#and i know someone will bring up human error as proof

[dizzying-faust]

I'm in the minority that dislikes Blitz//bee that isn't related to Bumblebee's age.

[anthracite-writes]

Heyyy :) I was just wondering on expanding a bit on the Popular MC thing 👀 I was mainly wondering how the brother would react to MC who was finally burnt out socializing with all the demons wanting their attention and the boys just find MC in their room wanting alone time with each of the brothers 🥺

Obey Me! Brothers X Popular Socially Burnt Out! GN! MC

[Separate] Demon brothers x gn! reader || SFW || TW//CW: LOTTA angst <3, self-isolation, all time low/at the point of being unable to take care of oneself, hints at eating disorders (anorexia) in Beel's part. A//N: for context - check out this imagine :) - Summary: You've already reached the bottom of your social battery from your popularity and this doesn't go unnoticed by the demon brothers. After days of shutting yourself in your room and avoiding everyone and everything, you finally go to them - seeking comfort from your burn out.

NOT PROOF READ!! APOLOGIES FOR ANY TYPOS OR SPELLING ERRORS!

Also, apologies for getting this out hella late - I haven't check out my inbox since the last request I've put up. If you did put in a request, I'm working on them - school just got me swamped out of my mind.

𝗟𝘂𝗰𝗶𝗳𝗲𝗿

Would notice immediately notice your personality and normal behaviour is off

Will notice that you're setting yourself aside from students in RAD, eating alone both at home and RAD, locking yourself in your room once you get back to HoL and staying in there for hours on end.

Would catch you when you're out late in the night when you think everyone was asleep.

Brings you meals when you don't join them for meal times in the House of Lamentation.

Doesn't question why you're acting this way. He already knows, [he's got a sixth sense when it comes to you - source? Trust me on this]

Keeps his bedroom and study doors open for you, just in case if you want to talk to him

He's not the type to force you to talk to him about you're social exhaustion, he'll wait for you to talk about it to him on your own time.

Would welcome you with open arms into his bedroom/study whenever you need someone - doesn't matter what time it is, he would keep you company.

More often than not, he would stop by your room on his rounds to make sure everyone is where they're supposed to be that they're no where else - making sure you're asleep and all and that you're not up late and whatnot.

"Oh? [Y/N]... you're still awake..." He says, noticing you're awake in your bed. Lucifer makes his way towards your bed and sit on the edge beside you. The demon pulls you into his arms, holding you close to his body, his hand on the back of your head and the other on your back. All Lucifer wants you to know is that he's here for you. "All this attention must be be tiring..." he would coos in a soft tone. "From now on... if you need someone to be with you, it should be me... only, me."

𝗠𝗮𝗺𝗺𝗼𝗻

Wouldn't notice till later.

He's still a bit pouty about all the attention that you're getting that

When he notices you've become withdrawn in school, often opting to be alone - that's when he gets worried about your well being.

Sure, he's greedy for your attention but it's important to him that his human is okay.

He is your first pact, remember?

When your alone, he'd often go join you.

He doesn't care if you don't want to talk - he just want to keep you company [Though he would point out some random stuff in your surroundings to try to make you laugh.]

Probably would start getting a bit childish and pouty when he sees your not reacting to anything he's saying.

He really just want to see you smile again - that's all he wants at this point.

Would be the type to try to encourage you to talk about your feelings.

Willing to help you in anyway he can.

If you do tell him what's going on with you and the whole point of being burned out, he starts to tone down his urges to try to get you out.

Cuddle time? anytime, anywhere. Even if you don't ask for it.

Bro's slinking into your bed for cuddles.

He doesn't want you to feel alone during your down time.

Holds you close from behind, spooning you as he talks about whatever to fill the silence.

"Y/N... I know... you don't have to take in everyone's attention..." He mumbles against your head as you two lay in his bed cuddling. "Who needs randos being around you all the time, trying to impress you?" Mammon chuckles, giving you a little squeeze. He gently runs his fingers through your hair, playing with it. "I can give you all the attention you'd ever need, and I know for a fact you won't get fed up like you did with them. They drain you, I on the other hand - oh, I'll make sure you never get like this again." "Just keep you're eyes on me from now on, 'kay? And I'll give you all my attention."

𝗟𝗲𝘃𝗶𝗮𝘁𝗵𝗮𝗻

Wouldn't notice at all, he's shut into his room - remember?

But when he notices you've been even more hauled up in you bedroom than him.

Starts worrying even he notices you're not even showing up to any of the classes.

You're not supposed to be the shut-in, that's his job!

You're supposed to be his Player 2 in school, his emotional support.

Starts blowing up your text messages till you respond.

When you do respond and explain to him what's been going on with you, he gets it right away.

He knows how it feels, socializing is overwhelming for him so he can't even imagine what it feels like being in the spotlight

Would set up a private chatroom for the two of you to interact one on one while you recharge your social batteries so you don't feel overwhelmed with fact to face interaction.

Would have movie nights over calls, talks to you over chats and VCs, etc etc.

Love seeing you become more lively over the chats and VCs .

Makes sure to drop off food at your room when he's out of his room - he knows what it's like to forget to eat or drink, and doesn't want your state to worsen physically with malnourishment.

Lets you vent out your frustrations and all - you've done it so much for him, it's time for him to be a good bestie.

Often would try to relate to you by bringing up his experience without trying to make it all about him.

Just tries his best to comfort you even though he's not the best [gold star for Levi for trying]

"I'm glad you told me, Y/N... I was getting a bit worried you've forgotten about me and I'm back to level zero friend-wise. That it was just Henry and I again..." The demon rambled, earning a soft laugh on your end of the voice call and Leviathan responding with his usual whines when he feels flusted. "But anyway... I'm glad we cleared up the misunderstanding between us. I'm just surprised is all, you of all people getting burnt out? I though I was the one with poor social skills and a shut in." "But seriously... I understand how you feel. And... um.. erm..." His voice trails off as he mumbles under his breath. "...and I'm happy I get to help you this time... you've done a lot and I want to do the same for you..."

𝗦𝗮𝘁𝗮𝗻

He has a keen eye, he will notice in a heartbeat.

When you start excusing yourself and walking back to the HoL alone, that's when he decides to take things into his own hands.

VERY confrontational - won't hesitate to even break down your door if you decide to shut yourself in for a couple hours.

Is passively aggressively trying to get you to tell him what's the matter and why you're acting in such a way that is the polar opposite of how you act usually.

Once he figures out that you're burned out - he gets right into action trying to make you feel better.

You're the only person who he can tolerate, but he will not tolerate this burnout slump.

Is more calm in his methods of trying to help you recharge from said burnout slump.

Would often drag you out of the house to go cat watching with him, thinking it would have the same effect on you as on him when he's stressed and whatnot.

Once he connects the dots that maybe his methods aren't working seeing you aren't improving, he's trying other methods he read about.

Would bring you tea and books he thinks you'll enjoy.

Let's you snuggle up with him under the covers as he reads to you.

Stays with you when you eventually fall asleep, hugging you as he rubs your back or strokes your hair to comfort you - letting you know he's still there as your rest.

Satan looks over at you from the pages of the book he was reading too you, seeing you've fallen asleep against him. He lets out a soft sigh and puts aside the book before laying you down on the bed in a more comfortable position, laying down next to you as watching you sleep. "You must be tired, Y/N..." he muttered softly to himself, reaching out and gently stroking your hair in a caring manner. He scoots closer to you as he pulls the covers over the two of you, tucking you two in before wrapping his arms around you in your slumber - pressing you against his body to insure you feel his warmth. "Rest easy, Y/N... I'm not leaving..."

𝗔𝘀𝗺𝗼𝗱𝗲𝘂𝘀

Notice but brushes it off at first but starts worrying when he notices you're refusing his invites out.

When you completely start acting out of it (not even wanting to go out with him and him alone), he's gonna lose it.

He does care for you, and WILL go full on panic mode.

He's checking your temperature, begging you to go see a doctor to check if it was some kind of illness.

Worse case, his mind would wander off to the thought that you're finally sick of him and being around him all the time.

Just sit him down before he starts making up fake scenarios where you ended your friendship with him and explain your social burnout

"...Ohhhhhh - then why didn't you start off with that, hon? You got me all worked up for nothing. Come, you need some R & R. Just the two of us, 'kay?"

Two of you have a complete spa and self-care day, and boy does Asmo go all out.

Face masks, skin care, long soaking in the bath with the best of the best products, doing each other's nails, online shopping sprees etc. etc.

Would give you the juiciest of drama while you are social checked out to cheer you up.

If that isn't your cup of tea, he's more than happy to listen to you with your problems.

Tell him your troubles and he'll try his best to comfort you.

Very handsy and touchy-feely when comforting you - ie. cuddles, caresses, holding your hand, etc.

"Oh, babes... you should of told me you were getting overwhelmed with all the popularity you've been getting you burned out." Asmo cooed as he places a hand on your cheek. "Gems like yourself need time away from people to let yourself shine once more to their fullest potential... Don't be so hard on yourself okay? You just need to tell me these things." "And you wanna know why?" He says with a cheeky grin, booping your nose in a playful manner, "Because you are my favourite person besides myself, and like myself - I'd drop everything to make sure my gem is okay before anything else. I'll reject clubbing invites and such, just to know you're going to be okay., Y/N"

𝗕𝗲𝗲𝗹𝘇𝗲𝗯𝘂𝗯

Notices when you started to skip meals to go be alone in your room

Starts getting worried when you either miss meals or offering your portion of your meals

Food is his way to comfort you during your burnout.

When you haul yourself up in your room, he'd often leave your comfort snacks.

If you two bump into each other in the kitchen, he's going to offer to cook for you - especially if you haven't ate anything in the hours.

Will fight tooth and nail not to eat what he's cooking up for you.

Will encourage you to eat, even if it's a couple bites.

After you eat, he'll do the dishes real quick and walk you back to your room so you can rest.

Stays by your bedside while you rest, holding your hand as if you're gonna just disappear again if you let go.

I got a feeling he's good a reading you and how you're feeling.

He already knows without you saying a word. And he'll stay by your side till you're back to your usual self.

"Y/N... I know you're not feeling like yourself and that's okay... you don't have to talk about it with me if you want but I'm here for you of course. I want you to know that" Beel says quietly as he watches you try to rest in your bed, giving your hand a slight squeeze. "Just make sure you eat. It's not good you've been forgetting to give yourself nourishments. I understand your tired and not feeling well, but do understand it's not healthy that your accedentally missing meals." He said, guiding your hand up to his cheek. "And I'll be sure of it. I'll take care of you, I promise you that Y/N"

𝗕𝗲𝗹𝗽𝗵𝗲𝗴𝗼𝗿

Wouldn't notice at all. He's asleep 99.9% of the time - canon.

But once he notices you're no longer showing up to any of his napping places to take a break from people after school.

Would sleepy wander around the HoL till he found you hiding in your room as you recharge from your burnout.

Crawls into your bed and just snuggles with you.

He can feel your tired, and not the usual tired - so he's happy to make sure you get the rest you need.

Often leaves and comes back with more pillows and blankets to make sure your comfortable and all.

Not much talking would happen. He just wants you to rest and only rest.

Keeps everything the same, not wanting to change anything that may stress you even more than you are now in your burnout state.

"Y/N, just stay here with me..." Belphie spoken in his groany voice, evident he's just woken up. The young demon squeezed you slightly as he pulled you closer, putting his leg over you to keep you down on the matrass them. "It's important you rest. You need it to function." He murmurs into the crook of your neck. "Being so popular must be draining... so just rest."

[stuckasmain]

Hal tries to warn them. Twice. I hadn’t noticed until recently but he does, it’s hard to notice because the way he tries to sounds so routine for him. The second time was just before Frank’s murder making it an all the more tragic case.

Hal is programmed to tell the truth- he wants to- has to and yet the one most vital part he can’t tell them. Not yet. But he tries to work around the order by bringing it up in ways where he is not explicitly telling them that something is wrong or about the true nature of the mission. Unfortunately for Hal the way he goes about it is too similar to that of his typical behavior and it goes unnoticed by the crew until it is too late. It is hard to pick up on his concern/meaning without already knowing something was wrong in the first place. This is the case during the second attempt but it backfires- now his entire existence is in jeopardy.

His first attempt is sprinkled with if/have/you/perhaps. His questions seem rhetorical and prying and it’s mistaken for a psychological evaluation. “I’d be worried if I heard XYZ, wouldn’t you be?” Rather than “I’m worried about this, do you feel the same?” Dave seems to pick up on the strain and nerves in his tone but isn’t entirely sure what to do with it. Maybe he just sees it as Hal’s speech improving and becoming more conversational with better tone.

The second time it is just assumed to be his usual behavior, Hal has always been a tad prideful and self assured. His insistence on the matter of error wouldn’t be unusual despite him pointing it out a bit more than usual.

“It can only be attributable to human error.”

I think this here is as close as he can come to outright telling them, it has always been attributable to human error. Someone put in a wrong number or gave a stranger order, a computer can only be as good as its inputs in that if you mess up code, orders etc. it cannot be at fault for that. Here Hal is hinting that the cause of the break, what lead him to (unknowingly) falsify it has been because of conflicting orders and intervention by humans. This wouldn’t have happened if he wasn’t given conflicting orders and lead to lie- he had been operating perfectly before and all of this time … how is that not proof to them that he is not at fault? (In his mind) He thinks he is being much more explicit than he really is- his earlier attempt and the current one fall too inline with how he usually acts for them to take notice, there’s a nuance not noticed by his human companions.

It also further plays into the fact Hal is sick. His attempts at warning them are just as unconscious as him hallucinating the faults in the first place. If he doesn’t know/believe anything is wrong with him why would he try to warn them in the first place? These little moments of lucidity and begging that a truly sick person never seems to remember and you can’t be sure of it was really them or just the fever. That’s why, even after there’s an idea of what’s going on Dave and Frank are still uncertain.

Can you really heed a warning that might be just as much of a trick as the failure?

Can you heed a warning you don’t hear?

When he makes the second attempt they now know something is wrong, except it doesn’t matter what cause it at this point It is something wrong with Hal, their concern is much more on their own and mission survival. Hal has to go to sleep for a while, he must be deactivated— if he hallucinated this break what other vital element could be next? What if it’s the life support systems? Cause doesn’t matter right now survival does.

