#Cosmetic shop Abuse

[queenshelby]

The Accident (Part Two)

Pairing: Reader & Cillian Murphy

Warning: Accident, Child Birth, Abuse, Religious Themes

Thank you @blondie-22 for this amazing idea!

Cillian pushed open the front door of his large townhouse, the familiar creak announcing his arrival. The comforting scent of freshly brewed coffee lingered in the air, mingling with the soft rustle of pages turning as he stepped towards the living room. 

When he walked inside, his daughter Nina glanced up from her phone, eyebrows raised in curiosity. “What took you so long at the shops?” she asked, seeing how her father was meant to have been gone for less than an hour.

Cillian ran a hand through his graying hair, his mind still lingering on the frantic chaos of the past hour. “I just...I suppose, I got caught up in stuff," he stammered as he sank into the armchair across from her. The flicker of concern in his daughter’s eyes was evident.

“What kind of stuff?” Nina pressed, her fingers hovering above the screen, moment arily forgotten.

Cillian hesitated, feeling the weight of the encounter with you just moments earlier hanging over him. “I helped deliver a baby.”

Nina’s eyes lit up. "You what?" she gasped, leaning forward. “For real?" “Yeah, in an alley out of all places. It was pretty intense,” Cillian said, a smile breaking through the tension on his face.

Nina laughed, her hazel eyes sparkling with excitement. “Holy shit, dad. That's pretty cool," Nina said just before Cillian's fiancee Naomi chimmed in from the kitchen, her voice dripping with disdain. “You helped deliver a baby? Really? Couldn’t you have just called an ambulance?" she asked, seeing how she had hoped to spend some time with him to prepare for their wedding in four months.

Cillian’s smile faltered as he leaned back, trying to contain the frustration brewing inside him. “I did call an ambulance, Naomi. The woman needed help, though. I couldn’t just leave her.”

Naomi folded her arms, her perfectly manicured nails glinting under the living room lights. “You’re a famous actor, not a paramedic. You shouldn't have gotten involved," she snapped, her green eyes narrowed in disapproval.

Cillian straightened his posture, pushing back against her frustration. “She was scared, alone, and about to give birth. Just think— if it were you in that situation. Wouldn’t you want someone there to help?”

Naomi rolled her eyes, the dramatic gesture almost rehearsed. “I wouldn't have been in that situation, Cillian. I am not ruining my body by having children and you know that. We had this discussion," Cillian's fiancee explained, reminding him that having children with him in the future was not on the card for her. She was 36 and quite influential on social media, running campaigns for cosmetics and high fashion items, modeling them herself, not raising babies.

Cillian rubbed the bridge of his nose, his irritation bubbling beneath the surface. “That’s not the point, Naomi. It’s about empathy. It’s about being human.”

Nina, sensing the growing tension, interjected. “Can we not argue about this now? Dad just did something incredible. He helped deliver me over sixteen years ago when mom went into labour and now he helped with another baby. It's so fucking cool," Nina exclaimed, her voice rising with enthusiasm. “Just let him have this moment without adding all your drama on top.”

Naomi shot her a stern look before looking at Cillian and rolling her eyes. "Whatever," she said, dismissing Nina’s enthusiasm. “Can we get in touch with the wedding planner now that you are home?" she wanted to know, but Cillian simply sighed.

"I was actually thinking about visitting Y/N in the hospital, to see how she is," Cillian said as he stood up again, determination flickering in his blue eyes.

Naomi’s expression hardened. “Y/N? The woman who you don't know but whose child you helped deliver? This is ridiculous, Cillian, really. You can’t just go off visiting strangers. You are a fucking movie star now,” Naomi’s voice dripped with scorn.

"I am an actor, not a movie star," Cillian responded, hating that term. "Despite, I promised Y/N I would check in on her. She deserves that."

Naomi scoffed, her fingers tapping impatiently on the counter. “And I deserve a perfect wedding, one that you're helping plan. You agreed to be there, Cillian!"

"I am sure Nina will help you pick out some nice flowers, and decorations," Cillian replied, his voice steady and a little sarcastic, causing his daughter Nina to roll her eyes and sigh.

"Sure," she chuckled. "If I must," Nina said, cutting a glance at Naomi. "And for what it's worth, I think it’s cool that you want to check on the woman you helped earlier, Dad. It's just the decent thing to do.”

Cillian nodded, grateful for the support. Nina was as empathetic was he was, understanding the complexities of kindness in an indifferent world.

“Thanks, Nina. I appreciate it,” he said before gathering a few things in order to make his way to the hospital.

Naomi folded her arms, disbelief etched on her face as she watched Cillian slip on his jacket. “You’re really leaving, aren't you? Just like that?”

Cillian turned around, catching the flash of frustration in her piercing gaze. “Yes, I am,” he told her bluntly before walking out of the door.

****

An hour later, Cillian stepped inside the hospital, the antiseptic odour stinging his nostrils. Fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting a stark pallor across the floor of the maternity ward and his heart raced a little, for reasons unknown to him, with a pulse of urgency propelling him to the reception desk.

“Excuse me,” he said, the urgency in his voice clear. “I’m looking for a woman named Y/N. I don’t know her surname but gave birth just a little while ago and I helped deliver her baby before she was taken here,” Cillian explained and the receptionist glanced up, her expression shifting from indifference to mild confusion as she looked through the admissions sheet silently for what felt like an eternity.

“I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t have any record of someone by that name. I just started my shift but no one named Y/N has been admitted into the ward in the past 24 hours,” the receptionist replied, tapping her fingers against the keyboard.

Cillian furrowed his brow, frustration creeping into his voice. “She came in only an hour ago. A woman and her newborn; I helped her through an emergency. It can’t be possible that she never made it here.”

The receptionist’s fingers paused mid-type. “Are you sure that she was taken to this hospital?" the elderly but friendly woman asked, studying him with a hint of sympathy in her eyes.

“Yes," Cillian pressed. "I would have remembered because, uhm," he stammered slightly. "My wife died here four years ago," he admitted, memories coming back to him.

The receptionist softened at his admission. “I’m very sorry to hear that,” she murmured, her gaze shifting to her computer screen. “Let me check with the maternity unit nurse.” She pressed a button on the phone and waited, the silence stretching uncomfortably between them until the line connected.

“Hi, Ellen? Can you confirm if we had a patient arrive with a newborn about an hour ago? Her name was Y/N.” She listened intently, her brow furrowing deeper.

Cillian shifted nervously, casting glances at the white walls lined with floral pictures, his thoughts racing.

The receptionist nodded slightly. “Okay, thank you.” She hung up and faced him, the weariness etched in her features.

“One of the nurses in charge of arrivals just told me there’s no record of a woman by that name today. However, she did mention that a woman arrived with a newborn and no ID. She refused to provide her name and she refused treatment. They said she left the hospital shortly after arriving, despite being advised to stay.”

“Wait,” Cillian interrupted, his heart sinking. “ Cillian’s heart sank. “What do you mean she left? Who picked her up?”

“A man in his late twenties apparently,” the receptionist shrugged. “I can’t give you more details; hospital policy, you know?” Her eyes expressed genuine concern as she searched his face for understanding.

Cillian rubbed his temple, irritation lacing his thoughts. “Thanks for your help. I appreciate it,” he mumbled, shaking his head as he turned away from the desk. The sterile clamour of the hospital faded into a dull roar behind him. One question nagged at him as he walked towards the exit: Why had you left?

***

Outside, the crisp air hit him like a wave, grounding him for a brief moment. He pulled his phone from his pocket, scrolling through the contacts quickly, his thumb hovering over his daughter's name, dialing her quickly.

“Dad? Are you okay? You just left” Nina asked, the rhythm of her voice quickening.

“I’m fine,” he replied, trying to keep his tone steady. “Listen, I need you to do something for me.”

She paused, her curiosity piqued. “What is it? You sound weird."

“There is a little note on the kitchen counter. It has the car registration number of the woman. I helped today. I wrote it down for the insurance claim and I need you to send it to me please,"

“Okay, hang on,” Nina replied, her voice almost drowned out by the background noise of whatever game she had been playing. Cillian could hear the scuffle of her chair and the patter of her feet against the wooden floor as she rushed to the kitchen. A moment later, she spoke again.

“I found it! I will text it to you,” Nina said.

“Great. Thanks, sweetheart,” Cillian replied, relief washing over him. He had a direction now, something solid to grasp and he knew that, with some help, he could track you down, wanting to make sure that you and Mika were safe.

Tags:

@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

@nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @forgottenpeakywriter @smailaway @sophiaaguirred @blondie-22

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

The Arcana HCs: Brainrot's Masterlist, Pt 2

Because, apparently, there is a 100 link limit XD. In order from oldest to most recent, updated every time I post! ^.^

What the M6 need to hear

How the M6 found some cool art

When M6 break into your shop (feat. Faust)

When M6 find MC badly injured

When MC is taller than Muriel

M6 talking to their past selves

When MC makes cosmetics for the M6

When MC's memory loss changes them

M6 with a cute but intimidating MC

M6 as friends

M6 with a hothead MC

When MC has to reject someone painfully

M6 with kids

Play fighting with M6

When MC age regresses

M6 during MC’s pregnancy

How M6 act when they’re sleep deprived

Mazelinka comforting MC

When M6 get pregnant

M6 in OHSHC

When MC hides their natural hair color

M6 comforting MC after a bad breakup

MC with Red Plague symptoms

M6 when MC has SH scars

When M6 body swap with MC

M6 when MC has a nightmare of them dying

M6 with an asexual MC

Lucio's Birthday

Vesuvia Weekly: The Marketplace Incident (oneshot)

M6's ringtones

When M6 think MC is dead

Vesuvia Weekly: Fashion Intervention (oneshot)

When MC writes their love story

Vesuvia Weekly: Brainrot's Baking Lesson

M6 and Kisses

M6 with an MC who has ADHD

Portia's Birthday

M6 with an MC who's been through SA

Muriel's Birthday

MC and their familiar bodyswap

Vesuvia Weekly: What it's like to hold the M6

When MC argues with M6 and gets stuck in a storm

When MC can regenerate their limbs

When M6 accidentally trigger MC

Vesuvia Weekly: Secret Skills

M6 in the Future

M6 when MC is recovering from abuse

Celebrating Holi

M6 with a winged MC

MC gets falsely arrested

Lazy days with M6

Vesuvia Weekly: Things the M6 don't do anymore

M6 when MC eats monsters

Post-Route M6 get 10 minutes with Pre-Memory Loss MC

M6 at the airport

Vesuvia Weekly: M6 saying "Your Other Left!"

MC gets temporary amnesia

M6 get temporary amnesia

M6 get kidnapped and tortured

MC with chronic pain

When MC falls into a coma

When MC suffers from cognitive loss

M6 with an ex-Coliseum fighter MC

M6 with wings

When M6 are forced to attack MC

When MC is forced to attack M6

Reflecting M6's love languages

When MC struggles with jealousy

When MC turns into a small, wounded animal

When M6 become folk heroes

When MC has Tourette's Syndrome

(Vesuvia Weekly) What M6 get from their parents

When MC regains their memories

When MC has social anxiety

[snailsgoingdowntown]

Blood-Stained Relationship

Prologue i

Slight Yandere! Blade x Fem! Reader

Disclaimer 1: No incest will be in this story. It may seem that there is, but no, there isn’t. Everything will be explained as the story goes on, but again, there will be no incestual acts in this piece of fiction. The brother is NOT attracted to the reader in a romantic or sexual way.

As a matter of fact, the brother is bitchless lmao –

Warnings: talk of a sister complex, toxic and borderline abusive familial relationship(s), implied toxic marriage, implied borderline abusive parenting, obsessive and overprotective behavior/thoughts, hints of depression scattered about, repressed emotions, one suicidal thought, murder, blood. Please tell me if I missed any warnings so I can add them accordingly.

Disclaimer 2: I do NOT condone any of the harmful behavior or thoughts that take place in this piece of fiction. None of these actions should be romanticized or considered normal, as it is extremely toxic and dangerous.

Minors and Blank blogs DO NOT INTERACT

Note: I just kinda gave up in the end, I don’t even know what that last conversation was.

Wordcount: 3144k

===

Your brother loved to spoil you.

Cosmetics, designer brand clothing, the newest high tech, pretty nails that feel a little too heavy at times, and personal stylists that made sure you looked like you just stepped out of a fashion magazine cover. Not to mention the lavish furnishing in the spacious house you share with him. Almost anything and everything you could ever want right at your fingertips.

And you’re extremely grateful for everything he has done and more – after all, where would you be if it were not for his generosity?

A dingy little apartment on Burn Street, working as a barista, a two-room lease that you could barely afford rent for. The shady part of town where shop windows get boarded up every second month because someone decided to rob the place at midnight. Needing to use a sperate and out of the way laundry mat because you couldn’t trust the apartment’s commute one. Going by yourself without a watchful eye making sure that you’re safe.

