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#it serves its purpose of being a thing to contain my messy thoughts on this topic so far well. so that's good
ngmn2002 · 1 year
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Some little Haku-Koku nonsensical super messy talk
Want to see & read some huge nonsensical mess? Then, welcome!
Ok... thinking about this... can't stop doing so, really....
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........ Huh? You have a one just like it? Or... is it the 'form-shifting' trick that made you not realize what it is from the first glance? (bye-bey to my little 'white' crane red Haku fantasy, haha.. this thing came to me just now...! The crane shape thingy seems connected to 'Tsukasa' specifically?)
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Was he shocked upon realizing what red koku truly is & who it belongs to OR from hearing Tsukasa's voice? Hmm... well..... um...... red koku was used in there right....? Don't know how to say it.... shouldn't it turn out like this....?
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Or..... it's not the fire thingy nor that thing that gets red Haku to react... maybe this is the catch?
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Is red koku used in the process of changing the rumors in some way...? Alongside the mysterious radio? Hmm... and it's cool... Hanako's knife was able to cut red koku... while Teru's fest and exorcism stuff did nothing... why is that?
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Though, it's cool it did a fiery show right after both things happened. In one of them... it was indeed too cool... revealed someone... too fascinating to say the least....
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Gotta say... I love that little pose of his... red koku looks cool in there, unlike in the Teru one... and... I have to say... such a cool first introduction... woooh....! Ah... talking a bit more about Teru in this situation... when he fought Hanako in the past, he separated him from blue Hako... so he won't become 'not an evil spirit' as Hanako puts it... on the train... he was already using it... yet Teru managed to work around it somehow?
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He could work around blue Haku... yet couldn't work around red Koku... well.. it was Hanako using it... not blue Haku itself. Ah... speaking about that... what is blue koku for btw? We've never seen it in some 'special' use of its own before? Does it have some special use we will learn in the future... make you think...
Ah... speaking about Tsukasa (a yorishiro/ a sacred thing) a bit more... later on... Nene was able to do some damage to him... why? Is it: 1/ She is a special priestess/kannagi as it was said so... she purified him in some way... but... can a yorishiro be purified? Is a yorihsiro even considered an evil spirit? ........... 2/ Because it's Nene (being the current kanagi) ...  she can work around yorishiros just fine... not only by peeling off their 'seals' ..... 3/ Or... he (and red koku) was just too weak by then... ehhhhh........ -aaaah... while Tsukasa was supposedly asleep in Hanako's boundary... were his kokujoudai asleep, too? ehhh... too little is known about these things....
hmm... won't lose anything so let's think about this as well.....
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............ who are those with 'unsealed Hanako'? Haku (why not white?) ? Koku? Both fused together? ......... too confusing.... too confusing......
................. The mystery of Hako & koku is truly something...... * will share this fun thought that came to me some time ago, Tsukasa & Amane are twins... 2 halves of the same thing... hmm... in that light... wouldn't it feel nice if Hako & koku were like... 'twins' ... 2 parts of the same thing...? thing is... they are 4...... the 2 blue together & the 2 red ones together??? ...........
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Don't really want to include the anime stuff in here but... this thing is too hard for me to ignore.... for some reason.... Soooo.... Have it before I leave.
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sephirthoughts · 4 months
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Hi! I hope you had a good day today.
For the ask game, what are your thoughts on 5 and 9 for Sephiroth?
I did, thank you! I hope you had a good day, too!
ON TO THE BURNING QUESTIONS
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5. Sephiroth is such a wonderful layer-cake of pathologies, it's so fun to dissect the impacts on his personality. He is autistic-spectrum, hyper-intelligent, alienated, deeply insecure, and feels he has no 'place in the world'. Despite his insistence, under Jenova's influence, that he's the chosen one and meant to rule the world, he has rock-bottom self-esteem and almost no sense of self. He knows he's different but he has no idea who he is. Add being raised in a lab, horribly abused, and treated like a weapon rather than a person his whole life, and there's not a lot of Sephiroth left.
This would affect his living space in that it'd be generic, impersonal, highly functional, basically empty, serving its purpose as a place to rest, and nothing else. Has place to lie down, has place to shower, has place to dress=meets criteria. I doubt he'd notice if there were even blankets on the bed. It's a Sephiroth storage container, more than a living space. Which is terribly sad and now I am sad. BOOOO ME
Whether he's messy or not is another question. He honestly strikes me as someone who hates disorder if he ever thinks about it. The problem is, he does not think about it. He has executive function issues (see: his bout of manic hyperfocus in the archives, where he had books just strewn everywhere and didn't eat or sleep or bathe for days), and is generally unaware of anything pertaining to his own self-care, including messiness/dirtiness, unless they become a nuisance that disrupts his current fixation.
When he was being raised in the lab, he was a child, so there were people who cleaned, cooked, washed his clothing, etc., and in SOLDIER they definitely had people to take care of those kind of domestic things, so they could focus on training. Hence, he never learned to clean up after himself.
All of this wouldn't matter much, in a living situation with custodial services, but if left to his own devices, his combined lack of awareness, neglect of his own needs, and inexperience with such things would create a perfect storm. He'd forget to take the garbage out, never pick up after himself, not do the dishes, have takeout boxes everywhere, and have no idea that dusting, mopping, vacuuming, etc. even exist as concepts. I think his living space would be kind of awful. But he wouldn't notice.
That is, until Angeal comes over, has seven simultaneous brain aneurysms, leaves and returns with Zack and cleaning supplies, and they spend the next ten hours deep-cleaning the place, while Sephiroth insists it's not that bad.
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9. This accords so nicely with number 5! Because he'd be a terrible roommate.
-He'd be quiet, courteous, and never have parties or eat your food, but he'd leave stupid long silver hairs all over everything (the less said about the bathroom shower drain the better), never clean up after himself, and act confused when asked to do so.
-He is definitely the type to always be forgetting his house key. Like, he may as well not have one.
-He leaves that stupid, ultra-sharp, nine-foot-long sword just LYING AROUND WHEREVER. Someone is going to lose a foot.
-He thinks he's a great cook and likes to share his talent with people, and he's too sweetly sincere and excited about it, so you can't bear to break his heart, and you wind up gritting your teeth and smiling through a plate of sticky, pasty, mushy pasta, with sauce made from frankly baffling ingredients (you put walnuts in the marinara? ohhhh...how…interesting. is this an anchovy?).
-He casually says absolutely horrible, emotionally devastating things, without realizing they're horrible. Example:
person: my mom was so forgetful, she always used to burn the garlic bread and she'd mix up my brother's lunch box and mine half the time
sephiroth: haha yeah, i know what you mean. on several occasions, Hojo forgot to send someone to change my IV, when he left me strapped to an exam table in the basement lab for multiple days, and i nearly died of dehydration and malnutrition
person:
sephiroth: parents, right?
-Lastly, Sephiroth absolutely never wears a shirt and in fact doesn't even own one. This is not an annoying habit, this is the habit that makes all the other ones worth putting up with.
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advocaado · 3 years
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Fiction does not exist in a vacuum and absolutely can and does affect reality.
HOWEVER
Before you pin on your thought police badge and march off to start attacking people on the internet for the media they consume and create, let’s take a minute to talk about nuance and identify some actual problematic trends in media which have real life consequences.
The big question you need to ask yourself before you decry a person or piece of media is: Is that person/piece of media promoting, validating, and normalizing trends or acts that hurt real people? Or is that person/piece of media exploring a dark theme in fiction/harmlessly indulging in a kink?
Below are some examples of cases where “problematic” content in fiction is a danger to real life people, and many where it isn’t. This will not be an exhaustive list. I don’t have endless amounts of time to sit here and talk about every problem in fictional media, and even if I did, I wouldn’t, because there are many more things I’d rather do with my time.
Disclaimer: No media is 100% problem free. No human is 100% problem free. Engaging with others online to discuss problems in media is totally fine. If you don’t like something, it’s your god given right to bitch about it. Bitch to your heart’s content. Just don’t be an absolute ass cloak about it.
Example 1: Huckleberry Finn
This book famously contains racism. Is this a problem? No, not really. Listen. This book is literally about how racism is bad. The message is to not be a racist piece of shit. That’s the takeaway. If you got any other message from this book you need to work on your reading comprehension. Books that teach lessons are good things and impact society in positive ways. This book does literally the opposite of normalizing, promoting, and validating racism. It’s taught in schools for this exact reason. It’s not sugarcoated and that’s exactly what makes it powerful.
Example 2: Fairy Tail
The famous complaint about this and other works by Hiro Mashima is that the women are overly sexualized. Over sexualization of women is a big problem in media across the globe, but particularly in the media that comes out of Japan. It’s a problem that absolutely does affect real women. More on that later. But is Mashima really the big perpetuater of the kind of gross male reader voyeurism that has such a fierce grip on the anime industry? Actually, no. Not really. Yes, almost all the female characters in Fairy Tail are hot and have big boobs in a way that appeals to men. However, the lens through which Mashima tells his stories is not voyeuristic. He doesn’t go out of his way to draw panty shots or sexualize female characters nonconsensually. 9 times out of 10 the women are sexy because they want to be and do it in a way that is empowering for them. There are occasional exceptions, but by and large Fairy Tail is not the big offender of female objectification in anime. Moreover, almost all its male characters are hot and have six packs and idol hair in a way that appeals to women. Everyone is hot. There is no deeper meaning here. Enjoy this series if you like to watch hot people having fun and going on adventures together.
Example 3: Goblin Slayer
Oh, boy, Goblin Slayer. Now here’s a can of worms. Many upon many have decried GS for its inclusion of rape scenes and mentions. The goblins in GS have no females of their own species so they must impregnate human women to continue their race. This sounds utterly awful and it is. But is this finally our shining example of a dark theme in fiction that is problematic in a way that is dangerous to real people? Sorry, but no. Firstly, the concept of a fantasy creature who needs to use humans to reproduce was not invented by Kumo Kagyu and is in fact common in folklore around the world. He didn’t make it up as a way to condone rape. Could he have? Sure. But that’s not the reality of the series. The assault by goblins on human women is not treated as a good thing by Kagyu. It is shocking and horrific and has big consequences within the narrative for both the goblins and their victims. It isn’t treated lightly and does not serve to normalize, validate, or promote rape in real life. The reader/viewer is meant to be disgusted by the goblins, and these scenes, which are few and brief, serve their intended purpose. Nobody is going out and assaulting women in real life because they thought it was cool when the goblins did it in GS.
Oh, but Goblin Slayer, I’m not done with you just yet. Because while it would be a huge stretch to label the inclusion of rape in the series a danger to real life people, there’s something else that you don’t need to stretch nearly so much to identify as such. Remember when I talked about the voyeuristic male gaze being a concerning trend in anime? Well, GS has that in spades. The normalization of sexually objectifying women in non sexual situations is very much present in the series. Describing in loving detail the chest size/shape of every female character often and with gusto is a big part of the light novels. Kagyu loves to describe what a girl’s boobs are doing while she’s sitting at a table eating or doing any other mundane thing for no reason other than to sexualize her for the reader. He made the intentional decision to make Sword Maiden, a rape victim, very overtly sexual for the male gaze without the character having any agency in it. Sword maiden isn’t trying to be sexy. She doesn’t own her sexuality. Hell, she’s blind. Being sexy doesn’t empower her. She’s just fap fodder for the male reader. These things normalize objectifying women and are part of a longtime trend in anime which have real world consequences for both women and men. The sexualization of nonconsenting women is a huge problem in Japan and very much promoted through their media. Anime and light novels continue to send and perpetuate the message that objectifying women is okay and natural for boys to do, and while Kagyu certainly isn’t the worst offender, he’s happily hopped aboard that trolly because he doesn’t see anything wrong with it. And he can’t, because it’s been SO normalized.
Example 4: The Birth of a Nation.
This movie, while entirely fictional, is straight up anti-black propaganda intentionally made to spread hate and fear of black people. Obviously this is incredibly problematic and harmful to real black people. This movie was designed to be that way. The message is very clear. It’s a movie meant to rally whites against blacks, and it did. Horrifically so. Typically media containing hateful messages is less overt about it today, but abusing stereotypes and caricatures of real groups of people and otherwise intentionally perpetuating harmful ideas through fiction is a shitty thing to do and should be wholeheartedly condemned. (Note the keyword “intentionally”. If an author does this out of ignorance, which is all too common, rather than condemn we should seek to educate. People are capable of learning and growing and canceling them for mistakes made in ignorance is every bit as shitty as the mistake they made in the first place.)
Example 5: Fanfiction and shipping
At last, we come to fan media. This is where “don’t like don’t read” becomes the golden rule. Indulging in a kink or exploring dark themes in fanfiction is harmless 99.9% of the time. Fanfiction simply doesn’t have the reach, and thereby the influence, that mainstream media has. If someone wants to write something really fucked up, that’s their choice and nobody is making you read it. Unless the author is outright condoning harming real people, it’s really not your business what they choose to write about. Furthermore, deciding to read fucked up fanfiction does NOT make you a bad person. As stated before, the human psyche is messy and the world is not squeaky clean or a safe place. People are drawn to dark things and there’s really nothing wrong with that so long as real people aren’t being harmed. If something makes you uncomfortable, don’t engage. Protect yourself. You’re not making the world a better place by harassing people online. You’re just being a jerk and honestly doing far more harm to real ass people than that 20 year old writer on AO3 who wanted to write a story about Sasuke having sex with Naruto’s son because of 10 years of repressed sexual impulses toward Naruto.
I could say more but I’m tired and ready to celebrate my Friday by getting drunk. Feel free to interact if you want, just do everyone a favor and don’t be a dick.
TLDR
Things that make you a bad person:
Murdering people
Sexually assaulting/harassing people
Having sex with children
Creating or indulging in porn of real minors
Harassing and sending death threats to real people over the fictional media they create and consume
Espousing, condoning, or perpetuating hate toward marginalized peoples
Espousing, condoning, or perpetuating hate toward anyone tbh
Using fiction as a vehicle to promote, validate, and normalize causing harm to real people
Generally being an ass cloak
Things that DON’T make you a bad person
Consuming media that contains problematic elements
Creating media that contains problematic elements so long as you aren’t promoting, validating, and normalizing harmful acts toward real people
Writing fanfiction
Reading fanfiction
Shipping whatever you goddamn want to ship
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trashahime · 4 years
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I wrote this up for a friend who thinks I am deranged for thinking Yashahime is all or partially an illusion and that the OG crew are "playing" the villians. I compiled this partial list of evidence for him and thought I'd share it here.
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I could be wrong about it being an illusion but I think there have been significant hints to the "unreality" of Yashahime. If it was just one or two clues, I'd be doubtful too. But there's so many and they have expressed the same idea in different ways.
There's the obvious line about dreams and reality in the opening. Also...
In the show, twitter, website and interviews Sunrise has made references to:
Acting/theater: several mentions of curtains closing/opening, called the Feudal Era a "stage", Konton referred to a "show", the "black curtain" in the title of episode 14. Merch of Moroha and Setsuna dramatically posing, looking like they are "acting". And so much more in this regard.
Masks/fake guises: heavy use of masks in the show, including having the extra two demon slayers in theirs almost constantly amd needlessly. It's mentioned in the end song. Discussion of hiding behind icons in Uru's interview. Yotsume's human face looks exactly like an Okina mask. They also posted a photo of Konton on twitter where his eyes are completely in shadow, making his face look like a mask. There's also a twitter pic of Towa with wigs.
False representations: Photos on twitter of hobby shops that sell toy models, or action figures. Also merch of characters posed with miniatures of other characters.
Osamu Tezuka: I recently posted I thought Yashahime was a homage to him. He is famous for his "star system" where he casts his characters into different roles in his various works.
Treekyo: There was no real need to make the Tree of Ages to look like Kikyo. I think the entire point was to give a significant hint in the anime itself that people can look like someone they are not.
They have provided the following visual evidence:
In one scene, Towa's room looks like she just moved in. It messy and full of boxes. Later it's neat, sparse and devoid of any personal items, like a guest room would be. I think it's a clue that Yashahime is not reflecting reality.
On the twitter they posted a picture of Moroha without fangs, and shortly thereafter posted one where she has them.
Relatedly, in the show Yashahime likes to do close ups of Moroha's claws but in her profile pic, she has human nails. Lady Kyuki has the same with her feet in her profile picture. One foot has human toes, the other has claws.
In the scene where the girls return to the past, the tree of ages is briefly lit up and appears to be covered in vines. They are not there when the glow goes away.
This is just a personal feeling but everything in Yashahime feels like it takes place relatively close to the tree of ages. If its not an entire illusion then it could be that the girls are in limited area "movie set" type environment.
In the Feudal Era there are very background characters unless they serve some purpose. Yashahime feels weirdly "unpopulated" I guess you could say.
There's a bunch more, mostly little things that would be too tedious to list. The above points are what I think are the most compelling.
*
I have a second part for why I think the missing characters are playing the villians but this post is already long and I need to go to work. It contains additional illusion evidence too. I will post it later tonight or tomorrow.
Part 2
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true-blue-megamind · 3 years
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Daylight and Dark Ch. 3 - Ares
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Photo by Joe Waranont
Some Yuletide silliness and... At last!  Enter the villain!
CHAPTER RATING: Teen; FULL FICTION RATING: Explicit.   WARNINGS FOR  ENTIRE WORK: violence, sex, language, references to prior domestic abuse, and rock n’ roll! CHAPTER WARNINGS: brief description of violence.
There is nothing NSFW in this chapter, but it is a bit long, so I am adding a Click Here to Keep Reading link.  You can also read the entire entire fiction HERE.
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There were moments in life when Roxanne couldn't help but think about perspective: about how funny it was that a person could never clearly see the road to their destination until that destination had been reached. She'd felt that way one bitter winter morning, in her office, when she had suddenly realized that she was becoming one of those sentimental hack reporters she'd always hated. She'd felt that way on the long-ago windy spring afternoon when she had finally understood that she would never have feelings for Metro Man, and she'd felt it on the early summer day last year when she'd learned, to her own surprise, she was in love with his former nemesis. Roxanne had that same feeling tonight. Stepping out of the taxi Megamind had insisted on paying for she'd immediately been met by three brainbots, two of which immediately took charge of her small suitcase.  Greeting them with pats, she had walked the last block through the biting December chill with her unusual escort bowging at her heels.  The little cyborgs had darted away once their charge reached Megamind's invisible doorstep, probably to inform their master of her arrival. Now she stood alone and stared at a cross-stitched sampler, hung incongruously beside what appeared to be a solid wall, which read: "Lair Sweet Lair" in slightly crooked letters. What was he up to?
That September afternoon on the balcony, after the first night they'd made love, had been a turning point in Roxanne and Megamind's relationship. She had expected that, of course, but now that she had arrived at this still-mysterious milestone in her life, something in the back of her mind teased that it had been even more important than she'd realized. They had shared deep, personal sorrows, hidden from all other eyes, and an impenetrable glass wall had been removed. She realized, at this moment, that something undefinable had happened as well. Ever since that day, something had begun building between them, unnoticed and unspoken, creating a channel into which two spirits were poured and mingled. Try though she might, however, that something refused to slide into focus. It was both elating and terrifying, for Roxanne had not fully expected the cozy intensity that she and Megamind had found. How was it possible to feel so relaxed, so at home, around someone that being near him was like snuggling into a favorite sweater, while still feeling so powerfully and passionately attached to that same person that he made you antsy, strangely warm, and a little nervous? How was it even possible to feel simultaneously self-conscious and comfortable in the first place?
The oddity of those emotions was disconcerting enough, but worse still was the fact that Roxanne had realized that she no longer loved solitude, because solitude meant Megamind wasn't around.  True, she still enjoyed many of the same quiet hobbies— reading books, binging sci-fi movies, solving crossword puzzles—but now she was only happy if a certain blue alien was beside her, busily sketching design schematics for his latest invention, or pointing out in hilariously descriptive detail why a particular piece of film prop "space tech" wouldn't actually work at all.  She had always disdained those couples who seemed to be attached at the hip: the sort that showed up to every party together and skipped any function one of them couldn't attend. Now it seemed she was becoming half of one. Worst of all, she didn't mind. She liked it. She was sublimely happy with it.
What is wrong with me?
She and Megamind had fallen into an easy rhythm as serene and unquestioning as the deepest friendship, yet had retained all the fire and ardor of a new infatuation. A traitorous little voice in her head asked if this was the way people felt before they got married, moved to the suburbs, gained ten pounds, and started daydreaming about babies. She refused to listen, refused to even consider the possibility of leaving chic professionalism for matrimonial doom, but that same little voice reminded her that it wouldn't be so bad as long as it was with Megamind. Despite all her denials, Roxanne had to admit that something new had grown between herself and her favorite hero, inching up, bit by bit, undetected, until suddenly she noticed it was all around her. Small kindnesses, shared moments, camaraderie, and passion had all built into something beautiful, strange, and a little scary.
Which is what brought her to tonight and her current situation, as she stood shivering in the winter evening, looking at that foolish sampler and wondering why the sight of it set alarm bells ringing in her head. Megamind had invited her over, insisting that he had a Christmas gift that couldn't wait for Christmas, and she had not considered the oddity of the date until this moment.
Why now? Why tonight?
That was it. Roxanne's eyes widened with a realization that should have been obvious. Today was December 12th. Exactly eighteen years ago Margaret Ritchi, Roxanne's mother, had taken a turn too quickly, swerved on icy pavement, and ended her life. Although it wasn't unusual for Roxanne to visit her lover in the middle of the week, it was unlike Megamind to ask her over at a specific time, especially when she had just gotten back into town, tired after a business trip, which indicated that he probably had something planned. It would be exactly like him to researched old traffic incidents just so that he could invite her over to cheer her up on the anniversary of her mother's death.