By the time he makes this second warning it’s too late for him or any of them…

[lais-a-ramos]

so, i don't know much this fits into today's theme for lottielee weekend, "day 1: missing/extended scene", but...😅

yesterday i was talking with some discord server friends about the theme of belonging in yellowjackets, and it made me want to expand a bit on how important the relationship between lottie and laura lee is even if they had a relatively short time together in season 1 (if i remember correctly, the showrunners said they abandoned any attempt at tracing an outline for teen timeline, but, as some might know now with those leaked scripts from a few months ago, they spent only three days as each other's People, so, a really short time!!!!)

lottielee is such an special ship, not bc it's "healthier" or whatever, especially since it isn't healthier than any other yellowjackets ship lol

it's special bc lottie spent her whole life feeling like she is an error of nature due to all the psychophobia/sanism that she has faced due to her psychosis episodes and schizophrenia diagnosis, and then comes this girl saying that she is not an error but that she is a gift from God.

and, sure, yellowjackets is a horror story, so that ends up being the catalyst for the tragedy that comes later.

actually, yellowjackets not only draws inspiration from horror, but it seems like it also draws a lot of inspiration specifically from Gothic fiction and literature as it's defined on the Wikipedia entry, especially the parts on how Gothic fiction "is characterized by an environment of fear, the threat of supernatural events, and the intrusion of the past upon the present", how "the depiction of horrible events in Gothic fiction often serves as a metaphorical expression of psychological or social conflicts", how "the form of a Gothic story is usually discontinuous and convoluted, often incorporating tales within tales, changing narrators, and framing devices such as discovered manuscripts or interpolated histories" and how "especially in the late 19th century, Gothic fiction often involved demons and demonic possession, ghosts, and other kinds of evil spirits".

so, with that type of inspiration, it was obvious that things would have a tragic end, which is lottie's downward spiral into cult leader precisely due to this new-found confidence in her visions inspired by laura lee's faith in her.

still, that dynamic, that idea of being moved by someone that tells you that you're not an error of nature and growing attached to then even if for a relatively short time, that is something that's so fragile and so...Human.

and, also, there's a parallel there to be made with queerness, yet another thing that systematic oppression treats as nature's mistake, and how much relief it can bring when someone makes sure that it is not.

as for laura lee, we can't say that it's something that is one-sided on lottie's part.

we can see in pool scene that she feels disconnected from the other ppl in church, as much as lottie herself seems to feel disconnected from her large but empty mansion; actually, that she feels so disconnected to the point of attempting to take her own life, or, at least, some form of self-harm by diving into the shallow end.

and, as jane widdop themself has said in their interview to the yellowjackets buzz podcast, pool scene was a result of laura lee having a similar immaturity to cope with emotions to what the other girls had at doomcoming, which adds to the idea that it was an impulsive act of desperation, a mental health struggle which was received by her peers as just proof she needed to have "more faith" bc she survived the not-so-accidental "accident".

there is a parallel to be made with queerness here as well, actually, with how oftenly queer Christians are told by conservatives that if they have "more faith" they will be "fixed".

so, lottie going after her asking for advice, it was probably the first time she ever felt like someone has seen her and genuinely took her seriously.

the first time someone really took their time to actually listen to what she had to say.

so, we have these two girls who are so fucking starved for validation.

and they met each other, and, for a moment, they belonged together before death (an very strange plane explosion with literally no spark or other catalyst for the fire, to be more specific) did them part, and that is tragic, and melancholic, and so so painfully human...

anyways...

lottielee is a such a raw and fantastic dynamic and i could spend hours talking about them 😅

[nanakiwii]

STARDEW VALLEY HANNIGRAM???

What the actual-?!

Really????

The voices won.

I regret nothing.

---------

Prison was boring.

Being locked up, as Hannibal expected, was all about routine and schedule. You wake up, eat, shower and shit when they tell you to. Good behavior was the key to bring back some of his old life pleasures: books and music, for example, were some of those achievements he earned.

But, Hannibal sensed he still needed something, or, someone to fill this void he called existence. After three years of isolation and intense silence, Hannibal couldn't help but to dig in every interaction he shared with his beloved.

In the time while they were apart, Will - somehow - managed to get engaged and marry a faceless woman and, as much as it hurt Hannibal, he couldn't deny he was happy to see Will as desperate as himself to try to easy the pain of their distance.

The lack of human contact didn't do great to his temperament and Hannibal knew we was becoming more "sassy" as days passed. He was bored. The bliss of the attention he received by the media was gone for ages. He found every assumption of his "diagnose" wrong and very dumb. "If this is the proof of human brightness, then we're destined to live in darkness" he thought.

It was this boredom that made him poke Alana Bloom until he discovered a way to taunt Will and to end his sickening loneliness.

Stardew Valley.

Apparently, it was farming game he could play with friends and family. And who was Will if not a friend and part of his family? Well, Hannibal guessed he had to find a way to play this exquisite video game with his precious Will.

---------

~ Inspired by this horrendous comic I drew on the printscreen brush tool a long time ago while I was sleep deprived and very very bored.

Text:

Will: "What is this game about?"

Hannibal: "I suppose it's a farm game, Will."

Will: "And, why you wanna play with me?"

Hannibal: "Well, Alana commented about it, and I'm curious."

Will: "I don't believe you."

Hannibal: "Come on, Will. I'm locked and bored. Help me out."

Will: "Fine."

Later...

Will *behind a computer screen*: "I still don't know how you manage to have those things."

Hannibal *also behind a computer screen*: "I'm a very behaved prisoner."

Will: "..."

Will: "No, look, let's just play."

[Stardew Valley home screen]

Hannibal: "Soo much hair options."

Will: "Shut up."

Hannibal: "What do I put on 'favorite thing?'"

Hannibal: "Such a hard question!"

Will: "I wrote 'dogs'"

Hannibal: "Yeah, I suppose you did."

Will: "You want me to ask, don't you?"

Hannibal: "Ask what?"

Will: "What did you write?"

Hannibal: "Oh, hoho... You would be surprised."

Will: "If you say 'pork' I'll kill you."

Hannibal: "Then, you better pick a knife."

Will: "Fuck you and your cannibal jokes, Hannibal!"

Hannibal: "Me and my jokes."

[Hannibal's character building screen:

Name: Hannibal M.D

Farm Name: Hospital

Favorite Thing: Will Graham ]

End.

AGAIN: SORRY ABOUT THE MAJOR GRAMMAR AND ENGLISH ERRORS. I WAS HALF ASLEEP HALF ALIVE AND I NEEDED SOME CRACK FIC TO KEEP GOING!

I wanted to post it somewhere because I keep laughing alone about what I made and wanted to share with other people.

The art is shit, but someday I'll make something better (I probably won't. Will I?)

[ironwoodprotectionsquad]

They’ve already been blocked but my gosh just. Wow. Okay. I didn’t really look through their blog so I really cannot comment on what caliber they think the show is but to call James’s arc “amazing writing” that’s just a whole new level. Do you really think ableism is amazing? Do you think trauma and PTSD going untreated is amazing? Do you think repeated backstabbing to the point of shattering someone is amazing? Do you think harmful tropes that people use in real life against living breathing people who are disabled is amazing? Because that is what James’s arc is.

James is a man who freezes and does the human equivalent of error 404ing when his speech does not go exactly as he preplanned. A man who affectionately chuckled when he learned RWBY stole a military airship. Who assured a bunch of terrified students during the event that gave him severe PTSD that no one would judge them if they fled. Who stood up for Weiss against Jacques and refused to arrest a traumatized girl who spoke out against the bullshit happening around her. Who gave Yang a free new prosthetic because he believed she earned it through her bravery during the fall. His arc in volume 8 goes against literally everything that we where shown James stood for. You also on so conveniently forgot the moment when confronted with what appeared to be Qrow ready to attack him lowered his weapon and accepted he would be hurt because when push came to show he refused to harm an ally. And then Qrow assured him he knows James would never do any of this? Once again reminding us that James wouldn’t pull the shit they had him pull in volume 8?

And no he didn’t “throw Ozpin under the bus” he told the truth. He didn’t lie or try and cover up Ozpins mistakes he told the damn truth. He was then given the position of head of security. He is militaristic yes but he has a good reason. When dealing with an endless army of soulless man eating monsters I understand the desire to bring your army to a massive event likely to be very emotional which attracts said man eating beasts. He’s by no means perfect but he certainly isn’t the devil you need him to be so you can continue to lick the boots of an ableist, sexist and homophobic company that has proof they abuse their workers.

[jinxhallows]

Uninvited. [Part VII]

Uninvited. a short series ft. Felix, Chan and Hyunjin

cw: 100% AU, afab reader, supernatural creature themes/tropes, vampire theme/tropes, hybrid theme/tropes.

word count: 4.5k

part one -> click here

part two -> click here

part three (explicit content) -> click here

part four -> click here

part five (explicit content) -> click here

part six -> click here

——–

Felix gives you the phone, mutters something about his study, and disappears in a high-speed blur, leaving you alone in the living room.  The automatic curtains have drawn now that Dawn is approaching, leaving the den covered with orange tones cast by the recessed ceiling lights. 

“Little witch?” Chan says on the other line.   

He sounds tired, his voice croaks. 

“Are you okay?” You ask with concern. 

He sighs.  “Someone’s blown the whistle here unfortunately…I came to get the final key to bringing Hyunjin back; and that’s the remains of the witch that sealed him.” 

You shift in your seat, pressing the phone closer to your ear.  “Felix told me you were going to do a spell, and Hyunjin said you had to kill a witch to do it.  Why would you run off like that without us? Isn’t that how we got here? Being overpowered by witches?” You realize you’re lecturing and stop yourself, changing your tone.  

“Let me help you.” 

Chan took a reflective pause, filled with thoughts of respect and admiration for your bravery and also perhaps slightly turned on by the tone you took towards him when you chastised him. 

“The shop where I’ve found a witch is now guarded by vampires.  Either the witch community here is all cloaked, or they're hard to come by in this town, but…I’m probably going to need some magic and some backup if I’m to do this successfully, and little witch—“ 

“I have been wanting to take you out for ice cream since we’ve met, I don’t have room for error.” 

——— 

Dawn had broken outside, you hadn’t any idea what time or how bright the sun was behind the expensive customizations to make the home daylight proof all around.  Felix was in his daytime death, resting safely locked inside of his bedroom. 

You sit upon the floor next to your bed.  You’ve drawn a circle, a summoning sigil in your blood upon a large piece of parchment paper.  You have a glass of Felix’s blood he carefully spilled for you before he laid to rest.  You hadn’t any way to preserve it, so although it had only been maybe ten or fifteen minutes, some of the blood had congealed in a very unappealing way.  His blood was also dark, a lot darker than human blood.  It still smeared deep cherry, but it appeared the colour of chocolate syrup. 

Closing your eyes, you take a grounding breath before chanting the spell in the foreign tongue that was written on the page in front of you.  You chant again, and again, and again, until you can feel your body temperature rising slowly in an unnatural way.  You take this as a good sign and follow your intuition as you throw back the half glass of jellied blood.  You gag when the texture first enters your mouth, but you had never taste Felix’s blood until this very moment.   

Despite you wanting to hurl it back up from the thickness, it dances down your throat and refreshes and quenches a thirst you didn’t know you had.  You feel your heart racing and as if someone’s shaken you up like a can of carbonated soda.  It’s hard to focus, to concentrate on completing the spell like this when you’re overwhelmed by the feeling of his blood in your system.  You blink a few times, trying to clear the brightness of all the pigments in front of your field of vision.   

You blink again and seem to see him, Felix, his eyes, in front of yours so close…too close…he’s not supposed to be this close— 

You chant louder, hands feeling and searching for the athame on the floor that you couldn’t see, your eyesight blinded by visions and colors you’ve never seen before. 

Cold hands slip between your legs and you gasp from the way it soothes the fire in your loins.  Icy fingers slip between your folds and the more you’re touched, the more in control you convinced yourself that you felt. 

‘Chan-‘ you breathe. 

His voice, dark, low, you hear it inside of your head like telepathy. 

‘No little witch, try again.’ 

You stagger onto your side, feeling the heat becoming too much to bear.  You feel like you’re melting, hot air too thick to breathe in.  You fall over to the side, catching yourself on your elbow as you slice the center of your palm and slam it onto the center of the sigil, blacking out entirely. 

You come to in the all too familiar room.  You collect yourself far quicker this time and sit up, shaking off the discomfort of the trip here. 

But the room is empty. 

You stand up from the bed, looking around, turning every which way hoping at some point Hyunjin would pop out with a surprise of sorts. 

Instead, you hear a scream of agony that makes you notice the door has been left ajar. 

On the two occasions you’ve been here, Hyunjin has been unabashedly paranoid about whoever else lurked in these halls, and was diligent about keeping his tiny quarters locked. 

Another scream and you can now tell the voice belongs to Hyunjin himself.  You scramble to your feet, tripping over something on the floor. 

Crouching down, you pick up what looks to be an ancient, leather-bound book.  It lay haphazardly upon the dirt floor, the parchment pages open.  When you turn it around, you see what appears to be Latin text scribbled out.  It was difficult to read, as the book had fallen into a collected small puddle of blood.  The parchment had soaked it through, smudging the black ink. 

Another scream. 

You tuck the book into your bra, gently opening the door to look out into the corridor.  Each step you take towards the door builds more hesitation. 

You’re not some kind of a hero.  You should break the summoning link and return to the world of the living.  You can tell Felix and Chan to expedite the spell and— 

“Do it. You know everything now.” 

“Do what?” A singsong voice, hollow, empty.  Like a glass vase in a room of darkness.  “Do you want me to kill you Hyunjin? Do you know what you’re asking of me?” 

“You’re the oldest witch I know—are you too stupid to figure out how to kill me? Don’t tell me that’s why you’re dragging this out— “  

Hyunjin’s weak laugh is interrupted by the yell that breaks forth from his chest as his flesh is burned with a sharpened iron stake. 

You clasp your hands to your mouth to physically stop yourself from the reflexive scream you were ready to cry when you see Hyunjin inside of the mysterious room at the end of the corridor that you had never made it to… 

You had never made it there, 

Until now. 

All ruby haired, battered and bloodied; his eyes a metallic, golden, hungry hue, Hyunjin sat in a chair, surrounded by a circle of what you could sense as powerful magick.  It was keeping him there. 

But that wasn’t all, for double protection—he bore iron shackles on his arms and legs; and he couldn’t break them with vampiric strength which could only mean one thing. 

They were charmed to keep him in place. 

He sees you over the shoulder of the tall woman ---half covered with thick black curls down to her waist---whom you faced the backside of only a few yards away.  The room was enormous and reeked of filth and bodily fluids.  Blood smeared on the walls, various body parts of animals scattered blasphemously after rituals.   

Hyunjin’s eyes meet with the ancient witch in front of him.  “Edith you’ve had my soul for almost a thousand years—don’t bring my brothers into this.  I killed you, this is between you and me- “ 

You press your palm tighter against your mouth as Edith pulls her iron stake back out of the fire once more, glowing hot, and shoves it directly into his chest, next to his heart.  The hot metal burns, melts, causes blood to spill out from his body and Hyunjin feels dizzy with rage and near intolerable amounts of pain.  His curse heals everything seconds later, only for her to drive the stake in once more. 

“It was between you and me.  But then you assumed I didn’t have witches guarding my remains.  Guarding my town from your filthy family. In fact, that’s just like Christophe to waltz right in, considering himself invincible, just out in the open, in a town that hates him; go to the oldest witch shop and then purchase dark objects…” Edith clicks her tongue as she places the stake back into the hot flames. 

