#who had faith in the wring people

[rey-ieatedurdrywall]

remember that before fanon or any changes to his character it is canon the regulus was just a boy. he was that young. he was a boy with horrible parents. he had no canon friends. he barely had a canon brother sirius never talked abt him to the point where harry didnt even think regulus as rab. regulus was and always will be just a boy with bad parents who wanted to be good. and he died trying to be good. no one ever knew he was good until after everyone he ever loved was dead, canon or fanon.

[irkimatsu]

I love your Husk works! Could you please write one where fem!reader gets along with everyone and Husk doesn't even realize that he's catching feelings, but maybe on a night out with everyone, someone comes up and starts heavily flirting with her. Ends with confessions and sugary sweet tooth rotting fluff please. 😍

God damn, anon, do you have any idea how hard it is to wring a confession out of this man? I was going along at a steady pace and then I got stuck for hours! I genuinely hope you like slowburn, because Husk doesn't go from zero-to-love easily. I think he's gotten a nice start here, though. It's definitely fluffy!

Husk/Fem!Reader starting a relationship. Mentions of drinking and attempted sexual assault that Husk interrupts before things get too heavy. SFW, 2.8k words. Enjoy! I hope this is what you had in mind, anon! Thank you so much for reading my works!

Your first few months staying at the Hazbin Hotel have gone quite smoothly; as smoothly as anything there can ever go, anyway. Charlie took an instant liking to you - she takes an instant liking to everyone, so it’s nothing special, but still. She can be a bit overbearing, but you know she means well, and she’s grateful to have someone who doesn’t immediately write off her trust exercises from the start.

Still, after all the sharing circles and art therapy, you occasionally find yourself craving more “adult” fun, and that’s where Angel and Cherri come in. It’s not that you don’t want to be redeemed, but what could be so sinful about enjoying yourself a little? You’re not doing anything dangerous or drastic, no drugs and no getting involved with the wrong people; you’re just having fun drinking, dancing, maybe smashing up some abandoned property if the opportunity strikes. Charlie can’t get mad at destruction if no one cares about the thing you just blew up, right?

The bartender, Husk, isn’t nearly as keen on those nights on the town, but you’ve still managed to bond with him on nights where you prefer to stay in. He’s a surprisingly good listener underneath his gruff exterior. (Perhaps too good of a listener; you hope he keeps ignoring whatever bullshit you might have spouted off after one too many of his cocktails.) He also has plenty of stories of his own, mostly from the time he spent alive. When you could get him talking, he’d weave incredible tales of nightlife, both from his home city in Las Vegas and all the other places he’d visited in his life. He seemed especially wistful when talking about a woman he knew back then. He could talk for hours about all the famous sites he was able to take her to, all the songs he would sing for her, and all the starry skies he’d dance with her under.

“It’s not like I blame her for leaving. I’m the one who screwed it up. But being in love… it was nice while it lasted.”

You try to encourage him with the hope that he could fall in love again, but he shakes his head with a bitter smile.

“I lost the ability to love years ago.”

—-

Your friendship with Angel and Cherri is so different compared to your friendship with Husk, so it took a few months before you could have a night out with all three of them. Charlie is once again less enthused about the idea of you four going out to party, but you promise to be relatively well behaved.

You promise, anyway. You can’t make promises for Angel’s sake, and as much as you love her, you know better than to have any faith in Cherri.

You’re surprised Husk agreed to come to a sex club at all. He never seemed like the type to be into that sort of thing. You’re less surprised to see that he has no intention of flirting with anyone and is instead perfectly happy to sit by the wall and knock back shots as quickly as the bartender can pour them.

Couldn’t he drink himself stupid back at the hotel, though? Why did he even come?

Is it just you, or has he been watching you the whole night?

The hours tick by, and you, Angel, and Cherri become progressively more wasted. Angel is currently hanging off of a muscular bull demon - damn, good for him - while Cherri tells you about another resident who used to stay at the hotel before he tragically lost his life during the last extermination.

“He was such a fucking idiot that it was charming, ya know? God damn I should have gotten to know him better when he was still around! I heard this rumor about him and never even got to find out if it was true!”

As she speaks, Cherri catches sight of a cobra demon who is currently chatting up a cluster of punk girls.

“Well, damn… maybe I’ll get to find out tonight. Don’t wait around for me, I’ll find my way back!”

With that announcement, Cherri is gone, leaving only you and Husk with about a dozen bar stools between you. He’s definitely keeping an eye on you; there’s still liquid in his glass, and  he’s watching you instead of guzzling it.

What’s his deal? If he wants to spend the night with you, why doesn’t he just come over here? You decide not to go over there yourself; no sense in rewarding him if he’s playing mind games.

You instead turn your attention to a handsome wolf demon who has taken Cherri’s seat. “Drinking all alone, love?” he says, his deep voice smooth as butter. Right away this man gives you the air of a natural-born charmer who can win anyone’s trust within seconds, only to break their hearts within hours.

He’s hot, and you’re drunk. You’ll let him break your heart a little.

Your conversation starts normally enough, with low stakes topics like the music and the drink selection in the bar. You’re in no hurry to tell this man anything personal or leave this spot with him, but you’re enjoying looking at him and hearing him enough that you don’t mind being a bit of entertainment.

He bumps your knee with his at one point, but you pull your own knee away. At first he seems to take the hint, and time passes without any more advances.

Soon, however, he grows more bold.

“Why don’t we go somewhere else, baby?” he asks as he lightly squeezes your thigh. “Somewhere more private?”

“No thanks,” you say as you jerk your leg away, though the motion doesn’t make him let go. “I’m fine talking here.”

“You know this is a sex club, don’t you?” he says. His smile and voice haven’t changed, but somehow he seems much slimier than he did five minutes ago, and the strong paw gripping your leg that seemed so enticing in your head feels suffocating in reality.

“I’m not here for that, I’m just hanging out with friends-” You try to leave the stool, but the man throws his arm around your shoulders and pulls you in.

“Come on, babe! What did you think I was after by chatting you up like this? You’re not gonna leave me hanging, are you?” He’s holding you closely enough that his hot breath is hitting your face, and the stench of his cologne is making you gag. “C’mon, baby, I’ll show you a good time. You won’t regret this-”

“She said no.” Husk had somehow snuck his way to your side without you noticing, and was now glaring daggers at your pursuer. “Back off.”

“Who are you, her grandpa?” the wolf laughs, refusing to unhand you. “Or just a nasty old man who likes ‘em young?”

Your captor’s laughter is quickly interrupted by a high-pitched howl. His face is now adorned with four jagged, bleeding lines.

“What the fuck, old man?” he yells as he unhands you. Just as quickly as you’re unhanded, you’re grabbed again, this time by Husk grabbing your waist and pulling you away.

“I knew I fucking hated this place,” he growls. “Where are Cherri and Angel?”

You have no idea, but your first guess has you looking toward the sex rooms in the back of the club.

“Jesus Christ… they’ll find their own way home. Come on, we’re going back to the hotel.”

You don’t appreciate being dragged out of the club like a misbehaving child, but as the alcohol clouds your thinking, you can’t quite formulate a protest.

Considering how pissed off your admirer must be right now, maybe it’s for the best that you don’t stay.

—

The walk back to the hotel is blurry; if Husk had anything to say to you besides pissed off obscenities muttered beneath his breath, you don’t remember it. Your next memory finds you laying on the couch in the lobby, your head aching from a combination of a hangover and the time spent laying on the couch’s arm with your neck at a weird angle.

“What time is it…?” you murmur as your eyes try to adjust.

“About noon,” answers Husk from the bar. 

As you continue to look around the lobby, he appears to be the only one here. “Where is everyone?” you ask through a yawn.

“Angel and Cherri still aren’t back, but I’m sure they’re fine. Charlie and Vaggie left to give you some quiet. Alastor and Niffty…” Husk shrugs after their names, then falls silent.

You groan as you push yourself into a sitting position, one that has you facing Husk. He doesn’t appear to have anything to do, and is instead standing with his chin resting on his crossed arms atop the bar. An awkward silence falls between the two of you, giving you plenty of time to observe Husk’s body language, particularly the way his tail is lashing behind him while his ear gives the occasional twitch.

He is not in a good mood.

“Are you okay?” you ask. Your well-meaning question only seems to piss him off further; he answers not with a word, but with a growl. “Is this about last night?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he insists.

“I’m sorry I caused you trouble…”

“Wasn’t your fault.” His tail lashes even harder. “Just don’t worry about it, all right?”

You’re going to keep worrying about it until he stops looking so on edge.

“Thanks for getting me away from that guy last night,” you say, just in case you didn’t thank him in your drunken haze.

“Hey, it’s what a good bartender does. When you see someone starting shit with another patron, even if it’s not your bar, you take care of the problem. That fucker had no right to put his hands on you after you told him to cut it out.”

He may be gruff, but at least he has standards.

“Can’t believe Cherri and Angel left you alone in there… those two better not take you to anymore fucking sex clubs, you don’t need to be around shit like that…”

“I’m a grown adult,” you protest. “I didn’t want to sleep with that guy, but if I did want to get with someone at that club, that’s my business.”

Husk’s eyes widen for a moment, before he returns to his original dour expression. “Yeah… guess you’re right.”

“And what about you? You didn’t look interested in picking up anyone last night. Why’d you even come?”

“How do you know I wasn’t interested?” he shoots back. “Maybe I was interested in someone! Maybe I just… didn’t have the balls to go for it.” He stands up straight and shakes his head. “Look, can we drop this? Hang out in sex clubs if you want, I don’t fuckin’ care.”

He’s speaking with the tone of voice of someone who very much cares.

“I’m done with ‘em, though. You’re right, you’re an adult, you don’t need me hanging around like some fuckin’ guardian angel.” He pours a glass of clear liquid, and you expect him to down it himself, but he instead steps out from behind the bar still holding the full glass. “I overreacted last night. Shouldn’t have made it your fuckin’ problem.” He approaches the couch, takes a seat, and offers you the glass. “Here, one last favor. Drink this and I’ll get off your ass.”

You take the cup, wondering if for some ungodly reason he’s trying to get you to down straight vodka.

“Why are you looking at me like that? It’s water. That headache’s only gonna get worse if you’re dehydrated.”

You take a sip of the water, and after only a few swallows you’re already regaining a bit of your desire to live. “Thanks,” you say before taking another large gulp.

“No problem,” he responds. You expect him to return to the bar, but he remains next to you on the couch. His body language has gotten no less agitated. What is going on with him?

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you doting on Angel or Cherri like this,” you observe before finishing the glass.

“They’re used to it, and they’ve got each other,” he says as he takes the glass from you. “You want some more?”

You shake your head, and he remains seated with the glass.

“You, though… I don’t know, something about that guy just pissed me off,” he says. “Even before he started touching you I didn’t like him. Bartender’s intuition, maybe? I’m still not over the awful feeling he gave me.” He sighs heavily. “I just… hate the idea of seeing you get hurt in a place like that. I know Angel and Cherri can take care of themselves, but you’ve never seemed as wild as they do, so I wasn’t sure…”

“Is that why you were watching me the whole night?” you asked.

Husk’s body jolts. “Shit, you noticed?”

“I kept looking over there wondering if you’d ever move from that spot, and if you weren’t actively drinking you were staring at me,” you said. “You weren’t subtle.”

Husk groans as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “Sorry. I know you’re capable. I was just…”

“You weren’t there because you were interested in someone at all, were you?”

“I never said I wasn’t. I mean it when I said I just didn’t have the balls to say anything to ‘em. Instead, I just wondered… what I’d do if someone else asked ‘em. Knowing it’d be my own damn fault for not speaking up sooner. Trying to tell myself it wasn’t that big a deal if they went with someone else… until someone started flirting with ‘em, and touchin’ ‘em, and-” His body tenses as he growls, but relaxes after a moment. “Damn it, I haven’t had to do this in years...”

“Done what?”

“You know what I said about losing my ability to love years ago?” He turns his head and looks directly at you for the first time since he sat down. “...I think I’m remembering how to do it again.”

Things are starting to fall into place. “And the person who helped you remember is…?”

The slightest of smiles crosses his face. “Who do you think?”

You wouldn’t have guessed it before today, but it all seems so obvious in retrospect. He’d spent so many nights with you when he could have been in bed, just chatting with you or comforting you after a bad day. You’d really grown so fond of his smile, and Angel had told you before that he used to never smile.

But surely, you thought, he couldn’t have been smiling because of you…

“What am I even saying?” he asks as he turns away from you. “You died in the prime of your life, and down here you can have that prime forever. You could do so much better than a washed up old drunk.”

“You’re not washed up,” you assure him as you place your hand over his. “I think it’s great that you got to live such a full life! You have so many stories to tell, and so many talents… I bet there’s so much you haven’t told me yet.” You try to reassure him with a smile and a light squeeze to his hand. “So much you haven’t shown me, either. You talk a lot about when you were in a band, but I’ve never gotten to hear you play…”

“I haven’t touched an instrument in years,” he says. “I bet I don’t even remember how to play anymore.”

