#Phi had to have known Non

[respectthepetty]

I'm being completely normal about Dead Friend Forever. SO normal. Extremely normal. The normal-est.

But I'm also looking at this image eighty million times to figure out who it is.

Because those are Tee's shoes

And White's scar on the left knee

So it's them, but that means these boys have known each other longer than originally discussed because when Jin is getting the Sloppy Joe . . .

He is wearing the same shirt that he wore to tutoring

And it's not Non on his knees like I originally thought because he was wearing jeans that day

And it's not the teacher because he has a watch on his left hand and the person on his knees doesn't

So as the Reddit people have guessed, Jin has known Phi since their tutoring days. (GIF from @squerella)

And now I know, without a doubt, that Phi is one of the killers.

[loveindefinitely]

༊*·˚ FOREVER WINTER (IF YOU GO) — task force 141 x reader

03 — MY COMPASS, MY TRANSPORT

featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + johnny 'soap' mactavish + kyle 'gaz' garrick + john 'bravo six' price + (non-endgame phillip graves)

warnings. nsfw, fem!reader, fmmmm, enemies to lovers, slow burn, polyamory, ghostsoap, pricegaz, alerudy, heavy angst, requited unrequited love, graphic violence

series masterlist. read on ao3. fanfic playlist.

<- previous part | next part ->

“I have nothing else to live for.”

It’s a truth. A deep, earnest one – and it’s the only option you have.

Without Graves, without your Shadows, you have nothing. No income, no family, no support. You're left with the clothes on your body and the shoes in which you stand, with no hope of finding your footing.

In the darkness, the only light shines from the headlights of the truck, and the red of the radio. It’s silenced, of course, but it serves as a beacon of something between you all.

“I don’t – I have no other choice,” you say, voice trembling. You would not break in front of them, but you could feel yourself cracking; porcelain underneath a harsh grip. Turning yourself so you’re completely facing the two, your expression turns desperate. “I want to help you both, and I want to save Phi– Graves.”

You correct yourself at the final moment, wary of your slip up.

“Save ‘im? From what? Feckin’ charges for war crimes? Getting his ass handed to ‘im?” Soap chokes out, incredulous, eyes wide where they meet yours. He winces when he moves forward too quick, straining his arm.

“He’s…” You look down at your hands, merely watching for a moment as they close into a fist and open again. Blood crusts underneath your fingernails. “He’s all I have. I’m sure he just needs a wake up call, someone to snap him out of it.”

“He tried to kill us,” Ghost speaks up, matter-of-fact, but quiet. As if at any moment, his words will wake up the entire city. If there were any civilians left in it, you supposed. Your eyes burn with unshed tears.

“...And I had to kill some of my men.”

It’s a confession of sin. Like poison on your tongue, yet at the same time, an anecdote to an evil in your veins. You’d killed your men. You’d… done that.

You still haven’t quite allowed yourself to realise it, not yet.

But if it’s enough to keep you alive right now, so be it. You hadn’t gotten this far just to give up over something as inconsequential as pride.

“Ye will tell us everything you know about ‘im. And’ll help us until we figure out what to do. We’re our own bosses now, Sweetheart,” Soap commands, that fucking nickname of his seeming to stick. You don’t dispute it – not right now, not when this is quite literally life or death.

“I promise,” you say, resolute and stern. There was no time for self-pity or wallowing, only time for action and conviction – something you had in spades. “I’m yours for as long as you need me.”

You hadn’t known how true those words would be – not then, and not for a good while. But they were a prophecy, if such a thing could at all be possible for a woman like you.

Soap and Ghost share a look; a brief, yet important one, before Ghost gives the Scot a short nod. Soap turns once more to you, his face betraying the answer of their silent agreement.

“...So?” You suggest, impatient considering the consequences of the next few moments. 

Bringing a hand up to stroke at his stubbled chin, Soap makes an act of pretending to ponder – and it succeeds in stoking the flames at your core, fury burning through you like a liquor-soaked rope.

“I dunno, lass,” he says on a sigh, his ocean eyes betraying a mischief in their depths. “Yer kinda mean to me.”

You might choke him.

Actually, check that, you will choke him. He’s impossible – an arsehole to the nth degree – somehow worse than Ghost in his… foolishness? Was that the right word? Or just straight frustrating-ness?

Seeming to sense your thinning patience, Soap’s hand falls from his jaw with a mirthful smirk, proud of himself. 

“If ye say pretty please, ye can join our lil’ duo.” He finishes the statement off with a wink, and you don’t realise that your hands have curled into fists until the sharp pain of nails digging into your palms force you to resort back to your senses.

You let out a slow, loud breath. 

Neither of them move a muscle, except for the twitch of Soap’s dimple. You hate that you recognise such a small movement, but you easily blame it on the fact that it’s a drilled-in mentality.

“...Please,” you acquiesce, however quiet. 

Ghost’s eyebrow raises. How you’re aware of that, considering his mask, is a props to him. 

“That’s not what he asked for.” His voice is a low, husky thing, and the title of guard dog suddenly doesn’t sound so incorrect.

With your teeth gritted and cheeks straining, you mutter out, “Pretty please.”

Soap’s responding smile is nothing short of beaming, and you almost immediately wish that you could take those words back. Was death really so bad? Would it even be a mercy, compared to deciding to share a threadbare camaraderie with these weirdos?

Too bad time control isn’t exactly a well-researched military weapon.

“Let’s go then,” Ghost slaps his gloved hand against the steering wheel, before looking one last time towards you with purpose, “Sweetheart.”

Soap laughs.

You get out and slam the door in his face.

“Och! You feckin’ bastard, lass,” you hear him screech, before the door opens once more and Soap hops out, fuming.

Turning away, you fall behind Ghost, and quickly take a look around at the vast, empty area that is barren suburbia. Not before responding, however.

“Next time you get shot, I’m not taking care of your ass,” you threaten. “And I’m giving the rest of my sweets to Mr. Melodramatic.”

Soap’s returning mock gasp is, in all fairness, pretty comedic. “You have more sweets? Gimme those and ye lovely bedside manners ‘nd I’ll get a cavity!”

Your returning glare could cut steel. “Keep that up, and you’ll end up with bigger issues than a cavity.”

“I think ye are already the bigger issue,” Soap snaps back, but it’s not inherently malicious. It’s… borderline playful, and that sudden thought has you internally slapping yourself.

“Both of ya – quiet,” Ghost warns.

You both shut up immediately.

With wary steps, the three of you go to step up towards the front door, when Ghost swings out a hand, stopping the lot of you in your tracks. The night doesn’t allow for any of you to see well, but he must’ve picked up something that you hadn’t.

The thought is an immediately terrifying one.

“Pressure plates,” Soap murmurs under his breath, eyeing the square linoleum tile. “Nice catch, Lt.”

Ghost doesn’t respond, instead motioning for you to follow him towards a glassless window. Gravel crunches underneath your light footfalls, easily heard in the deathly quiet, as you move to swing your leg over the access point and drop to the floor inside.

Landing with a soft thud, you go to unfurl from your crouching position, before a loud warning shout from Ghost has you freezing.

Flinching where you stand, your eyes dart to where Ghost has flung one of his daggers, the sharp metal splintering a wooden beam further into the dark room. Realising that Soap sits at your flank, you shift your gaze to spot a red light focused in on his forehead – between his eyes.

“¿Quien esta ahi?” An unfamiliar, accented voice calls out from behind the beam. You could slap yourself for being so careless, in not realising that someone else was in here before Ghost had saved your arses. 

“Rodolfo!” Soap calls out, relief flooding his tone as he rights his position, shoulders back.

A man peeks out from behind the wood, eyes wide and slightly panicked, before they soften at the sight of the two men behind you. “Soap! Ghost! You’re alive!”

Stepping out from around the beam, he reaches for Ghost’s dagger, pulling it away from where it had dug into the oak with undeniable ease. His appearance is striking, with a set jaw and gentle features – he’s quite pretty, but not at all in a way that you find yourself attracted to the man.

“Affirmative,” Ghost responds, accepting the knife back when the man – Rodolfo – hands it to him hilt-first.

“Good to see you, amigos,” Rodolfo smiles, before his appraisal sets on you, confusion sparking in his deep brown eyes. He looks to the two men at your side for an explanation, hesitant in the way he does so.

“This is…” Soap trails off, before coming to a realisation. “Feckin’ hell. I never even asked for yer name, Sweetheart.”

Rodolfo blinks. Once, twice, before his eyebrows furrow and his mouth settles into an uncomfortable grimace.

You shoot a glare Soap’s way, before gifting Rodolfo a polite, yet stilted, smile. Extending your hand, you give him your name, and then your official title.

“Colonel? Graves’ colonel?” Rodolfo repeats back, utterly taken aback by such an introduction. He doesn’t seem to know what to do, quickly hissing to Soap in unamused Spanish, “¿Has perdido la cabeza?”

“I saved his life,” you interrupt, before any verbal sparring begins. “And I’m on your team. I don’t agree with what Graves is doing – and I’m sorry for what he’s already done. But I want to help you. I swear.”

Rodolfo regards you for a moment, his internal walls still heavily locked in place. But he seems… softer, now, in a way. More understanding, maybe, less hesitant as he slowly appraises you, inspecting you under his critical analysis.

The silence stretches, before the soldier raises his hands placatingly, the left side of his mouth twitching into a smooth smirk. “No accusations from me, Corazón,” he reassures, the pet name sliding from his full lips like butter over warm toast.

“Aye, none of tha’,” Soap warns, and Rodolfo’s amusement deepens. Whatever the Scot is about to say next is abruptly stopped by Ghost’s booming demand from behind you both.

“Anyone outside of these walls is now considered a hostile – we’re a team now. This happened under my watch, and I’d bloody well do good to fix it.” His posture is stiff, hand unconsciously flexing around the blade strapped to his belt as he delivers the order. It’s the most you’ve ever heard him speak in one shot.

You figure he’s stopped speaking, when suddenly his heavy gaze is on you, any ounce of solidarity snuffed out like a match’s flame. “You fuck up once, Sweetheart, and I won’t hesitate when I shoot ya dead.”

It’s as good of a compromise as you’re going to get from the hulking Lieutenant, but you weren’t made Colonel for your talents in stepping down.

“You forget that I outrank you,” you challenge, chin raised and eyes flinty. “And that I saved your mutt.”

“We don’t have a feckin’ dog,” Soap starts, but when he sees the way Ghost side eyes him, and how you give him an unimpressed look, his jaw drops. “Ye bastard! Shoulda killed ya –”

Rodolfo’s hand wraps around Soap’s forearm, the grumbling man twisting in his hold, but not putting up anything close to a fight. “She’s just stirring you up, hermano,” Rodolfo placates, his large eyes meeting yours with a hint of respect in them. It has you straightening your spine, and your resolve.

“We sort this out as equals,” you state, folding your arms over your chest and bucking your hip. Ghost doesn’t, for a single second, shift your mutual eye contact. “And you will all tell me what the fuck’s going on – and what we’re doing.”

“Alejandro,” Ghost quips, sharp and to the point. Finally, you think, his near-black eyes drift to Rodolfo. “We need him back.”

“He’s the only other lad we can trust out there,” Soap adds, his pout easing slightly. Rodolfo finally drops his hand, clapping it hard against the petulant man’s shoulder with a firm nod.

“Already got a head start, hermanos,” he gestures for the three of you to follow him further into the room, before his calculating eyes glance back at you, “y hermana.”

It’s an unknown, entirely different feeling that erupts inside of your chest at the inclusion. Rodolfo was clearly the most soft spoken man of the three, but he had an intelligence to him that you couldn’t wait to unpack. And he trusted you. Or so you had gathered, anyway.

However.

First things first.

“...Where’s Alejandro? I thought he was Mexican Special Forces?” It was, admittedly, a unique kind of embarrassing – how out of the loop you felt, considering you were a colonel under Graves’ command. You’d heard the man’s name before, but it was usually just paired with barracks gossip and warnings to steer clear. Some joke about how the only one who could kill Alejandro, was the soldier himself.

Moving along with Rodolfo, you’re surprised when it’s Soap who supplies you the answer.

“Your fuckwit of a Commander’s got ‘im,” he curses, the words grating and harsh. Deserved, of course it was deserved, yet it was still odd hearing such disrespect for the man of whom you’d idolised for so long.

Of whom you’d given everything.

Switching a light on, Rodolfo stops in front of a large table, a map laid out across the top of it. Your eyes go wide at the intricacies – focusing as the man leans over and presses a finger towards a highlighted spot, watching the three of you where you stand on the other side. Dust floats near the source of the lamp, and the scent of grime hits you a moment later, a familiar thing.

“Graves is holding him here,” Rodolfo explains, his previously mischievous expression settling into a firm, military-grade frown.

“His own personal black site prison,” Soap scoffs, subconsciously flexing his fingers around the straps of his vest. His focus is utterly devoted to the map in front of him, but his anxiety shows itself through the tiniest of movements.

Rubbing his spare hand down his face, Rodolfo lets out a long, strewn-out sigh. “My men are locked in there, too.”

“Then let’s get them back,” you supply with a small shrug when all eyes shoot your direction.

“That’s obvious, lass,” Soap says, lacking any hint of his previous vitriol when he looks around the room. “How we get ‘em back is the question.”

“By breaking in,” Ghost answers, the retort as simple as breathing.

If you weren’t so receptive to body movements, to the smallest of expressions, you’d’ve missed it. Even then, you doubted that anyone could miss how Soap’s eyes soften when he looks to his Lieutenant, how his breath softly hitches in his throat.

You want to claw out your eyes with a rusty spoon.

By the look on Rodolfo’s face, he feels much the same – until he catches you staring, and then his face twists into something much more cryptic. Like a man trying to solve a puzzle without all of the pieces, being forced to jam spares into spots that just won’t fit.

“We need weapons,” you startle out, the words surprising even yourself. You don’t go back on them, don’t even think to. “If we want to stand a fighting chance – we need firepower.”

“Who said you’re with us?” Ghost questions snarkily, but when you go to reply, you find that Rodolfo’s moved to the corner of the room, switching on even more lights, displaying a wrought iron door.

Sliding it open, you feel like a kid on Christmas morning as you take note of the supplies within.

Rodolfo shrugs, but the small, smug grin on his face doesn’t dispel. “It’s well-stocked. This is Ale we’re talking about.”

