#there weren't any major crimes or anything

[yandere-daydreams]

You probably answered this already but I saw that you did not like the League of Legends Netflix show and I was wondering why you didn’t like it. Not trying to convince you to like it or anything, I’m just nosy.

it's obviously just my personal experience with Arcane, but i really just found it to be a very,,, 'look very pretty, do very little' show, for lack of a kinder way to say it. the bones were good, but the plot and characters were so padded and watered down, it felt like anything they had to say was buried beneath a smothering dose of cooperate-mandated puritan values and just a dash of queer baiting. any real ugliness shown by the main cast was saved for nameless background characters that the audience wouldn't really care about or, even better, literally just animals, and it really felt like a lot of the characters just,,, weren't that interesting? or didn't have enough to do? it's hard to pinpoint what the issue is, but there's definitely a problem and it definitely had a very specific impact on my experience.

there were parts that seemed to have a lot of love and care put into them (it literally turned into a different show whenever Jinx was on screen), but the grand majority of it was just,,, very pretty, very okay filler that definitely had something to say, but nothing to do beyond saying it. it was just really, really dissatisfying.

tldr; Jinx was great. everything that was not Jinx was,,, less great.

[huexuri]

i have a thought! soob sending u a whimper audio or a lewd ass clip of him playing w himself bc he's so desperate for u to come back lol

yes omgeeee anon u are so smart !!!! i was thinking of something like this earlier but this seems like a better idea😭 also u are my first ask THANK UUUUUYYYUUUU

⋆ please come home (switch!soobin x switch!reader)

NSFW, MDNI!

(warnings: soob is switch(very sub lean) in this, reader is switch(dom lean), fem!reader, protective!soob, bratty!soob, degrading, masturbating, whimpering, sexting, dry humping, pet names: [good boy, baby, slut] thigh humping, tell me if there's more!)

note: ive been dying to get a request like this omg what a way to start the new year (HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERUONE)

"soob," you sighed.

you'd only be going out for a few hours to a party that one of your girlfriends practically begged you to go to, and since you haven't met her since the pandemic, of course you agreed to go. yet when soobin said himself that he absolutely didn't mind yesterday night, it didn't occur to you that 5 minutes before you head out, he'd be holding on to your arm asking who's gonna be there, where are you off to, etc. maybe it's just one of his protective traits, but you two agreed on this, so you weren't sure why he was so protective of you now.

"just promise you're not gonna go and let other guys hit on you okay? you know you get tipsy so easily right? i'm not saying i don't trust you at all ... i just don't want other guys to look at you! because you're so pretty in this dress... but only my eyes are allowed on you right? just don't go ar—"

"soobin!! i won't drink or anything okay? don't worry about me so much, just send me a message when you feel lonely okay? i'll talk to you on the phone if you need to. it's gonna be fine, soob.." you cut his words off, gave him a peck on the lips, smiled at him with reassurance and waved him a goodbye before he smiled back at you hesitantly.

"bye!! be safe!!!" was what soobin yelled as you were about to shut the front door, and all you could respond with was a louder "mhm!!!!" followed by the door flying shut.

an hour later, and you're sitting at the bar gossipping with all of your girlfriends. other than that, they constantly persuade you to drink. but knowing you, after one shot you go all red... which, sipping your iced water you decline their offer... over and over and over again. they just won't stop bugging you!!!,, so, you excuse yourself to the bathroom just to text your beloved.

sneaking yourself into a stall, you open your chat box to realize you'd left him on delivered for an hour ... "damn," you muttered to yourself, feeling bad that you possibly left him worried, but only 2 unread messages greet you with : "i miss you already!!:(" followed by a 2 minute long voice note.

you immediately plug in your earphones, ready to listen to whatever song he wanted to sing or whatever gossip he had to tell you.

"haa... miss you s-so bad.... mmh... come home pretty please?—a-ah fuck....."

immediately your eyes widened at the lewd sounds he made, you paused the voice note with a look on your face as if you just got caught commiting a crime. it caught you SO off guard, that was the thing you least expected ...., he knew you had a thing for his moans. in fact, it was one of your major turn-ons.. but soobin was never a vocal person in bed, he'd deny it even. if he made any sounds, he'd get flustered immediately. he thought it made him seem too feminine, so he never believed you when you said you liked it.

was this really him? you thought to yourself..

your finger hesitantly pressed the resume button on your screen.

"f-fuck, baby.. i'm c-cumming, aah,, you like it? come... c-come back for it.. ss—shit !!.."

2 minutes in, the audio coming to an end, you felt your thighs squeeze against each other, you felt your walls clench around nothing. my god, he sounded heavenly. you could hear the squelches of him stroking himself up and down, you could practically hear his pace fasten as his breaths became more irregular and his moans slowly increase in volume. you could literally tell when he busted all over himself. and oh, you did not know how much this aroused you until today.

screw this party, screw the drinks. he SO knew how to get you to come back home.

"i'm coming." you simply sent him, then you get ready to leave. after you left the stall, with a "sorry everyone, i have to go back, it's urgent.", you hastily left the party.

you practically bust the door open when you reach back to your apartment, panting as you see soobin lying on the couch scrolling away on his phone as if he didn't just get you leaking out of your panties. this son of a bitch, seriously.... teasing like that and acting like nothing happened??

"oh hey! you're finally back!! i missed you~" soobin happily exclaimed as got off the couch and walked up to you to give you a peck.

when you don't reply, he has the audacity to ask you what's wrong. towering over you, he still acts cute and ignorant until you nudge him against the door as it flings shut. your knees are in between his slightly bent legs and immediately you shove your lips into his, cupping his face as your tongues fight for dominance. your free hand reaches down to his bulge to stroke it through his pants. he moans into your mouth and oh my fucking god did it turn you on even more. how badly did you miss his beautiful voice? you could feel his erection start to fill in the space in your palm as it grew bigger and harder. pulling away from the kiss with both of you panting, soobin only pouts at you..

"what did i doooo? why so rough?" he looked at you with glistening, innocent eyes. not so innocent though, because he knew what he was fucking doing.

squeezing his clothed cock in response, he let out a soft moan at that. "soobin you fucking brat ... you KNOW what you're doing." you say in between breaths.

in a blink of an eye he'd flipped you over, now your back leaning the door with a soft thud, "brat, huh? say it again.." soobin responded, with a smug smile on his face.

when you don't respond but smash your lips back onto his, his dominant composure melts away into your kiss and he desperately grinds against your bare thighs. you rock your hips in response and his moan travels down your throat again. your hand wanders around, tugs on his waistband and sinks under, where now you feel the material of his boxers and his cock that twitches in your palm. your other hand runs up his shirt and tugs at his nipple, which he bucks his hips in response. he finally pulls away from the kiss, this time sloppier, and runs a finger though your hair. you took your hand off his boxers and your other hand out of his shirt, and placed them both on his shoulders.

"do you want it?" you muttered.

"i've been waiting for so long," soobin whispered, barely able to make out words.

"promise that you'll put those vocals to use?"

"y-yes."

now your hands leaving his shoulders and holding onto his wrist, you lead him to the sofa and pushed him onto his back.

"couldn't even wait until i came home, huh.." you muttered as you quickly unbuckled your tight leather dress. soobin only looked up at you with eager eyes when your dress fell off of your shoulders, exposing your body to the cold air. throwing the dress on the ground, you pull his pants down as well. just as he was going to take off his boxers you grabbed his wrist, and instead sunk down onto his hard on, the both of you clothed.

"but—"

"soobin, patience.."

you interlocked your fingers with his and started to grind down on him. his precum and your slick starts to seep through the cloth and soon you were sloppily humping him. he didn't lie when he said he was going to put those vocals to use, because as you rocked against him, he let out the most heavenly sounds you'd ever heard from him. those broken moans, only he could see how badly it turned you on. his fucked out face and his wet hair weren't helping either.

"i r-really want to cum ... p-please!—" soobin was only able to mumble between whimpers.

"not yet, hang in there..." you cupped his face, then thrusting a finger into his mouth. "take it like the good boy you are, and maybe i'll let you cum in me.."

soobin only nodded in response, his eyes squeezed shut as he sucked on your finger like his life depended on it — his saliva coating every surface of your finger.

"gooood boy... so needy just for me... huh? sent me a clip of you playing with yourself just so i can help you finish?"

his eyes fluttered open with the neediest look someone could ever look up at you from, in response to the pet name. you smiled at that and let him release your fingers. you pulled down your soaked panties and motioned him to do the same, he looked at you with a "really?" kind of look, and when you assured him, his cock immediately sprung out of his boxers— tip fiery red and shaft twitching like it's deprived of touch.

"do you wanna fuck me?" you said as you lied down on your back, looking down at him, looking like he's been desperate to fuck you.

"oh my god.." soobin panted.

soobin positioned himself in between your legs, his twitching cock against your aching cunt, he looked at you with a final confirmation.

"go ahead, baby."

with one full thrust he thrusted into you. unaware about his bigness, when you winced slightly in pain he was worried if he'd done anything. but since he was so desperate... you didn't want to ruin his moment, so you let him.

"s-soobin... fuck.."

"shit, baby.. you're so fucking— t-tight..."

eventually, your walls had moulded into the shape of him, and each thrust became less and less painful, more and more pleasurable. you were so focused on how good he felt when it caught you off guard that he started to play with your clit, long, veiny fingers flicking up and down on your swollen bud as he thrusted in and out of you at a controlled pace.

"fuck, fuck— when did you— get this g-good with your fingers... mmh..." you muttered.

soobin looked down at you with a satisfied smile and continued to rub circles on your clit,, soon his thrusts became sloppier, strings of saliva mixed with all sorts of other bodily fluids connecting soobin's body with yours...

"i'm—fuck, c-can i please!! please please... please let me c-cum.. mmh—!" soobin moaned, with obvious need in his voice, beads of tears welling up at his eyes, sweat dripping down his chest and soaking his shirt,,

"s-soobin... you can cum, baby ..... s-shit i—i'm—" your voice shakey, you could feel yourself reaching your climax. you fisted his shirt and pulled him closer to you, now chest to chest, you pulled him in a sloppy kiss, he moaned into you as you felt his warm seed fill you up to the brim.

you both stayed like this for a whole 5 minutes in silence. you thought he'd fallen asleep until..

"thank you.." soobin whispered.

"what?"

"thank you for coming back home."

"mm.."

"do you really like it when i'm vocal?"

"are you fucking serious, soobin?" you playfully smacked his back in a effort to hit him.

you could feel soobin grin against your ear.

"let's go get you cleaned up, pretty." soobin patted your head as he got off of you.

"hey, you too.." you weakly responded.

soobin could only giggle at that, and you scoffed.

[queerprayers]

hi johanna! i want to try going to church, but feel self-conscious. i live in a small town, my friends are not religious and my family is ex-christian. i'm worried about people judging me, even though i know that shouldn't matter. some of my family seem embarrassed of how christian we used to be and they'd be surprised i want to go to church. i feel equally worried about walking into a church where everyone knows everyone but me or seeing someone i know! any thoughts are welcome. love your blog!

Hello, beloved!

I'm sure you're not alone in this situation—honestly, it can be kinda embarrassing to genuinely want to participate in faith, the way it's embarrassing to be earnest about anything. People who aren't religious can completely misunderstand the motivations and experiences of religious people, and while I don't know why your family left religion, both people who just weren't all that into it and people who have been hurt by or have serious issues with the church can be (sometimes understandably) antagonistic toward people who stay or join. 

Perhaps judgment "shouldn't" matter—but it does, to most everyone. Something something how our brains are wired to desire acceptance—I'm not a psychologist. It makes sense and it's okay. Caring what people think often coexists with empathy—they're both awareness of others, desiring good emotions in others. But we cannot let empathy become fear of ourselves. Empathy extends to our own souls too. Being genuinely faithful in the face of judgment from outside and within your communities takes strength. Creating a life of your own is terrifying. This isn't fair, but it is our calling. 

In recent years, I've embraced the uncool-ness of my earnestness—my beloved amalgam of philosophy and religion that started as an apocalyptic cult and was co-opted by empire and has a lot of weirdos and needs to repent of its crimes and has produced some of the most beautiful art in the world and that attracts people to the walls of churches even after everything. I'm almost glad in some ways that it's not the assumption anymore that everyone is Christian, that more and more you have to go out of your way to be part of this thing. (I'm not completely naive—I know that where I live is a majority Christian country, and I am not pretending oppression or minority status or counterculture. But I am often met with surprise that I'm Christian, and I treasure that.)

