#like i want to draw but its always the same 3/4 or side profile

[forecast0ctopus]

Any advice on drawing McCoy? I’m not used to drawing ancient wrinkley bastards (affectionate) and it’s surprisingly tough v-v

FOR SURE lmao i made. a diagram. just a warning that i am going to be irritating and long winded because u just hit a topic i really like sorry lmao

so first off i did some traces just to show whats there vs redraws to show my interpretation

ive said this on other asks but again jsyk, tracing isnt bad!! its a tool. theres some stuff with intellectual property and whatnot but using tracing to study shapes and forms is a really valuable practice.

also just taking some time to learn facial structures and anatomy is super useful, reading what bones and muscles are where and how they interact with one another. taking this info and staring in the mirror and moving your face around and thinking about it. just really furthers understanding of how the face works. trying to sound normal about this but i love anatomy and motion and physics and whatever

anyways im going to go through all the numbered points so there's no confusion. 1. forehead lines - self explanatory. more prominent when brows are raised 2. crows feet - at the outer corners of the eyes, more prominent when smiling or squinting 3. nasolabial folds - the folds that go from the corners of the nose to the corners of the mouth. more prominent when the mouth is wide, like smiling 4. brow furrow - self explanatory, most prominent when brows are furrowed. mccoy tends to have two right next to his eyebrows, kirk has one in the middle. everyones face works different lmao 5. chin crease - caused by how the chin and lower lip interact. 6. nasojugal groove - start from the inner corners of the eye and can extent over the cheeks. everyone has these and idk why people dont like them i think theyre really cool!!!! but Society. i guess. :/ 7. eye bags - caused by the skin sagging beneath the eyes. mccoy isnt even that old in tos i think hes meant to be mid 40s by the end of the 5 year mission, hes just got really prominent eye bags lmao 8. idk what the name is for these, but when the mouth is wide and pushes the skin to the sides, these folds sometimes form outside of the nasolabial folds 9. philtrum - the groove above the upper lip. i dont usually draw this but mccoy's struck me as prominent enough that i usually draw it on him 10. masseter - the muscle that moves the jaw up and down. its a pretty rugged muscle and while i wouldnt say mccoy's is especially prominent, it kind of extends that nasojugal groove from certain angles/positions 11. orbicularis oris - mouth muscle, usually easier to see when lips are pursed or frowns are pulled. mccoy's is pretty prominent from 3/4ths or side, his mouth tends to protrude in profile 12. this isnt a muscle but more of a line defining the planes of the face, but since i drew it i felt i should explain lmao

a few points:

im an animator i tend to exaggerate and emphasize certain things so i usually make him more square.

i like to combine eyebags and crows feet for brevity/flow, same with nasojugal grooves, eyebags, and masseter lines. my approach is always subject to change based on pose, expression, reference image, etc.

i take out details that i deem redundant or cluttering and keep what details i need to make things feel Right

all this info is applicable to any character of any age, its just in how you apply it and facial proportions that willl change how old a character is perceived to be

there's a lot more with drawing a Character rather than an Actor, just because the features are there doesnt necessarily mean things will feel correct? its very much in the mannerisms and poses and expressions

i only went over my approach to his likeness but not really body type or posing or anything idk if u want that i could always try to answer that later haha

_______________

anyways all that info kind of exists nebulously in my brain while i draw its not like im sitting there thinking Must Draw. Nasolabial Fold...... i jsut do what feels right with the visual info i have. also i love specificity in faces.... i dont like to be a hater but when every character is drawn the same it pisses me off a little lmao. so

also dont take my word as The Only Way to do anything i just draw how i like to draw and no one should feel like these are things that Must be done to be a good artist or anything do whatever the hell u wanna do

[mimzaucracks]

First post on sideblog, let’s goooo!

Image ID 1.0: The uppermost image is an image dump of rendered sketches of a ROTTMNT: The Movie AU version of Renet. She’s a young black girl, about the same age as April in the film, and she shares a striking resemblance to her, short for Renet’s hair being bleached blond. The drawings included in pictures described later, and in the bottom left corner is a photograph of the pencil sketches from a notebook. The text in the image reads:

Renet (ROTTMNT MOVIE AU)

- F!April’s daughter

- Master Michela[n]gelo’s protégé

- Got sent back before Casey but got stuck in limbo; emerged after events of the movie.

- Possibly a clone of April

(End ID)

I was rather disappointed we got another Casey as the MC in the movie instead of her, so it got me wondering if she could fill the same role as him. In my opinion she can, and that birthed this AU idea. Her being Future April’s daughter and Mikey’s protégé fit too perfectly, so I would actually have her be Jr.’s old childhood friend who was missing for many years (in limbo), so both of them are happy to see each other again in the present new timeline.

Regarding the “possible clone” comment: Many headcanon Casey Sr. either finding Jr. in a dumpster somewhere and adopting him, or that she asked Draxum to clone her. I’ve never really subscribed to either, since he does look very similar to her (which makes me think they are biologically related), but his temperament is basically the complete opposite of hers (which refutes the clone theory in my head). I always just assumed Cassandra had a boyfriend too irrelevant to mention in the show, even long before the movie released. I figure he’s her biological son, but he inherited his father’s temperament (and his mother’s looks). That being said, I’m willing to apply the cloning idea to Renet. I cannot picture April with a man, ever, so I can see her demanding Draxum clone her to give her a daughter. Maybe the kinder side of April’s personality is stronger in Renet since she grew up in an environment where kindness and hope are the only things keeping a community together and its members sane. Maybe she even adopted some of her other mom’s (Sunita’s) traits, who knows?

Image ID 2.1: A 3/4 view of Renet’s head, drawn in a style very close to the show’s/movie’s. She’s looking forward, away from the viewer, smiling slightly with a little of her teeth showing. She wears her blond hair in a ponytail like April did in the show’s finale arc, and she has a blue headband and a decorative silver tiara resembling a clock (10, 11, 12, 1 and 2), which bears a slight resemblance to the Statue of Liberty’s crown. Her cape is the same shade of indigo as her headband, and the cloak’s collar is majorly oversized, revealing her neck. She has an earring in the shape of an hourglass. (End ID)

Image ID 2.2: A fully rendered illustration (not in the style of the show/movie) of Renet and a teenage April from the end of the movie in front of a sunset. They are standing in profile towards each other, with Renet on the right, holding April’s hand in her left and her time sceptre in her right. April’s expression is slightly confused whereas Renet’s is tender and happy. A small speech bubble reads “Hi mom.” Renet’s chest plate/plastron is brown/dark orange to mirror Casey Jr.’s teal, showing her connection to Michelangelo, much like Casey’s shows his connection to Leonardo. (End ID)

I’m not entirely sure on her cloak’s exact design yet. If you look closely at the pencil sketch of her body, you can slightly see Donnie’s Genius-Built Apparel ‘D’ logo on her sleeves. I left it out of the illustration with April by accident, but I’m not sure whether I necessarily want his logo in those spots on her cloak. Maybe it’s at the bottom of the tail? I’m also not sure whether I want it to have those glitter-esque particle effects from the bust drawing; it’s not really a design element in-canon. Although, I do find it very pretty.

[starlit-dreaming]

[20] in the back of my mind

Fandom: WMMAP Rating: G Ship: Eventual Lucathy, Felily, Calena, and more Note: the Twin Sibling AU that i tried so hard not to write, but i DID, so naturally i have to call myself out for writing it. will be cross-posted on ao3 and wattpad under the same title

A/N: I made a mistake in earlier chapters regarding the ages. To fix this, I'm making the clarification that Ferdinand is 8 y/o while Charlotte's 9-10 y/o. I'll make the proper edits when I'm able to.

This chapter's a bonus of being almost 4k words as opposed to my usual 3k. I highly recommend reading this fic on ao3 instead of on Tumblr (under the same title and username) because the formatting's always a pain to deal with and doesn't accurately reflect how I want the story to be read.

Also, I'm thinking of making character profiles for everyone. I'll be posting them on my Tumblr, and there will be a spoiler and spoiler-free version of the profiles (information including sexuality, names of love interests, backstory on their history in "Toska", and whether or not they will end up in a romantic relationship with Athanase at one point (as in, actually having a courtship, but no mentions of being his endgame))

The spoiler-free version will simply say if the character has appeared yet, which chapter they show up in or will be expected to appear in (which isn’t very accurate as it varies on how the story progresses during the writing process), and basic information like their full name and age.

Granted, this will take a long time for me to even get started on, even if I don’t draw the characters (I’m thinking of maybe commissioning someone if I get too lazy to draw).

——————————

Arc 1: Beginning of the End 0 | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

Arc 2: Of Princes and Villainesses 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | [20] | 21 | 22

Side Story: maybe, i’m afraid (verena/athanasios) 1 | 2

Summary:

He was pretty sure he transmigrated into a fanfic of [The Lovely Princess] — after all, he would’ve remembered if Princess Athanasia had a younger twin who died.

// A retelling of WMMAP with a vital difference — Athanasia has a younger twin brother.

——————————

20. no one believes in me except for you

——————————

Of all the people that had to be standing in on a personal conversation between Athan and Ver—Autumn, it just had to be Felix. If it was anyone else, Athan was confident that they'd be able to sell it as an inside joke with Autumn that helps him calm down from his overactive imagination, that it was just childish nonsense.

But Felix took part in being his caretaker for the past two years, and for him to be reliant on Autumn would be pretty suspicious. Autumn only entered his life a few months ago, and that wouldn't have been enough time for her to know how to help him in such a panicked state.

Granted, they could explain that it was a side effect from her saving him, but that sounds like a bad case of dependence.

If Athan didn't do anything, Felix might even suspect Autumn of manipulating him.

After all, it was suspicious that a little girl was capable of saving him from suffering the same way as his sister despite the fact that he was far away from the castle with his whereabouts unknown for hours. Even if Lucas was the one who did it, Autumn was considered his saviour.

He glances over to Autumn, who remains seated in a chair at his bedside. She was adamant in keeping her gaze down, and he knew better than anyone that her mind was racing with possible ideas.

A quick glance around the room was more than enough to know that it was only the three of them in the room and no one else. This place was vaguely familiar, and yet he knows that he's never seen this room before—

Wait, this room...

.

(It was very... bright, he thought with an inward grimace, gaze drawn to the windows that stretched from the ceiling to the floor, with its pink curtains drawn back with careless regard. Everything was very colourful, when he glances out the window and catches sight of the swaying field of flowers and the fluttering grass.)

.

He remembered parts of his dream with startling clarity, recalling the figure of a young maiden hidden by the white gauze curtains with blurred determination. The windows reached from nearly the top to bottom like his dream, but the curtains were a pale orange like the colour of a zinnia flower — a delicate flow and a gentle sight. It wasn't pink like his dream, and he didn't see any gaudy and overbearing sight of flowers...

.

("Truly, your [brother] indeed cares about your wellbeing, but there is a limit to his naïvety and wilful ignorance," he dryly comments, taking slow strides over to the armchair at the girl's bedside.

It was cold, as if no one had dared to sit and keep the bedridden lady company.)

.

And yet he was absolutely certain that this was the same room. A gaudy armchair was in the room, at the bedside and currently used by Autumn.

This was a room that was meant to be long forgotten.

...but for whom?

.

("For the day I [part] from this world, you will never truly forget me — you cannot, nor will I ever let you—")

.

"Where are we?"

The question brings a strange sort of dawning realization that he can't quite place, as if it were a word on the tip of his tongue. It was an inkling of who the maiden was — a young noble he must've met at the garden party his father hosted.

A lot of ladies approached his older sister while the opposite was true for himself, but only a small handful of girls had spoken to him directly from what he could remember. He couldn't think of anyone else.

They were also the only notable girls that the Original Athanasios interacted with.

Autumn, Charlotte "Lottie" Milford, and Irene "Iris" Nightingale.

So that was the question, really.

Between the three, who was the girl in his most recent memory?

Maybe it was because he noticed his impatience, Felix had answered promptly, "We arrived at Marquess Milford's Estate."

Really? It couldn't be that easy, could it? Charlotte was the girl he promised his love to? Well, it didn't seem too farfetched, did it? With Verena and Charlotte being against one another, it must've been an easy decision to be made once the Original Verena started showing her true colours. Charlotte had been the only girl who was willing to outright oppose her. Maybe the OG prince fell in love with Lottie's fierce personality?

It was very... strange how the memory of someone he once knew affected him like this.

.

(But then... what about Ijekiel?)

.

Felix was frowning, with his eyes slightly narrowed at Autumn just in a mere glance as he calmly and respectfully spoke to Athanase. "It was the closest place for Your Highness to rest after collapsing."

Ah, right...

It'd be nice if Felix would just accept that Autumn wasn't up to anything suspicious, but that would probably be a bit much, wouldn't it?

With how he kept shifting hesitant yet wary glances at Autumn, he definitely wasn't going to drop it...

And to make it worse, Athan collapsed.

. . .

Why the fuck did he even collapse in the first place?

"It's a relief that Your Highness, the Crown Prince, has woken up," Autumn stated in a gentle tone of voice, closing her eyes as she tilted her head low in a small bow as a sign of respect. 'You probably remembered something, but I really didn't think that this whole temporary amnesia trope would be this dramatic,' if she was frustrated by the inconvenience, she didn't let it show as she remained still with closed eyes. 'If anyone was supposed to get smacked dab with a temp amnesia trope, it would've been Ferdie for the divergence of surviving the Hunting Comp...'

'Well damn, thanks for the easy explanation, author,' he blinked, jewelled blue eyes staring at Felix. 'Autumn?'

'Yeah?'

'How much trust would you place in Felix?'

'Unless I became a supporter of former Emperor Anastasius, I trust him with my life. A full twelve on a scale of ten on being both trustworthy and hot. Trust-hottie, if you will. Duke Robain is a DILF, so naturally his son is also S-rank. I haven't worked out my tier lists for S, double S, and triple S-rank, but I'd say the Duke's a triple while His Majesty is a solo 'cause child neglect ain't sexy, and Sir Felix being a double S because he stepped up to the plate of being a caretaker when he didn't have to.'

And it was then that Athan deeply regretted his decision in asking Autumn for her opinion. It didn't matter that her confirming Felix's trustworthiness — among other things — was the solution to solving a landslide of their problems.

Like, really. How difficult is it for Autumn to stop bringing up DILFs when he never even asked about it to begin with?

'Why do you ask?' Autumn finally looked at him, a frown on her lips as she stared at him.

What aren't you telling me? That was the question written on Autumn's face as sharp blue eyes looked at him.

His hands trembled, clutching the bedsheets. He thought of the young maiden — er, well, Charlotte, he supposes — and how she sat still as though she were a corpse. It didn't help that her hands were cold, and she had pale skin, but he couldn't shake that image away from his mind. The feeling of her knuckles, her fingers, and the warmth she sapped from him still remained.

That was real, he knows this without a shred of doubt. While he knows nothing of what happened to lead up to that interaction, nor does he know the aftermath, but it was very clear what had happened.

She was dying from an incurable illness, and he could only sit by her side, keeping her company until the day she died.

He wasn't sure how he was going to save Charlotte.

'I'm gonna tell him.'

Autumn never mentioned anything about Charlotte dying, either. Maybe he was wrong about the maiden being Charlotte? What if the dying maiden was an adopted daughter — maybe even an illegitimate daughter? Wait, that was crazy talk. Was he actually accusing Marquess Milford of infidelity when he loathed his birth father for the same reason?

Still, even though he was pretty damn confident that it might've been Charlotte at this point, there just wasn't any guarantee.

So... maybe Felix would be able to help give him a little more room to work with.

'Hold the fuck up — you're gonna tell him that I think he's a trust-hottie?!'

Athan ignored his friend's moment ruining panicked thoughts and looked at Felix dead in the eyes:

"This isn't my first life."

Silence immediately followed after the statement was made. His heart pounds, his stomach churns — he feels... he feels nauseous, to say the least.

Everything felt... unpleasant.

.

("Well, maybe he should've kept his mouth shut," she grumbles.

He laughs, "You think so, too?"

. . .

He gets the impression that she smiles at him, and his cheeks burn and his heart flutters.

'Oh,' he thinks. 'Oh.')

.

Autumn was — well, she wasn't angry or horrified, but he heard absolutely nothing from her. She was frozen in place, dark pale — purple? No, it was definitely blue — eyes staring at him in stunned silence. Her lips paled, an indication that she was biting her bottom lip as her eyes anxiously flicker to Felix.

He could feel that the reveal to Felix had left her unsettled and upset.

.

(Or maybe it was him projecting onto her.)

.

Honestly, he understood her view of confiding in somebody else. There wasn't any reason for her to think that Felix would trust them. Hilise Inoaden from The Solitary Lady was a prime example of being considered a lunatic when she confided in her family regarding her time loops, and frankly that wasn't what he wanted as an end result. Unlike Hilise, Felix genuinely cared about him. On top of that, even though Athanase didn't necessarily want to die, but rather, he wanted to live comfortably and content.

In order for Felix to believe his words, he needed undeniable proof to show that he wasn't crazy.

And that proof was the existence of Jennette de Alger Obelia.

He opens his mouth, intent on saying her name, only to lose his voice as the image of the original Athanasia flashes through his mind, face red with tears staining a wretched face. It was an unsettling image, an older version of when Athy had cried when she woke up for a few minutes during her brush against death a few weeks back.

