#forcing me to see straight people is a crime against humanity and god DAMN it mylene not getting a gf is a crime

[hexados-on-a-string]

I JUST FUCKIN REALIZED ITS FEBRUARY. FEMSLASH FEBRUARY. bakugan sapphics i have failed you... i will make content to feed myself (a lesbian) tomorrow maybe...

[thecaffeinebookwarrior]

The Importance of Antiheroes

By Brooksie C. Fontaine (me) and Sara R. McKearney 

Few tropes are as ubiquitous as that of the hero. He takes the form of Superman, ethically and non-lethally thwarting Lex Luthor. Of Luke Skywalker, gazing wistfully at twin suns and waiting for his adventure to begin. In pre-Eastwood era films, a white Stetson made the law-abiding hero easily distinguishable from his black-hatted antagonists. He is Harry Potter, Jon Snow, T’Challa, Simba. He is of many incarnations, he is virtually inescapable, and he serves a necessary function: he reminds us of what we can achieve, and that regardless of circumstance, we can choose to be good. We need our heroes, and always will.

But equally vital to the life-blood of any culture is his more nebulous and difficult to define counterpart: the antihero. Whereas the hero is defined, more or less, by his morality and exceptionalism, the antihero doesn’t cleanly meet these criteria. Where the hero tends to be confident and self-assured, the antihero may have justifiable insecurities. While the hero has faith in the goodness of humanity, the anthero knows from experience how vile humans can be. While the hero typically respects and adheres to authority figures and social norms, the antihero may rail against them for any number of reasons. While the hero always embraces good and rejects evil, the antihero may do either. And though the hero might always be buff, physically capable, and mentally astute, the antihero may be average or below.  The antihero scoffs at the obligation to be perfect, and our culture's demand for martyrdom. And somehow, he is at least as timeless and enduring as his sparklingly heroic peers. 

Which begs the question: where did the antihero come from, and why do we need him?

The Birth of the Anti-Hero:

It is worth noting that many of the oldest and most enduring heroes would now be considered antiheroes. The Greek Heracles was driven to madness, murdered his family, and upon recovering had to complete a series of tasks to atone for his actions. Theseus, son of Poseidon and slayer of the Minotaur, straight-up abandoned the woman who helped him do it. And we all know what happened to Oedipus, whose life was so messed up he got a complex named after him. 

And this isn’t just limited to Ancient Greece: before he became a god, the Mesoamerican Quetzalcoatl committed suicide after drunkenly sleeping with his sister. The Mesopotamian Gilgamesh – arguably the first hero in literature – began his journey as a slovenly, hedonistic tyrant. Shakespearian heroes were denoted with an equal number of gifts and flaws – the cunning but paranoid Hamlet, the honorable but gullible Othello, the humble but power-hungry MacBeth – which were just as likely to lead to their downfall as to their apotheosis.

There’s probably a definitive cause for our current definition of hero as someone who’s squeaky clean: censorship. With the birth of television and film as we know it, it was, for a time, illegal to depict criminals as protagonists, and law enforcement as antagonists. The perceived morality of mainstream cinema was also strictly monitored, limiting what could be portrayed. Bonnie and Clyde, The Good the Bad and the Ugly, Scarface, The Godfather, Goodfellas, and countless other cinematic staples prove that such policies did not endure, but these censorship laws divorced us, culturally, from the moral complexity of our most resonant heroes. 

Perhaps because of the nature of the medium, literature arguably has never been as infatuated with moral purity as its early cinematic and T.V. counterparts. From the Byronic male love interests of the Bronte sisters, to “Doctor” Frankenstein (that little college dropout never got a PhD), to Dorian Grey, to Anna Karenina, to Scarlett O’Hara, to Holden Caulfield, literature seems to thrive on morally and emotionally complex individuals and situations. Superman punching a villain and saving Lois Lane is compelling television, but doesn’t make for a particularly thought-provoking read. 

It is also worth noting, however, that what we now consider to be universal moral standards were once met with controversy: Superman’s story and real name – Kal El – are distinctly Jewish, in which his doomed parents were forced to send him to an uncertain future in a foreign culture. Captain America punching Nazis now seems like a no-brainer, but at the time it was not a popular opinion, and earned his Jewish creators a great deal of controversy. So in a manner of speaking, some of the most morally upstanding heroes are also antiheroes, in that they defied society’s rules. 

This brings us to our concluding point: that anti-heroes can be morally good. The complex and sometimes tragic heroes of old, and today’s antiheroes, are not necessarily immoral, but must often make difficult choices, compromises, and sacrifices. They are flawed, fallible, and can sometimes lead to their own downfall. But sometimes, they triumph, and we can cheer them for it. This is what makes their stories so powerful, so relatable, and so necessary to the fabric of our culture. So without further ado, let’s have a look at some of pop-culture’s most interesting antiheroes, and what makes them so damn compelling. 

Note:  For the purposes of this essay, we will only be looking at male antiheroes. Because the hero’s journey is traditionally so male-oriented, different standards of subversiveness, morality, and heroism apply to female protagonists, and the antiheroine deserves an article all her own.

Antiheroes show us the negative effects of systematic inequalities (and what they can do to gifted people.) 

As demonstrated by: Tommy Shelby from Peaky Blinders.

Why he could be a hero: He’s incredibly charismatic, intelligent, and courageous. He deeply cares for his loved ones, has a strict code of honor, reacts violently to the mistreatment of innocents, and demonstrates surprisingly high levels of empathy. 

Why he’s an antihero: He also happens to be a ruthless, incredibly violent crime lord who regularly slashes out his enemies’ eyes. 

What he can teach us: From the moment Tommy Shelby makes his entrance, it becomes apparent that Peaky Blinders will not unfold like the archetypical crime drama. Evocative of the outlaw mythos of the Old West, Tommy rides across a smoky, industrialized landscape. He is immaculately dressed, bareback, on a magnificent black horse. A rogue element, his presence carries immediate power, causing pedestrians to hurriedly clear a path. You get the sense that he does not conform to this time or era, nor does he abide by the rules of society.

The ONLY acceptable way to introduce a protagonist.

Set in the decades between World War I and II, Peaky Blinders differentiates itself from its peers, not just because of its distinctive, almost Shakespearian style of storytelling, powerful visual style, and use of contemporary music, but also in the manner in which it shows that society provokes the very criminality it attempts to vanquish. Moreover, it dedicates time to demonstrating why this form of criminality is sometimes the only option for success in an unfair system. When the law wants to keep you relegated to the station in which you were born, success almost inevitably means breaking the rules. Tommy is considered one of the most influential characters of the decade because of the manner in which he embodies this phenomenon, and the reason why antiheroes pervade folklore across the decades.

Peaky Blinders engenders a unique level of empathy within its first episodes, in which we are not just immersed in the glamour of the gangster lifestyle, but we understand the background that provoked it. Tommy, who grew up impoverished and discriminated against due to his “didicoy” Romany background, volunteered to fight for his country, and went to war as a highly intelligent, empathetic young man. He returned with the knowledge that the country he had served had essentially used him and others like him as canon fodder, with no regard for their lives, well-being, or future. Such veterans were often looked down upon or disregarded by a society eager to forget the war. Having served as a tunneler – regarded to be the worst possible position in a war already beset by unprecedented brutality – Tommy’s constant proximity to death not only destroyed his faith in authority, but also his fear of mortality. This absence of fear and deference, coupled with his incredible intelligence, ambition, ruthlessness, and strategic abilities, makes him a dangerous weapon, now pointed at the very society that constructed him to begin with. 

It is also difficult to critique Tommy’s criminality, when we take into account that society would have completely stifled him if he had abided by its rules. As someone of Romany heritage, he was raised in abject poverty, and never would have been admitted into situations of higher social class. Even at his most powerful, we see the disdain his colleagues have at being obligated to treat him as an equal. In one particularly powerful scene, he begins shoveling horse manure, explaining that, “I’m reminding myself of what I’d be if I wasn’t who I am.” If he hadn’t left behind society’s rules, his brilliant mind would be occupied only with cleaning stables.

However, the necessity of criminality isn’t depicted as positive: it is one of the greatest tragedies of the narrative that society does not naturally reward the most intelligent or gifted, but instead rewards those born into positions of unjust privilege, and those who are willing to break the rules with intelligence and ruthlessness. Each year, the trauma of killing, nearly being killed, and losing loved ones makes Tommy’s PTSD increasingly worse, to the point at which he regularly contemplates suicide. Cillian Murphy has remarked that Tommy gets little enjoyment out of his wealth and power, doing what he does only for his family and “because he can.” Steven Knight cites the philosophy of Francis Bacon as a driving force behind Tommy’s psychology: “Since it’s all so meaningless, we might as well be extraordinary.” 

This is further complicated when it becomes apparent that the upper class he’s worked so arduously to join is not only ruthlessly exclusionary, but also more corrupt than he’s ever been. There are no easy answers, no easy to pinpoint sources of societal or personal issues, no easy divisibility of positive and negative. This duality is something embraced by the narrative, and embodied by its protagonist. An intriguingly androgynous figure, Tommy emulated the strength and tenacity of the women in his life, particularly his mother; however, he also internalized her application of violence, even laughing about how she used to beat him with a frying pan. His family is his greatest source of strength and his greatest weakness, often exploited by his enemies who realize they cannot fall back on his fear of mortality. He feels emotions more strongly than the other characters, and ironically must numb himself to the world around him in order to cope with it.

However, all hope is not lost. Creator Steven Knight has stated that his hope is ultimately to redeem Tommy, so by the show’s end he is “a good man doing good things.” There are already whispers of what this may look like: as an MP, Tommy cares for Birmingham and its citizens far more than any “legitimate” politicians, meeting with them personally to ensure their needs are met; as of last season, he attempted a Sinatra-style assassination of a rising fascist simply because it was the right thing to do. “Goodness” is an option in the world of Peaky Blinders; the only question is what form it will take on a landscape plagued by corruption at every turn. 

Regardless of what form his “redemption” might take, it’s negligible that Tommy will ever meet all the criteria of an archetypal hero as we understand it today. He is far more evocative of the heroes of Ancient Greece, of the Old West, of the Golden Age of Piracy, of Feudal Japan – ferocious, magnitudinous figures who move and make the earth turn with them, who navigate the ever-changing landscapes of society and refuse to abide by its rules, simultaneously destructive and life-affirming. And that’s what makes him so damn compelling.

Who needs traditional morality, when you look this damn good?

Other examples: 

Alfie Solomons from Peaky Blinders. Tommy’s friend and sometimes mortal enemy, the two develop an intriguing, almost romantic connection due to their shared experiences of oppression and powerful intellects. Steven Knight has referred to Alfie as “the only person Tommy can really talk to,” possibly because he is Tommy’s only intellectual equal, resulting in a strange form of spiritual matrimony between the two.

Omar Little from The Wire, an oftentimes tender and compassionate man who cares deeply for his loved ones, and does his best to promote morality and idealism in a society which offers him few viable methods of doing so. He may rob drug dealers at gunpoint, but he also refuses to harm innocents, dislikes swearing, and views his actions as a method of decreasing crime in the area. 

Chiron from Moonlight, a sensitive and empathetic young man who became a drug dealer because society had provided him with virtually no other options for self-sustenance. The same could be said for Chiron’s mentor and father figure, Juan, a kind and nurturing man who is also a drug dealer. 

To a lesser extent, Tony from The Sopranos, and other fictional Italian American gangsters. The Sopranos often negotiates the roots of mob culture as a response to  inequalities, while also holding its characters accountable for their actions by pointing out that Tony and his ilk are now rich and privileged and face little systematic discrimination.

Walter White from Breaking Bad – an underpaid, chronically disrespected teacher who has to work two jobs and still can’t afford to pay for medical treatment. More on him on the next page. 

Antiheroes show us how we can be the villains. 

As demonstrated by: Walter White from Breaking Bad. 

Why he could be a hero: He’s a brilliant, underappreciated chemist whose work contributed to the winning of a Nobel Prize. He’s also forging his own path in the face of incredible adversity, and attempting to provide for his family in the event of his death.

Why he’s an antihero: In his pre-meth days, Walt failed to meet the exceptionalism associated with heroes, as a moral but socially passive underachiever living an unremarkable life. At the end of his transformation, he is exceptional at what he does, but has completely lost his moral standards.

What he can teach us: G.K. Chesterton wrote, “Fairy tales do not tell children that the dragons exist. Children already know that dragons exist. Fairy tales tell children the dragons can be killed.” Following this analogy, it is equally important that our stories show us we, ourselves, can be the dragon. Or the villain, to be more specific, because being a dragon sounds strangely awesome.

Walter White of Breaking Bad is a paragon of antiheroism for a reason: he subverts almost every traditional aspect of heroism. From the opening shots of Walt careening along in an RV, clad in tighty whities and a gas mask, we recognize that he is neither physically capable, nor competent in the manner we’ve come to expect from our heroes. He is not especially conventionally attractive, nor are women particularly drawn to him. He does not excel at his career or garner respect. As the series progresses, Walt does develop the competence, confidence, courage, and resilience we expect of heroes, but he is no longer the moral protagonist: he is self-motivated, vindictive, and callous. And somehow, he still remains identifiable, which is integral to his efficacy.

But let us return to the beginning of the series, and talk about how, exactly, Walt subverts our expectations from the get-go. Walt is the epitome of an everyman: he’s fifty years old, middle class, passive, and worried about identifiable problems – his health, his bills, his physically disabled son, and his unborn baby. Whereas Tommy Shelby’s angelic looks, courage, and intellect subvert our preconceptions about what a criminal can be, Walt’s initial unremarkability subverts our preconceptions about who can be a criminal. The hook of the series is the idea that a man so chronically average could make and distribute meth.

Just because an audience is hooked by a concept, however, does not mean that they’ll necessarily continue watching. Breaking Bad could have easily veered into ludicrosity, if it weren’t for another important factor: character. Walt is immediately and intensely relatable, and he somehow retains our empathy for the entirety of the series, even at his least forgivable.

When we first meet Walt, his talents are underappreciated, he’s overqualified for his menial jobs, chronically disrespected by everyone around him, underpaid, and trapped in a joyless, passionless life in which the highlight of his day is a halfhearted handjob from his distracted wife. And to top it all off? He has terminal lung cancer. Happy birthday, Walt.

We root for him for the same reason we root for Dumbo, Rudolph, Harry Potter: he’s an underdog. The odds are stacked against him, and we want to see him triumph. Which is why it’s cathartic, for us and for Walt, when he finally finds a profession in which he can excel – even if that profession is the ability to manufacture incredibly high-quality meth. His former student Jesse Pinkman – a character so interesting that there’s a genuine risk he’ll hijack this essay – appreciates his skill, and this early appreciation is what makes his relationship with Jesse feel so much more genuine than Walt’s relationship with his family, even as their dynamic becomes increasingly unhealthy and Walt uses Jesse to bolster his meth business and his ego. This deeply dysfunctional but heartfelt father-son connection is Walt’s tether to humanity as he becomes increasingly inhumane, while also demonstrating his descent from morality. It has been pointed out that one can gauge how far-gone Walt is from his moral ideals by how much Jesse is suffering.

But to return to the initial point, it is imperative that we first empathize with Walt in order to adequately understand his descent. Aside from the fact that almost all characters are more interesting if the audience can or wants to empathize with them, Walt’s relatability makes it easy to understand our own potential for toxic and destructive behaviors. We are the protagonist of our own story, but we aren’t necessarily its hero.

Similarly, we understand how easily we can justify destructive actions, and how quickly reasonable feelings of anger and injustice swerve into self-indulgent vindication and entitlement. Walt claims to be cooking meth to provide for his family, and this may be partially true; but he also denies financial help from his rich friends out of spite, and admits later to his wife Skylar that he primarily did it for himself because he was good at it and “it made (him) feel alive.”

This also forces us to examine our preconceptions, and essentially do Walt’s introspections for him: whereas Peaky Blinders emphasize the fact that Tommy and his family would never have been able to achieve prosperity by obeying society’s laws, Walt feels jilted out of success he was promised by a meritocratic system that doesn’t currently exist. He has essentially achieved our current understanding of the American dream – a house with a pool, a beautiful wife and family, an honest job – but it left him unable to provide for his wife and children or even pay for his cancer treatment. He’s also unhappy and alienated from his passions and fellow human beings. With this in mind, it’s understandable – if absurd – that the only way he can attain genuine happiness and excel is through becoming a meth cook. In this way, Breaking Bad is both a scathing critique of our current society, and a haunting reminder that there’s not as much standing between ourselves and villainy as we might like to believe.  

So are we all slaves to this system of entitlement and resentment, of shattered and unfulfilling dreams? No, because Breaking Bad provides us with an intriguing and vital counterpoint: Jesse Pinkman. Whereas Walt was bolstered with promises that he was gifted and had a bright future ahead of him, Jesse was assured by every authority figure in his life that he would never amount to anything. However, Jesse proves himself skilled at what he’s passionate about: art, carpentry, and of course, cooking meth. Whereas Walt perpetually rationalizes and shirks responsibility, Jesse compulsively takes responsibility, even for things that weren’t his fault. Whereas Walt found it increasingly acceptable to endanger or harm bystanders, Jesse continuously worked to protect innocents – especially children – from getting hurt. Though Jesse suffered immensely throughout the course of the show – and the subsequent movie, El Camino – the creators say that he successfully made it to Alaska and started a carpentry business. Some theorists have supposed that Jesse might be a Jesus allegory – a carpenter who suffers for the sins of others. Regardless of whether this is true, it is interesting, and amusing to imagine Jesus using the word “bitch” so often. Though he didn’t get the instant gratification of immediate success that Walt got, he was able to carve (no pun intended – carpentry, you know) a place for himself in the world. 

Jesse isn’t a perfect person, but he reminds us that improving ourselves and creating a better life is an option, even if Walt’s rise to power was more initially thrilling. So take heart: there’s a bit of Heisenberg in all of us, but there’s also a bit of Jesse Pinkman. 

The savior we all need, but don’t deserve.

Other examples:

Bojack from Bojack Horseman. Like Walt, the audience can’t help but empathize with Bojack, understand his decision-making, and even see ourselves in him. However, the narrative ruthlessly demonstrates the consequences of his actions, and shows us how negatively his selfishness and self-destructive qualities impact others.   

Again, Tony Soprano. Tony, even at his very worst, is easy to like and empathize with. Despite his position as a mafia Godfather, he’s unfailingly human. Which makes the destruction caused by his actions all the more resonant.

Antiheroes emphasize the absurdity of contemporary culture (and how we must operate in it.)

As demonstrated by: Marty Byrde from Ozark.

Why he could be a hero: He’s a loving father who ultimately just wants to provide for and ensure the safety of his family. He’s also fiercely intelligent, with excellent negotiative, interpersonal, and strategic skills that allows him to talk his way out of almost any situation without the use of violence.

Why he’s an antihero: He launders money for a ruthless drug cartel, and has no issue dipping his toes into various illegal activities.

Why he’s compelling: Marty is an antihero of the modern era. He has a remarkable ability to talk his way into or out of any situation, and he’s also a master of using a pre-constructed system of rules and privileges to his benefit.

In the very first episode, he goes from literally selling the American Dream, to avoiding murder at the hands of a ruthless drug cartel by planning to launder money for them in the titular Ozarks. Despite his long history of dabbling in illegality, Marty has no firearms – a questionable choice for someone on the run from violent drug kingpins, but a testament to his ability to rely on his oratory skills and nothing else. He doesn’t hesitate to engage an apparently violent group of hillbillies to request the return of his stolen cash, because he knows he can talk them into giving it back to him. The only time he engages other characters in physical violence, he immediately gets pummeled, because physical altercation has never been his form of currency. Not that he’s subjected to physical violence particularly often, either: Marty is a master of the corporate landscape, which makes him a master of the criminal landscape. He is brilliant at avoiding the consequences of his actions. 

It’s easy to like and admire Marty for his cleverness, for being able to escape from apparently impermeable situations with words as his only weapon. He’s got a reassuring, dad-ly sort of charisma that immediately endears the viewer, and offers respite from the seemingly endless threats coming from every direction. He unquestionably loves his family, including his adulterous wife. As such, it’s easy to forget that Marty is being exploited by the same system that exploits all of us: crony capitalism. The polar opposite of meritocratic capitalism – in which success is based on hard work, ingenuity, and, hence the name, merit – crony capitalism benefits only the conglomerates that plague the global landscape like cancerous warts, siphoning money off of workers and natural capital, keeping them indentured with basic necessities and the idle promise of success.

Marty isn’t benefiting from his hard work in the Ozarks. Everything he makes goes right back to the drug cartel who continuously threatens the life of him and his family. He is rewarded for his efforts with a picturesque house, a boat, and the appearance of success, but he is not allowed to keep the fruits of his labor. Marty may be an expert at navigating the corporate and criminal landscape, but it still exploits him. In this manner, Marty embodies both the American business, the American worker, and a sort of inversion of the American dream.

In this same manner, Marty, the other characters, and even the Ozarks themselves embody the modern dissonance between appearance and reality. Marty’s family looks like something you’d respect to see on a Christmas card from your DILF-y, successful coworker, but it’s bubbling with dysfunctionality. His wife is cheating on him with a much-older man, and instead of confronting her about it, he first hired a private investigator and then spent weeks rewatching the footage, paralyzed with options and debating what to do. The problem somewhat solves itself when his wife’s lover is unceremoniously murdered by the cartel, and Wendy and Marty are driven into a sort of matrimonial business partnership motivated by the shared interest of protecting their children, but this also further demonstrates how corporate even their family dealings have become. His children, though precocious, are forced to contend with age-inappropriate levels of responsibility and the trauma of sudden relocation, juxtaposed with a childhood of complete privilege up until this point.

Conversely, the shadow of the Byrde family is arguably the Langmores. Precocious teenagers Ruth and Wyatt can initially be shrugged off as local hillbillies and budding con-artists, but much like the Shelby family of the Peaky Blinders, they prove to be extremely intelligent individuals suffering beneath a society that doesn’t care about their stifled potential. Systemic poverty is a bushfire that spreads from one generation to the next, stoked by the prejudices of authority figures and abusive parental figures who refuse to embrace change out of a misguided sense of class-loyalty. 

Almost every other character we meet eventually inverts our expectations of them: from the folksy, salt-of-the-earth farmers who grow poppies for opium and murder more remorselessly than the cartel itself, to the cookie-cutter FBI agent whose behavior becomes increasingly volatile and chaotic, to the heroin-filled Bibles handed out by an unknowing preacher, to the secrets hidden by the lake itself, every detail conveys corruption hidden behind a postcard-pretty picture of tranquility and success.