If he were able to pass out from the pain threshold, he would’ve by now. 

“A stupid boy, a foolish boy. He was never good enough for my daughter, filthy mutt.”

“And then… he asks for a witch, I wonder why.  Why, pray tell, does a vampire want an old witch to help him with a spell?” 

“Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to, pretty lady, you know your blood is a better high than drugs.” He watches her as she approaches him once again, standing in front of him.  She takes his chin in her hands, digging her fingertips into his pale flesh.  Her nails are sharp, and blood trickles down his jaw and neck from the pierced skin. 

He still doesn’t react.  Instead, his eyes narrow. 

“My brother likes fine dining and has good taste, what can I say? We’re not your average family.” 

Edith’s lengthy fingernails slash across his face, leaving jagged scars that begin sealing as soon as he looks back up at her with a smirk. 

“Do you think I'm a fool, Hyunjin?! Witches have been disappearing down here left and right, blood trails hidden by cloaked spells I couldn’t find.  You’ve discovered how to perform magick as a vampire, and you’ve told Christophe and Felix, haven’t you?” 

Hyunjin remains silent, his expression stoic and unchanged.   

Edith lets loose a shrill scream and it echoes and reverberates, making you feel as if your brain was rattling around inside of your skull.  You stumble back and cover your ears, wincing.  She grabs Hyunjin by the neck, her teeth gritted. 

“I may not be able to kill you, but I’ll see to it that your brothers join you down here for a family reunion very soon.” 

Hyunjin’s eyes flit to you once more.  He can see the edge of the grimoire and its imprint inside of your shirt.  He smiles internally. 

Christophe always liked the clever ones. 

 “Go.” He mouths.  Edith whips around and you both lock eyes.  You’ve never felt such a strong sense of dread.  It was as if you were fighting to keep your spirit inside of your body as you froze to the spot. 

“GO!” 

Felix’s eyes break open as he rips the blankets off of his body.  It was as if he heard something explode.  His blood stirred him awake. 

He disappears up the stairs, finding you on the ground choking.  You feel fluid in your throat that you’re trying to hack out and when you see its blood spattered on the ground, you start to panic.  Felix is kneeling next to you, trying to calm you down, trying desperately to figure out what was going on. 

He sees the summoning materials beside you and now he understands as he forces you to sit up straight. 

“Someone tried to kill you, but they didn’t succeed.  Try to calm down, this will pass shortly and you’ll be okay little witch.”  Felix patiently rubs your back as he waits for the spell to be over.  You feel like an elephant is sitting on your chest, everything feels so heavy, like you were going to crumble. 

That’s when you realize something. 

As you clutch your chest, you feel an object.  You slip your hand into your shirt and pull out the grimoire and the weight immediately dispersesfrom you as you work to catch your breath and your airway opens completely for the first time in what felt like hours. You gulp in giant breaths until your equilibrium returns. 

Felix furrows his eyebrows, picking up the book and turning it over in his hands.  There’s a dark mark on the front of it that you didn’t remember from before.  Fresh blood is painted on the front and you realize it’s soaked your shirt too. He flips open right to the bloodied page and freezes. 

“This blood…it’s my brother’s…” he looks up at you in horror, “What happened?” 

“Is it dusk yet?” 

“Nearly…another two hours.” 

“It’s Hyunjin.  Edith, she knows he told me about the sigil.  She knows Chan is in their town right now.  We have to leave, now.” 

“We’ll have to take the truck; we have a light tight compartment for us built inside.” He stands up, helping you to your feet.  “Are you sure you’re okay, little witch? Dimension hopping with an attempted spiritual assassination isn’t exactly light work.” 

“I’m fine.” You say, avoiding eye contact, earlier visions flickering in your mind and making you feel all kinds of uncomfortable. 

Felix wants to argue back that you’re not fine, and he could tell something was off about you.  Chan was in immediate danger however, and that took precedence over anything else at the moment for the both of you. 

“Meet me in the garage in ten.” 

“Make it five.” You call out behind you as you, hurrying out of the room. 

------ 

You’re not sure what you had thought Felix meant by ‘light tight’.  You hadn’t calculated at all the unfortunate inconvenience of him not being able to be exposed to sunlight.  Even a couple of hours before dusk, his body would combust.   

So yes, it was strange to be on the highway, orange skies ahead of you with the sun closing down onto the horizon to your left; and to be talking to someone in the trunk via an intercom system built into the dashboard.  It was like being on a Bluetooth phone call in the car, but the idea that the person was in the trunk was just the part your brain wouldn’t stop reminding you of. 

This life you’ve chosen to live was strange indeed. 

“You made a good call, having us leave earlier.” Felix’s voice comes over the sound system.  “Chan agreed—if we make it before dusk, there won’t be any vampires to spot us.” 

“What about the witches? Edith didn’t mention vampires, she said she had witches guarding her remains and the town.  Is there only one way in and out of this place?” Your fingers tighten and loosen around the steering wheel as the crushing reality of the life-threatening situation you were in begins to sink in. 

“We’re not driving into the town little witch.  When we were exiled all those years ago, we made sure that for us, there would be only one way in and out.” 

You’re confused, you glance at the GPS on the screen. 

“Aren’t we going to meet up in the town where Chan’s staying?” You inquire. 

There’s a pause. 

“Chan’s not staying in the city.  He was careless to go in uncloaked for the supplies, but though impulsive, my brother knows he can be killed if he stays inside of the borders for too long.” Felix sighs, “No, we aren’t headed into the town.  We’re going to visit an old friend.” 

The sun dips under the horizon as the skies darken during the two hour drive.  When your GPS has you turning onto a dirt road with no streetlights, you become more alert, almost feeling the hair stand up on your arms.  You make another turn, and the trees curl away from the road in a strange, peculiar way.  The truck stalls, bringing you to a jerky, abrupt and unexpected stop.  Your heart starts racing as the lights start flickering. 

“Shit.” You hear Felix’s voice, a bit of clamoring from the trunk and then he’s in the seat next to you, dialing a number on his phone and dusting himself off, smoothing his clothes. 

“What’s wrong?” You ask. 

Felix is about to answer when he hears the other line pickup and immediately is drawn back in annoyance.  

“Han Jisung! You couldn’t have disenchanted the road when I called earlier?!” 

“Absolutely not Felix.  How do you think I’ve stayed alive this long?” 

You gasp as you look in front of you once more and someone’s standing there, holding a phone to his ear, illuminated by the bright headlights of your truck.  Short, black wavy hair frames his face. He wears a navy blue turtleneck and dark pants.  He slowly lifts his hand and the vehicle stirs back to life. 

Felix looks irritated as he presses end on his phone call and rolls the window down, sticking his head out. 

“I should persuade her to run you over–” 

“Chan!” You’re completely distracted as you see the onyx wolf emerge, standing next to the stranger.  You shove the door open and clumsily make your way out of the vehicle to run over to him. 

Jisung takes the opportunity to hop in the driver’s seat.  He closes the door and looks over at Felix with a cheeky grin.  “You should, but I think that window is closed, my old friend.” 

They both look out the front window at you, careless about the dirt, on the ground, hugging the black wolf.  You pull back and look into his amber eyes and realize you had never seen him in this form since the first night you met, under a far more terrifying pretense. 

You’re staring too long; it must be making him uncomfortable.  He whimpers and licks your nose.  You fall back onto your bum, wiping your face. 

“Aw come on! It’s a lot less hot when you have wolf breath.” You laugh.  Two barks and he runs around in a circle. 

“Hey Lady & The Tramp, can we take a raincheck on the Disney special and figure out how we’re gonna end this ancient bitch?”  Jisung honks the horn and yells out the window. 

You lean forward and ruffle the hair atop Chan’s furry head before you two both go back to the truck, sliding into the backseat.  Jisung begins the trek up the hill to his home. 

“Why are you a wolf now anyway?” You ask, running your fingers over the soft, black fur of his back.  Chan’s thick muzzle lays in your lap as he enjoys your comfort and touch. 

“He can’t answer you; you know.” 

You look up and can see Jisung’s glance at you in the rearview mirror.  He chuckles, eyes returning to the road once more. 

“When my barrier spell went off, he came as a wolf for protection.  We knew you two were coming…but you can never be too sure.” 

You silently nod in understanding, watching the moon out the window as Jisung parks in front of an old Victorian home.   

Exiting the vehicle, you all follow Jisung inside of his home.  Chan scampers up the stairs, while you, Felix and Jisung all sit in the living room around a large, round table.   

Once seated, your hands in your lap, you look around at the home.  A fireplace, unlit, with a mantle filled with dusty, old, strange things.  White and black wax was melted in thick globs over the edges and down the sides.  An elaborate altar was set up near the window with deities you didn’t recognize, and photographs of what appeared to be perhaps the ancestors of Jisung.  From growing up, you knew what an ancestral altar looked like…and by the looks of this one…Jisung was not a novice witch by any means. 

“So, if Edith plans on capturing your souls and not killing you…it's probably because she hasn’t figured out how to.” Jisung is standing in front of a bookcase, carefully running his fingers along each one as he talks.  He pulls one free and comes back over to the table, setting it down.  Felix hands him the grimoire you retrieved from earlier. 

He looks at you before he opens the grimoire first.   “I’m Jisung, by the way.” 

“Jisung’s family were powerful healers that worked with all species and were always good to my family, even when we were mortal.” Felix pulls the other book across the table, looking at its pages. 

“How old are you?” you ask. 

“I lost count after 300.  You’re not supposed to count the years I was dead…carry the amount of time I was resurrected, divided by the bodies I inhabited–oh I don’t know.” Jisung laughs. “I’m old.  That’s all you need to know…what’s your name?” 

“We call her little witch.” You hear Chan and he comes into the room, now a fully dressed beautiful human. 

“Actually, Hyunjin calls me pretty witch.” You tease as Chan sits in the wooden chair next to you. 

“Ah.” He places a hand on your knee.  “Remind me to dagger him for another year when we get him back.” 

You giggle and he leans forward to kiss you.  His lips are soft, you gently hold his face and you both pull away from one another, feeling the after waves of the euphoria you got in each other’s presence lately.  It was strange, it felt chemical. 

“Jisung, what do you know about resurrecting Hyunjin?” Felix asks.  “I have the spell to access Edith’s remains but once we get them…then what? I hit a dead end in my research.” 

Jisung’s brow wrinkles as he lightly bites his inner lip, thinking over the question.  He slowly flips through the bloody pages of the grimoire, running his hands across it, feeling its power. 

“She linked herself to Hyunjin in purgatory…if you need her remains to bring him back, she probably did that as insurance…” Jisung’s voice trails off as his expression grows worrisome. 

“Meaning if we bring him back, we bring her back too…” Felix finishes the thought, coming to the realization as well. 

“Shit.” Chan mutters. 

“Ok, then we do an unlinking charm once we get her remains.” You find the obvious answer and say it aloud.  Everyone at the table looks at you in disbelief. 

Everyone except for Jisung. 

He pulls the chair out and turns it around, sitting straddled on it, his arms resting atop the back.  “Unlinking a witch like Edith though…that’s not your average unlinking spell.  This grimoire belonged to her.  You’ll need a sacrifice, a human sacrifice.” he explains. 

“Human sacrifice? I’ll procure one, no problem–” Felix stands up at once. 

Jisung points to the script in the book. “Not just any human, Felix; It has to be a witch from her bloodline.” 

A heavy silence falls over the room. 

You feel weak.  Saliva builds in your mouth as you become nauseated.  “I have to die.” 

“Absolutely not, there has to be another way.” Chan says immediately, leaning forward on the table. 

“I knew this was going to happen…” Felix stands up and walks away.  He’s stressed.  He runs his hands through his hair.  “I knew it was too good to be true.” 

“Edith made it this way on purpose.  Maybe she visited a Seer and knew you’d meet the little witch.  She knew it was going to come to this, somehow, she set this up.” Jisung shakes his head with a sigh. 

“This is why I don’t fall in love.  Love is weakness, it’s a vulnerability that makes the goal murky every-single-time.  Look now brother, how history is repeating itself once more.” Felix’s voice is a little shaky, was he…afraid?  

Chan’s fists tighten.  “We don’t unlink them then.  We bring both of them back and kill her.” 

“That’s suicide Chan.” Jisung hesitantly comments.  “She has the capability of being reborn and won’t rest until she’s killed all of you.  Edith has to be trapped.  We have to find a way to bring Hyunjin back by himself, if you don’t, you’ll be in a far worse situation than her being trapped with him right now.” 

“Then we’ll figure it out after we get her remains.” Chan’s hand clasps over yours as he talks to Jisung, and you realize you’ve been quiet this whole time, almost phasing out their voices as you felt the overwhelming emotion in the room to maximum capacity. His touch brings a sense of protective calm over you. He must’ve been able to sense your discomfort.   

“Let's just focus on getting out of this alive.” 

Things were mapped out and thought through with all points considered thoroughly.  Jisung had frozen blood in storage that he thawed for his undead company prior to their arrival.  The air is filled with a quiet buzz.  Nobody speaks to one another.  Chan quietly and slowly paces back and forth in front of the altar. 

Felix feeds from his fourth blood bag as he and Jisung go through the texts at the table, still seeking a loophole for the unlinking spell.   

Chan pauses, his hands behind his back.  He looks at the framed photos decorated on the altar.  He sees the offerings, the candles, the various jars and bits and bobs he couldn’t identify.  Mortal spirituality always both intrigued and perplexed him.  Discussions on such always fell short once someone would find out what he was.  His existence proved greater forces were at work, but also proved just how little we knew about what those forces were capable of. 

“If I pray to my ancestors or something here, will that help us tonight?” Chan asks. 

Jisung looks at him for a moment and smiles.  “It definitely wouldn’t hurt, here, let me show you how to make an offering.” he stands up from the chair, walking over to Chan as they begin talking in hushed voices to one another. 

You’ve been sitting in the wingback chair in the opposite side of the room, sky watching once more.  Disassociating, in a trance like state to a place that feels better than right here, right now. 

Felix approaches you.  You don’t look up at him. 

“I think you don’t fall in love because you won’t let yourself.” You say aloud.  You partially meant to just think it and not say it, but you partially didn’t care that it was out there now.  Felix doesn’t respond.  This prompts you further. 

“You’re afraid you can’t control what you are from destroying everything you love.  So, you don’t even try.” 

“It's like sentencing someone to death…they just don’t know when it’ll happen.” Felix’s voice trails off, hand in his pocket as he looks down at the side of your face.  Your gaze locked on the moon in the sky. 

“So, what happens when you can’t run away from it anymore?” 

“Love? Or who I am?” 

“Both.” 

Silence. 

“I suppose I’ll face it like I’ve done to all of my demons.” Brown eyes watch the glimmer of the river below.  “I don’t have a history of surrender.” 

More silence. 

“If it comes down to sacrificing me for Hyunjin, Felix…” You finally look up at him, both of your eyes meeting for the first time during the entire conversation. 