Which is why when your brother asks for a favor, you return it. Smiling, laughing, wearing a dress he picked out for an event, or making friends from a specific group. He feeds you well, and you cook with the ingredients he provides. Unemployed, sure, but you think you became a good enough homemaker.

It was the least you could do, especially since he doesn’t make you pay rent or bills. He would insist that you just enjoy your time at home, or just going around town, with a watchful eye of course, you need to keep your safety in mind.

Even the pretty apron with lace ruffles adds to the aesthetic, the experience. If someone would give everything to you, then shouldn’t you do the same for them?

And that is the exact reason the kitchen smelt of exotic spices, with your hands kneading the yeast while keeping an eye on the meat simmering in the pan. The stove was one of the newest modes in the past decade but purchased two years ago – when your brother gave you, his hand. There were too many settings for the thing, but you knew enough to use it properly.

Am I using too much, or this fine?

You finish beating the yeast into submission – gently kneading until it is good enough. Egg yolk gets drabbled on, and you open the oven to put it in, the heat a little too close. Even with the oven mitten on, it reaches your skin.

The oven door closes with a ‘beep,’ as you set the timer. The clock on the wall reads 6:00PM. Your brother won’t be home until Ten. Whatever his job was must keep him busy. So busy, that he tells you to wait until around 7 seven o’clock if you plan on cooking, and eight pm for takeout. And like a good little sister, you listen to your dear elder brother. But you decided to start a bit earlier, today.

The meat is still shimmering by the time you check on it. Carrots were in the pan too, but you still cut bell peppers to cook them separately. And then, maybe you’ll scoop them open and fill them with melted cheese – or were you supposed to bake those? No, you don’t.

And then, after that, you’ll mop again, the smell of bleach filling your nostrils until you felt dizzy, and if the bread is still baking, then you’ll watch one of your shows until the oven makes a ‘ding!’ and then you’ll take it out and get the table ready.

You smile at the thought, washing your hands with cherry-scented hand soap, the water cold. It brings comfort. And smells sweet, the smell gently urging you to bring your hands to your face and take a sniff. You resist the urge.

“Mm, I should get started on mopping,” you take a right into one of the corners in the kitchen, the mini ‘storage’ door opening with the twist of a knob and a pull. Grabbing the mop and bucket set – that costed more than it should – you fill the bucket with bleach –

Ring! Ring! Ring!

You fill up the bucket, the liquid swishing within. You add some water, dip the mop in, and then place the head of it in. Then, with one hand, you grab the bucket handle, and the mop handle in the other, making way to the living room. The floor was made of tile, cold to the touch as you step out of your house slippers, bare feet touching the white material.

It’s colder than expected.

With a small sigh, you start to mop –

Ring! Ring! Ring!

“House, turn on the TV to channel sixty-five.”

The Tv turns on, the channel immediately showing after a few seconds. The news is on. You don’t pay much attention to the current events, but here and there you’ll listen in about one thing or another.

“Mm, I should do laundry tomorrow. And then I’ll ask Mei to accompany me to the store tomorrow; I need to get groceries. Oh, maybe I’ll look online later today for a new dress –

Ring! Ring! Ring!

“…”

A defeated sigh and you drag yourself to the kitchen to retrieve your phone, rather upset, which was uncharacteristic of you. You’d like to put your phone on ‘Do not disturb.’ But the model you use doesn’t have that setting, surprisingly. You should ask your brother for a new one. You told him that you didn’t trust that phone company or that seller.

But he had trusted them more than you. Close friends, perhaps?

“Who is it, who is it…,” it vibrates against the marble counter, the shrill noise making your ears bleed. You should ask Mei if it’s possible to put it on silent. It won’t let you do that either, but your brother knows how to bypass it. He’s smart, like that.

And you think you like that about him. Just how he likes the way you are. Because he loves you, his dear little sister, and because you’re a good little sister, you behave. Like you should, and how you were told – suggested – by Mei when you were first welcomed into your elder brother’s home with open arms.

Because he loves you.

Dearest Brother flashes across the screen, and you wait a few seconds before answering his third call. He doesn’t like how he deals with his employees and co-workers. He’s always gentle when it comes to you.

“Hello?” You put him on the speaker, placing your phone back on the counter. It was time to check the shimmering meat anyway. “Sorry for not answering sooner, I didn’t check the caller ID. I’ll make sure to give you a customized ringtone later.” You chirp while opening the lid of the pan. It was almost done; your hand takes the wooden spoon and stir the meat to make sure it wouldn’t burn.

“It’s fine,” comes his relaxed voice from the other side of the line. “I know you don’t check your phone often to begin with; you would rather watch TV or do chores around the house. We have a maid for a reason, you know,” he jests, a chuckle low in his throat. How classic.

“Hehe, I just like being busy. It’s hard to get out of that mindset.”

“Even after two years.”

“Mm.”

When he laughs, it sets off bells in your head. Loud and shrill. “I just wanted to check up on you. You didn’t answer my text an hour ago, so I got worried.”

He could have checked the cameras. The house is littered with them, but to his credit, he is removing most of them. Little by little. However, he’s considerate enough to leave them out of the more… private rooms.

That was a line that should never be crossed.

But, of course, you still gave Mei permission to report to – to tell him what you do with your day. To look around in your room, and it was okay. Because it was Mei. And Mei cares about your safety, even if she reminded you of your roommate in terms of emotional distance.

It was fine, it needed to be. Because you were still an intruder who was as lost as a lamb. Even with guidance, you still had a hard time adjusting. And thankfully, both were so patient it made your heart swell.

You just wished it didn’t hurt as much as it did. Hearts weren’t supposed to do that with good news. With good and sweet actions.

“I’m just happy that you’re safe. You know how much I care about you.” There’s shuffling in the background and whimpers. You can imagine that he’s with a woman, a lover perhaps. Because why else would you hear those types of sounds? It is odd, however, how… masculine they sound. And how far they are, with a crunching sound.

You can hear something break in the background. Sharp yet dulled – it wasn’t glass or porcelain. Your smile is shaky as you imagine what type of stuff he might be into. It’s only natural to be curious, but you push the thoughts away anyway.

“I know.”

And truly, you do. Why else would he take great care to keep track of your location. The people you meet, the men he chooses – it’s all for your sake. And you make yourself believe as much.

The air smells weird. Burnt and heavy. Also, is it just you or is there light smoke coming from somewhere?

“…When are you going to be home for dinner? There’s bread in the oven. And the meat is almost done.”

You look at the clock on the wall. The time reads 6:54PM. Quickly, you take off the lid of the meat. It’s burnt. Well, at least that explains the smell.

“Did I forget to tell you?” Your brother’s voice is light and airy, already knowing that you did remember what he told you. But he plays along anyway. Because that’s what good brothers do.

And he is a good brother. Who loves you so much… that sometimes, it feels a little suffocating.

How ironic. He’s the one who provides the air you breathe, and yet, he takes it away all the same. But it’s okay. Because he’s your brother, and you love him too. Just not as much. And he’s okay with that.

“I probably forgot. You know how I am, brother.” Now that you think about it, when was the last time you called his name, instead of ‘brother’?

“Haha, you’re right. I said around ten, but…” More noise in the background. This time there’s a gushing sound. Coughing. Wheezing. He’s into some weird stuff, isn’t he?

You hear a woman’s giggle in the background. But it doesn’t sound playful or innocent.

Your manicured nails rapidly tap against the counter. A little too loud it could probably be heard on the phone. He doesn’t comment on it regardless.

“Later than ten? Oh my, you sure do sound busy today. Be careful, alright?” Your concern is genuine, but these days, it’s starting to come from a different place. You wonder if this is what your parents went through when they were younger.

If that’s why your mother would call you so often the moment you hit fifteen. Worried about your safety, paranoia creeping up her neck like a snake. If you recall correctly, father did this with mother too. So, it’s natural for people to be worried.

It must be.

“I do, however, have a request of you.” His tone turns serious, and you already know what it is. It’s always the same thing every time. Sure, he loves buying you pretty dresses and nice nails, a personal stylist who listens to your every whim. Usually.

Because there’s another reason, he loves buying you expensive, yet simple jewelry, and clothes that complement your skin-tone and curves. It was usually Mei who chose the clothing, though. Because your brother still does care about your privacy, because he’s –

“Good brother, I was hoping you would set up another playdate. Same person, or is it a different one?”

You can practically hear the smile in his voice. You’re a good sister, so you play along with your brother’s schemes. Although, these days, it’s getting a bit… annoying. Every man is the same, and if they aren’t, then they’re shy and can barely meet your eyes. It’s cute.

You tap against the counter faster. Be a good sister because he’s a good brother. He loves you. And you should love him.

But love wasn’t always healthy.

Sometimes love hurts.

“It’s a different guy, but don’t worry – he doesn’t bite. I’ll never allow someone to even do as much as nip at you.” He sounds so confident you almost feel relieved. It’s common. Be a good sister, like how mother would always tell you.

Behave, dear daughter. They love you. We love you.

And you love us, don’t you?

“Of course; I know you’ll always protect me.” Your knees are starting to get weaker. Maybe you ate something bad because now you’re starting to feel sick. Bile is building up. “But if I may make a request…, can it be an hour or less?”

Even though you love your brother, you hate how long these dates can get. And you hate how boring they become after the first five minutes. But recently, they’re dull right off the bat.

“Thank you for everything, (name). I’ll make sure to make it up to you.”

Before you could reply, or he could say “I love you,” the line ends suddenly. You had heard more wheezing in the background before he hung up. Along with multiple apologies that came from a man.

 The meat got burnt so badly it turned black.

The bread has another hour or two to go. All is well.

Because if it wasn’t, then one of the knives in the knife holder would find home in your wrist. In your chest. In your neck.

Like a crumbled piece of paper, you fold into yourself as you fall to the floor. That was enough playing for today. Oh. He never even told you what time he would be home.

Distantly, you hear something break before you close your eyes. You’re tired.

You hope your sleep won’t be interrupted.

--

“I love my sister.”

“Mm, I can see that. Although… perhaps, you love her a little too much, to the point it’s off-putting. People may get the wrong idea, you know.”

Your brother turns around to look at the woman speaking – beautiful, with dreamy pale purple eyes that are jaded. Almost lifeless, yet full of mischief. Like a snake waiting to pounce, she watches him, her purple hair swaying with each step she takes towards him.

One hunter against another. In the end, who will go down?

She must step over the corpse laying on the floor, blood clinging to her heel. It’s nothing more than an inconvenience to her. As though she simply stepped in a water puddle.

“I don’t have a sister complex.”

“Your actions say otherwise. But” she stops right in front of him, gloved hand pulling down her sunglasses from the top of her head to the bridge of her nose. They gleam underneath the light, your brother’s reflection in them. He sees how thin of a line his lips are.

He’s not amused.

“It is because of your behavior that others stay away from her. That’s what you want, right?”

“No comment. But just know that I don’t have a sister complex. It’s closely associated with incest, and I don’t – “

“Alright, alright. We’ll just ignore that for now – “

“What do you mean ‘for now’?”

“– and get to business. So, you want to hire us, correct? For a baby-sitting job?” Her head tilts to the side, a lazy and smug grin pulling at her red lips. Despite her words, everything about her screams gentle. But the neon purple strings in her hand that are connected to the corpse say otherwise.

It’s – She – is as beautiful as she is dangerous.

“I wouldn’t exactly call it a ‘baby-sitting’ job, but yes. Besides, I don’t need to hire you to begin with.” Your brother shrugs his shoulders before crossing his arms. “I mean, I am one of your most valued resources.”

“Oh? Are you now?”

“Who do you think provides the funds? But, of course, if money is a thing that would make things easier, than… I wouldn’t mind paying a bit more.”

She smiles at that, releasing the string as it fades into thin air. “Mm, does the gender matter?”

“Yes. Unless, of course, you have a trusted gentleman.” He glances at the clock on the wall; 9:00PM. He wonders if dinner is ready by now, or if you burnt the food again. Maybe he should stop calling after five, else you get distracted. He needs to be a good brother and remember that you tend to get distracted easily.

“Is it 24/7? Or just during certain events?”

“For now, I’m not sure. But for sure, during her blind dates. There’s a lengthy list of them that I’ve been putting off. She’s just been so tired that I decided to give her a break, oh, but – “

“Please don’t go on a rampant. I know enough to judge the situation. But yes, I do know a trusted ‘gentleman’… I just need to clear his head occasionally. But for your sake, I think it’d be best if you introduce them soon.” She adjusts her glasses, fixing them on top of her head again.

“I can promise you he won’t show any interest.”

“But there’s a possibility he might harm her?”

Gently, her hands clap together. “There will always be a possibility that someone you hired might hurt her. That’s just something you can’t avoid. But if we avoid certain triggers, he’ll be as harmless as a fly… towards her.”

