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localcactushugger · 4 years ago

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Is anyone else amazed that Hawks was only "undercover" with the Leauge for 6 months at the most.

Not only that, one and a half of those 6 months were spent just trying to gain enough trust to infiltrate.

I know it seems like much longer since Hawks made his Manga debut 2 years ago. But he had such a short amount of time on this mission. Hawks was introduced in the manga with his role being the "double agent". We literally have not seen Hawks outside of his "spy" role. Even when he is interacting with other characters outside of the Leauge, his "mission" is still happening in the background.

It seems Hawks made contact with Dabi right before the Hero Billboard chart, this is when he starts trying to infiltrate. His interaction with Dabi in the warehouse begins immediately after Endeavors fight with High-End:

During this time, Dabi is testing out a High-End Nomu for doctor Ujiko. Which means by the time Endeavor fights High-End, the My Villain Academia arc is already happening. Hawks is assumed to be one of the "members" Dabi is trying to recruit:

The Leauge has already made contact with doctor Ujiko, and the Doctor sends Dabi to test his High-End Nomu out on Endeavor (even though Dabi didn't know it would be Endeavor) while the rest of the Leauge battle Machia. At the time, Dabi still doesn't trust Hawks at all and he keeps the hero at arms length. While Dabi and Hawks are sharing ominous phone calls, the Leauge is hauling ass and it take's Shigiraki a month and a half to finally beat Machia. (The MLA is "defeated" too):

After a month and a half of phone calls (while the Leauge gets their asses handed to them by Machia in the background) Hawks is finally allowed into the Leauge when the battle of Dekia City is finally over. Dabi let's him in because Hawks "kills" Best Jeanist.

But there's a problem. By the time Hawks is let in, The Leagues numbers have drastically increased. They have an army at their side, multiple High-End nomu, and are now called the MLA:

Hawks blames himself, saying that he was "too late". That so many civilians would be alive now if he had been faster. He couldn't round up the Leauge when they were a small group, and now they have an army. A powerful one:

He's in too deep now. And you can see the stress on his face. I bet he never expected to be part of an army. He was simply tasked to round up the Leauge members while they were a small group, but the MLA was completely unexpected. Still, he decides to improvise and do the best he can with the shitty cards he's been dealt. It's not like he has another option at this point.

So he slips a coded message to Endeavor ASAP. Basically saying "yo, in four months shits about to go down. Ttyl I'll keep you posted lol". He can't tell the guy in person now, because to make things harder, he has camera's on his wings. (and even though he's being watched by camera's, he also gets followed by guards at the mansion):

After Hawks relays the massge, he stroles around the mansion with his bodyguard and heads towards the cafeteria. With a little eavesdropping (courtesy of his feathers) he also finds out that the Leauges plan is to "Destroy Everything" in four months:

After he relays the massage to Endeavor, he listens to the Leauges plans of destruction as his thoughts run a thousand M.P.H.

Because now "capture the Leauge" has turned into "Holy shit I now only have 4 months to take down a full fledged terrorist organization/army from the inside-out by myself while I'm being monitored 24/7 with absolutely no privacy & also a full time job as a hero + a public image to maintain. And I can only contact my fellow pro's about this mission through code because if the villains find out I'm a double agent I could be killed and Japan could be destroyed. Also some heros have even joined the MLA so who on my own side can I trust? Only a select specific few for now I guess."

If you thought things couldn't get worse your wrong.

Because around 2 months before the raid Hawks' heart (that wants to be free & has a genuine desire to help people) takes shit a bit too far when it makes him get attached to a certain powerful villain.

Hawks quckily finds out that Twice is easily the second most powerful villain in the Leauge after Shigiraki. He's an S ranked villain and he'll kick your ass with the power of friendship anyday. He's a great guy, but him and the Leauge are still planning on doing horrible things within the next 2 months. Twice is going along with it because he wants to stick by his friends, which y'know, is a cool motive. But considering that fact that the people Hawks is trying to protect ALSO have friends, and family's, this makes shit difficult and sends Hawks on some major guilt trips. (I would show all the panels of Hawks sadly smiling as Twice calls him a "good guy", but alas- Tumblr has informed me that I've reached my 10 image per post limit)

And tbh who wouldn't feel bad about suddenly getting attached to such a golden retriever of a man and then realizing you'll have to double-cross him at some point! I'm not surprised Hawks would feel this way, especially considering the fact that he never wanted to take on this mission in the first place.

Hawks is very much a people person, and he HATES lying even when he has no other option. This is a man who got "shivers up his spine" when he had to put on a serious face while handing Endeavor a book with coded messages inside. He literally felt icky and thought "this is low even for me" just because he had to use a deadly expression so that Endeavor would get the gist.

And when the Commission made their "proposal" about this mission, Hawks' first reaction was to call them out on their B.S. for asking him to put civilian lives at risk. He even admitted that he was feeling bad about sending Tokoyami away while talking to Deku, Shoto, and Bakugo. Hawks felt guilty about not being able to spend more time with his student, but considering that things with the MLA were starting to get riskier, and that Hawks literally handed Endeavor a book with a coded message inside about an uprising 2 seconds later, I can see why he wouldn't want to risk Tokoyami being around him. The fact that the camera's on Hawks' wings caught his interactions with Endeavor & the students also makes the creep‐factor worse. The MLA saw everything AND talked about it in a meeting later. Continuing to train with Tokoyami would put him at risk.

I love the complexity of Hawks' character, he's incredibly intelligent, logical, and intuitive. But at the same time throughout this entire mission his heart is constantly battling with his mind. Even when he knows he has to grit his teeth and do something shifty, his heart never fails to put up a fight with his logistics. Honestly it's been a pattern for a while that Hawks' sympathy always "Trips him up" in some way, so idk why I didn't see it coming around to bite him in the ass later.

(Tbh it's hard for me to see Hawks as a this super "Morally Gray" person that the fandom likes to paint him as because of a mission that he only spent 6 months on. I personally, kinda see Hawks as a "good person" who works for a "morally gray" agency. But that's a whole different meta)

Basically, Hawks getting attached to Twice wasn't a surprise. But considering how powerful Twice was, along with his role in the League's destructive plans (He was a lieutenant in one of the MLA's "Units") the discourse going on in Hawks' mind makes sense. By this point Hawks has already figured out all of the MLA's "Units" along with the three "bosses" that support the lieutenants of those "Units". It's noted that those "bosses" are extremely powerful and can match the strength of the heros as well. It took Hawks an entire month just to figure out all of the "Units" members. (I would show the panels explaining all of this but I'm at my photo limit)

All of these members were tasked to follow their lieutenants and bosses, and the plan was to attack all of Japans major cities at the same time. Once the cities were destroyed and chaos had set in, Redestro and feel good inc. Would distribute support items to the remaining citizens in the name of "self-defense". It would create a country full of discourse and destruction where Redestro and Feel good inc. Would rule from the shadows. But Shigiraki would be the main leader. He would become "king" and sit upon a "throne of rubble". (At least this was the MLA's plan, Shigiraki himself just kinda wants to destroy everything. But I suppose this would make things easier for him to do that.)

needless to say, the stakes have been upped excessively. But it took Hawks an entire month to gather this info.

This post is honestly just me marveling at what an M.V.P Hawks is

My guy literally only had 4 months to take down an entire terrorist organization for the inside-out. AND he was being monitored during that entire time. He figured out the MLA's intentions within the first month of being there. And it took him another full month to go into detail and figure out all the members, bosses, and lieutenants, for each of their "Units". Hawks even went as far as to immerse himself in the MLA's ideology, and he had in-depth discussions with the MLA's members. HELL HE EVEN FAKED HIS CO-WORKERS DEATH JUST TO GET IN.

AND HE PRETTY MUCH IMPROVISED ALL OF THIS SHIT!!! The original plan was to capture the Leauge when they were a small group! But by the time Hawks managed to infiltrate, The Leauge already had an army! They were a full-blown organization! And Hawks just kinda rolled with it??? He just kinda bullshitted his way through??

Like, "okay I'm now apart of an army I guess. The Leauge is now an entire organization and they're planning on destroying Japan in March. Let's see how this goes. I'll just have to make this work"???

LIKE HOW THE FUCK IS HE NOT DEAD! WHAT A FUCKING MADLAD

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reidsmemory · 5 years ago

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Echo

Spencer Reid

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: Y/N is abducted while working a case and the team has to find her before it’s too late.

Genre: Fluff with a touch of angst

Warnings: Mention of death of minor character, torture

not my gif!

The team had been looking into case that had targeted girls with Y/H/C hair and Y/E/C eyes. All had looks strikingly similar to you and if anyone were to see either one of the victims in a room with you, they would say you were related. You all had been on the case for about a week now and you were still no where close to catching this guy.

“Agent Y/L/N,” a voice called as you whipped your head to face them, “these came in for you,” the officer was holding a bouquet of red roses with a small white card on the top of it.

“Do you know who these are from?” you asked as he shook his head and walked away.

“What does the note say?” Emily asked as the whole team had watched the interaction.

You opened the envelope and read the note as you furrowed your brows, “echo.” The team looked at each other with puzzled faces, “what the hell is that suppose to mean? Have we already dealt with this unsub?” The rest of team began theorizing as the same officer walked up to you again.

“Agent, we’ve got someone that say he needs to speak to you.”

“Can’t they come here?” Hotch asked, getting defensive.

“He says that he won’t go into a place of justice, whatever that means,” the officer began to lead you as the rest of the team followed. You began walking towards the entrance of the station as the officer looked around for the mystery man. “He was just here,” the man spoke.

“Spence,” you spoke out as your boyfriend looked to you before you collapsed on the ground. You head hit the flooring as a ringing sounded in your ears as well as their being two of everything. Two Spencer’s holding your head, two Hotch’s yelling and pointing fingers, two lights blinding you from seeing anything.

What felt like hours later you were being lifted onto a bed. Two men had arrived with an ambulance as shouting and yelling was all that was heard. “Are you family, sir?” the first responder asked as Spencer opened him mouth and closed it again, “I didn’t think so, you all can follow in cars.” The man said as his colleague gave him as weird look as the both of them lifted you into the ambulance as the rest of the team rushed to get their keys and get into the SUVs.

The ambulance sped off as the sirens wailed and your team rushed to the cars. “What in the fresh hell?” Derek said as he looked at the tires on one of the SUVs. “My tires are popped, what about you, Hotch?”

“Same here,” the raven haired man said.

“It’s a set up,” Reid spoke as fear flooded his face.

***

You awoke in a cabin where you had been tired to a chair and had a gag on your mouth. Your vision still hazy and your thoughts even hazier.

“Oh good, you’re up,” a male voice said from the corner of the room. You tried to get a good look at him, but he stayed in the shadows. “Ben Cyrus,” he said as you furrowed your eyebrows. The name sounded so familiar, but you couldn’t quite remember where you had heard it before.

“Who are you?” you asked as the man chuckled. “Let me go, I’ll talk to my team and we can work this out.” He scoffed at your words and began to walk towards you.

“Ben Cyrus. He ran the greatest church known to man and you,” his face was hardened and his eyes had a crazed look in them, “took away our faith!” He struck his hand across your face as a burning sensation filled your cheek.

It all rushed back to you. A few year back you, Prentiss, and Reid had all gone undercover in a cult-like church. The leader, Benjamin Cyrus, had been suspected of child abuse and sexual harassment and the government had wanted the BAU to get involved.

“I remember,” you said as the man smiled.

“Good, Agent,” he grabbed a chair from the side of the room and brought it over to sit across from you. “Now,” he started again, “you might not know me. My name is Joey Cyrus and I would say it’s a pleasure to meet you, but I’d be lyin’,” he studied you as you did the same.

“What do you want, Joey?”

“Well my daddy would be nice for one, but I don’t believe you have the power to do that. So you’ll do just fine,” he got up from his chair and walked over to the bag that you had seen from the corner of your eye. He dumped the contents on the ground in front of you and a spill of tools came out. A hammer, pliers, a baseball bat, a few knives, and other things that could do damage. “Let’s get to know each other.”

***

Back at the station, Spencer was frantically trying to figure out who had taken you and why. The note on the roses had been laced with a medicinal herb that had knocked you out and the ambulance had been found in a ditch on the highway with all but one of the first responders on it. The medics had been killed in a brutal way that even made Spencer sick to his stomach as he thought about what this guy was doing to you.

“Reid,” Hotch’s voice broke his train of thought as he met eyes with the older man. “Go ahead, Garcia.”

“Alright. Our mystery medic is Joseph Mulgrew , he moved to Utah just a few years ago and before that he has been off the map,” Garcia told the team. “This guy, he’s like a ghost. No records of his name anywhere else and no former address of any kind.”

“Did you say Mulgrew?” Spencer said as the team looked at him.

“Yes I did Doctor, what about it?”

“Look up Joseph Cyrus,” Spencer told her as they heard the taps of Garcia’s keyboard. The team looked at him for an explanation, “Benjamin Cyrus, he was an unsub we had.”

“Yeah,” Emily started, “he was that guy that ran that church and...” she trailed off as the team got the gist of what she was saying.

“He was Charles Mulgrew before he made a come back at the church. It could be possible that he has unknown family, considering what he was really doing all those years,” Spencer explained, “Garcia, how old is Joseph?”

“He is 27 years of age and the good doctor is right. Joey here changed his name like dear old dad and oh...” Penny trailed off.

“Penny?” JJ asked.

“Joseph has been in and out of jail and juvie for as long as I can see. Charged with assault, petty theft, and oh my. Domestic abuse filed by his ex-wife who looks a lot like our Y/N,” a sounding on their tablets was heard as they opened it and saw a woman very similar to you.

“But Spencer and I went undercover too, why would he pick Y/N?” Emily said as she immediately started to solve the puzzle, “you think it’s because of the looks of the ex-wife?”

“I think so,” Rossi mumbled, “Penelope pull up the most current address to Joe and anything that could be used to store Y/N.”

“I’ve got a home address and a storage unit and they have all been sent to your phones! Go crime fighters and get our princess back!” Penelope told them.

“Thanks, Baby Girl,” Morgan hung up the phone.

“Reid with me and JJ. Rossi, Morgan, and Prentiss take the storage. We’ll have to use squad cars until the SUVs are fixed so lets go get Y/L/N,” Hotch ordered as they all nodded ad went to the parking lot.

***

You muffled your screams and grunts as Joey had began to carve into your stomach. He laughed as you clenched your teeth and held your hands in fists, surely four crescent shaped cuts were to be found on the inside of your palms if you opened them. “You son of a bitch,” you struggled to get out as Joey wiped the knife off on your pants.

“Don’t you talk about my mama that way, girl. I’ll make sure you regret it.” You received at blow to the side of your face. You spit out the blood that formed in your mouth as Joey began to take the other tools out from his collection. “These look nice, don’t they, girl?” He held up a pack of cigarettes and a lighter as he popped one in his mouth.

“Those things kill,” you said remembering Spencer tell you countless facts about the ‘cancer sticks’ as both of you had nicknamed them. “On second thought, why don’t you just keep smoking them.”

He laughed, “you are a firecracker. My daddy always said the young ones are.” He stroked your hair as you tried to move back.

“Your dad was sick in the head and you are too,” you spoke with such tenacity.

He looked at you blankly, “I thought I said you don’t speak of my family like that,” he took the cigarette from his mouth and stuck it on your exposed collar bone.

You grunted as he held your face in free hand. He leaned into your ear and whispered, “I want to hear those screams, girl.” He press the cigarette into your skin further, finally inciting a small scream to slip past your lips. “Good.”

***

The team had arrived at both locations and there was no sign that you were there. Spencer paced around with his hands in is hair as the rest of the team was now even more worried than before, if that was possible. The team had no idea where you could be and if you were even alive. It had been at least 13 hours since you had dropped in the lobby and it was eating Spencer and the team alive.

“You have nothing?” JJ asked Garcia over the phone,.

“No, i’m sorry. I’ll keep looking and-” she was cut off by Spencer who had just had a revelation.

“Garcia, make sure the jet is ready. I think I know where Y/N is.”

***

On the jet Spencer had explained the note and how it read ‘echo’ as saying that Joey might want to recreate the explosion at the church and now the team had touched down in Colorado where they got in SUVs to go to the church’s location.

A swat team followed them along the dirt roads that were bumpy and the night sky that was dark. The sun was starting to rise in the distance. Spencer remembered you always saying, ‘the same beams but a new day,’ and that made him the tiniest bit hopeful that they would find you in this new day.

The church came into view as they could see it was now a smaller wooden building. “What the hell,” Morgan said from the drivers seat as he say the building, “this guy built up a whole new structure to what? Avenge his father’s death?” The car came to a stop as the team hopped out of the car and Hotch began to go over the plan with the others.

“From the front-” he was cut off by a ear piercing scream that came from no one other than you. Spencer looked at his boss in worry as Hotch returned the look and started again, “let’s go.”

Joey drove a knife into your stomach as you screamed loudly. He left it in your body and quickly grabbed another knife from the ground. “You have got to work out your daddy issues another way,” you told him as he dragged the new knife down the side of your face as it cut into your skin.

“You wanna try something different, girl?” You immediately regretted your words and recalled Spence always telling you that your smart mouth was going to get you in trouble some day. He began to unbutton the top of his flannel, but quickly stopped as he heard footsteps in the distance. You heard them too.

“Spencer!” you yelled as loud as you could as Joey came over to you and cut the ropes on your ankles and arms as he quickly grabbed you and put a knife to your neck.

From the front of the house Spencer could hear your cries as his ears perked up as his heart rate grew faster and Hotch nodded as Morgan kicked the door down. The team moved through the structure and finally Spencer came face to face with you, “Y/N,” he said as you locked eyes with your boyfriend and smiled lightly, despite the situation at hand.

“Joseph, put the knife down,” Hotch told the man as the knife just dug deeper into your skin.

“I don’t think so,” he took grip on you and made it tighter. “You killed my family. He never did anything but help people in need of his guidance.”

“Your father ruined the lives of young girls,” Spencer said matter-o-factly.

“No! He did them a favor, he gave them the greatest gift he could,” Joey said as he began to move his hand without the knife a bit more. You furrowed your eyebrows as you tried see what he was hold and finally saw a small remote concealed in his hand.

You moved your eyes to Hotch’s and blinked rapidly. You just hoped he would pick up on the Morse Code and get everyone out of the building.

“Let’s just talk this out, Joey,” Hotch started, “JJ get everyone out, I want to talk to Joey alone.” JJ furrowed her eyebrows at the man but he gave he a stern look as she understood and began to move the team out.

“No! Bring them back!” Joey yelled, “or she dies.” Spencer looked at JJ as she tried to get him to leave the building, but he refused to move so she quickly called Morgan who grabbed Reid as he struggled against him.

“I can’t leave her!” he told them and Morgan ignored his pleas and called a couple SWAT members to help him with the genius.

“As much as I like her, I’ll do it,” Joey said as he continued to watch the men and women exist the building. “Bring them back!” Joey yelled as his grip on you faltered for a second which you took advantage of as you got out from his grasp and struggled to take the device from his hand.

“Go!” you yelled at Hotch but he jumped in and started to help you as the three of you wrestled and quickly the device was flung across the doorway to another room. You all freezed before you grabbed Hotch’s hand and dragged him towards the back of the building.

The team waited outside for Hotch and you as Reid screamed at Morgan, “you have to let me go back in there!”

“You can’t Kid, you heard Hotch!” Morgan yelled back as the rest of the team cringed at the fight. “I know all of us want to go back in there, but we can’t! You gotta understand that, Kid!”

“No! You don’t understand!” Spencer screamed, “she’s all I have! I didn’t even get to tell her that I love her! That I have been in love with her since that stupid dinner at that Thai restaurant in California!”

“That was two years ago...” JJ mumbled.

“Yeah! Two years! I’ve only been with with her for a couple months now and I haven’t even told her!” Everyone’s hearts pained as they heard Spencer’s cries and saw the liquid that dripped down his cheeks. “I can’t-”

All head turned as the house exploded a safe distance away from them. The orange flames roared as the team had their mouths’ open in shock.

“No,” Rossi and JJ whispered at the same time.

Morgan’s grip on Reid was gone as he watched the flames and turned to Emily who had had disbelief and horror over her face.

Spencer’s mind raced a mile every second and now his mind was completely blank of everything but you. Your face, your smile, your eyes, your lips, your laugh, your touch, your everything. Spencer ran towards the flames as the team yelled after him.

“Spencer,” JJ’s voice breaking as she leaned into Rossi’s embrace.

“Kid. Come on, don’t do this,” Morgan called as Emily just watched in disbelief with a gaping mouth and teary eyes.

