#BUT BESIDES THAT? HE LITERALLY CALLED THEM A LIABILITY

[milimeters-morales]

throwing up crying thinking about ACAU aaron begrudgingly teaching miles more nuanced social cues to be aware of and making him practice using his manners even though he personally would never give a shit but Jeff and Rio definitely would have taught them had they had been able too and sometimes he just doesn’t have an answer and wants to give up teaching Miles stuff he doesn’t even care for but he realizes this is his brother and his sister-in-law’s whole ass child and his little nephew he’s helping build the future of and he can NOT mess this up. SINGLE “FATHERS” WHO ARE TRYING THEIR BEST DESPITE THEIR LIVES AND CIRCUMSTANCES = HYDROGEN BOMB

[audioroleplayconfessions]

https://www.tumblr.com/audioroleplayconfessions/757267969406533632/httpswwwtumblrcomaudioroleplayconfessions756?source=share

I'm the person who wrote the original David rant thingy i wanted to reply, and I must say I fully agree. You hit the nail on the head.

David has favoritism for sure.

He allowed asher to do whatever the fuck at the gala vampire thingy, he also allowed milo and sweetheart to do whatever UNDER the guide of asher.

( I'm not sure if he knows yet but just to add onto my point )

Knew how sweetheart and milo met....literally fighting a shade. Condoned what milo did in the inversion despite telling some pack members not to get involved.

Yet when darling, someone who he himself had admitted to not being close with wants to get angry and upset that they didn't ask for help about quinn? I wondering fucking why David.? In the confrontation video he mentions at the end that darlin should try earning his trust back....SIR....they never trusted YOU in the first place...tf you mean they gotta earn it?

Everyone, and I mean everyone EVEN FLIPPING William, Vincent, lovely, fuck even porter...knew the reason for darlin wanting to deal with quinn alone. They never Condoned their actions BUT UNDERSTOOD. From my POV David didnt TRULY understand.... Yet darlin is faced with harsh pushiment and literally public shaming. Again in the end of the confrontation video David says he's happy darlin is back, but sweetie...how would darlin know you care about them when everytime y'all interact you just ' bully ' them; In the gala video Vincent and porter made sure darlin was okay because they knew Alexis was there....at this point Vincent probs knew darlin for little over a year and porter a month.

They gave darlin the best treatment dispute knowing darlin for a very little time... they dont even get special treatment cause their with sam...they generally got to know darlin, but the pack can't say the same...they've known them for years and still gets treated like the stranger..

It's been proven time and time again that darlin never trusted anyone in the pack BESIDES ASHER...because thank God he was the only one to admit that darlin has truly had the packs back. Example them Defending asher when he was appointed the beta position.but dispute darlin not trusting anyone they still cared enough to want to see everyone safe and unharmed.

I also dislikes the way he acted towards angel in the beginning, im not saying anyone you just met is entitled to kindness, but even after a while of them dating he's still a dick? There's a difference to being a Tsundere and straight up a dick.

" but his backstory! He's a sad boy. " I truly don't care. It's not an excuse In my eyes.

David likes to wonder why darlin isn't as connected to the pack, but when you listen to how the vampires treat darlin in such a short time of knowing them you truly understand.

I also dislikes how the pack felt ENTITLED to darlin story with Quinn and how it should be delt with.

I will forever stand by asher being the only one who gives a fuck about darlin..cause I don't recall milo ever mentioning them, but I love milo so he gets a pass <3

Ill give david his flowers though, him calling darlin first and saying they will get their chance with Quinn alone and the hug was sweet...but thats the only point he's getthing.

After that....it's almost as if darlin is nothing to him. He only cared because darlin was a liability to him and the pack.

He never showed any concern or comfort when darlin was at their lowest, only showed them disgust and anger.but when milo was all upset about not being able to shift, who was there with wise words and comfort? David. When asher was recovering from his little inversation ptsd moment who was there? David.

ONE LAST THING ( lowkey made me laugh )

Before darlin moved in with sam, darlin was living I'm some dankey ass apartment....David knew this cause he visited them in his confrontation video. And then just left? Didn't give them any food or nothing 😭 but when sam saw homeboy made sure they ordered themselves food and was eating right cause it was clear they weren't taken care of themselves.

It's favoritism at best.

Of course no hate to Eric, I love his content and the world he made <3 remember yall, your allowed to love something but still have something you dislike.

Naturally all characters have their flaws, and hey.. it could simply just be a plot hole or something that is fixed in the future or something that wont be touched on at all and thats okay!but this is just how I currently feel about David LMAO I wasn't able to finsh his playlist at all cause of said reason. But this doesn't mean he's bad! Just isn't my cup of tea.

This rant is long I'm sorry, but I could write a university style eassy about this dude and his behaviors.

If David has no haters I'm dead LMAO

Reply to this.

[poraphia]

alright so

The reader has been involved in the East L’manburg mafia since they were 17-19 years old (shortly before they met Wilbur). They work as a forger of signatures and documents, since they have a steady hand and artistic inclination (can’t draw that well though. Only can copy handwriting. Go figure.). maybe they were in juvie, maybe they were in a group home (thinking about the book “allegedly”), but whatever their situation was, the mafia helped them pay themselves out of it and land a steady part time career as a laboratory assistant (plus some money to enroll in university). they keep most of the details about their life hidden from everyone, even Wilbur. The only thing he knows is that they were in some sort of a group home, but the details are obscure— and they took a while to tell him that, too. They didn’t want the syndicate doing a background check on them and revealing some details they’d rather stay hidden. Tl;dr: lots of trust issues.

But Wilbur is so sweet, and Philza and Techno are great people, so they stick around. They learn to juggle their life with the mafia and their life with the Soots. The reader is convinced they’ll be fine, they can keep digging this hole for themselves without meeting any consequences. But consequences DO come, and they come in the form of a completely accidental car accident on the readers way to work. They are rushed to the hospital (Wilbur gets a phone call and is beside himself with worry), and are told that although their dominant hand will be fine in the long run, it will never be able to work properly again. So they can write— but they can no longer forge signatures and handwriting like they used to. Therefore, they are now a liability to the mafia. of course the mafia finds out, and has a little “chat” with them. The reader returns home with a black eye and a busted lip, but promises Wilbur that they just tripped and fell down the stairs. He almost believes them.

And then there’s the Actual Accident. Maybe a building collapses, maybe there’s a gas leak and the readers apartment explodes. Either way, charred bodies are found in the building, and the reader is presumed dead. they aren’t actually dead, having out on an errand when the accident occurs. They go back to the scene immediately, wanting to tell Wilbur that they’re okay—- but spot some mafia members digging around in the rubble. The reader overhears the mafia members pronounce them dead, and watches them leave. with this sight comes a few key realizations: first, they no longer have a bounty over their head. Normally, the mafia would wait a couple weeks before killing a target, just to get them to lower their guard. Now, though, the reader is truly safe. Second: if they asked protection from the syndicate, the Soots could be endangered. Wilbur and co. might be able to protect them physically, but the mafia would do anything to get to their target. Including doing extensive research on this protecting them. If the reader hid behind the Syndicate, the mafia could discover the Syndicates true identities and pawn the info off to the heroes. it wouldn’t be the first time that the mafia bribed and involved itself with the heroes committee.

So the reader doesn’t come back. They let Wilbur (and the mafia) think they have died.

then they probably sneakily kill off the mafia members during their “missing and presumed dead” period idk

anyway idk how the reader explains this to siren after he calms down. probably in a dark room, sitting with their backs together, facing opposite walls.

siren also probably asks something like “were you about to LET me kill you back there?”

angst haha

ALRIGHT CRACKING MY KNUCKLES AFTER SLAVING OVER SCHOOL WORK LETS DO THIS

btw OOOHH MY GOD this was such a juicy backstory literally love it the idea that reader has their own secret life (much like a lot of the characters in tcfsv) and its a whole gritty, not so fun, twisted story of its own just MWAH

---

It's been four hours since Siren used his honey-tone voice.

It's been four hours since Apollo found Siren hovering over the broken vigilante as blood dribbled from their lips and bruises brandished a fresh pink.

It's been four hours since Blade had to pin Siren down with Zehphyrus shielding (y/n) with his wings and Apollo healing various bruises scattered all over their body.

And most importantly, it's been four hours since Techno and Tommy threw them in Wil's rooms together and was told to talk it out, despite Wil's protest. He and (y/n) sat with their backs pressed together in the middle of his bedroom. (y/n) clutched what once was a rich hot chocolate, taking momentary sips between their words.

Wilbur sat there, rendered speechless as he listened to their pain-ridden words. It was a story not easily mumbled by them, and if anything, he was the first person to even hear what torture they had to go through.

Silent tears were streaming down (y/n)'s face, but they were determined to fight through their stutters and trembles.

"I-I know it was selfish." They whispered. Their hands wrapped tightly around the half empty mug. "T-That I should've called you to at least let you know I was safe but I--"

"Are they still alive?" Wilbur spoke gently, but his words, even without his siren voice, had so much power behind them. It sent a shiver up their spine.

"N-No. I killed them off before I even became a vigilante." They let out a dry chuckle, but nothing could soothe the thick tension in the room. It became quiet now. Only the humming of the a/c and the nocturnal crickets of the night filled the atmosphere.

Then, Wilbur spoke again.

"You," He paused as bit, almost as if registering his own words. "You almost let me kill you." He muttered almost breathlessly. (y/n) didn't speak. Instead, their silence said enough.

"Why?" He asked. "(y-y/n), don't you realize what I'm saying?!" Desperately he ran his fingers through his hair as attempt to soothe his own mania, but it was no use. (y/n) could feel his fidgeting as his back continued to brush against theirs. "Were you about to let me kill you back there?!"

Calmly, (y/n) placed their mug on the nearest surface, close enough where they could reach, before leaning back on Wil. His hyperventilating slowed, but his distressed fidgets maintained.

"Wil." They called out. He continued muttering to himself.

"Wil!" They exclaimed once again. Still, he ignored.

"WILBUR!"

his rocking stopped, but his head stayed buried between his knees. A moment of silence passed between them both, letting the crickets occupy their ears for just a few seconds.

Finally, (y/n) spoke up.

"I wouldn't have cared if you killed me." They said, leaning against his back. Their head rested against the back of his and they stared up at the ceiling.

"What..?" He muttered, his voice cracking.

"I wouldn't have cared. I wanted you to be happy-- not ruin your life. So if you saw that was the best judgement for me then.." They trailed off, letting their silence speak for themselves.

Carefully, Wilbur sat up before turning around to face them now. He placed a hand on their shoulder, making them turn around as well. Their features weren't exactly visible, but from how the moon defined little shadows on their face, he knew this was the lover he fell for long ago.

"I.." Looking at them as the moon shimmered in their eyes, his body was left breathless. His heart didn't have the courage to yell at them and prove his ego, but it also didn't have the strength to fight against their beauty either.

Gently, he placed a hand on their cheek, feeling the fresh tears but soft skin warming up his palm. (y/n), naturally, sunk into his touch, closing their eyes.

"Y-You've been through a lot." Wilbur softly muttered. (y/n) placed a hand over his, slightly nodding their head. "So I..-- and I mean-- it is pretty late." He was reluctant to his next choice of words, but nonetheless, he swallowed that huge lump in his throat.

"Why don't you stay over for the night?"

--

hi i do want to say that i worked on this four days ago and im really sorry for the delay and it may be a little rushed however @listenheresweaty literally did the carrying here im just kicking my feet and twirling my hair sooo YA ENJOY

[danses-with-dogmeat]

🦀 👑 I was worried something happened to you with Paladin Danse and female sole please?

And congrats on the 1.5 k🥰

Well, this is darn precious, isn't it?

Poor Danse always worrying about Sole when they're gone is literally canon, and I'm here to exploit that fact.

Anyways, I hope you enjoy!

This turned out longer than expected, but... 🤷‍♀️

"Gonna start another irrigation system with the hole you're wearing in the ground there, pal."

Sturges' voice sounded out from where he was seated on the old stump outside the workshop house in Sanctuary, the sound hardly reaching Danse's ears as he wound around to pace in the opposite direction once again.

"Really," The voice continued, insisting, yet gentle at the same time as it managed to reach him through his thoughtful stupor. "I'm sure she's alright. She's got Preston with her, you know? And it's only been half a day past when they said they'd be back."

The words of comfort were lost on him, as Danse continued his pacing, bootfalls heavy with each step he took, scattering dust in the dry air, his mind occupied with every unpleasant sort of thought, every instance that could mean his partner's demise, or her maiming, the possibility of her blue suit never shimmering into focus on the sunlit horizon ahead of him.

Danse tried to swallow back these thoughts, these ruinous concerns, this unproductive way his mind held firm to its own habitual and cataclysmic over-analyzation of his partner's unexpected absence. But as usual, it would not leave him be. Wouldn't let him rest or see reason.

It would only keep plaguing him.

If I'd only been able to go with her, if I knew, for certain why her return was taking longer than anticipated, then...

But he'd known from the start that going with her wasn't an option.

Too close to the airport, within the line of sight of those aboard the Prydwen.

Too dangerous.

He knows he would've been a liability now, that he was keeping her safer by not going along with her and her Lieutenant, but still... Danse felt as though he were letting her down, that he was being lazy or cowardly or just plain neglectful.

"You listening to a word I'm sayin', Danse?"

Finally, the ex-paladin paused his movements, amber eyes trained on the soft, orange glow of the near-setting sun.

He sighed.

"Look, pal-- can I call you pal? Can't remember if I asked you about it at all before." A gloved hand fell heavy on the ex-paladin's shoulder as Sturges' voice grew near to him.

The handy-man's eyes were trained on the man beside him, waiting for a nod, a 'yes,' a something, but Danse's attention was still focused elsewhere.

"This ain't the first time they haven't been on time, right?" His hand gave Danse's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "You been on missions that haven't ended just the way you thought, and you turned out alright, right? This don't mean something's wrong, necessarily."

"We won't know until they return." Danse said somberly, his voice almost a croak from it's misuse over the past couple days.

He'd never imagined feeling this kind of closeness with someone again. His bond with Sole was stronger still than it had been with Cutler, with Krieg, with Haylen. With even the Brotherhood as a whole.

She was everything to him, and though it scared the shit out of him, though he knew it wasn't healthy or fair, he felt utterly lost without her by his side.

The sun set and the moon rose, Sturges sat beside him as long as he could bare before sleep called his name from across the street, and he set off home.

Danse remained.

Synths don't really need sleep. He told himself firmly.

I can go without. This is too important.

By the time the stars were in full formation, Danse was pacing again, wrestling with the idea of going out after them. He could face those on the Prydwen if he couldn't hide from them, he could re-trace Sole's steps, try to track her and Preston, ask around the settlement they were going to, the settlements they passed on the way. It would be easy.

Easier than sitting here in a cold sweat with stomach cramps that felt like crawling mirelurk hatchlings burrowing in his guts.

"Sole, come on." He whispered to the wind. "Where are you." His fist pounded on the edge of the nearby fencepost, and the wood creaked in mild protest at the affront.

As Danse hung his head, as his teeth ached with the pressure of his set jaw, he heard a twig snap in the darkness.

His head shot up, bright amber eyes alert as he studied the dim space around him.

"... Sole?" He ventured, probably naively.

An animal, maybe. Or the wind. Don't become too optimistic, it'll only make it more of a blow when you--

His thoughts stopped hard in their tracks as movement caught his eye. A pair of bodies, moving slowly, not over the bridge, but through the woods at the other edge of town.

He was running towards them before his mind could properly register the movement.

"Sole!" He shouted as their familiar outline grew more defined.

Danse's heart was in his throat as he grew closer, as he noticed the way Sole was-- No, the way that Preston was leaning against her, one arm around her shoulder, and another holding a walking stick as he limped beside her.

"Danse?" Sole's voice sounded, and the ex-soldier swears he'd never heard something so sweet. "What are you doing up? It's the middle of the night!"

"Are you hurt?" He came to a hard stop in front of the pair, eyes scanning over his partner's form rapidly as he caught his breath.

"No, Danse I'm fine." She smiled as she answered him, her expression confirming the honesty of her words for him.

"And I'm alright too." Preston added with a soft huff, "No need to worry about me."

"Then...?" Danse's expression made him look lost, even in the dim of the night, his eyes shone with continuing worry.

"Preston sprained his ankle after we took out the raiders, and we had to change course and rest on the way back. The whole thing was actually kind of funny--"

"Not sure if I agree with that part, General." The minuteman chimed in with a tired grin of his own, and Danse only nodded, his expression still unsure as he fell in step on Preston's other side to help support him.

