#is now under investigation and she may have removed me. ???????

[fluentmoviequoter]

Rich for a Night

Requested Here!

Pairing: David 'Deacon' Kay x fem!detective!reader

Summary: To catch a thief targeting wealthy couples, you go undercover with your husband Deacon.

Warnings: fluff, Deacon & r are held at gunpoint, a Bugatti gets wrecked :(

Word Count: 2.5k+ words

Picture from Pinterest (1x19 "Source")

Masterlist Directory | Deacon Kay Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

“It doesn’t make any sense,” you lament. “The robberies always occur after big events, dinners, charity galas, but there’s no other connection.”

“Catering company?” your desk neighbor suggests.

“Different for every event. No one worker has been at every event. Planners have alibis, there’s no similarity in looks or where victims live, even banks. The only lead we have is wealthy couples getting robbed, sometimes at gunpoint, after an event.”

You drop your head into your hands as you reconsider the entire case. You’ve looked through every guest list, and everyone has alibied out, even though only a few couples overlapped and attended every event. They got robbed, too, as it turns out. The first two robberies had a connection: they both banked at the same place, but after that, the connection disappeared.

“It has to be someone near the events,” you murmur. “Maybe it’s someone who has access to Los Angeles socialite calendars and is just hanging around the events and picking people at random.”

Your phone rings, and you sigh before you answer, “Detective Kay.”

“Detective, there’s been a murder,” the caller says.

“Let me get you someone in homicide.”

“No, this is related to your burglary case. Or at least that’s what the homicide detective thinks. It looks like a robbery gone wrong.”

“What’s the address?” you ask as you pick up your cell phone and keys. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

On the drive into the hills, you add this new twist to your thoughts on the case. You agree that this location, the schedule, and everything about the setting of the crime match your investigation. The murder is either a progression or a mistake. Maybe the burglar was interrupted, or the victim tried to stop him. Before you can create too many theories, you arrive at the scene and flash your badge to enter the house.

“What have we got?” you ask the homicide detective surveying the scene.

“Forensics is going over everything now, but it doesn’t look like anything was taken. Single gunshot to the chest was our cause of death.”

“Nothing was taken?” you repeat. “Then why do you think this is related to the thefts?”

“Because of that,” he answers, squatting as he points under the makeup vanity. “A bag filled with jewelry pushed just out of reach. Almost like a dying woman was trying to protect herself and her home.”

“What else did you find?”

“Not much. Seems like this happened pretty quickly. Alarm was disabled at eleven-oh-five p.m.”

“After the murder mystery theater on the yacht,” you add. “Date night gold for the rich.”

“Hence, why we think this is your case, not ours. They’ll try to recover the bullet during the autopsy and run ballistics.”

“Until then, it’s mine to decipher. Thanks, detective.”

“Could I make one suggestion?” he inquires as he removes his gloves. You nod, and he says, “This seems like the perfect opportunity for a UC. Even if you don’t come face-to-face with the burglar, you get to know a bit more about the victims.”

“Even more if you go undercover yourself,” your partner adds as she walks into the house. “Progression or accident?” she asks, pointing to the victim.

“I can’t go undercover,” you argue.

“Why not? You get to play dress up. Plus, you’ve got a tactically trained and incredibly attractive husband you could take with you. No one would question your right to be there with Deac’s old money vibe and your, well, everything.”

You look around the scene, a luxury environment as an outward acknowledgement of all the victim worked for, or as it may be, didn’t work for, and decide it truly is your best option.

“I need a Rolex.”

Browsing the rows of the evidence locker with a small box in your hand, you wonder why so many rich people get arrested. So far, you’ve gathered a Rolex Daytona worth at least $100,000 and three pairs of sunglasses from Cartier, Ray Ban, and Dolce and Gabbana.

“Perfect,” you whisper as you find an envelope with a Tiffany ring and a pure obsidian band.

With these accessories and the dresses your contact who works with the UC division is procuring for you, you do not doubt that you will fit in. You still need a car, but you know just the people to ask about that.

“I need to check these out, Ally,” you request as you slide the evidence onto a desk. “For case 9212024.”

“No problem,” she answers as she begins logging case numbers and photos into her computer. “Who’s the ring for?”

“My husband.”

“I pity the criminals you’re after.”

“At least they’ll get a nice view while we put the cuffs on.”

“What are you doing here?” Rocker asks as you enter SWAT HQ.

“Lovely to see you too, Donovan,” you reply with a smile. “Do you greet your wife like that?”

Rocker shrugs and hugs you quickly before he directs you to where 20 Squad is reviewing warrants.

“Sergeant Kay,” you call as you enter.

“Oh, hi!” Street greets.

“This is a surprise,” Deacon says as he moves around Street to hug you.

“I have something for you,” you begin. You pull the obsidian ring from your pocket and lift the Cartier aviators from your side. “A proposal.”

“Is this a married couple thing or am I just confused?” Street whispers.

“You don’t want me to answer that, playboy,” Luca replies, slapping his back.

“Why?” Deacon questions, smiling even as he narrows his eyes at you.

“It’s just a date,” you promise.

“To do what?”

“I’m still working the string of burglaries targeting rich couples. We’ve got tiny leads that add to enough of a clue that I want to go undercover at the next big event to try to find something. I have to work faster because a woman was killed during a robbery last night.”

“Why not take someone more familiar with the case?”

“Do it, Deac,” Street whispers. “Just for the watch.”

“What watch?” Deacon asks.

You lift your hand to show the Rolex Daytona hanging loosely around your wrist. “There’s a look to people like this. I’ve got everything except a date right now, and you’re the best option for more reasons than I can list, Deac. If you can’t, I get it.”

“No, I want to,” he states, taking the sunglasses from your hand and sliding them onto his face. “Let’s catch a burglar.”

“Oh, that’s just not fair,” Street complains.

“Street,” you call. “I need something from you and Luca too.”

“Alright,” you announce after you secure your earrings. “We just moved here from New York, have our accounts set up, moved into a newly renovated house in the hills and are scoping out the local charities because we’re budding philanthropists.”

“And luring a thief,” Deacon adds as he gently tugs the strap of your dress to straighten your neckline.

“Mostly that.”

“I’m following your lead tonight, detective.”

“I like the sound of that.”

“Your ride is here,” Street says on the other side of your door. “And you’re welcome, but don’t get used to it. Luca and I may be brilliant, but we’re not get a free Bugatti loaner every week brilliant.”

“I never said it had to be a Bugatti,” you whisper to Deacon.

“I can hear you, ya know,” Street calls. “You are wearing a wire. So, keep it PG, Deac.”

Deacon smiles as he leans toward the tiny microphone hidden in the seam of your dress strap and answers, “10-4, good buddy.”

Street groans, and you gently push Deacon’s shoulders to straighten his tie. He looks good, though you expected no less.

“Let’s be rich for a night.”

“Welcome, Mr. and Mrs. Napier,” the chauffeur greets as he opens your door. “Beautiful car. It's number 17,” he adds as he hands Deacon the card to pick up the car after the event. “Enjoy your evening.”

“Thank you,” Deacon answers, nodding as he shakes the man’s hand and passes a $50.

You wait on the curb as Deacon rounds the back of the Bugatti and wraps his arm around your waist.

“If he scratches that car, Street will kill me,” you say through your smile.

“Good thing it’s not Street’s car,” Deacon replies. “Let’s go, Mrs. Napier.”

You smile while you loop your arm around Deacon’s bicep and follow him into the concert hall. Innumerable couples are finding their seats and milling around the open area of the hall as they discuss charities, recent events, and bank account balances. With Deacon, you have no concern about looking out of place, and your confidence is assured when three different women look over at him. One of which looks away from her husband to do so.

“Good evening,” a woman greets, smiling as she approaches you. “My name is Andrea Campbell and I’m hosting this evening’s event. Forgive me if I’m mistaken, but I don’t recall meeting you.”

“No, ma’am, you haven’t,” Deacon says, carefully extracting his arm from your hold as he offers to shake her hand. “I’m Dan Napier and this is my wife. We just moved here from upstate New York and wanted to see the charities of Los Angeles.”

“Oh, how wonderful! Mrs. Napier, I am an advocate for women in philanthropy, so if you have any questions please do not hesitate to contact me. I truly hope you enjoy this evening’s show and the presentation.”

“Thank you,” you offer before Andrea is called away. Once she’s out of earshot, you stifle a laugh and whisper, “I’m surprised she even saw me.”

“Mrs. Napier, is it?” a man asks, allowing as he pauses directly at your side, out of Deacon’s reach. “My associate Andrea mentioned that you were here. I believe you recently opened an account at my branch of United Banks. Hopefully you can spare some time soon so I can show you around LA.”

He walks away before you or Deacon can speak, and you’re left to watch him and wonder why he chose to acknowledge you.

“Think he’s a suspect?” Deacon murmurs into your ear as you turn toward him.

“No,” you answer, moving your professionally styled hair as you shake your head. “Just a man with a roving eye. We have no evidence that our guy goes after women any more than men.”

“But he killed the woman last night.”

“The husband called it in, though. He was in the house when it happened. Said they were both tied up and she managed to get free and went into the bedroom to confront the thief. He’s scared, he doesn’t like being watched. Nothing like that guy.”

Deacon nods and pulls you close, smiling before he kisses you quickly. You slide your hand into his and follow him to your seat.

During the concert, nothing of note occurs. Even after it ends, you’re welcomed to Los Angeles by several couples, but no one sticks out as a possible suspect. So, disappointed and back at square one, you exit the concert hall and stand at Deacon’s side as he asks the chauffeur to fetch the car.

Just as the Bugatti pulls up, the man who parked your loaner car moves behind Deacon and presses a gun against the small of his back.

“Get in the car, Mr. Napier. I’d hate to shoot through your wife’s pretty dress,” he demands quietly. “Now.”

Deacon moves his hands slightly to show the man that he’s unarmed and mumbles, “Okay, okay.”

“In the car, Mrs. Napier,” he demands, jerking his head toward the passenger door.

You nod quickly, wearing faux fear on your face as you get in the front seat. Deacon sits in the driver’s seat beside you as the armed man slides in behind him.

“Nice car,” he applauds. “Now drive to your house. Either one of you moves for a phone… if you even adjust the air vent, I will shoot you both.”

You don’t think he will, not somewhere as noticeable and closed-in as the car, but you nod and pretend to swallow a sob as Deacon pulls the Bugatti out of the short driveway.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” the man begins as Hondo speaks into your earpiece to alert you that he’s behind you in an unmarked car. “We’re going to go into your house, you’re going to turn off the alarm and get out of my way, and I’m going to take whatever I want. Understood?”

“You don’t have to do this,” Deacon replies.

The man presses the gun against your temple and yells, “Understood?!”

“Yes,” Deacon answers quickly, tightening his grip on the steering wheel, his knuckles white as his hands remain firmly at 10 and 2. “Understood.”

“I trust you, Dan,” you whisper as his left hand shifts slightly. “And everything you’d want people to do.”

“Shut up!” the man demands, lowering his gun slightly as he looks between you and Deacon.

“I trust you, Daniel,” you repeat softly, hoping your wire picks it up.

“I hope you don’t regret that,” Hondo answers in your ear. “Turn one light too early if you mean it, Deac.”

Deacon’s jaw clenches as he approaches the last light before your turn.

“This way is faster,” he tells the thief as he hits the blinker but doesn’t move.

Hondo’s engine revs as he increases his speed, steering his car to the right to perform a PIT manoeuvre.  When his front bumper collides with the side of the Bugatti, Deacon releases the wheel and turns toward you. He grabs the man’s forearm and hits it against the passenger seat as you retrieve your service weapon from your ankle holster. The car slides to a stop against the curb, and the man drops his gun, then begins crying as you level your aim at him.

“You’re under arrest,” you tell him, panting as you try to catch your breath and lower your heart rate.

“Who are you?” the man whimpers as Deacon holds his arm between the front seats.

“Detective Kay, LAPD,” you answer. “This is Sergeant Kay. And the man about to pull you out onto the pavement is Sergeant Hondo. LAPD SWAT.”

“Wait,” he interrupts, sniffling. “You’re actually married?”

Hondo rips the door open before you can answer and grabs the back of the man’s shirt collar to haul him out of the car. He looks through the open back door to check on you and Deacon, then clicks his tongue.

“Luca and Street are not going to be happy.”

You tip your head back against the headrest and groan.

“Congratulations, Detective Kay,” Deacon says.

He smiles as you turn in the seat to face him.

“I love you,” you tell him softly. “Even more without the expensive jewelry.”

“But I look good in the sunglasses, right?”

You laugh and nod but point out, “We didn’t need them for a concert at night, though.”

Deacon laughs with you, and as the approaching police lights reflect around you, you know your life is richer with Deacon than with any material belongings you could ever borrow or earn.

[myownprivatcidaho]

.

[small-but-mighty]

Meet Mable!

I’ve been putting off telling this story because I wanted to focus on the other stories that these animals have to share. Anyways, my sister finally told me it’s an important one to share. So, meet Mable!

Mable is actually my bunny. She is a wonderful beautiful lionhead with just the right amount of “bunitude”. However, she hasn’t always had her luxurious long mane.

One day, one of the animal cruelty officers from work (the RISPCA) got word of a rabbit in rough condition posted on Craigslist. So, she went and investigated and ended up bringing the rabbit to our clinic for veterinary care. The little rabbit was in ROUGH condition. All four limbs were covered in urine scolding, and there was not an ounce of fat on the body, you could feel the bones. Just incase somebody who isn’t bunny savy is reading this, rabbits must always have a source of hay, this enables them to have the fiber required to keep their insides moving, if their digestive system were to stop, it very quickly can kill the rabbit. The little bunny brought to clinic, was on the verge of this happening. The small animal manager texted our team and said that this little bunny was coming into the shelter and that our vet was not sure she was going to make the weekend. I asked if our vet wanted me to take her, to at least pass on a home with love. What I thought was going to be a weekend just to give a little bun a home to pass, turned into the start of a long journey.

