#you are committing actual murder now!!!!!!!!!

[shadow4-1]

Would you be interested in writing another part for dark Johnny where Ghost finds out he has been fucking his wife? Would he be angry or be neutral as long as it’s helping Johnny?

Yes, I think I might actually make a part 2 to that post!

I'm currently making a post detailing my headcanons on Soap's behavior/brain chemistry post-bullet. Certain regions of the brain are responsible for a lot and It'd like to delve into exactly how that'd change Soap (for the better/worse).

I don't know how a part 2 would go yet, but if you really think about it, this would be one of the most fucked up things to happen to Ghost. It's on par with being buried alive and having his whole family murdered. I mean, think about it.

Ghost's best friend is shot in the head but his wife is able to save his life. She then commits herself to his non-stop care because Ghost asked her too. Then, when he comes home from a months long mission, he finds his now terribly twisted friend fucking his not entirely consenting wife on their bed.

How is he supposed to feel? Hurt? Betrayed? Angry? Ghost could kill him, probably really wants to, but Johnny doesn't care about consequences anymore. Johnny's just happy to finally have the two people he loves the most back in his life together.

And as his wife what do you even say? There's a part of you that wanted no part in sleeping with Johnny, but another part who let him take whatever he wanted because he needed it. And the worst part is...it felt good. How could you ever explain that to Ghost?

[heyftinally]

Y'all are going to like this one.

SWIFTIES DON'T TOUCH THIS POST WITH A TEN FOOT POLE, I SWEAR TO FUCKING HELL-

So my friend sent me this article, and I'm going to tell you why I think it's complete bullshit.

1) wishing us a happy Pride month is the BARE MINIMUM. As someone with her presence in the media and social influence, she could - and should - be doing SO much more than just wishing us a happy pride four days in.

2) "the singer has been an advocate for the LGBTQ+ community" not a good one. She seems to only remember us when it's convenient or benefits her in some way. Case in point:

2018 - "When it comes to feelings and when it comes to love and searching for someone to spend your whole life with. It's all just really really delicate. You know?" Taylor then performed her song "Delicate."

2023 - It’s painful for everyone, every ally, every loved one, every person in these communities.

In the first example, the intentional song reference comes off as extremely tacky. This is people's LIVES you're talking about. People are MURDERED for who they are and who they love (or don't love). This isn't an appropriate time to pull out the "oh-so-quirky" act and be cutesy.

In the second, the fact that she can't even center queer people in their own experience is so, SO telling. I promise, however painful it is for allies, it's 1000x worse for us to LIVE it. Allies don't have to wonder "am I going to get hate crimed wearing this?" before they leave the house - we frequently do. To not acknowledge that shows me that everything she says is performative at best.

3) I wouldn't call what she does "advocacy". She mentions us every now and then when it's convenient for her, profits off of us when we fit her marketing plan, and I've yet to find where she actually apologized for the homophobia in the original version of Picture to Burn. Also, she's real good friends with Travis Kelce's dad, who is a raging transphobe (and I bet his kids are, too). You don't get to call yourself an ally if you willingly allow the people around you to be violent bigots.

4) "always" is a strong word for someone who seems to show her support situationally at best. The full quote was "The way for that to happen is for us to continue to keep pushing governments to put protections in place for members of the LGBTQ community. And I promise to always advocate for that." Yet she doesn't do that.

5) what she speaks out, I've noticed that it's nearly always in the states that primarily agree with her. We don't see a whole lot of her "inspiring ally" speeches in places like Texas or Florida. But I've seen plenty of them come out of already notoriously queer-friendly places. If you aren't willing to face the heat of the difficult places along with the comfort of the easy ones, you don't get to call yourself an ally. Allyship is not easy. Anyone remember when Lady Gaga advocated for us in Russia, under threat of arrest, and her response was "arrest me, Russia! I don't give a fuck!"? Yeah, I've never seen even half that level of true commitment from Taylor.

6) STOP. MAKING. STRAIGHT GIRL SONGS. "GAY ANTHEMS"!!!! FFS it's such a slap in the fucking face of REAL, ACTUALLY QUEER ARTISTS that y'all keep calling these piss pathetic straight girl over produced crap songs "anthems". Fucking stop it. If they aren't queer, they don't qualify to be a queer anthem or icon. Start supporting ACTUAL queer artists with ⅛ this energy, for the love of FUCK. This bullshit pisses me off. Do you need a list of queer artists? I'll make you one by hand if you promise to stop trying to label Raylor Swift's straight girl shit songs as "gay anthems".

7) rainbows and gender subversion are not exclusively nor inherently queer. If that's our bar for "gay anthems", the bar is so low Lucifer himself needs a damn Webb Telescope to just barely see it from hell.

[suffersinfandom]

Heyo, @nidmightcookies! This is my response to your reply on Atticus' post over here -- I didn't want to take away from the message of that post or the additions from other POC.

Sidenote: I'm extremely white and have no credentials that make me qualified to talk about race (I'm just a person who reads and tries to listen), and my takes are probably going to show that. That's another reason I didn't want to clutter up the original post with my reply.

In response to this

“Why is it racist to depict Ed as uncontrollably violent?  Because he's not actually depicted that way in the show.”

you talk about Ed baiting the crew to murder him and committing other violent acts. The original point is stating that Ed is not depicted as uncontrollably violent in the show, not claiming that he perpetrated no violence full stop. Yes, Ed does violence. No, he is not uncontrollably violent.

What Ed does is purposeful, not uncontrollable. He doesn’t push Lucius off the ship after he gives up all hope because he’s a violent guy who just does stuff like that, and the mutiny situation in S2E2… as allthinky said in a response, “that’s Ed at the end of his rope,” not him being uncontrollably violent. He’d been working towards suicide ever since he started baiting Low. As a backup plan, he’s been working the crew hard, disregarding their well-being, and being an overall awful boss in an attempt to incite a mutiny. 

Yes, he was “a serious, immediate threat to his crew” by the time he was out of other ideas to make someone take him out. Ed commits acts of violence -- I don’t think I’ve seen anyone claim he doesn’t -- but he always does so with some amount of reason (not necessarily good reasons) and control. 

