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btsgotjams27 · 1 year

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the man in black | knj (2)

you hope to meet a tall, dark, handsome man at a bar.

✨ title: the man in black | ✨ pairing: namjoon x f!reader ✨ genre/au: fluff, light smut(?) | strangers-to-lovers(?), bookstore!au ✨ rating: R | ✨ word count: 3.8k ✨ warnings: namjoon in the black turtleneck/black slacks outfit, language, alcohol consumption, kissing, touching, allusions to sex, minor details about sex (spanking, cockwarming) ✨ a/n: helloooo! and we're back with these two crazy people who f*cked in a bathroom bar lmaoooo. this takes place before and after the first drabble. ;) and this is un-beta'd b/c i couldn't wait to post it, again, apologies if this suuuucks. translation cr to doolsetbangtan | also tagging @jeongkoos

[ PREV ]

[ Three hours earlier ]

Dating apps weren’t doing it anymore because you’d match with the most boring guys in the city. You only had one week left until your parents would set you up on a blind date. And knowing your parents, you wouldn’t put your trust in them either. You wanted to meet someone in a natural way. It was dumb, and you know that, but nothing else was working. Why couldn’t you dream of meeting a tall, dark, and handsome stranger in a grocery store while the two of you reached for the same apple? Stupid, you know, but you can dream, can’t you?

You sighed, stirring your vodka soda in its clear glass. The bar was pretty full on a Friday night, and you happened to find an empty seat amongst the sea of couples on a date. Getting dolled up and coming to the bar was the best idea you could come up with in hopes of meeting your soulmate. You were leaving it up to destiny to bring this non-existent man you’d dreamt of.

The seat next to you opened up, and immediately, it was taken by a man. Quickly glancing to see if he would be a possible candidate, you noticed the ring on his finger and shifted your body away from him.

When you called the bartender over, you were nearly finished with your drink, but your attention was interrupted by feedback on a mic. You looked to see five guys filing in, four of them in white dress shirts and one in a black turtleneck - someone didn’t get the memo, you chuckled quietly.

One of the men in white tapped on the mic before speaking into it. “Hello, we apologize for interrupting you on this beautiful night, but I–we wanted to come up here and perform this song for my beautiful bride-to-be.”

Everyone turned their heads and clapped as the man pointed to the woman sitting towards the front, who was blushing and covering her face from embarrassment.

“This is for you, baby.”

A low, sexy beat blasted from the speakers, and a low, husky voice overwhelmed everyone’s ears. Everyone bobbed their head to the song as the men in white began singing and rapping. You thought about the bride-to-be sitting in the front row, about how lucky she was to find someone who would embarrass himself because he loved her so much.

As the song continued, you waved the bartender down once more to order another vodka soda, and the drink was in your hands faster than the man you wanted to be dropped in your lap. Like everyone else, you bobbed your head to the song's beat, and it wasn’t until you heard a voice that had your attention again. Peering over, it was the man who didn’t get the memo, the man who was in all black, just oozing sexy vibes from head to toe. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of him. How could you not? He stood out the most from the rest of the group. You guessed he was a part of their wedding party - probably had a significant other already. Who wouldn’t, especially when he looked like that?

You giggled at their choreographed dance while the others looked silly; the man in all black was the complete opposite. He was putting his whole body and soul into it, his dimpled grin on display, ruining all of the women (and men) in the crowd. His head rolled back from side to side, showing off his thick neck. He pulled his sleeves up, revealing what looked like an expensive watch, as he continued to carry on with their dance.

Once they finished their song, the bride-to-be stood up, giving her future groom a kiss. Feeling a bit flustered from the hollers and roars from the crowd, she quickly pulled him off the stage. The rest of the group bowed, saying thank you, and heading back to their tables and seats. While some sat down, the man in all black made their way to the bar. Your eyes widened, feeling frantic by being in the mere presence of a man that God chiseled himself. He looked even better up close.

With your back turned, the man in all black took a seat next to you, his thigh accidentally brushing up against yours, but he didn’t notice. It was enough to make your core ache. Yes, it’s been a while since you’ve been touched.

“Namjoon-ah, you had the whole crowd going wild,” said the bartender.

You nodded. “You really did,” you muttered, gasping, covering your mouth when you realized you had said it out loud. Fuck. Clearing your throat, you mumbled an apology before getting up to crawl into a hole to hide from your embarrassment.

The man in black, you assumed to be Namjoon, turned, calling out to you. “Wait–”

Sheepishly turning around, you sipped on your vodka soda to face the man himself. God–he was really gorgeous, tall, dark, and handsome, his skin a beautiful honey color. “You really liked my performance?” he asked, tilting his head. His eyes turned into a crescent shape, the corners of his lips curving into a smile, letting his dimples appear.

“Yeah, I mean, you seem like a natural on stage.”

“It’s ‘cause he is,” the bartender interjected. “He does spoken word.”

You wouldn’t have expected someone like him to do spoken word. Guess you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. “That’s, um, that’s pretty cool.”

Namjoon grabbed his wallet from his back pocket, pulled out a slate grey card, handing it to you. Gazing at the card, it read, ‘Moonchild Books and Cafe.’

“If you’re free tomorrow, there’s an event I’m holding. We’ll have local authors and poets reading some of their works,” he softly smiled, holding onto the card longer than expected. He apologized when he realized you were trying to take the card.

You flashed a thin smile, staring at the card in your hand, muttering his full name, ‘Kim Namjoon.’

You stayed for another hour or so, wanting to enjoy the live music but also low-key, avoiding the man in black, aka Kim Namjoon.

Every now and again, you'd catch stolen glances from across the room while he was with his friend group. You'd look away, hoping he didn’t catch you blushing like a schoolgirl who’d been eyeing their crush. He’s just a man, for fuck’s sake, but you had it down bad for a stranger you had the smallest of conversations with.

The time was nearly 11 o’clock before you decided to call it a night. The crowd was still lively, dancing the night away, but you didn’t feel like being a loser anymore sitting by yourself.

Walking down the hallway toward coat check, you were suddenly jolted in the direction of the bathroom. The door opened as you followed behind, recognizing the man in black pulling you in. Honestly, if it were anyone else, you’d cry for help. Considering it was tonight's sexy, gorgeous man, you’ll go along with it.

“Hi,” Namjoon’s voice was low and deep, caging you against the wall, making sure to lock the door behind you.

You managed to croak out some kind of greeting back.

Even his chuckle was sinister. “Couldn’t really let you go without talking to you again.”

You let out a small snort. “So, you chose the bathroom?”

He nodded while smiling, showing off those pretty dimples. “Needed someplace quiet.”

Biting on your lip, you suppressed the smile trying to creep up. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

Namjoon gazed into your eyes, discovering your beauty at an even closer range. “Please understand that I’m…never this forward, especially with someone I’ve just met.” As much as you were watching him tonight, he was doing the same – found you adorable, attractive, and stunning.

You told him your name, and he repeated it. “Should probably be on a first-name basis, huh? Just in case you need to scream my name.”

He grinned. “Very bold of you to assume I’ll be screaming your name tonight. Maybe you’ll be screaming mine,” Namjoon remarked, cocking his eyebrow.

“I’ll gladly scream your name, Namjoon,” you admitted shamelessly before leaning forward to place a kiss on his lips–and yes, they were as soft as you imagined, full, pouty, plush. Lips, you would never be tired of kissing.

Namjoon smiled into the kiss, thinking how much he loved that you kissed him first. His tongue nipped your top lip, begging it to open wider so he could continue to explore everything you had to offer. The somersaults unfolded in your stomach when he cupped your face, pressing his big frame against yours–his frame wasn’t the only thing that was big. You moaned into his mouth, feeling his growing erection pressed against your stomach.

He broke the kiss. “Can I touch you?” he asked, stopping everything until you gave him the okay, which you acknowledged quickly that you were completely okay with him doing anything he wanted.

Suddenly, he crouched, hooking your thighs and lifting you, causing an excited yelp to escape. Namjoon continued placing kisses on your neck as he settled you down on top of the cold counter, which felt nice against your burning skin. He connected his mouth to yours again, hands grazing your thighs. Lifting the hem of your dress, he hooked his fingers under your lace panties, making you squirm out of them and tossing them aside.

“Mm…much better,” he hummed.

[ the next day ]

“When can I see you again?”

That was the last thing Namjoon asked. He had already invited you to his bookstore event. It would be the perfect opportunity to see him again, but would it make you look desperate? Seeing a guy right after you fuck him? You shuddered at the thought of him being inside you again. It wouldn’t look that desperate, would it?

“So, let me get this straight. A tall, dark, handsome man fucks you in the bathroom of a bar, asks you when he can see you again, and you’re sitting here with me?” your best friend Yejin asked, gesturing for you to lean in closer to her. She lightly struck your head with her knuckles. “You dummy! We’re going to see this man.”

Technically, you had already made plans with Yejin, and you did consider going to Namjoon’s, but that was before you fucked him in the bathroom. “Stop, Yejin–I can’t go see this guy.”

Yejin stared blankly. “You’re always complaining about not finding ‘the one,’ and when he literally shows up right in front of you and INVITES you to go out then gives you the best sex of your life, you’re refusing all of a sudden? What happened to destiny and all that fate bullshit you’re always going on about?”

“I didn’t say he was the best sex I’ve ever had!” you whisper-shouted, hoping the people around you didn’t hear your conversation with your best friend. “I said he’s the best sex I’ve had in a long time. There’s a difference!”

Yejin rolled her eyes. You were impossible. The universe finally gave you what you wanted, right as you’re about to give up and go on a stupid blind date? Maybe it was too good to be true. Namjoon was like a fever dream. Sex with him was hot as fuck, but you'd hardly think it could turn into anything more. You literally had sex with a man you'd just met. It probably wouldn't be the best love story to tell to your future grandchildren. Do you know how we met? We fucked in a bathroom bar.

“Who am I kidding, Yejin? All that fate and destiny stuff is just that–bullshit.”

Maybe Namjoon would be the guy before 'the one'. Either way, the thought of keeping the blind date didn't sound bad at the moment. It could be a good backup in case nothing went further with Namjoon.

“Bullshit or not. We’re going.”

When the two of you arrived at the quaint, cute bookstore, you were quite impressed. It was like walking into a different world, walls filled with books from floor to ceiling, soft, broken-in brown leather sofas scattered throughout the space, tables, and chairs filled the area in the middle, while a small line of customers occupied the back where the sound of the espresso machine was hissing.

