#killing people you LIKE is bad. maybe. shes still conducting research on this

[vigilskeep]

i actually havent gotten as much approval w karlach as i’d like—i have just as much with astarion and gale, who i picked up late—but that’s kind of fun. karlach definitely got the most mad and led the discussion after alfira, w shadowheart mostly thinking cautiously and wyll saying nothing at all, and i kind of enjoy that wanting to fix that and to win karlach’s approval back is genuinely one of siinvi’s driving motivations she’ll have to work to earn, rather than just idk a stat i’m trying to achieve as the player. and it makes more sense to me as a first step on a redemption arc because siinvi really doesn’t quite have her own conscience figured out yet, she just wants everyone still to like her (and to be able to kill, ideally. to kill with friends!)

[just-some-random-blogger]

love letter bc not only your fanfics deserve love but you do too! 'me when i dance' you mean cute? does it mean dance covers too? 'WHATEVER HAPPENS' well it went better than i though but i still was dizzy and sleepy. thanks for your support! i sewed a tie on friday! it took exhausting 3 hours (i was promised itd take 1...) and i was hungry but everythings ok. im still alive. how did your friday go? 'my grandma was kinda mean for that' im judging. respectfully to your grandma but still. 'our neighbor threw it away' oh my am i angry now? id tell this (in)human being a couple of sweet words... you didnt but i cried. yk if you want to make me cry in wfal you should kill a cat. (not recommended) rip lovely TT 'it’s the in the keep then' *excited meow meow* 'OFF ANON LIKE YOU PROMISED' oh youre so petty. 'im sure you’d burn the first day you step foot here' absolutely right. thats why i never go there. im like burning in summers in st. petersburg when its 30 C so... 'YOU DO KNOW THATS FREEZING POINT' nuh its perfect?? 'why is it harder to breathe in dry areas?' its dry + cold. its important. bc we just got less oxygen into the blood... like we have the same amount of oxygen in the air but bc of the absence of water vapor the blood doesnt absorb it as good as in the south. 'I HOPE YOU FIND PEACE TOO' its ok i still dgaf while she doesnt trigger me. but alright. ill get over once. thanks for your love<з 'Thank you i love my hands even though they’re so veiny' its ok isnt it? ik many people love it. its just your hand that do very perfect things! 'ur making me wanna maybe make it' hgjdj ig thats my job here. glad you love it and know how talented you are again. id be very glad to see the part 2 if youre up to make it! 'I HAVE THIS STARK UNIVERSE' yeah and i love it TT its just easier for me to associate myself with the starks? ghdjfdj yes bc of the north. im glad you love the north's aesthetic sglkljs. do yk the series vikings? i never watched it BUT. i know they interacted with the ancient rus and wow theyre northern so. i did some research and learnt they had a russian actor which was very famous and ideal of male beauty but now hes a meme TT i nearly cried bc of laugh when i found out this fact. 'because then id have to use a name or (Y/N)' HAFHISI poor child. try not to? get more creative? goof luck? im glad you find the possibility of speaking for others' thoughts important enough to use y/n. 'she at the very least knows how to properly conduct herself and treat others' yeah thats why shes fine. i dont have guts to raise a sword either, rather make smn raise it for me >:) but still your opinion is the most important here. so im gled you love your creation. 'IM SO FUCKIGN HOT' HFJSJFKF and how nice it was to walk down the street with the snow falling down and only -5 C🥰 so cozy. HGIODJOF how were the classes? how are assignments? oh youre soso sweet with the song TT love you catmom TT so good morning or anything! have a nice everything! love you! drink water (esp during this hot time) and eat nice food! take care<з

OMG LOVE LETTER

ME TO MY CAT EVERYTIME I SEE MY KITTY

love letter bc not only your fanfics deserve love but you do too!

'me when i dance' you mean cute? does it mean dance covers too?

T_T i meant funny HAHAHHA i mean i dance but i dont post myself dancing. i enjoy learning dances though! if i like them enough

'WHATEVER HAPPENS' well it went better than i though but i still was dizzy and sleepy. thanks for your support!

<3 <3

i sewed a tie on friday! it took exhausting 3 hours (i was promised itd take 1...) and i was hungry but everythings ok. im still alive.

do you mean like you made a tie from scratch T_T RIP I TOOK DRESSMAKING AS MY ELECTIVE IN HIGHSCHOOL AND I HATED EVERY MINUTE OF IT. I WORE THE DRESS TO PROM BUT MY GRANDMOTHER HAD IT GET REDONE BY A DRESSMAKER SO I COULD WEAR IT AND ALSHFHASF;ASF;HASF;HASFHSA I CRIED COS IT WAS EXPESIVE at least to me AND I FELT SO BAD THAT MY GRANDMA HAD TO DO THAT T_T

how did your friday go?

i was on a roll on friday that was when i posted the p3 and the pedro pascal fic. the next day tho T_T i was really tired cos i was overthinking about my assignments. i finished them now tho so its ok. i still have some to finish but meh im tired it can wait tom

'my grandma was kinda mean for that' im judging. respectfully to your grandma but still.

T_T my grandmas kinda mean so its fine but STOP JUDGING PEOPLE IN GENERAL T_T

'our neighbor threw it away' oh my am i angry now? id tell this (in)human being a couple of sweet words... you didnt but i cried.

there was unfortunately no place to bury the poor kitty T_T i live in the city. its just concrete and asphalt T_T

yk if you want to make me cry in wfal you should kill a cat. (not recommended) rip lovely TT

WTF NO WTF NO WTF WTF WTF

'it’s the in the keep then' *excited meow meow*

LOL it may take a while im tired T_T

'OFF ANON LIKE YOU PROMISED' oh youre so petty.

/: im not petty im just reminding you T_T

'im sure you’d burn the first day you step foot here' absolutely right. thats why i never go there. im like burning in summers in st. petersburg when its 30 C so...

oh wait it becomes 30 degrees there in st petersburg!? that's actually pretty hot. it was apparently 32 C here during 12pm AND I WAS ON FIRE T_T so wow im suprised it gets that hot. idK I FEEL LIKE THE INTERNET IS GIVING ME WRONG TEMPERATURES BECAUSE IT FEEL LIKE ITS WAY HOTTER THAN THAT BECAUSE IF ST PETERSBURG CAN GET 30 DEGS WTF

'YOU DO KNOW THATS FREEZING POINT' nuh its perfect??

'why is it harder to breathe in dry areas?' its dry + cold. its important. bc we just got less oxygen into the blood... like we have the same amount of oxygen in the air but bc of the absence of water vapor the blood doesnt absorb it as good as in the south.

oh so now you believe in science /:

'I HOPE YOU FIND PEACE TOO' its ok i still dgaf while she doesnt trigger me. but alright. ill get over once. thanks for your love<з

'Thank you i love my hands even though they’re so veiny' its ok isnt it? ik many people love it. its just your hand that do very perfect things!

people like veiny hands on men. and

i mean i love my hands but sometimes im like wew theyre so big and veiny. its a testament to how hard i work but yeah society makes me questions things about myself. its so unhealthy

'ur making me wanna maybe make it' hgjdj ig thats my job here. glad you love it and know how talented you are again. id be very glad to see the part 2 if youre up to make it!

WELL SEE ALL YOU PEOPLE MAKING ME DO PART TWOS WHEN IM SO AGAINST THEM T_T

'I HAVE THIS STARK UNIVERSE' yeah and i love it TT its just easier for me to associate myself with the starks? ghdjfdj yes bc of the north. im glad you love the north's aesthetic sglkljs.

lol i was not sure if you knew of my stark universe at the time SO YEAH WOOO I LOVE WOLVES <3

do yk the series vikings? i never watched it BUT. i know they interacted with the ancient rus and wow theyre northern so. i did some research and learnt they had a russian actor which was very famous and ideal of male beauty but now hes a meme TT i nearly cried bc of laugh when i found out this fact.

i also only know of the series vikings. who's the actor? im so curious. the first persont that popped into my head is alexander ludwig, but it says hes candian so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

'because then id have to use a name or (Y/N)' HAFHISI poor child. try not to? get more creative? goof luck? im glad you find the possibility of speaking for others' thoughts important enough to use y/n.

I AM CREATIVE HOW DARE YOU 😡 and of course other characters are important my gosh AHAHAHAH imagine having everything be about you all the time T_T 🤢🤢🤢

'she at the very least knows how to properly conduct herself and treat others' yeah thats why shes fine. i dont have guts to raise a sword either, rather make smn raise it for me >:)

d;lkgaf;ksagflkasfgkas;fgas;fg;fakl;gaf;asf why are you so inheretly evil. it's giving yes i love manipulating others alshf;ahf;ashfsla stop HASLFHALFLASFASLG gwfo/

but still your opinion is the most important here. so im gled you love your creation.

HAHAHAHH of course i love my creation. out of all the forms of art i make, i am most confident in my writing because of how much feedback ive had on it, as opposed to my drawing and my music and anything else. i would like to be better at them but that would also require me to force myself to be confident enough to share them so T_T its a paradox

'IM SO FUCKIGN HOT' HFJSJFKF and how nice it was to walk down the street with the snow falling down and only -5 C🥰 so cozy.

/:

[blocked]

HGIODJOF how were the classes? how are assignments?

never ending like my queue AHHAHAH T_T

oh youre soso sweet with the song TT love you catmom TT

<3 im excited to do it!!!!

so good morning or anything! have a nice everything! love you! drink water (esp during this hot time) and eat nice food! take care<з

good day my love <3 i hope you also keep yourself hydrated and eat well. take care of yourself i love you

xxx

[husbandohunter]

Boys over flowers [Genshin Impact/Various x Reader] Part 2

Not everything had to be about fighting. Ahem Childe.

Genre: fluff, angst(?)

Characters: Zhongli, Childe, Albedo, Xiao

{Zhongli}

Out of all the bountiful possessions in the land he carved with his very own hands, the glaze lily had always been his favourite.

This flower was a nostalgia stained with time. As much as he loved them, the love he felt was more of a bittersweet sadness if anything. The loss of a friend, his mentor, someone he cherished so deeply, all of it was held into a single glaze lily.

Once as Morax, now as ordinary Zhongli, in those 6000 years he had seen it all. Even his grief for Guizhong faded into a memory.

Sometimes Zhongli felt like he was reading from a story book. Detatched while staring through an omniscient standpoint. It seems that his infinite years brought both experience and lonliness along the way.

"Zhongli? What are you staring at?"

But not when he was with you.

The glaze lily went on many journeys when he met you

He remembers the first encounter on a sunset night just as the petals  were about to bloom. You were there, crouched down, staring into his golden eyes.

“This is for you! Not many can be fully matured like this so make sure to take good care of it,” You held it out to him and he takes the stem out of your hold.

“A parting gift, I appreciate your thoughtfulness,” Zhongli sees it as a sign of a new contract, “It seems you possess a good eye when you were selecting them.”

He remembers the bouquet you presented during his birthday, the garland you placed on his head when he was reading, the vase by his desk always filled to the brim whenever you’d pay a visit to his parlour.

He remembers how the blue petals scattered across the floor the day you two married, everywhere he went so did this flower. Everytime he saw this flower, he thought of you.

Was it okay to feel like this? No one can ever replace Guizhong, was it okay to love again even when this being was much more perishable than she was? Zhongli was use to the experience of tragedy and loss as it was part of life.

Ah, so this must be what it feels like to live like a mortal.

To cherish every passing moment knowing that it won’t last forever. He will embrace it to the end. 

Old memories that were once dust rose from the soil, now reborn into a new beginning. Your curious gaze leans closer to his profile, sitting side-by-side under the blankets of your shared bed, the corners of his lips lift into a small smile.

“I’m only reminiscing, my dear. You don’t need to worry for me.” He kisses your forehead and tucked you to bed. The candle now blown out as his arms wrapped around your waist while spooning from behind.

Zhongli closed his eyes, knowing if he dreamt of a garden full of glaze lilies, there will be no sadness behind it.

{Childe}

Mother fucker would try to turn this into a sparring session.

This is why you NEVER invite Childe. If the valley were the air nomads, Childe was the fire nation. He’d stomp his muddy shoes in front of you just to get your attention simply because he knows it will piss you off.

An angry s/o means a potential fight. Win win situation.

Thus, no one blamed you for giving him a cold shoulder after that.

“Aha, looks like I went a little too far, didn’t I? Alright alright, I’ll stop trampling on your flowers from now on, you have my word. So talk to me, okay? Please?”

Alas you spare him a glance, “Make that a pinky promise.”

He didn’t know you were so serious about gardening. The Feiyun commerce guild took greate pride in cultivating the finest silk flowers in all of Teyvat and you being from that guild held up that legacy. Even if Childe tries to buy back the ones he stepped on, nothing could match the quality of your work.

Needless to say, your little hobby became a normal thing, Childe was very chaotic in nature so something more calm was nice to mediate that attitude. You taught him how to water plants, place the fertilizer and knowing which ones to pick.

But let’s be real, florist Childe isn’t that far-fetched because he is 10/10 waifu material.

Then Teucer comes in and tags along. He wanted to take some silk flowers back to Tonia until Childe informed him they’ll wilt on their way to Snezhnaya. 

“Aww, that’s too bad,” he would say while pouting, “Then I’ll give them to you big sister (Y/n)!”

“How sweet, you’ll be quite the charmer when you’re all grown up, Teucer. Maybe even better than your big brother.”

“Come on now, babe. You know that’s impossible.”

You twirled the silk flower right under your nose, the playful tone never leaving your voice, “Oh really? You and Teucer both share the same genes so yes, it is a possibility.”

An amusing glint dances in the ocean of his gaze as he gleefully remarks, “Well if you put it that way, I think Teucer would be at a very big disadvantage.”

“What do you-”

Before you could finish, Childe covers Teucer’s eyes and leans over to steal a sinful kiss, sliding his tongue inside. He purposely brushed his lips over yours after parting, completely satisfied by your flustered expression.

I love this bastard

{Xiao}

Hip hip hooray for having both Qiqi and Xiao in your party. Must be fun collecting their ascension materials.

“Adeptus Xiao!”

Your dumbass fell off the high cliff while obtaining the violet grass, Xiao yeets in from nowhere and caught you from death’s clutches.

Shall I mention that this had happened TWICE already?

Xiao carries you to safety and gently settles you down to your feet. He shot you the sharpest and most deadpan look he could muster because actions speak louder that words, he was trying to make a point.

You gave him a weary smile as the violetgrass batch limps in your hands along with the qingxins.

“I can hardly fathom how utterly stupid and moronic you can actually be. What did you think would happen when you tried to pull off that stunt? That you’d suddenly grow wings and be able to fly?”

His harsh words put you back into your place like a scolded child, “I’m sorry...I just wanted to help...”

Mah man does not watch what he says and always end up guilty. Your kicked puppy look is really going to be the death of him. He means well, just harsh when it comes to your well-being.

“Fine, give me those. I’ll take care of it.” He wouldn’t allow you to retort, he just took them from your hands and left without a word.

Let’s just say that Xiao isn’t the best when it comes to handling flowers as he would handle monesters, his touch isn’t the most delicate either and would prefer to get the job done fast. 

Sometimes he’d pull the roots our along with it, dirt and mud dripping from the bottom of the stem. Or the opposite. He pulls too hard and the stem just SNAPS and you’re left with just the blossom. 

“Does it matter? They’re only ingredients as you’ve said.”

That gave you a perfect excuse to teach him the ways of gardening and just be more delicate overall. 

At first he didn’t understand why humans were so meticulous about these things but when he saw a man present a bouquet to his wife, Xiao began to reconsider his methods. He doesn’t undersand mortal traditions as much and sticks to something simple and classy.

Don’t be surprised when you find a bunch on your desk for your birthday <3

{Albedo}

The sheer cold of dragon spine could naturally kill any botanical organisms aside from mints. The only flowers Albedo usually sees are the ones he artificially makes.

But being the genius he was, Albedo knew every variety of flowers to exist in the book. In this case, HE was the expert.

To him, the flower was the symbol of life. Albedo only knew the scientific facts of plant life and their natural functions, you on the otherhand were more familiar with the flower languages in a deeper meaning.

Today was a rare day where Albedo figured he’d step out of that freezing lab and conduct his research somewhere warmer, specifically Windrise where it’s quiet and away from the city.

“Dandelions may not be flowers but thei’re the main specialty of Mondstadt carrying the meaning of ‘freedom’! That’s probably how the Acting Grandmaster got her title.”

“Freedom...” He ponders, “I guess you cold say that.”

Albedo can’t understand why people would choose to associate meaning with plants. Where do their ideas come from? And why? Frankly, he can’t see the point in any of it. 

But at the same time, it made him happy to see you so enthusiastic about his research even if it wasn’t quite near the target. Albedo had always been so engrossed in his work and you’d just silently keep him company of the side, not many times where you both fot to nerd out on the same topic.

Emotions were still a mystery to him. It seems that even upon the most boring subjects, they don’t seem boring anymore when talking to his significant other. Soon enough, Albedo found himself putting his research aside and just listening to you talk. 

“And the Rose expresses romance and love. It’s common for lovers to give it to another during Valentines day.”

He hums cheekily, “Are you telling me that just to hint me to give one to you?”

“W-Well, I didn’t say that.”

He got nothing done. Perhaps his research can wait for another day, right now, he was more curious on what other meanings can a flower hold.

[foxsimthings]

Part 1 for @wastelandwhisperer ‘s Dying Ember 

Cairo Blackhand A kiss with a fist Y/A | She/They | Pansexual Ex-military | Skulltaker Raiders Active | Loner | Hot-headed

Domino The trick up your sleeve Ageless Probably | He/Him | Disastrously Homosexual Incubus | Shit-disturber Player | Mischievous | Kleptomaniac

This is the first part of ____ amount of sims, please don’t use all of them unless you need them for background, there are so many and your poor computer does not deserve this lmao.

