#even respect them. he’s too paranoid now. too drunk on the power he has from his failure to break the cycle (which he. again. resents tav

[avallachs]

i’m aware i’m 100% alone in this, but i genuinely adore ascended astarion (especially when romanced) because of how—frankly—horrific it is. it’s simultaneously so cathartic in its brutality but so unsatisfying personally while managing to be narratively satisfying (just as his other outcome is, of course).

#ophelia.txt #bg3 spoilers #the way he still has the shell of his old feelings for tav mirrored in his possessiveness of them. that alone does suggest that he’d #probably not subject them to the same overt cruelty that he suffered which makes it all far more dangerous and insidious. because what #humanity—in as much as it can be called thus—remained to him is gone. what made him HIM is gone and all that remains is an incredibly #powerful being who (if you got his scene after moonrise) hates them for letting him go through with it. he has no love left in him now. #only want and resentment and possessiveness. if he loves tav it’s the possessive and selfish love a child has for a toy. but he doesn’t #even respect them. he’s too paranoid now. too drunk on the power he has from his failure to break the cycle (which he. again. resents tav #for allowing). he said right out the gates that true vampires are never created. there’s only ever a sire and a spawn. and he views tav #letting him bite them as them degrading themselves. placing themselves as lesser than him and it’s the new baseline for how he’s going to #treat them because the man they loved is effectively gone. it makes me feel so unwell. i love ascended astarion like okay king of not #breaking the cycle 🙌🙌🙌

[lykegenia]

Trust, But Verify

Convinced that Unit Bravo isn't everything they seem to be, Detective Leah Kingston decides to return to the warehouse that she knows plays some part in the mystery of Wayhaven's first murder in years, this time with Tina as backup. But sometimes, what is said on patrol doesn't stay on patrol, which isn't great when the subject of conversation is a certain new arrival with a dazzling smile and warm brown eyes.

Read on AO3

--

The air in the office holds a studied silence, from the members of Unit Bravo who have arranged themselves around the room like they’re on a photoshoot, and from me ignoring them so I can finish updating the board with information about the case. There’s precious little to go on so far. Adam called it a waste of time, but working as a teammeans everybody needs to be on the same page, and now I can feel a certain amount of spite creeping into the thoroughness of my notes.

I can’t afford to let it. Getting bull-headed means things get missed.

“What information can you give me about the other victims?” I ask.

“Nothing that will help us here.”

Nate passes a guilty glance between me and his glowering leader, but all it does is get me even angrier. Folding my arms, I turn to Adam, temper finally frayed enough to let my professional veneer slip.

“Did my mother send you to sabotage my case?” I demand. I shouldn’t, but today has not been a good day.

Adam glares. Somehow, the silence in the room deepens.

“I’m only asking because so far you seem to be trying your hardest to seem incompetent and uncaring about the fact that a woman has been murdered. If you can’t show even basic respect for that then you can get the hell out of my office and not come back.”

“Detective…”

“Are you here to help or not?” I’ve dealt with Saturday night drunks and middle managers angry at getting parking tickets – hell, I’ve had to face the mayor’s bluster more than once – and though Adam looks like he knows more ways to break someone’s bones than any of those guys, I’m willing to bet he’s on a much shorter leash.

Finally, the muscles working in that square jaw unclench just enough for him to loose a strained breath through his teeth. “We’re at your disposal.”

“Glad to hear it.” My shoulders relax a little. “The better we work together, the faster we’ll solve this, and unfortunately all the legwork has to come first.”

Nate steps forward, visibly relieved that we haven’t come to blows. “What do you want us to do?”

“We need to trace the victim’s last steps,” I say. Coming up with a plan gives me something to focus on. “Bank records, phone records, CCTV. If we can find out where and when she met the killer, hopefully we can follow the thread back to them. Someone should ask Verda if there’s any way to track down the equipment the killer needed for the transfusion, too,” I add.

“Anything else?” Mason drawls from his corner. He’s started on another cigarette.

“Nate very kindly said you’d all go and check out the Farris warehouse later. We think it might be the murder site.” I don’t miss the look Adam shoots across the room, but it’s not important. “Be careful when you do, when I was there yesterday I ran into some unsavoury characters.”

“Really?” Felix asks, grinning. “If we see them I’m sure we could take them.”

Nate rolls his eyes and Adam grinds his teeth again, and neither of them are doing anything to soothe the off vibes I’ve been getting all morning.

“Glad to hear it,” I reply, turning to grab my coat off the peg. “While you’re on that, there’s something else I want to chase up.”

“What something else?” Adam asks, his eyes narrowing as if he can hear the uneasy tick of my pulse.

I shrug, already half out the door. “I’ll let you know if it pans out.”

“One of us should go with you.”

“Thanks for the offer, but Tina and I will be fine – Tina! Fieldtrip!”

She looks up from the papers on her desk and gestures to the steaming mug in her hand. “But I just –”

“Now. We can stop off at Haley’s later.”

There’s a pause as she glances behind me, assessing, no doubt lining up a bunch of questions to ask me as soon as we’re out of earshot. “Sure thing, Detective.” She pulls on coat and scarf and sidles closer. “Day one and the power’s already gone to your head, I see.”

I stifle a smile and turn back to Unit Bravo, who are all leaning around the door of my office in various attitudes of surprise. “I almost forgot, while I’m out I’d be grateful if you could add the information on the other victims to the board. It should help.”

“We’ll see to it,” Nate promises when his colleague only flexes his biceps in response.

“I appreciate it.”

I’m almost to the door when I catch Felix sigh and mutter I don’t think she likes us very much, but I straighten my shoulders and step into the already darkening winter day, not allowing the prickle of guilt to take hold. They’re not here for me to like them, they’re here for a job – and I need to figure out what that job really is.

--

Tina shoots me a dubious look as I pull up outside the Farris warehouse and cut the engine. There’s still some light left, though the thick growth of trees crowds most of it out, and aside from a few harsh alarm calls from birds flitting between the trunks, the place is lifeless. Silent. The moon watches us from just above the top branches, hanging in the sky like a spider in the corner of its web.

“You changed your mind about letting Unit Boyband have this one?” she asks.

I reach behind me for my flashlight and check the safety on my gun is locked before kicking open the door. “There’s something not adding up about them, and I want to know what it is. Nate practically contorted himself trying to think of reasons for me to stay away.”

“And so here we are.” She sighs and follows. “Just like the good old days. As your friend, I think you’re being a bit paranoid.”

“Shady government agencies bring that out in me.”

“Just as long as you’re not expecting to split up in there.”

I toss her a grin. “Not even for a Scooby Snack?” I chuckle at her flat look. “Don’t worry, after those guys put that dent in Nessie last night, I’m not taking chances.”

With a wary look around, she unholsters her own gun and takes position on my left. “That dent looks like it was made with a sledgehammer.”

“Yup.”

We fall silent as we cross the threshold, crumbs of rubble cracking under our boots. The wind blows in from behind us, rustling the ivy reclaiming the walls, distorting sound, but unless someone is keeping very still, there’s nobody else here.

“Sooooo… it’s ‘Nate’ is it?” Tina ventures as we climb the stairs to the first floor. The artistic endeavours of Wayhaven’s teenagers scroll the walls, the empty cans and bottles from last summer’s illicit parties still scattered in the far corners.

“That’s what he asked me to call him,” I reply carefully. “It’s what the rest of them call him too.”

“Uh-huh.” She peers down at something. “Cigarette butt.”

“Recent?” I catch a shadow to my left, but when I chase it with my flashlight, it turns out just to be pigeons again, scattering for some reason of their own.

“There’s still ash on it, so I’d say so.”

“Bag it.”

While she kneels and starts the usual procedure for getting evidence into one of the bags we both carry with us, I pace the rest of the floor, peering around rusted heavy machinery and into the dustier corners in case of footprints. With so many people passing through, though, it’s unlikely we’ll find enough to connect anything to the murder – at least not anything that would stick in court.

“You have seen him eyeing you up though, right?”

“What?” I glance over, startled by the suddenness of Tina’s voice. “Who?”

Her tut would have made any disapproving grandma proud. “Nate.”

“Tina, I met him this morning.” One last glance around. “This floor’s clear.”

“So?”

“So when has he even had an opportunity to ‘eye me up’?”

“Oh, that’s right,” she sing-songs, “you were too busy doing your best to make the grumpy one quake in his combat boots, but I see everything. His mouth was hanging open and everything. And that was after your cosy little trip down to the morgue. I’m telling you, babe, you have a shot.”

We go one at a time down the stairs, which means she can’t see me roll my eyes, but as we turn to take our first proper look at the ground floor, the idea wiggles in to distract my better judgement. Nate has certainly made a better first impression than most of his team, but that’s not exactly hard, and his face looks like one that’s used to smiling, to smoothing ruffled feathers. If I maybe noticed the warmth of his hand when I shook it earlier, or caught the faint scent of whatever aftershave he uses when we were walking down to see Verda, then it’s still not something to lose my head over. It’s not something that matters.

“As your friend, I’m duty-bound to say that I think you’re delusional,” I say, deliberately light.

“Over here.”

Tina’s flashlight rounds on the transient’s camp I found yesterday, a loose pile of tattered blankets and a few rusted oil drums converted into fire barrels, only now with more light, there seems to be little evidence of recent occupation. No trash, no scuff marks beyond what could be explained by the passage of my own feet and the strangers who ran into me, and no odour of an unwashed body.

And yet…

Still crouched, I glance at the walls, try to imagine them blurred as I hold up my phone screen with the photos copied from Janet Greenland’s. She had known she was going to die, with enough advance warning to try and leave some kind of message, and then hidden them where her killer would be unlikely to look.

Tina breaks the concentrated silence. “What’s so delusional about someone finding you attractive?” It helps, the distraction from the grisly reason we’re here.

“Nothing in particular,” I reply. “People have wanted to sleep with me before. It’s just not something that would work.”

“Why not?”

I stand and walk slowly, still with my phone up in front of me. “One, this is a temporary assignment. Once we catch the killer, Unit Bravo will be whisked away to somewhere far more exotic than Wayhaven with far more interesting people.” I stop. “Two, he’s technically a colleague, which is never something that ends well. And three…”

The last of Janet Greenland’s photos line up with the view ahead of me, minus the difference in our height.

“Three?” Tina presses.

“I’m not interested.” It’s a ready answer, but she scoffs all the same.

“Oh come on, you mean you don’t think he’s sexy as hell?”

From somewhere behind us, there’s a loud crash as a piece of masonry collapses. We wheel, ready for something to come at us, but after a long moment, nothing else moves. Probably a rat, or a piece of the ceiling that was ready to go anyway. Even so, Tina keeps her back to mine as I return to my snooping.

“That’s not a no,” she wheedles after a few more minutes of silence.

“He’s –” The right description eludes me for a moment. “He’s good-looking. He seems nice, for what it’s worth. But that doesn’t mean he’d stay, and it doesn’t mean he’d be interested in anything… beyond casual. I have more worthwhile uses for my time than trying to guess a stranger’s motives for noticing me.” The bitterness isn’t something I meant to slip out, but thankfully there’s no comment on it. Tina knows enough about the fiasco with Bobby to leave that particular sleeping Rottweiler lie.

Besides, I’ve found where Janet stumbled into the warehouse – or tried to get out. By one of the broken windows some of the stones have tumbled and turned the mossy sides underneath, and a few threads of material are snagged on the jagged edge of the glass that are the same colour as the jacket she was wearing. There’s just enough light left to photograph it, but without any evidence of the killer or any kind of struggle, there isn’t much else to be done. Wayhaven doesn’t have the resources to dust an entire warehouse for prints.

“I remember being told at the academy that we should try to collect all the evidence we can,” Tina says, when I make no move to reach for a bag.

“That’s what I’m doing,” I reply. “Sometimes it doesn’t all look the same, that’s all.”

She eyes me with a frown, though the corner of her mouth is fighting a smile. “What did I tell you? Paranoid.”

--

Sitting in the Facility cafeteria barely a week later, a plate of unappetising mince and mashed potato in front of me, it’s hard to believe how much a life can change. Hunting for petty clues, looking through bank records and phone calls as if any of it would have turned up anything useful – not even the vindication of knowing I was right about my mother’s team does much to lessen the lurch the world has taken since learning that the man I was hunting is not only a vampire, but that he’s hunting me, too. The thought puts me off eating. Or maybe it’s the tests, or just that the food itself isn’t very good.

I’m in the middle of drawing a passable mixed media landscape with my fork when a shadow falls across my plate. Nate smiles at me, genuine if somewhat nervous, one hand holding a mug of tea and the other on the back of the chair opposite mine.

“May I sit?” he asks.

I’ve barely seen him since the first night I was here, between all the debriefings and the sessions with the scientists, and even those brief glimpses have been accidental, moments of stumbling into each other in the corridors of Unit Bravo’s section of the Facility. To have him seek me out, in a place that reeks of leftovers, stirs an unfamiliar flutter behind my ribs that turns into a smile to answer his.

“Please do.” I gesture, and his smile grows wider, and I cast about for something that will avoid me floundering in awkward silence. “I didn’t think I’d see you here – not because you don’t need to eat!” I add hastily. “The smell of stale coffee is almost too much for me with just human senses.”

He doesn’t seem too offended, and just shrugs. “I like the ambience. People here are just being people, no matter what species.” As he speaks his eyes cast over the nearly empty room, and the pockets of agents and supernaturals at other tables buried in conversation. A person could visit a thousand parallel universes and a cafeteria would look the same in every one.

“The more things change…” I mutter, following the line of his gaze.

A smile touches his lips. “You have no idea.”

I really don’t. Not compared with someone who’s lived so long and seen so much. In the pause that follows, I turn my attention back to my plate, and the interrupted tree I was trying to capture in the foreground with an overcooked slice of carrot.

“You’re quite the artist – I mean it!” he adds, holding up his hands at the sharp glance I throw his way.

“This is the part where you say you met some famous painter or other, isn’t it?” I grumble, quirking an eyebrow at him.

“Van Gogh did sell me a painting once – not one of his own, I’m afraid.”

If I didn’t know better, I’d say the statement was meant to impress me, and that the sip he takes of his tea is more to hide a smirk than because he’s thirsty. Still, his eyes grow serious as he taps the mug back on the table, and the measured way he looks me over makes me want to twist my fingers in my lap.

“What?”

“You seem to be handling the revelation of all this rather well,” he replies, muted, with a flicker of a softer smile. “We should have trusted you with it sooner.”

For a moment I don’t answer, both startled by the admission and caught up in an echo of the resentment that’s characterised so much of my time with Unit Bravo so far. It’s not a comfortable feeling, not now I know the reason behind the secrecy, but the morning after my second visit to the warehouse is still fresh in my mind, Adam’s flat ‘no’ when I asked if they’d found anything, and the way Nate glared at the floor, arms folded and shaking his head in tacit disagreement as the others waited for my reaction, as if they knew I wouldn’t believe them.

“I’ll admit, ‘new co-workers are secretly vampires hunting down a vampire serial killer who’s picked me as his next target’ wouldn’t have been my first guess for what was going on,” I try with a shrug. “I assume it’s not something everyone responds well to.”

“Most people who find out don’t have to deal with the serial killer part.”

Sometimes, in the face of such absurdity, you just have to laugh. Nate seems pleased that I haven’t run screaming, amusement warming the sympathetic way his gaze lingers.

“Actually, I wanted to thank you,” I say, after another moment of silence.

“For what?”

I shrug. “For wanting to tell me – trying to tell me, even though you had orders. Not everyone would do that.” My mother springs to mind as a prime example.

“It was clear you were going to find out anyway. You’re pretty incredible that way.” His gaze on mine is heavy, soft and intense but tinged with regret as well, and he looks away. “But after you went to the warehouse, it was also clear you didn’t trust us. It’s not a great combination for trying to keep someone safe.”

“How did you know I was at the warehouse?”

“I, uh…” He clears his throat, not meeting my eye. “I followed you. One of us had to, just in case Murphy came back.”

He seems… embarrassed more than anything, as if following me was somehow something more shameful than lying to my face, and it’s not what I expect. And then I remember my conversation with Tina while we hunted through the ruined building. Damn. My fork sets against the edge of my plate with a faint clink.

“You were in the warehouse – when I was in the warehouse,” I check, just in case there’s no real reason for the sudden flood of heat into my face.

“I was.”

“And you heard everything me and Tina were saying with your hypersenses, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t exactly need –” He stops, smiles an apology. “Yes, I heard everything.”

I roll my lips together, chasing something to say. My fingertips drum on the table. “There’s no chance you could just… forget all of that, is there?”

And now the smile curls into something smoother, sleek like a cat. And guess who’s the canary.

“I would rather not.” He purrs it, and my insides squirm. “But since we’re on the subject of… things you said, I feel the same way. About matters of the heart. They’re too precious to be treated casually.”

I stare. There’s more in the words than I really want to acknowledge, certainly more than I can respond to in the middle of a public place full of creatures I thought were myths for most of my life. His brown eyes search my face, patient, until I can’t stand it anymore and drop my gaze to the table, and he covers by taking another sip of his tea.

“That’s an elegant way to put it,” I manage, after what feels like an eternity. He’ll still be leaving once we’ve caught Murphy, and now that we’ve got a solid set of leads on him, that won’t be long at all.

“I hoped you would think so.”

“It must be hard to have any kind of relationship with… all of this.” I wave my hand around the room. “The secrecy and the travelling, I mean.”

His head tilts, the smile returns. “You don’t think it’s the vampire thing that would put people off?”

“No.” I don’t miss the way his mouth twitches upwards at that. “Vampires have become fashionable in the last few years, so I hear. Even if you don’t sparkle.”

“I’d hope my wit does, at least.”

I can’t help it, I break into a laugh at that. It’s so easy to feel comfortable around him, to want to be closer and spend hours just talking. When I knew he was lying, it was an easier feeling to ignore.

“You could always find another vampire,” I point out. “That would solve it if you thought it was a problem.”

It confuses him. His brows furrow as if it was something he hadn’t considered, as if the conversation has taken a turn he didn’t expect, and I use the distraction to look at the clock, high on the wall where clocks always are in cafeterias.

“I need to go. It’s stab-Leah-with-needles o’clock.”

“So soon?” he asks.

It’s not entirely untrue, but I’ll have to walk slowly not to be early, because god forbid they think I’m eager for more tests. My heart skips a little, and he can probably tell, but this whole conversation has veered far too close to gates I locked a long time ago, and do not want open again. I shrug.

“The sooner I get through everything they can think up, the sooner I can go back to catching Murphy.”

“The sooner this whole case is finished.” He watches me, the unspoken half of the sentence left hanging.

“The sooner Wayhaven is safe again.”

In the end, that’s what matters. I can’t lose sight of it.

#in this house we talk about our feelings #but only if we're not talking about *our* feelings #and only if our bff bullies us into it #twc #the wayhaven chronicles #n sewell #nate sewell #nate sewell x detective #leah kingston #tina poname

[xoxo-ren-xoxo]

Dream says c!Schlatt is an idiot

But... is he though?

In Dream’s eyes, sure, okay, Schlatt ends up doing some pretty ‘stupid’ things. I mean, what kind of idiot do you have to be to start heavily drinking in the middle of a war? No armour, no weapons, just... giving up everything for a drink? Becoming an alcoholic in the first place even when you were winning, for no real reason?

And Wilbur agrees. He chastises Dream for taking ‘so long’ to ‘figure it out’. But... he knows Schlatt isn’t stupid. Schlatt has always been cold and calculating and intelligent. His weapon is his words. Until, of course, he falls too low to use those words.

Maybe Wilbur has forgotten that the two of them are sides of the same coin. Fighting in wit rather than flame, deals rather than death. Wilbur is no better than Schlatt, his decline is just less noticable. He turns to destruction while Schlatt turns to the bottle. Their common denominator is paranoia.

When Schlatt gets drunk he gets destructive (see: The White House incident) and incoherent (see: literally any time he does that bit). When Wilbur gets paranoid or he starts to lose even a little bit, he goes to the button room- goes to destroy everything because he doesn’t know what else to do.

My theory is that Schlatt turns to alcohol because he knows no one trusts him, the paranoia and fear getting to his head. He knows he was too harsh, too power-hungry and too hell-bent on hurting Wilbur, and even though he was elected democratically, they (Manburg’s citizens) don’t see it like that. He continues to make poor, unpopular choices in an attempt to show his power and try to get people on his side, but it never works, culminating in the festival incident. No one likes him after that. Everyone leaves him. He deteriorates, physically and mentally.

On the outside, Schlatt goes from terrifying dictator to drunk old fool. He loses his power and his punch, no longer a threat to the people, actually easily overthrown in theory, but he doesn’t become an idiot. 

This was made obvious to me in the scene where Quackity tries to trick Schlatt into signing that contract. Schlatt knows he’s being played the whole time, but keeps everyone in suspense just to toy with Quackity and Wilbur (who he knows is watching). Despite being ‘out-of-it’ at the time, he still manages to be cruel, smart, and intimidating.

