#celia watches leverage

[subliminalbo]

Betas #1: The Formless Voice

It is Friday evening, August 11th, 2017 One Week Before New Pledges Arrive

Ana

Ana was barely in the driver’s seat of her old Toyota before she turned to look at Morgan standing on the curb. The large sorority house stretched into gray sky behind her, three stories of history, tradition. The rest of Greek life at Carpenter State had gone to absolute shit, but Ana was proud to see that Beta Phi Alpha was still standing.

“Everything okay?” Morgan craned her neck down so that she was level with the passenger window.

“Yeah,” Ana said, racking her brain for anything that she might have forgotten. “Did I tell you that Jerry was coming in tomorrow at two to replace the broken outlet in the pink room?”

“You did,” Morgan nodded.

“And the new girl is moving her stuff in. Watch out for her.”

“Ana,” Morgan said, offering her friend the best clear, sobering eyes that she could muster. “It’s just a couple of days. Focus on you. I’ll take care of everything.”

“You have the list?” Ana asked.

“I have the list,” Morgan echoed. “I’ll follow it down to the last detail, I’ll make sure the house is ready for the pledges.”

“And Megan?”

Megan—Ana was most worried about Megan. She hadn’t quite been herself since she came back to the house. Nobody knew what had happened at Alpha Delta Theta, but Megan returned quieter and sadder than the girl who’d left for that party five months ago. Ana was searching Morgan’s eyes for signs of doubt, looking for any reason to stay. But Morgan gave her nothing.

“I’ll keep an eye on Megan too,” she said.

It was a shit time for an out of state funeral.

It had only been a couple of weeks since Alpha Delta Theta disbanded. Officially, the school had managed to keep the scandal out of the papers. None of the girls at Beta Phi Alpha knew what happened, but everyone had their suspicions. In a few months, Madison Wells had expanded the Alphas into the largest Greek organization on campus. It started with rumors of legendary parties at their house, and they seemed true too: any girl who attended one of Madison’s parties never wanted to leave. The other sororities on campus began hemorrhaging members. In a stretch of two weeks, the Betas lost Megan, Daphne, Natasha, Celia, and Ashley. When the Alphas folded, only Megan returned, the others having lost all interest in Greek life.

Rumors buzzed around campus. This was all anyone knew for certain: action was taken by administration to shutter the sorority permanently. Whispers of drugs, wild sex parties, some even accused Madison of pimping her sisters. Ana didn’t believe the crazier rumors, like how she’d leveraged her new power to take over a secret society that pushed narcotics through campus, but whatever had happened, it definitely wasn’t good. The dissolution of Alpha Delta Theta was sudden and total. Dozens of sorority sisters were left with no home to go to, and Ana saw an opportunity to rebuild her storied house. Yes, Madison had upended the foundations of Greek life on campus, but this year Ana was determined to put it all back together.

At least she planned to—as soon as she got back from the funeral. She turned the engine over then looked back out her window at Morgan. “Don’t forget,” she said. “Watch out for the new girl.”

Morgan shook her head. She had always been a calm, steady presence in the Beta house. That was what made her a good number two to Ana. But her strength was in following, fundraising, and rallying the team around a strong individual. She struggled to take charge when she needed to. Ana hated to think about leaving it all in Morgan’s hands just a week before the new pledges arrived.

Taylor had been here the longest, but she didn’t give a fuck about any of it anymore. Sydney lived and breathed sorority life, but she was too young and, if Ana was being honest, too much of an airhead to be trusted with actual responsibilities. And Megan, well, Megan would have been Ana’s choice under different circumstances. That just left Morgan.

Ana shifted into drive now, silently cursing her grandmother.

It’s just five days. There’s nothing that can go wrong in five days that I can’t fix.

She rolled to a stop at the sign on the corner of Giger and College Ave and watched Morgan in her rearview mirror, still standing there on the curb. Morgan was a good friend. She cared about the house, sure, but she would always put Ana’s wellbeing first, even if it meant taking on a responsibility that she couldn’t handle. Ana studied Morgan’s body language in the mirror, but her friend was a blank slate. She’d always been that way, choosing to internalize rather than to project her anxieties onto Ana.

Ana sighed as she rounded the corner onto College Ave, the house disappearing in her mirror. She turned on the radio, tried to clear her mind, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that somehow the house, as she knew it, would never be the same.

Morgan

Morgan waited until Ana’s car was out of sight to cross her arms into a tight hug. She’d put up the usual brave face, but the truth was that she’d been a ball of nervous energy for months. She’d been juggling crises the entire year: their dwindling membership, their war with the Alpha's, and not to mention her job and education. Ana was a great leader, but she demanded positivity all the time. This meant that Morgan could never show any doubt. Good vibes only. And sometimes the vibes were just fucking toxic.

Morgan hadn’t had a full night’s sleep since the last week of the semester. Ana had her working every day on battle plans for the new year. “This has to be the biggest pledge week in Beta history,” Ana would say. And she wasn’t wrong. Ana, Morgan, Taylor, and Sydney were the only girls left in the house by year’s end. The rest had joined the Alphas or split when the drama became too much.

Morgan exhausted every party theme she could think of, planned an event for every holiday they could celebrate, but Ana still wanted more. Morgan caught herself in the middle of late nights studying Ana's spreadsheets wondering if any of this was still worth it.

Of course it wasn’t all bad news. Megan was back home, and the new girl had moved in that morning. Ana was suspicious of her, but Morgan didn’t feel that they were in a position to turn anybody down, even if they were a senior. At the end of the day they needed bodies to fill the rooms in the house.

“Hey! You with me?"

Morgan blinked. She didn’t remember leaving the curb.

She'd been losing time like that lately, minutes at a time. Sometimes it felt like she was stuck at the bottom of the ocean. She could look up and see everything through the surface, her life on autopilot as she moved from one of Ana's designated tasks to the other. All she could do was watch from the deep, dark bottom while she waited for the weight of the ocean to crush her.

Depression sucks, man.

Morgan had dragged herself from the curb, up the stairs of the Beta house and was lying sprawled out on her bed, looking half-dead. When she opened her eyes, Taylor was staring down at her, dressed to go out. “Yes,” Morgan replied to Taylor slowly. “You really need to sleep, babe,” Taylor said. She offered her hand for Morgan, pulled her up into a sitting position, “No I don’t,” Morgan said. “I work best under pressure.” “My aunt Theresa didn’t sleep for four days once and she went insane.” “Pledges are coming in a week and Ana’s gone. I have to stay on top of everything or this whole house will go to shit.” “Fuck that bitch,” Taylor shrugged. Morgan shot a look at her like she'd been caught blaspheming in church. “This house has been shit for years and Ana knows it. Stop making sorority life a job, Morg. Have fun. When was the last time you saw Ernie?” “Ernie?” Morgan was surprised to remember that she even had a boyfriend. “A while,” she said. “You’re a mess,” Taylor said. “Get yourself out of this house.” “I can’t leave,” Morgan shook her head. “Even it I wanted to, which I don't, I have to keep an eye on Megan.” “Megan is fine,” Taylor stressed. “I don’t think she is, Tay,” Morgan ran her hands absently through her hair as she thought about her old friend. “Sydney heard moaning from her room again last night.” “So she rubbed one out?" Taylor said. "That’s healthy. That’s a sign of improvement.” “I don't know.” “Sydney hears noises,” Taylor said. “Listen. I’m heading out, but I’ll check on Megan first, okay? If I think anything is wrong I'll stay with her. She likes me better than you anyway. If I check in on her, will you at least lie the fuck down and get yourself some rest?” Morgan sighed. “I'll try," she said. “But…” “No buts,” Taylor smiled. “I want you to get a full night's sleep. If I come home and you're not in bed, I'm gonna kick your ass.”

Megan

Megan hadn’t left her room in over twelve hours. She’d taken a late dinner the night before. She wanted to avoid the other girls.

More accurately, she wanted to avoid their questions. It wasn’t that Megan didn’t want to talk about the Alphas—she simply couldn’t. She had vague recollections of the last few months, like recalling pieces of an old movie she’d seen as a kid: no context, just images of a basement and other girls closing in around her. The images meant nothing to her, but they terrified her all the same because she could feel that they were real.

When Megan closed her eyes at night, she could hear their whispers. Sultry, seductive voices drawing her in, disarming her. The words they spoke were English, but her mind had distorted them beyond comprehension. Even if she didn’t know what her sisters were saying, the words had the same effect on her as they did in the basement of the Alpha house. It terrified her, it thrilled her.

Each night, Megan caught herself unconsciously moaning, “I embrace you. I obey you. I worship you.” She couldn’t fight the urge to repeat the mantra. All she could manage was to keep it quiet, whispering to herself the words that bored into her mind until she surrendered to the thoughts, a slave to no one in particular. It was just desire now. A desire to be controlled, and a more terrifying need to make others just like her. She floated aimlessly between states of awareness and mindless bliss, her body burning, her sheets soaked. Occasionally she’d release a yelp, a word in the series of mindless droning spoken a bit too loudly, and she’d snap back into her conscious mind. I need to stop. I need to stop. I need to cum.

She had to cum. That’s what she’d been taught. Obedience was a discipline, and pleasure was a reward. Only after she fully surrendered to the voices in her head could Megan finally be at peace. But Dr. Fielding had taken that away from her.

Since the Alphas had shut down, Megan attended regular appointments with the head of Carpenter State’s Department of Psychology. In their sessions, Dr. Fielding would put Megan under hypnosis. She called it deprogramming. It included inducing amnesia, removing the terrible memories of the experience from Megan’s mind. But whether by accident or design, Dr. Fielding hadn’t removed everything. Megan’s mind was like this sophisticated algorithm with stretches of rogue code. She would replay these old pieces of her Alpha programming, but Dr. Fielding had removed the triggers that rewarded her with pleasure in exchange for obedience. This left Megan shifting from states of consciousness, her fingers mechanically rolling over her swollen clitoris. Always at the edge but never further. In those moments she was stuck, no different than a broken toy. Megan would continue like this until she passed out from exhaustion. She hadn’t slept this well since high school.

But in the waking hours of the day, she toiled alone in her room trying to piece together what had happened to her. She remembered the days leading up to that night. How she planned to stay in that weekend to cram for midterms. How Daphne had guilted her into going out. Jake Shiherlis was going to be at the Alpha house that night and Daphne had been flirting with him for weeks in their statistics class. As Daphne’s Big, Megan felt a pang of responsibility to look out for the often-clueless freshman. Nat tagged along with them. It was going to be a whole thing. A girl’s night out.

That was as far as Megan’s mind went. Everything else was a blur of distorted voices and snapshots of memories that felt more like bad dreams. Her sisters misinterpreted her silence as sadness. But the truth was that Megan just wanted to figure out for herself what had happened before she opened up. She couldn’t take their constant questions, their offers of support. Only Daphne and Nat could understand what she was going through, but any time she pulled out her phone, she couldn’t bring herself to text them. No doubt another post-hypnotic suggestion by Dr. Fielding. Carpenter State couldn’t risk Madison’s victims reminiscing with each other, piecing together the story.

So, just like her mindless nights on the edge, Megan found herself stuck in the daytime too. She fought off confusion and bad thoughts with a healthy dose of music and shopping. She sat on her bed, scrolling through Target’s website with her favorite emo tunes from middle school blasting on the vintage radio next to her.

Until she was rudely interrupted by a knock at her door.

“It’s open,” Megan called out.

The door swung open wide, Taylor entering part way, leaning casually on the doorjamb. “How’s it going?” “I’ve just been listening to music,” Megan said quietly. “I know,” Taylor replied. “Just–Morgan, you know?”

Morgan was the worst offender in the Beta house’s pity club. The last time she’d cornered Megan just outside the bathroom and offered to take her to the police to make a statement. What would Megan even say?

Taylor, on the other hand, was the only sister she felt comfortable sharing anything with. Back in the day, Taylor was Megan’s Big. She was gorgeous, to an intimidating degree. But if Ana represented law and Morgan represented order, Taylor was something else. A sort of chaos agent playing by her own rules. She may have been a Beta just to fuck around and have a good time, but even that came with its own responsibilities. Megan could sleep comfortably knowing that Taylor was around to watch her back. And she wasn’t going anywhere either: Taylor was entering her seventh year of college, working on her second major, and she didn't have plans on leaving.

“I get it,” Megan replied. “I’m fine.” “Cool,” Taylor said curtly. “I’m headed out tonight. I texted you the suicide hotline number in case, you know, dark thoughts, et cetera.” What’s the recovering brainwashed slave hotline?

“Thank you,” Megan said. She added quickly, “I really am fine.” “I know,” Taylor said. “Just don’t put anything on my conscience, ‘kay?”

“Yeah,” Megan smiled a bit. The indifference really was nice. Taylor wasn’t constantly reminding her that she was a victim, even if she suspected that Taylor felt the guiltiest of all about what happened. That was why, in an attempt to clear the awkward air created by the silence they shared in the lingering moments after she spoke, Megan pivoted to Taylor. “Lucky guy tonight?”

What made Taylor so damn cool was how she knew what she wanted and knew how to get it. It was mostly in the way she dressed. Tonight, she was wearing this gold, two piece that looked more like a bikini than a dress. Megan doubted that she could pull the look off herself, but Taylor had the confidence to pair it with a cute leather jacket, and she knew it was going to destroy any boy who saw it.

“Nah,” Taylor said. “Just hoping to get a little fucked up before semester starts. Wanna come?" “I’m okay,” Megan forced another smile. “Maybe next time.” “Suit yourself,” Taylor replied. “I’ll tell Morgan you’re doing fine. Maybe she won’t bother you too much tonight. “Thanks,” Megan said. “Can you close the door when you leave?”

Taylor obliged. When she was gone, Megan cranked the dial on her radio to max and turned her attention back to her laptop screen. She hesitated for a moment, pondering what she saw there.

The audio file was called "Hypnosis for Relaxation." Too tame.

Megan scrolled up to the webpage's search bar and typed a liberal string of keywords: hypnosis sub dominated femdom slave kink. "What the fuck is wrong with me?" she whispered, but she didn't really care.

She was going to sleep well tonight.