Cairo🎵

Like many hot-headed young people, Cairo enlisted to the military early after high school. She was a textbook troubled youth, bounced from alternative school to juvie to alternative school to jail following a hellscape of a childhood plagued with the various mines that come with living below the poverty line with absent parents addicted to various substances. She was angry. Would anyone be surprised? Her lust for power wasn’t healthy, but she wasn’t evil. Complicated, perhaps. Miserable, sad - downright pathetic some days. She allowed the military to conduct cybernetic research on her to ideally become more powerful, resulting in various cybernetic replacements.

Jenna in her youth, she became Cairo after the fallout. Where the military provided structure and discipline, once again she was on her own, only now where she had once relied on barbs and purely human strength to enact violence, Cairo had been changed, augmented. How human was she, any more? Did she feel still, the way she used to? Did she fear? Love? 

Cairo is generally regarded as a loose cannon. She kills on behalf of the Skulltaker Raiders and she seems to delight at the prospect of death; of something finally hefting her off this mortal coil and releasing her from the pain and anger that made her into what she is now. And maybe being the bad guy will expedite that process. Or maybe someone will see her for what she truly is - a neglected, unloved child - and turn this aimless weapon into a force for good.

Cairo doesn’t fear death, doesn’t fear the mutated or the decrepit. She fears one thing, and one thing only - Brutus Carver.

Domino🎵

All anyone seems to know is that he appeared one day. It’s all anyone needs to know, as far as Domino is concerned.

What is he? Why is he? What do those lines all over his body do, if anything? Mind your own business, that’s what.

The man is a known enigma, cagey and complicated. He has all the charm of a trickster fae, delighting in practical jokes and pranks, general mischief. Domino doesn’t seem too concerned about all of this apocalypse business - why should he be? His day-to-day concerns revolve around himself more than anything, his own entertainment and amusement. Those that trust him enough to remain in his presence report having things go missing, strange dreams about purple men, waking drained with the sensation of a heavy chest, as if someone had been sat on it all night. 

The incubus feeds on dreams and emotions. Perhaps the truth is that all the fear in the world now is what brought him out in the first place; the smell of strong emotion on the air and desperate people that would let him taste their anguish in exchange for a second of his power. Well-fed, his skill in conjuration could save your life in a pinch. He could conjure up a door to get you out of a sticky situation, a meal when you’re on the brink of starvation, a coat in the dead of winter.

Is it worth letting him feed on your fear to save your life?

[laurie-stark]

Unwanted-Peter Parker

Summary: Y/n Stark gets more than she bargains for when she joins her Pops, Captian America, for the civil war of the century.

Pairings: Tony Stark x Daughter!Reader, Natasha Romanoff x Daughter!Reader, Steve Rogers x Daughter!Reader, Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Warnings: swearing, fighting

A/N: Just so you don't get too confused, Y/n is Tony Stark's biological child, however, she was raised by the Avengers and refers to Natasha and Steve as Mama and Pops. Also I wrote this a year ago LOL. Enjoy x

Part Two

New York, 2016

This was bad. Very, very bad. I had seen the secretary come in the compound over the screen of the security monitors. He marched into my home, unannounced and unwelcome, holding himself with purpose. I followed him over the screens, tracking his movements. I watched as he was led through the building, up the elevator and into...the conference room? Oh this was bad. Very, very bad.

I raced as fast as I could. By the time I got the to conference room, the whole group was already sitting in front of the secretary. I saw Wanda first. Her back was to me, but I could see her rigid frame and I knew something was happening. My  father saw me approaching through the glass walls. He shot me a look that said "Don't do it. Don't come in here." I didn't obey.

The secretary stopped speaking abruptly when I walked through the doors. He gave me a quizzical look, did a once over and immediately looked at my father. Surely I don't look that much like Tony.

"Sorry I'm late, no one informed me about this team meeting," I gasped, short of breath from all the running. Of course, this was pushing it. As much as I wanted to be a part of the group, fighting was not my style, so I often got left out of important Avengers activities. I got to live with them, but that was it. Tony rose from his seat. He mumbled an apology to the secretary and gently ushered I out of the room. I would have fought back, but seeing the look on my father's face was enough to shut me up. And I never shut up. The secretary resumed his story. Something about golf and a heart attack.

My dad turned to face me. "Look kid, I get that you want to know what's going on, and you will, but today isn't the day."

"Okay," I said. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be, it's okay to be curious," he replied, walking back into the meeting. "Stay upstairs, okay hun?" I nodded and started the trek back up to my room. I shut the door and flopped onto my bed. Out of my long list of pet peeves, this was number one. Sure, I didn't want to fight, but come on family, I should at least get to be in on what's going on! Maybe I could help. I have powers for God sake. I am more than capable of helping the Avengers. But they always saw me as the little girl who needs protection.

"April, pull up security footage of the conference room please," I asked. April, the AI I built, that was modeled after Friday, projected the video surveillance from the ceiling. "Volume up." The group was in the same position as from when I left. The secretary was passing around the room. There was a thick white book being passed around the table.

"The Avengers were formed to make the world a safer place," Steve said quietly. "I feel we've done that."

The secretary looked down at him. "Tell me Cap, do you know where Thor and Banner are right now?" What? You were so confused. Why did the secretary care where my uncles were? No one answered the secretary's question, so he kept talking. I racked your brain to find the answers on my own. "...this is the middle ground." The secretary pointed at the book, now lying untouched on the table.

"And if we come to a decision you don't like?" Natasha asked.

"The you retire," the secretary responded. With that, he left the room and I scurried back downstairs.

Everyone was in the living room. I sat in the stairwell, again being uninvited to this group discussion. I listened to them fight. I figured out what was going on. The United Nations were being ungrateful little bitches and hated that they didn't have control over my family. So they gave an ultimatum: give in or give up. From the sounds of it, Uncle Rhodes, Vision and two of my four parents were in agreement with the accords. Steve and Sam were against it. Wanda hadn't said a word. Tension was growing high, I could feel it. I heard my father conclude that he won and a thud of the accords being tossed on the coffee table. Someone got up and left. Before I had the chance to act, the door to the stairwell was torn open. Steve pushed through and nearly stepped on me.

"Eavesdropping?" He smiled.

"You kicked me out, what else am I supposed to do?" I retorted. I noticed the tears welling in Steve's eyes. "Pops, what's wrong?"

Steve's glance fluttered to the ground. "Peggy. She, um..." was all he said. All he had to say. I  was smart enough to read between the lines. I stepped forward and hugged Steve. He smiled, grateful that he had me. I knew how much Peggy meant to him. When I was little, he'd always tell me the story about how they met, how they never got that dance. And every time I would make him dance with me. He even took me to visit her once. I was ten and it was Christmas time. Steve told me that he wanted his favorite girl to meet his favorite niece. Now that was all but a memory. I held him tight before telling him to go. It was okay, I could handle the others. He left without a second glance.

Within days the team was scattered. Steve and Sam had gone to Peggy's funeral. Natasha was off to the signing of the Accords in Vienna. And then all hell broke loose when the bombs went off at the signing ceremony. As always, I  were left home. I had no idea what was going on. At first this break in the team was about the Accords, but somehow Steve's old pal Bucky got involved. I didn't know what to think. The next thing I knew, everyone left for Berlin to rescue Steve and Sam from jail, leaving myself, Wanda and Vision at home.

When night fell, I was in my room, sulking as one would say. I was spending my evening flipping through Tumblr. There was a new superhero everyone was talking about. He called himself Spider-Man. New York based, focused on small neighborhood crimes. By YouTube footage alone, it was obvious he was a rookie. Soon enough, though, I accidentally conducted a full fledged search on this guy. He seemed shady. Sure, he's helping old ladies cross the street and all, but he just has a vibe. I couldn't put my finger on it. April broke me out of my research when she told me that there was a security breach in the compound. I pulled up the security camera footage and saw Clint Barton in my living room with Wanda levitating a knife at his nose.

I rushed downstairs. When I got to the living room Vision was holding Clint by the neck. I watched in silence as Wanda used her powers on Vision. She made it look easy. Slowly, Vision sunk to his knees. Wanda pushed further and the floor gave way. Vision was pushed through all seventy-four thousand levels of the compound. Wanda and Clint were about to turn to run out when you revealed yourself.

"Now was that really necessary?" I smirked. "We just had the floors waxed."

"Y/n," Clint warned.

"I'm not sitting on my ass," I said. Clint smirked and nodded. He knew he couldn't stop me anyways.

One car ride, plane flight and van trip later, I was in Germany. As it turns out, Steve wanted Clint and Wanda on his side, along with some ant dude named Scott. Scott was cool. Him and I sat together on the plane ride and watched Die Hard. He was asleep in the van when we pulled over in the airport parking lot. Clint told me to stay in the van. For once, I listened. I heard voices belonging to Steve and Sam. Clint slid open the van doors abruptly, shaking Scott awake. I chuckled to myself as he fangirled over my Pops. A voice over the intercom said something in a language I didn't know. A voice I didn't recognize said that the airport was being evacuated.

"Stark." Sam muttered.

Scott looked puzzled. Clearly he hadn't been filled in either. "Stark?" he asked.

I step out of the van. "Yes?" Steve and Sam look at me with wide eyes. Clint gave Steve a sheepish shrug. Behind their little blue car stood Bucky Barnes. I knew who he was. I learned about him in school. I knew he was some evil super soldier that attacked Natasha and Steve. He looked scary. He looked exactly like the type of guy to hurt my Mama and Pops. I held his glance until Steve spoke up.

"Y/n, what are you doing here?" Steve whisper-shouted. His voice always got quiet when he 'yelled' at me.

"I hitchhiked." I replied, knowing that at this point Steve didn't have the time to argue with me. He shook his head in defeat and took a deep breath.

"Suit up."

The airport was huge. Our group got suited up and started for the runway. I didn't know how Steve knew where to find my dad, but I followed him anyways. Before I could get any closer, Bucky held me back.

"It's, uh, not gonna be safe. You should stay here and keep low," he said. I frowned. I did not come all this way to not fight. But even still, I nodded. Bucky scared me. He and Sam took off in another direction to find the getaway jet. I laughed. This whole thing was ridiculous. My attention turned to the sound of my father and Rhodey flying down from the sky.

"Ross gave me 36 hours to bring you in," Tony started. "That was 24 hours ago. Can you help a brother out?"

"You're after the wrong guy," Steve replied nonchalantly.

"Your judgement is askew. Your old war buddy killed innocent people yesterday-"

"And there are five more super soldiers just like him. I can't let the doctor find 'em first Tony. I can't."

"Steve," Natasha approached him slowly. "You know what's about to happen. Do you really wanna punch your way out of this one?"

I took this as my cue. "No, but I will," I said, emerging from my hiding spot. I looked at the faces of your family. My gaze fell on Tony and my smile dropped. He looked angry.

"You brought my daughter into this?" Tony yelled, turning to Steve.

"Technically, I brought myself," I said. "You really think you were gonna leave me out of all the fun?"

Tony pinched his brow. "Y/n, this is serious."

"No it's not," I objected. "No, this got personal the second you thought you were gonna loose Pops to Bucky." No one moved after I said that.

"Alright, I've run out of patience," my father finally spoke. He cupped his hands around his mouth. "Underoos!"

Before I had a chance to process, a red and black blur whipped past my head. It landed on top of a nearby van. It was Spider-Man. As in the Spider-Man. He had taken Cap's shield from him. I said nothing. My father could have recruited me, but instead he chose this little neighborhood nobody. That hurt a little. The Spider-thing and my father bantered for a minute. So he's never even been in a real fight before, I thought.

"You've been busy," Steve smirked.

Tony turned back to Steve. "And you've been a complete idiot. Dragging in Clint and Y/n, rescuing Wanda from a place she doesn't even want to leave, a safe place. I'm trying to keep-" he paused, sighing. "I'm trying to keep to keep you from tearing the Avengers apart."

"You did that when you signed." Steve kept his cool. My father did not.

"Alright, we're done. You're gonna turn Barnes over, you're gonna come with us, now, because it's us! Or squad of J-SOC guys with no compunction of being polite. Come on."

Everyone stood still, waiting. Steve put his web-cuffed hands in the air. Clint shot them free from a mile away. I saw Scott -or a tiny version of him. Spider-Man noticed too, right before Scott grew and kicked him in the face. My dad flew off to retrieve Wanda and Rhodey was ready to take on Cap.

"Hey Mr. Stark, what should I do?" Spider-Man asked. He sounded young.

"What we discussed, keep your distance, web 'em up!" My father barked, as he flew towards Clint and Wanda.

"Okay, copy that," Spider-Man replied. He shot a web at me first. It caught my arm and I got whipped to the ground. I glared at him.

"Really?" I hissed.

"Just following Mr. Stark's orders," He said before swinging off after Bucky. I was left on the ground once everyone dispersed. I tried pulling my hand out of the sticky material that was shot at me, but it was stronger than glue. I was forced to watch the action unfold and wait until Natasha ran past me.

"Mama, a little help here?" I called out to her.

She stopped for a second. "Sorry honey, I really don't want you getting hurt." She ran off and I groaned. No one ever wants me to get hurt. I suppose I should be grateful, but in a moment like this, gratitude is hard to find. I started toying with the web. I wondered if I could break down the molecules. Surely there had to be some sort of H2O compound in it somewhere.

My power surged through me, the current flowing to the hand webbed to the ground. I managed to manipulate the water out, just as I predicted I would. The substance melted off my hands. Gross, I thought. I wiped the remaining web on my pants and got up. The water from the webbing fell to the ground with a splash.

I stood up and examined my surroundings. Natasha was on the ground fighting Scott, who shrunk down and flipped her over her own head. The Black Panther was on the other side of the roof, battling Steve. I didn't move. As much as I wanted to be included, I couldn't bring myself to fight. Not now at least.

The two teams assembled, divided by a line on the pavement. How cinematic. I was on Cap's side. I never meant to fight against my father. If anything, I thought it was funny. I looked out at the team in front of me. They were all lined up, Rhodey, the cat, Tony, Nat, the Spider-brat. Vision hovered above them. A bead of sweat trickled down the back of my neck. I were scared. I wasn't made to fight.

"What do we do Cap?" Sam asked.

"We fight." Steve moved first. We followed in suit. My dad's team mimicked my team's actions and walked closer. We  broke into a jog and then a full out run. This was really about to happen. I hoped that my family would go easy on me. I knew what I was doing. I reassured myself of that. I have done a bunch of training, especially with Wanda. I could move the freaking elements with my mind and manipulate gravity! As if the Spider-Man could beat that. I am Y/n fricking Stark. I can do this.

I put a smile on your face, contrasting everyone else's bitter looks. "I call the spider!" I yelled, just as everyone began the battle. Spider-Man heard me and slowed down just a bit. I cocked an eyebrow. He resumed his pace and ran straight for me. I ran headfirst towards him. He threw out his arm to web me, but I was faster. With a swish of my hands, I changed his gravitational pull and made his feet flip out from under him. He landed on his back with a hard thud. As gently as I could, I morphed the pavement under him to trap his hands. "Careful there, Spider-boy. Don't wanna get stepped on." I walked away. I made it about ten steps before I heard the sound of concrete cracking. I turned around and saw that Spider-Man was breaking free of his restraints. I was shocked. He has super strength. Great. I should have moved out of his way because the second he got one hand free, I was webbed against a truck.

"For the record," he said, getting up in my face. "It's Spider-Man." He swung off into the airport through a glass window. I watched the glass rained onto the ground. Taking a deep breath, I quickly removed myself from the webs. I needed a plan. A strategy. I thought about at the opposing team. Everyone was scattered around the airport. I thought about who would be easiest to fight. But then I realized, the strategy wasn't about how they'd fight, but who. There was no way in hell that my parents or Uncle Rhodey would even think about fighting me. The Black Panther didn't know me, so he was a threat. The worst Vision could do was pick me up and fly away, so he was in thr safe zone. That left the spider. I smiled to myself. Rematch time.

By the time I found Spider-Man, he had already webbed Sam and Bucky to the floor. He was perched on top of a light post, saying something about impressing my father. Sam's mini falcon whizzed past me and grabbed Spider-Man by the web. He got pulled out a window, banging his side into the pane on the way out. I ran over to Sam and Bucky. Quickly, I destroyed the webbing and helped them up. They both gave me a quick "Thanks kid," before running back out. I followed them, staying loose on their trail.

Once I got outside my eyes scanned the area for the Spider. I saw Wanda piling cars on my father and Natasha fighting Clint. Then I spotted him, fighting Cap. He was underneath a jet bridge . Cap threw his shield at the support beams and the whole thing fell on top of Spider-Man. He caught it of course, but Cap ran away. I formed my plan.

"Hey!" I called out. I walked around the collapsing jet bridge. I stood in front of the struggling boy. Or man, I didn't know. "Remember me?"

"Heh, how could I forget such a pretty face," he grunted, starting to fold under the weight of the jet bridge. "You wanna give me a hand?" I glared at his face comment, but lifted the jet bridge anyway. He ran out and I let it fall. Both of us stopped for a minute, gasping for breath beside the rubble. He was close enough to hit. So I did. Without warning I threw a punch of air at him. It hit him right in the chest and he got blown back into the side of a van. "What the hell man?" He got up and shot a web at me. I dodged and threw another gust of wind. It shot him out of the air. He webbed at a pole and swung past my face. I redirected his gravitational pull, but not before he got a kick to my face. We both got thrown in different directions. I landed hard on the ground, pain shooting up my spine. I got up first, now angry. Forgetting about my powers, I lunged at him and threw a punch. I missed and he shot webs at my feet, holding me down. Immediately, I dissolved them and Spider-Man's eyes widened. Well, his mask's eye holes did anyway.

"How did you do that?" He yelled. "What kind of witchcraft-"

"Its not witchcraft," I spat. "It's called manipulation of the elements, look it up. I figured there had to be some water compound in this and I was right. All I had to do was remove it."