The group moved slowly, but eventually made it to Preston's Sanctuary home and left him to rest his sore ankle. With her Lieutenant taken care of, Sole and Danse made their way out, heading to their own shared home down the street.

"I'm sorry we weren't back on time. I know that it's not easy for you..." Sole's voice was small, her eyes glued down to her feet as though she'd done something wrong.

Danse stopped walking suddenly, and she halted a few steps ahead of him.

"Danse?"

His eyes met hers as she turned to face him, and in the next moment, Sole found herself wrapped tightly against her partner's chest.

"I don't blame you for being unable to inform me of your change of circumstance." He told her, his voice gentle, but still holding that commanding firmness he never quite seemed to shake, "I'm just... I'm glad you're alright. I was worried something had happened... I..." Danse's voice seemed to give out before he could finish, and Sole wrapped her arms tightly around him, returning his embrace with the same such desperation she felt pouring through him.

"I know, love. You don't have to say it."

A warmth caressed her heart as Sole felt Danse's head lean against her own, as his embrace redoubled in its comforting intensity.

"I don't know what I would do if something happened to you."

[helly-watermelonsmellinfellon]

I’m probably gonna get a lot of shit for this, but who cares?

Tsunade is a well-written character.

I have seen think piece after think piece on why she’s one of the worst written female characters in Naruto, and while Kishimoto needs a lot of work on his female characters, Tsunade is probably the best-written one out of all of them.

“She only exists to further Naruto’s narrative!”

Everyone in Naruto exists to further his narrative. Typically, all side characters exist to further the plot of the MC. In everything. In some way. That’s just how it is. Tsunade actually has other stuff to do in life though, and her entire existence doesn’t depend on Naruto on a day by day basis. She doesn’t base her own self-worth off of him in any fashion. She doesn’t hide behind him and let him do all the work. She contributes a shit ton.

“She got scared of blood and ran away from her duty just cuz some guy she liked died!”

No. 

1.) Naruto was created by a Japanese man, and has predominantly Japanese influence. That means their gods, superstitions, habits, and teachings are thoroughly entrenched in the Naruto Universe. Tsunade is superstitious, and in this fictional universe, bad omens like cracking teacups and falling photo frames are real hints that something bad has happened.

2.) The Shodaime died young, as shown by his Edo Tensei form. And then the Nidaime died young. She gave her grandfather’s necklace to her little brother, as a good luck charm, and he died not long after getting it. She gave it to her lover as a good luck charm, and he died not long after getting it, in a gruesome fashion. She develops a fear of blood as a result.

3.) Tsunade and the necklace are the common denominators and she takes the results as a sign that she is cursed with bad luck. She develops a severe fear of what this means and cannot bring herself to continue as she is. She’ll get someone else killed.

4.) Danzo and Hiruzen, both sucking so very much at leading a village, helped ruin her stance on the ideals of Konoha. From her standpoint in all she witnessed, the Will of Fire was bullshit and not worth defending. (And tbh the village in general is full of shitty people who really don’t deserve to be defended if they’re going to completely outcast a child for something beyond his control.)

“She drinks and gambles a lot which makes her too manly!”

So?

I get that drinking and gambling aren’t ‘feminine’ habits so we don’t see many women in fiction being involved in either very much, but it’s not a big deal. She’s a grown woman who has been to war, fought for her country, and saved countless lives. She’s in her 50s and has more than earned her weird vices.

How liking alcohol and gambling is considered a manly thing, I still don’t understand.

“She’s so vain she keeps herself young-looking!”

So?

She can use her own chakra to keep her body young. She doesn’t even have to get surgery. Why is this such a big deal? It isn’t as if she won’t stop funneling chakra into that purpose if she absolutely needs that excess chakra for something else. She’s done it many times. Her vanity doesn’t get in the way of duty when it calls for it.

She was never a liability to her teammates. Her vanity never got in the way of her training.

Besides, it’s funny how many people who praise a certain character despite her terrible vanity that gets in the way of everything, will shit on Tsunade.

“She needed a Talk no Jutsu in order to change!”

I know we all like to clown Naruto’s good guy, sunshine smiles way of handling things, but he puts a lot more into it than just a few words. Dude literally called her out where no one else dared to, held her to her word, protected and defended her at the cost of his own well-being, and inspired her.

Many of you out there would never do anything for someone else if there was no benefit to you first. And many people don’t act until they are personally affected by something. The difference is Tsunade is a traumatized soldier who already served her country and saved thousands of lives countless times through her efforts to improve the medical field. Comparing her not wanting to be Hokage, to some Karen who has never helped another person a day in her life, is an insult to her personal sacrifices and efforts.

I think Tsunade is very complex and very human, and she has one of my favorite stories in the entire Naruto Universe.

[ceterisparibus116]

I was wondering, what are the rules about different types of cases lawyers can take, and what types can Matt do? I know he’s a defense attorney officially, but can/does he take on different cases? Could he work as a prosecuting attorney, or in another area (like custody law or criminal prosecution)? What even are the different areas lawyers work in (past just civil/criminal)?

Also, for criminal trials I was wondering if the victim pays anything. Like if a victim is robbed and presses charges, do they have to get a lawyer to prosecute or does the state appoint one? And do they have to pay for this lawyer or does the state pay? (I think for civil everyone pays but criminal is different)

Thank you in advance ☺️

These are great questions!

So lawyers can take on different cases as long as they remain ethical - and as long as they can get hired. ;) The main ethical rules that would apply (as far as I know...my knowledge of the ethical rules is more limited to criminal law nowadays) are the rules that relate to: 1) a conflict of interest; and 2) competence.

The conflict of interest rules mean that a lawyer can't take on a case that is in conflict with a case they already have. So say Matt is functioning as a criminal defense attorney for Client A; he can't simultaneously represent Client A's co-defendant, Client B unless both Client A and Client B waive the conflict of interest because you never know when Client A's defense might clash with Client B's defense.

(A common example is drug possession cases, where A and B are both found in a vehicle with drugs. A might say "The drugs belong to B!" and B might say "The drugs belong to A!" and the same defense attorney can't argue both positions.)

Or say Client A is a criminal defendant charged with battery against Client B, and Client B is suing Client A in civil court over the same incident. Matt could represent Client A in both criminal and civil court, but he couldn't represent Client A in criminal court and then turn around and represent Client B against Client A in civil court.

The other ethical rules at play are those relating to competence. It is unethical for an attorney to take a case that they aren't competent (or couldn't reasonably become competent) to handle. If Matt knew absolutely nothing about, say, wills and trusts, it would be unethical for him to agree to draft someone's will or trust. This also goes to just...time management. If Nelson & Murdock have too many cases, there hits a point where they can't ethically take more cases because they wouldn't have the time to competently handle them.

Not even gonna comment on how this relates to the Frank Castle trial because I'm pretending that trial never happened.

And Matt could never be a prosecutor while working as a criminal defense attorney. He could stop practicing criminal defense and switch over to prosecution, but he can't do both simultaneously. The conflict of interest is just unavoidable, and besides, no prosecutor's office would hire him if he were still doing criminal defense work.

That said, in canon, we see Matt take on many cases, both criminal and civil, simultaneously. Aside from his criminal cases, we also see him handle the following types of civil cases:

Property (as when he represents Elena Cardenas against her landlord);

Employment (and possibly immigration?) (as with Ms. Jacinto in S2E1);

Standard negligence (I think? I think Mr. Marino is being sued for negligently handling his dog by allowing his dog to "defile" the statue in S2E1?); and

Products liability (as with the Aaron James case).

Other areas of law that I imagine he could handle would be family law (divorce, custody, child support, etc.), other negligence claims (like a company that negligently leaves their floors slippery, and someone gets hurt, commonly called a "slip-and-fall" case) (there are literally so many types of negligence claims oh my gosh), and intentional torts (which often have criminal analogs, like assault and battery).

He can do all of these while still handling criminal defense cases, as long as there's no conflict of interest, and as long as he's competent.

As for victims: you're right that it's different between civil and criminal law; in civil law, the (alleged) victim has to pay for their attorney unless the attorney takes the case pro bono.

But in criminal law, it's very important to note that victims don't have attorneys. This is because, although the victim is one victim of the crime (obviously), the other victim of the crime is actually the state.

So for example, if Frank were prosecuted for shooting Grotto...then yeah, Grotto is the victim of Frank's violence, but so is the entire State of New York. That's why criminal cases are labeled "State vs [Defendant]."

Therefore, prosecutors represent the State - they do NOT represent the individual victim. The reason this is so important is because the victim and the State may actually have different interests...or, at least, think they have different interests.

The clearest example of this is domestic violence. Say you have a guy who's been abusing his wife for years, but she, for myriad reasons, doesn't want to leave him. Nor does she want him to be prosecuted. Maybe this is because she loves him, or thinks she loves him. Maybe this is because she's afraid of what will happen to their kids if he's incarcerated. Maybe she relies on him for money, and she needs him to stay out of prison so he can keep providing. There can be so, so many reasons.

However, the State does want this guy prosecuted. The State wants this guy to, at minimum, be put on probation which would require him to get a domestic violence evaluation (which would assess mental health concerns and factors that might exacerbate his behavior) and, based on the evaluation, court-ordered domestic violence counseling. The State may or may not also want a No-Contact order between the guy and his wife, and possibly between the guy and his kids, unless and until he gets better at controlling his violence and/or addressing whatever underlying issues he may have.

A good prosecutor will listen to the victim and hear them out, but the prosecutor does not represent the victim, and the victim does not decide what happens in the criminal case. And so, at the end of the day, the prosecutor is not required to dismiss a case even if that's what the victim wants.

And yes, that is one of the hardest and heartbreaking parts of being a prosecutor.

That said, a victim in a criminal case can also bring a civil case against the defendant. This is important because although a criminal conviction can impose certain penalties (like probation, jail time, and court orders like the aforementioned counseling), criminal convictions can't give the victim any money except for basic restitution.

So for example, if a defendant beats someone up, they'll have to pay for medical bills and things like that. But the defendant won't have to pay for additional damages (like for the pain and suffering experienced by the victim, or for counseling the victim might need to cope with the experience) unless the victim brings a civil case against the defendant. And as I said before, the victim would generally have to pay for that.

Okay I feel like this was kind of a rambly answer...does this make sense?

[themculibrary]

Fics Based On Deleted Scenes Masterlist

A Liability (ao3) - missybennet G, 1k

Summary: “The director feels your connection to Captain Rogers is a liability.”

The deleted scene from CA:TWS revisited

A reversal of roles (ao3) - Kodawari N/R, 3k

Summary: Tony mounts a rescue for a Wizard who keeps finding himself in ridiculous situations. Only it doesn't turn out quite like he planned.

Based off the concept art showing Tony and Stephen swapping powers, also the Disney+ footage of them in a deleted scene. You know, the one where they hold hands.

Close Enough to Injure (ao3) - Kodawari N/R, 1k

Summary: He snapped his fingers and he thought that was the end of it. Right after, Tony finds himself in a place that by all logic should not exist. That isn't his main issue, though. His main issue is the person he finds there waiting for him and the accompanying feeling that he somehow failed.

Spoilers!

(Based off a confirmed deleted Endgame scene).

i don't want you like a best friend (ao3) - cryoshia bruno/kamala G, 1k

Summary: an alternate version of ms marvel deleted scene #3: just friends.

I have a plan (ao3) - elu_xx loki/sylvie G, 835

Summary: Loki's thoughts during the deleted scene on Lamentis

it's so painfully obvious (ao3) - slothturtle bruno/kamala G, 1k

Summary: When Bruno turns the corner and walks into the alleyway beside the Circle Q what he isn't expecting to see is Kamala Khan, all decked out in her DIY Captain Marvel getup.

…But, it is a relief, and one he really needed, too.

(or: a canon-divergent fic inspired by cut content from ep2 of Ms. Marvel)

Karma Cafe (ao3) - AnonEhouse pre steve/tony G, 1k

Summary: Based on a deleted scene from the Avengers- Steve sits at a cafe across from Stark Tower to sketch buildings, a waitress flirts with him, and after she walks away, Stan Lee calls him a moron for not getting her number.

Well, months later, Steve is back at the cafe, and Stan continues the conversation.

Tell me one thing, are you alright (ao3) - azaliz G, 824

Summary: Based of a scene in Captain America: Civil War. Steve waits by Bucky’s side and he sings. It’s angsty.

The Grace of Jane (ao3) - fostorsonslover G, 1k

Summary: Aresia and Gilrn are two Asgardian children who happen to stumble upon the crown prince, Thor, and his mortal love, Jane, during her visit. She leaves quite an impression on young Aresia.

Based off of the deleted scene where Jane is determined to analyze the contents of an Asgardian ball.

The past only continues to haunt me (ao3) - heizl steve/bucky G, 1k

Summary: Wanda has her way of getting inside people's heads, in the literal sense. She makes everyone see a part of their past that they can no longer have, a cut deep enough that it can not heal. Steve is shown a life where he'd successfully landed the plane and made it back to Brooklyn. Finding himself back in Bucky's arms.

A what if scenario based off of a scene that was originally discussed to be in AOU. Instead of the vision Steve has about Peggy, it's him and Bucky getting an apartment together.

The Scene That Should Have Been (ao3) - goldenrazzmatazz T, 1k

Summary: At SDCC 2019, The Russo Brothers explained that they had originally planned for Thanos to kill 2014 Captain America, and use his severed head to taunt the remaining Avengers during the final battle in 2023.

Written in a way that it still canonically fits within the film, this is my imagining of that scene. Spoilers for the final battle of Avengers: Endgame.

the way station (ao3) - spacedoutwrites G, 1k

Summary: Tony sees Morgan at the way station after he snaps to save the world (a re-write of that deleted scene from Endgame)

What's For Dessert (ao3) - flyingorfalling pepper/tony M, 2k

Summary: This is a continuation of the deleted goji berries scene, and one of my many headcanons about what could've happened had the stupid Avengers not shown up at Tony's house. You know I like giving them the happiness they deserved.

You know that (ao3) - missingcrowdsof100s bruno/kamala T, 2k

Summary: A peek into Kamala’s mind when Bruno’s about to get taken away in an ambulance after Aamir and Tyesha’s wedding (deleted scene from Episode 3).

[crazy56u]

Warning: I'm on my Fanfiction Shit again. You are about to see more of my bullshit thought processes:

Well, given how at least a couple of people liked the previous post I did about that picture I commissioned (shout out to @thenovika), I figured you’d like to know I have theory-crafted an AU off of it (I already had some of the details in mind when coming up with the image to begin with, but I finally came up with the incident that kicks it off).

And while I admit some of this might be a stretch, and might need fleshing out, this is the basic conceit I have for what I guess I am going to be calling the “Burnout” AU, if only because given how I have things play out, I can’t help but be cute with the name.

And spoilers, this is technically a “Bad End” scenario born out of a lucky break.

If the road to Hell is paved with good intentions, then a tragedy is formed out of a silver lining.

The main linchpin to start off?

Mimic dies during “Bad Guys”.

When Starline is busting everyone out of prison, offering to let them in on, instead of a team, but a “business partnership”, rather than out and out agree, Mimic pretends to agree, but at the first opportunity after getting let out of his cell, Mimic jumps Starline, causing a struggle. Since Starline would’ve expected something like this happening, he cuts his losses.

He kills Mimic then and there, and leaves his body behind as a warning: “I mean business, do not underestimate me.”

The rest of the mini-series plays out more or less as before, minus one player. Starline's Plan A failed, so he decides to kidnap two people and play Frankenstein with them.

(This analogy might come back later, as an aside; besides, literally, Starline was basically Frankenstein, and Surge and Kit are both the Creature. I am not wrong.)

Word of this funnels back to those at the Restoration, and in particular, Whisper.

If you recall, she left after she found out Mimic escaped, as she felt her still being there was now a liability; as such, while she would have trouble fully processing the fact he was dead (even knowing there was a physical body left behind), she would eventually, eventually feel comfortable enough to start moving on, and stay. Her staying means Tangle stays.

Fast forward to the aftermath of “Battle for the Empire”: Starline is fucking dead, Sonic, Tails and Belle have left with Kit, and Surge is in the wild with the Dynamo Cage, and has made it to Central City.

Since Whisper and Tangle haven’t left, they are off doing a different mission for the Restoration, so Whisper is nowhere near Central City to take Surge on, and Jewel hasn’t gotten in contact yet with Sonic and Tails.

However, Blaze is close by (due to wanting to explore more of Sonic’s world while on her vacation), so she goes up to bat.