.

("I'm your daughter too, father.")

.

No, he couldn't. If he introduced Jennette, then wouldn't everything worsen? After all, that would only mean that he and his sister would be more likely to die early. Maybe Countess Rosalia would even try to frame him or his sister for poisoning Jennette before they're fifteen...

Everything was already changing, but Athan wasn't ready for that sort of problem in particular. Jennette entering their lives early would only alter the chain of events.

That would ruin everything and he knows it.

"I don't actually want to be at the Arlantan Hunting Competition. Frankly, it sounds like more trouble than it's worth to even go, even if I think learning how to wield a sword is pretty cool. You can dismiss it as a child's overactive imagination, or just me overthinking things, but I want to prevent a war between Arlanta and Obelia."

Felix stared at him with wide eyes. He was dumbfounded and speechless, which wasn't very surprising. How does anyone react when a little kid tells them that a war was going to happen?

'What are you doing?' He wasn't sure how, but Autumn managed to maintain a blank facial expression. 'He's never going to believe that.'

"Marquess Milford's true history, from living as a commoner to the actual reasons for the deaths of his sisters," he states. Felix jolts upon hearing that, his eyes snapping back to Athan. "The Countess Nightingale and the purpose of her family and the role they play for the imperial family despite providing nothing more than ambiance music. I even know the truth of why His Majesty's engagement to Lady Penelope Judith, the younger sister of Countess Rosalia Judith, was broken off."

Athan could tell that just from three sentences, Felix was unsettled by the fact that he knew more information about the things that no longer mattered to noble society or was the best kept secret within the imperial court. There was no way for Athan to know, and under normal circumstances, he wouldn't have known.

But, Athan had reread those 12 chapters Autumn had written for Toska countless times. Over and over again, to the point that he memorized the sequence of events and even remembered the names of side characters — including the ones mentioned only one time and the chapters they were brought up in.

He read the character sheets, the additional background, the side stories that had no direct involvement with the canon characters.

So Athan knew more than enough to convince him.

"Let's speak of Marquess Milford, as his story is less personal to the two of us. He grew up as a commoner until the deaths of his parents, in which his birth father had decided to lie and cover up the truth of his parentage in order to officially give him the Milford Family Name. He was never meant to inherit the noble title, as he had an older sister who was executed for angering the former tyrannical Emperor. It was an informal setting, given that he had killed her during a ball in the hallways. She had worn a dress and was unarmed, but if she fought back in any way, she would've been given a charge for treason and therefore get everyone in her family executed."

Nobody was supposed to know how the eldest of the Milfords had actually died. It was covered up as an assassination attempt against the former Emperor, and the former Milford Heiress had gotten caught in the crossfire...

Except, the youngest Milford had been a witness to the murder of her sister. She saw her sister die and was left traumatized.

.

(Like Ferdie, the youngest Milford, witnessing the death of Autumn's parents.

And just like his aunt, he lived to tell of it...

Not for long, of course.)

.

"So, the former Heiress was murdered, and the younger sister saw enough to be traumatized in the end, but she told her family before she died. It's the only reason why you and father trust Marquess Milford more than Countess Nightingale. You both ensured his loyalty by getting rid of the former Emperor."

Felix's mouth remained shut, his eyes trained on Athan with a sense of seriousness that he's never seen before in either lifetimes, and that included all the posts tagged with "Lovely Princess Felix" — not a single piece of fanart of a handsome and serious man.

Nevertheless, it was clear that Felix didn't know what to say, or perhaps he didn't know where to start.

Should he have started from the beginning? Or perhaps he should've given Felix some time to digest the information...

But if he didn't do things like this, then Felix would've dismissed it as a child repeating the things that he's heard before. After all, Marquess Milford's history could easily be found out by asking the right questions to the right people.

Would Countess Nightingale's history be enough to prove his words?

"How did Marquess Milford's younger sister die?"

That was the only thing Felix had asked for.

If he answered this wrong, Felix might assume that someone with a grudge against the Marquess had spilled all of this information.

But fortunately for him, he knew the answer.

"People say she killed herself," he tells him without missing a beat. "In actuality, she screamed the supposed "accusations" at one of the nobles' meetings, barging in there in place of her brother who had to leave for the Arlantan Hunting Competition as his family regularly attended as one of Obelia's Diplomats. She was thrown into a jail cell until the Marquess returned and was deemed to be mad from the grief of her sister's death. The family was pardoned, and she was found dead by hanging, but the Marquess believed that it was the former Emperor's scheme of painting his sister as crazy."

If anything, Felix didn't seem to be reassured by his answer.

"I believe you, Your Highness."

"You do?" Autumn blurts out, gasping out a squeak as she covers her mouth with her hand as if she had yet to say anything. "I beg your pardon, Sir Felix, but is it true?"

Felix nodded, frowning. "Everyone in noble society now thinks that Lady Lizbeth killed herself due to grief of Lady Ariella's death and was unable to bear with the knowledge that nobody believed her. While he isn't happy, Marquess Milford is happy that his younger sister is no longer considered a shame to the family name and that she's no longer seen as a madwoman. Seeing how close His Highness, Prince Athanasios, is with Marquess Milford, I'd imagine that it's possible they would have an honest conversation about such a thing years from now, given that it's still a sensitive topic for him."

Huh. That really was convenient. Well, it is a story that came to life, so it was only natural for the world to fill in the gaps.

Still, Felix believed that pretty easily...

Not that he's complaining.

"Father doesn't know, of course," he shifts, awkwardly adding to the conversation. "Autumn remembers too, and she would know more than me because she lived longer than me."

'Don't throw me under the bus!' she screeched in his mind. "You give me too much credit, Your Highness. I didn't live for nearly as long as you believe," Autumn shook her head, giving him a pointed stare. The switch between her mind and actuality were as jarring as ever. 'Verena died in the same year as Athanasios. Usually execution, other times suicide.'

"...Autumn?" Felix looked at Autumn curiously.

"Shit," he thought. 'Was that supposed to be a secret?'

"Well shit," Autumn sighed. 'I wanted to keep that a secret.'

Out of everything he's heard tonight, hearing two "children" swear had startled Felix the most.

——————————

Since he successfully convinced Felix, they were free to speak more openly around him. Of course, they had to wait until they returned to the castle since they would be staying at the estate for a few days until he regained his strength — Athan also didn't want a repeat of someone overhearing a conversation between him and Autumn, especially when he wasn't in his right mind...

Even though it would be better to share the information with Autumn, his dream was very personal.

.

("If this love is a curse, then I would gladly be scorned and burned in hell.")

.

Recalling his own words, he knew he had lived that very moment. He had felt anguish for his dying lover that it had brought him to physical tears when he awoke. He felt warmth in his heart, a fluttering warmth when she smiled just for him and him alone.

Athan knew a love between friends, a love so strong that they were family. He knew of a toxic love between two romantic partners — he's seen and read of it, he's lived through it even if he remembers nothing.

But he's never been in love, he was sure of it until now.

Love, he learns, is both a beautiful and ugly thing. It's painfully heart wrenching, it's rough around the edges, and it's filled with complications. But it's also delightful elation, it's easier to fall than expected, and it's... it's simple.

Athanase was in love with this girl at one point in his life, and now he's left with vague memories. It was as simple as that.

But why? Wasn't he curious? How did they fall in love? What made him fall to begin with?

.

("Would you leave me... if you saw the real me?"

. . .

"I don't know.")

.

He doesn't want to know.

.

(Oh, but he does.)

——————————

"Autumn was really surprised that you believed me," he admits into the quiet of the guest room, with Felix sitting in the armchair at his side. It was just the two of them this time. "She didn't think anyone else would — apart from her — and that's only because we both lived the same experience."

Felix stared at him for a moment, his gaze softening as his frown became more neutral. It wasn't quite a smile, but it could've been.

"You're not the type to lie for no reason, Your Highness," Felix stated. "And it does explain the close relationship Your Highness has with Lady Verena — Autumn. A lot of nobles believed that you are both infatuated with one another."

Athan immediately wrinkled his nose at the thought. "She's like a sister to me."

Felix hadn't responded to that right away, as if he were contemplating on whether or not he ought to say something.

"Pardon my asking, but when did Lady Autumn regain her... memories?"

"On the day of my collapse."

"I see..."

"We were both engaged and she wasn't a Saintess. Father didn't care about my sister and I, so he let us do as we pleased as long as we didn't bother him. From what I can remember, Lady Verena's love became a form of obsession which worsened our relationship. Now that we both... remember the past, that will no longer be an issue. She had a somewhat poor relationship with our peers in the past. It's why she wants to be called Autumn, and why she wants to show me that she's not the same person she used to be."

"Is that so?" Felix frowned. "That's... a bit concerning, Your Highness."

"I know, but Lady Verena is no longer the same person she once was," Athan stated. "After losing me, Autumn's trying to atone for the past."

It wasn't the most inaccurate lie he's ever said. Autumn was distraught and regretful after he died, and even now he could see traces of how desperate she wanted him to confide in her. Clearly, she thinks that it was her fault for not being there for him when he died, and so explains the reason why she's trying to make up for it.

"Does Her Highness, your sister, know about this?" Felix hesitated.

"Partially," he shook his head. "She knows about me, but not about Lady Verena."

"That certainly explains a bit. Perhaps you should talk to Crown Princess Athanasia? It seems that she doesn't wish to speak to Lady Autumn at all..."

"I can't force them to get along," he shook his head. "And she avoids me left and right for no good reason."

Felix is silent for a long moment, his face pale as if a horrid thought had come to mind.

"Please reconsider."

"What?" Athanase blinked, looking at Felix.

"Your Highness, please reconsider mending your relationship with Her Highness."

"Why are you suddenly insistent on this?" Athan blinked.

"I don't want history to repeat itself," Felix quietly stated. "Especially with Emperor Claude and Lady Diana's children."

'Oh,' he thinks. 'Oh.'

Felix didn't want a repeat of Anastasius and Claude.

Maybe that was the possible reason why Athanase died in Toska? He doesn't know how he died in his first life. Maybe Athanasia was the catalyst.

He had mixed feelings about that thought, in all honesty.

Maybe he'll talk to Autumn first...

[hadismalekie]

Train your Brain with this Online Color Matching Game

Hi, I write this in a school break time (summer in north hemisphere and winter in south hemisphere)  So you might have missed a game, but if you read this not in a break, always a good game is welcomed!  The game would be on a color wheel  but wait! that color wheel that we see everywhere was an idea by Sir Isaac Newton in Isaac Newton in 1666  [lesson 5 of my color class]

To play the game we go to this websitecolor.method.ac  If you need you can use its tools to calibrate monitor or turn on color blind assist.  The the game start

Then the stages of game start ,stages are "

Hue,

Saturation,

Complementary,

Analogous,

Triadic and

Tetradic 

(The names seems confusing! I will explain them all just be with me) 

The challenge is that you move your mouse or finger to where that you make the colors as close as the the defined color. 

It is interactive and you can easily move but the point is that you should do it in a limited time.  After that if gives you result: such as

poor,

average,

good,

very good,

perfect

I found this game a very good interactive and fun casual game to practice color wheel concepts such as hue and saturation. 

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

Now let me explain you about the names  Hue is about the name of color it self like red, magenta, blue, ...

Comment below this topic: we now rainbows is a continues spectrum but if we want to paint it for children how many hue we  would draw for them? Saturation is about how is the intensity of that color, how pure is that color, for example do you find it as an intense red?  And if you ask me what about how much a color is dark or bright or is close to white or black, I have explained it in real colors in lesson 4 of my color class

Then the game asks you to do a complementary color challenge. Complementary color palette is about when you choose colors on two exact opposite side of a color wheel.  As I explained in lesson 5 of my color class it can affect our feelings and has psychology behind it for example it can be used in visually telling a romantic scene.

Next level of the game would be challenging you in making analogous color palettes 

Analogous color palettes consists of 3 hue of colors but on a color wheel they are side by side. So can you gues what emotional affects it can form? can you recall a movie scene that this type of palette is used? You can learn more about it in lesson 8 of my color class

The game  then invites you to make triadic palette. Triadic means three, the same as analogous it has 3 colors but not close together can you guess how they are placed on a color wheel?  Yes, diverse. Can you feel how vibrant would be the feeling of a triadic palette? In what designs or stories would you like to use them?  lesson 6 of my color class teach you ideas about them. 

And if we choose 4 colors in on a color wheel we call it tetradic palette or a hint for you we also call it double complementary as if we choose two set of complementary colors. Last level of the game is about Tetradic palette.  Lesson 7 of my color class is completely about double complementary (tetradic) palette. 

The game finish here.  But if you are interested to know if there are any other palettes or not, I should say "yes" 

We have split complementary palette, which has three colors, imagine you have 3 colors in a analogous palette then you pick the middle one and bring it to the opposite side.  The place is not important, always think about and analyze the feeling and effect of the palette in your mind, so you use them in a best way in your designs or storytelling.  Lesson 9 of my color class  discuss it. 

In Lesson 3 of my color class I teach a fast forward trick in both Adobe Photoshop and in Gimp. The trick is about applying a color palette of an image for example a shot of movie, to your own image or photo.  To get notified of my upcoming contest in this, please make sure to hit follow button of my profile on SKILLShare , Instagram and Youtube.

Thanks for reading this article. Hope you enjoy playing the game. 

Like this post so I can find out it is reached to you.  till next time ... good bye.. 

-Hadis

[amusl02]

Some sketches of madara with a forehead protector bc I think he looks cute with it

[tittyblade]

tumblr etiquette 101

a list that is nowhere near exhaustive, from yours truly.

First off, welcome! Whether you’re a twitter veteran looking for anything but whatever twitter is, or a new user just done signing up, glad to see you in our ranks beloveds! Welcome home. Refer to this quick tour to make sure your fandom experience (or tumblr experience in general) is a positive one!

Disclaimer: I know it’s long, but please try to read or skim through til the end if you’re new here! This is by no means meant to be a rule book (for the most part lol), only a guide to help you get settled easier!

1) Your blog

This is where people will see and interact with you, so put some effort into it!

Try to choose a name (url) that’s simple. You can see it as your brand, it’s how people will perceive you and remember you. If you’d like to interact with other users here (and not use the site just for the content) it’s better to have something short and sweet, preferably without spaces. (Of course, these are only suggestions.) Rest assured, you can change it literally any time you want.

Have a theme. Utilize the tool that lets you edit your blog’s color or the font of your bio! You can make it match your profile picture, or your blog if it has a theme of its own. Make it feel homey :]

Fill in your bio. People will be checking out your profile probably more often than you think. Don’t leave it empty! Put in any information you’re comfortable with sharing and isn’t too personal (like your age if you’re a minor, or other TMI that can be found on other people’s carrds). It’s always better to add a name/nickname people can use to refer to you by, but feel free to use your blog description to shitpost still.

You can have an intro post. More often than not, you’ll see a blog have a pinned post, a post permanently appearing at the top of a blog until you pin another post or unpin it. You can make one of those, if you’d like to introduce yourself in more length, link any other socials or a carrd, and show others visiting your blog how you tag things so it’ll be easy for them to navigate. Not an obligation.

Keep your anonymity and your safety. It should go without saying, but there’s no harm in repeating it just in case. Your comfort, privacy and safety has the utmost importance. Don’t share any information you don’t want to. Don’t share your age if you’re a minor, or any other incredibly personal info. I’d encourage you to go by a nickname that’s not your real name, (blog name, your brand, remember?) since there’s safety in anonymity, and that’s lowkey one of the big deals of tumblr, but that’s up to you still.

Choose what you want to be visible. Your liked posts and who you follow are all things you can set to keep to yourself and hide from the publics eye, how handy! You should go through all the setting while you’re at it, set it to your comfort.

Side blogs are a thing. You can have multiple blogs that you can use for different things (see: different fandoms, art blog, etc) to keep them organized or away from your followers. Just remember that the replies and off-anon asks you send will be from your main blog, as well as where you follow other blogs from.

2) Interacting with others

You’ve set up your account, now comes the fun part!

Follow to your heart’s desire. If you care about others seeing who you follow, fear not! In tumblr, usually only two types of blogs keep their following visible to others: newbies, and big blogs using it to point people on other good blogs’ direction. Just turn it off, and go ham following people.

Customize your dashboard. Gonna mention just two things here: this is another reason why it’s really important that you follow blogs without sparing, your dash will collect dust otherwise; and you should turn off “best stuff first” in your dashboard settings, to have a better community here and all.

Follow tags. You can set it in your settings that posts with your followed tags appear on your dashboard.

You can check the og post for edits and context. When you see a reblogged post you don’t understand the context of (or don’t recognize the character in case of fanarts), click on the profile so it will take you to the original post. From there you can check the original poster’s tags to get the context, or see if there have been any edits made to the post, since when you edit a post it doesn’t update any past reblogs.

Send people asks... This is how you make mutuals, people! Do it off-anon if you’d like them to know your blog, or anon if you’d rather not! (You can still end your messages with a signature to show you’re the same person, -[name] is one example.) Send them nice messages, ask their opinion on something, discuss things, or just straight up shitpost lol. Go wild. The sky’s your limit and it’s definitely more than 280 characters.