The affectionate nickname is something you store away for later. ‘Well-stocked’ is certainly an understatement – guns of all types line the walls within the room, all types of bombs and grenades along with it.

“Alright,” Ghost huffs out, the closest to appreciative that a man like him can get.

Soap is much more upfront about his joy. “My man!” He laughs, his dimples etched into his features like the light spattering of freckles over his upper cheeks and nose bridge. “We’re gonna need new wheels. Preferably up-armoured.”

Digging into his pocket, Rodolfo pulls out a set of keys, tossing them over to Ghost with relaxed shoulders. Turning, shock must be evident on all of you, because Rodolfo lets out a low chuckle. “Your wish is my command, hermanos y hermana.”

To the far end of the room, within the adjoined stables, is a fully-armoured forward drive of some sort – sleek and black and fucking perfect.

“Alejandro thought of everything,” Ghost admires, and when you look to him, you swear that you can see a hint of hope shining in his darkened eyes. Your heart skips a beat on its own accord, and you’re absorbed by the all-consuming want to pull it out of your chest with your bare hands, just so it never does such a thing again.

“Yeah, he did,” Soap whistles, before turning back around to face your small band of misfits. With a determined grin, he says as if it’s an afterthought, “Let’s go get ‘im.”

With a stern resolve and an even sterner disposition, you walk alongside your newfound teammates, and get ready for the most difficult mission of your military career.

*

When you’d, stupidly, recklessly, decided to play good guy and helps out the 141 and Los Vaqueros, you hadn’t taken into account how you’d be at the bottom of the totem pole.

While the three men you were working alongside were all considerably close, you were an outsider. At that, an outsider who had, only a few hours ago, decided to swap sides from enemy to ally.

Being paired with Ghost is, arguably, the most gut-wrenching job in your life. By the time that Rodolfo finds Alejandro through the CCTV system, you’re nearly entirely covered in dried blood, and your head thumps with a headache.

Not a headache from war – a headache from the fucking twat with a shitty DIY job for a military get-up.

“You’re seriously the worst,” you grit out, wiping off a bit of Shadow blood that’s been sprayed on your cheek. “I seriously can’t fucking believe that any one of your mates can tolerate you.”

“Who needs ‘mates’ when I have my boys?” Ghost quips back, wiping off his bloody dagger onto his vest, before slotting it back into its rightful position on his belt. His ability to blend into the night, even with the prison lights on, is uncanny – the only tell the white of his stitched-in skull.

You mock a disgusted sound, sticking out your tongue. “You sound like a fuckboy.”

“A what?” And, although it sounds nothing like a choke, you’re sure that it’s an instinctual question.

The sound of a helicopter up ahead has the two of you pausing in your tracks, feud coming to a quick halt. Looking up, you struggle to see the vehicle in the black of night, but you manage to spot the slowly circling heli above the prison.

“Ghost, Sweetheart, what’s yer status?” Soap’s voice trickles in through your comms. Ghost glances at you, before he answers on your behalf, ever the control-freak.

“Comin’ your way.”

Falling into step side-by-side, you focus on the wet gravel underneath your feet, avoiding making any communication with the man to your right.

“Copy. We’re on the move,” Soap replies, before Rodolfo cuts in.

“Heads up on the helo,” he warns. You find that you much prefer him over the other two – in fact, under any other circumstance, you could see the two of you becoming good friends. Maybe, if everything goes well, that could be a possibility – a positive in your world of negatives.

“Don’t think we’re in his line of sight,” you respond, double-checking your route and the helicopter's position in the sky. Rodolfo had warned you all, debriefing in the drive here, that helicopters would likely show up at some point.

Minutes pass, with small comms between the lot of you, when you finally spot the familiar figures belonging to the other half of your precarious team. 

Soap and Rodolfo stand at the entrance, before the two turn at the sound of your and Ghost’s footsteps. They both seem to visibly loosen their stiff shoulders, seeing you both uninjured – and if you do the same, you pray that no one notices.

“The door’s locked,” Soap informs you all, gesturing to the steel entrance5.

With a small hum, Rodolfo reaches for the pack on his vest. “We’ll need to breach it,” he explains, but before he can grab a charger, Ghost raises a hand to stop him.

“No, Rudy –” And that is a nickname that you’ll be using later, “Knock.”

Rodolfo seems apprehensive, but he agrees anyway, giving all three of you separate glances. “On me…”

All of you getting into readying positions, Rodolfo knocks on the door, the sound echoing loud enough to have your blood pounding in your ears.

A moment later, a Shadow – one you don’t recall having met – pushes open the door and moves to step outside. However, Rodolfo and Ghost are quick to neutralise him, softly dropping his body to the floor.

Pushing through the entrance, everyone except for you shoot a Shadow dead – clearing the room in less than twenty seconds. It’s impressive, how smoothly run the operation is, considering the lack of proper authority or guidance.

You’re the first to spot some more Shadows moving your way, down the stairs – calling it out. “More Shadows from the second floor – watch out!”

This time, you find yourself the cause of two men falling to the ground, blood pooling underneath their lifeless bodies. Your team doesn't give you time to second guess, to mourn, before they’re encouraging you to follow them up the stairs.

“Ale’s up here, let’s go!” Rodolfo urges, his voice bordering on a kind of desperation reminiscent of a boy enlisting for the first time.

Like expected, Alejandro’s cell is down the hall, sat to the far right. Two Shadows guard the steel door, but Soap and Rodolfo are quick to light them up, successfully clearing the entire two floors. You’re ashamed of how relieved you feel, being gifted the small mercies of not having to kill your previous subordinates, unless necessary.

You feel, more than see, Ghost’s heavy gaze on you. When you look back up from the gun in your hands, however, he’s turned completely away – and if you were a less accurate person, you’d have thought you were imagining things.

“There’s Alejandro’s cell.” Stopping at the steel door, Rodolfo adjusts his grip on the gun, before giving you an encouraging jerk of his head. “Open it up, me and Soap will cover you.”

Another small mercy, you think, as Ghost reaches into his backpack and pulls out a set of bolt cutters, regarding you stiffly. “When I pop this lock, you push in,” he directs you curtly, and you bite back a retort. You knew the process like the back of your hand – you had no need for an explanation.

The ‘especially from him’ goes unsaid.

With precise, practised movements, Ghost positions the bolt cutters, and pushes open the door.

As soon as you take one step into the cell, a large hand wraps around the back of your neck, slamming your face into the concrete wall, a blinding pain shooting through your retinas. Letting out a small yelp, your chest rattles as your hands wildly raise in an imitation of surrender.

“Alejandro! Let go of ‘er! It’s us!” Soap calls out, and you swallow unhealthy amounts of air. That hit had taken more out of you than you’d expected – and your harsh breaths were making that incredibly apparent.

The grip on the scruff of your neck slackens when Rodolfo shoots off in quickfire Spanish, “Coronel, relájate, cabron, somos nosotros.”

Your cheek aches and your head pounds as the hand removes itself entirely, allowing for you to take in lungfuls of oxygen.

“Soap, Ghost!” Alejandro bursts out, and as you rise to your feet unsteadily, you watch as he thumps both of them on the back of their shoulders, before turning to Rodolfo with an expression that could only be described as longing. “...Rudy.”

“Didn’t think we’d leave ya, did ye?” Soap chuckles, oblivious to the thread of tension between the two men. 

Whatever silent conversation had occured between the two enforcers is quickly cut as Alejandro accepts the shake of Soap’s hand, a feral grin wide on his features. “What took you so long, pendejos?”

“A traitor with an attitude is what,” Ghost inputs, and really, how much self control can a Lieutenant lack? Wiping at your cheek, you let your hand fall once more to your side as you meet Alejandro’s inquisitive gaze head-on.

“I’m Graves’ previous colonel,” you extend your hand, “And I’m your best bet at getting your base back.”

You expect suspicion, uproar, maybe – or at least questioning, similar to that of Rodolfo’s.

Instead, all you’re met with is Alejandro’s manic smile sharpening, and a slap on the back of your own. Ruffling your hair, he uses his free hand to accept the gun Rodolfo’s extending towards him, shooting you a knowing glance.

“Sounds good, hermana. Welcome to how real men fight.”

taglist. @lilpothoscuttings @jng-yuan @iruzias @insatiablekittie @1wh4re1nova @kaoyamamegami @supernaturalstilinski @inthemiddle0feverywhere @msecho19 @nogood-boyo @alfa-jor @lalashhyl @letmeapologise @honeybeeznutz @1mawh0re

[cindersnows]

short essay thing i wrote in avf about plural tsc that i feel like people should see bc its so interesting to me

just to preface i highly highly doubt this is all intentional on alan+teams part due to the fact that plurality is just ,, not that well known. also im not too knowledgable on non traumagenic systems and all the stuff surrounding that so i will just be speaking from what i know from my own experience + research

so anyways. from the start of sec's life she has been kind of in a high stress situation. from the getgo she had to hide her existence from alan due to likely knowing the fate of the other living sticks he has made + the fact that she very much isnt supposed to be alive. she lets her guard down, makes friends, and then almost instantly theyre all deleted. although did and osdd1 form from long-term trauma (often accompanied by cptsd) and all of this only happened in a few minutes, at the very least this provides the basis for some sort of dissociation

theres a moment where she glitches and changes to black for a second. obviously back then this was intended to be an allusion to the fact that she's the chosen one's return, since alan+team hadn't planned ava s2 yet and tco was just regular dead atp, but its interesting to consider the sudden change in her personality. shes not even shown to be overly angry like she usually is, just a. Calm?? specifically the same calm that preceeds her beating up tdl in ava s2.

notably that moment in s2 where she unlocks her powers is like. sudden change in personality and demeanor, suddenly gaining the powers, and memory loss afterwards. even though she only really switches between two "modes" it's reminiscent of switching between two alters (while its uncommon for a system to have only two alters it's not unheard of, especially in cases of osdd-1a where theres not much distinction between personality states).

i said ava/e specifically because the aveducation videos in particular provide a very interesting insight into tsc's psyche. while alan said in his avg avma video that the series isn't canon, a few things about the series have already been retconned. avphys was originally supposed to be the last entry in the series, but with avma+avphys+avgeo's massive success and the lead animator's interest in these sort of topics i wouldn't be surprised if they continued to make more, especially considering that they're now interconnected via avgeo. phi, who appeared at the end of avma, is the protagonist of avgeo, and there's that scene at the end that teases avphys that i'll also get into in a sec because it's very interesting.

about why i think it represents tsc's psyche specifically and not just some math dimensions that tsc happens to stumble upon: in the avg avma video dj proposes the dream theory, that this is all happening in a dream during ava s3. noncanon of course but considering alan himself knows about it and ave seems to be gaining some kind of overarching arc, as well as the fact that its releasing between ava s3 episodes (which is going to focus on tsc's powers) i wouldn't be surprised if the episodes slowly grow more and more representative of her mental state as she works towards properly unlocking her powers

anyways speculation aside. avphys introduces a second second (haha). this is explained through the mechanics of time loops and whatnot, but at the same time, the hat tsc seems to know a lot more than regular tsc, having.. basically created the universe. even if our tsc can then explain this to the next tsc, hat tsc is shown to literally create the entire universe avphys takes place in (again tying back to her powers of creation) and also act much calmer and composed compared to our tsc. it seems like hat tsc is somewhat representative of the state tsc gets into when she unlocks her powers, shown both times in ava s1 and 2. shes cool and mysterious and all knowing i want her so bad

the scene at the end of avgeo is the most compelling thing for this idea (and the push that made me go "ohhhh my god multiplies her). hat tsc appears once more, this time seemingly wanting to communicate more with our tsc, but being cut short by tsc getting surprised and falling. the most interesting part to me is the imagery in this part— there's tons and tons of tsc's, all reflected, and being reflections makes them slightly different from what we see (of course light refraction will always make things appear slightly different; discolored, blurred, flipped etc). hat tsc is framed as Also a reflection despite being shown as different person/personality state.

i just got back from dinner and lost my train of thought. im not sure if this is enough for other people to consider her plural but at the very least i feel like interpreting her as such does enhance one's reading and understanding of her, as well as how you write her (for those who do).

[turtlesocksv2]

Liveblogging DFF episode 10

Last episode we got some past reveals, some vows to tell the truth, a spanking, and Regina George enjoying the chaos. Can't wait to see what happens next.

The shot of Tan visibly pulling himself back into character as a Person With Hinges is so good. And so funny.

I do like White being like "you told me you wouldn't be like this!" to Tee. Maybe White does know more about Tee than we think.

Tan doing the wire to get Uncle Dang is so cold. Poor Uncle Dang. Tank knocking Top the fuck out is 10/10 though.

Ok but the TanTop eye contact and manhandling at the brainwashing "Calm down. Non's not going to hurt you if you protect him." 👀

"i never would have let you all come here if I knew Tan was going to kill you all!" well maybe you should have, Phi! You lost focus! You've done pretty much jack shit to get answers for like 2 years, of course Tan resorted to a little murder. I still love you Phi but your lack of resolve disappoints me.

Jin's a judgy bitch for someone who did revenge porn on a boy he wasn't even dating. Oh, you're surprised Non had people care about him enough to go to such lengths? You don't like being manipulated? I mean, I'd be judgy too if people were trying to murder me so I get it. It's just funny.

"Actually I don't have the right to be mad at you" You really don't! but also you do just a little bit.

Cool Motive, Still Revenge Porn for a guy you weren't even dating. It'd be one thing to track Phi down and send HIM the video, if you were really actually caring about Non 'cheating'. Another beast entirely to post it online for everyone to see. though of course he was so drunk it very well could have been Tee/Top/Por/etc uploading it from a shared drive for their movie and Jin might just think he's the one who did it. But he still recorded it in the first place, for which there is no forgiveness.

Phi with the axe 👀😍

"Everything's happening just like in Non's script! Look at Top, it's like he's possessed!" "....Actually I think he's just high." Aaaaaaand White just got added to Tan's Murder List. Baby White, you have to stop. Your eyes too big. Your logic too smart. Your tripod too tough. They'll kill you.

