#had to reduce colors :C

[nihilityuniverse]

𝟎𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 | 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐈𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐱 𝐅𝐄𝐌! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ 𝗦𝗲𝗰𝗿𝗲𝘁 𝗖𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗼𝗿 ᴏꜰ ᴛᴇʏᴠᴀᴛ 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗙𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝗕𝗼𝘀𝘀.

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MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

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Story inspired by Acheron's Lore, Power, and Personality...

ENG is not my First language

I do not own Genshin Impact or any of the pictures used.

Do NOT Repost.

This story is also available on Wattpad: Chapter 0 | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

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Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Chapter 0 - Prologue

[Lament of the Fallen]

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"I have lost everything."

The relentless battle against the Honkai beasts rages on, your katana slicing through their monstrous forms with a desperate fury. Explosions erupt around you, the searing heat mixing with the blood and sweat that drips down your temples. The ground is littered with the fallen, comrades who once fought beside you now lifeless amidst the swarming beasts summoned by the Herrschers.

"My family..."

The horrifying sight of humans, transformed into mindless Honkai zombies, fills you with dread. Your grip on the handle of your Divine Key falters as you witness your little sister and brother among them, feasting on the remains of fallen soldiers. Tears blur your vision as you dash towards them, the agony of what you must do tearing at your soul. With a heart-wrenching cry, you end their suffering, beheading the only family you had left. You had promised to protect them, to create a peaceful world for them.

"My dear comrades..."

A wall of flames engulfs the encroaching monsters, giving you a momentary respite. Kalpas, your grey-haired, masked comrade, stands before you, his power saving you once more. Exhaustion is etched on his face, but he urges you to keep moving. Before you can respond, a piercing laser beam shoots through his chest, and he crumples to the ground. One by one, your friends fall, their bodies lifeless on the battlefield. The bonds forged in blood and battle, severed in an instant.

"My world..."

The battlefield is a graveyard of Honkai beasts and fallen soldiers, their bodies buried beneath layers of ash. The sky above is a mournful grey, reflecting the lifeless desolation around you. You stand alone, the sole survivor amidst the ruins. Have you won the war, or merely survived its horrors? The answer eludes you.

"And..."

In your hand, you clutch your new Divine Key, forged from the shattered remains of 70,033 blades and the essence of twelve Herrschers. You gaze up at the bleak, grey sky, the weight of your existence pressing down on you.

"I realize now..." You unsheathe your Divine Key, Nihility, unleashing your Active Honkai Reaction. Golden cracks spread from your right hand, blossoming into ethereal flowers. Your hair turns snow-white, your skin pale as ivory. Golden horns sprout from your head, and your eye color turns into gold.

"I've lost myself."

"...That the ultimate fate of this world is nothingness, and therefore, worthless... or even the whole universe?"

With a final, devastating swing of your Divine Key, you begin to unravel the very fabric of this world, reducing it to void, to nothingness. The ground beneath you crumbles, the sky shatters, and everything you fought for dissolves into oblivion. As the world collapses around you, you raise your katana high.

"Yet... I still want to stay..."

With a heavy heart, you turn the blade upon yourself, splitting your soul in half, and embracing the void.

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Snowflakes drift gently from the dull, grey sky, their delicate forms hitting softly against your window. You stare blankly at the wintry landscape, your mind lost in the endless dance of the snow. Your right hand, adorned with claw-like metallic finger guards, rests against the cold glass. As you blink, the serene snowflakes transform into ashen rain, and the snowy ground becomes a graveyard, littered with swords and corpses.

Startled, you stumble back, your heart pounding in your chest. The haunting vision fades as quickly as it appeared, leaving you standing in the quiet room. A single tear escapes your eye, tracing a cold line down your cheek. You wipe it away, confusion mingling with the sorrow etched on your face.

"... A forgotten memory?" you whisper, your breath fogging the glass.

Before you can ponder the vision further, a knock on the door pulls you from your thoughts. You turn away from the window, your expression hardening. "Come in," you command, your voice firm yet distant.

The door creaks open, and a Fatui Skirmisher steps in, bowing deeply. He holds a letter in his trembling hand, his eyes fixed firmly on the floor. "Lord Innamorati," he begins, his voice wavering with fear. "A letter from Her Royal Highness."

'Her Highness?' The title feels foreign, a distant echo in your mind. You frown, trying to grasp the fleeting memory.

"Can you remind me of her name?" you ask, your tone soft yet icy, sending a shiver through the skirmisher despite his thick winter coat.

"H-Her Royal Highness Tsaritsa, the Cryo Archon," he stammers, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nod slowly, the name stirring something within you. A fleeting sense of purpose, lost in the haze of your fragmented memories. "Thank you," you say, your voice carrying a trace of melancholy. "My memory... it often fails me."

The skirmisher quickly hands you the letter and exits the room, his relief palpable. You turn to your desk, the weight of the message heavy in your hand. If the Cryo Archon herself has written to you, it must be of grave importance. Did something terrible happen? Or have you forgotten another mission?

You break the seal and unfold the letter, your eyes scanning the contents. With a sigh, you crumple it and toss it into the trash. Your hand instinctively moves to the scabbard where your Divine Key, Nihility, rests.

"A funeral..., huh?" The words hang in the air, heavy with sorrow and resignation.

You move to the window once more, the snowy landscape a stark contrast to the inner turmoil you feel. The snow outside is pure and untouched, but in your mind, the vision of the dead and the desolate ground lingers. You know that each snowflake, each fleeting memory, is a piece of the past that you can never fully grasp.

In the quiet of your room, you can't shake the feeling that you're losing more than just memories. You're losing yourself, piece by piece, like the snow melting away under the weight of the ashes.

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Reblog if you like this story

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Kavitha Surana at ProPublica:

In her final hours, Amber Nicole Thurman suffered from a grave infection that her suburban Atlanta hospital was well-equipped to treat. She’d taken abortion pills and encountered a rare complication; she had not expelled all of the fetal tissue from her body. She showed up at Piedmont Henry Hospital in need of a routine procedure to clear it from her uterus, called a dilation and curettage, or D&C. But just that summer, her state had made performing the procedure a felony, with few exceptions. Any doctor who violated the new Georgia law could be prosecuted and face up to a decade in prison. Thurman waited in pain in a hospital bed, worried about what would happen to her 6-year-old son, as doctors monitored her infection spreading, her blood pressure sinking and her organs beginning to fail. It took 20 hours for doctors to finally operate. By then, it was too late.

The otherwise healthy 28-year-old medical assistant, who had her sights set on nursing school, should not have died, an official state committee recently concluded.

Tasked with examining pregnancy-related deaths to improve maternal health, the experts, including 10 doctors, deemed hers “preventable” and said the hospital’s delay in performing the critical procedure had a “large” impact on her fatal outcome. Their reviews of individual patient cases are not made public. But ProPublica obtained reports that confirm that at least two women have already died after they couldn’t access legal abortions and timely medical care in their state. There are almost certainly others. Committees like the one in Georgia, set up in each state, often operate with a two-year lag behind the cases they examine, meaning that experts are only now beginning to delve into deaths that took place after the Supreme Court overturned the federal right to abortion.

Thurman’s case marks the first time an abortion-related death, officially deemed “preventable,” is coming to public light. ProPublica will share the story of the second in the coming days. We are also exploring other deaths that have not yet been reviewed but appear to be connected to abortion bans. Doctors warned state legislators women would die if medical procedures sometimes needed to save lives became illegal. Though Republican lawmakers who voted for state bans on abortion say the laws have exceptions to protect the “life of the mother,” medical experts cautioned that the language is not rooted in science and ignores the fast-moving realities of medicine.

The most restrictive state laws, experts predicted, would pit doctors’ fears of prosecution against their patients’ health needs, requiring providers to make sure their patient was inarguably on the brink of death or facing “irreversible” harm when they intervened with procedures like a D&C. “They would feel the need to wait for a higher blood pressure, wait for a higher fever — really got to justify this one — bleed a little bit more,” Dr. Melissa Kottke, an OB-GYN at Emory, warned lawmakers in 2019 during one of the hearings over Georgia’s ban. Doctors and a nurse involved in Thurman’s care declined to explain their thinking and did not respond to questions from ProPublica. Communications staff from the hospital did not respond to multiple requests for comment. Georgia’s Department of Public Health, which oversees the state maternal mortality review committee, said it cannot comment on ProPublica’s reporting because the committee’s cases are confidential and protected by federal law.

The availability of D&Cs for both abortions and routine miscarriage care helped save lives after the 1973 Supreme Court ruling in Roe v. Wade, studies show, reducing the rate of maternal deaths for women of color by up to 40% the first year after abortion became legal. But since abortion was banned or restricted in 22 states over the past two years, women in serious danger have been turned away from emergency rooms and told that they needed to be in more peril before doctors could help. Some have been forced to continue high-risk pregnancies that threatened their lives. Those whose pregnancies weren’t even viable have been told they could return when they were “crashing.” Such stories have been at the center of the upcoming presidential election, during which the right to abortion is on the ballot in 10 states.

Thurman, who carried the full load of a single parent, loved being a mother. Every chance she got, she took her son to petting zoos, to pop-up museums and on planned trips, like one to a Florida beach. “The talks I have with my son are everything,” she posted on social media.

But when she learned she was pregnant with twins in the summer of 2022, she quickly decided she needed to preserve her newfound stability, her best friend, Ricaria Baker, told ProPublica. Thurman and her son had recently moved out of her family’s home and into a gated apartment complex with a pool, and she was planning to enroll in nursing school. The timing could not have been worse. On July 20, the day Georgia’s law banning abortion at six weeks went into effect, her pregnancy had just passed that mark, according to records her family shared with ProPublica. Thurman wanted a surgical abortion close to home and held out hope as advocates tried to get the ban paused in court, Baker said. But as her pregnancy progressed to its ninth week, she couldn’t wait any longer. She scheduled a D&C in North Carolina, where abortion at that stage was still legal, and on Aug. 13 woke up at 4 a.m. to make the journey with her best friend.

On their drive, they hit standstill traffic, Baker said. The clinic couldn’t hold Thurman’s spot longer than 15 minutes — it was inundated with women from other states where bans had taken effect. Instead, a clinic employee offered Thurman a two-pill abortion regimen approved by the U.S. Food and Drug Administration, mifepristone and misoprostol. Her pregnancy was well within the standard of care for that treatment. Getting to the clinic had required scheduling a day off from work, finding a babysitter, making up an excuse to borrow a relative’s car and walking through a crowd of anti-abortion protesters. Thurman didn’t want to reschedule, Baker said. At the clinic, Thurman sat through a counseling session in which she was told how to safely take the pills and instructed to go to the emergency room if complications developed. She signed a release saying she understood. She took the first pill there and insisted on driving home before any symptoms started, Baker said. She took the second pill the next day, as directed.

Deaths due to complications from abortion pills are extremely rare. Out of nearly 6 million women who’ve taken mifepristone in the U.S. since 2000, 32 deaths were reported to the FDA through 2022, regardless of whether the drug played a role. Of those, 11 patients developed sepsis. Most of the remaining cases involved intentional and accidental drug overdoses, suicide, homicide and ruptured ectopic pregnancies. Baker and Thurman spoke every day that week. At first, there was only cramping, which Thurman expected. But days after she took the second pill, the pain increased and blood was soaking through more than one pad per hour. If she had lived nearby, the clinic in North Carolina would have performed a D&C for free as soon as she followed up, the executive director told ProPublica. But Thurman was four hours away.

The consequences of draconian abortion bans are being felt, as at least two women in Georgia died over being denied emergency medical care.

[tarjapearce]

soccerfamily!au Miguel and wife’s wedding?

It's Soccer Family week ~ ❤️✨

A little long, hope you like ~ c:

After Miguel proposed, there was a miriad of things that came over both. Gabi being seven months old, you looking for a dress, the both looking for a venue and so many details Miguel found annoying.

He was a simple man. If it was up to him, he'd marry you in Peter's house where he met you without that much grandeur. However, seeing you so excited for having a little wedding and the glimpse of you in a gorgeous dress, decreased his peeving. He did everything you wanted, just for the sake of seeing your smile.

This week, you'd finally see a venue that had tickled his interest. Something comfortable enough for a reduced number of people. Neither of you had much friends, which was good economically wise, not that you were struggling, he just found it useless to splurge a lot of money on people he didn't know. The ceremony would be something for friends and family.

At first he wasn't sure of asking you about your family.

"Do you plan on telling them?"

"I will. Just my dad and my eldest aunt."

He held your hand and squeezed gently.

"Are you sure of it?"

"Yes. Dad well... he's alright. And my Tia is the only one I actually like there, so..."

You rested your head on his lap, and caressed his chin.

"And your brother?"

"He's in another country right now. And doubt he reaches to show up in time. Just them."

Miguel nodded and weaved his fingers through the silkiness of your hair.

"Alright then."

"Are you inviting your mom?"

He heaved and shook his head.

"No. Doubt she comes in good spirits anyway."

Humming, you nodded and kissed his hands.

"Alright. I think we won't be even that much people anyways. Feels like an elopement"

He chuckled while you played with his fingers.

"Isn't it? The only difference is that we chose to have witnesses."

You curled in his chest and smiled

----

The venue was as charming as the ad promised. A backyard looking space which grass was greener than envy itself, wild flowers painted the milieu with their rich colors, a little lake on the side to make it look straight out of a fairytale.

Miguel couldn't help but squeeze you as your eyes shone with excitement.

----

You nearly had a crisis when the perfect dress you had picked wasn't available in your size. Even though Miguel tried to comfort you by saying you'd look gorgeous even in a burlap potato sack, you didn't want a traditional princess pompous dress.

You wanted to make his jaw drop. So you went the extra mile to get it done with little retouches. Even Gabi had a little dress custom made for her along a matching headband.

The dress turned out even better and was easier to slip out of it. The venue was looking perfect, the wedding planner had surely made it look just like you wanted. Cozy, intimate, truly ready to celebrate with those that had been through it all with Miguel and you.

Sadly, not everything was butterflies in the meadows. Some family members of yours had known about your wedding, and naturally, they didn't like the fact you had excluded them. Your mother specially.

Even if the confrontation was unavoidable, you stood your ground and not invited her, and your other relatives. Severing the troublesome bond for good.

She only saw Gabi briefly, and left.

Miguel gave you a little reassuring that night ~

And finally the day came.

You took breakfast together, and then went to your respective activities during the day.

"See you later, Mr. O'Hara." You squeezed and slapped his butt before sending him off.

"Just for you to know, I'm getting my revenge later, cariño"

"Looking forward to it, nalgón" (bubble butt)

He greeted Gabi, played a bit with her and left.

Jessica and MJ arrived a couple of hours later and soon the preparations begun. Your dress and Gabi's finally arrived.

You bathed her and got her ready for the day.

"Whose taking her for the wedding night?"

"Oh no, we're taking her with us."

"Thought your aunt Isa would take her."

"Miguel refused. It's not like we-"

"Uh uh. Don't tell me"

Jessica's lips pursed, annoyed as you giggled.

"Anyways, look at this beautiful princesita!"

You put Gabi her little headband and snapped a picture to send it to Miguel.

Mi princesa preciosa. She looks so beautiful. Can't wait to see you.

The text made you smile and gave you enough boost to keep through the motions. The makeup artist and stylist came, MJ was the first, then Jessica and finally you.

While they got ready, you made sure to breastfeed Gabi and put her to sleep so you could get ready without much issue.

You spammed Miguel with silly pictures.

See this cereal?

Hm?

It's missing something.

Milk?

No. Not any milk. Yours 😘.

His cheeks had turned flushed as he was getting ready with Peter.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

You're so in trouble.

----

Two pm came and the small guest list filled in the room. Gabriel was his groomsman. Around twenty people were there including some coworkers from Miguel's, your aunt Isa, surprisingly your brother had arrived on time and attended as well. Around twenty people in total.

All seated in their respective spaces.

Miguel constantly loosened the tie, only for Gabriel to fix it for him.

I'm almost there, Gabi was hungry.

He sighed and as he was about to fiddle with his neck again, Gabriel slapped his hand away.

"Relájate. Ya va a venir." (Relax, she's in her way)

Gabriel gave him a little bottle of tequila.

"Drink it."

He gulped it down and sighed.

"Better?"

"Yeah."

"Vows ready?"

"Si."

Gabriel chuckled and patted his shoulder.

"You'll do great. Relax."

His cue to enter was there and with a deep sigh he walked to the altar.

Many looked at him with genuine excited faces. If he was honest, a wedding was the last thing in his mind, it was one of those things he thought once in almost never. But now, things were different.

