#at least we have some info about her victim now :'D

[linagram]

[ 𝚛𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚊'𝚜 𝚝𝟷 𝚟𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚍𝚛𝚊𝚖𝚊 ] 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚟𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚗

THE LAST VD. FINALLY. we're very close to the end of trial 1, now there's only riku and reina's interrogation + their trial results left.

thank you so much for all your support btw! it's still so hard for me to believe that someone would find these guys interesting enough to read all of this 😭💖💕

(divider link)

(door opens)

Eiji: Hello, Prisoner 010.

Reina: Oh! Hello there, Guard-san! Can't believe it's already time for my interrogation! So excited~

Miki: .. Y-you're excited for your own interrogation?

Reina: Of course! I'd love to answer any of your questions.

Reina: Ehehe, it's kinda like.. I don't know, spending the night talking to your friends and getting to know each other better.

Reina: I miss that feeling, not gonna lie.

Eiji: .. I'm glad that you're the last prisoner. You all are way too weird for me to understand.

Eiji: Well, it's not like I want to understand you. I just have to learn more about your crime and then I can vote you guilty without feeling like I've made a mistake.

Reina: Oh, don't worry about that, Guard-san.

Reina: You don't even need to interrogate me to understand why you should vote me guilty.

Eiji: Yeah, sure, you've been talking about how dangerous you are since you got here.

Reina: Well, I am dangerous. You're literally talking to a serial killer right now-

Eiji: Anyway, Prisoner 010, Himura Reina. 20 years old, unemployed.

Eiji: Huh. So you're not even a college student or anything like that?

Reina: Nope. I don't see why someone like me should get an education.

Reina: Also, from what Eiko-chan and Yurika-chan have told me, it sounds very hard. I don't wanna go through something like that.

Reina: We only live once after all. So I wanna spend my life having fun with the people I love~

Miki: Oh, what do you do for fun, Himura-san?

Reina: Kill people, steal their stuff or maybe just beat them up!

Miki: O-oh.

Eiji: And.. you really do it just for fun?

Reina: Yep.

Reina: What, did you expect me to have a deep and tragic reason for it?

Reina: Sorry, I don't have one.

Reina: Oh, I can come up with one right now though! Let's see..

Miki: U-um, sorry, Himura-san, but..

Miki: I still think that you most likely do have a reason to act like that.

Reina: Really? Why?

Miki: Well.. I believe that when someone does a bad thing, they always have some kind of reason to do it.

Miki: Even when they think they don't have it.

Miki: Because.. If everything was fine, if they had nothing to worry about and if they had no problems at all, why would they go this far? Why would they do something so horrible?

Miki: And even if it's "just for fun", it probably just means that maybe there's something wrong with their mental state or the way they see the world.

Miki: So.. Even if you're someone who probably deserves to be punished, I still want to understand you.

Reina: .. Huh.

Reina: *laughs*

Reina: You sure are funny.

Reina: Sorry, but again, I really don't think I had a reason to do all those things.

Reina: My life was perfect. I wouldn't say I come from a rich family, but we certainly had a lot of money. Both of my parents are alive and well. I have a lot of friends and all of them love me and see me as their leader.

Reina: So like, I don't really have a sad backstory or anything like that.

Eiji: .. Hey.

Eiji: When did you start committing all these crimes? And why?

Reina: Ohhh, that's a nice question, Guard-san! Let me think..

Reina: Hm.. I think I was like 16 or something? I just thought that stealing something from an annoying old lady would be funny.

Eiji: I see. And what did you do with that thing?

Reina: It was a pretty expensive necklace and I gave it to my mom as a birthday gift. I forgot to get something for her, so I thought it would be perfect. And I was right.

Reina: She had no idea where I got the money to buy it, so she just assumed I picked it for her and my dad bought it. He also forgot to get a gift for her, so he played along, but he did yell at me after that.

Reina: So ungrateful..

Miki: So you did have a reason to do it.

Reina: What do you mean? I just told you that I did it for fun! I didn't have any reason-

Miki: You said you found that old lady annoying, right? Did she do something bad to annoy you?

Reina: .. I guess she just didn't like kids. She hated seeing me and my little brother play together, so..

Miki: See? You did have a reason to steal something from her, Himura-san. You didn't just do it because you thought it would be "funny".

Miki: You got mad at that old woman and you stole that necklace from her. It's like.. you tried to "protect yourself" from her in some way? Maybe your little brother too.

Reina: ...

Reina: Haha.. Wow, you really should become a therapist.

Miki: Um, is that a compliment?..

Miki: Oh, by the way, what was your relationship with your little brother like? I'm assuming you two got along well, since your life was so great and-

Reina: Oops, sorry, can't tell you! I've said that I will answer any of your questions, but a cool criminal always has to have at least some secrets~

Eiji: Now you're acting even more suspicious.

Eiji: Okay, fine, if you're a serial killer, describe all of your murders right now. I'm listening.

Reina: Huh? What's with the sudden change of topic?

Eiji: I'm waiting, Reina.

Reina: Uh, f-fine! Let's see..

Reina: Okay, I think I committed my first murder when I was 17? Yeah, I think it was my classmate. Haha, I hated her so much..

Miki: .. Himura-san, I'm sorry, but the way you talk about your crimes is very strange to me.

Reina: What do you mean by that, Miki-chan?

Miki: U-um, actually, I'm also a guard, so-

Reina: Haha, I know, I know, sorry. You're just very cute, that's all.

Eiji: "That's like.. the second prisoner in a row. What's with them complimenting her all of a sudden?"

Eiji: "They're just trying to make her vote them innocent, aren't they?"

Miki: Well.. You talk about them like you don't remember them that well.

Miki: I can understand talking like that about minor crimes, but murders..

Reina: When you're a serial killer like me, you eventually stop counting and caring about your victims.

Reina: Of course, I don't remember most of my murders now.

Miki: !

Miki: This is it!

Miki: Himura-san, if you don't care about how many murders you've committed, then why do you keep mentioning how dangerous and scary you are?

Miki: Why do you keep saying that we should vote you guilty if you don't even care about your crimes?

Miki: I'll take Chiba-san as an example. She wanted us to vote her guilty because she was tired of people saying that her crime was "a good thing".

Miki: And most prisoners here want us to vote them innocent because they care about their crimes. They either know that they've done something wrong, but they're too scared of the consequences, or they think that they were in the right and they refuse to admit that they've done something bad.

Miki: If you don't even care about your crimes, then surely you won't mind us voting you innocent, right? I mean, those crimes don't even matter to you..

Reina: ...

Eiji: .. You've got nothing to say, huh?

Miki: That means you do care about your crimes, Himura-san. You probably care about them most than any other prisoners care about their own murders.

Miki: I just.. I can't believe that you can walk around and call yourself a murderer so proudly, but also refuse to talk about your murders whenever someone asks you about them. Or you just try to come up with something right after hearing the question.

Miki: If you've committed so many crimes and you've been killing people since you were only 17 years old, then why did they make you come to Milgram only now?

Reina: ...

Miki: Say something now, Himura-san. Please.

Reina: .. Wow, you sure are smart!

Miki: I MEANT "SAY SOMETHING ABOUT YOUR CRIMES"!

Miki: ...

Miki: .. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, I'm so-

Eiji: It's okay, Guard 002. Good job.

Eiji: Let me handle this.

Eiji: (to Reina) So, do you have anything to say about your last victim? You know, maybe that last murder of yours will help us figure out why you're here.

Reina: .. Haha, sure!

Reina: Let me think-

Eiji: Stop thinking, Prisoner 010. Just say it. Just tell us the truth.

Eiji: Stop trying to evade the question.

Reina: It was a kid.

Miki: .. What?

Reina: Oh, sorry, he wasn't as young as Asahi-kun.

Reina: He was fifteen, actually.

Reina: And I killed him! I killed him just because this is how cruel I am!

Eiji: Give us more details. How did it happen?

Reina: .. I think this should be enough though.

Reina: Like, come on, Guard-san, I literally told you that I killed a child! Do it, vote me guilty!

Reina: This is such an easy decision, you don't even have to think twice about it!

Reina: So go on and do it! Do it!

(bell rings, machinery sounds)

Eiji: .. You're the last prisoner we're interrogating, by the way.

Reina: Ehehe, well, I hope you still have some energy left. You also have to watch my video, right?

Reina: So please make sure to watch it closely~ You will see all the horrible crimes I've committed.. I'm so excited!

Miki: .. If you really were so excited, you would just tell us everything right now.

Reina: Um.. Well, where's the fun in that?

Reina: It's your job to figure out what actually happened! So I trust you will do the right decision.

Reina: .. You will vote me guilty, right?

Eiji: Who knows.

Reina: Huh?

Reina: But.. Guard-san, aren't you the one who's obsessed with punishing criminals and all that?

Reina: Look at me! Look at me, I'm the worst murderer here! I definitely deserve to-

Eiji: Maybe the best punishment for you would be being voted innocent and living with the knowledge that you've done something wrong and you can't go back.

Eiji: Miki, how about you try saying the line this time?

Eiji: I'm a little tired of it, to be honest.

Miki: Um.. O-okay!

Miki: Prisoner 010, Reina, sing your sins!

═════════•°• ⚠ •°•═════════

[purplink8]

Naomi is one of my favorite characters so I decided to compile my thoughts on her in this post! :D

(Disclaimer: I do not particularly like the fanon version of Naomi & while I do dislike Raye, I still believe without a doubt that he cared for Naomi (enough to go along with Light when he threatened to kill his loved ones, and the first one to pop up in his head was Naomi) and had his (however misguided (by sexism ofc)) best interests at heart for her. That does not absolve him for being, frankly, really really rude + sexist to Naomi and I will forever be annoyed with him for that.

tl;dr I'm neither a fanon!Naomi stan nor a Raye apologist. Anywho-)

Before I talk about Naomi, I want you to take a look at this panel directly above the one in which she first appears.

Before Naomi's first appearance, Ryuk says "I guess women being tough in crisis goes for humans, too." This is said in reference to Yuri being unphased with the bus-hijacking and dragging our fave sexist murderer to Space Land haha.

But I think it's significant that the above quote was said by Ryuk for all women (maybe the real feminism was the Shinigami we found all along!) JUST BEFORE Naomi's first appearance.

Even before Naomi is introduced, the canon has (however jokingly (side-eyeing you Light-o)) established that women are tough in crisis. I do think that's saying something- especially when you'll see (which will be discussed in length in this post) that this statement holds true ESPECIALLY for Naomi.

But we'll come back to this later; let's move on to Naomi actual appearance in canon.

We're introduced to her as Raye's loving fiancé who is also attentive (receptive) towards him as she asks him why he's tired to which he mentions the bus-hijack.

She's quiet in noting down her observations in her head as she asks Raye for more info regarding the bus hijack:

Look at the '...' she has before asking Raye for details. We can read it as hesitation to voice her suspicions before they sound strong enough or as the pause to think it all through OR more likely as we'll see in the panels below, she perhaps hesitates due to the conditions she agreed to with Raye. The pause may also be due to her analytical mind starting to work, she has to mull over the details she's just been given before reaching to a conclusion.

She does speak out on her misgivings as she clearly cares about Raye and thinks (& correctly at that!) that he met Kira.

Only to get shut down by him. Raye is, obviously, sexist and rude here but we have to remember that Raye thinks he's doing the right thing (according to his sexist 'i have to protect her from danger' attitude anyway). He does admit that she was an excellent fbi agent but still, he's not respecting her opinions.

Now this is where my hate for Raye shines through like

"once you pop up some of my babies, that habit won't pop up anymore" ~Raye Penber, probably, i wish i was exaggerating

Raye is unbelievably dismissive of Naomi here. Not only does he not take her concerns seriously, he also follows it up with a 'joke' about directing her intelligence towards being his future wife. Now, I do believe that Naomi wanted to quit her job too but that doesn't make it okay for Raye to y'know treat Naomi like this. And Naomi (being genuinely apologetic) politely chuckles it off.

I think this brings us to an important aspect of her character: she has a sort of passive attitude. She is not that assertive imo instead preferring to be compliant and yielding. She values harmony in her relationships & avoids conflicts by being agreeable (at least with Raye).

Then Kira happens to Raye Penbar and other FBI agents. I find it interesting how these panels are placed next to each other:

These panels are juxtaposed to each other to perhaps show us that while killing the FBI agents may be like a game to Kira & L, there are real stakes involved for those related to Kira's victims- they become pawns in Kira & L's game-: Naomi being the prime example, who is shown grieving Raye's death.

She is intelligent enough to deduce that Raye was murdered by Kira.

Now instead of wallowing in her misery (remember what Ryuk said about women being tough in crisis? yeah this is what's happening here), the former FBI agent picks herself up, gathers her wits + composure, and gets ready to investigate.

We're then shown panels of Naomi travelling alone. I want you to remember that the emotional wound of losing her fiancé is still fresh & forefront in her mind (trying to catch Kira is a very close second). Even if her thoughts are not depicted (her ride to Shinjuku is deathly silent: with neither dialogue nor thoughts- meant to express how she deals with her grief- Naomi takes action and does so quietly), we get an idea of how she feels.

Alone. Torn between feeling lonely/helpless yet determined to catch the murderer who killed the man she loved. Still, she perseveres.

And she gets info from the bus conductor, that there were six passengers other than Raye during the bus-hijack. She figures that since Kira must've been someone out of those six people, Kira may be living somewhere near that bus route. It's a small lead but a lead nonetheless.

Naomi also infers that Kira is able to kill people by causes other than heart attacks too. More importantly, she is of utmost confidence that her finding IS a fact which means she wouldn't be shook off that belief any time soon. Which is really, really bad for Kira as it narrows down the list of Kira suspects considerably well.

I'm gonna focus on Naomi's POV (you'll know why later):

_____________________________________________________________

She enters the NPA building and the receptionists are being much help: saying that there's nobody on the task force here despite her appointment with them, which was made the previous day + asking her to just leave a message when she insists on meeting the task force personally.

This is important to her. Why are they being so difficult? She'd had an incredibly long day, her fiancé is dead and only she seems to have a clue of Kira's powers extend to killing people by causes other than heart attacks. She absolutely needs to tell this clue to the Task Force. If only somebody actually listened to her. (Even Raye, when he was alive, refused to do that).

Then a young guy, who introduces himself as the son of the task force Chief, comes in and talks with the receptionists about a case he had helped solve in the past. Whatever. That information does not help her in the slightest. She came here for one purpose and one purpose only: speak to the Task Force. Why are the receptionists so warm towards him while being so useless to her? And then the boy says something interesting:

He (if she heard correctly) may be able to beat L in solving the Kira case. He's definitely got her attention now. Either he's way too confident or there may be a degree of truth in his statement (well, they did just say how he helped them solve a case when he was a high schooler). Still, it's not like this guy can help her catch Kira when he's not even in the task force, right?

She's just about to mentally dismiss him when:

...he shares valuable information with her- something which the receptionists haven't (even if they had their reasons) and even better, offers to help her (he's the first person to do so ever since Raye died). He chooses to trust her (he had no reason to do that but does so anyway maybe due to the goodness of his heart? (she doesn't know- still he has helped her out a great deal already)).

It feels weird accepting his help but the boy is very polite + willing to help so she does. And offers him her sincerest thanks.

He also seems to think that Kira has greater powers than people think. That surprises her.

To think this young guy has deduced something which she had too...she chooses to confide in him a little (not so much, just a little without details, just as vague as his statement was) that that's why she's here.

The stranger tells his name. Light Yagami. And asks for hers. She's not taking any chances. Raye died because of giving his ID to someone in the bus (who, she's sure, was Kira) and while this kid seems relatively harmless, she's cautious. She has prepared for this. So she gives him an alias. Shoko Maki.

It seems she hadn't heard the end of his deductions. According to him, Kira can also control people's actions before they die- and she finally has someone intelligent enough, trustworthy enough (he trusts her AND has helped her out a lot) who is willing to listen that she cracks, offering him the final piece of the info she has puzzled out: that Kira can kill by causes other than heart attacks.

More information trickles out her (the kid, Light Yagami- she reminds herself- is surprisingly great at putting her at ease)...she tells him about her fiancé meeting Kira before his death. He's silent. When asked about it, he tells her it is due to the shock of hearing that.

Light is a patient listener, asking her details, offering his views on the matter so she doesn't mind telling him everything she has concluded thus far with utter conviction:

He's initially skeptical of course:

Still, he agrees that it's worth investigating into and that's what matters to her.

After thinking about it for a while, he informs her that he's convinced of her theory. Not only does he take her seriously, he also takes notes of the details of the incident.

Light has been as useful as a person in his position could have been and she's really grateful. She wishes to tell the task force herself so she heads back to the NPA.

He's still following her. Maybe he's doing this out of politeness? She tells him that she'll be fine on her own and thanks him for all his help. She turns. The kid approaches her again.

Only to tell her why the members of the task force were said to be absent.

Now she's suspicious. Why does this kid know so much about this investigation which ought to be kept secret from the general public? So she asks him. Only to get hit by this bombshell:

He is, if he's telling the truth, a member of the task force. Well, that explains a lot.

He tells us that all the members of the task force have been hand-picked by L.

Then she doesn't need to go back to the NPA, as she has already spoken to Light who, by his own admission, is a member of the task force which means her insights will be passed on to L.

Now that she knows that L selected Light himself, she allows herself to trust the kid enough (as she completely trusts L) to tell him that she worked with L on a case 2 years ago when she was in the FBI.

Naomi reveals that she'd been reluctant to trust the police and even the task force compared to L who has her complete trust (her plan was to ask them to let her speak to L directly, i.e., she didn't even want the task force to know her insights). Light asks her then why did she tell him something which should've been for L's ears only.

She gives him her reason.

She feels that Light & L are similar somehow (I think it's her gut feeling) and since she trusts L, she also, kind of, trusts this kid as he reminds him of L.

Then, something crazy happens. He asks her if she would like to join the investigation... She is flabbergasted, to say the least. She had come thinking that she'd be lucky if she got to talk to L directly but joining the task force herself?

Still, she has to admit the kid is nothing if not convincing. She feels indecisive. She doesn't know what to do; she's been feeling lost since Raye died. They were in Japan for a short while only. Hell, they were going to get married & get settled permanently in the USA. And now none of it was possible.

Raye was dead. She had to accept that.

What should she do?

But when the kid brings up how she's still a young beautiful woman for this dangerous investigation, she finds her doubts shattering and her resolve hardening. She realizes that she has gotten a new purpose now.

With her fiancé gone, she's got nothing left to lose anymore. Getting Kira (who was responsible for his death) is the only thing that matters to her anymore, as she says in her outburst. She'd do anything, regardless of risks to her life, to make sure that Kira is caught.

She's very determined now to join the investigation and requests Light for the same. He asks her some proof of her identification.

She hesitates, but feels this can't be helped: she reasons to herself, as she apologizes for giving out a fake name earlier. He praises her carefulness. And she gives him her driving license. He asks her some details about the time she was in the FBI. And keeps glancing at his watch strangely often enough to prompt her to ask him why:

He, once again, looks down at his watch as he replies.

He is Kira.

Light Yagami is Kira.

She is horrified, with realization dawning at her eyes that she has already given him her real name, and is filled with dread of what is to come.

And just an instant later, she turns sharply (not unlike clockwork) away from him. She feels as if she's in a trance. He is speaking something to her.

What's the matter?

An answer comes unbidden to her lips, as if that's what she's been supposed to say all along, like she has practiced this chat with him before,

"There's something I have to do."

The words feel foreign to her, and yet she feels that that's what she was destined to say anyway.

Didn't you want to talk to my father?

The words are a blur as she replies mindlessly.

"No. I have nothing to say to him."

_____________________________________________________________

...well, that. was. Dark.

No, really, it's so fucked up how Light taunts Naomi in her final moments that's why I hate him during this scene.

But anyway, I wrote those 1.4k words talking from only Naomi's POV so that we may understand why she allows herself to trust Light.

I think the argument of her trusting Light "that easily" is uh... debatable? If you pay attention to the plot, it's not that hard to believe that Naomi comes eventually to trust Light.

I think people take this panel at its face value...

...which is just Light self-congratulating himself AFTER he got Naomi's real name (only to think 'that was a close call...' in the next panel itself) like? You guys, don't fall into his trap thinking that Naomi trusted him way too easily.

This guy cognitive-restructures his way out of every setback. Just because Light wants to convince himself that it was that easy to overcome this setback of a woman, doesn't mean you have to be fooled into thinking the same as Light too. This is just his hindsight-bias talking.

We know how hard it was for him to figure out a way to get Naomi's real name after she gave him an alias (while being as cool as a cucumber too). Do not forget that before you chide Naomi for being too naive (yes she IS a little naive (y'know the trusting L a 100 percent? after working with him through a computer screen?) but we shouldn't blame her for giving Light her real name). She was being careful all along.

Until Light, with his genius social skills (remember he's exceedingly polite & helpful + just. a. Kid in Naomi's eyes), focused all his intelligence to achieve his goal of getting Naomi reveal her real name and succeeded as he's an excellent manipulator and got luck on his side while Naomi's degree of luck is exceedingly low.

Also remember that Naomi is freshly grief-stricken and this polite kid is the first one to stop and listen to her (+ agree with her respectfully). And then too she gave him an alias. But was forced to give out her real name because the situation called for it.

(I don't put much stock in htr13 stats but I think we can safely conclude that it's correct about Naomi lack of good luck. Also, she dislikes stalkers and Raye stalked Light (yes he was just doing his job but still you have to admit it's a lil funny that she was gonna marry a stalker- ok I'm done now with the htr13 discussion)). Moving on!

After Naomi's death (she was only 28 at that time), L accepts the phone call from her parents reporting her as missing and comes to know that she's Raye Penber's fiancé. L finds her name familiar and has Watari look her up, to find that she arrested the preparator of the LABB case, which reminds him that he worked with her on that case.

When Aizawa & Matsuda suggest that she may have killed herself after hearing news about her fiancé, L disagrees with them saying that the Naomi Misora he knew had great inner strength and was an excellent FBI agent. He thinks that she's try to go after Kira (and he's not wrong).

And that's all the info about her that the manga canon offers us.

In conclusion, I think Naomi is very intelligent yet a little gullible/trusting of people (she chooses to believe in the good of the people methinks), polite, quiet, introverted, a tad passive, and tremendously emotionally tough (seriously tho, she's in grief sure, and that makes her vulnerable to Light's tactics to get her to trust him & all that but it takes guts to go after a killer who can kill just by knowing your name & face just after he killed your future husband).

Canon!Naomi is far more complex than the girlbossified fanon version of her and I love her <3

[songofthesibyl]

The last interview excerpt I want to post is where I finally found the domestic abuse victim resource info posted. It’s in a special edition of ACOFAS, at the end of the interview—so, it is not in other versions of the novella. I don’t necessarily want my views or interpretations fed to me. But I wanted to get more insight on where the author was coming from apart from pithy sound bites, and got this relatively nuanced take on Tamlin. To keep in mind, however, the books are not about him, nor is she making excuses for him (considering the info at the end and all):

“But with Tamlin, I knew I needed to make their romance believable in the first book. She had to fall in love with him, and fall in love with him while not quite seeing the red flags. After all, it was the first time in her life that she’s ever been in love and felt like someone was taking care of her. Feyre had always needed to take care of everyone—her sisters, her father—and to suddenly be in a place of luxury, where now she isn’t the caretaker but is instead being cared for…that’s a situation, at least for me, where I think it’s easy to imagine how someone would fall in love with Tamlin. After all, he was the first person to ever prioritize her.

But I also knew that whatever happened Under the Mountain to Feyre and to Tamlin would really break her—and break them. Prythian’s not our modern world. They don’t have therapy. They have magic, but they don’t possess some of the resources that we do in our modern world, or even the vocabulary to be able to talk about trauma and PTSD the way we can.”

On the importance of tackling mental illness, depression, and PTSD in her characters:

“I never wanted Feyre and Rhys, or even Tamlin, to have all their suffering swept under the carpet. To be magically happy again, because that’s not how it works. Maybe some people can just keep going, but for a lot of people, myself included, sometimes those traumas linger and need to be faced and healed.

