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Hello and welcome to a mulit-chapter story! basic info: Tubbo-centric, talk of contracted murder that never goes to fruition, kinda deus ex machina-y

If anyone wants to be part of a taglist for Assassinate But Nah, feel free to message me/send an ask/or mention it in reblogs.

Taglist: @sleepysnails

Ao3 link

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“Tubbo! My boy! You’re my favorite agent.”

Toby Maron pulls out a chair at a private poker table at Quacksino. “I really shouldn’t be honestly,” he says to the leader of the Jays, one of the Mafia groups in Houver.

“Of course you’re my favourite!” Schlatt says. He gestures to Quackity, who’s acting as dealer tonight, to deal this looks-younger-than-sixteen year old into the next round. “You’re a cop’s son? Those guys never get caught.”

Quackity slides Tubbo a packet of M&Ms before dealing in Tubbo, Schlatt, and his two main lackeys Slimecicle, and Ted.

Tubbo grimaces. “Right.” He opens the packet of M&Ms and separates them into the six colours, acting as the six chip types. “Why am I here?”

Slimecicle looks at his cards and slides Tubbo a folder. “Right here.”

“Thanks.” Tubbo looks at his own cards. “Ten.” He puts his cards down on the table and flicks a candy to the pot. He opens the file, he sighs heavily. “Another assassin job?”

“Oh yeah.” Schlatt grins like the two of them are in on a little secret. “That’s why I like you.” He throws in a chip. “Call.”

Tubbo skims the reference sheet in front of him. “Thomas Rough?”

“Call,” Slimecicle says.

Schlatt’s grin stays on his face. He takes a swig of beer. “What do you know about him?”

“Thomas Rough? He’s the son of Dan Rough.” Tubbo continues to skim the papers in front of him; blond hair, blue eyes, 6’3”. “Dr. Rough was a kid from the Teenage Mall District, bad place for a kid to grow up.” Tubbo thinks back to his memory of headlines and research projects. Dan made some big advancement in microbiology, I don’t know what though. He now has his own lab and a nice house in the suburbs. The Houver Mailer called him a ‘Diamond in the Rough’ in their series on him.”

“Good.”

“Call,” Ted says.

Quackity puts down the flop.

“Two hundred.” Tubbo throws in the equivalent amount of candy.

“Playing it safe are you?”

“Mhm. Shoulda said that with my ten.”

“Call.”

Tubbo continues to rattle off information. “Thomas Rough spends the first semester abroad at Oak Park Academy, a Swiss boarding school.” He glances up from the papers to Schlatt. “Nice. He comes home for Christmas break, then spends the second semester in a local public school: Granite Bay.”

“Something about balancing rich kid privileged education and being a normal kid.”

“Call.”

“I can understand that.” Tubbo eats a couple M&Ms.

“Hey! Don’t eat your chips,” Ted jokes. “Call.”

“Chips? These are chocolate.” Tubbo seems to remember that he’s talking to the top guys in the Jays and shuts up.

Quackity burns the top card and places the Turn.

Tubbo’s eyes flick up. “Add another hundred.” He flips the page. “Who’s this?”

Schlatt puts his elbows on the table and leans in. “Ranboo Alastair. Nothing special about him, but he’s Rough’s best friend during the half year he’s in the city.”

“Does he need to go as well?”

“No. You just need to befriend him while Rough it’s around.” Schlatt looks towards his men. “Call.”

“But will you dispose of him once I kill--”

“Assassinate.”

“Kill Thomas Rough? He’ll be able to point me out in a line up.”

“Ideally, he won’t know that you disposed of his best friend”

“Fold.” Slimecicle slides his cards to the burn pile.

Schlatt continues. “You know Eret?”

“Yeah. Informant on the drag scene.”

“Ranboo’s her little brother. Your mark is Thomas Rough, but befriending Ranboo will be a warning to Eret as well.”

“Killing two birds with one stone.”

“More like killing one, injuring another.”

“Fun.”

“Isn’t it! And you’re a police kid, nothing will happen to you.”

“But won’t Dr. Rough want answers to what happened to his son?”

“We’ll deal with that. You deal with Thomas Rough.”

“Call.”

The next card gets burned and the River gets flipped.

“Five hundred.” Tubbo puts the fold to the side and tried to read Schlatt, not that he wasn’t already doing that. “So I’m supposed to befriend Ranboo, hope that Thomas Rough keeps he around as a friend, then kill him?”

“Yes. Call.”

“Fold.”

Schlatt turns to Quackity. “Burn these. Flip a new five cards please.” He then gestures to Tubbo’s pile of M&Ms.

“One thousand.”

Schlatt looks at his cards once more. “Call.” He sits back in his seat. “We’ll be putting you in Public School, Granite Bay, as you mentioned. You’re junior year I think.”

“It would be,” Tubbo says wistfully.

“If you take it--”

Tubbo cuts him off, “If? I have a choice?”

“If you take it,” he looks Tubbo in the eye. “This’ll be your last job. I’ll be asking your father to overlook first degree homicide. Even his debts have limits.”

Tubbo thumbs at his cards.

Schlatt flips his. He gives Tubbo his first proper smile of the night. “Flush.”

“Blue-Eyes White Dragon,” Tubbo says. He takes great pleasure in how Schlatt is visibly thrown. “I’ll take the job, but my cover isn’t in this folder.”

Ted hands Tubbo another thin packet of paper.

“Tubbo Jacobs?”

“That’s your name for the next year. You’ll be living with Karl Jacob’s, chief editor of the Houver Mailer.”

“He works for you?”

“Yes. He’s getting redeployed on another mission next year, so once you get the job done, Tubbo Jacobs will disappear with him.” Schlatt grabs a few M&Ms from his winning pot. “And Toby Maron will be allowed to go back into public school.”

“But not Granite Bay.”

Schlatt nods and drops the candy in his mouth. “But not Granite Bay.”

Quackity taps Schlatt’s forearm.

“What is it Flatty Patty?”

“The kid wins,” he murmurs. “Hands off the pot.”

“What was that?”

“The kid wins.”

Schlatt scoffs. “The nerve of some people. Fine. Take your candy and chips. Get out of here kid.”

Tubbo puts all his papers back in the manila folder and slips it into his bag. “Yes Schlatt.”

“You have until the end of next summer to get it done.”

“Yes Schlatt.”

“Good boy. Remember. Do the job, and it’ll be your last one. Chicken out, and you’ve still got a few years ahead of you.”

“Yes Schlatt.” Tubbo picks up his chips but leaves the candy on the table. He pushes the chair back in behind him and goes to the counter to cash out his two thousand, three hundred, and thirty bucks.

 “Bye Sapnap.” Tubbo may be an unwilling assassin due to debt, and he may hate it, but he’s still polite. Tubbo walks into his house, eyes downcast. His dad, Captain Maron, is reading in the newspaper. “I’m back.”

He tosses down the paper and comes to hug his son. “How was your meeting at the Quacksino?”

“Good. Schlatt’s sending me to public school.”

“What?” Captain Maron holds his son by the shoulders. “Public school?”

“Yeah. Catch s I have another assassin job.”

Captain Maron’s face falls. “At public school?”

“Thomas Rough, he goes to Griante Bay second semester.”

“Oh.” Jordan’s expression flickers.

Tubbo doesn't have the energy to even try to decipher it.” On the bright side,” he tries, “Schlatt says that this is the last job I need to do for him. Something about debt limits and that you can’t prosecute me.”

His dad gives him a tense smile. “Did he really say that? Or are you paraphrasing for your old man?”

“That’s what he said, he was very clear about it.” Tubbo pulls away and heads to the kitchen. “But you can’t prosecute me. I don’t know what I’m going to do after though. I feel like Schlatt has been setting me up to go crawling back to him for a sense of purpose.”

Jordan looks at his son sadly. As one of the top cops, he’s seen a lot, and he’s seen that very story play out so many times before. “I’m sorry.”

“No. No. Don’t apologize. It’s grandpa’s fault for getting tied with one of the Mafia families. It’s not your fault. He’s the one who died with debt to the Jays.”

Jordan comes to hug his son again. “Get some rest. You’ll have time to brush up before the school year starts.”

“Yeah.” Tubbo grabs himself a bowl of cereal, directly opposing what his dad just suggested. “I’m a new transfer. Tubbo Jacobs. Starting tomorrow I’m going to be living with Karl Jacobs, but only until the job is over,” he reassures his father. “And Lani will still be at home. Think of it as an exchange; like I’m going to school in europe or something.”

“I just. I don’t like the idea of you living with Karl Jacobs,” Jordan admits.

“It could be worse. At least he’s got a proper office job. It’s a good cover.” Tubbo shovels a spoonful of cereal in his mouth. “Relax dad. I’ll be fine. I’ve been fine. I will keep being fine.” His gaze softens. “Besides dad, this case file tells me to befriend some kid. So I’ll get that experience.”

Jordan smiles at his boy and ruffles his hair. “Goodnight son.”

“Night dad.”

- - -

Jordan walks up the stairs and goes to the safe in his closet. He spins the lock and opens the door. He digs up an old photo album and pulls it to his lap. He flips through old polaroids of him and his two childhood friends.

He pulls the last photo out of its clear sleeve. Then flips it to the back and reads the mailing address scrawled on it.

He mutters it under his breath and puts everything back in its place.

Jordan goes to find a pen, a piece of paper, and an envelope. He writes out the address and starts to pen two letters.

Dear Philip Wright, I’ve been in some trouble with the Jays for the past six years. Sorry for not mentioning it earlier. You know me, I’m stubborn. I’m a cop. I thought I had it under control. I don’t. Most of the debt has been worked off, but if you could advise me on how to proceed. That would be great,” Yours, Jordan Maron

Dear Daniel Rough, Just got a tip that Tom is in danger. Yours, Jordan Maron p.s. sorry for never returning your requests to catch up

In Focus: The Truman Show.

Inspired by Letterboxd data that revealed it to be a lockdown favorite, editor-at-large Dominic Corry looks at the ever-evolving importance of contemporary masterpiece The Truman Show.

It has long been apparent that The Truman Show is an unnervingly prescient film. The story of a man who becomes aware that his superficially idyllic life is, in fact, a live-streamed television show has gone from being high-concept to every-day.

Thanks to the three Ps—the prevalence of mass urban surveillance, the proliferation of reality television and the pervasiveness of video in social media—the notion of cameras filming our every move is no longer a paranoid fantasy, but real life. The twist being that, for the most part, we all willingly signed up for it, and did all the filming ourselves. As Yi Jian saliently observes in his review: “Not to get all ‘we live in a society’ on Letterboxd but I know a person or two in real life that would actually give anything to trade lives with Truman, it do be like that sometimes”. It indeed do, Yi Jian.

So it’s something of a cliché at this stage to point out how we are all living in some version of the The Truman Show, and you don’t have to be a member of the royal family to feel that way. Yet, somehow, the film has become even more pertinent over the last eighteen months. And it’s a pertinence reflected in the massive uptick in viewership for the film as seen in Letterboxd activity.

During the month of February 2020, the last moment of the Before Times, The Truman Show had a modest 1,235 diary entries. That number tripled in April of that year, by which time the seriousness of the pandemic had become clear. And by July, deep in the worst of the pandemic, Truman fervor peaked, with a further 178 percent leap over April’s numbers, firmly placing it in the top 200 films watched by our members in a year of lockdown. (By the way, ‘diary entries’ mean activity where the member has added a watched date; many thousands more also marked Truman as ‘watched’ in those dark months, but didn’t specify a date.)

It’s not difficult to imagine why we might become more interested in revisiting this eminently re-visitable film. During lockdown, social media—including Letterboxd—took on a greater presence in terms of how we communicated with each other. We got used to seeing footage of faces more than actual faces. We were all the stars of our own ‘Truman Show’, and simultaneously the audience of everyone else’s ‘Truman Show’.

Christian Torres boiled it down effectively when he wrote: “Now every movie I see seems to be related to my life in quarantine. I am Truman and I want to escape.” And Sonya Sandra eloquently captured the film’s increased contemporary significance in her review: “This is a real-life daylight horror film. The best kind. Even more relevant in 2021 than ever. We are all Truman, we all want to find what is real in our fake lives filled with media, capitalism and ideology. And it’s our job to fight the storm and get to the truth of it all. Nothing is real, everything is for profit, and everyone is selfish. Go out and find what is real, because it’s definitely not here.”

With its deft, dazzling blending of the profound and the humorous, the optimistic and the cynical, it’s difficult to think of anything released since The Truman Show that comes as close as it does to being a modern-day Frank Capra movie. It’s hopeful, but has its eyes wide open. There’s a darkness in the themes of the film that is never replicated in the colors on display.

While everyone involved delivers career-best work, we must principally credit the triumvirate of talent at the center of the film: director Peter Weir, screenwriter Andrew Niccol and star Jim Carrey.

Star Jim Carrey and director Peter Weir on the set of ‘The Truman Show’ (1998).

Weir is a director who inspires much online love whenever his name is mentioned, but he isn’t really mentioned all that often. Or at least as often as he should be. The Australian filmmaker has delivered masterpieces across multiple genres, and it’s extremely sad that he hasn’t directed a movie since 2010’s not-quite-true World War II drama The Way Back, arguably one of his lesser works. That’s also, insanely, one of only two movies he’s made since Truman, the other being Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World, the wide and rabid affection for which regularly kicks up on Twitter (not to mention demand for a sequel).

Weir doesn’t do many interviews, and while this 2018 Vanity Fair article marking Truman’s twentieth anniversary has many quotes about the film’s modern relevance, Weir doesn’t offer any commentary to that effect, presumably preferring to let the work speak for itself—though in this 1998 interview he did talk about the relationship between the media, the general public and the people we become fascinated with, as a “complex situation”.

The Vanity Fair article does, however, reveal a fascinating ‘what if’ scenario relating to Christof, the god-like director of the in-movie TV show played by Ed Harris, who offers up a pile of pretentious auteur clichés: mononymous, beret, etc. (beyond the whole god thing, that is). When Dennis Hopper, originally cast in the role, wasn’t working out, Weir considered playing the role himself, which would’ve added yet another meta layer. It brings to mind how George Miller styled Immortan Joe (played by Hugh Keays-Byrne) after himself in Mad Max: Fury Road, or how Christopher Nolan’s haircut shows up in most of his films.

Ed Harris as Christof in ‘The Truman Show’ (1998).

And, at one point, it could have gone mega-meta. Weir, in the 1998 interview, talked about a “crazy idea” he had, a technical impossibility back then but easily achievable with live-streaming now. “I would have loved to have had a video camera installed in every theater the film was to be seen [in]. At one point, the projectionist would … cut to the viewers in the cinema and then back to the movie. But I thought it was best to leave that idea untested.” Imagine.

Weir also played a role in helping to shape the originally much more overtly dark screenplay into the cheerier (on the surface at least) shooting script, which is solely credited to fellow antipodean, New Zealand-born Niccol, also a producer on the film. Both men have done the majority of their work in America, but it’s tempting to credit the film’s tone-perfect sense of heightened Americana to the degree of separation offered by their foreign provenance. In any case, it’s clear that open-air mall designers were paying attention.

Niccol’s original screenplay made his name in Hollywood, and revealed a storyteller excited by big ideas. He moved into directing with the smaller-scale Gattaca, released a year prior to Truman (itself delayed to meet Carrey’s availability). Niccol’s subsequent filmography includes several legit bangers (Lord of War hive step up!), and his endearing dedication to lofty allegories in a genre setting makes him an increasingly rare breed in Hollywood.

Like Weir, he is not the greatest fan of giving interviews, but the Vanity Fair piece quotes him making an interesting point: “When you know there is a camera, there is no reality,” thereby making Truman “the only genuine reality star.”

It’s a sentiment echoed by MusicMoviesMe, who writes that “‘Truman Show’ beats all other reality shows out there like Bachelors, Survivors and Kardashians. Come on, when you know there’s a camera at your tail, there’s no reality. So yes, Truman beats all reality shows out there bar none!”

The role was perfectly suited to Jim Carrey’s affected mannerisms, and his status as one of the world’s biggest stars meant he could relate to Truman more than most people. Then, at least. Nowadays, of course, we are all Truman.

“It is always incredible to see how far The Truman Show was ahead of [its] time,” observes The Closer79. “In a world where celebs are monitored 24/7 and we are showered with unnecessary private information on the web, where talent-free wannabes become famous and where you sometimes [wonder] what kind of surreal show society you are in—Truman and his fake show life cleverly have anticipated all of this. Only Truman knew nothing of his luck and he was granted an escape from his glass prison. We don’t really have this possibility… Aren’t we all Truman? Sometimes even voluntarily…”

Austin Burke concurs: “I have always known that I really enjoyed this film, but I had no clue that it would hold up so well years later… Could this be because the strange world that he finds himself in is far more similar to our world today? Possibly, but the idea and themes are so much more relevant now compared to when this originally released.” And while DallasFrance is conscious of piling on about the film’s prescience, his review highlights how there really is no limit to the film’s meta qualities:

“Instead of writing a review about how this film predicted social media, or how we’re all Truman, or yadda yadda yadda, I’ll instead fixate on the miraculous fact that two absolute legends were cast as primary viewers of the Truman Show:

1. The old lady from The Running Man who starts betting on Ben Richards (Arnold Schwarzenegger). ‘He’s one bad motherf*cker!’

2. The villain from The Karate Kid Part II:

‘Live or die, man?!’ ‘Die!’ ‘Wrong!’ *hooooonnnkkk*

I’ve never seen either of these actors in any other roles. With the second one, I felt like I was watching a character from my childhood watch a character from his childhood come to realizations about the characters in his childhood. So actually… the movie’s really about me.”

Never change, LB membership.

We are all generally pretty aware of how ahead of its time The Truman Show was, but that doesn’t lessen its impact. Maddie’s review shows that there’s always some new angle to consider: “Imagine being an extra in this movie… You would be an extra, playing an actor, playing an extra. Think about that long enough and tell me that doesn’t make you want to walk into the ocean.”

Kev goes even further: “Watching other people watch somebody else while also watching that person while also watching the person watching over that person is a great reminder that watching is weird, and to be watched is to not own yourself. Don’t watch, don’t try to be watched. Just live.”

Or perhaps Will encapsulates the film’s ability to present an ever-evolving message best, writing that, “clearly, this is video proof that we live in a simulation.” Beyond mere prescience, The Truman Show is a telling mirror to whatever era it is viewed in. Its message will continue to evolve.

Now that we’re finally (touch wood) emerging from the pandemic, it will be fascinating to see what The Truman Show has to say about its audience and the world they live in, in years to come. Rest assured, it will be well-documented by you, the Letterboxd audience.

Also: can Peter Weir please make another movie? Like, seriously.

Related content

A Meta-Reality: Robert’s list of layers of film in life and life in film

Follow Dom on Letterboxd

The Miys, Ch. 124

Second half of the exhibition!  Mac’s performance here is based on an actual incident that occurred with one of the many actual cats that Mac is based on.

Trigger warnings for blood here.

