#still obsessed with the military branches

[alaskashigh]

do you ever just think of the military branches having their own “statehouse” but for the military branches and them having old videos from when they were wayyy younger of them just being total idiots? like a younger Navy acting like he’s a fish in the pool while Army is laughing at him and telling him to quit, Marine doing funny faces in the background, and Coast Guard recording, all on an old shitty video camera? No? Just me? Okay.

[chamomiletealeaf]

Sweet as Pie

Chapter 1

When Simon retires from the military, he buys a little cabin in Georgia to live the quiet life he's always wanted. It's rural, hidden, and exactly what he was looking for. However, it's not as rural as he thought it to be, when one day he finds out he has a cute lil next door neighbor who is sweet as pie.

pairing: fem!afab!southern! reader x mommykink! simon riley

a/n: Thank you to @thatonepupkai for inspiring me with this because I am now obsessed with mommy kink Simon and Southern reader.

warnings: mentions of trauma

Simon placed the last box of his belongings (which there weren't very many of) down in his new home.

He had just retired from the military, deciding to maybe try and experience some joy in his life.

Simon had never really experienced true joy. Not since his family. When he joined the Task Force he thought he could help save lives so that no one would have to live the way he did. He had nothing to live for, so why not try to save the lives of those who did have something?

But killing was hard. Something he didn't want to do. Was it really worth the risk? After Johnny nearly died by a shot to the head by Makarov, Simon felt an emotion that he hasn't felt since his family was alive.

For the first time in years, Simon Riley realized he had something to live for.

But he wasn't living, only surviving, which is why he decided to start a new chapter in his life and try and bring out that feeling he had gone so long without that he only got a taste of after Johnny was shot.

Which is where his rural cabin in Georgia comes in.

It was a beautiful wooden cabin; surrounded by nature and hidden by trees. It was alone, just the way he was. It was only one story and on a beautiful black lake that sparkled with the reflections of the sunny sky and warped images of the branches of the trees lingering over it. Maybe he would buy himself a kayak one day and go out on the lake. He was still learning how to take care of himself.

He didn't see any houses for a while. The closest house he saw being quite far down the lake, but close enough that he wasn't too secluded.

Simon wanted to start slow, inch his way back into civilization, and this cabin was the perfect start.

He placed the last box of his belongings down on the wooden floor in the living room. He sighed and placed his hands on his hips, then looked around as if he was trying to find something to do.

It felt awkward not having to watch his back 24/7.

He sat down on the little couch that came with the house, and opened up the box, deciding to occupy himself with putting away his things.

The first thing he took out the box was his only coffee mug that had the Task Force logo on it that Price had given to him so he wouldn't have to steal his mug to make his tea.

Tea, that sounded good.

Simon took the mug into the kitchen and put a kettle onto the stove.

As he waited for the water to heat up, he leaned back against the counter, crossed his arms over his chest, and looked outside his window in the kitchen, admiring the view of the lake.

Then something caught his eye.

From the window in the kitchen, Simon could see to the right of the cabin, which was most of the lake, and a lot of the wooded area beside it. He could see more from that window than the window in the living room, which showed the left part of his house, and that distant house that looked to be his only neighbor.

But in the distance, to the right, not too far from his cabin and definitely much closer than the other house, he saw a cute little pastel yellow house, also wooden, with a big white door.

"What the f-" Simon whispered under his breath, squinting his eyes to see if that was really another house he was seeing or maybe just a storage shed.

That's when he saw you.

Simon could see the door of your house that appeared to be the kitchen door. It was a single door with a little stoop to allow people to walk up and down it.

He watched as you opened the door, bringing a basket along with you, and walked over to the peach trees you had in your backyard.

You were beautiful. So much so that Simon unsquinted his eyes and his anger towards the realtor who sold him the house who failed to inform him of a closer-by neighbor faded.

He watched as you picked the peaches off the trees and pulled a white cardigan around your figure that slipped open every time you reached up to the branches of the tree.

Then, when the basket was full, he watched you disappear back into the coziness of your little yellow house, that was almost as cute as you were.

Simon stared at your kitchen door for a bit, awestruck by the woman he just saw.

Then the screeching whistle of the kettle is what snapped him out of his trance.

He rushed to turn the stove off and ran a hand through his messy blonde hair. Then with a sigh, he leaned against the counter on his palms, repressing a small grin creeping onto his face and thought:

Maybe having a neighbor wouldn't be so bad.

[tojisun]

this is purely self-indulgent (in a twisted way*) but i cant stop thinking about a military man falling ‘in love’ (born from obsession and dependency) with a nun :/

જ how simon never goes to church because he doesn’t believe in all that but johnny’s been going through tough times and simon did promise their captain that he’d be there for johnny, and that included going to church with him.

it’s the local chapel, one that acts as an extension of the abbey in the city, and johnny mentioned that wednesday night services aren’t packed which is why he likes going at this time. simon saw it for what it was—an olive branch for having to put up with johnny.

simon huffed and said, “don’t worry about it.” because johnny really shouldn’t. it’s not like he’s forcing simon anyways. but johnny was still apologetic, quiet, and simon tried to move past it.

so there they were, sinking into the shadows and away from the half-filled pews. the mass hasn’t started yet but the organ is already playing, readying for the first hymn, and that’s when simon saw you.

he didn’t even know nuns functioned in chapels too, so it’s probably there where his fascination first started. he watched as you fluttered around with a few other nuns, saying hi’s to churchgoers, smiling and holding their hands like you’re all longtime friends.

simon would look back to this day and think that maybe that was what drew him to you—the gentleness in which you talked to people. the starved awe in which they looked at you.

simon wondered if their admiration was a form of their desire.

જ how simon keeps going after that, sometimes with johnny, but oftentimes alone. he doesn’t see you all the time, but you’re there on more days than not and simon’s been the talk of the chapel, he knows, so he also knows that he isn’t imagining the short looks you’ve been sending his way, your eyes alight with curiosity and hesitance because simon’s simon. he doesn’t need a uniform to know that he looks dangerous. that he looks like the very man you’re told not to talk to.

but you still did. and simon doesn’t know why your attention feels like a, well, sweet reward.

જ how simon finds a companion in you. you look at him with such gentle eyes, he feels like hiding. he feels like lying. but then you ask him about his life and simon can’t stop himself from spilling his past, the blotchy ink of his life staining the unblemished canvas that you are.

simon’s voice is hoarse by the end of it, his head downturned in his shame. he doesn’t know what it is you must be thinking, he doesn’t know if he even would want to, but then he hears you sniffling and he whips his head up to look at you, his eyes wide in surprise because why are you crying?

why are you crying for him?

“oh simon,” he hears you say, your voice wobbly from your tears. “come, let us pray.”

simon listens to the prayer, listens to your voice, and thinks that maybe he can start to believe.

જ how simon realizes he comes back not because of faith but because of you.

* i was raised in a catholic school and instead of strengthening my faith, what it did was make me wanna consume sacrilegious works lmao so uhh yeah! this is kinda a fulfillment of that indulgence :’>

(ext) (ext 02) (ext 03)

[pissmaster228]

mhy really did Helia and Coralie DIRTY with that timeskip. They've been sent exploring where no CE human has been before, something that's both difficult and potentially /lethal/ See the IRL space race for a close example, all of them went through gruelling training and were fully prepared to not come back.

(contains events from Oxia's chapter 2 so don't read if you haven't finished that)

Helia's a workaholic who's OBSESSED obsessed with getting stronger and romanticized going out in a blaze of glory since childhood. (dorm and bridge interactions) (Hey doesn't that remind you of anyone) Being an A-rank doesn't help. May I remind you she's been a valkyrie since Otto was in charge? Her A-rank title is her greatest pride. She's been mentored by the Goddess of Earth and yet she's still objectively speaking a nobody.