He was different. You didn't fix him, just improved him, guided him through the darkest things to make amends with himself and allow him to overcome so many fears.

Having a family mainly. His own problems had hindered his growth in so many levels, but with your help and patience, everything was a bit easier. Your nurtured him with things he didn't even knew he needed.

And now, he was about to get you all to himself before anyone else. Of course there had been men that tried to take you away from him, but your loyalty to him was unwavering. What other proof he needed when you stood there, like an angel in a lovely dress, ready to take him as your husband.

Your dad walked next to you, waltzing you to the altar as Jessica and MJ followed you. A proud feeling invaded Miguel's chest. He gave your dad a firm handshake, an unspoken Thank you for giving her to me.

Miguel took your hand, giving a kiss to your palm.

"Hola."

"Hola"

The smile in his face was one that disarmed you. His eyes were full of pride and love, just like yours. Someone took a picture.

Your aunt Isa held Gabi. And soon, the ceremony begun. The wedding officiant gave the introduction speech, and soon the vows were brought up. Miguel started.

His hands trembled softly as he pulled out the small sheet he had wrote them in. Some blotches of ink sprawled, discarded words and the like.

Your name rolled of his tongue. So ever sweet, yet teasing.

"Mi corazón. I know I'm not good with words, but know that they're true when I say, you know better than anyone how difficult I can be. My nature and constant attitude often pushed people away." Here he pauses, a subtle softening in his eyes as he looks upon you.

"But you," he continues, "saw past all that. With your warmth and good humor, you stayed by my side. You eased my worries and made me feel understood. Because of you, I've learned that opening my heart does not make me weak - it makes me stronger." A little smile tugs at his lips now.

"I promise to cherish your love and welcome your light each day. You are the place I long to come to every day. My vow to you is this - I will strive to show you each day how much you and your faith in me mean. You are my partner in crime and all things, mi Pitufina. I am yours, now and always."

Your hand squeezed him tighter, noticing a little flush on his ears and cheeks.

"Thanks for giving me the honor of being your husband and the father of our child, mi niña."

You kissed his hand as he looked at Gabi as the crowd clapped.

"Miguel. Mi amor. Papasito"

The attendants chuckled and Miguel cleared his throat as you giggled.

"Ever since I saw you, I thought, damn he's tall. I'd climb him like a tree."

He couldn't help but choke. Gabriel cleared his throat, trying to suppress a laugh, Peter tittered under his breath and your dad stared intensely at Miguel.

Jessica face-palmed and MJ just smiled.

" But jokes aside, It surprised me you really went to open that beer with your teeth. And that alone made me curious about you and again I thought, yeah this man is mine." He rolled his eyes with a tiny smirk.

"We've been through so much that it's impossible to pick one single moment I wasn't fascinated by you."

His eyes softened and you squeezed his hands lovingly

"We've had our downs and up, cause no relationship is perfect nor easy. You've taught me so much about myself it's ridiculous how well you know me." You smiled,

"I know that I'm not the easiest woman to handle or be with some days, but know that you have someone that will be through thick and thin with you, yesterday, today and always."

You took a deep breath, "I can't wait to see what life has in store for us, Mi amor. Te amo. And I can't wait to kiss you."

He chuckled. Once the vows finished, the ceremony kept going. Gabi was the ring girl, and with the aid of Tia Isa, delivered the ring to you both.

Neither Miguel or you hesitated to say I do. Just made the moment even sweeter when you kissed as newlyweds.

"I introduce you, ladies and gentlemen to Mr. and Mrs. O'Hara"

The crowd cheered you both. Miguel took Gabi after you dad took several pictures with her.

She cooed upon seeing Miguel. Then, you both moved to the next location a couple of steps away.

Tables neatly adorned, the lights were set with an intensity enough to not overwhelm Miguel’s eyesight. Your dad took once more Gabi, letting you have the first dance with Miguel.

The soft and mellow beat of "My Love Mine All Mine" echoed through the speakers. Miguel hadn't tell you but he had been practicing a bit more his waltz. Funnily enough, Gabriel had been his dance dummy. Lots of crushed toes and sore feet later was worth your surprised face as he twirled you and swayed you through the song.

You thanked him with a big smooch and a smile. Your wedding rings clinked as you took each other's hands.

"Mr. O'Hara?"

"Yes?"

You got on your tiptoes and kissed him.

"You happy?"

He shrugged, earning a playful gasp from you.

"Been better"

"So mean!"

He took your chin and gave a little kiss

"I'm proud of you, Miguel." He huffed softly and you pulled a little strand from his hair as a revenge.

"I loved your vows."

"You kidding me? I nearly choked."

Giggling you lead him to your seats.

"Now, we gotta hear how people make fun of us."

"I will also too."

"Enough with your vows, cariño."

You giggled

"You looked like plum! All red!"

"Impossible not to when you said you wanna climb me like a tree"

You kissed him with a laugh, "Well yeah. I've climbed through those mountains-"

"Stop" His shoulders shook softly at the silent laugh he gave you.

"See? What would you do without me?"

"Probably overwork myself until death."

"I was being sarcastic, but still doesn't sounds good."

"I'm way too used to having you around."

Your eyes softened and hooked your hand in the joint of his forearm.

"Well, lucky for you, I'm stuck with you. Forever. Or until one of us deci-"

He nipped your ear. A clear Shut Up.

"You talk too much when nervous."

----

The rest of the wedding unfolded as expected. Almost everyone laughed at the friend's speeches about you two.

Gabriel gave a half funny half heartfelt speech about how happy he was for his brother. And Peter he plainly embarrassed Miguel by saying how much of a nervous and babbling mess your now husband was whenever you looked his way or interacted somehow with him.

And once the reception ended, you went to your hotel with Gabi.

You both were far too tired to actually have sex, or celebrate it.

Miguel had to remove Gabi since she fell asleep latching from your breast. He was tempted to wake you up by eating you out, instead he carried you to bed after putting Gabi next to your sleeping form that ended up in his arms.

Miguel O'Hara was now a married man.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Cute, pastel 1957 mid-century modern ranch style home in Phoenix, AZ. 3bds, 2ba, $489K.

It looks like they may have painted the original decorative stone front.

You don't usually see MCM homes done in pastels, b/c the colors of the period were bold. The creamy white fireplace looks lovely.

There is a skylight and the living room is quite large.

To the left there's a Tiki room and to the right is a dining room.

The Tiki room is adorable. It's like a little bamboo hut and has nice lighting. There's a large window that would probably look nice with the shade up in the daylight. I think that this room also needs a little bar, especially if it had a palm leaf roof.

I like the shutters in this room. You can probably also fit a table for 6 and maybe some nice wallpaper.

The kitchen is all original and all pastels. I love the pastels, especially the peachy pink and turquoise counter. I would do a backsplash, too.

Amazing original oven, cooktop, and exhaust hood.

This bedroom has a very cool floor. It could use a nice feature wall.

Bath #1 is so cute. Look at the little mermaid decals.

This room has wainscoting and a wood floor. I would probably change out the wallpaper.

Bath #2 has a cute new pedestal sink.

I'm wondering if this room, with the fancy ceiling and fan, is the primary.

The yard can use some some work. It's very drab, but definitely has potential. I know it's hot in Phoenix, but it really needs sprucing up. There's also a nice roof-top deck. This can be beautiful.

There's a 2 car garage, the lawn is probably fake turf, b/c Phoenix. 7,086 sq ft lot. It was reduced $6K, but I still feel that it's a little too high, b/c it needs a refresh.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/8026-N-10th-St-Phoenix-AZ-85020/7790268_zpid/

[causeitsagame]

Some good old-fashioned h/c

For @hajihiko, since there was nothing to read <3

"No, we cannot tell Makoto," Sonia insisted, and coughed up a wad of phlegm. "He puts himself at great risk with every visit."

"I know that," Hajime said, and traded the phlegm-y handful of palm fronds she'd grabbed along the way in favor of an actual tissue. After some time spent on the real islands, Makoto had asked them what else was needed for their recovery. The list was fortunately brief, but did have some small but critical items, like a pressure control valve for surgical anesthesia. Somehow, he'd managed to find the whole requested collection in the broken world out there.

"And so we cannot appear to be ungrateful," Sonia continued. She snorted, drawing a drooping bit of snot back up into her reddened nose. "Accepting necessary trade-offs without complaint is a part of negotiations and aid."

"It's Makoto," Hajime patiently countered as he led her back into her room. Other nearby doors were also closed, but she'd decided that she felt well enough to help prepare some broth for the others. It hadn't gone well; he'd found her slumped over in the kitchen. "He's not going to get mad if I clarify exactly what he brought to the island with him."

"No, we mustn't blame him," Sonia said weakly as Hajime steered her toward her bed.

"It's not blame. I just want to know."

"You mustn't," she insisted again as she let herself be maneuvered under a light blanket. Though the day was typically warm outside, she shook.

"…Fine," Hajime lied. "I won't call Makoto."

Sonia smiled gratefully up at him through reddened, watery features.

"Feel better. I'll check on you soon, all right?"

She nodded, coughed again, and curled up on her side.

With a reassuring smile, Hajime walked off to call Makoto.

"Sorry, I didn't realize," Makoto said on the video screen, and wiped roughly at his nose. Now into recovery, he had the pale, desaturated color scheme of a heavy illness draped over his otherwise sunny demeanor. "I didn't feel bad until I was already leaving. How are people doing? Do you need more medicine?"

"No, we're good." Hajime gestured over his shoulder, and coughed. "There's plenty of medicine in the clinics around the islands."

Makoto hesitated at Hajime's deep, rough cough. "Is it expired, though?"

"On the packages? Sure. In reality? Slightly reduced efficacy, easily adjusted for with a larger dose." Hajime coughed again against the back of his hand. "We're good."

"Okay," Makoto said uncertainly. "Call me again if you need to, all right?"

"We're fine." Hajime waved him off. "I should be able to toss this off pretty easily, and I can look after everyone else."

"Well. Okay. But seriously, you can call me."

"And we always appreciate it," Hajime assured him, and with a grateful nod, cut the call. Okay. Time to check on everyone else.

Akane complained, which was a good sign; she'd been the first to succumb, and her laying so still and quiet in bed had unpleasantly reminded everyone of the Despair Disease. "I've gotta have something more than just water," she griped as Hajime handed her a bowl, filled from the pot Sonia had left simmering.

"Broth," Hajime corrected. "And do your eyes feel all weird and prickly?"

"Yeah."

"Right. We need to get more fluids into you, first thing. That'll help you recover as quickly as possible. And if you need fluids, this is better than just water, right?"

"Yeah," she admitted, and drank some. "I guess."

"Okay. Drink some more of that until you feel better, and then real food is on the way." That encouraged her enough to treat the broth as an actual meal, and after a quick temperature check, Hajime moved on.

"I feel gross," Kazuichi whined.

Hajime turned to cough into his shoulder, heavy and deeper in his chest than when he'd talked to Makoto. It felt like it echoed inside him like a timpani, and Kazuichi had an eyebrow raised when he turned back to the man.

"You sound gross," Kazuichi added.

"I'm fine," Hajime insisted, and held up a stethoscope. "I want to listen to your chest."

Breathing was hindered by the sputum that this illness had brought to their respiratory tracts, but fortunately, it didn't sound any worse than yesterday. Kazuichi must be currently going through the worst of it, which meant that recovery was right ahead. "Cough for me into this," Hajime instructed, handing over a tissue.

Kazuichi did, and made a face as Hajime inspected what he'd coughed up. "And that is gross."

"The infection is on the mend," Hajime dryly confirmed as he tossed the tissue in a nearby bin. "And you're welcome. I'll bring soup."

"…Did you make the soup, or…"

"Sonia."

Kazuichi's grimace deepened as much as his illness-exhausted muscles would allow.

"She knows how to make a decent vegetable broth, by now. It tastes fine. Really. Be back in a sec."

Outside Kazuichi's cottage, Hajime felt a deep, insistent pressure build up in his chest. He hurried away from the open window, far enough that the noises he was about to make would blend into the rush of waves on the shore.

The cough ripped out of him painfully hard. He could feel it dislodge substances inside him that shouldn't be there; the illness everyone else was dealing with had also settled into his own respiratory tract. With another few deep coughs, Hajime cleared his throat and stood. His immune system was part of his generally improved body. That, along with his medical knowledge, meant that he was the best-suited person on this island to look after everyone else. And so he'd do exactly that.

"Hey," Hajime quietly called out as he entered the last cottage. He'd stopped by the kitchen for Kazuichi's broth, and another bowl of it was still in hand. "How are you doing?"

While Hajime was the best-suited to throw off an illness, Fuyuhiko was expectedly having the roughest time of it. He'd succumbed soon after Akane, but while she'd rebounded enough to complain and regain her appetite, Fuyuhiko remained a quiet, pliant lump under his blankets.

Silence in return to his question twisted an anxious knife in Hajime's chest. Suddenly fearful, he leaned over Fuyuhiko's still form.

And then he coughed on him, deep and loud.

Grimacing, Fuyuhiko stirred and looked up at Hajime with an accusing eye. "What?" The question was deep, raspy. Between damage from days of coughing and the illness his body still fought, his voice had dropped half an octave and most of its volume.

"Just checking on you," Hajime said. "I brought this. Can you sit up?"

Fuyuhiko flicked his gaze to the bowl Hajime held, then away. It was a silent but clear 'no thanks.'

"You need to eat," Hajime insisted.

Illness weakened people, and Fuyuhiko apparently dealt with illness about as well as he did with anything that made him feel weak: it pissed him off.

He'd been even more uncooperative than Akane. Although she'd fortunately rebounded quite a bit after the pods, giving her some physical reserves, Fuyuhiko had been an easy target for the disease clawing through everyone's system. He'd been left nearly motionless, only able to manage the short trip to the bathroom without exhausting himself. He relied on Hajime for food, medical attention, and anything else, and it infuriated him.

"The faster you recover, the faster you can get out of this room," Hajime pointed out. "And you're not going to recover if you starve yourself."

Fuyuhiko didn't want to agree with that, clearly. Fortunately for his pride, he could simply stay silent.

Hajime sighed. "Would you just—"

He barely set the bowl down in time before another cough ripped through him, doubling him over. He felt his abdominal muscles clench hard, almost like he was vomiting, as his airway was forcefully cleared. He gasped when he regained control of his breathing, felt his throat catch again on some of the mucus coating it, and fell into a second helpless round of coughing.

"One second," Hajime wheezed, and wiped his teary, bloodshot eyes.

In Fuyuhiko's bathroom, Hajime wiped down his face with one tissue and coughed hard into a second. The sputum had tinges of color just like what he'd inspected on Kazuichi: the infection was finally settling into Hajime's lungs, too. But it was mild, only there in small streaks, and so there wasn't any need to worry. Certainly, he was in much better shape than any of the rest of them, especially Fuyuhiko.

When Hajime exited back into the main room, Fuyuhiko was making an awkward attempt at the soup left next to him.

"Oh," Hajime said in pleased surprise, and cleared his throat again. "Need any help?"

Fuyuhiko eyed him speculatively. "No. Hey. Is there any medicine I should be taking?"

Hajime's eyebrows further rose. Fuyuhiko had rejected most of his suggestions before this, saying he didn't need it. "Yeah, there are a few different things I'd like to put you on."

"Go get 'em."

Not about to argue with a patient suddenly cooperating, Hajime did so. On the way, he stopped twice more to double over, hacking and coughing until tears squeezed out of his eyes.

Two days later, he tried to get out of bed to monitor everyone's recovery, and… couldn't. Hajime's muscles were tired like he couldn't remember, and every breath was thin and labored. He could feel the heat and humidity of the islands laying across his skin like a slimy, stifling weight, and yet the core of his body felt chilled and vulnerable. Hajime pulled a blanket over his shoulders and curled inward on himself.

Ten minutes passed, and his door opened under Sonia's mostly-steady hand. "We knew it," she sighed. "Yesterday, you were clearly on a steep decline."

"How's everyone doing?" Hajime asked. Or tried to, anyway; the words came out all mumbled.

"Good enough to check in on you!" Kazuichi promised, walking in with a bowl of soup. Behind him, Akane carried three thermoses, presumably full of the same.

"No," Hajime protested, seeing them all up and walking around. "You need to." His medical assessments weren't coming together like they had, and so he struggled with finding the instructions to issue. "Cough. Tissue."

"We're all clear," Kazuichi promised with a big thumbs-up. "Just normal snot, no infections."

Sonia smiled awkwardly. It was a curious mixture between celebration of their improved health and not wanting to have physical matters mentioned. Princesses weren't raised to acknowledge bodily issues, presumably.

