#(though in my defence i don't think she shows up in the main show)

[killergee]

I hope you are familiar with How to train your dragon (race to the edge etc.).

I love that show! I also love Astrid Hofferson! She's amazing!! Ahem!

A Hoshina Soshiro x Astrid Hofferson reader would be so cool and interesting!! Plus a temper mental partner and a calm partner is so interesting for Hoshina Soshiro!!

Reader is a captain a strong one too her custom weapon is a battle axe viking style. Very aggressive in the battlefield and very strict.

But with Hoshina Soshiro she's as gentle as a flower.

IM SO SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG! School has been absolutely kicking my ass but I finally had time to work on this. Hehe, tyy for the request and I hope you enjoy :-)

Summary: After a long and hard battle, your division finds out that the Third Division Vice Captain is the only one who can tame their scary Captain.

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

"What a waste of a beautiful night," you drawled out as you looked up at the night sky. Taking a deep breath, you tried to ignore the wails of kaijus, the blaring of gunfire, and the ache in your body as you got up from the rubble around you.

While the smaller kaijus were easy to eliminate, the main problem was the daikaiju that now stood in front of you.

Created by the dead bodies of kaijus morphing together, your soldiers were being compromised one by one. What it lacked for in size, it made up for it in speed and intelligence. Before your soldiers could even aim, their guns were being flung across the field, their chest carved open by its sharp claws.

You watched as it slowly stood to its full height. If you had to guess, it appeared to be weary of you. Choosing to analyze you from afar, it didn't indicate any signs of wanting to approach you.

Though that didn't stop it from flinging you like a ragdoll less than a second ago, you wanted to scoff. You pressed your hand to your com and ordered your soldiers to fall back. "Create a 700 meter parameter around the target. Do not engage unless ordered."

Brandishing your battle axe at the daikaiju, you prepared to engage in battle. "When I say fire, fire everything you've got at that bastard. Do not hesitate and do not back down." You instructed, never taking your eyes off the target. "I'll create an opening."

The nervous voice of your Vice-Captain cracked through the coms. "Captain, please, let's retreat and wait until the third division arrives for support. Don't sacrifice yourself for us."

"Sacrifice? Who do you think you're talking to?" You laughed, your mouth curling into a dangerous smirk. "This one's all mine. I'm going for the win!"

You rushed in, matching its speed and ferocity. Its claws met your axe at every swipe and jab. Unable to keep up with the fight, you looked like a blur to your soldiers. The only way they knew where you were was by the sound that reverberated from your axe hitting the tough skin of the kaiju.

Whenever there was a moment the kaiju faltered, bullets would rain down on it. Before it could fully recover and track the source of the gunfires, you'd press it once more. The constant attacks slowly chipped away its armour-like skin and you were ready to land the final blow the moment it got distracted.

This sort of attack was only made possible because of the coordination you instilled into your soldiers. Your base was known for being the most disciplined, organized, and efficient base in the country. The caliber needed to join your division was higher than all others, and you were infamously the most bold and strict captain in the entire defence force.

With your axe embedded in the kaiju's upper abdomen, you yelled out to your soldiers once more.

But instead of bullets, you were only met with the hesitant voice of your vice captain. "But, Captain, you're in the way-"

"NOW!" You growled.

"Yes, Captain!"

You couldn't dodge all the bullets, but neither could the kaiju trapped in its place. The chance of breaking its armour was too good to miss—even if it meant you were caught in the crossfire. Weakened and disoriented, it couldn't stop your next swing that sliced it in half. It's core, now unguarded, stood no chance to your mighty axe.

With blood rushing to your head, you desperately took deep and heavy breaths. The cold air that stung your skin contrasted the searing heat of your suit, but all you could feel was the familiar satistifaction of victory settle into your bones. You didn't need to turn your head to know the kaiju laid dead below you. No, the cheers of your soldiers told you as much.

As they rushed to crowd around you, their joy was short-lived as your sharp glare stopped them in their tracks. Shivers crept up their spines, and they straightened their backs, saluting their terrifying Captain.

"Defying orders, hesitating, reacting slow to commands, where do I even begin," you began gruffly, disappointment—and what they think is irritation—dripping from your voice.

Sighing, you were about to continue until a voice interrupted you.

"Hey there, gorgeous, how 'bout you come let me check your wounds first before you go and reprimand your soldiers."

"Soshiro."

Huh? What was that soft sound? Did that come from the Captain? There's no way the Captain can sound that soft. Surely, they were just exhausted from the battle and were hallucinating.

"Come now," the Vice Captain of the third division said in a coaxing manner, "don't make me carry you."

A small chuckle left your mouth, and now their jaws were definitely on the floor. They don't think they've ever even seen you smile, let alone chuckle so fondly.

"Alright... I'll save the lecture for tomorrow." You say with the shake of your head, giving him a tired smile. A smile that dissappeared the moment you turned to address them. "However, know that next time, I will not tolerate any hesitation."

"Yes, Captain!" They saluted, feeling a bit relieved but also unnerved at how nice you were being.

"What your beloved captain meant to say was to have a lil' more faith in her, will ya? Trust in her orders and decisions." Hoshina said with a laugh as he placed your arm over his shoulder and helped you walk towards the medics.

Their eyes were definitely bulging out too, more so that you were being so docile.

You were the very definition of strong. The way you fought, the way you held yourself, hell, even the way walked. They revered you but also couldn't help but be scared of you.

Snapping out of their shock, they tried to turn to their vice captain for answers, but he only looked away, feigning ignorance.

They just had to get to the bottom of this. Even if it meant they'll be spending the rest of their lives running laps.

Sneaking towards the medics, they nearly toppled over each other at the scene before them.

Despite how your wounds must sting, you looked like puddy in his hands while he was cleaning them. Seated infront of him, you were leaning your face into his palm that cupped your cheek, your hand over his.

The hands that were once gripping your axe so strongly were now so softly reaching up to caress the face of the third division vice captain.

"Soshiro," Your voice was even softer,  "I'm alright, please don't look at me like that."

They could see his shoulders shake, even from this distance. "You scared me out there," he replied, dropping the swabs and placing his hands on either side of you.

"I'm sorry, dear," you whispered, softly brushing away the hair that covered his eyes. "You know I'll always fight my hardest to come back to you." Bringing his head to rest on your shoulder, you softly ran your fingers through his hair.

"You could've waited a couple of minutes for me, you know?" He said in an almost teasing manner, his shoulders finally slumping, his arms wrapping around you securely.

You laughed as you could feel his pout on your shoulder. "But where's the fun in that?"

"Awww, they're so cuteeee. Wait, guys- stop pushing, AHH-"

...

"Oh no."

Piled on top of each other and out in the open, they all winced in anticipation of what their captain would do to them. At the sound of laughter, they snapped their heads up to see the Vice Captain shaking and their Captain blushing immensely.

"You're all dead-" you flushed as you quickly tried to detangle yourself from Hoshina.

Feeling not even a smidge embarrassed, Hoshina only teased you, unbothered by your attempts to create distance. "Awwww, c'mon, darling. They're just having a bit of fun."

He turned to face the rag tag bunch with a smile. "Don't worry, I'll make sure the big scary Captain doesn't do anything to ya. So go get yourselves patched up and head home, yeah?"

Despite his reassuring words, they only looked towards their Captain for orders.  Staring at you with pleading eyes, you let out a tired sigh and nod your head.

Smiling wide, they were so close to crying tears of joy. Oh, for their Captain to be like this forever....

Looking at each other, they knew what they had to do.

"Vice Captain Hoshina please transfer to our division!"

[liexki]

𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖 + 𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐒 : 𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐎𝐓

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: When the first division of TOMAN, Keisuke Baji, passes away, the Commander, Manjiro Sano, take his younger sister, Y/N Baji, in and soon forms a gang in their mid 20s. Now being the leaders of the criminal organization BONTEN and entering the gang scene with a federal bounty on her head, what if love with her No. 2 and a bit of the past resurfaces?? What if there was a little sorrow and betrayal?? Some gang shit in the mix too!?

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: various substances (vapes, weeds, cigarettes, pills, ect.), curse words, mentions of sex work if you squint

“Sanzu, Y/N, respectfully, please calm down on the amount of drugs.” Kakucho said, sitting across from Sanzu. Stubbly looking over to Mikey at the right of him — strangely attending the meeting at the head of the table — asking for approval to question such big figures in the way he did.

TO KEEP READING, YOU UNDERSTAND THE CONTENT WARNING MENTIONED ON THE TOP OF THE SCREEN ARE PRESENT IN THIS POST AND FUTURE EPISODES.

Y/N sent a sharp glare towards despite being on the other head, about a metre away from the number 3. Sanzu gave a cheeky smile that people would relate to the Cheshire cat. His pearly whites showed while Y/N rolled her eyes at the boy’s antics.

“I’ll only stop if I bring Mikey and the princess an issue. I do think Y/N should stop. She’ll age really badly!” He responded to Kakucho while a bit of fake sympathy laced his voice.

“I’ve bought enough for Y/n to not age badly. Great retinols and I’ve even showed her some botox places that were rated well. She gave me the same little pretty glare she’s giving you now.” Ran pitched into the conversation.

“Shut the fuck up Ran no one cares about you and your issues about being an old hag.” Sanzu bites the 31 year old to his side, the banter flowing freely among the trio.

“For once I believe I have to agree with the dunce.” Rindou reluctantly admitted.

“I think we should get back to the main problem right now.” Kokonoi started, “We need to start making connections with different gangs at the moment and we also need to work on our financial issue which is being affected with the substance use from all of you.”

“I don’t do drugs!” Mucho stated in defence of his use.

“You dumbfuck! Substances aren’t just drugs. I’m saying those shitty cigarettes you smoke, the vapes that teens these days use, to edibles or drugs that Y/N and Sanzu are using. They’re all substances and FUCK WE SPEND TO MUCH ON THAT SHIT!” Kokonoi explained with frustration.

“So, all you want is for me to stop using drugs? Well then, I’m out of this then. Mikey, Kakucho, Kokonoi, and Takeomi. Make an event sending regards and invite the top 15 gangs to an event at one of the Haitani's clubs. Ran and Rindou, you guys can decide a club you’re fine with being used.” Y/n ordered.

With a click-clack of her MIU MIU heels, Y/N pushed her chair back and walked out of the room. The sound of her footsteps echoed through the room as Mikey watched her leave. As a small grin decorated his face, entertained by the events. A quiet chuckle left Sanzu’s mouth with the same idea.

✈︎ ˖°ʚ 🐈‍ ɞ·˚ ✩

"You guys know the BONTEN event, right??" Kimiko sat with her legs crossed on top of a table.

"Yeah. One of my workers told me when their number 2 was high." Shu replied taking another hit of his blunt.

"OMG DON'T TELL ME YOU GOT US AN INVITE? KIMI!" Aria squealed with excitement while shaking Kimiko's shoulders rapidly.

"Yes, yes, yes. I was able to get myself on the list and asked the man if I could bring you. I also said that I could provide smokes and shit so Shu, you need to be there with something for about 150 people." Y/n rambled. "Aria, keep on the low though. You're not a present figure."

"Yes ma'am!!" Aria chorused.

Kimiko shot her an annoyed look but secretly felt a sense of happiness.

"What's the deal. Why would they hold an event?" Shu interrogated.

Kimiko didn't know but she had one thing on her mind. Build connections with the gang. The others in the room had a similar idea as well but they'd never admit that. As the leader, she needed to step up.

"BONTEN is uptight so I doubt they'd let anyone know but I'm thinking it's about business."

She glanced over to Shu and he cracked a grin to her gaze.

"Let's take this opportunity to talk to them privately and introduce them to us. Aria, you step down on this one. Me and Shu will do the talking, don't expect this to be free time though. Make sure you study the other people at the event."

Aria nods. Shu focuses.

'Y/N should be wary of who she messes with.' Kimiko thought.

✈︎ ˖°ʚ 🐈‍ ɞ·˚ ✩

“Hey, Kakucho. Who told that one bitch about our event?” Mochizuki asked him at the VIP section of the bar as they just finished the final few touches of the event.

Kakucho and Kokonoi got confused about what he was talking about. The 2 walked over to try and look at the phone he was holding and Y/N just took a glance from her side across the room.

“I told them.” Y/N said.

“Wasn’t it supposed to be underground?” Kakucho asked, “It kinda makes us look desperate…you know?”

Mochizuki looked at the phone in confusion as everyone was on the same page of this being laid-back and secretly trying to find someone to ally with. Nothing too public. That was indeed not the case though and Y/N had other plans that differed with the group.

“It’s just for a bit of excitement. We haven’t said shit or made any moves in a while. Keeps the people thinking and people might less pussy and actually talk to us.” Y/N explained.

The time had now been 10:45 and the rest of the members were doing their own thing while Mikey looked at you with his cold eyes. He was curious about the way you stood silent and looked at the ground instead of scrolling on your phone as usual.

The B2 tweet really got the people going insane and some envied the groups and those who had come out saying they were going. Your ego was as big as a pool but your cold demeanour covered it up. He thought you’d look at them as a laugh.

“Y/N. Let’s talk outside.” Mikey asked.

✈︎ ˖°ʚ 🐈‍ ɞ·˚ ✩

“LET’S GET THIS PARTY STARTEDDDD!!!!” Sanzu barged in holding a bottle of beer in front of the crowd of gang members who had arrived.

The crowd went insane after seeing the bubblegum crackhead’s words. Rindou was playing DJ that night and the EDM was echoing throughout the speakers set around the building. Girls were sitting on the speakers still looking pretty to attract the gangs and get them to feel themselves.

Mikey watched everyone from the VIP room. The security cameras had 8k quality. The average company could only wish to own the amount of cameras they have. He thought back to the conversation he had with Y/N. Something she had known.

“You have some plan. Something smartass type shit.” Mikey confronted her softly so she wouldn’t feel as if he was enraged.

“Mhm. Wanna know or something?” Y/n questioned back.

Now Mikey was faced with a sense of curiosity. He had trusted Y/N because it was mutual. She’d put her life for him and he’d do the same but they knew they’d never be in that situation. Y/N was smarts enough to cover for both of their hellish lives. Despite this, in that moment that was something that he wanted to question her on.

What Mikey didn’t realise is that Y/N knew his every expression. Even his pitch black eyes that held no emotions was something that didn’t stop her from figuring out how he really felt. His eyes staring into the ground was enough to tell her he was pondering about asking.

“I’m thinking of making small changes so we can catch these big gangs hitting their most vulnerable moments. More girls around to see how they respect women, seeing how they react under the influence of alcohol. It’s small things that set it up.” Y/n clarified.

What she said really had made a difference in how the delinquents around the club and bar were acting. Some were straight hooligans and some had acted like how old friends of his probably would’ve if they still were here.

As Mikey was attentively watching the cameras he soon realised all the members had left the room, he decided to walk out himself and become a little more social.

✈︎ ˖°ʚ 🐈‍ ɞ·˚ ✩

“I guess we have a lot more in common than I thought. Shu Yamaha, correct?” Kokonoi clarified to the man in front of him.

‘Insanely famous for exporting drugs across Hiroshima to Akita. We could use that. His brother’s motor company could be useful but I doubt he still talks to them when he’s doing shit like this.’ Kokonoi thought

“Yes Mr. Kokonoi. I’m glad I was able to talk business with someone in this industry. No one seems to think about the future in our work. All they do is think about throwing fists and updating their body count just to go home and hook up with someone they barely know!” Shu chats to the executive.

“Agreed. You can never know about what comes next but it’s still vital to stick to the present. Time is of the essence, am I right? Most of the people tonight are on wanted lists. Especially BONTEN. The moment this doesn’t work out we won’t be able to get proper jobs without people fearing our past.”

“Of course. I think I’ll be taking my leave.” Shu said

Shu walke away but before he could go too far, Kokonoi walked over behind him and tapped his shoulder.

“Do you mind if I got a business card?”

Here's the OPENING POST !!

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[vampiregokudera]

Peach time!

Young Justice is planning to go to a halloween party, so obviously they decide to do matching group outfits.

More specifically - they all dress up as various Princess Peach Showtime outfits. (I really want to draw the gang in the various outfits so consider this fic a kind of hyping up the drawing that's gonna follow sometime in the future :3)

This is how they got to that point.

***

Tim is hunkered down in one of the more quiet rooms of the new and improved Young Justice headquarters.

He has spent the last couple of hours on his computer, successfully going through and analysing a collection of particularly tricky case files. Making slow but steady progress.

Although his coffee has long since gone cold and he really should've turned the main light on by now, he finds the atmosphere rather peaceful. The only sounds are his own occasional taps on the laptop and the quiet buzzing of said device.

It's a form of bliss he doesn't get to experience often.

…

Which, of course, can only last so long.

He hears muffled voices and footsteps approach and straightens out from his previously assumed half-shrimp half-sliding-off-the-chair position and keeps his eyes on the door.

It's familiar voices - Kon's and Cassie's to be precise. And judging from their ever closer growing footsteps, Tim guesses that they're probably looking for him.

Despite the proximity, he can't seem to make out their conversation, which reminds him that he's wearing headphones.

Right… he had been meaning to put on another playlist after the first one ended.

He pulls the headphones down, just in time for Cassie to open the door to the room, letting hallway light stream in.

"Oh hey, you were right, he is here. Jeez, don't just sit in the dark, you weird little cryptid!"

She flips on the lights and immediately the room is bright as day. Tim bites back the urge to hiss at the assault on his eyes.

"Told you~"

Kon sing-songs smugly as both of them approach.

"And speaking of cryptids… Well, not really, but that's not important, Cassie and I have a proposition!"

Tim can feel anxiety rise. This does not sound good.

"Okay?" He says slowly… cautiously.

"Oh don't be like that, it's gonna be fun!"

Cassie tries encouragingly, but it only serves to increase the doubt.

Still. He should at least hear them out.

"I haven't said anything yet. But you two don't exactly hold the record for best ideas."

"I'll have you know!" Kon chimes in "we ran this by Bart and he's on board."

He proclaims proudly.

"Ah, so I'm the last line of defence huh? Alright let's hear it."

He slides his laptop to the side, showing they have his full attention.

Kon and Cassie exchange a nervous look, before they go to sit on either side of him.

"Okay, let's start with this. What's happening a month from today?"

Tim ponders for a bit.

It's September 28 today.

September 29th if midnight has passed already… he hasn't been keeping tabs on the time.

So a month from now would be October 28 or 29.

"National chocolate day?" 

The looks he receives from his friends tell him he's off by miles, but nothing else comes to mind.

"National cat day?"

He tries again.

"National what? Wait, those are a thing?" Kon seems to contemplate something for a second before shaking his head.

