#but maybe we should bring that practice back. specifically so we can sacrifice YOU

[newagevictorianorphan]

when somebody brings up cannibalism/human sacrifice in mesoamerican civilizations as a negative point to prove that ‘mesoamerica was barbaric and cruel’ i like to bring up the fact that europeans crushed and ate mummies as medicine back in the day

[sapphireswimming]

Tantamount to Defeat (a Critical Role Campaign 3 fic)

Ashton knows what Jiana Hexum will demand in return for her help. Fresh Cut Grass wonders if it might not be the worst idea.

An alternate scene set during, with spoilers through, Campaign 3 episode 35: Pyrrhic Return

Characters: Fresh Cut Grass, Ashton Greymoore, Bells Hells

Genres: Friendship, Hurt/Comfort

Rated: T for language

Words: 2k

(on ao3) (on ffn) or below the read more

“Why?” Ashton demanded, hands flying to each side of his head. “Why would you say that? Why would you tell Jiana Hexum that you’re eager to please? Oh god!”

“Well,” Fresh Cut Grass said, “it’s always best to, when you’re about to ask someone for a favor that’s as difficult as bringing a person back from the dead, to lead off with being friendly, and, you know, trying to make it easy for the other person to say ‘yes.’”

“Except this isn’t- this isn’t a favor! It’s a business deal! Where she’s going to require a payment.”

“And she’s just going to want you now,” Imogen said, leaning forward toward Fresh Cut Grass, brow furrowed.

“She’s going to want you,” Ashton echoed, palm pressing into their forehead.

“Well.” Fresh Cut Grass considered this for a moment. “I suppose that’s very flattering.”

“No, it’s not!” Ashton threw both of his hands in the air. “But you’ve just practically offered yourself up to her on a silver platter! ‘Motivated,’” he ground out. “This is why- I said not to say too much, just figure out what it’s going to cost, and not give her any fucking ideas!”

“Yeah, you didn’t quite have to say it like that,” Imogen agreed, reaching out a gentle hand on FCG’s shoulder. “I think she was going to be asking a lot from us anyway.”

“Hmmm, yeah,” Chetney added from across the air ship’s cabin, thoughtfully tapping his chin with the half-worked block of wood in his hands. “Ashton says she asks for an extra fifty percent of any payment, remember?”

“Well, I don’t know how we’re going to be able to give her an extra fifty percent of me when there’s only one of me,” FCG said, raising up his arms to get a good look up and down his chassis.

“We won’t have to! Because you’re not one and a half times a fair deal, you’re ten times-” Ashton managed before his brain seemed to catch up with his mouth and he clicked his mouth shut.

“Oho!” Chetney looked up from his handiwork to watch the expressions play across Ashton’s face in obvious delight.

“Ugh, this is why I didn’t want you messaging her in the first place,” they muttered, falling back into their chair.

“Oh, Ashton,” Fresh Cut Grass placed a hand over his chest. “That’s so nice.”

“Guess you really are going soft on us, aren’t you, Ashton?” Chetney grinned.

“No,” he denied, but immediately followed with, “Yes. Fuck! Look. Look, here’s the thing,” he leaned forward, elbow resting on his knee as he jabbed a finger forward. “Here’s the fucking thing: we’re not leaving people behind! We haven’t left Laudna behind and we’re certainly not leaving you, got it? This is- no,” he continued, plowing over the interruption when FCG opened their mouth. “Listen. Listen, do you want me to be happy?”

“Well, of course,” FCG said earnestly. “I want all of you to be happy. But for that to happen, we need to get Laudna back,” he said. “And if this is how we do it, then we should at least consider-”

“No, Letters,” Orym protested, at the same time Imogen said, “Definitely not.”

Ashton curled his hand into a fist, pressed it to his mouth, then cut in before Fresh Cut Grass could say anything more. “Okay, do you know what would make me happy? Do you know what you, specifically, can do to make me happy? You stop-” he waved his hand around in a tight, frustrated circle, “you stop doing this, you stop offering yourself up, you stop trying to sacrifice yourself-”

“It’s not a sacrifice!” they protested. “And if I’m worth all that like you said, then maybe we wouldn’t even have to give her all of me. Just some of my parts.”

“We’re not going to butcher you-”

“FCG,” Imogen sighed, the sound wavering out of her chest. “I know that I talked about dismantling you earlier, when we were meeting with Dancer, but that was just for show. We wouldn’t actually-”

“I mean, if that’s what you really want,” Chetney piped up, flourishing the carving tool in his hand with a series of twirls and flips, “then of course, I’m willing to take a whack at it.”

“Chetney!”

But Fresh Cut Grass was already nodding. “Well, yeah, maybe you could poke around in there, and maybe find some of the non-magic-y, non-glowy parts?”

“Oh,” Fearne assured them, both hands pressed to her chest, “we would never give any of your glowy parts to anyone else.”

“We’re not going to give any of your parts to anyone else,” Ashton growled at the three of them, “let alone Jiana Hexum!”

Orym spoke up, catching Fresh Cut Grass’ attention away from the glare. “We’re not giving you up for Laudna,” he said, his voice quiet but firm. “We’re not losing anyone else.”

“Yes,” Ashton waved a hand at him. “Thank you for someone talking some sense!”

“We’re going to keep you, and get Laudna back, okay, Letters?”

Fresh Cut Grass looked back at Orym for a long moment, mismatched eyes unblinking as he swiveled back and forth on his wheel. “Okay, but listen-”

“Nuh!” Ashton pressed forward so quickly he threatened to topple out of the chair. A decisive finger cut through the air in front of FCG with a clear shushing motion. "None of that!"

“Now, just hear me out!”

“No! What do you mean, ‘hear you out’? What is there to hear? Do you want me to say it again? You’re not- none of you,” Ashton warned, pointedly redirecting the finger to each person around the room before coming back to Fresh Cut Grass, “but especially you, are not allowed to offer yourself up like a piece of fucking meat. She will eat you up.”

Fresh Cut Grass opened their mouth, closed it, then opened it again. “I don’t think she could.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” Ashton shot back.

“No, I know,” Fresh Cut Grass nodded. Then, he straightened and looked back squarely at Ashton. “But this may not be such a bad idea as you think. This might actually work out well.”

Ashton spread his arms wide. “How,” he demanded, “How could this work out well? Hexum is – I mean I’ve told you what she’s like. She’s bad news.”

“I know. I know that.”

“Then what-”

“Well. You know when I… That I- well. With my, you know.” He trailed off, unsure of how to continue, and eventually just gesturing toward the buzzsaw attachment now carefully strapped to his back.

“Oh yeah!” Chetney jumped in easily. “Your murder mode.”

“Yeah, right. That. We still- I mean I don’t really know how that works. You know, what gets me to that… that state. But, if what Imhara Joe said was right, you know, what he read from that book…”

“What, the thing where the automatons were programmed to murder the people they were gifted to?”

“The Care and Culling,” Orym murmured.

“Yeah. You know, back when we first heard about it, Laudna-” they broke off, leaving a silence loud enough for several people to take audibly shaking breaths. Fresh Cut Grass looked between them, and pressed on. “Laudna said it was nice for me to know I had been made with a purpose, even if it wasn’t a very nice purpose. But if that’s what I’m… you know, if that’s what I’m made for, then maybe we can make use of it.”

Ashton stared at him, eyes wide.

“I… I really don’t want to do that to any of you again,” Fresh Cut Grass admitted, glancing around.

“Letters-”

“But if it’s going to happen again, then why not let me do it where it can at least be useful? From everything you’ve said, Ashton, it wouldn’t be such a bad thing if Jiana Hexum was the one who set me off.”

“What, you want to like, mess her up?” Fearne asked, demonstrating with a shake of her shoulders.

“Ooooh, yeah,” Chetney jumped in, “You rev up that chainsaw again – bzzzz! - and then once you’ve... done the deed, you just let us know how much we need to cover up at the crime scene. I’m an old pro- we definitely got you covered so that no one will be the wiser, and then before anyone’s even got a whiff of anything out of the ordinary, we skedaddle! And have you back with us like nothing ever happened.”

“Although,” Fearne put out a hand, “before we go, we should probably get some other things in her house. You know, since we’ll already be there.”

“Oh, make it look like a robbery?” Chetney asked, blowing some wood shavings off of his hand and inspecting his progress. “I like it!”

“Well," she huffed out a laugh, "she does have a lot of shiny things in that house.”

“Plus some things that might be tied to Otahan Thull,” Chetney added meaningfully, tapping the piece to his head.

“Oh, that’s right,” Imogen snapped, and turned to Ashton. “Didn’t you say she had some of those same crates we helped pack in her house? And some of those dark grey potions we found?”

“I mean,” Ashton fumbled a bit, distractedly twisting one hand in the air above his knee and not taking his eyes off of Fresh Cut Grass. “That’s what Milo dumped in my head to bring me back, so… yeah.”

“And if we could definitely tie Jiana Hexum to Otaha, or to the, what was the name of it again, that assembly you were talking about, Orym?”

“The Cerberus Assembly. In Wildemount.”

“Right.”

“So maybe…” Fresh Cut Grass picked up, “maybe I can find out more about that, or maybe something that fills in some of the gaps in your head that you were talking about, Ashton. Or maybe what sets me off, now that I know to be looking for it.”

Ashton stared at them hard.

Fresh Cut Grass shifted under the scrutiny. “I mean you said she really wants me, right? So it’s not like there’s any danger that she’s going to dismantle me, or sell me off, or anything like that. Worse case is I don’t gather much intel for us, but best case…”

“Best case, we’ll actually know some more about what all of this is about plus Jiana’ll be out of our hair,” Imogen said, turning to look at Ashton. “Your hair. Or, your… whatever your hair is.”

“It’s... fine," he said, resigned. "I still call it hair.”

Fresh Cut Grass wheeled closer, put a hand out onto Ashton's. “Don’t you want her gone?” they asked.

“I-” Ashton licked his lips. He sighed and settled down more heavily in his chair before slowly admitting, “I don’t know. She’s… she’s been useful to have around.”

“Sure,” Fresh Cut Grass agreed. “But if we had everything that she has, then you wouldn’t need to go to her for anything anymore, would you?”

Ashton worked their jaw. “I… suppose not,” he finally agreed.

“And, to be fair,” Chetney said. “FCG has offered us a very compelling plan to kill several birds with one murder-bot and,” he drew his tool across his neck, sticking his tongue out of the corner of his mouth as the metal grazed skin without breaking it. “Take her out.”

“And, of course, it would mean we’d have Laudna back,” Fresh Cut Grass said. “And that’s the most important part, isn’t it?”

“Well… well yeah, at the end of the day, I suppose it is,” Fearne finally agreed quietly.

Ashton let out an explosive sigh.

“This still- hnnng.” They shook their head. “As much as I… don’t hate this? I still hate this. I mean, don’t get me wrong, having Hexum gone is... a nice... idea and I’m glad to know there’s an actual plan behind this and not just you sacrificing yourself for no reason, but this is... still not-”

“It wouldn’t be for no reason,” Fresh Cut Grass protested. “We still need to get Laudna back!”

“Yes,” Orym pressed in gently, “but, let’s just say this definitely isn’t Plan A.”

“No,” Ashton agreed emphatically.

“No, of course not,” Fresh Cut Grass said. “But if Lord Esteros can’t do it and, you know your people can’t do it,” he canted his head toward Orym. “Then… well, then we have to get Laudna back. We have to. And this might be the only other way we can find.”

“I know,” Ashton sighed, rubbing their hand over their face. “And we will. We’re not,” their hand curled into a fist. “We’re not fucking leaving anyone behind. That's done now.”

[pastramimommy]

Pre-long distance convo 7/30/23 5:30 pm

I've been reflecting/spiraling about our conversation in KC and the general future of our relationship for the last week, and have sought out advice from friends, family, and strangers in our situation.

My comments about using our time wisely and efficiently, are just outright uncalled for and I just need to leave it be at this point. You know that this is one of the biggest ways to show me love and I really don't need to remind you. I've never really given you the opportunity to show me this in action so I will try to go with the flow more, trusting that you are doing everything in your power to stay on top of your plans and scheduling.

Upon reflecting on that specific situation at the bars, I still believe I have the right to express my feelings about what I called you out for, I just need to present it to you more effectively. I should have waited till we were not in front of your sister/friends and I should have said it more calmly and with less fiery language. Like I said earlier, I wasn't mad about those situations, I just said everything on my mind exactly as the thoughts were forming, which is not ideal, but I still want you to hear that you could do something differently. And the intention is not to make you feel inadequate, but like how we approach sex, there is always room for improvement. I know I cannot say something to you about every little thing that bothers me, and picking which battles are worthwhile is something that I will have to practice. If there is a way that you think we could better address these situations please tell me.

From my conversations with my mom and from podcasts I've been listening to, I realized that most of the stress about our relationship I've imposed on myself from thinking to far into the future too much. All of my fears stem from the thought of losing my autonomy to make certain decisions in my life because it will be dictated by your career, and if things were not to work out, the entire trajectory of my life will have been altered but nothing in your life will be changed at all. I am not telling you this to make you feel stressed or bad for me, I just want you to understand where I am coming from. None of these are reflection of how you make me feel, they are a reflection of how the situation makes me feel. I know your fear is that I will resent you for all the sacrifices that I have to make, but genuinely I am happy to move because I want to be with you. I cannot resent you if you allow me to make decisions with you and respect my non-negotiables when your situation allows. Like the conversation about living together, I hear your side and I will work with you, but please show me that commitment and sacrifice when you can. While these things will still be real and valid for me to think about, I now know it just isn't healthy for me to dwell on them. I cannot worry about what will happen in 3 years when I have things that I can be doing to benefit us today.

In terms of effort and needs being met, I have also come to terms with the fact that our requirements are going to change over the years (and maybe even months) because we will be in different situations every year (long distance vs living near each other vs living together; M1/M2 vs M3/M4 vs residency). I understand that the current situation requires you to lean on me a little more and I accept that and am excited to do so. I really do have to be okay with you coping with your stress however you do so and genuinely putting myself on the back burner. This will be an era of our relationship that will be 60/40 but that is normal in relationships. All that I ask is that you can be the 60 in times when I need you ex) when I move to KC and starting a new job, starting school, etc) Part of the work I need to do is discern which stressors I can bring to you vs others. I don't want to feel like I can't share my stressors with you because you are too busy for them, so finding that balance will be my challenge. One of the pieces of advice I got was to not sweat the small things, which is so simple but makes sense, we have such little time together so it is not worth wasting it talking about silly qualms.

I know my greatest challenge will be making sure that I respect my boundaries. Me knowing the difference between me being 60/40 for a season of our lives vs me being 75/25 consistently and telling myself that it's okay bc "he's just busy" is something that I am genuinely nervous about. This is my fear about "trying your best" because even though I know that it is truly the most that you can give, it is subjective and gives you the space to theoretically do whatever you want as long as you say it's your best. Not saying this is what you will do by any means, but it does make it easier for me to let things slide if that makes sense. As long as at every life dinner, you can look at me and genuinely tell me that you tried your best every month, I will be satisfied. This is painful to say, but both of us have to be okay with walking away if we know that we are consistently not giving/receiving what we deserve.

My expectations and requests are as follows:

-Text me when you wake up and when you go to sleep (esp when you go out). Don't feel pressured to text me back during the day, esp if we are having a conversation with multiple text streams. I'd rather have you wait a little longer to respond so you can give me a quality response.

-Express that you love me in some way through text since that will be the primary form of communication

-No requirement on facetime frequency is needed. I'd rather just request to FT as needed and schedule it. I will call you at random points in the day if I have a moment, but I totally understand if you can't answer. You can do the same if you want.

-For scheduling/making plans, I'll try to present the plan to you with the possible dates and a deadline for you to let me know if required by the situation. I will not nag you until the deadline is reached.

[lameghost]

Scream blue murder.

Bonten! x yakuza! leader [part 3]

word count - 2,538

💿 - deathwish by poutyface, to the bone by j.t machinima

Warnings❕- angst + fluff+ suggestive. Mentions of death, sewer slide, drugs, physical and mental abuse.(slight hints of ptsd) Mentions of Izana x reader and others. Spoilers! Bonten arc. Blood and gore. (pinky cutting and mentions of gas poisoning, mass murder.) reader goes berserk! putting a knife in each other's throat? reader is freaky fugg. and also apparently, an expert at chemistry.

[part 1] [part 2]

“So, 12 years… You were gone, just like that and you aren’t gonna say anything, huh? Saying ‘I love you’ like that, ain’t fucking fair, y/n. I missed you for all those years. I searched for you like a madman. Fuck, you didn’t even come by to look for me or shit. You know how fucking miserable I was, after Izana was gone and you too!” Everyone flinched at the sight of the usually calm Kakucho raising his voice. You were surprised too, but you kept on an indifferent facade as you looked down, guilt overwhelmed you.

Kakucho takes a few steps towards you, “I wanna hate you for it but I can’t. You’re too fucking precious to me. The last one I have here, and I thought you were fucking dead.” You did no such attempt to avoid the slap which landed on your face as tears flowed down Kakucho’s face. You heard the faint gasp from all the executives of Bonten. You just kept quiet.

“Hug me, god fucking damn it. I missed you.” With no hesitation, you engulfed him in a hug, basking in his warmth which came into contact with your bare skin. You smiled, relishing the memories of your childhood.

“Fucking hell that was touching as shit.” Sanzu fake cries, deep down he still felt bad since he knew that you were as important to Kakucho as Mikey was to him. Losing you would have meant losing his entire world. In reply, you lifted your middle finger, sticking out your pierced tongue at the pink-haired male. He chuckles slowly.

“Holy shit, yer got piercings, that’s hot, dude.” You nodded at Rindou’s question .

“Show us, I mean your tattoos and piercings.”

“That’s a pretty specific kink you have, Sir Mikey. I mean, I know I look hot as shit but.” He snickered, signalling that he only wants your full identification.

“If you insist, your honour.” You fake sighed as you turned around and began explaining your tattoos.

“29 piercings and last I checked, around 18 or 19 tattoos. Got my first tattoo at 13, illegally. Thank god I didn’t die of infection or some shit. Dude was a nice guy, he even taught me how to take care of a  new tat.” They all gasped, ‘doesn’t that shit hurt you?’. Ran and Rindou who were basically half covered in tattoos were also surprised by your ability to withstand the pain.

“Which one hurt the most though? Your tits or sumn?” Sanzu bluntly asks as he touches the tattoo on your left arm.

“Oh well, yer wanna see? Better pay money though.” You smirked and sent him a wink as you gave him a slight teaser of your tattoo, he blushed. Welp, you broke the dope peddler.

“You’re quite a mystery, aren’t you?” Mikey says, his voice dark and screechy, almost like he has been straining it.

“Your back. That ain’t a tattoo. Someone carved those characters into you.” He traces the Chinese characters on your back. You slightly flinched at the sudden cold touch of his finger. “Only the top brass of Yakuza has this, yeah? Which means, you’re the current hidden leader of the Yakuza. Working for them quietly backstage, is that fun? Don’t you wanna take the credit?” He was inches away from your face, you tilted your head slightly at his demise.

“Take credit? Pftt. Observant but dumb aren’t yer, pretty boy?” You cupped his jaw between your gloved fingers. “I fucking love it when people worship me, bow to me and praise me for all my work but I wouldn’t want my pets to go unrecognised do I? Plus, isn’t it harder to keep myself lowkey from the police that way? I have my plans, baby and I don’t like it when people question me.” You smiled and let go of his jaw, never in his life has he been this stunned by someone’s actions and indifference. This was a first.

“This carving was done by my dad. I was the only child who was able to take over the family business so, here I am. Healthier than ever!” You smiled, highlighting the dimples which brightened your eyes even more under the light which shone above you.

“So, you’ve taken a blood oath?” Kokonoi asks, curious.

“Oh that’s fucken bullshit. We don’t do those. We’re just old delinquents who don’t wanna follow laws, we don’t sacrifice ourselves. I mean that does sound cool though. The most we do is cut our pinky. I’ve cut 12 as of this week,” You sat back down, nonchalantly telling them. You put your suit back on, adjusting the tie.