“Well, you don’t know if you don’t try, right?”

You don’t think you’re just saying that about instruments.

“It’s been such a long time… what if I screw up?”

You don’t think he’s just talking about instruments either.

“It can’t hurt to try. Maybe… maybe you’ll enjoy it even more than you remember.”

“Hmm…” He doesn’t seem fully at ease, but he hasn’t taken his hand back yet. “If I can get my hands on a saxophone, and I really haven’t forgotten how… sure. I’ll play for you.

…you just have to give me some time, okay? I’m not used to it anymore… especially with another person…”

“Take all the time you need,” you assure him.

He turns his hand around so he can hold yours back, and his smile seems to grow slightly. “Just gotta start slow… get used to things again…”

“You’ll be fine, I know you will,” you assure him. He seems content to leave the conversation there, but there’s one more thing you need to say. “Husk?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t think I’ll be going back to that club. No point when I’m not interested in picking up dates anymore.”

He squeezes your hand. “Glad to hear it.”

[hauntedwitch04]

Fallen angel

Priest!Remus Lupin x reader

Words: about 1.8k words

Warnings: smut, corruption kink, swearing, kinda voyeurism, not proofreaded

Author’s note: Hi loves! New day new kink, hope you like it, your witch Becky

Requests are open I Ask

My masterlist

Join the Taglist

If you like my works, consider to buy me a coffee - Patreon submission

KINKTOBER ...........-..........KINKTOBER TAGLIST 2023

DAY 14: Innocence

Remus knows it is wrong, but sinning has never been sweeter.

You came for Mass as you did every Sunday, together with your family. Remus always took a few minutes to look at you as you sat in the front row, in your usual cream and powder-pink dress, your little white shoes and the pink headband in your hair. If he hadn't known better, the young priest would certainly have thought you were an angel.

Throughout the mass he tried never to look at you, knowing that he would then have to hide a very obvious erection that would be very difficult to explain.

You are his forbidden dream and his most terrible perversion.You, with your air so graceful and your soul so good, were the one who would make even a saint sin, and Remus is convinced of this. There is no mortal soul according to him who would not think of your lips, your breasts, your legs in a sinful way.

Once the sacred service was over and the faithful were greeted, Remus headed for the confessional, knowing that a couple of people would be coming in seeking absolution. Usually he was not the one to hear confessions, but Father James, who, however, due to commitments could not do so today, so he had asked Remus to do so. At that thought he could not help but smile, thinking how he could ever grant absolution, when at night she often dreamed of you, as he fucked you, as you lay naked on top of the church altar.

Remus has been sitting in the confessional for a while, listening to people's sins and assuring them that God would forgive them if they showed a willingness to absolve themselves, when he decides to leave since there are other things to do and it has been several minutes since anyone came in after the last one who had come in, a man who had cheated on his wife with his sister.

The moment he is about to leave that cramped space, however, he hears your voice caressing the air.

"Father James, I should confess." You say in a voice slightly louder than a whisper.

Remus knows it is wrong the shiver that runs down his spine as he feels the sensation of desire growing inside him. He sits back as he wonders whether to tell the truth or to lie and pretend to be his friend, knowing that this would only be the beginning of the series of sins he would be thinking and doing, moments from now, imagining you kneeling beside him.

"Go ahead my child." Whispers the young priest as he imitates his colleague's voice.

"Father, I have sinned. The devil has taken me by the hand and led me down an evil road." You comment as you wring your hands.

"What have you ever done that is so terrible? You are an angel on earth, you cannot disappoint the Lord." Remus comments, as he feels his pants getting tighter and tighter, in imagining your lips inches away from his lap, separated only by a thin perforated wooden panel.

"I've been thinking about so many wrong things." You pause for a moment and then ask a question. "Father, if I tell you, you will never tell anyone right?"

"Of course angel, no one but me, you and Our Lord will ever know what you are going to tell me." Remus says, trying to reassure you; you nod and go on.

"Father, the other night I had a dream-a sex dream. I was-I was with this boy and he was touching my whole body, then his hands stopped...right there." You say, and Remus immediately closes his eyes, throwing his head back, praying himself not to come at that same moment in his pants.

"It was probably all because of that movie my friend showed me where there's a sex scene, since I've never been intimately with any man, but here's that's not the worst part."

"Oh no?" Remus asks, instinctively, as he feels his self-control slipping through his fingers as he puts his hand on the button that fastens his pants.

"No, because then when I woke up...here I didn't really know what I was doing, but I felt that I was very wet in my underwear and I didn't understand why."

"God child, what have you done?" Remus comments under his breath, not thinking you could hear him as he pulls his cock out of his pants and begins to massage it, since by now the erection was becoming too painful.

"Yes father, I know I sinned a lot, I know because then I did something I'm very ashamed of. I touched myself down there, and-and I think I gave myself pleasure." You confess, your voice almost on the verge of tears. Remus tightens his hand around your cock as he takes a deep breath and stops his movements, knowing that if he continued he would come in seconds.

"What exactly did you do my dear? How did you touch yourself?" Remus asks in a rough voice as he hears you fidgeting on the other side of the grate.

"But Father, I would sin one more time if I repeated it out loud." You comment frightened, as you feel your white panties getting wet again, under the pink skirt you wear.

"No my child. God, and I, need to know what exactly you have done, to absolve your sins, of course." You try to explain Remus convincingly. A few seconds of stalemate pass before you respond.

"You are right Father, I am so foolish. I'll tell you what I did then." You say, in a tone of conviction, before being interrupted again by the young priest.

"I think though if you just told it you might forget some things, and we definitely don't want something like that to happen right?"

"No Father, absolutely not. What do you recommend I do then?" You ask eager to please the priest.

"Why don't you try to do again what you did that night, too. Try touching yourself the same way you gave yourself pleasure as you tell me about it, try thinking about who you were thinking about that night as you came on your fingers." Remus says, and you feel a shiver run down your spine as hesitantly a hand immediately goes to the hem of your skirt. You spend a few seconds assessing the situation and then decide to do as Father advises, so you bring your right hand inside your white panties, and with one finger you brush your pussy, feeling how wet it is. This slight gesture of yours makes you moan, and Remus can't help but imagine you under him as you make all those lovely sounds.

"That's right, keep touching yourself while you tell me how you sinned bimbo." Remus says, taking his erection back in his right hand as some pre-cum slides from the tip to the base. The sensitive tip of his cock feels the drafts of air coming in through the small door in front of him, and he can't help but think those are the correspondence of your labored breathing.

"I put my hand in my panties, and with my middle finger I began to caress my..."

"Say it my child, don't be ashamed, it's more than natural."

"About my pussy. Slowly I started to move my finger around, to see if it really feels as much pleasure as it said in the movie, and that's how I found out that it does, but it takes time. Then after a few minutes of touching her, I tried to stick a finger inside."

"Did you like it?"

"Not so much at first, then after a few times I was going back and forth, like he did in the movie, I started to like him a lot, however I couldn't get to the pleasure." You continue, while touching yourself in the same way you are telling it, however the pleasure this time comes much faster than the first time, as you already feel on the verge of orgasm.

"And how did you get to orgasm baby?" Remus asks, as he knows he too is getting closer and closer to reaching the pinnacle of pleasure.

"I imagined it was someone else doing those things on me." You confess shyly between moans. Your hand is completely wet, and your fingers are also cramping, but you don't care.

"And who were you thinking of?"

"To Father Remus. "You whisper in a low voice as a wave of embarrassment washes over you. "Father James please absolve me, please remove this stain from my soul, I cannot live knowing I will end up in the clutches of Mephistopheles." You pray as your fingers quicken.

"Cum. And I will absolve you my child, come now my little fallen angel." Remus says, before coming himself with powerful spurts, in his own hand, as he imagines you convulsing after your orgasm, your plump lips wide open as you moan and your sinful chest poking out of your dress.

At the same time you come around your fingers, moaning and rolling your eyes in pleasure as you feel every muscle in your body contract and relax without you having control over anything.

"Father am I absolved?" You ask with bated breath, as you adjust your skirt, and try to make yourself presentable again. Remus struggles to catch his breath too, especially as he thinks back to the final confession you made: you think of him when you have to give yourself pleasure.

Part of him would like to console you by saying that he is not just thinking about the other person to get to orgasm, but knowing that this is not the case, he decides to adopt another technique.

"Of course my dear, no sin stains your candid soul anymore, just a piece of advice. Just the next one I advise you to go and report these kinds of sins and problems directly to Father Remus, he is a very open-minded man who specializes in the kind of problem you have child."

"What is my problem, Father?" You ask fearfully.

"I think it's really a sex demon, angel." At Remus's words you wince, but he immediately heartens you. "Don't worry baby, he's very good and will know how to help you, but it's important that you don't tell anyone about your condition, okay?"

"Of course Father James, thank you for the advice, I will go right away and talk to Father Remus tomorrow."

"Good, very good my sweet fallen angel." He says, before saying goodbye and hearing you leave.

TAGLIST

@digitalhearts @yomomsgf @samanddeansannoyingsis @minkiles @forsiriussake @thedogisontopofyhecarmom @estrellademiel @ash04w3 @shitidksstuff @ohemgeewhat @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @kidsaproblem @that1nerd20 @the-house-of-rose-and-ember @hi-my-name-is-riley @morganalatina21 @nightfiress @shodowbane09 @theyluvtrinity21 @harleycao @starsval @shhdontlookk @titinkaaa @sapphire118 @xbugsyx @newtdumbledoorstarksoot @holb32 @afcnds @deanwinchestersgirl87 @aunicornmademedoit @AlohaStitch0626 @biahz1

[linddzz]

I think almost (almost) more than the open bigots the people that piss me off faster than anything are the dipshits who try to act like they just have brand new concerns about "grooming" lgbt folk. "I just don't think this club should be supported by the school and I'm disturbed you don't agree" fuck OFF with your fake good-faith hand wringing. GSA was a thing in highschool when I was a kid. Target's had a pride collection for years and it's always been ugly as hell. There were always kids shirts for the same sex married couples with kids.

None of this is new you just finally got a new framing to make your bigotry acceptable. You can lie to yourself that it's a new valid concern but fuck off.

[anotherhumaninthisworld]

Élisabeth Lebas talking about Robespierre like he’s the Messiah or something compilation

[Edgar Degas] told me that, when he was a child, his mother one day took him to rue de Tournon to visit Madame Lebas, widow of the famous Convention deputy who, on 9 thermidor, killed himself with a pistol. When the visit was over, they withdrew with small steps, accompanied to the door by the old lady, when Madame Degas suddenly stopped, deeply overwhelmed. Letting go of her son's hand, she pointed at the portraits of Robespierre, of Couthon, of Saint-Just, that she had just noticed were hanging on the walls of the antechambre, and she couldn’t keep herself from crying out with horror: ”What! You still keep the faces of these monsters here!”  ”Be quiet, Célestine!” Madame Lebas cried out ardently, ”be quiet… They were saints!” Discours de l’Histoire prononcé à la distribution solennelle des prix du Lycée Jeanson-de-Sailly held by Paul Valéry on July 13 1932, cited in Robespierre ou les contradictions du jacobinisme (1978) by Albert Soboul.

I was able to converse, between 1838 and 1839, with a famous parrot who had been the friend of Robespierre. He belonged to Mme the widow Lebas, the wife of the famous Convention deputy who chose to die with Robespierre, and the mother of M. Lebas, Hellenist scholar, who died a few years ago. Mme widow Lebas, a very respectable woman, whom I had the honour of seeing often in her little house in Fontenay-aux-Roses, where she would make the sign of the cross when she pronounced the name Robespierre, adding these words: Saint Maximilien. As for her parrot, when one said "Robespierre", it replied Hats off! Hats off! It sang the Marseillaise with perfect diction and Ça ira like a Jacobin. It was — and perhaps, thanks to its diet of grain, still is — a sans-culotte parrot, the like of which can no longer be found. Mme Lebas recounted with great emotion how she had managed to save this precious psittacus  after Thermidor.  It had been seriously compromised.  After the arrest of Robespierre and Lebas, in the course of a long domiciliary inspection,  every time the name of Robespierre was pronouned the parrot would repeat its refrain, Hats off! Hats off! The government agents had grown impatient and were about to wring its neck, when Mme Lebas, as quick as lightning,  grabbed the bird, opened the window and set it free. The poor parrot flew from window to window, until it found a charitable person to open up for it; a few days later Madame Lebas was able to regain possession of this last friend left to her by Robespierre, the only one perhaps, besides his elderly mistress, who has remained faithful to his memory.  L’Union médicale: journal des intérêts scientifiques et pratiques, moraux et professionnels du corps médical (1861) volume 12, page 258-259.

Finally our providence, our good friend Robespierre, spoke to Saint-Just to engage him to let me depart with [him and Lebas], along with my sister-in-law Henriette. Élisabeth’s memoirs, cited in Le conventionnel Le Bas: d’après des documents inédits et les mémoires de sa veuve (1901), by Stéfane-Pol, page 131.