Wilbur’s struggle is less physical, less obvious, so no one sees him as some bumbling old man. They see him as a real threat. And yes, Schlatt falls further and further from power and becomes less of a problem, especially when Wilbur has the button and so much more power, but he still isn’t stupid.

Schlatt was never stupid. I think his arc, and his motivations are incredibly interesting, especially if we consider the one-day visit he made to the server so long ago. There are people who have made better comments on that, though.

Schlatt and Wilbur have always been evenly matched, that’s what makes them compelling. As heros or as villains, they can never truly beat each other. They can only co-exist. Death was really the only way for either of them to win. And they got it. They won.

With Wilbur, this is clear-cut. He completes his arc, destroys Manburg, finishes his symphony. Phil, his own father, kills him, and he’s happy. A final satisfaction washes over him and that’s the end of it. He does what he’s wanted to do ever since Schlatt stopped him from becoming president. Schlatt tipped the scales too far, disturbed their equilibrium, and something had to be done. A pay-off as dramatic as the setup.

With Schlatt, it seems like he’s lost. Dying a pitiful death surrounded by a gang of powerful enemies who don’t even need to touch him, just stare down at him like a final judgement. But as I said, Schlatt isn’t stupid, even when mindlessly drunk. Irrational, yes, but not stupid.

He was going to lose from the moment he became president. And he knew it. He let himself become hated. He let people betray him. His own actions fought against it, self-preservation causing him to act out in fits of rage and justice (eg The White House, Tubbo’s execution) but he always knew how it would end. Either they would kill him, take him as a prisoner, or destroy his power. He says himself that he doesn’t care about what happens to Manburg, and his power is barely even an illusion of what it was before, so that leaves two options.

Those two options didn’t suit him. He couldn’t let Wilbur and his friends kill him. He couldn’t become a prisoner. It would be pointless. If he were to die, it would be by his own means. His own story.

He had done what Schlatt, the real Schlatt, does best: constructed a story. A bit. Fundy writes in his journal that he’s physically deteriorating and that he’s a paranoid alcoholic, and it all fits together perfectly. His death seems almost tragic, even inevitable. People are left thinking about what they could have done to help him before he got to this point. Quackity, Fundy, Tubbo, they all left him at his weakest point and now he dies a pathetic death.

It’s the perfect sob-story. Wilbur looks like even more of a villain, and now the two of them can’t be distinguished. Two insane, power-hungry, stupid leaders who both die sad, lonely deaths. Schlatt curated it that way, Wilbur simply followed.

When Dream says “Schlatt is an idiot” and Wilbur agrees, he is proving that he is too far gone to notice that it has all been planned out for him. The old Wilbur would never underestimate Schlatt’s intelligence. He would challenge Dream, not just blindly agree. 

“Never underestimate your oponent, treat him with the same respect you treat yourself, because he is probably smarter.” Techno could have told him that, with his experience of outsmarting squidkid in the potato war, but he choses to keep quiet, letting Wilbur believe he is the smarter, stronger man. A follower of anarchy, if this was purposeful. A fool, if not.

Now Wilbur is just doing what Schlatt wants him to do, becoming the true villain, the traitor, and the insane man to counter Schlatt’s dictator, Schlatt’s alcoholic, Schlatt’s antagonist. He never realises that Schlatt has played him for a fool with his uneventful, self-inflicted demise. He never realises that he and Schlatt will always be equals, no matter what.

And that is what makes Wilbur the idiot.

#dreamsmp #tw alchoholism #tw drug use #character analysis #jschlatt #wilbur soot #dream

[imanonymousfanfic]

Kid's Lipstick (1/2)

This one shot was inspired by this artwork, don't forget to give the talented artist some love!

https://twitter.com/naru_KITA/status/1363171402254192640?s=20

Names for the unnamed crew members is credited to @ceejindeed or @ask-bolthead-crew !

It’s only Heat and I left in the game, again. Everyone else folded, giving up early in the game for a third time in a row, it’s suspicious at this rate. Haikei is leaning into his chair, head rolled back as he takes a long drawn out drag of his cigarette, blowing the smoke over our heads. Everyone else in the crew is singing, dancing, stumbling across the deck in a chaotic mess, making it hard to concentrate. Luckily the distractions make it easier to bluff my way to victory. Wire’s eyes gloss over Heat’s hand before leaning over to me, taking in my hand. He slinks back into his normal seated position,  remaining completely emotionless as he does. When he thought I couldn’t see, he nudges Heat with a nodding smirk. I can’t help but grit my teeth, the damn bastards are messing with me again.

“So if I win, you have to down another mug of beer.”

“And if I win you will down an entire bottle of moonshine.”

“Where is this fair?” Haikei chips in, showing off a shit-eating grin.

I look to him, ready to murder. “Probably because I’ve drank-” I throw my hand over my mouth and loudly burp. “Sorry-But he hasn’t drank! It’s not fair!” I yell, smacking my fist down on the table a little too hard, hitting my wrist on the table's edge. I rub at the bruising joint, whimpering to myself as I do. Haikei laughs out and shakes his head, before taking another drag of his cigarette.

Heat snorts, catching my attention again. “Not my fault that you suck at the game and you’re a lightweight.”

“Shut the fuck up,” I mutter back, I peak into the mug to see I have only drank half of the lager from my last loss. These men purposely take advantage of my small frame to be their laughing stock, mocking me because my tolerance is deplorable next to theirs. It sure has improved since I’ve joined them though.

“So this is what, the fourth game?” Heat questions me tauntingly. Oscar leans into the table, his eyes flicking between the blue haired pirate and I. He doesn’t often show interest in things, but this seemed to peak his.

“Fifth, actually.” He proceeds to correct, now smirking too. I lean back in my chair, staring him down. Any of my remaining amusement melts away. Now I know I’m not being paranoid, they are all in on this.

Heats lips tug into a soft smile. “So it’s a deal?”

“Just show your cards.”

Heat throws his cards down on the table with another winning hand, grinning devilishly as he does. Suddenly everyone around the table falls silent, turning their attention to me. Oscar and Wire exchange glances again. I roll my eyes and throw my defeated hand down, his straight flush beat my four of a kind.

I jump out of my seat, throwing my seat back as I do. “You’re a cheater!” I accuse him, growling louder than I planned.

“You’re accusing me of cheating?” Heat laughs out, rocking back on his chairs back legs. His sarcastic remark breaks me, turning my annoyance into uncontrollable rage. I climb onto the table and march my way across it, kicking all of their belongings out of my way. Heat lowers his chair and steadily stands tall, his gaze leveling perfectly with mine.

“Are you mocking me?”

He tilts his head at me, cocking an eyebrow as he does. He grins, amused by my question. “I would never mock you.”

“Oh, really? So then tell me why you cheated, because I know you did.”

Heat narrows his eyes at me. He lifts his hand up to my forehead, and flicks it hard. My temple thumps loudly, feeling the dull aching radiate through my skull. The others gasp silently amongst themselves, obviously not expecting him to respond the way he had. I freeze, my eyes deadpanned on him as the pain fades into the overboiling rage taking over my body.

“THAT’S IT!” I launch forward, tackling the blue haired pirate to the floor. I act quickly, throwing both of my legs around his neck as I try my best to pin his hands down. He quickly overpowers my hands, bending my wrists effortlessly at his will until I give out. He transfers both of my wrists into one hand, locking his long fingers tightly around them. With his now freed hand, he latches onto my ankle and pulls, trying to pry my limbs from his throat. Sucks for him, my legs are stronger than his arms.

The guys began to circle around us, chanting our names to encourage the fight. The audience for our struggle continues to grow larger the longer we go at it. Heat shoots up into a sitting position, almost throwing me off him, but my tight grip around his neck keeps me latched on. I swing forward, now coming face to face with him. I throw myself onto the floor again, bringing him with me. My angling on his neck gives me advantage and I squeeze harder on his throat. There’s no way I will lose this brawl. He wheezes, struggling against the pressure on his windpipe. He claws at my legs desperately, fingers digging deeply into my thighs, but he’s hopeless. His eyes are drooping and his tight clasp on my wrist is giving out.

“Enough of this!” Something tugs on my shirt, I peer over my shoulder to see an arm gripping tightly to the scruff of my shirt. I release my legs. Heat gasps for air, choking on it and rolls to his side, looking at me like I’m a maniac. I wave at him as I’m being dragged across the deck by Killer. The rest of the crew audibly express their disappointment.

“I ALMOST HAD HIM!” I yell at blond. He ignores me, continuing to the back of the deck and further out of sight.

“You’re exhausting, you pick a fight every time you drink.” We come to a stop, right outside the cargo room. He takes out the set of keys, unlocking it before kicking it open.

“It’s not my fault they pick on me,” I argue back. I tug on the fabric tight on my throat.  “You don’t care when the others do it, so why me?”

Killer doesn’t reply and lets go of me, letting me fall to the floor with a loud thud. I curse him angrily under my breath as I steadily get to my feet, readjusting my shirt, and dust myself off. His hand is pointing into the room, telling me to go first. I comply, sneering at him as I do.

There is no reason for him to bring me here to help him carry stuff. If he did, it’s not like I’d be much help anyway, I’m a doctor not a pirate heavily built with muscles. I pride myself on my speed and longevity, not my power. I scan over the bottles of liquor neatly organized on the racks in front of me. There’s hundreds. Most of these bottles are near undrinkable. Kid’s high alcohol tolerance certainly makes sure of this.

I look over my shoulder to see Killer leaning against the door, arms crossed and watching me silently. I can feel his eyes. Just as I anticipated, we’re here to talk.

“Kid has been acting off, so I asked him what happened.”

“Has he?” I rhetorically questioned, not bothering to pretend to be surprised.

“I’m here because he told me he told you.”

“Ah…fuck,” I mumble plopping my back against the wall. This is not the conversation I want to be having right now.

It’s true, he did. He told me a couple weeks ago that he was attracted to me. Whether it was emotionally or just physically is still unbeknownst to me. I never got the chance to ask, I was too busy helping Senior. I broke his foot after dropping a large box of medical supplies on him. I blame Kid for being impatient, insisting that I talk with him and not later in the evening as I asked. He stormed out seeing how much distress he put me in, not expecting me to react as badly as I did. Up till now I was hoping he had let it go after seeing how I reacted, but who am I kidding? It’s Kid, he doesn’t forget anything and he sure as hell won’t let anything go. When the man wants something, he will get it.

I was homeless when Kid and I met. He was across the street, watching a group of Marines harass me for hanging outside a bar suspiciously. I managed to uphold myself, messing with them in return claiming the Kids pirates just left town right under their noses. The idiots didn’t see the red haired captain behind them and took off in the direction I pointed them in. I was covering my own ass, but he was still equally amused enough to offer me a drink. The very same evening he invited me to become the ship's second doctor, insisting I would learn even after telling him I knew nothing about medicine. He never admits it, but it's obvious he’s had a soft spot for me since day one.

I have a crush on him, I can’t deny that fact, but I never thought about doing anything about it. My dedication is to the crew now. For the first time in years I’ve found stability in my life and I can’t lose that now. As much as I respect him, he’s not mature enough to take on the emotional responsibility of our emotions colliding. He didn’t even know how to respond when I broke down crying while drunk a few weeks back about my past. I stormed off, knowing it was no point opening up to him.

“You said you needed time, it’s been two weeks.”

I roll my eyes. “Why do you care so much?”

“For you? I don’t,” Killer retorts in a cold tone, my eyes narrow at the masked man. “Kid is my best-friend and captain, when I know something is bothering him, I’m going to deal with it.” I roll my eyes. “You have a bad habit of procrastinating, and with the upcoming events. I’d prefer Kid to have his head on right.”

He leans against the door, crossing his arms as he does. “So we won't leave until you agree to talk to him.”

I drop my mouth in awe, unable to believe that this man is entitled enough to parent me. “You’re treating me like a child!” Killer shrugs his shoulders carelessly. I scoff, throwing my hands in the air before crossing my arms over my chest. What an asshole.

“If you answered him sooner we wouldn’t be in this position.”

I grab one of the bottles of whiskey off the bottle rack and bite at the cork, ripping it out before spitting it onto the floor. I smack my back against the wall and slide down to the floor and take a large swig from the bottle, filling my mouth with the repugnant liquor. Being already partially intoxicated has made it easier, suppressing the need to gag. I can’t control the creasing of my face, smacking my lips in disgust, waiting for the flavour to fade.

I wipe my lips of the alcohol. “I… like Kid-” I tell the pirate. I hold the bottle out to him, inviting him to take a drink as well. He shifts slightly, hesitating to join me. He nods and walks over, pulling out a straw from a small packet in his jeans. I watch the bottle progressively empty a little more, taking his time. Oh god that’s disgusting, who drinks straight whiskey through a straw? I don’t look at him, the embarrassment of the situation alone is enough, having him stare me down makes this even harder. My head is on fire, I can feel the blood rushing to my face. Even in this dimly lit room he will notice the colour in my flushed cheeks. I’m not exactly in a sober state, maybe that can be my excuse.

“Yes?”

As I’m taking another swig, I nod, realizing I haven’t finished my point. I swallow the poison. “Kid is well… Kid.” I shrug my shoulders, now feeling my mood shift as the conversation continues. Is he capable of being the man I need or am I just filling my mind with fantasies? I’ve been homeless and alone for so long, I don’t want to lose this now.

“I just don’t believe he can take me seriously,” I roll my head back and look up to the masked man, awaiting for his response.

He shifts in his spot. “I guess you will have to find that out.

“You call yourself his best friend and you don’t know?”

Killer angrily hums at me. “The last time he liked a girl was when we were kids.”

The response irks me, making me think about the way he’s been acting, cold and definitely grumpier than usual. He’s been watching at me from across the deck during the day. I’ve been avoiding him knowing he has his patches, even pinning it to be his lack of sex. Now that Killer says this, it’s clear he’s been taking his dejected emotions out on me. I take a deep breath and grit my teeth, the building frustration is tensing all the muscles in my body. I ball my hand tightly into a closed fist, holding it to me, with my body continuously begging to punch something.

“Help me up... I’m… kinda drunk.”

He sticks his hands out with an open palm. I take it, grasping tightly to his coarse, callused skin, and begin to pull myself up. He yanks me from the floor effortlessly, letting me stumble to my feet, the alcohol makes it harder to catch myself.

“God,” I mumble standing myself up straight. “I keep forgetting how strong you are.” My head rushes for a second, feeling the room sway more than it should.

“I’m gonna tell him.” I declare on my way to the door. I throw it open, seeing all of the guys in front of me. They’ve been eavesdropping. I give them angry glares and stomp past them, taking another swig of the bottle as I do.

I approach the table, turning around to see the guys following me with hesitant looks on their faces. “Where’s my mug?”

“Why?” Heat questions.

“Because I lost the game, I need to finish what I owe.” I tell him. He nervously shakes his head at me, holding the mug to his chest.

“A-Are you sure? You seem drunk.” Heat hesitates, a worried smile cracks his lips.

“Give it.” I snap at him. He looks to me then the mug then to me again and hands it back. I down the remaining lager from my previous game. I look at my mug once empty and then put it on the table.

I can feel the whiskey hitting me now. The sudden shift of my intoxication hits me like a brick to the face. I catch myself, burping loudly once again, followed with another apology.

“Cheers.” I slur. Oscar was standing next to Heat, cocking an eyebrow at me. Someone rests their hand on my shoulder, I look up to see it’s Wire, silently asking me if I’m okay. I wave him off and shrug his hand away. I scan the deck, looking for the red haired man, he still hasn’t come out. Of course he hasn’t. I thought I was the one avoiding him, but it’s more obvious he’s been doing it to me. I make my way towards his bedroom door, with the guys quickly catching on. Haikei jumps in my path giving me a sweetened smile.

“Hey bud, where are you going?” He asks in an innocent tone. I may be intoxicated, but not enough to bear listening to that tone to help reason with the mindless drunk.

“You know exactly where, get the fuck out of my way,” I growl at him, “I’m not in the mood.”His sweetened smile diminishes and he obliges, stepping aside, looking perturbed.

I stand a few meters away from his door. I can feel the others behind me, many of them following behind me silently, watching for what I’m about to do. I stumble slightly, taking a small chug of the whiskey. I shift my grip on the bottle. I step back and swing forward, launching the bottle at his door. It smashes, the liquor exploding with it. I catch myself, almost stumbling to the floor again from launching the item.

“Are you crazy?” Haikei burst out to me.

“No, let her. She’s got her own behavior to deal with.” Killer interjects. Almost everyone is watching me now as I stand tall, waiting.

The door swings up, Kid’s angry expression emerges from the door, his large frame stepping onto the deck. His gaze quickly falls on me, knowing immediately it was me who had thrown the bottle at his door.

“You and I need to have a talk.” Part 2

#eustasscaptainkid #eustass kid #one piece #one shot #fanfiction #ao3 writer #heat #wire #haikei #Oscar #Noe #anime #killer #Massacre Soldier

[aphspain-pure]

Back to de past, right to the future [Chap. I]

Category: Fanfic. 

Pair: EngSpa, UkSpa. 

Words: 2.611.

Genre(s): drama, historical, yaoi. 

Abstract: England feels some magical disturbance in the air that morning. How could he have imagined that it was caused by his own self, but some centuries ago. 

Pirate England suddendly appears in the Modern Era. 

________________

When he opened his eyes, England could not focus well. 

It was dark and cold, but the tremendous and familiar humidity of his cabin or any of the parts of his ship was not noticeable. Nor could he feel the typical rocking of the waves of the high seas, so he deduced that, God knows why, he was not in his boat.

He scrambled to his feet and took a quick look around him in dismay. He was in complete darkness but, thanks to the patch over his left eye, he was quickly able to get used to the lack of light. Only then he did recognize the place.

This was his magic room, where since Viking occupation times he had conjured his spells and his miracles. It was cloudy, dark and penetrating as always. There was nothing out of place except for him, who couldn't bring himself to remember how in the hell he had gotten there. He did not remember even having arrived at port, even having approached Great Britain. The last thing he remembered was being on his ship, somewhere between the Caribbean and the West Indies, and he couldn't figure out how or when he ended up there.

Grunting in disagreement, with a hangover of a thousand horrors, he decided to leave the questions unanswered for later and get up, dusting himself off, ready to go out and yell at the first servant who crossed his path. He didn't know what was going on but he didn't care, at least he wouldn't think about it until he'd had his first shot of whiskey or rum and kicked a couple of arse.

Or so he thought, unhinged, until he opened his special room’s door and took a look outside.

- What the bloody hell?

 ____________________________

In another part of London, England watched the energy in the air with a puzzled countenance, noticing slight arrhythmic disturbances in the wind while enjoying his famous breakfast tea. He was in a cozy old café from his Victorian era that still stood to this day and which England cherished with pure English love and courtesy. He had decided to have breakfast there, early, to arrive with plenty of time for the world conference that day. That was why he had left the house exceptionally early, even if he usually preferred to get up at a moderate hour and take it easy on homely mornings.

He sighed. He had once been a man of action.

Maybe America was right when he accused him of being a boring old curmudgeon.

He calmly finished his cup of tea, retrieved his coat from the courteous waiter who had stripped him of it earlier –a practice which, now almost extinct in modern times, England greatly appreciated-, thanked him and left. The day was cloudy and threateningly rainy in London, as usual.

Thus, once outside, he felt again that feeling of unease that had been attacking him for some time. A spiritual unrest, as if something bad was about to happen. Deciding not to become paranoid, he called his chauffeur to take him to the boardroom right in the center of Westminster.

 __________________________

He arrived early, and the only other nations besides himself already there were Germany, Switzerland, Netherlands, and Japan. The rest would still be in their respective hotels or even, if they had decided to fly from their countries that morning, on the plane or the airport. As far as he knew, France used to prefer the latter option when meetings were held at his place, preferring to spend as little time as possible on British soil. And England could not say that it did not understand or disapprove of it; moreover, he would resort to the same when the situation was the opposite.

He walked over, respectfully greeted the three blonde nations, and calmly placed himself next to Japan. His transoceanic friend gave him a slight bow of the head. - Ohayo gosaimasu, Igirisu-san. How has the sun risen today? –he commented, in an appropriate and neutral tone.

England appreciated the chivalricism. – It isn’t being one of my best days, but I cannot complain. Anyway, good morning to you too, Japan. –And the Japanese gave him a small and short smile.

After that all went silent, and the only thing that was heard for a few minutes was the chalk of Germany hitting the blackboard as he wrote down the important points of the day. Everyone knew that the meeting would probably end as usual, with nothing clear, with the United States laughing and claiming to be a hero every few seconds, the odd country asleep, hysterical discussions between itself and France and Russia trying to make people become one with him, but Germany still insisted on trying to create a serious atmosphere. Internally, England admired and appreciated his dedication, even if it didn't get real results in the end.