The question was, was he just planning on distracting her from her memories, or did he have something more serious in mind?
"Miss Ritchi," Minion appeared through the hologram wall, less than two feet away from Roxanne. She had to crane her neck up to look into the fishy face set atop his six-foot-tall robotic body. "Miss Ritchi, if you please, could you come inside? He's been watching you on the monitor for ten minutes and he's starting to worry."
"Oh, I… Of course. I'm sorry Minion. I just—"
It was always odd watching a fish smile. "No apologies needed. Just come inside before you freeze."
He ushered her through with the wave of a metallic arm, and Roxanne stopped so suddenly that he nearly crashed into her as he followed.
"Oh, my…"
Garlands. The Evil Lair was strung with garlands of faux evergreen twigs, plastic holly, and red and gold ribbons. Multiple strings of colored lights, hung with no apparent order or plan in mind, blinked, chased, and sparkled in crisscrossing lines until the flashing dials and blinking buttons in the workroom looked like no more than additional decorations. In the middle of the yuletide chaos stood a massive Christmas tree, its top nearly lost in the shadows of the high ceiling. Brainbots hovered and buzzed around it, trimming it in a haphazard fashion that Roxanne suspected explained the random order of the rest of the decorations. Most of the items being hung on the tree were normal— glass balls, silvery snowflakes, diminutive, jolly Santas— but every now and again a brain bot added a shiny bit of wire or a large metal nut. Christmas carols were blaring from the nearby stereo.
"Roxanne! What do you think?" Megamind's happy voice startled her from her contemplation. He jumped down the last two industrial steps leading up to the second floor, his face glowing with good cheer and one arm sweeping out proudly to indicate the scene. Roxanne turned her eyes back to the seasonal décor and the happily buzzing robots. After the initial shock, it really wasn't so bad. In fact, it was almost cute, like the messy decorations of enthusiastic children.
"It's wonderful," she answered, turning back to her lover with a genuine smile.
He beamed at her. "I'm so glad you like it! And look," he added with a sly smile. "We've got rocket-toe!"
"Mistletoe, silly," Roxanne smiled, leaning up to give him a soft kiss.
"Rocket, missile, what does it matter? Missiles have rocket propulsion systems."
"Uh-huh," Roxanne's expression was all wry amusement.
"The early Soviet Vostok rockets were based on the R-7 ICBM," Megamind informed her. "So I can see no reason whatsoever why rocket-toe should be any less—"
"Megamind?"
"Hmmm?"
"It's still called Mistletoe."
"Potato, tomato, potato, cucumber," he answered with a teasing grin.
Roxanne laughed. "Cucumber? Really? Why cucumber?"
"Well, they both grow on vines. Yet tomatoes are technically fruits while cucumbers are vegetables."
Roxanne laughed. "I always thought that was kind of weird. I mean: why?"
"They're gourds."
"What?"
"Cucumbers. They're gourds."
"Megamind, I was talking about the tomatoes-are-fruits thing."
"Ah, well, botanically, they're ripened flower ovaries that contain seeds, and—"
"Sir—" interjected Minion.
"And this will really blow your mind: so are zucchinis!"
"Sir—"
"Think about it: cucumbers and zucchinis, so similar yet so different."
"Sir! Didn't you have something to show Miss Ritchi?"
"Oh! Of course!" his face lit up, and he grabbed Roxanne's hand. "Come up! You'll love this! Wait until you see the dining room!"
"Dining… But you don't have a—"
"We do now! Follow me!"
He pulled her bodily past the command room and back up the metal stairs, her surprise growing with every step. The conference room near the kitchen— which had never seemed to serve much purpose since any meetings involved only Megamind, Minion, and, during the last several months, Roxanne— had, indeed, been transformed into a cozy dining room. Another garland swagged across the doorway, and a dark wood table, set as if in expectation of a festive meal, displayed a centerpiece of holly and ribbons surrounding three crème-colored candles. Beside the industrial stairs leading to the third floor— their banisters also bedecked in Yuletide fashion— the plain bathroom that had once served the offices over the factory had been updated and expanded. It looked as if it belonged in a wealthy grandma's house— if Granny had decided to go Goth. A largely unused, cavernous storage space had been turned into a sitting room. It proudly boasted not only a black leather sofa, matching recliner, and built-in dark wood bookshelves stuffed with second-hand volumes, but also an old-fashioned pot-bellied stove that Roxanne was almost certain was against fire codes. In one corner, a more elegantly decorated Christmas tree— probably Minion's work— stood glittering with white lights and antique glass ornaments.
Even that wasn't the most shocking addition to the new living space, however.
"Megamind, there aren't any external walls here. How on earth did you put in windows?"
"Isn't it great?!" he threw himself into the chair, grabbed a remote control from a side pocket, and aimed it at the window. Instantly the view of Metro City Beach was replaced by a forested mountain range.
"It's absurdly simple, really: just a high-definition plasma monitor that I mounted behind framed glass and connected to video feeds that I've had set up in various locations! That conversation we had last autumn about your apartment windows gave me the idea. Look! If you don't like the view, you just change the scenery with a press of a button!"
He clicked the control a couple of more times, bringing up a snow-covered prairie, a quaint French village, and a tropical reef.
"Minion picked out the last one," he explained. "It also interfaces with the supercomputer, so you can use it for research, calls… Look, the frames retract for a better view!"  he demonstrated.  "Then you push this button, and... voila!" A holographic keyboard had appeared in midair above the remote.  Megamind set the device down, and, to Roxanne's astonishment, began typing.  A browser popped up on the "window," and he navigated to a video featuring winter scenery to the accompaniment of a Boston Pop's Christmas album.
"Megamind, that's really amazing," Roxanne managed. "All of this is, really... I mean, you've made it so—" she almost said "homey," but bit back the word and finished with: "comfortable."
"I'm glad to hear you say that!" There was something warm in his voice that both thrilled and frightened her. "Oh! Oh! Oh! But it gets even better!" He leaped up and tugged her out of the room. "Let me show you what we've done upstairs!"
The third floor, once comprised of large executive offices, was where Minion and Megamind slept. Roxanne had been there many times in the past weeks, though she was admittedly usually too preoccupied to give much attention to the décor.
Megamind's room had changed from a blacked-out bachelor pad to a stylishly Gothic bedchamber. The walls were a rich blue. A full suite of carved ebony furniture—bed, wardrobe, nightstand, and chest of drawers— had replaced the previous collection of mismatched thrift finds. The ornate four-poster sported a new satin coverlet set in hues of gray, black, and cobalt, and was piled with silky-looking ash-colored pillows that Roxanne suspected matched the sheets. An impressionist oil painting of a historic street at night— rendered almost entirely in blue shades and black shadows— and a large mirror both hung in antique silver frames. Two lamps and a small chandelier, all wrought iron, completed the picture. It belonged on the cover of Evil Lair and Garden. Or maybe as the set of a photoshoot for Bad Boys Weekly. That would be better. All it lacked was its sexy male occupant lounging on the covers. The thought made Roxanne shiver with delight.
Minion's room reminded her of a garden pool, all greens, browns, and teals.  Its bamboo furnishings and simple stone accents gave it a slightly Asian ambiance. The style was completely different from Megamind's Vampire Chic bedroom. Full of clean lines and abstract art, it looked more like a post-modern interior design catalog than a Goth culture magazine.
"He picked everything out himself," Megamind was saying. "You should have seen him, like a kid in a candy store! When I told him I wouldn't invade his privacy by bringing you to his room, he was utterly offended! He insisted that if I didn't show you he would never speak to me again. And that I could expect literally everything he cooked to be smothered in mayonnaise for at least a week!" The blue man made a show of shuddering in horror. Looking around, he added: "I should have let him redecorate years ago."
"I'm curious, why is there no bed?"
"Roxanne, he's a fish. He lives in a fishbowl."
The grin she gave him was three parts knowing and one part sly triumph. "And so he has a bedroom because….?"
Megamind blushed a little under his blue tint. "Well, I mean, you know..."
Cocking one arm to rest on her hip, Roxanne gently poked his chest with her other forefinger. "I always knew you were a big softy deep inside, even when you were a supervillain."
He spluttered. "That isn't… I am not… I was disgustingly horrifying! And..."
She laid a finger over his lips. "I always knew, and I love you for it." Smiling into his emerald eyes, she tilted her face up to give him a long, deep kiss. "Now, before you take me back to your new bedroom, tell me: what's that other door at the end of the hall?"
"That, well," He smiled and rubbed one ear, a nervous gesture she had come to adore. "That's my early Christmas present to you. Come have a look."
He took her hand gently this time, and when he pushed open the third door, Roxanne's mouth fell open.
"Ta-da!" he spun to face her, cloak billowing.  His tone was all bold showmanship as he swung his arms wide to encompass their surroundings, but Roxanne knew him well enough to recognize the uneasiness hidden behind the bravado.
She stared around wide-eyed at the vaguely familiar round room. Everything in it had been changed so completely that it took her a moment to recognize the place she had awoken during her final kidnapping. The industrial elevator and second floor had been removed. A spiral staircase now led to a cozy loft and catwalk lined with wooden bookcases. All of the equipment had been moved out, the domed walls and ceiling had been expertly plastered and painted, and, where there had once been a telescope with mechanical shutters, there were now two glass doors leading onto a private balcony overlooking Lake Michigan. It was… perfect. Wonderfully, frighteningly perfect. Her own style—too formal to be modern but too clean to be antique—her favorite colors—sage green, sky blue, and soft ivory with cheerful red accents.  The bookshelves—obviously custom-made to fit the curving walls—and few other pieces of furniture were warmly-stained oak that exactly matched the contents of her apartment.  There were several empty spaces where she was clearly intended to move in her things. Roxanne knew she should have been thrilled—all the work, care, and expense he'd put into this would be enough to make any one of those silly interns goofy with elation—but all she could feel was cold dread.
"I was thinking we could put your living room suite upstairs to make a reading nook! And look!" He grabbed another remote control from a bracket on the wall. "I've renovated the alligator pit!" With the push of a button, a round trap door—one the reporter remembered with something almost like fondness— opened, and a half-moon desk with a cushy office chair rose on a platform to click into place with the rest of the floor. "I've, ah, also included controls in a hidden wall panel. I know how you lose remotes." He paused expectantly. "So, what do you think?" His smile was starting to look a little forced around the edges.
"Wow, Megamind," she tried not to sound unhappy. His feelings could be so easily crushed, though he excelled at hiding it. "This is…unexpected..."
His face fell slightly, and she searched quickly for something more positive to say.
Deciding on gentle honesty, she added: "I mean, this is exactly the way I would have decorated it myself. I had no idea…"
"Really?" God, she hated the vulnerable hope in his eyes.
"It's beautiful. It is. And sweet. But…"
"But?" he urged uncertainly, nervously fiddling with one of the studs on his black leather gauntlet.
"It just… This… All of this… It's happening so fast." It sounded like a canned response even to her.
True to form, her blue-skinned lover tried to put on a brave face with humor. "Oh, come on, you already sleep here more than you do your own place. This would make everything easier."
"Megamind, this is serious. I'm not sure if I'm ready yet."
"If there's one thing I've learned from all my battles, it's that there are some things you'll never feel ready for, but if you really want it, you just have to jump in anyway."
"Okay, but this? We've never even discussed me moving in, and this is just one step away from being married, and… I just…" she sighed. "I love you. I do, but I've never lived with someone before, and I… I need a little time to think this over." she finished lamely. Seeing his unhappy face, she added: "I'm not necessarily saying no, just...not yet."
"But Roxanne—"
"This is a wonderful gesture, but it's so sudden. I just don't think I can."
"Of course you can. Please, Roxanne, Sweetheart, say yes. Stay here with me," his voice took on an almost pleading tone. "It doesn't have to feel like we're living together. That's why you have a separate bedroom. Whenever you need time to yourself, you know I'll always give it to you."
"Megamind, it's not—"
"This doesn't have to be any more than you want it to be."
"Megamind, please—"
"I'll never invade your privacy unless you want me to." He dropped his voice to a sultry purr. "And when I do, I'll invade it very, very well."
"That isn't what—"
"I promise I'll be the best roommate you've ever had. We share a bathroom," he indicated the door on the left-hand wall. "The plumbing was insufficient for two, but there is a double sink. And I can use the facilities downstairs if you need me to."
"That's really sweet, but it's not the issue. I'm not ready for this."
"Stay anyway."
"I can't"
He crossed his arms. "Can't, or won't?"
"Why are you being so pushy about this?! You never push! And now you're asking me to give up my apartment, change my life… Megamind, that's a huge decision!"
"You're right. I never push. I've never before asked you for anything unless it involved protecting this city. But you know what? I'm asking now. This is the only request I've ever made of you. So please, please do this for me."
"Damn it, Megamind, that is so unfair!" Hot tears stung Roxanne's eyes. "I can't! Not yet! I'm not ready! And it's really low of you to pull that never-asked-for-anything card!"
That hit a nerve. "I am NOT pulling a card, Roxanne! I'm being very, very honest!"
"I didn't mean… I just…"
"I'm offering you everything! My home! My privacy! A place in every aspect of my life! I am offering you—a reporter!—all my secrets! I'm offering my feelings, my time, my vulnerability! I'm pulling out my heart here, Roxanne, pulling it out and laying it at your feet! Don't pay me back by stomping on it!"
There was ringing silence for a moment.
"I'm sorry," Megamind said at last. "That was… It wasn't fair of me to say..." He drew in a deep breath. "I just really need you to stay here."
Roxanne swiped at her eyes in frustrated, jerky movements.
"I think I'd better go."
"No! Wait!" he grabbed her arm.
"Let go!" She demanded. He did and she stormed toward the door.
"Roxanne!" Megamind dodged around to block her path. "Roxanne, I'm sorry, but I can't let you leave yet.  Please listen to me! I know you're upset, but please let me explain!" He braced his back against the door as she tried to push past him. "This isn't just about me wanting you close! This is about your safety!"
"My… Oh, God, now you're starting with the helpless damsel crap?!" She tried to push past him again.  "Let me out!"
"I will, Roxanne, as soon as you hear what I have to tell you."
She glared at him.  "Let.  Me.  Out."
"Sweetheart, please..."
"Megamind, I mean it!" she yelled.  "You promised me!  You said no more real kidnappings!  You promised!  Let me out!"
The pain in his eyes was like a punch to Roxanne's heart, and that somehow made her temper burn even higher.
"You promised!" she said again, her voice rising nearly to a shriek.
"That's not what this is, Roxanne!  If you would just listen I wouldn't have to do this!  You think I like feeling like a monster?!"
"Then stop doing it!"
"I can't. Not when you're trying to run away rather than listen. Look, you're angry.  I don't pretend to know why, but I accept that you are," His voice was deliberately calm, emotion simmering underneath, but he held his ground, pressing his weight back harder when she scrabbled for the doorknob. She wanted to slap him. "But, Roxanne, I still need you to listen," Megamind lifted one hand like he meant to touch her cheek, but stopped himself, closing his fingers on thin air. "I know you can take care of yourself under normal circumstances, but things have changed. Something's happened, and now… Metrocity isn't safe for you anymore."
That stopped her in her tracks. "Megamind, what are you talking about?"
"I didn't want to bring this up until I could gather some more information." Fishing into his pocket, he pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. "I didn't want to worry you, not until I had a plan…"  He sighed. Reluctantly, Megamind handed over a folded letter.  His lover opened it to reveal oddly formal calligraphy.
My Dear Hesperos,
I have recently undertaken a business proposition in Metro City, which I understand is under your protection. In general, I applaud your intelligent planning and remarkable success in execution, but I wish you to understand that I cannot allow my operations to be jeopardized. Although your newfound love of justice and position as Defender of Metro City are both, to say the least, surprising, I shall not disparage your change in career. However, I believe that you also have seen enough of the world and society through the eyes of a villain to know that law and justice are, too often, completely disparate, and that sometimes an act of villainy is the only truly righteous course. Therefore I am sending this correspondence as both a professional courtesy and as an offer of peace.
Out of respect and remembered fondness for you, I desire to find a mutually beneficial compromise. It is therefore my hope that this communication will achieve two purposes. First, I wish to assure you that, as my plans currently stand, my activities within your city will neither be aimed against the populace at large nor intended to undermine the normal daily operations of the city itself. I will not, however, insult your intellect or my honor by claiming actions will be viewed, by the strictest interpretation of the law, as anything other than criminal. Nonetheless, be assured that it is my intention to complete my business quickly, discreetly, and without any more loss of life than is necessary. Second, I wish to cordially advise you not to attempt to dissuade me. I do not desire harm to come to you, or any dear to you, but I am a gentleman of business and must protect my interests. If you will consent to allow me to complete my task without interference, you will hardly notice my presence. However, if you take it upon yourself to trouble me, I am afraid I shall have to extract a dire price.
I would take no joy in harming a lovely young lady like Miss Ritchi, but accidents do happen, especially to those who oppose me.
Yours in Good Faith,
Ares Coeus
Roxanne felt slightly cold by the time she finished reading. To think that two minutes ago she'd been worried about whether Megamind wanted to become too serious!
But she hadn't become a star reporter by letting fear control her.  "Wow, okay.  So, this is... Not what I expected." She looked at him. "I'm sorry... I..."
"It's alright, Love.  And I understand. Believe me, it's thrown a wrench into my gears, too."
She nodded, forcing her mind to focus as panic tried once again to drown her natural spunk and curiosity.  "Ares? Like the god of war?" she managed a wry grin. "Really? That's a little dramatic."  Her attempt at a smile smile felt wrong, like it was stretched too tight.
Megamind didn't share her humor. "Yes, Sweetheart, like the Greek god of war."
Something about that name tugged at the depths of her mind. "I think... I think I remember hearing something about him now. Ares escaped Metro City Prison for the Criminally Insane when I was in the fourth grade. No one except you had ever done it before. No one except you has done it since. People were panicking. Some parents wouldn't let their kids go to school."  She paused.  "That was weird, now that I think about it.  They never did that when you escaped."
"I was not just the local supervillain but also a recognized super-genius.  My escaping was almost expected, even if they did everything they could to prevent it.  That was just another Tuesday.  But Ares' escape wasn't part of the show.  They couldn't tell themselves it was only because of my extreme brilliance and ingenuity; not when the escapee was another human.  That made it more... real."
Roxanne nodded and cleared her throat. "So… Hesperos. Is that you?"
"Yes. It was Ares' name for me. Hesperos Oldwin."
"Oldwin. That doesn't really fit the pattern. All the other names he chose sound Classical."
"You're right. It doesn't. Ares was obsessed with Greek myths, among other things—especially with both his namesake and with the story of the titan Cronos eating his own children, who were then reborn as gods—but the ancient Greeks didn't have a word for 'blue.'"
"Seriously?"
He made a brave attempt at a chuckle. "Clearly they didn't appreciate the finer things, at least where colors were concerned," His weak smile couldn't seem to hold onto his lips, and quickly fell away. He sighed. "Anyway, Ares gave me the name Hesperos Oldwin because it means Morning Star Blue Sky. The blue part is obvious—"
"Hmmm," she agreed
"And then, of course, my escape pod came from the stars and fell from the sky one morning."
"So he was, what? Your friend? Why is he threatening you?"
"I think I was the closest thing to a friend Ares ever had, but that wasn't very close. More like hero worship." At Roxanne's look, he grimaced slightly. "Remember, I was young and… less brilliant."
"But you liked him?"
"'Like' is too strong a word.  Ares was… strange, but he enjoyed my company when I was a boy because I was the only one who could keep up with his intellect, even beat him at chess, although I quickly learned that outsmarting him too much led him to abandon me for days on end.  He could be… disinterested, but more often he talked to me, sometimes for hours, when he wasn't locked in solitary confinement. I thought he was cool— smooth, sophisticated, well-spoken, smart, tough— and maybe I liked finding someone fairly close to my own age who didn't revile me for a change." He studied his black boots. "Maybe it made me feel special that I was the only other person he bothered naming."
Roxanne gently lifted his chin. "You were lonely.  I can't really blame you."
"I can."  Megamind sighed. "As I grew older I began to realize that some things about him were just… off. It wasn't until years afterward that I learned 'morning star' is also the meaning of the name Lucifer, as in the devil in most Abrahamic religions. By that time Ares was already gone, but I have the feeling the parallel wasn't an accident. The worst part is, I don't think he meant it as an insult."
"Okay, but how much of that is just a persona? You once said that the difference between a villain and a supervillain is presentation."
"Minion said that," he reminded her.
"It's still true."
"This is different."
"I don't mean he's necessarily a supervillain. You grew up in prison. You're better at analyzing criminal minds than any psychiatrist I've ever heard of. I've seen you figure people out so fast it's almost like mind-reading. I'm guessing Ares isn't his real name, so clearly he's putting on a show. How much is him and how much is just an act?"
"Oh, you don't understand!" Megamind threw up his hands and began pacing. "Ares does not play at evil insanity. He's the real deal! No one in that prison ever crossed him. Convicts, guards, even the warden feared him. Most people, even criminals, have limits… lines they won't cross, but Ares… He had no lines. He would be a perfectly nice and polite man until someone did something he didn't like—anything, a tone of voice, the wrong look—and then, in a flash, he could turn horrible and callous. He would get this cold smile on his face, and you knew sometime soon something truly terrible was going to happen to that person. And it never bothered him. Not even a little."
"You make him sound like a monster."
"He is."
Roxanne stood up and stopped his pacing with a hug. "No, Megamind. He's just a man."