"Oh." Well, that was good. Hajime let out a few rough, hacking coughs again, then found the next words he'd been struggling for. "Where's Fuyuhiko?"

As if cued, the man brushed past Kazuichi. Unlike everyone else, who appeared well on the path to recovery by now, Fuyuhiko was clearly still in the grips of the illness. He at least looked better than he had, though, even as he had a light blanket clutched around him and would probably go straight back to bed. "You probably know which one of these to take, yeah?"

Hajime managed a faint smile as more than a dozen different medications were deposited on his nightstand. The pile included every medicine he'd pulled for Fuyuhiko, along with what must be every other medicine that Fuyuhiko had decided looked even remotely related when he made his own visit to the nearest clinic. "Yeah. I see what I need."

"Good." Fuyuhiko found a small smile of his own, though it was an odd-looking expression after their collective illness had torn so deeply into him. "When I saw you acting like a dumbass, I figured I'd better heal up fast."

"M'not a dumbass," Hajime protested.

"You will stay in bed for the next three days," Sonia proclaimed, bringing the full weight of her lifelong training to bear. "We will not permit you to further exert yourself, Hajime, and will look after you as you have looked after us."

Hajime opened his mouth, took in everyone's visibly improved states, and closed it. That… that didn't sound too bad. "Okay," he relented. "But Fuyuhiko'd better do the same." Fuyuhiko had improved, yes, but 'can stand and walk, only with great effort' wasn't exactly reassuring.

Instinctive stubbornness slammed into Fuyuhiko's expression, and he opened his mouth to argue.

"Get back into bed," Hajime said, mostly into his pillow, "or I'll get up to check on you."

"…One more day," Fuyuhiko accepted, clearly with great reluctance.

"Fine." Hajime coughed. "Someone get me three pills from the. Bottle with the uh. Uh. Green cap." Sonia stepped forward toward the bottles, and Hajime admitted to her, "I called Makoto."

"I assumed as much," she sighed, though it came with a smile. "Will you need help with these pills?"

"Yeah, I'll need help sitting up," Hajime said, and saw Akane head his way to do so as Sonia disappeared into the bathroom for a glass of water. At the doorway, Fuyuhiko actually let himself be led off by Kazuichi.

As he felt Akane carefully tilt him up from the bed, Hajime sighed and let his eyes fall closed. Her grip was steady and sure, and Sonia sounded confident as she rattled off the (expected) name on the requested bottle, wanting confirmation before she administered it.

Obediently, Hajime opened his mouth for the first pill, and swallowed it down with the mouthful of water she then offered. And then again, and again. Sonia's voice next promised that she'd check on Fuyuhiko as the day went on, too, and so there was no need for him to worry.

Reassured, Hajime nodded as Akane arranged him back under his blanket. "Thanks."

His instincts began to rattle off all of the checklist items he should tackle, but for once, Hajime ignored them.

For now, he'd let someone else be in charge.

[romana-after-dark]

Rooms on Fire: Sundown

Dark!Santiago Garcia x Fem!Reader

Dark!Francisco Morales x Fem!Reader

Dark!William Miller x Fem!Reader

Dark!Benjamin Miller x Fem!Reader

Also: FishBen, and an assortment of other M/M relationships (no Millercest). Everyone is Bisexual

Series Masterlist: Main Masterlist

Spotify playlist

Summery: Ben shows his true colors

Warnings and Content:

DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

DUB CON MOSTLY but there WILL BE NON CON. Major character deaths, forced breeding, physical abuse, brainwashing, manipulation, violence, gore, alcoholism/addiction, BIG OLE BLASPHEMY WARNING like this cult appropriates a lot of religious themes and they call reader their Madonna, Santi is called the Pope, like all that stuff. However, this is a cult so I mean. It happens. None of it are my thoughts on religion or meant to make fun of religion or demonize religious people. Disgusting views on virginity. Attempted rape outside the boys. T*m warning. Age gap. Creepy terrible men. Non-reader rape, dub con, violence. Covert incest, massive mommy issues, sexual abuse all around, past grooming by parental figure. no CSA but the victim isn't much older. some Bates Motel type shit. I cannot properly warn you for everything, without just telling the story but consider this a major warning that there are dark dark themes. No one involved here is morally clean, and who you perceive as the good guy cannot be relied on. Don't come to my story and say im romanticizing these things until at least the story ends.

Extra warnings for chapter: Oh my god the violence. Violent is here. Im so sorry.

4.4k words

"I can picture every move that a man could make Getting lost in her loving is your first mistake Sundown, you better take care If I find you been creeping 'round my back stairs Sometimes I think it's a sin When I feel like I'm winning, when I'm losing again" ~Sundown, Gordon Lightfoot

Rey always had a way of making things better.

You were sat on the kitchen counter in a loose tank top and baggy shorts that may or may not be Will’s boxers, watching Ray cook for you an Iris. She’d been feeling unwell this morning, no doubt the stress of everything that happened the last few weeks getting to her normally impenetrable facade. You found out she caught the tail end of what Will did to Jonah. Now both of you had watched your fathers die.

But Rey had been emotional support to both of you. You leaned more on your husbands, but Rey gave a sense of normalcy. He was a lot like Ben, making it so you could let go of the guilt that plagued you constantly, clearing your mind of the swirling thoughts of Beatriz and Santiago’s true natures.

Will was safe. Protective and gentle and strong, he continued to dot on you, massaging vitamin c oil into your scars to reduce them now that they could take a little bit of pressure. Your healer, your guardian. You thanked him profusely for protecting you against Jonah’s attempt to rape you, even if parts of you still wished he wasn’t dead.

Francisco was who you were the most honest with. You could tell him how you felt about Santiago and Beatriz, work out your confusing thoughts in soft whispers when you were with only him. Santiago never let Francisco sleep with you anymore at night.  

Walking past you to open the oven, he gave your hand a squeeze, lingering a bit. There was nothing romantic or sexual about it; he just wanted you to feel better. To know he was there. He was better than this place, you knew now. Better than this world.

“Madonna! There you are!” Ben rushes in with Will behind him, reaching for you. “Christ! I was worried!”

You’re a bit shocked, but can’t help sliding into his arms. “What do you mean? I’m right here…”

Ben holds you close, your body pressed against his, skin to skin making you cringe. It wasn’t him, it was the idea of touch lately at all. 

Will clarified. “You said you were going to be in the garden, we were worried when we didn’t see you.”

You try to squirm out of Ben’s arms. His grip is hard and uncomfortable… he’s too close. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, just- ow, Ben- I didn’t think I needed to let you know? I never did before… Ben, please-” He’s kissing you now, your cheek, your neck, your lips… you don’t want Rey and Iris to see you like this… You hear Iris say something, but can’t quite make it out.

“That was before. With everything that’s happened, Jonah, the assasination attempt, we need to know where you are, always.” You didn’t like him talking about Jonah in front of Iris. You didn’t like him talking about Jonah in general. You squirm and try to dodge his kisses.

He rubs against the deepest burn on your belly, making you whimper, trying to push him away. Memories of Jonah’s attack flash in your hands, and suddenly he’s pulled off you. You think for a moment it’s Will, but you see Ben’s blonde hair fisted in Iris’s hand.

“She said stop!” Iris yanks him away and horror drops in your stomach. Ben wouldn’t hurt her, no, you didn’t need to worry, Ben was loving, fun, sunshine- He swung, clocking Iris on the jaw.

What happened next was a blur. Reyansh was on Ben is a second, a rage you’d never seen from your sweet guard before, and the two rays of sunshine throwing hands. Reyansh is slammed against the wall and you shout, wanting to run to him but before you even move Will’s hand is on your wrist. You watch two men you love beating on each other, Rey kneeing Ben in the balls and throwing him to the ground where he momentarily had the advantage. Ben, however, gripped Rey’s hair and used the momentum to roll their bodies over so Ben was on top. You’d seen Ben use the same move during sex. 

“WILL! DO SOMETHING!” You scream, watching them hurt each other but Ben with the clear advantage. Still, all he does is hold you back, fingers stroking your hair in an attempt to placate you, but you can’t stand by… still, you can’t get in the middle of a bloody fist fight, especially after watching Jonah die… why couldn’t Will step in when he clearly had the strength to? Ben has the upper hand, and looks like he’s close to killing rey the way Jonah died.

You see Iris make a move to get Ben off him, and Francisco who was previously frozen in shock runs to her. She tried to get out of his grasp, but he simply pushes her away and tackles Ben down. Francisco uses his weight to pin him, using a soothing voice to try and calm the fit. You yank your hand, hand, releasing it from Will’s grasp and painfully pulling on the burnt skin but you needed to get to Rey. Iris pulls his head on her lap, and he spits out some blood onto her dress but gives his girl a weak smile.

“You alright, my love?” He asks her, despite you cleaning blood off his face and her seeming unharmed.

She chuckles, crying but gives him a smile as well. “I’m alright, baby. I’m alright.”

Will is standing above you. You see Ben and Francisco are rising now, Frankie still holding Ben.

“What the hell was that, Saha!”

Rey doesn’t dignify Will with an answer, but you turn to him, giving a little bite to your tone. 

“He was defending his girl, Will. You’d done the same for me.”

“Madonna…” He warning in a stern voice, one that made you feel like a child being admonished by a house mother again. “He is a guardsmen, sworn to protect us, not throw punch-”

You looked up at him again, snapping. “He hit Iris!”

Ben chimed in with a ‘She hurt me first!’ but Will ignored him. “She involved herself in something she had no business to.”

“But Ben!-” You were cut off my Iris whispering your name. Her eyes were fearful… and you realize they held the same glint as when you caught her and Ben together… She mouthed, ‘don’t.’

Your eyes never leave hers. “Well, she’s my friend and he’s my personal guard so she’s under my protection.”

Fracicsco’s arms pull you, careful not to touch your sensitive parts. He’s telling you to go, but you worry for Rey and Iris.

“Will, you can’t hurt them, please?”

“I’m not-”

“But you are!” You pull at Francisco’s hand. “You are, because they hurt Ben but please! Don’t!”

Will sighs, shoulders relaxing down as he decides not to lie. “Madonna, they have to be punished. I promise it won’t be harsh.” His blue eyes look remorseful and honest, like he’s resigned to his duties. You trust he wouldn’t be unnecessarily cruel and you knew punishment was important in corrections… but this was Rey and Iris, your friends… Rey, who had only ever loved and protected you. Iris, despite everything, she took care of you. 

This time when you pull your arm Francisco lets go, and you rush to Will. You reach for his face, cupping it as you stare into his eyes. Will’s expression was soft, indulgent. He was listening. “Look at him, Will.” You gesture to where Reyansh still bloodied Iris’s skirts. “They both got hit, and Rey took enough for both, don’t you think?”

He seemed sympathetic to the pain Rey was in. “That’s the natural consequence of a fight, Madonna. I need to punish them properly, according to our rules.”

Tears fill your eyes and you hear Ben grumble, Francisco shushing him. “My husband, my love…” You beg him in choked words. You try to appeal to his sense of ownership over Rey and the guards. “He’s your guard, and someone hurt him… can’t we just call it even? Please?”

“No, Madonna.”

Rey coughs from the ground below you, trying to sit up. “I can take it, Will. Just don’t hurt Iris.”

With that, Will’s face shifts. This pulls at something and you take it. “He was just trying to protect her! You’d do the same if anyone hit me, Will, please you killed a man for me, you killed Melanie for me, I know you understand…” You take his hand in yours, kissing his knuckles that were still healing for beating Jonah to death. “Please… there's been so much pain here this week… I promise, I promise they learned.”

Ben must've seen Will considering, because he spoke. “Don’t let them get away with it, that bitch put her hands on me!”

His language shocked you, never hearing him talk like that, and Francisco saw the look in your eyes. “Will, c’mon… I think his nose is broken… and Iris just lost her dad… Madonna is under a lot of stress, don’t give her more.”

Finally, Will sighs despite Ben’s protests. He walks over to where Iris and Rey sit and helps them both up. “Go.” He says to Iris. “You can use my medicine closet. Patch him up. I expect him back on duty tonight.”

“Will! What the hell!” Ben shouts but you run up to Will, giving him a short peck on the cheek and whispering thank you.

Will tells Ben to fuck off, and goes to unlock his medicine for Reyansh. Iris turns and gives you a smile. 

“You just like to touch everyone but me, don’t you?” Ben’s words shock you back to reality.

“What? Ben… it’s not…” You reach for Francisco’s hand for security as he admonishes Ben, but he continues.

“You kiss Will, and I see you holding Saha’s hand, and now Frankie? But don’t think I’ve noticed you havn’t fucked me!”

“Benjamin!” Francisco shouts as you shrink at Ben’s words. He’s never spoken to you like this, and you don’t think you’ve ever even seen him angry, certainly not at you. “She’s had a traumatic months for fucks sake! Between Santi and Jonah can you go without pussy for a few fucking days?”

“I don’t know Frank, can you go without Santi’s dick in your ass for more than a few days?”

For the next several minutes, the two argued, exchanging heated words and painful secrets. You’d learned Francisco fucks Santiago every night, and the dark spots on his neck were from the husband who’d burned you alive. You learned Ben was sleeping with half of delta still. You learned there was a whole word that existed between the four of them that not only happened before you, but existed outside of you. You thought you were the nucleus holding them together. Instead, you were just the meal they feasted on.

*

You were finally well enough for him to take you on the horse, a careful walk, out to your meadows again. By now, you were too big to straddle him with his cock inside you and your skin and belly couldn’t bear his body against you. So, as you watched him set up the blanket, you knew you’d miss the feeling of napping in the warm sun with his cock stretching you.

“C’mere, baby.” Francisco helps you sit and then lay down, pulling you close with you using his meaty arm as a pillow.

“I miss you.” You mutter, and he kisses your neck.

His hand holds your stomach, feeling your baby kick. “I’m right here”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“I know.”

There was silence for a moment, letting the birds sing and breeze below through the rustling grass. It was so nice out, and you were thankful for your skimpy dress. You are reminded of all the times you laid here, endless hours making him flower crowns, braiding the little ones into his hair, kissing him, napping… all while he’s stuffed inside you, your skirt spread around your thighs. How many times has Jonah seen you like this? Had he watched from the trees as you fucked in languid strokes, not even trying to cum but just to feel him bucking into you? 

Or when Santiago had tripped you, burning your cothes off, fucking you by the fire… had Jonah stood and watched? Had he taken in the view, his own pornography, before helping you? Or when Francisco finger fucked you on the horse, had he savored your sweet sounds and memorized them for nights alone with his fist? How long had he wanted you? How long had he taken even innocent moments and turned them into something vile? 

You felt Francisco’s hard cock nestled between your ass cheeks, and by instinct you scoot away just a tiny bit.

“Shit, I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry Madonna I’m not trying too- I don’t know why-”

“It’s okay.” No one had been inside you since Jonah’s attempt, you barely let them touch you… but you had to trust Francisco, right? He was good. He was so, so good. “It’s… it’s okay…”

The feeling of him shaking his head russells your hair. “No, no love, it’s not…” He’s pulling back from you and you miss the warmth of his body so you reach back and grab him. 

“I miss you…” You choke out. “I miss feeling you inside me… I miss you… please? I want you so bad, Francisco.”

“Baby…” He caresses you cheek with the back of his hand. “You’ve been through a lot…”

“And I don’t want it to change us. Santiago, Jonah… I won’t let them tear us apart…”

He kisses the back of your head. “They won’t. I won’t ever let that happen. You are more important than them.”

It slips out before you can stop. “Am I more important than Ben?”

“I love you.”

You don’t have it in you to press further, instead you arch your back so that your ass brushes against his cock in his pants. “So much has happened… I need this… I need to know you still love me.”

He sighs, stating firmly. “I do love you…” but he moved to unbuckle his pants. You wished you could see him, you wished you could see the way his belly folded over his jeans. You wished you could run your hands over the skin and feel the hair on his chest. But you weren’t ready for that. Instead you just relaxed into his arms, relaxed into him, his safety, his protection. When he pushes your skirt up, his hands are large over your asscheeks and you enjoy feeling covered by him. When he slides in, your body makes room for the familiar feeling.

“Do you want me to make love to you? Or do you just want me inside?”

“Make love, please…”

A gentle kiss on the cheek. “Anything for you.”

*

Sliding inside you once again, Frankie felt a homecoming. He loved the long hours you and him would spend here, cumming inside you multiple times but keeping you plugged up with his cum. He wished he hadn’t wasted so much time getting inside you properly, loving you the way you wanted to… he would have knocked you up first if he’d been going at this rate… but now, the odds weren’t in his favor.

