#and we have LITERALLY only scratched the SURFACE of Plot. there is So Much Left to tell. so much.

[scattered-winter]

Hey, have you ever considered incorporating some some characters from Defenders of the Universe or Voltron Force?

Like Lotor’s fiancé, Merla, from DotU, and the villains Maahox, Kala, and Sky Marshal Wade from VF could all serve as interesting antagonists, be they one off threats or over arching villains.

And the Voltron Cadets from VF, and the pilots of Vehicle Voltron from DotU could serve to help fill out the ranks of the Galaxy Garrison or have other uses.

And I hope I’m not overwhelming with all this stuff, I just love your VLD rewrite and I think you’re a really cool person.

I haven't really thought about it much, just because I haven't seen any of the earlier versions and so honestly I have no idea whats going on over there and it's never been a priority for me to watch them (that might change ?? eventually ??? don't hold ur breath tho my To Watch list is 3 miles long) AND the plot for the rewrite is already really complicated and there are so many characters and subplots and moving parts that I don't think I want to like. add in More characters and subplots and moving parts unless I need to, ykw? that being SAID I do think it might be fun to maybe use the names for like. one-off random background characters!! they're not gonna be like. important to the plot really but idk maybe it'd be cool reusing some of the names from other versions. who can say

#idk if i can really express how Out Of Control this rewrite has gotten .... #like. ive posted 3 (4?? ive lost count) chapters and the fic is already over twice as long as anything ive ever written in my LIFE. #and we have LITERALLY only scratched the SURFACE of Plot. there is So Much Left to tell. so much. #i have so many thoughts and ideas and scenes and character arcs rattling around in my brain. #the planning doc is sooooo fucking long and tbh ive only actually written down a fraction of the thoughts im having #SO yeah its. a monster. and id like to try and keep it fairly manageable if i can <3 #UR NOT OVERWHELMING ME I LOOOOOOVE GETTING THESE <3333333333 #literally soooo happy y'all are liking the rewrite so far. im only just warming up just wait till we get to the REAL plot <33333333 #xpegasusuniverse #quintenary stars series

[tranquilspot]

John: Read Colonel Sassacre's text.

Long post ahead! TW/CW: unabashed sexism, misogyny, racism, call to murder as a 'joke', aged like milk content

Block of text n°2. Get ready to get the old timey dictionary, cause I sure will do a loooot of research.

Before reading the text itself, let's analyze the picture. There's Mark Twain (Colonel Sassacre in this universe) in the middle with a silly magician hat on top and an engraved sun. On his left and right, surprisingly two versions of The Fool arcana.

The Fool represents new beginnings, freedom, innocence, a free spirit. Pretty accurate for John. There's also several clowns: entertainment, playfulness, tricks, but also mockery, illusion, humiliation. I'm saying this because it's relevant. We'll see it much later, during different points in the story. On the bottom, two masks, both smiling. One a demon, perhaps the Devil itself. Which is also a major arcana: obsession, dependency, powerlessness, limitations when it's upright. In reversed it's independence, revelation, reclaiming power, reclaiming control. Very interesting. Let's keep it in mind for later. I have no idea for the other mask, it would be easier if I knew the origin of the 'borrowed' pictures that constitutes this montage. At last, two writing tools that could represent freedom of speech, creation and imagination. The word colonel was added on one of them.

Welp, that's enough dilly dallying on the image, let's dig right into the text now. *grumble mumble I have to manually write it grumble mumble*

Hell's bells, we are having a mighty sporting time of it!

"Hell's bells" is to express anger, surprise or irritation. I'll bet it's surprise here. let's see the rest of the sentence. I haven't find a direct explanation for 'sporting time' but I suppose it means 'dynamic good moment'?

Hold fast, my intrepid fellow pranksmiths! We've merely nicked the mahogany of our japing chests.

Pranksmiths is such a cool term :D So if I understood correctly, this means: "Hold on my fellow pranksters! We've barely scratch the surface."

If I may direct the incisive ogle of your beagle puss to the wriggling regency of rubber bugs […]

Wait wait wait so many new words here!

A sharp eye, okay, of our joke glasses (the one with the funny nose and mustache), and hey! First time seeing 'wriggling', that's mostly used in troll culture. Sassacre was married to the baroness, not sure how much he knew about trolls but I don't think the use of 'wriggling' is a coincidence here. Betty Crocker was already mentioned too. There's miiight be a small chance that this peculiar plot element existed early in the story. 'Regency' is to govern, hmm 'wriggling regency of rubber bugs'. See it's not trivial! Bugs, insects that govern. Sneaky early foreshadowing~

[…] plastic parasite, squirming serpents, pliable pests […]

:0 I know it's common repulsive animals, but look closely. We have bugs, immediately followed by parasite (opinion on his wife perhaps?), followed by a snake (Lord English), and 'pests' are aften rodents. Not sure where does the last one fall in the metaphor. Reading too much into it? Maybe, maybe not.

[…] and every such order and phyla of creepy crawlies!

I'm curious to see what 'order' means in this context. Perhaps 'and such things'? Also phyla! Hello brand new word. Oooh I see, like two branches of the same group of things. Junction! And creepy crawlies! I literally on the picture but i forgor. It's self explanatory, crawling little bugs. This confirm, or at least solidify, my theory on Colonel Sassacre's book to be a parody, autobiographic, but now hinting at what we are to expect from this comic, in terms of plot points and characters (trolls, a tyran parasitic sovereign, snake species..)

Land sakes alive, we are cooking with petrol now!

'Goddamn, now we're talking!' We're half-way through the introduction, of the book I mean! Can't wait to reach the end of Act 1, which is only a part of the 'tutorial'.

In further exhibits we shall dwell on artifice useful to your exploits.

Alright, not very complicated to understand.

Is your pappy's rod and reel handy?

What? *long search* Oooohhh like a fishing rod and thread. I thought that was an innuendo *sweat* I mean it isn't above Hussie to not do it. 'Handy' here means in your hand, or near it.

What about a bit of iron cord; it shouldn't prove elusive.

Are we talking about cord made of iron, or the cord of a iron, the appliance? If it isn't rare to find it I'd say the latter.

Bring those writhing rascals to life, […]

Uuuuuuuhhhhh..

and set the nerves of some old maid to the wreck of Hesperus!

Okay what the fuck old man!! Not only it is misogynist but you take delight in scaring to death a poor woman that didn't ask for it? Bring them to life.. what the heck does that entails? Wait it's rubber bugs and such, so you're not electro-stimuling them, how does cord + rubber work? Whatever, what's more interesting is the mention of another entity, Hesperus. One we never hear about either in the story nor the community itself. It's a titan, embodying the evening. Right between Hemera, the day, and Nyx, the night.

However here it is not about the god itself, but rather a poem, the Wreck of Hesperus. It's the short story of a skipper who board a ship with his daughter and didn't listen the warning about a hurricane. Long story short, the ship crashes and sink, dude dies and the corpse of the girl is found still mangled to the remains of the ship. That's horrifying. What the fuck, it went from 'let's have a jolly time with plastic toys' to 'what if we made scream a maid like a terrified girl on a sinking ship, sounds like fun!'. He really wants to scares a woman to death.

Do you have a bothersome aunt who never seems troubled to find ways with your sunny afternoons? A broad, splintery fence— a bucket of white wash, perhaps?

Sir this is a crime, he's calling for violence and murder. That's a feminicide happening soon! What the fuck, how in HELL is this book not censured, or BANNED?! This is 2009, doesn't someone check books before publishing them?

By gum you'll fix her wagon!

I'll fix your face, time shenanigans be damned! What is it with dudes fixating on other people's ass?!

Also, whitewash is a mixture, and "covering up a scandal" too. Smells like subconscious slip of his wrongdoings~

God this is tedious and awful to read. Almost there!

And what of that tawny gent who puts his lackadaisical lean near the sarsaparilla font?

It feels like a lot of made up words. I mean yeah words don't come from trees or the 'Great Book of All Words and Those Yet to Come', but I can't imagine people using them on a daily basis.

Ok, 'lackadaisical' is showing little effort or enthusiasm, 'sarsaparilla' is either a climbing plant (east asia) or a drink based of said plant. Between the sarsaparilla and the mahogany, him knowing such foreign flora gives me rich traveling dude and colonialism vibes.

You'll have that listless octoroon find the spring in his step just yet!

That's a lot of stuff that I don't understand, but I do know that an octoroon is mixed (ethnicities). "The word octoroon signifies a person of one-eighth African ancestry." according to Wikipedia. Gonna add racism to the old man bingo. Listless means lethargic. As in 'lazy african pests'. Yep it's racist alright. When does it takes place anyway? 1910/20-ish?

Alright lemme think and recontextualize all of it, I suck remembering events and dates so I need time. My grand-grandmother was born in 1912, year and day of the Titanic sinking I think.

The expression "sakes alive" was popular in 1930~1950, and its earliest use was 1860. So I kinda narrow it down.

After a good while I found this screenshot I took in 2019, couldn't find user pepple :/and princeofhope haven't posted anything since 2014. I couldn't even find the original post. But yeah, by relying on this graph it does make sense. [I wish I could properly credit pepple, if they're still there] —>

#homestuck #act 1 #homestuck reread #reread blog #colonel sassacre's book #the fool #old timey vernacular #racism #sexism #misogyny #bigoted old man #call to murder #problematic book #re-contextualizing

[forgivemefatherforihavesynthed]

Cheep and bad tv-shows

Today we have Resident Evil (the series). 

It is maybe the cheapest plot a tv show can get. I found a review in google that fits all i can’t explain properly:

“Words can’t describe how awful this show is. Riddled with plot holes and inconsistencies that will leave you frustrated while characters make stupid decisions left right and centre. For a series about zombies, there are barely any. Three episodes in and the whole show has been about a terrible protagonist named Jade, running away from umbrella as she tries to get home. Each scene is basically the same but in a different place; Umbrella chases Jade, finds her, kills a bunch of civilians trying to capture her, then she always miraculously escapes literally right under their noses.. This has happened every episode. One of the silly ways she escapes is jumping off of a 3 story wall (at least) and landing on the ground perfectly unharmed, then immediately begins to run away from a horde of 100+ zombies. Meanwhile the other half of the story is back in time when Jade is 14. Where you get to witness two bratty teenagers start a zombie outbreak because they feel bad that umbrella is testing on f****** rabbits.. Honestly the only reason I’ve managed to get this far is because of Lance Reddick, the only actor in this show that I recognize or care for. In conclusion, there’s too many things wrong with this show and I’d rate it less than 1 star if I was able to. This review was way too long and I didn’t even scratch the surface of its problems.“

Thank you Caleb for this comment. This makes things so much easy as i don’t have to look for the words to describe this shitty show.

[reiedits1]

The Last Of Us Part II

I played and finished The Last Of Us Part II last week and it has been on my mind ever since. I obviously understand that a lot of people have problems with this game, and that’s okay. I’m not here to change anyone’s views on the game or anything, I just want to kind of write down my opinions and takeaways as, again, it’s been on my mind since finishing it lol. Nobody may see this and this will mean nothing, that’s fine. 

Anyway, this post will contain SPOILERS

My Overall Thoughts

I’m not entirely sure how to structure this so I guess I’ll just start with a broad statement lol; I loved The Last Of Us Part II. In my opinion, it’s a beautiful and well-crafted story about loss, grief and consequences, with how each of these things affect different people. 

Discussion 

From what I’ve seen, I see a lot of people hating on this game for its handling of Joel and the decision to have the player play as Joel’s murderer, Abby. I’ve also seen a lot of people say that the message is as simple and plain as “viOleNcE iS bAd”, but I personally think it’s so much more than that.

The Last Of Us Part II doesn’t just tell you that violence is bad, but it shows you the ramifications of it by dealing with the emotional toll as well as the consequences on not just the main person involved, but their loved ones too.

As we all know, at the start of the game, Joel is brutally killed by Abby and we go with Ellie on a mission to avenge him by killing everybody involved. We see it all from Ellie’s point of view, hardheartedly seeing Abby as the villain as she just killed the character that we know and love as we have an emotional connection to him after the first game. His death is supposed to make you feel angered. It’s not like you’re supposed to be joyed by it. His death scene left me feeling empty and sick, wanting revenge alongside Ellie. 

However, as the game goes on, we start to see the story from Abby’s point of view. We learn that the doctor that you, the player, had to murder at the end of The Last of Us is actually the father of Abby. This is brilliant. Now we see one of the main themes of the story, consequences, and I was immediately on board. Joel is not a good person, at all. He murdered hundreds of Fireflies and took away the possible cure for humanity for his own personal reasons. This is incredibly selfish, even going to the lengths of lying to Ellie about the events as he knows that it isn’t what she would want. Technically, Joel is the villain.

Joel had been through so much, so you may think it’s justified. But the point is, Joel isn’t the only person in the world of The Last of Us. Everybody he murders aren’t just mindless NPCs, they are people. People with their own problems who have gone through their own share of pain and loss, people with their own loved ones. Such as the doctor, who had Abby, whom he loved very much and Abby the same. So, understandably, she would feel incredibly angry and feel the need for revenge, just the same as Ellie and the player after Joel’s death.

There is now a cycle of revenge. Ellie goes on to kill Abby’s friends, and so Abby tries to kill Ellie and her friends. It’s not until Lev talks Abby out of it that the cycle seems to have been “broken”. Abby and Lev put it behind them, however, Ellie cannot and nor can Tommy, which means that the cycle is not broken. Ellie continues her hunt for revenge, thinking it’s still what she needs. Just as she’s about to murder Abby, she sees it’s completely useless.

Here I’m going to talk about another core theme of the story: loss. As Ellie is about to kill Abby, she realises that Joel is gone. Completely gone, and killing Abby is not going to change that. She now has Lev, and if Ellie was to kill Abby, Lev would only lose Abby, leaving him in the same situation Ellie was in at the start of the game, which in turn means Ellie is becoming what she set out to kill. It’s no use. Revenge only causes more pain and loss. This cycle is so vicious and nobody wins, and Abby realised this once she found Lev, and found that revenge is a futile thing that does not achieve anything, especially not bringing back her dead friends. She managed to break the cycle herself, and in turn, she found a life worth living, a live with Lev. However, Ellie could not manage this, choosing to still seek revenge.

Because of this, she faces the consequences. She loses all of her loved ones. She loses Dina, she loses Jesse and she loses her baby son, JJ. Tommy is the same too. Tommy couldn’t break the cycle, and he loses his wife, Maria. And guess what, Joel is still gone. All of that loss, yet Joel is still dead. It’s all been for nothing. Ellie is now completely alone, which is what she said she was scared of in the first game, all because of revenge. The way forward is not anger, rage or revenge, but acceptance and love. That’s my takeaway.

You may think this treatment of Joel and Ellie is “disrespectful”, but I disagree. In the first game, you do a lot of bad things as these characters. Yeah, you go through a lot of pain, but so has everybody else, yet they still face the unfavorable consequences. It only makes sense that Joel and Ellie would too. In my opinion, this only helps to build the world of The Last of Us and show that just because Joel and Ellie are the main characters, they aren’t invincible, and the world doesn’t revolve around them. They just happen to be two people who live in the world amongst so many others, which for me, makes it so much more realistic. This is emphasised in the incredible detail in the gameplay of each enemy having names, with other enemies interacting with eachother as you stalk them. It makes them feel so much more real and only increased my enjoyability.