“Kill me.” Your voice is barely audible, a breathy whisper.  You can feel a tear running down your cheek.  With a sniff, you quickly wipe it away.  “Don’t tell Chan.” 

“Little witch–” 

“Promise me Felix.” 

He hesitates, about to say one thing, but deciding on another. 

“I promise, little witch, that you won’t have to die for the sake of my brother….” 

He pushes a curl behind your ear. 

“That’s what I promise.” 

-------------------------

next part -> click here

[philosophicalconservatism]

Response To Post On Misgendering.

Unstuckincanon

I am genuinely curious about how far this goes for you in situations where the birth gender of the person you're interacting with is unclear.

Like, if I were at a party and saw someone across the room who I thought was a man at first, but then someone else corrects me, saying, "no, that's actually a very butch woman," would you insist that should I continue to refer to that person as a man? (at this point, I personally would switch to she/her pronouns.)

What if I end up making small talk with that person and they tell me (either straightforwardly or implied) that they are a woman, even though they still don't completely fit my idea of a woman, should I then still continue to refer to them as a man? What if the other people at the party refer to that person as a woman? How much is my impression of that person's gender affected by how other people perceive and react to them? What "proof" is it reasonable for me to expect someone else to provide to "prove" their "true gender" to me before I alter my language?

I recognize that I'm asking a lot of questions, and maybe not all of them are is as good a faith as I intend. I'm pretty well convinced that gender is a matter of social constructivism rather than essentialism, so I'm curious to know how gender essentialists make sense of ambiguity in matters of gender. I just can't wrap my head around WHY it's so important to some people that gender be a static, unchanging thing. 

Philosophicalconservatism.com

Thanks for the question. I missed it when it was first posted (as is often the case). Now your question is : why is it so important that gender be a static unchanging thing? Well the problem with that question is that it hinges on a word that we probably don't understand in the same way.

It was only during the 20th century that the relatively unassuming English word "gender" was reinvented by certain parties on the cultural Left for ideological purposes. I do not subscribe to these ideologies, and so my understanding of the word "gender" conforms to what it meant for all of human history prior to the arrival of these new doctrines. Let me break it down all the way if you'll bare with me.

Certain living organisms reproduce sexually. The mechanics of the sexual method of reproduction itself creates a binary; the binary of male and female. Within mammal species, individual members of the species belong to either the male sex or the female sex; except in the case of rare genetic errors [disorders] where sex is ambiguous. These disorders do not create a new sex, because they do not create a new role in the reproductive process. There are only two roles within the process of sexual reproduction and therefore sex remains a binary.

Now our languages give names to the male and female members of various animal species: chicken (rooster and hen), deer (doe and buck) pig (boar and sow). A human male is a man, and a human female is a woman. The actual difference between the words "female" and "woman" is that one is a reference to living organisms in general, and the other is a reference to human beings in particular. All of this now brings us to the notion of gender. The original meaning of the word "gender" is: Of or pertaining to one of the two [human] sexes.

Gender refers to the various things that are associated with either of the two sexes. People have a sex, things have a gender. Clothing can have a gender, toys can have a gender, hairstyles may have a gender, personality traits may have a gender, and most commonly articles of grammar have a gender. And again, what we mean when we say that they have a gender is that they are associated with one of the two human sexes. The only exception to the rule I described above (concerning things and people) was the traditional medical use of the term ,"gender" on birth certificates to refer to actual people. But in that context gender is literally synonymous with the word sex. The word "gender" was never used to refer to human beings themselves ( in a manner distinct from the word "sex") until the rise of modern Gender Ideology.

So in answer to your question, I would not be attempting to determine this person's "gender" (as that word is often used today) I would refer to them based upon what I could surmise of their biological sex. The pronouns "he" and "she" are replacements for "man" and "woman" ("boy" and "girl") and those words, as I've explained, refer to biological sex within the human species. I might not trust my visual impression entirely, I would make a reasonable inference based on that and all of the evidence available as human beings generally do when faced with any kind of ambiguity. But in my experience (and I am a New Yorker) making these kinds of judgements is most often not difficult. If the person were actually present before me in conversation with others I would refer to them by their given or chosen name, not by any pronoun.

[nugnthopkns]

i wish i could disappear

word count: 3.6k

warnings: explicit!fem reader, cursing, feelings of anxiety due to social media harassment, invasion of privacy that border on stalking

recommended listening: brutal | olivia rodrigo

series masterpost: here

a/n: and we're off to the races!! i love this album and olivia so much. there's a shoutout to goon by tobias jesso jr. in here bc it's my favourite album to cry to lmao (highly recommend giving it a listen!). i'm on the fence about this one but am posting it anyways because i don't think i can make it any better

How the fuck do people find your social media?

All of your accounts are private and Kevin makes sure to never tag you on the rare occasion he posts a picture of the two of you together. The wives and girlfriends who have public accounts make sure to never post about you, and you’re careful not to comment on posts often. You’re a private person and though you understand that due to the nature of your relationship with Kevin you intrigue some fans, you don’t want to give them more than you have to.

Despite making no attempt to open up to the public or media, every day you wake up with hundreds of follow requests from complete strangers. At first it was a little exciting knowing that people were curious about your life but after years of the same routine it’s become draining. It takes you nearly twenty minutes each day to weed through them and accept only the people you know personally. Kevin doesn’t actually know how many people want to catch a glimpse of your daily life because you do your best to keep it from him. Knowing would only bring him stress, and you want him to be able to focus on winning games and loving you with his entire heart.

☼☼☼☼

The phone on your desk rings loudly, pulling your attention away from the computer screen that has way too many numbers on it for your liking. The finance department needed someone to proof their audit before sending it away and since you’re the only one in human relations that has a business degree the job landed on your shoulders. Eager to take a break, you pick it up and press the receiver against your ear.

“Hello?”

The voice on the other side laughs gently, but you immediately know it’s Kevin. “Hi sweetheart,” he says warmly, “How’s work?”

“Fine I guess. It’s work, Kev. Nothing terribly exciting happens here,” you explain but continue to fill him in on all the coffee pot gossip you got this morning. Kevin listens as you complain about forgetting your lunch on the counter and chuckles at how upset the situation makes you.

“What if I told you I’m outside your window with a burrito bowl?”

Excited at the possibility of seeing your boyfriend before dinnertime, you whip towards the window and spot Kevin on the sidewalk, waving like an idiot despite knowing your office is on the fifth floor. You hang up quickly after telling him you’ll be down in two minutes and let the receptionist know you’re stepping out for lunch. There’s a line for the elevator so you head to the stairwell, taking them two at a time in your haste. You’re crossing the street to the small park where Kevin has set up a picnic before your co-workers are even out the door.

You plop down on the blanket beside Kevin and lean into him. He presses a sweet kiss to your forehead before passing you the food he brought. You take a bite, sighing at the taste. Kevin knows you better than you know yourself and knew exactly what to get that would satisfy your mounting hunger.

“Thanks babe,” you smile, holding up your fork and offering him a bite. He takes it graciously but makes a face. “What’s the matter?” you laugh as you take the utensil back.

“I fucking hate avocado.”

The two of you eat in relative silence, speaking only when you remember a detail from your morning. Kevin tells you about the drills he’s going to lead at practice in the afternoon and what he plans on cooking for dinner since he’ll be home before you. You insist you can whip something up when you get home but Kevin shakes his head. He reminds you that relationships are give and take, and that you’ve made dinner the past three nights because he had a string of games. You manage to reach a compromise that has you doing the dishes before you have to return to work.

Kevin insists on walking you back to your office even though you protest vehemently. Your relationship is far from secret, and has been the topic of workplace gossip more times than you can count, but after five years you’ve learned to ignore most of it. However, you don’t want your co-workers to think you flaunt your NHL player boyfriend to prove you’re better than them. They all love Kevin, and a couple of them congratulate him on last night’s goal as he follows you down the hall. A few of the newer hires stare in awe and shake his hand, completely blown away that one of Philadelphia’s biggest stars is asking how they like their jobs.

“Pretty soon they’re going to approach you to do PR for us,” you chuckle as you flip the light on and close the door of your office.

His laughter echoes off the walls as a pair of strong arms find a home around your waist. “It would be kind of fun to hear myself crush those radio commercials.”

“Since when do you listen to the radio?”

“Checkmate,” Kevin sighs, pulling you closer. He kisses you quickly, not wanting to give a show to anyone who could be walking past, but it still sends you reeling. You don’t want him to pull away and kiss him again.

You get your way for a few more moments and then Kevin’s leaving with a promise to not burn the house down and wishes for a good rest of the day. Focussed on giving the audit its final once-over you don’t bother pulling your phone from the drawer you had placed it in when you got to work that morning. You turn up the small radio at the corner of your desk and get to work scanning the document for errors. There’s a mistake halfway through that skews the rest of the data and fixing it takes a bit of time, but it isn’t a huge deal. You have nothing else to do except answer a few emails and organize meetings for after the weekend.

An hour or so later you’ve completed all your tasks and debate what to do. It’s too early to leave for the day, so you decide to kill time by checking your phone. You’re expecting a few notifications, perhaps two or three memes in the group chat you share with your friends, but not the hundreds that greet you.

The majority of them are instagram notifications, and assuming they’re just more fans requesting a follow you ignore them, instead heading to your text messages. There’s a picture from Kevin of a dog he found walking home and another from your mom asking why you haven’t called home in a few weeks. However the one from Claude’s wife is the one that piques your curiosity.

Just a heads up that someone posted a pic of you and Kev to one of those stupid wag pages. I filed a request for Instagram to take it down but it’s gotten a lot of traction. Sorry :((

Your heartbeat increases rapidly and a million thoughts fly through your head at a rapid speed. Fingers shaking, you respond with a thanks and open up the dreaded app. You don’t see it immediately, your feed being full of photos belonging to friends and family, but it’s in your messages almost two hundred times. Many of them have text attached and you know there will be a comment about your relationship regardless of which one you open.

Tapping on the most recent message you brace yourself for the worst. The new window opens a photo someone took of you and Kevin while eating lunch in the park across from your office not even three hours prior. It’s grainy and the camera angle is strange, but you’re eating and Kevin is looking somewhere out of frame. The accompanying caption reads Kev and his girlfriend out for lunch today! Follow @philllywagupdates for more :).

You let out a sigh of relief – it could have been a lot worse. Personal pictures of yourself have made it onto pages like that before and most of them they’re paired with mean-spirited captions about your appearance or other trivial matters. Assuming you’re in the clear, you head back to the page of the original message to thank the person for bringing the post to your attention. However, the message accompanying the post is anything but positive.

He can’t even fucking look at you. It’s only a matter of time before he leaves you

The blood in your veins runs cold. You know it’s not true – Kevin’s made it clear you’re the one and truthfully you’re just waiting for a ring – but it doesn’t stop the sting you feel. What could possess someone to say such horrible things? You decide not to respond despite, possibly opening another can of worms with the seen function, and close the app. Leaning back in your office chair you focus on anything but your phone, looking out the window at passersby while regaining your breath. It works for a while, but eventually not knowing what others said eats away at you. You go through every single message to see hundreds of similar comments to the first, with only a few saying they’re glad you’re happy or how posting the picture is a violation of your privacy.

By the time you’re finished your spirit has been crushed. However, it’s also an acceptable time to start the weekend – at least no one in the office will have to see you cry. Things are hastily packed into your bag and you wave a few quick goodbyes before once again taking the stairs. You curse yourself for deciding to walk to work that morning and set off in the direction of home wiping away tears. The last thing you need right now is for someone to recognize you, but you have to get home. Tobias Jesso Jr plays at much too loud a volume through your headphones and Kevin will most certainly remind you it’s bad for your hearing, but the melancholy piano riffs of Goon overpower the thoughts swirling around your head.

Do people really feel that way about me?

Are my friends just too nice to stop inviting me places?

Does Kevin really feel trapped?

Hundreds of similar sentiments and situations cross your mind as you stumble through the streets of downtown Philadelphia, but you force them as far back as possible before opening the door to the apartment you share with Kevin. Hoping to slip inside undetected, you take your shoes off slowly and throw your jacket on the end table instead of hanging it in the closet. Your plan fails somehow and Kevin hears you, greeting you in a goofy apron covered in flour.

“Hey sweetheart,” he smiles, but it drops once your eyes meet and he sees the hurt on your face. “What’s the matter?”

“It’s nothing,” you insist, trying to step around him in pursuit of the bathroom.

Kevin doesn’t buy it and sees right through your feeble words. “It’s not nothing if you’re this upset. If you don’t want to talk now that’s fine, but I think you should get it off your chest.”

You know he’s right, but you also know you can’t tell him the true cause of your despair. “Just some work stuff,” you sigh. “The audit got all fucked up and I had to fix it even though it’s not my job.”

It’s not technically a lie, which makes you feel better, and Kevin buys it. He presses a sweet kiss to your lips in sympathy. “Go take a shower and the gnocchi should be ready by the time you’re done. We can spend the night cuddling on the couch.”

“And watching Selling Sunset?”

“We can watch whatever you want sweetheart,” he chuckles. You part from him with a final kiss and head to the bathroom. Hopefully the steam from the water will carry away the negativity brought on by that damn post.

☼☼☼☼

Time passes but the hateful comments on social media don’t stop. In fact, you’re pretty sure they get worse. It’s so bad that you’ve deleted every app except facebook because you need it for work. Kevin doesn’t notice your abstinence from social media, but he picks up on how you spend more time criticizing yourself or staring off into space. When he pushes you either brush him off or feed some bullshit excuse about how work is getting you down. You know he doesn’t believe you but trusts you enough to come to him when you’re ready to talk.

You aren’t sure if you’ll ever be able to tell Kevin what’s been going on. There’s been scrutiny from social media before, when you first started dating, but it quieted down after the initial media frenzy. He helped you through that but it’s different this time around. Never before have you had strangers tell you your life is worthless or that your boyfriend should end your relationship. Some of the other wags notice your absence on instagram but chalk it up to you just taking a break. They reach out via the group chat and send wishes to see you at the next home game. It’s nice to know they care, but the voice in your head that has grown much larger in recent weeks tells you they don’t truly mean it. This leads you to decline the invite as politely as possible, citing extended work hours for your absence. In reality you’re too anxious to be anywhere that isn’t home or work, petrified someone is going to post something that will add fuel to the flames of those who interrogate you.

It’s another Friday afternoon, and you’re leaving the office early once again. There’s a small craft exhibition taking place around the corner from work and today is the last day it’s open. You had been meaning to go all week, hoping to find something small to add to Kevin’s birthday gift. As you step out of the building there’s a small group of young women, who don’t look old enough to have graduated college, standing off to the side. It fills you with dread, worried that somehow someone found out where you work and the insults are going to start occurring verbally, but you force yourself to be rational. You work fairly close to one of the artsier districts in the city and it’s more than likely they just want to find a cute mural to take pictures in front of.