Coralie, in contrast, is a BIG SHOT. She's got furry mutations, got a PhD at 17, her parents are leaders of a military branch(AE is a branch of the US army right? or am i misremembering?), she inserted the Planck constant into her name ffs. Basically almost all the time she was the most specialest girl in the room.

Then these two spent a year locked together in a rocket(why were they flying by spaceship, again?) and started their most exciting mission of mining rocks with Helia as the muscle and Coralie as the brain.(Coralie insists Helia isn't dumb, just childish) Helia took care of things like maintenance (she wrote the voyage log for example) Then they discover an analogous structure to the Eye of the Deep(lovingly nicknamed the Sandpit) and try to pry it open(Tesla HATED the idea, Nagamitsu was very enthusiastic though)(why is this woman still working for Schicksal again?). Du-dunn, they get inside and now they're stuck in a bubble universe where their earthly titles mean nothing, their roles in an explorer team are already taken by other people (Sena, Entropy) and bitches who seem to know Something keep talking about using them as a blood sacrifice(Perception, Chenxue). Yeah, rub it in that they're disposable.

Coralie is very openly pissed about it. She's stuck far away from her home, surrounded by UwU quirky beings and worst of all, she's there because she didn't listen to her mom. And Helia? That's been her reality forever. She stays silent in discussions because she feels like she has nothing to contribute, she's always guarding the rear when they walk somewhere(visible in group shots, wasn't stated outright) and when Lantern ambushes them she doesn't try to flee like Songque, doesn't take out her weapons in a defensive stance like Coralie(well guns aren't the most defensive weapon but you get what i mean) but steps forward as if attempting to shield Entropy and Senadina with her body. Helia is literally the Valkyrie Ideal. Valuing protecting others over her life, even if they barely know each other. Also abs.

oh my god this got way longer than i thought it would and i didn't even mention the Union episode

[rederiswrites]

Ok, I swear, this one's for the people who DON'T follow K-pop, and only know BTS as some Korean boyband that uses a lot of autotune. Just to highlight some things I'm currently enjoying the hell out of from their careers. Lemme start with some context.

So in Korea, Idol is a job above and beyond just performing onstage. You are meant to be a product. An object for adoration, specifically trained and cultivated to create the sort of parasocial relationship that sells out shows and merchandise. It is fucking rigorous. It usually involves substantial economic hardship unless and until you're one of the handful of groups that makes it big. It's also blatantly predatory, and idols are chosen when they're literally kids, at most 18 usually.

Your contract with the label frequently specifies that you're not allowed to swear, smoke, date, or generally do anything not squeaky clean anywhere you might be seen, which, since they've got cameras shoved up your ass and bolted to your bed, is everywhere. Merely touching a person of the opposite sex can set off a whole scandal and get you (or the poor unfortunate you breathed near) a huge pile of hate. They're also perfectly aware that they're "just" idols, just boybands or girl bands, to a lot of people, and not considered serious musicians, even in their own country.

Idols also have a pretty short shelf-life. Korean beauty standards are, as far as I can tell, even more youth-obsessed than in the US. The oldest female artists are like, 34. There's like, one woman over 30 for every twenty under 20. Men's careers often founder on their mandated military service, which is roughly two years (depending on branch). They've got to serve that by the time they're 30.

BTS got extensions, because they're a statistically significant percent of the entire South Korean GDP. But now the elder members have got to do their service, no way around it. Kim Seokjin (Jin) went in a couple months ago, Jung Hoseok (J-Hope) a few days ago. So the group is on hiatus, there's no helping it.

That was the background. What happens now is the fun part.

The Korean government played politics, bouncing back and forth on "should idols big enough get exemptions" for years, specifically namedropping and using BTS as a political toy. BTS themselves didn't comment on any of it, and played their cards very close to their chest and said nothing about their military service. Then they did a huge concert in Busan, Korea, where they resurrected an old rap cipher which involves chanting "Fuck you I don't care, you can't control my shit", performed it with such fire that it looked like they were legit about to start a riot, and then the next week announced that they were going on hiatus and Jin was entering the military.

Since then, let's see: nearly every member has at least posted a shirtless photo, and the three youngest members have done entire photoshoots (and in one case a music video) shirtless. Jimin released a single titled "Set Me Free"--not terribly subtle--and a photoshoot he made a point of saying he'd designed from the ground up, which is SOAKED in queer symbology. I have to emphasize that these choices are all MUCH more significant than they would be in the US. Min Yoongi put an entire album full of rage and violent imagery and painful intimacy and swearing, and smoked and shot people and performed self-harm in his music videos. J Hope released an album full of dark driving rhythms utterly unlike his previous work, and broke sales records as a solo star at Lollapalooza, even while still singing and rapping primarily in Korean.

Some of the members are quieter, clearly a bit unmoored without the thing that has shaped and dictated their entire adult lives, but they're also shrugging off the idol image with deep relief. Namjoon is philosophizing and being extremely frank about mental struggles and crying on camera. Jungkook is having regular almost uncomfortably intimate lives, where he just sings along with the music or folds his laundry or even just smiles sleepily at the camera for a while. Who the hell knows what Taehyung does. Exactly as he pleases, probably, but definitely while wearing thousands of dollars of fashion and looking like the prince of the dark sidhe.

I was looking forward to this. Not to the military service, of course. As a non-Korean, I'm well aware that it's none of my damn business, but of course I don't like it. But I was looking forward to these guys slipping the leash and having lives and careers beyond the chains of idolhood. And it's been pretty awesome so far.

[dwcmarshalarts]

hey dwc! or is marshal ok? second ask ive sent you want but wanted to learn about it in your one piece i recall in the background seeing a UN blue armband with white cross which is your stand-in for the red cross which is pretty neat more recently you make an improved rank system however there was one issue i noticed, in that piece with the armband i recognised that the soldiers (enlisted) had different rank badges (in another older piece too) and was wondering if you could share a similair explainer for those too! officers granted are cool but its always neat to hear more about the military proletariat that make up the 99%, especially when they're the critical backbone like sgt's, and was wondering how you approached warrant officers if you went with a more american or british style (fellow worldbuilder here for a more cold-war era setting with some retro-futuristic undertones: not throwing shade but hearing about the enlisted is pretty cool, especially since i wanna know how the poor enlisted sailors, marines, soldiers & airmen get treated within the confines of the icc's military) additionally: in one of your other pieces for a comission i rememeber some destinctly british styled uniforms and was wondering if those were one-offs for that comission or those were the "space british" in the westminster area of the icc

being of (nominally) british origin / brought up in a country that uses the same rank insignia i've always had a soft spot for it and like to hear about our shared representation across space thats normally overlooked for more american influences i intend to ask in the future so prepare yourself for 8 trillion character long asks :ppp hope your having a good day <3

Many questions, but good ones nonetheless. Thanks, to start off with, your attentiveness to detail and dedication to following along enough to notice these things! Let's break it down one by one.

What about the rank system?

I'm presuming you mentioned this:

These are indeed enlisted, non-commissioned officer ranks. They also appear in similar, but different concept here:

As my story focuses on mainly commissioned ranks, I haven't really had much time to do/focus on the enlisted as much, as they (so far at least) have only had occasional appearances. Whenever I get to the meat of Season 2 and 3, they'll be featured more prominently.

That said, I haven't really nailed down the Enlisted rank system as much. Though I'm working with a friend to formalize it!

What about the Warrant Officers?