Thanks go to @baelpenrose for his beta-reading and Arthur, @zommbiebro for Jokul, @books-and-cartoons for GK, @werewolf2578 for Michael and all the other characters you have added to this story, and @charlylimph-blog for her characters. <3 you both!

“Who is competing in the canine rounds?” Coffey asked, steering the topic smoothly. 

“Myself,” Grandma Kim gestured. “Michael and Sparkles, Derek and Machiavelli, for the service round. I believe there are a few more for the security round, but I don’t recall whom.”  From GK, that was basically saying they were so far beneath her notice that she refused to learn their names.

A chime sounded, indicating that the intermission had ended. Arthur, Coffey, and I made our way back into the stands, waving to Simon as he worked his way onto the sidelines. Ivan had initially come down ahead of me and Maverick, but was also packing the floor with the competitors for the upcoming events. As soon as we took our seats, Evania announced the next event - sure enough, it was the service and security animal exhibitions.

Rather than the participants stepping forward, Antoine took the floor after Evan. “Previously, these events were separated and considered the ‘canine’ events.  However, it has been brought to my attention, most ardently, that service and security animals are not limited to canines, even with the limited amount of animals we currently have on the Ark. As such, we are combining the service and security events, and this year there is a non-canine participant.  Due to the nature of the exhibition, I will be personally monitoring from the sidelines in case there is any need for interventions.  Also, as with in the past, please be assured that all participants in these events are volunteers and a med bay is on standby.”

Medbay is on standby? I wondered. I didn’t recall that before, but I also hadn’t paid more attention than was necessary to know how many jerky treats to give Lyric and Sparkles.

First up was our veteran, Lyric the First. The elder stateswoman of Ark companions may have hobbled onto the field, but she went through her paces as a service animal with tidy precision. On top of that, the second the ‘security’ portion started and someone brandished a weapon at GK, all concept of ‘elder’ went out the window and Lyric became 120lbs of teeth and fury, daring the faux-attacker to come within six feet of her charge.

I could feel Coffey shudder beside me, at the same time that I could see Arthur nod with approval.  I couldn’t lie - there was a part of me that remembered this same dog standing over me when Maverick first dropped by unexpectedly, and I was warmed to know that I had been so safe in that moment.

After the applause due such a respected member of the community, Lyric the First was taken off the field, and it was Lyric II’s turn to show how she lived up to the name.  Sure enough, she displayed the same precision in the service animal rounds, but it was clear that she knew this was for show in the security segment.  Rather than the degree of savagery her mother had shown, Lyric II was clearly a little confused by the fake-attack.  She still received her applause and treats, however, while GK was obviously considering how much more training was needed.

Michael and Sparkle were next, and their performance was on-par with Lyric the First. Rather than having Sparkle function as a service animal for Michael, Sam had volunteered. The moment loud noises started to upset Sam, Sparkle nudged him into a prone position and brought his ribbon over.  If someone tried to step to close, she calmly pushed them back. Due to her youth, Michael did step in for the security portion - Sparkle wasn’t trained to decide between security and support yet - and that was where she shined.  Without hesitation, she took a defensive stance at any aggression toward Michael, and really did Lyric the First proud.

And then, the fourth round happened. That was what set the crowd’s eyebrows on end, the round with non-stop chatter throughout.

On the contrary to the rounds with both Lyrics and Sparkle, there was no leash, there were no steps to walk through. Instead, the crowd saw Derek Okafor walk out, carrying a lavender blanket and pillow, with a solid mass of feline ink trailing behind him.  Rather than lead Mac through any actions, Derek set the pillow down, curled up on the floor, and covered himself with the blanket.  In an action I had witnessed on more occasions than I could count, Mac curled his impressive mass on the blanket, just outside of Derek’s elbow.  Directed audio amplified Mac’s purring so everyone could hear it, even in the furthest seats.

Suddenly, the audio in the gym played discordant noises.  Not even waiting for Derek to flinch, Mac darted under the blanket and a lump erupted where Derek’s ear had been.  After a moment, the sound cut off, and instead a bowl of food - one so strong-smelling that I could catch it from my seat - was brought out. Mac poked his nose out and started sneezing convulsively, hissing at the bowl as he moved towards it.

The coup de grace was what came next. Without warning, as soon as the bowl was taken away, someone darted towards Derek from the other side. I could actually feel my soul chuckle for this poor slob as I anticipated what would happen.

Sure enough, Mac became a blur of void and vaulted over Derek, clawing the interloper from elbow to wrist, then from thigh to knee. He hissed and spat, clawing at anything and anyone that came within reach.  Nothing could stop the ball of feline fury until Derek darted out an arm to scoop Mac back under the blanket while the poor volunteer - who looked like they had a bad date with a Cuisinart - was led to the aforementioned med bay.

“I’m not sure they knew they were signing up for this,” I murmured to Maverick and Coffey.

Coffey made a firmly negative gesture. “I assure you that they were aware. That particular volunteer? She has been Machiavelli’s training target for three months now.”

“Why?” I sputtered.

“Some people are afraid of dogs,” Coffey shrugged. Given his clear discomfort watching both Lyrics perform, it made more sense suddenly.  I knew he wasn’t afraid of dogs - he kept treats in his pocket for Lyric and Lyric II, at all times - but we weren’t far enough removed from Earth to make everyone comfortable with the kinds of dogs that worked best as service animals.

A cat, though? I knew from a lifetime of experience that nothing was as persistent or vicious as a cat, when properly motivated.

The audience was respectfully silent until Mac and Derek left the gym, before cheering wildly.  Even from where I was sitting, I could hear people talking about the potential of having a cat once the colony was established.  As a firmly devoted cat owner, I couldn’t even make up an excuse to argue.

Arthur leaned over so I could hear him clearly. “You never told me you have an attack cat.”

“I’ve always had them,” I admitted. “I just didn’t know it wasn’t a normal thing.”

“Mac is a good kitty.”

“The best kitty,” Coffey corrected with a grin. At some point, he had adopted Derek as a younger brother/nephew figure, and by extension doted on Mac to the point of chemical warfare.

“The only kitty,” I pointed out. I would have loved for the Ark to have ship cats, but we had learned - the hard way - that genetic enhancements were necessary for them to thrive in the gravity we were operating under.  It was part of the reason Mac was so large - four years ago, he had actually undergone a heart transplant so his vasculatory system would function in the increased gravity. Where Lyric II and Sparkles had benefited from what Miys learned from the original Lyric, Mac was the original.

The next event was thrown projectiles, so I took the opportunity to go grab some popcorn and sausage-rolls for the last two events. No one in my family was participating in the javelin/spear exhibition, but I knew that Xiomara and Evan would be eyeing these candidates closely for colonial security, so I made a point to pay attention. However, despite my original reason for keeping an eye on the event, I found myself fascinated. Each spear had a different range for accuracy, a different technique for throwing… I found myself filing the information away for later, anticipating a very rousing conversation with our Councillor of Security and her protege. Ivan Thorsson, to nobody’s surprise, excelled.

However, the last event of the exhibition was finally at hand - archery.  Charly had made several attempts to have this event be its own exhibition - the projectiles were not thrown, nor were they combustion - but a sheer lack of participants inevitably led to the sport being included with the ‘non combustion’ weapons exhibition, in the same way the animal companion events were.  On the plus side, participation this Von-year made a strong case for archery being its own event.

Participants were allowed ten arrows, ten targets, and fifteen minutes to fire all arrows. Bows could be any size, but had to be pulled by hand - no crossbows, no hooks to draw. Targets were only 25cm in diameter, and any shots that missed the desired target were counted off, with a double ‘friendly fire’ deduction if the arrow hit an entirely different target.

Even with all the restrictions, there were no less than twelve participants in this event, more than any other.

Maverick was first. While he was exceptionally precise, his Shinto-style did not lend itself well to speed. Next came Tyche, who landed killing hits on every shot, though with far less aplomb than her knife-throwing had shown. Arthur had a similar result - fast and deadly, but less accurate than Maverick - before MIchael Smith took the stage again, to my surprise.

My jaw hit the floor as he pulled just as fast as Tyche and Arthur, with the same accuracy of Maverick. Very few people took part in multiple exhibitions, and to see him do so well in three was a shock.  Nonetheless, he swapped out with the next participant with zero acknowledgement of his performance.

After that, the event continued: several people I did not recognize, before all that was left were Conor and Charly.  Similar to his style of throwing knives, Conor drew ambidextrously and over the shoulder. The connection was crystal clear as you watched his motion - a smooth draw, looped into a pull and release.  The only difference was that, where he would throw a knife, he would draw the arrow.

Next, I expected Charly, but what I saw made my head spin: Simon Rodriguez stepped out of a back room, with a longbow and a quiver full of arrows.  Even more incredibly, he did not stand in front of any specific target, but stood in the center of all ten.  With one deep breath, he started drawing from his waist, firing and drawing, arrow after arrow, in a smooth, mechanical motion.

Every arrow struck the center of the target.

The blood drained from my face as I realised why Tyche had threatened Conor with allowing Simon to use him for target practice…. I had no idea, at the time, that Simon was such an incredible shot. Immediately, I felt guilty.

Before I could apologize to him, Charly and her bow walked out. Speaking now felt like an obscenity, since this was the reason so many people were still here. Sure enough, as soon as the targets were replaced, she displayed a foreign calm as she fired shot after shot.

Ten shots. Ten exact centers. Ten arrowheads protruding from the back of targets by a minimum of two inches.

Twelve seconds total.

The transition between Simon and Charly took place so quickly that I had no idea who the applause was for - the Twelve Second Sorceress, or her clear protege. Either way, the end of the exhibition was explosive, to say the least.

I turned to Conor, ready to apologise for not taking the previous threat as serious at it was, when he said something that made me slap my face and groan.

“Bless it, do you think Simon will show me how to do that?”

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Tell us more about the mythology of Yokaitale, or perhaps even what specific versions of Wonderland inspired Wonderfell (like did you take anything from the 2 American McGee games at all?)

🌼 Wonderfell is a fun one. I take inspiration from way too many adaptations to list here but yes you are correct I am a huge fan of McGee’s interpretation so that does creep in. If you noticed Chesh has a hoop earring. That is definitely inspired by that version. I don’t take too much from the Disney version since... I know this is controversial but I don’t think it’s the best adaptation. It gets the usual Disney family-friendly treatment. Which is fine I still love it but if you know me I like things a little more... mature. 

I was also inspired by games like Alicemare, IB, Yume Nikki. It doesn’t make sense now in the context of the fic but it will. Wonderland has always suspended the real and the surreal and I definitely play with that concept a lot. Things are not always as they seem. 

I always felt like Undertale initially was an Alice in Wonderland variation from falling down a hole into a magic world, to a cast of colorful crazy characters, to having to sacrifice or grow in some way along the journey. It’s why I made Wonderfell because I have always seen Sans as a Cheshire archetype and not just because of the grin. It’s more like his abilities. The Cheshire cat can disappear and re-appear at will. It’s not a direct one to one but his teleportation abilities are very similar. Pap has always embodied the Mad Hatter for me especially with his fascination with puzzles instead of riddles. 

I also really wanted a more fun and colorful take on UF stuff. I am really tired of Boss always being angry or Red always being abusive... or I don’t know that characterization that made me make my own version (Underworld AU) in the first place. Or god... them being just a shit post. I know it’s nice to have those every once in a while but I always felt the missed opportunity to actually make them something other than cardboard cutouts. In my opinion, I feel like a lot of my boys have taken on a life all their own. It’s why I am using them in my original work.

Yokaifell? Well, it kind of stems from some of my favorite anime of all time, Kamisama Hajitemashita being one of them. There is just something really cool about yokai lore because I always make the joke that if you go to Japan anything can and will kill you. There are so many yokai to work off of too so that's where the inspiration comes from.

{READ MORE FOR LENGTH PURPOSES}

Mythology wise my Yokaifell lore post goes into quite a bit but the things that I have not mentioned in that is how the world works outside of the main story. 

As I continue to develop Souly Damned I have been wanted to add more and more of the things that have influenced my storytelling so they kind of cross over in ideas. The realm of yokai in this instance is a separate realm (I do know they are spirits but just bear with me). You can think of it as another dimension separate from our own but still accessible. It is possible for mortal souls to enter the spirit realm but souls are kind of the key here. 

Normally humans just walk through the gates and never end up in the realm because they don’t believe in the realm or its inhabitants. Those that can see have the realm's magic buried within them and the more they worship/believe the more that influence grows. In the majority of my work, I ascribe to the idea that the eyes are the windows into the soul so the more magic you have the more vibrant your eye color. 

Since Yokaifell is set in modern-day most humans have normal eye colors. Basically, magic = key in this lore. Now you may be wondering why my Frisk, little out of her element bean that she is, is able to run through the gate. She starts off as a normal unsuspecting human who is lost in the forest whom Ryou accidentally lures. Usually, he does that on purpose to mess with humans but in this case, he is just playing his koto and relaxing. Since the town that Frisk moves to is more in the mountains the people there are very in tune with the old ways. They even warn her not to go into the forest because of it. She just doesn’t listen since she doesn’t believe in magic or superstition. 

 The yokai in my lore can only be seen by those with magic in their soul unless they drop the veil. Obviously being a foreigner she has 0 idea what Ryou is trying to tell her when she first encounters him. That is until he imparts just a sliver of magic on her soul so that she can actually understand the language. But... uh... whoopsie. Humans with magic are rare and that makes them incredibly yummy to the yokai around the area. This creates a chain event where she ends up in the spirit realm and because of Ryou’s mistake she is able to pass through the gate like one of them would. The oni chasing them ends up smashing the gate they came through and there you are... she is stuck which you can already gather is dangerous. 

Ryou and Kuro are two yokai you don’t really want to mess with because their past history is seeped in blood. They both despise mortals for some unknown reason. One that is revealed further down in the spoiler section. How they went from practically killing mortal and yokai to laxer is also kind of a question mark. Kuro is able to quell his rage by serving the kami (in this case Asgore) while Ryou... uh... ok he doesn’t really handle it all that great. He is just a very salty boy. 

Like my lore for Souly Damned lower level of yokai can not just jump to the mortal realm whenever they want. There is a hierarchy established and fortunately, Ryou and Kuro are pretty high up there so they can interact to some degree. I have that outlined further in the lore post.

 I will say that in order to explain this I have to toss up a spoiler warning for anyone that does not want to see it. {THERE BE  SPOILERS AHEAD}

So... spoiler time but Ryou and his brother Kuro used to be humans at some point. This was centuries ago but they both died when a rival village tried to eradicate their own. Kuro being the proud warrior went off to fight, leaving his little brother to watch over the rest. Unfortunately Ryou never actually sees his brother again and yeah... it’s sad to say but he dies on the battlefield. Ever since he was a child he wanted to be a warrior. He dies fullfilling that dream.

Ryou though being younger tries to fend off the attackers but he is eventually mortally wounded and left for dead. He bleeds out as the snow starts to fall again which is why his design not only incorporates red but also the snowfall aspect, especially his human guise. 

In that time there was more magic and yokai roamed freely. The souls were far stronger and because of both Ryou and Kuro’s deeply held emotion that affects their souls eventually calling out to the Kami... they are then reborn as yokai in the process. Ryou as the mischevious Kitsune and Kuro as a gashadokuro samurai. So it’s established that humans can become yokai but it's rare as the centuries progress. It takes an incredibly strong soul coupled with some kind of deep emotion which could be anything from rage to love. 

hi new follower here and i absolutely love your blog! <3

i was wondering if you’re still talking about charts?? if so i’d be so grateful if you could do mine! thank you if so :)

hello and welcome! and im glad you love my blog!

im sorry that this took a while (and that it is super long). everything is under the read more (disclaimer: i only did the planets and their positions. im still learning about the asteroids and the degrees)

taurus sun (12 H): when taurus natives work, they work hard. they do it with a steadiness that may rarely be considered quick–rather it’s a dependable and steady effort that has its payoffs. security is immensely important to taurus. although hard-working, their comfort-loving nature sometimes makes them appear lazy. this is only because they separate work and leisure so well. when they work, they work hard, and when they play, they don’t really “play” as such…they relax. solar taureans like to own things (and sometimes people). a nice home, a piece of land (this can be modest), a paid-off car, a couple pets, maybe a solid business…in love and relationship, there is an earthy kind of possessiveness that may be considered jealousy by some, but there is actually quite a difference between being possessive and being jealous. taurus sun natives are rarely jealous and petty. they do, however, think of the people they love as theirs–it adds to their sense of security.

the sun in the twelfth house indicates a desire for perfection. these people usually do not get full recognition for their abilities and efforts, but they do not mind. they are satisfied with their simple, quiet life in solitude. if they become managers, they will do their job inconspicuously and with modesty. their services to other people are an area in which they are likely to achieve recognition and satisfaction. these people are usually interested in psychology and research of psychological phenomena. even though they may feel the need to interact with others, they often feel alienated even in the middle of a social event. it gives them the opportunity to observe, make sense of things and understand.

capricorn moon (9 H): people with this placement see safety in being useful to society and you look for justification in the outside world. they may underestimate what they want from themselves and for themselves. shyness may be accompanied by resentment of the fact that others ignore you. they shouldn't seek approval from the outside, it will not get rid of their doubt and it is harmful to them. they have to trust their inner values, otherwise, it may happen that they succumb to external pressures. the need to cope with adverse reality since childhood may give them the ability to "survive" difficult periods. their talent for business can bring them success but they may be missing some carefreeness.

the moon in the ninth house creates an understanding and imaginative mind. these people are great dreamers and thinkers who have novel ideas. their views are solid and sincere, but they change their minds easily. they have a variety of interests and hobbies; they like to lecture other people. the Moon gives these people inner self-determination, which gives them the energy to lead and direct those who lack the same degree of awareness.

gemini ascendent: very curious, very observant, and analytical. always looking to expand their social circles.  love asking questions and mingling with others. can appear as restless as gemini rising people have an air of impatience even though they do not mean it. gemini rising people often seek a certain amount of personal freedom and space. and they enjoy intellectual debates and exchanging ideas. from my personal observations, gemini rising people can either be 1. bubbly, changeable, talkative and a little quirky, or 2. quite witty and clever, cool and intellectual (presenting themselves in a less cheerful and changeable way).

taurus mercury (12 H): they may take their time to arrive at a decision, but they get there — they are actually quite decisive, even stubborn with their opinions. mercury in taurus may be slow to start a new project, but they see it through to the end. they may need to poke them to get them going, however. they have much common sense at their disposal. these people rely on their senses when it comes to processing information. smells, noises, and mood are all employed. their communication style may, at times, be slow and measured. they are quite deliberate in what they do. when it comes to learning, mercury in taurus natives prefer demonstrations, concrete answers, and basic concepts. these people learn best when they see real-world uses for the theories they’re trying to absorb. not that they wouldn’t be able to comprehend the abstract–they simply process information better when they can personalize it (what use is it to me?) and attach it to the practical world.

mercury in the twelfth house represents the subconscious mind. thinking of these people is influenced by their subconscious and past experiences. Their decisions are based on emotions instead of logical thinking. these people have a tendency to be secretive and they do not like to express their opinions, especially in the public. they lack self-confidence but they are good at hiding it. this position also suggests difficulties in learning new things and it is an obstacle to developing the potential of the person.