Immediately, you recognized Namjoon, only this time; he was in a completely different outfit from the one last night - a red shirt, dark jeans, and a tan trench coat to finish off his look. A completely different vibe from the man in all-black. Regardless of whatever he was wearing, he still radiated such confidence that you’d ever seen a man carry - it wasn’t the pretentious kind either, which was a plus in your book.

Yejin nudged you forward to talk to him. You shuffled nervously, approaching, waiting for him to finish his conversation. After a minute, he noticed you waiting. He grabbed your attention, telling you to wait for him.

“Hey–you came!” He didn’t know if should give you a hug, kiss, or handshake, so it turned out to be an awkward high-five.

“Yeah, um–I’m here with my friend,” you turned to point but realized how it looked because Yejin was nowhere in sight. It probably looked like you were trying to make excuses. “She’s…here somewhere. I'm sure we'll find her later."

He smiled, showing those sweet dimples you could curl into and sleep in. "Welcome to Moonchild Books and Cafe. I apologize. It's a bit crazy in here today. I wasn't expecting so many people."

Namjoon was really something else, completely different from the person you met last night. But you were intrigued to learn more about this side of him.

"Looks like this is a popular spot to be,” you commented, observing the buzz of the small crowd chattering and finding a seat.

“You gonna stay and hang out?”

Well, you were already here. It would be weird to leave. “Are you performing?”

He nodded.

You beamed at him. “Save me a seat in the front row?”

“Reserved and ready to go.”

You’d never been to a show quite like this. You’ve been to book readings by local authors but what Namjoon had put together was an incredible collective of local poets and artists. As if last night’s performance at the bar with his friends didn’t already impress you, this afternoon had you on your knees.

The last artist on stage, Min Yoongi’s piece was so raw, so real - you felt it in your bones. He was the person that Namjoon was speaking with when you first came in. And at the end of his performance, he promoted another event he’d be performing at as well, and you made sure to make note of it.

The crowd clapped and cheered for Yoongi as he stepped off, and Namjoon stepped up to the mic. He let out a nervous chuckle when someone in the crowd screamed his name. You guessed he had fans - but who wouldn’t be a fan? Namjoon checked off many boxes on your list, and you wondered how many he’d keep checking off.

“Thanks for coming out, my little Moonchildren. So, originally I planned to perform something else, but when inspiration hits, you gotta go with it, right?” he let out another chuckle, and the crowd agreed. “I, uh, stayed up too late writing this and prepping all morning, so I hope you guys like it.”

Is this love

Sometimes I know

Sometimes I don’t

There are words circulating around me

But none feels like how I feel

I can just feel it

Like the moon surely rises after the sun rises

Like fingernails grow,

Like the trees undress themselves layer by layer when the winter comes

That you are the one who will give meaning to my memories

That you are the one who will make a person into a love

Before knowing you, my heart was only filled with straight lines only

I’m just a human, human, human

You erode all my edges

And make me love, love, love

We are humans, humans, humans

Among those countlessly many straight lines

My love, love, love

When we sit gently on it, it becomes a heart

I live so I love

Live and love

If it’s love, I will love you

Namjoon stared directly into your soul when he emphasized the last line. Were you the inspiration for this piece? You couldn’t be, right? You’d briefly met the man, so there’s no way this could be about you. Unless he was in the same situation and was also completely smitten by a stranger he had fucked in a bathroom bar.

Yejin nudged you, leaning in. "Future boyfriend has a way with words."

After hearing him speak, only heart eyes came from you, like in those old cartoons where the main character has completely fallen head over heels. The simplicity and complexity of his words, the playfulness in his voice, and the way he was able to paint a beautiful story within a matter of minutes were impressive, to say the least.

“If you don’t fuck him again, I will,” Yejin snickered.

“Shut up,” you spat at her. It took everything in your power not to jump up on stage and give everyone a show. You were feeling hot and bothered, wanting to ask if you had any part inspiring what he had just performed. Though, it’d be embarrassing if you asked and it was about someone else.

Both you and Yejin stuck around after the crowd dwindled. You introduced Yejin to Namjoon, making it known to him that you weren’t lying about having a friend come with you. Namjoon asked if you wanted to hang out with him while he finished cleaning up. Yejin made the excuse of ‘being tired’ and would call a taxi home so that you could use the car. Shameless, as she was devising an agenda for you.

The last of Namjoon’s employees left, and you didn’t mind helping him - it gave you more time to get to know him without the getting naked part.

“You were pretty amazing on stage tonight. A bit intimidating, if I may say so myself.”

Namjoon waved his hand. “Nah–that’s just something I do for fun. This, right here,” he pointed to the bookstore, “this is my baby, my moonchild. So, you have nothing to be afraid of–I won’t bite,” he teased.

You raised an eyebrow, kind of hoping he was a biter. “Not a biter, hmm?” you asked, setting down the towel in your hand and staring at him.

Namjoon walked over to you, looking broad and burly in his red t-shirt. You didn’t get to see much of him last night. His black turtleneck clung to his body, but you still wondered what the rest of his body looked like. Granted, you didn’t mind his cock at all.

His eyes darkened, raving over your eyes, nose, then down to your lips. “Can I kiss you?”

You chuckled. “I kind of think we’re past that point now.”

“Bestie…” Yejin glared when you walked in the door at 9 AM on a Sunday. “You need to tell me anything?”

You lifted the small white bag filled with donuts and the tray of coffee. “I brought you goodies,” you said with a cheesy smile.

Yejin waved you over to the couch. “Come on. Give me all the details,” she said, patting a spot next to her.

After telling Yejin in detail what you and Namjoon did after the bookstore event, you found yourself very horny reliving it.

“Who knew you’d be into spanking?” Yejin laughed. “And cockwarming.”

“Right? Who the hell am I? And to be fair, many of the guys I’ve been with have been very vanilla, and Namjoon is just on a whole other level,” you groaned, lulling your head back.

The past two days have been more than satisfactory. You’d been whining and complaining about not finding a guy, but one suddenly drops in your lap, and you’re scared it’s too good to be true. Even the conversation you had with him after sex at his goddamn bookstore made you want to squirm. You learned he was obviously already intelligent but funny and a bit of a dork, which you supposed was needed to throw off the hot and sexy.

“Yejin,” you propped your head back up, and she hummed, turning to you. “You’d tell me if I was moving too fast, right?”

“Bestie…I love you, and you deserve to be happy. Remember…the only thing holding yourself back is you, and honestly, who cares if the two of you didn’t meet in a ‘natural way’, that’ll be a part of your love story.”

You didn’t want to admit it, but Yejin was right. Who cares if you and Namjoon had a perfect love story? That’s the beauty of love, really. It happens in a variety of ways.

Later that day, you bucked up the courage to go down to Moonchild Books + Cafe to see Namjoon again for the third day in a row. One might call you obsessed, but that’s because you might be just a smidge.

You walked in with a whole ass speech prepared, ready to confess only a few days worth of getting to know one another. But that’s what love does to you, right? Makes you do things you normally would never do.

Unbeknownst to you, Namjoon was also prepped with a speech. He wasn’t expecting to see you again so fast, but he did not mind it one bit.

“Hey, can we talk?”

“Sure, we can go to my office.”

Walking through the hallway to his office, you continued to mentally prepare to confess your feelings. You were also ready to be rejected because, who knows, you could be making a fool of yourself.

The pair of you sat on his brown leather sofa, facing one another. Namjoon flashed a thin smile, waiting for you to speak, but was only met with silence.

“I like you—”

To your surprise, he blurted out the same thing as you. The pair of you laughed at the sudden declaration. So really, you had nothing to worry about because he was probably just as nervous as you.

“You like me?” you asked sheepishly.

Namjoon chuckled. “I know it seems crazy because we barely know each other, but I would love the chance to get to if you’d like.”

You covered your mouth as you laughed. “Oh my god. I literally came here with a whole speech prepared, and I couldn’t even spit it out. But yes, I feel the same way. I know how we met was unconventional, but honestly, I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

He shuffled closer to you on the leather sofa, lips curving into a smile, his hand cupping your cheek. “Me too.”

#namjoon fic #namjoon fanfic #namjoon x reader #namjoon x you #bts fanfic #bts #namjoon #kim namjoon #bts fic #bts x you #bts x reader #namjoon scenario #namjoon imagine #namjoon smut

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hannibalxhopskins · 11 months

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Pros and Cons of the Clannibal relationship:

PROS:

1 - Hannibal respects Clarice

2 - He protects and takes good care of her

3- He’d never do anything to hurt her bc he loves her too much

4- Their relationship isn’t toxic, it’s healthy and stable

5- They don’t trauma bond because he helps her heal from her father’s death and she helps him with Mischa’s.

6- They have a healthy and consensual sex life

7- they have dinner together on the terrace

8- He never forgets to remind her how beautiful she is and tries to make her see that and accept it (in the book he makes her stand in front of a mirror and look at herself)

9- Clarice matches his wits and level of intelligence

10- He would literally do anything for her (includes killing anybody who is rude or disrespectful towards her. ex: Paul Krendler and Multiple Miggs)

CONS:

1- The only twisted and f*cked up thing about their relationship is their age difference (to an extent) and the fact that they both fall on the opposite sides of the moral spectrum because it’s an immorally fucked up and twisted relationship in terms of the nature of it but it’s nonetheless still healthy.

#thomas harris #anthony hopkins #hannibal lecter #clarice starling #clannibal

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goddess-help-us · 2 years

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US Democracy: Close to Death

Pardon my language.

But we are f*cked. Yesterday (June 30, 2022), SCOTUS agreed to hear “Moore v. Harper” on its fall 2022 docket. This case deals with the authority of states to run elections (see more detail later on)*. The conservative-majority court will likely rule in favor of Moore, which would let Republican-held state legislatures appoint their own electors in the electoral college, ignoring the popular vote. In essence, Republicans wouldn’t have to repeat Jan. 6 in the future. They could simply use Republican-held statehouses to reject election results they don’t like, ending free and fair elections in the US.

Presently, there are not enough votes for Congress or the President to do anything to stop this. Congress could potentially impeach Justice Thomas for his role in the Jan. 6 insurrection but the Constitution requires a two-thirds majority Senate vote to convict a sitting Supreme Court justice. Sufficient support for this does not exist in the Senate, and is not likely to exist at any time soon.

