#Across from him so he can see me do it - and he'll come investigate and then settle himself in the shadow of my finger

[sysig]

undefined

Look at my handsome boy 💕

[youryanderedaddy]

tw: female reader, captivity, possessive behavior, non - consensual touching, hinted past stalking, hinted non - con, i keep making fairy tale references kfjhks My ko - fi <3

You actually feel calm now, almost at peace - although you can never be truly peaceful in the forest, you guess this is as close as it can get. You flip through the pages of the book, scanning the fireplace with the corner of your eye. It needs more wood, but it still keeps the cottage nice and warm. You tug at your big fluffy sweater - and think about just how domestic, how cozy this scene would be if you couldn't hear his footsteps creeping up behind you. You clear your throat and clutch the book closer to your stomach, trying to ignore him - hoping he'll go away if you pay him no mind. And just like the last few times, he sticks around like mud.

"Are you reading those fairytales again?" Raven calls out mockingly, the click of his tongue teasing your ear. He grasps your shoulders lightly, trying to take a peek at your book from behind the chair. You try to close it, but his hands quickly find your wrists, holding them in place. Now hyper - aware of his chest pressing against your back, you give in and let him look as his body heat spreads to your neck. "Such a pretty illustration, isn't it?" He hums to himself, a fox - like grin ruining his delicate features. When you don't respond, he just keeps going. "The knight kills the monster and rescues the princess." He reads the caption under the drawing, playing curious. "They live happily ever after." He flips the page. "The end." He mouths, averting his gaze.

You clench your fists and try to count to ten before you say something you will regret. You don't know why or how, but just one look at his face is enough to set you off nowadays. And anger is a losing battle - anger has you laying across his knees with your panties in your mouth, muffling your pained cries he likes to pretend are moans as he paints your butt red. So you shut up and bide your time.

"How sweet." The man chuckles with malice, quickly turning towards you just like a snake would curl around an unsuspecting little mouse. "I guess life really imitates art. Just like you and me." He observes with a self-satisfied smirk, reaching to light his cigarette. You hate when he smokes inside the house - the nicotine fume sticks to the walls for hours and you start choking and coughing, but he shows little concern for your heath; not that it's a huge surpirse to you.

"What do you mean?" You raise one eyebrow, hoping to at least take your mind off the nasty, overwhelming smell. If he sees your unease, he doesn't mention it, choosing to inhale even deeper, with his full chest. "You're the pretty damsel in distress." Raven explains calmly, charcoal eyes sinking into your vision like claws. It makes you feel naked, vulnerable - dissected to your very molecule. "And I am your knight." He lets his sharp teeth reflect in the dim light. "I saved you from those pesky insects who kept sulling you." You cringe at the way his tongue piercing drags against his canines. Track - track. "Aren't you glad I removed those obstactles for ya?" He gives you a crooked, sarcastic smile. "I think your hero deserves a little reward for all the trouble he went through just for you."

You blink away the tears as you are forced to remember it all in one breath. The police sirens - the investigation. The blood on your family's threshold. The used condoms hanging on your door for all neighbours to see, and the thousand messages calling you ugly names for months on end.

"You're no hero." You mumble under your breath, digging your nails deep into your palms - desperate to keep your tongue behind your teeth. But he hears you - he always does, and he just nods in agreement, coming close. Coming to take you.

Raven stands before you, hovering over you with one hand on the ashtray and the other tilting your chin up so you'd have no choice but to look at him and him alone. "Perhaps you're right." He admits, taking a puff off his long cigarette and blowing it in your face right after - simply in love with the way your eyes narrow in frustrated defiance as you wave away the thick smoke. "Perhaps I am not the hero, but the monster. The dragon." He laughs to himself, stubbing out the burning fag. You don't know what it is that he finds so funny, but you wish you knew so you could laugh along instead of crying.

He cages you in against the sofa, causing you to press even harder against the soft backrest. The message is clear - you'd let the house consume you before you let him as much as kiss you.

"It fits the story nicely, don't you think?" The man remarks, playing with a strand of your hair gleefuly just like a child would. You assume he derives some sick pleasure from touching you so casually - from caressing you, petting you, holding you. It's not even sexual, but it always shakes you to your core, and maybe for him that's the best part - where you can't go anywhere, but in his arms.

"Huh?" You break from your thoughts, growing confused. "Your analogy." He explains while still all over you. "It makes sense. I fought for you, and I won you fair and square." His eyes light up with the ferocity of a hunter. "I wanted you so I took you like the greedy bastard I am. I have no regrets - and if that makes me a villain, then so be it. I will burn the world down if it means you'd be all mine." His fist wraps around your loose locks, almost gentle, but not quite. There is something unnatural in his smile - you can't help, but imagine blood dripping from his chin. "But there is something your magic tales get wrong." Raven whispers diabolically, snapping his fingers. Everything goes dark - and his coat slips down on the floor.

"W-what?" You ask, shaking like a leaf - both afraid and deadly curious. You try to sharpen your senses, but you remain blind to his shadow - and the way it moves right between your legs, positioning them around his hips. You feel his manhood prod at your pubic bone, and you heart sinks to your stomach. "The ending." Your captor mutters, pushing you on your back, and you curse the electronic chair when it goes all the way down with little fight. "The moment when the cards are on the table..." He all but tears off the first button of your shirt. "And the princess is all alone with the monster. Face to face - with nowhere to go."

His tongue is hot on your neck - you try to push him off, but he pins down your wrists with feral force, growling like a wild beast. "And this time no one is coming to save her."

[luveline]

Hi Jade! Had an idea for a Sirius fic (or poly if that’s something you feel like writing for!) where r loves dogs and animals but gets kinda scared when meeting them (especially large ones) in real life. So Sirius is all sweet with her as padfoot as a way to help her get over her fear. Love you!!! You’re truly such an amazing writer ❤️❤️

thank you, I love you ♡ and thank u for ur request!! —a stray dog befriends you on the way to sirius' flat. fem!reader, 1.3k

You're walking from the costcutters to Sirius' block of flats when you feel as though you're being followed. You look around in a sweep, but can't spot anybody besides a handful of children in the park across the street. 

Feeling weary, you pick up your pace and slide your phone from your pocket. I'm five mins from ur flat, you text. If anything happens, he'll know you were here. 

Childish giggles ride the breeze. You look back over your shoulders to see why, not for any particular reason beyond curiosity, only to see their short fingers pointing and waving at a scruffy black dog trotting behind you. 

You flinch on impulse. He's not an especially scary dog, but his appearance is a surprise. He has no collar, no leash. 

You stop walking, worried he might come closer. You love animals in theory, but you're anxiously disposed. Things that move quickly make you flighty. 

The dog stops a couple of feet from you. His head tilts left, tongue darting out of his mouth. 

"Hi, puppy," you say nervously. 

Like he can understand the irony, he sits down on his back legs and shakes his head, ears flopping from one side to the other. He's a very big dog. 

You frown. He's not cute enough to make you feel confident in approaching him —you've seen how bad some injuries can be from animal attacks. Sirius always tells you to chill out, The chances of that happening to you are so low, doll. You don't have to worry about it every time you see a dog. I'll get you a taser. 

I don't wanna tase a dog, even if it is trying to eat me, you'd said, flabbergasted. 

Sirius laughed at you. I don't know what to tell you, then. I'll just have to go with you everywhere. 

"Bye, puppy," you say, spinning on your heel. 

You walk briskly. The dog follows. You're afraid to turn to check on him, listening to his footsteps on the pavement, the scratch of his nails. He'd chase you if he were going to hurt you, right? 

You turn back around slowly, wondering if he can smell the packet of bacon you'd bought for Sirius' roommate and best friend, James. If you feed it to the dog, James won't want to forgive you (he needs mucho protein, apparently), but he probably will if it's to save yourself from harm. 

You look up from the corner store bag. The dog has laid down and bared his stomach to you, tongue lolled out the side of his mouth and panting. You swear he wiggles his legs to entice you in. 

"Oh, um." You put the bacon back in the bag. "You want a stroke?" you ask gently. 

His tail wags across the pavement. 

The walk to meet him is nerve-wracking. You extend your hand first to let him sniff you, flinching as his head comes up and he investigates your scent. He gives your index finger a quick lick. 

"Are you friendly?" you ask in the same gentle tone as before. "Please don't bite me, okay? My boyfriend, he acts like he's tough," —you extend your hand to the dogs face and stroke his jaw— "and he kind of is, but when I get hurt he goes crazy." You pop your bag down and use your newly freed hand to scratch his tummy tentatively. When he doesn't growl, you give it a good go. "Aw, you're gorgeous. You're not gonna bite, I can see that. Siri was right. He's right about nearly everything." 

The dog curls in toward your hand and starts licking you appreciatively. 

"You're lovely," you praise. "Where's your home? Do you have someone to look after you?" 

He licks you again. It's kind of gross in a cute way, or cute in a gross way. Sometimes when Sirius is feeling disgusting he'll lick a big playful stripe up your neck between kisses, though you have less fear of rabies when that happens. 

"I don't want to make any promises, but I can make you some dinner. Siri's a devoted vegetarian, but his friend treats me like his little meat delivery girl, so he owes me a couple of rashers if you want them." The dog snorts. You giggle happily. "Ew! Don't sneeze on me, handsome, I need to look presentable!" 

The dog tilts his head. You pretend it's quizzical, rubbing his belly enthusiastically. "I want to look pretty for my boy. Might be difficult if I'm covered in mucus, and I need all the help I can get– woah! Holy fu–" 

You fall back on the heels of your hands as the dog jumps into your lap. You push your face into your shoulder in fear, but the dog doesn't hurt you. He snuggles up to your chest and licks at your chin. 

"You're a good boy. Maybe I shouldn't be so scared of doggies after all," you say, sighing with relief. "Good boy. If you come home with me I'll make you some dinner, okay?" 

The dog is remarkably smart. He follows you home and waits at the door, sitting smartly by a potted plant. You race up stairs to Sirius and James' flat and knock on the door.

"Hi," James says, giving you a genial smile as he lets you in. "Sirius isn't home from work yet." 

"Sorry for bursting in on you," you say sheepishly. "I brought your bacon! And I was wondering if I could ask you for a favour." 

James is happy enough to give you some diced chicken he'd been keeping for his meal prep. Which is to say, he'll have to cook more, but he's a nice guy, and thankful that you always ask him if he needs anything before you come over. You rush downstairs again, breathless as you push open the door of the building. 

"Puppy?" you ask. 

"Not my favourite pet name, but I'll take it." 

Sirius stands where you'd left the dog, tucking hair behind his ears. It's standing up every which way. 

"Did you see the dog?" you ask urgently. 

"Nope, just me out here." 

You tip your head back in defeat. "I promised a stray I'd give him something to eat." 

"A stray?" he asks, pulling a bobble from his wrist. He begins scraping bedraggled curls from his face, disarming you with the sight of his tense biceps and his hiked shirt. 

"I'm not sure what kind of dog it was, but it was– it was big." 

"Yeah? Didn't scare you, did it?" he asks in concern. 