She survived the first weekend, and by then… she stole my heart. This little baby was only about three months old, and she had a fighting spirit. She was a bit shy about me, but she knew I was helping her, taking her meds like a champ, and chowing down on all the hay I could offer. I knew I couldn’t let her go. That Tuesday (it was a long weekend!) I brought her back to the clinic, it was time to start the process of finding out just how truly bad her legs were. This meant she had to be put under anesthesia. While under anesthesia the veterinarian was able to perform x-rays on her legs, which showed that the urine scolding on her legs (this was caused by her living in her own filth) was so bad, the infection went down to one of the bones. Great. We made the weekend, we woke up from anesthesia, but now we have to pray we can treat this infection. Or else she would have to become a little tripod. Now becoming a tripod would not have been the end of Mable’s story, I remember doing research about tripod rabbits, just incase! However, nobody wants to ambulate a bunny’s leg…..

So after removing all the dead skin from all four limbs, I was able to be there when Mable woke up from her anesthesia. It was no longer a mission to just survive, we were gonna heal now. For months, Mable wore cast like bandages on her legs and got antibiotics twice a day. These had to be changed twice a week by a vet. We started out with all 4 in casts, then we went to just her back legs, until it was just her one really bad leg. FINALLY, all four legs were free! The first time I ever saw this bunny binky, I almost cried! She was able to do that, because of the time, patience, talent, and dedication our team had.

She still wasn’t done yet though! There was still one more big procedure she had to make it through. Her spay! I will always advocate for spaying and neutering your bunny, but my goodness was I nervous! The little fighter has already gone through so much and she had to go through a surgery now! Of course she came through like it was nothing though.

I took Mable home on January 20th, 2023, and her official adoption day of when she was medically cleared was May 23,2023. So it was a very lengthy process of healing, my entire last semester of college actually.

Today, Mable is the most spoiled bunny! She has her own bed, so many toys and treats (including those that come in her monthly subscription box), and so many people that love her! She recently had her first yearly check up where she got a clean bill of health!

You can sometimes find Mable with me at the RISPCA, where we have told our story to kids at our humane education camp, and even to potential adopters or those who are trying to learn more about rabbits when they attend our bunny related events!

Mable is a huge part of my life and even though she is a tiny little gal, she really has shown both me and the world just how mighty she is. Next time you visit the RISPCA, look around the adoption areas and the smallie room, you may just find her picture around!

[seoftbear]

TW

discussing the taeil situation

As I’m sure many of you have seen that Taeil was removed/left NCT due to Sexual Offense Allegations.

“On August 29, the Seoul Bangbae Police Station revealed that the police booked Taeil after a report was filed in June for alleged sexual offense.

According to the police, Taeil is being investigated after being reported by legal adult woman “A.”

source

First off I’d like to say that obviously Im absolutely disgusted with Taeil and this entire thing makes me feel sick. I know they won’t see this but my thoughts are with those effected by this and I’m glad she had the courage to speak out and I hope she gets the support and justice that she wants during this time.

Now I’d like to talk about what has been weighing on me personally about this situation? I tend to stay off of twitter but I’ve seen a lot of links and post being circulated in the last 24 hours about this and it’s been really killing me.

As of now the police have booked Taeil back in June and he is being investigated by police for sexual offense, currently that’s all of the information that’s been confirmed by authorities. (I linked the article above and that has a link to the Naver article too.)

I’m sure some of you guys may be younger and haven’t truly grasped the full gravity of this, but misinformation can really damage cases like this especially as a woman.

Unfortunately the internet spread fake news fast and screenshots and stories have been circulating on twt/tiktok social media in general being translated and mistranslated from numerous different languages and people are just adding to the narrative for the drama it seems like… (please understand that even if something is in a different language and “translated” it does not make it facts.) I’ve seen others ask people where the source was for the information they got and then get called “Taeil defenders” when they just wanted to know where the information came from in the first place. I also read comments where people were saying that it didn’t matter if it was misinformation?

This is someone’s life we are talking about and seeing people say “they can’t wait for certain youtube channels to make videos about this because they need all of the details” or “they’ve been searching for more information all day and have come up with etc etc.” is really disheartening to see it be made into a spectacle. There’s only been one statement from the police as I’m aware of and in under 24 hours twt has finalized and circulated a story that has no source.

Unfortunately this stuff will happen because it’s the internet regardless and people are curious and in shock so wanting details on something is understandable but please understand that this is someone’s life not just backlash and justice against Taeil.

Speaking out isn’t easy and speaking out against a celebrity under big company? I can’t imagine, so please please please think about what you are posting and reposting. It’s not you supporting the victim, it’s just spreading gossip, theories/speculations, and can really tamper with the case guys. This is already a traumatizing experience and now it’s public and people are prying to know details about something so horrible and invasive??? At the end of the day if no statements are released about details or information and you are upset please take a step back and really think what for.

With this Ive seen a lot of people talk about parasocial relationships, how you don’t know these men, all men are men at the end of the day, don’t trust your favs etc etc. Though I definitely agree with you don’t know the people you like at the end of the day, I think that everyone knows that to some extent. However I don’t think parasocial relationship or not knowing someone is to blame when this kind of stuff happens, rather it’s normal to believe that someone you admire/like is cool person especially if portrayed that way. The thing about abusers/assaulters is that they can be anyone, that’s not to say that you shouldn’t trust anyone and that all people/idols are secretly awful but it’s more about that it’s not anyone’s fault for believing that they were a good person. So if anyone is going through that “ I can’t believe I liked someone like that” feeling that’s okay. It’s not your fault and you’re allowed to work through them.

that’s all

sorry if this is too long and makes no sense or comes off wrong or disrespectful please let me know kindly

[klbwriting]

Broken Prism

Chapter 24

Fandom: Red Hood

Pairing: Jason Todd x f!reader

Warnings: descriptions of mutilation, slight torture, body horror

Summary: the Batfamily interrogates their prisoner and he leads them to a horrifying sight and you are done with everything, including Jason

Dick and Bruce strung the Professor Pyg knock off in a corner room off the garage on a chain, facing the wall so he couldn’t identify where he was at. They were going to take him to the GCPD but wanted to ask their own questions first, so they used the chain from the ceiling and secured his hands, searching him using a kind of x-ray gun based on Superman’s powers. He had a tracking device installed in his bicep, so Tim shorted it out using a less than kind electric shock. The man didn’t react. They tried to pull off the mask, but it didn’t move, it was sewn into his skin. Jason couldn’t lie, that was smart but gross. The bag Pyg had been carrying sat on a lab table near by being investigated by Dick and YN. The hearts of those at the bar were inside.

“Are you part of the group that has been committing the murders around the city aimed at Red Hood?” Batman asked. The man nodded. “Tell us everything you know, or this experience will be less pleasant than it already is.” There came a laugh from under the mask.

“I do not care about unpleasantness Bruce Wayne,” he said. The air seemed to go out of the room. Even though everyone was aware that this group knew who they were to hear one speak the name of Batman out loud was still a shock. It still made them freeze and look around, wondering who had let the secret out, whose fault it was that they were now targets, not their alter egos. “You may all remove your masks; we know all of you.”

“And who is we?” Batman asked, keeping his cowl in place. Pyg let out another laugh. This whole situation was apparently hilarious to the creature. Batman balled his fist and threw it, hitting him in the face. The mask sustained more damage, a tear showing just a hint of pallid skin beneath it. Other that a sharp exhale at the impact of the punch there was no other indication something happened. No grunt of pain, no increase of heartrate on Tim’s monitors, nothing. It was like he didn’t feel it.

“We are those who want to see how far we can push the Hood, we knew he was from the Wayne family, but we were very surprised to see that he was the long thought dead Jason Todd. What kind of man comes back from the dead? What does that do to the mind? The Doctor is very interested in what will make him break, especially now that his quest for the blood of his killer is complete. What else matters now? The children he wants to spare? The old friends he used to have before death? The new brother from after his return? Perhaps his new fiancé? Will see be the final piece to destroy him? The doctor is not so sure. He wants to talk to the Red Hood, really understand how he ticks,” the voice behind the mask said. Batman frowned.

“Where is this doctor? I’ll pay him a visit,” Jason said, getting tired of this guy’s attitude. He hated this dramatic monologue bullshit. The Pyg looked at him. “He wants to chat tell me where he is.”

“O you will not find him, he will find you when he wants. You cannot even enter his office only we few have the privilege. And he is always watching,” he said. Jason nodded and aimed a gun at the Pyg’s head.

“Always watching? Think whatever camera he’s watching from will work with a bullet in there?” he asked, snarling. Batman shot him a look.

“Red Hood, we’re not done with him,” he said. Jason snarled but put the gun away, turning to pace. He was starting to feel caged, the pit rage burning through his veins, dying to be released. He could feel himself starting to lose control. His eyes found YN like they always did in these situations, and she looked back at him. He watched her, seeing her slow her breathing, his matching it. He was burning still but it had dulled just a little at the sight of her face. It was enough for him to keep control of himself for now.

“He does have a transmitter in the mask, but if I short it out the shock will kill him,” Tim said, still looking at his tablet. Jason shrugged.

“Seems like a win-win to me,” he grumbled. Batman once again gave him a disapproving look, but Jason didn’t care. He was too angry to worry about Bruce’s moral code at the moment. When he got his hands on these guys they were dead, all of them.

“All this time this is taking, such a waste,” Pyg said. “I already decided to dieeeeeee,” he sang out, now swinging on the chain that held him up. “It’s slow and it’s burning me from the inside out, but it’s giving us time.”

“Time for what?” Dick asked, looking up from cataloging the heart evidence.

“The Wayne family isn’t the only family involved. There is also YN and her little family, the one she left alone and so very vulnerable. Do you think they need you now? Those you called your sisters?” Pyg asked. YN’s face paled. There was a laugh from behind the mask that started to sound like gurgling, then the Pyg fell silent.

“He’s dead,” Tim said. He started trying to track a feed location from the camera and dug the tracker out his bicep. “I’m going to fix this, see if I can get the last location from this too.”

“I need to go see if Jocelyn and Aura are alright,” YN said, face pale. She ran out of the room, getting into the McLaren and leaving before even Jason could catch up. He hopped on his bike and followed.

You ran up the stairs, the elevator seeming too slow. You approached the door and your breath hitched, seeing the door cracked just a little. It opened to a horror scene and everything in your world seemed to stop. There was a buzzing in your ear, your eyes couldn’t focus. Blood was everywhere. Jocelyn lay on the couch, reclined like she was watching TV, hand even holding the remote. Only the skin of her face was missing, her chest ripped open, a gaping hole where her heart should have been. Aura was at the table, bowl in front of her, both hearts in it. Her face was also missing. You smelled something burning but couldn’t get your mind to think process anything beyond the sight of your best friends, dead and posed like dolls in some sick playhouse. You weren’t sure when you fell to your knees, you didn’t feel the pain of them hitting linoleum. You didn’t even know when Jason got there, his arms suddenly around you as he tried to pull you back out the door. You let out a cry as he yanked you out, gripping you close as everything finally slammed into you. The buzzing had been the beeping of the smoke alarm from the burning faces on the stove. The smell the melting flesh of your friends’ identities stolen from them. The floor had a message in their blood.

We will take everything from you Red Hood

You looked at yourself, seeing blood on your clothes from you kneeling in it. You let out a cry of horror. You didn’t care when the blood on you was from yourself, but this was your best friends, your sisters. Jason hugged you again, whispering anything in your ear to try and calm you. After several minutes you finally were able to gain some control of yourself, just in time for the GCPD to arrive.

“YN,” Jim said softly, looking at you as his investigators entered the apartment. You stared at him, still not sure if everything that was happening was real or not. “YN, let’s go downstairs.” You nodded slowly and followed him, your brain moving quickly as you started to think of a plan that Jason would hate but considering they wanted to break him it might be the only way to find these monsters.

Jason had been quiet driving you back to the cave. He had said he would get his bike later, now he just wanted you safe. You stared straight ahead, mind empty of everything but the sight of Jocelyn and Aura, mutilated and humiliated in their deaths in a way that would never leave you. You could never imagine closing your eyes again without seeing that destruction. You wondered when you would stop smelling their blood mixed with the burning flesh on the stove. You needed a shower, but there would be time for that later. You needed to end this.

Dick was there to help you out of the car when you were back in the garage. You heard Jason get out and he took of his helmet. You rounded on him, fury in your eyes.

“THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!” you screamed, eyes blazing. Jason stood, shocked, staring at you, first confused, then hurt. “They were innocent, and you let them…they tortured them Jason all because you had to go after Joker!” You walked over, fist balling, until you were close enough to throw it at his face. He reeled from the unexpected impact.

“YN…I didn’t mean for this to happen…” he said, trying to scramble, think of anything to make you stop. You knew this would kill him, but you needed to do this.

“You didn’t mean for it to happen? Or course not Jason, you never do anything, everything just happens to you. You don’t mean for me to get kidnapped by Black Mask and drown, you just stupidly showed up at my door, leading them to me! And Poison Ivy? If you had just, I don’t know, pulled a fire alarm when you got to the lounge instead of having to find me like an idiot, more people would have lived! You are the reason these things happen, and I was so stupid to think that I could help you, that maybe if I sat by long enough and let you see the messes you made you would finally realize that everything was better without you. I’d rather never see a single color again than have you in my life,” you said, taking off the ring and throwing it at him. He caught it and stared after you as you ran over to Tim, hugging him, hammering the last painful nail into the coffin. Let Jason see that he was being replaced again. Tim kept his arm around you and walked away, dropping the Pyg mask he had been carrying that had just watched everything unfold. Watched as you imploded Jason’s world and your own.