...and let them ask you! You can set your preference in the settings, do it on desktop tumblr to access more settings tho! What you can customize on mobile is limited (like letting people ask you things anonymously, that’s only on desktop settings). In my personal opinion, it’s always better to tag their username (or a nickname you give them, if they’re a friend) on that post, since you wouldn’t want your interactions with your friends to get buried in your blog forever.

Comment on posts. If you have something to say but don’t want the post to appear on your blog you can add a comment. The owner of the post will get a notif for it, but for anyone else you need to tag them.

For the love of god, reblog. People will only see your liked posts if you have it visible to public and they specifically go on your blog to look at them. You like something? You reblog. It’s already hard for posts to circulate properly, if you don’t reblog them literally no one will see them. If not for anything do it for the artists. Just hold and drag on mobile to fast rb.

3) Your Posts

Finally here! Don’t be a lurker, post and engage!

Make use of “read more”. If your post is long, add it. That’s what you clicked on earlier to expand this post. On desktop leave an empty line and you’ll see three dots appear, and on mobile type :readmore: on that empty line.

Draft a post to come back to it later. Pretty self explanatory.

Queue your post. Whether it’s your own post or you’re reblogging, make use of the queue feature to a) not spam reblog and fill up the dashboard of people following you and b) keep your blog active while you’re gone. Mess around in the settings, it’s fairly easy to set up.

Schedule your post. Same as queueing, the only difference is you get to choose the exact time your post will go up. Handy if you want to schedule a post for certain dates like april fools, or 5 years in the future for some reason. 

Format your texts. You can do all kinds of fancy stuff here (that’s a link, try pressing on it). Twitter doesn’t have this, make use of it. Changes depending on whether you’re on mobile or desktop. (Desktop has less features.)

Check your stats. If you’re trying to understand the algorithm better or want to look at some pretty graphs you can get your data on that on desktop tumblr.

@ people in comments. You’ll get all the notifs when people comment on your posts but they won’t see your reply unless you tag them in your message.

4) Tags, and tagging a post

This is where my earlier statement “this isn’t a rule book” stops being applicable. It’s not a war crime to go against these, I won’t come chasing you (don’t take my word for this) but you’ll work up a bad rep. Just saying lol.

Do NOT crosstag posts. It’s really tempting to add unrelated tags to increase your posts’ interaction, I know, but that’s not what tumblr is about. Don’t be a dick and make other communities’ experience worse for them.

Always tag your posts with “crit/critical/discourse/etc” if it calls for it. There’s no exceptions to it. This is the reason you see people migrating to tumblr. Let people enjoy things.

Don’t main tag a critical/negative post. If your crit post is about “Thing”, you add the “Thing critical” tag, but not the “Thing” tag. People block crit tags if they don’t want to see it, don’t shove it in their faces by main tagging it. 

If you don’t want to see something, just block it. Another reason why people are able to survive on tumblr. You don’t start discourse, you don’t make call-outs, you block. You can find something for every community you can think of if you go looking for it. The worst of the worst probably won’t ever appear on your dash, but if you’re worried or feel the need for it, you know where the block button is.

Feel free to shitpost or ramble. More often than not you’ll see people rb a post with a comment, and their elaboration will be in the tags. The tags are only visible on your profile and the notifications of the owner of the og blog. Just a thing people do.

Reblog artists’ posts with nice comments in the tags! Commenting on a drawing is usually done through the tags (Not an obligation, again, just a thing people do. Feel free to add your comment on the rb itself if you’d want other people to see it tho!) and leave nice messages for the artists! It’s a win-win for everyone involved. 

If you have more than a single follower, always use the common tw warning tags. You don’t need to tw everything, but tw’ing some common things is the bare minimum human decency. Keep it safe for others. 

Tag a post “long post” if it’s really long. Pretty self explanatory. Don’t make people scroll through all that please lol. 

You can use them to organize your blog. This is more of a pro tip, if you’d like to not miss a post in your blog, cause they will start pilin’ up soon enough.

#Liveblogging is pretty fun. If you’d like to talk to people during streams, don’t forget to add the relevant tags still! Again, you won’t show up on people’s dash otherwise.

Whew! That got out of hand. Hopefully I didn’t bore you too much. Check out blogs like @heritageposts and @hellsite-hall-of-fame to honor our past o7. @mcytblr-hall-of-fame too maybe :eyes:. Anyways, don’t forget the most important rule of them all:

Enjoy your stay! You’re meant to have fun on here while also making friends (if that’s your thing). Just be kind and respectful of others, you’ll get the hang of the rest! <3

[prurientpuddlejumper]

Don’t Look! [Part 4]

<- Part 3 | Part 5 ->

Frederick Chilton x Reader

@we-are-all-just-a-bit-crazy’s lovecraftian horror AU, with a bit of my own twist on the origin story. Emotional hurt/comfort. Body horror. Hugging your body-horror monster boyfriend. 

3,386 words

Once upon a time, there lived a man who had everything: great wealth (built on the backs of exploited workers), a grand estate, a beautiful wife, and many mistresses waiting in the wings. Yet after years of trying, he failed to produce an heir. Determined that his money could buy anything, the man scoured the world, searching for a solution. One day, his extensive resources brought him to an ancient castle in Lithuania, where the last descendants of a noble bloodline offered him a devil’s bargain—a book, a summoning ritual. He did not ask questions. His wife was finally with child.

The Chilton legacy was secure.

The moment Frederick was born, the life was sucked from his mother—a human sacrifice for his soul crossing into this world. That was what his father told him, at least. Frederick had no memory of clawing his way through the veil between worlds, of being anything other than an ordinary child with a distant father, a young, blonde stepmother, and nannies instead of friends. Until the changes began. Allison (or was it Kayla at the time?) fainted in the living room when he staggered in, screaming as smoke boiled from his skin, begging for help. His father only wrinkled his nose with disgust and calmly explained what he was.

“You must learn to hide this, Frederick. Never let anyone see you this way, or it will destroy the family name.”

And so, he learned the transformation’s schedule. Prepared for it. Knew how to hide it away and never let anyone get close enough to see the real him. But it wasn’t good enough. Try as he might, nothing Frederick ever did met his father’s expectations for the perfect son he had gone through so much trouble to produce.

Frederick grew into a bitter and lonely man with no one to care about, or who cared about him. He kept the world at a distance, hiding his shame behind expensive suits and lavish decoration.

Never once did he consider that he was not alone in this world at all.

 ***

I see him as one of those pitiful things sometimes born in hospitals. They feed it, keep it warm, but they don’t put it on the machines. They let it die. But he doesn’t die. He looks normal. Nobody can tell what he is.

This is how Will Graham describes the Chesapeake Ripper.

Every therapy session with Graham, every conversation overhead, the puzzle became clearer. At first, Chilton merely believed that Dr. Lecter was guilty of unethical practices—manipulating Mr. Graham in the same way he had manipulated Gideon. He felt such kinship with Hannibal. Learning a bit of dirt on him brought the ever-so-superior doctor down to his level, gave him something to lord over him—a little implied blackmail to strengthen their friendship.

They both had secrets to hide.

Dr. Chilton never would have guessed the final puzzle piece to convince him fully that Hannibal was the Chesapeake Ripper would be the one everyone else laughed at.

“I brought you here to bear witness,” Graham said to Gideon through their adjoining cells.

“To tell Jack Crawford that I sat in Hannibal Lecter’s cobalt blue dining room? An ostentatious herb garden, Leda and the Swan over the fireplace. And you, having a fit in the corner.”

Chilton perked up and quickly shared the audio feed to one of the junior therapists assisting him. You were reliable at editing his audio files, clipping and exporting segments he wanted to keep, but he was avoiding you at the moment. This was proof—irrefutable proof that Gideon had met Hannibal Lecter the night he went searching for the Ripper.

After his conversation with Graham concluded, an assistant was sent down to coax more information from him while Chilton’s research team listened in, keenly taking notes.

Gideon was not finished dropping bombshells.

With a casual lilt to his voice as if talking to a friend over dinner, he began to describe the Chesapeake Ripper. Skin like volcanic ash, reflecting no light. A red glow to his eyes. Black claws as long as steak knives. Antlers breaking through the inside of his skull, punching through the skin. All black as night—a form that shifted in the shadows, ever tricking the eye, unwilling to be known.

He’s the Devil, Mr. Graham. He’s smoke.

“Great. Gideon is delusional,” one therapist snorted. “On the bright side, this completely undercuts his malpractice case against you.” She patted Chilton’s shoulder. Chilton flinched.

“We should start him on antipsychotics. What do you think? Doctor?”

Chilton’s face turned ashen white. “Y-yes, certainly,” he muttered, staggering to his feet.

He moved for the door, but crumbled halfway there, pain ripping through his leg as sharp thorns grew beneath the skin. It was daylight. No. No! The transformation should not be starting for hours—he had plenty of time! He gasped out as another shock tore through him, barely containing a cry. His body convulsed.

“Doctor!” A therapist and a guard rushed in to help him to his feet. “Where does it hurt? If this is a complication from your surgery, we need to get you into intensive care right away.”

“No,” he brushed them off. “Only… psychosomatic. I need to— ah!” He gritted his teeth, mind racing to the one person he did not want to turn to, but the only one he could, and barked, “Get my secretary!”

 ***

Smoke was rising off of his burning skin by the time you rushed into Chilton’s vacated office. His eyes were wide with panic, but greeted you when you entered with—not relief, perhaps, because he was every bit as terrified as before, but with the anticipation of being rescued. His eyes pleaded.

“H-help. I cannot make it stop.”

You managed to get him into your car. The sun’s orange rays seemed to chase the beast away, clearing his skin and stopping his wracking convulsions long enough to cross the employee parking lot without drawing stares. He insisted on taking the back seat so he could hide—and to put more distance between you in case he lost control.

His chest rose and fell like a rabbit in a cat’s mouth.

“The way he described Dr. Lecter—anyone would think it was a metaphor! That he was crazy!” Chilton’s breath was raspy as you drove, glancing back at him through the rearview mirror. He kept trembling, small patches of scaly skin appearing at random then swirling back inside. One pupil was a pinprick. His tongue occasionally became serpentine and got in the way as he frantically spoke. “But it was too specific, the details. Familiar. I always knew there was a connection between Dr. Lecter and me—a reason we were friends. It all makes sense now!”

“Hey, it’s OK,” you said, trying to sound soothing, though you had no idea what he was talking about.

“Don’t you understand? Lecter is like me!”

“That’s good, isn’t it? That means you’re not alone.”

“Hannibal Lecter is the Chesapeake Ripper!” he shouted, and a spine tore through a seat cushion. “A cannibal, if Will Graham is to be believed, and loathe as I am to admit it, Graham is an excellent profiler. If the Ripper and I are the same… then that means I—”

“You are nothing like that!” Forgetting the damage his demonic tantrum was doing to your faux-leather interior, you had faith in him. He was a little withdrawn and more than a little vain, and it had garnered him an icy reputation around the hospital, but now you understood why. He wasn’t evil or malicious. He was frightened.

“God help me,” he murmured.

 ***

As soon as the garage door closed behind you, he scrambled from the car (scratching the handle), and retreated inside. He didn’t invite you to follow him home. But he didn’t forbid it, either, and you wanted to be there. All you had were panic-scrambled memories from the first time that made his transformation worse in hindsight than it was. Or maybe better. You didn’t know, and you wouldn’t know until you saw it again with clear eyes.

The electric kettle rumbled on its stand, hissing steam as you searched through Frederick Chilton’s surprisingly extensive tea collection for something herbal and soothing. Chamomile, you thought. With honey. Surely that must be good for demon-monster-werewolf things?

The sun was about to set and he was still reeling over Hannibal, and just as much from the premature transformation the revelation had triggered. And every time he cried, “This is not possible. How can this be possible?” the next convulsion was more intense.

He would probably just burn himself on tea.

A painful whimper came from somewhere in the house, and you followed it to a tiny panic room that opened behind a bookshelf. It was only about seven by nine feet with concrete walls and floors, bare except for deep scratches of varying age, like an animal trying to escape. The few chairs inside were metal. Difficult to break. Frederick faced away from you, staring at a hand that was too large for the rest of his body, capped with long black claws.

“Oh no, this will not do at all,” you tutted, shaking your head at the barren space. “How about I bring in some blankets? Let’s get you comfortable.”

His whole body shook. “You should go.”

“No. No way, not after seeing this prison cell. I am not leaving you like this.”

“I do not want to hurt you.” His shoulder jerked. A spike tore through his shirt.

“You won’t.”

“Seeing it again… will not be therapeutic for you,” he hissed, another spike breaking through. “Go before it is too late.”

“No!”

“Damn it! I am a monster—there is proof of that now! The FBI has no idea what it is dealing with!” Chilton began to pace the small cell, thoughts racing, features morphing into something grotesque and alien. “Does Hannibal know about me? Can he sense it? Is that why he confided in me? I always thought it was professional respect—hah! God, what if he…” A painful convulsion halted his pacing and brought him to one knee, gripping his side. His attention snapped back to you. “This is… dangerous,” he warned, then hacked violently. Fleshy, snake-like projections spewed from his mouth, and he quickly turned away again, hiding his face. “You should… you should be nowhere near all of this! You should not be here! Why did I let you inside?!”

A roar of anguish ripped through the air with enough force to push you back through the panic room door, just in time to avoid being impaled on half a dozen spines as they shot from Chilton’s body like lances. Chips of concrete clattered to the ground as they penetrated the walls. He screamed again, writhing to get free, but found himself trapped by his own violent transformation. Like an animal, he struggled and clawed at himself as if his rational mind had been overtaken by raw, volatile emotion.

“Take it easy. You’re going to hurt yourself,” you tried to calm him, but you couldn’t stop your voice from shaking.

This was worse than last time. You were sure his spines weren’t half as long when you saw him in his office—even Chilton seemed surprised to be pinned.

You lifted your hands, palms toward him in a steadying gesture, and took a step back into the concrete room.

“Stay back!” he howled, thrashing. “Get away!”

It was tempting. Every muscle in your body wanted to follow his advice and run far away from the indescribable horror before you. But his eyes were still green. Were still terrified. And you had an inkling of why it was worse this time. Maybe he would hate you later for imposing, but it seemed more important right now not to leave him feeling… like a monster.

“It’s OK.” You took another step closer.

“No!”

“You’re not going to hurt me. I trust you. Shh, shh… I’m not afraid, see?”

Rigid spines sprayed from his back and shoulders in a 180-degree arc, leaving only his front accessible. You ducked under one and followed its trajectory to where it met the wall. It wasn’t just pinned by pressure—it had struck the wall with enough force to dig into it like an iron rod. Sawing through might be the only option for getting him unstuck. You wondered if that would hurt. Were there nerves in his spines? You stepped over the next one as you drew nearer.

“You should be afraid! I am just like him!” Chilton tried to turn his head away as you traversed his network of thorns and stood in front of him.

His face was almost entirely inhuman. Tentacles cascaded down from where a nose should have been, and when he opened his mouth in a snarl, they parted like wriggling eels—each with a life of its own—to reveal a jaw that split his face open vertically, crowded with rows of sharp white teeth. The more agitated Chilton became, the more dramatic the effect. Each time he spoke, you caught a flash of teeth that sent shivers racing down your spine. But you continued to move closer anyway, within snapping range.

“Hannibal and I… we are the same. Please—I do not want to become him. Do not let me hurt you!”

“You are not the same. You’re not a killer.”

Chilton let out a choking cry that was all too human. “I killed that nurse,” he said. Concrete groaned as his spines grew longer. A crooked horn sprouted from his head. “I killed Elizabeth Shell.”

“You… you didn’t kill her.”

His breath quickened again. Tentacles sprouted and died and resprouted from his face in a constant fevered motion. “I knew Gideon would kill! I lowered security! I knew what would happen—what I needed to happen to prove that he was the Ripper! I may as well have plucked her eyes out with my own hands and… and feasted on her organs. God… I am the Ripper,” he wailed.

“No…” It never occurred to you that Dr. Chilton would have done such a thing knowingly. Maybe there was something dark inside him that this creature was reflecting. It hurt to acknowledge, and yet maybe you both needed to. “You made a mistake. You did a bad thing, but… Gideon was already a killer. It wasn’t your fault.”

“I drove him to it, manipulated him… I am just as responsible as he is. I am a monster.”

“A monster wouldn’t feel this guilty! You made a mistake, but you won’t make it again, will you?”

Tentacles and spines stopped sprouting. His form stabilized as his wet eyes looked off thoughtfully. He seemed so pathetic… so innocent, almost. Despite the intimating spines and claws that added danger and height to his appearance, his body had the same mass—leaving his frame gaunt and frail, with ribs sticking out prominently. Hollow.

You wanted to protect him.

You knew that was your job at BSHCI. You knew that was why Dr. Chilton suddenly needed a personal secretary when he never had before. Someone to sit outside his door, take his calls, and warn him when visitors wanted to see him. You’d never met the doctor before he was attacked by one of his patients, but you recognized the signs of trauma—the way he flinched easily, avoided contact at first, then the way he clung to you when you earned his trust. The awkward little smiles. The way his cheeks turned bright red when his fingers brushed yours as you delivered his coffee. You couldn’t help feeling protective. Falling in love, even.