Humming in thought, your brother mulls over it. He did ask, so…

“But do not worry, for I will also be there, at times. But Elio has been sending me more scripts these past few months compared to him.”

“Him?”

“Bladie.”

He chokes on his spit. “You want me to entrust my dear sister to – “

“Trust me, he won’t lay a hand on her. Not if I tell him not to.”

“You mean force him to, you little she-devil…” he chuckles lowly, no true amusement in his voice or eyes. Again, he did ask, but still…

“What about Silver Wolf?”

“She’s more interested in her games than a baby-sitting job. And Sam… at least Bladie looks human. And rather handsome, too. But from what you’ve told me about your sister, he’s not her type. And she’s not his either; too young.”

“… I’ll entrust her to you, Kafka.”

[darkprincecait]

Was going to make individual posts for the members of Em's Girlfriend Army from my WIP but it'd probably just be better to make one long one so: look at these gals who I am also obsessed with.

Millefueille “Millie” Reedmace is a calico werecat who works for the same organization Em does, albeit as support staff. She is normally gentle and level-headed but can be fiery when provoked. Millie was heavily parentified growing up, and when her younger siblings finally coaxed her into moving out, she transferred her unhealthy need to care for others, even to her own detriment onto Em. Fortunately, both do realize this isn't healthy eventually, and they move past it.

Werebeasts in this verse are humanoids with animal attributes. Millie's main power is being kitty. She's fast, she's flexible, she has fangs and claws, she's affectionate as hell at the end of the day. She's also a trained martial artist and the one with the best cooking skills. But the most important thing is that she's kitty.

Chrysoberyl, aka Beryl is a mysterious young woman who Em rescues early on. She and her pet tatzelwurm, Goshenite, end up staying with Em once it becomes clear that Beryl can barely remember who she is or where she came from. She is spunky, adventurous, and athletic but also quite fashionable and stylish, with a love of jewelry and cosmetics. She also has a strong sense of duty, even if she seems to be a carefree and breezy gal on the surface.

Beryl is, of course, a dragon, with all that entails. She is strong and tough, capable of flight, and can freely manipulate lightning. She can shapeshift into a massive draconic form, but doing burns a lot of energy and calories, so it's not something she likes doing freely. She's also no slouch with a sword, for what it's worth.

Dianna Marcet is the elder of the Marcet sisters, a pair of witches who run a magical antique shop. Dianna handles the management side of things, as she finds most social interactions tiring. She is a teasing, snarky, and playfully manipulative sort of gal, but she's also very emotionally guarded due to certain events in her past. She and Em might have a situationship from the jump, but it takes a while for Dianna to actually start trusting Em enough to fully open up to her.

Witches in this setting are a variant of humans with natural magic reservoirs in their bodies, allowing them to use it freely from the moment of birth. Magic comes as naturally to Dianna as breathing, and she is especially adept at weaving it with the inherent magical energy in certain items or infusing it into technology. This includes robots. This witch could create a functioning mech if she wanted.

Luca Marcet is the younger of the Marcet sisters. She handles the sales side of things, being a naturally chatty and friendly person. While she is highly popular with women, she seems oblivious to this. Luca is eccentric, highly curious, sometimes to a fault, and is known for her tendency to personify and even hold one-sided conversations with certain objects. She seems to consider herself more of an accessory to Dianna than her own person. There's a reason for this.

Luca claims to be a witch herself, and she does seem to have an exceptionally solid control of light and fire magic. She is also naturally warm and has a tendency to literally start glowing when particularly flustered. Luca can also take a large amount of physical punishment for someone who should only be slightly tougher than the baseline human being, and she has no problem abusing this if needed.

Órlaith is initially introduced as an antagonist - an ice cold young woman who is slavishly devoted to her employers and will not allow anyone to get anyone to get in her way, least of all Em and her allies. She is actually a selkie whose pelt was stolen by said employers, and once Órlaith trusts Em enough to accept her help, she quickly turns face, revealing herself to be much warmer than she usually lets on, and even a bit goofy and playful in the right circumstances.

Órlaith has a natural affinity with the ocean and is capable of shaping and manipulating seawater. As a selkie, she can freely transform from a humanoid to a large leopard seal and back again by wearing her pelt; while her seal form is a bit clumsier on land, it is not to be trifled with. She is also naturally resistant to cold temperatures and is a natural with polearms, especially her trusty trident.

[hannahhook7744]

de Vil family Headcanons revised:

Trigger warnings: Child abuse, child neglect, mentions of dementia, mental health issues, unhealthy coping mechanisms, death, and animal abuse.

🐩🐩🐩🐩🐩🐩🐩🐩🐩🐩🐩🐩🐩🐩🐩🐩🐩🐩

There is an 11 year age difference between Hunter and Carlos, a 5 year one between Carlos and Ivy, and a 4 year one between him and Diego.

Hunter, Ivy, and Carlos are tech geeks in my universe and can't do anything musical to save their lives.

Diego, on the other hand, is the only musically inclined one who cannot do anything tech related to save his life.

Hunter and Ivy were born pre-isle but died trying to stop one of Cruella's plots when she found out and pursued them. Causing them to crash.

Because of their childhood Villainous activities they were resurrected and sent to the isle the year Carlos was born.

Both Antia and Roger have met Hunter and Ivy but only Ivy has met their niece, Amber.

Funnily enough, all of the de Vil cousins have four things in common—their love for animals, their tempers, their competitive nature, and their very strong passion for fashion.

They have a lot of pets that they have to play 'Keep away from Cruella' with.

Including a chicken on Hunter and Ivy's part, which is funny because their ancestor— Dimsdale—despises chickens.

They are descended from both Melione (Hades' daughter) and the Villainous princess Ivy from Sofia the first.

Hunter's full name is Hunter Claudias de Vil.

Ivy's full name is Ivana Mallory de Vil.

Diego's full name is Diego Ethan de Vil.

Carlos's full name is Carlos Oscar de Vil.

Carlos is the son of Cruella de Vil and James Charming.

Diego is the son of Cecil de Vil and an unknown woman.

Ivy is the daughter of Carmen Sandiego and Cotton de Vil.

Hunter is the son  of Helga Sinclair and Charles de Vil, making him the older half brother of Harry Badun.

Carlos's dad either got taken forcibly back to Auradon or was killed by Cruella. No one is quite sure which.

Diego's mother left him on the doorstep.

Ivy's father was a pyro noir like detective and the youngest of his many siblings, which made her a favorite of the family. Her father died in a freak fire related accident when she was 3. Carmen had no idea where she went after Ivy's father died.

Hunter's father was an artist turned Archery teacher who went by 'Archer' and died in a freak archery accident.

Hunter de Vil is dating a grown up Jim Jr (from Lady and the Tramp) and Jane's cousin, Elisa/Eliza.

Diego is dating Derek, Doug's older brother.

Carlos is dating Jane.

And Ivy is dating Gordon, son of Grumpy— and yes, they are aware of the irony.

Together (meaning them, their partners, their cousin P.H, and Cruella) they have 18 pets. Including 2 chickens, 1 ferret, 1 dove, 1 lab rat, 4 cats,  and 10 dogs (most of which are Cruella's).

Hunter is still an influencer (he was one when he was a teenager) and is also an inventor who works at the local tech repair shop and a part time mechanic.

All of the de Vil kids love chocolates but different kids.

Hunter practically lives off of coffee and energy drinks and kinder joy eggs.

Hunter is also a YouTuber.

Ivy loves oatmeal with strawberries and blackberries.

She is an inventor, a fashion designer, a salon owner who makes her own cosmetics, and a beauty pageant veteran who always saw Amber dearly (The Radcliffe's niece)  as a rival. This was one-sided.

She takes after her mother alot— she's elusive, playful, badass, etc.

Kids used to call her Evilana. Which she hated.

Diego is the lead singer and guitarist of the Bad Apples and a member of Harriet Hook's crew and the Anti-heroes' club.

He is also a tattoo artist who loves coke (the soda) and fast food.

Carlos is a tourney and ROAR member who loves video games, tech stuff, animals, and inventing. He wants to be a veterinarian or app designer.

Hunter, Ivy, and Diego helped Carlos build his treehouse when they were younger.

They all love each other very much and are very protective of one another.

Unlike Carlos, the other de Vils are actually quite fond of the Badun cousins.

Ivy loves the color pink.

Their ancestor that everyone thinks is the literal devil was actually a somewhat normal human boy who was just unfortunate enough to have been born with hooves and a tail (likely due to them also being descended from Hades’ daughter Melione and sorceress like the original Ivana de Vil—aka Princess Ivy).

For some reason, Diego is Cruella's favorite. No one knows why or how.

This is entirely one-sided; Diego despises Cruella.

Yes, Hunter and Ivy were born pre-isle.

Yes, they committed their crimes.

BUT, they were also 12 and 6, and highly abused and neglected.

And they redeemed themselves and got killed in the process in my timeline saving the puppies from one of Cruella's schemes gone wrong.

But of course, Auardon brought them back a year after Carlos was born and sent them to the isle despite the Radcliffes' protest.

Hunter was 12 and Ivy was 6, and they both cried and pleaded for mercy. Beast and Belle ignored them.

They hate them because of this.

Like their parents before them, they're close.

Unlike their parents, they didn't have a falling out and would still die for one another.

Diego is the only non-tech savvy de Vil of this generation.

But that's fine with him because he's the only one who can play any instrument.

The other 3 can't play an instrument to save their lives.

Despite the fact that Diego is a part of Harriet's crew and that Harriet is in alliance with Uma, he and Carlos are still close.

Diego is the only non disabled, sickly, or mentally ill de Vil.

All of the de Vils are into fashion.

The de Vil cousins move out of Cruella's house after Carlos goes to Auradon. They had only stayed for Carlos.

The de Vil cousins have an unspoken agreement to always look out for each other, their pets, and the badun cousins.

The de Vil cousins communicate in Morse code sometimes. Other times they communicate in sign language.

They made up their own language to communicate in as kids. The Badun cousins  are the only ones who understand it.

All of the de Vil kids have pets and take care of Cruella's pets.

They all feel guilty about the fact that they couldn't protect each other or their pets. Or the Badun cousins.

Jace and Harry used to have siblings. The rest of the isle might have forgotten this but they hadn't. They never would.

None of the four de Vil cousins will ever turn down helping the Badun cousins. No matter what.

No one talks about the missing Badun girls and boys.

No one talks about how the Badun cousins don't live with them, Cruella, and their dads anymore.

After Harry Badun turned 7, learning medical care became a priority for all of the de Vil kids. Maybe it's guilt or maybe it's a sense of obligation. No one knows.

Diego is the only one of the group who sleeps.

He's known as the only 'normal' de Vil. He's the only one who doesn't have a nasty nickname.

He's the one who keeps everyone alive which makes up for his bouts of irresponsible stupidity.

Diego is also the only de Vil sibling who can write in cursive.

Hunter is the only blonde de Vil that the cousins can remember.

This earns a lot of jokes about him being adopted.

He is never amused by them.

Ivy looks the most like Cruella. Her hair is half and half like hers, and she hates it. Hair dye doesn't work.

She's tried. Her cousins had to beg her to stop because she would break out in horrible hives when she used it and they were afraid she'd die.

Carlos is allergic to Wool.

Hunter and Diego have no allergies.

Hunter is claustrophobic and afraid of the dark  and being alone and forgotten because of his time in the crate. His younger cousins know very few details about it.

Diego's hair is the opposite of Carlos's—his hair is mostly black with a few white streaks and specks, while Carlos's hair is mostly white with dark specks

Ivy is afraid of burning alive like her dad but also addicted to the flames.

Her and Hunter are scared of dying again.

Diego, Carlos, and The Badun cousins had to sleep in their beds a lot when they were younger to calm them because of the nightmares they had.

They still do.

The 3 oldest de Vil cousins were in pure shock and mourning for days after Carlos left for Auardon. They thought they'd never see him again.

Carlos, Hunter, and Ivy go to all of Diego's concerts and like all of his videos  and buy all his albums.

He does the same for them.

They're all scared of going nuts like their elders.

They were all scared of their other relatives when they got off the isle.

Hunter never forgives Ben's parents. Never.

He and Ivy both try to pretend that they don't want to kill them both.

Everyone but Diego has had depression. Diego has just always been optimistic (and a bit angry).

Ivy is named after their ancestor, Princess Ivy.

She resents this.

Divus de Vil, or Divus Crewel—as he is now known—is a professor at Night Raven College.

He teaches the school's science curriculum, including potionology.

He, like the rest of his family, feels strongly about fashion and refuses to compromise on what he wears.

He is Cruella and Crisitan de Vil's twin brother who somehow managed to stay out of any serious legal trouble. Unlike them.

When he was younger, Divus was nicknamed 'devious'  by his fellow peers. Right around the time they started to call his sister 'Cruella' instead of Ella.

