#Free Slander Removal

[mochamvgz]

tbh i totally don't see what pleasure you can get by hurting someone??? and if you do you need SERIOUS help

these blr writers work hard and put effort and creativity into their work so who are you to belittle or undermine that by sending ANONYMOUS hateful asks. it's just such a cowardly thing to do

entertaining yourself by threatening, hating on, bringing someone's self esteem down, making them feel unsafe or anything even remotely close the above is NOT funny. is this what humanity has really come down to?

man I'm disappointed to say the least

@wvnkoi i hope yk that you're awesome! no wait that doesn't even cut close.., anyways pls take care of yourself and know that the people who love and appreciate you outweigh the ones that are js stupid and jealous by a landslide 🫶🫶

[shadowdarlings]

Rain and Redemption

Tamlin x Reader

Synopsis : After fleeing your home in the Court of Nightmares you seek refuge in the wild and unattended lands of the Spring Court. You are certain that you will remain unnoticed and can finally begin living a free life. After a year alone in the feral woods of Spring you stumble upon a most surprising beast, one who had been rumored lost forever.

Pairings : TamlinxReader

a/n : this one is for my tamlin girlies! i’m so excited to write this piece and i hope you guys enjoy. don’t get me wrong i love all my other acotar men but he’s been lingering in my mind lately. slight rhys slander but nothing that isn’t true <3 (i still love him pls do not demolish me in the comments)

Warnings : mentions of cruelty and torture, suggestiveness, tamlin being possessive (but in a good way)

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The forest crawled with many creatures. Some were benevolent while others sought flesh and blood. A year in the Spring woodlands had taught you much; survival chiefly, but it had also shown you strength from within that you had not known was there. The wherewithal to remain largely unscathed in such a dangerous environment was not cheap. Yet the perils of the forest did not compare to the cruelty of your home. You’d fled from the Court of Nightmares just over a year ago and headed straight for the Spring Court. Your plan to escape had been neatly designed. After the war with Hybern you knew that the southern territory was largely abandoned by its High Lord and sneaking into its territories would be your best bet at remaining hidden from your family and from the High Lord that ruled over them.

Over the years you had grown to detest the High Lord of the Night Court. His backwards notions of ruling fairly would have been laughable if they had not cost you so much. His love for the City of Starlight had left you and your people completely disregarded. Mostly left to manage yourselves, cruelty and violence soaked into the hearts of those who resided within the mountain. The reputation of your court was enough for Rhysand to deem all of you little more than the dirt under his finely crafted boots. After 50 years of growing up in such circumstances you’d had enough. Perhaps one day you’d return to uplift your people, to tell the pompous Lord exactly what his arrogance and misplaced judgment had cost you all. For now, you sat upon a moss covered log and removed your leather pack.

It had been a long day of traveling. Recent naga attacks had driven you from your previous shelter and further into the dense woods. The afternoon sun was quickly setting and you’d need to find new lodging before it slipped beneath the horizon. Taking account of your provisions, you deemed it safe enough to take a large swig from the water canteen stored in your pouch. After twisting the cap back on tightly, you shrugged on your pack and set off again to find a place to sleep.

It did not take long until you found a cave hidden amongst the brush and trees. Pulling back a branch you entered and surveyed the dimly lit cavern. Aside from a few discarded animal bones it seemed largely unoccupied. Whomever had been here before was long gone by your observation. Deeming it fit for the night you began preparing to settle and sleep. The latter caught up to you before you knew it, the fatigue of traveling getting the better of you. You slept hard and heavy until a crunch from just outside the cave jolted you awake. Flinging your eyes open you scanned the entrance to find a hulking shadow of a creature peering in. There was not enough light to reveal the nature of this being, as you had not started a fire in an effort to remain unseen. The giant figure took a step forward and you slammed your eyes shut, heart racing. Slowly and silently you reached for the dagger strapped to your hip but did not unsheathe it yet. Taking slow steadying breaths you monitored the creatures movements with only your sense of hearing. It seemed to take two tight circles and flop onto the ground, as if it too were exhausted. Daring to peek one eye open you confirmed your suspicions and saw the shadow of the massive thing taking deep, slumberous breaths as if it had paid you no mind whatsoever. Loosing out a silent sigh you thanked the mother for whatever amnesty she had granted until your lids grew heavy once more and sleep reclaimed you wholly.

Your eyes did not reopen until dawn cracked through the leaves and streamed into the cave. You moved a hand to shade your eyes from the light and slowly blinked them open. It was then you remembered you had not slept alone last night. Your gaze landed onto what seemed to be an oversized wolf curled up on the rock floor not three feet away from you. Your heart began its quickened pace once more as you silently turned away from it to sling your pack across your head and shoulder. Standing as quietly as you could you braced yourself to turn back around and make your escape. Yet when you faced the creature once more it was already on four giant paws, its eyes locked onto you. You sucked in a silent scream and took a step backwards against the wall of the cave, flattening your palms along the cool rock. Your eyes had locked onto a fierce pair of green ones that seemed to bore into your very soul. Quickly remembering what you had learned you averted your eyes and looked down at the ground. Ever so slowly you shrank down the wall until you had come into a full crouch. You had long since figured out that if you could not best something it was better to make yourself small and hope it would deem you unworthy of its time.

Yet the wolf took a step forward, and then another. Out of your peripheral vision you could tell it was lowering its massive head towards you. It took two long inhales then nudged forward once more. You knew it was foolish but you couldn’t help your curiosity as you lifted your head to gaze at the beast once more. Its emerald eyes were locked onto yours, almost as if it were a conscious being. You didn’t know if that was a good thing or not. It shifted once more, this time onto its hind legs to sit and then again to lay its enormous body down in front of you. Then as if trying to convey its docile nature the wolf let out a quiet whine. You weren’t entirely sure this was all real. It must have devoured you whole and you were now in the midst of some delusion brought on by death. Yet your heart continued to beat rapidly and your lungs still drew in panicked breaths. The wolf had not broken its eye contact and now looked up at you from its lying position.

Deeming your situation already lethal you cast your better judgment to the wind and let out a whisper. “Hello,” you said to the beast. It cocked its head slightly as if in greeting and curiosity. “I’m sorry I invaded your cave,” you said trying to tame the shaking in your voice, “I didn’t know it was occupied.” The wolf lifted its head ever so slightly and parted its giant mouth to reveal dagger like canines. “You invaded more than my cave, little nightingale,” it rumbled in a voice so deep it rattled your bones.

You were sure now that you were hallucinating. Your face was the picture of pure shock as you beheld the speaking creature. You sputtered and stammered, reaching for something to say. “You speak?” was all you could squeak out. The wolf remained lying down but lifted its head an inch further. “Yes,” it replied in that thick tenor. You managed the courage to straighten slightly and surveyed its lethal figure. The matted coat, the pronged horns that crowned its head, the striking green eyes that observed you in turn. It clicked just then. “You’re Tamlin,” you said, not exactly a question. The wolf blinked once, twice. “Yes,” he replied once more. You couldn’t believe it. You had heard the tales of a fallen High Lord who had bound himself to his beast form and hidden away in the woods. You’d just never expected to behold him, let alone engage in conversation with him.

You stumbled for your words again but managed to get out, “I- I’m sorry for intruding. On your cave and your lands. I needed…” Your ability to articulate a sentence evaded you entirely as you beheld him. “It is no matter to me,” he spoke, “not anymore.” There was a deep sadness that dripped off his words and you felt a tear in your chest. Without your permission, your body moved your hand up and onto Tamlin’s fur coated head. Your fingers threaded into the soft fleece and rested there for a moment. He stayed completely still. It took a few heartbeats to realize what you had done, what you were still doing. You retracted your hand, choking out an apology. Tamlin did not deign to respond. Instead he lowered his head back down and this time laid it right into your lap.

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He must be out of his mind, he thought. Yet he could not tear himself away from your gentle touch as you once again began your exploration of his fur. How long had it been since he had been touched? How long had it been since he had even seen another conscious life form? He breathed in your scent, that of lilies and hyacinths. It was polluted with the smell of the forest and survival. He had noted your thin figure before closing his eyes and relishing your touch. He noticed the dirty clothes, the grime under your nails, and the tangles in your hair that made you look wild and untamed. He pondered your presence in the Spring Court as you moved your hand to caress the other side of his head. He knew he should kill you. What other reason would a Night Court citizen be doing in his lands other than to spy and destroy him further. The thought had him opening his eyes once more, but he did not move from under your touch. “Why, little nightingale, have you come to my lands?” he grumbled softly. The sigh that escaped your lips was a heavenly sound. “I could not stand another minute in that court,” you responded to him continuing your exploration across his fur. He contemplated your words before prodding again, “But why come here of all places?” He watched you consider his question from his position on your lap until you let out a small laugh and said, “It’s the only place where I felt I would be safe.”

Something that had been long asleep in him awoke at your response. Here? Safe? With him? After everything that had happened in the last 53 years under Amarantha’s reign, the war with Hybern, and destruction of his court he could not fathom that anyone in all of Prythian could possibly feel safe here. “These woodlands are not safe, nightingale,” he said. You snorted in response to his implication. “I don’t know, my Lord, I’ve faired quite well this past year. Still all in one piece, see?” You removed your hand from his fur to gesture to your own figure. He immediately missed the feeling of your touch. It took a great deal of restraint not to nuzzle your hand back to its original place on him.

Instead he rose from your lap and stood to his full height, his head barely grazing the top of the cavern ceiling. You rose with him wringing your hands at his size. “You’re not safe here,” he repeated, “come.”

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A command. One that reverberated through you to your very core. You did not hesitate to follow him out of the cave and into a clearing beyond the brush. “Climb up,” he instructed. You paused only a moment until you realized he meant for you to ride atop his back. He lowered himself ever so slightly as you hiked yourself into his massive wolf form. “Hold on, little nightingale,” he commanded once more before beginning a slow trot away from your shared cave.

The trek had been mostly contended silence. The two of you only spoke in question and response when the curiosity became too much.

“Why did you leave home?” he asked.

“I grew wary of the cruelty of home and the misjudgments of my High Lord,” you answered.

“Why have you disappeared for so long?” you asked.

“I am not fit to be a ruler at present,” he responded.

The hike had been a few hours long until you broke from the cover of the forest into an expansive clearing with endless rolling hills. The grasses had overgrown and if you hadn’t been astride on his back your figure would surely disappear into the thickets. He continued his pace as he came upon a behemoth of a building. Its size was dazzling but its condition was ruinous. Vines had almost completely overtaken the walls, creeping into shattered windows. The gardens surrounding the manor were in complete disarray, growing this way and that. He stepped over the overgrowth with his giant paws and took you up a grand staircase leading to two massive wooden doors. Gently he nudged them open with his snout and stepped foot in the place he once called home.

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He didn’t know exactly how long it had been since he had been to the manor. Before this morning he’d had no intentions of returning any time soon. He was not worthy to reside here, not worthy to call himself High Lord. The ruin he had left it in had his ego twisting from embarrassment, but he had to get her to safety. He did not know where the urge had come from, did not understand his draw to this intruder. It had been a long time since he’d had a task, a purpose. While the feeling was still foreign it was anything but unwelcome. He lowered himself once more once the two of you were safely inside and relished once more the feeling of your touch before you slid off his back and onto the marble entryway flooring. Tamlin observed as you marveled at the interior. Your eyes ravenous, soaking up every inch of this new environment. “It’s horrendous, I know,” he spoke lowly, “but you will be safe here. Safer than in those woods by yourself.” You turned your too thin figure toward him and spoke, “It’s marvelous.” He pushed down the small hint of excitement at your words and simply said “You can wash up and change clothes in the third room to the left past the dining room. I will find something to eat for the night.” With that, he turned and stepped outside the manor once more with a new task in his mind.

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You followed his instruction, finding a room that was mostly untouched by claw marks and destruction. Although dust had settled upon almost every surface, it was nice to be sheltered by four walls again. The room you entered was clearly meant for visiting courtiers, with a four poster bed, a generous armoire, a tall looking glass, and connected was a spacious bathing room. The stale air in the room was unfamiliar as you had grown accustomed to fresh air and gentle spring breezes. Your first order of business was to pry open the ornate window across the room. Your second order of business was to strip completely nude and fill the giant tub with enough water to wash a bear. The spout shot out a few violent buckets of water before finally clearing the air from its pipes and finding a steady stream. As the tub filled you nosed into the cabinets to find a few bottles of soap and oils. Sure they were a few years old, but it was better than lakes and creek water. You savored the warmth of your bath as it relaxed tense muscles and lulled you into bliss. It was only when the water grew chilled that you pulled yourself out and searched for any clothing to don before the High Lord returned from his hunt. You’d found little in terms of prudence but the silk nightdress would work for the evening. It had been a long time since you’d thought about such courtly things as how much skin was showing. Growing bored in the chamber waiting for Tamlin you walked into the main hall and began exploring.

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He strode into the manor as silently as he could. Tamlin held the dead deer in his lethal jaws and gently set it on the black and white marble before shifting into his fae form. It felt unfamiliar to stand on two legs instead of four. His shrugged off his discomfort and headed straight for his abandoned quarters to find something to dress in. The last thing he needed was you stumbling upon his naked, dirt covered figure. Tamlin made quick work of putting on bland pants and a light tunic. He didn’t even bother buttoning it completely before making his way to the room he’d directed you towards. He knocked once at your door and heard nothing. He started to call out your name then quickly realized you had not yet given it to him. Knocking once more he paused, listening for a sign of you behind the door. More silence. He pushed open the door and saw that you were not there. After looking in the bathing room to find it empty as well his heart began to quicken. It was happening again. How could he have been such a fool? Of course you wouldn’t want to stay here. Who would? His estate was in complete shambles and he himself was no better. His breathing was erratic, his chest pumping up and down as he began his downward spiral. Then he heard a sound. His head snapped toward the door as he heard a melancholy music coming from elsewhere in the manor. He followed the melody to where he found you sitting in front of the grand pianoforte. The keys were out of tune, but the quiet song was still lovely. He could do nothing but stand and stare in utter shock that not only had you stayed, but you were freshly dressed in Spring Court attire and playing music in his home. He watched as your hands traveled gracefully upon the ivories. The sound of your song was like a breath of life into the tomb of the manor. His state of silent admiration was only interrupted by the end of your song. You let out a content sigh and rose from the bench, turning and meeting his eyes.

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The sight of him. You had not yet known the High Lord of Spring in his fae form. He was utterly gorgeous. Your eyes devoured him as if they were starved. His tunic was unbuttoned and revealed a generous portion of his muscled chest. It was then you remembered the thin nightgown you had thoughtlessly wrapped yourself in. You knew he was fae, but his wolf form had almost made you forget that he was also a male. A beautiful, stunning male. You quickly tore your eyes from him and found a spot on the ground to study as you greeted him, “My Lord.” He let out a breath as if he’d been holding it, “My Lady.” Your eyes flicked up to his at that. A faint smile ghosted his lips and his face was the picture of relief. “I’m sorry if I overstepped, I got bored waiting for your return.” He let out a quiet laugh and took a few steps to approach you. “That’s quite alright, little nightingale, I’m just happy to see that you’re still here.” It was your turn to laugh. What a ridiculous comment! Through a snort you said, “Where else would I go?” His smile grew and he offered you his hand. “Good point. I found us something to eat. Care to join me?” You stepped forward to meet him, his towering figure and scent overwhelming your senses. Yet you took his hand and returned the smile, gazing up at him. “I would love nothing more.”

[dtmsrpfcringe]

the definitive dictionary and almanac of Tinhattery

hi, this will be a list of the main misogynistic accounts, definitions people have questions about, accounts you should follow and abbreviations— let’s gooo!! If you’re tagged in this I probably put you on the accounts to follow section. Adding a cut here because it’s long and gonna get longer

definitions!!!!