"Not the point. Fun to know though."

Cassie takes over for him.

"It's Halloween!"

Tim doesn't mention that technically that's a month and a few days from today.

"...go on?"

Cassie looks at him, incredulous.

"What? What's your point?" He's still confused.

"My point? My point is that it's Halloween, Tim! We should dress up and go party!"

"Which!" Kon supplies her. "Coincides with the fact that Teen Titans are throwing a party and Young Justice has been cordially invited."

He ends with a flourish.

They definitely practised this.

Tim thinks it over.

A party in that kind of company didn't sound that bad. It would be nice to just relax with his friends and gods knew they all could use a breather.

The last 'fun' thing the four of them did as a group was lay on a couch and watch Bart play that Princess Peach theatre game.

Not to mention it would be good for the team's morale…

Taking his silence as hesitation, Kon signals to Cassie and whisper yells.

"Pssst! Cassie! Say the magic words!"

At which Cassie grinns and leans closer to Tim, as if conspiring.

"Plus it would be good for the team morale~"

Tim can't hold back the grin that spreads across his face. He also can't let them know that's exactly what he was just thinking.

Just when did his teammates learn to be so cunning?

"Alright, alright. A dress up party might be fun."

He rolls his eyes as his friends cheer.

But they're not done yet.

"And because we're going as a team, Cassie and I thought."

They make eye contact with one another and Tim feels a shiver run through him.

"MATCHING GROUP OUTFITS!!!"

They exclaim together, with jazz hands for emphasis.

He should've known there would be a catch. Nothing's ever easy in this world.

"No. It's a pain and we will take forever to decide."

They grin wider, as if they had anticipated the argument.

"Oh but that's the good part! We've already picked a theme!"

More doubt settles in Tim's mind. This can in no way be good.

"You have?"

"Yup!" Cassie and Kon smile so bright it's like sunshine itself has graced his little dark corner.

"Do I want to know?"

"Not much of a choice, you already said yes!"

Those smiles are gonna be the death of him. It's a good thing Bart's not here with them, he'd melt like a popsicle on a beach otherwise.

"I only agreed to the party idea, not the-"

Kon doesn't even let him finish, putting a finger in front of his mouth, shushing him.

"Nope! Shush! Too late, Rob, we're doing Princess Peach showtime outfits and we're randomising the picks for everyone! We've already made a roster, we just need to assign every outfit."

He bats the hand away. 

Using his endearing Robin nickname for this is just straight up unfair.

Despite the absurdity, or maybe because of it, Tim finds himself laughing.

"Absolutely not, no way in hell! How long have you two been planning this?"

"Awwww come on, Tim, It'll be fun!"

Kon practically begs, sparkling blue puppy eyes on full display, head leaning on his shoulder for emphasis.

"Since Bart played it."  Cassie admits at the same time.

Tim pushes Kon off and crosses his arms.

"Give me one good reason why I would dress up as Princess Peach." 

Another moment of eye contact between his friends and something tells Tim, he's not winning this one.

"Because," Cassie begins taking his hands and unfolding them.

"We're getting everyone on board! Me, you, Kon, Bart, Anita, Greta," Tim's eyes widen in surprise. Despite himself he straightens up and leans closer to Cassie, excitement taking root in his stomach. "Cissie!!! We can even invite Ray if you want to!"

"Wait," Tim feels light headed "Cissie's ok with this???"

Instead of answering Cassie just nods energetically.

"I… I can't really say no to this now can I?"

"Nope!" His friends exclaim before hugging him.

Tim heaves a sigh but gives them light pats as his version of returning the hug.

"Okay, okay. But I have one condition."

They pull back and look at him curiously.

"We can only go if the world isn't on fire."

"Only if the world isn't on fire!" They chorus and give him a thumbs up.

"Now that this guy's on board," Cassie says as she gets up and Kon starts doing the same. "Let's go convince Bart!"

"Hey! I thought you said he already agreed!" Tim protests, turning to watch them run out the door.

"He said he'll only go if you also go!" Kon's voice echoes as the door swings shut again and Tim slumps back down in his seat.

He was played like a cheap kazoo.

But if that means he'll get to see all his young justice friends together again, he can't really find it in himself to complain.

Now, however, there is a new high priority task on his list.

Tim pulls his laptop close again and opens a brand new powerpoint presentation file. He dedicates the rest of the night putting together arguments on why Mermaid Peach should be banned from the dress up roster.

***

The dreaded day of the outfit draw arrives in the form of Tim laying on his bed in the Wayne manor as it relentlessly pours and thunders outside. 

Due to the large group of people involved it was decided that the assigning should be conducted as a remote group call. Tim had been indifferent to the suggestion, but was far more grateful now. If only because Redbird got to spare her tires and coating from the rain and mud.

Not that either of those would be able to damage the car anyways but Tim still prefered to keep her dry and safe.

Come to think of it, she was due for a change of tires soon. Gotham gangs had taken to getaway racing lately and chasing them down at max speeds was taking a toll on the poor car.

He's considering potential upgrades when people finally start joining the call.

To Tim's surprise, Cissie does indeed show up, along with Greta and Anita, and like any friend group who hasn't seen each other for a while, they spend the first hour and a half just chatting and catching up. 

Tim has to mute himself a couple of times throughout the call, when Bruce comes in to give him some files on Penguin's recent activity, when Jason barges in to take back the book he had 'borrowed' and when Damian climbs in through his window, drenched and obviously hiding a sopping wet cat in his coat, and treks rainwater all over his carpet.

But despite the few interruptions, the atmosphere stays relaxed.

It's all so chill and nice that Tim nearly forgets the purpose for the group call.

The outfit assignment.

"Okay, I think it's time we get to business." Cassie claps her hands together loudly, once the conversation has turned to what Bart should have for breakfast tomorrow.

"Oh! Right! Let me pull up the wheel."

Kon shares his screen, and on it is one of those custom spin the wheel websites with the various Princess Peach Showtime outfits written on the selections.

Thankfully, Tim sees no mention of mermaid Peach. Looks like the powerpoint presentation he sent his friends a few hours before the call had done its job.

"So how do we do this? Does anyone wanna go first? Or do we go by the excel order?"

"You made a spreadsheet for this?" Anita's voice chimes in through the group's laughter.

"It's convenient and recognised as a useful tool." Kon defends himself.

"I don't mind going first!" Greta, the brave soul, speaks up and Kon cheers.

"Great! Then let's see what you get! On-"

"Three!"

"Two!"

"One!"

The click of the mouse to send the wheel spinning is a bit anticlimactic after that hype up if Tim's honest, but Greta plays along anyway.

"Uuuu i hope it's a good one!"

The spinning slows down until finally…

"DASHING THIEF??? I WANTED THAT ONE!" A round of protests mixed in with congratulations resounds as Greta whoops in pure delight.

Tim won't lie to himself and say a part of him wasn't hoping he'd end up with the vigilante-like outfit that out of all of the options was the closest to his usual uniform.

But he also wasn't as bitter about it as some others in the call. Like Bart and Cissie.

"All right, I've written you down."

Kon cuts through the chatter.

"Who's next?"

Seeing that one of the best outfits was plucked up right away, most of their group volunteers.

Tim should probably join them or at the very least try and get one of the next rounds.

But Kon has the power of the wheel so he declares himself as the next candidate. Which, of course, is received with complaints.

"You can pick who goes when you have the excel spreadsheet and wheel of fate." He argues before sending the wheel spinning again.

"Oh shit no way!" He breathes when the dial slows down over Cowgirl Peach and Tim can hear him actually audibly whine when it ends up passing and pointing to

"Swordfighter?! I was so clooose!" He wails dramatically as the rest of the group reassures that Swordfighter Peach is still a solid pick.

But it's no secret that Kon had been hoping for Cowgirl Peach. He had mentioned wanting to dress up as her all the way back when Bart was playing the actual game.

"Hey, at least you get to wear pants." Tim says soothingly. And honestly? That's really all he wants for his own outfit.

Keeping pants would be lovely.

"We can always trade." Cissie offers, which is enough to end Kon's little pity party.

"Yea, no way. Who's up next?"

Tim really should start volunteering now. He really should.

"Me! I was the other moderator for this. I should go next!" 

It's Cassie.

"Alright, count your lucky stars, because it's time! To! Spin!!!"

It looks like Cassie agrees with Tim's philosophy because as the wheel is spinning, everyone can hear her chant

"Please let me have pants, please let me have pants!" Like a prayer.

Which, knowing the origins of her power, might just get answered.

But the wheel is commanded by code and not gods and therefore lands on

"Fuck!"

Figureskater Peach.

Cassie disconnects from the call.

...

Only to re-connect three seconds later.

"Get that confetti out of my face, I don't wanna see it!"

Everyone laughs and Kon removes the option, jotting it down in his spreadsheet no doubt.

"Maybe someone will be up for switching with you?"

Tim tries to assure her.

"Not me obviously, but someone here has a heart I'm sure!"

He quickly amends.

As pretty as the figure skater outfit is, it looks best on Peach and it should stay there.

Far, far away from him.

"Kon?"

Cassie starts, voice far too sweet for Tim's liking.

"Make Tim go next!"

The group burst out into laughter.

"I wanna go after Tim!" Anita chimes in over the giggles.

"I'm going after Anita!" Bart ads hastily.

"I don't mind being last" Cissie agrees with a shrug.

"I don't get a choice here, do I?" Tim tries weekly, and another bolt of thunder splits the skies above Wayne Manor.

Is this the Gods' retribution to protect Cassie's honour?

"That's what you get. You jinxed it with your stupid pants comment." Cassie says ruefully and Kon sends the wheel spinning.

"Let's see which outfit you get!"

Tim looks at the spinning tiles despondent. Who is he kidding? This will be embarrassing no matter what he gets as a result. At least they'll be going as a group.

He holds his breath as the needle glides over Patisserie Peach and ends on

"Oh thank fuck."

It's Kung Fu Peach for him. He can absolutely work with that.

"I hope you slip and fall off a rooftop." Cassie comments while pouting.

But Tim doesn't care. He gets to wear pants.

He falls back into his pillows in relief and the laughter of his friends is like a chorus of bells in his ears.

"Okay Anita! You're up next!"

Kon announces.

"Ready?"

Anita sighs

"Ready as I'll ever be."

And the wheel spins once more.

The needle slows on Cowgirl Peach once more and it's only by bare the barest .1 inch that it goes over to

"Oh, good, I was freaking out there for a second. Not that I mind dressing up as a cowgirl, it's just not my style, ya know?"

Anita breathes a sigh of relief as the results proudly announce Detective Peach as her draw.

The group congratulates her and they talk a bit about how Detective Peach unfortunately doesn't really have that much going on.

Tim offers to trade Kung Fu Peach for Detective Peach which is the one he initially was hoping for but is shot down.

"Okay enough talk, it's my turn now!" Bart interjects.

"Spinthething! spinspinspin!!!!"

"Alright, I hear you, I hear you, calm down!"

Kon laughs and spins the wheel again.

Tim can practically feel Bart's excitement radiating through his computer.

"And you geeeeeeet"

Kon stretches his words out as it's starting to look like the needle will once again go over to the next tile, which is Ninja Peach, and arguably one of the coolest ones on the roster, but it stops literally on the middle of the tiles and the result is

"Mighty Peach!" Kon proclaims. "Ha! It's not even gonna be that much different from your usual suit!"

"Boooo." Bart's clearly disappointed. "I mean it's not a bad draw but booooo it's so boring!"

He joins Cassie in their virtual pouting corner where he is immediately betrayed by her asking if he wants to trade.

To everyone's surprise, he actually seems to consider the offer.

"Mighty Peach is pretty cool, you know?" Anita offers comfortingly. 

But everyone knows that it really is a pretty boring choice. Mostly because of what they do on a daily basis.

It's not really dress up if you're just gonna wear your work uniform.

"Okay, let's get this over with." Cissie pulls them back to the wheel.

"Let's see. We have Classic, Radiant, Cowgirl, Ninja and Patisserie left. Honestly a pretty good selection not gonna lie."

"Fair enough." Kon remarks. "Maybe for those who are truly unhappy with what they got, we can reroll from the leftover ones and switch to those?"

They all debate the suggestion for a bit. It sounds tempting enough to pull both Cassie and Bart out of their sulking.

"Okay but do that after my draw." Tim can hear Cissie tapping her fingers impatiently.

"Right, sorry, here... you… go!" Kon puts on a little pizazz to make up for the distraction and Cissie's finger tapping freezes as she awaits her fate.

"Classic Peach! Didn't expect that!"

She huh's in surprise.

"It's not a bad draw." Tim offers.

"Yea but it's just so… pink." She still has surprise colouring her words.

"Maybe do one of her cosmetic designs?" Bart suggests, to which Cissie humms in thought.

"That's… not a bad idea at all.

"Alright, who wants to do a reroll?" Kon questions after scribbling down the results.

"We have four left and I really want that Cowgirl one." He tacks on.

"Wait no! Me first! I have the WORST one!" Cassie immediately interjects.

And… Tim can't really blame her. Figure skater dress is the furthest thing from what Cassie would feel comfortable in.

"As you wish!" Kon spins the wheel again…

And immediately regrets it when it slows down near Cowgirl.

"Nooooooo- oh ok"

Thankfully it passes that selection and ends on Patisserie Peach.

"Okay! Cute baker Peach! You can take it or leave it and stay with the-"

"I'm taking the baker!" Cassie doesn't even let him finish.

"Anything is better than figure skater!"

"Allright! Just let me ..add …"

Kon goes silent for a bit before speaking up again.

"Hey… should we add figureskater back in the wheel? Since she's not taken anymore and all…"

"You know you'd have to spin with her in there if you want the cowgirl right?" Cassie reminds him.

"I don't mind! Put her in, it'll be more fun!" Bart says at the same time.

"Is anyone besides me spinning again?" Kon questions, unsure if his previous offer will just bite himself in the ass.

"Me, duh!" Bart announces.

"But you can go first if you want."

Kon hesitates.

Adding figureskater back in would mean there's a chance he might end up with her outfit… but it would add more stakes….

And Kon is nothing if not a risk taker.

In the wheel she goes, and to Tim's "You sure about that?" Kon simply replies

"Yup."

Before potentially dooming himself with a mouse click.

He ends up getting Radiant Peach and declares he'll decide between his two options later, and, because he's clearly sulking about not getting Cowgirl Peach again, the group allows this to happen.

Radiant Peach is taken off the wheel and as the last spin of the night ensues another lightning bolt crashes over the Gotham sky and the manor's power goes out.

Tim blinks at his laptop in the sudden pitch black darkness incredulously.

Did he just get cockblocked by the weather???

Just as the backup generator starts up, and light slowly returns to the manor, Tim's phone goes off with a flurry of messages from the group chat.

He only needs to see the first notification to reveal that it was Bart who ended up the doomed one.

It reads one, simple, misspelt word.

FIGUREKSATER

[staticofthetv]

Take two!

Favourite frames from the new B-Side chapter, featuring some analysis because I have coherent thoughts this time 'round :D

Beware, spoilers below for the B-Side as well as the manga

@veiled-bird that goes for you too, you're nowhere near meeting this guy yet

First up, I love this chapters art. It reminds me of when I was little and asking my dad to help my brother and I beat the last level of episode 3 in lego star wars tcs

Also the chapter title? I have so many thoughts, they'll be discussed more in depth further down but they will be discussed /pos

Numbers weapon 1 mention!! I'm very excited to (hopefully) get more lore about it. Although I am curious if it's like a contact lens or something, I thought it was closer to a surgical implant or maybe some weird side effect from using numbers weapon 1. Mostly because I don't think he's been drawn with normal eyes yet in the manga (at least from what I remember)

Either way very much hoping we get some more numbers weapon 1 lore in this :)

This whole scene but specifically "what good does a test proving I'm abnormal do" hits so hard, especially as someone diagnosed with ADHD in my late teens. Having that feeling of there's something wrong with me for so long and being brushed off every time because I didn't act like the stereotypical 10 year old boy with severe ADHD (a psychiatrist literally told me and my mum i probably had adhd but she wouldnt diagnose me,) I did start to kind of give up on ever figuring it out.

Narumi was incredibly relatable to me in the main manga (not because I'm a badass, I'm very lame lmao) because of the behaviours he exhibits, hyperfocusing on games, constant dopamine seeking (through videogames and online shopping,) needing to be fiddling with something to better process the information being given out, etc.

Narumi is also incredibly smart, its stated explicitly that he got top scores in the entrance exam and I can't imagine those tests are anywhere near easy. It gives neurodivergent kid being told they just need to apply themselves to do better in school/make friends/just function in a neurotypical way in general.

This also comes from his being kicked out of several orphanages, and then even after joining the defence force (especially after being told by Isao that they take anyone that can show skills and results) getting kicked out by the second division and every platoon in the first until he ends up under hasegawa. Considering the title too this is 100% supposed to read as the classic "troubled kid" (many of which are neurodivergent) that not many are willing to put effort into helping. Isao is giving him a way out of the life of having no home to go back to, only to be struck with the threat of getting kicked out once again a year later. Narumi is a very skilled and capable fighter and no one in their right mind would argue with that and it once again all comes down to being labelled as too difficult, hard to work with, never paying attention

This chapter just hits so close to home with me

Baby Mina!! I know there's a decent amount if it in the manga but it's still weird to see her with short hair. I love her so much

There are many more words of appreciation I have but all thought went into dissecting Narumi's character lol

And so being kicked around by hasegawa begins

I love his face here, top tier expression

And here we see Isao solidifying the thought of skill and results being all that matters, there's no way Isao was going to let Narumi get kicked out, especially not after showing aptitude for handling numbers weapon 1. I like to think at this point he does also care for Narumi, I think he sees a lot of Kikoru (or what she could be) in him and especially he sees himself in Narumi. And even though he's only ranked captain Isao would clearly fight to keep Narumi on the force (he probably already had to for Narumi to get transferred to the first division instead of just being dropped when he didn't mesh with the second)

This is also the beginning of Isao and Narumi's mentor/mentee relationship, Isao knows exactly how to handle Narumi and his child prodigy-ness and help him reach his potential as a defence force officer. I think that's part of why Isao shows little care for how Narumi handles himself when off duty, it may be that he knows he can't change Narumi in that way, it may be that he himself just doesn't care for all the professional decorum, either way Isao plays the very important role of being Narumi's main support while he's in the defence force (until Isao dies anyway, whoops.) Narumi needed a space where he could not only be himself but be accepted for it and have the trust of his peers and superiors that he would get the job done when he needs to, and whether it was on purpose or not Isao provided exactly that for him.

