existing again' or whatever but at the same time this could be like way more fucked up if they do get another life? Bc while it's Unnatural for everyone one else it's like afterlife isn't super far from reincarnation they're not Close but there's a comparison to make about life/death/life again or whatever but if that part of mermaid lore is Canon in neveragyer uh. Well that's. Something

Also at the end spoilers for little mermaid the original one doesn't she like... become a daughter of the air. I fully forgot this Part and came back to write this but anyway that's interesting I forget where I was going with it though

read the Wikipedia article and it says that she "will be able to dance like no human has ever danced before. However, she will constantly feel as if she is walking on sharp knives" can we please get someone to prescribe her some painkillers

In the original story she also dances like for the prince... which... is curious. Is there a prince present on toy island?

SPEAKING OF toy island is like 12-14 year Olds right? So this brings up the question: how old is she? Did she just lice in the sea near the island or did she end up there because she's a kid or both?

Ylfa sister??? It would be really cool to contrast "transformation that makes you feel ugly and dangerous but gives you the ability to literally lessen the damage you take" and "transformation that makes you supernaturally graceful but causes you excruciating pain when you make use of that grace" like. Neither is Less Bad but they're so... hhhhhhh

Edit: generally the little mermaid is 15. Which would put her a Bit above the generally given age range (8-14?) Of toy island. Also the stepmother isn't special most of these girls don't have names

[rhythmicmeow]

TIMING: Current LOCATION: Near The Bloody Stake PARTIES: Owen @apaininyourneck & Leticia @rhythmicmeow SUMMARY: Leticia drops into a vampire bar, and Owen catches her on the way out. CONTENT WARNING: None!

Leticia had only spent about thirty minutes inside the bar. Barely enough time to get settled and order a drink, but there had been something in inherently off since she entered the building. The vibe was more Halloween than what she had anticipated, which would have been fine if she had been one of those Halloween all year kind of girls, but that had never been her scene. Blame it on dressing up daily for concerts, the idea of getting dressed up lost its flavor. The bar and the short conversations she had within had become just as stale in record time.

Leaving, despite being the only option, had left Leticia annoyed that her plans had fallen through. Instead of admitting the loss of the night, she reached for her phone and started scrolling through the popular locations around town, hoping something new and interesting would jump off the screen at her. With her head down, she made her way down the street and followed the natural path toward downtown. Worst case scenario, she’d just end up back home.

An uncomfortable feeling crawled up her spin and quickly ending up back home became the best case scenario. Leticia glanced over her shoulder and saw someone was there, but in the shadows she couldn’t make out a face. Just a form, and in the back of her mind, a whisper told her it was just a trick of the light. But paranoia wouldn’t let it rest and Leticia picked up the pace, taking a nearby alley to cut through a less direct path home, not wanting to lead them straight to her doorstep. 

-

On some nights, there was always an annoyingly steady stream of people leaving these damn monster hang outs which could make it hard to gauge who belonged, who’d accidentally stumbled in and who was there on purpose in an attempt to live out some gothic, Twilight-esque fantasy. Either way, Owen had been hanging out around on the other side of the street from the teeming entrance for way too long, burning through a fair amount of cigarettes. It was time to move, pushing away from the wall as he trailed some distance behind a scattered group of four people, following the lingering feeling of discomfort. 

After a moment, two of the people had disbanded from the small gathering of solo people, each ducking into a different place in the hopes for something The Bloody Stake clearly hadn’t provided. Luckily, Owen still felt the itch to follow and so he did. What finally seemed to make this evening worth it was getting a quick glance over the shoulder from one of the two people walking in front of him, followed by a quickened pace and a turn into an alley. The one furthest in the front seemed none the wiser, keeping a casual pace without a care in the world. Owen turned into the alley. A few steps in, the crawling in his skin began to fade, even as the distance between himself and the nervous woman decreased. Shit. Wrong choice. 

As he considered his options which were currently give up on this whole fucking night because why fucking bother, go back to that shit excuse for a bar or attempt to catch up with the person he now strongly suspected he should have followed, his foot caught on an empty bottle on the ground. It cluttered over the ground with unbelievable noise, clearly just waiting for its moment to shine, and the woman in front of him stopped. Interesting. “You always stop at the sound of someone following you down an alley?” Might as well see how much guts this non-vampire lady had since this night had been a complete bore so far, anyway. 

-

For all the mental gymnastics she had gone through before turning into the alley to convince herself that the man in the shadows was entirely imagined, her paranoia kept whispering to her: what if? And as the bottle clattered across the ground behind her, Leticia kicked herself mentally for doubting her instincts. Her pulse was racing, making running a non-option. Raising her heartbeat any further would likely push her over an edge that she doubted anyone around her was equipped to deal with. She dug her fingers into her palms and stopped where she stood, pivoting only when he finally spoke. 

Leticia pulled a face, mostly confused but mixed with a new found irritation. Was he really acting like she was the problem in this situation? “Do you always follow lone women down dark alleys?” She asked, waving her hand around the otherwise empty alley. “I mean, really. Me comforting the asshole isn’t as weird as being the asshole that needs confronting.” The words sat for a moment before she looked him over, hoping for a hint as to who he was or what he was doing there, so boldly talking like she was the inconvenience. But this was Wicked’s Rest, and a shallow surface glance wasn’t enough to gleam anything concrete. This place had the usual dangers, but a concentration of a thousand more, and Leticia was quietly hoping that this was just a human problem. 

The more she pressed, the more in control she felt. Of not only this situation, but of the overwhelming feeling that was building in her chest, threatening to become something else entirely. So, she pressed further. Standing tall and looking directly at him. Wanting him to know, whatever his game was, she wasn’t going to run scared. “Well?” Leticia demanded, crossing her arms. “Can I help you?” 

-

Oh yeah, she definitely had guts. An attitude, too. With every word, she seemed to grow more confident and the smirk on Owen’s face widened as well. The slayer found himself wondering how lucky she was that it was just a bored hunter that had accidentally stalked her in here and not something far more nefarious from that shithole she’d just left. A plucky attitude wouldn’t do you much good when you were being sucked dry by a monster. He waited a moment before finally answering, taking the time to dig out some cigarettes and leisurely light one. “To answer your first question, no. Not always. Has happened from time to time though.”

He took a drag, half amused by the distance still between them, their words carrying in the slim opening between two walls. A strange conversation taking place in a little pocket hidden away from the bustle of the main street they’d just left. “The second question…” Owen seemed to ponder it for a moment, blowing out smoke and dragging out the moment. “Nah. Not really. Case of mistaken identity. Although,” he added as an afterthought, taking a few steps closer before leaning against the wall. Still far enough to not be perceived as a threat. Not yet at least. “I am curious what you were doing in that monster bar.” God, he hoped she wasn’t one of those fang bangers. She was way too pretty and impressive to stoop so low. 