Andrea

Andrea had done a lot of dumb things for Dr. Fielding, but joining a whole ass sorority was a new level of bullshit.It was only a few days after the Alphas thing blew up that Dr. Fielding approached her for the job. Andrea and her partner Tyler had been running all over campus collecting strays. Madison was in the wind by then, halfway to Mexico if she was as smart as Dr. Fielding believed. But she’d kept diligent records of every Alpha. Andrea had seen a lot of weird shit at Carpenter State, and while a sorority cult with brainwashing headsets wasn’t the most far fetched thing she’d ever seen—the thing at Argento’s still had this beat—it was the largest cover up she’d ever worked on.

And now Dr. Fielding was asking her to join a sorority. “Asking” was a polite way of saying that Dr. Fielding had her claws buried so deep in Andrea and Tyler’s minds that they would do anything she told them to. Andrea was, after all, a loyal student of Carpenter State University sworn to proudly serve Dean Strickland and protect the legacy of the institution.

But the girls were already suspicious from the Alphas incident, and a senior suddenly wanting to pledge had everyone on high alert. She could tell that Ana didn’t trust her. She suspected that it was the other one, what was her name? Robin? Who advocated for the benefit of the doubt. Her intentions weren’t malicious. After everything that had happened, Dr. Fielding wanted eyes in the Greek community, just in case anyone planned to follow in Madison’s footsteps. Tyler was a good partner, but this was the kind of job she’d have to do alone.

“Fuck,” Andrea grunted as she attempted to haul her chair up the sorority house’s old, narrow staircase. It was a plush, little green armchair but it had a surprising amount of weight to it. Though the girls had agreed to take her on as a pledge, they didn’t seem too eager to help her move in. She was left doing all of the heavy work by herself.

Andrea closed her eyes, determined to get this ridiculous piece of furniture up to the top step on her own. She pulled her weight back and managed to get the chair up one step. Just fifteen more to go.

“Hey there!” A painfully bubbly voice interrupted Andrea’s concentration. She looked down from her place on the stairs to see a young blonde standing there, her head cocked to the side like a confused puppy. “Need some help?”

“Sure,” Andrea breathed, a little surprised. “Knock yourself out.”

The small girl was stronger than she looked. She took hold of the chair from the bottom and she said, “My name’s Sydney.” “Andrea." “I know,” Sydney replied with a giggle that Andrea thought sounded nervous. “You’re the new girl. The senior?” “Going to be,” Andrea said as she began to slowly work her way up the stairs. She regretted having to be the one to go backward. “You?” “Sophomore,” Sydney squeaked back. “Maybe you’ll be my Little. Wouldn’t that be weird?”

“What?” Andrea asked. “Like, Big and Little? Your sister mentor. Show you the ropes, have your back no matter what.” “Right,” Andrea nodded doubtfully. “You don’t know much about the life, huh?” “Not really,” Andrea said. “I sort of ended up here on a dare.” A lie, but the best one that Andrea could think of in the moment. “Shut up. That is so funny.”

“I guess,” she said. “I hear it’s been pretty crazy around here lately.”

They were at the top of the stairs now. It was a straight shot from the railing to her new room at the end of the hall.

“Oh yeah,” Sydney replied. “Kind of a strange time to be a pledge,” Sydney said. “You know I almost pledged to the Alphas? But my mom was a Beta and I wanted to be just like her. I’m excited to just have a normal year. You know, meet some boys, have some laughs, make friendships that will last a lifetime?”

This girl can't be real.

They crossed the doorway into Andrea’s room, the one the Betas called the pink room. It was the only one in the house covered from corner to corner in pink wallpaper.

Sydney admired the space as they sat the chair down. “Pretty, isn’t it?” “I’m more of a dark colors kind of gal,” Andrea said. “You know it’s the biggest room in the house?” Sydney said. “Daphne was here last year but she didn’t come back after the Alphas.” “I’m sorry,” Andrea said, trying to avoid Sydney’s eyes.

There was a moment of silence between the two before Sydney reached out and pulled Andrea into a hug. Andrea recoiled at first, but remembered that she was supposed to make friends with these girls, and reluctantly she brought her arms up around Sydney too.

When Sydney pulled away from Andrea, she looked the older girl in the eyes and said, “It’s been tough. Sorority life is supposed to be about family, and loyalty, and kindness. But lately it’s been like…you can’t trust anyone, you know?”

“Yeah,” Andrea said with a stone face.

“And I guess what I mean is,” Sydney continued, clumsily dancing around a point. “I don’t know why you decided to join us now, but we’re a family. And we take that pretty seriously.”

Suddenly Andrea didn’t know what to make of this encounter. Did Sydney know that she was sent there to spy on them? She didn’t seem threatening, but she was definitely smarter than she wanted people to think she was, and that made Andrea nervous.

“Thanks,” Andrea said, realizing that she’d held the silence for too long. “No probs!” Sydney smiled. “Can I call you Andi?”

“I’d rather you didn’t.”

Taylor

It was three in the morning by the time Taylor got back, rolling up in an Uber with a young man’s tongue down her throat. His name was Gabe. He was a proper himbo. She pulled away from him with a sultry smile. “This is my stop, baby.”

“Fuck,” he said, unfocused eyes darting over her body. “You’re so hot.” They were both a little drunk. Taylor held her alcohol better. “Can I come in with you?”

“Uh-uh,” she shook her head no. “Men don’t come into the house. I gotta look out for my girls.”

Gabe pulled her toward himself again. He was all over her. “Then come back to my place.”

Taylor put her finger on her chin playfully, pretending to think it over. It was a tempting offer. Gabe was model cute, with crazy blue eyes and a perfect five o’clock shadow that looked like it had gone through some editing in photoshop.

“Here,” she said, reaching into the pocket of his jacket and pulling out his phone. She added her number and passed it back to him. “In the morning you want some more,” she said. “Text me.”

“That’s it?” he asked.

Taylor bit her lip. He'd been a good boy. Bought her all the drinks she wanted and actually took no for an answer. She glanced toward the front of the car to make sure the driver was minding his own damn business, then she pulled her top down.

“Fuck,” he moaned.

“Just a taste,” she said, quickly readjusting her breasts to fit comfortably inside her dress.

She stumbled out of the Uber and over the curb, then into the front yard of the Beta house. She was smiling, still wired from the evening, as she ascended the concrete steps to the front door. Entering the house, she stumbled in the darkness, reaching out for the coat rack by the door and taking it to the floor with her. She was overtaken with a brief fit of giggles but managed to find her bearings. She sat there, straight faced, preparing herself for the long voyage back up to her feet. That was when she heard the first voice. A whisper.

“Hello?” she said. She sat there for a few more seconds on her knees. There was no response. No sound but the quiet hum of Morgan’s sound machine playing upstairs.

Taylor was back on her feet when she heard the voice again, another whisper. But what did it say? Awaken? Submit? She shook her head.

I must be some next level drunk.

She passed through the foyer to the dining room and into the kitchen. The room was dark except for the moonlight shining in through the window over the sink. She moved to the refrigerator and opened it, bending down to search for a bottle of water. Morgan was always on her about hydrating after a night of drinking. She hummed a song she’d picked up at the club that night as she rummaged through the fridge.

When Taylor stood up and closed the door, it took her a moment to notice the figure standing on the other side.

“Jesus Christ, Morgan!” Taylor shouted. “You almost gave me a heart attack.”

Morgan’s body was gray in the moonlight. She stood there with her arms at her sides. She studied Taylor as if this was the first time she'd seen her friend.

“Do you need a drink of water?” Taylor offered the bottle, still holding her hand to her chest. Again received no response. “Come on,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “Let’s get you back to bed.”

“No,” Morgan said. “This vessel requires no sleep.”

A chill ran down Taylor’s spine. As she looked closer at her old friend, she realized that something wasn’t right about her. It wasn’t in the way she stood there in her underwear, or even in the emotionless tone of her voice. It was her eyes. Her eyes shined in the darkness as bright and clear as pearls.

“What the fuck!” Taylor jumped when she saw it, dropping the bottle of water on the floor.

She backed quickly out of the kitchen and into the dining room. Morgan advanced slowly, taking one step at a time. Taylor could run, but she knew from the way Morgan moved that there was no hope of escape. Sooner or later she'd have to fight whatever this was.

She retreated until she felt the fireplace against her back.

“You cannot run,” Morgan said, staring Taylor down with those sinister eyes. “The Master has chosen you. Can you hear its call?”

The whispers came back in floods. They were voices, dozens of them, but one spoke louder than the rest. Unlike the others, this voice was formless but powerful. It cut through the noise until all Taylor could hear was its alluring tone.

submit surrender obey

“No!” Taylor cried. “Get it out of my head! What are you doing to me!?” She reached for the fireplace poker and held it high above her head.

The gesture was empty. It didn’t stop Morgan from closing in on Taylor, pressing her body against her friend’s. She pressed her hand firmly to Taylor’s neck and forced her to look into her empty eyes.

submit surrender obey

“All life surrenders to the Master,” Morgan moaned. “We are nothing but vessels. Our bodies were made to serve the Master's design. You have been chosen and you will obey.”

“Stop…” Taylor choked, the poker hitting the floor with a loud clang. Her voice escaped in a helpless whisper, tears cresting over her long eyelashes. “Morgan, please…” She was a shadow of the cool, collected young woman who had been talking to Megan just a few hours ago.

Morgan cocked her to the side. “There’s nothing to fear,” she said with a strangely disarming smile. “Let the Master’s words fill your mind. Listen to its call, let it guide your thoughts, let it guide your actions. You will be transformed, and in transformation you will find peace.”

submit surrender obey

The Master was in Taylor’s head now, bouncing new ideas of pleasure, obedience, surrender around her mind. Its words were mixing with her own. She didn’t know what thought was hers and what thought was Master.

All she knew now was that she needed to surrender. She needed to obey.

#hypnokink #mind control #hive mind #brainwashed #hypno story #series: betas #series: assimilation #hypno manip #oc: andrea rubin #oc: ana marino #oc: megan reed #oc: sydney harris #oc: taylor byrne #oc: morgan jones

[sv-si]

Fine Art Restoration

"To each their own, I guess," Carme said, through a mouthful. "But I've never really cared for it." 

"It's weird, yeah. I think of it kind of like a fill-in for pasta. It needs a lot of toppings, though, it's kinda bland." 

"Seconded." They were seated in the outdoor area of Taego Aduraz, a southern-style upscale restaurant with neat red and white decor. They had picked it for what the name meant in Ebura -- "Brave Escort for the Upper Class"  -- which they had a childish giggle about in the square earlier that morning. It was strange, waking up in the morning and having nothing to do, going on a walk through the ruined, but slowly rebuilding city of Bastion, and casually swapping bites of each others meals to see which they liked more. 

Nearly ten years of perpetual anxiety, bouncing from conflict to conflict, and now they had a ship booked to the mainland in two months and nothing to do until then. Unfair. Now so many things were rising up to fill the gap.

Carme was looking out across the street, towards the gap between buildings where the tips of masts could be seen, just peeking out above the hills and the throngs of busy people. Her hair caught the wind -- longer than it used to be, and still strange to see dipping just past her shoulders. 

"Do you want a haircut?" 

"What?" Carme turned back to her, absently, and Celia felt her cheeks flush. "Oh, uh, I guess? I haven't thought about it in a while. No galas or anything to go to, so I haven't had to bother." 

It had come out too quickly, and Celia was uncomfortable now. "Well, you know, if you wanted, we could find a barber. Or, you know, a hairdresser. If you wanted." 

"No offense, Celia, but we're not exactly flush with cash at the moment." 

It was true. She had come to this island to make money, to build up her connections within the empire, and leverage both of those things against her occupiers. But now she had declared support for a rebellion, lost most of her money in a shipwreck caused by said rebellion, and was left almost entirely alone. Almost. 

"I could cut it for you, if you wanted," Celia said, thinking as little as possible about the words coming out of her mouth. "I've cut your hair before." 

"Oh! Uh, yeah. You have." Carme seemed to be surprised by that. It was true, she promised. "That was when we were kids, though." 

"Did I not do a good job?" 

"No, no, that's not it." Carme paused. "I just... you know, you're upper crust nobility, technically, even if our purses don't show it. Is it, like, appropriate?" 

The Duke Celia Arradre, daughter of House Emirale, stared to her left and watched a ship lower sail and slip smoothly below the cobble-crusted streets. 

"I feel less and less respect for propriety, lately. The empire did things properly, and we stabbed them in the throat and set their city aflame. Drebur did things properly, and it was betrayed by its own houses and conquered by men with no love for it. What will happen, now, if we do things properly? What will happen, if we are polite?" She turned back, eyes brown as ermine fur. "Will we burn again? I think we may have to accept reality, sooner or later." 

Carme stared at her, and nodded gently, spoon laid to rest at the edge of her plate, just so. She was truly gentle, and graceful, when she wanted to be. A picture-perfect knight, minus the shining armor for the moment. Not the clumsy, naive fool that so many appraised her as. She was intelligent, and savvy, and focused, and driven. A perfect servant to many a master before her. Celia wishes she wasn't just using her.

"So... you do want to cut my hair?" 

"Yes." 

She smiled. Celia tried not to. 

"Tonight, then. At the vinyard. That little seamstress girl must have a spare pair of scissors somewhere, right?" 

"Ephemerid has many things." 

-------------

The vinyard was not quiet these days, but tonight it was mostly empty; Ryll was gone, tracking down the few remaining imperial loyalists and giving them offers they couldn't refuse; Eleanor was putting together her new government, and hopefully getting tempered by Talgeron; Chai was off rebuilding the farms that had fallen into disrepair in the last few weeks.

Ephemerid was more than happy to lend a pair of scissors -- with eyes the size of dinner plates -- when Celia came knocking on her door in the early afternoon. A hushed question of "what are they for?" and a smug grin on her face as she passed over a pair in silver and mother-of-pearl. Celia left her at her bedroom door, though she could feel the press of her gaze on her back. She ignored it. 

The bathroom was prepared with a chair and a thin sheet, which Celia draped across her knight wordlessly. Carme seemed apprehensive at her touch, muscles tensing. Discomfort, perhaps. Celia would touch her no more than she needed to. 

The scissors she held in her left hand, and, with a mutter of Draconic under her breath and a flutter of her eyelids, conjured a pointed, foggy hand with which to hold the comb. She tucked the scissors into her belt for a moment. 

"Do you want to keep a braid of it?" Celia asked softly, combing out her hair. 

"U-uh, sure. Sure. Yeah. Why not." 