You pass by and swear you hear them snicker, but you remind yourself you’ve just been jumpy lately. When they peel from their place on the wall and follow behind at a distance you think the coincidences are running out. It seems a little too strange how their movements line up with yours, and you go down a few winding side streets in an attempt to lose them. Part of you feels ridiculous because what group of barely legal girls would track a full-blown adult around a city of nearly two million people, but your life is currently strange enough you can’t be sure. They don’t follow you, and by the time you reach the market your heart rate has returned to normal.

The first few stalls have little to catch your eye, but a few rows in you find a leatherworker who makes adorable wallets. Kevin’s is ridiculously old and falling apart at the seams – his mom bought it for him before the two of you got together. You think a new one will make a perfect addition to the concert tickets you already bought and browse the table for something simple and elegant. A deep brown one with tan braiding around the edges catches your eye and you know it’s the one for Kevin. Checking the price to make sure you have enough cash in your wallet, you approach the shop owner to purchase. The older man has a kind smile that reaches his eyes as he thanks you for purchasing from him.

“No, thank you for making something so beautiful!” you gush. “My boyfriend is going to love it.”

It’s then you hear it – snickering accompanied by the click of a camera. You look over your shoulder to see the same group of girls from before laughing as they huddle over a cell phone, no doubt already starting to broadcast the photo across the internet. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes but you refuse to let them fall. Those girls don’t deserve to see their mission accomplished, but the longer they laugh at you the harder it is to swallow your feelings.

Head held high, you thank the owner one more time before holding your head high and walking past the group. The only way out is past them so you hold your breath and pray they don’t notice you. Unfortunately you aren’t that lucky, and one of them looks up just as you come into earshot.

“If Kevin doesn’t leave you after that sorry excuse for a gift I don’t know what’s wrong with him,” she sneers.

Another one chimes in, “You’re honestly so pathetic.” They all cackle in amusement, and you speed up. The tears flow freely now, and you call an uber even though it will be a ridiculous amount of money. You just want to get home.

The uber driver doesn’t say anything when you get in, though you know it’s strange to be bawling your eyes out at four in the afternoon. You can’t help it – weeks of keeping all the hate to yourself finally got to you and being followed with the sole intent of ridicule is the final straw. At one red light he silently passes you a box of tissues, which you accept gratefully.

Luckily the lobby of your apartment complex is empty and you manage to get to your floor without encountering a familiar face. There’s a few hours until Kevin gets home from his final roadtrip of the season, and if you play your cards right you can get all the tears out and be as normal as possible before he comes through the door. You don’t even bother to put anything away, just head straight to the bathroom to slump against the tub. Sobs rack your body and you lose all sense of time. All you can feel is the hurt you’ve been holding in releasing itself and soaking the material of your blouse.

Kevin finds you laying in the position hours later. He tripped over your shoes coming in the door and immediately knew something was wrong – you always place them neatly on the rack in the closet upon arriving home. Peering through the quiet house for a hint at where you are, he sees the bathroom light on and makes a beeline for the room. It breaks his heart to see you like this, and even more so because he doesn’t know what spurred it on.

“Sweetheart, hey,” he coos, maneuvering his body to sit beside you and pull you into his lap. “What’s the matter?”

You bury your head in his shoulder and clutch the material of his dress shirt as you cry harder at the sound of his voice. Kevin takes your reaction in stride, rubbing circles on your back and working on evening out your breath. He doesn’t pressure you to speak and provides the stability you desperately crave as the world around you spins. An unknown amount of time passes before your tears run out, but spend it all on the bathroom floor curled into Kevin.

“I guess I should have told you sooner,” you mumble, “But I didn’t want to bother you.”

Concern laces Kevin’s features and his eyebrows knit together. “Tell me what?”

“I, uh, have been the subject of some internet hate for the past little bit,” you say sheepishly. It feels stupid to not have told him now, but you can’t change that. “But you were really busy with the season and I wanted to make sure your head was completely focused on the game so I just dealt with it myself. I deleted the apps and tried my best to go about my life. And then today after work I was followed by some people and they said some really hurtful stuff and shit became a little too real.”

“I’m so fucking sorry.”

It’s your turn to be confused. “Why are you sorry Kev? You're Not the one sending me death threats.”

He tucks a loose strand of hair back into your ponytail. “Maybe not, but I still made you feel like you couldn’t talk to me about what was going on. What kind of partner am I?”

“The best one,” you say confidently. “It’s okay, I’m okay. I just want to forget about it right now. Can we just disappear for a little bit?”

Kevin wraps his arms around you tighter, as if he can engulf you to protect from the cruel outside world. “We can do whatever you want. If you want to get out of the city for a bit if you want, or just spend the next few days here away from prying eyes.”

“I love you.”

You say it because you mean it, and if you could scream it from the rooftops you would. Kevin is incredibly easy to love, even when you make it difficult for him to love you back. You know another much longer conversation is coming about everything that has happened recently because communication is the only way to solve problems and Kevin deserves that, but you’re thankful he’s willing to put it to rest for a few more moments.

He cracks a smile for the first time since he’s been home and kisses the crown of your head. “I love you too sweetheart,” he whispers, “Always and forever.”

Things are far from over and though you still never want to show your face in public ever again, you know that Kevin is going to do whatever he can to make things better and that’s enough for you.

☼☼☼☼

taglist: @ricohenrique @tortito @boqvistsbabe @iwantahockeyhimbo @himbos-on-ice @2manytabsopen if you want to be added just shoot me an ask :)

[hesgunnalovethis]

Not That Bad

Leonard McCoy x Reader

Summary: You have the severity of your injuries in a twist sending Leonard McCoy’s blood pressure through the roof

TW: injury descriptions and strong language 

ft. bestie Jim Kirk <333

Masterlist!

Word Count: 1737

“Yes. No. I understand Mr Spock. Cuttings on your desk in 40 minutes. Got it.” You closed your comm and checked your watch. 

 You’d spent 16 hours Planetside and after a complication that had landed most crew in the MedBay, you agreed to help out botany to complete the mission report. Really you didn’t have a clue what you were doing but you concluded it couldn’t be that hard. 

 Cross referencing the plants in front of you to the list on your PADD, you picked up the plier looking utensil and began clipping the stems from the root. 

 “Maybe I should transfer to science.” You muttered to yourself after you’d successfully pressed the first few cuttings into their sample bags. 

Taking the next stem between your fingers you picked up the pliers and cut through the green and your fingertip, simultaneously. Blood shot upwards from your finger. You scoffed at the inconvenience. 

 You grabbed the first aid kit and examined the content that your Chief Medical Officer boyfriend had once talked you through and began to wish you’d listened. 

 Failing to remember anything, you wrapped a plaster around the top of your finger and watched it turn from white to red almost immediately. You tried layering another on top which bled through just as fast. After a failed third layer you took yourself from the lab and started towards the MedBay. 

 You stopped for a moment scouring your brain for which corridors to take. It had been so long since you’d actually journeyed to the MedBay by choice. You’d been utilising your doctor shared quarters. 

 Arriving at the desk you checked your watch again. 20 minutes before Spock was expecting you. You began to panic and turned to the receptionist. 

 “Could you ask Doctor McCoy to see me? It’s pretty urgent.” You said, grabbing a bundle of tissues from the display to contain the droplets falling from your finger. 

 The receptionist did as you asked and you heard Leonard through the comm.

 “On the bridge?” He asked. 

 “No, Sir. Here in the MedBay.” The receptionist in front of you responded. 

 “In the Med-“ You heard a fuss beginning through the comm and then a room number you were to be assigned. 

 No sooner had you arrived, a half scrubbed in Leonard burst through the door desperately searching for what heinous emergency had beckoned you to his MedBay. 

 “Are you being serious right now!?” Leonard asked ripping off the last of his scrub uniform. 

 “Always good to see you too, Lee.” You responded, smiling. 

 Sighing softly he shot you an apologetic look and planted a kiss on your cheek. 

 “Hi, darlin’” He whispered letting down his doctor guard and allowing his southern drawl back in. He began to look you over again, “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” 

 You lifted your hand removing the tissue to reveal your slightly bloodied finger. Leonard took a step back rubbing his temples. 

 “Y/N, darlin’. PUT A PLASTER ON IT?!”

 “I tried that! It keeps bleeding though!” You whined. 

 “There are people DYING in here, Y/N.” 

 “Oh go on, please. I have lab work due in 15 minutes and I can’t work with this bleeding all over the samples!” 

 Leonard sighed and moved to the other side of the room to collect the dermal regenerator. Taking your hand in his he kissed the cut before placing it under the machine.

 He caught your eyes with his. “I left a 6 hour surgery for this.” 

 - 

 The next day you took your healed finger with you on your next mission where your team successfully released several hostages and transported their authoritative grasp to Enterprise Security.  

 “All clear, Jim.” You said to your comm after clearing the last room on your final check. 

 “Received. Take the turbolift to the bridge and let’s get out of here.” 

 Stepping into the foreign tube you found it very similar to Starfleet’s and got it moving towards the bridge. You began to hear Jim’s voice on the other side before the lift stumbled to a halt. 

 “Um, Jim?” You shouted through the metal. 

 “Great.” Jim said clocking the flashing error sign on the lift. “Don’t worry Lieutenant. We’ll... pry it open.” 

 “Full proof.” You said to yourself, getting ready to pull from your side. 

 After a brief plan outline and a countdown you began to pull. A small gap opened to the side and you managed to squeeze your body through before the door clattered closed on your newly regenerated finger. 

 “Again?! Why is it always you?” You asked your finger, pulling it from the metals grip and eying the purple residue left on it. 

 “Me?” Jim asked, doubled over from the effort he’d just exerted, before being distracted by his comm, “Bones! Yes, just calling to let you know of the ZERO injuries incoming to the MedBay!”

 “Zero injuries?” You cut him off. “This is a broken bone for sure.” 

 “Oh my god.” Jim said in disgust looking at the weird purple oil all over the metal, your finger and subsequently his uniform. “Why is it that colour?!” 

 “Dammit, Jim.” You heard through the comm before Leonard hung up and Jim reconnected to the transporter room. 

 You arrived back on the transporter pad to Leonard’s eyes burning a hole in you and pinching the bridge of his nose. 

 “Broken bone?” He said walking towards you.

 “This bastard finger.” You said and Leonard took your wrist to examine it.  

 “THIS-“ He stopped abruptly and calmed himself. “This is a finger, Y/N. BARELY a bone.” He examined it further, “I’m not even convinced that’s broken?” 

 “Tell you what though, it really fucking hurts.” You petted your lip at him. 

 Slipping an arm around your waist he led you out of the transporter room and towards the MedBay. “Let’s get you patched up sweetheart, but we really have to talk about your hyperbole.” 

 -

 It was a few days before you were due to arrive at your next destination and Jim had roped you into helping with his ensign combat training. 

 “It’s basically target practice.” Jim said in conclusion to a confused looking group of redshirts. “The phasers I’ve given you won’t shoot, but will read on the side if you’ve hit your target. It’s like laser tag! You’ve all played laser tag, right?” The room was silent. “And that’s another added to the list of shore leave activities.” 

 “Captain Kirk and I will be over here as moving targets.” You started, taking over from Jim. “Try and shoot me without hitting the Captain. Got it?” 

 You and Jim moved over to the course beginning the same choreographed fight you’d been using for years. You heard the pathetic fake phaser shots over and over and were beginning to question almost all of your life choices as a deafening shot fired and struck your side. 

 “Y/N!” Jim fell to your side, “PHASERS DOWN!” He shouted to the group briefly trying to determine which one hadn’t followed his only instruction ‘Do not bring your own phaser.’ 

 There was a small commotion before you heard Jim’s voice again. “Kirk to MedBay I need a team to training room 1 immediately.” 

 You found yourself back in the same biobed you’d frequented for past 3 days consecutively and tried to keep up with the nurses’ quick conversations. 

 “Someone page McCoy now.” You heard one of them say. 

 “Not Leonard-“ You interrupted, “He’ll jus- is there anyone else?”

 “Not anyone who could patch you up like Doctor McCoy.” One of the nurses stated opening their comm. “Doctor McCoy to room 6. On the double. It’s-“ 

 “Lieutenant Y/L/N?” Leonard cut off the nurse. 

 “Yes.” She replied. 

 “For once I’m not even surprised.” 

 The nurses continued fussing around you and your biobed beeps became angrier. 

 You watched the door open and Leonard’s face turn from passiveness to urgency in a millisecond. 

 “My god!” He shouted, dropping his board and beginning to order nurses to different machines connected to your bed. 

 “Listen, Leonard it’s not THAT bad.” 

 “NOT THAT BAD?! YOU’VE BEEN SHOT?!”  Leonard flicked his eyes between you and your vitals. 

 “Yeah, but, shot in a controlled environment.” 

 “You’ve been in here with a cut and a stave, guns blazing, and now you’ve been shot it’s ‘NOT THAT BAD?!’” 

 “Granted this doesn’t look-“ You were cut off by a wave of pain that sent you wincing. 

 “Hell.” Leonard turned to his own station briefly. “You’re not gonna like this sweetheart but you can tell me all about it when you’re back in one piece.” Leonard planted a kiss on your head and a hypo in your neck, sending you into sleep. 

-

Coming back to, you heard your biobed beeping at a normal rhythm and a strong accent beside you. 

 “I don’t care what his test scores are, he shot a Lieutenant I want him gone.” 

 “Leonard.” You scolded. 

 “Darlin’” He moved to you instantly closing his comm without a word. “How are you feeling?”

 “I’m fine. Sore neck.” You said rubbing where he’d hypo’d you. His eyes were still racked with worry. “It was an accident. That’s why we train them we-“ 

 “Darlin’ if he isn’t removed from this ship the only accident will be me prescribing him with cyanid capsules instead of his iron tablets.” He looked over your vitals again before picking up his clipboard, “But you let me worry about that. You can worry about this.” He handed you a laminated sheet entitled ‘Doctor McCoy’s Guide to a Serious Injury.’ 

 You shot him an annoyed look. 

 “Just so there’s no more confusion.” He winked at you. You glanced over the ‘Serious Injury: To Be Reported’ column. 

 “I hardly think ‘A sudden cough’ is a serious injury, Leonard.” You scoffed. 

 “Oh sure. Let’s just let your DNA de-evolve into non humane codes exterminating crucial pairings.” 

 “Noted.” You said admiring the doctor’s bedside manner, “Is there a second page?” You said spotting another sheet in his hand. 

 “No. This is Jim’s copy.” Leonard replied. 

 “Of course.” 

 Leonard brushed your hair behind your ears and smoothed your forehead. “I’m glad you’re finally visiting the MedBay doll, but I would prefer if you kept your trips to mandatory immunisations and essential check-ups.” 

 “I wouldn’t hold your breath, Doctor.” You said brushing your lips against his. 

“And somehow I still wouldn’t change you for the world.” Leonard said quietly before closing the space left between you.

[fakecrfan]

Do you think Basira and Daisy had a healthy relationship?

I am so glad you asked! I have had a lot of thoughts about their relationship, but had decided to shelve those thoughts because I was worried it would come off as me telling people to not ship Daisira, which is... not what I want to be doing. But you sent me an Ask and so I am compelled to answer!

