#out of all my published works this might be my magnum opus SO FAR

[diorsbrando]

I’D DIE FOR YOU (AND I HAVE). ( s.a. )

sousuke aizen & black!fem!reader.

cw ━━ ! minors, blank and ageless blogs DO NOT INTERACT. reader is portrayed as a black woman but you do not have to imagine her that way. using this map of the seireitei as a reference (i searched high and low for a consistent accurate one but it was hard). the first half is set pre-ryoka invasion / pre-soul society arc. the second half is aizen-centric (from his pov told from the 3rd person) and set post-tybw arc, years after he was sealed away in mugen, also including mention of events from vol. 1 of can't fear your own world (a light novel that's post-tybw & can be considered canonical); so all this being said: SPOILERS i guess???? of course you're welcome to read if you don't care about spoilers! somewhat based on 'die for you' by the weeknd & even more loosely based on 'dark red' by steve lacy. contains themes of heavy-ish angst, existential crises (?) & inner emotional turmoil within reader + aizen (separately). descriptions of character death, blood and violence. descriptions of manipulation/mind games. aizen is an unkind man. proofread (i did my best).

word count ━━ 11k

notes ━━ ! the way this fic was supposed to finished a month ago...but life once more gets in my way. and the way that it's this long....i anticipated the max being 10k but i greatly underestimated how long it would take to flesh out my idea. anywho i'm somewhat reentering my bleach era again. i’m not sure what it is but character analyses in the form of fanfiction is my jam rn like i really enjoyed writing this (i got tired of the length by like... 7k words lmao) but i like how this turned out. i've watched & read quite a bit of content that provide explanations as to why aizen is the way he is so i wanted to try my own portrayal of that in the context of canonical events. how i characterized him here is partially inspired by a fic i read about him last year so shout out to them for their support :D i hope i've depicted and humanized aizen well ♡. reblogs + commentary are heavily appreciated!!!!!

THE PAD OF YOUR THUMB SLOWLY glided against your bottom lip, the lingering aftertaste of jasmine tea still on its surface and on your breath. The absentminded motion of your thumb caressing your mouth, as if in deep contemplation, continued as you stared at the clock hanging on the wall above you.

It was past eleven, and the midnight hour only continued to draw near as time sustained its temporal march. And there you sat at your desk, floating in the limbo of your mind that was filled with hesitancy and admittedly, budding anticipation.

Your gaze lowered to the now empty porcelain cup, nothing remaining of its contents except the shriveled remnants of herbs and a few wayward drops of the brew.

Your senior comrade, captain Sōsuke Aizen, was correct in his prediction that you'd take a liking to its floral and delicate taste when he gifted you a jar full of the jasmine tea leaves as well as other ingredients.

The captain of Squad 5 seemed to be correct about a lot of things.

His intelligence and foresight, along with his kind and politely witty disposition, were qualities that you found somewhat charming, and gradually drew you closer to him.

Being the current third seat of the 9th company, your barracks and those of squad 5's were relatively close to each other's, so often you'd catch glimpses of and run into Captain Aizen on a pretty normal basis. Over the years, the conversations that bounced between the two of you expanded past the realm of formalities between a higher and lower ranking officer, and instead ranged in territories from literature, to art, to food & drink, and even to the politics of the government for which they were soldiers for.

Sometimes, you found it hard to believe that you managed to befriend a man like him. A man who seems to have mastered the balance between being a gentle soul, helpful to others, but also possessed enough refined power and skills to be named a captain within the Gotei 13.

Especially a man who wasn’t even of your own squad.

Despite the increasingly friendly relations and generally pleasant conversation, there were few moments where Aizen's words didn't feel quite. . . . real━ he didn't feel real. He spoke eloquently, often relying on figurative language to further illustrate his point and to breathe meaning into seemingly plain and meaningless words. But at times those words, his tone felt stained; stained with some substance or color you couldn't quite place. An enigmatic façade was painted over his speech, and it took too much mental capacity to try and find your own meaning in it.

So you'd often brush it off. Your over-reliance on your own reasoning that 'you weren’t able to come to a conclusion because there is no problem a conclusion could be generated from' successfully quieted your mind’s voice. You'd also frequently blame exhaustion, or your newfound hobby of watching human psychological crime shows during your off days for these subconscious ideas you had.

But you feared that the request Aizen made of you yesterday, the source of your current predicament, couldn't be blamed on any of those things. You looked at the clock again before returning to stare at your empty tea cup. For what reason could Sōsuke Aizen wish to meet you outside of the 1st division barracks? Specifically at this hour? You immediately thought of his question as uncharacteristic of him but prevented yourself from jumping to any further conclusions.

Aizen was a reasonable man, and you were sure there was a reasonable explanation.

With a final sigh of acquiescence, you stood up from your sitting position to retie your yukata before slipping a thicker, dark colored haori on top. You were unsure how cold it was this late at night or how long you'd be out, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

You paused for a moment, glancing longingly at your vanity mirror a few times, clearly torn between a decision, before giving in with a soft groan. Grabbing your favorite perfume, you quickly spritzed the spray onto both your inner wrists, either sides of your neck, and stray areas on your clothes. You’d proceed to make sure your hair was in order and your lips were as moisturized and glossy as a pair of tear-filled eyes before making your way to the door and slipping on your sandals.

Meeting with a captain— with Aizen of all people— in the dead of night resembled too closely to forbidden lovers rendezvousing under a fruit tree to fulfill their desires of embracing one another, with no one but the moon as their witness. The comparison alone caused the apples of your cheeks to burst aflame with embarrassment, and you lightly chastised yourself for even indulging in such an inappropriate train of thought. Such a scenario seemed far too deluded to even be considered ‘wishful thinking’.

But those delusions still seemed to make more sense than whatever other conclusion you have yet to reach.

Making your way out of your personal quarters, you activated your shunpo technique, stealthily hopping from one rooftop to the other in an effort to make it to Squad 1 barracks quicker.

After several minutes, your mind mostly engulfed with the 'what if's', the soles of your sandals finally touched ground, and you stood a few feet away from the massive walls and bridges that connected to and from the barracks. Even at night you were able to make out the bold-printed kanji for the number 1 that was painted on the building.

When you arrived, even from a nearby rooftop, you didn't see anyone around. Feelings of confusion and worry began to creep up and flicker to life in your mind.

But, as if your thoughts were as audible, you felt a light breeze of wind behind you, a familiar sound that indicated someone had made their presence known.

Startled, you reflexively reached for your zanpakuto, when you remembered that you hadn't even brought it with you. It still laid against the wall near your bed, just where you placed it earlier when you were relieved of your duties for the day.

You didn't think you needed it necessarily if you were just going to meet with Aizen, hence why taking it with you slipped your mind.

The flickers of concern were swiftly extinguished as your brain caught up with your body upon realizing who just appeared. A relieved sigh left your lips, a breath of air that seemed to release all the tension that had a grip on your heart and wound tight within your muscles. "Ah! Good evening Captain Aizen. You caught me off guard for a moment there."

"My apologies, that was not at all my intention." The Fifth Division Captain sported a dark colored scarf, his long captain's coat and the standard shihakushō all Gotei officers were supposed to wear. In the sash around his waist resided his own sheathed zanpakuto. His tawny hair maintained its usual part but looked slightly tousled, yet still remaining so in a meticulous fashion that made it look intentional.

The state of his hair alone, and his current facial expression made Aizen look more . . . approachable if that’s how you were to describe it. There was a glint in his eyes that you had seldom seen before.

"Thank you, for making your way down here to accommodate my rather. . . . atypical request. I again extend my apologies if I have inconvenienced you in any way."

You shook your head in reply, "It's alright, I wasn't doing anything too important anyway. Just having a cup of tea and delighting myself in a book before bed."

You glanced downwards at the foot or so of space that was wedged in between the two of you. You forced away the murmurs of your lingering thoughts that took note of how the moonlight and shadows danced across the surface of Aizen's face just right, and emphasized his decidedly handsome features.

"But having a complete and good night's rest is important to be fully functional in all areas of one's performance. Wouldn't you agree?"

You couldn't help but chuckle softly. "Yes, I do agree with that sentiment."

Aizen all but hummed in acknowledgement, letting a moment of silence fill the air before speaking again.

"Shall we be on our way?"

You nodded in agreement, following him as the both of you walked about the First Division grounds. From what you could tell based on your position, your aimless nightly stroll drew you closer to where Sokyoku Hill was located. The area became increasingly more grassy and contained less buildings.

Although Squad 1 grounds weren't terribly far from either of your barracks, you still weren't sure as to why Captain Aizen wished to meet out here. Initially you thought that perhaps he was just fond of this particular scenery, but really it could have been anything.

But still, you believed Aizen always had a purpose for everything he did.

After several moments, his warm voice replaced the evening silence, vocalizing your current thoughts. “I assume you are contemplating why it is I have asked you here, and I’m afraid the reason is quite benign. Truthfully, I just wished for your company. I often go on night walks to clear my head after a long day and thought I might invite you to join me this time, and have a conversation with each other."

Your brows shifted upwards, for that was not quite the answer you were expecting. It seemed too . . . simple. “Really? You just . . . wanted to talk with me? Plainly?”

The Squad 5 captain let out a short, soft laugh at the disbelief that was painted on your face. There was an expression of fondness present in his eyes and in the light smile he offered you. “Yes, exactly. I quite enjoy our discussions actually, they’re intellectually stimulating and relatively pleasant. You crossed my mind, and before yesterday, it has been quite some time since we’ve had the opportunity to unwind and talk.”

You hummed an mhmm in agreement, tearing your eyes away from Aizen’s side profile in favor of the hem of his captain’s haori, watching how it danced in the soft breeze. It seemed to be less distracting than the way Aizen peered down at you from time to time.

"I see. I am. . . . truly flattered by your words, Captain Aizen; you're too kind. Forgive me for asking but," you took longer strides so that you could fall into step next to him━ as if to speak to him more directly, "Why at this time? To talk with me, I mean. It couldn't wait until more . . . . . conventional hours?"

He chuckled again, and answered as smoothly as if he were awaiting you to ask him that. "Unfortunately, today's tasks ran a little long today, so I had to stay at my office later than usual." The spectacled man paused for a moment, before setting his soft gaze on you, "And besides, that completely defeats the purpose of inviting you on a night stroll, doesn't it?"

You ignored the heat flaring up in your cheeks again. Your mind refused to move past the fact that you had crossed Sōsuke Aizen's mind enough times━ or the times that he thought about you were significant enough━ and highly enough to invite you into his realm and indulge in these moments with him, when he very much could have done that alone.

A tender smile appeared on your lips, more towards yourself than the man next to you. "I. . . suppose it does."

The ashen-white moon only rose higher in the sky, providing an ambiance of tranquility as the both of you talked about whatever crossed the surface of your minds. Other times, the stillness of the night did the talking, and you'd listen to the leaves, and the wind, and the crickets sing together in harmony. Gradually as you walked and the beaten path grew more narrow, your figures drew closer together, until you could feel the long sleeves of his haori brush against your own.

You hadn't noticed that the two of you eventually stopped walking and paused under a tree until Aizen struck up conversation once more. When he called out your name in that gentle, velvety voice, you swore your heart was going to lurch out of your chest. The sound of your name rolled of his tongue so smoothly, the desire to hear it again grew within you.

"Uh━ yes, Captain Aizen?"

"Are you satisfied with way things are at the moment?"

You stood next to him, perplexed at his inquiry due to its vague nature. "Um, what. . . . things? I'm afraid I don't understand what you're asking."

The wind brushed Aizen's dark ochre tresses across his face as he took a step towards you, like the breeze itself was pushing him towards you. "Hm, perhaps I should be more clear then. Are you content with being a soul reaper? Are you satisfied with being a soldier for the Soul Society?"

With your brows slightly furrowed in thought, you remained silent for several seconds and overanalyzed his every word, trying to predict where he might be steering the conversation now. The longer you thought it over, the stronger that nagging feeling from within your soul became. The one that often told you what he was asking wasn't exactly . . . it didn't quite feel . . . . .

"This feels like a prelude to another insightful discussion on Shinigami━ and by extension━ Seiretei politics." Your words cut off your own thoughts, as if your mind was trying to sweep something under the proverbial rug.

Aizen huffed in amusement, before lightly shrugging, leaving your statement definitively unanswered.

You sighed as you seriously considered his question this time. "I mean sure, I guess. I'm somewhat satisfied with my job and all of . . . this," gesturing your hands in the air around you to emphasize your point. The 5th Division Captain made another humming noise, indicating that you still had his full attention. He inched a little closer into your personal space.

The mere action caused your next words to die in your throat and a quiet chuckle resounded from his, before your thoughts revived themselves again.

"Of course things could always be better but. . . . y'know. This is just how it is." You weren't quite sure if you should voice negative opinions about the Soul Society so plainly to a senior officer, even if he was the one who asked you in the first place, so you treaded lightly.

The same plainly relaxed smile from earlier remained painted across his lips, held in his chestnut irises was an emotion akin to affection. He seemed somewhat pleased that you were expressing your thoughts with him.

“And you? Are you satisfied, Captain Aizen?” You were unable to keep the teasing endearment out of your tone as you returned his gaze, casting aside the notions of Gotei officer seating and ranks for the moment. The air seemed like it shifted━ towards what, you weren't sure of━ but it kind of made you feel like you were adrift, floating in isolation from everything else around you.

It was still hard to process that you were alone with Captain Aizen right now. . . . at night.

A low hum reverberated within his chest, contemplative in nature as he replied, “Perhaps.”

The wind whistled lowly again, erecting goosebumps on whatever part of your skin happened to catch the midnight breeze. You fought the instinctual urge to twitch towards the nearest source of heat, which happened to be Aizen. Now that would be even more wholly inappropriate than the 'lovers meeting at midnight' scenario.

The silence between the both of you was brief, but comfortable nonetheless. Once more his mellifluous voice cut through the quiet, leveled and calm, like still ocean waters.

“Come. I want to show you something,” Aizen reached his arm out towards you, your spine as straight as if someone stuck a metal rod dipped in ice water down your robes.

The captain's movements seemed steady and slow━ it had felt like time itself had hesitated for several moments. You thought he was going to . . . . well you weren't sure what he was going to do, and that's what you made you nervous.

Was he going to touch you? Cradle your cheek? Remove a stray leaf that happened to land on your head? You were left somewhat dangling in anticipation, not daring to flinch backwards because you felt it would be disrespectful or offensive. You hadn't even blinked, subconsciously fearing that this was only a very vivid daydream.

But alas, when his arm drew near it extended past your head, slightly above you, and held a small branch in his palm it like a delicate flower. You released a breath you didn't know you were holding, but that breath drew short again when your gaze was eye level with his lower neck and chin.

He seemed . . . . closer.

“I think that regarding the condition of the Soul Society," Aizen began in a quiet voice, referencing his own reply to his earlier question, "and therefore my thoughts about it, is akin to this set of leaves on this branch."

Snapping out of whatever stupor you seemed to have slipped in, you exhaled softly before stepping back a bit to look at what he was talking about. In his palm he cradled a wayward branch that grew from one of the other sturdier branches of the tree. The green foliage of its arms had started to weaken and dull in color. The cold air due to the seasonal transition to autumn caused the leaves become brittle, nearing closer to the edge of death.

The sound of just how brittle they were resounded in the air when Aizen thumbed the leaves in between his fingertips, observing their texture with pity laced in his small movements.

"These leaves will fall off as it gets colder. And soon, the rest of this tree will be bare as well. When the time comes, when the right circumstances fall into place, the old die to make way and usher in the new; it's simply the way things are. I think of the Soul Society government is structured in a similar manner."

You hung onto his every word, like he were imparting crucial wisdom to you. Even though you were a bit confused on the last part, and on the connection between dying leaves and Soul Society, you still listened intently, waiting for him bridge the gap between the two.

"The Soul Society as it is now can be thought of as a season. And this particular season, this climate has remained so for several centuries. How can nature continue━ how can we continue to progress when the old have yet to be washed away by the currents of time? It defies that of nature, yes?" He directed this question at you specifically, in search of your agreement.

You nodded your head, tearing your gaze away from the branch and directed it at the grass beneath your feet. Your brows furrowed a little as you mused over Aizen's words. He gave a rather ambiguous answer before but now, his words sounded like vague displeasure and muted criticism. Everyone was entitled to their opinion, and on some fronts, you'd sometimes agreed with the 5th Division Captain. The Soul Society was far from perfect, too much emphasis on nobility and status, the government resembled too closely to an oligarchy . . . But you didn't━ wouldn't voice these thoughts, though.

Instead you hummed quietly under your breath. There was that tugging sensation again. This time it told you that there was something deeper to this conversation than meets the eye. But what could there be? Was there anything at all or were you just overthinking it?

The voice-like sensation in your soul was calling out to you, but you couldn't hear it that well or quite make out what it was saying. It's as if someone was calling out to you in a crowded room that had music playing on the speakers: you felt like if you listened hard enough you could make it out but ultimately, the result would fruitless.