LCB- Used to stand for letscoffeebreak, she has since changed her username to dejadestalkearmeloser.

NGO- Nightgoodomens

Ingrav, Amy- Ingravinoveritas.

tardisrose- thetardisisblueandroseistoo

Tinhatters- A group of (mostly) tumblr users who think everything in these two relationships are fake and the women are abusive and the men want to run away.

Queeranoners- same as above, my favourite way to refer to them, coined by the amazing @theeminentlyimpractical

sheenbergs- Mix for Michael and Anna’s name

sheenbergnant- the amalgamation of the four bad bitches we love

sheenant- ship name for David and Michael. (Remember kids: shipping is cool but it’s fictional!!)

DT- David Tennant (Georgias husband)

MS- Michael Sheen (Anna’s boyfriend)

GT- Georgia Tennant

AL- Anna Lundberg

PR- public relations

GM- a…delegitimising way of referring to Georgia by refusing to use her last name. Instead use her maiden name. Note how they don’t refer to David as David McDonald

APAT- usually used by tinhatters (stands for Anna Plain And Tall) to refer to Anna Lundberg

PR (Tinhatter definition) - an omnipresent being forcing two rich white men who constantly champion human rights and lgbtq acceptance into a hetero relationship because they just are so oppressed and abused and not because they love their partners!

PR (actual definition) -the professional activities of an agency hired by a person, company, or other entity to shape, create, and manipulate that person/company’s public image. A public relations firm is often useful in helping a company manage its media reputation when a crisis happens, in order to attempt to minimize false information or slanderous statements which could damage reputations.

Shipping- Shipping (derived from the word relationship) is the desire by followers of a fandom for two or more people, either real-life people or fictional characters (in film, literature, television series, etc.), to be in a romanticrelationship. Shipping often takes the form of unofficial creative works, including fanfictionand fan art.

Shipping (Tinhat definition) - NO THEY HATE THEIR PARTNERS AND WANT TO FUCK EACH OTHER LOOK HE BLINKED IN HIS VICINITY THEIR PARTNERS ARE ABUSIVE I SWEAR

GREATEST HITS (posts that killed Tinhatters, feel free to submit your favourites in my inbox)

The breakdown of an anon

tassel jokes

backstreet cringe

Ingravinoveritas admitting it

Laurens amazing fuck off post that snowballed into half the fandom straight up saying fuck you to these people

HALL OF SHAME (Worst of tinhatters, again feel free to submit more)

• Taraiha’s rivals meltdown

NGO hates this fandom for…calling her out

it’s not a choice to be weird and creepy about people’s lives! (Again shipping is fine. This shit is not!!!)

it’s okay if you attack women just don’t criticise Michael Sheen (no idea what she was talking about with David) this same lady had another absolutely dog shit post I guess she removed?!

How dare women…have fun at their birthday parties?? (Part 1)

for a group constantly sexualizing David and Michaels every movement we can’t stand when a woman shows a little chest and has fun

Accounts you should follow!!!!:

@goodomenswarning - same purpose as this account, hilarious, an amazing friend

@badaziraphaletakes - calls out shitty takes in good omens as well, so much more level headed about toxicity than I am but I love talking shit with them. @thegeorgiatennantblog - best Georgia content

@fightingalgth8rs -bad bitches calling out extreme sexism

@phoen1xr0se - one of the best and I devour everything she posts

@davidtennantgenderenvy stands up for what’s right in the fandom, one of my idols and stuck up for me during a vulnerable time.

lmk more I need to add because I’m definitely missing some

THE REPEAT OFFENDERS (booo 🍅🍅):

Ingravinoveritas- one of the bigger ones, refuses to believe Georgia does anything nice for David, or that any of them actually like their partners. Can’t stop fetishizing gay male relationships to save her life. If David blinks he apparently wants to be bent over. Likes to pretend she’s not as bad as the others but has some of the wildest takes and said she felt threatened and scared for her life at someone making a Shakespearean reference. Professional victim

Nightgoodomens- a particularly nasty motherfucker. So toxic she’s quarantined. Misogynistic, ableist, um…yeah not much to say there except for the fact that apparently anything that David does that involves his wife means he’s forced into it. Would rather see them as abused puppies than accept they love their partners. Heavy on the homophobia and bi erasure since yes, fetishization isn’t allyship, it is homophobia. Everything is PR. She doesn’t know what PR means nor that David and Michael are not nearly important enough to have a 24/7 team controlling all social media and personal aspects of their lives. Neil gaiman apologist who blamed his sexual assault revelations on David’s support of trans people. Denies women flirting with each other and boils it to PR friendships??!?

Dejadestalkearmeloser- pretty much the same as nightgoodimens, flips shit when you call her out on it, I mean look at her pinned post about me and you’ll see. Also apparently I’m every account that doesn’t like her. Seems to have a problem with lesbians not liking her (wonder why lesbians don’t like the misogynistic people who only talk about the lgbtq community when it comes to fetishising mlm relationships)

Thetardisisbluesndroseistoo- flips shit at Georgia getting credit for anything, lost her shit on someone saying that Georgia has educated David on lgbtq allyship (he quite literally said himself that she does) later deleted posts when I called her out. Can’t stop laughing at that

invisibleicewands- really, really creepy about Anna, delving into her past and family to try and find…something. Body shaming. Mom shaming. The usual misogyny.

dtmsrpf- I guess a spoof on my name, belongs to one of the others on this list. The usual misogyny with a particular axe to grind against their looks and other things. Definitely a little salty.

georgiatennantunofficial (instagram)- extremely fucking gross. Body shaming and misogyny. Usual. You guys see a pattern yet?

[quindread]

THE COTTAGECORE MARI AU PROMPT THAT NOBODY ASKED FOR

Pairing: Daminette (edit: they’re like 19/20 in this, post high-school)

Rating: It has mature themes, you have been warned. But it’s pretty tame at the same time. Violence + Sexual Themes

________________

Mari is diagnosed with PTSD and anxiety disorder after she quite literally removed her beloved city’s supervillain (and her dear partner’s parent) from the plane of existence. Like she removes the suffering from the minds of all of Paris and has Gabriel written off in a car accident a year after his wife’s disappearance. Only her Court (Adrien, Kagami, Zoe, Alix, Max) and the Order remembers. Mari and Adrien decide not to pursue a relationship. They’re both healing and are decidedly better off friends - siblings in everything but blood.

Lila, who was not punished due to her not really being a miraculous holder and upsetting the balance, continues to slander Mari. Her class isn’t hostile but has no desire to interact with the “new and mean Marinette” Lila was painting her to be. It’s still a huge betrayal given the fact that Mari was supportive and very generous to these people.

So here’s how her new housing arrangement works: have you ever wondered how Gina can afford to travel around the world without a job? Yeah, I think she came from money. Like, old money - real estate old money to be precise. Passive income and such. Hearing about her Fairy’s situation, she offers an unused property at the countryside of Metropolis.

Marinette’s therapist and parents approve of her vacationing there for the summer when they realize that her stressors and triggers where all environmental. So off our girl goes!

Note: She does not have the mother box with her anymore, just Tikki, Plagg, and Kaalki. (She does have unrestricted access to it as the Grand Guardian though - she trains with the Order once a week in Tibet until she doesn’t)

Mari is aware of the Supers and was relieved that the Kwamis don’t show up in x-ray visions and with the fear of them eavesdropping she learns FSL to communicate with them.

The townhouse and the verdure around the property inspires Mari to start a garden. The quiet oddly soothes her and when she feels lonely she goes into town or the nearby farmer’s market where she charms the locals. She meets the Kents - they love her! Martha enjoys baking with her. Lois uncovers her identity as Jagged and Clara Nightingale’s exclusive (and reclusive) designer - they bond over fashion trends and the gossip surrounding the industry. Clark and Jon were another story.

She figures them out having sensed the same soul in Superman and Superboy in this father-and-son duo. They x-ray her as a precaution and finds the mysterious cracks and evidence of past injuries that should have killed her. There’s a very anti-climatic reveal that Martha and Lois are not privy to with respect to Marinette’s wishes.

At least one Kent would be in her home during the day. The Kwamis are free to roam around when it was Clark and/or Jon visiting. She ends up bonding with Jon who also grew up too fast (metaphorically and literally).

She ends up extending her stay in Metropolis indefinitely. Her parents also decided to open a branch of their patisserie there which Mari managed. They visit her as often as they could.

Mari was dismayed to find that no, Metropolis had no schools with both a fashion and business degree - that’s how she ends up in Gotham University.

Jon tells Mari about a Damian - a friend of his.

J: He’s…. uh… he has a big heart.

M: …

J: He’s a bit of an asshole(?)

M: Ah.

Mari meets Damian who reminds her of Kagami - antisocial and proper. They share a few business classes and are both members of the art club.

Mari is still this ball of anxiousness and has only allowed Mia “Maps” Mizoguchi and Katherine Karlo into her life, the former she learned was close to Damian - she didn’t mind when she and the girls met up with Damian, he was quiet, honest, and minded his own business. Through their hangouts Damian finds out about the friendship between Jon and Mari.

He’s hesitant to befriend her at first due to the conflicting rumors about her: due to her timid personality she had a split reputation. One side called her sweet, shy, and kind. While the other calling her arrogant, high-maintenance, and rude. He soon finds out that the latter half were spread by cliques who’s offer of friendship she declined and men she rejected. He was glad that he relented to Maps’ insistent invitations - she was a decent person to hang out with and it didn’t hurt that she was pleasing to the eye. (She also enjoyed sharing her vegetarian salads with him - he starts appreciating it more when he learns that she picks the vegetables straight from the garden she grows.)

As her luck would have it, a robbery unfolds at one of their favorite coffee spots. Mari and Damian - who were both pretending to be civ - try to find a way to protect their friends. The robbers recognizes Damian as a Wayne and takes him and another GU(a school for rich and affluent people’s children) kid - Marinette - who had stood in front of her friends.

They’re gagged, blindfolded, and carted off to who knows where. Damian discreetly activates a distress signal and the bats spur into action. Mari, aware that she was sturdier than Damian, draws the men’s attention to her (she purposely pisses them off and gets beaten up when they start to pester Damian).

M: [removes her gag somehow] Really? A ski mask? And in black? How boring can you get?

*Damian shaking his head furiously in the background*

Kidnapper(KN): Shut up, girlie!

M: You know I always wondered how Kidnappers could have a secret a warehouse as a hideout. It’s not like you can afford the rent—

KN: Are you trying to get yourself killed?

M: You’re backed up by some politician aren’t you?

KN: H-How the fuck did this bitch know?

M: There’s literally a stack of campaign papers behind you.

KN: Wha—

M: That’s some shit graphic design by the way. I’ve seen grade schoolers that can do better.

KN: [points a gun at her] Shut up or I’ll blow your brains out.

M: You wouldn’t.

KN: The fuck do you know—

M: You need me alive to get ransom from my parents.

KN: …Nobody said you had to be in one piece though.

M: Touché—[get slapped hard]

*Damian basically starts convulsing in the background*

M: …Damn. You punch like a cunt—[And the kidnappers basically start to rough her up]

The bats arrive in five minutes and it’s Red Hood that finds them first. He sees these mf’s beating up a woman and goes ballistic(pun intended). Red Robin and Spoiler has to forcibly restrain him when he starts to use his fist instead of his guns.

M: [bleeding and bruised] And that’s how you deck someone, you amateurs.

D: [who was released by Black Bat is confused, mad at himself, and in awe] You blithering idiot! Why the fuck would you aggravate our captors like that?

M: [delirious] It was either you or me Damian. Can’t have your pretty face damaged now, can we?

D: [Is floored and very concerned] And what of yours?

M: … dun worry—my assets are…elsewhere… [passes out from the pain]

D: …

Later, his family would tease him about the flirting when he isn’t all sensitive about the incident.

Winter break comes, most of the Batfam visits the Kents(they have a penthouse/some ridiculous property in Metropolis) as a tradition. The Kents went to visit Gotham and stayed at the manor last year.

(Batfam who went: Bruce, Dick, Jason, Steph, Cass, and Damian)

They visit Mari too. Dick and Steph are absolutely thrilled about her cottagecore lifestyle. So much so that they match her aesthetic and begin helping out in the garden - they send pictures to Alfred who request they bring back fresh produce.

Jon and Jason plot to get Damian and Mari together. Unbeknownst to them that Damian was already resolute on courting Mari like the decorous man that he was - he didn’t know what he was doing but Mari’s flush when he initiates flirting tells him he’s doing okay.

Because of his childhood, Damian was never the type to be touchy but imagine his shock when he finds out that one of his more prominent love languages was physical touch. He realizes he’s touch-starved almost immediately when Mari starts giving him small touches like a hand against his bicep, she had a fondness for touching his hair which never failed to deliver a shiver down his spine, and hugs from her are comforting - she felt like home.

Meanwhile Mari does not have any idea how she survived the early stages of Damian’s advances. He was blunt and did not pull his words with insults but it apparently translated to him being verbally open with his affections.

M: I always wanted to be the Knitting Fairy while growing up.

D: Does it not please you that you became a garden fairy instead?

M: Huh, that doesn’t sound so bad.

D: Well, you certainly look the part.

M: [turns into the same shade as the poppy beside her]

And then when the tension between them became more prominent he wasn’t shy with dropping innuendos too.

M: [open’s the door for Damian, haggard from lifting sacks of garden soil] Oh, I didn’t know you were coming so early. I’m a bit of a mess. Sorry.

D: [Tilts his head] You say that as if I wouldn’t appreciate you sweaty and tousled after a rigorous activity.

M: [self-combusts]

And when the touching began?

M: Damian, what color do you think looks better with this shade of blue?

D: [places a hand on her side while looking over her shoulder] I think the a more neutral cream would do.

M: [stops functioning]

Their first kiss?

Pulled straight out of a book that Marinette only read in the privacy of her bedroom.

They’re teasing each other, it evolves to a game of cat and mouse with Damian skillfully evading her. She corners him by turning on some of her sprinkles. He gets wet, growls in the way he would in Mari’s dreams, and pulls of his shirt. She’s too distracted by the hard planes of his stomach to notice him prowling towards her like a beast moving to claim his prey. He picks her off the ground with ease - he’s a foot taller than her - and takes her to the sprinklers.

(I’m going to write this part out properly, maybe to inspire myself or a potential adopter of this prompt)

“Nononono!” Marinette shrieks as the first round of water splashes her. She writhes but Damian had her arms held down her sides.

“All is fair in love and war, Ya Amar.” She ignores the endearment in favor of closing her eyes as the sprinkles rotate in their direction again. But she knows what it means. Ya Amar. My moon. His moon. The water had nothing on the chill that ran down her spine

The water stars seeping into her intimates and she’s soberly aware that the light fabric of her dress would betray her. It doesn’t take long for Damian to discover that fact, he releases a strangle sound. She opens her eyes, he snaps his eyes from where he was clearly looking at her chest. He scrambles to drop her.

“Shit— I’m sorry. This was not my intention—“ he starts but she’s faster. Her now free arms grasps his shoulders and without a second thought, she drops her lips to meet his. Damian inhales sharply and he tilts his head, temporarily breaking the kiss before raising her higher and pulling her by the back of neck - he kisses her with hunger and passion that has Marinette melting further against his chest.

She wraps her legs around his back and he moves to tightly grasp both the back of her thighs. She would worry about bruises later when she didn’t have Damian’s tongue caressing her own. He drops them to the ground and Marinette does not release her hold over his waist. She whines against his lips when she feels the consequences of their activity.

His hands start wandering as he greedily collects and files the sounds that leaves her lips. He begins to trail kisses down her neck to the neckline of her dress that now clung to her body like a second skin giving him his first peek at the maddening shape of her body. And just when he trails a finger against the underside of her breast a loud noise pulls them apart.

Jason finds them and the sight in Mari’s garden has him dropping the shovel he was asked to bring over.