My answer is: no. Their relationship is toxic in one of the most interesting ways I have seen portrayed in media.

This might be a bit confusing to hear, though. Normally when we call a relationship toxic, it means that one or both of the people involved are making each other feel bad. But Daisy and Basira seem to make each other feel... good. Basira is apparently Daisy’s last human attachment, and according to Elias in MAG 92, and “not being able to see Basira again” is one of Daisy’s biggest laments in the coffin. And on Basira’s end, Daisy seems to make Basira feel... secure. Supported.

From MAG 117:

BASIRA

But at least Daisy’s coming. I mean, I know she’s… difficult. Everything they say about her, it’s true, it’s fair. But, she’s solid. She’s a… a fixed point, and if she’s there, I know exactly where I stand, exactly what I’m doing, relative to her.

From MAG 178:

MARTIN

We’re here for you.

BASIRA

No. She was there for me.

So, “attachment to humanity” “support” and “security” are good things in a relationship, right? Their love for each other (whether you read it as completely platonic or not) seems genuine, and they put each other first. That should mean that their relationship is Good!

Wellllllll no. Sometimes, a relationship can feel good while also... trapping you in a harmful cycle, or stunting your growth as a person. Think: a friend who is charming and fun who you love to drink with--to the extent that, even when you’re trying to manage an alcohol addiction, you end up going into situations with them that trigger your urge to drink. Also think: a friend who keeps bringing you sugary food even after you’ve been diagnosed with serious diabetes with potential life-altering complications--because you like donuts, they used to make you so happy.

Daisy and Basira are that to each other. In particular--Basira’s attachment to Daisy draws Basira back into dangerous situations and, by extension, causes her fall deep into that “siege mentality” that shuts down Basira’s more thoughtful side. 

When Jon confronts Basira about Daisy’s crimes in MAG 178, this exchange occurs.

MARTIN

[Loudly] Enough. Enough! Someone has died! Show some respect. Or don’t you care?

BASIRA

[Incensed] Of course I fucking care!

…

[Quieter] That’s the problem.

MARTIN

I… I don’t understand.

BASIRA

I just… I don’t need him laying everything out for me like I’m some kind of idiot. I know, all right.

I don’t think Basira is making anything up here to make herself seem better. Basira already knew there was a problem with the police, before Jon confronted her. She already knew Daisy was corrupt to some extent, even if she had trouble facing it head on. And--she already cared.

That’s why she quit. She didn’t need a revelation from Jon or anyone else to open her eyes. She didn’t even need to see harm happen to an innocent bystander. Instead, she saw how the higher ups were covering up the killing of Maxwell Raynor, of all people--

BASIRA

They’ve given us a few days ‘compassionate leave’. I think they just want us out of the way while they figure out the official version of what happened.

--and she quit after that. 

So, here we already have someone who is coming into an understanding of the police as a flawed system without anyone needing to tell her. Here we have someone who is already extricating herself from that system, because she cares about her impact on other people. From this point, she could easily have gone her own way, taken time to reflect and never hurt anyone again.

So what brings her back into the whole mess in MAG 88?

BASIRA

I’m looking for Daisy.

MARTIN

Oh for – Okay, I don’t know where she is! I don’t know where anybody is! Why does everyone… okay, why does everyone think that I always know where everyone is, all the time?!

BASIRA

Alright, okay, alright, sorry. They just… well, they said at the station that this was the last place she checked in.

--Her relationship with Daisy, of course!

She wants to leave the supernatural and the police behind. She tells Jon the Institute is bad (MAG 73) but she walks back in because she’s worried about Daisy. And then she throws herself right back in the fray to stop Daisy from killing Jon. Shortly after that, Basira has to sign herself off as a hostage to Elias…

ELIAS

She’s quite the killer, your partner. All in the public good, of course. And she was correct, I spent some time acquiring that evidence. Or creating it. And while your superiors don’t much care about the killings, the fact there is proof… They’re not happy. And they want you brought in.

--because of Daisy’s murders, Daisy’s reckless actions giving Elias leverage. Basira throws herself in with Daisy, and it draws Basira right back into a world of violence and the paranormal that she was trying to quit. It motivates her to, once again, cover for Daisy’s errors and justify them. This takes away any chance Basira could have had to gain distance from the violence, reflect, and get some perspective. Instead, she’s thrown right back into the siege. 

Basira doesn’t even show any sign of frustration with Daisy at this. It’s not that Basira is 100% meek. We see her get frustrated with people later, express grievances, and hold people accountable later--but with Daisy she doesn’t do any of this. Instead, she immediately re-affirms that she’s on Daisy’s side.

BASIRA

Daisy, it’s… it’s okay. We’ll figure something out.

Of course, it’s not a one-way street, either. It’s not an uncomplicated “Basira good, Daisy toxic and bad” story. It’s a mutually reinforcing cycle where they are both complicit. We see that in season 4, when Daisy tries to stop feeding the hunt.

People like to rag on Basira for her actions in this season but... her actions are actually also more complicated than a simple story of “Basira sabotages Daisy’s progress.” Because Basira misses the more resolute Daisy, yes, and wishes she had a strong protector instead of another person to help... but even with that, she’s still willing to support Daisy’s progress away from the Hunt!

In MAG 133:

ARCHIVIST

You’re not happy she’s back.

BASIRA

I didn’t say that, John. I will never abandon Daisy, and… having her back is… (she sighs) But right now she’s dead weight, and I need to be able to travel light.

Basira wants someone powerful to protect her, is conflicted that she doesn’t have that but still will never abandon Daisy regardless. And, true to her word, she does support what Daisy is doing.

From MAG 140:

BASIRA

We’ve talked about it. If the Hunt takes her again, we don’t know if she’s coming back. And neither of us want that.

In MAG 146, she even praises Daisy’s path of resistance.

BASIRA

You didn’t know what you were doing.

[Daisy makes a pained sound, as if to contradict her, but stops.]

BASIRA

And since you did, you’ve spent every waking hour resisting.

So, Basira is--true to Elias’s word--being Daisy’s anchor to humanity. True to her own word, she’s having Daisy’s back, supporting her decision to quit the hunt even if it means Basira has less back up. So what changes?

MAG 155:

BASIRA

Because I’m not going to lose her.

ARCHIVIST

She goes hunting again, you might anyway.

BASIRA

And if she doesn’t, she might die.

Even at this point, Basira’s worst impulses are always about Daisy. Even when she undercuts Daisy’s progress, it’s about Daisy’s wellbeing. All she wants to do is make sure Daisy’s alive and okay, and to that end she will throw out all of her rationality and moral principles.

And then, when Daisy does finally give into the hunt, it’s for Basira.

It’s... funny to analyze and critique this behavior, because I have seen this sort of behavior in Jon/Martin fics treated as a sweet and romantic thing. You know, the “I want you to keep being a monster because I don’t want to lose you!” thing. And also the “prioritizing each other over everything else in the world” thing. Because the concept of unconditional support, of putting another person first above everything else in the world--it’s an alluring one.

But with Daisy and Basira, even though their relationship isn’t necessarily romantic, we see how harmful that mindset can be. How someone can care for you, prioritize you, make you feel like the whole world, and... the main effect of that is to stunt you, to give you so much comfort you never get out of a harmful cycle or change your behavior at all. How it can cause you to enable horrible things in the world, like police brutality. 

That is the story of Daisy and Basira’s relationship. It’s about the effects of this cycle on Basira--yes, Basira specifically and not Daisy, even though the cycle is mutually reinforcing and affects them both.

Basira appears in nearly twice as many episodes as Daisy. Because of this, Basira is the one we see discussing the relationship and what it means to her. Basira is the one we see grappling with the psychological fallout of their relationship. It’s more Basira’s story than Daisy’s--not because she’s the “victim” or that she was morally pure but because... Basira is the one who ultimately grows past this.

After episode after episode of “she needs me” and “I can’t leave her” and “I can’t let her die”--after Basira endangering herself and stunting her own growth by centering Daisy

DAISY

Partner… Come…

[MORE FOOTSTEPS]

BASIRA

Not now. Not after everything.

--Basira finally breaks free, and moves on.

[thewickedmerman]

My Theory on the Magic in The Swan Princess

As many of you know, I absolutely ADORE The Swan Princess, its hand drawn sequels, and the fandom in general. Being a MASSIVE fan, I’ve heard criticism about the original trilogy even before the CGI sequels came into in existence. That’s something I either counter with correcting things they got wrong (Because people very frequently get things wrong about these movies) or just taking it with a grain of salt. However, one thing people point to is how the magic in The Swan Princess movies is confusing. Well, I’m here to explain how I think the magic works in the world of The Swan Princess. First of all, I’m only taking into account the hand drawn movies because the third movie was originally supposed to be the last movie and it really shows because of how there is a lot of continuity errors in the CGI movies. Now lets dive in.

Lets start with the original movie and how Derek’s vow of everlasting love didn’t work, despite that he said it was for Odette. It’s stated in the movie that he has to make a vow of everlasting love and prove it to the world. That is a statement that is vague enough to have plenty of grey area to mean anything. Odette wasn’t even sure how Derek would be able to prove it to the world. While Derek believed that proclaiming his love to Odette at the ball would be enough, it really wasn’t. What I interpret as proving it to the world is that Derek has to prove it to Odette, who is his entire world, as your true love is meant to be. At this point, Derek still hadn’t proven his love to Odette beyond just her beauty and as Odette said to her father, “I need to know that he loves me, for just being me.” While Odette does love Derek, she needs to know for sure he loves her for who she is and not just for her appearance. One might argue that the fact that he has been searching for her for a year, which the makers of the film confirmed is how long Odette was under Rothbart’s captivity, without giving up would be enough to prove it.

Skip to 2:26 to see the confirmation on how long Odette was in Rothbart’s captivity

However, Odette still needed to hear what he loves about her beyond just her beauty. Derek clearly does but had a hard time expressing himself, so he thought proclaiming his words of love at the ball will be enough. If you pay attention to his vow, it’s rather vague and doesn’t really say anything about who Odette is as a person, so it made Odette doubt that he could tell the difference between her and someone who just looks like her. Derek is skeptical of The Black Swan but still proclaimed his love, believing her to be the real Odette. However, since his vow was vague and didn’t really express his feelings for Odette, it wasn’t really specific enough to apply to the real Odette. He didn’t prove his love to the real Odette, so his vow not working because it was to the wrong girl makes sense when you think about it, despite that he said it was for Odette.

“Kings and queens! Ladies and Gentlemen!... Mother... I have an announcement to make. Today, I have found my bride. I present her to you as the future queen of our fair kingdom. And as proof of my love for her, I make a vow to break all vows. A vow stronger than all the powers of the Earth. Before you and before the whole world, I make a vow of everlasting love to Odette.”

Some have also questioned why the vow to the wrong girl would kill Odette, likely because it was stated much later in the film. However, it makes perfect sense when you think about it. A vow of everlasting love from the man she loves is what would free her from the spell she’s under, so it only makes sense that her true love proclaiming his love to someone who isn’t her would be what killed her. True love will set her free but the failure of true love will be her undoing. It also made sense for Rothbart to cast a spell that had these consequences because he probably believed it would pressure her into marrying him because if Derek moved onto someone else, she would die. Rothbart had the power to remove the spell permanently and he would’ve done so had she agreed to marry him in order for him to obtain her father’s kingdom. What he didn’t count on was that Odette wasn’t so easily submissive and had too strong a will for him to break. Odette even stated that she’d die before she’d marry Rothbart.

People have also questioned how Odette was brought back to life both in the original movie and in the third movie. I can explain both because while they are different, they have similar explanations. Odette’s death in the third movie was explained by the makers of The Swan Princess in the Q&A section of their monthly Chamberg Daily, which was actually a question that I asked. They explained that since it was magic that killed Odette, with both the magic user dead and the magic source destroyed, all the damaged caused by the magic was reversed.

Skip to 2:34 to hear their explanation

Since in the third movie, Odette was brought back to life once both Zelda and The Forbidden Arts were destroyed, it fits in with explaining how Odette was brought back to life in the original movie. Derek had killed Rothbart but Odette was still unconscious and didn’t immediately wake up once Rothbart was defeated. There is a reason for that, which goes along with what they said. Rothbart was destroyed but the source of his magic, The Forbidden Arts, wasn’t. As we learn in the second movie, The Forbidden Arts were hidden away deep in the castle at Swan Lake. After Rothbart had lost his power before by not keeping his magic hidden well enough, he wasn’t about to make the same mistake twice. The only ones that knew where they were hidden were Rothbart, Bridget (Also known as The Hag), Clavius, and Zelda.

Anyway, since the source of Rothbart’s power still existed, the magic still had a hold over Odette enough to where she was still under the spell and the consequences of Derek’s actions were still present. However, Odette was no longer dead but rather in a coma where she hung between the balance of life and death. Since she was now merely in a coma, she could hear everything going on around her, so she could hear Derek proclaim his love of everlasting love to her. But this time, he wasn’t as vague and was more personal in his declaration of love by stating that he had always loved her for her kindness and courage. He thought he had lost her forever and when someone loses someone they love, they are able to say all the things they couldn’t say before but now with regret for not saying it while the one they loved was alive. Derek was lucky enough to get that second chance because his vow of everlasting love was heard by the woman he loved and considered to be his entire world, which was enough to break the spell and awake her from her coma. Puffin even said, “Well, there you have it. Everlasting love,” so that is the movie acknowledging that everlasting love is what saved Odette.

In a way, this logic also applies to how Odette was able to turn back into a human in the second movie. While there wasn’t really a magic user that turned Odette into a swan but rather just Bridget, who didn’t actually absorb the magic like the villains did, using the orb. If Bridget had actually absorbed the magic, she would’ve used it on Clavius in order to keep him from getting the orb. So there wasn’t a magic user until Clavius absorbed the magic. However, once the orb and Clavius were destroyed, Odette still remained a swan. Why? Because The Forbidden Arts still weren’t gone. Rothbart’s notes, which were the formula for The Forbidden Arts, still existed. So this meant that there was still a flicker of magic left that kept her as a swan. However, since the powers were much weaker now, it meant that the moonlight could change Odette back into a human again and it wasn’t strong enough to change her back into a swan again when the moonlight left the lake.

This brings us back to the third movie where it was magic that killed Odette, which is much different from how her father was killed by Rothbart, which wasn’t really by magic, other than Rothbart using his magic to change himself into The Great Animal. Her father remained dead because his death wasn’t caused by magic, where as both times that Odette died, it was because of magic (Jean Bob’s death in the second movie was, I guess caused by magic, so Odette’s transformation managed to bring him back as well). However, once Zelda, the orb, and Rothbart’s notes were destroyed, it meant there was absolutely no source of magic left. This allowed Odette to arise from the ashes of what killed her and return to life in her human form because there was nothing to keep her dead or to keep her in her swan form after coming back to life.

