#who would he be if he diminished all his efforts up until this point with a thought that would plunge him into the blight he wishes to cure

[gemkun]

@ruinlost said : gimme the ratio hcs 🎤,how does he really feel about not being recognized by nous

      ⸻       pestered   by   many   ,   it   is   an   inevitability   for   this   question   to   be   asked   yet   again.   an   opinion   sorely   sought   for   ,   where   failure   awaits   those   who   coax   with   bribery   ,   and   others   will   extract   no   more   than   a   mere   expression   framed   in   neutrality.   whether   he   don   alabaster   or   expose   his   own   flesh   and   bone.

  but   in   the   solace   of   his   chambers   ,   where   not   a   soul   can   penetrate   past   the   privacy   his   walls   offer.   there   ,   he   can   mull   over   the   absence   of   nous   and   his   gaze.   the   astral   computer   ascended   to   aeonhood   ,   upheld   as   as   the   bestower   of   all   knowledge   ,   the   droidhead   that   could   enlighten   the   most   ignorant   and   foul   of   creatures.   an   ailment   that   the   doctor   ,   too   ,   wished   to   cleanse.

  knowledge   ,   albeit   desired   ,   is   a   double   —   edged   sword.

  as   arrogant   ,   as   veritas   might   appear   to   be   to   the   general   crowd   ,   he   steers   from   the   path   of   ego.   acknowledging   the   sacrifice   that   comes   with   ambitious   pursuit   ,   is   only   half   the   battle.   but   for   the   majority   ,   they   seldom   reach   this   revelation.   or   rather   ,   face   the   consequence   and   by   then   it   is   too   late.

  perhaps   ,   then   ,   it   is   a   blessing   rather   than   a   curse   to   go   unseen   by   the   humanoid.

  his   tome   closes   ,   producing   a   distinct   thud.   a   signature   noise   ,   belonging   only   to   veritas   ratio   and   his   ever   —   present   volume   ,   brimming   with   cosmic   dossiers.   ❝   if   i   am   never   to   capture   the   attention   of   nous   ,   this   will   not   deter   me   from   the   path   i   have   chosen.   ❞   incoming   ,   he   detects   particulates   ,   shrouded   in   filth.   his   next   task   is   appointed   ,   whereupon   he   rises   to   venture   to   his   relished   pastime.   a   hint   of   wafting   ambrosia   ,   is   all   he   requires   to   ward   intruding   whispers   ,   tarnished   in   debris.

  ❝   time   will   only   tell   ,   if   my   selection   to   join   the   genius   society   is   within   nous’   calculations   ,   but   until   then   i   will   continue   purging   this   world   of   the   malady   known   as   ignorance.   ❞

#* ✦ 𝐈𝐈. ❮ asks ❯ ⸻ ❝ #* ✦ 𝐈𝐕. ❮ isms ❯ ⸻ ❝ #* ✦ 𝐕𝐈. ❮ muses ❯ ⸻ ❝ 「 veritas ratio 」 #* ✦ ruinlost #okay there's a lot to unpack and veritas is never going to truly admit how he feels #because it would be selfish to be upset and believe he is worthy of nous' attention #and that is everything he goes against #he is ultimately stuck in a paradox but all he can do is work harder and strive to be more #he will never explicitly admit he wishes to be recognised because it is literally going against his very code #who would he be if he diminished all his efforts up until this point with a thought that would plunge him into the blight he wishes to cure #i have so many thoughts on this but to unveil them all would take away from his character i feel #so he sits in silence and continues his projects #at least they can distract his unsettled mind

[bg3-npc]

No no no no thinking about how Wyll’s devil form did more than just change his appearance

Mizora altered the world’s perception of Wyll too. His name was already tarnished, but The Blade of The Frontiers was making progress. Seven years since his exile, he’s literally gone from a teen to an adult, it’s no effort to be unrecognizable. He could use his positive reputation as The Blade to help diminish negative associations with his title before he revealed himself. He could hide. Mizora has now made sure he’ll never be capable of hiding, in any form, ever again. He’s a devil. He’s The Duke’s exiled, demon-bound son. The Duke’s exiled, demon-bound son is now a devil. He could explain himself, but people would have to be willing to put their judgments aside first. He’s perceived as fallen before he’s even had a chance to make a stand. Yet another obstacle to in an effort to connect with those he’s sworn to protect.

Not to mention relearning his body! Aesthetically, anatomically, biologically, and physiologically Wyll has been changed. It’s not just his appearance that’s foreign, it’s his entire body. Skilled movements that worked in the past might not work now. He no longer desires common foods. Depending on his present company’s opinions on one’s diet, even meals will be difficult now. He even has a line where he says his genitals are different! Yeah it’s meant to be funny, but think about it for half a second. It’s one thing to have a weird dick cause you asked for it. It’s another for it to be altered entirely without your consent. One of the most physically intimate parts of himself, the most intimate body part to share with someone, is now foreign to him. God even a free resource of solo pleasure is different. He was already avoiding intimacy because of his sending stone eye. Wyll doesn’t even have privacy, he’s in a constant state of surveillance!

As soon as Wyll starts to figure out and establish who he is, something (usually someone) demolishes it and puts him even further back. How many more times will he have to start over? How many more times will he have a part of himself stripped away? How much more does he have left until he’s just a title, not an individual? How long before he surrenders any form of identity or autonomy? How can you pick yourself back up when there are no pieces of yourself left? How many more times can you break someone down before there’s nothing left to rebuild?

Why let people get close to you when you could be different in the blink of an eye? Why get close to people when you’d have to constantly prove who you are, that you’re still you? Why form any connections at all when identity can be taken from you in an instant? What’s the point of even having an identity? Every time Wyll sees his reflection, he doesn’t see himself anymore.

Hey Larian what the FUCK did you make this man out of, why is he doing this to me

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #wyll ravengard #bg3 wyll #astarion #mine #anyway i need to be sedated

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Day 14: locked in/trapped

Masterlist flufftober 🎀

Reblog if you liked it!

“Stop the door!” you shouted, running down the hallway towards the elevator. Spencer, who heard you immediately, put his hand between the doors to make the sensor stop.

Once inside you exhaled agitatedly, while you thanked him, putting a hand on your chest to catch your breath.

“Didn't your alarm go off?”

“It did, but honestly the sheets were so comfortable that I just ignored it,” you replied, with a guilty smile.

You two knew each other from a couple of parties in common between the FBI units, but since you worked for the cybercrimes unit it was common to see you in García's office to ask her for a favor and then Spencer came to bump into you in the hallway a few times. He thought of you as a nice girl and you thought the same of him. Not that he was a pretty girl, of course, but a kind man.

“Maybe coffee can solve it, it always helps me”

“Running here woke me up enough, but I appreciate the advice,” you smiled, watching him from the side, and admiring his perfectly messy hair.

You were silent for a while, long enough for your heart rate to slow down and you were able to stand upright again, regaining your composure even with rosy cheeks and a thin sheen of sweat from the effort.

“How is all the work going?”

Your floor was higher up in the building so he would be the first one down, but it still gave you some time to chat, and just as you were about to answer a loud noise interrupted you, the lights flicker until they go out and everything around you shakes. The elevator had stopped.

“Shit, shit, shit…” you screeched, your back pressed against the elevator wall. He leaned next to you and tried to stay calm, breathing heavily and looking everywhere for a sign of danger. “The door, try to open it.”

"No! Press the… the button, press it,” he stammered, pointing to the red-lit circle on the dashboard. You heeded his instruction and then returned to your place, sliding over the wall slowly so you could sit on the floor.

You weren't claustrophobic or anything, but you had already gone at least five floors and the thought of the elevator collapsing wasn't very encouraging. Spencer had gotten stuck once before and the problem had been resolved in a couple of seconds, so he tried to hold on to the idea that this time it would be the same. However, just like that time, the statistic appeared in his mind: six elevator-related deaths per year and 10,000 injuries that require hospitalization.

“Do you think it's a power failure in the building?” you asked in a whisper, as if you were afraid that speaking too loudly would make you two fall.

“It's probably that or else the lights wouldn't have gone out. Or it could also be due to an earthquake, which would be even worse."

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” you complained, looking at your partner with an expression of disbelief and fear.

"I'm sorry. When I get nervous I start imagining the worst scenarios.”

His repentant smile was enough for you to forgive his demotivating contributions and then the two of you fell silent. It had only been a few minutes since you had activated the alarm so you assumed that security would arrive soon, so the only thing you could do was wait patiently.

Time passed slowly and little by little the panic diminished, until only the two of you were left waiting for someone to open the doors to get you out of there. You had your knees drawn up and hugged yourself, with the cold metal of the wall freezing your back.

“Can the air run out?”

“No, the ventilation system works all the time. Relax,” he murmured kindly, as he reached out to squeeze your arm “I'll set the alarm again, maybe now they'll hear us, okay?”

Spencer barely finished saying this when, in the distance, you heard something that sounded like a gunshot and then the two of you jumped into each other's arms as an unconscious act. Was someone attacking the offices? What the hell was happening?

Your partner's arms, although thin, felt firm and safe, so you clung closer to him. Both of you were scared, but you were a little more than him due to your inexperience in the field and Spencer felt like he should be the one to take care of you. One hand let go of you to go to his belt and look for his gun, ready to shoot whatever threatened you.

You were startled again when the power returned and with a jolt the elevator started up again, climbing the few remaining floors to reach the BAU floor. When the doors opened you rushed outside, still half-embracing, and met several of the man's companions.

“Reid? Are you okay?"

“We heard a gunshot,” he said hurriedly, while looking around for any threat. You were shaking a little and your companion noticed that.

"A shot?" Morgan asked, obviously worried about the two of you. “That can't be. "It was probably something else."

“It was a gunshot,” intervened Aaron, who had just hung up the phone. “One of the first-time agents on the floors below got nervous and fired by accident, but luckily no one was hurt”

Having said that, you let out a sigh and began to breathe normally, calm that everything had been a misunderstanding and that you hadn’t died from an accident.

“I should have stayed in bed at home,” you said quietly, so that only he could hear you, and the man started to laugh, a little from the relief of having gotten out of the situation and a little from your joke.

“You still have some floors to go”

“Oh yeah, I'll use the stairs. I think from today I will, I won't get on that infernal machine again” you continued and he shook his head, amused by everything you were saying “It wasn't a pleasure getting stuck with you, Dr. Reid. See you another day?"

"Sure. Good luck”

"Same to you"

“Eat something sweet, that will help with the scare” he recommended and you nodded with a smile, waving goodbye to everyone and crossing the hallway that led to the stairs.

Of course your knees couldn't handle the promise of never using the elevator again, but every time you were lucky enough to share it with Spencer you would look at each other knowingly and laugh, remembering the fateful incident with amusement.

taglist: @navs-bhat @reidwritings @tricia-shifting14 @spencerslove @vivian-555 @r-3dlips @rhiannonhippiegirl @taygrls @simp4f1 @sdddoobydoobydoo @taintedstranger

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid x you #flufftober 2023 #prompt list #writing challenge #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid drabble

[moonxnite]

Master of Puppets || Daryl Dixon.

Daryl Dixon x Reader (The Walking Dead x Fem!Reader)

Author’s Note: Inspired by the one and only, Eddie Munson, this fic is dedicated to the wise rockstar and his solo. I took his solo in Stranger Things vol 2 and mixed it with the Walking Dead bc both go hard and I think the song fits well into the aesthetic of the show, especially with Daryl Dixon. I altered the episode based on my own liking and through my own imagination, hope you like it!

Word Count: I have absolutely no idea.

Summary: When the walkers ambushed the beloved community, Alexandra, it created the impossible. Carl sought helped from The Saviors to lure the herd into the quarry, ultimately making both communities unite. Being denied to help, Y/n worked with Dwight to make the most metal performance ever in history.

Warnings: Cussing? Mentions of death, near death experience, angst.

Everyone in Alexandria was terrified over their new fate. Between The Saviors and the herd of walkers roaming around Alexandria, it made it impossibly difficult to keep the community functioning properly.

Food supplies began to diminish impeccably fast and the ideal of protection was long gone. The Saviors expected pick up nearly every two weeks and with the walkers ambushing inside Alexandria, destroyed all crops and invaded the storage room. Food was practically nonexistent and rations were made to be adjusted every so often.

Rick attempted to mask his anxiety, but you knew how deeply afraid he was. He desperately tried to remain calm and he succeeded until he was alone. His emotions ran high and his thoughts got the best of him. Being the leader he was, Rick continued to display a brave face for his family, something he always did and will continue to do. All members of the community were tasked with certain positions, some looking for temporary shelter, others going on hunts/food scavenging, and some who worked to lure the walkers away. You had the task to help Rick, Michonne, Daryl, Carl, and Carol to kill the walkers near the entrance of the community. Using the cars and motorcycles was an excellent call as it distracted the walkers away.

It took nearly seven hours to remove the walkers from the premises of Alexandria. Still, very few remained, but it was quite easy to kill and depose. The gates were knocked down and the fields were ruined. While the walkers were pretty far off from the community, it still wasn’t safe to return. Everyone continued to lay down plans for shifts and contributions.

Little by little, the walls of Alexandria were being built. Some walls were repaired while others had to be redone. You, Aaron, and Eugene (alongside others) worked on the walls as Rick, Michonne, Daryl, and Carol continued protect the premises and kill whatever walker managed to get inside. It was a constant hassle between time and effort but as every moment continued to pass, Alexandria managed to become its semi original self.

Eventually, it called for a debate for prioritization between the Alexandrians and The Saviors. Some argued to hunt food for the community while others pointed out that the lack of resources for the Saviors would cause harm for the community. You explained to Rick that while “feeding” the Saviors first seemed reasonable, the lives of Alexandrians were at stake.

“The Saviors have conquered how many communities?” You argued, “They have access to various resources and one less wouldn’t hurt. We’re all malnourished Rick come on” You said. Spencer, however, claimed that the Saviors would kill members as a consequences for disappointment

“I just need some time to think.” Rick began “Carl and Enid are out this week, if we’re lucky, we could split it even. So far, we just need to wait and stick to what we planned.”

