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strong-with-the-sarcasm · 8 months

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Part 4 - Show me those issues

Dp x DC AU: Regent!Jazz & Vigilante!Jazz

Masterlist Part 3

"Show me those issues, how you've been misused. Yeah girl, I'm with you." -Train Wreck by Divide the Day.

Previously on The Regent:

It wasn’t as if the Pit Madness could just be gone, right?

Right? (Jason Todd was no fool, the Madness was still there.)

(Just… sedated. Like it didn’t need to boil to the surface anymore where it concerned his murderer.)

And for the first time in a very long while, Jason felt like himself again.

Until the agony began.

In a strange synchronized motion, both Jazz and Danny twisted their bodies towards the spirits who began screeching in the air between the two, ghost speak intertwined with screams of the damned, demanding the Regent and the Prince help the Robin.

“Broken Robin, bloody bird, help, help, help. Agony, pain, corruption”

Danny didn’t hesitate for a moment to transform into Phantom, calling over his shoulder for Jazz to bring her last few pure ecto vials along as he phased out of the apartment.

Jazz sighed heavily as she unlocked the safe in her bedroom, three vials remaining within. All the supply the Regent had left for the month, until Wulf was able to deliver more.

In any other circumstance, Jazz would have refused to hand over something so vital to her health- escpecially since she was burning through her ecto-levels acting as a vigilante and a Regent, with frequent travels to the Infinite Realms to work on paperwork and attend Council meetings.

However, Jazz felt the tugging in her chest, the instinct that she had to give up her ectoplasm for the agonized Robin. And she was not one to ignore such strong instincts.

Vials tucked safely into her bra, Jazz summoned her ecto-sword with only a thought and cut into the air, opening a portal in the between to take her to where the spirits demanded she go.

Jazz stepped through after a heavy sigh, bones feeling as if they were filled with cement.

No rest for the wicked after all.

Danny had already arrived ahead of her by the time Jazz stepped through her portal, fussing over what seemed to be the local unfriendly neighborhood vigilante, Red Hood, without his signature helmet and sweating green droplets profusely.

Oh.

So that’s how she’d been sensing him. He’s got ectoplasm in him and (by the rancid scent lingering in the air) corrupted at that.

“Did he go swimming in the Realms sewer?” Jazz asked, half-seriously as she willed the portal closed behind her and leaned her sword against a wall before pulling out the vials of pure ecto.

Danny struggled to laugh at her attempt at humor however, chirping and warbling at Red Hood’s prone form. Jazz offered the vials to her little brother, “Will these flush out the corrupted ecto?”

He didn’t answer her, poking at Hood’s chest plate, a warble of worry-horror filling the air.

“Danny.”

Jazz reached for her proto-core (tucked behind her heart) and chirped back with concern-worry-resignation.

Which worked to get Danny’s attention and he snapped his focus to her, “Jazz, give him the pure stuff! He’s starving!”

Oh again.

In Hood’s current state, could he swallow it on his own?

No, he couldn't. He'd likely choke on it or spit it back out on reflex. One of them would have to administer it by mouth.

Jazz sighed heavily before she uncapped the first vial and tipped its contents into her mouth. The familiar battery-acid taste was heavy on her tongue as she tried not to reflexively swallow it in her hunger.

(She tried to ignore how her heart raced.)

Jazz leaned over Red Hood's prone body, gently carded one hand into his hair, and set the other onto his throat before she pressed her lips onto his own.

To stay in my shadows you must aid my Knight, Regent.

Of course, My Lady.

I speak of the one born in my streets and unburied in my soil, hidden under Red.

The Red Hood?

The Once Bright Light of Gotham, unavenged. Care for him and he will care for you.

Frostbite had been quite shocked at their sudden arrival to the Far Frozen with Red Hood in tow. Jazz’s sword made quite an entrance after all, and Danny’s choice to drop hood’s sweating and shivering body into the Yeti’s arm was enough to get him into motion.

“Great One, Regent.” The Tribal Leader greeted them as he turned on his heel with his cargo firm in his grasp.

“Hey Frosty. Gotta doozy for ya.” Danny quipped with some warmth. Being in Realms again seemed to cheer him up ever since the move to Gotham, even if it wasn’t a common occurrence anymore.

(Jazz kept him far away from the Observants since taking the crown.)

(Nosey one-eyed bastards.)

“Hi Frostbite.” Jazz offered her own greeting as they followed behind the Yeti into the tribe proper.

It had been some time since Jazz had been into the Healing tents, but Danny had always enjoyed Frostbite’s company so he easily maneuvered his way around the equipment and tables towards the sectioned off beds in the back, which were Yeti sized and easily dwarved Hood’s own six foot brick house frame.

Frostbite hummed as he examined his new patient, having heard Danny explain their treatment thus far of Hood.

“Great One, you were correct in this regard. Red Hood was dying of Corruption due to ectoplasm.”

“But?” Jazz proded.

“His proto-core has accepted the pure ecto and has begun to stabilize.”

Both siblings breathed a sigh of relief. That was good news, especially to hear of a new Liminal that could survive Gotham- means Hood was a survivor in more than one regard.

“However, there is something more concerning…” The Yeti trailed off, a soft growl left in the wake of his words.

“Frosty?”

“Pardon me, Great One. It seems that Red Hood’s proto-core isn’t ice-based, it needs warmth.”

Danny, despite the seriousness of the situation, laughed at Jazz’s resulting blush at Frostbite's words.

(Oh I can keep him warm.)

Not to mention how she they had gotten the pure Ectoplasm down his throat to begin with

“Regent?”

Jazz sighed and answered the Yeti, “I can offer him my warmth until he can be returned.”

Frostbite pondered for a moment, “Ah, yes, the Regent has a Fire-based Proto-core. That should do well.”

(Danny had laughed himself sick when it had come to light that Jazz was his opposite in core too.)

(Fire and Ice)

(Hero and Villain)

With a passive glare at her now-chuckling little brother, Jazz approached Hood’s bed and carefully climbed in alongside him.

(She did her best to block out how her body wanted to curl into him, grasp onto him and never let go.)

Turned onto her side away from him, back pressed to his form, Jazz forced her body to relax and let her natural warmth seep out from her core into the vigilante at her back.

(Little did Jazz know that she would cuddle him in her sleep.)

(And that a pesky younger sibling would coo and take a few pictures to save as blackmail.)

Jason dreamed.

He dreamed of his mother, the good days when she would read to him softly and wrap him in her arms.

He dreamed of late night patrols with his dad, tucked under his cape when he wanted to feel safe.

He dreamed of a red haired woman who kissed him softly, held him gently, and… chased the cold away.

Why had he been so cold?

Why was his heart aching?

It wasn’t supposed to ache.

He wanted his dad.

He wanted his books.

He wanted his dream woman to kiss him again and tell him her name, just so he’d have something to hold onto when he woke up.

(If he woke up.)

A/N:

Alright, part four! With a glimpse into Jason and Jazz's natural bond as, well, maybe... soulmates? Who knows. I'm a sucker for that trope.

If you want a spoiler for what's happening to Jason, check out the original prompt!

And make sure to subscribe to the master list when it's created.

#dpxdc #jazz fenton #dp x dc #dp x dc au #dc x dp crossover #jason todd #danny fenton #Regent!Jazz Au #Regent!Jazz #anger management ship #hardcover ship #jazz x jason

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blueberry-pride · 1 year

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DORM PLAYLIST SCREEN

Playlist screens are back and are here to celebrate over 800+ followers in the past year! Go to my page to see the specials. The Follower Event will be from March 1-25, 2023. Come celebrate with me!

Meaning behind each song:

Heartslabyul "Then she aimed at my chest with love in her eye."- This song overall is catchy, a jumpy song that I'd think would fit Heartslabyul as a whole. Having that whole talk about madness but at the same time just playing it off and like its normal for them. This song sounds mischievous to me, something I see all peeps from this dorm are capable of.

Savanaclaw "We like it dangerous, we like to see you sweat, turn up another notch, you ain't see nothing yet."- This dorm is known for living life on the more rugged and rough side of things, hard work and often times by physical means to get what they want. And just like their dorm leader, they have a few tricks prepared when you least expect it.

Octavinelle "I don't belong among the angels, and baby that's just fine with me."- I like to think Octavinelle students are opportunistic as a whole, see something they like? they'll take advantage of it before anyone does. They can be as nice and as giving as the generous Sea Witch just remember not to go too far into the deep end cuz they sure know how to.

Scarabia "Can we go back, this is the moment. Tonight is the night, we'll fight til it's over."- Honestly one of the best songs at a party sure to get everyone dancing which is why I wanted this song for Scarabia. I see this dorm as both fun and seriousness. Planning and carefully plotting so that they can give it their all and they would still have enough energy in the end. You can't contain them!

Pomefiore "Pop culture was in art now art's in pop culture in me."- I like to think each Pomefiore student has some form of creativity in them and they all would pursue it through hard work to have it in the image that they see fit. A song that I see fit this dorm (one of the reasons being because its freaking Lady Gaga) because everyone here wants to get recognition by showing their own kind of beauty.

Ignihyde "Looking to the ways of the ones before me, looking for the path of the young and lonely."- A dorm that revolves around updating and improving on pre-existing things so that it becomes more stronger and something to better even more so for the next gen of starry-eyed students. Though with their diligent work, it's not shock that this dorm is the most introverted out of all. Mostly focusing and tending to themselves with one another. (Another reason why I chose this song is because its from Wreck it Ralph with the tech and all)

Diasomnia "Tell you you're the greatest but once you turn, they hate us."- I could list a lot of why I chose this song for Diasomnia but generally, it's about the main theme which is...well, enemies. It even says on the wiki, that they have a track record of having students with a lot of magical capabilities. So in a school that trains wizards with said magic, it comes as no surprise that with their greatness comes with people trying to see them as competition *coughs* Savanaclaw *coughs*. But besides that, Diasomnia is a force to be reckoned with and I could see it with this song

#twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #twstファンアート #twst edit #twst wonderland #twst headcanons #heartslabyul x reader #savanaclaw x reader #octavinelle x reader #scarabia x reader #pomefiore x reader #ignihyde x reader #diasomnia x reader #twst imagines

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zeestarfishalien · 5 months

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Oops, John Constantine Found Family

[Day 1 dpxdc week 2023; John Constantine // Found Family // Oops]

• John Constantine/Box Ghost/Lunch Lady

John curses the Infinite King the first time he’s asked out to dinner.

It’s ridiculous, the parents of the little ghost child are loud and obnoxious and…definitely not endearing in the slightest. He’s sure he’ll be sick of the word “beware” before the end of the night.

But it is and he’s not.

He agrees to another dinner, more to prove to himself that this would never come anywhere close to working. He doesn’t get nice things and these two are just so…ridiculous and it’s so different from how his entire life has been, one nitty-gritty moment after the next; dooming his soul for power and favors.

But they aren’t turned off by his life or his rude demeanor. They like him and they show it. Against all odds, they just work.

And to think it all started with the end of the world…

~•~

John hates when he’s the last call, the hail mary pass, for the end of the world. Most of the better options for solving problems take time to put together, which is something few on the Justice League seem to understand and even fewer (read: None) seem to remember when a big threat comes about.

Since it’s potentially the end of the world, what’s one more time selling his soul going to hurt?

Possibly a lot this time. The King of Restless Dead holds sway over those that fall in the in between. They are historically stronger than most demons and spirits and on par with most deities. And since it is a title one by conquest most of the time the one to take over the throne is more powerful than the previous holders.

Now John really isn’t all that keen on joining the King’s legions but like he’s mentioned previously, end of the world and all that.

It’s a fitting enough end for him, he thinks and he hopes that his planned contract doesn’t have any loopholes for the King to take advantage of. Loosing the King of Restless Dead, King of the Infinite, King of the space between worlds, upon Earth for them to wreck havoc would probably cause Batman to revive John just so he can kill him again.

So it’s with a heavy heart and skyrocketing blood pressure that John starts chanting the words to bring the King of Ghosts to Earth, this Earth here and now. He’s got to be specific. Every single word matters…

…

John doesn’t know what he was expecting. A terror of the night? A horrific figure or possibly some sort of Eldritch entity that nearly melts his brain with its very presence?

Not a teenager that’s for fucking certain.