You hug James' tupperware to your chest, trying to seem less proud of yourself than you are. Sirius has this way of making you feel like you're a wonder with his eyes alone, dark gaze roaming your face like he knows something you don't. 

He drops his arms to his sides. "I knew you'd be okay. They're not so different from puppies, big dogs. Was he excited?" 

"He let me scratch his tummy." 

"That means he really likes you," Sirius says, holding his hand out for you. You place your hand in his. "We'll keep an eye out for him, alright? You know, I heard dogs like fruit, like, apples and bananas. Maybe you can feed him fruit salad?" 

You preen as he rubs your upper arms together, leading you back to the door, though his comment is puzzling. "You don't think he'd like the chicken?" 

"Nah."

"How do you know?" you ask, bemused.

Sirius looks very sure, bringing your joined hands up to his lips to kiss your ring finger. "Funny feeling." 

[lixzey]

Letters

info: mentions of blood, car accident, foster home, and death

The Eleventh Letter

Timothée Chalamet is one of the most loved actors in the world. He had girls all over the world who love him. But there's one girl, the most special in his eyes. Not that he's biased—or maybe he is, but Y/N made him feel things no other girl ever had. Timothée had dated his fair share of women: Madonna's daughter: Lourdes, Johnny Depp's daughter: Lily-Rose, hell he even dated Kylie Jenner. But none of them compare to Y/N L/N. 

Yes, she was hurting—he couldn't deny that she was broken but Timothée hoped that she was alright and still breathing the same air as him. He wanted to help her or whatever it was she wanted. He didn't understand it, she was just another fan in the eyes of everyone else. Yet, here he was flying half across the continent to find her even if he had no clue whether she was at the address his Private Investigator found or not. It was a huge leap of faith, but he didn't mind. He needed to find her, he needed to let her know that he was listening, he needed to be there for her during her battles. But, what would happen when he finally sees her? Would she be happy?

Would he be devastated? Timothée looked at her picture again. Her beautiful smile, he could've sworn her laugh could light up the whole room. He wanted to run his fingers through her long hair—which made him feel like a creep for wanting to do that to a girl who he'll meet for the very first time. He wondered what it would feel like to have her in his arms. Y/N looked delicate like a flower—and if he'd wrap her in his arms, she would break. But deep down, Timothée knew that wasn't the case. Y/N was strong and brave, like a soldier going into war. Though, he still wanted to comfort her and tell her that everything would be alright and soon daylight will come. 

Timothée closed his wallet and put it back in his pocket. He then reached for the eight unopened letters in his carry on backpack. He took the eleventh letter from the stack, and put the rest back. Timothée gently ripped open the envelope, it was dated August 5th, 2023. 

Dear Timothée, 

Can you keep a secret?

I want to tell you everything. I want to tell you everything so badly, I want you to understand who I am, who I was, and who I'm going to be. 

Well, here it goes. I hope you don't 'betray' me. Who am I kidding? Anyways….

I was ten. I was ten fucking years old when life decided to fuck me up. My parents died in a car accident. I was in that accident, unfortunately, I survived. My mother used her body as a shield to protect me. I was crying loud because I was scared—what kid wouldn't be scared? My mother was bleeding, my father was unconscious, and still my mother was whispering softly in my ear that everything was going to be okay. Everything else was a blur, that's all that I remembered. The next thing I knew, I woke up in the hospital—alone and confused. 

I always ask myself, “Why did it have to be me?” I used to be this happy kid, with a happy family. And now? I'm this broken girl who doesn't know what else to do with her life. 

You might as now call me The Girl Who Lived. Yeah, yeah, I know I quoted Harry Potter.

My parents couldn't have any children. My mother had been told that it was nearly impossible for her to bear a child, but then after years of trying, I was born. 

I was a miracle, their little miracle. I was almost named Miracle, you know. My parents said I brought light into their lives. I made everything in their lives brighter and full of meaning. I was the gift they waited so long for. 

My life was full of love and happiness. I grew up seeing my parents be in love. I always wanted to fall in love like how my parents did, as a kid I thought of their love story as something that came out of a fairytale book. It's kinda cliché, but I loved it. They started out in college as pen pals, it was random really, because my father wasn't supposed to get my mother's letters because they were for someone else, who had the same name as my father. They exchanged letters without my mother knowing that the one who's replying to her letters wasn't the one she really intended. But they fell in love. Yeah, my mom did get mad at my dad for lying, but dad was persistent. He apologized every day for that until they graduated college. After college, they met again at a café where mom worked. Sparks flew, and after two years they got married. After six years, they had me. Ten years later, they died. 

I wish I had died in that accident too. I wouldn't have spent the past eleven years in complete misery. Two days after my parents' funeral, I was sent to a foster home, until my aunt from my father's side could pick me up.

The day my aunt picked me up, my life became hell.

I can't write anymore Tim, fuck. I'm sorry, I just can't write anymore—tears are clouding my vision. I'll tell you more in my next letter, I promise. 

All my love, 

Y/N, The Girl Who Should've Died. 

p.s: sorry for the tear stains.

Timothée stared at the tear stains at the end of the paper—he could feel her pain just by looking at how much her tears stained the paper. He let out a shaky breath, before tucking the letter back in its envelope. He then looked at the remaining seven letters, waiting to be read. Timothée wanted to just teleport to where this girl was, if she was okay or not—he really wanted to hug her tight. This girl, Y/N, went through so much at a young age. He thought about what could possibly have happened when she started to live with her aunt. He assumed that her aunt mistreated her, and he felt a surge of anger course through his veins. How could someone hurt a child who had lost her parents? He wanted to hurt them, hell he wanted to punch someone right then and there on the plane. He was fuming, he was having trouble calming down. If he didn't he'd get arrested, and that won't be good. Timothée took a deep breath and opened his wallet again. The sight of Y/N's smile calmed him down. 

“Y/N, oh Y/N. Why do you make me feel like this?” Timothée muttered, the pad of his thumb caressing the photo as if he was trying to wipe her tears away. Timothée wanted nothing more than to be there for her right now. Before Y/N's letters, he was a normal guy—a normal actor, technically—but Y/N made him travel across the country just to find her, or even get a glimpse of her. There was something, and that something was pulling him in deep—deeper than he had ever been before. 

Who would've thought that Timothée Chalamet would fall in love with a girl who wrote him letters?

@helens3amstuff @gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @lovemelikecrazyiloveyoucrazy @bobthe-turmpetman29

[fairy-writes]

Heyy, i ask for a drabble with Kirishima Ayato, who's s/o is an investigator (i lnow you've written some like this once, that's how the I got the idea) soo she's like fighting againt a ghoul, and at first Ayato only hears the fight so he hurries there, and the other goul is glad to see him, thinking that he'll be saved now, but when Ayato notices that the investigator is his girlfriend, so he doesn't help the ghoul, and just watched as the ghoul gets defeated, and after that, he takes care of his girlfriend, cleaning her wounds and bandaging them.

P. S.: im sorry if this is too specific or a long request, if you don't feel like writing it there's no pressure for you to do so <3

BLOOD AND BRUISES

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Tokyo Ghoul

Pairing(s): Kirishima Ayato x Reader

Word Count: 1k

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Female!Reader, CCG Investigator!Reader, Human!Reader

Notes: Ayato is :re age in this (so around his 20s for those who haven’t finished :re (like me lol))

__________________________________________________________________________

You were late. 

Ayato looked down at his watch and sniffed in annoyance. Today was supposed to be a celebration of your second anniversary, but you weren’t here yet. He’d give you thirty minutes, and then he’d start looking for you. 

Half an hour later, you still weren’t at the restaurant. Not that Ayato was hungry, he had made sure to eat before coming here. Because he wasn’t about to eat human food and make himself sick. 

So, he got up, paid for his coffee, and headed out. His long overcoat was heavy around his shoulders, and he stopped just outside the restaurant. Tilting his head up, he took a deep breath, tasting cigarette smoke and smog and the scent of human blood on his tongue. 

Wait…

Blood?

He took a deeper breath and confirmed it. It was definitely blood. 

Your blood.

So he takes off. Not where he could be seen, of course. No, he walked down an alleyway and leapt up to the rooftops, where he then jumped across them in an attempt to follow your scent. 

Ayato finds you after a mere five minutes of travel. You’re wrapped up in a fight against a ghoul. A lower-level one, but a ghoul nonetheless. Your coat issued to you by the CCG is shredded and stained with blood, but you’re still standing. You hold your quinque tightly in both hands, skin taught across the bone where you grip the weapon until your hands are shaking. 

You really do have quite a beautiful weapon, as morbid as that sounds with how it was made. It’s long and sleek, pulsing different colors of green and blue as opposed to the regular red and purple.

The ghoul notices him instantly. As do you. The only difference is you just relax the tiniest bit. The ghoul flat-out sits on the ground.

“About time backup arrived! I’ve been fighting forever!” The ghoul whines and Ayato cocks an eyebrow, leaning on the side of a building. 

“Whoever said I was backup?” He says, and the ghoul sits upright,

“What do you—”

Your quinque flashes out, quick as a whip, and cuts their throat. The ghoul’s eyes widen, go blank, and roll back into their skull with a dying gurgle. Ayato watches as you flick your wrist, cleaning the blood off your weapon and collapsing it back into your briefcase before looking at him with a tired look. 

“Sorry, I didn’t make it to dinner.” You say before you promptly pass out.

Ayato carries you to your shared apartment, and by the time he adjusts you in his arms to unlock the door, you’re slowly coming to. He can both feel and smell the blood seeping from your body onto his back and through his coat. He carries you on his back, looking for all the world like someone carrying their friend home who had too much to drink. 

“Ayato?” You mumble and shift, letting out a quiet gasp of pain as you move. 

“We’re home.” He says back quietly. He shuts the door behind you both and settles you down on the couch, leaving your side for only a moment to check the house for intruders and get first aid supplies. Under the sink, all the way at the back. You keep it stocked regularly on account of your frequent injuries in the line of duty. 

Sometimes, he wishes you’d quit. Wishes you’d get a regular job like an office worker or something. Hell, he’d even help you find a job if that’s what you wanted! But it wasn’t. You wanted to save people from “bad ghouls.” Ones that would kill for sport or just for fun. You weren’t particularly powerful, but you were cunning and quick. 

In time he had been contemplating your job choices and retrieving the first aid kit; you had managed to take off your coat and unbutton your shirt. The lacerations on your torso were plentiful but, thankfully, not that deep. Though they are bruising, he can tell by how tenderly you move. You’d likely only need some stitches, something he was well versed in now. 

Ayato cracks an ice pack, wraps it in a rag, and presses it to the black eye forming at your right eye. You mumble a “thank you” and hold it there, hissing lightly as the coolness spreads over the injury. 

It isn’t long before the smell of your blood is almost overwhelming, but Ayato pushes through. He stitches you up, applies antiseptic, and, overall, tries to fight the bubbling anger toward himself that he’s feeling. 

To think you had been so close this entire time! He should have come sooner… Maybe you wouldn’t have been hurt. Maybe he could have helped you out more. 

A hand on his face catches him off guard. 

“You’re overthinking things.” You tease gently, and he just huffs. 