Marty’s awareness of this illusion, and what lurks behind it, is perhaps the greatest subversion of all. Marty knows that the world of appearance and the world of reality coexist, and he was blessed with a natural talent for navigating within the two. Like Walter White, Marty makes us question our assumptions about who a criminal can be – despite the fact that many successful, attractive, middle-aged family men launder money and juggle criminal activities, it’s still jarring to witness, which tells us something about how image informs our understanding of reality. Socially privileged, white-collar criminals simply have more control over how they’re portrayed than an inner-city gang, or impoverished teenagers. However, unlike Walt, Marty’s criminal activities are not any kind of middle-aged catharsis: they’re a way of life, firmly ingrained in the corporate landscape. They were present long before he arrived on the scene, and he knows it. He just has to navigate them. 

Just like our shining, messianic heroes can teach us about truth, justice, and the American way, so too does each antihero have something to teach us: they teach us that society doesn’t reward those who follow its instructions, nor does it often provide an avenue of morality. Even if you live a life devoid of apparent sin, every privilege is paid for by someone else’s sacrifice. But the best antiheroes are not beacons of nihilism – they show us the beauty that can emerge from even the ugliest of situations. Peaky Blinders is, at its core, a love story between Tommy Shelby and the family he crawled out of his grave for, just as Breaking Bad is ultimately a deeply dysfunctional tale of a father figure and son. Ozark, like its predecessors, is about family – the only authenticity in a society that operates on deception, illusion, and corruption. They teach us that even in the worst times and situations, love can compel us, redeem us, bind us closer together. Only then can we face the dragons of life, and feel just a bit more heroic.

Other examples:

Don Draper from Mad Men. A similarly Shakespearian figure for the modern era, Don is a man who appears to have everything – perfect looks, a beautiful wife and children, a prestigious job. He could have stepped out of an ad for the American Dream. And yet, he feels disconnected from his life, isolated from others by the very societal rules he, as a member of the ad agency, helps to propagate. It helps that he’s literally leading a borrowed life, inherited from the stolen identity of his deceased fellow soldier, and was actually an impoverished, illegitimate farmboy whose childhood abuse permanently damaged his ability to form relationships. The Hopper-esque alienation evoked by the world of Mad Men really deserves an essay all it’s own, and his wife Betty – whose Stepford-level mask of cheerful subservience hides seething unhappiness and unfulfilled potential – is a particularly intriguing figure to explore. Maybe in my next essay, on the importance of the antiheroine.

[marchioness-caprina]

You Like Me Not?

{ Final Part }

Pairings : Takami Keigo ( Hawks) x Reader

Writing Style : 3rd Person

Warning : Cussing, Stalker Tendencies, Toxic Tendencies.

Word Count : 2947

Read; { Part 1 } , { Part 2 }

3rd Person's POV

A month has Passed. Yes a whole Month has passed and y/n was surprisingly doing well; in the surface at least.

Inside. Not so well but at least she's coping up a lot better than a few weeks ago where she'd often cry herself to sleep, even in the showers. The lingering pain was still haunting her like there's no tomorrow but now she's getting used to it.

After all, First love is usually the greatest and the most painful experience.

Instead of moping around and sulking, she began investing her time and effort into being a Hero. And the effort paid off greatly; her performance was improving and she's proud to say that she's on par with the top three of the class which mainly consists of Izuku, Todoroki and Bakugou.

She was finally getting the attention that she deserved, plus it takes her mind off of Keigo and his jerkass.

However, at the end of the day she felt so empty and devoid of something---someone she longs for. And she will never accept that it was Keigo she was looking for.

But she needs to stay strong and let go of those people who can't even appreciate the little things she does; she won't let them bring her down. No, not when she's finally seeing something big for her up ahead.

Unfortunate as the saying goes ; All good things will come to an end. And for y/n, that is today.

Their class was split in groups for an Activity. Y/n along with Kirishima and Mina and Izuku were paired up to patrol the busy part of the city where crimes are mostly committed.

And guess who their Hero guide is? Yup one of them is Hawks and the other one is Enchanting.

Y/n who had a smile on her face seemed calm on first approach but inside she was cussing her heart out for the terrible luck she's got.

It had to be two of her worst nightmare. How charming.

" You Kids doing fine back there? " Keigo asked, his eyes never leading the road and beside him was a bored looking enchantress.

The two were their Hero guides for today and everyone was ecstatic. Except for y/n.

" Yeah we're good! " Kirishima answered for everyone and y/n was thankful that she didn't have to exchange a few unnecessary words with Hawks.

Her attention was now caught by the Broccoli boy right next to her who was vigorously writing notes down on his notebook.

" Oh my gosh it's the Pro Hero Hawks " Izuku was becoming a mumbling mess as He continued to scribble. His pace was a beyond anyone y/n had ever seen and she was very much intrigued by Izuku's unwavering determination.

" You know Midoriya-san, you're actually really handsome up close" Y/n muttered and izuku froze on the spot; heat rising up his cheeks as he tensed. Slowly he turned to see the h/c haired girl who was smiling at him tenderly.

" I-I-I... Umm... T-Thank you Y/n-san... A-and... You're really handsome too.... W-wait I mean n-not handsome because you aren't a g-guy w-what I meant to say was... P-pretty.... You're really pretty" Izuku gushed out and as much as y/n tried to contain her laughter she couldn't keep a straight face and began laughing at Izuku's Adorable antics.

Izuku was going red due to his rising embarrassment as he began to stutter out another list of explanation why he accidentally said it.

But their little conversation didn't go unnoticed by Keigo and Enchanting.

" Wow, she moves Fast. Better try Harder Birdy. As far as I see it; she's sick of you and look she's a boy magnet. You're gonna lose if you keep this up " Enchantress casually gave her comment and Hawks gave her a narrowed look.

" Shut up miss ' I'm a hundred years old' you better hope she'll be mine by the end of the day, I've pulled a lot of strings to get her here and it ain't easy " Hawks kept a calm expression; his lips tugging up into a smirk as he continued " This was your fault to begin with. If I can't win her over today.... Well you're gonna get wrinkles starting tomorrow. I'm not a very forgiving fellow"

" We'll see Hawks... We'll see "

" Oh, we Will "

" Hey! You two lovebirds better stop flirting and Tell Kirishima here that Cats are better than Dogs! " Mina exclaimed and with how loud her voice was; she caught everyone's attention within her first attempt.

" I told you Mina, Dogs are Manly. And they earned the title of Man's Best friend. They're dedicated and Loyal but I wanna know who you guys will vote for" Kirishima replied as he glanced back at the still very flustered Izuku and A Smiling y/n.

" W-well.... I think I prefer Dogs than Cats... Sorry Mina " Izuku gave Mina an apologetic smile as Mina pouted before turning to y/n.

" Come on y/n you gotta be on my side on this one " Mina pleaded and Kirishima pulled her away.

" That's cheating Mina, don't pull the pity card on Y/n. That's so not Manly... But.. Well which do you prefer y/n? "

" Hmm... Well... I----"

" I vote for Birds. I heard Birds are very reliable companions miss y/n. I assume that you feel the same way? " Enchantress piped in and y/n gave her a raised brow but she managed to catch on to what enchantress was saying.

" Oh? Well I understand the reason why you Like Birds Enchantress; I do too... Well I used to anyways but to answer your question I prefer Dogs... Sorry Mina. I like how a Dog will be loyal to you till the very end"

" Hmm? So you're saying Birds aren't Loyal? " Enchantress chimed and y/n's chuckle made Kirishima, Mina and Izuku shudder.

Her laugh was cold and forced; her eyes landed on Enchantress and a teasing smirk was now displayed on her face.

" Well Enchantress, Upon Personal experiences... Then my Answer is No. Birds aren't Loyal at All" Everyone shivered at her response simply because y/n had took the risk of jumping straight onto a landmine. Because Hawks had a bird based Quirk.

The temperature dropped to negative and even enchantress seemed to be affected by the sudden change of the atmosphere.

" Really Now? You wound me Baby Bird " Keigo's smile was passive aggressive and y/n didn't hesitate to return it.

" Don't call me That Hawks. And stop acting like you know me"

" I'm very Hurt by your words... Especially about your opinion on Birds. I for one am very Loyal "

" Nah, I Love dogs but I also like Bunnies... Take izuku for example. He's cute, shy and smart like a Bunny. Not Cunning, Manipulative and Sly Like a... Hawk" Y/n countered as she placed her Hand on top of Izuku's Head petting him gently.

Her action made a growl rip itself from Keigo's Throat and everyone froze at his aggressive reaction.

" Sure, I may be Cunning, Manipulative and Sly... But you forgot one thing Baby Bird "

" And what is it Hawks? "

" Hawks are Birds of Prey... And They are Very Possessive " Keigo answered, his Fetagers began to Bristow and sharpen; eyes trained on y/n's figure as he slightly lowered his stance.

" Huh? Why would I need to know tha------ahhhhh! " A scream was heard as y/n disappeared from her place as well as Hawks.

Unfortunately she was brisked away by the said Hero at A speed far top fast for the human eyes to follow.

" What the!? " Kirishima , Izuku and Mina who were knocked down on the ground after the Aerial impact of the winged hero were stunned as they frantically looked around for their Female Classmate who had vanished into thin air.

" Let them Be kids " Enchantress muttered as she gestured for the teens to follow her.

" B-but--!".

" Let. Them. Be..... Seriously I don't want to have any wrinkles because of that damn Cocky Hawks .... So let them be or else "

________________

" Hawks! Put me Down! " Y/n demanded, she was brisked away and slung onto his shoulders like a bag of potatoes and now Hawks was flying away and note that they are far from the ground.

" As you wish"

Y/n could practically feel the smirk in his voice and her heart dropped along with her body as she screamed for bloody murder because Hawks was being a Jerk and dropped her in Mid-air.

" Keiiiiigooooo! " Her scream was more of a threat and after 15 seconds of falling in Mid-air she was once again brisked away by the winged Hero who was smirking at her.

" God... I missed it so much when you used to call me by my name and not ' Hawks ' or ' Takami' " Keigo chuckled as he faced the girl who was holding onto him for dear life.

" Ah... Shit I almost died" Y/n hissed as she began shifting in her position, her legs were tightly wrapped around Keigo's Torso, her arms had snaked themselves around his neck and don't even get him started on how hard she was pushing her body against his.

" Easy baby Bird. Don't. Be too feisty with me... I might lose control " Keigo whispered bit he was met with a scowl.

" What is wrong with you? Can't you just leave me alone? If you think this is funny well it's not. I don't want to see or even hear you" Y/n spat out as her heart began pounding in her ribcage from both the adrenaline and embarrassment .

Hawks didn't answer and just gave her an intimidating glare that almost had her shrinking and burying her face on his chest.... Almost.

" Sure you don't want to see me... But really? Leeching yourself on every single boy who comes near you? You're driving me crazy Little Bird. I almost became a serial murderer because of you... Picture this... Pro hero Hawks; the first Hero to Murder a student because of Jealousy " Keigo bitterly laughed .

" Keigo... What the fuck are you saying? ---"

" I'm not done venting!, you think it's fun to mess with my head? Where the fuck were you over the past few weeks?! Seeing another man? While I stayed in my office drinking a huge load of bullshit? Driving myself crazy in that room anticipating when you'd show up again!? And now....now you have the guts to flirt with another man right in front of me " Keigo was pouring out all of his frustration right in front of her and he was far from being finished.

" For a moment there I almost considered the possibility of becoming a murderer... Just because he touched my Girl... He stole your attention away from me... I fucking waited and I resisted the urge to fucking drag you to the nearest alleyway y/n----"

" Cut to the fucking chase Keigo! "

" I Love you y/n! That's what I was trying to say Baby Bird. I Fucking Love you! " Keigo panted out and Y/n was more than speechless.

She didn't know what to feel, she didn't know how to react. After all that? And the effort she made to move on... Now... Now he's being so difficult and telling her he love her?!.

" Keigo, if you think a bullshit excuse like that is enough then you're wrong! Have you had any idea how hard and painful it was for me? How much I had to endure became I loved you? Damn well you don't and you don't have the right to slap this shit right in front of me you bastard! I cried myself to sleep and... And... You... ---" She couldn't finish her sentence when tears began to flood her eyes and was now cascading down her flushed cheeks.

She began sobbing and hitting Keigo's chest which has done absolutely zero no no damage at all.

Keigo's only response was to hold her in place and tighten his arms around her waist; letting her vent.

Of course he was awful to her. He was one hell of a fucking idiot to do this to the woman he loves.

He told her everything, it was true. He barely had any decent sleep and worked his ass off while waiting for her return. He didn't want to carry that habit of being an obsessive stalker. Of course he didn't tell her about how he had stalked her multiple times, he didn't want to scare her. But all of it was true. Including the jealousy part.

" I'm sorry Y/n....i really am--"

" Sorry ain't cutting shit you Jerk! Just when I'm moving on you stomp your way back in! "

" No y/n....don't ever move on. Stay here with me... I know this may sound toxic and shitty as fuck but hear me out... I know it hurts but bare with me... Don't move on.. Stay even if it hurts.. Don't leave me and give me every thing of who you are... No matter how painful it is "

" You selfish prick! Do you realize how greedy you sound! You fucking maniac! "

" I know! I know... But all my life I've been deprived of everything I actually wanted.. I was told to be this and not that... I never had the chance to actually have what I want so please y/n....allow me to be selfish when it comes to you... Let me be greedy and give me You. I don't care if I'm selfish because I'm only selfish when it comes to you.... So please. Beat me up, hit me, stab me... I don't care but just don't Leave me" Keigo growled; angry at his words and his selfish desires bit he couldn't help it.

Y/n who was still sobbing her heart out was listening to every word he had uttered. She fought back the idea of actually giving him a chance. She knew Keigo was sick to the bone but she's even worst knowing that this type of guy had attracted her and lured her to love him.

How... Why is she so soft when it comes to him? Is this how love really is? Because if it is... Then she doesn't give a shit. She wants him too. But she isn't going to make it any easier for him. If he wants her then he better earn her, No more miss nice y/n.

And He wanted her... He needed her and he isn't just about to let her go. He'll hunt her down even in hell.

" Keigo... You.... Ugh... I... Shit... "

" Is it working y/n...am I winning you over? "

" Only because I loved you Keigo you prick "

" Correction You still Love me...so be my girlfriend?"

" Whatever. Just so you know, I'm not saying yes to your proposal. You gotta earn me you fucking retard and it isn't going to be easy"

" I knew you were going to say something like that. And yes I'm ready to make those sacrifices for you, Just... No boys " Keigo smirked as he cradled the girl in his arms.

She still had her arms wrapped around his neck as he landed on one of the very few skyscrapers in the city.

" No can do Keigo... Your Baby Bird here is a Boy Magnet---" Upon seeing how fast Keigo's demeanor had shifted to something more gruesome she shut up immediately and nodded her head.

" You too Chicken wings... No girls for you"

" No can do, your Bird man here is a lady magnet " Keigo smirked returning her words at her.

Y/n rolled her eyes and reached her hand up to paw on his blonde hair; giving them a harsh yank but before she pulled him down, her lips meeting his in a rough and demanding kiss to avoid any form of kinky retort from Hawks.

Keigo immediately responded and took full control of dominance as his lips moved in sync with hers. Rough and passionate, but unfortunately Keigo was getting a little bit handsy; his hands made its way towards her thigh giving it a harsh squeeze but before he could do anything else she pulled away covering his mouth with her hands when he tried to catch her lips again.

" Nuh uh Keigo. We're Going slow "

" Ugh... Nice job being a Kill Joy Kid...tsk.."

" Fuck you Keigo"

" Why don't you do it yourself you Coward "

" Oh I will Keigo "

" Really? I don't mind breeding you right here if you wan---"

" Eww Keigo shut up. I was kidding. I want to be a Hero before becoming a Mom"

" Yeah, Good luck with that because I think you're gonna be a momma anytime soon because you said Yes to Me"

" I didn't say jack shit like that Keigo" Y/n snapped as she began squirming in his hold with Keigo chuckling and laughing at her poor attempt.

" Relax. I was Kidding-- "

" Thank Goodness for a moment there I actually thought you we---"

" Maybe "

" Keigo! "

End~? ♡...............

[figonas]

Twilight Re-watch Notes Pt. 1 - A Contest for the Worst Movie Quote in History

I'd like to think I'm funny so please enjoy my scene-by-scene notes from a recent Twilight Saga re-watch.

Hey Catherine Hardwicke, opening with the death of an animal was probably not the best choice but go off I guess??

There is a lot of general Bella awkwardness that I'm skipping over here but the scene in gym class is so horrifically, painfully uncomfortable that I almost passed out from the second-hand embarrassment.

Jessica trying her best to be fake nice to the human embodiment of a crumpled soda can: "Aren't people from Arizona like....really tan"

Bella with all the cadence of a child who just found out Santa isn't real: "yeah..I guess that's why they kicked me out"

Mike clearly just trying to get his dick wet: "HAHAH you are funny"

no mike she is not.

I'm not gonna go into the biology class scene because god knows tumblr has beaten that particular horse to death. BUT the scene in the administration office immediately after that is a TRIP. Edward has one of his most dramatic lines here when they won't let him switch classes: “I’ll just have to endure it” ?!?!?!?!?!?! This is INSANITY, he sounds like he's going to burst into tears like Edward please chill you aren't even being a little subtle.

I will never get over Bella trying to put Ketchup on her burger and then just???? giving up???? when it doesn't come out after she limply shakes it approximately once.

“HOW YOU LIKIN DA RAIN GIRL” Is our first contender for the worst and most unnatural line in movie history, and trust me there are plenty more.

Bella accusatorily saying “you were gone” to Edward as if this dude who she met for approximately 30 minutes 2 weeks ago owes her even a PALTRTY SCRAP of an explanation about anything???????

Actually, this whole scene is a horrific nightmare of awkward intrusive conversation:

“You’re asking me about the weather” HOE WHAT ELSE ARE YOU GONNA TALK ABOUT YOU DON’T KNOW EACH OTHER

“hey did you get contacts” WHO JUST ASKS THAT?!?

and of course; “it’s the fluorescents” [RUNS AWAY]

Charlie and Bella have the only organic-sounding dialogue in the entire movie. Any awkwardness they have is BELIEVABLE father-daughter awkwardness and not like "I'm being forced to film this against my will" awkwardness like every other exchange in this film series.

Bella asks Edward ALL OF ONCE about him saving her from the truck and Edward gets so haughty and smug thinking that Bella won't figure it out

“you’re not gonna let this go are you?” “no” “then I hope you enjoy disappointment” [storms off] MY DUDE LITERALLY 2 SCENES LATER SHE FIGURES IT OUT IN 3 GOOGLE CLICKS

“I had an adrenaline rush, it’s very common you can google it” contender number two for the terrible dialogue award.

Edward saying “if you were smart you would stay away from me” AFTER HE APPROACHED HER LIKE FUCK OFF [skeleton throwing its own skull gif]

Kstew got a lot of flack for her performance in this movie but when she has a good partner to exchange lines with she SHINES. The scene with Angela and her at the beach where she tells her to ask Eric to prom is GOOD. EVERY scene with Charlie in THIS ENTIRE FRANCHISE is GOOD. It is nothing but pure misogyny that Rpatz didn’t catch any flack for his truly, horrifically awkward performance

I cannot believe Stephanie thought it would be a good idea to have Edward save Bella from potentially getting gang r*ped like I get it girl is about the drama but still this is just a TOOOUCH too far

“your hand is so cold,” WHO SAYS THIS TO SOMEONE THEY BARELY KNOW COMPLETELY UNPROMPTED???

SHE TRIES TO REFUSE CARRYING BEAR MACE WHEN SHE WAS ALMOST R*PED NOT 4 HOURS PREVIOUSLY LIKE SIS CARRY A KNIFE?!?!?!?!?

The “you’re impossibly fast & strong” monologue is so bad I want to barf

“I’ve killed people before” “doesn’t matter” BITCH YES IT DOES WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU

“MY OWN PERSONAL BRAND OF HEROIN” IS SO BAD. Like we all recognize how bad this is right? Especially when one considered the target demographic for these films, i.e. teenage girls, have NO FUCKING FRAME OF REFERENCE FOR THIS WHAT.SO.EVER.

“And so the lion fell in love with the lamb” YOU’VE KNOWN EACH OTHER FOR ALL OF 3 SECONDS I CAN’T WITH Y'ALL. AT LEAST THE BOOK HAD SOME BUILD-UP JESUS GEEZUS

Who thought this meadow scene was a good idea, they need to be sent straight to hell. WHY ARE THEY LAYING DOWN LIKE, SIT MAYBE?????? IT’S SO WEIRD AND UNNATURAL THEY LOOK LIKE DOLLS I HATE IT

The scene where they get out of the car and Edward puts his arm around Bella while Spotlight by Mutemath plays in the background is TOP TIER teen drama bs and I love it. Far and away the best shot in the movie apart from The Baseball Scene(TM).

I will never get over the fact that Edward's bitch ass rats Bella out for already eating when she comes over to meet his family. BE FUCKING COOL EDWARD FOR ONCE IN YOUR LIFE, GOD!!!

Esme is too pure for this world I can’t deal with her, & Emmet waving the knife is my favorite thing in all 5 of these movies

Why tf are Alice and Jasper fucking off doing god knows what in a tree and not helping with dinner like everyone else? Y'all ain't special even Rosalie is helping

Esme talking to Rosalie “Clean this up..now” I LOVE YOU BE MY MOM

Earlier they talk about the fact that vampires don’t sleep BUT the first thing Bella says when she walks into Edward's room is “no bed” girl we know what you after you ain't slick.....

WHAT IS THIS DANCING SCENE IN HIS BEDROOM IT’S HORRIBLE TO WATCH and I want to find whoever thought “well I could always make you” was a good line for Edward to say and slap them directly in the mouth.