“Rick, no. I get that our jobs is to make sure Alexandria is safe but we need to put our people first, The Saviors will never be satisfied, maybe if we send out more people on hunts we can come back with more food. Then it would make sense to split but we barely have a box filled with canned food. If we just-”

“Y/n enough, we’ll figure out a plan just like what we always do, but for now just stick to your job and that is-”

“To rebuild the walls of Alexandria and to lure the walkers away.” You sighed “I know”

You walked away from Rick, not wanting to stressed one another even further you considered dropping the subject. Upon both of your knowledge, Carl hid behind the wall and listen to your conversation. His return from the run with Enid was unsuccessful and he didn’t have the heart to update his father. Carl came up with a plan, one that he knew was too risky but he didn’t have a choice, he was going to ask The Saviors for help.

Next Day

You and Daryl worked together to kill walkers, you both had traveled far away from the community site and were located deep into the woods. Grunts and groans echoed as you tended each walker. Blood splattering onto your clothes and sweat running down your backs, it was a disgusting sight to see and feel. Clothes sticking onto your skin as the sun blazed down your face. Walkers continued to swarm around you but it was easily handled. Using with his crossbow, Daryl worked fast to retrieve his arrows once again. You had a wide selection of weapons up your sleeve. Between knifes and guns, you worked well with your Hello Kitty knife. It was an odd weapon, one that was given to you by an old friend, but it was pink and resourceful so you always used it.

Daryl always made fun of your knife, laughed whenever he saw it. You even got into a dumb argument once after he continued to tease you but stopped when you explained that a close friend had gifted it to you on your birthday. It was months before the apocalypse emerged and since then, it had always been a weapon you cherished. Regardless of how many weapons you own and kept, it was your go to. Still, Daryl continues to display a smirk whenever he saw it.

With patience and hard work, all the walkers were put down. Smiling and panting, Daryl was caught off guard when you hugged him as a celebratory win.

“We did it! Yay” You smiled as you begun to crouch down your knees

“Yeah” He grumbled

“Are we done for today or should we continue to keep moving forward?” You asked, wiping your Hello Kitty knife with a cloth

“Wer’ pretty far from Alexandria and its gettin’ dark” He starts “I think we should look for some shelter and stay for the night. We can go back tomorrow.”

“Okay, lets go”

Back at Alexandria

During your shift with Daryl, Rick and Michonne were out gathering weapons from an abandoned town. Meanwhile, Carl and Enid were scheduled to go out on another hunt. Carl debated whether to attend The Saviors premises that day, it was between getting it over with or putting everyones lives at stake. He attempted to talk Enid out of her shift as they begun to prepare to head out.

“Why don’t you want me to go?” Enid asked

“It’s not safe”

“Safe? We’re never safe” Enid argued

“I had plans to go to Negan today.” He confessed

Enid looked at him in disbelief, she didn’t know what to say other than agree to go with him. She knew how Carl’s mind worked and came to understand that whatever she tried to say, he’d ignore her and would continue to follow his plans. She didn’t want him to go through it alone so she asked to join him, reluctantly he agreed.

“What exactly do you have planned?” She questioned

“I know Alexandria is still not safe but we need help. Y/n and Daryl are always out to prevent the walkers from invading the community and its been long enough since the incident happened. I know that by going to Negan could make him go easier on us. I think it would say a lot if we go to him instead of waiting for him to come to us.” Carl hoped his plan would work but he had a deep feeling Negan would be furious. He needed to come up with another plan in case things went south and form a compromise just to be safe.

That Night

You and Daryl spent a night at a cabin. It was ten minutes away from where you came across the small herd and seemed pretty safe to spend the night. The tension was loud. You could feel it radiating and bouncing across the walls. However, nothing happened and you cursed underneath your breath as you were afraid to make a move.

You had the talk of expressing your feelings for one another, but nothing seemed to occur. Living with constant fear was a blockage on the soon to be relationship. It was reassuring that Daryl looked after you but you didn’t want to stay friends, you wanted to be more and make things official. Initially, the confidence of having the conversation once again appeared the night before Alexandria fell. From there, it seemed like it was inappropriate to ask about you two. You just had to wait a little longer.

Throughout the night, Daryl made a small fire and cooked a squirrel that he spotted on a tree. Poor little thing.

You see, adjusting to the wild life was definitely not easy, at least for you. Daryl quickly adjusted and had no fear or sympathy against killing animals for survival. It took you almost an entire year to get slightly used to killing creatures. It was easier but you still didn’t like doing it. However, the meal was good as much as it pained you to admit it, Daryl was an excellent cook.

That morning, both parties packed their belongings to return back to home. Feeling a bit anxious for no apparent reason, you swallowed your anxiety and head out the door to return home. There was a small sense that something was going on, you had no idea what but something felt wrong. You had hoped and prayed that your family and friends were safe and sound.

The walk to Alexandria was anything but fun, it was so hot. The mosquitoes started a war and your arm was sore after swinging your hands to prevent them from biting your exposed skin. Water ran low and so did the snacks you and Daryl packed. You wanted to cry out of exhaustion and irritation but soon enough the misery would end.

With every close step, Daryl can make out the lined up cars on the entrance of Alexandria. It didn’t take a genius to know who they were. Fear and anxiety ran coldly throughout Daryl’s veins. His eyes sparking with fear and his mouth ran dry. Beside him, you were too oblivious to make out what he saw, busy swinging your arms to protect your skin. Caught off guard, Daryl grabbed your arm and crouched down, making both of your faces extremely close. Any movement would create a kiss you desperately wanted to happen.

Looking deep into your eyes, Daryl’s throat got caught as he realized how close you both were. The heavy breathing was all you could hear, nothing was said or done for what seemed like eternity. If only something pushed either of you, maybe what you desired would come true. It didn’t seem like the perfect time but it seemed right.

Reaching back into reality, Daryl cleared his throat causing you pull away from your thoughts. He got up from his crouching position, still holding your arm, you did the same. Still maintaining eye contact, it was hard to acknowledge the outside world.

All you wanted to do was stare at this man for eternity.

He wanted the same thing as you.

Daryl was the first one to look away and it slightly shattered your heart. You looked toward Daryl’s gaze, immediately understanding his sudden movements. As you looked across the field, you noticed that all the vehicles were empty. It was a clear indication that all of Negan’s crew were inside Alexandria and it made your nerves spiral. Your heart was beating fast and cold sweat began to form all across your body. Daryl sensed your anxiety and traveled his hand from your arm to your palm, instantly locking fingers. This bittersweet moment was enough to make your heart melt under the wrong circumstances.

“They came back” He says

“They weren’t due for at least another week.” You panted

“Come on” He begins to run, never letting your hand go.

Both continued to run, if not, sprinted towards the gate of Alexandria. Fear was sensed and delivered up until they reached their home. Afraid of seeing an innocent person get punished, you regretted having the conversation with Rick. You wished you hadn’t made him decide what to do. You just lost two family members and you couldn’t bare another loss. If anything happened to anyone, it would be on you.

Walking slowly into the entrance, you spotted a large group, a divided crowd between Rick and Negan. Both men standing in front of each other not tempting to lose their guard. No one seemed injured or dead.

Good.

You saw as Michonne was standing next to Rick. Carol, Gabriel, Eugene, Rosita, Ezekiel, and just about everyone else stood behind Rick.

All but Carl.

You and Daryl both intervened by walking towards them. Not letting each other’s hands go, you walked slowly and felt all eyes on you. Alexandria and The Saviors took a moment to digest a new sight before re-entering their disagreement.

“What a sight for sore eyes!” Negan says as he spotted you, “Y/n, just the person I’ve been waiting to see.”

“What’s going on?” You asked Rick

“The Saviors just arrived, not sure what they’re here exactly.” Rick says “If this is about the pickup, we still have a week left.”

“We heard you’re having a little trouble and your boy here asked for help” Negan says as he swung his bat onto his shoulder

“Carl? No. He went out with Enid to scavenge food.” He said

“Are you calling me a liar? Why else would I be here with my crew?” Negan interjected

“We don’t need your help, we need you to get the hell outta here” Rick snaps as he realized his son lied about attending the nearest shops. Carl knew that once The Saviors left, he would be given a lecture by his father.

“I’m gonna make you a deal here Rick and I want you to listen very carefully.” Negan smiles “We’ll give you the week off but until then, I expect you to have double the food, double the weapons, and resources. I’m being gracious by giving you almost three weeks here.”

“Why’s that? What do you want?” He threatens

“I’m simply being a good samaritan, you gotta at least give me a little bit of credit here.” Negan replies as he slowly walks towards Rick and places an arm around his neck, “You either want help in luring the walkers or you want to starve your people and make me at least kill three more.”

“Why do you give a shit?” All Rick could see was red. Negan acted like he actually cared about the Alexandrians when he killed two, he hated Rick so why bother?

“Well sweet ol’ Carl showed up at The Sanctuary and since I actually like the kid, I thought why not?”

It was difficult for Rick to change his mind about the offer. Rick never trusted Negan and he never will, however, the lives of the Alexandrians was far more important than his hate game. The members of the community hesitated as they knew what this meant, being in debt under The Saviors was far scarier than anyone would imagine.

Negan and Simon accompanied Daryl and Rick into the storage room to form a proper layout of their plan. No one knew how long they would take or if one would be pronounced dead. The rest would continue to stay out in the fields and wait, no one moved and no one made a sound. It was a competition of who can keep their guard through intimidation and fear. The Alexandrians and The Saviors keep eye contact until their leaders returned back.

45 minutes later

The four men came out of the storage room, Negan and Simon smiled with full stupidity as they walked towards their people. Rick and Daryl followed behind and made their way towards you and Carl. The tension radiated off into the atmosphere as both communities stood on opposite ends.

“So here is what we’re going to do.” Negan yelled to The Saviors “We’re going to help Alexandria, we came up with a plan to use the vehicles to form a large herd. That herd will be taken down to the quarry.”

“That’s, no!“ You interfered, “Do you realize how dumb that is?”

“Sweetheart, I’m afraid I didn’t ask for your opinion.” Negan snapped

“Hey! Watch it” Daryl growled

“My apologies” He replied back

“I get that the whole point is to lure them away but how is leading them to the quarry even safe? It’s still pretty close to Alexandria and if they got out, we’ll have a herd invasion once again.” You explained

“It’s only temporary, until we can rebuild Alexandria and make it safer and stronger, we’ll lure them even farther away. This is only temporary.” Rick interjected

“Are you sure this could work? What if they got out before we rebuilt it? What happens then?” You asked

“We’re gonna have shifts to monitor the herd, Aaron spotted a couple of trucks and we could use that to barricade em.” Daryl places a hand to your lower back to ease your stress and it seemed to work.

“If the herd manages to overrun the barricade, then we’ll lure them away if we have to, we’ll adjust our plans to make sure we’re okay. We’re on this together and with additional help, it’ll make it easier” Rick motions as Negan waves off of the mention, placing his bat onto his shoulder with a smirk.

“Okay let’s do it” You agreed

The plan would be executed within one hour. You devised a plan to help with the task only for Daryl to shut you down.

That hurt.

Daryl continued to shut your pleas and threatened to lock you in a room. He wanted to keep you safe and far away from the plan.

Daryl gave you two options: Stay in Alexandria or stay inside a locked room in Alexandria

You knew there was no other choice to obey him. His authority was hot but it still pissed you off. You wanted to help you’re family in the way that you can, you also wanted to be in the action. Staying behind seemed boring and being bored made you unproductive and whiny.

You walked with your arms crossed, kicking the pebbles from the floor, you frowned like a baby. Looking across the field, you spotted Carl and Enid and the perfect plan was formed.

You were so dead.

“Carl, you mentioned Ron had a guitar?” You said as you walked up to the pair

“Yeah I think so, why?” Carl asked

“Enid, do you still have that Metallica album?”

“Why?”

“I just need a couple of things, don’t mention this to anyone!” You warned, “Especially Daryl.”

“What exactly are you planning?” Carl question

“The most metal performance ever” You grinned

3 Minutes Later

You sped walk into Ron’s room to prevent a scene. If you were caught, you hoped it wouldn’t be by Daryl. However, the sudden adrenaline rush flowed throughout your body and you were excited to play Master of Puppets.

You were a rock kid back in high school, better yet, led a band starting sophomore year. Your band Hellfire volunteered to play for musicals, school events, dances, and parties. Hellfire was a success as you were recognized by an agent and Hellfire had the opportunity to go big.

Key word: Had

The night everything and every life was destroyed, your band had played a cover by Metallica. The crowd cheered as you shredded the guitar and the drums roared through the walls.

It was epic.

The crowed sung and dance all within those four hours, cheering as they bobbed their heads. It was a night you felt everything went right for once. Your band was so loud, the way it always had been.

It was so loud you couldn’t make out the cries and screams. You thought people were cheering.

All that time, you thought the crowd went crazy for you.

But it wasn’t for you.

The room was swarmed with walkers. The herd made its way inside and attacked and you didn’t even notice it. Didn’t notice the way they grabbed those people.

Those poor people were killed.

All because of you.

You noticed when your drummer was pulled from the stage, the music was distorted and you finally understood. The rest of your bandmates were snatched and so you did what you always did.

You ran.

“Jesus christ!” You flinched

Dwight’s scream was something you could never ever forget. His high pitched scream had frightened you but also caused you to laugh. His presence wasn’t something you expected, you were slightly confused as he stood above the seat of Ron’s old drum collection. Putting the pieces together you assumed he used to play before hell broke loose.

“You play?” You were stunned and impressed

“Used to back in senior year” He replied back. Dwight clenched the drumsticks as he reminisced his passed and you felt sorry for him. He sighed and lightly played, soft enough so no one would hear.

“You know Metallica?”

“Everyone knows Metallica”

“Master of Puppets?” You had high hopes. If he knew how to play, he could help you.

“Yep.”

This is going to be fun.

You gave Dwight an insight to your masterplan but it took a lot of convincing. He feared to go behind Negan’s back because he was expected to leave with The Saviors. You promised him he wouldn’t be punished as you persuaded him it would help both communities with a front hand.