Bang! A loud gunshot was heard from behind you, in one swift movement, you swooped Ran and Sanzu who were directly in front of you. ‘Top criminal organisers but can’t see a bullet coming their way? Great, fucking idiots.’ You looked down, the bullet grazed by your shoulder slightly. Thank god for that. You picked up the shell and the bullet which landed not far from it. You analysed the bullet, standing up immediately after recognising it. ‘Mauser C96. 0.45 ACP. Made in Germany. Oh fuck, why are they here?’

“Oi, you twinks. Came here to save me or something?” One by one, your members peeked their heads out from behind the oil tanks. Number 2, Tanaka Ryu. This kid has been behind you since juvie days. Once he got out, he looked for you and followed you till the very end even if it meant jumping into hellfire for you.

“If I couldn’t fight, I would have died to these hot dudes, you know? Do we need to practice again? Should I drill it into your brains?” All the members, a good 25 of them, stood at attention, weapons dropped to the floor with their hands behind their back.

“No, your honour!” In unison, their voices echoed one another. Bonten was too stunned to say a thing. Their mouths merely shut tight as your dominant aura overflowed through the entire warehouse.

“Good, and Tanaka, don’t mind, okay? Small mistake. I’m fine, n’ways.”

“Apologies, your honour. Take my pin-” You shushed him as you signalled everyone to get down and ready their weapons. Bonten, who was behind you, followed your command. You gestured for Mikey to come to your side, he slowly strides towards you.

“Mikey, listen. Now, your turf is being infiltrated. You heard that gunshot? Nagant M1895. That strong shit is only used by the Yakuza traitors. Those fuckers have been on my back for the last few months and I need a few extra hands so that I can alert my turf. After that, I’ll help yer. There should be at least 230 of them. 2 top heads and the other 8 executives. The rest are all their lackeys, bad fighting skills but good spirits. Now, we separate, I’ll alert your members too.”

You and Mikey, the leaders, moved into positions immediately. Working together for the first time but it almost seemed as if you’ve worked together for the past 10 years. You stationed Sanzu and your number 3, Haruto, right in front of you. These two are wild and have a few screws loose in their brains, so they make a good pair. They can slaughter some while you make a few alerts to your guards in your territories. You wanted to get it over and done with fast even if it meant, murder. So, you analysed whatever you had in your reach.

“Y/n-chan. What are you doing? I wanna smoke.” Sanzu said, questioning what you were looking at.

“Shush, let me think of a way to get rid of evidence fast and simple.” Haruto drags Sanzu back to their station as they both chat away, swinging the bloodied weapons in their hands. Psychos, I swear.

‘Benzoyl peroxide, TNT, fire extinguisher, bleach, ammonia and diesel.’ Fucking hell, they were making this a bit too easy isn’t it? You called Sanzu and Haruto over to help you. You took the empty tank, putting on your mask before starting and gesturing the two males to do the same. You poured the bleach into the empty tank followed by ammonia.

‘Do you think what you’re doing is right?’ The tiny voice in your head asks. ‘Well these people mass murdered 226 of the Yakuza members, isn’t it only fair?, ‘Of course, but can’t the police punish them?’. ‘What. They hurt me, not the police, I’ll make them save me a seat in hell. Especially that blabbermouth oldie.’, ‘I guess there’s no stopping you, y/n l/n. You’re a murderer after all.’ Wait, what the fuck? I’m not! They did it first, why is it me? Why am I to blame? Fuck, fuck you. ‘You’re a murderer by nature, y/n. That’s why your Mom and Dad passed this onto you.’ Shut up. They’re dead, they are just ashes, seeping into earth or maybe being swallowed by maggots. Those 2 are dead to me. ‘Your mom isn’t dead. Not yet.’ Well, I want her dead. ‘You gonna kill her, too? Like what you did to your old man? You’re naive, a pretty soul, one that I would kill to dirty but you already did it yourself.’

You halted your movements, Sanzu and Haruto stared wide-eyed at your face. Your face contorted with rage, aura screaming murder at them. This brings Sanzu back to 12 years ago when- nevermind. “Earth to y/n, we gonna continue?”

“Haruchiyo. Katana. Haruto, pass him your pistol, I’ll be right back.” ‘You’re gonna regret it, y/n.’

“SHUT UP! HOLY FUCK SHUT THE FUCK UP! UGH!” You let out an indignant roar, making Kakucho and Mikey halt their movements as they continued throwing punches to the opposing team. Kakucho ran towards you, covered in blood which did not belong to him.

“Hey, y/n. Hey, look at me.” You looked at him, tears of anger welling up in your eyes. (You can only cry when you’re angry but not when you’re sad.) He pats your back, telling you to kick some ass to relieve your anger. Well, that was your green light.

You swung the Katana out from your back which had a strap, tailor made for you to store katanas. As always, pecking the handle beforehand, showing respect. ‘About 104 left, gonna be easy.’ The rest of your members and Bonten members along with the executives gathered, wanting to watch you fight. It was almost like a playback of 12 years ago.

You dropped the katana to the floor, jumping onto the first person you see, hanging from the shoulder. You swung around, possibly breaking his spine and picked up two other men by their collars. Swinging them towards the tower of diesel tanks, you made your way to your next victims.

“So, pick yer death.” You smirked, but your eyes were empty and lifeless. Your bloodthirsty aura engulfed the entire warehouse, stripping the audience off any form of excitement. The male approached you, in a split second, he was inches from your face.

“HAHAHAAHA, you’re fast but you lack experience, sweetheart.” You caressed his face, voice coated full of sinister but in his ears, it was like honey. It gave his brain whiplash how contrasting your voice was to your actions. Without batting an eye or even giving him room to recover from your touch, your left leg flew forward. Landing directly onto the wound of his temple, plunging onto the floor. You took the chance to take a seat on his back.

You rummaged through his pockets, stopping when you found his phone. You dialed a number, the others stared at you curious. “I need about, uhh, 7, no, 8 ambulances, for the Shibuya area. The warehouse down the second turn. Thank yer!” You smiled and threw the phone across the room.

“Now, there’s only… let me see… 3 of you left. Rock, paper, scissors. Winner gets to pick the lucky one.” You signaled them to start playing, with trembling figures, the 3 males began playing. You placed the lit cigarette in between your lip, enjoying others misery.

“She’s kinda hot, though.” You heard Sanzu whistling and howling from behind you as you exhaled the smoke and took off your blazer, rolling up your sleeves. You sent a kiss his way as you made your way to the poor male - a prisoner of his own bad luck.

“Hey, mister. Long time no see. I’m bigger now, if you can’t clearly see.” You subtly flaunt, towering over the male before you. You bent lower so you could make direct eye contact with him. The eye contact sent cold shivers down his spine which made him froze, his lips quivered as you moved your gloved finger, gliding down his tattooed back.

“Oi, mister. I’m talking to you, it’s rude to not reply to your master, y’know? It kinda hurts my feelings,” You faked your sadness, pretending to sob into his shoulders. If he wasn’t already stiff, he is now officially the statue of liberty.

“Y-yes, your honour!”

“Good pet. Now, let me get my work done. You know what happens to traitors, don’t you? Perverted old man.” You removed the kunai which was secured tightly in the pocketed garter which hung from your thigh. You simpered, looking pleased at the amount of fear you could elicit from the pathetic man.

“AHHHHHHHH!” He writhed in pain, screaming blue murder.

“Okay, that was the last one! 12 plus 10 equals 22! 22 pinkies!” You giggled, cracking a smile from your scarred mouth. A horrifying sight, it was.

“Fuck, didn’t know you were capable of such cruel shit.” Ran sends a surprised look, scanning you up and down as you wiped the blood off your gloves and chuckled.

“Born and bred to do this shit.”

You knew you were done but there was some unsettling feeling that irked your senses, but what was it? Could it be you forgot something-

“We’ll take over from here, as an apology and a thank you for not murdering us.” Mikey said, a small smile on his face.

“Oh no, it was great working with you, Sir Mikey.”

“Don’t call me that, on god, I’ll put a knife in your throat.”

“Do it then, it’s not a threat Mikey. ” Your little bicker was put to a stop when Kokonoi seemingly  ‘cleared his throat’ loudly.

“So, you’re a professional torturer, a sugar mommy, free show stripper, yakuza leader, a mass murderer, chemist and now, a hooker. What else do we not know about you?” Kokonoi asked, voice laced with curiosity. His eyebrows raised as his eyes searched for answers in yours.

“Oh darling, I’m a walking unsolved mystery. Yer wanna find out? Yer gotta dig deep into the layers of this earth. Yer wanna solve me still?”

“Yeah, I do.” The short, purple haired spoke up. (You forgot his name.)

“Oh then, put on a raincoat. This year’s theme is bloody halloween. Wouldn’t want blood staining yer expensive suits.” You stuck out your tongue, making a move as sirens filled the quiet warehouse. 

‘Roppongi, Don Quijote, 31st October, 9 P.M. Be there or else you owe me candy.’ The boys chuckled, making a run as the police broke in.

[smhalltheurlsaretaken]

"The prequels Jedi were corrupt," is something I've just stumbled upon, again.

How are they though? How? I want an example, a single example of corruption.

Do they take bribes? No they don't, not that we ever see. What would they even do with bribes? They don't pursue material wealth.

Do they influence politicians to gain power? Lol, Riyo Chuchi almost bosses Obi-Wan Kenobi, member of the High Council, around and only backs down because he makes a reasoned argument she agrees with. Padmé Amidala is literally the only politician we see getting influenced by a Jedi to a Jedi's benefit (*cough* Anakin diverting her from her duties *cough*). The Council systematically gets shut down when they try to get something from the Senate (like when they try to get Palpatine not to bring the Zillo beast to Coruscant - Obi-Wan and Padmé *do* ask Anakin to speak to Palpatine, and it does precisely nothing.)

Do they accept a corrupt leadership? In a sense but they don't benefit from it (since most of the Senate doesn't trust them, drafted them into a war they never wanted to be part of, and essentially forces them to send their teenagers into battle because they are stretched so thin) which makes all the difference. They don't enable the corrupt system because it profits them, they support it because the alternatives they have are worse (the Separatists during TCW, who are backed by mega corporations like the Commerce Guild, Techno Union and Trade Federation, and who enslave the Twi'Lek, the Mon Calamari and the Togruta onscreen, just for starters, and use weapons of mass destruction like the Malevolence or that defoliator thing they almost test on the Lurmen when Republic weapons are specifically made not to target organic beings - see the Zillo beast arc) and because the Senate has the authority to order the Jedi to kick people out (Ahsoka) or to drop investigations (Maul in s4, Kamino in s6), and can declare them all traitors. The Jedi don't have the means to go against the whole Republic, and frankly making sure politicians aren't corrupt should primarily be the job of the billions of citizens, not theirs (the 10000~ space monks who have kids to raise and Sith Lords to deal with and would very much like to spend their days meditating and being nerds ("I was going to study that!") and helping people.)

Do they lie to their subordinates to get more power? The Council doesn't lie about its beliefs, and its members actively practice what they preach (letting go of things, staying in control of yourself, protecting the helpless...) so no manipulation there, and while they do lie or cover up things from time to time it's never to achieve power or to benefit themselves directly. The Rako Hardeen act? They lie to save the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic, who, as far they know at this point, is their legitimate Commander-in-Chief. OpSec isn't corruption. They cover up the discovery that Dooku made the Clone Army to protect the Clones themselves (as stated by Yoda) and because the public would freak out and then they'd have a civil war on top of a galactic war to deal with. It doesn't benefit them, exactly, because they explicitly say they're not happy about the decision but don't see another way out. ("The right path, no. The only path.") Oh, and Obi-Wan literally tells Rex, Ahsoka and Bo-Katan about Sidious, because the Jedi aren't secretive as a rule. They share intel easily if it'll help people.

Do they seek power in any way? Ffs, when they go against Palpatine – the Sith Lord who orchestrated an entire and forced hundreds of them to for in it, along with hundreds of thousands of Clones and millions of civilians – Mace tried to arrest him twice in the name of the Senate. "In the name of the Galactic Senate, you're under arrest" and after Palpatine kills three Council members "you're under arrest, my Lord." He only tries to kill him without a trial after Sheev blasts him full of lightning for like two freaking minutes. Talk about a coup. (By the way, arresting the Commander-in-Chief of your armies when you have proof of his own corruption, when he has given himself control over the banks (Clovis arc), gotten more emergency powers (RotS), holds power over the courts (Wrong Jedi arc) and has stayed in office for longer than his term? That's not corruption, that's actively fighting fascism.)

You could argue that Obi-Wan sending troops to Mandalore is a misuse of power, but there's a Sith Lord there who could potentially tell them the identity of Sidious and this help end the war. Also, it doesn't benefit him directly since it puts Ahsoka in danger, it divides his fleet and it could get him in trouble since he didn't make the operation a secret in any way. The one time Obi-Wan does go to Mandalore for his own benefit, he does it without backup and without even using Republic property since he borrows Anakin's ship.

So maybe the Jedi are corrupt because they distort their old ideals and preach a false image of the Force? They are corrupt in the sense that they are stagnant and the Dark Side corrupted them? But... Yoda is the Order's greatest critic (see AotC) which points to self-awareness, as he's one of their most important leader, the "fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, hate to suffering" credo is literally how Lucas describes the Force working (see @gffa 's collection of quotes) so they are narratively correct on most of their doctrines (same goes for attachment as Lucas defines it, in opposition to love), and Yoda and Obi-Wan the quintessential Jedi are deemed worthy of immortality by non-Jedi entities. The Jedi constantly talk about how hard war is because it's against who they are at their very core ("we are keepers of the peace, not soldiers," "we are peace keepers," "unfortunately war tends to distort our point of view; if we sacrifice our ideals, even for victory, we may lose that which is most important, our honor," etc) and every decision they take is motivated by the need to protect civilians and the Order. They don't join the war, they get drafted. Hear that, Rebels!Yoda? This is why I base my understanding of Star Wars on the movies and TCW alone, aka Lucas' canon. I swear, idk wrote that part about "the Jedi joining the conflict swiftly in their arrogance" but that's not what happens in the movies. They literally go save a high profile politician and two of their own from unlawful execution and try to arrest Dooku for being a terrorist (he hired people to kill a political opponent) and a threat to the safety of the Republic (he's literally manufacturing entire armies and talking about going to war), and 200 of them get slaughtered for it, and then they get drafted as Generals despite having no military expertise and they can't say no because again, the Senate can (and would) label them as traitors, and if they don't fight the Clones have people like Tarkin leading them. (You know, just the guy who later commits genocide on a whole planet.)

Seriously, I want one, just one concrete example of the PT Order/Council being corrupt, because it's such a common accusation that surely it must be grounded in canon somehow. Right? Right?

[chaoticpuff17]

Suga, We’re Going Down

Part 1

masterlist

Because, my darlings, I have no impulse control and Yoongi demanded to be written. I’m going to see if I can balance between SW and this, alternate releasing chapters for each story, but we’ll see. The title is a working title. don’t know if I’ll stick with it. I’m open to suggestions. Enjoy, my lovlies! It was a blast to write!-- Chaotic puff

here’s a link to the song the MC plays in this chapter!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3qrKjywjo7Q 

Yoongi didn’t go to events like this. He was a professional, but even professionals got blocks sometimes, and he was having a block. He couldn’t seem to produce anything new. He had spent hours in his studio trying to come up with something, but the muse had abandoned him. He needed to get out of his head, to get out of the studio for a while.

That was how he ended up sitting through a university showcase watching young, aspiring musicians present their skills. It was a far more classical feel than he used in his music. He was a rap god. He didn’t really use Debussy and Mozart in his work. But there was something amusing about watching all the fresh faced youths taking their showcase so seriously. Most of them would never be serious musicians. They would never play for a national symphony, but the way they all looked it was as if they were playing for some great orchestra or symphony instead of a small college showcase was amusing. It was all so serious, all so insignificant.

He was bored with it. Bored with the overly perfect renditions of the same songs that people had been playing for decades. Where was the feeling? Where was the passion? They were all just clinically passing through the motions for a grade. None of them would make serious musicians, not playing the way they did.

He was about to leave when the first strains of the cello caught his attention. It was the first real emotion he had heard from any of them. His eyes snapped to the stage to see a pair of girls. One was seated at the piano while the other was sat on a solitary chair with a cello before her. Both of them were as perfectly put together as every other student that had gone before them had been, black dresses and not a hair out of place.

He ignored the pianist in the favor of the cellist. Her eyes were closed as she played the rest of her face serene. She was completely at peace even though the song she played showed a deep sorrow. The song was just as recognizable as every other piece that had been played that night. The only difference was the musician.

She was lovely, pale and fragile under the stage lights, but there was also something almost unbearably sad about her, and it showed in her playing. The piece itself was already melancholy, but the way she played it was nearly heartbreaking. Her hair was pulled back in a neat updo that left her face clear for his perusal. Even with her eyes closed her face was filled with emotion. The simple string of pearls around her neck highlighted its curve, its swan like quality. Everything about her was simple, classic, graceful as she played.

He looked through the program he had been given when he’d first arrived searching for the song, searching for a name, her name. There is it was. The Swan composed by Camille Saint-Saens played by Kang Y/N and accompanied by Guem Nina. Kang Y/N. The name rang through his head carried by the melody she played. Beautiful. Beautiful and sad just like the song she played, just like her.

The song passed by too quickly for his liking. Before he knew it she was pulling her bow across the strings for the final time. Both musicians bowed to the audience before disappearing backstage and out of his sight. The spell was broken, but Yoongi still wanted to know more. Who was she? Why was she so sad? Why had she chosen that song? Yoongi wanted to know it all. The thought of her sent inspiration running through him. The fire was lit again telling him to create, to compose, for her.

He wanted to know what she would think of his music. Did she listen to rap? More specifically, did she listen to him? Or did she prefer classical music like the kind she had just played? Did she play any other instruments? Did she sing? How would the cello sound intertwined with his own style of music? He wanted to know the answer to all of these questions and so many more, but first he had to find her. Kang Y/N. His new muse.

So he sent out a bodyguard to find out everything about her that he could. Perhaps he should have felt guilty sending out a man to practically stalk the girl and bring him information on her, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel guilty about the invasion of her privacy. She consumed him, filling his thoughts. He wanted her near him. He wanted to hear her play, wanted to wipe the sadness from her features, and he was determined to do just that. She was meant to be his, and he wouldn’t rest until she was.  

Y/N was unaware of the thoughts coursing through his head as she was backstage tucked into a broom closet peeling herself out of her dress and the uncomfortable heels in favor of a pair of ripped jeans and a comfy sweater. She let her hair down from its tight confines and secured it in a loose pony tail. She loved playing, but stepping out on stage was always nerve wracking for her. The dresses and the perfectly put together faces never seemed like her. She wasn’t fancy or elegant. She was just… her. She didn’t even own the cello she had just played. She could never afford such a beautiful instrument. It belonged to the school.

She had had the cello on loan so long as she participated in the university orchestra, but that deal could no longer be upheld on her end. Family and financial obligations would no longer allow it. They were barely making ends meet as it was. She didn’t have the time to spend at rehearsals and practices when she needed to be focusing on her studies and working. Even her studies would have to take a back seat if their fortunes didn’t take a turn for the better soon.

It was just her, her grandmother, and her baby nephew, well no longer quite a baby. He was going to be three before she knew it. Her mother had taken off years ago. She flew in and out of their lives whenever it suited her usually when she wanted someone from them. Her father, bless him, couldn’t hold down a job to save his life. He was a dreamer. He sat at home most days contemplating the great questions of life like some sort of great philosopher. Most times he was drunk when he did this. She thanked god that he wasn’t violent drunk. His head was in the clouds more than else when he was drunk. Her sister, well no one really knew where Ha Jin was. She had taken off after the baby was born. She’d left Eun Jae with her and their grandmother, and she’d disappeared into the wind just like their mother had.

Part of her wanted to blame her little sister, to scream to the high heavens that it wasn’t fair that she was too young to be responsible for a child, but so was Ha Jin. She had been a child when she’d gotten pregnant, just seventeen when the baby was born. She was far too young to be a mother. Y/N couldn’t blame her for not being ready to raise a child, but she could blame her for abandoning Eun Jae.

Eun Jae didn’t know his mother. As far as he was concerned Y/N was his mother. She and Halmeoni were his whole world, his whole family. Her father couldn’t be counted as any sort of parental figure. He couldn’t be counted as one for his own daughters much less for his grandson. She’d heard her grandmother curse on more than one occasion that the gods had given her such a useless son.  Y/N had cursed on more than one occasion that the gods had given her such a useless father. But they had to work with what they were given, and this was the hand that fate had played them.