“Upon reflection, my biggest issue may be with the people who argue that Ed's never been shown to be violent, or that any time he has resorted to violence, he's absolved of blame by the fact that someone was mean to him first. Which... I don't think I've seen you make either of those arguments at any point in the past.”

I’m really glad that you mentioned that OP hadn’t made either of those arguments (that you know of), that was genuinely very cool. As for the rest of it, I don’t believe I’ve seen anyone say that Ed is “never shown to be violent” or that he can always be “absolved of the blame” unless you want to remove all of the nuance from common talking points. 

He is never shown to be more violent than the average pirate and, due to his deep-seated trauma relating to his own capacity for violence, he’s actually on the less violent end of the pirate spectrum. He can’t be absolved of all blame for his actions because he’s a grown man who makes his own choices (and saying otherwise robs him of his agency). What I’ve seen said is that Ed’s actions are informed by things like trauma, abuse, and racism. His actions make sense. They’re not spontaneous violence committed because Ed flies into rages and homicidal spirals out of the blue.

“Not saying we shouldn't consider it [that is, are we “assigning more weight to Ed's violent actions than those of other characters or assuming he's worse than he actually is”], but I mean. If a white character on the show had cut off his employee's toes and fed them to him, shot him in the leg, ordered his death, held a gun on his other subordinates, marooned some/tossed one overboard, threatened to drown the ones that remained... because he was pushed into it, with the same combination of abusive childhood/hostile work environment... would he be equally deserving of that consideration? Would it be an overreaction to call him dangerous?”

Probably, but if everything was the same except Ed Is White Now, his baggage and his relationship with Izzy wouldn’t be exactly the same. Ed's race isn’t inconsequential. We can't really remove race from the story and end up with the same character, y'know?

Also: I do think it’s inappropriate to turn this question back on POC. I don’t think that POC are obligated to reconsider biases against a white character.

“Izzy is crew”

Ed’s relationship to Izzy is not comparable to his relationship with the crew. The crew have done nothing wrong and haven’t behaved antagonistically towards Ed. Izzy and Ed have a complicated, toxic, and difficult relationship (regardless of where you stand on whether or not Izzy’s abusive), therefore any harm caused to Izzy has to be considered differently than harm caused to the rest of the crew.

“Even if we say that he doesn't count, Ed still pushed Lucius off the ship.”

Yes, Ed did do that, but I think that Atticus is talking about Ed’s S2 actions in that point, not what happened in S1. Most (I think all?) meta I’ve read does consider Ed pushing Lucius off the ship an act of violence that Lucius himself did nothing to provoke. 

This might be controversial, but I’d put Ed pushing Lucius overboard on par with, like, a particularly unjust firing in a workplace that isn’t a pirate vessel. When we watch OFMD, we have to adjust our physical violence meters to account for the fact that we’re dealing with an environment that’s full of physical violence.

“Also, emotional abuse directed at the rest of the crew is still abuse”

I don't consider Ed emotionally abusive. He works the crew hard. He’s a terrible boss who doesn’t give his employees vacation days or paid time off and then throws them a sad pizza party. That sucks, it’s not okay, and his final death spiral in S2E2 is terrible and he never should have involved the crew in that. 

Abuse is a pattern of behavior that’s meant to control people. Not all harm is abuse. When I say that Ed isn't abusive, I'm not saying that he didn't hurt people.

“So... I was raised by a physically and psychologically abusive parent. I get that Ed's been hurt, is still hurting, and why. The "why" doesn't matter for the question of "did he or didn't he", though. It may or may not be his fault, he may or may not have done it because he felt unsafe. The point is, his actions did hurt people.”

Same, friend, and I'm sorry you went through that. (That’s actually one of the reasons I’ve always been wary of Izzy. What he says and does in S1 is too familiar to me, sometimes to a point where I can’t watch certain scenes.) I don’t think anyone’s saying that Ed isn’t hurting anyone, or that all of his actions can be attributed to abuse. If that’s not what you’re getting at here, apologies for misunderstanding.

“His boss that he was trying to control was brown.  Was that a factor in his power play though, or was it because Taika wound up being cast as Blackbeard? Any other (white) actor in the role, would Izzy be as bad for trying to control him? Would the scripts have gone a different way?”

Here’s the thing. In the show we have, Blackbeard is played by a Maori/Jewish man, and this fundamentally alters the character. There are things in the show -- whole episodes, if you want to look at S1E5 and the fancy party guests who treat Ed like exotic entertainment and not a peer -- that wouldn’t be the same if Ed was white. 

And yeah, Ed being brown changes the dynamic between Ed and Izzy. It would still be bad if a white guy was trying to control another white guy, but it wouldn’t be bad on the same level. Same goes if they were both brown. A white man trying to control the behavior of an indigenous man is worse.

“Izzy got permanently disfigured, crippled, and dead, while Ed came out largely unscathed in a physical sense, due to Muppet logic. Not to say one is more deserving than the other, but for a bunch of fans, there's probably a sense of Izzy getting the short end of the stick, to consider.”

That’s fine if some people feel like Izzy got the short end of the stick. It’s fine that some people feel like Izzy’s arc was kinder to him than it should have been. It’s okay to feel whatever! We connect emotionally to different characters and that biases our opinions and meta. That’s not a crime. We just need to be aware of our biases and why they exist.

The thing with OFMD is that Ed is a main character with more background and a story that, at every turn, asks you to sympathize with him. We’re given a look into Ed’s psyche. We understand at least some of his trauma and hurt and why he acts the way he does. Izzy has virtually no backstory and we’re never offered a glimpse into his mind; we don’t know why he’s like that. You can totally like a secondary character (or even an antagonist!) with no real canonical background or mental groundwork. It’s fun to ask why characters do what they do when canon doesn’t offer us any answers, and who doesn’t love a mystery box? 

But with OFMD, it can raise eyebrows when people say their main concern is the suffering of a white man who behaves antagonistically towards a brown man, especially when that brown character is a well-developed lead who also suffers (and suffers at the hands of aforementioned white character). It’s not inherently racist for someone to care more about Izzy than Ed, but it’s also not unreasonable to ask that someone to think about the possibility that subconscious racism could be factoring into their point of view.