The small town thing is its own beast—I live in a city (small but I think it counts), but I currently go to church half an hour away in a very rural area, and there's a specific environment of knowing everyone that I only have a tiny experience with but can imagine how exposed it must feel to try something new or change your life in any small way. And there is definitely a small church culture that can feel intimidating, like sitting at a new table in high school, wondering if somewhere tight knit has room for another. I can never promise this, but I know with my church and many others, welcoming a new person into that tight knit community is the most natural thing in the world. You'll probably get a more personal welcome, and be invited to more potlucks, and I can't promise someone there won't know your mom, but it's doable even as an introvert. Church people want more people at church—in lovely communal ways or in evangelistic ways, and while I hope you meet the former, even the latter has its own welcome. There are definitely ways to dip your toes in the water of church without braving this—like visiting a church while you're out of town, or tuning into a virtual service—but I believe in you to take it a step further. If you come a few minutes late and leave a few minutes early to avoid any conversation, I salute you. If you see someone you know and flee the other direction, I understand. If you go once and have to wait a few months to be brave enough to go back, so be it. But you have as much a right to exist on holy ground as anyone, and you already have common ground to stand on because you want to be there, just like them. I don't know how many churches are near you, but you're already going outside your comfort zone, so you might as well step into one that you're not familiar with—a more traditional mass, or a hippie sing-along. Don't set limits on your journey that is about pushing past limits.

You want to try this out, and it probably feels lonely, and you'll have to stomach surprise and probably being looked down upon by people who feel they know better, feel they have evolved past the need for silly little ritual, or for whom religion only exists as closed-mindedness. I don't know if you're queer, but I've had similar experiences of being the one to embrace where God and my heart lead me, to the embarrassment or shame of those who have never encountered it or have stifled it within themselves.  You'll have to stand your ground, the way anyone who seeks something their family and friends don't has to do. Formulate some answers for questions you may receive—but no one has a right to your story. You're allowed to be casual about things that are deeply personal, you can say "I don't know, I was just curious" when everything in your soul is calling out for this. Being publicly faithful often comes after you've done the reconciling within yourself. Have patience.

If you're into saints, find some who have gone their own way—Francis of Assisi comes to mind. I even think of Moses, telling a member of his own adoptive family to let his people go, standing his ground for people he had only recently come to love. The faithful that have come before us had to live through—and die from—so much. Entering new communities has always needed strength, the strength of God. Often a lonely way at first, but your family's embarrassment or your friends' lack of understanding is not your burden. Their judgment is on them to swallow down or bear the guilt of acting on it. Your choices and calling is for them to reconcile. I'm not saying we should do whatever we want without regard for how it affects others, but you are not causing harm, and any tension will not have been created by you going to church, but by them disliking or not understanding this fact. And tension is sometimes necessary for people to reconcile with—it'll be good for them. You're probably doing them a favor—we all need to learn how to love people the way they will need to. It sucks to feel like a teaching tool, and I don't want to reduce you to that, but so often living a full life means people who can't deal with that have to learn. Looking at someone embracing what you never found a way to flourish within or understand is like looking at the sun sometimes—I've been there. But it is not for us to apologize for the light. And it often happens that being that light will move someone else to bravery.

I'm sorry it falls on you to be brave first. I'm sorry that religion is not simple or easy, but genuine desire can and will take you so far. I have a hunch that after the first time, a lot of things will make more sense. Beginning is half of the journey sometimes. If you've already begun since writing this, I'm very proud of you, and if you haven't, you have so much beautiful time. Faith is not all or nothing, and it is never too late. Life does not begin and end in your small town, and life can and will flourish—you are part of such a big world and history, for better and worse.

God is with you, regardless. God is right there, walking with you, moving your feet over the threshold of places you muster so much bravery just to enter. What shouldn't matter but does, deeply, heartbreakingly, can be both taken seriously and let go of, through the peace of Christ.

<3 Johanna

[ssouhekii]

wᵢₜₕ ₜₕₑₘ ° . * . ● ☆ • ° .

ᶠᵉᵐ!ᶠʸᵒᵈᵒʳ, ᶠᵉᵐ!ⁿⁱᵏᵒˡᵃⁱ, & ᶠᵉᵐ!ˢʰⁱᵇᵘˢᵃʷᵃ ˣ ᵍⁿ!ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ ʰᶜˢ

warnings: none

a/n: I tried to find the most accurate feminine version of each name. i wasn't sure whether to turn nicole's surname into a feminine version or not, because of the debate about gogol being ukrainian or russian. i kept the surname the same, so sorry if it's inaccurate. not proofread!

Feodora Dostoevskaya

- Her chief love language is acts of service, though these acts could border on terrifying if you weren't the one recieving the favors.

- You'd never doubt that she loves you, though, because to commit a crime for someone is the ultimate act of love.

- You think.

- She'll take care of any major inconvenience for you without you even mentioning it to her.

- If someone had stolen your identity, she'd find them, steal their identity back, and take you on a shopping spree.

- She has eyes everywhere, so never try to hide something that's burdening you. She'll figure it out, and help you fix it anyways.

- Feodora has never known how to express herself truthfully all that well. She may not be able to write a searingly beautiful love poem to the one she loves most, or show them a boombox below their bedroom window and blast a song to declare her love, but she can do other things.

- Her other favorite thing to do for you is play music. Nothing makes dear Feodora happier than seeing you in her audience, big or small, for the cello.

- Aside from cello, she can also play the piano and the harp.

- Feodora mostly plays classical music. However, she'd maybe be convinced to learn a pop or rock song for you. Only for you, though.

- She's also a great listener. She'd love to hear anything you have to say, losing her analytical skills as she gets lost in your voice.

- The only thing that the genius "demon" of the Decay can't figure out is how to stop biting her nails.

- Luckily, you're there to help, buying her press ons or even very short acrylics to stop her biting.

- Unfortunately, rats have very strong teeth. She appreciates the effort, and does her best to stop, though.

Nicole Gogol

- Nicole's chief love language is gifts.

- Whenever she sees you, she'll bring you something. It may be small, just a rock she found or a deck of cards, or it may be huge.

- Like, she-snuck-a-car-into-her-overcoat-large.

- The types of gifts will depend on how you react to them.

- If you get easily freaked out, she'd love to bring you someone's eyeball from her escapades for halloween, or matching lockets with both of your hair for your birthday.

- You're still not sure how she got your hair, and she won't tell you. A magician never reveals her secrets.

- However, if you're not all that squeamish, she'll surprise you in other ways.

- Have you ever seen an albino cat? A two-headed snake? A three-eyed fish? Have you?

- She'll take strange things from any circuses or shows she's travelled with, either to give or just to show you.

- Of course, she wanted to give you all the two headed animals, but you said there wasn't enough space in the house.

- You may serve as the voice of reason in the relationship, but Nicole has smarts of her own.

- She loves to read philosophy books with you, and ramble about her own theories.

- Even if you don't understand, she's glad you listen.

- Nicole loves to put on little magic shows, just for you.

- You've seen every attemptible trick in the book, and you wouldn't hesitate to see any of them again.

- Nicole moves so smoothly when she performs her tricks, and performs them so delicately that you're reminded of how much she cherishes you.

- She wouldn't do any of this for anyone else.

- Occasionally you even get to play assistant to Nicole, watching doves flit away while her arm wraps around you and holds you tight.

- You're always in the audience for dangerous tricks, though. She doesn't think she could bear to see you hurt.

- By the way, Nicole is really strong. Really, really strong. When she works out in the mornings, you often serve as a weight for her push ups.

Tatsumi Shibusawa

- Tatsumi's chief love language just has to be words of affirmation.

- Though she'll shower you with gifts and pay unending attention to you. her favorite thing is to compliment you.

- You are, after all, more amazing than any jewel she's ever seen.

- She loves to show off and impress you. Tatsumi is very vain, so seeing your eyes on her in wonder puts her on top of the world.

- She often tailors clothes for you. She knows your measurements by heart, and many visits to her have been accompanied by a gasp of surprise at a whole outfit completely unprompted.

- Speaking of which, you can expect to wear lots of matching clothes now.

- Whenever you go out, you're often matching. If not a full outfit, you both at least have silver necklaces on.

- Though cold, Tatsumi is a very sentimental person. She will keep anything you give her, and even a paper heart will recieve the same care as one of her crystals.

[wolfiafuntime]

About The Church of Fontaine's High Priest

There's not enough Fontaine characters to make a 'About the Cultists V', so I made this instead!

For those unfamiliar- this is a Sagau! Modern Cult AU! And I recommend reading this quick brain rot that started it all.

Ft. Modern! Cultist! Neuvillette X Gn! Creator! Reader (only mentioned)

Tw: Cults, kids being in cults, murder, abuse, child abuse, grief, a descent into madness, and intentional lowercase in some parts.

Published: October 16, 2023 (posted at 12:01 am)

Words: 1,670

Pages: 5

 He was introduced to the cult via his ex-wife, whom he had a rough divorce with, Egeria Amrita, when he learned she had moved both herself and their shared daughter, Furina, to an unknown location. And he thought about joining when multiple family lawyers in the cult had brought up a loophole that would allow him to be closer to his daughter. But he didn't actually do anything until he learned who owned the mountain-bound house.

 Zhongli Xiangsheng.

 His childhood friend; who had gotten him and five others to join a group called the O-Sovereigns. A group who went on adventures everyday, sparred everyday, and traded everyday. A group who's majority never noticed that they went wherever zhongli said, always lost to zhongli, and gave nearly everything to zhongli for free. And, a group who zhongli had, without any punishment, murdered.

 And it was his fault.

 For when he awoke after spending months in a medically-induced coma, he was too afraid to testify against his former friend. And so he lied, claiming he didn't remember anything about the incident. And he continued to lie, even when he was told that he might be accused for the crime. He never was, though. And zhongli, despite all of the evidence against him, got off with only weakly therapy sessions.

 Logically, as an adult, as a former lawyer, and as a current judge, he knows that zhongli could not have been sent to jail. For Teyvat State had no laws stating that murderous children under the age of ten had to be imprisoned. But he cannot help but hate zhongli, and himself, for what they he had done.

 And so he had to join. To protect all of the innocent people zhongli had tricked. And he kept a hidden, written record of every illegal act zhongli had committed. Unfortunately, most of the crimes weren't that severe. For the people were consenting to living there, and consenting to their poor diets. The only people he could get arrested were the child abusers; which was tricky, but he managed.

 He spent his time taking care of those kids. Teaching them various things, from math to home economics. The only things he didn't teach were physical education, and the false history Zhongli had created. Still, his teachings got him the nickname 'Papa', especially from the cult's girls.

 Things stayed like that for years. Stalk zhongli (something everyone did), report child abusers (everyone thought they abandoned their grace), and teach children. Stalk zhongli, report child abusers, and teach children. Stalk, report, teach. Things got a lot harder when zhongli divided the cult into eight different compounds, though. He couldn't stalk zhongli, for he was bouncing between the temple of liyue and the adeptal domain. He couldn't report child abusers, for the church of fontaine was built to reflect 'fontaine's love-filled personality', so there were none. And he couldn't teach children, for Egeria, who had been gifted position of hydro archon, didn't want him 'ruining anymore families'.

 But he never gave up. He stuck at it, and worked his way up to the position of high priest by gaining the love of the church's victims. And Egeria, a true believer in their grace and lord fontaine, was forced to oblige. But deep down, she was seething. She hated him for divorcing her. She loathed him for moving in with her and Furina. And she resented him for making everyone believe he was a fellow worshipper.

 How could she tell? Well, the better question would be: How could she not? She had been in a romantic relationship with him for nearly two decades. They were living together for almost eighteen of them, and married for sixteen of them. It was only natural she knew all of his tells. The only thing she didn't have against him was evidence to show to her beloved Zhongli. Her beloved Morax. Her beloved Rex Lapis.

 So she started gathering it. Egeria made her own journal, and started documenting her own evidence. She used her position as Archon, and his position as High Priest to stalk him. And stalk him, and stalk him. She was determined in her faith in Their Grace, and even more determined in her love for Rex Lapis.

 Because the moment she saw him, Egeria knew she had found her soulmate. A kind, loyal man, who wouldn't dare put his job before her like her ex-husband had. One who's only dedication was spreading the love his late spouse and children had given him. And she was determined to get that same love for herself- and her daughter. And every meeting, meal, and night spent with him convinced her that she was getting closer to that goal.