Frankie revelled in the sound of your mewling, soft and tender like a little kitten… his to protect. As he slowly thrust into you, he vowed he wouldn’t let anyon hurt you again. He needed to talk to Ben, to Will… he needed them to get on board. You clearly cared for Iris and Rey and they cared for you, so he needed to make sure they were protected. Ben had been sneaking out more, going into the community to presumably fuck some other young niave thing… but a rule had been laid about Iris. The fact she was fucking him had been out of her character anyway, but it was over now.

Ben needed to stop sleeping with everyone he could get his hands on, and he needed to respect Madonna’s personal space and boundaries. He was not entitled to her body, especially after all this happened.

Looking up the hill and into the trees, Francisco saw Ben. He stood tall, a scowl on his face; he didn’t like that he got to be inside you.

Francisco sped up his movements, fucking up into you and making you cry out in pleasure. You were unaware of your audience. He never let up eye contact as he rammed his cock into your core and pressed you close to him. His hands felt you up, showing Ben what he was missing. Sitting atop his horse, Francisco watched as Benjamin pulled out his dick and began stroking himself furiously. It was a scramble after that, Frankie wanting you to cum before Ben did, to ruin his little show but still show off what Frankie could do, the sounds you could make. 

“Francisco…” You whine, and he buries his face in your neck after checking your eyes were still closed, lost in pleasure.

“I’m right here, Madonna. Always right here…” His longer fingers swirled your clit, and he knew you were close by the way you were clenching down hard. Perfect, you were perfect. Your body shook in his arms as he filled you, the sweet sounds of your orgasm echoing through the meadow valleys and hills and up to Ben’s ears. Francisco didn’t see if he came; he didn’t care anymore. He needed to take care of his Madonna, for suddenly you were crying.

“I wish it was you.” You sob into his sleeved up arm. He was thankful today didn’t require undressing. He didn’t want to have to explain the cuts. 

“What do you-”

“The baby! I wish it was yours!”

He brushes a stray lock out of your face as he attempts to sooth you. “May it is… we don’t know…”

“It’s not.” You shake your head. “It’s Will or Bens. I just know it. Those first months, you barely touched me, and after I fail the first time Santiago only touched me once a night!” The way you had switched from Pope to Santiago was not lost on him. “It’s one of them!”

“Is that a bad thing? They’ll love that baby too, just like I will.”

“SANTIAGO WILL KILL ME!”

You explained yourself then, what Santi said. How he threatened you. You had one job, according to him, and that was to get pregnant. It wasn’t suppossed to matter if it was by the Millers, by Santi or himself… but of course, of course Santi had to fuck with you more, because it isn’t really about the savior for Santi.

It’s about Frankie.

*

It had been a few days and Rey’s face looked awful. He had definitely broken his nose, bruising showing deeply despite his brown skin. 

“I’m fine, swear to the gods.” He promises after catching you staring at his face. 

“Your eye is almost swollen shut.”

“Like I said, totally fine.” he jokes and you give him a little kick from where you sat on the counter. Iris was feeling sick so Rey and you were taking over cooking dinner. The pineapple upside down cake was in the oven, and Rey was working on the main dish right now. 

He watched you watching him, hesitating before he spoke, his tone more sololm than you were used to. “If you could leave… would you?” He watches your eyes go wide, so he rushed to explain more. “You’re pregnant with the savior, there's nothing that says he needs to be raised here! You told me yourself, Beatriz was evil, Santi… sweetie c’mon he threatened you if the baby is blonde! What if he kills the savior when they are born?”

“Rey!” You whisper harshly. “You’re talking heresy!” Your eyes are wide.

He chuckles tiredly. “We crossed that line a while ago… Listen… I know you love that baby, I know you want them to grow up safe and happy but that can’t be here. You’re husbands, they are batship insane and you know it.”

“No.” You shake your head, refusing to accept it. “No, it’s just… Santi, I think he needs help… I can help him, I can make him a better-”

Reyansh grips your shoulders now, an intensity you weren’t expecting. “No! You can’t! It's not just you, you have to realize that. He didn’t hurt you because you did anything wrong. You take off Frankie’s shirt right now and you’ll see a fucking masscure because he’s fucking losing it! He’s dangerous! And Ben, he-”

 Reyansh stops, voice cracking and you notice the wetness of his eyes. The pain is etched into every line on his young face. “He rapes my wife. My beautiful, precious wife- he… and I didn’t know, this whole time I had no idea what he’s been doing to her…” You can see he’s crying now, and you’re frozen in fear, reaching for his wet face. “I just let it happen this whole time but now I know the truth, and it’s not happening again and I can’t bear to see you get hurt again. I’m gonna get her out, and I want you to come. I don’t want to leave you here but… I have to protect my family. I want that family to mean you too, anuja.”

There was so much to process here, your mind was whirling from everything you were told, but the idea of Iris and Ben… Did you walk in on her being raped by your husband? Had Ben truly tried to get you in on it, to kiss and touch her while she was raped? To make you an accomplice in his crimes? You think of how she looked at you… fuck, how could you not see it? How did you think she was willingly a part of it when it was clear she loved Reyansh? And you treated her so horrible after…

“I’m gonna be sick.” 

Your head spins, and Rey wraps his arms around to set your feet on the floor again. The hand that gently touched his wet, bearded cheek now was on his shoulder to steady yourself as he slid you down from the counter. His arms firm but chaste around you as he pressed against the marble.

“Hey take a deep breath-” His face was ripped away from you, eyes wide as Rey was pulled back by his hair. Then, before you can react, his already bruised head is slammed into the corner of the countertop.

He begins screaming and you do too. 

You can see Santiago in the doorway, but he makes no attempt to stop the events unfolding in front of you, does nothing as Ben grabs the kitchen knife and throws it directly into Reyansh’s chest where he lay in agony. The scene has begun to garner a crowd, Frankie running in at the sounds of your screams but freezes in shock as blood files the kitchen once again.

“BEN! STOP!!!” You scream, but Ben’s eyes are crazed and he’s screaming at Rey not to touch you.

You aren’t sure the exact moment his eyes go dead and body falls limp, no longer reacting to the mass of stabs Ben continues to inflict, but you know it’s already too late when Iris bursts in, screaming her lover’s name. When she runs to where Ben is slowing down, straddling over your best friend’s dead body, Francisco reacts quickly, scooping her up and grabbing Iris’s arms behind her back. 

“REY! REY! REY!” Iris screams non stop, fighting to get out of Francisco’s grasp as he tells her it’s too dangerous. 

Finally, Ben falls over, panting in exhaustion. He throws up on the floor and you realize he’s drunk. The smells of vomit mixes with copper in the the room as the fluids run together. You are barely standing, knees weak, palms sweaty, unable to process what you’ve seen as Ben stands up and stumbles towards you. Will is in the room now, taking it all in, muttering ‘jesus christ Benny… what did you do…’

But walks towards you, a bright smile of white teeth a strange flash of color among the red covering his face. Red. He’s covered in Reyansh’s blood.

“Hey baby, wanna give me a kiss?”

Ben is pulled away from you.

“WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU!” Francisco screams to him and you slide to the ground.

“He was touching her!” Ben tries to defend, but francisco is infuriated. He shoved Ben away, moving him to the door. On the ground, Iris is desperately trying to get Rey to come alive. The shakes, the touches to his face, the wretched sobs and ugly cries do nothing as he lays limp in her arms.

“FUCK YOU BENNY! HE WAS HER FRIEND! HE WAS MINE!” Francisco shoves him hard, making Ben stumble into Santiago.

Will steps up, gathering his fist in Francisco’s shirt. “Hey! Keep your fucking hands off him!” In which Santiago steps in and says something similar to Will. They begin to argue and fight and scream at each other; you are left on the floor, inconsequential. When you have the courage to look at Rey’s mangled corpse again, you gather the courage to crawl to him. Up close, the carnage in unbelievable.

There are massive gashes in him, holes in his body you can’t believe he had the strength and rage to go that hard into so many times. A stabwound in his eye.  A hole in his cheek.

“Rey…” You sob, reaching out for your bloodied friend. The door shuts behind you and you aren’t sure whose left. “Im so sorry, I’m so, so-”

Iris shoves you backwards, forcing you to fall softly on your butt. “GET AWAY FROM HIM!” She screams at you, and you sit in shock. She’s never spoken to you like this.

“Iris-”

“I TOLD YOU! I TOLD YOU THAT YOU WERE DANGEROUS TERRITORY!”

Francisco’s arms are around you, a feeling you’d recognize instantly. “I D-didn’t- I did mean-”

“You NEVER DO!” Her eyes are vicious, a fury that far surpassed anything you’ve ever seen in your life. “You are so goddamn stupid, walzing around here like you live in  FUCKING FARIE TALE and leave a trail of dead bodies behind you! You dad, Jonah, and now YOU HAD TO GET MY REY KILLED!”

You are speechless. She’s right. Everything is your fault. Jonah said your dad just wanted a better life for you… was that drive the reason the uprising started? Was the death of him, Deacon Tom, Delilah and all the rebels your fault? She had said she didn’t blame you for Jonah… but now her voice joins the chores of everyone else in your life… it was all your fault.

Francisco picks you up.

I'm so sorry

Months and months ago while constructing this story, I had a friend i was working on it a lot with. She had a big hand in creating Iris and Rey. The entire time, before it was entirely planned out even, I knew he was going to die. I knew there was no happy ending to be had for Iris and Reyansh. And that made some scenes very hard too write. Rey didn't deserve any of it. He was a good man who loved his "wife." (not legally married bc cult stuff but in all the ways that matter, they were.)

There is no going back from this now. Madonna is shown who Ben and Santi are.

The last poll i fucked up! It was suppossed to be who does BEN love most lol

Save the children (which has absolutely nothing to do with QAnon who hijacked their hashtag) our currently supporting relief efforts in the Congo above our listed some quick facts that I hope you’ll take a moment to read, and if you can afford it, please consider making a donation. I have made a small one, but if we band together small donations make a difference

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LOVE YOU ALL!

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[rae-pottah]

"You're good with kids"

C/n = code name

*Ghost's POV*

I hear crying to my left, pictures flash through my head, what if it's a trap, what if its a child dying, what if I can't save them? This job isn't worth it if I don't try. I turn the corner to see a child just standing there screaming... what do I- oh

"C/N!" the child turns to me and runs up to me, flinching, the child hugs my leg

"Yeah Ghos- oh...pfft"

"Don't laugh! Get this thing off me!" I whisper yell at them

"Alright- alright, hey sweet heart, whats your name" they ask the kid

"S-stevi" he says through broken sobs

"Well, hello Stevi, I'm c/n, and this is Ghost. How old are you Stevi?"

"f-f-four" he stutters out slowly reducing the crying

"Wow! You're a big boy! Do you want to come with us, we can keep you safe and take care of you, until we can get you to other people?" the kid nodded and slowly let go of my leg, holding on to Y/n as tight as possible as she ducked and I covered her back to the Truck, finally when we got there we seen the rest of the 141 done with the mission already, waiting on us.

"WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?!" Price yells and sends the kid behind me again holding on to my leg, a loud

SMACK

and Price's head was turned to the left

"First of all, never yell at me, second of all, if you ever yell in front of this child again I'll have Ghost bury your body" Y/n says plainly

--

*Back at the base*Y/n's POV*

We had converted an interrogation room into a play room, and bedroom. As I looked in the window I could see the printed off coloring pages and colorful pens being used by both Stevi and Ghost, they sat together coloring on the table, Ghost had a picture of skeletons dancing and Stevi had a picture of a puppy. Ghost snapped his head up from the table looking straight at me and told Stevi he'll be back. He opened and closed the door slowly and quietly

"You're good with kids" I told him

"meh, you are, what you did in the field was impressive" he said shrugging off my words

"heh- thanks"

"I kinda want to keep him"

"me too, you think they'll let us adopt him and keep him here?"

"that's be dangerous"

"yeah, but we could always teach him, also I've been planning on asking about using some money I have saved to build a safe room, I could add a bedroom in there?"

"You really think that would work?"

"I don't know"

-----*3 years later(Y/n's POV)*-----

Stevi ran through the turned living room in the base

"Stevi slow down I don't want you falling!" I yelled from the kitchen

"Sorry Mom! AH! DAD PUT ME DOWN" I turned around to see Simon holding Stevi on his shoulder upside down

"Si, be careful!" I raised my voice

"We are, we are. mm today is Saturday, we're going to the graves today right?"

"Yes, we are." I let him know, a few minutes later we were walking down the hill inside the base fences, slowly we could see the two graves, on one: "To all the fallen innocent souls, Shall you rest in peace" on the other: "To my Mother, Father and Sister, Lealla, My memories are small and old, but never forgotten, With love, Your son, Steven"

"You okay baby?" I ask Stevi

"Yeah, thank you for always coming here with me" he says, just like every Saturday

@nyen65432

[nemkero]

its the same anon as before-

Can I just say I love the way you add depth to the skin tones and I also love your color line art?

The textures and expressions ahahghjdbhjdgjdfbdf <3 not to mention the lighting on some of these are just great!

uh if you don't mind can you tell me how you do your colors? Like the base ones I don't mean all the lighting stuff

im still fairly new to digital art so how do you color inside the character instead of just each individual shape?

jfbdskjbjksfbdf thank you ^v^

THANK YOU SO MUCHH!!!! much appreciated c:

im pretty bad at explaining it but usually i just use much more saturated and warm colors in my art since im biased (i like warm tones a lot) and i also think it more eyecatching!

heres an example-- i make the values generally similar with mainly the darker colors (hair, shoulder thingy) being lightened slightly to reduce contrast so its more easy on the eye & makes it look softer ig? i also like to choose one color in particular to "base" all the other colors around, and that color is usually some sort of primary color and the most saturated. in this case, its a red/orange color, so i had all of my other colors shift closer to it (in reference to the color wheel)

heres another (really crappy LOL) example based around a more orange tone (though looking at it i think i made sokka a little too orange... whoops) and if you look at the values themselves...

basically the same! most of this is just preference too so its not like you need to REALLY stick to the original values or anything, but all that id look out for is that you pay most attention to stuff like skin tones just to make sure youre not like whitewashing by accident lol

im overcomplicating things but its kinda just something i think you learn over time? the way i figured colors out was by abandoning any and all reliance on blending layers (stuff like multiply, add, overlay, etc.) and just eyeballing literally everything and it kinda forced me to figure out how to make colors look good without relying on filters!

as for blocking in colors in general... i forget how to draw sometimes so im never really consistent with it LOL but lasso fill is your best friend! i either just use a random color and lasso fill the whole character manually (left) and set that layer to alpha lock/protect alpha, or i just lasso fill each color individually (right) bc im a freak sometimes

what i recommend doing/the fastest way is using the magic wand to select outside of your lines, invert the selection and then fill in the selection with a color and setting that to alpha lock.

i dont use it as much anymore mostly because i dont line so my stuff is really sketchy (so stuff like on the right happens) and i kinda like messy coloring anyways soooo... but yeah!!! i dont really recommend using the fill bucket that much unless the situation calls for it c:

(and if you do struggle with this and ur results look like whats on the right, try just manually closing your lines or seeing if your wand has an option for automatically closing gaps!)

[rocknroll7575]

Warped metal

Mercury: OK you have to know she is fucked in the head right?

Emerald: SHE'S NOT SHE'S DONE NOTHING BUT HELP ME

Mercury: Look at how she treats that blonde guy the one person she sees as a friend the guy looks at her with more fear than a kid does with a beowolf charging at them

Neo:'Yeah and on top of that who do you think gave him all those scars that's just plane torture at that point

Cinder lay on the cold, cracked ground of Beacon, her left eye and arm brutally torn away, leaving nothing but mangled flesh and blood-soaked bandages hastily wrapped around her wounds. Every breath she drew was shallow, ragged, each step she took agonizing as she stumbled across the broken landscape, her body trembling with the effort of keeping herself upright. Her vision blurred with pain, the world a hazy mix of ruins and shadows, but she pressed on, her heart pounding wildly in her chest.

She had to find someone.

Anyone.

'J-Jaune...' The name echoed in her fractured mind, a desperate plea for salvation. 'I need to find Jaune...'

Her legs buckled beneath her, but she caught herself, her one remaining arm pushing against the uneven ground as she forced herself onward. The weight of her bloodied body threatened to pull her down, to let the darkness swallow her, but she refused to give in. Not yet.

"C-Cinder?"

The voice was faint, barely cutting through the fog of pain, but she heard it. Her head lifted weakly, her remaining eye searching, and then she saw him. Jaune stood frozen in shock, his face drained of color, his eyes wide as they took in her ravaged form. The horror in his gaze was palpable, a mirror of her own fear, but she didn’t care. She stumbled forward, her good arm outstretched toward him.