This also ties back into the earlier ramble about Narumi being the typical undiagnosed neurodivergent "troubled kid"

(Also the origin of what Narumi says to Kikoru ~9 years in the future :D)

Omg jaeger is canon? Kaiju no. 8 and pacific rim crossover when? /j

Another interesting tidbit about Narumi is his self confidence, he knows he's capable and isn't afraid to tell people that. He says playing support is annoying but what I see is someone that knows he can do better placed somewhere else and has decided to take that into his own hands. He won't get kicked out of the defense force but I wouldn't be surprised if he gets into a shit ton of trouble for taking Isao's words to heart and disregarding his orders, even though I do think he'll be an asset to the battle and perform better being closer to the front lines.

Poor hasegawa has his work cut out for him keeping Narumi in check (a captain and vice-captain match made in hell)

[oathkeeper-of-tarth]

Isobel, Before

On something of a whim I decided to compile, in chronological order, the flashback segments from Isobel's POV that are woven throughout Moon-chosen, Moon-guided. I was curious how they'd read, and it turns out I quite like how they do - so here they are posted as a standalone little prequelish thing, a series of windows into a developing relationship and some family drama. This includes the segment I wrote for the upcoming third chapter, so consider it a sneak peek of an update that will take me a little while longer because it decided to develop a plot or some such nonsense, you know how it is. The years are my own very rough guesses, trying to somehow work around the Spellplague while keeping it all approximately a century before the main plot of the game, so don't take them too seriously.

Fandom: Baldur’s Gate 3 Characters: Dame Aylin/Isobel Thorm, Ketheric Thorm Length: ~8000 words Rating: M, for canon-typical violence (including temporary character death) and sexual content

---

1381 DR

-

It is an unusually warm and bright summer day for Reithwin, the relentless sun urging you to rush your errands around town and make your way home to the merciful shade. And it is upon your return there that you find the glorious Dame Aylin laying waste to an army of training dummies in the otherwise empty practice field beneath Moonrise Towers. 

You steal a moment to watch and appreciate the spectacle that is her entire being in perfectly orchestrated motion, uncharacteristically free of her ever-polished armour, sleeves rolled up - a vision of ferocity, even if it is against such laughably unworthy foes.

It calls to your mind, amusingly, the poor announcer in your father's audience chamber a little over a month ago, so very unusually formal and far too visibly nervous, struggling to rattle off one too many titles.

The Valiant Dame Aylin Silverblood, Undefeated Sword of the Moonmaiden, Paladin and Daughter of Selûne. Arriving as formal Emissary of Our Lady of Silver, speaking in Her name.

She turns when she hears you clearing your throat to announce your presence, an indulgent while after your arrival. Ever so slightly out of breath, with a subtle sheen of sweat on her radiant brow, she inclines her head with respect. "Ah! Lady Isobel. I was just thinking of sending to fetch you. A request, if you please."

"Of course, Dame Aylin." Anything for the resplendent emissary, you want to add, only half-teasingly. It is frustratingly difficult not to act a smitten fool around her, and sarcasm has proved a feeble defence from her charms.

Her request, however, is nowhere near anything you might have anticipated.

"I would have you meet me in the sparring ring, if you are willing."

You blink. "I-- pardon?"

"You are no mere lord's daughter, nor are you simply the demure local healer. I can tell by your bearing you have training. Not the typical mace of the clergy, no," she hums, as if in thought, looking you up and down quite brazenly, appraisingly. "The rapier, perhaps, along with a dagger for the offhand? No, rather, the quarterstaff--"

"The spear," you cut her off. And the lofty, approving tilt of her chin is so fetching as to be insufferable. "I can protect myself, you're right. My father is an accomplished general, after all," and stiflingly overprotective to boot, but that part you bite back and keep to yourself. "It is only fitting. Besides, any devotee of Our Lady knows how important it is to be able to fend for oneself."

"Show me, then, general's daughter," she gestures to the packed-dirt training ring with a grin. "I grow quite bored of this straw-filled wicker regiment I have been pitted against."

She's got a good head and a half of height on you. Her reach outclasses yours quite overwhelmingly. She is visibly broad and strong and unshakeable as a mighty fortress. And though you do indeed have training, the martial arts were hardly your main focus - very much unlike her.

A challenge, truly, but one you cannot help but suddenly crave.

"Fine, then, I accept." A giddiness washes over you as you speak, and your head feels oddly light. The heat and humidity of the day, surely. Treading dangerous ground, Isobel.

Aylin immediately goes over to the training weapon racks to put away the blunt sword she has been using, and you follow her.

"I have trained in arms of all sorts, but I find I most favour the greatsword," she muses as she rummages, retrieving two wooden staves with padded ends, testing their weight. "The spear I must confess I have neglected somewhat, in recent times."

You smirk as she hands you a staff that has evidently passed inspection. "There is no need for excuses, Dame Aylin. When I trounce you, I assure you it will have been fair and square and well deserved."

You expect the hearty bellow of her laugh, some lively banter in return, an exclamation, Ho! Instead, she inclines her head in a respectful gesture, and does so with a surprisingly soft smile and oddly inscrutable gaze in your direction. "I would expect no less of you, my lady." 

You look away hastily, wipe the sweat from your hands and put on the leather gloves from your belt. The day has been far too hot for them and the afternoon sun is still beating down fiercely, but you are not about to embarrass yourself and risk losing on the technicality of a splinter. 

Then, you face each other.

Her stance and the way she holds the wooden training weapon speak of years, decades… centuries of experience, perhaps. It is hard to truly imagine, and you find you do not really know. Immortal, yes, but… well, since when? Does she have a universe of deeds and escapades on you, a hundred lives lived to the fullest, or merely the knowledge that they lie ahead of her?

When could it possibly be polite to ask such a thing?

You shake away the distraction of your thoughts, just in time to block a quick, testing blow aimed at your own weapon. A tease, really, hoping for a reaction you know well enough not to provide.

She continues with the probing attacks, none of them with any real force behind them, and you think how under normal circumstances it might be a good strategy to let your opponent waste her strength and tire herself out like this - but you know better. You have discreetly observed enough of her training sessions to know that if she is anything at all she is tireless.

But she is leaving it up to you to attempt anything other than these light provocations. So you do - you would hate to disappoint, after all.

You strike out high at her head, once, twice, then at her front leg, swift as a viper, and when she moves her weapon down to parry, you jab at her shoulder and step back in time to avoid the afterblow. 

"Oh-ho! An excellent feint, perfectly executed!" The joy that lights her face even as she rolls the struck shoulder is so infectious, you can't help but laugh breathlessly, warmed by this small triumph. "I was indeed correct in my assumption - the most noble Lady Isobel is not to be underestimated. Her skills and merit extend far beyond even the lofty requirements of her duties - be they of the court or of the faith."

The next strike you attempt, flushed with both the heat of the day and the effusive praise, is met with far more resistance, and soon you are exchanging blows with vigour. She repays your shoulder blow with a tap to your hip, then tries to strike the staff from your hands in a disarm you just barely avoid with a well-timed tilt.

Your next attempt at a feint is parried at the very last moment, but you do not retreat, and so you end in a bind. She is much stronger than you, yes, but your angle is superior, and you can see her straining to stay in position, close to that ever-important centreline, and keep her balance. A bead of sweat trails down her neck to her collarbone, and it takes you a moment to realise you are following it, rapt. It takes you another moment to register she is staring at you just as raptly, even as you feel your hair sticking to your temples and realise the paint around your eyes is likely a smudged mess.

Distraction. An opening if you've ever seen one.

"Do you know, when I heard an emissary of Selûne was coming to our town, I did not expect her to have a bard's silver tongue on her." Instead of moving to disengage and putting distance between you, you draw even closer to her, until your mouth is almost at her ear. "In more ways than one, perhaps?"

Her eyes are wide and her cheeks are flushed silver, shining. It is the oddest and most captivating blush you have ever seen, made only more so by the closeness of your study.

And of course, the moment of distraction proves sufficient for that slight shift you needed. The great oak topples with so little effort - leverage, always, the key. Her reaction is faster than you anticipated, however, and so with the force of her riposte you go down right after her. Foolish of you, really - the thought has time to rush through your mind as your sense of balance disappears - to underestimate an accomplished paladin so.

In any case, within moments, Aylin is on the ground, and you land atop her. You have enough presence of mind, somehow, despite the proximity and the warmth and the, well-- to reach for where your weapon started to roll away and press the end of it lightly against her neck. "Yield?"

She raises her hands, palms up in surrender, and nods, struck speechless for once.

You scramble rather gracelessly to your feet in all your triumph, and offer her a hand up. She accepts, then somewhat disappointingly lets go to dust herself off before you've had a chance to fully appreciate the feel of her hand in yours.

"Well!" Aylin turns the bright glint of her full attention on you, charmingly tousled still. "I see no point in struggling to prolong a losing battle. A challenge, skillfully won." She steps closer to you and inclines her head in a slight bow. "Besides, I can tell my yielding on the field of battle pleases you, and I am not one to deny a lady her pleasure."

All of it spoken with a smile, and a shockingly honest, unmasked, open, and entirely unabashed look in her eyes. Damn her.

You do your best, feebly, to catch your breath and return to something resembling calm propriety. And you fail to squash a niggling doubt. "Thank you for the bout, Dame Aylin. But… honestly now, were you holding back?"

"Only as much as is appropriate for the training ring, of course. One is never to exert one's full might in these circumstances, as you well know." She shakes her head, a small frown furrowing her brow, and you can't help but feel this is a recitation she has been made to repeat until it stuck, something she had to deliberately become aware of after getting carried away one too many times. A thought to file away for later, perhaps. "But not in the sense you doubtlessly meant, no. I would not pretend and deceive after asking a fair duel of you. Such things are beneath Dame Aylin."

The heat floods your cheeks again. Damn her phrasing. 

"Ah," she clears her throat. "The day has grown too hot for martial pursuits, I fear - let us retire."

She offers you her arm, ever gallant. You allow yourself the bold indiscretion of taking it only after you have peeled off your gloves and tucked them back in your belt. You've not known Dame Aylin for a very long time, but you are well aware she is possibly the least subtle creature in all of Faerûn. The ill-concealed catch in her breath and stiffening in her shoulders as your skin meets hers is a treasured token you stow away for further contemplation.

It is a regrettably short walk to the pleasantly shaded entrance hall of Moonrise.

-

1382 DR

-

Sharran forces dare attack even here, in the shadow of your father's moonlit fortress, in the very heart of a famously devoted Selûnite region. Perhaps they heard, or tortured out of some poor soul, that their hated Moonwitch had sent an emissary.

But the emissary does not seem to be quite what they expected or prepared for.

You've heard of Dame Aylin's exploits, of some of the many glorious deeds to her name - well, to be quite honest, you've deliberately asked around for them and chased down all the tales, however ridiculous they seemed, with somewhat concerning single-mindedness. But none of them, not even the most outrageous exaggerations with all the force of poetic licence behind them, can compare to actually seeing her in the heat of battle.

It is certainly dangerous to be so distracted in the midst of a clearly planned and organised assault on your home, and it is especially egregious to keep looking up, chasing a vision as it flies somewhere high above all of you, soaring over the head of your father's statue gracing the centre of the embattled town square. But she is so utterly glorious and radiant and filled with unquestionable purpose in all that she does, and you are utterly beyond help.

"Selûne, Moonmother, in Your name!" The clear voice suddenly rings out from somewhere close by, drowning out the din of battle in your ears. You turn just in time to see a flash of silver light engulf one of the masked attackers, burnished black disks brazenly displayed on their armour, and, well, you are not the only one smitten.

But then - disaster. Three of Moonrise's most recently recruited silver-bedecked guards find themselves stumbling into a group of enemies that close a circle around them. You see one of them fall, gripped by inky-purple strands, before you can even start to intone a spell; another one loses his footing and opens himself up for a deadly blow.

Quick as lightning, Aylin rushes down and forward, pushing the stumbling guard fully out of the way. Instead of him, the cultist's scimitar finds purchase in her gut, sliding through a gap between armour-plates like butter, and another's obsidian-black axe bites into her shoulder.

The sound it makes, that Aylin makes, draws a shout from you. A bolt of moonlight dispatches the first cultist, rage and terror somehow making your aim uncanny, and you step forward to bathe the rest of his nearby comrades in deadly, burning radiance before he has even hit the ground.

After this, the battle is over as quickly as it had begun. The last of the attackers falls on her own blade rather than be captured and questioned, crying out some pitiful, ill-conceived mantra about secrets. 

You find you do not care: your world, for the moment, has sunk down to the breadth of one woman lying on the trampled ground in a distressingly rapidly growing pool of silver, the guards she saved hovering around her in a mix of awe and alarm.

They let you through without hesitation - you are a cleric, after all. A healer. But as you drop to your knees at her side and attempt to assess the damage, you can tell you are too late.

Your hands fly in well-practised movements all the same.

"Do not worry, fearsome, fair Isobel," Aylin manages, breathily, barely audible, around a mouthful of blood. Her hand makes a very weak attempt at a dismissive wave, or grabbing your wrist to stop your ministrations, you cannot quite tell. Her helmet and her wings are both already gone, and the silver burning in her gaze just moments ago is a weak flicker. "I--"

Her eyes flutter closed and she falls limp beneath your hands and you--

--do not have time to even begin to comprehend what has happened before she is gasping awake again, coughing and groaning, spitting up a clot, trying to sit up.

You gape for a moment, then help her in her efforts, lean her against your chest. The weight of the armour feels like it might crush you, but moving away feels unthinkable.

"No tears, no," she mumbles, half-coherently, as you strain to understand, as a gauntleted hand reaches up to brush against your cheek clumsily. "So mundane a blow cannot… truly fell… Dame Aylin."

It is one thing to be aware of it in theory. Another thing entirely to witness it. Immortal.

There is a crowd gathered around you by now, you register faintly. People crying out prayers of praise and thanks to the Moonmaiden, for Her infinite wisdom and Her endless gifts and the indomitable daughter-champion She has blessed you all with. You feel a tug in your chest, like you should be joining in; like you would be the one leading the prayer in ordinary circumstances. 

But you feel terribly far away from it all even as Aylin's breath grows more steady as she leans against you. You see her smile, still bloody, and understand only the most general sense of the reassuring platitudes she is whispering at you. 

You bring her to the House of Healing with the other wounded of the battle and insist rather possessively on treating her yourself. Only afterwards do you tear yourself away from her bedside to take full stock of damage and casualties while she sleeps it off. 

Your father rushes to embrace you tightly as soon as he catches sight of you from the House's grand entrance, and you let yourself cling to him for a moment. You do your best to assuage his worries, claim - lie - that you were in no real danger, insist on continuing to help here where you are most needed as he returns to his gubernatorial duties. And somehow, miraculously, he lets you go.

As you help the dutiful sisters with the worst of it, you finally manage to focus on murmuring your own prayer of thanks. It helps clear the long-clinging fog from your mind. And it helps, truly, that you count no deaths among Reithwin's faithful - the only fallen today are Shar's to claim if she deigns to do so.

Well - and then there's Aylin.

You go to check on her in the morning, after you've managed - been forced into, rather - a very brief nap. 

The glorious and apparently unconquerable Dame Aylin is awake, reclining against the headboard of the only occupied bed in that wing. You don't recall requesting she receive any special treatment, and she doesn't look too pleased with being singled out as if in a place of honour - in fact, she mostly looks bored. She is frowning down at herself, plucking at loose threads hanging off of the bandages that cover most of her shoulder, chest, and abdomen - your own handiwork.

You step into the room and set down the basin of fresh water and an assortment of healing supplies with a deliberately loud clatter, jarring her out of her reverie. The moment she sees you, an expression of blatant joy dawns on her face. You try very hard not to read too much into it.

Instead, you make very standard proper-bedside-manner-dictated small talk as you peel away the gauze. The wounds are mostly healed, as you would expect from your application of any and all magic you had remaining that night, but there is a small line of gold running down towards her left side, where the blade bit in and through, and another one cupping across her shoulder. Oddly beautiful for what is presumably a scar - and highlighting the marvellous build of a finely muscled torso, pipes up a segment of your mind that has no place around a sickbed.

You wrench yourself back into professionalism and lightly press down with your fingers, following the shining gold, the freshly knit-together skin, still reddened and bruised in places. "Do you feel any pain when I do this?"

"None at all," Aylin answers resolutely, entirely back to her old self. But then- "Ah," she winces as you find a particularly sore spot, expression wry, "it would appear I spoke too soon." 

You trace back up, murmuring incantations, letting the cool, healing relief flow from your fingertips.

The way she is unphased by all of this seems… uncanny. In fact, she shows more concern for you, completely untouched by the battle, than for herself. It is oddly and slightly frighteningly flattering, in retrospect, that she used her dying breath - well, this particular dying breath - to reassure you. 

And it all makes much more sense now, as things slot into place. The recklessness of her fighting style, of her whole manner. The way she shrugged off blows and rushed ever forward, where the battle was thickest and fiercest.

But now you've seen she is immortal, yes, but not invulnerable, however much she might like to act like she is both. And if she pulls herself out from literal death, no matter the scope of the wounds, she does not seem to magically heal much past that - the evidence is before you now. You can already picture her merely patching herself up with her own healing magic in the middle of the fray, as if in passing, just enough to enable her to storm on. All while her enemies gape and turn tail when they realise the futility of standing against her.

"I only hope you did not worry overmuch, Lady Isobel. It is in my nature, inextricable from my being. I cannot fall, not truly. But I keep the reminders, sometimes - wrought in gold."

Then she very cordially points out a few more, as if to indulge you. Some bigger, some smaller, some thin lines, barely there, some wide and jagged. But all of them bright gold seams, seamlessly integrated into her skin.

"Why not silver?" You blurt out, then feel your face burn with embarrassment. And then a mild but growing horror as you think back to the silver staining your hands and robes as you knelt on the damp cobblestones. This is in turn chased away by an odd warmth as you recall how she murmured your name and reached for your face. 

Aylin, however, guffaws joyfully, stopped short only by a sudden wince as she pulls something still tender.

"Would you believe - I do not know? It is simply how I am, how I have always been. Perhaps I shall ask my Mother to elucidate, when next we commune." Then she beams at you. "What a joy and pleasure you have proven to be, Lady Isobel. To make me consider things about myself I have never had cause nor inclination to before. A rare treasure."

You blame your lack of sleep on the ease with which she is managing to fluster you without even seeming to consciously try, so you do your best to keep your response polite and nothing more. "The pleasure is all mine, I assure you, Dame Aylin. All of Reithwin treasures your presence and is grateful for it, especially after tonight."