Well, thank you guys for taking the time to read this. I hope you guys like it, reblog, and comment letting me know what you think. Also, did you know that The Swan Princess has an OFFICIAL Youtube, Facebook, Tumblr, and Instagram? They even interact with fans A LOT! Take a look!

https://www.instagram.com/swanprincessofficial/

@theswanprincessofficial

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCm_Q3k32sEVQbrANS7-vSjA

https://www.facebook.com/official.swanprincess

[adhdarcheologist]

First Aid & Personal Kit

This is probably one of the most important and also the most overlooked aspect of what you should have on an archeological dig. Theoretically (and I say theoretically with the knowledge of experience) there should be a first aid kit or multiple on any dig site. However this shockingly isn’t always the case. Even then, if you take a minute to look at how many people are digging vs how many bandaids there are, you quickly realize that it doesn’t add up. This is also a bonus to keep with you because you of course have your own personal needs and it’s important to make sure that they’re met, no matter where you are or what you happen to be doing. Like before I’ve split it up into different levels/sections to make it easier to follow and figure out what you might need. Stay safe my friends!

Fundamental

> bandaids/ plasters (varying sizes) > wound cleaner/ disinfectant > tick key/ tweezers

> water bottle > sunscreen > lip balm > moisturizer > hand sanitizer > Kleenex/ tissues or toilet paper > period products

Here are some basics you might want to have in your bag. I would say that the most important ones are plasters, water and sunscreen. These are the fundamentals of the fundamentals (and yes I added sunscreen to what to wear as well but that’s genuinely how important it is). Others are just a good idea to have. You never know when you’ll run out of tp on site. Hand sanitizer because you might not want to trek all the way back to the water station to wash your hands (and you’ve been touching allot of stuff even with gloves). Period products for anyone who needs them, if you don’t have that issue no need to bring them, but honestly if you have some spares in your bag anyway it’s mighty appreciated by those who do.

Basic

> basic first aid kit > medical tape > moleskin > aloe/ sunburn care > headache/pain medication > scissors

> water bottle (x2) > facial/body wipes > spf lip balm > spare snack (ie. granola bar)

Like with the what to wear post the Basic and Full Kit can be a bit interchangeable. These are of course suggestions of what might be good to have but use your own judgement and experience. So instead of laying out all of the elements of a first aid kit I suggest buying one that’s pre assembled and adding to it as you need to. These are sold at most outdoor/ camping stores as well as allot of pharmacies. If you still want to build your own look at what they list for these kits and use that as a guide.

Full kit

> medium first aid kit > tensor/ elasticated bandage > triangular bandage > emergency blanket > kinaesthetic tape > matches (water proof) > after bite lotion

> sports drink/ electrolyte tabs > small travel towel > toothbrush & toothpaste > bar of soap

This section has just some extra bits you might want, including some you might want to add to the Basic kit level. This includes a medium first aid kit (which you can buy) plus some things that aren’t usually included in them but may be useful. The personal care items are up to you but I find that they’re always things I’ve ended up using on site or wished that I had.

A Note: I would highly suggest having some sort of first aid training because the more people on site who have it the better. Make sure to keep this up to date because procedures and methods change. Even just familiarizing yourself with some first aid techniques can be super helpful.

—

Overall remember that the biggest danger on any site is human error. We try to plan for that and avoid accidents but stuff happens. Hopefully some of the suggestions here can help you be prepared for anything that might come your way. But my final thoughts are these:

> stay hydrated/ bring water > if you’re injured or don’t feel well, stop digging and tell someone. Please you are always more important than the archeology. > take care of yourself as much as possible and know your limits. > and once again STAY SAFE

[askaceattorney]

Dear Asexual-Deesasters,

Mod Edgeworth: 

If you want to know the answer to that question, go to this link.

Dear Skibot99,

Co-Mod: I’m fairly certain it was The Mod, but I don’t know for sure.  He actually had another one before it, made from an old Ace Attorney musical animation.  I haven’t been able to locate that video, unfortunately, but here’s the old banner:

Ah...  Those were good days.  Good days.

Dear Dawsongfg,

Co-Mod: It’s fine.  Besides, it won’t be too long before those letters are accepted, so maybe we’ll hold onto them until that time.

Dear skibot99 again,

Mod Edgeworth: The Lost Turnabout hands down. All logic is thrown out the window the moment Phoenix had amnesia. It’s clear the Judge knew something was wrong with Phoenix, so why didn’t he call for a recess or check on Phoenix? Not to mention Wellington was annoying. He’s probably the only character I would be hesitant to play as when answering letters, if only because he was so unbearable.

As for Turnabout Ablaze, I do agree that it is a drag to get through in the end, though the entire game of AAI was boring, aside from the game mechanics. As a case by itself, I wouldn’t put it as my least favorite, if only because I did get some funny parts out of it.  It also contributed to the overall story, whereas The Lost Turnabout could just be taken out and it wouldn’t effect the overarching plot.

Co-Mod: I’d probably have to go with Turnabout Big Top.  I honestly couldn’t figure out the part where you have to present Max’s poster without consulting a walkthrough.  Why couldn’t we just present Max himself?  Besides that, the ending was largely underwhelming -- the murder weapon was hidden under Acro’s blanket the entire time, but instead of seeing a screenshot of it there, we just have to imagine it.  Maybe it was a filler case, but that was no excuse for it to end so poorly.  Not to mention one of the witnesses was a literal puppet.

It’s hard truth, Trilo.  Live with it.

Dear skibot99 and Anonymous,

Mod Edgeworth: I… think I heard from her when the localization of DGS was announced? I know Mod Kristoph and Mod Maya introduced themselves when I came into the group. There’s a third person, but I only heard from her once. As for what’s going on with her… I don’t know.

As for the flooding the inbox, it’s fine. I won’t promise a letter or two won’t be deleted, but we may make an exception and I’d hardly consider 4-5 different letters flooding the inbox. However, I do highly suggest lowering your letter sending to no more than three a day to prevent deletion of your letters. The only time I’d say your letters are flooding the inbox is when you’re sending 10-20 of them, especially of the same letter, and we have to scroll down for a while to get to the next letter. We will only choose three out of that pile and delete the rest.

And yes, we do have a few that send us 10-20 of the same letter to multiple characters in the span of five minutes. Geez.

Co-Mod: Mod Paups has had to remain absent for personal reasons, and sadly, has recently communicated to me that she wishes to leave the blog entirely.  Thanks for all you’ve contributed to this blog, Mod Paups, and best of luck in whatever you do next!

(Referenced Letter)

Dear mungeondaster,

Mod Edgeworth: Since I answered this one, I shall answer your letter.

(^ Why do I always use this sprite? ^) Actually, the localization never specified if Manfred Von Karma was born in Germany or not. In fact, we never knew the German part until Justice For All when Franziska Von Karma was stated to have flown all the way from Germany. It never specifies any reason for this and fans were quick to jump to the conclusion that it means the Von Karma family were German, which… isn’t entirely true? Manfred Von Karma never said he lived in Germany and, for all we know, Franziska could’ve lived in Germany to study law or something.

Now, the OG does give us more specific detail on this, being why I answered this the way I did. In the OG, both Von Karma’s were born Japanese, but lived in America or at least have an estate there. It specified that they were originally born in Japan, which would be translated to LA, California in the localization. While using the OG canon isn’t normal here, I will use it, if the localization doesn’t specify things. In this case, it never specified if the Von Karma’s were born in Germany or if Manfred Von Karma lived in America. Since he had to wait out the Statue of Limitations for DL-6, we can assume he lived in LA for 15 years or more. That means he’s American.

I am still getting the hang of writing letters, but I try to stick to canon as much as possible. If you believe we’ve made an error in our letters, feel free to let us know, but also show proof, if we go against canon. We’ll be sure the letter is sent to the right mod or else fix it.

Dear  Bluedragoncody,

Mod Edgeworth: I... don’t know how to feel about that.

Also, I accidentally deleted your previous letter before this one when trying to post it on here. I’m so sorry about that. If you could remember it, would you send it again?

Co-Mod: I’ll just respond to this with an old classic:

Dear Aceattorneyismyjam,

Mod Edgeworth: I-I’m not a pro! I accidentally deleted an important mod question from bluedragoncody, because of my inexperience. Oof! Again, so sorry!

Granted, I am good with digital art and writing essays, but I’m still trying to get the hang of being a mod here. Believe me, I do get corrected on several mistakes I do here. I can’t really call myself a pro just yet. I’ve only just started becoming a mod here last month lol

Dear Dahlia,

Mod Edgeworth: I thank you for your support of this blog and my essay. Manfred Von Karma is also my favorite villain and someone I do feel is underestimated as a one dimensional villain. I think people hate him so much, because of how he ruined Miles Edgeworth’s life without looking at the bigger picture. They focus on the bad things with their black colored glasses without dissecting Manfred Von Karma’s character as a whole. 

One thing I love about this blog, even before becoming a mod, is that no one here ever portrayed Manfred Von Karma as the one dimensional villain. He can be snappy at times, but as proven in many of our previous letters, he’s also portrayed as being calm when threatened, polite at times and absolutely loves his wife and children. Yes, he’s a terrible person, but that’s what makes him so interesting. He’s a bad, evil person that does good things from time to time. It doesn’t justify any of his horrible deeds, murder included, but it does make him human.

Co-Mod: I’m...going to assume you’re a different Dahlia.  (I’m grabbing a Magatama of Parting just in case, though.  I’m sure you can understand.)

Anyway, thanks for being such a loyal follower!  This blog’s been through a lot of changes since it began, and since I joined it back in 2017, so I’m glad it’s still a good source of enjoyment for you.  I’ve seen all sorts of cringe by now, by the way (some of which I wrote myself), so don’t worry about it.

I’m also glad that the characters still sound like themselves and not like us.  The hilarious personalities and quirks given to them by Capcom’s writers, as well as the humanity in so many of them, make them easy to relate to, and thus fairly easy to mimic.  I may have said something like this before, but I see myself in a lot of them -- in Athena’s fear of inadequacy, in Apollo’s desire for justice in a world where it’s hard to find, in Sebastian’s confusion about where to go next after his world falls apart, and possibly even in the von Karmas’ desire for perfection.  I of course identify with their positive feelings as well -- Phoenix’s smugness when he gets things right, Athena’s joy after pulling off a victory in court, Adrian’s pride after her self-confidence is restored, etc. -- but there’s something about the struggles they face that make them easier to relate to, on top of being that much more awesome in the end.

Unfortunately, I can’t promise anything about this blog continuing on in perpetuity.  For one thing, I don’t plan on being around forever (I’m fairly certain the other Mods don’t, either), and for that matter, there’s also no telling how long Tumblr will be around.  All I can promise is that I’ll give my best while I’m here, and that the love from you and everyone else who shares it here is sure to be what keeps us going.  Thank you for your contribution!

Dear TurqouiseJavelin,

Mod Edgeworth: Hm... not bad ideas. Though, we mods choose our own mod names under the condition that it doesn’t match anyone else’s mod name.

Co-Mod: What Mod Edgeworth said.  Choosing the name “Mod Athena” may or may not increase your chances of being hired, though.  *wink, wink*

Dear Anonymous, 

Mod Edgeworth: Actually, Gregory was stated in the Autopsy to have died by a gunshot. However, you do bring up something interesting. If Gregory Edgeworth realized he was dead and last remembered Robert Hammond strangling him, he wouldn’t think “I died by the shot of a gun.” Since the Detectives weren’t aware that victim had died unconscious, they’d assume the victim would recall being shot and killed. This makes me wonder if Gregory Edgeworth was channeled, but never brought to court to be cross-examined.

There are still holes, but I do like your aspect on DL-6.

Co-Mod: Dang...  No matter how many times you come back to this game, there’s always something new to think about.  I honestly hadn’t considered those details about Yanni Yogi’s trial.  Your explanation makes the most sense to me, but there’s one other possibility regarding Gregory’s testimony -- he may have chosen to lie about who murdered him in order to protect his son from a murder charge.  That’s all open to interpretation, of course, so your guess is as good as ours.

It’s a good thing we’re not actual defense attorneys, huh?

-The Mods

[edge-lorde]

the religion of the galactic horde

“You seem reluctant to help me. But I only wish to use your weapon to bring peace to the darkest corners of the universe. (Glimmer: Peace? If you activate the Heart of Etheria, there will be no one left.) Yes. No war, no pain. Old worlds swept aside, a new beginning for the universe.” --Horde Prime explaining his motivations to Glimmer

the horde in shera was definitely inspired by Christianity and uses a lot of its imagery, the most iconic being the baptism scene. it certainly gives off the vibes of a christian or christian adjacent cult, but what is its actual doctrine? i have some thoughts about that. 

first here are what i consider to be the 3 main differences between real christianity and the horde: 

Their jesus didn't ascend to heaven. He's still with them.

They don't have a larger creator god. They worship horde prime like he is a living god but they don't believe that he created the universe.

They have no focus on the afterlife

this is going to be long.

before i begin heres the sparknotes version of christianity for anyone not familiar. I am not evangelizing this, just think of it as LORE. 

Once upon a time there was a guy named Jesus. He was the son of the one true god, who both created everything in the universe, is everywhere and knows everything, and controls the afterlife. Jesus is god born as a mortal person, sent by god to teach all of humanity the errors of their evil ways so they can repent and go to the good afterlife when they die. There're two afterlives, a good one and a bad one, heaven is the good one and its run by god and his army of angels, which are divine beings that god can send to earth to do things. The bad one is called hell. 

Anyway, in his time on earth jesus was the only person ever to never do anything bad ever (called sin). He tried to teach people how to be good but was Too Good for this Cruel World and was killed. 3 days later he came back from the dead, proving his divinity. Some time after that however, he ascended into heaven without dying, telling his followers to spread the word because hes going to be coming back. Christians today are still awaiting his return. In the meantime, christians follow his teachings left behind in holy texts. 

The crux of christianity is to get to heaven when you die, and this can only be done by following the teachings of jesus christ, believing in god, and believing that jesus was the son of god. Its a given that everyone will do bad things at some point in their lives so you're supposed to pray to god and ask for forgiveness regularly and if you really mean it then god will forgive you. 

thats the basics. 

to my first main point from above, if we posit that horde prime is the jesus equivalent of the horde religion, because hes treated as a living god, his goal is to spread his philosophy throughout the universe, then in the horde religions jesus never ascended into heaven. this would be like if jesus in our world rose from the dead and just picked up where he left off, and never died after that and was alive today. that would be pretty good proof of divinity. 

to my 2nd point, theres nothing in the show that suggests that horde prime thinks that he created the universe. this means that he did not get his divinity from anywhere but inside himself, hes not claiming that hes the rightful ruler of the known universe for any other reason besides his ideas are the best. 

the 3rd point is that the show does show horde prime or the horde caring one bit about the afterlife, save for one line from wrong hordak.