…If you had been informed of my residence, I would have been eager to tell you the truth. The good that you say of our martyrs is not too charged: they were the true friends of liberty; they lived only for the people, for their fatherland; but some monsters, in one day, destroyed everything; in one day they assassinated liberty. Yes, monsieur, a republican like you would have been happy to know those men, so virtuous on all accounts; they all died poor. Note written by Élisabeth a few years before her death regarding ”a work treating the revolution” (l’Histoire des Girondins?). Cited in Ibid, page 147.

[nedlittle]

everyone give it up for another year of flops, disappointments, and failures!! i read some absolute dogshit this year and now i have to share my suffering with the rest of you

the bangalore detectives club by harini nagendra ⭐

Why go through all the trouble of setting up that plot thread only to retract it at the next possible moment? That's not even a red herring. That's padding for a mystery that apparently took 13 years to cook and still came out fucking raw.

vampires of el norte by isabel cañas ⭐

Isabel Cañas writes like she's being held at gunpoint by a thesaurus.

the plague letters by v. l. valentine ⭐

I have read books with nonsense plots and books with horrible characters and books that read like a first draft done on the back of a napkin in crayon, but never, NEVER EVER have i read a book where the author decides to sprinkle in the fact that one of the protagonists can see ghosts at the halfway point.

yellowface by r. f. kuang ⭐.5

Yellowface, more than anything, rings hollow as a critique of privilege when written by someone who went to an elementary school where one year cost more than all four years of my university tuition combined.

everyone knows your mother is a witch by rivka galchen ⭐.75

Overall, I do not recommend this book except as a sleep aid.

manhunt by gretchen felker-martin ⭐.75

I weep for the potential Manhunt would have had if Gretchen Felker-Martin's Internet access had been cut off while she was writing.

the petticoat men by barbara ewing ⭐.75

This is a book your mom mentions she read for her book club because she wants you to know that she read a book about gay people.

the crimson ribbon by katherine clements ⭐⭐

The issue isn't that Clements decided to make Lizzie Poole gay. She decided to make Lizzie Poole gay so that her eventual execution would be more tragic. This isn't even a bad-faith reading of the text.

a rustle of silk by alys clare ⭐⭐

you don't need to be good at your job or care about what you're writing, you just have to have enough ideas to be able to wring every shred of life from your original gimmick until publishing decides they're no longer interested.

lovers at the chameleon club, paris 1932 by francine prose ⭐⭐

Francine, you did not make up those characters or events. You changed the names after reading a couple of history books on Paris.

[itsgameofthronesimagines]

Kinslayer

(Gif not mine)

Fandom: House of the Dragon

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Summary: Aemond returns home after the events of Storm’s End and his wife demands an impossible request. 

Word Count: 1,874

Warnings: Angst, mentions of death, betrayal, faith-based delusion, implied rape at the end

Author's Note: Fine. Since no one has requested anything for Aemond, *cue Thanos impression* I'll do it myself. Sorry but I’m obsessed the the ‘our violent delights’ ao3 fic atm and I’ll be damned if I don’t write about Aemond myself.

(I do not consent for my works to be reposted/copied)

The council room is quiet after Aemond arrives and reports his crime. No one moves or even dares to breathe until Alicent finally rises from her chair, admittedly shaken as she smoothes down her dress. She can’t even look her son in the eye as she turned her body in his direction, instead watching her hands wringing together, “Aemond... does anyone else know of this?”

Aemond shifts his footing, fists clenched, but he keeps his chin held high, “Borros Baratheon might be an idiot, but he forbade blood to be shed on the floors of his home. I left soon after Lucerys did, so I can imagine Lord Borros knows. He truly would be a fool if he thought dragons could dance without death.”

“And you must truly be a fool if you thought you could start a war in the name of your missing eye!” The Queen Regent screams back, the whole room ringing with her voice and overpowering Aemond’s attempt at confidence. The whole room stills, lingering in Alicent’s proclamation until she fills the silence with gasps of breath. She crumbles slightly, holding her gut in disgust while trying to hold back the tears. Fear was evident in her eyes, and suddenly Aemond was no longer confident in his stride. When she finally locked eyes with his, Aemond felt himself cower in the ferocity of his mother’s gaze, “Go to your chambers.”

Guilt overcomes Aemond in tenfold compared to how he felt flying over Strom’s End. He’s used to Alicent’s anger being directed at Aegon, not him. He was truly his mother’s son, after all, “Mother...”