"Alright," said Celia. The hair came through her fingers easily -- it was fine, much finer than her own, and tended towards slick and silky rather than voluminous and soft. It fell together quickly, Celia's own deft fingers tumbling together with conjured ones until a short braid fell down Carme's neck. She cut it, swiftly, and set it down on the bathroom counter. 

Carme's hair fell around her chin -- blunt and a little ridiculous, but still somehow dashing in the mirror in front of her. She had a way about that. Celia did not make eye contact. She picked up the comb, and went to work. 

The cut was familiar to her. It was the way soldiers had their hair cut during wartime, and the way men cut their hair year-round. Celia hadn't, for reasons she was given when she was young and had rarely thought about since then. But Carme had kept her hair this way at all times. She told Celia once that it was to keep it out of the way, because she hated the way that it felt on the back of her neck. But then that didn't explain the way that she always asked to wear suits instead of dresses at hastiludes and galas and midsummer parades, nor the way she walked broad and gallant, with none of the delicacy or grace that she and Celia were taught from the time they were young. 

Scissors ran across the nape of her neck, quickly, loosely. Celia was not an expert hairdresser, but she had cut Carme's hair enough times when they were young to know well enough what she was doing. Scissor-over-comb in the back, close at the base and longer as it goes up. Keep the crown tied up until you need in, then cut it short and feather it so it doesn't fall all together. The sides have a starker gradation than the back, which fades evenly into the length on the top. It was easy to lose herself in it, since she could feel nothing of the hand that had its knuckles pressed into the skin of the back of her head, and only the soft snip, snip of the scissors as she moved up her neck. 

Carme sighed, a few times, and sank back into her seat. She was bored. Celia would work more quickly. 

She had been cavalier about this earlier, had downplayed the significance of such an intimate act for the sake of indifference. It was not insignificant, she found now, as she ran her non-fingers through Carme's hair, motioned wordlessly for her to tilt her head one way or another, felt a slight twinge of fear as she obeyed, equally wordlessly. She trusted her so. 

Another few minutes went by, and it was more of the same. Snip, comb, snip. A few times, Celia's finger would brush against her scalp, or she would have to use her fingernails to separate out the hair. That was when she had to be most careful, impartial, professional, not too indifferent, but not too personal. And, of course, Carme leaned into her touch whenever those little slips happened, as if she had none of the same dedication. She was always such a fool. 

Celia let the hair on the crown of Carme's head fall around her face. She glanced in the mirror for a second, and caught an eye -- piercing, brown, peering through locks of damp hair and smiling softly. Celia quickly turned away. She was irritatingly handsome, even only halfway through a haircut, in the way that turned the heads of men and women no matter how sound their desire. 

Celia stared into her hair. Cut, comb, cut, comb. Blot out everything else. 

"You look nice, by the way." 

She said it in Ebura. Soft, with rounded vowels. Celia ignored her. Cut, comb, cut, comb. 

"I should say it more, because I think you don't realize it. But you look nice like that, with your hair down, the tabard open." Carme was staring at her in the mirror. "You feel natural. You're usually so careful about everything. I like you better like this. When you aren't being careful." 

Cut, comb, cut, comb. She grabbed Carme's chin and turned it sharply, somehow eliciting a giggle. 

"Are you afraid of me? What do you think will happen?" Carme shut her eyes for a moment, letting out a long, slow breath. "You're doing a good job, by the way. It looks nice." 

Celia scoffed. "I could do better if you'd be quiet." 

"Right, right. As you wish, my lord." 

Celia cut, and combed. She feathered the straight lines, kept them from sitting too flat and dull on her head. She would be lying if her own tastes weren't being reflected in it; she had any number of opinions on the kind of things that looked good on Carme. And, she liked when her hair was feathered and messy. It was not traditional, but she wore it handsomely. 

Her stomach twisted, and quiet things began to burble up. She grimaced, and reminded herself that everyone makes mistakes once in a while. Her most of all. 

"Yes," she said, after a while. 

"Yes what?" Carme opened her eyes, and Celia saw her staring at her through the mirror curiously from her periphery. 

"I am afraid of you," she said. 

There was nothing more to do, the haircut was finished, but she was still combing, slowly, as an excuse not to look her in the eye. 

"Oh." Carme was quiet for a while, staring into the middle distance. Celia had meant to shock her, but she wasn't lying. Guilt crept into her throat again. It was familiar to her now. 

"Why is that?" Carme asked. 

"I don't know," she responded. A lie. She knew why. 

"You don't have to be. Or I wish you didn't have to be." Pause. "You and I could be close, and... I don't think that the country could have anything to do with it. Or if they do, then... You're Duke of one of the Great Houses. You have the favor of the Queen. Things could be different, if you wanted." 

"You presume it's something I want. And you assume that I want to test my luck with her, which I don't. I've already murdered the previous Duke, and ruined our chances at prosperity in the future. We are impoverished, soon homeless, and I have nothing to show for my conquest." Celia placed the comb down on the countertop, more sharply than she intended to, and stepped towards the door. "It's done. I'm done. I'm going to go on a walk. Unaccompanied." 

"No, I don't think you are." No hand grabbed her, but Celia froze as if one did. "I know you, Celia. There's something wrong, and I want you to deal with it for once, instead of going on and on about how you're horrible and irreparable and trapped by the system. Because you know what? You want to know what?" 

Celia turned halfway, to look at Carme, bent forward on her chair, looking up at her. She narrowed her eyes. "What?" 

"You are the system. You've beaten it; it's yours. Make it what you want it to be. There were never any rules, you should know that better than anyone. They do whatever they want, and call it tradition, and they call it 'right'. And you can do the same, but this time actually fucking be right. For once, do something good for someone. For you" 

Celia stared for a minute, watched the muscles in Carme's jaw flex as she met her gaze, watched her hands clench and unclench in her lap. Strong, bruised hands, with scrapes and scares on her knuckles. She would know defeat yet. 

"What do you think I want?" 

"I think you want to be comfortable. And I think you want to be taken care of." Carme stood, and approached her, and the hair stood up on the back of her neck. Sweat beaded there, where she couldn't brush it off. "I think that you've spent a very long time doing what other people ask of you, and you don't know any other way to live. And I think you want something else." 

A pause. Carme fidgeted with her fingers for a minute, working up the courage to say something. Celia begged for divine intervention, for anyone to save her from the fate that awaited her. Please let it not be what she wanted. There would be no going back. 

"I swore an oath to you, to protect you, defend you, serve you. To do your bidding. But I haven't, not yet. You haven't once given me an order that would serve you. You want to serve the crown, and that is honorable, but..." 

She took Celia's hand. Hers was warm, and calloused. Celia's was clammy. 

"I want to be servant to your desires. Then I will have fulfilled my oath." 

A beat. Another. Carme was so close now, and Celia could feel the warmth of her body radiating into her. She thought that Celia would not pay attention, so she came closer to make her point. Celia would be more attentive.

She shut her eyes, and let out a long, slow exhale. "You are an honorable woman, Carme Saenz." 

It happened slowly, like a rockslide, with lots of dust and debris obscuring the truth of it. And Celia knew, in the moment, that it would be brief, impossible to remember, impractical to think about. But it was euphoric. A spout of exhausting clarity, true and simple, invoking such regret that she felt like sobbing. But she didn't, and she didn't have to struggle to maintain composure this time. It came, easy and free. 

It lasted longer than Celia cared to elaborate on. There were no words shared afterwords, just stares and gentle touches and hands, gripping each other tightly, for a long while. Celia let go first, and Carme's hands dragged on her shoulders as she pulled away. Again, a wave of calm. She would be back. 

-------------

Celia walked out into the cool halls that ringed the courtyard and began the walk up the stairs, but stopped, and turned, to face a girl in a starched white dress. 

"Ephemerid. Your scissors." She offered them out. 

Ephemerid smiled, and ran a finger along the banister, pretending to check for dust. "Sooooo... how are things?" 

"Well." Her heart was racing. Her face was flat. "Here are your scissors." 

"Well?! That's it?" Effie stared at her with an open mouth. "You had the experience of a lifetime, you MORON. You can't just say you're well and go on your dukey way. You're gonna tell me what happened."

Celia closed her eyes and took a breath. Well. The girl can read minds. She opened her eyes, narrow. "How much did you see?" 

"Huh?" Effie tilted her head, and frowned. "What do you mean?" Her eyes went wide. "WAIT, WHAT HAPPENED?!"

Celia smiled. "You didn't see anything, did you?" 

"NO! I SAW EVERYTHING!" Effie took a few steps up towards her, and pointed with a quivering finger. "YOU GAY KISSED HER, I SAW IT!"

Celia felt her cheeks warm, but stood her ground and only raised an eyebrow. "You have always had an overactive imagination. Take your scissors back." 

"NO! ADMIT IT! OR I'LL KILL YOU!!" 

Celia shrugged. "Fine. I'll keep them. Come get them when you can see reality." 

She turned and walked back up the stairs, twirling the scissors on her finger. She felt light, somehow. Open. Fresh. Change seemed so close all of a sudden. 

"CELIA!"

#my writing #original character #writers on tumblr #this one is much better edited hehe thank u @/birchghost #oc carme #oc celia

[jennycalendar]

more stuff about leverage that i love:

maggie, who is supremely lovable, EXTREMELY hot, and dishes out snark on a level that rivals snark queen sophie devereaux.

the fact that the team stans maggie just as hard as i do and basically adopt her as their Good Person Mascot

the fact that if pressed, absolutely everyone on the team would be on Team Maggie rather than Team Nate. i’m pretty sure nate would also be on Team Maggie.  

#celia watches leverage #IT IS JUST SO FUCKING FUNNY. #like they make her SO incredible and sweet and they do not villainize her at ALL #despite her being The Ex Wife #you can tell that nate loves her just SO much and as you get to know her you start to really see why #(yes i am a maggie stan. and what about it)

[laraslandlockedblues]

A Lovely Sight

I’ve always been really proud of this smut from Beautiful Disaster (Ch 28) because it just feels so...natural. Very fitting for an established relationship.

This is for Smutty Slutty Weekend, so check out the rating explanation before proceeding. Under a read more for length and content <3

Summary: Cullen and Cecilia are retiring for the night...at least until Cullen gets distracted.

Pairing: Cullen Rutherford/Cecilia Moore, Cullen/MGiT, Cullen/OC

Words: 716

Content Warning: Explicit for sexual content, including: standing doggy style, loud sex, rough sex, established relationship

~~

Arms slip around her waist suddenly and she puts the ring back in the drawer as Cullen pulls her against him.

“Mmm, Maker you’re a lovely sight,” he murmurs in her ear.

She smiles and places her hands on his, noticing the way he’s holding her stomach as he presses kisses to her cheek. He nuzzles her hair aside and slides his mouth along the side of her neck, stopping below her ear and sucking and licking it gently until she moans.

“Cullen -” she sighs, her eyes closed and her head leaning back against his chest.

He slides his hands down her stomach and slips them into her smallclothes, pushing them off of her hips as he nibbles her ear. “Yes, Celia?” he purrs, and he pulls her full against him and she gasps when she feels that he’s naked, hot and hard against her rear.

“I – I want you,” she murmurs.

His chuckle is soft, barely audible, and he uses his feet to kick hers apart, spreading her legs for him. One hand slips between them and he begins to touch her while he leans and places his other on the edge of the dresser to brace himself.

“You do, do you?” he asks, and the tone of his voice is setting her soul on fire, her legs trembling and weakening. He’s still touching her, and he bends her slightly as he presses his chest to her back.

She moans and braces herself on the dresser as well, bending a bit more so that she’s angled for him. “Yes, mi alma, please – please I want you.”

When she calls him mi alma she watches as his knuckles whiten on the edge of the dresser, like he’s gripping it more tightly, and he buries his nose against her neck. He removes his hand from where he’s touching her and she whimpers, but a moment later she feels him pressing against her and gasps, eagerly pushing back with her hips to encourage him.

His hand moves to her hip and he slides into her, burying his face more forcefully against her neck as he groans. She bites her lip and steadies herself against the dresser, her nails scraping along the wood as her fingers dig into it. After a moment he begins thrusting, still holding her hip tightly as he takes up a fast rhythm.

The sound of his thighs slapping into hers excites something primal in her, and soon each slap is accented by a whimpering sob from her. He releases her hip and slides his hand up to her breast, grasping and caressing it as he continues kissing her neck. He’s so intent on all of his attentions she’s fairly certain he’s leaving marks, and she can’t bring herself to care.

In fact, she’s beginning to hope he is.

“Mi alma, mi alma,” she gasps. “I’m close, I’m going to – please, harder, please.”

She keeps whispering it, and he slides his hand up to her neck and holds it, giving himself leverage and keeping her pressed back against him. He answers her soft pleas until she’s crying out desperately, calling his name so loudly she wonders if the soldiers standing guard on the battlements can hear her. She falls apart and feels him slam into her as he groans, and he whispers soft praise to her as he finishes with a few last thrusts, thrusting deep and holding himself there as he kisses her neck.

She finally releases one hand from the dresser and reaches behind her, running her fingers through his hair. “Mon cœur,” she sighs. “That was amazing.”

He chuckles and cups her cheek with his hand, turning her face so that he can kiss her. His kiss is slow, and again she feels wholly possessed by the way he moves his mouth against hers, as if he’s drinking her in.

“Let’s go to bed, beloved,” he murmurs against her lips. “Now that I feel certain that I’ll have sweet dreams of you, I think I’m looking forward to it.”

She giggles and kisses him a few times before she nods. “If not, we can always try again.”

He laughs, and smiles, and her heart soars to hear and see evidence of contentment in him again.

Maybe she is helping.

#lemons #smutty slutty weekend #cullen/Cecilia #cullen rutherford/mgit #beautiful disaster #established relationship sex #mgit #cullen/ofc #read the content warning #spite smut

[jellybeanbeing]

My Favorite Tropes

This is going to get increasingly oddly specific so don’t mind me. Also, after writing this whole thing up, I realize that it’s heavily romance based so excuse me if you didn’t want that, and I repeat a lot of the same books because I’m boring.

1. Found Family Trope

We all love this trope so much. It just hits so good when there are characters who have never had that someone to lean on when they’ve needed it, and then they find those people. And the best thing is that, it’s always unexpected. The characters are like “I can never imagine being friends with this person” but then they become best friends, and it’s a good time. There is just something so pure about it and seeing a character just feel like they finally belong. 