“I don't think it's fair discussion to have a rule saying ‘even though you didn't directly call out the brown man, your argument is still racist’... even if it's true in many cases, it effectively means that no criticism of the character can ever be considered valid. If someone wants to argue ‘removing your employee's toes and feeding them to him is abusive behavior’, they can't, because of the unspoken skin colors involved? I don't know what the solution to this is.”

No one is saying that all criticism of a character of color is racist or invalid. As allthinky said in response, we’re saying that “those critiques have to be based on real evidence, and placed in a careful context, so that their actions can be understood as human, and not just the brutality of some brute.”

Criticize, but criticize with evidence and with awareness of the context of the criticized behavior. 

With the Izzy example, you have to consider the context of their relationship and Izzy’s actions throughout S1. Izzy isn’t just an employee: he’s a trusted second-in-command who has been insulting, controlling, and disloyal; he endangered not just Stede but also Ed and the rest of the crew; he told Ed that he was better off dead than acting as he was, and that Izzy's loyalty belongs to the violent worksona that Ed wants to shed. Is Ed being abusive when he’s reacting in response to abuse from his abuser? 

“[T]he show has layers (like an onion). Sometimes the meaning is not entirely surface-level, and everyone has a different level of comprehension. Sometimes obvious things to us aren't obvious to other fans/vice-versa. There's a whole 'nother discussion of media literacy to be had.”

I think that Atticus said it best here: “This is not a subtle show. That's not to say it's a simple one [...]. It's amazingly layered and emotional responses by characters are often extremely complex. However, when the show is trying to tell you something, it's not subtle and it never tries to hide it.”

There are a lot of things in OFMD that are subjective and open to interpretation, and those things are fun to discuss even when we have different takes. There are also a lot of things that are very clear. When people try to subvert the messages and ideas that OFMD is conveying loudly and openly, other fans get suspicious and wonder if the folks doing the subverting have an agenda, a bias, or just misunderstand what the show is saying.

I hope that reply was sufficient!

[coraniaid]

A random ask if you're up for it: what's a terrible take about the Buffyverse you've seen on tumblr but have not yet publicly kvetched about?

I'll be honest: this question prompted a moment of minor panic on my part because my very first instinct was to say something like "hmm, no, I don't think I've ever seen a bad take about Buffy on here I've not immediately complained about". Which is an admission that, were it accurate, should probably prompt rather more introspection on my part than I'd enjoy.

Thinking about it though, I don't think that is really true. In fact, I probably don't say anything negative about most of the bad Buffy takes I see, either because they're not particularly widespread (I try not to publicly disagree with other people's headcanons or even argue against popular posts if it would be obvious who I was responding to) or because they're about characters who I just don't talk about on here at all (either because I don't find them interesting or because my understanding of them is so at odds with the wider fandom's we'd be talking at cross-purposes).

(Or, sometimes, I don't say anything negative because I'm too busy enthusiastically reblogging the post in question, if we're being brutally honest about what counts as a "bad take".)

One concrete example I don't think falls under those headings and which I don't remember complaining about before is the way people talk about Buffy's speech in Selfless. Now, I'll be honest: I don't really like Selfless that much. It's in the top half of Season 7 episodes for me, possibly even the top third, but that's a pretty low bar. But what I do like a lot are Buffy/Faith parallels, and this episode has a big one in Buffy's speech towards the end of the episode:

At some point someone has to draw the line and that is always going to be me. You get down at me for cutting myself off, but in the end the Slayer is always cut off. There's no mystical guidebook; no all-knowing council. Human rules don't apply. There's only me. I am the law.

Obviously this reminds the audience of Faith's similar speeches in Season 3's Consequences, when she tells Buffy that the two of them are "better" than ordinary humans and then later that "you know I'm right. You know in your gut we don't need the law. We are the law."

We obviously aren't meant to agree with Faith in Consequences. (The fact that she follows this speech up by almost immediately defecting to work for the Mayor, commiting at least one cold-blooded murder, having a sobbing emotional breakdown where she begs somebody to kill her and then turning herself in to be judged and punished by the very human laws she sneered at earlier is something of a clue.)

A lot of people point out the parallel but then try to explain that what Buffy is saying is actually substantially different from Faith, and that Buffy is right while Faith was wrong. in Myth, Metaphor and Morality Mark Field (who I don't think is actually on Tumblr, technically, but who I'm referencing to avoid talking directly about the many people on Tumblr who agree with him) ties this in to the wider themes of Season 7, and describes the difference between Buffy and Faith as being that Faith is trying to avoid responsibility (for accidentally killing Allan Finch) while Buffy is taking responsibility (for doing what has to be done and killing Anyanka).

And yes, Buffy is doing something different to Faith here. She is not trying to say that she doesn't have to be accountable. She is not making excuses for her own mistakes or bad behaviour. She is trying to do (what she perceives as being) the right thing.

But Buffy is wrong as well. She is proved wrong within this episode. She doesn't have to kill Anya: in fact, she fails to kill Anya (indeed, given what we see of vengeance demons in The WIsh and in Older and Far Away I don't believe Buffy could possibly have killed Anya, but I know that vengeance demon lore is even less rigorous than vampire soul lore). The problem of Anya being a vengeance demon is resolved, not by Buffy, but by the people she was giving her speech to. The people who she was arguing didn't have a say.

Buffy is wrong, too, within the show's established lore. There is a mystical guidebook (even if her Watcher didn't have her read it), and there is a Council (even if they're far from all-knowing, Buffy could have been making use of their resources ever since she asserted her importance to them in Checkpoint, but she chose not to do this). And Buffy isn't alone. (At least Faith got the number of Slayers right in her speech!)

And Buffy is also wrong in terms of the wider season arc. Season 7 is not about Buffy saving the day by heroically taking all the world's burdens on to herself and making all the decisions. Her attempts to beat the First this way end disastrously; cutting herself off from her friends and her family and the very the Potentials she's trying to protect.