Though it was closed for the moment, his mouth was a dangerous black hole with alien arms ready to pull prey inside. It seemed impossible to get close without being dragged into its teeth by instinct. You couldn’t imagine putting your face anywhere near it.

Another step, and your forehead touched his.

“I... I do not want to hurt you,” he pleaded.

“You won’t.”

You leaned into his arms, a hand reaching up to stroke the side of his face. It was covered in fine scales that glistened as if they should be slimy, but were smooth to the touch, like a snake. Sharper thorns sprouting from his skin seemed to retreat before your caress.

He trembled with inner turmoil, hot breath puffing against your chin. Your eyes darted toward the motion of one of his claws rising behind you, and all you could focus on were the way each sharp talon caught the light. You couldn’t be sure what he was thinking—if he was going to return your embrace, or prove to you that he was a monster. Would he slash you just to drive you away?

“I smell your fear,” his voice hissed accusingly.

For some reason, of all the reactions you could have had, you started to laugh. It was nervous and tight at first, but then building in confidence at the ridiculousness of the situation.

“You’ve got giant claws! Of course I’m afraid! But I’m not running, am I?”

You slid your hand from his cheek and trailed it over his bony neck and the ridges and spines of his shoulders, finding a path for your arms to twine around him. Cuddling closer, you nuzzled into the crook of his neck, hardly bothered by the writhing tentacles that draped down over you.

“I know you would never hurt me. You’re just going to have to keep showing me there’s nothing to be afraid of.”

Shuddering, he breathed in your scent. All his senses were heightened by this form, and he was surrounded by you—your pheromones, your electric field, the radiant heat of your skin. It was like sinking into a warm bath with a glass of fine wine in his hand. He opened his palm and let his predator’s hand sweep harmlessly down your back, holding you close. He could sense the fluttering of your heart in his embrace. It was slower than a creature in terror—slowing the longer he held you. You were not afraid. And he could not imagine hurting you. Whatever he had been worried might happen, whatever awful things he might be capable of, he could never imagine hurting you. You were right. You didn’t have anything to fear.

He exhaled a long, steady breath of surrender. The long spines retracted, pulling out of the walls as they returned to their usual size. He could move again, but didn’t. Not for a long time.

“It’s OK. It’s OK,” you sighed. The scent of your hair was intoxicating.

Eventually, you had to part. Chilton’s eyes darted away as you did—the inky scales on his face emitted a soft bluish starlight, which you were certain was blushing. You could not coax him to leave his concrete prison cell, but he told you where to find some blankets he could live with damaging—linen closet, second floor, third door on the right—and let you make a cozy nest on the bare floors. You made tea, and only cringed a little at his attempts to drink it. It was late, then. You were sleepy, and he was exhausted. Emotionally drained. His mind still raced over everything, still not certain of your presence and inexplicable kindness. You sat in the pile of blankets and had him rest his head in your lap.

“Give me your hand,” you asked, extending yours.

A clawed, scaly hand slid tentatively along the floor. You took it. Held it gently, first observing the long talons protruding like daggers from each finger before slotting yours between them—nothing sharp there. You let out a long sigh and leaned back against the concrete wall. His breath hitched.

He’d never had his hand held in this form, you assumed.

He’d never had his hand held at all, in fact. Not in many years.

It had to be a trap, he thought. No one had ever loved him before. No one could—not like this. Yet, as he fell asleep to your fingers massaging his temple and the soft murmuring of your voice, he let himself believe it. You were always there, protecting him. Smiling at him in the morning.

When you woke up, Frederick was human again, still fast asleep in your arms.

[demoneyesanddamagedsouls]

Sparring Partners

Chapter 3: Infiltrate The Enemy

A/N: Alright so this is Chapter 3 of this fic, I got a little carried away with this chapter that's why the word count is more than last time. We're starting to get into the thick of it now! I have a feeling that each chapter will probably get longer and longer as I go cause I'm just enjoying writing it so much. Feedback and comments as always are so welcome, I’d love to hear your thoughts, and if you’d like to be tagged for the upcoming chapters just let me know! xxx

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x F! Reader

I have also just created a playlist for ya’ll to listen to while reading. I hope it gets you even more invested! ✨COCKY COWBOY PLAYLIST✨

Summary: You and Agent Whiskey are long time rivals. As Statesman agents you both have been put up for the same promotion and this mission is your final chance to prove yourself. Have you got what it takes?

| Read on Ao3 |  

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: Slight Language, Canon-typical violence (got heavier on this one, blood, pain, choking, weapon usage) 

|| Writing Masterlist ||

Get added to my Taglist!

CHAPTER 3: Infiltrate The Enemy

Driving through city, listening to the soft sounds of the radio, you head towards the hospital. Mentally preparing yourself for the day ahead you run through your fake persona. You were going undercover as a young medical student in training that had been transferred from your university to take up a short placement at the CleanPlanet facilities. With all that you had learnt over the years helping Ginger out with certain tech and patching up different injuries you felt that you had a slight grasp on some basic medical terminology and concepts. You simply needed to blend into the background and focus on the mission at hand.

Continuing along you begin to leave the hustle and bustle of the city life, moving further out into the outskirts of town. The hospital was in a more remote area, another way to keep suspicious, prying eyes away from their experiments you thought, as you continued along the rather empty road. As you approach the multi storeyed hospital complex you notice the large wire fence which circled the perimeter of the area, the gates at the front wide open for visitors. You drive onto the lot and park in the staff area to the right, inside the gate. Taking a deep breath, you collect yourself, brushing the loose strands of hair that had fallen out of your ponytail and tucking them behind your ear. Pulling out the earpiece from the small box that Ginger had given you, you quickly tuck it behind the arm of your glasses at the top of your ear to hide it from view.

Grabbing your bag from the backseat of the car, you take out your lab coat that Ginger had given you and pulled it over your shoulders. Pulling your knees up you pull your small throwing knives out of your duffle, strapping a few to your thighs. You weren’t about to go into this hostile situation without being prepared. Pulling your lab coat around you to cover up your hidden weapons you hop out of your personas rundown car and start walking towards the hospitals main entrance. Curiously, you notice a lot of doctors, other professionals, and a few security guards here and there wandering around the perimeter of the fence.

You counted about 23 people in total from what you could see, some talking together, some having a cigarette break, and so on. But as you look closer, you realise that all these seemingly random people dappled around were wearing communication earpieces. On some of the security guards you even noticed the outline of a handgun tucked into the back of their shirts. It seemed that the hospital was on high alert and extremely well-guarded. Everything was going to be just fine, just blend in and focus. You’ve got this. You murmur to yourself to ease your nerves, focusing on embodying the new persona you needed to become. Out of the corner of your eye you notice a strikingly familiar shiny blue chrome. You turn ever so slightly to see that Whiskey’s car was parked in the visitor’s area around the side of the hospital. I suppose Duke Silver has already arrived…

Heading inside you walk over to the information desk flashing your ID badge to the receptionist. “I’m the new student transfer here for my placement from the University of Texas, where am I heading?” You query, putting a quiver into your voice, you wanted to really sell the part of the first-time med student. The woman behind the desk gestures behind you. “Down the hall and to your left sweetheart…” Looking at you she smiles; she must see the nervousness you were portraying. “You’ll do just fine darlin, Doctor Violet will be mentoring you and she is just downright lovely. You’ve got nothing to be worried about.”

Continuing to fake your anxious energy, you tuck an invisible hair behind your ear activating your earpiece in one swift movement. Thanking the woman profusely you head in the direction she had gestured. The hospital was abuzz with activity all around you patients being moved, doctors and nurses chatting amongst each other, people waiting for their loved ones. It certainly looked and felt like a real hospital, an impressive cover, you thought to yourself. As you continue further down the hallway, the herd of people starting to thin, you realise you were moving towards the staff offices in the back. Looking around quickly to make sure you were out of earshot of anyone you speak quietly to yourself attempting to communicate with Whiskey on the other side of the hospital. “Hey Whiskey, my lines open, just holler if you run into any trouble.”

You hear a sharp crackle coming from your earpiece as Whiskey turns his earpiece on. “Likewise, Vodka,” he says, his voice unusually quiet, “I’m currently in the waiting room outside Howard’s office, there’s a few other wealthy looking gentlemen and women in here with me, who I assume will also be receiving a tour of the facilities… I’ll be right here if you need me, sunshine.” He purposely drew out his nickname he had for you, his voice dragging out every syllable. You could practically hear the smirk in his whispered tone.

Chuckling internally, you click your earpiece off so as not to distract your partner, or vice versa. You continued along towards Dr Violets office, turning around the corner and almost colliding into the other students gathered outside her door. There was about 4 of them in total, 5 including yourself. Shit, you need to be more careful. Anyone could have heard you. You look around to the others but they we’re all completely focused, eyes trained on the blue door which read “Dr. Octavia Violet M.D.”

Suddenly, the door swings open causing the other students to jump in surprise. Out from the office steps a prominent figure, a tall and dashing woman dressed in deep navy suit with a black button up underneath, a black tie wrapped around her neck. Brown hair wrapped into a low bun and round glasses resting on the bridge of her nose she exuded the air of highly intelligent and respected medical practitioner. Adjusting your lab coat and pushing your glasses up your nose, you continue to emulate a feeling of nervousness. This wasn’t too difficult a task as you already felt rather intimidated and yet oddly impressed by this woman. Her presence felt powerful, a quiet strength about her, shown in the way she carried herself.

“Hi there everyone, you all must be my new placement students,” She spoke, a kind smile plastered on her face. “I’m Dr Violet, I’ll be looking after you while you’re here with us over the next few weeks.” After all of you had introduced yourself separately, she began to lead you out towards the main part of the hospital, “It’s lovely to meet you all, now if you’d follow me its time I showed you around our facilities here at CleanPlanet so that you can become familiar with your new place of work.” Her black stilettos clicked as she walked, taking you past the reception desk and deeper into the hospital. Walking behind her with the other students in tow you noticed a small intricate scar poking out from underneath her jacket collar. You rest your index finger on your glasses attempting to use the tech to get a closer look. Managing to take a slightly zoomed in picture before she whips back around to address her small group of attentive pupils, you curse lightly under your breath and move further back.

You’d have to try to get a better look at whatever that was later, you couldn’t afford to draw any suspicion to yourself in such a small group. Dr Violet looks over her new students and begins to speak, “Alright so this first wing is the main hospital ward, we have different stations for certain requirements and specialists scattered around so we can accommodate a good number of inpatients here. Now further along…” Moving again the group walks further into the hospital into a more private area with sectioned off rooms and areas, “This is where we have our specialist medical, surgical and psychiatric wards. The main ward and these areas will be where you spend the majority of your time while on placement as the other side of the hospital is mainly outpatient facilities such as the A&E and the ICU.” She turned back to look at the group as she continued, “One of our main purposes here at CleanPlanet is to run test trials of experimental, but potentially lifesaving new procedures and medications,” You ears perk up at this statement, this might be what you needed to look further into.

The drug tests had seemed to be the source of the fatalities and illnesses that you had discovered in your research. “This is something we are very proud of and something you will be helping assist with. Trial subjects will need to be prepped for these new tests and made comfortable especially for certain surgeries and medications.”

You attempted to jot down some notes in a small note pad you had brought in your bag to appear as studious as some of her other pupils. You needed to keep a low profile. But on the inside your mind was reeling, what did she mean by making the patients comfortable and prepped for these trials and why would it be the student’s task to do this? If anything, it seemed that this would be a potential way to take the blame off CleanPlanet and its employees. If the students administered any medication to an unsuspecting patient, CleanPlanet would get away scot free, getting yet another unsuspecting party to do their dirty work.

As your mind processed this new information you realise that you had zoned Dr Violet out, “… we’ll be running you through what trials we’ll be running and what we’ll be getting you to do further along. Please follow me.” Walking further into these more secluded surgery and prep rooms you began to feel an unsettling ambience fill the space. The hallway had become starker, with fewer staff, the temperature had dropped to reflect the much colder and highly sanitised appearance of your new surroundings. The staff that were around had stern appearances and were adorned in different protective gear. Some wearing masks and protective goggles with some even wearing full hazmat suits. Dr Violet led you into one of the larger rooms off the main hallway and as you walked in provided each of you with a face mask of your own.

What on earth was going on here? You turn to look at Dr Violet once more, she was standing in front of a small group of staff who were sitting at multiple different desks with computer monitors in front of them. All of them were facing towards one wall in the room with what appeared to be a large, shadowed frame set into it. Each staff member was also wearing a facemask which covered their nose and mouth, jotting down notes and adjusting certain information on their screens.

It appeared to be a human x ray with different vital sign information down the side, as you peered further forward towards the screen closest to you to try and get a better look, your train of thought is suddenly interrupted by Dr Violets voice. “Alright students, we’re about to run you through a preparation and procedure of one of our focal trials here at CleanPlanet.” A mask now covering the bottom half of her face. She snapped her fingers and suddenly the frame on the wall behind her burst into vivid colour. You could see behind her a patient sitting on a small medical bed, a young male. Pale under the luminescent glow of the white medical lights, he looked almost translucent. You realised that the frame on the wall must be a one-way mirror allowing you a protected view into an adjacent medical suite.

A doctor stood over the boy, who couldn’t be more than your age, with a forced happy demeanour plastered across his face. You saw the doctors mouth moving but heard no sound to accompany it, the boy nodded in agreement and then signed a sheet of paper that the doctor held out for him on a clipboard. As the boy laid down onto the bed the doctor exited the room and you tapped your glasses frame lightly once more to begin to film what you were seeing, you had a feeling this was going to be important.

Dr Violet continued to speak as that same doctor entered the room you were standing in. “This is pivotal new research that we’ve been conducting to find a treatment for some of the big incurable diseases that plague the human race.” As she continued to speak you couldn’t bring yourself to turn in her direction, your eyes locked onto the room through that you could see through the frame. You began to notice the white cushioned padding covering the entirety of the walls within the room, and a large pit of concern began to open in your stomach. Why did it look like a cell in a mental institution in there…? “For this particular experiment we have been testing out an anaesthetic gas which aims to heighten the strong cells within the body to naturally fight off the illnesses and ailments which plague the patient.” Dr Violet explains to the students.

Suddenly you see a cloud of pale-yellow gas erupt from the ceiling above the patient. It starts to fill up the medical suite in front of your eyes as the young man squirms worriedly on the medical bed. The gas slowly engulfs the room, so thick that you can no longer see the patient. Everything is quiet for a few moments as everyone holds their breath in suspense. Suddenly the screens on front of the medical staff begin to flash in a warning red, the computers making load concerning beeps. All of a sudden you see the monitored heart rate on one of the screens plummet to zero and then shoot back up to over 200 beats per minute.

Dr Violet looks over at one of the screens with a concerned expression on her face. She leans closer to the window frame in front of her, trying to see further in when all at once there is load crack. A fist slams into the mirror with a huge amount of brute force only millimetres away from Dr Violets face. She recoils back out of shock from the sudden noise but quickly steadies herself, shaking off any worry in her now drawn expression. You continue to watch in horror as some of the gas begins to dissipate, revealing the maddened face of the patient through the mirrored frame. He was slamming himself repeatedly into the wall trying to break through the glass that separated us from him.

“Unfortunately…” The doctors voice cut through the shock that had paralysed your body, “Not every test is a success.” She trails off looking back at the boy behind the glass. His eyes were red and wild as he frantically ran around the room smacking into every possible surface, desperate to escape. He gripped the sides of his head with his hands, his face contorting in agony as an unheard scream ripped through him. He collapsed to the ground on his knees, his body shuddering in pain. You could see blood begin to drip down his cheeks out of his ears onto the floor, staining the stark white room with a deep and ominous red. Finally he collapses onto the floor, the life drained from his body, blood seeping and creating a halo around the crown of his head.

Dr V begins listing off some of the side effects of this new test such as migraines, nausea, everything up to internal bleeding. “This is a particularly exceptional case, a sharp learning curve for our testing. One of the many exciting trials and tribulations of scientific progress!” A smile lighting up her features, her whole-body tense with excitement. How could she be excited about what had happened here? You thought as your attempted to hide the pure shock and panic that was screaming out on the inside. All at once you see a few medical assistants in hazmat suits pull the lifeless body of the boy out of the suite in front of you. The room then floods with water from the sprinklers embedded in the ceiling, washing the blood down the small drain under the patient bed. “Bring in the next test subject.” Says one of the medical techs into a microphone.

No sooner had the room been cleared it had been filled again, a new patient being sat on the bed, a young woman, her face tired and worn. She had no idea what was about to happen. The view to the suite goes black once more, obscuring it from view and you and the rest of the students are hurriedly being ushered out of the room by Dr V. Everyone pulls their masks off as they leave, it seems everyone was a bit shaken from that experience. Still reeling from what you had just witnessed you keep your gaze fixed to the floor away from the prying eyes of the doctor. She continues walking and talking but you can no longer hear anything she says, your head is pounding. You need to get back there and get all the test information onto a hard drive for Statesman. You need to figure out how far this really goes. Looking up once more you raise your hand. Dr Violet looks directly at you, her gaze piercing you to your very core. “Yes?” She queries.