“Go!”

~~~~~~~~~

The walk to his wife’s chambers was dreadful, each step heavier than the last. His stomach felt like lead, weighing him down with his shame and his guilt. Already, servants walked around him in a wide berth and whisper to one another, as one usually does when rumors spread fast in King’s Landing. Aemond pretends not to hear them, but he hears the one word, nevertheless, stabbing him in the back as he walks past the whisperers.

‘Kinslayer.’

If Aemond could be honest with himself, just for a moment, he would much rather people whisper about his appearance instead of weighing him down with such a shameful title.

He opens the heavy doors to his wife’s chambers, and tonight the doors weighed heavier than normal. His young wife, Y/n stood by the fire until she heard him, then whipped her head around with dread evident in her eyes. Aemond cringed at the sight. He had hoped to explain to her what had happened. Y/n is a proud woman, powerfully faithful to the Seven and the laws of the Seven Kingdoms. If she had only married his brother, she would be a mighty queen who instills justice in all those who dare to break the law. He had hoped by being the first to tell her what he had done, Aemond hoped to calm her growing anger.

“What...? What did you do?” Her voice cracked between words, her tone harsh and likely shrouding her rage. Her eyes blinked back tears of disbelief, willing her husband to speak the truth before she could make any assumptions.

He winced, but kept his explanation short, “I lost control of Vhagar.”

Her sneer is vengeful, striking terror in Aemond One-Eye’s heart. Her justice rings true and strikes swiftly with her vulgar words, “Horse shit! I may not bear the privilege of a dragon rider, but I know of the bond between man and beast. Everyone knows.”

“A dragon is not a slave,” he tries to defend.

“No, but it is a companion,” she rounds the furniture and beelines for him. It took everything in Aemond not to retreat, “One who is so deeply bonded with its rider, they could feel each other’s sorrow. I couldn’t possibly imagine what Vhagar must have gone through in order to do what she did to Laena Velaryon. A dragon knows the intent of its rider. Some maesters even speculate that a dragon knows its rider’s inner thoughts and desires. Laena wanted to die by dragonfire... And you wanted Lucerys Velaryon dead.”

Aemond’s head snaps up, denying her accusation with every breath, “I would never--”

“Even if you didn’t command it, Vhagar knew it to be true. She only did what your heart truly desired. And even if you did lose control of Vhagar, would you admit it to the people of Westeros?”

Aemond tightens his jaw, refraining from voicing his inner thoughts and angrily looking away. Y/n’s disdain for him grows as she straightens her back, unimpressed as she watches him pout at the wall, “I didn’t think so. You’re too proud for that. Imagine the fear it would instill in people if Aemond Targaryen admitted to losing control over the largest dragon in the world. Tell me, husband, would you rather be shamed for losing control of your dragon or be shamed for murdering your nephew?”

He hadn’t realized she was standing directly before him until he felt her hot breath lightly grazing his neck. And yet, he refused to look at her. If he had, he would’ve seen betrayal etched in her eyes, grief, and anger wilting her beauty as she forced herself to choke back a sob. Rectifying her composure when she didn't receive an answer, her eyes glance down at his torso while strengthening her words, making sure to turn her expression into a blank slate, void of emotion.

“Then there’s nothing else to discuss. You have turned yourself into a Kinslayer. It’s dishonorable and unlawful. You can do nothing to redeem yourself other than go North and take the black.”

His long, silk-like hair whips around him like a silver flag as he spun his one-eyed glare to direct at her. Even as he towered over her, imposing and intimidating, she bravely held her ground as he yelled in her face, “You’re asking me to cower in exile?! To run to the Wall and shame my family name?!”

“You had done that already by murdering your nephew for a child’s revenge,” she retorted, adding the venom in her voice to act as a whip, further damaging her husband’s pride, “Whatever you decide now will decide whether or not you continue to shame your family.”

“There’s no honor in running.”

Another quick lash of her whip, “There’s no honor in killing a boy on a peace mission either.”

“I would not fly North on Vhagar--”

“No, you wouldn’t. To sentence her to a cold, bitter exile when you alone are at fault for her actions is cowardice at best. Vhagar will remain here. You alone must take this journey.”

“We’re at war!” He finally roared, “I cannot leave with war at our doorstep!”

“War is only brewing because you made it so!” She screamed back.

“I will not take the black!”

“If you loved me, you would."

Her voice breaks, the emotions now rearing their ugly heads. Aemond’s rage pauses momentarily as he watches her face crumble with tears and breathless sobs. She relents her stiff posture, stepping away from him as she tries to find something to do with her hands, her heart practically bleeding out with her words, “If you value my honor as your wife and as a servant to the gods, you will not stain me with this shame.”

Aemond slowly relents his rage as well, letting the room fill with Y/n's gasps and cries as he hangs his head. The words stung as he knew they would. He may be proud as a dragon rider and as a Targaryen prince, but his wife is an equally proud religious woman; a true believer in purity, honor, loyalty, and justice. Up until this point, she was proud to have him as a husband, believing that he valued her morals and beliefs. In a way, he did. Aemond valued Y/n for all she is and for all she held dear, even if they had vastly different opinions. In her eyes, he was a faith-militant, much like his mother who he had doted upon. Aemond said his prayers and was dutiful to his family. He avoided sin and only slept in his lawful wife's bed. Even though Aegon was King, Aemond was the closest thing to The Father reincarnated. Whether or not he did these things to please her, Y/n was overjoyed when she married him, believing the gods spun the two of them out of the same cloth.

Delusional, perhaps, but Y/n was once a young girl who had to believe in something whilst living in a world that wasn't made for her, or else she'd go mad. Faith was the only thing she had, even when she married Aemond. She had nothing to her name besides her faith, all other pieces or belongings she owned were either lost to her father or gained by her husband. In her eyes, nothing was actually hers, not even the clothes on her back. The only thing she knew no one could take away from her was her faith.

And yet, even now, she felt that faith waver, ever so slightly. She loved Aemond, and if she could, she'd love to keep him. But her faith compels her to be estranged from him after the crime he committed. Y/n felt torn in two, disgusted with herself for even entertaining the idea of keeping Aemond as her husband, knowing the gods and all those with strong faith would shame her for it.  

Aemond knows this. He knows his wife as well as how strongly she kept her virtue close to her heart. He valued that in her, and yet could not even look her in the eye as he takes that from her, too, “... I will not take the black.”

He hears her suck in a sharp breath, before letting out a meek whisper, “Then you do not love me.”

He hears her footsteps turn away from him, so he spares a glance. Y/n had turned and walked away from him, stumbling slightly in her grief and pain. She paused at the foot of her bed, turning her head back in his direction, resigned and defeated, "Leave me, Aemond, or do you mean to shame me more?"

The question both shocks and disgusts him. Getting over the initial slap to his ego, all Aemond wanted to do is to continue screaming at her, demanding why she thought he would stoop to such a low, disgusting sin. He wants to shout up to the gods and to his wife how he is nothing like his brother and he would never do such a thing to his wife of all people--

The anger is too much, and if he were a dragon, Y/n would be in ashes. To avoid further conflict, Aemond storms out of her chambers, only to rip apart his own once he got there. Guilt and shame were no longer at the forefront of his mind. Instead, they are replaced with the might of a prince and the rage of a dragon. Without any fire, he instead rips apart his pillows, turning over his desk, and breaking the spine of his books. In the distance, he hears Vhagar roar, and he wishes that his wife's words weren't still crawling through his ears.

“--One who is so deeply bonded with its rider, they could feel each other’s sorrow. A dragon knows the intent of its rider."

~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I love shower thoughts. I know it’s short, but I really, really love this. Please support and leave a request in the ask box!

[positivelybeastly]

"So there are mutant-hunting robots now." Tess rests her chin on her knees, arms wrapped tightly around her legs as she fixes the television with a baleful eye. A new episode of VH1: Behind the Music is playing. "Jean was a malevolent space goddess. You found proof of alien life and almost went to war with them." Her brows furrow, revealing a little age line that wasn't there the last time he saw her in person.

"Morph got blown up and brainwashed by some asshole who sounds like he's going to be a real problem--" yeah, no shit--"and I..." She sighs, rubbing a hand across her tired eyes. "I don't know who Jubilee and Bishop are."

A wet sniff.

Tess--the Tess he knew--had a nasty psychosomatic vomit reaction. She's not even lunging for a trash can, just a little green. And looking utterly lost, until she hides her face in her arms. (Get it together, X-Man.) "Good find." Her voice is muffled." Glad to have them on the... on the team."

For everyone else, she's been a g-ddamn trooper. Tess McKay, ready to be back on the job! Tess McKay, who fucking loves being an X-Man and didn't spend the last four years lost in a dimension of shrimp people. Hah-hah! Tess McKay, acerbic as ever!

Hank knows her better. Always did, really.

Having one's life upended while wearing the uniform is a rite of passage. (Hank? He went blue and furry. Morph? Mistaken for dead and brainwashed by an evil scientist. Jean? Apparently possessed by a big psychic space bird.) She'll get past it. Everyone will catch her up on what she's missed. Things won't be the same, but they'll be good, and even if the world's moved on without her, she's so... happy to be back. With everyone. With this ragtag group of weirdos who became her family.

Except--

"Oh, Hank. He's gone."

When the sob comes, it's low and ragged, wringing the breath out of her.

"The Professor's gone..."

"Our government chose to deploy so called 'robot policemen' in one of their more scatter brained and authoritarian breaches of common sense, this is in fact true."

Every now and then, Hank's eyes flick up from the chronometric circuits that Bishop's time band is laced with, the fine point of his laser solder erupting in a brilliant burst of light every now and then.

The episode of VH1: Behind the Music that Tess has elected to leave the television on is all about Fleetwood Mac, and the inter-band conflict is fascinating enough that Hank finds himself sucked in, even as the secrets to time travel literally sit in his hands.

"Well, to be precise, I didn't nearly go to war with anyone. The micro-nation of Henry Philip McCoy would put up a very poor showing in a protracted conflict with an intergalactic super-power, though I thank you for your faith in my abilities, Tess."

The humour comes to an end when the tone shifts and he remembers what happened to Morph, a sad look in his eye. Some days, he wonders what might have happened if he had been the one 'killed' in action that day, and Morph who had been imprisoned. He might have suffered the same fate, and he's . . . ashamed to admit, he isn't sure he would have stood up to Sinister's tampering as well as Morph did.

". . . Lucas and Jubilation are both fine individuals, Tess. You'll like them. I know that you will."

Then comes the wet sniff, and he flips down off the rafters, putting down the time band. His fuzzy blue mitts, warm and strong, come to rest on her arm, and he squeezes gently, offering her the comfort. He's here. He can help her weather any storm, any turbulence, any upset. That's what he does, he helps people. He does his best, at any rate.

But then . . . he's gone. And Hank doesn't have to question for a moment who she means, and his chest goes tight even as he gathers her up into a hug and pulls her against him, resting his chin on her head as he presses a soft kiss to her scalp. It's a gentle gesture, it's loving. It's kind, above all else. It's an attempt to reassure, even as he feels his own lip wobble and he casts his blue eyes upwards, trying to contain the tears he feels welling up in them.

"I know, Tess. I know. It's going to be all right. It will, I promise."

[rainbowsky]

Hello. I'm wondering which type of cpfs do you consider toxic. Are you one of those who think it is wrong for mtjjs to get angry at cpfs who came to SDC5 final bringing sign/lights that have nothing to do with WYB? Do you also believe WYB or his team is happy to see all those red lights there? Is it ok for cpfs to chant bjyxszd loudly in official events? Does provoking solo fans equal support for ggdd in this fandom? Do all cpfs really wish that WYB is always inferior to xz in everything?

I am the sort of BXG that believes everyone should stay in their own lane, moto.

The idea that a MTJJ can come to my blog trying to make a case that BXG behaved badly at that event when I saw the video footage that showed both groups behaving in outrageous ways they should be deeply ashamed of, it's just beyond the pale.

All these questions are things you should be self-reflecting on. Do you really think DD and his team were proud of MTJJ any more than they were of BXG? Pull your head out of that place where it's planted.

If you want my thoughts on how that event went down, you can read my post about it here. But you shouldn't be focusing on what I'm doing and what I'm thinking or what any BXG is thinking or doing, you should be focusing on yourself and your own behavior and your own fandom. Stay in your own lane.

If you're not focused on DD and instead are focused on us, who can you really say you're a fan of?

Are you the kind of person who believes that a woman who wears a pretty dress is at fault if she gets raped? I certainly hope not. The only person responsible for bad behavior is the perpetrator of that behavior. There's no such thing as 'provocation'. Everyone makes their own choices about how to behave, and everyone is responsible for their own behavior. End of story.

Anyone who truly had DD's interests at heart that night would have de-escalated and walked away from any conflict so as not to embarrass him at an event where he wasn't even the focus.

And if you're not trying to 'provoke' me, Anon, what exactly you're trying to do with this message? You do not appear to be asking in good faith, you appear to be sending me a passive-aggressive screed. Don't you think that's more than a little bit hypocritical?

I couldn't help but notice you capitalized WYB but not XZ. Was it unintentional, or was it an act of hatred toward GG?

Look - nothing can make Yibo inferior to anyone. You should know that as his fan. The fact that I - a 'dirty old CP fan' - can see his unassailable beauty more than you can, should embarrass you given your apparent anti-CP attitude.

I'm not so insecure about his qualities and abilities as to need to 'defend his honor'. His honor is beyond reproach, and his achievements and independence are above any diminishment from randos online or from other artists, husbands or industry people. He doesn't need us to defend him.

Solo fans need to get it into their heads that the only people with the power to shut turtles down are GG and DD. The fact that they have chosen not to do so should give you pause and make you humble.

The thing that solo fans will never understand, is that there are as many perspectives on how to be a turtle as there are turtles. Turtles are not a monolith.

There are turtles who behave in ways that I find incredibly offensive, just as there are turtles who behave in ways that I respect. The same is true for solos. There are some whose approach to fandom I respect, and some I find awful. I don't spend too much time hand-wringing over what other people do. Live and let live. That is what GG and DD have asked of their fans.

The hilarious thing is, MTJJ think that turtles don't care about DD, and XFX think that turtles don't care about GG. They're so full of their own hatred toward the other man that they can't get their head around the idea that we love them both. I'm not sure toxic solos are really capable of seeing that love. They're too full of hate.

If you've spent any amount of time on my blog, you will find that love on every page.