-

“Oh, perfect. A time to time offender.” If the statement was supposed to provide some kind of comfort, it hadn’t. Leticia was watching him carefully, arms crossed and eyes set on him. Getting agitated ever so slightly over the smirk on his face. Working her jaw, she had been about to dismiss him when he spoke again. On the surface, it was nothing. Just a man being a creep in an alley and then the word monster dropped and her stomach twisted. Her eyes drifted in the direction she had come from. 

People had complicated relationships with their supernatural origins. Leticia had never experienced it personally, but she had heard Nora call herself a monster in such a matter of fact way that it had broken her heart. But the way this man said it? It felt less like a self reflection and more of an accusation. “Monster.” The word fell from her lips, sounding foreign and feeling strange. Her gaze snapped back towards the man, the practice smile sliding onto her face too easily. If the strange feeling in her gut was right, this wasn’t any ordinary human that knew about vampires. He was far more dangerous. “Not much.” That much was the truth, but she flipped her hair over her shoulder, purposefully exposing her neck. “Why? Want to know the deals on drinks?” She asked, her voice light, feigning innocence that she didn’t bother trying to make convincing. “If you bring a drink for the host they give you half off food. Might be more your scene.” 

-

“Technically, no offence has been committed yet,” Owen retorted quickly, well aware that his choice of words could technically be perceived as a threat. It wasn’t really a habit to worry presumably human women on any given day of the week but not every non-undead woman frequented bars catering blood and brains alongside the booze. So he was gauging her reaction, watching for a sign that she had any idea of what he really was, seeing if there would be that brief glimmer of fear when it dawned on a creature that it was staring down a hunter. 

Her reaction didn’t portray fear, per say, but it did little to ease her discomfort. Even so, it seemed she had started to play some game of chicken on her own. Owen watched her smile through the smoke drifting from the cigarette, head cocking at her answer. Proving that she had at least some knowledge of the scene she had just left, the woman flipped her hair to reveal the slender expanse of her neck. Unmarked by fangs, it seemed, not that it ruled out a feeding completely. “I don’t think the host would be interested in a drink from me,” Owen chuckled, the sound low. He definitely enjoyed the occasional attempts made to bite him as it always ended in disaster for the vampire. 

“Well, whether or not you were offering drinks, I’ve lost the person I’m interested in, anyway. Or was interested in.” Owen winked, well aware that it was an awful line, taking a final drag from his cigarette before stubbing it out. “So you seem like you can handle yourself well enough, cutting through dark alleys by yourself and sassing strangers. What’s your preferred method? We using like… pepper spray? Maybe the old car keys between the knuckles trick? A gun?” There was really no point to the questioning other than boredom and the fact that this night was useless anyway so might as well spend it having a little chat. 

-

"Technically is a bad way of defending yourself against a crime. Just because something technically isn’t illegal, doesn’t make it right. Or good. Or not annoying. And this happens to fit the bill for all of those things.” Leticia shot back. He was right though, just as she had been about the monster bar just down the street. The more he spoke the more uneasy she became, as if she was being let in on a secret that she had no desire to know about. As much as she wanted to close her eyes and pretend that this was just some weirdo with a vampire obsession, the way he laid it out made it impossible for her to pretend. He was a hunter. 

But he was looking for vampires — maybe he wouldn’t be interested in her at all. As selfish as it sounded. Emilio had been a slayer and he hadn’t had a clue about her, but Emilio was also… different. There was no denying that he was different from other hunters. Leticia couldn’t bet on him to be the norm, especially in Wicked’s Rest. So, she pursed her lips and pretended she hadn’t put the details together, hoping the man wouldn’t see past the mask. “They’re boring like that,” she said offhandedly. “The spice is where all the flavor is.” 

Leticia managed a laugh before rolling her eyes. This guy was strange, but it seemed like he was just bored now. Which was good. “Who in their right mind would tell a stranger what their secret weapon is?” She asked, taking another step toward him. More as a show that she wasn’t scared of him. Even if she still was. Worrying at her lip briefly, she figured why not push a little harder. Might as well irritate him right back for interrupting her night. (Boring as it was.) “What kind of slayer fucks up so badly they follow the wrong person? Your spidey sense broken?” 

-

Perfectly conveying how little he cared about the woman’s words, Owen shrugged, smiling lazily. The fact that she still hadn’t left was interesting. It didn’t seem likely that she was afraid, staying here to make sure he wouldn’t follow her, so odds pointed to her being just as bored and curious as he was. The previous smile widened at her comment, turning smug and a bit proud. “And I’m getting the feeling you’re not boring.”

Now that she was the one closing the distance between them, Owen followed her lead, closing the distance until they were a mere arms length away from each other. She looked even nicer up close, especially with that fire burning in her eyes, a challenge. The slayer had never been known for hating a challenge. “Worth a shot,” he replied innocently, cocking his head as he finished very obviously raking his gaze over her. And then she managed to surprise him further, admitting to how much she really knew. Owen didn’t visibly react to her statement, obviously, much too practiced in concealing his emotions. 

-

Grinning, he resisted the urge to reach towards her, maybe tuck back a stray lock of hair, as good as convinced that she wouldn’t take it lightly. At least not yet. “I would say that your looks distracted me but that would be a bit too corny,” he sighed, eyes sparkling with glee. “But no one’s spidey sense is perfectly accurate, which you would know if you were one of us so…” Obviously not undead, possibly just a regular human, possibly not. All in all, Owen didn’t much care. “Which brand of Wicked’s Rest oddities are you? No worries, I don’t discriminate as long as you have a heartbeat.” Most of the time, at least. Well… if he was fond of the non-human being. 

Leticia returned the shrug, but didn’t back down. “A lazy observation, but yeah.” She doubted anyone in Wicked’s Rest was truly boring. Especially considering how many strange people she had met since she had come into town and how quickly that number was climbing. This guy included. She would have been more shocked if he had found someone who wasn’t worth a conversation. Though she was mildly curious about what his definition of boring was. 

-

Whatever game of chicken they were playing, Leticia wasn’t entirely sure who was winning. She didn’t feel threatened anymore, but she was nowhere close to dropping her guard. Especially around a hunter, and a man she had just met. He looked her over and almost immediately, she leaned in, arching a brow. “Now look at who's boring.” But at least he wasn’t pretending to be anyone he wasn’t. That was refreshing, in a sense. But still, there was something uncomfortable about how he didn’t react to her blatant comments about what he was. Maybe he was hiding his reaction, maybe he really didn’t give a shit. Leticia tried to sweep it under the rug and pretend it didn’t make her wonder.

“Ah, well, if that’s what distracted you, you’re looking at the wrong end, aren’t you?” Leticia huffed a laugh, looking away from him only long enough to realize where she had screwed up. There was no easy way to wiggle out of this one, but she looked back at him, and tried anyway. “And you still followed me? Sounds like yours might be a little broken.” Crossing her arms, Leticia tipped her head to the side, blinking at him with a practiced smile on her face. “Heartbeat is still there, otherwise, it’s none of your fucking business. Sort of ruins the mystery, don’t you think?” 