taurus venus (12 H): love for venus in taurus centers on the physical world and creature comforts — they revel in sensual surroundings. these people project themselves as solid and comfortable. they need a certain measure of predictability and dependability in their relationships. venus in taurus can be possessive in love, and they are threatened by fast-paced, high-energy situations in the context of relationships and love. these are sensual partners who require lots of “hands-on” expressions of love. their lovers may complain that venus in taurus can get a little too comfortable and settled. it’s true that they resist change in their relationships, but even when they seem stuck in a groove, however, they are constant partners.

venus in the twelfth house suggests secrecy and solitude. it points to the introspective aspect of character and the need to spend time alone. it creates socially withdrawn people who are a bit lonely and disappointed in their romantic relationships. they are very emotional but they can subconsciously control their emotions. this position usually creates a significant degree of compassion for oppressed people and all those who are in a bad position.

virgo mars (5 H): these people are productive, goal-oriented, practical people. although they can be a little scattered at times, simply because they are doing so many things at any give time, mars in virgo natives get things done, and quite well! they have a knack for handling a wide variety of tasks at once, and a tendency to take on perhaps too much at the same time. these natives are not particularly aggressive by nature. although they can be a little hard-nosed and critical at times, they rarely resort to pushing others around. these people are protective of their “system” of how to get things done. there is a perfectionist at the heart of all people with this position.

mars in fifth house natives are fun, romantic, active and creative. Also, courageous and always eager to take risks, they're often sure of themselves and look only to have as much fun as possible. Mars in this position suggests they love to love and pursue romantic relationships everywhere they go.

aquarius jupiter (10 H): jupiter in aquarius is most lucky when they’re allowed to break the rules. they need complete freedom to try out their creative ideas, for they often payout in the end. this placement isn’t afraid to take risks as they offer great rewards. they bring in good fortune through their inventive thought process. they are out to change the world for the better, and they reap the benefits of their humanitarian efforts.

jupiter in tenth house keeps luck on people’s side in most situations in life. it makes natives with this placement very lucky when it comes to their career. however, they can also count too much on their good fortune and end up reckless or too relaxed when the situation would require them to focus. these natives are usually very open to making new friends, self-confident, charming, and very convincing. people will love and honor them for all these traits. they give a lot of importance to social status and want to be as free as possible.

aries saturn (11 H): saturn in aries realizes there are times when even they are not ready to handle a situation with unknown consequences. it’s a struggle that causes conflict with other people, and they have a hard time controlling their temper. saturn in aries tends to look more closely at them and decide whether or not it is in their best interest to steamroll ahead. this person is not as much of a trailblazer as other planets in this sign, but that doesn’t mean they hold back all the time. the people tend to be more rational and thoughtful. this can be used to their advantage when they’re actively trying to get ahead in life. they can rely on their powers of persuasion to get their point across in a concise and effective manner to get what they want.

people born with saturn in the eleventh house in their birth chart have lots of acquaintances but no too many close friends and these are likely to be older than them. their oldest friendships will last a lifetime. they're drawn to people who are serious and have a purpose in life.

aquarius uranus (9 H): uranus in aquarius is in its own sign and it creates inventors and people who like to apply new, untested methods and procedures. they like to fight for moral values and they love freedom. they do not let their emotions and feelings to restrict them. they are open-minded and open to radical reforms. aquarius is known for its humanity, and uranus further strengthens these tendencies.

with uranus in the ninth house, these people believe in freedom of beliefs, religion, and liberty in your way of life. more than any other placement of uranus, this makes someone interested in the truth of the system. in fact, uranus revolutionizes and changes their worldview quite dramatically.

capricorn neptune (9 H): neptune in capricorn gets their drive and ambition. this helps them to come up with new ideas. for them, inspiration comes from logic, reason, and the practical uses of different theories to better society. as a conservative personality, neptune in capricorn doesn’t often get “struck” by creative thought. they develop their ideas more slowly and thoroughly, as they do everything else in their life. they would rather work on things at their own pace and in their way. they don’t like to work together with others when brainstorming. more times than not, they would rather sit by themselves in quiet reflection. they are often obsessed with status, so neptune in capricorn tends to focus on ways to increase their wealth and influence. they like power and are always thinking of new ways to acquire more.

a natal neptune in ninth house suggests a very strong faith in life. with neptune here, there is a strong connection with the divine. these people are strongly aligned with their higher self. many neptune in ninth house people are very religious.

sagittarius pluto (7 H): plutonian sagittarians are understanding and philosophical. personal transformation can occur especially through philosophical searching. pluto in this position strengthens their innate (not learned) religious consciousness and feeling. one can expect them to create a new spiritual or mystical direction, and attempts to merge existing religions and churches.

pluto in seventh house natives are connected to the concept of a good family, a close and loving atmosphere at home. relationships are especially emphasized here. after all, they want to fulfill their sense of belonging as well. if it’s affection and intense emotions that drive them, everything is good and the prospects for a long-standing relationship are blooming. this placement of pluto makes people crave deep emotions and display a sense of responsibility that is rarely seen, plus lead their lives by their own very specific values.

Sorry in advance for the potentially dumb question, but: do you suffer from psychosis/schizophrenia? I’ve seen you reblog a lot of posts about it, of course, but i was curious. Also, if its not too personal, if you do, how much does it impact your writing/the weirdness glitchiness factor?

Not a dumb question at all, you’re all good!

So this is kinda…….. not something I’ve spoken about in a great amount of detail or specifics on this blog? And talking about it directly is actually kinda weird! I wasn’t expecting this to feel weird, but it totally does! So please excuse how long this answer took me hahahahaha

So I mean YEAH psychosis is a thing that I possess, this is a thing that resides inside my brain and occasionally outside of it………. I’m not schizophrenic, I’m more in the schizotypal realm of things, which is like….. I mean, that’s a label that best encompasses my experiences and so far it’s the only label that’s been vaguely and tentatively applied to me that’s ever really made me go “oh hey yeah that would actually explain a whole fucking lot” but like. Bits of it are still kinda wonky. Mental health is wonky, I think, generally speaking…………….

I was gonna talk a bit here about my specific experiences but, like, I really had no idea where to start with those and I don’t actually know how relevant it’d be to this question aside from being vaguely tangential in terms of psychosis………… so uhhhh I’m gonna jump ahead and talk WRITING which is WAY more in my comfort zone apparently

and oh my god this was so many words, I’m so sorry in advance, I have no idea if any of this is actually like………… super interesting? But I enjoyed the opportunity to talk about it so cheers for that! I think!

(and I’m sorry if you were expecting like………… a really short sharp sweet answer, I don’t really deal in shorts or sharps or sweets, I mostly deal in, uh………. rambling)

Rest of this post, under the cut, which I hope actually works on mobile, for the sake of your dashboards - 

So this message was an adventure for me into how the questions “How does it affect your writing?” and “How does it affect the glitchiness/horror factor?” are actually two entirely separate things. I mean, they’re two separate things because I’m assuming by “glitchiness factor” you’re thinking specifically of the stuff in my recent ATDAO posts about body horror and the unreality? In which case………… let me get to that in a moment

And since this post got super long, I’m going to start with my extremely short summed-up answer, and then elaborate on it………

In terms of how it affects my writing? In lots of direct ways!

In terms of how it affects the glitchiness and horror aspects? In some weird roundabout ways! It’s not where the horror stems from, but it’s where the response to the horror stems from and where a lot of my descriptive choices stem from! It’s not the horror, but it’s kind of the lens through which I explore the horror!

AND NOW HERE WE GO………… WORDS AHOY

So in terms of how it affects my writing, generally speaking

boring straightforward answer first:

It’s something that crops up in a super literal sense, just in that I’ve got a fair few characters who are psychotic to some degree or another, and it’s something that plays into how they relate to the world and their specific character voice and how they respond to the situations they find themselves in. 

somewhat irrelevant, it’s, uhhh….. something that I feel interacts with themes in a different sort of way, too. ‘Cause a lot of times there’s, like….. stories about people going on cool magical sci-fi quests, and there’s Stories About Psychotic People, and there’s not an awful lot of overlap between the two unless it’s in the context of “and the whole magical quest was a delusion all along!” which, ew

and for fucking REAL there is so much interesting ground to cover and opportunities for different perspectives and new avenues through which themes can be explored, like, in that overlap of stories. It’s something I wish I saw a lot more of in fiction! Which is another huge driving force in, like, why I write stuff the way I do

and now slightly more interesting:

Worldbuilding! It’s definitely something that plays into worldbuilding and like…. my love of creating stories that are kinda just……. “reality but a little bit to the left” if that makes sense? 

Whether this is something like Undertow, where there’s a degree of magic woven into the fabric of the universe, where things are connected by invisible threads, where I can give opinions to objects and feelings to the weather and the streetlights, where the earth itself has a voice? Or whether it’s something like ATDAO, where reality is coming undone at the seams and the fact that everything is just a little lopsided and haywire is a Mundane Part Of Everyday Life? That’s something I find super cathartic and quite lovely to play around in! I’ve always experienced the world as Just A Little Bit To The Left, and writing was one of the first avenues I found to kinda…. channel and explore and expand on that and put my feelings of strangeness into words?

It’s kinda, like, I like being able to share that kind of vision with others in some sort of way, and not necessarily in a frightening or horrible way, y’know? 

THIS IS ABSOLUTELY NOT TO SAY that anything I write is, like, 100% a direct mirror or my own life and how I see the world lmao. A lot of my writing takes experiences and feelings and little facets of how I experience the world and works them into something that’s often more literal and concrete, or it’ll start out as My Thing and as I’m writing, it sorta blooms into something totally different. But bits of it are in there, sure, although they change shape a lot! And it’s definitely in there with a lot of the general overarching feelings and concepts! Yeah!

One other thing that kinda leads onto my next topic is, uh…… that a lot of how I interpret events and meanings in the world around me can be kind of frightening and threatening, and that’s not reeeaaaally something I want to delve into too much in my writing from a worldbuilding perspective? So generally the parts of ATDAO’s “reality but a little to the left” that start to twist into horror and unreality are things I’ve constructed specifically to serve that purpose, more so than things I’ve pulled directly from my experiences.

AND NOW IN TERMS OF GLITCHY HORROR STUFF HELL YEAH

so again I’m assuming by “glitchiness factor” that’d be all the unreality and all the body horror stuff and weird horror? Which, fuck yeah! Despite my squeamishness when it comes to horror, this is one odd little corner of ATDAO that I’m extremely fond of hahahaha

And, like, initially when I considered this question I was like…. oh, this is not something that really has any of its roots in psychosis or my experiences of mental illness. And that’s…… kiiiiiind of true? My construction of the unreality and its contents is a lot of me just me sitting at my laptop going “Hahahaha that makes me physically nauseous! That’s the worst thing I’ve ever come up with!! I’m adding it in immediately!!”

But yeah, it definitely does factor in, though! Maybe not in as interesting a way as you’d hoped? 

So first off, my experiences are something that sorta plays into my word choice and the specific way I use language in those scenes. And I’m also gonna go ahead and say that dissociation and specifically derealisation are also things I draw from pretty heavily for those kinda……. more glitchy horror-ish parts? So for me, my experiences factor more into HOW I describe the content more so than any of the horrid glitchy gory content itself. 

‘cause it’s kinda, like, a specific kind of fear, I think, it’s a little bit off-beat and weirdly-worded and disjointed and it hits your senses all wrong, it doesn’t make an awful lot of sense but it’s still extremely real. There’s a lot of weird or unsettling bullshit that goes on in the unreality that there’s no convenient Real World Descriptive Equivalent for. Like, cityscapes made entirely of soundwaves, the aforementioned body horror stuff in earlier posts, places that are a complete and total lack of Anything where there’s not even space or colour or texture or light, senses getting all tangled up into each other, something being simultaneously bigger than the sun and smaller than an ant, voices unravelling like twine? LOTS OF WEIRD, BASICALLY

There’s no nice neat right way to describe that, and if there was, it probably wouldn’t pack the punch it needs to, yeah? But I love that kinda shit, I get to pull from a bunch of really weird sensory experiences and feelings I have no real way to articulate and I get to use language in creative ways to evoke the same feelings, the same experiences, the same sense of fear and wrongness? I get to draw from weird shit to describe a bunch of weird shit that makes NO fucking sense whatsoever and that can’t realistically be tied up with words

Point is, they’re experiences I draw from in order to Get Real Fuckin Weird With Words

and getting weird with words in this specific way is CATHARTIC as FUCK dude it’s so good, it’s one of my favourite things. This is, like, the dark edgy version of what I talked about earlier in regards to worldbuilding and me painting a nice odd vision for people to share in hahahaha

“let me take you on a nice gentle stroll through my imagination” vs me supplexing you to the ground and beating the shit out of you with a bat 

And one other thing is just……. I’m sorry, I’m super tired, this bit is probably gonna be jumbled and wordy and maybe not super relevant but uhhhhhhh

So the unreality is not something I initially drew from any particular place in my psyche, but it IS something I’ve come to construct in a specific way, and a lot of it is something I build with the questions of like…… “How does a psychotic character respond to this input?” and “What does this scenery draw out in my character and how does it challenge them?” in mind, so I guess………… in that sense, there’s definitely still a fairly big impact? But kind of in a sideways way. The unreality is not so much based on psychosis, but it’s something I use to highlight specific elements of it, I guess, but mostly in terms of the skills it draws out

‘cause like. in ATDAO the only characters who kinda get to butt heads with the unreality aside from that one random dead car driver who may or may not be vaguely half alive in a state of horrific limbo are Jacob and Tris, and like

I don’t ever really frame Tris’s psychosis as some horrible terrible thing he’s burdened with that makes life a terrible living hell 24/7 but it is, like………. something he struggles a lot with over the course of the story, both in general terms and in terms of people not taking him seriously about the Extremely Real Fantastical Nonsense that’s going on and in general being hesitant to trust his perceptions of reality. And ALSO I guess in terms of just…….. the way he relates to the fact that he’s been dragged into some Extremely Real Fantastical Nonsense? And him wrestling with how he’s supposed to believe in something like that when no one else can see the evidence and everyone is telling him he’s just crazy, and how “ridiculous interdimensional dumbass sci-fi quest” is something that’s reserved for other people, because he’s already been there like four times already and it has extremely different implications for him

In terms of mental illness, all my protags have patches of the story where they make it through kinda “in spite” of their struggles with mental illness (though that’s a sentence I fuckin hate) and other patches where mental illness is just a thing they deal with alongside whatever plots they have going on…… but their experiences with mental illness are also something that gives them specific skills and perspectives and ways of understanding the world that are invaluable, and some of the most important parts of the story are the parts where they make it through specifically BECAUSE of those skills and perspectives

Which is kind of the Whole Thing With The Unreality, that’s its whole deal

The unreality is a fucking huge turning point for Tris as a character, because it’s specifically because of his experiences with psychosis that he’s able to navigate it so effectively, it’s because of the specific skills he’s developed and the practice he’s had in similar circumstances

not, like, the SAME circumstances, but things from other contexts that kind of, transfer, circumstances where the same skills are applicable

‘cause like, turns out, he’s really good at navigating confusing frightening hellscapes where nothing makes sense and mis-stepping can get you killed, because he’s had a whole lot of practice just like. existing as a person with psychosis in a weird apocalypse world where reality is collapsing in unpredictable ways. He spends a lot of his life trying to make sense of reality and figure out the rules and developing countless systems for navigating the world safely, which he often needs to adjust at a moment’s notice, or completely scrap and reconstruct. He’s had a lot of experience of just sorta waking up and whatever bullshit is going on he’s just gotta be like “ok cool so this is what we’re doing today, I have to deal with this, so how can I deal with this”. He’s used to grounding himself and problem-solving even under intense pressure and when he’s terrified and regardless of whatever objectively horrifying nonsense is happening around him. He’s used to sorting the horrifying things that are not dangerous from the horrifying things that are extremely dangerous.  

He’s basically the one character who can get tossed into the unreality and actually work with it and figure out the rules even though everything is screaming and glitched out and trying to kill him, he’s spent most of his life developing the perfect skill set for it

(and like, this is the first point in the story where he sorta realises that his specific way of viewing the world is going to be a strength rather than a weakness, but like. despite the fact that Tris is basically a walking panic attack he’s actually always been the one of the team who’s been the most adept at navigating daily life with the apocalypse, it’s just not something he’s ever really picked up on)

and uh

that’s kind of a vaguely irrelevant note to end on, actually

HEY THAT WAS SO MANY WORDS I’M SO FUCKING SORRY

I DON’T EVEN HAVE A NEAT WRAP UP TO THIS POST

MY WRAP UP WAS THAT SUMMARY AT THE START

IF YOU READ THIS FAR I HOPE IT WAS AT LEAST SOMEWHAT INTERESTING

I Will Fight This War For You (Hold On), Ch. 2

Pairing:  Connor x  Female Reader

Words:  5442

Chapter Warning:  Fluff, Jealous Connor, Worried Connor, Serious Tones

Story Summary: “Our choices define us. Don’t let them tear you in two.”

Your investigation into the string of deaths of both humans and androids takes a drastic turn when a victim is purposely left alive. The killer’s intent is the same, to prove a point you have yet to figure out. The change, however, is the power of choice.

Stress and exhaustion lead you astray as you and Connor are both thrust into a war between the mind and the heart. You can only hope everyone involved makes it out alive.

IMPORTANT A/N:   This is a repost from my previous blog of a DBH fic I started over a year ago in response to a challenge a friend of mine posted up, at the time. I’ve also gone through and edited/cleaned up each chapter for a better reading experience! I’ll be posting a chapter or two every day until I’ve posted all current chapters, and then I’ll be updating with a brand new chapter for the first time in nearly a year!

Inspired by the song Torn In Two by Breaking Benjamin.

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Chapter 2 - A Tide of War and Broken Dreams

The park was lovely during the early evening hours, the sun barely on its ending trek toward the horizon, ready to cast the baby blue sky in brilliant colors. Rays of sunlight bounced off patches of undisturbed snow in such a way that it twinkled gently as you swayed on your feet, shivering ever so slightly.

The cold was embracing, honestly, and it had you feeling lively despite your current exhaustion. You had even taken a handful of snow earlier and pressed it to your face, the shock of the action waking you like nothing else.

Connor, however, had been unamused by your jittery antics and continued to be a worry-wart as you shrugged off another shiver. Between him and Hank, it was a wonder you hadn’t developed an ulcer on their behalf.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather stay in the car until they arrive? The temperature is twenty-four degrees and will continue dropping-”

“I’m fine, Connor,” you assured for the third time since coming to a stop at the park bridge, huffing out a laugh at his worried expression.

He'd begun fussing over you when you had woken up from a brief nap after last night's shift and had continued to do so nearly all day, much to your amused chagrin.

As expected, you had helped Hank with his paperwork and finished a few files of your own before heading home sometime around three that morning. Once back at your cozy abode, you'd taken to reviewing the interrogation video regarding Anthony. You sat for hours trying to pick apart what he had said, using the small nuances of his voice as well as his movements to help you better understand what he was trying to tell you right before he left the room.