He was the favorite of his mother—meaning he was the only one who ever got attention from her.

He has no pets.

He, Cristian,  and Cruella taught their 3 younger brothers (Cyrus, Cotton, and Cecil) how to work on cars when they were all kids.

Back before Cruella and P.H became cruel, all 7 of them were rather close-knit despite their age differences.

Divus's mother named him.  His name means "divine"/"godlike" or "god". It can aldo be considered a variant of "diva", referring to a narcissistic and self-important person.

Cyrus was a teen dad at 14.

Malevola and Cruella didn't hesitate at all to yell at and belittle him for this.

He ran away a couple of years later with his son, Charles, and became a farmer.

Cyrus was a natural blonde but dyed his hair black and white in an attempt to fit in with his family.

Charles inherited it as well. They both inherited this from Oscar "Count" de Vil.

22 years later, Charles met a woman named Helga Sinclair and Hunter de Vil was born.

Oscar and Dintia de Vil are the parents of Malevola de Vil and her brother, Malice.

Of course, those aren't their real names. Only the names those who didn't understand their odd family gave them.

Oscar and Dinita would never name them those names. They were actual loving parents, thank you very much (Unlike Malevola).

Malevola and Malice are actually named Mallory and Malachai.

Malachai's unflattering nickname doesn't really fit him at all.

He may be the mastermind but Malachai isn't really eVil at all. He's actually harmless and quite kind. Unlike his nasty sister.

Oscar de Vil was rumored to be a vampire and thusly nicknamed the 'Count' because he always wore a black, hooded cloak.

And no, he isn't actually a vampire. He's just severely allergic to sunlight and has to wear a hooded cloak while outside during the day.

It's actually kinda funny/sad considering the fact that his wife, Dinita, loves the sun and taking walks.

She stopped doing it as often when she began dating him so she could spend more time with him, so it's safe to say their love was true.

Both of them were loving, confident, lively people who saw the best in everyone and loved life.

Oscar was a businessman and a doctor who was quite charitable to those around him and Dintia was an architect.

Dintia actually was the one who designed Hell Hall and the other de Vil properties.

The two of them and their kids were loved in the small community they lived in for the first 10 years of Malachai's life.

And then Dintia slowly started to forget things.

It was small things at first, like Mallory's favorite color and Malachai's favorite snack.

And then it was big things, like her anniversary and birthdays.

It only continued to spiral from there until Oscar dragged her to the doctor during the day—causing him to break into hives mind you—and got her checked out to find out what was wrong.

Not long after, they found out she had early onset dementia and Dintia started to change.

Forgetting who Oscar and even her own kids were. Not recognizing her two birds, Stormy and Sunny. Not recognizing her own pictures.

Oscar began to distance himself from his kids, throwing himself into his work in hopes of finding a way to save his weakening wife.

Dintia kept finding ways to escape the house and could often be found wandering around town, confused.

Some less than lovely people started to call her dementia instead of her actual name.

She died four years later when Malachai was 14 and Mallory was 10. And it hit everyone hard. 

Oscar and Malachai both fell into a deep depression and due to the time period they were in, they received little to no help at all.

Oscar became a shut-in and rarely left his house, glaring at anyone who approached him on the rare occasions that he did.

Malachai became a shell of his former self. He stopped talking and smiling and goofing around as much, and daydreamed often of his mother never getting sick and his life never going to hell. Hardly able to accept reality.

He actually checked out for a bit—becoming emotionally detached from everyone around him—and didn't speak for years.

If his son, Philip Herbert aka P.H, hadn't been born, he would have never come out of it.

Unfortunately, while he and Oscar were emotionally dead to the world, Mallory started to change.

She became bitter and resentful and apathetic to everything that wasn't fashion. And her morals and what she saw as important slowly started to distort until she wasn't recognizable anymore.

And she was oh so hateful to anyone who wasn't her love, Dupree, who would go on to be her husband—earning her the alias Malevola.

Dupree was head over heels in love with her and blind to all her faults, which would come back to bite him later.

They'd go on to have 5 kids in this order; Cruella, Divus, Cyrus, Cecil, and Cotton.

Malevola/Mallory didn't even attempt to be a good mother. Ignoring them when she could get away with it and being out of town often.

She'd even snap at and belittle them from the moment they were born.

Cruella would go on to be a fashion designer as did Crisitan and you know the rest.

Cyrus became a teen dad and a farmer.

Cecil became a film director and willingly went to the isle for Cruella.

And Cotton became a detective and a pyro.

Cotton eventually met Carmen Sandiego, one thing led to another, and Ivana/Ivy de Vil was born.

Ivy is Malevola's favorite grandchild.

Malevola tried to make up for her parenting mistakes with Hunter and Ivy, and the other two kids, but failed.

Mainly because she played keep away with them and their mothers.

Oscar (Malevola) was a good grandfather who visited on occasion but couldn't undo the damage his daughter had done.

Dupree died before he could meet Hunter, Ivy, Diego, or Carlos.

He admitted openly on his death bed that he regretted not divorcing Malevola when their kids were young because, while he loved her, she wasn't a good person and screwed up their kids in ways that couldn't be fixed.

Most of the de Vils are mentally ill in one way or another.

Harry Badun is Hunter de Vil's younger half-brother.

Cotton died in a fiery accident he caused.

Cyrus died in a farming accident.

Charles died in a freak archery accident.

Oscar succumbed to his old age, a bitter, angry old man who the children of the Village feared.

Hunter and Ivy died in a car accident while trying to free the dalmatians from Cruella and got resurrected and sent to the isle.

Cecil died from not taking care of himself when he fell depressed upon realizing he had damned his son and that his niece and nephews would never be free of the isle.

Malachai got sick and died when P.H was very young, causing him to be taken in By Malevola and Dupree.

Due to the sudden loss of the only parental figure he had and the neglect and belittlement he suffered from Malevola, he went mad.

He was introduced to science by Divus and started to experiment on any animal he could get his hands on. It rarely ended well for the animals. But Malevola allowed it as long as her dogs and Malachai's snake weren't touched.

P.H ended up experimenting on his father's snake and it died.

Cruella helped him hide the evidence.

Malevola was devastated and never found her brother's snake, leading her to assume she lost it.

It was one of 4 times Cruella and her siblings ever saw her mother cry.

Malevola told Carlos once that he looked like her brother at his age. It was the only time she ever mentioned her brother before her death.

Anita knew all of Cruella's generation growing up. P.H always scared her.

Once when they were all little, Cruella convinced them all to try her favorite drink; ink.

They all got terribly ill from it and never did it again.

No one knows how Cruella can stand drinking that stuff.

Carlos lives a long, healthy life with his friends and Jane.

Divus was delighted to meet his niece and nephews. Along with all their partners and friends.

Horace and Jasper were friends with the de Vils and Radcliffes growing up.

🐩🐩🐩🐩🐩🐩🐩🐩🐩🐩🐩🐩🐩🐩🐩🐩🐩🐩

Requested by @kivamyths .

[leam1983]

Disney Dreamlight Valley - Thoughts

It's like staring into a portal into an alternate dimension where Disney and fucking Gameloft are actually design-conscious devs in their own right, and will somehow package the Most Corporate Shit Ever with the single strongest distillation of the Life Sim formula I've seen yet.

I'm shocked, seriously. The premium elements are strictly cosmetic, the required commitment is minimal and none of the Valley's inhabitants adhere to a schedule that hampers your progression. Goofy's downed something like sixteen Adderall and cannot stop pacing up and down the central plaza, when he isn't stuck in a stumbling loop while fishing in one of the meadow's three lakes. The last I spoke with him, his shop was open and fully available by 3 AM.

Everything's accessible. Nothing's gated, except what should be gated in the context of a Life Sim, to induce a sense of progression. You've unlocked pathing tiles for the Village? You're free to cover the entire plateau in cobblestones, if that's what you want.

What the actual fuck. Coming out of Gameloft, devs who consistently paywall parts of their offered content, this feels like a Twilight Zone episode in its most positive form.

I mean - Yes, the quest-givers don't shut up and pester you for a constant downpour of menial shit that supposedly ties into reviving the Valley, but that's only if you do decide to interact with them. If you don't, you're free to spend entire days tweaking the Village's layout.

So, how different is it from Animal Crossing, exactly? Well, first of all, the whole damn thing has a Copyrighted symbol in full-view. If you're one of the staunch anti-Disney posters on here, this is a definitive mark of avoidance for you. Past that, it's basically a name-swapping affair: Tom Nook is split up between Scrooge McDuck (for personal housing needs) and Goofy (for exterior farming resources). Isabelle is more or less handled by The Sword in the Stone's Merlin, and Mickey eventually serves as your Blathers analogue. The one outlying mechanic is an Energy system, which asks you to either keep some food on you at all times to keep topping off, or that simply suggest you return home for a few seconds. Considering how most of the game will take place within walking distance from your personal plot of land, this is an extremely generous implementation of that mechanic.

If I had to dock Dreamlight any points, I'd mention the lack of obviousness of certain quests. I've reached one of the themed Realms in my current save; Realms being tiny instances themed around characters that aren't part of the House of Mouse's main stable. Take, for instance, WALL-E, from the movie of the same name. I've ended in his tiny little pocket world, and was asked to find something to repair one of his treads. I went looking and only found scrap that the game did define as quest items, but never specified what I should do with.

I'd assume this is just a matter of taking five to go check out a walkthrough online, but I really shouldn't have to do this. Even Crossing's most annoying event, like Gulliver's visits, typically include clear cues in the character's dialogue. WALL-E only spews "Directive?" at the player and disengages. Your 'toon somehow immediately grasps what's going on and realizes the robot needs repairs, but the process involved is never made clear. There's a crafting bench nearby, but no amount of fishing around got me close to anything resembling gear or tread blueprints.

Past that, color me pleasantly surprised. The farming mechanic is even more forgiving than Crossing's, the game's client-side currency is generously doled out, and the server-side token is actually not accessible in a Cash Shop!

At this point, it's sort of hard to figure out what the game is doing online. Apart from analytics, the occasional ad served in the Store page - which you can entirely miss - and the gatekeeping of Dreamlight (the currency, not the game itself) to structure player progression and avoid abuse, it behaves entirely like your average PC offering, complete with a flawless response rate on the Steam Deck and a gaggle of easy exploits accessible with a trainer. Can't pay back Scrooge's loan fast enough for your liking? Just pick a trainer producer of your choosing or hex-edit yourself a berjillion coins, and move on right ahead! No online-only bullshit as you would've expected from Disney and Gameloft!

It's a very pleasant surprise, overall. Skip it if you're allergic to remixes of When you Wish upon a Star or if Disney's older stable feels so saccharine to you that you'd rather jam sporks in your eyeballs - but it's actually a very competent Life Sim that's surprisingly lenient and pleasant. It's the most pro-consumer flex I've seen the Mouse pull off in a long time, and a great alternative if you're looking for something to fill in that Tom Nook-shaped divot in your heart, in the absence of a Nintendo Switch or a copy of New Horizons.

[rissararity]

Little Soldats - Bucky Barnes/OC

By RissaRarity

(Dead dove do not eat. Rape/forced breeding, unprotected P/V sex, Non-consentual drug use, abuse warning - 18+ only)

Fic masterlist:

CHAPTER FOUR

The following morning, Vanessa practically floated around the motel room as she dressed for the day- opting for skinny jeans, knee high combat boots, a grey tank top and green military style jacket; her options at the goodwill they stopped at were rather limited.

She put her wavy hair up in a clip and tied a black scarf like a headband- a look James seemed to like. The woman was excited to get some dollar store eyeliner and mascara, her prized possessions that she wielded expertly.

James found he was very much a fan of these cosmetics on her too, making her eyes pop in contrast. As bad as it may sound, he was glad they’d chosen such a stunning woman for him. It could have been worse.

Hydra had given them a fair amount of American funds for this…road trip. She had no idea how much but James never seemed to hesitate to slide the credit card.

Still they kept things on the cheap side, trying to not raise any flags and only buy things they could argue would aid in their disguises or the missions.

For their trip to the grocery store, he’d opted for dark wash jeans, a fitted grey t shirt, black zip up hoodie and leather gloves to cover his hand.

They eyed each other as they stood in front of the door, she showed him her left hand to prove the tracking ring was still on and promised she wouldn’t leave his side.

Hand in hand, they locked their motel room behind them and headed down the street to the closest grocery store- a small local shop with only baskets and no carts.

James immediately grabbed one and followed Violet as she went up and down the aisles, happily dropping things into the basket including a bread pan, mixing bowl, and cheap silverware pack.

The woman behind the counter smiled as Violet chattered away while her husband smiled dumbly and listened, seeming entranced by her as he followed with the basket.