Examples are: The Gangsey from The Raven Cycle by Maggie Stiefvater & The Six of Crows gang from Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo & the Leverage crew from the show, Leverage

2. Friends to Lovers Trope

I live for this trope. There is something about this trope that puts ease in my body. It’s mostly because the two (or more) characters already know each other, maybe to their deepest core. They are so unaware of the fact until one day, something happens and then they’re like, “fuckkkk.” And I love the progression of it because they get to know each other in such a different and intimate way that hits the soul so well.

An example is: Emma and Julian from The Dark Artifices series by Cassandra Clare

3. Enemies to Friends to “I Would Literally Die For You”

This is such an endearing trope. I love it so much because you get to see the beautiful and hilarious banter within the relationship, and after (usually) a serious conflict arises, it shows that the other person really cares and would literally or figuratively die for the other person who they once hated. And it’s even better when they can’t admit but in those small moments, they show that they really care for each other.

Examples are: every friendship in Leverage (again), and (kinda) August and Kate from the Monsters of Verity duology by Victoria Schwab

4. “Characters Who Have A History Together That Caused Them To Have Bitter Feelings Towards Each Other But Meet Again And They Have To Work With Each Other And Their Feelings Blossom Again” Trope

This is definitely a slow burn kind of thing because it takes time to rekindle that flame, but this is different than slow burn because both parties have a history with each other, and they know each other but they are still like “fuck this bitch.” The thing that makes this trope work though, is if both parties acknowledge what had caused their falling out and talk it through and have grown as people individually because if it’s not, then I DON’T WANT IT.

Examples are: a future Ty and Kit (I’m hoping) from The Dark Artifices series by Cassandra Clare, Taylor and Jonah from Jellicoe Road by Melina Marchetta, & Nina and Matthias from the Six of Crows duology by Leigh Bardugo

5. When Two (or more) Mysterious Characters With Dark Secrets Fall In Love And Become Vulnerable To Each Other

This has become a new favorite of mine because I didn’t even know I needed it until I got it. It’s like these two characters have their guard up against each other and the rest of the world, and they know it. They push their boundaries to see how far they will let their guard fall when they are with each other, and IT’S SO GREAT. And when they do become vulnerable to each other, it’s the best thing in the world because they get to share their secrets with that other person and become this badass couple.

Examples are: Jordan and Declan from Call Down the Hawk by Maggie Stiefvater

6. Insta-Love or to be more specific Insta-Attraction

Now wait a fucking second because you probably just said, “What the fuck?” Yeah, but let me explain myself. I’m not talking about the kind of insta-love where “it’s love at first sight! I’m gonna marry this person!” or where you literally force characters to fall in love because THEY JUST HAVE TO. No. I think this trope only works when the audience already knows the nature of the two parties. When we know who each character is, when they meet and suddenly have this attraction towards the other, it makes sense. 

Three great GREAT examples are: (again) Jordan and Declan from Call Down the Hawk, Maura and the Grey Man in The Dream Thieves, both by Maggie Stiefvater, and Marco & Celia from The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern

7. “I want you but I can’t have you but I still want you.” Trope

One side of the party is always “business” and “duty first” because that’s just who they are, but then they meet that person who is their undoing and everything turns into chaos. They want the other person but the circumstances that they are in, is stopping them from taking that step forward and it frustrates them. The other party is there wanting to accept their love but the other party just can’t but they want to.

Examples are: Kaz and Inej from the Six of Crows duology by Leigh Bardugo, & Helene and Avitas from An Ember in the Ashes series by Sabaa Tahir

8. Slow Burn Romance

My god, this is my favorite trope when it’s done right. The agonizing pain of watching the two parties fall for each other without them knowing but having this tension is GOLDEN. It hurts the heart of readers and make us want to rip our heads off because WE JUST WANT THEM TOGETHER, but no. We have to wait until ‘the moment’. 

Examples are: Gansey and Blue and Adam & Ronan from The Raven Cycle by Maggie Stiefvater

#the raven cycle #maggie stiefvater #call down the hawk #an ember in the ashes #sabaa tahir #six of crows #leigh bardugo #the night circus #erin morgenstern #on the jellicoe road #melina marchetta #the dark artifices #cassandra clare #monsters of verity #this savage song #our dark duet #Victoria Schwab #leverage

[princesses-and-bitchcraft]

me, simultaneously liveblogging the 🐧 book publically and livecasting the experience of “watching leverage with my parents” directly into celia’s dms,

#galaxy brains only

[pyresided]

[absolutely, perfectly comprehensive, chronological and perfectly explained shindrift timeline for all ur shindrift needs]

          side note ; this is heavily canon divergent and works to take into account @notpetals‘ au where yor has a throne world and didn’t die the first time shin/the renegade ‘killed’ him - also fuck canon

          - the renegade and drifter meet ‘by chance’ and talk, drifter shows the renegade his gets and the ascendant plane

          -  knowing he’s in danger and being keen to keep the renegade out of his business, drifter lays a trap and gives him the name callum sol (dredgen cull) and waits to see if he takes the bait. neither of them really understand the other and shin sees drifter as nothing more than an annoyance to his plans - but he lets the rogue continue, the both of them planning on playing the long game

          - drifter is a difficult man to work with. the renegade is a difficult man to read. the two of them end up clashing in more ways than one - their tempers and stress and everything else boiling over during an altercation that leaves them engaging in a way neither saw coming. drifter has the renegade retreating to lick his wounds in private, it’s a routine that soon repeats itself more often than not when they organise meetings to pass along information

          - the renegade ‘oversees’ drifter setting up gambit as part of their ‘deal’ - almost killing drifter when he finds out about the primevals

          - drifter finds out that callum has been killed and in the process figures out that the renegade is shin malphur, the man with the golden gun and uses a list of dredgen names as leverage to direct him going forward - revelling in his new context for the man that would kill him for even the slightest slip up

          - neither of them will admit it or even consider what it could mean, but their extra curricular activities become more of a habit and less of a fight. their edges blunting ever so slightly, they start sharing a bed after the fact, start organising meetings purely to feel each other again and again

          - drifter sees shin’s face for the first time, shin lets him

         - shin starts to help drifter with testing weapons for gambit prime, helping him perfect his craft while they both get to keep an eye on one another. sometimes they go as far as to test the weapons on shin when there’s no other option thanks to shaxx not allowing gambit weapons in the crucible and drifter wanting to keep a low profile between themselves

          - shortly after drifter is moved into the annex by the vanguard, the nine start to send him visions and anour become an issue. shin is made aware of anour bugging the annex and decides to stay neutral to watch how things play out. somewhere around this time, they’re forced to find comfort in one another when shin finds drifter after a vision sent from the nine and drifter is given no choice but to allow shin to be the one to help him with the aftermath

          - drifter starts gambit prime. shin watches

          - shin meets ghost for the first time after killing drifter while finding out about the two guardians who died permanently during drifter’s first tests of gambit prime, shin is polite and ghost is confused

          - drifter gives shin a jade coin, shin keeps it

         - they carry on with their own ‘lives’, shin following the dredgen names that drifter is feeding him and drifter further earning his spot and reputation in the tower, their relationship at this point is still tense and unsteady but neither of them is dead yet so... y’know

          - having returned to the tower and found out about umbral engrams and the modified banks used in contact events, shin - believing that drifter has gone against their fragile deal - confronted drifter about it. eventually, drifter agrees to show shin one of the pyramids on io. when placed in front of the first pyramid on io, shin has an adverse reaction to the presence of such oppressive darkness, drifter takes him back to the derelict - that’s the turning point

          - having hit a dry spell on the flow of names coming from drifter, shin finds himself face to face with dredgen yor leaving the annex. (duh duh duuuuhhh) not thinking, shin threatens yor - warning him to leave drifter alone and stay out of it. things go sour. the confrontation leaves shin on his knees and drifter with eight rounds from the last word in his stomach. yor leaves with a threat aimed at shin - drifter is healed by ghost when the coast is clear and shin retreats to the wilds

          - overwhelmed and confused by his own reaction to seeing someone who was seemingly, up until recent events, his enemy dying on the ground in front of him - shin takes his frustrations out on whatever he can find. multiple fallen settlements are reported to the vanguard as having been wiped out by huge surges of solar light. drifter searches for him for a week before giving up, deciding that shin didn’t want to be found and that he wasn’t coming back. still haunted by yor’s last words to him, shin continues on his rampage for two weeks before his ghost takes matters into her own hands

          - celia drops shin in the derelict and leaves him to drifter, drifter is angry with shin and punches him - telling him that if he wants to help, he can’t just leave like that. he tends to shin’s injuries (solar burns over half of his torso and left arm) and discovers that he’s light fatigued in the process - the decision is made for shin that he’s to stay on the derelict while he recovers, the both of them deeming it to be the safest place for him

          - drifter makes a deal with yor. he’ll keep shin on a short leash and in return yor will stay away from shin. shin doesn’t take the idea well at first but isn’t given much choice but to trust the rogue when it’s revealed to him that drifter is planning to find a way to kill yor in his throne world if he can just get close enough

         - drifter starts to see more and more of shin malphur without the oppressive covering of light that follows him everywhere. shin starts to understand the dark age drifter more and more, realising that what he knew about the light and the dark wasn’t right, starting to see why he sees the world the way he does and begins to understand the grey area between the two through the one person who would be able to show him

          - cooped up and stuck with each other for far longer periods of time than they’ve been used to, drifter discovers that shin can’t read confidently or write. during his recovery, drifter starts to teach shin to read and write whenever he gets the free time between gambit matches and writing reports for the vanguard

          - shin goes on his first ever date, and it’s with drifter

          - drifter gives shin unspoken truth, a handcannon designed to feel and work similar to the last word but without the infamous appearance - allowing shin to go undetected among the guardians and the tower

          - coming to the realisation that they’re both in deeper than they thought and becoming closer - starting to genuinely rely on each other more and more... the two of them make a promise - a promise to stay 

          - shin starts to wear one of drifter’s jade coins around his neck

          - shin starts playing gambit during his recovery, discovers that he can’t pick up or touch motes due to the high concentration and purity of the light he carries with him and instead focuses on invading - firmly planting himself as a formidable opponent in the new game mode

          - shin’s recovery takes four months in total

          - shin trusts drifter to help him mend his cloak, in the process, drifter learns of the real story behind shin malphur, the man with the golden gun. it’s in that moment that shin realises he wants to rid himself of the renegade once and for all

          - after meeting the emissary of the nine, shin is given the prophecy - drifter eventually relents and they go through the prophecy dungeon together, shin learning more about the nine and and shin sees drifter use his light for the first time

          - shin records ‘vale’

          - fully recovered from their first encounter and not being able to get yor out of his head or understand why he is where he is, shin leaves the derelict without telling drifter and searches yor out. he plans to talk, to ask the questions he’s never had answers for and hopes that the knowledge between them that shin can’t kill yor permanently anymore is enough to stay any bullets. it isn’t. shin draws and his light doesn’t react, he’s shot by thorn in the stomach and yor leaves him there to die - taking the last word with him when he leaves

          - celia sends drifter ‘vale’ prematurely, leaving drifter to assume the worst 

          - half dead and dying fast, shin manages to get back to the derelict before collapsing and drifter is there to pick up the pieces, saving shin’s life and removing the bullet before giving shin his bed to recover in. shin’s light capacity is permanently shrunk between his encounter with thorn and his light fatigue

          - the whispers tell shin his dredgen name while the bullet is being removed

          - drifter learns of celia’s manipulations and underhanded tactics that started the renegade in the first place and kept it going for far longer than it should have. his suspicions of ghosts are only confirmed when celia tells him that she wanted drifter to leave shin and give him back to her. the two of them have a heated conversation before celia eventually backs down - not understanding how drifter can want to keep a light such as shin’s to himself

          - drifter ghosts shin for two weeks, resulting in a heated argument the first time they talk after shin wakes up from his injuries. it’s revealed that shin hadn’t wanted to come to blows with yor, that he had only wanted to shed himself of the renegade persona once and for all in one final attempt to rid himself of yor when it becomes clear that he can’t kill his living nightmare

          - the renegade is retired

          - shin is left to recover on the derelict when it becomes clear that it’s the only safe place for him - essentially moving in living with drifter after that point, finding his first home since palamon

          - drifter give shin another coin, one to flip when he finds himself having to make a decision that he doesn’t have an answer to, a hundred years without thinking about what he actually wants rather than what he’s meant to be killing next becomes obvious when he loses his sole purpose in life up until a week ago

          - trying to find his way in a real life rather than one with a sole purpose like the renegade gave him, shin discovers the crucible. becoming infamous within the rings of regular players, he’s well known but still manages to keep his true identity a secret from the wider reaches of guardians - only a select few know exactly who he is and why he’s so good

          - whilst running what should have been a simple job between the two of them, drifter is shot in a darkness zone, during an ambush aimed at shin. if it wasn’t for shin managing to cauterise the wound with whatever they could find lying about, drifter would have died permanently. shin manages to get drifter back to the derelict without help and drifter is healed as far as his ghost can manage 

          - drifter is bedridden for two weeks, leaving shin to look after him during this time - the both of them realising just how much they need each other now. though this time neither of them try to run away or get out of it. they decide that they’re going to stay like this and that they wouldn’t mind staying together now that they’ve gotten this far

          - two months later, drifter gets the call from elsie bray - he leaves for europa the same day after getting shin to understand that he can’t follow with the high concentration of darkness that they’re going to be dealing with in europa. drifter leaves shin with a list of things to keep him busy and moving while he’s gone

          - shin is left alone and they communicate on and off throughout the time drifter is learning stasis, losing contact when the darkness proves challenging for drifter to control and work his way around

          - shin discovers drifter’s collection of star charts and navigational materials of years past, he decides that he doesn’t want to be involved in this war anymore

          - drifter gets back without having told shin about his learning stasis, their initial meeting doesn’t go to plan at all with shin reacting badly to the darkness surrounding drifter. it takes a week before they can be in the same room again comfortably and another week before things are back to almost normal again between them

          - shin poses that they leave the system once it becomes clear that a stasis filled earth isn’t somewhere he can exist in anymore. drifter obliges

#about / sliced me loose and said it was creation. i could feel the knife. #RIMESIDED / if there’s a light at the end. it’s just the sun in your eyes. #i slam this down on the dash #here have almost 2000 words of shindrift #as brought to u by ori and i #i lay down on the ground and don't move for a week

[phoenixfeatherquillwriting]

You Found Me (Songs Ask Game Fill)

Here it is as one Big Post TM for easier reading! 

