#-used to stake out the guy’s family’s home or something

[baycitystygian]

not me listening to a long form video trying to fall asleep when I hear my specific small ass hometown mentioned in the context of being the hometown of a famous MURDERER 😭

[veroniquesboutique]

A Good First Impression - Atsushi Murasakibara x AFAB!Reader

I am feral over Atsushi Murasakibara. Worms using my brain for food type of feral. Foaming at the mouth type of feral.

He is unironically my phone background type of feral.

So, uh....here's this. Personally, I feel real great about it, so I hope you enjoy it as well.

Title: A Good First Impression

Rating: Explicit

Warnings:

AFAB!Reader, Female Reader, f-receiving oral, fingering, it is genuinely only him eating you out, mention of m-receiving handjob, super intense orgasm, squirting, reluctance/hesitation about the squirting but not quite dubcon/noncon, baby used regularly as pet name, college au, fear of getting caught, getting caught after the fact, home for the holidays, parent mention

Characters & ships: boyfriend!Murasakibara Atsushi x AFAB!Reader

Word count: 2.6k words

Summary: Your long-term boyfriend is nervous about staying at your childhood home and meeting your parents for the first time for four reasons:

1 - He's tall, and people tend to comment on it. Too much. 2 - First impressions are a big deal, and what if he fucks it up with his future in-laws? 3 - He met you in college and is terrified of learning something about the you from before (spoiler: you pass the test!) 4 - He can't keep his hands off of you, and he doesn't want the embarrassment of getting caught.

18+ Minors DNI!

More explicit below the cut

Atsushi Murasakibara was nervous to meet your parents for many reasons.

First, his height. This was the first time he was meeting your family, and your parents weren’t exactly short per se, but he was a towering 6’10”. He hated new people having to crane their neck up to look at him, he hated the same three questions and two jokes that every person tells when they meet someone as tall as him, and he hated that he was going to have to learn the careful layout of your childhood home since it was likely not designed with someone of his towering stature in mind. It was always so embarrassing when he’d bump his head on too-low ceiling fans or when he had to bend too far to reach the sink. No one really realizes how weirdly isolating it feels to be at least a head taller than everyone around you, and that’s if he’s lucky. It definitely makes the first impression game much harder.

Second, the holidays. For some reason, instead of meeting your parents for the first time at a low-stakes dinner or briefly in public, he agreed to stay for a week for the holidays at your house. It wasn’t ideal, but they lived in the countryside, and a hotel would have been so inconvenient, so you two decided to stay with your parents. He even sat through the awkward conversation where you all had to figure out if he was sleeping in your room or on the couch. Your parents weren’t exactly the most conservative people in the world - they knew you lived with him now for God’s sake, so it’s not like they had no idea what you two got up to - but everyone was deeply uncomfortable with the suggestion of anything happening under their roof. That being said, none of their couches could handle him - re: the aforementioned height problem - so they made the disgruntled decision to let you two room together. Just no locking the door.

On top of it all, he wanted to bring them gifts, but he had no idea where to even start with holiday gifts for future in-laws he’d never met. You insisted that he didn’t really have to get them anything and that they’d be thankful for anything he put thought into, but that didn’t ease the burden of deciding if your dad was a beer guy or if he was a tool guy or if he was a sports guy or a grill guy or a music guy. The options made his head spin, and that’s not even touching all the possible gifts he could get your mother. This was it - THE first impression - and if he didn’t get it right, he was afraid of a rocky relationship with them forever.

Third, your childhood. He didn’t know you before you two met in college, so everything about you before you moved to the city is a complete mystery to him. His worst nightmare was discovering something about you that he would never be able to unsee. He had always hated the vulnerability in this moment in all of his previous relationships, and it had soured more than one relationship well before its expiry date.

The night you arrived, you showed him to your room, and he held his breath as you swung the door open for him. He walked in, looking around, waiting for the weird childhood shoe to drop, but…it didn’t. The room was fairly normal. It looked like it could be a teenage room in a movie. It seemed stale, set in time, but it didn’t give him the same feeling of ick throughout his body. Carefully, shelf by shelf, he investigated your knickknacks and decorations and memories, and everything he saw made him love the small piece of you that he knew more than the last. By the time he had overturned every stone in your room, his heart was beating harshly in the rhythm of your name.

“You look like you were expecting something crazy,” You laughed at him, having watched him snoop through your past.

He looked at you, his eyes full of warmth. “I was. I didn’t find anything.”

And then he snuck a kiss.

Fourth, the final most important reason he was nervous was you. Well, to be more specific, he was nervous because he couldn’t keep his hands off of you, and this trip wasn’t going to change anything.

He was nervous because he didn’t want to get caught.

“Ah-Ah, ‘Sushi!” You moan, high pitched and trying to keep the volume low as you wiggle in his grip in an attempt to free yourself from the intensity of his tongue between your legs. Your wrist is pressed against your lips to dampen the sound. He tightens his grip on the back of your thighs, pushing your legs further apart and against your body, opening you up for him, and his tongue continues roughly sliding against your sensitive, buzzing clit.

“They aren’t home. You can be loud,” He grunts against you before wrapping his lips around you and sucking you into his mouth, and you can’t help it as you throw your head back and cry out at the feeling.

“They could be home any second!” You hiss, your hips bucking involuntarily against his face, and in response, he moans deeply, sending tingles through your body.

“Then cum before they get back.”

Biting your lip and panting, nearly winded, you stare down at him, meeting his eyes watching you just over your pelvis, and when his tongue dips into you and presses against your trembling walls, you moan loudly with a furrowed brow. Your fingers tangle through his messy purple strands, pushing his face against your core harder.

He slurps the messy wetness dripping out of you, the sound lewd enough to make you blush. “God, you taste so good,” He groans into you, his tongue desperate. “It’s been too long.”

“It’s been three days!” You laugh breathlessly, body convulsing at the small nudges of his nose against your clit as he drinks you in.

“And that’s three days too many,” he complains, shaking his head and smearing his face against the slickness between your legs. “I can’t wait like that. I need you all the time.”

You pant in response, unable to form words when his tongue finds your clit again, brushing against it at a punishing pace. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, your stomach spasming, and he finally releases one of your legs from his controlling grip just to slide it up your needy slit and dip one of his long fingers into you. You nearly cum then, your back arching so aggressively that you hit your head against the wall, and he can’t help the small laugh that rumbles against your nerves.

“Careful, babe,” He mutters, curling the single finger inside you, and the feeling is such a warm, pleasurable tightness in your core.

“I’m going to cum,” You whisper, dropping your jaw open in pleasure, and you feel his smile in response.

“I’m not done yet, so if you cum now, you’re going to have to handle it when I keep going.”

You whimper, lip quivering and body shaking. Breathing, you attempt to stave off the orgasm that has you dangling off the edge of sanity. He slows his movements, watching you closely as he wrings you of cute little sounds and moans and shivers, and it helps when you suck in air, huffing through your nose to stop the trembling in your lower abdomen.

“Y-you said cum before they get back,” You counter, hissing the words through your teeth as you lean up, your toes curling tightly. His tongue helicopters against your throbbing clit, and he takes the hand that was on the back of your other thigh and places it atop your pelvis, pressing down as the finger still deep inside presses up, and you feel the telltale tightening in your core that makes you panic a little.

“You can choose to cum now and be overstimulated, or you can choose to cum later at the risk of your parents hearing you,” He looks up over you with a smile, a second finger suddenly pushing into you to meet the other. “I’m a believer in autonomy.”

As his two fingers now press into the gummy sweet spot in you, you confirm the tightening is definitely going to cause many, many more problems than he’s considering. You bring your hands to grip the bedding below you, trying to wiggle away again. “’Sushi, I-I, wait, I’m going to-” You frustratingly cut yourself off with a groan as his mouth finds your clit again.

“Going to what, babe?” His voice rumbles against you, and there’s a soft wash of pleasure moving through you like waves against a shore. You can only think that it’s going to be a pain to clean after this.

“It’s going to-I’m going to-”

“Aw, baby, I need you to use your words,” He teases, batting his eyelashes innocently when you shoot him a glare.

“I’m going to make a mess,” You grunt through gritted teeth, raising your eyebrows in hopes of him understanding the euphemism, and when it clicks in his brain, his eyes go bright and wide.

He hums darkly, pressing his fingers into you deeper and earning a surprised squeal out of you. “You’re going to squirt for me, baby?”

“God, I hate that word!” You yelp, involuntarily grinding your hips down onto him and panting out in tight, restrained pleasure. “You-you gotta stop now, I-”

“I wouldn’t dare waste this opportunity. You know I love making a mess of you.” His voice is dark, his eyes still teasing as he draws circles around your clit, and between the stretch of his now scissoring fingers, the pressure on your pelvis from his large hand, and his unrelenting pace on your sensitive spots, you’re seeing stars.

Falling back, you groan again, the feeling of uncomfortable tightening worsening deep in you. “The bedding!” You exclaim, arching your back, “I can’t-ah, fuck, I’ll mess up the bedding.”

“Your parents have a washer.”

“The bedding was from my grandmother,” You groan, scrunching up your face and writhing, closing your thighs around his head when it gets too intense. Hyperventilating, you press the side of your face into the pillow, bringing your hand to your face to bite down on your hand to quell the rocking of pleasure inside you now.

“Pity,” He mumbles, distracted too much by the sounds pouring from your mouth, the clenching of your pussy, the taste of your arousal coating his tongue, the slick sounds of his fingers deep in you, and the promise of even more to come (literally and figuratively). “We should’ve put a towel down, huh?”

You groan, frustrated by his lackadaisical demeanor but unable to communicate it as the feeling of pleasure floods your body. You can feel your eyes go a little hazy, and moments later, you call out, your orgasm hitting you like a wall of bricks. It feels like an electric shock through your body, every muscle in your body tensing with a tight zap as the dam breaks inside of you. You squirt, gushing and coating the bed and, effectively, Atsushi’s face, and the only thing that cuts through the absolute sensory overload of your pleasure is his praise that he groans against your skin.

“That’s it, baby, that’s so good. Feel it, c’mon, you can breathe. You taste so good, thank you, baby, thank you.”

With your heavy pants and soft, whimpering moans as aftershocks of the orgasm reverberate through you, your pussy pulses and throbs in time with your heart, and when he softly pushes into you one last time to wring the rest of it out of you, you squeak out a last whine as the final wave of your cum rushes out of you and over his hand. He chuckles at the sight, pulling out of you and dragging his tongue up his fingers while making dark, teasing eye contact with you. Watching his tongue work to lick all of your cum off his skin, your body trembles with both your world-shattering orgasm and the sudden impending need that pulses through you yet again already.

“Kiss me?” You breathe softly, lips barely parted, and he cracks a wide smile, laughing like he’s disbelieving of you.