“Look if you get in trouble don’t worry! I’ll take the blame.” You sighed, “Think of this as a tour because I’m sure you wanted to play in front of a large crowd!”

“But what if-”

“We could really help them. If they fall behind or if someone gets hurt then the herd can be attracted by the sound and leave them alone. Come on play hero.”

“Okay I’m in.”

You and Dwight had to leave fast without anyone noticing. Dwight’s fear continued to grow and grow as he walked past his friends but ignored the stares. A few people laughed as they saw you both carrying the instruments to the truck and some demanded answers as to why it was necessary. Dwight explained he wanted “your” collection as a way to forgive you on the late delivery.

Getting out of there was hard. Dwight drove the truck away to a close proximity but you had to sneak your way out of Alexandria. If people grew suspicious over the instruments it would’ve been worse if you went with Dwight as he left. You pulled an Enid and climbed the walls far away from the houses and with luck, you jumped over and ran inside the truck. Dwight took off and the plan was settled.

An Hour Later

“Where the hell is Dwight?!” Negan yelled across the crowd as he strolled along with his bat

“Has anyone seen Y/n?” Daryl asked

“Maybe Y/n went out for a hunt with Carl and Enid” Rick suggested “They must’ve left 15 minutes ago”

“Nah she would’ve said somethim’ and I told her not to leave dammit!” Daryl yelled

“Hey! Hey! There isn’t anytime to argue. We need to leave now if we want to come back before the sun sets.” Rick grabbed Daryl’s shoulders to prevent him from searching all across Alexandria. “Listen Daryl, I know how important she is but if we don’t lure those walkers just like what we planned we’re going to take longer to make Alexandria home again.”

Daryl wouldn’t budge, he feared that Dwight might’ve done something to you. The Saviors who witnessed you two addressed to Negan about Dwight leaving with instruments and took off but he didn’t take you. That seemed to have calmed Daryl’s nerves but some part of him believed it was more than that. It made sense if you left with Carl and Enid for a hunt if Dwight left earlier than you. Still, Daryl planned to give you an talk, preferably a yell for not listening to him. Negan was unimpressed, his jaw clenched for the man who took off for a pair of drums. He couldn’t wait to return back to the sanctuary to give Dwight a whole new face.

The Saviors and Alexandria all left in various vehicles. It would be a night to remember for both communities as they gather hand in hand for a misson. If Rick was once told he would be working alongside Negan, he would’ve shot the person who told him.

The drive lasted over two hours, groups separated from each other to widen the herd and it seemed to be working. Daryl’s herd was the largest as his motorcycle created a large sum of noise. The roaring from his bike was a beautiful to him and it made him feel powerful. He looked powerful as he slowly rode his bike while a large herd was following him. His face was nothing but sour when he thought of you. Part of him was anxious since he didn’t hear from you but another part of him was really pissed off for leaving.

Within hours of slowly transporting the walkers, no one saw you and Dwight setting up at the cliff near the bottom of the quarry. No one noticed each other until the sound of roaring caught your attention. You were nervous for multiple reasons. However, you were glad you weren’t where the walkers would be, just right above them. Before arriving at the quarry, you and Dwight spotted some fireworks at the gas station nearby. It was a random but it seemed like destiny. The louder you were the better.

“Here take this” You extended an item to Dwight

“Sunglasses really?”

“What? Oh come on they look cool! Here’s mine.” You said as you placed them on

“Whatever” He grumbled. You smiled when he did the same

You spotted The Saviors and Alexandria from around the corner. Seeing as they bought the walkers, each vehicle drove fast from one side of the quarry to the other. It took a couple of minutes before all the cars and bikes to safely travel to the other side. Aaron and Eugene began barricading one side of the quarry.

It was time.

Dwight held onto his drumsticks and you began to insert the cord into to speaker. Looking at each other for a brief moment, you took a deep breath as Dwight hit the drumsticks together.

“Hellfire, this is for you.” You whispered

Your fingers danced with each cord as the song began to play. You immediately felt all eyes on you. The song was enough to make you smile as you began to remember your favorite moments with your band. Each finger naturally glided with every cord and it was like you never stopped playing. Dwight begun hitting each part of the drum set as it was his own way of singing.

End of passion play

Crumbling away

I’m your source of self-destruction

“Holy shit!” Negan cheered as he viewed the pair through the binoculars

Veins that pump with fear

Sucking darkest clear

Leading on your death’s construction

You and Dwight were hypnotized by the music.The melody blasted all across the field which enabled a whole new herd to emerge from the forest and fall into the pit. The clouds darkened into a deep shade of gray and the lightening roared as it sung with the song. The floor vibrated as the drums spoked and the guitar screamed.

Taste me, you will see

More is all you need

Dedicated to

How I’m killing you

Hundreds, maybe thousands of walkers all fell inside the quarry. The groans and the moans rang your ears as you continued to play. The yelling was all but faint and you knew that Daryl was the one to scream at you to get out of there. You and Dwight didn’t care within that moment as your were too busy playing.

Come crawling faster (faster)

Obey your master (master)

Your life burns faster (faster)

You looked over at Dwight and saw as he bobbed his head with every hit he made. He was smiling as he followed the music. You crouched as you held the guitar against your hips. Body flowing as you danced along. You hair hitting every direction of your face as the wind became stronger and aggressive.

Obey your

Master

Master

Where’s the dream that I’ve been after?

Master

Master

You were fully concentrated to the song but from the corner of your eye, you spotted the walkers underneath you. The cliff from where you and Dwight were was enough to give you a view of the entire field.

Daryl attempted to reached the hill to stop you but Rick held him back. All Rick could do was convince him no to go, that your plan was working to lure the walkers inside. The rest of the members all watched you as you played, seemingly impressed by your performance, Eugene and Aaron continued to work to form a barricade on both sides of the entrance.

Promised only lies

Laughter

Laughter

All I hear or see is laughter

Laughter

Laughter

Laughing at my cries

A part of your gut was telling you to stop. Looking across the field, more walkers fell into the quarry and you began to worry if it was enough to hold them. Finally, you decided to shorten the song so you and Dwight could leave on time.

“Dwight! We have to leave in about a minute.” You screamed and were surprised he even heard you, “You still have those fireworks?”

He nodded and pulled out a lighter out of his pocket. He quickly scrambled around his bag and pulled out the items. Lighting the stems, he threw the fireworks below the cliff and let it hit the ground. Dwight returned back to the drum sets and begun playing once again.

It was finally your time to shine

You crouched even further as you fingers touched the cords when you began to shred the guitar. You bobbed you head slightly as your left hand held its necks and your fingers fondled with the strings. The fireworks exploded, killing some walkers during the process. The sight was beautiful to see as the cloudy sky reflected gold and red lights.

You looked up at the sky to catch your breath and you could feel your fingers giving out. You pushed through and continued shredding, already making your body sore.

Once the melody began to slow down, you signaled Dwight that it was time. Your attention was brought by the walkers who groaned and begun to climb up the hill.

You both stopped playing and placed the items down. While the song continued to play, Dwight grabbed your hand and led you across the other side of the hill. The people across the quarry and noticed you two leaving, causing them to get in their vehicles to meet you on the other side.

“This way!” Dwight yelled

You and Dwight ran down the hill as fast as you possibly could. When reaching at the edge, you both came to a halt when discovering that the pathway towards down the quarry was destroyed. You both didn’t have a choice but to jump across and you feared that it wouldn’t work out. You looked at Dwight with a concerned expression and all he did was give you a polite smile and squeezed your hand.

“It’s okay, you can do this. All we need to do is jump and then we can go back home.” He hoped

Nodding to agree, Dwight jumped across first. His landing was perfect and he waited for you to jump. Looking back, you saw the walkers attempting to make their way with you. They were close, so close they almost grabbed you. Shots began to rang when Dwight pulled out his gun to shoot the walkers behind you. He was buying you some time but accidentally shot you in the midriff as you ran across the cliff. Once you landed, you felt pain radiating across your body. You were shot and you sprained your ankle as you made it over.

“Y/n! Fuck! I’m so sorry!” Dwight yelped, “I didn’t mean to shoot you! Fuck! Let’s get you over the other side.”

“Hey” You choked “I’m okay.”

The sound of the gunfire was enough to grab everyone’s attention and it was enough to break Daryl’s heart. He quickly hopped onto his bike and made himself over to you. The Saviors and Alexandria begun to lit the quarry on fire to slow the walkers down. The smell was unbearable as it fried the decayed.

The pain continued to grow and all you could do was cry. It was a breaking point that you entered. Dwight had pulled you alongside with him. Your arm was swung over him as you limped to safety. You were losing so much blood and Dwight pulled you into a bridal-style motion and carried you across the field.

Daryl sprinted across you when he saw how bad it was. Dwight slowly placed you onto the ground and stepped back so Daryl could hold you. You felt pressure on your abdomen and noticed it was Daryl who tried to stop the bleeding. Your eyes landed onto his and you noticed he was crying. You couldn’t make out his screams because you were giving up.

“Why n the hell would you do that?” He screamed

You cried. He never once yelled at you like that but it was the memories that came rushing back. You knew that you deserved to be yelled at but it was still enough to clench your heart. Daryl began to regret it and waited until you said something.

“It’s bad right?” You asked “It’s not his fault Daryl, I pushed him into it.”

Daryl looked at Dwight and all he could see was immense guilt. He called him over and directed him to go get help.

“I didn’t run away this time, right?” You faintly smiled. “It was so loud, we were so loud.”

“It was a whole damn concert.” He sniffled. His tears kept flowing and his hands were painted red. Your breathing became hitched and you were becoming pale.

“It was my fault Daryl. All those people, Hellfire…everything was my fault” You cried “I didn’t mean to. If I knew what was behind those doors it never would’ve happened.”

Daryl had no clue what you were referring to. He was too busy trying to stop the bleeding.

“We were amazing, all of us. God I miss them all so much.” You sobbed uncontrollably

Eyes clouded with tears and lungs burning to breathe, you felt yourself pulling away. You didn’t run but you felt yourself slipping. You gasped and wheezed as Daryl continued to apply pressure. He attempted to stop the bleeding but to no avail, blood squirted out from your abdomen.

“Daryl…I’m so scared. I don’t wanna go yet. I wanna stay with you.” You cried “I love you Daryl.” You smiled softly

“Y/n no, just hold on. Rick’s coming, they’re coming. Dontcha dare close your eyes. Y/n! God dammit!” He screamed and cried.

Breathing into darkness, you were gone.

One Week Later

Alexandria was home again. Daryl and Rick went out looking for food to compensate The Saviors. Though, a part of Rick still hated Negan but he decided to execute his plans when he least expected it.

Two days into the hunt, they found a large truck filled with food and toiletries. It seemed like a miracle was given to them, one that they needed after the incident. Both Rick and Daryl decided to hide the resources and continue to scavenge food for The Saviors. This miracle was one that couldn’t be given away so if they needed to find expired food so that The Saviors can get off their backs, then so be it.

When the pair returned back to Alexandria, they were ambushed with news.

You had woken up.

After you drifted off, Daryl took you back to Alexandria and you were in surgery for six hours. Everyone waited outside, some were crying while others prayed you would make it out alive. During those six hours, everyone talked about how enchanting your and Dwight’s performance was. Negan decided not to punish him, being too impressed by the show, he allowed him to stay in Alexandria until you had woken up.

Luckily for Daryl, it would be that day.

He stumbled back when Tara had given him the news. He wasted no time to sprint to the infirmary room to see you. He panted as he ran and pushed people who got in his way. Following behind him were Rick and Dwight.

Running inside, Daryl pushed the doors open and led himself inside your room. Heart beating fast while the palm of his hands began to sweat. He slowly crept forward and met those beautiful eyes he was dying to see.

“Hi Doll.”

#Spotify #stranger things #eddie munson #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #negan x reader #the walking dead imagine #the walking dead fluff #the walking dead angst #daryl dixon angst #rick grimes #rick grimes x reader #stranger things x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x y/n #metallica #master of puppets #carl grimes #negan smith #the walking dead #rock #daryl dixon x you #twd #twd daryl dixon

[twd-obsessed-bitch]

Imagining Rick and Michonne finally reuniting.

They're fighting the same horde from opposite sides and as it diminishes they see eachother. Rick sees her first,

Michonnes all decked out in her new armour so Rick doesn't immediately recognize her, just sees her as an ally that moves very familiarly he starts trying to move towards her to see if they can find an exit together,

Michonne see him and freezes. Just for a second, but long enough for a walker to get too close for comfort. He's older, has a beard again and is in something she knows her Rick would never wear if he was back home, but it's him.

She sees him coming closer and knows how he is. He's so sentimental, he hasn't seen any of his family in like 7 to 9 years at this point (after he left we had the 6 year jump and then we had like 3 other month long to year long jumps) she knows that if he realizes she's who she is that it'll get one or both of them killed, so she turns her back in his direction. Keeping herself shielded from him until the fight is over.

He yells at her, and as much as it absolutely rips her heart out to do so she ignores him, knowing she can't look at him fully just yet. He yells again, this time followed by a "there's an exit this way! C'mon"

She turns, keeping her face away from him, by this point he knows this 'mystery woman' is hiding something from him by hiding her face but he can't tell, he assumes its a CRM soldier that knows him. But he's Rick Grimes and at his core, he saves people.

It's alot of blood, guts, gore, and effort, but they make it out, into a building to hide out in, they barricade the door, working in tandem just as they used to, like not a day has passed since they last saw eachother, like nothing's changed, even though everything has.

Rick doesn't even need to get a full sentence out before Michonne is helping him with a cabinet, between the darkness of the building and the helmet on her head he can't make out her face. They aren't safe yet so she doesn't want him too, the moment he realizes she knows they're both going to freeze, to break. The doors boarded, the rooms safe, it's quiet except for their harsh breathing. Michonne is turned away from him. She still can't bring herself to believe its truly him even though she saw him. It was him right?

She takes her helmet off. Rick's breath catches in his throat as he sees her dreads fall out of the helmet, it can't be. Michonne turns, slowly, it's torturous, they're both holding their breaths.

They stand before eachother, facing eachother, both slowly taking the other in, processing that after almost a decade they're reunited.

It's really him.