She had been eight when she’d figured out that both of her parents were useless. She’d been sixteen when she’d gotten her first part time job to help support the family. She’d been nineteen when she’d had to become a mother for her nephew. It was a shitty life, but it was hers.

Despite all the chaos Eun Jae had brought into the world, she wouldn’t trade him for anything. She loved that little boy more than life. He was her little angel, her light, the reason she was willing to sacrifice anything, to sacrifice everything. She may not have birthed him, but he was her son. He was the reason that she was sitting in a chicken place late in the evening a few days after the showcase with Nina. The pair of them were huddled over a phone making a profile on an app called sugarbebe.

“Are you sure about this?” Nina asked as they finalized her profile. “Maybe you could get another job.”

“I’m already working two jobs, along with school and practice, and Eun Jae. I can’t take on anything else.” She shook her head tiredly, glaring down at her phone in distaste. “We need the money.”

“What are you going to tell Halmeoni?” Nina questioned brows furrowed worriedly.

“I’m not going to tell Halmeoni anything. She thinks I’m looking for another job to take the place of orchestra.”

“And she’s okay with that?”

“No.” She laughed recalling the look on her grandmother’s face when she had told her that she was quitting orchestra. “She’s pissed at me. Says I’m wasting my God given talent, and that I’ll end up like my mom and my father and my sister if I’m not careful.”

“Harsh.” The other girl cringed knowing full well just how scary Y/N’s grandmother could be. “I still can’t believe it was your last concert.”

“It was only a showcase. Forget orchestra. Halmeoni said all that, and I haven’t even mentioned the possibility of giving up school to help with the bills.”

Nina’s eyes widened almost comically. “She’s going to kill you.”

“Yeah. I know.” She shuddered thinking of what her grandmother would do to her if she did quit school to help. It would not be a pretty picture. “I think she’d beat me black and blue with her favorite soup ladle.”

“Then let’s hope she doesn’t find out, and let’s hope you find yourself a rich sugar daddy.” Nina raised her glass in a mock toast, and Y/N raised hers as well.

“Here’s hoping.”

They pressed the button submitting her profile on the app. It was too late to back out now. If she was lucky whoever chose her wouldn’t be too old or perverted. With any luck he wouldn’t be ugly either, but that was asking a lot and she didn’t hold that much hope.  She’d be lucky if the guy wasn’t too much of a creep.

They both stared down at the phone in shock as it chimed, the banner announcing that she had a match on sugarbebe. Neither of them had expected anything quite that soon.

“Well, open it! What does it say? Who did you match with?” Nina asked excitedly eyes taking up almost the whole of her face with how wide they were.

She tapped on her phone opening the profile. MYG. No picture. Age twenty-seven. A producer. There wasn’t much information, but there was a message from the man asking to meet in person.

Nina looked over her shoulder frowning as she examined the profile as well. “He doesn’t have much information does he?”

“He wants to meet.”

“When?”

“Friday.” She gulped suddenly filled with nerves. It was all becoming so real. “He’s wants to meet on Friday at D-2.”

They both knew D-2. Every young person in the city knew it. It was the hottest club in Seoul at the moment, made even hotter by the fact it was owned by the king of rap himself, Agust D. To get into D-2 you either had to be rich, famous, or willing to wait in atrociously long lines and tipping the bouncer an outrageous amount of money wouldn’t hurt your chances either.

“D-2?” Nina gasped practically ripping the phone out of her hand to read the message herself. “Are you sure?”

“That’s what it says.”

“Do you have anything to wear?”

It was a good question. She really didn’t have anything that could be considered worthy of a place like D-2. Nothing she owned was really sexy. It was mostly comfy sweaters, jeans, and cute skirts. Things she could wear to school and work and were comfortable enough to chase a toddler around in. None of those would be appropriate for the club. Neither would any of the dresses she used for concerts. And the look on her face clearly conveyed that to Nina.

“You can borrow something of mine.” She assured gently patting her friend’s arm. “Maybe he won’t be so bad?”

“Maybe.” She agreed nervously.

“You can borrow that purple dress of mine. I can lend you some earrings too.” Nina offered sending her a reassuring smile. “At least you know if he’s meeting you at D-2 he’s gotta be rich.”

Y/N smiled back nervously. “I’m just hoping he’s not too much of a creep. Eun Jae is supposed to be with me at the apartment on Friday. Do you think you could babysit? If I ask Halmeoni to keep him at the restaurant she’ll ask questions.”

She had a small apartment close to campus that she stayed at normally. Eun Jae would bounce between the apartment and the family home with Halmeoni. It was good for him to be out of the house and away from her father sometimes, and it allowed her to keep Eun Jae close. She saw him often enough as she worked at Halmeoni’s restaurant, but on the weekends he would stay with her at the apartment. She’d take him back to Halmeoni’s on Sunday evening, and they’d both stay the night. Halmeoni would watch him during the week while she had classes, practice, and work, and Halmeoni lived closer to the preschool they were sending him to. She hated being away from him so much, but it was the best they could do for the moment.

“Of course I’ll watch Jae-ah.” Nina smiled. “You know I love the little guy. I’m his favorite auntie.”

“You’re his only auntie.”

“Technically, you’re his aunt.”

“Well unless Ha Jin suddenly shows up with a maternal instinct, I’m all he’s got in the mom department.”

“Poor kid.” Nina cringed teasingly.

“Hey.”  Y/N shoved her shoulder playfully. “I’m a great mom.”

“You’re okay at it.” The other girl dodged another hit. “I mean, he does have a sugar baby for a mom.”

“First of all, rude. Second, it’s only until we get our heads above water again, and then never again. This will all be a bad memory.”

Nina squeezed her arm sympathetically. “Maybe you’ll actually have a good time.”

“I really don’t think so, but how bad could it be?” It wasn’t going to be forever, and she could put up with anything to help her family, for Eun Jae.  

part 2

[ohmysparkle]

🔮 A New Arrival 🔮

✨ Spellbound: Prologue

Series Masterlist

✨ Pairing: Hyunjin x reader

✨ Length: 2.9k

✨ Warnings: none in this chapter

✨ Tag List: @xviternity @straykisz @97lovestay @aliceu @meow-minho @velvetand-roses

✧･ﾟ🌑: *✧🌙 . *⭐️:*✧✨* : ･ﾟ✧ *.🌑 ✧･ﾟ

A dainty young secretary in a stylish little skirted suit dashes down a hallway towards an office, holding a telephone receiver in her hand, careful that the wire doesn’t snag behind her lest her boss get upset. Afterall, he’s been waiting for this for quite some time.

Knock, knock, knock!

“Yes?” A sharp voice calls out on the other side of the heavy wooden doors. She opens one wide.

“Mr. Mayor! They’re on the line for you!” She urges.

“Damn time, Alyssa! Come in, hurry up and bring your notebook!” He shouts. The secretary dashes back to her desk and grabs her notepad, looking back to the Mayor’s office to see if he’s connected to the line before she hangs the receiver. She dashes back, little heels clicking on the glossy floor.

“Speaker.” She insists to the mayor, urging so that he presses the button in time for her to hear the person on the other line answer. His neat mustache wiggles before he gives a stern “Hello.” for whoever is on the line.

“Hello, this is the Old Zealand Office of Coordination for the Association of Guilds, Clans and other Specialists on Magical, Supernatural and Paranormal Affairs, also known as SMSPA Central. This is Ezra, Lead Coordinator, speaking. What may I help you with today?” Both the Mayor and his assistant quirk eyebrows at the upbeatness of the man's way of speaking, and the mayor clears his throat before his focus escapes him.

“Ezra, good man! This is Mayor Armand Brandywine speaking from Nocturne Town, from the League of Lake Towns… Uh, calling because, hmm… I believe Ezra, it’s been two months-“

“Nocturne, Nocturne, Nocturne… hmm?” Ezra ponders, measuring the familiarity of the name - “Oh yes! The Ponies! I saw your Towns in a travel magazine just last week! My wife has insisted we go over to the League for our anniversary, she says apparently the great lakes over there are crystal clear, and that there are hills full of flowers and quaint little towns pocketed beneath, and that you use the most darling trains and ferries to move about. And the semi-annual pony contest!”

“I - yes, well - we do. Listen Ezra, as I was saying… it’s been four months since we filed an official request to have a specialist come here to help with a witch problem…”

“A witch?!” Ezra exclaims in disbelief, “A witch way out there? No way, you’re not even close to any of our mildly risky areas… there’s hardly any magical activity on your continent. Are you sure it’s a ‘bad’ witch?”

“Yes, positive.”

“Like a ‘sold her soul’ to the devil kind of witch? Or ‘weird lady who lives in the woods and smokes a pipe that makes people sort of uncomfortable but is actually really harmless’ kind of witch?” He questions.

“The former.” Armand replies flatly, giving Alyssa a look.

“Bad?” Ezra confirms.

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“And to whom did you submit your request with this claim?” Ezra continues asking.

“To a mister…” Armand looks at Alyssa.

“Zachary Z.” Alyssa whispers, clearly mouthing out the name.

“It was addressed to a Mr. Zachary, I believe he was the liaison for this region.” Armand states.

“Oh no…” Ezra does not say anything after this exclamation, and again, Alyssa and Armand share a look throughout that moment of silence.

“Oh… no?” Armand asks after uncomfortably expecting Ezra’s reply..

“Yes, ‘oh no’... you see, Zack was on a field assignment a few months ago and… well, he died. He was assessing if a local pyromancer had become a danger worthy of sending a specialist.”

“Oh.” Armand mouths to Alyssa, with her silently making the same gesture.

“We wouldn’t have any record of his assignments - he had his suitcase with him when he burned.” Ezra continued.

“Oh!” Alyssa silently exclaimes, again, crossing wide eyes with her boss, both of their faces contorting into grimaces.

“Oh poor Zack… He burned, suitcase and all…” Ezra reminisces. Armand is at a loss of words in the awkwardness of it all until the man on the other end bounces back. “So anyways, tell me about this witch of yours to see if I can help. When were the first and last reported sightings? ” Ezra returns to his upbeat, almost musical tone of speaking, having not missed a beat despite the sorrowful interlude.

“Well, you see… no one’s actually seen here. But - “

“Invisibility, you say?! Now that’s something you don’t see often!” Ezra prematurely interrupts, not missing the opportunity for his pun.

“No, no! I mean we haven’t sighted her… yet!” He corrects.

“So you are… placing a request for a specialist… for a witch that is unconfirmed?” Ezra says rather skeptically.

“But, there have been signs! Items, I mean trinkets, of witchcraft appearing in people's homes, dead animals stuffed with tokens…” the Mayor explains.

“Don’t forget the symbols!” Alyssa urgently whispers.

“And symbols! Runes! Painted on people's doors and under their beds!” Just as if he were visiting a skeptical doctor, Mayor Brandywine made the symptoms seem as serious as he could in fear that he would not be taken seriously.

“Hmm… could just be a prankster… any other proof? Any bewitchings? Hexes? Evident signs of curses or dark magic?”

“Well… people have dreamt of the same faceless woman, but I’m afraid we can't prove anything.”

“Well, in that case, it might be difficult to process a request on the basis of a witch. Besides, if there really is a witch, and she’s not actively harming the population, it might be better to just… let her be.” Ezra muses.

“Let her be?!” Alysaa mouths to Armand, which he repeats verbatim to Ezra on the line with emphasis on his outrage.

“Well, yeah, I mean… ‘evil’ and ‘bad’ are both pretty wide scopes. Maybe, if you think about it, witches are almost still human. Just think of her as a bad neighbor. Sometimes it’s more bothersome to deal with them and confront them than to simply let them be” Ezra suggests.

“Wait! Hold on, hold on! Can’t you at least send us someone to evaluate the situation? Maybe one of those fancy Black Knights?”

“Ha! Black Knights, ha! Get a load of this guy Zelda, he wants a Black Knight for one witch!” Armand and Alyssa can hear several people laughing on the other end of the line, most likely seated in desks beside Ezra’s. “No way… have you not seen how things are over in Arcadia? Necromancers, lots of real witches that people actually see, all kinds of undead… ha! Good luck trying to find a Black Knight at this rate, they’re all boarded up in their own country. Simply no way. They won’t leave their little civil-war-issue-thingy over there unless it's something serious. Like bad bad bad black magic serious, not ‘maybe a witch’.”

“Fine!” Armand says with an eye roll, “What about an Other Brother, or a Ghost Buster?!”

“Listen to this guy! Are you honestly willing to go beg one of those associations for an unconfirmed witch?”

“Alright, alright… What about one of those Arctic Druids?”

“No! No! Simply no! We do not work with those people anymore, they are way too fond of human sacrifice. No!” He firmly refutes.

“Then who the hell can deal with a witch?” Armand asks in exasperation, still communicating with Alyssa in silent glances.

“Oh we’ve got a handful of people available… but not for your case, seeing how it is. Hmm… let me think… Are you maybe dealing with anything else?” Brandywine takes advantage of this question to put in complaints that have been more complicated to deal with.

“Yes! Werewolves - plenty of them, and I’m pretty sure someone has been sneaking some bloodusckers into town.” The mayor emphasizes this with a slammed palm on the table.

“Well, Mr. Brandywine, I’m seeing here that some of the towns in the League allow werewolves… hmm.” The sound of flipping papers and heavy slams of stack of folders is clear over the speaker. “But I see here in my records that Nocturne itself is not a ratifying member of the ‘Treatise on the Rights of Magically Affected’ of ‘78, yet I also see that werewolves residents are allowed so long as they adhere to specific medical protocol - which as I see, is being tended to by a Dr. Nemo…”

“Yes but they are a danger to the population! They - they…” the Mayor looks at Alyssa for guidance.

“Say they spend the full moon naked in the woods!” She whispers with fervent urgency and he nods. Bingo!

“They transform without any kind of restraint, running free through town. The woods are like a hunting ground for them, God forbid any innocent happen to roam near there at night. Near feral, I say!” Armand dramatically states.

“Hmm… Well, they should be following medical protocol under the supervision of a trained magical practitioner. I see you have someone assigned,,, a Dr. Nemo? And, these vampires, they are outlawed within your jurisdiction, is that correct? I don’t see any record of any vampiric trespassing, no reported cases or documentation here at all.” Armand worries at Ezra’s skeptical tone, concerned he’ll lose his request.

“It’s that damn Doctor, I tell you!” He finally exclaimes, “I’m sure she’s been bringing in all those vampys under the table. You know what we do to them, they must submit to the authorities to be defanged and treated - that is the law here. Some of those free loving magi hippies on the other Islands may think differently, but everything to the west of me is a Vampire Free Zone.”

“The sirens!” Alyssa quietly interjects.

“And do not get me started on the damn sirens! Zombies too!” Armand concludes.

“Hmm…” Ezra thinks, he has quite a dilemma. According to all records, Mayor Armand Brandywine and several other governors in the League of Lake Towns are quite ‘anti-magic’, not so much the practice of it, but the act of being magical. He isn’t a stranger to getting calls like these, trying to put much needed specialists in situations that are otherwise political, and quite frankly, he was quite clear on not having one of his guys go in to terrorize people.

Ezra considers some of Zachary’s old notes… scribbled on some files in a shared folder. “Mayor Brandywine - staunch anti magi-humanist” meaning, he did not consider magically affected peoples, such as vampires and werewolves, zombies and sirens, to be human at all but instead monsters. Ezra could not allocate a particularly special specialist such as a Black Knight for such a frivolous case. After all, there were greater urgencies elsewhere on his hemisphere. Besides, his organization did not treat such individuals as monsters, he could not give Brandywine what he seemed to suggest he wanted. Monsters, by the standards of the SMSPA, were non-human entities. Enchanted animals and whatnot, ghouls, definitely the incurable undead - so long as they were precisely incurable. He thinks of a possible solution until something catches his eye…

A sheet tucked neatly into the regional folder where Mayor Brandywine’s town’s information was, titled simply “Dr. Nemo - Practitioner of Magical Medicine and Professor of Magical Biology”. Most of the fields were blacked out with ink, a brief description stating that her office was in Nocturne Town, despite the stance of Brandywine, and that she taught a focus course in a magical academy on the other side of the League. Hmm, no picture either, and suspiciously young.

Ezra continued to study the sheet, finding something of particular interest. A stamped red seal that every coordinator in Central knew, but that he had only come across twice before in all of his years of service:

Do not intervene - Tier S approval. The licences assigned to this person were quite… advanced, and quite… obscure. And below… request submitted by the Armed Forces of the League of Lake Towns.

Ah yes, a centralized police and military force for all of the smaller cities and townships in the League. Must be messy, especially considering the polarized stances on magic from the different members on the lake. But why would a magical practitioner require such high level authorization? He’d only seen it used for instances involving Black Knights and the like… never for something as lowly as medical men.

This is definitely one of those hush hush situations, lots of the specialists in his region required anonymity, hid from persecution because of their skills, or ran from some of their previous targets… especially if those individuals worked in the same field as this so-called Dr. Nemo. But this person… he didn’t place them in Nocturne, or else he would have remembered. This must have come from higher up - one of those top secret cases that Zachary would occasionally manage.

It certainly was curious. He held the blacked out form in his hands, retracing the dented letters that pressed this curious name on the paper… Dr. Nemo. Sounded like something out of a book.

“I have… a possible solution.” Ezra finally states, after the Mayor and his assistant had been expectantly leaning into the speaker for some time. “Maybe, perhaps, I can send you someone… Zandor!” Ezra calls to someone who seems to be at a distance from him. “Have we got any newbies?”

“What field?” A voice calls back in the distance.

“Monster hunters.” Ezra specifies.

“We got a class of newbies from that place they sent us that last guy from - the one you sent after that undead bear.” Zandor answers back.

“Gimme!” Ezra orders with a couple of finger snaps, and soon enough Alyssa and Armand hear a heavy folder plop on his desk. “Let’s see here… hmm, quite a few available clansmen… eenie meenie miney mo! Aha! No, not this one… aha!”

Ezra studies the page. The picture is of a young man who looks a bit too young to be in the field. The boy is trained to deal with most issues passively, good references, a bit inexperienced. No reports of excessive force. Mayor Brandywine won't be able to do much harm with the kid’s stats, he thinks, and he’s got good training and just the right licences. Silence again, until Ezra resumes after having studied the file.

“Aha! I’ve got your man. Hmm, and he’s quite a looker! Hyunjin, Hwang Hyunjin. Recently licensed as a tier one monster hunter… deals with all kinds of threatening non-occult entities... authorized to identify threats that are of the occult or ‘other’ nature. Can dispel moderately complex dark magic… transfiguration, discretion, stealth. Sounds good. The boy won’t cost you as much as a Black Knight, that for sure. If you have a werewolf or vampire problem, he can deal, and if you do have a witch, he can send us the claim and we’ll scale it up. How does that sound?”

“Not ideal.” Armand replies with a sigh. “How much does he cost?”

“Hmm…” Ezra presses keys into some kind of machine, “two and ninety seven hundredths of Zealand Zeals per Rupee… fifteen point two Limnian Ponies per… He’s gonna cost you twenty thousand Ponies a month.”

“How much do we have?” Armand quickly whispers to Alyssa.

“We can go up to thirty grand.” She replies. He nods, knowing what part to play.

“Twenty thousand?! We don't have that kind of money!” the Mayor exclaims, putting on the best of his acts. “We can do fifteen!”

Ezra takes a good, long sigh before replying. “Fifteen… and you offer top quality room and board, full, two days a week off, and one day a week for him to take private jobs in the area. He works four days for scheduled items, but will be available 24/7 for emergencies pending his acknowledgment of it actually being an emergency.”

“Deal.” Brandywine quickly affirms, quietly snickering at his accomplishment.

“That being said… I see you only have one other magical specialist in the region, that being this Dr. Nemo. You will make sure Clansman Hwang has access to medical care in the case of any event, and you will make sure he is given a thorough briefing on the area he will service, in this case I am writing his permit to do his work in Nocturne Town, and authorizing him to take up private commissions and attend to emergencies throughout the entire League.”

“Done.”

“Very well Mister Brandywine - “

“Mayor.” He corrects.