For James, this moment brought more happiness than he could remember experiencing. It was delightfully domestic and while it may have been boring to the average man, it was a sliver of the life he’d missed out on. He got to pretend he really was a happily married man, trying to start a family with the woman he loved. To imagine that they’d go home to the little house they owned and bake banana bread together while their cat chased mice in the field.

The life never got to have, but deeply wanted in his subconscious.

Before he knew it, he realized she was starring at him.

“W-what?” he asked, shaking his head a little. She sighed and held up two spatulas, one shaped like Mickey Mouse and the other was normal.

“What one do you like?” She asked again.

“Whatever you want is fine, Doll.” The word rolled off his tongue naturally, and she was visibly taken off guard by it, blinking rapidly as her cheeks flushed.

Suddenly bashful, she dropped the Mickey Mouse one into the basket, put the other back and moved on to the spice section of the store.

He picked up on her mood change and a slightly arrogant smirk crossed his face as he followed behind her. He’d noticed woman and even some men looking at him before but he never cared enough to realize why.

He looked at his reflection in a glass bottle and admired his face, wiggling his nose a little at his shaggy hair and combing his fingers through it to push it back, holding the rapidly filling basket with his metal arm.

Violet noticed this from the corner of her eye and walked over to stand beside him, wrapping her arms around his torso from the side. “You’re very handsome, you know.” She said softly, “I’m sure you had the ladies fawning over you at one point.”

He knit his brows as he got a flash back of chatting up girls in pinup dresses at dance clubs. “I think I did. But I’m a married man now, and I only have eyes for you.” He leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead, wrapping his flesh arm around her while he did it.

“Do you think…” he asked quietly, “Do you think they’d care if I got a haircut? It wouldn’t really effect anything. We could say it was for the cover.”

They got quiet as another customer walked by.

“I like it long. Maybe a trim though.”

He nodded as they made their way to the register and paid for their items.

They headed down the street with their bags and returned to the motel room in comfortable silence. When they entered she asked, “So you think he’d let a stranger come near you with scissors?”

James got a mental image of sitting down in a barber chair only to grab the scissors and shove them in the barbers eye.

“No, actually.” He frowned, “I don’t think I could stop him.”

“I could try. Would he trust me?” she asked as he set the bags on the counter and hesitated.

“He’s under orders to keep you safe so…he wouldn’t kill you. But…I can’t promise he wouldn’t incapacitate you.”

She pouted, clearly disappointed.

“You know it’s not me that doesn’t trust you.”

“I know. I just…” she sighed, “never mind.”

“I could do it myself. What do you think would look good?”

She lit up a little, “With your face, anything. But if we’re keeping it on the longer side, maybe just cut these here…” she reached up and grabbed small sections on either side of his face. “Your hair would wave a little if it weren’t so heavy, I think it would look nice.”

“just a minute.” He reached into his boot and pulled out a small knife, she took a half step back in surprise.

“Always prepared, huh?”

“Always.” He winked, smirking as she blinked rapidly again before he turned to the dresser mirror and leaned close, expertly using the knife that had killed countless people to delicately cut his hair while she washed the new dishes in the sink and prepped her ingredients.

By the time she was done, he was shuffling his hair with his hand until it arranged its self in a way that looked lightly feathered.

He turned toward her and offered a smile, “Better?”

She looked over and smiled back, nodding. “You’re very handsome, James.”

His smile became genuine as he slipped through blade back into his boot.

He watched her mash bananas in a bowl, cringing slightly at the sound. “Sounds…like something else.”

She laughed, “You keep those dirty thoughts to yourself, mister, or no banana bread for you.”

“As if you could eat a whole loaf of bread yourself!” he chuckled.

“To spite you, I could.” She lifted her chin defiantly mushing the bananas especially loudly now.

“Ohhh I’m sure you could.” Not. He backed a way a little, putting his hands in his pockets and watching her eye ball the other ingredients expertly.

“Brown sugar and white sugar?” he asked.

Vanessa nodded, “white sugar runs the risk of making to come out dry, brown sugar can make it too moist and it falls apart and takes longer to cook. So…half and half is what Juliette and I found works best.”

“It’s a lot of sugar.”

“And bananas so….it evens out.”

He chuckled, “No, I don’t think it does.”

“Is that a complaint, I hear?” she pointed the spoon at him threateningly.

James stood a little straighter, “No ma’am.”

“Better not be!” she returned to her baking and wasn’t disturbed again as she put the prepared pan into the tiny oven she didn’t fully trust.

They chatted for the hour it took to cook, the last ten minutes was just about how good it smelled.

“It has to cool before we can eat it, or it’ll fall apart.” She told him as she opened the oven and the delicious scent spilled into the room.

“Damn.” She said after a moment, heading to the bathroom.

“What?”

“I forgot to get pot holders. I’ll just grab some wash cloths to take it out.”

James stood “I got it.” He reached in with his metal hand and retrieved the pan with no hesitation, setting it on the cold burner.

She paused mid-step and came back, grinning, “Thanks. I always forget that has other uses.”

He chuckled, “Honestly, so do I. I don’t always think of it first, I’m right handed.”

She joined his laughter, rubbing his back a little.

The mood died down when he looked at the time. “I’ve gotta head out soon. We leave tomorrow, remember.”

She nodded, trying not to show her disappointment that he had to go be The Winter Soldier again. That was the whole reason they got to leave the Hydra base, after all.

Vanessa hated knowing that death followed them everywhere they went. But on the other hand, with the bringer of death being tasked with keeping her alive…she’d probably never been safer- as long as no one followed him back to her and she complied with his orders.

They were currently in Arkansas heading North-east. He’d told her the last target would be the most dangerous one, and would be in New York.

After the mission was completed they had to return to Russia together where he would be reset again, and likely forget the good times they had and bonding they’d done.

They’d be back to being the asset and the vessel. Her life would likely be a loop of being bred, pregnancy, childbirth, then probably having her children taken away and the cycle beginning again.

And so, Vanessa was determined to squeeze what enjoyment she could get out of the next two weeks, because it would have to last a lifetime.

--

When it was time for him to go, she gave him a hug before he left. She could already feel his programming had taken over as he stood stiffly while she wrapped her arms around his torso.

“Come back safe to me, that’s an order.” She tried to joke but he only rolled his eyes and waited for her to let go- yeah, James was definitely gone for the evening.

Feeling daring, she got on her toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek before releasing him and taking a step to the side. “Stay here.” He said numbly, waiting for her to nod before leaving the room and locking the door behind him.

--

Vanessa packed her bags to be ready to go the next day, glad she also bought ziplock bags to keep the banana bread in.

It was early morning when the Soldat returned, clutching his side that bled in a couple of spots.

She ran over, hesitating for a moment when the look in his eyes told her this was definitely the Soldat and not James.

She slowed her run and put her hands up in surrender as his icy eyes snapped to her like assessing a threat.

Being injured had him locked in to survival mode.

“Easy, it’s just me. I want to help you.” She offered a nervous smile, slowly pointing to the first aid kit on the counter.

He eyed her skeptically, leaning on the wall.

“Come on, you need to lay do-“ she tried to rush him and help him over to the bed but he immediately grabbed her and shoved her into the wall, slamming the side of her face.

“H-HEY….” She kicked at him but he easily avoided her, glaring at her while one hand still put pressure on his side.

“Y-you can’t hurt me. You’re under orders to keep me safe and alive, remember?”

His one handed pin on her slowly loosened.

“That’s it. Now let the winter wife help you.”

His knee slowly released the back of her legs and she refrained from rubbing her red cheek as she went to get the first aid kit.

He dropped onto the bed and watched her like a hawk as she opened the kit and put on the gloves in it.

Vanessa carefully helped him remove his vest, trying to keep in any reaction to anything under control. She’d never seen him injured before, it looked like a through and through gun shot. Two of them.

“N-nothing major, hit.” He panted slightly.

“I would assume that based on the fact that you made it back.” She quirked a smile, trying to comfort him how she would James.

But the winter soldier only rolled his eyes.

She snickered at his reaction as she cleaned the what blood she could off for better line of sight. “We couldn’t afford the hospital back home, so you’re lucky I’ve done this before. Gave my family two years of gang protection.” She admitted, making him raise an eyebrow a tiny bit in surprise but he didn’t detect any lies.

She offered him a towel, “Might wanna bite down on something.”

His eyes glazed over a little more and he went to lean toward her only to grunt in pain when she punched near one of his wounds. “None of that!” she growled, “I’m in charge tonight, soldier. Sit still, shut up and let me work. That’s an order.”

To her surprise, he looked amused while he considered the situation. “Yes ma’am.”

So, The Winter Soldier followed the Winter Wife’s order and didn’t move until she declared him all patched up.

“Rest up. Do you want some banana bread?”

He blinked at her until she held the plate out and showed him. His gaze softened as he looked form the plate to her face a couple of times. After a moment, he nodded and she cut him a piece.

“We don’t have butter to put on it but I doubt you’re too picky.” She passed him a slice. He sniffed it before taking a giant bite and downing it.

“Glad you like it.” She smiled, cutting another piece for him – same result.

She helped him get comfortable on the bed and set a glass of water on the bedside table, giving him one of the paper backs she’d bought to entertain herself while he was at work.

He watched her try to keep herself busy, gradually feeling better as his wounds healed quickly. She was bent over wiping out the oven when his arms encircled her waist and pushed his hardness against her.

“Whoa, hey,” she stood up and turned around, finding herself pinned to the counter with his arms on either side of her. “Relax, you need to heal.”

“ ‘m done.” He lifted up his shirt to show the stitches were just there for no reason now.

“You knew you didn’t need them and you let me do that anyway?” she was flabbergasted.

He shrugged, “I was under orders. I have other orders too-wife.” He dropped his shirt and cornered her again.

“Please, soldat. Let James do it.” She looked down shyly, cowering slightly.

“We’re the same.” He countered, reaching under her shirt only to be slapped away.

“N-No, no you’re not.”

“I can be good to you too.” He gently pushed her hair behind her ear with his metal arm.

She flinched, “Y-you always get t-too excited. I don’t like when it h-hurts.”

“You know,” he paused and lightly tilted her chin up. “I fuck the way he wants to. He’s only gentle for your sake.”

“And I appreciate it. I’m sure we’ll have plenty more times together at the base…please,” she gasped as he went from tilting her chin to grabbing her jaw while he looked down at her with no affection in his frozen eyes. She gulped, “Please let James do it. My life is going to be pain and suffering until I’m no longer able to bare children and I’ll probably be killed when they have no use for me.” She licked her lips nervously as his other hand grabbed her hip painfully. Her heart pounded, he could smell her fear - she knew she was running out of time to plead her case before he bent her over the counter.

She opted to go for specifics, “Painful, degrading sex with you, the creepy voyeur doctor, pregnancy, childbirth, having my babies taken away over and over and over. Please….” Her voice broke. “Allow me the last kindness I’ll ever get in my life. Let me enjoy these few weeks with James before they take him away again and we return to the lowest pit in hell.” Tears slid down her cheeks as she anxiously waited for the Soldier to decide.

For the next thirty seconds she felt like she was waiting her turn for the executioners block.

“This time. I can make no promises about the future.” He said at last, still stone faced.

“…Thank you.”

“However,” His grip on her jaw softened, “I don’t get to enjoy much. And we both like kissing-you’ve gotten a lot better. James hasn’t told you, but I don’t care enough to be shy.”

She blushed, meeting his icy eyes.

“And we both like that, too. You blush so easily.” His thumb softly caressed her lower lip. “You’re like a whore and a virgin.”

Her eyes hardened a little, making him crack a grin. “Oh come on, you like being told you’re a good girl.”

“Good girl and whore are two different things.”

The assassin pursed his lips, “Not necessarily. Not to me. Maybe we can start branching out a little-you could be a good little whore.”

She made a face, “I don’t appreciate being called a whore.”

He winked with a cocky smirk. “All about context, and tone – little one.”

Relaxing a little, she crossed her arms and huffed.

“You accept that, no problem.”

“Yeah, its sweet.”

He nodded, “Well, are some point I’m going to try a new nickname and we’ll see how you feel about it in the moment. You could use a little toughening up- James could use a little more excitement.”

She considered his last statement, the bit about James.

He always made her feel good, be it his fingers or mouth but he’d never asked her to return the favor, even turned her down when she offered. She was sure the doctor would make her do it at some point and it wasn’t going to be pleasant for her. She wanted to practice before her first experience was as traumatizing as her first time with The Winter Soldier.

But she wanted to try with James.

“Just…go relax until you go dormant again- please.”

“Right after that kiss I was nice enough not to just take.”

“That’s not part of your orders.”

He gave a dark chuckle, “All I have to do is bring you back in decent health and preferably pregnant. That’s all the rules they set, baby girl.” The way he said baby girl twisted her stomach as he eyed her like a piece of meat.

“I don’t have much of a soft spot for you like he does. I have free reign over you, Princess. Now I suggest you stop trying my patience.” His tone made her hair stand on end as he squeezed her jaw again.

