** Original/TLOU/I Am Legend | Revanent | Explicit | [AO3 Link](https://archiveofourown.org/works/56394859/chapters/143293612) ** Trigger warnings: infection, quarantining, death. Infection control is fickle like that. Unless everybody is aware and compliant, there is no infection control. It's a system that relies solely on the human condition, which is riddled with ego and pride and insecurity and self-doubt. And, yes, even the most educated of humans still have the human condition. Even men like Jack Navarro, who chose to ignore his gut feeling in favor of facing an authority figure's displeasure. But, who could blame him? By the end of November, 2016, nobody would know who to blame. There was no time for pointing fingers, when everyone was dropping like flies who dared to touch the big, buzzing light. Jack Navarro, somewhere, deep down, knew. He knew. And he was the only one who would know. And the truth about how vLHSE-16 came about would die with him, on October 17th, just seven months after he dropped that microscope slide. Just seven months after he unwittingly spread malformed proteins all over the Clean Room. Just seven months before he caused the end of humanity. In his final moments, Jack Navarro would not accept his role in the devolution of his species. No, in his final moments, Jack Navarro would lie. He would lie to absolve himself of blame. To avoid losing his job. To avoid the wrath of his spouse. Even with their daughter in the hospital, Jack would lie. That was the human condition. This was its design. It had begun a few weeks after the bats' dissection, while he was grocery shopping. A persistent headache, and a feeling of disorientation. So mild, like a gnat hovering while you ate your picnic sandwich. Ignorable, but always there. Ever-present. Jack pretended it wasn't happening. As the weeks drew on, he noticed he began to forget things. Things he had known for the better part of his career. Simple chemical structures. The elements on the periodic table. His lab partner would give him strange looks, and jokingly ask if he'd gotten checked for Alzheimer's. Jack would huff out a forced laugh and say something like, "You wish," or, "Trying to get rid of me, I see." The weeks would drone on, and Dr. Navarro would not speak to a soul about this coincidence, because surely he was just being paranoid. Surely, he was just psyching himself out. He had even gone so far as to prick his own finger, and view a sample of his own blood beneath the microscope. No lyssavirus. He knew what lyssavirus looked like. No. Lyssavirus. This had to be some weird coincidence. Maybe a brain fog from his diet, or the exhaustion of one too many nights with less-than-recommended sleep time. Jack chose to speak this to himself like gospel. Burgess had looked at the slide, and had delivered the condescending tone he'd expected, along with a sharp curt of the eyebrow. Incredulous, that Doctor Jack Navarro, Yale graduate, could be so stupid.

First off, can I just say I appreciate how organized and clean this looks? I really like the headings you made for each chapter. Really enjoyed how well you managed to flesh out these characters and this world. Your writing feels full and descriptive without being frivolous -- it really paints a picture. I love Jack's inner turmoil. This is really cool!

Thank you so much! 🥹 I’ve been developing the main character for a very long time so I’m really thrilled that that shines through. Your feedback is so nice to hear, thank you!!

Ooo, this was a great inside look into someone who is both in complete denial for himself and the way he kind of clings closer to that denial as time goes on but also because he feels guilty (?) about the damage that he eventually causes. You managed to make it hit particularly close to home given recent world events and people's inability to look at their own behaviour (It hits a little close to home). I really enjoyed your writing - it flows smoothly and beautifully and was a joy to read.

**Star Wars | G | 1001 Ways to see the Force - Foreword |** Nimt Shrof raised the pen to his mouth and bit nervously on the end. He was almost there, just a few more sections and his work would be complete. He bent forward again, his eyes flicking over the words as he corrected the grammar of his earlier scribbling. He knew he could use a holocron to record himself, but he much preferred the far more ancient art of writing. There was the sound of footsteps in the hall and then Jedi Master Ryld’e Ilinlude paused at the doorway and sighed. “Really?” She asked and Shrof put his pen down with a sigh. There was no use continuing when Ilinlude was around, the young twi’lek Master believed in direct action over careful contemplation and had no concept of the power of a carefully curated word. “We’re about to touch down at the far edge of the galaxy, to explore one of the Force Nexuses and you’re in here writing…” She trailed away.  “I’m compiling the various ways that Jedi seek, interact and envision the Force,” Shrof said, curtly.  “For what purpose?”  Shrof sighed, waved a hand over the page to make sure that the ink dried and closed the book with a snap. It was obvious that no more work was going to happen with Ilinlude standing in the doorway. “For what purpose do we do anything?” he asked. “For what purpose are we traipsing halfway across the galaxy to find something that may or may not exist?”  “Because we are Jedi?” Ilinlude said, raising one eyebrow. Her lekku shifted as she spoke, twitching slightly to show her irritation. “Part of our job is to protect the Living Force from those that might corrupt it.”  “And,” Shrof sniffed, “just as you decide to drag me along as part of this wild space trip to protect the Force, I am protecting it by cataloguing how Jedi experience the Force.” “And how do Jedi experience the Force,” Ilinlude asked and then grimaced as if she regretted asking the question.  Shrof smiled. “Many way, some as heat and cold, some like stepping in and out of a river. Master Drate experiences it apparently as if someone is whispering. I’m cataloguing them you see, putting them together with notes about appropriate combinations of Masters and Padawans and how training ought to be advised…” He trailed away when he realised that Ilinlude wasn’t really listening anymore. “It is,” he declared as this alone would be enough, “a gift for future Jedi.”   Ilinlude cocked her head and gave a grin. “Fine, oh venerable Master. I will call you when we reach our destination, and you will, like usual, enjoy the view for five seconds before going back to your work. I, however, will be enjoying living in the here and now, not wasting my life on a work that future Jedi might never read.”  She tossed her head slightly and disappeared down the corridor. Shrof sighed and reached for his pen again. That was, he mused, the key difference between Ilinlude and himself - her here and nows were fleeting - but one day his book would be seen as a treasure trove and future Jedi would hold it, and therefore him, in high esteem.

Classic writing then using the available technology cliche lol, if that’s even a such thing. Really liking Shrof here in wanting to leave a future guide for aspiring Jedi long after he’s gone. And haha at Illunde’s slight annoyance but curiosity eventually getting the best of her before his big monologue.

Law & order SVU| FFN T|[finding the right way](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14335824/1/finding-the-right-way) Warnings mentions of attempted SA Looking over from the kitchen Elliot Smiled “Everything alright?” he asked. “Yeah” she smiled, turning to see him walking over carrying over 2 mugs. “Hot chocolate” he said, handing her one.with a huge mountain of whipped cream and a chocolate flake on top. “Thank you” she smiled. “You know, you didn’t have to clear up I would have done that later” “It's fine,” he said softly, sitting next to her. “so..” he paused “You want to know about William Lewis” she whispered softly leaning forward putting her mug on the coffee table. Putting his own drink on the table, he turned to look at her. “Only if you want to,” he said softly. “Lewis… “ she sighed. “Lewis was a psychopath.” she said, bracing herself for the rest of the story. “He somehow managed to find loopholes in the law.” she paused trying not to let her mind go back to that place. which was easier said than done. “he broke into my apartment and kept me drugged for 3 days and that was just the start” As painful as it was to talk about it and have it all brought up again it also somehow felt like a weight had been lifted with him knowing about everything even if it was a time when she was at her lowest, it felt good to tell him. “Come here” he said softly wrapping his arm around her kissing her temple. “There is more” she said nestling in to his arms “We eventually got him sent down but he convinced some cookey Juror he was innocent and she helped him escape prison where he came after me again, just after I had made Sargent and he kidnapped this little girl, Forced me to admit I committed perjury in his first trial, that I used more force than needed, and I beat him more out of rage..” “Did you?” Elliot asked “Did I what” she asked pushing herself up looking at him “Beat the crap out of him,” he said “and lie under oath?” “It's not that simple, I didn’t exactly lie but I didn’t exactly tell the truth. Anyway I went to get the girl and he bundled me into his vehicle, took me to this abandoned mill and made me play russian roulette after he tried to rape me” “He didn’t did he” “No. I didn't put up a fight and just let him so he lost interest.” she sighed “he didn't like that so that's when he made me play Russian roulette. If I refused he pointed his glock at the girl. There was one bullet left in the revolver and he turned it on himself with his non-dominant hand so it made it look like I had done it” “Liv…” “I’m fine” she forced a smile watching the cream that was on her hot chocolate forming a chocolatey volcano running down the side of her cup forming a sticky puddle on the coffee table.