She looks up at you and you meet her gaze, pausing in your ministrations. She looks disappointed, if anything, and the disappointment is shared - those are not the words you truly wish to say to her. And you cannot quite explain to yourself why you feel like a sudden distance has sprung up between you, after months of a beautifully built-up rapport, laid on the foundations of those first few shared star-struck gazes. Why this one out of all the many reminders of her divine nature has shaken you so.

As you continue reapplying bandages and keep distractedly checking in with her about the tightness, she catches your hand and presses a kiss to your knuckles. "My wounds are a distant memory, for they are being tended by fair Isobel--"

There is a naked determination writ all over her face now. It brings to mind her battlefield bearing, more than anything else, but her eyes are wide and soft and almost pleading.

"Truly, I am in the best of hands." A kiss again, and she lets the hand go. It is a perfectly polite and courteous gesture. Nothing… scandalous. But there is a clear ardour to it you did not acknowledge before. Calling attention to a line you have not yet crossed, but that you have both, perhaps, been toeing for a while.

Then she moves to sit up fully, even through visible winces, and shrugs off the steadying hand you place on her shoulder.

"You are the worst patient I have ever had," you state dramatically, laughing. She merely cocks her head in response, so very winning and charming even when still covered in blood, dirt, and partially unravelled bandages. "I will go get some more fresh water so you can clean up - though we've already ruined these sheets, I fear."

But you do not move, despite your words. Your eyes have not left hers in what seems like hours, but can't have been more than a minute. There is a blatant yearning there that you know is reflected in your gaze, that you have both become utterly incapable of hiding.

"I would ask, greedily, another boon of my most gracious healer," she murmurs.

"Oh?" You lean closer, ostensibly to hear her quiet words better. "Why, Dame Aylin, after your valiant performance tonight, I might just grant it."

You are almost nose to nose when Aylin speaks up again, her throat visibly working, her entire impressive self working up the courage to leap the distance - and you find you very much want her to.

"A kiss, then. To drink but once from the lips of the incomparable Lady Isobel Thorm would soothe all that ails me, seal all my wounds."

You watched this woman take an axe to the shoulder and a sword through the belly, and only now does she sound hesitant. Nervous. Afraid, even. The smallest of trembles in that rich, regal voice.

"If… if I have misread, if I have misinterpreted your intentions, I beg your forgiveness with all possible contrition…"

Your reply is wordless as you surge forward, boon happily granted. The first of many to come.

-

1383 DR

-

The dinner is only slightly awkward, as far as these affairs have gone in the past. The most notable thing about it is that your father, it seems, has learned from last time.

First of all, Balthazar isn't here - wasn't invited, or had to beg off due to some undoubtedly important business. What your father sees in that man and why he holds his advice in such high esteem is quite beyond you. It is an amusing thought, however, that he, too, might have suffered from the horrible awkwardness and simply invented an excuse for this occasion.

Second - oh, Lady Arianella Bormul had been lovely, the very picture of elegance and rather breathtaking grace. With a crown of curls you felt a stab of envy over, and a perfectly cut gown that accentuated every curve of her and every dark blush shade of her skin. Carrying herself like a queen in the dining room, but perfectly polite and amicable in the conversations you two were inevitably forced into afterwards, with intriguing flashes of a cutting wit. But you shared so very little. And she was beautiful like a work of art whose objective qualities everyone agreed upon, you included, but that just were not to your personal taste.

Now you wonder just how obvious you'd made it.

As your father shoots you pointed glances from across the table and over a deliberately placed carafe of wine, you allow yourself, briefly, an entire slew of unkind thoughts. About how maybe things would be different if your mother were still here. About how much easier it would be if you had siblings, so that the entire future of Reithwin and the Thorm family and your father's heart didn't rest on your shoulders. About how selfish you truly would like to be. 

Then you shove it all back down and smile at the guests around the table, and offer your opinion about the most excellent skills of your local mason's guild and their potential for expansion.

The young Lady Jana Whitburn is strategically sat right across from you, as her father and yours conduct the important conversations on venison and marble and slate trade that this visit was ostensibly arranged for. She is tall and broad and clad in a marvellously fetching brocade suit of dark green. Her mother, rather obviously focused on you since their arrival in what is clearly a tactical division of duties agreed upon in advance, talks about Jana's successes in the tournament arenas across the Coast and her pending performance in Waterdeep's Field of Triumph. She herself, in a pleasantly deep yet melodic voice, mentions being interested in jousting, as a means of keeping her riding skills sharp while she is not out and about keeping her family's lands safe. Tilts her head at you with a winning smile at the conclusion of one adventurous story or other, the sharp cut of her chiselled jaw accentuated in perfect candlelight. You smile back, and poke half-heartedly at your tasteless dessert.

Later, you take her for a walk in Reithwin's small but well-kept gardens. She very gallantly offers you her arm, and you take it. Your father and her parents beam, and you contain your sigh. But when you look up at your companion, you are slightly surprised to notice that there is something brewing behind her eyes as well.

As soon as you are out of eyesight and earshot, you stop, take your hand off her arm and turn to face her.

"My apologies, Lady Whitburn…"

She almost winces when you address her, and shakes her head as if she is trying to physically shake off the formality and the trailing remnants of the dinner atmosphere. "Jana, please, Lady Thorm." 

"Jana, then," you smile your most agreeable smile, "and so I must be Isobel, no?"

"Of course, Isobel," she smiles back, but it is clearly strained, and you feel nothing so much as pity.

"Listen, Jana, I…" You hesitate, struggling to put your words into polite, inoffensive shape.

All this does is highlight the lack of Aylin, the lack of the connection and utterly natural understanding between the two of you. The ease. Even when there was supposed to be some fundamental and unbridgeable rift between you, according to your father.

"I'm afraid my father has misled you and your family - not out of any desire to harm, nor with ill intent. But, you see, I… I already have a lovely woman courting me. Well, rather further along than mere courting, I would say…"

To your surprise, Jana bursts into laughter, light and clear, and you are spared the embarrassment of elaborating further.

"Isobel, you cannot believe what a relief that is for me to hear."

You pause, a bit taken aback by the enthusiasm of her response. "Oh?"

"I'm afraid I count myself taken as well. Now, make no mistake, you are perfectly charming, and a delight in conversation. But," she waves a dismissive hand, "the heart wants what it wants and all that."

"That it does," you agree, and this time your smile is genuine. A tension you had gotten so used to seems to melt away from your shoulders, and the two of you resume your stroll among the gardener's latest offerings. "My father, well… he's a shrewd man. You and my Aylin would get along splendidly, I think. You seem very much alike in many ways."

"As would you and my Iona. She is training to be a cleric too, an acolyte of Ilmater. I swear, the realms have never seen a more patient and kind creature. Whenever I visit her at the temple I take a moment to observe her finishing her rounds - the way she all but glows with compassion is--" Jana halts both her words and her steps, slightly embarrassed, as if she has only now caught herself in her charmingly lovestruck enthusing. "Ah, but I've gone off on a tangent, haven't I?" 

You cannot help but smile at the sight of someone so utterly, beautifully enamoured. It is, after all, a feeling you happily know all too well.

"Please," you gesture at a bench behind some conveniently tall rose bushes - one of your favourite spots. "Don't stop on my account. Though, of course, now I can't help but wonder… what is your family's objection to the match? If you don't mind me asking," you add hastily.

Jana gives a wry smile as she takes a seat. "My parents would prefer someone of much higher birth for me." 

"I think mine would prefer I set my sights lower," you chuckle ruefully.

Jana's interest seems to be piqued. "Is that so? I've heard some… rumours, since our arrival. I've been wondering about, well, what kernel of truth spawned them."

"Have you, now?" You arch an eyebrow, allow a bit of bite into your tone. "You've barely been here a day - I wouldn't have taken you for a gossipmonger."

"You'll have to forgive my natural curiosity," her grin is as easily charming as it was during the dinner, but now, in the unexpectedly pleasant atmosphere of friendly understanding, you allow yourself to fully appreciate it, and to grin back. "But you must admit it's a bit unusual, Isobel. A celestial paramour… I suppose your father wants you to look lower than the very moon in the sky?" 

Her dramatic gesture in the general direction of said moon earns her a giggle, which she seems to take as encouragement.

"Is it true she single-handedly took on a score of Nightcloaks and won?"

You think back over the many rousing tales of victory Aylin has shared with you, and when nothing rings a bell you realise she must be talking about the raid last summer.

"You mean here, when the Sharrans dared to attack Reithwin?" It's hard to contain your amusement at her eager nod. "Well, it wasn't exactly single-handed and there were no Nightcloaks among the Sharran forces, but I can confirm she was certainly impressive."

You decide to leave out the part about Aylin dying and coming back right before your eyes. It is something you've yet to discuss with her, more than a full year later. Something you've no idea how to bring up, and something that inspires in you feelings you cannot quite define.

Something you know you will have to confront, one day.

For now, you sit on a secluded bench and shirk familial duties with a fellow highborn daughter. The two of you trade stories for the rest of the evening, and by the end of it you feel like you've known both Jana Whitburn and Iona Bluewater for years, and find yourself rather invested in the future of their relationship. In turn, you hope to have painted a picture of an Isobel who is more than just General Thorm's daughter, and of an Aylin who is something besides her divine silver bloodline.

You part amicably when the time comes, even promise to write to one another. Later on, the leave-takings complete, both of you having played your respective parts well enough to buy yourselves some very brief reprieve, you go to retreat to your room. Every stair you climb still seems to drop your heart that much deeper into a listless moroseness.

The air in your room is heavy and stale after the garden's freshness, so you decide to take your brooding out to your balcony. You may have won a friend today, but your father will be in a dour mood when he finds out his attempt has once again fallen through. And then how long until he plans another? Or turns to something else? No, this was simply untenable--

A gleaming Aylin alights on the balcony and pulls you into an embrace in a single, elegant movement, and it is like the Moon rising to dispel the dark of a cloudy night.

The first thing you notice as you are subjected to one kiss after another is that your beloved seems to be of a rather amorous disposition. You still wear your jewels and your finest silver-blue gown, the picture-perfect lady. But with the way Aylin's hands are wandering you sense this might not be the case for very long.

You place a hand on her chest, the metal pleasantly cool against your palm, and she stops, looking at you both questioningly and with blatant yearning.

Which should be ridiculous. You were barely apart for a day! You've gone longer without seeing each other when Aylin flew away on some divinely ordained quest or mission or another. But the feelings you read on her face are a perfect reflection of your own, and you are sick of the very thought of denying them. Instead, you throw your arms around her and draw her close once more.

"I missed you," you murmur the truth into her neck, just above the edge of her gorget, into that bit of unearthly pale skin that is always so conveniently available for you to kiss.

"I have dutifully stayed away, exactly as you bade me to," Aylin doesn't sound too disgruntled, and for that you find yourself both grateful and relieved. "But your guests are gone at long last, and so I consider my duty done."

You suppress a scowl at the bitterness that rises in you - because yes, you did pull Aylin aside and request, against the palpable wishes of every fibre of your being, that she not show herself around Moonrise today. All in the ultimately futile pursuit of appeasing your father, in a way so shallow and childish and stupidly obviously temporary that you feel a flare of anger - disgust, even - at yourself for not standing your ground. For going along with it all in the first place. But the slight yet audible disdain Aylin puts on the word guests is too conspicuous, too intriguing, and so your curiosity trumps your rising guilt.

"Do you have something against the Whitburn family?" Surely, if there was something objectionable about them, your father wouldn't have invited them the way he did. Aylin would have warned you of anything sinister. But then, suddenly, a different, more darkly amusing flavour of thought arises. "Or do you merely not like Lady Jana Whitburn?"

Aylin huffs, tilts her head with an unconvincing nonchalance. "She seems a fine woman. A knight with several deeds to her name - in particular some courageous outings against a local Cyricist offshoot, very recently. I hear she conducted herself with utmost skill and bravery."

"You've looked into her, I see?" You ask teasingly. Aylin's frown alone is an entire hundred-page novel. "Aylin. Are you jealous?"

The tinge of possessiveness in the way she holds you against her chest is clear to you now. You also find you have no complaint to give.

"I cannot help but feel this latest attempted match is… rather shrewdly targeted. Do you not find it so? Why, I would near take it as a slight."

With some reluctance, you pull away the slightest bit in order to face her properly.

"Aylin, look at me," you tilt her chin up, make her meet your eyes, reaching over to smooth the thundercloud away from her brow. "Forget about it, about them. I would have none but you - you know this by now, I hope. Only you."

Forever, you dearly wish you could say, sometimes. Your fingers trace down her cheek and to her lips as you watch her ire pour back into fervour. 

"Isobel, I swear, from the moment our eyes met, I--"

You interrupt her with a kiss - she is too striking and too beautiful and too achingly, passionately devoted not to.

The entire situation is a problem to solve, and a mounting one. You can tell by your own rising annoyance and resentment each time the subject comes up that you cannot entertain your father's attempts at denying your relationship for much longer. But you can sense in both your and Aylin's current moods that any discussion will be anything but productive.

You break apart, but stay close enough for you to whisper against her mouth. "Why don't we stop wasting time, and instead of wallowing in misery, you take me to bed."

A different frown creases her brow now as she inclines her head towards the door you left ajar behind you. "Your bed? Here?"

You glance back as well, almost drawn in and through the imposing towers of Moonrise and all it represents.

"Yes," you reply with little hesitation. You decide then and there to be done with this farce. No more flying away to stay at Last Light, or utterly unsubtle attempts at sneaking off, slinking back before dawn only to present yourself downstairs come morning, unacknowledged but fooling nobody. There are other methods in your arsenal besides pointless subterfuge. "And tomorrow - if you wish to join us, of course - I would like to invite you to breakfast. Where you will sit at my side."

Where you belong, you swallow back, keeping your mock-proclamation formal. Where the world should and will acknowledge you belong.

Aylin's smirk reassures you she understands fully how you intend to play this. "How could I decline my lady's invitation?"

You tilt your chin up, the picture of a lady issuing a decree, even as your lips curl into a smile. "Despite any slights, intended or not, and protests from my family, it is an honour to have you here. I will see that it is better demonstrated, as it should have been from the start."

Or perhaps it would be better to say how it was at the start, before Ketheric Thorm's welcome for Selûne's emissary cooled down to an icy, formal tolerance - of course, exactly as your and Aylin's relationship blossomed, decidedly informal, regardless.

Aylin's mouth is hot on your neck as she effortlessly lifts you up and carries you inside. You feel her grin through her kisses. "I think, Isobel, you'll find the honour is all mine. And so is having you. Here or anywhere else."

You cannot help but laugh, taking her face between both your hands and peppering it with kisses in return, always delighted by her utter lack of both subtlety and hesitation.

Once Aylin plants you on the bed and herself between your thighs, your dress lost to some darkened corner and her gauntlets lost to the aether, she leaves little room for thought or speech. Relentless and utterly driven, she refuses to stop until your legs are jelly, your head is void of all concerns, and your heels have all but left dents in her backplate. 

Her face both glows and glistens when she rests her cheek against your stomach at long last, alight with some private amusement and sheer pride. You thread your hands through her hair and catch your breath, and for a little while simply bask in her presence.

She stretches out a bit, unfolds her wings just enough to let fluffed-up, ruffled feathers settle back into place, and you sigh at the sight. So magnificent in her devotion, your angel.

Aylin next makes a show of licking at her fingers with a pleased smirk, then her lips for good measure. "I may not have been invited to the evening's festivities, but my darling, ever caring, ever thoughtful, provides bountiful nourishment nonetheless. It is the height of honour, to have such a delight saved for me alone."

You flush and squirm, and would like to state something rather precise and factual about moon cycles and the workings of your mortal body. "Aylin!" You throw an arm over your burning face instead. "Gods, you say such things…"

"But you take such delight in it when I do," she replies, tilting her head faux-innocently.

"I adore it. I adore you. Come here and I'll show you just how much."

This is what prompts her to finally take a moment to dismiss her armour, bringing her next to you in a heartbeat. You take another precious few seconds to marvel at how perfectly she fits into your arms, like she was made to be there, instead of for any divine mission.

You spend the night curled around each other in a too-small bed, both of you choosing to be utterly brazen.

-

1385 DR

-

You were very young when your mother died. The searing, half-understood pain of her departure had time to dull into an ache, then into a sense of absence you have grown up with, that will always be yet another part of you. You keep her final letter, and reread it less and less as the years and then decades go by. You can hear and feel her words just as well in the soft, warm moonlight that blankets Reithwin on blessed nights. It makes you feel like you can firmly grasp and hold and understand all that she tried to leave you with.

There is a distinct sense that she is proud of you. That she will see you again one day and tell you so herself. So you smile up at the Moon, the ever-changing treasured constant in your life, and bask in the pale, gentle love you receive in return. 

When you lost a mother, Reithwin lost its head cleric. In the years since, it has had only interim duty-bearers. And you understood, years ago, even as you settled into a promising role in the House of Healing, that you were being looked to as the replacement.

And true - this has ever been your calling. You feel you were born for this service, sometimes, so easily does it come to you - the deeply felt devotion, the lightness of moonlight always ready at your fingertips, the sheer awareness of Her presence, of all She gives and provides and strives for. A cause so good and just and right you would barely deign to call it a choice - though a choice it is, always, freely made by you, again and again and again.

So when you reject the notion of taking up office at Reithwin - at least for the foreseeable future - and announce your plan for undertaking several pilgrimages of increasing length and complexity, it causes a stir among the clergy and a dark thundercloud to settle upon your father's brow.

The further away the locations you list as you stand before him in his study, oddly formal, the deeper his frown becomes. By the time you mention leaving Waterdeep and the House of the Moon and the settlements on the way to Neverwinter, he raises a hand to cut you off.

"I do not think this is wise, Isobel. There is need of you here. The roads are perilous--"

"I can take care of myself. You know I can, papa - you've seen to that. I have trained and prepared for this all my life." Then you smile, hopeful, and make your biggest misstep. "Besides, Aylin will be there to protect me, should the need arise--"

"Of course she will," you catch the mutter under his breath and your mouth slams shut.

You take a deep, steadying breath, and reach across the desk to lay a gentle, reassuring hand on your father's, meeting and holding his heavy gaze. "Reithwin is my home. No matter where the road takes me, no matter how far, I'll always come back. And to you as well, papa."

Reithwin, ancestral seat of your family, safe and idyllic, surely does not need you as much as the wide world; the vast, colourful, challenging variety of the realms. There is so much you can do, and offer. What good are gifts if you are not going to use them? Hoarding them, hiding away, sheltered - no, you refuse to be a waste.