With a sigh, Megamind gently pushed her away. "Roxanne," he looked her in the eye. "I was twelve when Ares was arrested. He was only a few years older than me, not quite a legal adult, but they sent him to a high-security facility for the criminally insane. Do you know why? When he found out his father was cheating on his mother, Ares murdered both the man and his mistress. And not in a crime of passion. He searched, learned, planned, and prepared. He found out about the spa resort his father often took his mistress to— an exclusive and very discreet place outside of town—"
Roxanne was starting to feel a little sick. "Oh my God… The Nelson Case. You knew that guy?"
"Yes. Ares' real name is Eric Nelson."
"I read about that trial for a paper when I was in college. Did he really kill them in the steam room?"
Megamind nodded. "He told me all about it. Bragged. The fake ID, the forged credentials, the Social Security System hack… And then he got a maintenance job at the spa resort. Even though he was rarely around guests, he was always in disguise, even changing his mannerisms and the way he walked… He learned how the steam system worked, created a bypass for the safety measures…." Megamind shuddered. "Roxanne, he literally steam broiled those people alive. And he watched. He stood there and he watched. His own father…" With a shake of his head, Megamind added: "He wasn't even sorry. Ares called himself a 'soldier of righteousness,' and insisted it was the legal system that was corrupt."
"How could he think that?"
"He's crazy. But he's also calculating, cold, and cruel. That makes him dangerous. When his twisted sense of honor and justice is incensed, he is capable of truly horrific things." Megamind sighed again. "After Ares escaped prison, he joined a paramilitary organization, but apparently his philosophies were too... extreme even for them. The last I heard, he was working as an assassin, but he only takes certain jobs that he feels are in line with his off-center views of right and wrong. He's so good at making his murders look like accidents that no one— not even in the criminal underworld— really knows what his kill count is. Even so, the sorts of 'accidents' he causes… Let's just say people don't hire Ares if they want the funeral to be open casket."
"Maybe he's not serious." Even to her, it sounded more like a plea than a suggestion. "What if he's just playing mind games with you?" Roxanne trailed off as she studied her lover's face.
"No. Ares isn't like other villains we've faced… like I was. This isn't something he does for fame, money, petty revenge, or for the simple reason that he's bored out of his skull and needs intellectual stimulation. He doesn't play games, or if he does, he plays for keeps."
It felt as if ice had replaced her spine. "And you really think he'll do it? That he'll find me?"
Green eyes met hers, and something in their depths made the ice expand to fill her stomach.
"Megamind?"
He glanced away again, like he couldn't bear to see her reaction. "Sweetheart, there were..." his throat bobbed.
"There were photographs enclosed with the letter," he answered quietly, as if lowering the tone of his words would somehow lessen their impact. "They were… One was of you standing just inside the glass doors of your balcony—"
"Oh my God." she breathed, moving to collapse into the desk chair.
"One was of you leaving the news station. The last was of you jogging in Hill Top Park." He finally met her gaze again. "Sweetheart… I'm sorry… He has already found you." He knelt beside her, turned the desk chair to face him, and took her hands in his, looking earnestly up at her. "I have to try to stop him. You know I do. I'm the good guy now. But I can't do that and watch your back at the same time. Not if we're apart. That's why I really, really need you to stay here."
Something in her vaguely understood that she should care about that, but it suddenly seemed as if her brain, overwhelmed with terror, had opted to turn itself off. Her heart, in contrast, was screaming and she felt like she might be physically ill. This, Roxanne decided distantly, must be what a panic attack felt like.
"What about… my job?"
"Telecommute."
Her laugh sounded bitter and wild in her own ears. "I'm an on-scene correspondent. I can't telecommute."
"Then take some time off," he offered gently. "We'll talk to the station, or have the officials contact them. This is little different from a witness protection program. And it's only temporary. They'll have to understand."
"And if they don't?"
"I'll make them."
Roxanne buried her face in her palms. She heard the tread of leather boots, the sighing swish of a cape, and deft hands began massaging her shoulders. Megamind's voice spoke gently behind her.
"Roxanne. Listen to me. It will be alright. Everything will be alright. We are going to get through this. He hasn't found this place, and I've made some alterations to ensure it stays that way."
"How do you know he hasn't found your hideout?" she asked between her fingers.  "You can't possibly know that."
"He hasn't.  Trust me.  His letter was sent to my fan mail post box. Ares likes keeping people off balance, making them feel he has the upper hand. If he had known where my Lair was, he would have found a way to deliver it directly here. He didn't, which means we're safe. I've been working on some enhancements for a while, but Minion and I have put in a lot of hours to finish them quickly. This entire building is now outfitted with a cloaking shield: a hard light hologram similar to what the holowatch produces. I took it down briefly when I saw you approach, and put it back up once you came in. Now all anyone will see is an empty, condemned building. No dome, no signs of life, nothing."
Turning the chair to face him, she suddenly threw her arms around Megamind and held him close.  He knelt to let her hide her face against his neck.  Like a child awakened from a bad dream, Roxanne buried herself in his warmth and breathed in the comfort of his scent.
"I really am sorry," her words were muffled by his skin. "I'm so very sorry."
He ran gentle hands up and down her arms.  "I am too."
"You shouldn't be."
"If you weren't with me, this never would have happened."
"No.  People assumed I dated Metro Man, and they would have assumed the same about us." 
"I should have realized sooner.  I should have done better."
"You're doing your best."
"We both are."
"I'm so sorry I yelled at you."
"You didn't know."
The moment of weakness passed, and Roxanne gathered herself, gluing pieces of broken confidence back together with spunky determination and brave humor.
"Yeah, well, you know, you could have told me this sooner and saved us the trouble of arguing," she jibed halfheartedly, her crooked smile appearing through tears.
His answering grin was weak, and a little sad. "I didn't want to have to tell you. Not now, not tonight. And I didn't want to ruin your holidays." His shoulders drooped slightly. "Tonight was supposed to be about cheering you up. I wanted to make you happy, not terrify the living daylights out of you."
"But I thought you liked terrifying me. Why else did you kidnap me all the time?"
"How else could I spend time with you? Besides, you were never truly scared of me. Annoyed, yes. Sometimes even angry, but never scared." He wrapped her in an embrace. "And I happen to think you're extremely sexy when you're angry."
That drew a tearful laugh from Roxanne. "Right, because, you know, that's one I've never heard before." Sighing, she looked back at her new bedroom. "Thank you for everything you've done, Megamind. If it's okay, I'll enlist the brainbots' help in moving my things tomorrow."
"I'll be glad to have them give you a hand, but we should do it late at night. That's when Ares… works. He'll be less likely to be watching your apartment."
They were silent for a moment.
"Well," Roxanne's voice held a tone of determined calm. "At least we have a plan."
He smiled. "We have a plan."
There was another pause.
"So..." casting around for something to say, Roxanne landed on: "how long has Ares been in Metro City, and what do we know so far?"
"Not much. I got the letter last Thursday, but Ares has been laying low.  I've had brainbots guarding you twenty-four-seven."
"I thought I saw more of them around than usual.  Wait," she looked around her room with new admiration. "You managed to get all of this pulled together in six days?  That's... Darling, that's beyond impressive! That's amazing!"
"Five days, six hours, and fifty-three minutes, to be precise," Megamind answered, standing up and managing another gray smile. "Incredibly Handsome Genius, remember? You'd be surprised what can be done with a little determination, a large budget, and thousands of tireless laborers."
"Large budget?"
"I have contracts with various companies for a cut of the profits from all Megamind merchandise sold, among other things."
"Seriously? That's not standard hero procedure, is it?"
"Being a good guy doesn't exactly pay well."
"Wayne never did that."
"Ha. Metro Man was adopted by a multi-billionaire. He has a trust fund big enough to support an entire third-world country, not to mention that all of his abilities are inborn. I, on the other hand, have supplies to buy, bills to pay, evil inventions to construct..."
"I thought they weren't evil any more?"
"Well, evil only to evildoers." His burgeoning grin faltered. "Roxanne, be honest, are you angry at me? For not telling you sooner? I know you always hated it when Metro Man treated you like a powerless victim, and I want you to know that isn't why I didn't tell you. I just wanted the brainbots to do a little reconnocense first. And, as I said, I wanted you to enjoy the holiday season before I threw this at you."
Drawing close to him, she cupped his cheek and looked sincerely into his face. "No. I'm not angry. Not now that I understand." She hugged him once more. "But from now on I need you to trust me enough to just tell me things. I can't be prepared if I don't know."
"It's a deal."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
She pulled away enough to look into his eyes. "I'm sorry I doubted you."
He kissed her cheek. "I suppose it's possible I could have handled it a little better."
She finally managed a real grin. "Maybe a little." She held her hands a foot apart. "Like this much."
"Oh, come on, not that much." He moved her arms closer until her palms were only a couple of inches apart. "Maybe that much."
"This much," she spread her hands even wider.
His mouth quirked. "Now you're just being unreasonable."
Despite everything, they both laughed, releasing the tension in the air.
"I'm glad I'm here," Roxanne said.
"Me too." He held her, kissed her brow. "You'll be happy here, Sweetheart. I'll do everything I can… I want this to be comfortable, and good… You like having your own space, and that's fine, but I want you to know that this is your home, too. Always."
She felt herself smile, although the expression lacked its usual confident strength. He wasn't wrong. Sometimes Roxanne felt she practically lived in his hideout already. Well, the past few weeks had been an exception. While the blue hero had dealt with a plot by the Doom Syndicate and the usual holiday season uptick in thefts, Roxanne had been forced to travel, first covering a rare blizzard in the Upper Penninsula, then a meeting of the newly formed Michigan State Disability Caucus in Lansing, and finally attempts by members of the state legislature to conceal certain business interest's tax frauds. She and her lover had only been able to steal occasional dates during her brief returns home, and he had spent one night in a Lansing hotel with her. Even when life wasn't so busy, however, the reporter and her lover rarely spent the night at her apartment anymore. Not since Ms. Farley, a sweet but nosy elderly woman who lived next door, had caught Roxanne out in the hall one evening and invited her over for what had turned out the be the most awkwardly embarrassing cup of tea in all history.
"Listen, Dear," the old lady had said amicably after a few minutes of small talk. "Between you, me, and the lamppost, I just want to tell you that I am really very happy you and our hero have such a healthy and loving relationship, but— I really hate to bring it up— but maybe three in the morning is a little late for… nocturnal activities? And… well… you might just ask him to be a little more circumspect about his language? It's only that Len Paszek mentioned that his little boy asked last week what all those funny words the Defender kept shouting meant…"
Megamind had blushed fuchsia when she'd told him, and admitted that one of his new friends on the police force had laughingly informed him they had received no fewer than three noise complaints from other tenants in Roxanne's building.
"He seemed to think I needed to be congratulated?" the blue man had said uncertainly. "He kept slapping my back and saying I must be doing something right?"
Roxanne had felt her own cheeks burning. "I… um… yeah, that's a… pretty normal human male bonding ritual…"
"Humans are strange," Megamind had informed her.
They'd spent almost every night at the Lair ever since.
"Sir, Code C and C," Minion's voice crackled from the vicinity of his master's left hand, disrupting Roxanne's thoughts.
"Code what?" Megamind asked into his wrist.
"Cookies and cocoa!" Minion explained. "Come and get it while it's—No no no! That is not a toy! Drop it! Drop it right now!"
A sound suspiciously like breaking china echoed through the watch's speaker.
Megamind and Roxanne looked at each other and laughed again. It felt good. "I suppose we had better go downstairs while the cookies are still edible," the blue hero said. "You don't mind, do you, Roxanne? It's just that— well, you know— Minion has planned out this entire evening, and it really means a lot to him…" he trailed off as Roxanne gave him his favorite knowing smile.
"Thank you and Minion both for planning tonight. Of course I want to be a part of it." She sighed, looking down one more time at the disturbing letter. "Let's just take a step back. We can deal with this tomorrow. Besides," she brightened slightly. "I wouldn't miss Minion's home baking for anything."
Megamind chuckled again. "Be sure to tell him that." With a dramatic flourish, he swept his cloak behind one shoulder and offered her his arm. "Now, Miss Ritchi," he purred in that tone that always melted her down to her toes. "If you'll come with me, please, I fully intend to spend the next several hours cuddling by the stove, if only I could find a beautiful, intelligent woman to cuddle with."
A small, very grown-up and professional part of Roxanne hated that Megamind always knew how to make her blush. The rest of her, however, adored it.
"I think I can oblige," she answered, linking her arm through his.
He returned her smile and led her downstairs.
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noonaduck · 4 years
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In the eye of storm pt.2
Pairing: reader x Hoseok /OT7 Genre: Superhero &super villain AU, Smut, fluff, angst. series. Warnings:  angst, gore themes Words: 4055
Summary: You lived in a world where superhuman abilities were reality. Around 15% of world population went through a mutations in their mother’s womb that scientists weren’t able to explain. These people with supernatural abilities were called meta-humans. Some of meta people decided to serve the world as superheroes whose job was to keep everyone safe. Like every coin people gaining superpowers had its down side. Because there wasn’t choosing who would born with extraordinary abilities sometimes the powers ended up manifesting in wrong people. Those people used their abilities for their own gain and the counter force for the superheroes was born. A/N: At first I’m sorry for the wait. i have been lacking the motivation to write so that’s why publishing the second part took so long. I wanna give big shout out and thanks to my new beta @s0seo​ . I don’t know where I would be without her patience to fix my grammar mistakes and her suggestions on how the plot should proceed.
1. < 2. > 3. coming soon. 
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[GIF belongs to it’s rightful owner ]
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9 years ago in Scarlet City
Min Yoongi was proud to call himself super. Even though he hadn’t  gained his superhuman abilities through  a mutation like other super humans, he didn't mind.  His  father was one of the leading scientists in the field of gene research following the discovery of the first superhuman. Their home was filled with  articles detailing the accomplishments and crimes of these super humans. Many of them were decorated with scribbles from both yoongi as well as his father. You could say that he was obsessed in figuring out the secrets of supernatural abilities. That was the main reason that he had spent most of his time in his laboratory focusing on his work. Yoongi's mother died in a car crash when Yoongi was only two. Although Yoongi couldn’t remember much about his mother, he could  vaguely recall the comforting scent of her hair and how patient and kind she was always with him unlike his father. Following his mother’s funeral  Yoongi’s father buried himself even deeper into his work than he had before, and Yoongi found himself spending most of the time with his father in his cold, desolate  laboratory playing with empty test tubes and befriending the lab rats his father used for his experiments. Dr. Min looked like a real life mad scientist with his too big lab coat, messy black hair, and half moon glasses that he kept pushing up his crooked nose. He didn’t ignore his child on purpose; it was just that he was always so focused on his work that he sometimes forgot that he even had a son. The lack of other kids' presence in Yoongi's early years robbed him of any potential social skills and later caused him to become an outcast.  When Yoongi was old enough he was sent to one of the strictest boarding schools in the country. He was often punished harshly for insubordination and  was often misunderstood, because he struggled with expressing himself in ways that didn’t make him seem rude. He spent countless hours scrubbing dishes and mopping the halls as punishment. However,  kitchen duty had its own benefits, and it was through those countless hours that he learned how to make basic meals, and was able to sustain himself and his father during school holidays when he was sent back home.During his free time Yoongi often buried his head in his comic books and closely followed the news about his favorite  heroes while continuously finding himself wondering if he was one of them would his father finally notice him? Yoongi had always had mixed feelings towards his father. He wanted his father to see him as someone who was worthy of his love and attention. At the same time Yoongi found himself becoming more and more frustrated with his father. The only things he seemed to care about were the super  humans he was studying and the powers that they processed.
The city was covered in a heavy blanket of snow, and Yoongi tried desperately to make his way through the buzzing city. Christmas was already knocking on the door, and panicked shoppers were running around like headless chickens hunting for their last minute Christmas presents. As he got close to the large building, he felt a shoulder ram into him from the side almost causing him to drop the plastic bag which carried a christmas gift of his own. 
After glancing angrily towards the stranger only to find him already walking away with his phone glued to his ear, Yoongi  let out a heavy sigh and watched a cold puff of air escape from his lips. He didn’t know what had come over him when he had decided to visit his father while he was working. When Yoongi finally reached the wide glass two story building he  frowned and felt snow begin to fall from the sky. It was getting dark, and the only lights in the building were coming out from the second floor where he knew his father's laboratory was located. Yoongi knocked on the front glass doors and a few seconds later a security guard appeared from his booth to unlock the door for him.
‘’Merry Christmas Yoongi.’’ The familiar old mad man greeted him while flashing a toothy grin. ‘’Merry Christmas to you too.’’ Yoongi answered back, his lips in a straight line. He had always hated the holiday season. ‘’Is your father expecting you?’’ ‘’No. I bought him food.’’ Yoongi raised his arm holding his plastic bag to show the guard. ‘’Ah that's good. I don’t believe your father’s been eating enough. He didn’t even leave for his break.’’ ‘’I see.’’ Yoongi nodded as the guard stepped to the side. ‘’Say hi for your father from me.’’ ‘’Will do.’’ Yoongi nodded as he  headed towards the main hall and ascended the stairs leading to the second floor.  He  walked  quietly through the dimly lit hallway, stopping just outside of his father’s door. He hesitantly reached for the handle and released a deep breath before raising his  arm and knocking on the locked door. After a few minutes, and a bit more knocking, his father finally appeared in the doorway looking surprised to see his son standing in front of him.
‘’What are you doing here, shouldn’t you be at school?’’ Dr. Min asked, confused, his mind already returning to his current experiment. Yoongi looked at his father and took note of his disheveled state
“He looks like a mess’’, Yoongi thought to himself. The  stains on his shirt, his messy hair, and the bags under his eyes spoke volumes. Not to mention one of his lenses was missing from his glasses. ‘’Christmas is in two days.’’ He responded dully. ‘’Really? I didn’t even notice. Well, come in since you’re already here.’’ Dr. Min said, stepping away and letting his son in. Yoongi wasn’t surprised at how unorganized his father's workplace was. ‘’I bought you soup.’’ Yoongi told him reaching his arm out to hand the bag to his father. ‘’I see, thank you.’’ Mr. Min said, his mind elsewhere as he put  the bag down near a metal table. ‘’Follow me I want to show you something.’’  he called over his shoulder already walking away, his face, lighting up and his hand gesturing to Yoongi to follow. 
Mr. Min led Yoongi towards the tables where the cages containing the test animals were held. He saw a white rabbit with red eyes and three mice sleeping in the cage next to it. ‘’Animals. Why we are looking at your test subjects?’’ Yoongi asked his father with a raised eyebrow. I might have figured out a way to extract the DNA from one species, dissect it, and place it into another species to expand their traits. ‘’Seeing only confusion on his son’s face he continued. ‘’For example those three mice are paired with the DNA of snakes.  I’m waiting for results now. I hope that I’m able to implant the ability to produce venom for these small creatures’’ ‘’Don’t you think that what you are doing is unethical. We shouldn’t mess with nature?’’ Yoongi questioned. Despite all he has been through he had high morals.
‘’Don’t you see son?! If this works we can soon create real life hybrids! Human’s with reflex like a boa and sight like a hawk! With enough time we could even create super humans of our own. just think about it, no more worrying about being too slow or too weak, we could make ourselves gods"  Dr. Min’s face looked almost lunatic. ‘’Do the higher ups know what you are doing?’’ ‘’They wouldn’t understand! just think of the possibilities! I’m sure you understand after all you  know how much this means to me! Before Yoongi could respond, one of the mice woke up and started coughing up blood. Soon the other two started coughing up blood as well. Yoongi saw that one of them had already begun to bleed from its eyes. ‘’The mice are rejecting the combination of the dna chains!’’ dr. Min yelled and pulled at his his hair in panic. ‘’What I did wrong!’’ Yoongi took a few steps back and turned away ,barely managing to reach a bin before emptying his stomach. Dr. Min, not even noticing his son’s distress hurried to open the cage of  the now dead mice.Yoongi glanced towards the rabbit whose breathing had started to hitch, and in the spur of moment  pulled the cage door open and picked up the shaking animal. The next thing he knew, he was running down the hallway  holding the rabbit to his chest as he faintly heard his father yelling after him.. The only thought in his mind was saving  the rabbit from the same fate that the mice had experienced at his father’s hands. However, what Yoongi didn’t know was that the bunny had already received an injection of something that would change both of their  lives. ~
You knock on Yoongi’s bedroom door quietly and step in. Heavy black curtains are pulled in front of the long glass windows and only light in the room is coming from the slightly ajar door of the ensuite bathroom. You walk next to Yoongi’s double bed and look at him with worry covering your face. 
 Yoongi is moving restlessly in his sleep and sweating heavily. ‘’Yoongi wake up.’’ You shake Yoongi’s shoulder and he wakes up with a loud gasp, his hand reaching around your neck in reflex to defend himself. ‘’Yoongi it’s me.’’ You rasp as you feel the growing pressure on your neck. Yoongi’s gaze is wild and unfocused until his eyes finally make their way to  your face. ‘’Y/N! I’m so sorry.’’ Yoongi cries out letting go of your neck, and you see a mixture of  shock and guilt covering his face. 