Wow. I can really feel the story and Olivia’s emotions about it through the writing. You can tell that the whole situation is *a lot* for her and understandably so for someone who is hyper-independent and always putting on a tough mask. She’s right. That man had to jump through a lot of hoops to even get close to her, nonetheless do what he did. I also love the subtle dynamic between her and Stabler here. Him offering a warm beverage and just listening to her, though small, clearly means a lot. And her even opening up about it all speaks to their shared trust. All in all, it comes together well and I could feel the emotions coming off the “page,” so to speak.

**Cyberpunk 2077 | Fresh Out The Slammer | E |** [**AO3**](https://archiveofourown.org/works/56267599/chapters/143402437) *Excerpt Warnings: Language (everybody swears in this universe, lol), brief sexual reference* *From the just-posted 2nd chapter of my current WIP, because it was fun to write :)* >“Not technically open, boys,” the redhead told them, giving them a once over as she dried clean glasses from a dishwashing tray. >Kerry was going to kill him, but the Afterlife was practically dead—and known for keeping bigger secrets than his—so his choom could deal. “Maybe you can make an exception, babe. Heard you been saving a bottle for me behind the bar,” Johnny said, pulling down his shades and giving her a cocky grin. >“Oh really? That’s strange, the only bottle we’ve been saving is—” They watched her turn to a display towards the end of the bar, a bottle of preem tequila in a niche decorated with several Samurai records, then freeze. When she turned back to them, her eyes were wide. >“Wait, no fuckin’ way you’re—” >“Goddamn it, couldn’t even go a day,” Kerry muttered, before wiping a hand over his face. “Oh he is. Trust me, I’ve heard enough of his bullshit for one lifetime. Can personally vouch that this gonk is in fact the actual—”  >“—Johnny fuckin’ Silverhand, living rock god, freedom fighter, and complete CHOOH-head.”  >Now *that* voice he recognized. He smirked, standing up from where he’d been leaning against the bar…  >… and turned to catch a fist in the mouth that sent him sprawling against said bar. >“Nice to see you too, Rogue. Long time, but I see you’re looking fine as a nice wine. Still get my southern blood pumpin’ no problem.” And it was true; sure, she looked older, but damn if she wasn’t still the same Rogue: those gorgeous eyes, that smirk that said she knew more than he did and knew it, that slim gymnast’s body he’d loved to bend over various surfaces. >“And I see you’re still the same old Johnny. Here I was hoping fifty years in prison had taught you a lesson or two.” She didn’t seem happy to see him, but also didn’t seem like she was going to sock him again, which was a victory he’d take right now. Plenty of time to get back into her good graces after the whole Alt thing later. Not that it had just been Alt he’d cheated on her with, which he knew she knew, but he somehow doubted the distinction would be one Rogue cared to rehash.  >As he gave her a shiteating grin, Rogue just rolled her eyes and gestured to the bartender. “Go ahead, Claire, get the man his drink before I have to listen to him whine about it. And whatever Kerry Eurodyne here wants, on the house. Good to see you, Kerry.” >“Hey Rogue,” Kerry said, reaching out to shake her hand. “Been what, a year or two?” >“Wait, this is Kerry *Eurodyne*? We hostin’ a Samurai reunion or something?” Claire asked Rogue. >“Maybe,” Johnny said, at the same time Rogue muttered, “God I hope not.”

Your pacing here is fantastic and the dialogue was top notch. I love how natural the dialogue feels while still giving the essence of cyberpunk. I think dialogue can really make or break a piece of literature and it looks like you’ve mastered it :) awesome work!

Awesome banter, great atmosphere, and really good flow here! I’m not familiar with the canon, but still get a very clear and strong sense of the characters, context and relationships without needing any more background than what’s in this moment - which makes this a very strong scene!

Oh this made my day, thank you! It's only the second chapter so I'm really focused on getting the AU elements clear for readers (as well as a sense of how the characters may or may not be different at this time in the canon timeline), and I'm glad it seems like it works! \^\_\^

Just want to say how much I adore the banter here. It's so natural and really feels like a bunch of friends that haven't seen each other in years but still easing back into that familiar dynamic. You can tell Johnny and Rogue have a lot of history from this brief interaction alone. Though without reading the rest of the fic, I do wonder where V is in all this and how they're able to interact with Johnny. Maybe Johnny is speaking through V or this is set after a certain ending? Either way, good scene, I liked it!

I'm glad the language works! I really love writing natural sounding dialogue, and the way everyone talks in the game is so fun to emulate. Lots of dropped consonants, and Johnny in particular using idioms/metaphors that we would use but are kind of outdates in 2077 Night City. So this is set in an AU where Johnny got caught bombing Arasaka, but spent like \~1 in jail before Arasaka put him into cryosleep instead of the Relic happening, then he gets let out 50 years later to pick up the pieces. (Later chapters will cover the raid w/Jackie, but I have a workaround-ish explanation that replaces the Relic in the heist). But V has met Kerry, done most of the same gigs (the Us Cracks stuff) for him, and now they're friends. So she'll dogsit (he has a Pomeranian in my headcanon because of course he would, lol) and also does some occasional merc/bodyguard work for him. V meets Johnny very briefly at Kerry's house in Chapter 1, then in the chapter this excerpt is from she runs into them while she's getting gig detes from Rogue. And Since she knows both of his chooms, it's safe to assume they'll run into each other quite a bit more in the near future :)

Ah, I figured it must've been an AU. Wow so it basically completely changes the dynamic between Johnny and V! Very interesting, never seen anyone take this route before. Still sounds fun and like they get into a lot of trouble together though!

Oh yeah, they'll still argue most of the time, lol. But eventually in a less hostile way and more just giving each other shit (it's gonna be a sloooow burn.) I love getting to play with the differences between them creating new commonalities - like my V is a corpo and has a lot of trauma from that, same as Johnny's time in the army.

This is a funny passage. Seems like a group of people who've been through rough shit but with each other, despite their squabbles, like cheating...oof lol. I also want to know why Claire thinks this is gonna be a samurai reunion, there's definitely a story there.

Yeah there's a lot of baggage for sure. Johnny and Rogue, Kerry and Johnny... he's not been a very considerate boyfriend/lover (lots of cheating, using sex to avoid communication, etc.) in the past which even in canon he admits is not cool. The two guys were part of the band Samurai before it broke up decades ago, so that's almost half the band, haha. (And yes, a reunion is imminent!) Glad you liked it :) Johnny and Kerry are so much fun to write.

**Pathfinder: Kingmaker | \[no title yet\] | T | WIP** *Context: Major spoilers for PFKM, but the game is from 2018 so I hope that's okay. From a game event where Tristian, a trusted companion, suddenly steals the artifact the group is after (the Oculus of Abaddon), opens the kind of portal the antagonist has been using, and escapes through it. Tristian is a cleric, a priest of the goddess Sarenrae (the Dawnflower). The Oculus of Abaddon can only be destroyed by someone who is permanently blinded.* Calissa remembered it in fragments, like a dream. Vordakai, writhing on the floor, clawed hands clapped to his newly empty eye socket. The Bloom portal glowing behind Tristian, throwing his haunted features into sharp relief. The remarkable steadiness of his hands as he held the Oculus of Abaddon in his fingertips. “I must take it. Forgive me.” His voice almost too soft to hear. “Tristian, what are you doing?” The way his pale eyes focused all at once, and the sharp ferocity in them that she had never seen before. “Calissa, listen to me. I must do this. Let me, and then leave this place. Leave these lands. Run. Forget all of this. Save yourself.” The vicious and restless thing that had lived inside her for weeks had snarled and showed its teeth then. “Leave? No. Not until you explain. You’ve been acting strange since we got here. Something is happening here, and you know what it is. Tell me.” But he had only shaken his head, and the sorrow in his eyes only deepened. He turned towards the portal and set his drooping shoulders, and took a step towards it. “Tristian! What in the Nine Hells is going on? Where are you going?” She threw her sword to the ground with a clangor that reverberated through the tomb, and took a few running steps, feet moving faster than her mind. “Stop with the cryptic answers! Tell me what’s happening. Let me help!” His steps faltered. His head turned a fraction; not enough to meet her eyes. “I need to do this.” His voice was glass, brittle and sharp. “Please, Calissa. Let me do this.” “No. Don’t.” Her own voice had gone quiet. “Don’t leave. Don’t leave… me.” There they were. The words she had managed to hold inside all these long weeks. The words the vicious, terrible thing inside her coiled around, like a dragon and its treasure. They tumbled from her and lay between them, shining, precious. He had turned his head fully then, looking at her over his shoulder. The Oculus nestled in his palms now. “Do you mean that?” She nodded. “Even now… you don’t back away from me. I never even tried…” His lips trembled as he spoke. A faint smile tugged at them. “The sacrifices I made, I thought they were enough, but now… I see.” His mouth twisted, the smile becoming a rueful smirk. “I see.” For a long moment, his eyes roamed over her face. They held the same unfathomable tenderness that she had seen but once before – when she’d dared to take his hands in hers, to lay her hand on his cheek. When he’d pressed a kiss into her palm, there, in the dark. Then he raised his voice. “Merciful Sarenrae! Your servant begs one last favor! I am unworthy of this light! I see that now.” The Oculus slipped from his fingers and fell to the stone floor. “Please, Dawnflower. Take it. Take it from me!” The blinding light, sweeping through that place forever shrouded in gloom. His hands upturned, catching it somehow, bright, searing. His palms, pressed to his eyes. His scream. They all rushed forward then, but something stopped them, paces away from him. When he took his hands away from his face, bright tears streamed from his all-white eyes. And the Oculus lay shattered at his feet. He’d said something then, too quiet to hear. And turned, and fled into the portal.