Phi and Jin getting lost in the woods, because now that they've talked to each other they have too much information. they can't just reunite with the group or the murder party is over 2 episodes early.

so like, the Janta Cult is real, right? or at least not something Non made up for the movie. He had to have known Por's family had a mansion in that area and it gave him the idea for the movie. The shrine existing was clearly not built for the movie either. I want More Janta Cult! give me More Janta Cult! Stop giving me hints about supernatural murder cults in woods that bend and change to get you lost within them if you're not going to follow through!

god Phi wants to badly to be the Strong Protector Boyfriend Who Fixes Things.

And of course the second Phi and Jin reunite with the group, Jin immediately outs Tan. really interesting that Fluke freaks out immediately after Tan is outed as New and takes White hostage.

Oh shit, Fluke is absolutely going over that railing isn't he?

Tan's gleeful surprise when Top gets shot.

Fluke's breakdown is so good.

Oh next episode is going to be fun.

[baldy-wan-kenobi]

Okay, as promised, part 1 of my mech smut.

Here we go:

(Also, if you don't like, or you think it's cringe, you're right. It's cringe. I'm cringe.)

Part 2 here: (warning, there is some kinky shit and some non-con. Okay? You're all adults, act like it.)

It was a well known fact that pilots were freaks. Nobody quite knew where they’d picked up that bit of information, but they all knew it to be true nonetheless. So, when the crew of the FNV Demeter learned that their marine complement would soon be joined by two veteran pilots, no one knew what to expect. After all, getting a Pilot was a crapshoot, or so they’d heard. Some seemed like normal people, until they hopped into an 80-ton mech and blasted a whole platoon of insurgents to hell with one shot. Others were barely human, more like an empty shell that lived only to follow orders. In truth, nobody knew what to expect.

However, three days before the pilots were scheduled to arrive, Master Sergeant Harrison called all 80 marines under his command into the mustering hanger that they’d typically assemble in for deployment, despite the fact that the whole 9th fleet was on standby, awaiting orders from FleetCom.

“Listen up, Maggots!” the Sergeant called, shouting above the constant din of the hangar. “As I’m sure you’ve heard, we’ll be getting a couple of new additions to the crew at our next port of call. Big old metal ones, as a matter of fact.” The assembled men and women murmured their assent before the man continued. “At some point during your term of service, there may come a time when one of the pilots comes to you with a proposition for, shall we say, recreational activities.” his face took a dark turn then, as he looked each and every marine in the eye.

“Some of you, namely the very brave and the very stupid, may see this as a welcome opportunity. After all, who wouldn’t like to have a nice, slim little pilot in your bed.” the sergeant’s eyes were scanning now, gaze fixing itself on those most likely to ignore his advice. “After all, they look so small, so soft and ditzy. Anyone would jump at the chance to have a nice little doll instead of the same dirty sock, right?” Despite his call-and-response, nobody answered, either too ashamed or two awkward to say a word.

“I am forced, by FleetCom, to advise you against such action. These are highly-trained, highly-augmented war machines, most of whom see their mech as a better representation of themselves than their bodies. They are not docile, or weak, they are understimulated, because their bodies are acclimated to the sensory data of a 80 ton mech suit, and many use sex as a way to cope with that. So, while the pilots may seem like an easy way to score a cheap night of intimate company, I can guarantee you, your idea of sex and theirs differs wildly, and it will not end well for you. Are we clear?” As the assembled marines barked in the affirmative, the Sergeant dismissed them, knowing full well that most of them would dismiss his warning the instant a pilot started to rub up against them just right.

After all, he thought, rubbing the surgical scars on the back of his neck. It sure as hell didn’t stop you.

Phi-715 was getting bored. They had boarded the ship two weeks ago, Themself, Gamma-14, and their support crews, guided by the careful hand and calming voice of their Handlers. Now, however, the novelty of the ship was beginning to wear off. Their augments were begging for stimulation, once they'd finished exploring the ship, poking their nose into every nook and cranny they weren't immediately shoved out of.

So, one day, they sent a message to Handler Barbara, asking if they could go down to the common areas of the ship, and socialize with the ship's crew. The ship wouldn’t be leaving for the front for another week, and 715 needed something to take the edge off or they were going to lose it.

Thanks to 715's Gen-Phi augments, they were far more normal and well adjusted than other mech pilots, with no need for sedation or stims when not in their body. Pilots with earlier, more crude augmentation, were often kept comatose in-between deployments, to minimize the risk of psychosis or self-harm, and even pilots like Gamma-14 were kept on a stimulant cocktail to keep them stable when separated from their other halves. This made them behave very oddly to those who didn't understand, who could never understand the thrill of rushing Mach 2 winds on their titanium frames, who would never know the bliss of becoming more than human, becoming a god of war, and laying waste to-

They cut themself off. After all, it would do them no good to get all worked up. Handler Barbara had specifically instructed them to not "break any of them, this time."

It wouldn't have been the first time, nor even the second. While they weren't as violent in sex as someone like 14, they still had their needs, and they were definitely on the extreme side, for baselines. So, in this one instance, they decided to disobey their handler. After all, what was the harm in it, if they were careful with their partner? Handler Barbara might never even find out.

So, as they made their way down to the common rooms where the Marines spent their free time, they had the full intention of bringing one of them back to their room

And indeed, things were going exactly to plan. The moment they walked into the room, every person in the room fell silent. Phi knew they were attractive, to baselines. They carried an androgynous grace about them, all legs and slim waist, jaw too sharp and broad to be entirely feminine, but eyes too wide and curves too pronounced to be quite masculine. It helped, too, that their hair was always nothing more than a light fuzz clinging to their scalp, lending them an otherworldly appearance. Some described them as an angel, others as a living doll. There were very few immune to their charm, and they reveled in it. For a few moments, they simply stood in the door, letting anyone with an interest get a good look. Then, they strode to a plush-looking chair in the corner, gait loping like it belonged to a creature far larger and heavier than their pathetic form. Now, all they had to do was wait.

In the end, it only took about 20 minutes before one of the marines worked up the courage to approach them, but they were perhaps the longest 20 minutes of their life. While they sat in the comfortable chair, they were constantly in motion, bouncing a leg, pinching or scratching their arms, or otherwise trying to provide their mind with any sort of physical stimulus.

However, when the first Marine approached them, they couldn't have been happier. He was well built, but not too bulky, tall and lean, but not too gangly. Best of all, he looked like he thought he owned the world, which set their heart racing at once.

He staggered his way through some half-baked pickup line, but by the time he was halfway through, they had had enough. They grabbed him by his shirt collar, smashing their lips into his, in something that could be called a kiss, if one was willing to accept a particularly violent definition of the term. When they pulled away, his eyes were blown wide, clearly not expecting the savagery with which 715 had met his advances.

They then stood on their tiptoes, whisperering a simple 'my room?' Into his ear, then, following his nod, drug him away, down the ship's corridors until they arrived at 715's plain, unmarked cabin.

The two were inside in moments, grabbing onto each other and groping in ever-more forceful ways, grinding into each other, searching for stimulation anywhere they could find it. However, 715 was impatient and horny, and they wanted him inside right now. So, in one movement, 715 ripped his trousers down the front, reaching into the man's underwear and fishing out the real prize. He wasn't particularly impressive, but to them, he was a feast at a starving man's table. At once they were at work, taking the man's cock into their throat as deep as they could, trying to choke themselves on it as the man let out a punched gasp as his knees buckled.

They didn't even notice, however, caught up in a haze of lust and stimulus, grabbing him by the hips and keeping him in place as their head bobbed up and down on his length, only letting go to guide the soldier’s hand into their short hair. He quickly caught the gist, grippong 715’s hair in his fist and dragging them up and down his cock. 715’s mind fogged as the soldier continued, using their throat like a cheap toy, like it was nothing more than a warm, wet hole to get him off, and 715 loved it. They let themselves go, drifted away and gave up control of themselves, choosing instead to ride the wave of sensation to its finish.

Above them, the soldier grunted out something. What, they weren't quite sure, but they knew what it meant. So, 715 snaked their arms around their partner's waist, planting their palms on the toned flesh of his lower back to pull the soldier's length as deep into their throat as they could, scraping their teeth along the way to push him over the edge, emptying himself down their throat with a desperate, strained groan. they drank him down eagerly, relishing in the pungent taste, while he convulsed in the throes of ecstasy above.

As the pulsing of the man’s length began to slow and fade, 715 pulled away, dragging their teeth along his cock until they released it with a filthy-sounding pop. The man fell backwards, knees buckling under him as he fell like dead weight onto their bed. All the better, thought 715, as they hauled themselves up, straddling the man’s hips and grinding down on him as they bit a crescent into the meat of the man’s shoulder. The man hissed, and they felt hands cupping their breasts as the man sucked a mark into their neck. Okay, they thought, Enough foreplay. I need to get stuffed, Now. As if the soldier could read their thoughts, he reached between their thighs to line himself up, prodding their soaking entrance with his swollen head. With barely a moment of pause, they began to sink, lowering their hips as-

Suddenly, an ear-splitting alarm shattered the frenzied intensity of the moment. The two met eyes, suddenly bringing both lovers into an immediate focus, the blaring klaxon destroying entirely their earlier mood of mindless lust. As the two separated, they donned their clothes with the practiced ease of those conditioned to be ready at any moment, hearing the captain’s voice crackle over the intercom with masked urgency.

“Men and women of the FNV Demeter: The dock is under attack, I repeat, the dock is under attack. Insurgent elements are attempting to destroy or disable all void-capable vessels berthed, and slaughter all Federation-aligned personnel. Marines, report to your Company Commanders and prepare to give them hell, Men-At-Arms, report to your MA’s, and prepare to repel boarders, and Pilots…” the captain paused, seeming to consider his words carefully. “Mobile Suit elements have been observed. Report to your handlers and remove the threat.” At that, a vicious smile overcame 715’s face. Finally, they thought, some action.

As they both rushed off to their destination, they spared little thought for what could have been, had the rebels not attacked. After all, it was pointless to think about such things, pointless to have such regrets, when every fight, every clash of steel and flesh, could be your last. So, as the Marine grabbed his weapon, following his brothers and sisters to a near-certain death, and 715 was once more integrated into their real body, the two of them were thinking much the same thing:

Well, it was nice while it lasted.

[bitacrytic]

Little Brothers

Trigger warning - really weird shit mentioned.

-

“Porsche!” Tankhun said, bursting into Porsche’s office that morning as Porsche sighed heavily.

“Whatever it is, I’m sure it could have been an email, Phi,” Porsche said.

“Have you read Brown Legacy by 22xx?” Tankhun asked, slamming his phone down on Porsche’s desk.

“I have not,” Porsche replied, slowly struggling to type out what he was working on before Takhun arrived.

“It’s about our brothers,” Tankhun stated.

Tankhun had to be talking about the site and if he was, then it was romance. Seeing as Porsche had only one brother, it had to be Chay, but there was no way the story would feature Kinn. Most writers liked to explore Kinn’s infatuation with Porsche. Not Chay. Which meant that Tankihun was talking about-

“You mean Kim and Chay?” 

“Yes,” he said. “Why aren’t you more worried about this? They’re writing disgusting stories about your baby brother,” he said, emphasizing “baby”. “And Kim.”

“It’s fiction. Let them have their fun.”

“Have you seen the tags on the story?”

“It doesn’t matter. They can write whatever they want.”

“Non-con,” Tankhun said, reading from his phone as he began pacing. “Enemies-to-lovers.”

“Understandable.”

“About a sixteen-year-old boy?” Taknhun asked.

Porsche paused for a second, thinking about that. Generally, he tended to avoid stories that had his brother in them because he didn’t want that in his brain. Not when those stories were spank-bank material. But now that Tankhun was mentioning it, Porsche wasn't so sure he liked the idea of grown men writing about his brother in that way.

“Okay, maybe it’s a little weird that they’re writing that,” Porsche conceded.

“Only the stories? Aren’t you worried about what this means for your brother and Kim?”

“It’s fiction, Phi. They’re not going to read it and do everything they see there.”

“This, coming from the man who re-enacts his own sex stories.”

Porsche cringed again, praying for the millionth time that his brother was nothing like him.

“There’s outrageous stuff in here. Which might be fine, if I didn't think it would affect impressionable young minds like Chay’s.”

Porsche reached for the phone with a worried frown as Tankhun gave it to him. Quickly, he scanned the tags, looking for what was so wrong with them, and with each tag, Porsche’s eyes just kept getting wider and wider because…

Orgasm denial…

Bestiality…

Incest…

Skat…

“Oh my god!” Porsche threw the phone away.

“You see my problem?” Tankhun asked.

“They shouldn’t be writing that.”

Tankhun stopped moving as he faced Porsche. “I think we’re both worried about different things here.”

“We have to shut that site down right now.”

“No, we have to make sure that Kim stays the fuck away from Chay.”

“What?” Porsche asked, a little confused by Tankhun’s words. 

“Look, Kim’s soul is old and wretched and dead, but Chay is still an angel. We have to keep them away from each other and make sure that Kim never gets it into his head that Chay is a viable romantic option.”

“Oh,” Porsche said, staring into Tankhun’s face and wondering how to explain to Tankhun that that ship had sailed.

Months ago. Porsche had known about Kim and Chay for a while and the fact that Tankhun thought the site would be to blame for that would have been funny if Porsche wasn’t plotting the destruction of the MansionOfMen website, right at that very second.

***

Read Another

[hadeschan]

item # K10D25

RARE Hong Prai Non Lohng, Nua Pong Gradook Phee, Lang Yant Daeng. An old powder amulet with a figure of a skeleton ghost resting in a casket with a red ink stamp of a cabalistic writings in the back. Made from holy powder blended with powder crushed from bones of Gradook Phee Tai Hong Jet Pacha, unknown origin.

……………………………………………………….

BEST FOR: Good ghosts against evil ghosts. You will NEVER be alone EVER, the spirits are with you everywhere you go. They are following you all the time. They watch your back, they protect you, and your family and prevent danger. They blinds people who are going to harm you. They cast magic charm and love spells on people around you. Not only the spirits may communicate with you in dreams, or be seen or heard in daily life, but they also provide affection and companionship. Mahasanay (Magic Charm) it helps turn you to prince charming in the eyes of girls, Metta Maha Niyom (it helps make people love you, and be nice to you), Kaa Kaai Dee (it helps tempt your customers to buy whatever you are selling and it helps attract new customers and then keep them coming back. Wealth & Prosperity, Maha Laap (it brings lucky wealth). It warns danger coming ahead, Klawklad Plodpai (it helps push you away from all danger), Kongkraphan (it makes you invulnerable to all weapon attack), and Maha-ut (it stops gun from shooting at you). Ponggan Poot-pee pee-saat Kunsai Mondam Sa-niat jan-rai Sat Meepit (it helps ward off evil spirit, demon, bad ghost, bad omen, bad spell, curse, accursedness, black magic, misfortune, doom, and poisonous animals). And this amulet helps protect you from manipulators, backstabbers, and toxic people. And Baihuay, the spirits of the dead may tell/give hints of winning lottery numbers.