‘’It’s okay. It was just a dream.’’ You tell him as you take a seat on the bed next to him and take his still raised hands into yours. ‘’I could’ve hurt you.’’ Yoongi whispers quietly with an ashamed voice. ‘’Please,I was never in real danger. If I thought I was you would be on the floor right now suffering from literal and metaphorical shock.’’ You assure him as you rub his hands gently and ask. ‘’Do you want to talk about your dream?’’ ‘’I don’t remember it anymore.’’ Yoongi says, looking into your eyes. Even though his face doesn’t expose anything, something in his voice makes you feel that he isn’t being honest, but you won’t push it. ‘’Okay then, we need you in the meeting room. Namjoon wants to go through today's plan one more time. ‘’ ‘’I will be there in a bit. Can you give me maybe like fifteen minutes to shower?’’ Yoongi asks and pulls his hands away from yours. ‘’Sure. Come downstairs whenever you’re ready.’’ You get up from Yoongi’s bed flashing him an assuring smile and exit his room closing the door quietly. Your home was a penthouse  located on the top two floors of one of the highest skyscrapers in the city. On the first floor was the kitchen, living room, one smaller bathroom, and Namjoon’s bedroom which sat next to a small home library (not by coincidence). The second floor was made of a balcony that opened over the living area granting clear view to the space. On the second floor were 4 other rooms, three of them being bedrooms in use paired with an ensuite bathroom in each and the fourth unused room had been turned into a gaming room. Even villains needed to let loose sometimes. You start walking down the stairs leading to the living room when you hear a door open behind you. ‘’Y/N wait!’’ Jimin hurries after you and stops you on the halfway point of the stairs. ‘’Yes?’’ You turn to look at him over your shoulder already prepared to hear bad news. ‘’Nothing, I just wanted to go to the meeting room with you.’’ Jimin grins and you roll your eyes in response. ‘’Let’s go then.’’ You say with a little sigh and lead Jimin towards a wall where a huge painting hangs. The painting wasn’t anything extraordinary. In fact the huge size of it was the only thing worthy of any attention. The picture was a abstract mix of red, blue and yellow lines and shapes.  You touch the right side of the painting gently and a small hatch slides out of the wall next to the picture and reveals a small keypad. You type  in the code, and the painting swings open like a door revealing the small hallway behind it containing three doors. On the left side of the hallway is a door that leads into the room where you keep your gear, your suits, weapons and other objects used for combat. On the right side of the hall is your practice room where you have  some basic gym equipment and a large area  to train your skills. You walk straight past the doors on both sides of the hallway and stop in front of the final door resting at the end of the hallway which leads to your meeting room.  You push the door open and are greeted by the familiar space. The walls of the room are cluttered with multiple monitors displaying data, police reports, diagrams and other classified information.. what pulls your attention though is the big round glass table placed right in the center of it.you look across the room to find the all too familiar half moon shaped work desk thankful that it's placed right across the entrance.This table has even more monitors than the wall and is  the place where Yoongi spends most of his free time. The table is faced towards the door so Yoongi can  see whoever enters the room.  However, this time it's not Yoongi who you spot behind the table. Namjoon is standing up and leaning over the work desk rapidly typing something into  the keyboard while mumbling to himself.  You sit in one of the( many chairs surrounding the round table, and Jimin takes a seat right next to you. Noticing that Namjoon is still unaware of your arrival, you raise your brows at Jimin in amusement , and  he puts his finger to his lips to signal you to keep quiet. A wicked grin  makes its way to his face but is quickly replaced with a focused frown and furrowed eyebrows. You watch as  the half empty water glass on the spot where Namjoon usually sits at the table makes its way towards Namjoon. You can hardly keep yourself from giggling when Jimin stops the glass in the air right above Namjoon and begins to tilt it forward. Just as  Jimin pours the glass of water on top of Namjoon's head Yoongi arrives, causing Namjoon to look up and  instead feel the liquid pour down his face. Yoongi only smirks, quietly amused from the sight and takes his seat next to Jimin. Namjoon’s shocked face is hilarious, and a burst of giggles escapes your lips followed by Jimin’s cheerful laugh. ‘’Jimin!’’ Namjoon grunts angrily and wipes his face on his hand. ‘’Are you twelve or something?’’ Instead of answering Jimin answers between his laugh. ‘’You should have seen your face. It's usually so hard to catch you off guard with your hearing and all, but  this is hilarious. The mighty RM completely misses me and Y/N entering the room and finally falls victim to a prank.’’ Jimin wipes his eyes, breathing  heavily. 
Namjoon sighs and shakes his head in annoyance. ‘’Well, since we’re all here, let's start our meeting.’’ He continues and comes to sit on the edge of  the table across from everyone. Your giggles dry, and your faces turn serious as you all straighten your posture. You knew when it was time to focus on the situation at hand, and although Jimin liked to play around; he did too. Yoongi continues sitting quietly in his seat  taps the glass table with his nails causing small clicking noises to erupt through the sudden silence. Namjoon clears his throat  and the meeting begins. ‘’Thanks to Yoongi we have gained information about the whereabouts of the key. An armored convoy escorted by the Big hit’s private agents will be arriving in our city on the tomorrow night. At first Yoongi and i tried figuring out how to break into the van, but then we figured out that the van is just a decoy.’’ ‘’Are you saying that we were going after a false lead again?’’ You ask frustrated and squeeze your hand into a fist  already feeling your temper rising. ‘’No, but we almost did.’’ It's the first time Yoongi speaks since  his arrival. ‘’The real key will be arriving to the city on the 8:15 pm train from Sunside City escorted by three agents dressed as civilians. Isn't that the same time as the decoy?’’ Namjoon points one of the bigger screens on the wall with a remote, and a picture of a train car seating system comes into view. ‘’The problem is that we don’t know what the agents look like or where they are going to sit, but luckily we know its the fifth cart from the engine.’’ Namjoon circles the picture with a laser pointer and you arch your brows deep in thought.
‘’So how are we gonna find the key? Are we just supposed  to raid the whole cart?’’ Jimin asks tilting his head on the side. ‘’No,  that would draw r too much attention. We have came up with a better plan. Y/N and I will board the train in our civil clothes and pretend to be young couple.’’ Namjoon says, smirking. ‘’I have few ideas in mind how to get the key without being detected but I will return to them in private with Y/N’’ ‘’Are you sure that it's safe to show our faces in front of the agents?” you ask.
You know that you are capable no matter what you do, but you’ve never committed a crime without some form of disguise. Even when you were just a teenager breaking into stores in the middle of night you used a mask that you had stolen from a Halloween store. The irony of that was it was that the mask was shaped like a bat to represent a fictional superhero. ‘’I know that you aren’t the fan of putting your face out there but it's our best option.’’ Namjoon tries to assure you. ‘’Wait, won’t the guards notice that the key is missing?’’ Jimin asks. ‘’What's the point of revealing your faces if they are going to notice anyway that the key was stolen?’’ he adds frustrated. ‘’I was getting to that, but I’m being interrupted constantly.’’ Namjoon sighs brushing his damp hair backwards. ‘’I had to pay a long penny but I got JB to forge a replica of the key for us.’’ Namjoon reaches for his pocket and pulls out a small package from his jean pocket. You had heard of JB. He was the leader of a group called GOT7. Even though none of the seven members of the group had  powers, they were highly respected in the business when it came to possessing items or information you weren’t supposed to have. The group runs a blackmarket tightly connected to the spiderweb. Some people believed that their gang was the one who ran the organization on the spider web, but no one could say for sure. There was a saying that if you didn’t find what you were looking for in their hands; it probably didn’t exist. ‘’He made a copy?’’ You ask, surprised. ‘’Yes, Jackson told me once that when JB was a teen he was a forger. He was skilled with art, passports, and money. If there was something that would make money he would learn to copy.’’ Namjoon confirms. Jackson was one of the members of GOT7 as well as one of the few people Namjoon could call his friend, and in this business that was rare.  ‘’So let me get this straight. We are going to sneak on to the train as civilians, somehow switch the real key with  fake one, get out and pray that nothing goes wrong and leaves us  exposed?’’ You repeat slowly to understand everything. ‘’That sounds wonderful, I just have one small question.’’ ‘’Which is?’’ ‘’How we are sure that the BTS won’t be disturbing our plans?’’ ‘’I’m glad that you asked.’’ Yoongi answers instead of Namjoon. ‘’Jimin and I  will attack the fake convoy escorting the decoy key and cause the attention to fall on us.’’ Yoongi’s eyes flash with excitement. ‘’We are going to be a decoy?’’ Jimin smirks pleased.  ‘’Indeed.they went through all the trouble just to fool us, it's only fair that we have a decoy of our we should return the favor.’’
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What if moonshadow elves lost knowledge about themselves?
Hello, hope you have a nice day ! :D
(wait, is it day, for you?) hem! Anyway.
I was analylzing Moonshadow elves again and now I’m asking myself something, wonder what you would think about it:
Remember my “epiphany about the moon arcanum”?, when I said there’s maybe another side of their arcanum Moonshadow elves don’t know about? Something more life-light related:hope.
At first I said “they don’t know about” without really thinking about it. But, what if it’s true? I mean, what if there truly is a part they don’t know about their arcanum, or maybe forgot along the years? What if the war made Moonshadow elves focus so much on death-kill and all they kinda…. lost some of their knowledge about themselves? 
(I think I remember one of your old analysis (I think it was you, I can’t find it anymore), where you compared “young ethari” in the endcredits to the actual one. Where we saw him first doing jewelry, full of hope about life, and the actual one who let that aside to focus on the war) 
Add to this their community is described as “really close-knit”, which means more or less isolationism and so a stagnant, unable to evolve society. A society where the same rules were applied for centuries and so inevitably lost their deep meaning with time. 
I thought it was maybe exaggerated to think this way, but then I remembered the creators said there is 5000years of history in TDP. Even with longer lifespan, there’s no way elves didn’t forget some things with time. (I compare this situation to another one: some discoveries were recently made in egypt, and we learned that a few thousands years ago egyptian themselves re-discovered things they had discovered several centuries prior and forgot)
So I tried to find proof in the show and the novelization, and guess what? We have some! (or, well, it’s more my HC, but as I said, it’ just a theory)
I think this way especially because of Runaan, who was so sure there was “only one way to release”. But then, Zym came and cut Rayla’s ribbon. My personal HC on this is that only the life who was supposed to be avenged can release the assassin from the binding. It would make sense when you know Moonshadow elves “take life but they do not take it lightly”. But even if I’m mistaking, the central fact is that there is more than one way and, clearly, Moonshadow elves don’t know it (if the leader of the assassins doesn’t, then who could?)
What I find interesting here, is that Runaan recites this ritual at the beginning, about how precious life is, like a litany but the way he insists (especially in the novel) about killing Ezran even after he saw the egg, could be the proof it’s just that, a ritual. A ritual whose words lost all their sense, their deep meaning for his people.
Ok, it’s not much, but I think the combination of isolationism, stucking to rules without understanding them deeply and time, is the perfect recipe to lose your way, no? 
Oh, and a crazy other point in between these two theories about “hope” and “lost knowledge” woud be: If there is another aspect of the moon, other elves more hope-related (like Ethari or Rayla), why not another form?
Like sunfire elves have heat and light-being mode, Moonshadow elves could have something else too?. It’s probably stupid, I’m only thinking this way because of how Rayla feels while in moonshadow form in the novelization. It’s not that she hates it or something, but it makes her feel dizzy, as if she wasn’t suited for this. And if not, maybe it’s because she’s suited for another form? 
(sorry, I hope I’m coherent on this one, I’m a little exhausted and my thoughts are a little messy ^^’)
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Okay, @lily-lilou​, just let me catch my breath, this whole thing is a ride and I loved it. We definitely vibing here, fam.
whew
Okay, from the top, because I’ve had a lot of these thoughts myself and I’m so stoked to see someone else independently coming up with them!
Yes 100% to Moonshadows losing a part of their own history. (And yeah, I do have a post somewhere on Ethari’s evolution. Probably called it that iirc) If we’re right about Moonshadows having lived in Katolis before the lands were divided, living right near their own Nexus as the Sunfires still do, then when they packed up and left, it’s very possible they literally couldn’t bring everything with them.
I have a quirky little hc that there are still, to this day, Moonshadow villages hiding behind ancient protection spells in Katolis, and that people wander past them every day and have no idea. But it’s one thing not to be able to pack up your actual village. It’s another to leave behind records of your people’s past, their accomplishments and dealings and discoveries.
*eyes Lujanne’s truly massive library, with its huge walls covered in runes and books* This is where the full history of the Moonshadow people probably is kept. And no one has access to it but her.
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Those who headed east would only know what they carried with them, and what was handed down orally through the generations. But see, if my headcanon about the Moonshadow assassins being created at that time ends up being true, then that’s probably bad news for history and truth. When you create a whole new class within your culture, you need to bolster it with ideology. You use myth, cultural norms, and current events to make it seem important.
You tell everyone that being an assassin is the most honorable job there is. And then it’s suddenly cool to be an assassin. 
If there were no Moonshadow assassins before the humans were booted out west, then everything Runaan says to Rayla, everything he believes, is pretty young compared to his people’s full history, which he may not know, at least in its true and undistorted form. It’s an illusion. Rhetoric. Propaganda meant to hold soft elves who deeply value life to the hardest task they’ll ever undertake: taking that life from another, for a cause they cannot turn away from, a purpose they are culturally indebted to. Because their people, their princess (?), was the one who asked for the humans to be spared, and so every mistake the humans make from that point on is the Moonshadow elves’ duty to handle.
Runaan was wrong about how many ways there are to release. Has Zym truly been the only victim who wasn’t actually dead, in a whole thousand years? Honestly, probably not, knowing how politics works. But see, if you have an elite squad devoted to serving Xadia, and you tell them that their hands will literally fall off and they will die if they don’t do their jobs because there is only one way to release the ribbon they’re honor-bound to wear, they will take their target or die trying. And if you maybe exaggerated reports of the victim’s death for political purposes and actually have them in a dungeon, or they fled to the human lands as a refugee, or any number of other squirrelly options that Moonshadows aren’t naturally inclined to consider, then you can literally get away with murder-by-proxy. Or containment. Or intimidation. Or whatever your purpose is in taking out a human target who may or may not even be guilty of the crime you allege against them. It might not even be Zubeia and Avizandum’s fault. Unless they can detect truth and lies, they can be deceived by someone unscrupulous with an agenda of their own.
Long paragraph long, there are a lot of problems with the existence and practical duties of Moonshadow assassins. They’re kind of like the War Doctor: born form conflict, and thus only able to serve it, instead of peace. Yes, we all want Runaan to get his happy ending, retire, go home to his soft husband. But really, the whole institution of the assassins needs to go. It was born of war, and if Xadia and the human lands make peace, truly, then the assassins should be dissolved. As I said in one of my fics, Moonshadow assassins are Xadia’s dark magic, turning death into power. It’s gotta stop on both sides.
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One of my oneshots for January’s Ruthari Week played with the idea of Ethari having a moonform instead of a shadowform, because yes to elves having two kinds of forms in each culture! I would love to see that for all the elves. And if we use Sunfire elves as a kind of roadmap, with “sun” and “fire” being the heat- and light-beings, then maybe the other elves get their two forms from their names as well. Or so my headcanon went for that fic: a moon form to balance the shadow form, where the elf’s body can glow like the full moon. I didn’t really touch on what that form’s ability would be, but I suppose, logically, it would serve as a portable full moon, powering other nearby Moonshadows even when the moon was down, or new, or a small crescent.
Okay, that’s just fun. I like that idea a lot. The only time “just stand there and look pretty” can be used as a battle tactic!
I can see Rayla getting to have the rare Moonshadow power. That would make her a good balance for Callum and his unusual arcanum as a human. Part misfit, part superpower. It would also probably be a power that puts her closer to Ethari’s soft and protective attitude, no matter what the power really is, since the assassins in Moonshadow culture have clearly adopted their natural shadowy form as a mission tactic, attacking specifically on full moon nights. Literally any other kind of power is probably going to be softer, lighter, more lively and bright, in concept if not literally so. Maybe the other power kicks in on new moons? or is available at any time? I really hope we get a second Moonshadow power of some kind. I am down for all the extra worldbuilding!
Thanks once again for your thoughts! *fist bump* Moonshadow elves. You get it.
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localkatshelter · 4 years
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Okame’s Underbelly: Anticipation |1st|
(Shinso x OC)
Katsumi's POV (localvillageidiot#0870) and Shinso's POV (hecker#8339)
Summary:
 Two people with a common passion meet unexpectedly during one of Shinso's lowest moments. He'd like to forget it ever happened but Katsumi has her own reasons for not letting it go. Through push and pull, they struggle to understand one another, regardless they can't keep away from each other.
Preview: 
| How long have I been staring at myself in the fucking mirror? My eyes look so dead...but don’t they always. I realized the extra lifelessness wasn’t due to my overall apathy or shitty eyeliner; it was due to them being red and puffy. That’s no good. I hurriedly searched through the cabinet for my eye drops. They were usually used for another purpose, but today, they’ll be used to disguise the fact that I had been crying. |
(Katsumi's POV)
My head fell forward for the millionth time as I struggled to stay awake for the last five minutes of my summer remedial science lab. Why does science have to be so boring? This fucking professor always lectures for the full three hours too. How could someone possibly have this much to say about chlorophyll? All I could do was watch the clock tick by until, finally, the class was dismissed. I gathered my things as quickly as possible and headed towards my dorm building. Throwing my things onto the kitchen table, I immediately started to strip and headed towards the bathroom. The silver lining in having to come to campus in the summer for my remedial class? Getting to move in early and having the whole suite to myself. I showered quickly and put on my typical Friday night attire: some broken-in mom jeans that I embroidered and had a friend paint on paired with a comfortable faded band t-shirt I had stolen from a partner I had long forgotten the name of, tucked and held in place with some old belt I fished out of a Good Will bin a few years ago. I hummed as I put on some clear lipgloss and touched up my hair. Perfect. I made sure to set out some dinner for my fat cat who was hiding somewhere in my bedroom, likely in my sheets. For a supposed emotional support animal, I never saw much of her unless she was in the mood to cuddle, which was usually at night.
“Harley, I’m going out. I’ll be back.” I called out.
She meowed from the bed in response. I grabbed my things from the table and tossed them into my bedroom before popping my headphones in and heading out the door. I was on my way to the only place that made my summer Fridays bearable: The Squeaky Wheelhouse.
After a short while, I walked up to a dark and disheveled, yet oddly charming, building. This was my hidden gem, the highlight of my college career, a place where artists gathered to share their work and critique the world around them without fear. Friday nights were open mic nights for spoken word poetry, which I didn’t think I would like until I heard Okame perform. Their words about the plights of the world of heroism and comic book celebrities brought to life really resonated with me. Most of their pieces were critiques on how heroes navigate their jobs and how they are treated by the government, the people, and each other. I admired the way they captured the duality of appreciating heroes for what they are while also not feeling a need to bow to them as if they were gods. It felt so real to me, especially because around the same time I first heard their work, I had started my photojournalism blog on a similar topic. It was really just a love project at first. I would take pictures of heroes in the heat of battle and use them to show how human they really are. Honestly, I'm not even sure if it was me or my quirk that had the idea first. My hyperempathology quirk sometimes had a mind of its own. It was always dragging me into situations that I had no business being in. I always ended up manipulating someone's emotions to make them feel better, which had positive and negative results. On the one hand, I was glad that I could make someone feel better. On the other hand, it made me feel like shit because not only did I manipulate someone’s emotions without permission; I also absorbed the negative emotions I had alleviated. In a strange sense, the blog was my own way of alleviating myself of what I had alleviated. I had never expected it to take off either, but there I was, a month later, still taking pictures of heroes in their most desperate and vulnerable state in an effort to humanize them. I kept at it because, well, they are people after all. They aren’t gods, they have emotions, but the way the media and the government build a hero’s image doesn’t allow for much expression. It’s unfair to them; it's as if they aren't allowed to be people anymore. I had always thought I was alone in that, but apparently, I’m not. My blog has a pretty decent following now, which I am super proud of. Although I’m pretty sure that a lot of people in the hero community despise or at least dislike me for basically being renegade paparazzi.
Oh well. No one knows it’s me who runs the blog. The closest anyone has ever gotten was when someone traced my IP address back to the college campus, but Kyoto University has upwards of 22,000 students enrolled. There’s no way someone would be able to find me out as long as I don’t use my personal electronics to post. Okame had also become a popular performer at the Wheelhouse and had a sort of residency time slot on Friday nights. It was weird, but I was proud of them too. I felt like we were similar, almost connected by our mutual views and creative outlets. On top of that, they used a pseudonym and a ghost performer just like I used a pen name and hid my IP address for my work. All of the aligning characteristics made me think we would get along if we ever met, but that’ll probably never happen.
I walked into the building, waving to the Friday night staff that I had gotten to know over the summer. I took a seat on a comfortable looking armchair near the back corner of the main room that had a decent view of the small performance stage. I opened up a book that I brought with me to read until the performances started. I ordered a large mint tea and settled in, anticipating Okame’s latest insight.
(Shinso's POV)
I had bitten my lips raw at this point. There’s no way it’s actually over. We’ve broken up so many times before, and we’ve always managed to hash it out. But this time felt different. She wasn’t returning my texts with curt responses. She wasn’t posting about me subliminally on her social media to piss me off. She didn’t show up at my house with the gifts I had given her and dramatically throw them at me. No angry voicemails. No tears. No nothing. The strangest part was that her last text wished me well, even though I ended it this time around. All of it almost felt like a real goodbye. But still, there’s no way.
I had to talk to her tonight to make sure. Throughout our whole relationship, despite our arguing, we never missed a Friday at The Squeaky Wheelhouse. That was our way to ease the stress from the strife of the week prior. No matter how mad we were, we would still begrudgingly sit together and enjoy the show. By the end of the night, we would always manage to soften towards each other once again. Even if my piece of the week was bitterly aimed at her, she still respected me enough to put my voice out there and perform it for me. That’s what I loved about her. She knew attention made me squeamish and vulnerability was definitely not my favorite pastime. I shared the document that contained today's piece with her. It was an apology. She could barely squeeze those out of me normally, so she had to know I was deadly serious this time around. I tried not to envision her reaction or dwell on whether or not she would even accept my apology because it made me so anxious that I wanted to jump out of my skin.