From a story like this, which is so dark and gritty, I don’t expect a happy ending. You’re not supposed to like Ellie by the end of this story, as she serves as the example of why the cycle of revenge is horrible. You’re not supposed to feel satisfied by it, you’re supposed to feel empty, hurt and sad. That is literally the point. 

You have to realise that The Last Of Us is a piece of artistic storytelling told and made by artists. It would have been so easy for Neil Druckmann to write a boring and two-dimensional story to appease players and make bank. But he didn’t. He chose to craft an intricate, heavy and creative direction for his material, and I hugely respect that. At the end of the day, he doesn’t owe you anything. This is his story, and these are his characters, he can do what he wants with them. If you don’t like his creative vision, then great! You don’t have to. If you don’t like something, just don’t play/watch/read it. If you loved the first game but hated the second, then just pretend it doesn’t exist and come up with your own fanfiction for these characters, it probably wouldn’t have been as good as this.

A lot of people blame “bad writing” when they don’t like something. There’s a difference between feeling bad about something than it being bad writing, you know. Just because it wasn’t what you wanted, doesn’t mean the writing is bad. By you feeling angry about Joel dying, Neil Druckmann’s writing has accomplished its objective. And I’m not trying to say that everybody who doesn’t like this game didn’t like it because their fanfiction didn’t come true. You cannot like this game solely because you don’t like the direction it took, and that’s fine. Because again, this story is a piece of artistic storytelling, and art is subjective.

This entire post is just my opinion. I personally loved this story and these characters, and it was exactly what I wanted to get out of this game. Everything about the game I just adored. I loved the plot, the writing, the characters, the gameplay, the music, the visuals, the performances - everything. And if you didn’t, then great. That’s your opinion. It just hurts me to see so many people dismissing the incredible things achieved in this game solely because of one plot point. I don’t know. As I said, I’m not trying to change your opinion or anything, I just thought I’d share mine.

I only scratched the surface of my thoughts and opinions on this game. I could talk about it for hours, which only goes to show the extent of its achievements and how incredible it really is. I doubt anybody is reading this and that’s fine, apologies if none of what I said made any sense at all lol, I’m awful at articulating my opinions aha.   

#the last of us #the last of us 2 #the last of us part 2 #tlou #tlou2 #yes this is about tlou2 #tlou2 critical #ellie #joel #joel and ellie #joel miller #ellie williams #abby #abby tlou #abby anderson #dina #dina tlou #ellie x dina #lev tlou #abby and lev #the last of us spoilers #the last of us 2 spoilers #the last of us 2 revew #the last of us 2 ending #the last of us analysis #neil druckmann #playstation #ps4 #ps5 #the last of us game

[imperiuswrecked]

Do you agree Namor is kind of a C lister? Do you agree or why do you think that is? :u

Namor is not a C lister, and I feel people really don't understand what it means when they rank characters by A, B, C, D List. So let me explain:

Character Rank List

A - The Hotshots, the cash cows, the big money makers. These characters are the celebrities. They have their own comics, their own large and dedicated fanbase. They got it all; the merch, the show/movie, heck maybe even a video game. This is where you have your batmans and spidermans. In the comic world these characters never go without a comic solo, popping up in other comics, cameos, etc. You and your mother and grandmother know who this character is. The fan wars never cease, but that is the price you pay for popularity.

B - The Support. A lot of comic characters fall under this ranking. They rarely ever lead, they might get a comic solo once every 10 years, people who aren't embedded in the comic world may not have heard of them. People who are embedded in the comic world might have heard of them or at least have a vague idea of them. More than 10 people have heard of this character. Usually they have a much smaller but dedicated fanbase that wanes and waxes as the years go by. They get small references, maybe even a cameo in a tv/movie, or again they show up as support in another character's comic. This is NOT to be confused with an A Listers supporting cast which are all there for the A Lister. B List characters move from comic to comic, sometimes they have big or relevant roles, however they are usually more well known for being on a certain team. B characters are literally one good comic run or movie or show away from becoming an A Lister, all they need is Comic Creators putting in the effort to build them/their fanbase up. You will find fans if you scratch more than the surface of fandom.

C - The Plot Device. This character was created/used only for the Plot. They are in some way needed, or created to be needed for a certain storyline. Usually you will never see this character again. They may pop up once every 10-20 years if someone remembers they exist. Usually when these characters do appear it's because a creator has a fondness/loves them and tries to include them in their book. The remaining bulk of comic characters fit into this ranking, Sometimes they are thrown onto teams because Creators need their specific skill set/character and they become fan favorites. C Listers can become B Listers if they clock in enough cameos which in turn, may lead to a one shot or recurring solo comics, and more recognition within the comic world. C Listers are that character you fell in love with in an older arc and can see the potential of them but sadly they were shelved so now you thrive on them maybe showing up in the background of other comics. C List characters rarely get solos or focus. Comic fans will tell you "X character showed up in one comic series in the 90s but that's all we need, you have to read this because I can't be the only one obsessed with this character." Only about 10 people remember or know of this character. You all know each other in fandom.

D - Trash. Absolute Garbage. This is a Trash Fire of a character. You will find this character and think "who the fuck thought this character was a good idea?!" D Listers are canon fodder. They are the red shirts. They will die and no one will care. They will be replaced by another D Lister. This character is usually made for a specific era and have about 5 comic appearances, so unless a Creator finds this character and decides to update them and give them some TLC then you are shit out of luck. You will pull this Trash out of the fire and decide to love it. You will be maybe the only person who likes this character, you might find one comic fan was dedicated to this character in the 60s and wrote many fan letters about them but that fan is long dead so you're the only one left who likes them. You will be the only person writing about this character on Ao3.

That's the Rank List. Even within the Rank List you will find some A characters are more popular than other A characters, etc.

So when I say Namor is B Lister, that is his current role/popularity in the comic world as of this year, 2022.

Namor in the Golden Age was an A Lister and very popular, for comparison: he was literally the Spider-Man of his day. As the first comic Anti Hero he was a trailblazer for many characters to follow and didn't follow the mold of other heroes of that era. The only reason his comics stopped printing in the 50s is because many superhero comics stopped printing due to them falling out of fashion. However he was only out of print for about 5-6 years. The Superhero Boom of the Silver Age had Namor right back in very early where he was once again an A Lister with cameos in other characters books and his own long running series. The Bronze Age came along and pushed Namor into B Lister status where he was literally moving from book to book for cameos, and Namor has been in this ranking ever since. Namor is that wild card that creators use when they need a big gun on their book or they need him to shake up a team, he is usually used as the Voice of Opposition who either points out the flaws of what is happening or needs to be convinced to go along with the heroes, convincing him is like convincing the reader, or giving voice to the readers doubts as Namor is usually the outsider and can be used in multiple ways to challenge or help the main hero.

However The Powers that Be at Marvel feel he can't carry a comic outside of limited runs because they don't want to put in the effort.

Why won't Marvel put in the effort with Namor?

I feel it's in part due to whomever being in Charge doesn't see the potential but also Character Rights, there's a reason why in recent cartoons Marvel had to use Attuma instead of Namor as leader of the Atlanteans. His rights were sold off in the 2000s, however currently those rights might be back at Marvel. There can be alot of backstage fuckery happening that we know nothing about and sometimes the Ones in Charge do hate certain characters and prevent them from being used. A famous example is Dan Didio at DC, known for hating Legacy characters, removing many Legacy characters to bring back their predecessors yet the moment he was kicked out of DC those Legacy characters began to make a come back.

If Namor does appear in a movie soon then we will see a change in his status.

#namor #namor mckenzie #namor the sub mariner #marvel #dc comics #marvel comics #comic talk #comic fandom #imp answers

[pandoricpies]

SSO Horrors

A post diving into how dark this franchise’s storyline gets and ideas for a horror game that will never actually be created. SPOILERS for the SL books and SSO storyline.

This idea originally came to me after reading the second book of the SL trilogy, The Legend Awakens. Props to Helena Dahlgren for the Pine Hill Manor scenes in that book; I was completely left on the edge of my seat the entire time. Linda’s whole experience was definitely an unexpected thriller for the children’s genre; cutting her leg on a broken window, exploring an old creepy mansion owned by the centuries-old psychopath that was targeting her, her friends, and their horses, being chased down halls and having to barricade herself in rooms to be protected from the apparent non-human dark riders (not to mention the way Dahlgren describes the animal sounds and scratching that they made, chills), and, to top it all off, nearly dying from sepsis due to her cut becoming infected.... if that’s not horror game material, I don’t know what is.

If you can’t already tell from the title of this post, I am a huge fan of the horror genre. The suspense-packed and often deep moral stories are always a fun watch/read. I personally am currently making my way through some classic Stephen King books that I haven’t read yet which was sort of what inspired this post.

Taking a look at SSO’s storyline on the surface level, we see a classic dark vs. light story, with horses and female heroines as the main points. However, there are quite a few darker elements hidden among the story quests, most of which would only be noticeable to the eye of the older audience of the game. The potential for this plot to be upped to a more mature level as far as darker themes go is definitely there. Regardless, the already existing underlying themes have some heavy themes...

- Teenagers, around the ages of 15-19, have been tasked with saving the world from a demonic entity. They have been granted special powers to do this with. These powers however can be extremely dangerous, as we see with both Alex and Catherine with their Lightning Circle incidents, in which they almost killed living beings. These factors combined would no doubt take some sort of psychological toll on the Soul Riders, as they are so named.

- Brainwashing and cult-mindset was a huge theme brought up with Justin’s kidnapping. He was abruptly cut off from the outside world, had his memories removed, and his mind artificially filled with thoughts of Garnok and world domination. It’s clear when he is rescued and goes back to his home that he’s depressed; his Midsummer dialogue a year back was “My dad thought it would be good for me to get out. I don’t do that much anymore” (not exact but close enough). When he talks to his mother during the memories quests the first thing he jumps to seeing her pregnant with him is “I wonder if she’d would be so excited if she knew all the terrible things I did”. To add to that, upon getting Justin back home, Thomas tells our character “If he keeps having these dark thoughts, I’ll have to turn to the druids.” That in itself was pretty unsettling. All this dialogue was put there to draw attention to the mental affects of literally having your brain tampered with.

- Elizabeth’s story was probably one of the saddest in my opinion. She had to stand by while her friend group fell apart, one going on to die, one going missing, and the other two continuing to split away from her. She then felt it was her responsibility to make up for her sisterhood’s failures, staying with the druids and eventually helping recruit new Soul Riders. Seriously though, imagine that. She saw what pain the magical war brought to her and her friends; knowing that she was pushing four more kids into a situation like that would’ve been devastating (here comes the morals vs. duty idea). Our character must have been a whole other level of that feeling. She saw what Catherine went through with her magic - the fear, the near madness. Then of course she goes on to imprison her close friend’s son (it appeared from the quests that she was closest to Catherine so that just adds to the pain). And to end it all, she sacrifices herself to save a girl who she considered a daughter.... jeez. - Catherine is another issue here for obvious reasons. A teenage girl is entrusted with goddess-level powers, then nearly goes psycho from the inability to control them. You can clearly tell from her last few diary entries how exhausting that was and how happy she was to finally have a somewhat normal life with her husband and son.

- And finally of course we have the DC gang. Mr. Sands is a basket case all on his own, a man who has used mind control (arguably in my opinion one of the creepiest forms of dark magic out there) on numerous victims including his own grandson, a man who legitimately worships a demon, and not to mention has it out for a bunch of teenagers. His whole backstory with Rosalinda made me feel some sort of sympathy for his character (he watched her nearly be drowned to death), and I’m actually quite curious as to where they’re going to take that. Also, The Nightmare Institute? That could be a horror game within itself. All we know so far about that place is that humans and animals are tested on with dangerous materials (ex. Mr. Anwir). Let’s not forget to mention the dark riders who apparently have animal qualities now? (as it was described in the SL books) Ok so we can clearly see that SSO’s storyline gets a bit dark. But just imagine; a Pine Hill Mansion first-person POV game, where you’re in a situation similar to Linda’s, or even one in DC or the Nightmare Institute. Honestly this entire storyline could be turned into some Resident Evil plot lol.

But that being said, as much as it’s fun to speculate these types of things, I enjoy SSO’s storyline just the way it is. It’s enjoyable for me as an older player, but it’s also filled with great moral stories and motivation for young children, especially girls. I love the atmosphere of female empowerment, and it’s especially unique to SSO because around the time of it’s initial release, that wasn’t seen much in video games.

Might start during these ‘chat’ or ‘random things that come to my mind’ posts more often.

#star stable #SSO #star stable online #pine hill manor #mr sands #Dark Riders #darko #dark core #sso dark core #sl books #soul riders

[questionablygourmet]

Will Graham contains multitudes (and that’s a good thing)

Okay, I’ve been seeing a lot of edgelord meta takes on Will, lately*, and it’s bugging me enough as a phenomenon that I want to briefly address some common themes I’m seeing in them, and hopefully provide some food for thought as people continue to rewatch and write about the show. 

Will has indeed made a career out of his understanding of, and fascination with, violence.  He does explicitly admit to enjoying violence that he’s enacted (and sometimes the thought of violence he might enact), and a lot of his onscreen connection with Hannibal is centered on this mutual fascination and appreciation.  

However.

We are also explicitly told and shown, repeatedly, that not all violence is created equal, to Will.  That he has to juggle substantial, sometimes severe, amounts of fear along with that fascination and that understanding.  That he clearly sympathizes with the victims of violence that he considers unjust (even when they are also, themselves, perpetrators - Christopher, Abigail, Georgia, and to a lesser extent Peter).

In the pilot episode they’d barely begun to scratch the surface of what the show would become (given that Bryan Fuller literally started re-writing season 1 on the fly after seeing the pilot cuts), but this line of Hannibal’s is relevant and stays relevant: Your values and decency are present, yet shocked by your associations, appalled at your dreams

And the thing that keeps Will in the field, despite knowing it’s bad for him, that it is actively harming him, is the chance that he can save lives by doing so.  This stays true even in the Red Dragon arc: Molly is shown persuading him in exactly this way, and that’s shown for a reason.  Saving lives is still an important motivation for him.  (And yes, it is terribly romantic to watch him read Hannibal’s letter by firelight and imagine him pining, but let’s be honest - if an excuse to go see Hannibal had been enough of a motivating factor in its own right, he could have had one a hell of a lot sooner.)

The operative point, here, is that not only can Will possess and enact both honest compassion and murderous violence, without that tension between the two, what even is the plot?  The primary emotional arc of the entire show is rooted in that conflict!  

The other thing that grinds my gears as much in an ableism sense as a literary one is the attempted casting of all Will’s interactions with other humans as manipulative/false and/or callous and/or cruel, in light of his demonstrated capacity to do/be all of those things at certain times (often but not exclusively toward Hannibal).  

Mild social awkwardness and occasional standoffishness, which Will does demonstrate toward many other characters in the show, are not fundamentally sinister.  We are told and shown repeatedly that his preference is, for the most part, to be left alone.  When people disregard that, his reaction is roughly proportional to the degree of violation - think of it, perhaps, on a scale of Beverly to Freddie.  He’s a bit awkward with Beverly early on, but he recognizes that despite a few invasions of his personal space, she’s basically friendly, kind, and without much in the way of ulterior motives, and their relationship proceeds accordingly.  Freddie, meanwhile, begins their association by gaining access to a crime scene under false pretenses and then publicly calling him insane, and things predictably go downhill from there!    