“May I be excused to go to the restroom Doctor?” You say, a slight quiver in your voice, this was certainly no act.

“Of course, there’s nothing wrong with having a slightly weak constitution.” Looking you up and down she waves her hand, gesturing for you to leave. “Go collect yourself. You can catch up with us further along.”

“Thank you Doctor.” Gripping tightly onto your notebook you dash back down away from the rest of the group as they continue along. You duck into the bathroom that you had passed earlier, quickly checking that there was no one else inside. Walking up to one of the sinks you look at your reflection in the mirror. Your complexion had paled from the shock of what you had witnessed, and your hands trembled as you gripped onto the ceramic of the basin fighting to keep yourself upright. Turning on the faucet you quickly splash some water across your face. You needed to get a grip and focus. You had a job you needed to do.

Tapping your earpiece, you open the communication line, exhaling softly to calm your nerves. “Whiskey, are you there?” Hearing another crackle, you hear his line open.

“I’m here Vodka, whaddya need sugar?” He says voice quiet, speaking only loud enough for you to hear.

“Ok well there have been some developments on my end, I’m about to head back into the lab we just left where my eyes were subjected to some pretty traumatic stuff…” You trail off recalling the horrific scene.

“What happened??” He queries, worry present in his tone of voice. You recount everything you had seen to him so he could get a full picture of what the hell was going on. “That sounds positively concerning…” Whiskey sighs audibly through the comm. “Well, I’m currently getting a wrap up of the facility tour from Howard so keep me on the line while you execute this and holler if you get into to any trouble.”

“Will do, Agent.” Quickly exiting the bathroom, you look down the hallway in the direction of your medical group, seeing no evidence of them and hearing nothing you begin to move in the opposite direction. Heading back towards the medical lab you quicken your pace, making use of the apparent emptiness of the hallway to reach your destination quicker.

“Jeez Vodka, you’re breathing so hard I think I’m going to go deaf in this ear.” Whiskey quips.

“Excuse me for thinking timing is of the essence in this situation cowboy.” You mutter to yourself angrily, as you reach the door to the medical lab you had visited earlier. Wary to keep your voice low, you didn’t know what was on the other side of that door. You hear Whiskey chuckle to himself, laughing at your constant irritation towards him. Ignoring him you turn the handle and hearing a soft click you push the door open.

Stepping inside the dark room you see two lab techs turn from their computers to face you. “I’m so sorry, I think I left something of mine in here earlier…” you glance around the room assessing your options. You need to get these two out of the way quickly so that you can access the information you need before anyone else comes back. Spotting a stapler on the desk closest to you amongst other scattered office supplies you quickly pick it up and open it. Looking back at the lab techs, you throw them a meagre smile.

“Sorry about this…” You mutter quietly, throwing the stapler into the air and in one swift movement you throw yourself into a cartwheel, flipping your leg forward, kicking the stapler directly in the middle, snapping it in half with the edge of your heel. The two ends of the stapler fly as you return to an upright stance, each side hitting the two lab techs square on their forehead, knocking them out cold. You smirk to yourself, proud of your efficient work.

“Everything under control Vodka?” You hear Whiskeys voice in your ear.

“Everything is under control.” You say as you dash over to the closest computer to you, rolling the lab tech who was slumped over in his own office chair out of the way. Pulling a hard drive out of your back pocket you quickly plug it into the port on the side of the computer screen. Tapping a few keys like Ginger taught you, the entire computer log begins to copy over to your hard drive. Files start to flick across the screen showing you all you ever needed to know about the trials they were running. Pictures of patients flit across the screen, hundreds of people with deceased written in bold red letters across their files. “My god…” you say, your voice catching as the number of files continue to rise.

“What’s going on there Vodka?” You hear a mutter in your ear.

“Whiskey I…” You trail off unable to comprehend how many people had been used and tossed aside for this drug trial. “I cannot believe how many patients they’ve gone through for this drug Jack…” You using his real name throws Whiskey for a loop. He knows how serious this must be if all the sarcasm and snipes had left your voice completely. You continue talking, trying to keep your nerves in check as the picture of the boy from earlier flashes onto the screen, the same words across his picture in red. “The drug they’re testing is an anaesthesia type gas which they’re calling Sunflower… It seems that in most of the cases it takes the patients about a week to experience the more intense symptoms and then eventually…” Trailing off again, your silence saying everything you couldn’t seem to articulate.

All of a sudden, the door to the lab opens and you see the frame of Dr Violet step inside. She quirks her eyebrow at you and glances at her two unconscious techs, down to the hard drive and then back up at you. You hear a small beep come from the computer notifying you that the upload had been completed. You quickly snatch the drive out of the computer as Dr V stared you down.

Looking at you with a knowing smile she puts her hand out towards you. “I think I’ll be taking that off your hands sweetheart.” She says with her hand outstretched.

“I don’t think so Violet.” You say as you quickly pocket the drive, bringing your hands to hover over the knives strapped to your thighs, bracing for a fight.

A crackle comes through your earpiece suddenly, “Vodka, is everything alright?”

You have no time to respond because all at once Dr V goes in for a jab directly into your stomach. Catching you off guard, you keel over in shock and from being suddenly winded, gripping your stomach. “That’s Doctor to you.” Dr V quips. Gasping, desperately trying to regain your breath you pull out one of your knives from your thigh holster and lunge at her, aiming a blow for her shoulder.

Expecting the blade to sink into soft flesh you put all your weight and strength behind your throw. The knife collides with her shoulder, but nothing happens. You hear the clang of metal clashing. Instead of sinking in, the blade slashes downwards, cutting through her lab coat and her suit revealing a metal covering underneath. The force that should have impacted the doctor reverberates back into your arm sending a jarring shock through your body. Quickly recovering you kick out directly at her left leg landing a heavy blow which forces her to recoil back.

Both catching your breath you stare the doctor down. “How could you possibly think what you’re doing here is ok?” You pant out getting ready for your next move.

“We’re trying to improve the world, make people stronger… but sometimes you have to crack a few bad eggs before you find the right one.” She says matter-of-factly, as she nurses her leg.

You both resume a fighting stance readying yourselves. “You’re hurting so many people just to achieve that goal, can’t you see that the harm outweighs any potential good you’re trying to accomplish?” You throw back at her, a venomous anger reaching your voice at her absolute callousness to the situation. You throw your other blade attempting to take her by surprise and incapacitate her, aiming for her already injured leg. The knife hits its mark with deadly accuracy, sinking into the flesh of her thigh. Dr Violet cries out in pain, sucking air through her teeth as she controls her reaction. She flicks her gaze away from the knife sticking out of her leg back at you, a new fury in her eyes.

“Sunshine are you handling the situation?” You hear Whiskeys tense voice in your ear.

Dr Violet runs at you throwing her non injured leg out kick you hard in the ribs. You grunt in pain, exhaling sharply. Without giving you a chance to recover she grabs you by the throat and clamps her fingers down, restricting any air flow into your lungs. She lifts you up with one arm by the neck keeping you from being able to breath. You grasp her hand with both your own, trying to tear her fingers away from your throat, trying to let any amount of air reach your lungs. She holds you there like you weigh almost nothing, looking you up and down. You thrash out with your legs trying to somehow escape from her grasp as black spots start to cloud your vision.

“Sweetheart?!” You hear Whiskey in your ear once more, his voice riddled with concern. Trying to choke out a response to your partner as your voice cracks, “P-Please…” is all you can muster. You feel yourself start to slip out of consciousness in the doctor’s vice like grip. You hear her calm voice as your body movements start to slow and weaken, “I think you will make a fine new test subject for our trial.” She says with a large smirk gloating at you, her new prize.

All you hear as you finally succumb to unconsciousness is Whiskey yelling your name through the com as your body collides with the floor…

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

Permanent Tags:

@hrk-fic-recs  @misslexilouwho  

[magnusmysteries]

Part 4: The Sixteenth Fear

The Magnus Archives was a horror podcast. It is now completed. Many of the show’s mysteries were never explained on the show. I intend to explain them. Spoilers for the show, but also spoilers if you wanna solve these mysteries yourself.

In part 3 I said every fear has an opposite. But the Flesh didn’t exist before the industrial revolution. So there would have been 13 fears then, an uneven number, and not every fear could balance against an opposite. So how could that be?

The answer is, there were only 12 fears before the Flesh. The Corruption and the Desolation used to be the same fear. 

Diego Molina of the Lightless Flame cult worships Asag. A Sumerian god of disease that could make fish boil. So Asag seems to be of both the Corruption and the Desolation.

In Infectious Doubts Arthur Nolan complains about it: “Not like I can vent to the others about what a prat Diego is. Got a lot of funny ideas. Still calls the Lightless Flame Asag, like he was when he was first researching it. I just really wanna tell him to get over it; I mean Asag was traditionally a force of destruction, sure, but as a church we very much settled on burning in terms of the – face we worship, and some fish-boiling Sumerian demon doesn’t really match up, does it? Plus there’s a lot of disease imagery with Asag that I’ll reckon is way too close to Filth for my taste, but no, he read it in some ancient tome, so that’s that –“

Ancient is the key word. The tome predates the industrial revolution and the Flesh. Asag probably isn’t a thing anymore and Diego is indeed a prat for worshipping it.

In The Architecture of Fear Smirke writes “I know you say the Flesh was perhaps always there, shriveled and nascent until its recent growth, but to grant the existence of such a lesser power would throw everything into confusion. Would you have me separate the Corruption into insects, dirt, and disease? To divide the fungal bloom from the maggot?”

It is not random that Smirke uses the Corruption as an example here. The Corruption is the opposite of the Flesh, so the Corruption is the fear that Smirke believed had no opposite for hundreds or thousands of years.

In part 3 I said vampires where Corruption/Desolation/Hunt. This is a little far-fetched, but I wonder if the vampire’s we’ve seen have been old ones that predate the Flesh. And that’s why they are part Corruption, since Corruption and Hunt used to be next to each other. Maybe there are more modern vampires without the long sucking tongue. Maybe instead of sucking blood, when they bite you begin to burn or boil. Since the Hunt is now next to the Desolation instead of the Corruption-Desolation combo.

In Vampire Killer Trevor says “I have killed five people that I know for sure as vampires, and there are two more that may or may not have been.” There is a missing middle part of Trevor’s statement. Maybe there he talks about killing two vampires that are modern and therefore different so he’s not sure if they’re actually vampires.

Speaking of fears splitting up, why is the Darkness the opposite fear of the Slaughter? In Last Words we hear of the first fear “A fear of blood and pounding feet, a fear of that sudden burst of pain and then nothing.” 

And of the second fear “The fear of their own end, of the things that lived in the darkness, became a fear of the darkness itself.”

I think the first was a general fear of violence. It includes what became the Hunt “Blood and pounding Feet...” and the Slaughter “...Sudden burst of pain and then nothing”, and the End “The fear of their own end…” And the second fear was the Darkness. They were the opposite by default, simply for being the two first fears.

When the Buried became a fear, the Hunt split up from the Violence to oppose it. When the Vast became a fear, the End split up from the Violence to oppose it. All that was left of the Violence was Slaughter, still opposing the Dark. When humans began warfare, fear of war fit nicely with the Slaughter.

The Eye might have been part of the Dark at first. Still from Last Words: “...because they knew the dark held flashing talons and shining eyes…” 

When the Lonely became a fear, the Eye split up from the Dark to oppose it.

So what about the Extinction? Does it have an opposite? Yes! There is a sixteenth fear. And what can be the opposite of the fear of the end of the world? The fear that the world isn’t real. That we’re all just living in a computer simulation. If you think the world isn’t even real, you’re not gonna be so worried about it ending. I’ll call it the Simulation.

Here is how the fears are arranged on the wheel, with the two latest fears added:

Description of image: A circle with 16 spots similar to a clock. On each spot is a number and the name of a power: 1. Corruption. 2 Extinction. 3. Desolation. 4. Hunt. 5. Slaughter. 6. End. 7. Lonely. 8. Stranger. 9. Flesh. 10. Simulation 11. Spiral. 12. Buried. 13. Dark. 14. Vast. 15. Eye. 16. Web.

The Extinction is next to the Corruption. Disease and garbage are both gross. Possessive is an Extinction episode, even if not acknowledged as such by any of the characters. It’s about garbage. And Maggie is creating people out of garbage. She is making the inheritors mentioned in Time of Revelation. There are also creatures made of garbage in Concrete Jungle. And Maggie was full of moving insect legs, showing Corruption influence.

Quote from Adelard Dekker from Rotten Core: “I’ve spoken before about how keenly I’ve watched news of possible pandemics, which is where I suspect the Extinction may pull away from the Corruption during its emergence.” Adelard knows the Extinction is next to Corruption.

The Extinction is next to Desolation. That fits, nuclear weapons cause fire. Quote from Times of Revelation, describing corpses: “They were stiff, and desiccated, mummified by some process Bernadette could not begin to guess at, but that rendered their flesh like tightly packed ash” Ash as if they were burned.

The Simulation is next to the Flesh. The Flesh makes you think humans aren’t people, they are just meat. The Simulation makes you think humans aren’t people, they are just NPCs.

The Simulation is the next to the Spiral. Both make you question what is real. The Spiral makes you doubt your mind, the Simulation makes you doubt your world.

There are four episodes about the Simulation: Binary, Zombie, Cul-de-sac and Reflection.

In Binary Sergey Ushanka uploads his mind into a computer. He becomes a simulation and it hurts. There is influence by the Spiral, the statement giver isn’t sure if she’s going crazy. And there is influence by the Flesh. Ushanka uploads himself into a computer and then he eats the computer. So that’s cannibalism.

In Zombie the statement giver thinks other people aren’t real, they’re philosophical zombies, In other words they like simulations or NPCs. The man that follows her repeats the phrase “Just fine, thank you for asking” and says nothing else. Just like some NPCs in video games will say the same phrase over and over. The man is identical the three times they meet, except for his t-shirt changes color. Sometimes in video games some NPCs will be identical, except for some colors are changed. (Because it’s less work to recollar a character than to draw one from scratch.)

John thinks Cul-De-Sac is about the Lonely. And yes, the statement giver was lonely. But the people affected by the Lonely choose to be lonely, and the statement giver didn’t. His boyfriend broke up with him because of cheating and then he lost his friends because they sided with his boyfriend. 

I think the theme of the statement is unreality, not loneliness. In the Magnus Archives, when someone gets marked by a power it is because they made some wrong choice. The choice the statement giver makes is to return to the place he found dead and soulless. He drives back to his ex-boyfriend to deliver the moose, rather than send it by mail. He specifically wants to meet his ex. Not an act of loneliness, quite the opposite. Also he is returning a moose that is angular and creepy, in other words it is unreal.

When the statement escapes from the nightmare it’s because he got a phone call from his ex. And he says “I love you.” and that fits neatly with the Lonely. But it also fits with escape from the unreal. He escapes because he communicates with a real person.

The road signs says “Road” and “Street”. Generic and unreal. All the houses look the same. Like in a computer game. The statement giver wonders if they are the same house. Like in a computer game where one might reuse the code for a house many times.

The house he enters has stock photos. Unreal.

The people on TV have something wrong with their eyes, similar to the eyes of the zombies in Zombie. And it's a fake cooking show, and a fake infomercial.

The dead woman upstairs was someone who had social media profiles, and that nobody notices had died. Meaning she lived her life online. That sounds like she was lonely. But living online also makes her a good victim for the Simulation. Everyone she talked to was on a computer, she couldn’t know for sure if they were real.

The woman had killed herself with a mirror. I think what happened was she had looked into the mirror and seen that her eyes were wrong, like the eyes of the people on TV. And she had thought she was just a simulation, like everything around her. And therefore she killed herself. Or perhaps she wasn’t reflected in the mirror at all? Like in…

Reflection. Adelard speculated that this statement was about the Extinction, but I don’t think so. The protagonist was in a world that seemed unreal. A fun fair is artificial so that fits the theme. The people were playing games, which fits the theme via computer games maybe.

Adelard says “I can’t quite get past the detail that there was no reflection at all in the mirror he used to return.” It is almost at the end of Adelard’s letter, it’s clearly meant to be significant. The no reflection might be symbolic for the statement giver starting to think he isn’t real, which might be what happened to him after he gave the statement.

Reflection has influence by the Spiral, with the maze of mirrors. There is influence by the Flesh, with the cannibalism.

[codedredalert]

no lead nor steel shall reach him so [Golden Kamuy, Ogata & Yuusaku] -- gen oneshot

Ogata character study || 1705 words

A good marksman could swear blind that he knew a good shot before his bullet left the barrel.

Ogata was a good shot. The moment he pulled the trigger on Yuusaku, he knew he'd made a mistake.

Warnings: canon-typical violence, character death, Ogata is messed up and regrets nothing, this is not a nice softe redemption story.

A/N: written for @narramin​ 

(On Ao3)

===/\===

.

      1.

Ogata knew the rumours.

Second Lieutenant Hanazawa Yuusaku is the eight virtues personified, they said. No wonder he was promoted so young. No wonder he had the honour of bearing the flag.

Perhaps Ogata knew the rumours best  because they were spoken carefully around him— whispers like prey rustling the grass, catching his attention whether he willed it or not.