"That's so cool! And how did you do the foot thing earlier? Was that just the wind you do or do you have telekinesis too? Are you like the Scarlet Witch?" He rambled on. I took this to my advantage and caught him off guard. I used the van he'd hit earlier to become his gravitational pull and yanked. He went slamming into it and groaned. When he tried to get back up, I was already five steps ahead of him. Morphing the earth metals in the van, I contorted it into a shell that crushed Spider-Man until he was covered and stuck.

I heard Scott say that he was gonna tear himself in half over the earpiece. I got distracted from holding Spider-Man down and turned to see a giant Scott. Spider-Man broke free. He tore the shell off himself and threw it at me. I was wacked across the side and fell the the ground again.

"Holy shit!" he says, looking at Scott. His back was to me and I gave him one last wind push. He fell on his face and I laughed. "Oh come on, don't you have some dolls to play with or something?" I just scoffed and walked past him, stepping past his hand that was on the ground. He let out a yelp and you kept walking. Dolls, I thought. I'm thirteen I don't play with dolls. I watched as the rest of the battle went down. I wasn't quite sure what to do. I jumped when I felt a hand on my shoulder.

Natasha was standing just behind me. "Come with me." We started jogging off. It was natural for me to listen to her. I realized about five seconds in that technically she was my enemy right about now, but I shrugged it off. I ran through the fight, past the big Scott and towards a warehouse. I could see the outline of a jet get bigger as I approached it. Natasha stopped behind the entrance. She was waiting.

"So what do we do?" I asked.

"We wait to fight," She replied, not taking her eyes off the horizon. I came to realize this probably means I would be fighting her. Maybe she wanted to use me as a hostage or something. No, that's silly. Right?

Steve and Bucky got closer to the building I was in. They nearly made it until Vision laser beamed the shit out of a nearby communications tower. Wanda caught it before it fell, giving the two men time to race towards the jet. I stepped out to help Wanda. The both of us were able to hold the rubble long enough for Steve and Bucky to get through. I panted, proud of myself for getting this far.

A searing pain sliced through my brain. Both myself and Wanda fell to the ground, screaming. I could barely look up to see that Rhodey was sending some sort of wave through the air. The tower fell and Natasha was quick to haul me out of the way before I got crushed. I might be better than Spider-Man, but I definitely don't have his super strength.

Steve and Bucky still managed to get through the falling paces of metal and concrete. Natasha left my side and marched swiftly towards the two men. I couldn't hear them, but I could sense the tension from a mile away. Natasha lifted her arm, taser aimed and ready. Steve held his shield up in defense as Natasha shoots....the Black Panther? I guess she's on our side now? The jet started to take off and you watch an Natasha continues to battle the Panther. I fell to my side, wiped out.

My father flew into the warehouse just as the jet leaves. You thought maybe he was going to fight Natasha for betraying him. I was wrong. He was coming for me. He landed beside me and dropped to his knees. His helmet closed and I could see the worry plastered on his cut up face. He knelt beside me and gently held me up.

"Are you okay?" he asked. I nodded, not really able to make words. He looked over at Natasha, who was looking at us. She had an apologetic look, but I know she doesn't regret letting Cap go. My father let me go and charged off after the jet plane. I lied down, enjoying the feeling of cold concrete against your skin. I closed my eyes.

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

I paced around the living room, driving Nat crazy. I knew that the second my father got home I would be in deep shit. So when Friday alerted me that Tony was home my heart rate went up 29373%. The battle, this fight, it ended worse then I could have imagined. Natasha told me that my father could have died. Rhodey was paralyzed from the waist down. I had no idea if I'd ever see my Pops again. This was bad. Very, very bad.

I slowly walked down the main hall towards the front doors. I was scared. My hands and the back of my neck were sweating. I knew exactly what was coming. Every time I had asked my dad if I could be an honorary Avenger, I got the same lecture. That it was too dangerous, I didn't have the proper training and it's too much for his little girl to handle. Even when I asked to just be a part of the business side of the team, Tony laughed and said no. I've broken a lot of my father's rules, but this was the line. And I had gone so far over.

As I approached the front door, I could hear my father speaking. I heard another voice too. My heart dropped. It was Spider-Man. Why was Spider-Man here? I ducked behind a wall and listened in to the conversation.

"...outstanding job kid. Your fighting technique was on par. And, listen, I know we're not allowed to have kids on this team, but if we need you again, we'll call." I heard my father say.

"Thanks Mr. Stark. This was so cool," Spider-Man replied. I wondered if he had his suit on or not. I wanted to know who this guy was. I revealed myself from behind the wall. The two looked at me. I looked at my father first and fought the urge to burst into tears. He looked awful. His face was all cut up and the black eye he got was still a little swollen. I glanced at the figure beside him and frowned. Spider-Man was a kid. He looked like he was my age. He had a mop of curly brown hair and doe eyes. He was almost equally as beat up as my dad and I gracefully took credit for that.

"Y/n, this is Peter. He's, uh, one of my interns. Kid, this is Y/n," Tony said. My annoyance turned to anger. Now my father was lying to me?

"How old are you?" I asked, eyes narrowing. I knew that I sounded rude, but this kid had kicked me in the face twice. I didn't think he deserved my manners.

"I'm fourteen," Peter gulped. A year older than me. And I kicked his ass, I thought. "You gave me quite a fight back in Berlin."

"Yeah and I beat your ass doing it."

"Speaking of which," Tony spoke up, "I have to talk to Y/n about that. Happy will take you home Peter." Peter nodded and said goodbye to my father. He said goodbye to me, to which I didn't reply. Peter frowned at that as he walked out the door.

My dad turned to me when the door shut. "What," he began, "were you thinking?"

"Well I-"

"No. This is where you listen. Do you know how dangerous that mission was. Do you know how many people got hurt? You saw what happened to Rhodey, that could have been you!"

"But it wasn't" I retorted.

Tony's frown deepened. "That is not the point. You put yourself in serious danger, and for what? So you could feel a little more included? You could have died. This was my one rule, my one ask of you, and your broke it."

"Oh, come on now, I'm a Stark, it's in our blood to not listen to our fathers." My father gave me the coldest look and I shut down. I took a deep breath. "Look, I didn't know that it was gonna be this bad. You know me, daddy, I'm not a fighter, I'm not some hero. You think I would have gone if I knew it would turn out like this? I thought this was just gonna be another one your you and Pops' stupid fights. And yes, I could have gotten hurt, but I think I handled myself pretty well. You saw what I did you that little protege of yours. I beat him to the curb."

"Y/n you were reckless. Peter was prepared for this, he was ready."

"And I still beat him."

"Y/n you're not listening to me. This is why I chose Peter over you. I would have taken you if I knew you wouldn't do something stupid. But you did anyway." And with that he walked away, leaving me, teary-eyed in the front hall.

Tony came by my room later that night to apologize. He said that he was sorry for being harsh, that he just cared about me and I scared him. I knew he meant it and I forgave him, because that's what we do. Besides, it wasn't Tony I was angry with. This is why I chose Peter over you. Tony's words echoed through my head. I knew that he loved me more, I'm his daughter, he had to. But I were jealous. Jealous that stupid Peter Parker got the praise for the work I've wanted to hear for ages. And mad at that stupid spider for being stupid.

This is when I decided that I hate Peter Parker.

[butwhatifidothis]

Fighting someone in that enlightened edelgard comment and they really pulled the "edelgard's war was necessary because crests bad!!" Bruh

Alright so like... why does Edelgard think Crests bad? What is she willing to propose to society as an alternative to Crests that won't similarly be abused by those with money and power? If Hanneman is able to conduct Crest research and is allowed to build his machines that gets rid of the need for Crests on all routes, even on SS and even if Rhea comes back as archbishop, then why did Edelgard need to start the war if that was her real goal? What problems do Crests specifically and uniquely bring to society?

Because Sylvain, Ingrid, Lorenz, anyone else who feels that they're only good for their Crest or need to marry due to their Crest? They'd literally be in the same position without them, because they're still high-end nobles with pretty titles and nice power that commoners would want a piece of or that their families would marry off to others families for more money and power (or any, in Ingrid's case). Crests change nothing, save for Sylvain getting the nice heir title from this unfair inheritance system over Miklan were it the usual "lol I popped outta Mom first" inheritance system.

Mercedes? Ah yes, because incest would never occur in noble families were it not for Crests, think I read that in my history class before.

Dorothea? Her having a Crest would have actually saved her and her mother (or at least her) from a life of poverty, so oops.

Hanneman's sister? Ah yes, right after the section where my history books told me that incest don't real, it says that women were never ever forced to unhealthily bear multiple children until their husband gets one he wants.

The only ones I can think of that were fucked over specifically and only by specifically and only Crests are Edelgard, Lysithea, and Marianne. The first two are so unbelievably unlikely to happen to anyone in the general Crest-bearing populace as to damn near be laughable - fun as Two Crests AU's are, this shit only happens the twice, once for the setup and once with the refinements from the first. This isn't something most, many, some, a few, or really fuckin' anyone has to deal with, this is something extremely specific to Edelgard and Lysithea. And similarly, Marianne, while facing most of her trauma because of uniquely Crests, only does so because she literally just so happens to be born with the literal one Crest in all of Fodlan that is feared and hated.

Like, Crests could have easily actually been a big deal in Fodlan, but like... damn near anything that could rise from specifically Crests gets taken care of pretty easy lol?? Like, Marianne just needs to beat the shit out of Maurice and she's fine(r). Edelgard and Lysithea's shit is reversible and is able to have its the biggest side effect of having two Crests be erased (for Lysithea, cuz as I've said I don't think Edelgard has any problems with the two Crest shit). Balthus' shit where "Ohhh, people will really fuck over Kupala if they find out it has Chevalier Crest bearers!!" gets solved by the Church itself stepping in and keeping it hush hush for Kupala's safety and that making it to where Balthus' more qualified Crest-less brother gets the inheritance (so much for wanting no one but Crest bearers to rule over Fodlan!). Some bitches literally are completely unaffected by Crests (Hilda, Linhardt, Yuri <- as far as I know, I'm sure there are others).

Hilariously enough, very few people in the cast actually benefit from Crests specifically due to Crests - the only ones I can think of off the top of my head are maybe Lambert (if you wanna count him) and Claude (let him prove his right to inheritance).

Like. Before adopting Marianne, Edmund was able to rise to Margrave through good financial and oratory skills - that's a higher position than Count. Y'know. Like Count Gloucester? Ordelia for all we can surmise has no Crest and bears the same title as Gloucester regardless. Count Rowe in the Kingdom is higher than Baron Dominic - Baron's, like, the lowest fuckin' noble title! Even the Empire, shitty as it is, doesn't have this problem! Bergliez, no Crest, House of Military Affairs for an Empire.

People hear Crests and see them packaged as a unique evil specific to Fodlan by the characters who were born and raised in this society and who have little to no reference to the world outside of Fodlan and so wouldn't know that most of this shit literally happens everywhere and they just, fuckin', forget!! That this shit ain't new!! Crests are just First-Born-Noble Syndrome wrapped in pretty shiny wrapping paper. Petra, a royal from Brigid, literally never mentions Crests, and Claude only does so out of curiosity over them - almost like, as nobility outside of Fodlan, Crests are just weird to them and nothing else! They likely know the same shit would happen to these nobles with or without Crests because they know a world without Crests, unlike those of Fodlan!

Getting rid of Crests seems like it will change a lot of Fodlan... until you remember that they're dying out anyway so Fodlan is already in a transition period where they'd become relics of the past, until you remember that, again, most of the shit wrong that comes with Crests actually comes with nobility in general, until you remember that a majority of the characters either don't care about Crests or are otherwise unaffected by them.

And like, we know that Edelgard doesn't actually give a shit about Crests lmao that is damn sure not a major reason why she started the war, she started the war because she wanted to wear the big girl pants and rule over all of Fodlan and also kill the Nabateans. That's it. No shit about Crests, much as she initially posits as much - notice how that shit falls to the wayside soon as the war's actually in action, it's literally said over and over and over again that Edelgard wants to reunite Fodlan, she wants to conquer the Alliance and Kingdom, she wants to boot the Church, she wants to kill Rhea and the Children of the Goddess; Crests are a footnote in her oh so grand plans. Edelgard didn't start war cuz Crests Bad, she did it because Me Want Be Dictator

[five-rivers]

Medium Despair

For @sapphireswimming

.

Danny woke up gasping for air and fighting against his sheets. By the time he’d recognized his surroundings, he’d already rolled off his bed. He dragged in ragged, shuddering breaths. He could breathe. He could breathe. He wasn’t suffocating. He wasn’t at school, in his locker or otherwise. He could move he could stand. He did stand, skin prickling with the memory of electricity.

“Sydney?” he called, softly. “Is that you?” He could see a glowing form in the corner behind his dresser, and with that dream there weren’t a whole lot of other people it could have been, but it was polite to ask. At least in Danny’s opinion.

The ghost slid out, slowly, flickering. “Sorry, Danny,” he said, and he really did sound remorseful.

Danny might believe it more if it wasn’t 2:20 in the morning on a school night, and this wasn’t the third time Sydney had done this. Still, Sydney was something like a friend.

“What is it, Sydney?” he asked. “Did something happen at the school?” Casper High was one of the most haunted buildings in Amity Park, which honestly didn’t make sense.

Danny had done his research. The school was old, sure, but Sydney was the only person who had ever actually died there. That didn’t stop the Lunch Lady, Technus, and a whole host of others from hanging around the place, although most of those others were pretty weak. Hardly strong enough to even interact with Danny or other ghosts.

Sydney shrugged.

“Then what’s wrong?”

Sydney looked down at the ground. The puddle of not-light he cast on the ground – visible only to only Danny and other ghosts – rippled and glimmered.

Danny frowned. “I have fun talking to you during the day, Syd, but I do have to sleep. I’m human, you know?”

“I know,” said Sydney.

“So why are you here?” asked Danny, briefly spreading his arms in exasperation and the dropping them to his sides again. He was still unsettled by the dream he’d just had.

Being close to ghosts while he was sleeping was just a recipe for nightmares. They weren’t always about their deaths, but more often than not…

Sydney’s death was a particularly unpleasant one. Danny did not expect to get back to sleep. Not tonight. Hence his annoyance.

“I need to…” started Sydney, before trailing off. “I need…”

“Sydney?”

“Warn you.”

“About what?”

“Not what they seem,” whispered the ghost. He looked away and phased out through the wall.

Danny’s frown deepened. Usually, Sydney was much clearer than that. Sometimes, talking to Sydney, Danny forgot he was talking to a ghost.

Danny sat down at the edge of the bed and tried to work a kink out of his neck. He caught himself scratching at his skin as if he wanted to pull it off a minute later.

It was always like this since the accident. Especially after he had a dying dream.

Forcibly, he stopped himself. His skin was fine. There was no electricity flickering under his skin. He was alive. He was safe. His body was his body. His body.

(He was not floating above it, light as air, staring at its waxy pallor, at the glassy, empty eyes.)

He was alive, alive, alive.

Awake.

Not dead.

Slowly, he laid back down on the bed. He was alive, awake. A medium, yes, associated with more ghosts than could possibly be healthy, either physically or mentally, yes, but alive. Definitely, clearly, alive.

He didn’t like it when ghosts woke him up. Especially when they came with ominous warnings about the future.

Maybe Sydney would let Danny track him down tomorrow, but Danny doubted it.

.

“Something’s off,” said Danny, staring up at the tall front of the school.

“Yeah,” agreed Sam, “it’s Spirit Week. When the teachers participate in medieval rituals to brainwash us into supporting the troglodytes that ‘represent’ our school in sports.”

“I was going to argue,” said Tucker, “but that is about what it’s for, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” said Danny, “I don’t think it’s that. Probably. Unless there’s a ghost that appreciate the pun?”

“You appreciate puns.”

“I’m not a ghost,” said Danny, frowning at Sam.

“That’s true.”

Danny sighed. “I just have a bad feeling about this. I know you can’t see like I can, but… be careful. If you do see anything weird, let me know.”

“Hey, Danny!”

“Oh, I changed my mind. Kill me now, I want to be a ghost.”

Jazz ran up and threw an arm around Danny’s shoulders. “You left so early!” she said. “Are you excited about Spirit Week, too?”

“No,” said Danny.

Jazz paused, looked at Danny more closely. “You look terrible,” she said. “Maybe you should talk to the counselor?”

“Pass,” said Danny.

“You know, you’ll have to talk to me in more than monosyllables at some point.”

“Do I?”

Danny rolled his eyes.

“Anyway, I’ve got to go to talk to Mr. Lancer about my speech! Have a great Spirit Week, guys!”

She ran off.

“I will never understand her,” declared Sam. “But I think she does have a point about the counselor. Maybe they’d be able to help with the nightmares? At least the non-ghost-caused ones.”

“All my nightmares are caused by ghosts.”

“Eh,” said Tucker, giving a half-shrug.

“Will it make you feel better if I agree to go?”

“Yes,” said both Sam and Tucker.

“Ugh. Fine,” said Danny.

.

Danny walked though the deserted hallway, pass in hand, study hall abandoned behind him as he looked for the counselor’s office. He’d never been there before, but it should be around here somewhere, right?

A cold hand settled on his shoulder.

“You must be Danny Fenton! Your sister told me all about you.”

Danny turned to look up at a tall woman. She was dressed a lot more flamboyantly than Danny would have expected.

“Yeah? That’s me. Who are you?”

“I’m Penelope Spectra. Your counselor! Why don’t you tell me what’s wrong with you?”

“Uh,” said Danny. There was something unpleasantly an unexpectedly pejorative and assumptive about that statement. Weren’t counselors supposed to tell you that there wasn’t anything wrong with you? That your feelings were valid.

He shrugged. He couldn’t put his feelings into words.

(Couldn’t open his mouth for fear of cold leaking out past his teeth, his soul exhaled with his breath.)

(Why did he feel this way?)

“Why don’t you step into my office?”

The room was… not what he expected.