There is only one real, legal recourse to this threat: obtaining a true Democratic majority in the US Senate, which we do not have. Senators Manchin and Sinema are unreliable at best and potentially plants at worst. They support neither the reform of or conditional exemption to the filibuster, nor “packing the court.” We need two additional Democratic senators to make their spoiler-effect opposition irrelevant. A 52-member Democratic Senate would allow the filibuster to be bypassed and open the way for the Judiciary Act to pass, which would allow President Biden to add four additional Supreme Court justice seats to reign in this current slow-motion right-wing coup. Don’t think abolishing the filibuster is right? See additional text later.**

How do we get two additional Democratic votes in the Senate? There are currently two highly-competitive Senate races for seats held by Republicans in the midterms this November: Pennsylvania (Dr. Oz (R) vs. John Fetterman (D)) and Wisconsin (party nominees undecided, primary scheduled Aug. 9, 2022). The Dems also need to hold onto every seat they currently occupy. This includes other highly-competitive seats in: Arizona, Georgia, and Nevada. I’ve never campaigned for anyone in my life before but today I signed up to volunteer with John Fetterman’s campaign because I feel like this is important.

I can’t tell anybody what to do this information, I can only provide it. But I hope that people who value laws, regulations, and policies that support the social, economic, environmental, and democratic wellbeing of a society can recognize when those things are at stake (and they are). The Republicans and their right-wing evangelical supporters know that the 2022 midterm and 2024 general elections are the last chance they have to impose their religious agenda on the country. They know the majority of Americans do not support an elimination of abortion, the banning of LGBT people from public life, or the continuous denial of the climate crisis. That is why they are using the Supreme Court to take action right before these critical elections. They should not get away with this.

“I’m too anxious or burnt to do anything.” That’s true. It’s been an exhausting past two years. But, for myself, I hate to think of the regret I might have in 2024 when a Republican-held Court, White House, and Congress enact a nationwide federal ban on abortion or LGBT people. Do I want to ask myself at that time, “was there anything else I could have done?” “Electoralism doesn’t work.” I sympathize.*** Often times it feels we elect people who don’t ultimately do anything. But I guarantee that voting will become even more of a token gesture in the future under the likely Moore v. Harper ruling if it’s allowed to proceed unchecked. “The Nation is already f*cked, there’s no point in saving it. We should just let the inevitable balkanization of America happen.” While I think current inflation and supply chains are bad, I can’t imagine how much worse they will be when the nationwide networks of food, medicine, water, household goods, consumer electronics, et al. are subject to tariffs and various petty interregional conflicts that the federal government currently mediates. Yes, the US will cease to exist one day, but let that be a day when we decide that we no longer need the federal government to aid us in living healthful, rich lives, not because of a right-wing coup.

Thank you for your time if you've read this far.

*Moore v. Harper is a Supreme Court writ of certiorari between Thomas Moore, the Republican Speaker of the North Carolina House of Representatives, and Rebecca Harper, a North Carolina citizen who is collectively filing with other North Carolinians against the Speaker. The case has to do with a Feb. 2022 North Carolina Supreme Court decision that threw out the State Legislature’s election map as gerrymandered. The NC Supreme Court ruled that the maps adopted by the NC Legislature violated the NC Constitution. The NC Supreme Court adopted remedial election maps in their place. Speaker Moore, in turn, filed a writ of certiorari with SCOTUS that it accepted June 30. The NC Republicans believe the US Constitution does not allow state supreme courts jurisprudence over elections and that state legislatures should be able to run and organize elections exclusively. SCOTUS has continuously ruled, however, since 1916 (Davis v. Hildebrant) and as recently as 2015 (Arizona State Legislature v. Arizona Independent Redistricting Commission) that the Constitution does not give unilateral election-running authority to a state legislature but rather to the public or a state’s constitution. The likely SCOTUS ruling in the fall on Moore v. Harper would overturn over a century’s worth of precedent and allow sitting state legislatures to blatantly gerrymander election maps and even the ability to ignore the popular vote.

**Don’t think abolishing the filibuster is right? The US Constitution does not support the use of the filibuster and does not require a two-thirds vote for laws. It only specifies that a two-thirds majority be used for: censure, expulsion, conviction, and treaty approval. The Senate has reformed the filibuster throughout US history. Senators used to be able to simply filibuster a motion out of the Senate without any accountability. In 1917, the Senate changed its rules to allow a two-thirds majority vote to end debate, the first such check on the filibuster. In 1975, the Senate changes its rules again and dropped this threshold from 67 to 60 senators. Clearly, the Senate has a history of changing its own rules as allowed by Article I, Section 5 of the US Constitution. It is perfectly reasonable and constitutional to either reform or end the use of the filibuster.

***Yes, electoralism is not the end-be-all of civic engagement. It is the bare minimum. If you want more than casting a vote then (good news): there’s a wealth of civil society and community-based organizations out there waiting for your talent, energy, and expertise. Getting involved can connect you to additional resources. And, yes, support mutual aid requests as you are able but mutual aid is not a replacement for actual, scalable human services, like medicine, professional care, electronic infrastructure and services, formal education, et al. that our federal state provides. This is not an “one or the other” decision. All of the tools are here. Use all of them as you are able. Campaign, vote, organize, donate, spread awareness. All of it. And anybody calling for a violent revolution is clueless. The right-wing white supremacists have been preparing for this moment four four decades, with ready-to-mobilize militias. There are no comparable and scalable left-wing militia organizations to counter this. Sure, join your local Socialist Rifle Association but SRA, as it stands now, is simply not comparable to the organization that right-wing extremists currently have. And once you have outed yourself as an active leftist gun user (in the same way that white militias use theirs), you can forget about your constitutional rights. The longer-term solution is to create locally-based power that can resist overreaches by state and federal governments.

#scotus #us supreme court #moore v harper #elections #voting rights #voting rights act #abortion #abortion rights #womens rights #us elections #us democracy #left wing #community organizing

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violet-lotus · 1 year

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Okay. Here's to the antis crying that Jiang Cheng should have done more for the Wen Remnants.

Just no. WWX had already proclaimed himself an enemy when he intruded upon a conference at Koi Tower to threaten that he'd kill whoever dared to stop him from rescuing the Remnants. Anyone, especially YMJ would be committing political and literal suicide by aiding with WWX.

YMJ would not have been able to survive that. They had just survived a mass massacre and a long war. In a climate made on hierarchy, JC is in his young 20s. He has no allies.

His current Sect is made of a thrown together a collection of rouge cultivators and fresh disciples he had to train in less than a few months right after he survived watching his Sect burn, being tortured, and losing his core. Then, WWX was gone.

Still, JC went to war. To avenge his family, his people, his land, and to protect them from a tyrant. With WRH down, now JGS is the next. And we see the direct and very public pressure JGS puts on JC to distance from WWX.

Just because 'JC is a Sect Leader' doesn't mean he has more influence than JGS and the elders of the Jin Sect. Maybe the Lan's would have had that respect, but they had their own issues to resolve and their own alliances to maintain.

Speaking of which, YMJ needed their alliance with the Jin's. Only then would JC have more sway. As allies, there would be less incentive to destroy YMJ. There would also be public scrutiny cast on the Jin's should they openly damage their alliance with YMJ. Scrutiny that JGS and JGY do not want when they are conducting nefarious schemes to gain control (see Xue Yang in his extra with JGY).

With JC actively working to make peace with the Jin's, in addition to having JZX engaged to JYL, JC is able to take the attention and pressure off WWX and the Wen Remnants. The people don't want to focus on the threat that WWX is to their lives, their culture, and their loved ones (if they get raised from death and cut off from the circle of reincarnation). They talk about the grand wedding hosted between the Jin's & Jiang's. They talk about the birth of JL and his celebrations.

In fact, when JC tells WWX that he can't protect him if he defends the Wen Remnants, WWX flat out /rejects/ him. (So what are you crying to JC for?) WWX believes he can protect them himself. And he does. For almost a couple of years.

When does it go wrong? When WWX leaves BM and is on his way to attend JL's celebration.Jin Zixun ambushes & scapegoats him (endorsed by JGS!) WWX loses control of WN and WN murders Jin Zixuan.

JZX, who was the one to invite WWX despite knowing the opposition it would bring to him and DID cause.

Even in the ridiculous situation of JC housing the Remnants in LP (nvm his and his people's trauma of the Wen's), the Jin's scheming to murder would have happened to WWX regardless of where he was with the Remnants.

It's f*cked up. But does JC have control over JGS and JGY? No. So stop blaming JC for their downfall. It was on WWX to protect the Wen's and to control WN, no one else.

(Note, if JZX, his firstborn son and Sect Heir, could not persuade JGS and his clan to back off from WWX, what makes you think JC could?)

Afterwards, WN and WQ both decide on their own that in order to answer for the deaths at Qiongqi Path and JZX's murder, that they comply to the Jin's demand. They go voluntarily.

They tell WWX that they are grateful to him for the extra year of life and peace he gave them.

They leave with no regrets.

Again, I must ask you, why blame JC for their deaths?

JC knew that their ruin would eventually occur and tried to warn WWX. JC tried to stop it from happening by killing WN when he was uncontrollable and unpredictable, when WN had no conscience. But JC doesn't kill him. Bc WWX told him not to.

(WN nearly breaks out of BM but luckily LWJ happened to be there to help WWX subdue him and somehow restore his conscience, which WWX never knew would happen. So JC's concerns were not unwarranted.)

Forget and ignore at your convenience, but JC DOES speak up for WWX's actions and reasons for defending the Wen Remnants. No one else does. (Again, see my previous thread.) At the Pledge Conference, where the Sects are deciding what to do about WWX after JZX's death at Nightless City, it would not be hard to assume JC would try to not have them execute WWX. In the end we don't know, but we can say that he was unhappy with their decision to hunt down WWX for good.

After years of persuading others to not take offence to WWX's words & actions, of lessening the load of WWX's disciplinary punishment, of standing at his side & understanding WWX without needing words to be spoken, it would be absurd to say JC ever stopped trying to protect him.

But JC is only human. He could only protect WWX, and when WWX rejected his help, he could not do much else. He could only delay the inevitable.

He could not have protected the Wen Remnants even if he wanted to. Just like how WWX wanted to save them, but couldn't in the world that they live in where an eye for an eye is never enough, and the consequences of their actions never die no matter what their intentions are.