Spencer didn’t care about their calls, he needed to find you. He scanned the firery rubble for any sign of you or Hotch, but there wasn’t any. Just ash and fallen wood covered in sweltering heat. “Y/N!” he yelled out, “Y/N! Hotch!” Spence continued to look through the wall of intense heat and for a second he saw a delicate hand reach up through the burning wood. “Y/N,” he whispered to himself as he began to walk through the blazing fire that threatened to burn his body and ruin his lungs.

He moved a piece of wood off of where he saw your hand and saw you and Hotch laying side by side. “Guys!” he screamed at his friends, “help!” The team gave each other confused faces before coming over to Spencer. JJ gasped as she saw your form next to Hotch’s as tears of joy spilled from her faces. Her and Emily joined hands as they worked to get the wood off of you.

“Medic!” Rossi yelled as people began to rush over to help.

Morgan and Reid worked to get a big piece of debris off of the two of you. Hotch’s eyes opened and he immediately looked to his side where you had been, holding his hand tightly. He coughed violently as the medics lifted him up and brought him to the ambulance. You blinked a few times and saw Spencer standing over you.

“Hey, can you hear me?” he asked as you gave him a thumbs up and he laughed at the simple gesture. He brought you up for and embrace as you struggled to keep your eyes open. The medic came over to you and began to carry you away as Spencer and the team followed you and Hotch to the ambulance.

“Can I?” he asked one of the nurses as she nodded and he climbed into the ambulance and held your hand as you drifted off to sleep.

***

When you woke up, blinding lights had been the first thing you saw. The second was Spencer who was asleep in a chair next to your bed, his head resting on the bed and his fingers interlaced with your own. You blinked a few times and saw the rest of the team in the room with you. Hotch was in bed identical to yours, but he was up and had his eye focused on the TV in front of him. By his side was JJ and Morgan as the conversed with each other in hushed voices. Penny was writing in a card with a sparkling pink pen as she handed it off to Rossi who smiled lightly at her. Emily was just outside your room as you saw her talking with a nurse or doctor; rather it looked more like arguing.

Derek glanced over to you briefly as he then turned back to JJ and then back to you. “You’re up,” he said quietly, a contrast to his usual booming voice. Everyone looked to you as you smiled.

“You gave us quite a scare, Y/L/N,” Hotch said as you laughed quietly which then turned into a cough.

“Em! Get a nurse or doctor!” Penny exclaimed as Emily rushed and called a nurse in the hallway. JJ got up from her seat and made her way over to your bed.

She examined your face before hugging you tightly. “God, you can never do that to us again,” she chuckled as you rubbed her back. You felt a few tears fall on your shoulders as JJ pulled away and wiped her cheeks. “He’ll be happy to see you,” she gestured to Spencer.

“Glad to have you back, kiddo,” Rossi told you with a smile, “you need anything?” As soon as he said that a doctor walked into your room and started to go over your condition.

“You are very lucky, Agent Y/L/N” she started, “you have a mild concussion and that wound on your abdomen will take some time to heal over. You received first and second degree burns all over your legs, arms, and torso, just like Agent Hotchner. Your eardrums are very fragile and I recommend no flying for at least 3 weeks. Your face has some minor bruising and cuts that should heal over time.” She set her chart down. “The both of you should be able to leave in a few days time, but for now just relax.”

“Thank you,” you said as she smiled.

“Dinner will be up in a few minutes,” with that she left and Morgan was seen grinning widely.

“What?” you said.

“She didn’t mention one thing.” You furrowed your brows at his words and he started to rub his head which just made you more confused.

“I have a concussion, you’re going to have to actually say it.” He laughed at your words.

“Do you think pretty boy will like the new haircut?” he asked as it finally clicked and you ran your fingers through your hair.

“Oh my, God,” you said as everyone laughed. “Oh my, God!” you repeated as Emily handed you a mirror and as you brought it up to your face your jaw dropped. Your hair was cut in jagged parts, but none shorter than your chin. The team laughed as you continued to gape at your reflection.

“Some of your hair ended up burning off, just a bit,” Emily said as you looked at her with wide eyes. She laughed as you began to laugh too and soon everyone joined in as you all smiled at your stupidly, funny haircut.

Spencer rubbed his eyes as he saw your smiling face and immediately hugged you tightly. “Thank Goodness,” he whispered as he pulled back from the embrace. “Why are we laughing?” he asked as you gestured towards your hair and smiled widely at the tall man.

“Is this gonna be a deal breaker, babe?” his cheeks flushed at the nickname.

He laughed a bit, “no, I still love you,” he said as the team froze at what he said as did he.

“Awh, I love you more, Spence,” you told him without skipping a beat as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Even if you do kinda look like David Bowie,” he said as you opened your mouth and smacked his arm playfully.

“Spencer Reid!”

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darkdevasofdestruction · 5 years ago

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When You Become A Fallen

(( This premise is about reader being one of the Seraphim, and she was/fell in love with one of the brothers, which made God shun her from the Celestial Realm, and thus, how each of the brothers helps her through her transformations to a Demon and her new lifestyle. ))

---

LUCIFER

Quite frankly, he took it the hardest, as he too was a Seraph back in the days, God’s most beloved angel, and the descend changed him a lot, even if he doesn’t want to admit.

When he saw your broken form on the ground, he cradled your body close to his chest, feeling fear and panic just as when Lilith almost died, so he went to plead to Diavolo to allow you permanent stay in the Devildom as well, saying that he’ll do anything for this favour, just like before.

Centuries passed since he descended, and while he still has nightmares of what happened, the pain and transformation were something that he forced himself to forget, at least for his own pride and ego, but seeing you in such excruciating pain was an even worse torture than before.

He knew there was little he or anyone else could do regarding all this, but he will be there by your side for the whole duration of it, no matter how long it took, be it days, weeks or months, he wouldn’t be pried away from you.

For the most of the day, Lucifer had you sit on his lap, both of you wearing light sleeping wear, so you could feel each other’s body heat, thinking it would help ease the pain, even by a little.

However, as soon as your 3 pairs of majestic, pure white wings started blankening, while one of the pairs also started burning, feather by feather, you became unreasonable, as you couldn’t even think or speak properly because of the agony surging through your every artery, vein, capillary and nerve in your body.

You were desperately clinging to him, scratching his back and arms, screeching for forgiveness, begging him to kill you already and end this pain, questioning what you did wrong, except have pure and unwavering feelings of love for someone, and all Lucifer could do was hold you tightly, a had on the back of your head, putting your face on the crook of his neck, while the other was on your back, putting you glued to his chest, trying to keep you still and potentially causing yourself more damage.

“WHY, GOD, WHY?! WHAT HAVE I DONE SO WRONG TO FALL OUT OF YOUR GRACES?! IS IT REALLY FORBIDDEN TO FOLLOW YOUR HEART AND FEELINGS?! CURSE YOU! CURSE THE CELESTIAL REALM! CURSE ALL YOUR FUCKING ANGELS! YOU ARE A MONSTERS!” you kept crying out, cursing the skies, and Lucifer, in his head and heart, was yelling the same thing as you were.

His own heart was crying out in despair seeing his beloved like that, and for the first time since Lilith, he shed tears of pure sorrow, cursing God, the Celeastial Realm and all the angels there, and more, cursing himself for allowing both of them to become lovers back when they were angels, because his act of rebelling against God only brought you intense suffering.

There is nothing Lucifer wouldn’t do for you, no matter how impossible it seemed, but you are the only person he ever had such a connection with, so he treasures you as much as his own brothers.

He knows how difficult it was for him to completely accept he was a Demon and blend in to this new place, but he will be there for you to guide and teach you with every step you took, always holding you hand, always giving you genuine and tender smiles to help you feel more at ease, and of course, he will make sure you room with him so you won’t ever be alone and afraid again.

---

MAMMON

He freaks out so bad at first, questioning you out loud a thousand questions, while fidgeting from leg to leg and looking around for help.

Why were you here? Why were you injured? What happened? Are you alright?

Of course you weren’t alright, damn it! Stupid Mammon! Do something!

He picked you up and brought you to Lucifer, crying desperately and asking what the hell he was supposed to do, because he had no idea what the hell happened and why you were the way you are, and for the first time in ages, Lucifer didn’t yell at him, nor did he insult him - He actually helped him as much as he could, because he knew what was going on, and his heart broke at seeing his beloved little brother crying like that.

In his room, you wouldn’t stop crying and holding your head - You had migraines, your scalp was burning, your whole skin felt ablaze, you felt akin to a witch being burnt alive, and poor Mammon was crying along with you, not knowing if he should touch you, in fear of hurting you more, or holding you tightly and letting you cry away everything that hurt.

Mammon tried to kiss your tears away, put on music to help you keep your mind away from the pain, tried to tell you silly stories from his failed plans, or from his brothers to make you laugh, but in the end, nothing really helped, and he felt that the sky fell on him.

That is, until he turned away from you, gripping his hair in despair as he was running out of ideas to help you and his heart was being ripped apart more and more...But you gripped on his jacket and pulled him in a tight embrace from the back, resting your forehead on the blades of his shoulders, making him stop dead in his track, stiff as a board.

“Mammon, it hurts...Mammon, don’t leave me, please...Please keep on staying me me. Don’t leave me again. I missed you so much...So much that I didn’t even realise that the whole Celestial Realm knew I was in love with you ever since you were an angel...Everyone knew, except for me...But I missed you so much...And they said it’s forbidden. But I can’t live without you.” you sobbed, your fingers and nails digging into his chest as you confessed your sin and the reason you got in this position, which frankly, it made Mammon feel both guilty and even more head over heels with you.

Honestly, nobody ever expressed their feelings to him the way you did, unless it was Stupid Mammon left and right...But you...You were being so genuine and pure...You were real...You loved him...And now there was no barrier between you two...

He cursed himself for being happy with what happened, despite your agony, but he was a greedy man, and he craved your affection more than flowers need the Sun, so he continued to try to put a smile on your face and make the transformation easier to bear with.

Realising that your horns were beginning to grow, he transformed into his demon self and taking your hands in his gingerly, he put them over his own horns, reassuring you that everything will be okay, that they will grow pretty fast and all the agony will go away soon.

When the transformation was done, he was extremely overprotective of you becoming a student at RAD, dragging you with him everywhere, but he tried to be more responsible this time, as he had to take care of you and he couldn’t risk some angry witches or other demons attacking you to get to him.

--- LEVIATHAN

Kinda like Mammon, he was panicked beyond belief, not understanding how the hell did you get yourself in that position, but instead of freaking out, he kinda looked at you, stunned, unmoving, until he finally managed to snap out of it and carried you to his room, while calling Lucifer and telling him the gist of it.

Levi knew that his room was incredibly aesthetic and relaxing, having an aquatic theme, so hopefully, it will help you bear with the transformation and adaptation to this new life-style easier, and hopefully, not have any problems with blending in, especially since he will be there for you at every step you took.

And if that wasn’t enough, since Levi barely leaves the room, he would shelter you like a mother would her little baby, coddling you, wrapping his tail around you protectively, helping you take slightly cold baths to get rid of the burning and itching sensation of your horns and wings transforming, and showing you Henry 2.0 and promising you that he will be your best friend too.

However, the transformation for you wasn’t as bad as the spiraling and paranoia that seemed to completely engulf you, which made you quite hysterical for a while, and no amount of video games and anime could prepare Levi for this mess.

“Levi, what if they come after me? What if they aren’t happy with me being alive? What if they take me back and try to torture me to death? I don’t want back there again...Levi, I’m afraid, please protect me.” you clutched his blouse while sobbing in his shoulder, and all he could do was hold you tightly and promise you that everything will be okay and he would let nobody touch you again.

He would then start telling you about TSL and how The Lord of Shadows will always be there to protect his Henry, which is when you asked him if he would be your Lord of Shadows, and his face started blushing like crazy, and he vowed to himself that you, his most precious person, will never ever have to feel any kind of pain ever again, and he will be there for you no matter what.

Levi understands what’s like being afraid, nervous, anxious, which is something he often feels himself, and thus, the reason for preferring to take online classes rather than going physically to a classroom, which is something that he will ask for for you too, and thankfully, Lucifer approves of it, understanding the situation.

His hectic sleeping schedule is always messed up by his love for binge-watching and binge-playing, something you often partake into as a way to keep the intrusive thoughts away from your head, and it is rather effective.

However, on the occasions that you’re having a mental breakdown and start spiraling once again, no matter what hour of the day or night it is, Levi will be there to tell you how he loves you, how you’re safe with him, that nobody would ever dare cross Diavolo’s rules on his own domain, and that those angels up there were shitheads for prosecuting you for something as pure as loving someone.

--- SATAN

Out of all the demon brothers, he is obviously the only one who didn’t have to go through the whole metamorphosis ritual, because he never was an angel to begin with.

He knows, however, the excruciating pain that you’re going through, as him and Lucifer share some of the more powerful emotions and memories he used to have, and so, he has an idea, backing up all the stories he heard from 3rd parties, from his brothers and from books.

Satan will make all of his brothers send him thorough voice messages to explain what they went through and how he could help you, and thus, he would be pampering and taking care of you every second, without a second thought.

He couldn’t believe that you truly fell for him after just one year of spending time together, during the exchange-student program, when you came to Devildom...I mean, he was a demon, and while yes, he too fell for you, he was in shock hearing that such a pure and perfect being such as yourself would ever harbour such feelings for him, a demon, and the Avatar of Wrath nonetheless...

“Satan...Why...Why is it such a sin to fall in love? What have I done so cruel...So unforgivable...That I deserve to go through all this pain...All this agony...All I wanted was to be happy...Is that so selfish of me to ask? Am I not allowed to live the rest of my life with someone that I genuinely cherish so much...?” she cried with so much self-hatred that it made Satan want to burn the whole Celestial Realm and torture and rip apart every feather, every limb of those stupid angels and flay them alive, letting the lesser demons eat them.

The pain you’re being subjected to is exhausting you so much, but if you stand still, it feels like it’s hurting tenfold, so you try to keep yourself moving around the room, until you collapse from over-exerting your already frail body.

Satan would only look at you in pity, as he tried to hide the burning rage he harboured in his heart, along with all the death-threats he wanted to throw away at God and all the stupid angels who dared do this to you, so he picks you up gently, putting you on his bed, puts a light blanket over you and goes to prepare a cup of calming tea that has somnolent effects, hoping that it would help you heal faster and regain some of your strength through resting.

He would hold you close to his chest, kissing your forehead, stroking your hair, trying to keep you drowsy and calm, while also reading you one very interesting book, Harrison Porter, as it had lots of magic spells and he could show you the spells, to fascinate you, and try to keep your thoughts away from the pain.

Of course, he would be researching all remedies, spells and treatments to help ease the pain, so he would be rubbing creams with and lotions on your back and on your wings, to calm down the pain, would put spells on you to give you sweet dreams every night, and would always hold you tightly and promise you that nobody would ever come with any ill-intent towards you, and that he would kill anyone who dares even look at you the wrong way.

Since he has always been a demon, he is very popular and sociable, so blending in would be much easier with him by your side, as he would take you as his date everywhere - Be it a sports game, a theater play, an opera play, a ballet, a social gathering, a ballroom dance, a drive-outside cinema, or colour festival, a concert...Or literally anything.

---

ASMODEUS

No matter how dramatic and extra Asmo loves to be, this was no joking matter, and the person he knew he could always rely on, and that was his eldest brother, Lucifer, the only being that he ever looked up to, that he ever admired - Lucifer, the one who used to be a Seraph, just like you.

He wanted to understand what Lucifer went through, because sure, Asmo knew the physical transformations his brother went through, but he couldn’t know of the emotional trauma, or how different it was for him, as he was, after all, the highest-ranking angel in the Celestial Realm.

He then correlated with how disgusted he remembered both himself and Lucifer felt when looking into the mirror and realising they weren’t the divine beings from before, but a wretched abomination, and how long it took them to come to terms with the idea, and finally try to find the specks of beauty that others saw in them, despite the changes.

It was true, you went through a lot of pain, exhaustion, mental breakdowns, trauma, all because of how agonising the transformation was, and Asmo was there for you to brighten up and ease you through everything, not wanting you to be alone, like they were, so seeing his gorgeous and loving smile always seemed to make the corners of your mouth tilt upwards, even by a little bit.

Asmo would cuddle you and pamper you with an infinite amount of kisses, and of course, would give you frequent back rubs, wing massages, scalp massages, knowing that those were the most painful and affected areas, and thankfully enough, all the beauty products he used on you were cool and had calming and painkilling effects, so at least was better for you.

When it was all over, however, the horror didn’t end, as you saw yourself in the mirror and fell to your knees shrieking at your new appearance...That wasn’t you...It couldn’t be you...This...This abomination...This tainted thing...

Your desperation and self-hatred were so through the roof that you punched the mirror and clutched the shards in your hands, not even feeling any pain, because everything was ablaze anyway, and not even your tears could pull out the fire inside you.

Asmo was devastated seeing you like this, it made him want to sob, to pull you to his chest and cry out, telling him how he hates seeing you like this, that you remind him of himself, that deep inside him, despite all the narcissism he puts on display, he is also still a bit insecure and wishes he had the same appearance as before...But what hurt him the most was seeing you hating yourself so much, and having ended up like him, just because your heart chose the wrong person to have such intense feelings for.

“This is not me...This can’t be me...Asmodeus, what the hell is wrong with your mirror, it’s broken...It’s cursed...This isn’t me, this isn’t how I look...It can’t be...My wings...My feathers...They are all black...And these horns...And this gem...And the markings...This new outfit...What is this...Why...Why me...Why...?! Why am I being cursed for being in love?! Is this how ugly, tainted and abominable my soul is?! Is that why I look like this?! Is that WHY I became this?!” you tore away at your hair, as Asmo could only fix the mirror quickly, to avoid you getting more injured, and cradled your smaller form to his chest, whispering reassuring words and compliments.

He would do all his beauty routines with you, would compliment you endlessly, would make you try out a thousand and more outfits that he bought for you, showing you off, taking pics of you and boasting with you on DevilGram, since you’re the most gorgeous babe alive and he’s lucky to have you in his life, and now, you and him are the most beautiful couple ever to exist, without a doubt.

He would never tell you all the emotional trauma and self-hatred he went through, because as long as he could make you smile and help teach you how to love yourself again, and see the beauty in your new appearance, Asmodeus was happy and didn’t need anything else.

--- BEELZEBUB

For poor Beel, this was the whole Lilith problem all over again, blaming and hating himself for letting her die (sort of), and now, here you were, a Fallen, broken, lost, depressed, all because you loved him, and he loved you, but he rebelled and now you were caught in the crossfire.

No matter how kind and sweet he is, this is the second time the Celestial Realm crushed his heart and stomped on his feelings, hurting the people he loves most, and this was too much...He would never be able to forgive them, no matter what...And especially not his Father for being so cruel with the angels that loved him so much and were beyond devout to him.

For him, the changes weren’t as painful, and that may be because of his built, and how he finds it easier to deal with physical pain, rather than the emotional one, as he feels like he’s getting blow after blow in that aspect, but he must be strong, for you, for Belphie, for Lilith and for his brothers too.

Beel knows he’s very physically strong, even by demon standards, so he will be a bit afraid at the beginning to touch you, fearing that he will make you hurt more than you already do, but as soon as you nestle yourself in his embrace, he can’t help himself and he puts his arms around you, making you feel safer, protected, and you can deal the agony better, even by a bit.

If he could, he would take away all the pain that you’re feeling, he would go through all that agony a thousands times, just so he could spare you all this pain, he would volunteer to get his wings burnt, grow a new set of horns, would even let himself go through all the paranoia, the nightmares, the burning feeling of your skin...Even the incapacity to eat demon food...Only to spare you of all that horror...

But that wasn’t possible, unfortunately, so all he could do was stay by your side through all of it and try to make it more bearable, because, after all, he still had Belphie, so he wasn’t alone, and neither will you be.

He completely forgot how, at the beginning, for quite a long time, his body refused to digest demon food, so he would get sick and vomit every time he would try to eat something, but was quickly reminded when you made a sprint to the bathroom and he could only hold your hair as you puked your guts out, crying at the pain.

“Why do I have to go through this...God...Why...The wings...The horns...And now, I can’t even eat? Am I supposed to just starve to death...? Is that what you want, Father? Is this the Divine Punishment I get for wanting my loved ones to be safe? That I wanted to see you and tell you how much I care for you, because I never got the chance when you were still an angel? Is that how angels should really be? Hateful of others? Then I’m glad I don’t have to associate myself with such cruel creatures like you, Father!” you growled in anger, frustration, pain, hatred and agony, letting out all your feelings that have been bottled up for so many centuries, but at least now, Beel was there to hold you tight and tell you that everything will be okay, and you still have him.

He would completely stop eating around you, because despite being the Avatar of Gluttony, he couldn’t possibly tempt you with food and make you feel worse, so every so often, he would bring you some light human food, like crackers, water, milk, some vegetables, toast, to help you get some nutrients for your body, so you won’t collapse, at least, even though it was obvious you were becoming paler and skinnier, which worried Beel a lot.