Will isn’t obligated to be nice to people who are treating him poorly any more than a woman is obligated to smile for a catcaller, and on the one hand I’m always a bit boggled that a white cis dude is getting this kind of treatment from (part of) fandom, but on the other, the expectation that autistic people constantly perform social normativity Or Else sure is familiar.  

I do thoroughly appreciate the irony that my very first gripe in this fandom was with having run into a few too many depictions of Will as a poor helpless softboy uwu(TM), and now here we are at the opposite pole of the disk horse.  But seriously - nuance is a thing.  Will Graham contains multitudes, and that’s a good thing, because we wouldn’t have much of a show if he didn’t.  

*I am not intending to complain about “Dark!Will” fanfiction.  That’s its own, often very creative kettle of fish.  This post is specifically about interpretations of Will as he appears in the canon material.  

#hannibal #will graham #meta #my meta #metafandom wank #i wanted to call this post 'will graham and the dichotomy of good and evil' for the Pirates of the Caribbean ref #but decided it sounded really dumb if you didn't get the joke

[gofancyninjaworld]

OPM Mega review (chapters 131 - 148): Part 2  To the side, not the sidelines

A continuation of part 1 of the mega review.  This isn’t a narrative account, but rather a look at all the other groups and happenings around where the main battle is raging.

Heroism in all sizes

It’s like the end of the world.  City Z isn’t the first city to face near total devastation.  But City A was at least gone in a flash. People had almost no time to consider their imminent demise.  In City Z, the carnage has had time to build and to come from multiple directions.  From vampiric monster roots enveloping and sucking the lives out of inhabitants by the block. From powerful earthquakes splitting and even twisting the ground. From aerial bombardments of gigantic rubble and from the sea itself as the coastline is threatened by a chain of tsunamis.  Survivors aren’t bothering to try driving: it’s whatever you can carry as fast as you can.

Those who gave up their beds.  The Hero Hospital in City S has come to serve as an impromptu staging post for nearby heroes.  Like a middle finger stuck up at face of civilisation, the tower previously buried underground and its glowing red monster is just about visible from the hillsides of City S and draws heroes in like a beacon.  First Metal Bat,  then Mumen Rider, then the Tank Toppers, then the Blizzard Group, then all the other heroes hospitalised in the aftermath of either the Day of Chaos or Garou’s depredations discharge themselves against medical advice and run in to see who they can save.

just as well they all went -- the roads are so impassable and the situation so volatile that they’re literally the only rescue coming for hours if not days

Swept up in the mood, the martial artists were considering moving out too, only for Suiryu to pour cold water on the notion.  It has done me a world of good to see that Suiryu has been inspired by Max and Snek and not Saitama. He finally gets it that a hero is someone who has the courage to step into the path of danger because someone needs help, and not because they’re strong and think they’ll win.

No space for playing hero.  It’s very wise that Suiryu advised his fellow martial artists not to play hero.  If many have complained about how heroes seem to be blessed with life, no such protections are afforded to non-heroes. The people who went in alongside heroes have suffered grievously,  although those who have died did so bravely.

I have a one-person prayer circle going for Sekingar. I pray that ONE will choose to spare his fine non-hero one-eyed, single-handed ass.  I have come to like the guy and I’ve been impressed at how he has stayed calm when trapped in City Z,  succeeded in encouraging discouraged heroes and even asserting a genuine authority to guide Metal Bat and King. I don’t think there’s too many more like him in the executive of the Hero Association and think it’d be a shame if he didn’t bring his hard-won experiences back to guide them in what’s sure to be a crisis.

The king under the mountain

This arc has introduced us to a lot of concepts and players who are likely to have long-term effect on the world.  In this series of chapters, some of these ideas are developed further.

Came for the pussy, stayed for the tentacles. I’m sorry, I’m allowed one double entendre a week and I decided to curse you with it.  I wouldn’t have mentioned this but Drive Knight’s comings and goings are almost certainly going to be very plot-relevant later.   He was supposed to be gone with his prize of one Nyan, but then he saw the tower emerge and Psykos-Orochi wave tentacles skyward and as much as a cyborg with no discernable facial features can be said to yearn, he yearned. For a sample that is.

He stuck around as long as it took him to get a sample of Orochi and then he was gone, without so much as a ‘thank you for your help’.  At present, we’ll just have to see what this is all about later.

When the cat’s away the mice will play.  The only way to foment a world ending crisis is to have the guy who can squash it all and wonder what the fuss was about occupied elsewhere.  Through meeting Flashy Flash and getting a tour into the deepest reaches of the Monster Association thanks to Manako, and a couple of other things, Saitama is literally trapped in an alternative dimension. Although, being Saitama, if he felt a sense of urgency, he’d break back into the real world without a second thought.  Right now he’s curious,worried for his house, but mostly hungry.  Some curry would be nice.

The real question is how are the heroes going to hold out until Saitama arrives?  I’ve been touched by how genre-savvy Genos and King are about this. It’d be amusing if it weren’t so brutally true.

The formal establishment of extra-spatial dimensions as a feature not restricted to a few unusual individuals.   Phoenixman first got us learning about the idea of extra dimensions, in his case a private manifestation of his inner psyche.  Neither he nor Child Emperor physically moved.

Ninchirin introduces us to the idea of an extra-spatial dimension that physical objects can be stowed in and taken from.

But nothing takes it as far as ‘God’ with the existence of a pocket dimension with its own timeline that takes people in wholesale.  Whether a lot of time passes on the outside (as it does for Saitama and co) or no time passes (as it does for Psykos-Orochi) seems to depend on ‘His’ will. 

The formal establishment of ‘God’ as a singular being with a distinct personality.  Homeless Emperor first talked about ‘God’ as being a being who tasked him with eliminating humanity after he despaired of living as one.  Pyskos expands on that concept. She saw ‘God’ very differently, as a quasi-planetary being rather than as a vaguely humanoid one, but her experience of ‘Him’ as a being who bestowed power and a mission on her bears striking similarity to that of Homeless Emperor.

How people get to talk to ‘God’ becomes clear when we see Flashy Flash and Saitama accidentally summoning ‘Him’ via handling a box.  Which leads very naturally to elucidating some of the mystery of Blast. 

Finding out why Blast is still the number 1 hero.   If the likes of Tatsumaki leave us scratching our heads as to how any hero could outwork her in terms of facing monsters, Blast gives us an answer.  He specialises in dealing with non-physical threats, which he does by having some sort of dimension-hopping gizmo.  The black box he disposes of identical to that seen in Tatsumaki’s flashback, leading us naturally to think about what business the facility holding her was having with ‘Him.’   Webcomic readers see a gimme as well in the construction of the Ninja Village Flash hails from, along with Blast paying the ninjas a visit.

With Blast having taken Saitama and co out of reality, it’s going to be an unknown while before they pop back into it.

Sleeping is such a nice euphemism for dying

The principle of explosive growth through surviving situations that should have killed one is by this point a well-established mechanic within the story.  After seeing Phoenixman come back from the dead, it should perhaps not be a surprise to us that Orochi does the same.  In coming back, he’s evolved into a distributed form that can regrow after even extensive destruction and the consequences of his doing so are already covered in part 1 of this review.

Speaking of evolution, what about Garou? We left Garou buried under tons of rock in the wake of Tatsumaki lifting the base.  Yet again, he does not die -- thank you Darkshine for your anti blunt trauma vaccination -- and little by little, we see him dig himself out, and transforming himself as he goes as he dreams of a world in which he enforces peace but very unconventional means.

In retrospect, the sequence of Garou’s eyes closing in response to his humanising memory of Tareo is the most ominous as the eyes that open again have not a shred of humanity in them.

It reminds me a lot of what we saw happen to Gouketsu when the latter accepted a monster cell, his human eyes closing as a new set of monster ones opened.

At long last, Garou makes it back to the surface.  But what’s this?  Where’s the wise-cracking, judgemental little shit we love?  What is this near silent, befanged, clawed feral creature beating down on everything he sees? Oh dear.  He is not sleeping sweetly, dreaming pleasant dreams of a world perfectly obedient while he waits for the fist of some self-righteous prince to awaken him to his destiny.  Garou may perceive it as lapses in consciousness, but it’s the monster within eating him alive.  He’s dying. He is under real existential threat of being completely lost to monsterfication and how it is that he can save his humanity is a big point of interest. 

In his flawed way,  Bang is trying to get through to Garou.  I don’t hold out big prospects of him reaching him.  And if he does, I hold out even smaller prospects of him actually beating Garou.  Barring some interruption, we might be about to see the tragedy of a master beaten down by his student.

I’m going to leave this review here.  What comes next is all too soon going to change the status quo of the story, if not for the better, then certainly for the more eventful. 

#OPM #review #Snek #Saitama #Garou #Bang #Flashy Flash #Sekingar #a lot has happened #and the heroes working bravely in the background to save as many as they can is indeed heroism at its best #how the supernatural meddling fits in with everything that we see going on we don't yet know #Garou coming back onto the scene is a far more ominous re-emergence than it was in the webcomic #this could get really ugly

[mypoisonedvine]

First Chanukah Together (Night 3) | Ari Levinson x reader

you don’t have to read the other nights to keep up with the ‘plot’ (or lack thereof) but just in case here are night 1 and night 2!

summary: ari takes you ice skating and you both enjoy the sights and sounds of the season.  perhaps a little too much.

word count: 1.2k

warnings: some flirting and teasing, technically implied smut?, and the most subtle, gentle reference to power dynamics but nothing too spicy, mainly just fluff.  possible alcohol reference since wassail is sometimes served with alcohol?

a/n: this is not important to the story at all but I imagine Ari’s winter outfit as Ransom’s infamous cable-knit sweater, brown coat and colorful scarf.  idk why but the idea of soft baby Ari dressed like that gets me all kinds of excited lmao

“I’m gonna fall!” you screamed as you swung your arms wildly to try to keep your balance.  

“No you’re not,” he encouraged as he kept his arms out to catch you, “I’m right here, you’ll be fine.”

Turns out balancing on two thin blades on a hard, cold surface of ice is really hard.  Ari was a good teacher, and unendingly patient, but you were still beyond terrified.  Stealing a glance at the girl skating past you, it was hard not to be jealous of her speed, her control, the quick little jump and spin she did as if it were nothing.  She looked so at home on the ice— and so did Ari, who looked way too good with that brown coat and brightly-patterned scarf, the one you’d gotten for him for his birthday a while back.  If there had ever been a time you wished you could grow your own beard, it would be now, because it looked like it kept his smile real warm.  You’d have to settle for snuggling up to his for the time being, though.

“Come on, just skate over to me,” he waved you forward as he started to move back.  Annoyingly, he continued moving back as you hesitantly pushed forward.

“Stop moving!” you whined.  “You keep getting further away!”

“Just keep going, you’re doing great,” he assured.  You weren’t sure that was true, considering how wobbly your legs were the whole time.  But, just as you slipped and started to topple, he suddenly appeared and caught you.  He made it seem like your weight was nothing to him, even on ice, and it was so distracting as you braced yourself on his arm.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, finding your balance enough for him to let go of you (although you wished he wouldn’t).

It took you a bit of practice, but eventually you found your footing and managed to skate around the rink a few times.  You still didn’t dare to stray too far from the wall, lest you need to reach out and grab it suddenly, but you did your best.  Ari stayed with you, occasionally grabbing your mitten-wrapped hand and squeezing it.

Once you had found your rhythm, you instantly found your competitive spirit as well, skating faster than him with a raised eyebrow of challenge.  He took you on, only to skip his blades on a chunk of ice and fall.  It didn’t look that bad, which meant you felt mostly comfortable mocking him.

“Oh, what’s this?” you grinned as you looked down at him, his long hair splayed out on the ice as he smiled up at you.  “The student has become the master, it seems.  Gotta watch where you’re skating, champ.”

“Just help me up, will you?” he requested with an extended up.  

“Ari, you’re like 200 pounds.  I can’t help you up normally, let alone when I’m on skates,” you frowned.  “Looks like you’re on your own.”

“Wait!” he called out as you skated away, though he was laughing so you knew it wasn’t that serious.  Besides, he got his chance for revenge just a few minutes later when he caught up to you, grabbing you as he skated past and roughly slammed your body into the wall with his.  The wind was knocked out of you for a brief moment as he smiled down at you, leaning to whisper against your ear.  “Not to be too literal, but you’re cold as ice.”

“Ari,” you giggled breathlessly as he kissed your earlobe, and your jaw, moving lower slowly but surely, “we’re in public… people are looking at us.”  And though it wasn’t a lot, you were right; a few other skaters were definitely giving the two of you funny looks as he held you tighter.

“They were looking when you left your poor boyfriend out on the ice by himself, you didn’t seem to mind.  Can’t have them thinking I’m some kind of pansy getting bossed around by his girl, now can we?”

Generally, Ari was more progressive than most in terms of gender equality in a relationship.  That said, he certainly had his moods where he reminded you just how badly you needed him and how thoroughly you belonged to him; and, in turn, he had his moods where he reminded you that he was totally and completely yours, so it wasn’t unfair.

Fairness was the last thing on your mind, though, as he started to lightly suck on your neck, his beard scratching you in that ticklish and addictive way.

“Ari,” you whined as you pushed him off of you, finally getting through to him, “I’m sorry I left you when you fell, alright?  I’ll make it up to you—”

He raised his eyebrows with a smirk.

“— later.”

He seemed disappointed by the prospect of waiting, yet confident in what his reward would be.  “Hmm, I think I’m gonna get lucky tonight,” he grinned.

“Yeah, we’ll see,” you rolled your eyes, suppressing a smirk of your own.

//

It took a second to readjust to walking on the ground rather than skating on ice, but after that you two were on your way as you strolled through the bustling city, the night brighter than ever with lights on every tree and lamp post.  Ari had said to you a few days ago that he didn’t mind the way the city transformed for Christmas, nor did he feel excluded by it.  He was quick to point out, after all, that the Festival of Lights was perfectly complemented by Christmas lights, even if the intentions were different.  Now that you had heard it from him, you did appreciate the ways that the two overlapped.  A lot of the best things about Chanukah, in your mind, were just the things that made wintertime so great— and Christmas was sort of the same way for a lot of people, too.  

People bundled up in coats, families walking together, shoppers searching for last-minute gifts for their friends, couples holding hands and sharing chaste kisses as their breath fogged in the air.  It was all very Norman Rockwell, and it made you smile as you hugged onto Ari’s arm. 

“Want some cocoa?” he offered as the two of you passed a stall selling hot drinks.  Just as you contemplated that, you noticed that wassail was also on the menu.

“Ooh, wassail!” you piped up.  “Ever had it before?”

“I don’t think so,” he furrowed his brow.  

“Try some, it’s delicious,” you encouraged him.  He shrugged and agreed, ordering a cup of wassail for each of you and forking over some bills and coins to pay the vendor.  It came right from a big steel kettle of the fire, ladled into the cups individually as the amber liquid steamed in the cold.  With a quick thank you to your boyfriend for buying your drink and a mumbled ‘cheers,’ you each took a sip of your drinks.  You smiled as the sweet, spicy flavors poured over your tongue and warmed your chest from the inside out.  

“It’s good,” he announced as he swallowed his first taste, nodding to you approvingly.  “Do you wanna finish this and then head home?”

“You’re just eager for me to make it up to you,” you remembered with a grin.

“Yes, and I bet you’re eager to make it up to me, too,” he countered.

“Yup,” you agreed, chugging the rest of your drink and tossing the empty cup in a bin.  “Let’s go home.”

“Taxi!” Ari yelled as he waved into the street.