“You’re going to be the death of me, baby.” His voice is tense and dark with desire, and he crawls up your body slowly, and he meets your mouth with his extended tongue. You lick against it, tasting yourself, and he moans out loud, his hips pressing against yours. His length, hard and impressive, rubs against you, and the friction makes you cry out. You’re too sensitive and overstimulated, but he just smirks against your lips. “I told you to choose carefully. I wasn’t done with you.”

His hand drags down your body, feeling your curves with a hint of possession in his grasp. When he reaches his waist where his hips are pressing into yours, he grips his belt, pulling at the buckle, ripping it through the belt loops on his pants -

The front door opens. The sound of rustling bags floats up to your room. The floorboards creak.

Your eyes go wide in panic.

“Sweetheart?” Your mother calls up the stairs. “We’re home! Atsushi and you should come down and help us with dinner.”

“Get up, get up!” You mutter under your breath, gently batting at his shoulder as he frantically slides off you and off the bed, fixing his belt and helping you by pulling your bedding off. You’re searching for clothes, quickly pulling them on your legs.

The stairs whine as someone climbs step by step.

Your face burns at the impending embarrassment. Atsushi is struggling to hide his arousal with his clothes, and you’re struggling to wipe the slowly drying slick from between your thighs. Your bedding lays in a crumpled, suspicious ball on your mattress.

“Sweetheart?” Your mother asks again, her voice much closer than before.

The doorknob jiggles against the lock.

“C-coming!” You call back, pushing your fingers through your hair as Atsushi wipes his hands down his face to clean up any mess left behind.

“Your door’s-”

You cut off your mother’s inquiry about the locked door by swinging it open. “Sorry, force of habit,” You laugh, opening the door wide enough that she can see Atsushi sitting at your desk with his phone in his hand. He nods a greeting at her.

Her eyes flit to your unmade bed, back down to you, and back over to Atsushi. A slight blush covers her cheeks. “We…we brought groceries for dinner. Would you two like to come help?”

You look over your shoulder at Atsushi who meets your gaze. After a moment, he shrugs and nods. “Sure, we’d love to.”

“Great…come…down when you’re ready,” Your mother says awkwardly, quickly excusing herself back down the stairs. Once you hear her shoes click into the kitchen, you shut the door again, pressing your back to it as you finally let the air in your lungs go in a long sigh. You look up at Atsushi who is trying to bite back his laughter.

“Do you think she noticed?” You wince, knowing the answer.

“Oh yes, absolutely. She knows everything,” He stands, lumbering across the room towards you. He kisses your nose, his hand meeting yours on the doorknob. “Let’s go help with dinner.” He thinks. “And maybe later you can pay me back with a handjob in the shower.”

You groan, the thought of the blush on your mother’s face making your embarrassment burn brighter. “Absolutely not.”

[captain-mj]

You had a very short tiktok series about Gaz watch a true crime documentary about the Riley Christmas murders and one regarding ale talking about how they had a “demon” take out the Zaragoza cartel.

I’ve always wanted to see that expanded on if you could?

Hey Rose!

Gaz was politely listening to something on his phone. His earbuds had died and he couldn't find his normal headphones. He wasn't allowed to use his work ones and while normally he'd do it anyway, his phone didn't have the right adapter for it.

"And the youngest son, Tommy Riley, was found shot dead with the rest of his family. The military covered it all up. There's no evidence that wasn't redacted. What could they be hiding?"

Gaz could've swore he heard Tommy Riley before. But right now, he couldn't quite place it. He could blame it on fatigue.

Ghost walked in and stood near by. He stayed silent as he watched over Gaz's shoulder.

Gaz paused, feeling himself being watched, before relaxing immediately. "Hey, Ghost."

Ghost hummed. "What are you watching?"

"True crime documentary." Gaz answered. "Want to watch with me?”

Ghost thought about it for a minute before sinking into the chair with him. "Sure. Keep playing."

Gaz turned the captions on and raised the volume just a little. Ghost watched with him, staring impassively at the screen.

"What about his oldest brother?" The second host spoke up. "You mentioned they had two sons."

"This is all we have." A family photo of a blond woman, brunette man and their two children. She looked a bit off, almost like she hadn't been expecting to take a photo. Her hand was on a little boy's shoulder. His wide brown eyes were staring at the camera. His hand was on the slightly smaller boy's arm.

"That's it?"

"Yep. Everything about him was apparently burned. No real explanation for it."

"You keep saying him. Who is him?"

"S. Riley. It's all we have. According to the people from his home town, he was unremarkable. just... some guy. For some reason it seems, his school records were burned. His history in the military was burned. And, oh yeah, his medical records, several pages long apparently, and that's just his childhood medical records, were also burned. All different fires. All within the same week." It was clear the implication and it was now hitting Ghost that this was his fucking case.

Yikes.

Gaz laughed. "Military cover up, right Ghost? They blame everything on that."

"This one actually was."

Gaz looked unsure. "You know about this?"

"Yeah. Quite a bit." Ghost got up. "Poor bastard is dead. Died a long time ago. Military just didn't want people to know their hands were in it." He got up. "Don't listen to Ghost stories too much."

As he was leaving, he could see something in Gaz's eyes. A thought.

S. Riley.

Ghost didn't have to deal with his past for a while before he and Alejandro were staking a place out. Valeria were said to be around and that was all the excuse Alejandro needed to be there.

"You ever hear about the Zaragoza cartel?" Alejandro asked, using a hushed tone. It was clear this wasn't reverence. He was baiting Ghost into asking him to tell a cautionary tale or ghost story.

Ghost grinned under his mask. "No. Tell me."

Alejandro launched into the story with a rather good amount of showmanship. There was shockingly little embellishment, but with Roba, there wasn't much need for it. He went over the torture the men, Ghost included, endured. The drugging, the assault, the beating and fighting.

"What happened to them?" Ghost asked on cue and he could see Alejandro smiling.

"A demon. Wiped them all out. Said he wore a..." Alejandro trailed off. He glanced at Ghost. He was a smart man. But when Ghost responded by tilting his head and waving him forward to continue, he seemed to realize that the British man in front of him most likely would not have been in the middle of Mexico at the time. It made no sense. "Skull mask."

"To mock Roba?"

"Rudy thinks so. I don't."

"Why do you think he wore it?"

"I think he was a dead man." Alejandro answered. He sighed softly and his eyes closed. "Forgot how boring stake outs are."

Ghost hummed. "If you want, I could take first watch? Might be good for you to go sleep."

Alejandro nodded. "Might be a good idea." He moved his stuff and managed to lay down.

"Don't let Manuel Roba bite." Ghost grinned.

Alejandro laughed and closed his eyes. Only a moment later, his eyes fluttered open. "Did I say his first name?"

"Nah. I heard of him before. Just wanted to keep you entertained." Ghost patted Alejandro's legs and stood up. He stretched and shook his own legs out before continuing to watch out the window.

Alejandro seemed to let it go.

Soap saw the scarring on Ghost's chest where the autopsies and unnecessary surgeries had gone on. Ghost thought Soap was going to vomit when he saw the extent of it. He didn't think it was because Soap thought it was gross, his scot loved the Glasgow scars on his face and had kissed the scarring on his throat with a vigor Ghost didn't understand. But more, the fact that Ghost had clearly been tortured in such horrific ways.

Soap opened his mouth and closed it a few times before swallowing. "The people wh-"

"Dead. Killed them myself, don't worry."

"They still hurt?"

"Sometimes. I've started taking care of them more and it's not as bad."

Soap traced the mortuary scars first and then the scarring over his ribs. "This feels personal."

"He hated me because I wouldn't break. Fucking Cartel." Ghost answered softly and leaned into him. "Come on. Do you really want to spend our time together doing this?" He leaned down and kissed him.

"They also make the Glasgows?"

"Yeah. The venom scarring was my dad though."

Ghost thought Soap was going to blow up at first. Instead, he just spent the rest of their time kissing all over Ghost as if he could make up for lost time.

Ghost cheekily recommended one of his documentaries to Rodolfo. It was one of the ones that dropped part of his name in it but also insisted that he was the one to murder his family in cold blood. The documentary was one of his least favorite and Ghost had spent more than a few nights after watching it staring at his ceiling, feeling sick. But it was one of the ones that was most misleading. Rudy was smart, but the doc was mixed into several others as well so it wasn't obvious.

Rodolfo didn't call him out on it, but there was something in their eyes when they bumped into each other again. He knew. Just needed a shred of evidence before outright asking Ghost if he murdered his family.

Alejandro invited everyone to his Ranch for a celebration. There was nothing to celebrate, but they all were on leave for the first time since Los Almas.

Rodolfo thanked Ghost and Gaz for the true crime documentaries they had been sending him.

Gaz, who had started to become very suspicious about this whole thing, nodded. "Yeah, thank you for the recommendations too. The Riley Family Christmas murders were an interesting one." They both glanced at Ghost.

So did Price. He was frowning, looking almost panicked. He assumed, reasonably, that this would be a triggering topic for Ghost.

Ghost laughed. "Yeah. That's a good one. Whole family, dead and mutilated. Then they find the oldest son burned somewhere else? Fucking hell." He walked away, getting one of the spiked drinks. He also made sure to pass Price to nod at him. Price got worried and he didn't want him.

Alejandro started the tale about the Zaragoza Cartel to everyone and Soap listened to the methods of torture.

"Wait. Did you say they'd... autopsy them? While alive?"

Alejandro grinned, thinking Soap was just into the nitty gritty details. "Yeah. It was so they could put drugs directly into their organs."

"Huh... Ghost, did they do that to you? The drugging I mean."

Pause.

A pin drop could be heard.

"Yeah. Nasty hallucinogens."

"Huh. Wonder if the two groups had the same idea."

Price was catching on and he quickly glanced at Ghost who gave him The Nod. Politely, he waited until Alejandro was done before asking. "You hear about the people that escaped?"

"Yeah of course. All brainwashed though. They were half insane."

"You hear about the one that did though? Truly escaped? He was an SAS member. Vicious young Sergeant at the time. I was his Lieutenant." Price took a drink. Unlike Alejandro, there was no showmanship. No excitement. Instead, there was a string of sadness.

"S. Riley. I remember finding his patch. Right next to a bunch of bloody dog tags. Roba knew I was following him and he wanted me to know he hurt or killed some of my members. Fucking bastard."

There was a sharp moment. Everyone was putting things together.

"Riley escaped. They found him, mostly dead, wandering the border. We brought our boy home along with some of those brainwashed bastards. Didn't know they'd be targeting civilians."

Gaz gasped so loud Rodolfo jumped. "The military coverup."

"I told you not to listen to Ghost stories." Ghost smiled, taking a drink.

Price hummed. "You know, Simon. I was scared when you went missing a second time. Until I heard that cartel had been wiped off the map and I found you knee deep in bodies."

"Aye. They made one mistake that evening. Just one."

Soap asked the question, right on cue, even if he didn't know it. "Just one?"

'Yeah. Really shouldn't have killed my mom. Might've let a few of them live if they hadn't."