It's actually her.

Rick's the first to move. Michonne is still struggling to process that he's actually alive, that he's actually in front of her, that he's moving closer, never in her life has she been as frozen as she is right now, except maybe when she looked at RJ for the first time.

Rick's hands are on her face, but it's his lips on hers that break her out of it. It's needy, it's possessive, it's like taking a breath of air after being underwater for a second too long.

It's everything she's needed since that moment she saw him blow himself up all those years ago.

It's hello, I'm sorry, I found you.

She pulls away from him, holding his dace in her hands and then she laughs.

He joins in, holding her back just as delicately, like if they held to hard the other would disappear in their fingertips in a puff of smoke. Like how it has happened in one to many dreams.

"Hi" is all she says, it's soft, softer than she's been able to be in too long.

"Hey," he returns, just as softly, "I've missed you."

That's what starts the next wave of emotions, the tears. Michonne's eyes well up before she can even process what she wants to say. Tears are free falling by the time she chokes out her next sentence mere seconds after the words hit her ears.

They talk, it's about all they do for hours, they settle in for a long night, hearing the dead bang on the doors that are secured. They find something that could have once resembled being comfortable. Rick starts a small fire, just for warmth.

They lay together, entwined in each other's limbs, every possible part of them touching the other, and they talk.

About what Rick's been up to, about Daryl moving into the woods to search for Rick, about how michonne went out everyday for months, searching for him. She conveniently leaves out that she was increasingly pregnant in those months, not knowing how to tell him that he has a son.

She tells him about Judith, how she's grown into a strong young woman, how she's exactly a mix of him and Carl. How brave she is and how she told Michonne to leave to find Rick. She tells him of the time she trusted somebody from the past and they kidnapped Judith, and that her and Daryl went through hell to get Jude back.

How Michonne couldn't bare to lose another piece of Rick.

Rick tells Michonne how he never stopped fighting to get back to them, but everytime he left, everytime he got close, the CRM came and stole him back.

Michonnes seen the soldiers, dead ones anyways. The only breathing one she came across was on his way out. Begging her to put him out of his misery. She did, in return for a map, and any information he could have about Rick.

She didn't get any. Just the map.

Michonne falls asleep first, after so long of being alone. Both back in Alexandria and on the road. The comfort of the man laying next to her, his calm breathing, it lulls her straight to sleep.

Rick kisses her head, promises he's not going anywhere and that they'll see eachother in the morning, and sets up to keep watch.

He's wired. He's overthinking. The CRM are looking for him and this time they might get Michonne too. He can't have that. There's also a voice in the back of his head that's telling him she isn't telling him something.

She stuttered while talking about the kidnapping, when he was listening to her he thought it was just because it was hard to admit she had killed kids. But now, he can't put his finger on it. She also hesitated while talking about looking for him, like she wanted to say something but couldn't bring herself to do so.

A night of overthinking later and he's somehow convinced himself that she moved on. She found Judith a new dad and herself a new person. It's the only thing that makes sense in his head. The trauma of Lori and Shane shaping his mind in a way he didn't want to think about. It happened before.

When Michonne wakes up, she finds him across the room, completely opposite her.

"Just tell me it's not Daryl." he says when he noticed her awake. The bitterness in his voice cut through her. He's completely 180'd and she can't figure out why.

"What's not Daryl?" she asks, cautiously, confusion evident not only on her gave but in her voice.

"your new man." Rick spits.

"I only have you."

"Then what aren't you telling me?"

Michonne's breath catches in her throat, she still doesn't know how to tell him. After years of not seeing him, not knowing if he's alive or dead, she doesn't want one of the first things he hears from her to be that he has a son who doesn't know his father.

She stares at him, no words can come out.

"Well?" Rick asks, his patients thinning,

She cant say anything, she just shakes her head, there's to many emotions in to quick of succession.

"Who's the other man." it's not a question, "it's not like I can blame you for moving on. I mean you thought I was dead for fucks sake. But did you even wait? To see?" he's spiraling, his words are venom but she can see the hurt in his eyes.

"Rick," she starts, finally a word able to escape. Her shaky tone is reminiscent of a person shushing a wild animal.

"it is Daryl isn't it? Who else would get you to mov-"

"Rick Jr." she cuts him off, her voice confident and it silences him, for minutes they sit in agonizing silence while Rick processes her words.

"Excuse me?" he asks, his voice cracking.

"Rick Jr," Michonne repeats, "is the only new man in my life."

It feels like their words are shattering all over again,

Rick, who was so sure she had moved on within a handful of months, and with hsi best friend, his brother. Hearing he has a namesake. A son. His eyes swell with tears, the information completing its route through his brain.

"I have a son?" its barely a whisper, every syllable shaky and hesitant.

"Yes. I found out right after you blew up the bridge." Michonne starts, feeling a weight off her chest as she moves closer to him, she holds his hand while she tells Rick everything she can about RJ.

They spend days holed up on the building, hiding from walkers and the CRM, talking and more. They make a plan. Rick finding out that he no longer has one kid to get back too, but two rejuvenates his energy to fight.

They fight their way all the way back home. Back to Alexandria. Spending months fighting side by side. They fall right back into their banter, Michonne teasing Rick about being an old man whenever he groans climbing on to something. They're happy. They're strong. They're together.

Almost a full year passes by the time they are knocking on the gates of Alexandria. Things have changed, aged, but it still looks like home. It's Aaron who opens the gate

He blurts out a "holy fuck you're alive." Before giving them both a hug.

They all laugh, Rick throwing out a "I could say the same about you." Before brushing past him looking at the community he once called his home. Completely rebuilt for the third (fourth?) time.

"Where's Jude?" he asks

"not here" Aaron says, and before he can continue Rick cuts him off

"what do you mean not here?" he growls out

"she's living with Carol in another community, it's called the commonwealth." he turns to Michonne "you've missed alot." they both laugh at the obvious, "I can take you to her, let me give them a heads up and get Gracie." Aaron states starting to walk away.

"Hey Aaron," Rick yells before Aaron can get too far

"yea?"

"don't tell her. I wanna surprise her." they both smile and Aaron nods before walking off

Three days later and Rick is all but shaking in anticipation, seeing how big Gracie has gotten took his breath away. How big has Judith gotten? How big is RJ? He never met his son before and yet he can't picture him bigger than a toddler.

Michonne grabs his hands when they see the gates. Aaron pulls out his walkie talkie and announces that they're coming in, the gates open and Carol and Ezekiel are waiting on the otherside waiting to greet them. Aaron couldn't hold his tongue telling Zeke, who couldn't hold his tongue and told Carol. They all vowed to secrecy about telling Judith, wanting to respect Rick's wishes.

There's hugs, long ones.

"it's been too long old friend." Ezekiel states after pulling away from Rick.

"that it has king." Rick says with a nod and a chuckle.

"ah, it's Governor now." Ezekiel laughs, the smile on his face unwavering.

Carols barely holding her tears together, she hasn't seen anybody from her original found family in so long and seeing Rick causes her emotional wall to crack. Their hug is long and sweet, before Carol pulls away telling Rick to follow her to the school to see Judith, class is almost over anyways. She links arms with Michonne for the walk, catching up with her old friend.

They get outside the school with minutes to spare. Rick's hands are shaking, he hasn't felt this nervous in a while. Will she recognize him? Will she run to Michonne and then have to be told who he is?

A bell tolls. Rick's breath catches.

Kids file out if the school, one after one, he doesn't recognize any of them, and it hits him. Will he know who she is?

As he starts to get stuck in his thoughts again he hears a yell. And it takes him back.

"DAD!!" Judith yells, abandoning her post where she waits for RJ and running at the man, her memory of him may have faded but he is so long from forgotten.

Rick bends down as she gets closer, the Impact of her tackling him with a hug knocks the breath out of him and he falls over.

"Judith!" he yells, hugging her tightly and kissing her head. "you're so grown up." he adds as tears start falling freely. He's missed her so much. He's missed so much.

"Judith?" a smaller voice yells from the crowd and it causes the two to separate. "Jude?"

"Over here!" Judith yells, her cheeks wet as she looks at Rick, "I knew mom would bring you back." she states and Ricks heart breaks for his little girl.

"MOM!" a little boy in a sheriffs hat yells as he makes it through the crowd, spotting his mom and running over. Michonne bends down and picks him up in a hug, swinging him around while telling him how much she's missed him.

When they separate RJ stares at Judith and Rick confused, and they all freeze. Time seems to stand still as Rick looks into his sons brown eyes.

Everything starts moving at once as both Judith and Michonne grab RJ's hands and gently pull him towards Rick. Michonne and Rick are both crouched to be at RJ's height and Michonne is the first to speak.

"Baby, this is your dad." she says, her voice soft as she watches the realization cross her sons face.

"Yhe brave man?" RJ asks, remembering the stories Judith would tell him.

"The very one!" Judith pipes up.

"Hi buddy." Rick says shakily.

Without notice RJ jumps onto Rick, hugging him, his right arm catching around Michonne's neck and his left arm catching around Judith's.

When they all pull apart, Rick is staring at his family speechless. He never thought he'd be here again. He thought he had lost them forever and that his kid(s) would grow up without him. Forgetting his existence, and yet. Here they are.

Growing up but not all grown up, remembering him and excited to have him back.

"We're safe here." Judith says, looking at both of her parents. "please don't leave again."

"Never again"

"I'm right here."

They both speak at the same time, their hearts breaking for their daughter. She's grown up so fast in so little time, and they weren't here to help her when she needed it.

But they're here now.

And they're here to stay.

Together.

#I wonder how Rick would react to hearing he has another son #twd #the walking dead #richonne #rick grimes #twd michonne #rj grimes #judith grimes #Long post #I CAME ON TUMBLR TO READ FICS #And somehow ended up making a Richonne one #This is all just stream of consciousness basically. There was no thought #Also Michonne is probably ooc because my thoughts were really on Rick grimes #Especially near the end #My bad #But also #Who cares? #I wrote this while sitting in a bathtub for like 2 hours #AND IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A BLURB

[arcane-apathy]

~Protective~

The Prize of War Masterlist 

AN: A little while ago I had someone mention in an ask that they’d love to see something from Kurakh’s perspective. I originally brushed it off, but I got a rush of inspiration to write a short piece. And because this month is so busy for me, I’ve barely had time to make any progress on upcoming chapters. Hopefully this will tide y’all over until I can actually update. While today may be my birthday, this is my little present to y’all. Thank y’all for your support, and I hope you’ll enjoy! 

Warning(s): Swearing, Suggestive Language, Angry Kurakh (he deserves his own warning)

 A week has passed since the first snow. And whilst beautiful, the cold was a shock to many in the horde. It was becoming more of a struggle to leave the warmth of the furs in the morning. Kurakh didn't know how Odmili did it with ease each morning. Their usual rolls have switched, with her getting up first to put wood into the fireplace before getting ready for the day. Her routine never changed. Starting with her boots, then brushing the knots from her hair before braiding it and hiding it beneath the cap. 

  Kurakh hated that cap. While it had its purpose, it hid the maid’s best feature. Much like her entire outfit. Designed to hide the personality of the wearer, to diminish their importance despite the skills they possess. The sleeves are long, neckline high, hemline to the ankles, and baggy. Everything she wore was rough to the touch. Purely utilitarian. And she deserved better, even if she thought she didn’t. But despite the habit’s best efforts, Kurakh couldn’t ignore the maid’s beauty. To the point that he struggled with daily tasks. 

  “You’re not even cutting any wood, you’re just staring,” Eteos grumbles beside him. 

  “Sorry, just got distracted,” he turns away from her just as she looks at him. Schelura laughed alongside her as they got water from the well across the camp. 

  “Tends to be happening more and more buddy,” the centaur smirks as he splits another log. “When’s the wedding?” 

  “Be quiet,” he huffs while putting the split pieces in the cart. 

  “You’re being a big baby. She obviously likes you back.” 

  “You don’t know that.” 

  “We offered her a room to herself, she refused. Marvi offered to help her make a second bed pad, but she refused. I tried to rescue her and she jumped off my back. She likes you!” 

  “I don’t want to rush her…” 

  “Well you better get a move on before someone else does. I’ve got too many horny, single men in this camp. Who would love nothing more than to be up her skirt.” Kurakh frowned and split a log, trying to ignore it. “Speaking of, here comes one now… Hello Fergal, how’s the leg?” 

  Kurakh could see the Tiefling out of the corner of his good eye as he chopped, “hello Commander, Warchief.” Nodding to each of them respectively, “it’s fine, just sore, not as bad as the first two days.” 

  “That’s good. Why don’t you make yourself a little useful and stack the wood neatly in the cart? There’s not much to catch up on, since someone here is distracted,” Eteos teases. 

  “I’m sure the Warchief has a lot on his mind,” Fergal smiles and begins to straighten the contents of the cart. Kurakh rolls his eyes before chopping more wood. The silence quickly ruined, “Warchief may I ask you something?” 

  Kurakh sighs, “go ahead.” 

  “What is the Maid of Eia like?” 

  “Why do you want to know?” 

  “I’ve lived in Evor all of my life, the clergy of any deity is mysterious to the common folk. We only see them on holidays, major life events, or when dying… She’s also very pretty.” 

  Eteos watches Kurakh carefully, the orc standing at his full height. “She is an honorable woman with many skills, and a great addition to the horde. The rest of my people would agree.” 

  “She’s nice,” the Tiefling smiles. “Although she’s got quite the mouth on her, I think I can find a better use for it. I know she’s smart and all, but those maids take vows of chastity… I’d be happy to teach her a few things. Not like I’ve done it before, maids are always fun to break in.” 

Kurakh grips his axe tighter, “you’ve done it before?” 

  “Several times, not just Maids of Eia. But they tend to be the most fun, considering they know how everything works down there.” Eteos watches as Kurakh places his axe on the ground, taking a step towards Fergal as his back is turned. “And getting to see what’s under that habit is the best part. They always seem more shapely than the habit lets on. I’m sure she has fat ass underneath that blue mess of fabric.” Fergal turns around, freezing as he realizes how close Kurakh was. 