[pigeonpeach]

Genshin cat dads enduring the struggles of having a cat!

Summary: silly times.

Neuvillete

“No Bubbles you may not have a second dinner. The vet has deemed you a ‘chonker’ and has advised you to go on a diet.” Neuvillete continued signing papers as the kitty continued to sulk by its empty food bowl. Looking up at him with the most pathetic and wantonly eyes. He didn’t meet its gaze.

“Don’t you dare.” He said. The kitty jumped onto the desk instead it ended up dragging a paper off. Within a instant the kitty was startled and jumping around scampering to get away as the paper had apparently gotten stuck to its paw pad. Neuvillete stood up trying to figure out what to do while the cat thrashed about like a fish flopping on water, running into the coffee table, hopping onto the couch and trashing about. He quickly grabbed the cat holding it still. Bubbles still didn’t still, her tail was positively fluffy as her eyes were huge in fear as if the paper was killing her. It wasn’t, he quickly pulled it off and put her down to which she seemed to frantically search her body. He smiled as she slowly calmed down. He returned to his desk to which she followed him, jumping back onto the desk and yet again getting the same paper stuck to her foot. As before she leaped off terrified.

“You never learn do you Bubbles.” He scolded as he carefully grabbed the paper pulling it off. The cat seemed paranoid as it ran under the couch. He sighed. “What would you do without me.” He said

Diluc

Diluc was very confused. On his bed Selene his beloved little kitty laid with four kittens nursing from her. His bed now a mess as he pondered just how she had gotten pregnant and hid it. He simply thought she was getting fat but apparently not. He carefully approached her, she chirped as she took notice of him. She was purring. He brushed her delicately as he looked over the kittens. All of which seemed as dark as her. He couldn’t help but feel amazed. They were so delicate, so soft and beautiful. He kissed Selene’s little head as if to reward her for this gift.

A month later it stopped feeling like a gift thiugh. Instead of one stealthy and slightly mischievous blob there was now four mini mischievous blobs that maids would trip over or be spooked by. Adelinde hardly had a peaceful time cooking anymore, the kittens often had to be locked away when food was served. But even so they meowed loudly enough to be heard. Diluc sighed as he considered his options.

“You know we could always give the kittens away. They’re going to old enough to leave their mother soon enough. Although I must admit they are all so adorable.” Adelinde said coddling one of the kittens. They had been given names but since they were so young it was hard to tell them apart. Initially Adelinde tied a big bow tie color coordinated to each kitten, but the kittens saw it as a toy and it had to be removed before they strangled each other.

“I’ll look into.” Diluc said.

But later that night when he came home he didn’t hear the pitter patter of the kitties and their mother coming to greet him. He couldn’t help but feel worried. He lit a candle as he investigated. Eventually settling for shaking a treat container. Nothing. He quickly went to Adelinde freaking out as he noticed his bedroom door was open. He peered in spotting the family on his bed, taking up most of the space. Diluc sighed as he picked up the kittens waking them up as they grumpily meowed in annoyance. He laid down as the kittens soon climbed ontop of him. He couldn’t help but get attached then. Deciding to delay giving them away for as long as he could.

Wriothesley

Many would expect prisoners to be cruel and inhumane especially to little creatures such as cats. Not so. His little Kitty unintentionally caused a riot because someone accidentally stepped on its tail and the inmates immediately jumped them. The Duke’s kitty is quite a prized asset. Very useful in morale, sometimes she is allowed to wander, under watch of guards of course. But even they were hesitant to intervene in letting the kitty abuser get away with it unharmed. Said Kitty immediately ran to Wriothesley as if nothing happened. He couldn’t help but feel suspicious.

“Did you plan that?” He asked as he pet his purring little feline. She meowed in response.

“No, not offering food is not a acceptable reason to get someone jumped.” He said. She meowed again.

“You’re too spoiled. You’re lucky you’re such a cutie though.” Wriothesley sighs as he pets his devious kitty.

Zhongli

He came home from latern rite to find his house a mess. Porcelain smashed, decorations broken or knocked over. Including the cat tree. He immediately set about looking for his little cat. Thinking someone broke in and maybe hurt them, his heart racing until he looked under his bed to see them shivering in fear. It occurred to him then that his cat must’ve been oh so scared of the fireworks. The Tianquan had used a new kind this year that was supposedly better but even he deemed too loud. He carefully reached down to scoop his kitty out.

“There there little one. There’s no need to fear. The fireworks are over.” He said as he immediately began to brush the trembling cat. The kitty slowly calming down as it began to purr in his lap. It looked at him guiltily as it had caused alot of damage. He chuckled.

“Potteries can be repaired, but I cannot replace you as easily my love.” He said placing a kiss on their forehead. “I’m not mad. I’ll ask the Tianquan to consider switching back. I can’t imagine how many kitties are out there right now terrified. But I assure you little one, there is nothing to fear.”

The cat now calm rested in his lap as he smiled. He’d have to buy some glue but at least his little one was okay.

[astoldbyaja]

Balance - AU JJK - side plot #3 - Loyalty Test

An agent comes to visit Bee asking about a deadly assassin. How will she react?

A firm knock grabbed my attention as I was getting up from the couch. I had at least two hours left before it was time to go pick up Megumi and Tsumiki from school. I moved over to the front door and looked through the peephole to see a man in a black suit. I opened the door already staring at the thinned mustached man with distrust.

“Yes?” I asked and the man held up a badge.

“Agent Kong. Are you Beatrice Love?” he asked. I nodded once. “I’m leading an investigation on some robberies and even a few muggings going on in your neighborhood, may I come in?”

I looked him over and nodded opening the door wider so he could enter. I led him over to my bar.

“Would you like something to drink, lemonade, tea?” I asked.

“No thank you. Have you noticed any suspicious characters roaming around the neighborhood?” he asked, and I shook my head as my bar was the only thing separating us.

“Nothing too out of the ordinary.” I replied. He nodded with a low hum and pulled out what looked like photos.

“What about this man?” he asked. Although my eyes were calm, my heart was pounding as I stared at Toji’s rough stare. I looked the picture over some noticing it wasn’t exactly a mug shot. I shook my head.

“Never seen him before.” I replied. Why was I lying? It was obvious Toji’s odd jobs were shady dealings. I remembered the time he came home with blood on his clothes. Agent Kong nodded eyeing me suspiciously. He knew I was lying, but he couldn’t prove it!

“Miss Love, take a closer look. This man is Toji Fushiguro, one of the underworld’s most lethal assassins. He has killed many. Men... women...” he said. I tensed some at his words as I eyed the picture.

“I see… I’m sure you know of my background Mr. Kong. I am an heiress why would I associate with lowly criminals?” I asked. He nodded.

“I know a lot about you and your family fortune Miss Love, which is why I reached out to you first. Sitting in this apartment all alone with no protection, no body guards. You’re a sitting duck for anyone who would want to make a quick buck off you.” he said. I waved my hand, waving off his words.

“I don’t bother to worry about such things. I thank you for your concern and checking up on me,” I said now moving to walk over to the door. Taking the hint Agent Kong moved back to the door. I could hear heavy footsteps approaching the door. Oh no. “But I do not know this man.”

And on cue, the door was unlocking and opening up and standing in the doorway was Toji in the black hoodie I bought him months ago. Agent Kong turned to him and Toji frowned with confusion as he had two white bags in his hand.

“The fuck you doing here?” he asked, but I didn’t hear him, because I was doing something that caught all three of us off guard. My body jumped atop of the back of the Agent and we both yelled out: Agent Kong from shock and me of confidence, almost like a war cry.

“HEY WHAT ARE YOU DOING!” Agent Kong yelled out, and I immediately covered the man’s eyes and started attempting to gouge at them.

“RUN TOJI I’LL HOLD HIM OFF!” I yelled trying to wrestle the guy to the ground.

“HEY GET OFF ME! TOJI GET HER OFF!” Agent Kong snapped trying to pull me off him. I couldn’t believe I was trying to fight an agent of the law. He knew I was aiding a wanted criminal! I could go to jail, well maybe not. I have a lot of money and good lawyers, so I wasn’t too worried about me. But if anything, I was worried for Toji. I didn’t want him to be taken away from his kids or really taken away from me.

Now there was a low rumble that I had heard before and now Agent Kong and I paused as we looked at Toji who let out a booming laugh to the ceiling, tears swelling on his lash line. He sat the bags down and approached me with a smile putting his hands under my underarms to remove me.

“At ease Mama, Shiu’s a friend.” he exclaimed as he pealed me off the man’s back and set me down. I looked at Toji confused.

“What?” I asked before looking at the agent who was straightening up his suit jacket and cleared his throat.

“Yes, well I wanted to make sure you were legit. When Toji kept boasting that he was staying with a beautiful woman who he and his kids adored, I needed to make sure you were on the up and up in the loyalty department.” he said. I arched a brow and glanced at Toji.

“I’m guessing he is your source?” I asked speaking back on the first time Toji found out about my wealth and background. He shrugged.

“Maaaaybe.” he said and in response I pinched his nipple. He jumped up and hissed covering his nipple now. Shiu watched with an arched brow.

“Yeah, I see why he’s crazy for you.” he said and Toji shot him a glare.

“Next time you want to do a loyalty test, tell me so I can tell you not to do it. Bee’s down, I trust her.” he said placing his hand around my hip. Shiu just cleared his throat.

“Obviously. Anyways I got a job for you.” he said. Toji gave the thumbs up and pointed at the door.

“Let’s go to your car, I don’t talk business here.” he commanded, and the man nodded and looked at me with a smile.

“It was nice meeting you Miss Love.” he said. I smiled.

“Likewise, and please everyone calls me Bee.” I replied. He nodded and moved to the door and stepped outside. Toji smirked down at me and gave me a heartfelt kiss. I was stunned by the sudden movement.

“What was that for?” I asked when he pulled back licking his lips.

“You were willing to fight a man you thought was a cop to give me time to “escape”. I appreciate the sentiment, but know I’ll never put you in a position to have to do that.” he said seriously, and I looked up at him with a smile nodding in thanks.

"Well I just didn't want you to be taken away from your children... or me." I replied. He groaned.

"You're so sexy when you care about me." he purred.

“Thank you.” I replied and he smirked and kissed the tip of nose.

“I’ll be back and then we can chill before picking up the kids then we can go out to eat!”

“Sounds good darling.” I replied.

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s2 episode 19 thoughts

did you ever want to see mulder and scully die of old age? well, you're in luck! this episode was made for you <3

i'm giggling. who came up with this concept?

when i was reading the plot description, i kept thinking of all those memes a few years back about the beach that makes you old. it was referencing the plot of the m. night shyamalan movie with this very concept, aptly titled "old"... good to know he isn't the first one to come up with such a topic. also we moved on from that meme too fast because it was hilarious.

okay. let's go.

pause. we open on a boat at sea. i haaaate boats. we seriously need to stop getting on boats because it seems that only bad things follow.

some people are leaving this boat. and a guy threatens to stop them. but he doesn't. and they climb into a lifeboat and sail off.

those who sailed off in the sailboat have been found by another boat. they were sailing the seas and playing blackjack. blackjack is great, boats less so. these new guys are tying to rope in those from the lifeboat for help, but they're not being super responsive. this is because they have become very old men.

(i was trying to think about how i would respond to finding a rescue boat full of old men on the open ocean, and i think i would assume it was a cruise wreck. recently read an article about the secret world of cruises. fascinating stuff)

((anyway, when we're looking at these newly old men, you can tell that it is in fact the same young actors under a bunch of makeup, and it's an eerie thing to view. baby old men))

at this point, i asked the question on everyone's mind: are we going to speedrun the whole msr thing by throwing them on this boat? like, skipping to growing old together? it's almost romantic, in a way

anyway, back to the present day. after the newly old men have been rescued. mulder calls scully to a hospital, and thanks her for coming without explanation.

she has freckles and he has to bend down to whisper to her, two things i enjoy greatly.

he wants her to go in and talk to the one survivor of the whole thing, and they wouldn't let him in, so her medical background is a good excuse, and he got her clearance. he tells her to figure out what is going on then come back to his office, and instead of listening to her try and ask questions, he grabs her shoulders and says thank you. and leaves.

she is baffled. for a man like him, a shoulder grab probably explains everything.

(this has prompted contemplation on that man and his relationship to physical touch. i just know he'd cry if given a nice long hug)

so she goes in the room and picks up the chart, and despite the fact that a very old man is sitting on the table there, she sees his chart says he's supposed to be like 25. so she asks why there hasn't been a full investigation and the physician comes in and says "i wasn't aware that my diagnostic decisions required your approval"

OOP. an awkward situation! she must have chased mulder off. and while it may be a bit weird to have another doctor burst into your patient's room, is this not a valid question to ask???

the physician demands scully show her clearance, which she does, and she is told it is invalid, and to get out now before she is removed. which is sus as hell!!!! what are they hiding...

back to mulder's office. she walks in and tosses her coat on his chair. ah, casual intimacy of cohabitation. i love you dearly.

and this man is deeply touchy today... he must have known he was setting her up to get yelled at in the hospital and this is his way of saying sorry. that's my best guess, anyway.

he's got a map pinned on the wall and he's pointing out all the ships that have gone through the area and disappeared, and as i began to make my average declaration- that this was "nerd behavior"- my phone began to predict the text for me. well! it is consistent at least.