I don't like it when people feminize and oversexualize GG, and I don't like it when people infantilize and underestimate DD, regardless of what fandom they claim to be a part of. I view GG and DD as equals and as individuals with their own achievements and autonomy. It annoys me when people fail to see their individuality and their humanity - whether out of ignorance, inexperience, bigotry, fantasy, lack of reflection or from having been misled by others.

However, other people's behavior is none of my business. Everybody gets to be a fan in the way they want to be a fan.

Even though I think MTJJ's anti-BXG and anti-GG behavior hurts DD and probably makes him feel like shit on a regular basis, I really don't spend much time stressing out about it. You have to make your own choices, and if showing him how much you don't accept him is your choice, that's yours to live with.

It is not my job to police other people, nor is it your job to do so. We should all stay in our own lane and mind our own business. And however possible we should learn to get along with each other, because we aren't going anywhere.

Accept it. Turtles are here to stay just as MTJJ are.

You should be glad that DD has our support just as I'm glad that he has MTJJ support. The more support he gets, the better. In an industry as mercurial and hostile as C-ent can be, every star can use all the support they can get.

We have been supporting Yibo as a group for 4 years now. Our numbers are only growing. Find it within yourself to accept us rather than trying to start a war.

I will continue to say this to every fan who writes me about topics like this, whether it be a BXG, a MTJJ or a XFX. Stay in your own lane.

[hacash]

that last post made me think of the guy who does my parents' windows - he's an absolute sweetheart by all accounts and also has genuinely experienced real mistreatment in his life. his father was a domestic abuser and physically beat him; reading between the lines his mother has been emotionally and spiritually abusive to him. his ex-partner was physically and emotionally abusive to him for several years: when he left her she then made false police reports on him and nearly landed him in prison. he's been made homeless and experienced bankruptcy. he's had a really hard go of it. I feel genuinely ill hearing about some of the stuff he's been through, and am so so passionate that he deserves better.

he's also an anti-vaxxer and seems really susceptible to misinformation and conspiracy theories circulating the internet. he crucially doesn't have any faith in the overall political and social system, because - well, why would he? to believe that people in power will look after you (through vaccines, or honoured manifesto promises, or whatever) you need an ability to trust those people in power, and some people have been raised in an environment that makes that sort of trust really hard to foster.

now all that doesn't reduce the damage that not getting vaccinated can cause, and if my parents ever caught covid because of him I'd wring his neck...but it should also be horribly obvious why someone who has been put through all that shit would be so vulnerable to misinformation and conspiracy theories. and just as his circumstances don't mitigate the damage his theories could cause, his anti-vax status doesn't mitigate the fact that he deserves so much better than what our current system has given him.

I dunno, I just think it's more productive to examine why our systems are letting people like this slip through the cracks and then focus on getting education out there, rather than demanding that people either educate themselves or be considered lost causes forever afterwards.

[alphashley14]

One Of Us

A Scooby Doo: Mystery Incorporated/Mystery Skulls Crossover

<Prev Next>

Chapter Eight

555

“Lewis! Calm down!” Vivi snapped.

“Calm down? Calm down? Vivi, there’s no way we can let Arthur go through with this!” Lewis roared.

“Like, dude,” Shaggy said with a bit of caution, “I know that you’re like, worried about Arthur. But like, it isn’t up to you.”

“The hell it isn’t!” Lewis snapped. He paced anxiously, running his fingers over and through his hair as he struggled to maintain his mortal illusion through his emotions. “Arthur, you idiot! Why would you offer to do such a thing? He could be seriously hurt, or killed! And without us to protect him-” 

“I told him the same thing.” Ricky said, wringing his hands. “I tried to talk him out of it. I swear I did. I made it clear what the risks were, I offered alternatives. But he was very insistent and all I could do in the end was tell him everything he wanted and needed to know to get it done.” 

“And why should we believe you? ” Lewis rounded on him. “It’s your mess Arthur’s caught in. You’re probably glad he’s stuck dealing with it for you!” 

“Like, hey! Uncool, man!” Shaggy said. Ricky looked over at him bewildered that he was being stood up for. “Like, I get it. You’re upset about the situation and worried about Arthur. But like, I was there, man. And that’s like, totally not how it went down! Mr. E’s telling the truth. About like, everything. Arthur confirmed it. Which is why he wanted to do this.”

“I don’t know about this Shag,” said Fred. “Mr. E’s lied to us a lot in the past.” 

“Yeah Shaggy,” Daphne agreed. “Mr. E gives me the creeps- uh… no offense?” 

“Some taken.” 

“And anyway, how do we know we can trust him this time?”

“Like, um…?” Shaggy glanced over at Mr. E and rubbed the back of his neck. “Things got like… pretty deep while we were in the Sitting Room. I don’t think it’s my place to say all that was said but like, he’s earned my trust. And Arthur’s- And like, Angel had some faith left in him, too. Right to the very end. And like, we all know we should have trusted her! So like… can’t that be enough?” 

“You don’t have to hold information back on my account Shaggy,” Ricky mumbled, swallowing to chase away the feeling rising from the back of his throat at the mention of Cassidy. And that she’d had faith in him. “It’s not like I’ve earned it.” 

“Hey man. Like, you opened up a lot back there. This isn’t an ‘about you’ thing more as a ‘having basic respect for other people’ thing.” 

Even so, it was pathetic how touched Ricky was by the gesture. “Even so,” he gulped, “There’s nothing I told you back there that I don’t want the specific people here at this moment to know.” 

“Thank you for that. And I’m sure we’ll have a discussion about that in the near future. But not here and now. Our focus right now needs to be on Arthur.” Said Mystery. 

“Mystery is right,” Vivi agreed. “We may not like it, but if Arthur’s decided to do this, then as his friends all we can do is support him from the sidelines.” 

“You’re seriously agreeing to this? Vivi-” 

“It’s non-negotiable, Lewis.” Vivi interrupted her boyfriend. “However, you do have a point that doubt is warranted.” 

“He knew you’d have doubts.” Ricky said. “He told us: ‘he wanted to be brave like Galahad-’ sorry- ‘ Gala-ham ’.”

The Mystery Skulls looked at each other. 

“I didn’t mention Galahad to anyone. Did you?” Lewis asked. 

“Nope. What about you?”

“I did not.” 

“Then this confirms it. They’re telling the truth. They really did talk to Arthur.”

“Wait. Time out. Sorry, am I missing something? Who or what is Galaham?” Velma asked, hands on her hips. 

“Arthur’s handicapped hamster.” Lewis explained. “He travels with us sometimes, but he’s back home with Arthur’s Uncle right now. There’s no reason either Ricky or Shaggy should know he exists unless-”

“Oh, come on! This is ridiculous and has gone on long enough!” Velma cried. As hard as she was denying it, Velma was seriously beginning to freak out. Body swapping? Interdimensional beings? Parallel Universes? If it was true then it would change everything she’d ever known about the world, and her knowledge was how she kept her reality grounded. To have it ripped out from under her feet in such a way would be… devastating. 

So what could she do but deny it harder?

“Seriously, Velma? I think we’ve all established that what we’re dealing with is the real deal.” Said Fred, exasperated. 

“Oh, please ! There are so many holes in this story and so many ways this all could have been faked that it’s not even funny.” 

“There’s a skeptic in every family,” Mystery grumbled, rolling his eyes from where he laid in the open back of Arthur’s van. 

“Name them.” Ricky challenged. 

“Name what?” Velma asked.

“Name the holes. Because it’s clear to me Velma, that you might be one of the smartest people here, but you’re going to be of absolutely no help until you’re on board.”

“Alright. Fine. To start, Shaggy, it’s impossible to prove that you’re actually Mr. E. A good actor could easily pull off acting like another person.” 

“Like that’s easy to explain: I can’t act.” Shaggy laughed in Arthur’s body. There were nods of agreement from Fred, Daphne, and Scooby as well. 

“Even so, you could easily have gotten everyone else in on this as part of some elaborate conspiracy or prank that I can only assume that I’m the target of!” 

“Velma, we’re not pranking you,” Daphne said.

“There is no conspiracy,” Said Vivi.

“Nope,” Lewis nodded.

“We’re really not,” Fred shrugged.

“It’s not a prank. That’s not Raggy, so it must be Mr. E.” Scooby said.

“Of course you would all deny it!” Velma shouted. As ridiculous as she was being, Ricky couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. She was so frustrated that everyone could see tears in the corners of her eyes. 

Ricky took a deep breath. “I understand that this is a difficult thing to definitively prove for you Velma,” he said, “But what we’ve been telling you is the truth. So. What can we say or do to make you believe it?” 

“Just- prove it . Prove that you’re really Mr. E!” 

“Very well. Ask me a question. Any question. Something Shaggy wouldn’t be able to guess or make up an answer to.”

Velma thought for a moment.

“Shaggy- ‘Mr. E’ , if that’s who you’re supposed to be - you keep saying that you regret your decisions. That you’re on our side now, and that you never should have left it. So answer me this: what changed? And don’t just give me the enslavement story, because there’s presently no way to prove that . Even if it were true, there would still have to be more to it than that. If you’re so remorseful, then why did you agree to partner up with Professor Pericles again in the first place, when you knew what he was really like and what he was willing to do?” 

Ricky knew he had to answer… but he really didn’t want to. “Um… wow. There are… a lot of layers to that question.” He finally got out, fidgeting. Ricky crossed his arms to stop himself from messing with his hands too much, and he felt himself involuntarily shrink a bit. Where should he even start with this one? “First off, everyone. I want to make it clear that I’m not making excuses. At least I’m not trying to. I’m… attempting to explain my behavior. It’s a long story, and this isn’t exactly a conversation I thought I would be having or a box I thought I would be opening today, so there are some things I might struggle to put into words and-” Ricky’s nervous rambling was cut off by a small body nuzzling against his calf. 

“There’s no pressure. It’s a very personal question,” Mystery looked up at him through gold spectacles. The dog gave him a nudge, then jumped back into the Mystery Skulls’ van and sat down on the edge, indicating for Ricky to sit beside him. “Just take your time.” 

Ricky followed Mystery and fell back to sit inside the open van. Then he took a few deep breaths, avoiding the expectant gazes of the others, and began. “I guess the first part of my explanation goes back to my youth, as cliche as that might sound. My family was close when I was young, but then my Mother got sick. Cancer. Stage three. And we all… drifted apart. She tried to be a good mom even while fighting for her life, but eventually she ended up in the hospital and never left. And my father was so hellbent on her that he ignored me. Even after she died when I was fourteen, I think… Either I reminded him too much of her, or maybe he felt guilty for not being there for me when she was still with us. But we were never close again. It was a lonely time for me, and that’s when I met Professor Pericles. I was eight, playing in my front yard, and he crash-landed right in front of me with a broken wing. I nursed him back to health, but when he got better he just… stayed. 

“I know your only frame of reference for imagining our relationship is by comparing us to Shaggy and Scooby, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. You two are mentally about the same age, so you’re such close friends that you’re practically brothers. But Pericles was decades older than me. Hell, he was older than my parents. And mine weren’t around. So Pericles practically raised me. He was my best friend and my surrogate parent all at once. Given such, he… knows me. I know it’s pathetic but… he’s- just-” 

“Manipulative.” Mystery growled helpfully. 

Ricky groaned and ran a hand over his face. “... Yes. Which… brings me to the next part of my explanation.” Ricky had to look away for a second, rubbing the back of his neck and anxiously tapping his heel as he searched for words. “I… I don’t do well on my own. Never have. As much of my life as I’ve spent pushing people away, the truth is I hate it. After my frien- after Brad, Judy, Cassidy, and I left Crystal Cove twenty years ago, we stayed together for… all of two days.”

Mystery Incorporated’s interest was immediately peaked. They had solved the mystery of their predecessors long ago, but they’d never heard a thing about what had happened after the original Mystery Inc. had disappeared.

“We drove for an entire day when we fled Crystal Cove, getting as far away as we could. Then we rented a cheap motel room and hid the Enigma Engine. At the time all of us were just- reeling. We’d just lost everything apart from the van, each other, and the clothes on our backs. We were angry, hurt, scared, confused, and none of us had any idea what our next steps were. Then when Cassidy and I woke up the next morning, Brad and Judy had ditched us. For the first few years, it was just Cassidy and I. Then… I guess life happened,” he sighed.

“We each had our own bullshit- okay, no. It was mostly me. Pericles’ betrayal… It really messed me up and affected all of my relationships going forward. And not in a good way. Because if he could betray me, then in my mind anyone could. And eventually, it pulled Cassidy and I apart. I had a few girlfriends after her, but I didn’t- couldn’t love any of them. Because truth be told, I never stopped loving her. I just- one of my biggest regrets is not making sure she knew that when I had the chance. Anyway, I tried to move on. To make other relationships work, but I was in love with someone else and so afraid of being betrayed or abandoned again that none of them went anywhere. So eventually I gave up, leaving the only relationships I had left work-related.

“After I founded Destroido, I had a string of PAs until Ed finally stuck. He was there through… some hard times for me. He was my employee, yes. But he was also a friend. And the only person apart from the original group whom I ever told my true identity. Eventually, I worked up the courage to move back to Crystal Cove and built my main facility here. Once I knew it was safe and my cover was good enough that the Freak wasn’t coming after me, I reached out to Cassidy. Then she moved here and we started working together again, so for a while I had her and Ed… and you kids, if I’m being honest with myself.” 

God, this was so humiliating to admit. Ricky ran a hand over his face. “Looking back, I regret not reaching out to you in person. I know this is going to sound stupid but…” 

Ricky thought back to the dark times he’d put himself through, before them. All the pills he’d had to take just to get out of bed in the morning, the constant temptation of the bottle, the eating, and the suicidal thoughts. Then one day, on the cameras he’d taken to monitoring in lieu of going out and actually interacting with people, he’d seen them. Fred, Daphne, Velma, Shaggy, and Scooby. And they had looked so much like- that for just a moment, it was like he was a meddling kid, again. For a while after that, he observed. Updated and upgraded his cameras, and had more installed. He saw mystery unfolding in the town below, and he watched with glee and pride as his successors solved them one by one. Until one day, the temptation became too much. 

And ‘Mr. E’ sent Mystery Incorporated his first clue.

Within a month, he didn’t need the pills anymore. 

“Helping you kids with those early mysteries was one of the greatest honors and pleasures of my life,” he admitted solemnly. “I won’t go into it, but I was in a very dark place back then. And if I hadn’t worked up the courage to start sending you those clues… I might have never gotten out of it.”

He looked up at them at last. Mystery Incorporated looked very taken aback. Even Velma, in all her skepticism, looked… honored? And the Mystery Skulls, just as Arthur had, looked as though they understood. 