J: Fuck! No, don’t stop! Hell—I’ll leave—I didn’t see shit!

D: [moving to cover Marinette who covered her face in embarrassment] Fuck off, Todd!

J: I’m sorry! [slams the door shot]

D: Tt.

J: [shouts from inside the house] Use protection!

D: Todd!

They started officially dating that day and Jason had no reservations in sharing that he definitely cockblocked his little brother much to Mari and Damian’s horror.

Both keeps the PDA to minimum in school but it was very clear how amorous they where in “private”. There is a table in the art hall that Mari can’t quite look at without blushing to her roots.

She finds out he’s Robin after her first encounter with his alter-ego. He confesses his past when she confronts him. There’s fear of abandonment in his eyes when he gazes at her after his spiel but she kisses his worries and doubts away. She even goes to show her appreciation for his years of service to Gotham.

Her reveal happens when she unceremoniously drops a vial in Jason’s hand claiming that it would remedy the effects of the Lazarus pits with continuous use - it was completed after a year in the making.

Cardinal joins the Batfam occasionally as part of Batman’s contingency plans. They respect her choice as a retired super-soldier and try to keep her out of the business which she appreciates. She is officially initiated as a member of Justice League Dark as an informant/magic specialist and a wildcard.

Years later, she legally inherits the property from Gina when she and Damian get engaged. Damian moves in with her and she lives her cottage life all while being a reclusive designer that comes out once in a while for fashion week.

FIN

AN:

Maybe there’s a Lila take down somewhere but I don’t have the energy to write her at all. We all know its Damian and Tim that makes sure she never sets a foot in high society ever again.

Ig add some details about learning to healthily cope with her anxiety disorder under the guidance and love of her found family? (I have a similar illness but me and my therapist are still figuring it out so I have little idea how to write this) Her PTSD does not need further discussion (miss ma’am had to kill someone) but her anxiety disorder stems from the fact the she’s a person who’s in charge of world-ending powers - everyone and even yourself can become untrustworthy. She starts to get nervous from misreading body languages and everyone is suddenly out to get her.

[katyspersonal]

Hi there, I hope you don’t mind the random question but in your mind which fanbase would you say is worse, Elden Ring or Bloodborne in terms of annoying fans. I used to think Bloodborne fans could be bad but holy shit ER fans are something else when it comes to lore discussions. As someone who is pretty active in lore talk with both games do you find one side to be more exhausting to deal with than the other? Obviously feel free not to answer this if you think it might start drama

Honestly? I can't hate Bloodborne fandom enough.

Bloodborne was my first Fromsoft game and one keeping me hostage in terms of fixation for over three years, like I said! And yes, it has incredibly bad, toxic people in it - Maria fans who kept slandering Gehrman despite all the info against their takes, honestly believed there is anything problematic with Gehrmaria, had mental breakdown if anyone dared to see Maria as bi or straight despite her not having canon sexuality, believed that the whole story is either about man bad woman good OR was incredibly misogynist, no between. Close minded, toxic people who would deliberately bait anger and pain with placing their hate in the tags and then play victims when those hurt fans snapped back. Oh, I hate them, and revealing that Gehrman's "creepiness" and "misogyny" was completely and fully translation mistake, as well as pointing out how comes why nothing is wrong with how Doll is dressed with facts, is forever my most valid contribution to the fandom. More so than my ugly childlike fanart or convoluted theories could ever be. But, not THIS is why Bloodborne fandom is worse in my opinion.

Elden Ring fandom introduced not one but SEVERAL annoying and exhausting topics to deal with! I "affectionately" titled especially rabid Malenia and Miquella fans 'Twin Cultists' because this is exactly what their behavior is and have always been! Funny enough, a person who got mad at me for this one was someone who got alienated on Discord server for Miquella fans because owners started to insist that only their headcanons are valid AND admitted to me on feeling unsafe for not shipping Finlenia. I am dead serious! Malenia fans are strikingly similar to Maria pseudofeminist fans in toxicity, Miquella fans are like if you removed all likeable traits of Leda and replaced them with even MORE of undying vitriol for anyone who dares to interpret him as anything but perfect pure radiant sunshine. Mohg triggered a pretty awful discourse between those who insisted he was rapist molester whatever and if you interpret it differently you are insensitive and media-illiterate victimblamer and people who defended him "becoming the very thing they sworn to destroy" as well as also exhibiting cult-like thought control in their circles (they know who they are -_-).

But the DLC has changed things a bit, right? Some Twin Cultists are still spilling vitriol, except now they also claim that writers are bad, not only fans that disagree with them! Still, blessed, deserved vindication finally arrived! But what about others, whose situation never changed? Vitriol towards Godrick is ABSURD. You know how common fandoms L is that they judge and hate female character for something, but when male character did the exact same thing it is humored or justified? Godrick is this, minus the gender difference, yet everyone who points out his actual characteristics and the hypocrisy of his haters gets ridiculed. You thought that his fans would flock together to support each others? No, turns out that pocket are loosers who think people who don't headcanon him as trans are childish and ridiculous and loathe cishet Elden Ring fans in general. Fia and D are caught in the weird discourse loop where one is always simplified and idealized and another is demonized to Hell and beyond, when they both are strongly caught in religious brainwashing of sorts but also are sympathetic in their own right. Ranni's fans and haters both do not know the term of Machiavellian (aka "Ends justify the means" philosophy). She is the worst most evil character in the setting over what crimes she committed in order to protect the world from the problem of potentially anyone being able to grab the laws of nature itself and shape them according to their bigotries and preferences, OR she is a perfect innocent fighter against oppression and people who dislike her Just Hate Women TM. And of course we cannot forget the one above them all! The radiant, omnipresent, eternal!...

Marika truly brings out the worst of discussions! She has been before SOTE, but you YEARN for pre-SOTE times if you hate OR love her! Not because things changed, but because now discussion can't be avoided. She is THE Elden Ring character who is only ever demonized and idealized. Before SOTE, she was only ever just a tyrant who loves genocide OR simply a puppet of Greater Will (or rather Two Fingers claiming to speak for it as it turned out) who never meant to do that shit and finally heroically rebelled. After SOTE... hahaha, oh boy... we started to deal with the issue of excusing genocide. Her fans will claim into essays and more essays why Hornsent are all fundamentally dangerous race and Marika is merely trying to rid the world of filth that ruins it by sending Messmer. However, demonization didn't quite go away either, and her haters are so angry at writers humanizing her a bit more that they say WRITERS are pro-fascist!

So, why? I've described such horrid discourse, when Bloodborne fandom sounds like it simply has a few bad apples in comparison! What can be worse than Elden Ring fandom, after a description like this? Yeah, you see... Elden Ring fandom is thorn by awful arguments and discourse, it is hostile and dangerous for your mental health if you are invested into fandom beyond just "consuming content" and advertising your art for sale. Yet, it lives. It lives in the same sense as a land torn by earthquakes lives. It lives in the same sense a volcano that won't stop smoking lives. It lives in the same sense sea lives during the storm. But it LIVES.

Bloodborne fandom is a fucking Caelid.

If you question whether I'd be scared of "drama", I assume you are new here and don't know my epic lore. I am not afraid of anything because society made itself clear on what I am for it. In the most condenced way possible, one OF those toxic Maria fans didn't like me thinking for myself too much so they went out of their way to slander me for various -ists and -phobias. Their ableist friend that doesn't take racism seriously joined in. I was a victim of stalking, harassment, slander, witch-hunting and cult-like shunning for over a year, and so was every kind fool who treated me like a human - friend or mutual. I can NOT speak of Bloodborne fandom experience from personal standpoint because obviously it is not an objective experience (though someone who also got unfairly slandered by Maria fans too contacted me, so I question whether it IS a trend..?). Still, it isn't about me or my friends, we are an oddity. Bloodborne fandom for me was just a bunch of gullible, weak sheep who are okay with witch-hunt because letting just a few people get harassed is not worth souring their fandom experience. And I do not wish to turn back or even try to mend anything. I caught my stalker and exposed their crimes, I made everyone who believed they were innocent feel stupid and ashamed, it was all I wanted. I don't wish to "befriend" the fandom afterwards.

YEAH YEAH "THINGS ONCE BROKEN" WHATEVER

But I was still posting and drawing and playing and talking and writing, right? I was still present. So, I was at least observing what was going on. And what truly soured Bloodborne fandom was actually happening afterwards, what was not involving me or any friend or enemy I knew. The worst thing happened, worse for fandom than any amount of discourse. I call it "centralization", for lack of better term.

Bloodborne is a niche fandom, yet it had a sudden zoomers burst. And that led to dynamics of "fandom leaders", and stupid fucking Discord community that are akin to elite club in which if you are not invited you might as well not exist. It ALL became about stupid "web of mutuals" nonsense. It ALL became about some cool kids deciding what will be the ship or the take of the week/month, and soon you'd see NOTHING but this thing posted. Always through the exact same lense, too. Only to then be forgotten, because it was just a trend. Rom x Caryll comes to mind as a FAD of similar vibe. Micolaurence too.

I just hate this. The fandom stopped LIVING. I saw genuinely absurd things happen! Like someone drawing Mariadeline, one of the most popular ships in the fandom, yet they get completely ignored because they've failed to grab a beer at the bar with "leaders" of this ship who "hold" the distribution of that approval and love. Even worse; over a year ago, a very talented, fun, energetic and creative fan of Mensis Trio and Byrgenwerth squad showed up! They were SPAMMING art and writing, and all of that was good! So good that..... all of that barely got over 20 notes, maybe 30. Why? Because, again, you can't just post about blorbos and expect to be liked and approached. You have to get on the "good side" of "holders" of love for characters like Micolash, Laurence and Rom, or else they'll just side-eye you! But imagine this with literally everything else. I have been watching it happen all the time, to people that were not even targets for cult-like shunning by Alfred, Eugene or Anna for associating with me. You keep to yourself, you are shy, you are not on Discord with them, your headcanons are a bit different? Too bad, you may rot, because it is not about you! People look up to a few popular artists with shallow takes and so much creative liberties they might as well make OCs to know whether this or that person should be liked and reblogged, instead of JUST liking and reblogging them!

THIS is why Bloodborne fandom is Caelid. Not for toxicity, but because it is rotten. It used to be far less "organized" when I joined in. There were no trends to define fandomry for next few weeks decided on a party where ignored creators were not invited to. There was not hegemony of certain ships, designs and headcanons. There was no "web of mutuals" and pressure to either assert yourself by the good side or vanish. Everyone were doing their things and coexisting, nobody could determine who flourishes and who rots, diversity of headcanons and interpretations were celebrated. Oh, what's a matter? You really dislike that popular artist who infantilizes Marika and stripes her out of any agency over her actions? Well, so do like 500000 other people! Every popular take is ALSO popular to hate on in Elden Ring fandom! But if you dislike a popular take in Bloodborne then sucks to be you, because diversity of interpretations, opinions, preferences and takes just doesn't exist in it. Not anymore. Unless you "asserted" your novel idea to the "court" on some stupid Discord server and was "approved", of course.

Look. Elden Ring discourse annoys me to no end. I always get my headcanons and interpretations "corrected" in the worst condescending fashion. My friend posted a very well made lore post and got harped on because his take contradicted someone's idol's headcanons (with that idol approving of that harping) and I am still mad. I don't want to post my GEQ takes to be reminded that "aktualy" she is Melina. I dislike seeing claims of Miquella's nonexistent character assassination or Radahn hated just because some sexist Redditors were using him as a mascot. Nonetheless, deep down, I am THANKFUL. Because even really annoying debates end up being entertaining. Because people here TALK about things, REVISIT things, ARGUE about things, CARE about things, HAVE OPINIONS on things. They will annoy you in the comments or reblogs, but they SPEAK to you. No take is so popular that it defines all art and fanfics because every popular take is also popular to hate on. Things are disorganized. No fandom leaders, no elite club ignored blog wasn't invited to, no "web of mutuals" that should get sucked into a vacuum cleaner and never be seen again. Elden Ring fandom is a battlefield, but also free market minus the money.

To be honest, Bloodborne fandom was done for me when based people started to vanish. Fishbowlcarnage deactivated everywhere, Cuddlefish mysteriously disappeared and I worry whether they are even alive to this day, user Molluscock got bullied away... It felt like a bad omen, it happened before my drama, and I've never seen users like this before. Except I have been, but they all are now ignored because of this stupid high school dynamic taking over. Had Elden Ring hyperfixation not happened, I'd probably just end up blocking many Bloodborne accounts and never care for trying to make connections again, just post art and vanish to draw the next one. I did end up blocking some Bloodborne mutuals, after all. After it hit me, what was bothering me so much. Appreciate Elden Ring fandom and it's earthquakes, because shaking earth can't be bigger evil than stagnation. Bloodborne fandom no longer breathes, they are champions of not feeding the sparkles that were meant to become fire hoping they die down, and I hate every looser that benefits from that "system". In Elden Ring, ALL things flourish, whether graceful or malign.

[mickeyswhore]

Condescending

Summary: Mickey is your boyfriend and he realises something about you and takes full advantage of it.

Mickey Altieri x Reader

Warnings: dumbification, Mickey is VERY patronising here, Clueless slander (I'm so sorry), just overall smut ig, overuse of the word bunny, let me know if I forgot anything else

Want me to make a Tag List? Here!

GIF by @coppoladelrey

Mickey loves to talk down at you, no matter what the subject is. But his favourite one is films,

he loves to talk about how your tastes in films is too common and how you need to learn more about it. You pretend that is simply a joke every time he does it, but the thing is that 

you know he isn’t and the worst part it? You love it, you love every single insult he throws at you and it makes you wet just thinking about it.

You loved Clueless, so you wanted to watch it tonight. You and Mickey are currently in his dorm room by yourselves, Derek went on a date with Sidney. Mickey had a serious problem in picking apart your taste in films and he wasn’t subtle about it, it came to a point where you hid your favourite films from him and only watching his “classic” films.

“Come on, bunny. This film is incredibly subpar, Paul Rudd was alright but other than just a convoluted plot that is kinda creepy.” Mickey still didn't let you put the tape on, he grabbed it from your hands and was keeping it away from you. “Underage girl that falls in love with her older step brother? You should know better than that, I can’t handle this. It’s kinda stupid coming from you.” He had his free hand on your thigh and he was looking at you with his head tilted forward, a low key Kubrick stare.

“I just want a good feel film that is pretty, alright?” You took a deep breath and looked at him, Mickey had huge grin on his face.

“Of course you do, you need to turn off your brain don’t you? Thinking is too hard for you, isn’t bunny? You need me to make all of the decisions for you, right?” Suddenly Mickey was behind you and he was pulling your dress and he pulled your panties to the side and he felt how wet you were. “You love when I talk to you like this, right? You love when I think for you, right bunny?” You nodded and Mickey laughed. “Oh, bunny you’re so fucking wet.” He inserted a finger in your cunt and you moaned putting your head on his shoulder, you opened your legs even further.

“Look at you, you can’t even reply to me. I only need my fingers to fuck you dumb, imagine how dumb I’m gonna make you after I pound your tight little pussy with my big fat cock.” He whishpered in your ear and you whimpered. “Oh, bunny.” He laughed condescendingly, and added a second finger and his thumb started making circles on your clit, you started moaning even loude, you tried to close your legs but Mickey didn't allow that. “Come on, bunny…you can take it.” His other arm grabbed your leg and kept it open, he picked up the rhythm and fingered you even harder.

Mickey could feel you clenching around his fingers, he looked at the mirror that Derek had on the dorm and he had full view of your cunt. “Come on bunny, cum all over my fingers.” The noises were so loud and as if it was on cue, you came hard. Mickey helped you ride out your orgasm, he slowly removed his fingers and put them on his mouth. “So tasty, bunny.” He hummed, after that he got on his knees and you felt his tongue on your clit and you moaned.