“hold on tight spider monkey” excuse me while I VOMIT

Mike offering his opinion on Bella dating Edward HOWEVER justified is automatically invalidated by A. his own romantic interest in Bella and B. the fact that he has also know Bella for all of 10 minutes & has no bearing on her personal life whatsoever

THE PAST COUPLE OF MONTHS THIS MAN HAS BEEN COMING INTO HER ROOM AND WATCHING HER SLEEP THIS IS RED FLAG CITY LIKE BELLA WATCH A TRUE CRIME DOCUMENTARY OR READ THE NEWS FOR FUCKS SAKE

THIS FRANCHISE HAS THE MOST HORRIBLE KISSING SCENES IN MOVIE HISTORY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YOU CAN HEAR LITERALLY EVERY BREATH, EVERY AWKWARD PRESS OF LIPS. You're telling me THIS was the best take of this???? CAN YOU IMAGINE HOW AWKWARD THIS WAS TO FILM

The whole scene when Bella is telling her dad about her date with Edward is absolutely god tier. Charlie snapping the barrel of the shotgun closed, him motioning that he has a halo on, asking her if she still has her pepper spray. BILLY BURKE LIFTED THIS MOVIE UP AND TRIED SO HARD TO CARRY IT ON HIS BROAD, MUSTACHIOED DAD SHOULDERS, WE STAN

WHERE TO START WITH THE BASEBALL SCENE:

Supermassive Black Hole in the background, Alice going AWF with her pitching, Rosalie getting all pissed when Bella says she's out and Emmett yells "c'mon babe it's just a game" like the puppy dog of a person (vampire?) he is, CARLISLE WEARING A SCARF WHILE PLAYING BASEBALL, I WILL NEVER EMOTIONALLY RECOVER FROM JASPERS BAT TRICKS, EMMET AND EDWARDS LAUGH AFTER CRASHING INTO ONE ANOTHER.

A TRULY IMMACULATE MOVIE SCENE. This scene isn’t long enough

“My monkey man” might be the worst line in this movie, I’m so torn between which one is the worst. Also, I'm just now realizing that this is the second time someone has compared a loved one to some type of monkey and I really don't like it.

Bella's defeated “I can’t hurt him” breaks my heart every time. AND FUCKING BILLY BURKE pulling out his acting chops with Charlie’s poor little broken sounding “I know I’m not that much fun to be around we can do more stuff together” & “I just gotcha back” LIKE LITERALLY EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS SCENE HURTS ME ON A PHYSICAL LEVEL AND I AM ENTITLED TO FINANCIAL COMPENSATION

I know I've skipped over a lot but it's just a lot of like star wipe level montage of nonsense, so we are mOVING ON to what is possibly the biggest plot hole I've never recognized before now: How in the hell was James planning on luring Bella out if he didn’t find that videotape of Bella's mom looking for her????? Or was he just going to bust up in the holiday inn, metaphorical guns blazing & toss Bella out a window???

This fight scene between James & Edward is VERY poorly choreographed and you can practically see the stunt wires pulling on their clothes but no one is surprised..this is Twilight after all.

Who the fuck starts the fire in the ballet studio if Carlisle & Edward are with Bella, Jasper and Emmet are holding James's arms and Alice is ripping his head off???? Esme and Rosalie aren't there so the only explanation is that Emmett's power Stephanie never told us about is his ability to start small, controlled, indoor bonfires with his mind.

If Bella was losing blood from her femoral artery it is HIGHLY UNLIKELY that she would have been cognizant enough to tell them her hand was burning + THERE’S A BIG ASS BITE HOW DID THEY MISS IT???

Let Me Sign is such a good fucking song. Actually, while we're on music every song on every Twilight Saga soundtrack SLAPS. At least 1 department at Summit Entertainment was staffed with competent people. (side note, why the fuck do I know the studio by name that made this movie. I need to go lie down)

Bella acting a damn fool in the hospital bed like clingy much

CHARLIE IS SUCH A GOOD DAD FUCK!

The Edward/Jacob beef is so dramatic at prom can you both chill for 5 minutes we haven't even gotten to y'alls bullshit yet that's not until New Moon.

Bella really thought this mfer was gonna turn her at prom in the middle of the dancefloor??????????

Flightless Bird American Mouth. That's it, that's the bullet point

Victoria coming to prom, like we stan a dramatic bitch.

I will almost CERTAINLY post my New Moon (Extended Edition) notes in a few days. & yes I do have notes on the entire franchise.

[centuriantalevevo]

Draco x Nonbinary Reader

Reader is AMAB, also this contains my headcanons lmao- hella OOC because of that (one of my headcanons, Draco has like.. multiple cousins who are basically on crack /j)

TW: transphobia and enbyphobia, with talk of biphobia. LGBTphobia in general. Misgendering

    5th year is.. Hectic.. Especially for a certain kid, Y/N L/N, who had to deal with a literal pink toad this year. Like.. ew? What made it worse, was they seemed to be the only kid in the school, well Slytherin specifically, that was… Different. Not in the normal, cliche sense, where ‘oh Y/N was drop dead gorgeous but abused by everyone around her, she can sing amazing-’, no. This isn’t your typical x Reader story, Y/N was different in the sense of Identity, Gender, specifically Gender Norms. They seemed to be all alone on this feeling, a feeling of discomfort, a feeling of loneliness despite multiple friends being in the room with them at this moment. They were away from earth, where no words can hurt. Where the erasure cannot get to them.

Oh god did the words hurt.

Oh? What words? You’re about to find out.

    “No, but did you hear some of the bullshit Umbridge was saying?” He asked, he as in the blonde. Draco. Draco Malfoy. “Especially to my cousin-” “You have a cousin?” Pansy asked, “Welcome to the conversation, first time speaking to me?- Yes, you are hella late to the conversation.” Draco groaned, “Now let me get back to the story” “Continue, which cousin? Darla?- Dominic?-” Blaise asked, “No, Jamie..” He responded quickly, “Oh hold on, what did the toad do to Jamie? I swear, if she hURT THAT PRECIOUS CHILD- Gryffindor or not, I love that girl to death” Blaise said quickly, interrupting Draco.

The blonde sighed deeply, “Blaise.. I love you to death but holy shit let me finnish, alright..” He took a breather, Y/N came back from their little world, queuing into the conversation. “Okay, so Umbridge had the AUDACITY to misgender MY COUSIN OVER AND OVER again! Misgendered her, invalidated her, you know that rule about like.. Something distance from the opposite gender? Yeah she’s forcing Jamie, a literal girl, to distance from girls and not guys-” He halted for a second, “No, my bad.. She’s forcing Jamie to stay away from both because she believe that Jamie is gay.. No, Jamie is a whole straight girl..” Draco ranted, “um.. Sorry to interrupt but… Jamie’s a girl? So how was she invalidated?” Y/N asked, tilting their head, Draco’s eyes moved to them, softening some.

    “Oh, you didn’t know? I thought everyone knew. Jamie is trans, she’s a trans girl specifically”

THERE! THERE IT WAS! They weren’t alone now.. There was someone who understood, yet they’d been clueless this whole time.

“I swear I will jack that woman UP” Blaise said lowly and Draco nodded in agreement. “Jamie was CRYING when she came to me, she could barely speak. That poor girl passed out from crying so much. She felt so hurt and the amount of dysphoria she felt was astronomically high.” He sighed, even he wanted to cry. “Like, damn bitch you didn’t have to out yourself as a whole LGBTphobe, you could’ve just stayed quiet and it would cost you nothing yet you chose to mess with a child who is related to the MALFOY family, very smart yes mhmm..” He growled in aggravation “Only merlin knows what she’d do if there was a nonbinary in the school, she’s probably dehumanize them.” He shook his head.

    “I’d commit a hate crime if I’m honest” Dominic said, coming from the stairs of the boys dormitory, “The LGBT had their way for a moment because she hadn’t thought about the gays, bisexuals and lesbians. Well.. the gays and lesbians, I don’t think she thinks Bisexuals exist..” He hummed, “She’s enforced the rule so now Darla can’t be near Daphne, luckily I don’t have a boyfriend.. The one time being single is a good thing.” Dominic dramatically cried.

“I will prove bisexuals exist, damn seems like I gotta stay away from ALL of you, sorry” Draco jokes, but was dead serious at the same time. “Until then, if there are nonbinaries in the school, technically they can by-pass the rules, if they present as masculine one day feminine the next. Or just androgynous to confuse the toad.” Draco then added, “I think I have to stay away from you guys too, shit Bisexuals can’t do ANYTHING” Blaise said, pretending to get up and leave.

So.. the students know of the nonbinary gender…

“Although, no surprise, Snape is always the decent one, along with all the other professors, and respect the trans kids pronouns, I’ve gone into his class to give him something during one of his lessons and heard him deliberately calling out kids that misgendered Jamie, it was amazing. And everyone says Snape is a bad teacher.” Draco says, smiling some at the memory. “Ooo! Speaking of which! While in Umbrdige’s class I think.. A few days ago, Snape actually found out about the incident and told her the fuck off for it-” “Damn, snape really said ‘trans rights are human rights’, go off honestly” Dominic interrupted, Draco nodded “The best look honestly, it was pure bliss watching that.” He responded.

Y/N finally managed to form words. “I.. didn’t know there was a trans person in the school.. A fellow trans person..” They said, mumbling the last part quietly, but Draco, Dominic, and Blaise caught it. “Fellow trans person?” Blaise tilted his head, and Draco glanced knowingly, the last part of their sentence was all he needed. They shook their head quickly, “Nothing” They shrugged, “Just nice to know”

It hurt, to be misgendered everyday, to be fair no one knew they were misgendering the kid. But they were so scared of being erased, discriminated against, that they said nothing. Since 1st year, pretty much.

They stretched some, “I'm gonna head to the library, I need to get studying done for Defense Against the Dark Arts, I’ll talk to you guys later.” They smiled, getting up, and grabbing paper, a quill, ink and their books from their dorm. Speed walking out, though it didn’t take long to hear a second pair of footsteps racing after them. Who the-

    “Hey, Y/N..” Draco trailed of, catching up to them quickly, “What’s up?” They looked at him from the corner of their eye, “There’s something you never told anyone, isn’t there?” He asked. Y/N averted their eyes and shook their head, “Nn… No..?” They sounded unsure, “Is that a statement, or a question because you don’t know?” He asked. He didn’t wanna be rude, but this was the only way he could truly confirm. If there was someone he had been accidentally misgendering, he wanted to stop that quickly.

    “I don’t wanna sound rude, nor put you on the spot.. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to but.. What are your pronouns?” he asked, he knew of the nonbinaries, he knew of them.. So it’s fine to tell him, yes? He was basically defending them. They shook their head, not ready yet. “Not ready? That’s fine, I can respect that. You can always tell me, you know that right? I’ll understand. And if not me, then Jamie will.” heHe had sincerity in his voice, Y/N simply nodded. “Noted, thanks Draco..” They smiled and headed to the Library.

    The next day, Defense Against the Dark Arts was boring as ever, all because of Umbridge. But she had a new lesson today, not the normal one though. She had been doing her usual bullying of Jamie, Draco had been on edge and heard about it earlier, fairly quickly too. It was like it was her MISSION to be an LGBTphobic idiot with no life. Jamie had mentioned nonbinaries before she dipped from class, arguing about trans in general with the woman, or.. Monster.. Both terms work. So she was now here, in front of kids, spewing out enbyphobic shit, and not planning on stopping.. Y/N was starting to cry, but tried their best to hold it in.

The first person to notice the distress was Draco, Hermione did too, as she sat behind Y/N but could see them jolting some, “These.. Non-binaries, are less than human. You’re either a boy, or a girl. Everyone agrees, yes? If you are born a girl, you’re a girl. If you’re born a boy, you’re a boy. It’s a mental disorder, and you need to be fixed-” “They’re normal.. They just happen to not feel like a guy or a girl..” Y/N said quietly, “Trans folk are human, they aren’t an it.. That’s incredibly hurtful..” They said, it took all their strength to keep their voice from cracking.

“What was that Mr. L/N?” Umbridge smiled that sweet yet disgusting smile, tilting her head.. No, that smile had more dangerous intent behind that. They flinched. “Is there something you would like to say sir?” She asked, stopping in front of them. “Trans people.. Are people.. Just because you’re too ignorant to learn doesn’t.. M..mean you- b-bring someone down b-beca-use of it..” Their voice started to crack, they hiccuped some. “I’m sorry.. Do you think you have more knowledge than me?” She asked, her tone was dangerous. “Y..yes. Clearly, I’ve d-done my research on this, th-there is science tha-at defends us” They said.

“Detention Mr. L/N.. For talking back to a teacher, when I am giving a lesson you are to listen, you’re too caught up in whatever freak show you tra-” Umbridge was cut off, “Don’t you DARE finish that damn sentence, I can promise you I am not against hitting a teacher and a woman at that.” Draco intervened, “There is a lot of science that backs transgenders up, plenty of brain science has shown there is a female and male brain, that’s what backs up trans girls and trans boys, the nonbinary is still being researched, but I can assure you it is much more than a mental illness. Yes, dysphoria is a disorder, it CAN be treated, it can be treated with Hormone Replacement Therapy, or HRT. It can be treated with transitioning. Some nonbinaries transition, some don’t feel dysphoric enough to transition, but at the end of the day they are still a they, I am still a he, and you are still a she. Just imagine if someone called you ‘he’, or even ‘it’ because they didn’t believe you were actually a girl-” “DETENTION, for BOTH of you.” Umbridge screamed, glaring daggers at both of them.

    “I’d take detention over hearing another second of the erasure, you’ve hurt my cousin enough, I’ll gladly take the blow for her. I thought Snape would’ve taught you.” Draco muttered, staring at her, “Both of you, leave. Now.” She said with a huff, Draco grabbed his things, but stopped Y/N when they tried to collect theirs, getting it for them, “Come on.” He said softly, leaving the classroom with the student.

He handed their things to them gently, “I.. Noticed you got really upset..” He said softly, “More like panicked..” They said softly, “It’s easier said than done, but try not to let her get to you. Some people just choose to stay stupid. Sometimes even I hurt from some of the shit she says. Damn the amount of biphobia I have heard from her is ungodly.” He sighed, “You’re bi?” They asked curiously, “Yeah, I thought it was obvious by now. I kinda stopped caring at like.. 2nd year, hell I made out with.. A lot of guys in 2nd and 3rd year, mostly to piss my father off because he’s also LGBTphobic, but also just because it’s fun, and guys are cute.” He said with a small grin, they laughed. “Fair enough, do what you can to piss the oppressors off” They joked, drying their eyes. He turned to head to the Slytherin Common Room, when their voice ringed out again.

“They/Them..” Y/N said, he turned around and tilted his head, “You asked what my pronouns are.. I use they/them. I’m nonbinary” They said softly, and Draco smiled with a nod. “Is there a different name you want to be called?” But they shook their head, “The name I introduced myself as is the name I want to use.” Y/N said, “Alright, come on. Lets go to the common room” Draco said, “I can probably try and get Jamie in there too..” He hummed softly.

    Later that day, it was after dinner, and all the Slytherins were in the common room. Aside from Draco and Y/N, “Do you want to tell them? Most of them are accepting, aside from a few exceptions, Pansy surprisingly is accepting.” He said quietly, and thought for a moment.. “Blaise told me a few of the kids got told off because they agreed with us.” He added, “I think.. I was always scared to say anything because I didn’t wanna be made fun of.. I didn’t know there was someone who was trans like me til you talked about what happened with Jamie..” They said, “Well, you’re safe here. Hell, I’m more than 110% sure that our headmaster is gay, so.. Do with what you will on that information” He said with a small lighthearted laugh, Draco kissed their cheek with a small hum “It’ll be okay.”

They’d chosen to tell them, they didn’t want to feel misgendered any longer, Umbridge aside. “Oi, everyone shut your trap for a second, I have something to say- THEO… Thank you” He said, after staring down Theodore for a moment. “Let us reintroduce someone, but properly this time. This is Y/N, they’re nonbinary, use they/them pronouns and the moment I hear any of you say something against that, I will personally come for you, with Jamie in tow.” Draco said, Y/N smiling a little with a small wave. “Could’ve told us sooner, but glad you did, especially after Professor Umbridge, good job” Blaise said.

    Even Pansy was accepting, they were all proud that you had the courage to say come out, and also that you said something to Umbridge.

This was fine, everything is fine. Umbridge wasn’t fine, but.. This was nice, being accepted as who you are, by people who you’d think would be the last people to ever accept you. The person you thought would be the last person to accept you ended up being the most accepting, which is ironic when you consider his dad. 

This was bad 😭

[chartedrights]

Golden Age AU Masterpost

For everyone lacking context, the Golden Age AU is just me riffing on every piece of comic book media I’ve ever consumed. Here are some single-paragraph rundowns I’ve made to keep track of things as I start to write!

The Board of Directors is analogous to the Justice League- they’re pretty much entirely people with superpowers (with the exception of Carol, at first), they’re very prestigious, and they come together to ward off larger threats like the impressive super powered task force they are. Or they used to. Membership’s sort of dropped, and people with powers are getting harder to find and recruit, and the big headliner who ran it left it in the hands of some nurse, which is like. So not sexy.

PEIP is PEIP- they fit right in where they were. In the shadows, in the dark, fighting the threats that the “special people” won’t, protecting people on a lower level than “oh god, the apocalypse,” because apparently the superheroes aren’t concerned with espionage or alien meteors anymore. The pricks. Mostly run by people without superpowers- as far as they know- and deeply concerned with keeping heroes responsible for their own actions. They would be oversight, if they were allowed to be.

CCRP Technical is an interesting place. Charlotte and Ted work there, for Sam, though neither of them is quite sure what it actually does. Paul was recruited in hopes he’d grow into upper management, but he didn’t have the ambition for it. Bill has been there for a decade or two now, ever since he started attending those meetings with Becky and Mrs. Davidson. Melissa... Melissa is their rising star. Mr. Davidson isn’t sure what they found in her, but he’s glad to see her succeed! Good for her! Four for you Melissa, you go Melissa!

Hatchetfield.... is Hatchetfield. It’s small, it’s insular, it’s full of gossip and weirdness and people with eccentric ideas of morality. It might be easier to admit that superheroes and supervillains exist, but let nobody say that the citizens of Hatchetfield ever took the easy road. They will walk uphill, in the snow, denying the supernatural both ways.

Paul is a real sweetheart. He’s autistic, he’s quiet, he likes his routine and the simple pleasures in life... and he just happens to be unkillable and he maybe possibly sort of has the ability to fly. He could be an excellent addition to either team, but he refuses to be a proper superhero, making him Hatchetfield’s most obvious target. Which in turn means that he often ends up acting like a proper superhero against his own will. He thinks Emma is perfectly lovely and still hasn’t noticed her committing crimes.

Emma is Hidgens’ Lab Assistant, which is code for “committing crimes for college credit,” and she does a lot of the footwork for him. Being a henchman definitely tops food service, lets put it that way. She also gets to follow in the family business- a long line of Perkins supervillains ended when Jane broke free and became a real hero for Tom’s sake. She always wanted to be a good person, but Emma is not as opposed to violence. She also cannot wait for Hidgens to level Hatchetfield, which is made complicated by the fact that she likes Paul rather a lot, and he likes Hatchetfield.

Hidgens is a supervillain. He never leaves his house, orchestrates incidents of immense damage to the civic infrastructure, and refuses to acknowledge that just maybe putting children into the path of radioactive chemicals is not a valid scientific experiment. He’s not necessarily a bad person, it’s just that his morals refute even the idea of black and white. More like blue and red. Orange and green. He is of the opinion that world peace can only be achieved by world domination, and therefore has begun a track to world domination. He and Sam have a blood feud of indeterminate origin.

Becky Barnes, low-level healer and walking anesthetic, somehow ended up in charge of the Board of Directors. The last leader disappeared three days after handing off control, and Becky is still looking for them. Becky is very conspicuously not looking for her ex-husband, however. It makes some people suspicious, and nobody more than Sam, who is Stanley’s most obnoxious cousin. Apparently, ruining Becky’s life runs in the family. Despite these troubling events, Becky does her best to keep the city standing and the world turning- she and Bill manage what they can, Carol and PEIP manage what they can’t. She’s still in a precarious place, however, and she’s looking for help.

Frank Pricely supplies everyone with gadgets. Hero and villain alike, everyone pays. Not always the same price, but everyone pays. He’s a neutral party, and he acts the part, but everybody likes to debate his loyalties. There’s no such thing as truly neutral, right? Everyone has their price- even him. It’s just a matter of what that price is.

Lex is his cashier, which means that she learned early on in her career in retail that the panic button is not half as good a first resort as the paralysis darts Frank keeps in the cash drawer. She has the ability to manifest objects, as long as she knows where they are. She needs a concrete location to pull them away from, which means that she snoops in every house she visits, checks the staff rooms of every store she enters. She can, on command, find you just about anything you need. For a price. She’s learning a lot lately, though, and what she learns about her powers might put her at risk.

Bill is one of the few members of the Board of Directors still standing. He and Becky get coffee all the time, and commiserate about the lack of help in Hatchetfield. He has telepathy, and certain illusionary abilities, which come in especially handy when he’s talking people down or trying to sneak hostages out of hostage situations. A gentle, well-intentioned man, Bill is not outwardly very intimidating, but he’s strong. Much stronger than most people would like to think. Becky keeps trying to hand off leadership to him, and he gently hands it back every time- he’s got other problems to deal with right now.

Formerly married to the infamous Perkins family heiress, Tom tries to live a nice, quiet life. He used to be a hero- and a damn good one- but Jane defected for him, and then died for it, and he carries more guilt than he probably should. Tom never thought of himself as special, really, and he still doesn’t. He can warp matter- twist it into shape, turn it from one thing to another, and he’s a fine craftsman when he wants to be. But it’s a dangerous thing to have on hand when you’re angry or frightened, and Tom still has an awful case of PTSD hanging around his neck. He’s doing his best to wrangle with it, but he’s going to need some help.

Ethan is just a teenager. Really, he promises. He absolutely swears. Nothing special about him! He’s just real intuitive! He and Lex have been looking into that whole “experimentation” thing they did at CCRP back when they were babies and it wasn’t even interesting! He’s just a mechanic, honestly. He’s a straight C student! He hasn’t even joined the cult off the coast on that houseboat!! He’s a good kid. No reason to be concerned at all.

Ted is also Hidgens’ henchman, but definitely the lower-ranked of the two. He applied hoping he’d make some friends, but thus far all he’s managed to do is fall in love with Charlotte, who is Sam’s henchman. It’s not going badly for him, but it’s not going well, either. He and Paul still work together. Every time Hidgens asks, Ted is like “Paul? Nah. He’s totally normal.”