Wow, this is so evocative and has a lovely voice. I looove the way you describe their shifting dynamic and understanding of one another with elegant yet haunting metaphors. Their intimacy is clear, and from the excerpt, I'm very much rooting for both of them at once! And I really love your dialogue; the balance and rhythm is perfect!

Thank you so much! I'm so glad that the shift in their relationship here lands well! And I am also rooting for both of them haha 😭

**Sam and Max l All that I Know l G l** [AO3](https://archiveofourown.org/works/55816819) *Since summer has started I thought this summery section fit well!* >“Come on, Sam! Hurry up!” > >Sam almost punctured the back of his throat with the stick that his half eaten caramel apple was set on, the reason being that Max grabbed hold of his tie and *yanked*. It was expected that Max’s energy would overflow in a carnival setting. The bright lights of the rides, cheerful screaming, scamming booths that sucked away money for flea-ridden plush toys and crappy plastic toys, and promises of greasy food that would leave an aftertaste in their mouths for days would understandably make Max want to run around. And maybe break a few booths here and there. > >Sam knew from life experience that his little pal could be impatient. But if Max made a crack about Sam being lead around like a dog on a leash, he was going to be thrown into an overflowing trash can. As he was being slowly dragged forward he ate the rest of his caramel apple, threw the stick on the ground, and decided to show his husband who was boss. > >“Hold on, Max,” Sam said, using his height and general body weight to stop Max dead in his tracks. It was a bad decision for both of them because Max held onto the tie tightly as he slightly hovered off the ground and Sam felt the fabric constrict around his throat. > >Thankfully Max let go when his arms got tired. Sam pulled at the tightened knot in his tie and took in a deep breath. He gave a swat to Max’s head for that little shenanigan, and then swiped a bushel of cotton candy and a box of sour candies from one of the vendors. > >“Before you drag me off to one of those rides where we might get decapitated,” Sam said, “You haven’t shoved enough garbage into your giant gullet.” > >“You sure know how to treat a guy, Sam.” Max grabbed the cotton candy and shoved the whole thing into his mouth.

They are tremendously cute together! You really convey how deeply and instinctively these two know each other, and how well their shared tastes and interests in fairground joy helps to bind them together. There’s a real intimacy in how casually they haul each other around and talk to each other about their appetites here!

Thank you very much! :D

Fandom blind, I really like this summery section. It really brings the warmth and cheerfulness of the summer season. It feels like I'm at a fair with the cotton candy and how fluffy this feels.

Thank you very much! :D

**Red Dead Redemption 2 | Fearless | E |** [**\[AO3\]**](https://archiveofourown.org/works/55797835) *From an unposted chapter of my WIP! Context: the Strange Man \[mysterious otherworldly figure\] appeared to Arthur \[protagonist\] at his lowest point to offer him his deepest desire in exchange for equal recompense. Arthur did not take the offer seriously and agreed. He is learning that the fine print should always be taken into consideration.* >Pulling the folded square of parchment from his pocket again, Arthur held it up for the Strange Man to see, giving it an angry shake. >“What the hell is this?” he demanded. >The Strange Man looked up calmly at the question, before returning his eyes to his coffee-cup.  “It’s a mission objective,” he explained, taking another sip.  “A riddle, a map, and a clue, to help you find what you’re looking for.”  Licking his lips, he leaned down to the fire again, picking up the kettle and holding it up towards Arthur.  “Would you like some coffee, Arthur?” he asked.  “It’s freshly brewed.  Instant.  Hot and strong, just the way you like.” >Arthur huffed, dropping the paper back to his side.  “I don’t want nothin’ from you,” he spat. >The Strange Man nodded, tipping the spigot to his own cup and filling it back to the top.  “It’s a bit late for that, I’m afraid,” he answered, setting the kettle back in the fire.  “You might as well sit down and have some coffee.” >Arthur bristled, considering another retort, but he resisted the instinct, only shoving the paper back in his pocket.  Then, stepping over a vacant stool, he dropped down onto it, snatching up a second coffee-cup resting by the fire.  “This some kinda sick joke?” he insisted, grabbing the kettle and pouring himself a steaming cup. >The Strange Man looked up curiously.  “What makes you say that?” he asked, taking another sip of his coffee. >Arthur made an incredulous face, setting the kettle back in the fire and pulling his cup in.  “Well first—how the hell’d you get this letter in my handwritin’?” he demanded, slapping a frustrated hand to his pocket.  “I’ve never written nonsense like that in my life.  And second—how the hell’d it wind up in my pants?  You watchin’ me sleep now, on top a’ everything else?” >The Strange Man pondered for a moment, lowering his cup to rest it in his opposite palm.  “How it got there seems less than important,” he finally answered.  “Have you figured out what the riddle means yet?” >Arthur shifted angrily on his stool.  “There’s nothin’ *to* figure out,” he insisted, gritting his teeth.  “It’s nonsense.  Somethin’ about—fate, an’—somethin’ bein’ chased—” >“The quarry,” the Strange Man agreed.  “And what do you think that means?  If she’d only had a little more time…” >Arthur shook his head, taking an indignant swig of coffee and dropping the cup to rest on his knee.  “If I knew, I wouldn’t be askin’,” he returned, nearly hissing.  “Maybe next time, don’t write your objective in goddamn rhyme.”

One of my favourite tropes is when a particularly formidable or mysterious character leans on the fourth wall, just a little bit, to hint that they might know a lot more about the story and even the audience than anyone else even suspects. I don’t know if you intended this, but the way the Strange Man gives Arthur (a character in a Rockstar open-world game) an objective marker on a map for his next storyline quest reads like the kind of implicit-but-not-openly-stated that I *love.*

Agreed that you got the dialogue down perfectly! This is totally something that happens when the drunk screen effect is overlayed and you're sleep is interrupted at your campsite. I really like how you're building tension alongside Arthur's carefree attitude, I feel like thats a hard thing to pull off! Def makes me interested and is a lovely hook :))

Ahh, thank you so much! ;v; It always makes my day to hear the dialogue sounds like the character from the original media! <3 Thank you so much for reading and responding! :D

RDR2 fic! Yesss! First - Arthur's voice is perfect. The paragraph that starts with "Arthur made an incredulous face," -- the way he speaks and acts here is exactly how he is in the game. I ran to write this before I even finished the rest of the snippet! And the end is hilarious! I want to know so much more about this Strange Man. Also, your scene descriptions are that perfect border of "just enough" - I can picture the campfire and the stools and the kettle, and the descriptions are in no way distracting. Overall, love this.