#canon jiang cheng #canon jc #mdzs #mdzs jiang cheng

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bohemian-nights · 4 months

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Fuck Rhaenyra, fuck the writers with this sapphic plotline they invented, it's simply pathetic, and fuck Emma D'Arcy who is the cause of that. Im sorry but why trans/LGBTQ agenda should be included, but then they don't care about racism? Cause Laena has bee treated awfully, next is Nettles, reduced to Daemon's new distraction/whim to cheat on Nyra and shows how bad husband he is, or even cut out to redeem him (?) This Show sucks. Fuck white privilegies. Fuck HBO and all the people who's supporting this trash. To all the people who kiss Emma D'Arcy's ugly ass, am i transphobic cause i hate what they did to Rhaenyra and to the story? Ok, and you're racist for using Laena as an excuse of made up ship (Laenyra) to shit on Daemon X Laena in order to praise your incest ship and for not wanting Nettles in the series cause could ruin it. Whatever happens it seems is always the black characters who gets sacrificed for the sake of white characters. I said what i said.

Um, this has the energy of this:

Oh God you really let it all out there. Minus calling Emma ugly(again guys can we please not call the actors/actresses ugly), I don’t think you are wrong and I get your frustrations.

It’s pretty clear this show has an agenda, is biased towards one character in particular at the expense of basically everyone else, and has a misogynoir problem.

Now to be clear, even though Emma is going along with what is being pushed, I think it’s inaccurate to blame any of the actors or actresses on this show for what is happening. Because at the end of the day it’s the show runners and the execs at HBO who are calling the shots. Emma is just a mascot for their agenda(take that as you will).

They more than likely purposely picked Emma because they wanted to make Rhaenyra into some feminist warrior queen who has a rainbow coalition of supporters against the conservative greens.

It’s corny, but with another character like say Rhaena the Black Bride(who’s already a lesbian) or even Visenya(who’s a warrior queen) it could work.

However the problem with choosing to make Rhaenyra into a revolutionary type figure/girl boss/feminist is that she’s the complete opposite of that.

Rhaenyra in canon is a racist to the point where she’s willing to use it to explain away murder, she mocks Laenor for being gay(says her half-brothers who are children are his type), looks down on and underestimates the small folk, and doesn’t even bother to help advance other women(Stokeworth and Rosby) in her class much less women like Nettles.

Her and Alicent have a completely different relationship dynamic in the books than in the show.

She’s selfish and self-focused. She’s malicious bordering on sadistic. She even puts her own children in danger for her own wants.

And before her followers go moaning she’s done too many things to claim that she’s been wrongly framed by the narrative. No sane person is chopping off heads and feeding it to dragons or trying to murder innocent women in their sleep. That’s not maester propaganda. She’s objectively awful.

She may be a woman, but she’s no better than her brother. Women can be just as awful as men(for Christ’s sakes look at real life not everyone is wrongly accused because of sexism). Rhaenyra shows that. Even at the last moments of her life she pretty much has zero remorse IMO.

For those reasons, I absolutely hate that the show is trying to redeem her. I hate how they cast Black actors to use them as human shields to make her look progressive, to lessen her atrocities, and even to make her something like her death look less atrocious.

Fans see Black people(the characters) supporting her vs. the mostly white greens they go that’s the progressive team(that ideology is so f*cked up). They even have Black fans supporting Rhaenyra because of all the Black secondary characters.

Never mind that these characters(who are race-bent) are being screwed over by the narrative, haven’t been presented in the best light, and have had their stories be rewritten to better serve Rhaenyra and make her look sympathetic/noble/just. The best who are treated way worse than their white book counterparts.

They added Ser Vaemond calling Rhaenyra a whore to justify Daemon killing him when in the books he rightfully calls her out and gets unjustly beheaded and feed to a dragon as a result on Rhaenyra’s orders. Then his sons and cousins get reprimanded by with some getting their tongues cut out, but that’s all been cut out.

Instead of showing that was loved or at least cared for by Daemon like in the books show Laena has been regulated to sorta second best(third best if you factor in the Viserys situation). She’s unloved and unwanted. Her suicide is made into a girlboss/empowering moment instead of being criticized for what it is away to make Rhaenyra’s death look better. Laena’s character is a walking stereotype(disposable Black girlfriend, look it up).

The audience eats it up of course and instead of calling out making her into a stereotype they are upset that the show did not make the non-canon throuple situation happen so they could get more brownie points for their I love Black people, I'm not a racist, I just don't want that Black person who isn't a plot device on the show act.

(I’m calling it non-canon cause you can’t only use the word fond to support a relationship, especially when you claim that word means nothing when it comes to Dettles which has more evidence than a single word).

Even Laenor has been made into a deadbeat dad. Corlys looks stupid. The girls have been given nothing to do. Addam’s whole purpose is to scarifice himself for Rhaenyra which is why they are highlighting him so much.

It’s absolutely disgusting.

I have no idea what they are going to do with Nettles, a character who doesn’t need to be race-bent cause she’s already Black, but based on their track record it could be terrible(I’m holding out hope though). She shouldn’t be treated like she’s just some whore or Daemon's mistress. She has her own plot, she’s loved by, and she’s one of the few survivors of the dance(and one of two dragonriders).

If the show was decent at all they’d do the right thing and show her as the multifaceted character she is and not regulate her into another stereotype(I guess they’d go the Jezebel route).

I totally get where you are coming from on the racism aspect. This is obviously lost by most though. Hell, most in the fandom are racist themselves, but skirt by because they like this show using the Black characters as human shields. It's a circus.

And no one is going to take this rant seriously since you went a little too far. All they are going to focus on is you calling Emma ugly, which again was uncalled for, but I get the essence of it.

#bnasks #bnask #anti hotd #venting dragon show addition

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h4nn4hra · 1 year

Text

Incorrect quotes

I kind of made this for more brotherly content between Will and Gilan but cralt somehow managed to sneak in, so there's also a bit of that.

These mostly fit a specific au but I'm not gonna explain that here. Let me know if you want it though.

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Gilan: Which is correct, seven and five IS thirteen, or seven and five ARE thirteen?

Will: Neither.

Will: Because it's twelve.

---

Gilan: Dom or sub?

Will: I guess Domino's, since I don't go to Subway that much. Don't see why you'd put them in the same category though

---

Gilan: I need you to come meet me, and I need you to come alone.

Will: And I need you to be less vague and weird.

---

Gilan: I know this isn’t going to end well and I don’t care. So don’t you try and stop me, Will!

Will: I wasn’t stopping you. I was asking if you had a spare camera so I can record this.

---

Gilan: I’m so excited!

Will: We’re gonna have the best costumes, get the most candy...

Gilan: And have the biggest stomach aches ever!

Will: Yeah!

---

Gilan: This bloodline ends with me.

Will: That's the fanciest way I've ever heard someone say "I'm gay".

---

Gilan: What happened?!

Will: Do you want the long version or the short version?

Gilan: Sh-short??

Will: Shit's f*cked.

Gilan: Okay, long.

Will: Shit's very f*cked.

---

Gilan: Let's just agree to both say we're sorry on the count of three.

Gilan: One... two... three.

Will: ...

Gilan: ...

Gilan: See, now I'm just disappointed in both of us.

---

Gilan: Hey Will, can you give me the opposite of these words?

Gilan: Always, Coming, From, Take, Me, Down.

Will: Never, Going, To, Give, You-

Will: The f***ing satisfaction.

---

Gilan, throwing a pokeball at Will: Will, I choose you!

Will, not looking up from their book and catching it: You need an Ultra ball to catch this Legendary Pokémon.

---

Gilan: Who hurt you?

Will: *snorting* What, do you want a list?

Gilan: ...Yes, actually.

---

Will : Here comes the lightning!

Will , whispering: You've got to imagine it coming out my fingertips, wherein I am an almighty wizard.

Crowley: Ok, currently imagining that. Hmm, not bad. Not bad at all.

---

Gilan: You look mentally ill.

Will : I am. Let’s go.

---

Gilan: Guys, they're definitely prepared for us. They even have a training model of our brand new top-secret stealth helicopter.

Will : No you idiot, that’s ours we crashed!

Gilan: Oh yeah. I guess that makes more sense

---

Crowley: Hey Halt, I’ve got an idea for how to solve this.

Halt, pulling out a shotgun: Yeah?

Crowley: Wh- No! That’s not the idea, Halt!

---

Crowley: Ow!

Halt: What’s wrong?

Crowley: I have this weird pain right above my eyebrow.

Halt: It’s called a stress headache. I got my first one when I was four.

---

Kidnapper: I have your partner.

Will: What? I don't have a partner...

Kidnapper: Then who just called me a lowlife and spit in my face?

Will: Oh my god, you have Gilan.

---

*Crowley and Will are in a car teetering on the edge of a cliff*

Crowley: oh my god, Will , backwards!

Will : Really, Crowley? I thought I might go forwards into the river, I thought that would be a fun thing to do.

Crowley: THIS REALLY AIN'T THE TIME FOR SARCASM.

---

Crowley: Where are your parents?

Will : What are parents?

Crowley: That’s just about the saddest thing I've ever heard.

---

Halt: I don't want to fight you!

Crowley: I wouldn't want you to fight me either!

---

Gilan: When you've been on the internet for as long as I have, you develop thick skin.

Will : Navy blue isn't your color.

Gilan: Navy blue brings out my eyes you little shit *Chases after Will *

---

Gilan: Do you even know what an amulet is?

Will : Of course I do! I eat amulets sometimes. I like the ones with cheese and onions!

Gilan: Will , those are omelettes.

Will : Oh. Then I’ve got nothing.

---

Will : Wanna get out of here and grab a bite to eat.

Horace: I don’t usually eat with losers.

Will : Neither do I but I asked you, didn’t I?

---

Will: Do you think different paints have different tastes?

Gilan : They do.

Halt: ...Why did you say that with such certainty?

---

Crowley: Not gonna lie, I'm kind of afraid of Will...

Halt: As you should be.

Crowley: No, for real, they're kind of-

Halt: As. You. Should. Be.

---

Halt: Sorry, I'm late to the party. I've been doing things.

Crowley, entering in an unbuttoned shirt: I got caught up doing things too.

Will: Wow, Halt was late too! What a coincidence!

---

Halt: *raises eyebrows*

Crowley: *screams* Put one down!

Halt: *raises one eyebrow*

Crowley: ah, yes, that better.

---

Will: *walking around disappointed after visiting an aquarium*

Gilan : Will, what did you think a tiger shark was?

---

Will: How do tall people people possibly sleep at night when the blanket can't possibly cover you?

Gilan : Will, it's four o'clock in the morning.

Will: So, you can't sleep, huh? Is it because of the blanket?

---

Gilan : I sleep with a gun under my pillow.

Will: I sleep with a knife.

Crowley: Both of you are pathetic.

Gilan : Oh yeah? What do you sleep with?

Crowley: Halt.

---

Crowley: We call that a traumatic experience.