“I just worry about you.” He says quietly, and your teasing expression melts into one of pure, unadulterated love. 

“You got to me in time.” You soothe, and he nods, tightening the bandages around your midsection just enough so they wouldn’t hurt but would still stay in place. You stop him once he’s done patching you up and press a kiss to his lips. He returns it greedily, careful not to aggravate your wounds. 

“You gotta apply for workman’s comp.” He says against your mouth, and you just laugh.

“I’ll do that first thing tomorrow morning.” You say as he scoops you up and carries you to bed. 

You fall asleep before Ayato that night, which in and of itself isn’t unusual. He’s a night owl, and you always have to get up early in the morning for work. But it gives him time to sit and think. 

You could’ve died tonight. 

If he hadn’t gotten there and distracted the ghoul…

Ayato shakes his head and looks to the side where you’re sleeping as soundly as your injuries allow. 

You’re alive. Alive and breathing. He should be grateful for that.

He shouldn’t take that for granted. 

[sherlock-is-ace]

You were warned last night... Here are my thoughts and feelings about The Norwood Builder ajcnsj

First of all, an amazing episode for Watson imo. Up until now, we have seen him sort of grow into the detective he is. He's tried to make deductions, has tried to apply Holmes' methods, he has repeated Holmes' findings to clients like it's something he did in an attempt to participate in cases. And he has done this beautifully btw, with the consent and support from Holmes.

But The Norwood Builder is a different story. In this episode you can see how much Watson has grown, how much he has learned from Holmes. Watson is on top of things from the second their client comes in and Holmes does his typical deductions about his job, general living habits and possible health issues. Watson promptly replies to the confused look on McFarlane's face with "Your untidy clothes, sheaf of legal papers, watch chain and your somewhat irregular breathing". This means that Watson made the same observations and possibly got to the same conclusion himself, or at least can now easily and quickly see what Holmes sees. No longer "and how in the world did you guess that?". That in itself is amazing!

This is also the first time Holmes and Watson get separated on a case, each one with their own lead and actually goes somewhere. (Sure, Watson did some solo investigating in The Solitary Cyclist but he did a very bad job, bless him). In fact, in this episode Watson finds a pretty crucial clue that Holmes couldn't find. Mr. Logic was too upset about the case being too hard that he needed Watson to put in the work with a clear head and sit through paperwork until he found something. And he did!

And that leads me to another point that I adore about this episode. Holmes' whole mood. He's happy when he gets the case, he's interested and having fun. But later, it proves to be too complicated and difficult to solve. It frustrates him and before he goes into full depression mode, you can tell how desperate he's becoming to solve thins thing because he starts saying things like "I feel it in my bones" and "All my instincts are one way and all the facts are the other". Very unusual language for the man who can't make bricks without clay...

Which leaves me with another fantastic moment, and back to Watson, he is so kind in this episode. Twice he offers a frustrated Holmes a warm and calming hand.

Firstly by offering to go through Oldacre's bank papers while Holmes clears his head looking for clues outside. Which is a great decision since they both come across very important pieces of information.

But also at Baker Street, when Holmes is too focused, too frustrated, too depressed to eat, his loyal colleague and intimate friend the doctor is there to help. He's kind and patient, he picks up the discarded violin from the floor with such care. He crouches down next to Holmes to kindly ask him to eat. He pours him his tea and presents a plan: "Let's have some breakfast and then go out together and see what we can do." He's not sure how to solve the case either, but he's encouraging and supportive.

"I feel as I shall need your company and moral support today". That's all Watson can offer and that's all Holmes needs :')

This is particularly important to me because Sherlock Holmes can be quite extreme sometimes. He spends a little bit of time without any new cases and suddenly there's no more criminals in London. He finds a case a bit challenging and what if he's lost his talent? What if he'll never be able to solve another case again? (way too relatable Mr. Holmes, I feel attacked). So having a loving friend to reassure him that he can do this, is something that can actually be so personal <3

[captainkirkk]

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.

DC

what goes around by Goldmonger

A civilian accidentally kills the Joker. It’s a confusing time for everybody.

Never Meet Your Heroes by 12pt_timesnewromanfont

Tim’s not snooping, not really. Or, he doesn’t mean to be snooping. But then he hears Superman say the words 'Experiment 13' and he's out of the Cave like a bat out of hell. He has just enough time to tell Kon to get the hell out of dodge before Batman finds him, and a furious Batman is not something he wants to face alone.

Meanwhile, Kon is totally panicking. He, Cassie, and Bart have lost contact with Robin, have cut themselves off from their mentors, and have absolutely no idea what to do. Superman has turned his back on Kon, and the League will always stand with Big Bastard Blue. He's desperate, and Kon only knows of one other person who might give a damn about him.

He'll take what he can get, even if the man is a supervillain on occasion.

let me help you fly this nest by carolinaa

Out causing havoc on date night, Harley notices something's seriously wrong with the new Robin. She's not about to sit idly by and let anyone hurt that tiny kid.

Not even the big, bad Batman.

From Riches to Rags by Vamillepudding

(If Bruce wasn't so busy investigating the Red Hood, he might have realised that, while Jack Drake is in a coma and Tim is grounded from patrol, Drake Industries goes broke. Overnight, the Drakes lose everything, leaving Tim without a cent to his name.

Jason, meanwhile, cannot believe that the Bats haven't noticed yet that something is obviously wrong with the Replacement.)

It’s weird, being poor. At the moment, Tim has precisely eleven dollars to his name. Drake Industries, gone. Their assets, gone. His trust fund, being used to pay for his father’s hospital bills. The house is gone, too. That's okay. Tim is okay. Sometimes, though, he lies awake at night, and he can’t help but wonder. Does Bruce know? He definitely doesn’t, obviously. But, does he?

Just a Moment in Time by Just_A_Poor_Boy

"I am… appreciative.” Damian says slowly. His hand discreetly fists itself in Timothy’s hoodie. Timothy is prone to bolting at the sight of emotional expression and Damian… is grounding himself as best as he can in this moment.

(Just a little glimpse of a moment between Damian and Tim. A bit of drabble to get my writing muscles back in shape.)

ATLA

surrender to the sheer force of the sky by achievingelysium

Half-turned from the door, Zuko looks up. A scarred eye widens, and Zuko reaches for his shirt, pulling it up across his chest.

“Uncle—” he gasps. “You’re here.”

It’s too late. As Zuko draws thin fabric over his chest, Iroh catches a glimpse of what he’s trying to hide. A set of bandages—and a healing wound in the shape of lightning.

(When the war ends, Iroh has only one concern—to see his nephew. Or: Iroh finds out Zuko was hit with lightning in the last Agni Kai.)

eternal and artificial by delectum

Part 1 of Rebel Zuko

After the fateful Agni Kai that changed Zuko’s life, Ozai never gives his son the quest to find the Avatar, banishing him from the Fire Nation with no hope of return. Without a purpose to life, Zuko takes revenge against his father the most spiteful way that he knows how: treason.

The Magnus Archives

Surrender by BeneathSilverStars

Jon doesn’t want to trust his coworkers. He can’t. But after being cursed by a Leitner to obey any command given to him, he might have to.

Clone Wars

Plan Besh by BitterChocolateStars

Dooku Falls too soon. Sidious is there to tempt him away earlier in the timeline. Jango is contracted for the Clone Army ahead of schedule. There is no plan to trick the Jedi into taking command of the Clone army. No trap for them to spring. Sidious steals Force sensitive children to raise along side the clones. When the time comes he will unleash them upon the galaxy. No need to waste time crafting an intricate plot from the heart of the Republic.

The Clones and the people who care for them disagree with Plan Aurek. (See Notes for Plan Besh)

[fractualized]

I finally got around to reading through another classic batjokes story: Lovers & Madmen, which takes place in Batman Confidential #7-12. I highly recommend it, particularly if you are interested in stories about Jack-era Joker. Batman first meets Jack at the tail-end of his first year as Batman, and we get all the batjokes goods, including plenty that aren't evident from the isolated panels that go around. (Plus cameos from aspiring med student Harleen Quinzel and aspiring asylum administrator Jonathan Crane.)

This isn't a full recap, so I hope my rambling will spur you to check it out.

(Beware of gore and suicidal ideations.)

The key thing to know from issue #7 is that Bruce's mission has been going incredibly well. He has been operating for only 42 weeks, and he can feel the city quieting down. He's so proud! So content!

And we can't have that. Enter Jack, goon for hire. Bruce comes across one of his murders and becomes obsessed with how clean the scene is, how little a trail there is to follow. He investigates and investigates and investigates and comes up with nothing to his dismay.

Meanwhile Jack is also having a sad at a bar because there's no challenge or entertainment to his job anymore. :( Luckily a nice server gives him a little pep talk.

Jack does give things another go at a bank robbery, but it's still no fun. He trips the alarm on purpose, but a shootout with the guards is no fun for him either. He's literally in the middle of asking a guard to kill him, when Batman finally shows up.

"He's an idiot. I love him." Nothing like infatuation to restore your will to live. #8 opens with Jack being sure to leave Batman a thank you note before he escapes.

And Jack must see the Bat again, and of course the only way to ensnare him is to commit a series of awful but perfect crimes. And Bruce is infuriated! Here he is taking out his frustrations on a mugger— with Jack watching from afar.

Bruce is just so mad he's been unable to stop Jack, like, "All those books! All that preparation! But crime man keep criming?!"

Batman and Jack next meet at a charity gala planned by Bruce's love interest in this story, Lorna, and boy do things escalate. Jack picks Lorna as his hostage, threatening to shoot her so he can get away, and Bruce ends up grabbing another gun and shooting Jack's gun out of his hand. But then Jack just stabs her good, and while Bruce can't leave her to die, he doesn't just let Jack escape.

Jack isn't even the goddamn Joker yet and Bruce has intentionally given him a Glasgow smile as punishment. And even more insane, is that Jack appears to verbally respond to Bruce's inner monologue.

With Lorna slowly dying in the hospital, Bruce goes to a professional to try to figure out what it is about Jack that makes him seemingly unstoppable— and of course that professional is Jonathan Crane, and his professional opinion is basically, "dude that guy is clearly just insane and you're doomed to fail lol."

Oh yeah? Would an insane man be this untroubled about his face being cut open?

"He'll have to pay for that. Then again… it's nice to feel something." Just summing up Joker's cycling feelings about Batsy in the years to come. lol

And here's the plot point that sticks out to me most, after years of reading Bruce stalwartly refuse to kill Joker, including in other versions of their first meeting:

Bruce has been Batman for less than a year and he's already like, "Fuck it! I give up! This guy stabbed my new girlfriend and made me lose faith in books! He has to die!" In a short time, Jack has burrowed so deep under Bruce's skin that Bruce tosses away the one solid crime-fighting principle he has. It's oddly refreshing??

So Maletesta, who is a crime boss Jack stole from, takes some goons and captures Jack at the doctor's while he's unconscious from surgery. They then take Jack to a pharmaceutical plant, and Maletesta starts beating him while he's still out. Except Jack is actually awake and just kind of bored by the torture attempts and slipping back into ennui. This issue, #10, really goes into Jack's struggle between wanting to live but not feeling there's anything worth living for.