#ari levinson x reader #ari levinson fluff #ari levinson x you #ari levinson x y/n

[glitteronadumpsterfire]

I'm a fucking wreck rn I haven't been sleeping for a week and I'm getting some rest from the bullshit factory that is my brain only now, but I just wanted to say that last year for me has been saved by tumblr and all the friends I made along the way.

Before you go below the cut, a special thanks goes to the Bee Movie Anon, who, rightfully, I can't tag so I have to say it here in the hope that they'll see it. Your hunger for chaos made me feel a lot of emotions, and I'd have never in any time or space thought that the Bee Movie would be such a prominent part of my life as it is now thanks (read it with a note of sarcasm) to you. Thank you for providing us an infinite amount of both entertainment and suffering, hell, some of the friends I made were because of YOU. I'm still not sure what was your drive to go and start this absurd crusade for the bee movie in the 80s metal fandom, but I don't know, I don't think bee so, I'm not gonna question your ways.

@arnold-layne being the first in line, you kept me sane somehow in the first phases of quarantine and dedicated a lot your time to talk with me and helped me enormously with creativity. If it wasn't for you, that Cyberpunk Comic That Is Kinda Inspired By The Crüe and Shout At The Devil would've been already down the drain. I would've given up probably, because I didn't know how to exted the concept and have an actual plot. A dream that I've been having for literal years wouldn't even have such cool characters with a rich storyline if it wasn't for you. I know I kinda left it after a month or so of intense brainstorming with you, I was literally drained at that point both physically and mentally, but oh boy I haven't forgot about the characters that WE created. How could I after all? Russ being the wreck of a tormented junkie protagonist that he is, Dylan the happy-go-lucky fuck up that seems to do nothing right but with the best intentions, Frankie the runaway sassy and wary androgynous teenager whose gender is a mystery even to themselves, and the epitome of the found family trope, ex gov agent part Japanese, part Russian, part cyborg Vik, whose story isn't still clear yet but we'll give him a very good one, eventually.

You gave me the curiosity to read fanfiction again after literally NINE YEARS of being distant from that part of the fandom and honestly I don't regret it one bit. In fact, I discovered literally my favorite writer in fanfiction. That is you, Arnold. I don't care how frequently you write, I don't care if sometimes you can't do your best. I'll always be there waiting for the next chapter and I'll always think that your art is sublime. I'll have to admit, I don't read your works as often as I should. But it's because I love them so much that I want to always save for later. It's like a drug, or a delicious cake that you want it to last as long as possible so you can enjoy it for much longer (I should be reading your fic more often either way tho like, at least so I can make more art for it. I'll make sure to change that this year and give you the recognition you deserve 🖤).

Everytime I make art, everytime I make a post, I always wait for your name to pop in my notifs. And fuck if I'm happy when I see it, and I rush to read your tags and it always makes my day. Like seriously, you mean so much to me and I admire how you can still be any amount of sane with all you're going through. You're strong as hell, keep going. 🖤

@i-dont-like-rice dude, how can I explain it. You're my best bud here. You're my chaotic sibling from another mother. The other braindead I share the single braincell I have with. The Nikki to my Tommy. Or the Tommy to my Nikki, I'm still not sure which of us is which (I guess I'm Nikki and you're Tommy? lmao it's ironic how even them are an italian and a balkanian) but you get the point. Every interaction we have, I laugh my ass off till my whole body hurts every time. I think I worried my mother and annoyed my sister at least a couple times for bursting out laughing for five minutes straight out of the blue, especially if it was late at night, and all the times, I swear it was because of you. You are as chaotic as you are kind, and it's always so disarming to see you worry or take care of others when you are definitely in a worse situation. Please, be more selfish, goddammit. For your own sake. And be more confident of your art. Draw shit and post it. Who cares if it's not perfect and you hate it and you don't want anybody to see it, it's tumblr, nobody will ever reblog it or give you the well deserved recognition anyway! So it's worth a try isn't it?

@no-stone-no-bone seriously, I'm so glad I met you. You're like the third element of chaos that holds me and Andi together. All three of us are literally unstoppable. You're extremely sweet too and I wish you the best, and DON'T HIDE SHIT IN THE TAGS GODDAMMIT 😂

@white-lightning-625 @viiinceneil I know we really haven't talked much, and we met through unfortunate times, but I'm so glad that something good came out of the chaos and drama, which is being able to talk to you and getting to know you both better. And the fics. My god, the fics. Frankie, I already told you this but MY GOD. I still find it incredible that I've read a fic about a band I didn't even know what they looked or sounded like and I was HOOKED from start to finish. And Katie, I should definitely read more of your works because I love what you've got going on. You're both very sweet and talented with a very distinct, beautiful way of writing and I can't wait to sink my teeth into the pulp of your work, because I know that by now I only scratched the surface.

@awrestlinggirlwholoves80sbands Bruh, conoscere una fan su tumblr the parla la MIA STESSA LINGUA (e che ha pure il mio stesso vero nome lmao cosa sta succedendo)??? Che concetto innovativo!!! Le nostre conversazioni sono sempre disgiunte, ma non importa, adoro ogni nostra interazione. Sei seriamente una delle persone più dolci e gentili che abbia mai conosciuto. La tua creatività stimola sempre la mia. Le tue moodboard sono sempre 👌👌👌 e ogni volta trovo sempre qualcosa che sì, ci avevo pensato, ma mai nel modo in cui lo poni tu, e di solito sono una persona che resta vicina alle proprie idee, ma tu riesci a farmi alterare prospettiva, e trovo questo meccanismo mentale molto affascinante. Ti ricordi lo swapped instruments AU, con Tommy come cantante, no? Giuro che è un concetto a cui penso ancora dopo mesi. Spero di avere la capacità mentale per tradurre quell'idea in arte il prima possibile, perché cazzo, lo adoro troppo

@tattooed-lies thank you for providing the fandom the best gifs in the fucking platform and thank you for giving us the vinikki content that everyone, even if they're not aware, deserves and needs. Thank you for being the only Vince stan that I know. Thank you for being the sweetest person alive 💖

@nbtommylee honestly, I wish I was cool like you. Your sense of humor is impeccable, much like your critical thinking. I have never read something from you that wasn't a valid point. You don't talk shit and that's extremely sexy of you, y'know? And having a "gender dysphoria buddy" to be jealous of our Rockstar Gender Of Choice with is always fun to have, so that's definitely a plus. Can't wait to see (and read!) more of your art, I just love your style so much and you deserve to be Known

@metalmelkor @emometalhead @polka-dot-duff I'm always so happy to see you in my notifs and y'all are oh so very sweet and cool, we haven't talked much but I love every interaction we have, sorry for having the social skills of a stale piece of white bread 🖤

A special thanks goes to @awesomgrlgr8job bc you're literally one of my very first mutuals since I made the decision to make this dumpster fire of a blog and holy shit it's crazy to think about that. I don't even know if we ever interacted that much but it's always such a joy to see you around, ily and I hope you're doing well and thanks for putting up with my clownery for so long 💖

Like seriously, thank you all. I don't even know where I would be without you. Here's to another year of chaos, but only of the good kind 💖

#witchy.txt #I didn't think I would've rambled so much ahshdhjfjf I'm so sorry you have to go through all that #there are a lot of people I could've mentioned but we never really talked so I wouldn't have much to say #but believe me when I tell you that I love seeing you on my dash and in my notifs #I really mean that #and I hope y'all are doing well bc ily 💖

[xanderwithanx]

Exorcist II is the worst movie of all time, and I do not mean this in a hyperbolic way. I was so enraged. Every second of this movie just made me angrier.

I watched the first one a few days ago, The Exorcist. I had no idea I was about to watch my new favorite movie! It's definitely one of the best I've ever seen.

Then, "Hey, let's watch Exorcist II! It's supposed to be really bad." That's cool. I love bad movies. But this was a baffling, terrible experience that left me deeply angry and deeply confused.

I don't know this movie's plot. I couldn't tell you if I tried. I'm not lying, it felt like a heinous Nyquil-induced dream. I think Reagan (the daughter) is our main character? I think she's a Saint now?

She's in this "hospital" (citation needed) for mentally disabled kids, for some reason. The "hospital" (citation needed) is basically an office building, comprised of confusing octagonal rooms. The rooms have windows instead of walls. It's basically a disabled kids fish-tank.

Also, all the disabled kids wear white clothes, but not hospital clothes or uniforms. Also, Reagan cures a girl's autism at one point... for some reason?

Like "Hospital", none of the locations feel real. In the original Exorcist, the locations are embodied and tangible. But, in Exorcist II, I felt like I was on the holodeck. I can't express how much this movie sucks.

Reagan's mom isn't a character in this movie. Yes, she was the main character in the last movie, but who cares about that? Get her out of here! We have to make room for new "characters"

There's a new priest! He's not actually a priest. He's just a demon cop. Unlike the first movie, grounded in the Catholic Church, these are just demon cops, and Priest is On The Case.

There's a doctor at the "hospital", but she isn't a character either. Most of the "conflict" and "dialogue" come from these 2, arguing back and forth, "I have to get the demon," "But science says there's only brain. I have to get the brain," "But I have to get the demon," "But there's only brain. I have to get the brain." It feels so empty and stupid.

Even THE CHARACTERS don't seem invested in this conflict. They just recite these lines, and I have no idea why. There's nothing inside them.

A lot of things happen in this movie that just don't have logic. For example, the main mechanic is Hypnosis Strobe Machine. Hypnosis Strobe Machine gives two people a Psychic Link. This is what Rational Doctor says, like it's normal technology. I'm convinced the writers have no idea how it works. It works differently minute to minute, character to character.

It's also deeply, blatantly racist. Like, half of the movie is literally racist bullshit.

The original Exorcist movie is occasionally set in Iraq, on site. We don't see much, but the portrayal was human. It made me want to visit, if I ever could.

Exorcist II, meanwhile, LOVES to spend time in "Africa". "Africa" looks like a Tim Burton creation. Everything is orange, everyone is "primitive", and it's impossible to describe how surreal it all is. Like half of the movie is in "Africa", and nothing fucking happens. It's just people being "tribal", drone shots, and screaming.

Oh my god, 90% of this movie's dialogue is screaming. The other 10% is bullshit.

The movie repeats the same senseless shots over and over, just looping the same incoherent images ad nauseum, and nothing matters.

This isn't even scratching the surface of the random, incoherent shit that stumbles into this movie. And the worst part is? It wasn't funny-bad! It was like getting a root canal.

#exorcist ii

[cheryls-blossomed]

Yeah I was excited at the beginning of the season because I heard that we would get more focus on Starfire this season but that hasn’t been the case. This season we’re barely getting anything with her story and yes they are nerfing her powers, Dickkory seem to be a figment of my imagination now. Whereas this annoying Red Hood & Scarecrow story keeps going and going. Red Hood story had potential but all they do is show Jason hooked on drugs, whining and basically being a puppet for Scarecrow. I’m so not caring about Dick & Babs, their ship is so dry and forced. They are just all over the place with these stories and there’s only 3 episodes left and I just feel like Titans are doing a whole bunch of nothing. What happened to Dick? What are they doing with his character? Rachel has been pretty much nonexistent this season. Beast Boy powers are still not being explored. Yet we are constantly giving screen time to guest stars or supporting characters. I feel the Connor/Blackfire ship is rushed. They have good chemistry but still rushed

Exactly! I'm so mad that they promoted this season as Starfire-centric and told Kory fans that we were finally going to get the Kory story-line that we deserve, and then they did a complete 360 and did not in fact do what they told us they would. They utterly baited Kory fans, and I've been waiting the entire season for Kory to get the focus that she deserves. I was so excited for Starfire and Blackfire, but we've barely scratched the surface with Kory and Kom's story arc and the season is nearly over. I wanted an exploration of Kory's history and Tamaran and of her powers. Instead, this season was absolutely not Kory-centric, and the show is downplaying her powers. As a Kory fan, I am utterly frustrated with this show. I want her to get the focus that she deserves. Anna is amazing as Kory, and Kory is such a great character and the clear fan favorite, and yet TPTB want to focus on things nobody cares about.

Dick/Babs was boring as hell, but again, this ship was clearly meant to implode. I've always said that the Titans writers seem to operate from the position that Dick needs to be a certain level of miserable, so Dick/Babs was specifically meant add to his misery. I'm so tired of this. The show needs to move on from this version of Dick. Like it gets tiresome to reset every season and obsess about your protagonist being miserable.

Gar has had barely any development. Rachel has been a raven this whole time, apparently, which while cool, I guess, is also a very convenient way to sideline her. I miss Kory and Rachel, and Kory and Gar. I miss the core four together.

The show's fixation on Jason, and also their portrayal of him are two other things I'm tired about. Comics Jason Todd deserves better, and TPTB really have to reassess their priorities, because I don't understand how they keep making the same mistake in season 3.

And yeah, the Kom/Connor ship had no development and was extremely rushed. But that's par for the course: TPTB waste so much time on literally nothing and then rush through other plot points and relationships. The pacing of the story-telling is just terribly constructed.

#anonymous #replies

[heresathreebee]

Garrote part 12

[Starz Power Diego Jimenez X Jazmine Mann (Black!OC)]

Summary: Healy and the Jimenez’ are gearing up for war. Jazmine’s getting antsy waiting for something to go horribly wrong. Previous Masterlist Next

Rating/Warning(s): Mature (+18 or I call the police). post-coitus fluff, swearing, anxiety, time skip, canon typical violence (I think...?), all plot, gringo using google translate Spanish and half remembered high school classes (sorry in advance), mentions of grooming/pedophilia (don’t worry, Porsche’s OK)

Word count: 2.2k words

Author’s Note(s): yeah so I wrote this back in December and just didn’t have the heart to put it out. I wanted to try and finish the other chapters (thinking I’m gonna wrap up at seventeen chapters) and I couldn’t. I have a problem with finishing anything I start, it never feels strong enough. I’m gonna try not to let that stop me though, promise. 

Waking up in Diego’s arms, Jazmine never expected to feel so calm. Truth be told she didn't really wake up, but drifted in and out of sweet harmonious consciousness to find Diego, whether he was cradling her or sitting up or rubbing her back. She finally managed to convince herself to get out of bed and by then it was already 2 in the afternoon. Diego had his pants and shoes back on but nothing else, so she relaxed a little. 

"You need to eat," he whispered, "come on, get dressed." 

Jazmine blinked slowly. "I need a shower. Maybe a wheelchair, too." 

She didn't miss the proud smirk that suddenly graced his handsome features. As he put on his shirt, Jazmine glanced past him at the open door of the closet. It was empty inside save for a few hangers, but it left a bad taste in her mouth and a lump in her throat. Diego followed her line of sight and said nothing. He let her shower, never more than five feet away (which is exactly how far the shower curtain is to the bathroom door). They ate somewhere family friendly, a pancake house she barely remembered the name of. Her legs still suffered from tremors and her pelvic region ached, but they were good feelings and she tried to make them last as they put a smile on her face. 

~

It's been about a week and Jazmine has seen neither hide nor hair of Haagen and it's starting to worry her. 

The only relief she had been able to accrue these past few days had been Healy's announcement that they had made a huge connection and were in the process of setting up task forces to take Haagen down. Alicia was confident that Haagen knew nothing and was continuing on with business as usual (or so she heard through the grapevine), and even Diego seemed to be relaxed about it. 

That was another thing that bothered her. Diego, relaxed. Diego doing more hands on business and clubbing at all hours of the night. He'd barely said two words to her after coming to the rescue and fucking her silly in front of Haagen. 