Crowley, turning to Gilan : Not a "bruh moment".

Crowley, turning to Halt: Not "sadge".

Crowley, turning to Will: And DEFINITELY not an "oof LMAO".

---

Halt: That's ridiculous, Crowley doesn't have a crush on me.

Will: Yes they do.

Gilan : Yes they do.

Crowley: Yes I do.

---

Will: *eating a cinnamon roll*

Gilan: Cannibalism.

Will: *confused chewing noises*

---

Halt: Yesterday, I overheard Will saying “Are you sure this is a good idea?” and Crowley replying “Trust me,” and I have never moved from one room to another so quickly in my life.

---

Officer: What’s your name?

Gilan, whispering to Halt:Can I tell them my real name?

Halt: No!

Gilan: I’m… Halt.

Halt, whispering to themselves: The ONE TIME they get my name right…

---

Crowley: Guess what I'm about to get!

Halt: On my nerves.

---

Will: Someone’s trying to break in. Call the cops!

Gilan: *loads shotgun* I got this.

Will: Last week you fell up the stairs, what do you mean-

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

Hope you liked it :)

#gilan davidson #will treaty #crowley meratyn #halt o'carrick #cralt #horace altman #Will Treaty and Gilan Davidson are brothers #ranger's apprentice #ranger apprentice #ra #john flanagan

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honey-minded-hivemind · 8 months

Text

I've done a Backstory!Post! for the first of my currently mentioned platonic yandere favorites... now I think it is time for the next one. To begin with, we had how Logan Howlett/Wolverine met his bby... so that means Victor Creed/Sabretooth is next! Let's begin this second Backstory!Post:

• Victor has not had a pretty life. Abused by his father, seen as a freak, hurt and cursed and hated, it wasn't a hard choice for him to decide to become the monster everyone expected him to be. It served them right. Everyone was the same, cowards and pigs, the lot of 'em. And if one was to survive, you had to be the meanest, the strongest, of the lot. He could count on his hand how many people he actually had an interest in.

• His bby is likely someone who surprises him. They are something unexpected, something different than the usual people he deals with. Maybe they are someone with a powerful mutation, or someone who happened to gain the upper hand on him. Maybe they have been dealt a similar hand to him, being hurt to such a degree that it leaves lasting wounds on their psyche... Either way, this bby isn't scared of him. For some reason, they don't see him as someone to revile or hate... if anything, they might be neutral, or even cordial, with him. For once, someone just treats him like a person.

• Their first meeting could be anywhere, really. Perhaps they meet on opposite ends of a fight... perhaps they are in the same group for the time being... for this scenario, I think they would both be held captive by someone. A scientist who wants to study different mutants and their abilities, and in turn make them into weapons, pawns, their own personal soldiers. This person is cruel and manipulative, playing their captives against each other, in an attempt to leave them unwilling to unite against them. Yet for the bby... they don't crack...

• And for the life of him, Victor can't figure out how they did it... how his bby stayed themself, unbroken and untamed... but no matter how they did it, he's not complaining... this is their origin story of meeting, after all, and of course his bby would turn out to be as unbreakable as he is...

• Of course it's his luck to get stuck in this situation. Another freak-of-the-week mad scientist wantin' to try their hand at mutant experimentation. Yep. Just his freakin' luck. And this one... this one is one f*cked up son uv a gun...

• You're not having a great time. Some nut-case is capturing and testing mutants... and you're one of the (un)lucky souls who got caught. Your mutation can only do so much, and this complete psycho has prepared for almost every ability there could be. All sorts of drugs, plenty of torture devices, not to mention the actual power-negating stuff... and this freak doesn't plan on stopping anytime soon. They want to break you, to squash you into nothing and program you and every other mutant here into their personal toys...

• And you happen to have gotten on their nerve this time. It's not like this is the first time you've tried... but this is the first time they actually showed any outward signs of anger. They didn't take too well to you calling their work meaningless, a disgrace to science... so it seems they've finally decided to do something about you... So here you are, being dragged into a room and locked inside until they see fit to "test you" again... but... the thing is... you're not alone in there...

• Great... looks like they brought 'im some fresh meat... Victor groans a little as he gets up. Chains hold him to the floor, shackled to a thick metal cuff around each of his wrists. D*mn it... he can't even leave his side of this prison. And he takes a good look at what the lab rats brought 'im... and he isn't very impressed. It's a kid, that much he can tell... one who looks roughed up quite a bit... heh. Seems like someone made the doc mad.

• "Heh. Looks like we're gunna be stuck here fer a while, huh, whelp? Why don't'cha come closer, so we can get better acquainted?" He watches them, as they take in their new surroundings. The fresh meat winces as they move, but, they do approach him... yet they stay just out of reach... and then ask if he's okay...

• What? Is the whelp drugged er somethin'? They seem to realize what they just asked, and rub at their neck, looking sheepish. They point out that it's a stupid question, but that they are concerned. About him. "Uh, whelp. Ya realize ya should be more worried 'bout yerself, right? The doc must be rather p*ssed with ya ta throw ya in here with me." He lets out a cackle, then regrets it almost immediately when his chest aches with every breath. D*mn that f*cking *sshole doctor, professor, whatever the h*ll they claim to be! The whelp ain't the only one who earned the doc's wrath... whatever the loon gave him, it inhibits his healin' ability...

• "I guess the doc doesn't really like us, eh? This must be "special time-out" fer us, huh, fresh meat?" He sighs, his ribs aching with the motion. The kid hasn't stopped looking at him, but... it's not with fear, or contempt... if anything... they actually look worried fer 'im... They shuffle their feet uneasily, but he can't smell fear on them. None in the least. Blood, sure. Sweat, yep. But not a trace of panic or hate. Huh.

• You watch your cell-mate with concern. He's a giant. Chains hold him back, limiting his movement and leaving him trapped to the back of the cold room. Dark, dried blood covers him, and you can see wounds where the cuffs rubbed against his wrists. Not to mention the bruises coloring patches of his skin splotches of greenish-tinged black. He looks dangerous, deadly... but you stay near, asking if he wants something to eat...

• "Ya realize there ain't any food here, don't'cha, fresh meat? Unless yer offerin' ta be a sacrifice," he huffs out. But you just chuckle, and produce something hidden within the fold of your sleeve... it's a squashed protein bar... but... it's food...

• You ask the man if he doesn't mind that this is what you were able to hide on you. Then promptly explain that it won't taste very well, but it should sate some of his hunger. That he needs it just as much as you or anyone else here needs it. You notice the shackles restrict his arms to the point he can't lift them to his face... possibly as a method to force him to rely on the scientist and their minions for everything... you ask if he's still hungry, and that you're going to have to hold it for him while he eats, if he wants it...

• "'Kay, then. I promise, I won't bite ya. Scout's honor. Now, can ya come over here? I'm starvin'." He waits patiently as you approach him, bringing the much-needed food with you. You open it, holding it up for him to eat, still no signs of panic or fear. He can't help but chuckle a little at that. Looks like ta him, you're one tough little whelp. Maybe you're worth keepin' 'round...

• He takes a bite from the offered food, and you give him a soft, tired smile...

• "Not bad... hmm... thanks, whelp. I think we're gunna get along just fine..." With that, he devours what's left of the food... this moment is how you met Victor... and he never would've guessed that he'd end up with someone like you as his bby...

#honeycomb thoughts #platonic yandere marvel #platonic yandere x reader #yandere x-men #yandere platonic marvel #platonic yandere sabretooth #Backstory!Posts!

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lemonluvgirl · 10 months

Text

Drinking Games

Ok, so this is a hard one and I think it will be very apparent to all who read why I decided to not include it in the story. Set in the Golden Cages universe after Katniss' rescue. It begins with the idea of everyone discussing what age they lost their virginity. They are sitting around, drinking some contraband liquor they found and just shooting the shit. But then hijacked Katniss decides to come out and play!

It's just 100% angst and heartbreak. But also drama. SO MUCH DRAMA.

trigger warnings for mentions of loss of virginity, brain-washing, mind tricks, and really f*cked up situations.

“Fine. 18. District 12. Victor’s Village.”

“Better late than never!”

“Must have been true love, if you waited that long.”

They pass me the bottle, I stare at it dumbly.

I feel a hollow pain, like something sharp rattling around in my empty chest at this comment. For a moment I can’t decide whether I want to drink from it or not anymore.

But then I think of the horrors of the day, the perils in the future. And the only thing I am certain of is that whatever the future holds, I will never have a night like that night she climbed in my window again. She and I are broken beyond repair. And all I want is to forget. So I take a big swig and try not to cough as the liquor burns through me on the way down.

Despite my efforts though, I do cough, right at the very end. And I wait for them to start teasing and cracking jokes, but everyone is suddenly quiet. I look around and see their eyes glued to a spot almost directly behind me, a little to my right. And I feel her presence a split second before I hear her voice.

“Same.” She says as she takes a seat a few spaces down from me. “At least I think so. I guess I don’t know. I was hoping someone could vouch for me, my memory being what it is.” She adds as an afterthought. Then she cocks her head towards me, staring directly into my eyes, and blinks at me, emotionlessly. Waiting for me to agree or contradict her. But I’m so startled by her sudden appearance, I can’t speak.

“I guess that’s a no. So, it was you then?” She comments without concern, as she swivels her head in Gale’s direction. Their eyes meet, and he stares at her incredulously.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. How can you not remember anything about that at all?” He replies in a flabbergasted manner after she continues to stare at him expectantly.

She widens her eyes in what can only be described as cold calculation and then pins him with a sardonic smirk.

“The problem isn’t that I don’t remember anything at all. It's the opposite. There are about a dozen different versions in my head that all contradict each other. Sometimes it's you. Sometimes it's him,” She cocks her head over in my direction but doesn’t look at me, “Sometimes it's even him.” She says in an amused voice and she looks over at Deen.

Deen looks like he’s going to be sick. Gale’s eyes narrowed at her harshly. I feel dreadfully numb. What the hell is she thinking, talking about all this so openly? No one else mentioned specifics. No one else was bringing faces and names into this. The atmosphere shifts, completely, to a darker, more unbelievably horrific tone.

“They liked messing with that memory. Picked it apart until the pieces were so tiny they blew away like dust in the wind. The overall theme I believe was that I had some kind of incest fetish.” She says as she laughs darkly, so coldly it sends a shiver down my spine. Who the hell is this woman? The feeling of sitting next to a stranger who wore the face of the girl I had loved all my life came back then. I was consumed by the surreal horror of it.