“Sorry about the dust,” said Spectra. “I’m just moving in. They upgraded me.” She smiled, showing all her teeth. “So… like I said, your sister told me a lot about you, and I have a few things I’d like to try for your laz—Excuse me. Your difficulty with staying focused. It happens sometimes with traumatic brain injuries, that a promising young mind can be—Well. In any case. I am here to support you and find a way for you to succeed. What’s troubling you?”

Danny’s ginger perch on the dusty chair turned into a frustrated slump. “Nothing,” he said. He pushed himself back up. “I should go—”

“Oh, just humor me,” said Spectra. “There has to be some reason you came. Anxiety? Stress? Social pressures?”

Danny shook his head and stood up.

“Nightmares?”

He sat back down.

.

Danny leaned over the table to whisper to Tucker during English, when they were supposed to be reviewing vocabulary words.

“Have either of you seen the counselor before?” asked Danny, after what was easily the worst week of his life. He was starting to have suspicions, but…

“Yeah,” said Tucker. “When you were in the hospital. He was pretty cool.”

“He?” asked Danny. “He?”

“Yeah?”

“I’ve been seeing a ghost for the past week.”

“Ghost therapist? Well, if it’s working…”

“It isn’t. She’s from hell. I swear. A literal demon from hell.”

“Exorcism?”

“Exorcism.”

.

Jazz didn’t often come to school after hours, but she’d left several important things and she was the student body activity director, voted for and everything.

Important thing #1, her speech, which she had to practice.

Important thing #2, the—what was that?

Already spooked by the late-night atmosphere, she ducked into a doorway and peeked at the place she’d seen movement. There weren’t many classes held down that hallway, and she didn’t come down this way often, so maybe she was just—

No. That was her little brother and his friends conducting some kind of satanic ritual over a wastepaper basket.

Their parents were terrible influences. She was going to give them a stern talking to when—what what what what WHAT—

What had she just seen?

She looked back around the corner to see the… whatever it was dissolve in smoke and fire and shadows. Then Danny and his friends started cleaning up as if this was a perfectly normal Thursday night.

Jazz… Jazz was going to process this. Later.

She turned around and walked straight back out to her car. There was, after all, nothing that important.

.

“So,” said Danny, leaning towards Sam on the bleachers as he watched his sister give her speech. “Looks like we saved Spirit Week.”

“Never say that to me again,” said Sam.

“But we did. Look at all this spirit-filled people.”

“You were literally the only victim.”

“But Sam~”

“It does seem less grim, though, doesn’t it?” asked Tucker, contemplatively. “You are no longer the goth bird of happiness.”

“Maybe a bit,” allowed Sam. “I think that’s just because everyone’s glad this week is over, though. No offense, Danny.”

“None taken. I’m glad it’s over, too.”

[robbyrobinson]

VILLAIN REVIEW: KING ANDRIAS (AMPHIBIA)

Voiced by: Keith David

First Appearance: Marcy at the Gates

Admittedly, Amphibia didn't instantly hook me in ways that Gravity Falls or the Owl House had. The first season was okay what with the worldbuilding and stuff. But Season 2 definitely improved especially because of this guy.

BIOGRAPHY

Thousands of years ago, he was the ruler of Newtopia who was in charge of the Calamity Box, an interdimensional device that could allow people to travel to other worlds. From there, he claimed that his ancestors were peaceful explorers who used the box to communicate. One day, the box was stolen with him believing his two former friends betrayed him. From there, Newtopia lost a bit of its greatness....

At least until the day Anne Boonchuy, Marcy Wu, and Sasha Waybright inadvertently end up in Amphibia after Anne is peer pressured into stealing the box from an antique store. From there, in his own words, the game could finally begin.

PERSONALITY

Keith David does a brilliant job portraying the king of Amphibia. At first glance, Andrias comes off as being a jovial, childish monarch who comes across as a "kewl grandpa", not spelled "cool," but "K-E-W-L." He comes off as delighted with helping Anne and the girls find a way back home...maybe a bit too eager. Honestly, the first time that I have seen him, I already mentally worked it out that he would be a bad guy because a lot of those kings in cartoons turn out as such. Not to say that it really takes away from the overall performance, it is just kind of obvious.

Yet, there are several subtle hints of his true nature just at the surface such as when he and Marcy conduct research on the Calamity Box and find a secret passageway that he "did not know about." If you notice, he has a smug smile across his face before joining Marcy in the passage.

But it's once his true colors are exposed where he truly shines. To make it short and simple, Andrias is evil. Purely and simply evil. So far, he has all the cards as likely becoming one of the most evil of the Disney animated television shows, possibly competing with the heavier hitters like Lunaris, Bulba, or Bill freaking Cipher.

He is ruthless: he wants to rule over all worlds with an iron fist and will absolutely NOT let anything come in between him and his schemes. He can kill a sapient robot without batting an eye and then the next moment smoothly try to batter a baby frog with his fist. If you have a best friend, he'd think nothing of dangling them over a window and threaten to drop them if his demands are not met. And then do so anyway because he is a dick.

Make no mistakes: Andrias passes the criteria for a sociopath with glowing colors. He is manipulative. He puts on the superficial charm of a grandfather-like figure while secretly stringing people along and manipulating them like chess pieces. What he does to Marcy is the dickish cherry on top of the douchebag sundae. He exploits a 13-year-old's desperation of wanting to stay with her two best friends and pretends to empathize with her even offering her a deal that he knew was like sweet nectar to her: when he invades other worlds, she and her friends will travel the worlds together having several amazing adventures.

He lacks empathy or emotional attachments. Already you have some people going off the trailer for season 3 saying that Andrias definitely was fond of Marcy because she was shown in a rejuvenation machine. Sure, I can totally see where people are coming from. I mean, it's not like it was his own fault for putting her there to begin with. That's a crazy thought. In all seriousness, he only sees Marcy as a pawn in his schemes and his only response to stabbing her is an irritated "Now look what you made me do." Way to blame the victim for your own acts, Andrias.

He had two friends thousands of years ago that even now it is apparent he holds resentment towards them for "betraying" him. Him deciding to drop Sprig was him basically wanting Anne to go through the same pain he felt when he was "wronged." But that does nothing to EXPLAIN why he is such a sociopathic megalomaniac. If anything, how the episode plays it off is that his "friends" betrayed him because he was a psychotic salamander with delusions of grandeur. Given how much of a bully he was once he was revealed to be evil, I am really wondering if that could have also played into it. But it looks like the show is doing this to make Andrias more of a foil for Anne and her two friends.

And, currently, he has absolutely no remorse for any of his actions. He giddily reveals Marcy's secret that she was the one who deliberately stranded herself and her friends in Amphibia in the first place even when he knew that she told him that in confidence. He then mockingly apologizes for "spilling the tea."

And what is a sociopath if not egotistical? Andrias believes that he alone should rule over not just Amphibia, but the Earth, and other worlds. He doesn't care whether or not people will bow to his rule as the tapestry itself shows. He is standing over a pile of bones making it very explicit what his invasions will result in should Anne and her team fail to stop him.

But I will not deny that he is a scarily competent threat who doesn't mess around.

ABILITIES

He has lived for 1,000+ years. It is not confirmed if it has to do with the particular breed of salamander he is, or if his longevity comes in part due to his 13-eyed master whom he is helping accomplish this "revenge" by subverting a prophecy having to do with the three human girls.

Besides his manipulation and charisma, Andrias is a competent fighter. Despite being colossal and a bit on the chunky side, he is surprisingly agile and wields a flaming sword. He is also insanely stout. Even when Anne goes Super Saiyan mode on his ass, he could still hold his ground with the use of his shield.

He also has knowledge over machinery and can command his robo-frog army with ease.

FINAL SCORE

Biography: 6

Personality:

Abilities: 7

Overall: 7/10

[penguinkinggames]

“Cerebos: The Crystal City” Actual Play Part II: Reconstruction

This is the second in a series of posts recounting a session of actual play from Cerebos: the Crystal City, currently crowdfunding on Kickstarter. The first part can be found here:

https://tumblr.penguinking.com/post/646498084013195264

This session was conducted on March 20th, 2021, with Matthew Dorbin as GM, and Amelia Gorman, Ashley Flanagan, Will Mendoza, and Kevin Snow playing. The events of play were recorded by Zach Welhouse.

When last we left our travelers, they’d just reached their first Stop, a city lost to the desert. Its only inhabitants are skeletons with manes and beards made of precious metals. Researchers from Inferno Heavy Industries have a great interest in these conductive skeletons, nevermind the living passengers.

The unresolved Danger from the Events on the train has made this Stop more perilous. The train Danger is reduced to 0, and the Events resolve in a way that makes sense for the story, but their impact increases the Stop Danger.

Stop Actions: Inferno Heavy Industries Outpost #7G

A Stop consists of a single round of Stop actions; each traveler will act once before the train moves on.

The Lady in Blue saunters over to the Inferno Heavy Industries scientists and learns they’re looking into a new phenomenon! When no one’s looking she Seizes an Opportunity to start nicking bone silver and supplying it to the ants. Although this raises tensions between the scientists and the ants, fewer skeletons threaten the passengers.   Initially the Lady in Blue rolls a setback, but she uses the Nick of Time trait attached to her gun to reroll one die. With a partial success, she pulls off the heist of the evening. The Stop Danger lowers to 4, but the lure of her criminal past intensifies. She gains one Momentum on her gun.  

The Lonely Seafarer approaches the danger from a more diplomatic position, badgering the lead ant with Morse questions: “Do they have a qualified Death Ray Engineer? Where did they receive their certification? I’ve never heard of the issuing institute? Try me.”   It’s a partial success. Several ants, unused to the heavy question, drop their cargo and flee. She reduces the Danger to 3, but gains one Momentum on her hat. It turns out she’s a person who is used to ordering people around. Or she’s a person with a very important hat. Either way, she’d better hold on to that hat and the authority it represents!  

Tinderling is a woman of action! While everyone else is resorting to thievery or tricks of rhetoric, she lays into a mob of electric dead with her fists and her bird bone sewing needle.   It’s another partial success. She reduces the Danger to 2, but decides to take Damage as her consequence. The skeletons don’t go down without a fight.  

The Unqualified Robot has never been in a situation like this -- at least as far as it knows! While everyone else is stealing, speaking, or swashbuckling, it rifles through its collection of face plates for an appropriate emotion. Finally, it decides on a bug-eyed expression of alarm. It waves its arms, attempting to communicate the danger posed by the skeletons to the scientists, who are now more concerned with studying the sentient ants.   Failure. The scientists ignore the robot, one of them knocking it to the ground like it’s an inconveniently placed chair. While it’s down, ants seize the opportunity to pilfer some more components. The Unqualified Robot takes its second Damage. It scrambles to recover the most important bits, but reattaches them in an inhuman configuration. Somehow this feels right, like whatever it’s becoming is more correct than what it was.

Despite the Unqualified Robot’s poor efforts, the travelers lowered the Stop’s danger enough for the night to pass uneventfully. The ants wander off with whatever they can carry while the scientists handle the remaining skeletons.

They travelers leave without consequences; however, it wasn’t a relaxing stay and they don’t get a keepsake. If they wanted to leave the worksite with a souvenir, they could have risked spending more Traits to reroll their partial successes or addressed the events plaguing the train before it stopped. Some Stops are naturally more dangerous than others, so luck (and certain Conductor abilities) also impact the outcome.

Some time later, possibly another day, the travelers enjoy lunch in the dining car, paying with Inferno Heavy Industries scrip.

Fourth Round of Train Actions

The Unqualified Robot shares a flashback with Tinderling while Tinderling eats. Tinderling had been admiring its face plates, and it was certain it had seen her rail spike before.   Back in the City by the Sea, the Unqualified Robot was unable to sell the gadgets it had been created to sell. To earn oil money it started scabbing at a factory while Tinderling marched the picket lines outside.   One day Tinderling confronts the Unqualified Robot while it’s pushing a wheelless wheelbarrow full of trash past the picket: “There has to be a better place for people like you. Or robots like you. You have better things to do than sell your soul to this company. If you have a soul? Or sell your labour!”    At this point, the Unqualified Robot only owns smiley face slides. So it smiles. Tinderling hands it a rail spike: “Throw it! Show it who’s boss!” The robot weighs the spike in its hand and uses it to scratch angry eyebrows onto its faceplate. Then it throws the spike through the factory window. In the ensuing riot, the Uncanny Robot is badly injured.   As a result of the shared flashback, Tinderling’s rail spike gains the Rabble Rouser trait. The Unqualified Robot’s expression slides gain Angry Eyebrows.

The travelers are shocked back to the present by a cheerful announcement from the conductor: “Everything’s fine. Don’t worry about this. We’re just coming up on the Rail Labyrinth. Seems it’s time for my annual performance review. Worst case, I’m fired and we’re stuck in here forever and die.” The mess of competing tracks from before was nothing compared to the snarl of dead-ends, different gauges, and switchbacks the train enters.The Rail Labyrinth is a Danger 3 Event. The conductor could probably handle it on her own, but it’s going to be a bumpy ride!

The Lonesome Seafarer looks pensively through her broken spyglass to Engage the Event and sketches a few suggestions on a napkin. When it comes down to it, land navigation is like sea navigation, only easier. It’s an Inspired Success, which reduces the Danger to 1. She rushes her chart to the conductor, who’s going at her charts with specialized tools. “What is this?” the conductor asks. “It’s the way out of here!” responds the Seafarer. “Take a right, take a left!  

Tinderling is unconcerned by the Rail Labyrinth. She’s been keeping an eye on the Unqualified Robot, who’s been taking a beating. In a way, she got it into this mess, so she does what she can to repair the damage.   It’s been collecting bits of scrap to enhance its body. She offers her rail spike. It wielded the spike with conviction once; maybe now it can serve a different purpose. The bond of camaraderie is strong like steel.   Tinderling rolls an Ugly Break to give away her touchstone. She gains one Contemplation, but also gains one Momentum to her burnt match. She has to hold on to the fire and anger that set her on this path, or else all her sacrifices will have been for nothing. If she gives that away, someone will probably take it as a symbol of hope, peace, or something altogether too soft. The Unqualified Robot gains a new femur, which means it’s more human, right?  

The Lady in Blue observes the Lonesome Seafarer’s burst of action and authority. She’s like a different person when she’s giving commands! Did the spyglass help her focus? The two travelers catch eyes and the steel labyrinth flashback into one of wind and waves.   The Lonesome Seafarer is adrift without the guidance of Second Mate Scurvy. No one else in the crew will stand up to her in the helpful-but-confrontational way that Scurvy did so well. She grows harsher in her methods, challenging the crew to fight back. None do.   One awful night, she thinks she sees the ghost of Scurvy mouthing guidance. What’s that he’s saying? It’s either “Don’t mind me,” or “Come find me!” “Scurvy, that’s unhelpful!” the Lonesome Seafarer says, worrying she’s talking to a delusion. “Sorry! I’m a ghoo~oost,” Scurvy responds. The Lonesome Seafarer’s spyglass gains the Tunnel Vision trait.

Fifth Round of Train Actions

The Rail Labyrinth isn’t so bad, once everyone gets used to the sudden stops and jerks. Progress slows, so they turn to idle conversation.

Tinderling strikes up a conversation with the Lady in Blue. Something about her shabby finery suggests she may be an ally in the coming revolution. Take that burned handbag, for instance.   The Lady in Blue flashes back to when her bag was burned. She’s sitting in a car outside a bank. Alarms are going off inside and the building is on fire. Isabelle (not her real name) rushes out and tosses a handbag full of money into the car.   “Was fire part of the plan?” the Lady in Blue asks. Fire was not part of the plan. This was supposed to be a simple heist, but she escalated to arson. One of these days she’s going to get somebody killed. The next morning, Isabelle and the cash are gone. Two people died in the heist, turns out!   The empty bag gains the Score to Settle trait.

Two more flashbacks means it’s time for a new Event. Inferno Heavy Industries keeps on piling on the training exercises. The conductor alerts everyone to the newest sights: “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. We’re entering an area of particular geological interest. If you look out on either side, you will see the site of the second part of my performance review. We are now entering Cactortle Canyon.”

Cactortles are large, friendly beasts. Trains are a novelty and a chance to scratch their itchy backs, making Cactortle Canyon a Danger 3 event. The Rail Labyrinth is still hanging in there with Danger 1, setting the total Danger at 4.

The Unqualified Robot starts throwing junk from its bag at the cactortles. Only by divesting itself of the signs of its former life can it find new purpose. Even better, it means throwing things at wildlife that are threatening to ram the train. The Robot’s Engage an Event roll is abysmal (1 + 3), so it takes a swig from its flask and uses its Drowning Sorrows trait to upgrade to a partial success (4 +3).   This is a moment of triumph, but also one of somber self-reflection: “I’m most successful when throwing things.” The Robot gains a point of Momentum on its sack of gadgets.  

The Lady in Blue values a clean plan with no complications. She ties a rope around her body and climbs onto the train’s roof. From the raised vantage point, she’s able to see the way out of the Rail Labyrinth. She rolls a success, lowering the Rail Labyrinth’s Danger to 0.   Since the Lonesome Seafarer and the Lady in Blue both contributed to lowering the Rail Labyrinth’s Danger, one of them will receive a keepsake of the event. The GM rolls a die and the Seafarer reflects on her newfound respect for infrastructure engineers. They can be right jerks! The keepsake also provides one rank to her Navigator trait.  

The Lonesome Seafarer and the Lady in Blue are a good team. They guided the train through the Rail Labyrinth with flying colors. It’s almost like being back at sea. Something about their teamwork is familiar.   The pair share a flashback where they decide to set out for Cerebos together. The Lady in Blue may have seen someone who matched Scurvy’s description, while the Lonesome Seafarer has heard tales of the Lady in Red. It’s not so bad, traveling together.   The Lady in Blue’s hat gains the Tying up Loose Ends trait, while the Seafarer’s coat gains Old Friends Not Forgotten.

The Lady in Blue and the Lonesome Seafarer have both experienced three flashbacks. The players talk among themselves to determine which of the two stories they want to see take center stage. After some back and forth, they decide the Lady in Blue’s tale of revenge is the most compelling, so she becomes the story’s Seeker.