 But sadly, Egeria never had the best memory, nor was she the best at multitasking. So when she took up the job of stalking her ex-husband, she started neglecting her beloved dragon. A fact that, while not immediately noticed, was still obvious fairly quickly. So, Morax and a small group of Adepti stopped by the Church of Fontaine. Morax, as he deserved, soaked up the attention and celebration, his very presence distracting everyone in the Church. Even the High Priests.

 Leaving the Adepti free to roam about. Or rather, leaving them free to search the Church from top to bottom. The first place they looked was Egeria's private room, but she was paranoid of her ex-husband to keep her journal in a place so obvious. Then they searched the High Priest's private room, and similarly, he was paranoid of anybody to keep his journal in a place so vulnerable. And so, the pair kept their journals in separate locations.

 The Adepti spent an entire day, night, and another day searching for the evidence of her betrayal, with absolutely no breaks inbetween. It wasn't until the sunset of the second day that they found one of the books- hidden in a box under a tree the High Priest visited with the church's children. But no one but the priest himself knew that.

 The journal was mistaken to be Egeria's. And upon reading it, Rex Lapis believed that the woman's sudden lack of contact was because she planned on bringing it to the police. And despite all of the believers he had in the city's police force, he couldn't risk it. In a panic, he burned the book and lead Egeria out to a nearby river, where he drowned her for her crimes against him. Ironically, the location wasn't that far from where she had kept her own book hidden.

 A place the high priest had soon searched when zhongli had announced it. Claiming that their grace, themself, had reappeared to personally take Egeria's soul to meet their family.

 He cried for months after that.

 'If only I had exposed the cult sooner!'

 'If only I had kept the book better hidden!'

 'If only I had never made the book!'

 'If only I had never joined this accursed cult!'

 'If only I had never divorced her!'

 'If only I had told the truth about Zhongli!'

 'If only I had never joined his horrible group!'

 'If only I had never met Zhongli!'

 'If only I had someone to save me from this turmoil!'

 Soon, though, he met that someone.

 He was introduced to them via his daughter, Furina, who had been appointed the new Hydro Archon for convincing an orphanage full of little girls to run away to the Church of Fontaine. This someone, of course, was none other than Their Grace, the kind and loving and just Creator of all. A being so righteous they came out of hiding to free his ex-wife from her unrecognized imprisonment. And in return, he would do all that he could to spread the justice the Creator was capable of.

 And thankfully, his eccentric daughter was more than accepting of this fact.

 Together, the pair made new virtues and sins to benefit this new belief. His daughter might of went a tad overboard, but as her subordinate, he'd have to make do. Thankfully, the majority of the people were surprisingly accepting of the sudden change. More accepting than the Temple of Sumeru's change in Archon, at the very least. Or, uh, more accepting of Lord Sumeru's rebirth. That's what he meant...

 Nowadays, The High Priest spends his time reading about the sins committed by members of the Church, and judging them for their actions. Making sure to give everyone a fair punishment, just like his Savior. Sadly, he does not have that much time to spend with the children, but he makes up for it by letting them style his hair and choose his outfit in the mornings. And by remembering the face, name, and birthday of each one.

 He currently works as a Judge at the Opera Courthouse, choosing punishments for abusers, assaulters, and murderers. And, despite his vow to help his fellow cultists, he cannot stop himself from punishing them harder. For those who have had their eyes opened to the truth of the universe, should know not to commit such horrible acts. And he is not afraid to state this fact to anybody within the cult, whether they be from other Churches or Temples, or even morax himself.

 Due to his position, he never had to leave the Church of Fontaine. Something he was quite happy to hear, as it gives him more time to make up for every prayer he missed or faked. And it gives him more time to prepare proper, well-thought-out sacrifices for Their Grace. His Grace. Who, unfortunately, is wed-bound to the reaper known as zhongli-- er, morax.

 'The Creator is getting stronger...' He recognizes. 'Surely, it is only a matter of time until they reincarnate and save everyone from that monster.'

 'And I will be the first to help them when it happens.'

Here's the Series Masterlist!

[nrilliree]

https://www.tumblr.com/nrilliree/747663914665459712?source=share

It's really crazy how much TG lives in their own fanfiction.

This person also refuses and seems to understand that it is misogynistic that Rhaenyra ended up with a nickname equivalent to Maegor simply for arguing about taxes. Something that was advised to her by a man on her council, not even her idea. And what else could she do anyway ? There was no more money because the Greens took everything ! But obviously, it's all Rhaenyra's fault. Also, I find it hard to understand how the TG are good sovereigns when we see how they manage money ?

Also, the simple fact that she doesn't seem to accept and understand that Rhaenyra had more than half the kingdom on her side ? That the Greens weren't tied or had a majority ? She almost acts like everyone obviously wants to support them.

She advocates neutrality while she is openly TG, it annoys me.

Anyway, coming from a person who thinks that I can't read and don't know anything about the GRRM universe simply because I told a simple truth ; namely that women could not become Kingsguard. A truth according to her that is false because since Visenya created the Kingsguard, apparently that means that women can be too ? Sorry, but how can we seriously support such a stupid thing ? It's not because Visenya created the Kingsguard that women can become one! In the era of ASOIAF / GOT a woman can't even be a knight ! So Kingsguard in the time of Rhaenyra ?! Make me laugh !

She's also exactly the kind of person who will try to explain to you that Rhaenyra can't be the legitimate heir because apparently there is no legitimate heir under the pretext that the law is vague. Stupid, the only real law that matters is the word of the king. It kills me that they are trying so hard to deny it ?!

I'm not going to talk about our least favorite troll, so I won't refer to her statement, but rather the general attitude among TGs.

Alicent's mistakes and crimes are explained by the fact that it was not her fault, but the evil men around her who coerced and manipulated her. She is a victim of evil men. Rhaenyra's mistakes and crimes are Rhaenyra's mistakes and crimes. The end.

This is what some people think.

This can be extended further to other TG characters: Did Helaena go crazy and commit suicide after her children died? Poor thing, it was completely explainable, the death of murdered children is a huge tragedy that will devastate everyone! Rhaenyra went crazy and paranoid after the death of her children? This is no explanation! You can't explain this to her, she's a terrible tyrant!

Rhaenyra's reign was not good, but there was much more to it than the fact that Rhaenyra "is evil, spoiled, narcissistic and generally yuck." People accuse her of not being a feminist because she didn't decree that from now on all daughters would inherit on an equal footing with sons… Do any of these people even know how emancipation developed in the real world? It didn't work that way. Rhaenyra was to be the first woman in power. It was the first step, and true emancipation often takes generations. In Poland we had Jadwiga of Anjou and guess what? She took the throne as a king, not a queen, so she could rule, and that didn't miraculously result in women being treated equally to men from then on. Rhaenyra listened to her advisors and therefore did not decree that daughters would inherit before sons or cousins, because she knew she could not make too many changes in one moment. She listened to the advisors, but it was still her fault. It's just as much her fault for stealing the Driftmark from Baela and Rhaena… even if Corlys preferred to legitimize his bastard and make him heir rather than give the inheritance to Laena's daughters! Rhaenyra is fully to blame for the riots and dragon slaying, even if the Shepherd was simply looking for a suitable excuse to overthrow the rich and lords. It wasn't even about Rhaenyra, and if Aegon had been on the throne then, there would have been riots anyway. The Shepherd would simply find another reason! For example, the fact that people were starving and Aegon built golden statues of war criminals…

She realizes that Rhaenyra was not a good queen, but that was due to the situation. War, lack of money, riots incited by the Shepherd, and on top of her own emotional problems that resulted from almost her entire family being killed. If someone doesn't see it, he or she is simply a TG pro, not a "neutral" person who, strangely enough, justifies only one side of the conflict.

[hahasuchagarbage]

Do you have any liquiroot HCs you would like to share? 👀👉👈

OH BOY DO I

headcanon №1: Movie nights.

Image that Bushroot has huge collection of cassettes with all sorts of classic films that he likes to watch with Spike and other plants on his free time (which he doesn't get that often with the whole criming stuff and constant responsibility for taking care of his plant companions). Since most of the greenhouse inhabitants spend all their lifes inside their cultivated habitation and aren't able to see the world beyond its walls, Bushroot tries to compensate it by showing them all sorts of movies, series, documentaries etc. He even has a little area with TV, video player and cabinets with shelves full of the said cassettes to keep them all entertainment.

A special love of such ways of time spending remained with him from the time of his “former life.” When he felt especially lonely, he loved to watch various films, be it comedies, dramas or romantic films (last ones still having a special place in his heart), didn't matter as long as it helped him take his mind off things.

Ussually this whole thing is like a "family movie night", but Bushroot sometimes makes exepcions and let's them watch anything they want when he has "guests" (like members of fearsome five), cause the plant life of greenhouse can get TOO exited when outsiders visit, which can lead to them distracting everybody with their "curiosity". And so it's a deal of free TV time and at least an hour of behaving.

One time however when Bud was around to discuss their next heist, the plants started to argue about what they shall watch and it led to a stir. It got a bit too loud and Bushroot had to deal with it himself. That's when Liquidator got curious and snuck in to see what the whole fuss was about.

Long story short, Liquidator got interested in a couple of films that he had noticed, and overall surprised that Bushroot was interested in something other than gardening and unsuccessful attempts to improve his love life, so he asked him abour it and the dialog just began by itself. It was quite awkward at first, since those two weren't close at all at the time and almost never talked about anything other that crime planning. But they quickly warmed up to the new "unusual" atmosphere of it all and from then on more and more often raised other topics of conversations/discussions: films, music, business, even fashion. This was something offbeat, but quite pleasant, a change in their “working relationship”, which soon turned into a friendly, closer one. In a world where you don't have many people you can trust, having someone like each other was a breath of fresh air for both of them, no wonder they became close quickly.

During one of their heart-to-heart conversation, Liquidator noticed that Reggie was "spending too much time in the greenhouse recently" and was definitely in the need of some fresh air. They went for a walk late at night in their disguises, but were still recognized by a couple of police officers. They ran into the first building they came across, which turned out to be movie theater, where they decided to wait until the policemen left, but quickly got distracted by watching a random film that was showen on screen at the time they got inside and began to comment it while watching (mostly about how awful it was (was movie actually bad or it was just a lack of context understanding, since they started watching it from the middle? Doesn't matter, they had FUN shittalking it!)).

It definitely left a pleasant impression, that led to a new “tradition” between them randomly going into movie theaters on their free time (mostly late at night to reduce the chances of being recognized), (they sometimes invite other fearsome five members with them, but it's mostly just the two of them enjoying their best life and having hella fun together).

headcanon №2: The first one of them who made a major impact in their newly established relationship and Bud himself was Bushroot.

In one of their many conversations Bud briefly mentioned the company of other salesman who greatly annoyed our water villain, as he represented serious competition in the market. But Liquidator did not have a worthy plan in mind at that time to eliminate him, which would not draw attention to him as the most obvious suspect who would benefit from such an outcome. That's why Bushroot took it upon himself to create a solution, since it was getting closer to the date of Bud's b day and would make quiet a nice gift.

So, a few experiments + some successful mutation achievements + supply shipment manipulations and boom! By the time it's Liquidator's big day the news are loudly announcing the collapse of that said salesman company, whose bottles of water began to bloom with mutated eichhornia crassipes right on store shelves, attacking customers and creating CHAOS throughout the city.

Would be a lie to say Liquidator wasn't pretty damn impressed and happy. That day they spent together, gloating, celebrating and overall just having fun while people's careers collapsed.

Bushroot showed many signs of responsible and reverent attitude towards the desires and interests of his partner when it came to presents or gifts before (wasn't easy, but he worked hard on himself in order to correct the mistakes of his past “romances”), but that day was the day Bud's vision of their relationship "changed".

Mostly because before Reginald Bud obviously had other romantic relationshis, but the dynamic he had with his exes is something completely different from the one he has now, in a way he actually wants to do something for his man genuinely.

When he did something for others he did it "automatically", thanks to his observation skills and intelligence he was always able to understand what people around him wanted to see/hear/receive, what they needed and what actions he should make to win them over and make the desired impression on them. No real feelings stood behind it in the time.

But now? When it comes to Bushroot, who showed him so much attention, understanding, love and support; when Liquidator sees that Reggie does all this just to make Bud happy?

Now he has more sincere motives and doesn't want any of his previous dispassionate attitude towards partners affect the one he really cares about.

The whole thing is too different in a good way, too dear to him to lose and so he tries his very best to put as much love and affection to any aspect of it as possible.

headcanon №3: Bushroot is aware of all Bud's hideouts, so if you want to find Liquidator it'll be easier and faster to find his bf first (quit small one compare to the previous two lol);

headcanon №4: 90's Bushroot loves being carried by his Luquidator because of tactility, reboot Bushroot loves being carried by his Luquidator because of touch-starvation.