-

Even though a lot of her reactions seemed practiced, more plastered on with a dash of confidence rather than genuine, Owen could catch genuine glimpses of the woman in front of him every now and then. The tension from before seemed to be giving way - whether she was human or not, she clearly thought herself capable of fending for herself. Some apprehension was to be expected when dealing with a stranger in a dark alley but he still had an inkling the whole ‘slayer’ thing was bothering her the most. Maybe she had an undead friend somewhere or just a general distaste for hunters as a whole. Either way, Owen didn’t much care right now. There wouldn’t be any hunting tonight so his mind was already moving on to greener pastures for this evening. 

“Maybe my inner compass had other priorities,” he replied vaguely, grinning at her crossed arms and stiff smile. Hands raised in mock surrender at her response to being pestered about her… genetics. God, he really wanted to put that attitude to the test. “Again, worth a shot.”

His hand reached out, rather slowly to not provoke her fight or flight response more than he already had. Whether or not she would accept it was a lovely mystery. “I’m Owen. Let me guess, your name is none of my fucking business either?” The teasing tone was accompanied by eyes crinkled with amusement and honestly, he didn’t care whether or not he got her name. The answer to the next question was the important one. “Since you don’t really look like you had much fun at the blood bar, how does some company for a regular bar sound? I can sort of promise that I won’t bite.” 

-

He was a strange one, she’d give him that. The immediate danger seemed to be gone, but she still didn’t feel wholly comfortable with him looking at her. Leticia had found herself surrounded by one too many hunters in the recent weeks and that number seemed to be insistent on increasing no matter what she did. But he had at least dropped the question of her genetics. It wasn’t a huge win, but it was still something, and Leticia would happily take it. It seemed his focus was on vampires, and if that was all he cared about, who was she to question it? 

“I’m sure it was your inner compass. Also, don’t call it your inner compass, it sounds weird.” But that was neither here nor there. Inhaling, Leticia rolled her eyes. The most unfortunate part of this entire conversation was that this wasn’t even the worst she had heard. New York bars had brought their worst and their finest out, and this, as terrible as it was, wasn’t rock bottom. “Was it? Really?”

Owen. A name to the face then. She brought her hand up just as his got close and pushed it away gently. “Wrong again, Owen. That’s kind of a mouthful for a name, don’t you think?” But Leticia didn’t give it up. Not yet, at least. While she felt comfortable enough to believe that he wasn’t going to drop her identity to other hunters for shits and giggles, she wasn’t sure. “Depends,” she finally replied. “Are you buying?” Hopefully he wasn't like other slayers she knew, otherwise this friendly conversation was going to end up with her calling her accountant at night asking how much she could afford to pay off a bar to forget their debt. “And if you bite me, I’m biting back. Had enough threats of that tonight.” 

-

Owen sighed playfully at her chastising. “Fine. I followed the wrong person but I’m staying because you’re interesting and hot. Happy?” Might as well throw the rest of the cards on the table since she had figured out the slayer bit all by herself. If she didn’t appreciate honesty, there were definitely other people to pursue tonight. Even if he wouldn’t mind spending some more time with the woman currently pushing his hand away. 

“What kind of gentleman would I be if I wasn’t?” Owen replied, taking a step closer before sidestepping her completely and heading towards the street bustling with people. Her question taken as an agreement for drinks. It was tempting to offer her the completely free drinks back at his apartment but given that she didn’t even trust him with her name yet, it was a long shot. “I’ll hold you to that,” he called over his shoulder, smile audible in his voice, walking slowly to make sure she would catch up. “Come along then, skatt.”

—

“Better, yeah.” Leticia looked almost satisfied, as if she had won something here. Being followed into an alley had been off putting to say the least, but when it came down to the reasons? She understood. Not that she trusted everything he said about not caring as long as she had a heartbeat. Which brought forward questions about what other creatures out there lacked heartbeats—but she wasn’t sure if he was the one to pose those questions too. He seemed to have a singular thought on his mind. 

“You really want an answer to that?” She asked, watching as he moved closer, and then around her entirely. Leticia arched a brow but followed suit a moment after. The drinks might not have been an apology for following her and mistaking her for a vampire, which stirred the balam in her mind, as if offended it had been mistaken for anything but itself, but the offer was still enticing. And Owen promised at least an interesting night. She took one last glance in the direction of the vampire bar, and decided he’d make a good distraction, too. “Pendejo, what did you just call me?” She fell into step with Owen easily, not looking nearly as irritated as she should have been. Only mildly distant, wondering how her ever growing list of people she knew turned into such a shitshow of hunters. 

—

“Only if it’s brutally honest.” Sure enough, it seemed the woman’s curiosity matched his own as he heard her footsteps get closer. Followed by a very suspicious question and a nickname Owen was growing all too familiar with due to his proximity with another slayer. An innocent smile on his face, he shrugged. “It’s a pet name. Swedish. Since I have nothing else to call you,” he explained, the tone of his voice suggesting that there was every chance of that being complete bullshit. It wasn’t, but letting her think that he’d insulted her was fun. 

Eager to start the evening before the spitfire following him decided to change her mind, Owen stopped at the first bar they passed, holding the door open. “After you.” 

It wasn’t too crowded inside, the night still young and thankfully, this place seemed void of any blood suckers. With a sigh of content, Owen led his companion inside, hand hovering over the small of her back. Not crossing the boundary yet, slowly testing his luck, practicing what little patience he had to not piss her off before they even ordered their first drink. 

—

The way he said it brought a frown to her face. A pet name but the tone suggested that he was just fucking around with her. Most of the night had been that, so it wasn’t much of a surprise. Just a new irritant for her to fuss over. Which was probably Owen’s intention considering how he carried himself. So, after a moment of huffing, Leticia lifted her head and pretended like nothing had bothered her in the first place. As if that would suck out any satisfaction he might have gotten. 

They ducked into the nearest bar and Leticia should have recognized it. Most of them were bars that Emilio had in rotation so that they didn’t piss anyone off too many nights in a row. (Though she figured it was a habit from when he simply didn’t pay his bill.) The bartender clocked her the second they stepped inside. She shot him a pointed look and he immediately looked down at the counter, but the smirk on his face? He was gonna tell Emilio, wasn’t he? Bastard. 

“Christ,” she sighed, allowing herself to be guided for a moment before taking Owen’s hand and leading him to a table further from the bar. Not wanting to give the bartender any more gossip than she had already. Leticia sighed as she took a seat and then propped her chin up on her fist, looking more directly at Owen now. “I fucking hate small towns.” But despite her initial irritation, she laughed. 