  “I’m only going to say this one time, and you will not have a smartass response. I can still reach my axe and you can’t run that well. The Maid of Eia is not a trophy for you to win or a shiny new toy for you to play with. And you will never speak of her in such a way ever again. You will only speak to her only on matters of your health. Do you understand me? 

  “Yes sir.” 

  Kurakh leans in just a tad bit closer, his voice quieter yet just as stern as before. “And don’t even think that you can be sneaky about it either. I’m the one she shares a bed with, and I’m the one who holds her at night. I will find out. One step out of line and I will feed you to my warg, alive. Have I made my intentions clear?” 

  “Y-Yes Warchief.” 

  “Good, now go find someone else you annoy,” Kurakh steps away from him. Just enough for him to move away from the cart. The injured Tiefling limps away with his tail between his legs. The few bystanders quickly acted like they weren’t listening to every word. “So you sort wood while I chop,” the orc lifts his axe with a sigh.  

  Eteos rolls his eyes, “feeding him to your warg? A bit much, isn’t it?.” 

  “Not when it concerns her.”

#tpow #male orc x female reader #High Fantasy #orc x reader #my work #snippet #m orc x f reader #tpow series #fantasy

[mariana-oconnor]

The Empty House pt 1

Now, in the hour of our greatest need, a hero rises to answer the call. Our dear friend John Watson provides food for our reading appetites and bravely returns to write the tales of his dearly departed* partner, Sherlock Holmes.

*all facts correct at time of writing

You may be forgiven for assuming that my silence indicated that ‘The Final Problem’ truly was the end of my association with Sherlock Holmes, and indeed of the man himself. The passage of time and many subsequent tellings of the tale has not diminished me joy in saying that it was not so.

WHAT??!

No, seriously though, the fact that Letters from Watson is going with the conceit that Watson knew when he sent the email that Holmes wasn't dead and then just went radio silent for three weeks is fucking hilarious. It's what Holmes would have wanted. I mean, he's not dead, but even so. I love the dramatic bitch energy here.

It was in the spring of the year 1894

I feel like this is as definite and accurate a date as we're ever going to get in these stories.

Also, I have definitely read this one before, multiple times. Partially for my own enjoyment when I was younger, but also during my Sherlock fandom phase where I needed to verify some original canon so I could mutate it terribly for my own personal amusement.

I definitely remember whodunnit and how this time, but I'm not sure if that's actually going to be the mystery.

Only now, at the end of nearly ten years,

So this is a story set in 1894, written in 1903, read by us in 2023.

I should have considered it my first duty to have done so had I not been barred by a positive prohibition from his own lips, which was only withdrawn upon the third of last month.

So Holmes stayed 'dead' officially for 13 years? I mean, I guess this is also sort of ACD saying 'please stop sending me death threats. Here it is. He was never really dead. I surrender I surrender.'

As I read the evidence at the inquest, which led up to a verdict of wilful murder against some person or persons unknown

Totally read this wrong at first as though the murder was against the person or persons unknown. 'We know a murder has taken place, but we don't know who, or even if it was only one person or multiple. But it was definitely murder.' But no, it's the verdict that's against them, not the murder.

There were points about this strange business which would, I was sure, have specially appealed to him, and the efforts of the police would have been supplemented, or more probably anticipated, by the trained observation and the alert mind of the first criminal agent in Europe.

It is pretty tragic to think of Watson reading the paper and sighing to himself as he thinks of how Holmes could have helped. But then also casually throwing shade at the police officers, also in tribute to Holmes' memory.

Adair's mother had returned from Australia to undergo the operation for cataract

Health tourism has a long and varied history. In a time before aeroplanes that's a long way to go and a long time to take for surgery. Did Australia really not have any opthalmologists worth their salt at this time? I mean, I don't know how good even the surgeons in London would have been with that sort of surgery, it's a little more finesse than amputations and they had enough difficulty with them. Got to assume that if you're going to take that long travelling for the surgery, there's got to be a reasonable improvement in your chances for survival.

OK, wow, the history of cataract surgery is long and I do not advise you to look it up if you are in any way squeamish about or squicked out by eye stuff. But apparently the earliest cataract surgeries known are in the 5th century BC, although modern surgery methods didn't seem to really get good until around the 1950s. Basically yes, infection was very possible and her vision would never be the same again.

That was very educational and quite unpleasant.

Ronald Adair was fond of cards, playing continually, but never for such stakes as would hurt him. He was a member of the Baldwin, the Cavendish, and the Bagatelle card clubs. It was shown that after dinner on the day of his death he had played a rubber of whist at the latter club.

I know it says that he never played for stakes that would hurt him, but I feel like being a member of three different clubs is a sign of something. Also, the fact that he recently broke up with his fiancee really needs to be relevant later because I cannot imagine why it would be included if not. At least as a red herring.

Mr. Murray, Sir John Hardy, and Colonel Moran

I wonder which of them is important? Clearly it must be Mr Murray. Absolutely could not be Colonel Moran, who is a colonel and therefore a respectable member of society who would never be associated with any crimes.

I stg ACD had some sort of beef with a colonel at some point in time. That's the only possible explanation. OTHER RANKS ARE AVAILABLE.

She had lit a fire there, and as it smoked she had opened the window.

They need their chimneys checked. Where are the chimney sweeps? I was under the impression that Victorian London was full of chimney sweeps. Was I lied to? Shove a small child up that chimney at once!

The door was locked on the inside, and no answer could be got to their cries and knocking. Help was obtained and the door forced. The unfortunate young man was found lying near the table. His head had been horribly mutilated by an expanding revolver bullet, but no weapon of any sort was to be found in the room.

Locked room mystery! Locked room mystery! Locked room mystery!

The window is open, but this is the second floor, and it's worth noting for any American readers, that in the UK the second floor is one higher than you think. We have ground floor, first floor, then second floor. So that's a pretty high window to reach.

(Unless there was already a small child lying in wait up the chimney...)

A minute examination of the circumstances served only to make the case more complex. In the first place, no reason could be given why the young man should have fastened the door upon the inside.

Sometimes people just lock doors. I automatically lock doors behind me sometimes. My brain is just like 'ooh, lock!' I made my flatmate at university think I hated her because I used to lock myself into my room, but I just... be like that.

There was the possibility that the murderer had done this and had afterwards escaped by the window. The drop was at least twenty feet, however, and a bed of crocuses in full bloom lay beneath. Neither the flowers nor the earth showed any sign of having been disturbed, nor were there any marks upon the narrow strip of grass which separated the house from the road.

So I know how this goes, but I feel there is a very real alternative solution to this puzzle that involves a circus troupe, an archer and a tightrope walker. Not sure how they'd get the tightrope back, but that can be sorted out in editing.

Again, Park Lane is a frequented thoroughfare, and there is a cab-stand within a hundred yards of the house.

Fine, people would probably notice the tightrope walking clown...

^ This guy could do it, is all I'm saying. (Although he would definitely use more than one bullet...)

since, as I have said, young Adair was not known to have any enemy, and no attempt had been made to remove the money or valuables in the room.

No one who gambles that much and consistently wins can be entirely enemy-free, that seems unlikely.

As I did so I struck against an elderly deformed man, who had been behind me, and I knocked down several books which he was carrying. [...] With a snarl of contempt he turned upon his heel, and I saw his curved back and white side-whiskers disappear among the throng.

Oh hai, Holmes. I'm not 100% that this is Holmes but lbr, this is Holmes. The snarl of contempt and abrupt about turn is totally to conceal his identity. Also I want to read The Origins of Tree Worship is it a real book? I feel like it has the potential to be the basis for a decent fantasy book.

but the window was entirely inaccessible, since there was no water-pipe or anything which could help the most active man to climb it.

I had not been in my study five minutes when the maid entered to say that a person desired to see me.

Drum roll please

I moved my head to look at the cabinet behind me. When I turned again Sherlock Holmes was standing smiling at me across my study table.

Certainly a grey mist swirled before my eyes, and when it cleared I found my collar-ends undone and the tingling after-taste of brandy upon my lips. Holmes was bending over my chair, his flask in his hand.

This surprise reveal brought to you by:

Brandy!

If Brandy doesn't save you, at least you'll die drunk!

“My dear Watson,” said the well-remembered voice, “I owe you a thousand apologies. I had no idea that you would be so affected.”

No.

Shit.

Sherlock.

Yeah, totally unbelievable that your bff who has thought you were dead for two years and probably blames himself at least somewhat for falling for the obvious ruse and leaving you alone on the cliffside to face your demise, might POSSIBLY be A LITTLE BIT affected by YOU RISING FROM THE DEAD BEFORE HIS EYES.

You are such a dramatic little chaos gremlin and it's great, but a truly spectacular lack of forethought here.

"Now, my dear fellow, in the matter of these explanations we have, if I may ask for your co-operation, a hard and dangerous night's work in front of us. Perhaps it would be better if I gave you an account of the whole situation when that work is finished.”

Casually rolls back into town, greets bff. 'Like, I could tell you how come I'm not dead, but instead we could both risk our lives first... what do you think?'

"I had no serious difficulty in getting out of it, for the very simple reason that I never was in it.”

A cliffhanger - literally??

Disappointed we only got two synonyms for the falls though: "awful abyss" and "dreadful chasm" I was hoping for some other ones. "merciless maw", "terrible void", "cruel crevasse", "fell fall", "godawful gap". Hopefully some more can be shoehorned into the next bit.

#Letters from Watson #Sherlock Holmes #The Empty House #long post

[chambersandfogg]

November 21st, 1918

They said we’d be home by Christmas and, against all odds, that may very well be true.

It’s over. We will not have to endure another endless winter in the mud and ice, watching our fellow soldiers’ toes turn black. I only suffered one such season, but I believe I may be done with both the cold and the outdoors for quite some time because of it.

I am not built for this. If I am being honest with myself, I don’t think anyone is built for this. There is something inhuman, unnatural, to this war. I understand that man has fought with man for as long as we’ve walked this earth, but this war is something beyond the realm of human conflict. It is as if we’ve been given the power of the gods and have decided to wage war with it despite being mere mortals ourselves.

They are calling it the Great War. Or the “war to end all wars”. I think the former lends it too much grandiosity and the latter is foolishly optimistic. We are all tired, worn out from the endless tension, the dwindling rations, the howling whistle of mortar shells before they explode, and I have no doubt that the other side feels just the same. And yet I also have no doubt that even this unending destruction has failed to sate the blood-lust that seems to run so deep in the veins of man. This war will not end wars; it has merely changed them.

There is no glory in battle. This is what I have discovered. It is not like the tales of knights and kings that I read as a boy. It is brutish and cruel, turning man into something less than he is. I feel diminished.

When it became clear that I had been given the great gift of, at the very least, an exceptionally long life, if not an unending one, I began to revel in the idea that I should get closer to experiencing every aspect of the human condition than any man has ever come before. And I set out immediately to make that true. I have traveled far and wide, have performed on the world’s great stages, have taken lovers on two continents, have read more books, attended more theatrical performances, eaten more delicious food and drank more expensive wine than I could have ever imagined. I have been to war. I have killed.

Not all human experience is made equal. This is at the very heart of the discovery I have made. Fighting in this terrible conflict, seeing the light go out of another man’s eyes, has put into stark relief just how blessed I have been in my life. I had an inkling of my own good fortune, of course. Lord knows my parents always made sure to tell me that I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth and that I would be a fool to spit it out. But my life had not been without its hardship. I spent decades toiling in a career that I was ready to give up on before the tides turned. I have had public failures and hundreds of arguments with my family. I have been lonely. But I hadn’t experienced true pain until this last year.

Charles has experienced pain in his life. Many times. The loss of his mother hit him terribly hard, and I suspect his childhood was difficult, though he has never told me all that much about it, despite my occasional prodding. He has always been the yardstick against which I measure my accomplishments, but in recent years he’s become a kind of mirror as well. After all, who else on this earth could understand me or the way that I experience the world?

Except he doesn’t understand me. And I don’t understand him, not really. I’m sorry to say that our arguments over my joining the war effort did not cease as the months marched on. I had gone to great lengths to conceal my injury from him while I was still under the watchful eye of the medics—he had no reason to discover that I was receiving his letters to the infirmary—but he uncovered the truth all the same. And it didn’t seem to matter that, by that point, I was back in the field with only a scarred thigh to show for it; he took every opportunity after that to chastise me for getting blown up and encourage me to abandon my compatriots and go home. Yet he refused to be reasoned with when I suggested he be the one to leave the war.

It angered me, that he could so clearly see how ill-equipped I was for the front. Especially considering that he was never in combat the way that I was. How should he know what it takes to drive a bayonet through a man when all his killing occurred in a lab?

I shouldn’t squabble over the ways in which the war has scarred us. And, to be fair to Charlie, I have no idea if he is still relatively unscathed. I know he’s alive, he wrote me on the eleventh, seemingly as soon as he had heard the news, though I only just now received the letter. But I have not seen him in the flesh since his leave in London in ’16. Despite being, I imagine, mere miles apart at times, the war never did bring our paths together. Just as he had wanted. But it does strike me as strange, that I have run into him unexpectedly so many times in my life, but the moment I make an effort to find him, he eludes me.

Perhaps that is precisely the problem. Perhaps whatever means he used to learn of my injury also alerted him to every instance I tried to learn his current whereabouts. Perhaps it wasn’t that I couldn’t find him, but that he didn’t want to be found.

[from the personal diary of J.S. Fogg]

[listen to New Year’s Day wherever you get your podcasts. to read the pre-1917 entries, join atypical artists and get access to the archive of 24 entries (5,000+ words), as well as ad-free episodes. to receive future monthly missives straight to your inbox, sign up for free here]

#journal #fogg #chambers and fogg #new year's day podcast #lauren shippen

[grislyintentions]

@nekasu (x)

"And you are still not listening." Even after hearing everything she had to convey about her unease, he still clung onto the belief that he is justified for wearing away at her. That he had no part to play for her pain. To believe that it bears no validity just because he believed his intentions were not to hurt still does not justify nor diminish the fact that it does. What good is there to be achieved when he alone continues to shirk responsibility under the pretext of 'explaining his perspective'?