"do you know anything about the philadelphia project?" he asks scully. and she explains it to him, but i had to google to see if it was a real thing. and actually, i had heard of it before, because the u.s.s. eldridge makes a very brief cameo in season 1 of loki!! but it seems to be mostly a thing that didn't happen. i'll have to look into at a later date.

mulder proposes that those involved with the teleportation philadelphia project must still be at it, and they are using this area to explore wormholes on earth.

(scully exhales quietly) "wormholes." <- god-tier reaction

he decides to head out to norway and investigate, and she wants to come!! woohoo 8:30 flight to norway!!

they're in the norwegian bar. looking cute. asking for help re:area where boats are going mia. but no one wants to help!

until a very conveniently placed american over hears them! and he has a ship that can take them out there! ahh, storytelling conventions <3

he says he'll take them out there, but he is the only one who will do so, because all the others think that there is an evil god in the sea. and evil god or not, i am not sure i trust this man who offers to give them a ride.

NOOOO poor mulder is getting seasick :( he seems to have lost his quick tongue in the war against the ocean:

"you're lucky you inherited your father's legs", he says to scully. "what," she deadpans, smiling. "his SEA legs", he clarifies, and she laughs while he is in misery.

(and this was sosososo cute <3)

they have been on the boat for 12 hours...... i would have simply perished!!!

they then CRASH into another ship and he is suffering even MORE immensely

so they climb onto this ship they ran into, and it looks old and rusty, like 20 or 30 years hanging out in the ocean rusty, but it was launched in 1991. soooo things are not adding up!!!!

they go in and investigate the giant old ship, and they encounter some bodies that have been, like, crystalized? super old and dead and crystalized. shoutout to the props team for that fr.

and scully looks both terrified and deeply intrigued. the medical curiosity has set in.

NOOOO! someone took their ship that they arrived there on!!! they are stuck on the boat full of very old dead crystal people!

there's a little montage here of scully and mulder trying to fix stuff and it was really really cute. yeah get your tools and go fix something man. get under there. it doesn't work out, but it wasn't for lack of trying.

the american guy who took them out is getting pissed they aren't telling him the Truth so he tries to explain the wormhole theory. and he isn't buying it and getting More pissed. this could have been easily avoided by Not Getting on the Boat.

NOOOO the other crew member that joined them had his skull cracked!!! are there any old people doing some skull smashing on this boat?!?

AUGH the boat is such a perfect setting for horror. the persistent Wetness. the quiet except for light dripping noises. the maze-like construction of the big old ship. confined spaces. it is simply not for meeeeee

oh okay. guy in the freezer sipping jack. he says time got lost. sure. it seems we have found our Skull Smasher.

the american guy whose ship was stolen is getting even MORE pissed and honestly i feel like he has the right to be. his friend is dead his ship is gone he is stranded on a boat of crystalized old people. truly L after L is being delivered. and as he goes to bury his friend at sea, even singing a little song for him, a dude comes and tries to crack HIS skull with a pipe??!? (so maybe old man sipping jack DIDN'T do the killing? i honestly don't remember sorry)

mulder stops pipe man from beating the americn ship captain... wow... so heroic <3 and american guy is like, oh i know this dude... he's a PIRATE WHALER... he sells whales on the BLACK MARKET.... i wish him to suffer immensely. remember when a fungus grew out of people a few episodes ago? yeah he deserves that. get eaten by bugs. you stay away from the whales you sick freak. but he is kinda hot and that is NOT be excusing him i just have eyes and can see. hot pirate whalers still get the cruelest of punishments in my book.

NOOOO the old man sipping jack has died. and is turning into salt. real sodom and gomorrah ass situation.

mulder declares that it is time to get rest, in an environment in which rest is impossible. and honestly, he is brave as hell for persisting and taking the first watch despite having dealt with seasickness, let alone being trapped on a boat full of old salty dead people and having just apprehended a pirate whaler. give him a raise, for he has suffered.

he takes his shift, and goes to wake scully up for the next one. and she mumbles about having just fallen asleep, to which he offers her a few more minutes

AUGHHH my heart. my heart my heart. this man is Suffering but he still offers to stand guard for a few more minutes. so she can sleep. oh i would have married him on the spot i'm sorry.

she insists that she is up and everything is adorable and sweet until.

WHAT!!! they are old!!!!

the image of these two in their Old Person makeup was making me laugh so hard, so i once again asked "who came up with this episode", but here's the tea: the pirate whaler guy isn't getting old!!! and, as scully points out, their hair isn't falling out or turning grey... strange.

she proposes that they are... drifting towards something... electrical... magnets... i'm sorry queen u lost me. too much science jargon. i'm sure it's a good theory i just have no understanding what it is you're saying.

oh. and blood is dripping from the ceiling. while the evil whale killer serves looks in the corner. fuck you, freak.

they go off to investigate the dripping blood (actually rust!) and they leave american ship captain to guard the pirate whaler. and oh man, he is gonna let him go, isn't he...

our agents are climbing into the sewage hold. bad place to me, imo. and ohhhh they think it is related to the water! non-sewage water = makes you old. cutscene to american ship captain, who has shot pirate men, lapping from the toilet like a dog.

mulder and ship captain man are fightinggggg... old man violence

scully demands everyone do a blood test, which had me asking: how did she test their blood on a ship? does she just keep that sort of equipment around? anyway, it shows waaaaay too much salt.

and NOOOO mulder is doing worse than the others because he has been dehydrated from seasickness :(

(again, i made note of the fact that they looked crazy and this was such a ridiculous plot for an episode)

he presents her with his urine for testing. that is true friendship.

the american ship guy says that mulder isn't gonna make it, and they should look out for themselves. okay good try you dumb bitch but they WILL die for each other.

cutscene to mulder lying in his cot, dying of old age. typical king activities. the water isn't working on him for some reason!!!

(who did this old person makeup... the girls are scared)

american ship guy is in the sewage area gulping all the water. "go ahead and shoot me if you think i'll let mulder have another drop" <-okay but she Will kill you. like you get that right.

(he escapes death by locking himself into the container)

this sends scully into a frantic search for any sort of liquid, and she's holding up a snow globe, and i have the realization, oh man, she's gonna drink the snow globe water, and they are gonna have to go to the hospital even more than before

"it's sardine juice, half a dozen lemons, and the water from a snow globe" <- new worst meal just dropped

(get her as a bartender NOW. i want to see what other fucked up concoctions she can create if given the resources)

he says that she should drink it, and tells her to stop being stubborn, she's more likely to live. and he WILL resign himself to death for her. which is A Lot. they are arguing about who gets to drink it and it's really sweet and sad and they look scary.

noOoOOOo there is a big THUNK and the jar falls on the ground and CRACKS. and now water is coming in!!! and the guy that locked himself in the sewage hold is gonna drown!!!

this is not promising for anyone else. at this point i was asking if they were gonna just lay down and die together, and if so, would it involve having a talk about their Feelings before death?

scully promises mulder that she learned there is nothing to fear after death when she began to drift off in her coma. oh my heart. talking about her Worst experience in the entire world so her friend can die in peace. knowing that it will be okay. ohhhh man, i need to unpack this at a later date.

so she closes his eyes and he drifts out of consciousness, and she's writing down detailed notes as she goes, but finally the pen slips from her hand and... they're gone

UNTIL!!! HELP ARRIVES LATER!!! and they bring them into the hospital to desalinate them. and they are able to be saved because scully kept impeccable records the whole time!

OH. and who is tending to them but the physician who kicked scully out of the other guy's room at the beginning of the episode!!!!

so the ship sank. and that was that. the end.

and where does that leave us?

well, honestly, i'm torn. because there were some very sweet moments in this episode- poor seasick mulder, fighting over who gets the potion, him letting her sleep a little longer, her sharing what happens after you die to give him a sense of calm- but it was also taking place while they were in scary old person makeup, so it had its ups and downs.

[the-fiction-witch]

The mademoiselle P3

Media The Artful Dodger

Character Jack Dawkins

Couple Jack X Reader

Rating Adorable!

Warnings: Amputation / 1800's surgery / ether/ body horror

I couldn't help but move an ottoman over to sit on, and I looked closely at the amputation, I had been done... terribly, even just from this look I could tell this must have caused her agony even before weight bearing, the skin overstretched and warped, the thread used to sew up the amputation had never been removed, skin partly healed around it, it wasn't even surgical thread it was twine! fraying and splintering as old twine does, 

"what on gods earth-" I muttered bringing a candle closer to better see what fucked up nonsense was happening here, "Who did this!"

"A clown."

"Yeah, I think he was,"

"No, he really...really was."

"He was a clown?"

"Yes."

"An actual... actual clown!"

"Yes."

"Uhhhh you mind telling me what happened?"

"It's a very long story. I was in an accident and he was the only person nearby with any form of training and here we are." She explained, 

"Okay, I take it it's causing you more pain than usual?"

"Yes doctor, I can barely walk let alone perform." 

"well that's certainly no good, I've heard of the magic of your performances. Wouldn't want to deprive anyone of that."

She blushed a little, "Well is there anything you can do doctor?"

"Uhh... I can give you some painkillers they should help your walking but If I may be so bold, I think it would be wise to have a doctor really look it over, when was the last time someone looked at it?"

"When it was done."

"Which was?"

"Twelve years ago." 

"Alright, tomorrow come up to the hospital and I'll take a real proper look see what's going on. you sure it hasn't had any other work in that time?"

"Mild stuff, cutting back skin, infection control and such."

"Right, and not once has anyone suggested ... further amputation?"

"A couple of times, but I need to dance so we always just did the minimum."

"Alright, come by tomorrow whenever you can," I told her as I gave her some medicine 

"I will, thank you, doctor."

"You're welcome mademoiselle," I told her as I took her hand and gave it a gentle kiss, "Have a nice evening."

"You too doctor Dawkins," she smiled, 

I took my bag and headed out filling in the paperwork as I went, as soon as I got back to my room I collapsed on my bed, I don't know why I felt so... conflicted, that I had looked at her pictures and desired her so much when... she must have been in agony to do it. I felt guilty about it, like It was my fault she was in pain. I took my box from under my bed and looked at the various postcards, I looked at her in these poses and situations and noticed how often they had her sitting down, how often the drawings stopped at her knees, or hidden by dresses, all of it to hide her away. I wanted to help her out I didn't want her to feel any more pain. 

I made sure to clean up as I knew the mademoiselle was coming in today, and soon enough Hetty came and told me I had someone here to see me. So I fixed myself up and headed into one of the small patient rooms, and saw the mademoiselle sitting on the bed with a nervous smile.

"Bonjour docteur Dawkins,"(Hello Doctor Dawkins)  She smiled,

"Bonjour mademoiselle," (Hello mademoiselle) I smiled back, "Quelle belle robe tu portes aujourd'hui," (What a beautiful dress you are wearing today) 

"merci beaucoup docteur" (Thank you very much doctor) she blushed, 

"Now, lets have a look." I told her, "if you could?"

"Alright," she sighed, sitting back on the bed and unlacing her boots letting them fall to the floor, I got my tools and had a much better look really investigating and it was worse than I suspected and I think she knew that too as the longer it went on the more grim her face got,

"You know what I'm going to say," I told her, 

"You think I need a further amputation?"

"I don't think I know." I sighed leaning on the metal bed, "I know this is a big decision with you, but if I don't do this, you are going to get worse... and you could die."

"I don't really have much of a choice do I?"

"I can't in good conscience let you go without at least letting me do an operation to pull back the skin and at least remove the twine."

"Alright, When can you do it?"

"I can get you into the surgery theatre today."

She nodded, 

"Alright, I'll make sure everything is sorted I'll get you in as soon as possible." 

I made sure to get the theatre prepped while she got some stuff delivered by her maid, And soon enough Hetty brought her in,

"Right, Up Here mademoiselle," I smiled helping her up onto the table, "Just relax I promise I'll take care of you."

"I do hope so." She nervously nodded lying on the table, 

"Okay," I nodded fetching the ether, "Just breathe gently for me, when you wake up this will all be over," I reassured her she nodded and did as I asked slowly drifting off until she was gone. "Okay... Let's do this." I told Hetty that I needed her as my nurse, I quickly got to work revealing the true situation and it was bad. The skin was stretched and infected in places, with dirt and grime under her skin, the bone had been left as a sharp splintering point as if broken by hand not cut in the amputation, 

"Oh my -" Hetty gasped,

"I know,"

"How'd it happen?"

"she wouldn't say, I don't imagine it was good," I answered, I did my best to save it but amputation was the only option so I did as low as I could just under her knee and made sure to sew it up in a way that made it look as good as I could, once I was done Hetty took her back to her room so I cleaned up and went on with my other work, After a good while I went to her room to go and check on her, seeing her sat up in the bed with a box in her lap, "Bonjour mademoiselle," 

"Hello Doctor," she said looking through her box,

"How do you feel?" I asked sitting beside her 

"Humm... Like I lost weight," she chuckled playfully glancing at her leg which made me chuckle a little, "It still hurts, which is odd. As it's not there."

"The phantom limb will fade."

"I know, I remember when they took my foot, it itched for days but it wasn't there." She said, "Thank you, doctor, most doctors I've seen just do what I ask... not what I need."

"You're very welcome." I smiled, "And uhh you can just call me Jack,"

"Alright, Jack." She smiled, "Y/n." 

"Y/n? That's a very beautiful name." 

"Thank you," She blushed, "I'm going to take a guess and say you know who I am?"

"I do. I uhhhh" I blushed, "I spent a lot of time in the navy growing up, your postcards... gave me a lot of peace then. And still do now."

she chuckled, "I'm glad I could be of such, Peace to you." She smiled gently taking my hand, I smiled and held her hand tightly, "I can't thank you enough Jack, though... I'm not sure what the future holds now."