"Mary was a lovely lady." Price clicked their bottles together. "Raised a lovely son."

"You recommended us documentaries over your own family's murders??"

"I have to keep myself entertained somehow."

[esggs]

Obeisance to the Arrow - Noritoshi Kamo

#1 : Omiai

[You meet Noritoshi Kamo for the first time in your life at the age of 7. He sucks at making sandcastles.]

tw: arranged marriage au, forced marriage, child marriage (not yet but soon, my condolences), noritoshi x reader, no use of 'y/n'. fluff, angst (a little i suppose?), no smut

#2 : The Ring Ceremony

This Kamo boy was annoying you- he just couldn’t get the sandcastle towers correct. “Hey!” you yell out, “I’m telling you again, we only need one tower on each side, and not crooked like you are making, what are you even doing?”

He looks up at you. Perhaps. Under all the pin straight shoulder length hair and creased brows, you weren’t sure where his focus was.

“Kamo-san, I’m telling you, just do as I tell you to!”

Noritoshi had been playing house with a seven-and-a-half-year-old you for the past hour, outside your home. The Zenin estate, he mused, was large and luxurious, and clearly comfortable for you. Two maids watched over you two playing, following whatever you ordered them to. Guards patrol the periphery of the estate, just out of sight. Both the Zenin and Kamo families, discussing matters in the house overlooking your playground, cast a happy glance over you now and then. And you, a beloved daughter of the Zenins, have clearly no idea what is going on. 

How should I break it to her? Noritoshi was significantly older than you; he was almost 12, and enrolled to start Jujutsu Tech School within the next coupe years. Should I even? Perhaps I should let her enjoy her life for now.

“Kamo-san” you were starting to bristle with anger, never having been ignored in your life. This guy can’t just come into your house and into your playground and then ignore you. “Kamo-san, what are you thinking about that is so important, huh?”

Noritoshi got up, accidentally breaking a sand-tower he had made to please you, and walked back towards the house, without a word. You stared at him, indignant. Fine, you thought, if he doesn’t want to play, he doesn’t play. Nii-chan will play with me. You ask a maid to bring her to you, and moments later she comes back with a worried looking Mai. “Is everything okay, Einstein-chan?” 

You giggled at her as she took that idiot Kamo boy’s place. “Oh, is our little Einstein girl happy now?” She smiled too, pinching your cheeks. Of the twins, Mai was the one who doted on you. Maki was… distant, maybe? Not very interested, you suppose? It wasn’t yours to solve, so you didn’t care much about it, especially not when Mai would bring you sweets and flowers and play with you. Life was great. You were beloved, pampered and indulged in– what more could a child need?

“Nii-chan” you whined, trying to wheedle some sympathy chocolates out of her. “Kamo-san just left, and he broke my towers too.” But Mai, instead of being angry on your behalf, just laughed.

“You must forgive him, sweetcheeks, and also- don’t call him that. Say ‘Noritoshi-sama’, okay?”

“Don’t be overbearing, Mai”. You whip your head, where did Maki even come from? “Do you want to play too, nii-chan?”--you offered Maki.

“Hmm? What are you playing?”

“House, we’re making a castle and then we’ll make the princess and then rescue her, or burn her at the stake, whichever you like, nii-chan” You beam up at Maki, who doesn’t return the enthusiasm one bit, in fact, she whistles and crouches down to your level. Mai tells her to stop, don’t do anything rash, please don’t make matters worse, please don’t, but Maki doesn’t seem to even hear it. The maids around you look a bit, what is that emotion? Perturbed? But you can tell, having no power to stop Maki, they do their best to look away, as if they were no witness or accomplice to whatever Maki has planned. Panic hits you all of a sudden, what’s happening? What’s wrong? 

And then Maki says, “Why don’t you go up to the house and show everyone your talent?”

Mai is angry at Maki, she says something harshly, the maids, where are they? The sandcastle breaks as you gingerly step over it, over the playground, to the house full of your whole family, the Kamo family, they are all laughing and drinking and talking and there is your mother, in the corner, and your father, stamping his sign on papers amid cheers and pats to his back, and there is the Kamo boy, there is Noritoshi-sama.

Cursed Technique: Distillation

Time pauses. So does everyone and everything. The papers your father is stamping is regarding the distribution of the conjoined assets of the Kamo and Zenin clans after your marriage. Naoya, your cousin, is congratulating your father, but he’s not very happy actually, he had wanted to marry you eventually. The Kamos are demanding a dowry of 40 million yen for Noritoshi’s Blood Manipulation technique, but Grandpa Naobito is refusing thoroughly, and demanding an equal bride price of 47.5 million yen: 40 million for your Distillation technique and 7.5 million for your youth. The sake they are drinking was chosen by Noritoshi’s step-mother. The ring ceremony is in three months from now, and the wedding when you reach menarche. Your family is really happy. The Kamos are begrudgingly happy. Noritoshi has accepted his fate, no further opinions beyond that. You are to be married to Noritoshi Kamo. 

—-

The words of delight seeing you in the room start falling silent when you start wailing, sobbing, screaming. You just stand there and cry loudly, the way little children do. Your mother promptly picks you up, apologizes, and whisks you away. As you walk away, still crying, you hear your family try to soothe the situation, hearing phrases like: “ …gets overwhelmed using her cursed technique…” “ …just a child, hahaha, got shy…” “... yes yes, too shy, a young bride, hee-hee, what a cutie …” and you begin to cry even harder. 

If the Kamos were disturbed at the impolite interruption, nothing came of it. You were arranged to be given in marriage to Noritoshi Kamo, in a few years from now on. 

----

A/N: I'll explain Distillation further dw, tho it is pretty clear even now, lemme know if i should tag you!

chapter 2 : The Ring Ceremony

[002yb]

i would love to hear any thoughts about the guys finding out damian’s paternity in the secretary au? how does everyone handle it? ps your writing is a refuge against all the canon typical jason and the fam angst and its so good to have a bit of cute jason centric goodness 🥰

When Bruce returns home from another late night at the office, the last thing he expects is to be confronted by what appears to be an intervention. Not an uncommon occurrence for this family, but definitely not appreciated given Bruce is already running late for patrol.

A patrol that Nightwing and Robin should have already gotten a start on, yet here they are. Dressed, ready, and yet still lingering for him.

Something dire must have happened. His only consolation is that Jason is safe. Bruce made sure of it, as he often does. Seeing Jason home. Leaving, only to double back and linger. Watching through a broken window and sheer curtains at a spill of golden light to catch one more glimpse of his darling boy.

Ah, it's most definitely an intervention.

To dawdle like he does, as often as he does — it's possible it hasn't been without consequence to his responsibilities. For as motivated and reinvigorated as he feels towards his cause now that Jason is returned to him, Bruce can't protect this city if he can't tear himself from Jason's side...

But also? Where better to stake himself than at the heart of this city?

"We were delayed at the office." Bruce defends himself like a child caught out and not the grown man he is, sweeping through the cave and towards his costume. "Given the hour, I chose to see Jason home safely."

No one says anything. Tim doesn't call Bruce out on the truths he stretches — how the only delay that kept them at WE was due to Bruce's insistence on having misplaced his keys and needing help finding them. Being distracted by playful ribbing and witty humor throughout; shared stories of Jason's misadventures in child care — forgotten diaper bags and missing shoes, a hat blown away on a breeze.

'Lost things have a way of turning up where they're needed.' Jason had said, content because that forgotten diaper bag helped a struggling mother that was down on her luck and the shoe Damian kicked off on a walk made a homeless man smile at memories of softer times and the hat became a nest for some birds—

'If we're lucky they make their way back to us.' Jason told him, with a firm pat to Bruce's breast pocket where his keys jingled together. And Bruce stood there, awestruck as he raised his hand. Fingers brushing over Jason's hand before Jason pulled away, smile wide and impish. And Bruce smiled back, head dipping to play at sheepish while really his chest was simply overfull with gratefulness.

Lucky, indeed.

Not so lucky is that his fortune only extended up until the point with this intervention. Even Alfred is here to badger him, it seems. It’s laughable, given the three of them would or have done the same as him. Hypocrites, Bruce thinks petulantly.

"Start your routes." Bruce calls to them, a hail mary to hopefully spare himself from whatever is coming. When no one budges, Bruce frowns. Sighs, "Unless there's something pressing?"

The question has everyone shifting their gaze away from him with uncertainty. Even their body language is closed off, though maybe their mirrored crossed arms are an attempt to self-soothe? Bruce's brows furrow. He turns his focus to Dick who meets his eye and Bruce's frown deepens at the wariness he finds there.

"What is it?" He prompts even as he turns to dress. A quick process for how often he's done it. Whatever intervention they have staged, whatever trouble has come their way — it will have to be resolved while they're on the move. It really is late.

And yet they continue to wait. It tests Bruce's patience, though when he starts to bristle, Alfred clears his throat and prompts him, "It would do you well to take a seat, Master Bruce."

Ah. Bruce shoots a fleeting glance at the Batmobile, gauging if he can make a break for it before his sons tackle him and force his compliance. As that was one of the points of a prior intervention, Bruce decides to sit. If only to prove a point.

When he's handed loose pages, Bruce looks to Tim for a summary. Their usual routine, only this time his partner is not forthcoming. Tim looks pointedly down at the pages before looking back to Bruce, a somberness to his expression that has Bruce giving the report his full attention.

The report being... a paternity test? For Damian.

Bruce scans it, pausing when he comes across the results. Doubling back and rereading it properly because oh.

In no uncertain terms: it's Bruce.

A fine tremble in his hand gives away his nerves. The report shakes in his hold, worsened when Bruce slouches forward to read the results again, again, again. He hides the lower half of his face with his hand, brow furrowed as he tries and fails to wrap his head around such extraordinary circumstances.

Everything falls away from him. There's static in his ears, beneath his skin. Being a father is of no consequence to him — he has three wonderful sons already, he would be so lucky to have another, it's just...

"I have a son..." His voice sounds far away to his own ears. Soft-eyed, breathless, he marvels, "with Jason."

He thinks of Jason's romanticized views of being lost — of going to where you're needed and can't shake that Jason was lost to him to find Damian. To bring him home.

Maybe Bruce's luck hasn't run out quiet yet, after all.

Silence trails Bruce's proclamation, followed in short order by Alfred turning away from him — the bridge of his nose pinched between his fingers. Tim follows suit, head tipped back and hands scrubbing down his face, muffling exasperated gibberish. And Dick, who Bruce watches most pointedly, balks.

"That's not what the test says," Dick bristles, "Absolutely not!"

===========

What's tough is that Bruce can't up and claim to Jason that Bruce is Damian's father, either. That would hardly go over well. Jason is so protective of Damian that Bruce would be put in the ground for overstepping with his unconsented for paternity test — the authorities wouldn't even have a chance at him.

But also? Bruce can't go on like he knows nothing. He wants to be involved in Damian's life. He wants to be a father with Jason.