In Mist and Fury, Tamlin doesn’t do that and it destroys him.”

She goes on to say it almost destroyed Feyre too, and went on to describe Feyre and Rhys’ healing journeys.

I think Tamlin is meant to be a foil in many ways—not all of which succeed for me—but if that healing is the central theme of ACOMAF, and the original trilogy in general as she says, then Tamlin is also a foil in this very important way. He doesn’t have a healing journey because he does not face these things—she said he is destroyed. It shows what can happen when one doesn’t face things, and that to me is the central conflict of his character—that avoidance, that depressive, fatalistic aspect of his thinking. He disassociates after killing the Bogge, in a scene very similar to one in Jean Cocteau’s La Belle et La Bête; he is ashamed after killing the Naga, and I think having to perform the Great Rite as well. Instead of dealing with it he avoids and runs away and bottles it up. His first real love might have been Feyre, just as the author says Tamlin was Feyre’s, and he was desperate to hold onto it—but he ultimately wasn’t in a place to have that be a healthy relationship.

The scene mentioned above from Jean Cocteau’s La Belle et La Bête in which Belle observes Beast walking down the hallway in a kind of trance.

These kinds of characters have always fascinated me—not necessarily at the expense of the protagonists, but in addition to them. I don’t think they are necessarily misunderstood good people—often they aren’t really good people at all—but that spark of good, the high ideals that they fail at, becoming “the very thing they swore to destroy”—all of these things are very interesting to me. Most often these characters are dismissed as whiny and boring and bad. But even as failures, as antagonists and sometimes even villains, I like to know what motivates them, how they fail, the consequences and regret—and yes, the hope they might get better. But these are often tragic characters, as Tamlin most likely will be. That doesn’t make him any less interesting or compelling to me.

[sluttymimikyu]

Posting an old OC info lol

Here I am, posting an oc I had for some time, bcz, why not? (kill me, it's too cringey 💀)

I don't have a drawing or anything yet so I'm just going to post some things. It's an HorrotTale! Version of my principal oc. I had the idea and I wanted to do it hehe (And since mi principal oc is a mf pokemon, its like a crossover or smth, I'm not sure-)

Well, first we have the appearance, at least how it looks in some parts, not too detailed. In this AU, HT! Mimi (Or just Chomps) is twice times taller than an average human male, basically : the goddamn thing towers over you.

She has A slim body covered in dirty and fluffy black fur, what makes her camouflage in forests pretty easily in the dark, since is a nocturnal predator. Has sharp teeth, something similar like a lion's teeth, helping her to eat raw flesh easily, same thing with her claws, having five sharp claws in the front paws and four on the rear. This is to slash her victims with less difficulty as well. She once had a tail, but since in the HorrorTale AU food was something not so easy to find, she ate her tail in a fit of hunger.

Her eyes are big with black iris and pupils (it depends, when she's acting in her instincts, her pupils will glow in red) and has nocturnal vision.

Now there's a certain detail. Chomps not only is dangerous for her claws and teeth, but for her tongue. Just as if she was a chameleon, she can like, stretch and catch with her tongue her prey in long distances. The tongue can stretch up to 2 m (I'm still trying to fix this a bit).

Now when it comes to what she "wears", she uses an old cloak with hoodie, wearing it all the time since her fur may warm her up enough, but she wears it in case of storms or others. Also she uses a mask, half of it broken in the mouth area, so she doesn't had to took it off while eating. Her hood hide her ears, what helps her to make less intelligent preys think that she has less auditory capacity. She can hear as good as an average cat, what helps her to find her preys easily.

Her behavior now, is kind of different from what her appearance shows. Chomps tends to be pretty docile and calm with other monsters and humans included, however, that changes the moment she starts to feel hunger. Her body got used to hunt, since in the underground almost wasn't any source of food, so it became part of her instinct. She can bear hunger for a limited time before she starts to feel the need of hunt and eat. Normally Chomps tends to bite monsters, except in their vital organs or stuff, since that would kill them instantly and become into dust.

But besides her instincts, she can still form bonds. One of her friends or "partner in crime" would be Horror Sans, providing her some of his food, Chomps doing the same and protecting him and Papyrus most of the time. Chomps acts almost human, a bit wild or beast like but still conserving some of her humanity before becoming what she is now.

Welp that's all the info I have about this OC, I should make a drawing of Chomps sometime, so you at least know a bit better how she looks and stuff aside from the horrible description I gave :D.

Anyways, just wanting to share this haha.

[reidgraygubler]

the threat is gone (spencer reid/reader)

Title: the threat is gone

Requested: yes, was a request someone sent to @imagining-in-the-margins, but I took it off her hands :) (Reader is being threatened by an unsub and is given safety instructions by reid that she disobeys out of boredom, so when the threat is over she tries to joke/lie/argue her way out of trouble but he’s in total dead serious fbi interrogation mode and calmly hauls her over his lap and doesnt stop til she’s crying hard and has told him everything and then he comforts her n from there whatever)

Couple: spencer reid/fem!reader 

Category: angst, slight smut (either way, minors dni)

Content Warning: swearing, dishonesty, being spanked (to the point of tears), aftercare, D/s dynamic, reader being a brat, usual criminal minds case stuff, post prison & post series!reid, implied age gap (10 years),  use of a safeword

Word Count:  3,901

Summary:  Spencer sends Reader to a safe house after she’s threatened by an unsub. Reader decides to take her fate in her own hands and leave the safety. When Spencer finds out what she did, there’s hell to pay

A/N: happy easter to those who celebrate! pom (aka @imagining-in-the-margins​ )posted this in her discord and said if someone had any ideas for this, we could have it. and i loved the request so i took it off her hands. also thank you to @newportonmymind for beta reading this for me!! thank you all so much for the support! i really do appreciate it. check out my masterlist!

{***}{***}{***}

“Anderson and a cop are going to take you to a safe house,” Spencer looked down at me. I shifted on my feet as I looked up at him. My heart was in my throat. I didn’t think this unsub was that bad. 

“I’m not going to a safe house, Spencer. Being here is probably the safest place I could be. By your side… With the team,” I stepped up to him as I grabbed his hands. He looked down at me, a certain frustration in his eyes. 

“His victims are too much like you. We’re not taking that chance, I’m not taking that chance. Do you understand?” Spencer’s voice was low as he spoke. I swallowed roughly as he placed his hands on my shoulders.

“Yeah, yeah, fine, I understand,” I scoffed and shrugged his hands off my body. Spencer looked at me, watching as I collected my belongings. 

“Please, just trust me,” his voice was soft. I looked up at him, putting my bag across my body. 

“Yeah, of course, Spence, I trust you, wholeheartedly,” I smiled at him. He didn’t believe me. Granted, I didn’t exactly believe myself either. Why would I? I’m being snappy and sarcastic, and dismissive to everything he said. “I’ll be safe. Anderson and a random cop will be with me. Do not worry,” I went up to him before pressing my lips to his. 

“It won’t be for long. We’ll be back home before you even know it,” Spencer smiled, resting his hands on my hips before kissing me again. “You’ll listen to me and Anderson, understand,” he kept his tone soft and quiet, but still held authority.

“Yeah, yeah! My life is now in his hands. I wholeheartedly trust you and Anderson,” I whispered as I kept my eyes on him. He looked down at me, his honey-like hazel eyes watching every detail on my face. Part of me wondered why he stared at me the way he did. Was he memorizing every little detail of my face, just in case something happened to me?  Nothing will happen to me, that’s the whole reason why he’s having me go to a safe house with Anderson. 

“I love you,” his voice wavered slightly with his words. It was clear he was trying to not let his emotions show, but was also obviously losing. 

“I love you too,” I smiled before pressing his lips to mine for the briefest moment.

“Sorry to interrupt,” a voice came from the doorway, forcing Spencer and I to part. I swallowed roughly before turning to look at the door, seeing Anderson leaning against the doorframe. “But we’re ready to go,” he looked between Spencer and me.

“I’ll see you soon,” Spencer lifted his hand to my face, gently holding my cheek in his large palm. I swallowed roughly and nodded. “And don’t forget your promise. Follow your orders, and be a good girl,” he whispered the last part so only I would hear it.

“Ye-yeah, yeah… We’ll see you soon,” I repeated what he said before kissing him one last time. As much as I didn’t want to, I stepped away from Spencer’s body and followed closely behind Anderson. The cop that was behind us held a jacket over my body to hide my identity and keep me hidden from anyone unsub. 

“We’re going to stop at your place before we go to the safehouse, so you can get some clothes, toiletries and other belongings,” Anderson looked over at me once we got settled in the car. I glanced over at him and nodded.

“Yeah, okay,” I swallowed roughly and nodded, “Will we be able to stop at a store too?” 

“Everything you should need, food and entertainment, should be at the safehouse when we arrive,” Anderson backhandedly answered my question. I furrowed my eyebrows as I stared at him.

The rest of the drive to the apartment was tense and silent. It was almost like we were in a library. Any sound or comment that was made, any breath that was breathed, felt wrong and I should be executed for it. But, that would kind of defeat the purpose of me going to this safehouse, right?

“Be quick, we only have a few minutes. We have to be on the road before dark,” Anderson looked at me as we both walked up the steps to the apartment complex. I glanced over at him and nodded lightly.

“Will do,” I nodded as I pulled out the keys and unlocked the building’s door. Anderson stayed standing outside the building, by the door, as I went inside.

The apartment that I shared with Spencer was a mess, but to be fair it was mostly Spencer’s mess. Books, papers and files scattered over any surface. And if there was an exposed surface, it was occupied by a coffee cup. At the office and on the road, Spencer is neat and organized, but at home, when his walls come down and once he’s in the zone, the organization goes out the window. Teaching tended to take a back seat; the papers that littered the room (and office and bedroom) consisted of papers he has/is supposed to grade.

I think the only organized room was our bedroom. Even though no one else ever entered that room, he always had it pristine. He knew where everything was, and if one thing was out of place or out of line, he’d know in an instant. We had come to a shared agreement that the bedroom was for bedroom activities only. If we could keep work stuff out of our room, we would. Our room was the only truly the only place we had control, hence the cleanliness and order of it.

I was quiet as I grabbed my backpack. Shoving my clothes into it, I muttered strings of profanities. Spending time in stupid safe house sounded like pure hell, absoulte boredom. Why would he think I would be okay at a safehouse? I could be useful at the office, and safer too. What’s safer than being with the team, not to mention with Spencer?

With a deep and resigned sigh, I threw the straps of my backpack over my shoulders. Anything to make Spencer happy, I suppose. I was a brat, but this didn’t seem like something to fight him on. 

I quietly exited my home and went back outside, where Anderson was still waiting. 

“Ready,” I looked over at him, feeling a fake smile grow across my lips. Anderson looked at me and nodded before taking the lead back to the cop car. I looked over at him and nodded as the car finally jerked forward and took off. 

If I thought the drive to the apartment was bad… The drive to the safehouse was worse. If I had known it was going to be a 1 hour drive, I would have fought harder. This time around, I could sense that Anderson was trying to make some sort of an effort to make me feel better about this situation. But it was clear it was a fail of an attempt too. He kept talking about the things he enjoyed rather than common interest, or small talk. Yes, Spencer could do the same, but at least his factoids were adorable or at least relevant.

I almost felt bad, because I had honestly stopped listening to everything he said. I’m not sure when I stopped listening, sometime around the time he started talking about baseball. I take back what I said about Spencer, this was far worse. I swear, I actually liked listening to Spencer ramble on and on when he info dumps. But Anderson… 

“Anderson,” I looked over at him, cutting him off as he spoke, “Please… For the love of God… I know you love baseball… But you have got to stop talking for five fucking minutes,” I took a deep breath as I stared at him. He looked back at me before closing his mouth and nodding. 

Thankfully, the rest of the drive was silent. I almost couldn’t believe how quiet it was. And, I almost couldn’t think of a time where it was silent for such a long period of time. I suppose in the moment I was thankful that things were turning out the way they were.

“Here’s your bedroom,” Anderson spoke cooly as we walked past a room. I looked over at him, feeling my exhaustion spread through my body. “Rest all you want. There’s some books that Spencer sent over that you could read. As well as movies you could watch,” he looked over at me. I looked back at him and nodded.

“I think I’ll do that… Everything that’s happened today… I’m exhausted,” I laughed nervously as I entered the room. Anderson looked at me and nodded, watching as I closed the door. I pressed my back to the door once it was shut, clicking it locked with a sigh. 

My eyes scanned across the bland room. It consisted of a bed, a night stand, a lamp, and a window. Of course, all safe houses are basically empty homes. Fake houses that looked lived in, when in reality they were nothing.

But then I looked back at the window… We were only an hour away from the apartment… Surely I could...

“Like hell I’m going stay in this stupid safe-house with Anderson,” I scoffed before rushing over to the window. I threw it open so fast I was worried I’d broken it. I didn’t have every step of my escape planned out, but I knew I had to get out of here. I knew I could think on my feet, so the spontaneity didn’t faze me.

I had to be quick as I had to make sure that Anderson didn’t clue into what I was doing. Because the second he knew that I wasn’t in the the safe house anymore, was the second Spencer knew, and then I’d be in big trouble -- worse than if the unsub were to catch me. 

“Okay, okay,” I whispered as I patted down my pockets, feeling for my phone and wallet, trusting that everything else that I needed would be in my bags. I’d be back by the end of this case. I wasn’t exactly running away, I was just getting away because this was stupid. The safest place I would have been in was with Spencer and the rest of the team. I knew that, and I knew Spencer just needed reminding that I was right.  

‘I wasn’t running away,’ I thought to myself as I looked out the window. It wasn’t a far jump. 3 yards at least. I wouldn’t get hurt by that, should I? 

I glanced over my shoulder, just making sure no one was watching me, before finally jumping out the window. I grunted when I landed on the ground. Then, I was off.

There was a coffee shop not far from the house. That was my destination. And then from there, I’d get an uber or taxi back home, or shopping, or someplace else. As long as I was away from danger, I was okay. 

I could feel a certain anxiety grow up my throat the further I got from the safe house. It wasn’t because I was afraid that I was going to get hurt. It was because of Spencer. I just wasn’t sure how he’d take to that news -- but I could take an educated guess. It was honestly a matter of time before I go-

Spencer Calling…

I stared at the screen, looking at the picture of Spencer and I at one of Rossi’s fabulous parties. I swallowed back my fear and anxiety, and took a deep breath of courage before pressing answer.

“Hel-”

“Where the hell are you!?” Spencer growled as his voice came through the speaker. Fear… Fear grew in the pit of my stomach, and it was hard to breathe. “I swear to God,”

“I’m fine! I’m safe…” I returned as my steps slowed on the sidewalk. I didn’t totally answer his question. I didn’t really want to tell him I was at a coffee shop 5 minutes away from the safe house. Because then he’d have Anderson on my ass in a second. 

“That doesn’t answer my question, and you know that,” Spencer snapped back. I froze in my tracks, my heart beating harder than I could control. “Where are you? Make me ask again and I won’t be nice,” 

“Spencer,” I started, my voice low and shaky, “I can’t tell you,” I shook my head. I could hear the breath of air that Spencer let out, and it only scared me more.

“If you’re not back at that safe house in 20 minutes, you will have the biggest punishment. Do you understand, Princess?” 

“I’ll be safe, Spencer,” I muttered. I stared at the ground for a long time as we both stayed silent. It was hard to say how long passed, but it was a while. “Bye Spencer,”

“If you hang up, I swear,” he started but I didn’t get to feel the end of it before I hung up. I swallowed roughly before continuing my trek towards the coffee shop as my phone buzzed continuously.

{***}{***}{***}

“Where were you again?” Spencer asked, just to ask. He didn’t forget. The man he is? He’d never forget. Especially something like this.

“Coffee shop and Library, I thought you would just have Garcia track me.” I mumbled as I waited for him to unlock the door. My stomach was slowly churning the longer he took to unlock the door. Although, I was okay with how slow he was. The slower he took, the longer I had before the punishment.

Spencer huffed out a breath of air and shook his head. I stared at him, watching as the door finally unlocked and was pushed open.

“Do you have any idea how irresponsible that was?! How… How much danger you were in?!” Spencer shouted as we both entered the apartment. I glanced at him as I made my way to the couch.

"C'mon, I was probably safer at the library and coffee shop anyways! Bastard knew I’d go to a safe house and our apartment," I shrugged as I flopped onto the couch. Spencer looked down at me like he was the parent reprimanding their disobedient child. Granted, that’s kind of how our dynamic was when we weren’t at work or it was a normal day. I do have to admit though, I was wrong for not going where he wanted me to.

"You directly disobeyed me. Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?! How could you be so reckless!? You have no idea how scared I was when I heard you weren’t at the safe house,” he shouted, but as he got closer to the end of his sentence, his words got quieter and his voice cracked. I looked up at him, the feeling of guilt suddenly eating away in my stomach. 

“I’m sorry… I don’t know what else you want me to say or do, Spencer…” I muttered before shrugging. I glanced at him as he stood on the other side of the coffee table. He rolled the sleeves of his shirt, quietly muttering something as he went. “Spencer, look, I said I’m sorry… I’m home and I’m safe…” I watched him with anxiety bubbling in my stomach.

"You disobeyed me, put yourself in danger,," his voice was low as he stood up. I watched as he walked over. The hairs on the back of my neck were instantly standing, and I could feel goosebumps grow all over my arms. “Sorry just isn’t going to cut it,” he looked down at me. I looked up at him, and I knew exactly what he was about to do. So my next question was redundant.

"Wh-what are you doing?" I looked up at him. My heart was suddenly in my stomach as he lowered to my height. I tried to look anywhere but him, but that was hard when he placed his finger under my chin, coaxing me to look at him. I tried my hardest to not look up at him, but it was so hard to not look at him. He was right there and he was my favorite person to look at. But, to be fair, when he was mad it made me a little nervous.

"Well, you decided to go and break my instruction. And you know what happens to little girls who disobey their rules," he kept his voice low as he spoke. I dropped my gaze to my lap as he sat beside me. A shiver shot down my spine as I locked eyes with him… In that moment, I knew I was done for...  

"Wait, Spencer," I exclaimed as he grabbed me by the waist and pulled me so I was lying across his lap. I lifted my head and looked up at him with wide eyes “Spencer! Spencer! Wait! Please!” I struggled as I squirmed in his lap. I wanted so badly to just slide out of his arms, but the way he held me made it damn near impossible to slide away from him.

“I’ve asked for an explanation and you didn’t provide one,” he spoke cooly. He kept his hands on my back, and not going any lower than my hips. I took a moment, struggling to breathe as I thought of why I left the safe house and Anderson. 

“I was just bored, okay? I was bored. And thought it was stupid that you had me leave the office and the team to go to a safe house,” I tried to wiggle from his grip again, but failed when his hold on me tightened. I swallowed roughly, hoping my truth telling would work, but I had a feeling it wouldn’t.

“Is this the truth?” Spencer asked, his tone somewhat overly nice. I bit my lips together and nodded lightly.

“It’s the truth, I swear, Spencer, it’s the truth,” I whispered. I knew telling the truth would lessen the harshness of his punishment. And, maybe it would. He does know when to be gentle.

“I’m happy you gave me the truth. But that still doesn’t mean it was okay to disobey me, you know that, don’t you Princess?” he whispered as he brushed down my hair. I let out a deep sigh before reluctantly nodding. 

“I know,” It was inevitable at this point. I owned up to my mistake, and now I need to own up to the punishment. And I knew exactly what was going to happen. 

“I’ll go easy on you, okay?” He kept his voice low. He knew if his voice was any louder, I’d instantly back away from all of this. “I think ten strikes is appropriate... Do you agree?” 

I would rather have less, and Spencer knew that too.  But if I argued he’d only add more. Which was worse than the ten he already offered. I knew that after he’d be okay and it’d be over with.  Fuck, I already wanted it to be over.

“Yes, sir,” I sighed deeply. I lifted my hips enough for him to pull my pants down over my bottom. My chest tightened as I tried to take a deep, shaky breath as I anticipated the first strike. 

My ears could just barely pick up the soft rush of air from Spencer’s hand before it landed hard against my bottom. I took a sharp breath of air and dropped my head down to the cushion.

“One…” I whispered as my hands gripped his pants tightly. I swallowed roughly as I tried to steady my breathing. Spencer gave me a moment to breathe before giving me two and three in a quick go. Four came after a brief moment. But then… Five was when it started getting shaky for me. Tears had started rolling on my face between three and four, but it didn’t start becoming trouble till five.

“Five! I understand! I swear! I’m sorry!” I cried out once his hand connected hard with my ass for the 5th time. And, okay, that one hurt, like a lot. I couldn’t tell if it was the sting that hurt, or the repeated assault on the sore spot… But I knew it hurt. With each strike, I could almost feel Spencer’s anger and anxiety. I definitely felt bad about doing what I did.

I don’t know if I’ll make it to ten...

“Just five more,” Spencer spoke softly as his hand carefully massaged my butt-cheek. I could tell he started feeling bad. But, we both knew he had to follow through with it. 

His hand whizzed through the air and smacked against my ass. A loud crack came through the air, and a sharp gasp fell from my lips. And, that was it. I definitely don’t think I’ll make it to ten. This was it. 

“Buttercup!” I shouted as my eyes snapped open. I could still feel the tears burning down my cheeks. Before Spencer could make contact for the 7th time, he stopped. He kept both his hands away from my body as I moved away from him. With that, we were both silent for a minute, as I tried to recalibrate my breathing. 

Spencer looked over at me, sensing his sudden change in demeanor. His anger and anxiety was gone and replaced with a guilty panic. The atmosphere changed.

“Are you okay?” Spencer asked after a minute had passed. I was, painfully, sitting on the next cushion away from him. I needed my space. I bit my lips and nodded as I roughly wiped my cheeks. 

“I’m okay,” I whispered looking back at him. I watched as he slowly lifted his hands, offering both of them for me to hold. I stared at them for a while before just falling into his sigh, a shaky breath, almost a sob, going through my body.

“I got you; you’re ok, you’re safe. I was so worried. You have to understand how dangerous it was for you to just leave like that. I thought I was never going to see you again,” Spencer whispered, bringing a hand to run over my hair. I bit my lips and nodded.

“No, I know… I’m sorry for… I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you. I don’t even know… I should have just stayed at the safe house,” I whispered as I pressed my face into his shoulder. I felt as he let out a deep sigh and wrapped his arms around me, resting and hand on my lower back. 

I was happy he didn’t mention how I told him the truth a little bit ago. My body could feel the exhaustion from the whole day. It wasn’t just the punishment, or the little bit of arguing, or even the running away. It was everything combined. I needed sleep soon. Spencer knew that too.

“Why don’t we go into our room and cuddle,” he whispered as he continued stroking my hair. I sniffled lightly before laughing. Just like he was reading my mind. He knows me better than anyone. “I just want you safe in my arms.”

“Yeah, yeah, I think I’d like that a lot, actually,” I looked up at him. Spencer smiled at me before lightly pressing his lips to mine. 

if you want to be a part of a taglst or have any comments about this one shot, let me know here

taglist: @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto, @thebluetint

[searchingwardrobes]

Ivory Runs Red: 5/6

First off, massive thanks to the @cssns​, my beta @demisexualemmaswan​, and my artist @cocohook38​. Cocohook created this amazing cover art, and she is working on something else too to go with this story. The rough sketch made my jaw drop, so I can’t wait for ya’ll to see it!