Eventually the rest of the countries began to arrive one by one. The feeling of discomfort and that something was wrong did not leave the guts of the host country, anyway.

There was something strange, even dangerous, floating in the atmosphere. His sharp, mint green eyes scanned every corner trying to find the source of the discomfort, unable to find anything. He had a pleasant conversation with Luxembourg when he arrived and later he chatted with Portugal a bit, all automatically while he went over everything. Each time the air was tighter from a supernatural point of view, as if the Disaster itself was drawing closer and closer.

It wasn't until Norway appeared in his field of vision that England paid any real attention to something. 

Usually they would do nothing but greet each other from afar with a minimal movement of the head. But if Norway had stood there, in front of him, it definitely meant something.

Getting to the point, the Nordic inquired. - What the hell is happening here? –With his frankness and usual calm voice.

England, sighing, crossed his arms and furrowed his thick eyebrows.

- It's been bothering me since this morning. I don't know what the hell it can be, but it's downright disturbing. It is… like a powerful presence but at the same time cloudy. And the strangest thing of all is that it looks strangely familiar to me.

- Yeah… -the other man agreed-. It's ... certainly familiar in some way. –Then he looked around-. And every time it seems to increase that energy. You haven't used magic again while drunk, have you? –And for a moment, England looked offended. At least before recalling the hundreds of times it had actually happened, after which he quietly apologized.

Trying to hide that he was somewhat ashamed of himself, he cleared his throat and muttered that he didn't remember conjuring anything lately. That definitely upset the Norwegian's stern gesture a bit.

- So this doesn't make sense.

A moment later the Italian brothers entered and Germany called the session off. He and Norway were forced to separate, but not before sending each other glances of beware of anything and nodding in agreement.

But in these, just as Germany was about to start with the first point of the day, the main gate that led to the huge boardroom was thrown open. 

And the most incredible thing happened.

- What the hell is going on here by gad!? –The sordid growl of the new presence broke in. They all immediately turned to look there and, simply petrified, England stood up, shocked, knocking the chair over.

In front of them stood an astonishing 17th century pirate captain, dressed in his grandiose red coat, his worn flat boots, his jeweled saber, his open ruffled shirt, the typical gold ear rings, the eye patch in the eye and the so characteristic captain's hat. His voice had been sordid and commanding and his eyes exuded the amusement and danger of a true saltwater buccaneer. Someone who, at least the European countries and some former colonies, recognized immediately. He licked his lips leisurely as he began to draw his sword.

- You're already singing if you don't want to die, you louts! What does this all mean? –And pointed the sword towards the large table full of perplexed countries.

The attention fell entirely on him, in a frozen moment of time, until someone else claimed it.

- What the bloody hell are you doing here!?

Then the newcomer pirate's eyes lifted until, surprised and interested, they rested on the emitter. He looked directly at England, dressed and mature, with an uneasy and confused smile. - I should ask you the same. What is this all supposed to be? –taking great strides and dangerously dancing his saber with that deranged look of his-. You better start spitting it all out if you don't want to taste my steel, you fucking bastard.

And England, still not fully recovered from his shock, tried to articulate something to calm the hotheaded just as the door opened a second time. This time, timidly and slowly.

- Eh… Hello? I'm sorry I'm late again, I've fallen asleep again haha… -from a newcomer Spain who nervously rubbed the back of his neck with an embarrassed gesture.

This intrusion impressively attracted the pirate’s attention. 

- You... –he blurted out, lifting the eyepatch to see perfectly with both eyes, as a wolfish grin stretched the corners of his lips and he screamed in exaltation-. On guard, you bastard!

And before Spain could even react, the subject came forward like a veritable bloodthirsty beast towards him. The ancient empire, instinctively, placed his body on guard against the imminent attack, which he would have been about to receive if it had not been for the sudden cry that devastated the room:

- SLEEP!

And the body of the said pirate man fell inert to the ground. England had conjured something to make him abruptly fall asleep. The boardroom was suddenly silent.

England and Spain looked at each other in shock.

- ...What the hell?

_____________________

 When pirate England emerged from the dark abyss of unconsciousness again, it appeared to be back at its home outside London. He blinked a few times as he growled and groaned at the post-spell pain in his tormented mind. He cursed the other England, the one from the future who had had such a naughty face, and tried to regain control of his body.

It was then that he was known prisoned. His arms were tied with a thick, scratchy rope to the back of the chair he was sitting on. He raised an eyebrow for a moment, really not very impressed, and later turned his gaze straight ahead.

The familiar face of his presumed captor managed to get an idle, amused smile from his lips.

- Scared that I might bite you, darling?

Which was quickly answered by a. – Dare to even suggest such a thing and I will hang you before you can take a step. –Which brought an even bigger smile and a greater sparkle in the other's eye.

There, sitting on the sofa, Spain was holding a rare article of paper with many hyper-realistic letters and images that he seemed to be reading carefully. But England knew better. He knew as the best what face this handsome jerk made when he was really focused, and the one he made when he tried to fake it. Catching Spain in the middle of that picaresque action seemed as charming as it was amusing, and he could not but fall into the temptation to frustrate him in his attempt.

- I do not know anything about the future, but just by seeing those whore's clothes that you bring, I think I would not mind being in your humble care a little more.

A vein was marked in Spain’s forehead who, honestly, had been years, decades…! With no real dislike for England. An insincere and tight smile showed his vain attempt at impassiveness. –This I am wearing is a simple "shirt", the type of garment that is worn today for formal meetings.

- Well, what a scandal, how immoral! With that tight-fitting blouse, I could see your nipples from nautical miles away. –To which, with a new vein marked, Spain jumped just at the time that contemporary England entered the room.

He carried with him a small silver tray with two porcelain mugs of Earl Grey and a few small butter cakes. His entrance surprised the other two. Immediately, however, Spain pointed at the captive and yelled at the newcomer. – Tell this uneducated you that neither my shirt is obscene nor am I a whore, now!

That sudden demand caught England off guard, whose first thought was to look directly at the named shirt, seeing, therefore, how the white fabric hugged and made the tanned skin transparent. He swallowed hard for a moment, which his other self took advantage of to act funny.

- From the familiar treatment that you two maintain I deduce that, very and at the same time not so much to my regret, in the future the Spanish Empire and I have that kind of intimate relationship. –Whistling at the sudden sight of a red and indignant England and an angry Spain-. In the bull’s eye, isn't it?

Making that this time, yes, Spain was so frustrated that he ended up pouncing on him.

The action awakened the green in the captive's eyes, amused to the core that he had finally made the future version of his rival lose his temper. Spain fell on him, a pair of strong hands and –although not as calloused as he himself remembered- still rough from the work in the fields surrounding his neck with accumulated resentment. 

He held back a smile.

- Ahh... I see that you are both quite rusted …

And, shocking Spain (who had still been trying to hang him), he broke free from his moorings and abruptly swapped positions.

England, from outside, watched in shock and without being able to speak as, in front of his eyes, his former self turned the tables and placed himself with the force of a beast above his current EU partner. Spain had fallen backwards and his hands had been forcibly captured on his head; he writhed like a sardine as he looked badly and –almost- growled at the one who just two seconds ago had been tied to a chair. Immobilizing his body, the pirate had mounted on him, leaving him unable to actuate any movement.

Looking indiscreet and almost with little concealed grimace, England glanced in the direction of present-day Britain. - Even a bastard child who has not seen more boobs in his life than his mother's would have loosened a knot that simple. –He growled, nodding at the untied rope lying on the ground. Making disgust, this time he directed his words to Spain under his grip-. Are you grossly underestimating me or are you so old that you have forgotten what you were capable of in the past...?

The three pairs of green eyes maintained that tense look for a few long seconds in which, little by little, the pirate began to change that tension for a deeper emotion. 

Darker and more penetrating eyes as they went down through the other's tanned build.  – Although I have to admit that this body is not that of an old man, no sir ... –taking the liberty of passing a hand from Spain’s chin to his tanned chest-. It's been a while since I saw this sinful skin so closely, I presume since 1588 …

And Spain’s eyes expanded in shock, while modern England’s nearly shook in bewilderment.

The apparition of Pirate Era England had opened something that had been buried centuries ago.

#hetalia #hetalia fanfiction #engspa #ukspa #spuk #aph spain #aph england #aph norway #pirate england #sorry this was kinda better in my mother tongue

[orsuliya]

Can we talk about how these princes , with so much wealth & resources how could they basically have no martial art skill ?

Zitan , he can’t even do a basic fighting (running ard and hiding behind the tree) while assassins tried to kill him, not a good look for prince. Potato, a sitting duck with arrow in his chest 😹 and Zilu only able to swing sword around aimlessly

The problem is not that Zitan cannot fight off those assassins. There are four of them and he’s more than a little drunk, judging from his and Awu’s general behaviour at the festival. The problem is that he was not drunk when he decided to slip out of the palace and steal Awu away from the safety of her home. And yet this adult man takes absolutely no precautions. None. No secret bodyguards following them at a distance, not a one. Okay, this is somewhat understandable, although it further proves that Zitan is a bloody nobody, a prince with no faithful retainers of his own, whom he could trust not to blab to his father or mother. But seriously, he has NO WEAPON. Not even a measly dagger!

What. The. Hell. Was. He. Thinking. Anything can happen at night in a crowd. I am not even talking about possible assassination attempts, but about common cutpurses and, if one is particularly unlucky, common cutthroats. Or, if those are too hard to imagine, then about bog-standard drunkards, who might become somewhat too bold towards a lady of Awu’s beauty and sharp tongue. If Zitan was alone, then fine, I could excuse this criminal forgetfulness. He’s young, he may be feeling immortal or think that nobody will dare to attack one such as him (despite the incognito). But he’s not alone. He has Awu with him and as the instigator of this whole adventure should take responsibility shoud try to ensure her safety... even if she was not his beloved Princess and possible future wife. A hidden weapon would do the trick; or better yet, he should wear a sword in plain view, regardless of his actual skill. Probably won’t help against assassins, but you know who it might discourage rather effectively? Anybody who would gladly try to take advantage of a defenceless highborn youth and his beautiful companion, that’s who.

Training or no training - and Zitan obviously had some - nothing excuses this level of utter irresponsibility. Either Zitan is a total moron or he thinks that the capital is a land of love, peace and rainbows, which makes me wonder about his eyesight and hearing. As far as we know, Zitan has been raised in the very centre of the court and not pushed into some isolated corner, so what gives?

At least he tries to get Awu out of the way, even as becomes blatantly obvious that she’s not the main target. Bonus points for using his surroundings to hinder the attackers, I guess. But seriously, weapons are useful. And not so heavy that he could not hide one on his princely person.

Oh. We were to talk about the princes’ training or lack thereof, not about Zitan’s idiocy. Fine. It’s obvious they all got some form of training; Zitan can, ummm, shoot a bow without damaging himself, Potato is a surprisingly good archer as seen during the Hunt of Doom and Zilu can... handle a sword in a reasonable manner? Although I have no idea Zilu goes for a rapier-style thurst when Awu gets on his last nerve. That... doesn’t really make sense as a go-to move taking into account the type of weapon in use, Zilu’s state of mind and their respective positions. Oooh! I get it! Parrying a swing would require Zitan to actually do something other than just standing there like a sacrificial lamb! Right.

Anyway. As far as I can tell, all the princes got some theoretical lessons, a bit of practical training with weapons and that was... that? Perhaps not one of them had shown any great aptitude and therein lies the answer, but it doesn’t seem all that probable. For one, I am sure that Zilu strived to excel at all of his lessons. Potato - and isn’t this curious - seems really happy about doing outdoors stuff, even in the middle of an actual conspiracy with a non-zero chance of getting shish-kabobed by Xiao Qi. By the way, I don’t blame him for getting shot; it was unexpected, so. Zitan, well, Zitan was probably a lost cause from the very beginning.

The question is this: there are three princes, the imperial hold on Cheng’s army is slipping rapidly due to a myriad of factors, so why not take one of those princes and make him into a puppet general, regardless of actual competence? The final decision in this largely domestic matter lies with the Emperor, no matter how much the Xies and the Wangs may push and pull at court and through their respective imperial consorts. The obvious answer is that Daddy Emperor had learned his lesson during his own campaign for the throne. Not because he himself was an able commander, as I am sure he was not, but rather because of Jianning. Our Prince J might have been thrown into the army young and that’s where he got the resources and the audacity to stage his own attempt on the throne. Was Daddy Emperor fearful that a military-trained prince might stage a coup against himself? Maybe, maybe not. What is more probable is that the Emperor wanted to avoid a civil war after his death, which means that General Zilu was never an option. Creating a third viable candidate by giving the ‘lesser’ prince a ready-made army? No way. Wangs are The Worst and having a warrior-prince would mean that they could never be budged from their position of power. Sorry, Potato, no army for you. Now, logically reasoning, if Zitan was Daddy Emperor’s favourite and the prince he originally wanted as his heir, then Zitan should be given all possible help, right? So why wasn’t he taught any actual skills, whether in governance or in military matters?

The thing is... they might have tried. In episode 61, when Zitan asks his faithful pair of retainers if he would be able to best Xiao Qi, their first answer is not that he’s the Emperor so it’s a given. Well, that too, but the first, immediate response? You studied the art of war. Which, okay, might be a reasonable guess when it comes to any prince, but those retainers are rather young and only recently-promoted. Before their soujourn at the Imperial Mausoleum they probably served somewhere within the wider imperial household, but not close enough to any great personage to be knowledgeable about what the princes might or might not have studied. Also, that answer, should Zitan’s lessons be limited to his early childhood, would make them look like idiots or bootlickers of the worst sort. But let’s say that Zitan actually studied the art of war and did so longer than his brothers. Or, alternatively, with more famous masters. That would naturally be a subject of some talk, if only within the imperial household itself. If so, then the female retainer, who seems rather astute in general, gave the best answer she could give.

Let’s wrap it all up. What I think might have happened is that the two elder princes got blocked from pursuing any kind of military career by their father for purely political reasons. All princes got some basic training with weapons, although not enough to enable them to credibly defend themselves. Which, okay, not like they would ever need to do, because what are Imperial Mooks for. Potato might have pursued additional training in archery; he seems a rather avid hunter, which would read like a harmless enough pasttime even to a paranoid ruler. Zitan got additional lessons in the art of war, more in theory than practice. The first part didn’t stick, the second part he slipped out of, probably thanks to his soft-hearted mother. Concubine Xie really spoiled him, that’s pretty obvious going by the way they both behave about the matter of Zitan’s potential marriage. Besides, it’s not like a blue-blooded general actually needs to wave a sword himself. That would be positively plebeian. Strategy, theory, that’s what matters - that seems to be a prevalent view in the capital. Remember one Wei Kang...?

#ask and answer #the rebel princess #Zitan oh so pretty and oh so useless #not even a dagger what the hell #and this is why I headcanon that all Awu's wards get some actual self-defense training

[allyvampirelass29]

From Badass to Bad Mother

From Badass to Bad Mother A NOS4A2 Review By: Allyssa J. Watkins

A phantom ring, a chilling trill only she hears. Say HELLO Vic McQueen, to your worst fear. Christmas is calling, and you're falling back down the rabbit hole, slashing cords, burning phones, but a Manx rising from an eight year sleep is the least of your woes. Drinking, screaming, setting your house ablaze, you're becoming the thing you hate...... Shaking in the dead gaze of your vanquished enemy, but you should be afraid of another....... Look at the villain you can't see, the reaching shadow seeking to smother. You should be afraid of her, The Bad Mother.

Welcome back to Christmasland!!! My GOD, does it feel good to lose myself in the LONG awaited and excruciatingly ached for NOS4A2 Season 2 Premiere!!! One year is insufferably too long to be parted from the dark, smouldering, elegant malevolence that is one, Charlie Manx!!! Alas alack, Bad Mother only teases our dangerously alluring Vampire Chauffer's return, and while I appreciate the delayed gratification for the sake of suspense, the episode suffers from keeping the man of the hour behind the curtain. The name on everyone's lips, and yet he does not get to speak a word!

Bad Mother opens unto the seemingly happy ending for all of our favourite Strong Creatives. In a world where eight years has passed during our one, Christmasland is falling apart, Vic is still the same wicked cool badass that we love, and now has a miniature McQueen of her own, while being madly in love with her rescuer Lou Carmody, and Miss Mags has found domestic, dancing bliss with the FBI Agent that closed the Manx Case. I was really surprised Vic and Lou ended up together after the ordeal, that she was able to open her heart again, despite the devastating loss of Craig. I'd always thought Vic and Lou's chemistry was more platonic, more of the hero/sidekick variety, so that was such a shocking surprise, her staying in Gunbarrel, and moving in with him!!! Oh my GOD, haha and I'm STILL laughing about CarQueen and Lou comparing them to Rey and Finn!!!

I also found it interesting, that despite their shared animosity towards Charlie, he inadvertently lead both Vic and Maggie to their respective happiness. Vic would never have met Lou, if he hadn't stopped to save her after the Sleigh House Fire. It was Charlie, oddly enough, who brought their paths to a dramatic collision, and also summoned Maggie's FBI love, Tabitha, to Haverhill through his latest kidnappings. I could just see him deliciously pointing this out, with an especially icy, "You're Welcome." And what of our, Benevolent Mister Christmas?

"Who's Charlie Manx?" Vic feels her punk rock version of the Brady scene shatter around her, like a glass ornament hurled at the ground, as the son she loves, says the one thing she prayed she'd never hear him say....... The news of Charlie's death, after an eight year coma, sends shock waves from Gunbarrel, where it all went up in flames, all the way back to Haverhill, where it all began with a girl and a magic bridge. This is where the sheen of happily ever after starts to peel away, leaving a ghastly truth, as Vic realizes the game isn't over. She hasn't won........ She didn't kill Charlie Manx.

Our cool Mom, with her spray painted motorcycles, mad video game skills, wildly curly hair, and fresh new ink, begins her descent into madness, and the more evidence there is that Manx, The Wraith, and his Peppermint Playground are all dead, the more intense the fear, the greater the obsession that Charlie's come back to take again what she loves the most. Her only child. It's funny, when I first saw the title, "Bad Mother," I was convinced it was from Charlie's perspective, twisted to tailor his opinions of what makes a good mother. Vic lets her son Wayne have ice cream for breakfast, skip school, (honestly I'm surprised the dear little lad isn't homeschooled after what his mom has gone through) and while she lives with a man, she remains unmarried. Of course, Charlie would disapprove, and come up with these, or any excuse to "rescue," young Master Wayne, adorably known as "Bats." He would feel at once that she didn't deserve him.

However, by trying to protect her darling son, who is, may I say, a most welcome addition to the cast, as endearing and lovable, as he is clever, and inquisitive, Vic proves herself the worst thing for him. The BEST scene in this episode is of a drunk, paranoid Vic, slashing the cords to ringing phones, throwing them all in the oven, in a mad frenzy, and I wish SO badly this is where the episode had started. It's so powerful an image, a woman on the verge, trying to shield her son from her worst enemy's undying reach, and placing him in more danger for it, becoming the one thing she swore she'd never be...... A Bad Mother.

I think this would have been the stronger opener, throwing us right into the action instead of relying so heavily on drawn out exposition, taking up the entire runtime, catching the audience up to the present day. Yes, I loved seeing Maggie dance around in an FBI jacket, and be reunited with her scrabble bag. Her pre-emptive 911 call was sweetly heartbreaking. Even Bing in his usual vacant-eyed eeriness, ever the Wraith enthusiast, was mildly entertaining. But the ending felt....... hollow for me, after waiting a year, and now an hour to see Charlie returned to his devastatingly handsome youth, only to be met with his hollowed out cadaver on the autopsy table, and Vic, stabbing a scalpel through his already dead heart. Yes, we got to feel it, that quiver of hope, as it beat once, then twice, despite being skewered, before the episode ended, but I wanted more.

I found it so intriguing when Luke mentioned Vic drinking herself to death every Christmas, and I was SHOCKED that this was not the foreshadowing to an especially poignant flashback!!! What a FANTASTIC scene that would have made, Vic flinching as Lou turns on the Christmas music, downing bottle after bottle, watching as her boyfriend and son decorate the house, fighting a Christmas tree, after everyone's gone to sleep on Christmas Eve, not able to take it anymore, tearing off the lights, kicking presents, just tormented by the trimmings and trappings of her worst enemy, while Wayne struggles to understand it....... "Mom, why do you HATE Christmas?"

All in all, a very good episode, a bit of a slow burn for a Season Premiere, but what a perfect title, and some staggeringly good acting from Ashleigh Cummings right out of the gate!!! That being said, I am so ready for Charlie's return to his gloriously villainous form, because as much as I adore this cast, as incredibly talented as they are, it's just not NOS4A2 without My Charlie Manx!!! Goodbye Bad Mother. HELLO Good Father!!!

#nos4a2 #charlie manx #vic mcqueen #wayne mcqueen #bad mother #nos4a2 review

[hecohansen31]

Preying On You:

(Vampire! Sojourn! Michael+Reader):

(A/N): Hello lovelies!