“Mickey, please…too much.” You groaned but he didn't stop, he kept eating you out and your hands went straight to his hair and Mickey pulled you closer with his arms around your hips, he was feasting on your pussy.

“You can take it, bunny. Cum on my tongue for me.” His ministrations were quick and he was watching you fall apart, your back was arching, your breath was shallow and Mickey was loving every second of it. He grazed your clit with his teeth and that made you jump but Mickey kept you in place. “You look so cute like this, bunny. Completely on my mercy, you look so fucking hot.” 

Your pussy was clenching over nothing, and you could tell that another orgasm was approaching. You were pulling Mickey’s hair and he groans, he loves when you do that. You came again, and Mickey didn't waste any time and started slurping on your pussy and he never stops looking at you, while you can’t keep eye contact. After riding out your orgasm again, Mickey gets up and you see his huge cock hard on his trousers, it looked like it hurt.

“Can I suck your cock, Mickey? Please?” Your mouth was watering looking at the outline of his cock, and Mickey laughed.

“You’re so cock drunk, aren’t you bunny? Come here.” He started removing his trousers and his cock sprung free and you quickly put his cock in your mouth and Mickey loved to see you so desperate for his cock. “Just like that, bunny.” You hollowed your cheeks and started sucking his cock, Mickey started groaning, your mouth felt like heaven, he held your hair in a makeshift ponytail and he started fucking your throat. 

Tears were started falling and Mickey wiped it with his thumb, you could feel yourself getting wetter by the second. “Keep your eyes on me, bunny.” You readily obey and kept your eyes on him, he looked so hot with his mouth in an o shape and messy hair. Mickey threw his head back and started fucking your throat in with a reckless abandon again. “Fuck, bunny your mouth feels like heaven. FUCK.” Mickey felt that he was going to cum, and he only cums deep inside your pussy so he pulled your head away from his cock, as soon as you lost contact with his cock you started pouting and Mickey laughed.

“Sorry, bunny but you know that I only cum on your tight little pussy.” Mickey pulled you and started kissing you. “I want you on all fours, bunny.” You quickly got on your hands and knees, Mickey slapped your ass and you moaned at the sensation.

He rubbed the head of his cock on your clit before thrusting inside your cunt and you screamed and moaned, his cock always streched you out no matter how many times Mickey fucked you it always streched you out so well. Mickey grabbed your hips and started fucking you hard, you grabbed the sheets and bit your lip and he saw that and did not like it. “Don’t you dare hide those noises from me, bunny.” A needy whine and moan escaped you and Mickey growled, his thrusts were getting faster, he grabbed your hair pulled you closer, your back touching his chest.

“Look at how dumb you get when I’m fucking you, bunny.” Mickey pointed at the mirror and you saw how disheveled you looked with your mouth open panting and moaning. “I know how much you love being my dumb slut, bunny.” You whined at his words and you clenched around his cock. “See, I can feel your tight little pussy clenching around me. You always think too much, bunny. And I love fucking you stupid, you need it, you crave it don’t you bunny?” You whined again and nodded your head, unable you speak and Mickey loved every second of it.

“Need to cum, Mickey.” He knew exactly what that meant, but he loved to see how desperate you to cum.

“You want me to play with your little clit, bunny?” You nodded desperately, Mickey’s thrusts never faltered and it was too much but at the same time not enough. “I know you’re gonna cum all over my cock as soon as I start playing with you little clit.” Mickey started rubbing hard circles on your clit and watched you scream and moan through the mirror.

“Mickey.” You screamed and started squeezing his cock cumming all over it, Mickey’s hand went on your throat, not squeezing it but as a sign of ownership. After he helped you ride out your orgasm, Mickey started chasing his own, you choked on your own throat and you were starting to get exhausted.

“Bunny, look at you…you were made to be mine, you were made to be fucked. You’re too dumb to think on your own, you don’t need to think about anything, you just need my cock slipping you open.” You felt his thrusts getting sloppier and he was grunting and moaning.

You felt the thick ropes of cum inside you, that’s when Mickey stopped and you felt his cock pulsating inside you still. He finally disconnected from you and Mickey grabbed some wet wipes and started wiping the cum off of you, you hissed at the cold wipes on your abused pussy but after a moment it felt good.

“Are you alright, bunny?” Mickey your head and looked at you with nothing but devotion and love in his eyes.

“Yeah.” You nodded smiling at him and he kissed you, it was slow and passionate unlike a few moments before.

“Aren’t you such a good girl?” You got hot over the praise and you hid on his chest, you were starting to get tired so you yawned and Mickey knew that you gone for the night. 

“I love you so much, Mickey.” You confessed already closing your eyes.

“I love you too, bunny. I’ll be here when you wake up.” He kissed your forehead again and sleep overtook you quickly.

After a few minutes, Mickey got up from his bed and started to get ready. He got his mask and voice modulator ready, it wouldn’t take too long he only needed to kill one person tonight and it was on campus. Whilst Mickey got ready, he observed you sleeping and he wasn’t ready to fall in love with you but you took him by surprise by warming your way into his heart.

Mickey was going to talk with Mrs. Loomis, he doesn’t want to get caught anymore, he wants a life with you. And after finishing killing he went straight to his dorm and you were still sleeping peacefully, and he didn't break his promise, he was there when you woke up.

[proxylynn]

[In 1987, Litwak's Family Fun Center and Arcade on Route 83 got a new game... "Danger Dan, the Action Man!" This was a knockoff of "The Adventures of Bayou Billy" but with some tweaks to make it its own thing.

The plot: Daniel Storm, otherwise known as Danger Dan, has been boasting of his exploits and bravado much to his girl-friend's, Lynn, annoyance. A rouge gang, in retaliation for hearing Dan trash-talking them, kidnaps Lynsie in order to lure Dan into putting his money where his mouth is. Dan's quest to save Lynsie consists of ten stages that take him across the country, as he battles thugs and eventually arrives at the gang's HQ to come face-to-face with the big boss himself.

A normal by-the-book "rescue the damsel" type game which was the standard in that era and one that wasn't too hard to either. Which, for a time, kept it fairly popular with kids as the ease of difficulty made it less frustrating when GAME OVERs happened. But by the 1990s, older kids started to turn away from such games. Rescue the Girl games were seen as lame, and when the character lore didn't match, it made things worse.

"Lynsie "Lynn" is Dan's partner and crush. A soft-spoken brawler with a heart of gold; she met Dan rather awkwardly...Saving him when he was ganged up on after running his mouth to a group of bikers. Taking pity on him and thinking his smugness was kind of endearing, she acts as the peacekeeper to Dan's pride so he isn't beaten to a pulp daily."

This made no sense to players considering the game had her waiting at the end of every stage, in a room, by herself, and merely taken away again when Dan reached the end. She was built up to be strong but the game made her helpless, used like bait dangled to keep Dan going as if she was a reward.

By 1993, "Danger Dan, the Action Man!" was unplugged and removed from the arcade after the game had softlocked in a state that even resetting couldn't fix. To the people of the arcade, it was sad to see one of the older games go. But the reality was way sadder than any would know.]

[In the game was a different story. Lore and programming clashed as Lynsie and Dan were the opposite of what the game implied. They weren't friends, that died after the first year the game was plugged in. Hell, Dan resented Lynsie, the idea that she was stronger than him but he had to save her pissed him off. Lynsie hated her situation, feeling helpless as her program made her timid and prone to being easily intimidated. Something Dan would take advantage of to keep her under control and in the game while he would go out to socialize.

Things only got worse when the players started making comments about the inconsistency and making criticizing remarks. This only made Dan more abusive and degrading to Lynsie. But there's only so much pressure a mind can take before snapping. After hearing another snarky player complain about how she was bad for just letting herself be taken then followed by Dan reinforcing how she was pathetic and only good for just standing around, she broke. She broke free of her program and of the level, running from Dan while the player could only question what was going on till the screen froze when she hit Dan into objects he couldn't interact with during gameplay.

Once in Game Central Station, she was lost and sought help, but none would go near her. In the years of her isolation, Dan had made a good reputation for himself with the other games and painted her poorly. That and, she was in the dark about an incident that happened shortly before her game was brought in. So when she tried to tell her side, she'd be shot down for either slandering Dan or for "going Turbo".

Homeless and now in a strange place with people who don't trust her, she isolated herself to avoid persecution, delving deep into places not frequented. It was there in the bowels of Game Central Station that she would be found by another in a similar state as her... Turbo. At first, his plan was to gain her trust and use her as a disposable tool, something to make his own situation a little better till he could find something better. But as the years went by, that idea changed. She changed. She grew bitter that the others dismissed her without bothering to understand her side. So when Turbo offered her a chance to take part in his plans, she took it.

Out of her game, her forced submissive program was gone and her true strength came out. She didn't back down to him when he got snippy and called him out when it was clear he was doing/did something wrong. Yet when it came to hearing him out about what happened with RoadBlasters she, to his surprise, didn't think less of him. Sure, she ragged on him for doing something so impulsive and reckless, that was a given, but that's it. And when she opened up about what happened to her he genuinely felt sympathy, and coming from him that was something. He came to respect her.

One day in 1997, the news spread of a new racing game coming to the arcade. This was the moment Turbo was waiting for, the reason he had been learning a thing or two about coding from the missions he'd been sending her out on to gather information. So while other games were busy with their own worlds, the moment that "Sugar Rush" was plugged in, the pair immediately sneaked into the game and took it over before any players had a chance to play it. This was a chance to start over. To reinvent themselves. To have lives they can be happy with. Turbo, with his love of importance and pride, became King Candy, the top racer and monarch of the kingdom. Lynsie, wanting to be useful but avoiding player attention, became Lindell Coco, the royal maid and secret enforcer of the King.

And it worked. With everyone's memories locked up, the pair were just normal parts of the game. No more hiding. No more lurking in the shadows. No more feeling empty and disconnected. They had a game to call home. This was THEIR game. And all it took was to ruin the life of a little princess whose home they now occupied as theirs.

Sure hope nothing bad happens.]

{Once again, I created a self-insert with a fucked up history. Why do I do this to versions of myself?! *sigh* For Lynn's design; I wanted to go for strong but approachably warm. She's sweet but miserable, masking her pain with a smile. With Lin; I took some aspects of my original concept, the redesign sketch from my friend @cdream25, and the uncanniness of Victorian porcelain maid dolls. She is almost eerily nice, sugarcoating her actions while being snarky and cold when pushed.

I like the idea of her being protective Turbo/King Candy and harboring feelings for him but is uncertain if the feelings are real or not, unsure if what she feels is just due to being with him for so long or if he coded her this way when they implemented themselves into the game. Like, Turbo found her and saw vulnerability, using their isolation and familiarity to mold her into making him her prerogative. Considering he reprogrammed Sugar Rush to all connect to him, it would be so like him to do so with her too. So it's an internal turmoil.

Speaking of which, she is connected to him in the code (represented by the candy wrapper bow), so when he glitches out as he does in the movie she does too. I kinda envision this leading to her having a fight with Calhoun when her true identity is revealed, because, why not have two powerful women fight? Double boss fight, that's why! I haven't settled on how her fate goes, whether she dies or not, but that's not important to me at the moment. I hope to thoughts that have read this far that you like this wacky gal of mine.}

{For a bonus, the raw pics of them so you can see all the details.}

[the-garbanzo-annex-jr]

The American appeasement of Iran has left many people mystified. They should have been paying more attention.

Twelve days before the October 7 pogrom, Jay Solomon reported on the Semafor site that Ariane Tabatabai, chief of staff to the Assistant Secretary of Defence for Special Operations and Low Intensity Conflict, was part of an “Iran Experts Initiative” created by senior Iranian foreign ministry officials to bolster Tehran’s position on global security issues, particularly its nuclear programme. 

In other words, Tabatabai was an agent of influence for Iran, at the heart of the US government and with the highest level of security clearance.

Semafor and the Iranian opposition group Iran International had obtained a large cache of Iranian government correspondence and emails. These revealed that in 2021 Robert Malley, who was the point man on Iran under both the Obama and Biden administrations until he was removed in June 2023 following a still unexplained “mishandling of classified materials,” had infiltrated Tabatabai into the US State Department to assist him in his negotiations with Iran. 

The day Solomon’s article appeared, 31 US Senators wrote to the Defence Secretary, Lloyd Austin, to express their concern. They wrote: “We find it unconscionable that a senior department official would continue to hold a sensitive position despite her alleged participation in an Iranian government information operation”.  

They noted that in March 2021, shortly after Tabatabai was appointed senior adviser to the undersecretary of state for arms control and international security, Iranian dissidents had reported her long history of echoing the Iranian regime’s talking points.

Indeed, that month Adam Kredo reported in the Washington Free Beacon on these dissidents’ shock at Tabatabai’s appointment. They claimed she had parroted the regime’s position in multiple public appearances, and that her father was part of Iranian President Hassan Rouhani’s inner circle.

In April 2021, several House members requested a review of Tabatabai’s security clearance. In response, the Biden administration dismissed these claims as “smears and slander”.

Even more astonishingly, Tabatabai runs the office overseeing hostage negotiations. Three weeks after the October 7 pogrom, a reporter asked the White House spokesman, John Kirby, whether it was appropriate for Tabatabai to be in such a position given the claims made against her.  Kirby stalled. Tabatabai is still there. 

Online, several commentators (including myself) wrote about this. The mainstream media studiously ignored it.

In the past few days, they’ve ignored another vital revelation. 

[ghostietea]

I think some people need to get it through their skulls that settler colonialism is an inherently genocidal system. Calling for an end to the violence but not a return of Indigenous land is simply a call for the genocide to continue in a quieter and more polite fashion.

I don't think a lot of people realize that the genocide of Indigenous people worldwide living under settler colonialism is ONGOING. You CANNOT truly see the end of a colonial genocide without an end to the colonialism. As long as Indigenous people are alive, colonizers will find a way to justify and deny genocide because the foundation of 'their' country necessitates the removal and subjugation of the Indigenous population. Indigenous survival is an act of rebellion, one you MUST believe in. You cannot give up on Indigenous people or believe that they are gone, no matter how hard colonizers try to wipe them out. You cannot trust the slander colonizers will spew about how they had to do what they did, about how Indigenous people are all savages who are coming for their women and children, or are somehow unworthy of their country. You can't trust colonizers' fearmongering about how a return of Indigenous land will result in the expulsion and death of all settlers. You CAN'T believe colonizers when they say what they're doing isn't genocide.

The playbook of settler colonialism is old, barely updated because the forces of greed and racism inherent to it have yet to be properly deconstructed. I'm seeing the same tactics used in the genocide of my people that started hundreds of years ago being broadcast live to the world and some people are STILL going along with it. Time and time again people like to 'forget' that it is plainly and explicitly to the benefit of colonizers to dehumanize the colonized so they can steal what is rightfully theirs without opposition and then lie about what they did. As long as the colonial system remains, colonizers have motivation to destroy the Indigenous population physically and culturally, they'll just get less obvious about it. Call this what it is and DON'T be satisfied until the land is returned to its rightful stewards. Palestine MUST be free, you either support decolonization or you support genocide 🇵🇸

[mrabubu]

what happened between you and Dork? (WS) I don’t want to pry at all, but iv just been genuinely curious and also confused as to why the art all got removed and seemingly for "hateful comments?" If you don’t feel comfortable enough answering that’s totally fine, but man some context would be super helpful.

Uuuuh, okay this part is just me venting a bit...

Yeah, I get that people would like some context,

I'm just still nervous/scared? For how people interpret words.

And I've already been told (because they blocked me so I can't see for myself) dork promised that if people start to "slander" them, they will "drop receipts", despite our dialogue being kinda personal thing, I guess. So I'm just trying not to trigger/provoke them, and just trying to distance my thoughts from all this, but at the same time it's hard considering that WS had a big inspiration/mental help/influence on me and it became kinda my routine for almost half a year to read new chapters, follow other updates and do stuff, and now I can't, not only because I'm tossed out of their blog, but also because

Well

It hurts? After all that situation.