Gary is a mob lawyer. He used to work for Emma’s family, but now he works for Sherman and Linda. They’re technically competition, and if they ever find out that he’s playing both sides he’ll absolutely die, but in the meantime he is racking up that cash. He is so rich. He is capable of great evil, and occasionally does terrible things, but overall he’s an affable guy. He and Charlotte had an unfortunate tryst once that ended with her tying him to the Welcome to Hatchetfield sign with his own scarf, but he still pines for her. She’s the one that got away. And continues to get away. cops hate her: local woman refuses to go to jail.

MacNamara still works for PEIP, which is only slightly a different job, on account of there being very public superheroes in this world. He and Xander have been married for ten years, but they are both under the (mistaken) impression that it wasn’t a real marriage because it was done undercover. He thinks about that and is very sad about it sometimes. But they’re partners, and that’s good enough that he can be content with it. For now. He has the ability to intensify or nullify other people’s superpowers, and he does his best to keep it quiet. He thinks there’s something noble about living without superpowers, and vaguely wishes that he and Chad’s roles were swapped- until he remembers that Chad has one (1) brain cell to his name.

Xander has the ability to speak to computers. It’s not flashy, at first glance. It doesn’t have the pizzazz of Paul’s gifts or the subtle mind fuckery of John and Bill’s. But he can know whatever he wants, can hear anything, tap any phone call, look through any webcam. He doesn’t, because he’s not a fucking creep, but he can. PEIP was lucky to find him before CCRP- and so was everyone else in the world. Xander’s not flashy in general- he keeps a lot to himself. He and John have been partners for a long time, and they still haven’t said they love each other. He still hasn’t told John that he’s a member of the Board. He still hasn’t told John that he and Paul are in the same book club.

Schaffer doesn’t need powers. You think she needs powers? Her power is that she breathes and death turns away. PEIP was built by good people like Schaffer, people with principles and strong hearts and ice cold spines of steel. Normal, human people, unremarkable except that they chose to be better. She’s fourth-generation PEIP, born and raised to believe in the service they do, the protection they provide. Some of the more bitter agents will say that Schaffer benefitted from nepotism. They will never say this in front of her, because deep down they know she did not and they know that she will prove it by kicking their asses. She and Carol used to date, but the strain of crossing enemy lines in what was, essentially, a Cold War between PEIP and the Board got to them both. Schaffer is the person Hidgens called after he got struck by lightning.

Charlotte is Sam’s henchman and quietly in the running for longest con ever pulled. One day she is going to off him and take his place as the leading supervillain in Hatchetfield, but that day is not today. She likes Ted, but Sam keeps telling her to kill him, so their relationship amounts to “the inherent eroticism of trying to murder each other”. Nobody is entirely certain how she does what she does, but she’s very, very good at her job. Emma looks up to her just a little. She had a therapist once. He tried to sleep with her. She no longer has a therapist. She does have a very lovely goldfish, however.

Mr. Davidson is MacNamara’s twin brother and Hidgens’ ex. His wife is a genuine bona fide Batman-level hero in a bigger city, so he occasionally gets kidnapped or tortured. Hidgens still writes him bitter and mildly threatening love ballads that he genuinely treasures and sends very heartfelt thank you notes for. His life is so messy. There’s so much drama. He’s also completely powerless and cheerful about it. (Re: the Working Boys.... he’s Chad. Chad MacNamara Davidson.)

Alice is developing absolutely no superpowers and she’s really really annoyed about it. She used to take this out on Lex, as teenagers will, but after Lex dropped out she began to regret that. Too little and much too late, but regret is regret. She keeps trying to mend that bridge, but it’s not working. Unfortunately for her, she’s still been seen with Lex and Ethan, and that’s enough. Imminent danger perceives no difference between friend and foe. Alice is full of a very different kind of potential, however, and sooner or later all that bottled-up anger and stress will lash out.

Deb, on the other hand, is an intern at the Board of Directors’ headquarters, which is now St. Damien’s given that Becky is in charge. Interns for heroes are much less common than henchmen working for villains, but Deb has a keen interest in coordination and overseeing operations. Bill hates having her on comms for missions, but she’s just... so good at her job. She can brew a pot of Red Bull twice-steeped coffee, arrange a date with Alice, avoid an international incident, redirect PEIP and talk Bill through defusing a bomb in the same ten-minute stretch. Lesbians can do anything. This is a fact. They are the backbone of our society.

Hot Chocolate Boy is full of secrets. And hot chocolate.

And speaking of St. Damien’s, do you recall poor Bridgette, who lost her eyesight in a horrible accident? I’m not saying Hatchetfield is going to have it’s very own Matt Murdock expy, but I am saying that. She’s blind, she’s Catholic, and she’s coming for your kneecaps.

Linda is a very low-level villain who operates out of her husband’s office and sics her Boating Club on people. Gerald should technically be a threat, given that it’s the Monroe family prerogative to slaughter rising heroes with an alacrity that distinguished them from all the other families in Hatchetfield. He is not. He’s barely even a henchman. Linda got all the bloodlust between the two of them, and she is out for blood from the start. Though initially quickly defeated, she grows in seriousness over the course of time and ends up a formidable threat with a weighty grudge against Becky and Lex. She’s not much in a physical fight, Linda, but she is deeply, deeply vindictive, and she’s willing to make any deals she has to to bring Becky down. Any deals. With anyone. Anything.

Sherman Young is a mob boss, and you know it. He’s a real creep and he’s got some sick hobbies, even for a man in his line of work, but somehow the 80s jacket and the comb-over mullet make it all worse. He’s the richest man in town, and that’s saying something, but if Linda has a say in things he won’t be for long. The Youngs, the Monroes, and the Perkins have been at war since the founding of the town, and Sherman is cutting down his competition. He might have even arranged for Jane’s accident to happen, but nobody is sure. Nobody living, anyway.

Sam is a villain. He’s not super or anything. He’s just a villain. He’s top-tier Joker-level normie, but he still goes toe-to-toe with all kinds of heroes. Notable for being pretty much exactly the same as his show counterpart in regards to his proclivity for threats and violence. He once told Paul to “talk to his fucking gun” only to find that Paul is, despite all outward appearances, fucking immortal. He is still very embarrassed about it. He’s up and coming in the Hatchetfield Villain circuit, but he’s definitely a threat. To who? Who can say. Somebody, somewhere.

Papa Ed is a PEIP informant, and he has the ability to speak to animals. He’s raising Peanuts to be a very small, very enthusiastic little squirrel spy.

Man in a Hurry is a former speedster who lost his powers and compensates for it by Being In A Hurry at all times.

Homeless Man is a CCRP agent. He specializes in camouflage and compassion. He doesn’t remember what came before, but he knows something did, and finding out what it was is all he has left to hope for.

Howard Goodman does not have superpowers, but he’s got gumption. Okay, I lied. He doesn’t have gumption. But he’s a very nice man.

[themissingmarvel]

Kind Regards, Detective [Part 2]

(I apologize for the delay. I supposed an apocalyptic world often delays ones creative sense for a piece like this. I’m excited to show you folks where this is going, though as usual I worry that people won’t like the sequel the way they liked the first. If you want to be tagged in this, please let me know. I don’t have a tag list of yet. So I’m happy to start. Anyway. Catch Up:   [Part 1]

Pairing: Detective Loki (David) x fbi!Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Language, description of death, murder (it’s a crime series what do you want honestly)

+++

The Dover and Birch case had been rough on David, years ago. For a number of reasons, though not the least of which was the fact that he had almost watched a child die. Conyers didn’t really have a lot of deaths, but he’d worked elsewhere. He’d seen bodies. And Y/N had seen bodies, too. But she was never on the front lines.

It was still cold in Pennsylvania and the snow hadn’t disappeared yet, covering the dead earth below. Both were wearing jackets, Y/N’s not nearly as warm as she had hoped. It didn’t matter. Not with what was inside.

The old, small white church with peeling paint and crooked doors had been taped off, a forensic team already taking pictures and dusting for prints. Y/N had an idea that they’d come up empty. 

“How long has the church been shut down for?” She looked over at the taller man who was blinking more than a few times, aware of the tic he’d carried with him since the belt that got used in the boys’ home decades ago. Some things you carried with you, he’d learned. Some scars were worn under clothing and others you couldn’t shy from. They betrayed you.

David took a deep breath, inhaling the cold air that reminded him briefly of the burn of smoking a cigarette. He wanted one right now. The burn would feel nice compared to this. “A year or so. Closed down once the larger parishes popped up. Conyers isn’t exactly a place that attracts a lot of heavily religious types, and small towns can’t afford to keep up places like this.” 

Religion had always been touchy for Detective Loki. He grew up with it forced down his throat but had found God of his own accord. It was painful what lay inside the building, however, no matter what you believed.

Both stepped inside the church that felt more like an icebox than anything. A coffin, perhaps. Death was palpable. It was in the air.

Looking around, Y/N thought for a moment she was having another one of her nightmares. She could feel this one, though. In her bones. On her skin. And what she saw was something she knew she’d never ever get over. As much as he would hate to admit it, or perhaps he’d do so readily, David knew he’d never get the image from his head. Knowing that this scarred you meant you were still human. 

There were little numbers taped to each of the bodies the forensic team had already covered, twelve in total, sitting straight in each pew, alone, standing up straight. It was slow motion as Y/N walked down the aisle, black rose petals lining the floor, her feet hitting a few, the soft petals crumpling beneath her. Each body was staring straight ahead, perhaps at the front, though nothing was there. Nothing except for a note that David knew deep inside was for him.

Y/N was quiet as she held back her trembles, trying to look stern and focused rather than terrified. Her cases had been fairly straightforward so far. Perhaps a few victims, or following crime patterns. She didn’t commonly work with serial killers, and found herself working instead with a variety of criminal patterns. But when she had been tasked with serials, she was often the one who caught the little things. She had a complete success rate. What an odd thing to be proud of, she’d once thought, eating dinner alone.

Looking around, she tried to focus on facts. They were dressed well, formal, even. They had their hands folded in their laps, staring ahead. There were ligature marks on the wrists, but she had known that. 

Taking a breath, it was suddenly caught in her throat, her eyes fluttering for a moment as she took it all in. All twelve bodies. More than they had accounted for. Ones they must have missed. Somewhere. Two missing persons they’d find, they were sure. Maybe from an overworked police station that hadn’t thought to log the missing persons. All lives taken. All formally placed with care and consideration, with aisles decorated in those taunting black rose petals. She closed her eyes tightly, those Y/E/C eyes unable to take anymore.

A soft hand was suddenly on the small of her back, pressure to the touch as she heard his voice, deep though soft, “Do you need to go back outside?” David’s voice was kind, now. Perhaps he felt what she did. That same terror, sadness, overwhelming sense of loss and helplessness that left a person rattled to their core. He wanted outside as damned badly.

But instead she swallowed hard, inhaling sharply and straightening her back, “None of them have their wedding bands on, Detective. He set this up like a goddamn wedding, and none of them are wearing their wedding rings,” she looked over at him, finding a way to process the information so she could actually be helpful for once, and not losing her goddamn mind about this entirely terrifying scene.

Detective Loki had been focused as well, trying to keep himself grounded. He had felt off about the whole thing and the air felt… wrong. It was hard to explain. But when he looked over and saw that same confident woman suddenly rattled, he knew it wasn’t just him. If this… shrink, or whatever, was trying to stomach this, he felt at least a little better that he could barely do the same. He didn’t like the idea that she was struggling, however. He didn’t like it because it meant that this was bigger than any of them thought, because she was supposed to be the smart, focused one here but also… also because he hated the idea of seeing her like this.

Her words, after he’d found himself touching her without even thinking about it, startled him a bit. It was true. Every single one, all married, were missing their bands, “Why take their wedding rings? Why prop them in a church and pose it like a wedding?” He was looking over at Y/N, aware that maybe her being here wasn’t such a bad idea. This wasn’t just some abductor or psycho. This was a true sociopath. 

Y/N could only shrug, shaking her head as she found herself more grounded the more she focused on the case clinically, “It’s not religiously themed, despite the church. The church is a prop, really. They’re posed. This is a wedding without a bride and groom, though. It doesn’t make sense,” her face turned quizzical. She was puzzled.

A man, looking to be mid-thirties, approached the two, “You need to see this. It gets worse.”

Y/N wasn’t sure that was possible, but as the two followed the officer into the basement of the church, it was clear why.

Looking around felt like being in the Twilight Zone for a moment. There were cots lined up, pictures above each that, from what Y/N knew of the case, were the significant others of the individuals. Each cot was set up to look fairly… well, comfortable, strangely. They were organized closely, but up against the center wall was a large, flat screen television. The TV itself must have cost upwards of five or six hundred dollars, which felt like a strange thing to leave behind. Below was a blu-ray player, stacked with movies. But they weren’t just any movies.

David had made his way towards the cots, curious at the state they were in, which was immaculate. Spare clothes were folded by each, though zip ties on the floor backed up his theory that they’d been bound. Of course they had to be. But Y/N had crouched by the movies, picking them up individually, white latex gloves on her hands as she examined them. Love Actually, Titanic, The Notebook, Pretty Woman, When Harry Met Sally. Her face contorted into confusion, whispering to herself, “They were watching movies… love movies.” 

Straightening her posture as she stood, examining the room that echoed something sinister she didn’t quite like but understood, she shook her head, “I was wrong. They were alive. I mean, those bodies out there were barely decayed and that’s nothing to do with the temperature. There’s clothing, movies… Jesus, they’ve been kept alive down here?” 

The detective’s startling blue eyes turned to the woman who looked like she was staring at a train barreling down at her. He knew that she was aware of something else. Something more.

From there both individuals spent no more than an hour examining the place. There wasn’t much to see. Nothing of real forensic use. The prints, Y/N suspected, would all belong to those who’d been held captive. Same with fibers and hair. Anything found would be contaminated. Maybe that was the point. 

Both drove back to the precinct, separate cars, quiet as the place became silent when they entered. Silent still as they walked into the conference room and closed the door. Silent as the world paused, the town aware that they were once again the target of something terrifying. So much more than before.

Hours had passed with the two staring at pictures and information printed and handed to them. Hours spent sitting silently, so engrossed in their work they didn’t notice the precinct had begun to empty out, the area that housed detectives and other administration becoming dark as the other end of the station, where the night shift cops were, remained alive. Away from them. 

Both were startled, suddenly, by the young woman’s phone going off, a soft twinkle alarm waking her from her senses, “Ah, fuck! Shit…” she muttered to herself, grabbing the alarmingly large iPhone from inside her black messenger bag, glancing at it. A reminder, one she had set, for times like this. It wasn’t uncommon for her to become so engrossed she lost track of the time. 

David glanced over, also woken from his work coma, “Everything all right?” He looked at her, a looking like he’d been woken from a trance.

Glancing at her phone, able to see the screen, he held back a grin, though the ghost of one danced on his lips, “Hamburger?” He could see the alarm name and the words in bright white, making him curious.

Looking at him, confused, she realized that of course he wasn’t a mind reader. Instead she chuckled, “Oh, yeah. I have a tendency to get focused, and if I focus, I don’t eat. And by the time I’m hungry, I’m sick… so I set the alarm for 8:30pm, not too late, but enough to jar me to eat something. And I figured ‘hamburger’ was pretty obvious. Pizza always seemed so cliche, you know?”

Despite his better judgment David smiled, “Hamburger. That what you gonna go get?” He eyed her, curious now about what she’d do. He knew himself well enough to know he’d be here another few hours before driving home to sneak some sleep in, get up early, and down a few cups of whatever his neighbor Elisa had left for him. A nice woman, older, had taken a liking to David. She took care of him, in a way. One of those ways was buying the man coffee to brew so he wasn’t stuck with that instant crap he’d drink otherwise.

Shrugging, she began to stand, wincing as she realized how stiff she’d been, tucking some files and pictures away into the bag with her laptop she hadn’t even opened yet, “Probably. I saw a Burger King a few miles from the hotel. I mean… it’s no five-star but it’ll do for now,” she forced a smile on her face, trying to focus on something other than the case. On Detective Loki. On his face. On his small little tattoos decorated like freckles on his skin. The way pieces of his hair had fallen to frame his face, his eyes, icy blue, looking fierce and strong as though nothing could waver him. 

For a moment it was quiet, David wondering if maybe he should offer to take her to the Chinese place he liked, but he reconsidered. She was still a Fed, and this was still a case. A disturbing case. He guessed they both kind of wanted to think of something else. Be somewhere else. But David couldn’t do that, and Y/N had to. She knew that sitting in a small precinct would only heighten her anxiety. She had to be somewhere contained with actual food in her system.

A moment longer than both were comfortable with passed before David took a breath, “Nothing five-star in this town, Agent Y/L/N, or the next few towns for that matter. Enjoy dinner. And uh… be safe.”

Softly smiling she nodded her tired head, “Of course, Detective.”

He was going to correct her, at that moment. He had considered letting her know that ‘David’ was fine, or even that most called him ‘Loki’ around here. And she had considered the same. Letting him know that Y/N was fine, and ‘Agent’ was what she told people when she wanted to get something done and people weren’t listening. But that moment passed in an instant, leaving Y/N to walk out the door, bag around her shoulder.

It felt eerie, walking to her car and loading her things in, the rental she was provided with so foreign, but she was used to foreign. And as she plugged her phone in, the one filled with pictures she’d taken on her own, with notes and screenshots, she tried to get the face of the detective out of her brain. And it wasn’t that she didn’t like the idea of Detective Loki. She did. She really did. But she didn’t like that he was existing there alongside the case. 

A long time ago she had learned to make a mental box. A locker. And in each locker she would put information, separate them from each other. It helped keep things clear. She could put Detective Loki’s face, his attempt at hiding a smile, his small tics and blue eyes, his focus and hardened exterior… she could put it away. And for now, in the locker she needed, the one that was black and filled with something she didn’t want to even name, would be the case. And that… that would be her focus.

If not? She knew she was in trouble.

[naferty]

stevetony fic recs!!!! please!!!!!

Oh no there's just so many to choose from!! So many wonderful stony fics from so many wonderful authors. This is hard. Don't do this to me 😭😭

I hope you enjoy these just as much as I do!! 

(topTony and bottomSteve are also included)

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What Lies Inside by Penumbren

     When the Avengers discover Captain America in the Arctic sea, they find more than just a new team member: Tony Stark discovers his fated mate. The problem is, Steve Rogers is a man out of his own time and apparently straight, and Tony's not about to force anything on the man he loves--even if it means his own death. Besides, Tony's spent his entire life keeping secrets. How can he possibly tell Steve that he's really Iron Man, let alone a werewolf?

Birds of a Feather by LoquitorLatinae 

     Tony only ever wanted to be an Alpha with bright feathers, a huge wingspan, and attitude. But he was an Omega, and while he still has the attitude, his lot in life as dictated by society leaves a lot to be desired. But he was Tony Stark, and he wasn’t going to let anything get in his way—though he wouldn’t necessarily be against the company of a certain Alpha Capsicle.

Killing Monsters in the Rain by snoozingkitten

     Tony is a werewolf in name only, he’s also a genius and a playboy and the Lord of the house of Stark. When he’s forcibly reminded of his heritage by a crash landing in the East River Forest things go a bit differently than he’d expect. Fantasy AU

Man Out of Time by samptra

     Closing dark eyes he tried to center his wildly gyrating thoughts. “This isn’t happening this isn’t real…” he wacked his head a few more times, “I did not go through a weird tear in the air again. There was no crazy terreract driven machine…and I defiantly did not go back in time.” This was all some sort of dream he was having a nightmare one that he’d awake from in his bed, in Avengers Tower, in the year 2013.

That Has Such People by samptra

     Captain Tony Stark has found himself in a strange time and place. Billionaire, genius Steve Rogers has no idea what to do with a man from the past. Together perhaps they can teach each other a little about the past and future.

Dulce et Decorum est by samptra

     Badly wounded in Afghanistan Lieutenant Tony Stark had been deemed unfit for combat. His life now stretching before him a bleakly; a company he wants nothing to do with, a legacy he can barely tolerate, and a life he never wanted. Until he’s given the chance to be something he never imagined; a superhero.

Thumb, Index, and Pinky Extended by Eudoxia

     Tony Stark is twenty-one when he loses his voice. It shouldn't matter, but in a world where the first words your Soulmate says to you are marked on your skin, it can be pretty damn annoying.

Living In The Future by Closer

     Eighteen-year-old Tony Stark is the boy genius who woke Captain America, and now he's stuck with him. That's not a bad thing, but between Steve's wide-eyed wonder at the new world and Tony's little fanboy crush, the awkwardness just keeps happening.

Engaging the Enemy by tsukinofaerii

     Iron Man is one of the more persistent villains that the Ultimates face, with a special fondness for one Captain America. As Steve starts to findout more and more about him, the lines between hero and villain begin to blur. Sometimes, you don't have to be on the right side of the law to be in the right.

The Tower of Yesterday by manic_intent

     Tony is the WWII hero waking up in the future. Iron Man Noir.

Got the Cream by YourFavoriteRobot

      Steve is coasting through life after leaving the army without making any real connections to anyone around him. Until a mischievous deity turns Steve's only friend, his cat Tony, into a human being.

Tony Stark and the Sentinel of Liberty: A Marvels Adventure by Sineala

     When Project Rebirth fails, leaving the super-soldier serum inert in his veins, Steve Rogers is forced to bid goodbye to his dream of defending his country -- at least, in the way he'd always envisioned it. But his prospects in that regard aren't entirely bleak: he takes a job as chronicler for Tony Stark, the former Marvels adventurer who now serves his country in his typical unorthodox style, hunting down mystical relics before the Nazis can find them. At Tony's side in the jungles of Peru, Steve discovers that the serum works after all -- but it works in ways he could never have imagined.

Not This Omega by Annehiggins

     With Stane dead, Tony has to find a mate or lose controlling interest in his company, so it's time to throw an omega ball. Tony has a plan, but doesn't count on the drug in his drink. Now he's stuck with a mate who doesn't seem all that into him. Based on this prompt in the avengerkink meme. Set it a world where no one, not even Pepper, knows Tony is Iron Man and the events of Iron Man 2 never happened.

Unknown Caller (do not engage) by gottalovev

     Steve had one job: exchange a couple of texts with a guy who thought he had Natasha's number, and let him down gently. It ends up being a lot more complicated than that.

A Little Too Not Over You by jay_girl88

     "Steve had experienced torture before. This was a cruel and unusual form of it."

Sometimes, you can't see what's right in front of you until it isn't there anymore.

Colour Me In Love by starksnack

     [5:12 AM] Hey so I know you modeled for me like two years ago, but I really liked the work we did and was wondering if we could get together for coffee and talk about your possible participation in my upcoming project. Please let me know when you’re available. - SR

Tony models for Steve.