This part  is going to be a little long, but I need to address something that I got multiple comments about. Just bear with me; this is the only way I can think to clear things up. I was really surprised to see that some people were angry at David and Mary Margaret for not doing anything to find Emma and/or "allowing" her relationship with Neal. Others simply expressed things along the lines of "I hope you explain what David and Mary Margaret did about all this." The reason this reaction surprised me so much is because I thought it was clear that they HAD done something. Why would the Golds need to get rid of police files if the Swans never reported Emma missing? Why would issues of the newspaper be missing from the library if Emma's disappearance wasn't reported on? Obviously, David and Mary Margaret did something! As for Neal, they had no idea Emma was seeing him. If you'll recall, in a previous chapter, Emma told Killian she had to sneak out at night to meet Neal. So that wasn't Snowing's fault either. Also, how would any of these characters know what David and Mary Margaret did or didn't do for their daughter? This is almost a hundred years later, and Emma's memories are dulled from being a ghost for so long. The only way I could spell out clearly how Snowing handled their daughter's disappearance would be some sort of convoluted info-dump, and I didn't want to destroy the tone and mood of the story to do that. But just so everyone knows: Yes, Emma's parents were devastated. They did everything in their power to find her, never giving up hope (which is so in character for them!). They died still believing she was either still out there or that crimes against her had gone unpunished. It broke their hearts. The Golds spread rumors that Emma was some kind of slut who ran away with a guy, and the people of Storybrooke overall thought the Swans had gone crazy. So there it is, that's the back story that I just couldn't figure out how to fit in the story, lol.

I'm not mad at the questions, to be clear. I was just surprised by them. I guess I blame the show for ruining these two as parents the last couple of seasons. Maybe that's why everyone jumped on them so fast. I was also honestly worried that ya'll would be upset with me for not addressing the topic, hence this long explanation! No one was rude by any means, so don't go trying to defend me from nonexistent trolls, lol! My feelings have NOT been hurt. I simply wanted to address the questions that were asked and the misplaced anger toward Snowing. (Not anger towards me - but fictional characters!)

Okay, now that I've cleared all THAT up, let's get on with the next chapter, shall we? And I'll go ahead and warn you: this is gonna hurt . . .

Summary: When ebony flashes gold, blood runs cold. When ivory runs red, you’ll be dead. Killian Jones had heard the old rhyme his entire life. Every child did in Storybrooke, Maine. They heard it whispered in the dark at sleepovers as children; taunted as a challenge as teenagers. Killian never believed it was actually true. Until that fateful night …

Rated M for graphic depictions of violence, abusive relationships, and major character death (I mean, it’s a ghost story ya’ll, people are dead. BUT I promise, there is a happy ending. Trust me? *peeks from around a corner*)

Length: 6 chapters, complete, updated every Friday

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four

Also on Ao3

Tagging the usuals: @snowbellewells​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ @kmomof4​ @xhookswenchx​ @let-it-raines​ @bethacaciakay​ @tiganasummertree​ @shireness-says​ @stahlop​ @scientificapricot​ @spartanguard​ @welllpthisishappening​ @resident-of-storybrooke​ @thislassishooked​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​ @kday426​ @ekr032-blog-blog​ @lfh1226-linda​ @ultraluckycatnd​ @nikkiemms @optomisticgirl​ @profdanglaisstuff​ @ohmakemeahercules​ @carpedzem​ @branlovestowrite​ @superchocovian​ @hollyethecurious​ @vvbooklady1256​ @winterbaby89​ @delirious-latenight-laughs​ @jennjenn615​ @snidgetsafan​ @itsfabianadocarmo​ @lassluna​ @distant-rose​ @courtorderedcake​ @winterbythesea​ @thesschesthair​ @killian-whump​ @thisonesatellite​ @batana54​ @it-meant-something​ @xsajx​ @therooksshiningknight​ @gingerchangeling​​

Chapter Five: Run

“You’ve got to tell them what you saw - what you’ve learned,” Killian pleaded. 

Graham shook his head, his curly hair falling in his eyes as he stared at the slender hands he clasped in his. His eyes were bloodshot, his jaw sported far more facial hair than it normally did, and Killian didn’t have to ask if he’d slept in the past forty-eight hours. 

“They won’t believe me.”

Killian’s jaw clenched in frustration. “But if I saw Emma, and you saw her, then maybe they’ll believe -”

“That Belle saw a ghost push Mike Gaston off the troll bridge? They’ll believe that? Really?” Graham let out a sarcastic, bitter laugh. “You really are just a naive kid if that’s what you're thinking.”

“But you’re a cop!”

“I’m still only nineteen! They’ll think we’re just over-imaginative teenagers.” Graham paused, reaching up with one hand to trace the curve of Belle’s cheek as she slept in her drug-induced prison. “That will land us in rooms just down the hall with our own IV full of an antipsychotic cocktail. How will I help her then?”

“You’ve fallen in love with her.” It wasn’t a question. 

Graham sighed. “How could I not? And how could he -” He broke off, his blue eyes flashing. “I’m not sorry he’s dead. If I’d been there and saw him hurt her -”

“Shh, I wouldn’t say things like that. Not here.”

Killian’s gaze fell to the bruises around Belle’s neck, and he didn’t blame Graham at all. It terrified him to think what could have happened if Emma hadn’t shown up.

“History repeats itself,” he murmured under his breath. 

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

Killian had scarcely arrived at the bridge when headlights blinded him. He turned away, blinking, stumbling, refusing to be stopped. 

“Emma! Emma!” he shouted. He tripped and dropped his flashlight. It broke as it hit the ground, rolling to the edge of the bridge. Now all he could see was ebony before him and radiant luminescence behind him. 

His palms scraped against the asphalt as Liam hauled him to his feet. His brother gripped his upper arms so tightly it was almost painful, and he gave him a brief shake. 

“You’ve got to stop this!”

Killian fought him. “I have to see her!”

Liam had always been broader than Killian with an unfair advantage in all their childhood tussles. Even now, Killian was no match for him as he lifted him bodily with one arm and hauled him over to his car. 

“You need help!” Liam literally tossed him into the backseat. 

“I’m not going home!” Killian tried to scramble out, but Liam just shoved him back inside. 

“Good, because I’m not taking you home.”

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

“Why won’t you be straight with us, kid?”

Killian glared at the detective with a cynical sneer. The psychiatrist on the cop’s left frowned at Killian’s attitude. The choice of words was cruel considering he was in a literal straightjacket. His vision of the two men was obscured by the long strands of dark hair before his eyes. Haircuts were apparently seen as a luxury on the psych ward. 

“I’ve answered all your questions,” Killian finally told them wearily, “you just don’t like what I had to say.”

“Because we want the truth,” the psychiatrist, Dr. Archie Hopper, said gently. He was clearly playing the part of “good cop.” Or “good doctor.” Whatever.

“I told you the truth.”

“There’s no such thing as ghosts.”

Killian snorted a laugh. “Tell that to Mike Gaston.”

The detective’s voice took on a harsh, warning tone. “Mike Gaston was the victim of murder.”

“The victim!” Killian cried, his voice snapping up. “What about the bruises he put on Belle? Or the fact that I nearly died when he tied me to that bridge!”

The detective’s lips curled up in a lewd sneer as he lit a cigarette. “If some horny teenager likes it a bit rough, that’s none of my business.”

Killian fought his bonds, his jaw clenching at the detective’s insinuation. He was as bad as Neal Gold, maybe worse. He had to be pushing fifty at least, and a pot belly strained at his button up shirt. His eyes widened as Killian raged.

“Bothers you though, I see.” He leaned forward. “Nobody blames you for wanting her, kid. Nobody blames you for being jealous. But murder? That’s a different story.”

“I told you I had nothing to do with that!”

The detective glanced at Dr. Hopper, and the soft spoken psychiatrist took over. “Killian, start at the beginning for us. What did Belle say when she called you that night?”

“I’m telling you, she didn’t call me, she didn’t come to my house. I saw her early that afternoon at the library. That was it. Then my brother got a phone call that there had been an accident, and we came to the hospital.”

“You and Belle were at the library together a lot,” Hopper said softly, “what did you two do there?”

Killian rolled his eyes. He hated the patronizing way the man asked the question. “We studied. Did our homework. We were friends.”

The detective snorted again, and Killian wanted to scream. “Drop the act, kid. You really expect us to believe that you spent all that time with her, all that time with a hot chick, and you never fucked her?”

Dr. Hopper recoiled at the foul language, and Killian thought his own jaw might actually break. 

“You’re just as much a misogynistic, narrow-minded, neanderthal as Mike Gaston.”

The detective grinned and slapped Dr. Hopper on the knee. “You were right, shrink, this kid’s smart.” He took another puff of his cigarette as he eyed Killian. “Smart enough to plan an elaborate murder with your knocked-up girlfriend?”

“That’s the most ridiculous - wait - did you say knocked up?”

“Hm,” the detective mused, leaning back in his chair and rubbing at his five o’clock shadow. “You didn’t know?”

Killian was horrified when a laugh slipped past his lips. Another bitter laugh followed, then another, until before he knew it, he was shaking with them. He was laughing hysterically while wearing a straightjacket. That thought made him laugh even more, and if he didn’t seem like a lunatic before, he sure as hell did now. 

“What the hell is so funny?” thundered the detective.

Killian’s laughter stopped abruptly and he leveled the man with an intense stare. “History repeating itself. That’s what’s so funny.”

A smile that he knew bordered on manic curled his lips. Yes, history had repeated itself, and this time, Emma Swan had won. 

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

They didn’t have enough to charge him, or Belle, or anyone else really with Gaston’s murder. It was officially declared an accident, and theoretically, Belle French and Killian Jones were free to move on. 

Killian wouldn’t say it was easy for Belle. She had severe trauma from that terrifying night, and she ended up losing the baby because of it. Nevertheless, she had Dr. Hopper’s patient help, her father’s support, and Graham’s unwavering devotion. Soon, though it would be a long time before she was truly healed, she was able to go home. 

Killian, on the other hand, didn’t really want to go home. For one, he, unlike Belle and Graham, refused to stop talking about Emma - refused to lie and say he made it up. He didn’t fault his friends for it; didn’t take it as a betrayal. He even understood their reasoning when they begged him to do the same and just play along, damn it. He simply couldn’t do it. Emma was too real, too precious. He knew her in a way they never would. He knew the feel of her skin, the taste of her lips. He wouldn’t - couldn’t - let that go.

The psych ward wasn’t so bad. The drugs numbed him to the point that he sailed on a sea of oblivion half the time. He’d stopped fighting, so there was no more straight jacket, no more bed straps. 

And she came to him. Sometimes the drugs meant he wasn’t lucid enough to really carry on a conversation. On those nights, she curled up next to him on the bed. She ran her fingers through his hair and caressed his cheeks. She pressed kisses to his lips, and sometimes he could respond in kind. 

Other times, though admittedly rare, they would talk. About everything and nothing at all. One night, they talked about their dreams for later, after high school, and suddenly Emma began to weep. 

“I know,” he soothed, brushing her forehead with a kiss, “you fear you can never have that. But maybe we can figure it out. If we somehow get the truth out. About your murder -”

Emma silenced him with a finger to his lips. “That isn’t it, Killian. It’s you. I have no more tomorrows but you can.”

His brow furrowed, and she sighed and soothed the lines away with the pad of her thumb. 

“But not if you keep holding onto me.”

His arms instinctively pulled her closer. “I’ll never let you go.”

She sighed, and sadness filled her eyes. She slipped out of his embrace and rose from the bed. Her skin grew white, her gown floated in an ethereal way at her feet. He frowned and scrambled to a sitting position. 

“I have to say goodbye,” she told him. She said it with an edge of discovery in her voice. Her lips turned up in a soft smile even as a tear slipped down her cheek. 

He shook his head and tried to reach for her, to leave the bed, but he had just enough drugs in his system to make his movements sluggish and ineffectual. 

“I won’t let you see me again.”

“No, Emma, please! I love you!”

“And I love you. That’s why I have to do this.” 

She was already fading away. Killian made a fist and slammed it into his thigh. Tears stung his eyes. 

“Be happy,” she told him, “for me.”

Then she was gone.

[darylandbethfanforever9]

Devil’s Backbone

Devil’s Backbone

Chapter 6 

Story Rating: Explicit, 18+ 

Warnings: Smut, violence, past flashbacks of sexual assault, descriptions of torture, racial hate and forced abortion. Not Tony Stark friendly.

Relationships: Bucky/OC, Steve/Natasha, Billy/Wanda/Grant, past Clint/Laura. eventual Clint/Yelena and Frank/Karen.

Summary: In the aftermath of the Blip, Bucky struggled to find his place among the world and the Avengers. However, when he is sent on a mission to Madripoor to investigate a young woman, he starts to realize that maybe his past isn’t too far behind him. Co-Written with WalkingPotterGirl14

"It was amazing, you guys. Absolutely." They had been on a video call with Bucky for about fifteen minutes now, starting to get some intake on his trip there and how everything had been going. But up until now, Steve had waited with a raised brow as Bucky described everything he had seen. "That sounds great, Buck," Steve chuckles a bit. "But there was a point of this mission." "Right, uh-" Bucky rubs the back of his neck a bit embarrassingly, chuckling. "Sorry. Sharon just knows what she's doing. I've never seen so much art and so many fancy people all in one sitting. But you're right. Sharon did direct me to the young woman that supposedly took up the Power Broker position." He pulls up photos and splays them onto the screen so they could see it. "I got some of these pictures last night before she left." Steve crosses his arms against his chest, shaking his head. "I can't believe this." "She looks just like Anastasia," Wanda remarks lightly. "See, you think that, but that's not her name – at least the one that she gave me isn't Anastasia. It's Maria Kapitonova. Interesting alias, but if it is her, she's certainly taking a different route than what I'm doing." "Did you learn anything else about her?" "Nothing that we didn't already know," Bucky states quietly. "Sharon told me that she is the one who's taken over the city, but she's dangerous, just as we suspected. She has morals and has laid down some rules but hasn't stopped herself from killing those who against them. Sharon said she's ended at least three so far. Something did sort of stand out to me for a moment though. I was talking with her and she said she moved to Madripoor to escape the cold from somewhere. If she WAS in Siberia, that would make sense." Sam rolls his eyes from where he stood. "There are a lot of cold places in the world, Bucky." "I know, I know, but it's curious, is all I'm saying." Steve sighs but nods. "Alright, at least we have that. You said you'd see her again?" "Yeah, we ah…kind of hit it off, in a way." At Steve's questioning response, he responds quickly. "Not like that, I just - I mean it seems she's willing to meet with me again outside of a party, so it'll be easier to get info." "Right," Steve chuckles, although a bit of him was curious. "Remember that this is a mission though, Buck." Bucky rolls his eyes. "I know, you don't have to remind me. I'll get the info you guys need." There was a loud meowing off screen and Bucky chuckles. "I gotta go. Alpine is being a little minx and wants some food." "Tell him that I say hi!" Wanda says, smiling. "I will," Bucky snickers before nodding at them. "I'll talk to you soon." They wave goodbye to him and he signals off the call, leaving them alone.

Ana lets out a soft sigh of content as she cooks up some dinner. While she did have someone that could cook for her, she preferred to cook her own food – usually for safety rather than convenience. She knew that there were several people who would most likely pay a chef to put poison in there. She wasn't about to let herself go down like that. As she starts to plate up her food, however, she pauses when she suddenly hears a crash from the living room. Quickly, she reaches into her cutlery drawer and grabs a knife, approaching quietly. "Hello?" She asks. No response.

She keeps her guard up as she ventures into the living room to see if anyone or something was in the living room. There was nothing aside from a card box having fallen on the glass coffee table. Luckily, it hadn't cracked the glass. She suddenly saw movement from the corner of her eye and picked up a gun that was in a drawer. Ana started cautiously walking down the hallway where the dining room was, when someone suddenly lunged at her. She moved out of the way quickly as the man jumped at her with a knife directed at her throat. She dodged out of the way as the assassin slashed at her with knife, but Ana used her ballet training to avoid being stabbed. Grabbing her by the hair, she threw him into the wall to slow him down slightly. The man glared at her disdainfully, sneering at her as he pulled out a knife that looked like it could slice her to pieces. "This is called a serbcutter, little girl. My ancestors used this knife to kill enemies of Croatia during World War II," the man taunted cruelty, lunging at her again. She kicked him in the chest, gripping her own knife and stabbed him in his left shoulder. She heard him yell out in pain, as she wrapped her legs around his neck, but he kicked her right knee, causing her to hiss in her own pain. Ana backed away from him as she saw two more of his friends had joined him. They must have come from the back garden to get into the apartment. Damn it. "Three on one…that's hardly fair," she remarked coldly, keeping a fighting stance as she kept an eye on where all of them were positioned. And then, she ran, all the way down. And they weren't that far behind in following her down into the streets.

After feeding Alpine and falling asleep, Bucky woke up to the sounds of fight from across the street. He quickly got dressed before grabbing his gun and his Da Lai knife that Steve had given back to him. It had been his when he'd been with the Howling Commandos. After locking the door, he walked quickly across the street to see what was going on. When he did find what was the cause, Bucky was stunned to see Maria fighting four people, one of whom had a knife and another man that he recognized as Diego, a Flag Smasher. "Hey, isn't four on one an unfair disadvantage?" he called out dangerously, pulling out his knife. His voice caused Maria to turn in surprise, and he sees a slight smile come over her lips at him suddenly showing up. One of the assassins tried to gut him. He kicked him in the face, causing the man to stumble back at his nose breaking from Bucky's kick. "You're pissing off our boss, Kapitonova! She wants Madripoor to be like how the country was before you arrived and started putting down all of these stupid rules for us to follow!" Axelle spat contemptuously, lunging at her with a hunter's knife. He saw Maria sigh in annoyance before punching her hard across the face, using a pair of batons that glowed dark red. They were similar to the ones that Natasha used, only hers glowed blue and not a dark crimson red. He knocked out the remaining one as Maria came over with a slightly bruised face. Her lip was bleeding, and she had a tear in her t-shirt that had blood on it. "What do you wanna do about them?" He asked quietly, nodding at two of the surviving assassins. One of the women was dead. Maria had stabbed her in the throat, severing her carotid artery and causing her to bleed out. "I'll question them…thank you for helping me," she answered cautiously, glancing up at him. He nodded and watched as she picked up their weapons off the floor. He discreetly checked to see if any of them had any identifiable scars or tattoos and got lucky. The woman had a tattoo on her back that had the words 'Elite Hunters' with roses on either side. It looked like it had been branded into her skin. He felt his blood run cold but took a photo and sent it to Steve. Maybe, they could find out who had sent them to kill Maria and why?

Steve had gotten Bucky's message and the attachment of a photo that showed a tattoo. He'd never seen that tattoo before, but Billy, Clint, Natasha, Yelena and Grant were staring at the tattoo as if they'd seen a ghost. "Do any of you know what this tattoo is? Because I've never seen it before, and I've seen my fair share of tattoos," Steve asked curiously. Natasha was the one who answered his question, surprisingly. "I do, and so do the others. It's the tattoo of a secret organization called the Elite Hunters who prey on people by luring them to holiday hotels and spas in countries such as Italy, Czech Republic, and Iceland. They revel in dark fantasies such as murder, cannibalism, and torture of many forms that include fetish pornography and amputation. Only wealthy people run the organization, and it was very secretive…until 2013," Natasha explained gravely, her face showing her disgust. No one in the room could speak. They were all horrified by what they were hearing. Wanda looked like she was going to be sick. Scott had stopped eating his slice of pepperoni pizza, while Sam looked disgusted. "Just gonna put that down," Scott mutters, lowering his slice. "So, what happened in 2014, Romanoff?" Tony asked, causing Natasha to ignore him. Steve shook his head, shocked at the revelation. "After I dumped all of S.H.I.E.L. D’s secrets, the Elite Hunters were discovered by Fury. A lot of victims that had escaped or survived killed the Elite Hunters in revenge, or they committed suicide rather than go to prison for multiple murders," she explained quietly. Clint then took over. "At least three of them escaped and went to hide in Madripoor. These are the only surviving Elite Hunters," he said gravely, as he used his iPad to pull up the images. Three images came up on the large plasma screen. One of a man with light brown hair and cold blue eyes. The next two were of another man who had blonde hair and emotionless hazel eyes that caused Wanda to shiver at his disturbing, twisted smile. The final image was of a blonde-haired woman who looked like she was a model, but she had a demented smile, one that made Steve know instinctively that the woman was dangerous. "Do we know who hired them to kill Maria?" Steve asked concerned. Before she could respond, a furious Thaddeus Ross stormed into the conference room. His hands were balled into fists, as he glared at where Steve was sitting. "Who authorized Sergeant James Barnes to go undercover as a Russian arms dealer in Madripoor!? I made it perfectly clear that the woman was to be terminated as soon as you acquired her location!" Ross shouted infuriated, causing Steve to speak up for his team and Fury. "With all due respect Home Secretary, the young woman has shown no threat to us. I personally believe, as do many of the others, that she is perhaps more like Frank Castle," Steve argued, causing Ross's face to turn an interesting shade of purple that resembled an eggplant. "You overstep yourself, Captain Rogers. As from now, you are no longer the leader of the Avengers due to your behavior as of late and your recklessness in allowing Sergeant Barnes to go on a mission without being cleared by me. As a result, Tony Stark will be leading the team," Ross said harshly, a cruel smile appearing on his face. Tony's expression was one of arrogance, triumph and smugness. "Sir, Steve did the right thing. Who else could he send undercover?" Natasha argued firmly, causing everyone aside from Clint and Sam to stare at her in surprise. Ross's lip curled, as he looked at the young woman who sitting next to Yelena. He wasn't impressed or bothered by her question.

"He could've sent you, Agent Romanoff, or Belova." Natasha's shoulders fall. "Barnes knows Madripoor far better than I ever could have. And he knows Sharon better than I ever did. He was logically the best choice for this mission besides maybe Sam, but even then, he has his duties here. Barnes didn't have further missions that were outstanding that were blocking him from going. I did, and so does Belova." Ross lets out a huff before shaking his head. "Your missions could wait for something like this – either way, it was a bad decision to send Barnes off on this. If it were up to me, I'd bring him back instantly. But that's Fury's area." He glares at him, who doesn't give a proper response, just shrugs his shoulders. "Even so, Steve's lost jurisdiction. Tony, it's your job now." He shakes his head almost in disappointment before storming out, closing the door. Steve feels himself glare at where Tony was. "You just couldn't keep your mouth shut, huh?" "Oh, stop. You're being dramatic. This is what's been going on for ages," Tony states, crossing his arms against his chest. Steve shakes his head and sits down, quieting himself as Tony started to talk, changing the screen at the front. He glances at Nat and nudges her side, to which she glances over at him. "Thanks for standing up for me, Nat." The young woman nods in response, glancing at the ground. He could see she was still uncomfortable with something sitting inside of her. He wished there were a way he could see inside her head and wonder what the hell was going on. But hey, if she were standing up for him, that had to mean something good, right?

"Wait, what happened?" After the big fight with Maria out in the streets, Bucky had instantly gone back to his apartment to tell Sharon over the phone. And she had understandably listened and been surprised when he told her about everything. "It was insane, Sharon," Bucky says, running a hand through his hair. "There were four of 'em up against her. They really wanted her gone. She ended up killing one of them but the others…think she dragged them back to her place to interrogate them." "What did you say the tattoo said?" "Elite Hunters. Don't really know exactly what they are but got a feeling that whoever sent them wants her gone." Sharon sighs from the other end of the phone. "I'll be sure to look them up and find some info – I'm sure you've already talked to Steve and the others?" He nods. "Of course." "Good. Just keep an eye out." There was a beat of silence. "Maybe you should go out and check up on her. This might be the best time for you to figure out more about her. Vulnerable and shit." Bucky raises an eyebrow. "That's a bit manipulative." He could almost her hear shrug from across the phone. "You gotta do what you have to do. Might be your best option right now." Bucky sighs a bit. She wasn't wrong. It was an option. And right now, it really was one of the best he could lean towards. "Alright…you rest up now." "See you, Bucky." He hangs up the phone after that, glancing outside. It seems that she wasn't that far from where he lived. Maybe he could walk around until he found where she lived. He saw the direction she had gone. Maybe Sharon was right. Maybe it was the best time to do it.