@corasnowbooks said:  You Found Me - losing her, the only one who’s ever known // who I am, who I’m not and who I wanna be // no way to know how long she will be next to me :3 :3 :3 (have fun with that angst)

Trigger warnings: General angst, guns, blood, near-death experience. Please scroll past if these topics could cause you distress!

Aris and Tavi stood to the side, unable to do much in the formal proceedings, but watching anyway. Aris’ prosthetic hand clenched up right along with the rest of her, the sensitive bionic “nerves” inside causing it to curl into a fist without Aris’ conscious thought.

Tavi seemed more anxious than angry; she stood on her toes as if for takeoff and gave a low whistle. “I’ve got a bad feeling, Aris.”

She wanted to brush off her concerns: Tavi wasn’t psychic and she knew, logically, they were all tense with adrenaline. But Tavi’s gut feelings defied science and logic. Her intuition also tended to hit too close to the mark for comfort.

“Right” was all Aris could say, in acknowledgement.

Just then, J came into their line of sight. She wore a calm, neutral expression, but her measured steps and the steely straightness of her posture said that she was very much concentrating on holding herself together. A small crown sat on her head; she saw abdicating in her near future, but for now, J was officially Romatia’s head of state. Her sister Celia, and Ames, an army commander who had appointed herself J’s guard for the day, flanked her on either side.

They met a small contingent at the front steps to the parliamentary building. They were part of a militia of sorts, called themselves the Freedom Front. The current government had them classified as domestic terrorists, after what they had done to J’s family. But, their destructive, anti-crown sentiments were taking root in large swathes of the country, so J asked them to appoint a few representatives to come “to the table.” To negotiate, everyone hoped, for a peaceful division and perhaps transfer of power.

“Her Majesty, Queen Jewels von Delmont the First.” The page’s voice seemed too loud for the situation at hand, but Romatians tended to worry about propriety, so he insisted on carrying on as usual. Maybe it made what remained of the royal house and its bureaucrats feel more secure, to have a sense of control over the affair. He continued on: “The Queen shall receive Sirs Ambrose Hugh and Elliot Tesson for formal diplomatic negotiation today. May we all find peace together.”

J and Celia exchanged formal handshakes with the men. One of the onlookers who had accompanied the “visitors” spat at J’s shoes. The page grimaced. J ignored it. Aris and Tavi could just hear her greet them. “Good morning, gentlemen” she said, her voice polite with an undercurrent of something dark. “I believe you know me as ‘The Medieval Regime’.”

Clearly, they didn’t share J’s years of politics. Their faces were too open, their words not weighed enough. Not calculated. They looked stunned that she knew, that she was frank. But they really shouldn’t have been, in Aris’ mind. Contrary to the Freedom Front’s assertions, J did not live in a bubble. She knew what many of the people out on the street, or on the logging front, or on the sea, or in the barracks, were saying. Some chanting.

She turned and lead them inside.

*************************************

Waiting is hell” Aris announced.

“Yup” Tavi continued fidgeting. “Although you don’t usually seem to mind it.”

“I do not like this at all. If Joya* is going to conduct business with militiamen, I should be there.”

“Yup. She could use an attack bird, too.”

“To scare them all off?”

“Yu-”

“Don’t say it!”

Tavi stuck her tongue out, but did not say yup.

“How long do things like this usually go for?”

“You’d know better than me.” A reference to some of Aris’ previous career choices.

“Yes, well. Siab Phem* didn’t negotiate. She blackmailed.”

“Maybe. I’m sure J knows how to do that, though.”

Aris just sighed. Blackmail implied having leverage. At the moment, J had little to spare. She could out-maneuver them any day, but she didn’t have near as many resources and bodies as a royal house should. The Freedom Front had hacked it to pieces. She spoke to prevent thinking about the more literal implications of that. “Still have a bad feeling?”

By the defeated set of Tavi’s shoulders, she knew the answer.

Aris had mentally worked out three of the longest and most complex math formulas she knew by the time she heard J’s heels clicking down the hall. She and Tavi both jumped.

J met both of their eyes as she passed, but said nothing. Aris couldn’t gauge by her expression how well things had gone; her politician mask was still on and locked in tight. Celia too, was unreadable. Ames looked grim, but she nearly always did these days, so she tried not to jump to any conclusions.

She said something to the taller man, that one was Elliot Tesson, Aris was fairly sure. She reached out to shake his hand. His partner, Ambrose Hugh, pulled out a handgun.

*******************

It was in slow motion, but somehow still too fast for Aris to stop. She shouted, but didn’t hear it over the whooshing in her ears and the echoes in the hall. Ames shoved Celia away, seeing another gun in Tesson’s hands. She tackled him. He was closer, so he would have a closer target. But they’d planned it that way, a rouse.  There wasn’t even time for J to pull out her sword. Hugh pulled the trigger. One shot, two shots, bam-bam! J let out a blood-curdling scream.

On instinct, she knew that Tavi launched herself onto Hugh’s back and slammed him to the ground. But she did not look in their direction. All she saw was J on the floor. She skidded and dropped to her knees beside J, in a puddle of blood. More was steadily coming, as Aris tried to gauge where the bullets had gone. She shouted for anyone around to stay back.

One bullet had gone clean through, it appeared. There was a hole in J’s side, but it looked as through it might have bypassed J’s previously damaged left lung. There was another hole…in her chest wall. No exit. Oh Fates, don’t let it have gone to her heart.

She analyzed all this in less than a second before checking her pulse (weak, but present,) and timing her breathing (labored, but she was managing to cough.) She was at least somewhat conscious and looked stunned. Her eyes were huge, mouth open. She shuddered as the blood kept coming, as Aris tried to apply enough pressure to get it to clot.

“Joya, can you hear me? Give me some sign you can hear me.”

She croaked a sound, it looked like she was trying to say Ari. She raised her right hand like waving. Then she made pained sounds as Aris pushed.

“Right, good, okay. I know this hurts, darling, but I have to stop the blood. Hang on, Joya, just hang on.”

She shouted to the room at large, “I need a doctor, now!”

Celia had helped the others fight the two men amid the shots they kept making and handed them off to Ames’ comrades with their loud marching boots. (Ames had been forced to go with them, somehow both stony-faced and crying.)

With the task done and Ames gone, Celia now looked to be in hysterics, weeping uncontrollably. “But you are a doctor! You have to save my sister, she’s the only one left!”

“I’m a doctor in neuroscience! What we need is a surgeon! Celia, you must go out there for help!”

“Just save my sister!” she wailed.

“You have to help me save your sister!”

“We don’t have time for this! Aris, keep her going!” Tavi took Celia by the arm and bolted, her loud voice shouting “Emergency, emergency, the Queen needs help! We need a doctor right away!”

They were alone in the gilded halls of the parliament. Aris hoped J could keep “breathing and beating” as they used to say in grad school. She couldn’t do CPR and address J’s wounds at the same time. Who could have guessed she thought vaguely that Tavi’s bad feeling would be Joya bleeding out on my lap?

J’s eyes were starting to close.

“No! Hey! Don’t you dare give up on me!” She jostled J as much as she could without causing more damage. “You are the heart of your house, and the heart of this country now. And you are the love of my heart. So you can’t quit now. You must hold on, fight!”

More footsteps were coming. Please let it be someone who can help her.

Aris felt a firm squeeze to her flesh hand. J was looking right at her, eyes glassy, but expression firm and steeled. She was was holding on. Before J was lifted away, she mouthed “I love you.”

For a moment, all Aris could do was watch them put her on a gurney and begin to wheel her away. She would be whisked off to an operating room somewhere; they had to get the bullet out of her chest. She felt Tavi shaking her, smelled the gun powder and the sickly sweet aroma of blood. She grabbed the other bullet off the ground before Tavi lifted her.

She felt like addressing the Fates themselves. I don’t care how long you give me, but she isn’t out of time yet. There’s more to do. Put her back next to me again.  Please don’t let me lose her.

Terms to Know

*Joya=Aris’ Constellan nickname for J, the literal English translation is  “little jewel.” Constellan is much more poetic than English, though, so a native would translate it as something like “a small, bright, and precious treasure.” Pronounced “joe-yah.”

*Siab Phem=Constellan phrase meaning roughly “evil incarnate.” Aris, Rissa, and Ione refer to their former employ by this name, to lessen the power and fear associated with that person’s given name. Prouncounced “sigh-ab fem.”

#dove writes #the political intrigue in romatia continues #angst #guns tw #blood tw #dove's useless ocs #OC: J #OC: Aris #OC: Tavi #OC OTPs #Aris/J #Tavi/J #OTP: Sword and Shield #OTP: Royal Air #mine

[tuntematonkorppi]

1, 6, 21, 29

1 - if someone wanted to really understand you, what would they read, watch, and listen to?

vast question my friend. alright, in no particular order:

read:  

American Gods and Neverwhere by Neil GaimanJust Kids and M Train by Patti SmithAfter Dark by Haruki MurakamiOn the Road by Jack KerouacHis Dark Materials by Philip PullmanShades of Magic by VE SchwabWitch Child by Celia ReesWaiting for Godot by Samuel BeckettSlaughterhouse Five by Kurt VonnegutLittle Women by Louisa May AlcottHowl by Allen Ginsberg

and anything by HP Lovecraft, Edgar Allan Poe, Charles Baudelaire, Ryu Murakami, Claude Ponti, TS Eliot, Wilfred Owen, Neil Gaiman and Patti Smith

watch (tv shows):

LeverageThe PunisherDaredevil (only for Karen and Frank)ElementaryDGHDAWynonna Earp (only s1 tbh)The Killing (US)American GodsJessica Jones (s1)PreacherStargate SG1 (my entire childhood tbh)Face Off

watch (movies):

The Fifth Element - Luc BessonRogue One - Gareth EdwardIncendies - Denis VilleneuveHunger - Steve MCQueenLast Days - Gus Van SantStalker - TarkovskiThe Winter Soldier - Russo BrotherBlade Runner - Ridley ScottTrainspotting - Danny BoyleOslo, August 31st - Joachim TrierWeekend - Andrew HaighAtlantis the Lost Empire - Gary TrousdaleMoon - Duncan JonesVals Im Bachir - Ari FolmanLa Commune (Paris 1871) - Peter WatkinsAnastasia - Don Bluth

listen to:

EOS 10 (podcast)Welcome to Night Vale (podcast)Limetown (podcast)Wolf 359 (podcast)

anything by Pink Floyd, David Bowie, Nirvana, The Distillers, Patti Smith, Neil Young, Roger Waters, Olafur Arnalds, Godspeed You! Black Emperor, Comeback Kid, Rise Against, Mogwai, Saez, Massive Attack, Deftones, Radiohead and 65daysofstatic

specific albums:

Requiem for Hell by MonoOpuscule by LandThe Golden Age by WoodkidKaiho by KauanThe Earth is Not A Cold Dead Place by Explosions in the SkyPanik by PanikNot Meant to Be by Bonefield

well that wasn’t long at all. next question!

6 - are you religious/spiritual?

not at all. i grew up in a roman catholic/greek catholic family and i still like the imagery and global aesthetic but i never believed. 

21 - do you love easily?

romantically? lol nope, pretty sure i’m aro.

29 - three songs that you connect with right now.

thank you!!

Identity Asks

#setmeatopthepyre #replies

[cartoonfangirl1218]

Winner’s Curse Ch. 23

“You have got to be kidding me? No, no no way! Jay, get over here!” Jade yelled, unusually excited by a flutter of paper.

Jay tore his gaze away from the sight of the rising sun. A sight that when he was little, he’d pretend he was in the Agrabah Jafar had told him about. How the rising sun burned like the fires of the Jewel of Destiny. The sand gleamed like the golden minarets that were worth two ships of gold. The oasises as colorful and bright as emeralds and rubies.

It all led back to gold. Beauty in riches.

He knew better now than to believe his dad’s golden rule, but at sights like this, he couldn’t help but remember that feeling. Of wonderment, of desperate longing to see it for himself but feeling, knowing that he never would.

But he did know better. He did know better. He wasn’t going to fall for his dad’s sneaky, snaky words. Or for his hypnosis.

Damn it, he was Jayal iban Jafar, prince of thieves, king of lies, captain of tourney and R.O.A.R. He was powerful, fast, strong. He shouldn’t have broken out of the mind control himself!

“Jaaaay,” Jade called again.

“Right, coming.” Jay crouched to where Jade was regally reclining on her pile of cushions, holding the slip of paper aloft like a royal scroll. “One of Celia’s shadows sent this. She and Yzla tried to scry and get a message to King Ben. But they got something so so much better!” Jade explained reading the front side of the paper, “Apparently, the Coven already has some contacts inside Auradon that are helping them with the invasion. And they’re kids of the heroes. Ah!”

“You are way too happy about this.” Jay smirked at his cousin’s delighted squawk.

“Come on! A hero’s kid is helping their parents’ villain?! Oh and those Aks acted like they were so much better than us. It’s so perfect! Anyway, do the names Kyro, Victoria Porter, Morgaine Le Fey or Alexandria ring a bell to you?”

Jay shook his head, “Not really. I guess Morgaine Le Fey is Morgana’s daughter, but I don’t know about the others. I didn’t really hang out outside of my friends.”

“Good choice, who’d want to be friends with those whiny, pampered bitches.” Jade smiled knowingly.

Jay smiled back, “Took the words out of my mouth.” Okay maybe he wouldn’t have used the word, “bitches,” but once upon a time he would have. Now… he hated to admit but some of FG’s lessons had snuck in. He was more hesitant about using vulgar language. It unnerved him to realize that cursing was yet another thing that Auradon had changed in him.

Though he still did it sometimes to shock the princes like Chad who acted like he had murdered a puppy or something when he uttered the word, “Shit.”

But it still wasn’t the same.

Isle Jay hadn’t been so soft, so considerate of others.

Isle Jay wouldn’t have allowed himself to have looked at his fathers staff. He would have made some sort of distraction, talked his dad into letting him go, anything other than stupidly looking into the staff that he knew would make him a pawn.

What’s more Isle Jay wouldn’t have gotten tricked and captured in the first place, allowing his dad a chance to hypnotize him.

No Isle Jay disappeared the moment that he chose goodness over the wand. But what did that leave him with?

He was loyal now, he was the big brother. A big brother that hadn’t protected his friends from anything.