Even so, Beel was always by your side, carrying you if you felt weak at some moment, helping you eat bit by beat, making sure you get a healthy portions, and just the right foods, integrating some little bits of demon food, and before you knew it, you were completely able to have a proper demon meal, and were getting better.

From then on, you will always sleep in his bed, either cuddling or holding hands, because both of you are afraid of losing the other, of having through go through all that torture again, but at least the day was much brighter and you could inally go out together and live your life as a normal student in Devildom would.

--- BELPHEGOR

The Avatar of Sloth has so much pent up rage and hatred, that he may need to take over the title of Avatar of Wrath before long.

First, hating the whole human world, because of Lilith’s death, hating demons because of the misunderstanding with Diavolo and Lucifer, and now, wanting to burn and torture to death the whole Celestial Realm for shunning you like that, letting you to rot, broken, on the ground, as if you were worth less than a vermin.

It took every ounce of self-control Belphegor had to stop himself from unleashing his hatred on the world, and get you to his room to tend to you, hoping and doing his best to make sure you are alright.

He is going to force Beel to keep him awake, because, due to his Avatar Sin, he is prone to falling asleep quite easily, which would only be counter-productive and he wouldn’t be able to sooth your pain and fears this way, so he’s going to sacrifice days and nights of sleep just to make sure you’re not crying anymore.

No matter how harsh his speech is, it does a complete 180 when it comes to you, he will speak in the softest voice possible, would look at you with the most tender look on his face, would give you lost of reassuring gentle kisses, would stroke your hair soothingly, while also humming an old lullaby that Lilith used to sing to him, and would brush away the hair from your face, to see your gorgeous eyes sparkling.

He hates seeing you in so much pain, but every time he curses the angels in his head, he’s just going to hug you tighter, as a way to stop himself from crying at your misfortune, because you’re too pure and kind, you don’t deserve to go through all this pain, it’s just not fair...

What was worse is that, after all this physical mess ended, the emotional and mental one only began, as you weren’t able to get a wink of sleep, because of all the nightmares plaguing your mind all the time, waking you up, making you cry and scream, tremble in fear and anxiety, while all Belphie could do was to hug you tightly, turn on the light, and tell you the same generic reassuring words because...What else was there for him to even say anymore?!

“I’m scared, Belphie, I’m scared...I’m afraid that if I fall asleep, I’m just going to get more nightmares, and maybe I won’t even wake up after that. I’m afraid that if I wake up, you will be taken away from me...Or that they will drag me back to the Celestial Realm to torture me for treason...I’m afraid I’ll have to go through all that over and over and over again...Belphie, I’m exhausted, I’m losing my mind...I just want to have one fucking night of proper sleep...Just one...Is that too much to ask? Am I really that undeserving of feeling rested, just because I fell in love? Is that how things are for those perfect frauds up there?!” you sobbed, clinging on Belphie, as he could only curse them together with you, giving you approving words, and cuddling with you, you try to fall asleep on his cow-patterned pillow, lights still on, drinking a cup of hot milk with honey, thanks to Beel who went to prepare some for the both of you.

Even for him, who has been a demon for so long, nightmares never ended, but at least they weren’t as frequent as yours, so to help you out, even by a bit, he started looking around for remedies, spells, drinks, to get you into a deep sleep with no dreams, at least for now, to help you regain even a bit of your strength back and not be a zombie anymore.

Belphie would get incredibly passive-aggressive and protective of you, growling at anyone that may be considered a threat to you, that approaches you, and wouldn’t let you alone for even a second, in fear of somehow losing you - You’re either with him, or with one of his brothers, or in yours or his room, and frankly, you’re happy knowing that you can finally feel a sense of security after so long.

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rk1kheadcanons · 4 years ago

Note

Angst? Human AU? Connor temporarily flat lines

It wasn’t supposed to be this way.

The words would not stop circling in Markus’ head - ringing melancholic, incredulous, resigned with each repetition - as his eyes, burning with lack of sleep, stayed fixed on the man laying in the hospital bed. On the unsteady rise and fall of his chest, on the too still face as pale as the bed sheets covering him.

Markus was the one with the dangerous job - the loud and “cocky” (as the media so lovingly put it) politician, who openly sneered at Mega Corporation’s desperate attempts at bribery, who denounced his fiercest political opponents and the kowtowers to the status quo of his own party alike. He received death threats for breakfast every morning. His team had thwarted two assasination attempts these last few months alone, and he had every expectation that more would come in the near future.

So why then, Markus thought heavily, taking the man’s limp hand gently into his own. Why was his husband laying there in the hospital bed? Why was Connor the one suffering, struggling to stay alive?

Connor’s closed eyelids started to twitch. Markus braced himself. He’d awakened several times in the last couple of hours, disoriented and highly distressed until Markus broke past whatever demons he was reliving and was able to sooth him. This all usually only lasted for a few moments at most, and then he’d drop back off to sleep.

When Connor opened his eyes fully this time, there was that confusion, yes, but a clarity shining in the deep brown depths that made Markus sit up straighter and clasp his hand a little tighter. He stayed quiet though - as much as he wanted to ask a thousand questions about how he was feeling and if he needed anything in a single breath - and let Connor slowly look around as he oriented himself. The doctor had been stern about not startling him. She had gone at length about the “why’s” using a great deal of medical jargon that Markus would have a hard time understanding even if he wasn’t high strung and sleep deprived, but he understood the gist of it. Some old heart problems had been exacerbated by the injury, and it was imperative that Connor remained in a calm environment until he was more stable.

Several moments passed, with only the whirring of medical machines and the steady beep of the heart monitor as background noise, until Connor’s gaze finally found him. Something taught and painful, that Markus hadn’t even realized was inside him, let loose when recognition lit up in his eyes.

He parted his lips, but when only a pathetic croak came out (and a disgruntled brow furrow that Markus had to hold back a laugh at) Markus was quick to bring a small paper cup filled with ice chips to his mouth and gently guiding him into swallowing a few.

“Hi,” Connor murmured, after some amusing moments of him trying to hurry the ice chips into melting before giving up.

But as annoyed as he looked at all of these hindrances, all Markus could feel was a wave of relief so strong it was almost euphoric. Connor was awake, he was talking, he was coherent. Those were good signs, he was sure. It meant Connor had gotten past the worst of the injury. That recovery was over the hill and not across the ocean.

“Hey yourself,” Markus said, the words caught in his sigh as if all of his worries had been let out in that breath.

“Wha’ happened?”

Markus felt panic surge through him like lightning, fearing a sudden case of amnesia or some other issues with the brain (and goddamn all of his knowledge about surgeries stemming from media and hearsay!), but Connor weakly gesturing at himself immediately settled his nerves.

“You were...shot,” Markus said carefully. Connor showed no signs of being disturbed by the news, as Markus expected - what with him being ex-Military and all - but he would err on the side of caution until Connor was completely healed and not a second later. He made a noise for him to go on - he wanted the “how” he got shot. Markus grimaced. The entire incident had been insane, borderline ridiculous in it’s circumstantial, impossible nature. He was still trying to wrap his head around the situation, how something that started out so benign could end so catastrophically.

Connor had been making a follow up housecall for one of his clients at his veterinarian practice, Markus explained. It was just a simple check up on young Emma Phillips’ rabbit, Snowball, who had recently gotten some stitches on his hindleg. Everything was proceeding smoothly. Connor reassured Emma that Snowball would be a-ok, gave Mrs. Phillips’ the instructions on the ins and outs of post- surgery aftercare, and fed Snowball some treats for being a good bunny in general.

He was shaking Mrs. Phillips’ hand and giving Snowball a goodbye pet when all hell literally and figuratively exploded.

There was screaming, the sound of a gunshot, and then Mr. Phillips was stumbling out of the master bedroom - clutching his chest with blood pouring all over his front - where he collapsed face first onto the livingroom floor.

Emma was screaming and running towards Mr. Phillips before either Connor or Mrs. Phillips could move to stop her. Not long after Emma fell to her knees next to her dad’s body, another man came rushing out of the bedroom - Daniel, the Phillips’ long time babysitter - wild eyed and holding a gun.

From there the police report, news stations, and Mrs. Phillips’ own words all varied in detail, but from what Markus could gather out of all of that information (and he had hunted as much information as possible in those few hours when he’d seen his news and social media feed flooded with his husband’s face and received that awful call from the hospital. It was all he could do in those moments where he didn’t know if Connor was dead or not), Daniel had snatched up the little girl and, with the gun pressed to her head, headed out to the edge of their fenceless patio and threatened to hurl the both of them off of the roof.

Connor, miraculously, had managed to keep Daniel from making good on that threat by talking to him, while Mrs. Philips called the police. At some point during their back and forth Connor convinced him to let Emma go, but had gotten shot in the process.

Connor remained quiet at the end of his explanation, but he had his brow furrowed and was biting his lip in that way Markus knew he was over analyzing all of his previous actions, and finding himself wanting.

“God what a mess,” Connor finally said, voice soft from worry and exhaustion alike. “Do you...think I did the right thing?”

The police had arrived 30 minutes after the 911 call and, from what Mrs. Phillips had told him (voice thick, clutching her daughter close and unable to look him in the eye), Daniel had no intention of waiting for them.

“Yes,” Markus said easily, brushing back some stray curls that had fallen into Connor’s face. “I hate that it had to be you, but I know you did everything that you could.”

“But Mr. Phillips...I didn’t - ”

“There was nothing you could have done for him, Connor. You were there to see a client and nothing else - are you going to tell me that you had even an inkling that all of that...insanity was going to happen?”

“No b-but,” Connor’s voice broke, and there were shadows and an old pain in his eyes that Markus hadn’t seen in years. “I’m trained for this Markus…”

‘No! That isn’t your job anymore! You’re not just a human meat shield for everybody else!’ Markus wanted to snap, but the heart monitor beeping out of sync, as if in warning, the slight hitching of Connor’s breath, and the tears leaking unchecked from his eyes stayed his tongue. He swallowed back his rising anger, the target of which wasn’t even truly aimed at his ailing husband, but those horrible Child Soldier programs that Connor had been subjected to, and that the government liked to pretend didn’t exist.

(Every nightmare, every flashback, every incident where Connor questioned his worth as a human being that he suffered fueled Markus’ resolve to shut every one of them down.

And the more often it happened, the more Markus wondered if he should bother to do it legally.)

“You were operating on what information you had at the time,” Markus said, voice measured. Cold and factual. He didn’t particularly like speaking this way, like one of Connor’s old handlers, but this was the best method to reach him when he was in one of his guilt spirals.

Connor’s eyes were bright and attentive, almost fervent in his need to know how he could be better, which...God Markus hated that (he didn’t need to be better. He was so kind and just wanted to help and those monsters at the academy had done everything in their power to crush his spirit), but at least he was paying attention. He cupped his hand on his cheek and wiped another stray tear away with his thumb.

“You were not sent there to investigate the Phillips’. The only contractual obligation you had to them was taking care of their pet, which you did. There was nothing within those parameters that would allow you to foresee what happened. You did everything that you could,” Markus repeated. “And I’m so proud of you.”

Connor gave him a tremulous smile. His breathing finally evened out, and he looked a great deal calmer, if not like the last of his strength had been drained out of him. It seemed Markus had gotten through to him, for now at least.

Banging and clattering sounded outside the room. Both of them startled badly. Markus shot to his feet, instantly alert and moving between Connor’s bed and the door before he realized what he was doing. Connor sucked in air painfully between his teeth as he - Markus saw from his peripherals - tried to scramble into a sitting position. He was about to yell at Connor to lie back down, but the door slammed open.

In the doorway stood a man, a patient, judging by the hospital gown that exposed bandages - newly stained with blood - wrapped around his torso. The man’s chest was heaving and his teeth were bared. His hand was clutching the doorframe in a white knuckled grip, to keep him from falling over or lunging into the room was hard to say.

Markus recognized this man. It was impossible not to, with video clips from his standoff with Connor had dominated every newsfeed for the past 24 hours.

Daniel Park; in home nanny to the Phillips for six years, John Phillips’ murderer, the cause of some likely long term trauma to young Emma Phillips, and the one who had almost killed Markus’ husband.

“You bastard,” Daniel snarled. His eyes burned with fury, cutting past Markus to Connor like a homing device. “You said everything would be okay! You promised! You said - John isn’t - ” He choked back a sob. His face twisted - a mess of grief and desperation and rage, the feelings warring for dominance. It steadied on rage, as Daniel scowled fiercely and took a step forward.

Markus took his own step forward, getting in front of him so that the slightly shorter man would have to make an effort to see past him. He didn’t know what he was doing, squaring up against a known murderer like this. But it seemed that all of the pent up fear and horror and frustration had finally found an outlet, and it wasn’t about to start listening to reason.

“You need to leave, now.”

Daniel visibly flinched. Markus didn’t know that his voice could get that low and emit such a barely restrained promise of violence, but it did, and it put Daniel’s full attention on him now, which was what he wanted.

Daniel opened his mouth - Markus had no care of what he was about to say, because he was mentally giving him about ten seconds to comply with his demand before he lunged at the fucker - when two security guards and several orderlies finally arrived and grabbed him.

“LET ME GO!” Daniel screeched as they, and it did take every one of them to keep hold of the flailing man, dragged him away. “He has to pay! IT’S ALL HIS FAULT!! You lied to me Connor! YOU LIED TO ME YOU MONSTER...”

Markus intended to keep his eyes on the now empty doorway in case Daniel got free again (and he would be speaking to the Hospital or the DPD or whoever the fuck was responsible for letting an actual killer get within several miles of his husband so easily), but the pained gasping had him rushing back to Connor’s bed side.

Connor’s eyes were wide and glued to the spot where Daniel once was. Markus guided him back down into a laying position but no amount of soothing gestures could get him to calm down and ease his breathing. The heart monitor was beeping louder and faster as the seconds and minutes went on. Markus frantically pressed the emergency button over and over as his panic rose and the other machines started blaring with alarms and flashing red lights. He yelled for a nurse or a doctor, shifting in his seat as he felt torn between staying with Connor and searching for help.

He felt a hand grasp onto his weakly and looked back down at his husband, irrationally hoping that he would have some answers on what Markus should do. Instead, Connor’s breathing was slowing down, but in a horrible way, as if each gasp were a struggle, and all the machinery was still blaring as if nothing had changed, and was staring up at Markus with deep brown eyes that were slightly glazed.

And with a knowing resignation that terrified Markus to his core.

“I love you...so much,” he said, quietly, past hitching breaths.

“I love you too,” Markus said back quickly, as if he could run past his fear, the mounting dread of what was happening, if he spoke fast enough. “I love you. You’re fine. Someone’s coming right now, okay? Don’t worry.”

Connor just stared back him (like he was trying to memorize what he looked like no no no this wasn’t happening), no matter how many times he repeated that the doctor was coming and that he would be fine, it was going to be fine, it was going to be fine -

And then a little breath escaped Connor’s lips, and everything just stopped.

He stopped breathing. The machines stopped ringing. Markus stopped his mantra. The only sound left was the tone of the heart monitor. No longer beeping, just a long, monotonous drone, like someone was holding down one key on a piano. Going on and on and on…

There were people in the room now, doctors and nurses talking. They might have been shouting, but it sounded muffled over the loud one note drone of the heart monitor to Markus’ ears. He was shuffled out of his seat, or maybe he moved himself. He didn’t know. He felt heavy and coiled tight with tension at the same time. He caught a glimpse of a doctor using a defibrillator, and the green line on the monitor spiking a few times before straightening out again, and then he was suddenly sitting somewhere else. The waiting room, judging by the seats speckled with people, visiting loved ones, making appointments themselves.

Markus didn’t know how he got there. Or how much time had passed. He could have been in that seat, head in his hands and staring at the cracked linoleum floor - as it blurred and focused and blurred - for hours, days. The only thing he could hear, the only thing he could think about was that long drone, that one piano key. Nothing else. He couldn’t think of anything else. He couldn’t.

“...’cuse me? Excuse me, are you Markus Manfred?”

Somehow, the words penetrated through the drone. Somehow, Markus lifted his head up through the heavy gravity holding him down. A nurse stood before him, clipboard in hand and a neutral expression on her face. He cleared his throat, wincing at how raw it felt (had he been screaming?), but suddenly found that he had no energy to speak, so he nodded at her instead.

“It’s about your husband, Connor.”

#Detroit Become Human #RK1K #Markus x Connor #angst #I woke up today and chose violence #anonymous #Connor flat lines #Thank you anon this was hard to write #not my usual genre #a lovely challenge #emiliaf25🌻

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novannna · 4 years ago

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Same Sea, Same Soul, Same Heart

Chapter 8 Danna and Nova pine for eachother, while Nova’s plan falls into motion.

link to masterlist

link to chapter 7

Wc: 1723

Nova cracked her knuckles, and sat down.

“So, here’s the plan we have already,” she said to her crew. They were gathered around the deck, a table with a map pinned on it in front of them.

“I managed to pull a few strings within the castle, and the idea of a sea wedding was introduced to the prince. Apparently the mysterious bride was excited by the idea. So, the wedding should be here.” Nova moved a small red painted ship to a cove outside Gatlon City. “If we attack from here,” Nova said pushing a black ship in from the opposite direction of the city. “Then they will see us, and know that the wedding is being attacked. While rushing to their ships, we will attack the wedding. If possible, we take hostages to use as an exit ticket, but we can’t save everyone.” Nova smirked. “And while the armada rushes to save their prince and kings-” Nova shoved a fleet of ships across the maps. “Ace will slip into the palace, and conquer the city. Any questions?”

Her crew shook their heads.

Nova grinned. “Excellent. Details will be ironed out as new information comes in, but that’s the general gist of it.” Nova swept the ships into a small cloth bag, and rolled up the mat. “Now, don’t you all have work to do?” She shooed them off.

Moxie hurried up to her. “What if Danna’s there?” She asked.

“What about it?” Nova shrugged.

“...Well would you kill her?”

“If it comes to it, yes. I’d never put my ambitions on the line, just for a girl I don’t even like.”

“But what are your ambitions? You talk about them, but I don’t actually know what they are.”

Nova inhaled deeply. “I want to avenge my family. If the Renegades had given them the help they had needed, they would still be alive.”

“Nova, is that really what you want?”

“Yes. It is. Now, I’m busy, and so are you.”

Moxie caught her hand, jerking her to a stop. “Nova…”

In seconds, Nova had whirled around, and pressed a dagger to Moxie’s throat. “Don’t even start,” she growled. “And don’t touch me.”

Moxie sighed and looked down. “Yes Captain.”

Nova spun around, and stalked away. She hurried into her office, and swung the doors to her balcony open. The sea swayed below her, wild waves reaching up to slap the hull.

“Oh, why did I ever even think I had a chance with Danna Bell. Me, of all people. To her perfection, I am nobody. Why was I foolish to ever even begin to think that she might stoop low enough to love me. The scum of the earth. A thief. A liar. A traitor. A murderer.” Nova hugged her arms tight around her body. “Why did I fool myself?”

The clouds hung heavy, as if sensing Nova’s foul mood. She walked back inside, footsteps plodding heavily across the wood floor.

Nova closed her eyes, and inhaled deeply. She let all her thoughts collect, and when she exhaled, she let them all flow away. SHe cracked her eyes open, refusing to even think about Danna. She picked up a piece of paper, and a quill. Sitting down in her chair, Nova began to write a letter. Before she could overthink it, Nova stuffed it into a bottle, and tossed it overboard.

The odds of the person she actually wanted it to get finding it were next to nothing, but still Nova hoped. Hoped a foolish, stupid, pointless hope.

And she knew that. But still, Nova hoped.

---

Danna scurried down the vines outside her window, disguised under a heavy cloak. The guards didn’t even notice as she darted past them, using shadows as cover. It wasn’t surprising Nova’s crew had been able to steal her so easily. The men were incompetent. Completely, utterly incompetent.

Danna smiled to herself.

She hurried through the streets, gaining more and more speed as she neared her destination.

Finally, she was racing in a flat out sprint, coming to an abrupt halt inches away from the cold waves.

Her shoes sank into the sand, and Danna threw them off.

A laugh burbled out of her throat as her toes wiggled in the sand.

Danna screwed her eyes shut, and placed a single foot in the water.

It was cold, and gently lapped against her ankle. Danna laughed again.

She had never been in the sea like this before.

She stuck another foot in. Slowly she waded farther and farther, until her hips were under water.

It was silly, but Danna felt like she and Nova were connected through the waves.

They were in the same sea. Despite the distance between them, it was still the same water. It felt like it was watching over her. Keeping her safe.

Danna breathed in deeply, and bracing herself, dove under the waves.

The water covered her head, tugging her hair in different directions.

She moved her fingers through the water, just like she remembered frogs doing.