“Okay j-just promise me it’s just a kiss.”

“Would I lie to you?” he tilted his head, deadeyed.

“I…I’m not sure. About this…maybe.”

He gave a brief impressed look, “You’re smarter than you appear, Golubka. But you’re gonna have to trust me or I will turn you around and bend you over that counter.”

She paled at the threat and got on her toes to press her lips to his. His arms wrapped around her waist at once and coiled around her like a snake.

Her heart pounded in her ears as she waited to hear the tearing of fabric or to have the wind knocked out of her by the fake marble shoved into her belly.

But no.

“Not so bad, huh?” The soldier murmured against her lips before reclaiming them and pressing their bodies against each other as their tongues danced.

She had to admit, they did kiss almost the same. The soldiers kiss felt somewhat heavier than she was used to- dirty in a way she wasn’t sure how she felt about.

He kept their torsos together, gripped the back of her head with his flesh hand while the metal one traced her back and followed the shape of her ribs into her waist.

 He pressed his hardening member against her but let her push him away- at least a little. “Had to try.” He smirked, leaning his hips away as he pulled her lips back to his, stooping for her a bit.

After the second time she needed to stop for air, he gave her a grin that didn’t reach his cloudy eyes. “I’ll go relax, as ordered.”

She tried to give a yeah that’s what I thought nod but it came out too shaky convey the message.

The soldier kicked off his boots and laid down in the bed, staring at her blankly as she got her own slice of banana bread.

That became their weekly treat, no matter where they traveled to. They kept banana bread in a ziplock bag and would bake a new one together when they ran out.

The next morning, Vanessa carefully unfurled herself from around the still nude James. When she stood she flinched slightly at the large drip down her legs.

“….shower…” she made a disgusted face and headed straight for the bathroom.

James woke and used this time to pack all the weapons he had stashed around the hotel room.

After a quick banana bread breakfast, they double checked that all their stuff was in the car and headed out.

He liked the driving more than anything else. It gave him a sense of normalcy he didn’t often get and helped him clear his head.

 He liked that it was time he could spend with Vanessa where there wasn’t a constant neon sign in his head reminding him Operation Winter Wife was on going.

It was the one time the passenger in his head let him fully focus and live in the moment- since staying under the radar also included obeying traffic laws and not drawing any attention.

He could let himself think, just shut his mind off and live off reflexes for a while or let Vanessa amuse him by prattling on about this or that.

Both wanted to enjoy their time of relative freedom and to squeeze as much enjoyment out of it as possible.

It was also nice not to have to steal a car or motorcycle to travel. Hydra got them a standard unassuming car to get from one place to another. The idea was to remain under the radar until the final target was taken out. Legit car, using real money, Violet’s stories about her family, the cover story of their marriage and road trip to visit family that couldn’t come to the ceremony because they eloped, it all added up to a perfect cover life for a normal man.

His final target would never see him coming. Only a few more days until they made it to New York for the final hit before they had go return to base.

James really had some thinking to do, and the only place to do it was while driving. He’d put Vanessa’s favorite light purple fleece blanket in the passenger seat and cranked the AC- successfully making her cozy enough to sleep for the next few hours.

For once, leaving himself truly alone to think.

[staceymcgillicuddy]

okay also...what would a role reversal au look like for you if you were going to write one?

GOOD. QUESTION. I am once again going to ramble and see what happens.

I don't think I could write a dick Wayne, so in this scenario, Eddie's parents are alive. Or, his dad is, at least. Mom may or may not be. And, I think his dad is still a sleazebag, but instead of stealing cars, he sells them, and he's that sort of "big deal in a small town" asshole. Think season 1 Buddy Garrity from Friday Night Lights. He pushes Eddie into sports, even though Eddie's legitimately more interested in music and art, and his dealership always sponsors the team.

Eddie's popular by default, because of who his father is, and he doesn't question that popularity much, but he doesn't abuse it, either. He's well-liked, his grades are decent, and nobody knows that underneath it all, he's got a pretty severe anxiety disorder brought about by his dad constantly riding him to be better, do better, live up to the family name.

Chrissy teetered on the edge of being well-liked in elementary school, but an ~incident tipped her over the edge into being the weird, freaky girl. I'm not 100% sure what that incident was, but it was definitely something out of her control, and other kids jumped on it, because it marked her as different. Her family is mostly the same, cosmetically and economically, but Laura is horrified that her daughter is not only the school weirdo, but lately, she's leaning in to being the weirdo. (See point four.)

Chrissy used to be bothered by the fact that she wasn't well-liked, but over the summer, she stopped giving a shit and embraced her oddities. I want to say it's because she had a summer job where she worked alongside Robin Buckley at the ice cream shop, and she didn't know Robin before, but seeing how cool and doesn't-give-a-fuck Robin is made Chrissy want to be like her. So, she leans into the punk/goth aesthetic (I see that for her more than metal) and she and Robin are actually pretty good friends once she starts her senior year.

I think, up to that point, Chrissy would be more of a loner than Eddie, just because it's tougher for girls to say "fuck it all" and do something like start a D&D club. I do think Eddie takes the rejection to heart, but he masks it well, and it takes Chrissy longer to find her mask. However, Robin introduces her to Steve and Jonathan and Nancy (who are all middling-to-unpopular in this universe, because plot), and for the first time, Chrissy has people who give a shit about her, even if she has a hard time letting them in at first.

As for their meet-cute, I think they're generally aware of each other, in the "we're in the same class" way, but at the start of their senior year, they both need an arts credit, and end up taking drama. Eddie wanted to be do concert band, but it conflicted with football, and Chrissy wanted to take art, but it was full. Neither has any intention of auditioning for anything, but they both end up in the fall play, which is probably something like Our Town, because that is what one DOES in high school. In fact, it's definitely Our Town and they get cast as George and Emily, because that's how romances work, damn it.

There will of course be drama around the play conflicting with football, and Chrissy coming out of her shell, and Eddie working through his anxiety, and lots of misunderstandings and assumptions and so on and so forth.

This was so much fun to think through!

[my-timing-is-digital]

CHARACTER OUTLINE

FLAWS.

moody | short-tempered | emotionally unstable | whiny | controlling | conceited | possessive | paranoid | liar | impatient | cowardly | bitter | selfish | power-hungry | greedy | lazy | judgmental | forgetful | impulsive | spiteful | stubborn | sadistic | petty | unlucky | absent-minded | abusive | addict | aggressive | childish | callous | clingy | delusional | cocky | competitive | corrupt | cynical | cruel | depressed | deranged | egotistical | envious | insecure | insensitive | lustful | delinquent | overthinker | guilt complex | reclusive | reckless | nervous | oversensitive | perfectionist | pessimistic | naive

STRENGTHS.

honest | trustworthy | thoughtful | caring | brave | patient | selfless | ambitious | tolerant | lucky | intelligent | confident | humble | generous | merciful | observant | wise | clever | charming | cheerful | optimistic | decisive | adaptive | calm | protective | proud | diligent | considerate | compassionate | good sportsmanship | friendly | empathetic | passionate | reliable | resourceful | sensible | sincere | witty | funny

SKILLS & HOBBIES.

art | acting | astronomy | animals | archery | sports | belly dancing | bird watching | blacksmithing | boating | calligraphy | camping | candle making | casino gambling | ceramics | racing | chess | music | cooking | crochet | weaving | exercise | swordplay | fishing | gardening | ghost hunting | ice skating | magic | engineering | building | inventing | leather-working | martial arts | meditation | origami | parkour | people watching | swimming | puppetry | pyrotechnics | quilting | sewing | reading | collecting | shopping | socializing | storytelling | writing | traveling | exotic dancing | singing | yoga | gaming | surfing

Tagged by: @nebulaties & @chaosandprotectors Tagging: @jurati, @heartfledged, @cosmet (Kennedy!), @elencr, @beneviolencia (CMO Picard!), @dimensionalspades (Julian!) & anyone else who’d like to do this!

[newstfionline]

Friday, August 30, 2024

Can Tech Executives Be Held Responsible for What Happens on Their Platforms? (NYT) This month, X closed its Brazil operations after one of its executives was threatened with arrest for not taking down certain content. Last year, Changpeng Zhao, the founder of Binance, pleaded guilty to federal money-laundering violations that took place on his cryptocurrency platform. In 2021, Twitter executives in India faced arrest over posts that the government wanted removed from the site. And on Saturday, Pavel Durov, who founded the online communications tool Telegram, was arrested in France as part of an investigation into the platform’s complicity in crimes including possession and distribution of child sexual abuse imagery. For years, internet company executives rarely faced personal liability in Western democracies for what took place on their platforms. But as law enforcement agencies, regulators and policymakers ramp up scrutiny of online platforms and exchanges, they are increasingly considering when to hold company leaders directly responsible. That shift was punctuated by Mr. Durov’s arrest over the weekend, raising questions over whether tech executives like Meta’s Mark Zuckerberg also risk being arrested when they next set foot on European soil.

California has become a new center of political corruption (NYT) Jose Huizar, a former Los Angeles City Council member, is scheduled to report to prison this week to begin a 13-year sentence for tax evasion and racketeering. “He was the King Kong of L.A. City Hall for many, many years,” Mack E. Jenkins, chief of the criminal division at the U.S. attorney’s office in Los Angeles, told the court. “And with his fall, a lot of devastation was left in his wake.” He is just one of 576 public officials in California who have been convicted over the past decade on federal corruption charges, outpacing states that are better known for influence-peddling like New York and Illinois.

Stealing to order (BBC) More than 430,000 shoplifting offences were recorded in England and Wales last year, the most since current police records began in 2003. And the British Retail Consortium reports a growing trend in "unscrupulous businesses taking on local product that has been stolen to order”. Ross, who has 15 convictions for shoplifting but has never been to prison, estimated he stole goods worth £300 ($395) every day, which he would then sell on to fund his crack cocaine and heroin addiction. He said perfume, cosmetics, alcohol and food were among the items he would regularly steal and sell on “as the cheapest wholesaler”. “If I had a bag full of stuff, I would know which shop to go to,” said Ross. “They’d take me into the back room, I’d lay it out on the floor and we would discuss a price.”

Surf before you worship at this church in Portugal (AP) Porto takes pride in its beaches, old churches covered in blue-and-white tiles and its famous port wine named after the city in northern Portugal. It’s also home to a different kind of church—located on its beachfront suburbs along the Atlantic coast near a fishing town known for some of the world’s largest waves. Parishioners attend in boardshorts, T-shirts, flip flops—even barefoot. They surf before they worship. Surf Church was established by a Brazilian-born Portuguese surfer and ordained Baptist pastor to spread the Gospel in a once-devoutly Catholic country—and top surfing destination—where about half of young people today say they have no religion. In less than a decade, it has grown from a few families to dozens of parishioners representing more than a dozen nationalities from across the world. Their motto: “ We love waves. We love Jesus.”

As the far right rises in Eastern Germany, companies struggle to attract skilled foreign workers (AP) Germany is facing a massive skilled labor shortage. Experts say that the country will need to hire about 400,000 skilled immigrants each year to maintain its economy, thanks to demographic decline and a shrinking workforce. Unfortunately, some parts of German society don’t care what the experts say. The far-right AfD party, which has focused on whipping up anti-immigrant sentiment to boost its support base, has garnered a massive amount of support, especially from rural Germans. “Even when there are no majorities so far, there are considerable minorities who vote for the AfD, either to express their protest or to openly express anti-immigration and anti-liberal positions,” said one German policy researcher. According to a recent poll of over 900 German firms, a majority of companies see the AfD as a risk to their workforces and garnering new investments in Germany. Recently, the International Monetary Fund rated Germany as the world’s worst-performing developed economy, adding to the economic worries in Berlin.

In Eastern Ukraine, Terrifying Bombardment and Near Total Destruction (NYT) In the darkness of the cellar in the eastern Ukrainian town of Toretsk, the soldiers did not know how close the Russian glide bombs were landing. But the sudden change in air pressure that accompanied bone-rattling booms testified to the bombs’ destructive force as they tore into nearby buildings. There are many ways to kill and be killed in Russia’s war with Ukraine, but Ukrainian soldiers say that glide bombs are perhaps the most terrifying. They are free-fall bombs, many left over from the Soviet era, but now outfitted with pop-out wings that feature satellite navigation, turning them into guided munitions. Referred to alternatively as “KABs” or “FABs,” they weigh between 500 and 6,000 pounds and are packed with hundreds of pounds of explosives. A single blast can reduce a high-rise apartment building to rubble and obliterate even concrete fortifications. In recent months, Russia has used the bombs to devastating effect, tilting the balance of fighting in eastern Ukraine in Moscow’s favor and allowing Russia to continue to make steady gains in Donetsk region. The bombs have also allowed Russian forces to raze whole towns and villages with ever greater speed.