……………………………………………………….

The process of making Buddha amulet that contains human remains with mystical herb/plants, and other holy materials is known as “Pong Prai Kumarn Maha Phood”, the Guru Monks who have ability to make this type of Holy Powder must have “Vicha Arkom” to control spirits that come with human remains and those sacred herb, NOT every monk could make Pong Prai Kumarn Maha Phood. It would bring disaster to those who made and those who wear amulets that contain this type of Holy Powder if the process of making was completely wrong! But we guarantee that this amulet was made by powerful master.

……………………………………………………….

Gradook Phee Tai Hong Jet Pacha

The human bone powder which were taken from 7 most haunted cremation sites. The Phee Tai Hong in Thai refers to death due to violence for example; homicide, suicide, traffic-related death. Those hairs of Phee Tai Hong used for making this amulet had to die on Saturday, and had their body cremations on Tuesday.

The spirit of Phee Tai Hong is believed to be trapped in the purgatory, and sunk in its own thought. Purgatory, also called The World between Worlds, is a spiritual realm that traps lost and tortured souls. Guru monks or White Robe Archan who has highest ability of magic to pull spirits of Phi Tai Hong out of the purgatory, and later enter the physical realm (human world), and ask his/her spirit to stay in the amulets. The spirit in this amulet will help its master to do anything his/her asks for, and the spirit would gain merits from helping its master, and carry its merits to the next world.

……………………………………………………….

*This amulet contains human remains. Not suitable for people who have Spectrophobia (the fear of ghosts). People who have Spectrophobia cannot control themselves while experiencing ghosts, they might have sudden cardiac death or cause harm to themselves from temporary loss of consciousness.

……………………………………………………….

DIMENSION: 4.90 cm high / 1.90 cm wide / 1.30 cm thick

……………………………………………………….

item # K10D25

Price: price upon request, pls PM and/or email us hadesamulet@protonmail.com

100% GENUINE WITH LIFETIME AUTHENTICITY GUARANTEE.

Item location: Bangkok, Thailand

Ships to: Worldwide

Delivery: Estimated 7 days handling time after receipt of cleared payment. Please allow additional time if international delivery is subject to customs processing.

Shipping: FREE Thailandpost International registered mail. International items may be subject to customs processing and additional charges.

Payments: PayPal / Western Union / MoneyGram /maybank2u.com / DBS iBanking / Wechat Pay / Alipay / Remitly

*********************************************

[onsunnyside]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐒𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧

𝐑𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 — Do not plagiarize, copy, repost/republish, adapt or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr, AO3, and Wattpad. My blog is 18+, so minors DNI. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel, etc.). All my works are fiction and may be dark or have triggering content: read all warnings before proceeding.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 — DARK THEMES, ELEMENTS & CONTENT. Such as; manipulation, blackmail, non-con, dub-con, violence, kidnapping, etc.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: All my main characters are of legal age and their descriptions are vague to be inclusive to all! (unless specified). All dividers, visuals and moodboards are made by me unless stated otherwise—I make all my visuals, moodboards, and dividers specifically for my stories, masterlists and blog, please don’t steal them. No pictures and gifs belong to me.

【 fluff, smut, angst, dark, (c)ompleted, request 】

˗ˏˋ𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭ˎˊ˗ | @onsunnysidelibrary | 𝐀𝐎𝟑 | 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐲'𝐬 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬

·༓☾ 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐒

𝐀 𝐓𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐀𝐜𝐭; series ⤜ d, f, s, a, r

✧࿐ Being an omega made you a victim to cruel destinies, trapped in roles designed to keep you submissive and quiet. Alphas have been on their shiny, golden pedestals for far too long and the world needed to change, and if it had to start with you at a college notorious for being ruled by alphas, then so be it. [dark A/B/O college au, dark alpha!fratboy!Ari Levinson x omega activist!reader, HC Verse]

𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧'𝐬 𝐋𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐜𝐲; series ⤜ d, f, s, a, r

✧࿐ Steve Rogers is the prideful golden-haired captain of the football team, the vice president of Arcadia Phi, and a gleaming star amongst the dull, forgettable faces of school. He shines with domineering entitlement and an unbreakable resolve, and you were doomed from the moment you stepped onto campus. Based on this ask. [dark A/B/O college AU, dark alpha!fratboy!Steve Rogers x omega sorority!reader, HC Verse]

𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐓𝐰𝐨; mini series ⤜ soft!d, f, s, a

✧࿐ When the innocent lamb is lost and alone, beasts are bound to come—only in your case, they’re disguised as virtuous, charming shepherds. [soft!dark Steve Rogers x naive!reader, soft!dark Ransom Drysdale x naive!reader, pining, possessive behaviour]

𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐭𝐬; series ⤜ d, f, s,

✧࿐ Ari has spent too long protecting you from the big bad world and all the monsters who inhabit it—including himself—for you to belong to someone else. [soft dark!stepbrother!Ari Levinson, innocent!reader, university au, stepcest, grey character undertones, fratboy!Ari, innocent/virgin!reader]

𝐊𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐚; (HCV Alternative Version) collection ⤜ d, f, s, a 

✧࿐ Draped in power, gold and glory—the alphas of Arcadia Phi set their sights on you, the new omega freshman. [dark A/B/O college AU, dark alpha!fratboy!cevans characters x omega!reader, HC Verse Alternative Version]

𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐲; one shot ⤜ s, d, r (c)

✧࿐ Sometimes the kindest souls suffer the most. Based on this ask. [dark!dilf!Ari Levinson x innocent!babysitter!reader, virgin!reader, fake relationship-esque]

𝐒𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐲 𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰; one shot ⤜ d, s (c)

✧࿐ Beware the quiet ones. [dark stalker!Ari Levinson, college au, IT guy!Ari, camboy!Ari, outcast!Ari, somnophilia]

𝐖𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐈 𝐌𝐚𝐲, 𝐖𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐈 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭; mini series ⤜ soft!d, s (c)

✧࿐ Your friends said Ari was playing with your little heart and pushed for you to end things, but it takes a lot more than a breakup text to get rid of him. And your stupid friends should’ve known better. [Ghostface!Ex-Boyfriend!Ari Levinson x airhead!reader. Murderer!Ari, possessive/obsessive behaviour, aphrodisiac, dumb!reader, manipulation, stealthing]

𝐆𝐨𝐝 𝐊𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐈…; one shot

𝐖𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐃𝐫𝐢𝐩 𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐚𝐲?; one shot

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐀 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝; alternative dark version ⤜ s, d

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐝 𝐄𝐲𝐞; alternative dark version ⤜ s, d

[greatworldwar2]

• Richard Winters

Richard Davis Winters, was an officer of the United States Army and a decorated war veteran. He is best known for having commanded Easy Company of the 2nd Battalion, 506th Parachute Infantry Regiment, part of the 101st Airborne Division, during World War II.

Winters was born in New Holland, Pennsylvania, to Richard and Edith Winters on January 21st, 1918. The family soon moved to nearby Ephrata, and then to Lancaster when he was eight years old. He graduated from Lancaster Boys High School in 1937 and attended Franklin and Marshall College. At Franklin and Marshall, Winters was a member of the Upsilon chapter of Delta Sigma Phi fraternity and participated in intramural football and basketball. He had to give up wrestling, his favorite sport, and most of his social activities for his studies and the part-time jobs that paid his way through college. He graduated in 1941 with a B.S in Economics. He obtained the highest academic standing in the business college. Following graduation, he enlisted in the Army to fulfill a one-year requirement of service, although he later wrote in his memoirs that at the time he "had no desire to get into the war" and that he had volunteered so that he would not be drafted later.

Winters enlisted in the United States Army on August 25th, 1941. In September, he underwent basic training at Camp Croft, South Carolina. He remained at Camp Croft to help train draftees and other volunteers, while the rest of his battalion was deployed to Panama. In April 1942, four months after the United States entered World War II, he was selected to attend Officer Candidate School (OCS) at Fort Benning, Georgia. There he became friends with Lewis Nixon, with whom he served throughout the war. He was commissioned as a second lieutenant in the infantry after graduating from OCS on July 2nd, 1942. During his officer training, Winters decided to join the parachute infantry, part of the U.S. Army's new airborne forces. Upon completing training, he returned to Camp Croft to train another class of draftees as there were no positions available in the paratroopers at that time. After five weeks, he received orders to join the 506th Parachute Infantry Regiment (506th PIR) at Camp Toccoa in Georgia. Winters arrived at Toccoa in mid-August 1942 and was assigned to Company E, 2nd Battalion, 506th PIR, which later became better known as "Easy Company" in accordance with the contemporaneous Joint Army/Navy Phonetic Alphabet. Serving under First Lieutenant Herbert Sobel, Winters was made platoon leader of 2nd Platoon, earning a promotion to first lieutenant in October 1942, and made acting company executive officer, although this was not made official until May 1943. The training at Toccoa was very tough. Of the 500 officers who had volunteered, only 148 completed the course; of 5,000 enlisted volunteers, only 1,800 were ultimately selected for duty as paratroopers.

On June 10th, 1943, after more tactical training at Camp Mackall, North Carolina, the 506th PIR was attached to Major General William Lee's 101st "Screaming Eagles" Airborne Division. Later in the year, they embarked on the Samaria, and arrived in Liverpool on September 15th, 1943. They proceeded to Aldbourne, Wiltshire, where they began intense training for the Allied invasion of Europe planned for spring 1944. In November and December 1943, while Easy Company was at Aldbourne, the tension that had been brewing between Winters and Sobel came to a head. For some time, Winters had privately held concerns over Sobel's ability to lead the company in combat. Many of the enlisted men in the company had come to respect Winters for his competence and had also developed their own concerns about Sobel's leadership. Winters later said that he never wanted to compete with Sobel for command of Easy Company; still, Sobel attempted to bring Winters up on trumped-up charges for "failure to carry out a lawful order". Feeling that his punishment was unjust, Winters requested that the charge be reviewed by court-martial. After Winters' punishment was set aside by the battalion commander, Major Robert L. Strayer, Sobel brought Winters up on another charge the following day. During the investigation, Winters was transferred to the Headquarters Company and appointed as the battalion mess officer. Following this, though Winters tried to talk them out of it, a number of the company's non commissioned officers (NCOs) gave the regimental commander, Colonel Sink, an ultimatum: either Sobel be replaced, or they would surrender their stripes. Sink was not impressed and several of the NCOs were subsequently demoted and/or transferred out of the company. Nevertheless, Sink realized that something had to be done and decided to transfer Sobel out of Easy Company, giving him command of a new parachute training school at Chilton Foliat. Winters' court-martial was set aside and he returned to Easy Company as leader of 1st Platoon. Winters later said he felt that despite his differences with Sobel, at least part of Easy Company's success had been due to Sobel's strenuous training and high expectations.

In February 1944, First Lieutenant Thomas Meehan was given command of Easy Company. Meehan remained in command of the company until the invasion of Normandy, when at about 1:15 a.m. on June 6th, 1944, D-Day, the C-47 Skytrain transporting the company Headquarters Section was shot down by German anti-aircraft fire, killing everyone on board. Winters jumped that night and landed safely near Sainte-Mère-Église. Losing his weapon during the drop, he nevertheless oriented himself, assembled several paratroopers, including members of the 82nd Airborne Division, and proceeded toward the unit's objective near Sainte-Marie-du-Mont. With Meehan's fate unknown, Winters became the de facto commanding officer (CO) of Easy Company, which he remained for the duration of the Normandy campaign. Later that day, Winters led an attack that destroyed a battery of German 105mm howitzers, which were firing onto the causeways that served as the principal exits from Utah Beach. The Americans estimated that the guns were defended by about a platoon of 50 German troops, while Winters had 13 men. This action south of the village of Le Grand-Chemin, would later be called the Brécourt Manor Assault. winters was successful in destroying the battery, in addition Winters also obtained a map that showed German gun emplacements near Utah Beach. On July 1th, 1944, Winters was told that he had been promoted to captain. The next day, he was presented with the Distinguished Service Cross by General Omar Bradley, then the commander of the U.S. First Army. Shortly after, the 506th Parachute Infantry was withdrawn from France and returned to Aldbourne, England, for reorganization.

In September 1944, the 506th PIR parachuted into the Netherlands, near the village of Son, north of Eindhoven, as part of Operation Market Garden, a combined airborne and armored operation. On October 5th, 1944, a German force attacked the 2nd Battalion's flank and threatened to break through the American lines. At the same time, four men in an Easy Company patrol were wounded. Returning to the headquarters, they reported that they had encountered a large group of Germans at a crossroads about 1,300 yards (1,200 m) to the east of the company command post. Realizing the seriousness of the situation, Winters took one squad from 1st Platoon, and moved off toward the crossroads, where they observed a German machine gun firing to the south, toward the battalion headquarters, from a long distance. After surveying the position, Winters led the squad in an assault on the gun crew. Soon after taking the position, the squad took fire from a German position opposite them. Estimating that this position was held by at least a platoon, Winters called for reinforcements from the rest of the 1st Platoon and led them in a successful assault. Later it was discovered there had been at least 300 Germans. On October 9th, Winters became the battalion executive officer (XO), following the death of the battalion's former XO, Major Oliver Horton. Although this position was normally held by a major, Winters filled it as a captain. The 101st Airborne Division was withdrawn to France soon afterward. On December 16th, 1944, German forces launched a counter-offensive against the Western Allies in Belgium, commencing the Battle of the Bulge. The 101st Airborne Division was trucked to the Bastogne area two days later. Still serving as XO of the 2nd Battalion, Winters helped defend the line northeast of Bastogne near the town of Foy. The entire 101st Airborne and elements of the 10th Armored Division battled about 15 German divisions, supported by heavy artillery and armor, for nearly a week before General George Patton's U.S. Third Army broke through the German lines surrounding Bastogne, reopening ground supply lines. After being relieved, the 2nd Battalion attacked Foy on January 9th, 1945. On March 8th, 1945, the 2nd Battalion was moved to Haguenau in Alsace, after which Winters was promoted to major, and Winters took over as acting commander of the 2nd Battalion.