"You are doing exactly what you claim to not be doing. If you truly cared for my opinions or me even the slightest, you would acknowledge that you have caused me pain. Not prioritise explaining why you don't think you have or why I should see that you were not trying to." Was this how he treats her sister too? Or was it just because it is her that warrants such cruelty? "I do not need you to instill doubt in me. I alone am able to create such doubts, to analyse the situation and seek differing perspectives to close gaps in what I could not. If you believe that you have been fulfilling your role as an advisor, then you are sorely mistaken. All that you have done, all that you continue to do, is suffocate me. To poison me with so much distrust over my own capabilities that I hesitate and hesitate even further to conduct anything at all. That constant mistreatment is not something that would 'aid me in pushing past my doubts' or 'drive me towards improvements'. My ability to learn, to push past my doubts have all been hampered by your constant torment." Ridiculous. "I am not Makoto. I will never be her. I will never govern Inazuma the way she does. And I do not require you to make up whatever it is that you think I need. If you truly cared, you would ask what I needed and how best you could aid me. If you truly cared, you would accept that all your efforts to 'help' have only worsened things. If you truly cared, you would neither patronise me nor force me into mind games in order to ascertain what you meant. If you truly cared, you would trust me to do what is best for the people and plainly explained or guide me into areas where I am unable to relate to. Instead of speaking in vague expectation and then punishing me for not comprehending. You say your intentions were to aid, yet I only see your penchant for acting above all others and thinking you know better. And until you can reflect on where it is you have failed on your part to guide me, until you can reflect on how it is that you were cruel, I do not think we will be able to hold that conversation on equal terms. You are not hearing me. You are telling me how all you do was for my own good: And I am telling you now that it is not."

She may not be the perfect archon, nor is she one that her people deserved. But at the end of the day, Ei continues to persist in spite of never wishing to step into her sister's role in the first place. It is laughable for one who does not bear the weight of the entire nation on their shoulders to point, criticise, judge, preach and punish her for her efforts.

"What you have done is no different from what members of the Commission who colluded with the Fatui had done with the Shogun. Think about that."

#nekasu #angst cw #minimising tw

[rock-and-roll-hell]

October 28, 1982

Creatures of the Night is released

Recorded: July–September 1982

Studio: Record Plant, Los Angeles; Record One, Los Angeles; Media Sound, New York City

Creatures of the Night is the tenth studio album by KIϟϟ, released in 1982. It was the band's last for Casablanca Records, the only label for which they had recorded up to that point. The album was dedicated to the memory of Casablanca founder Neil Bogart, who had died of cancer during the recording sessions. It is also the band's last album recorded with Ace Frehley credited as an official member and their first albupm with Vinnie Vincent, as the initially uncredited lead guitarist. Vinnie would later be credited but not featured on the cover of the 1985 reissue of the album. It was also KIϟϟ' last album to feature the band with their trademark makeup until their 1998 release Psycho Circus.

By 1982, KIϟϟ' popularity in the US had plummeted due to changing musical tastes and their near abandonment of hard rock. 1979's Dynasty, while commercially successful, alienated many fans with the disco-flavored track "I Was Made for Lovin' You." 1980's Unmasked fell further into pop music and was KIϟϟ' first album not to achieve platinum status since 1975's Dressed to Kill. Fan hopes were raised in 1980 when KIϟϟ announced that they were going to record their heaviest record yet. Instead, the band released Music from "The Elder" in late 1981, a concept album originally intended to complement a film called The Elder that was ultimately never filmed. Despite confidence from Ezrin this would recreate the success from Destroyer, the album did not improve the band's status, and on the contrary, further diminished KIϟϟ’ US fanbase, failed to achieve gold status, and having cancelled their US Unmasked Tour just a short time before, the band then called off the planned tour for Music from "The Elder."

The album represented a conscious effort by KIϟϟ to return to the hard rock style that had helped them achieve commercial success with Destroyer and Love Gun. The first key ingredient was songwriter/guitarist Vinnie Vincent, who was soon to replace Frehley as the band's new lead guitarist after being introduced to the band by album co-writer Adam Mitchell. Paul called KIϟϟ "a heavy metal band" in 1982. "I Still Love You", the only ballad on Creatures of the Night, was still heavier and darker than any ballad KIϟϟ had released in earlier years. Also contributing to the heavy sound was Carr's drumming style. Creatures of the Night is the first KIϟϟ album to have all lead vocal duties handled by either Gene or Paul exclusively. KIϟϟ had used "ghost players" on previous albums, but Vinnie handled most of the lead guitar as a session player and co-writer before being added as the full-time replacement for Ace, though as an employee and not a full member.

Though Ace did not play on the album, his face was still featured on the album cover for contractual and commercial reasons. Ace had been pushing the band to do a heavy rock record since Dynasty, and by the time of Creatures of the Night, he was fully disillusioned with the band; alcoholism and a prescription medicine dependency (begun after a car wreck) led to him not participating in the recording sessions. In fact, when recording sessions for Creatures of the Night began in July 1982, KIϟϟ was essentially a trio. It was only after the album was released and a short promotional tour of Europe was completed that Frehley officially left KIϟϟ. The lead guitar replacement for Ace for the Creatures Tour in the US was Vinnie, adopting his Egyptian Ankh makeup, hastily designed by Paul.

 "Basically, we feel that everybody is a creature of the night. We're all less inhibited and we're all vampires. The night makes people feel free and then by the cold light of dawn we crawl home to our coffins to behave like normal people during the day." - Paul Stanley

Despite positive reviews, the album did not return the band to the commercial success they had held five years prior. The album would not attain gold status until 1994.

Fun Fact: I have an original pressing of the reissued cover with Bruce on it! (These aren't my photos tho) Apparently that's Gene's ass as the back cover

#kisstory #kiss #1982 #creatures of the night #eric carr #ace frehley #paul stanley #gene simmons #kiss band #kiss army #the fox #the spaceman #the starchild #the demon #vinnie Vincent #bruce Kulick

[ceruleanrequiem]

ANE - Look how they massacred my boys

Let's go for the massacre! Most of the male characters follow the current trend of emasculation: they are either comic relief, or extremely dumb, or angry authoritarians, you name it. But all these categories have something in common: villains in ANE are ALL men.

I have other posts planned, just need to finish translations, but you might notice that most of my points made in these two posts were plot-based. So, again, no need to call me names (and even if you do, I won't change my mind anyway)

First, the emasculated ones:

LEIFTAN: I'm over the fact that Leiftan, who previously talked about leaving, out of nowhere was blackmailed offscreen by the script and stayed, otherwise there would be no way to have interactions with him. But for me, I'd rather he hadn't come back in ANE if he was to become another HH lapdog. And they ended up using as a device in the Earth plot, making the Leifstans lose TWO episodes with him because of it, in a season that had nothing of romance compared to before. Fine, Leiftan wants to "be someone better" and stop being a daemon, but as someone who has been frustrated by not being able to be NEITHER a villain nor a daemon in TO, that was disappointing.

MATHIEU: And yes, I know the idea was to bring in a himbo and have him mature as the game progresses, but gosh… the script didn't help one bit. Eel is so dumb that the only conclusion we come to is that Charles (after all he is sooo evil) considered the faerys so inferior that he didn't even bother to send someone skilled to go look for his daughter, in his mind they would be too dumb to be suspicious of any clue Mat left: like not making an effort to learn alchemy and not getting along with HC, then a big coincidence happens and he's the most likely cause of it, but NO ONE realizes. I thought he pretended to be an idiot and to this day I am sure that was the strategy, but nothing was said about it, I don't think the company even thought about it. HC was the only one who in an indirect way saw that something was wrong, but by force of the script she was forced to keep quiet until she almost died on Earth because of him. Being a simp of Koori and Lance and making me spend maana with useless conversations in the beginning did not help me to keep my interest and I ended up not only changing LI, but agreeing with HC in everything regarding him. I can't believe they took Ezarel out to put this loser in ANE. What is the excuse for this? Renewing the plot because they were afraid to address the adoption issue or something since Ezarel practically adopted the infanticide? Or because it would be too difficult/controversial and they decided to change it? If that's the case, they were rather incoherent, considering how brave they are in terms of non-hetero couples's destinies. Well, it was no use, because Mathieu was just another wasted plot/character. As the saying goes, there's no point in casting pearls before swine.

CHROME: WHAT HAVE THEY DONE TO MY LITTLE KING????? Despite being nothing more than a Karenn simp in TO, Chrome had his qualities at the time. Smart, focused, studious, an excellent alchemist, a friend, he was the one who reaches out for Leiftan asking help to avenge his parents. Guys, do you realize he was sharp enough to see through Leif's goodboi facade? Then in ANE Koori has the nerve to say that "he was not fit for the meticulous work that is required of an alchemist," I had no reaction. I must remind you that it was not Chrome who blew up the Alchemy lab in ANE's first episodes the first time we see him, hein :) (and even so she's still described as "EXCELLENT ALCHEMIST". Oh c'mon!). In ANE he has become another himbo, he has no abilities other than to turn into a wolf, thumbs up, not even can he foresee enemy attack and save dumb friends from dangerous creatures in the forest. Because, y'know to exalt Karenn they need to diminish Chrome, whatever means possible. It's never the opposite.

Now Characters who were EXTREMELY DUMBED.

NEVRA: I haven't liked Nevra since TO, his personality didn't appeal to me. In ANE he would be totally indifferent to me… IF NOT for the way he treated Leiftan, demanding that in less than a year he would be 100% recovered and available to the Guard to be treated like a mere hound by everyone. I doubt he did the same thing with Lance… oops, wait, by force of script Lance was in jail for a year and already came out with his mind reformed! And if we draw a parallel, he complains about Erika's behavior who somewhat disapproves him for Nevra not being the way he used to be, almost demanding him to treat her the way he used to, even if you are not on his route.

Erika does to Nevra what Nevra does to Leiftan, but then it's impossible, right? The others MUST give in to his orders, but HE can't give in because "he has changed", "lost friends and/or girlfriend". And if the writing addressed the situation in this direction it could have been really nice, but obviously no, we had none of that. I understand the situation, however it "explains but doesn't justify" it.

But I like the fact that Nevra by the position he occupies, his austere expression doesn't match the "Captains Marvel" of the Guard, since he doesn't need to force any demonstration of power or draw attention to himself by whatever means necessary, he already naturally exudes that aura and so it's much harder to subdue him than Mathieu and Leiftan. Nevra can even oPprESs royalty, who feels so intimidated (that's the feeling I got from the character sprite at the time) in his presence that the character resorts to bad jokes instead of talking to him normally. And if she musters the courage to speak out, it is only because of panic attacks caused by a trip where she was forced to go because company demanded it.

Ah, but let's not forget his authority breakdowns and that's where the character is destroyed. First of all: Ewelein tells Erika that they're short of resources to make healing potions, I assume as Guard leader Nevra must be informed of that as well? Was he informed? I guess not, plot conveniently says nothing about it. If they're short of resources, they won't have more than one potion to protect his skin on Earth, correct? Which means THEY CAN'T take their sweet time on Earth, they need to hurry. But what happens? Nevra decides to assert his authority and force them to eat. NEVER would Nevra expose the Guard members that way. Any justification related to "better eat because the mission is risky, long, dangerous, you will need strength" goes downhill. In the Genkaku mission nobody ate anything before or during the mission, and it must have been at least a day of travel + a whole day investigating that building. In a mission on Earth of course they had to eat before, but NO ONE remembered?! Eating on Earth would cause them to lose time and still take unnecessary risks as it conveniently ended up happening. And from Erika's descriptions, she was so anxious that she wasn't hungry, weren't the other HQ members also anxious at least a little? In other words, Leiftan was kidnapped solelly thanks to Nevra's dumb decision, it's all on him, it's his fault. (it's actually the fault of whoever thought up and developed that plot, but that's okay). Even so, I HIGHLY doubt that Nevra and Lance couldn't stand some hours without food.

Now the Toxic ones :D

TENJIN: Of course, right? lol I won't take too long, but this is probably the second cruelest villain in the game according to the crimes he committed, losing only to Charles. You already know what I think, more and more I am understanding what the "show, don't tell" means, thanks to hive that gives great examples this season. Koori's main characteristic is that she is always joking and we never know when she is telling the truth or not. We only heard her version of the story, and what we heard from his version was very little, so as much as the game forces Erika and her to be best friends, I don't trust her.

Did he really "take power" and nobody said anything? Did he manage to convince everyone? Like, everyone?! We see from the map that Genkaku is continental, he would need to go all over the kingdom trying to convince them and from what we saw of Tenjin, he is so paranoid and tyrannical that he would never leave his castle. Or are you saying that thanks to the magic of the script he controls everyone's mind just like the magnanimous HH does? Because that one, by force of script, controls the minds of everyone there!

Or do you mean that he has spontaneous popular support? If this support is spontaneous it is because the reign of Koori's family was not good then, and hers wouldn't be either. Ok, we saw that he seems to have immeasurable charisma to fool her parents, and even the Councilors to the point of changing the legislation and removing her from power, BUT as far as I remember, coups don't happen by themselves. Again: didn't anyone from the three sectors of kitsune society support her? Because Tenjin tells us that the faerys of Genkaku thought she had been KIDNAPPED by Eel, and he said his soldiers weren't that happy for that. It's been five years (I guess she arrives at the same year as Mathieu, two years after the sacrifice) and you'll tell me that Tenjin haven't sent somebody to retrieve her? If he were that bad he wouldn't respect Eel's sovereignty, they're on bad terms already what difference would make to attack the HQ to take his wife back? None! But we hear nothing about Tenjin attacking Eel, which means he's prudent enough to avoid sending his people to fight a lost war (after all HQ has an ice dragon), therefore avoiding getting his reputation tainted. As an usurper, he would need support to keep his position, otherwise he would have been deposed the first day he declared himself king, a VERY powerful support for that matter huh? Either from the peasants, the military, or the nobility.

And from the looks of it, Koori didn't have the loyalty of any of those three, for we hear NOTHING about resistance in the north, no one respects her enough to fight for her because ur durr Tenjin was too powerful. C'mon guys, are Tenjin and Koori the only seven-tailed kitsune in Genkaku now or what? And even if players blame Tenjin for "mindcontrolling" his people in order to justify Koori's isolation, we hear nothing about Tenjin erasing the kitsunes memories of her in order to manipulate them, we only know that he bruteforced his way into the kingship by killing her parents.