Ukraine’s ‘flying furniture’ (BBC) Backed by Western tech and finance, Ukrainian firms are making hundreds of cheap one-way attack drones every month. Terminal Autonomy is producing more than 100 AQ400 Scythe long-range drones a month, with a range of 750km (465 miles). The company also makes hundreds of shorter range AQ100 Bayonet drones a month. It is one of at least three companies now producing drones in Ukraine at scale. The drones are made of wood and assembled in former furniture factories. Francisco Serra-Martins, a former Australian Army Royal Engineer, set up the company with his Ukrainian co-founder, backed by US finance. He describes his drones as "basically flying furniture—we assemble it like Ikea". The Bayonet drone costs a few thousand dollars. A Russian air defence missile used to shoot it down can cost more than $1m (£750,000). These drones have forced Russia to move aircraft to bases further away and reduce the frequency of their attacks.

Indian Doctors Lead Landmark Protests (Foreign Policy) For more than two weeks, doctors and medical workers have been protesting across India—the longest-running such movement in recent memory. The demonstrations were triggered by a horrific case of sexual violence at one of India’s oldest hospitals: On Aug. 9, a 31-year-old female trainee doctor was raped and killed at R.G. Kar Medical College and Hospital in Kolkata. The doctor had just completed a 36-hour shift and was resting in a seminar room. Police have arrested a hospital volunteer; however, the victim’s family alleges that she was gang-raped. In response to the killing, thousands of Indian doctors went on strike, declining to provide nonemergency medical care. In Kolkata, as protests continued this week, police responded with tear gas and water cannons. Sexual violence is a long-standing problem in India, but the Kolkata case has prompted unusual outrage, which protesters attribute to the shocking circumstances of the crime: The victim, sworn to caring for others and exhausted after a long shift, was targeted in a space where safety should have been guaranteed. Some female doctors say the tragedy underscores the prevalence of abuse of women in India’s medical system.

At Least 10 Killed as Israeli Military Steps Up West Bank Raids (NYT) Hundreds of Israeli troops backed by drones and armored vehicles carried out raids in the occupied West Bank, Israeli and Palestinian officials said on Wednesday, a growing third front in conflicts that extend from the Egyptian border with the Gaza Strip to southern Lebanon. At least 10 Palestinians were killed, the Palestinian Health Ministry said, in what Israeli officials described as an ongoing operation targeting militants and concentrated in Jenin and Tulkarm, two West Bank cities that an Israeli military spokesman, Lt. Col. Nadav Shoshani, said have become militant strongholds. The Israeli military said it had killed nine militants. The operation followed months of escalating Israeli raids in the occupied territory, where nearly three million Palestinians live under Israeli military rule. More than 600 Palestinians have been killed in the West Bank since the Oct. 7 Hamas-led assault on Israel, according to the United Nations, in violence involving both the Israeli military and extremist Jewish settlers. Israel has also arrested thousands of Palestinians suspected of involvement in armed groups.

Israel agreed to pauses in the war for polio vaccinations (NYT) Starting this weekend, Israel will temporarily pause its military operations in specific areas of Gaza to allow health workers to give polio vaccinations to about 640,000 children under the age of 10, according to the U.N. Israeli officials emphasized that the move was not the first step to a cease-fire, but rather an effort to stem a potential outbreak of the virus.

Food insecurity crisis (Foreign Policy) Namibia authorized the killing of more than 700 animals this week to help feed its population, nearly half of whom are facing acute food insecurity, according to the United Nations. The Environment, Forestry, and Tourism Ministry announced that hunters will cull 300 zebras, 100 wildebeests, 100 eland antelopes, 83 elephants, 60 buffaloes, 50 impalas, and 30 hippos “sourced from national parks and communal area with sustainable game numbers.” Namibia is facing its worst drought in 100 years due to this year’s record-breaking El Niño, which flooded some African countries and left others with extreme temperatures and drought. In May, the southern African country declared a state of emergency for the more than 1 million people struggling to obtain food and water. The drought has also caused high inflation and rising unemployment rates in Namibia as most households depend on crop and livestock farming.

African farmers are using private satellite data to improve crop yields (MIT Technology Review) Farmers in Africa are using space imaging to check in on the status of their crops, tapping into imaging from California satellite provider EOS to monitor the state of fields. Last year the company launched EOS SAT-1, which is solely for agriculture and has fees on the order of $1.90 per hectare per year, which makes it ideal for smaller farms and priced reasonably well for developing countries. Over 242,000 people in Africa, Southeast Asia, Latin America, the U.S. and Europe use the crop monitoring platform, with 53,000 joining the service last year.

Subsea fiber-optic cables (CSIS) Subsea fiber-optic cables, a critical information and telecommunications technology (ICT) infrastructure carrying more than 95 percent of international data, are becoming a highly consequential theater of great power competition between the United States, China, and other state actors such as Russia. The roughly 600 cables planned or currently operational worldwide, spanning approximately 1.2 million kilometers, are the world’s information superhighways and provide the high-bandwidth connections necessary to support the rise of cloud computing and integrated 5G networks, transmitting everything from streaming videos and financial transactions to diplomatic communications and essential intelligence. The scale and exposure of undersea infrastructure make it an easy target for saboteurs operating in the gray zone of “deniable attacks short of war.” In 2023, Taiwanese authorities accused two Chinese vessels in the area of cutting the only two submarine cables that supply internet to Taiwan’s Matsu Islands, plunging its 14,000 residents into digital isolation for six weeks. And in October 2023, a Baltic Sea telecom cable connecting Sweden and Estonia sustained damage at the same time as a Finnish-Estonian gas pipeline and cable. An investigation focused on a Russian-flagged ship and a Chinese-owned vessel operating in the area as the likely sources of the alleged sabotage.

Accidental falls in the older adult population (Journalist’s Resource) Accidental falls are among the leading causes of injury and death among adults 65 years and older worldwide. Globally, some 684,000 people die from falls each year, and the death rates are highest among people aged 60 and older. About 37.3 million people each year require medical attention after a fall, according to the World Health Organization. In the United States, more than 1 in 4 adults aged 65 or older fall each year, according to the National Institute on Aging. In 2022, health care spending for nonfatal falls among older adults was $80 billion, according to a 2024 study published in the journal Injury Prevention. Several factors, including exercising, managing medication, checking vision and making homes safer can help prevent falls among older adults. Removing fall hazards in the home—such as increasing lighting in dark hallways or adding railways to stairwells—reduced the number of falls by 38% among older adults.

[fishrpg]

2024-06-20: MEMS-14/Melville Part 2 (High Density, Middle Class)

Phase V Construction, 17 Stories Tall, Pop 452,708

Districts

Bricktown

A local manufacturer of building materials had a surplus of bricks in a nonstandard size from a large contract order that fell through at the last moment. There was no warehouse space to store the excess bricks, so the manufacturer convinced the municipal government to permit a beautification effort. Everything in this district is covered in sturdy gray brick, and the main street has been made pedestrian only. Dyed bricks piece together intricate patterns on the walkway.

Shopping

Luxury storefronts selling the brands that middle-class consumers aspire to own take up a 6-block section of the city. Most of the vendors are imported apparel stores by the prestigious fashion houses, followed by luxury cosmetics retailers. A lone vendor of rare books keeps the literary connection active here.

Villa Stack

Instead of the traditional residential housing towers, traditional mansions are built here and literally stacked on top of each other. The towers in the Villa Stack have a series of construction pads that are approximately 3 meters thick and contain all the utility infrastructure and connections a mansion needs. The pads are a fixed size and can accommodate a building up to 18 meters high, and construction can occur on multiple pads simultaneously.

Hospital District

Yang-Leith prides itself on its reputation for excellence in accessible and affordable healthcare and established a hospital for the residents. However, the most unusual feature about this area is the unrestricted automated pharmacy for medication taken orally. Yang-Leith medications are the only ones available by brand name, but the pharmacy allows any molecular formula to be requested and produced without a prescription or ID check. The feature is abused to make illegal pharmaceuticals, but Yang-Leith allows it because of its libertarian principles of open access.

Tent City AKA “The Pustules”

Individuals who can't afford traditional housing in the MEMS are forced to live in tent cities. Unlike the tent cities of yesteryear, anti-homeless ordinances have made it illegal to camp on the ground within the walls of the MEMS. The indigent population promptly exploited a loophole in the law and built a series of ladders and hook points on the side of the housing towers, allowing an impromptu neighborhood of bright orange survival tents to hang precariously off the side of the building. The lumpy appearance of hundreds of tents on the side of the building is where the nickname "The Pustules" comes from. It's dangerous to live here, and death by accidental falling is a common occurrence.

[theuniverseawakens347]

The devil gone dance …

you bitches SO concern with wether or not you got good snatch and a bag …

“How many niggas WANA fuck me CONSISTENTLY , eat me out”

“how many niggas WANA take me shopping…”

really…THEM yo 3 biggest concerns behind closed doors when the cameras are off?

then ya spin this “woke” PR shit stuff..

a woman can be MANY N EVERYTHING things, but it’s VERY obvious after the blinders come off that like…miss maam, you’re toxic.

I want to go into details, but you females do not deserve it…I’m sorry regardless of the passed and the trauma you went through…you got to the age where YOU BECAME AN ADULT MOVED YOUR SURROUNDINGS FELL INTO INSTAGRAM WOKE QUOTE LAND OF BOOKS AND THEN….just applied the words but missed the actions…or gave enough action for X time to get ABC results …

so… you WANA be a player so bad huh, and a NARCISSIST…good…got something SWEET for them asses.

“I don’t cook I don’t clean but I’ll tell you how I got this ring”…BITCH A PR STUNT FOR SOME $$$..don’t get me wrong, you in it as long as Beyoncé n jay z or even my adoptive parents yes YOU SHARE LOVE OF A PERSON, but you DONOT become IN LOVE…I’ll tell ya that much, and if being “in love” requires toxicity for ya…baby …you just law of attraction with a burnt black soul 🤷🏽‍♀️…

it don’t matter how pretty you are on the outside, naturally before the cosmetics…your soul gon catch up and rip open that body suit and …POP OUT N SHOW NIGGAS…you a certified, LOSER. NARC. CUNT. ( I know that word like sandpaper COOCHIE to ya ears, BUT I LOOOOOOOVE IT )…I’m not even giving you the name bitch, abuse THATS ( weird as it is) something “ special to me”… idk after having my beautiful baby girl, and her being a “fighter dog” no Mike fix context or whomever that nigga was…

Bitch is like royalty …HEAD MANCHON…I’m not giving you descriptive gems like I did in the past, you take my hard work for ya own, and count me out…PLAGIARISM at its uglies. Cause it’s YOU HOES.

My niggas, and rightful bitches gon know what I mean…you on yo shit while OWNING yo shit…

[steelbluehome]

"Sebastian Stan, the Marvel star who is becoming increasingly diverse in his output of late, plays Trump. He avoids acting out a caricature, even if the script sometimes can’t resist an attack on Trump's vanity"

The National

Cannes review: The Apprentice avoids Trump caricature, but only scratches the surface (click for article)

Iranian-Danish director Ali Abbasi's follow-up to Holy Spider is a compelling but underwhelming take on the divisive US president's early years

James Mottram

May 20, 2024

Premiering at the Cannes Film Festival, The Apprentice is arguably one of the most intriguing films in the official competition. A biopic of Donald Trump, it covers his real estate years before he turned to politics and entered the White House as one of the most controversial presidents in living memory.

Sebastian Stan, the Marvel star who is becoming increasingly diverse in his output of late, plays Trump. He avoids acting out a caricature, even if the script sometimes can’t resist an attack on Trump's vanity (“your face looks like an orange”, cries his wife Ivana, played by Maria Bakalova, the Oscar-nominated star of the Borat sequel).

Directed by the Iranian-Danish filmmaker Ali Abbasi, who has already brought us the unusual fable Border (2018) and the Iranian serial killer drama Holy Spider (2022), this marks a considerable step-up in scale and ambition. Spanning the 70s and 80s, Abbasi and his team capture the ugliness of New York, “the greatest city in the world”, back in the day.

Early on, a passer-by on the street tries to offer his wife to Trump, as the film briefly feels like one of those scenes in Taxi Driver where Travis Bickle surveys the human flotsam and jetsam passing him by.

An ambitious real estate developer, when the story picks up, Trump feels he can do more to modernise the Big Apple than anyone else, scattering the landscape with places like the Grand Hyatt and the famed Trump Tower.

But, as suggested by the title (a nod to the entrepreneurial reality TV show Trump would later front), he needs help. Enter Roy Cohn (Succession’s Jeremy Strong), an impossibly well-connected attorney who has famous clients and seemingly can help Trump’s family company, with a potentially damaging legal issue with the NAACP.