I have a lot to say before this fic so please excuse my sorry ass, for blabbering and let’s get this over with!

First of all this fic is dedicated to the lovely @sojournmichael (she is literally the sweetest person ever, and like I believe that humanity has a chance because she is alive) since she is actually a fan of vampire Michael so... hope you’ll enjoy this babe!

(Also big shoutout to @moonanonwriting who ispired a lot of vampire asks, Eva’s page, she is amazing and an aesthetic goddess, so be sure to check her out!).

(And also to @dyns33 who has a vampire foursome which is *chief kiss*, love you babe!).

Now personal thing: PLEASE DON’T LEAVE YOU FRIENDS ALONE AT NIGHT (both males and females)! I have been left a shit ton of times by my friend alone and although I am still here to tell the tale, it costs you nothing to accompany your friends and avoid them being alone and you might save a life.

Also the vampire society in this fic is inspired to the one of “The Black Dagger Brotherhood” (those are my favorite vampires books, highly suggested, if you are looking for smut and hot males!); if you need any more info on this world, please let me know both in asks or DMs.

I would love if you could leave an heart or a reblog (mostly because lately my fics are dying so...) and if you ever want to talk with me about it, my DMs are eternally open and my asks can also be anonymous, I love my shy babes!

Hope you’ll enjoy this!

SUMMARY: What was supposed to be a girls’ night out turn out much more bloody than what ou expected, but there might be some advantages to meeting a vampire...

WORDS: 6,6 K

WARNINGS: Unprotected (DON’T FORGET CONDOMS, KIDS), Rough Sex, Dub-Con, Blood Consumption and Blood Kink (THERE WILL BE BLOOD, KIDS!), Oral Sex (Female Receiving), Kidnapping (and mention of sexual trafficking, alongside use of drugs to kidnap), Michael being a bit of a stalker...

She wasn’t supposed to be alone on her way back to the train station, after her girls’ night out she had had.

Her friends had promised her that they would all be taking the train and then go back at home, at a decent hour of the night.

But what actually happened was that her friends actually leaft her alone, because of boys they had just met.

She had thought that the magical experience of fucking somebody at a beach party would be less entertaining than actually bringing your friend, safe and sound at home, avoiding her the walk of shame, between drunk and high people, not to talk about the perverts that without no alcohol would have taken her in an angle and pushed an hand over her mouth…

She tried not to think about what might happen to a girl in a party dress, a bit too short and provocative (still she was sure she could have worn her most conservative dress and she would have still gotten idiots whistling at her) with nothing in her little purse (she damned the choice, certainly comfortable for dancing but she could have barely fitted inside the little clutch a little bit more than her ID, a box of tissues, her keys and her phone) that she could use as a weapon.

At first she had tried to beg her friends but they had just waved her away, a bit plastered from all the alcohol they had in their veins, clinging to the guys they had chosen for the night, exchanging glances which clearly said “we are getting laid, tonight”.

“Girls, I seriously don’t feel like I can go back to the train station, alone” she had tried to insist, pleading with her eyes her friends and their one-night-stand, trying to do her best to get them to understand her own worries…

… but apparently being drunk took all the compassion away from your soul.

They had denied immediately her request and the two guys had told her to “shoo away” and find herself somebody, which she wouldn’t do, since not only she had some respect for herself but she didn’t feel attracted by any of the guys there, alongside being unable to enjoy herself at those parties.

But she had decided to give it a chance after her friends had begged her to go, calling her “an asocial dumbass” and she had decided to try it, just to make her friends happy.

Now she realized that the next time she would have closed the door in their faces gladly.

…if she lived to see another day.

She knew she was being dramatic: nothing would be happening to her.

But still she didn’t feel, safe in the slightest.

The journey was in plain light and it was barely ten minutes if she walked fast, alongside being crowded because of all the clubs in it.

But she still felt threatened by even the slightest smile sent on her way, judging it was better just to fake being on her phone with her headphones on.

She was halfway through a very serious recount of her day to her imaginary friend, when she felt a light tap on her shoulder.

She honestly didn’t want to turn around, expecting it to be either some guy wanting to flirt with her, or some drunk guy asking her if he had seen his friend, when he was right behind him.

But she reasoned with herself too late and as soon as she got all those ideas on who it might have been, she just turned around to be met with an elegant middle-aged woman, sporting grey hair and  wearing an elegant vintage outfit.

She seemed so out of place, both for the fact that she was much older than the guys she was with, but her entire outfit gave the idea that she wasn’t there to dance the night away.

She had this dark and off vibe that clearly shouldn’t have belonged to a middle-aged and smiling woman, but she blamed her paranoid brain for that sensation (she had even felt like a tree was threatening her with its shadow).

She smiled shyly at the woman, who instead was extremely open and straight up assumed the lead of the situation, grabbing gently her arm.

-I am so sorry to bother you, but my dog has run away and won’t come back to my car… so I was thinking that you might help me with guiding him back to it…- although it seemed ridiculous the lady smelled of dog, and she looked over her car, which was right in front of the crowded club she had been stopped at.

It didn’t seem a dangerous situation, in the slightest, mostly because she tried to release any tension in her body, thinking she was just being too paranoid.

Nothing would happen… and even if it would… she had her phone, she was in crowded and illuminated place and her attacker was an old lady, which she could easily overpower if she turned out to be a drug-dealer.

-… oh ok, but…- she looked at her phone to check the hour, realizing she could spare only five minutes for the “dog mission”, since she wanted to arrive at the train station a bit early in order not to miss the last train of the night -… I am a bit … late to a thing-.

-It will take you just a minute! – the old lady smiled, pleading her with her blue eyes -… and I will be eternally grateful to you for saving my little Dahlia-.

She just took a deep breath and followed the woman which swiftly walked over to the next side of the road, meanwhile she kept on checking her phone and she was immensely relieved to see the dog, a small white poodle, who looked more scared than her, and which immediately the woman tried to calm down.

The woman moved on his other side, meanwhile signaling to her to keep her position, trying to distract the dog from her, and when the dog started slowly barking towards its owner, happily and with too much energy, she snatched him up, almost dying under its weigh.

The poodle might have seemed small, but it actually weighted much more than she had imagined.

But thankfully the woman, its owner, was in front of her, holding out her hands in order to make her leave there the puppy which, although moved a bit, clearly uncomfortable, seemed unthreatening and didn’t try to escape again in her owner’s hands and neither to bite her.

She smiled at the old woman and made to turn around, but the woman just grabbed her arm, this time more roughly and immediately she felt the bad feeling in her gut return.

-Would you stay for a few minutes? Just to make sure that Dahlia won’t run away- she mumbled, meanwhile smiling gently at her, easing the bad feeling in her stomach, which got her to nod, since she was already in time to arrive early at the station, and moved on the other side of the car, the dark one, near the bushes, to open the door and let the woman put the dog in its cage.

The music was a bit too high and the choruses of drunk people didn’t help: she herself found at unease and a bit hazed by the entire atmosphere so she didn’t see the hand that came to her face with a tissues smelling weirdly.

It suffocated her immediately and she wasn’t able to do anything else but try to fight weakly, but quickly darkness took over, all of her senses shutting off and she fell in her worst nightmare.

As she woke up, she soon realized two things: she was blindfolded and naked.

Perfect: now old ladies were kidnapping people for sexual trafficking.

Was she on a “Law & Order SVU” episode?

But most importantly… was she seriously humoring this entire situation?

She had just been kidnapped and worst of all she would probably be used for sexual stuff she had seen on TV, and she was restrained to something which looked like a bed, without the mattress on it, since the coldness of metal bit in her skin.

She started hysterically crying, alternating it with laughs, at the absurdity of the situation and damning herself for not having trusted her guts.

If she ever came out of this, she would absolutely only trust her damned gut.

After the hysterics downed, she started trying to test the restrain, trying to do the movie thing of thrusting up her hands, but she immediately realized that they weren’t chained with rope, but with metal again, trying the same with her legs, which were more powerful but she was only able to thrust up a bit.

After this, she tried getting her hands out of the handcuffs but she was only able to scratch her skin.

This got her to stop anything and go back to her crying, immediately falling down the rabbit hole of overthinking, completely losing her mind, and tears spilling over her cheeks, her make-up ruined, meanwhile she tried to at least to avoiding sharing her shameful naked state, clinging her legs closer, and trying to crunch herself on her side, to ease her breathing.

She was just a few step away from a panic attack.

And then it all got worse, because she heard voices outside the room she was in.

She immediately got quiet, pushing up her ears in order to listen what was going on, thinking it might help her.

“My lord, the girl is waiting for you” perfect she was in a high-end brothel…

“Madeline, I already told you…” the tone seemed annoyed and tired and she almost cheered at the thought that he wouldn’t maybe… do what he was supposed to be doing with her…

“I know!” the tone of the woman was clearly saying that she knew they already had this conversation, but she wasn’t done “… but you will grow more and more weak if you don’t feed”.

Wait! Feed?!

Where the heck had she ended up being at…?

Was this a cannibal family?

She honestly preferred the high-end brothel option…

“I… am scared…” he mumbled shyly, almost childlike “… I have never done this before, with an alive being and not a blood bag”.

This was getting even more creepy.

She tried to close her eyes and repeat continuously “I am going to wake up… I am going to wake up… I am going to wake up…” but she didn’t open her eyes in her bed, and the feelings of the metal burning in her legs and hands hurt her, meanwhile the roughness of the blindfold pinched her and irritated the skin of her lids.

She couldn’t see much with the blindfold but the room in which she was in was immersed of red light, which brought her back to the hypothesis about it being all an high-end brothel… for clients with peculiar taste.

“She is restrained, my sweet boy, she won’t hurt you” the woman seemed to have moved closer to the boy, who instead just yelped softly “… just go and satiate your need, my lord”.

And with this being said she heard the swishing of the door and the soft steps of the old lady, Madeline and the stumbling of the boy, who quickly came in front of her, since his breath seemed closer.

She heard him take a deep breath, after having sniffed for a bit the air in the room (she was sur it was pretty stinky because she had sweated off all her anxiety and body liquids).

“I can see that she is to your liking” mumbled the woman, proudly and she just felt even more ashamed by the entire thing; she was almost angry for being treated like an object, being judged in her most vulnerable form by two strangers “… I thought you would have loved such a virginal look”.

Hadn’t she thought it was better to be unresponsive and hadn’t she been restrained she would have gladly fought against the two of them, for that treatment.

“Madeline, leave us” his voice from bothered and childlike had grown much darker and deeper and she couldn’t help a thrill from disappearing under her skin.

The worst thing was that she didn’t know if it was because of fear or arousal, which had started growing between her legs.

Perfect timing.

She heard the door closing and almost wanted to scream for the lady to come back, knowing perfectly that nothing good would be coming.

He moved closer to her on whichever surface she was propped on.

She immediately shrank away from him, pulling on the restraints, to push herself away to avoid any contact with him and he sensed it, an hand swiftly pushing herself on her face, caressing it gently to calm her down, but she just started sobbing, feeling like it might just make the things seem just worse.

-…. I am not going to hurt you, little thing- he mumbled, his hands moving gracefully, his other one joining his twin on the other side of her face, cupping gently her cheeks, as if he was trying to take a good look at her face -… you are so beautiful-.

She tried to take deep breaths, but the constriction of the restraints made her feel too caged to breath properly, meanwhile a panic attack was shaking her body, colors exploding under her eyes and she scrunched them closer, trying to avoid taking a glance to her assaulter.

-… but the fact that you are scared is making your delightful smell appear much more bitter, and I have a sweet tooth-.

How could he joke on something so dangerous?

This got rage coming oozing from her.

She fought, twist her hands and crunching her legs closer so that she might hit him with them, but nothing seemed to work, his hold became powerful, squishing her cheeks and he maneuvered himself so that he could stay on her and stop all her possibility of movement.

-… and now rage… it has a salty smell- he mumbled, meanwhile he tried to restrain her more softly, noticing (or maybe smelling?) her discomfort -… we need you to relax, little bird-.

-Don’t call me pet names- she gritted between her teeth, spitting out, thankful they hadn’t shut her mouth, although she feared he might after her little stunt.

-I don’t think that you are on the position to make demands- he intimidated her, his body suddenly being pushed on her naked one, the soft fabric he wore gently tickling her body and again… arousal shot through her veins -… much better, little fledging, I like the thought of my preys being in the throes of pleasure, meanwhile I feed from them-.

-Whatever you have in mind dirty bastard, I will make your life a living hell, when I get out of here- she pushed again, the chain not relenting, but he gently very gently moved some of her hair away from her face, a gesture which took her breath away.

-I am not the bad guy here, pretty girl- his tone had lowered an octave -… I don’t intend to make you feel bad in the slightest, I want you to actually enjoy this-.

-Untie me and let me kick your balls- she ordered her voice becoming much more high-pitched, hearing a laugh rumble on his chest which was pressing against hers -… that would make me feel much better-.

-That seems pleasurable only for you, my dear- he was now completely laying on her, his body pressing softly into her, with much more insistence than she was used, but her body didn’t seem to mind it, her entire features relaxing under him -… and I am actually working on our conjoined pleasures-.

-I am restrained, taken here against my will and scared as fucked- she replied, her hands making compulsive moves to accentuate her situation -… I don’t know how I can enjoy any of this-.

-Some people enjoy restraints- he said with a tone which said that he clearly did, and a smirk she could hear hinted in his words -… and I assure that no harm will come to your way, and to prove this I will unlace your blindfold, so you might calm down a bit-.

-What about my handcuffs? – she tried, smirking slightly or trying to, unsure of what getting her blindfold off might mean; he could try to kill her now that she knew his face, but also it brought some relief to her panicked state, although she wasn’t sure that she wanted to see whatever her assaulter looked like -… you are not going to kill me if I see your face?-.

-I stated that no harm will come your way and I will swear on anything unholy I know in my heart- except the “unholy part” of the discourse, everything seemed honest and sacred, enough that she let herself trust him, since her body was already on its way to succumb to him.

He unlaced the knot behind her blindfold, which she soon realized was just a rough piece of fabric, but she still kept her eyes closed, breathing slowly, trying to regain her composure and finally face him.

Her eyes slowly opened, adapting themselves to the soft red light in the room, which filled the room, sculpting even more his elegant traits.

Because what she had in front of herself was a god.

Perfectly soft blond hair, which gained a strawberry dye in them thank to the red light, meanwhile his face was elegantly sculpted, with traits soft and sharp, highlighting its perfect skin, smooth enough for her to want to touch him, her hands pushing against the chains, and he smirked at her impatience, his plump mouth immediately coming to her focus.

-You have the prettiest eyes- he breathed out, and a gentle kiss was pushed between them and she mumbled dizzy, on the affection he was showing her, cradling her gently:

-… you are so handsome- had she been drugged?

Her voice had come out in a rough gasp, arousal in it.

His eyes, two pool of azure eyes, famished and hurt, looking at her as if she was his only source of hope, the intensity in them made her blush and coat her thighs even more with her arousal.

He lowered himself and gently he kissed her.

Apparently his assaulter had a sweetness to himself she didn’t believe in, grabbing her face, being so careful that she might break and his lips gently caressed hers, just a little pressure, leaving here asking for more and as soon as he pushed himself away, she pouted up her lips to ask for more, hearing a giggle being pushed on them.

-… see… you are enjoying it- he laughed, before grabbing her legs gently, caressing them from her calves to her thighs, just a breath away from the true center -… and it will be only better from now on-.

-I’d still prefer to be free, and not restrained- because she couldn’t seriously deny what her body was asking for, and somehow his promise seemed genuine and true.

-As much as I believe that you would be on your best behavior if I release you from the hold of the chains…- his tone was joking and everything in him was teasing her, coming closer to her neck  -… I don’t believe that would be a good idea for me-.

He dosed kisses on her neck, giving her collarbones special attention, nibbling on them, meanwhile she moaned softly, her nails biting in his skin, meanwhile he slowly became more unhinged, bites being laid out and his clothed manhood pressing against her center, which had slowly started to leak on him.

-… but I feel uncomfortable- she complained, but the last part was quickly turned into a moan, when he started sucking on her neck, before his light stubble brushed over it and thrills started shrinking on her spine.

-I will make you feel much better soon, angel of mine- he promised, a kiss being laid on her forehead, before gently his nose started moving down her body, his lips marking each space he liked (which was anywhere) before he just stopped over her little Venus mound, staring at it with an intensity that made her close her eyes and whimper, unsure of herself.

Till she saw his amazed face, like a kid put in front of candies.

His tongue darted out between his lips, flicking teasingly between her folds, just searching a tiny taste of her, which brought immediate ecstasy to him, scrunching his eyes closer and smiling gently, as if he hadn’t expected less from her: sweet outside and inside.

And she gripped the chains to get some balance, unprepared for what his tongue promised and kept doing as soon as he got the hint that she enjoyed it.

He pushed himself closer to her, his tongue gently mapping her out, avoiding carefully her pearl of pleasure, and just exploring her folds, collecting the wetness on it, before laying gentle wet kisses on her thighs, letting her enjoy a moment of peace.

-… feeling better? – he looked slowly better at her, between long lashes, and she couldn’t help but feel a mess, tears and red cheeks on her face, not to talk about the state of her hair, which had brushed ungracefully against the surface, but he just looked at her as if he was seeing a masterpiece -… because you just made me even more hungry for you-.

And to point it out, he sucked a hickey on the frail skin of her inner thigh, his teeth pushing and pulling on her skin.

He then breathed on her pearl, delightfully engrossed, pushing through her folds and revealing itself softly to her assaulter, who then latched himself on it.

He started sucking and gently his hand reached out for her right nipple, twirling it between his fingers, pulling it and pulling out a moan, from her.

Then his tongue moved between the folds , again, patterns being delicately described on them, before he just started licking as if he was following his own pleasure and not hers, feeding himself on her excitement and ambrosia, and she pushed and pulled on the chains, just to get her hands in his soft hair to pull them and push him away, her sensitivity increasing with each step that brought her closer to her orgasm.

And it was in this situation of extreme pleasure that she was brought back by a sudden bite down her left inner thighs, almost as painful as the prick of a blood test, but a finger pushing on her clit brought her back in an ecstasy state again, although she wasn’t in the hazy atmosphere of the pre-orgasmic pleasure.

She tried to push herself up to understand what was going on, but the hand on her nipple, pushed her back, keeping her anchored down, but she soon heard other than the prick, sucking on her thigh, different from the one that had left the hickey, as if he was sucking something out of her.

She lost all her breath as soon as this sensation moved from pain to pleasure, with the lazy stroking of her clit and the kneading of her breasts, and she closed her eyes, to focus on the sensation, trying to understand what was going on between her thighs, mostly because the sucking was becoming more violent and she was slowly slowly feeling tired, although soft adrenaline run through her veins.

She was sure that five minutes had passed when he broke away, a kiss delivered on the sore pace on her thighs, a gasp and whine of pain leaving her mouth, meanwhile he gently breathed on the bruise, bringing some relief, before moving closer to her, and when she came face to face with him she saw that his teeth and lips were smeared with blood.

The sight terrified her, but also a part of her wanted to lick off the blood on his lips.

He had a crazy light on his face and he looked at her with the biggest smile she had ever seen, and although she knew it was crazy, she smiled back, meeting him halfway for a kiss, blood being smeared on her face and the tang of iron immediately stuck out in her mouth, meanwhile it all smeared on her lips as a messy lip-gloss and from the face she got…

… it turned him on.

-Look at you being all messy, angel of mine- and he licked her blood off her lips, much to his gluttony than to clean her.

She honestly wanted to think this was all fucked up, but… also… she just felt too excited for any thoughts that didn’t involve him and pleasure.

He had also proven himself unable to cause her true pain (the bite to her thigh only proved to be a precious aphrodisiac) so she somehow trusted him, fascinated by the damnation of his beauty and now that they were closer she saw that his eyes held a blunt hurt.

Tiredness satiated by her and adrenaline swiftly came over him and she soon found her legs around his waist, meanwhile he disrobed himself of his slacks.

She gently spread even more her legs, making sure to make him accommodate much better between them meanwhile she helped him out of his silk shirt, pushing it over his head, a joking smile being passed over his lips, immediately matched by hers.

When he was equally as disrobed as her he gently teased her folds with his manhood, spreading slickness around it, before pushing inside her unkindly, but it didn’t hurt for more than a few minutes, when he started moving savagely in her, a rhythm she had never had in her and a length which hit points she never knew she had.

He pushed an arm on the side of her face and the other tangled in her hair, pulling her head up to meet in a kiss, meanwhile she tried to grasp better her legs around him to secure herself better on him, in order not to lose her grip so easily as she was doing, bucking up at its pushes.

Her hips trying to follow his patterns, in order for him to brush against that special spot which made her gasp in true pleasure.

And he found it… again and again…

Which got her screaming of true pleasure, meanwhile he growled in her ears, before pushing his mouth on her neck, again something sharp on her neck and she slowly turned her head to it, finally understand what the pain was about…

… fangs were piercing her neck.