—

The quiet exchange lasted briefly but Owen didn’t miss it, with his focus so intently on his companion, trying to figure her out. Before he could ask about it or, more importantly, make a quip, he was being dragged away from the bar. Smirk planted firmly in place, even as his hand was released and they took a seat, Owen cocked his head. “Old fling? Guess I’m in luck if you have a thing for bartenders,” he joked, glancing over his shoulder. Sure enough, a pair of curious eyes met his gaze and immediately looked away, bartender pretending to busy himself with other customers. 

“So,” Owen sighed, fingers interlocking on top of the table, “do I finally get a name or am I going to have to go pry it from our curious friend over there instead?” A grin, more of a challenge than anything else, before he added, “even though I don’t mind keeping your current nickname which may or may not be an insult.” God, he hoped she ended up googling it and realizing she was getting worked up over nothing. 

—

Dropping her face into her hands, Leticia sighed once more. But after a moment, she recovered and looked at Owen again. "My type in men is mistakes, so you do fit right in." Did she consider what she had said before saying it? No. But this entire night was a disaster as it was, there was no possible way she could dig this hole any deeper. Trying to refocus the conversation away from her personal encounters, she tried to pry into his life. "You're a bartender? Your spideysense fuck up that often you need a side hustle?"

Leticia puffed out her cheeks at the threat and rolled her eyes. "Not really fair that you're going to use outside resources here. Who the hell am I supposed to grill about you? Feels pretty uneven here." After a beat though, she finally caved. "It's Leticia. And don't tell him anything, that man is a rat and a gossip."

—

“Excellent,” Owen replied, drawing out the single word in a very irritating manner, accompanied of course with a smirk. Leaning back in his seat, enjoying the way his new friend seemed to be letting her guard down ever so slightly, he glanced back at the bar. They hadn’t even gotten the chance to order yet. Before he could tell her as much, she was back with more insults disguised as questions. “Two jobs, actually. It’s expensive to always be buying people drinks.” If she thought he was bad at vampire hunting, that was fine by him. She wasn’t the one that needed to be threatened by him. 

With a self satisfied shrug, Owen leaned in closer, daring her to force his hand. “I never play fair,” he stated, head tilting expectantly until she finally gave in. His smile was wide, in no way attempting to hide the satisfaction he’d gotten from that simple win. “Leticia,” he tried out, watching her for a moment before unexpectedly getting to his feet. “Watch our table, will’ya?”

The bartender was doing a fair enough job at pretending to keep his chill once Owen neared the bar, only once glancing over the slayer’s shoulder, presumably meeting the gaze of a very angry Leticia. “Hi there. Whiskey and one of what she usually gets.” The whole time, he kept from looking back at his companion, not giving her a chance to even wordlessly threaten him lest he ‘talk to the rat.’ The drinks were delivered and Owen leaned on the bar, sizing up the man. “Owen,” he finally said, offering a hand and, once the handshake was accepted, he added, “heard you’re a big gossip.” With a quiet ‘tsk’, he grabbed the drinks and returned to the table, sliding one over to Leticia. 

—

Leticia rolled her eyes this time around. “I hope you’re not looking for me to feel bad for you. I’m sure you manage just fine.” And frankly, it was a step up from the people she usually drank with. Half the time she ended up with the tab, and while she could afford it, she was always a few shades of annoyed that it was becoming an expectation. But for Owen? Even if he wasn’t about to put a blade in her chest (yet, she presumed) that didn’t mean she was going to be rooting for him to be living lavishly while he did his job.

The grin on her face made her wish she hadn’t said anything at all, but knowing their bartender and Owen’s personality - he would have had it one way or another. Which was some bullshit if you asked her. Leticia leaned in, only slightly, to shake her head. “Stop looking at me like that. Stop acting like you won something.” Drumming her fingers on the table as he walked away, she sighed again, feeling at least more at home here than she had outside. This was familiar. Safe. Even if Owen posed some risks himself. 

Including whatever the hell he was saying to the bartender while he was ordering their drinks. Christ. “What did you tell him?” She asked before reaching for her drink. “You better not be ruining my favorite bar.” It wasn’t her favorite. Or her only. But he didn’t need to know that. 

—

Of course, Owen was immediately berated with questions as he sat back down, Leticia demanding answers. “Nothing important,” he sighed, smirk still visible behind the rim of the glass as he took a sip. Wondering how long it would take her curiosity to drive her mad. If she’d come back another night to ask the nosy bartender about the very brief exchange of words. Or if she’d perhaps stop coming here at all. Nah, she seemed much too stubborn and proud for the latter. 

“So,” he put a hand on his chest, “bartender, slayer, mistake.” Gesturing over to her, his eyebrows raised expectantly. “I don’t want to have to play unfair to get more than a name out of you but since I’m not opposed to breaking the rules… your choice.” An obnoxious grin on his face, Owen leaned back in his seat, drink in hand, waiting patiently. 

—

Her eyes were locked on the bartender, wanting nothing more than to walk over there and demand him to give up what he had been told - and swear him into secrecy. But that would be forfeiting this strange game they were playing, wouldn’t it? Either way, Owen was walking away with far more information that Leticia had intended. She needed to stop talking before she fumbled her way into another round of trouble. 

Mistake did manage to get a smile out of her, but it only lasted a moment before she schooled her face and shrugged. “A man of many trades.” Leticia would have made the joke that he was a jack of all trades, master of none, but considering he had followed the wrong woman, he might take it personally. Her choice. Leticia was quiet, enjoying her drink and letting his question sit before she set her glass down. What was the move? Pretend her phone was ringing? Make up another pitiful excuse? Or just… outright say it? “Leticia,” she began with a hand on her chest, mimicking his posture. “Business owner, and uninterested in making another mistake tonight. Sorry to disappoint.” But thanks for the free drink? 

—

It had been worth a shot. It was always worth a shot, even when the outcome wasn’t the most preferable one. Getting to know people in town tended to come in handy one way or another, regardless of how intimately Owen got to know them. And the woman he had followed into a dark alley really had been a long shot. At least for tonight. He gave a nonchalant shrug before finishing the rest of his drink. “Guess I’ll have to find you again when your standards are a little less rigid.” 

Digging into his pocket, he pulled out a twenty dollar bill and placed it on the table. “The rest can go towards tips for my new friend over there.” Glancing over his shoulder, Owen winked at the curious bartender before getting to his feet. “Or you can get yourself another drink.” He grinned then, with a slightly more serious expression, added, “just for the love of fuck, stay away from the necrophiliac bar.” 

[galaxythreads]

Heyo! love your work and I've run into a bit of a writing pickle and wanted another opinion: you see, I'm about 200k into a fic at the moment and pushing that number any higher is like pulling teeth. Have you ever chewed a piece of food for so long that it becomes entirely unappetizing? Yeah, that's about where I'm at with this story right now. The concept and story beats are still, in the abstract, interesting to me but the physical act of writing is near torturous. Have you ever ended up in a situation like that? How do you maintain momentum and find joy in working on a project that is no longer interesting by sheer virtue of overexposure?