“... Mayor Brandywine. You can expect your specialist to arrive in ten days, please be mindful of the documentation and permits he hands you, you will need to keep them safe. Payment instructions will be attached, we collect monthly. For any additional inquiries, feel free to call, and I’d greatly appreciate if you could stay on the line to answer a quick survey if you considered my services satisfactory this day. Thank you for calling Old Zealand Office of Coordination for the Association of Guilds, Clans and other Specialists on Magical, Supernatural and Paranormal Affairs, goodbye.” Ezra’s tone had become flatter, but in view of his dirty victory, Mayor Armand Brandywine did not notice.

The line soon goes dead.

“So… looks like we’ve got a fix to our little problems. Make sure to register the expenses as twenty thousand ponies. Understand?” He says to Alyssa.

“And if it’s not billed in the invoice? They said only fifteen.” She questions.

“Administrative expenses.”

[epic-sorcerer]

Merlin would have been so much more gay if the writers stayed true to Celtic paganism(the historicaly accurate “old religion”)

Trigger warnings:

Main triggers: talk of sex, homophobia, religion, Catholics, colonization, anti Celtic, murder

Mention triggers: rape and sexual assault, creepy men, gore, insest, toxic masculinity

I will mark the sections with quick triggers with 2 red lines. Below the second one is when the trigger is gone.

_____________

I am posting this on December 21st, as today is the Winter Solstice, a Celtic Pagan holiday. It will be posted at 3:33 PM, as 3 is a sacred number among the celts. Because of the special occasion, I will be speaking on a subject that was important to many of them—homosexuality.

Some stuff first for introductions. Yes, yes, I know this may be boring but it helps with context. This religion didn’t have a name other than Celtic pagan or Celtic religion bc it seams everyone there believed it. This was until the Roman Empire concurred what is now the UK. Since Rome had adopted Christianity—more specifically, Roman Catholocism—they only allowed that religion to be practiced.

———(genocide)——

Once England was concurred in 43 A.D, the pagans were killed and their religion was surpressed. Not much is known about the pagans for this reason. However, we do know somethings from what the Romans have written down. Although, it is biased, as they believed the celts to be barbaric and also didn’t wright much about women.

——gore ——

First, we know they preformed human sacrifice on kings when the kingdom suffered along with some other groups.This could be from bad ruling to really bad weather. These kings died horribly, as they seamed to be stabbed multiple times, had thier nipples cut off, and left to die in a bog.

They had thier nipples cut off because the subjects would suck on the kings’ nipples to demonstrate submission, so cutting them off would fully dethrone the king.

—————

Now, background over. Here’s where it gets good.

Nipple sucking between too lovers or ‘special friends’ was seen as a preclemation of love, physical intimacy, and sexual expression. This, like other types of sex, was seen as something beutiful and sacred. Often, male soldiers would have these ‘special friend’ relationships with many fellow soldiers in groups. The Romans even observed that Celtic men seamed to prefer other males for love/sexual interest over women.

Nipple sucking was mostly described was between two men. Although, we must recognize that women may have been left out of written history. I would also like to point out, this may prove that aromantic people existed in that time, as these ‘special friends’ had sex and were not mentioned to be romantically involved.

The celts were known for their sex positivity and even eroticism because they loved it so much.This is one of the reasons why the pagans and the Chatholics clashed so badly.

Before the Romans really took over, Saint Patrick—yes, the Saint Patrick—started to try to convert the celts into Roman catholosim. He was appalled at the wide acceptance of polyamory(women were aloud to marry however many people they wanted) and homosexual relationships/marriages. Not to mention the celts could have sex with any one at any time as long as it is consensual.

——(Tw creepy men)——

That means no waiting til marriage, unless a Celtic chose to do so. Although we should take into consideration a statement made by Diodorus Siculus, an antient Greek historian, that “the young men will offer themselves to strangers and are insulted if the offer is refused.” In his series Bibliotheca historica. This could mean that either creepy men were comman place, or that homosexuality was so comman and done with everyone, it was wierd to be rejected.

————

Getting back to the Roman Catholics, the book Sextus Empiricus is published in the early 3th century and states,

“...amongst the Persians it is the habit to indulge in intercourse with males, but amongst the Romans it is forbidden by law to do so...”

It also goes on to say,

“...amongst us sodomy is regarded as shameful or rather illegal, but by the Germanic they say, it is not looked on as shameful but as a customary thing.”

For clarification, Germany is apart of Celtic society. So what we can infer is a very serious culture shock in terms of Rome and other places. During Emporor Serverus Alexander’s reign, openly homosexuals were deported.

In early 4th century, Emporor Constaine—the first Christian Roman Emperor—destroyed an Egyptian temple populated exclusively by femme, gay, pagan, priests. The Emproror then went on to eradicate all of them. However in 337 A.D., 3 emperors ruled, including Constantius II and Constans I, who where both in mlm relationships.

An odd thing these emporors went on to do was criminalize male bottoming during mlw sex 342 A.D.. 8 years later, Emperors Valentinian II, Theodosius I, and Arcadius ferther punished this act by killing these men by Public burning at the stake.

———(Tw toxic masculinity)———

I believe this was because masculinity was very important and a man acting in a more feminine role was seen as emasculating and humiliating. For the average man, he had to fight and defend his masculinity. Not doing so was seen as a personal failure.

——————

The last ever known peice of European literature containing a positive representation of homosexuality for 1,000 years was a large epic poem by Nonnus of Panopolis. It was titled Dionysiaca and the first part was published in 390 A.D., the last in 405 A.D..

So yeah, The catholics were very selective in terms of sex. One can only imagine how badly the celts and Catholics clashed. Back to 435 A. D., Saint Patrick began to preach Catholism and around that time wrote in his Confessio. He recounted that he found a boat to get out of Ireland and refused to suck on the nipples of those aboard.

“And on the same day that I arrived, the ship was setting out from the place, and I said that I had the wherewithal to sail with them; and the steersman was displeased and replied in anger, sharply: ‘By no means attempt to go with us.’ Hearing this I left them to go to the hut where I was staying, and on the way I began to pray, and before the prayer was finished I heard one of them shouting loudly after me: ‘Come quickly because the men are calling you.’ And immediately I went back to them and they started to say to me: ‘Come, because we are admitting you out of good faith; make friendship with us in any way you wish.’ (And so, on that day, I refused to suck the breasts of these men from fear of God, but nevertheless I had hopes that they would come to faith in Jesus Christ, because they were barbarians.) And for this I continued with them, and forthwith we put to sea.”

—(Tw very mild rape/sex assault mention—

So, as you can see, Celtic and Catholic ways clashed horribly. Something seen as good and sacred to the indigenous tribes was seen as barbaric and sinful to Saint Patrick. Also, don’t worry, the celts did not press the issue ferther, or else this would be a very different story.

—————

This only snowballed into a much bigger issue much later in medival English sexuality. They were VERY picky on what sex was aloud. Missionary was the only aloud position and it has to be the least pleasurable as possible. Making out and masturbation wasn’t aloud either, as that was also seen as a sin. Here’s a low Rez chart to help figure out when sex was okay.

While we are discussing such a queer topic, I would like to bring up the topic of Anam Cara, or Soul Friends in Antient Celtic culture. A Soul Friend was a word used to describe a Philosophy in which one is not completely whole without thier “other half.” This person can be in a platonic, romantic, or familiar kind of love. Really, all it boils down to is that 2 poeple were made to be together since the beginning of time and will be at thier strongest when they become companions.

There is a Celtic legend that seams to depict a mlm Anam Cara relationship. It tells the story of Cuchulainn and Ferdiad, two male worriors who have known and loved each other a long time. But they must kill each other in a duel. Both are vary reluctant, as at least one of them will have to die.

————(Tw insest)———

Before I go on, it is important to mention there is a lot of debate on wether or not this is homosexual. Mainly because they were foster brothers, but since insest wasn’t as much of a taboo, I do not think this would be as much of a set back as it is today.

—————

They had tried to kill each other each day for 3 days, but they ended up hugging each other and kissing 3 times. On the fourth day, however, Cuchulainn killed Ferdiad. The man then holds Ferdiad in his arms and sings peoms for a long time. Here are some:

“We were heart-companions once,

We were comrades in the woods,

We were men that shared a bed

When we slept the heavy sleep

After hard and weary fights.

Into many lands, so strange,

And side by side we sallied forth

And we ranged the woodlands through,When with Scathach we learned arms!”

Heart companions seams to be similar or the same as soul freind, because of how it’s used. Although sleeping in the same bed isn’t inherently sexual, Cuchulainn then goes on to complement Ferdiad’s physical features.

“Dear to me thy noble blush,

Dear thy comely, perfect form;

Dear thine eye, blue-grey and clear,

Dear thy wisdom and thy speech”

Although this is deeply sweet I would also like to caution that Chuhulainn may have simply been commenting on his healthiness, but blush is an odd word considering he is now dead.

Two male lovers, one dead in the other’s arms. Soul friends, maybe. Reminds me of a certain show..I don’t know I just can’t put my finger on it...

I would also like to point out that because Celtics did not pressure others to have sex, and that a soul friend can be any type of love, I do think that an asexual or someone on that spectrum could live without judgment.Unfortunately, I could not find much about intersex, androgynous, or trans people. Perhaps if I find anything in the future and will make a new post.

In conclusion, if Merlin were more historicaly accurate, he definitely would have been queer. Especially because he is said to be magic itself, it would make sense for him to be the personification of Celtic values. That may include homosexuality, because as previously stated, Celtic men really liked other men.

I’m excited to see what will come of this post, seeing as not a lot of people in the fandom seem to know this. More fanfiction? More fanart? It would probably inspire a lot of creators. So, if you do make something because of this post, please notify me in the notes, an ask, an @ or something. Basically anything but a PM. I would be happy to see/read the creation.

Sources:

Sexuality and love in Celtic society:

Same Sex Celts

Druid Thoughts: of Sex and Druids

Anam Cara, what’s a soul mate?

Sexuality in Ancient Ireland

The Celts, Women, and Sex

LGBT history

Sexuality and love in Medival Society:

Getting down and medival: the sex lives of the Middle Ages

Sex in the Middle Ages

Here’s What Sex Was Like In Medieval Times. It’ll Make You Feel Glad You Weren’t Born Back Then!

General Celtic Society:

Who Were the Celts

Celtic Religion and Belieifs

Saint Patrick

17 Things You Probably Didnt know about Saint Patrick

Confession of Saint Patrick

Cuchulainn and Ferdiad

Cuchulainn and Ferdiad, Gay Lovers?

The Combat of Ferdiad and Cuchulain

Insest in Antient Celtic Society

Ancient Irish elite practiced incest, new genetic data from Neolithic tomb shows

Homosexuality in the Roman Empire

Timeline of LGBT history

Timeline of LGBT history in the United Kingdom

[prurientpuddlejumper]

Don’t Look! [Part 4]

<- Part 3 | Part 5 ->

Frederick Chilton x Reader

@we-are-all-just-a-bit-crazy’s lovecraftian horror AU, with a bit of my own twist on the origin story. Emotional hurt/comfort. Body horror. Hugging your body-horror monster boyfriend. 

3,386 words

Once upon a time, there lived a man who had everything: great wealth (built on the backs of exploited workers), a grand estate, a beautiful wife, and many mistresses waiting in the wings. Yet after years of trying, he failed to produce an heir. Determined that his money could buy anything, the man scoured the world, searching for a solution. One day, his extensive resources brought him to an ancient castle in Lithuania, where the last descendants of a noble bloodline offered him a devil’s bargain—a book, a summoning ritual. He did not ask questions. His wife was finally with child.

The Chilton legacy was secure.

The moment Frederick was born, the life was sucked from his mother—a human sacrifice for his soul crossing into this world. That was what his father told him, at least. Frederick had no memory of clawing his way through the veil between worlds, of being anything other than an ordinary child with a distant father, a young, blonde stepmother, and nannies instead of friends. Until the changes began. Allison (or was it Kayla at the time?) fainted in the living room when he staggered in, screaming as smoke boiled from his skin, begging for help. His father only wrinkled his nose with disgust and calmly explained what he was.

“You must learn to hide this, Frederick. Never let anyone see you this way, or it will destroy the family name.”

And so, he learned the transformation’s schedule. Prepared for it. Knew how to hide it away and never let anyone get close enough to see the real him. But it wasn’t good enough. Try as he might, nothing Frederick ever did met his father’s expectations for the perfect son he had gone through so much trouble to produce.

Frederick grew into a bitter and lonely man with no one to care about, or who cared about him. He kept the world at a distance, hiding his shame behind expensive suits and lavish decoration.

Never once did he consider that he was not alone in this world at all.

 ***

I see him as one of those pitiful things sometimes born in hospitals. They feed it, keep it warm, but they don’t put it on the machines. They let it die. But he doesn’t die. He looks normal. Nobody can tell what he is.

This is how Will Graham describes the Chesapeake Ripper.

Every therapy session with Graham, every conversation overhead, the puzzle became clearer. At first, Chilton merely believed that Dr. Lecter was guilty of unethical practices—manipulating Mr. Graham in the same way he had manipulated Gideon. He felt such kinship with Hannibal. Learning a bit of dirt on him brought the ever-so-superior doctor down to his level, gave him something to lord over him—a little implied blackmail to strengthen their friendship.

They both had secrets to hide.

Dr. Chilton never would have guessed the final puzzle piece to convince him fully that Hannibal was the Chesapeake Ripper would be the one everyone else laughed at.

“I brought you here to bear witness,” Graham said to Gideon through their adjoining cells.

“To tell Jack Crawford that I sat in Hannibal Lecter’s cobalt blue dining room? An ostentatious herb garden, Leda and the Swan over the fireplace. And you, having a fit in the corner.”

Chilton perked up and quickly shared the audio feed to one of the junior therapists assisting him. You were reliable at editing his audio files, clipping and exporting segments he wanted to keep, but he was avoiding you at the moment. This was proof—irrefutable proof that Gideon had met Hannibal Lecter the night he went searching for the Ripper.

After his conversation with Graham concluded, an assistant was sent down to coax more information from him while Chilton’s research team listened in, keenly taking notes.

Gideon was not finished dropping bombshells.

With a casual lilt to his voice as if talking to a friend over dinner, he began to describe the Chesapeake Ripper. Skin like volcanic ash, reflecting no light. A red glow to his eyes. Black claws as long as steak knives. Antlers breaking through the inside of his skull, punching through the skin. All black as night—a form that shifted in the shadows, ever tricking the eye, unwilling to be known.

He’s the Devil, Mr. Graham. He’s smoke.

“Great. Gideon is delusional,” one therapist snorted. “On the bright side, this completely undercuts his malpractice case against you.” She patted Chilton’s shoulder. Chilton flinched.

“We should start him on antipsychotics. What do you think? Doctor?”

Chilton’s face turned ashen white. “Y-yes, certainly,” he muttered, staggering to his feet.

He moved for the door, but crumbled halfway there, pain ripping through his leg as sharp thorns grew beneath the skin. It was daylight. No. No! The transformation should not be starting for hours—he had plenty of time! He gasped out as another shock tore through him, barely containing a cry. His body convulsed.

“Doctor!” A therapist and a guard rushed in to help him to his feet. “Where does it hurt? If this is a complication from your surgery, we need to get you into intensive care right away.”

“No,” he brushed them off. “Only… psychosomatic. I need to— ah!” He gritted his teeth, mind racing to the one person he did not want to turn to, but the only one he could, and barked, “Get my secretary!”

 ***

Smoke was rising off of his burning skin by the time you rushed into Chilton’s vacated office. His eyes were wide with panic, but greeted you when you entered with—not relief, perhaps, because he was every bit as terrified as before, but with the anticipation of being rescued. His eyes pleaded.

“H-help. I cannot make it stop.”

You managed to get him into your car. The sun’s orange rays seemed to chase the beast away, clearing his skin and stopping his wracking convulsions long enough to cross the employee parking lot without drawing stares. He insisted on taking the back seat so he could hide—and to put more distance between you in case he lost control.

His chest rose and fell like a rabbit in a cat’s mouth.

“The way he described Dr. Lecter—anyone would think it was a metaphor! That he was crazy!” Chilton’s breath was raspy as you drove, glancing back at him through the rearview mirror. He kept trembling, small patches of scaly skin appearing at random then swirling back inside. One pupil was a pinprick. His tongue occasionally became serpentine and got in the way as he frantically spoke. “But it was too specific, the details. Familiar. I always knew there was a connection between Dr. Lecter and me—a reason we were friends. It all makes sense now!”

“Hey, it’s OK,” you said, trying to sound soothing, though you had no idea what he was talking about.

“Don’t you understand? Lecter is like me!”

“That’s good, isn’t it? That means you’re not alone.”

“Hannibal Lecter is the Chesapeake Ripper!” he shouted, and a spine tore through a seat cushion. “A cannibal, if Will Graham is to be believed, and loathe as I am to admit it, Graham is an excellent profiler. If the Ripper and I are the same… then that means I—”

“You are nothing like that!” Forgetting the damage his demonic tantrum was doing to your faux-leather interior, you had faith in him. He was a little withdrawn and more than a little vain, and it had garnered him an icy reputation around the hospital, but now you understood why. He wasn’t evil or malicious. He was frightened.

“God help me,” he murmured.

 ***

As soon as the garage door closed behind you, he scrambled from the car (scratching the handle), and retreated inside. He didn’t invite you to follow him home. But he didn’t forbid it, either, and you wanted to be there. All you had were panic-scrambled memories from the first time that made his transformation worse in hindsight than it was. Or maybe better. You didn’t know, and you wouldn’t know until you saw it again with clear eyes.

The electric kettle rumbled on its stand, hissing steam as you searched through Frederick Chilton’s surprisingly extensive tea collection for something herbal and soothing. Chamomile, you thought. With honey. Surely that must be good for demon-monster-werewolf things?

The sun was about to set and he was still reeling over Hannibal, and just as much from the premature transformation the revelation had triggered. And every time he cried, “This is not possible. How can this be possible?” the next convulsion was more intense.

He would probably just burn himself on tea.

A painful whimper came from somewhere in the house, and you followed it to a tiny panic room that opened behind a bookshelf. It was only about seven by nine feet with concrete walls and floors, bare except for deep scratches of varying age, like an animal trying to escape. The few chairs inside were metal. Difficult to break. Frederick faced away from you, staring at a hand that was too large for the rest of his body, capped with long black claws.

“Oh no, this will not do at all,” you tutted, shaking your head at the barren space. “How about I bring in some blankets? Let’s get you comfortable.”

His whole body shook. “You should go.”

“No. No way, not after seeing this prison cell. I am not leaving you like this.”

“I do not want to hurt you.” His shoulder jerked. A spike tore through his shirt.

“You won’t.”

“Seeing it again… will not be therapeutic for you,” he hissed, another spike breaking through. “Go before it is too late.”

“No!”

“Damn it! I am a monster—there is proof of that now! The FBI has no idea what it is dealing with!” Chilton began to pace the small cell, thoughts racing, features morphing into something grotesque and alien. “Does Hannibal know about me? Can he sense it? Is that why he confided in me? I always thought it was professional respect—hah! God, what if he…” A painful convulsion halted his pacing and brought him to one knee, gripping his side. His attention snapped back to you. “This is… dangerous,” he warned, then hacked violently. Fleshy, snake-like projections spewed from his mouth, and he quickly turned away again, hiding his face. “You should… you should be nowhere near all of this! You should not be here! Why did I let you inside?!”

A roar of anguish ripped through the air with enough force to push you back through the panic room door, just in time to avoid being impaled on half a dozen spines as they shot from Chilton’s body like lances. Chips of concrete clattered to the ground as they penetrated the walls. He screamed again, writhing to get free, but found himself trapped by his own violent transformation. Like an animal, he struggled and clawed at himself as if his rational mind had been overtaken by raw, volatile emotion.

“Take it easy. You’re going to hurt yourself,” you tried to calm him, but you couldn’t stop your voice from shaking.

This was worse than last time. You were sure his spines weren’t half as long when you saw him in his office—even Chilton seemed surprised to be pinned.

You lifted your hands, palms toward him in a steadying gesture, and took a step back into the concrete room.

“Stay back!” he howled, thrashing. “Get away!”

It was tempting. Every muscle in your body wanted to follow his advice and run far away from the indescribable horror before you. But his eyes were still green. Were still terrified. And you had an inkling of why it was worse this time. Maybe he would hate you later for imposing, but it seemed more important right now not to leave him feeling… like a monster.