The sound of a knife slitting across skin was loud enough for anyone in her penthouse to hear. The scream that followed was enough to make someone cringe. But Ana didn't care. Ana wanted answers. "Now," she says lowly, pushing the man close to her. She could see it was Diego, one of the Flag Smashers from before. "Either you tell me who sent you here, or I can make your time a little more terrible like your friend over there." She points to the other hostages that were now passed out. "I'm…n-not gonna s-say shit!" He stutters. She grabs her knife and stabs it deep into his arm, to which he screams out in pain before dragging it right back up to his elbow. The blood spurts out as tears start to evade his eyes. "No, you gonna play nice?" "It-t's Melina!" he yells out, his voice shaking. She pauses. "She sent us – p-please, we were only doing our j-" She instantly brings the knife up and slits his throat, watching as he bleeds out before falling to the ground. He was no innocent man. This wasn't a job. She knew what Diego had done prior to this. The same with these two. And now, it was done. Melina…god, she was going to murder that bitch. She wipes the blood away, letting out a soft sigh before grabbing a towel to wipe the blood from her face. Before she could start wondering what to do with the bodies, however, there was a beep that came from her intercom. Her brow raises before coming over. Who on earth would be here this time of night? "Yes?" She asks as her finger hovers over the button. "Who is it?" "Miss Maria, you have a gentleman visiting you," her concierge stated from below. "A Mr. Yakov?" She had wondered why he had come out to help her like that. Seems he was a bit more than she had originally thought. But he did aid her in getting these goons…maybe he wouldn't be opposed to helping her now. "Send him up," she responds back, glancing at the mess of bodies below her. She wondered what Yakov would say to this.

She heard footsteps heading up the stairs as she grabbed a towel and wiped the blood from her face. She didn't enjoy killing people, far from it, but she was pissed that Melina Vostokoff had tried to kill her for putting down some moral laws. She was well aware that no one in Madripoor was innocent, but she wasn't going to stand by and allow rape or trafficking or any of that shit. Just because Madripoor was keeping it's lawless ways didn't mean that she was going allow the sickest people to get away with hurting people. Shaking her head, she started getting the cleaning products out to deal with the blood on the floor. She heard Yakov coming up to her soundproof room. And as soon as he walks in, he whistles at the sight of the blood before looking up at her. "Maria, what the hell happened?" Yakov asked concerned, his eyes scanning her over for any sign of injuries. She smiled faintly at his own concern for her, but she gave him a reassuring smile. "Someone wasn't happy with how I run Madripoor with a moral code…so she decided to send three Elite Hunters and a Flag Smasher to kill me. I questioned the Flag Smasher, and he spilled his guts to try and save his life," she said coldly, glaring down at the body of Diego with no emotion.

Over in Bucky's head, he felt his heart pound at her words, as his mind processed what she was saying. Someone, a woman, had ordered a hit on Maria to kill her in a violent manner, but she had fought back and killed all of her would be killers. She was definitely trained in the Red Room. He could tell that she had been trained in that facility. He just had a feeling that she had been raised in the there. God, he wished he could remember more of his time during that period. "Do you know who it was that ordered the hit on you, Maria?" he asked curiously, keeping his voice concerned. The last thing he wanted to do was to make her suspicious of him in any manner. "Melina Vostokoff, that old bitch…I was hoping she died when the Black Widow and Crimson Widow destroyed the Red Room. Well…she doesn't know if I'm dead yet and I intend on sending her a gift," she answered forebodingly, her grey eyes cold as ice. Bucky showed no emotion but privately, he knew Melina's days were now numbered. "Can you help me out here?" She asks him lightly, trying to move the bodies off of the carpet, to which he does. "You know, for someone I just met, you've been quite the helper tonight." Bucky shrugs a bit and smiles a bit at Maria. "I'm not about to let someone who's trying to at least do some good in this city die like that." "Well…thank you. That means a lot," she says genuinely. "But I don't want to drag you into this. This is my fight." Oh, he was already dragged in so deep. But for her, he could at least play it off.

[b-rainlet]

ecco vs/+/or tetch ;). also if you want more alice vs/+/or jervis

This is so hard, why would you do this to me :D

Only Ecco/Jervis for now, this got way too long omg (Tetchcest will be published in a separate post)

(Also beware the stray Ecco/miah analysis that sneaked in there?? I just have lots of thoughts about Ecco lmao)

(Also also I managed to sneak Jerome in there ajsnsnsnd)

Okay, okay so Ecco vs. Jervis? Ecco wins, 100%.

Like, Ecco does her research. Before she met Jerome, she probably already gathered all the info she could get on his accomplices and how he managed to escape Arkham and the like and I feel like she would've been prepared for Jervis.

(In fact, I believe she only ended up hypnotized in the first place because both her and Miah were probably too sure of themselves? Like, they probably didn't consider that Jerome was planning on being taken so therefore Jervis and Jonathan could've simply waited around Ecco's apartment to follow her to Miah's hideout.

But just between us: The whole place is full of cameras and somehow Ecco opens the door to Jervis and Jonathan? I mean, does Miah have one of those speaker systems so Jervis was able to hypnotize her from the other side of the door? I think there was a little suspension of disbelief involved actually).

Anyway Jervis isn't skilled in hand to hand combat and spends his confrontations with Jim hiding behind hostages or siccing his puppets on him (or even Ecco as his accomplice in S5) so Ecco just needs to get close enough to get a good swing in.

And she'd probably be smart enough to carry/wear some earplugs around Jervis if she's planning on attacking him or if they're on hostile grounds with each other. (Because canonly speaking, I don't think he'd hypnotize her. They like each other too much, there no reason for him to do it -other than his desire to be with her romantically-)

(She may even go out of her way to pretend she's hypnotized to trick him and get close enough to knock him the fuck out or kill him, depending on what's her mission there).

Ecco + Jervis....well, we all know my standpoint there aksnsnsn.

I have rambled about this countless times, but maybe not in public so to make it brief, I'm just saying that Ecco is probably the perfect doll Jervis could ever envision.

Like, his - and Miah's - whole thing is control and Miah has expertly shown that he can control at least one person to the point they would willingly die for him without being outright hypnotized and that's big.

On one hand I think that would incline Jervis to work with Miah in the first place - because he recognizes his talent and Ecco is like this shiny little trophy Miah can show off like 'Look what I accomplished, look how powerful I can be'.

And on the other I feel like how Ecco behaves around Miah and is loyal to him is exactly how Jervis wanted his relationship with Alice to be and once again, Miah didn't hypnotize Ecco.

She's doing all this without being forced and Jervis is fucking fascinated by that. He wants her. He wants her to be willing to die for him. He wants her to belong completely and utterly to him alone so he's the one who can show her off and have someone be loving and loyal without the added empty eyes blankly staring at him, expecting the next orders.

(Also I think he likes to paint himself as a gentleman and romantic, so he'd make it this whole show of how lovely Ecco isn't treated right and he would treat her like a princess obviously, completely disregarding the fact that she's really only valuable to him because Miah treated her so lowly and hurt and abused her because that's what made her so loyal. And if need be, he's gonna pick up some of Miah's methods to keep her in line. Only out of love though).

But I do also think that Jervis would see pre-gas and bullet Ecco as a powerful asset to the league and we have seen them get along greatly so if Ecco had more autonomy, he'd definitely treat her like an equal (like he treats Jerome or Jonathan) and he definitely values how she's similar to Jerome but that's a whole other rant.

(Also....he's hot. She's hot. I like them both. Why not like them while they smooch and Jervis gets handsy enough Ecco has to swat his hands away).

One more rambly thing while I'm at it tho:

I think it's very important for Miah and his influence within Gotham to have Ecco at his side.

I mean, not only does she do everything, from recruiting the Maniax to turning Jeremiah into a godlike figure, a messiah to be worshipped, to working with his allies and fighting his enemies, no, she's also his only 'proof' of his power so to say.

I mean, by the time S5 rolls around he does have a reputation among the citizens of Gotham but the villains? I think it's important for him to have Ecco around so he can show off how he can be cunning enough to get people on his side + as a way of threatening them by showing them how cruel he can be (which can range from stuff like using Ecco as his foot rest to outright slapping/choking her in front of people and have her thanking him for it).

If he doesn't have Ecco anymore, not only does he lose his right hand woman, he pretty much loses all his connection to his followers and the villains he worked with and it's gonna be a blow to his status as feared villain because the one who's actually a threat is gone, plus he can't use her to seem more imposing by bossing her around.

Someone has made the argument before that Miah's shit at captivating people through his words and persona (since Ecco draws them in and the moment he's alone with the maniax he loses them and has to burn them alive before they turn on him)-

-*cough cough* Jerome/Ecco parallels *cough cough*-

-so I think it's safe to say that killing her off may have been one of the stupidest decisions he's ever made. And not just because I like her.

He's never gonna find somebody he can manipulate to that point again because unless he plays the long con and really dedicates himself to it (which I think he's too impatient to do after the gas, he freely rolls his eyes at Ecco when he's annoyed with her, I don't think he's patient enough to play the dotting and loving partner for months to get his new Harley to the point she'd shoot herself for him), no one's gonna fall for him.

Jerome? Jerome could easily aquire a Harley and he'd just as easily keep her (mostly because he'd see her as a powerful asset rather than a mindless bimbo to worship him) but Miah? Nah.

He may have the role of helpless victim down but now that he's known as a villain it's gonna be harder to pull off and lure somebody in.

His safest bet would be kidnapping a kid tbh, -not that I ever thought about him kidnapping Barbara Lee, noooo-

Anyways, other fish in the sea? Miah can be lucky the villains still work with him without Ecco present as a mediator, finding a new girl to replace her is gonna be impossible.

(And ohhhh, the deliciousness of a fic where Miah realizes just that but still alive Ecco - because she's always alive, safe for two wips of mine - doesn't wanna go back to him, yeeeeesssss).

Ecco or Jervis?

Well, I don't think anyone's gonna be surprised when I go with Ecco here :D

I mean, I love Jervis and I love the storyline of Alice/Jervis and how neatly it ties into S3 but Ecco is my sweetheart and my baby and can possibly only be topped by Jerome.

-quite literally-

Because while I adore Ecco, canonly speaking there's not much there, I just decided I wanted it to be that deep whereas Jerome has a lot of canon interactions with people and a super interesting storyline, plus a complex familial situation and just...like, not to bash on Miah but he has the perfect set up to be the Joker because he's been around since S1 and him and Bruce have an actual relationship that evolves over time and he has allies he actually gets along with and he's had at least one scene with most of the mains and backstory with most of the mains and it's just so good.

Like....if they'd introduced Ecco independently from Miah just to give Jerome a Harley, I think that would've actually been my dream come true.

(But they couldn't give him a Harley because apparently their definition of Joker/Harley is 'abusive' and it would've been super ooc to suddenly have Jerome run around choking girls into submissions and shooting them so they're not better than him when he's canonly into women who could kick his ass and values them as potential allies (Bridget)).

[daxieoclock]

Okay let’s do this. TW for scientific dehumanization

This is Vee, my Final Fantasy 7 OC (primarily with the remake in mind, though the meta aspects of that story don’t play a part here). Formerly from a small village whose inhabitants were captured and experimented on by Shinra, she possesses minor draconic abilities and an affinity with fire Materia as a result of those experiments. She only escaped the labs at all by accidentally faking her death – going into cardiac shock during an experiment and then surviving their attempt to dispose of her body through incineration, due to her newfound immunity to flame. Vee was then nursed back to health in a small religious collective centered around worship of the Ancients, and spent a few years there until she had recovered enough to leave. While she isn’t quite an amnesiac, the trauma from those labs has fucked significantly with her memories and self of self.

Personality-wise, Vee is brash and self-assured, displaying both an abundance of confidence and a general sense of polite ease. She’s a hopeless flirt, but drops that behavior immediately around her elders and anyone who shows discomfort in being flirted with. While she jumps at the chance to make a show, she also shies away from attention outside of her control, hiding her fiend eyes behind sunglasses and keeping her wings dismissed. That overly casual persona also helps hide a deep insatiable fury towards Shinra, SOLDIERs and especially that snickering scientist bastard, whose throat she would personally like to tear out for everything he’s done to her and her family.

In combat, she keeps at least one hand in her pocket at all times, and fights with close-range fire magic and a flame sword she can summon and dismiss at will.

AU summary (including Gay Details) under cut.

EDIT: I’ve made a few minor edits and added events up until a little ways past the departure from Midgar.

EDIT 2: I made this into a fic.

Initial

A large aspect of the “Vee AU,” so to speak, is the change of timescale: stretching out the events of the plot over the span of a couple months rather than a couple weeks, with multiple periods of reprieve between urgent setpieces. Other than that, the first big change comes after Cloud’s meeting with Aerith, in that he makes it back to Seventh Heaven without being pulled into the Wall Market nonsense – Aerith tagging along the whole time. Aerith meets Tifa and decides to stick around for a bit, Cloud slips back into his friendly neighborhood merc gig, and Avalanche stresses in the background about their next move.

It’s during this point that Cloud investigates a commotion nearby Sector 7 only to find the cause to be a bloodied Vee standing amidst a bunch of ko’d Shinra soldiers. When she notices Cloud’s mako eyes, she attacks him – SOLDIERS were the people who took her to the labs – before half-collapsing from her injuries. Cloud heals her, and makes the ‘ex’ part of ex-SOLDIER very clear, as well as his open contempt for Shinra. Vee apologizes for losing control, thanks them, and decides to stick around to help out – since they have a common enemy, and she wants to pay back Cloud for saving her life after she almost murdered him. Vee Joins The Party.

A few days later, we enter the leadup to Wall Market. Desperate for details and noticing a surge of Shinra activity in and around Sector 7, the gang decides to try and get info from the one man who might know anything: Don Corneo. Unfortunately, he’s an asshole, so they’re going to have to threaten him for it. While Barret and the rest of Avalanche stay behind to keep Shinra from trying anything, Aerith, Tifa, Cloud and Vee head to Wall Market. On the way there, Tifa and Vee get separated from the others when part of the collapsed highway collapses further, and they spend some time getting to know each other while Aerith takes Cloud on a more direct route.

Tifa and Vee smooch after roughly a day of romantic tension. No further relationship is established at this time.

In Wall Market, the gang splits up into two teams to try and pincer Corneo’s security. Vee and Aerith hit up the tournament under Madame M’s supervision, passing themselves off as a Shinra rep and her Turk bodyguard to get an invite through the front door, while Cloud and Tifa go through Andrea Rhodea to try and weasel their way into Corneo’s audition for his next wife.

Aerith and Vee smooch after kicking ass in the tourney. No further relationship is established at this time.

Corneo’s security is dispatched from two angles, and the gang rushes back towards Sector 7 after hearing the info about Shinra’s now ongoing plan to collapse the plate. They get there, and fight their way up to Barret and the other Avalanche crew, managing to minimize the damage from the plate’s fall by locking the center supports in place, but they cannot fully prevent the collapse. While the majority of Sector 7 remains livable, the outskirts are devastated. (Aerith is not approached by Tseng at this point. Jessie, Biggs and Wedge survive.)

There’s a terse, tense celebration in Seventh Heaven. A lot of lives were saved, but not all of them, and there’s still the financial cost to the already destitute slums – not to mention that Shinra will likely try to take credit for the collapse’s partial prevention, and pin the collapse itself on Avalanche. This isn’t even close to the end of hardship. Regardless, it is a victory.

Over the next few days, the gang recovers and focuses on helping Sector 7 rebuild. Tifa tries to push Aerith and Vee together, seeing herself as an obstacle between them. Aerith confronts Tifa about this, they discuss their feelings and reservations.

Aerith and Tifa smooch. At this time, we establish a relationship between Aerith, Tifa and Vee. Many more smoochings occur.

Saving Aerith

One morning, the gang wake up to find Aerith missing. Tifa, Vee, Cloud and Barret go to her house to look for her, and Elmyra tells them she visited late last night to say she wouldn’t be coming back home for a while. Elmyra realizes something is wrong, and tells the gang that Aerith is a descendant of the Ancients, and her birth mother was captured by Shinra. Vee and Cloud are especially tense when she says she suspects Shinra’s head scientist of being involved in Aerith’s disappearance. When the party returns to Sector 7, Wedge shares a message from Avalanche HQ: the Turks brought someone matching Aerith’s description into Shinra headquarters last night.

After tangoing with Corneo and Leslie in the sewers, the gang fights their way to the Shinra Building. On the elevator up, Vee and Barret have a bit of an ideological clash. Vee makes it clear she doesn’t care about the suffering of Shinra Employees, their paychecks are soaked through with the blood of Shinra’s victims, and their complicity is guilt enough. Barret fires back that while they’re taking the easy road out, there are fewer and fewer non-Shinra jobs out there every day, and some employees have more than their own mouth to feed. Not everyone can afford to make the sacrifices he did, and while they don’t have to be buddy-buddy with Shinra’s suckers, the company would fall apart without them. Draw them over to Avalanche’s side, and Shinra wouldn’t last a day.

Mayor Domino helps the gang get into Shinra R&D, and they’re forced to fight a whole floor full of mutant experiments to get to where Aerith is kept. When they reach her, she’s contained in a glass cylinder, overlooked by Hojo in an isolated observation room. Vee immediately lunges at the reinforced glass between her and the scientist. She asks if Hojo recognizes her, and he expresses delight that she managed to survive. Vee tries to break the glass but hesitates when more experiments attack Tifa, Barret and Cloud. She does issue one last threat to Hojo: she’s going to walk out of here with Aerith, and then she’s going to track him down, so he’d better start running. Next time they meet, she’ll make him hurt in every way he hurt her, and she’ll enjoy it. Vee punches the glass hard enough to crack it, and she gets one good look at Hojo’s surprised – maybe frightened – face before metal shutters close off the observation room completely.

After being freed and embracing both of her girlfriends, Aerith explains that she was captured voluntarily – half to keep Avalanche from being targeted by Shinra, and half to find out the truth. She takes them down a floor to a place she identifies as her mother’s room, and her own. Aerith spent most of her childhood here, and her mother managed to escape with her just long enough to hide her with Elmyra before being captured again. Aerith returned because she thought her mother might still be alive, but apparently the woman didn’t survive more than a year after being recaptured. Vee reminds Aerith that she’s still alive, and she has a life outside these walls now, with people who love her. Tifa simply asks her to promise not to leave like that again, and Aerith gladly does so. She doesn’t plan on chasing ghosts, not anymore. She knows where her home is.

The reforged quintet meets with Red XIII, who Vee immediately takes a one-sided liking to, trying to befriend the more tempermental catdog. They head farther into the labs to both chase Hojo and make it to the roof for extraction, and find Jenova. Sephiroth appears, sending Tifa into shock and Cloud into blind fury, and the latter charges at the specter – who severs the bridge and sends them plummenting into the depths of the labs. Cloud is seperated from the others for a time, and fights alone and half-berserk through a small horde of experiments, nearly attacking Barret when he runs into him. Barret and Red manage to calm him down, and they fight up the Drum to Tifa, Vee and Aerith, then back up to the elevator.

The gang follows Jenova-infected footsteps to President Shinra’s office to find the bigwig himself danging off the side of his big fancy tower. Vee immediately hops over the railing and extends a hand to pull him up, but digs her nails into his arm and keeps on holding him over the edge. It’s his fault. Everything that happened to Aerith, to Vee herself. Guilt travels upwards, and there’s no one higher than Shinra. Killing him won’t bring back Aerith’s mother, or the people killed by the plate, or Vee’s family. It won’t take away what happened to her. But it’ll make her feel a whole lot better. Vee is ready to drop him, but Barret talks her down, convinces her that Shinra is more use clearing their names and owning up to dropping the plate. With him as a hostage, they can bring the company to its knees. Vee relents, and pulls Shinra to safety, only for Sephiroth to stab him through the chest.

Cloud barely holds it together, and Sephiroth taunts him, trying to egg him on. Doesn’t Cloud want to hurt him? Doesn’t he want to take revenge, for his family, for his home? For his companion? Cloud is a breath away from trying to take his head off, but it’s Tifa who strikes first, forcing Sephiroth back with a roundhouse kick. She tells him to leave her friend alone, and the rest of the gang backs her up. That manages to shake Cloud out of his fury, and he stands by his friends as they take on the legendary SOLDIER hero.

And lose. They’re barely a match for him, their attacks don’t phase him in the slightest, and he seems impossibly fast. With one final mockery, Sephiroth takes Jenova’s body and dives off the side of the Shinra building, leaving Cloud almost numb, hollow. Tifa manages to pull him out of it, and he doesn’t understand how she’s still herself aftering seeing him. She shows that her hands are still shaking, and admits she’s not letting it catch up with her. Right now, she’s focused on trying to stay alive, and keep the people she cares about alive. Our six rebels fight their way back through Shinra security and, with one look back at the home they’re leaving behind, they steal a ride out of Midgar.

Once they make it to the inn in Kalm, Cloud finally fills everyone in on what he hasn’t told them. He’d only meant to tell Tifa, originally, but the others deserve the truth as well. With her permission, he recalls the Nibelheim Incident. After Sephiroth killed his hometown and injured Tifa, Cloud attacked the man, overpowering him and throwing him to his death – or he assumed, at least. Another Nibelhiem resident, Zangan, took Tifa to safety, promising to come back for Cloud. He didn’t make it, and Cloud was captured and experimented on by Hojo; toughing through thanks to the mako infusions he got as a SOLDIER. After five years, he managed to escape, and make it to Midgar. The others are horrified, but Cloud almost no-sells it. It’s in the past. It’s fine. He’s fine. And with that, and without taking any questions, he goes to his room and sleeps.

Tifa admits once he’s gone that there’s something odd about the story, about the way he told it. She can’t quite pick out what, but it feels as if he’s leaving out something big from the parts that she can’t corraberate. Barret and Red agree, they felt similarly, but Vee reminds them that traumatic events like that can fuck with a person’s head, muddle their memories. And she knows firsthand how traumatic Shinra’s labs can get. The five agree not to push him on it, and follow suit to get some sleep.

When she’s finally alone with Aerith and Vee, Tifa breaks down completely as the events of the day wash over her. The man who scarred her, who slaughtered her family, who burnt down her home, is alive. Her best friend has years of trauma he’s never told her about. And she almost lost her girlfriend. Vee and Aerith hold her, and the three fall asleep together. For now, they’re safe.

[gamergirluprising]

(WARNING SENSITIVE INFO WILL BE DISCUSSED OR GIVEN. IF YOU CANNOT HANDLE INFO REGARDING SELF-HARM OR BULLYING I’D ADVISE YOU NOT TO READ ON. VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED)

Hello, everyone, I’d like to share somethings that have urked me and outright surprise me when getting deeper and deeper into this whole shebang cause honestly, this is too much to NOT notice. If you're wondering what I am talking about I am referring to all the stuff I found out about Viv and the fact that she never truly seemed sorry for what she's done to said people based on what I have found out and what she's said in recent years.

Now you all may say "G, she said she's sorry and that's that. Don't bring up things that happened years ago or have been resolved." and look, man, I'd leave it alone if it was CLEAR that she was truly a person of her word, wasn't a hypocrite, and didn't cause 3 people to be suicidal and cause/know of witchhunts that she KNOWS happened and/or wanted to happen. You guys can like her all you want and defend her, but be sure they are good defenses, understand WHERE I am coming from, and be mindful of what I am saying. Don't just ignore everything she did just cause you THINK she's super nice or because she's your idol.

I will also emphasize that I wish for NO ONE to send any unnecessary hate or anything of the like to Viv. You don't stoop to someone else's level just cause they did some bad crap. I just wanted to say any of this, loud and clear, cause its straight facts that shouldn't be buried just cause she wants to hold onto her image the best she can. That isn't at all fair to those victims who have been wronged and had their names tainted over her destructive and mean-spirited hypocritical behavior. AGAIN DO NOT ATTACK VIV AND DON'T THINK ME CALLING HER OUT IS A REASON TO HATE HER. We can be better than her in terms of handling things. Do not also think me calling her out shouldn't have been done JUST CAUSE you don't wanna hear it or not. If you don't wanna see it, you don't have to read it.

with that being said, LET'S DISSECT.

 S T A R V A D E R

First I have to start off relaying to you guys what Starvader had stated at the beginning of the document so you'll get a jist of why she even spoke up in the first place. 