So, funny story. Years ago when I was much younger, I was obsessed with Civil War History. Still am, though maybe not to the same degree. I learned the command structure of commissioned ranks through reading the Orders of Battle and whatnot. To my surprise, that order has largely remained the same to this day, down to the insignia per rank. That's the springboard I jumped off when I set about assembling the ICC's Armed Forces, Ground Forces in particular.

The thing is, I'd overlooked Warrant Officers- since their institution was entirely predated by the 1860s by a whole 30-something years. As a result, I haven't really thought about where they would be. In my head, a lot of the specialist jobs held by them though would be taken by lower ranked Commissioned Officers (Junior or Senior Lt's.) But it'd make sense if they were around as well.

In any case, I have a clear idea for where we could see them pop up in Xever's story.

Treatment of the Enlisteds

The Interstellar Cooperation Circuit isn't the Galactic Empire. The I.C.C. is indeed geo/stellarpolitically predatory, but it generally treats soldiers within its ranks *fairly* alright, and not as disposable pawns like the Imperial Military/Stormtrooper Corps/(insert evil empire troopers from x sci fi series here). Mileage varies between the branches though.

Ground Forces I don't have any exact numbers, but the Ground Forces would by far be the largest branch in the Circuit military. The name "Ground Forces" would seem to imply they'd be analogous to modern "Armies." While they're largely inspired by that, and you'd be able to trace their in-universe lineage to them, they actually handle plenty more than just literal ground operations. The official name of Ground Forces is "Terrestrial Operations," which refers to any military action taken on a planet's surface. While this does predominantly consists of traditional, ground-based combat, this also does include terrestrial/surface navy and planet-specific air power components. Ground Forces's mission is long-term accomplishment of the Circuit's Foreign Policy objectives and spearhead of most terrestrial missions.

That all said, that means they have the most severe case of logistical sprawl. On the books, the Circuit has rules and regulations that protect individual servicemen from harsh treatment, unethical conduct, etc. The basics. But, especially for units in further off parts of the ICC reach, supplies can be short.

On top of all of this, Ground Forces are expected to handle a myriad of different climates, environments, and exposure to various degrees of colonization, urban development, etc.

There'd be no simple answer to how Ground Forces enlisteds are treated, as inner-system bases closer to the Circuit core would be better off than outposts in the peripheries, etc.

ICC Navy The ICC Navy, in sharp contrast to the Ground Forces, is proportionally better funded, better equipped, and frequently paraded.

Originally having started off as a glorified Merchant Marine, the ICC Navy eventually take from domestic Naval forces and became a formalized Military Branch some time in the 23rd century.

Since protection of Interstellar Trade and the power of keeping commercial lines open, as well as inter-system border security and Circuit defense was what allowed for Ground Forces to operate at all, the Navy became increasingly crucial. Life aboard the Circuit's fleets was, by comparison to the barracks on dingy outposts, a little bit more bearable. For Naval personnel, they didn't have to worry about the rocking of traditional, terrestrial boats, nor did they have to worry about favorable weather conditions. Their equipment didn't break down as easily, and outside of the rare, pre-war battery exchanges, any fighting that was done by the Navy was handled by the Naval Marine- which were significantly better equipped and trained than the Ground Forces, largely due to their much smaller size and specialized focuses.

Before the Second Galactic War in 2365, the ICC Navy expected such little, major combat that higher ranking officers frequently attended work in their dress uniforms instead of combat fatigues, as the job was largely more management than direct operations.

The Voidfarers The runt of the litter and the most recently added branch to the ICC's military, the Voidfarers are the ICC"s dedicated, independent starfighter corps. To separate them from Navy starfighters, the Voidfarers have "permanent" bases on planets or orbital stations, and their mission is less to engage in any potential heavy combat (unless directed to support Naval operations), and more to plug in the gaps not covered between the obligations of Ground Forces and Navy, such as protection of trade routes where sending a large naval vessel wouldn't make sense, or providing air support where Ground Forces may be lacking. As such, the Voidfarers have the least amount of resources, but are designed to function without too much support outside of hardware maintenance. Voidfarer units are usually quite small, and sparsely positioned, so a large part of the Voidfarer identity is how rare they are compared to the bigger two branches.

Day to day life for Voidfarers can comfortably be considered mundane- for even disparate/far off postings, action is seldom had.

Commonwealth of New Westminster

The British-inspired military uniforms you might be thinking of, while used in a commission, are indeed in-universe designs.

The history here is that the CNW was an area of space largely settled by Commonwealth Nations (predominantly the UK) during early space colonization in the 20th and 21st Century. Instead of steadily forging their own identity like Greksil (the crucial ICC Founding Member), they more closely followed their Old Earth institutions and still regarded the reigning monarch as their Head of State. During the First Galactic War between Old Earth and her colonies against Greksil and her allies, the CNW sat out, and when the war was over, served as the refuge for an escaping Royal Family when order on Old Earth began to collapse.

Ever since then, the CNW has been on a largely independent streak- partaking in interstellar deals while still refusing to kowtow. When the ICC was formed, they waited a couple decades to join, and would only do so on the conditions that they maintained a high degree of autonomy, including their own separate currency and military while also helping train and organize the nascent Circuit Armed Forces.

Hope that clarifies some things!

[fatgumsurpremacy-remastered]

Can I request yandere emesis blue engineer and his brothers all pinning after somewhat oblivious s/o?

I love your writing, it's amazing! Have a good day and stay healthy.

Yesss , thank you so so so much my friend

Tw: general feelings of dread and anxiety, unknown captivity, chase sequence, obsession, threats?, mentions of inter dimensional travel, oblivious to doom. Pet names (sugar, darling)

Dell didn’t know what you thought of him, when you had met for the first, and only time you barely spoke. His parents had hosted a party, you were a prime guest. His parents had expected him to speak to you, but he wasn’t certain how special you were. Until you got to talking, he wasn’t sure if you were comfortable with him or if he was comfortable with you but in an instant you two seemed kindred. He was swept off his feet at the sheer amount of knowledge you had in your interests. Even more astonishing was the fact you were not only interested in his inventions but his hobbies too.

You’d convinced him to make you a drink that night. And when he made you an original you fell in love with it.

He swore he wouldn’t go another day without seeing that smile.

But fate is a cruel mistress.

You excused yourself an hour later, leaving the man alone again… then he got to wondering. He wandered around in search of you. He asked around for you and no one knew.

No one knew you existed.

He tried to find your parents but to no avail, he asked his brothers and they had no clue.

One thing was certain though, they all loved you.

Maynard remarked on the situation, how funny you were, and how you seemed to be more mindful of what was happening around you. Zed thought the same, but pointed out a fact the brothers had been avoiding.

You were gorgeous.

You were smart.

And you were sociable.

At least to them.

Their search was frantic, and even so they didn’t get what they wanted. You’d come in from out of town, your parents ran a artillery company, and you had a vested interest in sciences involving alternate universes.

That’s what they had to go off; they searched through every yellow page they could grab onto. Still, whenever they get they got a shred of evidence they gave up.

When they determined their search was fruitless they got to fanaticism.

The years went by.

Dell got stuck in a machine known as a trap to his family, and his brothers had to cope with the fact they’d only ever see him in short intervals.

You came before the loop started.

Some thing within Dell told him you were there before he knew. He felt an imbalance, an energy he’d been connected to. The energy field within the respawn made him privy to environmental changes. He felt the courses move around him, he wanted out… but he didn’t know why.

He was shocked when he felt you.

He could almost feel your touch against his arm as you dragged your hand along the side of the slaughterhouse. It was a sensation new to him, and almost completely unwelcome.

You’d changed… but not in a bad way.