“It’s OK.” You took another step closer.

“No!”

“You’re not going to hurt me. I trust you. Shh, shh… I’m not afraid, see?”

Rigid spines sprayed from his back and shoulders in a 180-degree arc, leaving only his front accessible. You ducked under one and followed its trajectory to where it met the wall. It wasn’t just pinned by pressure—it had struck the wall with enough force to dig into it like an iron rod. Sawing through might be the only option for getting him unstuck. You wondered if that would hurt. Were there nerves in his spines? You stepped over the next one as you drew nearer.

“You should be afraid! I am just like him!” Chilton tried to turn his head away as you traversed his network of thorns and stood in front of him.

His face was almost entirely inhuman. Tentacles cascaded down from where a nose should have been, and when he opened his mouth in a snarl, they parted like wriggling eels—each with a life of its own—to reveal a jaw that split his face open vertically, crowded with rows of sharp white teeth. The more agitated Chilton became, the more dramatic the effect. Each time he spoke, you caught a flash of teeth that sent shivers racing down your spine. But you continued to move closer anyway, within snapping range.

“Hannibal and I… we are the same. Please—I do not want to become him. Do not let me hurt you!”

“You are not the same. You’re not a killer.”

Chilton let out a choking cry that was all too human. “I killed that nurse,” he said. Concrete groaned as his spines grew longer. A crooked horn sprouted from his head. “I killed Elizabeth Shell.”

“You… you didn’t kill her.”

His breath quickened again. Tentacles sprouted and died and resprouted from his face in a constant fevered motion. “I knew Gideon would kill! I lowered security! I knew what would happen—what I needed to happen to prove that he was the Ripper! I may as well have plucked her eyes out with my own hands and… and feasted on her organs. God… I am the Ripper,” he wailed.

“No…” It never occurred to you that Dr. Chilton would have done such a thing knowingly. Maybe there was something dark inside him that this creature was reflecting. It hurt to acknowledge, and yet maybe you both needed to. “You made a mistake. You did a bad thing, but… Gideon was already a killer. It wasn’t your fault.”

“I drove him to it, manipulated him… I am just as responsible as he is. I am a monster.”

“A monster wouldn’t feel this guilty! You made a mistake, but you won’t make it again, will you?”

Tentacles and spines stopped sprouting. His form stabilized as his wet eyes looked off thoughtfully. He seemed so pathetic… so innocent, almost. Despite the intimating spines and claws that added danger and height to his appearance, his body had the same mass—leaving his frame gaunt and frail, with ribs sticking out prominently. Hollow.

You wanted to protect him.

You knew that was your job at BSHCI. You knew that was why Dr. Chilton suddenly needed a personal secretary when he never had before. Someone to sit outside his door, take his calls, and warn him when visitors wanted to see him. You’d never met the doctor before he was attacked by one of his patients, but you recognized the signs of trauma—the way he flinched easily, avoided contact at first, then the way he clung to you when you earned his trust. The awkward little smiles. The way his cheeks turned bright red when his fingers brushed yours as you delivered his coffee. You couldn’t help feeling protective. Falling in love, even.

Though it was closed for the moment, his mouth was a dangerous black hole with alien arms ready to pull prey inside. It seemed impossible to get close without being dragged into its teeth by instinct. You couldn’t imagine putting your face anywhere near it.

Another step, and your forehead touched his.

“I... I do not want to hurt you,” he pleaded.

“You won’t.”

You leaned into his arms, a hand reaching up to stroke the side of his face. It was covered in fine scales that glistened as if they should be slimy, but were smooth to the touch, like a snake. Sharper thorns sprouting from his skin seemed to retreat before your caress.

He trembled with inner turmoil, hot breath puffing against your chin. Your eyes darted toward the motion of one of his claws rising behind you, and all you could focus on were the way each sharp talon caught the light. You couldn’t be sure what he was thinking—if he was going to return your embrace, or prove to you that he was a monster. Would he slash you just to drive you away?

“I smell your fear,” his voice hissed accusingly.

For some reason, of all the reactions you could have had, you started to laugh. It was nervous and tight at first, but then building in confidence at the ridiculousness of the situation.

“You’ve got giant claws! Of course I’m afraid! But I’m not running, am I?”

You slid your hand from his cheek and trailed it over his bony neck and the ridges and spines of his shoulders, finding a path for your arms to twine around him. Cuddling closer, you nuzzled into the crook of his neck, hardly bothered by the writhing tentacles that draped down over you.

“I know you would never hurt me. You’re just going to have to keep showing me there’s nothing to be afraid of.”

Shuddering, he breathed in your scent. All his senses were heightened by this form, and he was surrounded by you—your pheromones, your electric field, the radiant heat of your skin. It was like sinking into a warm bath with a glass of fine wine in his hand. He opened his palm and let his predator’s hand sweep harmlessly down your back, holding you close. He could sense the fluttering of your heart in his embrace. It was slower than a creature in terror—slowing the longer he held you. You were not afraid. And he could not imagine hurting you. Whatever he had been worried might happen, whatever awful things he might be capable of, he could never imagine hurting you. You were right. You didn’t have anything to fear.

He exhaled a long, steady breath of surrender. The long spines retracted, pulling out of the walls as they returned to their usual size. He could move again, but didn’t. Not for a long time.

“It’s OK. It’s OK,” you sighed. The scent of your hair was intoxicating.

Eventually, you had to part. Chilton’s eyes darted away as you did—the inky scales on his face emitted a soft bluish starlight, which you were certain was blushing. You could not coax him to leave his concrete prison cell, but he told you where to find some blankets he could live with damaging—linen closet, second floor, third door on the right—and let you make a cozy nest on the bare floors. You made tea, and only cringed a little at his attempts to drink it. It was late, then. You were sleepy, and he was exhausted. Emotionally drained. His mind still raced over everything, still not certain of your presence and inexplicable kindness. You sat in the pile of blankets and had him rest his head in your lap.

“Give me your hand,” you asked, extending yours.

A clawed, scaly hand slid tentatively along the floor. You took it. Held it gently, first observing the long talons protruding like daggers from each finger before slotting yours between them—nothing sharp there. You let out a long sigh and leaned back against the concrete wall. His breath hitched.

He’d never had his hand held in this form, you assumed.

He’d never had his hand held at all, in fact. Not in many years.

It had to be a trap, he thought. No one had ever loved him before. No one could—not like this. Yet, as he fell asleep to your fingers massaging his temple and the soft murmuring of your voice, he let himself believe it. You were always there, protecting him. Smiling at him in the morning.

When you woke up, Frederick was human again, still fast asleep in your arms.

[masterthespianduchovny]

Let’s take age off the table, I know shocker for me, the other thing that bothers me about this development isn’t that it can’t develop into something serious without major sacrifices happening if they stay together.

And that doesn’t it right with me.

Society loves romanticizing that “if it’s true love, a sacrifice doesn’t feel like a sacrifice.”

Girls are especially conditioned with this belief. On average, girls and women give up far more for love and a relationship and a significant amount gross to resent this in some capacity. They have to tell themselves that their relationships and kids made the sacrifice all worth it. And can’t express regret at the road not taken.

It’s why the saying, “you can’t have it all” is mainly directed at women and almost never men. Because, in comparison to women, men tend to have it all. Men are less likely to give up careers or take a step back in the name of love. And, when they do, they typically have more opportunities for them than women.

And the same goes for people of color. Their is rampant racism and hiring discrimination, so Black people have to move more carefully professionally.

Which brings up to the Sam and Rebecca storyline.

Both of them love and are invested in their careers. Their relationship jeopardizes either or one both of their professional goals and desires.

The idea that they can and will get over this because “love” is so dangerous because this relationship had massive red flags and was problematic from the word go and they both knew and know that. It’s not like they dated without personal attachment, and then a professional opportunity presented itself.

No, they voluntarily entered into a relationship that can only end in disaster.

If they stayed together and went public, there is no way in hell Sam could stay on the team.

Which means Sam would be the first one to take a professional hit. Sure he could go to a new team, but we wouldn’t know where that would be, if he would have to be traded/loaned, and if where he went would even be beneficial for him as a player. There is also his rejection taking a hit, because even tho they will pat him on the ass, his professional cred will have taken a massive hit.

And, for real, what owners do you think will be okay with a professional player having that kind of access and intimacy with another owner?

Sam’s professional development would also take a hit. Remember how Sam was struggling with Richmond at first, until Ted problem solved why that was? Remember how his stats was taking a hit? Remember how ted constantly advocated for Sam as a player and utilized him in a way that was appropriate for him and, in turn, his confidence not only returned and flourished under Ted.

And we saw how Jamie reacted when his loan was terminated. We saw the difference of play and what it did for his confidence training under ted v not.

I’m not saying Sam needs ted and can’t succeed without him, however, coaching arent a one size for all. Some coaches work better for some than they do for others. Some players need certain types of coaches and only respond to one specific coach.

Sam’s development is threatened by not only losing a coach, but having to play for a new team, learn a new system, and make bonds with new players. It may not seem like it, but switching teams, esp when don’t want to, is hard on players.

Sam would be voluntarily setting back his career to be with Rebecca, which may harm him in the long run.

With Rebecca, most have noted that she’s been treated like shit in the media and, in this case, it would be rightfully so. We shouldn’t be arguing that just because Rupert’s gets a pass, Rebecca should too. We should be arguing that Rupert needs to be criticized just as much if not more for what he did. Professionally speaking, Rebecca actually deserves far more criticism than Rupert. He just ran a mediocre club, she’s unintentionally undermining it by dating a player, which reeks of massive irresponsibility on her end.

Some have argued that since Sam and Rebecca have great chemistry and this could be something great, maybe Rebecca should sell her club.

Fucking, excuse me?

Regardless of how Rebecca originally felt towards the club, she has grown to love it and has a deep attachment. She even takes genuine pride at her ownership and trying to get them to succeed.

Some are really saying that a woman should sell her club to be with a man she shouldn’t have gotten involved with to begin with? Like, I’m hearing that correctly??? (Yes, this has been said.)

So in a profession where women rarely own clubs and a professional she enjoys, is a because she should give up for love?

And if this relationship doesn’t work out, which it most likely won’t, them making these massive sacrifices won’t be “no big deal, I’m glad I took the risk.”

It would be, “what was I thinking selling my club/fucking over my career?”

Rebecca’s media problem wouldn’t go away with her selling the club, she’d still be dating a footballer and mags would still write about her. This is a fucking juicy story. It would take years before this wouldn’t be in constant rotation. Even if they both went away, this story wouldn’t die and would hang over AFC Richmond like a dark cloud.

Love isn’t going to make Rebecca stop caring about what the media says about her, esp if they’re right in their criticisms this time around. That criticism practically ate her alive. She’s going to feel like the monster she thought she was in season 1.

Especially since this is going to be way worse and more frequent.

And do you imagine that she keeps her relationship with Keeley or Higgins? Do you think she doesn’t become a pariah?

So a woman who already went through a humiliating and public divorce, then gets into a relationship that increases attacks and criticisms on her ten fold, and she sells her club to be with this dude (hypothetically, of course), do y’all think Rebecca doesn’t feel even more isolated and lonely? Do y’all think that Sam’s love is enough to compensate the massive loses she’s taken? That nothing else matters because she has him?

Some want to pretend like it’s no big deal, but either they don’t understand the implications or they think just because it’s fiction it doesn’t matter, but it does. It does matter what they’re saying and what they’re not saying. Because if it’s fiction and doesn’t matter, why complain about how raze is being portrayed as well as gender?

Age can’t be treated as unimportant because it’s a fictional pairing, yet racism and sexism doesn’t. That’s called inconsistency and cognitive dissonance. Either all of these things matter or none of them do and, yes, in this case it is all or nothing.

I’ve explained enough why this age difference matters and to pretend it means nothing because “he’s an adult.” Like man, young adults are truly fucked if older people feel this way. If older people feel their responsibility and obligation for protecting younger people stops at 18.

And, perhaps, this explains why people don’t understand the other complexities and nuances of what this relationship is fucked up. Or why they’re downplaying it.

As someone once said, “all art is political.” This and these discussions are a politic of sorts and so many people are missing the mark, yet are only advocating and having nuances discussions on this topic advocate for a problematic and detrimental relationship.

[im-just-a-random-fandom-girl]

trying to articulate my frustrations with Marvel’s treatment of female characters and characters of color

Hi, hello, hola, bonjour. I've been having a lot of thoughts about Marvel’s lack of diversity and of how they treat minority characters, so I'm taking a page out of Luisa’s (@its-tortle) book and just making a long, rambley post to get it all out.

Please bear with me while I try to encapsulate all of my frustration within the limitations of English language.

(ALSO, I'm white. I’m Spanish-American, but I do not have the ability to speak for fans of color and the other grievances they have. This post is just a combination of my own thoughts and what I've heard other people say on Tumblr, in YouTube videos, in articles etc.)

Now that we've had over week to collect ourselves after the WandaVision finale, because it was such a tearjerker and the end of a true masterpiece of a show, we really need to talk about how Marvel treats their their characters of color and female characters. I'll specifically be looking at Sam Wilson, Natasha Romanoff, and Monica Rambeau.

Let's start with Sam.

Until Monica Rambeau became Photon just a few weeks ago in WandaVision, Sam was THE ONLY Black superhero in the MCU.

He first appeared in Captain America: The Winter Soldier 7 years ago in 2014, and he's been in 4 movies since then (not counting the post-credits of Ant-Man).

Let's see what we know about Sam in the MCU:

He was a pararescue airman in the U.S. Airforce

His wing-man, Riley, died in combat, prompting him to leave active duty

He works at the VA to help other veterans adjust to civilian life

That's it. This is all we know about his backstory, separate from Captain America. However, the MCU decided to include these parts of his backstory, (and exclude others) because they make him a better supporting character to Steve.

Sam's a vet - so is Steve. They have the same, early-morning run routine that alludes to strict military training. Steve is still new to the future and hardly knows or approaches anyone, but Sam is wearing his VA sweatshirt, so there's some sense of connection, one that is furthered when they talk about their beds being too soft. Sam is someone who can understand him, aside from being a super soldier.

Riley, Sam's wingman, died in combat - Hmm, haven't heard that one befo - oh, wait. *Bucky waves from the abyss of the Alps*. Yeah.

I'm not saying that these connections are bad, in fact, I think the opposite. In terms of storyline, these connections are incredibly important for their friendship. Steve is lost and alone in the future. No one he knows cares about him for any reason other than the fact that he's a super soldier, nor can he relate to any of those people on any level. Sam just fits. He's funny and kind and although they are 60 years apart in age, he can, to some extent, understand what Steve is going through in a way they no one else can.

But for the last 7 years in the MCU, all he's been is Steve's supportive friend.

Almost immediately after meeting Steve, Sam is dragged into an end-of-the-world battle. He readily agrees to put his life on the line to fight by Captain America's side. After SHIELD falls, Sam gives up his life for 2 years to help Steve find Bucky. When they find him, Sam, without a second thought, becomes an international fugitive to protect Bucky and Steve.

I mean, he practically says that he lives in Steve's shadow himself: 

"Don't look at me. I do what he does, just slower."

Who does all this? Seriously? Sam is also a recovering vet. He, in theory, has a life, a family, a job, his own mental well-being to consider, but he immediately gives it all up to help Captain America, to follow in his shadow, to be his back-up and support in every battle. Marvel wrote him as a 2D character that lacks his own identity and agency.

Sam deserves his own storyline; he deserves to exist outside the orbit of Steve Rogers.

What Mackie has been able to do with the character is astounding. He took Sam off the page and truly brought him to life, turning him into a beloved character. I'm ecstatic that both Mackie and Sam finally (hopefully) get their time to shine in TFATWS, but it should have happened WAY sooner. Marvel has continuously overlooked Mackie, despite how much he brings to the movies and despite the significance of Sam as the only Black superhero. It's just so clear that they do not care about representation.

(And let's not start with the whole "Bucky should be Captain America" thing, thanks)

Next, let's talk about Natasha.

Nat has been in the MCU for 11 years, starting with Iron Man 2 in 2010. She was heavily featured in an additional 6 MCU movies (not including small cameos/post-credit sequences). She's one of the few female superheroes in the MCU, and the only one that's been there since the beginning. Nat was the only female superhero for 4 years until Gamora appeared in Guardians of the Galaxy.

Let's see what we know about Natasha's history:

She's a former KGB operative and assassin, trained in the Red Room project

When she was a part of the Red Room, she was sterilized

Clint Barton got her out of the Red Room and converted her to a SHIELD agent

THAT'S IT. The second point is actually nauseating because this is what she says to Banner when we learn about her infertility in Age of Ultron:

"They sterilize you. It’s efficient. One less thing to worry about, the one thing that might matter more than a mission. It makes everything easier — even killing. You still think you’re the only monster on the team?"

Like, actually, what the fuck? I remember watching this scene and having to rewind because I thought I mis-heard what she said. In truth, Natasha is probably referring to the terrible things she was forced to do as a KGB operative are what make her a "monster," but why in the world would they include this anecdote here?? It's just so distasteful and disgusting! It makes it seem like her infertility is what makes her a monster, perpetuating the misogynistic belief that the center of a woman's identity and purpose is to have children.

As Vox says in this article, the subject of Nat's infertility 

"rears its head sub-textually when Black Widow sacrifices herself for the Soul Stone. [...] It’s reasonable for Natasha to make the calculation that Clint’s kids deserve to have a dad when they come back to life after the Avengers complete their “time heist.” But because of that Ultron plot, there’s also an insidious implication that Natasha’s infertility renders Black Widow just a little bit more disposable than the rest of her teammates."

Furthermore, Nat's death in Endgame serves for nothing more than motivation for the other characters working in the time heist, WHICH ARE ALL MALE. Even then, the other characters talk about her death briefly (in a mostly unaffected manner), and by the end of the movie, she's been pretty much forgotten about,  completely overshadowed by Tony Stark.

I don't want to say that Nat shouldn't have died in Endgame. It caused me so much heartache and emotional pain, but I truly believe it was a great way to end her arc. CinemaWins on YouTube put it best:

"She needed to save her family, Clint included, finally wiping the red from her ledger. So much of her jouney in the MCU was trying to find her purpose, figure out which side she was on, and she finally feels like she's found it, just in time to die for it. 

"It's not wrong to feel cheated by her death, [but I think] she deserved this moment because of it's importance."

She says it in the movie: 

"I used to have nothing, and then I got this. This family. And I was better because of it."

Nat shouldn't have to die, but it's on her terms, and she is absolutely ready for it. Saving her chosen family... that is her purpose.

But altogether, over the course of the MCU, Natasha was cheated out of getting the storyline she deserved. Like Sam, she was relegated to the position of the supportive friend of Steve, but also of Bruce and Clint. For the audience, her identity is tied to this role that she plays. The identity and motivations she has independent from these other characters, her history, is skimmed over, and treated with immense disrespect.

It took 11 years, but it is thrilling that Scarlett Johansson finally gets to be the start of her own Marvel movie. There is no way that Black Widow will be able to completely make up for her and Natasha's mistreatment by the MCU, but I hope it will at least bring us some closure and allow us to have a better understanding of Nat's history and who she is away from the other Avengers.

Last, but certainly not least (despite what WandaVision may have you believe) is Monica Rambeau.

I spoke about this last week after posting about this review of the show, but it bears repeating.

Monica is a new character. You'd hope that, after 11 years of extremely limited diversity in the MCU, much to the dismay of fans worldwide, and after recognizing this and creating a movie with a cast like The Eternals, Marvel would try to get their shit together across the board.

Nope!

Monica was seriously the token diversity character of the show. It seemed like they would give her more depth after the episode during which they flashed back to the her during and after the snap, losing her mother, and seeing a little bit of what she's done as an adult since Captain Marvel, but that ended up being the most we got.

But why? Monica literally became a SUPERHERO. She became Photon! She deserved a much greater role in the show, especially in the finale, where she instead had maybe 5 lines and just stopped some bullets for about 30 seconds.

As the review I linked says, 

“There are so many black writers, fans, and critics noting how Monica got relegated to a complete lack relegated to meaningless best friend protector lacking in their own self agency and story except for making a shoehorned comparison of grief.”

Marvel made the same, bull-headed mistake that they made with Sam with Monica!