"I wouldn't be so quick to be fearful, not much has really changed trust me... Most people won't even notice. You're far too beautiful for people to be looking at your feet."

She laughed, "I guess so. The postcards won't change that much."

"No, not really. But... I'll still look forward to seeing them. I'll pick up your next one just to show you so." I winked 

"Humm... I'll send you it special," She smiled squeezing my hand,

"How did it happen? if you don't mind my asking?"

She seemed sad but flicked through her box before she handed me a postcard with a beautiful young girl, a ballerina dancing on a stage. "I wasn't always a showgirl, That was me... Once."

"My god- You were beautiful."

"Where?"

"Are- sorry I-"

"It's alright, I spent my whole life wanting to be a dancer classically trained from three, My father worked every hour god sent just to get me into ballet school." She explained, "I was so happy when got a job at the royal opera as a ballerina."

"Impressive."

"They were talking about me like I was something special," She said, "my first tour and this one show we were out in the sticks, I went on and did my part but- the galley walkway above the stage collapsed, fell down to the stage below... By the grace of god, it fell where it did. A few inches to the left I'd be dead. But it crushed my foot" She explained, "I was losing blood so fast, my foot wrecked beyond repair. The nearest doctor ten miles away, the only person in the company who had any training... was one of the men playing a clown in the opera, He had some medical training but nothing near what was needed but- time was not on our side. So they did what they could and took my foot there and then on the stage." She explained, 

"How old were you?"

"Eighteen."

"What happened? Once it healed?"

"I healed while the rest of the tour went on and when we returned to the opera house... They tossed me away. Said I would never dance again. Wanted nothing to do with me. So I tried everywhere else but who wants a crippled dancer. The only place that would take me was a small club in pairs, they didn't want me to dance more just... take off my clothes. So I did. Learnt the violin, learnt how to perform in shows, named myself the mademoiselle, and... I suppose the rest is history." 

"For what is worth. I think you'd have made a beautiful ballerina."

"Thank you," she blushed, "But now... I'm not sure what to make of myself, I don't even know I can be a showgirl now."

"I'd pay to see you, still."

"You would?"

"Absolutely."

"even like this?"

"I would."

"That's very sweet of you." She smiled, "But if my boss doesn't feel the same... I don't know what I'd do, or where I'd go."

"Well... Port Victory is a little place, not much goes on here, it's full of those of us with nowhere else to go. You'd always be welcome here."  

"You think I would?"

"I'm sure you would," 

"What would I do?"

"Whatever you want, I'm sure a smart girl like you would find something." I smiled giving her back her ballerina picture, 

"I'm sure I'd find something, even if I just became some...business guy's wife."

"I think you could do a lot better than that"

"You do?"

"Yeah, I mean... I think you could end up a doctor's wife." 

"You really think so?"

"j'en suis sûr mademoiselle" (I'm sure of it mademoiselle) I smiled kissing her hand, "I'll leave you to rest." I smiled getting up to head back to work,

"Thank you, Jack."

"You're welcome Y/n." 

[nomorefstogive]

Path To Nowhere Headcanons: Langley

Good Evening ladies, gentlemen, and all things that lie between, and welcome to this newest display of our wanton insanity. While we work on updating our Genshin Impact story, A Guide To Mending Broken Wings, on Ao3, we have decided to have a bit of fun with something that is somewhat novel to us.

That being our attempts at headcanons, this one focusing on the SFW ones as we plan to make a second one to focus solely on the NSFW ones, without managing to make an entire damn fic out of each entry lol. In particular, we will be starting with our headcanons for the sinners of PTN, with all of that said, let us begin!

Ah! We will also be using a Female Chief when we mention the Chief in this fic, we hope this does not bother anyone, but yuri is a passion of ours and fem chief was practically born for being paired with all of the lovely and dangerous ladies of PTN. 

First up, we have the Silver Spider of Dis herself, head of the 9th Agency and wielder of a gun to make Alucard from Hellsing ultimate proud-

Langley: 

SFW Headcanons

1. Like Zealous-Box on Reddit, I believe she is actually a rather nice boss to work under, although I also see her having the mentality of 'These are my agents to bully and not yours' and as such will not tolerate any outside factors weighing down on them. Debt? She'll subtly pay off the one they owe. An issue with their kids' schooling? Welp, that school is under investigation now. And so on.

2. She has trust issues as a result of having been betrayed many times in the past. It's the reason she is so quick to put a 'Mark' on someone, so if they betray her she can put them down as soon as possible, however, it can also serve as a sign of trust to those who have proven themselves to her.

A way of saying 'I always have your back, so long as you don't double cross me,' as she could use the 'Mark' to find them if need be. Of the few people she trusts, the Chief is the newest to a very small circle and as such is under her watch.

3. The Chief is her 'Little Rookie,' and no one else's. She is their superior and she will not tolerate anyone else trying to poach someone who is hers from her.

If someone tries to give the Chief an order, she will tell the chief to ignore it, before she has a nice 'Talk' with the person who tried to order her rookie. Said talk may involve her cane and their skull becoming intimately familiar with one another.

4. She hates the Old Men who run Dis. She finds them to be both incompetent and Corrupt to the point she has many times fantasized about removing them and playing kingmaker to find suitable replacements for them, but the threat of Pharma and others keeps her from going through with said dreams, afterall it is better the Devil you know then the unknown ones. She is loyal to the city, not the suit-clad rats that run it.

5. She sleeps with her pistol under her pillow. She likewise has one on her nightstand, another strapped under the bed, and many more scattered all across her home. She even has her room at Minos, it is less a cell and more a room because the Chief has accepted they are largely running more of a rehabilitation center/halfway home/apartment complex at this point, outfitted with several guns of varying caliber hidden across it.

6. She treats her stay at Minos like a vacation from her superiors, and can often be found napping with her hat pulled down over her face and her cane over her lap, Lady Maria style, or doing any other number of things to help try and relax from all the stupidity she deals with daily.

7. She encountered Suspect R once, the event left her absolutely terrified of the woman to the point of suffering nightmares of the woman and her power for several months afterward, this being what led to her meeting Chameleon, who came to be her counselor.

To this day she is terrified of meeting the woman again, and fears that should that day come she may not be able to muster the courage to actually face her. What makes it all the more traumatic to her, is that R did not even try to fight her, she simply overwhelmed her by virtue of her sheer presence alone, and this has led to Langley fearing the idea of just what the woman is capable of if she actually tries to fight.

8. Like KhandiMahn on Reddit, I think that she does collect cute things, although I personally feel she collects things such as children story books and fairy tales and has a single stuffed animal that has been with her since childhood, where it was her only real friend, that she has kept well maintained all these years.

She cannot sleep well without her stuffed animal and would more than likely have a panic attack should it be destroyed. The Chief earns brownie points with her when they find it laying around in the washroom and patch it up before she finds them fixing it in their office, Langley almost begging them to give it back to her with the chief doing so and agreeing to not tell anyone else while Langley hold her old friend to her chest.

Needless to say, Langley threatens them to keep quiet despite what they have said and heads off to get some actual sleep, the chief smiling at their superiors' antics as she leaves.

9. She is not a morning person, at all. Her subordinates consider the idea of waking her up early to be the equivalent of walking into the Rust without a weapon and with a neon sign strapped to your chest saying 'Eat Me'. She is in fact barely coherent or aware until she has coffee in her, and is in particular quite fond of Summer's coffee, the one that keeps the Chief up for a whole day in the supervision incident, though it barely affects her.

10. She suffered a leg injury that makes her occasionally have issues with her balance while walking, hence her cane. She added all of the gizmos and gadgets it contains later on, and has recently had Summer update some of them. Among them being a taser-like function that packs as much punch as a cattle prod, an option to remove the handle, which is attached to a small pistol, and a needle filled with adrenaline with a separate one being filled with sedative.

11. She cannot stand spicy food and has a not so secret sweet tooth. In particular, she is quite fond of strawberry or blueberry flavored ice cream but also enjoys coffee flavored versions of the frozen treat as well. She has a separate freezer in her home that is filled with nothing but ice cream. Her subordinates know about it but are wise enough to not say anything because she frankly deserves it given all she has to deal with. 

12. She frequently has migraines and as such carries around a pair of ear plugs, a pair of sunglasses, and a bottle of aspirin, as strong as she can obtain it without going on the blackmarket, and has a special room in her home and cell that is outfitted with complete sound proofing and no windows. 

Her subordinates have come to recognize the signs of one beginning to form, and will work to get her out of whatever situation she is in and either back to her home or to somewhere she can ride out the oncoming pain till it passes. 

The Chief encounters her when one is forming and takes her to their office to rise out the pain with them pulling down blackout curtains and giving her a pillow to rest her head on as they go to leave, only for Langley to stop them and ask them to stay with her during it and until it passes. 

13. She is somewhat touch starved, but she has had bad experiences with physical contact from her childhood and from her struggles throughout her life, and as such is somewhat adverse to it. 

That said, once she feels she can trust someone implicitly, of which there are few, she will typically be the one to initiate contact, typically through light brushes against their shoulders or by threading their fingers together.

If she ever reaches the point of allowing for herself to embrace someone, or allow for them to embrace her, then it becomes readily apparent that she is quite clingy and will allow for just how touch starved she is to become apparent as she tries to maintain contact for as long as possible or initiate it whenever it is possible for her to do so.

It will be worse still if she has nothing to do, and she knows the one she is holding has nothing to do, in which case they had best be prepared for a lengthy stay.

14. She has something of a fascination with spiders, often pausing to admire their webs whenevers she gets the chance, or allowing them to scurry across her hand or nest in the corners of her home, she also has a terrarium filled with various breeds from harmless if annoying Jumping Spiders, to lethal Brown Recluse and Black Widow spiders. 

Curiously, even the most hostile breeds of arachnids seem to be somewhat docile in her presence and also seem to display something akin to obedience to the Silver Spider of Dis, perhaps owing to an unknown attribute of her Sinner Power or for other unknown reason. 

She is particularly proud of having managed to get her hands on, and subsequently raise, a Female Goliath Bird Eater that she has named Spook, it is unknown if the Spider is normal or not, as it has lived for almost 10 years past its life expectancy and has shown remarkable intelligence. 

All of that said, the chief most certainly did not appreciate it when Spook landed on her shoulder while visiting Langley, the ensuing scream could be heard well across the Bureau and most of Dis.

15. Her driving is…let us just say it is something that necessitates boeing both soundly buckled in for, and having made sure that your last will and testament is in order, as Langley tends to pay less attention to speed limits and traffic laws, than she does on getting where she needs to go fast.

There are many reasons her agents trip over themselves to drive her somewhere, and most of them are owed in part to the sheer amount of accidents she has caused over the course of her time behind the wheel. 

16. She has a somewhat odd relationship with Tetra and Bai Yi, as she has hired the 2 to do jobs for her, and by extension the 9th Agency, before and while she has had many complaints about Bai Yi’s antics in the past, she cannot help but admit that the 2 are among her most trusted independent contractors for when she needs something done outside of her own jurisdiction. 

She occasionally provides them aid by subtly having charges against them revoked, or by having them bailed out of sticky situations, though she always expects them to repay her in some way once she has done so. 

17. She has something of a rivalry with Eirene, the two often being found playing chess against one another and speaking, though few of those who have managed to find them during these games are able to understand just what it is they are speaking about. 

This rivalry also manifest as Eirene going out of her way to purchase assets the 9th Agency is interested in, be it structures and companies, or hiring individuals they were interested in recruiting and then using them as leverage to force LAngley to play further games with her both at the negotiating table and at the chess board. 

18. She has a fascination with Crache and has her eye on her as a potential recruit for the 9th, her ability to effectively control shadows and to appear out of nowhere having the potential to make for not only a lethal agent but perhaps also someone that, if taught correctly, could become a greater legend than even herself in the fields of espionage. 

For now though, she is content merely monitoring the girls growth and ensuring she continues to develop along the right paths, occasionally she will provide little tests and challenges for the girls ability as well as subtly raising the education level of her tests to see her strive to grow, but outside of that she is keeping her hands off of her for fear of a certain nurse catching wind of her interest.

She despises needles and someone with a gun that shoots them is as such quite a bother for her to deal with. 

19. She once attempted to deal with Nightingale’s work out of curiosity for just what the adjutant has to deal with on a daily basis, she promptly had a small mental breakdown after the first hour, crashed from an overdose of caffeine near the third, had another mental breakdown near the fourth, and upon seeing just how much was left gave up and fled to her cell.

She has since made it clear that no one is to speak ill of the Adjutant, be they Sinner or Agent from the 9th or otherwise, any person who can handle that much bullshit and not lose their minds deserves not only the highest of praise, but also whatever the hell else they want or need, whenever they want or need it. 

20. She has a personal stamp made in the image of a widow like spider with a hypercube on its thorax that she uses to stamp all of her documents with, she once attempted to add a webbing design to it…it did not work like she thought it would and resembled more solid circle of ink than anything else and so she tossed the web and went back to the simpler spider design.

21. Her main gun is called the “Silver widow”, she has several spares with similar names, from a sniper rifle called the “Black Widow”, to a shotgun called the “Brown Recluse”, she has likewise had each of the weapons inscribed with the design of the spider they are named after, her main gun bearing the only custom emblem out of the lot with it being her own spider symbol, a widow like spider with a hypercube in place of an hourglass on the thorax. 

22. She shares a feeling of fond exasperation for the Chief and her usual aids, Hella and Hecate, as while they do get results, their methods tend to be…rather unique and occasionally very entertaining to watch and or hear about, but she is also somewhat wary of the most unlikely of the two Sinners for her own reason. 