Danna moved forwards. She tried to smile, but water flooded her mouth. She accidentally swallowed a mouthful, and frantically tried to stand, only to realize she had floated away from the shore.

Danna frantically paddled her arms, somehow flailing her body back to the shore. She lay on the sand, coughing salt water up.

Danna collapsed down, lying on the ground, The stars twinkled far above her, and she wondered if Nova was looking at the same ones.

Danna smiled, and brushed a piece of hair from her face.

“I miss you, my love,” she whispered into the nothingness. “I hope that I can see you again someday. Even if it is when we are in the stars.”

---

Nova sighed, and collapsed onto her balcony. She looked up at the stars shining bright above her. The clouds had cleared, and now the thin moon hung high in the sky. She gazed at the shore, where she knew Danna was, probably safe in her bed, forgetting Nova had ever existed. Maybe she was getting ready for the wedding. Nova wasn’t sure whether or not she wanted Danna there. At least she could see Danna again.

But Danna would see her dark side. Her bad side. The brutal, violent, killing side. The side Nova wished didn’t exist.

Thinking about it, Nova definitely did not want Danna there. She didn’t want Danna to view her as even more bad.

Nova sighed heavily, and looked back to the stars.

She wondered if Danna was looking at the same ones. Probably not. But it was nice to think that she was.

“I miss you, my love,” Nova whispered to the sky, wishing Danna could hear her words. “I hope that I can see you again someday. Even if it is when we are in the stars.”

---

Danna slowly got up, her wet body caked with sand.

She looked back at the ocean one last time, and saw something glinting in the waves.

Danna walked over, and laughed when she saw a bottle floating by her feet. She bent down, and picked it up. A letter was tightly rolled up inside, safe and dry. Danna pried the bottle open, using her teeth to pry the cork out. It had swollen after spending hours in the sea.

Finally it popped free, and Danna slid the letter out. Carefully, she unrolled the parchment. Danna gasped, and fell to her knees as she read.

Dearest Danna,

I know this letter will most likely never reach you. It probably will never reach you. But I hope that the sea will care for me, as it has always done, and see that this bottle makes it into your hands. Danna, there is no amount of words I can write that could accurately phrase what I want to say to you. You could never understand how much you mean to me. I know that I’ve done bad things. I know I hurt you. And I don’t expect you to ever forgive me. I wouldn’t forgive me either. I want you to know that ever since we’ve parted, I have thought of you almost constantly. I love you, Danna Bell. And I have to live with the fact that I sent you away. Because I was scared. That was the only reason. I was a coward. I left you. I couldn’t even bear to see your face so I drugged you. I’ve done terrible things, but that was the first thing that truly made me feel guilty. I’m sorry I was such a coward.

If you are reading this, then maybe the universe has decided I can be saved. Maybe it did give me a scrap of luck for once in my life. I’ll think of you for the rest of time, because you are my heart.

I love you.

Nova

Danna let out a sob, and pressed the letter right to her chest. She hadn’t been an idiot. She hadn’t been a foolish, naive noble. There was a chance for them to be together.

And Nova has thrown it all away.

For a second, Danna was angrier than she ever had been. But the more she thought about it, the more sense it made. Nova had an entire life. She was scared, and confused, and she wasn’t about to throw it all away for someone she was supposed to hate. Unlike Danna, Nova actually had something left to lose. Of course she sent Danna away.

And Danna could never be mad at someone she loved that fully. Danna could never be mad at Nova. No matter how many terrible crimes she did, Danna would always forgive her. That was the way love worked. You always return to the arms you know best.

“I got your letter,” Danna whispered. “I promise, if I see you in this life, or the next, I won’t let anything tear us apart. Never again.”

---

The two girls sat near the sea, looking at the same sky, wondering if the other knew the depths of their love. The lengths they would go for the other.

And neither of them knew that the other wondered the same thing back.

They just sat, looking at the sky, wishing on every star they saw, that there was a way for them to be together again.

Tag list: @novissa @thepurpledragon4444 @phobidawg @rvbell @redassassin @ifyouhadntbutyoudid (let me know if you want to be added/taken off!!!)

#Same Sea Same Soul Same Heart #nova artino #danna bell #Novanna #nobell #wlwrenegades #Renegades #archenemies #Supernova #renegades au #renegades fanfic #my writing

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kuriquinn · 6 years ago

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Wayward Son [SPN Fusion]

The Usual Disclaimers ETC (Also, Supernatural doesn’t belong to me either)

Author’s Note: So I didn’t actually write this recently, cuz I’m still not having a great time of it writing-wise, but I had outlined it like two months ago and just fleshed it out today.

Warning(s): Appropriation of dialogue from the spn episode Lazarus Rising.

Dedicate to: All my followers who are part of other fandoms than the SS fandom :)

The only light in the warehouse comes from naked lightbulbs hanging and spluttering from the roof, loose wires winding down the walls to the generator.

Kakashi draws an obscure character on the cement floor with a spray can, one of countless symbols on the ground, walls and ceiling. Sasuke frowns at the nearest ones, studying them for a clue as to their meaning.

“I’m not sure I’ve seen most of these symbols,” he remarks.

“Traps and talismans,” Kakashi murmurs, adjusting his bandana around his face to keep the fumes at bay. “I had to dig deep into mythologies all over the world for some of these.” He glances up. “How are you doing?”

“The usual fare,” Sasuke replies, nodding at his stash of stakes, knives, tire irons, silver bullets and salt. “I suspect we can catch or kill anything I have ever heard of.”

“I still think this is a bad idea.”

Sasuke doesn’t reply.

He knows exactly what Kakashi’s thoughts on the matter are. If he’s being honest with himself—which he has always actively avoided—he feels the same. There’s nothing good that can come out of this, but he has learned better than most that ignorance can kill you just as much as knowledge.

His head feels too full, too busy since he awoke in an unmarked grave somewhere in Shiga Prefecture, surrounded by a field of dead earth and trees. He doesn’t remember Hell—it’s a small mercy, and one he doubts will last much longer, given his luck. All he remembers is being torn apart by the hellhound, and then waking up and looking for Kakashi, and then Itachi. His reunion with Itachi, and his brother being…different.

Sasuke knows Itachi is hiding something but getting him to open up will take time; it has never been easy to get him to talk, and there’s somehow too much distance between them to reach him right now. He suspects at least some of that is residual guilt—Itachi is the oldest, he was supposed to protect Sasuke and find a way to save him from Hell, but he couldn’t—and perhaps resentment of Sasuke for putting him in the predicament in the first place.

For bargaining his soul to keep his older brother alive.

But it’s been twenty-four hours since he’s been back, and he can’t do anything to deal with Itachi just now, and he’s never been good at waiting. With all the strange things that have been happening since he dug himself out of his grave—the high-pitched scream following him around, that seer Kin getting her eyes burned from her skull, the yōkai at the restaurant being too afraid to even try to kill him, the burning hand-shaped brand on his right shoulder—he wants answers, and he wants them now.

He wants to know why this—Sakura, Kin called her before her face erupted into flame—is hunting him.

He doesn’t say any of this to Kakashi, of course, and the man who all-but raised him and Itachi knows better than to prompt him. He simply nods, reluctant, and treads over to a rickety table nearby to take a pitch of some foul-smelling powder and sprinkle it in a large bowl.

Smoke wafts in the air, and Kakashi begins to chant in an ancient Chinese dialect; Sasuke doesn’t know what it means, but he’s familiar enough with most incantations to get the gist of it. He half-expects there to be an explosion, or the air to vibrate and twist the way it does when a ghost materializes, but nothing happens.

The smoke keeps billowing until it vanishes completely, and the warehouse remains empty.

Kakashi seems unsurprised, and hoists himself up to sit on the table, drawing a battered paperback novel out of his pocket.

“Is now really the time?” Sasuke grumbles, scowling at the lurid cover.

“It could be a while,” Kakashi answers, opening up the book. “For all we know, whatever it is that’s been following you around is out of phase with this dimension and needs time to materialize. Or it could be a yōkai created by whatever spell brought you back and is simultaneously existing and not existing. Sort of a Schrodinger’s Demon.”

He’s worse than Itachi when he gets started, Sasuke grumbles to himself. Out loud, however, he prompts, “If that’s the case, wouldn’t it be best to be prepared when it shows up?”

Kakashi’s attention remains glued to the bodie-ripper, but he lifts his rifle with his right hand, and Sasuke knows there’s no point to arguing with him. Besides, even when he’s supposedly immersed in his books, Kakashi has the best reflexes Sasuke has ever seen outside of the Uchiha family.

Rolling his eyes, Sasuke leans back against the table, arms folded and stares at the sealing circles, bordered by jumon incantations and mantras, and surrounding the Devil’s Traps on the floor.

What is there that exists that wouldn’t get trapped by that?

“Are you sure you didn’t get the ritual wrong?” Sasuke asks twenty minutes late when still nothing has occurred.

Kakashi glances up from his book, raising an eyebrow at him as if he’s just been insulted. Sasuke doesn’t back down—he’s said much worse to the older man in his time—and Kakashi shrugs.

“It’s a dead language,” he replies. “Older than Buddhism. One that isn’t spoken anymore. It’s possible I mispronounced something, but that shouldn’t affect the invocation itself.”

“But how can you be sure—”

A loud rattling shakes the roof.

“I’m sure,” Kakashi remarks, jumping to his feet with his rifle. Sasuke checks the two semi-automatics in his shoulder-holster, then puts his hand to the katana at his waist. The demon-slaying Kusanagi has killed every supernatural beast it’s come up against, and so it stands to reason he might need it now.

The air is charged, like it might be just before a bolt of lightning arcs through it, and there’s a thundering sound moving closer. When it hits up against the far-end of the warehouse, the walls themselves tremble as if they are about to fold inward. Before they can do so, however, the wide door slams open.

The gust of wind that emanates from behind her makes Sasuke’s eye’s water, and he blinks rapidly to keep his eyes on the figure that has materialized in the doorway.

That’s…not what I expected.

The creature has the form of a petite woman, dwarfed by the giant doors still straining back against their wall. Her hair is the colour of cherry blossoms, a somewhat bizarre contrast to her pantsuit, tie and what appears to be an immaculate white lab coat.

She glides toward them with a slow, deliberate ease that is marred only by the light bulbs that shatter above her as she passes, raining sparks down on her.

As she gets within their range, Sasuke and Kakashi both open fire, intending to slow her down.

It becomes apparent almost immediately that the bullets have no effect, and so Sasuke tosses his semi-automatic to one side and bends into a stance for battōjutsu.

“Who are you?” he bites out, hand poised and thumb ready to flick his sword from his sheath.

The woman cocks her head to one side, as if confused by the question. “I am the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition.”

“Allow me to thank you, then.”

He darts forward, drawing Kusanagi and slicing the blade upward and across her abdomen, before reversing the blade to shove through her chest. He waits for the flicker of electricity to sizzle through her body, the sign of the blade destroying its host, but nothing happens.

She doesn’t even flinch.

He is sure of this because his move brings him within inches of her face, close enough to observe that her eyes are a startlingly clear green for a Japanese woman. Something about them makes him release his hold on the sword and jump back.

What is she?

The woman considers the blade sticking out of her front, and then slowly pulls it out. There is no blood on it.

As the sword clatters uselessly to the floor, Kakashi attacks, charging forward while shooting his rifle point-blank at her face. With a movement Sasuke barely sees, she slides forward, taking hold of the weapon and using it to draw close, before touching the side of Kakashi’s head.

He crumples to the ground while Sasuke’s heart clenches, and the woman then looks up at him beatifically.

“We need to talk, Sasuke-kun,” she tells him. “Alone.” He swallows painfully, eyes flicking to Kakashi. “Your friend is alive.”

“Who are you?” Sasuke asks again.

“Sakura.”

“I figured that out already. What are you?”

“I have been called many things. Tennyo. Apsara. Angel of the Lord.”

“There’s no such thing,” Sasuke says immediately.

“Oh, Sasuke-kun…” she sighs, sounding disappointed and comforting at the same time. “This is your weakness. You have no faith.”

Lightning flashes—from where, he’s not sure, because they are still inside the warehouse—and he watches in astonishment as the shadows of two massive wings stretch out against the wall, like a bird about to take flight. An aura of unquestionable power radiates from the woman before her, and for a moment he thinks he sees something on her forehead gleam, and black designs crisscross around her body.

The electric light fades away and the image disappears, leaving the small woman before him, looking human but not.

“I apologise for earlier,” she says, looking contrite. “My real voice can be a little overwhelming to humans.”

It takes a beat for him to realise what she’s talking about, and he remembers the high-frequency, glass shattering scream that had him bleeding from his ears for several hours the day before. “That was you talking?”

A little overwhelming?

“Yes. I am sorry. Normally, certain people—special people—can perceive my true form and my true voice. I believed you would be one of them, but I was wrong.”

“And what form are you now?” Sasuke demands, flicking his eyes over her form again. “Holy hospital CEO?”

“This…this is a vessel,” she replies, sliding her hands down the curves of her body in a way that a human might intend as seductive, but comes off as clinical.

“You mean you’re possessing that girl.”

“She is a devout woman. She prayed for this.”

“Bullshit. No one volunteers to give up their body,” Sasuke snaps. “What are you really?”

“I told you.”

“Even if I believed you, why would a celestial being pull me out of Hell?”

“Good things do happen, Sasuke-kun.”

“Not in my experience.”

In his experience, everything always goes to shit just when they seem to be getting better. He and his brother haven’t been able to catch a break since the fire that burned their mother to death on the ceiling of his nursery. The fact that he survived as long as he did before getting himself killed was dumb luck.

It has always been Itachi doing everything for him and protecting him. If anyone should be saved, should be given a second chance at life, it’s Itachi. Itachi, who was happy in law school before Sasuke dragged him off to look for their missing father, who was cursed with a demon’s powers, who had his spine severed right in front of Sasuke which led him to make the deal in the first place.

Sasuke clenches his fists, and Sakura frowns, cocking her head to one side. Those luminous green eyes fix upon him again, and he has the uncomfortable feeling she can see right through him.

“What is the matter?” she asks him. “You do not think you deserve to be saved?”

“Why’d you do it?” he asks harshly, though it comes out in a whisper.

She smiles then, pleased at the question. Reaching out—farther into his personal space than he allows even his family—she settles her left hand firmly on his right shoulder. Immediately his entire body feels bathed in light, burning from the inside out, but it’s not a painful sensation so much as disquieting. There’s a very real, very terrifying sense that this woman—this creature---knows every molecule of his being.

When she pulls away, he is torn between leaning in and scuttling away from her as fast as possible.

At last, she tells him in a serene voice, “I saved you because it has been commanded from on high. Because you have a greater purpose.”

Staring into those clear, sure green eyes, Sasuke almost believes it.

I realise it’s an odd choice to have Sakura as Castiel, but I find that comparing Team 7 and Team Free Will, she has the most in common with Castiel. Also, the only brothers of consequence in Naruto are Itachi and Sasuke, so they had to be the Winchesters. I would probably make Naruto Crowley. You know, since he’s BFFs with Sasuke/Dean lol.

Don’t think I’m going to go anywhere with it, but the idea wouldn’t leave me alone :P

栗

#sasusaku #rating: t #sfw #fusion au #naruto fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #uchiha sasuke #hatake kakashi #haruno sakura #spn #drama #angst #prelude to ust

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stillwinterair · 6 years ago

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OC Aesthetics: Josephine “Bluejay” Wood, Paranormal Investigator

There’s a sky underground Where the sparrows chase me down ‘Cause there’s nowhere left for me to go. Well, I’m alone, but I’m alive. You can make me dance, but don’t make me dive Into the unknown world below.

I’ve been traveling on this land Where my feet don’t understand The red rising ripples of the sea. And in this place I call home, The sky is always painted gold With the help of a brush and a sycamore tree.

In the woods where I sleep, The winds are resting with the deep. Violet flowers singing songs of the tambourine. They sing the songs of grace, Their hands over my face, Crying tears that are swallowed by the ground so green.

This character is the result of years of different character concepts all congealing into one. Josie Wood--better known as Bluejay, because of the blue hair and the J-name--became something of a folk legend, her many names and deeds whispered on winds which carry down American highways. Her stories go back decades, maybe even a century or more: Songs of the Vagabond with the compass in her brain, pointed ever toward the strange and otherworldly.

She is many things to many people. To some, a hero; to others, a villain; to most, a whisper in the night, a story heard ages past and long-forgotten. To Bluejay herself, she’s a traveler, a private investigator, a writer, an adventurer, with a van and no past nor plan. She drives where the winds take her, always into trouble and after the paranormal, solving problems wherever she goes in return for a handful of cash, a bed for the night, a hot meal... or, if she’s lucky, at least two of the three. Maybe someday, she’ll find a home, and folks to call her family. Maybe not. She’ll cross that bridge when she gets to it, so long as she doesn’t burn it first.

Fate follows her. Or maybe it’s she who follows fate. Phantoms stir, beasts emerge, and myths and gods alike rise to greet her. As their tales spin far beyond her grasp, she tries to keep grounded and does what she can to help folk. Mostly, though, she’s only after enough cash for her next meal, a cup of coffee, and a tank of gas.

Her tales are those of being lost and found again. Of the little things in life. Of crushing, precious time. Of friendships found and fleeting. Of ages and stories lost. Of cryptids and gods in the age of modern America. As planned, the Song of the Vagabond is to be a collection of stories which range from adventure to comedy to horror. It’s about the shadows that fall between the lights of civilization. It’s about a woman with no past and no home, with nothing but an apparent destiny she never chose, scraping and clawing to find something for herself: meaning, home, relationships, agency, and so on. It’s about the god damned weirdness of Americana, and it’s about adventure, and it’s about trust and finding family and being who you want to be.

Here’s a little twelve-song YouTube playlist I made for her. I have a much bigger one on Spotify, but this one’ll give you the gist.

Aaaand her Pinterest board, as well.

#long post #oc: bluejay #song of the vagabond

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angryteapot · 6 years ago

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Book One

Book One // Book Two // Book Three // Book Four // #tea reads Masterlist

I Have No Mouth, and I Must Scream: Stories (The Harlan Ellison Collection)

~ Harlan Ellison

Synopsis: This collection consists of seven “groundbreaking and inventive tales that probe the depths of mortal experience...” all packed into one relatively thin book. These short stories are unrelated, incredibly unique, and slightly disturbing. I was riveted from start to finish, and my morbid self loved every moment of reading this.

The title in itself is fascinating.

A/N: For those of you who missed my intro post, Here’s the gist of this thing: I’m trying to read more books this year, so I’ve taken to documenting them and writing out some of my favorite quotes from whatever I’m reading! Once I finish a book, I’ll make a post with a summary of the books and the quotes I like best!

If you’re interested in new reads or just quotes, and would like to be tagged, send me an ask or dm! If you have any reading recommendations, send them my way!

If you wanna blacklist these posts, I’ll be tagging them #tea reads

I’m always up for a discussion on whatever I post, or life in general, so come talk to me! Have questions, theories, complaints, deep thoughts? Come talk to me! x ~ Tea <3

*Synopsis and Quotes for each tale are below the cut!

[I HAVE NO MOUTH, AND I MUST SCREAM]

Synopsis: In an post-apocalyptic world, four men and one woman are all that is left of the human race. The cause of the apocalypse? An AI programmed to wage war on behalf of its creators. The AI (named AM) became self-aware and turned against humanity.

The five humans are held captive and tortured in a cyber world created by the AI, doomed to an eternity of horrors invented by the hateful and sadistic machine.

Quotes: Unless stated otherwise, quotes are taken from Ted, the Narrator.

“We couldn’t even see it, but there was the ponderous impression of bulk, heaving itself toward us. Great weight was coming at us, out o the darkness, and it was more a sense of pressure, of air forcing itself into a limited space, expanding the invisible walls of a sphere.”

“HATE. LET ME TELL YOU HOW MUCH I’VE COME TO HATE YOU SINCE I BEGAN TO LIVE.” ~ AM

“AM could not wander, AM could not wonder, AM could not belong.”

“He withdrew, murmuring to hell with you. And added, brightly, but then you’re there, aren’t you.”

““Give us weapons!” [Nimdok] demanded... and there were two crude sets of bows and arrows, and a water pistol, lying on the cold deckplates. I picked up a set. Useless.”

“In that instant, I felt terribly calm. Surrounded by madness... surrounded by everything but death, I knew death was our only way out... Not total defeat, but at least peace. I would settle for that.”

“There was an eternity beat of soundless anticipation...”

“Outwardly: dumbly, I shamble about, a thing that could never have been known as human, a thing whose shape is so alien a travesty that humanity becomes more obscene for the vague resemblance. Inwardly: alone. Here. Living. under the land, under the sea, in the belly of AM, whom we created because our time was badly spent and we must have known unconsciously that he could do it better.”

“I have no mouth. And I must scream.”