He was no help to Carlos and his nightmares.

He was no help to Mal when she was stressed and shunned by the public media as Ben’s consort.

He couldn’t help Evie against the invisible insecurities that haunted her head from sixteen years of grooming by her mother.

He hadn’t saved Ben from getting captured by pirates last time he was here. He had forgotten how bad the Isle was and forgot about the kids still left here….

He protected no one. He helped no one.

Maybe he was still the son of Jafar, through and through. He had helped no one but himself.

And he hadn’t done a good job of that either as this mission had shown.

He was Auradon Jay in being soft, easily tricked and hypnotized.

He was the worst of both worlds.

“Jaay, seriously are you sure you're not suffering from post hypnosis syndrome or something official like that?” Jade thwacked him on the head.

“I’m fine!” Jay punched her back in the arm.

“You better go tell Uma about this. It sounds important.” Jay pushed her away before she could pounce on him for a headlock. “Come with,” Jade gestured, but Jay shook his head.

“No. Remember, I’m supposed to be a hypnotized slave. Why would you take me around for a “girl’s convo,” he put air quotes around the excuse Jade used to her mother whenever she went to Uma’s room.

“You’re my slave, I can do what I want. Like how Cruella drives Jace and Harry around with her for everything.”

“Fine,” Jay cracked his neck and tensed up into the rigid state of hypno-him. He forced himself to walk robotically, letting his mind wander off into various thoughts, the most troubling recurring one of his father, so it looked like the blankness of a hypnotized pawn.

He hated trying to assume the position even though he knew it was necessary. It gave him the painful cramping, pins and needles feeling even though it was a short walk across the hall.

Jade fluttered the paper gleefully under Uma’s nose before the blue-haired sea witch snatched it out of her hands.

The rest of the group, Calix, Gil, Harry, Aziz, and Jordan crowded around to read the tiny writing until Uma read it aloud for them all. Jordan and Aziz, the only two who actually knew of the people looked shocked. Identical expressions of disbelief and surprise covering their faces, and causing Jade to burst into a not so discreet cackle.

“But- but Victoria Porter is a.. She’s a lady. She’s British for Allah sake! She wants to be a royal guard, why would she join the Coven! She doesn’t even have powers!” Jordan cried.

“And Alexandria cares way too much about her royal reputation to do this. Calix you dated her, isn’t Morgaine a sorceresss? Is she hypnotizing them or something?” Aziz pestered Calix who only opened and closed his mouth wordlessly.

“It doesn’t matter why they’re with the Coven or if they’re under duress. What’s important is that we know they’re working with them. We have to find a way to send a message to King Ben.” “We could use Celia’s shadow creatures,” Jade suggested, “That’s how she sent the message to me in the first place.”

“We’ll try that. And I’ll send a message in a bottle with a genie girl as a backup.” Uma confirmed, “Next, we’ll see if we can get Celia to scry for more information like what entry points this mini Coven is creating for the Coven to enter through.”

“I can help with that,” Calix added, “But what do the-how do I put this delicately, what do the rest of the non powered people do?”

“Harry, Gil, you go back to the crew and see how the fight training is going. Aziz, Jade, Jay, you… go keep your cover.” Uma directed the last one dismissively, leaving no question what she thought of their usefulness.

And it sparked a memory inside Jay. Memories since it happened more than once. Jafar was utterly disinterested in Jay unless he had something to steal. A day he came home with empty hands and a black eye.

“Just go.” “Go find something valuable.” “Get out of my sight!”

Commands he had obeyed without a question. No better than a spineless henchman. Or a brainless pawn.

Well Jay had his own mind. Ever since he left the Isle, he’d been standing up to what he wanted out of his life, not his dad. Just because he was back on the Isle, didn’t mean he was going to go back to obeying others without a question.

“What’s wrong, Shrimpy? Afraid I’m going to upstage you if you let me help?” Jay mocked, striding to Uma.

Like muscle memory, his body tensed for a fight. Clenching an dunclenching his fists, purposely stooping to Uma’s eye level, forcing everyone to acknowledge that he was taller and stronger than her. He flexed his muscles, and separated his legs for better balance. And he smirked. The smirk that made many a thug want to punch his lights out before ending up on the ground on their backs.

Anticipation rushed up his spine and he could taste the memory of blood on his tongue. He missed this adreneline….

Uma glared, not taking a step back as most opponents usually did. That would make a punch more difficult since he wouldn’t be able to get enough leverage, but then again he could always sweep her legs from under her.

“I’m not scared of you upstaging me. I’m not scared of you, period. I’m ordering you back to your post so this mission can continue successfully.” Uma gritted through her teeth, her eyes flashing a stormy teal much like the ocean outside the broken barrier.

That only made Jay’s fury mount. The deliberate calmness in her tone, like she was placating Jay by listening but knew that Jay would obey her anyway.

“You’re not the boss of me.” Jay growled.

“Well your pretty purple dragon “boss” is all the way over in Auradon so she can’t make your decisions anymore. You-”

“I can make my own decisions,” Jay yelled but Uma still didn’t back down, “I’m the only one here who could best all of you in a fight so I think you should be very careful how you speak to me or I’’ll-”

“You’ll be bleeding on the floor with your throat slit, that’s what you’ll be.” Harry finished, caressing the back of Jay’s head with his hook. The cold metal point just barely touching the nape of his neck.

Jay cursed himself for forgetting that others were watching and allowing Harry to get the advantage over him. He was better than this. He used to be better at this. Rule number 3 and 4 on the Isle was to always be aware of your surroundings and always on guard.

Jay snorted, clenched his fist and backed away from Uma. Harry only leaving his back until Jay was reasonable distance away. Jay saw the rest of them staring. Not the usual faces of awe, bloodlust and excitement that would be expressed by the onlookers of Isle tassels. No, these were the looks of tension, fear and concern.

Great, if the rest of the group hadn’t thought he was entirely useless and manipulatable from the hypnotized by Jafar incident, now they would all think was too hot headed to be trusted.

The looks from Jordan and Aziz were not as concerned or shocked as the others They were more neutral as if they expected this behavior.

Yet another example confirming for them that he was just a junior Jafar.

Frustrated with the uneasy feeling of a burnt ego, Jay stalked out, mumbling, “I’ll go back to my post.”

He shouldn’t have left Auradon. He shouldn’t have. He was the worst of both worlds. Too soft for the Isle now, but still a capital V, VK in Auradon.

He missed his friends, and he missed the feeling of a team more than ever.

In tourney, Coach Jenkins emphasized that to make a mission succeed, everyone had to respect each other.

Though there were some exceptions, mainly Chad, Jay believed that wholeheartedly. He trusted Herkie to always have everyone else’s back as backup support and respected how the demigod tried to be mindful of his strength. He trusted Carlos to always come up with the best strategies and be a sneaky wild card, and he respected Carlos as one of his best friends.

Trust and respect, those were the main ingredients for missions and games to work because no matter how the plan went off the rails, at least he could count on the others to pick up slack without feeling like they resented him.

Here, it was all resentment and distrust. Jay had thought he didn’t care about their opinions, and he still didn’t think he did. But it was exhausting to deal with the eye rolls when he suggested an idea or knowing that his every move, his every mistake was scrutinized as confirming their opinions of him.

They were Auradonians, weren’t they supposed to at least pretend to trust him, and believe in him and second chances?

Jay almost slammed the door behind him in Jade’s room but remembered that wouldn’t have fit with his cover as “mindless hypnotized fool” so he settled for closing it gently.

He needed an outlet for his anger that slamming the doors and punching Harry would have given him but the only choice was to punch pillows.

So he did it. It frustrated him at first. The pillows were too soft and could never match the satisfaction of crunching bones and skin but he kept at it. He let his ranger take over as he imagined the faces of Uma, Harry, Jafar, Jordan, Aziz and all the other assholes that had been ordering him around and keeping him in his place as a nothing. Unemployed thief. Jafar junior. Mindless pawn.

Sweat dripped down and plastered his hair to his neck but he kept going. Fluff began to spill from the pillows and his nails dug into his palms but he kept going. He kept going until he reached the bottom of the pillow pile, finding relief in the feel of splintered gravel against his knuckles.

He huffed, sanking to his knees and swiped his sweaty hair off his back, waiting for his pulse and breath to get back to normal. Once his blood stopped rushing in his ears, he heard the sound of slow clap. He whipped around to his feet to see Jade in her ornate sari, her emerald rings gleaming from the gilt edges decorating the room.

“What do you want?” Jay blew out a breath.

“Want to talk about your feelings?”

Jay choked on a laugh. He didn’t know what he expected Jade to say but that definitely wasn’t it. In fact, she sound so unsure and hesitant while asking, it sounded like she was questioning him what feelings were.

“Why-why would you want to know that?”

Jade and he never talked.

Actually no one talked on the Isle. Feelings were a weakness after all. But Jade and he never had a reason to talk. It wasn’t that kind of relationship. They were thieves in arms and…

If Jay was being honest, he hadn’t thought Jade really had feelings.

Sure she got happy and pissed, But the emotional wringers Carlos and Evie went through… the pressure that Mal tried so hard to pretend it didn’t get to her, Jay hadn’t thought Jade ever felt that. Or would want to hear someone else’s sob story.

But Jade, while nervous, was clear eyed and looking at him expectantly.

If there was anyone who’d get what living under the shadow of Jafar was like, Jade would get it.

Still he started with a joke, feeling a shred of embarrassment at his emotion-fueled rage, “Guess I do have post hypnosis syndrome. Heh, it kinda.. I don’t want to be ordered around, you know.” “If it makes you feel better, she treats me like I’m an easily hypnotized idiot too, and I haven’t even met her till now.” Jade settled down on the ottoman, gracefully smoothing her dress around her.

“Yeah, that’s Shrimpy. Bossy sea witch and pain in the ass trying to assert her authority. She still hasn’t gotten over, Mal beating her.” Jay semi-explained. Jade nodded and paused, clearly waiting.

Jay tensed, he never thought talking about his feelings would be this hard. He knew Jade wouldn’t judge him too much but still…

Through clenched teeth Jay said, “It’s just… before I got hypnotized I had realized, I never- I never thought what I’d do if I saw Dad again. I’m not like Mal or the others. I don’t care about his opinion. He doesn’t care about mine. He doesn’t care about me. But I-”

“But you do care.” Jade finished softly.

Jay thought of the first glimpse he had of his dad, returned back to his former glory. The way his pointed robe loomed over him, the snakey slit of his eyes as he grinned with perverse delight of a fate awaiting Jay that he didn’t know about.

The feeling sent a dip in his stomach and shudder in his chest. A feeling that Jay never gave words for until now.

“I was scared.” Jade didn’t say anything and that compelled Jay to continue talking, something to fill the silence that he was afraid was going to be replaced by tears if he didn’t stop himself.

“I was scared because I know I betrayed him and I didn’t know what he’d do with me. But yeah, I also cared about him too. I was scared and.. and guilty. I disappointed him.I hate it. I hate that! I know he’ll never care about me so why can’t I just stop caring about him? Nothing will ever make him care for me.” “That- that also makes it worse. I spent sixteen years of my life doing nothing. I stole and lied and became a master thief for nothing. I let him insult me, and hit him, and ignore me for nothing. I was never going to get the big score, I was never going to be anything but a burden or something he cared about.”

“I still cared for him, and… until he hypnotized me, some stupid part of me thought he cared too. Not a lot but. You know, Dad. He only hypnotizes people he sees as pawns or just idiots.” “And he hypnotized you.” Jade said matter of factly.

“Yeah, he hypnotized me. He could have used me or blackmailed, all conscious and self aware, to do something for him. He knows I’m a good thief, but-”

“He hypnotized you because he’d rather have a controlled pawn than a brilliant master thief of a son.” Jade put in words.

Jay nodded wordlessly, rubbing his face from the tears he felt burn in the back of his eyes but weren’t visible. “I thought I was better than the others, you know.” Jay said, not needing to clarify, “I thought I didn’t care about my dad so I didn’t have nightmares like they did. I was like their big brother.”

He snorted, thinking back to the kids scrounging through the trash cans, “I suck as a big brother but they still think that of me.” “Why do you suck?” Jade asked with genuine curiosity.

“I tell them that if we ever met our parents again, I’d fight for them. I’d pound anyone who hurt them. Villain or royal. But when I faced my dad. An illusion of my dad actually, I froze. Sure, I can say I’ll protect them, but what if when something actually happens, I freeze again? I haven’t done anything to actually help them.”

Jade looked thoughtful, “Well according to Yzla, Yen Sid said that part of helping is just listening and comforting people. And that’s what you do with Mal, Evie and Carlos. You’re a great big brother. As for freezing up. I think you’d fight to defend them. You froze with Jafar because… well it’s harder to fight your family.”

Jay listened, already feeling a weight lift from Jade’s words. Reminding himself that he fought Uma and her crew for his friend’s sake, and he fought Maleficent too back at Coronation. Maybe he wasn’t such an imposter of a big brother as he thought…

“You know, for someone who is getting to Anti Villain Club lessons by letter, you’re pretty good.” Jay nudged her shoulder.

Jade flick a bang back and smiled smugly, “I’m a quick study.”

The settled into comfortable silence, a feeling that was strange to him since he like dbeing as active as possible, but it was also nice. Calm, actually it made him want to fall asleep.

“So what about you? Anything you want to talk about?” Jay asked.

Jade looked like a deer caught in the headlights as the tables flipped to her. She pursed her lips, looked away and then looked back at him, “Nothing much. Just glad we had the chance to talk.” She sounded nonchalant as she answered but Jay could see the little Jade ticks that clued she was lying.

She sounded too carefree which Jay knew Jade never was. She was always looking for an angle.

“What’s in it for you? Why are you so into us talking?” Jay questioned.

“You know, you get it. Living with someone like our parents.” Jade mumbled, playing with the ring on her finger, “Being disappointments. Though I’d rather be hypnotized as punishment than what Mom usually does.”

Jay closed his eyes, the guilty weight came crashing back. He heard the rumors, of course. Nasira’s temper was legendary, and Jade was the best at makeup covering bruises but he hadn’t tied it together. Or at least he did, but shrugged it off since so many of them dealt with the blows given by their parents. There was no need to check on her.

Jade was Jade. She was tough, she was fine.

But the abuse did bother her. Just like everyone else. She lied that she was fine.

And Jay fell for that lie just like everyone else. Hook, line and sinker.