He's  that Ogata's brother, they said. No, reliably came the disbelieving reply. Can't be, no way, you've got to be lying, is it true? It's true, the Second Lieutenant said so, though Ogata tries to keep it quiet. Ah, well it makes sense,  he's the bastard after all, isn't he? Hah, in more ways than one…

Sideways glances between himself and their vaunted officer, not nearly as discreet as the men of the 7th Division believed themselves to be.

Have you heard? asked First Lieutenant Tsurumi in a conspiratorial whisper when he had Ogata alone. They say the Second Lieutenant is very principled.

Yes, Ogata has heard.

Shall we see for ourselves? proposed the First Lieutenant, hand outstretched, an offer.

.

.

      一.

"Life is a long road."

Grandmother taught this to him in a voice that was light to mask the weight of wisdom in those heavy words. After Mother's death, Grandmother had never faltered in her duties though she grieved, going through the funeral proceedings with head held high, and seeing to Ogata's every need with reliability that Mother had never managed, though she had tried.

"The longer one's road grows, the more places to stumble, and for impurity to rest on the soul. With time, every person falls to the suffering of existence."

She used one of her wrinkled, gnarled hands to smooth back Ogata's clipped-short hair, soothing and pleasant.

"It is just the way life is," she said.

.

.

      2.

Ogata approached Yuusaku for the first time since the young officer had first called him brother, and the younger man lit up with such unadulterated delight that it sent a shudder of disgust down Ogata's spine.

He had to be faking. No one got that excited about a night out with their bastard half-brother. But as long as the Second Lieutenant wanted to play the good brother, that suited Ogata just fine.

Ogata led Yuusaku to the pleasure district, watching with amusement as the younger man's delight turned to discomfort, to embarrassment, to distress.

"Brother… I'm terribly sorry," he said, bowing. And he  sounded sorry too, as if it physically pained him to refuse Ogata's first tenuous offer of brotherhood. His sincerity grated, as did his refusal. In one move, Yuusaku had both undermined Ogata's objective, and plainly made the grave insult that— however much he claimed to want Ogata for an elder brother— Ogata's wants and ways were beneath him.

With the trap now useless, there was no choice but to let him go, and Yuusaku walked out of the establishment as free and upright as ever.

But Ogata could be patient. As the war went on— as the acrid gunpowder, piss, shit, and anguish seeped into them all— Yuusaku would stumble. Ogata just had to bide his time and try again, try better.

.

.

      二.

His mother was beautiful in death. She had hundreds of admirers from the peak of her career, and many a swooning painter had captured her likeness. A portrait of her had been gifted to them, and it smiled bright-eyed and gentle upon Ogata from the family altar as she never had in life.

"It doesn't look like her," he remarked, as he stood side by side with his grandmother and offered incense. He remembered his mother's back as she stood in the middle of a room for long stretches of time, silent and unmoving. Her profile, as she stared out the window, watching for a man who would never come.

The joss sticks burned down to ash, and Grandmother lifted her head from her prayers. She bowed and turned away, gesturing for him to follow. He followed suit.

"People see what they want to see," she said, once she had closed the door behind them. Grandmother was very different from Mother, in that way. She always paid attention to him, even if she was silent at first. He just had to be patient.

"Men wanted her beauty, so they took whichever parts of her they found beautiful and painted over all the other parts to suit their tastes. They did not know her character, the hardship she went through. The  geisha, the  maiko… they suffer greatly for their success. But it was our hope that she would have a good life, a better life than the one we could give her. Not..."

Heartache. Deep despair. The delusion that roused her from bed only to make the same dish, day after day: a desperate, futile offering to a love that didn't realise.

Ogata understood.

.

.

      3.

"Superior Private Ogata. It appears that Yuusaku is a more gallant soldier than we imagined. He's won over the hearts of all the other men."

Ogata let out the breath he'd been holding for his shot and lowered his rifle. He could read between the lines and take the orders the First Lieutenant preferred not to say explicitly. Plausible deniability and all that. It's why the First Lieutenant liked him.

"So you're saying we're better off not killing him, sir?" asked Ogata, reloading and already looking for his next target. He didn't need an answer. "Understood."

Ogata led Yuusaku wraithlike over the fields where gunfire and screaming had reigned earlier that day. The night was quiet but far from silent, the sighing of the wind an unearthly substitute for the dead and dying soldiers' groans. Yuusaku's boots scuffed the earth as he followed. He made enough noise that Ogata could have shot him at fifty yards, blindfolded.

"I want to see you kill him," Ogata said earnestly, pressing his knife into Yuusaku's hands. Yuusaku flinched and his eyes slid away, looking for escape, looking anywhere but Ogata's eyes, anywhere but the Russian soldier gagged and bound at their feet.

"Father said I have to keep my hands clean," Yuusaku begged off, as if the word 'Father' could invoke more authority than 'Lieutenant General' or 'martial law'. Ah, but Yuusaku was a beloved child, Ogata remembered, and this was him trying to appeal to the filial respect that Ogata never had the chance to develop for the man.  

Something must have shown on Ogata's face.

Yuusaku embraced him and Ogata's blood swarmed like locusts in his veins, eating him alive with irritating discontent and a curious, persistent thought.

.

.

     三.

Mother's death was Ogata's first. A lot of customs went with it, though Ogata didn't really see why. When everything was over, Grandmother paid a priest to come bless the family and sprinkle salt at him.

"It's for your own good. Death is an unclean thing, we don't want its shadow over you," Grandmother explained when Ogata grumbled about some of it getting it into his eye. Her voice wavered ever so slightly, as she smoothed the front of her kimono. "Remember to do this after I've passed."

Ogata buried her the year he was conscripted. He didn't get the priest afterwards. There wasn't much point, on the way to a war.

.

.

      4.

It was so easy to find Yuusaku on the field, even in the chaos.

Gallant Yuusaku, leading the throng of soldiers eager to kill and die for the emperor and their nation. Ogata could frame them in his rifle sight like a painter drafting a standing screen. Yuusaku, marked by the rising sun.

It was so easy that it was a wonder how the enemy snipers hadn't gotten him first. The waving flag begged to be targeted. Did the Russians dismiss him for having no gun? For never drawing his unblooded sabre?

It was so easy to line up the shot.

What would happen if— ?

Ogata pulled the trigger.

.

.

      四.

Birds scattered as he missed, taking to the peach-pink sky above the fields behind the family house in Ibaraki. Ogata took aim for his second shot, but the timing was already so far off that there was no point. He lowered his grandfather's rifle instead of wasting another bullet.

He'd been over-eager, moving too much, and too fast. The light was gone now, and he would have to return home empty-handed.

.

.

      5.

Yuusuke's distant silhouette crumpled. His corpse joined the hundreds of bodies on the battlefield, lost in the chaos of the regiment as he went down, the bright white and red and gold tasselled flag falling slowly after him before it too disappeared from sight. Ogata lowered his rifle with a strange sense of frustration and ran his hand through his regulation cropped-short hair.

There was a strange absence of something he thought would be there, and with that... Disappointment. Profound disappointment. Like the shot when he was a child in the fields behind the family house in Ibaraki and learning to hunt, the birds scattering as he missed.

Yuusaku crowned by the sun, beloved.

He'd been overeager and now gallant Yuusaku would be forever gallant, forever pure. The impurity of death didn't seem to stick, and now Yuusaku was an immortal nuisance and Ogata still had no answer to the discontent crawling on his back.

Ogata's hand clenched on the butt of his rifle, white-knuckled with cold. This was the first time he felt  bad when he'd made his shot, bereft of something out of reach, which could have been his but never would. It was a pricking irritation similar to missing a shot. Even though he hadn't.

There were no answers here. There were no answers in the dead. Not in his mother, not in his grandmother, not in this man who called him brother.

Ogata turned and First Lieutenant Tsurumi was there. The First Lieutenant smiled in understanding and nodded in approval, as if knowing Ogata's thoughts before Ogata himself.

The father who only had enough love to raise one virtuous son. Yes, Ogata could just ask him directly. There was no point thinking about Yuusaku any longer.

Yuusaku was dead. That was the end of it. Ogata couldn't reach him anymore.

Time to turn to the living.

===/END\===

(On Ao3)  ( patreon ) ( kofi ) ( paypal )

[readyourimgaines]

Age Doesn’t Mean Much

Summary: Five times the BAU remembered Reid’s younger than them plus one time they were violently reminded he’s not a child. 

Spoiler/Trigger Warning: The entire ending of the second season’s 15th episode: Revelations. 

Dr. Spencer Reid was merely 21 when SSA Jason Gideon convinced him to join the BAU. With the exception of Aaron Hotchner (who had also read the young doctor’s file) the team wasn’t sure how to feel about the inexperienced man. 

Other than giving a pointer or two to a professor lecturing on a cold case, Reid had no experience working in the field. The others figured that was why the poor kid pushed himself so hard: to prove himself. 

Right after the first case, Elle stopped talking down to him. Half way through the same case, Morgan decided he’d taken the doctor under his wing. JJ was the first of Hotch’s subordinates to warm up to Reid. Their friendship was an awkward one for a couple of days. To an outsider, it looked as though a childhood friend was trying to help the other through a bout of amnesia. 

Though the team never again questioned Reid’s ability on the field, there were times when they were suddenly reminded of Reid’s age. 

1: Trying to Balance on a Curb While Walking

Hotch lost count of how many times Jack would walk on the curb, one foot in the front of the other, both arms outstretched for extra balance. Almost always, one of Jack’s hands would be firmly holding one of his father’s. SSA Hotchner almost laughed at himself when he nearly held Reid’s hand on instinct. 

Reid and Hotch were walking alone to get lunch for the unit while between cases back home. They’d been walking side-by-side while Reid babbled happily about the last book he finished. Hotch contently listened, his mind occasionally wondering. 

Hotch’s mind was pulled back to reality from one of its wonderings when his hand had brushed against Reid’s. The doctor’s hand quickly formed into a fist as he concentrated on his balance, his lips pressed tightly together. While Jack had his arms stretched straight out, Reid held his at more of a slant. 

One thing Hotch quickly noticed, and was surprised the scientifically minded doctor missed, was that Reid’s ever present satchel was throwing him off balance. 

“Reid.”

“Hm?”

“Let me hold onto your bag.” Hotch held his hand out to take the leather bag.

“Why?” Reid’s foot touched down on the road as he lost balance now that he was doing more with his brain than focussing on his footing. 

“It's a hypothesis.” Hotch smirked but Reid missed it, not taking his eyes off his sneakers. 

Carefully, as not to fall, Reid removed his satchel and held it out, blindly, for Hotch to take. The older agent held it by the shorted of the two handles as he continued to walk alongside Reid. 

Hotch chuckled to himself upon seeing the look on Reid’s face. The young doctor was looking at his feet, almost in awe. He hadn’t needed to touch down since Hotch took the bag half a block back. 

Once he walked two blocks on the curb- without losing balance- Reid was content and took his bag back, putting it back over his shoulder so the pouch of it bounced against the opposite hip.

“Did you know the position of an object’s center of gravity affects its stability? The higher the center of gravity is, the easier it is for the object to fall. That’s why a small boat- like a kayak or canoe- is less likely to tip if the occupants are seated lower in the boat. 

“Textbooks usually demonstrate this with either a bus and or two cars of different heights and lengths…” 

2: Mismatched Socks

One of the first things Emily Prentiss noticed about Reid were his mismatched socks. Of course, the other BAU members noticed it too, but they never questioned it. It’s just part of who Reid was. Curiosity got the better of SSA Prentiss. 

“Reid?” 

The doctor looked up from his case file. “Yeah?”

“Why do you never wear matched socks?” She looked down at Reid’s ankles and he followed her gaze. One lavender sock, one pink with blue stripes. 

“My uh- When I was a kid, my mom would tell me it was bad luck to wear matching socks.” Reid pulled the lavender sock back up to where it should be. 

“That doesn’t sound like something that could be scientifically verified.” A slight smirk spread across Emily’s face. 

Reid huffed slightly. “The night I was taken by Tobias… It was the first time I wore matching socks in five years. Burgundy with orange stripes.” Reid blinked heavily, clenching his eyes shut. “I don’t wear socks if they match.” He paused again. “Besides, matching socks are boring. Some people say socks should be a shade darker than their pants or a shade lighter than the shoes- Hotch does the former.

“Also, 82% of men in my age bracket wear mismatched socks at least once a week because we keep losing one of a pair. And a family of four- on average- loses 60 socks a year.” 

3: Playing With Jell-O

Reid loved Jell-O. No-one was really sure why, but didn’t ask, either. Everyone had their favorite dessert, so maybe Jell-O was just his? He liked cake, sure, but he didn’t eat it nearly as often as he ate Jell-O. 

On jet rides back home, no-one ever knew what conversations were bound to come up. This week’s was what the team was going to do with a three day weekend and morphed into best desserts. 

“What about you, Reid?” Prentiss drew Reid from his train of thought.

“Hm?”

“You like Jell-O, don’t you, Pretty Boy?” Morgan checked.

“Yeah.”

“Not even Henry likes Jell-O,” JJ smiled at the thought of her young son. 

“It doesn’t have much of a taste,” Rossi added. 

“I think that’s part of why I like it, actually.” Reid fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. 

“Because it tastes like watered down Kool-Aid?” Rossi frowned.

“Yeah. All the other foods are so strong and Jell-O’s not. It’s cool, but not cold, and it’s fun to play with.”

A ghost of a smile danced across Hotch’s face. “Jack likes playing with it. He gets sad when I don’t buy finger Jell-O on accident.” 

“That’s the only kind I buy.” Reid nodded. “The red is my least favorite- It takes like Red 40.” 

“What is your favorite kind, then?” Rossi couldn’t help but ask. 

“Pineapple. Minimal amounts of dyes and you can see through it.”

“No numbers about Jell-O?” Prentiss challenged with a grin.

JJ, Hotch, and Morgan all smiled while Rossi teasily groaned. The groan got a smile from Reid too. 

“Actually, in the US, the Jell-O brand is recognized- by name and product- by 99% of the populous.” Spencer chortled. “That means that if you got a group of 100 people together, only one person would have no idea what Jell-O is.”  

4: Doodles on Everything

Dr. Spencer Reid didn’t always carry his leather satchel with him. Hotch more or less ordered him to get a notebook he could keep in a pocket. The unit chief didn’t care if Reid drew on his arms. The unit chief cared when Reid jotted down notions or points for the running case.

Garcia loved Reid’s little doodles and had a decently sized collection. She referred to him as a “chronic doodler”. The analysis tech found it almost funny that someone as brilliant and talented as Reid had so little artistic skill outside of his geographic profiling maps. 

Reid knew full well that Garcia collected his doodles. After a particularly stressful case- which always resulted in more doodles, Reid would sign and dare the flip book page before tearing it out and leaving it in Garcia’s bunker. 

There were times when Reid would doodle on his arm rather than the flip book simple because it was more convenient. That didn’t mean Garcia didn’t see those ones. No, no, no. These ones, Reid would take pictures of and send to Garcia when a case was getting to her.

Morgan talked to Garcia more than anyone else on a case. Whether or not Penelope voiced her unease, Morgan- ever the profiler- could tell. He’d have Reid a certain look and the younger man would send Garcia texts of his doodles- evenly spaced- throughout the case. If he did the math and found he didn’t have enough, nothing stopped him from drawing a couple more. 

Hotch and Gideon thought of the times their sons would draw a picture or make them a card when they had a bad day at work. Morgan was reminded of the beaded bracelets his sisters used to make him when he was injured in football or his team lost a game. 

The one hitch with their theory? Garcia was the one person who got to keep the drawings. Not even Reid kept them. She knew this fact and gloated about it to the team whenever she got a new one. All of her computer screens in her bunker had a different doodle as the screen saver. 

5: Dependent on the Team

For the most part, the BAU stuck to themselves after hours if they weren’t going out for drinks. Reid was the one exception and the rest of the team found they didn’t mind. 

JJ was the first one he texted. The message was a simple worded question: How can you tell the difference between romantic feelings and transference? The gentle blonde took it upon herself to explain to the doctor that he’d know when he was in love because how being near the person or even just thinking about them made him feel. 

The media liaison assumed she’d never really see the person Reid texted her about that Sunday evening. She was a little less than shocked to see the light in the young doctor’s eyes shift when Morgan wandered into the bullpen Monday morning.  

A month passed before JJ got a message along the lines of the one she was expecting: Reid asking for advice on how to ask someone out. How to better the wording, how to keep from straying off the point. 

The next day, he texted Elle about flowers: I have a date next weekend. Are flowers too forward?

Elle smiled down at her phone, at Reid’s innocence. She told him that flowers were a nice and caring gesture, but that he’d want to be careful with what flowers he got because different flowers sent different messages. 

This was the first of this Reid was hearing. He thanked Elle and thought more. Hotch was married. He must know a decent amount about flowers and such romantic ideas, right? So he texted Hotch: Do you know anything about flower symbolism? Elle says flowers have different messages to them.

Hotch chuckled, getting Haley’s attention.

“What’s so funny?”

“Do you remember Dr. Spencer Reid?” Hotch looked at the blonde. 

“He’s the shy, Autistic boy, right?” Haley glanced up from feeding Jack.

“Yeah. He’s nervous about an upcoming date and texted to see if I know anything about flowers.” Hotch’s thumb was dancing across the flip-phone’s buttons.