(Yes, the climatic scene in Empty Places is poorly written, but the season does very deliberately have Buffy fail to establish any sort of rapport or connection with the Potentials and spend less and less time with her friends. Buffy isn't blameless for those relationships falling apart, even if having her friends and sister kick her out of her own house is absurd.)

Instead of being the lone voice of judgment, Buffy beats the First and saves the world by not isolating herself. By working with her friends; by realizing they can do things she can't; by sharing her power with the Potentials (because "my power should be our power"); by reconnecting with Faith; by accepting help from Angel and from Spike; and by realizing that the people who "made up the rules" for Slaying thousands of years ago made a mistake.

The whole point of Chosen is that it is a refutation of the vision of being a Slayer that Buffy outlines in this episode.

Quoting it uncritically as if it sums up who Buffy is as a person is like, well, using Andrew's speech about "the Dark Slayer" to describe Faith. (Which ... oh, yeah, people also do.)

[hollyhomburg]

You know what i think is kinda cool????? i think it's cool that it's only women that actually commit all the onscreen murders in bily. it is- primarily a story of feminine rage and i didn't intentionally set out with that in mind but i will lean into it now <3

[smashlovesscream]

OKAY HELLOOOO FGFGGYFGERFEY

SO THIS ISNT 100% LIKE WHAT YOU SAID BUT ITS... SOMETHING THAT IVE BEEN WORKING ON FOR A FIC IDEA AND THIS IS WHAT I AHVE SO FAR [its genuinely formatted just like this in my docs as well BHSDHDHVH]

Interviewer: How would you describe the way you were feeling, during all the murders?

Billy Loomis: Which ones? The ones I actually committed? 

Interviewer: Yes.

Billy Loomis: I'd say it was ecstatic. Fueled by adrenaline and Endorphins. 

Interviewer: Is it true that you seemed to have manipulated Stuart Macher into being your accomplice?

Billy Loomis: No. Stu can't- couldn't be manipulated like that. He's actually the one who came up with a good bit of the plan. I'm just the main one who acted it out.

Interviewer: So it's true You And Stu were rather close?

Billy Loomis: Yes. We had been very close.

Interviewer: How close?

Billy Loomis: Randy and Tatum would often say that I was his closest friend, but really I was probably more like his wife, if anything.

Interviewer: Interesting choice of words, Mr. Loomis.

Billy Loomis: I have nothing to hide. You've already caught me. 

Interviewer: Right.. Now, can you tell me about your feelings of Stuarts death?

Billy Loomis: He'll surely be missed, even if it's only by me. Though, I'm sure his parents will want me dead. Assuming they're the ones who think I manipulated him.

Interviewer: They have strong opinions on your trial, yes.

Billy Loomis: Any more questions, Doctor?

Interviewer: Just two more. How would you feel if Stuart wasn't actually dead?

Billy Loomis: Relieved, maybe. I'd want him to be okay, even if it's not easy for him.

Interviewer: And, if he was alive, do you know where he'd go to hide?

Billy Loomis: I'm sorry Doctor, I don't carry that kind of information on hand.

Interviewer: You're aware that withholding such information on an ongoing investigation could ruin your trail, right?

Billy Loomis: Yes, I'm aware. But regardless of what the end may be, I want him far away from you people as possible. Which, unfortunately, means I'm utterly useless to you guys in finding him. Sorry to disappoint. 

"Nothing to hide" He says, as he hides something from them- HAHAH- okay anyways MREOW ENJOY

EXPLDISHSJSJSJPSODH

Explodes yes ye suebwysbeosbsoa

YES

YESSSSS BRO IT INSPIRED ME TO MAKE THIS SCENE NOW AHHHHHH… zndjsjaknGRRRR

[sunsblaze]

Moon, Tell me…

note: I wanted to write something short and angsty about how things could have gone differently if Yoriichi was actually made to commit Seppuku instead of being banished. word count: 419

content warning: mentions of seppuku (ritualistic suicide) no actual violence though.

This was it.

This day marked the end of Tsugikuni Yoriichi.

Can you feel my anguish?

The pattering of gentle rain against shingles was deafening in the somber silence of night as a small group wordlessly congregated in the grounds of the Ubuyashiki manor. No one dared speak a word, not even simple pleasantries were exchanged amongst the attendees of this unfortunate ritual.

Can you feel the end of my life drawing nearer?

Front and center knelt a man who could only be described in that moment as otherworldly. The white yukata he wore glowed in a heavenly display as the moonlight illuminated his figure. A blade lay mere inches in front of the man who encapsulated the sun, the means to his end.

Michikatsu?

Beside him stood, his kaishakunin- the man who was also by his side after his wife and unborn child were murdered. The man who was appointed to cut his suffering short, the one he trusted for the job, the one who was hesitant to accept the position. His friend.

Brother?

Did Michikatsu know the consequences his actions would have for his young twin brother? That Yoriichi would carry the sins and betrayal of his brother once he was gone, and his own life would be snuffed in recompense?

Are you satisfied now?

A constilation of dark spots began to paint the white linen that draped over his body as the heavy rain began to set in. Rivulets of shimmering water traced the terrain of his face, dripping down his chin, fiery raven hair sticking to his wet skin. Yoriichi didn’t mind, he found peace in the cool, rainy night, the feeling of the cold water on his skin kept him in the moment.

I heard twins had a special connection- almost as if they were extensions of one another.

With his face tilted up to the sky, gentle maroon eyes mirrored the pale moonlight. He drew in a deep breath before slowly releasing it, his fists balled in his lap.

This was it.

So I ask you again, brother.

Shrugging the damp fabric from shoulders, he never looked away from the moon, not even as a shaky hand reached for the blade that rested in front of his knees. His lips moved as he spoke in an almost inaudible voice, the rain blocking a sound from reaching the ears of those who were to witness his demise, though the words weren’t for them.

These words belonged to the moon.

“Do you feel my anguish?”