And… well, I already explained the next bit. Surge realizes she can use the Dynamo Cage to steal her opponent’s powers, albeit more so because this time, Blaze decided to strike her head on early into the fight with a fireball, and the cage sucked it up, something both opponents were shocked to see was possible.

It’s touch and go for a while, but then Surge manages to get her hands onto Blaze directly, and more or less rips the fire straight out of Blaze’s soul.

(This gives me the excuse to share the picture again, shout out to @thenovika once more.)

Now, because Surge is full of fire instead of Wisp energy, things wind up taking a more drastic turn when Sonic and Tails show up; think that boss fight from Sonic Rush on hardcore mode, borderline Dark Phoenix saga shit. Surge isn’t just overcharged with energy, she has been exposed to some borderline next level otherworldly shit.

Tails’ plan in the original issue to knock her out isn’t able to work this time. Not even Kit showing up can change anything, Surge is too far gone, and is seemingly determined to burn down Central City, all while Blaze is clinging on to consciousness in the corner somewhere.

Eventually, Kit manages to get through to Surge, and the two escape to Starline’s base; Sonic and Tails go after. They need to get that cage off in order to save Blaze, even if it means teaming with Eggman.

But, something goes wrong.

During the final struggle to stop Surge, the same thing plays out: she overloads the cage in an attempt at landing the killing blow… and it explodes.

She’s engulfed in flames… and then isn’t. She’s dead.

Kit grabs her, opts to let the others drown, and leaves; Sonic, Tails, Eggman and Metal make it out alive.

Back at Sonic’s house, Blaze snaps back awake… but is still grey. She feels something break inside her.

What none of them realize yet is that, because of the catastrophic failure of the Dynamo Cage, that power had not left Surge. When she died, it died with her.

Frankenstein's monster has died in a fire.

The keeper of the flame has just smoke left to her name.

And all of this is because the biggest asshole around got what was coming to him from the jump.

[scoobydoodean]

The Man Without a Plan: Season 1 Squabbles Dean "Wins" because Sam is being dumb

I just want to point out that the "Dean is dragging Sam everywhere" or the "Dean is bossing Sam around" narrative in season 1 also doesn't work for me because in a lot of the moments where I agree Sam and Dean are squabbling and Dean "wins" the squabble (which he does not always—he concedes when he thinks Sam is right), he "wins" the squabbles because Sam is being... objectively stupid—and Sam usually knows that and it's why he concedes—he is able to recognize, even if he can't voice it, that rage is poisoning his ability to think rationally in a given moment.

1.02 #1: Dean wants to talk to Haley and otherwise investigate the situation surrounding the forest before going straight to the coordinates in the woods so they have a better understanding of what kind of hunt they're walking into. Sam just wants to run into the woods with no plan and no clue of what they're facing. He tries to frame Dean as acting irrationally "Are you cruising for a hookup?" which, makes no sense given Dean doesn't know anything about Haley at this point—not even what she looks like, or her age, or anything about her at all.

1.02 #2: Sam doesn't want Haley and her brother to go in the woods, which is reasonable, but he also has no good plan on how to prevent them from going into the woods other than telling them the truth, which they absolutely aren't going to take seriously—especially not when their brother is missing. We directly see how this doesn't work when, later in the episode, Sam tries to convince everyone to leave the woods by telling them the truth, and only succeeds in escalating a situation with hot-headed Roy and making everyone think he's crazy.

1.03 "Dead In The Water": Sam makes a thinly veiled suggestion that Dean doesn't care enough about finding John, because Dean flirts with a waitress and, in the absence of leads on John, starts looking for a case. Sam's suggestion that he doesn't care enough upsets Dean who argues back fiercely and "wins". Does Sam have any leads on John? No. Does he have any ideas at all on where they should go or even what exactly they should be doing instead of going on the case Dean found? Nah. He is just complaining, at Dean, about them not having any leads, and about Dean specifically, not having found another lead on John yet. It is also worth noting at this point that their only two leads so far (the cases from 1.01 and 1.02) both came from Dean.

1.10 "Asylum": They are so dead on leads that Sam is fed up and suggests they sic the FBI on John's ass (which is an objectively terrible suggestion) but then the moment a potential lead materializes in the form of more coordinates from John, Sam is against going to see if he's there, even though he literally has no better ideas of what they could be doing right then besides sitting around the motel hand-wringing or calling the FBI.

1.21 "Salvation": Sam and Dean squabble over Dean keeping Sam from running into a building that was so on fire that I am very sure Sam would have been dead within seconds had he rushed back in.

1.22 "Devil's Trap": Per the name of the episode, Dean directs them to Bobby's so they can learn how to fight demons. Sam's plan, on the other hand, was for them to stay back at the motel waiting for an unknown number of demons to show up with 3 bullets left in The Colt.

There are a few other squabbles they have where I could see two sides or it's more of a difference in morals, and there's one squabble where I think Sam is right (in 1.16 when Dean says they will be a liability to John and should separate). But I just wanted to point out a lot of these are... not Sam being mad because he has good ideas no one is listening to.

[doberbutts]

As always, good food.

Actually I was thinking about this today with my crew, because none of them are particularly appealing to the tacticool crowd even though they all have pieces of what technically should be.

Sushi is literally the dog to have if you are trying to go it alone in the wild frontier without any human help. Like. That's a significant portion of why the breed was made, and why even Jack London who *inspired many of these guys with his own fantasies* deliberately chose what today many of them would consider possibly the least possible compatible with their lifestyle. A st Bernard/collie mix that lived as a spoiled housepet. You'll see many of these guys are more likely to have fantasies of their own version of Buck looking more like White Fang, ironic considering White Fang is the story about the wolf choosing the simple and domesticated life.

If you are stuck in the rugged wilderness and you need a dog beside you? A swissy is not a bad choice to have next to you. But of course, they are too rounded, too cute, too friendly. With minimal aggression and a whole lot of conflict avoidance, preferring peaceful resolutions and barking at a distance to actual fights, and mostly being down to just hang out until called upon though happy to be included, they're nothing like the high octane sport dogs these guys favor. But you're more likely to find them in the hands of those who do the actual real life homesteading and breaking ground and living off the land, than the vibrating fur missile that is a malinois.

Chihuahuas honestly should be labeled the dogs that can survive easily in a zombie apocalypse. They've survived the collapse of at least two civilizations and you can still find them and their mixes running around ruins and living on their own. They're plucky, sassy, great survivalists, with the same willingness to square up to a threat many times their size, while being resourceful enough to hunt and scavenge their way through life.

But they're gramma dogs intended to sit in the laps of little old Mexican abuelas so they're not interesting enough for these guys either. They'd rather get a patterdale or a jagd or even a jrt even though chihuahuas have proven more than capable of surviving in harsh, unforgiving climates without any human intervention.

And you'd think, surely Jaz the doberman must be interesting to these dudes. And yeah, to a point, though mostly to the nazis within that community. But *my* dobermans, specifically? Nah. Fenris might be coming along with his sport training but he is too friendly and silly for these guys. He enjoys the fight and he loves to bite but also he doesn't want it to be personal, he just wants it to be fun. Phoebe was too scared and thus too weak for them. Creed may have been strong enough for them but not with the training I deliberately put in to make him safe as a service dog. Skoll was too much of a liability, as evidenced by his court case. His original owners may have been among these people we're discussing, considering the documents I have regarding their treatment of him.

And, honestly? Though I do feel more secure with a doberman at my side, I also don't think any of them are a good choice for someone who has the fantasy of surviving the collapse of the western world as a doomsday prepper. Dobermans were never intended to live or serve in these conditions, and so it makes no sense to choose them as the favored breed outside of Cool Points Aesthetic.

The idea of macho so serious pseudo-military dudes keeping terriers is baffling to me, because my family has had many terriers of various breeds and mixes, and the one thing that is necessary for terrier ownership is a sense of humour. They are ridiculous, often very athletic little animals with minds of their own. You need to work with them in order to train them.

I cannot imagine dudes who think 'discipline' is being a caricature of a drill sergeant coping with having a terrier.

I mean sure, but you also have to remember that terriers have been called "gentleman's dogs" and have been part of gentleman's clubs for a very long time. Many of the current terrier breeds we have in the world descend directly from country-club-type dudes breeding their dogs to run game for fun on the weekends, and where the line between "hunting as a pleasure sport" and "my dog enacts mass murder on all small game around my farm" sits is incredibly blurred.

Personally I think it is the reputation of said mass-murdering the small game that is what catches their attention. These types of dudes tend to worship any sort of controlled violence, so they see a JRT gleefully pulling out a squirrel's intestines like silly string and decide to rest their entire masculinities on the fact that they like it when the dog turns a rodent inside out. It's also why they tend to like bitesports, which are just heavily ritualized aggression trained to a predictable pattern.

[holdmytesseract]

Father Feelings 》 The Baby Fever AU

Loki Laufeyson x fem!Reader

Request: "I need more of Loki doting upon the reader while they were pregnant. He would always be around reader & always had his hands on the baby bump & constantly talked to his child inside the womb." - Requested by @aagn360 ! 😄

Summary: Since you discovered that you were pregnant, Loki is super protective and doting upon you...

Warnings: fluff, fluff and fluff

Word Count: 2,2k

a/n: Thank you for this sweet request! 🥰 I really hope you like what I wrote! 😊💚

Tagging: @lokisgoodgirl @lovingchoices14 @evelyn-kingsley @jennyggggrrr @acefeather2002 @lulubelle814 @vbecker10 @theaudacitytowrite @lady-rose-moon @ficitve-sl0th

If you want to be added to my Loki Taglist, let me know! :D

Link to the Baby Fever AU Masterlist

I loved Loki. I really did - with all my heart, but sometimes he was a tad too protective. Especially since I broke the news to him, that we were pregnant. Not that I didn't like it, gods no! But he exaggerated it sometimes...

"Babe..." I literally whined, digging the heels of my hands into my eyes. "Get away from the door and let me go, please! The girls are waiting!" "No." He stated, crossing his arms over his chest. "Why not?" "We discussed that already, darling. I am not letting you go out alone at night, while you are pregnant." I let out a frustrated groan. "And that's okay, babe, but I am not alone and it's just a visit to the cinema! It's not like we are going to a bar with drunk men everywhere, or go on a pub tour. It's not even a mission! It's everything but dangerous!" "Cinemas can be dangerous, too. What if you are choking on popcorn?" Seriously? He pulled the popcorn card? I rolled my eyes, sighing. "Babe... Don't be ridiculous." "I am not being ridiculous." He argued, stepping closer, "I just want my girls to be alright and protected. I don't want anything to happen to you. Or even worse… Lose you..." and placed both his palms on my bump. At his words, my expression changed immediately. There it was... Loki's actual problem. His fear of loss. I gave him a compassionate look, cupping his cheek and grazing my thumb over his sharp cheekbones. "Lokes... you won't lose us, because of a cinema visit. You'll never lose us, I promise." He looked at me; his eyes no longer the ones of a God, but a frightened boy. "Yes?" I nodded and stood on my tiptoes to kiss him softly. "Yes - and besides, what could happen to me? I've got a Black Widow, the Scarlet Witch and the girlfriends of the mighty Thor and the Iron Man by my side. These girls would guard me with their lifes... Trust me, we are protected." Loki squeezed his eyes shut, but nodded. "I can't keep you from going anyway, can I?" "Nope..." I giggled and kissed him again, before I passed him by, heading for the door. "Y/N, please just look after yourself. Call me, if you need me." "Promise." I kissed him a last time, before I left our apartment and went for the communal living room, where the other girls already waited. "Sorry for the delay... Lokes detained me quite a bit." I gave them an apologetic smile. "Let me guess..." Started Natasha with a knowing smirk. "His liability to overprotection?" "Yup." Natasha rolled her eyes, still grinning. "Knew it." "Gods... He's worse than Thor..." Jane stated, giggling. "And even Tony." Pepper said, referring of course to her pregnancy with Morgan. "I hope Viz is not going to be like that, when we decide to have kids..." I sighed, scratched the back of my neck. "I know - and I love him for that, but sometimes it's a tad too much. Although, I can't blame him. He's been through a lot..." "Well, that's quite true..." Agreed Jane. "And it's super cute anyway. I mean... Men and babies, come on!" "Gosh, yes." We all had a laugh together, before Nat linked arms with me and Pepper. "Shall we, ladies?" "With pleasure." I smiled.

The visit to the cinema had just been one example. But there were, of course quite a few more...

I was just standing in front of the printer, waiting for the device to do its job, when I felt a pair of strong hands settling on my hips; palms gliding to the front to rest on the clearly visible baby bump. It caused me to smile. I knew, of course, exactly who that was... "Do you have an appointment, Mr. Laufeyson? You know that no one gets an audience with me without having an appointment." I teased him, knowing how ridiculous he thought of that concept. Loki snorted out a laugh. "I certainly don't care, if I have an appointment or not. I want to see my wife and nobody is going to forbid me that." I giggled softly, "I know that you don't care - and I love it." before I tilted my head to the side, so that I was able to kiss him. "Why are you here, though? It's shortly after ten. Don't you have a meeting about that new mission?" A mischievous smile darted over his face. "Yes, I do, but my clone makes a good work in staring boredly at the presentation of Rogers, so..." "I see, mischief." Loki just chuckled low and pulled me closer. "How are you and our baby girl doing today? I didn't hear you leave this morning." Since I discovered that I was pregnant and therefore couldn't go on missions anymore, I had a talk with my other fellow Avengers and Nick. Together, we decided that I could switch to working for S.H.I.E.L.D in the months, leading up to the birth. I was very happy about this solution. I wouldn't have wanted to just sit at home the whole time and be useless. Gods, no...                                                                                                      I didn't work as an agent, of course. Loki was strictly against it. "Certainly not, darling. I am not letting you work as an agent for S.H.I.E.L.D... Their missions may not be as dangerous as ours, but you never know. You wouldn't be the first agent who get hurt or even killed on a mission." And so, I was now here for the office busywork - but like I said... It was fine for me and my back and feet were thankful for this job as well. "We're fine, just a bit tired." "Didn't you sleep well last night?" Loki's voice was laced with slight worry. "No, no, I did sleep good." I said, shaking my head and shrugged my shoulders. "Maybe it's just the whole being pregnant thing..." "Or you are working too hard?" I knew that was coming... It was always a part of his argumentation. I rolled my eyes, but smiled, before I turned in my lover's embrace. "I am not, Lokes. It's not that. I mean... What do I do? I mostly just sit on a desk and go through reports, sort out files and do other boring office stuff. Nothing too exhausting about this." I wrapped my arms around his neck and placed a soft kiss on his cheek, trying to calm his upcoming overprotection down. But Loki being Loki, he raised a suspicious eyebrow. "Are you sure about that? If not, I'll have a serious talk with Fury and-" Once again, I rolled my eyes with a smile and interrupted his sentence, by pulling him in a passionate kiss. A good way to shut him up. "It is quite rude of you to try to distract me with your sinful lips on mine, darling." I shrugged my shoulders, giving him a cheeky smile. "But it works." "You are lucky, I love you, my queen." I giggled at his sentence, wanted to answer him as a knock suddenly sounded on my door. "Agent Y/L/N?" It was Maria's voice. "Nick wants to talk with you." "I'll be in his office in a minute, Maria! Thank you!" "Alright, I'll tell him." Her steps subsided again. "Well... Seems like I gotta go now - and you too, mister. I heard this mission is important." A smug smile tugged at Loki's lips. "Not nearly as important as my girls." Loki placed both his hands back on my growing baby bump and pressed a lingering kiss on my forehead. My heart threatened to explode with the love I felt for this man. "I love you so damn much, Lokes." He chuckled softly at my words and brushed a loose strand of Y/H/C hair out of my face. "I love you, too, darling. And I love our child." He kissed me once again, before he stepped back, "I'll see you later." and vanished into thin air.

Yeah... His overprotection could be quite a pain in the ass sometimes, but I nevertheless loved him for being exactly like that.

And then there were moments, where I just basked in Loki's doting attention...