 "I type this document with no malicious intent only my personal thoughts on how I feel recently about the situation since its been on my mind well every day now since 2013. At least five years I’ve had thoughts below as to my personal experience of meeting an ex idol and why sometimes meeting your idol isn’t the best approach. For me, that ex idol is Vivienne Medrano creator of Zoophobia and Hazbin Hotel. I’m not aiming to defame this creator nor do I think people should stop liking their work or stop supporting them. If you like their work there is nothing wrong with that but I will refuse to silence myself any longer due to how much this rarely leaves my mind and tends to come up. This has been a situation swept under the rug and most would probably state ‘ well why are you bringing all this up now it was so and so years ago you guys squashed this etc etc “ that being the case, sorry doesn’t fix emotional trauma that comes up frequently during depressive episodes and comments do tend to stick to people in a certain way. Apology or not, words have a heavy weight to them."

I put this here even though I will be putting a link to her doc because people will most likely not read or press the link and just act as if Starvader wanted blood. No, she stated her mind and was clear when saying she wanted no harm done to Viv.

https://docs.google.com/document/d/e/2PACX-1vRX8VEoTS7Xot7D9u5i7MMEgtT44mNEtgpl4FY7QDZCA7ZY2j-CTJF7Uw_JwSJ6WUQNVvaTQv60Igte/pub

In this link It tells anyone who comes across it what she and some others mentioned here had to go through when being compared by Viv, wanting to do what's right and still being "called out" and bullied while getting hate sent to them, and having been told how her dreams would never ever be achieved and that she should practically give up, how she put friends against one another, etc. It showcases screenshots of these examples. 

It all began with the accusation of art theft. The very thing she played the victim in with someone else. I'm sure some of you old-time fans of Viv know who this person was and are aware of the beef they had with one another. After reading Starvader's Doc, I want you to look at the post Vivziepop made to defame someone known as 

  D O L L C R E E P

This may be a throwback to you and you all may have thought this person was abusive. I won't say that they did absolutely nothing wrong since they themselves have said they did some wrong in the situation, but I will say that one was more of a problem starter than the other. 

http://web.archive.org/web/20151008172207/http://enoughisenough-dollcreep.tumblr.com/post/125101370456/my-experience-with-dollcreep

Notice in this post that the very things she did to Starvader she said DollCreep did to her and how she tries and paint DollCreep as this SEVERELY abusive person. Hell even in Starvader's document you'll see that DollCreep told SV that he talked with Viv about the whole thing regarding SV and Viv and she apparently listened at the time. Not to mention that the screenshots Viv put in that post were either take(very possibly) taken out of context or not even bad to begin with (though his reply about the face thing was odd and shouldn't have been addressed b but due to circumstances, I think that's why he was so cautious). I don't know DC like that, but this kinda makes me feel as though he wasn't a bad person Viv makes him out to be and more her trying to destroy his image ENTIRELY for her benefit, cause till this very day she still calls him an abuser and someone she doesn't want to meet again. 

if you continue on into the post she made, you'll see that she has made characters, EERILY SIMILAR to DC's, some WAY MORE than others. SV was willing to change some of the designs and even wanted to stop, Viv, however, seemed to take great offense over such an accusation and took to social media to make her frustrations known. SV kept this hidden from 2013 to 2018.

Oh btw, if you read the doc you'll see that SV wanted to commit suicide. DC actually attempted it. The cyberbullying ran that deep and it ANGERS me.

here’s what someone who saw the sitch had to say.

https://web.archive.org/web/20170619163024/http://dcs-personal-blog.tumblr.com/

can find everything here regarding what DC said about the sitch. You guys DO NOT ATTEMPT TO HURT THIS PERSON. It actually pisses me off that people even attacked DC and blindly believed Viv. It’s Johnny Depp’s situation all freaking over again

Here’s the picture of Viv saying that he was abusive, completely ignoring her behavior, and knowing hate would be sent to DC. Again won’t say that DC was completely innocent but damn man, was this necessary? DC even said that they talked it out and everything 

https://vivziepop.tumblr.com/post/179705403534/im-only-going-to-say-this-once

Don’t even get me started on the whole character credit fiasco that Viv refused to properly fix.

https://krieg-was-taken.tumblr.com/post/101438542866/dollcreep-kibadoglover45-dollcreep-even

Look at this as well.

https://web.archive.org/web/20200104224648/https://tyacutie123.tumblr.com/post/125800399071/beware-of-abusive-artist

it mentions SV again, but it also brings into light a parody character meant to mock DC during all of this drama. 

https://killapunk.tumblr.com/post/125896144245/dcs-personal-blog-enoughisenough-dollcreep/amp

DollCreep does the same thing back and is treated like the enemy. Hypocrisy at its finest.

now, most of you guys will be saying that this all happened in the past. It’s over, some will say, She’s changed (some of you may even say that these people deserve it. Yes people actually have said stuff like this to me or others) but here’s the problem, She still pulls crap like this to ruin people or to make others feel stupid. Just last year she was laughing with JaneGumball (who APPARENTLY made up with the victim) saying that she deserves it for being rude when the girl just said her opinion and was still a fan of Viv at the time, meaning she didn’t even mean to hurt Viv’s feelings and, hear me out, even if she did WHY FIND HER CYBERBULLYING FUNNY AND JUSTIFIED OVER AN OPINION? What sort of logic is that? That’s GREATLY immature and unnecessary, especially for someone her age (She’s 27 or 28 guys while the victim was 15, come on man!)

 and I’m sure some of you know what happened with the person who made a meme regarding HH and other animated cartoons.

She’s VERY MUCH AWARE THAT THEY WERE ATTACKED....and this is how she responds....wow O K A Y.

So no, she didn’t actually change because she most likely didn’t think she had to. People kept supporting her thus making her believe that what she did was correct. Oh and Faust is practically Viv as well. (As seen by the SV doc and this tweet thread)

https://twitter.com/melonbea/status/1206994000563068930?s=19

Hell Viv seemed to ignore this too, as well as a lot of shipping drama if it involves a specific ship, but I won’t delve too deep into that subject since I am not very aware of the things that go down in that side of the fandom. 

and there’s this 

https://afraidofmonsters-headcanons.tumblr.com/post/188662798256/so-lets-talk-about-this-blog-the-fandom-and-viv

and this

https://historia-kq.tumblr.com/post/190882421127

I’d advise you guys to hear these things out. 

Oh and Viv is the type to be a Hypocrite regularly,

https://twitter.com/VivziePop/status/613097846603026433?s=19

I could send you all the screenshots of her tweets but that should be another post on its own cause THERE IS A LOT. Like her Cancel Culture tweet, that tweet where she said, and I quote, “The hypocrisy is strong” back in 2014, November 29th. That time she had a thread of tweets saying, and I quote “never let someone dictate your value as an artist! Never seek the approval of someone else and conform to what they say you should do!” Despite doing this to StarVader.

If you guys want screenshots I can either personally DM or make a post showing her hypocrisy. Cause honestly this is rather, dare I say it, TOXIC. She’s manipulated people and has used them when they don’t abide by her rules or make a mistake that could have been resolved privately, she attacks and it’s saddening. I am TIRED of people getting hurt by her and I am tired of her abusing her power. If she wants to change I am COMPLETELY DOWN for that, but change starts when you want it. You can’t say sorry and expect people not to see past the lies or see that you obviously didn’t change. Sorry should mean what it means, feeling regret or penitence, but if you don’t at all exhibit these things then how are we supposed to believe that you are at all sorry for anything you’ve done currently AND in the past? I mean damn dude did you guys even know what happened to the cosplayer that Viv was mad about?

https://boricua-moonbakery.tumblr.com/post/616407364553310208

Now look, if you like Viv’s content, that’s your choice. I for one very much do like some fan content that i’ve stumbled onto and find some very creative and my cup of tea and while I’m not a huge fan of HH I still very much find the premise very creative. What I do if a creator of something is majorly sketch or strange I simply seperateb the content from the creator. I simply wanted to point out things many peeps don’t know about and any person who is a fan of Viv, I hope you’d at least understand WHY I am at all saying anything I am saying. I want there to be justice but I want things to be fair. I don’t want Viv to get hurt, but I want her to actually learn from her mistakes. I am not here to discourage you from anything, it’s your choice if you choose to stay and I will not judge you for it. I am a girl who SIMPLY wants people to be more aware of who exactly Vivienne Medrano is. She’s mistreated both fans of HH and ZP and it boggles me.

If you guys want more info, like her tweets that I mentioned, just message me.

      END OF DISSECTION

[lady-of-the-spirit]

⭐for "the universe isn't kind" on ao3 :D

You have no idea how happy it makes me to see that people actually read the weird self-indulgent stuff I write like this fic. Like I’m overflowing with love for you right now, anon.

Okay so what I want to talk about is this part (TW from here on out for discussion of depression/attempted suicide):

Booker rubbed his chest, blinking rapidly as he stared up at the ceiling. "I felt... her. She was miserable. She was in pain, she just wanted it to stop. She had a letter in her hand, and she was crying. That was a suicide."

Silence fell over them.

None of their first deaths had come about by their own hand. Not even Quynh or Lykon. All of them had fallen in battle - Booker being the only exception, but even he fell victim to someone else, not himself.

"She wanted to die," Booker said quietly. "And now she can't."

So the canon info about what immortals do and do not experience through their dreams of each other is kind of vague. In the movie we see that they see ‘flashes’ of each other, not necessarily a ‘livestream’ of what the other immortal is seeing or experiencing. Same goes for the comics. It’s not super clear if they can always feel the emotions the other is feeling - Nile says Quynh “felt crazy” in her dreams of her, but crazy isn’t really an emotion. But I like the idea that they can feel emotions of the other through their dreams, and so I wanted to go with that.

Booker feeling what she was feeling, seeing the letter and seeing her crying, and knowing that it wasn’t a murder just felt so perfect for this piece. Both Tara and Booker are actively suicidal and depressed, hate this life that’s been forced on them (while their peers enjoy it or are at least able to find some meaning in it), cannot see any reason for them to want to keep going, and are looking for ways to end it. Their situation and motivations are very different but their reactions are very similar, if not the same. So having Booker, the only one to know on a personal level that kind of darkness or depression (Andy doesn’t see the point but isn’t seeking death like Booker is), be the only one to feel what Tara was feeling, her pain and sorrow, and seeing her letter, was the only option for me. He feels what she’s feeling and knows that this isn’t a murder but a suicide because he’s experienced the same thing. And Booker knows what she’s going to be feeling very soon, that she wants to die but can’t die, because he’s felt that, too.

(Going forward in this au, even though I’m not planning on writing it further, I imagine that Tara and Booker would have like. kind of a weird relationship. Not friends exactly, but a mutual understanding of what the other feels and has been through. He may even be a little bit of a dad figure to her because she’s so young and Booker can’t stand it, it isn’t fair that she’s been dealt this shitty hand this young, it isn’t fair that she was suffering so much she wanted to kill herself at twenty-one years.)

I was a little inspired by Booker saying, after dreaming of Nile, that he felt her die while rubbing his neck - where Nile’s throat was slashed and where he was hung until he died. Neck Trauma Buds. So Booker here is dealing with feeling all of Tara’s feelings, which he shares, but also with feeling Tara’s beheading and dealing with feeling her ‘death’ on top of probably experiencing memories of his own neck trauma.

I also just wanted to talk about the fact that Tara committed suicide - even for just a section, because Andy says right after this that ‘we’ll deal with the suicide thing later, if at all’ - and the Guard is going to have to deal with that (the way it wasn’t in WicDiv canon and yes I’m bitter). Because all of their deaths were on the battlefield or at least out of their own hands. Tara’s wasn’t, and they’re going to have to deal with it at least on some level. So this is the start of that reckoning, knowing that they’re going to have to go about this differently.

Thanks so much for sending an ask! And about this fic! I appreciate it so much!

ask for the “director’s commentary” on a particular story, section of a story, or set of lines, or send in a ⭐star⭐  to have me select a section I’ve been dying to talk about!

[c-atm]

Cracked Steven Au

This is an original take on the Cracked Steven Au. So please bare with me..Hope you enjoy @holypicklekidcroissant

The sound thumping of the stairs stirred Connie from her rest causing her to groan as she rubbed the sleep out her eyes. Turning to the clock on the nightstand seeing it was 3:21 in the morning, she let free a small sigh of annoyance, when she heard the front door shut close.Turning to her window she saw a sight she's unfortunately, becoming accustomed too.

She rose from her bed quickly putting on a blue bomber jacket over her flannel pajamas before picking up a pink Letterman from the closet floor.

Just in case he could feel cold tonight.

There was no need to chase, she couldn't  catch up while he was actively zooming to the place he always seemed to go. She whistled into the night and waited. It was a whole ten seconds before Lion's pawed steps rounded from the corner of her home. She turned to her left, seeing the second lifelong friend walk up to her, a crystal lizard in his mouth. She giggled as the beast dropped his meal in offering, before nuzzling into her collarbone.No double sensing how distressed she was.

She wrapped her arms around the pink beast before kissing his jaw. "Thank you, Lion. It'll be ok." She let the beast go rubbing under his jaw with her right hand. "We gotta get to Steven. You know where, right?" 

Lion gave an affirmative snarl before moving from her hand and lowering his hand for her to get on. He stood up straight, when he felt her securely mounted and gave a roar creating a portal of pink and white in front of them. They leapt into the warp with no hesitation.

Steven sat at the edge of the fountain, his legs and arms crossed as he stared at the statue of Rose Quartz, shame in his eyes. He sighed in a distorted voice at the visage. “My diamond, please allow me a little ease."  He clenched his five clawed hands into fist. It was then he heard the sound of a portal opening behind him. He didn’t turn to acknowledge it, he knew who was coming, he kept forward eyes on the statue. 

He didn’t react when she stepped up beside him and sat down on his right side.  He tried to ignore the twist in his heart at the natural smell of her. Kept his snarl down as he glanced at her knee to chest, slightly messy haired form. She was more than appealing to him but it was inappropriate. Their stations were too different.

 He was a representative for Homeworld, a member of ‘Rose Diamond court. She was, from what he could tell from his memories and interactions, A human ambassador of some sort. She was important enough to talk directly to his commanders Garnet, Amethyst, and Pearl...To the Diamonds themselves and tell them he was under her direct surveillance until further notice and to have all six agree without argument.That at least, solidified that her standing was higher than his. 

His vivid, impassioned thoughts of her  were unwanted and disrespectful.

“Nice night. Gotta admit, the fountain always looks most enchanting when it’s reflecting the moon.”

Steven nodded at her off handed comment, fighting the rapid beating in his chest. “Yes, it does.”

Silence returned between the two as Connie glanced at the person beside her. The person, who at any other time would be her Mister, but now was someone far off from her Jambae, mentally and physically. 

His tan pink skin with visible splinter markings, which ran hotter than usual, his overall height was that of Garnet and mass just a little more than Pearl’s. His hair was now a black and pink streaked combination that fell to his nape. His eyes were glassy rose lenses with only the slightest appearance of an iris and pupil in them. His gem..

Her fist clenched at the thought of his gem.. It was cracked. Someone got close enough to crack him and the culprit has yet to be found.. Though you couldn’t tell. It was seemingly untouched and perfect condition..Until you get closer. There five spider thin splinters from the gem face would be visible. Five splinters filled with some kind of hardened goo, holding the pink diamond together, keeping him alive, but fragmenting and mixing up his memories every time he sleeps. A switch between five personas, a correlation with each crack.

 R&D have been trying to find a solution that didn’t involve cracking again the gem to remove the unwanted pieces for two main reasons. One, no one wants to see Steven wither in pain like that, ever again, and two, the gem itself was slowly losing its brilliance and becoming more fragile as time passes. Things they starved off using diamond essence baths. Which unfortunately, also was the cause of the goo hardening to its current point 

A weight on the road to recovery.

‘Speaking of which, his gem is looking a bit dim.’ Connie thought with worry. She stood up  taking off her jacket before stepping into the fountain cool diamond infused water. Once she was waist length she sat down, facing the blushing, bewildered hybrid. “Come join me.” She gave him a sweet smile raising a hand toward him.

Steven stood up in attention at her gentle command, a soldier to his commander. He removed his black shirt and blue jeans, throwing them to the side, showing the darkish red splinters like marks that seeped from the gem on to his skin racing only a few inches in each direction but was prominent enough to see even at their two meter distance. He walked in trying to hide the shivers as he felt the essence begin to do its job as the red seemed to slowly retreat into the gem, giving it’s luminescence back. He swam towards the woman ignoring the sensation, fully focused on the order he received. He was caught off guard when she  met him midway ,grabbing his hand and pulling him close, before laying him down, his head upon her chest when her hands locked around his.

“Ms.Connie?” 

"He felt embarrassed at his own voice and the meekness that came from it, despite not being able to help it. He looked up as her, the woman's hair falling from each of her sides, brushing his ears, shadowing their faces from the moon

“Just Connie...What brought you out here tonight?” 

Her question threw him off balance, as did her concern look.

“It..It was nothing important.” guilt thick in his voice. “What of you?”

“I heard you leave our home…”

“Your home.” The hybrid corrected

“Our home.” She retorted pointedly. “ In a hurry.” She sighed. “You can talk to me, you know that, right?”

“I appreciate the concern, but please..Do not fret yourself over me.”    

She bit back a groan at his apologetic laugh. This persona, Soldier; she inwardly referred to him as, was polite and structured, but so guarded about his own wants, needs, and troubles. It made it hard to really connect with him. Though, there is a way to get him to loosen his lips.

“Steven, Why have you left base, in the darkness of the night to this fountain?” 

She hated how he stiffened almost in shame at her commanding tone,..She hated giving him a command, but it was necessary, and she hated that fact as well. 

“I...Had a memory..Of my cracking.” Fear and defeat evident in his voice as he reached towards his gem.

“Did.. Did you see who did it?” She wished she didn’t sound so eager, but  the perpetrator identity was something she had been waiting for. 

“I did, but I did not recognize such a jagged cut gem.” He trembled as the memory of a spiked fist colliding with his gem played back in his mind. “If you can call such a thing a gem.”

‘.. A gem mutant? A gem mutant did this?’ Connie held him tighter, feeling his discomfort. Her left hand meeting his right cheek in a gentle stroke as she gently laid her head on top of his crown.”It’s ok, you’re safe Steven.”

. .He relaxed and felt a heavier weight on his chest. “I’m sorry for dragging you out of your slumber-.”

“Don’t you dare apologize.” The woman interrupted fire in her cool voice. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m here for you, always.” She kissed the top of his crown, feeling him grab her hand in surprise.  

“Ms.Connie?” Wonder in his voice.

“Just Connie.” She offered.

“I couldn’t. Your station is higher than mines.”

“We’re equals I’ve told you that before.” She did, so many times since this happened. “That has always been the nature of our relationship.”

“...How long have we known each other?” 

Connie couldn’t help but feel protective over ‘Soldier’. With his voice low and full of modest shyness; she couldn’t help but be reminded of kid Steven. “ You know that already.” She teased.” Eight years.”

He said nothing letting that bit of info set in. “You were aware of me since I was a pebble?” 

She wanted to laugh...but his terms, mannerisms...The surprise and pride in his voice...It was all evident to how mixed up he was, and it shattered her heart. “We’ve been together since we were kids.”  Her voice held her sorrow. “We’ve always been close...There was never a time we were less than the best of friends.”

“...Is that why you call me ‘Bisky’?” 

She nodded. “It is. It’s my term of endearment for you and you alone.”

“I...I find that hard to believe.” Quietly, he lowered his head. It was too good to believe, an organic gem like him having a close relationship with someone like her. “I want to believe, but my memories says different.” 

“It’s not your fault, Bisky, you're the victim in this.”Connie nuzzled close to him, trembling as she did. 

He hated the feel of her tears and hated himself more for causing them.

[basement-critics]

I watched "James Charles & Austin Jones (My Dumb Opinions)" so you don't have to...

It starts off with him trying and failing to do an intro like those "cute, quirky" vloggers

Starts to open a piano box to put together throughout this video

Says he wants to talk about "James... Franco? James, guru, beauty. Jessi, "maybe his name is Jonson, it's Jonson damn it" " (as if he hasn't been stalking James on Twitter for the past year, also that last part is supposed to be a reference to something I guess)

"How can I make a video on someone and not even know their name? This is what I'm good at, this is what I do"

Brings up how Austin Jones could face up to 10 years in prison for his interactions with young people

Apparently Austin was asking young people for inappropriate photos

Jumps back to him trying to figure out James Charles's name

"James Charles got in trouble because he was apparently plotting to turn straight men gay" forces awkward laugh

Says that James thinks he's no one is off limits because he is a celebrity

Greg says you can't make someone into someone no matter what their sexuality is because there is more to attraction than that because otherwise everyone would be with everyone

There is this "Trumpian theory" out there that if you are a celebrity you can do whatever you want to people (Greg I know you don't like Trump, but people in power have been doing that far longer than Trump has even been alive)

You can only get really weak people to do what you want and not people who actually "give a shit" because they are normal

"So James is all "s my d", it's dick, he's talking about dick"

You shouldn't call James a predator because that downplays what criminals are if you call people who aren't predators predators (James is a predator Greg, he is a sexual predator)

"So apparently James and his millions of dollars and his 16 million subs is now cancelled" (Greg sounded so bitter when saying 16 mill lol)

People don't know what cancelled is anymore because James can still upload a video so he still has a job

James will still be more wealthy than all of our dads combined, James could hire someone to beat up our dads

So if anyone is cancelled it's all of our family trees

We are all feeling cocky and proud of ourselves for ruining his life because some 37 year old chick made a video saying mean things about him and acting like she is humble while talking down, being condescending, exposing, ect.

"The lady literally did this, "Oh James Charles was going to expose people, he was plotting against them, he thinks he's so much better than other people, and that's why I coming to you guys and letting you know. Exposing him, and I'm better than him and I'm not a hypocrite, because...."

Says Tati doesn't actually care, that she's immature for calling her video "Bye Sister" and that's not what an adult does

Says Tati is making fun of James by making that the title, Tati never cared about James

He goes back to trying to guess what James's name is

James made a video crying in response and it was sad because James is young and has so many lessons to still learn, and this "gay ol 37 year old is picking on him"

We all do stupid stuff, and Tati is only "exposing" James to shame and make money off of him

Tati is trying to shame James for trying to expose other people

Society is hypocritical for standing behind her

We can't see how she will turn on us the moment we do something she thinks is out of line

And what her idea of what is out of line is defending straight men, who are like the least victims in the whole world (That is how he says that, it's weird. Also I guess straight men not being victims is the reason why DA and SA crimes against straight men are spiking as more men feel comfortable reporting their abuse, sure Greg)

"If I were straight and James tried to hit on me, and wanted me to s his d I wouldn't. I'm not into James Charles, I don't care about him. I don't care that he's a celebrity or any of this, when does personal accountability come into play?"

"Is everyone around a celebrity a victim now because that seems childish."

His opinion is we got this "old lady" who is seeing this kid that she helped out getting more popular than her, and that she promotes his stuff but he won't exclusively promote her stuff and she's mad (James has to my knowledge never promoted Tati's products, and he even told her he didn't want to be known for that on his channel)

Tati is mad that James promoted another company and decided to not he her "slave and bitch boy" anymore

She was so mad about this she went and made a hate video on him so she can totally ruin his life because he didn't do what she wanted

She helped him make it and now he isn't obeying her everyone word, so this 37 year old "hag" is going to go after James and make 10s of thousands of dollars in the process

That's just a theory based off his limited info though

As someone who has had to defend himself from monatized videos he can tell us the incentive to defend himself is comparable to how much money he could make defending himself, and if he can say this imagine how many others can

Says again how he isn't sure that James's name is James, then goes to build his piano

[helenarlett-rex]

Want to use an eldritch horror in your D&D game? Why not Shub-Niggurath?

Let’s face it. Lovecraftian horror exists in D&D. You got someone playing a warlock? One of the pacts they can make at first level is to the Great Old Ones... If you didn’t realize it, that means Lovecraft monsters... And when people think Lovecraft monsters, they tend to think Cthulhu. But why would you want to use Cthulhu? That’s kind of boring and overdone. There are a lot of other creatures you could use in your game that are way more freaky and interesting. And if you are using Lovecraftian stuff in your game, then you want freaky. That’s the whole point. So... what to use? Have you considered Shub-Niggurath?