Sitting alone in the penthouse, Jazmine scratched at every itch and tugged on every baby hair like her skin was diseased. She didn't want to go outside, she was too afraid of Haagen's next move. She had been texting her mother regularly again just so she wouldn't call and have to explain why she sounded so nervous. It would have taken LaShawn all of ten seconds to realize something was wrong: so why couldn't anybody else see it? 

Maybe she was overreacting. Jazmine drew a hot bath in the jacuzzi sized tub and turned the jets on, finding bubble bath solution and a pink rubber ducky to cradle. The bathroom had a dimmer switch she turned down to near zero and let silky smooth R&B from the 90's wash her worries away. Her fingers worked to squeeze the ducky like a stress ball, and a traitorous part of her brain whispered longing thoughts. 

I wish Diego was here to massage my back.

She shushed her thoughts: at least the bath is perfectly hot. 

She washed her body and spent the better part of the day deep conditioning her hair and shaving her legs just for the hell of it. The music never stopped, it simply rolled from R&B to classic rock and then back again. Miguel checked in only to make sure she ate, and Jazmine managed to convince him to eat with her and play a co-op mobile game for a few hours. She plucked at the listening device in her ear for the thousandth time and decided to just call Healy. 

"Hey can't talk right now," were all the words she got out of him on the second call and then an immediate hang up. 

Jazmine growled and crossed her arms, suddenly reminded she was still wearing nothing but a bathrobe. She slipped into a pair of jeans and a tank top, and feeling bold, she marched up to Diego’s room and swiped a black button down that smelled like him. She tucked it unbuttoned into her pants and swanned up to the penthouse roof with a bottle of wine and one glass. 

She knew she would miss this level of extravagance. Never worrying about paying for rent or for food or selling her time and labor for someone else and next to nothing pay. Jazmine wondered what Diego would say to becoming her sugar daddy after this whole human trafficking business was over, but shook her head and topped her drink off. 

Probably overstayed my welcome, she thinks, that’s why Diego’s been distant lately. 

~

Jazmine was unnaturally quiet on her end, though Healy recognized the tinkling sound of bottle to glass. Probably on her fourth drink if he was counting correctly. No matter– she was safe for now at Diego’s penthouse suite and there were more pressing matters to attend to at the moment. Brasa was leaning over each and every agent sat in the boardroom as if to intimidate them into obeying her every command. She was a good detective, really she was, she just needed to work on trusting the people who trusted her. Her partner Holbrooke was no help at all– selective mutism was a nasty habit to overcome. Brasa had not breathed a word of thanks in Healy’s direction, but he had expected that. This wasn’t about the praise– it was about justice. 

When he could finally break away for coffee and a piss, he sent a text to Alicia. No doubt los hermanos Jimenez would be thrilled with the intel– but what would happen next? 

The safest place for Jazmine right now is Diego’s place, he thought, but for how much longer?

~

An address and a transcribed photograph of the documents they came from. Healy had told them that the most likely scenario for Porsche’s whereabouts was ‘adoption’ by people who did not want any adoption documents to surface later on. The family probably has prestige, they may have lost a child recently and are looking to replace it like a goldfish and hope no one notices. 

It didn’t stop Diego’s trigger finger from inching closer and closer to his gun at every small pump of the breaks. 

“Tranquil, hermano,” Alicia soothed. “We’re almost there. We can kill them after we get la pequena back.” 

Diego sniffed and hopped out of the car as soon as it finally parked. Alicia was right behind him, checking her peripherals on the well lit streets of this upscale neighborhood. It was them two and one guard each, a second car bearing two underlings coming in from the back door and four cars with heavily armed back up around the corner in case things went south. Brother and sister climbed the porch steps idly, slipping their guns back into their hidey spots before knocking on the front door…

~

“Fuck.” 

Jazmine’s phone battery flashed at 3%. She didn’t remember finishing the bottle, but she did really have to pee so she stood up from the pool’s edge to relieve herself. Miguel was asleep on the white leather couches in the living room, mouth open and drooling with his gun on the table. The woman’s steps were a little unsteady and her vision came in waves, but she felt that fuzzy warm buzz and decided she had better not drive. 

She shook the young man awake with a sigh. “Hey, I left something at my apartment. Can you drive me?” 

Miguel pursed his lips. “I don’t think jefe would want–” 

“Please,” she said, “it’s important.” 

Miguel relented, swiping the keys to a Ferrari from the rack by the elevator and handed Jazmine her coat. Just a few more items she couldn't live without. The way Miguel drove meant they were there in no time at all, and every light they passed by in the dark somehow made Jazmine feel lighter, less jittery and anxious. She had Miguel drop her off by the backside of the apartment and climbed the steps alone after insisting she would only be a minute. All of her doors and windows were locked, the place looked exactly as she had left it. 

“Thank god.” 

She had to search for her charger, a sparkly teal thing with a cat and an alligator charm on it. She found it hiding under her bed, then found her way into the bathroom to check on her face in the mirror. Jazmine fingered the black hickeys on her neck, smiling to herself. She caught sight of something white hanging out of the trash and dug it out: her Chicago shirt. Stuffing it into her back pocket next to her phone charger, Jazmine took one last look at her apartment and blew a kiss to it. 

“Bye,” she whispered, peaking into the dark and lingering on the memories she was about to leave behind forever until finally the lock clicked into place. Oh shit, this was the wrong door. Miguel was waiting out back– 

Pop-pop-pop

Gunshots rang out from behind the building, the returning fire was short and stilted, overwhelmed by the repetition of an automatic. Jazmine took to the stairs at the far side of the building and ran down them wishing she was in something other than slippers. Her heart began to pound in her chest and her breath billowed in heavy clouds before disappearing. The second she stepped off of the last stair, she tripped. Her flimsy footwear slid on the thin layer of ice and she fell, her eyes and ears following the clink clink plop noise of her phone literally going down a storm drain. 

She barely had time to scramble back to her feet before she heard tires come screeching around the corner down the street and she stumbled into a run. 

Jazmine wasn’t sure how far she’d gone, and she can’t recall how many streets she turned on, or even if she was being chased at all. Every sound made her jump, and every car coming her way made her anxious. Her lungs burned for air as she finally collapsed against the window of a minimart. There were tears streaming down her cheeks as she pushed the door open to hide among the tiny rows of snacks and gum and cigarettes and refrigerated beverages. The store owner was wearing headphones and didn't bother looking up. Deep breath in. Exhausted, shaking breath out. Jazmine curled tightly around herself to try and calm down before her heart exploded in her chest. 

~

Alicia and Diego have the father on his knees and bloodied. His wife and children are being held upstairs in one of the bedrooms, terrified. Diego wipes at a small spot of blood from his sister's face. 

"Donde esta el bebe?," Diego said, grasping the man's ear and dragging his head back to look at him. "I won't ask you again." 

"What baby?" The man coughed dryly, his eyes nearly swollen shut but still glimmering in fear. "I don't know what you're talking about." 

Alicia kneeled down in her white pantsuit. "The baby you bought from Jeremy Haagen, Mr. Fletcher. A beautiful little girl with dusky hair and big brown eyes. A baby that belongs to us." 

Fletcher squirms under the murderous gaze of los hermanos Jimenez but doesn’t break. 

“You know, Diego,” Alicia said leaning on her brother’s shoulder, “I didn’t see a fourth bedroom.” 

Diego pursed his lips. “So?” 

“So the contract specified a room for our mariposa, and he already has two children. Where’s the other room?” Alicia’s heels clicked as the gear turned in Diego’s head. “I bet la senorita Fletcher might know.” 

“No, please,” he begged, “leave my wife out of this– she’s got nothing to do with this!” 

“So you do know what we’re talking about,” Diego’s aha motion garnered a vague threat with the point of his gun– gold plated, of course. Emeralds in the hilt this time. 

“Secretly adopting a baby girl,” Alicia tsked, kneeling before Fletcher and brandishing a knife, “when you have two perfectly healthy girls of your own? Ay dios mio, what’s the matter? Three’s your lucky number, but your wife doesn’t put out anymore?” 

Fletcher stumbled hard over his words and made next to no sense. One thing that did make it clear through the haze of nonsense struck a nerve with the Jimenezes: “I didn’t know she’d be that young!” 

Alicia exchanged a queasy look with her brother. She had heard of it before: grooming. Usually starts when a girl is anywhere between nine and eighteen. Fletcher continued to ramble, about hiring a nanny and raising the baby anyway since Haagen didn’t do resales. He was probably just trying to get the baby off his hands…

Before Diego could pull the trigger, his phone rang. So did Alicia’s, both projecting the same number from a burner phone and three emojis to designate the caller: Healy. Alicia answered for Diego, jerking her head towards the door and mouthing, ‘I’ll take care of it from here.’ Diego reluctantly slipped outside, glaring at the nosy neighbors in the window who disappeared in a flash. He put the phone to his ear just in time to hear:

“– I need you to get to Nassau now: Jazmine’s in trouble.”

@mental-bycatch @kid-from-new-zealand @1zashreena1 @girlpornparadise @nicke0115 let me know if I missed anybody, I’m sorry it’s been so long

#Diego Jimenez #diego jimenez x oc #three bees writing #Garrote #🐝🐝🐝✒ #Starz Power #angst

[rainythefox]

Nightfall (CH.15)

Synopsis: Pre-Resident Evil 1, slight-AU/Canon Divergence. Claire Redfield comes home to visit her  brother Chris for the holidays but gets caught up in a dangerous game of  cat and mouse with Albert Wesker, the Captain of STARS, after stumbling  upon dark secrets. She can’t call the law; Wesker is the law, and she  can’t tell Chris. She is trapped…Claire/Wesker & Slight Chris/Jill (There’s Wesker & William Bromance too lol). Rated M for smut, language, violence, adult content.

AO3 Link

Chapter 15:Infatuation

Claire was awake when she heard Chris getting ready for work, but she stayed in bed. She didn’t join him for breakfast or a cup of coffee. She didn’t see him off. She just turned over on her side, away from her door where the hallway light creeped through underneath. She had endured a near sleepless night of tosses and turns, the aches in her muscles a stinging reminder of what she had done.

She must’ve fallen asleep for a couple of hours because she awoke to sunshine peeking through the curtains. The sun was out, reflecting off the snow that blanketed the city. Claire got out of bed and did her usual morning ritual: dressing, brushing her teeth, hopelessly trying to come up with a way to escape her grim situation. Funny how that last one had snuck into her daily routine. Her new normal apparently.

Claire made herself toast and orange juice for breakfast but barely touched it. She tried distracting herself with the newspaper, but there wasn’t anything interesting to read in Raccoon Times.

Umbrella Corporation opens new distribution center, creates 600 new jobs

Mayor Warren promises more funding for local orphanage

Kite Bros. expands Downtown travel with new subway tunnel

Clock Tower Plaza puts up traditional Raccoon City Christmas Tree

Even though Chris left her his truck again, she didn’t want to go anywhere. Where would she go? See a friend and potentially drag them into her situation? Try and get help from someone else that was under Wesker’s boot or on his payroll? Raccoon City seemed like an illusion now, a cesspool of collusion and extortion. As though the rose-colored glasses she had once viewed the city in were ripped from her eyes to expose all of the red flags and blood she couldn’t see before.

Besides, she felt bad for the fight she had with her brother last night. Despite Chris overstepping boundaries with his overprotective nature, he was just concerned for her. He knew she was hiding something and was worried. The Redfield siblings only had each other, for nearly nine years now. Chris had sacrificed time and time again for her, to make sure they could stay together, to make sure she could go to college, always making sure she had what she needed over himself. Even when Chris’s behavior got him discharged more than once, he always put her first.

He knew she could take care of herself. He made sure he taught her all he could. Most brothers were protective of their sisters, but Claire wondered if Chris’s...excessiveness was perhaps a form of PTSD from what happened to their parents. Stepping into that guardian role, he went right into the Air Force, just like their parents. He abandoned a normal future to ensure hers, to keep them together, and to somehow get closer to the parents they had lost.

That was why it was hard to stay mad at him. Even if this time he unmindfully didn’t know the danger he was putting them in with his good, albeit intemperate, intentions.

Claire decided she would apologize when Chris got home that evening. And so, she spent the day trying to be productive, to keep her mind from wandering. She studied for a while, and then cleaned the house for a bit, blasting Queen at high volume. However, no matter what she did, she couldn’t keep herself from thinking about not only her situation, but the man that now had her literally pinned under him. She worried what his next scheme for her would be. But she’d be lying to herself if she denied the excitement that also thrummed through her veins. The strange mix made her queasy.

By the time it started getting dark, Claire realized she had wasted most of her day deep in thought, trying to make sense of it all, plotting for a way out, and maybe spending more time than she’d care to admit thinking about what happened between her and Wesker.

Chris would be home soon, so she started dinner. While cooking, she turned on the television to keep her mind focused, but after a few channel changes, a local news station caught her attention with a caption that filled her lungs with ice.

“Raccoon University professor missing, linked to drugging and sexual assault of multiple students.”

Claire turned up the volume, perturbed, because she just knew which professor they were talking about…

“-ow long has this been going on, Alyssa?” asked the anchor.

The news reporter, a pretty, bob-cut blonde, was quick to answer while standing out in the cold in front of Raccoon University, wearing a white coat and a red suit. “I’m being told this may have been happening for over a year now. The RPD are keeping the victims’ identities under wraps at this time, but I do know there are at least four. Dr. Simon Lowery has been missing for a little over 24 hours, having fled after trying to drug a female student at the open house last night. We have yet to get a statement from his wife, but police are saying she had no idea of his behavior. We’ve heard the same testimonies from colleagues. This is one of those -”

Claire clicked the remote. The TV went black, silent. She stared at the screen, a shocked reflection looking back at her. The news story rubbed her wrong. Lowery was a bad man, she knew that much. He would’ve killed her over those documents, would’ve strangled her in the snow when they fought to keep her quiet over stealing whatever it was she had stolen. But not once did she get the feeling he was like that.

She’d bet money that the news story over Lowery was made up to cover up what really happened. She wasn’t sure if Wesker came up with the story or if it was any of his numerous pawns. Didn’t matter. It proved what she already knew, just like the other day when the news covered that Finley guy’s supposed “suicide” in his car. Just as Wesker had told her before, their fates were whatever he decided. Not just their deaths but their legacies, tainting and twisting them, dismantling and disgracing them, like a true god of death.

The city would never know what really happened to Finley and Lowery, whether they deserved their fates or not.

Claire shook out of her thoughts, a chill running over her as she recalled Finley’s head exploding, blood spraying all over the snow. Why had fate led her down that very same path that day?

A smoky, tangy smell pervaded her nostrils. Dinner was burning! Cursing, she raced into the kitchen to save it. The pork chops were burned on one side but other than that, the rest of dinner turned out okay.

Chris came in not long after she had finished cooking, silently walking over to her spot on the couch as she read a book. The couch shifted when he sat down, and so she looked up from the pages. Still in STARS uniform, her older brother scratched the back of his head, uncomfortable but presenting her an apologetic smile. It was hard to stay mad at him with a puppy-dog face like that.

“Hey…”

“Hey,” she mimicked.

“I’m sorry, Sis. About last night. I clearly went overboard. It’s been eating at me all day.”

“Chris, it’s -”

“Let me finish,” he pleaded. “I know you’re an adult. I know you can kick anyone’s ass. I’m overprotective because of what happened to Mom and Dad.”