Youd been found after years of searching. But in the least likely way. The news had a funny way of exposing those who would rather not be noticed. You were one who could go without the paparazzi. With all the news sources asking you about your new inheritance, you had to give your sense of mind. You remarked on your business branching out into the scientific field, offering to aid NASA in further scientific discovery.

This was a good place to start.

In all the Conagher Slaughterhouse was a known front for illegal experiments, and a past monolith in military grade, privatized weapons. Why any country would allow such a building was beyond you. And the men there were far stranger.

When you’d called and asked the owners about visiting the place they seemed far too excited for your liking. You thought of backing down out of instinct alone. But science called for this.

This place was a hotspot in scientific anomaly.

When the men answered the door you were taken aback. The country clothes seemed unbefitting for their titles. They were certainly Conaghers as their faces showed remarkable similarity to their fathers.

The taller of the two rubbed his neck, mouth agape before stuttering and facing his brother. He clearly- wasn’t good at words. “Um- hi.”

His deep voice echoed slightly in the cavernous area. The dark atmosphere made everything seem quieter… more eerie. The need to turn tail overtook you but you stilled yourself and faked a smile. You held out your hand right as the bickering started.

“UhM Hi!” The shorter one mocked, annoyingly. “Hi sugar, I’m sorry bout my brother. He don’t know too many manners.” He took your hand in his and attempted to kiss it before his brother caught him by the cheeks.

Much to your relief.

He seemed as flabbergasted as you were, granted you couldn’t see either of their eyes.

“I’m so sorry, we’re happy to have you here today. If you’ll excuse him, we’ve been anxious to have you around and he’s trying to lighten the mood.” The other shook his head in objection but you could tell but the quiet pained groan that the former squeezed harder.

He let him go and offered his hand to you.

“Maynard Conagher. This is my younger brother Zed.” Zed scoffed at his brother before smiling at you. “You ain’t have to call me that sugar, I go by a lot of names.”

“What exactly would you like me to call you then sir?” You asked bluntly, not taking the hint.

“Ooh! I like that, you can call me sir all youd-!” His brothers elbow came into harsh contact with his solar plexus. Making the younger wheeze in pain.

“Please excuse him.” Maynard said once again, you smiled at him. Still not understanding exactly what Zed was implying.

“It’s quite alright. Should we start the tour Mr. Conagher?” You turned towards the seething younger. “Sir?” His head perked up and he smiled, almost bashfully. He leaned against the door and gestured inwards.

“Right this way.”

The slaughterhouse was sweltering. After about an hours tour you found yourself needing to take a seat. Maynard went to fetch drinks for the three of you. You had to stay behind with his brother.

As you checked off areas on your clipboard you noticed Zed staring at you. And intense grin stayed on his shadowed face.

You waved awkwardly at him. He wiggled his fingers back at you. Not saying much.

You went to go look down at your board again before he pushed it down.

“Do you remember me?”

You looked back up in surprise, staring back up at the man. He smelled like beer and oil, and another something rancid that you would rather not place. As you searched your mind you couldn’t think of a damn thing. The stress you’d been put under lately was doing weird shit to your memory. You politely said no, smiling in hopes Zed would leave you alone.

He frowned, but backed off all the same.

He walked back with little reaction other than that. Instead he pulled a lighter from his pocket and flicked it open. You watched as the open flame danced in the stagnant atmosphere of the room. He shut it off and spun it again before speaking.

“I remember you.”

He said with a hushed tone.

“We. Remember you.” He corrected with a scowl.

“I’m sorry?” You questioned, curious on many fronts, but mostly due to the somber tone of his voice.

“You heard me,” Zed answered coolly, “you and I. We danced in my parents house, little over a decade ago. You said I was a good dancer, one of the best in the town of memory served me right. I take it You don’t dance much though. Too caught up in all them guns.”

He stood slowly, his postion across the room looming.

“You think you could drop in like a bombshell and expect not to make an impact sugar?” He took a couple steps forward. The action startled you, and you held a finger out.

“Can you stay there please? It’s already pretty hot in here and I’d rather not be much warmer.”

He sat where he stood, one leg up, and the other flat on the ground. He leaned into the propped one.

“Tell me. How many of us are there?”

You contemplated for a minute then had a strange epiphany.

“There’s supposed to be three.”

“That there is sugar.”

A chill ran down your spine, and on shaky legs you stood. A sick grin crawled on Zeds face as Maynard walked back with the drinks cheerfully. Zed stood stock straight in an instant and Maynard set the drinks on a nearby table in case he needed to bolt too.

“I’d follow your gut pretty thing.”

And with that you ran. Faster than you’d ever ran before. Pure adrenaline burst through your veins and you heard Zed shouting at his brother to go the opposite direction. You prayed there was a hallway that split in three. Despite your tour you felt hopelessly lost.

You passed several crates on your way past the entrances, and on one side you saw Maynard. His hand reached out, like he was trying to stop you. You continued striaght.

The heels of your feet never touched the damn ground. And you kept your back board straight. You prayed inwardly to anything that would listen that you’d could be saved. But then you were pushed.

Pushed directly into a room filled with boxes and an opening on the other side. The door behind you closed with a heavy thud, trapping your coat on the other side. You heard heavy breathing from the other doorway.

In a panicked state you flipped over, kicking the boxes in the process to slow your capture down. You backed up enough to hit a wall and that’s when the bright white light shattered.

The room was incased in darkness, and all that stood between you and doom was the smallest chance that the one you stared at was docile.

Behind the boxes you could hear a deeper voice, softer though. So you had to strain to hear.

“We spent so long lookin for you.” He said sadly. Like he was on the verge of tears. You heard his large frame slide against the wall to the floor. He pressed his hand to the box and spoke again.

“You know we spent dann near ten years trynna find you? I continued to learn the piano like you suggested, I learnt how to cook like you encouraged me to.” He sighed, and you could hear quiet sighs from beyond.

“It was one night that we saw you but we pleaded every night for you to come back to us. You just-“

You tuned him out, what was the point of hearing his speech out when you could be escaping?

You felt around for something behind you. A weapon, or a board, or something.

And you found something.

A cold draft covered your skin in goosebumps and you felt around further.

A grate.

A loose great.

It took a slight shift to pry it off the wall completely… and halfway across the room.

“And thats… what was that?” You heard panic in the voice there. Without a second thought you started to crawl through, hauling a box along with you to push behind and give you time if they got through.

“WERE …. DONT LET… FIND ONE THEN!” You heard bits and pieces of their conversation as you made your way through the air vent. You crawled along for what seemed like two minutes before you leaned unto your back and kicked the second grate.

In this room you felt the air change. No longer was it stuffy and hot, but it was cool, circulated.

And in the center stood something beautiful.

You stared at the glowing doorway like machine. Your eyes glittered with the flickering, almost magical portal opening. You stuck a hand through it then back out: your injuries on that hand seemed to vanish. You gasped.

This was incredible.

This was what you came here for. You chuckled, wondering what this would lead you to.

But the moment was short lived as the door opposite you was kicked in.

With little hesitation you jumped through the portal

Instead of being met with a new world… you were met with the soft greying ground before a bar.

Your brow furrowed in confusion, and you could hear voices above you.

Except you wondered if those were real.

Behind you was a long, long road. And before you was a welcoming building. And so you walked forward.

The bell above you chimed as you walked in, you took in the bold reds contrasted to harsh white lighting.

At the bar stood a man in a fine red suit. You blinked owlishly, trying to take in the situation. As you sat on a stool you saw him out his cup down.

“Mighty glad you could make it here dear.” He said casually before he pulled a brandy glass from under him. He filled the glass and turned to you with a smile.

You felt sick to your stomach.

“This one my families been working on for a while, why don’t you give it a try?”