“Our choices define us. Don’t let them tear you in two.”

Sleep had been hard to come by during the past few weeks, but after last night’s turn in the case, you were lucky your body allowed you a brief two hours of uninterrupted sleep over your at-home desk before you were back into the case files with restless energy. The crick in your neck hadn’t been pleasant, though Connor had done an excellent job at massaging out most of the pain, despite his initial plan to most likely put you back to sleep with the soothing pressure.

“I believe it would be best to seek someplace warmer,” Connor urged, his words coming out in a rush, almost as if he were trying to hold back from saying anything more. “You’ve been stressed lately, which has drastically compromised your immune system's ability to-"

“Connor, sweetheart, I'm fine,” you insisted with a groan, effectively cutting off his rambling by turning toward him and giving an exasperated smile. “Look, I’m all bundled up in my big coat, and a scarf, and I’ve got a nice, hot cup of honey lemon tea warming my hands, since you so vehemently urged me to lay off the coffee.”

You emphasized your words by holding up the paper container from the coffee shop you had stopped at before setting out to the park, giving the half-empty container a little shake. Connor looked sheepish, but still had the audacity to sigh heavily, the action completely unnecessary and only meant to showcase his slight frustration through action. You rolled your eyes at the theatrics, but smiled all the same.

“If it makes you feel any better, we’ll be in a nice, warm space as soon as we meet up with the others,” you placated, moving closer to place your head against his chest while wrapping your free arm around his back.

Connor returned your embrace rather quickly by pulling you even closer, snugly fitting you against him. He was warm and comforting through the thick layers of clothing separating you, and you realized a moment too late that he had planned your snuggles from the start, knowing you would want to comfort him after he became huffy over your own exasperation, and had purposely increased his core body temperature to warm you.

Having an analytical boyfriend who learned your every quirk had its ups and downs. In that moment, it had to be somewhere in the middle, seeing that you were both irked and endeared by the thought behind such a clever play of events.

“You are insufferable, sometimes,” you groaned, leaning into him more heavily. Connor only chuckled, knowing he had been caught.

“I think you enjoy it,” he said.

“Oh, no, you caught me,” you mumbled against his coat in a mock surprised tone, earning you a quick peck to the top of your head and, undoubtedly, a gentle smile.

Time seemed to slow as you relaxed fully into Connor's embrace, the warmth of his hug and the slow, smooth motion of his hand rubbing at your back lulling you with its comfort. Your eyes had slipped closed without your knowledge within seconds, and the cup of tea in your hand would have surely fallen, had your arm not been curled just so between you and Connor.

For a minute, you were blissfully falling into a fitting sleep against your clever boyfriend.

“Look at you two lovebirds!”

Startled, you pulled away from Connor and turned quickly, nearly dropping your tea with the sudden movement. Connor placed a steadying hand between your shoulders as your eyes focused fully on the small group approaching, a grin spreading across your face.

Simon was ahead of the pack, his bright blue gaze joyful as he rushed forward and pulled you into a hug. From over his shoulder, you could see North grinning at you, with Josh and Markus just slightly behind, talking to themselves as they approached.

The joyous laughter that escaped you couldn’t be stopped.

“Simon! It's so good to see you,” you exclaimed, pulling away to better look at him. He had a wide smile set in place, eyes crinkling at the corners as he looked over your features with extreme fondness.

You could remember a time when he had been leery of you, as had North, and yet here they were, almost more eager to greet you as you were them.

Connor had introduced you to Markus, who then introduced you to everyone else, shortly after the revolution, and though it was a bit of a rocky start, you couldn’t dream of a better group of individuals to call your friends.

Simon had been on the cautious side, afraid to trust, and you couldn’t blame him. Now, he was perhaps your closest friend, always smiling openly and sharing his thoughts with you without hesitation, and it warmed your heart to know that he trusted you so deeply.

“I’m happy to see you, too. It's been a while, hasn’t it?”

“Couple months, at the most,” you replied, “but who's counting?”

Simon gave a short chuckle, his hand sliding to your free one and giving it a gentle squeeze. You returned the gesture, watching his smile widen with the action. For a moment, he seemed content to just stand there, holding your hand without a care in the world.

He startled when North appeared beside him suddenly, placing a hand to his shoulder to gain his attention. She eyed him in amusement as he looked a bit flustered, his gaze darting back to you and briefly over your shoulder.

He stepped aside quickly, smiling to you once more, albeit a bit more forced, allowing North to move in and wrap you up in her arms. You returned the embrace without much more thought on the strange interaction, humming pleasantly.

She had been the hardest of the group to befriend, at first not wanting to even so much as be in the same room as you. With Markus' gentle persistence in properly getting to know you, however, North came to learn that you could be trusted, that you held no malice for android kind and only ever wanted to help and aid in their cause.

From there, a tentative friendship formed, and it grew with each passing day.

“Missed you guys so much,” you mumbled against her shoulder before pulling away with a huff of breath. She smiled genuinely at you, in turn.

“Can't believe we've been gone for so long,” she said, pulling away with a groan. “You wouldn’t believe the shit we’ve had to sit through. Feels good to be back home for a little while.”

“Remind us never to go so long without seeing that smiling face of yours, again,” Josh intervened teasingly, swooping in for a hug of his own and a peck to your cheek, his attention turning immediately to Connor afterward to continue his greetings.

You grinned at the affectionate attention, recalling how easily Josh had taken to getting to know you. He always saw the good in others and believed in giving people the benefit of the doubt, which led to many a friendly conversation between you both. It was only natural that you would grow closer in such a short time, and the easy way he acted with you was proof enough.

You finally turned to face the last of the group who stood before you, patiently awaiting his moment for pleasantries.

“Markus,” you called out warmly, watching his smile widen at your greeting. A gloved hand immediately came out before him, expecting a handshake, though your pause had him chuckling. You quirked your brow at him, amused, and watched as he changed tactics and held out both arms to you. You rushed forward and embraced him as you did the others, humming delightedly against his shoulder.

“No handshakes, only hugs,” you mumbled, pulling away to give Markus a good once-over. He was dressed warmly in a long coat, gloves made of soft leather, and though you knew that androids couldn’t quite feel the cold as humans could, the look was cozy and appealing.

Goodness, but you had missed him.

“Business meetings have already trained me to greet with a handshake,” Markus said by way of explanation. “You know I meant nothing by it.”

“Of course,” you grinned, unable to keep your giddy happiness at bay. “God, I’m so glad you’re back.”

“As am I. I've missed you, just as much as the others have,” he said, hands coming up to cup your cheeks. His smile dropped then, expression a bit curious as his eyes roved over your features. “How have you been?”

“Alright,” you answered with a sigh, reaching up to pat at one of his hands to lessen any worries he might have had.

Markus was always very good at picking up on things, and it didn’t help that your exhaustion was probably more obvious than you wanted to admit

“This case has been an utter nightmare. Haven’t been sleeping as well as I could, but go figure, right?”

Markus hummed at your answer, eyes roving over your features curiously. He had always been like that as long as you’d known him, curious and eager to learn, always wanting to be better, do better, in hopes of being half the man his father figure had set him out to be.

You knew, without a doubt, Carl would have been so proud of everything he had done and what he would continue to accomplish.

“Perhaps you'll rest easier tonight,” Markus said softly, hands leaving your cheeks. You hadn’t realized how warm the leather had been against your cold skin, almost instantly missing the touch.

You watched as Markus' gaze moved and lingered behind you, his expression becoming a bit more serious. You turned to the side, finding that Connor was approaching with an equally serious look upon his face. He gave a short nod after a lingering silence.

“Hello, Markus.”

“Connor. You look well,” Markus replied, earning a small lilt of a smile. Connor then reached forward and clasped arms with Markus, a mutual greeting they had with each other, before pulling away with a more genuine grin. Any perceivable tension all but vanished between them, leaving behind a much friendlier atmosphere.

“How have negotiations been?” Connor asked.

“As well as can be expected. Our rights are within our grasp, though lacking several signatures to finalize the documents. A permanent Bill will be enacted by the end of this week, and a list of laws, including any unjust action toward androids, will follow soon after its signing.”

“Good to know,” Connor commented. “I know how difficult it must have been, but the laws couldn’t have come at a more appropriate time.”

“So I've heard,” Markus replied, eyes growing hard. “You mentioned things were suddenly more complicated with your investigation.”

“Moreso than we initially thought, unfortunately.”

“Alright, then. Perhaps we should continue this discussion somewhere more private, and preferably much warmer for you?”

Markus' gaze fell to you at his query, and you immediately perked at the notion.

“That sounds fantastic, actually,” you answered, pausing at the affronted look Connor gave you. “What?”

“At least you take someone's advice,” he said, his tone playful despite the disbelieving face he was pulling. You rolled your eyes yet again, reaching for Connor and linking your arm with his. Behind you, Josh was making some sort of comment, most likely one at your expense, before being effectively cut off by a jab of Simon's elbow into his side.

“There's a public library nearby,” Markus spoke up. “We can talk there.”

---

The upper section of the library had its own lounge area, the perfect, quiet place to discuss things with your company without others interfering. It helped that the staff was very cooperative, ensuring that the upper floor remained off-limits until you were all ready to leave.

The group took to their own areas of comfort; Markus and Connor stood across from the lounge you, North, and Simon sat upon, while Josh leaned against the back of a chair to your left. You had even taken off your coat and scarf, placing them within the empty chair at your right.

Everyone was focused as you and Connor relayed information pertaining to your current investigation, vital info they were privy to only because of the person of interest and the victims involved in the cases.

“So the suspect is an android,” Markus stated, having processed the majority of what you and Connor had explained. “You're sure of this?”

“Anthony seemed genuine when describing his attacker,” you responded in affirmation. “We had previously profiled him as human, but Anthony was very clear to establish the suspect was an android."

“This is very unprecedented,” Markus murmured, brows furrowing in confusion. “It would make more sense if your suspect was human, but an android attacking other androids in such a manner…I can’t deny there have been a few problems with our transition into society, but nothing this extreme.”

“Problems? Have there been android-on-android attacks?” you questioned, shocked.

Surely the DPD would have picked up on some of the crimes, and even if you hadn’t been assigned to them, surely there would have been talk about androids going at each other, especially among the more intolerant officers.

“Nothing that led to any physical violence,” North spoke up from beside you, which affirmed your lack of knowledge on the matter. “Just verbal attacks on differing opinions, some minor backlash between those wanting to lash out at humans and those understanding that it will take time and careful effort to normalize our lives.”

You supposed it made sense. Not all androids would be up for a peaceful resolution, especially after the way a good majority of them had been treated by those humans they were made to obey. North, especially, had once been on track with violence, as she had believed there was no other way to reason with humans. Still, most seemed to side with Markus and the careful, civil approach he was taking to ensure all androids had all the rights of a human being.

“Ever since our peaceful victory,” Markus continued, “we’ve maintained a close network between many of our people to ensure safety. We all have a common goal, and we have, thus far, continued on the path of civility so that we may all live amongst each other comfortably in the foreseeable future."

“Well, someone obviously didn’t get the memo,” you deadpanned, throwing back the last of your lukewarm tea before tossing the paper cup into a nearby trashcan with a mild grimace.

“Hold on, wouldn’t we have heard something from one of our informants?” Josh questioned in disbelief. “I mean, it feels like someone would have noticed something off, especially to this magnitude.”

“Not necessarily,” Connor answered. “If we believe our suspect to be an android, it's highly possible he's someone within our circle. He would be harder to detect when under the trust of the very man who led the revolution, and it would be much easier to keep a low profile.”

“Is it possible that there’s more than one person behind everything?” Simon asked, throwing out an idea.

“Unlikely,” Connor shut down quickly. “No previous evidence hints at more than one suspect, and with Anthony's testimony taken into account, there is nothing else to suggest multiple offenders.”

Ideas and concerns continued to bounce around the group, valid points being brought up only to get squashed by conflicting evidence to the contrary. It was a confusing mess, just as it had been from the start, and it felt like the case was, once again, coming to a dead end.

You sighed through your nose, closing your eyes as you tried to piece together what you already knew in the vain hope of figuring out something that would help.

The suspect was currently being considered an android that was kidnapping both humans and androids. From the first two cases, there were two victims each, where the victims knew each other in some manner. The third case added an extra victim, human, but the setup was the same: one victim was tortured with small injections of blue blood while the others were made to watch.

The motive was still unclear, but to you, it felt like the suspect was sending a message. The first two cases might have been just practice rounds, and the third was possibly the suspect adjusting the variables, perfecting his method by adding something the other two cases didn’t have.

“A choice,” you whispered, eyes opening in mild confusion. Anthony's parting words to you began to play in your head yet again with the small revelation.

“Our choices define us. Don’t let them tear you in two.”

“Hey, are you alright?”

You turned at the sound of your name and the gentle touch of a hand upon your knee, finding Simon looking at you in worry. You hadn’t realized you were being so quiet and pensive as everyone else dove into the discussion. Even now, North was bringing up some sort of misunderstanding between an android and human she had overheard, the topic clearly having redirected itself in some way, as both Josh and Markus corrected some of her exaggerated details.

“Yeah…yeah, I'm good,” you answered quietly, not wanting to interrupt the others.

Simon's light grip on your knee tightened, a gentle prodding for you to talk to him. You sighed again, smile weary as you placed your hand over his and took hold of his fingers. Your friends sure were good at figuring you out, and Simon...you could tell Simon anything.

“I'm exhausted,” you murmured sincerely, reaching up with your free hand and rubbing at your dry, aching eyes. “This whole investigation has me so anxious to solve it. I can’t sleep, not for very long, at least, without the details running circles in my head. I'm constantly queasy, and my head aches, but I just want to catch this guy before more people get hurt.”

Simon gave a small hum of sympathy, his hand twisting in yours until he was able to smooth his thumb along your knuckles. The motion was grounding, calming, something he had taken to doing during times you were in distress. The action never failed to ease your racing thoughts.

“It must be hard to have all these details on your conscience,” he said, “but you need rest. It's not safe to be so tired, especially in your line of work.”

“I know,” you admitted, words grumbling in your frustration. “I just…I wish I could piece all this stuff together and figure out why this guy is doing this. Everything’s just a big mess right now in my head.”

“Maybe you could try bouncing ideas off me? I know we’ve technically been doing that already with everyone else, but…maybe it would help having just one person to talk to, instead of five talking over you.”

You looked up at Simon, his gaze still showing concern, but just as equally, there was an eagerness there to help in anyway he could. Smiling, you leaned toward him and bumped your shoulders together in a friendly manner.

“Yeah, okay. Can’t hurt to try, I guess.”

Simon smiled gently, fingers squeezing yours before his thumb continued the slow, methodical movement across your knuckles once more.

“Okay, tell me all the details again.”

---

Across the way, Connor watched you. His eyes roamed over the scene before him as if he was looking over evidence for analysis. He lingered on your hand clasped in Simon's own, how he touched your skin with gentle, unending strokes. You were speaking quietly with him, leaned in close, body relaxed and comfortable within the other's presence.

He realized quickly that what he felt at that moment was jealousy. Connor knew that, when it came to Simon in particular, he felt jealous because of your easy relationship with the other android. He hated that he could feel such a way over someone you both considered a friend, but it was there, an ugly beast of an emotion that clawed at him from deep within, stuttering his thirium pump and twisting his inner mechanisms with vicious intent.

Connor had only felt such a way a handful of times, flashes of heated envy over something that was so trivial in every sense of the word. Honestly, it seemed petty to be jealous over a friendship that brought you ease, a friendship that you had truly felt most comfortable in.

But he could not help the way his emotions were swayed when it came to you.

He didn’t like the way Simon sent almost longing gazes in your direction, as if hoping you would notice his stare as more than friendly. He didn’t like that Simon touched you so freely, and you did nothing to deter him. He especially didn’t like how close the other android was to you at that moment, talking with you in a way that seemed much too intimate, a sight that sent his inner processors whirring with a deep seated feeling. Frustration? Maybe anger?

The L.E.D. at his temple was blipping a constant red as his mind reeled into dangerous territory.

Stop.

Simon needed to stop. He needed to stop right now-

“How long has it been, Connor? Seven months?”

Connor blinked once, twice, the clench of his jaw releasing as he registered Markus' voice from beside him. He was asking a question, a question he was easily able to pick up on.

He blinked a third time, tilting his head ever-so-slightly, though keeping his eyes on you. The red at his temple flickered to yellow, retaining the color for the time being.

“Almost eight,” he answered, voice sounding a bit rougher, the barest hint of interference stuttering his words.

He hadn’t realized how absolutely wrecked he was becoming until his thoughts were interrupted. Seething sounded adequate, but he didn’t believe he was that angry…didn’t want to admit it.

“Eight months,” Markus repeated quietly, his echoed words sounding reverently amazed in the best way. “It doesn’t seem like it's been that long, does it? Then again, it feels like forever, being with the right person.”

Markus turned to look at Connor, mismatched eyes narrowing in a serious manner as his brow furrowed.

“You’re lucky to have each other in this time of change. It's easy to see how much you care for her, how much she cares for you. As long as that feeling is there, nothing will tear you apart, not even what your eyes assume is there right before you.”

“I…”

Connor hesitated, his own brow furrowing, doubting. His gaze on you faltered, eyes closing momentarily with self-doubt. He grimaced.

“Have you told her, yet?”

Connor's eyes opened once more, his head slowly turning toward Markus. For a brief moment, Connor’s façade crumbled away, his brief expression conveying the underlying issue behind everything he was feeling. Markus' own eyes widened a fraction, understanding what Connor was saying without speaking a word.

“You're afraid.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Connor harked defensively, looking away from Markus and hiding behind another spark of what he would call anger and definitely not embarrassment. He felt stupid for letting such emotions get the best of him, for letting such things as self-doubt and jealousy completely ravage his systems and lead his thoughts down dangerous paths of action he did not want to take.

Breaking Simon's fingers was not only uncouth and absolutely not a good thing, but it would also upset you greatly. Connor would be upsetting himself if he so much as humored the sudden, brash thought longer than the blip of a second it took to think it, and yet it was still a thought he had come to.

What was wrong with him? Was jealousy always such a potent feeling?

“Simon is a good friend,” Markus went on, ignoring Connor's outburst in favor of continuing his talk with Connor.

“I know that,” Connor conceded.

“Then you must also be aware that she and Simon have a special bond in their friendship, one that was earned mutually through trust and understanding. The best of friends, those two. They can tell each other anything without fear of judgement or worry that their secrets will be spread.”

“I'm…aware.”

“And it scares you to know she can be so free and open with someone else, can rely so heavily on someone else. Your fear holds you back, doesn’t it?”

“I…I don’t want it to,” Connor admitted softly, his voice sounding small as the root of the issue was carefully prodded and plied open by Markus' doing. He looked to you again, watching your tired expression light up at something Simon had said.

He felt helpless when there was nothing to feel helpless about. You were with him, happy with him; at least, he believed you were. You hadn’t expressed anything contrary to that belief, nothing that outwardly expressed any dissatisfaction within your relationship or a want for something he could not readily provide.