And the pain and the true madness didn’t hit her till that moment.

She came with a loud scream, fear pushing her over, but it didn’t end up there, he kept pushing in her, meanwhile he pulled out blood from her till she felt too dizzy to do anything and soon… blackness welcomed her, but only after her third orgasm of the night.

When she woke up, she was clothed in what looked like a silk slip and although she was still restrained, she wasn’t chained to a platform, instead her hands were “just” tied back, meanwhile her legs were gently linked together with a silk ribbon.

She was able to wriggle in order to get her back against the wooden headboard, meanwhile her eyes gently adapted themselves to the soft dark, much healthier than the red light in which she had been immersed for her nightmarish (although she could also swore that it had all been a very interesting and confusing wet dream) night with a vampire.

She immediately recognized a room which wasn’t hers, but it had such a good taste that she couldn’t help but take a second look to stare at everything, from the elegant shelves full of books to the curtains of a dark royal blue, velvet and heavy enough to avoid sun filtering there.

Was this another dream?

Or had it all been reality?

She was scared to discover more.

… but it wasn’t her decision to make.

A little cough alerted her that she wasn’t alone in the room and soon her eyes met her assaulter’s, the vampire’s eyes, which got her immediately shivering in her place, moving away even more in the bed, which only got a soft chuckle from him.

But now that adrenaline didn’t cloud his eyes, she could see that her rejection took a toll on him.

-I didn’t harm you before, and I won’t harm you now- he repeated, watching her as an annoying and never-learning child.

-Oh yeah… your bites were the softest thing my skin has ever experienced- she screeched back, feeling the place on her thigh, where he had bitten her, immediately become sore and aching, a bruise blooming on it, meanwhile his neck was extremely stiff.

And through it all, she felt tired.

But she was keeping on utter anger.

-… I didn’t think you minded the pain, little angel, when you were coming around  me, with those delicious mewls- he retorted back and she was the closest to punch him, but also his face looked so sad and destroyed, definitely tired that she…

… she somehow wanted to hug him, bring him closer…

… maybe closer between her thighs and push him…

-I really hope that you didn’t continue fucking me like an animal, after I passed out- she just mumbled, getting a little smirk from him who immediately raise from his place on the armchair to come closer and although she shrank out of fear, something in her told to lean closer, follow him -… and I hope it wasn’t some stranger who put me into this thing-.

The tiny slip of silk looked, now that she had just taken a good look at it, pretty expensive and not of her time, clearly a bit old style but she enjoyed the way it flowed around her, and she knew he felt the same about it, by the way he looked at her.

But it seemed there was much more: it was… as if she could sense it…

-I personally cleaned you, after you passed out; I took too much… I am sorry- he seemed sincere, and as soon as he was close to her, he gently pushed a kiss on the side of her legs, electricity being pushed in her entire body -… but… you taste so good-.

She couldn’t help but piece up all those pieces together to one single conclusion, the one she knew, but scared her:

-You are a vampire…- although she said it, she didn’t sound even in the slightest confident in her solution, knowing how crazy it sounded.

-… do you want me to start sparkling? – he smirked, confirming her words, meanwhile she just glared at him, seriously trying to free herself from the rope’s hold.

-Please don’t joke on this! – she choked on her own words -… this is all so scary! And new! -.

-Would you prefer an explanation? – although he was teasing her, there was some truth behind his affirmation, and she could see in his eyes the wanting and willingness to share his burden with someone else.

-That would be nice- she pressed her lips together to assume an even more serious tone -… I have been nothing but manhandled this entire night, so some explanations are much needed-.

-Well I am indeed a vampire, I have to confirm your hypothesis- he assured her as if it might bring her some comfort -… we are real, but we don’t hurt people… usually…-.

-Oh yeah, tell that to my thighs-.

As if to apologize he gently caressed her bruise, but she could see he was somehow proud of having left a mark on her.

“What an egotistical bastard” she found herself thinking, with a light smile.

-… we don’t feed straight up form humans, usually… blood bags are preferable, but the person who brought me my blood bags is actually dead… so… I don’t have that option anymore- he looked truly sad at that mention, but tried not to let it show too much on his face -… usually vampires have mates; mates can be romantical partners, but usually it’s just a blood thing; any other vampire’s blood might kill another vampire, unless they are your mates, bringing nourishment-.

He could see that she had been shocked by it, no matter the fact that she tried to hide it.

-I know that it might not be… believable… but… I felt that I owed you an explanation-.

It could all be a crazy idea of a crazy man, but she somehow trusted him, even after he had taken her blood without her permission.

-It is crazy, but somehow… believable- she honestly would have accepted anything those angelic lips might have delivered -… so will I be kept there as your blood bag? -.

She was a bit scared about the prospect, but her assaulter seemed interesting and if she would be getting a mind-blowing orgasm, each time.

-… no, tomorrow you will go back home, with no memory of it- he replied, again his face becoming sadder, as if during that night he had grown fond of her.

-And what will you do? – she asked, not really out of curiosity, but a strange jealousy brewing in her chest -… kidnap another girl? -.

-Are you jealous, little angel? – he immediately caught up her annoyance, and she rolled her eyes, to hide her embarrassment -… because I don’t think that I would want another other than you after tonight-.

-Then… how? – she honestly didn’t see many options and didn’t understand why he couldn’t be a bit selfish and just use her.

Had she honestly thought that?

-Blood bags- he mumbled out, and she understood that clearly they didn’t satisfy him enough -… this was mostly to show the new people I am with that I was able to use my fangs still, they see the usage of blood bags as… -.

-… you being weak? – she honestly couldn’t believe that he could be mistaken for weak or anything else in that department with his slim but strong arms and thick thighs.

-Kind of… and don’t tell anybody…- he leaned down to whisper with conspiration in her ear -… but I am supposed to be the boss here-.

-You certainly know how make a girl feel special- her nose slightly brushed against his.

-… I thought the first orgasm was enough for that- he made her blush and she honestly couldn’t help but feel like she might have enjoyed this entire atmosphere, had she not thought about the fact that he was a vampire…

And he immediately pushed himself on the bed, again between her thigh, a place he liked enough, and she couldn’t help but feel like he might just belong there.

-… I can give you some more convincing, favorite angel of mine- he mumbled meanwhile he raised her slip -… just one last kiss and then I will tell you goodbye-.

She woke up the following day in a hospital bed: no memory of the previous night, if not a few sparks of that bloody night being shot under her pupils, soft bites on her skin and soft words, including the imaginary whisper of “angel”.

So, when she woke up, nothing made her feel nervous or anything, unlike her friends, sitting on those uncomfortable hospital chair next to her bed, immediately getting up with her and immediately they breathed for the first time, during that long night.

They later explained to her that last night she had gone missing; they had felt bad for letting her go alone and expected to find her at the station, but not only she wasn’t there but she wasn’t also picking up her phone, and this had gotten them worried enough to immediately search for her in each place of the small center, before moving to the nearest police station.

They had found her later in the morning, passed out, her arms and legs a bit scratched by what looked like rope or chains, burning soft marks in her skin, but nothing broken.

She just wasn’t waking up.

“We were so damnably worried, (Y/N)!” had almost screamed Layla, meanwhile she had cried.

“,,,where have you been for the entire time?! What happened?!” Kathryn, her other friend, backed her up, but she was unable to answer in any way, knowing only that she hadn’t been hurt, something was instilled in her brain about her having been safe the entire night.

Her friends had insisted that she did a rape test, mostly because of the bruise on her thigh, which couldn’t be mistaken for anything else, but she had wanted to avoid the entire thing, since it seemed like she had nottrauma and she felt a little voice in her mind telling her not to look into it too much.

So, she tried to forget, although in dreams she sometimes heard loud gasping and something piercing her skin meanwhile she was roughly hoed down, something pushing in and out of her, bringing pleasure, meanwhile she breached the highest of ecstasy, waking up with arousal between her thighs.

She honestly felt curious about all those ideas, but every time she tried to look into those memories she started panicking hard, her brain stopped working and she just started feeling bad, enough that she stopped working on it, focusing on moving on with her life.

But she just couldn’t help but feel like something was lurking in the shadows, waiting just for her, preying on her.

And she wasn’t wrong…

Michael Langdon had said he would have let her go, but he hadn’t mean it.

He had never meant it, since he had first tasted her blood.

But he hadn’t been able to keep her when she had so many links in the human world; she wouldn’t forgive him, no matter her begging of staying with her, after he had told her he would make her forget about it all.

“If you knew about us, you might be a hazard to my community” he had explained, softly watching her bright eyes become dull with pain, meanwhile endless tears spilled from them.

He knew that exhaustion and the blood bound between them brought those emotions out of her, intensifying anything she felt and making her feel more and more attached to him, which made him seem a true bastard, since he had taken advantage of that drunken stupor.

He had longed for her, the moment after Madeline had taken her back where she had found her, after he had gently cleaned up each inch of her skin, to make sure nothing of his would be staying on her skin, although the police would without a doubt not find his fingerprints.

And he still longed for her, but there was no use into crying on spilled milk and slowly he had started elaborating a plan on how to get her back.

Because, although for the moment she belonged to the human world, she wouldn’t be there for much more time, had the revelations he had found about her been true.

He had felt in her blood something different from human blood, swiftly realizing that she was a bit like him, and that was why her blood sang to him: she was his mate.

She was a half-blood, she had a clear vampire genealogy in her blood, and swiftly he had made sure to discover more about it, till he was sure that that vampire blood in her veins might be enough to make her turn, had she wanted it.

And he was waiting for just the right time to claim his rightful mate, slowly spying on her and checking that no harm came to here, spying her meanwhile she turned in her bed, her fingers between her legs, trying to satiate the arousal between them.

But he knew already that she never would…his own hand didn’t help him in the slightest.

He had just to have faith in the plan.

After he had lost Mrs Mead he had thought that he would be forever alone…

… but destiny had brought them together, destiny had given him a mate.

And now he was preying on her.

---

I really hope that you liked it and in the future, there might be more chapters of this, since me and Michael aren’t done with reader...

And here it is all the lovely people who wanted to be tagged!

@emmyrosee @blakewaterxx @1-800-bitchcraft @rocketgirl2410 @so-langdon @ladynuwanda @lovelylangdonx @babydollcake @eternalnostalgia @drama-penguins @dramapenguinthe3rd @dyns33 @orwellbradburylovecraft @no-need-for-rules @blackandwhitejoker @ccodyfern @hplotrfan @mournhubdotgov @mazionluigi @gold-dragon-slayer @venusbloodlust @evcnpeterz @ beautiful--kkryptonite @maginemarvellove @ moonagecordelia @ happypyromancer @supanatural101 @yourfavoritefairy @ brieababy @angsty-otters-blog @jazzcowgirl @awesomemarmaid @ kaigitana @queencocoakimmie  @mega-combusken

If you haven’t been tagged, and liked the teaser, let me know (sometimes tumblr is stupid) and if you want to be added to my tag-list, just send over a DM or an ask!

Love you, lovelies!

-Heco Hansen.

#vampire michael langdon #vampire michael #michael langdon #michael langdon reader #michael langdon fem reader #michael langdon x fem! reader #michael langdon smut #michael langdon imagine #michael langdon fanfic #michael langdon fan fic #Michael Langdon Writing #Michael Langdon Story #Michael Langdon Moodboard #American Horror Story #AHS #AHS imagine #AHS apocalypse #AHS 8

[scarletta-ec]

Original Sin Story: Re_Crime

[AFTERWORD]

So this is mainly mothy talking about the original book so I guess this means I get to go through my process. More or less just my patch notes from this build of Original Sin Story: Crime.

Part 1

First, I made Maria a little older when she was caught in a storm. I wanted to distance Levia from lightning and make Maria a more Miku-ish age rather than a typical Rin age. 

Basically, I’m increasing Levia’s association with wind instead of lightning.

Next was Miroku’s name. I don’t know, it’s an alright name but it feels weird for a surname from later EC being a first name of a not-Jakokuese character here. I first renamed him Nemanja, but then found a Slavic G- name I liked, Gavriil. It’s an equivalent to “Gabriel” which is the name of an archangel.

I liked the first few chapters so not too much has changed. It got exponentially more and more divided from the source material as the book quality went down.

I haven’t changed too much of the worldbuilding or politics cause that is not my strong point, lol. It’s serviceable so I let it be.

I added a description of curled platinum blond hair for Irta Li because I think he should look like Alucard.

Changed the “gear” system of time to “period” since that term is an actual expression of time and is not used in-universe/in the book for this purpose.

Changed Adam and Gammon’s reactions to being late. I just feel maybe Adam shouldn’t be so smug and Gammon such an ass.

I didn’t change anything about Vaju, but his description makes me think of the Capitol elite from The Hunger Games.

Part 2

Didn’t feel like settling on “Mogura” or “Mole People” for those people who dig up Second Period relics, so I just titled them Excavators.

Kept the magic car cause it’s pretty dope and it made my friend go feral cause she predicted it.

Genderbent Raiou into Raijoou because I always imagined the Zvezdas as matriarchal and instead of switching it so Raiou was the late parent, I just said screw it, Eve gets two moms.

I like the idea of Horus Solnste being his own character but there’s really no way to make it work without even more rewrites so he’s still Seth here.

Raijoou’s wife still claims to have found Eve in a river. This is an in-story lie and a meta misdirection.

Added that Adam and Eve have a year to two year difference in age, but they’re both around 20.

I found the whale thing kind of dumb so I just made Catherine a “white blur under the waves” (i.e. a dead sunken body). I get it was a Jonah’s whale reference but I don’t think she needs to literally be a whale for her to fulfill that reference, like how Seth is never a literal snake.

Changed the mention of “THE White Army” to “A White Army”. Raisa mentions a test of her “Second Regiment”. I changed her from a Salem inheritor to a Vlad inheritor (who uses fire magic). This “Second Regiment” is an undead army that are all white, like the Netsuma humans of her First Regiment. Though the zombies are resistant to regular fighting, lightning gets them down quite easily.

I have to say, I wasn’t really chill with Meta being a Gilles inheritor when the info came out but the Red Devotees are so terrifying I couldn’t change it.

Salem inheritor fire is not fire magic. The Netsuma are not all Vlad inheritors like Raisa, but they are all skilled in the fire arts, that is, fire spells and weapons. The arts don’t cover blue flames, as only Salem inheritors produce that.

I made Eve a Held sect member from the start, for more conflict between her and Zellana as Zellana proceeds to be an asshole about Held. Since Nemu isn’t too close to the forest, Eve hasn’t seen Held for herself, so she tries not to cause so much of a fuss, aware she’s in a Levia sect majority place.

Part 3

Adam doesn’t have a direct memory of any river. He was just already out in the open as a very young child as far as he could remember.

Adam is still caught up in a storm like the original tsunami and is saved by Catherine.

Made Horus/Seth as less of a dick than he is, by him being unable to bring Adam to Maria (or reveal Adam as Maria’s son) since Maria’s visitors really are restricted and enforced.

It’s unclear if Horus really did update Maria on Adam’s condition as he claims, decide depending on how you want to see him.

Made Gammon and Adam’s relationship just a bit more pining-y, so when Gammon is drunk he just leans on Adam instead of the counter.

Changed the fucking STUPID Levia inheritor bullshit with Venom. Venom is now connected to Gilles Inheritors. Kept the dead body experimentation part so it’s uncomfortably close to the truth.

Made Adam a little less willing to commit homicide.

MADE ADAM KEEP HIS STUPID, GROSS PLAN ON THE BACKBURNER. HE DOESN’T GO THROUGH WITH IT.

Adam circumvents Seth for the recipe for Venom. This is very important.

Horus/Seth has told Adam about the river children, not telling Adam he is one of those. Adam thus assumes he must be one of them. This is further misdirection.

Raijoou is still a founding member of Apocalypse.

Seth isn’t around so much while Adam and Eve hang out, so as far as Adam is aware, Seth doesn’t know he’s using Venom. This is important as well.

Gammon flirts with Adam but slyly takes it back before he notices.

Adam is already paranoid that he’s given Eve too much Venom (this is unchanged from the source but still important for the payoff)

Scene with Catherine is unchanged, because I love her and this scene.

When Eve has the stillbirth, Seth implies something on Adam’s part is what caused it. The pieces all come together: Seth may have created Venom, but Adam went behind his back to get Venom, used it while trying to keep Seth from knowing about it, thus making this all Adam’s fault. Seth didn’t even convince him to use it, either.

Part 4

Seth gets a black eyes and is being creepy when pistol-whipped. Also his glasses were sent flying off his face.

Finally, Seth clears the meticulous shit I set up, lmao.

After Maria was rendered sterile and her twins were gotten rid of, she still wanted a child and enlisted Seth to make it happen.

The twins aren’t Adam and Eve. Seth kept the boy in cryostasis in Lunaca Labora for his destruction powers, and gave the girl to the Lighwatch Temple so he could keep a close eye on her. These are Amostia and Elluka, respectively.

Adam is essentially a tube-grown human. He’s not a ghoul child because he was made with two sets of DNA, Maria’s and a foreign man to obscure Adam’s phenotype.

Lunaca Labora is a large underground complex, with secret entrances spanning to and from many important capital buildings.

Thus, when Apocalypse bombed one of these buildings, this caused a collapse in the section of Lunaca Labora below it, the chaos in which Adam disappeared.

It was incidents like this that made Raijoou leave Apocalypse and take a wife in the quiet village of Nemu once again.

Horus had met both Raijoou and her wife, Inanna while searching Evillious.

I named her wife Inanna because I wanted a name that resembled “inazumi” to fit Raijoou’s lightning theme, in addition to Inanna meaning “lady” and “heaven/sky”, and being a Sumerian goddess equated to Ishtar.

Without Raijoou’s input, Inanna enlisted Horus to make them a child, she she couldn’t have any, and of course not with Raijoou.

Eve is fashioned the same way as Adam- made with two sets of DNA donated by Inanna and Raijoou.

She was a backburner project so she was finished about a year after both Adam and Meta. Seth had also made Eve a HER carrier.

Since Raijoou is a Held inheritor, Eve ended up as one, too. Noticing this early in her development, it got Seth interested in making ghoul children with inheritor abilities.

Seth is still a shitty father, but I made it less..... cartoonishly horrible. Not better, just less awful. Seth is already a twisted guy, so he tried raising Adam the way he himself was raised, the only way he could think of: purely for their intelligence. Seth had gifted child syndrome, I’m calling it.

Seth tried making Gilles inheritor ghoul children specifically because they were hard to make. If he could get them correctly, he could make any kind of inheritor.

When he failed, he melted down their compositions since they were now useless. This is where Venom really comes from.

His first success was Meta, which opened the door for more inheritors.

Seth would have preferred Cain and Abel be born alive, as he swapped the God Seed for Seeds of Malice when they were first conceived. (Notice how Seth just always has it with him and is the first to brandish it, even in OSS: Crime?) Eve being a HER carrier would have increased Cain and Abel’s chances of being born with HERS.

They did indeed die because Eve had too much Venom. Not because of some really gross lazy ass-pull of a plot twist. That’d be crazy, right?

Eve was actually immune to Venom because as the Held inheritor test tube human Seth made, her own powers cancelled Venom’s powers out.

But even though the drug did not affect her mind, it was still in her bloodstream.

Normally, that’s not a problem, but Venom’s side effects in a pregnant person include deformities in the developing fetus(es) that can kill in utero (the same general reason Gilles Inheritors were so hard to make)

Eve still went mad after the stillbirth, which is not because of all the Venom in her bloodstream, the trauma activated the self-hypnosis (another Held inheritor power) she uses throughout the series. It’s a self defense tactic to protect her from the death of her children, by making her think they are alive and well.

That hypnosis will last a VERY long time, it’s in constant action like a flexing muscle, though its effects waver. I imagine it’d make her kind of despondent or tired since she’s just constantly using her inheritor powers without even realizing it.

Seth is definitely puppeting all these disasters but Cain and Abel’s deaths are on Adam’s hands.

Part 5

RAISA AND META ARE ACTUALLY FRIENDS, LIKE MOTHY ORIGINALLY SAID.

I mean honestly they’re like casual, informal girlfriends. It’s like they never actually asked the other out but when they spar for fighting practice they pin each other a lot. They just like being near each other. Looking at each other. They drink together a lot.

I made Meta not such a bitch about Raisa, too. Like, Jesus Christ, mothy. Meta is now worried for Raisa because she’s such a hellbeast in battle, not cause she hates her for [404 REASON NOT FOUND].

Meta didn’t really have any impression of Raisa when Pale suggested they recruit her, mainly agreeing because it beefed up their forces, coming to know her because they had since lived together with the rest of Apocalypse.

Meta finds Raisa’s scar (particularly around her mouth) distracting because they aren’t covered up behind a mask like they usually are.

Raisa literally climbs onto Meta’s bed and probably over Meta so they can be face to face.