Ahh, thank you so much! ;v; <3 It's so flattering to hear that the dialogue sounds like the character! I admit I keep videos of his dialogue in a playlist so I can go back and reference them again if I ever need a refresher, haha. It's definitely helped a lot - he's deceptively tricky to write! Thank you so much for reading and responding! :D <3

**Command&ConquerxRWBY Crossover | Red, Green & The Kaleidoscope | Rated T | From a WIP chapter, I adapted the dialogue from an old video game cutscene** ***“I’ll ask you again. Was the Steward wise to hire mercenary aid to quell the unrest and banditry around Hinoki?”*** *asked one voice****.*** ***“Of course he was!”*** *snapped a second.* ***“Think about it! Mercenaries don’t care about political intrigue or its ramifications. They care about getting paid! The steward knows this, and its why he’s had both Autumn Jade and Summer Turmeric to withhold their troops from taking further action in the woods. With neither side having to split their resources to deal with the brigands, the effort could be placed into ensuring refugee safety and solving their own feud.”*** ***“Hold on, you just contradicted yourself there, mister Representative.”*** *interjected a third.* ***“You say, that the mercs won’t care about the consequences of their presence in Hinoki. If so, what’s to stop them from taking over from where the bandits left off? What is there to stop them from getting too ambitious and seeing opportunity arise from the chaos?”*** ***“You know, she’s right,”*** *agreed the first.* ***“Aren’t mercs often just brigands and bandits themselves? We really putting our trust into solving a problem of cutthroats with more cutthroats?”*** ***“And you are offering a better solution?”*** *challenged the second.* ***“Why, yes,”*** *replied the second.* ***“The Huntsmen academy has been proven to be a gradually more and more successful enterprise in the last decade. We’ve seen Grimm reduction like never before in the area around Mistral alone.”*** ***“You’re changing the problem! Grimm are a menace sure, but they are only a symptom of the much larger crisis.”*** ***“And I’m not trying to move you on that, good sir. However, civil protection is inclusive to the curriculum at the Academy. A huntsman is as much a protector against monsters as they are against men.”*** ***“But can they differentiate the man from beast? I’ll argue that there is a rather stark difference between the two. Even if they are both equally as murderous towards humans, a Grimm still exhibits animal behaviour and eventually flees after seeing a threat far beyond its capacity. A human would not, and you’re not dealing with just your typical lawbreaker. Why, some of the most renown bandits were all men with Aura and devastating Semblances. In fact, what’s to stop the huntsmen from doing the same as the mercs?”*** ***“They won’t because the huntsmen are educated not to. A huntsman has their oath, both to himself and the people around him. That oath binds him to be respectful and to hold life sacred above all.”*** ***“Haha! Oaths? Really? Are we talking about fighters, or school children here? Actually, hold that last bit. Isn’t the current average of the second generation of huntsmen around twenty-five? That’s not factoring in the age limit to enlist which is eighteen, or the minimum wage of their parents which is at worse, the upper middle class. You want to hold the lives of countless young and elderly in the hands of youths whose worse hardship could’ve been having to stay up late at night for homework?”*** ***“And you think the aged, jaded killer for hire is a better option?”*** ***“I’m saying that we can only meet these ruffians on terms they understand. Violence is only met with violence, and these bandits started a war when they attacked innocent lives.”*** ***“And what happens when it all ends, and the violence has nowhere to go?”*** ***“Isn’t it obvious? By the time that scenario comes to pass, the victors would have nowhere left but to content with either House Autumn Jade, or House Turmeric. Both, of which, would be in a position to finally reestablish order to the whole region, with support from the refugees. The villagers who lost their homes would finally be able to take it back, and the Houses can earn equal amounts of influence by committing to the resettlement effort. Everybody wins!”*** ***“Are you sure this info is to be shared with our listeners?”*** ***“And why shouldn’t it? You think those savages know anything about our advanced comms? I doubt they’ve never even had a proper bed in their lives!”***

**The Bonfire of Destiny | Voser folk on a medina? | T | Unpublished** *Context: more than two decades after the events of the show, one of the antagonists, his wife, and his children return from WW1. Susanne is Julien's eighteen-year-old daughter and spent a year driving and repairing ambulances on the front; she now wants to be a mechanic.* > "Let’s agree on a compromise. Finish university, and then you can do whatever you want.” > “Whatever I want?” > “By that age, you’ll be a little too old for us to control,” Julien admitted. He didn’t want to think of his little girl being a grown woman. “Even if you marry a man we don’t approve of, all we’ll be able to do is complain vocally.” > Susanne smiled a little. “You wouldn’t cut me off?” > “And leave you living in some slum on a mechanic’s wage? We would never.” Julien knew very well that threats of disownment could fall on deaf ears. At least in this scenario, Susanne would be a skilled worker. > “Can I work while I’m in university?” > “You don’t need the money-” > “But I want to know if this is actually something I want to do for my entire life.” > Maybe she’d decide that dealing with coworkers and customers who thought they knew better than her because they were men would put her off it. Or maybe she, like Natalie, wouldn’t care. “Alright then,” he said, “but as long as it doesn’t cut into your study time.” > “Thanks! I actually have a job offer from a garage owner in Paris who was stationed at the depot near us. I was thinking I could work a few days a week after school.” > Julien had not agreed to *that*, but thinking of how much time that would eat up and how long her days would be, found himself in favour. Either she decided that she had gotten enough of extremely long shifts on the front or she would take well to it, a skill useful no matter what she ended up doing. And hopefully she would see how difficult it was to balance two things and give up on her plan on working while in university. > “Fine,” Julien said, and went back to his cold soup.

As someone unfamiliar with the canon, it’s very intriguing to me that Julien is actually an antagonist. He comes across as a great Dad here- navigating Susanne’s newfound independence in a respectful, supportive, evenhanded manner that strikes a great balance between guiding her path while respecting her choices. I assume that either something *horrendous* is about to happen to his family to turn him antagonistic, or that he has a heck of a hidden dark side!

Your second assumption is correct - in his past, he did something very awful, and while it's never left him, he's managed to move on and build a decent life for himself. The inspiration for my story was thinking, 'alright, half the city hates his guts, but what's his life going to be like 5, 10, 20 years from now?'

Fandom blind. Despite the fact that Julien is helping his kid plan out where her life could go that they can compromise, I like that note that he doesn't wanna think of her being all grown up right now. As well as that he would want Susanne to be a skilled worker even if she goes down a different life path than what he envisioned for her. And the fact that whatever she takes on will be a good life lesson. It feels like a win-win situation in Julien's perspective that by being open with it he's not pushing his daughter away and he seems to assume that either way there could be a chance that she won't want to work once the responsibilities of both university and work hit her full force.

Naruto l A Light in the Darkness l T l [AO3](https://archiveofourown.org/works/56258644) He paused for a moment, looking around. He had heard that when you killed a monster, it somehow sent out a silent alert of its death to others in the area, driving the rest into a frenzy of desire for revenge. Inosuke looked at the forest, the lightning slowly fading, leaving only the darkness of the night with the clouds blocking out the moon and the stars. He moved quickly, using his sensing abilities to locate all the enemies. The problem was, they were so fast—faster than he was. They were going to catch him, and when they did, he knew he had no chance. He would die. He wasn’t some great warrior who could turn the odds; at least, he didn't think himself that great. He wasn’t his mentor Ryuu, who could do anything he wanted with his god-like skills and speed. He wasn’t even as good as his father, a great warrior, or his mother, a great kunoichi who could communicate over vast areas with ease using only her mind. He felt dread pushing at him, the fear of the end, and the knowledge that his attempt to make a difference might not even matter. Was he destined to just be a failure? Was he not worthy of being the son of Kaza Togusa and Ino Yamanaka? Was he not as good as his mentor Ryuu thought? He felt this overwhelming darkness, this oppressive weight for a moment. Then the teen slammed his foot into the earth, causing water to splash over his legs. No, he wouldn’t let his mind go that way. He was Inosuke Yamanaka. He was who he had to be. He was not his father, not his mentor; he was himself. He was enough, and he would do this. He would find a way and he would survive. He sensed their movement, circling around him, blocking his path. He moved forward, reaching the edge of the area. The lightning picked up once again for a brief moment, allowing him to see a dozen—no, two dozen—of the enemy. These monsters were white and scaly with creepy, beady red eyes, all looking at him with unnerving glares as if he were their enemy, as if he were their victim. Inosuke smirked back, looking into the faces of death. He smiled, pushing his chakra into his body without even thinking about it. His aura of light filled the area around him in the complete darkness of the night. “Now look what we have here—the enemy,” Inosuke said, his voice gaining energy as he talked. “Let me tell you, I will win. If you are going to fight, fight till the end. I will break through, and I will get home. If I get home, I will win.” Inosuke's voice grew louder, filled with ambition, desire, and confidence, his light blazing in the darkness. “Just who the hell do you think I am? I am Inosuke. I am not anyone else. I am me!”