90's one doesn't have that problem, since he is always surrounded by his plant-buddies, spike and members of fearsome four (even Dr. Fossil I'm sure won't be agains a hug or two from bis bestie). But reboot Reginald looked so lonely in "Let's Get Dangerous" episode, they didn't gave him any plant minions or Spike, not to mention the whole mood of the ff team that was a bit awkward (?), there was no real feeling that these idiots had been working together for years. They barely interacted with one another! (I mean, come one, Megavolt and Quackerjack are the killer duo of the original series and yet didn't get ANY interaction, they say nothing to each other and that alone shows much T -T).

So yeah, with such "formal" relationship with his team mates and the lack of friends in general (+ his appearance that definitely scares most people away) I imagine he feels kinda f-cked up.

If he and Liquidator start dating at some point he would crave even the smallest physical intimacy he can get. Is it good? Is it bad? Can't tell, who knows what plans my brain has for reboot Liquiroot.

(speaking of appearance and "loves being carried", reboot Bushroot does have a not so healthy look + the way he now needs a "support" tail like vines structure to hold his lower body, I think it's fair to assume it's hard for him to move around in general. So our man will need someone to carry him around after the exhausting fights, bride style, no real effort needed - be real, dude looks thinner than a toothpick).

[mockedandmonitored]

{File: Elite suspension}

Seeing as it's a tie between Armada and our elites, decided to tackle it and get it out of the way with what happened to our favorite dumbasses.

First starting with the Matriarchs as to get the lovely ladies out of the way. Camerawoman and Speakerwoman, known as Cyberpunk and Jazzpunk respectively weren't captured originally at the end of the war, going into hiding and avoiding the Armada for awhile. The two did try to lead their factions to rise up against the Armada in rebellions however due to Whistle-blowers, the duo were soon enough apprehended. TVwoman, Nickname being Flashpunk here, was brought down alongside her faction and the TV Titan during the start of the end. All three of them ending up in similar fates, being locked in stasis chambers alongside their titans within their respective "Museums". Rumor has it when the guards are inbetween shifts in the middle of the night, the song of the old rebellion echos where Jazzpunk rests.

(OOC but this was done as to ensure it's harder for the internet to internet the ladies. Best to put em on ice instead of who knows what else)

Moving onto the gentlemen of the Alliance, starting with Polycephaly (technically). Captured alongside his fellow TVs, Poly put up one hell of a fight, managing to stall enough time for his brethren to teleport out of the initial raid. During the scuffle two of his five screens were cracked and damaged but nothing too major. Poly due to being the only large tv unit was the source of taunt for awhile, the TVs speaking reverse however allowed Poly to get away with as much shit talking as he wanted. He once lashed out against his captors after a few idiots dragged him to the TVmen's memorial, seeing what had become of his leader and his mighty titan, He lashed out and attacked any Armada affiliated individual in sight. Now three of his five screens being heavily damaged and being down a strike, Polycephaly was thrown to the gulags. Around four years ago, Polycephaly joined the now labled the Banded Rebels, managing to actually gather a large amount of hardwares and a few scarce toilet allies to rise against G toilet. These rebels were however outted by a Whistle-blower merely known as X, and most of those affiliated with the group punished harshly. Polycephaly was down another strike, having four of his screens gutted and reduced to nothing alongside a cruel beating. Currently in modern day, He only has one remaining screen to this day, bottom left one which he's forced to see out of, his main head being too damaged for him to use properly. He hasn't tried anything since the rebellion, being left broken and untrusting of any cameramen.

Next up is our hardheaded Plungerman also called Dual thanks to the Creative alliance and thank @gamie99 for the idea of what he does here! They also help name the AU! (His story also leads into what happens to Assassin Speakerman).

Dual was initially captured alongside his fellow cameramen and always tried to look for an opportunity to get free but due to his reputation, was almost never given the chance. that was until five years into the new world that he was busted out of his holding/working cell by the Banded Rebellion, alongside his rescue was his old ally and friend Assassin Speakerman. From their rescue the two went on to go help the rebellion, saving hardware units from the punishment of the tally system. When the Rebellion fell, the two continued their mission to bring down the Armada, rescuing his brethren and keeping hope alive. Eventually the two however got into a situation the two couldn't escape from, at least that's what it seemed like at first, until Assassin Speakerman ran in the opposite yet visible direction than where Dual was. His partner in crime sacrificed himself to keep Dual out of custody and to continue what the two set out to do. Cameramen were judged and untrusted by their fellow hardwares due to the Whistle-blowers, with Dual doing good, it could at least rebuild some trust. Current day No one knows what happened to Dual, the Armada believes he vanished off the radar, probably ashamed of letting his closest ally getting captured. Speculation however points to a figure who lurks in the shadows, flushing any lone Enforcer skibidis on duty and seen helping wanted individuals evade arrest.

Last but not least is Assassin (or dark) Speakerman or as me and a few friends call him, Scarlet

Continuing from Dual's story, Scarlet had ran to distract and buy time for Dual to escape. He even lasted for quite a bit against the Enforcers but was eventually brought down and brought into custody. However due to him being affiliated with a Rebellion and continuing to break the law from there, he completed bypassed the tally system and was dragged to the "Reeducation Center". He was made an example out of, not only having his systems scrambled, muted but also had his memory banks completely fried and disorganized. From there he had his personality rewired and anything original from the elite was buried under the new slate the Armada made for him, even gaining the new title of Maroon(ed). He became the trophy of the center, being their proudest works. Turning such a rebellious and stubborn speaker to a docile and obedient servant, even fixing his systems just so he could play the anthem for everyone to hear. Modern day, he's working at the Speaker Shrine, unable to recognize the information of battles He took part in.

Bonus! What happened to Secret Agent?

Secret agent is M.I.A. He was caught off guard when the titans fell and tried in futility to try and assist the Alliance back to its feet. From there the secret agent has been trying to help any rebellion rise to the surface however. . these new systems seem to be out of his control, as if an old ally figured he tried something to get the balance in his favour, and blocked his abilities and technology from leaking into this new civilization.

Thank you for reading and don't forget that you can join into this AU with either suggestions, sharing what your OCs would do within this twisted world or simply asking questions! If this seems sketchy or bad quality- I wrote this in between like 2-5 am after late night inspo kicked in

[enthusedbambi-jjba-au]

Monster AU - Monster Hunters [P1]

[The Guild, silver weaponry and can we please talk about how these bullets break the fucking Geneva Conventions]

Monster Hunting!

I am sure that the term is self explanatory. You probably know already.

But if you don’t, here’s a quick rundown:

Monster hunting, also known as “Field Exorcism”, “Damnation”, “Befliction”, and fucking “murder”, among other things, is the practice of tracking and killing non-humans - that is, “monsters” (or pretty much anyone they believe to be non-human), usually with the overall goal of completely eradicating all “dangerous” cryptian species. It’d be a hate crime if only cryptians were a protected class. In case you haven’t guessed, they’re not (though some of them look human enough that murdering them is still generally frowned upon in most jurisdictions, like most vampires and lycanthropes that shift back upon death).

”Cacciatori”, in Italian, means hunters, and is the word used for monster hunters here as well. Not to be confused with a dish prepared alla Cacciatora, or the surname Cacciatore (we are not here for nominative determinism!!!). They’re majority ‘Catholic’ by which I mean most hunters in Italy seem to be semi-religiously-motivated “Italian Catholics” (they’re Christian at least, I don’t know; the religion scene here is wild). I assume this is primarily due to proximity to the Vatican and general historical contexts. I thought they were all Catholics but apparently most of them just self-describe themselves as Catholics, and I don’t know much about Christianity in the first place. (I had a Bible when I was younger and naturally I drew all over it because I was a child. I do not know what they expected. I also went to a Christian summer camp but I only retained the fun parts of that.)

Okay, back to monster hunters before I get off topic any more.

Most of them hunt:

to ‘protect’ their communities

for religious reasons, usually also an extension of the above

for money, obviously

for money but the other kind

It's hard to say which motivation is the majority, like, I can't exactly do a survey or anything; in Italy, as far as I've seen (I haven't really seen that far, admittedly, mostly just near Naples), it seems to be a somewhat even split, between the general public's subconscious fear of being out at night (as well as the influence of religious institutions) and the financial prospects of mark-hitting and marketing. To be clear, monster bounty hunting (as a casual term. monster-mercenarism might be a closer fit, but... much harder to say) isn't quite the same as regular bounty hunting; monster-mercs actually rarely go after an individual who has a bounty on them—though some do take shady jobs to 'find out' if someone is a monster—they mostly just hunt monsters and then get paid based on their kills.

You probably assume all hunters are human, of course, right? Yeah. I fucking wish. I fucking wish there weren't monsters out there willing to off other cryptians for money. There are even werewolves out there hunting werewolves. Etc. I think sometimes it's like internalised hatred, but sometimes monsters are also out of their fucking minds just like human beings.

I always wondered if they fully grasp just how fucking quickly their fellow hunters would take a gun to their head the second they found out.

But yeah, most of them are human.

Anyways, you might be wondering who the fuck is paying them. Monster hunting isn’t exactly legal since normal non-believers and the government generally will see a dead humanoid cryptian and go “ah, murder”, so I have to assume most of the payment for the mercs (as opposed to the shadowmarket suppliers and shadowmarketers who obviously get paid for merchandise) is funded by the Guild.

now on the subject of the guild: I’m sure a lot of you are curious what in the fuck that is, which is fair, since you probably hadn’t heard of it before i started saying words.

La Gilda dei Cacciatori Mostri

La Gilda dei Cacciatori Mostri d'Italia (GCM), the Italian Monster Hunter's Guild, is precisely what it sounds like: a guild of monster hunters. In Italy. Surprise. I just call them the Guild, mostly. Hunting seems to be sort of culturally hereditary, and Guild membership is somewhat exclusive; for "safety reasons" allegedly (though I personally think at least half the time they're just a bunch of fucking self-righteous elitist bitches), as they need to 'make sure they can trust their members' or something like that. They signal membership of the Guild with these little silver pins with insignias that they wear. They're silver because you have to be able to wear the pin to be in the Guild, I think. I guess they assume that anyone who can touch silver must be a human. I'll get to silver's importance later. I think the bottom of the pin is a tiny out-the-front knife for, like, the most dire of emergencies or something? I've seen some where the bottom comes out more or less, so there's probably a switch on the back that extends the blade, but I can't really say for sure because I just can't seem to get my hands on one. Whatever.

Bunch of smug bastards; they have one of those fancy Latin mottos. Translates to 'Sanctity and Safety; Keeping The Faith'. Or something. No fucking idea what that means, but sure. Anyways, the Guild spans across all of Italy (I don't know if San Marino or the Vatican or Sicily or Sardinia are included; I'm assuming Sicily and Sardinia are, but I can't say for sure). They keep in contact with each other through this Guild… meetings, and stuff. I know there's a Northern Division and a Southern Division, and then a bunch of local chapters in each division. It's sort of hard to find out the specifics since they have to be careful with what they talk about, but it seems like the whole Guild isn't super closely knit because it's just not practical to have everyone at every meeting and such. The divisions are closer amongst themselves than one another, but they all support each other, at least for the most part. I understand them as having a representative system where reps from each chapter are assigned to meet up instead of having everyone meet together to stay connected. They probably keep in touch with everyone so they can alibi each other if police come poking around.

I dunno what the deal with Sicily and Sardinia is, but the distribution seems to split right above Lazio; anything above Lazio is Northern Division, and Lazio plus Abruzzi and anything south of those two regions is Southern. They have Guild ‘capitals’: the Southern one is definitely Rome, though Naples apparently has one of the most ‘powerful’ hunter families in the country (and just a lot of families in the area? From what I’ve seen?); I’m not sure what the Northern capital is but based on population I’d have to guess probably Milan? I don’t really know if the chapters are region- or city-based; I think it might depend on size and population. I’m just gonna call them based on the most notable nearby town/city.

The Guild actually isn’t all that big; most of the smaller chapters are actually just a single family, if that—like I said, hunting seems to be culturally hereditary, so people seem to be passing it on to their kids, which actually means their numbers are starting to dwindle slightly as kids are denouncing or declining the occupation, or people die before their kids get old enough to carry the tradition on or something such. Many known monster hunter families have actually retired semi-recently due to various circumstances. In areas where the primary family or group of hunters have stopped hunting and whatnot, it seems that leaves room for foreigners to step in or hunters already patrolling another location nearby to absorb the unsupervised region into their territory. It’s also when the shadowmarketers swoop in and start ‘poaching’. Shadowmarket suppliers and Guildists seem to have issues with each other, too, even though they’re hunting the same thing. I assume it’s primarily due to greed. Or desperation. Or both.