I had barely crossed the third month mark, when I woke up one morning, slumped tiredly into the bathroom to change - and then noticed that my S.H.I.E.L.D uniform didn't fit anymore. I just couldn't button up the black trousers... "Oh come ooon..." I huffed, a frustrated groan leaving my lips. I looked down to see where the problem was - and only then noticed my sleepy brain, that my belly was slightly swollen. A tiny baby bump had just appeared, seemingly overnight. I blinked, couldn't quite realise it. I was so stunned, I didn't even notice how the door to the bathroom got opened... "Darling, what's wrong?" Loki's voice suddenly urged to my ears, ripping me out of my trance. "Nothing, babe... It's just, uh..." A smile darted over my face, as the realisation finally dawned on me. "My trousers don't fit anymore. Guess I have to ask Nick for a new pair." My husband frowned. "Why aren't your trousers fitting any- ohhh..." As soon as his eyes landed on the still unbuttoned piece of clothing, it dawned on him as well. "Yeah..." His oceanic blue eyes met mine again, a smile creeping up his face. Before I could even say more, Loki got down on one knee in front of me, so that he was at eye level with my belly. Carefully, he brushed the fabric down my legs again, giving him free access to touch the tiny bump. He pressed both his palms gently against it, completely in love. I just watched him with tears in my eyes and reached out my hand to brush his long, raven-haired curls back; enjoying this precious moment. When his orbs met mine again, they were also brimming with tears. Oh, how much I loved this vulnerable, soft side of him. He smiled a teary smile at me, before he redirected his attention to the tiny life, growing inside of me. I felt how his lips grazed my skin, peppering the bump with soft kisses. "I love you, Y/N. And I love this baby so much. How did I ever deserve you?" I cupped his cheeks in my palms, tracing his sharp features with my thumb. "You deserve the world, my love. You've been through so much. Life didn't always treat you kind, I know. But not anymore. You've got me now; we've got this kid - and we will be a wonderful family." Loki didn't answer, stayed silent for a few moments. "You are incredible, darling, do you know that?" I had to giggle at his words. "Yeah, I know. You told me before, babe." Loki stood up again, took my hands in his. "This is all I ever wanted. You and that baby - this life - is my true glorious purpose." A tear escaped the corner of my eye, clearly triggered by his loving words. I stood on my tiptoes to capture his lips with mine.

From that day on, he used every opportunity to touch and kiss my baby bump - even speaking from time to time with Ella. It was the cutest thing ever, and I enjoyed every second of it...

I couldn't tear my eyes off the sweet sight in front of me. It was already quite late. All the lights were out, except my bedside lamp. I laid in bed, actually wanted to read, but then I got joined by my husband, and now? Well now, he was laying on his stomach, between my legs. He used my left thigh as a pillow, while one of his hand was intertwined with mine, the other was draped protectively over my baby bump. He had snatched the book out of my hands, wanted to read for us, but now, soft snores were escaping his lips. He just slept in like that, while reading. It was too cute to handle.

I just stared at him, with a smile on my lips - until I felt suddenly a strong kick against my bladder, causing me to hiss in pain and move, what in return woke up Loki again. I felt how he stirred and slowly lifted his head. "Is everything alright, love?" He asked in a deep, sleepy voice. "Yes, Ella's just been kicking me, is all. Go back to sleep." "She kicked?" "Uh.Huh." I saw how Loki propped himself up, got on his knees, the muscles in his bare upper body flexing quite deliciously. Sleepily, he rubbed his eyes to fully wake up, before he placed both his palms back on my baby belly. "Well, hello there, sweet princess." He spoke in a soft voice, receiving a soft nudge against his palm in return, causing him to chuckle. "Can't you sleep, baby girl?" Another nudge. "Why not, huh? Was it because I stopped reading to you and your mama?" Ella kicked me even stronger. "Ow!" Loki chuckled and pressed a kiss on top of my bump. "I take that as a yes. Sorry, my darling." Loki grabbed the book, which had almost fallen off the bed after he had slept in and opened it, picking up his reading where he left. I just smiled, thinking to myself, what a wonderful man I had by my side. I couldn't have wished for a better man to be the father of sweet Ella.

[advernia]

WHAT CHANGED YOUR BELIEF(S)?

ONE —

There is nothing you can do when it comes to height. Advantage or disadvantage, only one can apply. But that is all to it - the rest of a fight will depend wholly on your efforts.

That was true. Sort of, kind of, maybe. But that did nothing to calm the irritation he'd always felt for those above him, quite literally.

Honor in battle is subjective. What one would call underhanded or dishonorable is the break of a stalemate for others. A chance to find an opening. Or perhaps it is simply a strategy. To make it simple... in the heat of battle, your will to win or survive shall become your drive.

It sounded all pretty dramatic. Not like he'd find himself in a life or death situation anytime soon, but... yeah, he'll never know. There were all sorts of people in Night Raven College. Who's to say that he wouldn't end up fighting a couple of them in the course of four years?

Remember that in a fight, you should not take anything for granted. Again, your height would prove to be a disadvantage against taller opponents, but do not take it as a liability. Use your smaller frame to your benefit. Do not dismiss anything as useless or impossible until you have tried it.

He stares at the length of his arms, the stretch of his legs. So maybe, if just maybe, he doesn't get taller one day... he had to rely on what was left of him. He's not that burly or that strong at all. Stamina maybe average. But he could improve. He had to improve.

Epel stares at the setting sun, at the long stretch of ground as far as the eye can see. He pushes himself off the grass and moves a steady pace forward, a steady jog onwards.

"Alright... gotta head back to the dorm!"

TWO —

When asked what he makes of the fae, he speaks of the legacies they have, of what they have done until they grew great enough to create the home he lives in, the great Valley of Thorns.

When asked what he makes of the mermen, he speaks of how wide the waters flow onto every area of Twisted Wonderland, of the way mermen far and wide have inhabited each part of the seas and turned it into their homes.

When asked what he makes of the beastmen, he speaks of the wide breadth of their species and their capabilities, of how they are able to uphold generations of withstanding tradition by making their philosophies into the core foundation of their individual societies.

When asked what he makes of the ghosts, he speaks of the traces of history given form, of the strange manner that they are able to exist time forwards but are fragments of what was backwards.

Ask him of others, as well - he will speak in the words of history and of time. He answers in a manner that does not address the question in itself, but what he says urges an opinion, encourages an image to be formed. Create your own answer from his response, it appears.

But when asked what he makes of humans, he speaks differently. Vaguely, even. The color he uses to describe the fae, the shrewdness he notes from the mermen, the energy he attributes to the beastmen, the elusiveness he points to the ghosts... he gives no similar remarks of them to mankind.

What then, does he truly make of humankind?

THREE —

It's like... what time was it? Kalim turns his head to one side of the room, where a clock hung from above the classroom doorway. Oh, eight minutes left. Eight minutes till class. Basic Astrology class. Basic Astrology class and its -

"Oh man, it's nearly time," he says with a small laugh, fingers moving about in small random gestures. Sitting beside him, Silver gives a glance with eyes half open.

"You seem jittery," Silver covers his mouth briefly, letting out a small yawn before speaking again. "Is something the matter, Kalim?"

"Oh, nothing's wrong! You know, not wrong wrong. It's just that Astrology's next, that's all!"

"I see. I didn't know you liked Astrology."

"Haha, it's alright, I guess!" Kalim scratches the back of his head, eyes flitting now and then to the doorway. "I'm real nervous about the quiz today, though."

Silver stares blankly at Kalim. "... Quiz?"

Kalim stares back, wide-eyed. "Uh, yeah. Today."

The two stare at each other for a few more seconds in silence until Kalim takes out his textbook from his bag, flipping through pages quickly.

"Don't you worry, Silver! I'm sure we can go over some of the content together! There's still some time!"

"Th-that would be helpful, thanks."

Kalim stops at a page, messy notes scattered among the margins of the paper. Silver eyes the circled words and underlined phrases too, skimming through the footnotes under them.

"Can you read my writing? Sorry if it's a bit of a mess! I tried putting my notes on a notebook, but I still ended up writing on my book last night anyway..."

"Ah, no, it's fine. You've written quite a lot, though. You seem to have studied hard for this."

"Haha, you think? It was my first time pulling an all-nighter on my own, too! There's still some parts I can't understand well, like this section, but I think this portion says something like this..."

FOUR —

"Jaaamilll!"

The loud scream echoes across the corridor, finds its way into the kitchens, slips itself into Jamil's ears. Any second now, Jamil sighed as he kept stirring the pot in front of him. Oh right, did I add the...

The sound of hurried footsteps getting louder, then they stop.

"Jamil!"

"Kalim," Jamil replies dryly, sparing a quick look at the doorway before reaching out for a bottle of spice. "What is it."

"Hey, hey! Oh, that smells good! Is it dinner? But before that!" Kalim steps a few paces behind Jamil, grinning. "Did you guys have that quiz in Astrology today?"

"We did," Jamil pops the bottle open and shakes it down a few times, a reddish powder sprinkling down onto the stew. Satisfied, he closes the bottle and sets it back on a rack. "What about it?"

"Hehe... look at this!"

The frantic tapping on his shoulder has Jamil turning around, and bam! A piece of paper is all but nearly shoved to his face.

"Ta-dah! I got a 68 this time! It's way lower than my usual scores when you tutor me, but hey, I passed!"

Ah, so this was the reason he asked me to ready a whole pot of tea last night... and why he was up all night yesterday.

... Hmph. Turns out he can put in some effort when it matters.

Jamil takes a few steps back, looks at the grin on Kalim's face and the proud manner he held onto his paper.

"Not bad. You still have to do better than that, though."

Kalim tilts his head to the side. "I was gonna ask about that! What did you get, Jamil?"

The Vice Head smirks, focus going back to stirring the stew.

"A 92."

"Whaaaaaaaat!? That's super high!"

1: epel reappears for this batch! here's everyone's context:

epel -> lilia's advice. (see: lilia lab coat card)

malleus -> ah, let time tell.

kalim -> jamil's overblot. (post ch4)

jamil -> proof of effort. (post ch4)

[revenant-dumpster-fire]

Canine (Revenant x Reader)

Part 2 of 2 of the chapter “Styptic & Canine”. [AO3 Link to full chapter]

Theme: Revenant introduces the reader to his makeshift family as he turns up the spice level, but an unfortunate run in with a creep ruins most of the day.

Warnings: Graphic content, physical male dominance, threats of violence, blood, descriptions of violence, sexual references, sexual harassment, sharp objects, pain, bipolar, depression, mentions of mania, general romantic fluff.

Reader's Notes: Revenant (Apex Legends) x Reader, reader is female.

Writing Notes: This post was too big. 18K words. This is part 2 of a larger chapter that is “Styptic & Canine”. I’m posting it in halves so Tumblr doesn’t die. Also, yes, this chapter is where I start raising the heat. My intent was to boil the frog, but Tumblr made me split right where I first turn on the gas stove.

Navigation: First Chapter | Previous Part (Styptic & Canine) | Next Chapter

You regain consciousness to a mild shake, his hands around each of your cheeks and his frame vaulted over your body in a sitting position.

"Oh dear, little skinsuit, what was that about?" His voice drips with some kind of sadistic humor.

"What was what about?" The morning light was shining through the skylight. He obviously let you sleep in a bit, for which you were grateful. You couldn't remember any dreams though, it was all blank.

"Don't play stupid, you must know." He's way too into this. "I want to know if it was me."

"I really don't remember. Why, what did I do?"

He lurches back in some kind of cruel delight, pulling his hands away to cup around his own face, accentuating his joy.

"Then maybe you'll know the answer to this: who is 'daddy'?"

Your face gets hot instantly, now you know why he's so interested. He has prime material to hold over your head for days. You have one potential way out and he isn't likely to buy it.

"I never met my father, so I'm not sure..." You try.

"Oh, I guessed as much. But this wasn't that kind of daddy." He places each of his hands on the sides of your waist, making you blush harder. "Your hips were absolutely reeling. I could hear how much you were loving it. You still smell like lust. So, I must know... who is the lucky one to have the title of 'daddy'?" Your face is burning. Your attempt to get out of this has definitely and utterly failed.

"I don't know! I've never even--" You cut yourself off, realizing that saying more is only playing into his game.

"Oh please, you must tell me." He leans over to whisper in your ear, curling over you in a seductive manner. "I'll keep it a secret, I promise. I just want to know who makes you writhe like that. Clearly I could learn something." This asshole. Your face actually hurts it's so hot. You can't get out of this, and you don't even have an answer for him. You've never even called anyone that before.

"Please, can I get up?" You beg, hoping it can just be over.

"Oh no, dear," You feel yourself screaming internally as he nuzzles his mask against the side of your face, "I can't let you do that. No, no... Not until you humor me." He presses his body into you, and you audibly whimper. "Call me daddy."

You're dead. You have to be dead. This can't be real. You can't humor him, but you have to humor him. Why is he like this? If you say it really fast, maybe it'll be okay. Maybe he'll accept it.

"Can I get up...?" You choke. "...daddy..." You didn't say it fast, but you said it with zero confidence, which hopefully dampens his power trip.

He throws himself off of you, laughing something fierce. His guffaw is loud, cruel, and pure delight. He's completely overtaken by it, laying back beside you, almost twitching in hilarity. He can't control himself as he lifts his hand as if to wipe away a tear.

He shuts down again, turning limp.

You jump out of bed, giving yourself distance from his metal sarcophagus, knowing whatever comes next might not be pleasant. You make your way to the computer desk, sitting on the office chair, waiting to see what he does this time.

His chassis begins to whirr and cracks into movement, his arms grabbing at air beside him as he tests every limb in violent bends and swings. The static begins in his voice, before suddenly slipping into something audible.

"You-you moved away." His empty optics seem to stare at you from a distance as he sits up. "I wanted to hold-hold you again..." His tone was soft, but his vocals were still skipping. "Shame, daddy will get you next-next time."

His eyes come back to life, and he's aware again.

"Well, just say how you really feel then, huh?" You jab back, waiting to see how he reacts. He chuckles a little, a mere echo of the laugh that forced him to restart.

"Well, I'll make it up to you. How do you feel about making a trip to meet my little family?"

"Family? I thought--"

"Oh, not like that, of course. Just the closest thing I have." He smiles smugly at you, seeing an opportunity. "You don't need to worry, no one competes with you."

Damn blush, you're going to turn red permanently if he doesn't stop.

He vaults out of bed, making his way over to you.

"I let you sleep in, thankfully what you're wearing is ideal for the job already." He offers his hand. When you take it, he hoists you to your feet. "It should help with any sad feelings too, how are those going by the way?"

"With how things have been going, I haven't had the chance to be depressed..." You're almost embarrassed that his plan to keep throwing you off your depression is working so well.

"Good, keep showering me with all your attention then." He squeezes your hand a bit before letting go. At this rate he could make you manic again if he keeps pushing it. You're just not sure if you should let him. "I've arranged a ride for us, since I don't think you can run this far."

"Oh, alright, sure. Do I need to do anything? I feel kinda like I should take a shower..." It's very strange that you're going someplace wearing dirty clothes with no shower.

"Trust me, you'd be better off doing that after."

• • • •

Revenant can't drive, apparently. To the point in which he's actually enough of a liability that he's not allowed to drive anywhere outside of the Apex Games. He wasn't very happy with the idea of having a chauffeur, but the legal team was able to convince him to accept being driven in exchange for a vehicle that separated him from the driver. That vehicle was a limo. A giant, stretch limo. A very luxurious limo. Versus you, who is a mess: dressed in a stained shirt you slept in and you haven't washed your hair. This is embarrassing.

"This dumb thing is almost ten yards long, and you have to be right up against me, don't you?" Revenant is sitting far in the back corner, and you've wedged yourself right between him and the corner, trying your best to hide yourself from any phantom that might see you.

"I'm in a limo and I look like I belong in a garbage truck." You duck away from the windows, shoving your face up against the black leather of his waist, careful to avoid the support pistons.

"Literally no one can see you except me." He scoffs, crossing his arms. "The windows are blacked out, the driver's privacy window is closed, and nobody is here but us." His eyes glare down at you, but he seems to be moderately entertained by your distress.

"I look homeless." You pause. "Again."

Revenant laughs at that, uncurling his arms to mess up your hair in some kind of adoring but condescending gesture.

"You're fine, trust me. Nobody is going to see you." He pauses from messing with your hair. "I have a stop coming up, just stay in here and I'll be back with some supplies."

"Be fast, I need to hide behind someone and you're the only one here." You're being intentionally dramatic, but if it makes him laugh it's worth it. He sighs equally as dramatically, clearly playing along.

The vehicle hovers to a stop, and Revenant wisps out the door, closing it behind him before you even get a sense for where you are. The windows really are blacked out, you can't see anything through them.

Now alone, you shrink into the back corner of the seats going around the vehicle. There's a television and what appears to be a loaded bar, multicolored LED lights lining the whole thing, and starlights in the ceiling. The seats are all made with beautiful leather and have a triangular pattern stitched in the surface. The floor has carpeted mats that feel a bit more plush than the average car. You consider rummaging through the bar, but you're not sure if anyone is going to charge you an arm and a leg for alcohol you can get cheaper anywhere else. You sigh and lean back, shrinking further in the seat.