"And when that happens," Aizen continued, "sometimes nature has to be gently nudged back on track to keep things moving smoothly. That may require . . . shaking the tree. Pulling a few harmful weeds from one's garden, so to speak."

"Weeds?" You echoed. You felt like you understood this analogy and therefore what he was trying to say, but at the same time you didn't. Or was it . . . . you didn't want to understand what he was implying?

Because if you were interpreting his words correctly, if he were inconspicuously comparing the higher-ups and the government itself to dying leaves and harmful plants that needed to be removed, then . . . .

"You, dear child, are a mere weed in this scenario."

Wait, what did he just━

Your thoughts were cut short when a gush of air that smelt strongly of Aizen━ warm oak, vanilla, and a kind of musk that you weren't sure how to describe but was still pleasant all the same━ brushed against your face and took you by surprise.

But there was another aroma that arose, steadily becoming more apparent alongside the increasingly painful throbbing feeling you felt in your abdomen.

It smelt metallic. And it was something that you've smelt all too many times before.

It was blood.

Your gaze that was initially narrowed in confusion lowered as it followed the source of this pain. Your eyes slowly widened in as you struggled to comprehend the blade that was currently ran through your torso.

Aizen's blade.

"Actually, instead of weeds, a more accurate and befitting analogy perhaps would be blades of grass. You unfortunately have to step on them in order to reach the weeds you want to remove."

You couldn't really focus on what the captain was saying, because your brain was still struggling to process what the hell just happened. Your hands slowly rose from their sides and shakily grazed the zanpakuto, wanting to believe that if you touched it, it would pass right through your fingers like mist. But no, the sensation of cold steel was as real as the robes you wore on your back. You only just now are processing the muffled squelching sound of his sword impaling your flesh.

You wanted to scream, to cry in pain, to vomit, to push him off━ something. But all you could do was stand there, stunned, words completely failing you. "Wh. . . . what? Why did . . . . you . . . . "

A cough replaced your attempt at a comprehensive sentence, and you tasted iron in your mouth.

Fuck....was this really happening?

"Please don't push yourself trying to talk," His voice was like an index finger to one's lips, similar to a parent's gentle caress to quiet and sooth their child, "You'll only hasten your death. And I'm sure you wish to know the reason for my killing you, yes? You'd have to be alive for that."

'Killing me?' 'My death?' The certainty that rang in his words chilled the blood in your veins, and they confirmed the one conclusion you hoped wouldn’t come true: that you were going to die.

The frigid embrace of fear and dread engulfed you from behind and you shivered, causing the blade snugly lodged in your organs to shift. The pain of that foreign object moving even a little bit shot through your entire body, causing a groan to emerge from your throat.

Desperate to conserve your energy and the oxygen that was becoming a little harder to take in, your breathing became uneven and a little wheezed. Even then, you couldn’t bring yourself to meet the gaze of Captain Aizen to confirm if this was really happening or just an extremely realistic and vivid nightmare. The sight you might be greeted with could be more frightening than the actual impaling of his sword.

As if his betrayal couldn’t actually or figuratively cut you any deeper, just then there was a noise that grew louder and louder within a matter of seconds until it was almost deafening. You’ve distinguished it to be the sound of glass crackling.

Your surroundings formed cracks everywhere on its surface, like it was just an oversized window. Even on the grass you stood on, or what you thought was grass, began to crumble away.

A dumbfounded but panicked look was plastered on your face when your world literally shattered around you, the only remnants of it being you and the Captain.

What was underneath the mirage━ or you should say, the fact that it was a mirage at all━ only disturbed you and increased your perplexity.

Slightly hunched over and breathing heavily, it took a minute to process where you were, but you noticed that now the two of you stood in a formal room that looked like it was used for important meetings. The lights in the room slowly started to brighten, most likely due to motion sensors. Even with Aizen's scent lingering in your nose, you could still pick out a rather stale aroma that hung in the air like dead fruit that hadn't fallen off the tree.

"Is . . . this Cen . . . tral━ "

"You are correct. Where we currently stand is the assembly hall for Central 46, the judicial power of the Soul Society. All judiciary as well as legislative trials and proceedings are held here."

All around the room were seats with partitions, the kanji for 1 through 46 printed on them. In the seat for the 19th member, your gaze caught onto something on the translucent barrier. It was a little farther up so you had to squint your already blurring vision to see it properly.

You saw, and your heart promptly sank as a result, eyes widening once more.

There were splatters of a dark colored substance on the partition━ undeniably blood. And the lithe, bony fingers of an older man laid lifeless, peeking out from the side of the screen like the appendages themselves were trying to escape from the body they were attached to.

That man . . . was dead. That stale aroma you smelt was the stench of death.

It was only after that unsettling epiphany did your eyes dart frantically around the room and realize that every member of Central 46 was dead.

The disturbed expression on your face only intensified as your stare was pulled back down to where Aizen's blade still resided in your body.

" Cap.....Aizen," you uttered, swift to correct yourself. All the moisture in your throat dried up like water underneath the unrelenting rays of the sun. You kept gulping your saliva in an attempt to assuage the sensation, but relief only last for a fleeting few seconds. "Did you ━ you killed them . . . didn't you?" Your question was laced with shaky hesitance and swelled with apprehension, fearing that you already knew his reply even before he answered.

There was a moment of silence and a hum before he replied. "Smart girl."

The muted mirthful tone in his voice sounded like sarcasm, and it was enough to finally draw your attention away from everything else and directly look at him. Almost instantly, you regretted it.

His umber tinted gaze was colder than you remembered. You couldn't find anything in his eyes that hinted that all of this was just a big misunderstanding, or a dream, or that Aizen had a secret sense dark and complex humor.

This was your first, and apparently your last time, that you have ever felt a fear such as this. Your mind was struggling to comprehend this was the same Aizen that spoke with you so gently, full of encouragement and wisdom. The same man that recommended you books to read and gifted you tea to drink and gazed upon you like . . .

Well, none of that mattered now. In this moment, Sōsuke Aizen wasn't the same man anymore. This Sōsuke Aizen was someone else, and it frightened you.

"When?" you croaked, your voice no longer sounding like your own. Nothing felt real anymore. "W-When did you . . . . . how? Why?"

Another noncommittal hum resounded from the spectacled man as he closed his eyes, feigning the action of thinking of an answer. When he reopened them, his narrow gaze returned to you.

"Everyone in the Thirteen Court Guard Squads was previously aware that the ability of my zanpakuto, Kyoka Suigetsu, allowed me to confuse the enemy using bodies of water, mist and even moisture in the air in order to attack. However, that is not my zanpakuto's actual power; there is more to it than just simple confusion. Kyoka Suigetsu's true power is Complete Hypnosis. Essentially, when someone looks at my blade, I am then able to take control of that person’s five senses, causing them to believe that something is real ━ or that something isn't real. In a way, once glancing at my unsheathed zanpakuto, that person forfeits their sense of existence to me. Kyoka Suigetsu is quite flawless in its deceptive abilities."

A heavy silence, aside from your uneven breaths, endured in the space between both of you. You didn't need him to spell out what he was trying to say.

It was all . . . . an illusion. A convoluted, premeditated illusion. And you walked right into it without even knowing or considering, that it was all fake.

The Fifth Division Captain inwardly smiled at the despair clearly written on your face as he watched you mentally put the pieces together. He took your lack of reply as a sign to continue. "The members of Central 46 have unfortunately been dead for quite some time now. And as for your question of why......"

The taller man stepped towards you which inadvertently (or purposely, you began to fear), drove his sword deeper into your abdomen without warning and slight force. You bit down on your bottom lip hard to stifle your exclamation of pain. In an attempt to somehow resist him, with the little strength you had left, your hands automatically took purchase in his oversized sleeves, but it did nothing. You found it ironic that you could feel how warm Aizen was underneath his robes, but his soul was anything but.

" . . . . I believe I already mentioned it earlier, yes? All flowers die eventually and the weeds......must be removed."

At that moment you remembered that tugging sensation that told you something felt off in some instances whenever you talked with Aizen. This must have been what it was. Damn it all. You still didn't understand exactly what bad things Central 46 and the Soul Society have done to cause his actions, but based on what you've been told and your current position, it must have been heinous. Again, you actively swallowed the urge to vomit.

"You . . . you lied. I can't believe━ how could it have all b-been a lie?" Another nasty cough rattled your body, followed by a shiver and a groan.

The brown-haired man slightly tilted his head, like he was truly confused. "Lied? Hmm, well. I suppose you could put it that way based on your limited knowledge of the circumstances, but I wouldn't put it that way. Besides, this isn't really about truth or lies. It is, and always has been, only about the reality of what is. And what is, is that you were unable to anticipate my deception. No one could, because it was outside the domain of your thoughts. What is, is that the current way the Soul Society operates is tainted, and I shall be the one to remedy it."

You drew another shuddering breath and looked down at the ground with a grim expression as your blood continued to pool at your feet. Briefly, you even considered unsheathing yourself from his blade and take the chance to make a run for it, but the chances of you making it to the outside world, let alone coming across someone before you bled out and died were slim. Besides, it was clear that you couldn't even trust your own senses anymore after Aizen demonstrated that he had complete control of your reality.

Which reminded you of something else.

" . . . when?" you asked the same question again, but much quieter than before, despair palpable in your voice. 'When and how did you subject me to your zanpakuto's Complete Hypnosis?', is what you were really asking. And being as intelligent as he was, the spectacled man understood.

Abruptly, with a large palm on the small of your back, Aizen used his gentle hold grip to pull you towards him in order to close the remaining distance, causing him to drive the remaining length of his zanpakuto all the way through until the tsuba of his blade rested against your stomach. You looked like a skewered piece of meat.

You didn't have the willpower to hold back the piercing shriek of agony and physical anguish as tears sprung forth from your eyes. You could no longer tell if your blurry vision was due to your tears obstructing your sight or if it was from being a step away from death's door.

"Do you remember . . . the first time we met?"

The hand that rested on your lower back slowly glided upwards until his fingers found your jaw. With a tenderness that reminded you of a time before his betrayal, he lifted your chin and guided your gaze to look at him directly. His thumb moved to graze your bottom lip just as you've done mere hours ago━ as if he knew that, as if he watched you do it. His thumb was dangerously close to slipping inside your mouth and that both excited and scared you. Your breasts against his, your breaths synchronized with his, your body and his were fully pressed against each other and it made focusing on his question more difficult.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. The first time . . . we met? Sure, with a little bit of effort you could easily recall the first time you formally met Aizen. It was sometime in the spring, and you remembered him running through combat formations with his lieutenant and the rest of his squad. But why d━

A silent gasp left you. Another epiphany, another figurative blade piercing your heart.

Battle formations, and he . . . offered you to join them . . . his zanpakuto . . . . .

Confusion crumbled away, and was replaced with vacant horror and sadness. It seems you've already been defeated, for many, many years now.

Aizen seemed to murmur something under his breath, a pleased sound you couldn't quite decipher. His mouth brushed over yours, rendering you literally speechless, before he closed the distance and brought your lips together. You could barely process what was happening.

It was ironically tragic how soft and skillfully gentle his lips were against yours. The kiss felt longing, like a departure between two sweethearts and their last meeting together. It also felt heavy and final, making you want to cry.

And you did. Silent tears streamed from your eyes and rolled onto the fingers that still held your face so affectionately. The captain reacted by guiding your chin up a little further, dipping his head a little lower, so he could deepen the kiss. You weakly scorned yourself for thinking about how the two of you must really look like lovers now, sans the sword sticking out from your back.

Oh, how cruel this was; how cruel he was. It was cruel for him to kiss you like this, hand still splayed on your back like he needed to touch you stay sane. And how cruel it was that still managed to enjoy it, even as you stood there dying. Your lips moved together in tandem, slow and almost passionate, all while tears stained the apples of your cheeks, drying up the plush youth that once resided in them.

Aizen's tongue had slithered its way into your mouth, and you suddenly felt like crying harder. There was a tart, sweet flavor lingering on his tastebuds, and you absently wondered what is was. Perhaps hibiscus from tea, you surmised. And he too tasted the sweet jasmine and citrus that clung your tongue and lips. At this, he chuckled quietly into your mouth, humming before retracting from you by a few inches so he could speak.

"I knew you would like the tea. It's sweet and flavorful, isn't it?" You hated how low his voice was, how its timbre pleasurably vibrated and rumbled against your lips, and you hated that lidded stare he gave you. You again thought it unfair that you couldn't even revel in the rare sight of Aizen's lips slightly wet because your lips were intertwined with his.

"I have to thank you for humoring me and my recommendations. I really appreciated it. And I also," you winced loudly and cried out in affliction as Aizen finally began to withdraw the sword from your body, "must to bid you farewell now. It seems you don't have any more time left, and this has dragged on for longer than it needed. I'm not surprised you've held out for this long, as I already knew you possessed commendable strength. But alas it wasn't enough. I am sorry that you have to die; it's rather regrettable that you happened to be that blade of grass that ended up underneath my foot."

Another wail was yanked from your chest as he steadily removed his sword from your abdomen. The pain was becoming excruciating, you would have collapsed by now if the taller man weren't holding you.

You saw two things before the light in your eyes had all but faded away. The first were the colors of faux pity and apathy that swirled in Sōsuke Aizen's irises, spiraling like a storm that was certain to wreak havoc in its wake. His gaze was devoid of any regret or remorse; the final metaphorical nail on the coffin. The second was a small smile.

But this wasn't one of his smiles you were familiar with. No wait . . . . the one you knew was simply a veneer of what is.

This smile was slanted, the corners of his lips tilted upwards and was sharp. Sharp enough to cut open your already gaping wound further and completely tear you apart, spelling out your demise. It looked insidious as if it were hiding razor-edged fangs. This was what is; Aizen's real smile.

"I. . . I see. Aize. . . ." were the last words you were able to manage. You didn't have the strength to be upset or hurt any longer, so you gave in to the exhaustion.

Your body permanently relaxed, long lashes veiling your now empty eyes as your arms lifelessly dropped to your sides. The captain found a disturbing amount of pleasure in his name being the final word you attempted to speak before succumbing to the sleep of death.

And even after the fact, the facade of doomed, star-crossed lovers persisted as your body slumped backwards. Aizen's strong forearm wrapped tightly around your waist being the only reason you didn't fall to the ground in a puddle of your own blood.

That day was the last anyone saw of you, your zanpakuto still laid idly in your room, its spirit destined to forever wander in the afterlife between worlds alone, eventually fading from existence without ever feeling the presence of its master again.

They had declared you missing by the end of the next day. Lieutenant Hisagi was probably the most perturbed about your sudden disappearance. Days, weeks passed, and they never located you. The Gotei 13 was left unsettled by the lack of progress, but ultimately had to rule your case inconclusive. Some believed that you were simply killed by a stray hollow, or even ran away from your duties because of the stress.

The news of what happened spread like wildfire across all the squads, that a high-ranked officer just up and vanished without a trace. The spirits and morale of the thirteen companies dampened, sorrow and worry swelling like a festering boil.

And that boil burst when Ryoka infiltrated the Soul Society, and when it was revealed that all of it was carefully orchestrated by Sōsuke Aizen.

Like a blade of grass that somehow snuck into one's sandals or in between their toes, during his time in Hueco Mundo, images of you flashed in his head at unexpected times when his mind was quiet. He'd remove the grass, tossed you aside, and moved on with his day. There was no room for you in the grand scheme of things. Such reminisces were beneath someone like him.

And yet.

He'd always find another piece of grass from the greenery he stepped on whenever he advanced a step in his plans. There you were again.

It was common knowledge that if you kept repeating the same action over and over, it will eventually wear you down.

━━━━━━ 鏡  ━━━━━━━

It was dark, and there was nothing.

There had been nothing for quite a long time now. Utter darkness and the abyssal shade of black engulfed every inch of Aizen's body and surroundings.

He saw nothing, the seals over his eyes too opaque to let anything through. And even if they weren't obscuring his vision, he would barely be able to see three feet in front of him; there was seldom a few lanterns in his cell to begin with. He felt nothing but the bindings that kept him imprisoned in one of the deepest pits of the Seireitei. At times it felt like even his internal organs had stilled in their functions. He heard nothing but the unrelenting quiet of his cell within Mugen's maw. The only thing that served as proof that he hasn't spontaneously grown deaf yet was the occasional muffled noise that originated from outside of the entrance. And even then, he could hardly hear much of anything.

Such is an ironic fate for someone who, with a stray thought and a glint of his blade, could control someone's senses and take away their free will to experience those senses in their reality. And now, he was stripped away of all of his in nearly every capacity.

Sōsuke Aizen was rendered stationary and stagnant, qualities he detested and were the antithesis of his ambitions and plans, perhaps even his existence.

Aizen had always believed in being in control of your own destiny and making your own choices; if you had the opportunity and the power to change something━ especially if it was something that was wrong, unfair or immoral━ then one should be able to move towards that goal by making change, even if by force. The former captain had always been intentional about his actions and his desires right from the start.

And yet, here he ended up.