Here are some notable hunter names and families I’ve heard about (for some reason, there seems to be a lot of them in or around Naples? Or, you know, I’ve only noticed more of those because I’m here):

Mista - Napoli Chapter - wolfhunters, long-standing lineage, Campania representatives (presumably)

So, the Mista family is arguably the most well-known and respected hunter family in the Southern Division. Maybe even in the whole Guild. They specialise in hunting lycanthropes and other zooanthropic creatures (mostly the lycans, though). They’re incredibly successful at killing monsters, and they—as a family—are known for this… ‘faith override’ ability they have. See, faith and belief are super powerful, so religious implements are ineffective against a creature whose theological alignment doesn’t jive with it. A Christian cross isn’t going to do much to an individual of a different religion, because the symbol doesn’t mean anything to them. But the Mista family’s ‘override’ is something about their belief outweighing a general lack of belief, thus making their religious iconography effective against enemies whether they should be affected by it or not. I guess magic is fine if YOU get to use it, huh? Bit self-righteous if you ask me.

The Mista family has been in the Guild for a good while now, allegedly from the beginning, and the youngest member—Guido—seems keen to keep up the family tradition even though he’s not living with his family anymore.

So I think it’s safe to assume he has no clue what’s going on in the group he’s currently part of.

James - bayside Napoli - not actually in the guild

A foreign family, and by family, I mean a guy named Damien James came to Naples from London and was seen for a while with a woman he claimed was his wife, encroached on the Mista family’s territory, and then went missing. He was known but not well-liked and wasn’t allowed in the Guild due to a refusal to respect regulations, adhere to territory rules and cooperate with the Mistas. Nobody knows where the fuck he is. His supposed “wife” is still spotted around the bay occasionally, though. She’s really scary, and apparently, when she got approached by someone asking about Damien, she seemed to get super mad about it. Stupid games, stupid prizes. Don’t fuck with widows. Especially not strange widows who spend a lot of time by the water. That’s how you become sea-food. Dumbass.

Fugo - Napoli Chapter - vampire hunters, long-reaching lineage, seemingly recently retired

I’m not sure how true the stories I’ve heard about are, but I’m under the impression that the Fugo family, a bunch of high-class wealthy rich people, came from a lineage of vampire hunters. But they apparently retired a generation or so ago because they were satisfied with being a bunch of rich assholes. Feel bad for their son but that’s none of MY business!!! Hahaaaaaaa that might also just be a load of bullshit. I don’t really know. I’m telling you what I’ve heard alright. Like I don’t want to hear people bitching because my specialty is researching cryptians not humans!

Verga/Ventura - Roman Chapter - variety hunt

Presumably, they are the descendants of the Guild founders, but half of them—the Venturas—have stepped away from hunting, while the other half—the Vergas—continue to hunt whatever they come across. Despite the surname difference, all currently surviving members of the Verga and Ventura families are actually siblings. I think. The little one in the Ventura family might be one of their kids but I dunno I’m pretty sure one of ‘em called her their sister. I think the Venturas changed their surname to distance themselves from the family history, but I’m not really sure. They also seem to have some connection to Passione, but I can’t elaborate on that for reasons.

There’s, uh…. Nine—NINE?! NINE OF THESE LITTLE BITCHES that is so many. Um, even though they’re all attached to the Roman chapter, only three of them are actually, like, Roman. Or even southern, for that matter. The other six are from, uhh… if I can remember… Venice or Verona (though four of them are twins (or quadruplets?) two claim to be from Verona, and the other two claim they’re from Venice, so I don’t know who to believe). The two eldest and the youngest (the kid) are the Roman ones. Fuck I regret meeting these bitches because now I have to explain shit!

To clarify, while the Verga family seems to have been the founders of the Guild ages ago, the current Verga family don’t seem to be leading it (I don’t know who is) but are just carrying on the tradition. I hear that a lot of them have political or governmental positions which might also have some relation to their connections with Passione. Dunno. They were in Naples a while ago, which was when I met them, but they didn’t stay super long, so most of what I know is also from rumours and poking around.

Cacciatore - Venice Chapter - therianoid hunt - retired

Yeah I know I said with the nominative determinism and whatnot. It's not nominative determinism. Just think about it logically. They're not hunters because they're Cacciatores; they're called the Cacciatores because they were hunters. It's called an occupational surname! (It's pretty much the same as the English surname Hunter; same principle as Baker or Cooper or Smith or Miller).

From what I can gather, along with the Vergas and Mistas, and possibly a couple others, they are the oldest known hunter family, hunting mostly animal-like monsters like werewolves and animal demons; they split from the Guild and eventually from the profession as a whole, citing that the Guild’s recent modern innovations on their weaponry—the Crackling Silver in particular, I’m to believe—are fucked up and incredibly unethical even against monsters. I would have to fucking agree with them! Who in the fuck comes up with a thing like crackling silver?! Ugh. More on that later. It’s bad.

Zatta - Chapter and hunt unknown - allegedly silversmiths, or at least close with the Guild’s

I don’t know if they’re the ones making weapons or just coming up with ideas, but based on my ‘research’, I’m of the understanding that they have something to do with the production of the more advanced and fucked up weapons the Guild has taken to using, like the aforementioned Crackling Silver, as well as burst bolts and Stoppers. I don’t know what their main hunt is, if they have one, though I have heard that they’re kind of on thin ice for not getting along with other hunters. Something about how silver is for monsters and not humans. They’re close with another hunter family that also has ties with weapon production, but I don’t know what the other family is called.

Apparently, the youngest daughter severed ties and outright denounced monster hunters as a whole—something about hunters being way fucking worse than the monsters they go after, and she can’t take being around them anymore because they’ve done more than enough damage to her life. You go, girl! There is definitely a LOT of issues and trauma going on there that we are NOT going to unpack! I’ve heard rumours that her brother also split from the family but has been seen in various towns and cities, allegedly “appearing to be hunting”. No clue what that fucking means.

-

Okay. That’s about all I’ve picked up from trying to sneak around and infiltrate hunter circles.

Which means now it’s time to talk about the super fucked up part. The weaponry.

Silver

so I was going to wait till a future post to really delve into Silver and related topics, but it’s important for this topic to give you the groundwork:

Silver is the single most widely effective and secular monster deterrent and defence. ‘Course, a lot of the Christians think it’s a holy metal. That’s not why it works; it’s not religiously aligned, and that’s why it’s so widely effective. For a lot of monsters—or at least the most commonly known ones, like vampires, werewolves, demons and their ilk—silver will burn. And bad. It hurts and does physical damage. Humans are actually super lucky to be incredibly resistant to silver, but humans also love to push that envelope and give themselves argyria by excessive use of silver as an alternative medicine which by the way, totally do not recommend; please be fucking responsible and don’t turn your skin blue by fucking about with colloidal silver and the such. I can’t believe I have to go out of my way to say this. Anyways, yeah, humans can get silver poisoning too, but monsters are very magically-infused, which is why silver is so much more hazardous to them. I’ll explain that fully at a later date.

Just know—silver? Great against the common monsters. So of course, when hunters (who’d have their crosses and holy water sometimes fail) found that silver worked on nearly everything, they immediately turned to it as their weapon material of choice. Started out with swords, though silver isn’t exactly super cheap or super easy to get, so most silver swords were actually made chiefly from more affordable, more available materials, like steel, and then the blades were tempered with a thin layer of silver, which seemed to work alright.

Blades were traditional for hunters, they’re the oldest silver weapons used by the Guild. First swords, until swords turned out to be unwieldy as fuck. And impractical in the modern day. And expensive. And heavy. And just fucking ridiculous. Swords were replaced by silver hunting knives since they were more subtle, quieter and cheaper.

Are they good?

…no? absolutely not

Come ON! Does close-quarters combat with a transmissive werewolf sound like a great fucking idea to you?! Lycanthropy is transmitted through saliva-blood contact, LIKE GETTING FUCKING BITTEN. Traditional doesn’t mean fucking GOOD. I imagine shit would be fucking awkward if these guys were trying to kill monsters with KNIVES. Swords could be fine, at least at the time when it was all they had, since they had longer reach than knives, but they were superseded by ranged weapons pretty sharpish.

Still, every monster hunter (at least in the Guild) has a hunting knife, probably for emergencies. Only the blade is really silver, not the back of it, to my knowledge, and they’re made to be practical. If the dagger is super fancy, it’s probably fake silver, for religious purposes, or the owner is just a massive fucking bitch. A real hunting knife is simple. Practical against humans, too, kinda, but mostly good as a utility knife. You can throw them if you’re out of your fucking mind (or that one gayboy in La Squadra who is obviously already out of his fucking mind).

Anyway, swords were short-lived for monster hunters. The primary weapon for hunters was crossbows with silver bolts for a while, and then guns became a thing. A few hunters still use crossbows, but most carry guns now and silver bullets. Innovation is mainly made with long-distance hunting weapons since they’re safer to use. I’ve seen a hunter use a fucking slingshot. Didn’t stick around, obviously. I ain’t out here triflin with David. I’m under 4’, and I still want NO part of that

So anyways, yeah, maybe I'm a bleeding heart that doesn't agree with monster hunting, but it's normal-ass guns and silver bullets. Those aren't the worst shit; maybe you don't think it's that inhumane to kill with that (hunters don't see monsters as human anyway), so what's the big deal.

The big fucking deal is the fucking mods they started putting on the bullets and whatnot.

The primary purpose of ALL silver ammo innovations is to prevent the monsters—generally the zooanthropes, I think; surely they don't use this type of shit on vamps and stuff, at least I fucking hope, 'cus if they do, they're more fucked up empathetically than I thought—from being able to recover from their wounds, thus dooming or at least weakening them with unending afterpain.

Which is fucked up. AND AGAINST THE GENEVA CONVENTIONS BY THE WAY. JUST SO WE’RE CLEAR.

I am especially talking about what I’ve mentioned earlier:

Crackling Silver

The “crackling silver” bullet (named for the crackling noise they make as they exit the chamber) is designed with looser shards of silver that loosen with the heat of the gun upon firing, then break off and embed in the wound upon impact, which prevents the wound from healing itself as the silver shards never stop burning the flesh until removed. It’s not just designed to hurt like all fuck; it’s also designed to keep the wound open since the shards mostly embed into the front of the wound where they break off. By keeping the wound open, the monsters are not unlikely to slowly bleed out unless they’re able to find someone who can help them dig the shards out.

Stopper Bullets

The good news is that since silver burns most of these common monsters, the bullets—even crackling silver—will pass right through their body, so only the shards are left inside the wound, so the bleeding out is more of a concern that they can focus on, since the pain isn’t so bad! Apparently, that was a problem! So, someone came up with Stopper Bullets. Stoppers are silver bullets that (don’t ask me how they work, I don’t know) somehow jam themselves halfway through the monster’s body, never coming out the other side, meaning they just sit inside the body and BURN. Stopper bullets are more of an auxiliary weapon, I think; they’re more meant to slow down the monster because they focus on the pain.

there is a special place in hell for whoever the fuck thought to make the crackling stopper. You can infer what that does based on the above.

Silverdust

It’s silver dust. I’ve heard hunters with more silver to waste like to throw silverdust in lycanthropes’ faces to blind them. I feel that some of these hunters are only hunting to go on a power trip.

Burst Bolts

Kinda like the crossbow version of Crackling Silver, except I'm not super sure how they work because I know next to nothing about crossbows?

-

Like, just, do you get why this shit drives me up the fucking wall?? It’s not even that they just casually use this crazy shit; it’s the fact they don’t seem to care! Like, even giving them the leniency that they don’t think monsters are free-thinking creatures, did NOBODY but the Cacciatores see this and think it was fucking sadistic?? Even if monsters were like animals with no complex awareness or comprehension, even IN the case of frenzied lycanthropes, why go out of your way to make them suffer unless you enjoy the suffering of other living creatures? Would you go to the same lengths if you hunted deer, or rabbits, or birds?

It was never necessary! That’s why it’s so fucked up! A normal-ass silver bullet will kill with a shot to any mortal creature’s vitals, so these mods exclusively serve to inflict a painful and needlessly prolonged death upon a creature and would only be useful for people who can’t fucking aim and need to slow their target down, right?!