Hi! Great question! Thanks so much for trusting me with this. <3

First, Ive gotta commend you for writing something that long. That's absolutely incredible. In all my years as a fic writer, Ive never written anything over like 170k. Ever. So amazing. Fantastic. Wonderful. You deserve to be recognized for what an amazing achievement that is. I'm proud of you.

Second: yes, Ive had this. A lot of you probably don't remember this, but I started the Blodig Skog and got like 4 chapters in before just stopping completely. The world I'd built exhausted me and I didn't want anything to do with it anymore. I thought about deleting the story. I thought about posting the ending. I thought a lot about what I was doing wrong to make me hate it. (Nothing. I was just overworked)

Ultimately, after trying a lot of writing tricks and tips, what actually helped was taking a hiatus for over a year. I didn't think about it. I didn't write in it. It just existed along side me. After the break, I came back, I reread what I had in it's entirety, reread the plan, and then started writing. I finished it in less than two months after that. That story was one is the worst to get through. I hated it at first. There were a lot of concepts I liked and I still wanted to do, but, as you said, it was near torturous to work on it before I took the hiatus.

So don't.

Don't work on it.

You don't have to. Fics are meant to be fun. You always have the option of coming back and finishing it later. Maybe you can take those ideas and use them in another fic. You're allowed to reuse ideas and concepts as many times as you want to.

You need a break. Stop holding the fic so close to your face. As frustrated as you are, it's probably hard to remember why you enjoyed working on this fic in the first place. I know I did with the Blodig Skog. Time will offer perspective. Maybe you'll figure out how to finish it, maybe you'll figure out what's making you hate it.

I wrote the rest of the Blodig Skog in two months because I wanted to. The joy of working on that story was unlike anything I can describe to you, but it was only because I stopped working on it after my mind begged me to. That hiatus saved the story, and I mean that genuinely. Sometimes keeping momentum means we give ourselves time to breathe instead of trying to push through the entire time.

So please, please give yourself a break. And I mean a break. A minimum of a month, ideally between 3-6 months. Then you can come back and reread and try writing again. Your brain is telling you something - I do not want to work on this, I am tired, please stop - and you should listen.

I am so, so, so proud of you for getting this far, please give yourself some rest. The fic will still be there. Write down any plan details you might forget and then stop for a while.

Let me know if you need clarification or want me to answer this another way, I'd be happy to help. Hopefully this was a little helpful.

[blueskyheadleft010]

Unicorn: Warriors Eternal is incredibly slow paced...

Still unsure about if Unicorn: Warriors Eternal is gonna be my kinda show to watch or not...

Only 4 episodes have been released and the pacing is really slow with teenie tiny lore bits sprinkled towards the end.

Also not very keen on the whole steampunk London style, but it’s not terrible, just kinda confusing as to why they chose that route. (also 1890′s is not a vibe I relate to, but I want to see where they’re going with it and if they’re gonna lean into it or ignore the worldbuilding.)

There are a few jokes I like so far, but the rest is really strange and the lack of background music in most of the scenes makes it feel empty unintentionally. Sound effects also seem generic and typical, and have a lot of reused sound fonts; so I guess the budget went to the animation and voice acting over everything else.

The pacing is a lot slower than what I'm used to, and it took 2 episodes to just get to the basic plot premise and it wasn’t very interesting in terms of pacing or anything.

The fox lady is mysterious, but so far I have no idea who she is or what she wants other than to prevent Unicorn from doing their job?? Also Merlin showed up for all of 5 secs in the beginning and told Unicorn they gotta keep being reincarnated to fight the energy dragon over and over and ‘hey look, I somehow went through time and brought back this steampunk robot to help you guys. He doesn’t talk or anything, and he uses various whistles and kazoos to make sound, so good luck imma peace out now’ then never shows up again?

My main cons are the Popeye/Betty Boop art style. It’s really throwing me off and not in a good way. It’s not consistently blending with the cgi shots and other one off animation scenes. (Some stroke widths are also inconsistent and a few shots of animation feel like moving storyboards instead of fluid animation; really anytime something moves across the screen or stretches feels like it was lazily edited in After Effects).

(observe the 3 different shading styles/line art in these gifs.)

  The enemies Unicorn faces look both like creatures from Primal and Sym-bionic Titan, but don’t match with the rest of the character styles on screen. 

I also just don’t like the big-nosed toothy people and dopey goofy grins; it’s overexaggerated to the point I can’t decide if everyone is high or if the show has a thing against the British in general because there is a ton of crooked/gapped teeth to the point it’s cringe to look at for too long.

There’s a lot of stereotyped characters in this show, and while I understand they’re going for a specific style, I’m not too sure if this is gonna get a pass or if they are leaning way too hard into it to the point it’s insulting to any human being on a fundamental level.

Having said that, there are a few gems of animation (and fewer good lines of dialogue); but they’re often in scenes that aren’t big action scenes or anything so it’s kinda weird when one dialogue scene cuts to someone moving around very fluid-like and then cuts back to a scene which is less movement oriented. (For example they animated a near 180 degree turn of a hand reaching above, but there wasn’t really any buildup or need for it, it just was?? and then cut to a cgi animated fight where the enemies get slapped off screen in the course of 3 keyframes.) 

I’m not sure what this show wants from me the viewer and the audience, but I’m willing to give it a shot if they would just pick up the pace of the action, holy cow it’s too slow!! D:

[faerie--macabre]

Sleep evades her despite the exhaustion that still lingers. Instead all she can do is stare down at the slumbering lump in her arms. In truth she shouldn't be holding him, shouldn't start forging a bond that will never flourish since she plans to leave as soon as possible. Yet here in her arms is the son that's given her a hellish nine months. Silently he lays atop her bosom, little fists clenched up and tufts of dark, raven hair sticking up in all directions.

The fact he lives is serendipitous. Because quite easily she could have snuffed out his existence long before now. But she didn't. If anything, Embrose should thank her for giving him an heir, one that's guaranteed for something great. "You're a Vess afterall." Liliana murmurs, fingers stroking the child's back with featherlight touches.

Continuing the bloodline was something she was never interested in. In her girlhood, at the age of seventeen, she was so relieved to have her apprenticeship with the healer of Vess Manor, Lady Anna. What was meant to be a punishment was in some ways a salvation. Of course the apprenticeship came with its own frustrations, yet; Liliana would much rather be elbow deep in innards, cleaning pus dripping wounds and listen to the dying cries of soldiers than deal with grubby little hands tugging at her skirts, shepherding rowdy youngsters and having a child on her hip near constantly. She'd happily stomp through the swamp collecting herbs if it meant not having to play nanny to her cousins and younger sisters.