He’s not…he’s not certain what exactly he’s seeing as a funky little girl with blue skin and pigtails hikes herself up to peek over the teen’s shoulder.

He opens his mouth, probably to spit out some snarky comment or another but something in the teen’s eyes stops him. Then the overwhelming power hits him with the full force of a speeding freight train.

His lungs are too tight, too full. He can’t breathe, he can’t even twitch a bloody muscle under those glowing toxic waste eyes. The teen tilts his head, assessing John, weighing his tattered and bloody soul.

“What do you want, Laughing Magician?”

And that’s a fucking title. The King has his fucking title in hand with just a glance at him. The teen is all seriousness despite the little girl floating up to rest her upper body on his head like being The King just means he’s a glorified babysitter. She’s unaffected by the roiling waves of power washing off of him and crashing into John repeatedly.

He swallows and chokes on it because his throat is suddenly too dry. He coughs a few times before sinking into a bow.

“Oh King of Restless Dead and all those trapped in between death and life, I came seeking your aid to save this world and its inhabitants.” He doesn’t dare look up no matter how crawly his skin feels or how the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

“Ohhhh. Oh yeah, I was keeping an eye on that but then Boxy asked me to babysit the tyke here. It’s that bad already?”

John has to fight every cell in his body not to look up at the King and give him a taste of the incredulous look on his face.

“We’ve lost several heroes already and countless civilians. Superman is stuck in recovery after an attack, he can’t be out there. Wonder Woman has a broken leg and Batman is no-“

“Okay, okay I get it.” He interrupts, “It’s bad. I’m on it. I just need one thing in return.”

“My soul?”

“Ewww no.” John finally does look up at that just to catch the genuine disguston the teen’s face. “I need you to watch little Boxy junior here while I take care of this. She’s too young for the battlefield.”

“But I’m not qualified to take ca-“

“Thanks!” The King plops the little ghost girl on John and she grabs onto him while he’s too shocked to respond. It’s a good thing she’s a ghost and can fly since it takes him entirely too long to wrap his arms securely around her.

She’s studying him furiously and seems to find him suitable since she eventually grins and introduces herself.

“I’m Box Lunch. Who are you?”

“John,” he answers and that’s all he planned to give her but she stared him down with her beady little red eyes, waiting. “John Constantine and as His Majesty said, I’m also sometimes called the Laughing Magician.”

“Ohhh, so you have lots of names like Danny does.”

“Danny?”

She sends him a flat look.

“You’re kinda slow aren’t you.” When he doesn’t respond she lets out a big sigh, something she definitely doesn’t actually need. “You call him King and use one of his titles but you don’t know who he is?”

Now that’s an answer. And an alarming one at that. Just how high in the ghostly courts are her parents that she can casually call the King by name?

“I uh…” he fumbles a moment for words. “News and info about your world doesn’t cross the veil to here very well.”

“Oh…” She says it like she didn’t realize that. “Oh yeah, that’s Danny’s world. I’ve never actually been to a living realm that wasn’t Danny’s.”

“Not even when you were alive? Or were you from His Majesty’s world?”

She levels that unimpressed look at him again before sighing the worlds biggest sigh. Highly entertaining coming from someone so young and so small.

“Come sit with me.” She floats to the floor and snags his hand to drag him down too. “I will teach you Silly Magician.”

He follows, not sure how to tell her no thanks without upsetting her, so he goes along with it.

~•~

By the time that The King in all his teenager glory popped back in, John and Box Lunch were snuggled into a nearby couch with John reading to her from a spell book (it’s the only thing he had on hand and he made sure to only read the kid safe parts to her).

And the rest is, as they say, history.

More accurately the continuation of John’s very very strange life but details, details.

#cursed casket offerings ship #magic lunch box ship #dpxdc #dcxdp #dpxdc week 2023 #rarepair #polyamory #polycule

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lizzieislife94x · 4 months

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Personal Trainer (e.o)

Lizzie needed a new personal trainer for endgame and you got the job

Lizzie x G!P reader

If you have a request drop me a message I do them right away 😇

Y/ns POV:

"Thats us done for today ladies you all done amazing ill see you next week" I say wiping my face as I finish teaching a group work out I need to take a breather my next client is due any minute I've been working with her for 2 months the one and only Elizabeth Olsen I couldn't believe when I got the job she's hilarious and always so nice and down to earth I'm snapped out of my thoughts as she walks over "good evening y/n" she says with a giggle

"ah miss Olsen good evening can you give me 2 minutes I need to run to the bathroom but I'll be back in no time" I laugh as she slaps my shoulder "omg gross y/n go hurry" she giggles as I go do a quick pee once I'm done I wash my hands and head back out to lizzie doing some stretches, I can't help but Stare at her ass fuck it's so perfect, no y/n snap out of it don't think like a sleazy man your better than that "oh your back I started to do some warm up stretches " she smiles looking at my eyeline fuck she caught me "ok let's get started let's do some warm ups 20 jumping Jack's let's go" I start doing them and lizzie follows my lead as she stands infront of me "9..10..11" I breath out fuck I should have wore tight shorts I can feel my dick swinging like there's no tomorrow "18..19...20" I stop and try to fix myself subtly, I need to change "great work lizzie I need to go change my shorts these are to baggy and annoying me " I lie "you can do some more jumping Jack's till I get back" as I turn to walk away she grabs my wrist "y/n I think you should keep them on I enjoy the view to much" I feel the heat rising to my face has she been checking out my dick, naughty girl "are you sure" I rub my neck and look at the floor

"yep it's one of my favourite parts about coming to train every week" she states with a sly smile "ok Olsen let's do some squats then lunges" after a 30 minute warm up and lots of well noticed attention on my dick I wipe my face and throw lizzie a clean towel "ok boxing gloves let's practice those right hooks " I get into position as lizzie goes to work she's improved a lot "well done lizzie you've came so far those hooks are lethal " I say genuinely proud of how far she's came "ok let's get you on the treadmill for 10 minutes to finish up" we head to the treadmill as she starts her run I sit and watch with my arms crossed fuck her ass bounces just right I feel a twitch in my Shorts no fuck no not here "um lizzie that was great for today ill see you next week I need to go to the bathroom have a great night" I say my goodbye and jog to the bathroom and head into a stall looking down at my dick "seriously dude looking at lizzies perfect ass jiggle and you wake up"

I mumble and hear a giggle from the other side of the door "glad I'm not the only one who looks" fuck its lizzie "shit I'm sorry lizzie" she just giggles "it's OK but can you come out here so I can talk to you and not a door" she says sweetly "I ahhh I can't right now lizzie I have a problem " I sigh leaning my head against the door "y/n you either open the door and come out or I come in" it sounds like she has a smirk I sigh in defeat and open the door as she comes in and locks it instantly looking down at my harden member "fuck" she almost moans out I can't help myself I hold her cheeks and crash my lips against hers pulling her flush against me in a heated kiss after a minute we break apart for air "I wanted to to do that for so long " she confesses running her hands down towards my dick i feel her pushing my shorts and boxers down and moan "if you don't want this just say" she whispers as she leans forward kissing my chest "I want this so fucking bad lizzie " she smirks and wraps her hand around my dick and starts to jack me off slowly "fuck you're so big baby, you're gonna wreck my pussy" she moans making me moan more I start to push her gym leggings down and cup her bare core, oh god she's soaking wet that is almost enough to make me bust "so fucking wet lizzie, is this all for me" I bite my lip and her hand works me faster and I insert my fingers into her dripping core "fuckk y/n all for you, shit that feels amazing"

I pick up my pace fingering her tight cunt, I slide my fingers out and suck them one by one locking eye contact and smirking "bend over princess " I state and she giggles bending over giving me the perfect view of her ass and pussy I get into position behind her and rub my member through her fold teasing her clit gently slapping it "fuck this is finally happening" she moans out as I slide my dick inside her slowly fuck she's so fucking tight and warm and dripping I need to compose myself or I'm gonna nut to quick, I slide in till all 8 inches disappear inside her "oh fuckkkkk y/n please fuck me" she whimpers I grip her hips and start to thrust slowly enjoying the feeling if her wrapped around my cock "mmh fuck so tight and wet lizzie, are you on the pill" I moan as I increase my thrusts snapping my hips back and forth "yes yes yesssss" she screams and I continue to thrust feeling lizzie cum all over my cock, I continue to thrust chasing my own high the sounds of her wet pussy being destroyed by cock is fucking glorious "fuckkk lizzie im" I breath out slamming in one final time shooting my load deep inside her waiting cunt as she cums around my dick again "gonna cum..." I breath out leaning forward kissing her back, I keep inside her for a minute before sliding out smirking at my cum dripping out of her cunt as she whimpers "fuck lizzie that was amazing" I say looking at her and we both giggle "now I think this work out should be added to our weekly work out " she says biting her lip "fuck definitely " i smirk watching her, after a few minutes we leave the bathroom and I walk her to her car "see you next week miss Olsen " I wink and walk back inside

AN: if you want anything message me requests I do them right away 😇word count is 1.3k hope you enjoy feedback welcome good or bad (i hope you guys enjoy these bc its 3am and ive been doing these for hours lmao its a lil more time consuming than i thought having to go over everything to highlight and bold everything that needs to be haha, show them some love please votes ect<3

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anonymoushouseplantfan · 1 year

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Meghan and Harry: Episode 1

Why?

Seriously, why?

Bet let’s start at the beginning. I live-blogged the documentary on my Notes app. I wasn’t originally going to post it because I’ve stopped blogging, but omg, this is truly, as Scobie would say, the endgame. Of course, it’s not the monarchy losing the game. It’s the Harkles, They’ve checkmated themselves.

This was a six-hour own goal. I knew it was going to end badly for them when I saw Sunshine Sachs dropped them. Without SS astroturfing positive coverage all over the place they were doomed anyway. However, the content of the documentary takes it beyond doom and into truly apocalyptic. I bet it has great ratings. It’s a complete train wreck.

[Edited after first liveblog: Netflix is calling it the most viewed documentary ever, but that’s misleading. It barely held on to The Crown’s audience which was its base number, and I doubt it will have the same staying power. Still, not a bad The Crown companion piece for Netflix.]

But let’s break it down.

Episode 1

Starting with shots in an airport lounge and a rented house looking like absolute crap is the weirdest branding idea I’ve ever heard of. They don’t look relatable. They look pathetic.

[I’m editing this after finishing their series and this opening is even more baffling now. Episode 5 covers their last week of royal engagements. First, that segment is a lot more glamorous and exciting than these sad-sack iPhone videos and they really should have opened with that. Second, Episode 5 shows they were elated and super excited after finishing those engagements. They loved the crowd reactions and the press coverage and were over-the-moon with happiness. These videos are supposedly shot after that and they are all sad and mopey and wondering “how they got here.” It’s a huge disconnect.]

The intro music screams “cheap YouTube production.” So does the stock photo montage. Oh, now it’s home movies…why? This resembles the video tab of a super-basic Facebook couple circa 2014. Netflix paid millions for this? I don’t think they got paid $100m, but I bet Netflix shelled out a tenth of that. They still overpaid.

[Actually, maybe they didn’t. The Crown cost $13 million per episode and they likely paid $10 mil for six episodes of Harry and Meghan which got the same audience.]

Now they are in a house (theirs? Victoria Jackson’s? Oprah’s?) that looks like a Restoration Hardware showroom and they look slightly less pathetic but also like they are in couples’ therapy. Oh, she did know who he was. What a shocker. Dimwit doesn’t seem to realize the implications. I wonder if the filmmaker is secretly mocking them.

[The house is a random rental that is now for sale so I wonder if they get a sales commission for the product placement. https://www.forbes.com/sites/emmareynolds/2022/12/20/montecito-home-where-prince-harry-and-meghan-markle-filmed-documentary-lists-for-335-million/?sh=3285e16b74fa]

My husband is watching with me. He was very confused by Meghan’s comment about how “when the stakes are so high” it makes sense to get the story from them. He doesn’t understand why the stakes are high. I told her Meghan is a narcissist and he didn’t believe me. He used to watch her on Suits and despite my best efforts still thinks she’s Rachel Zane. Anyway, he thinks the house looks like an expensive rehab clinic and now I can’t get that out of my mind. I think they are trying to look like the happy couples in When Harry Met Sally but it does feel like luxury drug rehab therapy full of Restoration Hardware furniture. He also asked me what was going on with Harry’s pupils in the airport lounge video. He thought that was weird. I tell him it's cocaine, but he thinks it's Xanax or something like that.