“Anyway,” he cleared his throat, “You all know how it was. At least for a while. Then… I ruined it. I think it started when you found your first piece of the planispheric disk. And I started to think about that damn treasure, again. But I think the nail in the coffin started when Pericles got out. I was so angry and also so terrified when he escaped. It brought back so much that I’d finally managed to lock away, and I couldn’t force it back in the box. From that moment on, it wasn’t about you and your mysteries, anymore. You were pieces on the table in my war against him. 

“Then everything really started to unravel after Ed was murdered. At the time, no one knew who’d done it. I only realized recently that it was Pericles. Even that far back, he was trying to get me isolated and desperate, because he knew exactly how to get what he wanted from me. 

“And because I had abused the trust you kids had in me, you stopped trusting me too. Then not long after that, Cassidy and I had another falling out. Over you kids, actually. From the start, I had kept my distance. I thought it would be better that way. But Cassidy was never the coward I was. She met you, became your friend, and cared about you. And she wouldn’t have any part of it. So then, for a while after your gang split up, I had you and Marcie, Velma. Until… I didn’t. And it was my fault because I should have treated you better. Having the two of you agree to work with me was a privilege, and I abused it.” Ricky shook his head at his past self and scoffed, “Then I had the audacity to approach you, again-” 

Velma looked up sharply. “Say that again.” 

“I approached you again and asked for a partnership. With you, if not all of Mystery Inc. Outside the ice cream shop. Remember?”

“What’s he talking about, Velma?” Daphne asked. 

But Velma didn’t answer. She was looking at Shaggy- Mr. E with opened eyes. Oh my God. “No one- I never told the gang about that. No one knows except…  Jinkies! You’re not Shaggy!” She blurted out. 

“Told ya,” Vivi, Lewis, and Mystery said at once. 

Ricky looked up at the sky and put his hands together in a mock prayer, “Praise the heavens above, she finally gets it.” 

“Seriously, Velm? Out of everything he just said, that’s what convinces you?” Fred exclaimed. 

“Like, we’ve been trying to tell you that all day.” Shaggy laughed from Arthur’s body. 

“So y-you’re really- Mr. E!” Velma cried, “But you can’t be, and you have to be Shaggy, because body-swapping can not happen ! There can’t be inter-dimensional beings or curses because magic isn’t- can’t be real! But it is, so it has to be, and that doesn’t make sense. I need it to make sense!” 

Velma started to hyperventilate. “Everything I know is wrong! Science is useless! So I’M useless! My life is a lie-” 

“Velma! Velma! Velma, sweetie! Calm down!” Vivi said, placing a hand on her counterpart’s shoulder. “You’re not wrong or useless and neither is science- oh crap. How did Arthur always put it?”

“What are the three primary colors?” Mystery asked, hopping down from his seat next to Ricky to lean against Velma. 

“Colors?” Velma cried, hysterical. “The universe is falling apart, and you two want to talk about colors ?” 

“I can assure you, the universe is not falling apart.” The little dog chuckled. “It is exactly as it has always been. Now, humor us. What are the three primary colors?” 

“Well, that depends.” Velma said, straightening her glasses from where they’d gone askew on her face. “Light or pigment?”

Mystery laughed, eyes twinkling behind his spectacles. “Both. More artistic people would reply red, blue, and yellow. The sciency sort would say red, blue, and green. Mix all pigments together, you get black. Mix all light together, you get white. They are different, sometimes even opposite. And yet both are valid.”

“What’s your point?” Velma sniffed. 

“That magic is real;” said Mystery, sounding every bit his true age at that moment. “It’s a part of this world, and always has been. It’s older than you and I, older than the curse on this town, older than the beast behind it or the others of its creed. And it will continue to exist until long after the Andromeda galaxy collides with our Milky Way in about three or four billion years. It doesn’t follow any rules you know, but that’s not to say it isn’t lawless. Just as math is different from art, yet at times intertwined with it, similar is the relationship between magic and science. Its existence does not negate the science and logic you know. It just means that the way the two coexist isn’t fully understood, yet.” 

Velma looked pensive for a moment, before the shame became apparent on her face. “You must all think I’m such an idiot,” she said, “The rest of you knew almost immediately that you two weren’t who you appeared to be. Oh, Shaggy. I’m so sorry!” She exclaimed, rushing over to give Shaggy a hug. 

“Like it’s alright, Velma. You didn’t know.” 

“That’s no excuse! You were so scared, and you needed your friends more than ever. And I wasn’t there when you needed me! And you!” She stormed over to Ricky and grabbed him by Shaggy’s green shirt. “I know you’re denying involvement and I heard about the Sitting Room with everyone else, but if I find out you had anything to do with this, they’ll never find your body, Ricky Owens!” 

“As you should.” Ricky said defensively, nodding profusely. 

Velma let him go, and he fell back on his butt in the van. “Still,” she said, hands on her hips. “For the record, if Professor Pericles really has weaponized cobra venom, and if he really is using it to hurt you as you said… then I’m sorry. Even after everything that’s happened between us, and everything you’ve done… you don’t deserve that.” 

Now it was Ricky’s turn to be taken aback. 

“Now, assuming the latter is the truth,” Velma said, “what can we do to help Arthur?” 

“Like, he has a plan,” Shaggy said. “Mostly, he wants us to leave it to him. But there are a couple things he asked for specifically.” 

“The first and most important thing he said he wanted was…” Ricky made a face. “He wouldn’t tell us exactly what it is, but he said you guys would know. He needs to borrow a couple of… ‘deadbeats?’ From Lewis? Does that mean anything to you?” 

Vivi and Mystery both turned to look at Lewis. “Yes,” he cleared his throat, “we’re all quite familiar with what a Dead Beat is.” 

“Well, what is it?” Asked Daphne. 

“One of the ‘secrets’ Arthur mentioned,” Lewis explained, folding his hands behind his back, “and not a conversation to be had here. Just know that I’ve got it covered.” 

And indeed, at that very moment, so discreetly that none save Vivi and Mystery noticed, three orbs, aglow with pink light, appeared in Lewis’ hand behind his back. 

“You know, you guys are still withholding a lot considering that you swore to be more upfront from now on.” Velma said cynically. Behind Lewis’ back, the three Dead Beats bounded from his palm and raced down the hillside, bound for Destroido to fulfill their Master’s silent order, swerving to and fro like serpents rushing through blackened underbrush. 

“The secret we’re keeping is… a big one. I don’t know what to say other than that,” said Vivi. One of the Dead Beats paused and looked back, causing the one behind it to bump into it. 

“It’s a cryptic answer, but that’s about right,” Mystery shrugged. “What we’re hiding is huge, hard to believe, and connects to a lot of other things. It is, in essence, the true nature of the Mystery Skulls.” 

The two Dead Beats stopped momentarily to fuss at each other, before the third reappeared from the front and roared quietly at the two of them, pointing ahead with a nubby arm. Then the three were winding down the hill towards the toxic fortress once again. 

“It’s a lot to unpack.”

“Whole other box of worms.”

“This is not the time nor the place.” 

“You’re just gonna have to trust us.” 

“Back to Arthur. Did he have any other directions?” 

“He said he wanted to talk to Lewis directly about the final stage of his plan. But like, I don’t know how you’re supposed to do that.” 

“Like, he also said he wanted us to keep an eye out for Hot Dog Water,” Shaggy said.

“Marcie?” Velma perked up. 

Mr. E nodded. “Marcie’s only still working with- ‘me’ and the others because she’s being blackmailed. She works with me, she stays out of jail- I know, I know! Don’t look at me like that! The point is, that this works in our- or rather, Arthur’s favor right now, because she’ll be trustworthy and willing to betray Pericles at the drop of a hat. It’s not like she hasn’t done it before.”

The three dead beats were cautious to not be seen as they approached Destroido. They swerved under and between cars as they crossed the parking lot. 

“Of course! Hot Dog Water can help him from the inside!” Fred said. 

“And knowing how much she has in common with Velma, she’ll probably want to confirm the body-swap for herself. Which will send her looking for us,” said Ricky, pointing between himself and Shaggy. 

“And like, if he has more instructions for us, then he’ll probably send them through her,” Shaggy added.

“Apart from that, he just wanted us to stay together.” 

At the bottom of the hill, the Dead Beats came around the side of the building and split up, searching in serpentine patterns for a way in where they could avoid being seen. 

“Like, don’t forget the other thing. He seemed pretty insistent about it.”

 Ricky sighed, “He also said that I should talk to Lewis and Mystery… about some things.” Ricky said nervously. 

Mystery tilted his head. “About what?” Mystery asked.

At the bottom of the hill, one of the dead beats found an air vent. Too small for any human, covered in stainless steel mesh too strong and fine for any device. But not too fine for the Dead Beats - manifestations of energy with no solid body to keep out by such mortal means. With a howl, the tiny creature called for the others. 

“Nothing important. Personal matters.” Ricky said quickly. He cleared his throat. “We shouldn’t stay here any longer. We’ve been here way too long as it is. The longer we stay, the higher the chances that Destroido detects we’re here. And if that happens, it could put Arthur in a very precarious position. Which is saying something, because his position is already precarious enough.” 

Lewis tensed anxiously. “He’s right Lew,” Vivi said soothingly, hooking her arm with his. “I hate to leave Arthur like this just as much as you, but trusting him is probably the best thing we can do for him.” 

Down below, the three Dead Beats, one after another, passed through the mesh as easily as air, slipped into the vent, and entered the dark labyrinth to look for Arthur. 

Lewis released a long breath. “You’re right. Let’s just- get everyone back to the mansion. We have plenty of rooms, and it’s well-protected and hidden from Destroido’s sight. Is that alright with you all?” 

“You guys are staying at a mansion?” Fred exclaimed, surprised. 

“Correction: we have a mansion. Or rather, Lewis does,” Mystery corrected. 

“Here in Crystal Cove?” Daphne asked. 

“Yep. And we’ll lead you there,” Lewis said. “Just follow us. Same seating arrangements as before.”

“When we get there, we’ll scour our tomes for any information that may be useful. And the materials we took from the Burlington Library - we still haven’t had time to look through all of those. And Velma, it would be helpful if you could check your mother’s collection. As well as the Crystal Cove Library and the library at Darrow University. It’s a longshot, but you never know. And I think I’ll contact our network to see if they know anything. And to give them a heads up about Nibiru.” 

“Your network?” Scooby asked with a tilt of his head. 

“We’re far from the only supernaturally inclined people in the world,” Vivi said excitedly. “Over the years we’ve collected contacts of others with experience in the paranormal.” She counted off on her fingers, “The Addams Family in New Jersey, Sabrina in Greendale, Lydia and Bee- BJ in Peaceful Pines... There are a couple others. And they’re invaluable sources of information.” 

“And sometimes backup,” Lewis added. 

“Though,” said Mystery with a pinch of smugness, “we seldom need it.” 

“Then this evening,” Vivi said, “seeing as we will all be staying together until we see this through, we’ll have dinner. Which will be a real treat. Lewis’ food is amazing.” 

“Vivi…” the ghost blushed.

“Like, oh boy! If it’s half as good as breakfast was, then like, count me in!” Shaggy said, already starting to drool.

“Oh boy!” Scooby licked his lips.

“Then after dinner, we’ll come clean.” Mystery interrupted. “Given today’s revelations, I think it’s best that you all have a few hours to process and brace yourselves before a whole new bomb explodes in your faces.”

“There is however, something you all need to be made aware of before we arrive at the manor,” Lewis said sheepishly.

“What’s that?” Fred asked. 

The Mystery Skulls looked at each other.

“Well…” 

“It’s kinda-”

“Sorta-”

“A little-”

“ Extremely-”

“Haunted.”

At this point, ‘Zoinks’, ‘Jeepers’, and ‘Jinkies’ did not begin to cover it.

༻˚⁺･⚉｡○✼༓☾⦾♫෴♡💛♡෴♫⦾☽༓✼○｡⚉･⁺˚༺

Within the labyrinth that was Destroido Corp, Marcie Fleach sat in her room, stared at her computer, and tried to quell her rising panic.

Mr. E had sent her an email. Asking to meet with her in a very particular hallway. 

Not just any hallway. 

The hallway where, near the ceiling, there was concealed a small camera that Marcie had installed for Velma in secret some weeks ago. 

It was too specific to be a coincidence. 

But Mr. E couldn’t possibly know. How could he? She’d been so careful . She’d worn stealth tech while installing it! She’d literally been invisible. 

If he didn’t know, and it was a coincidence or a test, then Marcie’s only hope was to play dumb. 

But if he did know… then this was bad. Like, really bad. He’d given her so many chances, and she’d betrayed him so many times. And Pericles had been acting so much more deranged lately. If they found out she’d betrayed them again… they might just kill her this time.

But. 

Something was off. 

First of all, Mr. E had sent her an email. Usually, he called or sent someone to fetch her directly when he had an assignment for her or wanted to see her. 

Second of all, in said email, Mr. E just… did not sound like himself. Something about his wording was just way too… polite? Mr. E didn’t ask Marcie to do things. He gave orders. But this didn’t read like an order. More like an urgent request. 

Third of all… there was the link. At the bottom of the email, Mr. E left her a link. When she clicked on it, it took her to a video on a website called MysterySkullsBand.com. The Mystery Skulls were, according to the website, an indie pop/electronica band. And if she wasn’t mistaken, this was the group who had defeated Rude Boy not too far back. To her knowledge, they were still in Crystal Cove. Then when Marcie clicked on the video, it showed her one of their performances from about a year ago of a song called 555. 

It started with special effects. Thick pink, blue, and orange smoke that cleared to reveal the band’s members. The song began with a girl in blue on the electric guitar, and a young man in orange on the synthesizer. Then in the center of the group, the band’s vocalist, dressed in pink, began to sing. 

"Yeah. 

So please don't look into my eyes.

You might just see the other side.

There lie some secrets deep in mine.

Can't you pretend it's all okay?

"But I know it's not what you wanted.

And you just wrote this, fucking bought it.

It's like I haven't got a clue, and-

Yes, things just might be strange

Keep pretendin' it's okay!

"And my mind keeps on changin',

I've gone blind, I can't see it through!.

And my minds fully fadin',

And I know this might seem strange

Keep pretending it's okay!

"You're probably right to think I lied.

There's something 'bout it, but I tried.

And we can't pretend it's all okay.

What a nightmare love becomes,

When the way up fills your lungs, hoooh!

"And I'm tryin' to leave you, let you choose it.

Cause you were right, I'm a bit confusing!

I'm driving fast, heartbeat's improvin'.

But the way out's just the same,

Keep pretendin' it's okay!

"And my mind keeps on changin',

I've gone blind, I can't see it through!

And my minds fully fadin',

And I know this might seem strange

Keep pretending it's okay!"

Mr. E liked puzzles, she supposed. But after watching the video multiple times, Marcie… still had no idea what the point of it was. He said nothing about the link in the email (except the obvious - “PS: Watch this”), leaving the video and website itself as her only clue. 

It was too deliberate to be random. She knew he was trying to tell her something, but didn’t know what. Was he planning to use the Mystery Skulls, somehow? Or was he suspicious of them? Or was there some sort of message in the lyrics or notes of the specific song he’d made her listen to? Because from the look of it, 555 was far from one of the group’s most popular songs. If he’d wanted to give her an idea about the group and their music in general, it would have made more sense if he’d made her watch one of their more popular songs, like Magic, Freaking Out, Money, or The Future. 

The possibility prompted Marcie to listen to the song another couple of times. 