[BIG SAM WAS MY FRIEND]

Synopsis: Johnny Lee, the Narrator, is part of a circus composed of normies and enhanced folks. But this is no ordinary circus - the Teeper Circus travels the galaxy, performing for royalty and commoners on various settled worlds. Johnny Lee tells the story of how his friend, Big Sam, died searching for his true love. Big Sam’s lady love died on their home planet, but he says that she went to Heaven. And Heaven? Well Big Sam believes that Heaven is a planet and he’s determined to find it, and his lady love, as he travels the galaxy with Johnny Lee and the circus.

Quotes: Unless stated otherwise, quotes are taken from Johnny Lee, the Narrator.

“So what, you can always find another friend someplace around.”

“... had left her a jangle-nerved, heaped-up body of hate and fury.”

“... brought to the edge of tragedy...”

“... there was a deep, infinite sadness about him that sometimes made me want to cry...”

[EYES OF DUST]

Synopsis: In a “perfect” world, a blind man and a woman with a mole on her cheek do not belong. On planet Topaz, a world dedicated to beauty, imperfection cannot be endured. Broomall and Ordak, the blind man and the moley woman, married and lived on the outskirts of Topaz. They started their life together, and soon had a child - a boy named Person. The boy was defective, blind and grotesque, and was hidden away by his parents in a locked cellar. This is the tale of Person, the boy with sunken pockets for eyes... eyes of dust.

Quotes: Unless stated otherwise, quotes are taken from the Narrator. (none of the characters are the narrator in this tale)

“Each... was a note in a great symphony of perfection.”

“I have my shadows and my colors. And there is the smell of time passing. I need nothing more.” ~ Person

“The eyes of dust... The gray of storm clouds. The gray of feelings most unhappy, and of death. The eyes that seemed to see so deeply, yet could see nothing.”

“First there was light, and then there was no-light. First there was heat, and then there was no-heat. And - First there was love, and then there was no-love. But in its place did not come the absence of love, the emptiness that the going of the light and heat had left. Another moved to take its place. In its place came hate.”

“But the night sky rang out with the stifled and fading shrieks that would never entirely pass. And as the clouds passed before two of the moons, loosing so much like the eyes of dust, it was clear that Topaz had cursed itself with ugliness.”

[WORLD OF THE MYTH]

Synopsis: On a crash-landed spaceship with his companions Iris Crosse and Wayne Rennert, Cornfeld (the Narrator) must survive the unknown planet until a rescue craft comes. But the planet is inhabited - by a colony of massive ant-like creatures that twist and reflect deep, dark thoughts and mind images. Will the three crash survivors stay alive long enough to be rescued, or will they succumb to the madness shown to them by the ants?

* Warning: rape is mentioned and quickly/vaguely depicted in a scene or two, in case anyone was planning on finding the book and reading.

if anyone is triggered by rape, please skip this part. my chosen quotes are not about the horrendous act, but a few could be mistaken for that.

Quotes: Unless stated otherwise, quotes are taken from Cornfeld, the Narrator.

“... her face masked over with an expression of pain and torture.” - in reference to a hallucination after the crash.

“There had been death and sadness unable to be borne. A dam had burst inside her, and the world had lost all light... The misery, the aching, the loneliness and the hunger for no-sorrow.” - in reference to a creature-induced vision of a sorrowful being.

“The devils disappeared and a great death’s head was there, unmoving, with a quizzical expression on its fleshless face.”

“Ask them what you are. Ask them to show you what you are inside, the image of yourself.” ~ Cornfeld to Rennert

“The ants were all darkness and life ... and truth.”

“... They showed him the essence of himself.” ~ Cornfeld to Iris

[LONELYACHE]

Synopsis: Paul Reed, a lonely and bitter divorcee, tries to fill the angry void in his life. In a dark corner of his cold apartment, there is the beginnings of a nightmarish monster, and the monster grows with each sinful action Paul takes. This is the story of how the monster takes form.

Quotes: Unless stated otherwise, quotes are taken from Paul Reed, the Narrator.

“... hearing the vapors of night and time and existence passing by without purpose or validity.”

“... and timorously, fawn-like in a deep foreboding forest, it came...”

Genesis refers to sin that coucheth at the door, or croucheth at the door, and so this was no new thing, but old, so very old, as old as the senseless acts that had given it birth, and the madness that was causing it to mature, and the guilty sorrow - the lonelyache - that would inevitable cause it to devour itself and all within its sight.”

“But commercialism is the last sinkhole of love, and when it is reached, bu paths of desperation and paths of cruel, musused emotions - all hope is gone. There is no return save by miracles, and there are no more miracles for the common among common men.”

“How I wish I could forget Those happy yesteryears, That have left A rosary of tears.”

“They trembled there together in a nervous symbiosis, each deriving something from the other. He was covered with a thin film of horror and despair, a terrible lonelyache that twisted like smoke, thick and black within him. The creature giving love, and he reaping heartache, loneliness.”

[DELUSIONS FOR A DRAGON SLAYER]

Synopsis: Warren Glazer Griffin, a painfully ordinary man, dies an unexpected death. And this tale is one of his peculiar journey in an unexpectedly strange afterlife.

Quotes: Unless stated otherwise, quotes taken from Warren Glazer Griffin, the Narrator.

“Know thyself? If I knew myself, I’d run away.” ~Goethe

“... the air was alive with multi-colored whispers of delight.”

“Because it is dreams, special dreams, in which you exist. What you have to do is live up to them.”

“No, listen, please, because after this, all the magic stops, and you have to do it alone.” ~ The Wizard

“It was all the fireworks of another universe, just once hurled into an onyx sky, left to burn away whatever life was possible.”

“The colors came from the air and the island and the world itself, which hushed and hurried across the world to here, to meet when they were needed...”

[PRETTY MAGGIE MONEYEYES]

Synopsis: Kostner is a sad, lonely wash-up who’s down on his luck in Las Vegas. Maggie Moneyeyes was the woman that died at The Chief, the silver dollar slot machine at a casino. Kostner uses the last dollar to his name, on the very machine that now houses Maggie’s soul. This is a tale of love and treachery, an old game that goes way back.

Quotes: Unless stated otherwise, quotes are taken from Kostner, the Narrator.

“▪️ out of fog ▪️out of weightlessness ▪️ suddenly total cellular knowledge... ▪️ billows of forever ▪️ edges of the world as they splintered... ▪️ trapped and doomed alone in a mist-eaten nowhere”

“Now looking out from within, from inside the limbo that had become her own purgatory, Maggie was trapped... The prison of her final desires, where she had wanted to be, completely trapped in that last instant of life between life/death. Maggie, gone inside; all soul now; trapped for eternity in the cage soul of the soulless machine. Limbo. Trapped.”

“I’ve been waiting for you. A long time, I’ve been waiting for you...” ~ Maggie

“It’s on a cosmic scale of improbability with three dark planets crashing into our sun within the next twenty minutes.” ~ Jules Hartshorn (Casino Owner)

““Think nothing of it.” “I’m afraid that will be impossible.” “A lot of impossible things are happening lately.” ~ Kostner, Jules Hartshorn (Casino Owner)

“... blue eyes deep as the past...”

“Then it unrolled for Kostner. The past unrolled and he saw who he was. He saw himself alone... For years and months and days and hours, with no one... But no one to whom he could cleave, and cling, and belong. It was that way till Susie, and with her he had found light. He had discovered the scents and aromas of a spring that was eternally one day away. He had laughed, really laughed, and known with her it would at last be all right. So he had poured all of himself into her, giving her everything; all his hopes, his secret thoughts, his tender dreams; and she had taken them, taken him, all of him, and he had known for the first time what it was to have a place to live, to have a home in someone’s heart. It was all the silly and gentle things he laughed at in other people, but for him it was breathing deeply of wonder.”

“The final loneliness ...”

And that concludes Book One, my lovelies! If you managed to read through even part of this and found a quote you liked, my heart will be happy.

Thanks for stopping by my blog! x

~ Tea <3

#tea reads #book one #the harlan ellison collection #harlan ellison #book #books #quote #quotes #i have no mouth and i must scream #big sam was my friend #world of the myth #lonelyache #delusion for a dragon slayer #pretty maggie moneyeyes

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shima-draws · 8 years ago

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Here it is...the AU I’ve been hinting at lately!!

It’s called Tied Dimensions! I’d give you a basic summary but it’s all already written out below, so you can just read that and get the gist :’) I just think the whole concept is super exciting so.

Read and enjoy!! (It’s from Keef’s POV btw)

My world ended about two hundred and fifty years ago.

We call it World’s Terminus. An unexplained phenomena that plunged the world into darkness and terror, without any prior warning. Nobody saw it coming. Therefore, nobody was prepared. There isn’t much one can do when the world begins to fall apart around them, except run and cower and hide—that is, if you can even make it that far.

I’m what comes after World’s Terminus—what remains of humanity from our planet’s collapse. Billions of people were wiped out from the incident, and the rest were left to rebuild society and start anew. Not that it was easy, considering everything important had been destroyed in the turmoil.

The one really sad thing about my existence is that, even though the world’s population is alarmingly low and needs all the life it can get, I was abandoned. Cast out. Not needed.

I live at a dingy old orphanage on the edge of a broken town, along with the rest of humanity’s unwanted. We’re a gang of angry, depressed misfits who curse what our world has come to, and wonder where it all went wrong. Not that we’d be able to change the outcome, anyway. It’s way too late for that.

This world no longer has any color, not that anybody alive remembers what having color is like. Everything green died, the sky turned a murky gray and all life seemed to be sucked out of the ground like a vacuum. There are still a few artifacts left behind of the world that was before World’s Terminus—but I’ve never seen them. They’re kept in the highest places in society, where the rich and elite live clinging on to the edges of their sanity. Old photographs, paintings and images from the past, the only things left in this world that still have color.

Not that everything has turned completely monotone, of course not. But anything that was once vibrant has none of that brilliance anymore, leaving us in a town full of grays, blacks and browns, and not much else. I have no idea what the color red looks like. Isn’t that utterly tragic?

I spend my days ostracized by the bullies of the orphanage, and ordered around by our so-called caretakers. None of them are kind people, so I’ve learned to do what I’m told without complaint or face beatings.

Any hope I might have had towards escaping this godforsaken place vanished years and years ago. People don’t want to adopt children, they’re too busy figuring out how to survive, how to keep their heads straight on a planet that hasn’t seen the sun in over two-hundred years. Our skies are always gray now, our whole lives are gray. What a boring, dull color.

I’m almost eighteen now. In a few months, I’ll finally be able to break free and cast off, off to some place that doesn’t reek of death and sadness, and at least try to find a place for myself in this world. I’ll no longer have to bow down to the obligations of the people who have raised me, and I won’t have to ever see the twisted, ugly faces of my peers who think they’re everything, when they’re actually nothing.

On the days where I feel more alone and angry than ever, I sneak out the back window and go exploring through the ruins of World’s Terminus.

Not much has happened to our planet after it came to an abrupt end, so things have stayed in tact quite well over the centuries. Old buildings from years and years ago still stand, and it’s in these buildings I like to poke around and see what I can find. The place I frequent most often is the old school building, a couple miles away from the orphanage.

Whenever I walk through the dusty halls and abandoned classrooms I feel this strange sense of nostalgia wash over me, and I desperately wish I could have had a normal life, attending school and making actual friends. My “brothers” and “sisters” at the orphanage don’t count. I’m not sure what having friends is like, but whatever relationship we happen to share is definitely not that.

It’s on one of these days when I come back from my adventures that everything I knew gets turned upside down. Literally.

There’s a visitor at the orphanage, which rarely ever happens at all. That’s the first sign that something is up. Secondly, and much to my immense shock, this stranger is dressed in the strangest clothing I’ve ever seen, and—there’s color. Some weird hue I’ve never seen before, except maybe reflected in the shadows of my eyes. Purple…that’s what I’ve been told what color my eyes are. Or, at least, dark purple.

The stranger’s eyes light up upon seeing me, and I only have moments to take in his short black hair and healthy skin tone before he grabs my hand and shakes it eagerly.

“You’re Keith, right? Keith Kogane.”

He tells me he wants me to participate in a special project with him. Doesn’t really give any more details than that, even when I ask him who he is or where he comes from. The only thing I manage to get is his name—Shiro. Takashi Shirogane, but his friends call him Shiro. So this guy has friends…

Needless to say I’m skeptical, I mean, who wouldn’t be? This isn’t some sort of fairy tale where I’m the chosen hero who gets tossed into a grand adventure trying to save a princess or some bullshit. This world doesn’t work that way. It’s too dreary and lifeless for something that magical to happen to me of all people.

In the end, though, my curiosity wins over my suspicions, so I eventually decide to go with him.

If this turns out to be some sort of plot to lure me out and kill me, fine. It’s not like I have much to live for, anyway. I’ve just been biding my time until something happens—either I die from some tragic accident or finally get out of that hell house of an orphanage and try to make it on my own.

To my confusion, Shiro takes me to the old school building. A sense of apprehension builds up in my gut, telling me that this might be a murder attempt after all. Should I make a run for it?

“I’ve chosen you because you’re special, Keith,” Shiro explains as we weave our way through the halls, kicking up dust as we go. Oh, great. Not this bullshit again.

“You have an ability that not many other people have. That’s why…” He pauses to let out a soft laugh. “Well, you’ll see in a bit. I don’t want to overwhelm you right away.”

We reach the door to the courtyard, where we come to a halt. I gaze at the taller man curiously, with his sharp eyes and strong jaw, and wonder who the hell he is. Maybe he’s just crazy. Maybe he’s some elite bastard who went off the rails and decided to abduct a teenager to play games with him.

Shiro grabs the handle of the door and pulls, which is obviously stupid because these doors open outward, so you have to push them—

A weird click sounds. Shiro jiggles the door handle and, suddenly, slides the door to the right.

What. The fuck? Since when did it ever do that?

“Alright, here goes.” He gives me a smile and with a final tug, pulls it open.

I step out onto the other side of the courtyard door. What I find there is something that immediately brings me to tears.

More colors than I’ve ever seen before in my life greet my eyes. They bloom and blossom and explode in such a vibrancy that it makes me dizzy, crowding in all around and putting pressure on my skull.

The courtyard is teeming with life—grass sways in the wind, there’s the sound of laughter coming from somewhere off in the distance, and an enormous tree rustles above my head, scattering leaves here and there. I look up and see the sun for the first time, blinding and dazzling, so very bright.

It all sort of happens too quickly for me to process, so after instantaneously bursting into tears, I have to crouch down and bury my face in my knees. It’s too much. Too much information, too many colors I don’t know, it’s so vibrant and beautiful—

“Is that Shiro’s pet project?”

“Hey, n—what did you do to him, Shiro?”

Shiro sounds apologetic and slightly panicked. “I didn’t think—he’s overwhelmed. It’s too much for him to process. I’m sorry, Keith.”

“Aw, the poor thing!”

“Well yeah, if you bring him in from a world with no color to this he’s gonna freak out, dude. Sensory overload, you know?”

“Matt’s gonna kick your ass for this.”

“Keith, are you alright?”

My head is pounding and the world as I know it is swaying in front of my eyes, but I nod. Yes. I’m more than alright, I just—

“Hey, take it easy there, man. It’s a lot to take in, right?”

A voice sounds right next to my ear, melodical and soft. I can’t help but peek through my fingers a little.

Sitting in front of me is the most gorgeous human being I’ve ever laid my eyes on. And maybe that’s biased, coming from me, but it’s the truth. Sun-kissed skin and dark brown hair, a mischievous expression and lanky but strong limbs, and once again the weirdest clothing I’ve ever seen are what makes up this mysterious yet beautiful boy that has come into my midst. And the most astonishing thing of all are his eyes, a couple shades darker than the sky. I don’t know what color they are, but I think it’s my favorite now.

The boy tilts his head and beams at me, flashing a pair of pearly white teeth. Around him his friends all smile down at me, bursting, bursting with color. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything more breathtaking.

This is…this is…

“Welcome to our world, Keith!”

This is World’s Variegation.

AND THAT’S IT!! TIED DIMENSIONS :’)

To sum things up: Keith lives in a world after the apocalypse, where there is no life, no meaning, and no color. One day Shiro shows up to the orphanage he lives at and takes him into an alternate dimension through the courtyard door that is teeming with life and color, things Keith’s never seen before, so he sorta has a breakdown and gets suuuuper overwhelmed. Like Lance said. Sensory overload it’s too much for his brain (which usually only sees dark colors and shades of gray) to take haha Keith learns that he is a Traverser, someone who can travel between dimensions, or rather what he calls World’s Terminus and World’s Variegation (I know the definition usually refers to plants, but I mean the definition as in “diversity of colors” so yeah haha). Shiro has chosen him to take part in the TDP, Tied Dimensions Project, which serves as a basis for research on both worlds and their connection to each other. However!! Like all of my AUs there’s a big secret behind the research and exactly why Shiro brought Keith to the other world. Throughout all of this Keith jumps back and forth between the dimensions every day, since he legally still belongs to the orphanage and has to go back. He starts to discover what LIVING really means with the help of all of Shiro’s friends, and starts falling in love with Lance. He gets to experience what the world could have been like if World’s Terminus never happened, and does all these amazing things he would have never even thought to dream of before...

Anyway yeah that’s the AU!! It’s really fun to think about and have Keith experience all these new and exciting things and just get overwhelmed about it all the time but his friends are like “It’s okay, we get it, just take a second to sit down and relax and chill” and it’s. NICE

SO YEAH HOPE YOU ENJOYED //JAZZ HANDS

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stone-man-warrior · 4 years ago

Text

February 11, 2021: 2:04 pm:

====================================================

BBC UK Twitter account is playing games with the timeline they released today, I can‘t show you what I want to show you, but this screen shot will work for describing a bigger, more obvious, and most importantly, a tremendous non-black malfunction of security at the US Capitol on February 6 2021, so they say.

The first thing to know is that everything shown in this clip, and everything shown in the highly edited documentary version of the moment the Capitol Building, the one that BBC news deleted today, is said to have been breached by “Proud Boys”, is all fake, was filmed many years ago, maybe was filmed in 2001. A long time ago.

Here, what to see is that security officer failed to use his side arm in a breach of the US Capitol.

FAIL.

There is a bigger Fail moment to see, one that BBC news seems to have deleted this morning, is the same kind of BBC news video as shown below. In the deleted one, there were about twenty or thirty armed guards out front of the capitol building, all of the them white to my memory, non of them used their side-arms to defend the US Capitol.

not one security officer knew what to do, or how to do it.

It’s as if they are all armed with lolly pops.

It’s fake, is old, all is staged.

https://twitter.com/BBCWorld/status/1359974096797376519

You make your own assessments.

This is bigger, more contemporary, is happening now, about Taylor Swift.

What about Taylor Swift?

I give Ms. Swift a lot of grief with my continuous statement “Fast Ass From Taylor Swift”. The truth about that, is to get some attention from national security to look at her with new eyes, and Cracker Jack’s Secret Decoder Ring.

She is a slave. She is a SAG operative, is forced to do what she is told, is like Dolly Parton is, however I am not convinced that Ms. Parton is a slave, my view is the Ms. Parton used to do the same kinds of terror damage control and other work as does Taylor Swift currently, but the difference is that Taylor Swift was born into captivity, where Dolly Parton is among her captors.

I have a distant moment in my life where I was forced to make decisions about Ms. Swifts wardrobe, she was thankful about the wardrobe freedom and modesty that was allowed when others wanted her on stage in bikini clothing styles.

Ask Taylor about her beginnings as a stage singer, and ask her specifically about her pants, specifics about them, rules she had to adhere to about her stage wardrobe, specifically, her pants. She and I will tell the same story.

https://twitter.com/BBCWorld/status/1359882960200163329

Britney Spears is a different story.

What to know:

Her name is Brit.

Her other name is Spears,

For many years, she has been a news item where the gist of the story is that Spears has a handler who controls Britney Spears,

“So, there is a hand, on a spear, to chuck it.”

That is what you need to know about Britney Spears.

yhttps://twitter.com/BBCWorld/status/1359912235737448451

==================

2:47 pm:

China is not the enemy of the world. “China” is code word basically for “Real Knowledge” in a world we live in where our current reality is ALL LIES.

The perspective of “China is the enemy” ideas come from the Christian Churches, the Vatican and Britain. The lies are so thick that they were able to create a monster, call it Russia, and even arranged that the place is on all of the maps of the world.

There is no place called Russia, never was a place called Russia. The reason Russia is promoted to exist, mainly is to create a false perception of power in the world. As long as there is a bad guy, Russia, with nuclear weapons, then, all other nations around the world are going to behave differently than if there were no imaginary bad guy with nuclear weapons.

Russia makes a handy bad guy for Christians to blame things on, that is why there is a Russia. Christians are able to do terror, then, blame what was witnessed on Russia, in the event that something was witnessed, but only after more lies are told to spin the witnessed event out of the realm of anything that may have been real.