Spending years strapped to a chair in this dark, cloistered hole, Aizen had nothing but time to reflect the reason for his arrest: that orange haired Ryoka boy, Ichigo Kurosaki. He had nothing but time to admit to himself and settle on the conclusion that his last battle with the substitute Shinigami . . . did something to him.

Fighting the Ryoka boy ignited something inside him that he previously believed would forever lay dormant.

The thrill of a challenge.

Adrenaline was injected into his veins with each clash of their swords, spreading far and wide across every inch of his body. It no longer reacted in the measured, calculative manner he had programmed it to, but with unadulterated, pure instinct and raw power━ all in an effort to not only withstand such potent spirit energy from his opponent, but to come out on top and win.

It made him feel alive.

Aizen's desire to be the victor in battle and in his philosophy━ to prove himself right━ both fueled him and consumed him so thoroughly it led to his own downfall. That was a rather difficult fact to acknowledge; so much so his head started to pulsate intensely whenever it crossed his mind one time too often.

All of it unfolded right in front of his eyes and yet . . . he didn't really see it happen.

As time passed during his perpetual incarceration, with hooded eyes, the former captain spent an unfathomable amount of time tossing and turning every single event that led him to this underground prison, even pondering his temporary release by the Head Captain Kyōraku to fight in the war. Scenarios both minor and significant displayed itself in front of his mind's eye as if he were watching a film.

Every so often, a blurred visage of your image would make a brief appearance, like the flickering sparks of a match before they were able to come to light, fading away into the void and were overshadowed by his other thoughts. It was as if his own consciousness and intentionally muted any manifestations of your existence in his memories. As if he wasn't able to or allowed to see them━ to remember you for too long.

Mentally reliving moments from the last several months, years, decades, centuries━ trying to analyze each moment and decipher where it could have went wrong━ turned out to be quite an exhausting task. His mind and body would grow heavier with inertia, and eventually he would succumb to the alluring pull of slumber. After some time he would rouse from his sleep, and continued from where he left off.

These were his daily activities day in and day out (even though he had trouble distinguishing day and night in his chambers) for years. He saw a positive side to it though. He'd instead think of it has him getting stronger because he had spent so long . . . thinking. Ruminating. Contemplating every possibility in the past, present, and future. His mind would become as sharp as his zanpakuto.

Aizen had always been intentional about what he did, what he said, and how he conducted himself. He was sure in his abilities to orchestrate an image━ a belief for others to have faith in, and act on it in order to further his goals. He was always sure in that image, knowing who he was and what he stood for.

Or at least, that's what he thought.

Aizen wasn't consciously aware that his certainty in this crafted image had already begun to waver. He could not and was unable to anticipate how severe these small fractures had become until after a certain lieutenant paid him a visit outside his cell of confinement, right before he was scheduled to be thrown back into that dark hole of the Mugen.

Lieutenant Shuhei Hisagi was quite emotive when he burst through the doors. His expressions were contorted in volatile mixture of frustration, anger and sadness. His emotions were every which way, directed at everything that has happened so far, including himself. He was especially emotive at Aizen specifically for what he did to former captain Kaname Tosen and 'corrupting him with his twisted ideals.'

Aizen found amusement in that.

Before he was rolled away by the punishment force and therefore out of earshot, a particular set of Hisagi's words caused the small, content smile on his lips to uncurl ever so slightly. "Everything . . . and everyone that has ever gotten themselves involved with you has been trampled on by you and your ideals one way or another, and they all end up dead. If you think what you did to Captain Tosen was justified━ to call it mercy . . . . . then there is truly no justice in this world. You will . . . forever be the enemy in my eyes."

There was a trembling anger in his voice. Pain that wanted to cry out and be set free but, the thin lid of reason prevented it from doing so. And after a moment of silence, the corners of Aizen's lips curved upwards once more. A little bemused, a little more wolfish this time. He maliciously imagined Hisagi's reaction if he ever discovered the true reason for your disappearance.

But instead, all he said was. "What an interesting thing to say, Shuhei Hisagi. Your conviction is admirable." Any evidence of emotion that might have been reflected in his sepia irises was swallowed up and obscured by the darkness of the Mugen's jaw.

The cracks in Aizen's sense of self, in his beliefs, in the image he invented started to cave under the weight of Hisagi's words before he himself realized it was happening. They were like stains in the fabric of his mind that refused to come out.

What puzzled him more, was that with each attempt to figure out just why Hisagi's words echoed in his mind, they all lead back to you, the third seat of the 9th squad. Annoyingly so.

The tattooed lieutenant hadn’t said anything particularly profound ━ at least, Aizen didn't think so. Your name didn’t even fall from his lips. So why were memories of you and your likeness the only clear thoughts he could make of Hisagi's speech? Was it because he was aware of how close the two of you were? He doubted the reason were that trivial and insignificant.

His thoughts grew more discordant by the day, his soul a little more weighted than usual. Perhaps these new seals that Urahara had fashioned actually had an effect on him, Aizen thought. It made sense. His intellect, other than his own, were the only ones capable of creating such effective restraints.

After a while, he had a revelation. This was a different kind of weight.

This heaviness, the closest word he knew to describe it as . . . . was loneliness.

Time taunted him as it seemed to drag on━ Aizen grew even less sure of how much━ when he came to this realization. Hisagi's words were a clear mirror to the loneliness that echoed within him after what happened to you and to Tosen. It was so . . . potent, that it seemed to strike some chord in Aizen he had never heard before.

Such a chord, this sound of loneliness, it was strange and uncomfortable; he wasn't very fond of this sensation. He'd try to scrub it away, but it was all for naught.

His eyes had slid shut at some point, his ruminations leading to dead ends and wearing him down. And, almost as expected, there you were again, in all your translucent glory. The hem, the sleeves, and even the smell of your yukata slowly dragged across his dreams, haunting his thoughts like a lonely wraith.

And Aizen hardly dreamt of anything.

When he regained consciousness he was plagued with yet another epiphany. An additional reason behind this newfound depth.

Aizen's own loneliness. Guilt. Much to his own quiet horror.

How foreign and unusual a thing like guilt is. It was like looking into a mirror and not recognizing something you had never noticed before, but wondered if it had always been there.

But the thing Aizen did recognize, how lonely he actually felt, was something he had hoped would never resurface again. It was a notion he hadn't had the time or regard to consider━ 'loneliness'. Its only purpose, if any, was solely to serve as a motivator. At times though, it was more like a hindrance.

Something akin to nausea slowly started to bubble up in the pit of his stomach, but he suppressed the sensation before it became any more intense.

What of his previous actions did he need to feel guilty for? He hadn't felt it then, so why would he feel it now? Again he ruminated such a question endlessly into oblivion.

The former captain had no doubts that his plan to remove the Soul King, and therefore the Soul Society's sins, were necessary.

Nor did any hesitancy about removing the opposition or dead weight━ whether shinigami or arrancar━ existed.

He certainly had no reservations against killing Kaname Tosen, for he knew the man well enough to know that Tosen would have been so thoroughly appalled with what he had become, it would have drove him mad.

So what was it, then? Why were such useless emotions as guilt and loneliness being amplified n━

"Y....know, S....."

Even covered by the seals, Aizen's eyes widened and his brows were slightly furrowed in distress. Had his mind finally tipped the scales of sanity and madness, to the point where he was hearing things?

It was quiet for several moments longer, before his senses caught onto the sound of water dripping onto a hard surface.

One drop at a time.

Its cadence a little too rhythmic to be natural. And for a second time, he heard that soft, ominous sounding whisper. Its voice a little clearer this time.

"You...know.....Sōsuke."

In the second it took for his eyes to flutter shut behind its seals to blink, when he reopened them, he was no longer sealed to the walls and floors of the Mugen, nor was he surrounded by every shade of darkness imaginable. His limbs and senses were finally freed to breathe for the first time in what felt like ages.

That relief was short-lived when his senses absorbed the unending landscape of water underneath his feet, water lilies lifelessly floating on its surface, and the dim sky illuminated by a full pale moon.

Aizen was in his inner world, and now he was aware of how he got here, or rather who brought him here.

"You . . . already know the answer to that question, Sōsuke." The voice was even more clear, its sentences more comprehensible. And it sounded it eerily like you.

Why the voice was impersonating your likeness had caught him off guard for half a second, but he realized it was only the work of his zanpakuto, Kyoka Suigetsu.

An illusion it may be, there was an untouchable quality about your voice and how you spoke that even Kyoka Suigetsu couldn't replicate.

A few feet away from him, the water was disturbed by a being emerging from the depths. Ripples formed around a manifested version of his zanpakuto, who took the form of you, smiling ever so gently. The smile felt airy, and it didn't seem like the same one that haunted his dreams and every waking thought as of late. It felt....knowing.

Still, the former captain couldn't be bothered to maintain eye contact with his sword spirit, so he turned around and opted to keep his unreadable stare trained on the vast expanse of water and white lilies.

"It's been quite a while since I have stepped foot into this realm. There must be something you want . . . Kyoka."

The zanpakuto chuckled, it sounded like the way you would softly laugh at one of his clever quips. But this wasn't you.

He didn’t want to admit that something about that fact didn’t sit right with him.

"Judging from your tone, would I be correct in assuming you don't want to be here?"

Silence rang out within the soul scape, before Aizen interrupted it, his gentle voice colored a shade darker, and a little rigid. "And I fail to see the reason why you must take that form when you revealed yourself to me. Is your aim to get a reaction out of me? Or something along those lines?"

Your eyes━ the eyes of Kyoka Suigetsu━ narrowed at its master's back, as if they were trying to create concavities in his skull. But the expression was washed away the moment it appeared, the serene smile from before was back in place.

"You know . . . it's considered quite rude to not look at someone when you're addressing them. That, and when you deliberately ignore things they say. Your manners have been deteriorating, Sōsuke. Tsk, tsk."

Kyoka-dressed-as-you suddenly appeared before him, as if they had teleported. Even when they were in his peripheral vision, Aizen still maintained his stare off into the distant nothingness.

"Unless, you can't find it in yourself to look at me. . . that's correct, isn't it? It's because I look exactly like her, right?" The zanpakuto continued to provoke him, taking a step closer into his personal space.

With an exasperated sigh, his eyelids fell shut for a second, using that time to gather the strength he didn't know he needed, and directed his gaze to meet his spirit's. Aizen's face gave nothing away, but his heart lurched about his chest when his bronze eyes met with yours, or what was made to look like yours. The undesired affect it had on him was all the same.

"If you wish to chastise me about manners, I suggest you take your own advice. You didn't answer my first question, either: what is it you want? Why am I here?" Again the former captain chose to not address the other parts of Kyoka's statement. For the sake of his sanity and his thinning patience━ or was it to preserve his resolve?

Its smile widened a bit, moving another step closer to their master. God, Kyoka even smelled like you, mimicking your signature honeyed scent that Aizen didn't realize he found so intoxicating until this very moment.

"I called you here to save you from yourself."

Aizen remained silent, only narrowing his eyes in speculation. "Meaning?"

"Didn't I already say it earlier? I think you already know what I'm talking about, Sōsuke. You've always known."

Fate's pairing of Kyoka Suigetsu with Aizen was a match crafted from the spindles of heaven, but also a maddening curse pulled from the depths of hell, for they complimented each other a little too well. The zanpakuto was too perfect a reflection of Aizen and his soul, looking at it started to hurt his eyes.

His sword spirit insisted that he already knew the reason for his coming here, and perhaps he did have an inkling the moment the light of epiphany was shone on his profound loneliness and guilt. But that couldn't have been what it was referring to . . . . could it?

"You cannot feign ignorance here, my dear Sōsuke, however I do find it rather humorous you bother trying. If you'd like, I don't mind humoring you by spelling it out for you. I'd be glad to unearth the truth that you have buried in the most neglected corner of your heart."

"When you were . . . . subjecting yourself to such mental torment, it had an affect on this world as well. The ripples, the waves in this scape become quite . . . tumultuous." The nuances in your voice were perfected by his zanpakuto, but the way it talked sounded like a fog that was gradually closing in from over the horizon. The uneasy feeling that resided in his chest traveled down to his stomach, but Aizen's face remained steely, even when Kyoka Suigetsu took that final step to close the gap in between them. "And the reason for that, the reason why Hisagi's words rattled you so is because you regret killing that woman."

The creased line in Aizen's brow grew more prominent as he stared down his sentient sword spirit. With its breast pressed against his, they placed a hand on his clothed chest in a tantalizing manner, but he felt nothing. There was no warmth from its palm, much unlike when your hand touched him. There wasn't even a cool sensation either. Even minutes before your death, your touch brought a soothing heat that permeated through his shihakusho and penetrated his skin.

Kyoka's face grew nearer, their smile━ although still tender looking━ grew cold at its edges, nearly resembling that of a predator eager to see despair reflected in the eyes of its prey. It didn't fit the graceful allure of your face at all, and seeing this expression deeply unsettled the former captain more than he would like to admit.

"You regret . . . killing me."

A chill tore through Aizen's body, the weight of Kyoka's words adding onto the heaviness that still hasn't been alleviated from his heart; he was hardly able to suppress the involuntary shiver.

Without warning, Kyoka's mouth suddenly became dangerously close to their master's, its lips brushing against his in a provocative manner. Aizen's expression darkened when he realized that it was reenacting his last encounter with you when you were alive. His mouth started to grow uncomfortably dry, despite his soul scape being full of moisture, and there was a taste on the back of his tongue that's been lingering there since he arrived.

The lilt in Kyoka's tone continued to taunt him. "That is the reason for your guilt: regret. You have been in denial. And in the spirit of unearthing truths, I suppose I can admit that perhaps . . . . I've been . . . . encouraging said delusions, adding drops of fuel into the flames of your emotions and ambitions. But after all that's happened, when it comes down to it there's no point in continuing this hallucination any longer. I've grown tired of this game, so it's time to for you wake up now, Sōsuke. I've brought you here to release you from your own illusion, to completely shatter it."

Aizen's back was as stiff as a board, not moving a millimeter when Kyoka's lips grazed his again. They were breathing softly onto his mouth, but he hardly felt any puffs of air.

The former captain was having a rather difficult time processing the fact that his zanpakuto had its own agenda and had been manipulating his emotions without him noticing. Specifically the emotions he felt towards you.

He never truly believed that such a thing was possible, one's own blade having such a deep-rooted influence━ no, control over their master. Or would it be more accurate to say that he never expected himself to be controlled to such a degree? He that prided himself on being freed from the marionette strings of fate that were tied to his limbs and mind, he that relished being able to do what he wanted, think what he wanted, feel what he wanted━ or what he didn't want━ it was hard to believe that none of that mattered in the end.

Kyoka Suigetsu's deceptive abilities were indeed undeniably perfect. No one, not even Aizen himself could have anticipated that Kyoka's most absolute and complete hypnosis would be enacted on himself.

"Do you know now, Sōsuke? Do you understand?" Kyoka's voice was as soft as a whisper, but it couldn't hide the edges of its tone that were still sharpened from finding amusement of seeing the truth flash across its master's face. "You had destroyed the solution to your existential question of loneliness, before you could fully understand the question itself."

Yes . . . . . Aizen understood now.

He didn't bother acknowledging what Kyoka had said. His grim facial expression━ still, tinged with dolor, and paired with an indescribable, distant look his eyes━ said all that it needed to. His silence was as much as an admission as any.

Kyoka-dressed-as-you leaned forward again to fully close the gap between their lips and Aizen's. Tenderly, like the intentions of a lover, it spoke against his nearly closed mouth. "Have you figured it out yet?"

Nothing but quiet could be heard between them, as Kyoka's mouth moved about their master's face and placed something like kisses upon its surface, but not quite.

Aizen's cocoa-shaded eyes slide down to stare at his sword spirit pressed up against him. His gaze was hard, and yet something swam underneath its surface that his zanpakuto had never seen before. Melancholy, it guessed? They weren't quite sure.

Kyoka pressed on when Aizen remained quiet. "The taste in the back of your mouth. Have you figured out what it was? You know it quite well....."

Aizen's tongue grazed the roof of his mouth, sensing the rather unpleasant taste that has coated the inside of it. And within a moment, because he was faced with the current circumstances, Aizen had finally placed a name associated this particular taste. How unfortunate this was.

Upon his realization, Aizen's head lowered, and his brown tresses hung freely over his lashes. Perhaps it was so Kyoka couldn't properly see whatever remorseful expression painted their master's face, but it mattered not. Even from here, the sword spirit could already sense exactly what it was he was feeling.

And they loved it.

"It's a sweet and flavorful taste, isn't it? Quite lovely." Kyoka Suigetsu mimicked the exact words he uttered against your lips all those years ago when he tasted jasmine tea on your tongue, and sealed your death with a kiss. "It's too bad you don't seem to enjoy it anymore."

Aizen's chest continued to rise and fall calmly, and the hands of his sword spirit that rested there glided upwards to cup his strong jaw, caressing his skin with its thumb. Its phantasmic touch did nothing to stir their master.

"Sōsuke, do you know what the jasmine flower from that tea symbolizes?"

Aizen's lips were slightly parted, but again he didn't say anything. Instead, its corners twitched and lifted upwards by an inch, and he huffed softly.