The other travelers weigh in on the Lady in Blue’s dilemma. Do they want to be Saints, encouraging her of the righteousness of her quest to bring an end to her sister, or are they Demons, forces of caprice and change?

The Lonesome Seafarer is a Demon: she’s not one to support the killing of a long-lost family member, as she’s been looking for one of those herself, in a manner of speaking. The Unqualified Robot is a Saint. It’s been radicalized by its journey, and violence has been more effective than words in producing optimal results. Tinderling is likewise a Saint. Sometimes people need to make hard decisions to clear ground for a worthwhile future.

From here, the journey embarks upon its final leg: the Lady in Blue has been identified as the story’s protagonist, and the others will act in their capacity as Saints and Demons to shape how her story ends. In the third and final post in this series, we’ll see what end that is!

[shattered-catalyst]

OCD Subtypes for the RPC

Part 1 is here

Well well well, we are back for Part 2 of the Roleplayer’s Guide to OCD.

Fellow Ocd Folks, I see you in those tags and I'm going to do my best to ensure those obsessions are represented here- BUT understand that physically it is not going to be possible to list every single one because I am one person.  Regardless its incredibly brave of you all to rb and add things in the tags, I know its hard to talk about this shit and I see you. I see you.

Resultantly I typed this out and posted it in formatting to assist with accessibility in mind; if you cannot read it still ( I tried Im sorry!) i recommend the copy and paste method or getting the chrome extension bee-line reader.

 There will be grammatical and spelling mistakes. Im sure spacing is odd some places, but you have to understand doing this is extremely anxiety provoking for me so Im just getting it done when I can.

Remember to use your critical thinking; not everyone has the same symptoms/compulsions/triggers and all that.

OCD is fluid. Its like liquid mercury. One day its a handful of subtypes another day its another different serving.

If you are in general squicked about certain topics even by mention read ahead with your own judgement. Remember us folks that have OCD have many disturbing and distressing experiences so if you are writing a character who has OCD and you can’t read about it just don’t give them that obsessive thought/ compulsion. Make sure writing is still a safe and enjoyable hobby for yourself first and foremost.

But ethically and morally I cannot and will not leave out the more disturbing bits. You have the ability to scroll by, I and many others do not get the chance to escape triggering content that our own mind creates.

So read ahead with your best judgement or at least skip around the squicky parts and educate yourself on what OCD is so people quite using it as a Obsessive Christmas/Corgi/Cat Disorder thing. Alright? Cool beans.

Okay so you made it passed post 1 and got under the read more. Give yourself a gold star for diving into this monster of a document.

Below is a crash course it is not meant to replace actual psychoeducation, personal research, or google. Honestly most of us do our research extensively but because OCD is treated so horribly by social media, media, and society in general.

I wasn’t sure where to throw these together because the education tools to learn fully about OCD are very specialized and thus very restricted. I found that many people DO have these experiences with OCD though so I will represent them throughout. I’ll also sprinkle some of my own experiences so you can get a good reference of a person who has the disorder and not just a randomly generated person.

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So OCD is made up of Obsessions, Trigger, Intrusive thought, Misinterpretation/feared consequence,Somatic and Psychological Anxiety, and Compulsions/Rituals.

Your character may not be able to list all of these. In fact if they aren't in ERP therapy they may not be able to puzzle these things out. But YOU as the writer should know them. Your character won’t be walking around talking to just ANYONE that they have OCD. Remember a huge aspect of OCD is it’s Shame.  The disorder makes us feel intense shame regarding our intrusive thoughts, as a result OCD goes undiagnosed for years especially if it has pediatric onset.

  We won’t tell anyone what we are experiencing or why we are doing x y or z. We act like nothing is wrong because to emotionally react is to admit to yourself- and therefore the world- that you have had this intrusive thought and are therefore by virtue a horrible person.[For further information I would suggest also researching PANDAS].

It may be noticeable if your character has an intrusive thought. They may wince or grimace or roll their eyes certainly, but they won’t open up to Joe at the cafe about how their brain is constantly torturing them. I apparently have a very noticeable eye twitch.

 Depending on the nature of the intrusive thought it will get more or less of a reaction out of me. Its usually dependent on how distressing the intrusive thought is and/or if its a new one.

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You see OCD doesn’t sit still. It never looks the same. You’ll have your long haul intrusive thoughts that are with you for years but then you’ll have weird ass ones that just appear and demand their voice be heard yelling about cars hitting people or squirrels getting eaten.

Some people have similar ones! So while everyone is different there will always be someone out there with an intrusive thought similar to yours.

 For instance; I bonded emotionally with a lady on reddit because we both have intrusive thoughts during storms that animals and the homeless are dying. We were both horribly relieved to find another person and also distressed that every snow or rain storm brings horrible images and whispers to your mind that while you are warm and snug in bed someone is freezing to death. And its all your fault.

Some days are better than others. As with all mental illnesses it isn’t CONSTANT ALARM BELLS. Some days it will be all alarms and other days it will be like a gentle whisper on the breeze. You can almost not notice it. Almost.

Obsessive thoughts run the gauntlet from ‘i will/could have/may/may accidentally harm etc’ something that you hold of value. This is any obsessive thought that you have: you think about repeatedly and not by choice, it is very anxiety provoking, it is unwanted, and unwelcome.

 Mine run the scale from ‘squirrel will be murdered’ to ‘being responsible for harm’.

Compulsions or ‘rituals’ are any behavior done to alleviate the anxiety from the intrusive thought and trigger object. In short, compulsions and rituals are not fun. they are absolutely not logical, and we know they are not logical but we are forced to do them. Thats why its a disorder. 

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To emphasize from post 1: magical thinking and the faulty link between thoughts and actions are hallmarks of OCD.  Magical thinking can be anything from contamination to if I turn around three times or stare really hard at something the bad thing wont happen. Sounds weird and is weird and we know it is thats why its a disorder and not a delusion.

The faulty belief that thought=action is the biggest hurdle it is incredibly difficult to grasp, at least for me maybe some of you that have done further ERP can attest, that the mere concept of a thought not being the same as an action is completely and totally mind blowing.

Free will? Yeah thats terrifying. IDK about anyone else but free will is absolutely terrifying; what do you mean i could do anything i wanted?

Thats how you face OCD(WITH A TRAINED THERAPIST). You give in to ambiguity and the unknown. Its breaking that link between thought and action. Its incredibly difficult and draining. A five minute exposure leaves me in shatters for a week and two five minute ones had me ripping my nails past the nail beds with anxiety.

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Just a reminder: Do not have your character expose themself or expose folks with OCD to a trigger to “ help us get over with”. That is literally forcing someone with a mental illness into a break down and is not helpful. In fact its worse because a person knows about this intrusive thought and they tried to make it real. More shame and some trauma. 

If you have OCD, more likely than not a family member or significant other has tried this with the purest of intentions. But it never works like that. Theres a reason that therapists get special training for this. If people want a post on ERP I can make one at some point. 

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Actually let’s drag me with the squirrel thing as the example- fellow OCD Folks get out a pen and paper and try breaking down one of yours;

Obsession:Squirrel will be murdered

Trigger: seeing a squirrel

 Intrusive thought: Graphic images of a squirrel being murdered by a hawk/ impaling depending on the day

Misinterpretation/feared consequence: Squirrel will be killed and its all my fault

Somatic and Psychological Anxiety:intense anxiety, palms sweating, heart racing,

Compulsions/Rituals: Must stare at the squirrel to prevent bad things from happening, 

Now imagine if that is every time you see a fucking squirrel. You have somehow become completely and totally transfixed on a squirrel and nothing is going to pull your attention away or the squirrel dies- which your mind is giving you lovely images of btw.

Cute right?

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Below are the subtypes with general information/example thoughts/ and how some of these have impacted me socially because apparently some people dont understand that mental illnesses impact their social lives?? yall...

Social: This can range from ‘ i am constantly thinking i did something wrong so i have to ask for reassurance that we are still friends’ to completely unrealistic worries. Maybe its an intrusive thought that ‘ your voice is annoying them’ . There’s reassurance seeking, internal and external checking.

 It makes friendships extremely difficult and exhausting. You’re not trying to get to know someone with an annoying frat boy egging on anxiety in your brain. This can also manifest as having strict rules for yourself and ethical codes. 

My therapist likes to say she could give us (folks with OCD) a pile of hundred dollar bills and come back and they’d all be returned. Because OCD makes you so strict and morally confined. Which ISNT fun. Like I dont get pleasure over having to memorize the entire Code of Conduct!

Social Media: Its the bane of human existence some days and a lifeline the next. But what if everytime your follower count was an odd/even number it sent you into a panic attack. What if you spent all your time with intrusive thoughts that somehow someone misinterpreted a post or that someone is going to be harmed by a post you made about tapirs. 

You may be forced to block people to get your number down or keep pornbots on your blog to keep your number what you like (see there is a use for them! We sacrifice those before actual users!) You may be refreshing your page every second because ‘what if you miss a message’. It's going to look a lot like ‘check check check check reassure yourself double check your posts check check check reassure check check FALSE MEMORY check your post etc’

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Clothing/Body Image: When its not Body Dysmorphia it can be OCD. Sometimes this looks like I obsess about a body part and therefore I choose my clothes/hairstyles to hide those.  Some personal examples: as a kid I was sure that mind readers exist ( THIS IS AN OCD THING TOO I was so relieved to find that out) and that if i didnt wear  a particular hat they would see all these horrible thoughts and it would be revealed what an awful person I was. So I wore the same dumb ass bucket hat for a year (or more I cannot remember but it was a long ass time).

I was once so fixated on being given a compliment on my eye color that I wore sunglasses (even at night) to a summer camp. And if any of those teen girls in that cabin that stood up and mocked me in a crowded lunch hall by singing ‘i wear my sunglasses at night’ you all owe me 40$.

Even younger still I had intrusive thoughts. Like say, if anyone noticed I was female that i would be kidnapped so I chopped my hair very short. I altered my appearance to be very androgynous and even switched to walking more masculine. Because omg if your hips move someones going to kill you thats just how it works. ( It doesnt help I later figured out I was a lesbian)

Your wardrobe may be impacted by OCD and yes so can your body image.

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Also yes the fear of mind readers is also a thing; i always thought I was somehow faking OCD because yes that is also a…..

Faking: Do you value telling the truth? Do you detest lying ? Boy Howdy do I have some news for you. OCD is going to try and convince you that YOU LIED. Whether it was on a chastity pledge to get a free sandwich or in a conversation you just HAD. This links a lot with false memory OCD.

Another aspect is OCD makes us doubt we have OCD and tries to convince us we have any other diagnosis under the sun and we are obviously faking our OCD.

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Sexual Orientation OCD; It is as it is called. Sexual Orientation OCD is what happens when your brain goes ‘hold on what if you’re not this orientation what if you are THAT’. It doesn’t matter where on the LGBT umbrella you fall you will have OCD trying to convince you otherwise. From compulsive staring at members of the same/opposite gender to compulsively reassuring or checking with yourself to ensure that ‘ no no you are in fact THIS orientation.’ 

This can range in behavior from binge watching porn, staring compulsively to check that there is OR is NOT attraction,self checking past experiences and memories, analyzing your clothing and your lifestyle in painful and intricate methods.

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False Memory OCD; False memory OCD is basically your brain sitting you in a noir interrogation room, handcuffing you to a chair grilling you. It demands that you did *insert bad thing here*. This can range from anything from something Harm based to pretty much *anything* from other OCD subtypes. Which is quite delightful really.

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Sensorimotor OCD; Sensorimotor OCD is obsessive body responses. These can be ‘ I have to cough really hard and really feel it right in my chest and if I can’t get it right I have to cough until I do’. This can be counting your heartbeats. Trying to check yourself that you in fact have a heart and checking and reassuring that it is still beating. It can be hyper-awareness of swallowing or even swallowing repeatedly. It is anything with selective attention; ie its an automated process but your OCD is forcing you to be aware of it.

Your OCD makes you aware of the sensation of, say, breathing, and then it convinces you that if you stop paying attention to it you will stop breathing. So now you’re horribly aware and focused solely on breathing and breathing alone. It keeps me up most nights with the pounding anxiety fueled by the pressure of ‘if you stop focusing on breathing you will stop breathing completely’ or waiting to feel that last heartbeat in your chest. 

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Existential OCD; You ever feel existential ? Existential OCD is like having a very aggressive existential crisis that turns you into NEEDING answers IMMEDIATELY. This can look anything from hours panic scrolling the net to panic inducing anxiety because you don't know what happens after death. The thoughts are like foghorns on a misty sea.

This sounds basic and the only example i can give is as a teeny tiny 7 year old I had a panic attack in bed screaming that ‘ what if im a dinosaur and im asleep and i wake up and my whole family is GONE’.

To be fair I did like dinosaurs a lot.

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Harm OCD; This is pretty self explanatory but I will give more details. Harm OCD is OCD demanding that you will/could/can/may have/might harmed yourself/others/any living creature and that you alone are responsible. 

This means anything from getting anxious driving over crosswalks because ‘what if you dont see one and hit someone and its all your fault and you hit someone go back and make sure you havent hit anyone’ to ‘im holding a knife so im going to accidentally stab someone’ to ‘ i didnt see my cat this morning and now im at work and think she must be dead and i am responsible for her demise.’

 It can be as simple as ‘if i use a pencil i will stab myself in the eye’ or as complex as ‘ i may accidentally say a slur’/ ‘ i am going to say this horrible thing out loud if i cannot control myself.’ It can also be images of terror or racist/sexist/ableist jokes in your mind that repeat like a broken record.

(Please note from section 1 that this is extremely anxiety provoking and not something you would do. OCD preys on what we respect the most.)

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pOCD; Tumblr listen the fuck up because I am tired of seeing people get called shit on this website for having this mental illness. People who experience pOCD are not pedophiles, they do not get any pleasure or benefit. The thoughts and images are meant to induce harm to the person experiencing them. Children are normally the trigger for this and the resulting images can be very graphic. Again you aren’t attracted to children- thoughts of them getting harmed hurt you so your OCD makes you see them.

Know this so you can advocate for folks with pOCD in real life. Remember we are here. We are suffering and we are terrified of your children.

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Poisoning others/or in your food; Life isn’t medieval anymore but sometimes OCD demands we have a food taster or that we obsessively worry that we may kill someone with our cooking. Personally I struggle with colorblindness so I am constantly fretful over cooking any sort of meat so it’s difficult for me to cook it.

 However this also comes as; obsessive horrible thoughts of your cooking kill someone or that you have somehow/accidentally poisoned someone’s food (even if you haven’t touched it or been within a foot of it ) or that someone has poisoned YOUR food even if no one has touched it except you. You’re going to be picking apart your food or unable to eat out at all.

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Emotional Contamination: It’s similar to magical thinking and this terrifying prospect of mind readers. Emotional contamination can manifest as anything from intense worry over somehow gaining someone else’s negative personality traits.

 Or that somehow by interacting with any role of someone horrible will make YOU somehow also responsible for the horribleness.  There is usually a person or a type of person that is a trigger, but it can also be location based.

 This is one subtype where magical thinking and superstition are apparent.  

For instance; as a teen if a male was in my space or had physical contact;like shaking hands,giving a high five, being in my room etc. I would have to go around and physically touch all the objects that I perceive they may have also touched as a way to cancel out their presence. 

This includes wiping off myself to negate even the touch of family members. It really hurts peoples feelings, my father was especially hurt by this.

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Physical Contamination: This goes beyond physical dirt and grime. Most of us dont have spotless homes because if you’re having a fist fight with your brain everyday cleaning falls by the wayside just like it would for anyone else. Physical contamination holds 2 things: physical contamination obsessions AND compulsive cleaning behaviors/rituals. We believe that a small amount of a contaminate can cover large surfaces.

 Oh, and did I mention its not JUST dirt/germs/viruses. The list is expansive but heres a mixed bag of what they can be: sticky substances,dead animals,glitter (FUCKING GLITTER),negative words or language,colors, numbers, surfaces in general, food, people, and activities.  There is also a hyper responsibility to protect yourself and others from ‘contamination’.

Strangely there is a magical separation between the contaminated world and the ‘clean’ one. Spaces designated as clean would be a bedroom/bathroom/workspace where you are most active. That space is where the compulsions and intrusive thoughts occur. Its not I MUST CLEAN EVERYTHING ALL THE TIME. Otherwise I would be working cleaning houses because why the hell not amiright?

A real world example from a colleague would be a young man with physical contamination OCD is struck with such intrusive thoughts about cleaning that they refuse to allow anyone in their room or any animals in their home. But they are not able to even flush the toilet, take out the trash, wash dishes, or do garbage because of their intrusive thoughts.

The most famous would be compulsive hand washing but I feel it is important to also note OTHER aspects of physical contamination because everyone sees the hand scrubbing stereotype. 

Other compulsions include intricate rituals, not touching the floor (i played X-treme the floor is lava during college. I couldnt let my feet touch the floor because it was ‘dirty’),excessive showering (2-8+ hour showers guys, 8 hour showers. Thats what we’re talking about.)

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Relationship OCD: This comes as no surprise that yes you will have intrusive thoughts that you are somehow harming/ will harm/ may accidentally harm your significant other. Whether that be by physical or emotional means. It can look like ‘ I may have lied to her about how much I love her’, ‘ i may not actually love her and I may be leading her on’, and ‘ I must be corrupting her’. These can extend to certain physical activities with false memory OCD as a cherry on top. A great finishing garnish to leave you feeling absolutely dismayed and unable to trust your own perception.

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Scrupulosity: Religion! Whatever that may be! Its a thing with OCD.  With Scrupulosity obsessive thoughts run all over the board from; you committed a sin and forgot about it you monster to having to pray continuously/ a certain time/ until its right. What is right?Ask OCD that’s the only person who knows. 