[lovesickeros]

☆ even the gods bleed [ pt 4 ]

{☆} characters arlecchino, furina, lyney {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, multi-chapter, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings blood {☆} word count 3.7k {☆} previous [ 1 ] [ 2 ] [ 3 ]

Fontaine was bathed in darkness, not even the moon daring to illuminate where the common man fears to walk. The streets were bleak and empty save for the constant, rhythmic ticking and clanking of machines marching on endlessly, dauntlessly wading where even the bravest dared not to venture. Not even the sharp click of the Gardes boots followed the occasional hisses of steam as they walked the barren streets.

It was haunting, and it'd been like that for days now. It showed little signs of stalling in the slightest, too. Every inch of Fontaine was practically crawling with Gardemeks– like a swarm of rats skittering about.

Arlecchino had secluded herself in the Hotel Bouffes d'ete for days at this point, waiting– biding her time. Her nails clicked against the wood as she tapped at the table in a stilted rhythm, the subtle click of the clock mixing into the clanking outside, weaving in and out of earshot as the patrols slipped by. She reached forward after a moment of thought, reaching for the white king.

She leaned back against the chaise, tilting her head just enough to catch a glimpse of a patrol of Gardemeks as they vanished behind the rows and rows of buildings. It wasn't enough to keep her attention for long, however, her features twisting in disinterest as she glanced back to the chessboard– and the letter neatly resting beside it. The seal was unmistakable and a sobering sight, demanding her attention– the soft hues of blue etched into the shape of a dragon stared back at her in a way that almost unsettled her.

She had already parsed through it's contents hundreds of times, but she was met with only vague, flowing script that only served to irritate her more then anything– it filled the page top to bottom yet managed to say nothing at all. Her hand reached out again, but instead of reaching for the letter she plucked the black rook from the board, setting it down with a soft click.

Arlecchino had all the time in the world to sit back and observe her prey, but all that time would be useless if she lacked the information to act.

And he was quite tight fisted about it, evidentially. None of her inquiries or attempts to decipher any potential codes in the letter left her empty handed. She could not act without even knowing the reason for his summons– it was almost worded like a personal affair rather then one would expect for a foreign diplomat. In truth, she'd expected a scalding report on her operatives, but it lacked any mention of anything of the sort.

She was no stranger to people masking hostility behind pretty words and compliments, not that it was ever unwarranted per se– the Fatui did not create connections through honesty and genuine kindness. They have strong armed more then their fair share of people into cooperation to the point distrust is all the Fatui are met with outside of Snezhnaya. Every word was meant to conceal the deceit, every action meant to conceal the price later paid.

So she had been..skeptical of the letter, to put it lightly. She doubted the Iudex of all people would offer a hand to the Fatui without a price attached– a trap, perhaps, meant to lure in the most powerful piece left on the board. Her eyes narrowed, reaching for a white rook and moving it to the right.

Or he was hiding something. Something that he simply couldn't risk getting out to anyone, not even the Divine themself. A tempting prize, whatever it was.

..A dangerous prize, too.

She'd considered burning the letter and forgetting it all together– the risk was great, and she couldn't risk getting caught up by whoever else the Iudex may have on his side of the board. But she could hardly pass up the challenge and the prize that he fought so hard to keep from prying eyes and ears. Even her agents came back empty handed each time. She lazily picked up a black rook, sliding the white pawn aside.

"Lyney," Arlecchino drawled, crossing one leg over the other and turning her gaze to the door as it slowly creaked open. The pale visage of Lyney stepped through, though his siblings were noticeably absent. The weariness that weighed down on his shoulders was apparent in the slightest furrow of his brows and the subtle creak of leather as he clenched his fists behind his back. "Father." He choked out, the title dragged out by the sharp inhale and shaky exhale.

He looked out of breath, she noted.

The silence that lingered after the small exchange was punctuated only by the click of another chess piece being moved. She sets aside the black rook, letting it sit among the dozen other pieces that had been wiped off the board. She can see the conviction glinting beneath the fog of exhaustion, but if he would utilize it was another matter all together.

He had seemed to make his choice quickly, at the very least.

"Our contacts and operatives within the Fortress of Meropide have gone silent– all we have is their final confirmed missive.." His voice is confident, but it is rigid as the words spill from his lips. He takes a sharp step forward, unfolding his arms from behind his back and opening his hands– the small, water stained and messily folded note catches her eye, plucking it from his palms with a half hearted interest. "They believe the Duke left the Fortress of Meropide..and that he may be coming to the Court of Fontaine."

Her eyes narrow dangerously, nearly crumpling the thin paper in her hands– yet just as quickly, she collects herself.

But she cannot get rid of the bitter taste on her tongue, lingering as she sets down the note and slides it to the side, her lips pursed into a thin line.

So the Iudex had shown one of his pieces..she tightly grasps a black rook, tipping over the white rook, letting it roll against the board.

If the Duke was involved, things were much more complicated then she expected– he would be a problem, she was certain. She couldn't blame the lamb for fearing the wolf, either. Whether her agents had been killed or captured by the man mattered little. He had his ways, and he was a force that could instill fear in even them.

Which meant the possibility that her operation was already compromised was far too real.

What had the Iudex so concerned he had gone through the trouble of bringing in the Duke and herself? The Fatui was one thing, but to specifically request one of it's Harbingers..

The Prophecy? The thought had her clenching her fist, but..no. If it were to rear it's head now, the Iudex could simply not afford to waste time on his contacts deciphering his nonsensical script– If the prophecy were to be the issue, there time would be limited to mere minutes in the worst of cases. Which meant it was worth biding his time in order to ensure absolute secrecy.

So if not the prophecy, then what?

Her next moves were..limited. She was already walking on eggshells considering her position and the reputations of the Fatui– especially with a Harbinger in the midst. If they caught wind of her operations, they'd weed out her operatives and be on guards for any snakes that lingered in their garden.

She reached for the chessboard again, picking up one of the white rooks from the board with a scowl. The sharp click as she sets down the white rook and sets aside the black pawn draws a shaky inhale from Lyney as she moves another black pawn, the dull click of the pieces drowning out the distant clinking of machines.

..A draw, perhaps.

The pieces were all falling into place– the players of this game were slowly being revealed. Whether she could secure her victory..she was unsure.

She wasn't even sure who her opponent was. Only that the Iudex himself was but another piece in their game.