Your head spun, and you tried to push yourself away from the bar, and towards the bathrooms. You fell and hit the forums shortly after standing howver.

“Aw, you look awful scared darlin’ something spook you?” The mans footsteps softly clicked over to you before you were brought into his arms. Your head tucked under his chin, his frame impossibly caging you.

“It’ll be alright, we’ve got eternity in here.”

[mushyposts]

New ocs 👀

Or is just pov and I am confused 🤔

Either way I am so excited to see!!!!!

I also am kinda wondering what are you fire Nation laws?(Everyone has different ones)

not a new OC! Som very special people are getting POV's in the next chapter hehehe... Im not too sure what you mean by laws, so im gonna take it as a general "What are the major laws thatll effect the fic" kind of thing! The Fire Nation has legal banishment for everyone, which I mentioned offhandedly in the fic. You can send a document to the Fire Lord, but usually its seen by his representatives for that area, to get someone you are legally in charge of (your children, adopted or not, anyone ur the legal guardian of, OR if they've committed treason under the military branch ur in control of! although that can sometimes open u up to speculation, why are so many in ur command questioning our great nation??? What are you teaching them?) banished, this can be conditional (like Zuko's was) or it can be permanent. Sexuality isnt spoken about, theres technically no laws around homosexuality as it isnt even given as an OPTION, the only law that mentions it is that any relationship not mentioned by Agni's words, is not permitted and is seen as a crime against Agni, and is punishable by conditional banishment or even death in some spaces. Since Sozin removed any mention of homosexuality, polyamory, or honestly any relationship/gender outside the cishet binary, this means that without even MENTIONING the idea of homosexuality, as they did not want to even give a name to it as name is power, they've made it functionally illegal. Agni Kai MUST be fought between the parties who initiated it. The one who asks, the one who accepts, unless the Fire Lord says otherwise. This includes him taking the place of, or even permitting (read: Forcing) others to take place for either party. This is meant to be used to protect members who may be unable to properly fight, but still need to have their honour protected. It is. NOT used in that way, usually used as a way for two people engaged in an Agni Kai to try get as better fighter as they can OR Ozai may swap strong benders for weaker one where he wishes another party to win. There arent many laws around women or men's roles. Its more so centric around bender or non-bender. If you can bend, you're expected to do military service on the battle grounds. If you cant, then youre expected to do compulsory military service as a desk worker or something of the sorts. very low ranking, but still something. Very rare for non-benders to climb up the ranks, this got more prevalent during Ozai's rule. I think for the most part the Fire Nation would rule through the unsaid, the inexplicit. Propaganda, subtle laws, technicalities. Keeping their nation as in the dark as they can, lack of proper education/severely distorted education (This is displayed in canon too when Aang goes to the fire nation school.) and it was done slowly, subtly over the years of the war, through twisted narratives. I do believe in explicit laws being present, of course, but I also think sometimes the most dangerous of things said, is what is left unsaid. Lack of explicit, direct legislation, also would give Ozai the opportunity to use loopholes, or consistently falling on Agni's word seeing as he is Agni's will on earth, he can do whatever TF he wants. Less explicit, the better for him in the long run. UH! Thats all I can think of at this point hehe. Also to be clear I havent actually watched LOK, nor have I read all the comics, so this is all based on my own world building after years of obsession w ATLA and atp im too attached to it to let the other stuff change my mind i am SORRY... I also just dont have time ot read all the comics and watch LOK.

[lostbluewind]

A beautiful Pro-Palestine adaptation of Pete St. John's Fields of Athenry, a song about the wake of the Great Hunger / the Great Famine. Like Oh Palestine Oh Palestine, Seth is donating all streaming revenue to Operation Olive Branch, which will go to families in Gaza. The link to stream, which currently has 8,519 plays, on Spotify can be found here.

The description of the video on Youtube, which as of May 14, 2024 has 31,587 views, reads:

"*All streaming revenue will be donated to families in Gaza via Operation Olive Branch*

On the heels of yet another massacre of Palestinian civilians retrieving food aid, this time by an Israeli military helicopter, here is my adaptation of the poignant and timeless 'Fields of Athenry' by Pete St. John. The parallels between the Irish struggle for Independence and the Palestinian struggle are many, including their origins in British colonial occupation and the deployment of the Black and Tans in both Ireland and Palestine to subdue Irish and Arab nationalists through acts of terrorism and barbarity.

To quote British Israeli historian Avi Shlaim, "Since 1948 the Israelis have had the whip hand, and their victory in June 1967 has turned them into violent oppressors…from his [Edward Said's] perspective both peoples [Jews and Palestinians] were ‘communities of suffering’. It is precisely because the Jews suffered so much as the hands of the Nazis, according to Said, that they became obsessed with security and ended up as oppressors. This perspective helps to explain the psychology behind Israel’s violence and inhumanity towards the Palestinians, but it does not justify them.”

Today, Israel has killed or injured more than 100,000 Palestinians since Oct. 7th. At least 27 people, including 23 children have died of malnutrition and dehydration as Israel continues to block aid on the ground. Even the humiliation of air dropped food has not come without its toll, as five Palestinians were killed when the parachute malfunctioned on one such airdrop in Gaza city on March 8th. This barbarity must end and the people of Palestine must be granted their freedom"

Lyrics:

By a lonely border wall I heard a mother crying “Waladay, they're tak’n you away For you dared to throw them stones At the mighty Israeli drones Now an army truck lies waiting in the lane"

Low lie the fields of Palestine Where every Spring the olive trees did bloom Our love was in the toil, as we nurtured land and soil, Now it’s lonely 'round the fields of Palestine

By a lonely prison wall I heard a young boy calling "Nothing matters, mother, when you're free Against soldiers taking our land I tried to take a stand Now I’m forced to suffer cold indignity”

Low lie the fields of Palestine Where every Spring the olive trees did bloom Our love was in the toil, as we nurtured land and soil, Now it’s lonely 'round the fields of Palestine

By a lonely harbor wall She watched the last stars falling As missiles lit up the evening sky Still in hope, she dwells, night and day For her kin she fervently prays It's so lonely 'round the fields of Palestine

Low lie the fields of Palestine Where every Spring the olive trees did bloom Our love was in the toil, as we nurtured land and soil, Now it’s lonely 'round the fields of Palestine

[streets-in-paradise]

The Road So Far - Andy Barclay x (Fem) Winchester!Reader

Warnings: Slight crossover with Supernatural, part of my unfinished crossover series starting in Childs Play 3 where the reader is a Winchester sibling and has a personality resemblance with Gabriel. This oneshot includes a discussion on Chucky's bizzare journey through the lenses of the supernatural lore.

Summary: Andy revisits with you how far Chucky has come and your perspective introduces plenty of new concerns for him. From the exponential escalation in the vision of the doll's plans you inspire him a question he had never asked to himself before.

Is a Chucky that keeps coming back to life no matter what actually worse or better than one accepting his place in hell ?

Tags: @losersclubisms ( i'm posting this for you. I wouldn't have dared to do it if it wasn't for your excitement when i told you about it)

It was often believed that hunter’s first case could remain with them forever, referring to the role of personal revenge and obsession possibly marking the path of their careers. Andy Barclay could be a poster boy for that slogan, but he could also be the joke of the community. Even among insane people chasing monsters he would be an outcast, underestimated as heavily as his nemesis was. It was unbelievable that the killer doll could keep coming back, what in the philosophy of hunting had to be a failure of the man in charge of keeping him down. At the eyes of the others Andy would be assumed to be terrible at hunting because a possessed toy kept escaping him no matter how many times he would get to kill him. For obvious reasons he avoided all sorts of networking for the job. Isolated and obsessed is how he preferred to do his thing, 

At least in that, he was a bit like your father and you hated letting Freud win. The sweet boy you once met in the military school, your first infatuation, had at least some sense of normality he wanted to reclaim for himself. The man he had become was a complete mess lost to the lifestyle: he lived in a cabin armed to the teeth, and had mastered several methods of torture. He was a freak, too threatening for the normals but not enough for the hunters, and you were insanely attracted to him. Even since you reconnected the realization kept hitting harder the more time you spent with him. 