We are fairly certain my grandfather had OCD because he went to church for every single Catholic Mass. Every single day. Every. Single. Day.  That’s not a healthy amount of attendance(I'm calling you out posthumously because I care Robert!). This can also look like: praying a certain amount of times. Praying until you do it ‘right’. Confessing every single potential sin. Cataloguing and dwelling over ‘sinful’ things. 

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Symmetry or Just Right OCD: Symmetry OCD is the runner up for ‘most likely recognized on tv shows’ award.

Symmetry OCD convinces you that if *insert thing here* isnt symmetrical or ‘just right’ (a magical position or number of objects that makes 0 logical sense) that something bad will happen.

This can range from the known; rearranging things. But it also looks like buying more objects until you reach the right amount and even throwing out objects if theres ‘too many’.

It can range from ‘the walls are percievably not straight so now i avoid that room at all costs otherwise i will be trapped traveling the edges of the wall with my eyes otherwise it will fall in and murder us ALL.’ to ‘ this historical bust is one inch off to the left and now all i see is visions of it breaking against the ground.’

So that is what I have time for. 9 pages on subtypes and basic information. If you find yourself wanting me information all of this is easily accessible online. So go, be free and dont ever compare people to Monk again. Write Batman and Scott Summers with OCD. Give us ACTUAL representation and not throw away joke lines. We are here. Our suffering isnt funny. We deserve representation too.

[llendrinall]

What if the golden trio + Draco magically get sucked into a universe where Riddle was killed before the potters were. And they grow up from babes to adulthood not remembering anything until they suddenly get their memories when each reach the age of 21 and ohh imagine how hard itd be on each's parents cuz they dont know whats wrong and all. Then bam Ron shows up engaged to a muggleborn he never spoke to in school and Harry and Draco are spotted on a date in a muggle zoo. The Malfoy's flip and so do the Potters.

It'd be a lovely story of healing, connecting and love and honesty I think they deserve it after the shit they went through.

The memories come to them in dreams. At first it’s just a strange, upsetting, dream that has a bit more consistency than dreams usually have and that lingers through the day while dreams fade away before you get out of bed. By the third night they have almost all the memories back, each dream slotting nicely with the previous one. Harry is understandably freaked out. He makes a quick trip to Godric’s Hollow to go hug his parents and then spends a lot of time looking at the one family photo they have in the living room, the one in which Harry and Dudley were seven. He stares at Petunia’s smile and wonders whatever happened to give him such horrible ideas about his aunt.

He and Ron are friends, living together as they went through the Auror training and now in their first year working as Aurors. Harry talks to Ron because he can’t shake that horrible feeling of dread; all the things he could lose or maybe all the things he has lost. That’s when they realize they have the same freaking memories, the same dreams, down to the nasty details like Ron leaving during the horcrux hunt or Harry being kind of a jerk about Ginny.

Ron, being Ron, is blessed with an eminently practical and down to earth sense of life. The dreams are strange and it would be very interesting to learn how come they got the same dream-memories, if something happened to their other selves and why are they suddenly remembering now. All those are very good and valid questions that someone should investigate. For now, Ron is going to find Hermione Granger and do whatever it takes to make her fall in love with him so he can marry her.

It turns out that Hermione has been getting the same dreams, the same memories, and when Harry and Ron – those two classmates she was friendly with but not super close to – come knocking on her door, she cries and she doesn’t know if it sadness for what they lost of joy to have them back. Ron once again shows his superior sense by grabbing her hand and saying that yes, this might be a super duper weird spell, and yes Hermione is right to suspect it and want to know why and where it came from, and yes, there may be some dark forces playing around; but none of that changes the fact that he loves her and even if the memories proved to be fake he will still love her because she has the courage and smarts to suspect the meaning of these memories and basically what Ron is trying to say is that he loves all iterations of Hermione. Sorry, but she is stuck with him.

They get married that same day, with Harry acting as a witness. Then they go tell their respective families. The Grangers take it surprisingly well and don’t even threaten Ron with dismemberment if he ever hurts Hermione. Instead, they ask him to do right by her. Ron, who might be going a bit mad, makes a vow of devotion and loyalty with his actual knee on the floor and the Grangers love it. They named their only daughter Hermione, of course they love it when an actual chivalric hero comes into their living room.

The Weasleys are a different thing. They know enough about magic to be suspicious of the sudden memories. Mrs Weasleys gives Hermione the stink eye because, to be honest, this sounds a lot like a love-potion. It’s only because Harry is there with the same memories and no wish to marry Hermione that Mrs Weasley doesn’t call the Wizarding Patrol immediately. Also, the twins and Ginny dislike Hermione. The twins slightly less so because they only had to suffer her as Prefect for a year, but for Ginny it was three long years of Hermione barring her from hexing and/or beating people. It was very frustrating and she blames Hermione for every pimple she got during that time. If Ginny had been allowed to hex Parkinson or Malfoy of freaking Finch-Fletchley every time they were their annoying selves, Ginny would have been much calmer and mellower and her skin would have reflected it.

So the Weasleys are not happy but there isn’t much they can do about it other than keep a close look on Hermione and wait for Ron to see reason.

It is a very busy weekend to say the least. On Monday Harry has vertigo because the week seems awfully empty (disarming a blood hex and capturing its creator, ppft, what is that for someone who remembers fighting Voldemort?). Harry would rather have his hours full so he won’t be overwhelmed by his thoughts. There is so much death in the memories! His parents, Sirius, Remus, Peter, even Regulus who is profoundly weird and very snobbish but James insists on inviting him to events and he keeps coming despite how uncomfortable he looks. They are all dead in Harry’s memories.

There is also Malfoy, who is even more of a jerk in the memories and who grew up to become an actual Death Eater like his father, someone who almost killed Dumbledore and who, when the time came, saved Harry’s life with a lie.

On Thursday the Auror office receives a call of dark activity in Minaford Park, which is where Draco Malfoy is living these days. Harry takes the assignment and makes quick work of the boggart and the ghoul that somehow were trapped under the stairs and were screaming at each other. As excuses go, it’s not too bad. Harry is certain that Draco could have done it himself, but it is messy enough that it seems believable that he would prefer someone else to fix it for him.

Draco offers Harry tea, which he accepts. There is a very odd tension in the air. Draco is down to his shirt sleeves and has shadows under his eyes and when he looks at Harry… It can’t be said that he looks at him funny. Draco was his usual snobbish self while he watched Harry getting rid of the creatures. But there is something in his eyes when Harry takes a seat and accepts the tea cup. Something almost like sorrow.

No, not sorrow.

Compassion.

“Look, Potter”, Draco says. “I am too old to start having prophetic dreams, but this affects you directly. You figure out if someone is playing with a timer-turner or what, here it goes.” And he tells Harry everything.

As one could expect, Minaford Park has a very beautiful garden. Draco and Harry spend hours after lunch walking through it. Ah, yes, Harry stayed for lunch. Draco insisted. He still had things to tell Harry and he was growing hungry.

They meet again on Saturday, ostensibly so Harry can tell Draco what he and Hermione had learned. Ron says he doesn’t give a damn where the memories came from. He only cares what he can do with them and so far he seems to be doing pretty well, having married Hermione and encouraged Bill to ask Fleur Delacour out. Hermione and Harry are a bit more worried, but Harry will admit the research effort goes 30-70% in Hermione’s favour.

Talking with Draco is good. He seems to share the same dread as Harry. Draco confesses that he is not happy with his conduct, or rather the conduct of the Draco that could be. He talks a lot about the fear and nausea at having the Dark Lord in his house, the smell of despair that took over the manor, the mad glint in his aunt Bellatrix’s eyes. Since Draco talks about his aunt, about seeing her mad and cruel and talking proudly about torturing the Longbottoms, Harry feels that he can talk about his own aunt Petunia and Draco will understand. Lily and Petunia don’t have the closest relationship, but to think that she could treat Harry like that…

The Sunday visit to the zoo isn’t a date. As soon as Hermione learns that Draco also has the memories she assigns work pairs and tasks. She sends Harry and Draco to check the reptiles in case they see something like Nagini in there. Both of them have the most memories of her. They should be able to recognize the snake.

Nagini is there and she is surprisingly cognizant for a snake which makes them suspect that she might be a horcrux. The discovery leaves them cold, a new kind of vertigo opening before them. They didn’t live through it, they are only memories, but the exhaustion of the war feels real and they don’t want to go through anything similar again.

Draco asks to go see the penguins and it might seem silly and contradictory, but watching them helps a lot to keep the chill from Nagini away. Neither can tell who initiated, but while in there they begin to hold hands. They go to see the butterflies next, which are in the next pavilion, and suddenly everything in the world looks much better. They don’t kiss when they part, but the way they look at each other is worth at least three kisses.

On Monday Harry receives a short message from Remus that simply says he has sequestered the Prophet’s copy but he doesn’t know how long he can keep Harry’s parents from seeing the news. Harry takes the morning off work and goes to Godric’s Hollow immediately so they can learn about Draco from him rather than the salacious gossip column.

James simply says, “MALFOY? You… MALFOY!?”.

He seems upset. Then he freezes and for the next ten minutes James says nothing. He doesn’t move. He is just there, in the kitchen, one hand in the air and the other holding a cup of tea that is growing cold.

“Harry, dear, I want you to come to dinner today.” Lily says. She has a worried frown but is otherwise unperturbed. “And tell us everything about those memories. Even the bad bits. This is important. It can be dangerous.”

“Yes! Dinner!” James screams, suddenly unfreezing. “Bring him to dinner. Tonight.”

“What?”

“No, you are right. It might be too formal, too soon. Quidditch, then. Does he like Quidditch? He must. I remember you complaining about him while you were in school.”

“He… likes Quidditch, yes.” Harry says hesitantly because even now he is not sure if his dad is talking about Draco.

“Perfect. We shall go see a Quidditch match, the three of us.”

“James.” Lily warns.

“Does anybody in this house know when the next Quidditch match is?” James cries over his wife’s warning that he is doing it again, just like with Sirius.

“Saturday.” Remus says.

“That’s too late! When is Sirius back?”

“Wednesday.” Answers Remus and despite his transformation exhaustion he nimbly steps away from Lily’s strike with the newspaper. Usually Remus would spend his transformation at home, but since Sirius had to go on a trip he came to James and Lily’s so he would have company, which led to the fortunate circumstance of being able to take the newspaper and delay the news.  

“Honestly, Remus.” Chides Lily.

“I’m not encouraging him! You can’t call answering his questions encouragement!”

“It is decided, then.” James announces from the chair. He has climbed a chair and is speaking from atop. “Friday, you bring young Malfoy home. We will play Quidditch and some board games and have dinner in the yard. Sirius shall bring Regulus so Malfoy is not the only Slytherin.”

“James, listen to me…” Lily tries with little faith that James would listen to anyone.

That same morning, at eleven, Lucius Malfoy receives a howler from James Potter composed of thirty-two seconds of mad laughter, which means that James must had listened to Lily at some point or most likely that she was able to take his wand.

It couldn’t be said that James Potter was happy to hear that his beloved son was dating a snobbish Slytherin prick, no, but as soon as he realized that Lucius Malfoy would be equally unenthused about it, it had awaken James’s unhinged tendency towards confrontation with the established power and forced adoption of families’ black sheep. He had done it to Sirius, he had done it to Remus, he had done it to Peter (even if it failed catastrophically) and he was doing it to Regulus now. He had even befriended Severus Snape. Oh! Snape! He should invite Snape too. That way they could make teams of four.  He would come if Lily asked him to.

And afterwards they explore those memories, and Lily looks worried and so does Snape. Regulus goes very quiet for a while but then he gives his opinion of what has happened and it’s the most words anyone has heard him speak but the multiverse theory makes a lot of sense.  

The Weasleys warm up to Hermione eventually. They can’t tell why, exactly, other that Ron is beaming these days. Also, every time she comes to the Burrow she brings a gift to Arthur. It is a very obvious ploy to make them like her but it works because she sees the gift through and answers all of Arthur’s questions no matter how long it takes. The twins took notes when she gave her physics lecture. It was most informative. They created two prank artefacts out of it.

They find the few horcruxes Voldemort managed to make. Peter, who had a falling out with the Potters years ago, resurfaces and tries to steal a horcrux and bring back the Dark Lord out of spite. According to Regulus some people are dedicated to bring their own destruction and you can’t do anything about it.  Barty Crouch Jr. also tries to bring Voldemort back, but by then Lucius Malfoy has been adopted by James even though he is a powerful adult man with his own family. It makes no sense. If anything, Lucius should be the one informally adopting people and grooming them under his wing to be his devoted friends and allies. But Lucius had become James’, just like Severus warned him it would happen, so he puts a stop to that Barty Crouch nonsense pretty quickly and to any other former Death Eaters with ideas. Lucius might not like the Potters but he likes the idea of Voldemort taking over his house even less, and whatever else his happening, it makes Draco happy, so.

What little of Voldemort remained alive, it is now dead.

The four of them, they have the shadows and regrets of two lives, the fear and pain of two wars, but the happiness afterwards… Oh, it is worth it, it is very, very worth it. It is the happiness of two lives, tenfold.  

[obsidiancreates]

Unwelcome Homecoming

(So this fic is an AU of my Vampire AU. Double AU, heh. One thing to clarify: In the main Vampire AU, Celine never cheated and she and Actor actually had a great relationship and loved each other very much. Also yes, The Manor is still a demon and manipulates people’s thoughts.)

(Also I have another version of this with an entirely different ending so let me know if you’re interested in that. I’ll post it regardless, probably, but if you do want it I can add you to a taglist.)

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Celine groans, crumpling up the paper and tossing it aside.

They’d already tried that. And it hadn’t worked.

None of it ever works!

They’re no closer to finding a cure than when she’d started this quest, and it’s been... five years now? Close to it, anyway.

... Five years.

No contact with her husband... her brother... not even William...

She buries her head in her arms.

Five years.

She’s five years older.

Her husband is the same as when she left, assuming he hasn’t been found out and killed by now.

William, who knows where he is. How he is.

Damien...

...

At least Damien is safe, right?

He always took her warnings seriously. No matter how vague. No matter how seemingly absurd.

And he has The DA. So he’s not lonely, at least.

... Maybe William went back to visit Mark.

... Doubtful. But it’s a nice thought to entertain. Then neither of them have to be alone through this.

She lifts her head back up.

Gotta get back to work.

She’s not getting any younger, and they aren’t getting any older.

She pulls out another old book, and cracks it open.

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Celine jolts awake as the phone rings.

Shit. She fell asleep in her office again.

She peeks out of the door.

The rest of the group is gone for the night. She hopes they remembered their holy water before leaving.

She rubs her eyes, and picks up the phone.

“Hello, who is this?”

“Celine?”

She blinks, fully waking up thanks to that one word.

“Damien?”

“Oh thank god, it is you,” he says on the other end of the line, sounding like he’s about to sob in relief.

“Damien, how did you-”

“I need your help.”

“With what?”

“... I-I disregarded the warning.”

Her blood goes cold.

“What?”

“I know I shouldn’t have. But I-I did, and-”

He takes a deep breath on the other end of the line.

“Can we meet? Please?”

“Of course,” she says. “Of course we can.”

“The old cabin?”

... That’s a long, long journey away.

“How patient are you?” Celine asks.

Damien laughs a little. “It hasn’t been that long since we’ve talked, has it?”

Celine smiles a little. “Alright, I’ll be there as soon as possible. I’ll send you a letter when I get into town.”

“Okay.”

“... Are you okay?”

“... Not really.”

“... See you soon, Dames.”

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Celine stands on the porch of her old family cabin.

She takes a deep breath, and knocks.

Damien opens the door.

He looks normal.

Other than the fact that it’s below freezing outside, the windows are open, there’s no fire going in the fireplace, and he doesn’t even have a suit jacket on.

Just a dress shirt.

The twins look at each other for a moment.

Celine wants to go in for a hug, but...

Damien steps out of the way so she walk in. He closes the door behind her.

“You could’ve at least closed the windows,” Celine says, keeping her coat on.

“Hmm? Oh, right, right.”

Damien shuts them, and grabs a box of matches.

“Sorry. Forgot.”

... That doesn’t bode well.

He gets the fire going, and they move to sit on the couch.

Celine keeps her distance, just in case.

The silver necklace around her throat bring her a feeling of safety, and she hates it.

Hates that she needs this precaution with her brother.

Damien has his hands clasped in his lap.

Neither of them know how to start.

“... How long has it been?” Celine asks softly once the silence becomes unbearable.

“... Three or four years.”

Celine’s heart shatters.

“And you only just called?”

Damien doesn’t know how to answer.

“... Okay, okay. You were probably scared, right? So... it was Mark, then?”

“He didn’t mean to,” Damien says. “I don’t think, anyway. I just... I hadn’t heard from him in a year, and I got worried. I should have just listened to you, but...”

“It’s okay,” Celine says. “I should have told you the truth.”

More silence.

“He didn’t mean to.”

Damien’s voice breaks as he says it.

“He-he was sorry, afterwards. Offered to let me stay with him, so my house staff wouldn’t be in danger.”

Celine reaches over and takes on of his hands in her, holding it tightly.

His skin is ice-cold.

He uses his free hand to wipe his eyes. “I said okay.”

“... You’ve been staying with him for four years?”

“Give or take,” Damien says with a sniff. “He’s been trying to make up for it. Helping me with everything.”

Celine wipes her own eyes, as well.

“... I’m sorry,” Damien says, voice small. “God, if I had listened, things wouldn’t be like this right now.”

“It’s okay. It’s not your fault.”

He laughs bitterly. “Sure.” He sniffs again. “... Where are you, anyways? Where have you been?”

“Looking for a cure.”

He looks up at her. “Really?”

She nods. “I have. There’s a whole group of us looking for it.”

“... Are you close?”

“... Not yet. But we’re determined.”

“... How far?”

“Far.”

“... Can you come home?”

Celine shakes her head. “There’s not enough vampires here to conduct our research and testing. I’m sorry.”

“... It’s alright. I understand. Your family misses you, that’s all.”

“You could with when I go back,” she suggests gently.