Arlecchino reached for the board again, yet this time she hesitated. Perhaps she could still swipe the win from beneath them, if she played her cards right.

She would simply have to capture the king– or, if need be, let it end on a draw. Either way, she would not concede. She could not afford to concede. Down to the last piece, she would drag out this match until she was in a position to force their hand into the outcome she desired.

She stood slowly, picking up the king piece and observing it for only the briefest of moments before she set it down on the table, taking measured steps around the table and across the room. She was hunting a much more dangerous quarry today– it would be no simple runaway traitor this time.

"Do you remember the directive?" She inquired coldly, her hand lingering on the door for that long, tense moment. "..Yes, Father." Lyney faltered, taking a hesitant step back and bowing at the waist. "Then do not stray."

All that was left was the silence and click of the door shutting behind her as she disappeared down the hall, her boots clicking harshly against the floorboards. The rest of the agents knew better then to linger in her path as she stepped down into the lobby, adjusting the cuffs of her sleeves. She barely even acknowledged the Fatui agent standing at the ready by the heavyset doors, their gloves hands held out with her cloak held loosely in their palms. She quickly snagged it from them, tugging it over her board shoulders and clasping it around her throat.

With a quick tug, she brought the hood up over her head to conceal her sharp features, lifting her hand and placing a neatly folded note within their waiting hands. She had only one chance to make the right moves and secure her victory– no matter the cost.

Each piece had it's purpose.

Oft, that purpose was a bloody and horrible end– but for the grand goal of the Fatui built on the backs of the dead, it was an honor.

She didn't bother speaking a word as she dismissed them with a wave of her hand, pushing open the heavyset doors and stepping out into the barren, damp streets. The rhythmic clink and whir of Gardemeks was still distant– she needed to move. Her boots clicked and splashed in the rain soaked stone of the streets as she slithered between the buildings, ducking through the openings in the patrols.

It was almost too easy.

She tilted her head back, taking in the towering Palais Mermonia with a scowl, her hands clenched into fists. The final moves were being played– the king was within her reach, yet she felt no more confident then when she began.

The air carried a sense of unease, thick and heavy, filling her lungs until she felt her breath still in her chest– listening to the empty, bleak night that seemed so..quiet.

She'd done her fair share of research, had more then her fair share of her agents try to peer into the Iudex's office or the Archon's supposedly hidden chambers, but every attempt was a failure. She had to give them credit, they were quite elusive when they wished to be. Though now she only thought about it bitterly– this was all a risky gamble, in the end, and only time would tell if it paid off.

With minimal effort, she'd managed to pull herself to the flat, tiled roof, eyeing the massive tower peaking out of the center cautiously. At least here the wandering patrols down below weren't likely to notice her..she could hear them passing by the spot she'd been in only a few minutes ago, just beneath her. She pulled the hood further over her face, peering through the sheer darkness of the night for any oddities, but it was almost impossible to see in the dark.

Her boots clicked softly against the tiles as she approached the tower jutting out from the Palais, her hand gliding along the smooth stone, pressing against odd indents or crevices. If it was for the Archon's chambers, she doubted they made it very difficult– she'd only met the woman once, but she doubted the Iudex make it all that complex just from a brief glance. And it surprised her little when one of the stones sunk into the wall, gears whirring as the walls split open to reveal a stairwell straight into an inky black hall. Only the barest hint of light peaked under the door at the bottom, but it's occupants must have heard her, considering it went out not a moment later.

She cautiously stepped down into the small crevice, her breath visible in the bitter cold air– her shoulders tensed at the subtle sound of muffled footsteps behind the door, her vision flaring with a molten heat between her shoulder blades as she reached for the worn handle of the door. The heat of her vision was enough to just barely heat the metal, her vision flaring like a quickly building inferno.

Arlecchino was prepared for a fight, if it came down to it.

The door creaked as she pressed against it, shoving it open with a grunt of effort and surveying the room with narrowed eyes and a biting remark on the tip of her tongue– the lavish opulence was expected, she supposed, but the lack of the towering figure of the Iudex was not.

Yet before she could get a word in or even take in her surroundings properly, the light flickered back on and she had to squeeze her eyes shut with a hiss at the sudden brightness. She could hear the door being shoved closed behind her, the hurried footsteps retreating just as quickly as her eyes adjusted to the light.

..This was a joke, wasn't it? It had to be.

She'd expected the Iudex, perhaps even the Duke if she'd been unlucky, not the Hydro Archon. She had half the mind to test her worth as an Archon then and there, her temper flaring like an uncontrollable blaze, barely kept at bay. It took all her self control to force herself to smile politely at the woman rather then snarl.

"Miss Furina," She sneered beneath her hood, x shaped pupils locked onto the startled, trembling Archon with thinly veiled contempt. "What a..pleasant surprise. You'll have to forgive my manners, I assumed I was meeting with the Iudex." She observed her body language carefully– the way her eyes darted about like a frightened rabbit seeking escape, the slightest tremble of her lips..

Arlecchino opened her mouth to offer another scathing remark, but her jaw audibly clicked shut as her entire body seemed to lock up. Even her vision went cold against her back, a chilling feeling creeping up her spine as someone, or something, crept up behind her. Their footsteps were almost silent, the slight rustling of their clothes the only thing she could hear over her heart pounding against her ribcage.

Arlecchino had always prided herself on being on the other end of that sensation– she was the monster, and her target was the prey frozen like a deer between the hunters crosshair.

It was a chilling feeling to have the dynamic shifted on it's head.

She couldn't even swallow, her jaw clenched so hard she could hear it creak as she tried to reason with her quickly splintering mind– a futile effort, her joints locking up almost painfully. Black spots were quickly swallowing her vision from the lack of air in her lungs, the sound of shuffling behind her barely audible over the ringing in her ears.

For a moment – a moment too long to have only lasted the seconds that it did, yet so quick it gave her whiplash – she thought she would hit the floor dead before she could even glimpse her assailant.