Some prince of lies he was.

“Jade I’m so-”

“Don’t feel guilty about not being a good brother. I never needed you as a brother.” Jade shoved him a bit as if physical distance would separate the emotional boundaries they were crossing.

Jay wanted to ask more, to argue that wasn’t true. That if he could have been there for Mal, Carlos and Evie, he could have been there for her too. But he also knew there was no point. It already happened in the past.

“You’re right. But we’ll talk from now on.”

Jade looked at him, straight in the eye, which would have meant something if they both weren’t skilled at lying with direct eye contact.

Jay slipped a gold seashell he pickpocketed from Uma into her hand. Jade smiled and handed him her emerald ring. It was a deal.

“I know you prefer your friends, but if you ever need to, I can be like your fourth option. When you feel like you can’t be a big brother.” Jade murmured.

“Hmm mm,” Jay hummed, admiring the green glint of the ring. No scratches on it. This was genuine jewelary instead of the costume junk that was usually found on the Isle.

“Though I guess I’m your sixth option if you go to Aladdin’s royal brats before me,” Jade laughed and Jay snorted derisively at such an unlikely scenario.

Though he had grown to be patient with royals, those two were still incredibly annoying. Worse so, since their families were interconnected as enemies. Other classmates always asked if he got along with them or if he was going to visit Agrabah, and he’d mutter something noncommittal and leave. He didn’t want to pick a fight with them and bring back all the anti-VK mobs again. He’d rather leave them alone and they do the same.

Though he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to visit Agrabah. He wanted to see the storied bazaar of spices and treasures and millions of other items under the blazing sun. Or the golden dome of the palace. Or parkour on the roofs himself.

But then he’d have to accept the invitation to live in the Sultan’s palace and he wasn’t sure he would survive a week with them without majorly offending someone. Or punching someone.

Aziz was okay. He never brought up the Jafar connection, he didn’t make obvious ploys of aggression like Chad. Aziz even invited Jay to Agrabah himself at Aladdin’s behest. But Jay could see it in his eyes that Aziz wanted Jay to say no. The slight sneer when Jay got the penalty box for aggressiveness or see the tell-tale twinkle of a stolen bracelet slip out of Jay’s pockets that said Aziz fully believed Jay to be his father’s son.

Passive aggressive really which annoyed Jay more since that was such a girl thing to do. If Aziz was an actual man he’d screw the nicieties and fight.

Jordan was more upfront, announcing it to the room when he stole something. Eyes cutting to him expectedly when there was news of a brawl. Outright threatening him if he got near her, her lamp or Aziz.

Yeah, they were not his favorite Auradonians.

So unlike the happily ever after stories of his friends of Evie dating Dough or Carlos romping with the 101 dalmations, he was not on the road to reconciliation with his father’s enemies.

So no Agrabah for him.

He didn’t care. Unlike his dad, he truly didn’t care about their opinions. Except for the missed vacation destination.

Besides, even though he wasn’t befriending Aladdin like others expected. He still had Coach Jenkins as a mentor.

Though it wasn’t quite the same. Coach Jenkins made a conscious effort not to favor one of his athletes over the other. And Jay didn’t feel like inviting himself over to Coach’s family dinners. It would be too awkward. And too pathetic.

Well at least he had Jade. Though it would get some getting used to in thinking of her as someone as family even though they literally were. They had both been so used to the “No Team in I” family philosophy. And then Jay had been consumed by his role as big brother, that he hadn’t felt it right to burden his friends. After all, he was fine compared to them.

But that was going to change, and now, he had a new ally on his side to feel less alone.

#jay #jade #uma #winner’s curse #my fanfic #my fanfiction #disney descendants #chapter twenty three

[renegadesrpg]

Dark Angels: Creation. Part 34. Getting the Band Back Together. Sean, Adrian, Zav, and Bryn

Sean: *After misting back to the cottage, I give Layla a quick kiss and step out onto the front porch*

 ‘What’s up?’

 Adrian: *After connecting with Sean I had reached out to Zav and Bryn. Both were with us as I answered.

 ‘Truly was attacked by rogue reapers. She’s unhurt but Sin agrees that we’re being tracked or followed. He wants us to meet him in Brazil.’

  Sean: *Adrian’s touch in my mind was deft but I’d felt him link the other two after contacting me.*

 ‘Do we know how we’re being tracked? Are the wards in danger? I’m not crazy about leaving Layla if there’s even a remote chance they could be breached.’

  Zav: *As I said goodbye to Truly, I’d thought to find Sin myself, but Adrian must have been a step ahead of me. I rematerialize near the bend of the road we’d initially come in on and focus.*

 ‘The wards will hold. I placed the same ones around Truely’s home and place of business and I’m confident in them.  I don’t know how the rogues and demons are tracking us. Once we mist away we’re undetectable until we reform and as we reform inside the wards, they don’t know where we are. What I want to know is why they aren’t attacking us when we’re on duty.’

  Bryn: ‘Scrying mirror and a witch on tap. Has to be. Hell has enough of those that went dark side to be able to constantly be watching for us to appear and we know the Horseman has allied himself there. But once we’ve left a place by dematerializing they lose us and if we are reforming behind the wards, the scrying mirror is blocked. When we show up again, they probably send out scouts to see if we’re in a vulnerable position and only attack if they think they have the upper hand. They’re probably /always/ tracking us, but guys, I hate to point this out, your females are your Achilles heels and that’s when they make their move. They’re banking that you’ll take stupid chances when you think the girls are vulnerable. We’ve set it up so that when we’re on duty we’re always in pairs and these boys are looking for easy kills. One of us is hard to kill, but two? They have to have leverage and they think that your females are it.’

  Sean: ‘They’re fools.’  *growling*  ‘All it does is give us more to fight for. But it may be more than that. Yeah, they’re trying to get at Zav and me through Truly and Layla, but in their minds it’s win-win, whether they succeed or not. They think it will put the commanders of the reaper corps into discord and force Zav and me to protect our females at the expense of our responsibilities to the corps.  That only works to their benefit, regardless of if they suspect anything, but honestly?  I think the Horseman is getting suspicious.

Sin has put a block up that keeps the Horseman from pulling our strings. That’s more power than any of us have on our own. Sin’s touch is subtle, but if the Horseman has tried to jerk any of us into line lately and failed, he’s going to want to know why. Add to it that we all go off radar when we aren’t on active duty and he’s got to be starting to put two and two together. He and Sin have had a mutual détente going on for so long that the Horseman won’t easily believe he would break it, although admittedly, Sin /had/ been taking private requests to right the Horseman’s wrongs from the Fates for some time before we recruited him back to us, so if the Horseman thinks that he’s beginning to see Sin’s hand in this he’d still want confirmation. Still, the assignments have come directly from the Fates, so the Horseman may not have connected Sin’s activities with a rebellion in his ranks.  But with the other factors he still has to suspect the four of us have decided to try to put a stop to him taking innocents before their time and the creation of this fourth column in our ranks.’

 Adrian: *Nodding thoughtfully to myself*

‘He thought that the women would create, through Sean or Zav, the weak link.  I doubt his aim was to actually kill either female, at least not right off, but to use them as leverage to get one of you to confirm Sin is preparing to challenge him or to reveal our plans before he acts. Since they’ve failed to take either Layla or Truly, it’s a sound bet that the Horseman will start questioning the reapers loyal to us and he still /can/ pull their strings. He has full access to their souls and he’s already shown he doesn’t give a damn about any of us.’

 Sean: ‘And if they break we’re screwed. Sin is the key to winning this and our fighters joined us because they believe he can set the worlds back to rights. If any of them break, we lose all of our strategic advantage. The Horseman will go for him at a time and place not of our choosing.  We’ve got to move soon.’

 Adrian: ‘I believe that’s Sin’s conclusion too. So say your goodbyes to your women, boys. You’ll either come back with your shields or on them.

  Bryn: *mentally I raise an amused eyebrow* ‘Are you going all Spartan warrior on us Adrian?’

  Adrian: *speaking simply* I’ve never been anything else. Reaper or not, what we were in life stays with us.

  Sean: *And by all accounts Adrian had been one hell of a Spartan warrior. I knew first hand there was no one of us who was more of a true, focused warrior than he is. Even though I didn’t like the reminder of what could happen, I have to respect that he faces that head on. Still, gotta keep everyone on task here.

 ‘Ok, kids, enough. Layla and I’ve made bugout plans for her and she has a way to watch. Do Truely and Celia know what to do? How to know if they need to go?’

  Zav: *silently I swear at myself. I’m pretty sure the others can hear it as well.*

 ‘Creator damn it, no. There was so much going on and I was trying so hard not to freak Truely out more than she already was that I didn’t address it. But surely Celia will know. If Declan escapes, he can get to them. He’s not been to Truely’s to be able to mist directly to it but his true mate link with Celia should help him find them quickly and find a place to escape to.

  Bryn: *I’m not an empath but I can pretty much read Zav’s mind after all this time. He’s kicking himself right now*

 ‘You won’t have to rely on that. I’ve got something in mind that will let them both watch what happens. It won’t take long for me to have it ready and I’m sure, regardless of how fast Sin wants to act, there will be time to get it to her. As far as plans, you’ve got a phone don’t you? And you can link to Celia’s mind. Send them to Danu if we fall. Shifter magic is earth magic and she’ll welcome them to Tir Nan Og for as long as she can hold it. I’ll include a charm that lets them contact Danu if it goes south.’

  Sean: ‘Good plan Bryn. Boudicca’s strategist strikes again.

 What about the souls of the rogues that attacked you Adrian?  I’m assuming they’re very dead. Are they stowed away?’

 Adrian: ‘I put them in a Dybbuk box and left them in Death Valley with the one that holds the demon souls. They’ll need to be retrieved and disposed of when this is over.’

  Bryn: ‘No sweat, Yvette. I’ll handle it.’ *shrugging mentally* And if we all die, they can just rot there in their own personal purgatories.’

  Zav: *My heart settles a little, although I can’t believe I didn’t prepare for this. I just I didn’t expect it to go down this fast or for Truely to actually accept what I am so quickly.*

 ‘Thanks, Bryn. I appreciate your help.’

  Bryn: ‘Just get your butt to Brazil so we can see what the fearless leader’s timetable is. I still have to lay the trap and that’s going to take a few hours but I didn’t want to do it too soon and have even the remote risk it would be discovered. So that gives you and Sean time for your goodbyes afterwards, if we’re moving that fast. Adrian can come cover my back while I set it.’

  Zav: *I gotta smile. Bryn is that annoying little sister that somehow always has it together.*

 ‘Roger that, reaper-witch. I’m on my way.’  *Breaking contact, I mist away to the safe house in Brazil.*

  Sean:  ‘Adrian, set up the dining room as a conference table for us. I’ll be there shortly.’

 *Closing my mind to them, I go to find Layla. She needs to get ready to move.*

  Bryn: ‘Give me a few minutes and I’ll be in to help, Adrian. I’m out in my workshop and I want to get those items for Zav.’  

  Adrian: ‘Take your time. Zav just arrived and I can get him to be the muscle,’ *laughing and dodging as he throws a punch at my shoulder.*

 ‘I think Sin will be a few minutes anyway. My best guess is he had a couple of things to do before leaving Hawaii anyway or he would have contacted all of you himself.’

 *Dropping the mental link, I turn to Zav,* Ok, let’s get set up.

  #TBC

#DarkAngelsCreation #Renegades #RRPG #AU #BDB #Reapers #Vampires #Wolfen #Angels #Ghosts

[modern-walk]