The door on the opposite corner as you clicks open, and Revenant crawls in, dragging a massive green bag behind him, barely managing to get it in the car.

"Is that a body bag?!" You curl up in the fetal position on your seat, recoiling away from the door.

"Yes." He gruffly huffs as he drags the apparent bagged corpse into the limo, weighing the whole vehicle down. He gets it in the middle of the floor, then drops it with a thud and throws himself down beside you. With his weight, you feel like you nearly missed being crushed. His arm rests on your opposite shoulder and you shudder, giving him a concerned stare. "Oh shush, I paid for it."

"You what?" You whimper, completely at a loss of what you're experiencing.

"It'll be fine, I can't rightly show up without any offering." He shrugs his shoulders, pulling you closer. He seems to be very pleased with himself, smugly teasing you.

"Offering?! Is this a cult?!" You whisper aloud, not necessarily expecting an answer. He laughs again, enjoying your mental wheels spinning. The limo gets moving again, handling the extra weight very easily.

"Oh, no, that's for next time." He's obviously teasing now. "I'll make sure you're in a lovely white dress to soak in the blood of our sacrifices for that occasion." He shoves you up against his chassis, growling to rattle his torso against you. "Then, when we're all done, I'll make official my new nickname."

"Oh, fuck you." You let slip under your breath, causing him to guffaw openly again. He catches his synthetic breath, rubbing his mask in the same motion a human would.

"You've gotten so comfortable with me so quickly, what happened?" His question must be rhetorical, because he doesn't leave much of a pause for an answer. He jumps right back into teasing. "I'll have to tame you by any means necessary if you're going to keep being so temptingly coy." His hands cup around your waist and you crack a sigh, turning away from him, trying to focus on anything other than how red in the face you must be.

"Do you regularly flirt in front of fresh corpses?"

"Awww..." He grabs your chin and pulls your face back to meet his, bringing his visage down close enough to feel his breath. "Are you kink-shaming me? Or are you just being a prude little tease?" He pauses before snickering to himself, losing his flirtatious composure. "You're so red, you practically match me." His loss of composure is cute enough to get to you. You giggle a little.

The car comes to a gentle stop, and Revenant immediately gets to pulling the corpse out. The body bag is way larger than makes sense, it almost looks as if it could fit someone Revenant's size. Yet the body inside still seems way too big. You're not sure what it is, but you're a bit too afraid to ask at the same time. Revenant eventually gets the bag to the edge of the vehicle before throwing it over one of his shoulders, forcing his shoulder spikes to flip downward out of the way. He nearly topples over at the shifting weight, meaning whatever is in the bag is excessively heavy.

As you crawl out of the car after him, you smell the fresh air of being nowhere near civilization. You see lots of flat lands broken up by woods with a giant abandoned warehouse in front of you. The warehouse has holes rusted throughout its sides and the door is ajar, the hinges rusted so it no longer swings. The air is fresh, and you look around, unable to find signs of other humans close by. Revenant waves away the limo. It turns around, kicking up dust off the unpaved path before zooming off into the horizon. He waits until the limo is far enough before pulling you close.

"You have to listen to everything I say, understand?" He's dead serious. You nod, suddenly concerned over his change in tone. "Don't try to protect me, I'll be okay. Scream if and only if you feel pain." You search for any joking tone in his voice, but there is none. "But above all else, listen to me. Don't play stupid, just obey." He looks to you, demanding acknowledgement. You nod, determined and concerned at this new development.

He walks over to the door, making his way inside carefully as you follow. He throws the body bag on the concrete floor of the entryway, causing a morbid slapping sound as it hits the ground. Revenant kneels down and begins ripping the bag open. You take a moment to look around.

This whole warehouse is dark beyond belief. There seems to be different rooms, but the rusted-through holes in the wall allow you to get negligible peeks into nearby rooms. The roof has not decayed at all yet, but it means no light is entering the building, making the deeper rooms be cast in an oppressive darkness. From the outside this warehouse looked massive, this room must be only one of dozens. The silence is scary, there isn't a single sound of life apart from you and Revenant, but you know better. Silence means something doesn't want to be found, and is inevitably a sign of life. Silence only happens when a hunter has scared everything else into silence. You might have learned that from Bloodhound, but you can't be sure. Either way, it's anxiety-inducing.

Revenant stands tall, pulling the scraps of the bag away from a giant bisection of a carcass. It appears to be beef, in the same state butchers will sell to grocers or restaurants. It doesn't smell bad, but it definitely smells like raw meat. Revenant grabs you around the shoulder, pulling you into a very controlling embrace. He whistles, or something like it.

"C'mere puppies!" As soon as he says it, you hear the sound of many nails skittering around the concrete flooring, making their way to the room you're in. Revenant squeezes you close as the pack comes into sight.

"Revenant! Those are not dogs!" You can't help but whisper in shock as the pack stops in your line of sight, trying to get a read on whether you're a threat or not.

Prowlers are utterly terrifying predators. They can be described as something between a wild dog and a tiger with the hide of a dinosaur. Their quadrupedal forms stand tall enough to meet you eye-to-eye at the largest, but the females and younger prowlers come up to your waist or knees instead. This subspecies has a beautiful, peacock-like furl behind their ears that stand on end when they see you, making them look as kaleidoscopic as they are scary. Their fangs could make a saber tooth tiger swoon, and their colors remind you of the legendary Birds of Paradise. Their long tails flick back and forth in concern, trying to understand who you are or if they should fight you. The largest male growls so deeply that Revenant sounds like a kitten in comparison, and it approaches both of you ahead of the rest of the pack.

"Rev..." You start to step behind him. This creature could very easily kill you in a single bite to the neck, and he was already tall enough to reach it.

"Shush, listen to me." He whispers to you, using his grip around your back to shuffle you back in place and to his side, pulling you against him in an uncomfortable grip. "Hey Six, this is mine." He addresses the massive male prowler approaching you, almost presenting you to him.

You hold your breath as Six sniffs your face, neck, and chest, trying to figure out what you are and why you're here. The other prowlers begin to enter the room, not even paying attention to the food in preference of figuring out the newcomer. Six's tail begins to rise up, flicking the tip back and forth as he finds you acceptable as a guest. You receive a lick right on the face as a final assurance, and the other prowlers swarm you to meet you.

You grab onto Revenant like your life depends on it. All of these prowlers could kill you, probably even the young ones too. It doesn't matter if they're all flicking their tails happily, or panting with smiles and tongues out, or excitedly greeting you. They can kill you and you're painfully aware of it.

"Calm down, seriously. You were fine meeting me for the first time, but a bunch of little puppies scare you?" Revenant releases his hold on you, but you don't return the favor.

"These are not puppies!" You try to whisper at him, but he might not be able to hear you over the crowd you've attracted. He pushes down on your shoulders, causing you to lose your grip on him and fall into a sitting position. Now all the prowlers can meet you eye-to-eye or tower over you. You're inundated with licks, and no amount of guarding your face with your arms will save you.

"You'll be fine. They're my pack, and they'll respect what's mine." You can barely hear him over the assault of affection.

As the excitement begins to settle, some of the larger prowlers peter off to check out the meat, leaving the younger ones to look after you. A tiny pair of kits you didn't see before bound up to your lap and hop in, cuddling against your stomach. For such scary adults, the babies are unbearably cute. You're not sure if you can touch them or not, so you simply let them roll around in your lap, slapping at each other like the siblings they are. Six comes back to you, his maw covered in blood from the beef.

"I figured he'd notice." You hear Revenant mutter as Six inspects your arm and calf, licking at the puncture wounds a little. "I guess my hypocrisy was going to catch up eventually." Six carefully sniffs the skin before shooting a glare and deep growl at Revenant. "Don't move a muscle, no matter what." He instructs you.

Six lunges at Revenant's leg, catching the metal below the knee joint in his bite. Revenant buckles and hits the ground. You jump a little and whine to yourself, but you stay as reserved as you can otherwise. The kits notice and begin pawing at you, trying to understand your reaction. Six drags Revenant a few feet from you as Revenant makes stifled sounds reminiscent of excruciating pain. You want to step in, but you obey orders. You hear the moaning of the metal in his leg beginning to bend for a few moments, before Six releases him. Revenant sits up, grappling his leg before Six chomps the opposite arm near the shoulder, causing Revenant to try to reel away in shock and pain. Again, Six growls as the metal bends beneath his bite, Revenant taking the pain as best as he can. Six releases, gives a growling bark to Revenant, and returns to you to lick your wounds more.

"Oh, now aren't you just poetic." Revenant finally makes out between what sounds like heavy breaths. "You got me in the same places." He's cradling his calf and arm, in the exact same places and sides as you were hurt. "I knew I was going to pay for that, but you didn't have to be that literary about it."

Six turns to him and makes whining sounds that mimic human speech. You've heard of Siberian Huskies making these noises, but never prowlers. Either way, it sounds sassy, and Revenant seems to relax knowing he's back in good graces.

"Yes, I know I taught you the same lesson a long time ago, but still..." He talks to them like anyone would talk to their dog. "You didn't have to be that extra about it." Six flicks his head at him before returning to your wounds, the kits now back to play-fighting each other.

"So, yeah, these are my puppies." He finally addresses you again. Most of the other prowlers are now taking turns at the carcass, seemingly following a hierarchy. You want to correct him, but you don't. He's clearly going to keep insisting that they're puppies. "This is Six, he's the sixth alpha of a pack I've helped raise over the past few decades. Zero was the first prowler that accepted me, and One was his puppy--the first alpha."

Six retires from your wounds, taking the two kits from you to go eat with their mother.

"There's no way you can be depressed around these guys. If there's any creature more aware of the emotional state of other beings, I dare them to come forward. My pack is perfect." He genuinely sounds overjoyed that you're getting to meet them all, he seems very proud. "I even raised them to respect females... Even if that did bite me back today." He huffs a bit.

"So, wait, you've been raising prowlers out here for decades?" You finally make a sound, Six and a few others look over at you for a moment, surprised by your more relaxed voice.

"Yeah, although they're fairly independent. I'm more like an elder to them, rather than directly in their hierarchy. I bring them food, not that they need me to, and they come along with me when I need company or extra help." He scoots himself close to you, letting his damaged leg drag. You get a closer look and see that the metal is both punctured and buckled on both his arm and leg. "They've been a passion project of mine ever since I first met Zero. They make me feel a bit of humanity." That last sentence is spoken with a level of reverence. You let the silence fall for a moment.

"You know, this is probably a scientific breakthrough in some field that nobody has ever managed before. You have a wild pack of prowlers that accept you and the people you bring in." He seems surprised by your lavish praise. "This could change our understanding of prowlers forever."

"Well, it helps that I'm nigh unkillable," he knocks on his metal chest, making a banging sound, "and honestly you're allowed in because as far as they're concerned, you're my mate." He wraps his arm around you possessively as the kits crawl back into your lap, now well-fed and cuddly. "That's why they don't mind you around the little ones." He sees you eyeing them as they roll around, trying to get comfortable. He picks one up, holding it in his hands like it's a precious jewel. It yips at him for attention, so he scratches behind it's tiny furls with his spare hand. "I think this one will be Seven, unless the next litter has an even bigger boy."

His adoration for these predators is absolutely identical to how so many people feel about their pets. The choice to love prowlers is a bit unconventional, but he is very much a man stuck in a metal body--humanity intact--in these moments. You are growing increasingly fond of him, seeing something beautiful beyond the cruel simulacrum assassin you once knew. He catches you staring.

"Go ahead, pick her up." He gestures to the other kit in your lap, actually looking a little jealous of her brother. At first, you tremor at the thought of picking her up wrong, but a sudden wave of confidence comes from nowhere. You scoop her up in your arms, bringing her up to your chest and cradling her. She immediately begins to squirm with delight and lick at your hand as you rub her head and chin.

"Was that all instinct?" He pauses, and you tilt your head at him, confused by the question. "You were shaking, then suddenly you weren't. Is that what maternal instinct looks like?" You're a bit shocked he saw that much.

"I'm not sure. I'm not usually around babies of any kind." You confess, but now you suspect the same thing he does. The baby female prowler reaches for your face, barely managing to touch your chin before you lower your face to meet her. She reacts with tiny licks on your nose while you tickle her belly. Revenant is the one staring now.

Revenant places the baby male in your arms next to the female, allowing them to both vie for your coveted attention. Some of the females come over and snuggle up next to you, laying on and around you, while the males and Six lie next to Revenant. Revenant leans back, eventually resting his head on the flank of one of the larger males, while another rests its head on his shoulder.

"You should lie down, let the puppies run around." He instructs you, briefly pointing to the kits in your arms. "Your body isn't heavy enough to bother anyone, just lay on whoever seems the most comfortable."

You look around, seeing a lot of intimidating warm bodies around you, so you cheat and carefully lay under Revenant's arm. You hear him audibly sigh, bothered that you're still worried but unable to chide you. The kits use you to crawl up on Revenant and slide down his metal torso to the other side, Six audibly purring when they land in his vicinity. Maybe a prowler would make a better pillow than a newly busted up metal arm and the concrete floor. You shiver a bit at the sheer power of these creatures, running your fingers over the metal holes in Revenant's arm, causing him to wince away from your touch.

"Does it hurt?" You whisper, hoping not to draw any prowler's attention.

"Yeah, it hurts a lot. My body can feel pain just like you skinsuits." He inhales in distress as you pull your fingers away from the damage. "It honestly feels like the flesh and muscle is torn off, like the bone is crushed and splintered, and like I'm bleeding out on the ground. But I know it's not real. It's never real."

"I'm sorry, I didn't know this would happen." You pull yourself into more of a ball, shuddering at the thought of that level of pain.

"It's not your fault, I instilled this level of protectiveness into them." Revenant pulls his arm away as one of the female prowlers crawls over you and lays on top of you, purring as if to comfort you. "Anyone who hurts one of the girls gets it back sevenfold." You roll onto your back, the prowler readjusting to lay on your belly, purring and licking your neck. "So you can stop being sad about it. They can sense it in you. If you don't want the attention, you can't let yourself be distressed." He sits up, looking down at you smugly while a second prowler writhes across the ground to get close enough to lick your cheek. Are these creatures really this intuitive?

Six notices Revenant sitting up to watch you and meanders over to see the small commotion. Six shoves himself between you and Revenant, apparently sensing some kind of disagreement. Six positions his paws on your neck, allowing you to feel the enormous size of his claws. One flex and you're dead. These things must be three inches of blade, all with a hypodermic tip. Six turns his head to Revenant and makes a sound somewhere between a huff and a growl before shoving his snout against your ear to purr. He bares his fangs while doing so, allowing you to feel how long and menacing they are. You wince away from him, pushing your face into the other prowler's licks, but Six just shoves his snout further to reconnect with you.

"He seems to think I should be more comforting, you're way too nervous for his liking. Good luck being depressed now." He sounds like he's enjoying this, shrugging to himself before he places his hand on your free arm. "Just calm down, they're not going to hurt you."

"I could die from a single flick of the wrist." You carefully say, feeling your vocal chords vibrate against Six's massive nails.

"That doesn't stop you from getting close to me." His hand glides up and down your arm. You don't have a response for him, so you stay quiet. "Like I said, just scream at any discomfort and someone is getting a swift dose of justice." He lies back on the same prowler as before, changing his position to avoid disrupting Six.

"I can't scream if my throat is slit."

"Give it time, you'll understand."

• • • •

Three prowlers is apparently the amount it takes to bring back a stick. It can be more if the stick is longer, but this giant branch is the maximum size you can throw. They hop together, all their jaws in a line across the branch, their fangs clutched around the wood. They carefully drop it at your feet, waiting expectantly for you to try throwing it again. You do your best to throw it, but between your injured arm and the weight of it, you struggle to get it as far as you'd like. The area behind the warehouse is a small yard with enough room for fetch, surrounded by thick forests over a few small hills.

"You throw like a child." You hear Revenant mock you, and you turn around to shoot him a glare. Six is resting in his lap and he has the mother prowler at his side, accepting the belly rubs he offers while the kits sleep. "I can throw farther than you from here, without even standing." You roll your eyes, knowing he's probably right.

Two new prowlers got in on the stick this throw, bounding back to you for another throw. You have eight prowlers all fighting to be one of the three on the stick, but they all seem to be having fun. Four of the young adults are off in the woods playing tug of war by themselves, making a total of sixteen prowlers you've now met. This pack is unusually huge from what little you know. You wonder if Revenant's meddling has something to do with it.

You pick up the branch and drag it over to Revenant, curious to see if he'll back up his claim.