She sees the Chief as something of a protege, though it could also be argued she seems to have a borderline romantic interest in them, or perhaps it is the growing bond between them simply showing just how lonely she truly is behind the mask of the leader of the 9th.

Regardless she tends to go out of her way to keep an eye on the eccentric Chief of Minos, occasionally going out of her way to aid them from the shadows or protect them from the various elements of Dis that just seem incapable of grasping just under whose protection they are.

As for Hecate, she finds the quiet and artistic girl to be somewhat pleasant to be around, always silent unless she is spoken to or needs to speak and always sketching she is one of the very few to have encountered Langley while she was having a migraine and not earned a bullet between the eyes as she closed the curtains of the room they were in and gave her a pillow to put her head on. 

When she asked why she helped her, Hecate merely looked at her and tilted her head before saying; “You have been kind to the Chief, and the Chief says I should help people if they are in pain, and you looked like you were in pain. Is that not a good enough reason?”

Langley will deny to her dying breath that she gave the young woman a head pat after she said that, and Hecate herself will be strangely quiet on the subject, though there will be a faint glimmer in her eyes at the memory. 

Since then, she has had something of a soft spot for the young woman, typically it is one shown by making sure she is alright upon returning from a mission or by encouraging her to grow beyond her current state of being, typically by arranging tests for her or challenging her to chess, she can proudly say the young woman is showing progress in her growing education.

As for Hella, one would expect her to despise the feral gremlin of Syndicate, what with her foul tongue, disrespect for authorities, and penchant for causing trouble wherever she goes, but in truth she finds her to be quite entertaining as all it takes to cause a spectacle is to say the right words to wind her up and then point her at something as she watches the fireworks. 

She also harbors a grudging respect for the young girl, as at one point she found herself confronted by Hella in one of the many hallways of Minos, the Syndican casually leaning against a wall as Ninety-Nine leaned against the wall across from her.

She had been intrigued from the moment she saw the oddly calm and composed look in the little gremlin’s eyes as she pushed herself off the wall and walked towards her, stopping in front of her and looking up just enough to meet her eyes as she spoke up in an oddly calm voice.

What followed was something she did not expect, the little B-Rank Sinner meeting the eyes of the Spider of Paradiso, an S-Rank Sinner with a kill count in the hundreds if not thousands, and telling her that she didn’t trust her, nor did she like her authority over the Chief, but she would tolerate them.

But if she betrayed the Chief, if she betrayed them or hurt them in anyway…well Ninety-Nine’s fist striking the hypercube reinforced wall with enough force to cause cracks to spider web across the wall and dust to fall to the ground as she pulled her mutated hand out of the pit she had born through it with one strike finished her sentence. 

The display was met with her aiming her pistol at the younger Syndican fast enough neither could blink before the cold metal was aimed at her forehead, the taller Syndican snarling as her eyes began to burn crimson as her power began to surge, only for Hella to do something that caught them both off guard.

She laughed.

She looked Langley dead in the eye, and she laughed as she lifted up her hand and pulled the gun flush against her forehead, the cold steel meeting her skin in a frigid kiss as she unblinkingly met Langley’s gaze.

“Go ahead, pull the trigger you eight legged Eastside bitch. We both know you don’t have enough bullets or strength to keep me from coming back before you can put Ninety-Nine down, and how long do you think that fancy cane will keep us back huh? Think a taser and a few knives and a little pea shooter are going to stop us for more than what? A few minutes? An hour? Doesn’t fucking matter, eventually one of us will break it, then what? How long will you last with that bad leg of yours? I give you about 10 minutes before one of us breaks it again, and this time you won’t have anyone to save you. So go ahead cow, put one between my eyes, I. Fucking. Dare. You.”

As Hella spoke she had reached her hand up to grip Langley’s wrist and begin to rest her smaller, yet more heavily calloused hand, over hers and begin to push down on the trigger finger after she thumbed the hammer back, never once breaking her gaze as she and Langley kept meeting each others eyes. 

Langley could feel Ninety-Nine’s gaze on her as she moved closer to her sun’s side, her posture telling Langley that the moment she squeezed the trigger, she would be fighting the brute up close and personal and she doubted even a round from her gun would stop her.

And so, she pulled her gun back and gave an amused chuckle to the young woman and her hulking companion. 

She looked down into Hella’s eyes and offered her a simple nod of understanding as she holstered her gun and began to walk away, the pair letting her pass with their peace said, though she soon stopped to call over her shoulder to them.

“I’ve known some of the best FAC soldiers and Agents in my life, and none of them have even half the guts you do brat, I look forward to seeing how you’ll turn out, little girl from Syndicate.”

Since then she has kept a close eye on the little gremlin, all the while wondering just what is truly going on in the head of the little B-Rank that had the guts to stare her down like that, because now that she has seen a glimpse of what lays behind the facade of a brat, she can’t help but wonder just what kind of beast stands beside the Chief. 

23. She is bi-sexual, but prefers either females or feminine or effeminate looking males, she is also one to very much wear the pants in any relationship, though she will have her softer moments, especially after a long day of dealing with the bullshit she deals with and her leg beginning to ache on her.

All she will want after visiting her partner afterwards, is to have her leg massaged while she closes her eyes and gets some sleep as she dreams of the day when she finally snaps and sets her paperwork on fire. 

24. She can be quite protective of those she has grown close to, and even more so in regards to those she considers friends or potential partners. Expect the Spider’s web to be thoroughly wrapped around these individuals as she maintains near constant surveillance of them and those around them.

Any fool going after them will have not only the Spider herself after them, but all of the 9th gunning for them as well, because their boss has earned those few treasured individuals after all the shit she has been through and anyone that tries to take those that make her happy from her, had best start digging their grave, cause whatever gods they worship have washed their hands of them. 

And that is about all for the Headcanon we have for the silver Spider of Paradiso at the moment, we may come up with some more in the future but for now this is where we will be ending this little chapter of this mess. 

Till next time, take care and stay safe everyone.

[seetangus]

"My Princess" - Azula x reader

[masterlist]

Azula x gn reader, oneshot, no warnings

876 words, please let me know if there are any mistakes, have fun :)

"Why are we moving so slow? I could w a l k faster than this ship is driving." For the fifth time today, you assured Princess Azula that the ship was at maximum speed and it was one of the fastest ones in the entire fire navy. If it was someone else than her, you would have been annoyed a long time ago and told her to be quiet, but in this situation you were happy that she didn't unleash her discontent in a different way than complaining. You had never met her before, but you had heard stories about those who didn't live up to her expectations, and you did not want to experience those things yourself, to say the least.

Although you couldn't see her, as you were bowing when talking to her, you could feel her gaze rest upon you, when she began to talk again: "That 'discovery' I was sent to investigate better be worth my precious time." She sat down in the chair that was delivered from the palace solely so that she could sit comfortably on this ship.

While inspecting her nails she began talking again: "What was it again, that they have found?" You had also read the letter, so you knew what was waiting for you at the southern air temple: "They call it a balloon - a ship that can drive through the sky, my princess."

"Well, hopefully that balloon is faster than this slug.", she said, pointing approximately in the direction of the engines of the ship. "I am terribly sorry that you are dissatisfied with the speed of our ship, but I assure you that the crew is doing the best they can. Is there any way in which I could calm your indignation, my princess?" You at least wanted to try to calm her, as you didn't want her to get angry at the crew.

You had expected her to command you to threaten the workers responsible for the engines or to simply dismiss you, but she really seemed to consider your offer, as it took a while until she answered.

"You may stand now.", she said. You stood straight again. She looked at you for an unusual amount of time, making you nervous. You watched her eyes roaming all around your body until hers finally met yours, making you blush and look at the floor, hoping she hadn't noticed.

Finally, she answered, a smug smile creeping on her face: "Give me a massage."

You said nothing, as you weren't sure if you had understood her right. "Won't you come and massage the shoulders of your princess, y/n?" You had, in fact, understood her correctly, she had even said your name, so it was clear that she wanted you to give her a massage, but still you needed a moment to mentally process that request.

You had to answer quickly to not let Azula wait, so you answered with a simple "Of course, my princess." and walked behind her chair. Now the difficult part began, as you were not very experienced with giving massages. You hoped your modest skill was enough to satisfy her.

But before you could start, a small chuckle escaped her throat: "You may want to remove my armour before beginning, y/n."

Only now did you realise that giving her shoulders a massage while she still wore her shoulder plates would have been a difficult task, to say the least. You were embarrassed you hadn't noticed earlier. Taking her shoulder plates off was quite easy, as you knew how to handle armor, wearing some yourself.

After you had laid them down, you finally started massaging her shoulders. At the start you were rather careful, because you did not under any circumstance want to hurt those precious, royal shoulders of hers. But over time you got used to the shape of them, you almost didn't feel the fabric of her uniform that was dividing your hands from her skin anymore. Although it was exhausting, massaging her actually felt quite nice.

Also, you finally got to think for a bit, as there were a few things needing to be sorted in your mind. For example, why did she know your name? She was Azula, princess of the fire nation; remembering the names of her subjects was not worth her time or effort. Also, you hadn't even been introduced in the first place; to her you were simply an officer in her escort. But you were happy she knew your name; it felt special to hear it from her sublime lips.

"That will be enough for now.", she said, making you immediately remove your hands from her shoulders, "You will be free to go after you put my armour back on."

You attached her shoulder plates to her armour again, bowed, and were about to go away when she stopped you to ask you something: "Also, y/n, why do you call me 'my princess'?" You didn't know what to say. You had assumed that calling her by her title was the correct thing to do; you hadn't expected to break some formal code. She grinned at your sudden consternation.

"Don't stop doing it, y/n, I like it. You may go now."

[seaspriteclan]

Welcome to Seaspriteclan!! Directory: First Post Cast References More to be added!! Tags: #ssclan - just the general tag for seaspriteclan #ssclan refs - reference sheet(s) for the clan members #ssclan comic - when i make comic pages for the main story, has all the big lore in it #ssclan writing - when smaller things happen that i don't find necessary to draw but i still want to tell everyone I will be properly tagging tw's such as blood!! More to be added!! fun fact: i named the clan tinyclan and put them in a cave before i came up with the lore so if i post screenshots just imagine its on the shipwreck place

LORE TIME:

not the best writer ever, so bear with me if something is written weirdly :D A pirate ship crashes onto land and the only survivors are the cats. Lucky for them, their whole job was to catch rats! It'll be easy to live on the coast, right? Lime was the captain of the rat hunters, he would teach younger cats how to keep the Sea Sprite's ship safe from diseases that the rats may carry. After the ship crashed, he went on a search for the rest of the crew after having blacked out for an unknown amount of time. The first cat he found was Gentle, who was standing over 2 kits, Rose and Stem. Lime told Gentle about the two-leg crew not surviving the crash. While discussing, they heard a distant meow for help and they ran to investigate. They found Cherry standing next to the unconscious body of Frond lying under a pile of rubble. Lime carefully removed the pieces of wood so Gentle could look at the wounds. Gentle was skilled in caring for injured cats as she lived in a city full of street fighting cats before being taken in by the Sea Sprite crew. She quickly tended to the wounds and helped Frond get out of the ruined ship. All of the cats travelled out and found a safe place to rest. As they were waiting for Frond to wake up, Rose spotted movement from underneath large rocks that formed a small opening next to the ship. Lime went to investigate and found Pale who was adapting to the new "eviromet" (environment) to survive. The kit was picked up by the scruff and brought to the resting area. Lime stepped up and spoke of stories he had heard of cats from long ago who made "clans" and survived in the wild. He also declared himself the leader right off the bat, which Rose wasn't the biggest fan of because he wanted to be the leader. Everyone agreed to create a clan to stick together and survive. Lime convinced them to change their names just like the stories he had heard. Limestar, Gentleheart, Cherrypaw, Frondpaw, Stemkit, Rosekit, and Palekit now have a perfect area for their brand new clan. They used the ship's debris to their advantage and trying to stay clear of the sea's harsh waves. They took their old crew's name to remember what they once were. Seaspriteclan was going to be the best clan on the coast as far as they knew.

[mo-nee-ta]

Eva Heinemann and Lolita's Rita

Before Dolores, there was Valeria. And after Dolores, there was Rita (Rita? Lolita! Again, HH is a sly beast.)

And who’s exactly Rita? She has only one chapter (like Valeria), but this is enough to get a picture of her.

She was twice Lolita’s age and three quarters of Humbert’s, she’s an obvious placeholder for Lolita. 

She has a drinking problem: 

I picked her up one depraved May evening somewhere between Montreal and New York, or more narrowly, between Toylestown and Blake, at a darkishly burning bar under the sign of the Tigermoth, where she was amiably drunk.

There is no earthly reason why I should dally with her in

the margin of this sinister memoir, but let me say (hi, Rita — wherever you are, drunk

or hangoverish, Rita, hi!) that she was the most soothing, the most comprehending companion that I ever had,

She’s divorced three times and has a rather turbulent love life:

When I first met her she had but recently divorced her third husband—and a little more recently had been abandoned by her seventh cavalier servant—the others, the mutables, were too numerous and mobile to tabulate.

She's circling back again and again to the place she’s actively trying to avoid, Grainball City (where her brother is the mayor):

She told me, with wails of wonder, that for some God-damn reason every new boy friend of hers would first of all take her Grainballward: it was a fatal attraction; and before she knew what was what, she would find herself sucked into the lunar orbit of the town, and would be following the floodlit drive that encircled it—"going round and round,” as she phrased it, “like a Goddamn mulberry moth”

Unstable mood and behaviors:

Then one day she proposed playing Russian roulette with my sacred automatic; I said you couldn’t, it was not a revolver, and we struggled for it, until at last it went off,touching off a very thin and very comical spurt of hot water from the hole it made in the wall of the cabin room; I remember her shrieks of laughter.