So. Baby steps. Which Dick and Tim are so petulant about because it involves them covering for Batman's patrol one night. Meaning they can't hang out at the manor with Jason and Damian when they come by for dinner. This is about a kid and their father though, so Dick and Tim begrudgingly lay low (and are grumpy about it all the while).

But yes, Damian being icy with Bruce because he associates Bruce with being the one to always take Jason away. And Jason has explained it's work, but Damian is peeved regardless.

To everyone's surprise, Bruce focusing more on Damian than Jason?? With Bruce kneeling to be more at eye level with this boy. And telling Damian that he can come with Jason to work whenever he wants; it's okay.

Which Jason is !!! about because what? Boundaries, boss. Not that he doesn't appreciate it.

Bruce insists though because "he does keep Jason occupied more than he should" but low-key...it's an opportunity to spend more time with his son if Damian visits, so...

Just Bruce trying to be a good dad even if he can't openly be a dad ;U;

Something something Damian bonding with Dick more though and Bruce gets it, but like (ノಠ益ಠ)ノ彡┻━┻

Extra odds and ends:

Going to the park together! And Bruce brings Ace and Damian adores him so much. The dog, not necessarily Bruce.

Just this sweet family walking together. With Damian holding the leash (that Bruce also holds on to) and ahhhhhh it's sweet

But also... the park is Dick and Damian's thing. So Bruce notices Damian looking around and questions it. And when Jason admits that he's looking for Dick, Bruce is so petulant and grumpy and jealous and ಠ_ಠ

Jason taking Bruce up on bringing Damian into the office one day. Because the assassin sitter got tied up on a job. Only there's an emergency with Tim so Jason has to attend to that and it's just Bruce and Damian.

And they probably sit across from one another at Bruce's desk and Bruce is all severe while Damian stares at him and clicks his tongue and insists on being difficult ahahahaha

Tim coming back with Jason later and both Bruce and Damian click their tongues at Tim for taking up Jason's attention and it's their first moment really connecting on something ahhhhhahaha

But yeah, the Talia reveal might come later and in a completely anticlimactic way. Where Bruce probably asks after Damian's mother and Jason casually name drops Talia. And Bruce is convinced it's a coincidence, but then Jason throws out the Al Ghul name and Bruce is ko'd, utterly o(-( because okay, he needs a minute.

==============

A big thank you for the sweet message, too! Sometimes I worry the way I write Jason is unlikable since my take on him is a little more soft/silly, so this was very assuring. ;/////;

[silversodas]

What Happened Between Crimson and Moxxie’s Mom?

The flash back Moxxie had paints an interesting story, and it also gives Crimson a more interesting motive then “because he’s an asshole” the first thing I noticed is that he is definitely jealous of Moxxie

Moxxie can’t cut his stake on his own so Mama cuts it for him

Crimson has this odd tension about him, which could be read as him being annoyed that Moxxie couldn’t cut his own food, but this tension is held inward it’s not projected out to Moxxie, which is why Moxxie doesn’t even notice.

He is glaring at Moxxie’s mom but the tension is still held inward, showing he is conflicted about something.

People have mentioned that him getting angry at her pulling away from this is a sign of aggression and it is, but it’s also interesting that the initiation of the touch was not, it’s almost timid, it’s careful. All this together gives the impression that Crimson is jealous of the affection she shows Moxxie and he wants her to want to give that to him and she turns him down flat.

It’s possible that when dating the relationship was not working out, but then she gets pregnant. It’s often herd that women use pregnancy to tie down a guy, but men can do that too. Did he threaten to take Moxxie? I mean it’s possible, but maybe he didn’t have to. When guys try to keep a girl through pregnancy he doesn’t have to threaten with responsibility, it’s actually easier just to make it more appealing that she won’t have to do it alone and that he’s gonna be there for her and the baby. And if he was already rich that probably made it a much more attractive option then being a single mother in literal Hell.

But unsurprisingly, trying to keep someone who might not even be that into you makes for a vary unhappy marriage.

This is possibility #1 possibility #2 is “I love you, but I never should have had a kid with you”

It’s possible that Moxxie’s Mom is a morally gray person that was perfectly fine with her husband’s work, her being a woman, in crimsons eyes, ment she didn’t have to get her hands dirty. I also think it’s a possibility because she was never afraid of Crimson, hinting at a trust that he wouldn’t hurt her even though he has the power to do so with a snap of his fingers, but that could be because she was trying to stay brave for Moxxie both are plausible. What I am getting at is that having children can change you and your relationship drastically, so it’s possible that they were on the same page and she was still in love with him, until they became parents. Like the shooting range for example

She was fine with Moxxie learning to use a fire arm, what she wasn’t ok with was Crimson teaching Moxxie to kill people.

If you look closely you see Moxxie’s moms silhouette in the background, Crimson is looking to her first before teaching Moxxie. Almost like he is making sure she is watching. And she never felt powerless to do anything, she didn’t hesitate to shove the gun back into crimson’s hands and walk off without a word. So it gives me the impression he is looking for her approval, that he is contributing to Moxxie’s shooting lesson. And him being angry at her taking Moxxie and leaving the shoot range tells me one of two things

1) His Mom has been rebuffing Crimsons attempts to teach Moxxie the family business for years and it’s frustrating him that she wont see it his way already

2) Crimson doesn’t see where being a better person gets you, so it makes perfect sense to make Moxxie like them. And it pisses him off because before Moxxie was born, to her, this was the good life, before she got pregnant she would happily sit in his lap while he talked to her about his day as long as he didn’t bring work home and get blood on her carpet. But NOW she has a moral compass? NOW that life isn’t good enough for our son?

I admit I like possibility #2 because it would be relatable, my brother used to run with people who liked drugs and a little after high school too, and it’s heartbreaking to learn who is actually your friend and who was only your friend in a certain circumstance, like he was just part of the indulgence. I work at a bar and that’s happened to a couple of regulars too. They had more drinking friends then actual friends.

It would also be interesting if she was ok with her life with Crimson, but wanted her son to be better then them, not be like them. And this difference in priority caused her to fall out of love with Crimson, but there is one more thing that makes me think of possibility #2

It’s when his mother is gone and it’s just them now. Crimson is full on hate glaring at Moxxie, I think it’s to show he blames Moxxie for their relationship going bad, to me this glare says “everything was fine until YOU showed up”.

But then again He could just be blaming Moxxie for his relationship issues simply because he can and her loving Moxxie more is also Moxxie’s fault, the alternative is blaming himself and he isn’t about to do that.

And as for Moxxie being born in the Wrath Ring, his parents either 1) didn’t get married till after he was born or 2) she already tried leaving Crimson once because she wanted her baby away from that life style, straight up Kill Bill style but he found her and either threatened her or convinced her to come back by convincing her he was a better financial option for the baby

But it’s just a theory

[hecckyeah]

Listen. I know, I KNOW we all have mixed feelings about the finale. Just in the last hour, I’ve read at least five posts on each side, some saying it was the best thing filoni’s ever created, and some literally cursing his guts. As I watched it, I was leaning much more to the how dare you, I waited two years for this and this sucks side, but I had a good night of sleep and some thought, and. I think everyone is overreacting.

Some thoughts.

First, I do think it should have been an animated Rebels season 5. I am partial to live action in general and I’m so glad we got such fantastic casting. But Filoni really shines in the animated world. Live action has limits that animation laughs at, and with all of Dave’s creativity and parallels and callbacks and history in animation, it would have suited this show better. Granted, the viewership might have been worse than it already was, but who’s to say?

Secondly, of course the whole thing was a setup for future movies/shows. It would have been near impossible for this to be a standalone series, with only 8 episodes and so much at stake. I still have absolutely zero idea how this fits in with the s*quels, but I hope it’s all part of the plan to safely extract our (Filoni’s) favorite characters before all hell breaks loose on the narrative.

BUT. Just because it was a setup doesn’t make the story any less meaningful. Dave is the master of arcs within arcs within arcs within arcs. There was the mini arc of Ahsoka and Anakin, reconciling very (very very) complicated feelings and Ahsoka coming to grips with her past as a child soldier and forgiving Anakin for the choices and mistakes he made. There was the mini arc of Hera in the New Republic and how she has to balance her loyalty to the government that she helped to establish with her loyalty to her family (something I don’t think we’ve seen the last of). There was the mini arc of (obviously) finding Ezra!!!! HE’S HOME, YOU GUYS. Sabine did the selfless thing and sent him home after a decade to have a fighting chance to reunite with his family. And to meet Kanan’s son and to see the beauty that Lothal has turned into and to hug his adoptive mom. And she has full faith in him that he will be back to get her, or that she’ll find a way to go back. Because she now has knowledge that he didn’t before, and with Ahsoka’s help and probably Shin and Baylan too, there’s no way they won’t Jedi their way out of this. (*cough* world between worlds *cough*) Also seeing Morai was a HUGE plot twist. I, for one, can’t WAIT to see what’s up with that.

FINALLY. and I think this is something that Star Wars fans (dare I call them fans anymore?) seem to always forget is that Star Wars……. Kinda sucks. It always has. No one in their right mind would say that Star Wars is a literary masterpiece or anything close to that. Star Wars is great because you are literally required to take it all with a grain of salt. Nothing goes at face value. You have to overlook things for the rest to make sense. You cherry pick your favorite parts and ignore the rest. Do I know absolutely anything about mandalore and their political history?? Not one single thing. But could I explain to you the nuances of the aptly-named Disaster Lineage and how generation trauma comes in more ways than by blood?? I could write PAGES. There’s so much history and lore and side characters and branches of story and nuance that no one can ever fit it all together perfectly, no matter how good of a storyteller they are. You have to pick a niche and run with it, and that’s exactly what Dave Filoni is doing. AND that’s what we as fans need to do. If you’re mad that he didn’t address the chiss as a whole or delve into the mysteries of the nightsisters or expand on what happened between Ahsoka and Sabine in depth, then I’m sorry, but you’ve come to the wrong place. Put on a pair of rose colored glasses and cry at Ezra’s reunions with the rest of us.

I’ve stopped expecting perfection from any major franchise (haven’t watched a marvel show or movie since TF&TWS) because the bigger they get, the less they’re going to appeal to the general fan base. And Ahsoka was no different. But it did accomplish one thing: bringing Ezra Bridger home after 10 years, and I think that is all we actually need to worry about for now.

Thanks for coming to my TED talk.

[md-confessions]

Murder Drones could have been a lot better if Doll was never introduced into the plot or straight up didn't exist.

Before you light up the torches, I will remind you that I love Doll to death. I'm the guy who made an entire map of posts on the character + a handful of analyses about a lot of her different aspects; this isn't a hot idea that I made up right now, it's something I've been thinking about for a long time, and unfortunately I must finally admit it publicly.