She couldn’t discern anything from the notes. But then again, Mr. E was far more musical than she was. So maybe he’d taken something from it that she just couldn’t see. Which left her the title and lyrics. 

555 was known as an angel number among the religiously minded. But Mr. E wasn’t religious (that she was aware of), and she was pretty sure it wasn’t relevant.

On to the lyrics. Was it a request to pretend everything was normal? “Yes, things just might be strange. Keep pretendin' it's okay!” Was a memorable line from the chorus that was repeated multiple times throughout the song. And there were similar lines in the other verses, too. If that was the case, then was there something going on she wasn’t aware of? 

She couldn’t tell. 

There were countless other lines in the lyrics that could also be a message. She checked the email and the song for some kind of cipher, but couldn’t discern one. And Mr. E knew her capabilities. He wouldn’t send her a cipher she couldn’t solve in an hour if that was the amount of time he gave to meet her. Which meant there probably wasn’t one.

One thing was for sure, it was very unlike Mr. E. 

It was weird. 

Too weird. 

Weird enough that it prompted Marcie to trace the email back to its original sender just to make sure that it actually came from Mr. E. 

Sure enough. It was sent from Mr. E’s account. Right from his personal computer at Destroido. The question was: did Mr. E, himself send it? Or could Pericles, one of Fred’s parents, or someone else have hacked his account?

Marcie couldn’t find out without hacking into Destroido’s security cameras and checking the footage that aligned with the timestamp of the message. But that, she didn’t dare do. They didn’t trust a hair on her head as it was. If they caught her hacking their security… 

Unfortunately, all that left for Marcie to do was as the email asked. She had watched the video. Several times. Next, she still had about an hour to kill before she had to meet Mr. E, but in the meantime she had to wonder: what was Mr. E trying to tell her with that link. And if Mr. E didn’t send that email… then who did?

It took me forever to find a song that fit for this chapter, but then I listened to 555 for the first time and just sat back SHOOKETH. It's as if it was WRITTEN for the express purpose of being Arthur's hidden message to Marcie for this fic. Most of the song's lyrics fit with the context! I could literally make a whole post about it. (And maybe when I have the time to, I will!) And it's sadly true that 555 is extremely underrated. But I for one think you ought to give it a listen if you haven't heard it before, because it is a BANGER. - Or maybe it just tickles my neurodivergent brain just the right way. I can never tell. Lmao

Chapters One through Ten of 'One of Us' are presently posted on Archive of Our Own

[garland-on-thy-brow]

The Death of Caesar (La morte di Cesare) - Gaetano Sertor 1788, translated by me.

Previous scene.

ACT II.

SCENE 8.

Brutus, Cassius, Porcia, Albinus, and the conspirators alone.

Cassius. All of that guilty party has dispersed: we are alone. Friends, Brutus, did you hear? What would we now? What more is there to wait for?

Porcia. Could he express his wicked goals more clearly?

Albinus. The thirst for reign is what consumes his heart.

Brutus. While Brutus lives, Rome shall not have a king.

Cassius. Oh yes, it shall, should Julius not bleed. Of Fathers, the majority's already corrupted, and those very marks of kingship he failed to wring, just now, from the people, he will have from the Senate.

Porcia. In an instant, He changes government and ruins Rome.

Brutus. So it is meet that first we pierce his heart.

Porcia. Beloved husband, by these words I know you.

Cassius. Unvanquished soul, come to my embrace. We could expect no less from your great virtue.

Brutus. Let us, then, prevent Julius in the Senate, and crush him there, where he would crush us. Albinus, hurry, warn all our friends.

Albinus. I fly at your behest.

Brutus. I shall fulfil the Citizen's duty. Pompey and Cato - they will be avenged; but how much I sacrifice to Rome! How much her peace must cost me! Oh gods, what grievous, what terrible duty!

Porcia. What? Could you hesitate?

Cassius. Could it be wav'ring cowardice?

Brutus. No, 'tis internal frenzy, tumult, and horror. Our country wills that Julius die; he must die; and yet thinking of his great merit, shamed to reflect upon his favours, seeing him at once Father and foe, magnanimous and scoundrel, tyrant as well as hero - oh, I shake with wrath and pity, loathing and love. No, I do not deny it: his great heart had the power to seduce me. I admired him even in crime, and if ever a man could reign in Rome, him alone, him I should've forgiven for it.

Cassius. Are you so pained to set your country free?

Porcia. And who shall bleed? A tyrant.

Brutus. Ah, this hateful name alone overtakes all, and awakens all of my rage. To Rome, and each of you, my faith is pledged. Shuddering, I embrace a cruel virtue. But I want to make one last attempt, to see whether I can soften his heart - to save the State and him. Should I accomplish nothing, strike then - yes, strike, I shall avert my eyes but put to use my arm.

Cassius. The time is scarce: our friends are under threat; so are ourselves, if the plot be discovered.

Brutus. So let us not stall… Let us go… I would… I am beside myself… Cruel! He would at last reduce me to this step. I did not think my virtue ought to come to this!

Porcia. Oh heaven, why do you shudder?

Cassius. And what means this weeping?

Brutus. (aria) Yes, I weep: but do not fear. I am with you, I am true: but I cannot hide from you - ah! - the suff'ring of my heart. Friend and tyrant at my soul rend, o heaven, with double ire. Ah, what moment cruel and dire, gods, you want to make my part!

[Link to the original, via Corago.]

[chicken-fifi]

Super Junior Reaction - Their Wedding Day

Requested by anon: Super juniors wedding day Imagine

Leeteuk:

Jeongsoo would be very emotional

It’s something that he didn’t really think would happening

Being able to feel the happiness and love he felt and was receiving from someone else was a lot

He’d found someone who understood him without him needing to explain himself and no words could explain how much it meant to him

He’s a wreck and he knows it

But he can’t wait to start this next chapter with you

“I’ve only ever dreamed of this day and now that dream is a reality. A reality I hope to never wake up from.”

Heechul:

My first instinct would be to say Heechul would be confident and well prepared

NO

He too is quite the wreck

One of the guys had already lost the trousers to the matching suits they were supposed to wear

Luckily those were found and that mess was resolved

But that only made him even more nervous until he was at the end of the isle watching you walk towards him

At that moment everything around him vanished and you were the only thing in his line of sight

“This is going to go terribly and it’s going to be ruined and - you found the pants!”

Yesung:

Jonghoon is also quite emotional the entire time leading to the actual ceremony

He’d managed to hold back his tears in front of everyone thus far and was thinking he might make it through the day without crying

He doesn’t

His although he’s emotional it doesn’t stop him from beating Eunhyuk with his slipper in the hotel room

Nor does it stop him from cursing at his friends slightly during the ceremony

But he’s truly happy and everyone can see that

“Mock me one more time and you’ll have a slipper bruise in all of my wedding photos.”

Shindong:

Donghee might be cracking a few jokes to try and ease his nervousness

It’s not that he’s getting cold feet but a wedding is a big deal

And there is so much room for something to happen or not happen

Did Donghae remember to bring the rings with him when he left his house? (He’d gotten custom wedding bands and they were to be a surprise until the time arrived)

Did everyone have what they needed to have? 

Were there any problems with getting things ready?

He didn’t want this day to be anything less than perfect

“You grabbed the rings right Donghae? Please tell me you grabbed the rings?”

Eunhyuk:

Hyukjae would be claiming he’s fine and cool as a cucumber the entire the time

But action speak louder than words

And the way his leg was bouncing up and down as he sat in chair and the constant wringing of his fingers was practically a novel

How could he not be nervous?

It wasn’t a bad nervous, he was ecstatic to finally be marrying you but he didn’t want to make a fool out of himself

Not today

“Are you sure my vows sound good? Not dramatic or excessive?”

Siwon:

Out of everyone, Siwon might the one who’s the closest to being calm and collected the entire time

He has good faith that everything will turn out right and that there’s no use in fretting over anything

He makes the best out of the time he has with the boys while getting ready

Reminiscing about their rookie days and at some point telling them about the moment he knew he wanted to marry you for the thousandth time

It’s during the ceremony that his cool facade breaks

His face says everything when you come through the chapel doors

And it is priceless

“You look incredible.”

Donghae:

Donghae would a sobbing mess the entire time

From being emotion because he was finally realizing a dream he’s had since who knows when to missing people that he wished were alive for this chapter of his life

It’s an emotion time

But at the same time he’s so excited and happy

If anyone is filming the moment he sees you for the first time as you’re walking down the isle and posts it on the internet it will 100% be going viral because he instantly lights up and breaks down at the same time

It’s Leeteuk who ends up rubbing his back and squeezing his shoulders to help him get a grip

“I’ve dreamed of this day for so long and now it’s coming true :’)”

Ryeowook:

Also a slightly nervous wreck

Ryeowook might be playing it off by being frank and upfront like he usually is

But everyone can tell that he’s worried something will go wrong

What if you’re having second thoughts?

Although that couldn’t be possible since you snuck out to see him the night before despite the superstitious stuff surrounding the act

All of the nervous would wash away the moment he see you though

And he knows everything will be perfect

“What if (y/n) gets cold feet?”

Kyuhyun:

If you think for one minute that Kyuhyun is going to let it be known that he’s got some nerves creeping in, you’re wrong

He’s acting a cool as can be, but Leeteuk and Heechul see through it instantly and give him some comfort

Leeteuk in specific tell his youngest member that he had nothing to worry about

You’ve been with him and put up with his crazy antics and friend for so long that you’ve practically become one of them

It’d ease his mind and he’d be very grateful because now he can rest easy a little bit

“Thanks Hyung. it means the world.”

[ladivamagnifica]

Purging Flames

@goldentalent Faculty Mission Board Prompt: Oddly, the mages notice that Reason magic has been on the fritz lately. Even the most experienced sages find it difficult to control their magic, never mind the practicing novices that keep burning themselves and injuring others. A late-night attempt to study for a Reason exam quickly gets out of hand and sends a classroom up in flames. The Knights of Seiros and other members of the monastery’s facilities must rush in quickly in order to contain the fire and save lives. [Grants Reason +1]

The sky was a sickly amber as she beheld the chaos below- a brief moment of respite on this night of madness- and not for the first time this evening- nay, not for the first time this bleak season- did Manuela wonder if the Goddess was intent on punishing them all for some unknown transgression: the winter months were always miserable up here in the mountains, but this time it had been made so much worse with the loss of their mounts during last month’s snowstorm and the recent fiasco involving bootleg emblem rings, each new disaster straining their faith and resolve. Oh, there was no doubt they would survive it all, but even the most devout amongst them were growing tired… and the great blaze which consumed the classrooms below was doing precious little to raise morale.

The scent of smoke had awoken her rudely, followed by the hurried and frantic cries for her assistance from the knights beyond her chamber door. Three hours later and the stink of blood, medicine and fire had yet to leave her, even after she had sent the last of the current influx of casualties away healed and bandaged. Fourteen students, eight knights… Seven of those children would sadly be scarred for life, burned in the mind and soul, but thus far they should all be thankful that the fire had taken no lives as of yet…

Manuela looked down at the young lady who occupied the bed she stood nearest to, wrapped nearly head to toe in bandages; her hair singed and her breathing only just returning to a faint and steady rhythm. Sweet and pitiful Goldmary had been the first to discover the fire and those trapped within the classrooms, valiantly leaping into action to save her fellow classmates but in turn being trapped underneath a fallen beam; had not the knights been alerted so soon after Goldmary decided to play heroine, there might have been a real tragedy on their hands that even Manuela could not fix… She clicked her tongue, this one was certainly meant for the Golden Deer House, that was for sure! As reckless and over the top as the rest of that rambunctious lot- and that was coming from a former diva!

Outside the fire was finally burning itself out, kept under control by the knights who had formed a line passing water buckets from the well, and despite the growing darkness, it was clear that the poor Blue Lions and the Black Eagles were going to be bereft of their classrooms until at least the end of the month; the poor things involved had claimed that one of her fellow instructors (if she found out their name she was going to have their head) had mistakenly given them the impression that despite Reason magic being inexplicably temperamental and uncontrollable- and Lady Rhea expressly banning its use unless absolutely necessary during the last faculty meeting- there was going to still be a test at the end of the month on the subject. Of course the more studious and conscientious amongst them had been sent into a panic and planned for a late-evening study session, eventually becoming a cross-house meet-up in the Black Eagle classroom. Who started the fire, she did not know- nor did she care to find out, because as far as Manuela was concerned, once she was done reminding Miss Goldmary the value of her young and beautiful life, she was going to wring the neck of the foolish instructor who had been so careless with their words and caused all of this. Aaaand, if that person was Hanneman of all people, she was going to scream and be on trial for murder by morning’s first light!

Really, now that the panic and anxiety of dealing with so many patients at once had settled down, the exhaustion was giving way to a second wind borne from righteous fury and fuelled by the need to let it out on someone. Fools! The lot of them, so concerned about others that they merrily threw themselves into danger and created more and more work for herself and the kind volunteers of the infirmary. Poor Mercedes would need to be excused from classes in the morning because she had been dragged along to help heal so many wounded.

A small groan coming from the cracked lips of Goldmary drew Manuela away from the window, eyes snapping towards her in an instant with worry, but her shoulders relaxed as it merely seemed the poor girl was beginning to wake up from the medicine-induced sleep she had been under. No doubt she was in a lot of pain, but Manuela had done all she could to numb the burns and bend the broken bones in her legs; time would heal the rest, but there would be scarring on the backs of her thighs where she had been pinned- easily hidden, but a reminder of her folly for all eternity.

“Oh, so you’re finally awake, hm? How are we feeling?”

[officebubble]

Presage of the end

Summary: The journey of a soldier made anew, riddled with the guilt of his past and on a steady path to redemption.

Warnings: Violence, injury, mild language, more warnings as the series progresses.

Word count: 2.7k

a/n: I decided to post this chapter today, along with earlier's because this one is pretty short. The next chapter is a long one however, and someone long awaited is making an appearance. Thank you for the support!

//

Chapter eight

Wakanda

Bucky was scheduled to come see you today, and you had to admit that you were glad to finally be seeing him after a little while. He couldn’t visit you all the time because he was obviously still in his own healing process, but he took the time to come and talk to you every now and then, which you appreciated.

His visits usually consisted of you asking questions and him answering as best he could, but it had helped a lot during your time in Wakanda, put your mind at ease, no matter how briefly. You had come to find some comfort in him, there was this quiet bond between the two of you due to your similar experiences, he understood you on a much deeper level than anyone else, and on those troubled nights where the day was just a little too hard, he was a shoulder you could lean on.