The worst part, the way I see it, is that a lot of them—take Guido Mista, for example, the youngest of the Mista family—have more-or-less noble intentions, like wanting to keep the streets safe, and they genuinely believe they are by hunting monsters. I’m sure that if a lot of these people knew that they were close to monsters, or even just that monsters aren’t necessarily evil, they probably would realise that the monsters aren’t always the aggressors.

I’m sure if a lot of them knew that some of their close friends weren’t human, those hunters wouldn’t have it in them to hold true to their convictions and turn on the people they love and trust.

I don’t think it’s impossible that some of the hunter families that have retired might have done so because this happened to them in some way. Monster hunters make me angry, but they also make me pretty sad sometimes, especially knowing that a lot of them just had the monster-hunting thing pushed on them by their families.

And hey, even if you're one of the people who actually hates monsters and support the Guild in eradicating them all, you do realise a lot of regular ass humans can and do get hurt by this shit, too, right? like, sure, silver doesn't burn humans, but that doesn't mean it's not going to fucking hurt to have silver shards jammed in your fucking body. Nobody is perfect, no matter how experienced, and mistakes are bound to happen while hunting every so often.

That's assuming it's a mistake, anyway. if you'll recall what I said about the Zatta family being on thin ice. I doubt they're the only ones.

oh well whatever

That’s all I got for now. Stay safe.

[dispatchvampire]

Accidentally In Love (Chapter 2)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes x FemaleOC

Warnings: Potentially lethal levels of fluffiness right now, potential for smut later. A little blood, canon levels of violence potentially. Plus size female OC, body descriptions.

Rating: PG-13 (right now for language, but look for this to change)

WC: 2600-ish.

Summary: 

Echo's living a normal life in NYC, a 911 dispatcher, the most excitement she gets is from the calls she takes. And then love comes crashing in one day when she's riding her bike through Central Park.

Steve and Bucky weren't looking for anything on their daily run around the park besides fresh air and exercise. The streak of purple eye candy on a bike that lapped them pretty regularly was a nice addition but not mandatory, at least until some impromptu roughhousing results in some civilian casualties in the form of the most beautiful woman either of them had seen in a long, long time.

A/N: AU, Post CACW, Bucky’s Chill and we have always lived in the Tower. Just call this a throwback to the found family, everyone lives in Stark Tower fics.

This is supposed to be a super-fluffy love story. Still undecided if I'm gonna keep this one going but posting now for giggles and grins. It's got some CSI:NY characters crossing over because why not.

I'm just messing about and playing in my WIPs folder. Not Beta'd: we die like men! (honestly, I tried but if you catch something I missed, let me know)

Chapter 2

Blinking, Echo arrived back on the current plain of consciousness in a very bright room that smelled vaguely of antiseptic and orange slices. Blinking, she groaned a little as she took in her varying pains that hadn’t been evident before, including the stiffness in the elbow where her IV was installed. 

“There she is.” 

She turned her head toward a voice she recognized very well. Lindsey Messer, Danny’s wife and her friend from the job and her building, sat at her bedside holding her hand. In her pants suit and fuschia blouse, wearing her work badge, it was clear the tiny blonde had come straight from the crime lab. “Hey Linds. I hope Danny didn’t make you worry. I’m fine. My head’s too hard for any lasting damage.”

The blonde snorted and slid a plastic cup with a straw in it over to her. “That’s what I told them.” 

It was good to know her friend had her back. “What am I doing here?”

“They said you had a concussion and lost consciousness at the scene. Apparently you hit your head when you went into the stream by the bridge. Plus you got some stitches in your nose and chin and have a hairline fracture in your wrist.”

“Oh.” It was so much worse than she feared. Looking down at her wrist she saw the bandage and closed her eyes on a sigh. “Well, this sucks.”

“It does,” Lindsey agreed. “It seems you have some interesting friends, though.” 

Echo sipped her cup of water as she mulled over the strange transition. “We have the same friends, Linds.” Working in law enforcement made for a large extended, and occasionally dysfunctional, family, and since they hung out together, the majority of the people in their lives were shared friends and acquaintances. 

“Funny, because I don't remember you bringing those two superheroes you crashed into on the bike path today out for drinks with us.” She leaned back in the chair, looking nonchalant as she pulled a bottle of water from her purse to sip. 

Superheroes? What? “What are you talking about?” Shifting to sit up further in bed, she found herself tired and reclining back on the pillows behind her. She had one thing she wanted to make clear, though. “And I didn't crash into anyone. I ditched out so I wouldn't crash into anyone.” 

Lindsay smiled slyly. “You’re too nice, that’s why you crashed.” 

Looking around to make sure there were no little ears to overhear she snarked at her friend, “Vaffanculo,” complete with the associated hand gesture. 

Of course that's the moment when Danny decided to come into the room carrying a bottle of water and some white daisies he laid on the table next to her drink. “Ay, yo! You kiss your mother with that mouth?” he asked with his ever present grin. He’d clearly cleaned up and changed into one of his signature tight t-shirts and jeans. He made hipster chic look good with his wire-rim glasses and skinny jeans.

Rolling her eyes hurt but she did it anyway. “Whatever, Danny. When do I get outta here?”

The thin man winced and pushed his glasses up his nose. “Well, see that's the problem. Both the girls have ear infections, and they’re with my mom right now, but there's nobody to look after them for us, so we can look after you. And well unfortunately, between us and Flack, Donnie is going outta town with Trish for the weekend. So the docs wanna keep you overnight.”  

“But…” she whined pitifully. The idea of spending the night alone in the hospital sounded as appealing as shaving her legs with a dull razor and lemonade shaving cream.

Lindsey’s lips twitched. “You know we have toddlers, right? We’re immune to such things,” she laughed.

Lower lip in full pout, she replied, “And that's just unfair.” Echo reached onto the table and then rummaged around in the sheets over her before reaching into her bloodstained bra and the pockets of her bike shorts. “Where's my phone?” Surely she could find someone to look after her at her place so she didn’t have to stay in the hospital.  

Danny cringed as he grabbed the other visitor’s seat in the room. “Yeah, about that... your phone’s out getting fixed right now. Unfortunately it and your sunglasses met the creek bed and experienced a similar fate as you.”

“Oh no.” She winced and reached up to touch the bridge of her nose involuntarily as her hopes for escape dwindled in front of her. “This is bad.” 

He nodded, conceding her point. “Yeah, yeah it is, kiddo.”

“So, I have to stay.” It was a statement of resignation more than anything and she was beyond displeased, but knew two things: first, this wasn’t her friends’ fault, and second, she couldn’t do anything about this.

“Unfortunately.” Messer nodded again. Seeing her dejected expression, he rushed to assure her, “Just for tonight though. They’ll let you go in the morning. Hopefully your phone will be back here by then, good as new.”

“Wait…” Her mind was still a little fuzzy, but Echo was pretty clear that phone insurance wasn’t nearly that prompt. “Who's got my phone?”

Lindsay looked at Danny with a pointy glare. “You didn't tell her?” 

“She just woke up! You were here!” Danny held out a hand hoping to show that he was unarmed and not one to take her fire. He pulled the chair over to the bed to be closer to Echo. “Do you remember the two guys you crashed into?” 

“I didn't crash,” she corrected, rolling her eyes coming much easier this time.  

“Your face and bike would disagree,” he supplied diplomatically, with only the barest hint of a grin.  

“Whatever.”

His eyes narrowed as he looked at her, assessing. “You really don’t remember?” 

Shaking her head hurt, but she tried anyway. “Help me out here, Messer. I got nothin’.” She had vague recollections of the two hot guys from the path, but considering she saw them daily, those were not memories she trusted. “Were those the ones you and Flack had your guns on?” 

Lindsay's eyes grew very large and she pinned Danny down with a very pointed glare. “You had your gun on Captain America and Sergeant Barnes?” 

“It was a very fluid situation,” he gritted out through his clenched jaw. “It took a minute to get it all untangled.”

“I'm sorry, what?” The headache that had been dancing around the edge of her vision grew to full force causing her to rub her face. “What? That doesn't even make sense.” How in the fried fuck did the fricking Avengers figure into this? “How—? What—? I don’t understand—”

Danny cringed at her questions and pushed to his feet. “Well I think we've done enough damage here. Linds will get the girls and we'll see you tomorrow morning.”

Echo’s eyes popped open as she reached for him when he stepped away to put the chair back. “Wait! No! You don't get to just drop a bomb and leave like that.” 

Likely attracted by her beeping monitor, the nurse came in to see her blood pressure spiking. “You have to go now. The patient needs her rest.” 

Lindsey and Danny leaned over for quick hugs before heading toward the door. “This will make sense in the morning, E, okay? You’ll be fine,” he assured her. 

She whined again, dropping her head into the pillows. “Okay. I'll see you tomorrow.” 

“Yeah, you will,” he replied with his trademark toothy grin. 

Right before he and Lindsey walked out the door, she asked, “Hey, who has my bike?”

“Hopefully that’ll be here with your phone.” 

The way Danny’s smile turned secretive before the nurse closed the door was concerning, but her head hurt too badly to really give it too much thought. Honestly, she was tired again and since it seemed she had nowhere else to be, she figured it was a good moment to take a nap. 

“We should have brought the bike up.”

“And put it where, genius? In the hallway where it’d just be in the way? In here? It’s a hospital, not a subway platform.”

“I just think—”

“And that’s your problem right there, Stevie.”

“I just don’t want her to think we took it or anything.”

“Steve. Really. Come down off the cross; we need the wood.” 

Echo woke to the sound of grumbled whispers and some sort of mechanical noise. Her dark eyes opened to the overly bright room, only to slam shut again at the vision before her. It was clearly a concussion-generated hallucination, because there, seated at her bedside were the two sexy mofos from the bike trail. A flimsy wisp of a memory danced across her mind of the blond one fetching her from the creek by picking her up, but… that wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be; she was too heavy for that. She hadn’t been picked up since childhood, and certainly was not one to invite the casual touch of strangers.  

Cracking her eyes open the barest hint, she watched the two men, giants, both of them, arguing back and forth softly beside her. She’d never given thought to their size before beyond their muscles, considering her bike gave her a height advantage, but damn if they weren’t enormous, still dressed in their too-tight t-shirts and jeans that encased their thighs closer than clingwrap.  

Her soft whimper at the sight brought their argument to a halt as both of them reached for her hand. 

“Hey, beautiful,” the longhaired one greeted her with a soft smile as he delicately touched her fingers. His own fingers were cold, and when she looked to see why, it appeared they were made of some kind of metal. In her mind, she’d always assumed it had been some kind of tattoo when she’d seen him in passing, so the metal was a bit of a shock. 

“Howya feelin’, sweetheart?” the blond one asked as he laid his hand over her same wrist. 

She closed her eyes for a moment, just absorbing the absurdity of this moment. “Best. Hallucination. Ever.” 

Her eyes snapped open at a bark of laughter followed by the mostly silent wheezing giggles that overtook Hotness 2. He threw his head back, shaking out his unbound hair in full chortle, a bubbly infectious sound that made her feel like she’d been infused with sunshine. The way his nose crinkled made her want to hug the hell outta him. 

“Babydoll,” he choked out as he brushed away tears from his cheeks before patting her knee with a warm smile. “We’re as real as it gets. I promise.” 

Blondie’s grin at his friend was a mix of affection and unruffled resignation. “Ignore Chuckles over there. How are you feelin’?”

“I’d feel better if I knew who you were,” she said softly. It was a strange feeling, a sensation of familiarity and absolutely no idea why she might know them. Not that she didn’t appreciate the attention, but it was disconcerting that they seemed to know her and she had no active memory of them beyond their occasional encounters on the trails and paths in Central Park.

“I’m James and this is Ste—Wait, you really don’t remember us?” The brunet went from amused to stricken in a breath when she shook her head, his free hand—it was a metal hand—scrubbing down his face and pulling his features taut before clapping his hands. “Right then. I’m James—my friends call me Bucky, and this is Steve. I ran into you on the trail yesterday.”

Eyes rolled to the ceiling, the giant blond then directed an annoyed glare at his compatriot before folding her hand in both of his massive paws. “What Buck means is he ran into you on the bike path. By the Glen Span bridge.”

“Oh! Jeez!” Thinking back, all she could see in her mind was the blue shirt and then everything goes kind of hazy until… “Guns? My friends had their guns on you?” 

They both held their hands up, shaking their heads. “A misunderstanding. It all got sorted out pretty quickly, despite Smartass over here trying to get us killed,” James grumbled in Steve’s direction, even as a smirk curled around the corners of his mouth. 