She sighed. “I know.”

“But that’s no excuse to act the way I did. I trust you, Claire. And I believe in you. But I get so...obsessed with making sure you’re safe and-and fine that my stupid brain can’t see anything else! I let it get the better of me too much. So, from now on, I’ll work hard to keep myself from going overboard and to trust you more. N-Not that I haven’t trusted you! You’ve never given me a reason to doubt you. It’s stupid of me to act like you have. We’ve always had that unspoken pact that we can tell each other anything and it will always stand.”

Claire shifted uncomfortably in her spot. “A-Always.”

“I love you, Sis. I’m really sorry.”

The Redfield siblings were both stubborn and proud, and so sometimes it was Chris who apologized first and sometimes it was Claire. Although Chris usually gave in before she did. Despite that, this was still pretty soon for Chris to give in, as big as a fight they had. Claire wondered if something happened at work that made Chris come to his senses faster. Maybe Jill talked to him? Wouldn’t be the first time. She was her brother’s best friend, after all.

She decided it wasn’t important for now. She had been ready to apologize to her brother when he got home, and here he was apologizing as well. She was ready to put the whole fight behind them and move on...as best as she could in her predicament anyway. At least Chris had seemingly given up pushing her for answers. What a lucky break! Jill must’ve really lined him out.

Claire hugged Chris. “I’m sorry too, Bro. Love you!”

His strong arms wrapped around her and squeezed hard. For years growing up, it had been the safest feeling in the world. She always cherished it. Soon they pulled away, and got up to eat dinner.

William paced, flipping through pages, catching important details and logging them away at a rate far faster than the average person. Wesker leaned against the wall, dressed in his STARS attire, watching him pace a trench in front of him. Always calm, always collected. How did he do it?!

The cable car shuddered, flicking the light overhead as it rose to the surface. He hated taking this hunk of junk! Normally, he didn’t have to, but they were meeting Irons in the sewers. Perfect place to find the slimy rat.

“No! Goddamn it, no! Why? They said Sheena Island was strictly testing and experimentation! That old bastard is moving my Hunter research there without my consent, and now the Tyrants? Mass production on a prototype? Even if they perfect the Epsilon strain, it’s nowhere near ready for cloning!”

“Are you truly all that surprised?” Wesker asked.

“No, I just…” William sighed. “It’s shit like this that tells me Spencer has no plans to put me on the executive board! If I don’t get in there, we’ll never be able to fulfill our plans! And there’s no way in hell I’m bartering the G-Virus for that spot. It’s my legacy, mine to completely control. He’ll have to pry it from my cold, dead fingers!”

“Best not tempt fate, old friend.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“At any rate, your tantrum is premature. With those numbers, the Sheena Island facility won’t be operable for any kind of mass production until August at the earliest. The research team on the Epsilon strain knows that the T-002 will be obsolete by the time it is finished. More than likely a new model is being developed and that will be the one they intend to manufacture. We have time to take this knowledge and use it to our advantage later.”

Birkin snorted. Lately Al’s “optimism” gave him anxiety. "Don’t you think we have our fingers in too many pies already? And toes at this rate. We’re wearing ourselves thin, Al. With too many enemies waiting for us to screw up.”

It was a reasonable concern. Sheena Island’s true motives were still mostly top-secret for now, going by this information sent by Alex. Roth must’ve bought this information from this other cohort of his, and was probably trying to haggle deals with Mueller, Lowery, and Bard. As well as Crawford and Finley. William made a mental note to thank Alex for this later. Wesker may have been a member of the Umbrella Intelligence Division as well, but he meticulously watched his dealings, aware of Spencer’s tabs on him. Alex didn’t have this problem, and so was their go-to source of anything they weren’t privy to.

His partner scowled. “That is such an absurd idiom. Regardless, we are committed at this point. Roth still has our stolen data and the plans for Sheena Island directly affects our goals. You admitted it yourself.”

The cable car shook and screeched, sliding to a halt. The light above the door turned green, and the robotic female voice told them to watch their step and have a good day. No, he would certainly not have a good day! He was having to deal with this and was about to meet a big rat in a stinky sewer. Didn’t the stupid voice know that? How insensitive!

“Yeah, I know. Guess we better be careful how we handle this.”

Wesker and William exited the cable car and walked side by side through the sewer facility. There weren’t many workers, but they all gave them a wide berth, keeping their heads down.

Wesker chuckled to himself, but William heard it over the water pumps and machinery.

“What’s so funny?”

“Just acknowledging that your prolonged bout of paranoia has made us change places. I’m usually the one telling you we need to be careful.”

They were both ruthless and ambitious, but Wesker had more patience and control. And although his back-and-forth stints of paranoia did make him more cautious, Will still hadn’t developed the patience or control that his partner had always had.

If only you knew why...what he’s making me do…

William frowned, rubbing his shoulder and quickly cleared his throat. “Well, no wonder you're so optimistic lately, taking after me. Like a little ball of sunshine!"

His partner didn’t respond to that, and William hoped it wasn’t because he had caught his nervous tic. In case he did, he quickly changed the subject. “So, did you get the kind of reaction out of Ada you were expecting?”

“More or less. I’m still annoyed by how you handled it though.”

“Look, you asked me to bring Claire up in a way to get a reaction from Ada to see if your suspicions were right and I did just that! You’re welcome, by the way!”

They reached the monitor room where they were meeting with Chief Irons. William entered first, and the Chief immediately noticed him, an Umbrella mercenary on each side of him. His pudgy eyes squinted testily and he opened his mouth to start his usual complaining. That is, until Wesker entered right behind him. His mouth quickly snapped shut. Ah, the benefits of having Al around!

Irons glanced around the room, his usual air of arrogance belittled and squashed like a bug. But there was nowhere to run in this room, nothing to protect him. He was at their mercy, but the tough-as-nails Irons wouldn’t be one to break so easily.

He half-laughed, half-snorted, attempting to cover his discomfort. “Now this must be a special occasion if you're both here. Rumor has it when you two are together, someone's going to die...or wish they would."

"Well, funny thing about rumors, Brian," William smirked. "There’s always some truth to them."

It was fun seeing the color drain from his face only to completely flush red like a cherry. He glared their way, fists forming tightly at his sides. "Oh yeah? And how exactly am I on you two assholes' shit list today? Considering all I do is cover your goddamn tracks and provide you with security all hours of every fucking day. Wait, don't tell me, you two have a rehearsed good cop, bad cop routine just for me?" He laughed. "No thanks."

Will nudged Albert. "Damn it, he guessed it! Wait, am I bad cop this time? I forget?"

"I'm always bad cop."

"No fair! We should take turns!"

Irons rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. "Just get to the point of why I'm here. If we're negotiating new deals, it's a bad time. I'm a busy man, after all."

"Funny you should mention that, Chief," Wesker sneered. "We're done negotiating with you."

The Umbrella mercs pulled their guns on the Chief. Irons froze on the spot, eyes bulging and going to the trained weapons, and this time he turned a bit green.

“Listen, Albert...let’s not get too hasty. Let’s talk like gentlemen. I-I’m sure we can come to an agreement.”

His resolve was cracking slowly, but William wouldn’t count the bastard out just yet. Irons had grown complacent in his position, taking advantage of anything he could get his grubby hands on. William and Wesker had allowed much of this behavior to slide in the knowledge that Irons would eventually get himself into a bind. And that’s where he was now.

“Of course, Brian. I am a sophisticated man, after all. Take a seat.”

The Chief of Police looked relieved at that and pulled out a chair and sat down. The Umbrella mercenaries stood at his back, guns still aimed to the back of his head. William and Albert sat down across from him.

William slid a sealed yellow envelope across the table to Irons. “Open it and take a good, hard look, Brian.”

Irons wiped his mustache, a little sweat forming on his brow. He slowly opened the envelope and sifted through the contents. Each page he flipped through he grew a shade whiter, until he was pasty like a ghost.

“What the fuck is this?”

William leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head. “Oh, I don’t know. You tell us.”

Irons trembled in his chair, both from anger and fear. He flushed again, one fat fist crinkling a page and he quickly stood. “You fucking bastards!”

One merc’s gun barrel pressed into Irons’ skull and he quickly remembered his place. He slowly sat down. He sure was sweating a lot now!

“You put yourself in this situation, Brian,” Wesker stated. “You know I keep tabs on you and yet you got sloppy. Arrogant, too, thinking you’d be able to set me up.”

“Your sick fantasies with the mayor’s daughter will be released to the public. Your replacement has already been chosen. You will die,” William continued.

“No! No, please! We can come to an agreement!”

“There are no more agreements to come to, Brian,” Wesker growled. “Just two choices. You can die like William so eloquently stated or you can sell the remainder of your pathetic soul to our cause.”

And unsurprisingly, the Chief went with the option that kept his sorry ass alive. “Deal! You got it!”

“And just so we’re clear. That -” William motioned to the envelope. “- never goes away. This is your last chance. Next time...well...there won’t be a next time. Just you dead and your dirty secrets exposed for all to see. Never forget how replaceable you are, Brian.”

Irons slowly nodded, guarded. “And exactly what are you two going to want me to do for your “cause”?”

“You will still perform your normal duties for Umbrella, and only report to me,” Wesker explained. “But if William and I tell you to do something, you do it. Even if it goes against your orders from Umbrella.”

“Fine.”

“William will be taking over as your handler. You should thank him. It was my intention to kill you tonight and he convinced me otherwise. If he asks you to perform in the circus, I expect you to clap your flippers and balance that ball without any disinclination. Do I make myself clear?”

Irons ground his jaw and stiffly nodded. “You always do, Albert.”

William sat up a little straighter, a haughty grin spreading. Albert’s protectiveness of him always gave him a feeling of empowerment, feeding his ego, and made a darker part of himself more bold, more ambitious.

“Don’t worry, Brian,” Will said with a fake, friendly smile. “You do a good job and stay on my good side, I always pay really well, way more than Al does.” He added a postscript after seeing the Chief’s interested grin. “Get on my bad side, however, and you’ll be my newest experiment...just ask Lowery.”

The Police Chief’s relief was short-lived. The mention of Lowery’s name struck something in him. He scowled, stiffening once more, looking between the two partners in crime.

“So you two were behind what happened at the university?”

“Oh yes,” William bragged. “Which is partly how we found out about your little attempt to set up Albert.”

“Which brings us to our next order of business, Brian,” Albert added. “Who was with you when you met up with Aaron Roth?”

Irons shook his head, hands on the table, still aware of the guns at his back. “Look, Lowery and Bard paid me to keep their business dealings hush-hush. I think they were trying to coerce Mueller into selling key information on his project in exchange for getting some crucial research going down on some island.”

Will sighed. “Don’t make Al repeat himself, ya idiot.” He snapped his fingers. “His name? Who is he?”

“S-Some bigshot from Europe who works on this island. He’s partners with Roth, buying and selling research within Umbrella and other companies. Goes by Stefan Bennett, but I couldn’t tell you if that’s his real name or not.”

When Will glanced at Al, a subtle flex in his shoulder was all he needed to read him. Bennett wasn't anyone known to them.

"Where are they hiding out?"

Irons shrugged. "Don't know. I'm only being paid for their meetings. Bennett will be at Bard’s annual Christmas party. I don't know if Roth will be there. He acted like he had other plans."

Like selling my research, the bastard...

"Then I suppose a meeting with Nathaniel Bard is in order," Wesker announced, sunglasses glinting under the fluorescents as he looked to William with a dark grin.

William returned his partner's smirk. "Yeah...It's party time."

(photo by IsmaelUchihaSan)

It was the perfect day for Jill to be off, or not have her shift until the evening anyway. Late morning, while Chris was stuck at the RPD, the girls enjoyed a light brunch and lattes at a quaint coffee shop before doing some last minute Christmas shopping.

Claire always enjoyed hanging out with the older woman. They had a lot in common and Claire was always learning something new with her company. She often found herself wondering if her oaf of a brother would ever romantically ask Jill out. It seemed like everyone could see it but them. Then again, perhaps they didn’t pursue their feelings because of their careers. Claire didn’t know the policies of STARS, but there might be restrictions there.

The two of them picked up Claire’s gift she had bought for Chris and took it over to Jill’s house. The box was tall and rectangular, about the size of a small adult. Though bulky, it wasn’t as heavy as it looked, and with each of them on one end, was able to carry it easily into the home.

They were greeted by Jill’s overly affectionate golden retriever, Bella. Claire flopped onto the floor to properly greet the fluffy, blond dog. Jill giggled at the sight.

“Hell of a guard dog, ain’t she?” Jill joked. “She’ll lick you to death.”

Better than getting my throat ripped out by Wesker’s dog…

Claire pushed aside that unpleasant memory and stood back up. Hard to believe that was only a few days ago. Her hand was already a lot better, but her ankle still hurt like a bitch.

They carried the box into Jill’s other bedroom that doubled as an office and home gym. The STARS Alpha member’s house was a three bedroom, two bath. She assumed the third bedroom was a guest room, but Claire wasn’t sure. Chris’s house was a bit bigger, with three bathrooms. They had their own in their bedrooms and then the guest bathroom in the hallway.

“Thanks for keeping this here for a bit, Jill.”

“No problem. I guess my home is the popular choice to hide gifts. Chris has yours here as well. I’m just waiting for Barry to ask to keep the girls’ gifts here, as if they don’t have enough space in that big house of theirs.”

“Well, you know how Moira is. She gets into everything. They can’t hide any gifts from her! She’s gonna be a handful as a teenager!”

They laughed and returned to the living room, Bella trailing behind them. Jill fetched them some water and the girls took a load off on the sofas.

“The punching bag was a good thought,” Jill declared. “I know Chris has been wanting one.”

Claire nodded, smiling as she watched Bella carry around her favorite plush duck toy. “Yeah. He’s been really wanting to start bulking up more. Although when we were playing on his guitar last night, I realized he needs a new toolkit for it. So I might have to go pick up one of those as well.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot you play too. Why haven’t I got to see you play yet? I’ve watched Chris lots of times.”

Claire shrugged. “I guess we just never think about it when I'm visiting.” The Redfield siblings didn’t mind playing guitar in front of others, but they cherished playing together, reciting notes and melodies their father had played for them when they were young. “Chris told me you played piano? I need to see that!”

Claire didn’t get the piano at all. That was entirely different from the guitar.

Jill softly laughed. “Yeah. It’s ingrained from childhood. Had the meanest instructor ever. Chris jokes that playing the piano won’t ever do me any good, and suggests I learn something else.”

“He’s just jealous,” Claire joked.

Jill laughed at that. “He totally is. You know, I’m happy you two reconciled so quickly. Chris can be so stubborn sometimes.”

“He can be, but I’m not one to talk. Whatever you said to him, it must’ve worked. So thank you for that. I know he’s just trying to look out for me, but it gets old. I’m an adult and can take care of myself.”

The older woman furrowed her brows and shook her head. “It wasn’t me.”

“Huh? It wasn’t?”

“No, it was the Captain.”

Her heart flipped, twisting her lungs to where she choked on air before she could take a drink of her water. It took all in Claire’s power to keep a straight face and feign something catching in her throat. “I’m sorry?”

“The fight you two had upset Chris a lot, affected his performance when we were doing some training. I guess Wesker picked up on it. Apparently, they took a long lunch together, and the Captain helped Chris get his head straight. At least, that’s what Chris told me later.”

Claire was completely freaked out by that information but hid it, wiping her suddenly clammy hands on her pants. She drank half of her water in one gulp and squeezed the bottle so hard it crumpled in the middle.