Basically two idiots in love.

Parabol Series by chaoticcollectorchaos_me

     When a dead body is discovered, the Avengers become murder suspects.

Rockabye Verse by BladeoftheNebula

     Cute alphas didn’t appear out of nowhere to help ruined omegas. That was a widely accepted fact.

Tony Stark had always known his life wouldn’t be easy as a genius omega in an alpha’s world. But not even he predicted getting knocked up and forced to move to a small town in the middle of nowhere.

A Gentleman's Guide to Centaurs by BladeoftheNebula

     All of Marvyl is a-twitter when Captain Rogers comes to town and takes up residence at Brooklyn Hall.

A single alpha in possession of a large fortune is an interesting prospect for any unmarried omega - especially when he has hooves.

You Have Me by ShesLikeTexas

     Tony Stark is a twenty year old college student trying to get by after being cut off by his father. Enter: Art student Steve Rogers, otherwise known as "The Captain," one of the most powerful crime bosses in New York.

Home by Saber_Wing

     Desperately, he reached back and grasped for the carving knives on the block behind him, because damned if he was going down without a fight. Then the bilgesnipe's razor sharp teeth clamped down harder on Tony's leg, and this time, he heard something crack. All rational thought fled with it.

Tony's vision went white. He thought he might have screamed, but he couldn't be sure.

Oh god, it hurt. Fuck, fuck, fuck-

Thor really should learn to keep Bilgey in his room.

The Red String by masterlokisev159

     As Prince Anthony stands by the window and watches his kingdom burn, he can only hope and pray that the barbarians will be kind. After all, what good would it do to have more bloodshed after so many lives have been lost?

It is inevitable though. Whether he likes it or not, he is the prince, the son of the cruel and powerful King Howard. And princes such as he do not last long once their kingdom has been claimed.

Tony knows these will be his final hours. He knows the barbarian leader is coming for him.

He just prays it will be a quick and painless death.

Sweet on You by MiniRaven

     It’s the 1940’s and Tony is working as a Donut Doll for the Red Cross. His job is to go around to various military bases and offer comfort food and conversation to homesick soldiers. He’s come to expect a lot of things in this job, but he doesn’t expect to fall in love with Captain America, the hottest most awkward soldier Tony has ever met.

Clan (of the Stranger and the Outcast) by greymantledlady

     The Stranger holds out his huge hand towards Tony, palm outwards and upwards.

Tony watches him warily, baring his teeth a little, not yet a snarl but a warning. But the Stranger simply holds his hand there, waiting, waiting; and his knife is lying on the ground between them, and there is no threat in the lines of his body.

Tony lets out a little breath he’s been holding. And he’s trembling, but he slowly reaches his own hand out, tentative and uncertain, and brushes the fingertips against the Stranger’s calloused palm. And the Stranger smiles a little, his eyes soft, and wraps his fingers around Tony’s.

The Long Way Back (To You) by Pearl_Unplanned

     After mouthing off to the wrong God of Mischief, Steve and Tony find themselves stuck as a cat and mouse, respectively. Either they work together to get home without being picked off by one of the many everyday dangers like stray dogs, cars, rat poison and each other, or they die trying. And maybe they can just come to terms with how they really feel towards one another.

The Future is Now by Pearl_Unplanned

     After a villain's failed 'time machine' is used on Tony and Steve, it leaves them both far older than anyone had been expecting. Tony, unsurprisingly, is having trouble coping with it, especially since there's a chance it might be permanent. Steve, on the other hand, tries to make the best of the situation.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I have plenty more but I think this is a good list. Enjoy!

[thelordstears]

I present, more fick fack fookin’ writing. Enjoy you gremlins

"I wish my mind wasn't an abuser. But here I am allowing abuse of self. My mind is a den of wolves, tearing into every good memory I ever had, making a feast out of misery, how could I ever be whole when the world's broken me down to dust?” - Pamela Northutt

“ You wouldn't believe the things I've seen, the hell I've been through, you would say I stole it straight from a fictitious novel, but no, reality is often darker then fiction ever could be.” - Pamela Northutt

“ I'm nothing but barebones and thoughts of self harm, I'd walk into a den of lions if it meant I could find peace. The lions could tear into me, and still it'd be better than what my thoughts do to me. Because maybe, finally I'd be able to rest.” - Pamela Northutt

“ I don't need a metaphor to explain this pain, but it seems it's all people understand these days. You could say, "I'm hurting, and I don't know how to fix it." And yet people wouldn't believe you, they say you're crying wolf, you have every reason to be happy, so be happy.” - Pamela Northutt

"The truth stings as a bullet wound would. Because often, it's what'll kill a man. Ya know, I heard of this plant, once, the Gympie-Gympie, it's sting is so bad, that it leads horses to leap off of cliffsides, now the only thing that has that affect on humanity, is the truth.” - Ewan Hanstammer

“ I've watched men pull the trigger because they learned the truth, they learned their wives were having affairs, or a family secret that lead them down a rabbit hole, but they were never Alice, and this was never Wonderland, it was simply reality, and isn't that what makes it oh so frightening?” - Ewan Hanstammer

“ All it takes to unravel a life is a single bullet, and all it takes to kill a man is a single word.” - Ewan Hanstammer

“ Man kind is doomed to swallow lies, because they just know the truth is just as lethal as the electric chair.” - Ewan Hanstammer

“ I'd plead to the Heavens, but all that ever got me was a coupl'a thoughts from my own damn skull.” - Joey Broker

“ They say it's all apart of God's plan, then what is the end goal of all this pain? Is it supposed to make me stronger? Cause all I feel is weakness trickling through my damn veins.” - Joey Broker

“ If I was given a gun, and was told to shoot the man who undid me, I'd cock my pistol and go forth into the unknown with the intent of pulling the trigger twice. Once against his skull, once against mine.” - Joey Broker

"My heart bares as many tragedies as the night owns stars.” - Connie Averfollow

“ All I can do is lay here and remember, by God do I wish I could forget them but I can't, by God I fucking can't.” - Connie Averfollow

“ I suppose I had Rosita for a wonderful twenty three years, but these fifteen years without her is what hurts.” - Connie Averfollow

"I'll say sorry for all I've done, if only it would change a damn thing." - Connie Averfollow

"I am missing, because who you knew is just another portrait slapped onto a carton of milk and forgotten the next day.” - Harry Downsworth

“ I gave the devil her dance, twirled underneath the flames of my childhood innocence, and now here I am helpless and left for dead in my own damn skin.” - Harry Downsworth

“ I'm a haunted memory of what's forgotten by the world, but always remembered by me.” - Harry Downsworth

“ Where once the sun shone bright and I could see every color my eyes could perceive, now I see the world in black and white. Because I suppose I'm the absence of light, because all I can feel is darkness.” - Harry Downsworth

"My heart is ruled by a blood thirsty wolf whom prowls underneath the moon and asks only one question. How doth I hunt in a world where hunters are condemned?” - Oskirrith Boncoat

“ I find the world works in strange and mysterious ways, one can kill to survive, and yet find damnation, but another man can kill to protect his family, his country, and be called honorable. There's no in-between.” - Oskirrith Boncoat

“ I bare bloodstained fangs and howl at the crimson moon, because that's all a wolf can do, really. He can deny his instincts, his inner nature, but all he'll do is starve.” - Oskirrith Boncoat

“ This world was made for those with ill intentions and unholy desires. I'll send you to your God howling, but I'll go to mine bloodstained.” - Oskirrith Boncoat

"Can't claim you're fighting for peace when you load your rifle with death. But that's all the world ever does, forces us into impossible situations and expects us to choose.” - Santos Valos

“ I've got my scars on this battered heart of mine, I hold them close, because they're what keeps me going. I won't go down without a fight, if I'm to go down, it'll be spitting my blood and baring my fangs. If I'm to die, it's to protect my damn sister.” - Santos Valos

"I'm a bloodstained lullaby flyin' on crimson wings. All I got left these days, is the thought'a revenge, and I ask da question, does that make me cruel or broken?” - Adelaide Debbens

“ He was me guidin' light, 'e gave me the world with the smile 'e'd give me, and now dat I don't 'ave 'im, I don't have the world, mate. I have nothin' but me damn gun and a sin on me fuckin' mind.” - Adelaide Debbens

“ 'E had no reason ta kill my love, but I 'ave plenty'a damn reason ta kill him.” - Adelaide Debbens

“ I don't need a gun ta take back what's mine, just a dagger and me damn wit.” - Adelaide Debbens

"These days, being yourself is a damnable offense.” - Charlie Holyman

“ I could hold onto my faith in God, but is that the crucifix I carry on this scarred back of mine? I'm whipped and bloody from this world's abuse, been through things no woman should have to see and tried to hold onto this faith I got, but holding onto something that's already lost is a dangerous game. It's just like playing Russian Roulette with a fully loaded gun, you're doomed to lose.” - Charlie Holyman

“ You're the forbidden fruit in the garden of Eden and still I would take you. It might be a sin to love that woman, but I've lived a life of it and I imagine one more sin doesn't change my destination.” - Charlie Holyman

“ I could run from all this pain, but it'll always catch up to me. No matter what way I put it, I'm doomed to this sorrow, because it's a piece of me. Perhaps I'm bad natured or just looking for a way to cope, but I'm sorry. Cause I suppose losing oneself is the human condition, and I'm coughing up myself." - Charlie Holyman

"The world shoved a blade in my hands and told me to fight when I was only a child. And so I went to war, fought in a quaint little ghost town filled with secrets and unheard prayers, I suppose when the Lord can't hear you scream, all you can do is go hoarse.” - Eliskira Waters

“ I brandish my blade with pride, I've bared the markings of battle since I was twelve. I speak a foreign language of violence, my accent is a tangy iron, and my vowels are the clashing of metal.” - Eliskira Waters

"The sirens sing a bloodshot lullaby, I've followed them time after time, because when the one you love's life is on the line, you'd steer your ship into jagged rocks and capsize your own boat. And so I have drowned for her, not in the sense that I am dead, just in the sense that I'm not the same woman she married.” - Dove Patchens

“ I'm surrounded by love, but I fear if my darkest secrets tore their way out of my throat, they would choke on the darkness I keep inside of me.” - Dove Patchens

“ I couldn't possibly be my namesake, my father named me Dove, because he believed I would fly free. But here I am, in a little birdcage, believing this is what it's like to be free. As a man once said, a bird born in captivity will think flight is a crime. But alas, alas, it's freedom, and the key is nothing but an illusion I can't reach. I'm a dove trapped in a cage of misery, believing it to be peace." - Dove Patchens

"Despite da daggers in me back and da scars on me 'eart, I stand tall through da bleedin' if only ta protect me damn family. I 'ave spent me whole life protectin' what I got, I dun't fink aboot wot I dun't 'ave, because dat'll only distract me from da present.” - Pearl Joy

“ I dun't knu wot happened ta 'im, but I can only 'ope 'e finds peace, in 'is mind, in 'is life, and hopefully death isn't da only cure ta 'is pain.” - Pearl Joy

“ Me family is da only reason I'm 'ere, dey love me, dey support me and I'll always brandish a spear and me fangs when push comes ta fookin' shove.” - Pearl Joy

"I've been ashes before. How could I ever remain the same after I burned in the fire of who I am? The way I howled and shrieked as I was damned rings in my mind, and perhaps, I should've stayed in the dark abyss.” - Eldridge Wolfmoon

“ Somedays I wish I was still dead because at least I didn't have to deal with life. By God, isn't it so much easier to be dead than alive? I was a floating nothing in an abyss, for I would always choose nothing, over something.” - Eldridge Wolfmoon

“ This world is wicked in nature, no wonder the roses have thorns and the berries are poisonous.” - Eldridge Wolfmoon

“ I fall asleep and see only flame, my death haunts me. I am my own ghost, haunting the halls of my own mind I am the fly amongst spiders and always wonder why it is I caught in the web. I'm standing stagnant, because I'm so stuck in the past, I can't live with my death, it was supposed to be the end, so why am I still here?” - Eldridge Wolfmoon

“ You may never right your wrongs, only accept them.” - Eldridge Wolfmoon

“ "'Eavy is da burden 'a my sins, but 'ere I lay, crushed by da damn weight.” - Arnold Schull

“ I've been a bloody rippa' since da age'a fifteen, covered in the blood of boys doomed ta early graves. I'm a bloodstained wolf, me claws covered in crimson and me 'eart a pitch black lagoon'a sins yet ta be committed.” - Arnold Schull

“ I don't want redemption, I don't want forgiveness nor love, nor anythin'a the damn sort. I just want some damn rest, mate. But 'ere I am, fightin' for me life and sinnin' as if there were no damn tomorrow. And if I continue on dis path, there won't be.” - Arnold Schull

“ I'm a broken commandment, God said thou shalt not kill, and so I killed the good man I were. God said thou shalt not steal and so I ripped me still beatin' heart from my chest and watched it drip the darkest shade'a black.” - Arnold Schull

“ I seek guidance, but alas I am given a candle with no flame, the wax already dripping down my fingers, and I must tread forward with no light to guide my way.” - Salvatore Broker

“ All my life I have read from the words of God, but it's often I ponder on if I read all the wrong words, perhaps I've always been in the Devil's trap and just never once knew of it. Do you think rats in mazes know they're an experiment? I would be no different, I could be chasing dead ends and think I'm free.” - Salvatore Broker

“ I spit what I believe to be the truth to those in the pews, not realizing all that came from my lips was venom.” - Salvatore Broker

“ I've been scarred, pushed down and made ta put down those I called brotha'. But I stand tall despite that, I can't let the past be a burden, I can't let the future be a tragedy.” - Alejandro Schull

“ My son 'as fallen far, but I think, if he only realized his heart was never black, just broken, he could get back up.” - Alejandro Schull

“ I'm a soldier, I've got me daggers on stand by, but my heart will never be cast aside so I may get something done. If I am to kill a man, I deserve ta feel the after affects.” - Alejandro Schull

"I am a prison warden watching over his own cell. It seems no matter how hard I try I can not escape this prison of myself, because a man who doesn't have hope can't escape a situation he put himself in.” - Christian Holden

“ I suppose I have to raise my pistol and fight, because this new world is a war even if my whole life's been a battlefield. So I'll raise a glass to the broken world, down my poison of choice and head right into battle.” - Christian Holden

"I'm a wayfaring stranger of my own heart and soul. Because nowadays, I don't even know myself.” - Andrea Maywill

“ How am I to hold onto my past when it's the very thing that breaks me down to tears?” - Andrea Maywill

“ Don't trust a survivor until you know what they had to do to become one. I wouldn't trust myself if I was a stranger, and isn't that the saddest thing, to not trust yourself?” - Andrea Maywill

“ I'd say I regret my actions, but I'm alive, aren't I? If I hadn't killed those men, I would be dead, my sister would be dead and my promise would be broken.” - Andrea Maywill

"Knowledge is a weapon. And so I use it as a bullet. I can make truths into lies and lies into truth, I am a man of many tricks, I'm a puppeteer cutting strings to marionettes that no longer hold any use to me. Life is invaluable when faced against the grand scheme of things, you're one cog in my catastrophic master plan. You're one piece on my board of pawns, everyone I hold power over is a Queen's Gambit. You could cry out "Stalemate! Stalemate!" But I'd watch you charge recklessly into battle and die for a cause you never once believed in.” - Remington Burlwitz

“ I have no care for who you are, just what you can do for me.” - Remington Burlwitz

“ Every cold case has one thing in common, someone knows the truth. Would you like me to know the truth of yours?” - Remington Burlwitz

“ I'm everything people warn you about, the boogeyman, the tall dark stranger your mother tells you to stray away from. I'm an urban legend come to life, beware the myth based in reality." - Remington Burlwitz

"They've always said night time is when the soul is at the most peace. I find this untrue, how else do you think monsters come to be?" - Remington Burlwitz

"I'm the ghost of Evergreen's Bay, where I go, cold shadows follow and death coils around the surrounding area like a creeper vine snaking up a mansion of former riches." - Remington Burlwitz

“ I've asked for forgiveness a thousand times, and I'll ask a thousand more, because perhaps one day, someone will hear my sorrowful tale and say, "You poor soul, you are forgiven for all you've done." - Joshua Schanahost

“ I've never been a devil, no one really is, we're all humans, you could come up with a hundred metaphors to describe the actions of people, but all it ever does is make a story out of murder.” - Joshua Schanahost

“ How could we ever be perfect if we never knew the definition?” - Joshua Schanahost

“ I am not the victim here, but I am not the one who should be blamed for this bloodshed. There's a snake in the garden and he's pitting us against each other, if only we could see the decisions of one man can lead to catastrophe.” - Joshua Schanahost

“ I got sins on my mind and revenge on my got damn agenda.” - Chase North

“ We all got a breakin' point, and life found mine.” - Chase North

“ I can tell you I'm a good man lookin' for a reason ta cling on, but I'm not. I'm just a bad hombre with a pistol and a death wish.” - Chase North

"Isn't it a strange feeling, to miss yourself? I've tried hard to find who I am, but all I find is the past, I suppose I'm just a memory, these days.” - Karrassa Diabaso

“ My scars shall never bleed golden, they'll never make me stronger.. they'll only ever break me down and force me to remember, I haven't lived, not truly.” - Karrassa Diabaso

“ I'm a cruel being, living off of the dying cries of other's, I've hunted people down in forests where they'd be buried, ripped into young women with a dagger and cruel intent, how could you possibly call me anything other than a wolf?” - Mason Miedan

“ Life is a cruel game of choices, and it just so happens we're all victims of it. There are no losers or winners, all we can do is play until our life flashes before our eyes.” - Mason Miedan

“ My father has always said life is a series of choices, and if I'm still alive I must've made all the right ones.” - Mason Miedan

“ My blood lust is unparalleled, some may compare me to Jack the Ripper or the Zodiac, but they're dead and buried, and I'm here. Isn't that what scares you?” - Mason Miedan

“ How am I ta march forward when all I do is look back?” - Weron Jameson

“ Bessie was everythin' I had, her smile lit up my world and made me forget 'bout all the pain and the scars engraved in my mind. But now, I'm gon' have ta get used to livin' without her.” - Weron Jameson

 “I see it in my nightmares, Saul's bloodstained bat and Bessie layin' on the ground, her heartbeat still.” - Weron Jameson

“ He thinks he can just bat us around like yarnballs, but he's gonna learn he's in a wolfs den and he's just a little kitten who's curiosity brought him too death's god damn gates.” - Weron Jameson

“ I got a bullet with Saul's name on it, and I'm sure he's got one with mine. But we'll just have ta see who draws quicker.” - Weron Jameson

"You can romanticize life all you want, in all it's bloodshed and tranquility. There's a certain beauty in the way nothing can come of peace if it wasn't fought for. Nothing can be if there was no violence, and I suppose I'm a fine example of that.” - Olympus Woods

“ I've altered many's state of self, twisted their perception of wrong and right and let them lose their minds. I'm a cruel deity, making experiments out of people. But this is for science, sacrifice is required.” - Olympus Woods

“ I've bound up Heaven's steps and found myself in God's throne, after all, I oppose even the simplest of rules. Time opposes all, but it doesn't oppose me.” - Olympus Woods

“ I'm a black rose in a garden of withered daisies and daffodils.” - Olympus Woods

“ I wish to wipe emotion from my slate, but thus far all I've done is clear other's shelves and arranged it with shiny new anger and soft spoken regrets.” - Olympus Woods

“ My wings are shaded black and my heart a shade even darker then the nebula. And so I stare into the abyss, and perhaps I stared too long, because I hath become death." - Olympus Woods

"When life's got you beat, take a deep breath and remember the worst days don't reflect your life, the best days are the ones you'll reminisce over when all seems lost.” - Chris Shaw

“ Love is the glue that holds people together, so in a world filled with hate, drown it out with the sound of your heart beating for another.” - Chris Shaw

“ You don't have to pull triggers and watch men die to be strong, all you have to do is get out of bed and take care of yourself.” - Chris Shaw

"Dese days I'm just a souvenir, a reminder dat good fings end, just a relic 'a Rome. Rome were conquered and burnt ta ash in one day, and I must ask da question, when will I be ash? All I do is fight fo' me life, but do I really got a purpose?” - McCannon Bowitsend

“ I'm followin' da paf' 'a a sinna', so me destination must be Hell. But isn't hell pain repeated ova' and ova' again? And 'ere I am, livin' a life'a pain and nuthin' else.” - McCannon Bowitsend

“ I 'ear the crowd chant me name, once upon a time dat would'a filled me wif' glee, because I'd just earned meself a spot in the championships. But now me name is a death omen ta all who hear it.” - McCannon Bowitsend

“ Uncle McCannon is comin' home, broken or not. I've broken a thousand bones, and I spose I'll break a thousand more. Because me heart beats for me family, and I can't just let em go.” - McCannon Bowitsend

“ I am beautiful with all my battle wounds and heartbreaks.” - Sherine Skidmore

“ I know people think God's abandoned us, but do you not think he weeps for our fates? Do you not think he furrows his brow as the Devil tempts thousands upon thousands of lost souls. There is no Messiah of a broken human race, because we are not broken we are survivors.” - Sherine Skidmore

"I can't find myself if I can't even meet me in the middle. I yearn for a day I can mediate with myself and come to terms with who I am, but all I ever was is a girl hiding from the spotlight.” - Hermione Vallwing

“ The stage rotted beneath me and I fell beneath the planks and boards, I climbed to the scenery and swung from the noose tied upon the painted sun. The crowd whoops and cheers for the girl who swung, because to them it's all part of the act.” - Hermione Vallwing

“ I wanna burn this theater down, get rid of these haunted memories, but all I hear is lights, camera! Action! And then my traumas play on repeat, and all I can do is stand behind the camera, watching as the horror unfolds in the screen that resides within my shattered mind.” - Hermione Vallwing

“ Death was never beautiful, and yet the poets wrote of such splendorous scenes and beautiful prose.” - Hermione Vallwing

"My memory is a blank state haze, I can think, but I don't remember. I suppose that's the tragedy of living.” - Pam Maywood

“ All I know is the name I found on a torn yellowed sheet of paper, Pam Maywood, the lost girl, traveling through her own mind finding nothing. I imagine I'm a ghost of my own mind, wandering the halls, trying to find more about this mysterious home I roam.” - Pam Maywood

“ If this is a Labyrinth, I fear the beast inside. Might he have bloodstained fangs and crimson claws? Will he be made up of sorrows I don't remember, or will she be in the mirror with a foggy mind and regret for something she doesn't remember?” - Pam Maywood