The situation:

We had a dialogue during which expressed different opinions on a certain topic. For them it was enough to wanting to stop associating and communicate with me. So I decided if they don't want to associate with me, then, please, take down my art. At least, it's logical. If you don't want to have anything to do with a person then you'd like to clean your work space from any reminders of them. And just in case, so no one would thought I forced dork to remove drawings they payed for, I drew those for free. Just because I wanted. It wasn't about the money.

Plus with their reaction and the "hateful comments" notes (though I don't know what was hateful about asking to take down my art. I don't believe I was rude or anything), I wanted my fanart to be gone too, because I don't want them to be taken for granted and promote work of someone who wants nothing to do with me.

I'm not encouraging any more association, just leave it be. Right now I'm just trying to distract myself.

Thanks for understanding.

[34saveme34]

ep 2 Crashing Down and Building Up

ayy here it is!!!!! I think I like this one more than the previous, hope yall will too

words like 6.4k if I remember right, we getting silly

The silence between them wouldn’t last forever though.

“I’m pretty sure I wanted to do groceries today” 4 spoke out loud.

Trey was about to ask what could stop him in that but stopped himself as he quickly remembered.

“Well, I guess we could go together, while we try to figure this out”

“I… hate that”

“Like I wanna hang out with you! But I kind of don’t want to separate while we’re like this. Besides, who knows what ELSE could happen if we do, you’ve gotta think it through, dumbass”

4 was quiet for a while. Trey looked at him tense, expecting any kind of answer out of him.

“Sometimes shit can’t be comfortable and you’ve gotta get used to it, man” Trey added.

4 sighed.

“Wish it didn’t need to be that way but… you’re right”

Trey wordlessly went to his roommate’s closet. Looking at the clothing he realised they’re the same size. He didn’t know why he’d take note of that but whatever. He chose whatever he found most presentable from there, although 4’s stuff was really plain. It did make him think about how much more stylish his transformed outfit was. He chose not to think too hard about it. He didn’t need to. Meanwhile 4 was too lost in his thoughts to notice his roommate was dressing up a few meters away from him. Or he was just really strongly zoning out, scared of seeing any weird reaction. Regardless it did surprise him to see Trey dressed up.

While he didn’t have much trouble dressing up, 4 seemed to be frozen about it.

“Thought you wanted to go?” Trey questioned him.

“Yeah! It’s just- it’s… um… awkward to…” 4 couldn’t hide that this flustered him.

“What? Afraid to see the nude form of another man? What are you, a baby?”

“Sheesh dude just… I’m not… give me a moment to figure it out”

“I’m not dressing you up”

“I DIDN’T ASK YOU TO??”

Trey laughed at the reaction.

“Just messing with you. Just grab some stuff, go to the bathroom and somehow make it through. I’m not THAT ugly, am I?”

“...No- okay, I’ll try,,” that was a belated reaction. Was 4 considering calling him ugly? Well regardless, 4 clumsily grabbed some stuff while trying to keep it together, his face was so red, Trey found it hilarious. 

As soon as 4 was gone, he went back to his laptop, opening it up again.

“Oh!” a distraught voice came from the laptop “Thought I’d be trapped in darkness forever”

“I’ll consider that”

“HUH NOOOOO ANYTHING BUT THAT-”

“Anything? Well… what does SMG4 have on his pendrive then? He’s not here right now and I won’t snitch” Trey grinned with evil intent.

“You think you can bribe me??”

“I guess you must really like being in the dark and…. lonely, right?”

“I-I” Puzzles wasn’t sure what to say “... you’re awful, I hope you know”

“Sure, now tell me about it”

“Well- it’s… sound effects, meme sounds and videos…. but he has it all encrypted so his collection is like… cooler. You would USUALLY use this kind of encryption for more serious things, like the core file”

“core file?”

“The CTMGC file. Yours has one too”

“Oh, it’s a core file, huh? What does it actually stand for?”

“4 and I have been trying to figure it out. We’re sure it’s a core file based on its behaviour though. Once he tried to remove it and I- I well… I think I got to experience what true hell is”

“That true hell sure sounds intriguing” 

“Oh, cut that out! It’s like you WANT to see me suffer! But yes, it was awful, like being ripped from reality”

“I mean, it’s amusing but it’s not like I want it. I’ll forget about that as soon as your idiot comes out finally dressed… why is this fucker taking so long to dress up? Ugh”

“Don’t be so harsh on him!” Puzzles looked like they were about to cry, hopefully because of the slander 4 was receiving and not something else!

“You know trying to prohibit me from that won’t actually work. You know, I have free will and all and I’ll call him a loser whether you like it or not”

“Ah… I guess so”

Trey was left feeling a bit weird over Puzzles’s sudden loss of excitement. It was actually starting to feel a bit awkward. Ugh, did he really feel bad for some lines of code a bit too sentient?

“Since when can computer programs feel sad?”

“I’m NOT just a computer program. There’s… there’s more to me”

“Yeah? Like?”

“I-” they seemed to panic “I don’t have any obligation to show you”

“Damn. I guess you don’t actually wanna look good in front of me!”

“I don’t! I really don’t. What reason do I have to look good in front of someone as rude as you? What reason do I have to look good in front of someone who doesn’t like my friend? What reason do I REALLY have to prove anything to you if knowing what I’ve seen it won’t bring any positive effects? Whaaat, am I supposed to seek your approval, ay? Am I?”

Trey looked at him wide eyed. Trying to ignore how the words made him feel, he thought through how to word his next sentences.

“Alright, let me reword it. Think about it logically. I’m a fellow uh.. super hero? Whatever the hell we’re… supposed to be. I’m the closest thing you have to getting to know more about what we are. Wouldn’t it help you figure out more if you tried to trust me at least a little bit? Like a business relationship”

“Hm” Puzzles had an unreadable expression, something unusual for him.

“What do you say?”

“Turn on 4’s pc. No need to move the USB”

“Oookay?” he did as he was told.

“Now. Watch” Puzzles said as he disappeared from his laptop and appeared on 4’s monitor instead. 

Trey gasped.

“Huh! How’d you do that?”

“It’s a part of the things I can do. As I said, I’m anything but an ordinary computer program. Although I can’t deny 4 did help but I was able do to this without him too”

“Mhmm”

“You know it surprises me you don’t have such a thing on your own USB”

“I mean… I never really thought to try anything like that with it. I don’t… really know if it has anything special like that”

“I guess we can help you with that. As- business partners or whatever you said”

“Sure, yeah, I’m fine with that” Trey chuckled.

And then 4 finally came out from the bathroom, with a nervous yet hardly readable expression.

“You ready to go?”

“Why is my PC on..?”

“I just showed him one of my tricks. No need to panic, all of your meme collections are still safe”

“Alright” 4 breathed a weirdly heavy sigh of relief “I guess I’m good to go then! We’ll be back as soon as possible, Puzzles! You already know how you can occupy yourself”

“Yeeaaaah” 

They grabbed what they needed and left, locking the door behind them.

“You really left him with instructions like a child”

“I just know how he can get… so I wanted to show that I care”

Trey just walked along, not sure how to reply. Show that he cares? Huh.

“...So, what were you going to buy anyways?”

“Just food for the next week. I’m rather picky”

“Ah, I see”

“What are you so inquisitive for?” 4 teased him.

Now that caught Trey off guard.

“Don’t get the wrong idea, you’re still a loser. I just… Ugh, I don’t know, I don’t feel like making the situation harder.”

“That’s loaded coming from you”

“Okaaaay. Whateverrr, shut the fuck up”

4 chuckled. Ah, weird as hell. That wasn’t exactly a positive interaction with Trey yet he continued on with a small smile on his face. Maybe things had been so negative with him that a slightly less negative interaction felt positive.

Just as they were about to get to a bus stop with the lead of 4 since he was the one who knew where he liked to shop, the bus left right before they could get on.

“Damn it!” Trey exclaimed “I don’t even know how often this bus comes”

“Every… 10 minutes or so” 4 said after a bit of thinking.

“Great.”

They stood there, silent for a bit. 4 didn’t hate the quiet but something in him wanted to break it.

“So… what did you talk about with Puzzles?”

“Well, we talked for quite a bit because of your slow ass”

“Spare me from your dumb remarks”

“Never. Anyways, we were just talking about business. Hero business. He told me about the whole core file thing”

“Oh yeah, yours has one too”

“Yeah, he made the same observation too. Although I don’t personally have a weirdo assistant installed on my USB”

“Awww, are you jealous?”

“No! Ugh, maybe a bit, I don’t know if there’s anything special to mine”

“Hmm…” he eyed the USB on his neck, considering it was his roommate’s “Maybe when we get over this I can look at it?”

“Sure, whatever”

“I mean if you don’t want me to!”

“I wouldn’t be against it”

“Mhmm”

“You think there’s others out there too?”

“Who knows”

“Fair enough I guess”

It felt weird that they were talking. This was never supposed to happen. 

“Hey wait…”

“What?”

“Doesn’t your name mean 3?”

“It… does”

“Did… your parents also have different plans to name you?”

“A…Also? But… How’d you know?”

“Cuz I was the same way. It’s why I’m SMG4 now… it feels fitting”

“I… do relate actually”

“This is… weirdly comforting”

“Oh, keep your sappiness to yourself, what does SMG mean anyways?”

“Heck, if I know… I did name my channel that way. There it stands for Super Mario Glitchy- considering it’s a Mario animation channel”

“You animate?”

“I- Yeah, but it consists of other stuff too”

“Like editing… Yeah, I get it. Although I moreso edited music. Used to”

“Oh, is this you opening up about your music?”

“No, but I’ll admit I was indeed in a band for a while. It was fun until it wasn’t”

Just then, the bus arrived.

“Oh, finally” Trey exclaimed. 

They got on, settling down, 4 took a second until deciding to sit next to Trey. Something felt right about this. Or maybe they both just wanted it to feel right so badly. This was like a nightmare, 4 was wondering if maybe he was starting to somewhat enjoy this over how miserable he had been. They didn’t really talk until they reached the destination.

“Get up, we’re here now”

“Ah” Trey seemed out of it for a second but quickly followed 4.

They walked to the supermarket then went inside. Trey was so out of it while 4 routinely grabbed the things he’d want.

“You want anything?” 4 asked Trey.

“Oh! Uhm…”

“Dude, what the hell” 4 quickly covered his mouth “Heck… I mean heck”

Trey looked at him amused.

“Heh… Am I starting to affect you?”

“Your disgusting energies are hard to avoid”

“Why of course! Anyways, maybe, let me look around”

“You weren’t looking until now?”

“No not really… this whole situation had been making me think a lot”

“Uh huh”

“Like… eh, it doesn’t matter”

“I get it”

4 answered maybe a bit too kindly, it just sent Trey to a different place. Guilt was one hell of a mood killer. 

“Not trying to mock me?”

“I should?”

“Ugh…no? Yeah? I don’t know”

“Jeez, you REALLY have been thinking hard” 4 chuckled “No worries, you’ll get all your quiet time after this”

“Quiet time?”

“Like… relaxing time. I won’t bother you is what I’m saying.”

Trey didn’t reply as he instead focused on shopping. He picked out a few ingredients to prepare throughout the week. Although he wasn’t a lover of cooking he wasn’t the worst at it. He had to learn sadly.

They both paid for their stuff separately then left the building.

“So with that done, I guess we can just go back now” 4 said.

“Uh huh, sure”

“You’re… quite low energy”

“And?”

4 felt tense.

“And what?”

“Exactly. Mind your own business”

“Well, you should see where that got me when I did just that!” 4 broke finally. It had been on his mind “I’m almost sure this whole ordeal happened because we were doing just exactly that!”

“And I wish we could go back to that so I could finally find a different roommate that is nothing like you!”

“Oh, is that how you feel??”

“How else would I feel??”

“I was actually starting to like you!!”

“You-.. You’re kidding?”

“No, what the- no??”

“Are you like, trying to trick this shitty curse or something?”

“Is it so hard to believe that maybe I can put aside childish pettiness for once and start to consider you more than an oxygen stealer??? And you can’t”

“I… you have no right to talk like that to me”

“Oh, you’re now more than childish! Are you trying to insinuate I’m below you or something?”

“What is it with both your stupid ass assistant and you having such bitter words, what the fuck- I just wanted to have a CALM weekend, damn it!”

“You…” 4 clearly looked hurt. Then, loudness. A loud crash. It was so strong they fell over, clambering to protect their groceries. Looking to the source, they saw what looked like a spaceship.

“What… the…” Trey stared on “No fucking way, I’m checking it out” 

“WHAT???” 4 could only run after him, yelling “THIS COULD BE DANGEROUS!!”

“What, did you pussy out?”

“THIS IS A- DANG SPACE SHIP???”

“Come on, some danger is healthy, or was talking to me too much?”

“Yes”

“Well, I’m going to check it out anyways”

4 followed him reluctantly because he didn’t want anything bad to happen to his body. He would like it back at some point.

The closer Trey got, the more he heard what sounded like a distorted feminine voice. 

He got closer and with the dust dissipating enough, he saw the source of the noise. Somehow a TV sort of contraption fell out of the ship which looked to be in rough shape.

“Hello..?”

The sound stopped.

4 finally caught up.

“Why are you like this?”

“Doesn’t matter, I’ve got a feeling about this”

Trey walked closer, reaching out at the TV, he saw the face of a pink haired woman flicker.

“Oh shit! That’s.. crazy”

“What did you see?”

“Some pink haired girl?”

“So… is it aliens or what? Time travel? Oh, dear, I don’t know what would be worse or better!” 4 panicked, thinking about possibilities so maybe he could feel better. Or not. Hard to tell with how he seemingly looked worried either way.

“Shut up” Trey said weirdly calmly while trudging ahead. It puzzled 4 how calm Trey seemed. He followed behind them, although not too closely. He wanted to be cautious, and not just because this whole situation was feeling dangerous. He wondered if there were even right words for him to say…

Trey entered through what was a mostly destroyed entrance of the ship. Or at least it was an entrance now, that could be said. There was chatter inside. Trey saw what he swore to be the 2 biggest eyes he’d ever seen. He wasn’t sure if it was some kind of weird monkey with no ears or… probably something not of this realm. He was scared but he went along anyway. It eluded 4 how he could go on. Then again, he didn’t know him too well just yet. Didn’t know being fearless would be something 3 could be. Err, Trey, although 3 fitted him just as well. 4 didn’t know how he could feel about it, especially considering that that would imply they’d be matching and Trey already seemed so adamant about not having anything to do with him. In some ways it hurt. In others, he wished that those ways didn’t hurt because part of him believed this didn’t worth it at all. Like fighting a battle that was bound to have no good outcome for him. No matter how hard he tried.

Trey finally found himself staring at those pair of eyes he swore he saw, now staring back at him. A screen flickered on in the background with that same girl he saw before, which took his attention away from those pair of eyes.

“You” he pointed at her. His heart was loud in his ears but he wanted nothing else but that. 

“Hmph” she responded “What? Never saw a girl with pink hair? Do you ever step outside?”

4 chuckled at the exchange which drew attention to him.

“Oh no, it’s not that, I just got a feeling about this is all. Not human, are you?” Trey said.

“I see what you mean” 4 said.

She seemed surprised.

“There’s a lot of girls on screen from where I’m from” she smirked “Are you perhaps a prejudiced asshole?”

“Some may call me that”

“I try not to be personally” 4 said.

“Mhmm, yeah, I totally believe that” she chuckled and raised her hands “You 2 are as nice as I am trapped” she showed off the black shackles with a distinct green shine which clearly weren’t holding her down. 

“You know, lot of snark for someone who just crash landed” Trey added.

“Oh, I’m fine but the 2… other passengers seem a bit more shaken up haha” 

4 raised an eyebrow while Trey moved on to look around.