“What are you telling him?”

“That roses have the highest chance of getting him in his date’s bed. Pink camellias and carnations are signs of love and longing; ivy means friendship.” Hotch typed this by naming the flowers, placing an equal sign, and the meaning. 

“Do you know who his date is?”

“Not as far as Reid and his date are concerned.”

So yes, he did.

Friday morning- the morning before his date- Reid sat by himself on the jet ride home, trying to read a book he brought. He couldn’t focus on it for the life of him. He’d been staring at the same page for then minutes. He jumped a little when Gideon sat down across from him.

“What has you so nervous?”

“Noth-” Reid stopped short. That wasn’t the right word; the date meant everything to him. “I uh… I have a date tomorrow evening and I’m worried, I guess. I’ve never actually been on a date, but I really like this person.”

“Okay. So what about it has you worked up?” Gideon’s eyes were gentle and fatherly.

Reid thought about how to answer the question. “We’ve been friends for a while and I don’t- I don’t want to mess up so badly that he doesn’t want to be friends-” Reid froze, his eyes wide. “G-Gideon, I-”

“There’s nothing wrong.” The older man squeezed the younger’s shoulder. “If your friend know you as well as you know him, I think it’s safe to say he’s not too worried about the friendship failing. Sometimes, Reid, you have to take a leap of faith.”

+One: “I choose...Aaron Hotchner.”

“Choose, and prove you’ll do God’s will.”

“No.”

Click. “Choose.”

“I won’t do it.”

Click. “Choose.”

“I...I choose...Aaron Hotchner. He’s a classic narcissist. He thinks he’s better than everyone else on the team. Genesis 23:4, “Let him not deceive himself and trust in emptiness, vanity, falseness, and futility, for these shall be his recompense.” 

Bang. Raphael took a bullet from Tobais’ pocket and held it up, showing it to Reid. “For God’s will.”

Morgan’s heart shattered at seeing his boyfriend crouched over the body of his captor and tormentor. The side of Reid’s head was coated in dry blood, he was avoiding putting weight on his sock-less foot.

Reid limped his way over to Hotch and hesitantly put a hand on his superior’s arm as though he wasn’t sure the man was there. The young man quickly and tightly hugged Hotch.

“I knew you’d understand.”

JJ was the next to hug Reid, the doctor losing his balance slightly and the liaison easily caught him. 

“I am so sorry.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

The second JJ let go of Reid, Morgan stepped forward and pulled Reid into as tight of a hug as he dared. He needed to feel his boyfriend in his arms but he’d seen the same video as everyone else and didn’t want to hurt him more. 

Prentiss was shocked and looked at JJ with wide eyes when Morgan kissed Reid and the doctor eagerly reciprocated. The blonde just smiled.

*****

@stxrryspencer​ @chaoticgremlinwholikescheese​ @the-need-for-reid-speed​ 

[beybladefanboy]

Top 5 Favourite Beyblade Characters

Random and unasked for but I figured I would talk about my favourite characters in the Beyblade Metal Saga.

#5 A tie between Chris and Hikaru

Chris

I’m putting these two in the same spot because I wanted both of them to be on this list and a “top 6” doesn’t have as good of a ring to it as a “top 5.” Anyways, the first time I watched Metal Fury, I didn’t care much about Chris. Now however, I find his arc of being stuck in a job that brings him no joy to be incredibly relatable. His lack of passion for Beyblade makes complete sense: the fun of the sport was completely sucked out when it became an obligation for him and he wasn’t allowed to fight for himself. He was completely obligated to his employer and had little choice in the matter. That would suck away anyone’s passion, trust me, I know. So seeing the light return to his eyes as he rediscovered his passion for Beyblading was incredibly satisfying.

Hikaru

A lot of the appeal of Hikaru is admittedly that she is a female blader, and yeah, it is great having a strong female character. (We need more of those) What’s great about Hikaru however is that she isn’t just a token girl character or a mary sue: she is treated the same as any other blader and is allowed to fail and feel emotions without being degraded. I like that we even see a bit of her backstory where we learn that she is driven to be the best blader because of her likely deceased mother’s words. It’s a shame that she quit Beyblade due to her trauma but I also think it’s understandable and that it was interesting to explore that trauma. The moment that broke my heart rewatching Metal Masters was when Hikaru sees Dark Tsubasa and is paralyzed by terror, clearly remembering what Ryuga did to her. Beyblade’s most powerful scenes to me are the ones that delve into a character’s mind and allows me to see their thoughts and feelings. It allows me to understand and be more attached to the character and we got a lot of that from Hikaru and Chris.

#4 Yuki

Yuki is kind of underrated in my opinion but then again, so is the entirety of Metal Fury. Yuki was a really fresh character for the series. Nearly every character is extremely reckless: acting first, thinking later so it was really refreshing to see a character who overthinks everything to the point of anxiety. I just relate more to a character that doubts himself and has to fight to overcome not just the great evil but his own self-doubt and fear as well. Also, I love that scene where he fights Ryuga. He probably knows he doesn’t stand a chance against a guy like him but he doesn’t care because he’s fighting for his friends. I can relate to that. When I’m just doing something for myself, I tend to doubt and question myself but when I’m standing up for my friends, I show no mercy. So yeah, Yuki is a really relatable character, as well as a pure cinnamon roll that needs more love.

#3 Kyoya

If you asked who my favourite Beyblade character was two and half years ago, I would’ve answered “Kyoya” without any hesitation. While I do still really like him, I think his character was kind of fumbled in Metal Fury. I’ll talk about that separately though because I want this to be a positive post. Still, Kyoya is a great character. I like how he develops from a villain to that one liner asshole friend of Gingka’s. While I do like him unironically, Kyoya is honestly just funny to me. He is so ridiculously arrogant about his own skills but he actually is as good as he says he is. He’s also a tsundere. He’s absolutely a tsundere. He’s always helping his friends with whatever bullshit they’re doing: helping them infiltrate the Dark Nebula, going to look for Gingka when he disappears, helping them infiltrate Hades city, going with them to look for the Legendary Bladers, and on two separate occasions, staying behind to fight someone so the others can go forward. Even his determination to beat Gingka feels more like friendly competition than actual malice. And yet he insists he doesn’t care about them with lines like, “It’s not like I came to save you or anything.” It’s honestly kind of majestic. He’s also a complete badass. He always gets back up after a loss and fights to the bitter end and, sometimes to the detriment of himself but never his Beyblade. When Leone was on the verge of breaking to pieces in The Fearsome Libra, he forfeited the match to stop that from happening, risking humiliation and accepting defeat to do the right thing. That is genuinely admirable. It takes courage to fight but even more courage to admit defeat. Also, his fight against Ryuga in Metal Fusion is insane. Kyoya nearly falls so many times but keeps himself on his feet and rises up again. It takes being stabbed in the heart by the dark power for Kyoya to be defeated. Out of everyone, Kyoya came the closest to defeating Ryuga through sheer will and determination alone. What a badass.

#2 Tsubasa

Similar to Yuki, Tsubasa is also a pretty unique character for this series. While he is passionate about fighting like all the others, Tsubasa is much more thoughtful and cool-headed, which is appealing especially among a cast of hot-headed crazy characters. When Tsubasa is first introduced, he’s kind of a mystery. We don’t know his true intentions or alignment until we learn that he was working for the WVBA, about 15 episodes after his initial introduction. This unpredictability made him interesting to watch in Metal Fusion as I didn’t know what he was going to do next. Then in Metal Masters, he becomes even more interesting. While it was emotionally intense to watch, I think the “Dark Tsubasa” arc is one of this series’ greatest achievements. It revealed a completely new layer of personality to Tsubasa and gave him so much development. 

While he was being somewhat controlled by the dark power, it is made clear through the dialogue that that side of him was always there and the dark power just enhanced and unmasked it. He did often hide his true emotions and intentions in Metal Fusion after all. The scenes where Tsubasa interacts with his dark self are very interesting and relatable to me because I often try to hide my negative emotions and avoid situations where they might come out until those feelings fester into madness, which is essentially what Tsubasa did. However, the resolution to this arc is what makes it so special to me. Tsubasa doesn’t drive out the darkness or continue to repress it: he accepts the darkness as part of who he is because everyone has darkness in them and the way to control it is to become one with it. And in the end, he becomes a stronger blader and person as a result of this arc. This is legitimately inspiring and helpful to me. It’s important to remember that we are not defined by our worst thoughts/feelings, we are defined by how we handle them and accepting ourselves, flaws and all, is important. So really that arc alone makes Tsubasa one of my favourite characters but he also has an appealing personality as well. It’s a shame he was kind of underused in Metal Fury but I love what we got from him.

#1 Ryuga

Yeah, okay, this was obvious. Take one look at my feed or even my profile picture and you could probably guess that I love Ryuga. Two and a half years ago, I hated him with a passion but after rewatching the show again, I realized I only really hated him because of what he did to Hikaru, Tsubasa, and Kyoya which yes was horrible and I don’t condone it in any way but he was under the influence of the dark power at that point and he never does anything quite that awful again. Anyways, onto the positives. Ryuga in Metal Fusion is the best villain the show ever had. He poses a significant threat and was the first person to legitimately defeat Gingka. He’s also a terrifying sadist that cackles at others’ pain. If Ryuga had stayed like that, I would probably still like him as a character but I certainly wouldn’t have developed a crush. Damn, that would’ve been nice. But alas, even in Metal Fusion, Ryuga is somewhat sympathetic when you remember that he is just a kid and was both used by Doji and not even in full control of himself because of the dark power. He is seen trying to resist its control in the final battle after all. It’s interesting to see a character who is literally corrupted by the power he sought out and actually does learn from his mistake. In Metal Masters, he realized that humans’ greed and hatred was what caused the dark power to be so harmful and decided to draw the power from its original source, before it was tainted by humans, and became super powerful. Even if you hate Ryuga, you have to admit that is awesome. And once he stopped being a sadistic villain, he became much more unpredictable as sometimes he would even help the main heroes in Metal Masters, albeit for selfish reasons. Ryuga sort of feels like a combination of traits I liked most in Tsubasa and Kyoya. He has the unpredictability and loner attitude of Tsubasa and the confidence and determination of Kyoya. Also, I don’t think I need to say that Ryuga is a badass. That’s not even an opinion: it’s something that we all know to be a fact. I mean, this is the guy who launched his Beyblade at a floating city, wrecking it enough to send it crashing into the water and causing a reactor meltdown that nearly destroyed the earth. That last part was unintentional and in all fairness, he did help stop the end of the world, but still, he is both powerful and reckless enough to do something like that. He was kind of frustrating in Metal Fury but I did like his friendship with Kenta and while his blind pursuit of power was annoying, I gotta admire the ambition. And… yeah, I cried at his death. I cried harder at that than anything else in this show at any other point I watched it, including when I was a kid even though I knew it was coming. Even though his motivations for fighting Nemesis were far from righteous, he still died trying to defeat the great evil and his final act was giving Kenta the star fragment to give the heroes the chance they needed to win. Ryuga died a hero, plain and simple. I wish he had lived so we could see him develop even more after that moment but either way, Ryuga is a great character. He’s the best villain in season one and I love his fiery personality and aesthetic in the following seasons.

[sonofaraven]

check-in tag

vera tagged me! @dependsonwhospitching hii i will indulge u a bit

1. why did you choose your url?

Its a ref to all the media w crows that i liked back in the day, we’re talking classic tmblr ya lit... the foxhole court and the raven cycle.. also it was my sports anime era (karasuno). its mainly about ronan tho (son of a bitch + raven). i dont rlly wanna give it up.. also corvids r pretty

2. any side-blogs? if you have them, name them and why you have them.

this is my only side blog, n the one i use the most since im chronically online, i have a main obv but its a secret xoxo ( you have to go tru the trials and tribulations of figuring it out by yourself )

3. how long have you been on tumblr?

maybe since 2015? i made this one around 2016

4. do you have a queue tag?

i dont tag it but i have a queue n also i schedule posts randomly

5. why did you start your blog in the first place?

i wanted to keep most of my obsessions apart from my main, especially the anime posts

6. why did you choose your icon/pfp?

it’s from my “i know the end” zayn comic, its pretty vague at the same time, i think i dont exactly wanna define myself as a 1d blog even tho i am rn, but hey i try to draw. smtimes

7. why did you choose your header?

fun story, to me. i chose it as an aes pic ages ago. i rlly like those tones n i matched them to my blog color. it was a couple years later when i realized it was from a ts 1989 shoot n now im a swiftie, so it stays

8. what’s your post with the most notes?

probably a fanart post from ages ago (probably from m*rvel) or that meme i made ( +ty for being best friends. -we literally never interact ) that every1 hated but loved to rb n i deleted after a bit

9. how many mutuals do you have?

that i “kind of” talk to, like 10 :)

10. how many followers do you have?

just a bunch, keeping a low profile on tumblr dot com

11. how many people do you follow?

444 (lots are artists pages or only post once a month or are inactive)

12. have you ever made a shitpost?

“a relationship should be 50/50. im a thief and you call me a thief.” but not often not.

13. how often do you use tumblr each day?

mental illness

14. did you have a fight/argument with another blog once? who won?

i dont have fights, no body has a problem w me n im always right anyway

15. how do you feel about “you need to reblog this” posts?

hate. but i get where some of them r coming from sometimes

16. do you like tag games?

yes<3 even if i dont do them its like getting a little hi and a heart emoji from a mutual  whats not to like

17. do you like ask games?

i like the free compliments ones and i like sending them numbers, i dont often like answering questions tho

18. which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

evryone of them is more famous than me  peace and love

19. do you have a crush on a mutual?

yes but you dont know them. they go to another Blogging platform

20. tags?

not today. do it if u like, tell em i sent u ⭐

[pop-punklouis]

hi hope! i saw that you’re really big into film and tv. do you have any tv shows you could rec? i need something new to watch.

hiya grey! and of course. i always have tv shows on hand to rec

• Dark (3 Seasons)

When two children go missing in a small German town, its sinful past is exposed along with the double lives and fractured relationships that exist among four families as they search for the kids. The mystery-drama series introduces an intricate puzzle filled with twists that includes a web of curious characters, all of whom have a connection to the town's troubled history -- whether they know it or not. The story includes supernatural elements that tie back to the same town in 1986.

• Portlandia (8 Seasons)

this absurdist series set in Portland, Ore., that gently pokes fun at the laid-back Pacific Northwest city and the many eccentric characters that call it home. Among the many recurring guest stars on the series are Ed Begley Jr., Jeff Goldblum, Natasha Lyonne, Kumail Nanjiani and Kyle MacLachlan, who plays Portlandia's mayor.

• Parfum (limited series)

When a woman is found murdered with scent glands excised from her body, a detective probes a group of friends who attended boarding school with her.

• Trinkets (2 Seasons)

A grieving teenager finds an unexpected connection with two classmates at her new high school when they all land in the same Shoplifters Anonymous group.

• Fleabag (2 Seasons)

A dry-witted woman, known only as Fleabag, has no filter as she navigates life and love in London while trying to cope with tragedy. The angry, grief-riddled woman tries to heal while rejecting anyone who tries to help her, but Fleabag continues to keep up her bravado through it all.

• I Know This Much is True (limited series)

Middle-aged Dominick Birdsey recounts his troubled relationship with Thomas, his paranoid schizophrenic twin brother, and his efforts to get him released from an asylum. (Mark Ruffalo’s best performance to date)

• The Vow (limited series)

Following the experiences of people deeply involved in the self-improvement group NXIVM, an organization under siege with charges including sex trafficking and racketeering conspiracy brought against its highest members and founder Keith Raniere

• The Outsider (limited series)

Based on Stephen King's best-selling novel of the same name, "The Outsider" begins by following an investigation which at first seems like it will be simple and straightforward but things change as it leads into the gruesome murder of a young boy by a seasoned cop. When an insidious supernatural force edges its way into the case, it leads the investigators to question everything they believe in.

• Peaky Blinders (5 Seasons)

Britain is a mixture of despair and hedonism in 1919 in the aftermath of the Great War. Returning soldiers, newly minted revolutions and criminal gangs are fighting for survival in a nation rocked by economic upheaval. One of the most powerful gangs of the time is the Peaky Blinders, run by returning war hero Thomas Shelby and his family. But Thomas has bigger ambitions than just running the streets. When a crate of guns goes missing, he recognizes an opportunity to advance in the world because crime may pay but legitimate business pays better. Trying to rid Britain of its crime is Inspector Chester Campbell, who arrives from Belfast to try to achieve that goal.

• Schitts Creek (6 Seasons)

a wealthy couple -- video store magnate Johnny and his soap opera star wife Moira -- suddenly find themselves completely broke. With only one remaining asset, a small town called Schitt's Creek, which the Roses bought years earlier as a joke, this once-wealthy couple must give up life as they know it. With their two spoiled children in tow and their pampered lives behind them, the Rose family is forced to face their newfound poverty head-on and come together as a family to survive.

• Mindhunter (2 Seasons)

Catching a criminal often requires the authorities to get inside the villain's mind to figure out how he thinks. That's the job of FBI agents Holden Ford and Bill Tench. They attempt to understand and catch serial killers by studying their damaged psyches. Along the way, the agents pioneer the development of modern serial-killer profiling.