The little redhead bastard did his magic creating a situation so chaotic and unsustainable that Andy had to finally accept help. 

“ So,what’s the fucker’s game now? If you ask me, this erratic shit seems to point in so many directions.” You were theorizing out loud with him. “ Multiple dolls and now human possession happening simultaneously ? He is expanding and we have no idea of how many branches he has opened already. Did you get any public statements from the Chucky.Inc headquarters? “ 

The way in which you referred to the Chucky head showed you haven’t lost your touch over the years. 

“ Nothing, apart from some loud, nice screaming.” 

The sinister comment got him an approbation smirk from you. 

“ I’m gonna have to make you an indecent proposal.” Was your playful reply. “ You, me. A weekend in New Orleans to learn some new tricks and get back in the game. What do you say? I know of your no magic assistance policy, but you can’t continue like this. How many times are you going to fight spellwork with knives and bullets? Even the most close minded hunters go alternative from time to time. I’m not the witch of the family, that’s Sam, but the little I know I have learned from him.” 

He got lost at some point of your rambling because he couldn’t believe what he sensed in your tone. Not because he couldn't expect it from you, but due to the context in which it emerged.

“ Are you hitting on me right here and now? In the middle of this? ” 

The response he obtained was even more provocative. 

“ That depends … Are you up for it? 

He groaned with frustration, wondering why he bothered to call you. 

“ Andy, my dear. It’s so cute when I can still sense the naive boy deep inside of you.“ You mocked him sweetly. “ Hunters can do both, doing the research is a code for you know what …” 

“ I may be a bit behind in your cultural slang, but I’m definitely not naive. “ He rapidly replicated. “ I need you focused, Winchester, so stop the tease.” 

The subtle evocation to the old times made you chuckle. 

“ Sure, general! We are going to war. The problem is … With what kind of weaponry?  I can’t just get holy water, buy a pack of flour and hope for the best while the little menace keeps upgrading the mojo. We are completely unprepared, so we also need to update the methods.” 

“ We can’t, there is no time. “ He insisted. “ Each moment we spend preparing means more bodies he would be dumping.” 

There was no easy way to explain what you just had to tell him. He had a very micro approach of the problem, struggling to see the bigger picture, and over the course of your life the pile of crap following your last name had already forced you to adopt a macro view. 

“ I hate to say this because I know I sound like a senseless bitch,  but there is so much more at risk if the cult keeps growing. I’m talking of an invasion of clones. Your little overlooked problem can become a worldwide threat if it begins to spread like a disease. Chucky could become the Alpha for a new brand of monsters, so I really need a plan more sustainable than bullets and an industrial fan this time.” 

At least then he could tell you were completely focused, but it was enough to alarm him even more than he already was. 

“ You mean Chucky as the father of an entire race?” Andy summarized in an ask. “ There would be vampires, werewolves and Chuckies? Is that what you mean? Why don’t we start with the bassics before you make me freak out? What do you know about soul splitting?” 

A delicate topic you unfortunately know very much about. 

“ I know what happens when you lose your soul, I have seen the full process from very close and I can tell you it’s no game. What truly makes you be yourself is not there anymore, or at least part of it seems gone. Chucky is a heartless prick, so I guess the most shocking aspect of soulessness wouldn’t do much on him, but it could still affect his personality. We can imagine that the more he splits, the more of himself he loses and there will be a point where there would be nothing left. The vessels would not be clones anymore reflecting this lack of original substance and this is when a herd could start becoming a race.” 

“ You have to be fucking kidding me! ” He cursed out loud. “ How screwed could we be by now? “ 

Your attempt to comfort him with some hipotetical positivity wasn't as good as you judged it.

“ It could be worse, he could have faced his fate and embraced hell like he embraced the doll body. He would eventually become a demon and he would not need any chants to make the posessions. "

The comment was delivered so cassually, but the effect those words had in him were a groundbreaking discovery. So simple, yet never considered.

If Chucky would die once and for all, he would go to hell but even from down there he could still keep causing damage to the living.

" So, one way or another he still gets to possesss people.Even if the doll would be gone forever."

It was a door you never should have opened.

" Well, demons can be killed but you have to count with the ríght weapons. The bright side is that the demonification process can take a long while in hell and currently most low rank demons are bureaucrats answering to a central power. Chucky would hate it, he can't follow orders. He wants to be obbeyed …."

You stopped yourself at the edge of your conclussion for an even darker realization.

" He would destabilize hell untill getting crowned king. " Andy finished it for you. " If he wouldn't be wasting time up here, as a demon he could have made it to the top of their hierarchy. "

" He is persistent, insane, power hungry and patient enough for me to see it happening " You confessed ríght away. " It took centuries for Crowley, but i don't know how long it would take him. Chucky has proven to evolve at a considerably high speed. It only took him a few decades to become a latent massive threat."

He didn't know how to feel. Was his eternal struggle a protective sacrifice? Was he doomed to a lifetime of keeping Chucky distracted so he wouldn't find out there were bigger, cosmic scale evil goals he could achieve by accepting death?

" Should we comfort ourselves with that? Does he need to keep coming back to life as a doll so he wouldn't realize he has the potentiality to destroy the universe or something?"

" It's more complex than that, he would fuck up cosmic balance with his self centered revenge based rulling style and make life miserable for many many living and dead beings. " You carefully explained. " For example: the base of my family's survival for a long time has been sick pacts to keep each other alive because we are hipocrites. If Chucky rules, he owns our asses. He could also coronate his victory taking you as vessel, although at least I gotta say your body would look very nice in one of those kingpin suits. "

You exceeded the límits, accidentally forgetting that he had never gone through that and still reasonably feared it.

" I'll never let that happen to you, ok? " You reassured him, subtly moving to hold his hand. " Not by demon Chucky or regular Chucky. I'm actually proud you have made it so far intact and we are going to keep it that way. You know what? Since Kyle is on this too, I can call my brothers for backup and make it a full family thing."

It was kind of sweet, but the idea intimidated him.

" Your celebrity status, expert brothers? No thanks. It would be embarrasing. "

" Don't worry, I feel insecure arround your normal sister so I think we are on the same page. "

The confession surprised him and you found yourselves giving reassuring advice to each other. It felt nice, specially when you trapped him in a tender hug showing genuine affection.

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

Administration of the Defence of Canada Regulations (DOCR)

"Administering the DOCR proved to be a boon to the careers of RCMP men. At the start of World War II, the Intelligence Section of the RCMP was a six-man operation at headquarters, attached to the Criminal Investigation Branch. By 1943, there were now 98 in the headquarters operation of the Intelligence Section, with important increases in the field: twenty more men working in Toronto, nineteen in Montreal and nine in Vancouver.

The effect of World War II on the overall size of the RCMP was also impressive. The RCMP force was immediately increased by 700 at the start of the war. On June 6, 1940, the list of police officers who could enforce the DOCR was expanded to include all RCMP officers from the rank of inspector and up, and officers of similar rank in the provincial police forces in Quebec and Ontario, as well as chiefs of police in municipalities with populations of more than 10,000. There were still not enough police. 