"J-Jaune... help me..." she groaned, her voice barely more than a whisper, laced with desperation and agony. Her legs trembled, giving out beneath her again, but she struggled to stay upright, her eyes locked onto him, pleading silently.

"Cinder!"

Jaune snapped out of his daze at the sound of Mercury’s voice. Cinder’s heart lurched as she saw Mercury and Emerald rushing toward them, their expressions grim and tense. Mercury skidded to a stop behind Jaune, his hand gripping Jaune's shoulder, pulling him back roughly.

"We gotta go! Now!" Mercury shouted, his voice sharp, panicked.

Jaune shook his head, eyes darting between Mercury and Cinder. "R-Right! Cinder's hurt, I need to-!"

"Fuck Cinder!" Mercury snapped, his voice cutting through the air like a blade. "We don’t have time for this! We gotta get outta here before it’s too late!"

Cinder’s blood ran cold at Mercury’s words, her heart hammering in her chest as fear shot through her. 'No... no, he wouldn't just leave me... would he?'

Her vision swam, the pain becoming too much to bear, but her fear kept her clinging to consciousness. She wanted to scream, to shout at Mercury, to beg Jaune not to leave her, but her throat tightened as the words died in her mouth. Her body gave out, her knees hitting the ground with a sickening thud. The world tilted, and she fell forward, her vision fading as she crumpled to the ground in a heap of torn flesh and broken pride.

"Jaune..." Her voice was a weak, strangled whisper, barely audible as she hit the cold earth.

"B-But we can’t just leave her here!" Jaune cried out, his voice thick with desperation. His hands trembled at his sides, clenched into fists. "I-I can heal her! I have to-!"

"Jaune! Listen to me!" Mercury’s voice cut through Jaune’s panic like a knife, sharp and insistent. He grabbed Jaune by the shoulders, forcing him to meet his eyes. "We. Need. To. Go! Now!"

Jaune’s breath caught in his throat, his gaze flickering between Mercury and Cinder. Cinder lay broken on the ground, barely conscious, her body a mangled ruin of blood and torn flesh. Her remaining eye—half-lidded and glassy—still sought him out, pleading silently, begging for his help. The sight of her, the woman who once stood tall and unstoppable, reduced to this fragile, broken thing—it shattered something inside him.

Emerald, standing behind Mercury, bit her lip, fear swirling in her wide eyes. Her hands were shaking, but there was something steely in her voice when she finally spoke.

"You don’t have to be scared of her anymore, Jaune..." she said, her voice trembling with the weight of what she was about to say. "She’s going to die! You’ll be free!"

Jaune flinched as if her words had struck him. Free? Was that what this was? The answer to his fears, his nightmares? A future without her shadow looming over him?

Cinder wanted to scream. She wanted to shout at them, to curse their names for daring to poison Jaune’s mind. The words swelled in her throat, but all that came out was a wet, rasping breath, barely a sound. The pain was too much.

'I am all he has... He’s all I have...'

Her thoughts were fragmented, slipping away like grains of sand between her fingers. She tried to force her body to move, but everything felt so heavy, so far away. Her heart pounded in her ears, her breaths coming in shallow, ragged gasps. She could feel her strength waning, her vision darkening at the edges.

Jaune was torn, caught between the raw instinct to help and the primal fear of staying too long, of getting caught in the chaos that surrounded them. His eyes flickered to Cinder’s ruined body, her one remaining hand feebly grasping at the air, reaching for him. He could see it in her eye—the desperation, the silent plea for him to save her, to not abandon her.

But time was running out.

Mercury’s patience snapped. He glanced at Emerald, giving her a quick, urgent nod. Without hesitation, Emerald surged forward and grabbed Jaune’s hand, pulling him away.

"Jaune, we have to go!" she cried, her voice tight with fear, her grip like iron around his wrist. "There’s no time!"

"No! Wait!" Jaune’s voice broke as he stumbled, caught between the pull of Emerald and the weight of the choice that was crushing him.

His heart screamed for him to stay, to fight for her, to save her, but his body was being dragged away, inch by inch.

Cinder’s breath hitched, and her mangled body trembled as she raised what was left of her arm. The stump where her hand once was, now just a mass of torn muscle and exposed bone, reached out for Jaune in one last desperate plea.

"Don’t..." Her voice was barely audible, a cracked, broken whisper. "Don’t leave me..."

The words came out strangled, a guttural moan, full of anguish and desperation.

"You... promised... me..." Cinder's voice was weak, barely a whisper, each word dragged from her throat with agonizing effort. Pain radiated through every inch of her broken body, but it was nothing compared to the ache in her chest—the deep, hollow emptiness of betrayal. Her vision blurred, the world around her fading, but she forced herself to speak, to make him hear her.

"You promised... ME!" she cried out louder, her voice cracking with a mix of anguish and desperation. There was no strength left in her to scream, but the emotion in her words was as sharp as a blade. The betrayal stung like a fresh wound, raw and bleeding, as if her very soul had been torn apart.

Her arm, what remained of it, trembled as she tried to reach for him again, but her body was too weak, too broken. She could only watch, helpless, as Jaune, her Jaune, was dragged away by those two traitors, Mercury and Emerald, their figures becoming distant shadows in the growing darkness.

'He promised me...'

Her heart shattered, each beat slower, more painful than the last. The love of her life—the one she had clung to, the one who had been her light in the endless storm—was slipping away, his form fading from view as her world dimmed.

Tears welled in her remaining eye, but even they felt distant, like they belonged to someone else. The cold of the night pressed in around her, seeping into her bones as the last fragments of strength left her body.

Finally, the darkness overtook her. The last image burned into her mind was the sight of Jaune, his back turned to her, being dragged away by the very people who had poisoned his mind against her. And with that, the world went black, her heart heavy with the weight of broken promises and love lost to the night.

[gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan]

The Light of Truth

Author's note: More of the Primaris Boys in Husbandry. Thank you to @sleepyfan-blog for letting me borrow Pallius, Cedric & Olivar. Thank you to @c-u-c-koo-4-40k for letting me borrow Khopesh. Thank you to @kit-williams for letting me borrow Ghosk.

Warning: Character death. Characters fighting. Bloodshed. Uh. Let me know if I need to add anything.

Summary: Cedric gets a message. A brother is nearly rescued, another is nearly lost. Petras reveals his true colors to more than just Primaris Marines.

Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams

Tagged: @sleepyfan-blog, @ms--lobotomy , @thevoidscreams, @i-am-a-dragon34, @gra93fruit-blog

Tagged: @felinisnoctis

Cedric's wrist mounted vox gets a communication ping.

[I am uncertain how much time I have left before I return to the embrace of the Omnissiah.] Castiel sends in his message through agonizing, and coughs blood from his lungs raggedly. There are some spots of blood, mucus and the mechanical fluids used to keep him alive that spatter on his vox. Ugh, despite how much the Mechanicum has enhanced him, he’s still so wretchedly fleshed.

After a few wet ragged coughs Castiel painfully continues, his voice more staticy [but I don't want to die without letting someone know the truth. Embedded in this message is a holo recording of a meeting between Chaplain Mephestil Petras of the Black Templars and a Chaos Marine… as well as his reactions to my queries on the subject. He murdered me. I hope this gets to you. The God Emperor Protects and provides for us all.]

Castiel had also sent the holo recording of Petras going too far in his punishment. When Petras finds and attacks him on Ancient Terra he's able to record some of it, as well as his agonizing cries as he tries to escape, but dies to Petras again. Castiel had managed to have his eyes- which were cybernetic to record Petras’s words and actions- and the recording cuts off after he finishes dying.

He had the message on a delayed sending, hoping that Petras wouldn't notice the vox message. Tied to send when twelve minutes after he flatlined, and he sent coordinates of where he lay dead, or so he hoped. Castiel had wanted to send it to one of his fellow Black Templars primaris Marines.

His last thoughts are Prayers to the Omnissiah that his message will get through to one of them. That Castiel’s death won’t be a waste, that at least someone will have this proof. 

Castiel knew in his hearts that it likely wouldn’t do anything much. Petras has killed Primaris Marines before with only a slap on the wrist. But at least it is something and the First borns will be interested in consorting with Chaos. Even though his life is worthless to them.

~

Cedric reads the written message, his mouth going dry, as a slow-burning fury ignites his hearts once again. He mutes the video, before playing it, as he is currently sitting down in the clinic’s staff cafeteria, and he has little doubt that the sounds of pain and misery will immediately attract the attention of everyone who could hear it.

Two. That’s two, in less than twenty-four hours. While Mattias wasn’t dead, he had been placed in a medically induced coma, to reduce the amount of movement that the young Astartes was capable of doing, as the injury to his spinal column could be operated on and treated, but was very delicate and any movements could potentially permanently render his legs unusable without spinal prosthetics or other augments that would be incredibly difficult to acquire on Ancient and Holy Terra. 

He knows that Anrir and the other Night Lords are incredibly dangerous. Its just for some reason they have decided to drag him protectively under their bat wings, rather than tear him to shreds with their talons. For now at least.

Claude and Khopesh are away from where Ghosk and the others are setting the stage for the ‘fight’ between ‘raven guard’ Anrir (or whatever name he’ll be using) and the Claw will ‘attack’ him.

Claude and Khopesh watch through binoculars as the staged fight happens- and Captain Kasz Kalleran takes the bait and falls for the trap, hook, line and sinker. His Captain did enjoy it when he could be painted as the hero of the stories he tells, regardless of the truth of the matter.

The Claw gets ‘chased off’ by the flock of Ravens who surround the wounded ‘bird’ and help patch him up. Claude closes his eyes and takes in a deep breath. Anrir is far older than he is, and knows what he’s doing. Had chosen to do this- had planned for contingencies and decided on this course of action.

Claude is distracted by a vox text message he gets from Cedric and reads it with a concerned frown on his face.  [You wanted to talk? I’m on lunch break right now. Get Ramiel. This is urgent.]

He sent a message to Claude via vox. [You wanted to talk? I’m on lunch break right now. Get Ramiel. This is urgent.]

[On my way.] Claude responds. [Where do you want to meet?]

Claude frowns, concern churning in his gut as he sends a message to Ramiel about Cedric’s request. Ramiel responds immediately to his message and sends one to Cedric as well.

“I have to go- Cedric needs my help with something,” Claude informs Khopesh.

“Have fun with that,” Khopesh says, “I’ll check on the others, see how they are doing after the ‘fight’ with the Raven Guards.”

Claude nods, “sounds good.”

[The park nearest to The Clinic. We should be able to talk freely there.] Cedric texted both Ramiel and Claude. 

While he waited for them to respond, he walked over to where Olivar was currently sitting, scowling into the bowl of food in front of him. “You know it’s not going to leap out at you and try to murder you. What’s on your mind?”

“You told me that He is on Ancient Terra, too, right? Why the fuck were we sent here, back into his reach? Unless He is from before He started…” Olivar swallowed hard, a low, wordless growl leaving him. “Should we be keeping what The Bastard has done to us a secret? Your mentor did not tolerate his grox-shite, at least when it came to you, no matter what The Shithead said you did, or didn’t do. Surely there’s got to be at least one Firstborn marine you can talk to about all of this shit.”

“... There are a couple I’ve told some of what’s happened to. In M42. They kind of bullied me into telling them, but given what they’re like, I really should have realized that they were going to do so, sooner or later. Do you remember what I told you about Bruders Roland and Arnault?” Cedric asked, rocking back on his heels a little. 

“... Yeah… One’s a battle brother,” Olivar says, “The other’s an Emperor’s Champion… something about Bonding? Bonded?”

“... Trust me, the Bonding and Bonded conversation is for when you are better healed and we aren’t doing emergency scrambling. But I think… If you, Ramiel  and Pallius agree… I think I might ask both of them to help me lodge a formal complaint against Petras, to get some kind of official record as to the grox-shite and cruelty he is capable of being known publicly.”

“That sounds vaguely ominous Ced,” Olivar says, his scowl shifting a little. He scoffs a little, “didn’t we try that before and were told ‘stop being whiny little bitch and take the ‘character building’ lumps and suck it up?’ Why would that change since we’re here?”

“Bonds are wonderful things, I promise! From what I’ve seen, they are good. Also, that was by other firstborn brothers in M42. I told them that Petras killed a dozen primaris marines in M42 and that both of them immediately swore to kill him. I entirely believe that they meant that, too.”

“I mean… you are lovable Ced,” Olivar says slightly teasingly, “And Apothecaries are hard to come by. Of course they want to protect you.”

Cedric huffed a little and shook his head “I don’t think it’s just because I’m an Apothecary. They were furious at the thought of younger brothers being killed for existing. Not that I’m advocating for Chaplain Petras to die, just to… To be brought before a tribunal and made to answer for his crimes.” 

By the god-emperor, does the wounded fury and sorrow howling in his hearts want Petras dead. Not just dead, but killed slowly, painfully. To have the fucker be made to beg and plead for mercy, for an ounce of compassion and be shown exactly as much as he gave Cedric’s Brothers. 

None. 

But that path led towards falling to Khorne, or perhaps Slaanesh, depending on the way he went about it. So formal sanctioning it was. For his own safety, and the safety of others.

“I wonder how Justice and punishment are delivered on Ancient Terra? I think that’s something we should find out, before we do anything or say anything.” Olivar scratches his cheek, “hm… let me think on it. Unless the Bastard does something… Bad here.”

“He’s killed a Primaris Tech marine. I just received Castiel’s dying vox-messages and video-footage of his murder.” Cedric answered, shaking his head a little. “Mattias - another Primaris Marine, is currently under anesthesia and in surgery because of the complications from Petras beating the fuck out of him yesterday.”

“Fucking bastard, you have convinced me, I’ll talk to who ever it is about his discipline and punishment methods.” Olivar hisses, “I remember Cassie- quiet, dutiful and always helped with weapons and armor maintenance. He was so happy to be chosen as a Tech Marine. He loved to talk about a certain kind of cog wheel.”

Cedric nodded, saying “I’m going to check in with Pallius first, then Ramiel. To see how they both feel about going forwards with what we know of petras’ crimes. I will be taking point on this. As the Apothecary of the group… And the one who survived longest in M42 before being sent to Ancient Terra, this is my duty and my burden.” With that he nodded, standing up and heading over to where Pallius was sitting and eating lunch.

~

“Pallius, I’ve run this by Olivar, and I have his vote. I won’t reveal it to you as I don’t want to influence your decision either way. But I… I am asking if you want me to come forward to certain firstborn marines - Brothers Roland and Arnault of the Black Templars, and Captain Ash’val for certain about what Chaplain Petras has done to us. He’s killed at least one Primaris Marine on Ancient Terra. He’s badly wounded Mattias, who is currently in surgery.” Cedric explained, his voice low and quick he gave the other a brief summary of what Castiel had sent to him.

“... If our words and scars can help keep others safe,” Pallius says quietly, “then… then I shall speak of the shameful things.”

“It’s not your shame, what he had done to you, Pallius. It is his. Please, you must remember this.” Cedric urged his brother, his hearts caught in the back of his throat. 

Pallius ducks his head a little at the others words as his eyes become wet and he rubs the grit from his eyes. “I… I’ll try to.”

“Thank you, Pallius. You have Dorn’s own courage.” Cedric murmured, gently pressing his forehead to Pallius’, as an affectionate gesture.

“Keep safe Ced,” Pallius says, closing his eyes and leaning into  Cedric a little, returning the gesture as much as he can. “... You have Dorn’s own courage as well Brother.”

Cedric nodded, walking out of the cafeteria as he read up on what had been sent to his wrist-mounted vox, mind whirling. 

[I got the message from Claude. I’ll be at the park in seven minutes. Do I need to get Catius or Oleandros? Or have them run a Distraction?] Ramiel sends Cedric a text vox message, adding another statement. [Eta five minutes, told Chaplain Bo’shan I was taking my lunch break. He seemed happy about that.]

[I will be there in five minutes.] Claude says a thought occurs to him and he asks [Do you want me to get Jophi?]

[... I  don’t want to involve all of the others just as of yet. Any more of this, and I request that we please speak in person. Neither of you are in trouble.] Cedric vox-texted back, making sure to send the last sentence, so as to not worry them too much. He hoped.

[Wilco.] Ramiel replies. He is worried- just what is going on? He wonders what Cedric has found out or wants to discuss. 

He had to go by Reclusiarch Feldarim’s office to get to where he was going- the other watched him go with a casual glance. But as he didn’t seem too upset, the other let him pass without harassing him. Which gives him a sense of relief, as Chaplain Bo’shan had lightly pressed him for details, and he’d said that he was meeting up with Cedric and Claude for lunch.