“How was today?”, he questioned softly

You took a moment to best formulate your words, eyebrows furrowing in concentration, “It was… foreign.”

“Foreign?”

“Yeah… I saw so much that I just, didn’t know or remember.”

Bucky took a seat next to you on your bed, nodding softly, “How did you feel?”

You sighed, wringing your hands together on your lap, “Lost…like I didn’t know whose memories I was looking at, whose mind I was in.”

“I remember that feeling, like you’re looking through someone else’s mind.”, he continues at your small nod, “It’s okay to feel that way, you weren’t truly present for a lot of those memories so you can’t be expected to remember them.”

“I just can’t help but feel like I was there, like a part of me knew what I was doing and did nothing to stop it.”

“You can’t think like that. Hydra they… they were a disease in your mind, a disease that eliminated any rational thinking. If you had been in control, I know you wouldn’t have done those things.”

“You can’t know that.”

“Okay, maybe I can’t, but from what I’ve seen… you’re trying Y/N, and that’s something no one can take away from you.”

You lowered your head it his words, you didn’t know if you fully believed them. It didn’t matter what part of you Hydra controlled, all those things you did, the people you hurt. It was still you. Some part of you.

“Do you regret it?”

Bucky’s voice broke you out of your thoughts, and you turned to him with a frown, “What?”

“Do you regret it? Everything they made you do?”

“Of course, all the time.”

Bucky only smiled which confused you even further, “Someone who had the intention of hurting all those people, the ability to kill and not feel even an ounce of remorse, they wouldn’t be burdened by their guilt as you are.”

It amazed you how he always knew the right thing to say but you suppose it’s because he had been told the same thing when he was in your position. He always had a new perspective for you to look at, a different angle on the situation.

A grateful smile crept onto your lips, and you took a deep inhale, running your hands tiredly over your face.

“Thanks, Bucky.”

He hums, turning away for a moment and you sense that he has something else to say, “What is it?”

He clears his throat, looking your way, almost like he’s contemplating something, “I’m not supposed be telling you this but… Steve’s been thinking about flying you to the tower.”

You pause at his words, frowning as you take them in. Why would Steve do that? The last time you were there, you fought half of his team, “Why?”

Bucky raises his shoulders uncertainty, “I don’t know, I think he wants to give you another chance with the team. He had mentioned having enough faith in you to not hurt anybody but I’m not sure if he’ll go through with it.”

You but the inside of your cheek, avoiding his gaze when you asked, “What do you think?”

“About letting you go back?”

You nod.

Bucky inhales deeply, tilting his head slightly, “Uh, I think it would be a good opportunity for some trust building but…”

You sigh at his pause, anticipating his next words, “You can say it, I don’t mind.”

Bucky smiles sympathetically, “I just don’t think that you’re ready for that. You’re still impulsive and unpredictable. I just don’t want you guys to get off on the wrong hand.”

You chuckle humourlessly, rubbing your temples, “We already did.”

Bucky hums, moving to stand up, “Well, whatever he does, I’ll be there to support you. No matter what.”

You hum in agreement, forcing a small smile and it seems to satisfy him, “Don’t think too much about it, Steve knows what he’s doing.”

You sure hope he did, it wasn’t that you necessarily thought that you were still a threat to them, but you still weren’t… normal. You acted impulsively and your mood could switch at any moment, these people had helped you and you didn’t want to hurt them again but more importantly, you didn’t want to let Steve down. You couldn’t, he had put so much faith in you, put so much on the line for you and it’d only prove them right if you were to go down there and cause any trouble.

//

“Sir, the prototype was successful, there’s a few manufactural issues but I’ve got my men working on it.”

“Good, we’ll try Stark again tonight, so have it done by then. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

Brock watched as the agent took off somewhere, a grin pulling onto his lips at the prospect of his master plan coming into action, once the prototype was complete, he’d launch his operation. His mind swam with thoughts of what they could do with a vibranium army, he’d be unstoppable.

Looking around for any agents in his close vicinity, he crept back into one of the backrooms of the warehouse, pulling a key from his pocket and unlocking the rusty metal door. Stepping inside, he locked the door, flicking the lights on and admiring the metal bot in front of him.

He had been collecting information from the newest blueprints and had taken a slight detour, building his own machine, just larger, and he had a lot planned for his new creation. Sleek metal standing 7 foot tall, glimmering in the dim lights, it was perfect, all for a few crucial puzzle pieces, but he’d obtain them soon enough.

He stepped forward, running his hands along the robot with a dark grin, “Together, we will rule the world.”

Together. He didn’t need anybody else.

A few hours later

“Such useless things.”, Brock groans as he kicks an agents body out of his way, the agents that once littered the warehouse were just going to hold him back, so he killed them, his plan was going exceedingly well, he didn’t need them.

Walking out into the open warehouse and breathing in a deep breath of air, he chuckled to himself, “This is going to be fun.” He walks over to the generator, flicking the switch and watching as all the machines whir to life, unfinished bot circling around on the conveyer belts, parts and wires being attached as they move throughout the warehouse. He walks over to one of them, running his hands across the chest plate and titling his head at the hydra logo. Reaching into his back pocket and lifting his hand, he digs his pocketknife into it, carving a large ‘U’ in the middle and shrugging, “That’ll have to do.”

He hums a tune as he walks over to the computer, pausing when he finds what he’s looking for and looking back at the clanging machines in thought. He had a plan already forming in his head, he’d stay on the down low, continue making his bots, and then he’d initiate the next part of his plan.

//

Avengers tower, New York

Music played at an unbearable volume in the room as Tony examined all the holograms he had pulled up, nodding his head along to the song.

“Sir, your efforts are futile, my system has been restored.”

Tony shook his head at Jarvis’ words, placing his hand on his chin in thought, “My efforts are not futile, Jarvis, my efforts are for you. I need to know what happened the other night when you glitched the hell out.”

Tony was growing increasingly frustrated; he might have been completely inebriated the night it happened, but he wanted to know who had messed with his system. Although they didn’t manage to get through, it would still take a lot of advanced tech and time to get as far as they did, and he wasn’t going to sit around and do nothing about it.

“While I appreciate your dedication, sir, I believe you should just, how do you say it? ‘Drop it’.”

“What- I’m not dropping anything Jarvis, I spent years developing you, making your firewall unbreakable and the fact that someone almost broke it,” Tony shakes his head, resuming his task, “You’re telling me that there’s no way of you knowing who it was? Where it came from?”

“I’m afraid not, sir.”

Tony groaned, slamming his fists down on the table, “This doesn’t make any sense.”

“Just give it up.”

Tony frowned at Jarvis’ words, standing up straight, “Jarvis, what’s up with you?”

“I do not know, sir. It appears my system is malfunctioning- malfunctioning- malfunctioning.”

Tony takes a step back at the change in Jarvis’ voice, it’s much deeper now, completely unfamiliar to Tony. He quickly calls for Steve on his phone, watching as the screens in front of him glitch uncontrollably.

“What happened?”, Steve asks, rushing into the room.

Tony points at his screens, holding his finger to his mouth to get Steve to listen to Jarvis’ repeating sentences. Steve frowns, moving closer to the screens and watching them in confusion, the question on the tip of his tongue dies as he hears Jarvis speak again.

“Stark, what a pleasant su-su-surprise.”, the voice laughs, making Tony swivel his head around the room looking for any potential intruders.

“What do you want?”

“What do I want? Well, it’s not that simple, Stark. I have been given a golden opportunity to right the wrongs of the world, and there is so much that I want, but it all starts with… you.”

Tony looks to Steve with panicked eyes and Steve speaks back to the voice, “Tell us who you are.”

“I am not a person, Captain, neither am I confined to the frail, useless body of a human. I am everywhere imaginable, all at once. I cannot tell you who I am, where’s the fun in that?." The voice sighs, "You Avengers are so oblivious, so content with believing that you had reached the end, but this is only the beginning.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Hydra, you familiar with them?”

Steve narrows his eyes, shaking his head, “Hydra? We stopped them- “

“It’s like a cancer, Captain. You abolish one part, and it just grows back elsewhere, stronger. Did you really think you could get rid of them?”

By this time, Natasha, Sam, and Clint had heard the commotion and made their way into the room, sharing puzzled glances. Jarvis had been taken over, that much was clear, but they didn’t know by what.

“Them? You’re not with hydra?”, Natasha questions.

“God no, they’re too inferior for my liking. I am on my own mission to success, and my plan is commencing perfectly.”

The team don’t really know what to do at this point, Tony had already tried to get Jarvis back through his computer but the AI had just shut him out. “As nice as it was talking to you, I have some business to attend to. I look forward to seeing you again, Avengers.”

Silence. The voice had seemingly disappeared and all that was left was a quiet room full of shocked Avengers. Steve turned away, pulling his phone out of his pocket to call Maria, and Tony slumped into his chair, leaning his head on his hand with a heavy sigh. Around 30 minutes went by until Maria was storming into the room, demanding answers on what had happened, but the team had no answers to give her.

//

Shield HQ

“Maria, get your ass back over here, now.”

“I’m dealing with something right now- “

“Well leave, and make your way here, I won’t ask again.”, Fury shook his head as he ended the call, pacing up and down his office, his day was going terribly. First, he gets news of an unknown being breaking into Tony’s system, and now he’s just been informed that two of his men have been found slaughtered in their quarters. His patience was running thin, and he needed answers.

“What the hell even happened?”, Maria exasperated, speed walking into the room.

“Hell, if I know, two idiots were found dead in their rooms this morning and apparently nobody knows how or why.”

“Were there any signs of intrusion?”

“No, their rooms were spotless, all for them of course.”, Fury leans his hands on his desk, titling his body forward and groaning quietly.

“Anything on the bodies? Any leads to who could have done it?”

“Nothing except for the name ‘Ultron’ carved out into their skin.”

Maria frowns, crossing her arms, “Ultron? What is that?”

Fury reaches into one of his desk drawers, pulling out a bottle of pills and putting two in his mouth, “It’s beyond me.”, as he swallows the pills, he sits down in his chair and clears his throat. “Get the Avengers on it, I don’t have time to be dealing with this, sweep the building as well, I don’t need anyone else dead today.”

Maria nods, pulling her phone out as she leaves the room, calling Steve and telling him of their latest findings, he sighs tiredly on the other end and she knows he’s struggling under the weight of it all, but she trusts that he’ll know what to do.

She has an uneasy feeling in her stomach, too much has happened in such a short period of time and she can’t help but feel that it’s only going to get worse.

//

Avengers tower, meeting room

The team had been deliberating all afternoon, trying to find the best approach to their current predicament but so far, they had come up with nothing. They were trying to find any links between the murder of those two soldiers and whatever had taken over Jarvis, Steve had considered Maria’s information about the name carved into the soldiers’ skin but he hadn’t gotten a name from the mysterious AI so he couldn’t come to any conclusions.

“It isn’t a coincidence that both these things happened on the same day, there has to be something that we’re missing.”, Sam comments, looking around at his team with a desperate gaze, he was just as eager to get to the bottom of this. The team only slumped in their chairs, not having an answer for him, they were all feeling pretty dejected, and they feared that things would escalate to a degree they couldn’t handle.

“There isn’t much we can do until he shows himself.”

“What do we do in the meantime?”

“What we always do, we shouldn’t let this take up all of our time, there’s still other threats out there, people who need help.”, Steve concludes, receiving affirmative nods from his team members, and as they all filed out of the room, he tried to organise his thoughts. There wasn’t anything else he could do other than keep close contact with Maria and Fury, and if any threats were to arise, AI related or not, he’d be ready. He had no idea what they were up against, but he was sure, as a team, they’d abolish whatever was posing a threat on their lives and make it out in one piece.

//

Sokovia

“Do you think they are ready?”

Strucker watched the boy and girl in front of him, a smirk developing on his lips, “Not yet, but soon… very soon.”  

To the left, a brown-haired boy ran manic in his cell, his enhanced speed causing him to shake uncontrollably and crash into his cell walls, a trail of blue mist following his every move. To the right, a brown-haired girl sat on her knees, petite hands gliding through the air. Her nimble fingers curled, manipulating the red tendrils weaving through them, a few wooden blocks floating in the air, encapsulated by the same crimson magic. With a flick of her wrists, the blocks hit the wall, her eyes glowing a fascinating scarlet.

[thenookienostradamus]

Ohhh my god the hand-wringing about canon vs. TRoP is just driving me crazy. Recent puzzling take: "People who haven't read the books will think that's Galadriel's real story!"

And? So fucking what? If they do, then upon reading further they'll either: 1) be disappointed that she doesn't have a spine-tingling almost-romance with the big baddie, or 2) discover other rich nuances of her canon characterization and be intrigued. How many little girls do you think watched PJ's Hobbit movies and then went on to read the book only to find 'Tauriel' is a figment, Kíli gets no doomed love (only doom), and the book, in fact, offers close to nothing in the way of female presence?

Alternately, people who watched TRoP may never read the books. I want the stuffy canon defenders to tell me exactly how that fact affects them personally. And I need them to know that I am not a newcomer to the legendarium making this judgment. My parents read The Hobbit and LOTR to my sister and me as bedtime stories before either of us could read. For the record, I learned to read forty years ago.

The more I encounter Tolkien fans who take issue specifically with the show's departure from canon or another petty complaint, the less I truly believe that's the underlying reason. I challenge anyone nattering about Amazon's capitalist abuses to say they've never ordered anything from the site or watched another Prime show. Go ahead, I'll wait. And while there are legitimate reasons to criticize the show's pacing or dialogue or costumes or whatever, I think those complaints are superficial too.

This is probably an extremely controversial take, but I'm starting to think rants about the ethics of the production or the multiple OCs (the best part of the show IMHO), etc. etc. are a smokescreen for deep-down opinions. These "fans" cling suuuper hard to the "faithful" cinematic adaptations (spoiler: Jackson's films are not canon-faithful and it can be argued that the second trilogy was as blatant a money-grab as TRoP is) because they experienced those at a formative time and consider them "definitive" not for their canon compliance but because of: 1) early emotional attachment to the visual representation, 2) not having lived or been canon-aware in a time when you still had to imagine what Middle Earth looked like, and...

3) getting attached back when they could still picture Elves, Dwarves, and Hobbits as white people.