I lodged there (...) while Rita whom I preferred not to display vegetated—somewhat indecorously, I am afraid—in a roadside inn where I visited her twice a week.

In the silent painted part where I walked her and aired her a little, she sobbed and said I would soon, soon leave her as everybody had (...) and started to cry again (...) we drove on to New York, and soon she was reasonably happy again high up in the haze on the little terrace of our flat.

She’s trying to help Humbert find Lo and Quilty which gets her into trouble:

I told her I was trying to trace a girl and plug that girl’s bully. Rita solemnly approved of the plan — and in the course of some investigation she undertook on her own (without really knowing a thing), around San Humbertino, got entangled with a pretty awful crook herself; I had the devil of a time retrieving her—used and bruised but still cocky.

She’s put in jail (for stealing another woman’s clothes):

Then she vanished—more humanly than her predecessor had done: a month later I found her in the local jail.

She was très digne, had had her appendix removed, and managed to convince me that the beautiful bluish furs she had been accused of stealing from a Mrs. Roland MacCrum had really been a spontaneous, if somewhat alcoholic, gift from Roland himself. 

She has no permanent place of residence, wandering from place to place.

Now let’s have a look at Eva Heinemann.

Obvious drinking problems:

Divorced three times, turbulent love life, also abandoned by a cavalier servant (or rather: she let him abandon her):

She's circling back again and again to the place she’s actively trying to avoid, Düsseldorf (where her father was a hospital director):

Unstable mood and behaviors:

She’s trying to find Johan on her own which gets her into trouble (and is still cocky afterwards, like Rita):

She’s put in jail (for public drunkenness):

She has no permanent place of residence, wandering from place to place.

And while she isn’t a placeholder for anyone, she tries to turn the gardener and Martin into Tenma substitutes (which basically means Tenma’s her own personal Lolita, let me howl with laughter for a minute here, because this fits perfectly the obsession with an idea of someone that is so crucial in both Lolita and Monster. Also! In chapter 25 of part I of the novel, HH buys clothes that would turn the tomboy Lo into his fantasy girl Lolita). 

And let me add here one thing: Rita is very often overlooked in discussions about the book, which makes all these similarities even more fascinating. Hi, Rita, hi! We can see you.

[quietlywatchingwritingreading]

So it's been awhile since I posted about anything, and I figured I may as well post some thoughts I have about the Beast Cookies.  For the sake of length and potential spoilers, i’ll put this under a readmore. 

This is a very long post.

As a general, I love the fact that each of their evil counterparts basically reflects their greatest weakness/the thing that’s caused them the most trouble. 

Pure Vanilla not telling his friends what happened, being a lie that only hurt them when they learned he kept such a secret. Dark Cacao was apathetic when he wasn’t investigating information/verifying it, leading to the attempted usurp and countless cookies in his kingdom suffering. Even then, it was not something that lasted for very long, and perhaps his apathy was in not reacting to something he knew was wrong. He clearly knew something was up when Affogato tried to get Caramel Arrow Banished,  but he still allowed it to happen. For Golden cheese, the destruction of her kingdom, and coming to terms with that, is her greatest concern. White Lily not telling anyone anything, is what would lead to all of these events. 

Now sloth, sloth’s an interesting one. One I thought worthy of its own paragraph. Sloth is often depicted as laziness, but another interpretation is about the Status Quo. Hollyberry giving up the throne, taking on a second life, and trying to live her life as an adventurer as she had done in her past is far from lazy. Yet, in that lens, that entire thing could be viewed as sloth, as she was trying to maintain/return to a certain status quo. 

Shadow Milk Cookie is a pretty interesting counterpart to Pure Vanilla Cookie. I love the vibes of a Jester to their king, especially with the often repeated story that a Jester was often the only person who could actually tell the truth to the king. I’m not entirely sure what ‘Shadow Milk’ is. I imagine it's supposed to be a mythical/mystical ingredient. Milk that came from a shadow of some sort. 

On complete baseless speculation: Cereal milk is something of a fad in the coffee world. Instead of using regular milk for lattes, people soak milk in strongly flavored cereals, and then use that flavored milk. It makes me wonder if Shadow Milk Cookie’s actually milk infused with a Shadow Brand cereal. 

As an ingredient, Milk is one that is often masked/flavored. It’s often also seen as ‘childish’, in the sense that it's something frequently given to children. So I really like how they represented that with the character. They’re certainly important/visible, but they aren’t 100% trustworthy. Yet they aren’t always lying, and their lies do provide information. It makes them rather interesting, and makes me want to learn more about them. I also like how Pure Vanilla couldn’t really do anything about his counterpart , making me feel this is one of those situations where the characters can’t fight their counterparts, but their friends could. 

Mystic Flour Cookie is also a really interesting character, but I honestly think she might have made a good counterpart to Golden Cheese Cookie. With both characters having some interesting ties/feelings related to death and the afterlife. Where both characters seem to be trying to give cookies a peaceful afterlife. Golden Cheese by giving those cookies what they desire, and Mystic Flour by removing desire/feelings entirely, leaving only a false peace. 

Like I speculated earlier, that might even be intentional. A situation where Dark Cacao really can’t do anything against her directly, but one of his friends could directly counter it. 

In real life, flour is an ingredient that frequently causes illness. Most people in America think of the Egg as a disease causing ingredient, but flour is equally as dangerous. So I really like seeing that referenced. 

Pure Speculation time:

Eternal Sugar Cookie is really hard to pin down for what her roll or trial might be against Hollyberry. The term of Sloth, and the fact that sugar is extremely important to the fermentation process. That makes me wonder if it would be related to Hollyberry’s alcoholism, and the general attitudes of personal comfort/luxury over assisting/helping others. Or, as I theorized earlier, something related to cookies clinging to the past, instead of moving on.

I believe they’ve touched on that topic a few times, but I think it might be nice if it was explored more intently. 

Burning Spice Cookie is also a little hard to pin down. That said, it's really hard not to notice how similar his story is to Capsaicin Cookie’s fears. Making me wonder if Capsaicin was baked with the intention to serve this cookie. Or with a nickname like the Spice Overlord, to become them. That could make a good fanfic. 

Most likely though, the counterpoint is because Cheese is easily melted, and destruction is heavily tied to Golden Cheese’s fears. I also quite like the builder/destroyer vibes the two sort of have together. The pure virtue was ‘creation’, and Golden Cheese created an entire virtual world in order to tend to her people. Just, the idea that one would have to destroy something in order to create something else, is just one of those themes I kind of personally like. It makes me interested to see how things work. 

Silent Salt is extremely hard to pin down, especially because White Lily is kinda complex for a character. She already has an evil counterpart in Dark Enchantress.  White Lily did live in a place whose people were completely hidden, and her silence about her plans is what ultimately led to everything happening. Salt is also supposed to be extremely dangerous to plants, with phrases like ‘Salting the earth’ meaning to destroy an area so nothing could grow/people could not thrive there.

[cleolinda]

Varney the Vampire: Chapter 12

Chapter 11: Oh boy, Gothic ableism feat. implied racism; Charles Holland has Plans

Chapter XII.

CHARLES HOLLAND'S SAD FEELINGS. -- THE PORTRAIT. -- THE OCCURRENCE OF THE NIGHT AT THE HALL.

This chapter is fully twice as long as the previous one, so you can imagine how I felt when I got a couple thousand words in and it just! kept! going! It's 4900+ words, y'all. Colin Robinson feasts tonight. As such, it's helpful to me to break it up into sections—like movements in a symphony, really, except that all four movements are inhumanly long renditions of "Free Bird."

I. PREVIOUSLY ON: Charles Holland still feels a way about it (530+ words)

As noted in the previous chapter, it would have been one thing if Flora had been a strumpet, or if Charles Holland (who I literally cannot just call "Charles," that's just how it is) had fallen out of love with her, but Flora transparently trying to break up with him For His Own Good gives him a sad. The reason she wants to break up is also pretty alarming:

Fortune he had enough for both; death had not even threatened to rob him of the prize of such a noble and faithful heart which he had won. But a horrible superstition had arisen, which seemed to place at once an impassable abyss between them, and to say to him, in a voice of thundering denunciation, -- "Charles Holland, will you have a vampyre for your bride?" The thought was terrific.

Oh, the thought is fantastic. "Will you have a vampyre for your bride" is PEAK goth; in my opinion it's 100% relationship g—oh. You mean it's terror-ific. I mean... if you have no sense of adventure, I guess.

II. Charles Holland looks at a painting (670+ words)

Charles Holland is settling down in Flora's room to wait for a motherfucker to try it. We're looking at the painting of Sir Ancestor von Spookyportrait, who is wearing a 1700s coat that matches the handful of cloth pulled off Varney. You see where we're going with this.

The picture, as a picture, was well done, whether it was a correct likeness or not of the party whom it represented. It was one of those kind of portraits that seem so lifelike, that, as you look at them, they seem to return your gaze fully, and even to follow you with their eyes from place to place.

Spooky trompe l'oeil (OR IS IT?). Impeccable vibes.

For a considerable number of words, Charles Holland remains staring at this painting:

"I shall now," he said, "know that face again, let me see it where I may, or under what circumstances I may. Each feature is now indelibly fixed upon my memory -- I can never mistake it."

This will obviously become a plot point.

III. Charles Holland tries to move a painting (840+ words)

After the panel containing the picture had been placed where it was, it appeared that pieces of moulding had been inserted all around, which had had the effect of keeping it in its place, and it was a fracture of one of these pieces which had first called Charles Holland's attention to the probability of the picture having been removed. That he should have to get two, at least, of the pieces of moulding away, before he could hope to remove the picture, was to him quite apparent, and he was considering how he should accomplish such a result, when he was suddenly startled by a knock at his chamber door.

POINTS:

holy shit the probability of the molding I don't give a fuck

Suddenly there came a tapping, as of someone gently rapping, at Charles Holland's chamber door: Poe's "The Raven" was published in the U.S. the same year, 1845, that Varney the Vampire began serialization. I'm not saying there's a connection, I just think that's fun.

Random knockings in dark halls also made me think of my favorite TV genre: paranormal investigation.

Now, while I'm primarily a Ghost Files/Buzzfeed Unsolved fan because having an actual skeptic completely changes the usual Ghost Show vibe, I also enjoy a ton of shows on Discovery Plus that involve investigators getting spooked and flipping the fuck out. (Honestly, the real appeal of any of these shows is the personalities involved; it's not like I actually need to see eight different takes on Waverly Hills Sanatorium.) One of my favorites is the recently-canceled, soon-to-be-revived Destination Fear, where a group of friends ride around in an RV and torment each other in dark abandoned buildings that may or may not be riddled with squatters. Sometimes there is a stray cat. I suspect a lot of it was faked, and I honestly don't even care. They are constantly hearing random slams and knocks and voices, maybe, and shrieking in panic when a camera falls over, and I love it. What I'm telling you is, I am basically imagining Charles Holland as one of the Destination Fear kids in their solo sleeping arrangements, trying to decide if he wants to go barreling after this ghost or not. This is an experiment in fear and he can't call Dakota on the walkie and say he wants to peace out because he can't let this location get the best of him!!:

"I will remain the occupant of this room come what may, happen what may. No terrors, real or unsubstantial, shall drive me from it: I will brave them all, and remain here to brave them."

The thing is, it's "an odd sort of tap -- a single tap, as if some one demanded admittance, and wished to awaken his attention with the least possible chance of disturbing any one else." This happens, like, four times, and Charles Holland keeps flinging the door open and no one is there. I have no idea who this is supposed to be—it can't be Varney, because he has enough corporeal substance to be unable to haul himself over a garden wall, and therefore he can't vanish instantly. If it's a ghost who can vanish, we've never heard of them, and I don't recall that we do later. I am forced to conclude that it is one of James Malcolm Rymer's creditors asking if he's gotten his pay by the line yet.

IV. Charles Holland and Henry look at a painting (1020+ words)

At last, Henry emerges from his own bedroom at the sound of Charles Holland repeatedly demanding who the fuck happens to be tapping, rapping at his chamber door, and now Charles Holland is vexed that he looks like a coward who couldn't handle it. In contrast, the Destination Fear kids are always walkie-ing each other to GET OVER HERE RIGHT NOW,  A FALLING BRICK DID ME A SCARE!!! and then pelting through the ruins of some heinous crumbling hospital past a Tall Dark Mass named Red (it's always named Red) and maybe a couple of crawlers (there's always a crawler) to save each other from nothing in particular. I've watched the entire series like five times. I would pay good money for an adaptation of Varney where Charles Holland and the Bannerworth brothers are panicking at each other from the various mansion bedrooms over, like, tin cans tied together with string. 

Anyway, Henry and Charles Holland look at the painting of Ancestor von Spookyportrait and try to pry it off the wall. It's painted on a panel rather than a hanging canvas. Someone has recently pried it off and put it back! It's eminently priable! They cannot do it, for they do not have any tools to do so, except then they have a knife out of nowhere that they can use, because you keep knives in bedrooms the way you do crowbars and swords, and they finally get the portrait off the wall.

There is nothing behind the portrait.

"There is no mystery here," said Henry. "None whatever," said Charles, as he tapped the wall with his knuckles, and found all hard and sound. "We are foiled." "We are indeed."

V. Someone shoots a vampyre, again, maybe (790 words)

Even as he spoke they were both startled by a strange clattering noise at the window, which was accompanied by a shrill, odd kind of shriek, which sounded fearful and preternatural on the night air. "What is that?" said Charles. "God only knows," said Henry.

I didn't have a whole lot of sympathy for Henry back when he was moping around the family crypt, but I'm starting to get on board now. What WAS that? God only knows for 800 words of it, Henry. God only knows.