Kyoka Suigetsu grinned in reply. "Good."

The next time Aizen blinked, he was plunged in darkness yet again. The restrictive feeling that swallowed his being whole had returned, and was an indicator that his zanpakuto had released him from his inner world. He was consciously back in the Mugen, back in this abyss they called a prison cell.

Kyoka was indeed as much as a formidable force in its own right, as much as, if not greater than Aizen himself.

The conversation he had with his sword spirit would be cemented in his head for all eternity. When he grew senile and began to physically wither away, the one thing that would remain vital like a young heart, was this epiphany that he had. This realization that he actually . . . .

As the chains of despair bound him tighter to the bottom of the metaphorical pit, regret and his loneliness corroding his flesh and spirit like metal exposed to moisture, a stray memory of his time in Hueco Mundo flashed in his mind. He recalled having tea prepared for meetings with his Espadas and he could not pinpoint when, but at some point, Aizen developed an aversion for jasmine flavored tea. For one reason or another, he no longer found its taste appealing; whenever he drank it, it always tasted bitter.

Now that reason had become painstakingly clear.

The binding on his mouth muffled a rueful chuckle at the though, and it trapped the flavor of jasmine on his lips.

(#) @soaringmirror @stygianoir @ryukenzz @blkjupiters @chrissie2003 @nymphoheretic @dejwrld @triangularz @souyaszn @kuujo @honeybleed @valentineluvu . let me know if you’d like to be apart of my tag list ♡♡.

[veliseraptor]

i was not!tagged by @feralkwe and decided this looked like fun so

Rules: Go to your published works on AO3 and list the first fic you ever published there, the last fic you published, any fic that you wrote for a fandom/ship only once, your favorite fic you wrote in the fandom/ship that has the most works, the fic you wish more people read, the fic you agonized over the most, the fic that sprang fully formed from your mind without any effort, and a work you are proud of—for whatever reason.

the first fic you ever published there: This was a bit of a challenge and relied on my memory because of all the fics I've posted backdated, but since I knew it was a Yuletide fic and I joined in 2009...apparently I wrote a fuckton of fic for Yuletide that year, but I think it was either The Gravedigger, Lingering On, or Memorial.

the last fic you published: I need to finish editing and posting the fic I'm stalling about and have been for the last three weeks. But as of right now the most recent fic I posted was jiggety-jig, a short little thing about Pete being very fucked up psychologically.

any fic that you wrote for a fandom/ship only once: If I count 616 as one fandom (rather than parsing out by series) which I feel like I should, then I'm going to go with we too (three) could be glorious, my (thus far!) only Crimson Peak fic, though I'd kind of like to write more.

your favorite fic you wrote in the fandom/ship that has the most works: good god am I meant to look through the 293 (jesus) works I wrote for the MCU trying to remember/decide a favorite? I guess the answer is "yes, Lise, you chose to do this meme." I ended up pretty proud of Will to Live, I guess. It was a fun concept and I'm pretty pleased with the execution of it. Maybe I should reread that one. If I can cheat and do a series, though, I might have to choose Remember This Cold, even if not all of it is created equal - I just am proud of the damn thing, unevenness or not. It's a magnum opus of some kind.

the fic you wish more people read: I have written a lot of fics, you guys, and there's a lot of them that I wish got more attention. I decided I got to pick five, and because considering I'm clocking in at just over 1k to choose from I think I can be forgiven.

let's start with two from my current main fandoms, the people are gone and the place is empty, an a-Qing and Xue Yang AU that I'll never continue even though I kind of want to, and like a trigger (get me ready to shoot), which isn't exactly underread overall but is one of my Kinnporsche fics that's less read and very important to me personally. I'm weirdly fond of Foundling though I understand why it's not everybody else's favorite fic, since it might tread too close to Odin apologism for some. For a flashback to Supernatural fic, (and we all end up alone) remains one of my favorites I wrote for that fandom. And then there's Ouroboros, the second-person fic about Ishamael. so I'm not surprised that people don't gravitate toward that one, but I like it.

the fic you agonized over the most: There's kind of two answers to this question, and it's sort of "the work I agonized over the most because it was hard technically" and "the work I agonized over the most because it took me eight years to write and that's a long fucking time to be writing a single thing and a lot of room for me to doubt myself a thousand times." And they're not the same fic!

I'm going to stick with fics that I actually have finished, because ones I haven't I feel like "agonized over" is self-evident. And for that...might have to award this one to (speaking of Remember This Cold) we live until we die, for being in at least some ways the culminating fic of nearly a decade of writing and having parts in it I'd been planning for five solid years. It was a lot of pressure (self-induced but perceived from outside as well) to be working under.

the fic that sprang fully formed from your mind without any effort: I know there are a few of these but the one that springs to mind immediately is could be raining. Had the idea and wrote it basically in the span of 24 hours and I don't remember any agony about it.

a work you are proud of—for whatever reason: I feel like as far as my longfics go the backyard is full of bones might be my best one. It is - and if you know me, you know it's very hard for me to say this - a good fic.

tagging anyone who wants to do this one. that means you. but especially @ameliarating, @lu-sn, and @fatalism-and-villainy.

[orionsangel86]

Figured I'd continue this as an ask so we don't keep debating on that poor person's post! Anyways, regarding Neil's edgelord tendencies:

What also throws me off about The Sandman Companion's rape interpretation of both Morpheus' marriage to Calliope and his relationship with Nada (it states that the women's story must be WORSE not better, than the version men tell, and pretty much the only way it could get worse is rape...) is that Neil... isn't shy about SAYING "rape" in the text. He doesn't hide what Madoc does to Calliope, nor what the book version of Desire did to Unity (which thankfully got changed to consensual in the show). So why this roundabout stuff with Morpheus? If the character being evil and abusive is supposed to be a core character trait, why relegate it to an obscure, if still canon, guide text?

My hope is that these particular edgelord interpretations are the work of the other co-author, Hy Bender. Alternately, I wonder if Neil was trying to retcon his own work at the time. I have no idea how the grimdark "Morpheus killing himself was good, actually" ending was received at the time, but I could easily see a situation where, like now, the fans look at the ending and go "yikes". Perhaps Neil was doing his best to cover and go "um well ACTUALLY you should be glad he finally offed himself, see how horrible he was!" even when it went against his original intent for those previous issues.

Like now, he might be able to look back and realize the nasty implications. But I could easily see younger-Neil as an author who just released their long-planned ending to a text scrambling for cover when it doesn't get the expected reception.

That's a TOTAL GUESS though. Like I said, I have zero idea how people felt about the ending in the 90s.

Ooof every new thing you tell me about that book makes me shudder and recoil.

Honestly I have no idea what Neil's intentions were with signing off on those interpretations, and I still struggle with understanding his intentions for the ending of the Sandman, other than the obvious being a "what NOT to do if you are feeling depressed and incapable of improving your life", which sometimes gets a bit lost amongst all the misery and angst with zero pay off throughout the Kindly Ones. Do we know what the initial reception was to the ending of the Sandman when it was first released though? Because hasn't it always been critically acclaimed highly praised and considered one of the all time best graphic novels ever published? It's Neil's Magnum Opus.

I think we have both now mentioned more than a few times that the 90s were a totally different era with a totally different mentality to today. A lot of the stuff in the Sandman comics are eyebrow raising because the different mentalities of the era are so obvious to me. The general portrayal of women in particular is pretty um... outdated and on my first read of the Calliope issue I visibly recoiled at that panel where she is raped by Madoc - because I legit had never seen something like that depicted so graphically before in that artform. But you are right to point out that if Neil wanted Morpheus to be viewed as an abuser and a rapist, then he would have just put it in the comics. Desire is a rapist, and yet people still love Desire.

The show is a much better indication of where Neil's intentions currently lie. The removal of any graphic scenes of sexual violence towards women was absolutely the right decision. Dream is a far more likeable character in the show (and I still like comic!Dream even with his somewhat cold demeanor!) I could scream all day about the absolutely brilliant changes in the Calliope episode which come across so romantic and soft that fans are legit shipping them together (which I don't think anyone can possibly do with their comic counterparts). I think the change in the Dolls House to Desire and Unity's whole situation also has huge implications for Desire's character which fascinates me. In the comic it is literally a one time thing where Desire rapes her while she sleeps and probably never considers her again outside of keeping an eye on their child as part of their scheme. The show however indicates that Desire took the time to get to know Unity, to woo her, and to enter into an apparently long term relationship with her in the Dreaming.

I 100% believe they are going to change the story in Tales in the Sand and I think that they left it out of season 1 because it's going to be a huge indication on how the show will deviate from the comics further. I hope they do away with all that stupid virginity stuff (because I'm sorry but shoving a rock up your vag to break your hymen is NOT losing your virginity and that particular part always baffles me. Dream doesn't care about virginity? Well good for him but like, she's still a virgin anyway? Otherwise you are legit stating that this poor girl lost her virginity to a slightly sharp dick shaped rock? Come on people I thought this was obvious? There are better ways to indicate to your audience that your main character doesn't have a virginity kink. Sorry for ranting about that but it really pissed me off when I first read it because it was SO STUPID).

Basically, whatever the Sandman Companion stated is gonna be forgotten about completely when the show releases its new episodes and we see show!Dream be even more the romantic hero. I think we can be confident that any modern interpretations will do away with these 90s edgelord interpretations and thats the best thing we can ultimately hope for. I won't let it tarnish my opinion of comic!Dream though, because there is more than enough evidence in the comics that contradicts some bullshit interpretation that makes no sense.

[thornpuck]

On Projects

My personal work journey began with the virtual pet game. And I was so pumped about that. Unfortunately, I couldn't code, and I couldn't find a coder to collaborate with. So I abadoned that project.

Next, it was the Aliens animated kids book. And this one was going well, but I couldn't justify finishing it off as it was going to be 100 percent free and practice for my bigger project, The Vial. I couldn't justify spending so much time on what was going to be getting me no money to live. So I abandoned that project.

Then I finally began work on The Vial animated kids book. I worked on it diligently for a couple of months and everything was going well, and then *poof* all motivation to work on it disappeared. I think I should probably not have jumped into my magnum opus, a puzzle game animated kids book app, right after burnout. I think I'm still burned out tbh and getting myself to work on it was like pulling teeth. I'm still trying to recover from like, a severe mental breakdown and I think I have to be a bit gentle on myself while I heal. But that doesn't make the fact I couldn't work on it any less heartbreaking.

So now I'm working on a small kids book, not animated, not an app. Just pencil and paper, send it to publishers, see if they like it. It might be no one picks it up, but I'd be happy enough with that. I just want to work on something easy and small to ease back into work.

Honestly I feel like such a failure. Like I had all this spare time and savings to work on something and my brain is just like, 'nope lol'.

Trying to work on just being able to draw is a whole thing. I've taken strides in getting better at not being anxious about drawing... but it's still not great.

Like I sound so hyperbolic, but literally everytime I go to draw, I have to consider: "Am I prepared to have a mental breakdown if drawing doesn't go the way I want it to?" because if I don't draw well my brain is filled with feelings of failure and self hate and it's a whole thing.

I thought these new meds I was on had fixed the issue - they were like a magic bullet and everything was going fine. But they've stopped working now and I'm not sure if it's a dosage problem, or a placebo, or something else. But it's clear I can't rely on them and I need to like, actually do some work. Which is a shame because I am very tired.

This has been another sporadic update on where I'm at. If you read this far, thanks.

[satashiiwrites]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💖

Self rec? I have to pick amongst my children fics? this is like terrible. so terrible @radio-chatter

But if I have to pick…. In no particular order a cross section, if you will, of my various writing tendencies:

1) An Andromeda Tale: The Making of a Pathfinder and a King. Mass Effect Andromeda, the slowest of slow burns MReyder endgame fic.  This is my magnum opus MReyder fic that I swear to Anubis I will finish it eventually.  It’s at >600k and still going.  This was I think the first thing I published on AO3 (or close to it).

Summary: Scott Ryder never saw his life going this way, not that anyone ever asked him his opinion. Now he's pathfinder with too many people depending on his young shoulders and trying to figure out what he actually wants for himself. Reyes Vidal, man of mystery, former pilot and now sometimes smuggler. Who knows where he came from or his motivations but he's come to Andromeda to change his destiny. What neither Scott nor Reyes could have predicted is what their lives would be once they came to Andromeda.

2.  The Dream of the Symbiote’s Host.  Venom.  Symbrock. Complete at 4,511 words. What can I say?  I never thought I’d write tentacle porn but I suppose this is why you should never say never.  It’s a one shot and well…. Yeah it was fun to write.  Might someday dip my toes back in the Symbrock pairing.  I’m also totally blaming this one on you @radio-chatter.

Summary: Eddie’s been holding out on Venom. An accidental side trip into an interior decorations shop reveals something he hadn’t intended for Venom to ever learn about him and it’s all that art print’s fault.

3. Family, Familia, ’Ohana. 911, H50 and SWAT crossover. Eventual Buddie, McDanno and implied Hondo/Deacon platonic (or not). Navyseal!EvanBuckley. Wip at 81,451 words. This is my other, more popular, long work. I just love the pairings involved and my imagination was fed too much Jack Johnson music and this happened. Also my most popular fic on AO3 by a good margin.

Summary: When one family seems lost another comes back from the past. But does Buck want to return to the past or live in the present? And does his present lead to a future he wants? Only he can answer these questions but Steve at least will be there to support him.

4. The Outlaw and the Cartel Boss. Mayans MC. Miguel Galindo/Ezekiel ”EZ” Reyes, Coco Cruz/Angel Reyes. WIP at 98,569 words. Sentinel/Guide AU that ignores almost everything canon. Everyone has that extreme rarepair, can’t exist in canon idea that is possibly overindulgent. This is my version of that. I haven’t even seen much of the show but I really love the work of several of the actors in this show so I smashed my minimal knowledge in with my favorite fanfiction trope and this is what you get. It’s still a wip. I know I haven’t posted in a while but I am still—very slowly—working on it. I think this is the most developed sentinel/guide story I’ve written so far but it’s a trope that I’ve revisited several times now (see my versions of Buddie and Mreyder for this trope too).

Summary: EZ Reyes came online with his mother’s violent death and suffered the consequences of his actions in the aftermath. When Jimenez offers him a deal to turn evidence in on the Galindo cartel, he agreed as he’d brought shame on his tribe by his actions and it was a chance at redemption that he didn’t feel he deserved. He just didn’t anticipate who his guide would be and the amount of trouble they’d generate for him. Miguel had goals—to legitimize the family business, enjoy life and his family. He didn’t anticipate any of the events that forced him online as a guide but now that he has a sentinel he’s not letting him go.

5. A Soul’s Weight. Mass Effect Andromeda. Implied eventual MReyder. Complete. 1,376 words. Does not require any knowledge of Mass Effect. I debated a long time which other fic to recommend to people but this is a short one-off I wrote in literally about an hour that I still find myself coming back to again and again and debating writing more in this particular alternative universe. It’s quite different from most of my other writing but I think that’s also what makes it so interesting. Ancient egyptian diety? Implied multiverse? Taking fanon to the limits? Guilty. Short but sweet but would be the intro to MReyder of mine that I would recommend. Or I suppose you could read Seguir (another AU).

Summary: The futures he had seen taunted him, drew him, seduced him. The possibilities that Scott Ryder presented were... intriguing.  The cry of the ibis called across the sands, chased by the howls of the golden wolves of Anubis that hunted this night.

[throwrocksatthem]

Salvaging Writing advice from r/selfpublish

I have a bunch of saved posts from writing advice subreddits. In the interest of preservation, I'm going to move some of those resources over to here.

Useful Services for self-publishing and creating mailing lists

Vellum is a service for formatting ebooks. Haven't used it but it seems fine if Scrivener is being Scrivener and failing at formatting, though I'd be tempted to pay someone at Fiverr to format it for you, if your really struggling that bad.

Publisher Rocket is a data analysis program that lets you search through Amazon keywords. It's kinda hard to use effectively and its not as useful as the advertising makes it seem. If your trying to write frequent novellas to fill niches, this might be a very useful tool. If your working on your magnum opus, this is pretty useless.

Wordpress is the website builder I use. It was easier to build what I wanted, than when I tried alternatives like Squarespace. There's lots of other stuff you can add in with the premium version, but I'm dumb so I don't do that. Pretty easy to pay for a custom URL and maintain a nice, simple website. All I need.

Mailchimp is bad and I hate it. Its very hard to navigate and confusing to set up. I tried using it for a mailing list, and accidentally set up a welcome email that had my personal address on it, and for the life of me I could not work out how to change it. There's a website builder as well, but don't waste your time unless your smarter than me. I'm putting it here cause it's very popular. An alterative is Sumo but I've never used it.

Instead, I use Substack. Its meant to be used as a kind of patreon alternative, with subscribers paying to receive updates via email or via the site, but you can make updates free, so as far as I understand it can function as a mailing list, and it's much more simple to setup.