Much like episode 7 completely recontextualised Tessa up to this point, it did the same thing with Doll, but in a negative way, her rushed demise didn't just destroy all of the future potential that she had, no, it did way worse than that: it ruined every single one of her previous scenes, as now all of them fell pointless since she was just a plot device for V and Cyn's development and not a character in her own right.

Now, while all of this is arguably completely true and factual, you might still say, why do you want to eliminate her? She still was a pretty awesome character with a large chunk of the fanbase fawning over her and could still come back for a better exploration of her character and potential.

And to that, I'll have to ask you to look at the bigger picture: Murder Drones, as it is right now, it's kind of an unfortunate mess.

Liam Vickers rushed everything, and I mean EVERYTHING in order for us to reach the part of the plot that he wanted to show, when he could have just simply narrated a simpler, smaller story with less emphasis on the lore and more on the characters. He should have known when to let go of some stuff for the betterment of the series, instead he's just trying to tell everything while rushing to the finish line and without flashing out any particular aspect of it.

While in my mind I would have just gone for a simpler, lower stakes story, I won't deny the fact that this is clearly not what Liam Vickers would have done; so, if an end of the world narrative is what he was trying to tell, he should have disregarded the high school setting even MORE than what he ended up doing.

I would have had Uzi, V and N get kidnapped by an alien/solver thing so that they would be forced into space by the ending of episode 3, and used episode 2 and the first half of episode 3 to flesh out Thad and Khan, so that we could feel the impact of the protagonist being forced out of her home. Then, the rest of whatever Liam has planned for season 2 would have happened.

If it weren't for Doll, I wouldn't be as obsessed with Murder Drones as I am right now; for me at least, she was the selling ticket for the series, but it's clear that Liam had to eliminate some aspects of his show to tell the narrative that he wanted to, and if that aspect wasn't the lore, then it had to be the characters, and Doll plus maybe her family depending on what Yeva is going to do if she were to come back are at the top of the chopping block list. Lizzie is important for V's development, Thad was already obliterated out of relevance but I'm curious on what he's going to do in ep 8, J shouldn't have returned if she was going to be irrelevant again but I still think that she wasn't wasted as long as she's still alive.

Liam could have just simply created another plot device to force V to develop and the raptor scene to happen, so even from that storytelling aspect, Doll was completely and utterly worthless to begin with.

op added:

[estoricwaterlane]

A Fools Gamble

character: Thomas Shelby

fandom: Peaky Blinders

pairing: Thomas Shelby x Fem!Reader

tags: fluff,romance,slowburn

a/n: heyy guys I'm back took a long break lol

She looked around the train station, feeling lost and disoriented.

She had never ventured so far from her posh, upper-class home in London before, and the only time she had ever been to Birmingham was when her parents dragged her to visit the country's biggest industrial center for the annual Cotton Fair.

Her thoughts shifted to the reason for her journey, and her face flushed with excitement at the memory of their secret rendezvous.

She called over a porter and inquired about the whereabouts of the Marriott Hotel.

The man politely directed her to the ticket booth, where she purchased a ticket for the local tram. She climbed aboard the trolley and marveled at the bustling crowds milling about. There she saw him, a strikingly handsome man with dark, wavy hair and piercing blue eyes.

She knew immediately that she had to have him.

Once they reached the hotel, she slipped the porter a few extra pounds to procure her a room for the evening, and then she entered the bar, hoping to catch the gentleman's eye. "May I fetch you a drink?" she asked him seductively.

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Are you speaking to me, miss?"

"I am. Are you opposed to beautiful women approaching you, Mr. . . ?"

"Mr. Shelby, Thomas Shelby," he replied.

People at all corners of the bar were eyeing you as if you were some sort of spectacle, and it was something that she was used to.

Being from a wealthy family had its perks, but the attention was something that she disliked.

"Well, Mr. Shelby, I shall take your silence as a yes, and shall get you the finest Scotch in Birmingham," she said, flagging down the barman.

"I don't like being patronized," Mr. Shelby replied.

"Neither do I," she said. "Tell me, are you a betting man?"

Mr. Shelby's eyes lit up with interest. "I am, although I'm afraid I don't gamble with women," he said.

She pulled out a handful of bills from her purse and slid them toward him. "Then I suggest we bet on whether or not you will fall in love with me."

Mr. Shelby smirked. "And what are the stakes?"

"If I win, you will join me in my hotel room for the evening. If you win, then I will buy you a bottle of the finest Scotch to help you forget all about me."

He looked at his watch. "It's getting rather late, Miss . . ."

"___," she responded. "Miss ___."

"If you'll excuse me, Miss ___, I have a business appointment to attend."

He slipped the money back into her purse and walked toward the door. She sat back and took a sip of her cocktail, watching him go.

[sergeantsporks]

Witch Switch: All of Part 3

Part 1 Part 2

That's a wrap on Episode 1! Episode 2 should start coming out around May 1st; see you then!

Transcript underneath the cut

Cover: Portal Door

[Open on Phillip, waiting outside school with Jacob Hopkins]

Jacob: [completely unprompted] So I was watching this video—

Phillip: Oh, god, here we go.

J: —about underground witch rings that still exist throughout the world—

P: They’re called neopagans, and they aren’t underground. Also, witch “rings” aren’t a thing, they’re called “covens.” Which you’d know if you got your information from literally any reliable source.

J: Yeah, well, anyway I was thinking, what if there are some in Gravesfield? I mean, how would we know? I’m pretty sure the museum curator is a witch, so we should investigate the—

[Cut to Phillip, exasperated, holding his arms in an “x”]

P: There’s no “we” here, don’t rope me into this. Leave Masha alone. So what if they’re a neopagan? There’s no such thing as a “real” witch with “real” magic. They’re not hurting anything.

[Cut to Jacob, incensed]

J: You might not believe it, but I know what I saw! Witches and demons walk among us, and—

P: [disembodied] Oh, look, my ride is here, bye, Jacob.

[Car pulls away from the curb, leaving a fuming Jacob]

[Inside the car]

Caleb: Aw, was that one of your friends?

P: No. Just Jacob.

C: Seemed like you guys were having a nice conversation!

P: He was suggesting breaking and entering so that he could collect evidence that the museum curator is a witch and should be burned at the stake, because he’s an idiot who doesn’t even know that witches in America were hung, not burned.

[Cut to just Caleb, worried]

Caleb: Oh. Um. Don’t do that, please.

P: [disembodied] I’d drop dead before going along with him. He just hangs around the guys, he’s not really our friend.

C: Ah.

P: [perplexed] Hey, you missed the turn.

C: Yeah, you’re coming to work with me today. You can do your homework there.

P: Is this because of what happened on the field trip?

C: No, no, nothing to do with that. It’s just…

[Cut to tense, worried Phillip]

C: [disembodied] There’s something I wanted to talk to you about.

[Cut to inside of Robin Roast. Caleb sets a coffee in front of Phillip and sits down]

Caleb: So, Phillip… What do you think of Evelyn?

Phillip: Eh. She’s fine. I guess. If you like her.

C: You’re not just saying that?

P: Did she snitch about me not letting her in right away? I swear I couldn’t hear her. (lying).

C: It’s not about that, Phillip. Although you need to be more aware of your surroundings when I’m not home—especially if you know someone’s coming.

P: Yeah, okay.

C: I know you didn’t use to like Evelyn very much, so I just wanted to know what you thought of her now.

[Cut to Phillip drinking his coffee]

P: Mhm.

C: [disembodied] And… I wanted to know what you would think of inviting her to join our family

P: [spits out his coffee]

[Phillip wipes his mouth, incredulous]

Phillip: WHAT?! You can’t marry Evelyn!

Caleb: [disembodied] Why not? We’ve known her for 4 years now, and I’ve been dating her for 2.

P: Uh—no. She knows us. We don’t actually know anything about her!

[Cut to floating cartoon heads of Caleb and Phillip, Caleb going from confused to varying levels of defensive while Phillip grills him]

Caleb: What are you talking about? Sure we do.

P: We don’t know where she works—

C: She works in a pawn shop… or thrift store or something… I think.

P: —we know nothing about her family—

C: Oh, come on, you know better than anyone that family can be a touchy subject.

P: —She disappears for weeks at a time-!

C: She’s visiting family!

P: The family we’ve never met?

C: They live far away! And… I think they have bad reception out there? (I can never get in contact with her when she’s gone…)

P: You’ve never even seen where she lives! Probably because she keeps the ripped-out-hearts of the other guys who proposed to her under her floorboards!

C: Don’t be gross, Pip. I thought you were fine with her?

[Cut to regular style Phillip]

P: I’m fine with her as she is now, because you like her. I don’t want her to live with us. Ever. Besides, we don’t have the space for it

[Cut to Caleb, amused/apologetic/cunning]

C: Well… if we did get married, we’d probably move into a two bedroom. You’d get your own room! That would be pretty great, right?

P: [disembodied] Oh, so this is all for my benefit now? Not because it’s something you want?

C: No, it’s definitely something I want, I just figured… you might like to know some positives for you, to see how it’s good for both of us. Oh, hey, you wouldn’t be alone at home so often.

P: I don’t want company if it’s her. And I don’t need a babysitter—geeze, this is about the field trip, isn’t it?!

C: It’s not! Hey, look, I already talked to Manny about it, and he doesn’t think it’s a bad idea, in case an outside opinion helps. I know it’s a weird new thing to think about. But I’m not going to jump in right away, I promise. Let’s give the idea a couple of days to simmer, give you some time to get used to it, and—

[Cut to Phillip, who’s stood up abruptly]

P: It doesn’t need to simmer! I’m not okay with this! I will never be okay with you marrying her, even if everyone in the world thought you should!

[Cut to Caleb, who looks hurt and annoyed]

C: Oh, yeah? Even if your “friends” dared you to be okay with it? [his face immediately drops]

[Cut to upset Phillip whirling around]

[Cut to Phillip running out the door of the café while Caleb stands in the door, reaching towards him]

C: Phillip, wait!

[Phillip is gone from frame, and Caleb pinches his nose]

C: …Shit.

[Phillip runs through Gravesfield, upset]

Phillip: He can’t marry her, he can’t, he can’t, he can’t!

[He finally stops near the old, abandoned house, hiding behind a tree and clutching his head]

P: Ohhhhhh what was I thinking, storming out like that? Having a screaming match in public like a toddler? What if the guys find out? Stupid, stupid, stup—

[Phillip hears a rustling sound]

P: What…?

[he peers around the tree to see Evelyn with a big bag, looking around, very suspicious. Phillip gets a lightbulb moment]

P: Oh, I knew she was shady! I knew it!

[Buzz from his pocket]

Text from Caleb reads: Pip, please come home. We can talk about it later, just please stay safe until I can get to you.