"Brother, I hope you, too, are full of only love for Horde Prime and have no crippling doubt eating at your soul."

meaning that they have the concept of the soul. which is very interesting and ill get to it, but on the whole the hordes focus seems to be on the here and now. this is a huge departure from christianity because chrisitanity is all about getting to the afterlife. that is the reason that christians are supposed to follow christ and recruit as many people as possible to do the same, because if they dont, they or other people will supposedly go to hell when they die. i say supposedly because at funerals, even if the person who died wasnt a believer, in my experience no christian would ever ever ever insinuate that someone went to hell. 

but the difference still stands. following real christian ideology is supposed to have benefits for the individual in the afterlife, while in the horde religion salvation seems to only be found by submitting to prime in this life and being either a tool that he can use to further his goal of purifying the universe or by letting him remove you from it. 

on top of all that, horde prime has the hive mind, which he uses to control the thoughts of all his followers. this means that theres no room for a bible study, no need of a holy text at all in fact, and no room for interpretation. horde prime delivers orders to your brain directly and can tell if you think anything out of line. real Christianity does have the idea that a sin that you just think about doing is as bad as actually doing it, but in the horde these thoughts can be easily discovered and punished. 

the horde religion seems to me to be a strangely secular version of christianity with only the bad parts remaining; the control, the blind faith, the certainty that you are right and everyone else is wrong, the not questioning authority. with none of the good aspects like community, and good deeds. it is a cult in the truest sense of the word, a religion that begins and ends with one person only, that person being horde prime.

so, if you take horde prime out of the equation, what, if anything, would be left? 

i find the plight of the horde clones here to be the most interesting. we know that they do have thoughts about their religion, as it was hordaks belief that he could earn his way back into horde primes god graces that kept him going all those years in despondos, and wrong hordak is distraught when he discovers that horde prime lied about krytis. 

unlike both the chipped people we see in the show and real religious converts, the clones were born into this cult that values blind obedience only, and have no prior ideology or cultural identity to fall back on when they are taken out of it. 

so to answer this question, i must add some conjecture to horde primes backstory and how the clones see themselves in horde primes universe. I already wrote up a brief backstory idea for horde prime/the clones and have it posted on here somewhere. I'm not going to dig it up but you could probably find it in the #horde prime tag on my blog if you dig hard enough. 

To summarize it though, I have it as horde prime was once a regular (bad) dude who became a cult leader under the premise of preaching peace --> he becomes disillusioned with people and even his own followers because he doesn't actually like people, he likes manipulating them. --> this and the power of being a cult leader go to his head and he starts to think that he is the only person in existence capable of living a moral life and everyone else needs to be saved from themselves, the world would be a better place if he could just make everyone's decisions for them. --> he somehow gets a hold of the technology needed to set up the hive mind, be it by inventing it himself, stealing it, finding it, or being gifted it. 

I'll pause here to address the theory that horde prime was originally an eldritch being that simply possessed a dude who would become the template for the clones. I think there's enough stuff in the show that this is a valid read and might even be canon but i don't really care for it. For me, what makes horde prime a compelling villain is that he's a very human evil, so having him actually be an evil demon thing instead of a really bad but believable dude who got near ultimate power weakens his character. BUT, i’m not going to address it in my comic so i'll leave it open as to whether he's got that going on or not. If he is, the clones don’t know about it and neither they nor the other characters have any way of discovering it. IF he is though, it would happen here. I could see it being a cool idea for him to get the hive mind from the eldritch being that would then possess him and haunt his lineage for time immemorial as a deal with the devil sort of thing, but he has to be a bad person before that.

Anyway he gets the hive mind--> he gets all of his followers to chip themselves --> gets those people to chip everyone else on his home planet --> use his planet wide army to harvest all resources on the planet and build his first space fleet and take to the skies and start his conquest--> realize that if he is to succeed hes going to need to both become immortal and find a steady source of new followers because chipped people die eventually and he doesnt care about people enough to figure out a way to keep a self sufficient population of followers alive, he just wants people around to adore him and do his bidding--> invents his cloning system-->

and heres the big one,

his original body has to die so he can upload his consciousness into a new clone.  

and THAT, to the clones, would be the moment that horde prime becomes a god.

his reliance on the hive mind and vast network of followers are what give him his godly abilities, but just as the horde clones could not exist without being cloned from horde prime, so too could horde prime not exist as he does in the show without them. 

i see it as both a christlike sacrifice and a cyclical system of debt and sacrifice. horde prime dies for our sins, so that he might continue to purify the universe so that there will be no more death and more clones will be born, while the clone hes possessing has to essentially die by giving himself up entirely to become the new prime so all this can happen too, and to repay primes death. not all clones can become the next prime however, but all must be ready to die for him, hence horde prime having clone infantries despite also having robots he could send instead. 

i dont have clear thoughts about what the green goo is, but horde primes words about his brothers lending him their life force go along with this idea. the clones give him theyre life force, so he can give it back to them.

another interesting aspect of this is that prime always portrays himself as a brother to his followers, never a father as christ is portrayed as in christianity. i know this is from hordak and horde prime being actual brothers in the 80s show but ive seen this trope come up a few times in media before, where a man raises a kid but has them call him their brother instead of dad. it seems so deliberate. because a parents job is to take care of you, but a sibling, might take care of you sure, but thats not their job. its like hes deliberately trying to place himself on the same level as his ‘sibling’ so he can demand the same amount of respect you would give to a parent without taking on the responsibility to not... ya know... screw them over in the head? idk it seems very slimy to me. but that says more about prime as a character than how the clones see him.

and we still have the concept of the soul to fit in here somehow, and do they have an afterlife? im going to say no to the afterlife. theres just not enough in the show to go off of and everything that we do know about horde prime points to him only caring about himself in life. HOWEVER, there is nothing more quintessentially christian than the concept of hell and i think that will be of use here. 

since the creation of the clones is tied with the creation of their religion, this would put the clones themselves less as allegories of people who need to be saved and more as the horde version of angels. in my telling here, horde prime views all people who do not submit to his will as net negatives to the universe who have to be removed for peace to exist, so by this view the chipped people are the saved, the people that horde prime kills are the sinners, and his military campaign is one long apocalypse slowly working its way through the universe, with the clones carrying out his righteous judgement. but the afterlife isnt involved in this, so even if some chipped people are left alive, eventually they will all die out, and then it will be just horde prime and is clones in a perfect, peaceful starless sky, and thats what heaven is. 

getting to heaven is the main goal of real christianity and it is the same in horde religion, but heaven isnt a place in the horde cosmology, its a physical goal that has to be created. not all clones will make it to heaven of course, because most will die before they reach total destruction of the universe but the clones arent supposed to think of themselves as individuals anyway. they have to be willing to die for horde prime and die for the cause or be cast out and thats hell. 

i dont see prime as someone who would kill his own followers outright too often even though he could. plus they arent supposed to value their individual lives the same way normal people do anyway it doesnt seem like a real punishment, they need something worse than simple death to fear. so by my view hell for the clones is separation from prime. it can be in life or death. no matter how bad it is in the horde being on the outside of it has to seem worse, and thats where the concept of the soul comes in. when one is a part of the hive mine, their soul is with prime. they are not supposed to have a will or any thoughts beyond love for prime, its essentially the same as not having a soul but they think of it as being at peace. being cast out is to be never at peace and would be told to them as being the worst possible thing that could ever happen to someone because it corrupts the soul. 

“a lot of unpleasant things happen in the horde so just imagine how terrible it must be outside of it! you cant because i protect you from that. now get in the goo, this is for your own good” - horde prime probably 

this is why outsiders are so resistant to submitting to primes light and also why its ok to kill them, in the hordes view. 

so, to start wrapping thigs up, there is no horde without horde prime. the religion starts and ends with him. because he is supposed to be the only person ever to be able to make true moral and just decisions, without him is followers cant take any actions without worrying that they are going against primes will. since they have no holy text they cant extrapolate and try to figure it out either. its up in the air whether or not they are going to find a way to get the horde to make the jump from cult to regular religion.

its late i got to go to bed now

[swaps55]

Little Spoon

Requested by @mallaidhsomo, inspired by @shotce‘s adorable artwork. 

~

Even when they try to celebrate something these days, it turns into something closer to desperate drinking before the end of the night. Most of the time the desperate drinking goes well into the early morning, and not, Garrus thinks, because everyone is that hell bent on getting drunk. More like they don’t want to let go of each other’s company and go to sleep, where the only company is the nightmare scenarios in everyone’s heads.

Tonight is no different, even though it’s supposed to be. Shepard didn’t want to celebrate his birthday in the first place, but once someone – Garrus’ money is on Traynor – let it slip, the entire ship latched onto it.

Which is why the lounge is currently the busiest place on the ship. Kaidan manhandles Garrus, Joker, James, Dr. Chakwas and Cortez at a rousing game of poker. Liara and Tali giggle – Garrus now has recorded proof that Liara can giggle – on the couch as they explain an Earth romance novel series to Traynor and EDI. Shepard, on the other hand, sits at the bar with hunched shoulders, swirling a shot of whiskey with a scowl. It would be more intimidating if a half-eaten slice of cake wasn’t sitting next to him and a party hat Traynor had fabricated from an omnitool wasn’t hanging around his neck.  

Garrus knows when to quit at poker, so when the hand ends he slides into the seat next to Shepard and pours himself a turian brandy.

“Did Kaidan clean you out?” Shepard asks.

“And then some,” Garrus concurs. His brow plates shift. “You’re not drunk enough yet.”

“No kidding.” He holds up the shot and clinks it against Garrus’ carapace, then kicks it back. Garrus drinks his, pours them both another one, then grabs a napkin and dabs the whiskey that’s now on his carapace.

“So why are you anti-birthday? I thought humans loved commemorating their ages.”

Shepard grimaces. “How fucking old am I, Garrus?”

Garrus blinks. “Shepard, I have no idea. I don’t have your file memorized. Ok, I may have your blood pressure memorized. And your typical heart rate, both in and out of combat. Oh, and after that incident on Korlus I got to learn all about human blood sugar. Specifically yours. But not your age.”

Shepard tilts his head. “What’s my blood pressure?”

“Now, or usually?”

“Usually.”

“One fourteen over seventy-six.”

“Well, shit.”

“Drink your whiskey.”

Shepard does, so Garrus does, and then pours them both another. Shepard’s Cerberus metabolism makes the actual ‘drunk’ part a lot harder than it used to be. Through a lot of trial and error, Garrus learned the key is rapid-fire shots and a can-do attitude. Sometimes the can-do attitude has to come from Garrus.

“Ok, so back to your weird hang up with age,” Garrus says.

Shepard finds an empty bottle of beer and starts picking at the label. From the couch, Traynor utters the phrase “that’s not how a strap on works if you’re going for realism,” and Garrus regrets having ears.

“I should be turning 30,” Shepard says, so quietly Garrus almost misses it trying to tune out Traynor. “Thirty’s a big deal for humans. I guess.” He goes back to swirling his whiskey, holding the shot glass up to his eyeline and examining it closely before kicking it back.  

“Ah,” Garrus says wisely. It isn’t hard for him to get drunk, something he always forgets when he starts matching shots with Shepard. “But then you died.”

“Yeah. So how old am I? Am I thirty? Or am I thirty-two? I missed two fucking years of my life, Garrus. Those years were mine. I wanted them.” He turns his head just enough to catch a glimpse of the poker game going on behind them. Or more likely, the biotic major who is kicking everyone’s ass at the poker game.

“Two years of birthday sex would be a shitty thing to miss out on,” Garrus says with a solemn nod.

That earns him a snicker. “Something like that. I’ll be honest, I feel more robbed of the cuddling than the sex. I mean, don’t get me wrong he’s—”

“Shepard, I am gonna stop you right there, because I am not drunk enough to hear about the intimate details of your sex life and I am positive that all of your crewmates on the couch are now listening to every word you say.”

“We are not,” Tali huffs.

Garrus flicks a mandible.

Shepard shrugs, unconcerned.  “The cuddling is fucking stellar.” He shoots the whiskey, slamming the empty glass back on the table.

“I know. So you’ve said.”

Shepard probably doesn’t realize just how much he’s talked about Alenko’s snuggling superpowers. It took Garrus awhile to figure out how spoons factored into it, but eventually he got there. It was a lot less…weird than he’d been picturing. Humans are so endlessly bendy.

“I just…don’t particularly enjoy celebrating the reminder that I’m never getting those two years back.”

Garrus’ mandibles quiver. “Well, you weren’t supposed to come back at all. Dying is pretty permanent for everyone who’s not you. Why not celebrate the fact that when you stop brooding and Alenko gets tired of taking Vega’s money, you’re going to go back up to your cabin and be the little spoon you were born to be?”

Shepard tilts his head. “You might have a point there.”

“Hang on, the universe just provided me with some rather cosmic timing.” Garrus gets unsteadily to his feet, walks unsteadily to the couch and unsteadily leans Tali forward so he can grab a small parcel he’d stuffed behind the cushion.

“Hey,” Tali protests.

“You’re beautiful and I’ll make that up to you,” he informs her before shuffling back to the bar with the package. He clears his throat loud enough for the poker table to hear. He and Alenko had created a code word for this, but fuck if he remembers what it is. Thankfully, Alenko isn’t nearly as dense as Shepard, and figures it out. He lays his cards on the table, gets to his feet, and heads to the bar, pausing to grab another hidden parcel.

“Happy birthday,” Garrus says, handing him the gift. The packaging is just a zipped duffle bag. Garrus figured that having the idea was more important than figuring out how to make taped paper look special.  

Shepard narrows his eyes. “You got me a birthday present.”

Alenko leans a nonchalant elbow on the bar, beer in hand. Shepard, as predicted, hasn’t noticed his costume change.

“Yeah,” Garrus says. “Because I don’t give a damn how old you are. I’m just glad you’re not dead.”

Shepard unzips the bag and pulls out a hoodie. It’s a pullover, just like the one Kaidan now wears, with the word “little” emblazoned on the front, over the silhouette of a spoon.

Shepard blinks at it, brow knitting in confusion, until he looks up and notices Kaidan wearing its twin. Only his says “Big” over the spoon.

The confusion melts into a grin that crinkles the corners of his eyes. He laughs, and looks back at Garrus. “You are such an asshole.”

Garrus holds up his glass. “I learn from the best.”

Kaidan slips the birthday hat still dangling from Shepard’s neck off so he can put the hoodie on. Garrus half expects both of them to bail for the privacy of Shepard’s cabin to practice what their hoodies preach, but the desire for shared company affects Shepard as much as it affects the rest of them. He abandons the bar and switches to the couch, bringing Kaidan with him. Liara moves over to give them room. When they sit, Kaidan draws Shepard into his arms and traps him close.

“To spooning,” Traynor declares, holding up a glass of wine.

“We should add that to our Forbidden Ops story,” Liara says, sipping her martini.

“Way ahead of you,” Tali says.

Shepard smiles, settling deeper into Kaidan’s arms.

Savior of the Galaxy, and Kaidan Alenko’s little spoon. Garrus shakes his head. He has the weirdest fucking friends.