“O-Oh, I figured it was you.”

“Not this time,” Jill answered. “But it wasn’t without a lack of trying. He just didn’t listen. Not until he had gone too far anyway, the ass. At least Wesker got through to him.”

“Yeah…” she cleared her throat and stood up. “Well, I should get going. I don’t want to take up all of your free time and I have some studying to do. Thanks for helping me pick that up and letting me hide it here.”

It was partially true. Claire didn’t want to take up all of Jill’s day off before she had to go in for night shift. But mostly the recent news had unsettled her and she needed to gather her thoughts on the matter.

Jill smiled, nodding as she patted Bella on the head as the retriever’s big brown eyes stared up at Claire with that duck still in her mouth, tail thumping hard on the hardwood floor.

“No problem, Claire.”

“Stay safe tonight, Jill.”

“You’re not on the schedule...again.”

Ada sighed, crossing her arms and looking at the guard like he was stupid. He was. “I know that. But that won’t matter. William will still see me.”

The guard shifted uncomfortably, studying her suspiciously and then glancing at his list again. “Dr. Birkin is an extremely busy man. He’s been doing important tests all day and asked me to not allow anyone but Mrs. Dr. Birkin and Dr. Wesker entry. I’m sorry, ma’am.”

“I’m here on behalf of Albert. He’s busy at the police department currently. Just give him a ring and you’ll see.”

The guard hesitated, thinking and unsure. Clearly, he was scared to disturb his boss in the middle of his important work.

Ada smiled flirtatiously at him. “C’mon, Johnny. Help a girl out? It’s important.” She winked.

Johnny sighed. “Oh, alright.” He put a hand to his headset. “Dr. Birkin? I’m sorry to bother you, but Ms. Wong insists on seeing you. She says she’s here on behalf of Dr. Wesker.”

The spy didn’t miss how the camera up in the corner of the hallway turned down their way, aiming the attached machine gun right on their faces, blinking red light a far deadlier version of Candid Camera.

“Yes, sir. I understand. Will do,” Johnny said into his headpiece. He nodded at Ada and stepped aside. “You may enter. But please, keep it short. He has much to do.”

Ada waved him off. “Thanks, Johnny.”

She went through the automatic door, was sprayed down again, and strolled through the large, multi-room laboratory. She turned a corner, saw bright yellow and outstretched arms, and, on reflex, kicked the thing away from her.

“Ow!” came a muffled voice.

“Will, you idiot. Don’t sneak up on me like that,” Ada snapped.

The mad scientist pulled the hazmat suit’s helmet off, waddling over to the nearby safety station to strip it off and hang it up.

“I think that’s the closest I’ve ever gotten to scaring you!” William laughed.

Ada crossed her arms, glaring at him. “You didn’t scare me. You didn’t even startle me. You mildly annoyed me.”

“Ugh, you sound like Al. One day I will scare him. It’s on my bucket list. It might get me killed, but imma do it!”

The spy shook her head. “I don’t know about you sometimes.”

Birkin seemed extra...quirky today. He had an extra bounce in his step, grinning, humming as he left the safety station to his main desk. That’s when Ada noticed numerous empty energy drink cans and half a cup of cold, forgotten black coffee.

“How many of these have you had?” He did kind of look like one of those zombies Ada had seen being dissected in the Arklay lab, pale skin and dark circles under his eyes.

“Uhh…” he pondered, counting on his fingers as he twitched and quivered restlessly. “Five? I think?” He flopped down in his chair, shifting it side to side.

Ada leaned against his desk, glancing at the disorganized paperwork strewn about. Her sharp eyes caught many interesting and familiar things: G-Virus, Plant 43, Hunter Beta, Cerberus, NE-Alpha parasite, Lisa Trevor, T-Virus Epsilon. Then her eyes caught the interesting things that she had only seen once and was curious to find out more, now with associated words that intrigued her further: Prototype Virus, Project W, eugenics research, Progenitor, Ndipaya.

She had only a few seconds of absorbing these words before William snatched up the two papers that had anything on it. She watched him open his safe and put them inside, only accessible with a scan of his hand.

Ada acted like none of it interested her. “Five, huh? And how long have you been up, exactly? You look like shit. You smell like shit.”

William lifted his shirt and smelled. “I don’t know, when did Al and I go talk with Irons?"

“That was yesterday morning.”

“Oh...shit. Well, it’s been over 24 hours then.”

“I can tell.”

“So, how’d it go with Mueller?”

“As well as you’d expect. I’ve already relayed the info to Albert. Mueller won’t be a problem. In fact, he’s willing to help if it gets rid of Roth. I guess he feels scammed by the trade.”

William smirked, still swiveling slightly side to side in his chair. “I bet he does. Well, with Lowery no longer having a tongue and Irons and Bard put in their places, looks like we might be able to wrap this up by Christmas!”

Ada rapped her nails on the desk, frowning. “Albert told me the plan. Look, between you and me, I gotta ask...what’s the deal with him and Claire?”

Will chuckled. “What’s wrong? You jealous?”

“In your dreams. It’s just that...I mean, I don’t know the girl,” she lied. “But I thought he was just using her to get to Roth. Why have a fling with her? He doesn’t do that...at least not with just anyone.”

“You sure are a curious little kitty,” William half-joked, half-warned, leaning back in his chair. “What are you hoping to use this knowledge for?”

Ugh, she hated when he was an asshole. Then again, he was protecting Albert and so she should’ve known better. The spy sighed. “Fine. I’m just a little worried about Claire, alright? Can you blame me?”

She knew how Wesker worked. Claire was in way over her head. Didn’t matter how smart and strong she was. Despite being his type, she was still different than most and he did seem to have some kind of soft spot for her. And that is what both bothered and intrigued Ada.

“It’s not like you to worry about others like that. And I can blame you, actually. You got yourself tangled with Al. That’s on you.”

Ada bit her tongue. This wasn’t about her. “And poor Claire got tangled out of her control. C’mon, Will. I’ve helped you two a lot recently. Throw me a bone here. I deserve something in return.”

Will kept a straight face, thinking it over. Ada glared at him. Finally, the Golgotha creator grinned widely and leaned forward. Ada recognized the child-like delight, and knew he was about to spill the beans.

“Alright, alright! I think he has feelings for her.”

Ada laughed skeptically. “Whatever, Will! Tell me for real.”

She had to admit, she had thought something similar a few days ago when she spied Wesker nearly pinning Claire against his car. But she soon dismissed it. He definitely liked her and was attracted to her…but had feelings for her?! That was a little hard to believe.

“I do! He is obsessed, I’m telling you. The girl would’ve been dead a long time now had it been anyone else. He’s given her more chances than I’ve ever seen. He had the chance to pop her brother in the back without anyone knowing and didn’t do it! I don’t think he knows it himself, or he purposely keeps himself in denial, but...there’s something about her.”

Ada frowned, thinking it over. William had a point. All of Claire’s stunts to try and fight Albert should have ended with her dead a long time ago. And how her brother had been getting suspicious and snooping around, well, it should have ended the same with him by now.

“You think she reminds him of Anezka?” Ada asked.

Was that her name? Ada couldn’t really remember. She wasn’t around back then and had only heard all the different stories when she came here a couple of years ago.

“Nah...I mean they’re both redheads and feisty, but I don’t think that’s it. Anna jilted him, and besides being a little touchy over it, he’s moved on.”

“Is that really what happened?”

William shrugged. “I guess? No one really knows...not even Al.”

Ada wished she had been a fly on that wall when Anezka was still around. So many rumors and gossip about what happened. She practically disappeared, as though she was only a dream. But Albert remembered...resentfully. Ada knew him well enough that it wasn’t just his ego that got hurt. He actually had cared for her, and he hated that he did.

“Well, Albert’s given Claire all these chances to let her live. You think he will let her go when Roth is dealt with, as he has promised her?”

William scowled, leaning back in his chair. “What do you think?”

The double agent had no idea why, but her heart sank a little. As if she was hoping for something she knew better of. And here she thought her line of work had snuffed out all remaining optimism in her life.

“He won’t kill her. I guarantee it,” William boasted. “As obsessed and possessive he already is of her, she’s stuck. There will be conditions he gives her. I’m sure you know what those would be.”

“You sound happy about that,” Ada pointed out.

He shrugged, but the slight upcurve of his lips gave him away. “I like the girl. Sherry adores her. She’s proven to be quite resourceful and clever. She’ll be handy to have around. Besides, if Al actually has feelings for her, I gotta see where it goes! The geneticist in me really hopes he knocks her up.”

It may have sounded like a dark joke, but Ada knew the lunatic genius was dead serious. “I’m really disturbed by how obsessed you are with your best friend’s love and sex life.”

“I’m just looking out for him!”

Ada would never understand Wesker and William’s relationship. One of life’s greatest mysteries. But what was also another mystery still was why Wesker had feelings for Claire.

Was she the next Anezka?

She parked right down the road. It was already nearly dark, but at least the temperature hadn’t dropped too much. Claire stuck to the recently salted sidewalks, hands stuffed in her parka. Her heart pounded in her throat, and her mind raced with what he could want this time.

Wesker called her while she was waiting for Chris to get off work, summoning her to his house for an “important discussion”. She was anxious for two reasons. One, the last time she saw Wesker just a couple nights ago, they had sex. And two, after learning from Jill that Wesker was the one who dealt with Chris, she wasn’t sure what that meant for her or her brother.

She was queasy, butterflies in her stomach, but she wasn’t about to lose her cool. More than anything, she feared her body would betray her once more, a dark excitement coursing through her blood.

Upon reaching Wesker’s house, Claire spotted a vehicle she didn’t recognize in his driveway. She didn’t get too close to it, but it looked like a ruby-colored Porsche Boxster. She didn’t know whether to be relieved or not about not being alone with the STARS Captain, but she took a deep breath and rang the doorbell anyway.

After a minute of silence, anticipation eating at her, the door opened. Her heart skipped when those familiar grey-blue eyes and dark smirk greeted her. Her stomach twisted, but Claire couldn’t tell whether it was from disgust or excitement.

“Good evening, Claire,” he purred. He stepped aside to allow her entry. “Please do come in. I don’t want you catching a cold.”

She rolled her eyes and stepped inside. “Thanks.”

He shut the door while she looked around. Odin padded over and sniffed her, docked tail wagging slightly. But she didn’t see anyone who could’ve owned the car outside.

Wesker’s hands brushed up her back. The bad thing was Claire realized she didn’t blench this time. No, this time she shivered in pleasure. She inwardly scolded herself as he took her coat off to hang by the door.

“We have much to discuss, dear heart,” he said, one muscular arm locking around her waist and pulling her deeper inside the house.

That’s when the younger Redfield saw a familiar face come into the living room from the kitchen, carrying a full glass of red wine. She nearly blurted Ada’s name, surprised, but quickly bit her tongue, hiding any reaction. Wesker didn’t know that she and Ada had already met personally. And it needed to stay that way.

“I sure hope you weren’t saving that malbec wine for a special occasion, Albert. I helped myself,” Ada said. When her eyes landed on Claire, she was the perfect actress. There was no recognition, no subtle signs given to Claire. “Is this her?”

“The one and only,” Wesker affirmed.

Ada took a long sip of her wine and sat it down on a coaster on the center table before walking over to them. Wesker stepped away while the double agent looked Claire over, one arm crossed and one hand on her chin as she thought. She walked around Claire and even grabbed her arms and lifted them and spun her around.

“Hmm...Yes, I can definitely work with this.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Claire grumbled. Ada spun her around again and grabbed at her hair. “Hey! What’s the big idea?!”

“Hold still, hun.”

Ada withdrew a tailor tape measurer. She measured Claire’s waist, chest, and height, even her arms and legs. Afterwards, she yanked Claire’s ponytail out and felt through her tresses.

“What are you doing?” Claire snapped.

“Taking measurements,” Ada replied. “Trying to figure out what to do with your hair.”

“Why?”

“I’ll explain later,” Wesker stated. His Doberman sat at his side, head cocked curiously as Ada got handsy with her measurements.

“Okay, finished,” Ada announced, rolling up her tape and putting it in her pocket. She retrieved her wine and took another drink. “I’ll have something ready by tomorrow.”

“What ready?” Claire demanded. “What’s going on?”

Wesker’s lips barely curled upward. “Oh, where are my manners? Claire, this is an associate of mine, Ada Wong. She originally was to pick you up at the university. Ada, you know Claire, I’ve told you all about her.”

The Eurasian beauty dipped her head. “Charmed.” Still completely in character, although Claire now saw something subtle in her eyes as she stared at Claire. Perhaps a warning? Or just acknowledgement?

“You too...I guess,” Claire said.

Wesker chuckled, catching their attention. “You do not have to pretend to be strangers on my account, ladies. I know you’re well acquainted.”

Claire ground her jaw, glaring at him. Ada didn’t even flinch, expressionless. Taking another sip of her wine, she shrugged.

“Can’t pull the wool over your eyes, can I Albert?”

“Oh come now, Ada, don’t be that way,” Wesker teased. He obviously sensed something from her that Claire didn’t. He stepped around the agent’s back and, besides her tensing barely, she didn’t look disconcerted. “You knew the risks when you decided to meet Claire behind my back.”

Ada didn’t say anything to that. Wesker’s dark grin grew a bit more.

“I’m quite curious of your intentions. You’re not the jealous type. And you’re not one to have concern for others. So why so curious about Claire? I know this has nothing to do with what Sergei asked of you.”

Jealous type? Claire glanced between them, not sure what kind of undertones she was reading here. She was missing something, that’s for sure. She could only infer that Wesker was gauging Ada for something.

“I was just curious what you saw in her, I guess,” Ada dismissed calmly.

Cool under pressure. Just like the man testing her.

“And did you figure it out?”

Ada’s eyes locked with Claire’s. “I think so.”

Wesker’s soft chuckle told them he didn’t believe her one bit. “You and William should give up trying to find something that isn’t there.”

Ada didn’t have to say anything. Her smile told it all. She was pleased somehow, as though she read deeper into Wesker’s words somehow. Claire wished she would tell her the secret. And also shake this weird feeling in her chest.

“Am I going to get filled in here on why she needed to take my measurements?” Claire grumbled.

“Yes, my apologies,” Wesker admitted, his full attention on her now, and the younger woman regretted saying anything. “Ada, you may go now. I’ll fill Claire in…” He smirked.

Oh god. Did he just…? Her stomach pitched and rolled. She knew what would happen once Ada left them alone. In his house. It was an instant body verses mind battle.

Ada shrugged and walked away. Claire never wanted someone to stay and leave all at once before. But the Eurasian woman plopped down on one of the leather sofas instead, resuming drinking her wine. Odin left his master’s side to plant himself in front of her, as if expecting Ada to give him attention now that she was sitting down. Claire released a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

Wesker scowled. “Or…make yourself at home.”

“I will,” Ada answered nonchalantly. “I’m not about to let this delicious wine go to waste.” She made a show of swishing the red liquid around in her glass. The wine complimented her burgundy fingernails.

Claire caught the agent’s honey brown eyes as she looked right at her while sipping from her lipstick-stained glass, a coded message for her. You’re welcome…

Claire swallowed mixed feelings and glared at the STARS Captain. “So what exactly are you making me do this time?”

“Relax dear heart, it’s nothing you’re a stranger to. We’re going to attend a party.”