As you can see, Jack does eventually escape his bonds to fight back. As he and Maletesta fight, they end up in the bottom of the vat.

Meanwhile, Bruce is being quietly insane.

Bruce. Bruce, what the fuck are you talking about. I have to unspool this because like, Bruce knows Jack has killed lots of people. But what he's fretting about is the ways Jack's madness has metaphysically harmed the world, maybe, and thinking, "I know he's caused so much damage, but what about the damage to my moral integrity?!" and putting that above all the material harm. I know Bruce already does this all the time, but it feels so much more explicit here, and it gets worse, and just... Sir. Sir. You are not well.

So Bruce arrives at the plant too late to save Jack but just in time to see him get doused in chemicals.

Jack spends more time thinking on whether or not he wants to survive, but we know how this goes.

Jack ends up on the riverbank, and there's a wholesome edge to his psychotic break.

And so begins the criminal career of… the March Hare!

Kidding. The issue ends there, with Bruce lamenting that his change of heart came too late, that even if Jack is still alive, something awful has happened.

But then when issue #11 starts, Bruce finds he's not sure what he saw on the bank, if anyone. He gives chase but…

But if Jack is still alive, then Bruce's soul may be intact. He keeps searching well into the day, but finds nothing.

When he returns home, though, he learns that Lorna will survive after all. He immediately heads to the hospital, to "the only good news in the world."

Ah, Bruce is finally anchoring himself to the bedside of his ladylove. After he colluded to get someone murdered and seemingly succeeded. And it's the fear of what that says about him that sent him to Lorna. Almost like he's turning to her less because of his affection and more to hide from his moral failure. Romance!

Jack does soon appear in his new clown persona, and Bruce keeps his word and refuses to leave the hospital despite the multiple horrors Joker commits. Joker is not happy that Batman is MIA.

Some idiot Joker's captured feels it's necessary to inform him that Batman tried to have him killed, and of course Batman doesn't care. Joker scoffs, because Batman doesn't kill.

Faith restored!

Back at the hospital, Alfred verbally kicks Bruce in the ass, pointing out that committing himself to an unconscious Lorna isn't helping anyone.

Bruce finally suits up to respond to the bat signal, but it turns out Gordon isn't the one who lit it.

My Telltale-loving ass like:

In issue #12, their fight commences, and after some mutual stabbing, we get Joker's real plan.

It's like a dozen Lornas! Only this time Joker is telling Batman to come at him instead of trying to escape, and instead of taking action, Bruce suddenly feels overwhelmed.

Joker says something similar earlier about Gothamites. They're "poor sickies" who can't even see the bunny on the moon. They need the same "medicine" that Joker got to see the big picture, to find true joy. Of course he wants to do that for Batman too!

But once Batman shakes the poison off and starts rescuing the civilians, Joker is also pretty cool with killing him.

Bruce survives, as expected, and Joker isn't really upset about it.

And destined to do this forever, you might say!

Joker goes on to say that Batman gave him a purpose, a world of color to live for. Bruce reiterates that Joker is murdering people and asks why. Joker asks why Batman saves them.

(This panel goes right to left, btw.)

Joker's got a ways to fall, so Bruce has time to contemplate letting him die. "Let it happen… Let chaos prevail for the six more seconds it will take for madman to meet pavement… or the rest of my life will be spent picking up the pieces."

Bruce has already had a moral crisis about what it would mean for his soul if he let Joker die. In the end, he simply doesn't accept there's a meaningful difference between someone who takes a life for personal gain and himself taking a life to prevent the suffering of others. The vat is the same as his parents' graves. Letting Joker hit the ground is the same as pulling a trigger. Bruce chooses Joker over countless future victims. He choose Joker over Lorna, who he'll soon break up with at the hospital, weaponizing the carelessness of his socialite persona. Bruce decides that, amongst all options, taking responsibility for the monster he created means spending his life picking up the pieces.

And he immediately accepts that fact, what's to come. Gordon talks to Batman about the total dead, saying, "Would've been worse without you," and Bruce responds, "Don't be so sure." Don't be so sure today and for the decades to come, because Bruce believes that if that clown dies, then so does his own soul.

Joker sees that future too, and he is delighted!

Interesting detail, the Jack and King visible in the hat, side by side. Brings to mind how not too many years later, Snyder will have Joker crown his Bat King.

So there's Lovers & Madmen. Again, much more goes on in this story, particularly Jack's suicidal ideations and how he links the "enlightenment" Batman bestowed upon him to his contempt for regular people and his need to separate himself from them (and reconciling that with a good deed he does for a future henchgirl). The issues are collected into one book, and if you enjoyed this post, I encourage you to pick it up.

[thoselethalarts]

Hi! absolutely love your ocs<3

How do they see the prefect? Before or after the overblots of their dorms

Just for being so darn sweet to me you can have a bit of both, bestie 😘

How Do They See The Prefect?

(WARNING! The following post features spoilers for the endings of all seven major storyline chapters of TWST. Read on at your own risk!)

Matt is vaguely interested in the prefect, due to them being from another world and all, but he won't go out of his way to really interact with them of his own accord. If they come to him first he'll be friendly enough, but he doesn't care about them enough to seek them out otherwise. He thinks getting close to the prefect is a waste of time since in the end they'll likely never see each other again.

He respects their ability to survive the onslaught that was Riddle's overblot in Chapter 1, especially considering how powerful of a mage he is even by NRC standards. As he's usually hanging around by Marcus's side, you'll see the two of them in pairs more often than not. If Marcus chooses to gravitate towards you, Matt will follow shortly after.

Kaz thinks the prefect is interesting! To him, part of his time spent at Night Raven College is about making memories that he wouldn't get the chance to make anyways. Meet people he otherwise would never meet, try things he'd never get to try, and learn things he'd never get to learn. With the prefect however he sees things differently. He wonders if they will find a chance to leave, or if they'll stay in Twisted Wonderland forever, and what will happen to their relationship when the end finally comes.

He does worry a bit for their safety, especially after the events of Leona's overblot in Chapter 2. He starts to feel a bigger drive to look after them especially after these events, much like Marcus does. He hopes one day the two of them can see each other part ways amicably, but they'll have to live that long first before they do!

Marcus feels a fierce obligation to protect the prefect, purely because they're from another world. He would feel miserable if they would end up dying before getting the opportunity to return back to where they came, so he's very much interested in helping them find out how they got to Twisted Wonderland and how to make it back home. If they ever need a helping hand, he'll be glad to be that for them. Being the de-facto leader of his friend group, that also means they get the assistance of Matt and Kazuo as well.

His desire to protect the prefect and align with them only becomes stronger with each overblot. He's impressed by their ability to escape potential death and overcome the deadly challenges frequently being presented to them, but he knows that being magicless in a world full of magical assholes hellbent on destruction is a dangerous existence to live.

Nyx doesn't particularly care about the prefect in the slightest. He has more pressing things to be concerned about, like his schoolwork and his personal relationships. He's interested in the fact that they came from another world, but doesn't care enough to investigate it with them. In fact, he'd rather not get involved with them at all. He's usually too reserved to go out of his way to hold a proper conversation with them, and would rather just be left alone to his own friends and devices.

During the overblot of Chapter 4, he was the only person in his dorm that was able to escape Jamil's wrath by leaving NRC before he began to exact his plan. He heard about what happened in his dorm only after he got back, and was rather surprised to hear about them being able to stand up to Jamil despite everything. He seems more weary around them after this, and has made a mental note of their capabilities, especially with regards to plans he's making of his own before VDC is able to come into full swing across the school...

Stahli's rather neutral on his opinion of the prefect, but he's friendly to everybody so he's going to be friendly to them too! Rest assured, if they're ever in Pomefiore this skunkboy will be glad to see them. He will probably try and enlist them as a taste tester for whatever obscure recipe he's making this week, so hopefully they like the free food even if there's a 50/50 chance of it being something weird.

Chapter 5's overblot was something that took everyone by surprise, but significantly less so for Stahli. Perhaps it's his interest in fortune telling spoiling the future for him, but he seemed to know some kind of doom lingered in the future. Rather than fussing about it or being panicked, however, he would occasionally nudge the prefect in warning during the lead up to VDC to help guide them toward a path of greater safety.

Phobos doesn't give a shit about the prefect at all, but to be fair he doesn't give a shit about most people around him. He's not really interested in becoming closer to them, but he's not going to push them away if they stay low on his annoyance meter. He only offers to help them with anything if they pay him up front. He doesn't do any work for free unless he really likes you.

Phobos's interest in getting involved with S.T.Y.X. during the events of Chapter 6 are very minimal, but he can have a big role depending on how the prefect interacts with him. He can easily track down Idia's location even without Rook's help, and he's very much interested in learning more about the Isle of Woe as a whole. He doesn't actually care about helping bring anybody back from S.T.Y.X. though. You'd have to make it worth his while to keep helping you delve into the depths of Tartarus and fight against the freshly overblotted Idia and Ortho.

Vantablack is very interested in the prefect and wants to know everything about them. Who are they, exactly? Where did they come from? How did they get to Twisted Wonderland? Does the crushing fear of possibly losing everything connected to their old life haunt them? What was their homeworld like? Vantablack is going to bother them frequently, and as part of the first year squad they want it to be known that the prefect can rely on them for anything and everything. Whether or not you can actually trust them, however, is to your discretion.

Despite everything, if there's one thing you can always count on: it's that Vantablack HATES Malleus and would love nothing more than the chance to knock him down a couple pegs. They hate the fact that he's worshiped and revered so highly when they aren't, and wants desperately to beat him and become the next dorm head of Diasomnia. Needless to say, the prefect has their full support in helping stop Malleus's overblot during the events of Chapter 7.