But I'm pretty sure that Canon Tenjin's support didn't come from the military: all the sprites of kitsunes we saw next to Tenjin had only three tails, so it seems that the army in canon doesn't seem to be that strong. And I don't think a powerful but paranoid leader like Tenjin would allow his escort to be composed of such weak kitsunes. Not to mention that we don't hear anything about him exterminating other kitsunes whose number of tails is higher, the script doesn't explain ANY of that to us.

Since in ANE women are saint and perfect, we can only conclude that his support is spontaneous because the script wanted it that way. After all Koori's parents are powerful and smart to rule a kingdom, but at the same time they were so dumb to be fooled by Tenjin. Well, like parents, like daughter huh? Anyway, I said more than I should have, but Genkaku is one of the biggest holes in terms of plot, not bad for a villain who was written only to be a macho regicide, huh?

CHARLES - The cruelest, most cartoonish villain I've ever seen in this game, and he gave me extreme shame. His existence alone is a major plot hole, because in TO when Erika looks at Leiftan she feels something familiar, comforting, a feeling that she described as being a feeling she had for her mother, at the time I thought that her mother was aengel, not the father. Not to mention that she lost contact with her grandmother from her mother side iirc, meaning it confirms that the faery blood came through her mother. And again, TO shows us how fondly she remembered her father, as much as he was stern (as every big company owner is) he had a good heart and one example was that he was very fond of cats. And Erika realizes in ANE that her room was rebuilt, he remembered every detail of her room, no matter how much some minor details were left out. The mother even divorced Charles because he's kept talking about Erika all those years. But then the company wasted this very high potential villain with the cheapest plot that time and the superiors allowed: "we are experimenting on faerys, and I am the head of the organization MUAHUHAUAH". Was he useful for the plot? Yes, but at the very cost of the plot anyway. First case of Literary cannibalism I've ever seen.

COMIC RELIEF:

ORGELZ - He's just like Tenjin, the difference is that Orgelz is a coward, which makes him a satire on villains. They probably wrote Orgelz like this because the fandom was dying to see how handsome Nevra's father was, and after they saw that we were simping for villains, they changed tactics and created an ugly Orgelz, as well as writing that he was not the father, but another usurper who killed Nevra's father and took over. I don't understand this company: they're not afraid of killing and splitting non-hetero couples apart, but apparently they are afraid of how quickly the audience falls in love with the villains they create, no matter if the villains are toxic or a murderer. In terms of plot he doesn't add anything either, as much as people say it served to make Nevra think and talk to Erika (in an attempt at moral ambiguity that didn't make a difference in the end), Tenjin essentially said the same thing as Orgelz, WITH WAY LESS WASTE OF MAANAS, and back then Nevra didn't even bother to think about it, when he could have. It was convenient, just as it was convenient to go to Yaqut because the company owed us a Nevra arc.

THE "WHATEVER" CASES:

KARUTO AND ZIFU - I put the two together because they serve the same role, fatherly support, but nothing beyond that. But for a change, hive doesn't seem to know how to write non-hetero stories without someone ending up dead, betrayed, or becoming an extremist.

JAMON - I have no opinion of Jamon, I think he fits more into comic relief, maybe. He's pretty much "whatever" in my concept. In terms of usefulness in the plot he adds nothing.

LANCE - Lance is another case that I don't think has that much plot relevance if you don't play his route. The only usefulness is that he keeps Erika from having more moments with the routes, because in the rescue moments he is always the one who saves her. And this was being forced more and more because Erika is unable to decide whether she is strong or weak, in the end he was just a plot device to facilitate the scriptwriters' work who would not need to write different scenes with the other three, SACRIFICING THE ALREADY SCARCE TIME we wanted with the routes. To this day I can't come to terms with the first 'opportunity for romance interaction' we could have had: the one on the ship when Erika falls into the sea and the LI could have gone after her. No, instead, I had to endure him and more other moments that I, as a non-Lancer, was not in the least bit interested.

They even tried to imitate Marvel and make Lance the new Thor, put him in as comic relief because he couldn't speak the word electricity. And ok, he appeared at the end to stop Erika from killing Charles. Seihai in her place would have already said something like "fratricides have no moral right to lecture me" and killed Charles anyway, precisely because Seihai is sure that somehow Charles would escape and kill faerys again if he had the chance.

For someone who was so furious before because he was in Eel as boss, Erika should have spoken up sooner. But coincidentally the plot demands that Erika forget and they take so long to talk about Valkyon that his words in ep 18 are worthless at this point, Erika's path, be it aengel or daemon, is already mapped out, so for me his speech was kind of useless.

[avatarvyakara]

Encantubre: What It Means to Me

Tres: Tragedy

“Ay, Bruno,” murmurs Alma, “could you not try to give us a happier story?”

* * *

Julieta finds herself cataloguing weaknesses, not out of any desire to act upon them but in the hopes of diminishing them. Pepa can become too involved in things, feeling with all her heart. Bruno tends to back away from the point, then sink into self-caused loneliness—it’s getting worse as he grows older. Mamá has always been good at denial, Félix at being a little too blunt sometimes. Her Tino’s fatal flaw is a tendency to assume flaws won’t be fatal.

And Julieta’s? Well, if she’s flattering herself, she’d say a compulsive need to be over-prepared for the worst.

Unfortunately, she also sometimes stays a step or two back in terms of “How bad can this actually get?”

Because the encanto would stop the worst.

Right?

* * *

“She’s speaking out at her sister’s proposal,” sobs Pepa, while Bruno tucks a towel around her shoulders. “She risked everything on a single gambit, and it failed!”

“What? No!”

“I know! All that effort, and she—”

Surprisingly, when she reads stories which lead even the heavens to weep, Pepa always manages to keep the books dry.

* * *

“Seriously, Mamá,” insists Bruno, “it’s cathartic.”

“Brunito, how is it cathartic that Paola’s secret lover is actually her amnesiac uncle? In what possible universe is that cathartic?”

“…Mamá, for the love of God, do not, and I cannot stress this enough, ever visit Macondo.”

* * *

Everyone knows about Bruno’s stories. Not just his predictions, sure, everyone knows about those. But for people his age, Bruno’s stories are the clincher. When the prophet is actually out and about in town—less and less these days—he always carries a small, leather-bound notebook he got for his quinceañero. Occasionally some of the better ideas Bruno will submit to the village for production purposes; the rest he puts on himself with his pet rats.

Of course, that’s only one part of the entertainment. (Félix, personally, is a wizard at game shows.) But it’s the part that gains the most scrutiny around town, as villagers try to guess how much of his prophecies Bruno is trying to sneak in, and for whom they are intended.

After all, nobody particularly wants an unhappy ending. At least for themselves.

* * *

“You see, if everyone uses up a finite resource without proper management, the resource gets used up,” explains Agustín the amateur economist. “It could be literally anything—the air, the ocean, fertile land—but it needs checking up on and it needs some kind of regulation. You can’t use too much of it. Otherwise everyone starts getting less, maybe someone gets nothing at all, and then if someone takes too much the whole ‘commons’ just collapses.”

“Hmmmm,” says Señora Alma thoughtfully.

“Please pass the corn?” emphasizes Pepa.

* * *

“Plants die sometimes, mija,” soothes Mamá, as baby Isabela sniffles into her dress. “It’s not the end of the world.”

* * *

“So Luz is in love with Emilio, who favours Catalina, who can’t get married because her twin brother Carlos forbade her from doing so until he got married, only his fiancée ran away with a llama-herder—”

“Um, Dolores?” asks Mariano, raising a hand. “Just how does this relate to Manolo’s novia actually being his aunt who has amnesia?”

“We’re getting there, cariño. Now—”

“I can’t believe she actually remembered the plots!” squeals Tío Bruno to himself.

“I still can’t believe you trashed Dante’s character arc to make room for Joaquin!”

“Pepa, it’s been thirty-seven years—”

* * *

“—so if you all eat too much without making sure there’s time for it to grow back, you’re all going to be left with no grass,” finishes Luisa.

The donkeys stare at her. Then they look meaningfully at Antonio.

“I think they liked it!” he chirps. “I mean, Diana doesn’t think it’s possible—I…think? Something about ‘Self-matriculating dynamic resource infrastructure compartmentalization’. Whatever that means. But they think it’s a good argument for a first try.”

Luisa beams. “And how about you, cuz? What’s your side of things?”

Antonio shrugs. “I guess it makes sense. But it’s gonna be tough to explain to the fruit bats. They think it all grows on trees only for them.”

“Uh…doesn’t it?” asks Cecilio the mailman, scratching his head. “You know, grow on trees.”

“Not coconuts! They come from the sea, like fish!”

Cecilio and Luisa share a glance.

“I’m gonna tell him.”

“Don’t you dare.”

(Childhood innocence is a precious thing, and to be mourned terribly when lost.)

* * *

“Tell anyone about it and you’re very definitely dead.”

“It’s not such a big deal. So you’re sneaking Tía Pepa’s books by Candelario Obeso and reading them in the dark. So what?”

“It’s a reputation thing.”

“Camilo, it’s just poetry. It’s not going to eat you. Mariano does poetry and nobody gives him a hard time.”

“Actually this is The Hunchback of Notre Dame. Obeso’s translation is still considered the best.”

“…huh. Any good?”

“I know every single inch of a church on the other side of the world and I still have no idea what’s going on.”

“…ah.”

* * *

Mirabel, for one, is utterly perplexed by the singing goats.

* * *

The adults try not to trouble Antonio with things.

He does appreciate it, for what it’s worth. He knows it’s not the easiest, being a Madrigal, and that they’ve all had to be strong—what they thought of as strong—for ten times as long as he’s been alive. But there are little cracks in the walls they put up, and through them comes a certain kind of dark thought that honestly he wishes he never knew about.

He knows Abuela still cries for Abuelo at night. He knows Tía Julieta is worried sick about not being able to make as much food as she used to, and what that does to everyone. He knows Mami sometimes gets in a horrible funk, and it’s all Papi can do to keep her upright. He knows Tío Bruno still flinches in full daylight, or whenever someone outside the family calls his name. He knows about Dolores trying to deal with the hurt done by everyone in the village to one another, Isabela choking on the roses she’s had to make, Luisa breaking down when she wasn’t strong enough, Camilo fearing his powers make him into a monster, Mirabel being terrified that her lack of powers—at least the lack of powers she thought she had—could hurt him, hurt the family.

What strikes Antonio is that none of these things are short-term. There was something that started it off, sure, but the real sadness came in when his family, each in their own way, realized that this was their life now. In a way, a part of them gave up searching for something better. That’s the worst of it, really—if any of Antonio’s animal friends did that, he’d be worried sick that they just would give up and…and die. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be, but it had to be this way, so they’d just have to deal with it.

With the Animals, the stories are surprisingly similar. (Parce still gets nightmare about pelts.) But they have hope in him, their human friend who can understand them and, they say, make the room so much brighter. Just like he’s always wanted to do.

When his greediness caused Casita to fall down, he thought his animal friends thought him to be as good as dead.

But the thing about plays like that is that there’s always a chorus. And Mirabel’s chorus—at least that’s what Camilo tells him—is the thing that got them back their house.

(The absolute worst of it is, if he’d just been a little older, maybe he wouldn’t have collapsed Casita in the first place.)

#fanfic #encanto #encanto 2021 #encantubre #encantober #alma madrigal #julieta madrigal #pepa madrigal #bruno madrigal #100 years of solitude #felix madrigal #agustin madrigal #tragedy of the commons #isabela madrigal #dolores madrigal #dolores x mariano #mariano guzman #luisa madrigal #luisa x oc #camilo madrigal #candelario obeso #the hunchback of notre dame #mirabel madrigal #antonio madrigal #one shot collection

[tomorrowusa]

NO great outcome was possible in the debt limit negotiations with Republicans. But Biden ended up with one which was far less bad than many people had feared.

Even though this crisis was provoked by House Republicans, many voters would have blamed Biden if the US had defaulted. As it turned out, Biden ended up with just a little dust on his jacket while McCarthy ends up with a self-made shit sandwich. 💩

Dan Pfeiffer was an aide to President Obama and has witnessed GOP blackmail close up. He writes...

Let’s be clear, this is shitty public policy foisted on the nation by a radical Republican House willing to blow up the economy and cause millions of jobs to vanish. Efforts to deal with deficits that do not include asking the wealthy and corporations to pay what they owe are cruel and wholly unserious. The tightening of access to aid for the most vulnerable Americans serves no purpose other than performative cruelty to appease the MAGA base.

But this could have been way worse in so many ways. The devil is very much in the details, but it seems like President Biden and his team outplayed McCarthy.

Republicans like to portray Joe Biden as doddering and totally out of it; never mind that Trump is only slightly younger and shows obvious signs of hysteria. But even if you don't grade Biden on a curve, he still comes out ahead of the GOP.

The far right MAGA fanatics absolutely hate the deal.

Jordan Weissmann at Semafor writes...

Afterwards, a quick consensus formed among much of the right and left: Republicans got blanked.

The agreement would temporarily freeze a portion of non-defense spending, while temporarily tightening the food stamp program’s work requireme​​nts for childless adults, and enacting modest changes to Temporary Assistance for Needy Families.

The early details prompted furious reactions from members of the hard-right House Freedom Caucus, who’d hoped to extract vastly more sweeping budget cuts and changes to the federal safety net in return for hiking the borrowing limit.

[ ... ]

As Josh Marshall of Talking Points Memo put it, it’s a bit like they walked into a Denny’s with a gun, demanded all the money in the cash register, and left with a breakfast instead. Extraordinary threats at the start, an ordinary transaction at the finish.

While this was not a great deal for anybody, Speaker McCarthy will likely suffer the most because of it.

Timothy Noah at The New Republic writes...