• Mr. Robot (4 Seasons)

Young, anti-social computer programmer Elliot works as a cybersecurity engineer during the day, but at night he is a vigilante hacker. He is recruited by the mysterious leader of an underground group of hackers to join their organization. Elliot's task? Help bring down corporate America, including the company he is paid to protect, which presents him with a moral dilemma. Although he works for a corporation, his personal beliefs make it hard to resist the urge to take down the heads of multinational companies that he believes are running -- and ruining -- the world.

• Dark Tourist (1 Season)

Journalist David Farrier focuses on that area of travel, known as dark tourism, in this docuseries. In each episode, Farrier travels to a different locale to visit destinations and have experiences that wouldn't be on most vacationers' bucket lists. He embeds himself in a death-worshipping cult in Mexico, sees tourists soaking up radiation left behind in Fukushima, meets vampires in New Orleans, and travels to the most-nuked place on Earth for atomic swimming and fishing.

• Maniac (Limited Series)

Annie Landsberg and Owen Milgrim are two strangers who are drawn to the late stages of a mysterious pharmaceutical trial. Each has a different reason for participating in the experiment -- she is disaffected and aimless, fixated on broken relationships with her mother and sister, while he has struggled throughout his life with a disputed diagnosis of schizophrenia. The radical treatment, using pills that the inventor claims can repair anything about the mind, draws Annie, Owen and 10 other subjects into a three-day drug trial that they're told will permanently solve all of their problems, with no complications or side effects. Unfortunately, things don't go as planned.

• The Witcher (2 Seasons)

The witcher Geralt, a mutated monster hunter, struggles to find his place in a world where people often prove more wicked than beasts.

• Living with Yourself (Limited Series)

A man who's burned out on life and love undergoes a mysterious treatment, only to find that he's been replaced by a better version of himself.

• The Society (cancelled after one season unfortunately)

The Society follows a group of teenagers who are mysteriously transported to a facsimile of their wealthy New England town, left without any trace of their parents. As they struggle to figure out what has happened to them and how to get home, they must establish order and form alliances if they want to survive. The series is a modern take on Lord of the Flies.

• I Am Not Okay With This (1 Season)

I Am Not Okay With This is an irreverent origin story that follows a teenage girl who's navigating the trials and tribulations of high school, all while dealing with the complexities of her family, her budding sexuality, and mysterious superpowers just beginning to awaken deep within her.

• The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance (1 Season)

The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance returns to the world of Thra with an all new adventure. When three Gelfling discover the horrifying secret behind the Skeksis' power, they set out on an epic journey to ignite the fires of rebellion and save their world.

• Grace and Frankie (6 Seasons)

Two nemeses become bonded jilted wives after their husbands reveal they have been having an affair with each other since the 1990s and now plan to get married.

• Special (1 Season)

A young gay man with cerebral palsy branches out from his insular existence in hopes of finally going after the life he wants.

• Russian Doll (1 Season)

Russian Doll follows a young woman named Nadia (Natasha Lyonne) on her journey as the guest of honor at a seemingly inescapable party one night in New York City.

• American Vandal (2 Seasons)

American Vandal is a half-hour true-crime satire that explores the aftermath of a costly high school prank that left twenty-seven faculty cars vandalized with phallic images. Over the course of the eight-episode season, an aspiring sophomore documentarian investigates the controversial and potentially unjust expulsion of troubled senior (and known dick-drawer) Dylan Maxwell. Not unlike its now iconic true-crime predecessors, the addictive American Vandal will leave one question on everyone's minds until the very end: Who drew the dicks?

• Immigration Nation (1 Season)

A rare and expansive look into the consequences of unfettered power, Immigration Nation is a powerful, harrowing indictment of the current state of American immigration.

[wullu]

I’m fairly certain I have said this before, but Imma say it once again.

One of the things that sets Flower of Evil apart from other dramas (in addition to exploring a romantic relationship thru the lense of serial killers and shadows of the past) is the way the drama is a culmination of many different stories and characters. 

In most kdramas, other than the leads (and sometimes not even the female lead) the remaining cast of characters do not get to be fully fleshed out people. They are often the salad dressing. If you took them out, the story wouldn’t suffer for the lack of them. I mean, even second leads so often are characterized as one-note characters! 

Flower of Evil subverts that by having everyone play an important role and fleshing them out as much as possible with the 16-episode format. Nobody here is salad dressing, tho I could do without Baek Hee Seong, but I suppose every garden of paradise has its serpent and in FOE it’s him and Yeom Sang Chul.

The plot is centered around Ji Won and Hyun Soo but so many other characters play a role in helping the story move forward. In short, I really love the focus this drama has on the little things. Stories are often made richer by focusing on the little things and allowing characters, be they lead or supporting, to be whole. My understanding of most of the main players in the plot and their fleshed out character profiles are under the cut. Please note, there will be spoilers!

I’m gonna list them out for clarity:

1. Jeong Mi Sook trying to prevent Hyun Soo from making an irreversible decision and trying to explain his side to Ji Won or even deciding, she’s the one who will break out of her cage. Hee Seong has been terrifying her from the start but she asked him to run, because he wasn’t worth being killed by Hyun Soo. He deserved to pay for his crimes instead.

2. Woo Chul deciding that his superiors need to only know this much and feeling terrified at what the new revelations imply for them, but even after he finds out, his priority is making sure his team members are safe. He may not always purchase coffee for everyone. But when push comes to shove, he’s shows what his priorities actually are. His team 😭

3. Eun Ha recognising the danger she is in and locking the door and only opening when her mom came. Eun Ha being a transparently affectionate child and when Hae Soo sees her photos and meets her, it’s like finding some lost vulnerable part of her self. Nothing like the unconditional acceptance of children that can undo you real quick.

4. The Baeks realising that in their quest to protect their son, they became people they never wanted to be. And that they were blinding themselves from the start. Mi Ja wondering if she’s doing the right thing all throughout, Man Woo losing more and more of his patience as he tries to clean up behind Hee Seong and both of them realizing, once you go down a dark path, it’s very hard to return. And also, that the outcome they were hoping to prevent was inevitable any way.

5. Jae Seob knowing something is off and following it up, and wanting to protect Ji Won at all costs. Also him and Woo Chul having an antagonistic but trustworthy relationship and him also mentoring Ho Joon and stating how people find him difficult to like, but that does not stop him from being himself. Jae Seob is a man committed to uncovering things, no matter how uncomfortable they feel or what secrets they reveal. That jokey personality is a layered over a determined and strongly principled character.

6. Ho Joon handling the more difficult aspects of being a cop by learning to take lives if need be, dealing with the aftermath of a crime scene and keeping his cool in the midst of chaos. I mean, at first he seems like such an innocent and well-meaning character who adores both of his Sunbaes and then as the story moves on, you see theres so much more to him than just being the maknae of the team. Whether it is calming down Ji Won after their fast and furious ride or having the foresight to turns on the camera monitor or even deciding to put out the news that Ji Won is dead, Joo Hwan shows himself as such a capable and conscientious person.

7. Hae Soo trying to amend wrongs and dealing with the guilt of her father’s crimes and realizing that it’s very hard to do things by yourself but also bravery is something that does not always happen in front of everyone, rather it’s that moment of iron clad surety you have when you know exact what you want to do, and to go ahead and do it.

8. Moo Jin making the choice to take off the rose tinted glasses and realizes he needs to see things for what they are. And realizing that you can’t just pick up things from where you left there. You have to realise how you behaved and own up to who you really are. Also, you really got to understand how to communicate with the girl you love, instead of just harping on asking her to ditch her brother, once more! 🙄

9. Hee Seong being a stuttering, scared mess once he realizes that he’s at the mercy of Hyun Soo and showing that under all his swagger and bravado, he’s just a cowardly man who enjoys exercising power over others and uses fear to control them, but cannot handle the heat when it is turned on them. He thinks he’s amazing because he’s so powerful and in charge, but all it is takes is one person to stand up to him and he loses composure so quick.

10. Yeom Sang Chul doing his best to save his own ass, and he’s so over taken by greed that it becomes his very undoing. He really has no redeeming qualities and without henchmen or money, he’s pretty much useless. Fitting that he dies without all the trappings of grandeur around him.

11. Even Park Kyung Choon, he’s so far gone with the desperation of looking for his wife but once he’s subdued, and in the hospital, he’s able to have a proper conversation with Hyun Soo. A remorseful, regretful one.

12. The housekeeper, Park Soon Young, she’s seen so much and she’s been thru so much and the Baeks have helped her, but at the same time, she realises she does not want to be a part of this household where so much evil is being perpetuated. She makes the decision to leave and she draws her own conclusions. Nothing is fed to her.

I mean, I could  go on a bit longer but yeah, I hope I made my point. In conclusion, FOE, you done did good. 

[bettsfic]

socknography: the importance of preserving fan creator biographical data

i wrote earlier on utilizing collections and bookmarks to boost the archival power of ao3, and in that post mentioned how i wish authors would fill out their bios so we can preserve fanauthor information as well as we preserve the fics themselves. so, here is my rant about WHY WE ARE SO IMPORTANT.

for my masters thesis i wrote about the layered pseudonymity of fanfiction authors, and after doing a ton of research, i find myself still thinking of the pseudonymous/anonymous divide as it pertains to fic. we have authors we consider “famous” and ones whose followings eclipse that of traditionally published authors, but unlike traditionally published authors, we don’t put a handy bio at the end of our fics. in fact, if you want to find out about the author, you have to hope they’ve linked somewhere to their tumblr or twitter or dreamwidth, or they have consistent pseuds across platforms. and from there, you have to hope they have an ‘about me.’ but most, myself included, don’t.

unlike traditional publication -- where amazon and goodreads and even the back of the book contains biographical info -- and even unlike the rest of fandom archival etiquette -- which, despite having virtually no committed rules still maintains its organizational structure -- there is no standard etiquette on fanauthor biographical data. 

i speculate the reasons fanauthors are hesitant to write their own biographies is very complicated: 

there is no “ask” for it or existing standard. when i publish stories under my real name, i’m required to provide my bio, which contains my accomplishments, where i got my degree, where else i’m published, and my website. all literary author bios follow this formula, so they’re pretty easy to write. other than this post, i have never seen a request for fanauthor bios. so without an editor demanding it, and without a standard formula or platform to draw from, a total lack of information becomes the norm, and almost any info other than the standard “name. age. pronouns. ao3 name. list of fandoms and/or pithy one-liner” of tumblr or occasional ask game is seen as a deviation from the norm. even ask games get a bad rep sometimes, and they’re transitory, a post you see as you’re scrolling through to somewhere else, not static, like a dedicated profile page.

pseudonymity veers too close to anonymity. an anonymous author cannot have a biography. a pseudonymous author can, but biographies may be seen as defeating the purpose of writing under a pseudonym, or multiple pseuds. a sock account is a sock for a reason -- you don’t want it associated with your main. moreover, i believe fandom creates an environment in which to acknowledge your accomplishments and promote your own content is seen as narcissistic. fanfiction can sometimes be seen as a genre of selflessness, donating time and energy into a community centered around a shared canon, not personal gain. to acknowledge the self publicly is to invite attention, and attention is contradictory to anonymity.

shame and humility. the more information you have on the internet, the easier you are to find. very few fanauthors use their real names, or feel comfortable connecting their fan identity to their real one. i hear pretty constantly how often fanauthors hide their fannishness from their coworkers and loved ones, how only the people closest to them know they write/read fanfic. moreover, you might think “my most popular fic only has 10 kudos and 1 comment, nobody wants to know about me” (which is so not true, but i’ll get to that in a minute).

fandom is constantly changing. with a central archive for fanfiction in place, it’s easier now to be in multiple fandoms at once than it ever has been. if you want to read all sugar daddy fics, there’s a tag for that, and if you’re not picky about canon, you have an entire buffet of fandoms to choose from. communities are growing and shifting and changing shape. i move fandoms, and i keep my friends and readers from previous fandoms. i get dragged to new fandoms frequently. my interests and inspirations change, but i don’t erase my history or identity every time i move, i only add to it. i am always betts whether i’m in star wars or the 100 or game of thrones. but if you only read my fic, you don’t know the stories behind it. many people don’t know i entered fandom in the brony convention community in 2012, or that i was sadrobots before i was betty days before i was betts, or how fandom changed my life and led me through a path of personal trauma recovery, or that i co-founded wayward daughters, or ran the fanauthor workshop, or all these other things about fanfic that is not fanfic itself. 

if you are a fan creator, your fannish personal narrative matters. telling your story helps preserve the metatextual history of our genre.

i think constantly about what our genre will look like in 30 or 50 years, if it will be like other genres that began as subversions of the mainstream: comic books, beat literature, science fiction. genres that, at the time involved groups of friends creating stories for each other, bouncing ideas off of one another, experimenting with or distorting other genres, and which became, over time, well-regarded forms with rich histories. 

maybe one day, like the MCU, we’ll have a dedicated production company that churns out adaptations of longform coffee shop aus written between 2009 and 2015. maybe “BNFs” will be read in high school literature curriculums. maybe our work will end up on the real or virtual shelves of our great grandchildren. and if that happens, if fanfic goes entirely mainstream, how will fanfic authorship be perceived? how will fanpeople in 2080, if humanity is still around by then, interact with the lexicon we’ve created and preserved? what would you do if you found out Jane Austen wrote under five different sock accounts across three platforms over the span of twenty years? how would you, a fan of Pride & Prejudice, even begin to find all of her work?

we have so many social constraints pushing against us. there’s purity culture, which encourages further division of identity -- fanauthors may write fluff on their main and have various sock accounts for underage/noncon fics. if you’re a scarecrow, you’re much harder for a mob to attack. there’s misogyny, which dictates women/queer ppl shouldn’t be writing about or indulging in or exploring their sexuality at all. there’s intellectual property and a history of DMCAs, which, although kept at bay by the OTW, may still have influence on the “illegal” mentality of our work. with social armies against us, it’s easier to exist in the shadows, on the fringe. we change URLs based on our moving interests, and split our identities a million different ways, and keep sarcastic “me” tags full of self-deprecating text posts. we are difficult beasts to catch, because we have not been allowed to exist.

i spent a lot of time today googling the word for “pseudonymous biography” and came up empty-handed (if someone knows of an existing word, pls let me know. “pseudography” is apparently a fancy word for a typo; “pseudobiography” is a fake biography), so for lack of anything better, i’ve come up with the term “socknography” because 1) it’s funny and doesn’t sound intimidating, and 2) it encapsulates the sensitive and complicated way fanauthor identifying conventions work. and also i think “fanauthor biography,” “bibliography,” and “profile” just doesn’t cut it for the actual work of these pieces. they don’t necessarily include IRL biographical data, they include more historical/community context than a bibliography, and the words “profile” and “about me” don’t really inspire interaction, or acknowledge the archival importance of this work.

astolat’s fanlore page is my go-to example. astolat writes under multiple pseuds and has major influence in the history of fandom. she’s also a traditionally published author, but you notice, her ofic novels are not mentioned, nor any other real-life identifying information. fanlore has a really good policy on this in place, for those concerned about doxxing. 

(moreover, i am not suggesting you centralize your socks. they’re socks for a reason. but most everyone has a main, and that main identity has a story.)

there are 2 existing spaces to preserve socknographies. 

fanlore, a wiki owned by the OTW, you can make an account and create a user page (which is different than a “person” page) using a user profile template

ao3′s “profile” page, which is a big blank box in which anything goes

(i’m not including tumblr on this list because i don’t think it’s a stable platform.) 

fanlore’s template is straight to the point and minimal, which doesn’t really invite narrative the same way a literary bio would. ao3′s big blank box leaves us with the question -- wtf do i say about myself? how do i say it? how much is too much? and because of that, most profiles are either blank or only include a policy on translations/podfic/fanart, and maybe links to tumblr and twitter. but let me tell you, if i have read your fic and taken the time to move over to your profile, you better believe i am a fan. and as a fan, i want to Know Things.

here are the things i want to know, or

a potential template:

introduction (name/alias, age, location, pronouns, occupation)

accomplishments (degrees, personal history)

fan history (fandoms you’ve been in, timeline as a fan, how you were introduced to fandom/fanfiction, what does fandom mean to you -- this is where your fan narrative goes)

fandom participation (popular fics/posts, involvement in fan events/communities, side blogs, interviews, etc. 3 & 4 might be one and the same for you)

spotlight (which of your fics are most important to you/would you like others to read and why? what are the stories behind your favorite fics you’ve written?)

find me elsewhere* (links to tumblr, twitter, insta, etc.)

policies on fanart, fanfic of fic, podfics, and translations

*you cannot link to ko-fi, paypal, patreon, or amazon on ao3/fanlore per the non-commercial terms of service

i’ll be working on filling this out for my own profile as an example, but you can also see how my @fanauthorworkshop participants filled out their fanauthor spotlights, and the information they provided. obviously, you should only share that which you feel comfortable sharing, and as your fandom life changes, your narrative will change too. it’s not much different than updating a CV or resume.

tl;dr the goal is to provide a self-narrative of your fan life/identity for posterity. who are you and why are you a fanperson? why do you create fan content? what are you proud of and what do you want to highlight to others? who are you in this space?