Meta’s almost not even listening, cause Raisa’s hair is like a glowing white next to her red face. Meta, please stop thinking about how pretty your girlfriend is and listen.

Instead of completely pointless amnesia, Meta simply wishes to not dwell on her past. It’s more of a conscious effort to repress that time of her life than actual locked-away memories.

To nonamnesiac Meta, her life really only meant something once she was around 20.

HEY, INSTEAD OF CHILD META BEING ASSAULTED, LET ME PROPOSE: 

Much like Adam, Meta had nothing to do but wander around the country, though she more often broke into homes and stole than he did.

Her Gilles inheritor charms allowed her to weasel her way out of trouble, but she always thought people went easy on her because she was a homeless child.

Her powers/the genuine pity of onlookers sometimes allowed her to SCP-1076 her way into a home, but she always felt out of place and would usually end up running away again.

Meta was caught up in an attack by Apocalypse but as the action was winding down, Pale found her and recruited her, her murdering a hostage as a sort of initiation.

The Royal Capital Army’s armor can’t be breached by Raisa’s fire. This is important later on.

Meta is done zoning out so she hugs Raisa to make her stop shouting.

Some very subtle rewording that implies Meta wasn’t dressed before Raisa left the room. Not necessarily naked, but maybe in whatever nightclothes she had. I imagine just lingerie though.

Milky is dressed as she usually is, on top of the covers while Pale is under them.

Made Meta less so goddamn spiteful about Milky??

Basically Meta and Pale kind of joke with each other about their other partners, Raisa and Milky respectively. Apocalypse is a big ol’ polycule, minus Yegor. Cause he’s a creep.

Kept the cute stuff Meta thinks about Pale... who’d have thought their relationship would be the least garbage out of the original book?

Changed a little bit about Pale’s music box tinkering. He’s not making something, he’s taking it apart. Though he plans to put it back together to get better at making things.

Meta is still thinking about Raisa so she accidentally brings her up when they’re discussing the mole in the group.

Meta genuinely doesn’t think Raisa is the mole, and defends her when Pale asks if she’s implying something.

The woman Meta comes across is still? Eve? I have no goddamn idea why it can’t be her in the original so, you’re welcome mothy, I fixed it.

The fog and fighting has knocked out Adam, whom Eve is cradling. The fog is a byproduct of Venom so it doesn’t affect Meta nor Eve.

Eve is so stressed, so hypnosis is going into overdrive to the point she can’t even get her children’s names right. or she could just be so upset that she’s slurring her words. 

Raisa has somehow come into intel that says Yegor is the mole and is conspiring to capture Meta, so she abandoned her trip north to warn or help Meta.

Raisa is not immune to Venom, but the mask she uses to cover her scars is helping filter some of it out so she’s still lucid enough to yell to Meta.

The fog has overtaken most of the scene, Eve has escaped with Adam, and Capital Army forces are closing in on Meta.

Raisa tackles Meta to the ground in an effort to cover her and unleashes an explosion (that ends up knocking the both of them out) in an effort to keep them away.

Elluka is older on account of being Maria’s twin daughter. She’s still quite youthful anyways.

Removed the second period legacy room mumbo jumbo. It can just be a Third Period anti-magic room.

Yegor Asayev looks like V from V For Vendetta, because I said so.

Instead of dying like a punk and offscreen no less, Raisa was killed immediately after her stunt to protect Meta. Remember, her fire can’t penetrate the army’s armor. She was aware of this but it was all she could think to do, or to do at all.

Yegor doesn’t know how Raisa caught wind of his betrayal and wonders if he has a mole of his own. I don’t either. It’s for intrigue!!

Made Meta more... emotional. Cause she kind of seemed not to care too much. Like obviously she was angry and defeated but since in this version, someone she loved, Raisa, died protecting her, all in vain, she’s even more griefstricken.

Meta and Elluka are friends by the barest means. Meta tried scaring her to get what she wanted, but Meta ends up giving her advice. This is how it was in the original but I still want to highlight it.

Instead of a pendant, Seth’s plan and map is kept in a glass bottle on Meta’s person.

Seth remains a little shit in this scene because he’s honestly the best part of the original book.

Elluka still cries for Meta, because of their rapport. God, I just think it’s so sweet.

Kept the baby Pale thing. I mean in the original it was probably added to make the age gap between Elluka and Kiril less YIKES, but I wasn’t quite sure how to take it out. Even if Elluka is older in this continuity, I think Pale being de-aged doesn’t hurt.

Hansel and Gretel are preemies!

Clearly something is up with Gammon, so I added he’s being tying his hair differently and smiling more often.

Since it was traveling into Maria’s maze that marked this changed, I changed his hair tie from high to low to match Irina’s low braid to suggest Maria might be in there.

I think it’s weird if Gammon himself was just kind of removed from the story by another character in his body so I made it ambiguous as to whether he’s still in there or not.

Looking at the babies forces Meta to think about her own childhood.

Meta can’t drain the tanks without letting the babies fall, so she dives inside, disconnects them from their support tubes and breaks them from the inside.

Yes, I’m aware the strength needed to break the glass would have to be fucking IMMENSE since it can handle the pressure from containing a building’s worth of heavy fluid, but shut up, Meta is buff in this continuity. Besides, the glass probably isn’t made to withstand sharp, repeated points of stress from the inside as opposed to the designed entire surface area pressure. I’m sure someone who’s into physics is reading this and pulling their hair out and I’m sorry. Not sorry enough to fix it. sdfghj

I want the incident that allowed Adam to escape to be the same one Meta escaped in, but I have NO idea if I can make that work in the timeline. I sure which there was a goddamn calendar system for this, mothy.

I have no idea what the hell mothy is talking about with Levia’s blessing, but anyways I kept it vague about how the babies are immune to the Venom fog. The wording is more in line with what we hear during Lust Arc when IR is talking about Mikulia’s immunity to Sateriasis’ lust spell.

Part 6

Kept the fourth wall breaking with Eve. That shit’s too great.

Definitely made the pre-demonic Venom Sword Raisa’s sword that they confiscated.

Eve picks up her Held worshiping habits again. They technically never went away but it was hard to do deep in Levianta.

Part 7

Adam doesn’t recognize Meta. To be honest, I can’t tell if he DOES recognize her in the original or not. But for sure here, he doesn’t point her out as Meta.

Adam is kind of silently panicking, so he just says sorry for every movement of the shovel he makes to bury her.

The time placements are all over the place in this chapter, just ignore it.

Eve’s self-hypnosis is still in full effect when they escape deep into Elphegort.

I sort of added a whole scene? More like I took stuff from other scenes and added enough to make it its own scene.

Her hypnosis was in complete swing when she came in the door, but Adam and the reality of Meta’s death finally broke it. Her denial from now on is normal self-denial, not the result of an inheritor ability defense mechanism.

Even though Eve has, on some level, acknowledged her wrongdoing and the reality of things, she still finds comfort in the babies.

I know earlier I made Adam less willing to commit homicide but I find his even just contemplating infanticide darkly humorous. Like, what the fuck, Adam? Of course he doesn’t follow through on it, though.

Kept Gretel being weirdly conscious of everything while Hansel is just a normal baby. I love the idea of Gretel being a creepy horror movie baby who knows more than she should and Hansel is just here vibing.

Remember that Adam thinks she’s done all this because he drugged her with Venom. He is indeed responsible for killing her unborn children with Venom, but he isn’t aware Venom hasn’t affected her mentally.

So Eve’s Original Sin is killing Meta and taking her babies, and Adam’s Original Sin is “ruining Eve” and thus killing her children.

Part 8

Added how Seth technically had Maria’s permission to do what he did, but he still took advantage of that, so even revealing that wouldn’t make him look good. It’s not officially reported cause it could lend him some credence.

Kept his edgy little manifesto because it makes me laugh.

Didn’t take out the Pale/Kiril thing because honestly that was an adequate turn of events.

Glossary

Levianta was founded by a cabal of mages who discovered Second Period artifacts. Magic is powerful, but requires time and preparation to use—however, the old technology streamlined the usage of magic, making it easier and more useful for technological advance. The woman who would become the first queen was named Alice Merry-Go-Round, and she is the one who realized this.

She hired people to dig up the technology in the temple, but was faced with resistance from the local populace, who revered Levia-Behemo using that temple. Alice put a wall around it in response, and this became the “first wall”. More walls were built and eventually this became a fortress.

Her followers named it Alicegrad, and Alice herself founded Levianta with herself as the queen. Still, they faced resistance from the natives. To appease them, Alice declared Levia-Behemo as the country’s god, and made a council of 12 people. Six of them were mages who served under her, and six were comprised of the local natives. Levianta grew prosperous. 

When the first queen died, her daughter inherited her position and took on the name of Alice Merry-Go-Round herself. Since then, every queen has taken that name. The one who appears in the story is the seventh one.

Alices 1 through 4 are based on Alice of Human Sacrifice, broken by the Fifth one.

Loop Octopus and Vaju are of the 6 mage families in the senate. Asayev and Li are of the 6 native local families. The families are supposed to be equal, but there are great gaps between them. Example being Loop Octopus has taken much of Vaju’s wealth, and there are two Loop Octopuses on the senate now (Gammon and his younger brother, Nazar, the family’s heir).

Lighwatch is a place where they raise queen candidates, but also has things like jail cells and execution devices like Torcia Tower. Lighwatch collects girls with Levia inheritor powers. They are able to remove “malice” from people’s hearts, and also hear the “voice of god”. Yegor is able to tell them by sight, as he is an inheritor of Behemo, who can see another person’s inheritor powers. Zellana and Elluka are orphans.

There were different varieties of Ghoul Children when it came to the artificial personalities they had. “Clean” refers to those that have no memories, “Preset” refers to those that have pre-made false memories, and “Copy” refers to those that have identical memories to Seth.

Catherine was a marine scientist, and married to Gilles. They rode along in the Climb One. They had a son, but he was sickly and did not ride on the same ship as them.

For this reason she grew jealous towards female psychologist Rahab, whose two children were able to board the ship with her. When she realized that Rahab was having an affair with Gilles, her jealousy turned to rage. She conspired with Lich to kill Rahab, but in the end was killed by Lich, who she realized too late was really “malice” wearing his form.

So then, I guess I’m gonna have to fix Original Sin Story: Punishment, whether I want to or not. Can’t wait to see what fuckery awaits us in it.

#infoedit #story #fanfic #patch notes #original sin story #ec #evillious chronicles #is this salty? yes #get your daily dose of sodium here

[nellie-elizabeth]

Brooklyn Nine-Nine: Manhunter/Captain Kim (7x01/02)

This really should be split into two different reviews, but I am lazy so here we are. Let's dive in!

Cons:

The first episode this week featured a subplot where Amy thought she might be pregnant. I know it's just a one-off thing in terms of episode composition, but it bothered me that in the premiere of the season, Rosa and Amy's plot thread was them standing around and talking about pregnancy. They didn't really have much else to do, which was a bummer and a slightly weak opening for these two characters.

Terry had the least to do of any character, in both of these episodes. In the first, he's paranoid that other people are talking about him, and in the second, he's talking up his daughters to someone involved in a good school he wants to get them into, and then avoiding a caterer who he thinks is trying to poison him for putting him in prison years ago. Even this slightly more exciting plot thread didn't really provide much for him to do. This is just the start of the season; I'm sure he'll have plenty in the coming weeks... but I thought I'd point it out!

The first episode, "Manhunter," started with the news that there was an attempted assassination, but despite the supposedly high stakes, the whole thing devolves into a story about Holt and Jake finding a new balance after Holt's demotion. That's a lovely story to tell, but it kind of sucked the urgency out of the whole "assassination" thing.

Pros:

I absolutely loved the guest character Debbie, Holt's partner now that he's a beat cop for a year. She was so funny - I loved that she was totally content and indeed relieved to be given pointless tasks, and relegated to "cone duty." Her whole story kept unfolding as the episode went on, in absurd and funny moments. After spending time with this bubbly and slightly incompetent woman, who's obsessed with a pedometer app, she suddenly declares that the reason she became a cop was to find her twin sister's killer... and later randomly lets everyone know that it's her birthday. She was hilarious and kind of relatable too. I'll admit there have been times at work when I too would be okay with being given unimportant tasks instead of anything too urgent!

I also really liked the Jake and Holt dynamic in this first episode, as Jake of course respects and loves Holt, but at the same time, doesn't want him stealing his thunder on this case. It's awkward to suddenly be the "boss" of your former Captain, and I think they play with that tension very well. Especially the conclusion, wherein Holt is right about the case for the most part, but Jake and the others still have to come in and save the day. Holt then apologizes for disrespecting Jake's authority, while Jake acknowledges that it's going to be a little strange to get used to their new situation. That was a good balance, wherein both men were able to communicate openly!

Despite wishing Rosa and Amy had maybe a little bit more to do, I did enjoy the beginning of the "Jake and Amy start a family" story-line. A pregnancy scare leads Amy and Jake to contemplate whether it might be time to start trying for real, and they decide that it is. I liked this because it shows real growth for both characters. Amy, the meticulous planner, is willing to let her schedule fall by the wayside and start letting things happen as they may. And Jake, who has been afraid of being a father, doesn't have a relapse or freak out at the thought of Amy becoming pregnant. I love this adorable couple and want the best for them!

The second episode I found to be stronger than the first. A new captain has shown up, and Jake and Holt are both suspicious of Captain Kim. They think she must be working to bring them down from the inside. While the rest of the precinct is taken in by Kim's kindness and the effort she takes to get to know them, Holt and Jake refuse to be swayed. They hunt for clues at a party Kim throws at her house, and end up releasing her pet dog from a locked room, which causes chaos. Turns out, Kim did actually have good intentions. She wanted to be a captain at the Nine-Nine because Holt is her hero, overcoming so much to become captain. In the end, though, she realizes she'll always feel like an interloper, and decides to leave. Because of Jake and Holt's meddling, they've lost a great captain who was planning on stepping gracefully away at the end of the year to let Holt come back!

I was really glad there wasn't some twist with Kim, that she really was a good person who just wanted to get to know them and work with them. Of course, that wouldn't bring very much drama moving forward, so now we're going to have to see what comes next for the precinct!

While the first episode had Holt and Jake at odds, the second episode had them teaming up to investigate Kim, each having their own reasons for suspecting her. I love the two of them as scene partners; they work so well playing opposite each other, and also being allies. They rile each other up in the best ways. I think my favorite Holt moment was when he's seeking motivation for being drunk and destructive at the party, and lists a few possibilities - a fight with Kevin, something happening to Cheddar, and then lands on a scenario wherein he's been demoted and he feels rejected and abandoned by his chosen family... he and Jake agree that this last scenario seems like a good idea!

My favorite comedic exchange actually goes to Jake and Amy though, right towards the end. As Jake recounts his step-daddy issues, he recalls that the two separate men who dated and cheated on his mother had been limo drivers. The following exchange takes place:

Jake: "*gasp*! The problem is with limo drivers!"

Amy: "Babe, it's not."

Jake: "It's not?"

Amy: "No."

Jake: "Okay thanks, I love you."

It's just such a casual, familiar little routine. Jake gets a wild idea, Amy calmly rejects Jake's premise, and Jake, who trusts Amy's gut more than his own, thanks her for keeping him in check. Their dynamic is the best!

Boyle had funny subplots in both episodes. In the first, he decides to be Jake's sidekick on the case. While Jake is the "Manhunter," Boyle is the "Boyhunter." This obviously leads to hilarity, as he continually says things that sound oh so wrong. I just find it so charming how Boyle is okay with being the sidekick, and how he actually thrives in that role. He's the best.

The second episode hangs a lampshade on Boyle's "sidekick" status, however, having him gain confidence by wearing Rosa's leather jacket. He becomes a new "cooler" version of himself - Chuck Boyle. He has confidence with the ladies, struts around, and ends up calling Jake out on an unintentionally inappropriate comment, instead of the other way around. It's a fun switcharoo, and the resolution is lovely too. Boyle sacrifices his jacket to an insecure husband worried that his wife is going to leave him, and instantly his power is stripped from him, and he reverts to normal Charles. It's all silliness, but I really enjoyed it all the same. Boyle steps in to some more confident shoes, as it were, but he's not unhappy with the person he really is at the end of the day. (He does probably regret missing out on the chance to meet Sutton Foster, though... that made me laugh!)

There's more I could talk about here, but the first two episodes were pretty strong as they were! Some characters had less to do than others, especially Rosa and Terry. But I'm sure there will be chances further down the line for them to shine as well!

8/10

#review #brooklyn nine nine #brooklyn nine nine review #brooklyn 99 #brooklyn 99 review

[rebellect-writes]

[SIZE=1][b]Name:[/b] Jess. [b]Age:[/b] 21. [b]How did you find us?:[/b] In the TARDIS’s swimming pool.

[b]Name:[/b] Drew Shamis.   [b]Nicknames & Aliases:[/b] Drew works as best as anything. Dew at a push. [b]Age:[/b] 27. [b]Date of Birth:[/b] May 11th 1984 [b]Gender:[/b] Male. [b]Sexual Orientation:[/b] Homosexual. [b]Occupation:[/b] Works at and owns Creature Comforts. [b]Powers:[/b] None.

[b]Face Claim:[/b] Ryan Kwanten. [b]Description:[/b] [IMG]http://www.blogher.com/files/Jason-sized.jpg[/IMG] [i]Height:[/i] 5’10 [i]Weight:[/i] 150lbs. [i]Eyes:[/i] Brown. [i]Hair:[/i] Dirty blond. [i]Build:[/i] Average. [i]Visible marks:[/i] He has a nasty looking scar circling his right wrist from where wire cut to the bone. Also, Drew has a tribal wolf [URL=http://th09.deviantart.net/fs15/150/f/2007/073/6/9/Tribal_Wolf_Bust_and_Paw_by_KMoongangSR.png]tattoo[/URL] on his right shoulder. [i]Style:[/i] Drew’s not the type to spend money on lots of clothes he’d wear once. So he gets and wears what he’s comfortable in. So jeans, t-shirts, boots. If he has to dress up, he will do but he always feels like a clown when he does. Jewellery isn't something he'd normally wear either. The exception to that rule is a gold crucifix that he's had since he was a kid.

[b]Special Skills:[/b] He's good at working on the fly, if that counts. He’s also pretty handy when it comes to slinging out drunks at the bar. [b]Personality:[/b]   At first glance, Drew’s the type that smiles and tries to be the friendly type of guy. He may not look it or come off it at times but he’s actually a smart one. He just hides it behind his sometimes dumb looks and useless comments. Drew wants people to be comfortable around him so if he can make people laugh and also laugh at himself, he counts that as win. Now he’s not exactly smart-alecky either, Drew knows when to hold his tongue and stop talking. It’s probably something that he’s picked up and harnessed while working at the bar, who knows.

He’s loyal, stubborn and persistent, and not always in that order. Drew will back friends no matter what because that bond means a lot to him. Former friends fall into his loyalty zone, even if they drag him into some kind of trouble. That’s not to say that he’ll let people walk right over him. He’s more than willing to give a little as long as he receives and if someone’s run out their fourth, fifth and sixth second chance with him, he knows when to call it a day and just walk away. While he may go out of his way to help people and be friendly, Drew’s not an attention seeker and won’t willingly search for it and he’s not exactly great when dragged into the spot light either.

Drew’s known love once, and he’s still in love despite having no idea if Eric is alive or dead. He’s held out hope since he was sixteen that Eric is alive though, and where most people would have moved on and found someone else, Drew hasn’t done so. One night stands don’t appeal to him; women at the pub get turned down or distracted by Ja-Mal while Drew can escape into the office out the back. It’s been over ten years, you’d think that he would have done the sensible thing and let things lie, but he hasn’t. Did I mention that stubborn streak?

On matters regarding the supernatural, Drew’s pretty loud. He doesn’t care if a person has fangs, fur, scales or feathers. They’re still human. He’s not about to go out and cause trouble just because he’s breakable. Drew knows for a fact that a lot of things could end his life, and he’s more than likely to end up in a deadly bar fight than eaten by a ‘monster’. And that’s another thing! He hates the word “monster” being used when referring to preternatural people. The only thing that Drew doesn’t tolerate is when someone kicks off in Creature Comforts, he does have human clients to and his ‘baby’ doesn’t need to be seeing none of that nasty Hollywood monster mojo.