"I need you here, Isobel."

There is an edge of desperation to your father's voice that makes your breath catch and your eyes burn. A pain that calls to mind, oddly, the sting of the black ink being slowly applied around your lids, a needle shaping the curl of the holy symbol down towards your cheekbones. 

And there it is, perhaps - the real root of the struggle at hand.

"I can't be your little girl forever," you exhale, frustration mounting, somewhat undercut when you see the naked hurt on his face. "I can't be just that," you amend. "I have an entire life to live. My own life."

"With Aylin," he suggests darkly. Disapprovingly. "And when she carelessly discards you, a mayfly in her eyes--"

"Is that what this is truly about, again? Father," not quite papa at the moment, no, as you try so very hard to keep your calm in the face of your own rising irritation, "must we?"

"How can I not, Isobel? When she has clearly been feeding you this - this drivel."

"It has nothing to do with her!"

The doubt is writ plainly all over his face, and you bristle. Fine. If he is not ready to relinquish his chokehold over Isobel Thorm, cherished daughter, then he will have to reckon with Isobel, accomplished cleric of Selûne, and prospective Silver Lady initiate. You let go of his hand and step back, square your shoulders demonstratively, stand up ramrod straight.

"Our Lady champions and rewards self-sufficiency, agency, travel, and discovery - of ourselves, the world around us, and all in it who might need guidance or help in any way. It is mine to freely give, and I intend to do so, wherever I am needed. In Her name."

You turn and leave without waiting for your father to scrounge up a response.

It is the last conversation you have with him for a century.

-

It happens so very quickly, for something that would rewrite the fate of your home and all you ever loved for the next hundred years. Like a carelessly tossed pebble turning into a rockslide.

An ominous chill that barely has the time to register fully; a bark-whine from Squire, cut short; a searing pain in-- through-- your side and your chest, fading into numbness within moments, so fast that you barely choke out a desperate blood-drowned breath as blackness swarms the edges of your vision; a frantic cry of Isobel! ringing out from somewhere above or below; and then--

nothing

and nothing, and nothing, and nothing.

[eri-lessthan3]

Right, as my rimworld ice playthrough is nearing it's end (?), I suppose I should introduce the colony!

Behold, the Lanwell! Our humble abode, where we have survived checks the days 463 days, wow!

Let me show you around!

The brightest room we have is the Schneider's throne room, since she is soon to become a countess! And yes, we are so rich that we can afford to keep the braziers constantly lit (this wasn't always the case ;p). This room also functions as a place for people to hang out and listen to music or look at the art collection that is way too big for this small room ;P

Right next to it are the main rooms, from which it all started. The kitchen, which used to be our only room at some point, with a nutrient paste dispenser, fueled entirely by uhhhhh... friendly donors! ^^

We also still have our wind turbines as a secondary power source, though we are mostly reliant on chemfuel generators now! Some of which we stole from ancient vaults, and these guys are very efficient :3

We also have our little storage room right next to it. It is mainly a freezer, buuuut it also stores a bunch of random junk, since this is usually how I end up playing rimworld anyway >.<

Next to the kitchen is the heart of our colony, the hydroponics! This is the only reason why we can live and prosper, as it provides us with food, clothes, medicine, beer, wood, money, and even chemfuel from rice, if we run out of it! Thought this room has seen some destruction before, we obviously need it to always function :3

Our colony grew right from that luscious heart. We have our workshop area, our personal bedrooms (don't mind Dorgo, he is just jealous and he really wants some jade sculptures in his room -.-). Although unfortunately, those two rooms on the left are empty. Rest in Peace, Vulcavein. We also have our research room and a hospital, which is often the target of enemy drops, for some reason >.<

To the right of those rooms, we have completely incorporated this space between our base and the mountains. We have a rec room, which used to be a school, we have our temple to Ithalux, with his sigil painted on the floor. As we are also transhumanist, we have neural superchargers and biosculpter pods, and speaking of that

Say hello to Cambiar! He is currently undergoing age reversal procedures, so he probably can't hear you, actually. Anyways

We have a rather empty, yet surprisingly comfortable prisoners barracks, even though if we ever do get prisoners, they usually don't stay here for long...

And yeah, we also have our small gene-tailoring room from that one time I bothered to go out onto the map for a secret vault, and also bothered to bring this stuff back, but we never used it, and we can't regularly loot vaults either, as it can get to -60 degrees with no problem. Our feeble human bodies must stay inside of the base for most of the time. Speaking of that:

This is the reason we have our mech friends! They help us run our base, defend it, and are our only real way to go outside during the winter without freezing to death. Although we don't really do that anymore, as there is no reason to leave our perfect colony.

Speaking of that, meet Manuel, our first and only android! He is also part of our defences, but he is quite helpful around the base, and he can venture into cold without risking his life that much. In fact, we had to send him on a mission to destroy a mech cluster at some point, and together with our mechs (which uhhh, were hard to control that remotely) he dealt with that easily, definitely nothing went wrong. And he doesn't have to eat, which means that he can caravan forever, I think.

I suppose I could also present these few bedrooms, with Schneider's royal one standing out the most. She has to have one, as we are planning to leave this hostile world and join our new friends in the Broken Imperium. Now that I say it, that name doesn't bring much hope, but it should be fiiiine.

For that, however, we will need to protect a royal for quite some time, and thus we have prepared quite the room for them! You can also see our devilstrand growing zone, as we try to extract the most out of this rocky soil. And uhh, don't look at the top, there is nothing to worry about there ^^'

For you see, we have our small factory over here! Thanks to the VFE - Mechanoids, we can produce steel and plasteel out of basically nothing! This used to produce components instead, hence why the weird layout, but our fabricors can do that on their own. We also have a medicine production facility, though it is currently off. And we have our magic neutroamine generator! Don't question how it works, don't look into that room! Better focus on our neat android workshop, which really didn't need so much random junk there, but I am just figuring stuff out ;P. And yeah, this is why we need the neutroamine!

Yeah, there is nothing more to see of this colony! Just a bunch of monuments and steam power plants, and that is all ;P There is no need to open those doors, they just lead to empty monuments we had to construct for quests and such :3

And that was the tour ^^

Now, the reason I did this is that we will try to leave this planet once the "summer" starts here, and I will try to not save scum too much. I really enjoyed this colony, but I feel like it is time to move on. I have so many other rimworld ideas either way. So yeah, hopefully see you in the stars!

[straw-beret]

what's up with the pacman machine in the link click opening?

well friends, I'm about to cobble together some information that is so irrelevant to the main plot!!

(also: i came up with this theory prior to episode 11 coming out, but when it did, it only really solidified it for me).

more under the cut :) and spoilers for the most recent episode of link click (episode 11 season 2)

if you know me from my most recent link click post, you'll know i am unnaturally obsessed with the claw machines of the season 2 opening.

But wait, what's that third machine in the middle? The yellow-ish one that's sort of dimly lit?

it's a fucking pacman arcade machine.

a pacman arcade machine that doesn't appear in the show itself.

being me, i had to go on the most unnecessary deep dive into what the hell the relevancy of this pacman machine could be. it's jammed between two of the claw machines in the intro but mysteriously absent in the episode itself. and while i don't have an explanation for THAT (if anyone has an idea, pls lmk!!), i do have some info on the game.

when you start up a game of pacman, this is the general visual you're going to get:

In my opinion, the most important thing to note is the colours of the ghosts. Notice we've got three in that box: blue, pink, and orange. And outside we have red. Do these colours happen to remind you of anything— or rather, anyone?

that's right. the link clickers are the ghosts in Pacman.

All jokes aside, I do think there's at least a bit of merit in this observation. Because red— i.e. qiao ling, is isolated from the power users.

(pink could be either of the Li twins, for convenience's sake i'm just going to assume it's Tianxi for one bit of speculation i'll explain later).

Why isolate one of the three original mains from the other two, and instead have a new character take her place?

Because, as I speculated before in my claw machine theory, qiao ling is not safe!!! in both the claw machines and Pacman, the symbol/motif associated with Qiao Ling has been positioned on the outside of the box.

Now, a character being in the box doesn't guarantee safety, you'll know this especially if you've seen the most recent ep (s2e11) and the trailer for ep12. However, it does provide something of a line of defence— i.e. the box is sort of a symbol for the fact that CXS, LG and LTX are power users.

Qiao Ling was the very first person to get possessed by red eyes, she is the most 'vulnerable' of the OG 3 in that sense. aside from her martial arts realness, she can't defend herself on a supernatural level. she no way of teleporting out of a fight like CXS or seeing into the future to predict her opponent's moves like LG could.

qiao ling, as a normie, is isolated from the power users and thus more at risk to being harmed by the enemy. For the ghosts, it's Pacman, and for the link clickers, it's this motherfucker:

crustlord of the century Qian Jin.

I think pacman is supposed to symbolise him on account of 1. the yellow eyes and 2. the fact that he's out to get basically every single one of the ghosts:

QL

CXS

LG

LTX

Hence why this theory works a lot better with LTX as the pink ghost instead of LTC— Tianxi betrayed QJ, and the one thing he hates most is betrayal.

I feel as though the AI patterns of the Pacman ghosts sort of align with this too:

"Each of the four ghosts has their own unique artificial intelligence (A.I.), or "personality": Blinky (Red) gives direct chase to Pac-Man; Pinky (pink) and Inky (blue) try to position themselves in front of Pac-Man, usually by cornering him; and Clyde (orange) will switch between chasing Pac-Man and fleeing from him"

"Each ghost's name gives a hint to its strategy for tracking down Pac-Man: Blinky always chases Pac-Man, Pinky tries to get ahead of him, Inky uses a more complicated strategy to zero in on him, and Clyde alternates between chasing him and running away."

^^ those two quotes are from the Pacman wikipedia page, a robust source indeed. in the first quote I put the colours of the ghosts in bold and by their proper names for reference.

If we assume Pacman is QJ and Red ghost is QL, and we remember how she bitch slapped QJ in episode 3 season 2:

I'd say that at the very least the AI behaviour + QL's actions are somewhat correlated. And i'd say that the AI behaviour of the other ghosts lines up with their respective characters, LG being strategic and CXS being a bit more chaotic in his approach. As for Xixi, well, we kind of haven't seen enough of her to say.

but "via," i hear you say, "Li Tianxi got fucking murk'd in episode 11, AND she's the one with red eyes! why isn't she the red ghost, and not qiao ling?"

I see you and I hear you. Both QL and LTX have associations with both red and pink, and in fact upon first coming up with this theory i thought LTX was the red ghost as well. But considering the placement of the Pacman machine (between the claw machines+around the rabbits, see my previous post for details on the stuffed rabbits and their relevancy) as well as official art and in-show costuming, I figured that it made more narrative sense (and theory sense) for QL to be the red ghost. Plus she's just more heavily associated with red than either of the Li twins, who are costumed in more light pastels

for reference, I put TC both in and out of drag above^^ and in his xixi cosplay, he wears almost entirely pink.

back to the theory. Qiao Ling's ghost is on the outside; and the stuffed rabbits that I'm almost positive symbolise her are piled on the outside of the claw machines. Surely this isn't a coincidence, right?

this all comes back to my theory that Qiao Ling, as the outsider of the group, the only one without powers, and the last to be informed of all the supernatural happenings, is going to meet a certain fate either by the end of s2 or around the start of s3. And I think the show has tried to set it up from the start.

Although Qiao Ling didn't become incredibly plot significant until I'd say about halfway through S1, we saw a few glimpses of her that were framed to highlight her vulnerability. Off the top of my head, I can definitely think of the horror-movie esque way s1e3 opened, where a strange man, later revealed to be Chen Xiao, approaches her from behind after appearing in a dark alley. Plus there is of course, her possession by LTC in s1e11. So from the get-go, she is framed as the odd one out of the main 3, and the most at risk.

then we get to the intro of s2, with the stuffed rabbits and the pacman machine, and it starts to come together, as stupid as that may sound. the writers are foreshadowing that something is gonna happen to Qiao Ling, and given the way everything connects, I'm of the opinion it could be death, or possibly grave injury.

that's all i've really got to say! curious as to what others might think of this, because it's all founded on the colours of a fckin Pacman game lol.

_

having seen the e12 trailer for s2 and qiao ling looking like she was gaining a power, I wonder how the finale is going to play out and if it will fit with the visuals and symbolism in the intro. oh well, we'll see!

also good LORD these posts take a long time to make!! let me know what you think, and also if you've got any clue as to why the Pacman machine appears in the intro but not the episode. Maybe IP reasons, although i don't see why they'd end up including it at all in the intro if copyright or IP was a concern. anyways, that's all!

[pinovapie]

Shattered Hope Tierlists

Okay, first of all, why is there barely any Danganronpa F: Shattered Hope fan content???? /jk

Secondly, as you may have guessed, welcome to my new obsession lol, it's weird, i first watched it years ago and i didn't really click with any characters that much,,, i know i liked POCKET (did not mean to type that in all caps but i'll leave it cos it's funny-) because of the VA's insane enthusiasm but i don't really remember anything else except the first victim. Anyways, rewatched recently and i'm instantly super invested!! May even rewatch episodes 7-10 and make a theory post!! Anyways tierlists!

Fav Characters

Rock is my favourite (i can't wait to be crushed by his inevitable death! Yippee!! /jk)

(for clarification i don't dislike any characters so far!)

WARNING: Spoilers for up to episode 10/first victim + investigation of shattered hope!!

These are my predictions!! The only things i feel strongly about are Enigma not making it to the end and Rock killing someone (either an unwilling/self defence kill or he snaps lol)

Listen, i know people think Rissi is a lil sus but i'm on the Rissi taking over as protag when Enigma perishes theory!!

For masterminds, i don't actually think the mastermind is one of the participants, i think it's more likely that the main mastermind is safely outside the game and they have traitor inside the game (willingly or unwillingly is yet to be seen.) So here's my suspicious list of potential traitors!

I know, i know, Rox could be an unwilling traitor but i believe that she's a red herring. Potentially, they ALL heard about Monokuma in some way but only Rox kept her memories of it. That way Monokuma showing up would immediately draw attention to her and make her suspicious. Therefore, she gets her own category !

As for Enigma and Anon, they're suspicious because of them lacking their talents completely but otherwise have no obvious connections. Corza is obviously the most obvious choice for unwilling traitor although he seems genuine in not knowing what Rules plan is or why he's doing it.

Rock's a weird one, i don't want to think he's secretly evil or something but he's been acting extremely suspiciously during the investigation. If his testimony about being the only one in the room when the BDA played is true (and based on Cross not thinking he's the culprit + Cross and Anon being able to call him out for lying, i do think it's true) that asks more questions. He could be a good pick for an unwilling traitor in my opinion. Maybe the MM told him to retrieve something from the scene because it pointed to them? Who knows.

Scarlet could be a hiding in plain sight threat. She seems nice and genuinely apologetic for her actions however.

Cross is another weird one. It could go either way honestly, he could be innocent, a willing traitor, an unwilling traitor or even the first killer based on his actions so far. Him constantly targeting Rox and Corza is seemingly reasonable on the surface but, if we assume the theory that they have memories of the hosts specifically to make them suspicious, it could very well be him trying to instigate a murder. He's seeming to be the 'Byakuya Togami' character but i doubt they'd do the same arc with such an obvious parallel. This is partially my reason for putting him here.

For the rest of the characters, even though we know plenty of info about them, there's not enough to fully come up with proper theories so they're sorted based of of vibes. I'd like to give honorary suspicious points to Twin and Moriteru for their talent and their personality respectively.

The idea of the ultimate voice actor being the mastermind/traitor is entertaining and definitely a fun idea. However, i think at this moment in time, he hasn't done anything remotely suspicious (honestly, he's kinda like Whit Young from despair time, suspicious for just existing and vibing rip) so he's not suspicious to me.

Moriteru, like Cross seems to be vaguely similar to Kokichi. Similarly to Cross, i don't think she'll have the same arc. I don't think we've seen enough of her for me to fully suspect her and i feel there's multiple paths she could take as a character. Including a traitor who's goal is to cause disruption. Alternatively, i could see her and Yaxi being involved in a murder in some way due to their obvious dislike of each other. Maybe the power of friendship wins her over and she's a survivor, who knows?

Anyways, thanks for listening to me ramble about my new obsession :D!!

[fymagnificentwomcn]

I still have plenty to say on the topic, so bear with me, the original link is here, it would be too much there I think.

Anyway thank you Sol @palaceoftears for these tags that succinctly sum up the main point of the original post, let's bring them as starting point here:

#joanna you ate this!!! missed reading you#truly love how deeply you analyzed that confronting suleyman IS confronting the system!#also the freeing aspect because like freedom doesn't have to mean happiness?#yes ofc hurrem wouldn't be happy knowing ultimately suleyman didn't love her & her children over himself#but it's still freeing to not live yout whole life brainwashed lol?#like I never get how ppl that loves her watch her going from 'i'll kill the sultan' & 'don't treat us as animals' to dependant on suleyman#and just go 'happy ending :D' about it#mahidevran sultan#hurrem sultan#sultan suleiman#magnificent century#muhtesem yuzyil

You know how much I dislike Surrem, but I absolutely get people shipping it without getting it like "happy in love" (huge kudos to my sis Tisha) since it's an extremely complicated, mutually toxic relationship, while yes they do love each other at same time. But they are both each other's heaven and hell simultaneously throughout the whole show, with Hürrem being in worse position due to power imbalance. Power imbalance that never fully goes away. He might also be dependent on her in emotional way since he himself comes to belief she is the only person who would never betray him (because she truly had least benefit in it). Don't be fooled though, if she had e.g. crowned Bayezid in S3 as Sah intended, he would have shown her no mercy. /I once mentioned a bit about them, also historically here./

And LBR she got mistreated by him (please, he told her to kill herself for him, and the goal was not to determine whether she had poisoned Mustafa truly) multiple times before S4, it was only because of the topic covered I mentioned S4 stuff, especially related to how he screwed her kids.

People think of stuff in "tangible" categories and why stuff like mere "awareness" (without leading a revolution or whatever lol) seems to have little meaning.