That sentiment still prevails when she gazes down at her son. He's been quiet so far; calm while looking up at her with big brown eyes almost in adoration. Unfortunately there is no spark of that maternal feeling so often talked about. There's a possessive feeling that's lingered when a nurse comes to close. But it's less in a mother bear shielding a cub sort of way and more of in the way of owning an item --- an artifact or expensive bottle of liquor. And bless his tiny heart, he deserves actual care. That'll be Embrose's burden to handle.

Just when she's starting to get sentimental, a thought creeps up in her mind. Her son may live now but more than likely Liliana will outlive him by a long shot. While she is not fully immortal, she needs not worry about aging. Time is hers. Killian, the blood of her body and flesh of her soul, does not have the same advantage. There will come a day when he's rotting in the ground while she still walks the planes. Something about that thought makes her sick in her stomach.

Hastily it's pushed away. There's no need to linger on such trivial matters. Once she's gone, she's gone; never to return or seek him out. Her time on Arcavios is up. She has a life to live as does he and certainly as does Embrose.

Embrose...he'll be here in the morning. Liliana needs to prepare to drag herself back to Innistrad. She had considered sticking around for another day or two however, that might be problematic in the long run.

A soft yawn catches her attention. The tiny creature now looks up at her. Gently Liliana shuffles him so the two are pretty much face to face. "You will be the greatest curse I can bestow upon your father." It's a jest said softly, with more mischief than malice. The babe laughs as if he could understand every word she's saying. "Yes, you should give him as much hell as you have given me." That earns her the honor of his tiny hands splaying across her cheeks and what one can interpret as a kiss placed on the tip of her nose (though really it's more the equivalent to a nibble).

Her heart skips a beat. For a split second she reconsiders her plan to make a speedy escape. Guilt starts to creep up and that, that is a big enough sign that this needs to end.

So Liliana lulls her son back to sleep. Come daylight when Embrose finally arrives, all that's left is the swaddled child and a piece of parchment with the name Killian Lu scrawled on it in Lili's own beautiful script. No explanation following. The babe seems content, albeit appears to be missing a chunk of hair.

Returning to Innistrad, to Vess Manor is the most tranquil emotion. Her sanctuary, now like her body, is empty and silent. The feeling of her own bed and the silk sheets are like heaven. Her body as well as her mind are beyond tired. Before slumber completely takes hold of her, Liliana places a bundle of braided hair (inky black and no bigger than her pinky finger) onto the table beside her bed. There's a jeweler in Thraben that specializes in making pieces in commemoration of lost loved ones. She'll take it there. Maybe get itmade into a brooch or locket. The only remainder of odd time in her life.

Now her focus can return to her pacts. Demons won't kill themselves. Nor fetch their own artifacts or kill their own targets.

[miriamundertale]

hi heres my current reading list for manga. still being updated. post is very very long so under a readmore. images are only if i have specific screencaps to help the big spam

The apothecary diaries

Clasic miriam strategy of reading the manga of a popular anime instead of watching it. I did not realise how like. Political drama this would be. It rules a lot. More stuff like this please.

Babanbabanban Vampire

Aw yeah. This is vampire yaoi i can get behind. This is vampire yaoi i can respect on a primal level across generations. Please give me more opportunities to fujo out about a vampire so pathetic and bad at being down bad he cucks himself.

Berserk

I guess it goes here now wtf. Curious where it goes but im not upset if it turns away from what i like. The last miura chapter was an ok open ending for me

Black clover

i originally started reading this due to it feeling like a good example of shounen as a genre with the good and the bad, and for a while was going to say its my "if you want to understand the genre just read it" rec but one piece has been here. just here 4 fun now

Bocchi the Rock!

Ill be blunt just watch the anime. I enjoy reading the manga but its pretty classical mid. mainlining shots of kikuri until the spinoff lands jokes on you im already blasted

Bocchi the Rock! Gaiden: Hiroi Kikuri no Fukazake Nikki

Hiroi spinoff This woman is too pathetic for her own good [redacted for public safety]

Im caught up, rough start but very fun overall and good horny art. hard to complain

Boku no Kokoro no Yabai Yatsu

Boku wa Kimitachi wo Shihai suru

This is one of my "this is blatantly porn" reads but its got some good fucked up elements that make it fun. i also pr it so woo

Boy's Abyss

Bungou Stray Dogs

see before reading himegoto i genuinely loved it despite it kinda getting comical with the fucked up ness near the end. now its fine, but i read for my girl chako

its pretty ok so far. i think its hilarious its made people go back and read classic lit

Chainsaw Man

God i love act two. Asa is the best possible followup to denji and seeing her and denji interract is going to make the inevitable fujimotofication of the story even more fun

Hazure Skill "Kage ga Usui" o Motsu Guild Shokuin ga, Jitsuha Densetsu no Ansatsusha

Yeah ik long name. its an isekai lite aka the whole "this is an isekai in all but including the start of an isekai" genre thats popped up lately. its very charming and gorgeously drawn

Heavenly Delusion

in terms of post apocalyptic stuff it stands out and winds up pretty fun. the art isnt something wild but stands out with its own charm

Henjo

Henjo is hornybait with fucked up age gap, so a very boring and tread upon category, but the target audience is clearly less the horny 20 year olds hunting high school girls and more the high school girls who think they can pull. An important part of the manga ecosystem.

The Summer Hikaru Died

the art style is really evocative and i do love me some weirdly fucked up yaoi. good recent pickup

Hikikomari Kyuuketsuki no Monmon

Isekai Meikyuu de Harem o

kinda slippin on this one. it feels like a bit that they abandon quickly but i do love my vampire media. Im also kinda sad the anime adaptation didnt really pick up interest in more being adapted.

In/spectre

See the solution to writing good het is to make them kinda fucked up in some way. This works even better with gay ships but two people with something wrong with themselves clicking together is too great not to use. This is me being vague so you read the manga

Ishuzoku Reviewers

I read this out of this fucked up interest in how the mangaka spends the majority of this horny isekai not worldbuilding but game designing the rules of this isekai. Its such a weird focus of priorities

fun concept fun art horny is fun fuck you

Jahy-sama wa kujienai!

Jahy is going to abolish capitalism

Ka「」Ku「」Shi「」Go「」To「

Please someone pick this up again please if you need an editor i will fucking do it just reach out

Jibaku Shounen Hanako-kun

This manga is fuckin gorgeous tbh. I think its close to its endgame and im excited to see how it goes

Kagurabachi

fuck you shut up fuck you i thought it would be funny. its pretty ok shounen. needs more homoeroticism though

Kemono jihen

Kobayashi-san Chi no Maid Dragon

Its a fun read and i like a lot of the character designs. It holds me pretty solidly at least

Kesa mo Yuraretemasu

Eiji masuda could make me read a manga about a wet dog undrying painted walls and id read in seconds and hype it up. Thankfully this is great above that. Romcom but entirely from an audience perspective is SUCH a fun idea.