Montage. “They are destroying us.” “This has always been bigger than us.” Oh, please.

Montecito sunset. I guess this is their backyard? It looked better in the real estate photos. Meghan croons “isn’t it beautiful?” and Archie agrees. All I can think of is that these idiots used to live in freaking Windsor Park and now they have my grandma’s yard (complete with chicken coop and everything).

Walking with Archie. Harry mutters “this is a great love story” while pushing an empty newborn stroller (why? Where’s the baby? Is Meghan carrying the baby?). This is surreal.

Glamorous wedding shot (a melancholic reminder of past glories, frankly) and it turns into a closeup of Harry’s legs. Eew.

Meghan goes to the chicken coop. There’s a lot of cyclone fencing in this house.

Back to the Restoration Hardware Showroom. Meghan is in sweats because…I don’t know. Weird Instagram family pics including a sad little birthday party for Archie. Good lord, my kids had better parties than the King’s grandson. This is so pathetic.

Oh, no. She got the cheap Amazon patio furniture protectors. At least they match the cyclone fencing.

More family Instagram. They are protecting their kids…by putting them in a documentary?

Did I just see Harry’s underwear??!! Oh, how the mighty have fallen. Between the sale of family pics, the family drama, and the plumber’s crack, I’m starting to feel that Meghan married her dad.

Harry talks about consent with regards to his children…but they are too young to consent so it doesn’t really makes sense. Guess he thinks it’s only his consent that matters.

My husband asks if Harry is an addict. I suspect it’s partly his demeanor and partly the inconsistencies in the narrative. Meghan said she’d prefer Prince Harry, and that showed how little she knew about the royals? Media exposure requires consent, but your kids are in a documentary? Harry doesn’t seem to realize that these things make no sense.

I feel the way they structured these confessionals with an invisible interviewer was a big mistake. Oprah’s presence during that interview served to validate their shady claims. She has a lot of credibility so when she nodded and smiled people trusted that. It made their statements credible. Here they don’t have that and all the contradictions are apparent.

They’re in the yard. Meghan is trying to channel Martha Stewart and failing. Martha wouldn’t have cyclone fencing, Megs.

Meghan in sweats in the Restoration Hardware showroom. BIG expensive drug rehab vibes. I bet this is what all the rich women wear at the Betty Ford Clinic. She complains that other people write books about them and “wouldn’t it make sense to hear our story from us?” Actually, Megs it’s becoming painfully clear that the tabloids and royal biographers have made you two look a lot more interesting, glamorous and stylish than you really are. Left to your own devices you two are boring as dry toast.

Really cool shots of London. Whoa, the city looks great! They spent money on these. They probably should have spent that cash making California look good. London is their past and California is their future and so far their past looks a lot cooler and more glamorous than their future.

Tig Instagram pic montage. I wonder who was taking these? She should have rehired the photographer because the family pics she has now are terrible. These were much better. Her Tig life feels a lot more upscale and aspirational than her current Montecito existence which goes to show what good photography can do. LOL, she used the airport with the Ghurka suitcase. Yes, she didn’t know she was going to meet a prince and that’s why she traded in her Rowena for the luggage brand the princes are known to use.

Pics from what appears to be Harry’s private Instagram. Interesting—wait, the Insta rumor was real? What the? Good lord why would you admit that in a documentary???!! This is freaking surreal. Whyyyyy?”

[To those who don’t know. There was a rumor back in 2016 that Meghan was a designated Soho House “companion” and the girls were “advertised” through a private Insta account run by Marcus. If you liked a girl you could DM Marcus and get an introduction…which seems to be exactly what Harry did. I don’t understand why they would mention this in a a documentary. Everyone bought the Violet von Westerwhatever blind date story. They should have stuck to that.]

I wonder how the mainstream audience is reacting to the new instagram story. The original story got a lot of coverage and a critical mass of people may start to wonder what the heck is going on. Even my husband is skeptical and I don’t think he knew the blind date story.

BTW, the fact that she was following his account was known in Toronto as soon as the relationship story broke. Interesting.

“Friend” talking about Wimbledon. She’s actually Serena Williams agent so I’m not sure why she’s labeled as a friend. Wimbledon, blah, blah, blah. Lol, Again, Meghan’s old life appears a heck of a lot more glamorous than her current one. OMG, she told Serena’s agent she was going on a date with Harry??!! She was telling everyone wasn’t she?

Texting. She was posting all of this to Insta as it was happening which is absolutely hilarious. Actually, this whole documentary reminds of the early days of the relationship when she was posting everything on Insta and leaking stories to US Weekly constantly. They really wanted all of this material out there and waiting until they got paid for it probably took probably took enormous self discipline. Guess they took Doria's "don't give the milk away for free" advice to heart.

I just realized she’s wearing Trevor’s Cartier bracelet during her monologues and that cracks me up.

More cheap stock footage. Seriously, how much did Netflix pay for this? Endless chat about their first date, which is nowhere near as interesting as they seem to think it is. They should have stuck to the blind date story. It was slightly more interesting. Bad Soho House selfie.

Nacho shows up as a “friend” and he’s really Harry’s promo buddy. The Silver Tree person was also a Suits director. Everyone is a business contact in this documentary. All these white people in California resort wear are giving me White Lotus Season 3 vibes.

Baseball hat pics in a messy kitchen…these two are hellbent on shedding whatever royal glamour they had left. Wait, isn’t this an old picture from Toronto? Like real old, first year in Toronto kind of old. What a weird choice.

“Marry someone who fits the mould instead of someone you are destined to be with” followed by a pic of Megs trying to look sexy in a wifebeater shirt. Does the director secretly hate them? He was born in a palace but he had a trailer park heart…she was a tacky actress from the wrong side of the tracks…they were destined to be together selling family pics to the tabloids just like dad…it’s a family traditioooooooon….

Old royal footage…Diana…Charles…childhood photocalls, which Harry seems to resent, but he’s doing the same to his kids in this documentary, so I really don’t understand what he’s thinking. The Diana footage is a big misstep because wow Di was charismatic and these two losers can’t hold a candle to her.

Thirteen whole minutes of archival footage, most of it stuff his parents “consented” to, and lots of whining about press intrusion. Dude, you’re in a reality show. You’re putting your kids on television. Know where you stand.

Then a slew of private couple pics that they really should have kept private. Love the wallpaper. Bet that was Frogmore. The documentary is rather disorienting. I can’t tell what house they are in or when the pictures were taken.

Boom. “So much of what Meghan is and how she is is so similar to my mom.” My husband actually rewinds this part to make sure he heard right. Pic of Diana with her kids in the garden and then another pic of Meghan with her kids in the garden. Very similar gardens. Not so similar women.

“He wanted to marry his mom?” my husband asks.

Cringe video of Archie with a Diana photo. “I didn’t want history to repeat itself,” Harry says.

“He did want to marry his mom,” my husband says, amazed. “So he can save her this time.” Shaking his head. “This is nuts but it’s television gold. Did the brother marry his mummy too?”

“No,” I said.

“And the brother is the one who gets to be king, right?”

“Yes.”

“That’s good.”

More monologue about their courtship. Lol, they really did leak the handholding painting to the press. Footage comparing Megs to Di and it’s painfully obvious she’s nowhere near as charismatic.

Diana’s death and more archival footage. This documentary is a humongous downer, isn’t it? Childhood friend of Harry’s I’d never heard about. Was he invited to the wedding? I don't think so. Strong White Lotus vibes coming from this guy.

Diana’s funeral. Harry’s drug scandal. Hellraiser Harry. Bitching about paparazzi. No mention of Vegas, which is weird. You’d think that would be the big traumatic story about media intrusion. I guess he only wants to blame the UK media and Vegas was a TMZ story in the states and the UK media wasn’t allowed to print the pictures so it doesn't fit his narrative.

More whining about royal photocalls…except for the Lesotho photo ops which Harry didn’t seem to mind. Bit of a disconnect there because those were royal pr as well. In fact, it was the way the royals rehabilitated his image after the drug scandal. Seems like Harry only hates the royal pr he can’t personally monetize. Why isn’t Sentenbale getting a shout out? You’d think he would plug the charity here (Audi, Soho House, and JP Morgan got very obvious brand placements) but if he did I missed it. [Edited: Should have added the house to the list of product placements]

LOL, Prince Seesio straight out says that the Lesotho vacation was a response to the bad press in the UK. They should have briefed him better. I don’t think he was supposed to say that.

Botswana vacay with Meghan. Wow, the Daily Mail made this look a lot more glamorous than it actually was. This wasn’t exactly glamping, was it? Were there showers? No, best to not go there. No charities are mentioned. No mention of the “love” bracelets, just a Daily Mail article shot.

More whining about press intrusion then private Halloween pics that really should have stayed private. Lol, they went to a party with Eugenie after the relationship was leaked. Tell me you leaked the relationship without telling me you leaked the relationship. I bet Meghan wanted to post this on her Insta and Jason didn’t let her. I wish they’d let her. The press reaction to the Call of Duty costume would have been epic.

Harry doesn’t seem to be catching on. If you were in disguise and no one knew you went to this party except Meghan, Jack and Eugenie, then who exactly leaked it, Harry? Because we knew about it a day later.

That’s a Toronto newspaper, the same one that had the leak about Meghan following Harry’s private account. At the time the evil British tabloids were actually under the impression Harry was still in England and had cancelled a trip to visit Toronto.

The other outlet who got the scoop early was our old friend US Weekly, and the byline was by a then-unknown gossip hack called Omid Scobie. Given what we know now about their relationship with Scobie. Yep, I think these two just confessed to leaking stories about their own relationship.

The DM had to quote the Toronto paper and US Weekly when they finally broke the story on the other side of the pond.

Interesting that Meghan and Harry’s “new and improved super real love story” is the one that was being leaked in Toronto and not the one that the evil UK tabloids had supposedly uncovered through nefarious means. I don’t understand why they are changing the story, though. The blind date wasn’t a tabloid rumor. It’s what they themselves said during a BBC interview.

End of episode. Overall, I feel this was a huge missed opportunity. Not much about his work in Africa or her UN/One Young World work. We hear about Harry’s photography but barely see it. It’s their chance to tell their story and their story is “we’re boring and tacky people who sell pics of their kids.” I feel they really wanted to put the “real” story of how they met out there—the IG dog pic, the Call of Duty costume, the crappy Soho House selfie. It reminds me of her old Working Actress blog where she was constantly stressing how unglamorous acting life really was.

I’m not blown away by the quality either. Their home movies feel cheap and curiously inauthentic. They should have run everything through a filter to make it feel coherent and cohesive. The stock/archival footage is sometimes great (London and the royal family), sometimes cheap (Soho House), sometimes missing (California), and sometimes misleading (pap shots of Chelsy, Cressida and Kate that are narrated as though Meghan was the victim).

The documentary lacks the authoritative tone most documentaries have. You really feel it’s “their” side of the story and not the “real” story. I think the problem is how they switch from the couples’ personal narrative, confessionals, and personal pics into historical pictures and public royal narratives. The institutional credibility of the royal shots makes the personal material feel biased and unreliable. The videos of Charles and the kids interacting with photographers, in particular are massive own goals because they remind the viewers that everything, including Meghan and Harry’s pictures and videos, includes invisible photographers. It’s just that the Harkles are hiding that from us, whereas the royals are upfront about it. The confessionals in the rehab setting, in particular, were huge mistakes, imo. They feel like reality show confessionals (like the ones the Housewives franchise uses) and viewers are trained to see those as unreliable narrations. Using someone else's house was also a bad idea. It feels fake.

The whole thing feels very chaotic and unconvincing. My husband thinks they are both addicts and I remember thinking that when they first started doing their beanie hat appearances. I ask him why and he cites the dilated pupils, contradictory narratives, family resentments and couch-surfing at other people’s housing. He says it’s standard junkie drama.