[Phillip sneaks up to the house, peering inside holding his phone]

P: I just have to get proof she’s breaking the law, and then Caleb won’t even think about letting her in the house, let alone marrying her! Evidence, then home, then…

[Cut to the portal door]

P: [disembodied] What the…

[Manny and Camila are taking a walk through the neighborhood. Suddenly, Manny pricks up, taking a turn down to the old house, leaving Camilla behind]

Manny: Hey, Phillip what are you doing out—

[Cut to the inside of the house. Phillip glances behind him at Manny’s call, then pushes forward through the portal, which closes behind him just as Manny reaches the house]

M: …here…

[Camilla catches up]

Camilla: What’s going on?

M: [confused] I thought I saw…

[Cut to empty room]

M: [disembodied] …ah, never mind. I’m sure it’s nothing.

[Cut to Phillip, absolutely flabbergasted. Wide shot of the Isles, Phillip very small in it]

P: Where the HELL am I?

[End Part 3]

[End of Episode 1]

[detective-inspector-her]

So y'all remember this?

Vile, staring at Valkyrie in a cage: …Why is she in a cage? Mevolent: Because she growled at me.

Vile: How does that even work? Valkyrie, mocking them: hOw dO yOu UsE a cOmPUteR aNd KnOw wHaTS GoiNg oN iT DoEsNt mAke SeNSe?! Vile: Your face doesnt make sense.

Baron: If Mevolent is really a vampire, those wooden stakes will kill him! Valkyrie: But if they’re not a vampire, those wooden stakes will kill him!

Valkyrie: Prepare to feel really bad about yourself. Baron: I’ve been prepared for that my entire life. Valkyrie: Baron: Or something mean about you.

Baron: Alright Vile, Serpine. Let's go over this one more time. Baron: If something breaks? Vile: We try to fix it before Mevolent returns. Baron: If it doesn't work? Serpine: We blame the girl. Valkyrie: Seriously guys, what the hell?!

Serpine: Well, it rained today, but as a whole it's been warmer than it was last week. Valkyrie: Why does it seem like every time you talk to us, you end up talking about the weather? Is your life so unimaginably dull that you can't think of any events in your life to describe that might be more interesting than the weather? Let's think of something for you to talk about other than the weather. I mean, we barely even know anything about you, other than where you live. Valkyrie: Let's start there. What do you do for a living? Serpine: I'm a general.

Vile: What’s your greatest weakness? Serpine: Interpreting the semantics of a question, but ignoring the pragmatics. Vile: Could you give an example? Serpine: Yes, I could.

Valkyrie: I may be stupid. The generals: … Valkyrie: Oh, did you think I was going to finish that sentence?

Vile: I wasn’t that out of it. Valkyrie: You coloured my face with a highlighter because you said I was important. Vile: BECAUSE YOU ARE!

Valkyrie: I made this friendship bracelet for you. Vile: You know, I’m not really a jewelry person. Valkyrie: You don’t have to wear… Vile: No, I’m gonna wear it forever. Back off.

Mevolent: My only talent is being stress. Valkyrie: Don't you mean stressed? Mevolent: No.

Baron: Guess what number I’m thinking of. Serpine: 420? Baron: No, that’s really immature of you. Someone else guess, and please take this seriously. Valkyrie: 69. Baron: Yeah it was 69.

Serpine: I came out here to attack people and I'm honestly having such a good time right now.

Valkyrie: I typed "bitch" into my GPS and guess what? I'm in your driveway. Serpine: Valkyrie: Vroom vroom, come out already.

Valkyrie: I’m quick at math. Baron: Ok, what’s 38 times 76? Valkyrie: 24. Baron: That wasn’t even close. Valkyrie: But it was quick.

Valkyrie: holds a gun out to Baron Baron: I-I don't believe in guns. Valkyrie: Well, trust me, they're very real. Now take it.

Baron: I think Mevolent is in trouble. Valkyrie: Alright. Struggling to give a fuck, if I’m honest.

Vile: Hey, Valkyrie, how are you doing? Valkyrie: I have hit my head three times, I’ve lost my favourite shirt and forgot my bag at school. Vile: Oh, ok! That’s pretty good! Valkyrie: Yup! Vile: I lost my phone and my cat died. Valkyrie: Hey, not bad compared to last week. Vile: I know right! Baron: Are they okay? Serpine: I don’t think they are.

------- This part is set around Playing With Fire 1 is Baron from Dimension X, the other is the normal Baron that even less people remember.

Valkyrie: on the phone with Baron 1 I can’t talk right now, I’m doing hot girl shit. Baron 1: You’re pulling Oreos apart and saving off the frosting to make a mega Oreo, aren’t you. Valkyrie: Maybe.

Vile: I'm trying to juggle family life and work life but I can't seem to find a balance. What do you suggest I do to keep everyone happy? Serpine, deadpan: Quit your job, kill your family.

Vile: Valkyrie, why are you standing in front of the fan? Valkyrie: I’m waiting for Baron to look into the window when he come home. When the fan is blowing on me, I look like a fancy supermodel. Vile: You want Baron to think you’re a supermodel? Valkyrie: Giving him this is the least I can do. It’ll probably be the best part of his walk! Vile, sarcastically: You’re selfless. Valkyrie: Thank you for noticing.

Valkyrie: Can we go out to get icecream? Baron 1: Did you ask Vile? Valkyrie: He said no. Baron 1: Then why did you ask me? Valkyrie: He's not the boss of you. Baron 1, internally: It's a trap, it's a trap, it's a trap.

Mevolent: Can you be serious for five minutes? Valkyrie: My record is four, but I think I can do it.

[liberationwasboundtohappen]

Headcanons -- Proposals

Boundshipping -- Bakura does a close recreation of how his father asked his mother to marry him (at least, based on the stories that he remembers): he saves up to buy a house, and tells Yuugi that he'd like to share his home with him for the rest of his life. Needless to say, Yuugi cries, says yes, and insists that they have multiple game rooms to fit their respective collections. In that order. Kleptoshipping -- Bakura kind of just stuck an engagement ring on Yuugi's finger when he was sleeping one night, and when Yuugi questioned the ring, he sneered at him: "What, am I not allowed to stake my claim on what's mine?" Yuugi responds by doing the same thing with Bakura a week or so later. Bakura acts like he doesn't notice or care, but he preens and smiles at it when he thinks nobody's looking. Fragileshipping -- Atem, openly nervous and far more awkward than one would expect, asks Ryou to go to KaibaLand with him to test out the new dueling arena. He gives Ryou a deck that he "wants him to try", though the poor guy nearly fumbles handing it to him at least twice. Ryou thinks something's up, but doesn't say anything...until he realizes the deck Atem gave him was a custom variant on the Destiny board/occult deck that Bakura used at battle city. A wedding-themed variant, specifically. The win condition involved the player to spell out the words: "I WILL". The moment Ryou realized what was going on, he hopped off the platform, ran to Atem, and pulled him into a kiss so long and passionate that they both had to break for air. ...Before accepting with a cheeky "I will," of course. Liberashipping -- Marik had a really elaborate proposal planned. He was going to take Yuugi on a moonlight picnic, wait until the moon was brightest and then propose with all of the debonair charm of a romance novel hero. But then...right when Marik was about to propose... Yuugi went down on one knee. "Marik Ishtar," he said, "Would you do me the honor of letting me be your wings, and take your family name?" Marik wasn't sure whether to laugh at how cheesy that was or cry because Yuugi wanted to become an Ishtar. He did both. Riftshipping -- Polygamy isn't exactly legal, but a little thing like that wouldn't stop TKB from asking his partners to be with him forever. ...At least, that's what he thought, but Ryou and Yuugi beat him to the punch. They set up a private 'wedding' in their shared house for the three of them, complete with dancing, vows, and a "Honeymoon suite" that Ryou spent at least a month making the props for. Then they went on their actual honeymoon: A several-month long trip around the world (paid for by Kaiba as his 'wedding' present to three of his most useful employees AND NOTHING ELSE) where they played games, tasted new foods, and enjoyed their time spent with each other.

[angelthemanspanker]

I've been trying to think of possible consequences for Sunnydale if the gang go off to have homoerotic hijinks at the Hyperion Hotel and its really reminding me what a shit job season 7 did of building the tension lmao

Spiral in season 5 is like. The pinnacle of Its All Too Much and its one of my favourites because of it because DAMN do the threats keep piling up in terrifyingly organic ways. Tara's down, Glory knows about Dawn and is coming the second Ben loses control again, the knights are right behind us and Spike can't fight them because of the chip, Giles just took a fucking spear to the gut and Buffy called BEN for help! A perfectly logical move for her to make because she doesn't know what we know! I was literally more scared and stressed for these fictional characters than I thought possible because we knew what was at stake: Dawn, and by extension Buffy's last family and lets be honest she would never have gotten over it if she'd lost Dawn, and that's before this episode tells us that Dawn's painful death will take everyone else with her. Even if you don't care about Dawn (I love her so. More stress) the consequences for everyone would be so dire if they fail that it really makes you cling to your stuffed animal when the final fight finally comes

Meanwhile in season 7 Buffy says she's in the fight of her life, specifically saying that she WOULD sacrifice Dawn to save the day this time and implicitly saying the threat is worse now than it was with Glory. She says this, btw, while fighting a lovely fledgling vamp named Richard because she and Giles had time to kill. Yknow there was an empty hour on the timetable between Talk About How Scary The First Is and Something Something Spuffy so why don't we go out and literally look for something to fight. While we talk about how this is The Fight Of Our Lives. Hey Giles did you record Friends because the guys really wanna see how this Joey/Rachel thing pans out when we get home. Where we're in much peril, obviously. The First sometimes attacks twice in a month. Remember when Glory found and punched a hole in Willow's dorm building just because she was pissed that Willow spat at her and when she found out Dawn was the Key we literally could not stop running until we got away which we didn't bc she took Dawn. That pales in comparison to this. When do you want me to kill Richard btw

[despazito]

wish script doctor bc i feel like this movie could've been a lot stronger with some things altered. like i dont even think it needs a complete story overhaul, a handful of changes could make it much tighter imo

asha does not live so close to central rosas, but a village on the outskirts of the kingdom, and this will be her first time venturing to see the mythical king in person.

not all wishes are equal in this magic system. selfish and shallow wishes do not contain much power, but noble and selfless wishes are very strong. (also i don't see the point of forgetting your wish you made?)

the grandad was animated way too in shape for 100 years old, make him weaker and frail. hell, put him on his death bed to raise the stakes.

perhaps have asha's grandfather be an esteemed but very humble scholar or medicine healer whose dying wish is to establish a library or hospital for the local people (or something). asha believes that if she meets with king magnifico herself, she can convince him to grant her grandfathers' wish. she believes she can do this because an old childhood friend of hers now works in the castle as his aid.

asha travels to rosas and meets her friend dahlia. expecting her to be very close to the king, dahlia sheepishly admits to being a much lower ranked servant who hardly ever sees the king in person, but still sneaks asha in to show her around the castle because she's such a fan of magnifico + introduce asha to all her friends/coworkers.

have dahlia be the only primary friend, relegate the rest of the lot to the background. we don't need much time with them all, use it to strengthen other relationships.