Which is again one of the main themes of the show - to give voice also to those who lost and as such do not have the "but we won, we were happy, we lived" defence always acting for them. Bah, even controversies or discussions surrounding them. They are losers, not even worthy to talk about, and put on sidelines. We often discuss what motivated the "big figures" who got to become rulers, even if we do not approve of their actions or criticize them. Rarely we talk about "losers". Which is what Mustafa's letter stressed - people will deem me as traitor, while your name will be written in golden letters because of all your victories. This alone will make your name remembered. And even considering that Mustafa was lucky in that people generally did not believe him to be a traitor, with Bayezid it was much harder because yeah he did openly rebel and it's not something we can deny. But some jump to conclusions like 'he was insolent and one day decided to rebel for no reason' (yes, I've seen such takes) is very simplistic. I do not even approve of a lot of his actions there since while I get his anger at Suly and Selim I hate how he involves plenty of soldiers in a fight without a chance to succeed as long as Suly ass lives, but damn takes like above truly erase what brought him to such point. Because he was the prince with bigger support at that time. He could have waited for his father to die soon and easily taken the throne. /And historically - yes if you actually dig up sources, he didn't wake up and decide to attack innocent cookie pacifist Selim lol/. Show! Bayezid telling Defne that he would be labelled as a "rebellious prince" for future generations with obvious evidence backing it up means a lot because even though he IS one, there is so much more to this story and what bought him to this point, starting from his father's attitude to him since he was a kid.

And damn I do need to stress the need for the critical approach to SOW (which does not preclude stanning the characters/getting interested in historical figures ofc)? Maybe not here, but I still see TikTok shit on “The big 5” introducing feminism to Ottoman harem. There is no revolution we can talk of in any case, but truly, where is feminism involved in Haseki institution? It only privileges one woman over others. The others are still required to serve them, which is why we had the Hürrem/Gülnihal and Nurbanu/Valeria stories. And what it ties with what Sol says once Hürrem tries to kill Gülnihal - her parents' ghosts appearing to tell her It's not revenge. It's not what you promised us. Meanwhile, the men are still in power, with a person like Suleiman having unlimited agency. More.. the man selects the woman he gives those privileges too. And even if he grants her freedom (if HE pleases so), it has little actual effect because we all know she is still forbidden to leave him and would have lost her kids anyway if she had done so. Thus said, the moment when show Hürrem slams the door to Sulyass' stupid face is one of my fave Surrem moments without a doubt and one of fave H moments in general ahsmshs. / BTW One day I will finally talk how Westerners focus more on say legal marriage when it that system having multiple sons was more ground-breaking because even free brides from noble families who did not have children had little power and agency. /

There is plenty of irony involved, just as Mahi finally freeing herself from attachment to Suly once he rejects her freedom to which he is entitled by the System. Bah, only he has the power to do so regarding his women. It's all only at his own discretion.

It is precisely what I also mean by "taboo-breaking" and the questioning Mahi does of Suleiman and the way he (as Sultanate) operates. In that world mere questioning could break the taboo. We do not know what future lay ahead for anyone, but damn what he kept doing was neither just nor wise according to the very norms of the times themselves. Yes, Mustafa was the most promising and fitting candidate for the throne and he did not betray his father, so Suleiman removing him from "open succession" was not even why this method of succession had been established in the first place and demanded from princes assembling their own support, also ensuring that he would be easily accepted to prevent discord and rebellions. Mustafa did it too well, the horror. And that him wanting to do something (also as he himself stated, since he got privilege of being the prince and be able to rule, he should not sit idly, but use it for good purpose and the people) only brought him troubles because of Suly ass own ego only shows again the problems with this system and being centered on one person so much. Suleiman violated a lot for his own agenda, centered around himself, not the future of the state. This is what Mahi is criticizing and stating it to his face when he tried to paint his son as a traitor to present himself as just and acting for the state IS taboo-breaking in itself. Asking the question instead of dismissing it all as "fate", as Mihrimah tried.

Mahidevran tries to awake Mihri, who while rich and "still in power play", is very similar to her in many ways (also with the one big sin that has weighted on them silently). They all lost. Even Selim. Getting Mihri's brother (Hürrem's son) on the throne did not mean triumph and happiness for her. Heck, even Selim is a walking wreck. It's not even about sides because SS truly managed to destroy everyone's lives, not only one side's, so in the end it's not even favoritism. All for him to go with his beautiful words, a show-off victory, and his beloved throne (while saying something else in his monologue). Mahi telling Mihri to stop holding her father blameless IS the moment making someone else's eyes open and maybe do not let actively go for something that will not help anyone out at this point, like causing discord between Selim and his son. These are small things that are important for the theme and how mental freedom is also of value. Same with awareness. Nobody expects revolution or claims something. And we are at a particular point when Mahi already lost Mustafa and says it already in the context with him gone. She won't resurrect him with her words ofc LOL. And Mahi truly didn't have to do this, just take popcorn and look at Hürrem's kids & other descendants fighting even more.

You can precisely see when SS decides how to dispose of Bayezid when Mihri says she will never forgive him and will be dead to him if he executes her brother. The lightbulb over his head in this moment lol. So her continuing to hold him blameless, while putting everything on Selim and Nurbanu is buying his shit and rules of the Sultanate. Mihri might have power, so she can stir things up in attempt to still "win", but.. they all lost. Her acceptance of it and stating it out loud before leaving Topkapi again has meaning. One might continue to have power and live in palace (unlike Mahi), but they all lost anyway. Mere meddling that can cause only chaos to still try to win is meaningless and can ony be harmful. As such, Mahi's words can have at least some impact.

Mahi and fate as Sol's post with Plami's commentary also has this delicious tidbit with mirror - most likely Hürrem would have never ceased to hunt down Mustafa after Mehmed's death because she had decided on eliminating him long before that and kept carrying out the plan via concrete & repeated actions. However, Mahi still questions herself on that because she can never know. And even if it changed nothing, it still tormented her and polluted her conscience. Because culpability is still there, regardless of "system" and circumstances" and whether it has any tangible effect or not. Same with Selim still being culpable even though SS wanted Bayezid executed. He still chose to do so anyway. Bah, he is actually very self-conscious and states clearly that he won because unlike the others he was able to kill his brother.

Similarly, Mustafa, Cihangir, and Bayezid also made their choices. Mustafa could have axed Suleiman and it would have been hard to blame him for this in the situation it boilt down to. Actually, he was the one with biggest support at that moment, so rules of the Sultanate definitely allowed him to dispose of an aging ruler who began making a multitude of mistakes. He had the biggest power at his disposal if he wanted to. Moreover, Musti also chose to invite the member of the opposition faction because she was his sister, despite said sister openly declaring her standing on the opposite side and speaking to him "with her mother's words" last time they met. Once more, instead of rules of Sultanate and how the system expected him to act, he chose familial bonds.

Then again, Bayezid did have Selim on his knees in front of him and chose not to kill Selim, despite Selim never promising him any change or begging for mercy.

They both died, but they also could have chosen differently and compromised their conscience and values in the process.

Yet the opposite choice to adhere to the Darwinist rules and get the throne at any cost is not something mechanic that promises happiness or safety, either. Actually, it can make you painfully blind. We see Hürrem deciding blood will be spilled only of her enemies once she learns her son is going to end up on the throne. When she meets with the witch after Mustafa is dead and the throne for one of her sons IS a certain thing.. it's not what she wanted to hear, starting from her own imminent demise from natural causes. Same with her trust in the "human face" of the Sultanate aka Suly ass:

The "right, sultana?" is an ironic call-back to the beginning of the episode when she uses same words about Suly's power to exclude herself from the matter of Mustafa's death.

Also let us note the use of the word "destiny"😱 .

Also, Hürrem did not come back to ponder her preceding conversation with the witch earlier, as she had another proof of herself not interpreting it correctly - when she assumed Nazenin's baby would be the one the witch predicated as the Sultan. Nurbanu was after all pregnant with Murad at the same time.. so no, the witch was not mistaken, Hürrem was simply so caught up in her own vision of how it would go (also with Baye taking the throne) or assumed the witch to be mistaken, so she didn't notice it was about her grandson.

Another interesting thing is that the witch also predicts Mihrimah's future and that while her physical illness will pass soon, the spiritual pain will soon start and persist.

Because even if we "win" in that we survive, it does not need to bring happiness with it. At all.

It doesn't work like this either (Mihri talks about sacrifing Musti and Cih), while we are at it. There are no simple mechanisms like that! And how Mihri adopts her mother stance and calls her out that only one of her sons can survive according to the Darwinist rules (which is also what Rüstem advocates in any circumstances, only for him there is no support for Bayezid really... any can go) is just irony at its finest, and it stems also from her feeling of guilt - I already tainted my conscience and went again familial bonds, so let it at least mean victory for my favourite brother. She is now quick to accept one of them will die, she just wants to ensure it's not Bayezid.

Another of Hürrem's children that do adopt her "survival no matter the cost" agenda (and no, it's hard going for that to "pacifism" agenda shortly after getting what you wanted), and to a bigger extent, is Selim obviously.. Selim states to Bayezid that he will live because he is capable of killing his brother for his own survival. But we know what sort of life this is (and that he won't live long from history). He might later quote his mother to Mihrimah and convince himself that since nobody is innocent under this dome, so only the deserving win, but outside that, he does call himself a "brother killer" and does consider it a burden. /And Selim being his mother's son is another fascinating topic, since he was like.. her least fave and yet he is the one most alike her and who most absorbed her views and agenda.. to later emerge as sort-of third unexpected faction /.

Neither Mihrimah nor Selim ever found peace after adhering to the System's rules of fratricide. Bah, they cannot even be a family again as the only surviving members.. instead they openly accuse each other of being brother killers. Judging by history, they will eventually learn to co-operate, but nothing will be the same ever again. There is no moral victory in it for sure. Selim does not claim it any point. Actually, he is the one to point out that: We all lost. Innocence died and nothing will be as before. We can accuse Selim of many things, but he is a pretty self-conscious character indeed.

The others might be dead, but they did adhere to their principles and values due to choice.

The power of reflection or questioning is also tied to to the concept of choice as what makes us a human. MC never promises us happy ending (how it could, we all know the ending point), but the mere presentation of choice, of humans trying to create something positive, like Mustafa, Bayezid, and Cihangir deciding not to fight against each other as expected, is meaningful.

Instead we got nobody truly winning or benefitting from what happened LBR. It cannot get worse than that, really.

The whole issue again reflects what I said earlier in that post on how Erdogan historical propaganda works. It's not all sunshine and rainbows, but there is no questioning at all. Instead we have normalization of violence and presenting it as something necessary, and that there is no choice or alternative to what happened. The sultan killed his brothers, but he had to. It was necessary, it was automatic. There is even no person behind it, but a robot always doing the right (even if brutal) choice because "it was like that".

And to some up the great ironies of life, we can remember that Mahi who lost it all... survived them all, so she won the Darwinist game in the end despite being rejected by System multiple times:

[nmarfo]

Opening Night Live kinda sucked

I'm back with one of these cause why the fuck not. Gamescom is another big show that Geoff Keighly hosts, where there's usually some cool stuff, but MAN. all of the games besides the ones I'm about to mention here didn't look appealing to me.

Also, I'll just start off with this. Geoff, you have got to get better security, my friend. How has a dude twice now got on stage and said something? Granted they were both harmless, but pattern recognition tells me something bad might happen soon.

Anyways, let's start off with the 1st hype thing, which was Tekken 8!

Once again, I don't play fighting games, but honestly, this and Street Fighter 6 are VERY much tempting me too. They showed off a new mode called Arcade Quest, which seems to be making up for the idea that Tekken 8 is not being put in arcades, and honestly it looks great. That being said, we also have 32 character roster and 6 more were revealed. all of whom are returning. Yoshimitsu, Steve Fox, Sergei Dragonov, Leo, Shaheen and Kuma, who seems to take up some of Heihachi's move set. Honestly, I still think young Heihachi will at least be some form of DLC, cause with canon in that case, who gives a shit?

Honestly, given that so many of these characters are from Tekken 5 and 6, and Leroy Smith is coming back, I'm surprised they didn't include Lidia Sobieska, given how popular she seemed to be. Also still no Alisa, which kinda sucks up hey, I can have hope.

Image Credit: @kittymiya (Commishion her if you can, her art is amazing)

Onward to Mortal Kombat 1, where we got 2 new characters announced, the returning Sindel and Shao Kahn, or in this case General Shao, as well as Kameo's for Motaro from MK3, and Shujinko, from Mortal Kombat Deception/Unchained.

They did also announce a board game mode, which looks cool, but Mortal Kombat 1 feels like it might be a bit lacklustre, especially given that Tekken 8 and Street Fighter 6 are really packed with a bunch of game modes outside of the story mode. We'll see if they manage to pull it off, and I am looking forward to the story, but IDK I just feel like there might be not a lot there.

Up next, anime in GranBlue Fantasy Relink. I honestly don't have much to say on this other than it looks cool, and I'll probably pick it up when I get the chance, cause I know nothing about GranBlue.

The other thing that I saw that I might be interested in was Wukong, which looks very cool! I might play it when it comes out, cause action games are fun.

Anyways, on to the last thing, Hoyoverse showed up with a bunch of stuff, all of which I'm going to talk about.

First up, Genshin showed up with a trailer to promote the current update. I've finished the story that is currently in the game, and it's honestly really good, and I'll be writing about it for my main site soon! The big thing here though is that they announced a consort tour, which is awesome! I'm hoping to attend the one in London if I have enough money.

Up next, they showed a trailer for Fu Xuan in Honkai Star Rail. I don't really have anything to say here, but I'm Star Rail still looks very cool!

The big thing I want to talk about personally is Zenless Zone Zero, which got another trailer to show off things they have been working on over the past year.

They showed off 3 new areas they are working on adding to the game, a new hangout sorta mechanic where you're protag can hang out with different characters, as well as minigames and new mechanics, such as an offence and defence assist. I've been a big fan of Hoyo's games since Genshin really showed off what they can do, and I personally can't wait to see where this takes them.

But yea. that's everything. Honestly, this is the 1st time in a while it feels like one of these shows by Geoff Keighley has not been worth it, which I guess is a good thing, but hopefully, some more cool stuff shows up at TGS, where it's gonna be pretty hard to disappoint me I think.

I'll probably show some work works in progress and also maybe talk about Bandai Namco later this week(cause where the fuck did all the anime properties go), but for now, have a good rest of your day. Bye!!

[gible-love-nibles-archive]

Dust on an Old Machine (Pt. 2)

Oh boy, I had a lot of fun writing this part. Do I think it's OOC? Yeah, a little. But I can explain my thought process in another post.

Word Count: 777

Tag List: @crickiss @caracello @librarian-lover @halsdaisy @potionomic [If you want to be added/removed from the taglist, click here!]

Also this one has actual spoilers for The G.reat A.ce A.ttorney: R.esolve + TW for talk of death

Eurydice couldn't sleep that night. Maybe it was because she voted to sleep on the couch in the main room, but it was sufficiently comfortable. No, her mind was too busy, racing too fast. After the news, how could she not be?

…How long had it been? Ten years since she was at the University of London. Ten years since she’d seen him in the flesh. One year since she last heard from him. And now he’s crashed back into her life, by being the perpetrator of an elaborate magic trick to send a man to his grave (if Ryunosuke’s proposals were correct).

What on earth had happened to the Enoch Drebber she knew?

Lying in bed wasn’t going to answer anything, she decided. So she slipped out of the house… and into the night.

…

No one was awake at this point. You'd have to be a similar kind of restless, or perhaps be some kind of criminal. Thankfully, it seemed like the excitement of the Great Exhibition tired out most everyone in London.

Eurydice walked down the streets with purpose, with a goal in mind. Or, at least she hoped.

After Enoch was forced to leave school, the last thing they promised to each other face-to-face was that they would keep in touch by writing letters. And it was fulfilled for a number of years. Though it wasn’t as simple as it initially sounded.

His letters came to Eurydice simply enough through the postal service. It was her sending to Enoch that posed a problem.

Mr. Drebber was frequently on the move in London, and he never stayed in the same spot for long. From his job opportunities, he explained in one letter. He supposedly had a main workshop, but he never gave her the address. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her; it was that his clients often wanted strict confidentiality.

The solution?

In his letters to her, he’d put down an address (often somewhere secluded) and instructions at the bottom on where to leave her reply. He was very meticulous about it. It seemed to work, as she would get a reply from him not long after.

…

After a long time walking, Eurydice slipped down an inconspicuous alleyway. The last address Enoch told her to send him a reply.

She was about to sit down on an empty fruit crate—her feet were killing her— when she noticed an envelope barely sticking out from a space in the wood.

She hadn't seen one of these in a year. It was no coincidence one would show up tonight, of all nights.

She picked it up and opened it. Inside, just as she hoped, was an extremely neatly written letter in black ink.

“Eurydice—

I know you have associations with that Eastern lawyer: the one who has taken up defence of one Albert Harebrayne. I have no doubt you were there at the trial and heard him announce me as the engineer who built his machine.

I must implore you: do not involve yourself anymore with this matter. I have lost a great multitude of things over my life. You are one of the few things I haven't lost despite everything.

I think I can comprehend your feelings on the matter, but please: I will explain everything once the cogs of this operation have stopped turning and the dust settles. We might just be able to settle into a new normal. We could see each other again... after all these years.

I just ask you to play your part: stay silent and passive. Do not tell anyone of your relationship to me, and do not contribute any more than you already have. I don't say this to be cruel to you; I say this to protect you.

Again, I will explain everything to you once this is over. Until then,

E. Drebber"

It was just like him to be two steps ahead: already knowing about Ryunosuke and the entire trial. But… he was trying to protect her? That put a sinking feeling in her stomach.

“He must be the mastermind behind the accident then,” she thought grimly. But why? Drebber was many things, but he was no wanton murderer. He was too smart, too calculating. No, if he were to kill… he would have a very good reason, at least in his mind.

There were too many unanswered questions. Not just from the past few days, but from all the time they’ve spent corresponding. And she would get to the bottom of it… one way or another.

Eurydice sighed deeply and tucked the note into her pocket. "I'm sorry, old friend... but I'm afraid that's just not possible."

[dcydrecmings]

Nodding slowly when he mentioned being glad about actually getting to know each other, she tried to push down the part of her that was apprehensive about the situation. she'd always been a little too in love, with the idea of love - and wilfully looked past red flags in people she was interested in, in order to get some fairytale. simply telling herself it was physical and nothing else with rhett had been a defence mechanism to stop herself being hurt once more, but maybe this time it wouldn't lead to disaster to let somebody in. "Oh I don't know, my plans this afternoon can't be pushed back. Have you ever dealt with an upset seven year old because Cinderella showed up late? Or worse... Dealt with their incredibly pissed off mother?" Scrunching her face slightly in jest, skipping over the main issue. Whenever something semi-awkward came up, her method of dealing with it, was sweeping it under the rug. "I'd think different of you, if you were one of those strange people who ate them plain, but I can accept syrup as a topping. Though I will say, berries and chocolate are the superior toppings, but I guess we can't all have taste."