On June 24, 1940, RCMP Commissioner Wood wrote Ernest Lapointe to complain that he could no longer meet demand, especially in Toronto, Montreal, and Vancouver. Wood went so far as to express concern for the health of his men, so busy and over-extended were they. So, on August 30, 1940, authority to administer the DOCR was extended once again to include almost all police officers in Canada, whether at federal, provincial, or municipal levels.

One of the products of the increased RCMP workload were the monthly security bulletins issued by the Intelligence Section to senior federal officials and the Prime Minister’s Office (PMO). Right from the beginning, some of the recipients of the bulletins were wary of the value of the reports. Jack Pickersgill, second-in-command in the PMO, analyzed the bulletin of October 30, 1939. His comments reveal some of the deficiencies in the RCMP analysis; they bear summarizing:

no distinctions between fact and hearsay;

no distinctions between subversive doctrine, and legitimate social and political criticism;

obsession with Communists, to the exclusion of information about Nazis or Fascists;

no evidence of sabotage or espionage directed against Canada;

no co-ordination with military intelligence, censorship officials, immigration officials, or External Affairs;

police spying on law-abiding Canadians, thus making the police political censors;

lack of capacity and training for real intelligence work directed against the real enemy.

Also wrote Pickersgill:

It is more likely that there are secret, German agents in the country. From a casual reading of these ‘Intelligence Bulletins’, one would scarcely realize that Canada was at war with Germany; there is not the slightest hint that anything is being done in the way of intelligent and well-directed anti-espionage work.

Pickersgill suggested that an intelligence branch be created within Justice, to whom the RCMP would report, in order to co-ordinate government intelligence efforts. 

Nonetheless, King, Lapointe, and the Justice Department continued to support the work of the RCMP in spite of criticism both internal and external to the government. When the tide turned against the government’s policies of repression of the left, the RCMP ceased the widespread distribution of security bulletins. One shouldn’t expect just administration of a law that is itself unjust.

The violations of normal, legal protections under the DOCR might also accrue to another element, however, which explains why internees were never explained the full nature of charges against them. Some information obtained by the RCMP was retrieved secretly from informers within the Communist Party, sources that had to be protected were they to continue to be useful. There is a series of letters that establishes the policy of the RCMP and government about this secret information. In the first of these letters, the Justice deputy minister wrote to the RCMP:

If you have evidence which has been obtained through the medium of a police secret agent, the identity of whom it would be extremely undesirable to disclose, then I suggest that you are not compelled to, and should not produce such evidence, even by withholding it you may have little in the way of other evidence to support the order for internment. The recommendation of the tribunal is only a recommendation and not a judgement, and the release of the appellant after the finding of the tribunal is a matter which is in the absolute discretion of the Minister of Justice, and he may, with or without assigning any reason, order the further internment or the release of the appellant. In cases where you do not disclose confidential information to the tribunal, you should notify the Department so that all the facts may be brought before the Minister when called upon to act in the matter.

When the RCMP asked if the instructions about secret information were to apply to enemy subjects, as well as to British subjects, Lapointe responded in the affirmative, adding that he would consult with the RCMP before freeing internees. At least, some of the explanation for the functioning of the DOCR, therefore, lies in the government’s protection of its espionage network among communists.

In fact, during the 1920s, an RCMP Staff-Sergeant, John Leopold, had become a highly placed informer within the Communist Party. Leopold, who used the pseudonym ‘Jack Esselwein’, had provided  evidence in 1931 that permitted the government to prosecute Tim Buck and seven of his  leading colleagues in the Party. During World War II, we know of at least one other RCMP informer within the Party, although there probably were more. A certain ‘Koyich’ was active in Alberta, a fact uncovered by Patrick Lenihan, a Calgarian, and Ben Swankey, from Edmonton, both of whom were interned in Hull."

- Michael Martin, The Red Patch: Political Imprisonment in Hull, Quebec during World War 2. Self-published, 2007. p. 76-80

[the-whispers-of-death]

I might have figured it out? Not 100% sure but here's the working theory 🫧Major Bandito spoilers in this one I guess

Obviously Bandito's tragic backstory happened way before any of this, and she's not a proper member of the 141 so in theory she can just be like mentioned briefly in Crow's first few chapters? And then Crow has some character development and then once his story's mostly done they have a mission together and Crow's like 'yay you didn't die and I didn't get my throat slit' but Bandito's like 'damn, my bandana ripped good job I have this spare yellow bandana that I keep in my inside pocket because it holds personal significance' but by this point even Ghost has had some of that good ol' character development with Crow and shown him (and maybe the 141) this polaroid of him and his best friend/sister (I still don't know) and told them about the gift he gave her and the reason he's so standoffish with Bandito is cause like 'she has her eyes also they both wore bandanas.' And Crow isn't stupid so he puts two and two together and manages to get Bandito wearing the yellow mask in a room with Ghost? Like messages Price or something like 'come up with an excuse for us to have to report to Ghost about the mission instead of you' and then angst ensues.

Writing this out helped, idk why it had to be in your inbox but it's fineee

I'm so glad you understand my pain though. Honestly no matter what you come up with you know we'll eat it up

I thank you for writing this in my inbox, because I ate it up. Crow finding out Bandito is Ghost's best friend/sister before Ghost does is so delicious, honestly. I'm obsessed officially.

But yeah, I'm half-tempted to just leave Heartthrob & Hellstorm in their respective U.S. military branches (U.S. Marine Corps & U.S. Navy) and just have them interact with Stone, Ladder, & the 141 like that. (Cause the 141 have worked with Marines before, in ModerWarfare 2.)

[anna-dreamer]

Сон Амариэ: a breakdown. Part 1

Sooo. Ever since that summer concert performance of Finrod in Moscow i've been obsessed with Сон Амариэ. I've thought a lot about strengths and hiccups of this song, and i really wanna talk about them. Full lyrics han be found here. Unfortunately, stupid Tumblr character limitation won't let me make it a single post so i will have to break it into several. Let's start with a common issue that can be conveniently summed up.

False semantic pairs (and other grammatical oddities)

There is a common problem in this song that if very typical for Finrod's lyrics in general. I am talking about concepts and ideas that are put into an associative pair but actually cannot form one due to a logical error. The first one we encounter early on, in the phrase Лес молчит, словно полк, лишённый короля. Now, granted, a king like Finrod is expected to also be a military commander, and it is natural for regiments to be led by him into battle and to lose their resolve and fall into silence when their king is suddenly gone. (Though i must say, here i read a weird subtext of 'disloyalty to the cause', as if someone is trying to rally this troop, but in response gets only silence. A really weird undertone to describe a still forest which it the only thing that is there to answer you - and it doesn't - when you call out a lover's name. But that might be just me. It's far more likely that Amarië invokes the imagery of Finrod's deeds in Endorë as she imagines them and feels a foreboding dread that he is not there anymore. Of course a forest can look as abandoned as a troop without a commander. It is, after all, a dream.) But still - it is plain that a pairing "regiment - king" is occasional and conditional. The most natural associative pairing for полк would be полководец, командир, офицер.

Чтобы верить, не нужны ни разум, ни глаза. Now, it is a beautiful sentiment that describes faith and trust against all reason and evidence. But there is still a problem, a case of misplaced metonymy! Разум (reason) is a non-material entity that is usually associated with a body part - a head. Глаза (eyes) is very much a material thing, it is a body part which corresponds with an immaterial sense - sight (зрение). The point being made in the lyrics is, in order to have faith, one needs neither to reason nor to see with their own eyes - or, in other words, one believes with neither their head nor their eyes. But the lyrics try to have it both ways, and it doesn't work. The author chooses to use разум instead of голова (or (иметь) глаза instead of видеть), and as a result we get a mismatch.