Just as a quick reminder, Shub-Niggurath, like pretty much every other eldritch horror, does not have official stats in 5th edition D&D, which is what I am gearing this towards. So instead we are going to have to homebrew. But that’s not a problem. I’m about to collect all the info you need right here.

Shub-Niggurath, affectionately known as The Black Goat of the Woods with a Thousand Young, is sometimes described as an Outer God and sometimes described as a Great Old One, depending on the source. So honestly you could use it as either. And frankly, does it really make any difference? Either way it’s going to fuck your day up...

Although actually, calling Shub-Niggurath an Outer God isn’t quite correct. She’s would actually be an Outer Goddess. You know... Considering she’s a woman and all... Couldn’t you tell?

Shub-Niggurath is a perverse fertility deity, said to appear as an "evil cloud-like entity". An enormous mass which extrudes black tentacles, slime-dripping mouths, and short, writhing goat legs. So picture this massive cloud, but instead of being made of whatever clouds are actually made of... it’s made of slimy tentacles and mouths. It’s probably the size of a mountain... and it’s walking towards you on little goat legs...

You may be thinking, okay... It WAS scary... until you got to the goat legs... Now it’s just kind of comical... But wait, there’s more! As this thing goes about her business, smaller creatures are continually spat forth out of her. These creatures are essentially just smaller versions of Shub-Niggurath herself. Known as The Dark Young of Shub-Niggurath.

And when I say smaller... I mean they are about the size of trees... perhaps between twelve and twenty feet tall.

So these nasty bastards are just constantly being spit out of her and have to scurry out of the way as soon as they hit the ground. And the ones that don’t get out of the way in time are consumed back into Shub-Niggurath’s miasmatic form. So before you laugh at this giant beast walking around on little goat legs, just remember that she is constantly giving birth and then eating her own young.

Shub-Niggurath also gets around a bit. In the world of eldritch horrors, she’s one hot piece of ass. There’s more than one nightmarish monstrosity with eyes for her so she’s got two husbands. The Not-to-be-Named One, otherwise known as Hastur, because fuck it, we’re going to name him anyways... You know Hastur, right? The King in Yellow...? He’s kind of a big deal... And Yog-Sothoth, who is also a pretty big deal. And with these two, Shub-Niggurath has had many, many children. Through mating with Hastur, because yes, they had nasty monster sex, she has birthed Ithaqua, Zhar, J'Zahar, and the "Thousand Young", otherwise known as The Dark Young of Shub-Niggurath I mentioned above... That must have been some sex if she’s still popping those little things out even now... And Yog-Sothoth is the father of the twins, Nug and Yeb. (Some speculated that Hastur may be their father instead of Yog-Sothoth, but that makes no sense when you look at the family tree. But who am I to say what does and doesn’t make sense when you are dealing with creatures that will drive you insane if you even look at them?)

But enough about Shub-Niggurath’s sex life. She’s the hot polyamorous MILF of the eldritch world. We get it... You know what else she has going for her? Cults.

Of all the eldritch deities, Shub-Niggurath is probably the most extensively worshiped. But can you blame her? Who wouldn’t want to worship that hot little number? Her worshipers include the Hyperboreans, the Muvians, T'yog of K'naa, and the people of Sarnath (although that didn’t go so well for Sarnath) as well as any number of druidic and barbaric cults. And if that’s not enough she’s also worshiped by non-human species on other planets such as the "Fungi from Yuggoth", otherwise known as the Mi-Go, and the Nug-Soth of Yaddith. So if you ever need a cult worshiping an eldritch deity in your game and you aren’t sure what eldritch deity to use, just remember, pretty much everyone worships Shub-Niggurath. You can go to other planets and still find people worshiping Shub-Niggurath...

And do you know what’s cool about worshiping Shub-Niggurath? With the proper occult paraphernalia, Shub-Niggurath can be summoned to any woodlands at the time of the new moon. Summoning other gods is a bunch of complicated bullshit that may not even work because they are fucking gods and can just decide, nah... I’m not interested in showing up for you... But Shub-Niggurath is a people pleaser. All you need are the right components, say a little chant, give a little blood offering... And just like that you’ve got an actual goddess in front of you.

Although I should note that the place from whence she comes is not known. One possibility is that she dwells at the court of Azathoth at the center of the universe. She may also live beneath the planet Yaddith, where she is served by the Dholes. Those are huge, slimy worm creatures that are at least several hundred feet long... It is also possible that she lives in another dimension altogether. So even though she’s a reliable goddess who will actually pop in when you call her, she probably has quite a long ways to travel to get to you, so I wouldn’t go summoning her needlessly. Anyone would be grumpy after making a commute like that...

The Dark Young can also be summoned. They are usually called upon to preside over cult ceremonies. One means for summoning them requires a blood offering. The ritual may only be performed in the deep of the woodlands at the darkest of the moon, and the victim must be sacrificed over a stone altar. Dark young act as proxies for Shub-Niggurath in the accepting of sacrifices, the worship of cultists, in the devouring of non-cultists, and in the spreading of their mother's faith across the world. So unless it’s something big and you just have to have Shub-Niggurath herself, I would probably recommend summoning one of these things instead.

And that’s all well and great for your cultists... but what about a Warlock PC? What’s he going to get out of taking Shub-Niggurath as his patron? Well this is where things start to get a little freakier... and a little kinkier... But what did you expect? Shub-Niggurath is a kinky girl.

For starters, let’s talk about the Milk of Shub Niggurath. That’s right... I said milk... Remember, I did say that Shub Niggurath was a fertility goddess. Her milk has properties that mutate those who drink it into a monstrous hybrid creature. And you may be thinking, hold on... Why would I want to be turned into a tentacle monster? Well there’s a plus side to it too... The tentacle thing is just a side effect. But her purple milk (yeah, it’s purple) cures the drinker of all non-magical diseases and physical damage and status effects. The drinker also gains a +4 bonus to Strength and Constitution for 1d4 weeks.

So think of it a sort of a cure all. Get all you hit points back, fix up any scrapes you may have taken, wipe out any (non-magical) diseases you may have picked up, and removes status effects while granting you a +4 to Strength and Constitution? You show me one potion that can do all of that... That’s a pretty fantastic potion. And all you have to do to get it is summon a gigantic mass of tentacles, who happens to be your goddess, and ask her to let you milk her... No big deal, right?

I mean, aside from the mental image you are trying to burn out of your mind now, it shouldn’t be that bad. This is Shub-Niggurath we’re talking about. She’d probably be into it.

And yes... there is a down side to it... Unless the drinker succeeds at a DC 20 Constitution saving throw, it transforms into an insane outer mutant at the end of that 1d4 weeks. A second dose of this milk accelerates the process, causing the drinker’s mutations to become more prominent and stranger and doubling the speed of the transformation. By the third drink, the drinker goes insane, and becomes a monster on the following round. But it’s not all bad. The milk is a curse and a poison, so anything that will cure poison or remove a curse will end its effects before the transformation is complete. Just not more of the Milk... I know I said the milk cures status effects but the DM shouldn’t allow it to cure status effects caused by the milk itself. That’s like trying to cure poison by drinking more poison.

After complete transformation, only a wish can undo the effect.

As for what an Outer Mutant looks like if the player doesn’t cure himself, there are any number of things you could come up with, but a good suggestion is to just borrow the Aboleth disease from the Aboleth‘s tentacle attack in the monster manual, minus the cure since we already established that only a wish can cure it... and maybe throw on a few tentacles or something. Or since this is The Black Goat of the Woods we are talking about, you could always modify the Aboleth disease and say instead of having to be in water, the player has to be in the forest or something like that.

Just whatever you do, make sure becoming an Outer Mutant is a big enough inconvenience for the player that they won’t want to willingly become one.

But if Shub-Niggurath’s milk isn’t disturbing enough, (and let’s face it, if you are using a Lovecraftian horror in your game, you WANT the people at the table to be disturbed) let’s talk about the Gof'nn hupadgh Shub-Niggurath.

"Gof'nn hupadgh Shub-Niggurath" is the name given to the favored, once-human worshipers of Shub-Niggurath. When the deity deems a worshiper to be most worthy, a special ceremony is held in which the Black Goat of the Woods swallows the initiate through her womb and then rebirths the cultist as a transformed satyr-like being. A changed worshiper is also endowed with immortal life.

That’s right... I just brought unbirthing to the table. Now you are making everyone uncomfortable. Except that one guy who happens to have an unbirthing fetish... But everyone else is feeling really uncomfortable. And that one guy is probably pretending to be uncomfortable so no one realizes he’s into unbirthing... (It’s cool dude. I feel ya.)

But other than making everyone at the table squirm in their seats at the thought of someone getting shoved up Shub-Niggurath’s hoo-hah and deposited inside her womb to become her child, look at the befits a warlock would gain from such a thing.

First change the character’s race to Satyr. Do not recalculate its stats, but give the character the Satyr’s Magic Resistance as well as its Ram attack and Panpipe ability. Also the character is now immortal. As a DM the way I would run this is, the character can still die if he drops to 0 hit points, but I wouldn’t allow for permadeath outside of being eaten by another eldritch horror, like Shub-Niggurath herself... or by a tarrasque... Because those things stomachs can destroy anything... But if the character does drop to 0 hit points and dies I would have him auto resurrect the following day.

And finally, the character is now one of Shub-Niggurath’s favorites so I would give the character one at-will use of Divine Intervention per week. Maybe as many as two or three uses per week at higher levels. But that would be up to each individual DM.

All in all that’s a pretty good trade off in exchange for the unpleasantness of being shoved up Shub-Niggurath’s lady parts and having to call her Mommy... and the strong chance of being killed instantly after...

Oh yeah, did I forget to mention that? Remember what I said before? Shub-Niggurath eats her own young. Anything that doesn’t get away in time after being born just gets eaten back up. That’s going to include a gof'nn hupadgh Shub-Niggurath. If a character decides to become one, he’s only her favorite providing he can get away in time... So I’d make the player make a very high Dex save to get out of the way as soon as he is reborn or be eaten by Shub-Niggurath and permakilled.

Being an immortal satyr with free at-will uses of Divine Intervention would make a character kind of OP, so make the risk involved pretty high. Don’t just give it to your players. Make them complete some kind of task for Shub-Niggurath to even be considered worthy of becoming a gof'nn hupadgh Shub-Niggurath. And not a simple task either... And then once Shub-Niggurath has finally agreed to go through with it, hit them with that insane Dex save right there at the end. Maybe a DC 25 Dex save or something like that... Make sure it’s something that the character can actually roll, but has a slim chance of getting. This is one of those things where you either become very OP or die trying. There is no in between. And if it proves to be too hard and your player’s character dies... oh well... This is what happens when you deal with Great Old Ones...

But enough about what a warlock can do with Shub-Niggurath. Let’s get back to what the DM can do with her. One thing the DM should keep in mind is that Shub-Niggurath has many avatars. I mean, she doesn’t become the most worshiped Outer Goddess/Great Old One in the universe by using only one face... So the DM should remember that he can have her appear any number of ways.

We already walked about her true form, but you could also use The Black Goat. The avatar of the goat is the figurehead through which Shub-Niggurath is worshiped. The most common depiction of the Black Goat is as a male. That’s right. We’re talking about the devil here.

Who knew that Satan was just an avatar for Shub-Niggurath...?

But she doesn’t have to appear as male. She’s Shub-Niggurath. She can appear however she wants. So the Black Goat can just as easily be female too. Whatever works best for the situation because this earthly form of Shub-Niggurath is an incarnation she assumes to copulate with her worshipers.

Because, oh yeah... that’s a thing too... That little eldritch slut is totally down for banging her worshipers. Which may explain why she has so many... Who else can say, oh yeah... my god is also my lover? Well... I guess some of the worshipers of Zeus... But we aren’t talking about him.

Oh but speaking of the Greek Pantheon, that brings us to another avatar of Shub-Niggurath. Did you know she’s also in the Greek Pantheon in your player’s handbook? I’ll bet you didn’t... That’s because she’s a deceitful little bitch who has had you fooled. Turns out, another avatar of Shub-Niggurath is none other than... Pan!

Yeah, turns out all those people worshiping pan have actually been deceived into worshiping Shub-Niggurath all along. But what did you honestly expect from a woman who also happens to be Satan in one of her other forms?

But wait, you may be saying... If Pan is in the Greek Pantheon in the player’s handbook, and Pan is just an avatar of Shub-Niggurath, does that mean that we now know Shub-Niggurath’s alignment by looking at Pan’s alignment? Is Shub-Niggurath Chaotic Neutral?

I’d say yes. Shub-Niggurath is neither evil nor good. She simply is. Questions surrounding the morality of her actions can not be answered because they are not comprehendable by human minds. Just like the eldritch horrors themselves. To try to understand them is to know madness. So Chaotic Neutral is actually the perfect alignment for her. But that’s really going to be up to the DM to decide how they want to play her. Remember, I’m just collecting all the info from as many different sources as I can find and compiling it here in one place so you can homebrew her. I’ll be sharing the homebrew I use in connection with this info here at the end, but that doesn’t mean anything I say should be set in stone. Feel free to use this info to tweak your own Shub-Niggurath however you would like.

But moving on, there’s one more avatar of Shub-Niggurath I’ve been able to find. The Magna Mater, or the Great Mother, is a goddess worshiped since before Roman times. I unfortunately don’t know much about this particular avatar of Shub-Niggurath other than that she was mentioned in Lovecraft’s “Rats in the Walls” and “The Horror at Red Hook”. But that is another avatar of Shub-Niggurath.

There’s one more bit of info about our girl Shub that the DM may want to have just in case it ever comes up so let’s talk about that before I get to the fun part. The family tree. Because these eldritch horrors have a family tree almost as bad as the Greek gods.

Shub-Niggurath was born from The Unnamed Darkness, who is one of the three children of Azathoth, the very first god. So Azathoth, the big boy himself, is Shub-Niggurath’s grandfather. This also makes The Nameless Mist and the great Nyarlathotep Shub-Niggurath’s uncles. Or aunts? It’s hard to tell the gender with some of these unknowable horrors. If they even have gender at all... (The early ones all seem to just reproduce asexually.) Now, The Nameless Mist gave birth to Yog-Sothoth, making him Shub-Niggurath’s cousin, who she also married... Eldritch horrors seem to do a lot of keeping it in the family... Officially (as in not counting the speculations some people have) Yog-Sothoth and Shub-Niggurath mated and Shub-Niggurath gave birth to the twins, Nug and Yep. Yep gave birth to Tsathoggua, and Nug gave birth to the only one anyone really cares about, Cthulhu himself. So this makes Shub-Niggurath the grandmother of Cthulhu. And also Tsathoggua but no one cares about him...

Now here’s where things start to get a bit more inbred... Yog-Sothoth mated with it’s parent, The Nameless Mist, and Yog-Sothoth gave birth to Hastur, The King in Yellow. So this makes Hastur Cthulhu‘s half brother, but more importantly, Shub-Niggurath’s step-son (as well as her cousin at the same time). Shub-Niggurath then took her step-son/cousin, Hastur, as her second husband and through mating with him, gave birth to Ithaqua, Zhar, J'Zahar, and The Thousand Young. Which incidentally makes Shub-Niggurath their mother, step-grandmother, and second cousin all at the same time... (And before you start singing “I’m my own Grandpa”, that title is reserved for Cthulhu.)

But now that you know the more immediate parts of the twisted family tree, let’s get to the fun part. What if a DM wants to actually use Shub-Niggurath as an actual monster you can fight in his game?

For creating Shub-Niggurath as a combat monster I use a slightly modified version of stats created by enworld.org contributor, Mike Myler. (Who made a really great Shub-Niggurath but it just wasn’t quite what I wanted.)

Shub-Niggurath

Colossal aberration (great old one or outer god), chaotic neutral

Armor Class 27 (natural armor) Hit Points 682 (35d20+315) Speed 30 ft., fly 80 ft. (hover) 

STR​  27 (+8)​ DEX​  18 (+4)​ CON​  28 (+9)​ INT​  21 (+5)​ WIS​  23 (+6)​ CHA​  24 (+7)​ 

Skills Arcana +14, Insight +15, Nature +14, Religion +14, Stealth +13 Damage Resistances cold, necrotic; bludgeoning, piercing, and slashing from magical or cold iron weapons Damage Immunities acid, fire, lightning, poison; bludgeoning, piercing, and slashing from nonmagical weapons not made from cold iron Condition Immunities charmed, diseased, frightened, paralyzed, petrified, poisoned Senses darkvision 120 ft., truesight, passive Perception 16 Languages Deep Speech; telepathy 300 ft. Challenge 30 (155,000 XP) 

Immortality. When Shub-Niggurath is slain, her form shrivels and compresses in on itself before exploding in a wave of milky fluid in a 200-foot radius. Any creature that comes into contact with the milky fluid makes a DC 25 Constitution saving throw. On a failed save, it is transformed into a random creature of an equal or lower CR, or a creature with a CR no higher than its level. A transformed creature makes a DC 24 Wisdom saving throw, keeping its intelligence and memories on a success. When all of the creatures transformed by the milky fluid have died, Shub-Niggurath is resurrected. 

Innate Spellcasting. Shub-Niggurath’s innate spellcasting ability is Charisma (spell save DC 24; spell attack +16). She can innately cast the following spells, requiring no material components: 

Constant: freedom of movement, true seeing At will: hunger of hadar, dispel magic, dream, project image, sending 3/day: suggestion, feeblemind, symbol, weird​

Insanity. Any creature that attempts to interact directly with Shub-Niggurath’s thoughts (such as via detect thoughts or telepathy) must succeed at DC 24 Wisdom saving throw or gain a long-term madness. When using her telepathy to communicate Shub-Niggurath doesn't activate this feature unless she spends an action to focus her mind on one opponent.

Legendary Resistance (3/Day). If Shub-Niggurath fails a saving throw, she can choose to succeed instead.

Magic Resistance. Shub-Niggurath has advantage on saving throws against spells and other magical effects.

Regeneration. Shub-Niggurath regains 20 hit points at the start of her turn if she has at least 1 hit point. Shub-Niggurath dies only if she starts her turn with 0 hit points.

ACTIONS

Multiattack. Shub-Niggurath can use her Endless Spawn and Frightful Presence. She then makes seven attacks: one with her bite and six with her tentacles.

Bite. Melee Weapon Attack: +17 to hit, reach 20 ft., one target. Hit: 26 (4d8+8) piercing damage. If the target is a creature it is grappled (escape DC 25). Until this grapple ends, the creature is restrained, and Shub-Niggurath can't use her bite to grapple another target. 

Consume. If a creature starts its turn grappled by the Bite attack, it must make another DC 25 strength save to escape. On a failed save the creature is swallowed whole. A swallowed creature is blinded and restrained and has total cover against attacks and other effects outside of Shub-Niggurath. It takes 21 (6d6) acid damage at the start of each of Shub-Niggurath’s turns. Shub-Niggurath can have as many creatures swallowed at a time as it wants. A swallowed creature can only escape if Shub-Niggurath is killed. If a swallowed creature drops to 0 hit points while inside Shub-Niggurath’s stomach it does not make death saving throws and its body is dissolved. The soul of a digested creature does not pass on to the afterlife and remains imprisoned inside Shub-Niggurath’s stomach until it too is digested and becomes nothing. Souls inside Shub-Niggurath’s stomach take 1d20 years to digest and can not be brought back through any means of resurrection while trapped inside Shub-Niggurath. If Shub-Niggurath is killed before the soul is digested the soul is freed and instantly passes on to the afterlife.

Tentacle. Melee Weapon Attack: +17 to hit, reach 25 ft., one target. Hit: 22 (4d6+8) bludgeoning damage. If the target is a creature it is grappled (escape DC 25). Until this grapple ends, the creature is restrained, and Shub-Niggurath can't use the tentacle to grapple another target (although Shub-Niggurath has an endless number of tentacles).

Frightful Presence. Each creature of Shub-Niggurath’s choice that is within 120 feet of her and aware of her must succeed on a DC 24 Wisdom saving throw or become frightened for 1 minute. A creature can repeat the saving throw at the end of each of its turns, ending the effect on itself on a success. If a creature’s saving throw is successful or the effect ends for it, the creature is immune to Shub-Niggurath’s Frightful Presence for the next minute.

Endless Spawn (Recharge 4-6). Shub-Niggurath births Dark Young that she can mentally command. These Dark Young are loyal to her and defend Shub-Niggurath with their lives. Roll 2d6 to determine the amount of Dark Young she births per turn.

Dark Young (Produced Endless Spawn)

Huge aberration, chaotic neutral 

Armor Class 16 (natural armor) Hit Points 168 (16d12 + 24) Speed 40 ft., swim 30 ft. 

STR ​ 22 (+6) DEX​ 10 (+0) CON​ 18 (+4) INT​ 10 (+0) WIS​ 16 (+3) CHA​ 7 (-2)

Condition Immunities blinded Senses blindsight 60 ft., passive Perception 13 Languages Deep Speech; telepathy 100 ft. Challenge 8 (3,900 XP) 

False Appearance. While the dark young remains motionless, it is indistinguishable from a mangrove tree while in the dark.

Trample. When the dark young moves at least 20 feet in a straight line, all creatures within 5 feet its path have to make a successful DC 15 Strength saving throw or fall prone. The dark young can make a stomp attack against one prone target as a bonus action.

ACTIONS 

Multiattack. The dark young makes two attacks: one with its tentacle and one with its bite. 

Tentacle. Melee Weapon Attack: +9 to hit, reach 15 ft., one target. Hit: 15 (2d8 + 6) bludgeoning damage. The target is grappled (escape DC 17). If the target is Large or smaller, it is also restrained until this grapple ends. While grappling the target, the dark young has advantage on attack rolls against it. The dark young has four tentacles, each of which can grapple only one target. When the dark young moves, any Large or smaller target it is grappling moves with it.

Bite. Melee Weapon Attack: +9 to hit, reach 5 ft., one target. Hit: 19 (3d8 + 6) piercing damage. 

Stomp. Melee Weapon Attack: +9 to hit, reach 5 ft., one prone creature. Hit: 24 (4d8 + 6) bludgeoning damage.

And there you have it. Shub-Niggurath in all her glory. Give that beautiful girl a try in your game next time you need an eldritch beasty and see how it goes. And remember, Shub-Niggurath wants you to use her in your game. There’s a reason she’s the most accessible Goddess in the eldritch pantheon. She wants to be summoned and ushered into our world. So don’t keep her waiting.

[douxreviews]

Cloak and Dagger - ‘Vikingtown Sound’ Review

"You have the face of a system that has done nothing but hold me and mine down."

Cloak and Dagger starts laying out some answers as season two heads into the home stretch.

But Ty's mom, though...

We got a few big reveals in this one, and yet none of them feel nearly as compelling as every single moment of Connors and Adina Johnson's discussion over dinner prep. That just shouldn't be possible.

Let's start with some talk about those revelations, because there's a lot to talk about and I don't want them to seem like an afterthought after I go on a good long rave about Gloria Reuben. Spoiler alert: I'm going to go on a good long rave about Gloria Reuben.

After a few notable teases of the mystery veve, most notably in all of the picture frames in Ty's family home inside Tandy's dreamworld last episode, we get the reveal of whose veve it is. It turns out to be one of those reveals that makes you think, 'I should have thought of that,' and yet is still a surprise. The answer, as is obvious in hindsight, is that it's Andre's veve. The twist here being that Andre himself didn't know that until now. That's a clever way to obfuscate the issue. Andre's lack of recognition of the symbol made it seem clear that it must belong to someone else, but of course who else would have caused it to be plastered all over the inside of the visions that Andre was causing Tandy to have. He just didn't know he was doing it.

So Andre is on the cusp of becoming a loa, and had no idea. That's an interesting development, and casts a whole new light on what he's been trying to accomplish this season. It turns out that so far all he's been after is to use the despair of kidnapped girls to make his migraine pain go away and didn't really have a bigger picture goal. Now we find out that the bigger picture had a larger goal for him.