In April, the battalion carried out defensive duties along the Rhine before deploying to Bavaria later in the month. In early May, the 101st Airborne Division received orders to capture Berchtesgaden. The 2nd Battalion set out from the town of Thalem through streams of surrendering German soldiers and reached the alpine retreat at noon on May 5th, 1945. Three days later, the war in Europe ended. After the end of hostilities, Winters remained in Europe as the process of occupation and demobilization began. Even though he had enough points to return to the United States, he was told that he was needed in Germany. Later, he was offered a regular (non-reserve) commission, but declined it. He finally embarked from Marseille aboard the Wooster Victory on November 4th, 1945. Winters was recommended for the Medal of Honor for his leadership at Brécourt Manor, but instead received the U.S. Army's second-highest award for combat valor, the Distinguished Service Cross. After leaving the Army, Winters worked for his close wartime friend Captain Lewis Nixon at Nixon's family business, Nixon Nitration Works of Edison, New Jersey, rising to become general manager in 1950. On May 16th, 1948, Winters married Ethel Estoppey. In June 1951, Winters was recalled to active duty in the Army during the Korean War. He was ordered to join the 11th Airborne Division at Fort Campbell, Kentucky, but he was given six months to report and in this time he traveled to Washington, D.C., to speak to General Anthony McAuliffe, in the hope that he could convince the Army not to send him to Korea. Winters unfortunately was desired for his service and then reported to Fort Dix, New Jersey, where he was assigned as a regimental planning and training officer.

While at Fort Dix, Winters became disillusioned with his job, finding that he had little enthusiasm for training officers who lacked discipline and did not attend their scheduled classes. As a result, he volunteered to attend Ranger School, where he passed and became a Ranger. He then received orders to deploy to Korea and traveled to Seattle, where, during pre-deployment administration, he was offered the option of resigning his commission, which he accepted. Winters was discharged from the Army and became a production supervisor at a plastics adhesive business in New Brunswick, New Jersey. In 1951, he and his wife bought a small farm where later they built a home and raised two children. In 1972, Winters went into business for himself, starting his own company and selling animal feed products to farmers throughout Pennsylvania. He retired in 1997. During the 1990s, Winters was featured in a number of books and television series about his experiences and those of the men in Easy Company. Despite the many accolades he had received, Winters remained humble about his service, most notably due to the popular miniseries Band of Brothers. During the interview segment of the miniseries Band of Brothers, Winters quoted a passage from a letter he received from Sergeant Myron "Mike" Ranney, "I cherish the memories of a question my grandson asked me the other day when he said, 'Grandpa, were you a hero in the war?' Grandpa said 'No...but I served in a company of heroes'." Winters died on January 2nd, 2011, at an assisted living facility in Campbelltown, Pennsylvania, 19 days before his 93rd birthday. He had suffered from Parkinson's disease for several years. Winters was buried in a private funeral service, which was held on January 8th, 2011. His wife Ethel died in 2012, at age 89.

[respectthepetty]

What does this mean for Phee and Jin? Did Phee set out on a revenge plot but developed real feelings for Jin?

Anon, I've been obsessed with this show since the very first episode, and I have never been on the "Phi and Jin are end game" ship because I think that

Jin had to be the worst of them.

Recap:

I wrote that Phi was sus af in the very first episode, and one reason was because he didn't hear the noise that Jin heard.

This happens again when Jin and Phi are running from the masked killer, and Jin is the only one to see a bloody Mr. Keng.

Some people are defending Fluke's actions because he didn't actively do anything to harm Non, but he also knew about the broken camera and said nothing, so I think whatever Jin did was even worse. He couldn't just have known about the bad stuff happening to Non. He must have also intentionally turned a blind eye and LEFT Non, which is exactly what Phi subtly calls him out on in the first episode, and probably why Jin is leaving Thailand for good.

Because I also mentioned that these boys have known each other longer than we were told in the first episode. The boys said Tan and Phi came AFTER Non disappeared, but I think Jin knew Phi way back in the tutoring days, but hadn't realized Phi knew Non since Jin said Mr. Keng's name like Phi knew who that was (because Phi probably went to tutoring too and that's how he "met" Jin).

I think White is gonna be the final gay, and Tan is the second killer because one of them has to be Non's brother, no? But I think it's Tan because homie always got twenty million questions and White wasn't even supposed to be on this trip.

Either way, Jin has never been on my "gonna live to the end" even though Jin is the main character,

And he already wrote his end. All the boys are dying the way they forced Non to change the script, which is why Phi is following Non's script this time around. He is making sure these boys get what they asked for. Hell, even the driver was the first to die in the original film, and was the first to die in the present, and Fluke watched Non's fall into hell at the hands of Tee and Top, and now he is being tasked with watching his friends as they die.

Once again, I think Jin was the worst because he acted as Non's protector and he started having feelings for Non,

Yet Jin might have betrayed Non somehow since Phi dropped this line in the coffin.

And Phi seems to have strung Jin along for a bit, which makes me believe that Phi is giving Jin a taste of his own medicine.

Tan asked Phi if Phi and Jin were "better" and Phi said that Jin won't even look at his face, and I feel that is pivotal to this plot. Phi wants Jin to trust him . . . the same way Non trusted Jin?

In the original film, Jin and Non were running away from the masked killer, and Jin left Non behind. It was just a film, but maybe, perhaps, possibly, Jin really left Non behind somewhere.

Phi has been playing the long con with these boys, so this shit is hella personal. If Phi was with Non and wanted more with Non, yet was doing the devil's tango at one point with Jin, I truly feel that Phi is committed to having Jin care about him.

Just so he can be the one to betray him.

*applying clown makeup* Jin fucked up big time somehow, and Phi has been playing him the longest because he wants Jin to feel every bit of pain he caused Non.

What did you do, Jin? What. Did. You. Do?

[bunnywand]

hopefully it’s not long now til gorillaz 20th anniversary reissue of their first album comes out, and i thought it’d be fun 2 come up w/ my ~dream tracklist~ for the bonus tracks 🤯 here’s what i came up w/ so far.. 🥰

latin simone (english version) - “tomorrow comes today” 2000 single (already on some editions of “g-sides” like the u.s. one, but not on the u.k. edition)

19-2000 (the wiseguys house of wisdom remix) - “19-2000″ single (also already on some editions of “g-sides,” but not on the u.k. edition)

the sounder (full version) - “rock the house” single (there’s an editted version of this on “g-sides” but the full version was only ever released on the european version of the “rock the house” single)

911 - non-album single (a single they did with d12 and terry hall, it’s not available anywhere anymore except for like, youtube and low quality mp3s 😔)

film music - “tomorrow comes today” 2002 ep (this rerelease came out after “g-sides” so this track and the next 2 are the only phase 1 b-sides that don’t appear on it)

film music (mode remix) - “tomorrow comes today” 2002 ep

tomorrow dub - “tomorrow comes today” 2002 ep

lil’ dub chefin’ (radio edit) - “lil’ dub chefin’” single (this and the next one are the only single and b-side from the spacemonkeyz vs gorillaz “laika come home” album - they’re still available now, but for the sake of completion it’d still be nice to have them on a compilation 😅)

spacemonkeyz theme - “lil’ dub chefin’” single

rock the house (instrumental) - unreleased alternate version (not too interesting on it’s own, but combined w/ the next one you could do s/t fun 😧)

starshine (phi life cypher version) - unreleased alternate version (the early version of gorillaz’s first album didn’t have del the funky homosapien on, and had more phi life cypher instead, so if this and the rock the house instrumental were released you could make an interesting lil playlist w/ them, as well as the phi life cypher version of “clint eastwood,” to like, recreate what the early version of the album would have sounded like 🤯)

don quixote’s christmas bonanza - “swallow my eggnog” compilation album (probably one of gorillaz’s most famous unreleased songs (it’s the “happy radio” one 😭) it’s also one of my favs, and it was only ever released on this obscure compilation album, so it’d be nice for it to finally see the light of day again 🥺)

dub dumb - from ps2 game “mtv music generator 2” (another song from a Rly obscure release, it’s p weird but i still like it a lot and it’d be nice for it to finally get a wider release too ☺️)

gorillaz on my mind - “blade ii” soundtrack (i’m not the biggest fan of this one, but it’s p well known even tho it’s never had a ~proper~ release, so i thought i’d include it!!)

gor beaten - unreleased song from gorillaz’s old website (this and the next one are just like, short instrumental demos that you used to be able to find on the phase 1 gorillaz website!! there’s not too much to them, but they’re pretty well known too, so i felt like i should include them as well 😌)

hand clapper - unreleased song from gorillaz’s old website

this isn’t anywhere Near all the ~unreleased~ tracks from phase 1, there’s still Tonnes of like, obscure remixes, and song snippets from the phase 1 website, but i feel like this covers all of the most important, and also the best, ones!! 🥰

my absolute Dream would be if they did a huge boxset w/ all these, all the tracks from the self-titled album + g-sides, and the laika come home album as well, as like, a “complete phase 1″ set.. but idk how likely that is at all.. 😅😭

[innittowinit]

Run Rabbit Run (2/3)

Summary:

When Assassin Technoblade receives an offer he can't refuse, to kill the king, he starts to live a double life as a knight inside the castle walls.

Unexpected to him, he meets a pair of troublesome brothers, a skilled gardener and a father figure in the process, Can he go through with it this time?

AO3

Living in the castle was… different, if he were to put it lightly.

On normal days, Techno would wake up towards 11am, check to see if any potential clients had sent him a letter, and then carry out any assassinations that he still needed to do. Needless to say, jobs never normally needed him to infiltrate the royal workers, most of the time it was just a quick shot of a bow or a swift swing of a sword.

Working quickly and efficiently was what he was known for, in the underbelly of crime.

That being said, a lifetime of working as a criminal had never prepared him for the strict regime that came with being a knight. He had been led to a large dorm room filled with the other knights by Wilbur and Tommy on his first day here, that had been the first shock, he wasn’t used to not having any private space. The next shock had been waking up at 5am, he had to pull himself out of bed and put on his new iron armour, trying the whole while to remind himself that this was in fact worth it for the money he’d be receiving by the end of it.

He had been given a surprising amount of freedom, considering he was the new guy, he had half been expecting someone to follow him around and make sure that he wasn’t doing anything he shouldn’t be. Instead, he’d been given the loose order to just make rounds around the castle grounds and make sure everything was running smoothly. A small percentage of the guards had also been sent down to make their rounds in the main kingdom but he supposed it must be a fairly small area if they didn’t even need all their men down there.

Recently the sheer abundance of gold surrounding him was really affecting his concentration and self-control, naturally, his instincts were screaming at him to drop everything and grab something, anything, to keep for himself. Quite a few times, he had been tempted to ignore the mission and just give in to what he wanted but he knew that would be a sure fire way to ruin any trust he’d be able to build between the fellow workers and the king.

His so-called self control was really put to the test when he was called to stand guard when the King made Wilbur and Tommy try out some new golden additions to the uniform.

Of course though, the Knight uniform was Iron as always, all he needed to do was stand with the king as he judged the boys, trying out the new clothes. It was a little ironic that he had made the mistake of hiring the assassin to protect him from assassins.

“Techno, I don’t think I’ve really spoken to you as much as I should have” The King had sighed as the two waited for Wilbur and Tommy to finish getting changed. “You’re a real character, you know? No matter how hard I try I can’t read you”

“Sometimes, not reading people is for the better, Sir”

The heaviness of the statement rolled off Techno’s tongue easily, not realising how incriminating it really was. Luckily though, the King just laughed and nodded, one hand on his shoulder.

Techno didn’t want to think about how tempted he was to pull the gold rings right off his fingers.

“Done!”

Tommy grinned as he half ran, half jogged out of the changing room, spreading his arms wide, dramatically, and giving a big spin.

The changes to the uniform were minuscule, clearly only done to show wealth to any visitors over the fact that even the king’s chefs and butlers were clad in expensive materials.

“What D'ya think Techie?” With almost a rhythm to the words, Tommy walked towards Techno and stretched his arms out, bringing attention to the golden detailing at the bottom of his sleeves, as well as the thick pads that capped off his shoulders. The uniform really did look ridiculous.

“You’re a Piglin! I bet you love this stuff!”

“Tommy..” The king spoke in a warning tone, Techno didn’t quite understand why he was sticking up for him when stuff like this was so common. By now, he was used to being teased for being a Piglin, that’s just how life was for Mobs.

“What Phil?”

Pulling his hands back to his sides, Tommy rolled his eyes. Wilbur had also joined them, the golden detailing working much better against the black Butler uniform rather than the White Chef’s one.

“Phil he literally is a Piglin! I’m not even being mean!”

Techno couldn’t help but groan. Of course he thought he was in trouble for calling him a Piglin, of course people assumed that was a bad word. It was times like this when he was glad these are the kind of people he hurts with his work… but then again the person defending him was the person he was destined to kill.

Techno decided not to think about it.

What he did think about instead was how close he was going to have to get to the king to not be a suspect. Seriously, he had workers that were so casual with him that they would argue with him and call him by his first name, how long would he have to stay here?

“Toms.”

God the King had nicknames for them too? He was in for a lot of work.

“Look, it’s just not nice to assume he likes things and bring up what species he is as a justification.”

Tommy was clearly getting frustrated, judging by how Wilbur had said that they had been taken in as kids, he assumed the boy wasn’t really used to being told off for things.

“No! Just look! He’s fine with it! It was a joke man!”

And with that, Techno’s hoof was being grabbed and pulled up to touch the shoulder pad. What happened next was a blur, he remembered shoving Tommy away but he couldn't remember if he fell or just staggered back a bit. He noted that Wilbur had yelled something at him but he was more focused on getting the safe feeling that came with feeling the gold back. So, before he could think any better he had swiped the King’s crown straight off of his head and was cradling it close to his chest, like an animal protecting its food.  

“Techno?”

The king’s voice had been gentle and non-judgmental as he carefully placed a hand on his shoulder.