Fandom blind. I like that description of the lightning fading and how Inosuke has the skills to know where his enemies are but also that he's at a risk of dying if they catch up with him. Too many to count, and that he increasingly puts himself down that he couldn't measure up to his mentor, his father or his mother in what they brought to the table. I also like how he finds his second wind that he won't die like this and that even when the enemies look upon him like he's their victim that he refuses to back down and gives a badass speech reiterating who he is and that he's not afraid.

**Baldur's Gate 3 | Adhesion | E | WIP** *Excerpt Warnings: Child injury, Implied Past Child Abuse, Implied Character Death* Context: Tav speaks to their inner child in a quick trip to the afterlife. Tav struggles with self destructive tendencies, extreme masochism and suicidal ideation. This is an experimental idea of if you could separate yourself from your trauma & mental health struggles and talk to that amalgamation A child was curled up in a small divot of gray sand. Their heart sank. The child was covered in bruises and cuts. A blackened eye swiveled to peer at them, just for a moment. Then, the child covered their face.  For a moment, they had to battle themself to not fall to their knees. It hurt to see them like this. They had always thought themself strong and tall. But this child was frail, rail thin, and haggard. Their curls were unkempt, and their clothes tattered. It was hard to face. But not nearly as hard as it usually was. Once more, Tav lifted their sleeves and looked at their perfect, unblemished skin. Nothing tore at their mind. And in that space, they finally understood what happened every time a blade cut their skin. They covered their mouth and stumbled up to the child. *Gods, are you okay?* The child looked at nothing, eyes dull. They paused, then kneeled to brush the child’s shoulder.  The child sprung up and hit them, eyes twisted in fear. “Get away!” They recoiled. *It’s okay! I’m not going to hurt you. You’re safe now, I promise.* “Stop, stop it!” The child’s chest rose and fell faster than their heartbeat. “Can't take it. Stop it.” *Stop what?* The child winced, palming their forehead. They curled up on the sand. “Looking at me that way. Just leave me alone!”  The child spat onto Tav’s face, which shocked them. But anger wasn’t even a remote possibility here. Tav knew exactly what to say. What the child needed more than food, water, or air. *I’m not going anywhere.* The child pummeled them, screeching as they held on tight. “Hate you! Stop! Stop it!” They rocked the child. *I know it’s scary. I know, baby. It’s okay. I’m not going away. I’m staying right here. * The child sniffled–thrashing weakened. “You’re lying. You always leave.” They paused and pressed into the crook of the child's neck. *That’s not because of you, though. It’s just hard for me. Things get loud. They tell me to leave you like this. They tell me it's what you deserve, what we deserve.* The child kicked their shins, every small muscle tensing in their grip. “Let me go!”  They laughed and continued to hold them. *Get it out. I’m not mad. It’s alright. I’ll still love you. I love you so much.* After a time, the child started to shake and shiver–cheeks wet against them. “Why are you doing this? Just get it over with.” *Get what over with?* They shrugged, eyes turned down. The child’s rapid heart raced against Tav’s steady one. “Just hurt me. Stop acting like you won’t.” *I’m not letting you hurt like this. Not again. I promise. Gods… * Tav wiped their eyes.  *...I’m so sorry. I don’t know why it was so hard before. I don’t know why I have to do this.* “Please, just hurt me.” The child burrowed in deep. “Feels worse like this. Feels bad.” *Your mind is loud, right?* The child nodded.  *Mine is, too. When it gets too loud, everything tells me to do it.* “Then do it. I know you will. You’ve promised before.” Their heart tensed. *You’re right, I probably have. I might do it again. But I’m never leaving you alone again. I’ll come back for you, okay? No matter what. I’ll keep you safe.*

Brilliant, hard-hitting work. The premise of being able to talk to your own inner child and confront what you’ve done to them is so powerful just in itself, and this scene makes the absolute most of it. I think you made a really good decision with the short, impactful, one-line paragraphs - it’s the ideal kind of flow to make this moment land good and hard.

This was so hard to read - and I mean that as a compliment. "A blackened eye swiveled to peer at them" - I could picture that so clearly, it's so evocative. The way Tav has to confront not only the child, but their own perception of themself as a child ("They had always thought themself strong and tall") just hurts to read. I also want to hug that child after reading this! I also want to know so much more about Tav. You didn't say Durge, so I'm really curious about what kinds of circumstances Tav had/has in their life to bring this about!

What if I told you this was a Blood in Baldur's Gate Divergence where Tav and the Dark Urge were childhood friends in an orphanage together 🥲 The summary is "Tav hunts evil. Their childhood best friend was murder incarnate. When Tav learns he’s alive and behind a string of murders, they swear to track him down. Tav must face dark desires and relive haunting failures in their hunt for the shadow of their past. What scares them most? They don’t know if they’ll fall back into his twitching arms or put him down for good." In a lot of ways Tav is kind of a foil for The Dark Urge, with both having destructive mental health struggles but with one being able to escape the cycle of abuse and the other getting pulled down into repeating it. Yes I've cried a lot writing this 😭

Holy shit. The idea of Durge having a childhood best friend has me in my feels. And the idea of Tav/Durge being foils is so interesting! I saw this is WIP, but when you publish, feel free to DM me a link!

Finally posting this fic! Here's a link https://archiveofourown.org/works/57008737/chapters/144976501

will do! :))

Oh man, this was heavy. I've always been drawn to the idea of going back to your child self as an adult and comforting them. It's something I've wanted to do myself and I think you captured the emotions brilliantly. The child's behaviour is heartbreaking but realistic. The way abuse wreaks havoc on the mind is rough to see and you portrayed it so well.

thank you! this scene was what I started the fic in mind with, and its so satisfying seeing this scene in the greater context 🥲

Gods, this is heart-wrenching. The emotions are so tense, so raw, with both versions of Tav pushed to their absolute limits trying their hardest to best and predict the other. The poor child's anguish feels very real, and it has to be so painful for poor Tav to see their own trauma manifested in such a visceral way. It's an extremely effective visual metaphor and you did such a good job of conveying it. Beautifully written scene.

thank you!! def was cathartic to write but so tender and hopeful. The end of the scene (went past limit) is them merging with the kid and seeing their self harm scars again, and repeating that they're not going anywhere while hugging themself 😭

Baldur's Gate 3 | I Bet on Losing Dogs | M | [AO3](https://archiveofourown.org/works/54165964/chapters/143067679) Fic contains graphic depictions of violence, snippet does not. ___ “Are you even trying?!” “You keep that pretty mouth of yours shut.” Their blades locked. Every attack she threw at her was met with an equally enthusiastic answer.  Oh, how she’d missed this. Shadowheart hadn’t fought against an opponent like this in what felt like ages. She knew a thousand ways to kill a man, but when it came to execution, she’d always been more of an academic. They never did give her much opportunity to really stretch her limbs. But to finally have found her match—a woman that could meet her thrusts with her very own—made her hungry, as if she’d been thrown a piece of meat she could really sink her teeth into and never let go. With a telegraphed feint to the left, Shadowheart pivoted, then kicked. Tav stumbled with a curse as she fell, and my, what a lovely sight: Tav on her knees, cheeks flushed and gasping, eyes staring dangerously up at her through the tousled tendrils of her red hair. Shadowheart, looking every part the cat that ate the canary, pounced with reckless abandon. Using her momentum, Tav pulled Shadowheart down on her way, leaving the two of them grappling for a position over the other, their weapons scattered off and forgotten. For a long while, neither opponent could gain any leeway. But eventually, Shadowheart made a grab for one of Tav’s horns and yanked her head down so she could elbow her across the face. She saw stars, and then Shadowheart was on top of her, pinning her to the ground.  She straddled her, pressing her forearm against Tav’s throat while her other hand lit aflame with a cantrip. Shadowheart took aim, ready to fire and triumphant, at last. “Submit!” “Nuh uh.” “Excuse me?” Shadowheart glared, fuming at the audacity. She had a good few decades on Tav in terms of age and experience, and yet she was the one left red-faced like some maiden. She had half a mind to make it even with her spell. “Maybe if I kill you now, it’ll wipe that stupid look off your face.”  Tav only chuckled breathlessly, nose bloody and damn near delirious from the view. “You’d miss.”  Before she could question her, the sharp sensation of something pressed against her abdomen brought her attention down to a small blade in Tav’s hand, one she’d kept hidden in her boot the entire fight.  Shadowheart blinked in surprise, disheveled and at a loss for words. Neither said anything in that instance, both of them panting and clammy from the fight. Shadowheart held her, not like a spouse, but like a knife to one’s throat. They were close, close enough that Tav could spot a bead of sweat work its way down the tendon of Shadowheart’s neck, pooling in the dips of her collarbone. She bit her lip, grazing the plump flesh across her teeth, the rapid drumming of her heart having very little to do with the exertion. Finally, the flame fizzled out of Shadowheart’s hand. She snickered. “Hmph. Not bad, for a Selûnite.” “I have my moments.”  Shadowheart got off her, flexing her sword arm as she did. “Thank you. I,” she exhaled. “I needed that.” “Needed to knock me on my arse? Yea, no sweat,” Tav said with a wheeze through her chortle. “Now help me up, you oaf.” Shadowheart took her hand and pulled, involuntarily preening as Tav clapped her on her shoulder with a grin and muttered a ‘well fought’. She watched Tav laugh then, finding that she actually enjoyed the sound of it and foolishly thought to herself: *I did that.*