“You know, the whole cousin thing.” She tells Gale with a pointed look. “Then the surrogate brother,” She elaborated as she looked over at Deen again who now seems to have gotten over being nauseated and moved on to being pissed. But he wasn’t looking at her, he was staring straight at the ground with such a furious gaze.

“Then of course they tried to make some connection between the blond hair and blue eyes he and my sister share. The implication being I wanted to sleep with my own flesh and blood sister and used a substitute.” She says as she glances at me quickly. And my numbness rushes away and is replaced by instant revulsion so strong I have to fight hard against the compulsion to regurgitate. Her sister? Prim? They had tried to taint the memory of her love for Prim.

I felt sick, so disgusted by this entire conversation. But she seemed completely unfazed, and unconcerned with how uncomfortable she was making everyone feel.

“So, what do we do here? Compare dates and times?” She says in a joking voice, but it's obvious no one finds this funny. She laughs anyway. Then Deen is on his feet in a flash, with burning anger in his eyes as he locks gazes at her. But when he speaks he doesn’t yell. He talks slowly and enunciates every word.

“No. Never. Not once. Not even close. We were never like that. You were never like that, do you hear me? Fuck those pricks! I hope they all rot in hell!” He says finally raising his voice to a shout, and he looks in the direction of the faraway Capitol. He breathes harshly for a minute, before stalking off towards the woods.

Everything is quiet, in the wake of Deen’s angry confession. There is a brief flicker that could pass for relief that rushes across her face as she watches Deen’s back retreat farther into the forest. But then it's gone and she’s turning back to Gale.

“One down, two to go. Care to weigh in?” She asks him in an eerily blank manner. Her face is devoid of emotion again. It's painful, how cold she sounds, how unimportant it seems to her. She could be asking about the weather or what he had for lunch.

He stares at her, hard for almost a full minute. And there is such a fit of resentful anger in his gaze, bordering on hatred. But she seems completely unfazed by it. She just waits for his reply patiently.

“You sure you wanna do this now? Like this?” He asks her, in a cold detached voice.

She nods. “I’m getting tired of trying to figure it out on my own.”

“Fine.” He says through gritted teeth. Then he mimics her head cocking gesture in the direction Deen took off in. “Same. I don’t know what the hell they did to you. I have no idea how they could change any one person so much. But he was right. You were never like this. I can count on one hand the number of times you and I kissed in the seven years we knew each other. That’s not some lie to make you feel better or to save you or anyone from feeling uncomfortable. It's just the damn truth. And you know what else is the truth? This is not you!”

“And who gets to decide that? You?” She replies with a laugh. It's bitter and mocking. His nostrils flare, and he opens his mouth to say something but then thinks better of it. He closes his mouth, shakes his head at her, and holds his hand out to Joanna for the other bottle.

“Mind if I borrow that?” He asks.

“Go ahead. I’d say you earned it.” She says quietly and passes him the bottle.

“Thanks.” He mutters and stomps off in the direction that Deen left.

I barely have a second to digest what just happened, and what Gale said, had they only kissed a handful of times? Before she zeros in on me.

“I guess we’re down to you by process of elimination.” She says as she looks at me. Her gaze is so hollow, so empty it doesn’t even contain sadness or humiliation or anger. She’s just….blank.

“I guess.” I finally say, not knowing what the hell she wants me to say exactly. She couldn’t want a play-by-play, could she?

She leaned back as if assessing me. And drummed her fingers on her knee. The icy look in her eyes made my skin crawl.

“Well, you gonna cop to it or what?”

I let out a startled laugh, shocked at her words, at her cavalier attitude. Even Joanna wasn’t this emotionless about sex. Joanna at least talked with a wicked gleam in her eye or an impish smile. But...there was nothing underneath Katniss’ gaze.

And it makes me...hate her. I genuinely, really, hate her, for the first time. Here she was putting our private lives on display again. Dredging up the past, making me and Gale and even Deen seem like interchangeable pegs. I knew that it wasn’t her fault she couldn’t remember what happened. I knew she must somewhere, somehow underneath that mile-thick cold exterior, feel some kind of loss, some kind of pain. Yet, I hated her anyway. For taking this precious thing, this moment and memory that meant more to me, than I could even describe, and cheapening it. Ruining it, with her brash questions and her nonchalant attitude, and her fucking despicable apathy.

“Sure. You want details?” I ask her, anger fully setting in now. She nods. I pointed an accusatory finger at the middle of her chest.

“18. Victor’s village. October 29th, 11 pm. My house. My bed. There was a half moon that night. You climbed in my window. You wore dark blue flannel pajamas, with little white buttons on them. You said you wanted to talk, to apologize for being such a shitty friend. I didn’t want to hear it. I tried to kick you out. You wouldn’t leave. You told me you were sorry for lying to me for so long-”

“What was I lying about?”

“Everything just about. You were never straight with me about what you had with Gale, or how you felt after the Games or any of it. You especially weren't honest about how much you wanted me, and for how long. Almost as much as I wanted you. That’s how it finally happened. Only because for once, you lowered yourself enough to my level to tell me the truth. And like a pathetic idiot, I jumped at the first fucking sign of recognition from you. God. Even now, everything is still on your terms. Always on your fucking terms. And it always will be, except now there’s not even a chance. There’s no way in hell we’ll ever even be friends is there?”

She stares at me, with such an unreadable expression. It makes me feel like someone turned on a paper shredder and started to feed my heart into it.

“Don’t worry about answering that. That’s one thing they didn’t change. Even after all they did to try and erase you, they couldn’t change that. Katniss Everdeen never fails rip out my fucking heart every time she has the chance.” I slam the bottle down in front of her and she flinches, just barely.

But her face is still unreadable. It's like I didn’t even speak. I get up, as quickly as I can and start walking as fast as I can. Just wanting, needing to get away from her empty grey eyes. But I know I can’t escape them. They’ll just find me in my dreams. She always finds me. Still, I try to outrun the overwhelming despair that is close on my heels as I leave, not looking back.

#golden cages #thg #fanfiction #everlark fanfiction #angst #hurt #no comfort #just pain #ouch #lemonluvwrites

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yourtoradorasextendedwarranty · 4 months

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See this is why I can't stand default liberals.

Fact is looking at things HONESTLY what do we see?

A man that has not been charged with anything. And you can say "OH WELL HE'S BEEN INDICTED". Ok? You can Indict a ham sandwich. What's your point?

Fact is States rights matter yes. But they do NOT supercede the US Federal Constitution. Especially not for a Federal Election. ESPECIALLY not when the person in question has not been charged with anything. And now SCOTUS has more or less decided to take the case as we knew they would. And it's very likely that end up being the case that the 14th does NOT in fact include the President.

Because let's be honest for a moment. Dems do NOT know what it would mean if they could just take Trump off the ballot for no reason without charge. That precedent? That would mean that Rep run states could take off Joe Biden. Why? Well because he has sold us out to China and other foreign nations, and has accepted bribes from other countries, in order to keep getting money through his son.

If you ask me, that might as well be considered insurrection. AND that's not also including letting wave after wave of people swarm this country ILLEGALLY, and then using our tax dollars to give them housing, food, and an allowance. When we can't even take care of our own homeless or poor. Hell that's more than insurrection. That's TREASON. So all red states or states that are purple but headed by Red politicians should strip Biden off the ballot. Oh would that bother you? Why?

No one has any proof at all that Trump was associated with the rather small scale riot. Other than, "I believe that he did it because I hate him". Trump would have never allowed it for 2 reasons.

It would make him look bad and make him look weak

Them doing what they did means they were not paying attention to him. And given that he loves attention, my guess is that he is pissed people ignored him.

This ALSO not counting the fact that he explicitly said be peaceful and ALSO ALSO said that the Reps are the party of law and order. That is not a "Go raid the capital". And unarmed no less.

Fact is and remains. This is not a states rights issue. And states rights DO NOT come before the Constitution. Because if they did, then California could ban free speech, implement slavery, and ban guns. But because we are FOUNDED on those documents, they can't just ignore them. What's more, again, this is in regards to a federal election. Not a local election. Meaning if any state strips a candidate off at all, they are actually in violation of the law. And could be considered meddling in elections. The POINT of the 14th amendment was not for the president. It was to ensure that no issues arose for state electorates. Because those are NOT federally elected. They are locally elected.

And even supposing that a local politician DID get pinned with this, they'd have to be found guilty by a court of doing so before they could even be removed. If not, then it would stand to reason any opposition at any point could accuse the other side of having "Committed Insurrection" and then the courts, who'd side with the ruling party, could just go, "Yup". And have the other party removed. Making their state effectively a fascist regime under monopoly rule. And you think that's all well and good......right up until infiltrators come in and flip the script. Then you're the ones that'll get f*cked in the end.

Think logically about sh*t. Because when you don't you end up shooting yourself in the foot, and then you blame everyone else BUT yourself. And it's frankly pathetic.

#discourse #twitter #discussion

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apilgrimpassingby · 5 months

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Actually enslaving people is wrong because it’s a fucked up thing to do, and for centuries Christian’s didn’t get the memo on that one so realizing it’s a fucked up and horrible thing to do doesn’t come from ‘Christian ethics’

Also your blog is a complete eyesore

Slavery is f*cked up? That would have been news to the Greco-Roman world, many African societies throughout history, the Chinese well into the 20th century, the Ottoman Empire and most other Muslim societies, India in many periods of its history, the Norse, many Native American peoples and quite a few people today.

Slavery is so abhorrent to us that we don't realise that the correct question isn't "why does a given society have slavery"? Having slavery is the default for societies. Rather, we should ask why we don't have it.

Christianity, in large part.

Gregory of Nyssa, 4th century bishop and theologian, was the first known person to propose the abolition of slavery. While the other Church Fathers saw that as a pipe dream due to how pervasive it was, they almost all thought that slavery was a symptom of a fallen world and would disappear in the New Creation (and it largely did in the Byzantine Empire, the heartland of eastern Christianity). Whereas to the Greeks and Romans it was just an inherent and indisputable fact of life.

Over in the West, the Norse slave trade was primarily opposed by Christian clergy, and mainly on the religious grounds that it was immoral to treat fellow Christians like this (keep in mind that in their ideal world, everyone would be Christian). When slavery was revived by the Spanish, it was consistently opposed by a Dominican friar, Bartolomé de las Casas, using arguments based on the image of God and the works of Thomas Aquinas. When the Spanish crown agreed to a debate on slavery between him and fellow clergyman Juan Ginés de Sepúlveda, Casas stuck to his arguments from the Christian tradition and Sepúlveda primarily argued from Aristotle.