He’s able to excuse himself and grabs something to eat. And then ensures to grab enough for Claude and Cedric. Both of them are terrible at remembering to eat. He also grabs some of the homemade ice cream as a sweet treat, just in case the conversation needs such a thing.

Claude replies [Understood- I also have some… interesting information on Justice and Punishment that The Night Lords talked about for Ancient Terra and the Alliance.]

[Good, I have questions about that, which will help in deciding in which way things will go. Whether we go the official route, or take care of trash on our own.] Cedric texted back.

~

He must have one hell of a scowl on his face, because the baseline humans who he passes by all scramble to get the hell out of his way. While normally this would make him feel guilty, especially as the baselines who live on the base are either bonded to one of the marines who lives on base… Or they have nowhere else to live and they work jobs on base in order to pay in kind for housing and food. 

Zariel had heard the whispers and more loud complaints and worried about Fierce Angry Scowling Astarte in black and white scrubs. So he had sent a message to Ash’val, Feldarim, and after a moment’s hesitation, to Hura. Just in case.

“Cedric,” Zariel calls out carefully, “... You know I am here for you, if you need or want to talk about something that’s bothering you. If you want to talk.”

“... I acknowledge this. However, I need to speak with a couple of others. We will decide a few things and then figure out who to reach out to. You are, I will say, on the short list for the… Issue that needs handling.” Cedric responded, falling back on formal wording in order to hopefully get the teal Ultramarine to back off a little. He didn’t have the time to try and shake off a Teal tail. 

“Very well,” Zariel says with a nod, watching the younger Astarte move. “I am honored to have such trust.”

He decides that it would be best not to press him too much. After all- he didn’t want to rile the other and send him into hiding again. The fact that young Claude had managed to teach a Black Templar how to be stealthy and good at it had been… more than a little distressing… As impressed as he’d been after his hearts had stopped feeling like they were going to burst from stress.

Cedric nods brusquely before marching the rest of the way out of the base, still scowling and not in the least bit attempting to hide his expression in the least. 

Zariel also rolls a thought or two in his head. Whatever it was that Cedric had told Roland and Arnault had made the two older Black Templars exceedingly angry.  So he was going to wait before sending a message to the older ones about this… Newest thing.

~

Cedric spotted Ramiel and Claude in one of their favorite spots in the nearby park. The brief stretch of his legs, and outside did help him calm down slightly, though his nerves - and his fury - were still jangling just beneath the surface of his skin. He waved over at the two of them, attempting to smile “Hey… Claude, Ramiel.”

Claude had helped Ramiel set up the basket of food, a blend of baseline human and Astarte food and drinks. They had set it up on one of the wooden benches that was rated for Astartes to sit on safely with the table neatly set out, with a picnic cover neatly tucked around to keep things a bit cleaner.

“Hey Cedric,” Ramiel says, “I thought since it was about lunch time, and you had a Conversation to speak with us, a picnic would help the Look of things. Regardless of what is spoken about.”

“Nice to see you Ced,” Claude says with a grin.

Claude heads to the area specified by Cedric and helps Ramiel set up the picnic that the other had decided to grab. It was a good cover- and they’d get to eat something while they talk about the Urgent matter.

At least on the outset it would look like the three of them were enjoying lunch and a picnic, which would have curious eyes not think anything Suspicious is going on. Not that he thinks that Cedric is doing anything particularly troubling. But it helps throw off any potential watchers, just in case.

 Claude wonders if the Claw is encouraging his paranoia and suspicious tendencies before shaking his head a little and greeting Cedric. He sees the thunderous scowl on the other’s face and suspects that whatever he’s going to say is not going to be great.

He’s proven right as he listens, upset at what Cedric has learned. He goes over the details of what he remembers of the conversation with Khopesh about Justice and Punishments. Ramiel and Cedric agree to speak with Khopesh in public and he sends another message and Khopesh arrives swiftly.

“... A picnic does sound good.” Cedric relented, plopping down next to his Brother, leaning into his familiar warmth. He looked at the spread of food and drinks, deliberately focusing on what he could smell and see before him, in a desperate attempt to calm down, at least a little. 

Ramiel hums one of the prayer hymns that he knows helps Cedric calm down, Claude slowly reaching out and holding one of the Apothecary Apprentic’s hands and lightly squeezing it. Claude joins in on the song, humming the chorus and harmonizing with them, the words whispered in High Gothic.

He hummed along to the hymn, allowing the calming focus to come over him. Anger had it’s place on the battlefield, but too much of it was dangerous. Not only to oneself, but to everyone around the one lost to fury. He squeezed Claude’s hand back gently, managing a rueful smile “I have bad news, worse news, questions, and a proposal, contingent upon the answer to those questions. What do you want to hear first?”

“What’s the worst news?” Claude and Ramiel ask at the same time, bracing themselves.

Claude looks around them glancing at his brothers as he takes some of the bread and spreads jame and nut butter on bread- as well as sprinkling some Astarte nutri-paste and cutting it into thirds for the three of them to eat. 

Claude cast his senses, Warp-related and not to ensure that they weren’t being listened to. Glad that no one was, either through technology or warpy senses he lets go of his crackling humming power and focuses on Cedric’s words. He takes a bite of food to keep the spots of darkness out of his vision.

“Tech-Marine Castiel of the Black Templars was killed earlier today, at the hands of Chaplain Captain Petras. When Tech Marine Castiel became aware that he was going to die, as there was no one to intercede on his behalf, he sent me all of the information he had on the chaplain in question, sending it on a delay to hopefully not arouse suspicion from his murderer.” Cedric revealed, doing his best to keep his voice a low, emotionless monotone. He failed spectacularly, as his voice cracked. He paused, taking a sip from one of the glasses of lemonade before continuing “Brother Mattias of the Black Templars is currently in surgery due to the complications from the beating he received, allegedly from Chaplain Petras, according to the Hydra who brought him into the clinic late last night.”  

“God Emperor curse him,” Ramiel swears softly, before flinching as he realizes the words that had come out of his mouth. “He’s… Perhaps not escalating, but he’s continuing to do what he did back in M42.”

“... He knows he died for Challenging the High Marshal,” Claude says with a frown, his eyes flashing teal as he thinks “... For killing and purging Primaris… and he’s…doing it here when Astartes number far fewer. He’s … not likely to change his ways.”

“Ramiel, I have asked Pallius and Olivar, but I will with-hold their votes until you tell me what you want to do. Should we come forward to certain firstborn marines, and tell them about what Petras has done, both in M42, and on Ancient Terra, or would you rather we handle this ourselves?” Cedric asked, his voice shaking a little, but stubborn ferocity beat in his chest. He would deal with this fucker, one way or the other.

Ramiel reaches over- carefully telegraphing his movements as he gives his brother a side hug. Claude is on Cedric’s other side and does the same thing. The three of them gently hugged each other for a moment. Ramiel gathers his thoughts, which is hard because they keep scattering in a thousand-thousand different directions as he thinks over the other’s words. 

“I think,” Ramiel says, his voice cracking a little, he coughs and then takes a sip of the lemonade laced with hydration rations, “I think, we should go to the First borns, see what they do… if it’s … unsatisfactory …. We can… handle him after the fact.”

Cedric side-hugs Ramiel back, trembling a little with the force of the emotions running rampant within him. He focuses on Claude “You mentioned that the Night Lords spoke of how Astartes dealt Justice in this time period? Please explain to the best of your abilities. Your answers will help me decide whether or not I will come forward with the information to whoever I’m supposed to in an official capacity… Or if I just ask Arnault and Roland if he would please help me murder a bastard. They are both already aware of Petras’ crimes in M42 and swore to kill him.” Their vehement and immediate declarations of Murder had been… Cedric swallowed a little. They had been more gratifying than the young Apothecary had wanted to admit.

“So Khopesh and the Claw of Night Lords knows about why certain… First Born Brothers in M42 don’t like us… And they find that reasoning stupid, foolish and wasteful. Claude nods, “That- actually is one method of Justice that the rest of the chapter’s can’t mess with. Justice for crimes done, unless it’s inter-chapter stuff, or there is a request to intercede on the behalf of the victims, is done in-chapter. Unless their crimes are bad enough that an Example needs to be made.”

Claude gathers his thoughts and pulls out the data slate and reads the notes he’d taken, the conversation that he had with Khopesh. He hands the data slate over so they can read about Hunting- and how the worst of the Astarte criminals, like serial killers, are handed over to the Night Lords, which is one of the worst punishments that can happen to a person. How the Hunt is declared- what happens during it, and after.

“There is a precedent,” Claude says, licking his lips a little, “where if an Astarte is killing other Astarte- that their Chapter, at first are the ones to handle them, but if for whatever reason they can’t or won’t… They tend to be handed over to the Night Lords. I… uh… asked some Questions- and Khopesh seemed… excited about the idea of a Hunt. I think… no, I know he reported the conversation we had about Justice and Punishment to the Claw Leader- Anrir, who’s an Apothecary- who’s older than Hura.”

“... Petras wasn’t the only one killing Primaris Marines in M42. Nor was he the only Firstborn Black Templar to be doing so.” Cedric murmured, his voice low and quiet. “As much as I want… As much as I want to raise bolter and blade against the fucker myself, alongside whoever else wants to kill him. I don’t… I don’t think that simply killing Petras will ensure long-term protection of our fellow Primaris Marines. I will ask Arnault and Roland their opinions on this… But…”

“There are other punishments,” Claude says, “They talked about.. Flaying… among other things. Some. Very graphic descriptions that I won’t go into detail about right now, as well as having the people who were hurt by the person, to either participate in the person’s punishment actively, or have a hand in deciding how they are punished. There is, unfortunately, a need to gather evidence and proof of crimes more than verbal witness evidence.”

“Would the recorded audio-visual recordings of a now-murdered marine be enough evidence?” Cedric asked bluntly. 

“... Will you allow me to ask Khopesh that?” Claude says, “I think so- but I’d need his opinion, he’s been here longer, and knows more about Justice and the legal framework that the Astartes have developed here.”

Cedric nodded “Go for it. You’re the one with contact with him.”

Claude sends Khopesh a vox text [Please don't run to Anrir or the others about this quite yet. But hypothetically, if Ced- er someone had Audio/visual proof about Cas- er I mean, someone else, HYPOTHETICALLY being murdered by Pet- er a third someone else, that is currently,  hypothetically on Ancient Terra right now, and has a history of murdering primaris marines, what would happen? And this person that hypothetically nearly murdered Mat- I mean someone else as well.]

Khopesh hears a pinging noise and looks down at his vox, he can’t stop the grin that grows on his face and thinks to himself, ‘Bingo!’

“You seem pleased, something good?” Ghosk notes, lightly pressing the younger member of the Claw for more information if the other wanted to share.

“... Not yet- but soon. Hopefully.” Khopesh says. He’s not going to tell Anrir or the other members of the Claw yet. Per Claude’s request, for now. But finally. He’s glad that Claude is finally trusting them, or at least him more. 

“Alright,” Ghosk replies with a nod. “Keep in mind we can only back you up if we know what’s going on.”

“Yes Ghosk,” Khopesh says with a nod. He does send a message back to Claude. [A Primaris Killer- or an Astarte killer, like the one you texted me about would be setting himself up for execution. Especially if he has a heinous list of crimes and it’s clear that he’s not stopping.]

Claude responds swiftly to the message [Thank you for the information.]

Khopesh sends another message to Claude that [you all can argue for the Primaris killer being an ongoing and unremorseful threat. So they can Hopefully get the maximum punishment of execution by Night Lords. Or depending on the Chapter preferred executioners.]

[Thank you for that- so far as we know, he’s only gone after Black Templars.] Claude responds. [Knowing him… he might escalate to other Primaris if he comes across them. He’s got a nasty temper.]

[But even without that. The chapter the murderer is a part of would be Heavily pressured to either remove their own bad actor, or turn him over so he can be removed.]  Khopesh sends the message to Claude, and he is getting excited.

Khopesh is excited that Claude trusts them more, And that he'll soon be able to talk to Anrir and the others about getting a proper Hunt going. Ghosk waved at the younger Night Lord as he watched the younger one leave, wondering what was going on.

But patience...Patience! Like Anrir always says. He feels like he's vibrating- and is glad that he moved out of where the rest of the Claw are- because they would see the expression on his face and demand to see his communicator to know what’s going on.

A thought suddenly strikes Khopesh and the excitement dims a little and he sends another message- a very Anrir thought as he remembers watching the older Night Lord work and talk to others and sends another message, [I won't tell Anrir without your permission....But I also don't want you and your brothers to be in active danger. I have enough on my rotted conscience, so if things get bad. Please don't make me live with staying quiet. For however terrifying he might be. Anrir wants to help you, Claude. We all do. But we can't Do that unless you Tell us what we need to know. Information Is Warfare isn't it?]

Khopesh hopes he isn’t pushing Claude too much, but this is need to know information, and the fact that the youngest member of his Claw was talking about things in more specific detail was Important. Especially with that fucking bastard of a Raven Captain- that they are helping him handle as well.

[Could you send me a copy of the evidence that you and your brother-cousins have?] Khopesh sends, [The evidence that can be submitted to the Alliance, it will help clinch the Hunt to being declared.]

Khopesh has an excited blood thirsty expression on his face- and he is moving around pacing back and forth. He’s so tempted to try and find out where Claude is to rush over and talk, and see if he can get more answers out of him and the other Primaris Marines.

His excitement cools down and he shakes his head as he rereads one of the messages, [wait- no, if the message gets intercepted, they’d need a backup of it to show the Alliance.]

[Cedric and Ramiel say they want to talk with you in person.] Claude sends, [we are at the park nearby the Loyalist base on Cherry lane and main street. Could you come by and speak with us? Things… might be escalating.]

[I’ll be there as soon as I can] Khopesh responds and tries not to run to where Claude and the others are. He’s. really excited. The Primaris Marines are trusting them with this! And they- hopefully will help get the Primaris Marines to have Justice prevail and have a Hunt. It has been so long since they have been able to Hunt.

Khopesh tries to calm down and sees the way that Claude, Cedric, and Ramiel are sitting around a table, there is a quaint looking picnic- clever, make a serious meeting look like something more innocent, clever, clever boys. After the explanation they give, the video is shown and he watches it in full.

"You have footage of one of your battle brothers murders? Fantastic!” Khopesh says.

Cedric stills for a moment. The sheer visceral excitement radiating off of the Night Lord is off-putting to say the least. He briefly glances at Claude. What the fuck? He thinks particularly loudly at his witch-adjacent Brother-cousin. “... I find the joy you show in the death of another marine to be… Unsettling.”

Ramiel’s jaw clenches and blue eyes spark with rage and his hands clenched into fists and Claude jumps in before either of his cousins could smack the crap out of Khopesh, “ the translation "I'm excited we'll soon get to avenge your fallen and deliver Justice!" Not I’m happy your brother is dead.”

Claude very much understands what the former sounds like, and it had been shocking to hear such things, but he had learned how to understand Night Lords and the way they speak. He especially knows Khopesh better, having interacted with him a lot more than his brother-cousins, to keep them from getting too mad at the First Born Night Lord.

Khopesh calms down a little, realizing how callous that sounded, especially since this person is a threat- likely to them personally, as well as to others and apologies, “Sorry- that came out wrong. It really sucks that your brother is dead. I’m excited to be able to help you with this mess. That video- it’s Key Evidence in getting your tormentor put down, or whatever punishment you think is best.”

Cedric pauses for a moment before sending a copy of Castiel's dying video to the Night Lord. “Here is what he sent me. He timed it so hopefully his murderer wouldn't realize he was being recorded. Given the fact that Petras beat another Primaris marine to the point Mattias is currently in surgery now… The Chaplain must be nearby.”

Khopesh is a mixture of emotions, and his trembling a little as he tucks his hands behind his back as his hands clenched into fists. He’s a mixture of Excitement and Rage. How dare that bastard, Petras, go after the Primaris. 

Claude asks him, “What do you think of it?”

"I'm thinking I'd start with flaying Just the fingers! Then I'd yank the phalanges out one by one, on the right hand.” Khopesh starts, “For the left I'd Act like I was going to do the same, then snap the arm and force him to Bite Off his own fingers so the hands would Match-"

Part of Cedric was mildly Disgusted by Khopesh starting to explain what he would do to The bastard. The rest of him wanted to let the deranged Night Lord continue.

"About this Video as Evidence! Khopesh! How is the quality of the evidence!?" Ramiel interrupts.