“ I see things, and hear whispers in my head, are they perhaps clues to this mystery? Are the things I see a glimpse into who I am? I've seen men fighting to the death that disappear the moment I reach them, I've heard howling on the wind and cackles from the sky. Is my past so demented that I'm only allowed snippets of it?” - Pam Maywood

“ People seem to forget even faked strength is strength, you don't gotta be strong, you just gotta act strong.” - Caldio Pastel

I've been shown the darker side of life, but I'll be damned if the credits roll.” - Caldio Pastel

“ You can't kill me, because I have the one thing you don't have, hope.” - Caldio Pastel

“ I met a beautiful woman who holds my heart, Hermione is strong, even if she doesn't think so. She's everything I ever imagined the woman I'd dance with would be, sometimes she's scared, and that's okay, the world is scary but I'm here for her whenever she needs me. Her traumas play in the screen of her mind on repeat, but whenever a nightmare strikes her down my arms are hers to crawl into.” - Caldio Pastel

“Here I am, fighting in a world that wants to kill me off and roll the credits without a second thought. But the audience claps and cheers for an encore, so I raise my fists and give it my all. Give me a standing ovation for all my efforts to live because I'm here to survive and you won't draw the curtains on me just yet." - Caldio Pastel

"If I had a dollar for everyone I've failed, I'd have thousands in my pockets." - Morston Framstein

"How sad, to be scared of your own thoughts." - Morston Framstein

"I'm a shadow of my father, these days." - Chloe Perwitz

"You can not poison a dream, you're only creating a nightmare." - Treydus Elron

"Your dreams are the world, and there's no limit to what you can do." - Treydus Elron

"I looked for guidance, but all I found was empty bullet casings." - Cormen

"You know. Through all this harsh pain I've been through, I've found even the snow can bring joy." - Ella Leopard

"The world never needed super heroes, just people willing to fight." - Mike Pennington

"My whole world crumbled before me, and all I could say, was goodbye." - Cora Eltivere

  "I stared death in the eye, and I'd say I won, but ain't I in the coffin 'a myself?" - Denzel Thievesmire

"The wolf does not cower from the sheep. So why do you stare me down with a pistol and expect me to quiver?" - Vivientos Hallows

 "I'm not much a man these days, just'a dog barking at his own tail wishing he could catch what he can never hold." - Cadencia Malrosa

"I am both the rabbit and the wolf, vying for somewhere to burrow, and yearning for bloodstained fang of the man who ruined me." - Wolfetta

"Time flows endlessly as a river, and unfortunately for you, so will your blood." - Morias Doorvensteil

"You know, the world is full of men who want to watch it burn. I suppose I have to be the blizzard that snuffs out the blaze." - Delaura Presha

"I can feel the shadows of my doubt creepin' up my skin." - Dusk Showtella

"I played whimsical tricks to amuse the crowds, and yet I fell victim to a trick of dark intent." - Medora Domeel

"I found as many monsters in the light as I did the dark." - Jerry Winstead

"Am I the vulture who picks from the bones of the dead or the one who hovers around death, and is a warning of things to come?" - Jeremy Vultures

"Seems trouble follows wherever I roam, either I'm death or very unlucky." - Franco Jonwitz

"I watched angels fall from the sky on burning wings and learned what's holy may become damned." - Demalliosa Vanberg

"Be the hero, they say, be the hero. Give me a reason, and I'll burn my cape before your eyes." - Caldwell Ramirez

"They say death before dishonor. So be honorable." - Caldwell Ramirez

"I always knew the dark, brother. It was only a matter of time before even the angler fish in the abyss of my soul's lights blinked out." - Caldwell Ramirez

"I wear a dress of shadows and own a heart the color of the nebula." - Clementine Ashburnum

"The future don't look to promising, guess all I have is hope." - Grifold Hangers

"I've been running from death for so long I'm afraid I became it." - Nathaniel Wessonlock

"I'd say my destination is Hell's gates, but ain't I already there?" - Cal Dunbar

"All it ever took ta make a good man wicked is a little bit of pressure. And I've cracked, sadly enough." - Cormelo Rivendell

"You have to fight for the future if you want to see it. Somedays it's tough, but you just gotta brave through it, after all, if you can survive your past, you can survive your future." - Don Bellzfort

"I've seen what it is war does to men, it makes the best of men wicked and the wickedest of men weep. War breaks all, it would seem, no matter the color'a your heart, it'll break ya." - Valkrane Pernotte

"In a world filled with shadows, one has to learn to become one to survive." - Fox Rivendell

"I've learned to fear everything, because most days it's my fear that keeps my heart beating. I can't be proud, because fear is what left other's hearts still." - Markalos Callenwoods

"I'm a walkin' tragedy, these days." - Julie Forkroad

"I'm up against the world, spose I gotta be a meteor to survive these days." - Garret Crane

"My brother's shadow swallows my light." - Ozzie Ramirez

"The Heavens and Hell are one in the same when faced with a man half Devil half God." - Lazarus Occult

"The world ain't never needed perfect, just doable." - Granville Van Steenburg

"Out of all the things you should hold onto, hold onto your heart the tightest. Because losing your heart will only result in the same cycle that caused yours to stop beating red." - Ted Axel

"The world won't break me down, I have my heart and hope. I suppose in a world filled with shadows, I have to be the light that swallows it." - Veronica Crowell

"I'm too old to cry these days, and too young to die. So what am I to do but run into the war we've waged with nothing but my sins on my tattered sleeve?" - Logan Orencia

"People say the world needs men willing to kill for a righteous cause. But I don't think the world needs killers, it needs fighters, because a soldier knows the word mercy, a killer does not." - Jolt Netz

"Can't find any peace of mind in a world that shows you chaos and chaos only. Suppose the only peace I have is the quiet after an explosion." - Arello Vendesto

"Da world shows ya wot it is ta die while yer still good and breathin'. Spose I can only eva' lower meself inta'a coffin'a me own fear." - Sheamus Soderstrom

"I'll keep runnin' down this path'a broken bones and spilt blood, cause the beast behind me is myself, and I spose I can never escape." - Finn Desandra

"I'm alone with my thoughts, plagued by the wicked touch of my past. I breathe in toxins, and I suppose I'm choking on my own doubts." - Keith Desandra 

"My heartbeat is cold, I fear. After all, the world froze and all I'm left with is ice to shovel into my soul." - Darwin Crocker

[domesticsns]

The time Sasuke came home horrified after work

As a homicide detective Sasuke has seen his fair share of fucked-up things in the world. Dismembers bodies, decapitated heads, people being torn open from bottom to top. He has seen it all and it has never gotten to him. 

One night, Itachi and Izumi came over Naruto and Sasuke’s apartment to have some wine, chat a bit, go out to dinner together. However, Sasuke was running a bit late. It wasn’t something very unusual with his job. So an hour has passed and Sasuke came home and he looked shocked. His jacket was gone, his white shirt was covered in both blood and some other fluid and there was even some blood on his hands and face. 

Naturally, everybody was concerned about what had happened to him. Sasuke’s face was paler than ever and he seemed like he was about to faint. So Itachi grabbed a chair and Naruto brought his husband a glass of water and they asked him what had happened. Sasuke began to tell that he had seen the most disturbing shit in his life. He was no stranger to gore. He is a graduate from the all boys military boarding school in Otogakure, he is a homicide detective he sees the most gruesome crime scenes on a daily basis. His day even started with a decapitated and mutilated corpse hanging in a tree in a forest next to the highway. However, nothing was as bad as he had experienced in the police station. 

Naruto, Itachi and Izumi all listen anticipating what could have happened. 

Sasuke begins to tell how he was going home early, because he had dinner plans and how he stepped in the elevator and then the elevator suddenly stopped working and it dropped down and it was stuck between two floors. 

At this Naruto looked at Itachi who looked just as confused as he was. As far as they both knew Sasuke was not claustrophobic or anything. 

Sasuke proceeded to tell how he suddenly heard a loud moan and he turned and he noticed the women in the elevator with him....was super pregnant. Like, long overdue pregnant. The kind of pregnant you start to worry if that baby is going to fall on the floor. Pregnant. And she...Was having...Her damn...Baby. 

So the already unpleasant scenario turned into a horror one because this lady suddenly had contractions that were already barley four minutes apart. The elevator repair people had to get in touch with the fire department because there is a WOMEN IN LABOR in the elevator and the paramedics couldn’t do anything because THEY WERE NOT IN THE ELEVATOR. So it was up to freaking Sasuke motherfucking Uchiha to deliver this baby with the paramedics on the other end of the phone!  Apparently screaming at the women to HOLD IT IN, was not motivating her to hold the baby in! 

This lady was in such agony and discomfort, Sasuke was forced by social standards to try to make her more comfortable by sitting with her in those pregnancy positions from her birth plan, the situation got so bad he had to deliver the baby while the medic told him what to do and he screaming back saying “EW I DON’T WANT TO DO THAT” “IT IS DISGUSTING” “I’VE NEVER SEEN SO MUCH BLOOD!” 

The last one his coworker replied he was a homicide detective and sasuke rephrased, “I HAVE NEVER SEEN SO MUCH BLOOD COMING FROM A LIVING HUMAN BEING.” 

All in all he managed to get the baby out and wrap it in his jacket, (it was a new jacket by the way!)  and he looked at the bloody whaling monster thinking...who would willing want one of these? he handed it over to the mother only to have her be like  “I AM HAVING TWINS” and Sasuke screaming back, “WE ARE ALREADY OVERPOPULATED, YOU CUNT!” So he had to used his vest for the other baby (it was his favourite vest by the way!). The other baby came out too, and Sasuke was holding her and she was crying loudly. Eventually the fire department got them out and the mother and babies were transported to the hospital. Sasuke got to throw up and fainted and it caused the paramedics to take him to the hospital too. He got the all clear and was ready to go home, but he passed the room of the women and her twin babies. The women looked so happy, holding her two babies and when she saw Sasuke she called out to him and thanked him, she said he was God’s send to help her in the dire situation.

Sasuke, not sure what to say, asked if she had his jacket and she looked confused and said no...They threw it out. Sasuke felt low key sad, because that was one hell of a expensive jacket and it looked really good on him, he figured he shouldn’t ask about the vest then. The women asked if he wanted to hold the twins (one boy and one girl)  Sasuke wanted to pass, but she pushed them in his arms. Sasuke looked down at the two babies and they were...a little cute. 

The women asked what his name was and Sasuke was like  “I’m detective Uchiha,” and she smiled at him and asked hif first name and Sasuke told her his name. She asked him if she could call her boy after him. Sasuke looked up from the baby at her and said,  “I don’t have a patent on the name Sasuke.”  she laughed and told him she meant to name him Sasuke after the kind men that helped her birth her twin in an elevator. Sasuke, feeling kinda honoured about that, softly thanked her. 

She asked if Sasuke had a girlfriend or a wife which she could perhaps name her daughter after. Sasuke, looked down at the girl baby and said. “I don’t have a wife, but I do have a husband. His name is Naruto and he is the sun to my moon.” (he legit opened up to the women after everything they had gone through)

There was a moment of silence and Sasuke looked up at the women, carefully taking her babies back and stepping away. 

“Oh...So you’re gay. “

Sasuke looked at her confused. 

“I have nothing against you, it is just that in my religion taught me not to...engage with your...kind. It is...dirty.” 

Sasuke stood there dumbfounded and he was going to shout at her that he helped her birth twin fucking babies inside a dirty ass elevator, sacrificed his new jacket and best vest to bring her children safely in the world. Had to put his hands in her stinky ass vagina to see if she was dilated enough and was covered in her fluids,feces and blood, yes it was splash mountain between her legs! SOME OF IT CAME IN HIS MOUTH! just for her to stand there, pretending he is the one that is dirty?! HE CRADLED HER IN HIS ARMS BECAUSE SHE WASN’T COMFORTABLE, that was waaaaayyy out of his comfort zone! 

But instead he kept a straight face and told her, “Alright then.” and walked out the door, but not before he turned around to tell her, “I wasn’t send by God by the way. It was Satan that asked me to step in that elevator and infect your children with my gay hands.” and then he left the room, got a ride from his co-worker and here he was, still able to smell that stanky fishy cunt. 

[seb-owns-these-tatas]

Mission Report (Bucky Barnes)

Characters: Bucky Barnes x You

Summary: The Winter Soldier has trespassed inside your apartment before and he had no other choice but to do it again because you are his mission.

Warnings: Mention of blood? Choking? Murder? Not your usual save the fragile princess kind of thing? Typos or wrong grammars. The Russian words are probably not right because I used Google translate and it's the only thing I could use. Hahaha. 😅 

Words: 2,152

A/N: BUCKY BARNES FOR Y’ALL! Or should I say, The Winter Soldier, aye? Heehee! Tell me what ya’ think about this! Heehee!

Disclaimer: GIF and pictures used are not mine, only the edits are and the whole one shot of course. Plagiarism is a crime.

"Mission report, November 1, 2000."

Bucky just stared at the hydra soldier holding a red book in front of him. A stern smile accenting his face that screams The Winter soldier's nightmares every night, It was malignant and soulless. He was just a human walking on earth with no soul.

Just like him, the difference was his soul was lost wandering. Waiting for it to come back to a body who had a big, youthful heart back in the 1940's.

"Ready to comply, Soldat?"

Bucky grunted as a reply, his chapped, bloody lips in a straight thin line. Something sparked his dead heart inside from the moment he had heard the date of his mission. He shook that spark of light igniting inside of him, his brainwashed mind has set his decision straight and had no other plans than to follow their orders and kill.

He tightened his fist as he sat on the electric chair where he was wiped, sweat washed the sins stuck on his shirtless, scarful body. Ready to gain another mistake or sin that he had no other choice than to follow.

"готовы соблюдать," (Ready to comply,) The Winter Soldier spoke very low, his voice raspy and deep from not talking a lot. The hydra soldier had an evil, lopsided smile. He was smiling like he knew what was about to happen next.

"I want you to kill the woman, nice and slow. Torture her the very best that you can. Just like how I asked you to do, but you've failed the first try, Soldat." He gave out a throaty chuckle, before his smile fell and The Winter Soldier knew he had to comply and get his mission done with no more mistakes.

"Try not to fail this time," and Bucky knew not to fail for the tortures to stop even just for an hour.

The winter soldier did everything he could, his trespassing was perfect, nobody has seen him enter the small apartment, the time was right for a bloody murder, yet from the moment he set those soulless eyes of his on a woman who was devouring a triple chocolate cake with her leg up on a bar stool she was sitting on in the middle of her kitchen, he was stuck hiding behind a wall while watching her eat it all.

Bucky hasn't notice that she was talking on the phone with somebody while binge eating, he fixed his stealthy trance, deeply breathing inside his mask as he concentrated on the woman who made his controlled mind shake with his next plan. "Steve isn't my type," Y/N chewed on her cake, crumbs falling on the huge plate. Tucking her hair behind her ear before grabbing on the bread knife, swiping some of the chocolate frosting and licking it off. "I told you not to hook me up with some superhero! I'd rather die with twenty cats than lose a husband because he was busy saving the world!"

"Come on, Y/N. Fine, how about Sam Wilson?" Nathalie, your friend who works in your small cake shop answered back with a teasing tone. She had been one hell of a bug, telling you that you needed a man in your life and that you needed a little bit of a thrill.

"The Falcon? oh, god. Stop with the superheroes!" You laughed, giving kitten licks on your knife. A thought came into mind and it was bothering you a lot, creating a doubt inside those sweet heart of yours. "How do you even know those guys personally when you're working on cake shop with me?"

Nathalie shut her mouth for a second, "Hold your horses there, Ma'am." She uttered breathlessly, her voice more raspy. You were jealous of her voice, it was damn sexy to begin with. Why weren't you even blessed in that department? "You've accepted my rèsumè, it's not like I'm the lucky charm in that cake shop of yours that's located miles and miles away from the city. Do you people even have wifi?"

You heard a knock, you thought it was from your door but when you brought your head up to take a glance at it, the knock repeated and you realized it was from Nathalie's line.

"You're lucky you aren't here right now. When are you coming back from your vacation?"

You licked your lips that held lots of frosting and it tasted sweet. Yet it turned sour from the moment your friend decided to open her mouth, "I dunno, Y/N. When are you going to move on from the face of your murderer and try to accept other guys in your life?"

Her response made you zip your lips in a tight frown. "When are you going to forget him?"

"Nat, all I can ever remember is his face. How can I even forget about him when I dream about him every damn night?" You sighed exasperatedly, tugging on your roots a little hard. She gave out an audible sigh either, as you hear a door open on the other side of the line.

"You're kinda nuts, Y/N. Believing on love at first sight over your murderer. Didn't you remember he basically choked you alive in your apartment? Still, you couldn't forget about him?"

"Bucky seemed he needed to do it," You whispered too low but Nathalie was lucky to hear what you said because her ears were  sharper than a normal person's hearing. You were slowly remembering the incident that happened before, and it was making your breathing turn deeper with every scene that was coming back. Oh, the memories.

"Bucky? How did you even--Natasha, I swear you forgot to give the files to Tony and--" She loudly shushed the interruptor before speaking again, "Who told you his name, Y/N?" Another set of voices came from Nathalie's line. You were confused from the sudden interruption and you had your brows cinched together as you truthfully answered her.

"He kept repeating that name under his breath like it was his mantra when he was choking me alive. So, I just assumed his name was Bucky?"

"Y/N--" Your phone was snatched away from you. You heard your phone fall on the floor with a crack. The whole world became silent and so was your heart beat. You had no time to glance back because a large hand roughly grabbed onto your hair, painfully pulling at your roots as you were suddenly forced to spun around in a full 360 degrees.

The winter soldier grabbed your neck, wrapping his rough bionic fingers around your throat as he slammed your back against the dining table. You felt the pain shoot up your back, crawling all over your body. Your eyes bulged out of your eyesockets when you stared into his soulless eyes for the second time. It was him again. The beating of your heart seemed to be erratic, basically running mile after miles.

You thrashed against his hold, trying hard to wrench his fingers away from your neck. The Winter Soldier tightened his hold, making you cough out the air trapping inside your lungs.

His cold, dead heart skipped a beat as he was trapped inside the beautiful color of your eyes. What was happening to him? He let out a savage growl, feeling his heart pump so loud after years of darkness. You quickly reached for his face, snatching off his black, half faced mask and throwing it towards the end of your kitchen. That bold, risky action made him wrap his flesh fingers around your sneaky hands, slamming it down the table with an aching thud that made you whimper.

"B-Bucky...Bucky," You managed to croak out, feeling him go still. His dark, cerulean eyes bore into yours with a hopeless, desperate gaze. His gorgeous, soulless face was now vulnerable for you to see, even the windows to his eyes were opened and vincible, seeing the wounds planted inside his heart.

He breathed out ragged, deep breaths. Groaning out the confusement he was feeling. Bucky. The name rings a bell. He knew he heard it somewhere. But, was it really a name?

The Winter Soldier shook his head, snapping himself out of his daze. His insane mind was spinning crazy. Suddenly forgetting what he was ordered to do.

"отчего?" (Why?) He roughly sputtered beneath his breath, more to himself. His voice deep, rough and dry from not talking too much. The eyes of the man hovering above you looked too lost to even call him a man because he looked like a ghost, or a man with no soul.

"B-Bucky? T-That's your name, right?" You managed to croak out from how tight his fingers were around your neck. Veins started to form around his temples, he appeared to be triggered and frustrated. He was starting to breath deeper from the moment you said his name, even tightly closing his eyes to control himself. Trying hard to remember what he was for HYDRA. He was an asset, just a mere weapon. "Y-You're killing me..S-Stop..stop.."

The Winter Soldier could feel your pulse rate slowly fading, your body growing weaker and when he saw the tears fell from the side of your eyes, looking so helpless and desperate to live..He loosened his hold around your neck. The human inside of him trying to act what's right and moral.

He was certainly in conflict.

When you felt his fingers let go of your throat, you quickly took the chance to take a hold of his metal hand. Replacing it with yours to caress the hand mark and pain away. The Winter Soldier piercely stared on his own bionic hand, looking like he despised the metal hanging on his body.

"I know you remember me, Bucky." You gulped, hands shaky as you reached up and stretched your arm to cup his jaw. He flinched and held his breath. His instincts telling him that his body was ready for the pain you planned to give because he hurt you.

But, you didn't. Y/N would never hurt him.

"Bucky. My name's Bucky,"

"That's a nice name, beautiful even. Just like you."

"But, I hurt you. I'm a bad person. There's nothing beautiful when I'm involved. "

"It's because you had no other choice,"

"I do have a choice, and it was to save you,"

"They call me their asset, they call me the Winter Soldier and it's right to be scared of me because I am too,"

His heart knocked against his chest, and another. For the first time, with just a single thump. The voices, your voices echoed inside his brainwashed head. He felt alive and human, even for just a second his thoughts weren't filled with his nightmares.

There was finally a growing flower in the middle of a dead, dried up field. A boat for a stranded human on an isolated island and a sunflower in a field full of roses.

Yet, A mission is a mission and the Winter Soldier inside his head knew better when Bucky didn't. It was a defense mechanism rather than plomping him on the electric chair as he was forced to forget the face and name of the woman who he fell in love at first sight. The daughter of the woman whom he killed by strangling her in her sleep at exactly November 1, 2000.

"Нет, я их актив." (No, I am their asset.)

He knew he was a weapon and he immediately became one when he stabbed the palm of your hand with a knife. The Winter Soldier needed the blood to save you both, and he did because he finally got to save himself.

"прости меня, Y/N." (Forgive me, Y/N.) He harshly whispered to himself, remembering how you screamed and cried that night. Even painfully watching how the blood was dripping from the palm of your hand.

He tried to save you. He did even if it pained him to see you hurt and wounded and it was all because of him.

"You're my mission, why do you have to be my mission?"

REBLOG, LIKE OR COMMENT YOUR FEEDBACK FOR THIS ONESHOT OF MINE! HEEHEE! We’re close to reaching 200 followers and I’m so shookth how y’all manage to love what I write HAHAHHAHAHA jkjk. 

XOXO,

(TATA) SEBASTIAN’S POTATO BITCH

[fandom-necromancer]

712. Can you see the potential murder in my eyes?

This was prompted by the amazing @smolandangry001! Enjoy!