Damien thinks about it, and then shakes his head. 

“I doubt we can travel well.”

Celine nods.

“I can try visiting,” she says. “Here, in the cabin.”

Damien is quiet. “Not the same as having you back.”

“I know. But it’s something, right?”

He hesitates, and then nods.

He tears up again. “We miss you so much,” he sobs.

Celine risks it. It’s Damien.

She pulls him into a hug. Lets him cry on her for a minute.

“I’m sorry,” he cries.

“It’s okay. Neither of your asked for this.”

He’s being careful, she notices, not to hug too tightly.

He could easily snap her spine now, if he applies just a bit too much pressure.

It’s still a little tight, but he always hugs tight when he’s upset.

“I’m sorry,” he says again.

“You don’t have to be. I promise.”

He moves his face, leaving a patch of cold tears on her coat.

“We just miss you,” he says. “And we want you back at home with us.”

Her blood runs cold.

“Damien? You’re hurting me a little.”

He doesn’t loosen his grip.

“Dames, please.”

“It’s not that bad, after a while,” he says.

She tries to push him away.

“The manor is nice. And as long as we’re inside, we don’t crave blood. Once you let it in, anyway. It can’t help if you don’t let it in.”

“Damien, let go of me.”

“It’s for the best, I promise.”

Her head is pulled to the side.

“Damien, snap out of it!”

She tries to reach for the holy water in her pocket, but her arms are pressed to her sides.

There’s the slight smell of smoke, burning flesh, and Damien hisses in pain. 

The silver necklace comes unclasped, and falls off.

“Mark was hoping you’d come home on your own,” Damien says. “I told him it wouldn’t happen. You always assume you know best, I said. You usually do, he replied. But usually doesn’t mean always.”

“Damien, think about what you’re doing.”

“... I’m sorry.”

He bites down, and Celine screams.

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She blinks her eyes open.

There’s a gasp, and then Mark is leaning over her. He’s smiling, fangs out, his glowing red eyes watering.

“Hello, my love,” he says softly.

“Welcome home.”

[obiyuki-beebs]

CH 116 thoughts / discussion

mkah spoiler / discussion and no cut.

I’m going back to thinking about the 115 post (reblogged directly below this one or in the obiyuki content page on my blog) I did and how that bottle is just like the one Touka Bergatt told his brothers “wont work on him”. So now we know that this bottle of perfume (and is perfume, not poison as I had previously thought) that is basically hypnotic pheromone juice. Touka apparently cannot be influenced by it. Was that what was used to lure in and kill Touka’s father? I think so.

Remember in the early days (ch. 28) when Mitsuhide smelled that smashed potion and went nuts over Zen for a chapter? 

While it may not be the same potion, it does have similar hypnotic properties. This potion is described by Garack as being associated to what we are thinking of at the time, or more particularly, producing a strong reaction to a deeply held loyalty (a type of love). Mitsuhide is worried about Zen, who he already has a strong relationship with. This potion seems to have enhanced feelings that were already there.

That was the same instance that was used as the final test for Shirayuki’s court herbalist apprenticeship, which she passed. I think that counts as a strong memory that may influence this arc as well if she and Ryuu recall the test in their brainstorming and investigation.

We did not get a name for the plant, and it is simply referred to as the blue flower drug. While I’m not supposing Sorata was planting an easter egg so early, I do think she may be using a similar premise of hypnotic (at the very least).

Back to 116....

You can see in this depiction of Yozumi that his eyes are blank. We get confirmation that he was hypnotized, but I think we should remember this look for future encounters as it provides insight to the effect the perfume has. 

After she hits him to get him away, he looks shaken. Shirayuki sees how strongly his emotion is affected by this. Yozumi is tearing up with obvious pain in his eyes. What happened to his lover? He asks repeatedly for Shirayuki to leave, facing away from her, clearly fighting the hypnotic temptation. Look at his face in the next image. Why is he so distraught? What about his lover and the perfume are so upsetting? This might also provide some insight on why he’s so protective of the perfume bottle. Is it all he has left of his lover? Did she die? Missing? Was he betrayed?

“I took it with me in secret.” 

Did he steal the perfume from her?

Yozumi -- who will not name his lover but we can almost definitely infer is Mm. Liera or in some way connected to her -- reacts to some of the perfume that Shirayuki placed on her collar. This means that the perfume is not the same as the potion described in ch 28, so is it the same plant in a different formulation? Or is it a different plant that also has hypnotic effects?

(as a side note, I wonder how effective washing out the perfume is? Washing off of your skin, sure, fool proof that eventually the substance will be gone. But with fabric? It might be much more difficult to clean. Maybe Shirayuki is using the pepper Ryuu gave her to wash her collar? If there is somehow leftover potion on her clothes, will some unsuspecting gentleman get a whiff of trace potion and be swayed to make a move? I would like to see shirayuki in proximity to obi for this hypothetical... this whole paragraph seems silly now that I’m editing but I’m leaving it). 

“When I was beside him, he seemed like he was in pain.”

Emotional pain? Physical pain?

Yozumi seems to have been ‘addicted’ to his lover by means of this perfume, and describes withdrawal symptoms when he was separated from her for more than a few days. 

Withdrawal -- physical withdrawal -- is serious and a sign that the body has become accustomed to a stimulus, that being in contact with the stimulus is the bodies new normal. 

However..... I’m not sure how closely we are supposed to compare that to withdrawal in the real world. I (used to) work in healthcare and still think like a nurse... I can’t help but apply that line of thought when Shirayuki is also a health care professional. Court Herbalist seems to cover sides of modern nursing and modern pharmacy. I think it’s more likely that the perfume is a vehicle for manipulation -- a lure for an assassin to exploit -- rather than so severely addictive that it incapacitates someone. 

That being said, Yozumi is still addicted to the smell of the perfume. Addiction psyche will often have you rationalize and seek out the source of your addiction, even if you know it’s the wrong thing to do. Will he try to seek his lover out? Is she alive? Is she a villain!? All I’m sure of is that she is associated with the Bergatt scheme (re same bottle, etc), and is part of the untrustworthy faction in the North that will try to reclaim Wilant and its territories. 

Can Yozumi be trusted out and about? Lol no. Probably not. Who does he kinda look like? Obi bb..... Spy time? Will the knights ball be a masquerade?! WILL OBI AND SHIRAYUKI GO TOGETHER WEARING MASKS?! ahem I hope so. With close proximity dance & perfume. I hope we get some Obi x Shirayuki confronting the tension between them. Maybe the perfume / knights ball will be the catalyst? 

Then. Yozumi is contacted by someone he has never met and invited to meet, and this woman has the same scent. This woman is connected to the original lover, and whoever supplies the ‘perfume.’ Probably the Bergatts and their loyalists. This encounter with the perfume alerted Yozumi that he should be suspicious of the lover and the scent, which catches us up to the present and why he has come to see court herbalists. 

So this perfume ... basically makes people horny .....there’s going to be a ton of temptation shit going on and I am so here for it. 

this post is already so long ...... my arthritis is so bad rn but I’m so pumped about the chapter I’m popping 800 mg ibuprofen and trucking on thank you so much for reading up to this point

So ... the identity of the lover. We know she is high born, and is the daughter of a Viscount. We can assume she’s from the North. There seems to be a network of women working with and / under Mm. Liera to tempt and manipulate chosen parties (Yozumi, Touka’s Father, etc). 

Shirayuki and Ryuu plan to send their observations to the pharmacists of Lyrias, with “people they can trust.” Eisetsu became a little more suspicious to me in this chapter. His reaction to people we can trust was odd when you reflect on it, especially after he OBVIOUSLY LIES ABOUT KNOWING MM LIERA at the end of the chapter. Obi can tell that Eisetsu is hiding something. 

Bullet points from here on out because handswristselbowsandshoulders are literally on fire haha arthritis !!!!!

Other thoughts:

I wonder what Mitsuhide and Kiki were talking about on their walk in the woods? How curious. Maybe they are discussing the state of the North and theorizing similar to how we are? IS THIS META SORATA (p not)

I love the interaction between Ryuu and Shirayuki when she has finished washing off the perfume and she thanks Ryuu for coming with her and Obi ... happy family ... peers who trust ... coworker you can rely on .. ♡(｡- ω -)

lol Eisetsu “vetoed” but I mean he seemed to get a clue after Yozumi mentioned her being from a Viscount family. 

Another suspicious Eisetsu moment ... Does he know who Yozumi Iriz is? Apparently so. 

I might be totally off base in suspecting Eisetsu. Maybe he’s one of the good guys. It’s too early to just explicitly trust, especially in a part of the country that is known to be hostile to ProWistalFamily. I am pretty back and forth about if I trust him, though. I want to. I think he’s funny and that he seems genuinely good. But idk. My hackles are raised.

It brought me SUCH JOY that Obi came back after the rains, with the flowers blooming.  (((o(*°▽°*)o)))

Wasn’t that little agreement clap between Shirayuki and Eisetsu much like the high five that Obi and Shirayuki do? Maybe Yuki did that to put herself at ease, almost like she too is trying to trust Eisetsu. 

d r a m a ? ? ! !

People are covering for Mm. Liera and her crew. They are associated and probably working closely with the Bergatt loyalists. What will be next?

We will hear more about the upcoming Knight’s Ball

More research conducted on effect of perfume and its properties

Will it be related to the blue plant from ch 28?

Will a spy be sent to Lyrias to intercept research on the perfume? This is more of my Hackles Incorporated TM business mentioned before re Eisetsu and if he can be trusted. 

BACK TO WAITING!

<3 beebs <3

[angst-art-writing]

Locks and Keys, Promises to Keep

TW: Reference to abuse and torture. Creepy whumper.

It was silent, other than calm breathing. Artemis lied on her back on the floor, letting the coolness of it ice the bruises and aches she felt. She stared up at the ceiling. Even if it was silent in that room, she could still hear the buzzing of her own thoughts in her head, echoing louder and louder the more she tried to silence them, to think of something else. She didn't even notice Santiago coming in before he called her name.

"Art?"

Her head turned towards him, and she pushed herself up into a sitting position. "Hey," she mumbled. He smiled and shut the door quietly, heading over and plopping down right next to her. Santi was the only Reaper who was close to her age, and wasn't a total dick. She'd known him for a while now, he was one of the only...friends she had. They were close, but distant. Siblings.

"Well you look just lovely, huh? I think the white brings out your eyebags. And your hair- What's going on with that?" He teased, nudging her gently with his elbow.

"Oh, shut up." She rolled her eyes at him, and he smiled wider. She came with an insult of her own. "I know you aren't talking shit when your teeth are as crooked as my sexuality."

"I love our chats." It was quiet for a second before Santi spoke again. "I heard what happened. With the Neoma girl."

"Hm? Oh...Yeah. Her." It was hard to get her out of her head. She was mumbled in with all the other thoughts, one of the only not-as-shitty ones.

"Why didn't you just tell them?" He looked over, with a raised brow.

She shrugged, mainly because she still didn't really have an answer. Or, none that she could say to him. She didn't want to endanger him with her own thoughts of defiance. Countless times she'd dream of running away with him, making their own life, but it was unrealistic. It was stupid. Home was here, and it would always be home. Santi had seemed to accept that, and part of her was jealous of that fact.

"I knew you were stubborn but not like that." When she didn't answer again, oddly (as she was usually up to talk), he kept talking and asked, "What do you think? About living here now?"

"I absolutely hate it. Even home with dad was better than this." She frowned and leaned back some, tilting her head back against the wall. "At least then I could take walks on my own, you know? Instead I'm stuck here. All the time."

Santiago gently reached for her hand. He didn't try and hug her, which was appreciated. Hugs just felt like traps now, even if she couldn't help but lean into them, fear always wrapped around her as arms did. A warm embrace only for cool fingers to dig into old wounds, hug you so you can't get away. Hugs didn't feel safe, but she longed for them, from the right people. People she could trust. She took his hand and sighed before she continued, "I mean, I guess the only good part is I don't have to worry about groceries anymore, right?" She tried to joke, and smiled softly. But he didn't really know what that meant.

Santi shrugged a little.

She would often sell herself and let people do whatever they wanted, and people would give money to her. She knew how to steal, of course. But if she was caught once it would mean very bad things. It was easier to trade. Still, not having to do that anymore wasn't good. Vincent let people do whatever they wanted anyways- But Santi didn't need to know that. He didn't know most things, and Artemis didn't want to tell him. He wasn't the right person to talk to, and besides, he had his own worries.

"I'm sorry," he said after a second. "Is your dad staying here too?"

"I don't know. Maybe.."

"Maybe Vincent will let you stay at my place with me?"

"That's nice, Santi, but it would never fly." He squeezed her hand tighter, and she went on. "I have a tournament today."

"Groups?"

"I hope not. I'm exhausted."

Santiago had never seen her fight before, and she was thankful for that. He knew how much she hated those things, and Artemis would hate for him to see her as entertainment. It was one of their promises.

She could remember it clearly. They were sitting under Vincent's desk, hiding. He was hiding from his boss, Spencer- of the Workers Unit. They developed weapons and suits for the Reapers, using information from the other Unit, the Researchers. Researchers conducted experiments on Mythics, the like.

They had sat under that desk, across from each-other. One of the first promises. It was forbidden for Santiago to see her fight. After they had made that promise, they had been dragged off, away from eachother.

Before that one, however, there was the very first promise. That they would stay together, no matter what. It was so easy to say that, to lock fingers together and promise on it. She looked towards him, and she saw him on that day. He was so small, his eyes bright. Even now his eyes were still bright. She wondered if she looked the same from then too.

He turned and looked over, and Artemis was whipped out of the memories. It was one she cherished. He sighed and smiled a little. "I kinda wish I was like you. People seem to like you here, y'know."

"What?" She turned to look at him, startled.

"Y'know, they're always training with you, they want to push you. You get all kinds of attention. They like you."

They like to use me. But she just shrugged and looked away, before he spoke again. He looked unbothered, but he kept talking.

"They enjoy you." Exactly. She hated that. "You fight good, they want to make you better.. You get attention from the boss himself, they give you weapons. They love you, Art. Just.. sometimes you don't listen. I kinda wish I got that attention."

She said nothing and just looked down. He was right. It was true. She did get a lot of attention.. Maybe they were just trying to make her better, in some way.. She didn't have time to dwell too much on it before he said something.

"Here- I have some oranges I stole from the kitchen." He fished into the pocket of his pants and took a few out, passing them to her. She took one and let go of his hand to start peeling it.

"Thank you.. Hopefully these ones aren't moldy." He sighed heavily.

"I only did that once. When are you going to let it go? You already got back at me, you threw up all over me, remember?"

"That was just karma." She smiled at him slightly. It felt weird to smile, it felt like someone was just pulling the corners of her mouth up to force her to do so.

Santi nudged her again, leaning against her and smiling. He pushed his head against the side of her face, making her lean to the right slightly. She turned and flicked his forehead, sniggering.

The two just sat with each-other, and Artemis allowed him to braid her hair. As he did so he told her about what he was working on. Santiago was part of the Workers, and he told her about the new suits they were working on, and how soon the Researchers might be able to extract powers from the Mythics. He sounded excited- Artemis tried to share it but...

"Santiago!" A voice called distantly from outside.

"Ah, shit. Thats me-"

"No, really?" Artemis glanced back at him and he stood, letting go of her hair. "Go on, you'll get both our asses kicked if you're caught. Mostly mine, since you're the good one."

"Thats not true. They like you better." He raised an eyebrow, and then stood. He didn't know all they did to her. And what he did know, it was excused. It was her fault, a punishment for her actions. Truly, it was.

Artemis scoffed and pushed at his leg slightly. "Go, then. I'll see you later, mkay?"

He moved forward and grinned at her, pausing to flick her in the head. "Adios." He waved and then slipped out the door, and Artemis was left alone again. She slumped back against the wall, gingerly touching the braid he had made. She waited, this time dreading when the door would open again.

---

It had been a few days, and Artemis stood in the bathroom, preparing for another assignment. Vincent had explained to her what to do, and her main focus was to kill Paige. It was a fancy event, more or less a trap. The Researchers would be talking to some important scientists, so that way they could occupy their lab, at a fancy dinner one of them was hosting. They had invited Vincent, as well as the co-bosses, Esteban and Spencer. They could take one plus person each, and sadly, Artemis was that person for Vincent.

When she had asked how they were going to get Paige there, he had simply said he would leak information that Artemis would be there. She didn't know how, but she was in no place to argue. Just get the job done.

She stood in front of the mirror, her hands fumbling with the tie. Since there weren't many girls involved with the reapers, they mainly just had men's clothes. She stared at her reflection for a moment and just felt disappointed. She had a bruise developing on her jaw, and her eyes were sunken in and drooped. She looked exhausted, hurt. Weak. She wanted to kill the person in front of her, wanted to bash her head into the mirror.

Artemis glanced down and tied the tie, throwing on the coat a second later. She let her hair spill down over her shoulders. It was almost to her waist by now. Paige's hair was longer. For a moment she was no longer in that bathroom, but up on the rooftop with that girl. Her hand went up to her neck as she remembered the cool blade pressing against her throat. She could see Paige, panting with bright eyes, her shadowy hair moving in flow with the wind, wings curling.

With a soft sigh she picked up her dagger and slipped it inside her coat and the image was gone again, a barrier blocking it away inside her mind. Still, she tried to shake away the girls' eyes. Her eyes held honesty deep inside their blue.

She opened the door and Vincent was there. He turned and looked her up and down. "You look nice," he said politely. Artemis mumbled a pathetic thank you, before Vincent placed his hands on her shoulders and turned back. "Your hair is very long..It's very pretty," he said with a smile, combing his hands through her hair. She was tense, waiting for him to pull her hair and wanting nothing more than to slap his hands off of her. Of course, she just stood still and just stood there tensely, unmoving.

"I like it," he mumbled. He continued to smooth down stray hairs on her head, fixing the imperfections. She wanted nothing more than to chop it all off, then and there. She hated the touch but he was also making her hair oily. He took a white ribbon from his pocket, tying it in her hair.