Dramaid is watching someone with immense talent at writing domestic slice of life work REALLY hard at learning how to draw tits

The vampire dies in no time

I thought this was gonna be yaoi but instead its nothing but pathetic characters i absolutely love. Really good stuff

Mahou Shoujo ni Akogarete

Mieruko-chan

i dont need to justify reading this to you. you know its good. we all know its good. fuck you.

How is this not more popular. Great concept. Really striking art. Solid writing. I barely see anyone talk about it. Might be due to the really uninteresting anime adaptation

My hero academia

i just want to see this train crash

Natsume Yuujinchou

I love the show and the mangas no exception. Really enjoyable and yuki midorikawa's style is pleasant on the eyes

Noss and Zakuro

this is insanely cute on every level. you agree.

One piece

Its fucking real lads

One Punch Man (webcomic)

Welcome to gremlintown (we got an update :D)

One Punch Man (Manga)

thank god were free from garou arc

Onimai

goated.

Oshi ni Amagami

i like my funny vampire stories and this is a fun vampire neet one

Oshi no ko

i am committed to this idc about the outcome

Ousama Ranking

IMPLYING ANYONE EVER DOES 70-155 LMAO SORRY I LIKE READING THE MANGA cant believe you made me watch the anime. tl the missing chapters please

Please Give Me Your Blood, I Will Serve You In Gratitude

Miriam "Trashy Vampire Manga Fan" Undertale

Record of Ragnarok

i needed something trashy and fun and this does it

Rent a Girlfriend

my least defensible read. its garbage. i hate it. its horrible trash and i read it purely out of some weird revival of the author attempt to understand miyajima innately and emotionally through his work

Sakamoto days

Im sorry it took me this long to hop on. I wasn't familiar with your game.

Senpai ga Uzai Kouhai no Hanashi

This manga gives me severe dysphoria and yet i keep reading it. well not rly because its kinda gotten mega boring

Shingeki no Eroko-san ~Hen na Oneesan wa Danshikousei to Nakayoku Naritai~

Continuing her streak of having the biggest mind ever, yoshiru konogi pops off with the manga targeted towards pathetic 30 year old women who want a high school boy to a massive degree

Shojo null

Art is cracked and the energy is utterly hogwild. I love the "no actually please torture your oppressors" vibe so far

SHY

im so happy im getting updates again. anime was good despite low budget. excited for s2 yes yes yes

Skip and loafer

The art style is so lovely and its a breath of fresh air compared to a lot of the romance ive been reading lately

Sono Bisque Doll wa Koi wo Suru

Its fun fuck you. The seasonals in 2022 had a great selection of source materials and bisque doll slams it out of the park

Sousou no Frieren

the severe nature of how much this goes will never be beat.

Spy x Family

Its good and thats Fine. no clue whats going on with the manga it feels like i get maybe an update every 5 months

The Dungeon That Kills All Adventurers

another dowman sayman banger who could have predicted this

To Your Eternity

TYE is enjoyable though i think its kinda suffering from jojofication. i think it deserves an ending soon

Usuzumi no Hate

i refuse to believe this is this mangakas first work. this is fucking incredible. gorgeously drawn with an incredible concept. read now

The 100 Girlfriends Who Really, Really, Really, Really, Really Love You

the type of peak that could only exist to those willing to brave their own doubts. a work of art that will only exist for those strong enough to resist their hearts saying "cringe"

The Case Study of Vanitas

who could have predicted gay vampires are good

VERSUS

Why are we once again in a world where people are not translating kino by one

Vinland Saga

Man this grew on me fast. I picked it up not expecting a lot and got the world with it

Witch Hat Atelier

Yorashi Ni warau

At this point it feels like im very obviously drawn to pretty stuff but honestly its a really good read. Qifrey and olruggio should kiss already

Witch watch

I was lied to about there being vampires as a core part of things. But in return i got a really cute comedy that has just enough of the right type of derrangement to worm into my brain. Good mistake.

I cannot get over the art still, fucking gorgeous, the story hasnt really gotten stuck in my craw like some other things but the art genuinely makes up for it.

Yotsuba

Yotsuba is one of the mangas of all time

zom 100

this is one of those "i saw the start of a genre trending and assumed one of the main firestarters would be bad" stories and im glad i was wrong. it's very charming in a kinda fun childish way

[haldenlith]

So, I'm rewriting the time-skip fic I was working on with Astarion and scrapping a lot of what I had, approaching it with an entirely different plot instead (same setting, though). However, I wrote a scene that I'm still fond of, and I'd hate to see consigned to the void, so I'm sharing it with you guys.

I'll give some background context: The premise was that, flung ahead a few centuries after the events of the game, the story is that a now much older spawn-Astarion is still alive and well in turn of the century, Edwardian-themed and Industrial Revolution-hitting Baldur's Gate. Astarion's made something of a name for himself as a faux-mercantile-lord, being the purveyor of a fairly successful perfume enterprise which is, publicly, the source of his wealth. As far as the public is aware, he's just some eccentric high elf dandy, with an ornery human assistant named Charles usually tagging along. None of that is the whole story, of course, (he is a Charlatan, after all) but it's how he gets by. At this point, his beloved (my Tav, Tannivh) that he fought alongside has passed on, leaving him to manage on his own. Which is... fine... until he encounters his reincarnated self and sees the man carted off to jail. Needless to say, Astarion's instantly invested and interested in getting said reincarnated man out of jail and into his hands. Cue the scene I thought was amusing.

--

As the guard led the two men through the jail, there were a few catcalls from the rowdier inmates. Not to Charles, of course, but to Astarion. His eccentric fashion tastes seemed to always catch people’s eye, though not always in a positive light. A few glares cut through the bars from others who were less vocal. Either way, Astarion merely lightly sneered in their direction with utter disdain. He wasn’t there to be afternoon entertainment.

The guard stopped near the end of the hall, leading them to a small cell where the wood elf from earlier sat, knees bent, arms resting on them. His barely shoulder-length black hair mostly obscured his features, and the firelight glinted off the unique manacles on his wrists. It seems they didn’t trust him to not sling spells while in the cell. The guard lifted his clipboard and flipped through the pages. “Ah, yeah, here he is. Yeah, we just booked him. Said he was a nasty bugger to try and drag in. Let’s see… Felaadan — which is about as much as we got out of him for a name. Age, unknown. His charges are ten counts of vandalism, four counts of assaulting a Flaming Fist officer, one count of public disturbance, eleven counts of unlawful use of magic, and two counts of trespassing. I’m sure there will be other minor infractions levied against him when the magistrate sees him.”

Astarion plopped a hand on his hip, cocking his head to the side, peering into the cell. “Well, aren’t you a naughty boy.” The man in the cell glanced up at being addressed, but initially paid them no mind.

Initially.

There was a pause, and he did a double-take, piercing emerald eyes snapping onto Astarion’s face and meeting his gaze. A flicker of recognition passed over Felaadan’s features.