“Other 2, huh?”

“You also seem quite calm for someone who just entered a ship”

“Oh I’m filled with adrenaline. I love it” 

At least 4 had an answer now to one of his many impossible questions. 

4 bare all this quietly though. He didn’t know what to say at this point. What was he supposed to say anyways? Whatever he said would be bad anyways. Just all wrong. So there was just no reason for him to speak. 

Though his thoughts would be disrupted as he heard noise behind which sounded like walking, albeit quiet. As if someone was trying to sneak behind him.

As he looked, he found himself looking down at what… looked like a literal square headed alien.

“We come in peace!” they said with their hands up.

“Mostly” a squeakier voice spoke up, the source of which jumped on Trey’s back.

“Hey, don’t do that!” Trey tried to shake off the little guy but had no success with that. He sighed, reaching acceptance. 

“I don’t come in peace, I don’t care personally” the pink haired woman spoke again.

“Saiko! 2! Enough with that! We didn’t come here to mess around for no reason!”

“Daaaamn” the yellow, sphere headed little guy jumped off from Trey’s back now known as 2. 

“I know I know, world ending and all that. Don’t care but I get it” the computerised woman, now known as Saiko, said.

“The world ending?” 4 asked.

“Yes. We came looking for help. Because we got intel that there’s other guardians on this planet” the square headed said.

“Guardians? Of what?” Trey questioned.

“Memes? Don’t you have any around? I was pretty sure you humans would have a ton of them” 2 spoke up, a little confused “aw man, did I get duped in my research?”

4 looked like something connected in his mind.

“OH DAMN IT, MEME GUARDIAN CORE” he shouted then immediately got embarrassed as everyone stared at him. Trey chuckled.

“Nerd”

“Oh, you 2 perhaps know the guardians then?” the square one asked.

“Uh- we are. We are them actually” Trey said “Although-”

“Great! I’m SMG1 and this here is SMG2! I hope we can receive the help we need-”

“Noooot quite right now” 4 said awkwardly”

The 2 guardians stared at the other 2.

“We… switched bodies” 4 explained “We don’t know how it happened, we just woke up like this!”

“...Oh my god…” 1 looked like he lost hope there.

“I knew something felt wrong! Although I never had anything like this happen with 1. Do you 2… get along?”

Both Trey and 4 proceeded to avert 2’s gaze.

“Dear god…” 2 joined 1 in losing hope.

“If you guys had enough of chit chatting” Saiko interrupted “I can see through the cameras  outside that people are gathering outside to check out our ship. We need to move”

“Got it” 1 and 2 replied in unison, transforming into their guardian forms in sync. They had harmony Trey and 4 didn’t come even just close to rivaling. 

And they worked in harmony as 1 picked up 4 and 2 picked up Trey. While Saiko chose a different way of following along, a way our 2 rookie guardians weren’t aware of.

They were taken to a big empty lot by 1 and 2. There were no other humans in sight as far as the eye could see. Just a road that had cars pass every once in a while and a weathered billboard.

“Well, now that we got away from the unwanted attention” 1 said, putting down 4 “We can finally discuss what the cosmic forces did to you”

“We don’t know how it happened!!” 4 whined.

Trey stayed silent.

“Well, do you 2 get along?” 2 asked again with a more accusatory tone.

“What do you fucking think?” Trey said “I’d rather be anywhere else but those stupid cosmic forces thought we had to get along for some damn reason”

“So…” 1 thought for a bit “These forces, they have a way of stopping something awful from happening at the right moment”

“I just wanted to switch rooms, man” Trey whined.

“So what you’re saying is we have to get along” 4 stated, some annoyance already slipping through his tone.

“Exactly”

“WELL, if somebody else here was also WILLING to at least TRY maybe we wouldn’t be in this right now!!”

“Yeah? Am I the one who would close off to an unhealthy extent? I started conversations way more than you did because all you ever did was be obsessed with your internet fame and your weirdo computer assistant. Do you EVEN have anything else in your life?”

“Oh, look who’s talking, taking me as an awful guy at first sight and constantly making fun of me! To my face, to other people, you probably make fun of me in your dreams I wouldn’t be surprised!”

“Like you GAVE me a reason to be nice to you! Your vibes are rancid, you have no fashion sense and n-”

“MY vibes rancid?? Mine?? Really?? If I’m rancid than you’re a compost dump”

“YOU have NO class!”

“IF class is liking you then I want NONE of it”

“Oh my god, presidential warning, the girls are fighting!” Saiko’s voice came booming through the wind. As they all looked from where, she waved back at them from the billboard, with a smile showing she was rather amused with the show Trey and 4 put on.

“Oh, don’t mind me, keep fighting” she added.

This caught them so off guard they actually stopped fighting.

“Thank you, Saiko” 1 sighed “You 2 need to work this out”

“Let’s play therapist” 2 said, sitting down on the ground “We’ve even got space to sit”

“No way!” Trey and 4 replied at the same time.

“Look at you 2 already agreeing on something!” 1 said sarcastically.

“So! Tell us how you 2 met!” 2 said.

“Ugh, fine” Trey said before 4 could open his mouth “we met because we became roommates. Nothing much else to it. I wanted to move to another room anyways because I hate his presence, ugh”

“We’re also in the same classes but I wouldn’t expect you to remember that, Trey”

“Oh, I know very well, don’t worry about that”

“Okay, scratch that! When did you 2 learn about each other’s identities?”

“When we woke up today” Trey sighed.

“But…” 4 added “We actually met as guardians way earlier… at least then he wasn’t so mean”

“Cuz I didn’t know”

“I wasn’t a different person”

“You just- you weren’t… ugh. Nevermind”

“No no, finish that thought” 1 added “Hiding secrets isn’t possible when you’re a guardian”

“DAMN IT” 3 sighed really loudly “It’s because of the attitude! You didn’t immediately close off!”

“Huh…” 4 thought for a bit “I mean, was I..uhm… I was closed off?”

“Yep”

“You could’ve said that earlier”

“And lose dignity over it? And not like I didn’t hint at it”

“Was you bullying me supposed to be one of those hints?”

“I wasn’t bullying you, I was just being critical”

“CRITICAL??”

“I MESSED UP OKAY?? ARE YOU HAPPY??? I’m- I’M not good with this kind of stuff!”

“We all noticed!” Saiko added happily “You’re both dumbasses. You fit together”

“A match made in hell one could say” 1 sighed,  2 giggled.

“Quit pairing us up!” 4 protested.

“Yeah, I don’t want to work with  him anymore!”

“Did you 2 genuinely not share a single good moment? Not even a half of a moment?” 1 sighed again, he was truly having the unluckiest of days.

Both shut up again. Thinking. Pondering.

“Well…” 4 started “Even if I did have some, does it mean anything anymore?”

“I-” Trey had so much to say “I don’t know, should it?”

4 was caught off guard, staring at Trey. Trey grew quickly flustered over that.

“Don’t give me that look, damn it, I guess I didn’t say anything! I take it back!”

“And how does that make you feel, 4?” 2 tried to keep the conversation on track. 1 whispered something to 2 and he only seemed to nod in return.

“I… I don’t know? It’s hard to really define what I’m feeling…”

“Don’t think too hard about it” Trey wanted to dismiss this so badly.

“I think he should actually” 2 said “you can’t defy cosmic connections”

“Because when you do…Bad things happen” 1 said rather ominously.

“Haah…….. It….. It makes me feel hopeful” 4 admitted, staring at the ground. He didn’t even fully understand what he was feeling. He just knew he wanted more out of this.

“You’re…..” Trey was trying to think of ways to say what he really means “Too nice”

4 looked at him so confused.

“Jeez just say you don’t hate him, don’t make it so dramatic!!” Saiko sighed, annoyed at the sight of these 2 struggling for no good reason, at least in her eyes.

“I-. I guess” Trey admitted.

“Are you willing to give me another chance then?”

“Are you?” 2 words that conveyed so much. Not only did it show that Trey cared, and that he was also feeling guilty about this but that he was absolutely cool with giving 4 another chance.

“I- of course. Don’t make me regret it though. You’ll never hear the end of it”

Trey chuckled.

“Right back at you”

A few seconds passed.

“So, can we go back to talking about the deadly villain coming to destroy the whole world?”

“WAIT WHAT??” Trey and 4 expressed bafflement at the same time.

“Well that’s why we came here, number 3 and 4, to ask for help”

“We even lost…. to this guy….. we can’t beat this guy alone. So that’s why we came for help” 2 seemed to remember something. He clearly looked upset but he still sort of tried to keep an upbeat yet frustrated tone. 

“Sure um but…. it would definitely help if we weren’t STILL fucking swapped, you know? It’d be awful great”

“I do agree actually” 4 said.

1 sighed another big one. 4 for some reason felt self conscious about disappointing him, even though he didn’t know shit about this guy! Why was he like this?

“I’m afraid you’re correct. Try transforming, it probably won’t work”

They both tried and it wouldn’t work. 

“Just as I guessed…” 1 spoke again “Which means we need to get you 2 to swap back”

“But what else? They seemingly made up” Saiko asked.

“Well, there’s one thing but… ehehe” 2 giggled.

“Oh you mean… oh my, no way” 1 giggled too.

“Spit it out” Trey was not having it.

“You 2 gotta hold hands” 1 said, finally stopping the giggling.

“Huh?” Trey wasn’t sure how to feel.

“Is… Is that it?” 4 said “Well, worth of a try”

4 grabbed Trey’s hand, gently at that.  Almost like he didn’t want to disturb Trey. The hand holding equivalent of walking on eggshells. Trey had enough of that, squeezing 4’s hand.

Then a flash of light.

And the world looked different yet the same.

Now they were looking at each other from the right bodies. Although they didn’t let go of each other’s hands yet.

“Congrats! One step closer to cosmic unity” 1 said.

“Cosmic unity?” 4 asked, he was so interested while the phrase made Trey let go of 4’s hand.

“Indeed. You’ll know it when you see it.” 2 said “I hope we’ll see you 2 reach it before we have to face the rogue guardian”

“So… to be cliche, we have quite the road ahead of us” 4 said.

“Cringe” Trey chuckled “But I hope we’ll make it through”

4 was shocked by those words.

“Sure hope too”

As they all stood around a bit awkwardly, while there was something on Trey’s mind as he longingly looked into the distance, who knows what he could’ve been thinking. Something small, something big, something he’d regret or maybe praise himself forever for thinking that way, you’d never know unless you’d ask him. But it was thoughts that were clearly plaguing him in some way.

And a moment too late, a meme appeared, larger than what they usually would have to deal with. And it also looked unrecognisable. It was monstrous, with rage filling its eyes, sharp claws and a body that looked unstable, everchanging yet in such an upsetting way, it was hard to look at. It was like a red mess of an omen as it glided across the 4 guardians and landed not too far from them with a large thud.

“Jesus…” Trey said, looking up.

“Well, I- um, no idea what meme THAT is” 4 panicked. 

“Hey, this is their chance!” 1 said to 2 “We’ve gotta let them prove themselves”

“True! You’re on your own”

“Better make a great show!” Saiko said, as she disappeared from the billboard. Who knows where she went.

Trey and 4 exchanged glances, Trey smiling small but sure, something that gave 4 hope.

“Let’s do this” 4 said, finally feeling alive after what felt like an eternity, quickly transforming, with Trey following quickly after him.

1 and 2 watched them, fighting well but still inexperienced. This was more than what they had done before.

Trey shot at the thing but it barely did anything. He panicked. 4 went to land a hit with his sword but he almost bounced back with how tough the skin of the meme was.

“Uh oh…” 4 looked clearly panicked.

“C’mon, dude, we can’t give up!”

“R-Right!”

4 went to slash again, harder but this time he actually fell back, landing on his back.

Trey only noticed 4 falling after he shot. As soon as he noticed he was surprised to see 4 wasn’t right back to his feet as he’d usually be, he quickly jumped down beside him.

“Yo, what’s up, we can’t just-” Trey would speak further but seeing how distraught 4 was put a deep wound in his soul. Something about it felt wrong, like it shouldn’t be like this.

“I… I don’t know- how we can defeat it… I… never felt so weak…”

Trey looked away.

“I- Dude… look. Whether you like it or not… we’re a team. So, get up”

But 4’s panic persisted, he felt like he was doomed. Trey sighed… he didn’t really want to do this but he had no other choice.

“Alright” Trey grabbed 4 by the shoulders and stood him up “This ends here, alright? I bet you’ve been through so much, shit like this shouldn’t bring you down”

“I actually lead a rather peaceful life”

Trey looked at him like he was stupid.

“What?” 4 continued “Don’t have much going on besides this”

Trey looked at him like he was the king of dumbasses.

Just then.

From the corner of his eye. He saw. But it was too fast. The beast of a meme slashed at them, making them fly across the field they were in. 

It felt like as time stopped as 4 clung onto Trey, and as if they were in the air longer than they actually were. And it was a rough fall too, both bruised over it. Luckily only bruised as their magic protected them but it could only do so to a certain extent. And this meme was really pushing it.

Trey gathered strength to sit up. Although it was hard not just because of the injuries but because of 4 holding onto him.

“It… sure is stronger than I thought…” Trey said, looking back, seeing the meme slowly closing in on them, almost teasingly, as if it was playing with them. Playing with the prey until ending them for good.

4 was silent. Trey was starting to feel really bad.

“Look, I don’t know what to do either. Nothing we do seems to work”

Then it hit 4.

“Nothing either of us does seems to work actually!”

Trey tilted his head.

“That’s what I said, dumbass”

“No no… we’ve… I’ve got a feeling. We have to work together” 4 got up quickly, with seemingly new energy in him. He might’ve been bruised himself but he got spirit that Trey was jealous of.

“Haven’t… we been doing that?”

“No! Closer!”

“Closer how?” 

“Well… trust me”

Trey was unsure first but complied.

“Get up and aim at it with your gun”

“But that-”

“Trust me” 4 was so stern.

“Alright but… how is it any different from what I’ve been doing?”

“That WE’re going to do it” 4 said, putting his hands over Trey’s, which caused him to be rather close to Trey. Trey wasn’t exactly flustered but after today, it felt just a tinge bit strange. 4 was too busy thinking about how this could work. His hands felt so sure on Trey’s, in great contrast to what he did before. He wasn’t afraid to disappoint anymore, he was fully believing this could work. The face he also made, more than hopeful. And it was rather contagious. 

He concentrated. His gun felt a bit weird, almost feeling hard to hold but 4’s hold on him was keeping them stable.

Just as the meme would’ve reached into a distance where it could swipe them away again, the gun fired, a large bullet leaving it as it expanded to a crazy degree, with such a perfect combination of blue and purple. It was a beautiful sight.

Would’ve been for Trey and 4 as well if they weren’t knocked out from it, because as the power dissipated that was the sight that greeted 1 and 2. 

“I’m surprised, I'll say. I didn’t expect them to actually do it” 1 said, as he started walking towards the 2. 2 followed closely behind.

“Yeah… I guess they’re just like this… were we like this too?” 2 wondered.

1 chuckled, pulling 2 into a half hug while still walking.

“Well, I sure hope not”

2 nuzzled into 1’s neck to be a little annoying.

“Aww but you know it would’ve worth it regardless, you’d miss me if I wasn’t with you!!”

“Oh shush… Let’s… get these 2 to safety”

Just as he said that, a car pulled up behind them.

Looking behind them, they saw there was no driver inside. The cars doors flung open, inviting them to get inside.

“Ah, right! Our ride” 1 clapped his hands together.

“Yeah, let’s grab these 2 then”

They all got inside, the car actually looked quite modern, with a screen inside. An all too familiar pink haired woman showed up on it.

“Nice ride, isn’t it?” she boasted.

“How’d you get it?” 1 asked sceptically.