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: Reed900 (Warnings: mentioned past injury(shooting), threatening someone to confess, loss of self-control)

The human can handle himself, Nines had thought. He survived on the force for longer than I’m alive, he had thought. He wouldn’t be able to help him on one of his old cases, he had told himself as Gavin was asked to assist on a red-ice-bust. They weren’t really active in narcotics anymore, human-android crimes and homicides on the rise since the revolution, but Gavin had risen to his current status in that unit, had proved to be a remarkably able detective and showed his sharp mind again and again. So when a dealer that had vanished from the radar years ago reappeared, his old colleagues had requested Gavin back on the team. One of the few unsolved cases in his career, he had been all too eager to jump back onto it.

And now Nines saw the reconstructed ballistics. Several officers marked on a piece of paper, two letters and an abbreviated title to represent a whole person. Det. G.R. under them. Nines had immediately hurried for the hospital as he had gotten the message of Gavin being shot. It was nothing fatal, he thanked RA9 and every other human god for it, although he never had a religious awakening like other androids.

Because it could have been fatal. Just a slightly different angle. Just a little jerk of the wrist, maybe not even intended. A stray bullet ricocheting from a wall. So little was needed to end a human life, so fragile were their organic tissues. A body too complex to ever be replicated by man and all it needed was a little high-speed sphere. Gavin could have died. And he hadn’t been there. He wouldn’t have been able to do anything. It was that moment he had sworn to never let his partner alone again. No matter what Fowler ordered, no matter how unlikely it was for him to get hurt, he would be there.

He appeared calm on the outside, but the turmoil inside was only confined by sheer will and self-control. It was a boiling rage, an itch in his soldier-protocols. Every defence, every attack – armed and unarmed – was cycled through, readied to activate at just the slightest provocation. And it really just was bad timing that his co-workers had just now decided to bring their suspect into an interrogation room. He immediately stood, his legs shoving back the chair with a noise that disturbed the relative silence in the bullpen and gathered most attention on his person. Then he marched towards the officers handling the man. The shooter. The one that had hurt his human, his partner, Gavin, HIS-

‘I will interrogate him.’ It was spoken with resolute confidence. It allowed no discussion and still these utter fools dared to talk back. ‘I know you are personally invested, Detective, but it is our case. We can’t let you.’ ‘This wasn’t an offer’, Nines said calmly, holding his cold rage in short reigns. All the effort he had put into softening his features, into modelling a smile for his face and into making himself less threatening and more gentle, was lost now. He went from the included android that had deviated and learned how to be more human and love, back to the cold-hearted machine, the deviant-hunter, the killer in milliseconds. He suddenly radiated the coldness of the icy tundra he had been built for initially. And apparently the two men realised just how close the android was to murder, because they sank into their uniforms and took a step back, hurriedly nodding. ‘We’ll bring him in for you, sir!’

 Nines stood in front of the table the criminal was chained to. He knew he had to stay calm if he wanted to get a confession - and more importantly to keep the officers that watched through the mirror from interfering. But he couldn't fake it good enough to sit down. In fact, it was the hardest task he had ever faced not to strangle the man with his own two hands, seeing him gulp for air that wouldn't come, see the realisation set in and the eyes slowly falling shut, the- 'So you gonna ask your questions?' The criminal tried to sound bored, just as much a charade as Nines' outer appearance. 'Or you gonna waste ma damn time?' Nines fixed the man with a death glare he didn't pick up. 'I would appreciate you confessing your crimes now', Nines hissed out between clenched teeth. 'Nah, not gonna confess shit. Didn't do anything.' He made it a game staring at the mirror picking his teeth. But Nines saw just how much his hands were shaking. Guilty fucking asshole daring to lay a hand on-

Nines' synthetic nails screeched on the metal table as he balled his hands to fists and the criminal jumped, looking the android in the eye. And maybe this was the first “oh shit“ moment, because he could sense movement behind the mirror. Nines ignored them, wirelessly hacking the door to simulate an emergency lockdown. 'So, you're not confessing, hmm?' He stood up to his full height and stared down on the idiot. 'As I said, I would appreciate it if you confessed now. And believe me, a few minutes from now you wished you had.’ He walked around the table and manoeuvred himself behind the man, creeping up from where he couldn't see him, a stray line of programming that made him the perfect hunter. 'Then let me tell you what we know. Semi-automatic. Luger pistol. 9mm.  Three shots fired, one hit, officer wounded in hospital.’

‘Ah, come on, the asshole had it coming. Shouldn’t disturb other people’s businesses next time.’ Nines slammed his fist against the wall not to hit the criminal and it was an immense satisfaction that he jerked in his chair again. More to keep the perp safe, he repositioned himself in front of him again, table a neutral zone between them. Then he leaned on it heavily and fixed him with a deadly stare. ‘This asshole is my partner’, he announced and let it sink in for effect. ‘Just so you know.’ He continued his pace around the table and slammed his arm down on it again, only inches from where the perp was handcuffed. Nines couldn’t suppress his cold fury any longer and it seeped into his voice as he pressed: ‘Can you see the potential murder in my eyes? Can you? You hurt my human. You could have killed him.’ He banged on the table again and the criminal was shivering now, fear evident on his face. That cold-hearted bastard that had shot at police and dealt drugs to countless humans, making them dependent and then used them as his minions, was terrified. And Nines couldn’t put in words how much he enjoyed that fact. ‘Oh, believe me, you better confess. Otherwise I’m-‘ There was banging at the door and Nines rolled his eyes. That would be a disciplinary for sure.

In any case it added to the criminal’s panic. The shivering got worse and it only needed one more stare by him to break. ‘Fine, fine, I’ll confess! I did it, yes, I did it all! Please, fuck!’ Nines grinned and patted down the folds in his clothes. ‘Ah, that’s good to hear.’ He took a deep breath, knowing very well that this statement alone would get him straight into jail for a long time. ‘And remember: No one hurts my partner and gets away from it, so you better pray he recovers fast, asshole.’ Then he walked to the door that unlocked as soon as he touched the handle. Outside there stood several seriously worried officers that looked at him no less afraid than the perp. But Nines had long switched back to his more socially acceptable appearance and smiled at them. ‘The suspect’s all yours, no harm done.’ No one dared to say anything. ‘And a confession after less than five minutes! I think that’s a new record, wouldn’t you think?’

Before anyone could pin him on the locked door and his less than professional demeanour, he walked away, whistling a happy tune. Time to visit Gavin in the hospital and tell him of his most recent success.

[edgewoodrp]

Congratulations and welcome back, Zoey! You have been accepted as your desired character, Bridgette Kingsley. Please be sure to complete the steps listed on the New Member checklist and send in your account within the next 24 hours.

Welcome to Edgewood. There’s no place like home.

OOC INFORMATION

Name (or alias): Zoey

Age: 23

Pronouns: She/her

Timezone: EST

CANON CHARACTER APPLICATION

Character: Bridgette Kingsley

Gender & Pronouns: n/a

Sexual Orientation: n/a

WRITING SAMPLE

TW: Drugs

Bridgette tapped her foot on the ground as she stared into the mirror. Her heart fluttered in her chest as she gazed into her own chocolate brown eyes. There she was yet again, in the bathroom of some grimy club peering into her distorted reflection. Another night wasted. Wasted in a sense that she wouldn’t be sober until sunrise and wasted in a sense that she’d never get this time back. It didn’t matter though. Anything for the high, right? Anything for the exhilerating feeling of magic flowing through her veins, right? Anything to get the giant weight of anger, disappointment, and the crushing feeling of being unremarkable and dull off her chest, right?

You weren’t always like this, she reminded herself. This wasn’t her fault. It was their fault. They were the reason why she did this to herself night after night after night after—

Bridgette screamed when she found out what the Council would do to her and how she’d be punished for the forseeable future. It wasn’t a pretty scream. It wasn’t like how girls screamed in horror films or rom coms. It was gutteral, feral, and furious. It made you wonder if she was a werewolf instead of a witch.

“What the fuck?” At first she felt confused. She didn’t do anything wrong. Not exactly. “What the fuck?!” Bridgette spat the words. “How dare they! How fucking dare they! They’re going to fucking condemn me to a life of being a useless, pathetic, mundane human being!” She didn’t think all humans were useless or pathetic, but in that moment, she’d rather die than become disconnected from magic, something that made her her.

“Who the fuck do they think they are, trying to control me?” She wasn’t sure who she was shouting out. She wasn’t sure why she was throwing glasses. It was like her body was operating on autopilot. Bridgette was already in so much trouble that it didn’t matter if she threw a few glasses and overturned a table. It didn’t matter if she threw a chair against the wall. She slammed her fists against the door over and over again as she screamed in outrage. She threw a tantrum as if she were a child, except that she never threw temper tantrums as a kid. She always got what she wanted and this was the one time she couldn’t charm her way out of it.

When they bound her powers, Bridgette never told anyone, but she felt like a cord was being cut. She felt a hollowness and an emptyness that was far worse than any heartbreak she’d ever experienced. Despite the weird weightlessness she was experiencing, there was a great and terrible pressure in her chest. A part of her was forcefully removed. They resigned her to living trapped inside Edgewood, forced to study at UW Edgewood. She was no longer allowed to live the life she wanted, the life she planned. She would never admit to anyone that she cried that night.

She barely even recognized herself when she looked in the mirror. She wasn’t the same girl for what seemed like ages, but then Pixie Dust was Bridgette’s saving grace or so it seemed. She was so desperate, it didn’t matter the cost. It was the very reason why she was in another bathroom in the back of another seedy club on another night before she’d have to go to work again the next day. Ever since she lost her powers, she was chasing a feeling. She could be in her own little world, remembering what it was like when she was young and things were easier. She owed it all to that little pink drug.

The Council’s punishment was meant to teach her a lesson and force her to think about her actions. She was supposed to change her ways and become a much more respectable witch. Instead, Bridgette would only bide her time, dreaming up scheme after scheme to get back at them. For now, it’d only be a dream.

Bridgette would think of different schemes, trying to find the best punishment to fit the crime. Sometimes, she’d imagine them on fire as terrible as it sounded or tying a rock to their leg and throwing them into the lake. Other days she imagined them as a bunch of bumbling fools who had no memory of who they were, quite possibly a fate worse than death. She wasn’t an inherantly dark or murderous person, but she could never find the right words to say to let the Council know how much she despised them.

Bridgette lifted her head and looked back into the mirror again after taking in the pink, sugary substance. If someone didn’t know better, it looked like candy. She ran her hands down her face, wiped any trace of drug away, and pushed her hair back. She gripped the sides of the counter top and inhaled deeply. She pulled back the corners of her mouth, putting on a big and bright smile. She flashed those perfectly straight white teeth. She frowned and then smiled again. She laughed. She put on a surprised face, opening her mouth up wide. She smiled again.

She turned her head towards the door when there was a knock. “Give me a minute! I’m almost done!” she said, grabbing her lipstick. She ran it over her lips and then fixed her hair so not one strand was out of place. She smiled again in the mirror, as if that would make her happier or make the drugs work faster. Bridgette slung her bag over her shoulder and opened the door, grinning ear to ear as she greeted her friends. Bridgette walked down the hall with her friends, throwing an arm over one of their shoulders and heading for the main room of the club. The lights flashed and the music was blaring. Her heart began pounding in her chest as the drugs started to take their effect on her. Pretty soon, she’d feel a high that she’d never feel with any ordinary drug. This one was pure magic.

“Oh my god, you better not have started without me!” one girl whined. “If you get wasted before us, it’s sooooo not going to be fun.”

“I swear to Goooodddd, if I see Jasper hanging out with Sophia again, I’m just going to fucking scream!” another girl said, staring at her phone. She swiped left and right as she scrolled through the people on Tinder. “She’s just such a fucking bitch. Like, no one’s fucking decked her. Everyone fucking knows she’s a ho.”

“Bridgey, were you able to get those tickets to that concert next week?” another girl asked as she took selfies of the group.

“Yeah, bitch, you know I did!” Bridgette replied. “It’s next Saturday and we got tickets for the pit, so you know what that means!” She smirked and waggled her eyebrows as she shimmied her shoulders. Put on a happy face.

“Ooooh! We should go get some Chinese after this!” another girl said, not realizing the time. Nearly every restaurant would be closed by now.

“Wait, Bridgey, I thought you were going to be the designated driver tonight,” another girl said, pouting her oversized lips.

Bridgette mentally rolled her eyes as the girl called her Bridgey. She didn’t always like these girls, but they knew how to have a good time and it was an excuse to go out and get high instead of being depressed and high in her apartment. Plus, most of them knew some great places to party. They had their perks and for now while she was trapped in this town, she might as well live her best life and stick with the crew she got. It was better to hang out with these clueless hens who barely knew a thing about her than to be with anyone else who truly knew her.

“I know, but I kind of thought I’d be going home with someone else tonight, if you know what I mean,” Bridgette replied. “And besides, I was the designated driver last weekend.” It wasn’t technically a lie. She was supposed to be the designated driver last week, but instead she threw back three shots as soon as they got to the bar before anything else could happen. “Maybe you could do it since you can’t hold your tequila?” She gave her friend a sickeningly sweet smile that was borderline snide. The other girl let out a huff and was about to protest.

“Who wants to do shots of tequila?!” Bridgette half yelled so the rest of the girls could hear her. Her squad all looked at each other and screamed in excitement as they all ran for the bar. She did a round of shots and then leaned her head back as the blood began to pound in her ears. Everything sounded tinny and hollow. As she looked around, the whole world melted like a burning candlestick. It was like the mirror in the bathroom where everything was distorted.

Only this time instead of all the dirt and filth of the glass, Bridgette began to see every color in existence, or so she thought. It was like everything was in a kaleidescope. Different colors and crystals and auras. And, after all the shots she did, time didn’t seem like a real concept anymore. Bridgette was light as a cloud and felt free as a bird. Everything she saw and heard was a burst of highly saturated colors. Everything was bright and airy. It didn’t mattter what she saw, only that feeling that it gave her. Nothing could ever replace real magic, but this came pretty damn close.

She wasn’t sure how long she was out or when and how she got home or if it was even her home. Somehow, Bridgette landed herself of a couch. Whether it was her own or someone else’s, that didn’t matter. A some point in the night, she did another line of Pixie Dust, just to get herself through the night and into the next morning. Sometimes, she’d take some of it during the day to get through her shifts before going right back into it at night. She just needed that high, that spark in her veins, to get through the day. Anything for the familiar sensation of magic in her blood, a reminder of better days and simpler times. 

That was all that mattered.

[derieri]

Sins of Abstinence - Preview

In another world, Merlin chose a side. 

It’s the first scene of the demon!Merlin AU I’ve been waiting for since 2016, which I finally decided to buck up and write for myself. The end word count will probably be about 15k, and I need some motivation to finish it! 

Feedback and hearing if other people are excited about it would probably be a game-changer, so tell me what you think!!!!

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

“So… what’d you call ‘em again?”

“The Ten Commandments,” Meliodas repeated, looking over his four companions. Criminals, every one of them, accused of vile crimes and sentenced to death until he recruited them. Diane, King, Ban, and Gowther. In Liones they were known as the Horsemen. After his stint as the commander of Danafor’s Holy Knights, one might think this was strange company for Meliodas to keep. But really, his companions were the same as they had always been: terrible people doing terrible things in the name of redemption.

“Riiiight. And they’re all stupid powerful.”

“The Demon King’s best warriors,” King added in an anxious voice. Meliodas nodded.

“Yep. But there’s a few I’m worried about in particular.” He shuffled the papers spread in front of him; King hovered over his shoulder to look. The drawings weren’t perfect likenesses after being filtered through three thousand years’ memories and his miserable art skills, but he’d managed to capture the demons’ distinctive traits. He laid out three pages and explained them one by one.

“Estarossa’s tricky, you can’t let him fool you. He is my brother, as is Zeldris. He’s next in line for the throne.” His finger tapped the drawing with a spray of spikey black hair, round cheeks, and a dark glower. “Then, there’s Merlin.” He brushed Zeldris aside to expose a sketch of a mature woman.

“Is she your sister?” Diane leaned in through the window to ask. He shook his head.

“Nope, she was human.”

“Human?” Ban said. “Thought you said they were demons.”

“She’s different. In more ways than one,” he added. “She’s not a Commandment, but she’ll come too, if she’s able. The others will be weaker when they break free, but not her. I sealed her separately. And she’s been leeching off my power for the last nineteen centuries. I have no idea how strong she’ll have gotten, but I’m sure she’s formidable.” Around him, the Horsemen had gone oddly silent. He looked up at them. “What?”

“Captain, you almost sound… proud of her,” King said. Meliodas sighed and let his eyes slide shut.

“I do, huh? Well.” He leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms behind his neck. “She’s probably mad as a spitting cat, and I don’t blame her. Point is, leave those three to me, alright?”

“… Sure, Captain.”

**-**-**-**-**

When the Horsemen had gone from the back room of the Boar Hat, Meliodas remained there alone, looking down at the drawings of his siblings. His fingers drifted over their faces. In his mind’s eye, all three of them are still just children. Estarossa, round-faced and eager; Zeldris, hungry to prove himself against his brothers; Merlin, as she was when he first met her, a sullen waif with her face streaked by ash. Gods, he was an awful older brother. Still, for Zeldris and Estarossa, he could tell himself that they were doomed to darkness from the start. Merlin, on the other hand—

Merlin was all his fault.

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

“Meliodas!” An enthused cry was the only warning the prince of demons received before a young girl plowed into him at full force. He pulled up short, allowing her to wrap her arms around his thighs in a pathetic sort of hug. Gods, she was an excitable child. He’d never been this undisciplined—but then again, he wasn’t human.

“Merlin,” he greeted her blandly. “You seem… energized.”

She pulled away from his legs to look up at him, a bit more composed now but obviously in a good mood.

“I finished copying the scroll you gave me! Would you like to see it? And may I have another just like it?”

A small huff escaped between his lips. She was developing admirably. He’d never admit it out loud, but he was proud of her in a way—after all, he’d assumed responsibility for supervising her training. But he couldn’t take all the credit. Merlin possessed a raw talent for magic unlike any other he’d seen, her innate Infinity ability aside. It made her useful, remarkably so for a human.

“So soon? Not bad. I’ll look it over when I’m finished with the mission today. And I’ll prepare another for you as well.” She pouted and opened her mouth to complain, but he stopped her short. “Patience, Merlin. I can send for a tutor, if you’d like.”

Her nose scrunched up in distaste, as he’d expected it would. Between her uncanny talent and ornery behavior, she went through teachers like other children did sweets, exhausting their materials and their wits in a matter of hours. When he discovered that the fruitless lessons acutely annoyed her, he arranged lessons with the most mediocre scholars he could find and told them that she was a dunce. He got a great deal of amusement from watching Merlin’s frustration build until she snapped and chased them off with her unbridled ire.

“I guess I can practice what I already learned,” she sighed.

“Progress is progress. Practice will still do you well.” He gave her a patronizing pat on the head. “You’re far superior to any other human, at the least. Take pride in that.”

“I’m far above everybody. Even the teachers you get me don’t know as much as I do, just you and Gowther!”

“Talk is cheap, Merlin,” he said sharply, his eyes now dark and stern. He removed his hand from her head, dusting off his palms as he straightened up. “If you think you’re better, you better be able to prove yourself. You’ve already gotten yourself into trouble once that way.”

When he found her in Belialuin several years ago, he knew immediately that his father would want her. Revealing her existence to the Demon King made the perfect distraction while Meliodas explored his nascent emotions. He never imagined that she would try to con both gods for their power, but the spectacular backfire ended up being to his advantage. It was simple to woo her to his side when everything she knew had been obliterated, and easy to control her with reminders of her arrogance and promises of strength.

Her eyes darkened, slipping straight pass sorrow into bitter anger, then sharpened with resolve.

“I’ll do it! I’ll learn everything there is and be the best magician ever known. Good enough to kill anybody I want, demons or any other race.”

Ah, he liked that. Perhaps she would even be able to match even the winged monsters that called themselves holy archangels. But he would never say so: her head was big enough as it was. With a sly, almost malicious grin, he gave her another gentle pat on the head.

“Will you, now? Humans don’t live for long. In the end, time will be what does you in. Unless you find a way to kill that first.” He held back a snicker. “Only the greatest of mages manage that. It’s stuff of legends. Prioritize your work.”

“How long do humans live? I know we—they get hurt really easy, but…”

He shrugged. The details of a human life meant almost nothing to him: he only cared about it insofar as much as he could end it early.

“A century or two. Far too long for my tolerance. But if you end their lives short, they’re somewhat more bearable. So, you have perhaps two centuries to figure out how to extend your life long enough to be worth much. Whether you manage it is up to you.”

“It would be a lot easier if I was a demon,” she pouted. Meliodas only sneered.

“Obviously. But proceeding without struggle would only make you weak.” He paused to consider his words. “Weaker,” he amended, and she didn’t quite manage to restrain her flinch. Good. She could always use an ego check. No time like the present to remind her that her species’ nature was to mewl and cower, not keep pace with titans like himself.

“The King has no use for weakness. You’re fortunate to have been welcomed here after your gluttonous tricks. You would do well to ensure that He does not regret giving you a second chance.”

What happened to her was of no concern to him. She was a tool, a ploy to keep his father’s eyes off him while Meliodas got to know that goddess. If the volatile Demon King decided her petulance wasn’t worth it, he would end her— and oh, how easy it would be. But Meliodas had taken a liking to Merlin despite himself. If she had to die, then she’d have to die, but it would be quite a shame for her to end so quickly.

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

Meliodas was the one who found her in Belialuin—an intelligent and, more importantly, powerful human that could swing the tide of the war. She was an ornery and ballsy little creature who knew the boundaries she crossed and didn’t really give a damn regardless, but it wasn’t hard to woo her to the Demon Clan once he introduced Gowther. She was thrilled to demonstrate her power to the King by freezing Zeldris in a block of ice.

He discovered that she was intelligent, exceedingly so for a creature of so few years. She could not keep up with a demon physically nor match their sheer power, but she made up for the deficit with her cleverness and razor-sharp instinct.

She grew quickly, as humans do, into a young woman with the heart of a snake. Her ego was still large, but she had potent magic power and a heap of cunning with which to back it up. Cunning enough to survive the dozens of battlefields where the Demon Clan warred in the decade that followed his defection. Cunning enough to flee the Coffin of Eternal Darkness before it was fully wrought, and cunning enough to disappear where none could hunt her down.

At first, he thought to let her go. She wasn’t evil, he told himself. Any influence the Demon King impressed on her was partially his own fault, too—his father wouldn’t even know of her existence if he’d kept his own damn mouth shut. She had been his bargaining chip, the proof of his loyalty in the precipitous years before he fled. And then he’d abandoned her in the lion’s den. His guilt kept him from pursuing her too doggedly.