Then why was he so…so scared to lose you?

“Simon is infatuated with her,” Connor muttered, the words almost leaving a bitter taste on his tongue, an odd sensation he would have to dissect later. “He shows all the signs of interest. They would…work well together.”

“In another life, maybe so,” Markus agreed, not dissuading Connor's observation. “But she chose you, Connor. She sees something in you that no one else has. She adores you; Simon knows that. He would never hurt either of you in that way. Just like you and me, he only wants what is best for her.”

“I know,” Connor repeated quietly, and Markus smiled.

Markus was worried for a moment, but talking Connor through his feelings seemed to help the detective. He wasn’t nearly as tense as before, and though Markus could tell his friend was still suffering through a combination of emotions, he had peace of mind knowing he had helped Connor better understand the situation presented to him. Even his L.E.D. was flickering between yellow and blue, his thoughts still muddled, but calming quickly.

“You should tell her,” Markus spoke, clasping a hand to Connor's shoulder with the suggestion. He met Connor's gaze, smile quirking the corner of his lips at the hesitant nod his friend gave him.

Markus pulled away just as North took notice that something was amiss, though he gave a slow, single nod to assure her all was well. She looked relieved, though as her eyes looked behind him to Connor, she frowned in confusion.

“Connor?”

---

You looked up from Simon as North called out to your boyfriend, eyes looking to her, then Connor, who was blinking rapidly as his temple held a steady stream of yellow. You recognized the action as an incoming call and jumped up immediately, moving toward him with an anxious flutter in your gut.

Just as you reached him, he regained focus, deep brown eyes looking to you in surprise as he called out your name quietly.

“What do we got?” you asked, watching his face contort into mild concern before smoothing out into a neutral expression. Vaguely, you felt as if you missed something, but you ignored the feeling in favor of Connor's following words.

“Another murder, same set-up as last time, though the officers on-call are only confirming one dead, and nothing more.”

“Shit,” you muttered disdainfully, looking to Markus and the group with an apologetic expression.

“We understand,” Markus spoke calmly, “I'm sorry we couldn’t be of more help to the investigation.”

“Just being able to talk to you guys was enough for me,” you said, pulling him into a hug he was all too prepared to reciprocate. You moved around the room and did the same with the others, aware of Markus and Connor talking behind you.

“Please, keep us updated on the investigation. If there's anything more we can do to help, anything, you know how to reach me.”

“Of course, Markus.”

You pulled away from your final embrace with Simon, turning toward Connor and pausing. He looked hesitant, almost troubled, his brows furrowed and the slightest frown against his lips. You noticed the flicker at his temple, noting the color was still yellow, cautious and inquisitive.

“Connor, what's wrong?”

His eyes instantly snapped to you, the L.E.D. flickering once more before becoming a steady blue. His expression relaxed somewhat as he reached for your hand, your fingers intertwining with his without hesitation.

“Nothing, sorry. We should get going.”

You nodded carefully, confused by his suddenly odd demeanor. Again, the feeling of having missed something was rearing in the back of your mind, but there were more pressing matters at stake. If Connor didn’t want to talk about it now, that was fine. You knew he would eventually come to you for whatever was troubling him.

You gave his hand a gentle squeeze as you pulled away briefly to grab your coat and scarf, bundling up cozily and taking his hand once more. You tugged gently as you started up a quick pace toward the stairs, giving Markus and the others a final wave as you made your exit.

“Connor, wait!”

Connor stopped abruptly at the exclamation, forcing you to come to a halt in front of him. You both turned to find Simon had rounded the lounge, seeming surprised by his own outburst. He looked almost indecisive about continuing his train of thought, eyes closing as he took a steadying breath.

“Please…make sure she gets some sort of sleep later. You and I both know how stubborn she can be, but I figured, maybe, you could be just a bit more stubborn, this time.”

The room was quiet. Connor and Simon stared at each other, and though you couldn’t see Connor's expression, the interaction made you nervous in a way you couldn’t explain. Then, Connor gave a small sigh, the action alone breaking the strange, heavy tension with ease.

“I will.”

Simon smiled at the promise, and you were sure it was a promise, unspoken but there. It was Connor's turn to lead you away, as you remained momentarily frozen in your place, unsure of what exactly had just transpired before you.

“What are you guys up to, huh? Doing some sort of secret-android-mind-reading? Conspiring against me?”

Connor chuckled, actually chuckled at your faux put-upon questions, turning to look at you with a smile as soon as you both made it down the stairs. It was a complete 180 turn from his previous mood, and it had you nearly reeling at the change.

“Nothing you need to worry about,” he answered, and you believed him.

For whatever crazy reason, that last-second exchange had put him at ease. You would have to thank Simon next time you had the chance to talk to him.

This is a One shot about episode 15x04 "Saturday" with some inside of Spencer's past with some women he met.

Hope you like it.

Disclaimer: I don't own the show Criminal Minds or its characters, I just use them to imagine I'm a writer.

Paring: Spencer Reid/ Maxine 'Max' Brenner.

A New Hope

Spencer Reid had always been to busy with the reading, his work or getting more knowledge, he never looked for girls to hang out like Derek.

Of course he liked to check girls out but he was more subtle.

His first kiss was with a girl he had to protect, Lila, she was beautiful but he could not imagine him dating her, she was his job.

He never looked for an open relationship, until he met JJ fifteen year ago, she woke up that part of him that was sleeping for twenty-four years. His desire to feel loved by a woman. The problem was she did not let him past the friend zone and he gave up.

Years passed by and he met a woman who was willing to fall in love with him, Maeve, an intelligent woman who shared his love for science, poetry and literature. A match made in heaven. But there was a problem, she had a stalker, at first they thought this was an ex boyfriend but it ended up being a woman who was jealous of her success and anger because she rejected her thesis.

Diane killed herself and Maeve with the same bullet in front of him. He was losing faith in finding someone to love. He has a busy life and never had time for going out with girls.

Later he went to prison, where he realized how important was freedom and he discovered his own darkness.

When his team got him out of prison his empathy level were higher and it made him an even better profiler.

But his time in prison was all Catherine Adams' fault. She had a partner that gave him drugs and made him look like he killed the doctor he had to meet with. Her plan was to make him realized his dark side. She had success but also made him realize he will not fall in there anymore.

He even added a second gun wrapped around his ankle.

However when he thought he found peace and everything was normal again. There was a case where the unsub liked to play Truth or Dare with his victims, making them kill someone or he will kill there loved ones.

He and JJ were his hostages along with a judge and the cashier of the store they were in.

JJ took the judge's place and played when him. He asked her to tell him her deepest secret. She looked at him and dropped the bomb.

"I had always loved you" JJ says with tears in her eyes. He could not tell if it was because the tension of their situation or because she was ashamed of her confession.

This made him very confused. He always found her beautiful and had a crush on her but he gave up when they all discovered she was dating Will. JJ was his platonic love and bestfriend. He never thought she might feel the same.

When she confessed her love for him, it was a confirmation that every look, every worried moment, every hug, every tear were not because they were just friends.

Everything was uncomfortable between them since then. They found each other to look at the other when the other was distracted or were clumsy around the other. Emily sent them to investigate crime scenes together or check on dead bodies and you could feel the tension between them.

When Everett Lynch's daughter shot her and he discovered her some minutes after that, she had lost a lot of blood. He called for an ambulance and they took her to the hospital. He just prayed to whoever was up there for her to get better and to not let her die - even though he was not a religious man.

When Will said she woke up, he sighed, relieved she was alright. He got the chance to talk to her alone and she confirmed she loved him but also her husband and kids. She was sorry she had to said so and made things to complicate for them.

They could not be together and that broke his heart but he understood that and does not say anything else. He then had to go to her mother's care hospital and found out she was lucid, just like she was when he was a kid. It was not something permanent but they will be able to enjoy it until the Alzheimer and the schizophrenia hit her again and maybe she will never return to her true self again.

That day he decided to talk to her about JJ and her confession, his feelings for her and asked what to do. Diane gave her son an advice he hated but was the right one. He needed to move on and look for someone else. She was married and had a beautiful family, and he needed that to but not with her.

After that he decided to look for help so he looked for a psychologist to help him. He had a nightmare at his work place when a man with an axe attacked him and his coworkers.

The therapist told him to find someone out of work to have a normal conversation. He was reluctant at first but at the end he accepted the homework.

That's when he realized he did not know how to talk to normal people about normal things. He could talk to unsubs, to witnesses or the family of the victims but could not talk with others out of work.

Then Sammy, a twelve years boy, arrived to him saying his scarf was weird and so was his hair cut. His aunt, a pretty woman, was searching for him and when she saw him talk to this stranger man, she freaked out.

Her car was getting a ticket and taken away, which caused Sammy to had a panic attack. Spencer decided to perform a magic trick and the boy immediately calm down.

Max was impressed by that but still does not thrust him. When she planned to take Sam to the park and call his mother to pick them up, her nephew asked Spencer to join them.

They did not want to but Sammy insisted so they made an agreement of not names or personal information and when her sister picked up the kid they will go separate ways.

However, she first told him she had a degree in art history but ended up teaching third graders at and doing turkeys with their hands. He opened up and told her about his assignment to talk to "normal people" about "normal things" which was something new to him. But when he was about to tell her about the dream she stopped him saying it was to personal.

Then her sister arrived to take her son and then played to be cupid with them. He discovered her name was Maxine, but she preferred Max. When her sister told him she was single he noticed her blush.

When they were about to take separate ways she asked about his dream. So they both went to buy a pretzel and to talk about it. He told her some stressful situations in the past few weeks and she just understood that maybe his work was really stressful.

They talked about trust and what she thought of him and her nephew. He just realized he had not profile her or her nephew, he was just Spencer Reid talking to a nice and beautiful woman about his job but into gory details or something like that. He was relaxed.

He was so relaxed that she tricked him and pushed in to the sprinklers which made him to pick her up and runs into them so she also got wet with the water. They laughs and had fun.

She took him to a store close to the coffee shop to buy some clothes so they do not hey sick.

Then he got a text telling him Kristy was in labor and he had to leave Max. Which made him feel disappointed

"I think I should... go" she also felt disappointed then he added "I know we said no names or numbers but I would like to do this again, preferably with... you" she just smiled at that.

"What do you do for the FBI? for real"

"I'm a profiler, I found people using psychology"

She smirks looking at him "good, find me" then she leaves him with a smile.

Spencer went to the hospital and when he arrived his coworkers were already on their way to the room when the baby was in.

He found JJ and she was surprised by his clothes and she asked about it

He said "I just... had a conversation"

JJ smirked and looked at him "just a conversation huh? Well whoever this conversation was with. It put a smile on your face that I didn't see in a long long time" he was a little embarrassed of talking about his love life, especially with her after she confessed she loved him. Then JJ looked at the room where everyone was heading and then back to him "so you know there's only so many people that can fit in that delivery room so..."

"Oh yeah, yeah I should just say hello to the baby" he said looking at JJ.

"And you will, you know in a week from now. And the baby will still be a baby and we'll have two very tired parents that will want some help" she was making excuses and making it clean he could leave without any worry because the baby with still be there for him to meet.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah..." he smiles slightly and he doubted whether to leave or not until she said "go" he turned with a big smile and ran out the hospital.

JJ looked at him leaving and smiled. She loved him and wanted the best for him. She had a mix of emotions because she wanted him happy and that makes her happy but also she was sad because she was not the one who give him his happiness.

She saw him evolve into this more secure young man who just met a woman that made him feel happy. And she will make sure he never lose her. Whether they ended up being a couple or just friends.

When Spencer arrived to the park he left Max. He started to look for her. Then suddenly he saw her with her regular clothes back on and with coffee. He smiles and so did she then Max said "took you long enough"

He walks to her and they both walk away talking. That night the journey of Spencer and Maxine started. At first it was just an assignment for him and now they both have a new hope and the future ahead.

OOooOOooOO

Well this story was first wrote in Spanish, by me by the way, but someone asked me to translate it and here it is.

Ephram hadn't stopped to text Freddie, figuring he'd be better able to explain Asker and what had happened in person once he got home. But when he arrived to find his husband and Ollie waiting for him, he realized that maybe Freddie'd been told some other way.

For fucksake, Ciara. Couldn't even trust me to do this right, could you.

"C'mon, girl. Come meet the family," Ephram said to Asker, opening the door of his truck and getting out; he would have gone around to open her door but the dog streaked out of the driver's side and ran bounding up the steps of the porch, standing in front of Freddie and Ollie and looking from one to the other as she panted happily.

"Honey." Walking up behind the dog, Ephram wrapped his arms around Freddie and exhaled gustily, feeling wired and still strained but infinitely relieved to be home. "I take it you already knew I'd be bringin' my dog home, huh?" He stayed close to Freddie, taking comfort in the familiarity of the fairy's presence and his magic, and looked down at Oliver. Wanting to see if the little Chin had any opinion on this.

Ephram wasn't an sort of expert on fairy familiars and the breadth of their abilities, but if there was anything wrong with Asker, somehow he felt that Ollie would know, would be able to sniff it out before either him or Freddie could. "I know Ciara thinks she could be evil, that it's necromancy and all that, but Freddie…" Ephram rested his head against Freddie's, still looking at dog and familiar, "...ain't nothin' bout her that feels off to me. That's all. That's the best I can say. She feels like the same dog, only, mmmmph...only better. Calmer. More sure about herself. Not so watchful and tense like she used to be. She ain't in pain. She's happy."

He turned his face, closing his eyes as he pressed his forehead into Freddie's soft brown hair, swallowing hard. 

“Hello, love,” Freddie said, gathering Ephram into his arms and holding him there for a moment, doing his best with touch and his physical presence to leech away some of his husband’s jittery tension. “And we did, yeah. Ciara texted not long ago; wanted to warn me that you were bringing home something potentially dangerous.” The fairy looked down at Asker, who stood before them guileless and happy, panting as her tail swished - and he knelt for a moment to pet her, Ollie observing shrewdly from not far off, getting a measure of things.

“I’ve heard a lot about you, Miss,” Freddie said, stroking Asker’s head and ruffling her ears, able to feel only the faintest hum of familiar silver-green magic as he buried his fingers in her soft fur - nothing tainted or curdled or demonic, “Our Ephram’s missed you.”

He stood again, exchanging a silent word with Ollie as the little Chin moved forward, circling Asker slowly, watching and assessing. They’d discussed it before Ephram had arrived back, knowing that, one magical animal to another, it was the little familiar who would best be able to identify any wrongness that might be present - and he watched, one arm slipped around his witch, keeping him snugged up close, as Ollie came to a halt in front of Ephram’s dog.

“She doesn’t feel off to me either, sweetheart - if that counts for anything,” Freddie said softly, “And you’d know better than I do, anyway.”

Ollie sat down in front of Asker, who immediately did the same, and the little Chin closed his big dark eyes, reaching out in search of anything strange or unclean, and finding nothing of the kind. Speaking into the depths of Asker’s mind and spirit, using simple words and gentle pressure, before opening his eyes again and getting to his feet with a kind-sounding snuff, beckoning the other animal closer. And Asker complied with another light swish of her tail, bringing her face down close to Ollie’s and resting their heads together.

They stayed that way for a moment or two, and then Ollie thumped his own tail once, down on the porch, and they separated again, Asker moving to butt her head against Ephram’s big paw in search of some petting, and Oliver turning back to Freddie to explain what he’d found - and what he hadn’t. And Freddie looked down at his friend seriously, nodding his head and murmuring his understanding, before finally looking back to his husband, Ollie walking over to stand on his hind legs against the witch’s shin, giving him a supportive little nuzzle with his flat face.

“Ol says she’s fine,” Freddie said, “She’s very new… and old, all at once - but she’s fine. And he’d like me to glamour her to show you, if that’s alright, love. Because if she isn’t what she appears to be, then when I return her to her natural state, we’ll know it - but Ollie says he’s certain. He says she’s sweet - and simple… just not entirely the same as she was.”

“But she’s a good girl.” Asker’s ears twitched at the words, and Ollie got down from Ephram’s shin to pat her right front paw with his own.

“He says she’s your dog, sweetheart. And she’s very glad to see you.”

Ephram watched these proceedings in a slight daze. He wasn't feeling magically drained or tumultuous, but emotionally was another matter; with Ollie and Freddie taking the situation in hand, it allowed him a moment to just … rest. And feel the anger with Ciara abating, pulling back like a tide and allowing something calmer and more familiar to creep back into place. He was still upset with the other witch, that hadn't gone away, and he didn't regret his decision to call their lessons quits, but it was painful to think about. After all of the effort Ephram had gone through to convince Ciara to teach him, for it to end this way?

For the slightest second, Ephram wished Asker had never come back at all.

But then Oliver came over and gave his approval, with that serious little smushed face, and Asker licked Ephram's fingertips, and he breathed out and let that go. His dog was here, now, and she was fine. Ollie and Freddie said so, and there wasn't much else in the way of validation that Ephram needed. 

"Thank you," he murmured to Freddie, touching the tip of his nose to his husband's temple, before addressing Ollie as well. "Thank you. God, you don't know how relieved I am to hear it." Because Ephram had instinctively felt that Asker wasn't a conduit of evil, out there in that field by his old trailer, but away from it and with Ciara's unyielding suspicion burrowing its way through all of his own assuredness, he'd been starting to buckle, a little.

Shaking himself fully back into the moment, Ephram reached down to give Ollie's head a little stroke, and then applied himself to rumpling Asker's ears until her watchful look gave way to contentment and she looked up at Freddie, redirecting her witch. "Please, Freddie," Ephram said. "Go ahead and glamour her, honey, that would be best. Whatever it takes to make sure."

Freddie nodded, reaching up to touch his husband’s face softly, reassuringly. “Alright, love,” he said, “We’ll just do a few, yeah? With varying degrees of complexity. Up the scale and down again.”

He knelt a second time, Ollie coming to sit beside him, the little Chin projecting a soothing confidence in order to set Asker herself at ease, and Freddie called her over gently. “Come here, girl, yeah?” he murmured, “It won’t hurt, I promise. Shall we do Ollie first, so you can see?”

Freddie lifted his hand, letting a silver cascade of dust fall over Oliver, changing his familiar from a Japanese Chin to a hedgehog; holding it long enough for Ollie to spin in a small circle, and then letting it fall again. Oliver, restored, coming over to give Asker an affectionate little nudge. 

“As easy as that,” Freddie said, petting her head, “You won’t feel a thing, love.” And Asker sat obediently, looking at Freddie with her warm dark eyes, as if telling him that she was ready.

The fairy held up both hands, sending twin streams of dust from his palms to snake around the dog, covering her in silver; and only a moment later she too had become a hedgehog - though where Ollie had moved of his own accord, doing what he pleased, Asker sat very still, waiting to be hold that her task was through.

“Well done,” Freddie murmured, dusting her again, “Good girl, Asker.” 

She was a peacock now - a male, because they were prettiest, and therefore more complicated - and she fanned out her tail, bringing a smile to the fairy’s lips. “Lovely,” he said, “Just one more now…”

One more silvery slipstream, and Asker had become a little Chin in her own right, lemon and white to Ollie’s newsprint, and this time, she got to her feet and playfully butted her head against Oliver, hoping to play now that they were of a similar size. Ollie let out an amused little snort, then nudged her back to her place again. 