Great use of Auntie Chantelle this week, as relates to this plotline. It made perfect logistic sense that Andre would find Chantelle in Ty's memories and immediately go to her to get some answers about this mysterious veve that he's finding everywhere. It was also satisfying that Chantelle was perfectly honest and straightforward with him, not even being ruffled by the abrupt transition into his 'record store.' Chantelle hasn't always been well used by the show, and it was nice to see her get some good material here. Particularly if she's really dead as the show seemed to indicate. It's hard to be certain; from what we saw it appears that Andre slowed her heart to a stop, trapping her spirit in her happiest memory. At least I think that's what happened, it leaned kind of heavily into visual metaphor, so it's hard to say.

That's not a flaw, buy the way. I'll take 'atmospheric, moving, and vaguely defined' over 'detailed and boring' any day of the week. And it was touching, if unsurprising, that her happiest memory was the birth of her niece Evita. The record seemed to be leading up to Chantelle giving her sister some bad news that she only specifies with 'No, not Evita...' I think we were finally just told why Evita was raised by her aunt. Goodbye Auntie Chantelle. We'll probably never get to learn where you got that 3-D printer now.

In other reveals, Tandy has finally arrived at the Viking Motel, final destination for the kidnapped girls. After weeks of speculation as to what could be going on there, it turns out to be the saddest and least surprising explanation. The girls are there to clean during the day and then get pimped out at night. Although the show is incredibly discreet and tasteful about how explicitly it states that second part. I think in this specific circumstances, that was the right call. There's certainly an argument to be made that if you're going to depict sex slavery that you have an obligation to make it as confrontationally blunt as possible in order to get across how horrific the issue really is. In this case, however, I think the decision to leave the johns as almost entirely faceless and the details of what was happening only implied was the right one because it allowed the focus to remain on the girls as the real victims of the situation. As I said, opinions may legitimately vary on that point.

One thing that didn't entirely gel this week was the way they were using the metaphor of 'losing all your hope' as the real chains that kept the girls in the motel and in slavery. I get what they were going for with that, but it gets muddy when they're also using hope as a real and tangible 'thing' that powers Tandy's light knives. And so the 'imprisoned by the absence of hope' metaphor works in the case of Del; that's absolutely what keeps her from being able to walk out the open door when it's offered to her. But that's absolutely not the case for Tandy. She's not held back by despair, she's held back by a big security guard who physically carries her back inside. They're playing the 'absence of hope' thing metaphorically in one case and literally in another, largely because that allows them to cancel Tandy's powers for a bit, and the two never really dovetail with one another. It's a minor point, but it bugged me a little bit. Not so much that I didn't grin like an idiot when the act of inspiring hope in Del caused Tandy to regrow her own hope, all of which was conveyed to the viewer by the simple device of shining a light on Olivia Holt from below at a key moment.

Meanwhile, Ty gets briefly sidetracked by a run in with Andre and appears to be going the route of despair, but is saved by Mayhem, still trapped in the dark dimension, simply changing the record being played in Andre's store. More, she saves him by using the 'Tandy's perfect life' record that we saw being played last week, which was just a really wonderful tie back to prop detail as metaphor, which is something this show really excels at.

OK, let's talk Adina Johnson and her hostage, Connors.

Everything about this series of scenes was brilliant. Well written, well acted, just note-perfect drama. From the way the dynamic is established with Adina setting the starting point for their discussion through to its resolution, this was raw and real and you could really just excise these scenes from the rest of the series entirely and do them as a one act play, because any outside info you need to understand what's happening is given to you quite naturally in the dialogue. Actually, could someone please do that?

Adina sets up an interesting dilemma for herself. She needs to determine if Ty's need to have Connors alive so that he can clear his name outweighs her need for him to pay for Billy's death. That is one hell of an ethical riddle, and addressing it through the preparation of food was a great conceit. When the meal is ready and Adina goes to the cupboard, it's absolutely crystal clear what we're waiting to be told and how we're going to be told it. If she takes out two plates, Connors lives. If she takes out one, Connors dies. It could not read clearer that that's the situation and it's never even hinted at in the dialogue. I'm not sure how much of that is good writing and how much of it is good directing, but it's amazing. I was on the edge of my seat over dinnerware.

Bits and Pieces:

-- I'm worried about how Evita is going to react to the events of this episode. Now I think of it, Evita has always been kind of a wild card.

-- It's a little odd how the records being played in Andre's dimension affect reality. For example, it was a great visual and really told the story well, but how exactly did playing 'Tandy's Perfect Life' pull a dozen child ballerinas into existence? Or the ambulances that get summoned later?

-- When Ty and Andre clasped hands, Andre read Ty, not a hint of the other way around. Is Andre stronger than Ty? Has he just had more practice? Is it because Ty's powers are so linked with Tandy's and she wasn't there? I'm curious.

-- I adore how little care Mayhem took in putting the records back after she played them.

-- Was Ty's collapse at the end because Mayhem trashed the record store? His dark dimension seemed to be bleeding out of him, and it was intercut with Mayhem trashing the place, so it feels like those are connected. Time will tell.

-- For a metaphorical despair catalog, the record store had a surprising amount of object permanence. Changes Mayhem made to it were still there when Andre came back, so it isn't just a visualization of a metaphor.

-- I didn't expect them to take down the trafficking ring this quickly. They must need to clear that plot out of the way to get to Andre's ascension. Only three episodes left.

-- Connors knows where the real Billy's body has been all this time. That makes them claiming to need 'extra evidence' a couple episodes back even more ridiculous. The actual body, with DNA matching Adina and Otis would probably have been pretty persuasive.

-- They're really building up Connors' off screen Uncle as a threat. I wonder if he's been cast yet. Will he be the villain in season three? Because we're going to get a season three... right?

-- It's a minor point, but Lea knows Tandy's mom. Melissa Bowen has been going to that same group. How is she not remotely worried about her?

-- The opening image of the missing girls flyer falling down and being taken away in a garbage truck was not subtle imagery.

Quotes:

Adina: "I’m in kind of a bind here. Stuck between two forces." Connors: "Good and Evil?" Adina: "Billy and Tyrone."

Del: "My dad was a hammer. My mom was a nail."

Connors: "I get a call from a resident, says that she saw a young man in a hoodie skulking about." Adina: "A young man, or a young black man?" Connors: "She used a different word."

Andre: "What does my symbol mean?" Chantelle: "I’m not so sure I’m keen on telling you that right now."

Chantelle: "If you can’t be merciful when you play god, what kind of god will you be when you ain’t playin’ no more?"

Another great episode, marred only slightly by a couple of small thematic metaphor things that felt a little bit unreconciled to me. Not nearly enough so to spoil the story, however.

Three and a half out of four place settings.

The 'next time' preview seemed to indicate that I was inadvertently right about something last week. That's always a nice feeling.

Mikey Heinrich is, among other things, a freelance writer, volunteer firefighter, and roughly 78% water.

[scriptaed]

Ink Nemesis | 01

Genre: Angst/Fluff || paparazzi!au; fake dating!au;

Pairing: Reader x Yoongi

Length: 9.0k

Synopsis: As an aspiring writer drowning under the public’s radar, a click of the pen is all you need to accept your supervisor’s offer to co-write an article for the SS - Secrets Spilled, a regular section of your company’s weekly tabloid; but fabricated stories and invasive details aren’t all that you write when you discover Min Yoongi’s dirty little secret.

Writing has always been one of your greatest nemeses. A half-filled ink pen and a quarter scribbled paper have gradually become ingrained into the mundane life you bear as an unsuccessful journalist. An inevitable crash is only to be expected of from partaking in a love-hate relationship with the supposed passion of your life.

Inspiration comes to you like starting a fire with two simple albeit seemingly useless sticks; only after hours and hours of rubbing and thrashing and grinding, a spark is ignited in your mind and the words come flowing hours-on-end akin to the first sparks of flames prospering in the bonfire set ablaze. Most times, however, kindling fires only result in bruised and blistered palms, for your efforts prove to be futile when all you manage to run into is yet another wall.

But you chose this life, and as much of an eye-opener to the cruel reality of adulthood when all your youthful passion has been exchanged for a life of barely making ends meet, you can’t imagine a future without your arch-enemy; because somewhere along your naive adolescent years, you had willingly dedicated yourself to the wonders of literature. An aspiring writer, novelist, reporter, a journalist who documents both reality and fantasy into the eternity of ink and paper, that’s who you strive to be.

Second to the treacherous world of modern journalism falls the art of self-denial. Only in times like this, when you’re sinking in the back of your reclining, swiveling black office chair and drowning in the piles of work you know would go unnoticed by the universe and staring up into the dozens of varying shades of gray room are you forced to come to terms with the harsh truth. 

Papers filing and flipping, pens scribbling all-too-roughly against innocent victims that is A4 size white sheets, printers huffing and puffing back to life, squeaky silver cabinets drawn open, whispers of the latest gossip hissing straight from the break room in the back, and the oh-so-dreadful tick of the clock’s hand hammer along to an incomprehensible symphony at the loss of a conductor until it all erupts in your throbbing head and you’re forced to storm outside in hopes for some actual peaceful silence.

Today seems to be yet another one of those uneventful days, but whether for the good or bad, the fateful offer that is soon to turn your world upside-down will be one you wish you hadn’t stumbled upon in times to come.

“Oh, Y/N!”

The first thing you see the second you step foot onto the balcony of the twenty seventh floor is the sight of your advisor, five years your senior, whirling around to face you. Never mind the shadow casted upon the entirety of the already grim looking balcony of the looming skyscraper of your company’s building behind you, because plastered all over her once fallen expression is the brightest grin you’ve seen her wear in a while.

“At least someone looks happy today,” you muse, burying your hands in the pockets of your black longline blazer and joining her by the ledge side. “So, what’s up, Solji?”

“Oh, nothing,” she cheekily smiles; the glint of sunlight lands perfectly on her fiery orange locks, as if to further reinforce the contradictory message conveyed in the raise of her cheeks.

You roll your eyes and snort, “you can’t tell me ‘oh, it’s nothing’ with a grin like that. Come on, I want to hear some good news around here for once.” With one good nudge of your elbow, your supervisor breaks into an overjoyed cackle. “What’s the real reason behind that goofy smile of yours—”

“—I’m going on a honeymoon!”

“You’re what?” you narrow your eyes at her in disbelief, ignoring her as she jumps in place and giddily claps her hand. “Why a honeymoon?”

“Well, we only have enough saved up for a honeymoon so far. I don’t think a wedding is even  plausible at this point,” she pauses and puts a finger to her chin, “actually, maybe that’ll change in a month or so considering how well SS has been doing.”

You snort, “no, I meant why a honeymoon before even getting married. Your boyfriend hasn’t even proposed…” In the midst of your sentence, she raises her jazz hands and the gleaming ring wrapped around her finger is all she needs to strike you silent. “...no. way.”

“Yes way,” she coos and wiggles her brows.

“Oh my goodness!” you scream and she joins along as the both of you jump in a circle.  Grabbing her hand in both of yours, you can barely contain the excitement coursing through your veins, “congratulations! I’m so so happy for you!”

“Really?” she exclaims and halts you from further prancing when she holds your hands and keeps you planted to the ground. “Enough to cover me and the SS for a day?!”

“Psh, yeah, anything for my supervisor— wait what?” you deadpan. “D-did I hear you right? Me? Write for your little project so called Spilled Secrets? Nuh-uh. I did not get a degree to write for some silly teenage targeted tabloid.”

“Hey! Don't call my baby that! It's not ‘little,’ it's a regular feature in our company's weekly magazine!” Solji huffs and crosses her arms with a pout. “Why not, Y/N? You can really get your name out there  you know. It's a great opportunity! Haven't you been begging the company for that since forever?”

“Yeah, but I don't want to succeed through what is essentially and quite blatantly intruding on someone's privacy!” you shake your head and turn away from Solji’s desperate pleas surfing in her puppy-like eyes. “They might be celebrities, but they're still people. And plus, I don't want to use my writing for that. I want to be recognized for my penmanship, not my ability to scrape up any juicy info on the hottest boy group in town.”

“Oh, c’mon, you make it sound like it's so bad—” she stops mid-sentence when you glare at her out of irony “—okay, I know it's a terrible and dehumanizing thing to do, but look where it's gotten me. I have piles of work and offers lined up for me, and yes, while they all are related to some gossip write-up in one way shape or form, at least my writing is being published and actually being read by millions around the world.”

The tapping of your finger against your left arm only adds to your fuel as you sigh, “but Solji, don't you want to write something more than these… these modern, nearly incoherent lingo of paragraphs I—no, us journalists— can't even call articles? I mean, don't you at least think your writing is worth more than that?”

Solji blinks at you in silence and deep thought about how to approach you, her advisee. Finally, she sighs and begins twiddling her thumb with her elbows resting on the ledge of the balcony, “look, Y/N, I know what you’re talking about, how you’re feeling, and the situation you’re in as a novice in this industry. You’re struggling, you’re young and you’ve been dreaming of something more than this…” her brows knit as she points to the office where you had just exited, “being trapped in a corner and writing for something invisible to not only the company but also the world? That’s not the world you dreamed about, and I know because I’ve been there before, Y/N.”

“If you’re here to lecture me about your road to success because you’re five years older and five years wiser, then I think I can skip out this millionth time,” you frown and take a few steps back towards the dungeon of your cubicle, but before you can do so, Solji grabs your hands to stop you from further movement.

“Y/N, I’m telling you this because out of all of my advisees, I care about you the most and I want you to succeed!” she clears her throat when you just blink blankly at her, and you can see the desperation to get her message through your stubborn mind stirring in every motion of her body language. “I know it’s a bad thing to do, Y/N. I don’t want to dress up as a paparazzi and stick these cameras in front of celebrities’ faces, but you know I had to. Starting this entire project, SS,” she shakes her head and hunches her shoulders, “it was my last resort to finally break it into this industry. I was a young adult. I didn’t have the fiance I have now. I was crazy about the new boy group BTS, and I saw everyone else starting these tabloids on celebrities and making good money, so I thought it was perfectly okay.”

“You’re right,” you emphasize and furrow your brows. “It does make good money and you’re more well known now than you ever were without it, so why are you still relying on SS?”

“Because I have to, Y/N!” she articulates, shutting her eyes and breathing out her frustration as she squeezes warmth into your freezing hands. “I didn’t expect SS to blow up like it did, and now the company wants me to continue expanding the project so they can reap more revenue. They don’t care about their writers, Y/N, they care about money. So in times like this, the harsh reality of adulthood compels you to take things into your own matter. And as terrible as the SS is morally, it’s also been a blessing in disguise for my career.”

You don’t notice it until a cold breeze envelops you in the wrath of the winter, but your body is shivering, your feet has stopped tapping impatiently on the concrete floor, and your mind has halted for a brief moment to consider her persuasion. You completely understand her point of view and why she had to do the things she did just to be able to pay her rent and continue working in an industry which ignored her talents, but you don’t want to utilize your writing for the immoral ethics surrounding the entire foundation of the project. The boys deserve better and so do you.

After ten dreadful minutes of deafening silence, Solji pulls you by your hand and tilts her head to the side to get a better view of your contemplating eyes glued to the ground, “if not to get your name out there in the writing industry, then at least do it for me. You can use a pen name if you really want.”

“I don’t know…”

Solji sighs after seeing your hesitation, “I don’t want to hurt you when I say this, Y/N, but, well, how are things going on your side right now?”

If you were being honest with yourself, you know you’re at an all-time low. The amount of views on the short stories your company only allows you to publish deep in the vast, elaborate website of theirs is barely enough to meet your monthly requirements, not to mention how disheartening and damaging it is to your motivation to even continue writing, so there isn’t much you can argue against your supervisor on this topic. Sheepishly, you turn your head to the side and lower your eyes in shame.

“I don’t get it,” you shake your head and cinch your brows, “why don’t you just request a day off from your boss?”

Your supervisor takes a deep breath and exhales in one loud huff, turning around to look out into the distance, “he hasn’t allowed me to take a day off except for holidays ever since SS took off, and he definitely won’t agree today now that BTS is holding the grand premiere to their documentary tonight...”

The look in her eyes as she searches for a meaning behind all that she’s given up, her morals behind invading others’ privacy, her sleep made evident in her eye bags, and now maybe even the love of her life strikes all too familiar with you. 

After all the times Solji has pulled through to help you, can you really turn a blind eye to her now? She’s just asking for this one day off, this one request from her advisee, which she isn’t even required to ask when can order, but the world seems to deny her of the one time in five years since she’s prioritized herself over others. Plus, she’s right; you can use a pseudonym if you really think this is morally incorrect and want to make a name out of yourself based solely on your talents.

“...okay, just this once, right?” you barely manage to mutter.

“Huh?” her ears perk and her head turns to reveal her widened eyes stuck in disbelief.

You take a deep breath and sigh, crossing your arms and raising your voice, “I said fine. I’ll do this for you.”

“Really?!” she shrieks and ecstatically brings you into a bear hug before pulling back to grin at you from cheek to cheek. “I knew I could always count on my best advisee!”

“But it’s a one time thing!” you warn her with raised brows.

“Of course, of course. I wouldn’t want to drag you into this corrupted side of the industry anyways,” she smiles, but her words tug at your heartstrings, for the reality of the world and the gap in naivety between the youth and the experienced is made all too apparent underneath a simple sentence. Solji digs into the pockets of her cardigan to grab her keys and starts mumbling about the hectic schedule she has in plans for you, “okay, so the premiere starts at around 7 tonight. Make sure you arrive an hour early before the other swarm of reporters arrive. I’ll just hand you my DSLR and a few pictures of the boys from my car.”

“Pictures of the boys?” you question.

“Well, if you’re going to do this job for me, you have to at least know who you’re taking pictures of, right?” she laughs and strides back towards the office. You watch each one of her steps drown you in deeper waters of trouble you just know you had signed up for before she slides open the glass door and calls out over her shoulder, “oh, also, remember to update my blog along with writing up an article for the SS! I’ll text you the username and password.”

You nod your head and give her an ‘okay’ signal with your right hand—a circle shaped by your thumb and forefinger and three raised remainder of your fingers.

She laughs at your reluctance, “have you decided to undergo a pseudonym?”

“Yeah,” you nod without further thought.

She arches her brow, prompting you to elaborate, “and may I know who this new persona might be, Ms. Y/L/N?”

The whistle of the winter wind brushing your hair across your cheeks and blinding you for a momentary second as you spot your supervisor’s bright orange ponytail swaying along with nature like she does with society.

“Ink Nemesis,” you utter before speaking up, “I’ll be going under the name of Ink Nemesis.”

Solji frowns and tilts her head to the side, “hm, I don’t think I’ve heard a pen name with such dark undertones like that, especially not in tabloids… but, fair enough. Stay right there, I’ll be back with all the things you’ll be needing tonight!”

“Okay,” you nod and give her small wave for a momentary parting.

She takes one step into the building but ends up turning around to assure you once more considering how worried of a mother-like figure she has always been to you. She smiles and puts a hand to her hip.

“Welcome aboard, Ink Nemesis.”

-

RISE TO FAME GRAND PREMIERE

Those are the first words you see plastered in large font cursive across the extravagant three story venue. Cream colored Roman columns lined the marble floored halls along with the railings of wide, more than spacious stairs with a red carpet rolled out to direct incoming spectators into the venue coming straight out of a fairy tale. Stepping out of your car, it’s impossible to stop yourself from staring at the lit up billboard towering above those below and hoisted high up in the sky to hang from the railings of the third floor balconies.

It didn’t occur to you until now just how popular the boys of Bangtan had gotten, and you know part of that reason is thanks to Solji’s project. As immoral as the SS can be, it was one of the first tabloids dedicated to the boys when they weren’t as popular as they are now. Similar to a symbiotic relationship between two specimens striving to survive in the harsh world of business, both the SS and the boys had prospered with the help of the other. And even though you don’t condone the actions of the SS and had never participated in the building of the Bangtan Boys’ success, you can’t help but exude of pride for both Solji and the boys.

The only thing that manages to retract you from your reverie is the sour, acidic sensation coming from your overfilled bladder. Maybe you shouldn’t have drank as much water as you did out of nerves; nonetheless, all that is said and done cannot be reversed, so you trudge your way forward into the venue. Solji had informed you the venue would be closed even minutes prior to the opening of the premiere and the caution sign taped across the grand entrance only proved her years of experience; but you didn’t care if they banned you, it’s not like you’d ever be coming back anyways, so never minding the rules, you duck underneath the tape and slip past the towering sleek black doors.

Dozens of stairs present themselves to you as you roam across the peach marble tiles lining the floor reflecting the light of crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, and the longer and deeper you delve into the maze of the venue, the more you find yourself lost like a child without their parents. The pain of holding the calls of nature only pushes you farther into the building, but the few passersby whom you presume to be the security guards only worsens your situation as you’re forced to hide behind a human-sized pot of indoor Christmas trees.

After a few seconds of waiting and peeking to check if the coast is clear, you stumble out from under the corner of the stairs and continue trudging on in search for a restroom. You don’t think things could go any worse than this, but a dreadful minute passes before the eerie silence gets to you and shivers run down your spine when you sense a cold presence following you from behind. You can’t hear their footsteps—they’re as soft and nimble as ever—but you know you aren’t going crazy; it’s as if there’s something connecting the two of you that fate compels you to trust the gut instinct in you to quicken your pace—

“—hey,” a cold, small hand firmly grips onto your shoulder and you nearly have a heart attack. Raspy, deep, sharp-edged, and unamused, the voice most certainly belongs to a man. Being caught red-handed is already enough to cause you to faint, but being caught by someone as intimidating as him? You think you’re hallucinating when he continues to speak sternly. “You’re not supposed to be in here right now.”

“...I know,” you can barely manage to squeak.

His hand drops from your shoulder and he lets out a soft sigh, “are you lost?”

You gulp and attempt to speak, but for some reason the pounding sensation against your constricted chest prevents you from doing so.

The man clears his throat after a few seconds of silence, “look, I’m not supposed to be helping you right now and my manager is probably looking for me, but I couldn’t turn a blind eye on someone wandering around like a lost Holly.”

Holly? Your brows scrunch in confusion, but you figure it must have been this man’s girlfriend or relative. Hesitantly turning around, you peer up at the figure behind you. Surprisingly, you don’t have to crane your neck too far because the rather average heighted man appears to be of similar age to you. Swift blond hair, soft lips and fair-skinned, slim dark eyes, silver and black tuxedo draped over his relatively petite figure, and a hard, serious expression years beyond his age, you’re struck in silent awe at the mystical figure standing before you.

“What?” the man quirks a brow at your ogling eyes.

“Oh, uh… nothing,” you stammer before mumbling to yourself, “I just thought you really look like a celebrity.”

The man presses his lips into a down-turned curve, softening his cheeks and sharp chin as he shrugs with his hands raised on either side and his eyes shut in agreement; it’s as if he’s heard your remark all too many times. “So how can I help you?”

“O-Oh,” you stutter and clear your throat before straightening your craned posture, “I didn’t mean to trespass…”

“...Min,” he flatly clarifies, “Min Yoongi.”

Something about his name strikes you as familiar, but you can’t quite put a finger on it.

“Right, Mr. Min. I was just looking for a restroom.”

“Ah… the women’s restroom I presume?” he asks and you nod. Scratching the back of his head, he purses his soft, thin lips, and you can’t help but struggle deciding whether this man is someone you should be intimidated of. “I think the upper two floors are still being cleaned at the moment, you probably don’t want to go up there if you want to stay out of trouble.”

“Oh…” you say in loss for hope. “Is there one on this floor?”

“Mm,” he lowly hums for a split second, eyes on the ground and in thought. “I’m not sure where the ladies’ washroom is on this floor…”

“Oh, that’s totally fine,” you quickly blurt and his slightly widened eyes dart up to look at you. “It’s my fault for not knowing.”

He blinks blankly at you for a few seconds, and you wonder if he even understood what you just said. “No, it’s okay,” he finally answers. “This venue is big. The boys would’ve gotten lost too if I hadn’t downloaded a map. Here, let me check—”

“—no! It’s okay!” you exclaim, stopping his hands from checking his phone after pulling it out; it’s completely irrelevant to you, but you can’t help but notice how warm his hands are contrary to his entire mien. “I’m sorry for bothering you, Mr. Min. You’ve been more than enough help. Thanks for not reporting me. I’ll just find it myself.”