"Alright, go for it." You hand him the end of the branch, and he chucks it far enough to lob over the entire yard and land somewhere in the woods. He snickers as the pack disappears in the darkness after it. You watch, hearing the branch collide with the trees, making rustling and snapping sounds as it catches in them. "So, what if you just got it stuck in a tree?"

"Oh, I thought you wanted me to show off for you." Revenant coos sarcastically. "Give them a few minutes, they can climb." You sigh and shrug, waiting for any sign of them coming back. "Do you want to go home?"

"No, not yet."

"Oh, oh!? You aren't scared of my puppies anymore?" He says between chuckles.

"Shut it." You growl at him, finally getting to use his catch-phrase against him.

"Are you sure? It's getting late." It was beginning to be late in the afternoon, coming up on when you'd normally be wanting dinner. In truth you hadn't eaten in over a day, but depression made it so you never wanted to eat anyway. You'd been playing with his prowlers for hours now, fully accepted by them. You now felt pretty confident in your safety around them, but their stature was still a bit menacing.

"At least let me see if they can bring back that stick." You hear some rustling in the woods, before the eight prowlers burst out of the brush with the original branch and a second, equally massive one. Now only two are left out of being able to hold a part of a stick. They drop both at your feet.

You try to throw the first but it only makes it a short ways, all the prowlers fighting for it. You hand the second to Revenant, and he throws it back into the woods completely out of sight. They all abandon the first stick in preference for the farthest one.

"Maybe you should be doing this." You hunch over, a bit defeated and tired.

"You're doing fine. Anyways, we should wrap up soon. You probably need that shower and I have something I need to do before tomorrow." Revenant starts to get up, prompting Six to get off of him while huffing and shaking himself awake. "Also, you need food."

You sigh, wanting to argue but knowing you can't.

"I'm calling back your ride. We need to get all these guys hidden in the warehouse as to not cause any alarm." He pulls some kind of cellular device out of his pocket on his belt and presses a few buttons. He then proceeds to shuffle you back towards the warehouse, prompting Six, the mother, and the two kits to follow. As you get to the side entrance, Revenant turns around and emits another whistling sound, inundated with his usual modulated twinge. He steps inside with you and the other twelve prowlers come flooding in behind him.

He pets each of them as they make their way in, saving Six and the kits for last. He really does love these creatures. You sheepishly and carefully pet Six as you go to leave, but only because he demands it by butting his head into your hand to make it clear.

Finally, you step outside with Revenant, going towards the dirt road that got you here.

"You look like absolute hell." Revenant jabs. You pull your hair back and try to control it a bit better, but it refuses to cooperate. It's probably stuck from all the prowler saliva all over you, hair absolutely included. Not to even mention your shirt and pants look like you got tackled and ground into the dirt by an entire rugby team. Your shirt was already stained, now it's dusty, dirty, stained, and has green grass streaks. Your shoes are probably just as bad, but they're cheap sneakers so you don't really care much.

"I know, I really need a shower. Maybe two." You give up on your hair. It's just going to be a mess.

"Take as long as you need. I'll be back soon after you. I hope you don't mind riding back alone." You've made it to the dirt road, and you can see the excessively luxurious limo in the distance, kicking up dirt.

"You're not coming?"

"No, I have one last thing to do before the match tomorrow. It'll be worth it, and I think you'll like it too." Revenant seems like he won't budge on the matter.

The limo pulls up and he opens the door for you, and you crawl in alone, making sure you stay as far in the corner as possible. You don't really like the thought of being in here alone, but you have no choice in the matter. He shuts the door and you lose sight of him through the blacked-out windows. The limo starts to move, making a sharp turn and hitting high speeds over the terrain, probably kicking up tons of dust in the meantime. You have nothing to stare at, so you just curl up to yourself and wait to make it back.

"You seem a bit meek for this kind of work, kid." You hear a masculine voice with a skeezy city accent coming from the front of the limo. The privacy window is cracked, just enough so you can hear him, but thankfully not enough so you can see each other. Why was that rolled down at all? It wasn't on the way here. You turn away, refusing to answer, hoping he will leave you be.

"Heh, exactly." You hear him chuckle. You wish you had the guts to just waltz over and roll up the window on him, but you're neither that confident nor strong enough if it ends in a spat. You just let him continue. "Heck, I didn't think robots were even into that stuff, but he seems to be the 'specially fucked-up type." Your stomach sinks like an anchor as you hear what sounds like the draw of a cigarette. "Fucker practically gets off every time he guts someone on live TV. Makes perfect sense he'd get off 'tuh victimizin' some tiny doll like you."

You get the picture, and you feel sick to your stomach for it. You can't respond, every word you want to say gets caught in your throat and you're forced to swallow it. This guy might be unhinged; a lot of people are these days. If you try to argue, he might try something. If you try to play it off... who are you kidding? You could never play this one off. It sounds so bad. Is he going to try to hurt you? Or is this all some mind game?

"Does it hurt? You sure as hell look like you've been through a meat grinder." You feel your face turn red. You turn further away from the cracked window. "Oh, I bet it does. No way 'woulda giant metal psycho like that hold back on a little thing like you."

He won't stop. He's clearly only getting started, but you hope that this is the worst of it.

"Question is: are you a hostage or does he really pay you that well? You know, sweetheart, if you're in need of money, just record whatever the hell he does to 'ya and sell it on the internet." He starts laughing as you internally beg for him to shut up. "All sorts of fucked up dudes would pay for the privilege. You could make absolute bank! Even better if you let him cut you open a bit for the cameras while you scream." He's really laughing now, clearly getting off to how much he has you cornered.

"Everyone loves a good screamin' bitch. Anyone who says they don't is a liar. But you know that, don't 'ya toots?" His use of centuries-old misogynistic slang somehow makes everything worse. You feel yourself shake a bit as you hold yourself tighter. Your stomach hurts badly from the distress now, and you feel yourself spiral internally. Where is this going? Can you outrun this guy if you need to? What if he catches you? Can you squirm out of this guy's grasp? "God, what I wouldn't give to be a fly on the wall while that's going on. I bet your tears only make him harder."

You want to scream, but your prey instincts refuse to let you move or make a sound in hopes that he simply forgets you're there. You can't help yourself but hold your breath in intervals, hoping to be even more silent, but in turn making you more light-headed and fearful.

"I bet there's lots of filthy bastards that would pay extra to have his sloppy seconds." You're absolutely nauseated at the thought of that, but you haven't eaten, so maybe it's just a stomach ulcer forming from the extreme stress. "I bet he's modded to absolutely ruin you, isn't he? Tear your insides up and fill you until you're overflowin', right? You look like he never gives you a day off." You pray, begging God to kill you--this is worse than death.

"So, if he's draggin' 'ya all the way out into the woods to fuck 'ya, it must be pretty messed up stuff, huh?" You lay your face in your hands. "Aww, don't cry babe, I'm not going to tell anyone. I wouldn't want a hole in my chest, anyhow." You want to disappear. You hope he crashes the car and you die in a fire. You hate everything about this. "If you're ever in need of an extra kick of cash though, I wouldn't mind a taste of 'ya. Or buyin' one of those tapes."

You break internally. It feels like the essence of every muscle snaps in your body, and the tears flow without even intending to. You suddenly have the courage to move, but only to move a few inches to cower deeper in the corner of the seats.

It's not worth it. None of this is worth it. You no longer hear anything he says, even though you can still hear his voice. It sounds like you're underwater, so you can't make out the words anymore. Maybe that's a good thing. Unfortunately, you can still make out your own thoughts, and they're all cruel. It's all cruel. Everything about this situation is cruel.

You focus on the tears hitting your hands. They're cold, and they quickly flow out of your palms and down your arms before dripping off your elbows. They leave a trail of salts down your arm so thin you can barely notice it. You don't even feel compelled to make a sound as you cry; it's not that type of sorrow. It's pure humiliation, and your lungs work calmly as your eyes drown instead.

You wish you could just be swallowed by the swell of your own pain. Death is something you think about often as a potential solution to every problem, but right now it feels like a drug you're in active withdrawal from. Like you need it, right here, right now. You want to imagine the limo crashing into an embankment wall, submerging into an ocean, or being hit by a train. You don't care if the creep dies or not, all you know is you want out. The world feels cold enough to sap every degree of heat from you, and you feel as if you're freezing both literally and figuratively.

You fester in the feelings. The only saving grace in this situation is that you're too unimportant to matter to anyone as anything other than an easy squeeze. Nobody will miss you if you die. No one will look for you if you disappear. No family will mourn you. You secretly hope this pervert doesn't know that too, otherwise you might not make it out of this unscathed. You hope he believes Revenant will run him through if he tries to abduct you. You'd rather not die like that, something faster and more violent would be preferred.

Would Revenant kill you? In any circumstance at all? He could make it quick and violent, but he might not want to at this point. He seems to like you more by the day, but now that scares you. Is he human enough to feel strongly about you? Or does he tend to fall back on his programming? Maybe he would like gutting you--then at least someone could enjoy your death. You think about it, but you cannot imagine it without there being some kind of regret thrown in on your or his end. You can only imagine goading him into it by aggressively attacking his emotional stability, which is something you'd regret. Otherwise, you cannot imagine him killing you for no reason and being regret-free afterwards. You don't want him to feel regret. You just want to be free without hurting anyone, but maybe that's unrealistic.

The vehicle comes to a gentle stop. Your brain kicks into survival mode and you immediately rush for the door, not giving the driver any chance to get out of his seat, let alone open the door for you. He is still talking but you don't care; he's only laughing at you anyway. You get the door open and thankfully you're not at some back alley motel, but the main Apex Games facility. It's the back entrance, but you'll take it. It might be a blessing anyway, since it's so close to Revenant's new room that you'll likely avoid all human contact. You get up to the door and fumble in your pocket for your ID card, finally getting it out. You hear the driver say some more heinous things, but you refuse to turn around to see his face. The card is accepted and you rush in.

• • • •

The water is as hot as you can tolerate. It burns your skin and is downright uncomfortable to wash yourself in. Even as you curl up on the shower floor, crying and tolerating the hottest water you can handle, nothing can truly wash off the overwhelming feeling of being violated. Nothing can wash off the depression, the feelings of insignificance, the intrusive suicidal ideations, or the fear of meaning nothing in the grand scheme of things while simultaneously meaning just enough to force you into living.

The floor of the shower is warm, but it's still uncomfortable to lay on. The water spray hitting your skin is the only comfort you feel, but it isn't enough to quell you. The soap slowly rinses off your body, and the lathered up shampoo slowly flows out of your hair and down the drain. You'll eventually rinse completely like this, but it will be a while longer. How long has it already been? You took a long time sitting on the shower floor to even find the energy to get the soap lathered on you, and even that process was slow. Now you've been back on the floor and letting the soap slowly come off as you sob. Revenant might be back by now, but you're not sure what his errand was exactly. Maybe it will take all night. Does it matter? Do you matter? The thoughts won't stop.

You just cry. You cry until it feels like your soul starts to leave your body. Maybe it does. Between the heat, the steam, and the exhaustion, you pass out.

• • • •

"Skinsuit!" You feel yourself being gently jostled, still on the shower floor. The water is off, but the steam is so thick you question how long it's been. Your skin is beginning to get wrinkled from all the water absorption, so it's been a while. You're facing away from him, and you don't have the energy to turn to him. You don't even have the energy to speak. You just play the corpse, hoping that faking it will cause you to make it.

Revenant withdraws, and you hear rapid shuffling behind you. It sounds like he grabs the towel you had hung for yourself, running in and out of the bathroom to grab other things. You care about how he feels--he sounds distressed--but not for yourself. Why does he care at all, though? How does he feel about all this, anyway?

"Come here, little skinsuit. Everything is fine." You feel his arms scoop under you, and your natural instinct is to resist the hard synthetics against your bare skin. You wince a little, but mostly keep your corpse-like state: eyes closed and body limp. He carries you out of the bathroom where the air is freezing, but also not inundated with enough water vapor to nearly asphyxiate you. Weirdly enough, his chest isn't cold, but actually has something like fur? You don't open your eyes, you're probably just imagining it.

He places you down on a towel on the bed, immediately throwing another equally large towel over you. You're still cold, but it's way more tolerable with something over you. You hear Revenant mumbling in some kind of panic to himself, but you still can't find the energy to console him. You hear some typing on his computer, then the chair gets shoved out from under him as he stands in a huff. You hear your duffle bag unzip and likely some of your clothes be tossed on the bed near your head.

"You better not be mad at me for this..." He sounds unsure of that himself before you feel his hands start to dry you off through the towel. It would be nice if it didn't feel so wrong. Even if it is through a towel, you're naked otherwise. The thought of what the driver said hits you, and you immediately begin to feel anxiety and shake against your will. He reacts by scooping you up and hugging you, still wrapped in a towel, trying to stop the shaking.

"Dammit, what's going on?" You hear him whisper, he doesn't seem to realize you're awake and aware.

More fur. Why is there fur? Also, why does it feel like there's something resting on your head? It's way too large to be his chin. His chest feels smaller too, and it feels like some type of plastic rather than metal. The more you feel the more questions you have, and the more you panic at the realization that you do not know this simulacrum. You reach your limit and perk up in his arms, opening your eyes, and silently gasping as you reel back from whoever the heck this is.

"Wait! Skinsuit! It's me!" He manages to hold your arms before you can fully pull away, and you meet eyesight with a chassis you do not recognize. He has a huge, artificial bovine skull with curling ram horns situated on top. Instead of his scarf, his new face is framed in a mane of deep bark-colored fur, matted into locks like a proper wild animal. The optics tucked inside his skull seem so much larger than his normal ones, and they're a brilliant blueish-white, unlike his normal yellow ones. His snout is long enough to have been what was sitting on your head. His body looks to be made much thinner, especially in the chest, and is clearly made with more plastics than metals. It looks significantly lighter. His arms are red with odd, jagged juts on them, but seem to have similar hand mechanics otherwise. His loincloth is replaced with another long patch of fur, as well as fur on his thigh plates. His legs look a lot more decorative, and his feet are scarier: detailed down to each individual talon. His feet actually look much more like the hands on his other chassis.

"Skinsuit?" You snap out of your trance at his voice. You must have been staring him up and down for a while. "Uh, here." He pulls the towels back over you, which had fallen off when you pulled away. He reaches out to touch you, but stops short in case you aren't all there yet. "It's me, I'm just in a special body for tomorrow. I didn't mean to scare you." He's speaking slowly and methodically; his fingers make contact with your hand, but don't go further. "You must have fainted in the shower. You haven't been eating enough, but don't worry, everything's okay now."

Your head starts to throb and you instinctively go to hold it, the stress of the situation is too much. Even though he's trying to be reassuring, he looks like some kind of robotic, big-horned, undead goat demon and honestly you just wanted to see a familiar face to go with the familiar voice. You're not scared now that you know it's him, but something still doesn't feel right about it. Since you don't know this new chassis, you find it hard to trust his comfort. It's weird. Any other time you'd be overjoyed to see him in something that looks so cool, but now you're looking for some semblance of normalcy.

"How do you feel?" His right hand moves again to rest on your knee, intentionally avoiding pushing any boundaries. You can't answer, you still can't speak. It gets caught in your throat despite your best intentions, and instead your words turn into a new burst of tears and sobs. Without thinking, you take his hand off your knee and pull it to your face, sobbing into it. He seems relieved at your acceptance, and tries his best to catch and wipe away the tears as they flow. He shuffles as if to hug you, but he stops, likely unsure of how you feel when you're essentially in nothing but two loosely wrapped towels.

"I'm sorry, I thought seeing my pack would help, but I should have realized you haven't been eating enough. It's not something I've had to pay attention to in centuries." Your heart hurts as he seems to take the blame himself. "I also didn't mean to scare you again... I promise I'm not planning on hurting you." You want to speak so badly, but you just cry harder instead. None of this is his fault. Literally none of it. The only reason you're so jumpy is because everything that pervert said has sent you into a spiral. You imagined Revenant hurting you for his own entertainment and pleasure, and this imaginary smoking gun has left you very gun-shy.

"I ordered food for you to be delivered to the room. I expect you to eat something, even if it's not much. I don't want you dying on me." You push his hand into your face, trying to dry the tears. "I ordered a lot. I'm not sure what you like." You nod to affirm you hear him and plan to try, even though you're too nauseous to be hungry at the moment.