She sat once more and Freddie let the glamour fall, a hard reset, to reveal….

Asker. Nothing more, nothing less.

The fairy stood, ruffling her ears again. “All done,” he told her, before looking back to Ephram, with a smile. “She’s fine, love. Just like Ollie said.”

“Now tell me what happened, yeah?” Freddie opened the front door and held it for his family. “I mean, Ciara says she’s got your eyes, and all sorts of other things - but I want to hear it from you.”

He followed the trio into the front foyer, herding them towards the kitchen. “I’ll put the kettle on, I think. We could all do with a cup of tea.”

Up the scale and down again.

Freddie'd pressed his fairy dust into service many times, and Ephram had never failed to find it impressive and breathtakingly beautiful, that silver slipstream of pure possibility that his husband crafted into whatever his prodigious imagination could conjure. Dog to hedgehog to peacock to Japanese Chin, and Ephram laughed a little when his dog, finding herself a match to Ollie, immediately thought that was reason enough for playtime. "Good girl," he echoed Freddie, giving his husband a grateful squeeze as he went into the house behind the dogs, sitting on one of the kitchen island stools while Freddie put up the kettle.

"We buried my eyes," Ephram said without any preamble; that was a given, what he and Ciara had headed out to do. "And it went well, Freddie, it went off perfect, I think she was pleased with me for bein' able to find so much closure. Without it hurting. I just felt lifted once they was buried and gone." Ephram held out his arms for his fairy, wanting him close and wrapped up tight.

"And then we was goin' back to the truck, and Asker was there, in the back." Asker, who was observing Ollie as closely as if the Chin was holding the potential for treats of some sort, looked over for a moment at mention of her name, but finding Ephram otherwise occupied went back to her intense focus on the familiar. "Jes like she is now, but Ciara was suspicious of 'er. Thinkin' she was demon, or evil, or Doppler, or all sorts of whatever else that Ciara knows about. I don't know. Messed-up things that could be harmful. She did a ward around us with her blood magic and I busted through it, and I shouldn't of done that, Freddie, I think I hurt her real bad doin' that." 

Ephram nodded at the kettle as it started whistling, murmuring, "...I want tea." He knew it wouldn't settle the ache in his belly, thinking about how his bludgeoning Ciara's ward probably wounded her, but the warmth at least would be something easier to swallow. 

Freddie of course knew how Ephram drank his tea (since after all, Freddie was the sole reason Ephram had gotten accustomed to hot tea in the first place) so he stayed where he was and continued his narrative. "She kept insisting it was necromancy and there were prices to be paid and you couldn't jes take from the earth and all that stuff, but … I know what it feels like when somethang comes back wrong, Freddie. I don't got proper witchcraft words for it, I don't got the pedigree from a coven or anythang, but I know. I ain't naive. I ain't blinded by Christian notions. I ain't tryin' to cheat the laws of Nature or force my magic where it shouldn't be. It happened. Asker's here, the Cinquefoil brought her back and it wouldn't of done it if I hadn't buried my eyes there, where Asker was buried. It's meant to contain the effects of the demon, that's what it does! Anaxis was tied to those eyes, Freddie. They were practically a fuckin' trophy for it. The Cinquefoil fixed it. My dog died tryin' to protect me from the demon's effects. How much more fuckin' poetic could it be, clearing out the demon's triumph by bringin' back the sweet creature what sacrificed herself for me?"

Listening as he bustled efficiently about the kitchen putting on the kettle and collecting mugs, dishes, and teabags, Freddie paused, setting everything down on the counter when Ephram told him how well the burial had gone, and how much lighter he’d felt afterward; immediately going into Ephram’s arms when he opened them, holding his husband close and rubbing his back gently. “I’m so glad, sweetheart,” the fairy murmured, “You deserve that sort of relief after so many years weighed down.”

“…so much for my poor boy to have to carry…”

And he stayed where he was, hugging Ephram tightly, his fingers stroking through the blond hair at the nape of his witch’s neck as Ephram carried on talking - explaining Asker’s sudden arrival and Ciara’s reaction to it - his wheels turning, until the kettle had boiled and Ephram had spoken his desire for tea aloud. At which point, Freddie let him go, pressing a kiss to his cheek, and began to fix him a cuppa. “Sweetheart,” the fairy said, his voice warm and loving, but serious, “-maybe you shouldn’t have broken her ward the way you did, but you didn’t know it would hurt her. How could you? She reacted instinctively in that moment by throwing up a ward, and you reacted instinctively by breaking it. Should or shouldn’t doesn’t apply. It happened, and all you can do now is move forward. But I won’t have you assuming more fault than you’re due, yeah?”

Freddie handed over a mug of tea, fixed to Ephram’s preference and standard, meeting his husband’s blue eyes. “Because I know you, darling, and I know that you’ve likely already apologised for it.” He touched their foreheads together, then smoothed Ephram’s hair back. “You’ve apologised, and you’ve meant it, and now you know better. If Ciara’s any sort of a proper teacher, that will be enough for her.”

Turning back to the counter to fix a saucer of tea for Ollie and fill a bowl of water for Asker, Freddie then round the island to where the little Chin and the dog sat side by side, settling both items down. “She seems to want to do whatever you do, mate,” Freddie said to his familiar, “-but don’t let her have any tea, yeah? I don’t think it’s good for dogs.” He gave Oliver’s ear a stroke, and then turned to Asker herself, ruffling her ears. “Mind Ollie, love,” he told her, “There’s a good girl.”

“To be honest, darling,” the fairy continued, heading back to the counter to finally sort out his own brew, “-I don’t think the notion of necromancy necessarily applies here. I mean, I’m not saying that Ciara isn’t right about the dos and don’ts and costs and all that - maybe she is - but I don’t think this is necromancy. I mean, she keeps nattering on about prices to be paid, but you didn’t set out to bring Asker back. There was no negotiation, no endgame, no quid pro quo entered into.”

Freddie sipped his tea. “You didn’t cast a spell, there was no intention there - and from what I hear, necromancy is bloody hard or everyone would be doing it; so the idea that it’s just happened spontaneously? I don’t buy that. Whatever’s happened here, it’s something new. Something unique to these circumstances. Calling it necromancy is just painting it with the most convenient brush.” Freddie smirked a bit wryly. “And really, I don’t think our Ciara enjoys not knowing exactly what’s going on. I think that loss of control upsets her more than she’d like to admit, love - and I think you and Asker bore the brunt of that today.”

“Plus,” Freddie added matter-of-factly, taking another drink, “-all that ‘of the Earth’ business is all well and good, but it’s hardly the be all and end all, is it? I mean, technically, I’m not even remotely of this Earth, so it’s a bit of a narrow viewpoint, don’t you think?”

He set his mug down and came back to stand close to Ephram, slipping his arms around him again. “So I think you’re right, sweetheart,” he said, “I think this is down to the Cinquefoil, and to you and me, and I think we’re writing our own book now.” He nuzzled against Ephram’s cheek. “After all, you’re my poet, aren’t you? So why shouldn’t the world give you a little poetry back again?”

"That's … true," Ephram said in regards to Freddie's point about necromancy requiring intent and direction. "I mean, I would think that's true, never havin' attempted no necromancy my own self ever." He sipped his milky, sugary tea and considered what biscuits he'd like to have with it once they'd settled on a conclusion to this topic, deciding on the ones with the jam middles at roughly the same point when Freddie declared that being a fairy from the Otherworld, the notion that all magic stemmed from the Earth was an incomplete picture anyhow.

"My lil magical alien," Ephram hummed, nestling back into Freddie's arms and presenting his cheek to be properly nuzzled. "It makes sense, yeah. The way that you put it. Feels more true to the situation than -- than debts and darkness and the threat of one day having to pay for all of this. I want it to be something pretty, Freddie." He sighed against his husband, settling. "I ain't so foolish to disregard the possibility of pain and a price bein' exacted, but I'm not gonna look for it where it don't exist, neither." The Cinquefoil thrummed, and the mark on Freddie's hand answered, Ephram feeling both against his skin; there was no ugliness there, only healing.

And Ephram was more than ready to be healed.

Normals and Neutral - Understanding EXCEED's Basic Options

Hello, everyone! Marco here to bring you some sweet, sweet EXCEED content. Given that we’re expecting a decent influx of new players from the new Street Fighter season, I believe that it would be useful to give them a quick primer on an EXCEED mechanic that is quite important: Normals.

Normals are, for the most part, a set of cards that every character in EXCEED has access to. Much like “normals” in actual fighting games, these cards are meant to represent attacks and options that any character can do such as blocking or sweeping. It is, therefore, important that you understand how Normals work. You’re gonna be seeing them often, after all!

The Anatomy of a Card

Before diving into how Normals work, we must first establish a few terms. This is important as I’ll be using them quite often when talking about the cards. Please reference the graphic below:

Here you see the “Cross” Normal. It has a Range of 1-2, a Power of 3, a Speed of 6, and an After Effect that lets you retreat 3. On the bottom of the card, you see the “Run” Boost, which costs 0 Force to play and has a Boost Effect that lets you advance up to 3 when you play it. As such, each card in Street Fighter EXCEED can be thought of as two cards in one: an Attack you can use in a fight, or a Boost that gives a variety of effects in and out of combat.

One thing to note is that cards in EXCEED can be played as an Attack (the top 80% of the card) OR as a Boost (the small yellow box on the bottom). These two aspects of a card are often separate and mutually exclusive. This means that using a card’s Attack prevents you from using its Boost and vice versa. Do you want to use it as an attack now or hold it as a Boost for later? These kinds of questions will, hopefully, be answered by the end of this article.

Understanding Your Options

It’s time to get to the Normals themselves. As mentioned earlier, these cards are representations of actions that all the characters can take. They are, therefore, tools that every character can make use of to further their gameplan. Whether you’re a Zoner like Guile or a Grappler like Zangief, a good understanding of your options is crucial to victory! With that in mind, let’s get started!

Grasp

Grasp is EXCEED’s take on a fast poke attack. Taking from high priority grab attacks in fighting games, Grasp offers you excellent control over the opponent’s positioning with its Hit Effect, possibly cornering them for added pressure. Using its massive 7 Speed, not many attacks can beat Grasp when it comes to going first. However, its limited Range of 1 makes it only useable in melee. In addition, it trades quite poorly if it does not Stun the opponent or move them out of their attack’s effective range, so be careful against attacks with Guard and huge Range.

Fierce, its boost, provides quite a bit of extra punch to most of the attacks in the game, letting you forego Grasp’s fast consistency for a meatier hit on another attack. While not relevant in many cases, the added Power to your attack could spell the difference between Stunning the opponent or letting them counterattack. Consider your opponent’s Guard options and boost with Fierce to adapt.

Cross

Cross is a powerful tool that gives your character a lot of mobility, especially when it comes to creating gaps. An effective “side-grade” to Grasp, Cross sacrifices Speed for added Range and positioning control, letting you create a lot of breathing room. Defensive fighters appreciate this Normal quite a lot due to the amount of space it creates for them, as the opponent must now close the gap to apply more pressure. It’s very important to remember that, unlike Grasp, Cross’ movement is an After Effect; not a Hit Effect. This means that, even if you whiff, Cross still lets you back away from the opponent, giving you guaranteed distance. However, be weary of your positioning because Cross is only as good as the spaces behind you. Without room to retreat, it will handily lose to a lot of other Normals.

On the offensive side, the Run Boost fulfills the opposite purpose: it’s a powerful gap-closer. Movement is often quite costly in EXCEED as you often have to trade one card for one space of movement (and more if you want to switch sides with an opponent). Run lets you move three spaces for the price of one card, making it quite efficient. Aggressive characters who want to stay in melee may find themselves using this Boost quite often.

Assault

Moving on, we have the aggressive character’s favorite Normal: Assault. True to its name, this is a highly offensive Attack, letting you close-in on your prey while dealing a decent chunk of damage. Fans of our other games might be scared to see that the Before Effect moves you 2 spaces and could result in you “overshooting” your target. Don’t fret as Assault uses the keyword “Close”, which lets you advance without switching sides, guaranteeing that you stay at Range 1. However, while this is all well and good, one of its biggest benefits is most definitely its Hit Effect, which gives you Advantage, letting you take the next turn post-Strike. This is a powerful ability as it allows you to keep the pressure on and possibly “combo” into another Strike that yields even more damage! Assault’s biggest weakness is its middling Power, which makes it trade relatively poorly against some of the slower Normals with huge Guard and Armor values, so be careful of those.

Much like Cross, Assault’s Backstep Boost is the polar opposite of its Attack counterpart. Rather than bringing you closer, it allows you to create distance; this time, at a rate of 4 spaces for 1 card! This is quite efficient and definitely a welcome option for defensive ranged characters who need to get away from aggressive enemies. This is a common theme in EXCEED. Characters who don’t find the Attack side of a card useful can often make excellent use of a card’s Boost instead!

Dive

Dive is quite an interesting attack with very specific Range. Despite having a Range of 1, its Before Effect advances the user 3 spaces, which, unlike Assault’s Close 2, allows them to overshoot their target. This effectively means that Dive’s “effective Range” is actually 3-4, making it a mid to long range option for a close-in. However, its mediocre speed leaves much to be desired. Many character-unique Attacks that are effective at these ranges tend to either be Speed 4 or greater, meaning that Dive could easily be stuffed by a dedicated ranged character, since it has no Guard. However, should the opponent find no answer to it, Dive is quite a powerful attack, letting you charge in, deal big damage, and avoid the enemy’s attack all in one go! One final thing to note is that Dive can still be used in melee. Even if you won’t hit the opponent, you can still use the Before Effect to move past an opponent and dodge any Attack that’s slower than Speed 4, such as some of the Normals below. As an added bonus, if your opponent is in the corner (or near it) the movement won’t necessarily put you outside of Range 1, making for a sneaky option that many players won’t expect from a “ranged” Attack.

The Boost on this card, Tech, is very much a niche utility effect, much like Dive itself. While there aren’t that many uses for it, this Boost can prove crucial in dealing with specific types of characters, specifically those who tend to rely on Boosts to power-up their attacks a significant degree. Sometimes, removing that one crucial Boost on the opponent’s side could mean the difference between a lost or won Strike, so look out for those opportunities and don’t forget this option!

Sweep

We’re going to jump a little ahead of the Speed order and move onto Sweep (I’ll explain why later). Sweep is what many players consider to be “the best Normal Attack”. It essentially trades positively in terms of damage and card advantage against all of the Normals we’ve just discussed. This means that, at Range 1, you can expect Sweep to consistently net you a huge lead in almost every respect. Sweep, therefore, kind of dominates many of your Attack interactions. It dictates what attacks “feel safe”, as anything that can’t effectively trade against Sweep will just feel bad when fighting against it. However, despite its many advantages, Sweep does have a few downsides. The biggest one is its slow Speed, which makes it susceptible to the opponent’s Effects. Should they have any effects that let them evade, or even outright Stun you, Sweep definitely seems less good. As an extension to this, it is important to remember that Sweep is a trading Attack, and that means that Sweep will often have to eat and Guard through an attack before hitting back. This can be quite troublesome at lower life totals, as the opponent could easily just K.O. you before you even get the chance to Attack!

Light, on the other hand, is much like the Fierce Boost on Grasp. It allows you to buff your next attack with more Speed. This may seem like an effective side-grade to the Fierce Boost, but don’t let looks deceive you! In EXCEED, Speed often dictates what Attacks win or lose. A simple +2 Speed can turn a bad interaction into an extremely positive one! For example, an Assault with 5 Speed handily loses to a 6 Speed Cross, which makes the aggressor sad, but an Assault with 7 Speed handily beats Cross, flipping the entire outcome on its head. Consider this well and boost your Speed to tip the scales to your favor!

Focus

Focus is an Attack that is little bit less powerful than Sweep but is definitely a lot safer. A large majority of the things that I said about Sweep tend to apply to Focus as well. It usually dominates attack interactions, and results in you getting a life lead and card advantage. In line with this, its low speed also makes it highly susceptible to faster Effects. However, Focus has a few advantages that Sweep does not. This Attack’s built-in Armor values mean that it can still shrug off attacks at low life totals. Its “cannot be moved” Effect is also quite powerful, letting you guarantee your positioning for at least another turn. However, this also means that Focus has a few weaknesses when compared to Sweep. These are, mainly, its lower Range and Power values. This means it can’t kill as fast and more mobile characters can dodge it should they wish. Therefore, look to Focus should you need a safer, more defensive alternative to the powerful Sweep. Just be mindful about the opponent’s movement tools.

Now, onto the meat of this card: Reading. If Sweep is the “best Normal Attack”, then Reading is the “best Normal Boost”. While many newer players might not exactly appreciate it, experienced players know the power of Reading. The text might seem a bit odd at first, but it essentially lets you call out Normal and force the opponent to Attack with it, if they have it. This ability, when used correctly, allows you to win virtually any Strike by calling the right card! Simply call an attack that will lose to a card in your hand and you will find yourself getting a “free win”. Granted, the opponent won’t always have the Normal that you name, so it is important to keep track of what cards could be in the opponent’s hand so you don’t name a card they can’t possibly have! Should you fail the read, don’t worry too much. Your opponent still has to reveal their hand to you, which gives you crucial information on what attacks they can play, setting you up to win Strikes on later turns.

Block

Should you ever feel like you don’t know what to do when your opponent attacks, Block is often a good tool to make use of. Despite not actually being an “Attack”, since it doesn’t hit or deal damage, Block is core to every character’s kit, giving them a defensive option that can possibly negate most, if not all, incoming damage! In addition to this, you still get to build-up Gauge thanks to its After Effect, which will definitely help you when trying to keep-up in terms of resources. However, it isn’t all sunshine and rainbows! That damage mitigation comes at the hefty cost of Force, which could leave you resource-starved later on. When playing Block, remember that you are not required to spend Force to negate all the damage. This could be quite useful when Blocking attacks like Grasp and Cross, which would only deal 1 damage after going through your default 2 Armor.

Parry acts as an alternative to Focus’ Reading Boost. Instead of forcing the opponent to Strike with the named card, they simply have to Discard it. This might seem much weaker as the pay-off is nowhere near as good as instantly winning a Strike, but it has its own distinct advantages. First, it allows you to name ANY card; not just Normals! This makes it great for getting rid of threatening character-unique attacks like Specials and Ultras, which are often unbeatable by most attacks. Speaking of Specials and Ultras, the second advantage is the fact that you don’t have to Strike! Should the opponent have an attack that’s nigh unbeatable (like a Special or Ultra), you don’t have to bother fighting against it anymore and just have them Discard it instead, removing a threatening option from the opponent’s hand while maintaining relative safety!