"Oh right! Sorry...like I said it's fantastic as evidence. It clearly shows the perpetrator, goes decently in depth about his crimes, includes the bastards own fucking vileness on display and though it may sound tactless. Your deceased brother's testimony is something the Alliance will not be able to ignore. It may seem... disingenuous, but the pain and outrage you feel should be Used. It will show the tribunal that these crimes Must be Answered for, Your brother's lives not spent in Vain!" Khopesh says his eyes blazing with emotion and passion. "You never should have had to seek out this justice. Your elder brothers should have taken you beneath their wings, Like Anrir did for us!"

Cedric shifted a little, feeling the need to defend the firstborn Templar brothers who actually gave a damn about him and his Brothers. “A couple of our older Brothers have taken us in. Arnault and Roland have done their best to care for and protect us. As soon as they became peripherally aware of a threat to us that we hadn't told them about they would try and press for explanations. When… I told them earlier this week about Petras when Mattias was first brought in for treatment. They intended to kill the Chaplain, and said as much.” 

Khopesh paces around the table, prowling as he continues his rant, this explains why Claude and the others could be so stars- damned jumpy. Why Claude was so slow to trust- slow to allow himself Anrir and the other’s protections. 

Afraid of what being put under the protection of an older brother means accepting they have some power over you- and seeing and hearing that his cousins were murdered by shit head- and Claude and others getting beaten… yeah no. He’d be reluctant to give up any freedoms, even if it would help in some ways.

"But that's not the path this...Petras bastard chose. He Chose and by the looks of it continues to Choose to harm his own Battle Brothers, and worst! Those He should be responsible for." Khopesh says. "He is the worst type of Predatory, Vile, Rotten Bastard! And he Deserves to answer for his crimes. Your brothers, your fallen, deserve to have him Answer for his crimes."

"Let Us help you present this evidence Claude. Let the Claw help you and your brothers..." Khopesh doesn't use Your Claw as he feels it might push too hard and cause Claude to retreat. 

Instead Khopesh uses The Claw, still implying that Claude is a part of it, but leaving it up to interpretation. Avoiding Our Claw or My Claw as those could distinctly put Claude outside it, which is not true, and he doesn’t want to have Claude feel alienated, fuck the poor kid has had that done to him back in M42, him and his brothers.

Cedric, Ramiel, and Claude get an urgent text vox message from Jophiel it reads  [I’ve got a wounded Black Templar Primaris Marine. Near the stone outcropping two hours in the forest west of Gannet point. I’m stalling Petras- the fucker is Insane. Please help. Or send help. He’s threatening to kill me and Sariel. He knows about the Alliance rules, he just doesn’t fucking care.]

Cedric stood up, and swore under his breath, looking at Khopesh. “While you’re not the firstborn Brother who I’d choose to ask for help, you’re already here and I don’t know how long we have before the situation gets worse. We just received a call for help from Jophiel, a Primaris marine. He’s trying to keep another Primaris Marine alive and is facing Petras without help. We need Petras restrained now. If you mean your words, come and help us.” With that, Cedric took off at his top speed towards where Jophiel had pinged his location, texting back [I am coming! Delay him as long as you can!]

[I will do my best.] Jophiel responds.

He then messaged Arnault and Roland at the same time [Petras is attacking someone at this location. If you are able and willing, please help me keep him from murdering more Primaris marines.]

He gets an immediate response from both Arnault and Roland. Roland answered first. [On my way.]

Arnault answered [Will be there soon. Stay safe and be smart.]

His hearts drop to his stomach when he sees Jophiel on the ground, wings broken, and Petras standing over him. A Crusade of Black Templars and a dead Primaris Black Templar.

"You bastard!" Claude hears Cedric hiss as he chases after his charging Black Templar Brother cousins.

The closer they get to Petras and his Crusade, Cedric suddenly drops to Jophie's side- realizing the other is alive. "Why did you drug him? Break his wings?"

"He went mad," Petras says, "And he killed the Primaris Black Templar."

"LIAR!" Claude hears Cedric bellow. "Jophie is many things a brother killer, he is not."

"His blade is bloodied, and killed the Black Templar," Petras counteracts, telling the truth.

Khopesh has approached Jophiel and is messing with the younger Space Marine's helmet and lets out a dark chuckle and says, "You fool- Jophiel was recording the conversation he had with you."

"... what?" Petras says, sounding caught off guard.

Khopesh gives him a cruel smile and flips the helmet and projects the truth of the matter- Jophiel confronting Petras- who reveals his true cruelty.

How Jophiel tried to escape Petras at first- and only fought him after he'd broken his wings and made it so that escape wasn't likely. How Petras was the one to kill the Primaris Marine- using Jophiel's own weapon.

The looks of shock and horror and disappointment and disgust on the faces of Petras's Crusade have them circling around Petras- rather than trying to defend him.

Petras scowls, realizing that the jig is up and he taunts, "So- you know I have killed two of your disgusting Abominations."

"We are not abominations," Ramiel says tremulously, shaking, terrified, but wanting to stand against the bastard that murdered him in M42. "You are- you m-murdered me and a dozen of our brothers in M42- and have killed at least two of us here!"

Cedric moves closer to Ramiel, standing so that he is half in front of his terrified Brother, his eyes narrowing dangerously as he glowers at Petras. 

"Ah, so you have only found two of my victims," Petras taunts. "The souls of my other victims will never know peace because the location of their bodies will die with me."

"Who says that we will kill you here and now?" Khopesh says slyly, "After all- death is what you will get, but oh- how you should suffer before you die!"

[hananoami]

Rafayel's Directional Orbit: Fire - Stage 130 Clear + VOD

And finally, the last 130 post clear write up on my list is with Rafayel. We cleared his Directional Orbit: Fire - Stage 130 on July 24th! This one was lowkey kinda sketchy towards the end because the game decided to suddenly freeze on me.. ( ˶°ㅁ°) !!

Rafayel's Stage 130 requires two teams. Team 01's Protofield Stellactrum is 5-Violet and 1-Ruby. Team 02's Protofield Stellactrum is 5-Pearl and 1-Amber.

Matching the Protofield Stellactrum will grant you additional bonuses to your team. By matching the colors completely you will have a ’perfect match’ which allows you to break 2 protofield shields in a single strike. This saves you time by quickly bringing those wanderers into a weakened state. You also get an Attribute Bonus (up to 30.0%) for every color you match - increase DMG boost 5.0% and DMG reduction 5.0%. Of course, you could opt to go off color and try to brute force it, but I didn't here.

The difference having a Duo R1 of any solar pair is wildly insane. Duo Rank 1 boosts Ardent Oath charge by 20%, allowing you to to equip a different beta protocore for something that is focused on either strength or expedited energy. I was totes excited to finally get another copy of [Deep Sea Promise] during the Pulse Hunter limited-time banner since for some un(sea)godly reason his [Deep Sea Riches] just loves to grace me with his presence instead -- I currently have that memory at R3.

For the first half of the fight I tried to keep all of the wanderers grouped up together. Thankfully, Abysswalker's Resonance Skill, Fantasia Shark, pulls in the enemies before it bites and burns them. I'm not gonna lie... my game play is kinda sloppy here too since I had to collect the Fish Tail beacon he dropped anytime I used his Eclipse Rend Support Skill. I also had to keep track of the marked wanderer in order to use my Abyssal Rapid Fire charged attack for more damage. It's totes easier to keep them grouped up in a corner that way Sharkie can reach all of them when pulled in.

One thing I do want to improve on are my perfect dodges. In this case for Rafayel's Abysswalker he would drops another fish tail beacon for an additional charge to speed up his Eclipse Rend support skill. While watching my clear vod again I noticed I had the opportunity for these perfect dodges, but didn't do them because I was afraid of getting hit. I should just go for it going forward, just to get more practice in.

My overall rotation with God of the Tides could have been better. I kept forgetting to press my active skill, Tides, for the small buff window before going into Rafayel's resonance skill, Surging Tides. The boss locked its HP at around 75% health on the final bar where you can't do any damage to it. So you would have to avoid the cyclones in order to not get frozen and lose out on some time. Also, this would be the perfect time to get a perfect dodge in, as seen in my clear video, hehe~

You can probably notice where my game decided to freeze during my fights in my clear vods... it was actually a real struggle that day and kinda stressed me out since this was all time sensitive content -- not that there was a rush to clear or anything. I just knew I was able to clear the fights, if only my game wouldn't hold me back with the lag. I ended up fixing by setting my graphics to the lowest setting.

ADDITIONAL INFORMATION

TEAM 01

Companion: Rafayel’s Abysswalker [ Burst | Single-target | Pull ] Weapon: Phantasma Sands (guns) [ DPS | Single-target | Sustained ] Attribute Bonus For each matched stellactrum, increases DMG Boost 5.0% (currently increased: 30.0%) and DMG Reduction 5.0% (currently increased 30.0%). ♡ Affinity Bonus: 106 (Rafayel’s Protective Skill) When you take a fatal blow, Rafayel teleports to you, blocks a hit, and counter attacks. Enemies will be knocked back. [ HP xxxx || DEF xx || ATK xxx ] Pair Bonus [AB] -- Starting Effect: increases team DMG by 8%, reduces DMG taken by 8%, and increases Crit DMG of Deepsea Persuit by 30%. -- Duo Rank 1: boost Ardent Oath charge by 20%. When fighting together with Abysswalker, increases DMG taken of enemies inflicted with Burn by 20%.

5☆ DEEP SEA RICHES (violet/solar) Lv 80/awakened rank 2 using +15 SSR protocores

5☆ DEEP SEA PROMISE (violet/solar) Lv 80/awakened using +15 SSR protocores

5☆ FLORAL PROMISE (violet/lunar) Lv 80 using xx SSR protocores

5☆ WHISPERS (violet/lunar) Lv 80 rank 1 using xx SSR protocores

5☆ YOUR FRAGRANCE (violet/lunar) Lv 80 rank 3 using xx SSR protocores

4☆ WHALEFALL LAMENT (ruby/lunar) Lv 60 rank 3 using xx SSR protocores

TEAM 02

Companion: Rafayel’s God of the Tides [ Sustained | Buff | AoE ] Weapon: Tidal Embrace (staff) [ Sustained | Buff | Aoe ] Attribute Bonus For each matched stellactrum, increases DMG Boost 5.0% (currently increased: 30.0%) and DMG Reduction 5.0% (currently increased 30.0%). ♡ Affinity Bonus: 106 (Rafayel’s Protective Skill) When you take a fatal blow, Rafayel teleports to you, blocks a hit, and counter attacks. Enemies will be knocked back. [ HP xxxx || DEF xx || ATK xxx ] Pair Bonus [TP] - Starting Effect: increases team DMG by 8%, reduces DMG taken by 8%, and increases Crit DMG by 10% when fighting alongside Sea Spirits. - Duo Rank 1: boosts Ardent Oath Charge by 20%. The starting level of Sea Spirits rises to Lv. 2, and Sea Spirits will last for 5 more seconds. - Duo Rank 2: increases Energy Charge cap by 1. During Heavenly Rain, recovery rate of energy charge is increased by 30%.

5☆ TEMPLE'S PROMISE (pearl/solar) Lv 80/awakened rank 2 using xx protocores

5☆ TEMPLE'S SUNSET (pearl/solar) Lv 80/awakened rank 2 using xx SSR protocores

5☆ PRIVATE TRIP (pearl/lunar) Lv 80 using xx SSR protocores

5☆ TIPSY INVITATION (pearl/lunar) Lv 80 rank using xx SSR protocores

5☆ FIREWORKS VOW (pearl/lunar) Lv 80 using xx SSR protocores

5☆ UNFORGETTABLE ADVENTURE (amber/lunar) Lv 80 rank 1 using xx SSR protocores

signal boosting: @hunters-association

[fashionsfromhistory]

Afternoon Dress

1874

United States

This dress was made from a paper pattern bought in Paris in 1874. Extant garments created from the early days of this type of garment are rarely identifiable. Sized paper patterns were introduced by Ebenezer Butterick (1826-1903) in 1863 and quickly spread to many different companies across the United States and Europe. Being able to create stylish garments at home by sewing machine (which was invented in 1790 but wasn't affordable until the 1850s) revolutionized fashionable dress for the masses. This particular dress has distinctive features of its period such as heavy trim and decorative pockets. The bustle silhouette, although primarily associated with the second half of the 19th century, originated in earlier fashions as a simple bump at the back of the dress, such as with late 17th-early 18th century mantuas and late 18th- early 19th century Empire dresses. The full-blown bustle silhouette had its first Victorian appearance in the late 1860s, which started as fullness in skirts moving to the back of the dress. This fullness was drawn up in ties for walking that created a fashionable puff. This trendsetting puff expanded and was then built up with supports from a variety of different things such as horsehair, metal hoops and down. Styles of this period were often taken from historical inspiration and covered in various types of trim and lace. Accessories were petite and allowed for the focus on the large elaborate gowns. Around 1874, the style altered and the skirts began to hug the thighs in the front while the bustle at the back was reduced to a natural flow from the waist to the train. This period was marked by darker colors, asymmetrical drapery, oversize accessories and elongated forms created by full-length coats. Near the beginning of the 1880s the trends altered once again to include the bustle, this time it would reach its maximum potential with some skirts having the appearance of a full shelf at the back. The dense textiles preferred were covered in trimming, beadwork, puffs and bows to visually elevate them further. The feminine silhouette continued like this through 1889 before the skirts began to reduce and make way for the S-curve silhouette.

The MET (Accession Number: 2009.300.777a–c)

[groundrunner100]

Transformers Television Shows Ranked

(Top show being the best, bottom being worst)

Transformers: Animated

Generation 1, but in a more unique setting, in a good way. Great character designs, interesting backstories, & with great voice acting to boot, the show is lightning in a bottle. Animated Blackarachnia is highlight of the show PERIOD

•Favorite episodes: Total Meltdown, Nanosec, Along Came A Spider, Nature Calls, Black Friday, A Bridge Too Close Parts I & II, TransWarped Parts I, II, & III, Predacons Rising, Endgame Part II.

Best character designs: Blackarachnia, Warpath, Oil Slick, Blackout, Omega Supreme, & Lugnut.

Final Rating: A+.

Transformers: Prime

A BIG, promising show that was unfortunately smoke & mirrors. Having this show connected to the War For Cybertron video games was the biggest mistake Hasbro could make. The connectivity is ridiculously cookie-cutter, & the “stakes” in the show are one-sided. The death of Cliffjumper was nothing but a shocking one-off.

Regardless of this show’s empty promises, there’s plenty to like in this sucker: the character designs, the voice acting, the soundtrack, & you have a show that gives Beast Wars a run for its money.

•Favorite episodes: Masters & Students, Predatory, Sick Mind, Rock Bottom, Partners, T.M.I., Stronger/Faster, Crossfire, Out of The Past, New Recruit, Inside Job, Patch, Regeneration, Rebellion, Thirst, Evolution, & Deadlock.

Best character designs: Arcee, Knouk Out, Smokescreen 2.0, & Optimus Prime 2.0.

Final Rating: A-.

Transformers: Armada

The show that made me a Transformers fan, but dear lord, the conflict of interest behind-the-scenes (animation):

Looking back, I failed to realize just how different Transformers was back then compared to today. The show was unique, & that uniqueness carried through the rest of the Unicron Trilogy, regardless of quality. Suffice to say, I grew up in the right time. Also, the Decepticons had the best drip.

•Favorite Episodes: Past, Past II, Sacrifice, Regeneration, Mars, Crack, Crisis, Miracle, Cramp, & Mortal Combat.

Best character design: Tidal Wave, Starscream, Demolisher, & Megatron.

Final Rating: B+.

Transformers: Generation 1

The show that started it all. I was first introduced to G1 in 2004 at the age of 9 via toys, & was dumbfounded about it. I didn’t start watching the show until the 2010’s rolled around. I watched all 4 seasons of the show, & here’s my thoughts on it:

•Season 1: plenty of fun moments weighed down by rough animation. Favorite episode: Fire In The Sky.

•Season 2: BEST of the show, with new characters, & nice rotation of characters, old & new, to boot. Better animation than 1st season. Favorite episodes: The Autobot Run, Sea Change, The Girl Who Loved Powerglide, Cosmic Rust, & Starscream’s Brigade.

•Season 3: A baffling drop in quality in more ways than 1. Animation errors out the wazoo, an unappealing sound filter for Transformer voices, the Autobots being reduced to 5-6 characters, Galvatron being a batshit lunatic, & you have a recipe for a checked out audience. Favorite episodes (miraculously): Carnage In C-Minor, Webworld, The Ultimate Weapon, Grimlock’s New Brain, & Call of The Primitives.