She glanced into the mirror again, just for a moment. The dagger felt heavy, pressing against her body. Her hands burned, burned with the blood she was about to spill.

Who was that? Was that really her, staring back at her?

She didn't know.

Vincent smiled at her reflection, patting the side of her face. "There, see? Perfect."

[self-proclaimed-chaotic-good]

Consequences of Curiosity | HAPtives and Reader (Oneshot)

Prompt: Fantasy

Fandom: The OA

Words: 2076

A/N: It’s been a while since I wrote for The OA and I’m missing that show so much right now. Some Elias Rahim x Reader around the end.

-

You had your theories of what happens after death, but most of them were seen as fantasies or a part of cultural beliefs. Working under Dr. Percy, you realized you were not the only one that wanted to conduct research on such a subject. Yet, you hadn’t realized what lengths he was willing to go to get answers.

He was paying you a generous amount, enough to keep you afloat and support your parents. He knew that. Which was why he threatened to take that money away and make sure that you’re blacklisted from every medical institution he knew if you said a word about the experiments he was conducting. You would have nothing. You would have to start from scratch or find another way to get by.

“It’s our experiment,” he would always emphasize.

You never agreed to any of this. You wanted to only look for those who had near death experiences and interview them, maybe even monitor them to see if there were any side effects. Kidnapping them and subjecting them to a rinse and repeat experiment of drugging them, killing them, monitoring their brain, before putting them back in their glass prison and waiting for them to wake up again, wasn’t what you had planned at all.

Seeing those five people trapped in a giant fish tank with only a thin mattress, pellet food, and a small stream that ran through all five cells for their water and even their bathroom. It was inhumane, and you couldn’t understand why Hap, as he insisted on being called, didn’t see it.

Hap had gone out to meet someone, leaving you alone with his captives. In all honesty with as, essentially, an accomplice, they were your captives as well. With him gone, you made sandwiches for them, similar to the one that Prairie had made for the others. No mayonnaise for Scott, you remembered.

You checked the time, making sure that he won’t be back any time soon, before switching the cameras to the looped feed you recorded when he wasn’t looking. Once you were sure that it was working, you climbed down the spiral stairs. The captives instantly cut off their conversation, turning to the stairs to see you with a plate. Prairie stood up and walked up to the glass wall, blue eyes watching your every move. You were amazed that she had gotten her sight back after her escape attempt, but it was also unnerving to feel her watching you. Like she could see all the things you’ve done, the good and bad.

“I’ve got some actual food,” you announced, dropping off a sandwich for each person. “You don’t have to eat it, but Hap’s not here and I doubt a sandwich would make a difference.”

They all stared at the sandwich skeptically before looking back at you. Only Prairie knelt down to pick up the sandwich, taking a bite out of it without a second thought.

“This is really good,” Prairie said, “Thank you.”

You gave her a small smile. “You’re welcome.”

You saw Homer frown, stooping down for his sandwich and biting into it as well. Rachel, then Renata followed, slowly relaxing when they realized how harmless it was. Scott ignored the sandwich, leaning against the glass wall to glare at you.

“How long are you gonna play good doc, bad doc, huh, Hap? Sending your assistant in to be nice before you kill us again?” Scott yelled at the camera.

“The cameras aren’t recording right now,” you told him, “We have a limited time until Hap gets back, but I want to help you guys.”

“And why the hell do you want to do that?”

“Because I never wanted any of this!” you said, waving at their glass prison, “He’s got something over me and I’m working to get that back and take him down. I’m close, but he keeps things under lock and key. I’m asking you to trust me on this, okay?”

Prairie placed a hand against the glass. “What do we have to do?”

“Really? You can’t trust them!” Scott shouted at her.

She shook her head. “I can feel it. There’s a reason why out of all people, they had ended up working with someone like Hap.”

“I know that there’s something that you’ve seen when you NDE’ed and Hap can see you do those movements. I’ve been making recordings to play on loop to prevent him from seeing too much, but I can only keep it up for so long. I can’t guarantee anything, but I’m going to gather all the data he’d collected, make some travel arrangements, and the next time he’s gone, we’ll have a small time frame to leave this place, turn in evidence against him, and we’ll be as far away as possible.”

Homer nodded. “It’s all we’ve got so far. What do you think, OA?”

Prairie, or the OA, frowned. “We need to try.”

Your plan would work, in theory, but Hap had been growing paranoid as time went on, omitting some details in the data he found. He believed that he and the others weren’t captor and captives, but research partners. His obsession with OA also grew, making you worried for her.

Everything had been turned upside down the day the sheriff came by to check on the cabin. Although, you didn’t get all the notes and data he made, you made due and hoped that whatever you memorized and wrote down, along with footage from some of the experiments and the cameras monitoring their glass prison, would be enough. So, you called the police and tipped them to check up on the cabin.

When the sheriff showed up, Hap gave you a look that you couldn’t quite decipher. He turned on rock music to drown out the yelling as he went to speak with the sheriff. You watched as they walked to the side of the cabin and partially out of view. You rushed over to the computer, making sure to bring up the feed of the basement, the sight of your newly made acquaintances made your heart hurt as they screamed and banged on the glass.

You forced yourself to walk away from the screen, jogging downstairs to make it look like you were busy. You nodded over at OA before turning to the rest of the notes that Hap had kept around the basement. If everything goes to plan, the sheriff will see the feed and Hap would finally be dealt with.

Just as you collected all the notes and tucked them into a briefcase, Hap came down the stairs. His eyes were cold as he looked at you before flickering over to his captives.

“Bring out Prairie and Homer,” he said, walking back up.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered as you opened their cells.

You reached out and gave OA a gentle squeeze on her arm. She sucked in a breath, not being used to skin contact. You snatched your hand away, apologizing again.

Everything that happened after that was like a strange dream. OA and Homer were to heal the sheriff’s wife so the sheriff could make a special arrangement with Hap that would allow him to continue his work. You stood by, Hap making sure you remained in his sights while he and the sheriff waited for OA and Homer to do the movements.

The lights flickered and like the time you had witnessed Scott being brought back to life, you watched as the woman was getting her energy back and began to move again. The sheriff gasped in disbelief, rushing over to the room to see her. Hap stood up, gripping hard on your arm as he dragged you with him, a gun held in his other hand.

He made you watch as he separated Homer and OA once again before they could even touch each other for the first time, then he shot the sheriff and his wife. Your heart fell when you realized that all your planning was for nothing, and now there were two people dead and two people heartbroken. Homer was thrown back in the glass prison while you scrambled to think of an escape plan with OA. Running in an area that you were unfamiliar with won’t do much, as he could catch up with you like he did with OA the last time. Then again, she was blind that time.

When Hap came back upstairs, you tried to jump him with a frying pan. He dodged out of the way, yanking the pan from you. He twirled it in his hand, before turning to you and swung at your head. All you could hear was OA’s screaming as you fell to the floor. Her screams became faint as he dragged her to the car. His footsteps came back a while later and he lifted you up and shoved you in the car with her.

OA’s soothing hands cradled your head on her lap as she cried, the car jerking around as Hap drove off. You wanted to wake up and assure her that you were fine, that you can still make an escape with her, but you couldn’t. You felt yourself slipping away. You failed.

-

“And that was the last thing you remembered?” Elias, the FBI trauma counselor asked.

You nodded slowly, wrapping your arms around your knees as you sat on the grass of a park a couple of blocks from the FBI building. Elias sat next to you, casually leaning back against a tree.

You had woken up in a hospital after having some kind of vision where OA was floating in the air, a bright light surrounding her, before falling quickly. Apparently, you still had the flashdrive of some of the footage you stole from Hap’s computer and the police had found it. You were promised to not be charged as a willing accomplice if you told them everything, but just as you were, they didn’t believe you. They had you talking to a trauma counselor, hoping that it could help clear your mind.

Elias Rahim was not what you expected from a trauma counselor that worked for the FBI. He was casual and he genuinely wanted to help you, listening closely to what you have to say without any bias. He helped you make sense of what happened and had not invalidated what you claimed to have experienced. It was easier to talk about it after each session. It took months for you to open up, but it was happening.

“Why were you curious about life after death?” he asked.

“Well… I guess because I’ve had a lot of relatives pass away and my parents… well, they’re not getting any younger. It’s like believing in heaven or the Land of the Dead. Knowing what’s beyond all of… this,” you waved your hands to your surroundings, “It’s comforting, I guess.”

Elias nodded. “I get it. Death is something we don’t have a say in, but the idea that life still continues in some other form is reassuring, right?”

You picked out a piece of grass and rolled it up with your fingers. “I… I had another dream,” you muttered.

Elias leaned in. “A dream?”

You nodded. “It was… it’s strange,” you said, laughing at it.

“Well, I want to know now.”

“You… you were on a stage, in front of hundreds of people,” you said, “You were rapping and people were shouting your lyrics back at you. It’s ridiculous, right?”

The corner of his lips turned up. “Could be because of that embarrassing story I told you about how I snuck into an Eminem concert,” he said.

You looked over at him, and he was giving you that strange look again. Like there was something that he wanted to tell me but couldn’t. He looked away, lifting up his sleeve to check the time.

“It’s time to head back now. See again at the same time next week?”

You nodded, dusting yourself off. The two of you walked back to the building where a family friend was waiting to pick you up.

“I’ll see you later, then,” you said to Elias.

He nodded, waving as you climbed into the car and drove off. He sighed. You were so close. He could tell that your other self wants you to remember, but your mind isn’t allowing it to take over. It can’t be rushed either. He would just have to wait, like he’s always done.

[banjodanger]

X-Men Origins: Wolverine(2009)

I’ve got a lot to talk about, so I’m going to jump right in with a very unpopular opinion. This may SHOCK and OFFEND certain readers, but I’m not one to shy away from speaking my mind. More sensitive readers should beware, however, because I’m not going to shy away from rattling cages and saying what NEEDS to be said!

So, ready yourselves, because...

Origins is not the worst X-Men movie.

There. I said it. PBBBBBBTTTT!

I’m not arguing that this was a good movie, hell, there’s a good argument that this isn’t even a competently made movie. But this movie is also responsible for some of the absolute best movies to come from Fox’s X-Men. First Class and Days of Future Past are two of the absolute best movies of this series, and it’s doubtful the other two Wolverine solo movies would have aimed as high as they did if this movie hadn’t been so widely mocked. If you go back to watch this movie, try to keep in mind eight years later this series would get nominated for a screenwriting Oscar. Whatever your opinion of awards, that’s a hell of a turnaround, considering the story this movie tells is like three separate stories stapled together. Finally, however much this movie misunderstands Deadpool, it was right on in casting Ryan Reynolds and eventually gave us better Deadpool movies than we could have hoped for. It shouldn’t go unnoticed that both of those movies use Origins as a solid foundation for jokes. I’m not going to talk too much about Deadpool in this movie, because I plan to cover it in more detail when I get to the first movie.

But I’m not discussing those movies, I’m discussing Origins, and Origins is not very good. The CGI looks cheap and outdated, not just by the standards of the time it was released but by the standards of five years previous. And the movie makes said terrible CGI hard to ignore because, to quote the philosopher Michelle Branch, it is EVERYWHERE. Most people are quick to bring up Wolverine’s claws effects, and they should because they somehow look worse than any of the three previous movies and it’s the most easily noticeable. I’m not expecting them to have Hugh Jackman actually fighting and jumping around on top of a nuclear vent but it looks like they’re doing it in front of computer wallpaper. That hill outside the Hudson’s farmhouse literally looks like the default Windows XP desktop. I’m surprised Agent Zero isn’t hiding behind the recycle bin. This isn’t to say I don’t expect lots of CGI in my comic book movies,but I expect better when someone is dropping over one hundred million for a guy with metal claws to fight a mute with impossibly long sword fists.

I could ignore all the bargain basement effects if there was a good story, but there isn’t one. There’s about two or three stories and they’re all bad. Gavin Hood wanted to make a throwback sevnties-style revenge movie, completely self-contained and R-rated(Hey, does that sound familiar?), but the producers wanted extra characters they could spin off into their own films. And as much as I want to excoriate them for that, I can only get but so mad. This was a big franchise that was approaching ten years since its first film. They were looking towards the future and that’s what their job was. The problem is that failure to find a common ground comes through on the screen. Some of the strongest scenes are between Logan and Victor, to the detriment that most of the other characters who come off as unnecessary cameos. That boxing scene between Logan and Fred Dukes could be a thirty second phone call without really losing anything.

It’s disappointing, too, because a lot of the performances in this movie aren’t bad. Believe me, I wanted to hate Will.I.Am. I was going to drag him and talk about all the terrible music he made but...he’s not bad in this movie. I’m not going to say he missed his calling by not becoming an actor full-time, but I enjoyed his performance and wish the movie had used him a little bit more.

My humps is still one of the worst goddamned songs ever.

Gambit was great in this movie too. Taylor Kitsch had this bizarre run of putting in good performances in hated movies. After this, he did John Carter then the second season of True Detective. That’s a shocking run of bad luck, and too bad to, because he’s good in all three. We missed out not getting at least one more movie with his take on Gambit, because he gets maybe fifteen minutes of screentime but he manages to be memorable, charismatic and charming.

Helicoptering with a bo staff still isn’t part of his goddamn power set though.

And I’m not going to forget Liev Schrieber, who makes an absolutely compelling villain. The only problem with his character at all is that he puts such a great performance that it stretches belief to imagine this is the guy that becomes a silent henchman in the first movie. There’s simply nothing in his performance to suggest they’re the same person. It would be like if the twist of Phantom Menace was that Darth Vader was originally Jar Jar Binks, or if they hired Nora Ephron to write a Hellraiser prequel. 

Even the Scott Summers we get in this movie is pretty good despite looking like a guy that steals copper wiring out of abandoned gas stations. Although I really question why Gambit watches them run off and I guess just assumes they’re being abducted by a good guy.

That leads me into the whole problem with prequels. Things happen in this movie and characters seem to live simply because earlier movies dictate that we have to see them again. It simply does not make sense for Kayla to leave Stryker alive. She has every reason to kill him, but she doesn’t, because he needs to be the villain in X2. Gambit doesn’t chase after the kids because they didn’t want to have him interact with Professor X. Sabretooth survives because he has to fight Wolverine on top of the Staute of Liberty while making no reference to their apparent relationship as siblings, or any words of any kind. This movie is awkwardly shoehorning itself into the lore established by the previous movies and it results in characters saying and doing things that go against what this movie seems to lead up to. The ending of most of those seventies revenge flicks was a bloody murder. Here, Stryker hurts his feet a little. It’s just not the same thing.

Ok, are you ready for the problematic parts?

Let’s start with Native American representation, because it ends up being a pretty big part of this movie. Lynn Collins’ Wikipedia says she claims Cherokee ancestry, so I’ll give the movie credit on that, but as near as I’ve been able to suss out, the myth she tells does not exist outside of this movie. First off, Wolverines do not howl. At all. They’re not wolves, they’re related to weasels. They’re small, vicious bastards. That information was readily available in 2009, by the way. Furthermore, the information I can find says that the moon in Native American mythology is predominantly gendered as male. Now, that’s not a blanket statement. This was the research I was able to conduct, and mythology, as with a lot of oral traditions, are a pretty mutable thing. Given that I was unable to find any mention of this myth that didn’t quote it from the movie, I feel pretty comfortable calling this myth nonsense.

Hey, what’s your tolerance for fatphobia? Because that’s going to impact how you feel about Blob’s character. Look, from his very first appearance he’s been a fat joke. That’s it. He’s a rude fat guy whose mutant power is being fat, hell, part of his power set is described as a “personal gravity field.” So while I can’t blame the movie entirely for this character being problematic, you’ve got to ask why they chose this character as the one that had to stay true to the comic book. He was in poor taste when he was created, when this movie was made, and now. And I absolutely can blame the movie for making him a fat joke.

At least they didn’t go the Ultimate comics route and straight up show him eating another character. Small blessings.

On a more final note, there’s that very strange character choice in the beginning credits. I know that they want to illustrate early that Wolverine doesn’t view violence the same way Sabretooth does, but why would they choose nazis as the villain in that moment? Even if they weren’t the most enjoyably killable villains in history, the last three movies have made the atrocities of the Holocaust a huge emotional linchpin of a major character. So it comes off as a genuine shock that this movie would use, in its introduction, a moment of sympathy for these very same villains. So you needed to show Wolverine with sympathy? Have a bar fight in France after liberating the country. Have them fight in the Korean war. Maybe Wolverine mourns a kid shot on the front lines. There’s a hundred choices that don’t involve Wolverine getting sad over a bunch of nazis.

So, why don’t I think this is the worst X-Men movie? I’m clearly not calling it a forgotten classic, and I’m not recommending you watch it unless you’re a weird completionist blogging about your arrested development on Tumblr. Sure, there’s some forgotten performances in here that deserve some consideration, but the movie is mostly a mess, a result of too many cooks with diverging visions. There’s a good revenge flick here, but it gets buried and muddled by a desire and knowledge that this movie has to simultaneously explain the past that led to the first movie and set up future installments. It tries to do too much and ends up not doing much of anything. I followed up on some of the people involved in this movie. Obviously Ryan Reynolds had the last laugh, but it still took seven years and a leaked teaser. Hugh Jackman learned from the mistakes in this movie and the rest of the Wolverine movies are pretty great. Gavin Hood, who got this job after being nominated for a foreign language Oscar, directed another big-budget flop with Ender’s Game. However, earlier in 2020 he apparently bought a four million dollar house so I don’t feel bad for him. Also, the flop of Ender’s Game could possibly involve Orson Scott Card being a vocal and unapologetic homophobe. Seriously, what is it with beloved fantasy authors and hate towards LGBT groups? You can conceive of wild, uncharted space and magical realms but the idea that two guys love each other is too far out?

Next in the series, from failure comes success, as we meet Xavier and Erik as frenemies and launch a million slash fictions.