Shaping Trump, as he tells him the three main rules of business (maxims like “admit nothing, deny everything”), Cohn is a persuasive figure, superbly performed by Strong in a role that’ll likely get compared to his Succession character Kendall Roy. But inevitably Trump outgrows his mentorship, as fame and success swells.

At one point he meets Andy Warhol, blithely unaware of who the pop culture icon is. “Making money is art,” he tells the artist, and it’s this that seems to characterise Gabriel Sherman’s script, showing how Trump likes nothing more than striking deals and being a winner.

As such, his resentment for weak individuals around him festers, including his substance-abusing brother Freddy, Cohn and the ex-model-turned-interior-designer Ivana, who he spends most of the time disparaging for her cosmetic surgery (which he encouraged).

There is one shocking scene where he forces himself upon her, an alleged assault that was first reported in Harry Hurt III’s book Lost Tycoon: The Many Lives of Donald Trump. The only thing he cares about is courting America, “a country that has tremendous potential”, and building an ever-expanding empire.

Of course the film nods to Trump’s White House years, as he fondles a pin badge from Ronald Reagan’s campaign promising to “make America great again”. But while it’s an exciting watch, boasting an energetic feel and a soundtrack that includes Pet Shop Boys, New Order and Baccara, it arguably only surface skims Trump.

Perhaps we can never really get inside a man who plays so fast and loose with the truth, but the film gradually runs out of steam in the second half, despite showing what a ruthless and venal character he can be. In the end, it’s a story about the manifestation of horrifying ambition, and for that, it’s to be applauded.

Updated: May 20, 2024, 2:46 PM

THE APPRENTICE

Starring: Sebastian Stan, Maria Bakalova, Jeremy Strong

Director: Ali Abbasi

Rating: 3/5

[ginaraemitchell]

Book Review: From Trophy Wife to Cosmetic Surgeon by Victoria Johnson, M.D. | An Inspirational #Memoir About Overcoming #Abuse. #AutoBiography #NonFiction

In her 20 years in practice, people frequently ask, how did Dr. Victoria Johnson become so well known? How has her company grown so considerably? From humble beginnings at a two room shop at a shopping mall to running a two-story mega medical spa with over 4,000 patients and a staff of twenty, the autobiography From Trophy Wife to Cosmetic Surgeon tells the fast-paced story of her rise out of emotional ashes to become a nationally acclaimed aesthetic medical doctor. @DrJohnsonWrites @iReadBookTours @acornsireadbooktours #memoir #autobiography #trophywife #bookstagram #nonfiction #books #author #writersofinstagram #writer #booklover #book #bookworm #authorsofinstagram #reading #bookreview #booksofinstagram #bookstagrammer #readersofinstagram #bibliophile #writing #bookish #booklove #nonfictionbooks

Book Review: From Trophy Wife to Cosmetic Surgeon by Victoria Johnson, M.D. | #Memoir #AutoBiography #NonFiction @DrJohnsonWrites @iReadBookTours #iReadBookTours A book blog tour from iRead Book Tours. Thank you to the author, publisher, & Lauren at iRead for providing me with the information for this tour. Quick Summary Victoria Johnson, M.D., shares her captivating memoir, ‘From Trophy Wife to…

[antianimaltesting]

Stakeholders and Leaders

Non profit Stakeholders:

PETA - This organization advocates for the rights and well being of animals, and works towards ending animal testing through a variety of initiatives. Their "Global Beauty Without Bunnies" program includes a data base for conscientious consumers to find humane products and companies. Furthermore, PETA offers resources including information about the use of animals in experimentations, as well as how universities, colleges, faculty, and students can work towards ending the use of dissection by using interactive programs, like they would with studying human anatomy. PETA also works towards funding and developing research methods that will end animal testing. In addition, PETA has created the Research Modernization Deal which was presented to the European Parliament, and passed as a way to work towards creating a plan to end animal experimentations. This deal includes actions such as educating and training researchers in non animal inclusive approaches, eliminating the use of animals immediately in already failed studies, and redirecting the funds put towards animal testing, to different alternatives. Collectively, PETA has worked endlessly to be work towards a cruelty free life for animals of all shapes and sizes. Though they are doing amazing work, we must all take action and work towards creating a change together, and speak up for those who can't.

Humane Society International - This organization has created a "Be Cruelty-Free" campaign to end the use of animals in the cosmetic industry. Through this campaign since 2012, they have helped the creation of national bans or restricting in the cosmetic industry. Some of these places include India, China, Brazil, and more. They have also teamed up with other stakeholders through the Animal Free Safety Assessment Collaboration, "Supporting animal-free innovation in the beauty sector".

National Anti-Vivisection Society - This advocacy organization supports the end of animal testing and promotes using alternative methods. They state "In the service of what is right - for humans and for animals - we're building a world where all animals are respected and protected from cruel and unnecessary scientific experiments." This stakeholder is currently working towards ending the use of monkeys and dogs in research and testing, along with working towards ending classroom dissection. This advocacy group also fund alternative methods to eliminate experiments using animal testing. They work with the International Foundation for Ethical Research, who is also another stakeholder and focuses on advancements to replace and reduce animal research and testing.

Other stakeholders include The European Coalition to End Animal Experiments, the Coalition for Consumer Information on Cosmetics, and the Physicians Committee for Responsible Medicine.

Lastly, a major stakeholder in working towards the end of animal testing, is us (the consumers). We create a significant impact through decisions such as where we choose to shop, and we create the market demand, therefore we can promote and demand cruelty free products, and alternative testing methods. In addition, advocating for animal rights, and boycotting brands that partake in animal testing can work towards a difference through creating a negative impact on the company, but a positive one for animal rights. Lastly, being educated and informed on this crucial issue, as well as spreading awareness is critical for working towards a change. We must be a voice for these animals because they deserve rights too.

Linked Below is a resource we can use to ensure we aren't funding and supporting the use of animals in experiments, cosmetics, other products, and research.

Citations:

New deal in research promotes good science, eliminates animal experiments. PETA Headlines. (2023, September 28). https://headlines.peta.org/research-modernization-new-deal/

PETA’s “global beauty without bunnies” program. PETA. (2023, February 24). https://www.peta.org/living/personal-care-fashion/beauty-without-bunnies/

Sindicich, S. (2022, October 18). 5 awesome organizations fighting to end animal testing. One Green Planet. https://www.onegreenplanet.org/animalsandnature/5-awesome-organizations-fighting-to-end-animal-testing/

Humane Society International’s decade-long campaign has given the beauty sector a cruelty-free makeover. Humane Society International. (2023b, March 7). https://www.hsi.org/news-resources/humane-society-internationals-decade-long-campaign-has-given-the-beauty-sector-a-cruelty-free-makeover/

[hisviciousvixen]

Door Twelve: The Sciences

“The certain prospect of death could sweeten every life with a precious and fragrant drop of levity; and now you strange apothecary souls have turned it into an ill-tasting drop of poison that makes the whole of life repulsive.” ― Friedrich Nietzsche

~1633 - 1659 Palermo, Sicily.~

[Thofania d’Amado swung from the end of the hangman’s knot, the eyes of her daughter, Giulia Tofana watched the final twitch before she watched her mother’s shoes sway in a slight circular pattern. The crowd was finally starting to disperse and she knew she couldn’t stay there any longer. She turned away from the gallows and walked back toward her home. It was time for her to move on, to move away from the wretched place that had claimed her mother’s life. She had been convicted and sentenced to death for poisoning her husband, her father. But he indeed had it coming.

Women were treated like possessions, bought and sold at auction. They were sold into loveless and abusive marriages, typically to older, wealthier men. Women had no financial or social power and often were left with very few choices where their future was concerned. They could get married, they could remain single and use sex to make a living or become a widow. And like her mother, most women chose the last option. Just a few short years after her mother’s death, she had found herself in one of those abusive and demeaning marriages. Her husband treated her like an object, he treated her like a thing that he could take out and play with whenever he wanted. When she became pregnant, she believed the abuse would stop, but it hadn’t. Her husband had caused her to have several miscarriages before she successfully gave birth to their daughter. While he was away on business, she managed to perfect what her mother had started. It had taken her years and now that her daughter was nearly at an age where she too would be considered for marriage, she put her plan in place. It took several doses and the performance of a lifetime, but her husband was dead. A terrible illness had befallen him, something he indeed contracted on one of his many trips abroad. Now a widow, she went with her daughter, Girolama Spara, to Naples and then Rome. The two of them opened a small apothecary in the city where they sold cosmetics and tinctures to the women of Rome. Their small business had grown to also take on three additional employees. All women who were looking for a way to make ends meet. She gained a reputation as a friend to troubled women. The poison she perfected had been colorless, odorless and tasteless. Not an ounce could be detected after death. But those men…they deserved it. Aqua Tofana, became the name of the face cream she sold to the women who needed to escape. All it took was three or four doses and the women who suffered would be free. The first doses induced weakness and exhaustion. The second dose caused symptoms such as stomach aches, extreme thirst, vomiting, and dysentery. The gradual decline, however, would give the victim the chance to get his affairs in order, which usually meant ensuring that his soon-to-be-widow would be well taken care of after his death. With a third or fourth dose given over the next several days, the man would meet his fate. She saved countless women with her “skin cream.” And she never would have guessed she would have been betrayed by a woman with a bowl of soup. A young woman had come to her, begging for her assistance. She said her husband had been having an affair, they had been forced to marry and she hadn’t loved him, but she wanted to be free. She told her that she found love elsewhere, but leaving wasn’t an option. So, she sold her a bottle of Aqua Tofana. Once the bottle left her shop, it was in God’s hands. She didn’t want to know who or what became of either the husband or soon to be widow. Except this time, when the wife served her husband the bowl of soup with his first dose, she had a change of heart and begged him not to eat it. With the husband’s suspicions growing, he beat her into a confession that she had poisoned him. He took her to the authorities where she had been tortured again and finally she gave up the name. Giulia Tofana.

Attempting to flee, she, her daughter and their three workers fled the area, but stopped at one last point and emptied the last of the containers of Aqua Tofana into the town’s water supply. They fled to the sanctuary of the church, but it had been stormed and the five women were arrested and sentenced to be executed.

The night before the execution, while she was awaiting her fate, she heard a gentle, feminine voice coming from the other side of the door. Her voice was sweet, as though she could sing her to sleep with a comforting song if she wished. She said she was there to help her, she said that she was special, she said that she had known her from the time she was a child, but surely the woman would sound much older if that had been the case. Still, the voice had told her that she had a skill for science, for knowledge, awareness, understanding, but most importantly, she could ensure that she would live to see countless wonders in the future. But the price would be pain, pain that she was told she could endure because she was special, all she had to do was say yes. And so she did. She didn’t know what would await her, but when morning came, the five of them had been taken to the gallows, had ropes placed around their necks and when the floor opened beneath her, she expected to feel the pain come from the rope tightening around her neck, but that hadn’t been the case. She continued to fall, her scream echoing around, there was heat starting to blaze around her. She could feel her skin blistering, her nose filling with the scent of sizzling flesh and then she felt her body hit the ground and it felt as though all of her bones shattered at once. Her eyes opened slowly, the sounds of tortured screams could be heard all around her, but there was someone standing over her. He was tall and slender and his eyes were as black as pitch.

He grinned down at her and then she heard the soft voice she had the night before. “Berith…don’t be gentle.”]

~Present Day - Hell ~

[Another trip into the black sludge hall, she stopped at door twelve. It was covered in mold and decaying organic material and the smell was pungent and musty. She smiled as she pushed it open. Each of the four corners held something personal to Giulia. One corner contained her bed, her table and old-fashioned lamp and picture of her daughter. Another held several large bookshelves filled with books, journals and ledgers. The third was a scrapbook of pictures of her work, of her greatest hits throughout the years and each had names and dates scribbled beneath it. Nestor Lakoba Died:1936. Abram Slutsky, Died:1938 - Soviet spy. Nikolai Koltsov, Died:1940 - One she had been particularly proud of. Nikolai Koltsov was an esteemed Russian biologist and geneticist during a Marxist regime that rejected the field of genetics by claiming that it supported fascism, racism, and eugenics. He died unexpectedly. And Jonestown. In the last corner of the room was where Giulia could most often be found. She was standing in front of her tables and shelves which had lights, tubes, liquids, specimens and all sorts of things that she couldn’t even begin to understand.] Hello, my dear. [She watched the dark-haired woman's head lift and she turned to look over her shoulder. She smiled and the gesture was returned.] I think it’s time we get you out of the basement. [She could see the excitement grow in the demon eyes of her deadly scientist. “A job?”] So much more than that, love. You’re going to be responsible for broadening the minds of some very gifted children. [She watched Giulia’s smile grow even wider and she knew she didn’t need to do any more convincing. She allowed the location of her school to invade her scientist’s mind before turning to take her leave. The door remained open, the contents of the room relocated to the school. Another room to be claimed. Another position filled. Eleven more to go.]

#TDATD #Diabolical