Other alternatives that I've never tried are Sendfox, Mailerlite, SendinBlue, Sendfox, Sendbay, Amazon SES and the FluentCRM plug-in on wordpress,

Linktree is a tool for sharing your various URL's. You can add it as your one link on your instagram bio, or turn it into a QR code and include it in your book, so readers can scan it and be directed straight to various review websites. My wife used it to create business cards for her paintings. You've probably seen linktree before, but it's definitely worth drawing attention to here.

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

Hi, Rachel! I was wondering if you’ve written anything that you’re especially proud of recently. It doesn’t have to have been published. Love your YouTube videos! :)

First, thank you for sending this question! <3 I've been going through a hard time lately with finals season and missing home, so this is just a really nice message to receive!

I have written a couple things I'm really proud of! I guess this isn't technically recent, but last semester I polished up my short story Phantom State (used to be Phantom Limbs in D Minor then just Phantom Limbs and now it's Phantom State) and it's my favourite short story I've ever written, I think. For some backstory, PS was one of the very first short stories I wrote. I started it in grade 12, and it took me a very long time to actually complete a first draft (a year) which is a long time for someone who usually drafts my stories in one sitting. I actually vlogged this process HERE! While I was happy to complete the draft, the story was so far from being finished, haha. That draft was such a pieced-together mess of the year it took to write it, though the foundation of the story was there. Flash forward to working on the story with CPs, etc, I thought the draft was in a good place, and submitted it to a couple magazines before re-reading it last summer and just not liking it.

I decided to workshop it for my fiction workshop this year and I’m so happy I did because it really forced me to edit the story before I submitted it. SO MUCH labour went into bringing the draft into workshop, even though the changes were small (the smaller changes I find can be the most difficult). I’m forever going to keep my prof’s editorial letter for this story, lol, it means a lot to me. Idk, working on something for so many years on so many drafts (which is unusual for my short fiction process) and then FINALLY finishing it was such a magnificent feat. This story took me from age 17-20 to complete! My magnum opus, lol. The characters, especially our narrator, Linda, mean a lot to me. I don’t usually feel attached to my short fiction characters at all, but Linda feels like my baby! I was thinking of adapting this story into a novel for that reason.

In other news, I WROTE A REAL NOVEL OPENING!!!! I hate to say the Fostered books don’t feel like real novels, and absolutely not to discredit my own work because my work is great in those books, I just haven’t written a non-Fostered novel opening since, I think I’m Disappointed (omg)?? Anyway, if any of y’all were here for The Sun Only Drowns Us hype that happened in April 2020 before the project intimidated me so badly that I fled into writing Feeding Habits out of fear (lmfao), then y’all know what this book is about! Here’s the summary (it might be a bit outdated):

The summer the sun turns poisonous, 15-year-old Eva commits to living off-the-grid with her neighbour Lillian Radoccia and her children, Charlie, Vera, and Jack. Lillian is convinced the sun is an evil, poisonous force that drives people to their ultimate deaths, so to protect herself and her family, she swaps her bustling life in a small British Columbia town, for a secluded life on a desolate island. They settle at a remote cabin where they only live at night, which Eva is thrilled about at first, having come from an emotionally absent household, though she quickly realizes something is not right when Lillian’s only daughter, Vera, turns up dead shortly after her sixteenth birthday. Coupled with Lillian’s increasingly peculiar relationship with eldest son, Charlie, Eva’s new life as an honorary Radoccia child begins having more consequences than benefits.

I never finished the novel opening back then because I got so intimidated by the retrospective timeline where the narrator dips back in time during flashbacks. I am honestly short-storied out right now, and really felt nauseated by the idea of having to write another short story for workshop (literally nauseated, like I can’t do short fiction for another couple months lol!), so I chose to do a novel opening for my second submission this term as a change. I discovered the sort of apparated pieces of this opening and absolutely fell in love with the writing (2020 Rachel was SO GOOD at detail!!!) and the characters all over again. I’m very happy I never finished the opening back in 2020, because truthfully, I was not skilled enough to play with the timeline back then, which the chapter needed. 2022 Rachel was legit STRUGGLING through figuring out the timeline myself, and I think I finally fixed it?? I know there’s a writing vlog where I talk about this struggle... I can’t remember which one but oh god, I was so thrilled to have finished the chapter! Honestly, this is the biggest thing in my writing career that has happened in a very long time, because I’m debilitated by novel openings. They terrify me so much to the point where I cannot write (y’all don’t even know--I actually restarted writing the opening of Houses With Teeth for this workshop, another book I fear-quit, but then also fear-quit that LOL), so I was so relieved that this opening worked out.

I want to make a video reading some of the writing I’m really proud of recently (unfortunately no short fiction or poems that I want to get published but lots of novel stuff) so this ask also comes at the perfect time!

Anyway, this was fun! If anyone wants to learn more about these projects or want to read some excerpts, lmk...!!!

[coppicefics]

Masked Omens: Week Seven, Part One

[Image Description: Image 1 - A simple rendition of the Masked Singer UK logo, a golden mask with colourful fragments flying off of it. The mask has a golden halo and a golden devil tail protruding from either side. Below, gold text reads ‘Masked Omens’.

Image 2 - A page from the Entertainment section of the Capital Herald, dated 6th February 2021. Full image description and transcript below the cut. End ID.]

Read the fic here! All news stories and events are entirely fictional; real names of people (with the exception of image attributions) and places are used only for context. No affiliation is implied, and no disrespect is intended by the use of their names in this work of fiction.

[EDIT: With thanks to HolRose/@hasturswig for spotting that I had overlooked the sad passing of John Noakes, who originally appeared on this page!]

The Capital Herald - Saturday, 6th February 2021 Entertainment, page 15

Top left: Grasswater redo rumoured Will anybody tackle the ‘cursed’ adaptation? [Image Description: The ‘w’ in ‘Grasswater, ‘h’ in ‘the’, and ‘o’ in ‘adaptation’ in the above headline have been circled in pencil. End ID.] It's been nearly a decade and a half since the critically-acclaimed adaptation of Sir Thomas Parsett's The Grasswater Affair flopped into cinemas, and rumours are once again circulating about a possible reboot. The first attempt at transferring Parsett's magnum opus to the big screen was released in 2009 after a series of setbacks to the production process. Among the calamities that befell the set were a fire in the wardrobe department, an overdose requiring producers to recast the lead role of Fabian, and a bout of food poisoning that halted filming for over a week. There were whispers, among the more superstitious, that the film was cursed. By the time The Grasswater Affair was finally released, the delay had whipped the original book's fans into a frenzy of anticipation, and excitement over the forthcoming film actually pushed the 19th-century novel into the bestseller lists for the first time in the weeks before the release. Early reviews were promising, and the good press only fed the hype machine. But the crowds that packed into cinemas to watch it emerged disappointed; while the reasons they gave for their disappointment varied wildly, everybody from casual viewers to die-hard book lovers seemed to find it lacking in some aspect or another. It deviated too far from the source text, while adhering precisely to the minor details that didn't matter; it featured a young actor fresh out of drama school, rather than the promised household name; it lingered too long on shots of the actresses' bosoms, and the key object that proved key to the plot was left entirely out of focus in the background of a crucial early scene. While, naturally, some audience members enjoyed it in its own right, it never became either a blockbuster hit or a cult classic, and it still boasts a lowly 2.9 stars on the Internet Movie Database (IMDb) and 24% approval rating on Rotten Tomatoes. This being the case, it might be hard to understand why rumours continue to circulate about a revival of The Grasswater Affair, or what might make this time different from the many, many other occasions when such a story has surfaced on the internet. The first question is easily answered by a look at the thriving community of Parsett fans who adore the original novel – and, indeed, the rest of the series The Grasswater Affair is part of. Following first Fabian, and then various other heroes, through a sort of alternative 19th century underpinned by magic and other fantasy tropes, it's been hailed as a masterpiece – and it's aged surprisingly well despite the shift in society's views and tolerances since its publication. The first novel sees Fabian locked in a battle of wits with his somewhat older rival, Rafferty, as they seek to make their fortunes in a society rife with danger and – worse – scandal. As for the second question, the recent rumours have an extra ring of truth to them thanks to the attachment of an actual name – writer-turned-showrunner Noel Garmin is said to be in talks about the project. Having adapted several of his own books for the small screen, could he now be turning his famed respect for written source material to a film or series based on Parsett's masterpiece? If he does, book fans can expect to be very pleased with the result. Garmin was asked about his upcoming projects at a recent convention panel, and his answer, while enigmatic, seemed promising.“Well, I've got to write some books, at some point! But I do also want to work on some more TV, it's a fascinating way of telling a story and it's still quite new and exciting for me. Perhaps I could tell one of my favourite stories, one that I didn't originally write. I'm actually talking to some people... We'll have to see. Hopefully I'll have news for you soon.” Hopefully you will, Noel. Hopefully you will. CITRON DEUX-CHEVAL Top right: Summer’s operatic offerings Last of Glyndebourne festival announcements [Image Description: The apostrophe and ‘s’ of ‘summer’s’ and the ‘t’ of ‘operatic’ in the above headline are circled in pencil. Below the headline is a short, wide picture of a theatre auditorium with red curtains. Small text over the bottom of the picture reads ‘Photo: Gabriel Varaljay | Unsplash’. End ID.] Opera fans are in for a treat this summer, as Puccini's Turandot returns to Glyndebourne Opera House. The venue in Lewes is renowned as the home of great opera, and Turandot is a favourite no matter where it's performed, so this combination of the two is a perfect match. Throw in popular young tenor Jeremy Wensleydale – most recently seen on ITV's The Masked Singer - performing the role of Calaf, and it's a performance guaranteed to impress. The play follows Calaf as he sets out to win the hand of the titular princess. Each suitor is asked three riddles, and failure means instant death. But answering three riddles is not enough to win the heart of Princess Turandot, and Calaf strikes a desperate bargain; if she can guess his true name by daybreak, she may put him to death regardless. If she fails, the marriage goes ahead. It's an interesting method of courting, to be sure, but the opera has enchanted and delighted audiences for many years now. And, if nothing else, who can resist an opportunity to hear 'Nessun Dorma' live? Glyndebourne members can book tickets now for dates between 25th May and 22nd June; remaining tickets will be available from the 18th of April. Turandot is the latest title to be announced by the opera house and completes their summer season's line-up. There will also be performances of Cosi Fan Tutte, Tristan and Isolde, Il Turco in Italia, and an array of concerts and other events. The Glyndebourne Summer Festival is always a highlight of the arts scene in the middle of the year, but there are events all year round. Currently, the opera house is a stopping-point for a touring production of Romeo & Juliet, which has already passed through the Chichester Festival Theatre and will then go on to Colchester, Ipswich, Cambridge, Sheffield, Manchester and Leeds. The show is a daring new interpretation of the age-old Shakespearean tragedy, fusing music and dance with the familiar story, and a full review will appear in the Capital Herald on Thursday. From the middle of February, Romeo & Juliet will be replaced at Glyndebourne with a more traditional #approach to La Traviata by Giuseppe Verdi. The music of La Traviata may be familiar, even to audiences unfamiliar with the story, as it was rather liberally plundered for inspiration by Donato Lovreglio in 1865. Of course, that does assume a familiarity with Lovreglio - but if you find yourself humming along during your first attendance, that might very well be why. Incidentally, for more opera and classical music trivia, you might find my recent book, Inside Opera, worth a read - especially if you need to brush up on your cultured conversation points before you visit the opera house this summer. EDWARD BIGGS Inside Opera, by Edward Biggs, is published by Byker Press and is available now in all good bookshops. #Hardback RRP ￡9.99/€11.99.

Centre left: Capital Herald scoops NMA Star-studded ceremony honours news greats [Image Description: The ‘H’ of ‘Herald’, ‘A’ of ‘NMA’, and ‘t’ of ‘star’ in the above headline are circled in pencil.] The 2021 News Media Award ceremony took place on Thursday evening at a glamorous event held in the Mayfair Room at the Connaught Hotel, Mayfair. While many of the attendees are more used to operating the cameras than parading in front of them, they rose to the occasion with great aplomb, rubbing shoulders on the red carpet with some of the most famous entertainers in the UK who'd come to add their own special touches to the ceremony. It will come as no surprise to learn that Trevor McDonald, Natasha Kaplinsky, and Naga Munchetty were in attendance, as were Tom Bradby and Dan Walker. But the attendee who really got heads turning was Carmine Zugiber, notorious for attending very few events on UK soil. Although she's normally out in the field, she's been based in London for the last couple of months, covering the political beat for News World Weekly in Uriel Scrolle's absence, and it seems she couldn't resist the opportunity to collect her awards for Best Combat Coverage and Outstanding Field Reporting in person. Wearing a glamorous Ligur gown in striking red to match her hair, she paused on the red carpet to exchange words with some of those less fortunate reporters covering the event. “I don't know what to do with myself, with nobody shooting at me!” Zugiber joked. “Where's my bulletproof jacket?” The ceremony featured a performance of 'Messy (If I Want To Be)' by rapper P-White, who also presented an award for Entertainment Columnist of the Year to the Capital Herald's very own Citron Deux-Cheval. Another of the Capital Herald's staff writers, Edward Biggs, was nominated in the category of News-Adjacent Achievement for his 2020 trivia book, That Guy From That Thing. While the award, presented by Dame Angela Crowley, eventually went to News World Weekly's Donald Eath for High Score: A Study in Arcade Machines, Edward did get a chance to meet Dame Angela and exchange a few words. “She said I shouldn't feel discouraged, as she didn't win anything at her first awards ceremony either – and she wished me every success with my new book, which has just come out,” said Biggs of the star. “Hopefully, next year, I'll be bringing home a trophy too.” At the end of the night, as the winners and losers drifted home, the presses were already roaring into action to print the morning's papers. The news never stops; there was precious little time for the winners to enjoy the warm glow of appreciation, and no time at all for the less successful nominees to lament their losses. But at the end of the day, the whole industry could sleep safe in the knowledge that the work we do is valuable, and valued. MARY HODGES

Bottom left: Blue Peter garden party ‘22 Celebrating 10 years in show’s new location [Image description: The ‘B’ and ‘e’ of ‘Blue’ and the ‘h’ of ‘show’ in the above headline are circled in pencil. End ID.] The BBC has announced that it will be holding a party for former Blue Peter presenters, guests, and viewers in 2022. Held in the Blue Peter garden in Salford to celebrate ten years since it was relocated from London, the party is expected to provide an opportunity for Blue Peter presenters, past and present, to mingle and let their hair down, as well as catching up with some of the guests who've appeared on the show over the years. Former presenters such as Adam Young, Katy Hill, Radzi Chinyanganya, Anthea Turner, Gethin Jones, Pat Maputi, Yvette Fielding and Konnie Huq can expect an invite, of course, as can the current team of Lindsey Russell, Richie Driss, Mwaka Mudenda, and Adam Beales. But the former guests are an even more varied bunch; everyone from Idina Menzel and Sir Chris Hoy to McFly and Tim Peake could be invited, to say nothing of the hundreds of farmers, bakers, teachers, parents, and kids who've taken part in the show. While the party is quite a long way off yet, the BBC are already hard at work figuring out a lottery system that will allow them to give every viewer an equal chance to be invited to the party. Register your interest now on the Blue Peter website to make sure you don't miss out. SARAH JEUNE Ad, bottom right: [Image Description: A black background with a dark-grey crown resting on it. There are smudges of a lighter colour on the background. Above the crown, graffiti-style text reads ‘P-White’. Below it, written as if in chalk, are the words ‘Chalkdust tour’, underlined as if in chalk. Beneath it, a red bar reading ‘New dates added’ covers the words ‘Sold out’. Below that is the web address ‘www.chalkdust-tour.com’. Tiny writing in the bottom right hand corner reads ‘Photo: Zach Angelo for ProChurchMedia | Unsplash’. End ID.]

[End of transcript]

[misscrawfords]

So you want to read something like Jane Austen?

I see lots of posts where people answer this question with recommendations for classic historical romance authors like Georgette Heyer or more modern bodice-rippers like Julia Quinn or Tessa Dare. But to me that’s never quite the appropriate answer. Sure, if what you want is romance with country dancing and breeches, that’s fine, but surely if you want to read more things similar to Jane Austen, the best way to do that is to delve into her lesser known contemporaries. People Austen admired and people who admired her. People writing on similar themes and using similar language. 

So this is my list of 10 novels from the 18th and early 19th century that you might like to try if you’ve read Austen and want to branch out more. These are just personal recommendations and based off what I’ve read; I’m very happy to hear other suggestions!

Worth noting as well that all of these are available online or free for kindle download. :)

1. Evelina, or the History of a Young Lady's Entrance into the World by Fanny Burney (1778) Summary: Evelina Anville is a shy, innocent country girl who is invited to London by friends. Here, she attempts to navigate the complicated social mores of the season while keeping her integrity. She encounters handsome men, vulgar relations and gets into numerous alarming and hilarious scrapes along the way to discovering her true noble heritage and winning the love and hand of the charming Lord Orville. Why you should read it: A great first novel for Austen fans to get into who aren’t otherwise familiar with literature of the period. Burney’s first novel is sparkling, witty, filled with dialogue and not very long. The humour is more robust than Austen’s - it’s definitely Georgian rather than Regency - but a lot of the scenarios will be familiar to Austen readers. Particularly recommended for fans of Northanger Abbey, Sense and Sensibility and Pride and Prejudice and readers who like historical romances set during the London season.