Truth is, there are no Christians. Instead, there are pirates, who invented the Christian religion based on an upside down, inside out, backwards version of The Tao, by Lao Tzu, a very, very, very old piece of literature about ways that a human can use to associate themselves in the universe as a basis for it all to make sense about who you are, and how to live in harmony with the earth and those around you.

https://twitter.com/FoxNews/status/1359688959538978816

You have to wake up, and read the label on the things you use. If China were truly he enemy, and if US White House was really serious about that, there would be no “Made in China” label on the items we all love to use.

To see and know who the enemies are, you have to look at what they have left behind in the wake of destruction and domination as they advance.

Religion.

Language.

Disease.

People.

Four things that are left behind by the true enemies of the world.

Do you see Chinese people taking over remote parts of the world?

Do you hear Chinese language spoken in your neighborhood, one that is outside of China?

Who is promoting the Corona Virus? Where does all of the Corona news come from?

It’s simple.

We are lied to, about very important things, by the people who claim to be in charge.

There is no place called Russia. There is Mongolia, not Russia. Mongolians don’t have nuclear weapons.

======================

3:19:

To help see who the enemy really is, you have to look at what they leave behind.

The story of the Titanic. A big fucking boat, it sank.

The way the story is told, the band kept playing as the ship went down.

That is an artifact left behind by pirates.

==============================

1:27 pm:

To differentiate yourself as a non-terror pirate, is difficult, they have it worked out where everyone is highly pressured to wear a mask, to conceal who you are. They have it worked out where you are not allowed to be at a store to purchase food unless you are wearing a mask.

That tells me that there are at least some real US national security personnel left alive somewhere, people who have access to wireless camera technology at the stores where the food is sold.

What I do, is take my mask off, and look right at the cameras, the ones in the ceiling, and the ones at the Walmart checkout cash register.

I don‘t want to be mistaken as a terror pirate, so, I show my face to the camera even when the pressure to wear the mask will get me tossed out of the store if I fail to wear a Corona Mask.

I suggest everyone remove the mask to look at the camera, so that some help can know who is a pirate and who is a slave.

This terrorist bastard below, is concerned only about one person, he is concerned about Joe Biden.

Joe, or whoever it is that is playing role of Joe Biden, knows that the plan of the British Vatican SAG global domination takeover does not include that Joe Biden serves all for years of his current term. Joe learned the hard way, that Kamala Harris is part of the Trump version of the Vatican, which differs greatly from the SAG/Bergoglio/Google version of the Vatican.

Joe is scheduled for take out, so that Harris can break the glass ceiling, to become US President.

https://twitter.com/ABC/status/1359985372860719116

What is so different about the Bergoglio Vatican and the “Trump Version”?

The Trump version of the Vatican is a Vatican that is lead by a German, Pope Benedict. That, however, is not important, what is important, is that the Benedict Vatican, is a Vatican that is composed of real, mass murdering, ruthless pirates who have been fooling everyone on earth for more than 2000 years. That, was changed out when the Bergoglio became Pope. He is a fake pope. Pope Francis is a Screen Actor Guild member from Argentina. The SAG thought they were taking over a bunch of religious Christians at the Vatican when that happened, but the reality is that SAG hijacked the source of all of the worlds terrorism, at the helm of the Pirate Ship that is the Vatican, where centuries of blood in the form of Christian Crusades, Missions, to take over the world have been commanded from.

It’s like there is a small child at the Queen‘s Armory where all of her guns and bullets are stored. That is what SAG at the Vatican is like.

So, the real pirates have been quietly trying to regain what was lost, without giving themselves up as the pirates that they truly are at the Vatican. Those guys at the Benedict style Vatican arrangement are very good at what they do, they are masters of time itself, they don‘t really care how long it takes to take the Bergoglio out, and put a Benedict back in, and, they already figured out that having the clowns of SAG in the limelight is beneficial to the real pirates who are simply continuing to do the crusade work in deeper shadows, while the SAG Bergoglio clowns are square in all of the headlights.

Eventually, the Benedict, real, 2000 year old masters of time and space, the real Christian pirates who have been mass murdering since Day One, are going to take back their Vatican, however, they are going bring down all of SAG and all of the US Government while they do that, and, they will blame SAG for everything and anything that arises as a result of that, even if it takes fifty years to do it without being noticed.

I say a lot about the Seventh Day Adventist variety of Christians, they are everywhere, far more than you are aware of, millions of them disguised as other factions.

What I haven‘t said much about is the Mormon faction. I don‘t know very much about them. Where I grew up in Simi Valley California, that whole place filled up with Mormon‘s right away, with the very first housing tract that was built there, and by 1963. there were a few fairly large housing tracts there, in an otherwise desolate valley. In 1963. there was only one gas station, and no grocery stores in Simi Valley. It was not until 1965 that a full size food store was built.

The thing about the Mormons, is they all have a “End of Days Food Pantry” and did not necessarily need the grocery store to be right there, it benefited the Mormon lifestyle to prevent any grocery stores built in Simi Valley at the time.

The Mormons are closer to the original Christian Pirating than any other religious faction, in my view so far, and that is one of the reasons why Mitt Romney is scheduled to become King of French North American Republic Territory when the pirates are successful at taking apart USA.

The geographic region currently occupied as Canada, USA, and Mexico is the new boundary for French North American Republic Territory.

Justin Trudeau is scheduled to be fist Prime Minister of the new, Communist Republic Kingdom, French North American Republic Territory.

Trudeau is there for the British Throne, while Romney represents the Vatican Pirate Ship.

Trudeau will make most public decision making, while Romney is there to look pretty.

“Church of Latter Day Saints” literally translates to “Church of the End of Days Dead People”.

You don‘t need to be a language scholar to do that translation.

All I started out to say about the Mormon’s, is a reminder that everyone already knows they are called “The Dark Side”, you already know that, already learned it on the news, the term is used with pride.

===============================

4:22 pm:

This from US State Department today, Ned Price:

The literal translation to those in the know is like this:

“The people who are from the place that is not really there, are condemned for blasphemy of the people who say they saw God reach his arm out of the television to turn it off”

That is the translation. It needs further decoding to see why Ned Price said it.

My read, is there is some pressure at SAG HQ, Scrutiny of SAG members and their Bounty.

It reads as an instruction, or a “heads up”.

If it’s a “Head’s Up”, then, the message is from State to Britain, to warn the people who control the Boris Johnson Puppet of some kind of activity that puts SAG in a bad light. Ned Price calls for some large size Russian Hoax maneuvers from the State Department Alter, trying to reach House of Lords, at SIS MI6 at Vauxhall Bridge, to come up with a set of lies to make a distraction, detour, road block.

See other comm from Joe Biden, is the same comm with use of Trump’s Border Wall to say “Road Block”. Ned Price helps clarify the Joe Biden terror comm to Britain terror pirate leaders, by inclusion of SAG as the subject, with use of Jehovah Witness’s, who have always been a way to put Screen Actor Guild spies at your front door on Saturday morning, about 10:00 am.

The JW’s are famous for the image of God who reaches his arm out of a television screen, in your living room, to turn off the TV long enough to hear what God has to say, about “ a watchtower” and being “awake”.

They serve as “Guardian‘s of the Galaxy” in other news items also.

I don‘t have a conclusion on this one, no one does, it’s happening now.

It’s a shame there are no US national Security forces who are willing to do their jobs. This looks like opportunity to stop a lot of terrorism, through learning about how the command chain of terror really works, on Twitter, mainstream, from the top US Government offices and leading media network news, to the top British offices, by way of Hollywood, and a copy gets sent to the Vatican to oversee the progress.

https://twitter.com/StateDept/status/1359962812253143043

==============

4:49 pm:

I said “China” is code for “Real Knowledge” (vs Gnosis, lies) but it’s more complicated than that.

You have to also consider that heroin is what is used to power the enormous Canadian SDA terror army, they stay loyal to the leadership because the leadership supplies them with heroin, that way, the Canadian SDA terror army, stays loyal to the heroin, and to the leadership by extension.

There are two kinds of heroin to my knowledge, one is the preferred kind, is used by the SAG leadership personally, is called “China White” looks like white powder. The other is called “Black Tar”, looks like roofing tar.

I don‘t know for sure, but I think that when heroin is made from the Afghan Poppy fields, where French and Canadian terror soldiers killed and replaced all of the US Military that has been sent over there especially for the purpose the (that) the impostors would kill them, to protect the source of the terror heroin, while also insuring that there are fewer and fewer US Military who can stop the terrorism ... I think when the heroin is produced, it makes a ratio of “China White” to “Black Tar” as part of the process, something like 90% “Tar”, and 10% “China White” is the outcome of modern heroin production, but I am not certain about that. Whatever the case is about the two kinds, is SAG prefers the “China White”, they keep that for themselves, while the terror army rations are mostly “Black Tar”.

The use of the word “China” to say “Old Knowledge” or “Real Knowledge” is partly because of the heroin, where it is said that heroin makes you “See God” when it’s injected. That, and the Heroin itself is considered to be a female, a “Heroine” of a female God. So, it gets more complicated than just to say “China means Real Knowledge”, because real knowledge is a hero.

Real Knowledge (China) is what can stop 90% of all terrorism on Earth, by enlightening the Russian Mother of all Hoaxes, and burying it in real truth based on old, real, knowledge.

Pirates hate knowledge, they hate truth, but love heroin.

==========================================

5:29 pm:

Learn to read terror comm:

This says there will be “More Winter” very basically speaking.

So, “Ground Hogs Day w/shadow” is part of the message. (add six; load revolver)

Also, it’s Chinese. “Ground Dogs Day w/shadow, load revolver”

(SAG news media insists that Chinese people eat dogs, so, Ground Dog is a lot like Ground Chuck, we don’t really know why they put Chuck through the Butcher’s Mill, but, they did, and it’s 80/20 Medicare Grade Chuck. Personal Health Insurance is often said to be a firearm for protection, so, “Load Chuck” where Chuck is a Medicare Beneficiary, and is turned into Ballistic Gel. Medicare Chuck is Down Range)

Terror comm is a life or death affair when presented mainstream on Twitter by major news media Verified Accounts. That is the most important part of this terror comm reading. Twitter MUST be taken offline permanently in order to slow down the Global terror take over of the world.

Google is too big to fail, so, Google MUST be taken into custody of Global Security forces, people who are opposed to captivity, people who are opposed to being subject of forced surgical experimentation. It needs to be made to work correctly, while taking Google apart to form smaller monsters, ones that are far easier to maintain control of.

https://twitter.com/washingtonpost/status/1360030885777723393

There is more to consider about Chuck.

The winter, according to Washington Post Terror cell on Twitter, is to continue in the “Lower 48 States”.

CRAP rules are applied, that means “US Advertising Industry”. In the Advertising Industry, first year students learn about CRAP rules for making an advertisement pleasing to the eye, so that the products and services offered with advertising will look bigger, better, more attractive, luring, will be “sexy” and thereby sell the items.

C ontrast

R epetition

A lignment

P roximity

The tweet from WAPO is heavy on the Proximity parts of CRAP, while specifying the advertisement presented. (see news about a Democrat Political Party [AARP] terror comm Twitter story about a Billboard presented today, to know that Advertising and CRAP are important today. Advertising is an extension of Screen Actors Guild)

It’s a perspective statement, “Lower 48“, always has been a perspective statement. North (Canada) is on top, that puts Continental USA in the Chuck position, from view of Justin Trudeau’s front window, Eastwood Guitars is there by default due to the northern compass setting, that puts Eastwood to the right, in the trees. Eastwood is to the left from Trudeau’s window, to the right for those in USA looking at Trudeau. That position puts Eastwood Guitars out in the Atlantic Ocean, on a boat.

Here is the Eastwood Boat:

It’s a Canadian Chinese Knock-Off of a Japanese Guitar from the 1960′s.

Ichiban Sharkfin K4L (it’s personal, Eastwood representatives at Hugo Hitching Post General Store, about one and one-half miles north east of where I am, are called to service at my house with that advertisement, to come kill me, by order of Justin Trudeau terror cell in Quebec Canada.)

Almost all of the guitars Eastwood makes are Japanese Chinese Canadian Knock Off guitars. no one has ever called them out for being the pirates that they prove to be everyday. Clearly, that is a pirated guitar.

This one is part of the same ad, it means Justin forwarded the commands he got, to Eastwood, from the Vatican.

Also, that statement about “this photo is for illustration purposes only” is complicated, means a whole bunch of different things when presented to the people it’s supposed to reach.

One: A sketch of a threat that was made against Mr. Tracy of Thunderbird’s (the Pope; The Jim Dunlop; The Flying V pirate ship; The Vatican)

Two: It’s “Adobe” is the house of an “Indian”. It’s “Vector Graphics”, that means it’s an Aerial command, is Bernouli, is French, is Doppler, has a delay built-in, comes and goes, is female.

Three: It’s Tierra Rejada; It’s Ronald Reagan Library; Is Simi Valley; Is an airplane from the White House inside of the Ronald Reagan Library; It’s a lot of personal records on the 118 Freeway all laying around and looking like the aftermath of a mob of Trump supporters who raided Nancy Pelosi’s office ... paper everywhere, lampshades all turned sideways; It’s that piece of that old statue that was left in the rubble on the floor of the capitol building (see Twitter news to catch up with me here, I am down range and exhilarating at this time, making truth known); It’s “Afterswords” based, is from the Benedict Vatican.

Four: The “illustrator” statement is about Bob Hope; Is Charles Manson being too close to Rocketdyne, then killed, and that other guy put into the fake prison to lure in others who might know about Bob Hope, USO Mass Murder Entertainment aboard ship, and MK Ultra Hijack; It’s about a man by the name of Gottlieb, and is about “Alouette HQ, Ann Wilson, Leon Russell, Ted nugent, Elton John, and Mama Cass to name just a few; The illustrator statement is deep, goes to Richard nixon, impeachment, and a big hole in the ground where US Military was tossed into in Vietnam by order of Lindon B. Johnson, and a lot more.

Five: The illustrator statement says that the current Trump Impeachment is spelling out details about terrorism, and exposure of lies told to cover it all up for many decades. The Illustration statement says to look at Twitter to see the newly presented artifacts that are said to be part of the fake Trump impeachment, where those videos and written dialogue are there to inform terror operatives what specifically to lie about if they are questioned by authorities about things that have absolutely nothing to do with the impeachment, and everything to do with global terrorism, and especially USA takeover.

=======================================

7:23 pm:

From here, in Hollywood or Nashville, you could go up the command chain a short distance to get to Disney Micheal Eisner and everything in between, or, you could follow the sideways path in any direction to get to underground places where US Military service men and women, and kidnapped US School children are forced to undergo experimental surgical procedures.

These guys are in the center of “Partner” production and distribution.

Take a few whacks at them on my behalf.

https://vintageking.com/?adlclid=704f429de56519b1eb1922b81139ebdb&msclkid=704f429de56519b1eb1922b81139ebdb&utm_source=bing&utm_medium=cpc&utm_campaign=%5BADL%5D%20%5BBrand%5D%20Vintage%20King%20Audio%20(Exact)&utm_term=vintage%20king%20audio&utm_content=Vintage%20King%20Audio

===============

7:45 pm:

This is a Zakk Wylde waiting to happen:

Lamb of God...

I feel a belch coming on. Must be time for some lamb chops.

How do you get to Petaluma?

“Practice with your arm.”

Strong’s Terror cell member pictured above. Balls not included.

Reminder to US Public Safety:

Years ago, maybe twenty years ago, nsa was right on that guys tail, ready, armed, gonna take him out, but, they were fooled by the local sheriff, who works for God, works for pirates. The sheriff told the nsa that what they needed to do, was crack the code about why Speed Racer and his Mach 5 was important. The sheriff claimed he did not have the necessary resources to provide the county with detectives, so, he was not able to crack the code about why Speed Racer and the Mach 5 are important terror communication tools.

So, just remember that when you catch up to the local sheriff and his friends in Petaluma, Hollywood, Medford, and Vatican City.

Give my regards to John, likely to be at or near 3747 Russell Road, at Strong’s terror cell, a “SAG House”, any minute now.

=================================

8:10 pm:

Explainer:

SAG/Aftra

These guys, all of every kind of entertainment everywhere, and the extension of services they rely on, engineers of all kinds, lawyers, doctors, artists, construction and demolition, textile workers, food cart drivers, and vineyard operators, all inclusive, are the source of 90% of terrorism on Earth.

There are no non-terror affiliates among them.

Remember the “Roasts” that were presented on TV in the 1960′s and 1970′s?

That was SAG Housekeeping. That is the time when the Chinese Laundry was hijacked, the Chinaman was taken as a slave, and the One Hour Martinizer took over, Dean Martin, Frank Sinatra, and their personal token smoker, Sammy Davis Jr. who was just a little guy they toted around to make a point.

The Roast was a national, global effort to make sure that there were no non-terror pirates in the Screen Actor Guild or in any of the extended services or professions they rely on.

SAG is 100% COVID Compliant. There are no exceptions. Those who won‘t go along with the show, are killed. They are sent to the 27 Club. But first they all get one chance to comply, that is with a tactic called Twighlight Zone. Those who resist going COVID are subject to the most bizarre, horrible, absolute insane events that take place around them, until they comply, or die trying to survive the Twighlight Zone.

What you need to do, is understand that there cannot possibly be any non-COVID compliant people left in the entertainment industry, those people are all long gone, weeded out decades ago.

So don‘t say I didn‘t try to warn you about that when some asshole tells you about the free two-week tropical cruise they will give you featuring Kenny Wayne Shepherd and Joe Bonamassa, and don‘t be swayed by Britney Spears or Taylor Swift on the Cruise Boat to the Tropics either, they are all SAG, all have a job to do, and that job is to toss the nsa overboard, and replace them with a recommendation from national Sheriff’s Association after the SAG Bob Hope Coast Guard is unable to locate any victims of having fallen off of the boat.

national Sheriff Association is in the “Shoe-In Business”. They changed their Twitter header about a month after the first time I exposed that. There was photos of a horse race, and jockeys there at the national Sheriff Association Verified Twitter Account, ones that spell out what sort of services they provide.

nsa is in the nsa business for Shoe-In Work at a national level, from the county.

Don‘t take the Shwagg. There are no friendlies in the entertainment business, they float Titanic boats, just exactly so they can sink them.

To see an example of a light version of a Twighlight Zone done to a SAG Entertainer, all you have to do is look at Ozzy Osbourne and that “Reality TV Show” they gave him.

First remember that Ozzy Osbourne is a big fish in the entertainment world, so, he is not going to be easy to make disappear, but, they can and did put cameras all in house, they were everywhere. You have to also remember that he was removed from Black Sabbath first. Then, look at Ozzy Osbourne’s medical history to see how many spinal surgeries he was subject to from being beat up so many times. Mr. Osbourne was opposed to what he had learned about the music industry. The first thing did to him, was they tossed Sharon at him, to control what he does, where he went, who he spoke to, and what he said to others.

Put yourself in the shoes of someone who is an entertainer, a famous one, with cameras forced on you every minute of every day, to get a small glimpse of Twighlight Zone treatment. They edited out the parts when the camera man beat the living daylight out of him after exposure to poison gasses in his house.

See how he spells the title they gave him:

Is it: “Prince of Darkness”?

Or is it: “Prints of Darkness”?

I say it’s the latter, because he tried to explain things to people that don‘t understand real terrorism, and he left some Prints of Darkness behind in doing so, and got a reality TV show as booby prize.

===================================

9:18 pm:

This Twitter Trend about the bald YouTuber is about Joe Satriani. Joe likes to put on Josephine County Sheriff Uniform, the whole thing complete with badge, gun, vest, taser, and Police Interceptor, all supplied to him by the local sheriff. Same thing Robert Duval and others like them do when on SAGClubMed heroin Junket Murder Fest in Oregon.

Robert Duval goes by the name Deputy Duvail when he does his house to house terror looking for little girls to rape.

Satriani uses the name Aaron Porter when he dons the sheriff suit.

Satriani is not picky about what kind of suit he will wear, he is perfectly OK and protected when he puts on the Josephine County Courts Bailiff Uniform while inside of the courtroom at a hearing while Honorable Judge Patrick Wolke is jockeying the fake video feed from people associated and are said to be witnesses in the hearings in Josephine County, They use pre-recorded testimony played on a video screen in the courtroom while Bailiff Aaron Porter makes sure that no one makes any noise about the bullshit presented by Pat Wolke.

That is small potatoes compared to what happens inside the jail, where fake arrests bring victims into a controlled environment and assassins are sent into the jail with weapons to kill the mark while inside the jail.

There, inside the jail, all of the people who look like jail population are all actors, none of them are real people arrested and serving time. They are all there for show.