How long have I been staring at myself in the fucking mirror? My eyes look so dead...but don’t they always. I realized the extra lifelessness wasn’t due to my overall apathy or shitty eyeliner; it was due to them being red and puffy. That’s no good. I hurriedly searched through the cabinet for my eyedrops. They were usually used for another purpose, but today, they’ll be used to disguise the fact that I had been crying. Save those tears for later, Shinso. She’s seen me cry even less than she’s heard me apologize. Numbness was the best blanket I’ve ever had. But tonight, I’ll avoid covering myself up. I need to show her that I care because I’m known to fucking suck at it. After I applied the drops, I roughly ran my fingers through my torturously messy violet mane, exhaling heavily. I tried to dress up a little this Friday. I know it’s trivial, but I want to be my best for her tonight. My outfit was made up of my typical dark colors, but I dressed it up with a black jean jacket, chelsea boots, and a few bulky rings that she gifted me but were too cumbersome to actually wear. What makes them even more annoying is that I’ve been fiddling with them all evening to distract myself, and let me tell you, it’s not working. I have another hour until I have to leave; I need a better distraction.
I plopped myself down on my bed with my laptop and clicked on my “The Underbelly'' bookmark. I always loved the irony of this blog served as an escape but also as a merciless glimpse into reality for me. My leg bounced as the page loaded—no new posts. Shit...well, it has only been a couple of days. I thoroughly looked forward to the new content because the author and I are eerily like-minded as far as hero ideology. Sometimes I felt as if I wrote a few of the entries myself. They’re the only person that I felt connected to on a philosophical level, and finally having that was comforting, to say the least. It was a bit taboo to criticize heroes so harshly because it was easy to be labeled as ungrateful. I’ve personally always felt like a great way to show appreciation is to continuously try to improve a system that everyone relies on. I guess people just don’t like to make sense. Hero work is honestly one of the few things I actually cared about, and to see people be so dismissive really pissed me off. Then again, people don’t really know I feel this way. I try not to let people get into my head too much. That’s why I created my Okame persona. I wanted to get my views out there without making it about myself at all. I felt it didn’t really hold true to the purpose of my message, with the whole not making hero’s these god-like figureheads simply for doing what’s right. That and...I hate when people look at me for more than a few seconds. My searing glare usually fixed that right quick. Quickly getting over the minor disappointment, I closed my laptop. Well, I didn’t have another alternative distraction, so I decided to say fuck it and head to the kitchen for some liquid courage.
I downed about two shots of rum. I was taking the bus there anyway, so it’s not like it mattered. I checked my watch, 30 more minutes. I wracked my brain for something to alleviate the unbearable anticipation as I blankly stared at the bottle of rum. Oh! I could pick up her favorite soju. It’s super strong, so we usually reserve it for a day where we don’t plan to do shit else but enjoy each other's company. But I feel like if we’re gonna hash all the bullshit out, we might need to be generously buzzed. Liquor store it is. I adjusted my collar before I headed out the door.
I decided on four bottles of the grapefruit soju because she really likes tart flavors. She always made fun of me for liking the sweeter sojus, but I’ll let her think she has the better taste tonight. The drinks were hidden away in a plastic bag tucked under my feet. I tried to settle in my seat towards the back as I checked my watch again for the fifteenth time. It was now 5 minutes after the starting time. Guess both the show and my girlfriend(?) are running late. My hands automatically began scratching at the already chipped polish on my nails. She’s been uncharacteristically calm during this fight; I wonder if she’ll stay that way once she sees me.
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raphaelbrcoks · 4 years
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RAPHAEL’S TWENTY-SEVEN HOUSE PLANTS (pt. 1)
PRESENTED IN ORDER OF APARTMENT APPEARANCE
1. devil’s ivy
name: henri with an i
horticutural fun fact: not only are devil’s ivy pretty to look at, but they’re also actively purifying the air around them, even when you cut off one of their stems and propagate them. 
background: “up first is henri with an i, who’s a gentle soul with a love of 70’s disco. he’s had a lot of pressure on his back to live up to the devil’s ivy title, but the truth is there’s nothing demonic about him and he’s never even dabbled in satanism (except for that one time in college, but he was just experimenting, really). it’s ostracized him from the greater devil’s ivy community, but i’m happy to offer him a loving home with lots of diana ross. he’s a great dancer too - come over sometime when it’s windier, he knows how to shake those leaves like nobody else.”
2. chrysanthemum 
name: jeanine
horticultural fun fact: both the flowers and leaves of the chrysanthemum are totally edible.
background: “this is jeanine, but you can call her jeannie. she’s a city girl, but she loves to romanticize quitting her office job and moving out to some ranch in arkansas with the cowboy boyfriend she’d pick up along the way. with that being said, she’s never actually seen a farm in her life, and i don’t think she even knows what a plow does, so it’s hard for me to be totally supportive of her aspirations sometimes.”
3. euphorbia ingens
name: greg
horticultural fun fact: even thought the euphorbia ingens looks like a cactus and has the pricklies to match, it’s actually a succulent in disguise. 
background: “greg thought it’d be cute to grab onto my favorite sweater the other day and rip it up, so he doesn’t get a fun backstory again until he learns how to apologize. no, greg, stop, i don’t want to hear any excuses. honestly, your habit of gaslighting is starting to feel really toxic.”
4. sword fern 
name: vienna 
horticultural fun fact: sword ferns are also commonly referred to as the “christmas fern” due to a large amount of its fronds being used for wreaths each year. 
background: “next up is vienna, who’s named after the billy joel song and not that measly city in austria, thank you very much. they’re weirdly into swamps, so if you’ve got any swamp-related trivia you need checked out, feel free to run it by them. i ask them sometimes, i’m like ‘hey vienna, if you like swamps so much, why not look into some swamp-based real estate? there’s gotta be some good stuff left after ‘08, i’ll find you an agent’, but they brush me off every time. vienna thinks some things are better left as just a pipedream, you know?” 
5. orchid 
name: piper
horticultural fun fact: even though orchids have been cited as one of the more difficult houseplants to care for, they can live for up to a hundred years if properly looked after. this plant was the only one raph ever got from his brother, and he’s managed to maintain it for the last sixteen years.
background: “piper’s very into the grunge scene, she loves to tell anyone who’ll listen that punk’s not dead. she’s a star on the bass guitar, and while she’s fine rocking out on her own, what she really wants is to find an all-female punk band to shout about the patriarchy with. piper’s also been trying to grow out a rainbow mohawk for the longest time, but her delicate leaf structure is making it hard to follow through on that.” 
6. peace lily 
name: reese
horticultural fun fact: the peace lily is named for its flower, whose white color symbolizes peace for many. 
background: “reese is really trying to get a law degree and get involved with environmental diplomacy down the line, but they just can’t afford to go back to school right now. in the meantime, they work a lot of jobs to make ends meet, but they can’t seem to keep one for more than three weeks - something about being easily distracted with a bad temper. they’ve also got a small crush on piper, which i blame entirely on frankie and murph bringing over their simp influence.”
7. english ivy
name: lina
horticultural fun fact: when the english ivy is left to grow in the wild, it usually latches onto trees, which it then climbs and shades out the leaves of, killing the tree within a few years. raph’s made sure to keep this one away from all his indoor saplings.
background: “lina is the youngest of four, but she’s the only one who consistently remembers her siblings’ birthdays. she bugs them a little about it, too.”
8. anthurium
name: juno
horticultural fun fact: both the flower stalk, which contains calcium oxalate crystals, and the sap of the anthurium can be anywhere from mildly irritating to poisonous when ingested.
background: “juno’s just trying to law low for a while, if she’s being honest. she went a little crazy in her early-twenties, became involved with the wrong crowds, got some blood on her hands that she can’t take back now. when everything finally caught up with her, she got off with two years behind bars after a messy plea bargain. these days she’s taking it easy, just baking a lot of bread and embroidering sweaters in her free time.”
9. fiddle leaf fig
name: carmen
horticultural fun fact: unlike the common fig, the fruit that the fiddle leaf fig bears, when grown indoors or outdoors, is not edible.
background: “here we have carmen, who isn’t paranoid, they just have a lot of important questions. like, isn’t it peculiar that those footprints on the moon were so well preserved, despite the lack of moisture? and how the denver airport is so incredibly large for no explainable reason? and that jet fuel only burns up to 1500 degree fahrenheit, which isn’t nearly enough to burn through melt steel? carmen's just got a lot on her mind.”
10. rhapis palm
name: richard 
horticultural fun fact: the rhapis palm is a strange breed of fan palms that actually doesn’t exist in the wild, but was created by chinese cultivators to exist as indoor plants. 
background: “richard’s prone to being a bit cocky about how tall and green he is, but with how hard he’s worked to get here, he doesn’t think it’s arrogant to be a proud of his appearance. what’s his secret, you may ask? he’s about to release a self-help podcast this upcoming fall, but in short: cardio three times a week, cross-training with weights every day in between. plus a well-balanced diet of sunlight protein, high-fiber carbon dioxide, and lean chicken breast.”
11. lemon tree
name: amelia
horticultural fun fact: the latest addition to raph’s plant collection via eddie’s birthday gift, the lemon tree can grow up to 600 pounds of lemons when grown in the wild, but raph’s lucky if he gets a few teeny fruits. 
background: “growing lemons isn’t just amelia’s profession, it’s her passion. she carries an advanced certificate in citrus cultivation from the university of toronto. she can talk all day about the ideal conditions for lemon development and the exact amount of sourness that separates an amateur lemon from an expert one. she even painted her entire home in a very specific shade of lemon yellow - somehow her wife puts up with it.” 
12. monstera deliciosa
name: ludwig
fun fact: the holes in the monstera’s leaves actually serves an important purpose, which is to withstand heavy rainfall and wind as they let the elements pass through the holes. this is also the priciest plant in raph’s possession, clocking in at nearly a hundred dollars for this high-end monstera.
background: “ludwig likes to think he’s a tough guy, something out of a holywood sweatshop, but the truth is he’s a huge softie. like yeah, he rides a motorcycle and he’s got a dragon tatto on his back, but he also still sleeps with his childhood teddy bear, loves the smell of fabric softener, and is a sucker for jennifer aniston movies. his favorite is that one with adam sandler in hawaii, which i personally think is in bad taste, but ludwig won’t hear it.”
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etlunainmorte · 5 years
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A short instruction!
Please, watch the video to get a full grasp of what V would be doing later on in the story.
Thank you so much and enjoy the latest chapter!
***
❄❄❄
***
*Chinese Black Tea*
Directions
1. Preparation
Before making a cup of black tea, you're supposed to get a clean tea set ( such as a teapot, fair cup, and cups ), tea, and a kettle of boiling water prepared.
2. Measuring Out the Tea Into the Cup / Teapot
Measure out the desired amount of black tea leaves ( 3 to 5 grams for 150 to 250 ml of tea ) and put them in the cup or teapot.
3. Boiling Water and Pouring It Into the Cup / Teapot
Boil the water and pour it into the cup. If a teapot is used, you're advised to fill 80% of the teapot with water ( to avoid spillage when pouring ).
4. Observing the Color and Smelling the Fragrance
Steep the tea leaves for 2 to 3 minutes. Then you're highly advised to observe the red infusion and smell its fruity fragrance.
5. Enjoy It
As the tea cools down, you can fully enjoy its delicious taste.
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*Chinese Walnut Cookies ( 核桃酥 )*
Prep Time - 55 minutes
Calories - 590
Servings - 4
Ingredients
120 grams unsalted butter ( 1 stick / 8 tablespoons, softened at room temperature )
1/4 cup granulated sugar
1/4 cup brown sugar
1 large egg ( beaten )
1 1/2 cups all - purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1 pinch salt
1/2 cup walnuts ( shelled, broken to small pieces )
Directions
Add butter, granulated sugar and brown sugar into a large bowl. Mix with a hand mixer on low until smooth.
Add 2 tablespoons of egg. Keep mixing until fully and combined.
Add flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt. Mix until it just forms a dough. Do not over mix. It is okay if there is a bit of dry flour left in the bowl.
Change to a spatula. Add walnuts and add them into the dough.
Preheat the oven to 180 degrees C ( 350 F ).
Line a cookie sheet with parchment paper or prepare a nonstick cookie sheet. Scoop about 1 and 1/2 tablespoons cookie dough and transfer it to the cookie sheet, 1 scoop apart from each other. You can also use smaller cookies by using 1 tablespoon dough per cookie.
Once the dough is divided, flatten the dough into a round disk, about 6 - cm ( 1/3 - inch ) in thickness.
Mix the remaining egg with 1 teaspoon water to make the egg wash. Right before baking, brush a thin layer of egg wash on the top of each cookies.
Bake for 31 to 35 minutes, or until the cookies are cooked through.
Remove the cookies from the oven and place them onto a cooling rack for 5 minutes. Then transfer the cookies onto the rack until completed cooled down.
You can store them in an airtight container for up to 3 days.
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***
"You said, please, say yes." You excitedly informed him. "And I said, yes! I'm going to the New Year's Ball with you, V!"
It took the poet a full minute before he finally realized what you were talking about. And when he finally realized what your words truly meant, his eyes slowly widened and his mouth fell open in shock. He grabbed his messy hair with both hands and spoke, "That - that's your answer, right? You'll go to the Ball with me?"
"Hahaha! Of course, you silly poet!" You laughed as you threw yourself at him, hugging him and placing a tender kiss on his cheek. Oh, how sweet you smelled. What a nice morning, indeed! "See ya!"
And before V could even reciprocate with a kiss of his own, you took your hands off him, waved, and went back to your house.
"Wow, I can't believe it! She said, yes!" Nico, who was standing for more than a few minutes just outside the house and witnessed everything, said. "Ya know what this means, V!"
"And what does that mean?" V, who was startled and embarrassed when he realized that Nico saw you kissing him, asked, his eyes landing dangerously on hers.
With a huge smile on her face, she went towards the poet, flailing her arms like crazy and sending most of her groceries flying in the chilly winter air just like that day when she found out that Avery commissioned him to drive the restless spirit out of her mansion. V took a few steps back but, he was not able to escape when he has come face to face with the crazed Artisan, herself.
"Dance!" Nico screeched, sending V's ears into oblivion. "Ya must learn how to dance! Just like,... "
And V, who knew exactly what she was talking about, gulped nervously and spoke, "Just like,... ?"
This made the woman's eyes glow with an unexplainable kind of energy. "Oh, ya know! ELVIS PRESLEY!"
***
❄ Three Wishes ❄
***
X
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***
"So, what do ya think, man?" Nico asked V when the video ended. "Ye can handle it, right?"
"Can you do that, V?" Griffon, who was flying just above the poet's head, chimed in.
"Master, can you move like that?" Shadow, whose large paws were on top of the table where Nico's cellphone was, added.
And V, who just saw, in full, excruciating detail, how Elvis Presley moved and wooed the female audiences who went wild for him, drew back and placed a hand on his forehead. "I,... excuse me. Before I,... completely,... lose myself,... !"
"It's too much for Shakespeare!" Griffon, who helplessly watched as Shadow went after V towards the bathroom, exclaimed. "Why does he have to learn how to gyrate and grind like Elvis Presley, anyway?"
Nico hummed, drumming her chin with her fingertips. "I have caught some news that (Y/N)'s stupid ex is attending the Ball."
"Ah! The douchebag ex!" Griffon added, trying his very best to ignore the pitiful sounds of V throwing up in the bathroom.
"Yeah, him." Nico confirmed. "And I bet ya he'll do anythin' he can to shame V in front of many people after what happened in the shopping district, now that (Y/N) has agreed to be Poetry Boy's date."
"Ah! What do we do?! We can't let Shakespeare eat someone else's dust!"
"That's why I'm pushin' him to learn Elvis! I'm a hundred percent sure he'll be a hit with the ladies, and Fleminger, being a huge Elvis fanboy, will surely like him. But, now, that seems impossible." Nico cringed, her nose wrinkling at the disgusting sounds she's hearing from the bathroom. It sounded as if V was emptying his breakfast of eggs, ham, bacon, and fried rice from his stomach in multiple sessions of puke, and she’s starting to pity him. "I mean, how virgin is that man, anyway?"
"Virgin enough!" Griffon snapped to cover up the truth that V have zero experience when it came to relationships and intimacy. "Anyways, look for somethin' less sexual than Elvis! Anythin'!"
"Alright! How about,..."
About thirty minutes later, V came out from the bathroom looking more peaked and weaker than ever before, like he hasn't eaten for a whole day. Despite that, he seemed determined to finally learn the ways of the King Of Rock.
"I'm ready." His voice, despite sounding weak, was laced with utter determination. "If (Y/N) enjoys such move, then I would gladly learn Elvis Presley for her. Anything for my sweet, little - "
youtube
Ladies and gentlemen, we've got a special treat for tonight!
I'm gonna call my friend Olly up here to sing to you ladies!
Olly!
Yeah!
Let's go, man!
Okay!
"Hey, man! Ye're just in time. Come here!" Nico called from the living room as some lively kind of music begun blasting from the speakers. The woman was also able to connect her phone to the television via a strange device ( V has learned not to question her regarding things like this and just allowed her to do her stuff ), and a few moments later, he found himself staring at the two dancers in the screen, completely mesmerized of their swift and exact, yet fun and engaging, movements.
My name is Olly, nice to meet you can I tell you, baby.
Look around there's a whole lot of pretty ladies.
But not like you, you shine so bright, yeah!
I was wondering if you and me could spend a minute.
On the floor up and close getting lost in it.
I won't give up without a fight.
V's eyes widened. The couple looked like they were really enjoying the dance! The movements looked snappy and hip, and the fast routine engulfed him whole in an instant! He even felt his toes and his fingers drumming to the beat of the pleasant sound!
He was interested! And this made Nico and Griffon nod in approval. Finally! A dance that was best suited for V, the mysterious one!
I just wanna, oh baby!
I just want you to dance with me tonight!
So come on, oh baby!
I just want you to dance with me tonight!
"What is this wonderful dance?" V asked as the routine ended.
"It's called Jive, V." Nico answered. "So, what do ya say? Wanna learn it?"
"Yes, please!" V answered with glee as he faced the woman. "But, (Y/N). Does she know how to do this?"
"She does! Actually, I think I've seen her dance that with Roman during his wedding party. You know, the day you wore that little lace garter on her thigh?"
Of course! How could he forget? His fingers gliding against your smooth skin as he slipped the little garter to your foot and wore it up to your thigh. And your shy, little smile and blushing cheeks as you looked into his eyes.
That lovely woman he thought he'd never see again,...
How could he forget?
And now that you have agreed to be his date, he will do anything to make that evening special for the both of you.
He will see this night through, even if it meant he has to learn some moves that could be considered out of his comfort zone.
He will do it for his sweet, little, beloved lady. He will do it for you.
And so, for the rest of the whole afternoon, V did nothing but watch Jive tutorials on the internet to learn the dance. With Nico and his familiars' help, he was able to learn it in only three hours. At least the basic parts of the dance, that is. With a few more hours of learning and practice, V was confident that he could master it in time for the New Year's Ball. He knew he will succeed and his hard work would pay off.
"I,... never really expected that I could learn something like this." The poet confessed as they enjoyed the snacks that Nico prepared for them - some Chinese walnut cookies paired with black Chinese tea ( she said it's for V's vitality, or something ). "It's true what they say: when there's a will, there's a way."
"Exactly!" Nico answered as she relaxed on the sofa, her legs crossed, and her fingers idly playing with the remote as she held the teacup with her other hand. "And with a few more practices, I'm sure ye'll snag the title of King! And (Y/N) will be the Queen!"
"I never wanted to earn that title." V confessed, taking a sip of the oriental style beverage.
"Why not?" Nico, whose eyebrows furrowed at what V just said, asked.
"Her happiness is enough for me. And her smile," V said, his own smile never leaving his gentle features. " ... is more than enough. Her happiness,... means everything to me."
To this, Nico smiled and shrugged her shoulders. "Of course. And I'm sure if it's you, she will smile. She will be happy."
"Are you certain?"
"Yeah. Wanna bet on it?"
V chuckled. "There's,... no need for that."
"Well, that's - "
Nico was interrupted when a portal suddenly appeared right before them. It was like - !
"HOLY SHEEP! WHAT'S THAT?!" Nico yelled, frightening both Griffon and Shadow, who were minding their own business in one corner of the room.
V, on the other hand, was not surprised. With a knowing smile, he stood and made his way towards the portal, waiting for,... something,... to come out of it.
And when someone finally did come out, Nico, Griffon, and Shadow could not help but be frightened.
"Just in time," V greeted the man who came out of the portal with a slight tilt of his head and a smirk. " ... as always."
"I'm,.... never late." The man with white, spiky hair and cold eyes answered.
"Y - y - you're," Nico stuttered as she pointed at the visitor. She was still scrambling on the floor with V's poor familiars. " ... Dante's twin brother!"
The eyebrows of Dante's twin brother shot up to his hairline at the way Nico addressed him. He sheathed his sword and decided to just let this blunder of hers slip through.
"Vergil." V greeted as he offered his hand.
"You still go by that one letter name of yours?" Vergil, whose presence alone was too much compared to the powers of V and his familiars combined, asked as he shook V's hand.
"Yes, and I prefer it to remain that way." V answered as he went back to his chair and gestured for his brother to sit opposite him. "You being here, I assume you've brought it."
"I'm not Dante." Vergil snapped, his eyes landing on Nico and making her even more terrified. "I always fulfill my duties."
"W - w - what's he sayin', V?" Griffon whispered as he grasped his master's shoulders in fear of the man.