All he got as a response was a low grunt, his bared tusks far too prominent for him to even attempt talking right now.

“Techno, I want you to know that first of all you aren't in trouble, okay?”

With a little nod, Techno attempted to hand the crown back over, trying to salvage what he could of their opinions on him but just as he held it out towards the King his instincts took control again, complete fear and terror coursing through his veins as he imagined having to go back to having no gold to give him that safe feeling he was after.

“That’s alright, you can hold onto it for now, let’s just calm you down a bit bud”

Mind too foggy with anger and instincts, he didn’t even register it when Phi- the King moved him to sit on a bench with one arm around him lovingly. If he didn’t know any better he’d say this man was almost fatherly but he knew there must be a dark side to him if he had been offered so much to kill him.

“I’m very sorry about what happened, I don’t think Tommy really understood what he was doing, We’ll make sure that it won't happen ever again.”

Phil’s voice was kind, it understood that Techno wouldn’t want people teasing him about that kind of thing, it cared that Techno had been upset and wanted to fix that. The same kind voice softly instructed Techno on how to breathe in and out to slow down his pacing heartbeat, eventually helping him lower his tusks and loosen his grip on the crown.

“Ah jeez” Techno sighed, feigning a chuckle “This is humiliating, I’m sorry”

Despite the fact that he was calmer now and was able to think clearly and talk again, it was still very clear that he didn’t want to give up the crown as he twirled it in his hands, carefully tracing each gem as he did so.

Looking up, he could finally read the faces of the people that surrounded him, Phil looked like he was worried, Wilbur looked disappointed and Tommy looked as if he was about to crack under the guilt. This much attention made him feel almost sick, if he didn’t know better he would have leaned into Phil’s gentle touch by now, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t at least a little touch starved.

“Tommy.” Wilbur cleared his throat as he nudged his brother forwards, the younger of the two looking down at his boots in shame.

“Uh.. I didn’t think you were going to react like that, I’m really sorry. I know it doesn’t really mean much now but if I'm being honest I did think Piglins just..liked gold. I didn’t think you were going to...lose control or anything. I’m sorry, I do want to be friends with you but I’m scared I’ve biffed it” Techno couldn’t tell whether it was because Tommy was a human teenage boy or because he was just that remorseful but he could hear a slight waver in his voice as he spoke, as if he was holding back tears.

That was strange, nobody had cried over wanting his forgiveness before, or more like, nobody who he wasn’t about to kill had cried over wanting his forgiveness. It was nice to know he was cared for, even if it was misplaced.

“It’s.. fine. Just don’t do it again”

With that, Tommy nodded vigorously and walked swiftly back over to Wilbur, whispering something to him, leaving Techno with Phil- fuck, no, leaving Techno with the King and the crown.

“I meant it when I said you could hang on to it, just keep it safe and you can do whatever you like with it. Hold it, wear it, anything.”

Eyes wide, Techno looked over to Phil, looking for any trace of a joke. Normally, he’d be ridiculed for any aspects of his heritage showing, let alone having a full few minutes where he couldn’t control his actions, plus he really wasn’t used to being given gifts, normally he’d have to make due with the small chunks of gold he could make from his work but the idea of an entire crown was new to him, he was conflicted, naturally, he wasn’t sure if he needed to be on guard or if he was truly cared for.

“I’m serious. This was our fault, it really is embarrassing for us that we didn’t predict this and give you something you could hold on to. You poor thing, you were probably in a lot of pain trying to protect your image, right?”

Techno just sighed, rubbing his eyes. Because he was tired, he told himself, he wasn’t wiping away anything and he certainly didn’t care that the only person to ever treat him so nicely was the person he had to kill.

“Next time something is bothering you, don’t be afraid to speak up. We’re a family here and now that you’re a knight here you’re a part of that family”

Family.

Phil thought of them as a family.

Techno sighed and nodded, giving in and finally placing his head on Phil’s shoulder.

He supposed he’d just have to commit familicide.

[ktheist]

maybe, maybe

a series of coincidental meet-ups lead to an unlikely relationship between two people.

characters: smiley jeon jungkook word count. 4.8k genre: college au / slice of life au

It couldn’t have gotten any cornier than this.

A girl bawling her eyes out on the bench in the dark, letting out sobs that may or may not be the cause of the park being named ‘weeping willow’. There isn’t a willow tree and though Harry Potter is an evergreen series that lives on in every millennial, that is not the reason for the park to be named that. It’s a place where people - girls, boys and non-binaries alike - go to bawl their eyes out because assignments and exams are taking up college students’ time so much so most, if not all, doesn’t have the time to socialize.

Tonight, you are one of those weeping college students.

You don’t need to worry about it being weird. It’s an established fact that if anyone heard someone crying while passing the park, they would go on with their life. Not everyone likes to be comforted, especially not by a stranger and though yes it’s a good gesture but it really is unnecessary. Most people who came here just want to bawl their eyes out and trudge back to the library and continue their work.

So yes, you’re 99% sure no one was going to look at you as though you’re insane even though the bench you’re sitting on is right by the walkway. Nobody’s passed here for the last five minutes, you think you might be able to get another five in and be done with it.

But as it turns out, for a reason only known to the cosmos, someone asked, “Um, excuse me?”

At first, you think you’re imagining it but after thirty-seconds, you look up with puffy red eyes and possibly some snot running down your nose. You suck it back in.

“Y-yes?”

He’s quite good-looking but that may be because the closest lamp post is three feet away and it’s situated right behind him, hence the rather attractive shadow cast over his face. At the present though, you’re fuddled by him smiling at getting your attention as though help has come.

“Hi, I’m here to send some stuff to my sister but I’m a little lost, could you maybe point me in the right direction to Alpha Pie?”

“Phi. Alpha Phi.” You stare him dead in the eye, uninterested, as though you’ve been cut off just before a good orgasm because the guy didn’t know a girl’s anatomy.

He echoes the words correctly this time with a smile you didn’t think could get brighter but it did. Standing up and wiping the tears (and ugh, you really did have snot on your face) off, you gesture for him to follow you.

The campus is lit by the same kind of dim lamp post that accompanied you awhile back while you bawled away. Some students passed you by and you can somewhat understand the hollow look in their eyes and silently acknowledge the mutual feeling of being tired and wanting to go back and lay on your comfortable bed.

“So, you live on campus?” He breaks the silence with - now that you’re actually looking at him - a dimpled smile.

“Sometimes,” you answer shortly, not giving any indication to elaborate further - whoever his sister is, you can only hope she’s not crying her eyes out in her room because of assignment season.

Other times you spend your nights at McDonald's or some bar that opens till 6.

Silence sets in again and though it may not be wholly comfortable but it’s preferred - by you at least. But it’s short lived, it seems as you hear another question come from him.

“Any reason why you were crying just now?” The corners of his lips are curled cutely and he’s looking at you as though he’s asking to make small talk which he possibly is and don’t really care about the reason.

You don’t really mind either as you shrug, eyes still puffy but you’re halfway to looking like you didn’t just cry at the Weeping Willow.

“The usual. Assignments, datelines. We’re here.”

He seems to be satisfied with the answer and the both of you seem to have arrived in front of the sorority-looking building with the alphabets ‘Alpha Phi’ written proudly on top of the entrance.

“Thanks, I couldn’t have found it myself now I’m five minutes early from the time we bet I would show up.”

You don’t particularly care.

“No problem.”

And with that, you wave a hand as in to dismiss the fact that he’d taken up the 5 minutes you could have gotten to continue crying.

-

You almost forgot you helped a stranger find his way when you met the aforementioned stranger again as you walk out of the wooden doors of Alpha Phi. He’s donned in a crisp white button down with the cuffs of the sleeves rolled up to just below his elbow and his hands in his pockets.

“Hi, we meet again.”

It takes you half a minute to register who he is and you’re surprised he remembers your face what with the baggy clothes and unkempt hair the other day. Not to say that you’re looking any better today but your eyes are lined and winged and your lips are glossed - that’s as far as you’re willing to go to look presentable during the daylight.

“Yeah and I’m assuming you manage to find your way without bothering a crying soul this time - I hope.”

He laughs, the dimples more prominent in the light and you confirm your suspicions that he wasn’t good-looking because there was not much lighting that night - he really is, simply, good-looking.

“You live here.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement - an affirmation to his question from last time.

“Sometimes.” The corners of your own lips upturn as you repeat your previous answer.

“About the other day -”

You wave a dismissive hand, this time really meaning it when you say, “Don’t mention it.”

“No, I was about to ask you to coffee but you left so fast and I was worried I’d get lost again if I went after you and you happen to turn my advances down. Where else would I get a guide?”

That manages to make you smile wider. Alright so he’s chill.

“What makes you think I won’t turn you down right now?”

He shrugs and only then do you realize how his sleeves wrap around his arms nicely.

“Maybe in the light I look less like a creep?”

“Maybe.” You echo though he looked nothing like a creep then and he looks less than a creep now, “but I’m good.”

The tiniest stretch of his smile tells you he’s surprised but he keeps it on and nods.

“I understand. Have a good day.”

“You too.”

That day, you go to class with the same amount of concentration and determination to pass and graduate. You’re in your third year and third years either make you or break you - as what the people a year above you have said.

-

“I hardly think this is a coincidence anymore.” At this point you can recognize the playfulness in the tone and you whirl around to see the same man whose offer for coffee you turned down.

“I’m meeting a friend,” it all comes together quite easily and you wiggle your hand in front of him with the same level of playfulness in his tone, “Sooyoung is your sister.”

The second year isn’t as close to you as she is to your roommate, Seulgi, but on one fine night when you just got back and she was hanging around in your room, she had implored you to go to this coffee shop which chocolate chip cookies - as she claims - are to-die-for. It’s not as odd anymore why Seulgi had plans and couldn’t accompany her and she sent you the address instead of going with you since you’re both going the same direction from the same sorority.

He whisks past you and places an order before turning to you, inclining for you to place your own order. You do and it turns out the place doesn’t sell cookies and it’s actually famous for its muffins.

“I hope everything’s well.” Though his tone is light as the night you thought he was making small talks when he asked why you were crying alone, you realize now that it’s genuine concern.

He’s just that type of nice guy that gets his sister into getting her best friend’s roommate into go to a coffee shop just because he wants to make sure you’re okay.

“Really, when you saw me, I just had a lot and needed to let it out. It’s not that deep but I appreciate you checking up on me.”

His eyes twinkle a bit as he takes his first sip of Americano, “it’s not easy - it’s gonna take a lot of tears but you’ll get through it someday.”

Raising an eyebrow, you scrutinize him through your lashes with a twitch of your own, “I might be wrong but did you really not know your way or did you just not want me to be crying alone but also didn’t want to look sympathetic so you asked for directions.”

“I really was loss.”

Not that you care so much so you lean back against the chair and take your first bite out of chocolate chip muffin.

-

Jeon Jungkook. He told you his name and you subtly noted that Sooyoung’s family name rhymes with mark but they could be half-siblings or step-siblings. If the two occasions (including this one) of meeting him in button downs and black or navy blue pants didn’t tell you, then he’s telling you now that he’s working for a company. From the looks of it, he seems like he’s able to come and leave anytime he wants but you can’t.

It’s not disappointment that crosses his face but it’s the kind of smile that looks like he knows you’re going to up and leave, if not the moment you see him, then half an hour into enjoying your coffees.

“Student council, director of the magazine club. I understand.”

“What else did Sooyoung tell you about me?” You raise an eyebrow, this time genuinely curious about what a stranger - maybe he qualifies as an acquaintance now - knows about you that you haven’t told him.

“She didn’t tell me, I saw your picture on the board when I was heading to Prof. Kim’s office.”

Judging from where Prof. Kim’s office is and his possible connection to the aforementioned professor, you squint your eyes, curiosity piquing by the second.

“You went to Yonsei?”

The wink he gives is uncalled for and paired with that cute smile, is a deadly combination. You almost want to sit in this coffee shop longer with him just to know more - enough to satisfy the curious cat within you before you erase him from your memories because you really can’t afford to get distracted right now.

“I’ll tell you if you agree to go to dinner with me.”

Though he’s a tad more cute and a little bit interesting than the men you’ve been on coffee dates with - back in your freshman days, now you barely have time to sleep - the fascination ends here. If you were going to fall for dimples and smiles, you would have been with Professor Kim’s son, Namjoon by now.

“Some other time then.”

“Meaning never.”

You almost look like you’re caught off guard but you mimic his curled lips and wonder if all the smiles that got your heart melting each time was a facade but coming from a man who looked at you like you were a person instead of a wreck back at the park, you somehow believe that his smiles are sincere, though sometimes they look sad.

“Here’s my number.” You hand over the poorly scribbled handwriting of a napkin to him and for once, wrote the digits correctly without intentional amendments.

He takes it between his index and middle fingers, waving it in the air as though he’s saying he accepts the treaty.

On the way to the group meeting - the essential reason you couldn’t stay long - you curse yourself out for leaving with a ‘see you later’ instead of a - as he mentioned - ‘maybe never.’

-

“Someone’s calling.” Namjoon nudges your elbow and true enough, the screen lights up and vibrates with a sequence of unfamiliar numbers which may not be of grave importance at the moment unless if Namjoon brought it to your attention because it’s distracting him from studying.

You have a tendency to not pick up unknown calls which to this day have proven to be equally advantageous and disadvantageous but you never learn.

“I almost thought you gave me the wrong number.”

There’s this urge to smile at the playfulness of the voice.

“Why would I?”

He lets out a short laugh as though not believing it completely but whether he places his trust on you or not is not particularly your concern. His omission to answer clearly says he and you share the same understanding of why people give fake numbers but it’s pointless to talk about that.

“Where are you now?”

“Studying.”

As though he expected the generic answer or perhaps maybe it’s just a conversation starter to get to his next point, you will never know.

“Come out. I’m at the bench from that night.”

Though odd and rather unlikely for him to be there right at this moment, you tread down the walkway, more curious than excited if he’s telling the truth of his whereabouts.

You don’t know why you thought he was lying at the first place but it would be a lie if you say you’re not surprised to see that familiar flock of dark brown hair on the same bench you spent bawling your eyes out two weeks ago. He waves at you when he sees you and pulls out a paper bag that’s been on his side to sit between the two of you.