Inside of the jail there is a processing area, where the new arrivals are brought and have to wait in a small confined area until the jailer is ready to process them through and into the main population. In the past twenty years I have been in there three times. Each time, the same two men were in the processing area, and each time, those two men asked me for help, and said that they were real police held in the jail processing cell.

The last two times were about ten years apart, and each time, the same men where inside of the main population area. Both times I was in there, there were the same men, saying the same lines, doing the same activity as the time before, ten years earlier. I estimate fifty of the men were the same people in the main population. Each time I was there, I was arrested for things that did not happen. Many police broke through my door to take me to the Josephine County Snuff Jail, where I had to fight against famous rock star musicians who were sent in there with weapons to kill me, but were killed in defense when I fought back.

So, be advised that the Trend is about Satriani. He has a big scar on his arm where I fillet him when he attacked me at my gate, and another scar from a sword he was stuck in the face with while inside of Pat Wolke’s Courtroom and he attacked me in the courtroom, room #3 I think it was, I explained it when it happened I think, read the account to find it.

The same people are always in the lobby at the courthouse also. If you need to go to any of the offices that are at the courthouse you are likely to see the same people in the lobby that you saw the last time you were there, and they respond to the presence of outsiders the same way each time someone who is not part of the Courthouse terror cell shows up there. Same activity, same spoken words, same clothing ... same, same, same every time I have needed to go to a county office at the courthouse. The one on 6th and C streets in Grants Pass Oregon, 97526.

=============

10:19 pm:

I have absolutely zero control.

Twitter plays the Twighlight Zone mind game. This is one of the ways they do it to an individual.

The account and others I once had are suspended, they make it look as though the account is active. I cannot get a new Twitter account unless I get a new telephone number. Twitter requires a telephone number to have an account. You can sign up without using a phone number, and the account will work for a couple of days, then, the account will have a big sign when you log in that says:

“Ooops! Something went wrong. You need to tell us who you are by providing a current phone number so we can send you an access code”.

So, without a phone number to track you, to hunt you down to kill you with, you cannot have a Twitter account. You can have a suspended one to use for reading the “news”, but you cannot make new Tweets with a suspended Twitter account.

If you do have a suspended Twitter account, you can use that account to reach the terror bastards who operated Twitter. All you need to do, is choose any Tweet that is of interest, then, pretend to make a comment, just start typing in response to any Tweet, you can write a whole book if you want to, the text you write will be highlighted automatically as you begin to write more than the amount of characters that a normal Tweet is composed of. When you do that, the terror bastards at Twitter can see what you are writing, so, you just keep on writing as a response to any Tweet of interest, and soon, you will understand that the terror bastards at Twitter can read what you wrote from within a suspended Twitter account. You cannot reach anyone else, and the terror bastards at Twitter will never ever under any circumstances provide anyone with any help of any kind, ever, no matter how much you beg them to call national Security, they will only ignore everything you said about that, while they learn more about who you are, and where you are, so that they can send the correct assassins to your house.

10:49 pm:

Twitter Trend:

“Legacies airing on the CW”

When ever you see “some bullshit is airing on The CW” what is really happening is Google picked up some RADAR that looks like it might be someone writing something online that could possibly be about the Holy See or about the “Kill & Replace Terror” that Google is part of.

I think the “Airing on The CW” trend is automated, comes from a Bot that searches the internet for collections of key words and phrase.

They make it sound so warm and fuzzy, the CW trend comes across as if it’s your old friend, “The CW is airing... Ohh Goody, I love the CW” is how the psycho’s at Google are presenting that particular kind of terror communication. It advises millions of well equipped smart phone jockeying special iPhone App soldiers to hone in on what kind of information was revealed, so that the correct local ISP operators can send the correct assassins to the people who are writing so much truth online about the Vatican and their Kill & Replace tactics.

“Ohh goody, the CW is airing, I can‘t wait to see what is on the CW”

===========

11:13 pm:

This is a good place for a reminder about “I am airing it out” French Canadian specific terror set-up scenario, is wide-spread, broad-based and universal in size and scope:

Briefly. “I am airing it out” is spoken to a intended, marked mail victim by a French Canadian female terror assassin who is working with others nearby and is recording the conversation that takes place.

One example I have encountered numerous times is from the replacement of Susan Peterson, who was the local mail carrier for the route on the street I live on. If I happened to be outside when the mail arrived, I would walk over to where the mailboxes are at, and wait for the mail car to drive away, during that time, the Susan Peterson would strike up some chit chat, and speak quietly, I have step closer to hear what she is saying, while the motor is running on the mail car, so, that is when I can clearly see that it’s a fine summer day, is warm outside, and the Susan Peterson is not wearing any underwear, so, eyes go there, then she says: “I am looking for a watering hole on this route, just so I can take a 30 minute break sometimes”. So, a response like “Yeah, it’s awfully warm out these past few days” is responded with “That’s why I am airing it out like that” and the view opens up a little more.

That is when I step the fuck back. I am no fool.

“I am airing it out” is a dangerous proposition, should be avoided whenever the words “I am airing it out” are spoken with a wide angle view, and a search for a watering hole for 30 minutes sometimes as a broad-based message, especially when spoken by a mail carrier professional.

==========

11:11 pm:

“The CW” again.

=============

11:38 pm:

This one says Los Angeles times has enlisted Walmart terror cell to “Turn up the gain“ (it means they are going to play dirty) and to have Pacific Power Corp turn off my power, at least temporarily.

The time stamp from Twitter is only there to dazzle you with diamonds while they baffle you with bullshit, a double whammy of terror lies is presented with the Twitter time stamp.

https://twitter.com/latimes/status/1360122469496012801

================

11:54 pm:

It’s all custom tailored.

I’m going to refrain from doing the text part of the decode, but the visual part is a two hole, could be birdie on the putting green, and it taint worth makin’, is miniature golf at the Putt-Putt back 9.

https://twitter.com/ReutersUK/status/1360108621892378624

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neotericbitch · 7 years ago

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don’t shoot the

Messengers get to come as far as the gates. There's a rigorous screening process, though not one person could ever tell you what it entails. It’s basically a battle to get through the camping troops - anyone who screams or begs enough, or clearly has no fighting capabilities, or even if they’re holding a really obvious letter, are the ones most likely to get through. Or killed.

China Sorrows didn’t want there to be any confusion. The three messengers she sent were all very clearly marked. Only one got to the gates, and it is that same one that Abyssinia gazes at now. Scrawny, weak-willed thing, but not a Neoteric. A strict follower of the guidelines of their magic, guidelines that someone made up someday and declared it the only legitimate way of conducting things from that point on. Unsuitable for her army.

Abyssinia smiles very sweetly at the mage, but does not open the gate. They’re backlit by the setting sun, flanked by loyal Neoterics, clutching a plastic cylinder - and shivering like a leaf. Must be the company Abyssinia keeps, as she can’t imagine anyone ever being intimidated by her appearance. She’s much too tiny and cute. It’s a very good thing to appear unthreatening. Keeps people from seeing her coming. Yes, must be the company. Tall, dark and terrible Lord Vile with several Necromancers trailing after him to keep him from killing her; Cadaverous Gant, a devil of a man enjoying his recent return to youth; the finely dressed woman with the beast in her hand, Razzia… There are many like them standing by her.

“Message from Roarhaven?” chirps Abyssinia, much like a bird.

“From Supreme Mage Sorrows,” the mage replies, opening the cylinder and taking out a piece of paper, rolled neatly into a scroll. They pass it through the bars of the gate, and Abyssinia gladly takes it.

“Ooh,” she says, weighing it in her hand. “Bound paper, very nice.” She holds the scroll above her head. “Who would be willing to go without magic to read this to me?”

“I will,” Gant immediately jumps in.

“Not you, my lovely,” says Abyssinia just as quickly, swatting him off her shoulder.

A Neoteric standing beside the messenger reaches out, and the scroll is passed back through the bars. As the paper is unravelled, the sigil secretly activates, but all present can see the hint of a glow leave the Neoteric’s fingers.

“Do I...read the whole thing?”

“A paraphrasing will do fine.”

The messenger seems uncomfortable with this, but says nothing as the Neoteric gives the gist of the letter.

“Right. Basically she’s already caught word of Valkyrie Cain being here, wants to open communications for her release, willing to negotiate a trade maybe, uh - or at least see that she’s alive and well. Via your next Global Link appearance. Have Cain make a cameo, or something along those lines.”

“Ah! Fair enough. How nice of Supreme Mage Sorrows to have sent word. So courteous of her to want to communicate with us. At last, a dialogue can be had.” Abyssinia raises her voice a little, not that anyone has had much trouble hearing her up to now. “Finally, everyone! The discourse has commenced! Negotiations are about to begin!”

The Neoterics whoop and cheer. A wave of shadows from Vile sweeps Abyssinia up so that she can be seen by the gathered crowd, and she waves both arms and laughs. The messenger mage attempts a smile of their own as Abyssinia is set down and starts to walk away.

“That’s... This is wonderful news. I will return to Supreme Mage Sorrows with your response immediately.”

“Hm?” Abyssinia looks over her shoulder. “Oh, there’s no need for that. I have my own way of sending messages. Thank you for offering, though.”

“You’re...you’re welcome.”

She repeats her sweet smile, this time squinting her eyes a little too much. She resumes her exit, though not before nodding subtly, but significantly, to Vile - and then Abyssinia disappears from sight.

The messenger takes an instinctive step back and bumps into a person. They’re no longer flanked, more like completely surrounded. With wild eyes they look from face to face, then back through the bars at Gant and Razzia as they depart. The messenger’s gaze finally settles on Vile. He has not moved.

Their mouth is dry and it takes forever for their lips to part. “I’m sure you know the saying about not shooting the m--”

A spear of shadows cleaves right through their skull. The Neoterics scream with delight.

#this is a skul fic blog now #this is spx spoilers but also at the same time completely made up and very uncanon #skulduggery pleasant

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aion-rsa · 4 years ago

Text

When Spider-Man Becomes Venom

https://ift.tt/39Uw3LD

If being Venom was like being in the Beatles, then Peter Parker would be Pete Best. His stretch of time in the late-80s wearing his living, black costume is a staple of his history. Before it turned Eddie Brock into a box office giant, the symbiote made for a badass variant look for Spider-Man that still holds up to this day. It’s the ultimate story of how we can lose ourselves to power, even if a loved one beat you over the head with lessons about responsibility.

Over the years, Spider-Man did rejoin with the symbiote a few times, usually in the name of heroism. In Venomized, a Venom symbiote from another reality bonded to him for a little while. At the end of Dan Slott’s lengthy Amazing Spider-Man run, Eddie Brock let Spidey borrow the symbiote so he could fight the Red Goblin (Norman Osborn as Carnage). These days, Parker and his former tights at least have an understanding.

This April, the team of Chip Zdarsky and Pasqual Ferry will be doing a four-issue take on Marvel’s What If? by giving us Spider-Man: Spider’s Shadow. The idea? Spider-Man not only never gets rid of his hungry ooze pants, but he embraces his hungry ooze pants!

Yes, we see Peter Parker intentionally bond with what would have been known as the Venom symbiote and keep on keeping on with the crime-fighting. What happens when such a pure-hearted hero goes all-in on wearing clothes that constantly tell him to bite people’s faces off? Guess we’ll find out soon enough.

Then again, Peter holding onto the symbiote is an idea that’s been visited time and time again. Not only has it popped up in issues of What If?, but also in other forms of Marvel media.

WHAT IF THE ALIEN COSTUME HAD POSSESSED SPIDER-MAN?

In the fourth issue of What If?’s second volume, Danny Fingeroth and Mark Bagley jumped onto the then-recent introduction of Venom by doing an issue about what would have happened had Peter Parker taken too long to figure out what the deal was with his black costume. He couldn’t get in touch with the Fantastic Four, so he instead met up with Dr. Connors, which was a fruitless venture. By the time Reed Richards was able to investigate, the symbiote was already bonded to Spider-Man and wouldn’t be removed so easily.

Puppeting Parker’s body, the symbiote escaped captivity and hid in the city for several days. Spider-Man eventually came across a rampaging Hulk, which convinced the symbiote to leave Spider-Man for this upgrade of a host. Abandoned, Peter Parker appeared as an old man due to how much the creature sucked him dry. Using his final hours to design a sonic gun that could destroy the symbiote, Peter’s body finally gave out.

The symbiote eventually left Hulk for Thor. Interestingly enough, Banner was left cured of being the Hulk while the symbiote claimed what happened to Parker was a mistake. Whether it was telling the truth or not, it still took over Thor’s body and tried to hide out in Mount Rushmore. Luckily, Reed Richards had Black Bolt’s epic voice on speed dial and that took care of that.

Well, except for Black Cat getting the kill shot thanks to that aforementioned sonic gun.

SECRET WARS: 25 YEARS LATER

The final issue of the second volume of What If? took a look back at the original Secret Wars event and wondered what would happen had the heroes and villains been stuck on Battleworld for a generation. This Jay Faerber/Gregg Schigiel collaboration had Galactus and the Beyonder kill each other, meaning that all the survivors were stranded. Much had happened in those 25 years, but for the most part, the heroes and villains put their differences aside. Sure, there was something in there about Dr. Doom shacking up with the Enchantress, only for her to leave him for Thor and Doom killing her because of it, but otherwise you had the Wrecking Crew chilling out with Hawkeye and She-Hulk like old friends.

The stars of the one-shot were the offsprings, like the daughter of Captain America and Rogue or the son of Human Torch and Wasp. Spider-Man only had a couple moments, but they were incredibly interesting. He seemed colder to everyone and there was a curious debate over whether anyone had seen him eat anything.

During the climactic battle, Klaw blasted Spider-Man with some sonics. The symbiote pulled away to reveal nothing underneath but Peter Parker’s skeleton. This turned out to be far from a surprise to the heroes as Human Torch saved him and moved on without a second thought.

THE ANIMATED SERIES FINALE

Straying away from the Venom symbiote, there was a time in the comics where Ben Reilly – back when he took over being Spider-Man – was the host to the Carnage symbiote for a few hours. Nothing really happened with it, but he looked rad as hell and it made for a cool cover image.

The 90s Spider-Man cartoon ended the series by doing its own prototype version of Into the Spider-Verse. The final two-parter took place in “I Really, Really Hate Clones” and “Farewell, Spider-Man.”

In an alternate reality, a version of the Clone Saga storyline happened, only in this one, Peter was more of an asshole to Ben Reilly instead of treating him like a brother. When Peter found out that he was possibly the clone, he got extra pissed about it right around the time when the Carnage symbiote was nearby. He became Spider-Carnage and created a plan to destroy the multiverse.

A team of Spider-Men from different realities came together to stop him. After visiting a world where Spider-Man wore armor and was successful and happy in every way, the cartoon’s main Spider-Man realized that Uncle Ben was probably alive in that universe. That Uncle Ben confronted Spider-Carnage and got through to him. Although the man within wasn’t strong enough to expel the symbiote, he was able to sabotage his own multiverse-destroying plans via sacrificing his own life, all the while begging for forgiveness for all the horrors he committed.

WHAT IF? THE OTHER

Peter David and Khoi Pham did a one-shot where the Venom symbiote returned to Peter at the absolute worst time. The Other was as storyline where Spider-Man seemingly died, but survived in a cocooned form. After getting in touch with his inner spider, he was reborn with more primal abilities that unfortunately didn’t last too long. This alternate version had Spider-Man refuse the rebirth. Everyone already mourned him and he didn’t want to have that happen all over again. He remained in his cocoon, choosing to let nature take its course over time.

Comics

We Are Venom: The Many Characters Who Wore the Symbiote

By Gavin Jasper

Comics

Venom: Riot and the Life Foundation Symbiotes Explained

By Gavin Jasper

At that time, Mac Gargan was Venom’s host and the symbiote could sense Spider-Man’s situation. Knowing Peter was ripe for the picking, the symbiote left Gargan and consumed the husk of Peter Parker. With the symbiote in full control, he was neither Spider-Man nor Venom. He was Poison.

Poison confronted Mary Jane and Aunt May, but realized they wanted nothing to do with him. Poison instead left and spawned a new symbiote child in order to bond with and reanimate the corpse of Gwen Stacy.

Yeah, lot of laughs going on in that story. Sheesh.

WHAT IF? AGE OF APOCALYPSE

Age of Apocalypse was already a bizarre alternate universe. Rick Remender and Dave Wilkins made it even more batshit insane by having Legion accidentally kill both Xavier and Magneto. In this reality, Nate Summers joined with a superhero resistance team to take out Apocalypse and there’s all sorts of crazy stuff going on.

At one point, the team came across a nest of Peter Parker clones engulfed in a giant black web of symbiote. A horrified Captain America (wielding Mjolnir) had them destroy all the brainless Spider-Man clones before moving on to the next big challenge.

WEB OF SHADOWS

Back in 2008, Activision decided to go all in on the whole symbiote thing by making a Spider-Man video game based entirely around a symbiote invasion and symbiote-possessed versions of different heroes and villains. A fight with Venom led to Spider-Man getting some of the goop onto himself, allowing him the option to become Symbiote Spider-Man. Venom’s symbiote started expanding and latching onto hundreds of other New Yorkers, overwhelming the city with chaos.

After teaming up with and/or fighting lots of Marvel characters, Spider-Man took on a kaiju version of Venom and convinced Eddie Brock to fights its influence. Depending on factors, Venom would either die from heroic sacrifice or Spider-Man’s hands.

There are various endings based both on how much time you’ve used the symbiote and how much of an overall dick you’ve been. Too much of the black costume could at best cause Mary Jane to break up with you. At worst, it could cause you to conquer New York as leader of the symbiotes.

VENOMVERSE

Since Marvel did the Spider-Verse comic event, Cullen Bunn and Iban Coello did a natural knockoff of sorts called Venomverse. While it had no real connection to the Spider-Man story, the gist was similar: various Venom hosts from the multiverse had to team up to face a threat that was hunting them down.

The mainstream Venom was the only Eddie Brock host involved as the rest of the crew included the likes of Mary Jane, Captain America, Dr. Strange, Rocket Raccoon, Deadpool, Gwenpool, and so on. There was also a Spider-Man in there and while they didn’t go too far into his background, he was the only one who seemed to recognize Eddie and harbored unexplained resentment.

The threat came in the form of Poisons. These tiny, white creatures on their own didn’t seem to be much of a threat, but when one would make physical contact with a symbiote and its host, it would engulf them and completely take over. The Poison, the symbiote, and the host would turn into some kind of white, armored creature permanently.

Spider-Man was one of those to fall victim to the Poisons. This led to a rather cathartic fight to the death between Venom and Poison Spider-Man that Venom won.

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Now, you might be saying, “Didn’t you JUST talk about a story where Spider-Man was a symbiote monster called Poison already? Isn’t this confusing?” Yes. Yes it is. So confusing that when they released a Marvel Legends figure for Poison Spider-Man from Venomverse, the profile information on the back of the box described the story from What If? The Other instead. Whoops!

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violetbeachpod · 7 years ago

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TRANSCRIPT: 1x03 - Moments of Mystery

it’s me again. here’s a third transcript. i love writing benji the very most. thank you.

BENJI:

Hey, everyone, it’s Benji here to guide you through another moment of mystery. That’s catchy, I think. Teresa shut it down when I put it in the group chat, but. I like it. And Elaine liked it. Nobody else did, but only Teresa shut it down. But I like it! It’s alliterative, and it’s catchy. See, you gotta sell shit with a title, like--a title is a mini-thesis, right? Your mission statement in, uh, I’d argue seven words or less, cuz after that, you’re getting too niche.

Like you’re some kinda whiny sellout pop-punk band, or a tortured academic who can’t come up with any substance for their dissertation so instead they’re writing their entire life story on the title page after a colon, or somewhere on the spectrum between the two. And there is a spectrum, I think, and it does not include every single type of person. I think, in the middle, we have white PTA moms and also maybe me back in high school.

So. Moments of mystery. Now, listeners, I’m a self-proclaimed expert on weird shit. And I (maybe legally?) have to say self-proclaimed, cuz I have had some people email into my podcast that are pissed off about my lack of certification in the field. Because apparently, these days, we don’t trust non-degree-granted expertise. Hmph. Trust me, I’m working on it, though. I’m super working on it. Not sure if the university offers a cryptozoology/paranormal investigations program, but, hey, if they need a guy to start one? They know my name. And my number. And my email. And my address. Cuz I’m an alum. And also because I’ve emailed, called, and mailed them about this. Many times. I think the dean blocked my number? Which I might put on my resume, frankly, cuz the dean’s a dick and if he blocked me, I think I should consider that an honor.

So, anyway, as a self-proclaimed expert, I got this whole thing down. I can and I will. Weird mists? Absolutely. Moon-related prophecies? I got you. Specters and apparitions and what have you? Hell yeah. If there’s something strange--you get the gist. Call me. I got you. Moments of goddamn mystery. It’s a good title!