Ветви, словно руки, сплетают сеть. The logic in this metaphor is again faulty. True, we often compare tree branches to arms or hands, it's very common. (In Russian both arm and hand are called by the same word, рука.) But then this net thing creates a confusion. Branches indeed can interweave, and arms/hands (or rather fingers) can be interlocked. In Russian both these meanings can be expressed with cognate verbs плести, сплетать, переплетать, the root -плет- meaning 'weave'. The problem is that branches do not actually weave any nets of any material - they themselves intertwine in such a way that a net is formed. On the contrary, hands do weave nets, they are not a material, but an instrument for that. Again, there are two conflicting ideas in this sentence, and they cannot be combined into a functional metaphor. Now, i'm gonna add another entry, a bit of a different kind, that does not necessarily describe errors but still is worth mentioning.

В тьме и в свете я тебя по имени зову. A couple of things here. For euphony sake it is customary to use во not в when the preposition is followed by several consonants (во тьме). Here it is not so for the sake of rhythm. (Also it is worth mentioning just for completion sake that there are two words in Russian that both mean 'darkness': темнота and тьма. The latter, the one used in the song, carries more of an elevated, metaphorical meaning along with the literal one.) В свете is a curious thing, and it is a bit of a nitpick. I don't begrudge the author this form, in my opinion it is acceptable in a poetical work, but i feel it is still worth mentioning. The form в свете that appears in the song is actually a locative that is used not for material but immaterial entities. For carrying across a meaning 'in the light', 'being lit by light' one would say на свету or при свете. В свете is a form that belongs to a word that usually has a separate dictionary entry. It is свет as in 'world', '(high) society'. Here is an example from Eugen Onegin: when Tatiana's husband sees that Onegin does not recognise his wife, he tells Onegin, Давно ж ты не был в свете! Charles H. Johnston has it translated as "...you banish yourself too long from social life". Again, in our case this form comes to use for convenience sake and is used for poetical uniformity. Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

[unclewaynemunson]

anon from earlier returning; i think wayne is all of the above on the scott to eddie scale lol. i think in his youth he was innocent and good, he was not unlike scott but I very much see wayne as having served in some branch of the military, enlisted because he is that good man and he seen a way he could help. But it bred that distrust in The Man, that realization no one is watching out for the little guys, and it hardened him with what he seen on a daily basis. Which means he raised eddie with that and, of course, eddie really ran with it but it also means that he admires scott for living a life that didn't rob him of that awww shucks attitude. it's something wayne wishes he still had and would do anything to keep it for scott.

Did I already tell you i am in love with you?? I'm obsessed with the idea of Wayne as a sweet naive little boy and having that innocence taken away from him in such a tragic way. It's kinda difficult to imagine him as anything but a gruff middle aged man, but yes, of course there was a time before life knocked him down and got him all bitter and disillusioned. Oh shit now I'm sad :(

I can imagine Wayne's brother (Eddie's father) trying to get him into all kinds of schemes when they were younger, toeing that line between mischief and crime, but Wayne never really getting to be as much of a troublemaker as his brother. And then when he meets Scott he kinda gets reminded of those times before life did him dirty, and it's such a precious thing to him, and he finds himself smiling more often and he's so fond of everything Scott does and !!! He just wants to protect that so badly

[eriadu-in-the-wildwood]

Fooooor the recent writer's questions:

6 (AD&VD), 12 but both for smut and general, 18 (SbS), 26, 34, 50!

6. What’s one fact about the universe of A Dark & Verdant Door that you didn’t get a chance to mention in the fic itself?

I didn’t really get a chance to explore Yaz’s world beyond Sheffield, or the world the Warden is from, since those were beyond the scope of that story. Things that would be fun to think about/write about would be the politics of Yaz’s world, what was up with her early military training, maybe some sort of new conflict arising from the history that I threw hints at with the ruins around the town. And the Warden, well there’s not much DW canon to draw from on the Doctor’s place of origin, so that would just be me pulling a world of shapeshifters out of a hat and making up a bunch of stuff about it. Which sounds FUN.

12. Are there any tropes you used to dislike but have grown on you? (smut and general)

For a DW-specific general trope, I’d say I’ve never really liked fobwatch fics, and yet I find myself playing with the concept in something I’m working on currently. (Sort-of. Because it’s also an AU. And very hard to describe.)

Smut-wise, hm, that’s actually a difficult question, I tend to stay not-interested in the few things I’m not interested in… I’ll say roleplay scenarios in general might be growing on me a bit.

18. If you wrote a sequel to Star by Star, what would it involve?

Oh you got me with this one, because I have a pretty robust outline just sitting here in my google docs folder… It involves the growing conflict between the Alliance and Gallifrey, money problems, more of Theo’s secrets, and an increasingly complicated quest gallivanting across the galaxies to find Theo a new cybernetic heart.

26. Would you rather write a fic that had no dialogue or one that was only dialogue?

If I had to choose, I’d go with no dialogue, because you can pry action and description from my cold, dead hands! I think I could still get my point across writing something like that. Hmm… that one’s going into the “concepts that interest me” file…

34. What aspects of your writing are inspired by/taken from your real life?

Any time you find me waxing poetic about art or throwing art-related terms into a story, that’s because of my background in fine arts. The way plants creep into every story is mostly cause I think they’re neat, but also because of childhood summers spent building forts out of branches and my current obsession with gardening. Other weird ideas come from reading approximately 1 zillion books and mixing and matching bits and pieces of them with stuff I’m interested in!

50. Answer any question of your choice, or talk about anything you want to talk about!

I’ll answer "49. What are you currently working on? Share a few lines if you’re up for it!"

One of the many projects I've been juggling lately is an western-fantasy AU that I’m going to have a hell of a time tagging if I ever get it done. I’ll throw in a little bit to try and get the vibes across:

“I know what you are.”

Does she, now? How can that be possible?

Deep shadows under Grace’s eyes betray her exhaustion, but her gaze is pointed, dangerous. “I should have seen it last night. But the Oncoming Storm only appears under the light of the full moon. Why are you still here?”

She’s sharp; not that Yaz isn’t, but Yaz is young. Not experienced in the way Grace is.

“I don’t know,” they say. “I seem to be stuck.” 

Grace paces to the end of the porch, boots thumping against the boards. She leans on the rail and looks out over the street. “I’m sorry.” She glances back, then to the street again. Rain dampens her shirtsleeves, droplets hang in the threads of her poncho. “I think we might have tethered you here, somehow, when we summoned you.”

Thanks for the asks!

[inkperch]

Obsessed with how people in Liyue are like ‘look at how much tighter a ship we run than Mondstadt with an actually present god! Why, the Fatui have far less influence here!’ and then

A) the Fatui literally have their own standing fucking bank, while Mondstadt charges them daily for their hotel rooms-

B) The entire plot is centred around the Fatui schemes

C) Rex Lapis works exactly one day a year, and this year he’s faking his death to take that number down to zero-

D) MONDSTADT IS LITERALLY WORKING ON A SKELETON STAFF OF IT’S GOVERNMENT LMAO, THIS IS LITERALLY ‘THE BARE MINIMUM TO STOP MONDSTADT IMPLODING WHILE WE’RE GONE’, JEAN IS SINGLE HANDEDLY RUNNING HALF THE CITY, THE LIBRARIAN IS HELPING PEOPLE WITH TAXES, THE CAVALRY CAPTAIN HAS NO CAVALRY, THERE IS A SINGLE PERSON IN WHAT USED TO BE AN ENTIRE BRANCH OF THIER MILITARY AND THE BAR IS STILL ‘OH LOOK HOW MUCH TIGHTER A SHIP WE RUN THAN MONDSTADT’--