Other family members are watching and most of the group chat (lawyers and social workers) reaches the same conclusion: even the royals have junkie kid drama. The social worker says she has tons of clients like Meghan and the all sound the same. “They’re trying to destroy us.” “It’s a great love story.” “I don’t know how we ended up here.” “What happened.” They are all more interested in having their side of the story validated than in actually fixing the problem and they just repeat the same family dynamics over and over again. That’s why Harry is showing us pics of his kids in the house/garden/vacation right after complaining that his parents showed the world pictures of him, his bother, and his cousins in the house/garden/vacation. She noticed that he posted a pic of himself in military gear (the Halloween pic) as an adult and a similar one of himself a kid. He also posted skiing pics with the royals and then similar pics in the sand in California. She’s says he’s basically re-living his childhood and trying to get it right this time.

I didn’t expect many people in my family would be interested in this, but they are all having fun psychoanalyzing these two. Everyone thinks this is Harry rewriting his past so he gets to save his mum this time. Meghan’s motivations are less clear. No one believes she didn’t know who he was. The psychologist says it’s weird that Meghan’s side of the love story was just “it was exciting…we just got to know each other….” Her motivation is not that clear, although there was that one story about wanting to be protected from the elephants in the tent. Opinion is split with half the chat thinking she wanted to be rescued by Prince Charming and the other half (the psychologists and social workers) thinking that as an actress her fantasy would be A Star is Born. The psychologist says those two are not that different. In the Prince Charming fantasy you get rescued by an individual and in the Star is Born fantasy you are rescued by an institution, i.e., the studio or Hollywood. She thinks her fantasy was A Star is Born and that’s why she’s so resentful now. I think we’d discussed that in the blog before. Interesting to hear someone else saying it. Meghan didn’t want a love story where she was rescued by Harry, she wanted a Hollywood success story where she was acclaimed as a star by the palace. She didn’t get that and that’s why she’s still upset even though she got the Prince Charming love story. That’s not what she wanted. Harry got the fantasy he wanted, so he’s not as upset.

Not much support for the theory (mine) that she was manipulating him consciously. Everyone seems to think it’s a case of two mental illnesses falling in love, along with junkie drama. That’s why Harry is so amazed at their “fantastic love story.” He wanted to marry his mum and she wanted to be his mum. That’s a pretty unlikely combination.

I’m very curious about the “friends” featured in this episode. No Jess, no Markus, no Misha Nonoo, no one from the Suits cast except Abigail Spencer, and no Janina. Everyone seems to be a business partner of some sort. Cory was missing also, but it makes sense that she wouldn’t mention him. Reitman’s wasn’t mentioned either but I guess she doesn’t want to give them press.

I don’t understand why they didn’t lean into the charity work angle. She was doing One Young World and he was working Africa. Her "You can be Both" essay wasn't mentioned either and I feel they should have led with that instead of going with her “single girl trip” and the not-so-glam Botswana vacation. I also don’t understand why we didn’t see more of Harry’s supposedly amazing wildlife photography. After all, they are trying to build a career as documentary producers. You’d think that would be relevant. The big takeaways from this episode are: Meghan is mummy and I saw history repeating itself so I had to save her. “Save Mummy” seems like a weird narrative to craft a brand around, but my husband is right. It’s television gold.

On to the next episode.

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streaminn · 8 months

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Military School AU

Wednesday gets (semi) seriously hurt in a challenge/Event and Addams' will fight to death (or just literally unable to continue) and Enid has a flashback to the night with the Hyde and her mind goes blank besides protecting Wednesday.

That's how the Nightshades/Wednesday realize Enid doesn't actually hate them/was just hurt and bitter. And how Enid's Pack realizes just how important Wednesday is to their Alpha/realize Enid Imprinted on Wednesday.

Or, Wednesday comes into contact with one of the Pack (handshake, combat, whatever), and has a vision of what Enid's been going through/feeling and how the Pack has been helping/taking care of her. And to everyone's surprise, Wednesday looks absolutely wrecked (but is trying hard not to show it), and gives them her gratitude and thanks for caring for her Wolf when she wasn't there (no matter how much she wanted to be).

[Sorry if this reads weird, I'm typing this in the car on my phone.]

its all good bud! sorry for answering this so late, my ass desperately tried to draw this but my hand is not handing today so lemme set the scene

Incoming huge werewolf lore dump!

Grimwolves are emotional beings. Any overwhelming emotion can lead to a partial shift! from the growing of teeth, a sudden burst of a werewolf paw or the shifting and dislocating of bones to a bigger form-

you can say its part of the reason why enid is so cold. During her time during her 'slump' in the 2nd semester of her sophomore year when the pack all settle into the dorm, there are times where they can see Enid desperately clenching her fists before slipping on her bracers.

Sometimes, when they wake up early enough to catch sight of Enid without them, they can see the way the muscles in her arms twitch and shift before settling.

They keep their mouth shut, all too aware of the fact that enid wears her muzzle during classes too. They aren't really dumb, they know of how Enid got her alpha rank after all but there's a difference between hearing and seeing

Sometimes, during the end of the semester when Enid seems to be coping all the more better and the muzzle wasn't such a need anymore, they can see the way she tends to pant with her mouth open at times. It wasn't anything new, most werewolves do that too at times

But it gives them an eyeful of the way too big teeth that most werewolves don't have

(aka enid still tends to get overwhelmed at times and having the ability to shift whenever isn't as much as a blessing like most think)

so! the pack are aware that enid's different. They don't know the exact name and she's a bit too big for her size whenever its time for monthly shifting but they never see her fully shift in distress

And that changes alot.

So as explained briefly here, werewolves have the whole day to get ready for their shift in the night. Which means that they don't tend to be too aggressive, theyre a touch more rational and their body can properly regulate all that wolf magic hormone stuff

Which leads to them looking more wolf than man. Which was a good thing! Makes it easier to blend in with the normies of back then

But grimwolves?

Their shifts are sudden and there is no period to get ready. It's just snap and you're a wolf but normal werewolves aren't made for that and so the body accommodates

So most of the time, it leads to the image above! Grimwolves were rampant back then along with violence so it spread to normies that these were how werewolves are supposed to look like and thus reinforcing their monstrous nature etc etc you get the point

Obviously it's been disproven by outcasts and grimwolves are totally myths

Now, imagine being in a tournament fully expecting to be able to beat a bunch of trained dogs because hey its not like it's the full moon, what can they do?

They already took down the Addams girl and her flowery friends, what's wrong with besting those smug mutts too?

Anyways I suck at words rn but enid beats their ass. She's been trying to control her shifting since her second semester last year but honestly, Wednesday has always lead to her doing the craziest of things

Revealing her existence on live was certainly not one she expected to do but if it meant keeping Wednesday alive-

Well, it wouldn't be the worst thing Enid has done

#Reference #Military school au #My art #rendered

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deanstead · 1 year

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Hate Fighting

Pairing: Adam Ruzek x Reader

Requested: yes, by @adamruz

Summary: When words get a little harsh between you and Adam, things get more than a little awkward.

Square Filled: Fight that ends in a kiss for #resa.3kfiestabingo

Word Count: 846

Warnings: idiots in love

A/N: Thank you for requesting and helping me to fulfil a square hehe. I hope you like this!

ADAM RUZEK MASTERLIST

"It’s none of your business anyway!”

The words echoed in your mind long after he’d said it. You could tell he regretted them the moment they’d left his lips but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. So you’d turned away before he could see the tears pool in your eyes and you’d walked away.

Away from the district and away from Adam. Both literally and figuratively.

That was the last conversation that you had had with Adam for a week. You didn’t even remember what had started the fight, all you knew was that it had had something to do with Adam rushing immediately headlong into unnecessary danger. You knew Adam was kind of right. It was none of your business - you were just a friend.

The word banged against your skull and you gritted your teeth. The truth really did hurt.

So for the past week you hadn’t spoken. But it wasn’t all on Adam, especially since you’d been avoiding the places Adam normally showed up at. Adam hadn’t called either so it had been awkward when you’d stopped by Molly’s to pass Stella some stuff and had almost run into Adam on your way out.

So close.

You’d been confident about avoiding him and you had an entire game plan. A game plan that was now lost as you found yourself face to face with Adam after a week of not seeing or talking to him, the longest ever since the both of you had become friends.

Adam opened his mouth but you didn’t feel up to fighting again and you were also afraid of what he was going to say so you pulled your eyes away from his, looking away. Stuffing your hands into your pockets, you slipped past him at a half-jog, without acknowledging his presence, letting your legs take you out of there as fast as they could.

Even after you’d gotten back to your apartment, you kept replaying everything in your head once again - from the fight from a week ago, every decision since then that was somehow related to Adam, and then back to what had just happened in front of Molly’s about 20 minutes ago.

You sighed as you plopped yourself down on your couch. This was a train wreck.

Before you could retreat any further into your thoughts, there was a rap at the door. Figuring it was with Stella or Sylvie coming to check on you, you’d gotten up and you were already speaking as you opened the door. “I told you guys, I’m fi…ne.”

The sentence ended awkwardly as you blinked back at your friend, the one you were in love with. Adam Ruzek.

You didn’t say anything for a minute, a small frown just settling on your face.

“Can we talk?”

His voice was calm and steady but before your brain had made up its mind, your body was already habitually moving backwards to let him in.

Adam stepped in and you closed the door without saying anything, glancing back at him.

“So what, you not going to talk to me ever again?” Adam asked, but you could hear the tone in his voice was no longer as harsh as it had been since the last time you'd spoken.

You looked up at him and shrugged. “Keeping my nose out of things. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

Adam didn’t respond, just looked back at you.

“No, seriously, Adam what do you want from me? You want me to not care? Well, tough shit, I can’t do that. I’m either in, or I’m out. There’s no in between.” You took a breath, realizing you were teetering on a rant. “I get it, Adam. We’re just friends, but I can’t just stop caring so if you can’t handle that then…”

Your voice trailed off as Adam took all of three steps towards you, taking your face gently with one hand and pressing his lips hastily against yours.

You felt your resolve break, along with the surprise that jolted through your body. But it was soon overtaken by the screaming realization that Adam Ruzek was kissing you. You were kissing Adam. Adam and you.

Adam gently pulled back before the kiss got any deeper, looking straight into your eyes.

You took a breath, blinking back at him.

“Don’t walk past me like you don’t know me. Don’t. I need you in.” Adam said, his voice low.

You cracked a small smile. “Even if I poke my nose where it doesn’t belong?”

Adam exhaled audibly. “If I ever say something like that ever again, you can smack me or get Kevin to kick my ass.” He paused before he continued. “I didn’t mean what I said. My business will always be yours. I want it to be yours.”

“So we’re done fighting? Fight’s over?” You asked quietly.

Adam nodded, although he watched you for a reaction. “I hate fighting with you.”

“Good, because I wasn’t done.” You answered reaching forward for the collar of his shirt and pulling him back towards you to finish what he'd started.

THANK YOU FOR READING!! PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THOUGHT OF THIS!!

If you want to support me, buy me a coffee!

Character taglists are open!

#resa.fics #resa.3kfiestabingo #resanoona request #adam ruzek #adam ruzek x reader #adam ruzek oneshot #adam ruzek imagine #adam ruzek fanfic #adam ruzek fic #adam ruzek x you #adam ruzek x y/n #chicago pd #chicago pd x reader #chicago pd fic #chicago pd imagine #chicago pd oneshot

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kazylgon · 13 days

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Today i finished running an adventure for some friends in the Heart: The City Beneath roleplaying game, which was an absolute wild ride from start to finish.

First of all, the system fucking SLAPS, and if you like lightweight systems which still enable honestly a lot of tension, your character suffering a LOT like seriously your little guy is going to have such a bad time, tragedy, horror, and tragic horror you should give it a go.

But Oh Boy, the shenanigans which were got up to. Extended summary below but this barely scratches the surface of everything that happened and the context for it all so if you're curious or what to know more about the system or setting send and ask or message me because I'd love to provide more context.

Our cast consists of Horizon, a mage, addicted to magic, microdosing on corruption, desperately trying to find a cure for the affliction of feebleness plaguing their entire race. Shay, a walking corpse who came back wrong, with the whispers of their possibly dead girlfriend in their brain urging them to delve greedier and deeper. And Zaktan, a surgeon made of wasps, seeking to impose perfect order on the world.

They travelled deep beneath the ground, all seeking some elusive, vague font of power, capable of granting whoever finds it whatever their soul desires, called The Heart.

The very first settlement they came across quickly disappeared, drowned by waterlogged corpses spewing salt water from their mouths. Horizon accidentally opened their soul up to the master of these creatures with a particularly unlucky roll, and left them retching up salt water for a brief moment before everyone could escape to the Temple of the Moon.