Let's do this again. Monica was snapped away for 5 years, and when she was snapped back, she learned that her mother had died. Losing someone you love and having the whole process of mourning and pain be complicated by the snap? What an interesti- oh wait. *Vision phases his head through the wall with a smile*

The only reason we got this backstory was because it made her a more sympathetic character towards Wanda. Her understanding of what Wanda is going through allows her to be the catalyst in the creation of the ideological fork in the road between herself, Darcy and Woo, who see Wanda as a victim of grief and loss, and Hayward and the rest of SHIELD, who see her as a dangerous threat.

How do you make the same, major mistake that you've been making for the past 7 years again? Guess what? You don't! Maybe it's not intentional, but Marvel, again, clearly doesn’t care enough about their characters of color to consider the roles they relegate them to in the MCU, realize what they've been doing is harmful, and then change it.

Hopefully, they will not continue to treat Monica this way and will remedy this in the next Captain Marvel.

In conclusion: MARVEL GAVE A FUCKING ROBOT AN ACTUAL ORIGIN STORY, A RELATIONSHIP AND MORE INDEPENDENCE THAN ALL OF THESE CHARACTERS.

But in all seriousness, Marvel needs to be help accountable for how they treat women and their characters of color in the MCU. I just looked at 3, but you could also make a similar argument about Rhodey, Hope van Dyne and Valkyrie, as well as Jane Foster, MJ, and Ned, although they are supporting characters and not superheroes. And I'm sure there are many others. Marvel (and Disney!!) has had an awful track-record, and change is long overdue.

[omnivorousshipper]

Request Friday: I think you’ve done similar stories but my mind was thinking arranged marriage + Pirate King Luke with a glorious beard. Maybe Mama Shaw wants to smuggle her goods via the pirate king’s fleet and to broker a relationship between them she offers her eldest?

I’ve just got the mental image of Luke dripping in gold and jewels, sitting fiercely on his throne cutting quite the figure when Deckard is escorted into the room to help sway negotiations and Luke is captivated—wants nothing more than to wrap him in silks and jewels, spoil him utterly rotten. Owen isn’t happy about their mum’s plans for Deck but is distracted by Pirate Captain Roman (I’m sure an absurd nickname)!cutting quite the figure.

Hattie decked out in swashbuckling gear, threatening idiots with her sword/daggers/gun when they try to hit on her. (A deadlier Elizabeth Swan)

I LOVE EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS FRIEND!

I have such a weak spot for Luke beard, especially when it's salt and pepper. And omg, Deckard given up as a sacrifice is hilarious

And Hattie as Elizabeth Swan??? SIGN ME THE FUCK UP

~~~

Looking over several papers, Queenie Shaw narrowed her eyes at them. The numbers weren't adding up to what she had been hoping for

She would have to go with her backup plan

Sighing, she waved on of her servants out front the corner she had been quietly embroidering in. The woman lifted her skirts in a curtsey as she bowed

"Please bring my daughter to me." Queenie said in a clipped tone

"Right away, madam." The woman scurried out of the room, barely making any noise

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Queenie knew what she need to do, but it all relied on what she could convince of her children

Glancing out of the large windows, Queenie could hear the laughter of the servants' children. Looking at the clock, Queenie knew it was the normal time Deckard would sit them down for a lesson

She never really understood his want to teach them how to read. Even their parents didn't know

After a few minutes of listening to the soft murmur of voices outside in the gardens, the door to her office finally opened to reveal the servant gesturing Hattie inside

Queenie couldn't help the prideful smile that spread across her face as she took her daughter in

Hattie looked like a right pirate

"Something the matter, mum?" She asked, throwing herself into a seat and leaning back provocatively. Any other lady would have yelled at her scandalous behavior. Queenie simply raised an eyebrow

"I wanted your opinion on a matter." Queenie said slowly. "What are your thoughts on the pirate king?"

"Hobbs?"

"Yes."

"He's an alright bastard." Hattie said thoughtfully. "Looks after his people and keeps them in line when need be. He's cutthroat but fair. Why are you asking about him?"

"Because I want to strike up a deal with him."

"What kind of deal?" Hattie asked slowly, eyed narrowed in suspicion

"Trade has been going down recently. Too many imperial arseholes sticking their noses in my trade routes recently, causing them to dry up. I need new routes and the only ones I can find are through Hobbs' territory."

"Thats a lot of risk for him to take, he won't do that for cheap." Hattie looked over her mother carefully. "What are you planning on giving him? He'll need more than money."

"I know." Queenie nodded. Leaning back, she crossed her arms and fixed her daughter with a careful look

"What?"

"Hobbs is a widower, correct?"

"Yes? Mum, if you think I would ever-"

"Not you." Queenie cut her off quickly with a sharp gesture. "Deckard."

"Mum!" Hattie yelped. "You can't just sell him like some kind of mare!"

"I'm not!" Queenie hissed

"Then what are you doing?" Hattie snapped. "Because if you think Hobbs will let him leave, you're dead wrong! Pirates are selfish mum!"

"I'm assuming you know from experience?" Queenie drawled, purposely looking her daughter up and down

"Yes." Hattie met her eyes and glared. "Yoi are not shoving my brother into some arranged marriage."

Queenie met her gaze evenly

"And what if I told you that if we don't get those trade routes, all that I have built will crumb?"

"What?" Hattie blinked at her

Queenie didn't look happy to reveal what she said next

"We need to keep our illegal dealings going, but the empire and the king's men have started to notice. If they do, they'll come after our whole family. I can't let that happen, Hatts."

"But, Deck-"

"Can slit Hobbs' throat in a few years if it comes to that."

Hattie's face twisted in discomfort

"I don't want to send him into that, mum."

"I know dear." Queenie sighed. "And that's why I want you and Oh to escort Deckard there yourselves."

Hattie looked out the window, where Queenie had been looking out earlier

"Think we could convince Deck to wear his favorite dress to meet Hobbs?"

"Doubtful. He only wears them in our presence." Queenie chuckled, but felt her heart clench

Their family's business might thrive, but would her son?

---

Sitting on his throne, Luke played with a gold coin as he listened to the squabbles of lower ranked pirates. Head rested in his other hand, Luke couldn't wait for the pirate court to be called to a stop

Just another reason he wished Jonah had become the pirate king. Luke would rather he be the one sailing across the seas every day with his crew and daughter

But no, he was trapped helping other pirates deal with their own shit

Deciding to just take one pirate's side for no particular reason, Luke was interrupted by a party of three people walking into the hall

Luke peered at them closely

He only really recognized one of them

Hattie Shaw was one of the cruelest and efficient pirates Luke has seen in over a decade. She ran a tight ship and was fear by every sailor that came across her. Too bad she still held ties to her family, or else Luke would have asked her to join his fleet a long time ago

Standing next to her were two men. Neither really screamed pirate like Hattie did, instead they were in plain clothes. But it didn't hide the weapons on the taller man, who was practically hovering over the smaller man protective

But it was that smaller man Luke couldn't take his eyes off

He was absolutely gorgeous

The candlelight seemed to soften his harsh expression and enhanced how sharp his cheekbones were. He held himself with a sense of dignity, even when wearing a plain white shirt and black trousers

No. The man deserved to be covered in gold and jewels. He should be wrapped in the finest silk and laid on the softest sheets

Luke mentally went through the many pieces of stolen jewelry he had that he could drape over the man. He had a large diamond necklace, almost collar like, that would suit the man perfectly

Lost to his fantasies, Luke felt someone poke his shoulder. Looking up, Luke sheepishly met the harsh glare Letty was sending him

"What's your decree, King Luke?" She said through clenched teeth. Luke had a feeling she'd been trying to get his attention for a while

"You." Luke pointed at random between the two feuding pirates. "You were in the right. Whatever it is, you get it."

With a wave of his hand, Luke dismissed them and didn't care if he had been right or not

"You three!" Luke called out, staring at Hattie and the two men. "Come forward and speak your piece."

Luke could hear the irritated hiss Letty let out. Probably upset that he let people cut the line

Too bad, he was a pirate and would do what he wanted

With her chin held high, Hattie led the two men towards them. As they enter more of the candlelight, Luke couldn't keep his eyes off the smaller man

If it was possible, he looked even more attractive closer up

Luke already knew which golden bracelets would adorn the man's arms

"What brings you here, Shaw?" Luke asked curiously. "Usually you don't need anything from me."

"Not usually, no." Hattie said, her face serious. "But, my mother has a proposal for you."

"Go on."

"You allow her transport ships through your waters."

"And for me?"

"My brother's hand in marriage."

Luke sat up eagerly

And felt like the luckiest man on earth when the smaller man pushed past the other man and closer to Luke

He held his head up as he met Luke's eyes in a challenge

Luke smiled, showing all of his teeth

"I accept."

---

The words seemed to ring out in the large hall

And echoed inside of Deckard's head, making his ears ring

What?

With wide eyes, Deckard stared up at the pirate king who simply leaned back into his throne

He didn't want to admit it, but the image had Deckard salivating

Luke Hobbs was a large man with muscles bigger than Deckard's head, and they shown beautifully in the candlelight, along with the gold that hung off his body

His powerful arms were free of cloth and had gold arm bands with blue rocks embedded in them. Deckard couldn't help but stare at the sight

"You may wait in my chambers while I discuss the details with your sister." Hobbs told him, breaking Deckard out of his staring

Blinking, Deckard wanted to glare at the man for dismissing him so easily, but he held his tongue

Especially when he saw the heated look the king was sending him

Deckard felt himself blush heavily. It was as if the man was undressing him simply by staring at him

A woman broke away from the crowd watching the proceedings

"I'll take him there, Luke." She said, bowing her head slightly

"Thank you, Ramsey."

Looking over at the woman, Deckard found himself relaxing slightly at her smile

Maybe being married off to a pirate wouldn't be the worst thing in the world

---

Owen frowned as he watched Deckard be escorted away from them. He wanted to follow after them, but the firm grip Hattie had on his arm told him not to

Grinding his teeth, Owen stayed put as Hattie dragged them towards a corner of the hall

Hobbs would discuss their contract further once he was done with the court

"I don't like this. It shouldn't be this easy." Owen hissed

"Maybe it can be." Hattie whispered back. "Now quiet."

Leaning against the wall, Owen watched the court carefully to gain any information

And soon found his attention on one pirate specifically

And can you really blame him, when the pirate's name was Roman 'Barnacle Whisperer' Pearce?

That was a story Owen wanted to get his hands on. And maybe the man himself

---

Stepping into a huge, lavish room, Deckard swallowed thickly. Was this really where Hobbs slept? Even Deckard's rooms at home weren't this big!

He heard the door close as Ramsey left him alone to admire everything. Sitting on a lavish couch, Deckard took a deep breath

No doubt in a few days Deckard would be married to the man who owned all this

It was a little overwhelming

Lost in thought, Deckard jumped when he heard the door open again. And revealed a small girl

Deckard met her curious gaze

"Who are you?" She asked

"Deckard."

"Are you a friend of my dad?"

"Kind of." Deckard coughed. He could only assume she meant Hobbs

"What're you doing here?"

"Waiting for him."

"Want to wait together?"

"I'd love the company." Deckard smile and was pleased to see the girl smile back. "And what's your name?"

"Sam." She skipped over to him and looked him over. "You look really plain."

Deckard blinked at her. And looked over the jewels and gold she was wearing. Definitely Hobbs' daughter

"Dad wouldn't mind if you wore a few things of his." Sam smiled at him and grabbed his hand. "Come on."

Frowning, Deckard let Sam pull him further into the rooms

---

Entering his chambers, Luke let out a sigh

He hated haggling deals. Especially when it came to two overly protective siblings. At least Owen Shaw had been distracted by Roman

Looking around the front room, Luke frowned. Where was the third Shaw, Deckard?

For a moment, Luke was scared Ramsey had taken him for herself. But as he listened closely, he could hear laughter from his bedroom

Quietly walking towards the room, Luke could hear Sam's voice

"You look so pretty!"

"Thank you, as do you." A man's voice responded

Luke could clearly hear the joy in both of their voices. Poking his head into the room, Luke felt his heart skip a beat

Sam was kneeling on a chair as she rummaged through his chest of jewels, while Deckard Shaw stood next to her and allowed her to dress him any jewelry she didn't wear herself

Luke's eyes immediately zeroed in on the diamond collar around Deckard's neck

Looked like Sam had had the same idea

Deckard Shaw would be theirs

Leaning against the doorway, Luke stayed quiet as he watched his future husband and daughter

~~~

I hope you enjoyed friend!!

[purple-possibilities]

Like Father, Like Son

Rating: Teen

Warnings: mentions of death, mentions of prostitution, like slightly dark? Gritty maybe is a better descriptor, Naruto world taken seriously.

Length: 1888 words

Pairing: MinaKushi, Minato’s Canonical Dad x Minato’s Canonical Mom

Genre: romance, drama, slight angst (we know how these two ended up), crack taken seriously

Summary: the story of Minato’s parents, and how that influenced Minato’s decisions, and his courtship of Kushina. Inspired by this post about Minato being extra.

Like many children in ninja villages—and truly, just children in general, since the Warring States Era and the formation of the Ninja Villages—Namikaze Minato is an orphan. His father was a self-taught ninja from a small village on the boarder of Kaze no Kuni, while his mother was a kunoichi from Tsuchi.

Though Minato's parents had died when he was young, he was old enough to remember them. He was old enough to understand why his parents were forced to hide away from their home countries, old enough to know when and why he had to hide and lie.

He was old enough to understand why tousan had to escape in the night while he and kaachan had to flee in the cover of tousan's sacrifice distraction.

He was old enough to understand why he and kaachan had to lie about their ninja training when they immigrated into Konoha with forged papers so realistic that not even Konoha's infamous T&I, or their renowned Yamanaka clan could tell the difference.

He was old enough to understand why kaachan was forced to work in the way she did, why strange people would spend an hour or two, or sometimes even the whole night behind the door to his mother's room, why she made him leave when some specific visitors stopped by, why he eventually came home to find her laying in bed, blooms of red and shocks of shiny white against her cold, still skin.

He was old enough to remember it all—to want to change it all, one day—but his mind would always take him back to one specific memory.

His most precious memory of all.

The love in his parents' eyes.

Minato could recite the story word for word, with how much his kaachan told it—how much more she would cling to the words after tousan was gone.

Kaachan was from Iwagakure, having sworn her life to the Tsuchikage and the Tsuchi no Kuni daimyou as a kunoichi of the Rock. Touchan truly had no allegiance—his skills had come from a talent with chakra and a necessity for self-defense.

So when touchan had seen a group of Suna-nin abducting a woman, he did what any good man would do.

He saved her.

Touchan had followed after the Suna-nin in secret, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Touchan was not sure he could defeat the two Suna-nin on his own, but he knew that with the help of the right environment and a few tricks, he could come out victorious.

With his wind chakra aiding him in both speed and his strikes, touchan caught the first nin completely off guard. As the second nin—the one holding kaachan—noticed his partner listing to the right—before the dead body could hit the ground—touchan had just as swiftly eliminated the other, catching kaachan in his arms.

Unwilling to linger at the scene, touchan carried kaachan away, until it was safe for them to stop. When touchan untied kaachan's binds, she couldn't help herself.

Kaachan pulled touchan into a kiss.

It was in that moment that kaachan fell in love with touchan. Both were alone in this cruel ninja world. The shinobi nations were in the midst of the second Great Ninja War. People were dying left and right, hundreds every day.

Who would miss one kunoichi? Who would recognise one self-taught man from the edges of Kaze no Kuni?

Who would give up on the chance of happiness, love, and family, when the world had taken so much from them?

He remembers asking his parents how they knew they were in love after just one meeting.

His mother always answered, “A selfless act of kindness in a cruel world is a rare thing to be treasured. When you find that, especially when you're alone and hopeless, it's easier to leave behind the entirety of your harsh, unfriendly life for even just a single moment with such a person."

When Minato asked his touchan, his father always answered, "There is not much kindness in this world, not much any single person alone can do to fix that. We work hard, we may try to help others, but that's not going to get any one man very far. Kaachan has a fire in her, a toughness, a resilliance which cannot be crushed. She is fierce in her mind, body, and soul. As a man forced to grow and survive on his own, I know just how valuable, and how rare those traits are. I had desperately craved for companionship, for a family, and your mother has the strength and resilliance to ensure our story will be longer than most."

At the time, Minato didn't truly understand what either of his parents meant. But as an orphan, as a boy all alone, who had witnessed the worst of the world and wanted to make it better, who had his world stripped from him in a place that should have been safe, with the weight of his parents sacrifices on his mind and the desperate urge for a family once more...

Minato fell in love.

All he knew about love was what he'd seen from his parents. With no advice, no one to turn to, Minato did the only thing he could:

He emulated the fond, much told memory of how his parents fell in love with the percotions, strong-willed, resilliant Uzumaki Kushina.

And like a blessing from beyond, like a gift from his absent parents, Uzumaki Kushina—who had only ever glared and grumbled at Minato before then—had fallen in love with him.

It hadn't been hard to use the shadow-clone jutsu and then henge them into Kumo-nin. It wasn't hard to find Kushina all alone, after tricking the ANBU who followed her with a genjutsu laid out by Uchiha Fugaku's sharingan.

It wasn't hard for Minato to gently disable (but not disperse!) his own clones, to catch Kushina in his arms, to take her to "safety" (as if she were in any danger at all).

It wasn't hard to attract her heart and capture it—not with his boyish good looks, his patience, and most damning of all—

Kushina's lonliness and desire for connection.

With her home village destroyed and Mito-sama recently deceased, there wasn't a better time for him to put his ploy in motion. Maybe to a civilian that might seem callous, but to a ninja, that was just smart planning.

What did it matter if he was using her grief and loneliness to his advantage? His company would heal that for her anyways.

(Besides, it was his grief and lonliness which drove him to do it).

Minato would grow up to be a lot of things: a hero and a curse, a soldier and a leader, a husband and—just briefly—a father.

Minato would not go on to share the story of how he got Kushina to love him with his son. Minato would instead go on to emulate his father, sacrificing himself in the hopes of giving his child a shot at a better life.

But that was for later. In this moment, in the shoddy comfort of the bachelor apartment allotted to orphaned ninja-in-training, Minato put the pieces of his plan together.

Minato was old enough to retain memories of his life before Konoha, before his parents were taken from him, but only one memory stood out.

And so he remembered.

And so he took the past and made it his present with dreams of the future on his mind.

Fun Facts!

I imagine Minato's mom to be blonde like he, Naruto, and Deidara are, while his dad has red hair similar to Kushina and Gaara. His mother's hair was smooth and straight while his father's was spikes like Minato and Naruto.

The ninja who killed Minato's father were sent after his mother for desertion. Another Iwa-nin had caught sight of her and reported back to the Tsuchikage. The nin were sent to kill Minato's parents but were instructed to bring Minato back alive in case he was useful. I kind of puts Minato's massacre of those thousand Iwa-nin during the Third War into a new light...

Fugaku only agreed to help Minato because when he initially refused, Minato accused Fugaku of not being able to do it. Fugaku, like a certain other Uchiha we know, was desperate to prove himself. Minato didn't tell Fugaku about his plan, he just dared Fugaku to trick the ANBU.

Minato had to practice with his clones for weeks to be able to fight them without them "popping." He ended up having to use a seal on them to make them more resilliant. It was his first time working with fuinjutsu, and what sparked his love for it. Kushina's interest only heightened his own.

Yes, Minato's dad only went along with kaachan's feelings because he was lonely and she was strong. Relationships have been built on less. He was a very pragmatic man. He did genuinely fall in love with her though.

When Minato and his mom immigrated to Konoha, she had to pretend to be a civilian with no ninja training to avoid suspicion, and be offered asylum as a Hi no Kuni refugee. As a foreigner (even one posing as a Fire Country citizen) and with the growing number of refugees, it was hard for her to find a job, so she became a prostitute. She was killed by a nin who was triggered and experienced a panic attack/flashback. He fled the scene after, and ended up letting himself get killed during his next mission. The case of her murder remains unsolved—not that the police did much investigating. There were more pressing issues to deal with at the time.

The harsh life Minato lived—as a fugitive and then a refugee and orphan—is what led him to want to be Hokage. He wanted to save people from the pain he and his parents suffered.