Rhett is more than glad that the two seemed to be able to move away from things being awkward and in a playful direction. The male doesn't even try to hide his flirtatious side. In his mind it is what got Lexi's attention to begin with other than the fact that he is attractive. " I might add that I do hope that last night wasn't the last time that it will happen. " Not even bothering to smile his smirk of amusement. " I am glad that we're on the same page about wanting to get to know one another on more than just a physical level. " Rhett is more than sure that the blonde has got the hint that he is definitely interested in her for more than what has been going on between the two in the bedroom. " You're more adorable than I thought you were moments ago with your ramblings. I am sure if this morning goes smoothly like I am confident that it will. I don't think that you're going to be worried about rushing away. " At least that his what Rhett is hoping for. He wasn't ever been a fan of their short mornings together. " Would you think different of me if I told you I was just one of those basic guys that just stick to the usual syrup? However i am totally down for trying something you'd suggest. "

[boldlyvoid]

Intro to Criminal Minds: Why They Did It

Criminal Minds x MINDHUNTER AU

Spencer Reid x Margaret Carr (OC)

Part 1: Ed Kemper.

Summary: Spencer is teaching a 7-week seminar on the most interesting criminal cases, explaining their actions to understand why they took place. Only, not everyone in the audience is a student.

warnings: graphic details of a real rape and murder case, like every trigger in the book, applies to this fic so read with caution (if you watch either show you're used to it, however), it's all real and did actually happen and I don't support any of it. strangers to lovers, mutual pining, flirting, fluff, eventual smut, idiots in love, OC is Wendy Carr's daughter, her bio father is Jason Gideon

word count: 3.9K

He'd be lying if he said he wasn't having fun teaching.

He started with guest speaking, moving to special seminars a few times a year. But he wanted something more, settling for a 7-week criminal justice elective of his choosing.

Intro to Criminal Minds: why they did it. Giving Spencer an excuse to share the most intimate facts about serial offenders in a setting where no one could tell him to shut up.

14 students total signed up for the two-hour Seminar, taking place every Thursday at 11 am from September until Halloween. Over the 7 weeks, he would explain the fascinating insights of the most successful killers in the United States. Only asking that his students write about a prolific crime they find interesting by the end of term, for their full grade.

All he wanted was to read about obscure killers from around the world, from the perspective of aspiring profilers.

The first Thursday, he came prepared with his coffee a half hour before the class. He wanted to write the main points on the whiteboard in advance, nice and neatly.

To his surprise, a student was already there waiting for him. "Oh, hello,” he smiled softly.

She was sitting with a book in her hands, she pushed her glasses up her nose to look at him as he walked in. She was older than his typical student, around 35. Probably finishing up a degree or adding something to what she already had.

"Hi," she smiled at him. “Sorry, I’m early, I was visiting my mom at Quantico earlier.” She explained. "I'm not a teacher's pet or anything. Promise, I’m not even a student.”

It made him laugh slightly, correcting him like she read his mind. "It's okay, I'm Doctor Reid," he introduced himself softly.

“Margaret Carr, Peggy is also fine.”

"Pleasure to meet you," he said quickly before focusing his attention on the whiteboard.

He could feel her eyes on him the whole time he wrote, not wanting to turn around and catch her. "That's so interesting," he heard her mumble under her breath.

"Hmm?" He turned around.

"It's just that, everyday occurrences that never phase the regular person somehow cause psychopaths to kill," she read the board back to him.

"I was reading a study a while back about how psycho killers medulla oblongata is approximately 19% smaller than the average human’s. Based on the way they're nurtured as children affects if they grow up to kill. The ones that don't often end up in law enforcement and other positions of power where their psychopathic tendencies can come to play."

He was taken aback for a moment. He had never experienced a student who was like him before. Someone who just pulled facts into conversations like it was nothing.

"I read that as well," he smiled. "It is fascinating. The smallest amount of bullying and abuse from a mother or disappearance of a father figure can set them off."

"Or, on the other hand, there are people like Ted Bundy," she added. "He was well-loved and taken care of, but it went to his head. His god complex and affinity for lying led him to be incredibly charismatic and enabled his killing."

"You're very educated on this already; are you just interested in hearing me speak today?" He asked, not wanting her to leave, finding it interesting that she was there.

"Oh," she blushed. "I was going to talk to you more about it after the seminar actually."

“Okay, I’ll be waiting for you,” he felt a little giddy at the prospect.

"Thanks," she laughed. "Seriously though, I'm a big fan of your teaching style, I saw a few of your classes when my dad was teaching at the academy in 2005. It's a lot easier to remember facts if the lecturer genuinely loves what they're talking about."

"You're going to like this Seminar then. It’s basically just a way for me to get paid while unloading all the random facts I have,” he warned her with a smile.

"I know." She smiled back at him.

The rest of his students filed in slowly. By 11 am, 14 faces were staring back at him.

"Hello," he waved awkwardly. "I'm dr. Spencer Reid. For the last 12 years, I've worked with the FBI's Behavioural Analysis Unit. Catching serial offenders across the country."

He took a deep breath, letting the nerves find their way out of him. "I've been asked time and time again who my favourite serial killer is, which is a peculiar way to phrase the question. It feels morally wrong to have a favourite in the way people do with baseball players.

"I am, however, fascinated with several serial offenders' reasoning and explanation for why they did what they did. Every single killer is different, but it all comes back to 1 thing. Do you know what that is?"

They all shook their heads. “What is your relationship with your parents like?" He asked. 

Everyone in the room reacted; some students sighed, some rolled their eyes as they recalled their parents and childhoods to memory.

"When a person decides to kill, it's often never in the moment. It's in childhood. The majority of serial offender's stories start the same; their mother didn't love them, their father left. Someone at home abused them or put them down repeatedly."

"Thus, causing a hatred so primal to bubble. No matter how hard they try and fight it, the bubble always bursts. They go from fantasizing to killing in retaliation for their abuse, taking the anger out in stages."

He referred to the board. "Every killer has a stressor and a trigger—something that causes the urge to bubble and the event that causes the bubble to rupture.”

"Edmund Kemper is a fascinating example of this. He grew up with a family for the first few years of his life before his father fully abandoned them. His mother handled the situation by turning her anger onto her son; it was his fault his father left, he looked just like him, Ed was just another useless man who would never amount to anything," he emphasized the words. Hoping the class sees the effects words have on children.

"He started by cutting up dolls, stealing his sister's barbies and cutting their heads off. In his mind, he was getting out his anger and hatred for how his mother saw him. She hated men, causing him to mature with a warped idea of what women are truly like."

"His attraction to killing worsened his mother's hatred; she could tell something was wrong with him, that he didn't react to everyday situations the way he should. By the time he was ten, she was locking him in the basement for days on end, telling him he was a monster and her biggest regret."

"The change in her rage amplified his own. He hated hearing her speak. He hated the way she walked around, thinking she was better than him. That just because she was a mother and a working woman, she deserved respect and submissive’s. All he could see was a woman with a big head who needed to be humbled. This is the moment when the psychotic side of his brain blended his hatred of his mother with how good it felt to kill."

"Is that why he, you know?" Peggy cut in, running her finger along her neck as she pretended to cut her head off.

He pressed his lips together in an awkward smile, nodding. "His signature, as it's called, was decapitation. But more specifically necrophiling the severed head of his victims."

The whole class let out a disgusted noise, Peggy and Spencer making eye contact while they shrugged, it wasn't news to them.

"At age ten, he moved from barbies to cats and dogs, never leaving them around for his mother to see. While he hated her, he was also absolutely terrified of her. Breading a special type of killer. When you think of school shooters or preferential predators, what do they have in common?" He asked.

He pointed at a student in the back. "They have a specific type of victim they’re after?"

"Exactly. Most serial offenders want to go after the cause of their pain or attraction. However, Ed wasn't able to kill the source of his rage for a long time. His mother mentally abused him so intensely that he believed she was in control of him and that her opinion of him mattered. He saw her as his God, he loved her, but he also knew that he disappointed her.

"He ran away soon after to find his father. Travelling to California, only to be told he was unwanted there as well. It wasn't just his mother that his father was escaping; it was the fundamental aspect of family that he didn't want. Ed defiantly didn't want to go back to his mother after that, so he moved in with his paternal grandparents."

He kept catching the looks on Peggy's face. She knew the story already, waiting patiently to hear the words he chose to make the horrific acts seem a little more conversational.

"His grandmother was exactly like his mother. If I had to guess, his father most likely had a distaste for his own mother and thus divorced Ed's mom. Only he never grew up to be a killer, just an absent father—his absence doing to Ed what never happened to him."

"Ed killed his grandparents when he was 15. Telling the police and his therapists that they had beaten him constantly, they refused to feed him and called him names. He said he snapped from the trauma; it was self-defence."

Peggy laughed to herself, making him smile softly. "Sending him to a mental hospital instead of a juvenile facility was the worst thing they could've done for him," Spencer added.

"Why?" A student asked.

"Ed is a psychopath." He reminded them. "He doesn't feel empathy the way we do. You can admit that you feel bad for him, yes? If you understand why he killed people, it doesn't make you sick, like him, it makes you human. You see a hurt person hurting others; Ed Kemper sees himself as a new sort of God, choosing who dies, how and when."

"He was brilliant, having the exact IQ as I do," just a humblebrag, "the staff trusted him. He looked like an innocent boy, smart enough to take matters into his own hands for the betterment of his life. They gave him computer privileges, they let him work the front desk and file patient information. Giving him all the resources to learn about who he was inside and how to get away with it perfectly."

"Damn," another kid added. "When did he get out?"

"At 21.” He answered the student quickly. “Ed was interviewed by my mentor Jason Gideon, in the 70s. Where he explained that being locked up during his sexual prime, as well as the access to information, is what truly set him off more than his mother.

"He moved back in with her and his sister when he came out of the institution, immediately returning to the constant ridicule. He went from being told all the time that he was a smart and charming young man, capable of rehabilitation to a useless, no-good son, who would have been better off collecting in a condom or running down her leg."

The whole class laughed, shocked at his repetition of Ed's mother's words.

"He got his licence when he was released. And remember, this was prime time for hitchhiking in California; everyone and their mother walked the roads with a thumb in the air. It was the birth of free love and recreational marijuana usage. It was also the best hunting ground for a learning serial killer."

"He was able to pick women up, but like I said, missing his sexual prime while in an institution made him almost impotent. He didn't know how to speak to women; he had to create a fantasy in his mind every time, one that involved killing, before he could look at a woman."

"How did he get them in his car then?" A voice asked from the back.

"He was 6'9, 300lbs; he looked like a big teddy bear. And his mother was the local college administrative assistant, so the whole town knew him anyway. If Ed offered to give them a ride, it wouldn't be that bad, right?" Peggy turned around to face the class as she explained for Spencer, who just shook his head.

"He only wanted to rape the victims, originally," Spencer added. "But he couldn't. There was no release of the tension. The bubble that had been growing inside him was at its breaking point; he needed to just do it. Get it over with and move on."

"He killed 6 women in succession after that. Gaining the name "The Co-Ed Killer," well before anyone even suspected Ed Kemper," Spencer took a sip of coffee, feeling his throat start to dry as they reached the insane part.

"He was overly friendly with the cops; he wanted to get his record expunged and join the force.” Spencer finally continued. “Being told, "don't worry about your record, worry about your weight.""

"Most killers enjoy wearing a uniform for the power and talking to the police about their cases, in the hopes of gauging how smart they really are—taking pride in the fact that they are getting away with it for so long."

"He watched all the cop shows, and he read all the books. He knew that in order to get away with it, he had to do it where no one could trace it back to him. He knew he had to keep his cool and avoid looking obsessed with the case, but just curious enough to gain insight into how they thought he was doing it. It went on for years, and they had absolutely zero leads, finding headless bodies every few months before they finally received a call." He left them hanging, walking over to his sheet of paper and pretending to read it while they anticipated the catch.

"Ed always knew that he wanted to kill his mother. He just never knew when,” Spencer teased the story along. Noticing as the students fidgeted in their seats as they wondered what happened next.

“In his interview with Gideon, Ed said that he knew she would die 7 days before he killed her. He walked into her room that night to find her reading, with the audacity to ask if he wanted to come in and chat all night. Teasing him for the way he rambled to her. It was the last time she ever did that."

"It's hard to imagine his signature with the fact his second last victim was his mother," Peggy added, cringing at the thought.

"Wait," another student interjected. "Who was his last kill then if he only really wanted to kill her?"

"Remember how I said he lacked empathy?" Spencer asked. "He loved his mother in the same way a prisoner can end up loving their captor."

Peggy nods at the comparison, looking like she's never thought of it that way before, then smiling at him.

"You grow a bond through the trauma and when the only thing you've ever known is violence and hate, you don't know what to do when that's gone, it's hard to cope."

"He said he killed his mother so that she never had to know what he did. She'd never have to sit at his court hearings or be able to tell the media that she always knew he was a killer."

"His last kill was his mother's best friend," He finally answered the question.

"He didn't want his mother to be even more disappointed in him, but he also didn't want his mother's best friend to find her like that and be upset. So the obvious answer to him was to kill her too."

"What the fuck?" He heard a couple of kids say under their breath.

"Yeah," he agreed with an almost chuckle. "This is what I mean by their answers are fascinating. It makes so much sense to them; clearly, if I kill my mother, her friend will be upset, so the best answer would be to put her out of her misery as well. He sees them as objects, like a matching set. One would lose value without the other."

Everyone was silent then. The students took in all the information they had just received, staring up at him with a look of disgust mixed with wonder.

"Any questions?"

Peggy raised her hand for a change; he pointed towards her in approval. "You missed the part where he specifically took the heads from the three women before his mother and brought them back home with him. He buried them in the yard outside her bedroom window, making sure they were always looking up to her."

Spencer was amazed that she knew the details. "Yes, I guess I did."

"I always found that part particularly interesting in this case," Peggy added. "Her opinion mattered so much to him. He knew how much she loved her co-ed's and how they looked up to her so much. They'd be exactly like her. He felt trapped in a town of women who were exactly like his nightmare, and his response was to make them physically look up to her for the rest of her life."

"Exactly." Spencer smiled. "understanding how he sees the situation and how the events played out in his mind is the key in figuring out who he is."

"If you were on the case in '72 when the first victims were discovered, how would you have handled it, Dr. Reid?" A male student in the back asked in the silence between answers, taking his shot before Peggy and Spencer went any further in their discussion.

“That's a hard thing to answer, connecting evidence back then was a lot harder than it is today, if it wasn’t for men like Ed there wouldn’t really be this many answers,” Spencer said honestly.

Another student put her hand up, “what’s the worst thing he did in your opinion?”

That racked his brain, there was a handful of horrific things he did that were particularly horrific, “probably his mother's entire murder.”

“What did he do?”

Before Spencer could answer he saw Peggy open her mouth and start explaining. “He not only cut off her head and fucked her neck, but he also took her vocal cords out and shoved them down the garbage disposal. And before he called the cops, he cleaned everything up and made her look presentable because he said his mother wouldn’t want guests to see the mess.”

The class all cringed, sinking into their seats with disgust. But that didn’t stop Peggy from explaining it all further.

“He used to go to a bar all the cops went to and he would talk about his case. They would always one-up themselves and say they were close which gave him this false idea that they were on his tail and they’d find his mother soon. But when they didn’t, he called it in from a payphone and said he’d come over and explain it all. And boy did he ever, the cops said he wouldn’t shut up. And then when they put him in the cop car finally, a woman walked past him and he threw up.”

Spencer watched her with awe, the way she could call information to memory like that was beautiful. He listened to her like he’s never heard a fact before, she was so intriguing.

“Thank you for the detail,” he teased her lightly. “Sometimes I get so caught up that the really gross parts get swept aside.”

The class smiled at him, he had gained their trust and attention within only 1 hour of class.

“I know you said you don’t have a favourite,” another student asked from the back. “I agree it’s weird, but who is the one you gravitate towards the most?”

“I’ve met hundreds of serial killers, I’ve read about thousands,” he explained. “I think Ed Kemper is the one I gravitate the most around because he was so willing and open to explaining why he is the way he is. Going as far as to say that the only way they could keep women safe is to give him a lobotomy. He didn’t believe there was any correcting to be done, only removal of the evil within him.”

He heard slight mumbles as everyone took in what he said. “Does anyone here have a killer or a case that interested them in learning more, or just introduced you to the chase of justice?”

Peggy put her hand up, “I personally think BTK is the scariest, most tactical, and just downright evil man to ever exist. He scares me to no end but he’s so interesting to learn about.”

“Ahh,” Spencer agreed. “Too bad you won't be here for week 3. But with that I think I’ll end the class, next week we’ll be discussing the difference between Ted Bundy and Richard Speck.” He nodded lightly, watching the majority of them close their books and had on out.

“I really enjoyed the class,” she said softly. Holding her purse in one hand, a collection of files in the other.

Spencer turned to look at her then, smiling right back. “It was a pleasure to teach alongside you.”

“What do you mean?” She teased, “it’s not like my mom and dad were the ones who did all the interviews."

“Carr,” he repeats her last name. The gears turning in his mind as he brings all the information forth.

“Your mother is Wendy Carr, she was recruited after the BTK case with Bill Tench, she’s who was behind that study you mentioned.”

“I know,” she smiled.

“Who’s your father?”

“Guess,” she looked at him with an unimpressed look on her face, pushing her glasses up slightly.

“You’re kidding? Gideon never said he had a daughter let alone a,” he stops himself before he can embarrass himself any further.

She smiled at the implication of his words, “but he’s told me all about you Dr. Reid, that’s why I'm here.”

“You need help with a case and I’m the only agent in Virginia currently,” he pressed his lips together awkwardly. Knowing it was too good to be true that she would have any interest in him in the slightest.

“No actually, I have a case I’ve been working on privately and I need some help. I asked my dad but he said you’d be able to help me the best. I agree,” she corrected him softly. “I wasn’t kidding when I said I was a big fan of yours. When I would sit in and watch his lectures, before he knew I was his kid, you would always step in at the best parts, adding the smallest details to the story that the average person would forget. It’s magnificent.”

He laughed slightly, tugging at his collar as she complimented him. “Thank you, you’re quite magnificent as well,” he replied with a blush and a smile

She didn’t look like Gideon, probably because she smiled so much. Like sunshine on legs, she beamed, all but blinding him with her smile as she stared at him, “do you want to get lunch and go over this case with me?”