Spike

This is the reason I decided to skip ahead on the Speed order. It would be really hard to explain Spike without having exposed you to all the other Normals. Spike functions similarly to throwing a wrench into a bunch of cogs: it kind of flips the entire system on its head. Slower Attacks like Sweep, Focus, and Block tend to be safer and more consistent, while faster Attacks like Grasp, Cross, Assault, and Dive tend to lend themselves to risker, but more rewarding pay-offs. Spike disrupts this by being a strict counter to slow Attacks. With its Ignore Armor and Ignore Guard Effects, Spike can handily trade-up against the usually consistent Sweep, Focus, and Block! This allows you to threaten some of the most dominant attacks in the game while dealing some big damage to boot. However, on the flip side, the usually risky fast Attacks completely dunk on Spike due to its low Speed and awkward range. If the attack isn’t going to Stun it, the opponent can usually use their movement options to get into melee or move far away enough to evade Spike entirely. This makes Spike a risky but necessary tool for counterplay.

Last but not the list is the Defend Boost, which is very much different from Spike itself. Rather than being risky, Defend increases the safety of your following attacks by giving it +1 Armor and +3 Guard, which usually guarantees safety against most fast pokes. Much like Sweep’s Light Boost, this can change the interaction between some attacks in a way that makes things beneficial for you. This is especially true for attacks with middling speed, such as Dive and Spike itself!

Final Words

Normals act as a substitute for “basic actions” that characters should be able to perform in any fighting game. While they may seem “plainer�� when compared the more exciting Specials and Ultras, they are still crucial tools that can aid your character in their gameplan. They could even support your character’s Specials and Ultras by giving them added stats or setting-up their preferred ranges. It is, therefore, useful to remember what options these cards provide you, so that you can play more effectively and get that K.O.!

Seriously, if you use Reading to call out Spike then Shinryuken someone, you know you’ve won some immense hype points.

And that brings me to the end of my article! I hope you all enjoyed it! Please don’t hesitate to ask me questions in the comments below. I’ll try to answer them as best as I can. Finally, if you want a try at using the Normals yourself, I suggest getting a box of Street Fighter EXCEED by CLICKING HERE!

Adrift~ Chapter 3

Chubby!Mermaid x Sailor!Hoseok

< Previous 

Everyone was in a drunken stupor as the sun rose in the streets. They had to get out of the bar since it was closing but partied on the beach and all throughout the night with bottles of whiskey, beer, and exotic fruity drinks from all over the world in their hands.

Jimin could hold his alcohol and tended to the captain, “We still gonna set sail before dusk, Captain?” He said with notes of extreme snark, handing the captain a cup of water and an antiacid.

He jerked the cup away, “Hardy har har. Yer lucky I find ya cute. We set sail tomorrow. It’s almost dusk anyway, so let cher Captain sleep, won’t ya?”

“Anything you say, Captain.” He smiled and left the room to talk to the new members they had met.

The other crew mates got to know each other. The new chef was Jin who said he needed to get to the market before they closed for the night and pack up his few belongings. Jungkook was the 17 year old fisherman with his friend Taehyung who met through drawings in the sand in their “private spot” They just met in person two days ago.

Namjoon was busy fixing the battered parts of the ship and adding things to make it as modern as he could with the parts that were available. Yoongi teased him about past incidents and the two caught up. They had gone their separate ways after the last captain they followed got sick and died. There had been rumors of a mutiny against the second in command, and the two didn’t want to be a part of it.

The other mates were very intimidating to say the least. Older men, former captains, just really strong ass dudes who wanted to join in the sea voyage to find riches.

“Hobi!” Yoongi called the man out of his daydreams, “Come here! I think this’ll interest you.”

Hoseok put his things away and joined Yoongi who was watching Namjoon board up and seal the sides that were damaged from the storm. He was on a pulley contraption.

“Yea?”

“Namjoon, tell him what you told me.”

He nodded, “I was saved by mermaids. I wasn’t even sure they existed until I came here. Some other captain wanted me to help with his ship, so I did and worked all day and night even though we were expecting high winds. Knocked clean off this thing right here into the ocean. No one could hear me call for help, but a very shiny and scaly woman saved me. Had to be a mermaid.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

Yoongi replied, “You were talking about (Y/N) being one, right? After you got back, you had a few more drinks and told us how you saw her again.” He lowered his voice.

“Yeah. She said she was. I asked and she swam away. She asked me to come with her, but I said no.”

“Yoongi I need to move to the left!”

He got to work pushing the trolly-like contraption to his right, Namjoon’s left so that he could continue fixing. He spoke as he got pushed.

“Yeah, I can see that. I didn’t ask her since I didn’t wake up to her there, but a cute girl with a similar shape has shown up and has been asking me to make her things lately. I think it might be her, but I’ve been too shy to ask.”

“Namjoon-oppa!”

All heads turned to a girl with sea shells in her hair and bare feet running across the sand and into the ocean with no hesitation even though the hem of her skirt got wet. Namjoon smiled. That was the girl. He was pulled up to go talk to her, but she wasn’t allowed to step foot on the ship.

Tae returned with Jin and helped him store everything away while Jungkook carried art supplies to the storage room. They needed to stock up if they were leaving before the sun started to set tomorrow afternoon.

Hoseok was sure that Namjoon had been saved by that girl and that girl was a mermaid. She had that subtle shimmer that (Y/N) had while the two spoke in the dazzling sunlight. Jimin approached Hoseok and asked who the girl was that Namjoon was talking to. They explained.

“Mermaid?” Jungkook asked, taking his notebook out of his satchel and flipping through. “You mean these, right? Magical haenyeo.”

His drawings were pristine and colored in great detail. The other boys nodded, and Jungkook said that he saw one caught in his net when he was 15 but when they came to the surface, it was just a young man holding a fish in his arms.

“He cared greatly for that fish, called it his daughter. I think it wasn’t just a fish. I set them free and made sure he got to keep it.” He put it back into his bag. “I haven’t seen one since, though.”

Taehyung had joined the conversation as well, “There was a little girl who thought I was a mermaid before. She said I looked like one because I was so pretty. Then she disappeared into the waves.”

Jimin talked about (Y/N) and how the two shared dances that they had learned when neither of them could sleep. Jin said that he got help from a mermaid when a lot of the fish were disappearing because he went home empty handed one day and the next it was as if they were jumping into his nets.

Namjoon returned with an iridescent necklace around his neck.

“When uh,” Yoongi said. “When our mermaid came onto the ship, I knew there was something different about her. And I think she spoke with me with her mind and asked me to convince the Captain to let her stay. I asked her about it, and she said that she had been carried away by a strong current and was just trying to get home.”

The others agreed. They had met mermaids before. The men were curious if this was just a trick of the ocean or what.

Tae pointed, “What’s that?”

“Oh uh, she heard I was leaving and wanted to give me a gift that she made herself since I made so many things for her. She said it wouldn’t be to long until we met again. I really hope so.”

He looked at the shore to were she was singing and walking slowly back home. She had a beautiful voice that almost put the boys into a trance.

[Setting Sail Again]

With a new, smaller, crew, the men set sail for Bangtan Island with a renewed zest for riches. There were only about 25 men total compared to the previous crew which had been nearly double the size. There was now the rule of absolutely no women on board, trans or otherwise. Just to be safe. That had cut it down from the original 32 sailors who had joined last night.

The sea was gorgeous as beautiful. Namjoon had done a great job of fixing the ship as it ran smoother than it ever did before. The perfection of the calm ocean also helped with their travels and speed. They still had the map that (Y/N) had given them and followed the stars as specified.

Every night was a party to thank the ocean gods and to celebrate the perfect voyage. The sun wasn’t too hot with the constant sea salt breeze tingling in the men’s noses and blowing life into their sails. They ate well with Jin on board, and it turns out that Namjoon was also a poet. Not one for dancing, though.

Jungkook was able to catch fish off the side when they were starting to run low on  food with Taehyung’s help. They were able to get some large beauties to chomp down on for dinner later that evening while Jin performed some new dances he had learned. Hoseok mapped the stars, making sure they were still going in the right direction.

Captain E shoved a cup of brew into his hands, “Take a break, my good man. We’re still on course. We haven’t gotten off of it since we started! Why would we now? With no women on board, we’re promised safe passage!”

Hoseok just had a feeling that made him want to be consistent in his job and just make sure they were still going where the map led. The Captain was adamant, though. Soon, they just let the ship move on its own to fate while drinks were had and stories were shared, poems being shown off as well. A rowdy drowsiness came over the ship and all cares were flung to the depth of the dark ocean.

As the men slept off, it started to rain and thunder just a little bit. A small cloudburst to mask the sounds of giggles and webbed hands pressing against the side of the ship to turn it several degrees to where it belonged. Ships and their owners had never been kind to them, why then be kind in return when they could have fun instead?

They were just so close that they had to play a small trick on them. It may cost a few lives, but that was just the fate of the ocean. The spirits of the sea doing what they did best. Nothing personal.

A chorus woke them up. It was angelic the way they mixed and mingled and called out to their ears, unlocking every pleasure they ever had. The source was beautiful. Women, so many women. Round and plump in all the right ways and eyes glittering bodies. The Captain and other sailors were transfixed, staring at what had to be Bangtan Island.

It glittered even in the setting sun, making them ignore that they had fallen asleep a while day. Making them ignore that they probably weren’t even on the right course anymore. Only seven of them were looking around and terrified for their lives once the Captain directed the ship towards a set of jagged and deadly rocks.

There was no chance that they’d make it though! It was insanity? What were the other 18 men seeing that these 7 did not? There were vicious Sirens sitting on the rocks singing their song of obvious death.

Insecure again, dangerous again

So bad (why?) us, yeah

Enduring more, holding out

So hard (hard), we can’t

Even if you already knew

We couldn’t stop

No way, no way, no way, falling

As time passes by

We only mess it up even more

No way, no way, it’s collapsing again

“FULL SPEED AHEAD! WE’RE ALMOST THERE, MATEYS! Look at how she glimmers!” Captain E called out.

Like there’s no tomorrow

Like there’s no next time

Everything that you’ve done in front of my eyes

It’s a complete darkness

Say it like you mean it

In the end, we can’t make it

Even so, I keep hoping

Even at the end, if you’re with me, I’m okay

Jimin and the other men who weren’t hypnotized looked over the edge of the ship and saw the waves only going one way. It was if the ocean itself had decided that they were destined to die and not find the island they had dreamed of these past weeks. It got more forceful the closer they got to the Sirens.

“Captain!” Hoseok called “There’s nothing there like you’re imagining! You’re sailing us to our deaths!”

“Shut up, you! We would’ve gotten here sooner if it weren’t for yer friendship with my wench!”

The other men tried to break their crewmates out of the trance, but it was no hope. The water was dangerous.

Namjoon sighed, “We have to jump!”

Taehyung didn’t like that idea, “But the water! It’s not safe!”

“Namjoon’s right, guys!” Jin spoke. “If we jump, we at least have a chance of surviving! If not, we’re skewered for sure!”

Yoongi sighed, “Ok, we’ll jump. We don’t have a choice if we want a chance at something better, like living.”

One by one, the seven men dove into the freezing depths. Why was this feeling familiar? The singing was deafened by the waves as he sunk deeper even though he climbed towards the surface. His air supply wouldn’t last long. He saw the ship pushed into the waves.

A hands grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the rest of the body. He soon feels air rush into his lungs as he chokes out water. A familiar face is before his own, eyes large with concern but a small smile playing on accompanying lips.

“Save--cough--save the others that jumped with me! They’re good men! If you save them, I’ll come with you. I’ll be with you, just help them live!” His voice was raspy with sea salt.

She nods and says something in a language unfamiliar but sounding like the beauty of waves hitting a cliff-side. Splashing is heard from the silence of where he was now. It was calm. She held him as he lost consciousness, the cold of the ocean and fighting against the waves having taken quite a toll on his human body.

[The Next Morning]

Hoseok woke up with a start. His head rested on a pillow. His body was on a bunch of leaves, but he’s covered by a blanket. Standing up, the young man stretched and looked around. He’s in a hut of sorts made of leaves and sticks. He went outside to explore a bit. Where was he?

He saw her unmistakable back sitting on the edge of a tidepool. Her tail splashed in the water. It was different seeing her like this in the daytime. Hoseok sat down next to him, expecting his own legs to become covered in scales and fins once they touch the water.

They didn’t. He looked at her again. Blues, greens, purples, pinks all a part of her scales. No doubt she was a mermaid now.

“Thank you for saving me.”

“It’s cuz I love you. I couldn’t let you die.”

He smiled, “I guess that’s true.” He looked up at the clear sky. “I’m gonna have to get used to being a mermaid, huh?”

She giggled, “I haven’t actually changed you into a merperson yet. I want you to choose this because you want to be like me, Hoseok. Not as a barter for saving your friends’ lives.”

“You really do love me, don’t you?”

She put her hand on his, “Absolutely. Your heart is pure. Your sense of adventure and love for the sea is so much. You’re basically a merman already.”

“Where are we?”

“My home. Bangtan Island!”

Hoseok can’t believe his ears. She laughs at his shocked expression and holds her legs out of the water, letting them turn into human legs before standing up on them. He can’t believe his eyes. So, that’s how they did it.

She reached her hand out to him, and he grabbed it. She took him to the center of the island where there were jewels and gold in a cave at the base of a dormant volcano. The other survivors were there with other merpeople enjoying the riches. Namjoon waved to Hoseok when the older one entered. His girl from the island kissed his cheek and put a crown on his head.

Jungkook held a baby mermaid in his arms who played with the chains around his neck. A man with dark glistening skin was beside him, watching Kookie play with the baby. A squeal was heard and Taehyung was playing with a little blonde girl that was being bounced into the air, tail flipping in excitement.

Jin was at a table where he was being served something spiky by a sweet looking man with purple dreadlocks that glistened. There were other shell shaped plates that were stacked up by the side. Jimin and Yoongi were hanging out with other nice looking merpeople as well.

They all greeted him and said they were glad that he was now awake. Most of them had decided to become mermen since the ones in water had tails with scales of all different hues and tints. Some were ruby red, others matched the same dark green as seaweed.

They had really lived. Hoseok remembered the words that she had said on the plank. “You are one of the few good men who deserve.”

“They all are ok? You’re all really alright?”

The dark-skinned man with Jungkook showed an orange glow come from his hands, “Healing magic. You were all brave to jump off the ship, but also, you got a few scrapes here and there.”

He nodded and hugged her so close. He then held her hands, “I want you to ask me one more time.”

She looked seriously into his eyes and asked for the last time, “Do you want to join me, Hoseok?”

Hoseok stood on the edge of the water, looking out to sea. They had a job to spend the rest of their lives making the seas better. Sinking ships that belonged to toxic captains and wrecking idiots that didn’t heed their warnings. They could live happy lives being free and one with the ocean, but this was something they had to do. It was a part of them.

“Hobi, come in! Water’s fine!”

With a huge smile on his face, he dives in the sea to join the girl that loved him from the beginning. Hoseok was going to live with the girl in the sea forever and was happy to do so. Protecting Bangtan island from the selfish and unworthy visitors that might try to find it. As he swam out, he didn’t even look back to see his footprints glowing in the sand.

FIN.

So after logging in for the first time in- honestly I wanna say a year 😟- I found a private message from someone asking me what has been helping me get better

and like an idiot I immediately accidentally deleted the message. So, sorry person that I can't message you back, but I'm gonna post this and hopefully you'll see it. I've been through a lot of major life changes in the past couple years and haven't really been on tumblr at all (sadly! I've been on a limited data plan too, so I deleted the app). I hope you've all been well in the meantime and are managing ok