With the transatlantic slave trade most people are familiar with, the opposition primarily came from Quakers and Evangelicals using arguments based on the image of God in all people. And they eventually succeeded, and Britain hence used its naval muscle to suppress slavery in the colonies and coerce the Ottomans into abolishing it; the sense this created of an Islamic institution being uprooted by foreign infidels led to the rise of Islamic fundamentalism (as such, it's hardly surprising that Islamic State have reinstituted it).

Whenever I have not provided a link, it came from one of the following three books, chiefly the first of them - Dominion: The Making of the Western Mind by Tom Holland (the classicist, not the actor), A Brief History of Life in the Middle Ages by Martyn Whittock and The Bright Ages: A New History of Medieval Europe by David M. Perry and Matthew Gabriele.

I agree my blog could probably do with more of a visual component. If anyone has any suggestions please let me know.

#answered asks #history #christianity #seriously #every adult should read “dominion”#regardless of what you believe #this book will make you think

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dramioneasks · 10 months

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Hiiii is there a fic where hermione is the f*cked up one and dracos the opposite? I always found fics where hermione helping draco, was wondering if theres a fic where draco helps hermione?

Probably with drugs? Trauma? And all those heavy stuff

Fleeting Warmth of Fire - 1Artic_arsenic - E, WIP - The world is a better place with Voldemort defeated. The Ministry is now working for the betterment of all wizards. Everyone is moving forward in their life. Well, all but Hermione. Plagued with war flashbacks and night terrors she is stuck in survival mode while the world calmly moves around her. Not being able to sleep or cope she luckily overhears a solution to all her ailments. Dragon’s Fire. The newest street potion that may help her move forward in life.

How We Imagined Light By: horcruxnumber8 - M, one-shot - The war is over, and while the rest of the Wizarding World drowns their sorrows in champagne and celebratory balls, Hermione finds comfort in an unconventional way…and with the most unexpected person. D/Hr, EWE.

Stillness - ittyxbitty - M, 32 chapters - Hermione didn’t know how to get over the war. She thought returning to Hogwarts would help but after a break down the most unlikely person helped her up and taught her that it was ok to not be ok.

Of Kings and Queens by galfoy - M, 26 Chapters - Hermione has a bad habit. Draco has a big problem. The universe has one heck of a plan.

Diary of a Songbird - idreamofdraco - M, 28 chapters - Hermione Granger has a secret and Draco Malfoy is curious. Why is she so dependent on her diary, and what happened to make her that way? Can Hermione trust herself with a person like Malfoy, or will he only make things worse? Compliant up to OotP.

-Lisa

#anonymous #addiction #alcohol abuse #drug use #alcohol #psychological trauma #hermione: vulnerable

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brotherhoodoftheblade · 8 months

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So finally I read Voyager (by that I mean, I actually read the whole thing this time, and not just John and Jamie’s chapters lol) for the first time in five or six years and I’d been meaning to jot down my impressions of it (while I still have them somewhat fresh to mind) but, typically, I’ve kept forgetting and getting distracted by other stuff. (I actually finished it nearly a month ago, but again, my mind forever is fluff on the wind it seems. *sigh*)

Since I really don’t want to end up writing another another long-winded essay about the book I’ll attempt to keep it brief. lol

Rereading Voyager once again made clear why Jamie/Claire has always been much more easily shippable for me than Jamie/John. (Even though my shipping of J/C is low-key to negligible tbh.) It’s not because the latter doesn’t have a very interesting (if ultimately too toxic for me) dynamic (even if the fascinating quality of their relationship is sometimes akin to being unable to tear your eyes away from a car crash). And it’s not because I’m too much of a puritanical pearl-clutcher to appreciate to the dark allure of a so-called toxic ship (trust me, I have far more f*cked up ships than J/J lmao).

The main reason Jamie and Claire work for me, despite the fact that they can often be pretty batshit in their dynamic, is because they’re the SAME KIND of batshit...about EACH OTHER...EQUALLY. 😂

Jamie/John just don’t have that. The batshit obsessiveness is way too one-sided. I mean, if they’re not equally in unhinged, all-consuming love with each other then what’s even the point? lol Such an unbalanced nature in a toxic ship just doesn’t sail far with me, and after a while just has me looking at the undervalued party wishing they’d locate their self-respect, get a grip, and get a damn life already! (And, yes, I’m looking at you, John. *weary sigh*)

Also, rereading the infamous “take your hand off me or I’ll kill you” scene between John and Jamie at Ardsmuir reaffirmed my initial impression of it back when I’d first read it years ago (and let’s be honest, between ADHD and depression brainfog, I don’t really begin to fully trust my own memory of books until I’ve read them a few times). That it’s wholly unethical for the governor of a prison to proposition any of his prisoners is indisputable to me, but even putting that aside, the whole exchange still came off pretty questionably to me just on its own.

Jamie did nothing whatsoever to indicate that he might be receptive to that sort of attention from John. It’s like when you find yourself suddenly hit on apropos of nothing, despite having given no sign of encouragement whatsoever -- and at an inappropriate time to boot. I mean, seriously, how did John think propositioning Jamie in the wake the revelation of his grief over the loss of the love of his life was a remotely considerate time to be doing that? (If someone had tried to take advance of me in such a vulnerable moment after I’d shared something so personal with them, I’d have been bloody annoyed!)

Their exchange of shared grief was the first moment of genuine trust extended between them, a gift really, especially on Jamie’s part, and John thought that was a good time to make a move on him? And more importantly, where’s the logic in it?

Jamie had just been talking about how much he loved his wife - a woman - while having never done anything to give the impression that he was remotely attracted to John (in fact, the impression given was much the opposite most of the time), so how then did it make the remotest sense for John to risk exposing himself like that?? Especially when John’s always emphasizing how crucial it was for men like himself to be careful around other men and not make any dangerous assumptions. Extreme caution is always the order of the day when it comes to situations like this, so wouldn’t it at least have made more sense to wait until he felt more certain of the lay of the land?

Except with Jamie he already knew perfectly well he had no need to practice the same kind of caution he would’ve with any other gentleman. Jamie was a convicted Jacobite with no standing whatsoever. He couldn’t have spoken out about John even if he’d wanted to -- his word was worthless against him. (And of course, it’s in much the same tone of imbalanced power that John carried forward their strained friendship under duress during Jamie’s years at Helwater.)

Of course, despite John’s awareness of the disproportionate amount of power he held over Jamie, his intentions, at heart, weren’t remotely malicious. (He’s certainly no Black Jack Randall!) Yet, it’s still the appearance of impropriety that stands with him. Mainly because intellectually he knows better than to do half the stuff he does, but he just gets caught up in the intensity of his feelings in the moment and ends up doing impulsively reckless shit. It’s the story of his life at this point. :/ (I mean, just think how often his “brave” impulsivity or his injudicious tongue has ended up landing him straight into hot water, while instances where cravenness stilled his tongue could’ve changed the course of his life for the better if he’d only had the courage to speak from his heart.)

Another thing that stood out to me was the characterization of Frank Randall in the book in comparison to the general attitudes of animosity he receives in the fandom.

Now I can’t say I strongly ship either Jamie/Claire or Frank/Claire (though I’ve certainly found both interesting and likeable at times), so I’m pretty neutral when it comes to any shipping biases on their parts. I do feel that it’s stanning Jamie and Claire so much that’s garnered Frank so much unwarranted hatred. I mean, he’s not a saint (none of them are lol) but he also couldn’t be farther from the devil. The worst thing charge I can legitimately lay at his feet is being a racist (though it’s unfortunately pretty understandable given his age and the time period - after all, only the people who were rarely ahead of their time could legitimately have been said to have not been racist at all during a time when it was the cultural norm). 💀

But aside from the racism, Frank was a far better man than most. How many men would’ve taken Claire back after she turned up three years later, pregnant with another man’s child, whom she had married and fallen in love with even though she was already married to Frank??? And not only that, loved that child as much as if she’d been his own biological daughter? Despite the fact that just the sight of Brianna was a constant flesh and blood reminder that Claire had betrayed him? And that Claire was still in love with Jamie despite having returned to Frank. (And he even supported her going to medical school - something a lot of husbands in that time wouldn’t have done.)

And yeah, I know he cheated on her - and that’s what so many rake him over the coals for - but under the circumstances I find it kind of hard to blame him. Did Frank not deserve to be with someone who actually loved him? Unlike Claire, who only ever came back to him in body but not in spirit, and certainly not in heart! She spent all those years being emotionally unfaithful to him first, even though he was the one who’d chosen to do the honourable thing by standing by her and raising a child that wasn’t even his. It takes two people to ruin a marriage, and the efforts of both in concert to make things work. And Claire couldn’t have made it clearer that her heart was no longer in their relationship -- and that wasn’t Frank’s fault.

And the final thing that really stood out to me: the rampant fatphobia in Outlander. I mean, I’d noticed it here and there but hadn’t paid it a great deal of attention because it mostly seemed like isolated occurrences scattered throughout the books (and as I’ve said before, I haven’t fully read all of the OL books from cover to cover yet - mostly the parts with John, Percy, or others closely related to them).

But reading the whole of Voyager brought back to me how often I’d noticed similar fatphobic sentiments expressed at other times, and just how frequently, in particular, DG uses fatness to emphasize the repulsiveness of villainous characters (like with Geillis when her character is reintroduced in Jamaica). And, it’s such a common sentiment even just in passing conversation that you’ve probably already noticed it (or if you somehow haven’t, I bet you’ll start noticing it a lot more now).

Even in her parting advice to Brianna, Claire goes, “Try not to get fat”, and I was like ‘WHATTT?? She’s abandoning her daughter (who’s also lost her father and has no other relatives) and you may never see her again, and THAT’S the parting motherly life advice you have for the poor girl??? ‘Try not to get fat’?!?!” Seriously? 🙄

DG can shove her fatphobia up her arse with the rest of her toxic predilections, for all I care.😐

#my random ramblings #Jamie Fraser #Claire Beauchamp #Lord John Grey #Frank Randall #anti diana gabaldon #cw racism #cw fatphobia

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overandunderland · 1 month

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"Legend will do."

A Seeker & The Warrior Excerpt

(Team OverUnder: Gregor, Luxa, Owen & Aiden are witnessing a bloodsport occuring in The Coliseum in a place of impossible conception. In their search for Hazard, they stumble upon one who's rescue may just be pivotal to fulfilling The Seekers Prophecy.)