“I’d love to.”

taglist: (message me if you want to be added or removed)

@shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria @spookyspence @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @samuel-de-champagne-problems @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @calm-and-doctor @blanchardsbk

[deliontower]

life on mars | two | b.b

summary: y/n tries to remember her past but the longer she stays with Steve and Bucky the less she wants to remember

warnings: swearing, fluff, some angst, mention drowning, slow burn and last of all don't trust strangers even if they are very handsome

word count: 1.6k

A/N: this took longer than it needed but i was actually being social

ill do another edit later just wanted to get this out!

MAIN MASTERLIST | REQUEST OPEN | SERIES MASTERLIST

Though neither Steve nor Bucky said anything, they were definitely having a silence conversation. You watched half amazed half confused how they were doing it.

“You can stay with me” Steve finally said puffing out his chest.

“I-“ you start but were cut off.

“Just until you sort things out, after all I own you one” he said.

You nodded “Okay, thank you”.

As the three of you walked away, Bucky elbowed you, looking at him brows crumpled. “My coat don’t want you freezing up Doll”.

You felt your face heat up with what you told your self was embarrassment, “Thank you”.

Slowing your paste to put in the coat you took a moment to look at your what new friends? Acquaintances?

“Oh and if you own her one for saving your ass then you own me at least 40, pal” Bucky laughed throwing his arm around Steve shoulder lovingly.

When you reached Steve flat, it was just two rooms put together. One was the kitchen and living room combined, a shared toilet was down the hall, a small bedroom at the back.

Bucky said his goodbyes promising to return in the morning with some dry clothes. You tried to give him his coat back, with a smile and shrug he waved it off.

An hour had past and all you had done was stare ahead into the fire you tried to remember anything. It was like you lost apart of yourself in the water. Shivering you pulled Bucky’s coat closer around you. “Here” Steve sat down on the floor next to you handing you’re a cup of coffee.

“Thanks” you smiled holding the cup in both hands , welcoming the warmth. “I need to get out of these clothes before I get sick”.

“You can sleep in my bed, I’ll take the sofa” Steve nodded to a room in the back.

“How about this, we take turns?” you paused smiling, “I’ll take the sofa tonight plus I like the fire”.

Steve happily agreed, wishing you good night shutting the door behind him. You listened to the sound of people settling in for the night in the other flats. You stripped down to your underwear, leaving the dress to dry over the fire gate.

Under the cover you thought about how risky you were being, trusting two men you had just met, what was even more worrying was that you couldn’t remember anything. You knew things, but the fine details were blurry, like you were looking at it through water.

Even with your worries sleep came easy. But in your dreams you were back in the water, you were fighting to get out, kicking as hard as you could. Muffled voice called out to you, unrecognizable but you heard the worry clear.

When you tried to answer them, water entered your lungs, you kept trying hoping it would work. The more you fought the more distance the voice came. Something was trying to keep you still, you try to hit it away but whatever it was grabbed hold of you wrist.

You woke to find Bucky looking down at you.

Seeing that you were awake he dropped your wrist. “I didn’t want you to hurt yourself”.

You carried on staring at him.

Bucky frowned worried. He walked from the back of the sofa and knelt by your side. “You good, Doll?”.

You blinked nodding rapidly. “Nightmare”. You shook yourself pulling yourself into a sitting position. “Did I hit you while I was fighting back?”.

He huffed smiling, “only a little but nothing I can’t handle”.

“You should remember what happened to the last man I hit” you smirked. The smirked fell from your face seeing your dress than disappear from this place. “Where did my dress go?”.

Bucky gasped silently remembering something pulling a large brown paper bag from behind the sofa. “Raided my sister’s and ma’s closets”, he dropped the bag on your lap.

“Did you ask them or am I aiding a thief?” you raised an eyebrow.

“well” he trailed off.

“If it comes down to it, I’ll hand you over, I’m far to pretty of jail” you laughed looking through the bag. Inside was different colour blouses, a few different skirts, and dresses. You looked up at him wide eyed, “you sure they won’t notice, this is a lot of stuff”.

“I have four sisters. This is surprisingly nothing. Sometimes might run a bit small”.

You lifted a yellow blouse from the bag and held it up against you, “I’m quite good with a needle actually, I could fix them” you lowed the blouse down meeting Bucky’s smiling at you.

As soon as you saw him, he looked away with an obvious shade of pink on the back of his neck. “you can get dressed in Steve’s room, he’s out”. He cleared his throat.

You walked across the room holding the brown bag, keeping the cover still wrapped around you. You had a quick look around the room when the door was shut, there was nothing out of the ordinary. A single bed, nightstand and photo lining the wall.

The oldest photo was a couple on their wedding day, his parents. Seeing it felt to personal too fast. You finished getting dress before leaving the room.

“I have a question” you started as you entered the main room again. Bucky looked up from his spot on the sofa. “What will you say to your family when they find out about me”.

He thought about it, “How will they find out?”.

You rolled your eyes, “A strange girl staying with your friend is going to bring up questions, so what will you tell them?”.

“What do you want me to tell them, doll?” he threw his head back smiling.

You shook your head at him. “you’re a tease”.

“I willing to put my money where my mouth is”.

You puckered your lips walking up to him. “Aww darling you wouldn’t know what to do if got the chance” you ran your finger down his cheek as you spoke. He turned a shade darker almost right away. “Might let you one day if you’re lucky”. You wink bating him away.

“Now whose the tease, doll”

-x-

Stood in front of the worktop you question why you had offered to cook. The bread you deemed easy was actually harder than anything you had done before. Working from memory had been your first mistake, you remembered someone telling you how to make the perfect bread but you obviously wasn’t as good.

“Did Steve say when he’d be back?” you asked Bucky.

“Wait he didn’t tell you? He was gone when I got here” Bucky head popped out from the hallway.

“I was asleep remember” you walked to the front door and lent against it, wiping dough down your skirt.

Bucky was knelt down fixing some floorboards, “Thought he told you then you went back to sleep”.

“Aren’t you worried?” question looking down the stairway and to the street below, “he could have gotta into another fight”.

You were shocked when he laughed. “probably”.

You held your forehead in your hand and sighed. “I don’t think I’d get used to this”.

You went back to the kitchen hoping to save dinner, “how’s things going in there?”, bucky called through.

Looking down at the messy dough on the worktop you laughed, “Let’s just say I’m no Sparkles”.

“Who?”

You bent back so you could look at him, “what?”.

“You said ‘I’m no Sparkles’ then I asked who that was”.

It came out before you thought about it, you kept your eyes on the ground trying to remember anything. “She was a friend, is a friend” you murmured. You lifted your head and met his gaze “she was my friend”.

“Do you remember anything else?” you swore you heard a hint a worry in his voice.

“nope” you grin. “How about we swap and you doing the cooking and I do the repairs”. You swayed your hips walking back to him, “come on James, what do you say?”.

Bucky swiped sweat from his brow, squinting at you. “would have to teach ya how to do it first” he tutted.

You got down on the floor next to him. “teach me”.

He studied you carefully before nodding. “be carefully not to hit your thumb”, he warned you. After watching him closely you took the hammer from him. Hesitating you doubled checked you had the right spot, you jumped when you felt Bucky’s hand on yours.

You made yourself keep your face down, the moment you felt his hand on yours heat spread across your face. His breath ran down your neck, raising the baby hairs. “I think I’ve got it from here” you muttered after the second nail.

He took a deep breath making your breath hard yourself.

“ehh what’s going on?”, both you and Bucky looked up to Steve who was stood watching at the top of the stairs.

You moved anyway from Bucky, dusting off your clothes standing up. “I was showing James how to fix the floor”.

Steve didn’t seemed convicted as he walked past you into the flat. “Dinner going well?” Steve laughed.

“so it turns out I’m not a good cook” you held up your hands in defence and laughed along. “The dough just kept sticking to the worktop”.

“You forgot to put flour on it” he pointed out.

You put your hand to your head sighing. “That’s what I was forgetting!”.

Steve smiled shaking his head at you, “I’ll sort it out”.

You smiled thanking him. If your memories were really gone, you wouldn’t mind staying here with Bucky and Steve for as long as they’d have you.

[ihassheepquake]

DC's Batwoman 3.11 "Broken Toys" has aired on the CW and I'm here to talk about it

We're not going to talk about how I'm later than normal.

I feel like it's been a while since we heard from Vesper Fairchild. Of course, she's talking about my least favourite bitch Jada Jet. But nice to see Mary back with the Bats for real!

I think I've said this before but I'm really not here for the whole Joker 2.0 plot. There are so many better villains to make a 2.0 of and be a better main villain.

Poor Mary is so clearly not doing good. Maybe she should go to therapy?

Can Sophie get a superhero I.D. please? Idk who but I want her to be a superhero and kick-ass alongside Ryan.

Marquis isn't even coming up with a good Joker plan.

I'm excited to see how Alice and Mary's dynamic continues and evolves now. They were so fun with Poison Mary but now that Mary is just Mary, that's going to change some stuff.

Ryan has come to fuck up Jada Jet, as she should. Jada is a problem and she needs to be dealt with.

I forgot that I kinda like this Zsasz. He's kinda fun. And feels pretty accurate.

Alice is scared of what the buzzer being fixed would mean for her. If it can fix Joker 2.0, who knows. Maybe it can "fix" Alice. Which I don't think would work for a variety of reasons, including the fact that Alice was driven mad under very different circumstances and as a defence mechanism. But I think it makes sense for Alice to be afraid of that after everything with Kate back in season 1.

Ryan probably could've done that whole Zsasz fight without revealing that she's Batwoman considering the whole thing with her being a trained and certified martial arts teacher, but sure.

I think Kiki, and now also Mary to a certain degree, represent a truth about healing and recovering that Alice doesn't want to accept.

Completely forgot that Luke and Sophie were breaking into Wayne. Really forgettable C plot I guess.

Yes Ryan, read that bitch to hell and back! Fuck Jada Jet, I hope she doesn't come back next season. This bitch pulling the whole "maybe I did the best thing for you by abandoning you" card. Fuck that.

So I really read this Kiki bitch wrong. I do think I'm correct about how Alice sees her, but this bitch is still quite crazy.

Marquis is way too fucking cocky with this whole "I've got all your friends and I'm gonna kill them" thing considering one of those people is a supervillain gang leader, one is a superhero, and another is ex-Military (who's probably the most capable of the entire Bat Team). Mary might not be those things but she's clearly shown to be competent in her own right. Two of those four are also with Batwoman at this exact moment in time. I don't know why he expected this to go well for him.

The question is, has the Lucius Fox AI been fucked with by Marquis already?

Alice wants to be Beth again?? Or at least doesn't want to be Alice anymore. At least I was correct that Alice thinks the buzzer could fix her the way it might be able to fix Marquis, though I really don't think it would work on her that way.

Ryan finally admitting her feelings for Sophie, about fucking time. Just because they're gay doesn't make their straight drama from these last few episodes cool.

With only two episodes left this season, things are certainly shaping up to be an interesting finale. As critical as I'm being on this whole Joker 2.0 plotline, I do think this is the best season of the show. I think they've really hit their mark now and I hope it continues in the next season. The whole half-season approach has proved to be a good choice and maybe it was what the Arrowverse as a whole really needs. It's been working for Legends, Stargirl, and Superman & Lois too. But we'll see where things go in about three weeks on February 23rd with DC's Batwoman 3.12 "We're All Mad Here"

[msmarvelouswinchester]

Wrong Universe

Part 9 - It's A Good Life

Summary - When the actor of the show comes face to face with the characters, what can possibly go wrong?

Characters - Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalecki, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester and basically the entire cast and crew of supernatural.

Warning - Angst, Fluff-ish, Swearing

Catch up here

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Dean raised his gun and pointed at Jensen.

"Woah! Woah! It's us", Jensen raised up his hands in defence.

"What? I could have shot you", Dean said with an annoyed expression on his face, "What do you want?"

"We have a plan", Jared said.

"Plan? For what? To display us like a museum exhibit or to actually send us home?" Dean muttered.

"Look, what happened...we are sorry. W-we didn't plan on it okay? It was-we are sorry", Jared stammered out an apology.

"And why should we believe you again?" Dean raised an eyebrow at Jared.

"You don't have to believe us. Just consider us your allies. We won't interfere with anything. We'll let you boys to do your thing. If you need anything, just don't hesitate to tell us", Jared said.

"Wait. What is this plan of yours?" Sam said.

"What if you guys did a spell reversal?" Jensen asked, "reverse the spell you used to come here. Can't that send you back to your universe?"

"Archangel grace, the most important element is missing", Sam said and pursed his lips.

"Oh. Uhm-well you-if you come up with some plan, let us know, if you need anything, let us know", Jensen said and looked at the ground.

"You weren't this shy, one hour ago. What changed Ackles?" Dean asked eyeing Jensen warily.

"We had someone drill a bit of common sense into us", Jared shrugged.

"So you guys agree to stay out of our business?" Sam asked.

"If that's wha-"

"I didn't know you both are married. I thought maybe giant over here is married only", Dean said causing Jared and Jensen to both look at Dean confusingly.

"Huh? Oh..uh-yeah we are both married with kids", Jensen looked at Dean and caught Dean's facade slipping a little. A sad smile appeared on Dean's face for a second but then he regained his composure and his cocky self was back.

"You are married to fake Ruby in this Universe too?" Sam asked, his eyebrows shotting up.

"Yes. And Jay is married to fake Sister Jo, if you may say", Jared chuckled.

Jensen and Jared both breathed a sigh of relief when they saw the Winchesters at ease with them. They knew that there would tension between them but at least they were warming up to them again.

"Dude! I married an angel, you married a demon! Ha!" Dean pointed at Sam and laughed.

"Shut up! They are both douchebags", Sam rolled his eyes receiving a "Hey" from both Jared and Jensen.

"I wasn't talking about your wives", Sam raised up his hands in defence, "I was talking about demons and angels in general".

"I can't disagree with you on that", Jensen and pulled out his phone, and showed a picture of his kids to the Winchesters.

"Here. That's JJ, Justice Jay, she is the oldest. That's Arrow, and that's Zeppelin, they are tw-"

"You named your son Zeppelin?" Dean's eyes lit up.

"Ye..ah?"Jensen said.

"That's awesome! What is the name of your kid? Lynyrd Skynyrd? Bon Jovi?" Dean asked Jared.

"No. Their names are Thomas, Austin and Odette", Jared said.

"Boring", Dean said receiving a glare from both Jared and Sam. As if on cue, Jensen's phone went off indicating an incoming video call from his wife.

"I gotta take this call. It's better if y'all keep your mouth shut", Jensen said and received the call.

"Hey, Dee!" Jensen asked in a cheery voice.

"Hey? You didn't call me since morning? Are you okay? Gen told me, there was some problems on set. Everything's fine?" Danneel stopped after the mini rapid fire round.

"Dee, just take a breather. Everything is fi-"

"Is it though, Jensen?" Dean wiggled his eyebrows and came and stood behind Jensen.

"Dean! What are you doing?" Jensen hissed.

"It's only fair after the stunt you pulled on us", Dean raised his eyebrow challengingly at Jensen.

"Oh god! Jensen? Who-why am I seeing two of you? That is...that can't be a glitch. Gen, come over here for a second," Danneel called out.

"Oh sweetheart, nice meeting you. I am Dean Winchester and I'm very much real", Dean winked at her. Jared and Sam erupted into laughter at Dean's teasing.

Jensen was staring daggers at Dean. He should have known Dean would do such a thing.

"Huh? Jay? What. Is. Happening?" Danneel asked and Jensen saw Gen coming into the camera's view.

"Long story short, Dean and Sam are real and they are kind of stuck in our universe at this moment. We need to send them back to their home as fast as possible", Jensen said emphasising on his last words and already plotting Dean's murder in his head.

"What?" Gen said in a high pitched sound and Jensen flipped his camera to show her Jared and Sam who were still recovering from their laughter.

"Jared Tristan Padalecki!" Jared sat up straight, "Why didn't you tell me anything about this all?"

"You wouldn't have believed me", Jared answered sheepishly.

"I need a drink. Thank God, we are not in Vancouver now otherwise we had to deal with four idiots", Gen muttered and Danneel came into the camera's view again.

"Bring me a glass too", Danneel told Gen, "Jensen, be safe please. I know it's all so messed up, don't do anything, that the Winchesters wouldn't do-"

"Now that really narrows it down", Dean said with a cocky smile on his face.

"I'm not talking to you Dean Winchester!" Danneel said, "Just stay safe Jensen. All of you, don't be Winchester stupid. I'll call you later".

Jensen nodded at his wife, "I will be safe".

"I'll keep your husband in check. Bye sweetheart", Dean smirked causing Danneel to blush a little. She smiled at him and disconnected the call.

"I'm gonna kill you Dean", Jensen muttered.

"I would like to see you try. I love your wife, she is feisty", Dean winked at Jensen.

"You're dead Winchester", Jensen said and glared at Dean.

"Don't Jensen! You know Sam's here too", Jared laughed. Dean smirked at Jensen who grumbled a 'son of a bitch' in response.

"So we are okay?" Jared said.

"I guess so. Is....D-I mean the actor who played Dad still on set?" Sam asked.

"I don't think so. He got a call and left the set. Come on, let's go back to the set", Jensen assured.

The Winchesters hesitated but eventually followed the actors to the main set.

"I thought the Winchesters killed you both", Misha looked at the actors. "Not funny", Jensen muttered.

"How do you manage to play Cas? You and him are so...different", Dean said.

"It's called acting", Misha retorted back.

"So now that you both believe we are on your side. What is the plan?" Richard asked.

"Don't know", Dean shrugged.

"So get this", Jared started and Dean grinned at Sam.

"What?" Jared asked.

"Nothing. You and Sam are really similar", Dean chuckled causing Jared to roll his eyes.

"We don't have archangel grace. Cas is MIA. But according to the show, God or Chuck is the same for all the universe. What about Death? Billy?" Jared asked.

The four of them looked at each other. "Smart Padalecki", Dean gave Jared an impressed smile.

"Care to share with the class boys. In case you didn't notice, we need words to understand what you're saying", Richard sassed.

"Oh Gabey, we're gonna summon Death", Dean smirked.

"Death? The Death?" Misha exclaimed.

"Yes", Sam said.

"How?" Alex asked.

"Alex, start watching the show buddy. So you're going to bind Death?" Jensen asked.

"I guess so", Sam frowned, "or we need to find a summoni-"

"Did you really think you can go behind my back and try to defeat me, boys?" Rob suddenly spoke up.

"Robbie?"

"Try again", Rob smirked.

"Chuck."

.

.

Forever taglist - @donnaintx @devil-in-my-boots @amandamdiehl @miss-nerd95

Wrong Universe taglist - @mrswhozeewhatsis @squirrelnotsam @lostlittlenerd @this-is-spn @millieccino