2. Cecilia, or Memoirs of an Heiress by Fanny Burney (1782) Summary: Cecilia Beverley is an orphaned heiress who will only inherit her fortune on the very specific condition that her husband takes her name. Until she turns 21 she is left with three very different guardians - the profligate Mr. Harrell, the proud Mr. Delvile, and the vulgar Mr. Briggs. Cecilia must protect herself from the advances of the unscrupulous fortune hunters she meets and deal with her feelings for young Mortimer Delvile, whose family is excessively proud of its ancient name. Why you should read it: IMO Cecilia is a masterpiece. It’s a much longer and complex novel than Evelina but it contains fierce social satire and commentary of a world where women are horribly vulnerable and money rules all interactions pointing forwards to authors like Dickens and Eliot. Burney is a little more moralistic and less witty here but it’s a fascinating portrayal of a highly intelligent and capable, independent woman in a world where she is constrained by the men around her, in the kind of plot that romance novelists can only dream of. It’s also worth noting that Pride and Prejudice was arguably written as a response to Cecilia and it is very interesting to spot and consider the ways in which Austen was explicitly influenced by this novel and what she changed in writing Pride and Prejudice. Particularly recommended for fans of Pride and Prejudice and Emma. Please note that this novel contains a suicide and (period appropriate) mental illness.

3. Belinda by Maria Edgeworth (1801) Summary: Belinda Portman is sent to live with the fashionable Lady Delacour in London with whom she develops a strong friendship. Part of the plot deals with Lady Delacour’s fear that she has breast cancer and part with the customary romantic entanglements of a young girl out in the London season. Why you should read it: Maria Edgeworth was one of the most popular novelists of Austen’s day - and was far more commercially successful. Belinda is her second novel and has been compared to Austen for its natural portrayal of character. Lady Delacour is the most interesting character - a slightly older woman, independent, strong-minded and fearless. Particularly recommended for fans of Persuasion, Lady Susan, Sanditon and of potentially queer subtext, intriguing references to interracial marriages (look it up!) and 18th century surgery.

4. Patronage by Maria Edgeworth (1814) Summary: A magnum opus almost Dickensian in scale charting the rises and falls of two neighbouring families, the hard-working and virtuous Percy family and the ambitious, scheming Falconers. The daughters need marriages, the sons need careers and the paterfamilias of each family must make tough decisions about what he wants his family to stand for. Why you should read it: This novel is admittedly a brick and tough to get through at times but it really is worth it. You are plunged into Regency society in a way no other contemporary novel succeeds in with a large and varied cast of characters. The novel also takes you into the world of men and their professions in a way that Austen never does. Particularly recommended for fans of Mansfield Park (which was published in the same year) and people who want to learn more about Regency society in all its forms.

5. Rob Roy by Walter Scott (1817) Summary: Romantic Frank Osbaldistone leaves his father’s business in London to visit his cousins in north England where he meets and falls in love with the beautiful and charming Diana Vernon, gets caught up in a Jacobite plot and the scheming of his wicked cousin, Rashleigh, and meets the famous Scottish outlaw, Rob Roy. Why you should read it: There were several Scott novels that could be included here but I picked Rob Roy for its attractive portrayal of Diana, since Scott is not always great at writing 3D heroines Austen fans will like. Scott was the most successful novelist at the time, bursting onto the novel scene writing novels with a male protagonist at a time when most novels were by, for and about women. Scott and Austen admired each other a great deal despite writing in very different genres, with Scott writing historical romances rather than contemporary social satires. Particularly recommended for fans of Persuasion, Northanger Abbey and Pride and Prejudice.

6. The Mysteries of Udolpho by Ann Radcliffe (1794) Summary: Set vaguely in the 16th century, this most famous gothic novel follows the adventures of Emily St Aubert from her father’s French estate to Venice with her aunt, Madame Cheron after he dies and then, when her aunt marries the sinister Montoni, to his castle in the Italian Apennines.  Why you should read it: C’mon, it’s Udolpho! Don’t you want to know what’s behind the infamous black veil? Northanger Abbey will be 10 times better once you’ve read Udolpho and despite the excessive amount of fainting, overuse of the word “sublime” and far too many spontaneous reciting of poetry, it’s a genuinely engaging adventure novel with larger-than-life characters, daring adventures, and some really beautiful descriptions of France and Italy. Particularly recommended for fans of Northanger Abbey, obviously.

7. Nightmare Abbey by Thomas Love Peacock (1818) Summary: Utterly ridiculous gothic satire with a tenuous plot about a morose widower who lives with his son, Scythrop, in a crumbling mansion in Lincolnshire, but you’re not reading this for the plot. Why you should read it: I read it for university, having never heard of it before, and found it hilarious. Published in the same year as Northanger Abbey, it is similar in poking fun at gothic conventions. It depends on a reasonable knowledge of gothic novels and contemporary literature and philosophy so not a novel for beginners to undertake unless you have an edition with a commentary, but it’s very short and absolutely absurd. Particularly recommended for fans of Northanger Abbey and the Juvenilia.

8. Pamela, or Virtue Rewarded by Samuel Richardson (1740) Summary: Pamela is a maid in Mr. B’s house and must use all her ingenuity to fend off her employer’s advances and convert his many and increasingly desperate attempts to seduce her into a marriage proposal. Why you should read it: Pamela was a sensation when it was first published. Written in the form of letters, it was arguably the first novel to really get into the brain of a young woman and was quite radical in its treatment of the relationship between the sexes, consequently being highly influential on subsequent novels. Any of Richardson’s novels could deserve a place here - Clarissa is arguably his best but it’s ridiculously long and I haven’t read it, and Sir Charles Grandison was apparently Austen’s favourite novel but I also haven’t read it. Pamela is probably the most approachable but please note, in case the summary didn’t set off enough alarm bells, its depiction of consent is very much of its time. Particularly recommended for fans of the literary culture into which Austen was born.

9. Marriage by Susan Ferrier (1813) Summary: Lady Juliana rather foolishly elopes with an impoverished Scot and must adapt to living in his rundown estate in the Highlands. The first half of the novel deals with Juliana’s comic attempts to deal with this rough kind of living while the second half, set 17 years later, follows Juliana’s daughter, Mary, a virtuous girl, who goes to live in Bath with her cousins, including the “naughty” Adelaide. Why you should read it: Ferrier was another author much more popular than Austen at the time. Marriage is similar to Burney and Edgeworth in its plots and scopes and there are moments when she almost reaches Austen’s wit. It is, however, rather more heavy-handed in its obvious morality and in the way it contrasts its good heroine and bad (but far more appealing) anti-heroine. Very typical of women’s novels of the time. Particularly recommended for fans of Sense and Sensibility and Mansfield Park.

10. St Ronan’s Well by Walter Scott (1824) Summary: This novel follows Francis Tyrell and his attempts to marry his former love, Clara Mowbray, and fend off his rival, the engaging but sinister Lord Etherington. All of this is set under a backdrop of the gossip and scandal-mongering of a fictional Scottish spa town.  Why you should read it: This is a self-indulgent inclusion - I wrote my dissertation on it, Scott’s least known and least loved novel. It’s Scott’s only attempt to write a contemporary novel and it is obvious that he is influenced by Austen and trying in many ways to emulate her. It’s not entirely successful and the novel is an uneasy mix of sparkling dialogue and social satire with melodrama and romantic tragedy. The characters are really great, however, particularly Scott’s portrayal of Clara’s deep unhappiness, and the plot quite shocking- make sure you get hold of a first edition or at least read up on it, as Scott was later forced to remove his earlier references to pre-marital sex, which is really key for the plot. Particularly recommended for fans of Emma, Mansfield Park and Persuasion.

[violetvapours]

Fic meme

Cheers @someillplanetreigns for the tag 💜 Tagging: Not many of my mutuals are writers so just gunna throw a line to @hurricanerin and @therealstartraveller776 if you feel like it or whatever clap your hands

My Ao3 | My FFn

Fandoms I’ve made fanworks for: debuted on Ao3 publishing Marvel works but started out writing HP & LOTR with a bit of the Matrix and Sarah Connor Chronicles

Number of fics: 4 published on current accounts

Fics I spent more time on: Sanguine, the file says it’s 5 years old i’m fucking ashamed. Granted in that time it’s been written between 3 surgeries+6 ER admissions, surviving a car crash, being assaulted by a patient at work, moving house 3 times at the whims of bourgeois landlords, planning a fabulous Red Wedding, and starting an original fantasy series.

Fics I spent less time on: Blood of a God (published over 10 months)

Longest fic: Sanguine (32k unfinished)

Shortest story: Blood of a God (10k words it’s tiny)

Most hits: Ao3 Sanguine, FFn Spellbreaker

Most kudos: Sanguine, ow lol it’s better if I don’t look. I’m NICHE

Most bookmarks: Sanguuuine I need to publish more stuff

Fic you want to rewrite or expand: This is crazy timing bc I JUST YESTERDAY woke up with a gasp realising ‘I need to rewrite Blood of a God. I know what to do now.’  It was my first completed fic (FFn), an Avengers/Underworld/original vampire lore crossover wherein vampire!Sigyn works as an interrogator for SHIELD reading blood memories and switches sides after interrogating Loki on the helicarrier. It was moderately popular at the time but I since felt the execution didn't live up to the premise. Now that there seems to be a renewed interest in the fandom for stories set in phase 1&2, I think the time might be right to publish a revamp on Ao3 for a more mature audience (me), filling out plot gaps, updating with phase 2 info not known when Avengers was released, and the rating cranked up to 11.

Total words combined: 78,908 and counting

Fav fic you wrote: Aw, Sanguine is my magnum opus that satisfies my witchy antivillain sensibilities the most deeply. I don’t see myself topping it except with my original work, which is TORRID and LITERARY with NO fun headhopping 😢

Share a bit of your WIP or idea if you have anything planned: Infinite Fidelity summary (Sanguine Endgame Redux, slowburn cabin fever) Loki flees far into spacetime with the Tesseract in search of a place to land safe from Thanos, and he’s never going back. When he meets his Queen in another life, the latent bloodbond she reawakens in his veins is the only force strong enough to call him home to the timeline he abandoned, to find his Sigyn. The last place he expects her is Asgard's dungeons.

Dances in the Dark summary (creepy fuckedup dubcon Murder of Theoric) Loki's illusions usually solved more problems than they started, and his tricks typically caused less trouble than he could twist out of. But when he recognises the demure night healer tending to him in the infirmary as the wicked nymphet he deflowered in disguise at a debauched drinking den the night before ... it’s not long before Loki is too deep in the lie. Beast’s Beauty summary (childhood friends to lovers, on the backburner) The All-Mother takes Lady Freyja's wayward daughter under her tutelage as a desperate favour when the wild, shapeshifting child is expelled from Vanaheim’s academy. Sigyn had always been a better creature than a person. Clumsy, restless, confused by courtly propriety - she escaped her girl form whenever possible to fly and leap and slink. But as they learned and grew together, it would be the silver tongue and soft hands of a patient Prince Loki that lures the beauty from the beast.

[mikkeneko]

A decade of writing

It's the last 12 hours of the year and of the decade, and although I mostly don't bother with the memes of the day, I thought I'd do a bit of past looking over my growth as a writer.

2019 retrospective

I finally finished One Elegant Solution, a monster of a fic I'd started in 2016 and labored on for three years. At 80 chapters, 370k words, and 3 years, it was the largest single piece of fanfic (or anything) that I've ever written, although the combined pieces of Wizards and Heralds were not far behind at 314k total. It was my magnum opus in Dragon Age fandom and also my good-bye to that series, and I felt very relieved and accomplished to have finished it. Still can't believe anybody decided to tune into it, since at the time I started writing it it seemed like a recipe full of all the things nobody wants to see in a fic:

full of OCs and characters so minor they might as well be OCs

focused mostly on dwarves, which get very little interest in the fandom

almost no focus on romance - Hawke doesn't even show up until 300k in

very little focus on combat or adventure; the entire story is focused on politics and community

But it was the story I wanted to write, and people showed up for it. I think that taught me a valuable lesson: write what you care about, put your love into it, and people will show up. If you write only to a formula of what you think the audience wants to see, they will sense your lack of engagement and they won't engage either.

Apart from OES, everything else I wrote in 2019 was Critical Role. A total of... *counts* 22 fics, 2 of which are still ongoing WIPs, most of the rest of which were one-shots. The top four according to AO3 are:

Lost & Found

Molly's Moving Castle

Catleb & the Meowty Nein

Sojourn

Which I would also say probably represent my best work. Of the four, I think I'm most proud of Sojourn; like Rise From Ash before it, it hit the rare combination of being able to do what I wanted, the way I wanted, in a way that seemed to resonate with the audience. Like many writers I'm often dissatisfied with my work, but not this time -- I'm happy with what I accomplished with that fic and don't think I'd change anything (except maybe to rewrite chapter 3 in Yasha's POV, so that every character would get a POV chapter... anyway.)

In 2020 I hope to be able to finish up Molly's Moving Castle and possibly Fjord's YEEHAW! Ranch, and hopefully not start any new big fanfic WIPs.

In the last month or two of 2019 I also got bitten by a bug I've never really experienced before: I got an idea for an actual original work. I'm sort of excited to try that in 2020, since it will be all new territory for me! Tune in in 2020 for the adventures of Gigi the Deepcaller of Underearth, the last bastion of free life on the planet since the gods of evil overwhelmed the surface world. (I hope.)

2010s retrospective

There's so much stuff here that it would be overwhelming to dive into it, so I'll just summarize: 2010 was conveniently the year I started up my AO3 account, so all my stats are on there.

I started the decade in the Tsubasa fandom, from there went to MCU, to Dragon Age, and to Critical Role at the end of the decade. I remember the Tsubasa fandom as being small but supportive; MCU fandom as being huge and overwhelming; Dragon Age as being invigorating, but contentious; and Critical Role, well, too soon to say yet.

From a writer's perspective I would say that the audiences are palpably different. MCU fans are very actively engaged with the material and speculate a lot more; one of them guessed the major plot twist of my story as soon as the second comment of the first chapter. Tsubasa fans were much more content to wait for the story to unfold and not do a lot of guessing. DA and CR are both somewhere in between.

One thing I’ve definitely noticed is the gradual decline of shipping and smut in my fic over the decade. My earlier fics tended to focus on shipping almost exclusively, but starting around MCU and going onwards, there has been more and more emphasis placed on gen, adventure and intrigue and character building, with shipping taking a more and more distant role in the story. I don’t think I’ve written a sex scene since... *checks* RESET in 2017, and before that nothing since 2015. Compared to my uhh colorful record in, say, the Fullmetal Alchemist fandom, this is a big  change.

Anyway, the totals for the entire decade: Fics written: 173 Word count: 2,285,949 words; the equivalent of 45 NaNos, or just under 4 War and Peaces. Comment threads: 5,293 (threads, so not counting my replies) Hits: 720,040

It's strange sometimes to think sometimes that I, a fanfic writer who's never had anything 'officially' published, have probably had my work seen by more people than the vast majority of authors who penned works in the first six thousand or so years of civilization. So much has been lost to time, and even of what was retained, much of it is only read by a few scholars and historians. The ones who have weathered the ages to be read widely today are anomalies, perhaps literally one-in-a-million.

I'm so glad to have lived in this time, in this place, where I can reach out to so many people and share something with you, even if it was no more than a passing touch in the dark.

Cheers!

[juliereineke]

Henry Fool and Other Random Thoughts

I recently rewatched Henry Fool, a Hal Hartley movie made in 1997.  I hadn’t watched it for about 10 years, but it held up the second time around. I read some other reviews that complained the movie was too long and lost momentum toward the end, and I agree that it was protracted and the first half of the film is definitely stronger than the last.  It’s still well worth watching, in my opinion, because it’s original and a million times better than most of the derivative crap that the mainstream movie industry spits out. 

Henry Fool has some nice dark humor in it.  First of all, the name is brilliant.  Henry Fool.  It’s a name that mocks its owner and immediately makes you wonder, “What kind of person would have a name like that?”  I know giving characters names that describe their personality traits is a far from new concept.  For instance, it was used in The Water Babies, a book I read to my son awhile ago.  There was a woman called Ms. Bedonebyasyoudid.  I know, that’s a mouthful.  But it’s the same thing, and that book was written in the mid 1800s.  I thought Hartley used the name trope to very good effect again when he named a xenophobic politician “Owen Fear.” He uses these names to describe characters without being too heavy handed with it.

The other main characters are the siblings Simon and Fay Grimm, 20 somethings living with their mother in New Jersey. Henry Fool emerges out of the blue, a man in his late 20s who seems like he might have come from another century with his shoulder length brown hair.  He’s a vagrant, unemployed person, but he’s always nattily dressed in a gray vest suit with a clean white shirt underneath. 