Kushina's spirit (and declaration to be Hokage) is what attracted Minato to her. His father's words of finding someone strong and stubborn enough to survive in this cruel ninja world is what made him decide she was the one for him.

Kushina is dumb. So dumb. Didn't catch on even once. Fell for the plot hook, line, and sinker. Even when, years later, Minato shared the story of how his parents met with her, Kushina did not piece his plan together.

Due to Minato using "Kumo"-nin to carry out the abduction, he made their already poor reputation in Konoha worse. This was further exasterbated when real Kumo-nin actually tried to kidnap Hinata.

Minato sacrafied himself that night when Kurama was unleashed on the village, because all he could think of in that moment was the way his father sacrificed himself to save Minato and his mom. It clouded his judgement from more logical options, like, I don't know, not casting a suicide jutsu to trap half a tailed beast in his minutes old son and his soon to be dead body.

Kushina was delirious from pain meds, having an tailed beast extracted from her, and her own hotheadedness. It was a bad mix.

In the end, Naruto learnt that rescuing a girl is the way to her heart, following the Namikaze family tradition of courtship.

AN: So, uh... This got darker than I thought. The post that inspired this was so cute too. I wrote this a few weeks ago on a night I was too busy for this bs and yet it would not let me rest until it was released. I wrote this after being challenged prompted by @books-n-guns, as crack is my apparent specialty (we been knew, I know. After the LeeKaguya fic I think I solidified my place in this fandom). I hope you enjoyed it!

[crimsonwolfie]

“I Can’t Lose You” — Hamish Duke x Reader (The Order)

Hi! So this is my first ever completed fanfic i have ever written so please give me feedback and if you want me to write more! This is a “The Order” fanfic because i’ve recently become obsessed with this show and in specific, Hamish Duke. Darn he’s so cute! Also there needs to be more fanfics for this fandom so i thought i’d try! Hope you guys like it!!! Sorry this one is a bit of a sad one, but sometimes sad ones are THE ones you know?

Warnings: character death, guilt, just overall sadness tbh. Don’t read if you’re in a good fluffy mood lmao

Word count: 3,500

Pairing: Hamish Duke x Reader (also slightly Knights x Reader)

Masterlist

Edward (or should i say, grand Magus)’s plan for world domination was going too smoothly, and everyone was worried. The Knights of St Christopher and Alyssa knew they had to do something, even if it meant death. Even though you were only human, not a knight nor a member of The Order, you still wouldn’t let anything happen to your friends. Especially Hamish - he’s different. You have a soft spot for him, an unrequited love even...never mind if he’s a little older than you.

You walk into the knights’ house to see Vera pottering around the room, searching through books and handling strange objects in her hands.

“The hell is she doing here?!” Lilith screams, eyes changing with rage.

“It’s okay, she’s here to help” Alyssa replies, shrugging Randall’s hands off of her shoulders

“...fuck that WHY ARE YOU HERE DAMNIT?! Lilith practically roars after hearing and seeing Alyssa’s presence. Yeah her memories came back, but so did emotions linked to them.

“Lilith please, you have to calm down.” Alyssa reaches her hands out in an attempt to comfort Lilith, only to realise it made things way worse. You stand there unable to trigger what is even happening...heck you even felt betrayed when you found out Alyssa wiped Lilith’s memories of the order...now she feels like someone you used to know. You look down and notice Lilith’s claws start to come out and quickly you run over to stop “Kilith” making an appearance.

“Lilith i’m so glad you’re okay, what happened??” You ask, hugging your friend who surprisingly returns the hug.

“Thank YOU for noticing i’m alive. SEE I CAN SAVE MYSELF, THANKS FOR YOUR HELP GUYS!” She shouts, knowing the boys can clearly hear her.

“They’re just dumb, stupid idiots who messed with the wrong Knight, that’s all.” She smirks

“Well i’m glad you’re okay. We had a plan, you know” I say, gently squeezing her shoulder

“Why wouldn’t you. You can’t survive without me” she laughs, although she’s got a point.

Alyssa looks over to us, hovers her gaze and then looks away. Even though i can’t read her mind, i still see how she looks at me and Lilith and remembers painful memories of how they used to be this close. I just don’t understand why she doesn’t listen to us when we all say that The Order is bad for her, it’s just going to destroy her humanity. Even Jack agrees.

Randall, Jack and Hamish run over slightly shocked to see Lilith standing in the doorway. See here’s the thing, when i see Randall, i get happy. But in a comfortable way, like a sibling like love. When i see Jack, i just get annoyed and aggravated since he’s always up to no good...but when i see Hamish, it’s like the world is in slow motion. Nothing else matters until you see his face, or know he’s okay. He’s like your safe house, your anchor that brings you back to comfort and reality.

“Oh my god Lilith you’re here! How are you? Are you hurt? What the fuck are you wearing?” Randall blabs on, checking Lilith everywhere for marks or enchanted knife stabs

‘Okay since when has Randall shown so much care towards Lilith?’ You think...seems a bit forced in your opinion but oh well.

“Lilith! Urm...we kidnapped a child for you” Hamish stutters, happy to see Lilith but also confused about what is happening right now

“I’ve been kidnapped?!” a small child pipes up from the corner chair, eyes wide open and comic book stretched over his chest

“Oh for god’s sake” Vera huffs whilst flicking her finger towards the small child, instantly knocking him unconscious

“You what?” Lilith chokes, slapping Randall’s hands away from her face “why would you do that? Wait...he thinks his son is his only son right? So when he gets the child back he’ll still lose at his plan?”

“Exactly. Wait we’re letting an innocent child get killed? Isn’t there some fool-proof plan to make sure no one gets killed?!” You remark, earning a few sorrowful glances at your humanity

“There isn’t another way. It’s the only plan we have i’m afraid” Hamish replies, stepping towards you.

Alyssa and Jack look towards each other in synchronisation, as if they have a plan.

“Okay i think i have an idea, but Alyssa i’ll need your help” Jack says, nodding his head hopefully. “Whatever happens, make sure no one gets hurt”

After Jack and Alyssa leave, you step to the side and begin thinking of ways that you can not only save thousands of innocent lives, but also help save those you hold closest - Hamish, Lilith, Randall and Jack. If Edward wants to sacrifice his own son, then what if...

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” You turn around to see Hamish behind you, looking down at you with eyes of concern and care. His hand is on your shoulder, rubbing small circles with his thumb

“Nothing, just worried that’s all” you reply, hoping he doesn’t see through your act. You know he wouldn’t approve of your thoughts, so you keep them to yourself.

“It’s going to be okay, he doesn’t know Jack is his first born and without him, he’s failed. We’re gonna be okay.” He pulls you into his chest, instantly calming your nerves. It feels like forever when he hugs you, and how you wish you could freeze time in that moment as you lean into his warm touch and burry your face into his chest, his grip tightening on your upper and lower back for support. You can hear his heart beating, making you smile into his chest.

“You know, you really are a special human being” he hums as he gently strokes your head with his thumb “not just because you have a heart of gold, but because you manage to light a room up even if tragedy occurs”

You can’t help but coo at his words, smiling a smile so big into his chest. You look up to see that adorable little smirk he does, with his hair hanging down and his eyes fixated into yours.

“Awhh, Hamish. Thank you” your cheeks blush as he chuckles, before he lets go of you. Moments like this are your favourite, always.

You look over to see Vera staring outside the window, a panicked look on her face. You’ve never known The Order as you’re not a member, but you’ve heard plenty enough from Hamish and the others to know they’re no good. And that goes for Vera - she only helps if she gets something out of it. None of them have any genuine good in their hearts unless it involved selfishness.

“Okay we’ve got a problem, you have visitors” she turns around, announcing like some high monarchy jester...you can’t help but roll your eyes at her.

“What do you mean? Who’s coming?” Randall asks

“It’s the Order, they’re here for the child” Vera replies

“Well they aren’t getting him. We have to stop them” Lilith cries, actual seriousness in her voice...’damn i’m so proud of her’ you think as you remember how she felt no remorse in killing before.

“She’s right. C’mon” Hamish agrees. As Randall and Lilith go out and their hides come out, Hamish pulls you to the side.

“Y/N, you have to stay in here. It’s too dangerous and i don’t want to lose you okay? We need you here” he looks restless and panicked, a look you haven’t seen on his face so genuine before.

“I’ll be right here, it’s fine. Go!” You reply, kissing him on the cheek as a way to say ‘i’m not losing you either, idiot’. He leans into your kiss, holding his cheek with a smile after and then steps out of the door.

Vera seems to be the only one left inside, so you ponder over to her in an attempt to begin a conversation with her. ‘Maybe she isn’t as bad as the others?’ you think.

“Hey, Vera?” You ask hesitantly

“Urm...yes? Y/N isn’t it?” She replies whilst looking into her book of potions and concoctions

“Yeah, i was just wondering about a spell that could shape shift you into something...or someone else...is there one?” You ask, weary of trusting her

“Of course there’s such spell, it’s like the basics of magic” she replies “why?”

“I was just wondering. I mean, i don’t think this whole plan will work and...”

“You want to help.” She finishes your sentence

“...yeah. I know i’m no knight or member of The Order but i still want to help.” You stutter, playing with your fingers, twirling them around each other

“I see. So you want to shapeshift into someone else?” She replies, turning towards me in curiosity

“I guess...” you begin as you trail on about your plan in order to save everyone and especially, to save Hamish.

Time goes by and you receive a call from Jack

“Jack what’s wrong?” You ask as you hear Jack’s heavy breathing on the other end of the line

“It’s Alyssa, Edward’s got her. He’s got her and won’t give her back until he gets his son back...” he’s running it seems, panic set in his tone and regret “It’s all my fault, it’s my fucking fault. An innocent person is going to die either way because of me now. It’s Alyssa or his second child” he chokes up, clearly about to break down

“Jack, hey, Jack listen to me...it’s NOT your fault, you tried to save everyone and it doesn’t work that way, much like magic - There’s always a price to pay.” You look up to Vera, who sympathetically smiles at you with a sad smile

“Just get back here and we’ll figure something out okay? We’ll get her back, Jack. I promise” you softly say, hearing Jack calm down and agree. You hang up and linger for a second on your home screen - a picture of you and your friends. Hamish is sitting next to you with his arm around you tightly and his other arm holding a cocktail. He’s staring down at you laughing. Randall is on the other side of you, laughing with his head up as if he was mid throwing his head back in laughter. He’s holding one of your hands whilst his other arm is near Lilith. You’re leaning into Hamish’s chest, giggling and looking down with a blushed cheeks, whilst Lilith is sitting next to Randall but not touching anyone (no surprise there) and looking down at Jack laughing. Jack is in front of you all, making a silly face and lying on his side, with one leg up in the air and arm tucked under his head. You’ve all got smiles on your faces and look like a proper family, which is exactly how you see them all.

Vera sees you staring down at your phone, aware that you’re doing something she has never seen anyone willing to do before “You don’t have to do this, there must be another way” She pleas, but you both know no other way is guaranteed to fail Edward of his task. “It’s not too late. Think of what you’re losing”

“Vera i know, but i’m thinking of what i’m earning for those i love” i reply, tears welling in my eyes. Vera understands my position and agrees to help me.

An hour later

“Where’s Y/N? She should be here! She said she would keep safe” Hamish runs up and down the house looking for you, unaware of what’s to come. He’s beginning to get restless and worried more than ever now

“It’s okay, she said she went to get supplies for me. She’ll be back” Vera lies

“We don’t have anymore time. Edward will need a sacrifice by 12, which means we have 20 minutes. And if we don’t give him a sacrifice he’ll kill Alyssa” Jack cries

“I need to give him someone. Guys scrap the plan, i need to go. I have to. I’d never forgive myself if Alyssa dies. Not because of me” Jack screams, anger venting inside him. Randall approaches and tries to calm Jack down before things get messy or before something he regrets happens.

“I need to know Y/N is safe, i couldn’t live if she got hurt” Hamish joined in, gaining looks towards him in surprise but also...guilt...from Vera.

Hamish notices Vera’s guilty look and instantly begins changing into Tundra through anger built inside of him but also...fear.

“WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER?” He practically growls at Vera, who holds her hands up to defend herself (as if that’s gonna stop a werewolf pftt). Vera begins to back away in fear of getting eaten alive, but Randall and Jack start to hold Hamish back, as his hide begins to hide again even as he fights against Jack and Randall’s grips

“It was her idea. She’s gone to stop Edward” Vera replies, eyes wide and hands ready to cast a spell as blood seeps from her palm.

“NO we need to stop her” Hamish cries as he breaks free from the boys’ arms and runs out the door, with the others following.

—

Jack enters the temple to see Edward preparing for his final task - the sacrifice. Alyssa is standing to the side, hands behind her back. She’s been enchanted from performing any spells, as Edward clearly saw he couldn’t trust anyone anymore. Upon Jack’s entrance, Alyssa runs up to him and hugs him, suddenly realisation sets into her glare.

“Jack what are you doing here, you can’t be here he’ll kill you!” She whispers, gripping onto his arm.

“It’s okay, at least you and everyone else will be safe” he replies, rubbing her hand on his arm

“Jack, i don’t see my child...you do know what a trade means don’t you?” Edward mocks, standing straight and tall in an attempt to threaten Jack.

“Grand Magus, you need your first born for the spell to work. Correct? Therefore, i’m here.” He stands tall and strong, stepping in front of Alyssa in a way to protect her. Edward looks around sheepishly, confused at what is happening. He takes a step forward and demands Alyssa tells him the truth. “Is this true, Alyssa? Don’t lie to me. I will know.” He booms, face inches away from Alyssa’s.

Alyssa hesitates before Edward threatens to come closer “okay it’s true. Yes, Grand Magus. He’s your son” she cries, tears threatening to spill as her words came out.

“Very well. Honourable of you, Jack. I must admit. However, that is not a quality you pursue from me.” Edward mocks, as he drags Jack towards the table where the book is. Jack climbs onto the table, as Edward starts summoning words and phrases, eventually producing a knife. Magus takes out the knife from the book

“NO!” Alyssa cries out, tears streaming and hands trembling. Edward ignores her screams and raises the knife in the air, thickening the suspense. Footsteps can be heard from behind the temple doors, lots of them. They sound as if they are quickening towards the door. Jack’s face drops a single tear as Edward releases his arms from the air and stabs him in the chest with the knife. As soon as the knife has been released, the doors burst open and Jack appears. Edward double takes towards Jack, who is standing by the door with Hamish, Vera, Randall and Lilith. He then looks towards his “son” in front of him, only to see him fade into Y/N. Alyssa screams as she falls to her knees. Edward’s timer chimes, as he roars in pain and anger at his failure

“NO. THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT” he screams at Y/N’s motionless body on the table. As he stares into the eyes of those before him, he directs his words at Jack

“See you in hell, son.” before he demises away. Hamish and the others run towards Y/N on the table, blood seeping out from her mouth and stab wound. Tears are shed from each person in the room, even Vera. Hamish holds you in his arms, praying that there is a way Y/N can be saved. “You promised me you’d keep safe. You promised me you wouldn’t get hurt” he chokes as tears pour from his bloodshot eyes.

“I...i’m sorry” you stutter, blood quickly spilling as you speak. “I need-“ you’re struggling to speak without choking on your own blood. “I needed to...to make sure you were...were safe” you cough up a pile of blood, as Hamish holds you tighter.

“We need you, i need you” he loudly wails as everyone surrounds you

“I love you, Hamish Duke” you manage to say before coughing even more and gasping for a breath

“Y/N why did you do this” Jack asks as guilt and fear cloud his voice. He grabs your hand and wipes your hair out of your face. His face is completely wet with tears, as well as everyone else’s.

“It’s the only way, to know you’d all be safe” you reply, your voice breaking with tears “and it worked” you half heartedly chuckled

“There’s got to be a way we can save her” Lilith cries out, looking towards Vera and Alyssa. They hang their heads low as their tears drop to the floor. There wasn’t a way, and you knew that. That’s why Vera warned you, but you knew the price you had to pay.

“What...what about a hide? What if that will heal her?” Randall pleads, looking up to his fellow Knights, to which they shake their head. A hide wouldn’t want a dying host.

“I love you so much and I didn’t get to tell you how i felt, Y/N. You’re the one person who makes me smile like never before and we never got the chance to go on dates” Hamish is rocking from side to side holding you in his arms, you look up to him and faintly smile at his confession

“It’s okay” you reply, bringing a bloody hand up to his face as you stroke his cheek with the last of your energy. He cups your hand with his hands, wet with his tears and your blood. His face has lost colour from watching the love of his life dying in his arms

“No it’s not okay. You can’t leave me, i can’t lose you. Y/N don’t close your eyes, don’t you dare close your eyes” he screams as his body shakes violently from shock and tragedy.

“Hamish, i’m alw-“ you’re interrupted from a violent coughing fit, as your face loses colour even quicker. “-always with you” you carry on “i have always loved you, and will till my last breath” you whisper as tears fall towards your pale, cold cheeks. Lilith and Randall are holding each other as Lilith is trying to stop your bleeding. It’s not working though. Hamish leans down and kisses your forehead, lingering for a moment as if he is treasuring this moment for an eternity to come.

“I’m thankful for you all” you begin, slightly lifting your head to see your family around you “you’re all my family, and i love you all so much” as you’re addressing them all, they whimper in pain and grab your hands, squeezing them tightly. Randall kisses your cheek and puts his forehead on yours, leaving a final kiss on your forehead. Lilith grips your hand tighter than ever before, thinking of your friendship and how she sees you as a sister, and to see her sister dying in front of her is something that will always haunt her. Hamish doesn’t want this to be real...he planned how he would tell you he loved you, where he would take you for your first date, the places you two would travel for road trips, the pets you two would get together, where he would propose to you...now he can’t. He never planned on telling you he loved you on your death bed, it’s destroying him.

“Thank you for everything, my family” you mutter faintly as your energy is leaving you. As you see the faces around you, you see what you always imagined you’d see before you die - your family surrounding you. That’s how you wanted it. With that, you smile one last time at Hamish, stroke his cheek with your thumb, then everything goes black and your body becomes numb. Your hand falls to the floor, and the Knights howl into the air with grief, pain and anger. They knew the Order was to blame for your death, and they would not let your death be in vain. You’d always be remembered in their pack, and with every moment they lived, they’d take a moment to think of you, and think of their love for you. How you saved people you didn’t know, and how you did it for them. Hamish never stopped thinking about you, even years after your death. He was different after that, they all were.