And then it was gone. She came crashing back into reality with a startled inhale, her lungs burning and her knees nearly buckling under her. The instinct to lash out and kill whoever had done it was intense, yet she couldn't bring herself to move even a finger– it would be so easy to twist around and ignite them with searing flames, but her feet were rooted in place.

She almost didn't notice the surprisingly gentle hands unclasping her cloak, tugging it off her shoulders, if not for the sheer intensity of the presence still lingering behind her. Her mind was still fractured, struggling to right itself after the ordeal, and it had her seething.

"..Are you certain you held back enough?" Furina croaked, the normally soft lilt raspy and almost hoarse. "Not– not that I doubt your capability, most Divine!"

Arlecchino felt her nails dig harshly into her palms, heat swelling beneath her skin– Divine? Had she lost her mind? The Divine was..

The Divine was upon their throne where they belonged. She'd seen them!

"Hm. Well, maybe? Sorry, I didn't think it'd affect you too." Their voice was sickeningly soft as they stepped around her like she wasn't even there, focusing their attention on the Archon who seemed more then delighted about it. "What gave you that impression, most Divine? Aha, I..was completely unaffected, as you can see! Perfectly fine."

Furina let out a small squeak when they pinched her cheek, but the almost affectionate smile that tugged at their lips revealed the lack of malice behind the action.

"You're a bad liar, Furina. You might want to sit down..please?" They didn't take her protests for an answer, gently pushing her to sit on the bed before abruptly turning to face Arlecchino once more, a forced smile on their lips. "Oh, good, you're..uh, not dead. That's good. I thought I fried your brain. Sorry?"

..Had she hit her head on the way here? The Divine should still be on their throne, yet she couldn't shake the weight of their stare– it felt tangible. She felt like she was standing face to face with the stars– galaxies and constellations bearing down upon her.

She grit her teeth and clenched her hands until she felt the sting of her nails against her palms, grounding herself in the pain through the sheer overwhelming nature of their existence.

"You.." She croaks, reaching out with a shaky hand and grabbing them by the collar of their shirt, lifting them up until their feet left the floor– she pays no mind to the startled protests of the Archon. Arlecchino would crush her like a bug before she even got the chance to intervene and they both knew it. "You shouldn't exist– you aren't them, and yet you..you're the imposter, aren't you?" Her grip tightens yet they face her without an ounce of fear, meeting her unyielding glare with a pondering look.

Arlecchino wanted to make them bleed just to see if she could, the urge to sink her teeth into skin welling up in her chest to the point she visibly snarled, her mask of politeness long . "You're the imposter." Her expression falls for a moment before she schools it into one of apathy, setting them back down and holding them there for a moment, finally releasing them after a tense moment. "Or you were supposed to be."

Hers brows furrow– she wants to demand answers, to throttle them for damning them to being nothing more then dolls for the supposed Divine to break at their whim, but none of the words come to her.

"..Why now? The current Divine has been in power for years, yet you descend now?" Her shoulders tensed, lips pursed into a thin line– it's impossible to ignore the truth that lay before her. The Divine is a fraud and this..imposter is the true Divine. How many years had they been in power, now? How many years were they waiting? Why did they wait? Was the suffering of Teyvat not enough? Was the blood that painted the steps of their stolen throne not enough?

She'd personally been on the wrong end of the Divine's wrath– she wonders..had they watched? Had they seen the cruel hand of their imposter and turned their back on Teyvat?

"I.." They hesitated. It made her seethe, her hands clenching into fists at her sides– her vision flickered, flames swelling within it's casing just to be smothered by the presence of the Divine. But once that spark had been lit, she refused to let it go out. "I didn't know."

The answer does not satisfy her. There is an itch beneath her skin that she cannot scratch, a fire that burns in her chest so hot it scorches even herself.

"And what about now? Are you content to cower like prey in the safety of the Palais Mermonia?" She snapped, taking a step forward, her brows furrowed and her glare intense– she can see the slightest bit of worry in their eyes. She revels in it. "Will you let them use your acolytes like pawns? How many more need to be broken on the steps to your throne before you act?"

Again, her vision flares and dims– it refuses to be used against the Divine that created it.

"Have you no answer?"

The room is silent. They do not speak and neither does she.

Even the world itself seems to quiet in the face of her accusations, fury boiling to the surface so hot it incinerated all it touched.

"I will kill them myself."

Their words are quiet, but they are not soft– there is a vindictive, searing anger that explodes out like dying stars within their eyes. The sight of constellations replaced by a void that would not be . The smell of ichor grows stronger– to the point she feels almost lightheaded.

"..I am aware that I have failed in preventing this, but I had no choice in the matter. Still," They muse, their voice like the tolling of bells. A solemn melody that stills the swelling fury burning in her chest, if only for a moment. "I will rectify it– I will tear down their throne of lies and let not even the earth tarnish itself by burying their corpse among it's soil."

They pause for a moment, holding out their hand– scarred and bandaged by the weapons of the devout, yet still they take upon the burden of dirtying their hands to save those who did not save them.

"Do you trust me, Arlecchino?"

Did she?

"Will you help me?"

She exhales heavily, meeting the starry iris' of the Divine with a scowl still tugging at her lips. Arlecchino trusted no one but herself.

"..Yes."

[atopvisenyashill]

that “what if viserys ii was a girl” ask sits in my mind because i keep imagining aegon iii finally reaching the end of his regency, firing the entire council, telling munkin where he can shove his precedents, and officially naming rhaenyra as rhaenyra i targaryen, queen of the seven kingdoms, and himself as her successor, and putting viserys/visenya’s kids in the line of succession, then looking at the entire realm and going “overthrow me i double dog dare you” aksjdjd

[theotherrichardpapen]

AU where Josh manages to grab onto Nigel’s hand at the last moment that night on the train and both of them fall out. AU where Nigel has been dead the entire time but Alex Forbes doesn’t know that; where the trauma of watching his friend fall to his death combined with the realisation he was complicit in the death of another causes his mind to fracture.

He doesn’t remember making it back to his dorm room that night, only remembers waking up to the news that Josh and Nigel were was dead. All of Nigel’s things have been moved to another room, of course they have, because Nigel was gone, dead, all his fault, his fault trouble.