Because people see him as a nice guy, they generally get a shock when he snaps. Drew’s not an angry person by nature and it takes a lot to make him so but when he gets angry, he also gets a little angsty and may slightly paranoid. He’s locked himself away in his office for hours before today and had to be dragged out by his best friend because a delivery had been messed up. He doesn’t like being angry, or scared, or any of those pesky negative emotions because then he can’t help but wonder why he tries so hard. [b]Likes:[/b] [LIST] [*] Cherry coke. [*] Playing video games. [*] Canines. Shush your faces. [*] Working so he doesn't have to think. [*] His baby, Creature Comforts. [*] Cooking. [/LIST][b]Dislikes:[/b] [LIST] [*] Thunderstorms and rain. [*] Dealing with drunks at the pub. [*] People demanding he does something. [*] Being stuck indoors. [*] The catholic religion. [*] Doctors, hospitals, anything medical. [/LIST][b]Strengths:[/b] [LIST] [*] Understanding and accepting of the supernatural. [*] Knows when to back down in a situation. [*] His stubborn streak. That’s saved his life. [*] Isn’t opposed to listening to others ideas. [/LIST][b]Weaknesses:[/b] [LIST] [*] Clowns, borderline fear. [*] Eric. [*] Sometimes he forgets to look after himself. [*] Smokes when he’s stressed. That’ll kill him one day no doubt. [/LIST][b]History:[/b]  

Back in the early summer of 1984, a young mum named Cheyenne gave birth to a bouncing baby boy. There wasn’t much room to celebrate though. Cheyenne had a ‘white boy’ according to her boyfriend at the time, Louis. He was Hispanic in origin; Cheyenne was only half Native American from her mother’s Hopi blood. The boy that she named Drew didn’t look like it at all; in fact he looked more like the beast that had taken her virginity in a brutal attack. Still, she didn’t hold that against her son and even though the colour of skin drove Louis away and left the small family broken, she did her best for almost two years before finally giving up and signing Drew away into the child protections services. She left no trail for Drew to pick up should he ever want to contact her, only a scribbled tribe name on a book store receipt and her cross.

Since he was too little to remember his real parents, Drew grew up in a small town house in the central business district of New Orleans. He hated it with a passion, his sister Anna made his life hell and Amanda and Nickolas his foster parents didn’t even notice, they were so wrapped up in their own respective work lives the majority of the time they barely even noticed their own biological daughter, their foster son was beyond them. It was basically a time where he brought himself up, if he fell down then he picked himself up, if he was hungry, then he made himself something to eat and avoided the family as much as possible by staying out as late as possible or locking himself away. It wasn’t like the bruises from Anna’s ‘lessons’ would have bothered his mom or his dad even if they had seen them when he was around.

By the age of thirteen, nearly fourteen, he’d more or less dropped out of school and spent a lot of his time on the streets avoiding things. He met another kid, just a little older than him called Eric and they started hanging out more and more. By the time he was sixteen, he’d developed a major crush on Eric but he was always scared that the other male would turn him away. He’d seen Eric’s parents once, and they in a roundabout way made Drew glad that he had foster parents even if he did want to deck Eric’s deadbeat dad. It was only a few weeks after getting a glimpse of what Eric’s parents were like that he finally admitted that he had feelings for Eric and got the shock of his life when Eric admitted the same thing.

They had a year together and it was great. Drew would always come up with something new for Eric and Eric would retaliate and surprise him. It was one of the happiest times in Drew’s life and not even his bitchy sister couldn’t ruin for him. Even his foster mom was a little more approachable, especially after she’d stumbled across him and Eric making out. The happiness was short lived though. Eric’s Ulfric caught them out one day along with the pack Bolverk. Ulfric Shane believed that wolves should stay with their own kind and wanted to deal with the ‘embarrassment’ that the boys had become before anyone within Eric’s pack got any bright ideas and tried something funny, so he set the evil doer on Eric to teach him a lesson.

While the wolves fought and tore into each, Drew was held back by Shane. He struggled, it was only natural, and the guy snapped Drew’s arm in two like a twig without even blinking. He was hauled away when Shane thought that he’d got what he wanted. Drew all the while thought that he’d end up as Gator bait or something worse, dinner for Shane. It was perhaps a stroke of luck that a rival pack decided to take over the territory because Shane wasn’t doing what he should’ve been doing. Drew never saw his boyfriend come mate again after that day, the only thing he remembers seeing was his Eric pinned by some shaggy Hollywood monster that smelt of wet dog.

Shane handed Drew off to the Geri and Hati, loyalists that believed in what Shane did. These pair weren’t none too gentle with the teenager either. The Geri threw Drew in the back of a car after clocking him upside the head and that was it. Bye bye Eric, bye bye New Orleans and hello Chicago. He fought against the two wolves, Julian and Warrick. If they thought that he was going to sit back and let them just walk all over him then they had another thing coming. Of course every time he resisted something that they said or did, they hurt him. After awhile it was like he became their pet, he stayed with them for almost three years before they finally let him wander around on his own. The first chance he got, Drew ran as fast as he could and didn’t stop until he collapsed and when he got up he ran some more.

Drew bounced around a lot after that, finding work when and where he could. Sure, he could’ve gone back to New Orleans and tried to find out what had happened. Instead something kept him away from his home. He tried getting a life for himself, and by the time he was twenty five he’d made his way across the pond and settled in the UK, Jackford actually. Instead of sitting on his thumb though, Drew hunted for a purpose and found a rundown family pub that was up for sale because the owner’s wife had passed on because of cancer after pouring her life into the business. Drew snapped the offer up with a promise there’d be a memorial for her. He’s made a good go at things at Creature Comforts since then and still stays somewhat under the radar. Just in case.[/SIZE]

[danwhobrowses]

One Piece Chapter 970 Initial Thoughts

Spoilers for Chapter 970

‘Let not your eyelids blink, lest you miss a single moment...of what shall be known as the Hour of Legends!!!’ Sadly, it didn’t feel too legendary to me, it wasn’t a bad chapter in any shape or form, but I felt like it promised excellence and only gave us ‘good’ But breaking down what I saw; - That Oiran looks a lot like Komurasaki doesn’t she? I know she isn’t but she’s got a similar style - Strange that they showed the Flower Capital and Ringo isn’t it? - Kaido and Oden just hinting hard at the Kozuki traitor, I think we got a hint of who it might be later on, but it’ll be an odd choice since they don’t actually appear in this flashback - I don’t see why Oden went for Kaido though. I mean he is Orochi’s muscle sure but it’s as Kaido said, had Oden and Hyou banded together they would’ve been a force to be reckoned with even for Kaido, so surely if Oden went for Orochi he’d have had all of Wano to drive Kaido out. There is a worry though, Oden seems to have had a similar plan to Luffy and co, attack Kaido in his home while he’s drunk. History seems to be repeating itself since someone leaked the plan again. - Also damn Kaido must have good hearing because he’s sitting on a mountain conversing with Oden between his army - Kiku with the fucking deathstare! - Yasu was guarding Toki, while Momo gets bodied by Hiyori just as he remembers, which is strange because why did he stop? Where was he when Oden Castle burned? - Likewise, Toki’s small smile was...unnerving - If anything though this chapter was a ‘Shinobu’s not the traitor’ chapter, and I guess that will do something for other people but I never bought into her being the traitor. She knows the deal Oden made (and still we do not know what it is, they danced around it so much!) and she decided to stand by him - Unsurprisingly, King and Queen quickly get involved, silhouetted though which is strange, as Magneto once said ‘that’s why the pawns go first’ - We finally see the Kaido scarring and...yeah it was underwhelming for me, it was just a slash, no key to harming him, it looks like this is the first time Kaido was even hit in the battle, and it felt like Kaido was done as well, like he was one cut away from deadzone. - Which then leads to the most annoying part of this chapter, goddammit Oden! I get that there’s a paternal instinct but really? You knew of Higurashi’s power and you fell for THE SAME GODDAMN TRICK TWO CHAPTERS IN A ROW! It’s just, come on! You had to have expected foul play - This being said, Oden took that club like a champ, the offense in Kaido’s face as well (I’m actually surprised that Kaido doesn’t respect Oden as much, surely he’s the last man who was able to make him ‘feel something’ right?). But damn this is 2 chapters I’ve expected this hagwitch to die and still she won’t bastard die! We know she’s not alive why prolong it? Kill the Hag! It is a little worrisome though to know that she at some point came into contact with Momonosuke - Then we get to the potential traitor, Shuntenmaru is the only one we see get overwhelmed, and it’s interesting how. He get stabbed in the back and then the silhouette of King is seen with the bleeding blade, I feel like this is telling us that King backstabbed Doji in more ways than literally. Because King is the traitor...better known as Tenguyama Hitetsu. Why? King is said to be the last survivor of his species, but Hitetsu has the same wings, why is King completely covered in leather? Perhaps there are two sides to the swordsmith - And in the end everyone was captured, aside from Shinobu who was let go because...Oden says she wasn’t on their side? I guess as an Oniwabanshu member she could use that as pull but people would’ve seen her fight with Oden. Seems this is how the swords return to the Kozuki Clan’s possession (or Tenguyama kept the swords) - We always expected defeat, but not like this. Something about them just waiting for their sentence felt wrong. 5 years of holding it in and now this? Oden isn’t even chained! It felt like such a moment required a more epic battle, the Oden/Kaido encounter didn’t even scrape such encounters as Oden and Whitebeard, Oden and Roger or Whitebeard and Roger and it ends but not ends rather dully, no blaze of glory...yet at least. What were the poison arrows about? What boats? What was the deal? We were sold on the idea that this would be the last chapter of the Oden flashback journey but we’ve stretched it a little further, bearing in mind that this isn’t intermission this counts as Act 3 and we’ll have not seen Luffy for 5 Months after next chapter comes out And so the chapter ends, with the announcement of another break, 3 of the past 5 chapters have already had delays of some form so that is a bit irritating, but Oda has been busy with business, probably figuring out how to make Luffy stretch in live action without it looking like a horror movie...but This Time Oden’s Journey will end, the sadistic means of turning Oden into oden, I’m not gonna anticipate much this time, only that there is some way that Oden manages to get his fellow Samurai to avoid the death penalty and that leads them to run to Kozuki Castle as it burns, with the Minks’ friendship severing midway, I can hope that Higurashi and Semimaru will die, since it could explain why Orochi feels so paranoid about Toki’s prophecy, and maybe revealing the deal and the traitor. The Hour of Legends it was not, but time is not yet up

#one piece #one piece spoilers #op spoilers #Kaido #kozuki clan #kozuki oden #one piece wano #wano arc #wano spoilers #wano

[chinarsi]

( DACRE MONTGOMERY + HE/HIM ) —  Hey, were you just talking to ANTONELLO LUCCHESE ? The THIRTY year old is a STRIP CLUB OWNER/UNDERBOSS who resides in MANHATTAN. HE has been living in NYC for TWENTY-SIX YEARS, and is known to be EFFICIENT and AFFECTIONATE, but can also be IMPULSIVE and PERVERTED. Word on the street is they’ve got some heavy ties with THE GUERRAS so I’d steer clear if you know what’s good for you.

**TW: **implied attempted murder, child abuse, abandonment; mental illness mention

First name: Antonello

Middle name(s): Giuseppe / “Pinky”

Surname: Lucchese

Age: 30

Date of birth: November 19, 1990

Religious values: Raised Roman Catholic but considers himself agnostic and a vitalist

Location: Spanish Harlem, Manhattan, New York

Occupation and length of time: Underboss/Strip club owner, 15 years

Affiliation: Guerra

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Relationship status: Divorced

Nationality: Considers himself Italian American ( fathers’ side is from Palermo, Sicily, mothers’ side is from Eastern Germany )

Languages known: English, Italian, German, Russian

Style of speaking: Politically incorrect

Birth Country: United States

Hometown: Crown Heights, Brooklyn

Parents: Bill and Teresa Lucchese

Siblings: Amy Lucchese

Pets: Amethystine python, Jinn, and an albino boa constrictor, Rasputin

Height: 5'11

Weight: 183 lbs

Eye color: Light blue

Hair color: Dark brown

Build of body: Stocky, muscular, aka a brickshit house

Tattoos: None

Piercings: Earlobe

Typical clothing: Business casual to very casual, button-downs/linen pants and vintage suits (*Three Looks by Jenna Marbles plays quietly in the background*)

Personality: “ Did you guys come by ? “ ( Ends at 8:32 ; it’s worth the watch, I swear lmao )

“ Como se dice ? How you say what happing ? whA HAPPING HEA. ” ( Starts at 2:52, ends at 11:36 )

Likes: Winning, music, Friedrich Nietzsche, indulgence, working out, and reading

Dislikes: Birds, uncertainty, technology, anything grape flavored, waiting, swimming in open water/the ocean, drama, younger generations

Pet peeves: Being ignored or interrupted, knuckle cracking, people eating with their mouths open

Hobbies/past times: Running, swimming, cooking, fencing, journaling, marksmanship, knife throwing, reading, avid glass collector and tobacco aficionado

Guilty pleasures: An old soul; loves red wine, Telenovelas, listening to either Nina Simone or Amy Winehouse, and pain

Talents: Can play piano, coronet, drums, braid hair and relocate an entire family in less than 48 hours

Education: Highschool dropout

Fears: Heights, dying alone, being asked to go to Italy

Goals: Settle the family dispute and to keep his ex-wife in the dark about what he does

General attitude: Quiet, reserved, snarky

General intelligence: Somewhat above average

General sociability: Average to below average

Illnesses (if any): Traumatized, most likely very depressed, bat shit crazy and probably a bit of a sociopath, but views seeing a Dr./Therapist is just as dangerous as becoming an informant.

Allergies (if any): Cats, amoxicillin/penicillin

Sleeping habits: Sleeps 3-4 hours normally, gets up early and stays up late, is sometimes up for days

Energy level: Depends on the day, could be moderate, low and very rarely high

Eating habits: Eats more than three times a day, mostly pasta, meat, bread, and sweets

Memory: Fair and remembers faces well but tends to repress quite a bit from his life/childhood, under certain circumstances it is poor

Any unhealthy habits: Overspending, binge eating, smoking, not getting enough rest, binge drinking, uses recreational drugs daily

Peaceful or violent: Unpredictable

Weapon (if applicable): Gun, golf club, curling iron, hands

Favorite types of food: Anything you put in front of him

Favorite types of drink: Water, wine and Ski soda

Favorite colors: Black, earth and neutral tones

Favorite types of music: 1. 2. 3.

Hobbies/past times: Running, swimming, cooking, fencing, journaling, marksmanship, knife throwing, reading, avid glass collector and tobacco aficionado

Guilty pleasures: An old soul; loves red wine, Telenovelas, listening to either Nina Simone or Amy Winehouse, and pain

Strengths: Efficient, passionate, observant, protective, loyal, brave, affectionate, poised, fair, chivalrous, playful, honest, romantic

Weaknesses: Intolerant, childish, negative, stubborn, short-tempered, impatient, perverted, aggressive, blunt, reclusive, paranoid, impulsive, secretive

Wcs: His ex wife, house mom/house dad/business partner, fwb, old friends, regular/associate turned bff, rival that manages to win & screw him over, fwbs that get involved/find out about his double life and are put in danger

Quirks/facts: 

* Nicknamed “pinky” by a small group of friends when his now ex-wife found out he spent his life savings on a strip club and attempted to sever his pinky finger with a pair of thinning shears, also due to the simple fact, he never leaves the house without his grandfather’s gold teamster pinky ring placed on that exact finger

* In most situations he’s the extremely respectful, strong and silent type

* Extremely quick to anger, doesn’t take much to aggravate and provoke him, but he can also be an unpredictably warm, affectionate, goofy individual

* Agnostic and believes you should indulge in all of your desires but always in gentle moderation

* Has a machivelian yet moral mindset

* His respect for women knows no bounds

* Has a really loud sneeze and goes into sneeze fits

* Brutally honest

* Likes to go on late night/early morning shopping trips

* Gets too emotionally attached to people that shouldn’t matter

* Always carries a tiny notebook with him

* No shame in his game but cautious, composed, and always aware of his surroundings

* Has to move things around in a certain pattern before going to sleep

* Experienced alot but tends to keep to himself, there’s very few people that actually know him

* Bruises super easily

* Writes and eats with his left hand but is right hand dominant

* Likes to memorize numbers instead of saving contacts in his phone

* Gets homesick very easily

* Brushes his teeth up to five times a day

* Generous with his money, purely for selfish and superstitious reasons, but only for close friends and associates

* Likes to stay off social media

* Gets his heart broken too often

* Holds grudges like no other

* Will be loyal to the mob until he takes his last breath and would rather die than be forced to send anyone to prison

* Firmly believes in the healing power of sit-downs

* Would never take advantage of a drunk woman, but defintely would get drunk just to get taken advantage of

* Don’t fuck around though, has high libido and occasionally low stamina; a wrong look alone could get you pregnant

* Sanctioned hits directly from the boss have always made him uncomfortable and nervous, no matter who he’s working under

* Takes murder very seriously

Bio: Antonello Guiseppe Lucchese was born three months prematurely to Bill and Teressa on a chilly November night in Brooklyn, New York.

He doesn’t remember much from his childhood other than he never really had a mother and father, but figures he might have gotten luckier not having them around. Apparently, his mother worked numerous jobs to keep a roof over their heads for years, until dealing with the constant absence of his father became too much to bear. Then, at just the fragile age of three and four years old, both Amy and Antonello Lucchese were carted off to Crown Heights, New York to permanently stay with a mixed family of uncles, cousins, and loving grandparents, almost all the surviving members of the Lucchese crime family in a small three-bedroom apartment.

Most of their wives had passed away or left them by the time they’d arrived, so it was a lot like growing up in a dingy old bar but, both children grew up and learned quickly from their mistakes. Learned to use them to their advantage, but every once in a while there would be unnecessary punishments, overdramatic arguments, dinners missed and uneasy, awkward mornings, but. It was more than what anyone else could have given them, so they were grateful nonetheless.

Everything changed drastically for Antonello when he entered the fifth grade. Things became easier to deal with at home, but not exactly in the way anyone had expected. Especially not his grandmother. He’d always clung to her for guidance, support, and love but the moment the family exposed the young heart to their lifestyle, he broke away and heedlessly dove in.

No one had forced him into anything, but as the years passed, most relatives and himself included were absolutely convinced that he was made for it, and it was made for him. Although it was in his blood, after all, a large number of them also knew it marked the end of his innocence, and the beginning of ruthless trek towards a twisted, egotistical version of manhood and success.

In the span of six years, he’d become the youngest in the family to rise through the ranks in a proud, composed fashion and landed a spot right beneath his grandfather. He was creative, intelligent and respectful in a way that the elders of the Italian mob began to appreciate more than the efforts of his own immediate family, so soon after Antonello realized the long list of dead or incarcerated relatives were mostly rats, scumbags, and hypocrites, coincidentally, he was asked to leave.

Then while out at the local bowling alley, his cousins spotted one of his better friends groping his girlfriend. He didn’t even make it twenty-four hours after his grandmother had broken the news of the heartless eviction, and the younger boy spent almost two weeks in the hospital. Luckily, her grandson wasn’t around long enough to suffer any harsh consequences, or god forbid a life sentence but, one punishment that should have been totally unrelated, would slowly begin to ruin his life.

Out of pure fear of her older brother and grandparents, Amy Lucchese decided to finish her high school career at home and cut all ties with him. Shortly after the devastating blow, a family friend was contacted and made arrangments for him to stay in East Harlem. 

Present: Has resided in East Harlem for the past fifteen years, staying moderately silent and unlocatable until being promoted to underboss. Currently works for the Guerra family, laundering money and holding meetings through his own business until the doors open every evening. He is recently divorced, lives alone above an old pizza joint and prefers a conventional lifestyle even though he loves what he does.

Although Show N' Tail opened in 2017, the wide variety of male and female dancers, elaborate drag shows, light shows, warm and cozy atmosphere, has made it one of the most decadent and revered clubs in the area.

#( about. ) #tw

[a-mellowtea]

The Greatest Kingdom | RWBY Volume 7 Chapter 1 Review

Now that my hype has died down a respectable amount, I think I’m clear-headed enough to express my thoughts on the RWBY Volume 7 premiere. I’m going to hold off on posting this until it’s publicly available and everyone comfortably knows what I’m on about, so by the time of reading, this’ll be a week-or-so old.

Going into Volume 7, I have to say, I was extremely excited. Volume 6 was a little bittersweet for me: a solid mix of things I liked and didn’t, where one didn’t really overshadow or completely take away from the other. The hiatus between Volumes 6 and 7 was also particularly exhausting, on both a mental and emotional level, and while that may sound over-dramatic, I’m sure many can attest to how much of a drag it all was. 

However, Volume 7 set us up somewhere I’ve been aching to see more of for a while: since Volume 2, if I’m honest. That being, of course, the Kingdom of Atlas and its defunct partner, Mantle. There’s so much rich potential for story in Atlas and, as “The Greatest Kingdom” revealed, CRWBY was set to dive right in, to some fairly pleasant results.

We open the Chapter with a shot panning down through the night sky, with our typical emphasis on the shattered moon. This is the first Volume, though, wherein we are aware of its true nature: how it got to be that way and, appropriately, the raised stakes now quite literally looming over our heroes’ heads. There is something more immediate to attend to, however, revealed as the shot finishes moving: the Atlesian air fleet.