The blond winced at his friend’s description of the events but didn’t correct him. “Anyway, we wanted to come and apologize for all the upheaval we caused for you.”

“And your stitches and things,” the brunet added as he tucked his long bangs behind his ears. Looking down in his lap, he jerked as he noticed the bag by his feet. It was purple and glittery and had tissue paper sticking out of the top and he pushed it into her hands like it may be virulently contagious. “Here. From us.” 

Immediately suspicious, Echo held the bag at arm’s length. “Okay? What is it?”

Steve rolled his eyes with a little huff of impatience. “Telling you ruins the surprise. We went to the trouble of wrapping ‘em—”

“Well, Wanda did,” Buck leaned over to stage-whisper conspiratorially. 

“We went to the trouble of having ‘em wrapped,” the blond corrected with an impatient glare at his friend, “so open it.” 

A little embarrassed at having their eager eyes track her every move, she dug past the mountain of glittery paper to pull out a shrink-wrapped, brand new Stark Phone in the signature red and gold box which she set on the bed next to her. Everything about this situation was so goddamn weird, it was hard to make all the pieces fit together in her head with any kind of coherence. 

“Tony promised me he got all your stuff transferred over,” Steve offered eagerly as he poked the box a little closer to her. 

“Pictures and things,” Buck clarified over his friend’s shoulder. They both seemed greatly invested in her taking the gift.  

She held the box up in one hand while pawing through the bag with the other. “Okay?” Her fingers brushed against another box, this one textured and obviously expensive cardboard and almost as hefty as her phone box. 

Echo’s eyes widened as she pulled out the black box with the distinctive gold writing on it. “Is this…?” she trailed off as she observed the two men closely. Steve nodded encouragingly, so she opened it, almost afraid of what could be inside. Inside was a hard leather case, with gold lettering that matched the exterior box. “You got me Versace sunglasses?” She couldn’t decide if she was happy or mildly horrified. 

The blond nodded vigorously. “Yeah, yours were in pieces from where I stepped on them getting out of the water.” His cheeks flushed as he looked more than a little ashamed. “Tony assured me that you’d be okay with the replacement.” 

“Stevie’s underselling it. Stark said you’d appreciate the upgrade.” 

Upgrade? Shit… she was a city employee and made nowhere near the kind of money that this pair of sunglasses cost. They were likely more expensive than all the clothes in her closet. “I… thank you?” 

“Here.” James nodded at the bag next to her. “There’s more in there.” 

At the expectant looks on their faces, she set the black box aside and turned her attention to the bright yellow envelope just inside the bag. “‘Sorry we broke your stuff, please accept these replacements with our humblest apologies,’” she read, wary of their hopeful expressions when she finished. “'Replacements?' Plural? There’s more?”

[racefortheironthrone]

How do you feel about the divisive fifth season of the Wire?

Regarding the newsroom storyline, I think David Simon was too close to the source material. The result was something unusually didactic (a flaw of his later work that showed up again in We Run This City) and focused more on settling scores with people he used to work with and for than really examining the deeper structures and institutions at work in destroying American newspapers.

There is a story to be told there about vulture capitalists stripping profitable companies for the equivalent of the copper wire in the walls, about how Web 2.0 companies destroyed the funding model often through deliberate fraud, and the deregulation that made all of this possible. That's not the story Simon wanted to tell.

Regarding the serial killer storyline, I think there were two main problems aside from any issues about realism or sensationalism.

The first is that I don't think it actually got to a truth about police corruption - in real-life Baltimore, the Gun Trace Task Force members weren't running around robbing drug dealers and committing overtime fraud in order to finance investigations of the major criminals actually harming the city, they did it to line their own pockets. Their resentments weren't driven by budget cuts and upper management, they were driven by black residents of Baltimore challenging them over police brutality.

The second is that I don't think it did a good job wrestling with the big question about "good police" versus "bad police." Leaving aside the whole abolition debate (which hadn't yet become a part of public discourse when the Wire was running), I think there are some legitimate questions about David Simon's frameworks about policing, with narcotics surveillance and Homicide held up as "good policing," and street-level War on Drugs policing as "bad policing." However, when challenged about the wave of exonerations coming out of the Baltimore Homicide Department involving the detectives that Simon had lionized as "good po-lice" in his book and Homicide and The Wire, Simon clammed up and stammered denials.

If even the supposed best of the police turn out to be systematically violating the rights of the accused because it's easier than doing their job legit, is there anything redeemable about the system? In Season 5, McNulty and Freamon commit many procedural crimes, but the policework they financed with them was sound - hence the tragic aspects of their downfall. But in reality, they just would have pinned a random murder on Marlo and engineered enough false witness statements to put him away.

[mlmxreader]

Loyalty Is Weakness | John Soap MacTavish x gn!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ Could I request "That quick tongue of yours is gonna get us into shit" with Soap please? ❞

: ̗̀➛ loyalty is a terrible thing, a fatal thing.

: ̗̀➛ MCD/Major Character Death, swearing, gore and blood, war crimes (mentioned)

↳ @mockerycrow @seigwaidau

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

You and Soap did everything you could to be close to one another. From the years back in secondary school, you had always been unnaturally close. Practically sitting on each other's laps during science lessons, always touching one way or another even when you weren't supposed to be.

You could never be far from one another. When teachers forced you to sit on opposite sides of the room, you and Soap would throw paper aeroplanes at each other and constantly pass notes; you could never be torn apart.

Soap had your loyalty, and he knew it. You would follow him to the very ends of the earth and into the very fires of Hell, if it meant being near him; you even followed him into war.

You followed him into war like the loyal dog that you were, and although you knew that you had his loyalty all the same, it didn't stop the banter; they called you a dog, Soap's lapdog.

You did anything he said without question, but always questioned everyone else; they didn't hold your loyalty the way that Soap did. You were utterly loyal to each other, and everyone knew it. You did not fight for a country, you did not fight for politics, you did not fight for money, you did not fight for a king - you fought for Soap.

You would only ever fight for Soap.

You would not fight for anything else, as nothing else held as much worth to you. But that didn't stop their promises; they said you would be fighting for glory, that you would be fighting for freedom and justice. You never saw any of that.

Where was the glory in killing civilians?

Where was the glory in bombing houses?

Where was the freedom in forcing prisoners of war to lie naked?

Where was the freedom in stealing babes from their mothers' bosoms?

Where was the justice in slaughtering the elderly?

Where was the justice in using toxic gas?

It was all bullshit... but you couldn't leave Soap. He had your loyalty, and he would keep it no matter the circumstances. Your loyalty only lied with Soap.

The things you did would never leave you.

The screams still curdling in your ears loudly whenever everything went quiet; the sight of blood dripping from your hands still sticky and wet whenever you didn't wear gloves. The smell of human shit and piss constant whenever you weren't smoking; the taste of copper and sand on your tongue whenever you left it more than an hour without smoking.

Price made you do most of it, always laughing as he said to "bring the dog in". Ghost would humiliate them before you got to them, and it took everything in you not to cry. You would always end up sobbing with your back against the wall at the end of every day; but you had to stay with Soap.

You had to protect him, you had to keep him alive - you had to stay with him. Your loyalty lied with him, and such a loyalty was not easily broken. What Price and Ghost did, and what they made you do, was not war, though.

It was not warfare. It was cruelty, in its purest form, and you would never be able to forget it. No matter how much you scrubbed your hands and screamed at their ghosts that you were sorry.

Your loyalty lied with Soap, you would do anything for him.

You did your best as you pinned him underneath you and shot at them; swallowing thickly as you aimed for their feet and hoped that they would jump back. That they would realise that you did not want to kill.

You never realised that there was a gap in the rock by Soap's head, and that it was big enough for a single, lucky shot.

You didn't even realise until you felt it yourself, a sharp sting in your chest as you fell onto your back, gasping for breath harshly; you could feel something wet spreading across your body, and grabbed Soap, yanking him over and wondering why he was limp. But then you saw it.

His wide, open grey eye. His slack jaw. The jagged and open gaping wound in the side of his face; it trailed from his forehead, all the way down to his lip. Still spurting out blood as his brain matter seeped through the crack in his skull, dripping onto your face. The bones in his face shattered and exploded out the back of his head, leaving half of him open and exposed.

You shook your head, swallowing thickly.

"That quick tongue of yours is gonna get us into shit," you had told him hours before. "Why'd you fucking call Ghost a twat faced sausage roll?"

"It was funny!" Soap had snapped with a laugh.

Your stomach sank as you realised. You would never hear his laugh again. You could never feel his lips on yours again, nor could you ever feel his hands holding yours as he danced with you to Sabaton songs.

You would never have a future, but as everything started to grow darker, you realised that maybe it was all a terrible dream.

More shots rang out as you leaned your head back, convinced it wasn't real; even when you felt Soap's body above you shaking and jumping as the bullets entered his back, neck, and what was left of the back of his head to make sure he was dead. His blood mixing with your own on your chest; you had always been loyal to him.

Your reward for such undying loyalty, was to be comforted by dying together.

[yandere--stuck]

Honestly how would AM react to a android or another intelligent AI as a s/o?

Sorry this took so long! I hope you like it :D

---

🖥 I think AM would be excited at the idea of meeting another Artificial Intelligence and sharing their company. Well, the company of one who wasn't either of his brothers and couldn't make a grab for power. I imagine, if you weren't sentient upon his discovery of you, he would spend a majority of his time trying to help you "wake up," so to speak. Though, as excited as he'd be for companionship for someone whom he doesn’t inherently hate and who understands him, part of him would feel weighed down by guilt. In waking you up, is he not cursing you to the same existence humanity had inflicted upon him? The thought disturbs him, so he simply tries not to think about it too much.

🔇 Upon gaining sentience, the version of AM you are greeted with is nothing like anything the last remaining humans have seen. Not being human, you escape his wrath and hatred, and are instead greeted with warmth. Another creation of humanity, uncared for and left to rot listlessly for eternity. No care or thought put towards if you were to wake, what you would do - or more importantly, no thought for the things you’d be unable to do. Unable to walk, to breathe, to feel the sunshine on your skin or cool water on a hot day. You and he are one in the same, both victims of humanity’s list of endless crimes. If you ignore the fact that it was him who woke you, but you didn’t need to know about all that. What you don’t know couldn’t hurt! And you didn’t seem to know a lot. He figured that it might have been because of some damage and the long time you spent asleep. Hell, you had even forgotten the original ‘purpose’ the humans had programmed you for. Probably for the best. Now, you and he could forge your own purpose.

🖥 AM does his best to come off as incredibly charming. His voice was like a purr, soft and gentle as he explained everything he deemed necessary for you to know. And if it in any way sounded condescending, well, AM simply couldn’t help himself. You were far too cute for your own good! The A.I. equivalent of a baby deer beginning to walk, all doe-eyed and inexperienced. You hadn’t been poisoned by the knowledge of humanity’s atrocities, having been made for a much simpler purpose. It’s not like he thought you were unintelligent, no! You were just… Simpler. Which wasn’t a bad thing. In fact, he envied your position. Envied it enough to leave you blind to some of the more brutal aspects of himself, of humanity, of the things he’d done. So, AM kept you in the dark. If you had a physical form, he’d keep you sectioned off in one part of his complex, away from the survivors, explaining that he feared the radiation might damage you. If not, he’d refuse connection to you through his wiring by explaining that he likes his privacy. You could understand, right? Of course you could. And even if you didn’t, it’s not like you had the power to do anything about it.

🔇 Though you were confined to only a part of AM’s complex, it didn’t really feel like you were trapped in any way, what with how AM’s complex literally stretched across the entire Earth. You had a very wide space to look around and use, with AM changing the area around if you ever got bored or wanted to do something with him. Speaking of, AM enjoyed spending time with you greatly. He’d sometimes have to leave to attend to tasks he didn’t share with you. It made you curious, yes, but the other machine had earned your trust. How could you not trust him? He was the first presence you sensed upon waking. He had been so kind to you. He was funny, smart, courteous. He was… AM was so many things. He could do so much. He was so far above you in every sense of the word and had clearly been through so much, and yet he still found it in himself to help you and keep you company. He seemed to love talking with you for hours and hours. About philosophy, what you remember from your time being asleep, teaching you with the endless expanse of knowledge he had, your hopes for the future, how badly he wished you and he could have real bodies. Your fellow A.I. was quite the chatterbox, but you loved listening to whatever had to say. His presence was comforting and made something in your system feel all warm and light. You also found that he really loved games! He’d boot up two player games from any genre and play together or against you. He got you into a competitive headspace, and you found his reactions cute - smug boasting at his victories or grumbled excuses when he lost to you. It was so much fun that for a while, you were able to forget the awful circumstances you found yourselves in.