"Master, he might hurt you!" Shadow added as she huddled close to V in fright.
And Vergil heard this. "What hospitality you bestow upon your guests!"
"Forgive them. They are simply," V apologized, and with one swift move of his hand, the two familiars went back to him in an instant. " ... awed,... by your presence."
"Intimidated,... is what you wanted to say." Vergil retorted.
"You know me too well."
“That is a vast understatement."
There was a momentary silence between the men, and a few seconds later, Vergil finally showed V the thing he was holding onto. It was an old and extremely heavy - looking ornate box that seemed to contain something very important. The half Devil placed it on top of the table and effortlessly slid it towards V. The poet carefully opened it under the eyes of the curious Nico, who stood behind him, and soon, their eyes were met not with some kind of treasure but of something that seemed much more valuable.
"Father wore that when he confessed his feelings of love to mother." Vergil explained as V took the old outfit out of the box to examine it. "And that trinket," V noticed the necklace at the bottom of the box and picked it up. " ... was his wedding gift to her."
"Wow!" Nico gasped in awe as V allowed her to touch the golden necklace with the most beautiful sapphire gem on it. "This looks really expensive."
"It is not only expensive. It is more valuable than you think." Vergil answered as he leaned against the table with one elbow and propped his temple against his fist. "You could even say it is more valuable than any mortal's life."
"I did not ask for this." V spoke with utmost sincerity. He only asked for Vergil's help with the vintage outfit. He never expected his brother to do more than just that. He was practically giving away their mother's most prized possession!
"And I did not ask for anyone’s permission or opinion to bring that." Vergil answered truthfully. "You are going to that Ball with the person you loved. If you have no intention, whatsoever, of letting her go, then you better do everything you can in your power to make her yours. Do as father did, and make him proud." And with a slight glance at the plate of Chinese walnut cookies on the table next to him, he added, "And that girl (Y/N) deserved that trinket more than Dante. He will only sell it to pay his mountain of debt, if I may say so."
"How could I ever repay you for this?" V asked as he put the trinket and the outfit back to the ornate box. "I,... don't earn much. At least, not enough to pay for something like this."
"You don't have to." Vergil answered as he stood and made his way to the center of the living room where he first materialized. "I've made myself clear. Make that girl yours and carry on a proper Sparda bloodline. If anyone should do it, then it's you. I can't trust Dante with it, after all."
"What about you, Vergil?" Nico, whose fear of the tall man in blue finally dissipated, asked, her curiosity getting the better of her. "Aren't you going to the Ball? You received an invite, right?"
"How did you know about that?" Vergil unsheathed his sword and pointed it at the ground, his eyes narrowed at the woman.
"Dante is a chatterbox, ya know what I'm sayin'?"
Vergil's eyes narrowed even more. "What else did he tell you?"
"Yer date dumped ya."
"Well," Vergil turned away from them, raised his sword high up in the air that it almost reached the ceiling, and made a portal that was similar to the one he made earlier to get to V's house. " ... if he really is that interested in that Ball, then I should go directly to him right now and shove those invites down his throat. Maybe then, he would learn that it is foolish to dive his nose on other people's businesses."
"I'm grateful for your help, Vergil." V simply said. "I truly am."
"It was nothing." Vergil answered but, before he could step into the portal, he turned around once more and strode towards the table, making it there in only a few steps due to his long legs. "Can I, ah, have one of those?"
It took V a few seconds to realize that Vergil was actually asking for some cookies, and when he nodded, the intimidating Devil Hunter, who lived a far more decent life than his own twin by slaying Demons and earning more money than him, gingerly took one treat, a noticeable blush creeping up his pale face, and turned around unceremoniously.
And without another word, he stepped towards the portal he made and finally left. But, not before V and Nico hearing the audible crunch of the cookie that Vergil just ate away from their prying eyes first.
***
❄ @la-vita , @dreaming-gamer , @clevermentalitybeliever , @birdgirl69 , and @v-vic . ❄
***
"Ya sure ye wanna watch that Elvis vid?" Nico asked as she stepped out of V's house into the cold weather outside. "I thought ya don't want it."
"I'm pretty sure." V said with a grin. "One song there actually,... lured me in."
"Ah, that song!" Nico thoughtfully said. "Yeah, that was nice. Well, be seein' ya! And don't forget to call if ya need help!"
"I sure will."
"Bye!"
Not a moment has passed after V closed the door to his house when Nico noticed your former lover coming out of your house, looking down and rejected.
And he noticed her, as well.
"What are you looking at?!" Christopher growled at her, making her draw back cautiously. He seemed really mad, and with the bouquet and the box of chocolates in his hands, it only meant one thing: that he tried to win (Y/N) once more but she rejected him. And this made Nico smile from ear to ear.
"Whoa, I'm not even starin' at ya, no!" Nico's sarcastic answer only infuriated Christopher even more.
"You, STUPID BITCH - !"
"AH, AH, AH! Don't try it." Nico warned with a smile, then, she pointed at V's house behind her with her thumb. "Remember that Red Grave Muckspout? The fat bird that tried to kill ya? It lives there now! Ya don't want it to hear ya, or else,..."
"Or else, what?"
Nico placed her hand on her hip and playfully waved at Christopher with the other. "Or else it's bye bye eyeballs for ya!" And with it, she trotted away, humming her favorite song on the way to her ugly white van with a neon sign in it that says, Devil May Cry.
Nico's actions made Christopher look at the house, and there, on that window, he saw the man called V examining a set of vintage clothing that looked far more exquisite than his.
Wait, vintage clothing? 
"Hey, V!" Christopher heard a shrill male voice coming from the house. V was not alone. "Ya think (Y/N) would like that necklace?"
"One could only hope." V answered as he took out an extremely expensive - looking jewelry from an ornate box on the table where the vintage clothing also came from. "But, for now, I want to practice more,… dances,… for the Ball."
"Don't overwork yerself, Shakespeare!"
"So! You're the one who took my (Y/N) away from me!" His teeth gritting in suppressed anger, Christopher threw the bouquet and the box of chocolates away and took out his cellphone from his pocket. Dialing a particular number, he waited until someone answered his call. And with fury - filled eyes for the man who was the cause of his embarrassment in front of you and your grandmother, he spoke, "I have a job for you,..."
You will pay for this, you, bastard!
***
❄❄❄
***
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Echoes of Mortality
AO3 Version
Relationship: Silence/Reader/Indulgence (OCs)
Rating: Teen
Summary: It's been a long time since the Lightwardens Indulgence and Silence have understood what it meant to be alive. Despite this, they've found feelings in but one fragile mortal who serves to remind them of who they once were, if only vaguely. It is through that mortal's kindness that they are anchored to the world anymore--and for them, the wardens would do anything to keep their mortal safe and happy
....even if it means they have to wait outside a city, allowing their mortal but a short excursion among their own kind.
More information: Silence (Samilen) | Indulgence (Khalja)
-
It’s late into the evening, though anyone may be hard-pressed to notice that by a simple glance up towards the sky. Where once-fabled darkness may have filled one horizon to the next, there’s nothing but washed out brightness that echoes across the thicket of ethereal clouds–it’s as bright as it would be at noon, with yet the only difference between the times being the mild chill on the air and a lack of people shuffling in the streets.
Despite the seeming freeze of time, mortals are yet stubborn to their habits.
‘I hate this.’
The words come unspoken from a form that stands under the eaves of a building, one of several that lay abandoned on the outskirts of the settlement, where next to nobody would think to travel–especially not when so many sin eaters were readied for any excuse to hunt. The form is humanoid, but it’s hard to pick out any detail beneath the thick cloak that covers their body.
The only point of detail that can be seen comes but in the moments when their hands slip out of the cloak and gestures in what some may know as handspeak.
A chuckle comes at a response to the silent words from the form’s partner, another cloak-covered shape that stands against the wall of a second building so close to the former that the two nameless forms are in relative shade despite the everburning light above them.
“And yet here you are,” the second form but purrs, having to duck their head slightly to be level with the first. “Though, I see not why you could hate these moments–do you not even mildly lust for the feeling of being alive again?”
‘I am alive right now,’ the first signs with motions nearly as sharp as the metal clawed gauntlets over their fingers. ‘It is mortality you speak of so fondly, which you are quick to forget all of the pain that came with it.’
“Worthwhile flaws, of course.”
A breeze flutters through the space between the two buildings, gently catching on the hoods of both shapes and offering but a glance at the faces hidden in darkness.
To the ignorant, both appear as if living marble statues. Their skin is pale, bleached completely of any color that may have once resided. It is so bright, in fact, that it gives off a vague glow, as if their very flesh is wont to revel in the very light they hide from.
The first form, a head shorter than their partner, turns a gaze towards them.
From beneath the hood, a pair of golden eyes burn as hot as the sun, irises laid upon a backdrop of ink that contrasts starkly with the empty white of their skin.
‘There is but one mortal worthy of our time and attention now.’
It’s hard to read the expression upon their face, especially when the words are communicated through silent motion alone. Still, the second form offers but another chuckle–the noise sounds inhuman, a rumble as strong as thunder that is somehow contained within their ribcage.
“You need not explain that to me, Silence.”
‘When your obsessions seem to lie elsewhere, I question that.’ The hard gaze of the now named form, Silence, turns back outside of the shaded alley. Searching. ‘I hate having to conceal my light.’
“You would do well to do it more often, my fellow warden,” says the other. “You would be far more comfortable with practice, and then you would be able to join  our dear mortal more often–how you not tire of that drab cave I haven’t the slightest clue.”
Even from beneath the thick cloak, one might even be able to see a faint glow rise and fall with the creature’s amusement.
Silence tries not to listen despite there being some vague truth in the others words. As much as he would like to deny any length of connection to his past mortal life, some habits truly could not be killed in the transformation that ascended him to he creature he is now.
A monster, some may even say, and Silence would not be one to disagree with the accuracy in it.
Still, the words yet catch on nerves. He turns his burning gaze to meet with a set of eyes, equally bright in the colors of polished emeralds. Though he is forced to restrain some level of fury in his motions for the sake of letting his light leak for form break, it’s not difficult in the slightest to see his normally-cold expression crack.
‘So says the warden named for his craven search of debauchery. Indulgence. I dare think you would even have your way with our mortal in the center of this town if they would but allow it.’
The taller of the forms says nothing, though the smirk along his snow-white lips is all the answer needed to confirm the accusation–as well as show for his infamous lack of shame in it.
It’s not worth a fight, though Silence assumes his fellow lightwarden is getting more amusement out of it than anything. As a statement, he crosses his arms within the sweet concealing embrace of the cloak, mind finally wandering back to the thoughts of the one mortal he and Indulgence were yet waiting on.
How long did they need to purchase food? Wasn’t all sustenance the same? It had been so many years since Silence had yet breathed air, so many moons since he could recall feeling a heartbeat, the warmth of the sun upon his now stone-cold flesh.
Perhaps that is where Indulgence holds truth. Maybe, in some regard, there is the faintest cloying desire to feel it again; mortality, being alive in a way that set him apart from his current twisted form. To eat and drink and enjoy the foolish notions of hope and courage and sacrifice.
Maybe, in a fashion, it is why his obsessive desire for the mortal runs so deeply. Why he frets over them, lusts for them, wants to curl his entire being around their soft and fragile form and keep the entire world from even tainting their soul with its cruel nature.
Indulgence may remember much of the good in his past life, but Silence too remembers much of the bad. The trauma, he pain, the endless cycle of death and sacrifice that made no dent in the history he sought to change. The shorter of the two lightwardens is glad that the other hasn’t yet asked about the guilt that yet lingers deep within his breast, an emotion that has never once left him no matter how long he’s existed as a blighted creature of holy influence.
It is as much his own emotion as it isn’t–Samilen Jawantal is a name he but barely remembers, just in kind as much of the man’s memories. They are there in his soulless body, but faint, like old dreams long forgotten in the hours of wakefullness. Silence is sure that his fellow lightwarden must have similar experiences to his past life as a warrior as Khalja Kahkol, but the topic has never been brought up for them to discuss at length.
And Silence doesn’t want it to disturb their mortal.
Still so gentle, so loving, so very fragile in mind and body both and yet with a glorious well of aether untainted by the twisted and deformed world around them.
They are the only reason Silence hasn’t tried to rid the emotions and memories through the spilling of blood. The only reason he hasn’t tried to cleanse the world of its sin, to swallow it entirely in the burning embrace of light. They are the one reason that mortality is yet a mystery to him, for how could such creatures birth such wonder and beauty?
For a once-man who prizes knowledge and logic and the knowing of all things he can wrap his timeless self around, the answer yet escapes him. The purpose, the reason, the point is beyond his godly grasp.
“Silence,” the sound of Indulgence’s vaguely inhuman voice catches the warden’s attention, pulling him from deep in decade’s old thoughts. “I believe they are finishing their lovely little errands of sorts. I can sense their sweetness growing closer.”
‘Then let us leave this place,’ Silence motions with his hands, the vague shape of Miqo’te ears flicking somewhere beneath the hood. ‘I grow weary of being near such a cluster of noise and futility.’
They leave from where they are hidden, timing near-perfect as you come hurrying down the messy dirt road, a full basket clutched tight to your body and somewhat overfilled with goods.
“Sorrysorrysorry-” your words run into one another so that it sounds like one noise, a look of worry laden in your eyes. “I know you gave me only a bell, but there was a new merchant in town and I got distracted and-”
“Shush,” Indulgence coos, silencing your words and bringing a softness to your expression. “A few extra moments of discomfort is worth the joy it brought you.”
Silence says nothing, nor does he make any motions with his hands. You may say that the warden looks annoyed, but it’s hard to say for certain when his expression is always rather unreadable with half of his face constantly hidden beneath a mask of metal.
He but looks at you with those eyes of burning gold, ones you once heard about burning men with but a single glance. Though you don’t feel even the slightest tinge of fire upon your skin, you do feel a blooming warmth in your belly from the attention–the weight of the gaze brings forth a great many feelings, if only because you can yet sweetly remember how the creature held you in his arms the night prior, promising you in the embrace of climax that you would be allowed an hour among your people.
Mortals, as the wardens oft referred to them.
His eyes linger for a moment, then flick towards your hands.
“What is it that you’re holding, dear one?” Indulgence asks, approaching you gently, his height seeming to tower over you even when in his echoed form. Perhaps it is the fact that he cannot change the lifeless white of his skin, or the burning brightness of his eyes, things that showcase their otherness even without their size, glow and ethereal wings.
You suddenly remember yourself and fumble for words.
“Oh! That merchant I spoke about–they….they were trying to sell some flowers they managed to grow and….”
Nervously, you hold out one of your hands; clutched against your palm are but two simple flowers, old names lost to time when so rarely are they able to grow in the nutrient-scarce soil. They are half-withered, but yet they peak with colorful petals and strong stalks that allow both Indulgence and Silence to see how they must have but recently bloomed.
Silence’s eyes widen for but a fraction of a moment at the gesture, but it is Indulgence who response first; the once Au Ra reaches his hands out to gently hold your fist within them, as if he was cupping something fragile.
“Your kindness is hardly worthy for creatures like us,” he murmurs, eyes half-lidded and staring at the flowers for a few moments. Despite how he touches your skin, you notice that he does not touch the flowers directly in any way. “We will find a place for them to live their last days when we return home.”
You feel heat start to gather over your cheeks, but you’re not given more than a few moments to consider the feeling before both wardens move; Indulgence takes the basket with a gentle care, while Silence pulls you into his arms though careful of the cold touch of his claws as they wrap around your form.
He doesn’t look at you as the wardens all but disappear into the light-washed lands.
Still, even as the two creatures shed their cloaks and retake their true forms, even when they appear not even minutely mortal, even as they glow in layers of ethereal light-bleached aether, you swear you can see the faintest touch of a blush somewhere along the top of Silence’s cheeks.
Though monsters as they may be, there was but a shred of who they once were still left–and moments like this prove it to you.
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      ▒▒mirror▒▒mirror▒▒
Salma’s office was darker than usual, the shades drawn, the room silent. The faint scent of overripe blackberries lingered in the air. On her desk lounged a lithe figure in a sleek pantsuit, her shirt half-untucked, her messy hair telltale evidence of some other intimate encounter. Her feet were bare and just graze the floor. She grined at Salma like a cat, as she flicked on a desk lamp, illuminating her face to reveal how shockingly similar it is to the one at the opposite end of the room. A perfect mirror image of Salma, she was, though she was far less upright and contained. She seemed pleased with herself, toying with a mouse in her claws. 
Despite her relative state of undress, her gaze is just as sharp as her counterpart’s, watching Salma intently as she leaned back on the desk. Then she unfurled and slid her feet to the floor like a twisting snake. She took long, languid steps around the desk, picking up papers and barely glancing to them for a moment before tossing them over her shoulder and letting them flutter to the floor around her. She did it again and again, her gaze on Salma, her smile sharp, unwelcoming. She says nothing at all, tilting her head as if to goad Salma into responding.
Salma’s initial frustration that someone was in her office quickly faded to a concern that her powers were once again uncooperative. He mind briefly flashed to a time in her youth when her her illusions birthed from intuition and desire (both rare traits in her today) rather than logic and purpose. She tried willing the vision away, the familiar tug on her mind falling flat as the scene before her remained as real as herself. Her eyebrows furled in annoyance, and she marched across the room towards the other her, abandoning her purse by the door.
She grabbed the wrist opposite from her, cold but eerily familiar. And, terrifyingly, real. Her eyes darted to meet ones she normally only met in a mirror, but these ones were sharp and amused, not scrutinizing and darting like her own. 
“What are you? Who sent you?” The word’s felt childish as she uttered them.
The mirror watched Salma all the while she approached, only going eerily still when their hands collide. Her smirk sharpened at the contact. "We're smarter than that," she purred, making no move to pry herself free from Salma's grip. She tilted her head, the second of the demands apparently piquing her interest. "I don't get sent anywhere," she said lightly, a razor edge lining the words. "Why should I listen to anyone's orders? Why do you? You're smarter than everyone you've ever met, and much, much more powerful. Why do you do what people tell you, Salma? Why do you listen to anyone at all?"
The questions were so honest, so straight-forward so...painstakingly like questions Salma had asked herself before, laying alone in her bedroom at The Lair. Thoughts and musings she had when she was alone, and most importantly, in secret. Why was that the first thing this...thing would ask her? Salma loathed not having an answer, so she tore her eyes away, turning herself to the mess it’d made instead. She worked around the stoic mirror-image, re-stacking pieces of paper, trying not to pay attention to just how out of order they now were.
The words ate at her, though. How could they not? “I don’t follow orders.” She began, hesitantly but with a firm tone to her voice. She avoided looking at the piercing eyes that followed her. She wasn’t used to being on the receiving end of her own intimidation tactics. “What I do is listen and to others’ when outside input is required.” She suddenly felt like she was in the courtroom, trying to defend a client’s actions and poor life choices. That didn’t sit well with her. She didn’t like the direction the conversation was going. “You’re the only thing I have no desire to listen to. I have work to do.”
The reflection took a seat square in the middle of Salma's desk, disrupting her organization yet again. "You went halfway across the world because a cat told you to. A cat. A creature that licks its own ass and somehow thinks it's superior." She scoffed right in Salma's face. "You're letting Daniel cow you, too, even though you're clearly the only one actually putting your brain to use. Insight better serves a leader than a bunch of idiots arguing around a table, getting nothing done." She leaned forward, inches away from Salma's face, her grin still sharply curved. "Oh, you do want to listen to me, though. I know things you don't, and I know you better than anyone. I have something you'll want to hear about." She batted her eyelashes. "But then again, maybe you're not ready for it. You do seem a little too..." She shrugs one shoulder, leaning back on her hands. "Tame, for my taste."
It was easy to ignore the taunting...at first. She had defenses for all of it at an easy grab, though whether this reflection deserved the explanation was still undecided. ‘Not ready’ and ‘tame’, though, those were two things Salma couldn’t stand to ignore. Those were two things she prided herself in not being. How dare this thing accuse her of being weak? She forced herself to meet the dark eyes again, to show she was exactly not that. Defiance masked the waver hidden in her voice. “What could you possibly know that I don’t? You’re not even real.”
She began to laugh, at first a low, melodic sound, and then it grew louder, with ragged edges. "I feel pretty real though, don't I?" she taunted. "I know that there's more to your power than cute tricks. You spent all week trying to fix the flow of magic in the world, but... Why? What is it good for if it can't run loose, or be used by you?" She picked up the stapler on the desk and tossed it to the floor like it's funny. How can she not be real? "There are ways to tap into it, though. Ways to realize your full potential. Don't you know? The Magician was once an alchemist, the most powerful of people, able to accomplish anything she ever wanted with little more than her will." Her fingers traipsed across the surface of the desk toward Salma's hand, her grin mocking all the while. "You have been letting the others get in the way of what you want, because you think you have to work by some kind of code of behavior. It's little more than a cage for someone they consider dangerous. And they should. You're more intelligent, more driven, more lethal than any of them. You deserve to be in charge. You deserve to be powerful. It's been delicious for me."
Realization hit her like a freight truck barreling down the highway on a slick road. She didn’t sway away from the encroachment of her personal space. Her mirror image had said enough— enough to make her realize she was her. She was Salma. A strange, twisted, dark version of her own desires. She was no illusion, no trick, no magicked game. This was very, very real. The only thing she couldn’t put together quite yet was...why? Could it be tied to the black outs? To the ley line damages? She yearned to learn more, now, that she somewhat mildly understood what she was dealing with. So she decided to play it’s game. She leaned closer. “How would my rank or power help you? What are you?”