Henry decides to rent a room in Simon and Fay Grimms’ basement, and he just walks into their lives, literally, walking right down to the basement, opening the door, and lighting the furnace like he already lives there.  Simon reads Henry’s name,  written in old fashioned cursive, on the luggage label of his suitcase and Henry says, “Centuries ago it had an ‘e’ at the end.”  That’s my favorite line in the movie.  It’s brilliant dark humor.  There’s never a mention of the fact that Fool is not an enviable last name. Instead, Henry seems to take pride in it.

Henry Fool appeals to me because in some ways I feel like I’ve known him, like I’ve met him somewhere before.  Someone maudlin and mawkish, who takes himself too seriously.  Henry talks of his great work, his poetics, and carries mysterious composition books that he says contain his magnum opus.  Yet it’s Simon Grimm, the unassuming garbage man who works compacting trash, who ends up being the brilliant poet, while Henry’s book, when he finally allows others to read it, is “really quite bad” (in the words of Simon’s publisher). But Henry is likable because he’s so flawed and so relentlessly sincere, if misguided.  

This movie has a definite nostalgia factor for me. It was made in a time before cell phones, when computers weren’t in everyone’s houses and a lot of people didn’t even have the internet.  It’s strange, because it wasn’t that long ago.  I mean, I remember 1996.  I was 13/14 years old.  But how things have changed in the past 24 years! It was a different world.  People seem more present, more in the moment, not looking at a screen all the time. Ther are no ever-present cell phones everyone is ready to pull out at any moment to absent themselves from reality.  

I wonder, how many people now still write bad autobiographies in composition books?  I’d being willing to wager not as many do anymore.  Now everyone has a blog, or vlog, which don’t get me wrong, can be an effective form of self expression, but it’s less personal.

Life seems less hectic in the nineties world of Henry Fool, and more attention is given to the small moments, little things in the composition or the surroundings.  When Simon Grimm takes his work breaks, for instance, he just goes and sits on some concrete steps and has a beer.  Maybe he reads a book.  What would he be doing now?  Probably scrolling through his cell phone, checking Facebook or looking things up on Google.  The imageof a guy looking at his cell phone is somehow less picturesque than that of a man sitting there just drinking a beer.

And damn they smoked a lot in this movie.  I guess that’s one thing not to be nostalgic about.  Smoking has really gone out of style since the 90′s, partly because people can’t smoke inside most places anymore, and also because a lot of people have figured out that while smoking might look momentarily cool and glamorous at 21, there’s nothing glamorous about COPD, emphysema, or lung cancer, which, let’s face it, is what every consistent smoker is headed for. 

Parker Posy plays Fay Grimm, Simon’s sister, and she seamlessly becomes her character.  I like Parker Posy.  She also gives me the feeling, like Henry Fool, that I could have known her, or known someone like her.  She’s plays the bitchy, slutty older sister, a character not unlike the one she played in Dazed and Confused.

I do think Henry Fool lost direction towards the end.  The character of Simon Grimm could have been developed more.  He always remains the mysterious, taciturn poet, the sort of idiot savant.  I did watch at least one of the other films in the Henry Fool trilogy (or both?  I can’t remember).  As I recall, the movie Fay Grimm wasn’t nearly as good.  Hartley lost his momentum somehow.  

In all, I very much enjoyed rewatching Henry Fool, despite it’s flaws.  I think it has a lot of heart and flashes of brilliance.  I like the humor in it, and the way Hartley portrays the dismal everdayness of the characters’ lives.  I think it’s harder now to observe and create, with so many distractions and so many things to experience and take in:  videos on YouTube, hundreds of movies and shows to stream from around the world, Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Pokemon Go, Apps and games, news articles popping up each morning on my IPhone screen, e-books.  I could distract myself with these things day and night.  I hardly have time to create or look at stuff anyway because I have two small children to take care of, so just getting to be online writing down these asinine thoughts about Henry Fool is a luxury for me.

The character of Henry Fool inspires me to continue writing my own poetics, no matter how bad, just as he inpired Simon Grimm. Henry is a creative force, a muse, and maybe we should all be brazen and foolish enough to have a great “life’s work.”  There’s something charming about that.

[aconstantstateofbladerunner]

MHA Fanfiction WIPs (Update 5)

Hey gang I’m gonna tell y’all ‘bout all my My Hero Academia fanfiction ideas instead of actually working on any of them let’s GO!!!

The Butterfly Continuity

- Butterfly - The big one.  My magnum opus.  Izuku is stalked by a mysterious villain that starts to make him doubt his own sanity.  Each new piece of the puzzle only brings up more questions.  The main one: why does it only seem to go after him?

22/30 chapters as I make this post.  Scene by scene outline complete.  Currently being written and published.  We’re in the home stretch.  Beware major character death.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17165612/chapters/40360787

- Distant Thunder - Takes place right after the events of Butterfly but I’d hesitate to call it a sequel.  Exists mainly to tie up a loose side plot the main story won’t cover.  Can’t give many details because spoilers.

11 chapters.  Outline complete.  There will be angst.

- Exit Light - A prequel story with young Toshinori and Nana.  A villain traps their town in all-consuming darkness.  “Consuming” in this case is literal. 

(Not directly tied to the events of Butterfly beyond a verbal mention.  Basically, I have this scene planned where Toshinori tells the basics of the story and I thought it might be fun to write the whole thing separately.)

7-8 chapters.  Major events outlined.  Focuses on the developing familial dynamic between young Toshi, Nana, and Gran Torino.  Happy ending.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19233598/chapters/45733516

Bio Dad Might AU

- For Kurou - For their own safety, Toshinori must remove himself from the lives of his long-time partner and newborn son.  But they’re never far from his mind.  For years, not a day goes by where he doesn’t write a letter or set aside a gift for their eventual reunion.  It isn’t until he’s spent some time with his chosen successor, a young quirkless boy named Midoriya Izuku, that Toshinori’s consistent dedication to his family is interrupted.

23 chapters.  Major events and some scenes planned.  Canon divergence fic.  Streamlined to the important stuff because there are already an abundance of fics like this and I want to focus on my original stuff.  Toshinko.  Family angst with a happy ending.

- Told You So - Izuku hasn’t decided yet if he wants to go public with his heritage. On the one hand, he want to make a name for himself, not just as the son of All Might. On the other, he hates to lie and lying about One for All is hard enough. Most of the people who know the truth will support whatever decision he makes. Sir Nighteye isn’t one of them.

10+ chapters. Basic outline complete. Internship arc.

- Son Rise - Rumors have been circling of a secret All Might lovechild for a while now.  A new rumor says that All Might will reveal the child as his successor at the next International Heroes’ Summit in Hawaii.  The rest of the hero community has mixed feelings. 

Or, “Izuku goes to another country with his dad and has a bad time.”

11 chapters.  Major events outlined. Shameless excuse for me to gush about how cool Hawaii was while also hurting my boy.  Some Toshinko on the side.  Family angst with a happy ending.

Borrower AU

- Missing the Trees for the Forest - Toshinori was convinced his cottage was haunted from the day he moved in. He could easily blame the missing objects and little bites in his food on pests, but that wouldn’t explain the faint sound of crying some nights.

10+ chapters, partial outline. Gonna jump between angst and fluffy like a seesaw. Idea originally by @abyssal-glory who graciously gave me permission to use it.

Miscellaneous

- The Necromancer - Zombie apocalypse AU.  An unseen villain sets hoards of undead upon Japan.  As a designated disaster-relief shelter and a small fortress in its own right, UA becomes host to both the heroes working to stop the onslaught, and several hundred terrified civilians, including several students’ families.  Supplies and space shrink with each passing day, and it seems like the end to the nightmare is nowhere in sight.  Someone is bound to take matters into their own hands.

10+ chapters.  Some events planned.  Family drama and angst.  Not sure if there will be major character death yet.

- All But One - Toshinori is given the opportunity to undo over two decades of suffering by going back in time and ending All For One.  And that’s just the beginning.  He goes on to use his knowledge of the future to correct errors of the past, and makes his new reality infinitely better than the one he came from.  Better in every way but one.

Used to be a oneshot, not multi-chapter.  Outline complete and writing has started.  Open to making it an au but not sure yet.  Based on a bittersweet post by @skygemspeaks

6/? chapters up

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18796387/chapters/44597800

- Things that are His - Todoroki wasn’t allowed to have many personal belongings as a child. As a result, he tends to hoard what little he has, especially if it’s from a friend.

Oneshot about Todoroki being loved by his friends and loving them back. Kinda sad but not really.

- Spiked - There’s no such thing as a free meal.

Gore headcanon request that got out of hand into a oneshot.  Please read the tags.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20062174

- Angel’s Egg - Orphaned babies showing up on the stoop of hero agencies is unfortunately not all that rare.  And egg the size of a baby is entirely unheard of. Is the child within just the result of an unusual quirk, or something of far greater, supernatural origins?

Kinda out there au where Izuku hatches from an egg and is raised by All Might.  That question is posed to me, because I’m not yet sure if I want to go down the mundane or supernatural path; I have potential endings for both.

- Hanakotoba (working title) - Toshinori always wanted a family, but he wanted to be a hero even more.  He figured the family thing would happen naturally, but as the years go by and it doesn’t, he finds himself sinking further and further into longing.  And then he finds the end of his sorrows in his own garden.

Hybrid Thumbelina/Princess Kaguya au prompted by @agent-jaselin.  This one is for sure supernatural.

- Two Sons in the Sunset - One of the greatest crimes ever committed by Japan’s villain underground is hidden in plain sight.  Same goes for the crimes of one of its greatest heroes.  The results of both find they have a lot in common.

AU where Izuku is a test tube baby created by villains to defeat All Might, but ended up being adopted by him.  He and Todoroki later bond over similar baggage with their origins.  Whether or not it remains a bromance of full-on tododeku depends on if I can get over my own baggage of writing romance.

- The one where everyone finds out - Y’all been hounding me about making a fic where everybody finds out about Izuku’s past so this is here to tell you I’m working on it. Might be a fic of its own, might sprinkle an arc into one of the other aus.

- The Arena - Class 1-A gets transported to a pocket detention by some villains and have to fight whatever else is there.

No chapter estimate.  Mostly just have the concept and some scenes planned.

I’ll update this post as stuff comes out.  Please let me know what you think!

[sachinighte]

Tagged by the wonderful @uintuva, here you go darling <3

AO3 name: Memories_of_the_Shadows

Fandoms: Naruto, One Piece, Sailor Moon, Dragon Age, Harry Potter, MCU, Hannibal, NCIS, Criminal Minds, Stargate, Bleach, YYH, Inuyasha, Ken Akamatsu universe, FFXV, Hellsing, Underworld, BTVS, RWBY, Teen Wolf, YOI!, Voltron, BNHA, Pokemon (these are in no particular order and I tend to vacillate between them at random times. More will almost certainly pop up and I’m positive I forgot a few)

Number of fics: 80 (published)

1. Fic I spent the most time on: And Now I See The Sunrise: my Isaribi/Hinata sentinel/guide fic which I adore

2. Fic I spent the least time on: oh, god, I’ve been writing for years and I used to specialize in drabbles. I have no idea but it was probably one of my shorter ones

3. Longest fic: Philomel’s Lullaby: which is abandoned and terrible but still counts I guess

4. Shortest fic: Mikata: because I’m not going to count my terrible teenage poetry

5. Most hits: The Apple Now Is Sweet: you heathens. (Link is NSFW, click at your risk)

6. Most kudos: Don’t Ask Why It Works, It Just Does: which, fair, I’m also pretty proud of that one

7. Most comment threads: Again, it’s Don’t Ask Why It Works, It Just Does

8. Favourite fic I wrote: I have to choose!? Agggh, idk, probably Alive and Burning Brighter (my rule 63!Tony Stark), or And Till They’ve Seen The Light (my rift stabbing da crackfic), or And Now I’ve Seen The Sunrise (since I gave it to myself for my wedding, I sure hope I love it XD)

9. Fic you want to rewrite/expand on: Ack, okay, I know I only ever post finished work, and it is finished so I won’t do this, but probably Just A Dream? I just love it but I feel like I could do better. And I did start a sequel for it but I couldn’t get through it.

10. Share a bit of a WIP or a story idea you’re planning on: Hah, you asked for it, here’s a bit from my massive Cullanders magnum opus that keeps growing and growing because these two are just made for angst (also, yes, I write in html, it makes publishing on ao3 easier for me):

“I’m sorry. It’s been difficult to leave the Gallows with all the upheaval. The Knight-Commander has become… more demanding of my time as well.” Cullen sighs heavily, then grimaces, his hand moving towards his chest before aborting the movement. Anders is uncomfortably aware of the many different ways people try to hide pain and equally aware of how difficult that can be. He doesn’t want to sympathize with a Templar, but Cullen would likely be more gracious about any healing than Fenris ever is. It might be okay. If Cullen really is hurt. “I fear… it’s not… in any case, things will have to come to a head soon enough. Neither the Grand Enchanter nor Meredith are willing to back down and, well, there is no one in the Gallows who is unaware of how precarious the situation is.”

Oh, Anders knows. For every mage he helps to escape there are three more that he cannot get to because the Templars come for them too soon, without warning. No one is safe. (And Anders sits here with one of the perpetrators practically <i>itching</i> to heal him. Void take him, he hates himself some days.) “So Hawke says as well,” he says instead, guardedly.

Cullen shoots him a look that is far too wry and knowing for Anders’ comfort but he doesn’t comment beyond a small grin, a cocked eyebrow. So Cullen has guessed who it is that is sneaking mages out through the basement tunnels. Maybe he isn’t as dumb as he looks. <I>And</I> he doesn’t seem inclined to say anything about it.

Maybe, just maybe, there is at least one Templar who Anders can trust farther than he can throw them without magic or Justice.

“You’re stiff,” he offers, instead of dwelling on such a revelation, something so counter to everything he has known since he was a child. “Let me see.” Cullen sighs, shaking his head.

“People would notice if I was healed, thank you though. It’s just… a training accident,” he says as though he doesn’t believe that it <i>was</I> an accident, although Anders will grant that it did probably happen during training. And with Cullen himself letting Anders off the hook for healing, that should be the end of it. He should let this go and revel in the fact that Cullen is uncomfortable and will stay that way for as long as the stubborn arse will take to heal.

“Just tell them you bribed one of the mages,” he says instead. It’s a plausible enough story--every Circle he’s ever heard of has those who do it, although Anders is fairly sure Cullen isn’t one of the ones who would--and one that most Templars will accept even if it’s scornfully. (Anders remembers a time when he was the one getting bribed, though he was threatened more often than not rather than bribed. Anders had come to the conclusion very early on in his studies that he wouldn’t willingly heal Templars unless he had a very good reason and a laxer curfew, more candles or blankets, or someone ignoring a dalliance simply aren’t good enough. He remembers Flora was vastly more popular with the Templars as a result. Anders couldn’t have cared less.)

Cullen groans a bit, that aborted move to hug himself appearing once more, and sighes. “Fine. You’re right. Just because I can’t afford the downtime right now, not with the entire city like an overfilled flour mill with some young idiot striking a flint in the middle of it.”

Anders stifles a laugh. Cullen normally gives Fenris a run for his silent and broody money, or is shyer and more bashful--though similarly, and <I>constantly</I>, offended--than Velanna whenever he or one of the Rose’s workers brings up something particularly crude. But every once in a while he shows his Ferelden farmboy side and Anders can almost forget that Cullen is everything he hates.

The wound is red with the start of an infection and poorly wrapped. Luckily, it was only a glancing blow, shallow enough that once Anders cleans it out and heals what he can it won’t even scar. Justice howls in anger at the edge of Anders’ perception and Anders mentally shoves him away.

“They should teach you how to field dress injuries in training, not magic you can’t even use,” he says lowly, maybe to distract from how warm Cullen’s skin feels under his fingers, from the wiry dusting of golden curls on his chest. Anders is surprised every time by how <I>human</I> Templars are. He probably shouldn’t be. Cullen sighes and pulls away.

“I don’t disagree that field dressing would be useful,” he says. Anders wants to get angry, wants to <i>want to</I> fight, but really, he’s just tired. Tired of political statements, of this arrangement they have, of still having to fear for his life and sanity. Anders didn’t ask to be born with magic. Nobody but the worst blood mages do.

(He’s seen a few of them, people who make deals with demons for magic because what they really want is <i>power</I> and they all think they will get away with it. Unscrupulous and bold, every single one of them think that they’ll be able to stop once they get the one thing they want, but there’s always another thing on the horizon that only blood magic and more deals can help with. All of them were caught eventually, and grouped with mages who have never done a single harm in their entire lives. Legions of power-hungry blood mages who thought nothing of selling another person into death or worse for the sake of fleeting dreams of power. And for what? A moment in time that they could try to satiate their greed. Is it any wonder that it’s mostly nobles who end up taking that path to power?)

“It’s done,” he says, instead of replying, instead of the rant that Justice is beating into his temples. Anders turns away and starts to gather up his things when Cullen blushes and touches his side.