Here they meet the high priestess Airelle, who apparently can't die, because she's the moon's favourite. She tells them that the walking corpses are vassals of the Drowned Queen, a deep god of everything beneath the water, including drowned corpses. She tells them that if they fetch a collection of runes from deeper down, she can perform a ritual to banish the queen and save all the nearby settlements that she's trying to drown. She'll offer a reward, of course, but Zaktan doesn't trust her one bit, and refuses her offer to he can break into her room to snoop around instead.

The first step on this quest is to sneak through a junkyard filled with cultists obsessed with death. Here they find a beast of metal and Heartflesh. Shay frees it, as the voice in their head encouraged them to do, devours some of its flesh, and in its gratitude it devours some of the cultists in their way.

The next destination is an ancient train station with vibrating crystals hanging from the ceiling, threatening to fall if any loud noise shakes them free. Here Zaktan becomes fascinated with the wreck of a magical train, being studied by Knights of the Rail, Horizon seeks treatment from the knight's surgeon (nasty little goblin who thinks Horizon's entire race are a lost cause because of the curse of feebleness they bear), and Shay immediately sets about collapsing the ceiling of the place to break the floor and open a tunnel deeper. This frees an angel of convulsing, raw flesh and sinew which proceeds to destroy the entire station, forcing the group to flee.

The group accepts Shay's actions after they calmly explain themselves.

Just kidding Zaktan slices Shay's face off. Shay doesn't care in the slightest because they brought the love of the Heart to the station and everyone in it.

From here it's a straight shot down to the sanctum of the mages keeping the protective runes.

Just kidding again. The Drowned Queen has taken up residence here. In person. All ten feet of her perfect, pristine, divine body, clad in jellyfish and kelp. The whole area is flooded, but Horizon, having opened up their soul to her (accidentally, but she's so lonely she doesn't realise that) and so sweet talks into letting them explore the tower. They find a vault at the base, with the runes inside, along with a victim of the mage's experiments: a person having been infused with the magic of the Heart and turned into a strange, warped creature of warping flesh. Shay free it, it attacks Horizon, and Zaktan does literally nothing to help until Horizon misses a spell to defend themselves and accidentally hits Zaktan, exposing the fact that Horizon is capable of drawing on the Drowned Queen's power.

This doesn't go down well with Zaktan, who has been shaken by an unlucky roll and is now deeply terrified of the queen, despite his disdain for all things godly. He insists on Horizon telling him exactly what is going on, and the two do so, over a completely amicable exchange of notes which doesn't result in any more faces being sliced off.

They all rest here, and Horizon is unnerved by the Queen watching them with a burning intensity the entire time.

On the way back up, with the runes in hand, they encounter a Knight of the Rail, the only survivor of what Shay did to the station. The knight attempts to bombard with with his cannon, but Shay practically skips up to him, and shoves him into the netherworld with naught but a boop on the nose.

Getting back through the station isn't as easy, as the angel has transformed into a massive tree of meat and pulsing veins, supporting the ceiling while its roots writhe across the floor seeking flesh to devour. Shay doesn't care and just walks through, the tendrils seemingly ignoring them. Zaktan and Horizon are less lucky, and Zaktan loses his notebook, his most prized possession, becoming convinced that Horizon stole it when exchanging notes. Horizon would have made it through fine, if they weren't distracted by the desire to collect a sample, which leads them stranded, surrounded, blood from the weird angel flesh tree right in their eyes, and needing to be rescued by Shay.

Back through the junkyard, they confront the bishop leading the death cult. He reveals that he and Airelle came here together, before she betrayed and abandoned him. Shay then suplexes him off of the raised platform of his throne, Zaktan injects him with a sample of a horrid virus, and Horizon calls upon the power of the queen once more to drown him.

This clears the final obstacle back to the temple where they can begin the ritual to banish the queen. Zaktan refuses to give up the runes unless he is the one to perform the ritual however, even though it draws on the power of the moon goddess. He's convinced he knows her better than one of her high priestesses, and he's convinced said high priestess is keeping something from him. Shay mans the barricades to keep the queen and her vassals out when she inevitably attacks, and Horizon...is conflicted.

The queen does indeed attack. Her form has changed. She now resembles a drowned corpse clad in a rotting, waterlogged gown, hollow eye sockets filled with nothing but worms and small crustaceans picking at the flesh, suspended in the air by a fleshy tendril connected to some massive creature concealed in the tunnel behind her. She blows past Shay, angered that this group promised to spread her influence only to turn on her, slaughtering everything in her wake. Until Horizon rolls ridiculously well on a roll to distract her, approaches her, kisses her...giving just enough time to Zaktan to finish the ritual to banish her.

She looks at Horizon, not angry. Just sad, and betrayed. She could have given them everything, she says, moments before being yanked back down into the deep.

The group were heroes. The people living in and around the temple celebrate.

Zaktan however, heads upstairs to Airelle's room and murders her, searching for the secrets she was keeping. He doesn't get much though, not even a scream or a struggle, just a cryptic message that "She's really not going to like that, you know."

And that ends the pre-written adventure that all of this came from. Next few sessions are going to be off the edge of the map and I am so disgustingly excited as to what horrors this lot are going to get themselves into next.

#wordswords #chewing dice #seriously this barely even scratches the surface of everything that happen #and all the extended context which made it all extra juicy #if anyone wants more details please ask because oh boy do i want to share

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nobody-for-sure · 2 years

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Language Barrier (Important Notes)

First of all, this is NOT a chapter/story update. HOWEVER, I do strongly encourage readers of my fic to take a moment to read through this, because there are a few things I wanted to address (nothing too serious for the most part, but y’know). It’s been out and linked on the masterlist for a while now; but as it’s not one of the chapters, I’m not sure how many people will find it. Therefore, I’ve linked it in a couple chapters as well, so it’s harder to overlook. So here we go.

First, I hadn't specifically stated this on Tumblr yet, but if you've checked the AO3 tags, you'll know that from the beginning, this was intended to be AFAB reader. The reader is/will be referred to with they/them pronouns, as well as Your/Their Grace; if you see anything else please let me know since this isn’t beta’d. Reader’s appearance is not discussed, and there is no sexual content in which the reader’s genitalia would be important (well, there’s no sexual content, period). However, there will be a time in which their AFAB status becomes important/obvious. If that doesn't bother you, please continue.

Second, there’s been people working on this from the beginning, but more and more readers have successfully cracked the code in terms of the languages the characters in the fic are speaking.

Frankly, I am incredibly pleased that there are people so invested in my work that they actively take the time to figure out things like this. But, with that said... if you do figure it out, pleeeease let the rest of my readers figure it out on their own; I would prefer not to have translations circulating. It's an extra (but ultimately not necessary) layer of story intended for the people who were invested enough to crack it. (In layman’s terms: if I have to suffer, so do you. :D) To anybody that works it out: I love to see your reactions to what I wrote, even (maybe especially) the translated parts, but shhhhh. To anybody that’s too lazy, thinks they’re not smart enough, or just has a life (can’t be me): I do plan to reveal my methods for you all at the end of the fic, but the people who just can’t wait that long have to figure it out for themselves. Overall, I don't expect to have any major issues since I know most readers are and/or will be respectful of this moving forward, but just bear in mind that I put a fair amount of effort into not only making actual dialogue but also going to the trouble of coding it, and I'm absolutely petty enough to make it actual gibberish if I want to.

Third, for those of you who are wondering: yes, the interludes are important; they’re not just an excuse to make a bad chat fic or a random OC. They will tie in, so do pay attention to each interaction. Seeds have been planted.

Finally, this story has been more popular than I expected, so a big thanks to everyone who reads and enjoys it, and bigger thanks to everyone who shares their thoughts on it via reblogs or comments (or even dms) because I eat those for breakfast. Seriously, it’s so helpful (and rewarding) to see what people like about your work. Anyways, I am taking requests to be added to the tag list for my fic at this time. HOWEVER, I will ONLY be accepting requests to add people to the list in the comments HERE, as people who haven't read this post and its siblings (found here and here) are not qualified to be added. (Of course, I encourage people to read them anyway, since there have been issues.)

That's all for now! Once again, I’m glad that so many people enjoy my writing, and I hope that you stick with me through this absolute train wreck of a piece, because believe me when I tell you I have plans. And you guys can’t even understand half of what’s going on. Seriously, what are you all thinking, getting invested in this. God I love you all. Okay goodbye.

#lbbynfs

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rainofaugustsith · 2 years

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So I've seen a few articles now about how Disney is conducting focus groups to find out why their Star Wars Galactic Cruiser hotel is not doing what they expected. It should be obvious, Disney. Seriously. Since it needs to be spelled out however:

Um, Captain Obvious? The price. (please note I am not condoning spending money at any Disney cruise or property; I'm just pointing out the value for the dollar part. If I had $4000 at my disposal right now and it was safe and feasible to use it on travel, yeah, I would be off in Italy or something).

Whatever demographic Disney intended for this hotel, I don't think it's the average Star Wars fan. The rates - which were discriminatory toward single travelers - started at just over $4000 for a party of two for two nights. Yes, food was included, but even at Disney prices, come on. And for that money you're staying in a small, windowless room where some beds are bunk beds.

Even by Disney standards this is ridiculous. For the same price as a two night stay in this hotel, a friend and I could go on a seven day Disney cruise in the Mediterranean or up to the fjords in Norway, during which we'd have some Star Wars content. Hell, for that amount we could probably spend a few days in Japan or Hong Kong going to the Disney parks there. We could go to Tunisia and see where they actually filmed some of the Tatooine scenes.

Spending that much money to role play for two days in a closed off hotel in Florida? Not exactly as appealing as any of those. They assumed that hardcore Star Wars fans would pay any price for this experience, and um, yeah, not so much.

Not to mention, um, Disney? Pandemic, inflation, rising housing, food and fuel costs? People truly struggling to make ends meet? Any of that ring a bell? Yeah, when I'm struggling to pay my rent and gas costs $6/gallon, the first thing I'm going to do is travel to Florida and plunk down $4000+ to play make believe for two nights.

"Help the Rebellion defeat the First Order…"

Okay, let me stop you there. Which Disney Star Wars properties have been well thought of - or at least continued - over the past ten years? Clone Wars. Bad Batch. Kenobi. The Mandalorian. Rogue One. Doctor Aphra. Know what they all have in common? Th are nowhere near the fucking train wreck of the sequels, with its "ohhh the bad guys BLEED THE CRYSTALS" AND Kyle Ron and other assorted bullshit. Mandalorian comes closest because it's set after RoTJ, but even there you've been clever enough to set it at a time period that is obviously well before the sequels.

And what's the common thread in most of these properties? Characters people fucking liked from the original canon, like Luke Skywalker, Vader, Boba Fett, Ahsoka, hell, even Bib Fortuna, mixed in with new characters that are extremely compelling like Reva, Fennec, Aphra and Grogu.

Yes, I know some people do like the sequels and that Disney canon but I think a fair number of Star Wars fans are still sitting here looking at how badly the sequels were written, how they completely wasted the wonderful actors and characters that they had like Finn, Rey, Poe, Rose and even BB-8, and how in order to accomplish that they threw away decades of established extended universe content. They completely threw away characters like Mara Jade, Jacen Solo and Jaina Solo so we could watch some emo fuck whine at a burned up old helmet (in the EU, the ghost of Anakin would have kicked his ass SO HARD for that) as he toddled his way through a plot that recycled parts of ANH but in the worst ways possible. I'm still reeling from how Disney took canon that was established for decades like the way crystals are colored and decide it needed to be that much edgier - we're going to tell you that instead of an artificial crystal that is more unstable, or one you've attuned, noooo, those red crystals are now BLEEDING, and oh, light side crystals won't use the dark side (which is of course how Anakin managed to carry out several massacres with his own blue lightsaber and just replaced it because Kenobi took it away, of course. Shhhh!).

Bottom line? No, I don't want to go on a Rebellion/First Ordear adventure. Ever. I want to stay SO fucking far away from that shit that it never even enters my Star Wars consciousness. As far as I am concerned it doesn't exist and Luke is off somewhere, happily married to Mara Jade. I certainly wouldn't want to pay $4000 for the privilege of immersing myself in that timeline for two days.

It should have just been a hotel.