When this debt ceiling mess is concluded, Biden will stay president at least until January 20, 2025. McCarthy, I predict, will be gone by Christmas, and possibly before Labor Day. Should he somehow hang on to his speakership, he’ll be so diminished that you’ll barely notice he’s still there. He won’t be able to get anything done. So either way, McCarthy is toast.

McCarthy will probably have to rely on Democratic votes for the debt deal to pass. That will infuriate the far right even more.

Let's remember that one of McCarthy's concessions to the far right during the marathon election for Speaker in January was to make it possible for any member to introduce a motion to "vacate the chair". So any GOP members dissatisfied with the debt ceiling agreement could theoretically topple McCarthy – if Democrats decided to go along.

So while Republicans make a public spectacle of themselves, Dems can stock up on popcorn and collect crazy soundbites from Republicans who are more interested in nihilism than in governance.

#debt ceiling agreement #joe biden #kevin mccarthy #mccarthy is toast #us house of representatives #republican blackmail #house freedom caucus #republicans #biden outmaneuvers the gop #dan pfeiffer #jordan weissmann #josh marshall #timothy noah #election 2024

[bestworstcase]

That's some compelling meta WRT choice and 'hey, wait, does Cinder *really* need or want the arm gone (again)?' I'll admit to swallowing the 'it's eating her like Grimm mold and has to be Dealt With sometime' premise for a while, but even if Cinder does (try to) break with Salem that'll be some time coming yet. As for a big cup of Optic De-Grimmer solving anything about Salem herself...Summer Rose probably tried just that and got nowhere 'cause Salem's had *eons* to think about All This.

hdkfbd on the subject of summer rose my favorite theory on what went down between her and salem during that initial confrontation is basically: summer hit her with the silver glare, and salem—who may or may not have ever personally been glared before but is of course intimately and painfully familiar with what GOL’s magic feels like on account of it being what makes her immortal—promptly went “ohhh that’s not *his* power, i… need to reconsider some things.” and summer was like. what.

because, yanno, if salem made the same assumption that maria did, killing SEWs was most likely motivated by a desire to eradicate or at least diminish GOL’s influence in the world… and if, upon experiencing it herself, she realized that that assumption was incorrect, the obvious response is to put a moratorium on hunting them down at least until she figured out where that power actually originated from and, well, here’s a VERY CONVENIENT silver-eyed huntress who ozpin VERY CONVENIENTLY broke to the point of taking off on rogue suicide missions and oh you have children? i’m so very sorry would you like to join me so we can stop ozpin from doing to your girls what he’s done to you?

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

i have several theories on the grimm arm and why it’s growing; the main three i keep toggling between are:

1. “it can sense your trepidation; you must make it dread you” = the more afraid cinder feels of the grimm arm (and perhaps salem by extension), the less control she has over it, because after all it *is* a grimm, and the grimm feed on fear. hence why it starts to grow only after cinder disgraces herself and spends months with this worry in the back of her mind that she’s not going to be able to earn back her spot in the inner circle. if that’s the case, then cinder being on this trajectory of losing fear / getting bolder and more defiant is the best possible thing she could do for herself, because refusing to be cowed might measurably diminish the degree of control salem has over the arm and thus of her. (the symbolic appeal of this interpretation is…obvious gjdndjsk)

2. the growth and visual blending of grimm and human flesh coincides with cinder’s growing acclimatization to the grimm arm after the battle of haven. v4-5 establishes that cinder is having some trouble with the arm (apparently multiple sessions with salem trying to get it to take, the tremendous and exhausting effort of using it during training sessions, the habit she has of just letting it dangle stiffly at her side), and after her sleeve is ripped off at haven we see that the graft site is still very clean. after this point, cinder becomes gradually more at ease with the arm, hiding it less with every outfit change/adjustment, and her range of motion with it likewise becomes steadily more natural. by the time we see the growth up to her shoulder, the way cinder uses her grimm arm is indistinguishable from how she uses her human arm. thus: its growth might be a direct result of this physical and emotional integration; as cinder gets comfortable with it and masters it, it becomes more genuinely a part of her. (possibly this would explain why cinder seems so unconcerned, if she’s experiencing the growth as the arm feeling more and more natural, more like it *belongs* to her.)

3. …both…?

#i WOULD like cinder to bring it up at some point #if for no other reason than to see what salem says #part of me is like. salem might not KNOW EITHER #it’s not like she’s been going around grafting grimm bits onto people willy nilly #she’s *experimenting* #and i just think it would be funny if cinder went hey why did this arm you gave me crawl up to my shoulder #and salem was like you know i don’t really know GFHDVSJX

[farceargon]

The Harbinger’s Slaughter

Yeah I love my Namekian Oc (Harper :]), so what! Here’s a 1-shot I wrote for him a while ago that I’ve actually decided to share. Hiiiii followers! Set from the perspective of a Namekian warrior, part of a hunting party, who wrote this like a diary entry.

(Warning: There’s violence, hence the name. Quite brutal murder. Read at your own risk if you don’t like the gritty.)

~ It was like a whirlwind of fire, of stones and flame... That unlike any of us had ever seen before. Such a rage and anguish... I feel a shiver run down my back when I remember seeing those eyes glaring into my very being. Just a simple mission. Find the omen, the Harbinger, destroy him. For years we had suffered from his ill will, stagnant water and dying plant-life. Finally after all of the failed former attempts this would be it, the strongest of our village left to find it and remove the source for good. All that we found was death. The Harbinger was standing before us, on a cliff face raised up so that he could look down upon what would be our feeble hunting party. We thought we stood a chance, the first of us launched the attack. They were supposed to be fast, some of the quickest and able to land impressive amounts of blows with little to no difficulty whatsoever... But as they drew closer it was then that we realized something was off. After all this time, years and years and years... He had grown stronger than we could have ever imagined. Just like that the attack stopped, the four who'd launched towards him froze in place as if time itself had cut off. I knew it hadn't, I could feel my heartbeat. Somehow, in some terrible way, the Harbinger had taken hold of my people's very bodies and held them in the open. Raising hands on either side of him, he removed four of the orbs from around his neck and let them hover over his hands. It was then that we discovered it was nothing but simple telekinesis and that those... Those were dragonballs. We were all capable of telekinesis to some degree, Namekians are adept at manipulating objects in this way if we train hard enough. However, none of us had ever seen it as strong as this. Before our very eyes he raised his weapons up, then threw his arms down. We all listened, screamed, recoiled, as the sickened, purple dragonballs slammed into our family’s heads with such force that their skulls caved in with little effort at all... As if removing a life were as simple as that, barely batting an eye. - From there I don't remember much. My friends, my family, were slaughtered. We fought as best we could but we were no match for the enemy's relentless, merciless ferocity. The Harbinger was truly his namesake, nothing but death followed in his wake across the battlefield. It didn't matter how many of us there were, within minutes half of the forces were diminished, then another third... Until it was nothing but me and a brother. I am, unfortunately, the only survivor. Staring me dead in the eyes, with those horrible demonic ones of his own. Gripping the last of my family around the neck with enough strength that his sharpened claws drew blood. The Harbinger felt like he should’ve been smirking as he suddenly tore his hand away, ripping his claws across green skin. A scream, a rush of red. Just like that it was over. Surely, I thought, I would be next. But as if to mock me, to make his point, the black Namekian turned around and let the body fall lifeless to the ground. A single huff, as his shoulders jerked in his pent up loathing, a jet of pure red flame was forced from his nose, like a strange, alien bull with flamethrowers for breath. "He begged for mercy, did you hear?" He said to me in a voice deeper than anything I’d ever heard, his pitch like the dying embers scattered across the battlefield. There was an even calmness to his voice that felt like it should have been comforting, but at the back of his throat he almost seemed to growl like the very monster the elders made him out to be. He sounded… Amused. Amused by the idea that he’d been begged to spare a life. "That you would beg for mercy after casting me out and hunting me down like a rabid beast..." The Harbinger seemed to resist scoffing. "W-We are taught that we can only be better than the people that surround us-" I stammered, a pathetic attempt at snapping sense into this monstrosity, but I was cut off. "Then it's a good thing that I am no better than the rest of you.” I said nothing. The Namekian ahead of me waited in silence for a response. When nothing left my mouth he snorted, entertained, then despite all odds… Turned and left. I was in shock, expectedly traumatized, surrounded by the bodies of my formerly living family. I returned home, alone. The village mourned for weeks. Now, I can recall nothing but the horror from that very moment. The pain of losing my family… Of hearing their cries echoing in my ears… Yet despite it all... I swore, somewhere behind those demonic, crimson eyes of the Harbinger I saw a loss greater than my own. ~ CONGRATS IF YOU MADE IT THIS FAR! I hope that it was worth the read at least... Can you tell I love him?

#eldritch squeaking #leo's blorbo box #dragon ball #dragon ball oc #namekian #namekian oc #dragon ball z #because thats the time it happened :] #i love him very much. hes spooky. scary man. he dont care who you are he'll murder you the same as everyone else #his brutality is a fun part of his character #ALSO YES. I DO INDEED LOVE TO WRITE LIKE SOME KINDA MEDIEVAL POET #SHHHHHH #SOBS

[thequietmanno1]

Thelreads, MHA 271, Replies Part 2

1) “Ah, I see, since Dabi overheats like his papa after throwing a fire tornado down a narrow street towards a highly-mobile flying villain, Hawks knows that the best time to escape is right after he attacks, because that means that he’ll need time to cooldown and send another move.

They have a short window, they`ll have to take it the first chance they get.”- Unfortunately, Dabi is also smart enough to fake how much gas he’s got in the tank for a final blow. Despite their efforts, it was blind luck that saved them in the end, because Dabi is both powerful and smart enough in how he uses this power to cause maximum damage for the heroes. 2) “OH MY GOOD THE POOR SHADOW

TOKOYAMI YOU MONSTER, YOU`RE HURTING THE POOR SHADOW DEMON”-Well, he needs an angle of leverage to try and get out of Dabi’s so-far linear fire blasts, so tarzan-swinging to the floor below seems to be the safe bet. Shame Dabi hid his full cards until he was in prime positon to play a devastating hand to utterly corner them. 3) “Also, that`s a nice understatement there, a bump, you fucking fell on top of him. Not that I blame you for that, but c'mon Tokoyami, at least admit to it”- He’s also still got a badly-burnt foot, which didn’t help his landing attempts much. 4) “AH FOR FUCK`S SAKE

FUCK FUCK- FAT, ARE YOU THERE YET? WE KINDA NEED A FLESH SHIELD RIGHT NOW, YOU KNOW? PRETTY PLEASE?”- If that heat was enough to crisp his skin, even with the weak fire-resistance he’s got, then it wouldn’t have mattered, Dabi’s flames would have melted through Fat, Tokoyami, and the building behind them. He really wanted them dead. 5) “OH IT WASN`T A HERO IT WAS ACTUALLY GETTEN-“- Given the series’ themes of unity and teamwork, it’s karmically appropriate that what cost Dabi the perfect victory he was set up to achieve was his own refusal to cooperate with others, resulting in his teammate unleashing a massive attack to try and turn the situation around for his ‘side’ and allowing his cornered targets to flee – and Dabi doesn’t even really seem to care or appreciate the lesson inherent to that. He is many things, but he is not a teamplayer. 6) “At this point it`s being more a battle of attrition, and you`re actually playing into their hands regardless. They have the advantage, the high ground, they can just keep slowly pushing you all back until you succumb. There`s no escape from them if you keep a single and focused front. Diminishing their numeric advantage is not gonna work when they have a lot of crowd control to push back, this is not the goddamn 300.”- True but, Genten is not a large-scale leader like Re-Destro, capable of overseeing a massive organisation. With his leader locked down in the depths, he’s doing the best he can to make sure things aren’t a completely hopeless fight for them, to try and avoid their side getting utterly crushed before they even get started. It might not be the most strategic choice, but, unlike Dabi he is at least trying to keep his allies alive and in the fight. 7) “No Tokoyami, his hands are dirty, that much there is no denying. He did what he had to, there was no other option there unfortunately.

It was right thing to do, but unfortunately that doesn`t mean that it was the good thing to do. He killed to stop more deaths, but that doesn`t mean he won`t regret this forever.”- War is not a place for those with moral standards. It’s a good thing Tokoyami knows hawks enough to know he wouldn’t have done that without a reason, but it still doesn’t change the fact he took a life- and the life of a man who really deserved a second change, but was denied that by the machinations of fate and his manipulative teammate. At the very least, Hawks will regret Twice’s passing far more than Dabi, which is just a cruel irony all told. 8) “Oh that doesn`t sound good to them, what happened? The heroes kept those people isolated, have them opened an entrance to neutralize them with some quirk like midnight`s one?”- Well, it’s technically not really great for anybody, given how single-minded machia’s proven in trying to follow his master’s orders… 9) “FUCKFUCKFUCK

OH GOD NO

HE KNOWS SHIGARAKI IS UP

AND I THINK HE`S ABOUT TO GO AFTER HIM

JESUS FUCK NO”- So, one battlefields got an unstoppable opponent lurking in the depths, and I think the other one is starting to stir over here as well…. 10) “Still, it seems like Dabi`s words have shaken him a bit. Tokoyami was firm on that ideal of the noble, pious hero, and above that, he believed Hawks, the hero he admired the most and who trained him, to be such an example, but now he found out that wasn`t true. Hawks did kill Twice, we can argue that wasn`t something a hero should do, but in the end he didn`t had a choice, it was that or everyone would die. It was horrible, we wish that didn`t happened, but it did, and there`s no going back.

His world certainly got rocked with that revelation. I do believe he will bounce back, but by god, this broken pedestal won`t be fixed so easily. And that`s not even getting on how Hawk`s back got obliterated, and he won`t be able to grow any more feathers.”- It wasn’t enough for Dabi to destroy Hawks mentally in the battle, he even seemed to purposely burn his back specifically to destroy the source of his feathers before trying to kill him, almost as if he wanted to thoroughly eradicate all chances of Hawks the hero ever recovering from this even if he survived. More than anything, Dabi’s treatment of Hawks and Twice shows that he’s got a mean sadistic streak in him lurking underneath his cold exterior, and now he’s finally heating up enough to let it show… @thelreads

#bnha #thelreads #chapter replies #my hero academia #mha 271