The two young men naturally turned their earnest gaze in the direction of the window, which we have before remarked was one unprovided with shutters, and there, to their intense surprise, they saw, slowly rising up from the lower part of it, what appeared to be a human form. Henry would have dashed forward, but Charles restrained him, and drawing quickly from its case a large holster pistol

What? Do we also keep pistols in bedrooms? Flora's bedroom? Did Charles Holland just know to bring his trusty Large Holster Pistol with him from Somewhere in Europe? Do we keep them in cases or holsters? What?

He pulled the trigger -- a loud report followed -- the room was filled with smoke, and then all was still.

Like, this is great. Cinematic before there was cinema. And then Rymer has to dither around with hundreds of words about how the smoke blew out the only candle they had (I hope to fuck y'all have matches), and the window latch is too fancy for Charles Holland to fathom and he needs Henry to unfasten the fastening because the fancy fastening is known only to Henry, and then Rymer goes into the perfect bullet hole in the glass that did not cause any cracking or "starring," and I had to go take two Advil and lie down. Like. I can't. I cannot when Rymer does this. I mean, I comprehend perfectly what's happening. I just. I Just. So what are we, 3000 words into this chapter about staring at paintings? SUDDENLY AN ACTION SCENE BREAKS OUT. Henry's brother George and their mother's—somebody—Mr. Marchdale rush in! Henry flings the fascinating fastened window open! Henry and Charles Holland and Marchdale (eventually) leap down to the garden in "a wonderfully short space of time"! Indubitably, here is the terrestrial location where the vampyre must have gotten his sad ass shot, again—

But nothing is there. No blood. No vampyre. No "revivified corpse" that Charles Holland was so sure they'd be able to net, and that was the foundation of his optimism. Woe:

"Human means against such an appearance as we saw to-night," said Charles, "are evidently useless."

VI. You must leave Spookyportrait Manor (200+ words)

A brief movement in the symphony, but an important aspect:

"My dear young friend," said Marchdale, with much emotion, as he grasped Henry Bannerworth's hand, and the tears stood in his eyes as he did so, -- "my dear young friend, these constant alarms will kill you. They will drive you, and all whose happiness you hold dear, distracted. You must control these dreadful feelings, and there is but one chance that I can see of getting the better of these." "What is that?" "By leaving this place for ever."

We've seen in previous chapters how Henry just cannot cope with any vampire-themed revelations, and maybe I'm too hard on him for that—mostly it's because I always see him in contrast to Flora, the actual victimized person, who has wailed a good bit less about it. But I've always liked that literary Victorian masculinity seems to leave more room for tears and expressing distress (many of you are familiar with this from Dracula, I'm sure, and that's one of my favorite things about it), so maybe I should take that into consideration. However you see it, the serial has definitely established that Henry is very emotional about the Whole Vampyre Thing. But why Marchdale breaks in now, while Henry is merely "silent" and "lost in wonder" with Charles Holland, I don't know. Should we consider this sus? Unsure.

What's important about this to me, however, is that Henry does bring up that he doesn't want to be Driven from the Home of His Ancestors—but also, that they can't afford to flee the mansion and, by necessity, sell off the property cheap to pay their creditors and have anything to live on somewhere else. How many times have you yelled at someone in a horror movie to just LEAVE! WHY DON'T YOU LEAVE THE HOUSE?!? Well: money.

VII. As regards Flora (870+ words)

"As regards poor dear Flora," said Mr. Marchdale, "I know not what to say, or what to think; she has been attacked by a vampyre, and after this mortal life shall have ended, it is dreadful to think there may be a possibility that she, with all her beauty, all her excellence and purity of mind, and all those virtues and qualities which should make her the beloved of all, and which do, indeed, attach all hearts towards her, should become one of that dreadful tribe of beings who cling to existence by feeding, in the most dreadful manner, upon the life blood of others -- oh, it is dreadful to contemplate! Too horrible -- too horrible!"

Quick recap: in the previous chapter, we discussed 1) the weirdness of this serial conflating a contagion with a "race" or "tribe" of beings; 2) the way Victorians often associated mental illness with both violence and [racist bullshit here], and 3) the way that they also cast all of these things as a "family stain" that must not be passed to your children, and yet, 4) Flora is also visually coded as being white, fair, "pure," and immune to any stain. Marchdale's blathering touches on the contagion idea without confusing it with heredity, at least. But Victorian ideals of beauty were tied up in whiteness (source: there are so many), so that historical subtext is present. Also, the word tribe: not a great usage right here!

That said, I also have a long-suppressed rant about the way people don't get that Lucy Westenra needs to be played as sweet and pure and lovingly innocent (I think wanting three husbands is very sweet! Desire isn’t impure! Wait why are Victorians throwing me in an asylum), in order to underline the real horror of the woman we knew, corrupted into an unrecognizable predator. And that's the excellence and virtue and purity of mind that make Flora the beloved of all—which sounds very Lucy to me—that Marchdale is talking about. Ultimately, if you put that paragraph under the microscope, you can isolate what you need to discard and what you could keep, and the sweetness of character is something that works.

Meanwhile, I have the temerity to claim that James Malcolm Rymer is long-winded. Go off, Charles Holland:

"Then wherefore speak of it?" said Charles, with some asperity

We're back to the thing Rymer mentioned umpteen thousand words ago: how Marchdale and Charles Holland hated each other on sight, for (allegedly) no reason. Charles Holland does not appreciate your bullshit, Marchdale, and he "will not give into such a horrible doctrine!" Marchdale tries to backpedal with a reply I had to read five times to parse, but I think he is saying that if anything could make this whole Vampyred Flora situation worse, it's that Charles Holland is such a stand-up dude and it's a shame the young couple can never marry now. BET? says Charles Holland. "May Heaven forbid it!" ripostes Marchdale, who just. cannot. quit:

"Oh, fancy, then, for a moment, the mother of your babes coming at the still hour of midnight to drain from their veins the very life blood she gave to them. To drive you and them mad with the expected horror of such visitations -- to make your nights hideous -- your days but so many hours of melancholy retrospection. Oh, you know not the world of terror, on the awful brink of which you stand, when you talk of making Flora Bannerworth a wife."

Aaaaand here we are back at the Do Not Propagate the Family Stain discourse. I told you.

That said! It is a Vampire Literature Trope that the vampire preys on the people who were closest to them in life, particularly a betrothed, from Lenore and The Bride of Corinth forwards. As noted on that very handy Wikipedia page, Byron's The Giaour (1813) specifically says that first, the vampire will first "ghostly haunt [its] native place, / And suck the blood of all [its] race"—daughter, sister, and wife included. I can't say what Rymer did or didn't read, but if he had Byron in mind, the idea is twisted so that the wife/mother, the Victorian "angel of the home," is the predator: extra unnatural.

Meanwhile, Henry is trying to get Marchdale to stop, but Marchdale just! will! not! Charles Holland will hear no more of this!! "Fine, I'm done," says Marchdale. "YOU COULD HAVE JUST NOT," says Charles Holland. "It was my SOLEMN DUTY," bloviates Marchdale. Charles Holland uses sarcasm!! It's so wordy effective that Marchdale abruptly threatens to flounce:

"To-morrow, I leave this house," said Marchdale. "Leave us?" exclaimed Henry. "Ay, for ever."

So now Henry has to coddle this asshole's disingenuously hurt feelings—I really wanted to like Marchdale, but come on, y'all, this guy is every mother-in-law on AITA. "I was just trying to help, I guess you hate me!!" Have you seen the Reddit essay about "boat-rockers" and their enablers? Basically, Henry has to get Charles Holland to steady the boat with him, even though the latter just got here and has no desire to cater to whichever random, non-Flora family member. Charles Holland does manage to say that if saying he's sorry Marchdale got his feelings hurt is an apology, then he'll say that he's sorry Marchdale got his feelings hurt (it's not). BUT KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT FROM NOW ON, YOU DON'T EVEN GO HERE:

"I will not allow this monstrous superstition to tread me down, like the tread of a giant on a broken reed. I will contend against it while I have life to do so." [...] "Come weal or woe -- come what may, I am the affianced husband of [Henry's] sister, and she, and she only, can break asunder the tie that binds me to her."

Which Flora already did two chapters ago, like, five times, but in a very "I clearly don't want to say this but we can't just talk to each other like normal people or there wouldn't be a plot" way, so I'll allow it. *gavel*

Varney the Vampire masterpost

[heaven-s-black-box]

Secret Admirer- RanPoe

Return to File

Recovery date: February 19th, 2022

Description: A box of chocolates show up on Ranpo's desk on Valentine's day.

Notes: N/a

Word count: 992

Back to directory

There's a box of expensive chocolates and some nice tea on the president's desk, and a box of semi expensive Whiskey chocolate of Dazai's, he doesn't have to open the agency's door to know that; he is the greatest detective after all.

He shifted his grip on the bag of chocolates he brought- a small pack for each of the ADA members because he's so amazing and generous and definitely not because the bulk pack had 20 boxes and he could eat the extras- and opened the door. Just like he thought, the president's door was propped open and there was a red box with a black ribbon sitting on Dazai’s desk. What he hadn’t expected was the decent sized heart box on his desk with a gold bow and a little note sticking up.

Cautiously he approached his desk, crouched and on his tiptoes incase of a trap, and looked at it for a long moment. There was nothing out of the ordinary, it was an expensive box he'd seen in a shop window earlier that week while out with Poe. He remembers gawking at the price for just an empty box. The note had been typed, a clever trick to stop him from analyzing the hand writing, and read "Enjoy this Valentines Mystery, Detective" in a swirly font.

He stared at it for a long moment before setting his bag down and sitting at his desk, hands folded under his chin, still staring at the box. And that was how the president found him.

"Ranpo," he greeted, crossing to his office door.

"Morning."

Ranpo's voice was muffled by his hands and he didn't look up, strange, but Fukuzawa continued into his office.

---

"Hm, I don’t recognize the brand,” Ranpo grumbled around a mouthful of heart shaped chocolate.

He’d since left his pensive trance and begun a more thorough investigation; carefully opening the box and noting the lack of adhesive, he was incredibly careful when removing the satin bow, and everyone was stunned at the care with which he was handling the entire thing. The rest of the agency watched from their desks in silent amusement, after all, it was obvious to them who the sender was.

"Maybe it's homemade?" Atsushi offered, popping a small chocolate into his mouth. Yosano had handed out Ranpo’s gifts upon finding him otherwise occupied.

Ranpo's eyes widened slightly.

"I-" he sputtered for a moment before clearing his throat, "Of course! I am the greatest detective after all, it makes sense I’d have a secret admi-"

"Ranpo-kun!"

The door opened and Poe walked in, a bright smile on his face and a slight skip in his step; an unusual sight. Karl sat comfortably on his head, chirping a quick greeting before jumping onto Kyouka's desk for scratches.

"Oh look, it's-" Yosano smacked Dazai upside the head before he could finish.

"Dazai-san, come help me with inventory."

"But-"

"Now," she said through gritted teeth, dragging him into the hall.

“Naomi, let’s go get lunch! Atsushi, Kenji, Kyouka, want to join us?”

There was a course of agreements before Atsushi slipped past Poe and the group left, closing the door behind them.

“Poe-kun! Excellent timing, I have a mystery to solve!”

“And you need my help?”

“Nonsense, the world’s greatest detective doesn’t need help finding his secret admirer.”

Poe’s face flushed red, not that Ranpo noticed, and Kunikida bit his tongue. Then the door to the president's office opened.

“Kunikida, may we speak with you for a moment?”

“Yes!” Kunikida said, a little too quickly, and practically ran into the president's office.

“Then what do you need me for?”

“This box is expensive.”

The writer looked down at the red, heart shaped box and nodded.

“Yes, I do remember you saying that when we saw it the other day.”

“And this chocolate is homemade.”

Another nod of agreement.

“Poe-kun, can I see your hands?” Ranpo’s voice was soft, and he opened his eyes while trying to catch a glimpse of Poe’s through his bangs.

He was stunned for a moment, Ranpo’s soft tone and gentle request so different from his usual upfront and abrasive attitude, but he smiled and extended his hands. Two bandaids were wrapped around different fingers; one on each hand.

“Damn.”

“D-Damn?” Poe’s smile dropped as Ranpo leaned back in his chair and kicked his feet up on his desk.

They missed the president’s door opening slightly and the glare Kunikida and Haruno sent to the childish detective.

“Damn, now I have to get you something for white day.”

“Uh… is- is that- what’s white day?”

“When you get something for valentine’s day you’re supposed to return the favor on white day… hm, I guess I could get you-” Ranpo’s phone dinged and he flipped it open. “Oh,” he looked up at Poe, dropping his feet and leaning across the desk, “I like you too.”

A tear slipped down Poe’s cheek and he sniffed while Ranpo whipped it away.

“Huh?”

“Yosano-sensei pointed out I left you hanging,” he shook his phone and Poe could barely make out the frantic scolding text, “I thought it was obvious that i wouldn’t get you anything for white day if I didn’t like you.”

“But,” Poe sniffed again, wiping his eyes, “you said it’s just a custom to return the favor.”

“Ya but why would I waste my time finding you a gift if I didn’t like you,” Ranpo pouted, sitting back down in his chair. “If you really want though we can do dinner tonight, you’re paying though.”

Poe chuckled. “Alright, I might be able to get a reservation still if…” the former guild member trailed off into muttered planning.

“Great, i’ll see you at 7!” Ranpo cut in, startling Poe, before leaning around to see the door— it was cracked open and he could just barely see the Tanizaki siblings and Kyouka peeking in— and yelling, “And you can all stop hiding now, I know you’re listening!”