“That doesn’t matter, just give me directions so we can go”

~

4 woke up, feeling like everything was hurting. It was weird how he was in his own bed. The sun was way down at this point, it was actually quite hard to see in his room. Being in his bed the way he was, he would’ve believed he dreamed all that but the aching he had going on was enough to disprove that.

He got up, although it was painful. He took his sweet time getting to the bathroom. He washed his face, especially because there was some dry blood on there. It wasn’t too much luckily but it was enough to be annoying. He started patching himself up from a kit he brought. He would need it from time to time anyways so he was glad he had one when he was beaten this badly. He took a while patching himself up, making sure to disinfect worse wounds. He knew it wasn’t fun to suffer the consequences of not doing that.

As he got up to leave he came face to face with Trey.

“Oh, you’re awake too?”

“Yeah” Trey sighed “That was so tiring…”

4 took a closer look at him.

“You look awful. Better get those wounds treated…”

“Don’t really have stuff like that with me s-”

4 already grabbed his own kit. 

“That wasn’t a suggestion”

Trey chuckled.

“Christ, you’re weird but alright”

Trey took getting treated rather well. It was soothing in a way, making him silent. 4  thought this kind of peace looked great on Trey’s face.

“You know…” 4 said “I wanted to ask something”

“...Yeah?”

“Do you still want to change rooms?”

“No, no reason to anymore”

4 smiled about that. Maybe a bit too much.

“That got you so happy, didn’t it?” Trey took the chance to tease 4. It did indeed fluster him.

“And- And I’ve no shame about it! Okay??” 4 said nervously but then ended up laughing at himself.

“Well, there’s also something else I’ve been thinking about…Especially… after we met these other 2”

“Mhm?” 

“So they’re SMG1 and SMG2 right? And you’re… so I… you know”

“If you want to”

“Kind of… ever since you mentioned it with the names, it’s been on my mind”

“AH!” 4 yelped, seemingly out of nowhere.

“What, fuck?” 3 wasn’t even sure how to react. That was so sudden and unexplainable.

“THE DAMN GROCERIES”

[missandrisky]

Apology to Feminists

As prideful as I may be I am capable of admitting when I am wrong and I shall do so. I presumptuously conflated feminism (specifically radical feminism) with Female separatism on the basis that both of them hinge on the call for “radical re-ordering of society in which male supremacy is eliminated in all social and economic contexts” as in order for Females to truly be allowed to separate from our oppressors our oppressors must not hold power over us in said contexts. What I did not realize was that no branch of feminism extends to ALL Females (including the ‘deplorable’ and ‘disgusting’ ones who engage in sex work) not even radical feminism. To be a Female is to have to perform to expectations whether they are from males or your fellow Women; and if you just so happen to ‘perform for men’ whether you sell your actual body, pornography or just hate speech you are just as vile as the men. Whether you must engage in the system that oppresses you for survival or not your means do not justify the end if they are not virtuous and completely free of hypocrisy.

The vitriol I have received from butthurt narcissist moids and self-righteous feminists alike (who both hate my content) has led to me having a much needed breakthrough. I am NOT a feminist, I am a Female separatist/liberationist. I simultaneously call for the removal of males from power (dismantling of patriarchy) while fighting for Women to found our own spaces AND not judging the ways in which women navigate the patriarchy (which includes sex workers) regardless of its appropriateness or hypocrisy. My use of feminist tags was more so for networking than actually representing any specific movement and I should have made that more clear. Moving forward (beginning from this post) I will not be using the tags on any post that is also directed at the moid audience I collect funds from as well. I will also be creating a separate blog where I post most of my feminist-adjacent posts and describe my community projects (currently fighting the city for a Female-only shelter).

So, I apologize for the following things:

- conflating radical feminism with Female separatism/liberation

- using feminist tags on posts that my moid cucks also see/engage with

- not making it more clear that I do not see myself as a typical representation of radical feminism

That all being said I would also like to issue a sincere FUCK YOU to all the miserable imbeciles that refuse to do an ounce of actual investigation or interact with myself personally before engaging in actual slander. You make Women look just as ignorant as males while you accuse me of being one simply because I don’t fit your monolith.

XOXO,

Miss 💋

[iristial]

The KingOhgers are all connected through marriage and spiritual family ties -> late night thoughts of an imaginative person who doesn't keep up with canonical lore and ignores it as she pleases

Canonically Racules is married to Suzume, which makes him and Gira in-laws to Kaguragi, and if either Hastie brother has children then Kaguragi would be their uncle

Personally I'm not a big Racules fan + there's some holes to him being "good all along" (even though the lead writer did set it up so his motivations could've gone two different directions (and in a very Yuya Takahashi fashion imo)). But I'm also a sucker for a big brother loving his little half-alien spawn brother so much - even more than the kid's actual father - that he would defile his own hands to keep him free from corruptive influences, and maybe I tried very hard not to swoon over his cliff scene with Suzume xD

I like to think Gokkan used to be a proper kingdom under Jeramie's father before he eloped/got exiled and the vicious in-fighting resulted in the original royal family being wiped out. Thus Gokkan is re-established as an elaborate high court and the crown (now just a formality) is passed down to worthy candidates rather than inherited by blood, though there's nothing wrong with a candidate being their predecessor's relative

Many Gokkan citizens would end up migrating to Ishabana, which is why "Moffun and Friends" is produced there

My point being, Jeramie is Gokkan's last "true" heir and Rita is part of the new rule. But Jeramie's more interested in maintaining human-Bugnarok relations, the kingdom has changed so drastically that what little of the original culture that Jeramie remembers is gone, and he despises sitting in an office all day, so his interest of reclaiming his birthright is little to zero

He will claim he has a "spiritual connection defying bloodlines" (affectionate, kinda trolling) to Rita and Rita will correct him every time (exasperated, gradually affectionate)

Jeramie: Back in my day, paperwork could have romance too Rita: You mean creating loopholes to increase taxes? Jeramie:

Also Morphonia is the previous king's daughter

Gira and Rita. If you know me, you know

Therefore Racules is in-laws with the high judge who slapped him. This prospect has entertained me for the longest time

They can't even make small talk without being painfully awkward because Racules no longer has reason to pretend being a jerk so he doesn't know what to say (and maybe he flinches a little whenever Rita removes a glove lol). Also Rita is not built to have social connections beyond ten select people; it's a work in progress

Girita both like children, are quite good with them and wouldn't be opposed to having them, but at the end of the day they would adopt or pass the throne down to a competent successor/Racules' kid

Jeramie would be a godfather. Who he'll read bedtime stories to and help them hide from the royal tutors by hanging from spiderweb hammocks is unknown. Regardless, he will be a loving godfather to someone and they will love him

Something in my blood says Himeno and Yanma are meant to be, even if I don't have strong feelings for this pairing. Their citizens would probably have a bet on how long it'll be until they formally acknowledge their union, with predictions varying from when they have a child and accept they can't put everyone who calls the little darling illegitimate under house arrest with poor wi-fi signal because I'll sneak in and strangle the blasphemous slanderer myself to until Yanma-kun tells Her Majesty that he loves a little arson while rolling in the soil in the second ring of the underworld and not to be pushy but I prefer having the skin on my bones when that happens please and thank you

There's an allure to the Yannhime kid becoming interested in agriculture. Not that their parents wouldn't be supportive but it would dismay them a little that they spent years debating whether their kid would prefer medicine or technology, and said kid picked up a shovel one day and decided a farm is the best place in the world. They'll find a way to make it work

[mybrothercainmybrotherabel]

no one: ...

My brain: hey, what's just the worse AU ever that ends bad for everyone?

Me: well I suppose it would be if Caleb didn't manage to push Evelyn back when the witch hunters attacked, but I don't want to write that...

My brain: 😈😈😈

Me: damnit

TW: hanging, violence, death

Before Caleb could react the mob descended upon him.

“Caleb!” Evelyn leapt forward, reaching out to him. Caleb tried to push her back, but he was too late. The world seemed to slow down while he watched helplessly as Evelyn was tackled to the ground.

“EVELYN!” Caleb screamed, “Get off her!” Flapjack tried to defend her, but the next thing Caleb could see was the palisman smashed underneath a heavy boot. “NO!”

Evelyn screamed. Caleb fought off six men trying to reach her. 

“Leave her alone! Don't hurt her!”

 Something hard hit Caleb in the back of the head stunning him just long enough for someone to gag him. The next time he caught a glimpse of Evelyn she was also gagged. Blood and tears streamed down her face. Her eyes were wide in horror.

Caleb threw his body towards her, he didn't care what happened to himself. But he had to get to her. He had to find a way to get her free. 

They were dragged to the hanging tree in front of the settlement, the bells ringing out loudly to announce their execution. Caleb did not stop fighting. He had to get to her somehow. He had to get her free. Perhaps if he could shake off his assailants and throw himself at hers she could have a chance to run…

People emerged from the settlement. Mr. Fuller amongst them. He saw Caleb and immediately confronted Mr. Archer. Caleb was too preoccupied trying to get to Evelyn to pay attention to their conversation. 

The next thing he knew he was being pulled in the opposite direction, while Evelyn was being pulled towards the hanging tree. Caleb fought harder. Sheer terror filled her green eyes. She knew what was about to happen. They both did. 

No! No! NO!

Caleb didn't stop bucking and kicking and throwing his body in her direction. He held her eye contact until she was ripped away from his view. 

He was dragged to the church, fighting all the while. Even when he was tied up to the pulpit and left alone in the darkness he continued to struggle against his bindings, hoping to loosen them. He only stopped when Mr. Fuller entered the church.

The older man hurried to Caleb and removed the gag from his mouth. 

“You have to save Evelyn!” Caleb cried as soon as he could get the words out. “Please, don't let them hang her!”

Mr. Fuller's face washed over in sympathy. “I'm sorry, son, tis too late.”

“No…No!” 

The knowledge that she was already gone was more painful than his shattered ribs. Mr. Fuller held Caleb’s face as he wept. There was nothing he could do. Evelyn was dead. She had died alone and terrified. She was dead because of him, because he had failed to protect her, because he was too stupid and too selfish to stay away from her even though he knew the risk. Had she died hating him? As she hung there, the life choking out of her, had she blamed Caleb for her fate?  

“I am sorry, son. Twas all I could do to convince them to allow you to stand trial. There was nothing I could do for her.”

“Tis all my fault.” Caleb sobbed. “I promised to protect her! I promised…I…”

“Breathe, son. I know how bad it hurts. Trust me, I know. But you need to breathe. We need to focus on clearing your name, once you are safe, we can mourn her. But first we need to come up with a plan. Philip is claiming you were bewitched, most people are inclined to believe him. No one can blame you for that, if we say that the enchantment broke when she died…”

“I wasn't bewitched. Evelyn, she…she would never do that. She isn't…she's not evil.”

“I believe you, but the others won't.” Mr. Fuller said, “I'm sorry, Caleb, I truly am.”

“I won't lie.” Caleb said, “I will not slander her, she is…” he could hardly speak. “She was kind and clever and thoughtful and…and good. She was good…and now…” 

…now she was dead…she was dead because of him…

“...I won't say she bewitched me. I won't stand trial. I won't.”

“If you don't they'll hang you.” 

“I know.”

For several long moments Caleb and Mr. Fuller held each other's gaze. 

Mr. Fuller was not Caleb’s father by name or blood but Caleb was his son, there was no doubt about it. Mr. Fuller had worked so hard to keep Caleb alive over the past ten years. Anytime Caleb thought all hope was lost Mr. Fuller would come and pull him through. But this wasn't something Mr. Fuller could pull him through. He had made up his mind. 

Evelyn was dead. Evelyn was dead because Caleb had failed to protect her. He would not betray her. 

Slowly Mr. Fuller closed his eyes and lowered his head. The weight of failure aged him, turning his face into that of a tired old man. 

He turned his head away from Caleb for a moment to regain his composure. He would not cry in front of Caleb. 

Finally, after what seemed like a very long time he nodded.

“You grew into a good man, Caleb. I am proud of you. I will always be proud of you. I only wish there was more I could do.”

“Take care of Philip for me.”

“I will, you don't even have to ask.”

“Do you think they'll allow me a Christian burial?” Dread was coursing through him. He was resolute, but not unafraid.

“I will do what I have to do to assure you are both buried. Your grave may have to be unmarked, but I will make sure the two of you are together.” 

Caleb nodded. 

“I'm scared.” He admitted.

“I know.” Mr. Fuller put his hand on Caleb’s shoulder. “I know.” 

“I can't repent. I can't with any honesty or conviction say I am sorry for the love I feel for Evelyn. If that means burning in Hell…”

“Do you want me to give you last rites?”

Caleb nodded.

Mr. Fuller took out the bottle of whiskey he kept in his pocket. “I know tis supposed to be wine, but this'll have to do.” 

He held the bottle to Caleb's lips so he could drink. Then he made the sign of the cross on Caleb’s forehead and recited the Commendation of the Dying.

“I commend you, my dear brother, to Almighty God, 

and entrust you to your Creator.

May you return to him who formed you from the dust of the earth.

May holy Mary, the angels, and all the saints 

come to meet you as you go forth from this life.

May Christ who was crucified for you bring you freedom and peace.

May Christ who died for you admit you into his garden of paradise.

May Christ, the true Shepherd, acknowledge you as one of his flock.

May he forgive all your sins, and set you among those he has chosen.

Amen.”

“Thank you.” Caleb said, his throat tight and his voice hoarse. 

“Here, drink this, it will…it will dull your senses.'' The older man still did not cry, but it was becoming increasingly obvious how much of an active effort he was making to stay stoic. He helped Caleb drink a tincture of laudnuam. “I will make sure Philip is not there to see.”

“Thank you.”

There was still so much both of them had to say to each other that words could never express. Caleb could never express his gratitude to Mr. Fuller for everything he had done. There were no words to repay the guidance, trust, and understanding that Mr. Fuller had given Caleb throughout the years. Nor were there words that could express the depths of despair felt by a man looking into the eyes of the boy he had raised, knowing that there was nothing else he could do to save him. 

“Goodbye, son.”

“Goodbye. And thank you, for everything.”

With that, Mr. Fuller left. After a long time he returned with the other four men who more or less governed the settlement. Zachariah Archer, George Tilley, Eli Carver, and John Percy. 

“William says you wish to forgo your right to a trial?” Mr. Carver said. 

“Yes.” 

“He knows he is guilty.” Mr. Archer said, “I must say, Wittebane, I do commend you for choosing to face your actions as a man rather than put everyone through the spectacle of a trial.”

“Is there nothing you wish to say in your defense?” Asked Mr. Carver.

Caleb shook his head, “I was not bewitched. I truly cared for Evelyn and do not believe her to be evil. I believe we have a misunderstanding of witchcraft and that the witches are innocent.”

“Blasphemy!” Mr. Tilley hissed.

“Caleb, think of what it is you are saying.” Advised Mr. Carver. “If you were bewitched we can hardly hold it against you. We could not allow you to remain in this settlement, but you could leave with your life. If you claim such heresy, we cannot allow you to live.” 

“I understand.” Caleb said, somehow he managed to keep his voice steady. “I did not expect you to believe me. And I will accept my fate with dignity. I only request that I am allowed to say goodbye to my little brother, and that he is not punished for my actions.”

“Surely you understand we cannot trust you alone with him while you are claiming such blasphemy.” Mr. Archer said. 

“But you cannot deny brother's their farewells.” Mr. Percy argued. “Not when they are each other's only kin.”

“Very well, fetch Philip, but they may only speak under supervision.” Mr. Archer said. 

Mr. Percy left to get Philip. 

“Have you made your peace with the Lord?” Mr. Carver asked, his eyes full of sympathy. He was a kind man, Elizabeth's companion came from somewhere.

“Mr. Fuller gave me last rites.” Caleb said. 

Mr. Carver nodded, “I shall pray for your soul.”

“Thank you.”

Mr. Percy returned with Philip, who ran straight to his brother. 