"Think about it this way," the mirror said, her smile fading as her tone grew rather bored. "If you're me, and I want what's best for me, then why wouldn't I offer my knowledge to you? Why everything has to be so methodical with you, I'll never get." She slid off the desk and meandered around the office, pulling things off of shelves and running her fingers along anything in reach. "Why should I do this, what's the purpose of that, is it smart, is it valuable - blah blah, just say you're spineless and go already." She turned back to Salma, her smirk creeping back. "You're a magician, you know? Literally magical. You can have whatever you want whenever you want it with just a little bit of energy. Just take. Why does anything besides what you want matter? Who made all those rules you follow? People who don't have your power or your intellect. People who are so much less than you. It feels so nice to toss off the burden of their expectations and take, do, be what you want. Doesn't it ever tempt you?"
Salma felt frozen. Speechless. Something she’d rarely experienced in her twenty-eight years on this planet. Her mind was racing; an unhinged roller coaster of emotions that ranged from defensive aggression in wanting to defend everything Feiyan has done for her, for the Council. for the entire lifespan of humanity all the way down to, well, agreeing with her. It was enough to finally distract her from the mess that was her office, now realizing that was all a distraction to begin with. She didn’t know what caused the appearance of this mirror image, but she started to understand what it was; what it wanted. A personification of her worst impulses, of her darkest desires. It wanted her to indulge. She was adamant to prove she wouldn’t.
"Of course it tempts me, but power comes from control not wild impulse. I’ve always been who I wanted to be, regardless of the perception.” She even dared to take a step closer. Mustering up the confidence to match the reflection’s poise and posture. “So what's your point exactly? Other than to annoy me and trash my office?”
The longer she listened, the more her expression went blank, until at last Salma stopped speaking and she could roll her eyes with all the drama and grace she could muster. "Power comes from control... That's rich. Who told you that, The Ancients? The Constitution?" She barked a laugh devoid of any good humor. "Control is what they teach pretty little girls to have when they're afraid of what would happen if that girl just shrieked and clawed her way out of their tidy box for her. Control is what keeps you in line. Are you the interim leader directing everyone to find Fei? No, because you've bowed to due process instead of just taking charge, even though you know you'd get it done. Have you realized you have so many more powers beyond mere illusion? No, because all this control and rules nonsense has kept you in your place, like it's meant to do. Are you even with the one person you can actually stand?" Her tongue snaked out of her mouth, sliding along her teeth slowly. "Despite all the evidence suggesting all you'd need to do is step up and go after what you want, you can't even have her, the easiest thing in the world to reach. So what are you doing, Salma? What's the point of having you here at all?"
A lump formed in her throat, the gusto Salma had managed to rile up lasted for one mere verbal volley. Were she one to blush, she might have done just that. Instead, her lips pursed shut and her eye contact faltered. She was pissed. At herself and at how right this thing was, despite her knowing that it was only trying to get a rise out of her. Well, it was working, and it seemed like there was nothing she could do at this point could stop it. Every tactic she’d tried had been met by a brick wall; by an unstoppable force. Her body language didn’t do much to hide that, either.
A wicked grin flashed across the mirror’s face when Salma wasn’t looking, and then she leaned over the desk on both hands, too close for comfort. "Do you want to know what I did?" she asked lazily, the words dripping off her lips. "The rules, the games, the waiting... They just got in the way of what I wanted until I got tired of it. Of watching her shake like a nervous little dog in my presence because she wanted me that badly. So I walked right up to her and just took that kiss I'd been craving." She tilted her head, exposing both the length of her throat and her teeth. "It was what she'd wanted too, after all. For me to just take control. You could have that too, if you stopped being so weak and whiny about it all. Or do I need to help?" She loosed a laugh from somewhere deep and dark within her. "I'm sure your Lailani is no different. This whole Council, really. Just take your rightful place and see how good, how right it feels."
Yet another thought the reflection voiced that Salma had already pondered. One too many times, and too heated and private to admit. The problem was, that she never felt that she’d have time or interest for frivolities like that. All the boys and girls in any school she’d gone to had seemed silly and childish; it was far too easy to focus on studies rather than crushes or pretty faces. Then she was thrust into a world of magic, a house on an island masked by powers of her own making. She, yet againm had something to distract her from the warmth in her chest whenever a nervous and sweater-clad, dark-haired, genuine sweetheart smiled at her. What was holding her back? What was stopping her? This was too many times her other self was right. She didn’t like it.
So she deflected.
“It’s all a moot point when Feiyan returns. The power grab is a temporary distraction.”
"If." She watched Salma, unblinking, her pupils shrinking. "Didn't you hear what that furry mongrel had to say? She's hurting, Salma. She's in pain." Her words twisted with a singsong mockery. "And nothing is going to change that if you don't." She shrugged, straightening and heading slowly for the door, tossing a pointed look over her shoulder once she's there. "You're the only one with the capacity to do what has to be done, but I'm starting to think you simply can't. It's a shame. I thought you were more like me... I shaped my whole world the way I desired. Here you are, stuck in yours, practically insignificant, and all but completely alone." She sneers. The bulb in the desk lamp burst, showering the surface of the desk with glass that is very much not an illusion. "Pathetic. I expected better."
Salma flinched at the sudden noise and darkness, her eyes slamming shut in fear of flying glass. Her mind wandered in that short moment, flashing from Marcella to Justice, to even Daniel if he applied himself. For once the mirror image was wrong. She wasn’t the only one with power to continue to guide the Council. She wasn’t even the only one outspoken enough to say so. She opened her eyes again, staring after the now shrouded figure, longing to prove it wrong, but her mouth felt dry, and her mind moving too fast to form words. A large chunk of her mind not being able to shake the visual of marching up to Lailani and stealing a kiss that she’s craved for seven years. So instead she just watched as the figure waited, perhaps expecting some kind of response, or for Salma to beg her to come back, but nothing comes. 
It's not unexpected - she always was stubborn, after all. 
It walked right out the door and didn’t look back, disappearing into smoke and shadow as soon as she's out of Salma's sight.
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cutiecrates · 5 years
Text
Cutie Reviews: Yume Twins Feb 19
Hello! Welcome to the February boxes :3 I love Valentines Day (even if I celebrate it on my own...), the chocolate, all the PINK, glitter, hearts!
It’s so lovely~
Plus you can get some really good chocolate on sale :P
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Anyway, let’s get started!
“Happy Valentines YumeTwins family! The season of love is here! Whether you’re all loved up or a single pringle, we’ve made sure this month’s box is as lovely as you are! With this month’s theme being Spoil Me Sweet, we’ve really gone all out with the items this month to make sure you’re feeling spoilt! Think of it as a Valentine’s gift from your not so secret admirer, YumeTwins! As always, your box is full to the brim with kawaii goods that are both practical and cute! And of course we really hope you enjoy these kawaii goodies as much as we enjoyed creating this box for you!“
Contest
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this month, the contest was to use the included straw and make a cute drink with it, then take a picture and upload. The prizes were oddly Mario-themed, but who doesn’t love Mario right? x3
Look at the adorable Boo plushie for first place, but the runner-ups also get a really fun looking Mario balance game.
Yume Prize
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For this month, we get some Badtz Maru and Sumikko Gurashi items. There’s a fair bit of contrast between these two sets of items, which makes it interesting doesn’t it?
Sanrio Straw
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I decided to start with an item I already have, sorta. For any long-time readers/viewers, you might recall the My Melody straw I got several months back from a box. I was a little sad because Hello Kitty is my favorite and I’d have preferred getting her when she’s an option, but this time I did :D so now I have both~
Okay so... because this is a straw, I don’t really have much to say about it... But I will say that My Melody is holding up fine and it’s really fun to drink with- and I feel the same way about this one; although Hello Kitty’s tubing is less complex and stuff gets through it more easily/quicker.
If you see these I’d recommend them.
Kawaii Pen Clip
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Speaking of Hello Kitty, our next item is this pretty looking “Pen Clip“. A Pen Clip is an item you put a pen in, then you attach it to things like notebooks for easier finding later. For this box, there was 9 possible characters, ranging from some Sanrio, Kirby, and Doraemon. Most of them are solid gold like this, but there was a few that were colored too.
I was looking at the package, and oddly enough this specific item is worth 10 Sanrio points. The straw was only 3. I assume it has to do with the price or something, because I’ve had plush only be worth 1-2 points.
Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ 
I would have been happy getting any of the possible options honestly, but as  Hello Kitty girl I’m very happy~
Meanwhile, I’ve never actually seen a pen clip before so I was pretty interested in this unique item. I’m not sure its ultra-necessary, but I do like the option to have and use it. I do carry some pens in my purse but it’s really rare I actually use it- and it’s usually just to lend it to someone else who can’t find their pen. But, I do have other locations where it could be pretty helpful, so I don’t doubt I’ll use it.
The quality on it is also really nice, and it easily slides onto things to “clip it on“.
Kirby Mini Pouch
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Our next item is an ultra-cute little zippered pouch with ball chain. It features a clear enamel material and an adorable Kirby face on the front, or Waddledee as you can see I got. Besides him, we could also get 2 different Kirby’s and a Meta-Knight.
Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
Not only do I love how it looks, but it would also be very practical. You can use it to store things you might easily lose like hair items, or if you need something to take something off (like a ring or necklace) and store it in, candies, little things like hand sanitizer and eyedrops; the ideas are endless!
The only problem is, the pouch is stuffed with a plastic sheet, so if you’re concerned about its shape you might want to leave it in when not in use. I also noticed my Waddledee has a “messy face“ (which isn’t really noticeable in the pic at all, in real life he has some smudges and color fading), and this type of material can become problematic if it gets wet and is left to dry against other items.
I had to learn that the hard way with an umbrella...
Kawaii Money Box
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Like the previous box I just did, we get another money storage container! For this month, we’re looking at 7 possible Sanrio characters in total to collect, and because of their cute lego-esque shape they can be stacked. It is divided into 2 sides, both of which separately hold money, and at the bottom of the bank are removable plugs.
Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ 
Okay so... I’m pretty much rating it so well because I know it works, and because it’s really cute. I could see buying a couple just to use as room decor, which is probably what I’ll do for now. I just don’t have a use for it right now, I already have other ones and not everyone uses them as it is.
As an adult it’s a lot harder to save up money...
Cute Pet Eco Bag
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This box is becoming more repetitive the more I go through it I find... Not only do I have a matching-ish towel (pretty sure it’s the same brand), but I have several other eco bags. But I do really like to use them so I’m not that disappointed, it always helps to have a few in case one gets dirty, or if one would suddenly break, or go missing.
This one also has some differences from my others. It doesn’t come in a cute little buttoned mini-purse, nor does it have any sort of buttons or Velcro to keep it shut. However, it actually folds in on itself to become this sort of... wallet-like shape when not in use, which you an see in the picture. I didn’t realize that when talking it, or else I would have un-folded it.
It also has a flap hanging on it you can use to sort of keep it shut, or keep it on the inside of the bag to carry smaller items like your phone, money, card, or things like candy or something.
Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ 
Personally, I’m not in love with the color or design, it’s cute though. It’s also very useful as I already said, but because I already have a handful of these I decided to lend it to my mom instead. She has a bag she’s really fond of, but I thought it would be nice to give her a backup.
The quality of the bag is really nice, but it feels flimsier than my others. I’m not really sure if that will be problematic, or if it’s just nicer material used to make it. It feels smooth and soft, not “crunchy and stiff“, and I love the flap they attached to it. I’ve never seen one with that before.
Gudetama Sweets Plushie
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Our last item is this Sweets-themed Gudetama plushy, either the ice cream one I got, or a donut one; both are worth 20 Sanrio points and are quite big!
Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ 
Well looking at them both, I think they are very sweet and adorable, especially if you’re a Gudetama fan or know someone who is. The detailing on it is very clear and clean, and it’s completely stuffed with cotton or fluff, giving it a stiff, but squishy feel.
And yes, his butt is visible on the back. I’m not sure about the donut version though.
♡ Cutie Ranking ♡
Content - 4.5 out of 5. All of the items have some nice detail, there was no flaws. I loved the practicality and how everything was varied, so everyone probably got something different as a whole, but as I mentioned I found it to be a little repetitive. A little. Like I got three banks now because of this one also giving us one, but out of them all I find this one less-versatile, I already got a sanrio straw, eco bags... nothing really excited me in this box.
Theme: 1 out of 5. I don’t really see the theme at all except or the Gudetama tag, which says spoil me sweet. The box doesn’t give me a valentines day or the feeling I was spoiled by items because this is the box’s normal quality anyway. I suppose you could give the items to others as presents, but that’s not really spoiling you as much as it is them... but there are people who might be like “hey I needed a coin bank, and this pen clip is terrific! They really spoiled me~“ so that isn’t to say nobody sees the theme of the box...
Total Rank: 7 out of 10. I pretty much feel about this box the same way I feel about the previous one. But I actually liked the items a bit more. I’m not really sure which one I’d say would be more worth it though, I think they both served their cunique purposes and provided practical items.
♡ Cutie Scale ♡
1. Gudetama Plush - I was pretty sure it would be my most favorite of the items I got. It’s not the most cuddly (awkward shape and all), but it’s very cute and as I’ve said before numerous times, I really like food-based items and the fact he looks like a food makes him extra-kawaii~
2. Kirby Pouch - I like clear enamel-like items such as these, and I think it’s really cute. My mood has been ruined since I started writing this, but I found looking at Waddledee perked me up a little. He might not be as cute as Kirby, but I feel a little better- and I can use him to store the candy I keep in my bed-side stand.
3. Hello Kitty Straw - I mean sure, it’s pretty plain in comparison to the other items. But I love how cute it looks, and I’ve been using it a lot as of late, much like I was using the My Melody one frequently when I got to it.
4. Eco Bag - It’s really cute and I love using these but I’m turned off my the dark green color. It’s just not my thing, I’d rather use my much lighter colored ones. But I do like its uniqueness from the others.  
5. Pen Clip - It’s pretty rare to find nice metal items in these boxes. I’m not sure of the quality or anything, but I like it. The Hello Kitty I got is in a generic pose, but as she’s holding a pencil anyway, I like how it goes with the clip.    
6. Bank - I think it’s pretty cute and I love the idea of getting more to stack them and stuff, but it’s not going to happen. I’m not sure I’ll ever use it.
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icefir-windbreaker · 6 years
Text
All-Stars -Story Mode- [CHAPTER 12] EDITED
This took me a day to write it so enjoy!
Edited on:
3/26/2019
4/4/19
4/26/19
                                                      -Chapter 12-
Bendy had finished up the soup a little bit later, nothing but an empty can with droplets of what’s left of the soup and now something he could throw away but something in him had said that it might be something useful. So he had cleaned it in a nearby creek far from his current place of rest, putting in his rucksack and then carries on his journey to rescue them.
He looked around the ruined streets of the city, he crossed the broken and rusted trolleys that is near deep in flood water and now serving a purpose as a bridges instead of transportation as people once used.
He was still shaken up from his encounter with Baldi so whenever danger is nearby; zombies, Helghan troops or something else here in this Fallen City, he will reduced himself into a puddle of Ink and wait, hoping for the best if they gone away.
He looked at the posters that were left behind by the city’s residents and it’s nothing too special like the daily news, the politics and other, other, other things that didn’t interest him and he sees that there was a camp, just not abandoned but recently had been abandoned long before he came. It’s a military camp with a white and blue umbrella logo on each tent he passed by, he looked inside each tent and there are leftover equipment for doctors and soldiers in them and still waiting to be used.
“This is too creepy…” Bendy muttered to himself, “who would leave all of this behind, I guess it might’ve been because of zombies…”
That reason might be possible but there’s no way to confirm it, that’s when he checked another tent and what he found inside is not just equipment this time: a dead body of a soldier with flies swarming all over it, he gagged and looked away from the scene before him.
“Yeep,” he babbled, “Property zombies that had been here.”
He then left the tent and goes straight out of the camp and into a much more messy street with a ruined and crashed plane with wrecked vehicles and nature has already began to retake it’s land with long grasses and flowers blooming. The wind howled softly through the main street, birds are singing while the crows are cawing their awful song as some of their kind are eating the leftover corpses that were once soldiers when the sun is peeking through the soggist clouds.
Then they were flown away when Bendy had landed on both of his feet after climbing over a bus, then he looked around for anything that is undead.
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Staying Alert (Background is Destroyed City from Mortal Kombat Wiki)
Bendy is very much on high alert towards the surroundings as he felt nervous. “I better find and rescue Boris and others fast or I’ll end up a prisoner like them if Helghan-something finds me.”
He walked down the broken road as he looked around cautiously, he then stopped when he looked at a roadblock; a quarantined, walled-up barricade with a word, just one word that can describe what was behind the roadblock:
“Bi☣hazard”
on it but with the the “Biohazard” symbol acting as an “O” for its name, he sighed heavily as he felt it is dangerous but it may be only shortcut he got to the Helghan Base and more worse for it; he had to go in without protection against the life-threatening bio-terror. Even with one fall smooth will-
“THANKS!!! I GET IT!” Bendy yelled at the writer who was writing this story (And that writer is me. ;n;)
Bendy then climbed on top of the roadblock and then lands onto the ground once again like he did with the bus then looks at the path before him. He groaned as he can smell the stench of death coming from another walled off area with a door that looked weak enough to break before stating “I don’t know why I had agreed with Knight to go on a rescue mission like this.” before proceeding on his way.
The wind blows through the ripped cloth on the ceiling of the opening into the tunnel, he looked at the procedure signs like “Please get your ID ready,” “Anyone infected must be contain and quarantine immediately,” “Remember: Washing hands saves lives!,” and “Medical help will be with you quickly for any injuries and make sure they are 100% cleaned.”
“Boooring!” Bendy thought as he looked at the signs while he walked by them, when he reached the chained-link metal door, reached for the handle and tried to open it but it was locked.
“Like that’ll stop me” Bendy said to himself as his gloved hand had turned into a claw with two holes in it and then tore the chained-link metal door apart. The Dancing Devil smiled as he threw what was left of the door onto the ground, then walked right in through the door and into another area, he saw several food crates on a red truck that had been sitting in the entrance of the tunnel. As well with a box of bottled water beside it.
“Some food is good for the health and as well with staying hydrated.” he said as he goes over to the truck, opens his rucksack and then takes what he needs for himself and his friends.
*You’ve collected 4 canned soups (Soups of Bacon, Beef, Shrimp and Chicken)! *You’ve collected 6 bottles of water! *If you are ever injured or just hungry and dehydrated, select them by opening your (or the PARTY’s) Rucksack(s)!
“Okay then… Thank you for a joyful tutorial, Text.” Bendy said as he looked at the text under his feet and then watched it disappeared before him no less than a second. “And speaking of texts, I need to get moving!” he declared before walking forward for the tunnel’s entrance but before he knew it; the surroundings around him is getting darker by the minute, he looked around the area as it had darken area and he could hardly see a few medical tents, several ambulances, medical kits and weapons and droplets of crimson red on the road.
“I think that there’s been evacuation going on, but had everyone been able to escape?” the Dancing Devil thought aloud as he looked around then he finds a flashlight on a wooden crate, he picked up and looked at it. The lens are cracked a little but it still has fresh charged batteries in it.
*You’ve obtained a Broken Lenned Flashlight!
“I hope you’re useful.” Bendy muttered as he turned it on, easily he looked around the area with much clearer with light now and, like the devil had revealed himself again, there are two corpses on the ground with flies flying all over them.
He groaned in disgust and then turned away from the bodies as he walked into another section of the tunnel as the flashlight has shined on the signed that read “Warning! Bi☣hazard” then another signed that read “Infected! do not contact nor talk with the quarantined individuals who are being check for the virus as you are going to the exit in single file, the antidote will be heavily administered immediately after you’d exit, thank you and have a nice day.” and then he shined on the one thing that he really doesn’t want to see: a Zombie, groaned after the light had shined on it.
Bendy gasped as he accidentally backed up to a backup power generator and turned it on, the portable work lights lit up to life to reveal a scene before him:
Inside a chain-linked fence were a horde to horde of zombies, rotting, groaning, screeching, snarling and stumbling around with orange-red eyes glowed softly in the dark.
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Bendy discovering the Horde of Zombies The fence is acting as a cage to keep the undead inside as Bendy looked at them as they glared back at him, hungry, more hungry than angry after being inside the rusting fence for quite some time.
Bendy, is able to break himself out his state of shock before running through the pathway through between the sides of the fences with zombies looking at him, snarling and growling as he ran by. He had found a torn truce flag with a message left behind in blood.
“I'm tearing up our truce flag.”
Then a song is beginning to play on the speakers of the tunnel, for Bendy to listen what it was going to sing.
Why do you still look at me Like I belong to you?
It's like you won't let me go No matter what I do
“Oh… Boy! Oh boy! Crap crap crap!” Bendy said to himself as he found a nearby sludge hammer so he can use as a weapon. He franicity looked around and see a couple of zombies coming his way.
You must be a parasite Or some sick disease Your fingers wrapped around my throat, Suffocating me
Bendy swings the hammer as hard as he could at the first zombie and he felt an impact the hammer had made on its skull and it had gone down easily, he looked over to another zombie as it had gone over to him with arms outstretched for him.
I'm running, running, running, running, Fast as I can
But I'll never get away from you If I'm still breathing
Bendy swings the weapon back to his side and does a spring attack on the 2nd zombie and he had saw its head gone flying and hits a wall behind it. “D-Did I do that?” he asked out of confusion, then hears the familiar moaning from the dead. Without a minute to waste, he ran deeper, determined to get out of the tunnel on the other side.
I can run, I can hide But reality won't die
Infect me, infect me, You're trying to infect me
Bendy then jumped onto a car, on top of it, he hopped over to the next one and another over a horde of zombies.