“...are you sure?” he says without further movement; it’s as if he doesn’t bother to waste an ounce of energy on unnecessary motions.

“Yes, I’m absolutely sure,” you give him two thumbs up, and without wasting another second, you stride off into the other direction.

“Hey!” Yoongi calls out to you in the midst of laughs, and your ears perk at the pleasantly surprising warmth radiating from his childlike yet bass-resounding chuckle—the first time you’ve heard him laugh or even flash a hint of emotion. Looking over your shoulder, you find him walking towards you with a gummy smile on the softened features of his expression, “where do you think you’re going? You’re walking right into the men’s restroom.”

“What, huh?” you utter with raised brows. Surely enough, the second you turn around, you find yourself a foot away from entering the men’s washroom with a blue circular plaque with the white stick figure of a man plastered over it.

“You know what? I’ll just bring you to the VIP restroom,” Yoongi remarks, his voice settling down from his laugh into newfound determination as he grabs your wrist and pulls you before you can protest.

The pressing need in your overfilled ducts prevent you from pulling away, for you silently follow behind him as he pulls you along; there’s nothing so special about this very moment, and maybe it’s the extravagance and lavishness of the interior venue, but there’s something so entrancing about this interaction that all you can see is the black tunnel forming around the back of this seemingly intimidating albeit strikingly warm stranger. His shoulders are surprisingly broader than you had imagined, and his blond locks definitely appear softer than they had when you first saw them.

“Uh…” the mysterious man utters and snaps you out of your trance. He releases your hand and hooks his right hand around the nape of his neck, “I don’t have the keys to the women’s washroom, so you’re going to have to use the men’s.”

“What—”

“—but don’t worry,” he quickly adds, holding his hands up before him. “I made sure no one’s in there, and I’ll even stand outside to stop anyone from entering.”

Every hiss of his s’s sends tingles down to your growing need. It’s impossible. You can’t hold it in anymore. Nodding your head, you hastily barge into the unlocked restroom and shut it locked and closed behind you. Then you rush to the toilet, pull down your pants, and plop yourself down—until suddenly, a chilling fear crashes over you.

The silence is overbearingly loud.

There’s no way he won’t be able to hear you as you, a woman he’s only just met, executes what every man presumed women are incapable of.

“Are you done?” Yoongi calls out to you from outside.

“Um…” you say weakly, voice trembling and heart pounding.

To spare your dignity or not? It’s not like you’re even interested in this guy, nor are you ever going to cross paths with him again, so why are you being so hesitant?

“What’s wrong?” you can hear the concern in his voice. “Are you okay?”

“I’m… I’m fine,” you stammer and clear your throat. “Can you just—just sing!”

“Sing?” he emphasizes. “Why? You do know I only rap, right?”

“Just do it!” you shut your eyes and place your cold hands over your burning cheeks in a futile attempt to cool your embarrassment down.

He chuckles in disbelief, “you’re… you’re joking right? Just pee! I’m not going to listen and it’s not like I even care—”

“—just please sing!”

“Okay, okay, you asked for it…” he mumbles.

You’re not sure whether you should be thankful for his agreement, because the next thing you know, your ears are piercing and your entire body is wincing from the pitchy sounds coming out from his screaming; you can’t even tell if he’s going off pitch on purpose or not, because he sounds like he’s trying even while resembling the yells of a child.

“Min Yoongi is a good, good boy,” he chants to the tune of a nursery rhyme, “the rest of them are bad, bad boys.”

This man standing outside of the restroom door truly is the epitome of the duality of mankind, but at least you got to get the job done without further self-embarrassment and more so second-hand.

“I’m done—”

—you stop mid-sentence the second you step out of the restroom and find him swinging his bent arms and speed walking up and down the halls like a grandpa on his morning jog. Clearly, he's enjoying his own concert all too much. And as odd of a dance move you presume he's attempting, you can't help but find this side of him strangely as cute as a button.

“I’m done,” you raise your voice, “you can stop now.”

Yoongi turns around to find you, arms plopping back to his side, back straightening, and lips returning to its grim origins, and his entire cool mien returns within the blink of an eye. “Oh, I see,” he mumbles, scratching the back of his neck as he lowers his head.

You snort and pat his arm before walking back the way you two had came from, “well, thanks so much for all the help, Mr. Min. I hope you enjoy the show!”

Yoongi nods in silence, glancing up from the ground to give you a small wave…

...but it isn’t until you exit the venue that you realize the irony of your remark.

Yoongi is a part of the show. 

How did you not recognize him? How did it not click to you that someone as strikingly handsome as him couldn’t be anything but a celebrity? You could’ve snapped a picture or two, maybe get an exclusive interview, or even snap a few picture of the VIP restroom if you must. It had to have been your bladder distracting you. It has to be. No one as dumb as you gets that close to a boy of BTS and not scream out of thrill; but maybe that’s the exact and only reason he decided to help you in the first place.

A loud sigh of frustration leaves your lips as you seat yourself on the marble bench outside of the venue and under a tree. The winter proves to be a nature deserving of respect as the heat of your breath comes out in visible puffs and your body shivers despite the abundance of scarves and layers wrapped around you.

A few whispers of chattering piques your attention when you look off to your left to find an empty street where you expected incoming news reporters before looking off to your right and craning your neck to find two figures standing in the balcony above you.

No way.

Your jaw drops when your eyes land on the all so familiar figure of Min Yoongi… with a less familiar girl in front of him. With the back of her red skin-tight dress against the balcony, you’re forced to crawl your way over to the tree to get a better view. Channeling your inner Solji, something tells you this is a sight you can’t miss—not unless you want to be scolded for months on end by your supervisor. Luckily, you had already grabbed your DSLR from your car and hung it around your neck; grabbing it into your quivering hands, you look through the lenses to zoom in and snap a few pictures.

There’s no doubt about it. Nothing gnaws at your conscience more than invading someone’s privacy, especially not someone who had just gone out of their way to help you. Nevertheless, the incident which plays out before you manages to capture more than the attention of your camera.

Yoongi appears to be arguing with the woman. A displacement frown written all over his face and a body language failing to reciprocate hers, as if to signal the other he could care less what she says, the familiar man scoffs and turns his head away. With her arms out on either side, the girl appears to be begging him or attempting to persuade him of something, until the next thing you know, her hands grab ahold of either side of his cheeks to bring him into a kiss. A few seconds pass before the stone cold look on his face melts and the affections are no longer one-sided.

Quickly snapping a picture or two, your mind goes blank, your camera falls and sways back against your stomach, your mouth gapes wide open, and you immediately turn away from the intimate moment. You don’t know why you were feeling this way, a slight stab of your chest after seeing a man you can’t help but find strangely charming kissing another woman, but you do know none of this should be your business in the first place.

You and Yoongi are merely acquaintances—in fact, he’s a celebrity and you’re a paparazzi spying on his whereabouts. Who are you to wish you were in that woman’s shoes?

Hastily checking the pictures you had managed to take in the spur of the moment, the blurriness of over half the images render a sigh from you and your novice-like photos. Truly, Solji must be an expert at this. You’re not meant for this type of work. Nonetheless, at least there are two pictures as clear as crystal. One of Yoongi and the woman in the midst of the intimate moment—which never fails to bring a gut wrenching and twisting sensation of your conscience—and one zoomed in on the woman’s face. Releasing your camera and rubbing your throbbing temples, you skimper your way back to the parking lot only to pace back and in an attempt to get your mind off the situation.

Ultimately, this line of work proves to be out of your reach when you decide not to release these two specific photos; you don’t know why you feel this sense of loyalty to this man, but you just can’t betray someone who had helped you out.

“Hey! Are you here for some inside scoops, as well? Did you manage to get any photos?”

A squeaky albeit oddly soothing voice captures your attention when you whirl around to find a girl skipping to you.

“Uh,” you furrow your brows and recall your decision, “no.”

“No way,” she muses. “The worry written all over your face tells me otherwise.”

Damn it, she’s clever. Everything about her screams at you that she’s quick to catch on; blunt bangs, long, sleek black hair tied into a half ponytail, and voice friendly yet witty in its on way. Don’t worry, two can play at that game.

“Well, yeah, that’s the problem…” you mumble and rub your left elbow. “I only managed to get this random picture of a girl on the balcony.”

Lifting your camera, you only show her the zoomed in picture of the woman where Yoongi remains out of sight. Maybe you can get some information out of her.

Surely enough, the girl cocks her head and purses her lips, “oh? She looks like the daughter of my company’s CEO!”

Why would Yoongi, a member of the BTS, be hanging out with the daughter of a CEO? Not to mention being in a relationship with her? Coincidence or not, you decide to keep the second photo a secret.

“Really?” you clear your throat. “Oh, I mean, of course. I knew that.”

The girl simply laughs and holds her hand out for you to shake, which the instinctive business woman in you obliged to take. “Yeah, that picture isn’t going to do you any good. Dozens of big companies are out here looking for partnership with the boys. Think about it this way, if even I’m here right now, then I wouldn’t be surprised to find her here,” she flashes a smile at you. “Anyways, I haven’t seen you around before. What’s your name?”

“Y/N. And your’s?”

“Xiao Lin. Xiao as in small, and Lin as in forest. You can just call me Lin, though,” she grins once again to reveal the crescent shape of her eyes, and you can’t help but stare at her in awe; as her name has it, she truly is as strikingly beautiful as the forest. “I work for the Star’s magazine. I haven’t seen many people around my age like you, so I hope we can get along! Let’s exchange numbers!”

She talks way too fast for you to catch up, so you simply nod. After getting your number and sending you a quick text, she waves you goodbye—claiming she has some important business to get to—before skipping off in the opposite direction. Within the next minute of blur, you’re left alone in the parking lot once again.

This industry really moves all too fast for you to catch up.

Figuring there’s nothing left for you to—as Lin likes to say—’scoop,’ you decide to scout out the area by ducking under all the caution tapes lining the sides of the venue. While other reporters would be staring at you with wary eyes as you trespassed and trampled on all the laws you’re probably breaking, you venture farther into the closed venue without further thought; maybe you really are a paparazzi to be feared.

Turning the corner is like turning to the sight fate had planned for you all along, because the first thing—or rather, person—you land your eyes on takes your breath away.

You shouldn’t even be surprised at this point to find Yoongi walking with the other six members of his group towards the back entrance of the venue. Bright cool light from inside the venue floods onto the boys and the ground, and it clicks to you that this would be a jaw-dropping picture to take. Figuring you had already spared Yoongi of his last potentially scandal inducing photo, this would be enough to make up for it. You can’t go home empty handed, after all.

Lifting the camera and squinting your eyes through the viewfinder, the camera shakes in your unsteady hands as your limited field of sight rocks side to side like the waves of an ocean at night. After a few seconds of hesitation, you finally muster enough courage to press down on the shutter button.

The boys immediately stop in the midst of their footsteps.

They look your way.

Your heart panics as it hammers against your chest without mercy.

Your stomach drops.

The dozens of shutter sounds you had forgotten to turn off had resonated throughout the silence of the cricket-chirping filled night and captured the attention of your victims.

You hear Yoongi sigh and you can see him storming your way in the viewfinder, despite the protests of the boys, and you’re too scared to remove the camera from covering your face like a mask. What would he say when he found out what you were doing? Would he be disappointed? Why do you even care in the first place?

“Sorry, but no cameras are allowed here,” he sternly says, gritting his teeth and burying his hands in his pockets. After a few seconds of silence, Yoongi scoffs. “I said no cameras are allowed.”

Slowly removing the camera from your face and immediately ducking your head, you mumble, “oh, sorry… I, uh, didn’t mean to—”

“—look,” he clicks his tongue and shuffles in place, shifting his weight from one leg to another and turning his head to the other direction. You don’t know what’s gotten into him, but everything from his posure to his diction scares you. He’s more intimidating than he ever was when you first met him. “I don’t have the time nor am I in the mood for this, so can you please just delete the picture now.”

“Um…”

If you showed him the list of pictures you had taken, then there really is no way to patch little of what relations you have with him when he sees the pictures of him and the woman from before; and it’s not like you really care that much if he thinks badly of you, it’s more so that even you want to spare yourself the pang of guilt for invading someone’s privacy in the first place.

“Yoongi,” someone says, walking up to place a hand on his shoulder. You peek up through the strands of the strands of hair untucked from behind your ear to find whom you believe to be Namjoon nodding at the swarm of incoming reporters off in the distance. “It won't be good if they think we’re giving her special treatment.”

Yoongi groans and turns to find you taken aback by his sudden move, the both of you staring into each other’s widening eyes in sudden recognition. “You…? What? Why?”

“I—”

“—just come with us for now,” he sighs, grabbing your hand and pulling you as you jolt forward at the sudden change of pace.

-

Yoongi and the boys escort—or more accurately, drag—you to the backstage of their venue. Aside from filled clothing racks and vanity mirrors, the chic black carpeted room is relatively emptier than you expected. The six boys begin filing in one by one whereas Yoongi immediately plops to one of the black leather couches seated in the center. Hands fumbling with your camera, your timid eyes alternate between the unamused stoic glare on Yoongi’s face and the boys’ helpless shrugs and shifty eyes. The silence is all too deafening until you realize this is probably your cue to take a seat for further interrogation; and so, reluctantly, you trudge onwards into the dangers of Yoongi’s cold, threatening gaze which follows you as you make your way to the matching black leather couch right across from him.

“So,” he finally breaks the silence, sitting forward and folding his hands in his lap. In any situation other than this, you would've found the cold color of his blood drained gaze and the popping veins of his slender albeit rough looking hands rather enticing, but tonight it only brought goosebumps to you all the more. “Explain yourself.”

The piercing stare of his startles you as you shift in your seat uncomfortably. Averting your line of sight away from him and to the carpet, you hook one hand over your left elbow and attempt to control your hitched breathing. You had forgotten how silent he could be, especially in times of strife, for the tick of the clock is all that you hear as he patiently waits for an answer.

You know you're in the wrong, but why do you of all times have to be the unlucky one who's caught? It's not like you even wanted to come here in the first place. Just reevaluating your life choices and regrets brings heat to your cheeks as you grit your teeth and lower your head in shame. How're you supposed to explain yourself? What does he even want to hear? You broke the rules and snapped a few pictures of him; plain and simple. Simply bumping into him an hour prior doesn't make you two buddies, so what does he mean by explaining yourself?

The boys standing in the back of the room glance at each other like deers caught in the headlight before suddenly announcing, “we actually forgot to check our mics for tonight's show, so uh, we'll be back guys!”

No, no, please don't leave me alone with him, you chant in your head and attempt to convey through desperate eyes. Unfortunately for you, each one of the boys avoid both you and Yoongi’s gaze as they hastily shuffle out of the room.

Boom; the door slams closed and the silence ensues. It's just the two of you; you and Yoongi, and there's nothing stopping him from scolding you about things you already know you're ashamed of—

“—hey, I'm sorry if I'm being too harsh on you,” Yoongi’s apology snaps you out of your nightmare. He shakes his folded hands as if to reiterate his message before looking straight at your widened eyes, “the boys and I have been dealing with shitty paparazzis or news reporters or whatever they call themselves lately.”

“Oh no,” you quickly interject and shake your head. “I should be the one apologizing right now.”

Yoongi quirks a brow at the sudden confession you had been so reluctant to give just a few seconds ago and softly chortles, “yeah, but I was especially harsh to you out there. I'm sorry. I didn't know it was you.”

What does being you have to do with anything? Just because you two happen to have some sort of what you can barely call a connection? You wish he would stop proving you wrong like this, treating you more kindly than his cold front lets off to be, because it only makes you feel all the more guilty.

“It's… okay,” you meekly say, sheepishly averting your eyes to the ground. Why is he the one apologizing? You're the one trying to make a profit out of his basic human rights. “I'm… sorry… for taking those pictures when I shouldn't have.”

Yoongi chuckles, shifting in his seat before leaning in once again. You haven't noticed until now how attentive of a man he is. “I sure hope you were actually looking for a restroom and not taking advantage of me earlier—”

“—oh no!” you blurt out and profusely shake your head. You don't know why you're trying to clear any misconceptions he has of you when there's no chances of you two meeting again. “I really… actually needed a restroom. So… thank you… for that.”

He only shakes his head, as though to tell you it isn’t a big deal.

“So…” his intent gaze never budget from your timid ones. “You're a paparazzi? Or are you a paparazzi in training? Because from what I see, you're quite inexperienced.”

“Oh, I'm…” your voice trails off as you ponder over just how much you can reveal. There's no harm in telling him the truth, is there? At least not when you've already been caught red-handed. “I'm not usually in this… line of work…? Someone gave me this camera and asked me to step in for them…” Yoongi slowly nods with the quirk of a brow and frowning lips as you continue to fumble around with the camera hanging from your neck. “Yeah, I'm not really a fan—I mean, you boys are great and all—but you don't have to worry about me taking advantage of you guys.”

He nods, and you can't help but notice how the downturn of his pressed lips soften the usual edges of his jawline. “And what company do you work for?”

“Um…” you drawl before quickly blurting, “Stars Magazine.”

Sorry Lin.

“Figures,” he shrugs. “They always go to extreme lengths to write their disgusting ‘articles' on.”

“...what kind of extreme lengths?”

He takes a few seconds to answer, “things like hiding in our closets.”

“Oh, that's absolutely terrible,” you frown, scrunching your nose. As sly as paparazzi can be, you can't exactly imagine Lin carrying out things like that. You look up to find Yoongi nodding his head with raised, knitted brows, as if to point out the irony in you demeaning the company you supposedly work for. Shaking your head and raising your hands, you immediately retort, “but they're just my boss! I don't agree with the things they do to you guys at all.”

Yoongi presses his lips into a thin line and nods, finally reclining his back against the couch only to cross one leg over the other and fold his hands over his knees once again. “If this isn't the line of work you're usually in, then what do you usually do?”

“I'm a journalist,” you explain, “and an aspiring writer; I write short stories on the side at times… though they're not exactly doing well.”

He quirks a brow, “oh? So is this your last attempt to appease your employers?”

Ouch. He's rather curt with his words, but in a way, it's the harsh truth.

Nibbling your bottom lip, you break eye contact to stare at the ground in loss of dignity. “...yeah. Hard for you to relate to, huh?”

“Actually, no,” he slightly cocks his head and cinches his brows with a half-smile half-frown. “I see you really aren't a fan. The boys and I actually came from the very bottom of this industry. Our agency wasn't well known at all, so we didn't get the head start most groups get under their agencies.”

“That must’ve been tough…”

He nods, eyes lowering to the ground as he reminisces. “Yeah, it was hard to get by, we could barely survive off of the money we were making; in fact, sometimes I even wanted to quit,” he chuckles and shakes his head before looking straight at you, nearly causing you to flinch. The voice filled with sincerity and the message of sympathy that comes from the depth of his heart resonates in this one gaze of his, and for a short minute, you feel like you’re swimming in the warmth of the ocean in the middle of winter that is his eyes. “But I’m glad I didn’t. People recognize talent. Music transcends all corruption in this industry. Unfortunately, the world you’re living in right now once was the only world I ever knew, but you’ll get through it. I promise. Your talent will be recognized.”

His words—no, it’s his voice that tugs at your heartstrings right this moment. How could someone so successful, talented, and acknowledged understand you to such a level? Anyone at his level of fame would lose all traces of humility; so who is this person sitting right before you? Him giving up his words, his time, and his own dignity to reach out to a person like you? A mere stranger? There isn’t a single person you’ve met in this industry like him. For once in several years, you actually feel like you’re not alone.

The wonders of his words strikes you to the point of silence, lost in a reverie, until he clears his throat after checking the watch on his right wrist. Standing up and offering you a helping hand, he presses his lips into a small smile, “the show is about to start soon, so unfortunately I have to get the both of us going.”

Walking down the halls, Yoongi escorts you out of the back exit of the venue and into the ice cold wrath of the winter. Other than the clicking of your heels and his dress shoes, the silence of the night shared between the two of you is oddly soothing. You want to say something to fill the silence, but at the same time you don’t in fear of breaking this precious mystical moment.

After walking you down to the end of the hall near the parking lot, Yoongi stops in the midst of his tracks and retracts his hands from his pockets. You raise a brow at him and he just chuckles, “I don’t think we’re ever going to meet again, but I’d still like to know your name and I don’t think I ever got it.”

“Me?” you emphasize and he just nods. Is a celebrity asking for your name? “Y/L/N. Ms. Y/L/N.”

“No,” he deadpans. “Your first name, and if we do ever meet again, quit calling me Mr. Min.”

You try to suppress your smile by biting your bottom lip, “I’m Y/N.”

“Well, Y/N,” he grabs your hand dangling by your side and firmly shakes it in midair, “I guess this is farewell. Also, you can keep the picture.”

“What? Why?” you protest. “I’ll even delete it in front of you if you want!”

He shakes his head, “it’s not a big deal. I only lashed out at you because I was in a bad mood. If a simple picture like that can help save one career—your career—then I’m more than happy to risk mine.”

Ah. Did your heart just skip or did you just forget to breathe?

“Oh…” you mumble, smiling at the ground, “okay then—”

“—Min Yoongi!”

“Mr. Min!”

“Look over here!”

Out of the blue, you hear yells roaring down from the ends of the street as the both of you dart your attention to the swarm of people dressed in black running towards the venue. Some carried bright white lights that flashed and blinked as their partners continuously snapped photos of the two of you as they sprinted their way over, forcing the both of you to raise your hands above your heads and cast shadows upon your squinting eyes.

“Fucking hell, of all times,” you hear Yoongi curse under his breath.

The next thing you know, microphones are being shoved into your face, people invading your personal bubble, crowds surrounding you from all sides and encircling the both of you as they continue to scream incoherent questions phrased like orders at you.

Are you, the supposed paparazzi, being ambushed by other paparazzi?

The flash of the lights and yells of their voices spanning from all ages and genders begin to blur and you think you’re about to pass out until Yoongi places his hand on your left arm to push you protectively behind him.

Ah, even at times like this, you can’t help but gaze at Yoongi in awe. He would’ve been a fine man to chase if he weren’t a celebrity. Too bad you’re just a struggling, broken journalist while he’s the entire world’s dominating heartthrob.

“We just saw you two at the front of the venue half an hour ago!” one woman says.

“Is this an under the desk deal?” another man questions.

“Are you working with another company under the public’s radar? Is your success thanks to these deals made behind our backs?!” a woman shrieks, pushing a microphone into Yoongi’s unamused face.

“Or are you giving her exclusive interviews? And why her?”

“Is she a fan? Are you taking advantage of your fans? Sleeping and discarding them as you like?”

In sudden distraught, Yoongi groans and speaks through gritted teeth so softly that the entire crowd hushes to silence aside from the shutter sounds of their DSLRs. “The boys and I aren’t working with any other agencies except BigHit. We’re making our way up the industry fair and square based on our efforts, talents, and fans who have recognized us for those alone. We would never take advantage of them.”

“Then who is she?” they quickly retort. “And why is she leaving with you alone from the back?”

Peering up to glance at Yoongi, you find him squinting at the man who had asked the question. On the plaque of his microphone writes “BIGHIT ENTERTAINMENT” in large letters. He groans loudly and curses under his breath something about “so this is what you want Bang PD,” before raising his voice, “her?”

Even at a time like this, you can’t help but sigh in disappointment for being unable to help him in times of strife. Moments like these make you realize how distant your world remains from him. Lost in your trance, you come to acknowledge how unworthy you are, especially when you recall the woman on the balcony he must have been in a relationship with.

“I’m sorry for dragging you into this, Y/N,” he turns around to mumble something quietly to you before grabbing your hand in his, pulling you forward by his side, raising your entangled hands where everyone could see and declares, “she’s my girlfriend.”

The entire universe didn't know it then, but those three words had opened the gates to your grand entree as you take the world and media by storm.

The first ink of your story has only just been blotted.