[sixty-silver-wishes]

the concept of caligari as a character is so interesting to me because he seems like a compilation of multiple characters all rolled into one with the weirdest assortment of traits, but all of them make perfect sense when you consider what he represents. because like. he's a carnie/asylum director/murderer who kins a serial killer and keeps a guy in a box. but also he represents abusive authority structures, and from that angle, all those components of his character make sense? and I kinda talked about this before but I really want to talk about caligari as a character from an intersectional lens, and how he works within the film. I kind of wish more interpretations took this angle with him, because there's a lot to explore than just "creepy weird silent movie villain." so I want to get into the various levels of abuse he represents, and how those manifest into one character.

caligari is best understood as a symbol. while the rest of the central characters in the film have been assigned various symbolic interpretations across readings, especially when it comes to tcodc as a postwar allegory, none of them are read as consistently as he is when it comes to such interpretations. every action he takes within the film is done with the means of establishing his power over others, and the ending in which he is overthrown has proven to be the most controversial element of the film, leading to the scene in which francis is revealed to be an asylum patient due to the idea that this ending was too radical, to the chagrin of the screenwriters. (I myself think this ending does not diminish the original intent, but this comes down to my own interpretation.) the way his power manifests is demonstrated in his interactions with other characters, the positions he holds, and yes, his potential insecurities. when we peel back the layers of exaggerated silent-film camp, it's easy to read him as someone extremely petty and immature, with no real power of his own, and creates the illusion of power by hiding behind people who cannot challenge him.

so, let's start with this first element of caligari as carnival showman. while at the fair, he appears to take on a completely different persona than in the clerk's office. his movements are broad and showy, as opposed to the angular, aggressive gestures in the scene in which he was introduced. he does not scowl here, but rather smiles in sinister lighting. he captivates an audience, and one person in particular- alan- is marked for death. this is also where he displays cesare, who we first hear referred to as a "spectacle." the film portrays cesare as an "un-person" of sorts; he has been completely and thoroughly objectified, and the camera presents him to the audience as such. in the famous close-up shot where we see him open his eyes, we too are participating in the spectacle- and therefore are spellbound by caligari's display. by participating in the role of showman, caligari is establishing his authority over his audience, and of course, cesare; caligari calls himself his "master" and presents him in the box. the audience is attentive to him; they listen to what he has to say, and are intrigued by the spectacle he creates. as he is controlling cesare to whatever degree, when cesare tells alan he'll die at dawn, caligari is therefore deciding that he will die, as well as how and when this will happen. and when we see francis lead alan away from the tent, caligari can be seen putting a hand on cesare- making this controlling gesture directly in front of his audience. he maintains his power through complicity- not just from cesare, but from the people around them.

nobody in the film denies cesare's "un-person" status or attempts to humanize him, and we see other authority figures participate in his dehumanization- in the narrative, giving caligari permission to do whatever he wants with him. when francis and dr. olsen conduct their investigation, they show no concern that caligari is keeping an unconscious human being in a box offstage. they immediately leave once the wrong suspect has been caught, and caligari laughs in triumph- they didn't catch him as the murderer, but they did see how he was treating cesare and did nothing about it, therefore allowing him to get away with his actions. and when we see cesare first brought into the asylum by the other doctors, they watch with disgust as caligari immediately begins handling him, but still obey his command to leave him alone with a vulnerable patient without question. one could argue that caligari is able to commit murder because nobody bothers to consider cesare's humanity, especially those affiliated with the police, and with those in caligari's employ. caligari forces passivity and inaction onto cesare, but these other authority figures are complicit by choice.

while caligari may function as a character who establishes control over others, we see an interesting situation in which he's not in control in the clerk's office. we see how furious he is to be so much as inconvenienced- he mocks the staff with exaggerated gestures of sarcastic deference, and gives a worker his card when he tells him to wait, as if expecting simply introducing himself as "doctor caligari" will give him the authority to do whatever he wants, even if the worker has no clue who the hell he is. here we see he's entitled, petty, and can't stand anyone being in a position above him- the clerk never tells him that he can't set up his exhibition; he just tells him to wait; it's carnival season and he's busy (and caligari came in demanding a permit during the fair instead of in advance- the nerve!). caligari is left seething in the corner in what I consider to be the film's one comedic moment, simply because he has to wait a few minutes. and then he has the town clerk killed, because that's obviously the logical thing to do in that situation. he doesn't want his authority questioned, and overcompensates for his insecurity through violent gestures.

it's particularly fascinating to me how caligari never targets francis, despite the fact that francis is the main character. instead, he goes after both of his friends, with no explicit motivation. when looking at caligari as murderer, it's important to note some specific details- he kills people in their sleep, he commits murders via cesare, who is also asleep, and he strives to emulate a previous murderer, also called "caligari" (who I'll just be calling "caligari prime" for the sake of clarity). if his victims are asleep, they cannot pose a threat, and because cesare is asleep, he cannot challenge caligari, either. I find it especially interesting that caligari hides behind such a dualistic character as cesare for his crimes, and this is where the intersectional aspect comes in. cesare, due to his somewhat androgynous presentation, can be read as queercoded, as can the nature of the (albeit nonconsensual) relationship that caligari forces upon him. he can also be read as disabled, due to both the destruction of his psyche under caligari and the sleep disorders he is shown to possess prior to his conditioning. regardless, from either angle, we see caligari in a dominant position over him, whether as a weapon or as his mental patient. he takes possession over a character with associations to marginalization and uses him to harm others, because he is not able to challenge him. caligari has no power without him; he cannot even be "caligari" without cesare. he appears to be powerful and a threat, but establishes this power over people who are already vulnerable- hence why his position as an asylum director fits well into this symbolism.

we can also take that intersectionality a step further and consider his interaction with jane, the only central female character in the story. as such, she represents femininity in general within the film. of course, we see her sought after by everyone- although notably without showing desire, herself. but while francis and alan at least have the decency to uphold a healthy dynamic between them- agreeing to let her choose and to remain friends regardless- caligari is responsible for the fact that she is stripped of choice within the story, and is punished for the choices she does make. by killing alan, caligari ensures that she can no longer choose between him and francis (who then automatically sees her as his fiancee? francis I love you but. come on), and when she does make a choice to be an active participant in the story, caligari leads her into his tent, scares her off, and attempts to have her killed. there's something clearly predatory about his actions when they interact- his leering gaze, the luring gestures he makes to her, and of course, his expression of pleasure when she reacts with fear and discomfort. and not to harp on the fact that I see her and cesare as parallels, but in this scene, she is likewise made into a spectacle- we get a similar close-up shot of her frightened expression and wide eyes, and when we see her afraid, she turns directly towards the camera before running out. there's been a ton of freudian analyses of this scene (I never want to read the words "he gives her a private showing of his erect somnambulist" ever again, thank you), but I think it's easy to interpret the pleasure caligari gets from this interaction in a similar way to the pleasure he gets when exploiting and handling cesare- potentially of the erotic variety. this is because in this case, he is establishing power once again through a power dynamic, in this case, a patriarchal one, over a woman- and not just any woman, but the one the protagonist also desires, and does not show desire herself. (side note- coming from an asexual woman, this scene carries a particular weight when viewed from that angle!)

and of course, we also have caligari's desire to "become caligari," which I find to be a surprisingly relevant character trait, and one that perfectly fits the kind of character that he is. he does not only want to figure out if what "caligari prime" did was possible, but also to literally become him- by assuming his name, actions, methods of murder, and to force someone else into the position of "cesare"- also a character in the legend he becomes fascinated by. perhaps we can interpret this as perpetrating the cycle of violence, but we can also look at caligari's fascination with "caligari prime" and how that factors into his symbolic role. it's hard not to think of how those who desire power over others find idols and role models to emulate, whether they be historical figures or fictional characters, so they have some way to attempt to validate and justify such desires. many times, these idols in question may be viewed by the larger public as "cautionary tales"- people to study so we may not become them, with fictional characters often being written as such. and yet, these figures find sympathizers and admirers. (this is not to say, of course, that we should not study morally reprehensible figures or write them in fiction, but I think that's obvious.) while we don't know who caligari was before he encountered the legend, we do see that it compels him to realize the crimes described within it. he has an excuse- that he is forcing an innocent patient to commit murder "for science," to "uncover the secrets of caligari." therefore, he finds himself validated to extend his authority by harming others- not because this book was written (the book itself only details the legend, and offers no words of praise for "caligari prime"), but because he used it as the excuse he needed. ironically, this book is also what leads to his downfall, as francis uses it as evidence against him.

as for the asylum ending, caligari is the only character to retain his role; he is still the asylum director, alan is completely absent (which itself raises questions), and jane and cesare hold only vague similarities to their counterparts- jane's expression of being unable to choose for herself, for instance, is consistent with her character, but she now appears to be delusional. caligari being the asylum director in both scenarios, however, perhaps brings an ominous element to the ending- he is still in power, and appears ignorant of francis' actual mental process, despite insisting he knows how to "cure" him. francis, who attempts to challenge the system and break caligari's hold on it, is deemed insane, but that doesn't mean that caligari is trustworthy or an effective authority figure. if anything, to me, this ending is tragic. it laments the inescapability of caligari's control over the narrative, as he is now able to hold power over francis- the one character he previously could not harm. it's a very bleak ending, but one that seems in line with the postwar atmosphere of disillusionment with systems of government and authority. but within this reading, we, the audience, remain sympathetic to francis. it's not a good thing that caligari is still in power, or that this may very well have been all a fantasy. in fact, it's terrifying- perhaps this may not be the murderer in francis' head, but he still appears to be an ineffective medical professional in charge of our hero's mental health, who says he has the answers despite being blatantly wrong.

[belit0]

Hey!! So i saw that u started writing again, so if u dont mind writing something like a knife kink + dumbification for indra and madara?? Tysm<33

Ohmygawwd I had this request since the previous time I said I would come back (and then, I didn't)

Im so sorry it took me so long :,( but its finally here!

Never wrote knife play before, so I'm not sure how accurate this is, I did some investigation for it but well, I had to try :)

TW: Knife play, dumbification Pairing: Uchiha Madara / reader - Otsutsuki Indra / reader NSFW

Indra

- Cruelly fine patience. Indra enjoys seeing you tied up and with no hope of escape, completely restrained by hand and foot. It's a situation he'll often put you in because nothing manages to get his cock harder than that image.

- He will use satin straps, powerfully unbreakable but soft against your skin, as he enjoys watching you fight against your bonds, seeming eager to escape from him. It's the power play that drives this man's arousal.

- Indra will pace from one side of the room to the other, ignoring you completely as he discards his clothing, keeping only his pants on.

- You know he's doing it to torture your mind in every possible way, pushing you to your limit without even taking his underwear off. It infuriates and turns you on in equal measure.

- "You won't believe how dumb you'll look after everything I'll do to you (Y/N)."

- When he finally decides to pay you attention, he walks over to the bed with his favorite dagger clutched firmly in hand. It's small, but it's not blunt, something he constantly reminds you as to keep you completely still for his touch.

- "You know how this works (Y/N). You'll have to choose not to move an inch in the face of everything I'll do to you. If you don't, I’ll pierce you right through with the knife."

- As he whispers those words in your ear, he drags the blunt side of the knife across your body, starting from your neck and working his way down to your pelvis, stopping at your nipples to poke them with the cold metal tip.

- The dagger leaves a long red mark where the skin was tenderized by its touch, which Indra mimics with his tongue as he moves down to your groin.

- Just when you think his mouth will land on your apex, he spits harshly to lubricate the area and moves up again, until he is at eye level with you. With one hand, he lightly touches you, slowly working his way up to watch you writhe in pleasure beneath him. With the other, he holds the knife against your throat.

- "My stupid little bitch won't move because she knows she shouldn't. You don't want to get cut, do you, silly?", "Don't look away, or I'll have to start again just as you're about to finish."

- The cold metal against your throat and the precise deliveries of Indra's digits are all it takes to make a mess of you under his hands, and just as your first orgasm begins to wane, he penetrates you without warning, taking overstimulation to a new level.

Madara

- With this man, the situation is somewhat different. It's not the fear he enjoys seeing in your eyes, but the anticipation, the uncertainty, knowing he has you in his clutches and can take you wherever he wants.

- He always keeps his dagger in the freezer, leaving it completely frozen for when it's time to play with you. He loves to involve temperature changes and physical sensations in your intimate moments, always finding a new variation on how to push you to your limit.

- He will not tie you down, for he chooses to trust the fact that you understand you must not move, and if you become uncomfortable with boundaries, he knows you will let him know before risking a knife cut.