AU where Alex takes the train one night to the Colbie house because Nigel asks him to, because he feels this innate and intense need to try and better understand this boy he got killed; where he finds the card and the books and Nigel’s red bible, and begins to understand.

AU where the body of Susan turns up one morning, and the police question Alex about it, but there’s no way it was him, because he was late; he was late, and by the time he showed up at the cinema, she was waiting for him still, sweet Susan, with her kind eyes and kinder heart, she had waited for him and she didn’t even suspect anything until the very second before he struck gone.

AU where Alex finds the letter he wrote Nigel wrote, inviting him to his house that night, where Alex sees the Colbies arguing through the window; where he wrestles the gun from John and shoots him to kill him because he read the journals, knows that this man has been hurting Nigel his whole life and he wanted him dead protect Nigel.

AU where Nigel confronts Alex at the train yard that night, where he forces Alex to remember everything he did, everything Alex did; where he forces Alex to pull the trigger and kill off the version of Nigel he’s been carrying around in his mind, where Alex dies that night right along with him and Jack is born instead.

[pagesofkenna]

i wanted to make a post about a thing but the more i think about it the more i want to say and it's just going to end up being a big ramble essay, so instead i'll just give the thesis statement, thusly:

as the #1 Ratgrinders Apologist (self-appointed), of course they're the final boss fight to the death. i expected nothing less and the people trying to make discourse about it are ignoring the entire context of this being a Dungeons and Dragons game

[variousqueerthings]

three just karate aikido-dropped three security guards and honestly id like to see some other doctors get into a fist fight occasionally, i wonder how they'd do

[categoricalglitches]

This is so funny "Thomas" "Zane" even looks bigger than Alan just. By silhouette? Because of the hair. It's significantly more voluminous lmao

[sparklecryptid]

Because I'm in the mood for angst at the moment - well, I suppose I should preface this by saying that I generally like Regis? It's just - sometimes, it's just *so satisfying* to /blast/ the occasional character. (Usually those in some position of authority.) So - remember the Regis-Kills-Ace-Before-Ace-Is-Implausibly-Resurrected scenario? Imagine if that happened in All The Bastards (1/2)

(2/2) None of the Bastards will ever forget this. Or ever trust Regis

-

It takes a second for Ardor to realize what has happened. In the second it takes him to realize that there is a hole where Ace’s presence in his magic once sat like a gathering storm Jules eyes have widened to saucers behind her thick glasses.

“No,” she says and it’s desperate and pleading and she looks at Ardor for assurance when Ardor has none. He’s frozen and curling his magic inward to look for any sign that Ace is still there. Any sign that his brother is being cruel and not dead. “No. No! Where did Ace go? Ardor - Ardor please where is he? Why can’t I feel him anymore? What happened to our brother?”

Her voice break at the end and Ardor can do nothing but catch her as she throws herself into his arms and sobs.

-

Persephone is cleaning. It’s her day off and she has plans with her husband and Ace and Nyx for dinner. She thinks that she’ll make something rice and some sort of meat and sauce. As for vegetables - perhaps some sort of tomato? Or maybe corn.

She decides on corn eventually and is in the process of pulling the cobs out of the fridge when death latches onto the bond she has with her siblings and she spares a moment to panic before the chill leaves. For a moment she thinks it was a fluke but then she realizes she can’t feel Ace anymore. All of her siblings are alive. She can feel their magic thrumming through her bonds like a live wire. Her siblings are fine.

All of them are fine except Ace. Ace’s magic has vanished and Persephone swallows the lump in her throat. She puts the corn down on her counter and reaches for her phone.

He doesn’t answer.

Persephone’s can feel the rage in her welling to uncomfortable levels. Ace is hers. Her brother. Her brother. Hers.

He doesn’t get to die without them. He doesn’t get to die when she can prevent it.

Persephone calls Ardyn.

He doesn’t answer either.

-

Thanatos is fine.

He is fine.

His little brother could be dead - could because unless there is a corpse in front of him Thanatos is not going to believe Ace let something as stupid as death take him - Ace could be dead and Thanatos knows that he should do something. He knows that he is shaking and that his eyes are glowing and maybe studying forbidden magic was a bad idea because the ground beneath his feet cracks open.

He usually has more control than that. But his brother could be dead.

His brother could be dead.

Thanatos lets out a hysterical laugh and blindly reaches his magic out for Ace’s. If Ace is alive Thanatos will find him. If Ace is dead Thanatos won’t find anything.

Thanatos doesn’t find anything.

He reaches out again, latching onto Ardyn’s magic and Thanatos makes a truly stupid decision. Without a beacon, without anything to guide him but his Uncle’s magic Thanatos forces himself into a warp and finds himself in Regis’ throne room.

“Hey,” Thanatos says as he stumbles in between Regis and Ardyn, “Where the fuck is my brother?”

-

Mercury and Jupiter are in Niflheim when Ace’s magic fades.

An MT helmet is crushed in Jupiter’s grip.

“Hey,” Jupiter says, “Can you find out where Uncle is?”

Mercury is frozen in spot. Stilled for once as too many scenarios run through her mind that she hadn’t ever needed to think about before. Ace was never supposed to die.

“Hey!” Jupiter drops the helm and stalks toward her sister. She grabs Mercury’s face in her hands. “We aren’t gonna find out anything if you freeze up! Where the fuck is Niflheims Chancellor?”

Mercury pushes Jupiter away and pulls out a cellphone.

“Give me a minute.”

-

Bard pause. She thanks her audience and stands up. She packs her instrument away and calmly makes her way to an alleyway. A quick soundproofing spell ensures she won’t be overheard.

She takes a breath.

She screams at the top of her lungs. What happened to her brother? Why can’t she feel him? What happened to her brother?

She doesn’t know. She opens the group chat to find everyone freaking out but neither Thanatos or Ardyn are online.

Neither is Ace.

Bard takes another breath.

Her brother has to be fine.

He has to be.

[fruityfroggy]

Wow, my body really hates me today

That bleach be looking mighty tasty rn

[steelthroat]

Me and "editing videos even tho I don't know how to do it but it's for the greater good" are back together.