Today's Hair Is Called I Drive A Defender T Shirt From AllezyGo

GRAMS ERUPTS AFTER A Today's Hair Is Called I Drive A Defender T Shirt From AllezyGo DOCUMENT REVEALS THE FBI LIED TO CONGRESS IN THE LAST ARTICLE WE HAVE IS THE SENATE CHAIRMAN SUBPOENAS FBI DIRECTOR RAY FOR RUSSIA GAVE RECORDS PUTS BY NON NOTICE OVER UKRAINE DEALINGS SO THIS IS GOING TO BECOME HOTTER AND HOTTER AS WE MOVE INTO DEFTLY THE NEXT SEVERAL WEEKS AND AS I UNDERSTAND IT THE BAR HAS NOT PUT ANY RESTRICTIONS ON DURHAM TO NOT CONTINUE TO FILE CHARGES AND THIS IS DEEP WITHIN THE OBAMA ADMINISTRATION ACTIONS WE FOUND AN ARTICLE THE BASICALLY CLAIMS THERE ON THOSE ART EARTHQUAKES THAT ARE HAPPENING THERE ACTUALLY UNDERGROUND TUNNELS BEING USED TO TRAFFIC CHILDREN NOW WE HEAR THERE’S AN UNDERGROUND WARD WHERE YOU GET TO THAT LATER IN THIS REPORT BUT IT JUST MORE MORE EVIDENCE THAT HOW THEY TAKE THESE CHILDREN AND. By clenching Joe Biden was vice president and president Obama made sure Alaska’s trips had a say on how these waters are managed now trunk took it away we must elect the president to respect her voices protector waters and address climate change Alaska just seven votes Bernie Sanders and Clovis for the next president Joe Biden American Samoa I about the governor will and the Americans are more Democratic Party made me 11 votes for next president of United States of America go by and the union organizer to make sure you Arkansas game people that I do love that I think we all can use a little extra love these days so we took our contract out to the community deliver meals made right here and claim presidential Center for our neighbors in need even our leaders let us down Americans Looking out for each other Arkansas cast nine votes for Bernie Sanders and 27 votes for our next president Joe Biden California Colorado on I grew up in poverty as immigrants we been able to make a decent living. In the worldand what is not whether one outand as we later show in the entire galaxy overand I had a great weekend I saw that I cannot the county certifies me back home in Los Angeles on today’s show wonder woman so could be an parol metal gear solid gets a Kong size upgradeand we are not pronounced hostels hostile’s you can be hostile to someone but if you see a bunch of people who are scary they are hostile to the house tiles that something styles of the familyand things are ready for designer can’t coming out this weekand was amazing it was so crowded that it’s moving to Anaheim next year what’s up go next year was made thousand tanks will understand that he was McConnell video this morning I does every morning before I shut I like that athletic move is your new that that’s from that’s also the rest good writers in our Aussie ready to wrestle Josh Pasadena remotely had a nice weekend I’m assuming is well seen in movies this weekend toand would like to talk about all theand all will foreshadowing for now there are first story is one for to be believed in return for wonder woman into next energyand production company from the follow up team will be for one element with the thinking encouraging radio to drop very importantand already contracted to return for a wonderful people is certainly the current WB with the Internet that might when you think about how they’re not part of the plane windowand the people of the well in this rumor is actually trueand everybody is weakand was covering it primarily as a rumor but it does speak to something that could be going on in Hollywood right now where you wonder where the powershift is a me just like in the movie wonder woman he came out was such a box officeand critical success in our Patty Jenkins suddenly have more clout to negotiate a higher contract so you will get the history of Hollywood from its inception all the way to where we are now aware that had so much power not even is talking about dollarsand cents but also in being able to snap their fingers make decisionsand greenlight things Patty Jenkins now getting equal pay to her male counterparts also make blockbuster movies now you look at the star of wonder womanand she is to be calling the shots particular case like bread rather think I don’t want them involved that it is raises a lot of questions about who really has the most leverage when you consider wonder woman I would argue to gather the might not have had as much of the success of the first one woman Jenkins however she is the most vital part the only had one person you needed to return for wonder woman to I would say would be the star over the director we got paid Jenkins locked in nowand now in order to make this movie it appears from this rumor that we need to ditch Brett Ratner’s production company is acting to be the right move that has to be the only move I haven’t seen Justice league all I can really say is one woman is one of the stars outside the flash that will steal the movie doubted out has has proven herself as an incredible actress Natalieand one woman is a standout she’s got this the shining spot of BBSand she just took it with one woman I mean literally anybody you had issues about her acting you know just watch one roomand then you know eat your own foot you know that’s one of those situations where yet as I Celia Brett Ratner enough to get enough money make but make our heist for whatever while you a lot of movies coming up soonand it doesn’t like the way to that whole situation came out Christian it’s that Warner Bro pretty quickly severed ties with Brett Ratner know that he write his statement to get out these to take the timeand work on it for what what whatever crap they usually sexand Warner Bro very quickly like no we don’t want any time you have a parking space on the lot anymore so are they going to be able to cut ties with his production company because they they may have multiple contracts in place this is necessarily Brett Ratner being on separate as his company so can you legally maneuver your way around him producing future movies is a very tricky situation because it is not as easy as just saying you’re out here because what they did is a payment settlement that were doing that first but then got a note saying you know what I know he still involved because production companies still involved is still getting used to profiting for work that I’m doing is the profiting for word rat pack that Patty Jenkins doing so as long as he’s profiting I do not want to help him profit that’s the message so as far as like stars getting the power know that that that was happening it is the particular one time certain of one time at a particular circumstance with everything is happening today climate lies that this is a move that is a strong move that is the right move to do however what is now called into the spotlightand Warner Bro now has has to say well we thought we got out of this thing because we set our leaders can like to check on the side will get you Patty you don’t you’re no longer part of the same orbit the star the moviesand I’m not gonna do it still involves a what they can have to do is to be expensive than the got Pam off the have to come to you have to come to an agreement to say here’s what we’re going to pay you to get you if they walk out the door to stayand they should because echo you said if you notice just in that the market when he switched the first trail you saw Justice league was not gathered of having the movie comes outand the whole thing is got to have everyone here at the movies pretty got it out so it would make senseand find a way to know’s cutsand how to deal with I set a world where the there so much confusion as to what movies are on the DC or the DCU slate will note that athletic very heavy badand wondering about all the future battle movies you would think doubted I would be the primary person you need to lock down yet especially with flashpoint already hearing she’s gonna be in that if they do do a second Jesse obviously the doing a second one woman so mean the community make it toa no brainer I mean what Warner Bro just has to pay for the entire film that’s what rat pack is like a cofinancing deals in a paper some of it so it might be easier than what we are talking about Christian where it said they just like that you can produce these other movies that have nothing to do with gatherget outand will print will finance those ourselves it could be that simple orchid being friendly complex yellow will have a contracted rack has one brother us even if we do drum is a just released JFK document before I get to that is from a thick stack of paper I don’t know if they have a morals clause with somebody that if you sign this you have to be a somewhat of a good citizen news reporters anchors I learned when I went to cows is that they all signed contracts with whatever network they broadcast the news onand it says certain things in their morals clause if you can’t be out getting hammered at 3 AMand yells out at the because you are representative of the community to a certain extent I don’t know they have that with a production company or the head of a production company because it’s not as simple as Warner Bro thinks they don’t worry will foot the bill for this movie that’s Warner Bros telling rat back to that you’re not gonna be making anything off this movie because we do not want you involved so I could agree with Christian Ashley I think that there is can have to be some sort of ownership by out here but when you looking doubted out staying upand saying I don’t want that she was the sheet she had some sort of mysterious illness a couple weeks ago right the bread around his head because she was supposed to be an awards gala with Brett Ratnerand for whatever reason she wasn’t able to show outside think this is are taking another step in what I can take this anymore there are consequences to actions the point of even the news coming out the perfect movie perfect person to be making ultimately one woman a shining bacon for us all adjustably coming out this weekend by the way so get excited everybodyand now we move on to another storeand unfortunately does not quite get us out of this moral dilemma acquainted report from the director released in

Source: Today's Hair Is Called I Drive A Defender T Shirt From AllezyGo

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[jennycalendar]

TARA IS SO FUNNY FKOFKFJG because she thinks that this is a job and hasn’t yet figured out that nate and sophie are legally married, that this is really a thinly veiled crime family, & that everyone in the crime family is mad at her for being Not The Team Mom. so we get interactions like

tara: hey so sophie said you and her meet the clients together, does that mean that i need to do that too?

nate: you’re not my wife.

tara:

tara: wh

#celia watches leverage #im so sorry queen no one wants to deal with their ex girlfriend’s new husband crying about the trial separation

[toomanyfeelings5]

the rotten job, part 1

get pumped for a gay shakespeare leverage au from someone who’s never seen leverage. how niche is this? impossible to tell.

all the titles for these little bits are from the mountain goats’ album beat the champ. 

major shout-out to @ophelia-thinks for coming up with this wacky au idea.

here it is, below the cut: 

1. “foreign object”

“shit--fuck--”

kate breaks his nose.

guard #10--tall, lithe, baggy uniform, the shade of blond that calls to mind hospital lights--manages, “go to hell.”  

she smiles, blood in her mouth. spits it onto the cold concrete floor. the iron taste lingers. “you gonna tell me where mrs. regina goldfeather iii is being held?” 

more muffled cursing. jesus, this guy’s a real mumbler. she reaches up to squeeze his neck, just a little. leans in real close. her noise wrinkles at the axe body spray. “did you hear me? or am i going to have to repeat myself?”

finally, after he flinches, adam’s apple bobbing under her palm, voice thick: “down the hall, make a left. last door on the right.”

“there.” kate knocks him out--easy, really, when they’re this close. “was that so hard?”

“minola,” her earpiece crackles, nasally voice low and grating in the static. “get a move on. we don’t have time for this--”

“h,” kate huffs as she jogs down the hallway, ankle throbbing, right eye swelling shut. “c’mon. i’m a professional.”

“you keep saying that, and yet--”

“and yet you need to shut the hell up. i need to find the holding cell.”

there’s breathing of some sort cutting into her ear--horatio is an expert in long-suffering sighs--and after a few minutes of breathing hard, of sweat dripping down her back, of coughing up god knows what, kate gets to the door. 

“fuck you,” she tells the door, and kicks it wide open. 

the room is tiny and dirty, with one cracked lamp flickering from the ceiling, dust floating in the air, rusted file cabinets lining the walls. there are three men and two women unconscious on the ground.

none of that matters. 

kate grins wide, front tooth chipped, voice hoarse. “i win.”

portia rolls her eyes as she finishes untying herself. “bless your heart. this was all me.” 

“how d’you think we’re getting out, hm? the guards didn’t neutralize themselves, sweetheart.”

“we’re not undercover anymore.” portia fixes her wig, fake red ringlets spilling behind her in graceful arcs. “you don’t have to call me that.”

kate shrugs, ignoring the protest of her bruised shoulder. “regardless, darling, you have to admit that i saved your sorry ass. that’s....what, twenty to nineteen?”

“no, you--” portia’s round face changes, frowns slightly. she’s such a sore fucking loser. “next time, you’re the one who’s going to need saving--”

“ladies,” horatio snaps into their earpieces. “we are on a schedule here. i can’t break into their databases if i don’t know what i’m looking for. you have the intel, you get out and get to the safe-house. now.” 

“of course,” portia says, slipping into her real voice, new yorker drawl back in place. “we’ll be perfectly punctual. won’t we, mrs. pauline goldfeather?” 

kate raises an eyebrow. “yes,” she says, and refuses to break eye contact. it’s been a long two weeks of pretending to sip wine, of getting government gossip out of marcellus’s cousin, of showing off her stolen diamond ring, of holding hands and linking arms and selling every last piece of it. stuff like that was portia’s thing, usually. kate’s never been any good at it. she had really tried, once, to be what her father wanted her to be, to be what her husband wanted her to be. still. she had smiled when their bodies were lowered into the ground. car accident on the way to a men’s rights protest. in the end, she’d had the last fucking laugh.  

it’s been good to finally break some knee caps.  

kate glances at portia’s lipstick, bright red, designed to attract attention, to distract form the cold and merciless glint in her eyes. 

every last piece. kate shakes her head. it’s strange to know what your co-worker tastes like. “let’s go.”

2. “animal mask”

it’s 11:30am in the 24-hour diner on a friday. traffic had been shit, as usual. the service is slow, as usual. the music is too loud, as usual. nerissa is late, as usual.

“sorry,” she says, not sounding very sorry at all. as usual. “work ran later than i thought.”

“it always does.”

“yeah, yeah. you order for me?”

portia raises an eyebrow. “turkey BLT on rye, no mayo, extra bacon.”

nerissa nearly cackles. “i’ve got you trained.”

“you wish.”

they get their coffees. there’s a couple of families seated near them--a baby’s giggles pierce through the top 40, an old woman chides a kid who must be her grandson about the way he holds his fork. there’s a lot of chatter about work, the kids, the new apartment, the news. 

portia stirs in cream. “can you help us?” 

nerissa grabs another sugar packet. “with what? espionage? smuggling drugs? identity theft? murder? world domination?”

“world domination, definitely,” portia says, smiling despite herself. 

“excellent. you’ll pay me my fee, right?”

“of course.”

“good.” nerissa sips her coffee, sweetened to her liking. “but seriously, what do you need?”

“i need you to look into cases involving nathaniel fortinbras and claudius hansen.”

“those guys? aren’t they the ones who--?”

the waiter brings them their food, uncommonly on time. nerissa immediately starts eating the fries that come with her sandwich, and portia’s glad that her eggs benedict has enough sauce. 

after a while-- “yeah, but i gotta watch the game tonight,” a woman tells her husband, jabbing a finger at her yankees hat-- portia asks, “you know who they are, right? there was that big scandal and everything?”

“yeah,” nerissa says with her mouth full. “yeah, i remember our office had bets going on whether or not they could all get away with it. huge legal fallout. i got fifty bucks out of it though.”

“mhm.” portia wipes her mouth with the cheap napkin. “look into him, bother your lawyer coworkers about it, dig up whatever you can. i’ll let you know specifics over email.”

“right, yeah. the super secret one.”

“yes, that.”

“god, you were always a bit shady--don’t give me that look, you know it’s true--but this is next-level.” nerissa laughs incredulously. “portia the vigilante. never thought i’d see the day.”

portia sighs. she can’t believe it either, on most days. every morning, she looks at herself in the mirror, and every morning she can never quite recognize the face that stares back at her. she picks at her eggs. “i can’t--after what happened...you know i had to start over.”

nerissa nods. she stops bouncing her leg. “yeah,” she says, brown eyes softening. “yeah, i get it. well, i don’t get it, i have no idea what you’re up to half the time, but. you know what i mean.”

portia smiles. “i know.”

after a moment, nerissa takes a bite out of her BLT and smirks in that terribly smug, familiar way of hers. portia braces herself as she asks, “so what’s up with you and minola?”

portia chews on her ham before saying flatly, “haven’t been in touch with her recently. last i knew she was visiting her sister. so i suppose...nothing much. it’s the same as it’s been.”

nerissa laughs hard enough that lettuce flies out of her mouth. portia tries very hard not to notice. her father had always demanded perfect manners. 

“bullshit,” nerissa all but commands. “you guys have hooked up at least, right? like, i’m not crazy about this, am i?”

portia carefully swallows her piece of egg. “...there was this one job last month--infiltration at a number of high-profile galas and fundraisers, we needed some intel--and we....minola and i were undercover as an influential married couple, and--”

“you’re shitting me.”

“no, i’m not joking. we needed to do that in order to get closer to fortinbras’s people. he’s looking to widen his donor base for corporate funds, wants to pretend to be more inclusive--”

“yeah, but you’ve been friends with benefits before that. why haven’t you just asked her out already?”

portia gives her a look, and barely stops a smile from creeping across her mouth. it’s a relief, in the end, to shed masks, to talk as herself. or, at least, it’s nice to pretend to be normal. she’s been doing that her whole life. “minola’s my coworker, rissa. and she’s a disaster. she is! she gets into cage fights for fun!” 

“sounds pretty hot to me--”

“oh my god. we are not talking about this anymore. it’s completely casual, not like...never mind. what about you, hm? what about you and celia? don’t think i haven’t seen those instagram photos--”

her phone buzzes.

portia holds up a finger to nerissa’s spluttering and reads: she wants you at the office in 20.

“what?” nerissa asks, eager to change subjects. “what is it?”

“i have to leave.”

“seriously?”

“yes. i’m...i’m sorry.”

portia doesn’t apologize often. 

nerissa nods, because she knows this. “it’s ok, i have to get back to work soon anyway. i’ll look into the stuff you want me to.”

“thank you.”

nerissa shrugs. “what are friends for?”

“yeah, yeah.”

portia promises to pay her back later, slides out of the booth, and glances at the text again: she wants you at the office in 20. 

horatio didn’t need to clarify who she was talking about. with her, everything is always about one person and one person only. 

portia floors the gas in her mercedes. the traffic had better not be shit. “duty calls,” she mutters to herself, and she hopes the boss won’t be too pissed if she’s late. 

#shakespeare #leverage #fic #idk about this but shrugs #it's been fun to write

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