- Your hands slip through his hair, tied in a bun so as not to get in the way of the game, and trail down his back, leaving marks that soon turn red on his white skin with your fingernails. He gives you the freedom to move as you please, for he knows you are at his disposal and will obey his directions.

- "I'm going to fuck you silly until you don't even know how to say your name, (Y/N)." "Show me that stupid little face of yours, show me how you'll cry for me."

- He concentrates on conditioning you with gentle touches and caresses, getting you wet and ready for the show. He will take his time undressing you, stripping off your clothes, and tearing your underwear with the edge of the dagger.

- He uses a piece of fabric to blindfold you and begins to play with the sensations the cold metal produces on your skin. He scrapes your abdomen as if buttering a loaf of bread, and gently pricks your flesh with the tip of the knife until he reaches your legs.

- "Is my little dummy ready to be fucked?" "Tell me how you want me to screw you this time, (Y/N)."

- He won't come in contact with your pussy until he feels you physically ready. He needs to see you dripping with need before he'll get down to work. Your body's desperation and the fact that you can't see anything he does with you, how confident you are that he won't hurt you, bewitches him.

- He places the dagger just above your pubis, and at that exact moment, he decides to stop torturing you and fuck you with abandon.

[msweebyness]

MirrorVerse Special- Halloween Town Trolls (Happy 30th Anniversary Nightmare Before Christmas!)

Hellllo, my fine, fright-loving folks! Exciting news! This year marks the 30th anniversary of one of the greatest holiday films ever, so Sparky and I decided to celebrate by doing a special involving our characters from the Disney AU's who come from said film! Keep an eye out for two more surprises from me (one largely from Artzy, lol.) Enjoy! @artzychic27 @imsparky2002

(Set During Senior Year)

(Holding a portal open, BluRore gazes sternly at the two Halloween Town natives standing in front of her, both bearing maniacal grins.)

BluRore: Now remember, you two. Don’t cause too much trouble. Heavens know these people have enough to deal with already, with him being about…

(Eri places a bony hand over her heart)

Eri Skellington: Not to fear, dear fairy! We have but one target in this endeavor. He alone will suffer the dregs of our mischief!

SalAnthony: Translation: We’re only gonna punk the Boogie, we won’t bother anyone else.

BluRore: (Nods with a sigh) Good. Now, with that out of the way…(smiles wickedly) Give that jackass hell!

(The two nod with devious smiles of their own, before stepping through the portal)

*SCENE CUT: Ivan Oogie’s Lair*

(The villainous Ivan Oogie cackles menacingly as he watches his bugs and critters wreak havoc in Halloween Town, ruining the preparations the townsfolk had worked so hard on.)

Ivan Oogie: (Laughs with pure malice) Lookit ‘em, runnin’ around like chickens with no heads! What a bunch’a suckers!

(Suddenly, he hears an odd tapping noise from outside his lair.)

Ivan Oogie: (Eyes narrow) What the…

(He steps outside to investigate…only to be whacked in the schnoz by a severed blue hand.)

Ivan Oogie: What in the Sam Hill?! Who-

(He’s cut off when the hand rounds back and slaps him across the face, before scuttling into the shadows around his lair. Two voices laugh from somewhere unseen.)

Ivan Oogie: A’RIGHT, WHO’S THA WISEASS, HUH?! SHOW YOURSELVES, ‘FORE I LOSE MY PATIENCE! WHO’S THERE?!

Eri Skellington: (From the darkness, in a voice with an exaggerated southern accent) It’s yer mama, Boogie Boy! Hauntin’ you for killin’ me, which ya did because yer a bitchass motherfucker!

SalAnthony: (Snickers, also hidden in the shadows) A little pissbaby, who’s scared of widdle bunny wabbits!

Ivan Oogie: (Trembling with fury) GET OUT ‘ERE AN’ FACE ME, YA ROTTEN LIL FREAKS! I’M THA KING’A THIS TOWN!

(The two just laugh at him again, angering him even further as he tries to see through the thick shadows.)

SalAnthony: Yo, jackass!

(Eri’s parasol whacks Ivan over the head, momentarily stunning him, but she disappears back into the darkness before he can spot her. This enrages him, of course.)

Ivan Oogie: I'M GONNA RIP YA TO BITS! DON'T Y'ALL KNOW NOT TO GAMBLE YER LIVES ON MESSIN WITH THE BOOGEYMAN?!

(SalAnthony’s hand slaps him upside the head.)

SalAnthony: Ooooh, we made him angy, Eri! I'm sooo scared! (Snickers)

Eri Skellington: Now, now, my dear doll, I believe it’s time we made our entrance, don’t you agree?

(The two suddenly appear behind Ivan Oogie, giving earsplitting shrieks as they make their most terrifying faces. He jumps, and it takes every ounce of willpower the young boogey has not to scream in terror.)

Ivan Oogie: So ya f-finally get the guts ta sh-show yer faces! Th-that the b-best ya got?

(The two give each other sly grins)

Eri Skellington: Of course not! A little friend of ours wants to say hello as well. (She pulls out a fluffy grey rabbit with green eyes.)

(The boogeyman lets out a high squeal.)

SalAnthony: He's Jesse's stress bunny. His name is Antonio. Isn’t he just the cutest thing in the world, Oogie? (Cackles)

Ivan Oogie: (Falls back on the ground and scrambles away) GET THAT BEADY-EYED LIL BUGGER AWAY FROM ME!

Eri Skellington: (Cackles with glee) What's this? What's this? He's screaming like a loon! He's pissed, what bliss! And he'll start crying soon!

SalAnthony: Damn, will he ever, hold it together? No, I think not, never to become. This fool is simply too much fun!

Ivan Oogie: (Scowls) Just wait till my Pun’Kin finds out ‘bout this! Y'all’re gonna be sorry when we slice ya up and eat ya for dinner!

SalAnthony: (Scoffs) Sorry, boyo, but your calamari cocktease doesn't scare us, and neither do you!

(Ivan is about to shout at him not to speak that way about his scallop, but Eri cuts him off.)

Eri Skellington: Well, it’s at least something of a comfort that you at least won’t kill your Tonsil Hockey partner to boost your fragile ego! (Examines her nails)

(Ivan Oogie splutters, only for SalAnthony to set the stage for the next blow)

SalAnthony: Well, Bones, he’s also got a soft spot for his baby sistew, doesn’t he? (Smirks devilishly)

Eri Skellington: (Giggles) That’s true! So much so that he’s a regular honored guest at her tea parties! (She pulls out her phone, where she had somehow procured an image of him sitting at Sasha’s small tea table with her, wearing a glittery princess tiara and a pink feather boa)

Ivan Oogie: (Eyes shoot open wide as he stammers, his face a mask of shock and mortification) WH-WHERE DID YA GET THAT?!

Eri Skellington: I have my ways, it’s neither here nor there! (Giggles) But rest assured, no one but me and dear Anthony have see-(Makes a show of ‘accidentally’ tapping something on the screen) (Gasps, covering her mouth with her hand) Oh, dear me! It seems I just sent it to the entire student body of the DuPont Reform Academy. Dreadfully sorry! (She and Anthony cackle)

(Ivan Oogie screams in rage)

Ivan Oogie: YOU BONE-BRAINED BITCH!

(He grabs her by the throat…only for his scream to change to one of pain when she effortlessly bent his wrist the wrong way, her expression calm as she drew her parasol out)

Eri Skellington: (Icy Tone) Did no one ever teach you not to touch a lady without permission, imbecile?

SalAnthony: Never mind him, love. The gist of it is that if he’s hot for them, or they came from the same womb he did, they’re safe. Otherwise, he’s a pathetic little sociopath who gives a bad name to real boogies!

Ivan Oogie: (Puffs out his chest) The rest’a my kind ain’t nothin' but cowards who waste their time bein' goody-goody losers! I'm better than all of 'em combined!

Eri Skellington: (Rolls her eyes) Oh, yes, you're SUCH a macho man! Constantly needing to pick fights with that buffoon friend of yours to prove yourself superior.

SalAnthony: (Scoffs) The only thing he has over that moron is that he doesn't beat women.

(Ivan Oogie snarls)

Eri Skellington: (Giggles mockingly) I would almost argue intelligence too, but it's too small of a margin to really be sure.

Ivan Oogie: (Crosses his arms) Y’know, it ain't very HERO-like of y'all to come here jus’ to rough me up an’ call me names.

SalAnthony: (Rolls his eyes and groans) Why do you villains always say that? We are allowed to be petty, you know. Especially to cannibalistic homicidal edgelords.

Eri Skellington: Too true. Pity that your massive egos and minuscule brains can't handle even the most valid criticisms.

Ivan Oogie: W-Well…Y-You…Y’ALL SUCK!

SalAnthony: Oooh, nice one. Come on, Eri, let's go back to a Halloween Town that ISN’T plagued by a burlap sack-looking hick with a ‘Macho Man’ complex!

Eri Skellington: Indeed. I tire of this fool. And you know how much they panic when I disappear close to Halloween time. (Rolls her eyes fondly)

SalAnthony: Mayor's gonna have another conniption, isn't he?

(The two laugh before disappearing through the portal back to their own universe)

Ivan Oogie: Yeah, that's right! Run away! (He begins attempting to console himself) They were too scared to keep pullin' shit. Runnin' away like a couple’a pussies. I'm the best, and ev’rbody knows it.

(He feels a tap on his shoulder)

???: Hey, Dickface!

(He turns with a scowl to see who insulted him…only to drop to his knees with a squeak of pain as he’s kneed right in the groin, by none other than the daughter of his Canon Disney counterpart!)

Darcy Boogie: (Flips Ivan Oogie off, before turning to face us, the audience) Bet ya’ll weren’t expecting that. JJ!

(Her boyfriend gracefully kicks Ivan Oogie right in the head, knocking him out cold, before turning in the direction of the fourth wall.)

JJ Skellington: (Gives a dramatic bow, tipping his signature fedora) Happy anniversary, everyone!

AND SCENE!

Leave thoughts in the comments and reblogs!

[purenguyening]

For the Ace Attorney ask: 3, 4 and 10

[Ace Attorney Asks]

3: Favorite case?

Farewell, My Turnabout. The themes always get me, and I think it's rather fitting design wise. The case is centered two actors and I think it works well to convey this idea that everyone has "a role to play". The sections where the background fade to black and the characters speak directly to the player remind me of plays that have monologue sections that have a similar effect as a way to engage the audience. I think it works incredibly well, since Phoenix was formally a Theaters Arts Major and the case served to solidify his exact role in the judicial system.

It's also really nice for the smaller moments, like Phoenix admitting to himself he relies on Pearl to cry for both of them when they think about the situation Maya's in, and of course the famous "Edgeworth snatched up the bear" moment. I always feel the need to replay it because I always miss this line:

For what it's worth, this case made a big influence in how I read the optional dialogue and think of lines that aren't strictly part of the progression of the story as them ad-libbing, hence some of the really insane ribbing that you see in later games.

I like a lot of cases, but this one just feels really distinct because I do chalk this up as Phoenix's first real loss in court.

4: Least favorite case?