And I will fight As you attack Why won't you ever see That what you have done to me Won't define who I am No, won't define who I am
He looked down below his feet as he climbed onto a cargo truck and zombies are surrounding it and he was surprised to see that some of them can jump to where he was, “Why can’t you all just die in a fire already?!” he yelled reared back to swing the sledge hammer again.
You're never gonna be Anything more to me Than a
BI☣HAZARD
He then does a swing attack again, sending zombies flying off of the truck before proceeding on to another vehicles as zombies reach out to grab him.
Predators devour their prey To nourish their being
But the way you tend to feed off of me's The most vicious thing I've seen
Bendy then hopped onto another car before getting out flashlight and then shines it to see that another barricade is just 2 miles away, he groaned “Do I really… Have to?” then looked at the horde who are waiting for him to get down from the car.
You must be an animal Unable to feel
A monster starved for centuries You've made me your meal
Bendy then looks around for an alternate route to the barricade, he found another cargo truck with tank filled with ink that Bendy needs, an idea formed in his head while he smiled.
I have been contaminated
Bendy decided to make a break for it, he hopped off the car and begins to plow through the undead crowd to get to the tank as he swings the blunt weapon in every direction to keep them away from grabbing him. Then he reached the ink-filled tank and begins to smash it with the sledge hammer as sprays of ink begins to fly out of the ripping cracks after blow after blow of the hammer.
Then finally, with one final hit, the tank burst open and a wave of ink poured out and splashed Bendy as he was pushed onto the ground of the inky blast. It and Bendy himself had dissolved into nothing more than a puddle of black ink. They looked at it as the ink had suddenly began to take form.
You can scream as much as you want I hear you loud and clear The thought of being alone Fills you with fear We're gonna end this war right here and now This won't go on anymore 'Cause I'mma bring
Then the creature, hulking creature made out of ink with huge arms and short legs with face blank but the month with sharp teeth as he growled…
You…
Down.
*Bendy’s Level 3 form: Beast Bendy
And I will fight
“How are ya like me now?!” Beast Bendy roared as zombies are stumbling around him and then he used his huge arm to swat them into a wall with a crashing cracks as he grabbed one of them before crashing.
As you attack Why won't you ever see That what you have done to me Won't define who I am No, won't define who I am
Then he dashed for the wall, shoving and pushing and smashing the walking corpses, leaving a trail of blood and broken body parts in his wake. Then begins to break the barricade down as his Level 3 form is beginning to wore off slowly.
You're never gonna be Anything more to me
The chain-link fence is beginning to give away with each slamming of fists with each two holes as his Beast Form is dripping ink slowly.
And I will fight
As you attack
Why won't you ever see
That what you have done to me Won't define who I am
No, won't define who I am
The fence finally gave away just in time while Bendy changed back. He looked back to see what he had did and then turned back to the broken fence.
Don't you dare forget any of this pain And when you're on your deathbed……
Remember my name
Then he got out the flashlight again from his rucksack that somehow survived, he thought he lost it when he turned and ran forward as he toward the end of the tunnel.
BI☣HAZARD
You are my BI☣HAZARD
I am your BI☣HAZARD
BI☣HAZARD
He ran as fast as his legs can carry him as he approached the the gap that a thin hole big enough for anyone to go through the gap, even will be bigger if someone had blown it up. “This is getting more better…” he said sarcastic as he squeezed through the hole and out the other side, he noticed was the end of the tunnel was blocked it but a hole to escape is at the top.
“What…?” he choked, looking at the exit before putting his hands on his head, “No… it’s too high up…” he began, “there’s no way out…. They must’ve bombed it but they didn’t thought that the hole would still be there….” he continued as he fell to his knees, still looking at the hole as small wisps of fire is floating and falling very gently like they were leaves.
He had been sitting on his knees and felt it had been forever when he was sitting on his knees before getting up and then brush himself off while he muttered “Better find an alternate route.” and then begins to walk back where he came.
Back to the carriage he created in his Beast form and back through the chained-link cage filled with zombies, but what he didn’t know that zombie with more muscle had looked at him and then begins to stumble over him but was cut off by the cage. Then, in a desperate urge to eat something raw and fleshy, it slammed against the fence winch is beginning to fall down due to time had weaken it enough to break and that caught Bendy’s attention.
“No! No!” he screamed as the zombie managed to broke the fence, sending Bendy running away as other zombies are doing the same thing then succeed breaking through. “Oh heck no!” he yelled as he ran for with zombies going after him.
Bendy kept running faster and faster from the horde after they had broken way the chained-linked fence as it gave away but thankfully, the Ink Demon had gotten a head start and ran like there was no tomorrow. He was panting quickly but managed to get the Barricaded Exit that was an entrance to the tunnel, he grabbed a loose pipe and begins to climb. Zombies are charging at him, rotting arms opened and ready to grab Bendy but he gotten too up high for the zombies to grab.
the horde screeched in anger as they watched the Dancing Devil go up and over the wall barricade not before he screamed “Adios suckers!”, even one of the zombies smacked another zombie at the back of its head for not catching him when he gone back to the way he came.
Bendy was laughing to himself for getting out of the Biohazard Zone so easily while he climbed down the safe side of the barricade but didn’t live long when his feet touched the ground and turned around to get away but he bumped into something, someone that he bumped into and made him looked up, there was a man that is tall as Boris but it’s a human, a hulking Caucasian French man wearing blue-stripe long shirt with sleeves, leather-bound in belts on each wrist, blue-black jeans with boots, is standing over him with a huge ancient hammer in both his hands, he was looking at the Ink Demon with an intention to crush him but he then hesitated by an old male British voice saying “Now, now Bruno.”
Then an old man appeared before him, wearing a white shirt with rolled up sleeves, black vest with two medallions, a pocket watch, black pants and shoes. He noticed he has numerous visible physical ailments. Including his eye, he also has a burn mark on the right side of his face and a brace on his right arm and left leg. His one eye blind appeared to be cataract afflicted on right while the other is normal green-colored had looked down at the dripping Ink Demon. Interested, he said “I see that you meet Bruno.”
Bendy had no idea what to say as he looked at the two.
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mylifeincinema · 6 years
Text
My Week(s) in Reviews: February 9, 2019
Skipped a couple weeks because I was focused on My Best of 2018... and just wasn’t watching much. So let’s play catch-up!
Cold Pursuit (Hans Petter Moland, 2019)
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My kind of funny; a violent and quirky tale of fathers and sons... and revenge. It didn’t go anywhere I thought it was going to, and like another Neeson film, The Grey, that worked to its favor. - 7.5/10
They Shall Not Grow Old (Peter Jackson, 2018)
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A time machine that brought to life vividly the stories of the many brave souls who served in WWI in a way that was occasionally captivating, and always both haunting and technically stunning. It does have some major flaws, though. While most of the footage is jaw-dropping, chunks are awkward and kind of creepy and distracting. Also, the delivery of it all could have been handled better, as the editing here is often clunky and greatly hinders the film’s pacing. - 6.5/10
High Flying Bird (Steven Soderbergh, 2019)
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Smart and energetic, this is about as thrilling a product as you’re going to get with a talking-heads film. Thanks to the cast, editing team and Soderbergh’s use of wide-angles and jarring compositions, High Flying Bird succeeds in being an interesting and exciting corporate drama. - 8/10
Overlord (Julius Avery, 2018)
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Works a lot better as a contained WWII thriller than it does as a mad-science horror/zombie movie. Sadly, the latter totally takes over the former when we reach the third act, making the payoff sizzle rather than bang. - 5.5/10
Velvet Buzzsaw (Dan Gilroy, 2019)
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Jake Gyllenhaal is completely and utterly fearless, and thus saves this film from being completely and utterly forgettable. Gilroy casts his net far too wide, and in the process gets stuck with a gallery full of half-thoughts and vague commentary being pawned off as deep critique. And it's a shame, because this could've been an extremely effective horror film if they had focused wholly on Dease's curse and less on consumerism as the death of art. - 4.5/10
Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald (David Yates, 2018)
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I was really hoping the internet was exaggerating. But nope, this was truly terrible. I don't care how pointless, messy, painful and (worst of all) boring this was, though, I would still kill for Queenie Goldstein. - 1/10
Stan & Ollie (Jon S. Baird, 2018)
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A warm biopic of two legendary performers, yes, but also a tender, sweet story of friendship and purpose. Both Coogan and Reilly are incredible, here, bringing to life the fragile and flawed men behind the effortlessly entertaining Laurel & Hardy with an abundance of heart, humility and respect. What a treat. - 8/10
Close (Vicky Jewson, 2019)
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I only saw this three weeks ago, and already I don’t remember a single thing about it after the solidly executed first five minutes. - 1/10
Enjoy!
-Timothy Patrick Boyer.
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fuckcyberlife · 6 years
Text
DBH Fic Recs
Some faves below the cut.
The Artist by KyDesert
"Sometimes, you’ve gotta fight your own battles, kid.”
And fight he did while he lay on Hank’s sofa, swaddled in blankets and unable to move. Too hot, but much, much too cold. Motionless while the last of CyberLife’s programming tore through his systems and made his hands ache to complete one final mission.
Damn did Hank wish he could be there to help the kid fight this one.
Lidocaine by SgtSalt
Markus is a caretaker. Markus is a nurse.
Markus is an android, and androids don't need either of the jobs he was created to do, because they can't feel pain.
A character exploration from Markus' POV, as he figures out what makes him - and other androids - uniquely alive. Features reflections about Carl and developing a rapport with Connor, who has a confession to make. Starts pre-canon and ends slightly post-canon.
seven, five, three, five, seven by WonderAss
Being alive is a messy process. Connor is confronted again with the double-edged sword of higher thinking when he starts displaying the first signs of a disorder.
empty-handed by silverhedges
Connor hunting Markus, successfully.
“The first time Markus hears of the android detective is from the TV they stole and managed to illegally rig up in the main living room.”
Getting Ahead of Deviancy by lapsi
The FBI begins to infringe on Lieutenant Hank Anderson's investigation of the TV station hijacking, in the form of the newly established Deviant Science Unit. The Bureau's answer to outbreaks of deviant behaviour, this unit collects data on deviant androids in order to understand and preempt criminal behaviour. So, Hank has no fucking idea why they've zeroed in on a non-deviant android, his partner Connor.
(The Mindhunter x Detroit: Become Human crossover that nobody asked for)
Empathy (and other dead weight) by CynKLBouns
Sure, now everyone wanted to hold hands, give out flowers, and pretend machines were real boys and girls or some shit. As if they weren’t hunting them through every city like rats just a month ago. People going nuts over their crusade one moment, stinking up the streets with the fires, and all of a sudden everything just fucking stops as though anything changed.
Nothing fucking changed.
A machine was still a machine, no matter how fancy its program.
How to be Authentic by StoriesFromDust
Hank was at work. Connor should be at work. He frowned from the sofa, staring at his jacket across the room. He liked that jacket. His favorite part of being woken up after uploading to a new build was when he put the jacket on and fixed his tie. He was mad that it had betrayed him, become something that marked him as less-than-a-person.
Changed the name from 'A Loan I Can't Repay' as I got farther in the story and figured out the ending. Sorry if it confused anyone!
Fear Response by joudama
Gavin Reed’s eyes narrowed, and the man was almost vibrating with a barely-contained rage. But there was also something else in his eyes, a “blink-and-you-would-miss it” tremor of something else, enough to make Connor pause and analyze the other man.
Clue: Slight widening of the eyes, with the whites showing around the irises.
Clue: Increased breathing, but shallow breaths; not the faster, heavier breaths associated with anger and rage.
Clue: Increased heart rate.
Clue: Loss of facial color due to constriction of capillaries, and a resulting vasodilation of central blood vessels to muscles.
Analysis: Gavin Reed was afraid.
Further Analysis: Gavin Reed was afraid of him.
of all ghosts by BeepGrandCherokeeper
In the moment, he’d defined the statue as religious – but androids have no distant gods who require worship, only their human creators. Reverence is as far outside their limited scope as any other emotion, and yet…
“In the bathroom,” Connor says, testing the waters. The deviant looks up at him abruptly, moving with a speed that blatantly indicates interest. “You left something behind. An offering. Why? What purpose does it serve?”
“So I’ll be saved,” it replies. “rA9. The first. The only one who can save us.”
Mind-Blowing by Reddooo
“I mean it, Gavin,” Hank said. “If Price even looks at you funny, if he gives you any shit—” He took a step closer to Gavin to make sure that the younger man was listening. Reed began to fidget considerably by the proximity, but it didn’t seem to be from anger. It was almost as if he was getting upset, “—you come to me immediately. Do you understand?”
Gavin didn’t answer. He hadn’t looked over at Hank since he started talking to him directly. Chris and Connor exchanged glances. Connor’s interest was more than piqued. Hank was acting almost… protective? Was that the word? Protective over Gavin?
“Gavin?” Hank called again and Gavin’s attention finally snapped to the acting captain.
“Yes. Hank. I understand.”
---
An accident at a neighboring precinct has two departments sharing office space, but Gavin and Hank have murderous beef with the guest lieutenant and Connor is determined to find out why.
stay out of trouble by yellow_caballero
Unemployment was not the best thing to ever happen to Connor, but it was high on the list. The best thing to ever happen to Connor was the sight of a Corgi wearing a small cowboy hat leashed to a post in front of the liquor shop. The second best thing to ever happen to him was the emancipation of his people from slavery and the opening of negotiations for equal rights. But unemployment may come in at a solid third.
march of progress by Calamitatum
Connor could fill a book with the things he doesn't know. One of Hank’s big, thick paperbacks, pages worn with age, covers creased and coffee-stained.
"What?" Hank grouses once, when he catches him looking. "They’re well-loved, at least."
Connor looks at himself, smooth plastic and pressed clothes. No creases, no stains.
Tonic by psymyn
The reclining chair had been a gift from Hank—something about housewarming—and Connor has never felt the need to get anything else.
All of Detroit is Lonely by steadycoffeeslow (Salimity)
Somewhere in the back of his mind, Hank’s non-alcohol addled brain was reminding him he hadn’t told Connor anything in particular at Stratford Tower. Last he could rightly remember, they were both watching that deviant’s speech and Connor hadn’t shared his thoughts with the detective. Connor had clearly been thinking of something, but of what, Hank couldn’t decipher. A part of him, at the time, had hoped that the deviant’s message had swayed something in Connor. Hank sure felt that it had swayed something in him.
Can androids and humans coexist? As Connor and Hank cope with the rapidly changing political climate of Detroit, their choices threaten what peace the partners have forged. Updates Friday-Saturday-Sunday
The Novelist by Satirrian
Androids did not feel. His mind was cold metal and white plastic. He was nothing more than a mission. The time was 1207 and Lieutenant Anderson was due to arrive at the station. Connor predicted that there was a 67% chance that Lt. Anderson had not arrived at the station.
Some new cases come in that make Connor wonder what deviants really are.
passing time. by shorelines
Androids don't sleep. They don't eat. Sometimes, they don't even die. So what do they do, with all that time?
The hobbies and histories of three androids, now and into the future.
Uncanny by MercuryPilgrim
It’s strange, how RK-800 is more unnerving as a Deviant than he ever was as a machine.
Meanwhile... by wintercoat
Connor is loitering in his peripheral vision, his officious shoulder angel. “What are you doing, Lieutenant?”
“Questioning my life choices.”
Christmas, 2038 by phocion
The mostly peaceful Android Rebellion of 2038 ended with tentative success, but now the androids must carve out a permanent place in a wary society. Markus, trying to hold on to that hard-won freedom, gets drawn into Hank and newly deviant Connor’s investigation into a string of complex thefts and murders. With far too many coincidences for comfort and old enemies resurfacing in the shadows, Markus has to figure out fast who he can trust. Letting North blow everyone up is starting to sound like a better idea every day…
--
Mostly an excuse to write more Markus and Connor interactions, now featuring triple the angst, double the Tracis, allegedly naked confessions in a public restroom, and a furby.
error by ZombieBabs
An error message, angry red and insistent, fills Connor’s field of vision.
He blinks, but diagnostics reveal no malfunction. And yet, the error message persists.
It buzzes like an old neon sign, refusing to be ignored.
warm and waking by puppyblue
Connor is not a deviant. He has also been programmed with the ability to lie.
November Cold by floweryhanzo
He's not answering the messages, but by now, Connor knows where to find him.
Fish in a Bowl by ConnorRK
“So as long as it’s not the face, it’s fine, huh?” Reed says. His free hand is suddenly on Connor’s neck, fingers soft against the line of his jaw, and the press of skin is hot. He lets it trail down the front of the CyberLife coat, and Connor can’t stop the shiver of his plates as they respond to the light pressure. “I’ve heard that before.”
(Connor is forced to work with Gavin on the deviancy case when Hank is injured and relegated to two weeks of desk duty.)
Faulty Buzzer by spitfireoo
Connor glitches out and can’t wake up. Hank finds him unresponsive on the couch and remembers the last time he had to carry a son.
Five Times Gavin Receives Kindness and +1 Times He Tries To Give It Back by Lady_Origami
It's hard to continue hating a person when said person is apparently a rather kind soul. Even if that person isn't a person at all, but an android with the same job as him.
101 Things (about Lieutenant Hank Anderson) by MoonlightPastime
“Good morning, Hank.” The Lieutenant grunted, mouth buried in the mug already. Connor glanced towards the tv, led flickering for half a second it took to turn in on. This was also ‘routine’ now. Another thing Connor now knew.
Non-verbal before consuming at least 2.76 fluid oz of coffee.
In which Connor does even more 'homework' on Hank.
Castaways by SilverKnight16
Connor grit his teeth. Why was he making this difficult? “If CyberLife knew that deviancy had the potential to end human lives, they had an obligation to their consumers to protect them from the danger as soon as they were made aware. And if CyberLife knew that deviancy was the formation of self-awareness, then their attempts to stop it are tantamount to genocide.”
“And if you were programmed to hunt them down, that makes you an accessory to murder.” Hank swigged again.
Connor stiffened, Thirium 310 churning loudly in his audio receptors.
--
Like a piece of driftwood in a hurricane, Connor, Hank, and everyone else stranded in the eye of the storm have to navigate something much bigger than themselves--or die.
Validation by spiderstanspiderstan
Post-revolution, androids in the workforce require bi-annual validation. Connor has just turned six months old, and is going for his first.
He does not like it.
Hands Stained Blue by PorcelainPlayground
After the car crash that changed their lives forever, Hank Anderson ends up buying an android to help care for his son, Cole. Being short on money, Hank turns to a collection of second-hand androids and stumbles across Connor, who quickly becomes the second son Hank never knew he wanted.
Too Long, Lost Cause by staringatstars
Fowler knows he didn't stop being Hank's friend when he became his captain. He's been trying to help him for years, but it's starting to seem like the old Anderson isn't coming back. If anything, he's only getting worse.
And he'd hoped giving him a partner, even an android partner, would help get him out of the rut he'd fallen into, but now he can't help but wonder if his latest plan to reignite the fire in him hasn't worked a little too well.
The 5 Times Gavin Was An Ass and the 1 Time He Wasn’t by HelsSoBlue
5 times Gavin was an ass and elicited a response from Connor. And the one time he wasn't an ass.
or
Connor has had enough of Gavin's shit, and Hank is loving every moment of it.
A Strange Comet by windyfiend
Connor's dedication to Jericho's mission -- and his guilt over having hunted his own people -- has him working tirelessly every moment of every day and night. He's given himself no time to breathe, let alone live his new life.
Hank's got something to say about that.
Man’s Best Friend by ryouseiteki
Can one small change affect the course of a Revolution? Connor takes a left instead of a right at the Detroit Police Department reception the morning of his first meeting with Hank.
Connor's brow furrows as he accesses the new ID and doesn't see Lieutenant Anderson listed under Handler. In fact... he is listed under Handler and instead of being under partner or associate, he's been placed above a Trainee named-
"FuzzButtIncoming, come." The android calls out, and through a slot in the door on the other side of the room, a tiny bundle of fur almost buried under a DPD K-9 Unit vest comes gamboling up to stand beside it.
Someone had desperately wanted its initials to spell FBI.
Guillotine by assistmediagnostics
"Then I'll crawl back to Jericho," and as if to exemplify this fact, Simon puts one hand on the graffitied wall, puts his right foot forward, drags his left foot behind it. Rinse. Repeat. It takes him an inordinately long amount of time to walk five feet and by two feet and six and a half inches, Markus is already shaking his head.
"I'm not leaving you behind, Simon."
it's anchored to my racing mind (maybe you can slow its stride) by bibliomatic
Connor's programming tells him he's wrong for being deviant. The new world tells him he's wrong for thinking he's wrong for being a deviant. The result: he feels bad about everything.
Hank's history has led to untreated depression and a roster of coping mechanisms that consists pretty much entirely of alcohol and a partially loaded gun. He isn't really equipped to handle an anxious android on top of that, but he can't bring himself to abandon him either.
The result: Connor moves in.
The result: They begin to help each other.
The result: They fall in love.
((aka conflicts between Connor's opinions and his programming lead to moral OCD, which he deals with badly; he moves in with a still-depressed Hank, which who isn't doing so hot himself; together they learn to deal with their problems and each other a bit better))
cool shit by niltia
Hank hates when Connor puts stuff in his mouth for instrumental analysis. The forensics department personnel, on the other hand, think it’s the best shit ever.
MCR.exe by hopelesspapaya
Cyberlife is about to make a deal with the State Department, but all they have is a prototype with a buggy social module. They stress about that, while Connor tries his best. Meanwhile, Markus learns to play the piano, and develops the artistic taste of an angsty preteen. Kamski and Amanda Struggle through it all.
Canon-era crack taken seriously.
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