“What is this?” You ask even though you have a sneaky suspicion already.

“Stusket. Study basket. Except it’s in a bag.”

The pride in his eyes when he mentions the first word is overly adorable so you opt to pay more attention to the items inside the bag instead of that smile. The bag comes in two hot Americano, a muffin, a bundle of colored pens, energy bars and a neck pillow which surprisingly fits all that.

“I was buying one for Sooyoung but I figured I should get two. Another one for you.”

You’re a little disappointed that you’re just an add on but it’s only a given that his someone as familiar as family comes first. You don’t know when you even started caring.

“I appreciate this but are you setting me up to fail because there’s no way I can stay awake with this.” You laugh as you put on the neck pillow and note how it’s the softest suede you’ve ever touched and also the fluffiest.

He shrugs, the sleeves fitting as nicely as usual around his arms and you realize his pink lips turn into a skin-colored hue under the lamp post.

“But really, thank you.” You say and you really mean it.

He waves a hand in the air in a familiar fashion which is confirmed to be yours as he echoes the words you once said to him, “don’t mention it.”

-

“What’s that?” Namjoon eyes the bag with an arched brow, wondering how you went out with only a ringing phone in your hand and came back with a bag.

It doesn’t take much for him to know what’s in the bag and who it’s for.

“Someone gave me a stusket. Study basket. Except it’s in a bag.” You echo Jungkook’s exact words and recall the twinkle in his eyes.

“I never knew you got a boyfriend.” Namjoon emphasizes on the last word but there’s something in his tone that sounds like an insult - just because you were busy doesn’t mean you couldn’t find a potential love interest even though that is completely and 100% true. And Jungkook isn’t a boyfriend -

“He’s Sooyoung’s brother.” That somehow doesn’t sit right, “A friend.” 

Now, that doesn’t help at all and if there’s anything Kim Namjoon is good at, it’s reaffirming your words which more often than not manage to make it sound more ridiculous as you try to elaborate.

“You’re friends with your roommate’s best friend’s brother?”

This time, you really can’t say anything else because you are nowhere close to your roommate’s best friend let alone join any functions with her that would require for her brother to be there with her. But the facts are there and what are you if not friends?

“Yes.”

-

“____, my brother texted me to tell you he wants to see you.” Sooyoung bursts into your room at midnight in her yellow duckling pajamas and a sheet mask, you almost didn’t recognize her from the frequency of people walking around in sheet masks and printed pajamas if not for the mention of a certain brother.

“Why doesn’t he text me?” You check your phone, eyebrows almost knitted together at the absence of any text from him.

“There’s this thing called knocking.” Seulgi throws her alpaca plushie and Sooyoung surprisingly manages to catch it.

“I don’t know girl, but get your ass down there before one of the sis notices I’m up here in your room and not talking to my brother!” Are Sooyoung’s last words before she throws herself at Seulgi despite the latter’s desperate protest.

You slip a cardigan on before closing the door on the two girls who are starting a pillow fight on Seulgi’s bed with your pillow as Sooyoung’s weapon.

That dimpled almost has you skipping like a little girl.

You shoot him the same question you did with his sister as you gesture for him to follow you and away from the sorority. Before you get far, the hood covering part of your head pools at the back of your neck and a grinning Jungkook is standing just a few inches behind you, no doubt the culprit.

“Are you ashamed to be seen with me?”

“I just prefer to have my hood on.” 

He sees through your lies and chuckles - whether he knows the exact reason for you reluctance to be seen with the same man more than once on campus besides your usual set of friends, you’re not sure. 

Though you love the sisterhood you share between the girls of the sorority, you can’t deny that there are ears ready to eavesdrop and it’s never good when someone outside of your circle knows about anything especially if it concerns you and a boy. All this time, it’s established that you feel absolutely nothing for the male specimens that often become the talk of the house. If they knew - God help the overboard ‘support’ your sisters are more than willing to give you.

“How was your day?”

“Good.”

There’s a familiar silence that’s more comfortable than whatever it was the first time you walked him to the house. 

“I was scared to text you. You might not come.”

He says out of the blue and so out of character, you have to pause and look at him to make sure he even said anything in the first place. His gaze is already on you and you can’t help but take a moment to digest that someone as composed as Jungkook would have fears and because of you for that matter.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

This time, there’s no tricks or games. The answer might have been obvious but it isn’t for you and the corners of Jungkook’s lips curls as he nods to himself as though he’s coming to terms with himself and realizing there was nothing to be afraid of.

“I get nervous texting the girl I like.”

-

Jungkook has texted you three days later and asked you if you were free Thursday night and you have no choice but to turn him down. Not that you want to but most of your days are planned out and are subject to your timetable. Though, this type of ‘no’ hasn’t let you sit well through out the day.

If you would be a little be more honest, you daresay you want to see him.

“Why didn’t you say yes?!” Seulgi cries and you have to toss a pillow on her face to remind her to lower her voice in case anyone hears.

You thank the universe that Sooyoung likes to keep to herself which is why you get along with her even though you don’t share her passion for cute bras, cats and male phallus - a quirky combination but you’re not about to kink shame. Seulgi on the other hand knows what to say and what to keep from people’s business - the two of them together makes an unlikely friendship which if you look closer, seems just right.

“You know I’m too busy for boys.”

Seulgi throws you a look which warrants an eye roll. You already know what she’s about to say.

“He’s not a boy, he’s a man.”

You’re not going to admit the significant difference between the two categories because 1) you’re not going to give her any room for more innuendos and 2) you’re not ready to face Jungkook after nodding and responding ‘cool’ to his confession.

Then your phone vibrates.

For a solid 5 second, you and Seulgi are at a stare off before she leaps across the five feet gap between your bed and hers - and in an attempt to shield yourself from a human cannon ball, you try to roll off the bed but alas, the human crashes right into you.

You take a moment to register whether any bones have been dislocated before reaching for your phone which is too late by the way. The damage has been done and as you know it, the blue text on your part has already agreed for another day which is Saturday.

For a moment, you debated correcting your statement by telling him the truth but when his smile flashes at the back of your head, and you decide against cancelling the plan.

-

“You’re choosing a guy over finishing up a paper you need to submit two days from now.” Namjoon states in-a-matter-of-factly.

“Chill, I got like two days more.”

You almost squirm under his scrutiny because he’s the one person who’s been with you through your lowest, been your pillar of strength and sanity when you need a word of advice. The one week he wasn’t here, you almost lost your mind which was the reason you ended up breaking down at the park.

So if there’s anyone who knows you would be freaking out because the date line is nearing, it’s Kim Namjoon, your childhood friend slash study buddy who doesn’t even need to study but waved a dismissive hand at you when you told him he didn’t need to accompany you at the library till it closes almost every night.

“5 years from now, are you going to regret not going on a dinner with some guy or handing in a possibly imperfect paper which you could have perfected and bump your A to an A+ if you didn’t go to the dinner with the guy?”

The paper isn’t written yet but you’re halfway into your research and you can finish up with the important points later after dinner assuming it ends before 10 and your journey would only take about an hour or so to get back. Apparently, it’s transparent that you don’t want the dinner to end early which before you know it, you’ve already gotten the answer to Namjoon’s question.

He shakes his head and packs up his things. You thought he was disappointed at you enough to ignore your presence altogether but he looks at you again and you find yourself holding your breath.

But he doesn’t say anything and you watch as he leaves the library. In that moment, everything comes crashing in - your life plans, your college goals. None of them includes Jungkook but if his inclusion means the distraction of your goals, then, Jeon Jungkook is just an insignificant part of your life.

-

You stop in front of the diner so sure that you value your friendship with Namjoon more than a man you known within just two months. With that, you send Jungkook a text that you’re outside. He struts out in a matching navy blue tuxedo with a black button down underneath, that cute smile on full display. His eyebrows arch when he sees you in an over-sized sweater, shorts and this time, kept hair. You pride would be scarred if you showed up any less presentable than this but you’re here for one reason and that’s to properly tell him you’re not going to entertain him anymore.

“You’re here.” He comes to a stop in front of you but just when he was about to gesture for you to go inside, you speak first.

“Here is fine.”

He accepts your decision with a nod, hands pocketed as though ready for what you’re about to say.

“Did something happen along the way?”

“No, nothing happened.”

The look of relief on his face makes it harder to stand your ground. Showing up severely under dressed to a five star restaurant is already disrespectful as it is but he’s more worried that something might have happened to you that warrants you unable to don a suitable dress for a dinner.

“You must be hungry, let’s sit and talk. At least have some water.” He adds when you’re about to protest.

With the last part, you relent and the dimple smile carves its way to his lips as though your compliance is enough for him.

He places two identical orders and dismisses the other as his extra plate but it would be embarrassing to have two sets of servings for himself. When the food does come, he doesn’t even touch it. In fact, his eyes never left you as though your presence is more appealing than a medium rare steak prepared by a Michelin chef.

“How was your day?”

“Good.” You shrug.

“I’m glad you’re here.”

If the dimple wasn’t enough, you start to wonder if his eyes have always crinkled when he smiles.

“I can’t stay.”

“You never seem to be able to.”

For a split second, his lips are set in a thin line but then he smiles but it’s not the same smile you’ve been receiving until now. It’s the kind of smile that makes you want to take back your hostility and swallow your pride but you wouldn’t be you if you did that so instead you swallowed the water the waiter set aside for you.

“I have assignments to finish and exams to prepare for. I have to go.”

He stands up a second later than you, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

“I’ll send you back, let me settle the bill first.”

The cosmos must have hated you from the moment since you were born and it’s all unraveling right now as you yearningly take a last look at the untouched steak and how much of a waste it was because the extra platter was just a facade because Jeon Jungkook was too nice to let you watch him eat or let you stand outside in the cold while you two talked.

“There’s really no need to send me back, I can walk. The campus is really close.”

He thwarts your last ditch attempt to leave with, “I have something to pass to Sooyoung too. My car’s in the workshop so I’ll walk with you.”

“You just said you were going to send me back which implies you have a car. So it just suddenly transferred itself to a workshop?” You eye him suspiciously and without any effort to hide it, he chuckles, head dropping.

“Yes, if you believe in magic.”

You don’t expect him to entertain questions to an obvious answer the way he always didn’t. It only adds to the feebleness of the whole situation. So you opt to walk in silence and struggle to either remain a step in front or behind from him. If he notices your diligence, he doesn’t mention it until you’re at the Weeping Willow and his fingers suddenly wrap around your wrist.

He takes a step closer and another until you’re only a hair’s breadth away. You’re staring at his eyes and he’s looking at your lips. Just before he kisses you, he pauses and meets your gaze but this time he catches your lingering stare on his lips.

“If you say no now, I’ll leave and I won’t ever show up in your life but if there’s a smidgen of chance that you’re acting like this because you’re not good with handling emotions -”

So you kiss him. 

You kiss him with all and every emotion that you have, the butterflies, the zoo, the anxiety, the fear and the excitement.

-

note: woooo so first fic after years of not writing, i’m a little rusty and i just finished this in one sitting. i have the most fun writing this, but my apologies for the errors and typos - i shamefully admit to not rereading this because i just want to quickly finish this and get it out there hahahah

credit goes to: before we get married drama (go watch, it tests your principles, and the characters all have their shortcomings which balances out the story line - but please for those who have watch the whole series don’t give spoilers i’m only on my 5th ep!)

and blackpink reference yooo :D

[norsereadalong]

Eyrbyggja Saga Prompts Week 11

Welcome to Week 11 of Eyrbyggja Saga! This week (Dec. 7th 2020) we’re reading chapters 52-58, as laid out in Hermann Pálsson’s translation. This week’s section starts off as follows:

 The farm at Frodriver had a large living room with a bed-closet behind it, as was usual in those days….Three of Ospak’s men were killed in the fight and one of Thorir’s, while a good many on either side were wounded.

Að Fróðá var eldaskáli mikill og lokrekkja innar af eldaskálanum sem þá var siður….Á þeim fundi féllu þrír menn af Óspaki en einn af Þóri en margir urðu sárir af hvorumtveggjum.

 Below are some prompts to invoke discussion. You don’t have to answer them (unless you want to), and you’re welcome to ask questions of your own for the group to discuss! We ask that you participate at least once a week in one form or another, be it through a response paragraph, fanart, etc., but you’re free to choose whatever topic you’d like. Remember to DM a link to your responses to @edderkopper so we can find them!

Alright, hope y’all are ready to talk a lot about ghosts, seals, and whales! Oh My!

1.     Right, so. Weird phenomenon galore! Urðarmáni, also known as a moon of destiny (weird moon), is an astrological omen that foreshadows death. Specifically, this is in relation to the people at Frodriver that take ill. What common theme can you find with regards to all these past omens? Are they all supernatural? Morally ambiguous? Meant to punish, correct, or just forewarn?

2.     Tis’ a cold season these Icelanders are enduring—what about the setting and timing is important for this particular string of haunting?

3.     How does the author describe haunting and how do others get dragged into being ghostly specters? So far, we’ve seen draugr-like behavior born out of miserly mean behavior, and revenge. Is this the same protocol as before or is it weirdly parasitic? Where exactly might these ghosts have come from?

4.     In your opinion which haunting of a “creature” has been the spookiest—and does that supernatural creature represent anything or speak to the Old Norse culture in some significant way? (It’s okay, you can admit that the seal scared you a little, happens to the best of us).  All answers and considerations welcome, and remember, this saga was written during a time of internal strife! 

5.     Thorodd and his men wash up on shore, having drowned the night before and Thorir Wood-Leg and his buried friends join them from the grave—how does the community eradicate the ghost problem, and what does this say about the structure and values of Medieval Iceland at the time? In what did people readily put their faith in when faced with unwanted ghoulish guests?

6.      Why might driftage rights (washed up lumber, beached wales, etc.) be so crucial to Icelanders’ way of life and something that one is willing to die over? 

Further Free-Access Reading Below Pertaining to these chapters, and remember--you can DM @cousinnick and I’ll try to get you personally-tailored articles related to topics you’re curious about!

Ármann Jakobsson. “Vampires and Watchm: Categorizing the Mediaeval Icelandic Undead.”  Journal of English and Germanic Phi 2011, Vol. 110.3., pp. 281-300.

Ármann Jakobsson. The Troll inside You: Paranormal Activity in the Medieval North. Earth, Milky Way: Punctum Books, 2017.