That was all Astarion needed.

“How much is his bail posted for?” 

Charles blinked at the question, and leaned in to whisper through gritted teeth, “You cannot be serious! If you want hired muscle, we know where to find it for far cheaper!”

As Astarion gently pushed Charles away, the guard sucked in a sharp breath. “I don’t know, m’lord. He’s caused a lot of trouble over the past month. I doubt he even has a bail set for him, thanks to him trapping — accidentally or not — Lady Caldwell in her manor a week ago.” Astarion arched up an eyebrow, a bemused smile appearing on his face. Someone terrorized that old bint? Good.

“I think we could… work something out. You’re all so busy with… the rest of the rabble. Besides, imagine how the press would react if you flayed the skin off some poor boy for making plants spring up hither thither.”

“Well, lashes weren’t really — ”

“And wasn’t the big push going to be that The Gate was heading in a ‘new direction’ with our laws? To become a beacon of a new age? Surely denying citizens bail, exacting archaic punishments, and preventing proper rehabilitation would run counter to that ideal.”

“I mean, I guess you’re — ”

“I feel like it is my duty as a noble lord — no — a noble citizen to aid in bettering our society. I am more than willing to do my part to help clean up the streets and rehabilitate this man! Put him to doing good, honest work! So! I ask you again, my good man, what is his bail set at?” 

Charles and the guardsman both stared, a bit stunned (though for differing reasons), at Astarion.

“I, um, I’ll go talk with the Warden and see what I can do,” the guardsman replied, jerking a thumb behind him as he stepped away. Shortly after he left, Astarion jerked his chin in the man’s direction, his gaze on Charles.

“Make sure someone gets paid.” With a begrudging sigh, Charles followed after the guardsman. Once they were essentially alone, Fel’s voice finally spoke up from his side of the bars.

“... You have a lot of faith that I’ll come along quietly with you after I’m out.” A wolfish grin spread across Astarion’s face as he returned his attention to Felaadan.

“Darling, if you’re even a third of the man you were in your past life, you’ll not only do that, you’ll feel obliged to return the favor owed.”

--

And scene.

I just thought it was an interesting little scene that I had written, and that I'd share that incomplete snippet before I shove it into a folder and scrapped.

[wildishmazz]

Well this got rambly

Starmania is intriguing. It has so many random elements that feel like vestigia from rewrites, and this feeling is never stronger than when listening to the 1990 Tycoon album after getting familiar with Starmania(Edition Rouge, anyhow, the 1989 version).

It's perfectly possible that Tim Rice didn't know what happened in the show and made it up as he went along, and no-one dared to correct him when he seemingly reassigned songs by including the wrong character details or hints of backstory in them, but it’s far more interesting to go from the assumption that he was writing according to a planned major rewrite that never actually materialised.

The most obvious indication of this is Nobody Chooses, because while it's understandable that Rice might confuse the fading movie star for the tv presenter or maybe even the antiestablishment terrorist mastermind, I don't see that anyone could reasonably completely rewrite a song to change it from an angry young man telling his tragic backstory to an omniscient narrator's(accurate) commentary on the doomed romantic relationships in the story by accident. Additionally, recycling Banlieue Nord as Nobody Chooses would mean that it couldn't go in the same place in the plot.

This would then explain why A Little Damage Done has a more persuasive tone to it than Quand On Arrive En Ville, adding the sentiment of "embrace the cause, we know you know we're right", and overall sounding like a direct response to the questions Cristal was asking immediately prior to Banlieue Nord, if it were moved to Banlieue Nord's position from its place near the beginning. It would excise from there reasonably cleanly - the libretto would simply go directly from Roger Roger's news bulletin about the Black Stars straight into Marie-Jeanne talking about them in the bar, and introducing them in person. The trouble would then be that they wouldn't be introduced with a bang.

So maybe they could have half of Il Se Passe Quelque Chose À Monopolis(which even scans better as "Something's Going On In Monopolis", though it doesn't actually exist on the English album), and crossfade the song into the news report, giving them time to get to the next scene.

And Tim Rice's lyrics to Le Monde Est Stone, The World Is Stone, sound like they should be in Cristal's mouth, or maybe Stella Spotlight's - it sounds less like the words of the world-weary robot barmaid who yearned to see the sun and had a hopeless crush on a gay man than the revelations of one of the sheltered, privileged women who only recently came face to face with the harsh reality of the lives of the 99%. Which then suggests that maybe Cristal wasn't going to die.

But then, Only The Very Best requires that she was. And making the last line "Oh, it's getting cold"(and including "I was immortal, til today") strongly implies that Johnny was going to die too, which he didn't at the end of SOS d'un Terrien de Détresse. And doesn't "only the very best, reasonable request" sound more like something that would come out of Zero Janvier(unholy amalgamation of Donald Trump and Elon Musk)'s mouth than street brawler Johnny Rockfort's? At the very least, you could reassign the song to the titular Tycoon and it wouldn't sound wrong.

Le Reve de Stella Spotlight is absent from Tycoon, no Dream of Stella Spotlight is recorded, so does that perhaps suggest that it was going to be cut and Stella go straight into Stone instead?

And thinking of Stella Spotlight(Eva Peron by way of Norma Desmond), Rice references her apparently famous persona "Babydoll" in two songs, You Get What You Deserve and Farewell to a Sex Symbol, allowing the inference that she was going to sing both. Why would Sadia, revolutionary mastermind, be referencing "Babydoll, teenage queen" in her introductory number, and bragging about all the different roles she can play? Seems more like the defiant declaration of an aging movie star insisting that she’s not past it to me, rather than a version of Travesti, Sadia's original "I'm trans and fuck you if you've got a problem with that" manifesto.

And then in the show generally there are the scifi dystopia elements established early on - the world is homogenised, no-one gets to see the sky any more, everyone has a number on their back(is that what the black stars on their jackets are obscuring?) - that just sort of get mentioned once then dropped. And the implication is there at the start that though the official line is that there is no crime in Monopolis except that perpetrated by the Black Stars, that official line is a smokescreen - the Black Stars may throw a few bricks through windows, and release press statements taking responsibility for any disruption, but they’re largely innocent of the crimes they’re accused of. We see them blamed for a breakdown of the ventilation system in a commuter tunnel. I mean, come on - that sounds much more like an official body shirking responsibility for an accident caused by poor maintenance by blaming those pesky ne'er-do-wells who cause havoc for absolutely no reason at all they just like chaos and certainly aren't political activists trying to draw attention to the fact that Monopolis is not "this bloody perfect town", actually, it's a "damned metropolis", a harshly stratified society with those at the bottom living in squalid tunnels where they never get to see the sky and those at the top dancing in a penthouse nightclub called "Naziland". But these things mostly get mentioned once and then never really come back.

I wish I was a better fanfic writer, there's so much here to work with.