He uses his free hand to grab the clothing he pulled from your bag and puts it in front of you. He probably wasn't thinking too hard when he picked things out, but an oversized tee and men's basketball shorts are as comfy as it gets, so he did fine in your book. He left out undergarments, but honestly you couldn't care less at this point. Whatever covers you is fine. You pull his hand away from your face and place it on the bed gently. You grab the shirt, and he immediately turns away to let you put it on. You're able to throw it on along with the shorts in a few seconds, and quickly retrieve his hand when done. He turns back, maintaining the boundaries he interpreted.

"Any better?" He wipes away a few trailing tears now that you've slowed down a lot. You nod, still not sure how your voice is doing.

There's a knock on the door and Revenant pulls away gently to go get it. You hear a familiar voice from the other side of the door.

"I've got enough Chinese for like, five people. Who is even in this room? Are y'all having a sleepover in the abandoned room? To be fair I'd do the sa--"

Revenant opens the door and Sherry has a long pause to look up at the recipient. She doesn't even notice you, but you see her put the bags on the floor slowly and take a step back, hands up defensively.

"Okay, so it's a demon summoning, my bad..." Her sass is ever present. "And here I made the mistake of thinking I was running into some normal kind of fun."

"Sherry!" Your voice cracks back into action and the perfect moment. She shoots a look past Revenant to see you.

"You're summoning demons now?! Did you dump the tinman and summon an incubus as a bounce back or something?!" She looks up at Revenant, still not sure who it is. "Also, do demons really like Chinese food this much?"

"Sherry, shut up! I need a hug!" The tears are coming back, and Sherry valiantly slips under Revenant's arm to run to you. Revenant seems to be in complete shock at her brazenness, but also unwilling to stop her since you invited her in. He picks up the bag of food instead and brings it in, setting it on the television stand. Sherry leaps into a hug and you accept it graciously. Sherry is the closest thing you have to a sister and you could use someone like her right now. Revenant sits in the computer chair, watching you embrace closely, but not speaking or interfering.

"Where's the Revenant guy? What happened? Did he dump you? Did you run away? Who is this guy?" She immediately starts getting to brass tacks mid-hug. Although with her the hug won't end until you stop crying anyway.

"That is Rev, Sherry. It's just a different body." You manage to get out. She shoots Revenant a discerning look before slowly recognizing the similarities.

"Oh, hey, you're right. My bad, mister murder robot... haha..." She trails off nervously, Revenant only responding with a grunt and a huff. Suddenly, she snaps back into a fiery disposition. "Wait! Did you do something to her, you doofy-lookin' Beelzebub knockoff?! You may be able to gut me, but I'll defend her honor to my grave!" Now you're hugging Sherry to hold her back from trying to start something.

"It was a complete accident. I wasn't keeping track of how much she's been eating and I didn't catch her starving herself; plus I didn't expect this body to scare her as much as it did." Revenant doesn't lose an aggressive posture, but his words are fairly soft and empathetic.

"It's not that! I promise, it's not any of that!" You hug Sherry hard enough that she winces, but sensing your desperation she holds you tighter and pulls your head into her chest with no regard for what that may look like. You're glad you don't have those kinds of feelings for Sherry, otherwise this might be a bit strange. You see Revenant cock his head to the side and his eyes sharpen at the sight.

"It was the ride back, alone. That stupid driver was--" you choke, you hate saying these words out loud, "--a perverted bastard. An absolute dog." It comes out and devolves into a half-sob, thankfully still understandable. You start to cry again, reliving the things he said, not sure how you'd ever be able to say them yourself, even just to explain what happened.

"What happened? Did he hurt you? Are you okay?!" Sherry barely contains her concerns, if at all, squeezing you as you cry.

Revenant stands very slowly and methodically out of the chair, and begins to make some kind of animalistic growl you've never heard him make in your life. He paces back and forth, slowly stifling his growl as he goes. Sherry seems a bit concerned by him, but she continues to try to comfort you, awaiting an answer.

It takes almost a full minute to catch your breath again and be able to speak again, but you do.

"He didn't touch me. He just said things that--" Back to sobbing. You thought too far ahead and started to repeat his words again to yourself.

Despite your crying, Sherry sighs in relief, significantly less tense than before. She starts to rock you in her hug and you go along with it. Revenant's intensity only seems to worsen. He paces faster for a few moments as you cry, before he calms himself down enough to approach the situation.

He sits on the edge of the bed next to you and Sherry, currently latched on to each other. He doesn't attempt to pull you apart, he simply waits patiently. He's completely calm and collected now, with no signs of previous rage apparent, but you're sure it's still there.

"What kind of things did he say?" Sherry asks kindly, no sense of urgency in her voice. She plays with your hair a bit, which might as well be one of the greatest feelings in the world. It might be just distracting enough for you to get it out.

"He said he wanted to buy tapes..." You inhale heavily trying to hold back the inevitable runny nose. "...of Revenant cutting into me and... using me." Sherry gasps through her nose in disgust, but squeezes you tighter in response.

"I'm sorry, that's terri--"

"He said I should sell myself afterwards, that people would like me better if I still had... stuff... inside me." You cut her off but you're not done. Sherry is starting to get tense, but more notably, so is a particular simulacrum only a few feet away. "He said he wanted to watch it all! And try me for himself, too." That's all you needed to say, you're back to sobbing and Sherry starts to cry with you, unable to help her empathy. You're latched on to each other trying to comfort one another, but instead both of you are just a sobbing mess.

Revenant sits, lifeless for a moment, before standing up and limping towards the door.

"Revenant!" You call out to him through tears, and he stops and turns towards you, revealing his eyes are voids. He's in reboot. "Don't kill anyone." You try to sound confident, but you're not sure how it comes out. He turns away again, and limps out of the room, shutting the door behind him. He didn't acknowledge what you said, but you hope he heard you.

Sherry perks up, wiping away her own tears and pulling away for a moment.

"Do you think he'll listen?" Sherry seems stressed.

"I hope so."

• • • •

"So, he's actually an average person, stuck in a body that drives him to be a bloodthirsty assassin via software?" Sherry asks, taking another bite of the sweet and sour chicken.

"As far as I can tell, yeah... Wait, did you not know what a simulacrum was before now?"

"I meant to look it up but I never did. I figured it was like a brand-name or something." She giggles at herself, but you sense there's a chance she may be joking. "So, you actually do really like this spindly metal guy, after all? And he's so much older! You have mature tastes." She goes straight to teasing, now that you're feeling a bit better.

"I didn't say anything about that, ma'am." You stare at the General Tso's chicken in front of you, not sure if you can eat a third piece. You still feel wrong somehow.

"You don't have to. I think he likes you too. I mean, he isn't wearing your innards as a scarf. For him, that's something." She prods.

"He's not as bad as you think, you know." You don't know how to convince her without potentially telling her something Revenant wouldn't want you to.

"Sure, he just kills people on live TV for the paycheck." She shrugs. "Oh! And maybe killing some pervert who sexually harassed you right now."

"I didn't tell him to do that!" You snap, you legitimately don't want to have even a drop of that blood on your hands. Sure, this guy was an absolute creep, but he didn't lay hands on you. That's your limit, and he didn't cross it. He isn't as bad as Forge. That guy did cross the line. He crossed a lot of lines.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you upset." Sherry sounds genuine. You sigh.

"It's okay, I really hope he's just running off some steam. I hope he knows most of my distress was just depression winning." You poke the chicken.

"That's not true, I would have been so scared too. I mean, you were in real danger. It's a miracle you held it together at all, I'm not sure I could have. I still can't believe--"

The door swings open and Revenant walks in, stopping all conversation in its tracks. He's hunched forward, looking somewhat disappointed.

"I hope you're happy. He'll live." He looks you dead in the eyes, waiting for your reaction.

You smile openly, glad he heeded your request.

"Everyone in his contacts now has a copy of the encrypted files on his computer, all decrypted for their viewing pleasure." He breaks eye contact with you. "At least one of them is sure to call the feds when they see their inbox tomorrow."

"Oh geeze, he was that kind of creep?" Sherry exclaims out loud, still eating chicken.

"Oh yeah, he's been collecting a lot of really rare porn. Honestly, I wish you'd have just let me kill him so I didn't have to expose myself to that." You feel a little guilty that he had to dig through it, it explains why he looks so dejected.

"I'm sorry..." You can't help yourself, you feel bad when he seems upset about anything.

"How much have you eaten?" He seems to have noticed how full your box of chicken still is.

"Two pieces of chicken, and maybe one piece of broccoli." Sherry rats you out with a cruel grin on her face.

"Snitch!" You shoot back at her. She closes her box with a mischievous smirk, hops up, and starts to leave.

"Nice to meet 'ya, you synthetic Wendigo! Have fun and be safe, you two!" She slips past Revenant quickly and is out of the door, skipping down the hallway as the door slowly shuts behind her. Revenant watches her leave with some mix of confusion and concern. You turn to reassure him.

"She's fine. She won't say anything. She--"

"Clearly is some kind of competition for me. I mean, she held you like you two were bonded for life." He's immediately free to tease you with her gone. Thank goodness Revenant seems too shy to gang up on you with her; that would be untenable. He throws himself down next to you where Sherry once was. "I want that same kind of bond." He barely touches your chin with his claws, being sure to growl the last bit out loud.

You emit a whining noise, paralyzed by the thought. You're a bit more sensitive to it all at the moment, considering the events of the day. Revenant notices your struggle and pulls back, reverting to his demanding style.

"Eat your food. I didn't intend for your girlfriend to run off with a free meal and you not eat anything." It still feels weird coming from his new body, but you're getting used to it.

"She's just a good friend, that's all. And I was just too busy talking to eat, I still don't feel great though." You poke at the food, it's lukewarm by now but that isn't your main objection to it. You just don't feel like eating.

"Oh, so we aren't close enough yet for that kind of affection? I'll fix that soon enough." His voice hums. You sigh.

"Oh please," You pet his snout and he seems to enjoy it, getting him off your case for a bit, "Not right now, harass me later. If you want me to eat anything, you can't be doing this." He really seems to enjoy the snout rubs.

"Alright, fine, you eat, I'll talk." You pull your hand away and focus more on the food. "I have quite a number of these special chassis to myself, all kinds of designs and colors and other nonsense. These are my special occasion outfits, per sé." You nod, it makes sense. "This one, as well as many others, are modded to the brim with all sorts of fun additions." He touches his snout, noting where you pet it. "I can feel every single aspect of this suit, even those that don't conform to the human shape. Even better, it's neural processors are exponentially faster, meaning everything feels much more vivid and vibrant." He pulls his fingers to the nasal cavity. "I have an entire set of cores that do nothing but olfactory processing, so I get to be the better Bloodhound while I wear it." His fingers fall to his jaw. "This luxurious suit even gets a jaw with clamping power, canine teeth to snag whatever I want, and a synthetic tongue to taste the blood I spill." He starts to snarl his words as he pulls open his jaw to show you his mouth. He points to his horns next. "These things? Silicone carbide sections with rubber impulse reducers between." You stare at him with a look of minor confusion, so he clarifies. "I can headbutt a skull into fragments without even leaving a dent in my own." You wince at the thought. "Not to even mention the use of polyethylenes instead of metals in the body with support weights in the limbs makes it so I can move faster than ever but still hit just as hard. Not to even mention all the modifications below the neck. You'll see how much I destroy in tomorrow's match. I will win, I promise you that."

"Wanna bet?" You're happy with how confident he is, but you can't help but want to start something.

"And what do I have that you could possibly want?" Revenant asks the opposite of what you expect him to. Isn't the question usually posed the opposite way? You close up your leftovers and start going over to the kitchenette to put it in the fridge.

"Well, I wouldn't mind money or just hanging out with the prowlers again. I could put money on it too, just not enough to make it worth your while. Did you have something in mind?" The fridge is nearly empty, spare for that water bottle and liquor. You throw the box down on a shelf, close the door, and plop down on the couch in a lying position.

"So, if I don't win, I have to take you to see my puppies again, or give you money. Neither of those are objectionable to me, but when I win I get to take something instead?"

"Yeah, that's how I'm framing it. The extra motivation can't hurt. I just don't know what you'd want. I have some savings, but--"

"Forget the money, I don't exactly have much need for it and I have tons anyway. What I want..." He pauses for a moment as his voice turns sinister. "...is to hear you call me 'daddy' again while I take a piece of you." He seethes with a sadistically erotic tone.

You stare into space, your face must be red again.

"C'mon skinsuit, it's not every day I'm in one of my few suits with the proper equipment for it." He's loving the look on your face, undoubtedly. He's acting like this is a cruel joke, but... How far would he take this joke, though? Better yet, how far will you force him to take it? You still feel ill at ease about the idea, but you're suddenly angry enough to buck off the shame.

"Alright, fuck you but sure." Probably the ballsiest thing you've ever said in your life.

Revenant is caught off guard for a moment, his eyes dimming until they're nearly off, freezing in a somewhat shocked motion. After a few moments, you hear him slowly return as he laughs out loud. He has trouble containing himself, and goes to rub his mask again.

"You're insane, but I love that." He finally contains his laughter. "Your friend, what's her name?"

"Sherry." Weird change in subject but okay.

"Who's her favorite?"

"Wattson."

"Oh, perfect. I'll send a special request for her to keep you company during the match. I want you both to watch. I got my assigned team not long ago." He stands up from the edge of the bed and meanders over to the couch you're on, looming over you.

"Oh, are you with Wattson?"

"And Wraith. It's perfect for what I have planned." He never did explain what his plan was that day he dragged you all over the arena. "Loba's little triumph will pale in comparison to my massacre."

"Try not to make it too--"

"It will be bloody, gory, and brutal. Sorry little skinsuit, but you used up your pardon." He chides you from above before reaching down to help you up. "Now come, I need to warm something."

You stand up, a bit confused by his request, until he pulls you into a hug and you feel how strangely warm his body is. You're a bit taken aback at first, but you slowly ease into him and the warmth he offers.

"Luxurious, isn't it?" You feel his chest rattle into a purring sound as he cradles your head against his warm chest. "I like it too." He gently pulls you away from the couch before leading you to the bed.

You don't protest, you just crawl into bed and shuffle to the middle, making plenty of room for him to follow. You see the lights flick off, then feel his warmth press up against your back, cradling you completely. His snout rests on your shoulder, breathing into your ear. It's comforting, something you really needed after today.

"Thanks, Rev." You barely manage to whisper. He huffs in your ear as affirmation before you fall asleep.

[missbaphomet]

Message 1: I have a mutual sending me this but I also straight up don't care about block evasion tbh. My standard is keep your arms and legs inside the short bus. What's creepy is you're in you're a decade older than me and threatening to fuck my mom (ew), obsessed with my sex life (double ew), and trying to dictate what can and can't do on my own blog and who I can and can't talk to. As far as silent calling goes why the fuck would I care if he uses only fans. I literally post my own cheesecake shots on this blog and I have a fetlife with even more content. I'm considering starting an OF too. We love sex workers here. Either way, he's not creeping me out. Tbh you aren't even creeping me out bc you literally don't have object permance to me. You only exist when I see your dumbassery. Which is unfortunately a lot lately. And besides I am literally the cutest thing on the planet so rules don't apply to me <3 (That's a joke, since I have to spell it out for you.

Message 2: it's a this "letter of release" is, best I can find with a google search, release of legal liability, meaning either the charges were dropped or you were considered incompetent to stand trial. My money's on the latter tbh. That doesn't mean you're not a felon.

Message 3: 'ironic' and 'hypocrite' are individual words. Still not clear on how either apply to me but they seem to be part of your favorite vocabulary. So here's some vocab homework for you: define 'illiterate' and 'ignoramus'.

Message 4: you really don't make an impression as stated above. If you weren't constantly sucking my dick I'd have forgotten about you tbh. Amd yet here you are... I'm glad you like sucking my dick oh so much but I got shit to do. Regardless, if I was arrested for shoplifting, I would have deserved it and I would have taken it with the grace and poise you clearly lack. Remember: I'm the one who confessed to doing it and made no defense beyond I was a CHILD (which is a valid legal defense) with undiagnosed mental health issues that were causing attention seeking behavior, in this case by risk seeking. I was 10 years old. Find me a jury that would have given me more than a fine. Being a 10 year old is definitely a better defense than 'I was """defending my life""" by trespassing on a neighbors property while threatening them with a sledgehammer'.

Message 5: as I said I don't really care all that much about block evading as long as you don't get involved again. I wasn't blocked by you, as evidenced by your presence in my DMs. Also, am I 'posting for attention' or am I 'getting no notes'? It can't be both. You're the laughingstock of my blog and you keep chucking logs onto the dumpster fire. Of fucking course I'm gonna post it, it's funny.