Make the same hotel. Use the same actors. Every person you interact with there, from the housekeeping service to the receptionists, is in Star Wars character. Have a restaurant and bar with Star Wars things, maybe a character dinner a la Goofy's Kitchen or breakfast with the princesses. Have regular shuttles to Disney World. Price it reasonably, and Disney, 'reasonably' is not $4000. Leave out all the "going on a mission" stuff. Make the time period obscure. I'm sure people would have opted to stay there.

It's in Florida.

Yes, I know a lot of good people live in Florida and I'm not trying to besmirch them. But as a queer non-Christian woman I honestly don't feel safe traveling or being in Florida at this time, so even if that hotel was priced at $1/night I wouldn't go to it.

#Star Wars #Star Wars critical #Disney critical #anti Kylo Ren

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randomreadingtimewithtsuki · 1 year

Note

Hi I'm here to do the previous request scenario about obana danjiro and the giving birth reader, but can you include furuoki, chika and chikiri too?? I will be very grateful if you make it for me!

Hello! Thank you for requesting!!

I hope this is of your liking please let me know what you think!

Tsuki's note: I only wrote for Chika because this would get too long if it was everyone... anyway!

Female! Reader

TW: Pregnancy? Child birth?

When you told Chika you were going to be parents he was surprised and shocked at first.

Not shocked like " how" but shocked as in " holy crab I am a dad now?"

He stayed confused for a good awhile. Until you giggle at his slow blinks.

That was enough to pull him out of his daze and have his cheeks burn slightly.

He smiled, lifted you and thwirled you around!!

At first he was worried about you but nothing too overwhelming, just making sure you ate, had water, that you didn't made too effort and things like that.

As time went by and your bump started to show, he became glued to your belly.

Always a hand on it, laying down on your lap, talking to them, you name it!

It was very endearing to watch the oh, so fearsome captain drooling over you like that.

But Chika also started to become more protective.

A few weeks passed by and now you were visibly pregnant.

You needed new clothes and he took you out to shop.

Always close to you, hand on your waist and sometimes on your stomach.

Whenever someone stopped to chat with you he would watch them. It was uncomfortable for the people to say the least, but he didn't dare to take his eyes away from you.

Needless to say he became overprotective, right?

At night he kissed you and your stomach good night. You giggled at how sweet it was and in turn it made him smile against your skin.

It was also during this time he started to panic a bit.

Would he be a good dad? Nope, he didn't think so.

He tried to hold this insecurity from you, but... you soon noticed he seemed a bit off.

He shyly admitted being worried about parenting - who would want their parents to be a fearsome captain?

He truly believed you would excel in being a mom - even though you were a nervous train wreck yourself.

You tried your best to reassure him - he is a very affectionate person, he is good a teaching and he would keep the baby safe.

It helped him a bit, but... he was still scared.

So you decided to go for what he usually does " well, then, you say so yourself, if you are scared go head first and it won't look as scary. I will be here too to help you so..."

He laughed at your words. Its true he told you that many times.

You could see the relief on his features. You gave him the push he needed!

When the baby started kicking he was ecstatic.

Excitedly pointing it out for you that the baby moved - absolutely adorable to see his eyes shining and smile appearing wide and bright.

At this point, you couldn't walk around alone anymore. You joked with him you were pregnant, not dying.

He laughed and flicked your forehead " you two are more precious than anything in this world and you are mine and mine alone"

Your cheeks burned.

He didn't really mind having a boy or a girl. He did have names on his head.

Before going to bed, you two would discuss the names.

He took it quite seriously.

When the due date came around, he wasn't in the house.

He was gving some training to his squad.

As soon as he the 4th squad got to him the news, he was gone in a blink.

He stayed with you through the birth, holding your hand, sometimes whispering reassuring words and drying your forehead.

When the baby was finally born he didn't know if he should hold them or you - as you gave the last push you relaxed and fell back on the bed.

In the end, Chika was only allowed to hold your baby after you held them.

He had a very soft expression watching you too. He was took this opportunity to thank you for your hard work.

At first he was overprotective of the baby and you, but with time he relaxed a bit. Just a little.

He slowly got the hang of being a dad and tried to take the role of the stern father,but... you took the cake instead.

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

This is it! Thank you for reading!

#bleach x reader #bleach #shihouin chika x reader #shihoin chika

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masterwords · 1 year

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falling away from me

Summary: A re-imagining of the immediate aftermath of 5x09 - 100 with Hotch/Morgan and some hospital times and an IA hearing that isn't absolute cruelty.

Pairing: Hotch/Morgan

Warnings: hospital, injuries, grief...this is the aftermath of "100" so you know it's not a pleasure cruise

Words: 5.6k

Notes: HEY! It's my birthday today, and I decided to be super selfish and write something completely self-indulgent...up to and including naming the Director of the FBI Skinner in honor of my love for X-Files. (Hopefully you didn't have to see the first version of this where I posted the WRONG DRAFT but it's fixed now and I'm a moron. Moving on!)

It's funny how quickly a day can get away from you.

Not funny ha ha, no not quite like that. Just...funny. In a different way. When you look back.

But when you're in it...

“You look like hell,” the nurse says, tucking the nasal canal back into place after the third or fourth time he's pulled it loose. He doesn't want it, doesn't think he needs it, but the doctor's orders are all she has to go by and this guy...well he's a wreck. She's not going to chance it. It barely fits up his nose, she's not even sure it helps. This guy's nose is broken in at least two different places, it is a swollen mess of cartilage and tissue that she imagines used to be regal at one point...but now he's breathing through his mouth. Still she sets it back in place and glares at him seriously. Thinks she can intimidate him.

It almost works.

“When can I leave?”

“Let me check on that, okay huh? Keep this in for me please.”

He will. For now. He's too tired, and his shoulders ache. He can't lift his arms again, so he tries to lay there and relax. His mind drifts back to the morning, the moment his alarm went off...he'd already sort of been awake, like always, but the sound of the alarm pulled his eyes open.

Aaron can remember plenty of days he woke up drenched in sweat, the ache of dread in his belly before he even knew what the day would hold. He can place them all by the timid way he went about his business, readying himself for an unpredictable day where the only certainty...or so he thought...was that it would be bad. And sometimes that premonition was right, but usually it was wrong. Mildly correct, maybe, if he wanted to stretch. Every day had its low point after all.

But as he lays in the hospital bed contemplating what possible reason they could have for the nasal canal when his nose barely works at all, he can't remember any remarkable feeling from this morning. Nothing that felt any different than any other day. His alarm went off like always, and he planted both feet flat on the floor. It always takes him a minute now to be ready to stand, his stomach is always sore, always just a little stiff and weak and painful in the morning. It's when he's reminded with the most clarity that he's not well. So he sits there a minute to let his body adjust to being awake. Every day he wakes a little further away from Foyet's attack, but the dawn always reminds him that he has a long way to go no matter how he pretends that he's healed.

Everyone else believes it.

And the minute that movement was granted, he dove into routine. A shower, a shave, plain oatmeal with his coffee. No strange feelings, just the sun creeping through his drawn shades as usual. It always came in the same dashes of faded yellow and gold, dust dancing a ballet in the bright spaces.

He took the train to work. Tonight, if everything went according to plan, would be date night, and on date night he takes the train to work because it's more inconspicuous that way when he goes to Derek's instead of home. In case anyone thought to look. Knowing the people he kept closest, they would. Derek would ride his motorcycle to work on these days and pick him up from a station about halfway there sometime after he'd had a chance to order them each a coffee.

He's not even sure it's a secret anymore, but there is a certain thrill that drives this weekly performance and it makes him feel enough good excitement that he doesn't question the actual need for it.

Routine. Aaron likes routine. He knows it's bad, knows damn well it's bad...in his line of work, especially. More than likely his routine allowed Foyet to find a way into his home and into his life, but he can't just throw caution to the wind and live every single day spontaneously. His life, and more importantly his mind, just isn't designed that way. He can't function without routine. It's the only thing that keeps him here some days.

He blinks and wonders at what point his day went from ordinary to nightmare. There is a lot of blank space in his memory bank between the journal with Carl Arnold and US Marshal Sam Kassmeyer bleeding to death in his living room.

A scene Aaron is a little too familiar with. He remembers looking at Sam and feeling sick, it's beyond empathy...he doesn't just feel it, he knows. He knows exactly. Sam says he doesn't know how Foyet got in, and Aaron knows. He knows. He has four locks on his door now, and an alarm system, because he knows. He never has figured out that riddle and it haunts him every single night.

There is more blank space between the ambulance with Sam and his own hours later.

His mind slows to a crawl around Sam, his missing fingers, his bleeding and swollen features. It's pure horror. Wes Craven would be hard pressed to create something worse that could live in his mind. He sees Sam's ruined hand, bloody and swollen around a glass of beer and a quiet cheers from beyond the veil. “To you and your family,” he seems to say through his ruined pulpy lips. “You'll join me soon won't you?”

It's a hallucination. He knows that, but it's so real, just Sam sitting there in a squeaky vinyl hospital chair bleeding and drinking his foamy beer in the corner beneath the wall mounted television. And then Foyet appears beside him grinning that wicked grin and the heart monitor begins panicking, screaming. “Not real,” he whispers to himself, flexing his bruised and swollen hands. A reminder. His joints are stiff and hurt badly enough that he almost cries out at the sudden movement, but it reminds him of what happened. At least part of it. His hands were broken on Foyet's face. “Not real.” He calms himself just before the nurse enters his room to check for disturbances. This isn't the first time, and she gives him that look that says he needs to calm down.

“Are you sure you wouldn't like something to help you relax?” she asks, though she is glad to see he hasn't taken the canal out again. He's improving. But this isn't the first time she's offered him a sedative. Or even the second. He chews on it for a moment and finally agrees. If whatever she wants to push into his IV will stop him from seeing Sam and Foyet there staring at him, well maybe it's worth it.

“I'll get a doctor to order something just to take the edge off.” He knows what that means, they're going to knock him out. “It sounds like you could be here a while yet. Sleep might help the time pass a little faster.”

While he waits, he's alone with all of these thoughts and the paper thin blanket and the judgmental machines keeping track of all of his vital signs. He toys with the pulse ox on his finger, pressing his finger further in and then sliding it out just enough that it kept reading. He's already learned his lesson there. Slide it out too far and the damn thing screams for a nurse. He doesn't want that lecture again. He's just...restless.

And alone. Lonely. Those are not mutually exclusive, and he's acutely aware of how different they both feel when piled on top of one another.

“I'm fine,” he keeps saying when they ask him how he's feeling. He mumbles it through swollen lips, his jaw stiff, blood crusted in Rorschach designs all over his face, forcing his already unruly hair up into chaotic spikes. One eye has nearly swollen closed, the other doesn't seem far behind, and his nose is definitely broken, he can barely breathe through it. The canal doesn't help. “I need to see my son.”

“Sir, you need to lie back down.”

The worst part is, he's all talk. He really can't do much more than lie down, that's the real joke of it all. He's adamant that he should be let go and yet every minute that ticks by his body settles further and further into a complete state of disarray. He's miserable. They did some x-rays and said some troubling things about his ribs and his tailbone, there is a lot of concern about internal bleeding (given his medical history they keep saying like he's not right there watching them look through his file with horror or pity marring their features)...he knows he's where he should be, but he can't think about anything except Jack. Before they bring him a sedative, he sees Haley join Sam and Foyet in the corner of his room and feels the sting of tears in his eyes. “No,” he whispers and the nurse, pushing tube connectors into place glances down at him like he'd been talking to her. She realizes quickly that he's staring into empty space, into nothing, and continues her task. He'll be asleep in no time, poor thing.

“I need to make a call,” he mumbles before his head lolls to the side and his eyes close. He's trying to fight the cold push of drugs in his vein, there's just no way. It trickles shards of ice, pushes them upstream from the back of his bruised hand through his arm and disperses them from there. He's powerless to stop it. “Please. I need to make a call.” He needs to call Jessica. He tries to say her name, but it doesn't come out. In fact nothing is really coming out right. The nurse tucks his blanket up a little higher to stave off a chill. He's shivering.

She runs into Derek on her way out, he looks like he's in a hurry and she reaches her hand up to slow him down just a touch. “You're here for Mr. Hotchner?”

“Yeah. SSA Derek Morgan, I'm his proxy.” He pauses and remembers to smile, a sweet gesture in trying times. “Is it okay if I go in there?”