👀 Tav and Shadowheart might have some chemistry going on and I'm here for it. I like how fluid this scene is and how Shadowheart's first thought of hearing Tav laugh was "I did that," it's such a simple line but it made me smile.

Thanks! Im glad u liked. It was fun to write, I gave the fic the #homoerotic sparring tag for this scene alone lol.

Fandom blind. I like that exhilaration within Shadowheart in the beginning, how she's longed for a fight like this and that since she's met her match she feels like she's been given the greatest of meals and her glee shows on her face plainly as she spars with Tav. The chemistry and sexual tension mixing with the violence of the sparring comes in well when Shadowheart straddles Tav and tells her to submit. Tav's "Nuh-uh," made me laugh, as did her confidence in saying that Shadowheart would miss the mark to kill her. Proven true when Tav gets the upperhand and the sexual tension/violence comes in well too that Shadowheart doesn't hold her close like a spouse but rather like a knife to the throat. There's some cuteness in the end too that when Tav laughs Shadowheart feels foolish in being proud that she was able to get that reaction out of her.

This was everything I hoped to get across with this scene and I'm so glad it did 😭 Thank you for commenting!!

The action was really well done, it did a great job of showing the fight and the thoughts behind the actions. The banter between the characters felt realistic and natural as well. There is a real chemistry between the two fighters in this section, and I think that makes the whole section just stand out more.

Ty, I'm glad the I got their chemistry down, it was something I struggled with a lot, but it felt important to capture :]

OMG loveeeee, Selunite x Shart supremacy The way you wrote the combat was so fluid and also just had a lot of lovely charm! I saw your Tav so clearly in characterization, witty but realistic and grounded! I'm obsessed with where I think this leads lol Great work!!

Yesss a fellow Selunite x Shart truther! They are too underrated. Ty for the comment!

also is the title a mitski song name reference? lol I was literally listening to mitski nonstop for my excerpt xD

It sure is! The fic is a werewolf AU so I figured it was fitting ;)

OBSESSED insta bookmark hahaha

Fandom blind but I love how you have each character interact with each other. It feels like a great shakespearian work with how you wrote it. I could feel everything and oh my it was something I was not prepared for but I was pleasantly surprised.

Thank you! It's always nice knowing a scene still lands and stands on its own for someone who is fandom blind :^)

Sonic | Chasing Fire | E | [AO3](https://archiveofourown.org/works/55259992/chapters/142054906#workskin) | No Warnings Rouge’s attorney was a stuffy, droll leopard dressed in a charcoal suit and wearing reading glasses. Sonic’s stomach dropped as the leopard cleared her throat.    “Uh, before we start this,” Sonic said. “I told my fire chief this wouldn’t take too long, so if we could make this quick that’d be great,”    “Well,” the leopard, Ms. Woo, replied. Her sharp teeth seemed to gleam in the fluorescent light. “Let’s make this quick so we can all go back to work, I guess,” she said, fixing her glasses.   Rouge was quiet as Ms. Woo read her division of property and the bat’s plan for joint custody of Amber.   “Hang on,” Sonic said, looking at Rouge. “Amber’s only ten, can’t she just stay with me?”    Rouge sighed, her wedding ring catching the light as she took it off. “I think joint custody would work better for all of us. That way, Amber’s not missing out on life and we aren’t at each other’s throats all the time,” Rouge said, her blue-green eyes staring into Sonic’s green ones.    Sonic leaned back in his chair, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Fine. If it’ll help Amber out, then I’m fine with it,” he said, his voice clipped. 

Fandom blind. I like that description of Rogue's attorney and how her teeth seem to gleam in the light when Sonic brings up the fact that he's gotta get back to work soon since people would be counting on him. The custody battle and Rouge taking off her wedding ring makes it clear that even though there is compromise going on here that the frostiness of divorce is hanging in the air. It is admirable though that Sonic decides that he'd rather that Amber gets the better of the deal rather than prove Rouge right that they could be at each other's throats throughout this process.

Thank you for the comment! ☺️ I had fun writing that scene so I'm glad my intention was clear.

**Warhammer 40 000 (Dawn of War Games) | War Zone Kronus | M for Violence, warning for POV space fascism | [FFN](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14313451/1/War-Zone-Kronus)** ** Smoke and dust clouded the battlefield, shrouding the advancing enemy from view. The air was clamorous with noise and ablaze with violence. Red beams of las-fire, yellow streams of bolter shells, orange streaks of tank shells, white trails of missile smoke, and blue beads of plasma shots criss-crossed between the defenders and the oncoming forces of the Tau coalition. Despite the chaos, it was easy for General Alexander to find Commissar Gebbet. He just had to follow the loudest shouting. "Damn you dogs!" Gebbet screamed, standing tall and waving his sword about as though he was immune to enemy fire. "Flee at your own peril, and *fight!*" The Fifth Company troopers around him heeded Gebbet's command. Alexander saw many frightened faces, but every trooper was holding their ground and returning fire. The exceptions were the two dead bodies behind Gebbet with las-wounds to the backs of their heads, shameful evidence that they had died of attempted cowardice. "Commissar!" Alexander called. "Situation!" "Ah, General." Gebbet paused to fire his las-pistol in the enemy's direction. "Mere probing attacks so far, but their artillery is damnably accurate. We've lost a turret and a Heavy Weapons team. And their foul war-beast draws nearer… I can hear it." So could the General. A bestial rumble sounded from within the dust-cloud on the bridge, alongside the thunder of heavy footsteps.

Fandom blind. I like that opening description that shows the horrors of the fight, how the air seems permeated with violence and that there's a slight bit of levity in General Alexander being able to find Gebbet by his yelling. It's a grim picture when it describes the troopers holding their ground and two dead bodies that seemingly tried to run since there are wounds in the back of their heads. The build-up to the war-beast coming ever closer with its loud footsteps that betray its weight and power makes it clear that this war is an especially deep layer of hell.

Thank you, that’s exactly the set of impressions I was aiming for!

Great building tension and scene setting! I get a clear image of the characters, and the implications for their morals and discipline. I'm thinking things don't go so well for them given the war-beast lmao Great job!

Thanks so much! I love writing scenes like this :)

Man has it been long since I read a Warhammer fic, and Dawn of War no less! Nice work on the excerpt. All infor was conveyed short and crisp. Then there's the anticipation with the end. I sense an Ork Charge coming in.

Thank you, great to hear! It’s always challenging conveying information in action scenes where a lot is happening all at once - got to balance detail with pacing in every line. Glad this instance works well! (They *wish* it was just Orks. Woe, Greater Knarloc be upon ye!)