Message 6: as said you don't exist outside of my peripheral vision. You just keep jumping right into my line of sight.

Message 7: idk how I'll look stupid but even if I do I'll never look dumber than your ass on my blog for 2 days straight over a shitpost.

Messages what-fucking-ever I don't care: I wasn't in your dms. You literally started the chat.

Yeah, I am lazy. What of it. Also I deadass forgot you existed much less did I know your main until you came into my dms.

Correct grammar would be *an* ironic hypocrite. You'd know that if you passed the 5th grade.

Again calling me a femcel... and meanwhile you are here just absolutely sucking my dick like your life depends on it! Why are you so obsessed with my sex life? It's hardly *my* fault you haven't had pussy since pussy had you. Like, bro, why are you thinking about sex with a 'mentally unwell young woman' like me? 🥺

I've never been on your page and I also don't wanna be there. Kindly fuck off <3

Oh, and in regards to that last message please read this aloud to the class:

Bro comes to MY dms to brag about how I'M mad. Lol. Lmao even. Anyway block this asshole.

[rosesgonerogue]

Finding Each Other (Again)

Chapter One

Masterlist

“Make way guys, out of the way!” Dick bellowed from the entrance of the batcave. “Alfred, we need you!” 

Marinette, jostled in his arms with every step, tried to liberate herself from her brother-in-law’s iron grip. “Calm down, I’m fine.” 

“No offense bug, but I just watched you get crushed by a steel beam. Alfred is checking you over.” 

“Tikki, spots,” Marinette said, as he deposited her on a cot. “See, not a bruise on me. I only jumped in to save that kid because I knew I would be fine. I’ve been eaten by a t-rex before, I was perfectly safe.” 

“You what?” Damian demanded darkly. 

“Dames! How was your patrol?” Marinette asked, grinning at the sight of her husband. 

“What just happened to you on patrol?” Damian demanded. 

“Dick is overreacting. I know it can be kind of… unsettling to see things like that, but the Miraculous suits are nearly indestructible. Only another Miraculous or some type of magic could hurt me while I’m suited up.” 

She leaned in to kiss Damian’s cheek, but his face was stone. 

“Are any of those Miraculous things up for grabs?” Jason asked, pulling off his helmet.

“Not for you,” Marinette scoffed. “And don’t worry, Dames. Dick is overreacting, the beam barely made contact with me. I was just making sure it fell safely.’ 

“Hold up, hold up,” Tim said, actually turning away from the computer. “You redirected a steel beam? Just with your strength alone? How strong does your suit make you?” 

“I haven’t actually ever tested it, that could be interesting,” Marinette contemplated, handing Tikki a cookie. “But I’m stronger than I was when I first started out as Ladybug.” 

“Part of it is because you’ve worked with me for so long - we’ve grown together. But you’re stronger than any other Miraculous use can be because you’re also the Guardian,” Tikki said. “Alfred, these cookies are amazing.” 

While Alfred began examining Marinette, he chattered with Tikki about his baking methods. Dick was telling an overly dramatized version of the night’s events while Tim theorized exactly what Marinette could be capable of. All that was missing was the last few members of the family, all occupied with their own business. Marinette leaned back on the examination table, content with the daily she’d married into. 

“-and if she were facing a metahuman with enhanced strength-”

“Drake, will you do us all a favor and shut your idiotic mouth?” Damian snapped, his voice dripping with acid. 

“That was out of line,” Marinette said, straightening up. “He’s just having fun, Damian.” 

“Just having fun? Were you just having fun when you threw yourself under a steel beam today? Or how about last week, when Killer Croc almost ripped off your leg?” Damian spat. “Oh, and the week before when your heart literally stopped because you stepped in front of Mr. Freeze?”

“Whoa, whoa, hang on,” Marinette said, standing to really face her husband. “That’s uncalled for, Dames. What’s with all of the hostility?”

“What’s with all of the hostility? Every week I have to see or hear about some way my wife almost died. You have absolutely no sense of self-preservation and that makes the rest of us worry about you, which makes you a liability.” 

“Excuse me?” she demanded, uncaring of the awkward silence between the rest of the family. “A liability? I know exactly what I am capable of, Damian Wayne. In case you forgot, I had a life and a hero career before you. Long before you.” 

“But this isn’t magical butterflies, Marinette, this is the real world!” Damian shouted, ripping off his domino mask. “People die here, and we don’t all have a Miraculous to save our asses. You rely on Tikki, but how do you know she won’t fail, or time out too early? Without her you’d be dead.” 

Marinette’s eyes were wide and burning with rage, but Tikki was the first to speak, her tiny body radiating with fury. 

“You have no idea what Marinette has gone through to get here. She is the most capable Ladybug and Guardian that I’ve ever seen, and that means more than you’ll ever know.” 

Looking back at his wife, Damian could see more hurt than anger in her eyes. He felt a pang now that his panic from hearing Dick’s story had died down, but it was too late. When he should have expressed concern and care for his wife, he’d let anger take over. A firm stubbornness rose in him, and when his wife’s eyes met his, he levelled his gaze at her, unwilling to take his words back. 

Glaring at him, when she spoke Marinette’s voice was thick with unshed tears. “Well, I formally apologize for the liability I’ve been all this time. If you’ll excuse me, I have commissions to work on.”

She shoved past him, leaving the silent Wayne clan behind. Her back was straight and her stride was measured - none of them could have guessed that silent, angry tears ran down her cheeks. Outside the weather was terrible, the wind howling through Gotham’s streets. 

Walking silently for blocks, Tikki flitted around her nervously, using the terrible weather as a cover - not that there was anyone really on the streets to notice her. Finally the two ducked into an alley where Marinette collapsed against a brick wall. 

“He’s wrong, Marinette,” she finally said indignantly. “Damian’s worried for you, but he also has no idea what it takes to hold a Miraculous.” 

“Am I just a liability, Tikki?” Marinette asked, running a hand through her hair. “Am I just making things worse for the entire family?” 

“Marinette, no! You’ve saved them plenty of times, and don’t you dare wonder if I’m what makes you special. We’ve been together for so long because you’re special,” Tikki said firmly. 

The Guardian sniffed, sagging a little. “Thanks, Tikki. I guess I really should go work on those commissions like I said I would, which means I need to go home.” 

“Only after you’ve eaten the rest of Damian’s favorite ice cream,” the kwami said. 

“After all of the morality speeches you gave me in Paris, I had no idea you had this mischievous streak in you. I think Plagg is finally rubbing off on you after all of these centuries.” 

Tikki smiled. “Only when someone hurts my Ladybug.”

Smiling faintly herself, Marinette pushed herself up while Tikki situated herself in Marinette’s purse. Talking to Damian wouldn’t be fun, but they would figure things out - they always did. Besides, they only fought because her husband was worried for her wellbeing. So, Marinette made her way towards their home, one of the safest neighborhoods in all of Gotham. She could almost see the old Colonial-style house when they saw a woman standing on the sidewalk. 

She was just standing there under the streetlamp, the light emphasizing how angular her features were, if not exaggerating them. With the way the woman stared at Marinette, it was clear that she would speak to them, and there was really no way to get home without crossing the woman’s path. As much as she didn’t want to, Marinette decided to bite the bullet and speak first. “Excuse me, Madame, can I help you?”

Nothing in her posture changed, but glittering eyes assessed Marinette critically. “So you’re the little French fashion designer? I can’t say I’m impressed. I always had much… higher aims for my son.”

With those words Marinette felt her blood freeze in her veins. So this was Talia al Ghul. She’d heard stories of the woman, but she always hoped not to become involved with her at all. 

She couldn’t back down. Marinette met her mother-in-law’s eyes without flinching, hand snaking to her back pocket for her phone. 

“Don’t try it, little girl. You and I are going to play a game. It’s called ‘how much does Damian love you?’”

“It’s tempting, but I think I need to pass,” Marinette said. 

At that, Marinette viciously kicked forward, hitting Talia right in the knee. She didn’t try to watch the result, sprinting forward with all of her energy - she only had to make it to-

There was a sharp prick in the back of her neck, and Marinette felt her legs give out from underneath her. She heard Talia limping over. 

“Maybe you’re not completely hopeless, but you were never going to win this. Now let me explain the rules of the game to you.” 

Marinette wanted to protest, to scream until someone came, but she couldn’t even prop herself up on her arms. Even more alarmingly, black was slowly overtaking her vision. 

“Dear little Damian has a month to find you. If he doesn’t, I get to kill you and use it as a means to get the information I need. Now sleep well, darling. You’ll need it.” 

Taglist: 

@tbehartoo @kris-pines04 @thesunanditsangel @constancetruggle @thequeenofpotatoeunicornss @rosalineandrosemary @novicevoice @momothefemur  @theymakeupfairies

Note: Hey guys, I know it’s been FOREVER since I posted anything. I just finished my first semester of grad school, and it was a bit overwhelming to say the least. Oh, I also have a boyfriend now. That’s new, and he does tend to take up some time. But I’m not abandoning my other stories, I just wanted to try something a little different. Long term this is going to be cute, and it’s going to have some hurt/comfort vibes. I know this is really different from what I usually write, so tell me what y’all think. The taglist is open if anyone wants to be added, just leave a comment below and ask to be tagged! 

[nancydfan]

I think that Mia gets too bad of a rap from a lot of people.

Like yes, was she an agent of a super shady organization responsible for making a bio weapon that destroyed a great deal of lives? Yes. However we don’t know her motivation for joining them yet.

They could have lied honestly. Like The Connections could have advertised themselves to be a great, loving work environment and maybe Mia was young and naive and joined them. Or maybe she was desperate for money, and it was the only job that would hire her. Or hell, maybe she fully knew what they were and joined anyway, either on account of her morals being twisted back then or thinking that even though the company was evil maybe she could do good. Who knows, honestly.

Either way, with The Connections being a shady organization there’s like a very high chance that you don’t get to walk away from them alive. I’m sure if you quit they’d see you as a liability and take you out with no mercy. And that’s why I think Mia didn’t leave, because she knew she would be killed if she did, and maybe that’s why she took the job with Eveline, because it was more of a “you will do this or else” than an option for her (whether it was implied by her boss or if they were upfront about what bad things would happen if she didn’t take the job).

And maybe if her morals were twisted before I fully think meeting and falling in love with Ethan changed her if that was the case, because the Mia we see in RE7 and RE8 is a good person. We see that in how when the Baker’s rescue her she thanks them but tries to leave immediately and tries to warn them about staying away from Eveline (as shown in the note she left in the dlc “Daughters”). She could have tried to get them to call the hospital or her company but she didn’t, because she knew that she was under Eveline’s control and the longer she stayed there the more danger the family was. If she was a shitty person she wouldn’t have done this, she would have done everything she could to save herself.

We also see that in how she leaves a final video note for Ethan, telling him to stay away no matter what, because she didn’t want him to get dragged down in her mess. She knows how much Ethan loves her and I’m sure she knows if she sent a video saying “Ethan pls help” he’d come running for her, but she didn’t because she loves him and wants him to live even if she can’t be there with him. We see it AGAIN when she saves Ethan from Eveline’s grasp, when she tears him from the mold thing he was in and pushes him out so Eveline couldn’t hurt him. Fully knowing she’d have to face Eveline’s wrath.

And for everyone saying “why didn’t she just tell him then” I mean think about it. I think if this super shady organization found out someone they didn’t hire knew what was going on they’d kill them because again they’d be a liability and a threat. And that’s why she doesn’t tell Ethan because she doesn’t want him to be targeted and killed by them. I think if she had the opportunity she would have left The Connections but knows that it would result in her death anyway, and telling Ethan the truth would just end in his death if they found out and it was too risky in her mind.

And I think it’s this same form of protection that prevents her from telling Ethan he’s infected. She says (or at least we can assume that this was her) in Donna’s section that she didn’t tell him because she was afraid she’d lose him. I don’t think he’d divorce her if he found out he was molded (that doesn’t really make sense for his character), I think she was genuinely afraid he’d die (again) or worse begin to transform into a monster the way the rest of the infected did. And that’s why she keeps it hidden because she was scared to death he’d die or suffer a worse fate. Am I saying she was right in hiding it? No, but I think that everyone saying she’s manipulative and gaslighting are wrong because she truly loves Ethan and Rose, and I know she’d give her life gladly if it meant they could live.

I saw other people get mad because Rose is essentially being used as a bio weapon and how could Mia let this happen and I’m like?? She probably doesn’t have a say?? I mean yes Blue Umbrella is supposed to be “the good guys” now but like they’re still a huge organization, I’m sure Mia did her best to prevent this from happening and keep Rose safe but like at the end of the day what can she really do against a huge company?? If anything get mad at Chris because I’m sure he’s got some clout or something in that company that could have allowed Rose to live a normal life without Umbrella or maybe not being used as a weapon but idk 🤷🏻‍♀️ a lot of people were like “Mia’s sO annoying at the beginning of the game” but fam that wasn’t even her?? That’s Miranda?? Besides even if it was Mia that blew up on Ethan in the hospital (as per Ethan’s diary) 1.) people deal with trauma differently, and I’m not saying it’s healthy but she’s scarred and doing her best and 2.) probably was afraid if they talked too much about Louisiana Ethan would realize he was infected and then BAM he’s either dead or a mutated monster. And in the cutscene of Mia saying “you matter!” Can you imagine the stress of knowing your husband is Mr Mold Man and not being able to do anything about it, out of fear of what could happen to him? Like of course she’s upset and going to blow when provoked (not that Ethan was aggressive or anything just that he was prying into a very high pressure soda that is Mia’s emotions lol) because she’s been bottling this up and has no one to talk to, and after a while anyone would explode. I think she would have told him if he hadn’t answered that call. Also marriage is not rainbows and butterflies, sometimes you get into messy fights with your partner and sometimes you or the other person say things you don’t mean but at the end of the day you love each other and try to be better. If anything Capcom was depicting a normal marriage tbh.

At the end of the day Mia is not the bad guy. She is only human who tried her best to keep her family safe against all the odds and idc what anyone says, Ethan and Mia love each other and have a healthy relationship and that’s that.

I hope I do this ask justice cause this is the kinda ask I’ve been like hoping for cause you are absolutely gosh damn right.

I’m a chill person & I’m never gonna probably get up into someone’s face about anything cause it’s fandom. I’m not here to cater your experience. That being said, when I see some of these frankly bad takes on Mia I’m like

We know Jack shit about why Mia joined the Connections. Literally nothing so people who have a whole solidified nasty opinion of Mia should probably just sit down. You don’t have to like her. But you also could like, idk, be absolutely dead wrong cause lol Capcom went, yeah we’re not gonna explain any of that.

I got the impression that in between re7 and re8 that they are hiding from the connections too but I may have misunderstood that In re8. I think it makes sense it’s the type of organization you do not leave. No matter how badly you want to and once Ethan came along, do people really think she’d risk him? Spoiler alert: no, no she wouldn’t.

Also, re7 started w Alan. He’s the one that let eveline get out of control so...I feel like people forget that.

I’ve been talking to a friend about people using the Miranda Mia against the real Mia and I don’t know how to kindly tell people that the game kinda absolutely explained that’s not Mia? I do think Mias got a temper which makes sense because Ethan is so even tempered that he can balance her out better. But Miranda Mia was a fuckin bitch. She was needling Ethan’s pain and mocking him. Do people think Ethan sat around for three years taking that? Ethan’s a big boy. He can take care of himself. He was even fighting back w Miranda Mia so manipulative and abusive takes belong in the toilet w the rest of the shit.

Mia blowing up at Ethan means nothing. My parents have proven to me marriage is not easy. You will lose it on people when emotions run high. It happens. There’s a world of difference between a moment of anger versus abuse. But you still love and forgive people for moments of anger because we all have them. And I’m sure Ethan can be just as much as a pain in the ass. I love him more than most and I’d be the first person to admit I’m sure he didn’t make it easy all the time either.

Mia held the truth from Ethan because she was scared not just for her but for him too. It’s a selfless kind of lie. We all do them so I don’t know why Mia is getting burned at the stake for it. I’m just not movable on this. That was a heavy thing to carry and she was doing her best.

As for Rose, I don’t even know what Capcom is doing. How can anyone else know? She’s special and powerful. Maybe she wanted that life? I think we can reserve judgement until re9.

Like I said above, no one has to like Mia. Maybe you don’t vibe w her or maybe you still just don’t care for her. That’s cool. But my gosh don’t lie about the kind of person she is. If you can’t acknowledge her world and heart belongs to Ethan and Rose, I’m just not sure what to tell you.

Sorry for ranting on your ask nonnie 😆 I really appreciate that you sent this in! It needed said imo