I’m not certain if this was mentioned anywhere too openly, but Volume 7 Chapter 1 was originally intended to be the finale of Volume 6. I seem to recall Neath Oum, the voice of Ren, making comment on how an important moment was shifted because of this change (which we’ll get to in a bit). Point being, the Volume picks up exactly where Volume 6 left off, with the heroes’ stolen air ship, Manta 5-1, being welcomed home by an Atlesian officer. It doesn’t feel all that much like the premieres of the past; simply a continuation, though I’m hesitant to label that as a good or bad thing.

“But we are here,” Jaune then insists to the group. “We got the lamp to Atlas, so I guess we land and get some answers.” It’s obviously not going to be that simple -- wouldn’t be very interesting if it was -- but that’s something that stuck out to me. The heroes, this little hiccup aside, have accomplished the majority of their mission. They made it to Atlas, which was as far as they presumably intended to go (Yang, V6Ch6: “We can’t stop until the lamp is safe”). They’re our heroes, of course, so something will keep them going, but I am interested to see exactly what does push them to continue a fight they now feel is rather pointless. James has a line in the trailer about how “until now, I believed it was impossible to truly turn the tide against Salem”. I do wonder what that could be, and moreover, whether or not our heroes will inform him of everything they learned in Volume 6.

Back in the Chapter, Weiss warns that if they land in a stolen air ship, there’s no way they’ll be heard out or get a chance to speak with Ironwood. Now, I promise this is the only time I’ll mention further gripes with Volume 6 but honestly: you couldn’t’ve realized that sooner? That should’ve been the first thing on their minds when they decided to take such a risky course of action: is this really going to get us where we need to go when we know that the Kingdom of Atlas has closed its borders? It doesn’t matter that the air fleet is deployed aggressively; they should have accounted for the fact that they wouldn’t just be able to waltz right up Atlas. Yet somehow they seem to have forgotten about that until this rather convenient -- or inconvenient -- moment.

After Weiss perks up and remembers she can contact her sister, we get our first look at Mantle proper, and it’s wonderful. Literally down-to-earth, the dirty streets and brown-grey color palette intermixed with neon signage gives it something of a dystopian feel that is incredibly unique. Here, we get our first look at General James Ironwood since Volume 4 (discounting the Volume 7 trailer), and the presentation is telling. On an enormous neon holographic display, looming over the city of Mantle, and though his words are a promise of safety, he makes them at a distance. I doubt this is intended as screaming ‘dictator’, but merely showing a divide; one that is certainly not good. Yang and Ruby share a remark that he looks tired and Qrow wonders worriedly what he’s been doing (a year is kindly added to my life every time Qrow calls him “James”, and yes I will die in this rarepair hell). Indeed it seems that, in the month and a bit since Weiss left, things have taken a steep turn for the worse, with constant Atlesian patrols and surveillance drones in the streets. It’s certainly looking bleak, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t love this set-up. The shot with the children lobbing a pebble at a drone, then hiding from it, in particular does a good job solidifying that this has become a norm, but an unwelcome one.

Weiss continues to insist that Winter can help them, but our first look at the eldest Schnee sibling begs to differ. It appears as though she’s upholding the military law placed over Mantle, and this seems to shock Weiss a good deal. With that off the table, Maria interjects that she knows someone who can help them.

Now would probably be a good moment for a quick aside to mention how wonderful of a job Jason Liebrecht does as the new voice of Qrow. The difference is noticeable, but I found it wasn’t enough to completely throw me off: at least, not for long. It’ll take some getting used to, but the character is no different, and Jason’s performance is solid.

Our heroes head out into the streets of Mantle, and we get a bit of light exposition from Maria about the Kingdom on the walk, after Yang continues to be everyone’s favorite brash blonde and kick subtlety out into the middle of the street where it is summarily smashed by a truck. I don’t have much to say about the encounter with Rupert the Drunk other than it felt perfectly in-place for what we know of Atlas and Mantle, and that Maria’s right: these kids have no concept of keeping a low profile when it counts. Not that I can blame Weiss; I honestly probably would have done the same. Although, given that we do see Rupert’s blue-beanie’d friend in the trailer, and how the shot pans back to show Winter, I’m willing to make a bet that this particular man will let someone in Mantle know the lost ex-Schnee heiress is back.

And then we’re introduced to Pietro. He is wonderful. Please protect.

The scene itself plays out as fairly lighthearted, until Yang and Blake bring the topic back around to the situation in Mantle. From there, we hear what we were basically expecting: James is scared (”paranoid”, as Pietro corrects), and it seems like our heroes aren’t the only ones having a hard time figuring out who to trust. I’d be hard pressed to believe that, given the Volume’s opening and the circumstances, the Queen virus from Volumes 2 and 3 is completely out of the picture. As it was so succinctly put by a fellow Redditor: this Volume is going to break this man.

Weiss steps up to ask about the Council and Winter, but it’s quickly sidetracked by Pietro recognizing her, and then Yang by the arm that he, presumably, built for her. The revelation that Pietro knows Team RWBY isn’t given much time to sink in before the alarms out in the street begin to blare and it becomes time for the premiere’s obligatory -- but honestly, very well done -- fight scene.

And now I will make my own obligatory aside to praise the music. The guitar piece in this fight is not done by Jeff Williams, as many probably expected, but is rather Alex Abraham’s work. I’ve seen a good handful of people I mentioned this to be surprised that he even plays guitar, and yes; yes, he does. And he kicks ass at it, if that wasn’t obvious enough.

While I saw the fight scene a handful of times before the Chapter premiered, thanks to RTX and again about three days before hand when it was released through Entertainment Weekly, I’m still incredibly impressed by it on a technical level. It’s a fight scene mostly for the sake of having a fight scene, but it looks damn good. Qrow, Oscar and Ruby’s sections stood out to me the most as having some solid choreography and camera work.

And then in a somewhat jarring shift in tone (will this show ever decide if the Grimm are a threat or not? Will power levels ever not give us a headache? Find out... sometime! Hopefully!), we get the aforementioned big moment: Penny, our resident robotic ray of sunshine, is alive and well!

And... kinda honestly makes our heroes look like jobbers? I say that fondly, and with a good deal of chuckling, because I do recall that Monty (or perhaps it was one of the boys?) mentioned Miles and Kerry were fairly averse to having a character use lasers specifically because of how powerful they are. In any case, it makes for a spectacular entrance, and I do especially love Penny’s graceful little flair of a pirouette up to the moon before she lands.

I will say perhaps my one gripe with this episode isn’t Penny’s return, but Ruby and the others’ reaction to it. It doesn’t break the episode, but allowing for comedy over what should have honestly been a very emotional moment for our lead didn’t sit right with me, personally. It’s treated as though this was almost expected, or at least a possibility they knew about in-universe, not a “holy crap, we saw her get torn to shreds”. Just because the audience expects it doesn’t mean the characters would, and I think I was simply expecting more from it. Then again, this is only Chapter 1, so we’ll see where they go with it.

After Penny blasts off to go save another quadrant of the city (she is now its official protector, after all), and Maria is brilliantly oblivious, RNJRWBY and QO are, in an unsurprising turn of events, apprehended by Ace Ops (ASOPS, Atlesian Special OPerativeS, would make a lick more sense, but ah well). I’m a bit concerned about the big ensemble this Volume, but I love the no-shits-given Chad vibes off their leader, Clover. It seems as though his Semblance, or character inspiration at least, is good luck (spinning a horseshoe, wearing a rabbit’s foot and has a clover as his emblem), and I cannot wait for him to have some dynamic with Qrow.

And Clover summarily lists off how many rules they’ve violated in the city in the span of about 10 minutes. Maria: hums, nods, fucks off. Basically one big “welp, he’s got ya there kids”. Bless her snarky soul; I hope this isn’t the last time we see her.

And, yes, thank you very much: these are the consequences I was hoping for. It’s likely to just get them where they need to go -- we wouldn’t have a Volume if they were in jail for all of it -- but they did still break the law and that’s that as far as Atlas’ forces were ever going to be concerned. I’m contented with something surface-level on that front.

We end the Chapter with our heroes arrested, in the back of a transport, and looking like they’re reevaluating their life choices. Cue the new OP!

Briefly: visuals of the new intro are solid, the staff of Creation being behind Monty’s name is really damn clever, “Trust Love” is a wonderful pop-y theme, Penny’s a cinnamon roll, someone please save James from all this bullshit.

Overall, a strong continuation off the previous Volume, but again I’d be hesitant to say it felt like a “proper” premiere. It’s very different from the feeling of previous ones, which can be chalked up to the fact that it wasn’t supposed to be a premiere but a finale, so ultimately I cannot fault it for coming out like neither. It was a good introduction to Mantle, the dynamic of the lower Kingdom, and left me in anticipation of what’s to come, which is such a refreshing feeling.

I’m hopeful and excited for the rest of the Volume. Let’s see where this roller coaster ride takes us.

#rwby #rwby volume 7 #it was solid #also LOVE the OP #catch me swooning over Qrow's new look #in fact all the new looks are growing on me #oh and Robin Hill! #she's gonna be neat #ace ops too #so much cool stuff #i'm just worried they won't have time for it all tbh

[drink-n-watch]

  Welcome back one and all. Have you been looking forward to this week’s Demon Slayer? We were right in the middle of a deadly fight after all. Sort of an awkward place to leave things. I know I wanted to see the conclusion. How about you Crow?

Absolutely (I say in bold print)! And — I don’t think is a spoiler or anything — we even get a brief replay of the final moments of the battle. In case we forgot. True to form!

Where are my manners… As always, I will be having the pleasure of discussing this episode with my friend Crow of Crow’s World of Anime and of course all of you! Not that there’s all that much to spoil, but we’re going to go into the episode in some detail, so if you haven’t seen it yet and don’t want to be spoiled, I suggest you tab out for half an hour or so and go watch it, Crow and I will wait. Also, I’m in plain text this week!

Are you proud of me Crow? I finally learned how to put all the proper disclaimers at the beginning of posts!

You can’t hear, but I’m clapping in appreciation. I knew you could do it!

I can hear it in my heart

Episode 9 wasted no time, we were brought straight back to Tanjiro and Yahaba

desperately trying to murder each other. I thought Yahaba was an interesting character, or at least potentially interesting. You know — interesting design, interesting power the creepy calm cryptic type. Triple C! But well, it turns out he was already done for! Were you hoping to see more of him, Crow?

Perceptive question! Yes, I was. There were hints of character richness there, to the point where I expected him to not be dead. It was only when his skull began to actually disintegrate that I figured yep, he’s dying.

awww man, that’s gonna leave a mark

I’m not sure exactly how it works but I’m assuming the water that Tanjiro summons is considered an extension of his blade since it could kill a demon. Did we get an explanation?

Not that I saw, but I agree with your theory. His sword’s water effects must be an extension of the blade, at least insofar as it affects demons. Back in episode 7, we saw his water powers rip the two under water (well, under swamp) demons apart, and they stayed dead. So I guess it’s the same thing?

I thought it was because they were shades maybe?

Despite get summarily dispatched, Yahaba actually managed to put up quite a fight for the few seconds he was still standing (well, less standing and more lying about evaporating…). I quite liked the aftermath. Like isn’t the right word. Seeing Tanjiro barely able to move from exhaustion and injury after his fight, just laying on the ground wheezing, went a long way to drive the impact of the confrontation home. I could almost feel it along with Tanjiro and what I felt was a great deal of relief with a sprinkle of pity and melancholy.

Wasn’t that great? So often, heroes walk away from a battle with a cut or a scrape. Tanjiro got pummeled, and he looked it. Were you impressed by how dedicated he was to getting to the other side of the compound where his sister and new friends were fighting? He took the sword in his teeth because his arms were too tired. Kinda reminded me of Violet Evergarden!

ok!

But of course, that was just half the story. Over on the other side of the grounds, the rest of them were trying to deal with Susamaru. I was a bit confused as to why Tanjiro was so panicked about this. Sure, Susamaru is very strong, but hadn’t they determined that she was weaker than Yahaba? And these were 3 demons she was dealing with. Then I remembered that Neuko was seriously injured, Tamayo seems to be a non-combatant, and my favourite Yushiro just grew back his head. Yeah…there may be some trouble there.

As happy as I was to see Nezuko alive and kicking(ha!) again, I have to say completely healing her off camera like that felt like a cop-out. Not only does it seem that she instantly recovered, but she can now kick those tamari without losing a foot, for… reasons. That’s a bit convenient wouldn’t you say, Crow?

If I had to point to one serious disappointment in this episode, it was that moment. You’re right! And as evidence, remember how Yushiro freaked out in the previous episode when Nezuko even looked like she was going to try to kick the ball? Sure, Tamayo said her serum gave Nezuko a power boost without human blood, but it seemed pretty dang convenient.

Though you’re also right about something else: Their soccer footwork!

just try to get one past me!

I liked that lightening of the mood by turning a battle for survival into soccer practice, it was a cute scene.

It was interesting seeing Susamaru gaining respect for Nezuko’s footwork!

Despite the fact that things seemed to be going quite well, Tamayo was worried. We learned two important facts. 1) Nezuko is gaining strength at a prodigious rate, especially considering she’s never eaten human flesh (allegedly) and 2) Susamaru was quite literally toying with them and Neuko wouldn’t stand a chance against her real strength. And so it was time for a grown-up to step in.

that hir is so perfect

Tamayo has been playing it coy. Standing back and acting very delicate. But she hasn’t survived all this time in defiance of Kibutsuji because she’s anything resembling weak. Her poise, power and words ripped through the unfortunate demon before she could realize what was happening. And those words struck a chord with me as well. Crow, do you think Tamayo was just trying to get under her opponent’s skin or was there some truth to that story of Kibutsuji living in fear? If so, it makes the character even more interesting!

There’s a lot to decompress from that moment, isn’t there? First, Tamayo has really impressed me. What a tragic character who chooses not to wallow in that tragedy but decides instead of fight in her own way to rid the world of a terrible evil. That’s noble stuff! Yes, I think she was trying to get under Susamaru’s skin (and doing an admirable job of it!), but I think there’s some truth to what she was saying. Remember in episode 8 where Kibutsuji was able to shrug off plain rudeness, but lost his temper completely when the poor drunk dude quested his unhealthy appearance? There was something driving that reaction, and I think it might have been an almost paranoid level of fear.

Good point…he did hate being called sick… hhmmm…

he’s afraid of responsibility!

Turns out the blood spell Tamayo was casting activated the Kibutsuji demon cells in Susamaru’s body and essentially destroyed her from within. Visually it was a visceral scene and possibly the most gruesome to date. It’s going to stick with me. And Tamayo calmly explaining that she had never been one of the 12 demon moons because she didn’t have a number on her eyeball, while pointing to sais stray eyeball on the floor, certainly didn’t make it any less gruesome!

[ A question: Was it merely Tamayo’s spell, or was there actually a curse from Kibutuji, where if a demon speaks his name, his cells within them rip them apart? Wasn’t Tamayo’s goal to goad her into speaking the name? I think that’s what I got from Tamayo’s description…]

I do know Kibutsuji’s curse gives him control over those who have his blood ad his cells eventually kill them. Didn’t they mention something about him keeping his identity secret and therefore making it impossible for other demons to give him away. That’s why the teeth grinding guy was so panicked a few episodes ago. I’m guessing that basically extends to speaking his name out loud. That’s how I’m taking it… I guess he is very paranoid!

Crow thought we should take his questions out but it’s good

Was that horrifying and pitiable all at the same time or what? The two demons had been deluded into thinking they were powerful and on the inside with the demon they revered, but nope.

In the end, Susamaru went like all the major demons have gone so far. Small, scared and pathetic. A lost child who ended up and a very wrong path. I understand why they are setting up this moral dilemma, trying to build up sympathy for the demons, but can’t we just have one of them that’s an actual bad guy? At this rate, I’m going to end up having a really difficult time cheering for the Demon Slayer Army.

Tanjiro’s parting words here were the final nail in the coffin (um sorry, poor choice of expression). There is no salvation to be had for demons. Their sins are too great, the burdens upon their souls cannot be lifted. A tragic realization that is sure to make Tanjiro even more eager to find a cure for Nezuko.

how? 

I continue to like Tanjiro’s reactions. His push to understand puts him at odds with most of the other demon slayers we’ve met. At odds with the demons, too. He’s doing his own thing and he’s trying to maintain his core humanity at the same time. Tough balancing act.

You’d think that with those intense battles out of the way and all the useful exposition we got, the episode would be basically over. Nothing left but a quick, sweet wrap up to tie everything together in a nice little bow and send the audience away with a smile on their faces, ready for episode 11. In a way, it did exactly that! But it also did much more.

It was my favourite part of the episode.

Oh! Oh! I’m looking forward to this, because it was my favorite part, too! Go on!

all the cuteness

My two favourite characters are Yoshiro (because I love comedy relief and a proper foil character) and Nezuko (because I’m predictable). They both played important roles in this part. Yoshiro’s various intensely exasperated faces at getting patted on the head by Neuko, or at the horror of potentially taking Nezuko with them, were so much fun to watch. By contrast, the mundanely painful sight of seeing him wasting away from disease brought all the death we’ve been seeing back down to a terrifyingly relatable level.

What Irina didn’t tell you is that Tanjiro joined the other three in the basement after he’d finished with his vigil to watch Susamaru finally turn to ash. As soon as he entered, Nezujo ran to him and threw her arms around his neck. A perfect “awwwww!” moment. Then, she ran back down the hall and did the same thing to Tamayo! Even better, she patted Yushiro on the head! There was almost too much adorable in the room at that point!

awwwww indeed

For her part, Nezuko seems to almost be taking advantage of the suggestion she’s under. Relishing in seeing her family again. Overflowing with love for everyone in the room. Of course, the interesting part is that Tamayo and Yoshiro are not in fact human at all. But she’s decided to see them as such and therefore as part of the family. Which begs the question, how much is imposed suggestion, how much is willful self-delusion?

I really liked that Tanjiro finally addressed the question directly and acknowledged that he was uncomfortable with the situation as well, but that he’s accepted it because it seems that Nezuko has retained her free will. Thank You! That makes me feel so much better for some reason. Now we can all move on!

That free will bit? That was everything. It seemed to me that Nezuko is capapulting her mind off delusion into a greater truth: that Tamayo and Yushiro, by virtue of their choices, are in fact part of her family. It makes them human in the sense of members of the human community. I love that message!

when the lies are so sweet….

Tamayo and Yoshiro will be leaving town out of precaution, and Tamayo invites Neuko to join them, as they will know how to take care of her. Yoshiro is the one to watch in this scene. Despite acknowledging the wisdom of the offer, the siblings decide to stick together and Neuko runs out the door. Just as Tanjiro s about to run after her, Yoshiro calls him back and staying with his back to Tanjiro the entire time, admits that his little sister is a real beauty.

How adorable was that moment?

Very, very adorable! And did you see who drove the decision for them to stay together? Tanjiro wavered. He wants her to be safe as desperately as he wants her to stay beside him! But Nezuko took his hand and gave him a look that spoke volumes. It’s as articulate as I’ve seen her be so far!

that face!

If I remember correctly, Zenitsu was your favourite right Crow? Want to tell us about the closing scene?

Cool — thanks! Zenitsu is among my favorite characters in this series — and the list is growing! But, poor Zenitsu! Tanjiro’s on his way to his next assignment — his Crow being a real pest like only we Crows can be — when both of them stop because they hear this tearful voice. It’s Zenitsu! He’s begging this bewildered and disgusted girl to marry him because he could die at any time!

Zenitsu needs to work on his communication skills…

Where was his birdy?

Few away in embarrassment?

good guess

And another great episode down. Demon slayer has been consistently entertaining and does not seem to be losing momentum at all. I wish Tamayo and Yushiro could have stuck around a bit longer but I bet we’ll see them again. Any closing thoughts?

Isn’t Tanjiro supposed to gather tissue samples for Tamayo? Shouldn’t he have her forwarded address or something? Other than that, I’m still thinking of Tamayo’s tears as Nezuko hugged her!

Previous episode reviews

Demon Slayer: Kimetsu No Yaiba Episode 01: Cruelty

Demon Slayer: Kimetsu No Yaiba Episode 02: Crow will protect me

Demon Slayer: Kimetsu No Yaiba Episode 03: Sabito and Makomo

Demon Slayer: Kimetsu No Yaiba Episode 04: Final Selection

Demon Slayer: Kimetsu No Yaiba Episode 05: My Own Steel

Demon Slayer: Kimetsu No Yaiba Episode 06: A Friend fo All Humans

Demon Slayer: Kimetsu No Yaiba Episode 07: Muzan Kibutsuji

Demon Slayer: Kimetsu No Yaiba Episode 08: The Smell of Enchanting Blood

Demon Slayer: Kimetsu No Yaiba Episode 09: It’s a Whole New Ballgame

Hooray for more pictures!

  Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba Episode 10 – A Friendly Game of Kickball Welcome back one and all. Have you been looking forward to this week’s Demon Slayer? We were right in the middle of a deadly fight after all.

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