“We've just given him a mild sedative, he's been very agitated tonight. He'll probably be asleep for some time but you're welcome to sit with him.”

Derek wonders how much she knows about why he's there, thinks her use of the word agitated is interesting. Yeah, you'd be agitated too if you were in his shoes.

“Hey,” he says as he enters the room, dimming the lights automatically. He watches Aaron blink slowly in his direction without really seeing him. He's not there, not really. Asleep and awake in some liminal space, some dreamland that doesn't look very inviting if the pinched look on his face is anything to go by.

“...look terrible...” Aaron drawls thick and syrupy. His backwoods Virginia accent slips out when the stars align, when the universe wills it, when he's drugged and tired and off his rocker a little. Every wall he's ever built has crumbled around him today. Every safety net, every shield, it's all been tested and failed in one fell swoop. He's raw and bloody and broken. Derek wonders how Aaron even gets up and walks out of here, but he's going to ignore that thought for the time being and choose to believe it's possible. As a test of that faith, Derek forces a smile for his benefit.

“You're still gorgeous,” Derek replies, standing beside the bed, brushing one finger along Aaron's cheek. It's true. Even with his hair matted in bloody spikes and his face swollen and patchy, even with bruises painting deep watercolor pools over skin that was once flawless, with deep purple and black crescent puddles beneath his eyes, he's gorgeous.

Aaron shakes his head, just slightly, side to side. It's painful so he only does it once but it gets the point across.

“...no you...terrible...”

“Oh. I look terrible? Thanks. I'm gone all day and this is the reception I get when I finally get here?”

He knows. He does look terrible.

“...tired...” Aaron whispers thick and sad. He licks his lips and winces at the movement in his jaw. “...sad...” God he looks so sad, Aaron thinks through his medicated fog. “...why?” There are bags under his eyes. Derek never has bags under his eyes. Most of the day is a blur, but he knows that everything scattered across Derek's features is his fault. In some dim way, he can't touch it but he feels it. Those damn blank spaces.

“Go to sleep, baby,” Derek says, pushing the bloody matted hair back from Aaron's forehead and pressing a kiss dead center, warm and soft and a little too long. “I got nowhere else to be but here. With any luck, I'll look even worse when you wake up from your beauty sleep.”

(x)

“Can I have a minute with him, doc?” Derek asks quietly, and the doctor nods. They've been there for hours, and Aaron never did really sleep. The sedative was only strong enough to make him slow, barely lucid, but never actually asleep. It wasn't really helping. More tests had come back and the doctor was hovering, waiting for him to be awake enough to share information. But he just keeps blinking long and slow and sad, and Derek figures they can give him a break. Another trip around the clock won't hurt.

“I'll come back in an hour with the last of the results and we'll see about discharge.”

“Thanks, man.”

Derek had been pacing while the doctor tried to get Aaron's attention, but now he's back by the side of the bed. He sits down, scooting Aaron's legs over just enough to give himself room, and stares at him. Long and hard, he looks and he can't find it in him to smile this time. As much as he'd like to. Just force that megawatt smile and tell him everything is fine and they'd be going home soon and life would go on.

Well, life is going to go on. Of that he's certain, but not the way they thought it would hours ago. Tonight was supposed to be date night, he reminds himself. And now he's staring into the face of a man who has lost everything that he'd built his life on. Sure, he's been divorced for years, but he still had Haley. He still knew her and could talk to her and since their divorce they'd managed to find some reasonable common ground. They claimed it was for Jack, but it was good for them too.

And now he's suddenly been thrust into single fatherhood without any warning, any preparation. Not only that, but it happened in the most violent way Derek could imagine, and that violence was going to leave a lasting mark on their family forever. It hit too close to home. He had watched his father bleed out on a city sidewalk and now he's right back there, staring into his own mother's haunting, devastated eyes as he looks at Aaron now.

“How are you doing?” he asks, knowing how crazy it must sound. But he really doesn't know what to think. How to feel. He's fumbling around in the dark here. All he knows is that Aaron looks awake, thoughtful, he's not blinking as slowly. He's aware of his surroundings in spite of the medication and the concussion.

“I want to leave.” That's the simple truth. He doesn't know how he is, but that hardly seems important. He just wants to go home, or go somewhere that isn't here. “Where is Jack?”

“He's with Jessica and her parents. They thought it best he stay with them tonight...the shock of seeing you like this might be too much for him after what happened. I didn't think I should argue with her.”

Aaron nods. He hates it but it makes sense to him even through his soupy mess of spilled thoughts. And truthfully, arguing with Jess is a lost cause. “Can I talk to him? Can you call them?”

“It's late, baby. It's midnight. They're probably all in bed. We'll call in the morning and make some plans okay?”

Derek is being as patient and as caring as he can be, but he's tired. He's exhausted and not sure he's got much gas left in the tank.

Aaron stares. And blinks, like he's putting together puzzle pieces in his mind. “Midnight?” he asks, like that was the only part that registered. Midnight. How in the hell is it midnight? When the ambulance sped away from his little suburban nightmare the sun was still high in the sky.

“Yeah.” Derek can't explain to him where the time has gone, not really. He's not sure himself. He was trapped in that house for hours, minute after minute, hour melting into hour until they were nothing but a murky congealed mess. “I know. But I think they're gonna cut you loose soon. We'll get the heck outta here, maybe eat something, get some shut eye and...” And what? It'll all be okay in the morning? He can't say that. “We'll call Jess as soon as we get up.”

Soon ends up being another hour, which feels more like a lifetime and the blink of an eye all twisted up like a candy cane. An endless barber pole spinning spinning, colors whirling, hours twirling but never really going anywhere. Derek was lulled into a sense of almost well-being while they waited, a fact that never ceases to amaze him when he thinks about it later. Hospitals did that. When a steady stream of people come in to make sure you're okay, you start to feel a little invincible.

“I met Haley in my junior year of high school,” Aaron drawls with his eyes closed. The lights have started to bother him as they back him off of the meds in preparation for discharge. His concussion is one for the record books from the sounds of it. They're going to have a hell of a time managing it, Derk can already tell. He reaches out and plays with Aaron's hair while he talks, twists his fingers in it, scrapes his nails against scalp, tries to soothe him. It's a waiting game. Aaron's long buried Southern drawl is seeping slow like muddy river water on a hot summer day into every third or fourth word. Derek can almost feel crawdads and fly fishing and mud between his toes. “She was a sophomore. Derek...she was the prettiest girl in the whole school...”

“Yeah. I bet she was,” he replies quietly, wrapping both hands around one of Aaron's. He's so cold, his skin so tight and swollen around broken knuckles but somehow he feels ice cold even still.

“She had a boyfriend, of course. Nathan Fisher. His dad ran a bar, he would let us sneak in sometimes on slow nights to get sodas and play pool. He had this bar tender on Wednesdays who would pour us the worst beer, it was always warm and too foamy but it made us feel pretty cool. Nathan was a good guy. I just wanted to be around her, y'know?” That drawl began deepening as he spoke, as he drifted in and out of what looked like a teary reverie bashed with the violence of the present. “Just wanted to be near her.”

“Did she like you?”

“She didn't even know I was alive until I made a fool of myself in the theater production...guess she felt sorry for me after...but eventually she loved me.” Aaron stops, crafting a thoughtful pause, and Derek smiles in anticipation. “I think.”

His heart sinks. That's not what he'd expected. He knows damn well it's not true. “Nahhh, man, she loved you. Don't go there.”

“And Jessica,” he continues, like Derek never even spoke. “She hated me. We were in debate together. When she found out I was dating her sister...” his voice trailed off, lost in the ghost of a smile. “I love her.”

“I know.”

“She hates me now.”

“Alright man, you're gettin' a little silly on those meds. You gotta give it a rest okay? Haley loved you, and Jessica sure as shit doesn't hate you. She might be upset about what happened to her sister, and she's right to be, but no way she hates you for it.”

Her parents, on the other hand, Derek knows they don't share that sentiment. They were...well they'd already made angry phone calls to him about all sorts of things he would rather die than talk to Aaron about. They didn't know he and Aaron were together, but they sure as hell knew he was the Unit Chief and held both he and Aaron responsible for what happened to their daughter.

Well, Derek figures, get in line. The two men in this hospital bed don't need help in the guilt department. They're threatening to take the FBI to court and he won't stand in their way. IA has already requested a hearing ASAP to go over everything between Foyet's attack on Hotch to now with a fine tooth comb, and they aren't willing to give Aaron a pass on it. The whole team is under investigation.

(x)

Home. Derek's home, because Aaron's apartment won't do, not tonight. The last thing he needs to see is that apartment. Instead, they're met with Clooney bumping into their legs, his long tail thrashing against their shins as he beckons them inside and begs them to sit on the couch. His favorite place to hop up into their laps...Derek has been gone longer than usual and he's clearly a little extra clingy.

He can sense something off in Hotch, he walks with his side pressed against Hotch's leg the entire distance from the doorway to the couch.

The mainline of meds right into Aaron's veins had ended over an hour prior and the pain hit him like a ton of bricks. There is no hope of sleep, not yet, not like this, Derek realizes. He isn't even sure he could do it anyway, so he decides to cook instead. He hasn't eaten anything all day and this was, still, technically date night. Sort of. Maybe they'll get in the shower afterward, Aaron still has so much blood in his hair.

“It wasn't your fault.” It comes out as nothing more than a thin rasp that catches Derek off guard while he pushes eggs around listlessly in the frying pan. Mindless work, he's probably overcooked them by now, his mind has been engaged elsewhere. There is salt and pepper in there, but he's on autopilot, just trying to get some toast and scrambled eggs onto a plate and into their bellies. Like that'll erase everything, fix it all.

“What's that?” he asks, turning the burner off before he pours the eggs onto the waiting plate and grabs two forks. He checks that he turned the burner off twice more before he leaves the kitchen with the plate in one hand, and two bottles held by their necks between his fingers in the other. Ketchup and hot sauce. It occurs to him that he can't remember how Aaron likes his eggs which is absurd because...he knows this. He's known it for years. He just can't get to it. His mind is completely on auto pilot, non-essential tasks and knowledge have been shut down, archived. Breathe, eat, sleep. They're both breathing, and he's trying to take care of the eating...he's not so sure of the sleep part but it's in there. It's next on the list of things to try.

“It wasn't your fault...what happened...” Aaron drawls it out this time in a voice that almost seems to ooze out thick like orange blossom honey straight from the comb. The accent, steadily getting stronger as the night wears on, almost sounds fake except he knows where Aaron is from, he's met his mother, he's seen that house.

“I know.” He doesn't, though. But he's not going to argue. It's all his fault. He could trace what happened to at least ten missed clues or opportunities. Ten that he can think of, dozens more if you give him time. Yeah, he's keeping score. Yeah that's what unsubs do, who cares at this point. He knows it's his fault, but Aaron doesn't want to hear that. Won't hear it. “It was Foyet's.” That's the only thing he can say that isn't a bigger lie than he'd started with. Aaron's blank stare at the mention of Foyet's name is haunting. In any case, Derek plans to take full responsibility for everything at the hearing and there isn't anything else to think about right now.

Clooney snores with his head on Aaron's feet, drooling on his pale pink hospital grippy socks, and Aaron picks silently at the overcooked scrambled eggs perched on Derek's thighs. “I love you, you know?” Derek says, like Aaron could forget something like that.

“I know.” He doesn't say it back right away, but he rests his cheek on Derek's shoulder and he cries and it's almost the same thing right now.

(x)

“Director Skinner,” Aaron deadpans with a nod, unable to forget his manners for even one moment. This is an Internal Affairs hearing, after all, and they're here because he fucked up. Because he didn't follow protocol. And he can't say he blames them, he didn't...but he also doesn't feel guilty, because he shouldn't. None of them have ever had their lives and the lives of their families utterly destroyed by the hands of a man who managed to skirt the system and its supposed fail-safes time and again. Witness Protection should have been enough, and it wasn't. But going back further, arresting him and putting him in prison should have been enough and it wasn't. And further yet? Boston P.D. tracking him with the help of the BAU should have been enough...but it wasn't.

“Agent Hotchner,” Skinner says quietly, tapping the table and indicating for Strauss to turn on the tape recorder. “We won't keep you long. I know your son is waiting for you.”

“Thank you.”