Ármann, Jakobsson. “The Taxonomy of the Non-Existent: Some Medieval Icelandic Concepts of the Paranormal.” Fabula, 2013, vol. 54, pp. 199-213.

Kanerva, Kirsi. The Role of the Dead in Medieval Iceland: A Case Study of Eyrbyggja Saga. 2011.

Kanerva, Kirsi. “Restless Dead or Peaceful Cadavers? Preparations for Death and Afterlife in Medieval Iceland.” Dying Prepared in Medieval and Early Modern Northern Europe. ed. Anu Lahtinen and Mia Korpiola, Leiden: Brill, 2018.

Laurin, Dan. The Everlasting Dead: Similarities Between The Holy Saint and the Horrifying Draugr. Scandia, 2020. N. 3.

Maraschi, Andrea. The Weird Story of an Icelandic Ghost Named Þórgunna. Medievalist.net   

Phelpstead, Carl. Ecocriticism and Eyrbyggja Saga. 2014. 

[lucahqs-blog]

❛ ✶  —  did you see LUCA MARTÍNEZ walking around campus earlier ? i hear a lot of people talking about the TWENTY-ONE year old JUNIOR . from what i know , they are studying HUMAN PHYSIOLOGY while minoring in ILLUSTRATION and are a part of PHI KAPPA DELTA . they come across as + DIPLOMATIC but also - NON-CONFRONTATIONAL , which makes since because on their instagram ( LMHQS ) it says they are a LIBRA . when i see them , i think of LONG 2AM ROOFTOP CHATS, 100% GREEK & DEAD POETS SOCIETY CHAOTIC ENERGY, MESSY ROOM COVERED IN ART & PROJECTS, DOG-EARED TEXTBOOKS, CIGARETTE SMOKE. the most interesting thing i’ve heard about them though , is the fact that [  REDACTED ] , but don’t tell anyone i told you that .

hello, loves !! this bean goes by rue ( she / her pronouns ), and i’ll be playing this Mess™, luca ( with fc by froy gutierrez ). below you can find his bio, enjoy ! + disclaimer: there are mentions of mental health and cancer, so please read at your own discretion.

biography

When someone hears the name Martínez, they automatically think of words like prestigious, wealthy, and perfect. And who wouldn’t? With the father being a State’s Attorney and mother owning her own real estate business, you had to think like that. In the public eye the Martínez family was flawless. Diana was the always supporting wife who thrived in raising money for fundraisers and showing off her cooking skills and David was being a husband who brought home piles of money and was devoted to his family. Everyone wanted what they had. Luca Martínez was born into a world where perfection was of the utmost importance. The Martínez family are one of those prestigious families that has always been full of wealthy and high-class snobs, and Luca’s parents were no exception. He grew up learning how to be charming and handsome, and aware of his superiority over those of inferior to him. Luca’s childhood years consisted of him sitting restless at various fancy parties and dinners, while his father kept him from all the treats so that he would grow up to be fit and strong. Luca’s father was always cold and emotionally isolated from him; only after a perfect son to show off to the world.

He has brother, who is three years younger than him, named Nathaniel. His relationship with his brother, however, is a bit estranged just like with their father. As much as he loves his brother and wishes they could see eye-to-eye, sometimes they tend to butt heads often. Whether that might mean your typical sibling arguments or full-on blown out fights, they just cannot seem to see get along.

As a young, restless little child, Luca sought escape from his shallow, chilly life in the form of a friend. His friend taught him that there was such thing as warmth and friendliness, told him lots of stories of Greek mythology, and he learned that his father had been lying about “tactless individuals” being horrible people. However, when his father found out about his associations with his friend, within a week, the boy mysteriously disappeared. Since then, Luca kept all his unapproved-of friends to himself. Unfortunately, as time went on, Luca grew up to become a lot colder and more isolated like his father—leaving the feeling of pure joy of meeting that friend he met long ago, had vanished. With his family situation being completely dysfunctional and rottenly horrible, he never experienced what being happy was all about.

Sometimes calling someone selfish is a gross exaggeration, but in Luca’s case its right on-point. Eventually in his early teens he became distracted, always preoccupied with his own affairs and matters of interest. Whether it was schoolwork, his multiple and usually explosive relationships, or his many existential crises, Luca was one for waving people away and turning the conversation back on himself. This was not necessary out of narcissism or some hidden agenda: Luca genuinely does not know who he is. Perpetually fidgeting and restless, it is not uncommon to see him rapidly flicking a cigarette lighter, or playing with his hair, or bouncing on the balls of his feet. In high school he was brilliant: it was that simple. He was the golden boy. Prone to spilling into intellectual spiels - and labelled a know-it-all - he internalized everything, memorizing tiny details, eyes skipping here and there. His intelligence is among his most useful traits and is by far the thing he values most about himself. Much of his ego is built around the confidence that he is effortlessly smarter than almost anybody he encounters. Knowledge is power, and he weaponizes his superior intellect, using his brains more than brawn to protect himself and intimidate the people he does not care for.

Although his parents were the bane of his experience 100% of the time, his mother was not all that insufferable when she had her moments away from his father and not trying to be this pristine ‘perfect’ woman beside her husband. In fact, throughout his childhood she often encouraged Luca’s belief in extraordinary things and hoped he had carried it throughout his life growing up. His mother had always made him promise to have courage and be kind to others, for—as she explained to him—kindness has power, and that she would see him through all the trials that life could offer, in life and death.

Cancer/mental illness TW—when he was thirteen, his mother had been diagnosed with cervical cancer. Upon hearing the news, Luca’s whole world clasped. Not only was he at a pivotal stage in his life where everything was changing and becoming more stressful ( becoming a teenager, starting high school, going through puberty ), the only important person who had actually showed him any kind of love in his life had be claimed by the deadly disease altogether. So many thoughts and feelings were going through his mind at the time, that he ran himself physically sick and had experienced his first panic attack. He has since been medically diagnosed with panic disorder. Thankfully, the cells on his mother’s cervix were diagnosed at precancerous stage and the doctors were able to treat it because it developed and spread. However, that didn’t and doesn’t stop Luca from being in a constantly state of panic every time his mother so much as feels pain or coughs due to irrelevant reasons. The entire year had changed him and his family for a while.

He is now attending Beaumont University currently in his Junior year studying Human Physiology and minoring in Illustration. The university is his parents’ alma mater and he joined his father’s former fraternity after he was convinced it would be a ‘father-son bonding experience’ to have shared the same Greek house. Not to mention, his family has pretty decent ties at Beaumont, making Luca pretty well known become his parents. Sure, his family is wealthy, well known in the socialite community, and has basically grown up with this sort of life from an exceedingly small age, but to say he actually cares about all that crap is an overstatement. He is nothing like some of the spoiled and entitled students at his school and rather vibe with himself than gossip about the latest trend.

Despite issues with his own family, Luca has a lot of personal of his own he deals with. He is capable of enduing tremendous hardship. Though he may not handle difficulty in the healthiest or best way, often repressing emotion, he mostly like emerges on the other side. He does not know how to express his emotions in a put together way, but rather fumbles it all up and starts to ramble. Rarely opens up because of this. He usually distracts himself from his insufferable emotions with hobbies such as playing the piano, painting, and reading some of his favorite classics. After he moved out the house at eighteen to pursue college and became more independent, he started to come into his own style with his wardrobe. To put it simple, he is like a hippie dippy child of the universe.

No joke. No seriously, his place at home and his dorm is full of sensual shit and art. It is getting out of hand and somebody needs stop him soon. Catch him rocking the Greek philosopher and Dead Poets Society aesthetic around campus. He strongly believes that art is an umbrella term that relates to expressing of oneself—not just through photography and painting—and that everyone has the freedom to express themselves however they please. Because of his beliefs, he chooses to break gender roles like bread and wears whatever the fuck he wants because yolo. His appearance pretty much represents his hippie dippy lifestyle with him wearing all sorts of hipster shit. His clothes can be very flowy like, but don’t let that fool you. He doesn’t miss the opportunity to represent his upper class within his style, so he does dress to impress, let me tell you. His hair color changes sometimes too depending on his mood but it’s generally never too eccentric.

[blackkudos]

Hill Harper

Francis Eugene "Hill" Harper (born May 17, 1966) is an American actor and author. He is known for his roles on CSI: NY, Limitless, and The Good Doctor.

Early life

Harper was born in Iowa City, Iowa, the son of Harry D. Harper, II, a psychiatrist, and Marilyn Harper (née Hill), who was one of the first black practicing anesthesiologists in the United States, and, co-authored a book called Wearing Purple. Hill Harper has been acting since the age of 7. Harper graduated from Bella Vista High School in 1984. He then graduated magna cum laude from Brown University in 1988. In 1992, Harper graduated with a JD, cum laude, from Harvard Law School. In addition, he also received his Master of Public Administration degree from the John F. Kennedy School of Government at Harvard University. During his years at Harvard, he was a full-time member of Boston's Black Folks Theater Company, one of the oldest and most acclaimed black theater troupes in the country. While a student at Harvard, Harper befriended Barack Obama, with whom he played basketball.

Although Harper earned three Ivy League degrees, he decided to pursue acting and moved to Los Angeles. He has received several honorary degrees, including honorary doctorates from both Westfield State College and Howard University. Born Francis Eugene Harper, he adopted the name "Hill" as a tribute to both his maternal and paternal ancestors.

Acting career

Harper's first roles in television began in 1993, in a recurring role on the Fox series Married... with Children, while also making his film debut in the short film Confessions of a Dog. He had his first acting role in a feature film with Spike Lee's Get on the Bus (1996), which cast him as a UCLA film student riding a bus to the Million Man March in Washington, D.C. He went on to further demonstrate his versatility in such films as Christopher Scott Cherot's Hav Plenty (1997) and Lee's He Got Game (1998), the former of which featured him as an egotistical pop-soul singer.

His profile subsequently rose on both the mainstream and independent film circuits, thanks to roles in films ranging from Beloved (1998) to the independent romantic comedy Loving Jezebel (1999) to The Skulls (2000). Harper did some of his most acclaimed work in Jordan Walker-Pearlman's The Visit (2000), an independent drama in which he starred as a prisoner dying of AIDS who tries to put his life back together. He also portrayed Leshem in the 2010 Syfy original movie Stonehenge Apocalypse.

Harper played coroner-turned-crime scene investigator Sheldon Hawkes on the CBS crime drama CSI: NY for nine seasons.

In February 2013, it was announced that CSI: NY would be ending and Harper would be joining the cast of Covert Affairs as a series regular.

From April 21, 2015, to May 10, 2015, Harper starred as "Hard Rock" in the Off-Broadway play ToasT. The play (produced by Lemon Andersen and co-starred Keith David) is set in the Attica Prison around the time of its 1971 prison riot and tells of the lives of its prisoners using poetic prose.

From May 1, 2018, to June 17, 2018, Harper starred as "Rooftop" in the Off-Broadway play Our Lady of 121st Street. This Dark Comedy (written by Stephen Adly Guirgis and directed by Phylicia Rashad) is about former students paying their respects to Sister Rose, only to find that Sister Rose's body has been stolen.

Since 2017, Harper has portrayed Dr. Marcus Andrews on the ABC series The Good Doctor.

Hill Harper's acting career also includes voice-over work (or voice acting) with CSI:NY the Video Game, Breathe Bible, and, a podcast called Legal Wars.

Writing career and political advocacy

Harper is the author of several books: Letters to a Young Brother: MANifest Your Destiny, published in 2006; Letters to a Young Sister: DeFINE Your Destiny, published in 2008; and The Conversation: How (Black) Men and Women Can Build Loving, Trusting Relationships, published in 2010. His books, The Wealth Cure: Putting Money in Its Place and The Wiley Boys were both published in 2011. His book, Letters to an Incarcerated Brother: Encouragement, Hope, and Healing for Inmates and Their Loved Ones was published in 2013.

In January 2008, Harper participated in "Yes We Can", a music video produced by will.i.am supporting presidential candidate Barack Obama. Harper is a member of the Obama for America National Finance Committee.As of October 2009, Hill has made several contributions to political candidates, exclusively to Democrats. Harper endorsed the 10,000 Bookbags back-to-school backpack campaign to help local disadvantaged children with Urban Change Ministries founder Pastor Jay Cameron of the Life Center, and R&B singer Ginuwine.Harper stated that he is a fiscal conservative when he appeared on the political talk show Hannity on September 10, 2009. On February 22, 2016, the Lawyers' Committee for Civil Rights Under Law announced that Harper would be their national spokesman.

Harper serves as the Executive Director for New York City personal injury law firm Napoli Shkolnik.

Awards and recognition

In the fall of 2008, Harper was initiated as a member of the Alpha Phi Alpha fraternity with his Co-Initiates (called "Line Brothers") Dr. Naim Akbar of Florida State University and former NFL player Leo LeMarcus Newman.

Harper won the NAACP Image Award for Outstanding Actor in a Drama Series for three consecutive years (2008–2010) for his portrayal of Dr. Sheldon Hawkes on CSI: NY. Previously he had been nominated for the award for three consecutive years (2005–2007), for the same character. In 2000, he had also been nominated for the award, for his role in the medical drama City of Angels. On January 9, 2014 his book Letters to an Incarcerated Brother: Encouragement, Hope, and Healing for Inmates and Their Loved Ones was nominated for an NAACP Image Award for Outstanding Literary Work – Non-Fiction.

In 2018, the Audience Development Committee, Inc. (AUDELCO) nominated Hill Harper for a Vivian Robinson Award; Lead Actor in a Play, for his role as Walter "Rooftop" Desmond in the Off-Broadway play: Our Lady of 121st Street.

People magazine named Hill Harper as one of the "Sexiest Men Alive" for 2004, and again for 2014.

Personal life

While writing his book The Wealth Cure: Putting Money In Its Place, Harper was diagnosed with thyroid cancer. After treatment, he was given a clean bill of health.

After being diagnosed with thyroid cancer, Harper researched the effects skin care products can have on a person's system. This led to his creating an all-natural personal care line for men and women, called Be The Architect.

In November 2015, Harper received a call to adopt a baby boy from a homeless woman. He agreed, and by May 2017, the adoption of Pierce (named after Pierce Brosnan) Hill Harper was finalized.