His stereotypical college girl jab aside, it sounded easy enough. But Claire knew better. Whatever kind of party it was, with Wesker involved, there would be danger, deception, and death at every angle…

Claire stared at the mirror, stunned. She wasn’t one to get dressed up, not this fancy anyway. Her red-brown hair was pulled up into messy curls with a few tresses hanging around her face. She had more make-up on than what she was used to. The jade-colored halter dress complimented her hair, eyes, and heels. She was only in the shoes for less than half an hour and her feet were already cramping. How did women wear these things all day?

The two assistants Ada had helping her with Claire were finally finished and departed from the big, spotless, and up-to-date bathroom. They were in Wesker’s living quarters in NEST. The younger Redfield tried not to think about what happened the last time she was here. Wesker and William awaited them in the very same room where she and Wesker fornicated, only having arrived a bit ago while Claire was still being made over.

Ada looked her over one last time, one final judgment for approval. Claire didn’t say anything. She really wanted out of this bathroom, but at the same time, she wasn’t ready for the next step.

Apparently, the crooked STARS Captain had meticulously planned tonight. Chris and Jill were working graveyard shifts while he was off and Claire had to tell her brother that she might would have to stay the night at William’s house babysitting Sherry if her parents had to work all night. All the chess pieces were in place so far. Bard’s Christmas party would last well into the night, and depending on how it played out, they might be there awhile. She could only hope nothing went wrong and would get to return home tonight.

“You’re a beautiful woman, Claire. There’s no doubt about that,” Ada said finally.

“T-Thanks.” She wasn’t expecting a compliment from the older woman.

She looked in the mirror again, distracted. This was a little too much for her, but she had to blend in with the other guests at the party.

“I won’t be surprised if Albert takes you home with him tonight after the party.”

Claire blushed, taken off guard, a near panic in her chest only broken by blood rushing like electricity through her veins. She turned to the double agent, holding her breath. Ada sounded so sure as she looked Claire over. As if she knew something the younger Redfield didn’t. Surely, Ada didn’t know…

“I know what happened between you two,” Ada admitted, reading her mind.

“He,” Claire started to blame her captor, but stopped. Could she honestly say it knowing she had decided to do it? Wesker may have manipulated her into wanting to, but she still chose it all her own, no matter how much she wanted to deny it.

“He what?”

She shook her head. “…Nothing.”

“I told you he always gets what he wants, didn’t I? He’ll make you want it, too. That tongue of his is far more deadly than any weapon he has on him. You have no idea how way in over your head you are, Claire.”

The college student glared at the Eurasian beauty. Was she serious right now?! “You’ve got it all wrong! It was just a one time fling. And as far as the rest of my situation goes, I think I’ve been doing pretty damn good considering!”

Ada sighed. “You’re clever, strong, and resourceful. You’ve handled yourself impressively this past week, but that’s partly why Albert’s so infatuated with you.”

Claire frowned, not sure what to say to that.

“Albert’s hardwired to manipulate and take advantage of anyone and anything he can. You give him an inch and he’ll hook his claws so deep in you, there’s no escape. You gave him way more than that.”

“So what? I’m trapped forever now? Is that what you’re saying?” Dread seized in her chest.

Ada looked to the door, as if suddenly paranoid Wesker and William could be listening in and slightly lowered her voice. “I don’t know. Look…yes, he’s using you to take care of Roth in exchange for your freedom, but William and I suspect that Albert may have developed…”

“What?” Claire urged when the agent trailed off.

Ada quickly shook her head, frowning. “Never mind. Just…keep your head. Do what you must to get Roth where Albert wants him for you and your brother’s freedom. Albert’s got a soft spot for you, he’ll likely keep his word if you’re good. As far as this affair is concerned, I cannot help you. That’s your business. My only advice is that you be careful.”

Soft spot? Where the hell was she getting that? There was nothing soft about that man. Then again, she and William, two people who knew Wesker best, kept saying that, so it had to be true to some degree.

Claire wanted to tell Ada that there wasn’t an “affair”. It was a one time slip up, a mistake, it wouldn’t happen ever again. But she couldn’t even believe herself, so there was no way she would convince the double agent.

“Ok…thank you, Ada. For everything.”

Ada exhaled through a small frown. “Don’t thank me just yet…” She turned, walking for the door and motioning for the younger Redfield to follow her. “C’mon, we have a party to get to.”

Claire inhaled deeply, gathering herself, and followed her out of the bathroom. They came into the den, where Wesker and William sat across from each other on the leather sofas talking. They were dressed in posh black suits. Claire berated herself for goggling Wesker. The bastard was so damn attractive anyway, but that suit was hot! She couldn’t believe how much it actually affected her seeing him in that outfit.

The men noticed them and stood up, but their eyes immediately went to Claire. She suddently felt exposed. William’s jaw dropped and he ogled too. The smirk that slowly grew on Wesker’s face as he took off his sunglasses to look Claire over was wicked. More so, it was hungry. He popped William’s mouth shut without taking his eyes off of Claire and closed in like a predator about to sink its teeth into its coveted prey. His eyes entrapped her, an instant, breath-taking spell, and then she was hungry too, felt it spreading through every inch of her body like wildfire.

Ada was right…Wesker would be taking her home with him tonight. And nothing was going to stop him.

#resident evil #resident evil fanfic #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil 2 #Albert Wesker #Claire Redfield #clairexwesker #claire x wesker #William Birkin #Chris Redfield #chris x jill #Jill Valentine #Ada Wong #fanfiction #fanfic #My writing #archive of our own

[clumsyclifford]

Okay, here is the Cake prompt.“You are/he is the embodiment of actual sunshine.”. You can write angst, fluff, AU, canon. This Cake prompt is now yours to create something new out of. Thanks for always being up for a challenge. Hugs! - 🕷

spidey anon, i sincerely apologize for the delay. but i hope you will accept this (fluff!) as retribution, and i love you <3

-

Luke’s sold out Madison Square Garden and the O2 Arena, but he maintains there’s no better feeling than a lazy day with Calum.

The thing about massive shows is, they end. It’s an unbeatable high followed almost immediately by a crash, peaks and valleys swooping up and down, emotional turbulence that leaves Luke shaky, grasping for something to hold onto. It would be so easy to botch the landing one day. He’s always a little worried he’ll fall cartoonishly into a Luke-shaped hole in the ground and struggle to ever climb out of it.

But Calum, though. Luke always holds onto Calum. And in that way, Calum’s not any towering highs or crushing lows. Calum is the smooth, glittering surface of a lake on a breezy June day, not so much carrying Luke as giving Luke the tools to carry himself. There’s no way to crash from this feeling because it never takes Luke higher or lower than is safe. Calum’s just a constant, a fact of Luke’s life.

Him and his constant, factual love of How I Met Your Mother.

They’re somewhere around their tenth episode. Luke had given up leveling half-hearted complaints about halfway through episode two. In part because he’d gotten bored of getting no reaction, and also because they both know Luke only ever complains to be a little shit. He doesn’t mind How I Met Your Mother, really. 

Mostly, though, Luke would watch anything as long as he gets to watch it like this. Legs stretched across the couch with his head in Calum’s lap, Calum’s left arm resting comfortably over Luke’s torso, right hand carding mindlessly through Luke’s hair. He couldn’t care less how Ted and Robin are doing; his eyes have been closed for at least half an hour, and either Calum hasn’t noticed or he doesn’t care.

Calum giggles at something on the show. The corners of Luke’s mouth tug upward without meaning to, an instinctive response to Calum’s laugh. There’s a clatter at the door, muffled chatter, and then hinges creaking as somebody enters. 

“Hey,” Michael’s voice says, followed closely by Ashton saying, “What’re you watching?”

Luke could answer, but he’s trying to maintain his streak of silence, so he lets Calum take it. 

“How I Met Your Mother,” comes Calum’s reply, clearly said through a poorly-concealed smile.

“Is he asleep?” Ashton asks in a hushed voice.

“Dunno,” Calum says, still around that smile in his voice. “I don’t think so. I don’t mind if he is.”

There’s a moment of silence. “God, look at you,” Michael says, in that tone of voice that means he’s being fond and hiding it behind sarcasm. “You are the embodiment of actual sunshine. Look at that smile, Ash.”

“That’s a happy Calum,” Ashton agrees.

“You’re not contributing to my enjoyment of the show,” Calum says dryly.

Michael’s voice is closer when he says, “And Sleeping Beauty here is?”

“I’m contributing,” Luke says. His voice is hoarse from lack of use. It feels nice. “I’m keeping Calum’s lap warm.”

“He speaks!” says Michael. “Come on, move your legs. I want to sit.”

“I don’t care what you want,” Luke mumbles, even as he tugs his legs towards himself. The sofa sinks under Michael’s weight. Michael taps Luke’s shin, and Luke obediently lowers his legs across Michael’s lap. 

“You guys wanna stop interrupting the actual show that’s playing?” Calum says, slightly exasperated. His fingers scratch lightly against Luke’s scalp, and Luke hums contentedly. He feels the cushions shift again and knows that Ashton has sat himself down on Michael’s left. Luke waits for somebody to say something else, but nobody does. The only sound that carries on is the drone of the show on the TV.

Opening his eyes just a sliver, Luke sees Michael lace his fingers with Ashton and lean into him. His gaze skims upwards, where it meets Calum’s eyes. Predictably, Calum is smiling.

“Hi,” Calum says. Luke’s heart jumps, somehow, even though they’re already boyfriends and something like hi shouldn’t send Luke spiraling. It still does. Calum still does.

“Hi.”

“You can sleep if you want to,” Calum says quietly. “It’s still nice for me.”

“I know,” Luke says. “I’m half-sleeping. I’d never sleep through you playing with my hair. Far too nice to miss.”

Calum grins and Luke sees the crinkles by his eyes. “Fair enough.” 

“Let me know if you need me to violently kick Mashton over there,” Luke adds, just loud enough that Michael whips his head around and glares at Luke.

“Fuck off,” he says.

“We were literally here first,” Luke points out.

“It’s band bonding,” Michael says.

“Where’s the love?” Ashton says. “I’m not feeling the love.”

Luke sighs. Calum taps the fingertips of his left hand against Luke’s ribcage, and Luke imagines it’s his heartbeat, pretends that Calum is the arbiter of that pounding in his chest that keeps him breathing. 

“Don’t worry about it,” whispers Calum, and Luke opens his eyes properly to stare up at Calum.

“You look good like this,” he says, with a goofy grin. 

“Really? From this angle?” Calum grins back. “That’s love.”

“Yep,” Luke says. “It is.”

“Well, you look good always.”

“I don’t think that’s true.”

“Well, good thing I didn’t ask you.”

“Are you going to watch or not? Because we can put on Friends if you’re bored.” 

“There are nicer things to look at,” Calum says. Luke rolls his eyes as if that’ll distract Calum from the way he’s blushing. No such luck. “Aww, you’re all pink.”

“Can you not?” Luke says. “I’m trying to be really manly here.”

Calum dips down and kisses Luke’s forehead. “Sorry. I’m done.”

“No, hey, I was joking,” Luke complains. “Kiss me for real.”

“In front of the kids?”

Luke glances over at Michael and Ashton, but they’re not even paying attention to Luke and Calum, fully absorbed in the plot of the episode. “Quick, while they’re distracted,” he says.

Calum chuckles and leans down, and Luke stretches upward and meets him in the middle, in the most bizarrely angled kiss Luke is pretty sure they’ve ever done. “Not satisfying,” Luke decides when they part, “but it’ll do.”

“You’re the problem here,” Calum says. “If you were just sitting up, we wouldn’t have to do, like, a sideways Spiderman kiss.”

“Not worth it,” Luke says, smiling sweetly. Calum shakes his head, fond, and restarts his process of gently detangling Luke’s hair, deftly separating strands from each other. 

Calum really does look good, like this and also always, but when his gaze returns to the show on the TV, Luke closes his own eyes again. There’s something peaceful about this moment, and Luke wants to savor it; Calum’s fingers working delicately through Luke’s hair as How I Met Your Mother chatters away in the background, Michael tapping out a rhythm against Luke’s shins as he leans into Ashton. The still frame of this tableau could without question be found below the definition of bliss, and Luke makes himself right at home.

#calum hood #luke hemmings #cake #cake fic #5sos #5sos fic #fic #my fic #spidey anon #i live in perpetual fear that my roommate will find this blog and i will have to softblock her #anyway i looked up the word retribution to make sure i was using it correctly and it said punishment for a CRIMINAL ACT #KJSFKJHLKFSJ found that funny tbh like......the crime of bella not being timely with fic prompts #WELL! too bad! it's my inbox and i make the rules #god i wish i was listening to music right now #i am currently 'listening to' the history of drama lecture that i slept through this morning #i mean i didnt REALLY sleep through it but #its an asynchronous class and initially it was going to be scheduled #and i had it scheduled for 10am #so its on my calendar as a 10am class MWF #but i can watch it Not Then #i was just pretending that i could be responsible and keep myself on a schedule #but then my sleep schedule went DOWN THE DRAIN #so now i let myself sleep through it <3 #which is not great but. what can you do #anywayyyyyy i should maybe try and go fill some more prompts wish me luck byeeee #anonymous #ask #answered

[bardic-inspo]

Hey bb! 1,2, and 3 for the fic ask thing!

Hey friend!! Thank you!! :D 1. has a comment someone left on a fic of yours ever made you laugh out loud?

Answered here :D

2. has a comment someone left on a fic of yours ever made you cry? YES. Literally every comment on No Rest for the Wicked when I first posted it. I'm not exaggerating, I really put my face in my hands just cried. I was really overwhelmed in the best way by how kind people were. I had been so, so nervous to share my writing and it was a Moment of sorts for me.

Every single comment is touching and meaningful to me. Like, wow, somebody came by my campfire and read my stories and had some thoughts or something to say about that, that's just. Really special, to say the least. I feel like I can't even scratch the surface of how cool and meaningful that is.

I also have to call out @gremlinnnnn who bowled me over in the best way with their comment on BtG - Chapter 10. I go back and look at what you said every time I doubt myself or start to struggle with my writing. I can't say thank you enough (without getting a little choked up again), but, gosh, thank you. So, so much.

3. and because I know we’re all egocentric, have you ever made yourself laugh out loud or cry with a fic you wrote?

Maybe not belly laugh, but 100% a very scheming, rubbing-palms-together sort of "hehehe". Happens every time I think of a way to smush characters physically close, make references to future OT3 stuff or, on the flip of that, self-reference back to BtG in OT3 fics. Also happens every time a connect-the-dots feeling happens. I suddenly know what to do with a plot or chapter. And very, very often with grumpy MacCready being grumpy or literally any character laying down some innuendo.

There are a couple sections that caught me off guard and made me cry while I was writing them. I actually answered with one a while back for some other ask meme, but the other one that got to me was this bit from Chapter 12 of Bring the Gasoline.

“I’ve always missed them,” she answers, hollow. “We were apart more than we weren’t.”

...

MacCready hates that he can feel bruises in the way she talks. Hates seeing her hunched over and haunted. Hates knowing how much hell she’s had to wade through, only to be deprived. Hates the cold truth of knowing that if Nate loved her, if anyone loved or cared for Natasha, she hardly ever felt it.

She deserves to feel it.

This moment is about some really hard, horrible, aching questions that are always in the back of Nat's mind: "Why does everyone I care about leave me? Why am I not enough as I am?" It's an undercurrent in the whole conversation, in so many of Nat's actions, in her perception of herself. And she's not me, but damn if that didn't hit a little closer to home than I meant it to.

#ask memes #megh fights the page