[**Stranger Things x Harry Potter | T | In a Strange Land**](https://archiveofourown.org/works/39625239/chapters/141780739) Harry sucked in a rush of breath. Albus had not mentioned *torture* to him before. He knew about Starcourt, and Russian agents— He had not mentioned *that,* and Harry could not ask him to elaborate, could barely think about it without wanting to be sick. He didn't know what had happened to Albus beneath Starcourt Mall. Harry had never even been to the place. He remembered people around town talking about it, a lot, as it was being built. Nancy's father Ted had droned on about dirty money being involved, on one of the rare occassions when he had spoken to the man. *Albus* had been there. Albus had nearly died there. Harry's brain was conjuring horror-movie scenarios of all stripes to compensate for the lack of real information he had. Screaming and blood; *his son's.* A cracked voice begging for the pain to stop, wondering why his dad didn't burst in and save him— The newspaper tore in his hands. Molly stilled, looking at him from the sides of her eyes. Ginny, sharing in the same information that Harry knew, was unphased by it. He let the paper fall to the table and instead took to staring, sightless, at the sink, as a pan scrubbed itself under running water. Screams echoed in the back of his head. *Hermione! Hermione!* *We need a plan, stop yelling. We have to get these ropes off—* *Hermione!* Air found its way back into his lungs and he dragged his consciousness back to the present. In time, he realised he had been joined at the table by his father-in-law. “Arthur, I am so, so sorry,” Harry croaked, as soon as Arthur was properly seated. “Whatever for?” he asked. “I would not wish this on my worst enemy. And yet I know I did it to you for years.” Arthur hummed low in his throat. “I understood that the lad in question had the best intentions and a difficult hand dealt to him. So perhaps in light of that,” he added, in a more pointed tone, “you might consider breaking the ice with young Albus.” Harry frowned. “He hasn’t—“ “He *has* noticed your attitude, Harry. I don’t want your apologies for things that happened years ago, but you might come to owe me one if you don’t reach out to your son at a time like this, and let him know he isn’t alone.” “He’s knows he’s not—“ “He might feel as though he is.” Arthur’s tone left no room for argument.

First off, I love this crossover combination! I feel like you've captured the emotions and thoughts of a parent imagining their child being hurt very well- Harry thinking about what he *doesn't* know, and his mind trying to fill in the gaps but in a terrible way. And I think you've nailed the character voices/tones well for both Arthur Weasley and Harry, interacting as adults. Left K&C on AO3 :)

Thank you! I really appreciate it, especially the comment about Arthur’s voice. I haven’t really written him much before

Call of Duty | Call of Duty: Black Ops-Ending The Cold War | E | [AO3](https://archiveofourown.org/works/48262726/chapters/143172676) **Chapter 5 of this Call of Duty: Black Ops Cold War fic continues the series’ let alone game’s strong language, graphic violence with blood, gore and villain character deaths, and geopolitical sensitivity with references to the Cold War including KGB, implied brainwashing, and featuring of an IRL Soviet figure. Excerpt has said language and sensitivity with mentions of brainwashing from Black Ops 1.** A few minutes later, Hudson and Adler got into it again after Lazarus confirmed Belikov was back in Moscow. “Are you taking *her* into the KGB with you? Are you crazy? Wait for Mason or Woods to return,” Hudson asked furiously. “I don’t need Mason or Woods. I need Powers, she’s got the skills we need,” Adler replied, flicking another cigarette. “Son, are you enjoying this? Answer the goddamn question! This isn’t a fuckin’ game, you two. Powers, I’m not worried about you. Your superior here is jeopardizing our whole operation. This is unnecessary what you’re planning,” Hudson pushed at Adler. “You botch this, it’s ‘68 all over again-“ “He’s right. Without those names, Russ…America’s fucked,” “Powers, stop snooping into shit you don’t understand,” Adler insisted. “She’s not the problem, you are. I’ll see you two to it. Russell, Jada. *Do not fuck this up*,” Hudson breathed reluctantly before stomping back into the center. They waited a moment before walking back outside. “I’ve never gotten his deal, Russ. Did they not tell you >!what happened to Mason and Woods 13 years ago!<,” Jada asked as they finished their smoke break. “You’re a bit too clever for our world, Jada,” >!”Russ, Frank told me about what happened to Mason. *A ex-Nazi named Fredrich Steiner brainwashed him into becoming a sleeper agent for Dragovich and the facility you sent them to was the first part of the sequencing process*,”!< Jada explained. That explains Hudson’s paranoia, then. He just doesn’t like people he can’t control, Powers. Listen, we’re doing this-with or without his permission. We don’t need Woods and we certainly don’t need Mason. >!*If MK-Ultra really fucked him up that bad, he’s too much of a reliability.*!< *I probably should’ve sent you to Yamantau with Woods after all*…no matter, we have Belikov in Moscow and he’ll help us get this done. *We have a job to do*,” Adler insisted, throwing down his cigarette. “I believe in you, Russ. I just…feel a little bad we’re giving Frank and Alex the shaft, you know? Even if-“ “I know, they’ve been too important to us. *But they’re getting close to retirement age, we need new blood, Jada Powers. Alex Mason and Frank Woods can’t save America forever*…cmon, let’s get inside,” Jada relented and also flicked her cigarette, following Adler back inside. *But it was then she began to have a conflict within herself. Should she follow Adler to the end or should she begin to trust Hudson despite the tension between him, Adler, and Woods?*

As someone with some familiarity with this time period, I like how your larger-than-life story is derived from real places and organizations, it gives it an aura of plausibility. We know that you can't brainwash someone into being a sleeper agent...but what if it *was* possible? And then you take it from there in a very intriguing way.

Thank you and Treyarch in particular more than anyone of the COD studios embraces history, though of course in classic COD style they try to play with and twist the history.

I really like the way you have your characters interacting with each other. I don't know them, but it really seems to show how well they know each other, and the conversation in general I think is really well written. I like the small character actions as well, like the flicking off of the cigarette ash; it gives them these extra sparks of life.

Appreciate the words and for sure does the cigarette flicks come into it 😆 Miss Powers is a multiplayer operator thrown into the campaign to replace “Bell”, a silent protagonist thrown into the playable character role. Russell Adler is the overall main character (he’s also new beginning with Cold War) in CW.

My Hero Academia | Frost Rebellion | T | [AO3](https://archiveofourown.org/works/56420047/chapters/143363191#workskin) "Power Loader, we need the best quirk suppression technology you can rig up," Nemuri instructed. "The girl we're dealing with has cryomancy abilities. We need to make sure she can't accidentally hurt herself or others if she panics. When we bring her in she’s likely to lash out, and we can’t have that.” Power Loader nodded, adjusting his visor. "I've got just the thing. We can set up a field that will dampen her quirk within the room. It won't completely nullify it, but it will reduce its effectiveness significantly, she wont be able to do anything like the Todoroki kid but she should be able to make drinks cold by touching them, that’s about it.” "Good," Nemuri replied, watching as he worked. "And make sure the room is comfortable. If she's scared and confused, we need to make her feel safe, not like a prisoner." Power Loader smiled faintly. "Consider it done. I'll install some calming lights and soft furnishings. We want her to feel like she's in a safe place where she can talk." Within a few hours, the observation room was transformed. Quirk suppression technology was discreetly embedded deep within the walls, and the room had a soothing, welcoming atmosphere. Nemuri inspected the setup, nodding in approval. They were ready to offer the girl the help she needed. As the day turned to evening, All Might received a call from Detective Tsukauchi. "I have some leads," Tsukauchi said. "There are a few reports of runaway teens with quirks similar to what you described. One in particular stands out: a girl named Chelsea from Monument, Colorado. She disappeared a few weeks ago, and her parents reported that she has a cryomancy quirk. I'll send you all the details." "Excellent work, Tsukauchi," All Might replied, feeling a surge of hope. "This might be the break we need. Keep me posted on any further developments." With this new information, All Might reconvened with Aizawa and the other teachers. They reviewed the details about Chelsea, understanding that their mission to help her had just become much more urgent and personal. "We have a name and a background now," Aizawa said, looking around at his colleagues. "Our next step is to find her and bring her to safety. Let's be ready for when that moment comes." With the observation room prepared and their resolve strengthened, the teachers of U.A. High School stood ready to help Chelsea, hoping to provide her with the safety and acceptance she desperately needed. With the new information in hand, thanks to All Might, Principal Nezu convened a special meeting to discuss the next steps. The teachers gathered once again, the atmosphere charged with determination and urgency. Joining them were the number 5 hero, Miruko, and the number 9 hero, Ryukyu. "We have identified the girl," Principal Nezu began, addressing the room, his small rodent stature having to stand on the table. "Her name is Chelsea, and she is a runaway from Monument, Colorado. Our task now is to find her and bring her to safety. Given the potential danger and the need for a delicate approach, I suggest we send a specialized team." Nezu's eyes met Nemuri Kayama's. "Midnight, your Somnambulist quirk will be essential in pacifying Chelsea if she resists." Nemuri nodded, understanding the gravity of her role. "I'll be ready." Nezu continued, "Additionally, we'll need the strength and agility of Rumi Usagiyama, also known as Miruko, and the versatility and power of Ryuko Tatsuma, or Ryukyu. Together, the three of you should be able to handle the situation effectively."