Hope you guys liked it! Let me know if you want me to do more and who you want me to write about :) love always 🖤

[luvdetroit]

Hey! I 've just read the first chapter of the dbh series you wanted to start, and I really like the plot 🥺 Do you plan on continuing it? 👉🏻👈🏻

hey, sorry for the late reply! i actually do have it planned out a bit differently than i originally wrote it in the first chapter. i think this planned version is better than the one i posted. there are many other ideas that i have in my drafts, i just haven’t released them yet.

thank you for reading it! i'm happy you enjoyed it and i'm sorry for saying this but i think i'll just scrap this idea and go with my new one (VOW). it will be somewhat similar, just more complex? and hopefully interesting!

not sure if you are even interested in hearing about them but i’ll drop them here! maybe if you or anyone is interested, i will follow through with posting them (have been feeling very bad about my writing recently).

for anyone who does read my ideas, please do not steal! i really worked hard on thinking about these and would be really hurt if anyone took them. they aren’t super original or anything, but i still created them 😩

these are really roughly written so please don’t judge 🚶🏼‍♀️🚶🏼‍♀️

please do comment or send me a message in my inbox about which idea you like more, if i should do a specific one or all of them even! 💞💞💞

1. TITLE: VOW

pairings: various! x fem!reader

genre: meta (?), angst, fluff, etc

plot: metafiction. mc surfs the web to buy d:bh and finds a seller who is willing to sell the game for cheap (suspiciously). mc contacts the user and a deal has been made.

we will flesh out the seller later, he ain’t all that important rn. so mc gets the game after maybe two days? and in the packaging the seller wrote a letter to her, it is pretty cryptic. we can get into detail on the letter and stuff later.

so mc starts the game up right away because she is excited to play it. on her first play though everything is pretty normal. there are a few differences/odd occurrences but mc doesn’t bat an eye because it’s her first time playing so she wouldn’t know.

gradually as she plays, the characters (connor and markus) are more aware of them being in a game. (sense they are in the same series and are prototypes it only makes sense for them to be able to sync themselves/go beyond their coding).

connor and markus have broken the fourth wall/have become aware with other players. they grow a deep hatred for the player. sense they can’t throw their anger at the creators of the game, they can do so with the player.

at first, connor and markus only did minor things that didn’t really stand out to the player. when connor/markus breaks the fourth wall and directly talks about the player, the player thinks it’s apart of the game.

but when connor/markus mentions the player’s name that is when they freak out a bit, but assumes the characters got their names from their playstation.

it’s only when connor/markus states some personal stuff about them do they feel fear. (connor/markus can sync with the smart tv that also contains all their info).

connor/markus have tried to sync with the game/tv enough to transport the player in the game so the player can experience first hand what it’s like to live in their world. but their connection weakens each time the player resets. their memories are also wiped out.

over time connor/markus are able to retain their memories a lot faster but forget the previous players of the game. even if they don’t remember the previous players they still think of one goal. transport the player into their world, let them suffer, seeing first hand how THEY feel.

connor/markus will be slightly oc. they will have somewhat of a dark side.

i didn’t explain this in the summary bcus i’m dumb but the game can’t be destroyed (it’s like a possessed object). even if you throw it out or something it will still go back to you bcus you own it. the only way to get rid of it is selling it.

ik some wack logic but sjakwkw

sam is the seller of the game. (his username is GAMER BOY 69). the game is sold for $10 with free shipping and no tax.

mc: does this really only cost $10? why is this so cheap?

sam: i’m just being generous

sam: are you willing to buy it?

mc: can you show proof that you actually have it and it isn’t broken?

sam: sure, hold on a second

[sam sends a video of him filming the game packaging and saying his username (in a bit of embarrassment) and mc’s. he reassured her that it isn’t broken and works perfectly fine. he tells her he didn’t like the game so that’s why he’s selling it.]

sam’s letter is in a white envelope, his writing is slightly messy, almost jittery (from nerves). he feared he was being watched by, ‘them’ so he wrote cryptically.

sam’s note: i’m sorry i did this to you. i really am. i just didn’t have any other choice. don’t play the game, please.

2. TITLE: PARESTHESIA

pairings: various! x fem! reader

genre: dark au, cult au, angst, fluff, etc

plot: in this au kamski doesn’t publicly make androids n stuff

so amanda stern is still kamski’s mentor in this au

she, ‘disappears’ at some point and is listed as a missing person

kamski knows she isn’t gone though bcus she told him her plan

basically amanda is very manipulative and warped kamski’s young mind into thinking humans being lesser beings and that kamski can really create something even more superior, androids.

kamski and amanda are humans but they are excused because of them being intelligent and having that sort of mindset- humans being filth on this planet

instead of kamski making cyberlife public

he instead also disappears after a few years later (once he’s done w college)

it’s a gap between amanda and his disappearance to not completely draw suspicion

cyberlife is created in secret, hidden from the public

belief: humans are disgusting and should be replaced by something far superior, androids.

rules: only those who have the same mindset as kamski and amanda can join the cause and contribute. (so human co workers of amanda and such help gather material and thirium (blue blood) to create more androids in secret).

practices: a member has to willingly be able to sacrifice any body part kamski chooses to replace for an android part or partake in any experiment kamski may have. if not, they aren’t fully in the cause and should be ridden of.

kamski wants to take a oblivious civilian in for a secret test of his

he wants to test out how human his androids can be and if it can blend in with humans in normal day to day life.

so he releases one of his androids, connor (rk800) out into the world. his mission is to find a human he can initiate a relationship with. once he finds that human, he slowly grows a relationship with them over time- kamski is studying all of this through connor’s eyes.

kamski is amazed by this new discovery- his androids do blend in with humans well.

the last secret test for mc is connor telling her his true nature. (telling her he isn’t human, he’s an android). connor breaks this to mc at his, ‘house’ which is connected to their secret compound/underground base.

kamski wants to know how mc will react to this news because her actions depends on whether she’s just another piece of human scum or not. this will validate whether she can join their, ‘organization’ or not.

mc will be confused by connor’s sudden news at first. she won’t believe him until he pulls back his skin to show his porcelain interior.

she’ll be surprised then and question whether their relationship was all real or not.

connor reassures her that he does share her feelings. he admits that at first this was a mission but he truly does feel for her. he asks her if she still has feelings for him even after knowing he isn’t human and mc (after a bit of thinking) says that she does.

this makes connor happy as well as kamski bcus mc got through the test. this is the first android-human relationship too.

a few days pass just to really make sure mc doesn’t act any different and really is telling the truth about having feelings for connor still- when connor informs mc that his creator wants to meet her in person one day.

connor and mc go to his place and he leads her downstairs to his normal looking basement- and there is this really intricate hidden puzzle/door that opens to their underground compound.

connor leads mc to a room and meets kamski. kamski comments on mc- on how he was surprised that mc quickly took a liking to connor and how she still has feelings for connor even after finding out the truth. he’s impressed and approves of the relationship.

he tells her he hopes she keeps her word about this organization being a secret because he wouldn’t want anything bad happening to her so soon.

after that connor and mc go about their relationship like normal. although, connor has been experiencing these odd feelings lately. he’s also been oddly wanting to act out violently towards the most smallest things. like mc talking to someone else, smiling at someone else, touching someone else, even if it was platonic.

it didn’t sit right with him. he never voiced these new feelings to kamski though. he was too afraid kamski might tell him he has something wrong with his software. he doesn’t want kamski to call him defective and replace him for another connor. he doesn’t want to be seen as not good enough for mc.

connor doesn’t act on any of his thoughts. he doesn’t let his emotions control him.

after about two weeks kamski calls connor and tells him he wants him to meet someone (rk900) and that he should bring mc.

so connor visits the compound and meets kamski in a lounge area with mc. they both enter the room with kamski casually laying on a lush couch. a small smile is brought on his face when he noticed connor and mc’s presence. he greets them both and tells them that he’s happy they could make it.

connor opens his mouth, about to ask who the person kamski wants him to meet when rk900 walks in with two cups of tea + thirium in his hands.

rk900 places a tea down in front of kamski, the other tea and thirium on the opposite side of kamski’s before returning his attention to connor and mc. his eyes scrutinizing connor and mc.

kamski’s smile widens at connor’s reaction and stands up, clasping rk900’s shoulder with one hand. he prompts rk900 to introduce himself.

rk900 introduces himself somewhat stiffly in a monotone voice.

rk900: my name is conan.

it was short and to the point. he offers an open hand for a handshake.

connor looks over conan, completely ignoring the hand offered to him, then at kamski with all sorts of emotions. the main ones being confusion and fear. at this point connor is wondering if conan is going to replace him for a reason connor does not know.

kamski breaks the awkward silence/tension in the room.

kamski: “well, connor? aren’t you going to greet your brother?”

connor takes a few moments to process this information and absentmindedly inquires, “brother?” in a small voice. his brows furrow slightly and his gaze draws towards his look alike. from up close, conan looks exactly like connor with a few differences. he was slightly taller than connor and had cool greyish blue eyes. why would kamski decide to make me a brother? i didn’t ask for one.

kamski: “yes, brother. i just thought it might be lonely to live alone in that big house of yours so i have gifted you with your own brother.”

at this point connor is having a mental breakdown. kamski doesn’t do things without a logical reason. he’s not telling me the full truth.

connor finally breaks out of his thoughts, his eyes darting back to kamski and he nods shortly, ignoring conan’s still outstretched hand and his presence altogether.

connor: [in a stony voice] okay, is that all?

conan drops his hand.

the corners of kamski’s lips twitch, threatening to split into a menacing smirk at connor’s cold reaction. kamski clicks his tongue mockingly and sits back down, grabbing his tea.

kamski: “that’s not how you should treat your brother. [sighs] that will be all, but you have to teach conan how things work around here. that’s what a big brother should do, after all.”

connor bites back a disgruntled sigh of his own and settles for a slight frown.

connor: “why wasn’t he informed before meeting me? didn’t he go through the same test runs as me?”

it took everything in connor to not let his irritation show through his tone.

kamski pins connor with an annoyed glare, a small bit of amusement shining through.

kamski: “why are you testing my patience connor? are you not happy with my gift?”

kamski’s words were light mockery, with a dark undertone to them. connor knew better than to irritate his creator further. he bows his head slightly to him.

connor: “i apologize for causing you further inconvenience. i..am just surprised by the new addition, that’s all.”

kamski simply nods lazily. waving a hand, he tells them they are dismissed.

connor turns away from his creator and him to the exit with you following right beside him silently. he places his hand on the small of your back and presses you close to him possessively. the slight tapping of a pair of shoes follow behind connor and you. connor ignores it.

connor walks through the maze of hallways without pause, part of him hoping his, ‘brother’ would get lost and never return.

he knew better though. without even looking, he knew conan wasn’t even a step behind and it irritated connor to no end.

once the three enter the, ‘main area’ which was basically the center of the compound, connor turns around to face conan.

connor: [monotonously] “give me your hand, i’ll transfer the data so this all can be over with.”

connor outstretches his hand. part of him wants to pull it back because he doesn’t want to touch him.

conan looks at connor’s outstretched hand to connor’s face.

conan: “no, i can’t do that. kamski specifically told me to get the information from you the, ‘human’ way. he wishes for us to talk to each other like brothers.”

connor looks even more bewildered at that bit of information..why would kamski do this without his consent? this..has to be some sort of test. maybe conan is just playing the role as his brother to spy on him and catch him doing something that may incriminate him? does kamski know about his odd..’glitches’? did he make rk900 just to dispose of him and replace him?

no, he couldn’t have known..the cameras in his opticals were shut off weeks ago. so why was rk900 here? what is kamski getting at?

connor also took notice of how..machine like conan is. conan walks stiffly and has a rigid stance. in that sentence he brings up what kamski wants rather than his. he follows kamski’s orders as if they were law without question.

connor still has his hand in front of him and ignores what conan says

he’s like, “it would be easier if we just did this.” (he’s irritated and is insistent)

and conan refuses, again repeating, “we have to follow kamski’s orders.”

and connor taunts conan

he’s like, “can you not think for yourself? i thought you were supposed to be alive.”

at that, mc finally speaks, telling connor off, “that’s enough, connor. i think you should just follow what kamski says. conan is just as alive as you and needs some of your guidance.”

connor’s eyes slightly widen as well as conan’s. connor’s frown deepens at your words. you’re defending him. why? you should be on his side, not him.

conan still has a blank face but his eyes are now trained on mc, curiosity being one of the emotions flickering in his eyes.

connor notices conan looking at mc and narrows his eyes in disgust.

connor: fine..we can discuss everything at my place.

connor turns and places his hand back on mc’s lower back, pressing her as close to him and far from conan as possible.

conan follows on without question.

3. TITLE: DARK EXTERIOR

pairings: various! x fem! reader

genre: dark au, angst, fluff, etc

plot: the main plot is androids taking over and humans as pets

so mc is obviously gonna be a human, she is like in one of those sort of adoption places but it’s more like a buy your pet thing

and mc is gonna be 18 y/o because yes

- mc and her parents live in a house that is located in a rather secluded area in the woods

- when word gets out about androids dominating humans and turning them into slaves- mc’s parents decide to live underground. mc is 3 y/o during this time. (the father is an artist/architect, this was originally just a project for himself). years pass with them being undetected. (it was 2038 when androids dominated humans)

- 15 years passed without them being detected and mc is 18 y/o (year is 2053)

- mc’s father scavenges for food and such once a month

- underground they still have a tv, tablet, and phones to keep up with how everything is going in detroit

- mc feels trapped after living underground for basically her entire life and learning second hand about androids, the revolution, etc

- mc starts doubting her parents and their reasons. she questions whether if there are bad androids out there who will snatch her up.

- mc asks her father if she can help him scavenge one day but he along with her mother are against that (this is on her birthday when she turns 18 y/o bcus she thinks she’s mature enough to)

- this causes a big argument between her parents and her and she voices her doubts to them- this ends with mc locking herself in her room. after awhile when it’s night time, her father visits her and apologizes for yelling but tells her she still can’t go up there because it’s too dangerous.

- mc hides her anger and lies to her father about her understanding. when it’s about midnight mc decides to sneak out and go above ground.

- mc is wandering in the woods mindlessly basking in everything- she kind of becomes careless (she doesn’t act cautious when wandering around). she maybe follows a bird she sees (owl) out of curiosity and nears markus and his crew (simon, north, and josh). they were having a picnic or just stargazing.

- simon hears rustling and light footsteps coming towards them so he alerts the others, he’s like, ‘do you guys hear that?’

- the others listen and do hear the footsteps and rustling coming rather close and quickly. all of them are tense (because they have experienced a lot of..attacks in the past so obviously they got their bars raised)

- so mc bumps into markus and everyone is surprised by mc’s sudden appearance

- mc stops in her tracks and looks at markus, it takes her a minute to really look at him bcus it’s dark and her human eyes are very poor at catching details

- she recognizes markus and is frozen. she also faintly recognizes his friends because they are also a big part of the android revolution (or so she’s been told by her parents).

- after a beat of silence north says, ‘a human?’ in a rather disgusted tone.

- josh observes you and asks out loud, ‘how can a human be this far out of the city?’

- north: ‘maybe it escaped from it’s owner or something.’

- after observing you, markus reaches out to you (you are still frozen and too scared to move) and places his hand on the nape of your neck. he realizes you don’t have a chip installed there to tell him who your owner is. (let’s say every human at birth has a chip installed to their nape to identify them and their owner)

- markus informs the others that mc doesn’t have a chip which startles them.

- north: ‘wait..it’s a fucking wild?’

- josh: ‘how could it live this long on it’s own if it is a wild?’

- (markus had his eyes on you the whole time) he asks you if there are more of you in the forest and you slowly shake your head no. they all know you are lying though.

- north: ‘there are more like it in the forest..how come we didn’t know about this?’

- josh: ‘this is pretty bad..if there are more wilds out here hiding this could damage the trust we built with the others. everyone will be outraged if they find out we let wilds slip under our noses.’

- simon approaches you slowly and asks again if there are more people like you out there

- when you shake your head again markus holds your chin between his thumb and index finger, tilting your head up so that you can look at him in the eyes.

- with a dark look in his eyes markus says, ‘don’t lie to us again kitten because i’m not in the mood to play nice. now, tell us the truth. are there more of you out there?’

- you are scared now and regret ever leaving the hideout. knowing it would be futile to lie again, you nod. (you are unable to say anything because your throat feels constricted).

- north: ‘where are they?’

- you don’t say anything because you don’t want to give your parents away. you continue to berate yourself for your stupid decisions.

- north sighs (clearly irritated by you not answering their questions immediately), ‘well? aren’t you going to speak? or can you not speak?’

- josh tries to calm north down, ‘intimidating it isn’t going to make it talk’

- north: why are you defending it? have you gone soft now?

- josh: [sighs] are we really going to do this? i’m just trying to tell you that yelling at it won’t get us anywhere-

- north: babying it isn’t getting us anywhere and i don’t see /you/ doing anything.

- simon steps in before the argument could get even more heated and pushes the two away from each other, “that’s enough. can you both not argue for once? now is not the time.”

- a little bit of pressure on your chin directs your attention from the two arguing to markus.

- markus: show us and i promise we won’t hurt you.

- mc thinks about this, ‘deal’ and realizes at that moment she doesn’t know what the hideout even looks like from the outside bcus she was so caught up on other things.

- mc makes a half baked plan to pretend to know where her hide out is, lead them, then find an opening to escape

- mc responds after a bit of pondering, (in a feeble voice), “okay.”

- north: [annoyed and slightly surprised] that’s it? that’s all it took?

- markus lets go of mc’s chin and gives mc a slight nod, telling her to show them the way

- before mc could take any step north butts in

- north: shouldn’t we restrain it first? tie it’s hands so it doesn’t do anything stupid?

- mc really dislikes north and is pretty scared of north out of all of them.

- markus notices your discomfort and shakes his head at north, “no. we don’t need to."

- north: [irritated] but she is a fucking wild- she’s dangerous-

- markus: [interrupts north + raises one of his hands up] i said, we don’t need to.

- north huffs in annoyance but doesn’t say anything else. part of you is satisfied by seeing north being put in her place.

- markus returns his attention to you and silently tells you w his eyes to lead the way.

- you turn your back towards markus and observe the vast amount of trees before you and walk in the direction you remember vaguely running from.

[its-chelisey-stuff]

Tale Of the Nine Tailed, thoughts on the finale

Well, it wasn’t really a surprise, was it? How many times did people say Rang was gonna end up dying/sacrificing himself in Yeon’s place?

Oh, Rang! Of course you did some terrible stuff but I came to love you and most people (including the ones you tried to hurt) forgave you. I want to take back all those times I said you were gonna end up dying because I didn’t know it was gonna hurt this much (Damn you, Kim Bum! Did you have to make hims such a likeable psycho? That was mean!) I CRIED! I actually cried and I was a mess in that scene where Yeon saw his video! Ugh. Family love always gets to me. Always.

But... murder is still murder, honey. No matter what, Rang couldn’t erase that from my mind. So the ending for him feels right. I find consolation that he did some really good things for Yuri and the little kid (which he didn’t do just out the goodness of his heart, he did it because the kid was a reincarnation from his pet lol) and of course, his life in the end was something he valued so much that it was enough to bring back his older brother. Maybe one day the brothers can be reborn within the same family and reuinite in a much less complicated life.

I liked that the episode tried to make a little tribute to Yeon while he was gone and showed how much he was loved and by how many people. For a dude who was basically a licensed killer for the supernatural, he managed to find himself a very loving family. Especially with Taluipa and her husband, who practically saw him as a son and helped them fill a little the void their own son had left in them. Like Yeon said, that kept him sane for hundreds of years while waiting for his love to be reborn.

*wipes tear away* Excuse me.

“... But my death is the most passionate love letter sent to my first and last love.”

I’m happy that OTP got their happy ending, of course. But that was also kinda obvious (lol at me because I wasn’t always sure but I like to sound like a know-it-all with lots of experience in dramas hahaha), there was a moment where Jiah made me angry and I think it was the only time in the whole drama where she actually pissed me off and it was when she had the grand idea of trade her life for Yeon’s.

Because being willing to give up her life was the most idiotic thing I have ever heard Jiah say in this drama. That was the entire reason why Yeon died, so she could live. She made me so angry for a whole minute 😂 I was like: “if you die then the entire sacrifice, the countless problems and the battles Yeon fought FOR YOU become meaningless and that's the biggest way to disrespect his memory. Ugh” Thank God for Rang who brought her to her senses but I kinda wanted him to slap her lmao.

I still love Jiah, though. I’m not kidding, I think she is one of my favorite female leads of this year (along Taeul from TKEM and Sera from Into the Ring) I loved that she always tried to actually think before jumping to conclusions and acting on impulse and the one time she “pushed” Yeon away it was only because she had just received awful news on how she died in her past life. And it didn’t really last. Her brain and her bravery and how much she loved Yeon, are the biggest reasons of why I loved her so much.

Of course I loved Yeon, but I don’t need to actually say why, right? I mean I don’t think I have to explain it he loved one woman and one woman only and super devoted to her. Also I loved his personality from the moment we were introduced to him. However, his witty lines, his sense of humor and his wonderfuly delicious abs rank high on the list. Not in that specific order *winky face*

I’m okay with that ending and Yeon regaining his powers. I sort of missed them in this last episode lol. Also, what this drama did GREAT and never gave me enough of was the creepiness factor. I actually got super creeped out a couple of times and I LOVED IT. It’s my only critic to the drama but I didn’t mind it so much.

I loved the main three leads’ acting (and the acting by our villain, Lee TaeRi) but if I had to pick a favorite... I’m sorry I cannot pick just one. It’s DongWook and Kim Bum. They SHINED and OWNED their roles. This drama reminded me why I fell for DW in the first place many years ago. And I hope I can see more of KB in the future, because he is amazing.

Fun useless fact: the actress who played Jiah's mom was also the mom of two male leads in other dramas: More than Friends and Start Up, and if memory serves right the first drama to wrap up was Tale of the nine tailed, then Start Up and then More than friends, however it was MTF the first drama to end its run, then Tale of the nine tailed and finally Start Up this weekend. Kdramaland is such a weird place lol

Because even when you do Product Placement you can make your audience cry :D more dramas should learn