That was his first mistake.

[erintoknow]

maybe it will break and maybe it won’t

fallen hero fanfiction some [chargestep], but mostly featuring Lady Argent. ~3.1k words [ao3]

i feel like this might be intense enough i should just give this a generalized content warning :v

prev: [no reason for suspicion of me]

–––

You chew your cheek as you follow Ortega through the hallway, one hand fiddling with your sunglasses. Here we go, the day of reckoning. And lo, though you walk through the valley of death, but you shall fear no evil, because… you are the evil.

Or something.

Fuck.

Ortega stops and turns her head to check on you, offers an encouraging smile. “Thank you for doing this. I mean it.”

You keep your face placid, shrug your shoulders. “I’ll do what I can.”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I could think of any other way.”

You frown at that. The logic a little too familiar. “It’s… nice to be wanted, I guess.”

She looks at you again, shift your focus study the floor in front your feet. “Hey, I’ve missed you, you know?”

You don’t know what to say for that and so opt for ‘nothing,’ expecting Ortega to fill the silence like she always does. Instead the empty cord stretches out, the electric hum of machinery buzzing under your mind.

You step forward down the hall and it mercifully prompts Ortega to take the lead again. “So, uh, is–is, uh, Lady Argent ready?

“As much as she can be,” Ortega frowns, slowing her pace. “I hope this helps, even if you don’t find anything She’s been…”

“I can understand,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. Something heavy and painful squeezes your chest, your throat. “She’s been– been…”

“Is that what it felt like when–” 

“I don’t want to talk about that.” You snap, you wrap your arms around yourself, hugging your sides as you shudder. You’ve never really thought this hard about what happens to someone after you finish possessing them. Now you are, and you can taste the bile in the back of your throat.

           cables twisting around

                       the feet like

               snakes in the grass.

      red strings wrapped

                           around your wrists,

                       yanked tight,

                 your hand finds the dial

        on the plasma caster’s power setting

“–felt it too, during that last mission.”

You blink, lost for a moment. “Who?”

Ortega gives you a look. “Chen?”

Oh.

Wait.

“What about the dampeners?”

Ortega shakes her head, “They overloaded.” She speeds up as she talks, “That’s why I got to you so late. It started to get to him too. Just about about managed to keep himself under control.”

Frown, “How?” How did Steel do what you couldn’t.

Ortega frowns, obviously not proud of herself. “I reminded him he was a soldier, you know? That his life wasn’t his anymore.”

Oh.

Your frown only deepens further. “Well good for him.”

The walls are a friendlier color but as Ortega opens the door for you to step inside, you can’t help but note the similarity to an interrogation room. Glass pane into the hallway, single door in or out. Two chairs on opposite sides of a small square table. Light hanging down from a singular overhead lamp. You pull the halves of your jacket together with one hand as you sit down in the only unoccupied chair.

Ortega shuts the door behind her.

Lady Argent sits across from you, arms folded in front of her chest, leaning back, away from you, shoulders tense.  Might as well try to ease into things…

You push up your sunglasses. No way in hell are you taking them off in here.  “H–how are you doing, Lady Argent?”

She scowls at you. “Let’s just get on with this already. It’s been weeks.”

Try not to flinch, take a breath. In. Out. “Alright, well… close you eyes, if you could?”

She hunches up, glaring at you. “Why.” Damn, you’d swear she could see right though you. Suddenly, having Ortega standing in a corner doesn’t feel like sufficient protection. God, if you screw this up, you’ll be lucky if it only costs your life.

You try to smile, put your hands flat on your lap, gripping your skin through clothes so they won’t shake. “N–n–no sense turning this into a staring contest, right? It’ll be– it’ll be hard for us to focus if we’re all laughing.”

Argent snarls at you, and you flinch back in your seat. “This isn’t funny.” 

Ortega steps forward from her corner towards the two of you. “Angie, it’s okay. Calm down. You can trust Ari.” You stomach twists at that last addition.

“I am calm.” Argent huffs, scrunching up face. “Stay out of this Julia.” She turns her head back to you, staring you down. You give her a nervous smile and she shuts her eyes with another huff. “…should I be doing anything?”

There’s something deeply unsettling about how her the silver sheen of her skin reflects your own face back at you.

You bite your lip, “Just… be quiet. It’s been a long time since I’ve tried to do anything like this.” You lie, and you feel sick again for doing so. You need to pull yourself together fast or you cover-up job is going to be even worse at hiding your involvement then the original crime.

“Take your time, Ari.” Ortega’s voice feels like it’s coming from a thousand miles away as you close your own eyes.

It starts with skimming thoughts, like dipping your hand through a stream. It’s small – a child’s – yours or hers? Skimming the water fingers brushing pebbles and the water deepens, further and further as the blue of the reflected sky deepens and the wavering images of the forest drops away and you’re in the thick of it – immersed. The current grips your arm pulling you one way, your leg it yanks another.

The haze of blue blinding your perception gives way to metal spires mirrored in the sea. Constantly shifting, tilting, collapsing and rebuilding, the reflections out of sync. Memory of metal and sharpness. You pull your own song tight against you, pull yourself into the tiniest speck of a presence as you can manage. The long you’re here, the great a risk you take.

Pull yourself tight, plunge down into the depth of the labyrinth. You don’t have time to try to decipher the literal meaning of the metaphors being thrown at you. Get in, get out. Follow the thread. You were always good that at least.

Or you thought you were.

Wrong turn, and the mindscape melts around you into something else, a shadow of a room. Somewhere in the Rangers HQ? Ortega stands in front of you but you only know that by her shape and the memory. The figure before you is alive in pulsing coils of light like you’ve never seen her before.

You’re in Argent’s memory?

Oops.

We can’t just pretend this never happened, Ortega pleads. You try to focus on her through Argent’s eyes. What is she wearing? A suit. White? When was this?

Yes we can, Argent snaps and your– her vision jerks around as she crosses her arms, scowls at Ortega.

Ortega, this unsettling superposition of glowing wires under human flesh. She gestures, leaving glowing trails with her hands. You know it doesn’t work that way. You’re–

A risk to the team. Argent snarls. A liability.

What’s that look for? Ortega frowns.

Argent’s vision darts between the pulsing in Ortega’s abdomen to her face. You sure I’m the only liability here?

That is not what we’re talking about.

Fine. But we will. Soon.

Ortega sighs. If that’s what it takes.

I just find her a bit creepy. You frown, drumming your hand against your elbow.

Angie! Ortega frowns, eyebrows furrowed.

You take a step back, What? Something about how she looks–

Just stop! Ortega raises her voice at you. She’s been through a lot and deserves some–

Huh. Arch a single eyebrow.

What!?

A smile curls your lip. Nothing, you lie. It’s just… funny.

What? What is? Ortega’s face heats up, an intensity of color.

You. Point a finger at her face. Are blushing.

She’s a friend. An old friend. Ortega is glaring daggers at you now.

You keep your smirk. Uh-huh.

Look, just, be civil to her okay? This isn’t her fault. Ortega’s words twist a knife in your heart as the memory warps and melts around you. It’s not your fault. This isn’t your fault. You’re just– you’re just trying to help right?

Cables, like snakes in the grass coil around you.

Sorry Chickadee, here comes the net.

You don’t even realize at first that anything’s wrong. You’re just walking down the street, enjoying the temporary respite from the constant throbbing pain in your bones. And then you don’t make the turn towards your house. You keep walking. Cross the street. Huh. That’s funny. 

Must have been day-dreaming.

let your feet carry you to work by sheer reflex of memory there’s an itching in the back of your skull inside behind one eye a pressure pushing down people screaming flash of green when did you get to the ranger’s building? that’s blocks away plug in the security code descend down, down into the vault no one questions you why? why can’t they see what’s wrong? you movement feels stiff yet light there’s someone else pulling the strings something speaks with your mouth to the security guard and it’s not you, not your words and then

you’re scanning a wall of boxes tracing lines of circuitry pry loose one cabinet take the box inside and something in your skin buzzes crawls hums as your fingers wrap around the box whatever asshole’s running you doesn’t pay any mind too drunk on their supposed victory but still you can’t move, can’t speak cable wires run through your bones pulled this way and that by something else

and fuck thank god there’s herald you useless man don’t just stand there smiling this isn’t you it’s not you, help do something a shock like lightning runs through you and your hand goes straight into herald’s smiling face knocking him off his feet goddamnit thats what you get why won’t you realize something is wrong danny help me

he says something as the you that isn’t you runs and you can’t hear it can’t process it your vision dark like you keep falling asleep have to force yourself awake but there’s nothing you can do nothing nothing nothing your own fists clumsily bludgeoning and he doesn’t understand doesn’t get it useless useless somebody help help please why doesn’t somebody help you

You manage to yank yourself away before you impale yourself any further on the memory, an angry hissing red razor, a thousand different edges poking out in all directions. The water around it shimmers in a boiling haze.

Fuck.

Shit.

Goddamn.

That was bad.

You can’t afford time to process it right now. At least divorced from your body you don’t feel your usual reactions. No nausea. No tight throat. No panicked breathing. Clear your mind of all of it. Both your minds.

Focus on calm seas and desert plains.

Bit by bit the water colors, the edges dull, the shifting of the metal around you slows. You’ve made your job harder for yourself, but you’re not doomed yet. This’ll call for extra finesse. Dance from memory spike to memory spike, pull thoughts of home, wear the smell of baking bread like a cloak. Cast aside your jealousy pangs at her memories of family.

Memories aren’t recordings, it’s a performance, and one you can change. Touch the core of it again, gently, lightly, don’t get sucked in, scrub your give-aways drop little hints of something else.

No one’s heard from her in months, her picture plastering news reports. The innocent young woman, would-be vigilante. Where is she now? You don’t know, but Locus will make the perfect scapegoat. Strong enough to have plausibly done it. So long gone it’s unlikely the Rangers will ever find her and realize the ruse.

Paint her image into the crowd as Argent steps out of the therapy clinic. Purple on black skin, re-route your regret as coming from her:

It wasn’t your fault Argent. It wasn’t your fault. She had no other choice. It was nothing against you.

She’s sorry. She’s so, so sorry. You jerk awake in your own body to the room spinning around you, nausea churning at the back of your mouth. Someone’s hands pressing hard into your shoulders, holding you steady.

“Ariadne– Ari? You okay?”

You flinch, look up and try to focus your eyes. Ortega’s mouth is a tight frown, brows knitted together. What does she– Shouldn’t she be attending to Argent? Not you?

You cough, “I’m fine.” You rub your nose and groan, a line of red runs down your finger, across your hand. “Fuck. Got any tissues?”

“Yeah, yeah of course,” Ortega reaches into her back pocket pulling out a travel pack and handing the whole thing to you. You quickly shove a tissue up your noise and then wipe down your bloody hand.

“Thanks.” You glance over at Argent and flinch, there’s a slow boiling fury in her eyes. This is it. The moment of truth.

Argent spits out a name through clenched teeth. “Locus.” Her hands have curled into fists. “It was Locus. I knew she couldn’t be trusted. No one is that nice.” She shoves her chair backward as she gets to her feet.

Ortega helps you up, “Are you sure it was her?”

“I am.” She pays a passing glance in your direction and your stomach flips. “Sorry about your friend there. But she managed to jog something at least. I saw her. I saw her just before it all happened.” 

You glance at Ortega as Argent paces the room, flexing her fingers which have sharped into razors. “She is up to something. I don’t know what. Forced? Sorry?” Her voice drops into an unnerving growl. “She’ll pay. No one does something like that to me and walks away.” drums her hands –lethal pinpricks– against her hips, quivering in rage.

You feel sick, watching her.

There’s… There’s no way she’ll actually find Locus, right? “You should go tell Chen while it’s still fresh in your head.” Ortega puts an arm around your shoulder, holding you up, and you let her. Your body pressing into hers. You still feel dizzy. Was she always this tall? You didn’t shrink in the past seven years did you? “I’ll make sure Ari’s okay here.”

Argent flexes her hands, brushes back her hair in a dramatic flourish. “We finally have a lead.” She marches out the room, slamming the door hard enough behind her to make you jump.

Ortega frowns as she looks at you. “Are you alright, Ari? You look awful.”

You worm your way free of her and narrow your eyes, hold up the wad of tissues with one hand as you pinch the bridge of your nose. “I’m fine. Stop worrying so much.” It’s not you she should worry about.

“If you say so. Let me just clean up a bit before we head out.”

You lean back against the wall of the room as you watch Ortega fuss about the room. When she turns back to you, there’s a chocolate bar in her hands. “I know it’s not a milkshake, but I figured you would want a pick-me-up.”

You eyes widen at her, “W–where the– the heck were you hiding this?” You take the bar from her, hold it in one hand while you check if your nose is still bleeding with the other. Satisfied you at least won’t bleed over the chocolate you rip the wrapper open and bite down on an edge; let it melt in your mouth.

“I know how you get when you do something big like this.”

You close your eyes, slump against the wall. For a moment it’s like the past seven years haven’t happened. It’s just you and Julia, de-stressing after some death-defying battle. Allies again. Friends. But– “You never used to be this thoughtful.”

“Things change.”

“I guess.”

The taste of copper mixes with the taste of chocolate.

You can hear Ortega shift and you open your eyes and now she’s sitting in one of the chairs, turned it so she can face you. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You almost want to laugh. Instead you shrug, fold the wrapper back up and toss the candy bar to the table. “No.”

Ortega meets your gaze and you have to look away again. “It can’t hurt.”

You toss the bloodied tissue into the trash bin by the door. Rim shot, 2 points. Pull out another tissue and wad it up there. “You aren’t–” You stop yourself, wince. Try again, “you aren’t the one with the scars.”

Fuck. You don’t deserve her sympathy. If she knew the truth about you… Not even just about what you are any more. It’s what you’ve done. What you’re going to do. You’re going to have to think hard about this. About how far you’re willing to go.

Do you really need to blow up a whole building just to take out some dumb exhibit? Maybe…

“Ari… none of us got out of there in one piece.”

You tense up, “Y–you know what I mean.” What is her deal? Why does she care so damn much?

“Maybe, but…” Ortega trails off as she stands up again, she hesitates, a half step towards you. God. She’s really trying isn’t she. This isn’t an act. It isn’t a scheme to get you to slip up. Fuck. All this effort… you don’t deserve a second of it.

You don’t deserve to be here. You shouldn’t have done this. Ortega’s yanked your corpse out of the ground and now all the maggots have gone running for cover. Maybe Chen and Ortega don’t hate you. But now they will. What you’ve already done here.

But you can’t stop. It’s this or dying or worse. You or the Directive. 

You step towards her, duck your head towards the side and pull her into a hug. It takes her a second to register and then her arms clap tight against your back, pulling you against her, holding you a littler harder, and little longer than appropriate.

Eventually you have to pull away from her. You cough, “I’ve.. um, m-missed you too.” You can feel your face heat up as say it.

Ortega’s face lights up, a grin spreading wide across her face, and she’s acting way too excited over some dumb hug.

You step away from her before she can hug you again. Try to scowl to keep from smiling back. “D–don’t– don’t get carried away now.”

–

next: [my body is here and i am inside]

[relationshipsandpolitics]

I suppose it’s worthwhile to share who I’m supporting in the upcoming Democratic Primary for President. After all, what better way to make people who mostly agree with me to suddenly hate me than to stan for some deeply flawed elected official or deeply flawed Andrew Yang?

But before I get into narrowing down the field, I want to briefly mention something I’m going to talk about in more depth later: electability.  It’s not entirely unimportant to use this unquantifiable metric when picking a candidate.  I would just caution against it, and I’m not going to use it in mine.  Simply put, I think this election is a referendum on Trump, and there will be enough wiggle room in the electorate to support a candidate who objectively would do worse against Trump and win than the best candidate. Candidate A might beat him by 10 points, but Candidate Z will still beat him and carry the down-ticket races, too. You might as well just vote for the candidate you believe in.  A crazy concept, I know.

For the record, I’d willingly vote for any Democratic candidate over Donald Trump.  I just want to get that out of the way.  People feel the need to caveat their choice in this way, as though anyone is really arguing otherwise.   There is some truth that in 2016, Bernie voters switched to Trump at rates that helped tip the election to the Republican.  But it’s also true that more Hillary Clinton voters in 2008 switched to McCain than Bernie voters switched to Trump in 2016.  The fact is it is incredibly common for supporters of a primary candidate to wind up voting for the opposition party’s nominee. These are often called swing voters or independents.  They sometimes gravitate to a candidate simply because of that candidate and not because of party or policy.   We need to stop with this type of criticism of supporters who don’t support your preferred candidate.

Personally, I’m still voting Democrat no matter who is the nominee. But I’d be very unhappy to vote for a lot of these candidates.  

Here is the list of current candidates in an order that means nothing, but one might think has a hidden meaning:

Joe Biden, Elizabeth Warren, Corey Booker, Bernie Sanders, Julian Castro, Beto O’ Rourke, Tulsi Gabbard, Kamala Harris, Amy Klobuchar, Steve Bullock, Michael Bennet, Joe Sestak, Wayne Messam, John Delaney, Tom Steyer, Andrew Yang, Marianne Williamson, Pete Buttigieg

Let’s begin by just lopping off a bunch of these names who even I have barely heard of and have less than zero chance of being the nominee.  Keep in mind that some candidates I’m keeping on, I only do so because I wish to make fun of them.  Otherwise they would fully belong in this category of early dismissals. Here’s the new list:

Joe Biden, Elizabeth Warren, Corey Booker, Bernie Sanders, Julian Castro, Beto O’ Rourke, Tulsi Gabbard, Kamala Harris, Amy Klobuchar, John Delaney, Tom Steyer, Andrew Yang, Marianne Williamson, Pete Buttigieg

 That was fun.  Ok, let’s get into it.  When judging who my savior will be, I consider a multitude of categories.  But the first category I consider is one that won’t personally affect me at all.  I want to know if any of the candidates’ position will grossly discriminate against traditionally-disadvantaged groups.  As a straight white male, I have the benefit of not being directly impacted by even the worst Republican social policies.  All I really need to care about is taxes and getting more vacation. That’s my privilege.  But it’s also what’s so fucked up about Americans as a people.  We are entirely out for ourselves, and this is most evident in how we vote.  We need to look out for everyone, especially groups that regularly see their most basic rights challenged.  I think this is the first bar any candidate must overcome.

So any candidate that supports restricting women’s reproductive rights, supports policies that make it easier to be fired for being LGTQ, or supports banning Muslims from entering this country is gone.  Now, most of the candidates have said some questionable thins in the past.  Bernie Sanders wrote a weird column about sexual assault, Joe Biden pushed a shitty crime bill that disproportionately hurt African-Americans and was down with segregated busing, and I’m pretty sure Marianne Williamson’s only black friend is Oprah (but she’ll definitely mention it all the time).  But when it comes to actual policy, I honestly don’t believe any of the candidates running will actively seek to harm minority groups. Except Tulsi Gabbard, who has a history of saying some anti-gay shit.  I’m not trying to wade into this whole Hillary Clinton/Russia/Third-Party run controversy involving Gabbard, so I’m going to cut her off now because I don’t think she has the backs of the LGBTQ community, but I really don’t want to write about her.

Joe Biden, Elizabeth Warren, Corey Booker, Bernie Sanders, Julian Castro, Beto O’ Rourke,  Kamala Harris, Amy Klobuchar, John Delaney, Tom Steyer, Andre Yang, Marianne Williamson, Pete Buttigieg

The next crucial category is competence.  Do these candidates have the basic competence and intelligence needed to be president? It doesn’t matter if they have strong policy proposals or are skilled orators. Can they do the job?  As we can see with Trump, a complete lack of experience as a legislator, coupled with a complete lack of intelligence and basic human decency make for a bad time.  In fact, never holding elected office alone is a disqualifier for me and it should be for everyone. Based on these criteria, the following candidates get the axe:

Andrew Yang - Yang is the type of candidate who randomly makes news for a common-sense plan and gets you thinking that maybe this outsider is what we need.  Then you learn he’s a Silicon Valley tech bro supported by other tech bros and pseudo-libertarian types and he never held public office but now thinks he can be president. That is the most damning critique.  This man knows literally nothing about government and how to govern/legislate. Instead of running for city council or the school board like a normal person, he decides to run for fucking president like an ego-maniacal psycho.   In other words, fuck Andrew Yang and his supporters.  Here’s a good article on why he sucks.   And here’s another.

Marianne Williamson – Candidate moonbeam had her moment in the sun during one debate where she had a couple decent soundbites.  She’s also batshit crazy, believes in anti-vax and anti-science ideas, and is friends with similarly-out of touch rich celebrities and SoCal types.  Never trust anyone who self-identifies and makes a living as a spiritual guru. Some of the worst people in the world are rich white women from Los Angeles who are really into spirituality and New Age medicines. They are the type of liberals who post online about how much they support gay people and the environment, but god forbid they want to put affordable housing in their neighborhood. Every positive thing they do for society is clouded in narcissism.  It’s an attempt to absolve themselves of their wealth with vacuous good deeds that don’t require any actual sacrifice.  People like Williamson protest polluting the oceans because they enjoy their Malibu beaches, and then happily get in their Range Rover to go to the movies down the street.  Williamson simply adds a layer of bullshit with her spiritualism.  If having a personal shaman is a status symbol; being the personal shaman to Oprah is the ultimate status symbol.  Like Yang, Williamson is an egomaniac as only someone from California can be, and she thinks the presidency is her God-given right. Fuck having to actually learn about public service by serving your town first when you can name drop Oprah and Gwyneth and immediately raise enough money to get a national audience to spew your garbage.

Tom Steyer - I could go on about how out of touch his policies are, but no one should be forced to read more than two sentences about this guy.  He is a hedge fund billionaire who doesn’t want everyone to have health insurance and thinks being rich makes him qualified to be president.

Joe Biden, Elizabeth Warren, Corey Booker, Bernie Sanders, Julian Castro, Beto O’ Rourke, TKamala Harris, Amy Klobuchar,  John Delaney, Pete Buttigieg

Alright, let’s pause and congratulate ourselves for easily dismissing half the field. Yay for us!  This will mark the end of part 1, aka Super Fun Party Time #1.   Part 2 will be up shortly, I hope, as we start discussing the serious contenders.  Remember, my opinion matters more than anyone else’s so it’s extremely important you read this and ultimately vote the way I want you to vote.