asha attends a wish granting ceremony and magnifico does not grant grandad's wish. after the event asha uses a sneaky corridor that she just learnt to ambush magnifico and plead her case to him. away from the crowd he goes mask off and tells her to fuck off, asha narrowly escapes his guards.

defeated, she sings her I Wish song and we meet the star.

instead of the short guy, have valentino play the grouchy foil. valentino hates the star, and they have slapstick together. hell if disney wants to be meta, have him resent the star for turning him into a funny talking animal or something.

dahlia is the only one who believes asha when she tells her about meeting the wishing star. the other friends think she's some kind of lunatic from out of town until they see the star for themselves.

have queen amaya be equally self absorbed as king magnifico and together act as an evil couple like in the concept art. she enjoys the luxury of being a self-made monarch and throws lavish balls and pampers her shitty cats or something. make them evil and campy together like mink stole and david lochary in a john waters film (we've had a villain based on divine, now its their turn)

alternatively, amaya can still have a redemption, but later on in the third act. perhaps she's vain and perfectly content with a certain level of fraud until magnifico crosses a line. have magnifico explain to her long ago that he gets strength from the wishes, but he only culls the shitty wishes bad people make. amaya thinks its reasonable that he crushes the wishes of bad people and people who "deserve" it. but selfish wishes aren't as powerful, and as magnifico begins to crave more and more power, he begins taking more innocent wishes to power himself. maybe he finally crushes the wish of some sick kid or asha's grandfather and that finally snaps amaya into realizing what they're doing has become completely irredeemable. i know disney is allergic to writing romance now so have asha stay single and instead take some time to explore this romantic relationship.

asha & co. defeat magnifico with the power of friendship or whatever, maybe even have the final final part of the battle be between magnifico vs amaya as asha rushes to care for her grandfather after his wish was just crushed. or magnifico goes full magical sorcerer and explodes asha's family home or something

everyone in rosas realizes they don't need magnifico to live their dreams and together (with some pitching in from a now queen-regent amaya) asha is able to build the library/school/hospital/insert public service building her grandad always wanted. amaya hangs the magnifico mirror above her cats' litter boxes. the end

[just-prime]

8 : Oh so boring

The horrifying MCU-ification of the Star Wars universe is in horrific display as 8 episodes lead nowhere but setup.

Before I get to everything else, I do want to say, Ray Stevenson's passing is a true tragedy, and I appreciate the love and care he clearly put into his character. He was the only compelling one, and I shudder to think of how Disney will probably heartlessly recast.

Now, on to the episode

Well, all the leaks that said it was zombies were right, to the surprise of no one. This is the MCU now, we need something more than just a fuck ton of stormtroopers to blow through, we need an undead CGI army.

First off : The Jedi, The Witch, and The Warlord...FUCK OFF FILONI. YOU ARE NOT CUTE.

The show opens with the attempt to lull Legends fans back into a Sion reference for no reason. Also, Thrawn's super baggy pants seem unnecessary, especially since the design in Rebels always has him in perfectly tailored clothes. Nothing during his decade abroad that would have cause the pants to change that drastically, so it just feels like an unnecessary change that is not an attractive look :(

Morgan's power ups make no sense, and as soon as she got them she was going to die. Her eyes had me making a half dozen Supernatural jokes for obvious reasons. The whole "Blade of Talzin" thing is also very dumb given the fact that I assume Mother Talzin would have used every weapon in her arsenal to stop Grievous, and I would think a lightsaber proof sword is on that list.

The entire "Ezra makes himself a new lightsaber" scene filled me rage for a few reasons.

A) Ezra literally just turned down Sabine's offer of the lightsaber for the martial arts force powers which we never see him use again.

B) Huyang knowing about Caleb and Kanan being the same person feels kinda weird to me to be perfectly honest.

C) Ezra's new lightsaber is boring. Full stop. This is the kid who built a gun into his first one, it makes no sense that he'd make one that looks this mediocre.

D) All of Sabine's family dying horrible deaths on Mandalore has always struck me as a cop out. It's just lazy writing to isolate Sabine.

The Stakes

Spoiler alert : THERE ARE NONE

We knew this was going to end in a cliffhanger for a while now, which means none of the main cast was going to die. Morgan has always been a means to an end for Thrawn, not that her loyalty was ever explain...But none of our heroes were gonna bite it (regardless of how I hoped for Huyang to explode) so there were no stakes. Thrawn had to escape, despite the fact that he is weirdly shaken, so he does. Ezra had to get home, so he does. Sabine and Ahsoka are now trapped on some stupid Mortis world??? Okay, pause, I'm getting ahead of myself here...because before that...

Sabine has the Force now

My deepest condolences to anyone who is finding this out from me, but Sabine is offically confirmed and shown to be Force sensitive. Yes it is dumb. Yes it makes no sense. Yes this is something we all saw being foreshadowed from day one, unfortunately. Especially with the playing down of her Mandalorian-ness (she's constantly losing her helmet, her gun accuracy has utterly gone, she barely uses her gauntlets, etc etc) it was obvious that Filoni wanted to do with her, what he was too cowardly to do with Grogu.

Other miscellaneous shit

It turns out that Ahsoka's shuttle is Jedi era...which makes no fucking sense.

The nightsisters being totally on board with the Empire feels like their ability to tell what's going on in the main universe might be a bit sketchy do to the fact that they missed that the guy in charge of the Empire is the one who ordered Dathomir razzed.

100% of the problems that the gang run into would have been solved if Sabine had a fucking jetpack

They pull the "Thrawn knew Anakin" card out of nowhere in the dumbest possible way, which really just goes to show how much FIloni hates the new canon Thrawn books.

Chopper recognizes Ezra (which was rather cute) before Hera does, because he decides to show up on a New Republic cruiser in full Thrawn stormtrooper garb. Also we don't even get a hug between Hera and Ezra.

Shin (because she exists, remember?) who is also stranded now, goes and appears to be taking over the bandit camp we saw earlier. Have no idea where they are taking that...but honestly, good for Shin doing something for her, this seems like a selfcare move.

Now, the ending...Fucking Mortis

So, the final shot we get of Baylan, he is standing on a giant statue of The Father (there is a statue of The Son, and a destroyed statue of The Daughter) pointing out towards something on the horizon.

Back at the hermit crab people camp, Ahsoka and Sabine (and fucking Anakin's ghost, because that's right people, instead of hanging out with his son, Anakin has been just hovering over Ahsoka this whole time apparently) here this chirping, and it's a fucking creepy hyper realistic CGI Morai.

So yeah, that's clearly how all of the trapped characters are going to get off this planet...the World between Worlds. Now, this brings up a fuck ton more questions...Chief of all being how did Ezra not use this to escape years ago???

And I get that Mortis is not everybody's favorite Clone Wars arc. Which is fair. I don't hate it, but I never loved it, and Filoni dragging in the dumbest piece of Force lore that he created is infuriating. ESPECIALLY with this being so obviously aimed at those who've not watched Clone Wars or Rebels. I'm curious to see how much he immediately recons about it, given that it's been his go-to move since before even Mando s3...

I fear they're going to do something like "Bayan is The Father, Ahsoka is The Daughter, and Shin and Sabine have to fight over being The Son" or some stupid bullshit like that.

I'm glad this is the last Filoni property we're getting for a while, since I'm pretty sure he's not involved with Skeleton Crew at all writing-wise.

I am just so happy it's over!

In the meantime, if you are as annoyed at Filoni as I am, spite him by reading the new canon Thrawn books!!! They are really fantastic and give Thrawn a lot of facinating depth, along with having an incredible cast of side characters.

For those of you who are new or just finding me because of my Ahsoka rants, please stick around!!! I'm sure I will be having other annoyed Ahsoka thoughts in the weeks to come as I think back about the full series and about just everything that it's fucked up. Feel free to pop into my ask box if you're curious about my other Star Wars related opinions, I'm more than happy to answer, though know that for the majority of the recent shows, I do not look fondly.

But if you are looking for some vindication on not enjoying recent Star Wars things, then this is the blog for you!!!

[privateanxieties]

forget my mercy, take my blame (chapter 3)

Summary: Returning to previous ways of life always comes with complications. Yours has an attitude and goes by the name of Frank.

Words: 3.1K (canon-typical violence, Frank being a little shit);

PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

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You don't know how many times you've abused the replay button by now, but your thumb returns to it without fail each time the video feed ends — a never ending loop, and it's up to you to break it. But, you know that once you do, you won't be able to sit still. 

And Sam Collins isn't home yet. He's had a busy day. 

You spent the first hour of staking out his place in wonderment. Last week, his life was normal. He was the average point of his demographic, and maybe even doing a little better than could've been expected given his background. He was enrolled in the local community college and had a steady job for three years at the only repairs shop in town. They do a little bit of everything. So does Sam, you suppose. He wakes up without a firearm permit on a Saturday, and that same day robs a bakery three towns away and shoots an old woman in the chest. Versatile guy. 

The second hour — or rather, the first quarter of that second hour — was spent getting his girlfriend out of the house and inadvertently out of his life. All it took was a brief phone call with a sultry greeting by a woman's voice and she stormed off not long after, suitcase in tow. The neighboring houses were next, your supply of knockout gas swiftly depleted on the two families. The use of incapacitating agents with an expiration date four years in the past is dubious at best, and you hope the adverse effects will be limited. It's a good neighborhood with good people, not unlike yours. Neither you, nor him, deserve it. 

Halfway through the third hour, you were done inspecting the inside of his house for weapons and blocking all electronics on a 900-foot radius. Signal jammers are still cheap six years after you've last used one, a discovery that doesn’t surprise you in the slightest. Returning to this kind of life is as easy as it’s always been, a built-in failsafe for all those thinking their path could somehow deviate. You'll have to see about other items, but for now, you're as close to your goal as you can get by yourself. All that's left is for him to come to you, the end of a strict work-home routine he's kept for the past week nearing. Now, you can finally breathe. 

It's strange. You're at ease in a place you're not supposed to be, doing something no sane person does. You're comfortable in a way you haven't been in years. Visiting the range now and then doesn't help— at most, it takes the edge off. There's no satisfaction in putting holes through wood or paper, no success in taking down a target that's meant to be there. That suspicion you've always had can't be ignored anymore. You really aren't made of the same stuff as other people, and you'll never have the life they do. You talked yourself into that fantasy last time, and where did that get you? Back where you started: an injustice happens, it's your fault, and everything unravels. Even if you don't go looking for it, it always finds you. Cryptic words spoken by a gruff voice surface in your memory. 

Once it starts, that shit never ends. It follows you everywhere. Every goddamn place you set foot in.  

Nice. Prophetic, even. 