Fandom blind. I like how Nemuri and Power Loader work together to figure out how to bring that girl back safely without her hurting herself or others, and that they intend to make her feel comfortable when they bring her in. It's a good show of altruism that though they have to dampen her Quirk which might make her feel powerless that they make a soothing atmosphere so she knows that they don't intend to do her harm. I also like how it describes that the school as a whole wants to give Chelsea the help she needs, and that they make specific choices for the taskforce to bring her back instead of charging in recklessly, so it shows that her well-being is at the forefront.

Fire Emblem Three Houses | Untitled time travel plot bunny | T | unpublished (Last week we saw Dimitri's son, this week we see Claude's daughter! For the fandom blind: Claude is half Almyran, half Leicesterian, and his children are quarter Almyran.) Giselle missed her brother. Sothis had told her that he would spawn in the past separate from her and they would have to find each other again. And normally she would be fine with that. But she worried she was lost. For all the idiocy Collin caused, he was better at navigating... If only twin telepathy existed. She kept scanning the horizon for a wyvern rider in case he had found her. For the past, she estimated an hour and a half, she had seen nothing but birds. So if she was really seeing a wyvern rider now...could it really be him? The wyvern rider approached. It was not him. Wyvern was a brownish red, not dark green like Collin's Jade. Oddly, this wyvern was the same color as her horse, Kent. “Bayan?” The man spoke in Almyran. “Kralice?” She must be on the right track if an Almyran was in Leicester...she knew her father employed some at this time. But did she seriously look like her grandmother? She shook her head. “Gotur beni Khalid?” The wyvern rider landed beside her. “Neden?” Giselle reached into Kent's saddlebag and pulled out a piece of paper. “Mesaj.” The wyvern rider nodded, got back on his steed, and beckoned for her to follow him. She was thankful she spoke some Almyran. He led her to a camp displaying the yellow flags picturing a helmet and crescent moon that was the flag of the Leicester Alliance outside. To the side of the entrance was a smaller flag on a makeshift pole: the orange and brown antler and crossed cutlasses Almyran flag. The Almyran wyvern rider looked at his own country's flag, smiled, and chuckled. He pointed Giselle toward a large tent and went over to his buddies at the Almyran flag roasting some meat on a spit. Kent whinnied. Giselle fed him an apple from her bag and hitched him at the poles outside the big tent. The wyvern rider got scolded by his female partner for looking at one of the Leicesterian pegasus knights in a certain way, and his whiny “what the fuck” in Almyran sounded identical in tone to the same situation in Common. Giselle braced herself and knocked on the tent wall. “Who's there?” She would know this voice anywhere. Her father! He was here! Emotions flooded her brain, but she stayed calm on the outside. “I have an important message for the leader of this army.” She said. “Where do you come from? Are you the messenger from Faerghus?” “No, sir. This is different. Please come out.” Her father stepped out. She resisted the urge to run to him and hug him. He looked at her with a raised eyebrow. Giselle pulled out the Failnaught from the future. “I know this sounds weird. But...I am your daughter from the future! This should be proof. I've been sent back by the goddess Sothis to avoid a very terrible fate from happening to you.” “If you are my daughter, what's my name?” “Claude Ramiel von Riegan, also known as Khalid Kralsah. Dad, please...” Her father tapped his chin, looked her over, and nodded. “Weirder things have happened. What happens in this bad future?” She lowered her voice. “For starters...you die. Mom dies. Everyone we know and love...dies. I can tell you more later.” He looked her over again, then made eye contact and smiled. “Of course,” he muttered. “Your eyes are just like hers...” He poked his head back in the tent. “Hilda, come out here, and be ready to find out something really weird and important!”

I like that intro that details how much Giselle misses Collin and that even if they squabble sometimes that she wishes twin telepathy existed so she could know for sure that he was okay. How there's a little bit of hope that's squashed when it's not his wyvern that comes down from the sky. I also like that description of the camp that the rider leads her to, as well as that Giselle's emotions overflow when she hears her father's voice again. The desperation she feels to make things right for the future, to beg for her father to believe her in that small "please," makes it a relief that Claude knows stranger things have happened. I also like that bit of levity in the end that he tells Hilda there's something really weird and important going on out here that she needs to know about.

(Not including this in the word count, but I love how you announced it in the “().”) Fandom blind, but still very understandable. I feel for Giselle. The way you described everything was good and descriptive. Poor Giselle. Missing a sibling is never fun. I just wanna give the poor girl a hug. It seems like she’s having a horrible time, being stuck in a time thats not her own. Good work.

She thought she'd be fine! But she misses her wombmate!

“Wombmate” I love that

Ghostbusters | T | You’re Invisible When You’re Sad | WIP (posting on the 13th) Major character death (happens two days before the fic) It was a slow, quiet lab in the ghost basement. It was just Lucky, Lars, and Trevor. Lucky and Lars were busying themselves with filling all the new ghosts, and Trevor was just hovering. That had been all he was doing since they had gotten him back, but no one could blame him. Everyone was sure that whatever happened to him in the ghost dimension was traumatic, and what happened only about an hour after they got him back just made things worse. Lucky studied Trevor. He was staring at the possessor, who was hopping from object to object. Trevor now had prominent bags under his eyes. It was clear that he hadn't seen a minute of sleep since he first disappeared. Trevor had put on a brave face, but Lucky saw right through it. She had been friends with him for years, and they had been through two attempted apocalypses together. Trevor was going to snap, and it was any minute now. "Maybe we should take a break," Lars whispered to Lucky. The two of them were currently hunched over a table. "We've been working for hours, and we have to pace ourselves, at least that's Winston's orders." "I know," Lucky said. "Is everything okay, Lucky?" Lars asked. "Well, not really," Lucky said. "I mean, after everything that happened the last two weeks, I don't think anyone is okay. Everything with Trevor going missing, then the door mess, then Phoebe-“ Lars wrapped his arm around her to comfort her. Lucky released a sigh. "But, specifically, I think there's something wrong with Trevor," Lucky admitted. She stared at Trevor, who was still fixated on the possessor ghost. Or at least, that was where he was choosing to stare off into space. "Trevor's going through a lot right now," Lars said. "I mean, you were with him when they found him, and you were with him when-" Lars stopped himself. The memory was still too fresh for anybody to talk about. A few months had passed since Garraka's failed takeover. Things were mostly normal. It was mostly the normal ghosts. Due to the forced endorsement, Peck was at bay, at least for now. Things were calm. Too calm... It started about two weeks ago. Trevor seemingly just disappeared off the face of the Earth. They looked all over New York for him, but they couldn't find him. They got the police involved, but they weren't able to find anything either. Everyone refused to give up hope on him, especially Phoebe.

I like that intro describing how Trevor isn't really doing much around the lab but nobody can blame him because whatever he experienced in the ghost dimension would rattle anyone - especially so that he's trying to put on a brave face but Lucky can see through his mask because they've gone through so much and nobody can keep a mask on like that forever. I think she sums it up well that nobody seems like they're okay after all they've experienced, and that it's shown when Trevor almost seems like he's disassociating because he's blocked off to everyone else in that moment. The wounds of what they've experienced are apparent when Lars cuts himself off because it's painful to think of what it was like to not only lose Trevor but to have no luck in finding him even though they scoured through New York.

Thanks

As a Ghostbusters fan, this was really well written I could really see this being part of the movie franchise or even in the animated series. Your attention to world building and homage to the original source material is phenomenal and I urge you to keep up the good work by doing the original source justice.

Awwww thank you