This is going to be a very long post, but I'll try to break it up into paragraphs that will make it easier to skim for what you find useful. Quick warning, I'm going to be mentioning eating disorders a few times, but without going into details. First off, I'll go into a couple of the big developments in my life that are derma-relevant. A few months ago I was finally diagnosed with bipolar II, which consists mostly of depressive episodes, but has to be treated differently than unipolar depression, since antidepressants without a mood stabilizer can cause bipolar cycling. I'm now on a mood stabilizer, which is working well, and I'm finding that without bipolar cycling I have less anxiety, leading to less need for self-soothing rituals, which for me leads to less picking. If you might have an underlying condition that's exacerbating your picking, please go see a doctor/psychologist/psychiatrist if you can and haven't already. It took me several of them over several years to be taken seriously, and I'm going to follow up with a separate post with some of the details on how I finally got through to the professionals, in case that's helpful. Another change in my life is that I've relocated, moving out of state after (mostly) living where I come from into my adult years. Being away from all the places and things that pull me back into old traumas and outdated anxieties has helped A LOT. Of course, moving isn't a solution for everyone, and it requires some money and a lot of freedom, and it's stressful... my point is really just that external circumstances play a big role in how we feel and behave and it's worth making whatever positive changes you can. They won't "fix" your derma, but if you can focus on some of your other goals you may find that you're picking less. But of course, change just triggers some people, so it's very important to take what you know about yourself into account on this one. Now, to address the question I deleted, I'm gonna lay out a bunch of the strategies that were working for me before all that: I read a post by someone in the derma community several years ago recommending the book The Four Day Win by Martha Beck, and read it. I wish I remembered who suggested this or where, so I could give credit, but this was probably 5 years back and I have no idea. It's a diet book, but many of the chapters apply to reducing any behavior that you're trying to break out of, and adapt well to skin picking. I had a hard time pushing through the book because I'm extremely anti-diet and firmly believe that advocating dieting is also advocating eating disorders. Several members of my family have struggled with eating disorders, so there were times when I wanted to throw this book across the room, but ultimately I found it helpful. You can probably get a copy from your local library if you want to read it, but I'm also going to give a capsule version here of what I found helpful/adapted from the book for my own use. The premise is that instead of setting ourselves up for failure by trying to do something difficult *indefinitely* (sticking to a diet or not picking, for example), we only commit to four days at a time, and give ourselves a reward when we complete a four day cycle. The rewards, for me, were something small and concrete, usually buying myself something inexpensive that I wanted. When the four days was up, I was allowed to pick all I wanted, but then would start another four days of not picking right after. If four days is too long to manage, you can always use shorter times. I would often do 3 days, but if 2 or even 1 whole day is more realistic for you it's more important to set a very specific time and then reward yourself at the end. You have to be consistent with the reward, not giving yourself the reward anyway if you do pick, and not sacrificing it (to save money or whatever) if you do make your goal. It's like training an animal, except we are the animal we're training. Make sure your rewards aren't anything you pretty much need, since that becomes a system of punishments for not making it, and in order to work this has to be a system of rewards for doing well. It's an entirely positive system. I would sometimes get myself a larger reward if I didn't pick (or barely picked) between 3 or 4 day no-picking periods, but didn't plan ahead for that because you really need to keep your mind on the short term when doing this. If I did pick when I wasn't supposed to, I would sometimes give myself a reduced version of the original reward if I made it to the end of the original 4 days without doing it again. For instance, if I was going to buy a new set of paint brushes, I might scale it back to choosing an individual brush. Or if I felt like it was realistic, I would start another 4 days immediately after lapsing. Being as realistic as possible is important for this one. Another thing I would do is keep a log of where on my body I was picking, when, how many individual spots I was going at, and any particularly pertinent facts like an unusual mood or triggering event. I was putting it in the calendar on my phone so the time was recorded automatically, and I had a system of abbreviations that kept it easy. An entry might read "f4, a2 (blood), s4. Very anxious", which would mean I picked at 4 spots on my face, 2 on my arms to the point of drawing blood, and 4 spots on my shoulders, and that I was experiencing an unusual degree of anxiety. I would differentiate between my arms and shoulders because my shoulders are a particular problem area for me, but I also pick at my scalp sometimes, so I would indicate my scalp with an "h" for head, since "s" was shoulders. If I picked at an area enough that I couldn't say a specific number of spots, I would just say "bad", like "a2, sbad, l3" would mean I picked 2 spots on my arms and 3 on my legs and really took it out on my shoulders. Of course, you would adapt your log to what is most pertinent or useful for you. The log served a few purposes. For one, just having more awareness can be really helpful, also I would actually sometimes hold off on picking just because if I did it, I would have to acknowledge it in writing. I would sometimes stop myself in time to put down a number instead of "bad". It also makes it easier to see when you've been doing pretty well lately, and feel good about it. Prepping to pick helped too, instead of denying that I was going to do it until the very last minute and then going at it impulsively. I would get home at night or in the afternoon and wash my hands with antibacterial soap first thing, then rinse my face and put on a face mask that I could keep on for a couple hours. Its best if you can do that without being in front of a mirror, which could mean using your kitchen sink or covering your bathroom mirror. If you can't do that, try not to even glance at the mirror if you can manage. I got pretty good at keeping my eyes down completely while going through this routine. When I eventually had to rinse off the mask, if I did get sucked into picking at least my hands and face were clean and the skin on my face was in pretty good shape so the damage was minimized and the spots I picked at wouldn't flare up and get infected from getting all the dirt you pick up outside in them (gross, I know). Honey works pretty well in place of commercial face masks, cause it's a physical barrier and great for your skin, but you have to be more committed to avoiding mirrors, since you can still see your skin through honey. Besides face masks/honey, there were other physical barriers that helped. Pretty much everyone comments on this, but it bears repeating. I would wear shirts at home that were tight in the sleeves so getting at my shoulders wasn't convenient, which honestly is something I need to get back in the habit of doing. As you can probably tell from all the past-tense, I'm doing well lately, but my arms and shoulders are what I go for most when I do pick. If there were only a couple visible spots on my face, I would cover them with band-aids, and I would sometimes wear gloves at home. I've also made lists for myself of anything that's helpful, meaning both practical tips and alternatives to picking (even if they sound dumb or obvious), and information that it's helpful for me to remind myself of. I have an old list in front of me right now, and some of the suggestions on it are super simple, but were actually helpful for whatever reason. Some of them actually strike me as kind of self-shaming now, but inspired me at the time. Whatever works, I guess. Here are some of the items from the list (the not-shamey ones): Wait it out. Later is better than now. Drink some water. Have a snack. Take a nap. Put on long sleeves. Consciously remember not to do it. Turn out the lights. Watch a movie. Read a book. Listen to music. This is an outgrown coping mechanism. This is an internalization of being "picked on." I don't want to let people who have treated me unfairly manifest themselves in me. DON'T do "just one" (it's never just one). Relapse is a normal part of recovery, and it doesn't determine the future. Adherence is the goal, but near-adherence is almost as good. If I can't do 100%, I can try for 90%, or 75%. It's still worth maintaining, even if it's not perfect. No comment made by any idiot is my problem. Relax and breathe. Remember to eat, sleep, and play music. I really don't need to touch my face at all except for daily skincare. Even MH "just stopped". I'll explain that last item. It's a reference to Marya Hornbacher's memoir, Wasted. Marya had a severe eating disorder for years, to the point that it almost killed her (you may know this part, it's been a popular title for a while...) Like I said, my family history is peppered with eating disorders, so I've put in my due diligence reading up on them. She reaches the point of almost dying, and then -like some kind of miracle- she "just stops" the behavior that would otherwise have taken her life. The reason I included that as a kind of affirmation isn't because I think my picking will "just stop", but rather because it's such an extreme example of how people sometimes turn a corner in their struggles and start to get better, no matter how bleak their future looked during their darkest times. Anyway, making lists like this are helpful if you can include whatever helps YOU to remember, not what helps someone else, or only things you don't think are obvious. If it's obvious and it helps you, put it on the list. If it's not clear why exactly it's relevant but it helps you, put it on the list. Then keep your list someplace handy, like on your wall or taped to your desk, or in the back of your journal. I hope some of this helps y'all, sorry it's 5 miles long, but I wanted to include everything I could think of. Love you all. Best.

How The Sopranos Changed TV Analysis Forever

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When The Sopranos first aired over 20 years ago, audiences had never before seen that type of complex storytelling on the small screen. The program was acclaimed for its otherworldly acting and intricate attention to detail, but there were individuals outside of the Sopranos set that helped audiences understand a show that was much more dense and rich than anything that had ever come before it. Without widespread Internet access and with social media not even a mere thought in anybody’s imagination, it was up to pioneering TV analysts to make sense of this new type of prestige television that HBO was letting into our homes.

There is arguably no journalist who has covered The Sopranos in greater depth for the last two decades than Alan Sepinwall. Now Rolling Stone’s chief TV critic, Sepinwall helped shape the narrative of television discourse just as Sopranos creator David Chase forged a revolutionary subject to evaluate. The New Jersey native started his career writing at the Newark Star-Ledger, putting him in an intimate position to cover The Sopranos close to the show’s setting. He went on to write The Sopranos Sessions with Matt Zoller Seitz, a collection of episodic analyses and interviews with show creators that is now viewed as one of the definitive documents covering the series. Due to these resume highlights, his presence covering The Many Saints of Newark is a must heading into the theater to see the film. 

Den of Geek spoke with Sepinwall via email for a wide-ranging discussion on his personal ties to the New Jersey area, how TV journalism was shaped by HBO’s megahit and vice versa, and how the analysis landscape has evolved in the last 20 years. 

You famously got your start writing for the same paper Tony Soprano picked up from his driveway each morning on The Sopranos. How much did this personal connection to the Jersey universe in the show affect your career trajectory and do you think you would have become the same type of critic without these ties?

Oh, I was incredibly lucky. Right place, right time. It’s a bit like being the music writer for the Liverpool Daily Post when The Beatles started playing at the Cavern Club in 1962. Not only did the show reach out to The Star-Ledger for help designing those fake newspapers, but one of my editors had gone to Rutgers with Jim Gandolfini, and I grew up one town over (and a few decades later) from David Chase. So there were all these connections that gave me better access and a broader base of knowledge. And then the morning after the show ended, David liked and trusted me enough to very reluctantly give me the only interview he gave about the finale for a long, long time. The show put me on the map, and my focus on it over those later seasons made me a better critic. 

We’ve always wondered how you are able to separate what your favorite shows are from what you think the best shows are. Is it hard to not show bias towards The Sopranos in your writing because of your longstanding history with it?

I’ve criticized plenty of episodes of the show, and even whole seasons at times. (Though revisiting the show when I co-wrote The Sopranos Sessions made me look more fondly on, say, season four.) I think there’s a degree to which I know the show so well at this point that I probably look at it differently from more casual viewers, but I’ve never felt in the tank for it. 

Do you think David Chase waited too long to make The Many Saints of Newark? There is a good amount of interest in the film, but could there have been more if it was made more recently after the series finale?

I think the movie is actually coming along at a very good time. Sopranos had a huge moment during the pandemic when it seemed like everyone was using the quarantine as an excuse to either watch the show for the first time or rewatch it for the first time in years. A whole new generation discovered the show and will appreciate Many Saints in a way they wouldn’t have if the movie had come, say, 5 or 6 years ago. And also, it allowed Michael Gandolfini to mature into an actor capable of playing the young Tony as well as he does in the film. 

Do you think Tony Soprano’s template for anti-heroes was ultimately a good thing for society at large? Bad men being depicted as badasses on TV was almost too abundant in the years after The Sopranos, but did the ones who actually got it right pay off at large in your opinion?

I think there is definitely a degree to which our lauding of bad guys like Tony or Walter White helped make more recent political developments possible. Sopranos and the shows it inspired encouraged people to root for assholes provided they were interesting or charismatic enough. 

Do you think The Sopranos, in general, has aged well? Do you think it has been surpassed in any way by more modern storytelling, or are the elements that made it special in 1999 still going as strong as ever? Will the film prove in any way that this universe is timeless?

When Matt Seitz and I started working on The Sopranos Sessions, I was terrified that the show would feel dated, and/or like an inferior copy of the many series that copied it over the last two decades. Instead, the opposite happened. Not only did the show hold up, but I wound up enjoying a lot of it even more than I did the first time around. (Again, see season four.) My appreciation for Jim Gandolfini in particular went way up, to where I stopped considering him on the same level with Bryan Cranston, Ian McShane, et al, and felt comfortable saying he was head and shoulders above any other dramatic performance in TV history. Sopranos was so far ahead of the curve, and so many of its imitators only copied the superficial aspects of it, that when you get exposed to the real deal, it’s still incredible. 

What has been the biggest difference you’ve noticed in your readers’ reception to your Many Saints of Newark writing compared to your Sopranos stuff back in the day? Have audiences grown more intelligent through the years which allows you to dive deeper in your analysis, or is the market oversaturated now which makes it harder for striking criticism to stand out?

The big difference so far is that the movie’s not out yet. Over time, The Sopranos became a show where my most notable writing appeared after individual episodes were available. I’m planning to do something similar about Many Saints when it comes out. But audiences are definitely expecting deeper analysis of television — or, in this case, of films based on TV shows — than what the media was doing when Sopranos debuted. 

The Sopranos was a landmark series for countless reasons, with one of the more important ones being that the depth of the material allowed for TV criticism to really capitalize on its unique qualities and expand exponentially as a medium. But perhaps journalists like yourself don’t get enough credit in making audiences understand that what they were watching was important. How bidirectional was the relationship between the show’s popularity and the analysis of it?

Over the years, the best compliment my writing has gotten has been when someone tells me they didn’t fully appreciate everything a show or episode was doing until they read my take on it. I think shows like Sopranos or Breaking Bad or The Wire are so obviously great that they don’t need analysis from me or anyone else. But I feel like the explosion in TV criticism inspired by shows like them wound up enhancing the experience for viewers who wanted to dig deeper than what they got from watching alone. 

What is the biggest difference you have noticed in your job requirements between covering shows for Rolling Stone now and reporting on them back in New Jersey for the Star-Ledger? Has covering The Many Saints of Newark brought back nostalgia for earlier in your career?

Leaving aside the very seismic economic changes to the media business in general, the biggest difference is expectations. People want more coverage, and they want it to be more in-depth and thoughtful than what was happening at the start of my career in the mid-’90s. The very idea of writing about shows and movies for people to read after they watched felt largely alien back then. Now it’s a huge part of how people cover and consume media. 

It was also really exciting and surprising to be back in Sopranos country again after so long. (David) Chase is always a fascinating — if challenging — interview subject, and I got to do the kind of in-depth interview with Michael Gandolfini that I never got the chance to with his press-shy dad. It’s been wonderful. 

Do people go to you for Sopranos stuff in ways that they wouldn’t for other reporters in the industry? Has this helped you career-wise, like when you get to do big features for Rolling Stone for the Many Saints of Newark? Do cast and creators on the show view you as an authority on the show the way readers do?

Rolling Stone has a fantastic group of movie writers, but they asked me to handle a lot of their Many Saints coverage. And I’ve been happy to function as a human Sopranos Wiki for friends and fellow critics who have been boning up on the show to prep for the movie. There were even a few times conducting interviews with the Many Saints creative team where someone like (director) Alan Taylor would joke that I knew parts of the show better than they did. As areas of expertise go, it’s not a bad one to have. 

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Who is your favorite person from the show to interview throughout the years? Do you have a favorite interview you have done with someone from The Sopranos universe?

The Michael Gandolfini profile I did for Rolling Stone is one of my favorite things I’ve ever written in my whole career. But Chase is the best interview, in part because he’s so tough that it forces me to sharpen every question to a razor point, in part because he has just thought so deeply about every aspect of the show, and now of the movie. I always feel like I’ve gone ten rounds in the ring with David, but it always feels worth the effort. 

The post How The Sopranos Changed TV Analysis Forever appeared first on Den of Geek.

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Dude do you have any tips for writing fight scenes using the lions because I am utterly blanking, I have no idea how to write a fight scene

For the most part, Iwrite battles that involve the lions the same way I write battles onfoot, so I’m going to start with some general tips and then give afew pointers for the lions specifically at the end.

1)Establish the stakes and the odds.

Beforeyou even start writing the battle, know the context. Know why itmatters. In visual media—film, TV, comics—you can get away withmindless action if it’s pretty enough. With writing, you don’thave that advantage. Some people have a talent for vivid actionscenes, so they can come close (see Brandon Sanderson), but noteveryone can manage it.

The good news? You can have anaction-heavy story without relying entirely on the imagery. The keyis to make each action scene count.

First, establish the stakes. Why dothe characters need to fight? Why can’t they employ any otherstrategy? What do they lose if they fail or have to pull out? The mostimportant thing about writing fights is to make us care about theoutcome.

Second, consider the odds. Ifvictory is a foregone conclusions, do you really need to show thebattle? If you do, it should be brief. Fights where your heroes arethe underdogs are generally more interesting. You can, of course, setup a fight that shouldbe an easy win and have something go wrong. In fact, I encourage youto do so. Which brings us to

2)Battles should be dynamic, both in the details and on a larger scale.

You’re probably already thinkingabout how to make the actual fight interesting, but before you get tothat, think about the big picture. You set up a scenario, but thenwhat? Do the two sides just show up, trade bullets/lasers/punches,and then one side wins?

That works sometimes, especially insmall clashes with relatively unimportant enemies. But with biggerbattles or battles that involve a major antagonist, you’re going towant to do more. Havereinforcements show up, have the villain try a risky gambit. Have theheroes switch to adesperate Plan B (or Plan M.) Let the heroes defeat the enemy, onlyfor another enemy to show up.

I like to look at my battles instages. Minor battles typically only have one stage. Major but notclimactic battles might have two or three stages. Climactic battleshave a minimum of three, sometimes many more. For example:

Stage 1: Heroes are gatheringinformation in preparation for a battleStage 2: The enemiesdiscover the heroes, leading to a frantic battle as the heroes try toretreat/fortify their positionStage 3: Heroes formulate a newplan and enact itStage 4: One of the heroes isseparated from the team, maybe injured, and suddenly is in a desperate fight for their lifeStage 5: Heroes areabout to accomplish their goal when the villains launch a secondaryattack, forcing them to adapt to the new challengeAnd so on

If you’re just throwing in alittle bit of action and don’t want to do a whole big battle, maybeyou only include stage 3. For a little bit longer battle, you coulddo stages 1-3, or maybe stages 3 and 5. Including all five stageswould make it longer still, and as you write you might find otherchallenges to throw at the characters.

Another way to make things dynamicis to have the battle happen on multiple fronts and to jump back andforth between them. Short scenes ending in min-cliffhangers keep thetempo quick and the tension high. It might take some practice tojuggle multiple fronts, so start small—maybe pick two people, onefrom each front, to focus on and jump back and forth. Reallylarge-scale battles might have half a dozen fronts or more, and youmight rotate among the POV characters present at each front, butthat’s something to work your way up to. (Also, outlines reallyhelp for juggling lots of simultaneous action.)

3) Don’t giveus a blow-by-blow.

At least, not all the time. There are moments where blow-by-blow canbe used to great effect, but if you use it too much, it’ll justslow you down. Think of it like slow mo in a movie—it can make adramatic hit stand out, but an entire fight shown in slow mo probablywouldn’t work. Use them sparingly--for the “Oh, shit, something bad is about to happen” moments or the “Hell yeah!” cathartic shots.

Instead, you want to capture the flowof battle. Use short, vivid images; let us know whohas the upper hand, who’s struggling, whether or not people aretaking injuries/ships are taking damage. Don’t linger on thescenery, but show us how the battle is progressing through space.

4)It’s not always about the fighting.

I write a lot of big, action-heavystories, but when you look at it, there’s not nearly as muchfighting as you might expect. There are other ways to up the tensionand energy that aren’t necessarily battles—you can doinfiltration, arguments, suspense, ect.And even when you do have a battle, you can (and should!) break it upwith conversations, strategy discussions, momentary lulls in thefighting that allow for reflection or sudden understanding. Someonecan get wounded/their ship can be knocked out and they have towithdraw from the battle momentarily.

It’s hard to give specificsuggestions here, because so much of this point depends on thesituation you’ve set up (in a specific scene or across the wholestory.) The important thing to remember is that for the most part,and doubly so in fanfic, people are reading for the characters.Action is great, but don’t lose sight of the people in the middleof the battle. What do they want? How do they feel?

You’ll have to be concise withwhatever you do sprinkle in so you don’t slow the pacing down toomuch, but dialogue, internal monologue, and other breaks from pureadrenaline-fueled fight will ultimately heighten the drama.

Lion-specifictips

The thing about Voltron is…Voltron itself isridiculously overpowered. It works in a cartoon because you get somepretty action sequences and some nice explosions, but in fic, thatgets boring fast. But you can’t ignore that it exists, because thepaladins aren’t going to make things harder than they need to be.Which means if you want to keep things interesting, you either needto create a challenge that even Voltron will struggle with, or youneed to come up with a legitimate reason for them not to formVoltron. Maybe that means giving the team two targets, maybe it meansone of the paladins isn’t in their lion for whatever reason.

Aside from the Voltron conundrum,the main difference between fighting on the ground and fighting inthe air is the kinds of risk the characters are faced with and thekind of challenges you can throw at them. On the ground, injury is avery real danger, and it’s comparatively easy to split the group upor to give them tasks they have to do (hacking, leading prisoners tosafety, sabotaging a weapon…)

In the lions, you’re one stepremoved from all that. It’s possible for the paladins to get hurtstill, but more often the risk is that the lions will get hit badenough to impact their performance. This could mean the shields aredown, the comms are jammed, the stabilizers aren’t working… Or itcould mean the lion is out of commission entirely. Whatever the case,the paladin can (and should!) react to this, though it might meanthey won’t be able to focus on the battle as much.

They can also still have differenttasks, but they might lookdifferent. The lions are mostly only useful for transport or forfighting, so unless its something that can be done remotely, anyspecific tasks are probably going to require some of the paladins tostrike out on foot.

The best thing about writinglion-based fights is getting to be a little more over the top thanusual. The lions are tough, and they have some badass weapons—so goahead and have Yellow headbutt a Galra cruiser. Let Red melt throughan ion cannon with her fire breath. Invent new abilities and play aroundwith them. The lions aren’t invincible, but they are incrediblytough.

Which brings up another point: in aground battle, the paladins’ lives are basically always on theline. The same mightbe true inside the lions, but not to the same degree. So if they’rein the lions, you need to put someone or something else at risk. Aplanet, a base… Or something more abstract. Maybe this fight is allabout buying time so some allies can enact a plan to sabotage aweapon or something. Something so that failure is a real possibilityand has real consequences.

I’m sure there’s a lot more to be said about writing fight scenes, but hopefully that helps you get started!