•Season 4: For those complaining Hollywood has become lazy with TV production, & has reduced viewership to only a handful of episodes per season, BREAKING NEWS: Hasbro did it WAY before anybody else. For just 3 episodes, this should’ve just been part of the 3rd season. My biggest complaint is the coloring, it was just off. It’s like they put in a cool filter for the animation. Didn’t care for these final 3 episodes.

Overall, I don’t hate this show, it’s just there, y’know?

Best character designs: Astrotrain, Afterburner, Brawl, Warpath, Omega Supreme, Powerglide, & Chromedome.

Final Rating: B.

Beast Wars: Transformers

Round 2 of the Generation 1 continuity, & 1 that I enjoy at times, but overall don’t care for, mainly because I don’t care for beast modes:

•Season 1: Rough animation, but a good start to a show. My biggest gripe with the show is that there should have been more characters. Favorite episodes: Chain of Command, Power Surge, Gorilla Warfare, Dark Voyage, The Low Road.

•Season 2: An improvement in animation, but overall a forgettable season. Favorite episodes: Code of Hero, Transmutate.

•Season 3: Mildly the same as season 2, the major highlight being Blackarachnia. I don’t care for Megatron’s dragon form. His season 2 character design was perfect. Favorite episodes: Optimal Situation, Changing of The Guard, Feral Scream Parts 1 & 2, Crossing The Rubicon, & Other Victories.

Best character designs: Transmetal Megatron, Blackarachnia & Rattrap, Optimal Optimus Primal

Final Rating: B-.

Transformers: Cybertron

The final hoorah for the Unicron Trilogy, & what better way to do it than with the BEST intro that Transformers can ask for? Overall, in terms of animation, this show is just noise, but when you pay attention, it has its moments in terms of story, mainly Lori being a spectrum of emotions.

•Favorite Episode: Race.

Best character designs: Ransack, Thunderblast, Vector Prime, & Crumplezone.

Final Rating: C+

Transformers: Prime Wars

Upon retrospect, this show, which was touted as “Game of Thrones of Transformers”, was a prelude of how THAT show would end up. If you do your research, you’ll understand this show was flung in with the IDW Comics’ 1st Transformers line. You have to fucking do HOMEWORK to get the background of this show. But if you have an open mind, the show is something you’ll want to come back to for the memories. Good character designs, great voice acting, & engaging soundtrack. It’s BETTER than Transformers: The Last Knight. Also, DashieXP as Menasor? Mind Nuked. 🤯

•Favorite episodes: The Fall, The Duel, Homecoming, The Fight Begins, Volcanicus, & Saga’s End.

Best character designs: Computron, Volcanicus, Solus Prime, & Grimlock.

Final Rating: C.

Beast Machines: Transformers

Before Transformers: Robots In Disguise 2015, there was this shit stain. The 3rd, & final round of the Generation 1 continuity.

Awful character designs (Maximals only), horrendously one-sided conflict, & a rinse and repeat of “gO gReEn!” messaging bullshit. Cybertron is a planet made of METAL, not dirt! The only good things about this show are Megatron & the Vehicons, MAYBE even the soundtrack if you go through it the finest toothed comb imaginable. How anybody considers this show their favorite Transformers media is beyond me.

Also, those who said that the Bayformers designs are ugly have crap taste in design.

•Favorite episodes (surprisingly): Master of The House, End of The Line, Spark of Darkness, Endgame Parts I, II, & III.

Best character designs: Thrust, Tankor, & Obsidian.

Final Rating: C-.

Transformers: Cyberverse

The SpongeBob of Transformers, & NO, that’s not good in the slightest. I kept & open mind with the show, but as the 1st season went by, I slowly realized that this show just wasn’t for me, & season 2, which begins with a time skip from the season 1 finale, all but killed the show for me. Combine the ridiculously loose story connectivity with the questionable plot choices (Slipstream & the Seekers being killed off), and the batshit unrecognizable voice cast, & it’ll leave you scratching your head if this is a different show, cosplaying as Transformers. This show tries to be like Transformers: Animated, but it fails MISERABLY. The only thing this show’s got going for it is the character designs. Also, you don’t EVER hire a person from fucking TikTok to voice Optimus Prime.

To be fair, though, it was satisfying to see Megatron kill off Starscream without saying a word to him. That is the Transformers equivalent of “Once in a Blue Moon”.

Favorite episodes (miraculously): Shadowstriker, Bad Moon Rising, Trials, & The Other One.

Best character designs: Astrotrain, Trypticon, Grimlock, & Megatron X.

Final Rating: D+

Transformers: War For Cybertron (Netflix)

This show is brand recognition PERIOD

The plot, the tone, the action sequences, & worst of all, the voice acting. These are the reasons why this show is forgettable. But, by the powers that be, it’s strangely rewatchable in some areas, mainly the 2nd half of Siege. But ultimately, this is just Dollar Tree Generation 1, with Beast Wars & Aligned continuity story elements tacked on, & from a lack of story explanation, it doesn’t work. It’s just a poorly executed highlight reel of the Transformers franchise, & that’s it.

If there’s 1 thing, & I mean ONE thing about this show that’s good, it’s the soundtrack. “Ascension” is Steve Jablonsky levels of emotional Transformers music, but that’s the only nice thing I’m going to give it.

The moment that had me fuming was the deaths of Chromia, Red Alert, Jetfire, Scrapface, & the friendly Decepticons. THEY COULD’VE FUCKING TRANSFORMED TO ESCAPE THAT BLAST, & THEY’RE CHOOSING TO FUCKING RUN.

Lastly, was Netflix too fucking cheap to hire normal voice actors?

•Favorite episodes (Somehow): Siege: Episodes 5 & 6, Earthrise: Episodes 3-4, Kingdom: Episodes 4 & 6.

Best character designs: Ultra Magnus, Jetfire, Elita-1, Ironhide, & Starscream.

Final Rating: D.

Transformers: Energon

The redheaded stepchild of the Unicron Trilogy, if not the Transformers franchise. Easily forgettable, but the only thing going for it is the character designs.

•Favorite episode: Farewell Inferno.

Best character designs: Jetfire, Scorponok, Cyclonus, & Optimus Prime.

Final rating: D-.

Transformers: EarthSpark

I REFUSE to watch this show.

Hasbro & Paramount have decided to go balls to the wall with the political messaging in this show. Case & point: Non-Binary characters, I do not fucking accept that camel shit.

Best character designs: Swindle, Megatron, & Wheeljack.

Rating: F.

Transformers: Robots In Disguise (2015)

What happened to Hasbro behind-the-scenes? How did we go from Prime to THIS? This show is the final nail in the coffin for the Aligned Continuity, & there’s no excuse for this drop in quality. Yet, by some act of god, there are diamonds in the rough, mainly Thunderhoof, the Stunticons, Windblade & Optimus Prime’s character designs, but that’s all there is.

•Favorite episodes: Ghosts And Impostors, Cover Me, Portals, & Enemy of My Enemy.

Best character designs: Thunderhoof, Motormaster, Starscream, Saberhorn, Windblade, Shadow Raker, Fracture, & Optimus Prime 4.0

Final rating: F-.

I.👏 HAVE.👏 SPOKEN.👏

[princepotatosack]

What If Choices' Race-customizable LIs Had Surnames Reflective Of Their Ethnicity?: An Experiment Just For FUn (Part 1/3)

As we're probably all aware, Choices has been going ham on their formula of "one LI whose appearance is choosable" for the past few years (ever since they started drawing criticism for narratively favoring white male LIs, i.e., when the Ramsey bubble finally burst; draw your own conclusions), and these LIs almost always have canon names or default names associated with white Anglo Americans. This is one of several reasons these LIs are described by players as "white-coded", or written as if they are white men with any changes reduced to a one-line afterthought, which kind of nullifies the point of romancing an LI of color.

Getaway Girls impressed me with branching that gave two of the six Jordan appearance options (the ones described in the asset files as "Indian") the surname Paudwal, as opposed to the other options that had the surname Parker. And then they NEVER DID IT AGAIN (ingnoring Kiss of Death cause it was a weird case I don't know how to categorize)!!

So here's me assigning surnames to race-custom LIs of other books because it's fun for me:

DISCLAIMER: The Choices single LI formula has for the most part consisted of a white LI, a Black LI, and one or occasionally two other option(s) of varying races. Framing it as white, Black, and "wildcard" raises a lot of questions about racial dynamics and percieved binaries in the United States which are NOT the point of this post but I didn't want to not address it. Also have to address that I will not be assigning new surnames to the Black LI options since most of them are American and a lot of Black Americans have Anglo surnames due to the community's history with enslavement and enslavers, and Choices has simply not given us enough lore to determine if each of the custom race LI Black options are African (or another background) and which languages are a part of their heritages. Would really appreciate if they started writing more African LIs though. Also, similar reasoning applies to face options described as "Native American" in the files re: American colonization.

ALPHA

Channing Luna

These face options are described in the files as "Hispanic". Luna was a Spanish-language surname sound match for Lowe, and plus it also means "moon"!! Yippee werewolf theme!!!!!

Channing Liu

These face options are described in the files as "Asian". The Chinese surname Liu was just the closest sound match to "Lowe" tbh.

BABY BUMP

Clint Kao

This face option is described in the asset files as "Asian". He reminds me a little of the Taiwanese actor Godfrey Gao (rip) so in my head he's Taiwanese like meeee!!! Which sucks cause I didn't like this LI that much lmao. Anyway Kao is the Taiwanese spelling of the surname that is Anglicized as Gao in Chinese Pinyin so I gave it to him cause he reminds me of Godfrey Gao (rip). Not a spelling match but then again there aren't any Chinese surnames that start with the same letter and sound as Covington (e.g., Chang and Cai both start with the letter C but start with the sounds "ch" and "ts" respectively.).

DIRTY LITTLE SECRETS

Charles Quiñones / Charlotte Quiñones

These face options are described in the asset files as "Hispanic". Went with sound matches since there aren't many (any?) Spanish-language surnames that start with K like King.

Charles Kim / Charlotte Kim

These face options are described in the asset files as "Asian". I thought Kim was a pretty good sound and spelling match for King. But it did make me realize that although Kim is the most common surname in Korea by a lot, a Choices Wiki search revealed to me that there's only one character in the entire Choicesverse with that surname and it's the FBI guy from Veil of Secrets?

DISTANT SHORES

Edward Mao

This face option is described in the asset files as "Asian". I originally chose the Japanese surname Morishima because it was an initial spelling match, multisyllabic, and had the ending "ma/mer" sound, but I wanted to honor the great Ming Dynasty Chinese tradition of piracy and its far-reaching legacy. So I went with the Chinese Mao.

Also I know he's canonically from like England which would explain why he's an 18th-century Asian man with an English first name but just for fun if he was from China I think he would be called Mao Aiwei. Or Morishima Eiji if he was from Japan.

Edward Montoya

This face option is described in the asset files as "Hispanic". Montoya was a relatively close Spanish-language sound match.

And if he had a Spanish first name too he would be Eduardo Montoya ovb.

THE DUCHESS AFFAIR

Nathaniel Pandit / Natalie Pandit

These face options are described in the asset files as "Indian". Not a lot of sound matches for Pippin but the Sanskrit surname Pandit has the intial "P" and the ending "i" sound, plus it means "scholar" and fun fact, this word is also the origin of the English term "pundit".

Also since in my research I learned that the vast majority of Indian immigrants to England in this time period adopted English language aliases for use in English society, I came up with some potential real names for these face options: Nathuram for Nathaniel and Nalini for Natalie.

FIRST COMES LOVE

Blake Mai

These face options are described in the asset files as "Asian". I decided on Mai since it could be Vietnamese or broadly Sinophone.

FOREIGN AFFAIRS

Blaine Juárez

These face options are described in the asset files as "Hispanic". Not any Spanish-language surnames that start with the letters "Ha" as far as I know so I went with a sound match.

GUARDED

Ash Harada

These face options are described in the asset files as "Asian". The Japanese surname Harada is a sound and spelling match and also one of the most common surnames in Japan! EASAYY!!! Though headcanoning them as Japanese brings the total number of Choicesverse Japanese-Americans Named Ash to three. Laugh out loud.......

Part 2

Part 3

[citrinemystic]

Listen. Listen. Hexadecimal code sigil work. Well, maybe it's more like a cousin of sigils. But like, hex codes. They're made up of letters and numbers, right? So you can code a message into them, and then use it in witchcraft. It's a bit like typical color magic, but more intentional.

As an example, say I want a color for protection. First I'll reduce it to protec. P is the sixteenth letter, and so I further reduce it by adding 1 and 6 to get 7. I do the same for all of the letters through T. So P = 7, R = 9, O = 6, and T = 2. Since E and C can both be used in hex codes, I leave them as letters. The result is #7962ec, which is this color:

Which is a nice enough color, but say I think it's not quite right for the protection spell I had in mind. So instead of using protec, I'll instead use Castle, and using a similar method to what I've described above, I get #ca123e, which looks like this:

Now that's a nice bold color, and since it's a red, I can use it as a way to say KEEP OUT. Or something.

The beauty of it is that while there are a finite number of potential colors/shades, for my puny human brain it's effectively infinite, and there's a significantly large number of different combinations I can try to get just the right shade for my intention.

In my opinion this would be best applied to digital witchcraft, but using a platform like Canva I can still design wards, sigils, etc. online and then print them out for real-world use.

So yeah. Hex code magic.

[signedjehanne]

dear white bandom tumblr, what the hell do you want us to say?

i’m tired. i’m really, really tired. 

look, what do you want us to say at this point? this was supposed to be a safe space, for the freaks and the outcasts, but we’ve long established that it is very much not safe. it’s crystal fucking clear.

and honestly, pretty much every white user on here is actively contributing to the hostility here. whether you like it or not, it’s not good to only reblog empty reassurances of anti-racism that do more service to yourself than to others. it’s not good to see poc on the dash trying to educate the white majority and doing everything possible to educate you, and either A) ignore it, B) like it, but don’t reblog it, because god forbid you sit with your discomfort for more than five seconds, or C) send racist anon hate to the original poster, or try to deflect their points. it’s not good to see something racist and let it slide. let me get this straight: none of these fans of color owe you anything. fans of color don’t owe you the time of day, fans of color don’t owe you education, and fans of color don’t owe you the dignity of a levelheaded reply in response to your racist comments. 

often times, we try to educate because we want this space to change. i mean, i didn’t have to write a five paragraph essay dissecting anti asian racism in mcr’s content. i did it because i was angry, and tired, and frustrated, and wanted the space to change. the same reason that every other ignored dissection and analysis that spent blood, sweat, tears, and emotional labor to make was created. a lot of the time you guys just don’t understand how much effort things like that take. and to be clear, this is not just the usual “oh my post didn’t go viral and i’m not a celebrity i’m so sad,” this is “i poured all of myself into trying to educate people that turned out to never care. i have been blatantly shown that the people around me aren’t interested in changing, no matter how much they claim to be.” 

and like, do you want me and countless other users to go in depth again? do you want us to jump from racist incident to racist incident? to hold your hand through explaining why making art of ray being arrested is bad, why gerard’s fetishization of asian people is bad, why making rising sun art and designs is bad, why reducing all of pete wentz’s work to being about mikey way is bad, why shaming people with non-european features for “not looking emo enough” is bad, why insulting and degrading pete and ray for their natural features is bad, why cropping ray out of tour videos is bad, why calling people slurs in their askboxes is bad? (and so much more that i didn’t add.) do you want us to go over the history of racism in alternative spaces as a whole? do you expect us to do all of those things for you on a whim, to make it palatable to you, as if we weren’t real people with real feelings behind the screen and as if we had infinite time and emotional energy? really? when there are many resources already out there, both online and offline? 

what all this tells me is you don’t see us as human. simple as that. you expect us to be able to take the abuse, to be able to silently let your racism pass, and if we ever speak up, you ignore the work we give to you and demand inhuman feats of patience and generosity, answering your every question and responding to your every debate and coddling you as you refuse to sit with the reality of the space you’ve helped to create. and that’s only if you claim to be on our side. 

it’s insane hearing you try to placate yourselves. trying to mindlessly agree without looking inward. i know this sounds harsh, but i know that most of you need to hear it. i just want this space to actually change, like i was begging for back in january and february. of course, i was foolish to believe that it ever would. and i’m foolish now, writing this as if people are ever going to pay attention. even if it does break a few hundred notes, it’s not like the message is going to stick around. sure, you’re “doing the work”, “listening and learning”, but how am i supposed to know that when your responses never change, and this scene stays the same as it ever was?