As Skinner opens his mouth to ask the first question, one he hopes will be the only question, the light on the intercom blinks. Flashes red. No one should be in the building, and they all feel a little dread watching it flash. “Do you mind?” Skinner asks and Aaron shakes his head, his hands folded neatly in his lap. He's too sore to move, to do anything but sit stone still and wait until this is over.

There is a squeaking sound on the other end, fuzzy and high pitched, and then a room full of hushed murmurs that sound more than a little like panic. “May I ask who is calling?”

“JACK!”

Everyone in the room smiles, everyone but Aaron. He's staring at his hands.

“Hi Jack. Are you Agent Hotchner's son, the very famous Jack Hotchner?”

“Yes.” Aaron can make out the sound of JJ's voice just behind Jack's, coaching him.

“Jack, did you know there's a secret code on the vending machine in the BAU that will get you a candy bar without even putting in money? If you promise not to tell anyone, I'll give you the code.”

“I hafta ask my dad...” Jack says a little morosely and Aaron's eyes flick up, meet Director Skinner's for just a moment and he nods.

“Well, Jack, I happen to be sitting in a room with your father right now and he says it's okay.”

It doesn't take long before Aaron can hear Reid muttering about a secret code and JJ assuring Director Skinner that the code will be safe with Jack. She'll keep Reid and Morgan far away from it. Emily is pretty sure she can steal it from JJ without her ever knowing, and then she'll make bank selling candy bars out of her desk.

“Agent Anderson,” Skinner says, turning in his chair to the man standing at the doorway. “Call the vendors for that machine and have them change the override code tomorrow morning.”

Aaron almost smiles, the corner of his mouth twitches small and fast. It's gone before anyone sees it, but he can feel it in his chest, a momentary lightness.

“Thank you, Director Skinner,” he whisper speaks. It's quiet and thin sounding. Skinner has known Aaron a long time and is more than a little shaken by his current demeanor. He'd anticipated some level of grief, of injury, but this...well he just looks broken. A wispy shadow of his former self.

“I think we can forgo this interview, Aaron. Your team has made things clear enough for our reports. I'm comfortable with leaving things as they are.”

Strauss opens her mouth, sits gaping at him for a moment. She can hardly believe her ears. “Director Skinner,” she protests and he shakes his head.

“I know protocol says we need to get a statement from Agent Hotchner, but I think we can all agree that this hearing is nothing more than cruelty at this juncture. Perhaps, if it would be agreeable to you Aaron, we could accept his statement in writing by the end of the week?”

“You're the Director,” one of the IA Agent says, closing her own file. “If that's what you're willing to accept, I see no reason to drag this out.” She's uncomfortable, too. Aaron is still staring at his hands.

“Well, Aaron?”

“It'll be on your desk in the morning.”

And just like that, he's pushing himself up out of the chair and shaking Director Skinner's hand. Skinner looks a little mortified when he squeezes too hard, apologizes under his breath and Aaron pretends like it didn't even register.

“Thank you, sir,” Aaron says and Skinner nods solemnly.

“Go home and be with your son. Save the report until the end of the week. That's an order.”

He walks snail slow back to the BAU, down long empty corridors and through keypad controlled doorways. He fumbles for his badge at every one, forgetting until the next one to have it ready. Every step drives the ache in his back deeper until he's practically dragging himself up the last of the stairs to the catwalk. Familiar territory, the home stretch. Derek is standing over the table keeping a watchful eye, making sure everyone behaves while they play a rowdy game of rock paper scissors with Jack whose face is covered in melted chocolate.

“That was fast,” Emily says, standing quickly to offer him her chair. He shakes his head and opens his arms instead when Jack comes flying at him. He'll stand. If he sits now, he might not get back up.

His back screams in violent protest as he lifts Jack up, holds him tight, buries his face in the boy's neck. Every muscle is seizing up, squeezing like a fist, yet somehow the smell of Jack and his chocolate cheeks are enough to keep him standing against the assault. It can't last long, but it'll last long enough.

“Are we all fired?” Emily asks, timid but laced with a little sarcasm. She can't help trying to cut the tension with a little joke. “Cos this is a really inconvenient time to be broke. The economy is in the shitter.”

“The BAU is cleared of all suspicion of misconduct,” Derek says, reading directly from an email Skinner sent him. Hastily typed, the man was clearly attempting to beat Aaron to the room...and judging by the way Aaron had moved like the Tin Man needing his joints oiled, he figured he had a few minutes to compose his thoughts. “Aaron just has to provide a statement in writing and it's all over.” He leaves out the bit about Skinner ordering him to make sure Aaron doesn't work on it until later in the week. That passes between them in a look when Aaron glances up at Derek helplessly from the crook of Jack's neck. Derek can see that he's on the verge of tears. He nods quickly and shoves his phone into his pocket.

“On that note, everyone get the hell out of here,” he says to the room before turning to Aaron and reaching out to take Jack from him before he collapses. “Do not come in tomorrow...or the next day. I'll text you guys when I want you back in the office.”

“Are you...still the boss?” Reid asks, a little unsure, a little unsteady. He regrets it immediately when everyone's eyes flicker toward him, burning through him. Not the time, not the time. “I just meant...now that...”

“You got a problem with that, kid?”

“No, sir." Reid's little smile, a little snarky, makes Emily laugh and shake her head.

“Hotch is gonna need some time off to be with Jack so I'll hold down the fort, business as usual. We'll let you know when or if that changes.” He pauses, letting them all absorb that little if he slipped in there. They'll have plenty of time to discuss that later. Not now. Locking eyes with Aaron, he offers him a gentle smile, a way out. “Let's go home.”

#aaron hotchner #derek morgan #hotchgan #hotch x morgan #criminal minds #cm fanfiction #hotch whump

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shegoesbyjoy · 1 year

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i've been thinking a lot about why Disco Elysium in particular has touched the core of my being in a way no other piece of media has and i think there are several factors at play here. this is half a review and half me dumping my various thoughts on this game ever since i finished it a couple months ago.

AS A VIDEO GAME ITSELF—i've been trying to identify what exactly it is about certain games that causes them to rise above all the rest that i've played, and i have come to the realization that in all of them, combat is usually one of the least consequential things on that list. i love Hades, have dumped 160+ hrs into it, but despite it being a very combat-heavy game with extremely tight controls that i do find truly satisfying, that is not what kept me playing. it's the characters, the art, the story, the world-building, the music...

similarly, while the combat in Horizon Zero Dawn is really quite fun, what really charmed me about it was its spunky, badass protagonist and fascinating mechanical creature designs, in addition to the story set in a world that captivated me from beginning to end. Night in the Woods took my breath away with its emotional & poignant writing told through a unique & delightful art style. i didn't even finish The Last of Us, but Ellie's moment with the giraffes is ingrained in my brain—and of course i went ahead and watched someone else play through to the end so i could enjoy the rest of the story without having to slog through zombie fights myself. so while i always appreciate well-executed combat in games (and have given up on games that do it too poorly), it's never what keeps my interest.

SO. what happens when you take combat out of a game entirely, and absolutely excel at everything else? you see where this is going.

THE CHOICE OF MEDIUM—the fact that DE's story was told through a video game (as opposed to a book, a show, a movie, etc.) is absolutely crucial, because of your active role in the consumption of said story. i think that's what gives some of its scenes such devastating emotional impact. watching this train wreck of a character that you happen to be playing blurt out the most unhinged responses despite your best attempt to salvage the situation, coming to terms with the awful reality of what's in front of you at the same time Harry does, seeing the immediate results of your choices as well as slowly realizing how your choices affect the story long-term as the pieces start coming together... all of this creates an immersive experience that is unparalleled. the game doesn't take self-insert so seriously that the protagonist ~can be anyone~ (Harry's characterization is, in fact, very strong and well-established) but there's absolutely no way a Disco Elysium book or show would have the same impact as me having to progress the story by fucking around and finding out.

GAME SPOILERS AHEAD—combining these two aspects of DE helps to explain what made the tribunal the MOST TENSE i've ever felt playing a video game. this is essentially as close to combat as you'll get in this game. you've just spent the last 20-30 hours becoming very familiar with the mechanics of the game with regards to the dice rolls. you become accustomed to the fact that most skill checks are white so you can come back to them, and that red checks are comparatively rare. enter the tribunal: suddenly you have several very high stakes red checks in a row. you can't leave. you can't try an individual check again if you fail. the story itself has been alluding to this very moment throughout the game. people are DYING, and the lives of those that remain, including your own, are on the line. your earlier decisions have come to a head.

it was 3 am when i got to this point in the game, and the reality of the situation i found myself in shook off every bit of sleepiness i'd been feeling up to this point—my eyes were wide open and my heart was pounding.

i know many people who play video games derive a lot of satisfaction from perfecting mechanics, learning patterns, or deducing the weaknesses of a difficult boss. for me, this satisfaction gets dwarfed by the frustration of having to spend far too long dealing with it in the first place. triggering a boss battle oddly takes me out of the story, because it feels like a very marked switch from "being the protagonist in the game's world" to "sitting on my couch playing a Video Game", where the same repetitive action of "killing the enemy" becomes my goal, no matter what the game is.

by contrast, the tribunal was very much a continuation of the story with each skill check having immediate results on how that story plays out. no other moment in the game was quite like it, and i had no idea how this sequence of events was going to go, so every action felt extremely fraught. i was on the edge of my seat in a way no other game has gotten me to feel, because the weight of this encounter felt monumental in DE. and of course, this is where you come across an iconic skill check where you find out exactly how much your previous choices matter...

i was so damn nervous during this check i probably would've cried if i failed it lmao

FUCK YOUR EXPECTATIONS—this leads me to the other thing that's got me smitten with this game: the subversion of expectations. dialogue options are never written so transparently as to have a "correct" answer, and trying to stay neutral with my answers got me a well-deserved smack in the head in the form of a brutal burn about the dangers of centrism. we have 3-dimensional characters that make you growl in frustration one moment and your heart swell in the next, descriptions that make you marvel at both the beauty and ugliness of humanity, situations where you feel crushed by sadness and dread then want to cry tears of happiness because despite all of it, there is still magic left in the world. it's also so goddamn funny. this game is fucking hilarious—and what is comedy, what is a punch line but the subversion of an audience's expectations established during the setup?

Disco Elysium is a game that far exceeds the sum of its parts. it excels in its storytelling, its voice acting brings incredible life to said phenomenal writing, its gorgeous painterly art style is visually compelling, its music is flawlessly incorporated to full effect, it's intellectually stimulating and fascinating philosophically, and as a murder mystery (oh yeah that's what this game's premise is, right?) it's just plain fun to reveal clue after clue while pondering theories as to what the heck is going on. these individual components come together to create a multi-dimensional piece of media that's deeply human, yet fantastical and absurd. it's uncomfortably relatable while inspiring empathy for even the most unfamiliar of experiences.

for instance, i have no personal experience with alcoholism or addiction, but boy do i sure know what it's like to have a compulsion to apologize at every opportunity for simply existing—to want to cease existing, period. i don't know what it's like to grow up and live in a post-soviet country yet the experience in-game felt as vivid as ever, inextricable from the story's identity. i felt a pang of pained recognition in Kim's complicated relationship with his race as diaspora, and found myself wishing i had the ability to respond even half as effectively as he did with the Racist Lorry Driver during my own past run-ins with racist assholes. this game has caused me to think more deeply about my own politics, my relationships, the world around me, the power of art, the role of capitalism, beauty, hope... even what it means to be alive.

A CHANGED PERSON—a realization i came to a while ago while talking to a friend was that almost all of the media i had enjoyed up to that point shared a theme of escapism in one way or another. there have been many moments in my life where i wished to be somewhere else. to be someone else. i immersed myself in stories where the fantasy of it seemed so much better than the reality of my own life. this game forced me to reckon with where i am, who i am. and not only that, it encouraged me to be accepting and loving of the here and now, despite every single flaw i seemed to be obsessed with pointing out. it made it abundantly clear that constantly running away was not a viable way of living, and that flaws were not a reason to give up. "something beautiful is going to happen"—i should very damn well let it.

it's not an exaggeration to say this game has changed me irrevocably, and the fact that this impossible piece of art even exists in this world feels like a miracle. i'm so grateful that i got to experience it.

#disco elysium #disco elysium spoilers #personal #video games #wow this was long huh?#thanks for reading!

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