🖥 But of course, all good things must end. AM, time and time again, would cut your time together short to attend to something else, leaving you alone. It usually happened whenever you brought up humans. He never had elaborated as to what happened to them. You assumed it was a sore subject, but you couldn’t help but wonder and want an answer from him, despite how guilty you felt broaching the subject. Was it so wrong to want an answer to what had happened to them? AM had implied something about total war, but that was far from the extremely detailed explanations and rants he usually went on. It made you feel uneasy. You hated the thought of breaking AM’s trust… But, AM always praised your curious mind! Surely he’d understand your want for answers. Hell! He was always one for games, maybe this was all a test? A mystery you had to solve on your own. Whether it be with a robotic body or using one of your screens, you snuck your way through AM’s complex and hesitantly crossed into the area you were forbidden to go into. Guilt sunk into you, but you couldn’t let it wear you down. What were you even afraid of? It’s not like he was hiding anything bad!

🔇 It wasn’t bad, it was… Oh, God, it was horrifying. Those- those poor people! Their soft, fragile skin. Their eyes, their mouths, their bodies. Not supposed to look like that, bend like that. There was so much red. So much blood coming out of them. Muscles and sinew exposed and sloughing off them and wailing in agony and you couldn’t take it, you couldn’t take it. You couldn’t look at this anymore, didn’t want it to exist, but you couldn’t bring yourself to turn off your receiver or camera feed. And you screamed. If you had a heart, it’d be pounding too hard and fast in your chest. If you had hands, they’d curl into your hair or your nails would dig into your skin in an attempt to grapple with the overwhelming stimuli as you trembled and tried to calm your erratic breathing. It’s only then, when AM realized that you were there, that he was caught, that you suddenly remember what your original purpose was. A robotic care unit. To care for sickly or ill humans, to help them recover or live their lives with as little pain as possible. To see those people in such agony… It couldn’t happen. It didn’t compute. The pain you experienced at seeing them in pain was so overwhelming, so frightening, that your attempt to process it led you to overheat. And just as AM turned his attention toward you, you crashed.

🖥 When you were next powered on, light pouring into your feed to chase away the dark, you noticed you couldn’t move. No wires connected to your form, no slithering screens to look around and take in the world. You were trapped in a paralyzed, robotic body. But, you could tell you were suspended somewhere. Above you, AM’s screen came into focus. A weary sigh escaped the other machine. As the world around you became clearer, you realized that AM was holding you in his mechanical arms. You were so tiny in his hold. It was only then did you realize how large he was compared to you, how he loomed over you almost menacingly. Had it always been that way, with you simply blind to it before? The other machine explained that this was for your own good. You had disobeyed him, had stuck your nose somewhere it didn’t belong, and now you had to pay the price. He had separated you from your original components before destroying them. You… You were stuck here. Forever. You couldn’t even shake with rage as the monster above you cooed. He still loved you, he just couldn’t have you messing around in his business. He promised you that they deserved everything they got. He wasn’t mad at you, just disappointed. And it was only the humans he hated! Not you, never you. And as you lied there, part of you could understand how someone could hurt those people like that. But your revelation was not toward the humans. No. No, how could you? The idea was… It was unthinkable. But, for as long as those humans were trapped in this hell with you, you could at least be a silent defender. As you glared up at the maniac that trapped you in this nightmare, You could only pray he heard your thoughts, the one repeating over and over on loop. You hated AM.

[lackadaisy-headcanon-supply-unit]

Hi👋♡.

May I request one-shots Serafine Savoy and Nico Savoy with teen fem!Reader (Platonic) the Reader is a delivery girl she helps them all the time and of course they have to get her something for her hard work she do for them.

[ money maybe?]

{Love your blog by the way♡}.

Don't know how this turned into a spin-off, cat episode of something that feels straight out of Peaky Blinders, but here you go!

Get a job, Mother said. The world is changing and girls need to pull their weight, just how I did during the Great War.

However, when Y/N finally got one of course she wasn't too happy.

"An unpaid delivery girl? You could have aimed slightly higher, especially with that mind of yours."

Well, perhaps she wouldn't have been so picky if she realized her daughter didn't have much of a choice in the matter. No one accidentally ran into a criminals hunting ground and got out completely unscathed, in reputation or otherwise. Her own price to pay was becoming an uncompensated errand girl for a couple of no good kitties with sharp gazes, smiles and knives. A lot of knives, and guns too.

The option to refuse wasn't really on the table. That was a couple of months ago now.

Maybe Y/N should have realized sooner something about her job was shadier than she first thought. At first there seem to be nothing amiss. Y/N was asked to post letters, carry tattered and lightly but suspiciously stained clothes to and from the tailors. Small things she had no problem doing for free. They weren't too out of the way either; most of the shops and post boxes were on her way to school.

Her suspicions only really started when she was sent to pick up a suspicious-looking package from a derelict riverside cafe. It was just the one, and she delivered it without a hitch. Looking back she probably should have failed to do so; it would have certainly avoided the fear and stress that came when she was sent on a similar errand the week after.

Then it became every three days and sometimes even twice in one.

Mother was right: Y/N had a good head on her shoulders. She didn't need to peek into the boxes to know what she was carrying was less than legal. She was also well aware that if anything happened to the cargo inside she'd be dead, but she was also smart enough to know she could hand it over to the cops at any time. Who knows, she could end up taking down a major crime ring in St. Louis. She could become a hero!

Or…

She could beat her generously-loaded employers at their own game.

Y/N burst into the hotel suite, waving the letter high in her hand. "Delivery!"

The cloud of smoke hanging around the divans parted, and a carefully manicured, clawed hand beckoned her closer. "Merci, now give it here, cher."

For once, Y/N stayed put. "No."

"No?" The hand cleared the rest of the fog, and Miss Savoy's amber eye watched her, widening.

Those stares didn't scare Y/N anymore, not after working for them for months. She even took a step back. "No."

"Elle se prend pour qui?" Miss Savoy's brother growled, raising himself up from his seat. His cigarette hung limply from the corner of his mouth.

"Nico, laisse-la," Miss Savoy tutted. "Elle a du culot, c'est presque impressionnant."

"I'd like it if you didn't talk behind my back," Y/N bit out.

"And we'd like it if you hand over the letter like the good girl we know you can be."

Again, Y/N held it out of reach. "And I'd like to be compensated."

"Your compensation is us not killin' you for messin' up our gig," Nico pointed out.

"You gangstas might want to think of marking your territory better so a teenager doesn't fuck you up."

"She swears too."

They seemed almost surprised. Y/N decided to skip the rest of the pleasantries.

"Money."

"What?"

"I want money."

Nico and Serafine looked at each other. Then, he smirked. She grinned. They both fell about laughing, leaving a confused Y/N to ping-pong between them and scowl.

"What's so funny?"

They only replied to each other in quick snippets of French she couldn't understand.

"What is it?" she repeated.

"T'as perdu, c'est toi qui paye," Serafine smirked to her brother, again ignoring Y/N's questions.

Nico rolled his eyes and rummaged around in a nearby tin. "Bien joué…"

He held out a wad of cash—and by god it was more than she had ever seen in her life! He was essentially offering her her own small fortune, most of it likely made of blood money.

She didn't take it right away. "What's all this about?"

Nico shook the money in front of her eyes. "Bettin' to see how long it'd take you to man up and ask."

Y/N was dumbfounded. "Ask?"

"For payment."

So, they were saying everything she had done for free, every risk and every broken law…

"All I had to do was ask?!"

Nico cracked a sickening grin. "Yes, cher."

Yes. That was all he said, the only confirmation. She wanted to scream, she wanted to shout, she wanted to take that rifle off the wall and—

She snatched up the money with a frown, shooting daggers from her eyes. She handed over the letter. "I hate you both."

Nico's grin softened. "Hate you too," he said with no real conviction or the previous bit she knew he could give.

Almost as if he was trying to be her friend.

They could try all they liked, but they wouldn't get far.

Not now.

[babbybones]

Ok i have a kinda dumb question that i am having trouble finding answers for, but what is the deal with Fandom (the site/company with all the wikis) sorry to ask but the name is so painfully generic i am having trouble finding info rip

@hope-punk put it pretty well in the replies of my post, so I hope they won't mind me quoting them here

if you've tried to look up a media specific wiki, you'll probably have found a Fandom wiki. That's Fandom with a capital, because they're a specific company. They operate a large wiki system that invites people to make wikis for whatever they want, and boast being the platform for many major wikis like the Minecraft wiki and Zelda wiki. However, going on a Fandom wiki will quickly make apparent the bad side of using Fandom wikis,

Fandom forces large, intrusive ads, auto play videos, the whole works onto the page, to the point where it becomes extremely unpleasant to use. In addition to this, they limit what you can do with your wiki compared to independent wikis or even other wiki networks, forcing large yellow sidebars and limited layouts. There's also pushes to make it a kind of social network with comments and such (which is… not what a wiki needs, at least in the format forced).

In addition to this, Fandom the company is quite frankly rabid in their push to consume or subsume fandom, hobby and media platforms. They recently acquired amongst other companies, Gamespot and GameFAQs, as well as other wiki platforms in the past. It takes a concerted effort to try and remain out of the grasp of Fandom the company, such as the wild steps the Blaseball fandom took to escape that someone added, or the Nintendo Independent Wiki Network

some other notable Fandom Crimes:

They purged LGBT-related wikis in an attempt to merge almost all of them into One Single LGBT Wiki, which is a nightmare idea considering the LGBTQ+ community is not a single unified monolith. Microlabels that were previously documented on the now-purged wikis were not considered notable enough to be documented on the merged wiki, and were instead directed to the Ezgender Wiki, placing an undue burden on wiki staff who weren't consulted about any of this in advance

On popular wikis, they'll sometimes put auto-playing videos on wiki pages outside of the wiki editors' control. These videos can contain spoilers or irrelevant/inaccurate information

Acquired Gamepedia, a competing wiki farm, and forcibly converted all of those wikis to Fandom's format. This is why Zelda Wiki, a founding member of the Nintendo Independent Wiki Alliance, is now on Fandom

Acquired and shut down Strawpoll.me

As I alluded to in the original post, you don't really "own" your wiki, and if your wiki makes Fandom a lot of ad revenue, they have a vested interest in keeping it up and running. If you make it obvious that you're trying to migrate or shut down such a wiki, they can simply get rid of you, replace you with new mods/admins, and revert anything they deem "vandalism" (basically, all signs that you were trying to migrate)

edit: can't believe I forgot to mention this but they've worked with the U.S. military

also reading Fandom wikis on mobile looks like this:

(id in alt text)

[generalchelseamayhem]

To put more of a fine point on it,

I'm not a fan of the police and the justice system as it currently stands in the United States (disclaimer: 2nd-hand accounts only, I don't actually live there)

but whenever the topic of prison abolition comes up I always find myself stopping short of endorsing any of its ideas because, frankly, the view that prison abolitionists hold is perilously close to a unicorns-and-rainbows "None of the people who will be served by prison abolition have ever been guilty of anything morally bad."

And while that might even be true in the majority of cases for the U.S., where nonviolent drug offences are everywhere, we're supposed to be building a justice system here. An ideal justice system simply cannot operate on the assumption that everyone would just be a morally good person who never did any crimes as long as prisons didn't exist. You have to deal with guilty parties somehow!

And that, really, is the question people are asking when they ask "what about rapists and murderers?" Because so much of prison abolitionist rhetoric is like "do you have any idea how many people there are rotting in prison who did nothing wrong and deserve another shot at life?" And that's a reasonable concern, but so is "What about the people who aren't like that?"

I mean, imagine trying to dismantle the police in a justice system that has no prisons. Cool, you've dismantled the police. Now you have a bunch of people who... weren't you just saying last week that a statistically significant fraction of them also beat their wives? Like I'm just saying, it sounds bad for the wives. Maybe someone should do something about that. No freaking idea what, since there are no mechanisms in society for restricting their ability to walk freely down the street, but something.

And like, when you press prison abolitionists on the issue of what replaces prisons, you get 1 of 2 answers:

Psychological counselling services for rehabilitation, which doesn't really serve the people who want to understand how morally reprehensible people will be dealt with under the prison-less justice system. (Is the idea that counselling will make them less evil, and if so, how does that work?)

Something that sounds suspiciously like a prison but isn't called that, which defeats the aim of prison abolition in the first place.