Now, though, let’s get to the point. What you’ve all been waiting for. That’s right, everybody, it’s time for updates on the weird stuff. We’ll get to theories, later, I just wanna get all the facts out there first.

First off: Benji Life Update, which is to say, uh, Danny and I are over, now. Unfortunately. It was mutual. So, I guess, no tape-clearance for Danny anymore. Sorry for those who made their tapes before me, who may have made their statements with Danny’s clearance in mind. It’s done. That part of my life is behind me. It was fun while it lasted, but, hey. All good things come to an end, right?

Second off: Time loop update. I refuse to call it Groundhog Daying like the others keep using in the group chat because fuck Bill Murray, but. Regardless. Time loop update. No new time loops! But yes new explanation as to what happened in the original timeline versus the real timeline. I’m not gonna get into semantics, here, but we are gonna call the day that got redone Timeline Prime. Like--the first time we did that day. Is Timeline Prime. The Primeline? Who knows. And the second one is Our Unfortunate Reality. So, anyway, in the Primeline, I opened the shop, and in Our Unfortunate Reality, Teresa did. Which made her miss her classes, and made me sleep through my alarm to drive out to Ainsley and pick up the merch deliveries. And, in the--

[Static]

DISTORTED VOICE:

Circle. Circle. Circle. Circle. Circle. Circle. Circle.

[BENJI]

BENJI:

So, anyway, uh. Basically, I should maybe fire myself? But considering that it’s my store, and I like to use the label ‘local business owner’ to introduce myself to people, I won’t. Ah, shit looks like my audio--my audio got rough, there. I’ll. I’ll check it back later. Sorry, listeners.

Speaking of the store, though, we have a new customer! Which, that’s not rare, necessarily, but we’re pretty reliant on our regulars. New people are always college students, right? But this person, he’s, like, fifty. Completely unremarkable. He keeps coming in, staring at the wall, and then leaving. One time, he took one of the complimentary temp tattoos that we give kids, so I guess he has kids? But he never says hi, never engages--he just. He stares. And I’m not here to judge, but, time-loop shit aside, I run a pretty tight ship, and, uh. I like to think of myself as somebody who knows everybody. Because, for the most part, I do.

So, like, it’s weird, right? Like--he doesn’t do anything, and, again, like. I don’t wanna judge, but--the thing is, I can’t remember a thing about this dude’s face. Just--he’s so, so boring. White dude, uh, average--pretty average height. No discernable features. And he--he spoke to me, once, and his voice sounded like it was through a dozen filters.

He said--uh. Shit. What did he say?

He said, uh.

Well. That’s noteworthy.

Anyway, his weird voice, and his, uh, his blandness, is a good segue into my personal favorite of the segments I’ve outlined. Which is to say, it’s Alien Time. Needs a catchier name, but. Oh well. That’s for later. It’ll come to me. Extraterrestrial Corner? Spaceman Zone?

So, here’s what we got, re colon the alien theory, and, look, I know some of you are sick of it. I know. But listen, Teresa keeps getting messages from her shadow-self or whatever about the moon, which is in space, and, hey, where are aliens from? That’s right. It’s space.

I sound batshit, which, fine, whatever, cool, great, but. Still.

And then, there are these creepy-ass people with entirely unremarkable faces. Which, again, not judging. I promise. But that I can’t remember anything that my guy said, even though I can remember his, like, cadence, or--that’s creepy. That’s paranormal. And that his voice was layered? That’s mega creepy.

See You Invader? As a title for this segment? It has some level of cleverness to it, I think.

Maybe? Vote now on your phones. Please. I’m--y’know, I’m sticking with it, I like it.

And then the school board that threw Char out of her speech thing. Those were--those were also kindq weird. And they seem similar to my experience.

But that she’s seen them before, that’s where it gets me, cuz you’d think, what with the, uh, what with the purple flashing sky and all, that, uh. That said aliens would have only shown up on New Years. But, see, that takes me to the idea that it’s been more of a slowburn, and that the Corielli board is, like, scouts, or something. That the big guys--which is to say, Teresa’s weird apparition lady, my new customer, those are the Big Bads. So, what does that mean about structure? Well, I’m glad you asked. See--

[STATIC]

DISTORTED VOICE:

Coincidence. Coincidence. Coincidence. Coincidence. Coincidence. Coincidence. Coincidence.

[STATIC]

BENJI:

So, in conclusion? Second moon maybe, aliens definitely, and ghosts very much so. Thank you.

So, next point, which is a question, rather than a point. Why us? Why the seven of us? Look, I get it, seven is a very literary number. If I were ghost aliens, which I am not, I would definitely go with three or seven people to fuck with. But are they fucking with us, or is there meaning behind it all?

So, uh. We all kind of knew each other? I guess? I was Facebook friends with Elaine, just cuz, as Robin’s honorary Alive Dad, I will be walking her down the aisle at their wedding, meaning there were only two connections to Elaine total, but everybody else at least sort of knew everybody else. And maybe it was the fireworks? Because Simon sold them to me out of his truck near the barber shop and told me to stay quiet about them. Though, also? They were probably illegal, so--

You get it. I know there are easier ways to get fireworks, but his are always so fucking cool and I wanted to feel proud in my pyrotechnic skills. But, hey, win some lose some, right? Right?

Or. No. I guess.

But. It can’t just be--in a situation this weird, it can’t be completely random that it was the seven of us, y’know? There’s gotta be the Big Prophecy, or the--the secret powers, or one of those things. The force that drew us all to that party at three AM, after everybody was already gone, the force that’s drawing us together. There’s gotta be something that brings this all together, that adds some kinda coherency, like--

I know that I shouldn’t expect storylines from life. That I’m--I’m not the main character in some story, that there aren’t cliffhangers or plot twists in this reality, but this reality feels like a comic book right now. So, yeah, I am waiting for Galactus to show up, or something. For some goddamned continuity, for something to click into place.

And that’s shitty of me, because nothing else has ever worked like that, so, uh, why should real-life-aliens work out like that? That’s pretty presumptuous of me. But, look. Listen.

When I was a kid, I always wanted to be a Mulder or a Dale Cooper or a Ripley or any given Rick Moranis character, and now--now I’m none of those. But this sorta thing, it gives me a chance, y’know? It--these are my monsters of the week, this is my search for the sister, this is me living out what was never written for me, y’know? It’s--I’m in this goddamn narrative, and even if this isn’t a narrative, I’m gonna make it one. Because why not! I--I’m working on self-love everyday, like Doc Claremont said. She’s my therapist. You know. Gotta get those life skills in place. Constantly improving. Letting myself be myself. Hell yeah.

So here’s the plot, so far, then. Seven outcasts--we’re all pretty outcast, I’d argue--stand alone on a beach, and, bam, flash of light, and bam, the world is dying, and then, darkness. Lost-style eye-zoom in, right, Michael Bay spin, and then we’re back on the beach. And then we get a coherent plot about time loops, and nothing else, because it is two-thousand-and-eighteen. And there are interwoven character webs, and interesting enough flashbacks, and--

And it makes sense. And it’s well-written, and it’s well drawn, and it has a really good cult fanbase that--you know. You get the gist.

Look, all I’m saying is that this doesn’t feel like it’s real, so why don’t we have fun with it? We’re seeing things that, as far as we know, no one else has seen before. We’re on the verge of something big, and. I don’t just feel it, I know it. In every corner of my mind, I’m sure of it. This is so important, this is--this is the most important thing I’ve done. And I’ve done a lot of important things, I think. At least a few of ‘em. I’m fairly accomplished. I can, uh, in the truly classic Sorkin-style, list my credentials, like--Graduated top of my class from Core--

[STATIC]

DISTORTED VOICE:

The Moon. The Moon. The Moon. The Moon. The Moon. The Moon. The Moon.

[STATIC]

BENJI:

--ran a five k without ever walking, and also without that much training, which is an accomplishment from a me perspective. And I got my scuba license last week based on a gut decision! I’m accomplished as hell.

Seriously, though, what’s going on with my audio? It’s like--it’s not even, like, weird feedback shit, it’s just, like. A weird test screen where there should be a solid two minutes of audio. Weird. Is--maybe I should get better software? I heard that this cheapass one wasn’t reliable, but I didn’t see this in any reviews or FAQs or whatever; I--

Hm.

[beat, typing]

Okay, a quick troubleshooting search, that’s not a thing! That’s--that’s genuinely not a thing that anyone’s reported before. I screenshotted, but, uh, the screenshot won’t load? So. Uh. I’m gonna check this out. So. Signing off. Need a sign off.

I hope to share another moment with you soon?

Yeah, it’s a shitty title.

Okay, until next time.

#transcripts #season 1 #benji #violet beach #violet beach podcast

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trulycertain · 8 years ago

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The WIP Post

Here, have some teasers/extracts from things I’m working on. All Shield Raised this time round. But when people ask, “Just how many ridiculous AUs do you have for these two?” I sort of have to answer.

Reprise (7/9)

“How did this happen?” Dorian’s all but snarling, and the troops are watching him, wide-eyed. He realises too late that there’s a smell of ozone in the air. He touches his hair and feels it rising under his fingers; he pushes it back, into some semblance of order, and gets himself under control. Kaffas. He hasn’t had this issue for years, since… he doesn’t know when.

(Since he watched Gal dying, thrashing before his eyes in that hideous green, and the magic came from him in desperate waves, the Veil tearing under his fingers as he tried to do something, anything.)

He continues his pacing, because movement, movement is something he can do with all this energy, and if he stops and thinks he might set someone on fire. “There were troops. There were mages. So tell me, how did this happen?” The anger is receding, and it sounds too much like a plea.

Josephine swallows and looks over her notes again, spreading the pieces of parchment across the war table. “There were…”

The door opens, and then Marius staggers and half-falls through. Dorian catches him just in time. Blood is seeping from a wound on his forehead, and his eyes are glazed. “We found more Venatori than we’d accounted for. We couldn’t…”

“You need to get that looked at,” Dorian says, as Josephine watches them with well-hidden worry. He tries not to remember another Tevene reject marching into a war room to stares and confusion, years ago. It’s times like these he misses Cullen. “How many more?” When there’s no response, the man just staring at the war table, Dorian presses, “Try not to faint on me. How many, Marius?”

“They carried him away before we could… Kaffas. Canavara, esta Venatori - ”

Dorian looks to Josephine and can tell she understands, or at least gets the gist. Not that there’s much to get; Marius is babbling.

She says gently, “And the rest of you?” She’s gentler than Dorian would have been. Asking bluntly, How many dead? probably wouldn’t inspire confidence.

“They still have the others. They said they would use them for.. for a blood ritual. They were in… Kaffas, they were in cages.”

“Were they planning to transport them?” Dorian demands.

“Not then. Perhaps later, they didn’t say...” Marius rubs at his forehead, and his hands come away bloody. “I’m sorry, I...” He lapses into silence, listing slightly.

“Josephine, can you...” Dorian starts.

“I will find him something to eat,” she says. “He appears to be in shock.”

“Thank you.” He hands over the shivering, bloody mage, who Josephine manages to support admirably, the way she does most things. Then he reaches out and feels the Veil: better-reinforced since Gal’s efforts, but it’s still little effort to reach through. He has enough mana. He can -

“You must send troops. Surely you can stay here.”

He looks sharply back to Josephine, who’s managing to project worried concern at him even with Marius listing against her. Am I that obvious? he wants to ask.

“You have a certain expression when you are planning,” she says, in answer to his unvoiced question. “But you must remain here, to - “

“No.” He doesn’t patronise her by starting an argument; they’re both better than that. His voice is quiet, but it is firm. “I sat here comfortably and sent troops, and this happened. Those are my people, my… Our soldiers and the Inquisitor – former Inquisitor, as if it bloody matters – are captive in Maker-knows-what conditions. I’m not about to sit and do paperwork when I should be...” He pinches the bridge of his nose, closes his eyes, because he can’t stand to look at all that sensible concern. “I should have been there.”

depth over distance

Gal doesn’t run. It’s fleeing and he won’t pretend, but he doesn’t run.

He doesn’t know how he finds himself there, but somewhere along the way Ostwick stone turns to sand, dipping beneath his boots. It’s been… three years. More. Must be. But his feet carry him until he’s standing, looking out at the ocean and feeling the breeze against his face.

He closes his eyes. Thinks of his mother’s words and her pale face and They’ll laugh at you, they’ll drag your name through the mud...

No. He blinks against the sun in his eyes. He’d forgotten how warm it was here, after months in Ferelden and in the Frostbacks. The sea is here in front of him but vast, a blue ribbon to the horizon. Calm and bright, sparkling in the sun, like it was when he was twelve and it looked like the world, and twenty and it was the only place his parents couldn’t find him, and now, when it’s...

Home’s a fortress and a warm voice in his ear and cursing in Tevene at dropped books. Home’s salt and the wind in his hair and knowing he hasn’t given in yet, and it has been for years.

The boots are the first to go. He steps out of them, and then throws aside the socks, too, keeps walking. The sand’s warm between his toes. Then he throws aside his hairtie and the stiff tabard; the things he only wears for court, that he used to wear for his mother’s bloody parties. (My son turned quickly to my guest. It always does, in the end.)

Sand turns to sea, water lapping at his feet. He keeps going, tosses aside his shirt. He should do something about the breeches, or at least care; once he would have.

Please tell me there are tales of skinny dipping, he remembers Dorian saying, grinning fiendishly, and he’d responded sheepishly, Maybe a few. He’d said, I miss the sea. Ostwick’s coastal. Always made me feel better being near it, like that explained it. Like that was even half of it.

It’s been hot recently – Ostwick often is, this time of year – but the water’s still bracing. He inhales and keeps going. The cold’s almost enough -

My own son, and I passed you on like chattel.

Almost enough.

He remembers being twenty-one and being told he was going to marry one of the de Launcets, and this time he wouldn’t escape it. They’d already found him when he’d run from the Chantry. He remembers wading in and thinking he could just keep walking. Not come back. Quiet and simple. He remembers going back and ending up with another tattoo because at least the pain was a decent distraction and it reminded him he was… well. He absentmindedly touches the design on his hip, runs his hands over waves of ink, then shoves them back into the sea and keeps wading.

He left you, Galahad. He’s probably already found someone new.

He left you.

When the water reaches his chest, he holds his breath and ducks under –

And then there’s only the cold on his face and the roar of water in his ears and the shock in his system. It drowns everything else out, and it’s…

Enough.

He surfaces, gasping and then grinning at the sky like he’s Fade-touched, pushing soaking hair out of his face and blinking at the sun.

Sodding cold, he remembers some nobles’ son hissing, shivering, and he’d just grinned and replied, Tells you you’re alive.

You mad bastard, Dorian had said, the time Gal dived in at the Storm Coast – but he’d been grinning, and he’d added, Have you ever had a spell-warm towel, by the way? I’ll be here when you want to shiver your way back onto shore, amatus.

Gal stands there, looking at the Waking Sea. Vast and bigger than any of this, but… He’s been through the Fade and through half of Thedas. A sea’s not so far. Two months isn’t that long. He looks out to the horizon – not like he’ll see Tevinter, but he closes his eyes and knows there’s a tired mage on another coast thinking of him. It’s enough.

He thinks of the nearly-last thing he said to his mother, the thing that made them both stop and stare. Never something he thought he’d want, but… there’s a lot about him that’s changed. Maybe this one’s Dorian’s fault too. He tilts his head, considers it, and then throws himself back into the water. Might as well swim, now he’s here.

that not-actually-a-villain AU

He remembers Josephine’s words. You must be careful, Galahad. We know the lord is Venatori, and his asking to meet with you is surely a trap.

He’d shrugged. I ought to go. It worked out well last time I walked into one.

He remembers that twisted Redcliffe. The song all around him and the sky torn open. Red lyrium tang on the tongue. Leliana dying with the Chant half-said. Being certain he’d be next. And then the strange rift that pulled him into the present, left him gasping and bloody on a stone floor but alive enough to defeat Alexius.

He’s shown into a study. A fire and a few candles cast low light, and shadows flicker on the walls. Past the couches, a desk is littered with papers - he sees strange symbols and equations, and one looks like it’s… something about reversing temporal flow? But that’s impossible. He squints at it. Looks again. It almost seems like…

“That one took me three days to solve. Impressive, isn’t it?”

He tries not to show his surprise, and probably fails. He glances behind him and can’t stop himself from saying, “You’re manipulating rifts.”

“In a minor way, yes. Nothing compared to what you can do, but then I have less to work with. My pathway to the Fade isn’t nearly so direct.” The Tevinter sits on one of the couches, gestures to the other. “Please, rest your legs. Marching here to kill me must have been exhausting.”

Fuck.

Gal makes his way to the couch and lowers himself onto it, looking around. The servants have gone, and it looks like they’re alone, though if he believes that then he really is the Herald of Andraste. He looks at the man who’s called him here, and he admits, he’s surprised. He’d expected some grey, hook-nosed magister with spiked robes and armed guards. Instead he’s sitting opposite a man who can’t be older than him by much, if anything, who’s wearing simple battlemage leathers. Not that it matters.

He tries to find the words. “Why would I be here to kill you?”

The Tevinter - Pavus, that was it - smiles. “Because I’m Venatori, of course.” He lifts a decanter. “Brandy?”

that weird time travel thing

Dorian is nineteen, and the world has just ended. It’s his own fault, of course. He misread the signals, and he made a foolish, stupid attempt... He just hadn’t expected to be rejected so thoroughly. Or publicly. He didn’t especially appreciate the split lip, either. He supposes he’d given Saul more credit.

It might have been salvageable if the bastard hadn’t gone to his father. He could have dealt with anything but the look of disappointed horror. I will deal with him, Father had said. And then there had been the talk about this being a phase, and discretion, and the family name - it’s always the family name, as if a house that has lasted through generations and Blights and the Magisterium’s disapproval will be destroyed by a bit of buggery. Shouting is easy enough to grow deaf to, but the quiet disappointment, the resignation, they’re more difficult to deal with.

His father, for all his neat words about phases and being too young to know what you want, Dorian, is beginning to realise. This isn’t something to grow out of and cast aside; he will always be this, and there will never be a woman, an exception to marry and have miserable but acceptable heirs with. And it’s the bloody shame in his father’s eyes. All the prizes, all the spells... It’ll never be enough, because his son is this, and it disgusts him.

He could take family friends’ scorn if it came to it, he could even take the rejections and the blows - but his father seeing the truth of who he is and turning away from him? A different matter entirely.

And so he’s here, sitting in the darkness of his room, wondering if there’s anything decent to drink. Likely a pointless consideration, because his father will no doubt have locked it away. He’s about to head for the study - his father will have left already, probably to apologise to the Valerius family for the attempted besmirching of their son’s honour - when there is a flash, a clatter.

He steps back, quietly reaching for the staff he’s propped against the bookcase, and he has a grip on it when the smoke clears.

In his room is... a man, apparently, sprawled inelegantly across the floor. Big, looking like any other soldier, except for the long hair that can’t be regulation, the lack of one arm and the unfamiliar armour. The stranger coughs, attempting to climb to his feet, before looking up. And then freezes.

There’s something about his eyes... Dorian doesn’t know why a shiver runs up his spine, or why he lowers his staff. He tries to keep his voice level, calm, as he says, “Is there a reason you’re ruining the carpets?”

Knight Shop daftness

“So. Modern History.”

The sound of hammering stops. There are steps, and then Gal’s leaning around the door, and those startlingly blue eyes are squinting at him. “Who told you?”

“Your professor, actually. I’d forgotten how much of a bore Wilhelm can be when he starts on the brandy.” He sees the inevitable wariness and says, “No, it wasn’t intentional, yes, it was a coincidence. I hadn’t expected you to come up in conversation.” He sighs. “Here I’d hoped for something more… medieval. The disappointment is crushing, you know.”

Gal’s eyes narrow further. “You’ll live. Give me back that tape measure.”

He complies with a raised brow, playing at hardship.

Gal hesitates, exhaling. “I do quite like the medieval era,” he says, as he heads back into the room. “I just wanted something more… relevant. Considered Political Science.”

“Was there a reason for this sudden interest in academia? Most people start before twenty-nine.”

“I wanted to do it myself.” Gal looks intent on his measuring, but it must be an act. He also seems to be thinking over his words carefully before he speaks, as if seeking to be diplomatic. “Had a few jobs. My parents weren’t impressed.”

“Were they the sort who wanted to shuffle you straight off to Oxbridge?”

A low noise that might be a snort. “There’s that. But Trevelyans don’t work. Not unless they’re surgeons, or barristers.”

…Ah. He can’t help himself. He moves closer and takes a seat on the bed, wondering why he feels like a visitor in what’s meant to be his room. “I didn’t know you were one of that clan.”

Definitely a snort, sharp and without humour. “Most people don’t.”

#wips #shield raised

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