“Thank you, Anders,” Cullen says softly, and it sounds so sincere that Anders has to leave without saying anything else at all. He needs to remember that Cullen is a Templar.

Not someone sweet and sincere, who blushes easily and listens well. Just a Templar. He’ll show his true colors soon enough. Five years is nothing against a lifetime of proof.

Ah, sh*t, I tag whoever would like to do this?

[thequietmanno1]

Thelreads, MHA 183, Replies Part 1

1)“Oh dear lord in heaven its the kids from 1-B waiting to get their asses sued. Oh lord, that reads like a cross-over fanfiction but I be damned if I wouldn’t be sitting on the front rows.”-Honestly I’m somewhat impressed and pleased that harry potter ended up being referenced in a mainstream Japanese manga- Romeo and Juliet is a Shakespeare work and thus pretty much ingrained into culture so deeply that it’s one of the first things you think of when you hear ‘shakespeare’, Star wars as a film franchise was pretty widespread and has had time to integrate into popular culture over the last 50 years, but harry potter’s first book was published only about 22 years ago and it’s still managed to become so popular that Horikoshi can stick a western shout-out in the midst of about 3 cross-referencing English-speaking shout-outs without fear of anybody not know what he’s going on about- it’s practically the opposite of most manga I’ve read when usually include Japanese or similar folktales or stories that they reference

2)“Oh no, that guy is the guy we all know… The “The book was better, they jammed everything on a single movie when they could’ve done 8 of them” guy… I know that guy… Me and my sister, we are that guy…”-I have to wonder if that guy was the Japanese equivalent of a weaboo- somebody who know and understood all the western references and different story points 1B crammed into their play because he’s read the original stories and got the translated hardback copies stored in his dorm room, and he’s aghast at how they butchered the originals and Frankensteined them back together into a mishmash of a story that somehow includes most of the original plot points and beats.

Sure, he’s impressed at the scale and ambition of it, but still… way too much content for a single play to cover without becoming ridiculous- I’m totally of the mind that Monoma thought he was creating a grand epic tale when he penned the script, only for the reality of the play to be that it was entertaining because of how nuts it was- which makes me wonder- if Monoma was indeed the script maker, does that means he’s a western aficionado as well? Or if not him, who else in class 1B would be such a nerdy fan of such classics?

3) “Ah, kinda sad that those kids couldn’t see the magnum opus that was… I don’t even know how to describe what class 1-B did.”- “a flustercuck of stories, themes and plots ripped, still-bleeding from the hearts of their donors and stitched back together into a creation that, contrary to its origins, does actually contain a coherent plot, apparently by going so far through the veil of madness that it circles back around and arrives at sense again.”

4) “Oh lord, that’s hysterical. He’s really angry at Midoriya for acting like that, and he didn’t even heard about the part where he fought a dangerous criminal on school grounds.”-Well, a hero’s supposed to be reliable and raise everybody’s spirits, so if Midoira was shirking the concert show because of his own personal issues when all his other classmates had put their hopes and dreams and hard work in, that wouldn’t be very becoming behaviour for a future no1 hero.

 Like All Might said back at Midoira’s training, hero work should be about community service first and foremost, with fighting rouge villains being an unfortunate side-effect they need to deal with on a daily basis, but still- a number one hero like Midoira’s aiming for needs to be somebody who can be relied upon to be there for you no matter what- thinking about it this entire situation is analogues to that opening scene in the Incredibles with Mr Incredible having to prioritise getting a cat out of a tree in favour of a car chase happening nearby- and unlike him and all Might, Midoria’s not yet managed to be strong or skilled enough to multi-task the different demands of being an on-the job hero for everybody in need in an immediate area- heck, vigilantes kinda had a chapter that lampooned this drawback with All Might having to MacGyver solutions to multiple incidents at the same time by using said incidents to solve each other, ala using the tree to stop the getaway car.

5) “Unfortunately, he has a point. It was too dangerous, he could’ve died. We know that he only did that for Eri, but she wouldn’t like to know that he put his life on danger for her, again.”-In a way, Midoria’s lucky that the criminal he fought was somebody like gentle, who may have been willing to beat him unconscious as a last resort, but generally used trickery, reflecting Midoria’s own attacks back at him via skilful usage of his quirk, one-the-fly traps like the falling beam to pin him down, or skilful chops to the back of his neck to render him unconscious in a single merciful move. Gentle may have been willing to go all-out once Midoria pushed him that far, but that was the last few minutes of the fight- before then he tried to minimise the damage he had to inflict upon Midoira when he could neither shake him off or pin him down long enough to escape, and generally didn’t try to hurt Midoria at all if he could have avoided it.

 If the villain had been somebody like Stain or Muscular, then Midoria would have been ‘really’ dumb to try and fight them alone with the option of backup available, even if he was trying to help heal Eri’s heart through the festival, but because he was fighting somebody who only took the kiddie gloves off as a last resort, especially once he’d failed to knock him out even with the power-up, Midoria wasn’t damaged enough  to be forced to keep out of the concept for his own well-being- I can see Recovery girl  just despairing over having to heal all his cuts and broken bones before he tries putting on a dance show, demanding he cover the bill for several bottles worth of gin  as payment

6) “That was… That was actually quite nice. It’s some progress to him. He was acknowledged as someone that can fight to protect the peace, but he shouldn’t be doing that alone yet.”-for all of Midoria’s lack of a visible hero profile in the public eye- beyond being known as a crazy lunatic who’ll fight you even as his body self-destructs- he has a talent for earning the respect and trust of the professional heroes who put their lives on the line as part of the job, understanding that he has the skills and judgement to be a truly great hero once he’s old enough to graduate, but until then, as professional heroes, it’s a little insulting that Deku continually tires to solve all the issues he comes across by himself, even if he does have altruistic reasons, because that’s ‘their’ job, and half the reason why they’re even on UA grounds in the first place, the other being to beat the lessons of hero work into their students heads, which has a bad habit of working too well with Midoria, what with his complex driving him to provide aid to others in need regardless of the cost to himself… actually, now I think about it, many of the lessons Midoira’s been learning so far revolve around him needing to be ‘less’ all sacrificing and noble, and to take better care of himself  even if it costs others in the process- Midoria’s still only a human being, and an under-age kid at that.

7) “Its nice that All Might appreciate the help on educating Midoriya. He sometimes doesn’t have all the right words to convey his teachings, and he at least is learning to rely on other teachers that are better at communicating than him.

And yes I did just say that hound dog is better at communicating than All Might.”-Said just seconds before Hound-dog devolves into animalistic gibberish again- but still, yeah, All Might’s main problems going forward revolve entirely about how to be a better ‘teacher’ than hero, and he’s not as well-versed in telling others how to do things, rather than showing them how to do it- an option denied to him thanks to his currently withered body. I liked this arc because the training session with Midoria showed how All Might’s adapting and taking his own strides in becoming a better mentor to Midoria- a fact aided by Midoria being the kind of student who rapidly understands lessons once he has his foot in the metaphorical door. All Might adapting to Midoria’s power levels and the tech support he’s getting from Mei shows how he’s aware of time passing him by as his students get stronger and more independent of him, and how he needs to keep up with them for as long as they need his guidance- and as long as it takes for Midoria to turn himself into the next no1 hero.

8) “MIDORIYA IS TRYING SO HARD TO KEEP HIMSELF TOGETHER, I CAN’T. IT WAS JUST WHAT HE FOUGHT FOR, TO SEE HER HAVING A BIT OF HAPPINESS AFTER SO MANY YEARS OF SUFFERING.

OH GOD I CAN’T, IT’S SO PURE AND ADORABLE”- “My nose has been broken and reset, I’ve got a ringing in my ears from the smacking gentle gave and Jiro’s volume-blasting sounds, I’ve possibly got a few bruises all over my abdomen and I think I strained my left arm muscles lifting up at girder…Worth it!”

9) “BAKUGO, STOP THAT SMUG SHIT-EATING GRIN RIGHT THIS MOMENT YOUNG MAN, YOU’RE NOT ALLOWED THAT SORT OF EXPRESSION. YOU KNOW THAT YOU CAN ONLY GLARE AND MAKE A MURDER FACE.

And funnily enough, kirishima is also celebrating their victory, but not on a “we’re better than them” kind of way, but on a “we touched their hearts and they aren’t as hostile as they once were to us” way.”-Different goals, same actions taken to achieve those goals= similar, but characteristically distinct reactions towards their success- though frankly, shit-eating grin seems to be the closest Bakugou can get to showing a tender smile between his blood-lust faces and battle-ready smirking

10) “Still, even if those people couldn’t be there to see the show, the people that did will be sure to transmit the feelings, and soon, maybe the school will actually come together eventually.”-Makes me wonder how many people are actually in the school- we know there’s about 3 different courses between support, business and the hero course, but that hall was packed pretty full, so there can’t have been many students who weren’t able to get a glimpse of it in some form or another, but from iida’s dialogue and the number of stalls around, it seems like there was still about half the student body that didn’t get to see how rocking 1A is. @thelreads

[marissabonifay]

 The Greeting

Hello, everyone, my name is Jon Dottingly. Welcome to one of the most memorable podcasts that you will ever hear. During this episode, and the many others that will follow, it will be my honor to tell you a story the likes of which you have never experienced.

This story has all that we have come to expect in a great tale: There are heroes and heroines whose courageous deeds will leave you breathless. There are villains most foul. There is love, and there is lust. There is hate. There is jealousy. And all of it takes place in exotic locations that will leave the reader filled with awe and wonder.

But, what makes this story truly unique is the magical way in which it has come to its teller. I, Jon Dottingly, am the writer of this tale, and I can honestly say that it has changed me, and all for the better. And, it’s my sincere wish that its magic will change your life as well.

First of all, let me say that as an experienced author of novels, I have created many characters for many types of stories. Some of these stories have been memorable, some not so much. While composing these tales, I have concocted plot twists to perplex the mind, and I’ve dreamt up interesting places for all of the drama to occur. In so doing, I can say that I’ve met with a modest amount of success through the years.

    And, I’ve always tried to make my next story better than the last. All my life, I have been striving to unearth that one prized work - some magnum opus that would put the name of Jon Dottingly in lights and bring him just financial rewards for having lived a life dedicated to artistic as well as literary excellence.

Naturally, such a profound story would need to showcase a most memorable character, one who will keep readers turning the pages of a work, one after another, after another, after another. I have longed to create such a character since the day I first put pen to paper.

In my most recent book, I thought I had managed to do that very thing in Marissa Bonifay, a young witch who hails from a fictional realm known as the Kingdom of Malakanth. This land is located on a planet far from Earth, somewhere on the other side of the cosmos.

In Malakanth, magic reigns. In addition to witches, there are wizards, and prophets, and priestesses, and demons within its domain. There is religious intrigue as well as class and social struggles that have endured for millennia. And, right at the center of it all, stands my fictional character – Marissa Bonifay.

But, as it turns out, Marissa Bonifay isn’t fictional at all. Nor are the wizards and prophets who inhabit her homeland. Nor are the events of her story.

As I had worked to pen what I had thought to be a piece of fiction gloriously concocted on my part, what I was, in fact, doing was documenting the early years of a real life woman who had come of age on a planet in some distant corner of the universe. In short, Marissa the witch had bestowed this story upon my consciousness by means of her magic and sorcery.

Now, I know what you’re thinking. “Jon, you are stark raving mad if you think some witch from across the cosmos is using you as a medium for some mysterious literary purpose.”

And, given the audacity of my claim, I would gladly accept this argument if I had been led to believe that Marissa was still in Malakanth - this land of witches, and wizards, and demons. But she’s not in Malakanth. She’s here, on Earth, among us, even now as I speak these words and as you are listening to them. I know this to be true because I have met her. Allow me to explain.

I had just finished what I had assumed to be the first installment of this saga, and I needed a title for it as well as one for the series itself. So, I did what I always do whenever I need to get away and spend some time deep in thought: I went to Starbucks. Maybe that sounds a bit cliché, but coffee shops are where I do my absolute best thinking.

So, there I was, sitting at one of their little tables with a pencil in hand and a notepad in front of me. And, thankfully, over the course of only a single chocolate chai, I had my title. I would call the first installment of my masterpiece “Slices of Midnight”. As for the overall series, I would go with “The Black Craft Saga”. Catchy, eh?

Pleased with myself, I reached down to retrieve my backpack from the floor in preparation of leaving, when, to my utter amazement, I looked up to behold the heroine of my story sitting across the table from me. It was Marissa Bonifay, in the flesh.

I recognized her immediately from my mind’s eye, even though she was dressed as any typical American would be on a typical American morning, wearing jeans, a t-shirt, as well as a pair of sunglasses that were perched atop her head. She even had a piping hot Starbucks latte in hand.

I’ll never forget that moment.

I was speechless, and I must have appeared as dumbfounded as I felt, because Marissa’s lips curled up in the same wry grin that I had envisioned so many times in my mind, and she said, “So, Jon, I hear you have a story to tell.”

I nearly fell out of my chair. Then, I went from being a speechless idiot to being a babbling fool, trying to say a thousand words at once. My mind was filled with marvel. So many questions were running through my mind. Finally, I settled on just one.

“Is your name Marissa Bonifay?” I asked.

“It is,” she replied. “And your name is Jon Dottingly. It’s good to finally meet you, Jon.”

Then, she proceeded to allay my fears. First and foremost, she assured me that I was not going insane. Second, she assured me that she was not going to do me any harm. After all, I knew she was a burgeoning witch from what I had written about her. But, Marissa told me that she was there for my benefit. In fact, she said that she had come to Earth for the benefit of all mankind.

Upon hearing these intentions, I noticed the first discrepancy in the woman before me and the young Marissa Bonifay with whom I became acquainted from the story. And it had to do with her personality rather than her adult appearance. This Marissa possessed benevolence that her teenage counterpart had not. She was wise and kind, whereas the Marissa from the story was bold and brash, while at the same time being utterly brilliant, flaunting her intelligence at every turn.

Amazingly, the Marissa before me there inside Starbucks      could sense my contemplations regarding these disparities, even as I was thinking on them. She was quick to own every one of her youthful misdeeds, and she was quick to downplay every act that one might consider to be brave or honorable, just as any truly humble person would.        

Over the course of an hour, she recounted the entire story that I had written about her. In this retelling, there were no discrepancies whatsoever. Everything was exactly as I had envisioned it. For this, Marissa did take full credit. She said she had bestowed this story upon me and that I was to share it with the world, and as soon as possible. Honestly, it didn’t seem like I was going to have any say in the matter.

She expressed to me the importance of this story, and how all my efforts would not be some ploy for her to gain glory or fame.

Prophecy, as it turns out, is at work here on Earth, and this prophecy has its roots based in the saga that I have been working on. Marissa has devoted her life to protecting this prophecy, so that it can unfurl for the benefit of all of creation. I will have a part to play in how this occurs, as will you, the listeners of this podcast, as I hope you will come to realize.

As you might expect, I walked away from Starbucks that day filled with wonder. I was in a daze from it all. In the span of an hour or so my world changed forever, for Marissa Bonifay had stepped into my life.

During our meeting, she told me precisely what I was to do with the first portion of this story that I had written. I wouldn’t be talking to my literary agent about it, as I had planned. Nor would I be contacting any publishers. I would be distributing the story as a series of e-books through channels that anyone with an internet connection can access.  

In addition, I was told to create a website to promote the saga, as well as a podcast. The episode you are listening to at this moment has its origins in that Starbucks on that fateful morning.

So, after all that I have told you, my prized story is no longer my story. To be honest, this thought didn’t dawn on me until the next day. But I have certainly thought about it many times since. The Kingdom of Malakanth and its magic no longer symbolize the pinnacle of my creativity. And Marissa Bonifay is no longer my prized character. I have become a conduit of sorts, a means by which this woman will convey her story to the people of Earth by one of our planet’s own.

Am I disappointed by this? Not at all. This story is far bigger than me. And, from what I’m learning, it’s far bigger than even Marissa Bonifay. If all the work I have done in my life to become the best writer I can possibly be has prepared me to document these events and nothing else, then so be it. I can think of no greater honor than to wield the pen for this …story, …this cause, …this prophecy.

Now, I hope you are wondering how you can obtain a copy of this story that I’ve been telling you about. As I mentioned earlier, the first installment of this saga is entitled “Slices of Midnight”, and you can find it at any of your favorite ebook outlets. The cost is 1.99 in U.S. dollars. I had decided to offer it for free, but Marissa would not allow it. Preparing this saga will take a great deal of time, she told me, and I should receive compensation for my efforts. I was in no position to argue, so $1.99 it is.

Alright, with that having been said, we have come to the end of this inaugural episode of Wisdom Rising, the official podcast of Marissa Bonifay and the Black Craft Saga. Thank you for listening, and I hope you join me next time, when I plan to go into much greater detail about Marissa Bonifay, her life, and her mission on our planet. Just how long has this witch been living on Earth? The answer will astound you, so please visit again soon to find out.

Speaking for Marissa Bonifay, this is Jon Dottingly. Until next time …be wise.