The man wasn't wrong, on the face of it. Whatever he saw when looking at you that day, he clocked it without hesitation. He witnessed the tell-tale signs of aggression and regret and blistering anger, and he called it out with no pretense or judgment. Although, he was mistaken about one thing: the assumption that it hadn't already started, whatever this is. Your obsession, your curse? God's plan for you, if you believed in that sort of thing? You're not sure why he was trying to prevent you from going down this road back at the bakery. Did he think it would be your first time taking a life? Would he have said anything if he'd known it wasn't? A sigh sinks you further into the only armchair in Sam Collins' living room. 

The replay button disappears under your thumb once more, and you've already memorized every inch of the space displayed on screen, every movement contained within it. The angle providing the best view comes from the camera right above your doormat, one nestled inside the wooden awning. Hazel's head is covered with her favorite scarf, the one her nephew had sent during his travels across India along with a bracelet for you, a sign of gratitude for the care you offered the only relative he had left. His grandmother had told him anecdotes about you, like she told anyone around town who would lend an ear. 

You watch her try to prevent your house from being broken into, or so she thinks. You listen as she tries to shame the man into leaving, and then feel as your phone vibrates with the sound of the gunshot. She falls forward into the arms of her killer, and he drops her like she isn’t worth anything, a weak cry bellowing from the speakers as contact with the floor breaks fragile bone. Her head cracks open and pained moans are muffled into the ground. Wood creaks as rapid footsteps depart from the scene. Hazel's breaths keep coming for seventy-two seconds, and she falls quiet not long before they stop. The replay button taunts with its reincarnation. Your eyes close again, just like the first time you saw it. 

A quarter hour more passes as you sit with your thoughts, and then, things begin to happen. It's almost 1 AM when the rumble of an engine comes to a halt in the driveway, matching what you expect his car, an '09 Subaru Impreza, to sound like after fourteen years of use. Sam’s weekend shift at the new diner is over and he has come home to another night of hypervigilance and paranoia, because today marks one week since he took his first life. You put away the phone and replace it with the suppressed Kimber, the same one you should've used when you first laid eyes on him.

It'll be simple. Clean. You'll air out your grievances and then it'll be over. This isn't like Auckney, and it isn't like Houghton, Roanoke, or Fargo. You aren't pretending you can return to the bakery and your quaint two-bedroom suburban house anymore, dragging out your days until the merry-go-round starts up again. You'll always end up back here, so why expect you'll ever do anything different? You like this. It's something you can do, and do well. If you aren't allowed an alternative, either by design or sheer bad luck, then you'll embrace the only thing that makes sense. This is who you are. It's who you've always been, and you see it clearly now that the fog of domesticity and kindness has dissipated for the final time. So you sit there in the dark, a phantom, because you want him to see too. You want him to wonder if his eyes are playing tricks on him, because reality would be too cruel. You want him to look at you and realize that he's right to feel the weight of what he's done and to glance over his shoulder at every turn. Most of all, you want Sam Collins to know it does follow you, and that for him, it's arrived without delay. 

You're watching the short hallway before the front door, gun propped up against the velvet arm of the chair, a perpendicular line of sight granting the best opening. And then footsteps arrive— not from the entrance, but from the other end of the hallway. Quiet, gentle… expectant. Your eyes snap to in the second before a voice like a rumble fills the room. 

"Didn't I tell you not to do this?" 

One single breath has time to leave you before a man comes into view. You train the gun on him instinctively, knowing you don't have time to get to your feet if he's carrying. 

But, he isn't. He has nothing in either hand, which you can be sure about because he's keeping both palms spread open and level with his head, the same gesture he adopted last time you had a weapon pointing at him. You're rattled, and you aren't so confident it doesn't show. 

How the fuck is he here? 

You run through several common-sense deductions in the brief time it takes him to come to a standstill in the middle of the hallway directly across from you. He's here. He's here , which means he's been following you and every movement you've made for the past week. His question leaves no doubt— he knows what you're here to do. He managed to enter the house without tripping any of your alarms. You don't want to risk it and take your eyes off him, but it's hard to resist the brief glance out the window to your left. You bite the inside of your cheek almost in punishment. It isn't a 2009 Subaru Impreza that's occupying the driveway, but a black tactical van with annex lights mounted overhead and no visible brand insignia. 

He parked in front of the house , and you were so arrogant you didn't even fucking check that the right person had arrived. Your finger caresses the trigger. 

"Don't do that. I'm not here to hurt you." 

Both your eyebrows raise involuntarily. You've yet to take control of your body's reactions, and every second that passes makes it feel like the upper hand is being transferred to him, even if you’re the one holding the gun. While he's standing there in jeans and a button-up, casually looking like he has all the time in the world, you're becoming more and more aware of each moment that led to this fiasco. The way he's watching you without clear intent adds to your ire. He's as calm as can be and you're descending into chaos. It makes you seethe, and you haven't forgotten about the main problem. 

"Where is he?" you ask, jaw so tense your teeth barely unclench. 

Again, you're both on the same page. You don't need to say the name, and he sure as shit doesn't need to pretend he has no idea what you mean. His gaze remains impassive as it devours you. It feels like his eyes are trailing every inch of you, from the tense shoulders to the feet aching to stand, and especially your hands. 

"Told him to take off. Leave town for a while," he says, the tiniest movement suggesting a shrug. 

Your eyes lock on to his with renewed violence. You trigger one shot next to his head, lead embedding in the drywall behind him. Left-side, two inches. 

You can’t accept that the situation isn't in your control anymore, because you aren't able to get over the fact that he didn't even flinch. Instead, his gaze has become even more unbearable, skewering you in place. He's doing everything a person might do to communicate just how unimpressed they are. You don't know how to respond besides letting off another shot. Your breathing is now audible in the otherwise quiet room. Left-side, half an inch. 

"Alright. You feel better now? Want another go?" 

He's mocking you with an amused drawl, threatening your composure even further by pretending to lower his hands. 

"Tell you what— Why don't I just take off a finger?" you sneer at him, unable to sit down any longer and rising to your feet. The living room isn't that large. Only seven or so of his steps would be enough to close the distance between you. 

"Nah. If you were gonna do that, you'd have done it already. You can put that down. If I wanted to hurt you, I would've shot you through the window." 

What he doesn't say is that he could've done it at any time in the past week that you'd been unaware of his presence, and he doesn't say it precisely because he knows you know. Again. The harsh grip on the Kimber is starting to cramp your hand, but you can't relax. 

"Look. I meant what I told you back there. Hell, I spent all week wonderin' what the hell I'm doing, getting involved in shit that's none of my business. Maybe I should've let you do what you feel you have to do. But if you're going to take a life, I'm here to ask you to reconsider . " 

You say nothing, because it's hard to find something to say in response to things you can't believe you're hearing. He's here to make you reconsider. He's arguing from the wrong end of the gun for a man whose only future is death by your hand, and you can't figure out what would motivate him to do such a thing. The question that leaves your lips makes his quirk upwards. 

"Who the fuck are you?" 

"Frank," he answers with a grim smile. "Don't suppose you'll tell me who you are?" 

He's mocking you. Of course. It's not like he doesn't know — just like he's known everything else so far. A bitter scowl fights to take over your features. 

"Hey, Frank ? I'm giving you one minute to tell me where Sam Collins went, and I'm being generous." 

"Wow. Thank you," he says dryly, and you've had just about enough of his attitude. 

"No, really. Remember that trigger itch? What's your plan for when time runs out on it?" 

"Are you a vet?" he counters with his own question, completely ignoring your threat. 

You wonder if you're dealing with some kind of lunatic. His eyes narrow, but his expression remains serene. He hasn't lost an inch of his composure, and yet you feel something lurking beneath that resolute surface. 

"Wha—" 

"Military. D'you ever serve?" he clarifies, and you could swear his voice has changed. There's something imbibing every word of a very simple question, and you don't understand it or why he's even asking at all. 

"What's it matter to you?" you deflect. 

"It matters because that Warrior you're pointin' at me is issued to US Marine Corps only, and unless you served or took it off a dead Marine, ain't no way you'd have one."

It's hard to mask the tension once his words are left to hang in the air between you, and you suddenly become even more aware of how much your arms are aching. You've never played the long game like this, and there's never really been cause for aiming at someone and not shooting. Conversations like this are not part of your life experience, colorful as that may be. Although, they do seem to be part of his. Whoever Frank is, you get the impression he's about as single-minded and relentless as a person could get, and something within you is repelled by the notion of being in his presence. It's the way he exudes restraint and rage in equal measure that twists sharp metal between your ribs and leaves a bitter taste in the mouth. It's his posture, rigid yet somehow at ease, that makes your cheek tingle without the ringing echo of a slap to accompany it. You don't like the way he looks at you. You don't like how familiar it all is. Something spills forward that you have no chance of catching, and the damage is already done. 

"I didn't take it off a dead Marine. A dead Marine left it to me after he blew his brains out with it," you spit out with no preamble, look so poisonous it'd be useful in a bottle. 

His turn comes to say nothing in response to your mindless confession, but he doesn't have to speak in order to reveal exactly what he's thinking. You gather it all from his eyes as he stares you down. 

"I take it he didn't do that out in the field." 

His voice is the roughest you've heard it thus far. Your arms hold in them a deep ache but you don't know how to lower the gun, the very thing that seems to have brought him to you in the first place. He remarked on it the first time you met too. You couldn't have known he recognized its origins.

"Made no difference in his mind where he was," you speak as evenly as you can. "Just like it makes no difference that you're here. I won't reconsider. I don't care where Collins ran off to, or how far he's gotten. He took something from me. There's nowhere he can go where I won't find him."

The words help reinforce your conviction, and they also seem to resonate with him. Either that, or he wasn't very adamant about persuading you to reconsider in the first place, because he isn't showing any signs of annoyance at your declaration. He doesn't reply or refute it in any way. There’s no fight. If anything, he seems passive — not quite defeated, not quite determined to try again. It's all the same to you. Getting away from him and towards your goal is the only thing you care about. Enough time was wasted here. 

You breathe in slowly, and when you look at him next, your mind locks on to a singular path. 

"Frank? Turn around." 

Judging by the crinkling of his eyes, your request amuses him. 

"Gonna shoot me?" he grumbles, lowering his arms another inch. 

"That depends on you. Now, you're going to turn around, walk out that door and get in your van. I want you to drive off into the sunset, never to be seen again. I've no reason to hurt you. But if you get in my way again, I'll have a reason. We clear?" 

His mouth turns up in a half-smile. For perhaps the first time since meeting him, you don't find his expression as condescending as the rest of him. 

"In that case, we might have a problem." 

Your finger caresses the curved edge of the trigger. 

"And why's that?" 

There's fire in his eyes as well as in his words. 

"Because the man you're looking for is in that van. And you should know…" His arms come to rest by his sides. There is a subtle tremor in your own. "His name isn't Collins— it's Huerta . You kill him, and you'll be starting a war."

.

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-to be continued-

A/N: Let me know what you thought of this chapter! From here on out the story will move into different territory and we're going to get into some delicious interactions between Frank and Reader. These two have a lot of issues between them and we'll start seeing some of them👀