It was wrong, barbaric even. Amidst the deafening roar of the crowd, Gregor absorbed the sights of the attendees with a sinking heart. They were cheering for more—more death, more blood, more carnage—even the children seemed thrilled by the barbarity that had just unfolded. As guards entered the arena to remove the mangled remains, small jeers pierced the air. The vibrations from the crowd's stomping feet reverberated through Gregor's body. He cast a sideward glance at Owen, noting his rapidly bobbing knee as they sat together. Further down, Luxa's veil might have hidden her mouth, but the deep wrinkle in her brow spoke volumes. Unable to contain his disgust, Owen blurted out, "This is f*cked."

"This is senseless," agreed Aiden,

"These people are savages. This only proves that allying with the Gnawers is a spell for disaster—"

Luxa placed a hand on Aiden's knee, her gesture a silent plea for restraint. The coliseum, a vast and daunting structure, vibrated with the energy of its spectators. An area reserved for royalty, with a luxurious, throne-like chair at its center, remained conspicuously empty, highlighting the divide between the ruling elite and the common masses. This space, surrounded by a mix of intimidating Underlanders and Gnawers, buzzed with palpable tension.

From behind the regal seating, a man adorned in a fur lpelt emerged, commanding immediate attention. He scanned the arena, his presence silencing the crowd as he approached a metal spout at the front of the balcony. His bald head was studded with small gold rings that pierced his skin from the top of His head, down to the beginnings of his spine. The way the torches lit the arena his face appeared sunken in, eyes wide, as if peering from the dark shadows that was his face.

"My family, friends! Did I not promise you entertainment? Have I not delivered an unparalleled display of ferocity?" he bellowed, his voice echoing throughout the arena. The crowd responded with thunderous cheers.

Owen jumped at the volume of the voice, looking up in amazement to find large holes at the tops of each section of the arena. "How is this possible? Thought you said the Underlanders don't have electricity," he whispered to Gregor, who could only respond with a look of shared confusion. Luxa, too, seemed perplexed, her eyes wide with concern.

"Oh yes! Yes! And to my fine furred friends, do you not feel recognized? Understood?" the announcer continued, stretching his arms wide as if to embrace the adulation, basking in the cacophony of cheers, clicks, and squeaks from the Gnawers in the crowd.

""Our ultimate contest welcomes all comers! Valiant warriors, armed with sword and claw alike, who among you possesses the bravery to step forth? Who among you can claim the title of a TRUE WARRIOR?"

As the announcer spoke, Gregor felt a chill run down his spine, his thoughts racing with both fear and a morbid curiosity about the forthcoming "final challenge." Owen's expression hardened, a mix of anger and resolve etching his features, while Luxa's gaze remained fixed on the empty throne, her mind undoubtedly weaving through political implications and strategies. Aiden, ever the warrior, clenched his fists, the thrill of the challenge sparking a fire in his eyes, despite his earlier condemnation of the spectacle.

When the gates on the opposite end of the arena began their slow, ominous ascent, a dramatic scene unfolded. From the depths of the shadows, two rats and two humans emerged, their hands firmly gripping the ends of massive metal chains. With deliberate steps, they advanced toward the center of the arena, the sound of clanking chains accompanying their march. High above, dispersed among the eager crowd, several archers took position, their bows drawn and eyes narrowed in concentration. Aiden leaned toward Luxa, his voice a low murmur, "I count a handful."

Luxa, the epitome of regal composure, gave a silent nod in response, her intense gaze never straying from the scene before her. Despite her outward calm, her mind was undoubtedly a whirlwind of thoughts and strategies. A foreboding figure, shrouded in a large cloak and shackled by heavy chains around its ankles, slowly made its way out from the gate. The cloth it was draped in billowed and scraped against the ground, eliciting a chorus of intrigued murmurs from the crowd.

The announcer, seizing the moment with dramatic flair, clapped his hands and gestured expansively toward the audience. However, Gregor's attention was drawn elsewhere—not to the spectacle at hand, but to the announcer's attire, specifically his rat pelt. It evoked a sense of distant familiarity, stirring a memory he couldn't quite pinpoint.

"Hey, Luxa," he attempted, only to be promptly shushed by Aiden, whose focus remained unwaveringly on the unfolding spectacle.

The announcer's voice filled the arena, booming with enthusiasm, "A weapon of destruction, after my own heart! Imagine, if only I could boast as many Regalian lives taken as this beast has furs beneath his belt. And yet, despite his formidable appearance, his fur offers a surprising softness," the announcer brushed his cloak, a sleazy cheshire grin forming across his face. "A note to all my mateless Gnawers out there—pay close attention! Now, who among you is ready to meet the harbinger of death?"

As the reality of the situation dawned on Gregor, a silent wave of shock rippled through the royal contingent seated beside him. Abruptly, the chains were released, and the massive cloak was swiftly removed, unveiling the figure beneath—a large, scarred, rat. Its fur, incredibly short, seemed to be regrowing, and its body bore the marks of countless battles, with claw marks and sword scars that told stories of survival. It's color, tinged grey. One scar, in particular, resonated deeply with Gregor.

Luxa clasped her hands together, her stoic facade momentarily crumbling as she visibly trembled with emotion.

"I GIVE YOU, THE PEACEMAKER, THE LEGENDARY... RIP... RED!" the announcer declared.

The crowd's reaction was instantaneous, a thunderous applause erupting as the spectators' excitement soared. Faces turned, challenges whispered among friends, daring one another to confront the legend revealed before them.

"Oh geeze, Ripred," Gregor couldn't help but express, his voice tinged with a mix of awe and concern.

Owen, leaning forward for a better view, was struck by the gravity of the moment. Familiar with Ripred through Gregor's stories—Luxa's Gnawer bond, the peacemaker, a pivotal figure in The Banes' war—he found his emotions conflicted between excitement and worry.

The sight of Ripred, bound in shackles, made a profound statement. This was not the appearance of a volunteer or a willing participant. The grim reality of his condition, especially the closed left eye that remained unresponsive to the crowd's fervor, painted a stark picture. Yet, when Ripred's gaze locked with the announcer's, he flicked his tail, a gesture that demanded louder cheers, performing despite his dire circumstances.

Gregor's mind was a whirlwind of confusion and concern as he observed Ripred's daunting presence in the arena. Why was he here? What chain of events had led to the capture of such a formidable creature? Gregor scanned the coliseum, pondering if the lack of recognition from the other rats indicated that Ripred was unaware of their presenc. The notion unsettled him deeply.

"So," Gregor ventured, breaking the tense silence among his companions, "what exactly is the plan?" Owen's lips formed a tight line, a silent signal of the gravity of their situation, as his eyes flicked towards Luxa and Aiden.

'We shall free him. Aiden and I shall—" Luxa's voice, usually calm and commanding, was tinged with an edge of desperation.

"Woah," Gregor interjected, a plan already forming in his mind. "You think we're going to just waltz in there? Aiden's got our backs, sure, but you and I—"

And risk losing The Warrior? Absolutely not. The prophecy requires you to make it to the—" Luxa's whisper was harsh, a cutting reminder of the weight on their shoulders.

"You're SERIOUSLY pulling the prophecy card right now, Owen back m-"

But it was Owen's next move that halted everything. Scaling the barrier with a fluidity that contested the madness of his plan, he perched momentarily atop the railing, casting a final, determined look back at them. "Figure it out," he said, the weight of his words leaving no room for debate. Then, with his identity shrouded by the veil over his face, he leaped, disappearing into the arena's embrace.

"Your going to get yourself killed!" Gregor called out after Owen, his voice tinged with panic. His heart pounded against his ribcage, a mix of fear and adrenaline coursing through him. Was Owen out of his mind?

"Hmph, does your Sun drive all Overlanders to madness?" Aiden spat, incredulous at the recklessness, or perhaps, bravery in front of him.

The crowd, initially absorbed by the spectacle of Ripred, now buzzed with a mixture of confusion and excitement at the sight of a new challenger entering the arena. Murmurs and gasps rippled through the spectators, their focus shifting. Some leaned forward, eager for a closer look, while others exchanged bewildered glances, wondering at the identity of this bold, veiled figure who dared to interrupt the proceedings.

Luxa, gathering her composure, whispered urgently to Gregor and Aiden, "We must act now. Owen has given us a diversion, but we must be swift." Her gaze was steel, her voice a commanding whisper that spurred them into action.

As Gregor prepared to follow Luxa's lead, he couldn't shake the gnawing fear for Owen's safety. Yet, the resolve in Luxa's eyes and the urgency of their mission propelled him forward. The plan was clear: they would use this moment of distraction to free Ripred and escape the coliseum. But as Gregor glanced once more at the imposing figure of Ripred and then at Owen's determined back, he knew nothing about this plan was going to be simple.

The hush of anticipation fell over the arena as the announcer’s voice, thick with delight, cut through the tense silence. “An intriguing turn of events, my friends! An unknown challenger dares to enter our grand arena!” His slow, deliberate applause seemed to mock the gravity of the moment, echoing off the ancient stones.

Below, Owen shifted, his head tilting casually from side to side, the leather of his armor whispering with each movement. He locked eyes with Ripred, the legendary rat whose short fur stood on end, a clear sign of readiness for the battle to come. My p

"You smell young," Ripred taunted, his voice a grating rasp that filled the arena. "Did your parents not teach you the dangers of wandering so far from home? Or are they too cowardly, leaving their pup to fend for himself in a place like this? Better turn back while you still can."

The arena around them was a testament to countless battles fought and lost, a chaotic sprawl of obstacles both natural and man-made. Broken shields and discarded weapons littered the ground, creating a treacherous landscape that spoke of violence and valor. The air was thick with the scent of iron and earth, a silent witness to the blood spilled upon its soil. Owen couldn't discern if it was the taste in the air, or the inside of his cheek.

His gaze swept across this landscape of desolation before settling back on Ripred. He shrugged, an echo of a gesture that seemed oddly out of place I'm on the Underland's gloom. Ripred's head jerked back, a flicker of recognition—or was it confusion?—crossing his fearsome visage.

"You'd be hard-pressed to find them," Owen retorted, his voice steady. "You know how it goes, right?"

Ripred snorted, the sound echoing mockingly around them. "Aww, an orphan then. Has the harshness of life finally driven you to seek an end in my arena? I find little honor in dispatching a soul already defeated by despair, serves me no time." He perched him self on his back legs, showing off his full size.

Owen chuckled, a sound that seemed too light for the heavy air of the coliseum. "Trust me, you're going to provide us with all the time we need."

#gregor the overlander #the underland chronicles #fanfic #ripred the gnawer #ripred the rat #fan novel

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