Probably Turnabout Reminiscence (4th case of the first Investigation games). It's mostly due to Edgeworth's developing working dynamic with Gumshoe can come across a little too mean-spirited for my liking. I know in context this is their early meetings so a rocky relationship isn't unusual, but it just kind of felt off in context to the rest of the game.

In terms of frustrating leaps of logic, probably Turnabout Big Top still irritates me, the case and how it works for story telling I can deal with, but suspending my disbelief to buy the idea that once the bust fell the cape Russell Berry was wearing magically float back up and got stuck to the bust as Acro hauls it up? Not as much.

I'm actually willing to forgive Turnabout Serenade since the game warns us (via Phoenix) you'll have to use a lot less conventional means to win this case.

Though, I think it actually wouldn't have taken much to make the case flow smoother by having Apollo point out on the first day of trial that the murder weapon would have had a pretty powerful kickback. So, whoever fired the gun would have had some intense pain since this was heavily emphasized on the first day of investigation. Hell, one of Machi's sprites has him clutching his arm, which could have brought suspicion back to him.

Then, I think there was (probably) some intent to shift the suspicion back to Daryan because of him missing a cue (implied due to him feeling the after effect of the 45 caliber gun on his shoulder), though this was never brought up. But I can see him waving it off as him having an off day and then it'd force Apollo to take Phoenix's advice and approach solving the case from a different angle by unraveling all the mysteries.

10: Best villain and why?

Damon Gant.

He only appears in one case, but there something that gets me as a "what-if" because his intents and sense of justice were in the right place, but he really showed how easily you can "stray off the path" and how it can rapidly spiral before you know it.

Once the truth has been revealed, I always think about his final lines as he laments to the Judge he'll have to cancel their lunch plans. It's just such a powerful moment, how the people running this system aren't some deities, but people.

Also, as a casual horror fan, I always adore how he has such a long and unnerving stare that makes you pause and wonder whether or not your game froze, lmao.

P.S. (boop)

[memorydragon]

If you're thinking Mem, you haven't spoken this much in years! What's wrong with you!?

Po Yun and Tun Hai are what's wrong with me. And if no one else is going to be shouting to the void about it, I will do it myself. (You should be glad that the majority of Huai Shang's novels are a flat out hard no for me, otherwise you'd probably never hear the end of it)

Misconceptions get a bad rep in plot, largely due to people hating on when misconceptions are done poorly. This happens quite a lot, because the misconceptions draw on for too long and honestly, just talk to each other. Swallowing the Seas starts with misconceptions, but honestly, I thought it was done really well.

For starters, the misconceptions start from things that are in character. Wu Yu has been in the South City Sub-bureau for two months prior to the start of the start of the action. During that time, he worked the bare minimum, made no real contributions, and was there because one of the higher ups said he's on the team.

Bu Chonghua, one of the youngest Captains in Criminal Investigation sees this guy who got in through the back door and immediately hates him. Bu Chonghua may have come from an illustrious background, but he also worked really fucking hard to get where he is. He worked that hard because he watched as his parents were murdered in front of him when he was nine years old, and he's been told he had to live to get revenge and take down the drug lord who ordered the hit. He sees the murder victims who come across his desk as people who are still waiting for justice, just like he is, and he'll be damned if they don't get it, no matter what the personal cost to himself.

So when this guy is put on his team without warning, and he's told to play nice with the new guy because the top brass want him there, Bu Chonghua is ready to pick every single fight until Wu Yu finally gives up and leaves. He has no time for someone who just wants a paycheck from the government. The only ones who can keep someone from murdering a second or third victim is them, and Wu Yu isn't cutting it.

What he doesn't know is that Wu Yu is essentially in Witness Protection, because the higher ups thought it was a brilliant idea not to tell anyone. Wu Yu faked his results in therapy because he assumed it was something he needed a good grade in (Listen, I'm really fucked up over the fact that Wu Yu had never heard of the term ptsd until Bu Chonghua explains it and brutally shuts down any talk of someone with ptsd being weak or crazy. They never thought to explain it to him. As someone who has watched the government do fuck all for someone in my family, even knowing it wasn't all their fault, it hits hard). That he spent twelve years undercover, ten of which were when he was abandoned by everyone his superiors, while he was on the front lines and still doing the one person who mattered to him's his damned job, infiltrating drug rings, finally getting to the top. That when he was finally pulled out, the one person who knew what he'd done and held his future in his hands jumped to his death before giving Wu Yu the credit.

When Bu Chonghua realizes Wu Yu is inexplicably in intense physical pain, he spends half the day trying to force Wu Yu to admit it, then drags him to the hospital and pays the bill and starts to notice that Wu Yu is constantly on guard of something, even if he doesn't know what. He observes more, stops picking fights and takes a knife that should have gone through Wu Yu's head with his shoulder. He resents that Wu Yu sees him as the same sort of person who would sacrifice their agent to make the arrest, but he resents that Wu Yu is apparently so disgusted with him that he won't eat anything Bu Chonghua has touched, but he's backed off and will bide his time to prove it. He's no longer picking fights, instead looking out for Wu Yu, telling him not to fight the victim's family in front of cameras and hiding the knife with Wu Yu's finger prints (no, really, is it Coproganda when oh my fucking god, if this weren't fiction there are So Many Things Wrong with this. I mean obviously it's coproganda because this is considered helping the protag, but hi, I did not need more reasons to be terrified of the police here) because he's going to prove it.

Wu Yu just wants enough money to retire from the world and never interact with anyone again. He has not integrated in the society that never wanted him, though he knows how to keep his head down and pretend because he's been undercover for so long, what's a few more years? He enters illegal boxing rings to get more money, fights absolutely brutally to win, because he's still on the front lines even when he's supposed to be 'safe' and 'home'. He's never had 'home' so he doesn't recognize it. He recognizes drugs, because he's been a dealer since he was child. He hates drugs because he has no other way to survive. He hates cops, because he's been on the other side for too long and knows how terrible they are.

So when he sees Bu Chonghua, an elite who has enough money to do whatever he wants, who went to good schools and never had to worry about anything, Wu Yu hates him. He sees the arrogance and pride that comes from someone who has never wanted for anything, has never had to struggle for anything. He knows how hollow words like 'justice' and 'honor' are and sees Bu Chonghua as everything he's ever wanted but could never have.

What he doesn't know is that Bu Chonghua is the child he risked his life to save when he was trying to illegally cross the border, the child that he gave up his chance at a new life for, because he over heard how the drug dealers were taking a detour to torture and kill a couple of cops to find out the identity of the undercover agent who hurt their boss. That even though he ran as fast as he could to warn them, all he managed to do was drag the child into the closet and restrain him as his parents are shot in front of him, let the nine year old bite his palm hard enough to draw blood to keep him from crying out. That Bu Chonghua is the child he dragged out of the house the drug dealers set on fire and ran with desperately until the kid couldn't run anymore. How he was only a year or two older than the kid who just wanted to go back and be with his parents, but he tells him that he has to live to get revenge. And as he leaves his blood on the boy's cheek before he hides the kid and bolts off to lead the drug dealers away, never to be part of that life again. He doesn't know how that small moment will do what the man who didn't jump off the roof could not.

He doesn't know how Bu Chonghua will literally walk through fire and water to get to him, because he's been chasing after Wu Yu for twenty years, and no matter how dangerous it is, he'll come to find him. That Bu Chonghua refuses to accept this fate, and will tell the officer that the person dying in the fire is under his command, and he willingly chooses die as well, because that's called Devotion. (If you're asking, Mem, are you okay? No, I'm fucking no where near okay, that's called devotion and I'm a perfectly acceptable level of unhinged about that, thank you very much)

But he sees Bu Chonghua taking the knife for him, and he reconsiders. He can barely understand why Bu Chonghua is being so gentle with him when he's dry heaving because there's nothing left in his stomach because he can't handle even the smallest taste of meat and he's thrown up on his Captain's shirt, but Bu Chonghua just tells him the story of his dumbass cousin (Yan Xie, why are you like that. -_-;;) and makes him laugh instead of yelling. And it's hard to get over his natural prejudices, but he marks Bu Chonghua as a 'safe' person. Is this what 'home' is?

Then Wu Yu sees Bu Chonghua as someone who is perfect and shouldn't be dragged down. Then Bu Chonghua dirties his own hands which are already unclean, because he's been following after Wu Yu for so long without even realizing it so that the most perfect person to him will stop putting him on a pedestal.

The misunderstandings and misconceptions build and fall like sandcastles in the waves, standing strong because they were shaped by who they both are, but crumbling once they finally see the other person.

And if you're waiting for me to be less unhinged about this gay coproganda, you've still got a while to wait, sorry not sorry.

[factorialsotherfandoms]

QSMP in XCOM2 once again! Cellbit's orientation day, after he gets the Fed job to go undercover with but a week or so before he starts work! What delights await us, I wonder? (Anyone following my thoughts recently knows) (cat-hybrid!Cellbit, circa 9 years before Felps is rescued and 4-ish before first meeting Roier). Frankly while this one is specifically the au, it could also very easily fit into a slightly more fucked up version of canon.

TW: graphic torture sequence, blood, broken bone, unwanted and unnecessary surgery, declawing

A young woman in a Federation Uniform shows Cellbit through the office. She is the next newest hire, with scarring across her nose and the gills either side of her throat looking irritated from the air conditioning. Cellbit hasn't been given her name, only her rank of Junior, just like he has only been given the names of everyone else here.

He has been given his own desk, however, and allowed a few moments to arrange it - there's no place for sentimentality in the Federation, and even if there were he would not risk his mission. Still, he lays out his pens and his calculator, and lets himself be talked through setting up a login for the computer.

Just as he finishes that, she jolts; he looks, sees her eyes blown wide with fear, and follows them to the approaching Cucurucho.

"I will take over this investigation," the creature says, robotic and blank.

Junior bows and scampers.

Cellbit thinks of other fish-hybrids he has met, of the scars on her face where scales should be, and his ears twitch at the idea of what comes next.

"Follow me."

No matter what he suspects, Cellbit follows.

He's here for a reason, one greater than himself, and what price is his flesh to pay for access to the Federation computers?

---

Cucurucho leads Cellbit to an office, and has him sit. There's a metal tray on the table, and a pair of metal cuffs screwed into the desk. He's not ordered to put his hands in them, however - not yet.

There is also a man there, with a surgical mask on. He does not say anything, just gestures for Cellbit's hands.

Cellbit cannot afford to show doubt or hesitation, not this late in the game - he gives his hands, and barely flinches as each one is stabbed by a needle.

The tingling cold of anesthesia begins creeping from them, much like when his wisdom teeth were pulled. Local anesthetic - and, fuck.

At least he'll be awake for whatever torment the Federation has dreamed up.

(Perhaps, a weak, filthy part of himself thinks, he'd rather be asleep though.)

While the anesthetic spreads, the surgeon pulls out a set of hairpins and a mirror. Cellbit is gestured at and made to watch as his ears - his most obvious hybrid feature - are folded over and pinned into place.

The Federation demands perfection in all its workers, and clearly hybrids are not considered such - Junior, the fish lady, proved that well enough.

Cellbit's ears twitch under the rough touch, just grateful to be left intact; under his shirt his tail twitches too and - fuck, his hands.

His hands, where his claws lie under the skin.

His claws, his claws, an alteration in his very bone structure - local anesthetic in his hands, wrist cuffs, the tray - if they take his claws, will he ever be able to hold a pen again?

He starts to panic, and clamps it down.

Calm, calm, even breaths, do not let them see your fear.

It's worth it, anyway - he can pin his ears each morning and unpin them each night, and having his claws cut from his hands is not so very high a cost at all! To loose his claws - even his hands, if it comes to it...

It's worth it, it's worth it, if he can save Felps.

Not even everyone, everyone else is just an incidental factor beside saving his family - so long as he can save Felps without losing the rest of his people, /any/ cost is worth it.

And so Cellbit memorises how they want him to hide his ears, and lets his hands be clamped into place, and watches impassive as the sensitivity in his hands is tested and a scalpel unwrapped.

It sits there, staring, judgemental for a good five minutes as the anesthetic kicks properly in. The surgeon sits across the desk, waiting, and Cucurucho leers over him, blank smile ever affixed to the bear's terrible face.

And then, the surgeon is satisfied - content that Cellbit's hands will not be able to move, and ruin his work.

There is no more warning than the man picking up the scalpel, and digging it into the skin over Cellbit's leftmost knuckle.

Cellbit looks over the surgeon's head, to meet Cucurucho's eyes.

He feels nothing as the blade digs around his hand, blood dripping onto the table as the surgeon works.

The noise, though - oh God, the noise.

Scraping of metal on bone as it seeks out the joint, ruining the muscle tissue all around. Cellbit doesn't look, doesn't look, not until the surgeon flicks the blade, and there's a crack, and there in his hands rests one of Cellbit's bones.

Even that, however, Cellbit refuses to relent for.

He can feel nothing in his hands, nor his arms, but there's something hollow about it all the same.

The surgeon doesn't even stitch up the wound as he digs the scalpel into the next knuckle.

Cellbit looks back up.

If this be the price he will pay it willingly, pay it fourfold, and pay it thrice. He will watch as his bones are carved from his skin, he will stare Cucurucho in those soulless black eyes and swear his vengeance again and again.

Everything he is, he gives for Felps.

Everything taken, he will take back from them some day.

The scraping continues, and Cellbit dares himself not to look. He remains sat tall, remains sat proud, even as he hears the scratch-scratch-scratch.

Another crack, and another bloody bone is tossed to the side.

It's not until the fourth claw that Cellbit begins to flinch. The blood loss is getting to him, no matter how he tries to stay tall. The numbness creeps up his arms, and he knows it is bad, he knows it is wrong.

He knows that, even if he says something, they'll only be crueler.

For Felps, he reminds himself.

For Felps, who saw good in him when there was no good to see - for Felps, and for his family.

The scalpel is swapped out for another one around the seventh claw. Cellbit's right hand is no tougher than his left, but still a bigger blade is taken to it. The surgeon doesn't flinch, Cucurucho's face remains in its soulless smile, and so Cellbit refuses to be weak once again. He keeps his stance, keeps his posture, keeps his face perfectly schooled even as his hands are ripped apart.

The scalpel slips.

A shockwave of vibration shoots back through Cellbit's bones - his posture crumples as he gasps, the pain finally becoming apparent around his shoulder.

The surgeon glances up.

His lips are hidden, but his eyes are smiling.

And Cellbit... Cellbit cannot, will not let them win - he needs this, he needs this, this is his one chance and his one lead and whatever hell they put him through it /has/ to be worth the cost.

He cannot hiss, he cannot snarl, he can only breathe and bite his tongue and bring his eyes up once more.

Another crack, another claw, another chunk of flesh and another piece of himself ripped away.

They want perfection? Cellbit will give them perfection.

It won't be the perfection they want, but he'll give it to them all the same.

They can take his blood, they can take his bones, they can take his very soul, but he will not let them win.

What's a soul anyway?

He can answer the question in many ways, but his is black with sin, a sticky ichor infecting everything it touches. They want it? Let it destroy them - they've taken the cure, and no matter what he does, he will not let them also touch the balm.

Another claw gone - number eight caused them trouble, and it will be nothing compared to the hell Cellbit will unleash just as soon as Felps is safe.

His vision is blurring now, too much blood on the table, too much damage to his muscles and too much poison in his veins.

He hunches slightly, but keeps the eye contact. He can't stop the snarl, can't stop the venom, not now - but he can refuse to loose.

The ninth claw sheers into two as it is scraped from his hand, one piece pushing itself deeper even as the other is removed.

Cellbit turns his head down to fight the darkness, and watches as the surgeon cuts a line from his wrist to his second finger joint, peeling back skin and tortured muscle as he searches for the missing piece. At the knuckle the cut goes all the way to the bone, and yet Cellbit can barely see it for the blood.

Still he watches, still he stares, counting every crime as the blade digs through his skin in search of that fragment of bone.

It takes a few minutes, but eventually the surgeon finds it, pulling it out with a pair of plastic tweezers. This wound he bothers to stitch; Cellbit can still feel nothing, but his head is fuzzy and his breathing comes in uneven pants.

One more, just one more.

Cellbit cannot raise his head any more, cannot even twist his lips to a snarl. Still, he refuses to close his eyes - still he insists on winning, watching as his last knuckle is cut into, and the tenth claw is removed.

It comes with no fanfare and no announcement, just the wet plop of the bloody bone being dropped into a bottle of fluid - the other nine bones are gathered, various levels of intact, and join it.

Cellbit can barely breathe, can barely see. He hears his heart in his ears, uneven and struggling. He stares at the bloody mess of his hands - still bleeding, still bleeding - until the darkness is too much, until vengeance is not enough to keep him presence, until even the thought of Felps is out of reach.

"Welcome to the Census Bureau"

It's the last thing he hears before the darkness wins, and Cellbit finally, finally passes out.

---

Cellbit wakes up on a bunk, on top of the sheets. There's a ladder down to the ground, leading to the tiny floor space. He has a small sink, a mirror, a chest of drawers. Under the bed is a desk, a bookshelf, and a tiny cupboard.

His hands are wrapped in bandages, already bleeding through.

He moves his hands and finally, finally he gives in and screams.

[pantherlover]

A Local Habitation Re-Read: Part 7

Hello again! Here's part 7.

Chapter Twenty-Eight:

It really is creepy thinking about April luring people out so Gordan could try to digitize them.

Chapter Twenty-Nine:

April's room being decorated so childishly makes everything soooo much worse.

"Damn. Just once, can't the villains look suitably villainous?" Give it a couple months Toby! You'll meet one soon enough.

I still think Jan's plan was to essentially put Faerie in the Metaverse. What would happen if the servers broke down? April had like a million failsafes and she still ran the risk of being turned off permanently if the power failed. I feel like, beyond the near impossibility of the task, there were a lot of issues everyone at ALH failed to consider.

The person in charge of the knowe being completely against you is a really scary thought.

Chapter Thirty:

'"Perhaps he'll stay dead this time," he said, nonchalantly. "Tybalt, I snapped. He gave me a look, as if to say 'what?' then began studying his nails.' I know that look. If he was my mom's cat he would've rolled on the floor to show how totally nonchalant he was feeling about the situation, which is maybe not as dignified as Tybalt was going for but would've gotten the feeling across the same.

I didn't think that Barbara was a very good Queen of Cats, but she might've been a *slightly* better one than I gave her credit for. Elliot said that Barbara was upset that the cats kept dying; if she wanted the testing to stop and ALH decided to keep going, that might explain why she decided to sell them out to Riordan. Which doesn't actually help the cats under her care, but it does explain why she'd 'bend at the knee' to a child of Titania.

Chapter Thirty-One:

Toby keeps saying that she's super paranoid about everything; if anything I think she's not paranoid enough.

'I was starting to see the blood trail on the floor, marking out the way in blotches and streaks. Only half of it was real blood. The rest was potential blood, ghost-blood, made visible by the magic I inherited from my mother.' I don't think that Toby's ever tracked someone through potential blood trails after this? I'm not sure if that's because everyone she tracks after this is bleeding enough she doesn't need almost blood, or because tracking people through their magic is more reliable.

"We go now, because there's no time left. Tybalt, can you-" "I'll guard him. I should be able to coax him back to human form." Tybalt really does understand what Toby needs. He knows that she needs to go save Quentin, someone who's her responsibility, and he knows she'll be able to focus on doing that if she's not also worrying about Connor.

Elliot's soapy tidal wave is actually pretty cool. I love the way that people stretch their magic to do things they technically shouldn't be able to do.

Chapter Thirty-Two:

If Gordan was always planning on experimenting/murdering Toby, why didn't she do it sooner to stop her from investigating? Or was there too big a risk that that would spook Jan into sending someone to bring Sylvester to Tamed Lightning?

Oh man, Gordan, if you think some type of hierarchy wouldn't be established in the digital world, then you don't know people very well.

Gordan makes me wish we got more changeling characters. I feel like we don't get a ton of them, and it seems like they tend to be unsympathetic characters instead of characters who have a lot of reasons to be bitter (but still don't default to murdering people).

'Then, quietly, [April] asked, "For right now, until they come and take Gordan's hardware... can we pretend that you'll take care of me?"' Oh nooooooooooo. Trust me, April, if it was even slightly possible, Toby definitely would've taken care of you.

I feel like this book was Toby's biggest failure professionally. One Salt Sea was probably her biggest failure personally, but she stopped a war from happening and rescued a kidnapped child then. In this book, only 2 out of 7 people actually survived (although to be fair, she did get to bring most of them back later).

Chapter Thirty-Three:

I know Tybalt stayed behind to avoid Toby until he could process what he'd learned about her (and to take care of the cats), but I'm still glad that April wasn't left alone with the dead. (Actually has anyone written that fic? Now that I'm thinking about it, Tybalt could probably give April a lot of advice on running her fiefdom and how to look after her people)

I wonder if Jin has a running tally of all of the ridiculous injuries she's had to heal when Toby gets involved. Maybe the healers have bingo cards and they win a prize if theirs gets filled up.

'No one knows exactly when Amandine went crazy; she collapsed a few years after I vanished, moving into an internal world far stranger than the Summerlands. She doesn't spend much time in the tower anymore. Most reports place her wandering endlessly through forests and standing, motionless, at crossroads. I wish I knew what she was looking for.' I remember feeling sorry for Amandine the first time I read this part, and hoping that Toby would eventually get her mother back. I no longer feel this way. I guess losing another daughter (and potentially her only chance at getting her other daughter back) is what caused her to snap. Also, I'm not sure if this is the intended association but 'wandering endlessly through forests and standing, motionless, at crossroads' is making me thinking of Tam Lin/Janet breaking the Ride.

"And Toby... he's not angry. You did the best you could. Both of you." This might be the last time we see Luna and Toby's relationship be uncomplicated/good. The next time we see them after this scene is when Luna's sending Toby to die for her.

That's it for A Local Habitation! I'm excited to get into An Artificial Night; this was the book that really pulled me into the series. See you next time!