“Caleb! I don't understand! What's going on? Why do you refuse to stand trial?”

“Listen to me, Pip, we don't have much time. I need you to be strong for me, okay? You're going to have to take care of yourself now, but you can do it. You are smart, and Mr. Fuller will help you, lean on him if you need to.”

Philip shook his head, tears streaming down his face. “No! The witch is dead, tis okay now! The bewitchment is broken! They can't execute you! They can't!”

“Tis okay, Philip.”

“NO!”

“Philip, please.”

“Tis all my fault.”

“No. I do not blame you for this. I love you, I have always loved you. You're going to be okay.”

Philip squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head.

“I need you to promise you won't watch. I don't want you to see. Stay here with Mr. Fuller.”

“Caleb…”

“Promise me, Pip.”

“Okay…I promise.”

“One more thing.” Caleb leaned close enough to whisper into Philip’s ear. “Promise to stop witch-hunting.”

“I…I promise.”

“You'll be okay.” 

“Time to go.” Mr. Archer said.

“No,” Philip cried, grabbing Caleb's sleeves, “No, no…”

“Tis okay, Pip. I love you. Goodbye.”

Mr. Fuller silently came up behind Philip to hold him back as Mr. Archer and Mr. Tilley roughly pulled Caleb to his feet. Caleb made eye contact with each of them one last time. Philip’s eyes were swimming with tears. Mr. Fuller gave a solemn nod. It was the last bit of strength he could offer. 

Mr. Archer pushed him hard and he stumbled forward. Outside the church a crowd had gathered. Henry Jones and Elizabeth Carver amongst them.

“Father!” Elizabeth cried as soon as Mr. Carver walked out, she ran to him and clung to his arm. “Father, please reconsider!”

“Tis the law of the Lord, Lizzie. He confessed. Tis out of my hands.”

“Tis okay, Lizzie.” Caleb told her. “Go back to Henry.”

Elizabeth squeezed her eyes shut and sobbed. “At least give him a barrel to stand on.” She begged her father. “Please.”

“Very well.” Mr. Carver said. 

“Thank you.” Caleb said, “and thank you for being my friend.” 

Elizabeth threw her arms around him.

“Eli, you would do well to teach your daughter restraint.” Mr. Archer said.

“And you would do well to show some compassion!” Mr. Carver snapped back. “Come now, Lizzie.” 

Mr. Carver pulled Elizabeth back, Henry came forward to comfort her. 

Mr. Archer continued forward, pushing Caleb along. Tears sparkled in Elizabeth's eyes until she turned and buried her face in Henry's chest.

Others came out to witness Caleb’s final walk. People whispered, but Caleb kept walking with his head high until they reached the palisade gate, that was when the hanging tree came into sight. His knees failed him at the sight of Evelyn's body dangling limply from the branches. 

Mr. Archer and Mr. Tilley caught him under his armpits to stop him from hitting the ground. 

“You'll join her in Hell soon enough.” Mr. Tilley growled.

Caleb closed his eyes and looked away, she was dead. She was really dead. Tears rolled down his face. I'm sorry, Evelyn. I'm so, so sorry. 

Mr. Carver called for a barrel and helped Caleb step onto it. He was far more gentle than Mr. Archer or Mr. Tilley. He was a good man.

“I pray your neck snaps quickly.” He said quietly as he slipped the noose around Caleb's throat. “May God have mercy on your soul.”

Caleb wanted to thank him for his tiny kindnesses, but he didn't think he could speak. His heart was racing in his chest, desperate to get as many beats out as it could before it stopped forever. At least the laudanum had been given a chance to work, causing the world to blur and sway a bit, but dulling the pain of Caleb's broken ribs. 

Mr. Archer addressed the crowd.

“Caleb Wittebane stands before you, having confessed to consorting with witches. We now condemn him to face God's divine judgment.”

The next moment the barrel was kicked out from underneath Caleb’s feet. 

William Fuller waited in the church as once again one of his children was taken from him. In spite of what some people said, he had never seen Caleb and Philip as replacements for his own children. The loss of his brave David, sweet little Felicity, and their mother would forever be a hole in his heart that nothing could ever heal. But when he found Caleb and Philip, they had started building around the hole. He had needed them as much as they needed him. They had given him a reason to carry on living even after he felt like his heart had died. 

Caleb had grown into exactly the type of man William had hoped he would be: curious, open-minded, noble…those traits that had drawn William to him as a child, the traits that made him who he was, those were the traits that led him to his death. 

Young Elizabeth Carver was praying at the pulpit, with Caleb’s buddy Henry Jones beside her. Philip was still clinging to William like a child might cling to their mother. 

Finally, Eli Carver returned. Everyone looked up, his daughter stood as if hoping her father had come to deliver news of a miracle.

“It is done.” He said simply. A new hole ripped wide open in William's heart. Elizabeth crumbled, Henry caught her and lowered her gently to the floor. Eli crossed the room to stand before William.

“William…I…” his eyes were full of sympathy.

“Tis not your fault, Caleb had made his decision, not even I could talk him out of it.”

Eli nodded, “His neck snapped. I thought you should know that. Twas over quickly.”

Philip let out a sob. William put a hand on his head to comfort him. He didn't suffer, that was a small mercy. 

“Thank you.”

“I presume that I need not remind you that giving a Christian burial to one accused of witchcraft goes against the King's laws.”

“I am aware.”

“I also presume that you have every intention of burying that boy.”

“You presume correctly. Are you going to arrest me?”

“No,” said Eli, “I will aid you.”

“Thank you, my friend.”

William exited his bedroom to see Philip dressed and ready to go in the main room. The younger boy had come home with William, unable to face the idea of returning to the empty Wittebane house. 

“You're not coming with.” William told him.

“You can’t stop me.”

“Caleb asked me to keep you safe. I'm not going to immediately go against that promise by bringing you out to break the law.”

“He's my brother.”

“I know.”

“I'm never going to see him again.”

“I know. But your last memory of him should not be seeing him like that.”

“I've seen plenty of hangings, nothing will be worse than what I am already imagining.”

William sighed. With both himself and Eli complicit in this crime, the likelihood of any serious consequences was low. How could he deny Philip the chance to see his brother laid to rest?

“Carry the blankets and for the love of God, keep quiet.”

Philip nodded and obeyed, William shouldered a shovel and led the way through the darkened settlement. 

Eli and Henry were both waiting at the gates to the settlement.

“Let us make haste.” Eli said. 

They approached the tree with the two bodies dangling in the dark. 

“Cut him down, Henry.” William ordered. He and Eli got into position to guide the body to the ground. It looked like Eli had been telling the truth. While Caleb’s neck lobbed at an unnatural angle, his face was absent of the telltale bloating that came with strangulation. Philip could hardly contain himself. He held his brother's corpse to his chest and sobbed. 

“You must pull yourself together.” Eli said.

“Give him a moment to grieve while we cut her down.” 

“Surely you aren't serious!” Eli said. “Tis one thing to bury Caleb, but the witch? Have you gone mad?”

“She is but a girl,” William replied, “By looks younger than your own daughter.”

“She is the one who led Caleb to his fate.” 

“As he led her. Believe what you will, but Caleb loved her, enough that he would rather die than sully her name. I will not leave her here to rot.”

Eli sighed, “Cut her down, Henry.”

Carefully, William guided the girl's body down. She was not as lucky as Caleb. It was clear from the red spots on her skin and her swollen lips that she had not died quickly.

He thought about all the stories Caleb had told about her. She liked exploring and watching animals. She had a little sister and an older brother. She loved to tell riddles and snorted when she laughed. She had hopes and dreams for the future. She was just a kid. They were both just kids. 

“I'm sorry I couldn't have gotten to know you.” William whispered. “I hope you find peace.”

Carefully, William shrouded her in one of the blankets while Henry and Eli wrapped Caleb in the other. 

“There is a clearing by the river where the ground is soft.” Henry said, “Tis out of the way enough that I don't think anyone would disturb it or notice fresh turned soil.”

“Lead the way, then.” 

William lifted Evelyn’s body into his arms, Eli carried Caleb's. Philip trailed along with the shoves, shaking hard. 

Henry had been right, the earth in the spot he suggested was soft and it did not take long to dig an adequate grave. William lay the two bodies side by side. Eli helped him climb out. 

“Heavenly Father,” William prayed. “Look down in mercy upon these two children whom we offer now to thy care. Forgive them their trespasses and cleanse them with thy holy light. Grant them everlasting life in your kingdom. Let them know no more pain or sorrow. For you are the most holy. In your name, Amen.”

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

More Proverbs of Solomon

1 These are more proverbs of Solomon, collected by the scribes of Hezekiah, king of Judah.

2 God's greatness is in doing things that can't be known, while the greatness of kings is in revealing things.

3 Just as the height of the heavens or the depth of the earth can't be known, the king's thinking can't be known.

4 Remove the waste from the silver, and the silversmith has pure silver to work with.

5 Remove the wicked from the king's presence and the king will rule securely and justly.

6 Don't try to make yourself look great before the king, and don't pretend to be among the important people,

7 for it's better to be told, “Come up here,” than to be humiliated before a nobleman. Even though you've seen something with your own eyes,

8 don't rush to take legal action, for what are you going to do in the end when your neighbor shows you're wrong and humiliates you?

9 Discuss the case with your neighbor himself, and don't betray someone else's secret,

10 otherwise whoever hears it will make you ashamed and you'll never lose your bad reputation.

11 Advice given at the right time is like golden apples set in silver.

12 Constructive criticism from the wise to someone who listens is like a gold ring and a necklace of fine gold.

13 Faithful messengers are as refreshing to their master as cold snow on a hot harvest day.

14 Someone who boasts about a gift they never give is like cloud and wind without rain.

15 If you're patient you can persuade your superior, and soft words can break down opposition.

16 If you find honey, eat just enough, for if you eat too much, you'll be sick.

17 Don't set foot in your neighbors' homes too often, otherwise they'll get fed up with you and hate you.

18 Telling lies in court against a friend is like attacking them with a mace, or a sword, or an arrow.

19 Trusting in unreliable people in times of trouble is like eating with a broken tooth or walking on a bad foot.

20 Singing happy songs to someone who's broken-hearted is like taking off your coat on a cold day, or pouring vinegar onto an open wound.

21 If your enemy is hungry, give him something to eat; if he's thirsty, give him a drink of water.

22 This will make him ashamed as if he had burning coals piled on his head, and the Lord will reward you.

23 In the same way that the north wind brings rain, slandering people makes them angry.

24 It's better to live in a corner of a housetop than to share a whole house with an argumentative wife.

25 Good news from a distant country is like cold water to an exhausted traveler.

26 Good people who give in to the wicked are like a muddied spring or a polluted well.

27 It's not good to eat too much honey, or to want too much praise.

28 Someone without control is as exposed as a town whose walls have been breached. — Proverbs 25 | Free Bible Version (FBV) The Free Bible Version is a project of Free Bible Ministry; Copyright © 2018, Free Bible Ministry. All rights reserved. Cross References: Genesis 32:4; Exodus 20:16; Exodus 32:2; 1 Kings 4:32; 1 Kings 2:45; 2 Samuel 16:12; 2 Chronicles 28:15; Nehemiah 1:3; Job 6:15; Psalm 35:16; Proverbs 13:17; Proverbs 15:30; Proverbs 17:14; Proverbs 21:9; Proverbs 26:23; Proverbs 27:2; Ecclesiastes 7:16; Ezekiel 32:2; Matthew 12:35; Matthew 18:15; Luke 14:7-8; Luke 14:10-11; Romans 11:33; Jude 1:12

[livums]

a means of ensuring order. {🌹}

Hi again! I capitalized on some free time (shocker) and tried my hand at writing an event from the beginning of Demigods from Nysa's POV! I think I like it??? So... great!

Anyways, enjoy!

Featuring:

Princess Nyséan (ny-SHAWN)

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(tag, DM, reply, or fill out this google form to be added/removed from taglists)

General taglist: @enchanted-lightning-aes @outpost51

The Romance of the Demigods taglist: @aalinaaaaaa @sarahlizziewrites @thecrookedwriterspath @inkspellangel @crystal-librarian @hallwriteblr @bluberimufim

The first time the Church tried to kill her, Nyséan did not know how to respond. So, she told no one, and went about her evening. No one had ever before, to her knowledge, made an attempt on her life. Nyséan had long known that there was no great fondness for her among the peers of the realm. When her back was turned, they would call her things like ‘standoffish’ and ‘curt’. This was no slander, for she rarely employed the pleasantries or the delicate tricks of speech required by one of her station—damn near the highest station in the realm. Naturally, popularity eluded her. But this was not the offense for which she would be murdered.

From a plush chair—the perch to which she’d fled after that first sip—Nyséan eyed the cup of apple cider. It rested innocently on the tea table across the length of the drawing room. Candles burned ever lower in their sconces, and Nyséan did not take her eyes off the cup. The taste of the drink stained her tongue and her palate—far too sweet. Something sinister and bitter lurked beneath the sugar. Or, perhaps it was not at all so. Perhaps, in her vigilance, she had imagined the change in taste. Perhaps her recent conversation with the Archbishop had set her senses on edge. But Nyséan devoted her scarce-given trust to her own intuition above all else. She performed the same routine nightly—a stroll in the gardens, an hour in the library (after a concerned word from Father, she restricted herself in this regard), and, after dressing for bed, taking a sweet drink of the season in her drawing room while she composed, relaxed, or more likely, fretted. Without fail, it was so. So tonight, when the first taste of the cider had kissed her tongue and coated it with something so slightly different, she had spat it back into the cup without hesitation. Now, hardly realizing, Nyséan pulled her knees up to her chest, letting the chair cradle her and her gown swaddle her in its volume. Her mind raced in tandem with her heartbeat. When she tried desperately to recall the past moon or so, her memory would yield only thoughts of the Archbishop, of Father, and, naturally, of the Hierophant.

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Father had summoned her just after Midsummer. The perfect opportunity, she thought, to convince him of the Church’s ill guidance. It made her uneasy how, this year, the palace had only sparsely been decorated in the typical fashion, in the artisanal goods set out to please the Queen of the Earth, and the King of the Sky. Nyséan had not seen a single soul scattering family ashes, even. She wondered if the Earth and Sky took note. She wondered if they cared, anymore. It turned her stomach. The night before, she had witnessed a mere smattering of dances and fires, desperate to catch on in the heavy and solemn aura of the Church and its clergy. They’d not mandated a thing—not by official means. Even so, Nyséan could feel the power of the Host’s influence. It was evident in the way that the bonfires died shortly after sunset, in the way that the quiet singing and strumming of their priests took the place of the unabashed celebration of the peers, the servants, and other commonfolk. No true celebration of Midsummer. More and more of the nobility were electing to attend the sanctuaries instead, anyway. The Church of the Sonnelic Host, those who held to the so-called New Way—to them, the day was known as Second Apsidia. It was, like First Apsidia in the year’s earliest moons, a time of contemplation in honor of their god-of-gods, the very sun in the Sky. Or, rather, the sun in the Stellar Stratum, for it—or “He”—was much too great a god to be contained in something as small as the Sky. A scant three or four years ago, Nyséan recalled, the New Way faithful would hole themselves up in their sanctuaries and leave well enough alone. Now, it was simply not so. Thusly had Nyséan’s thoughts had been clouded as she drifted through the ashen stone corridors of the royal palace.

Before turning a final corner, she was halted by her reflection in a tall, slender mirror hung upon the wall. Nestled among paintings large and small, landscapes and portraits, she beheld her own self. Dark eyes were set amid twin clouds of pale skin that brushed over her temples, her cheekbones. Against her warm brown skin, the contrast was stark. Similar pearly nebulae crested above her neckline, along the span of her clavicle and her shoulders left unobscured by her gown. Her spine straightened itself as her impassive eyes trailed lower. Behind her, the dark coils of her hair that swished and billowed when she walked now hovered still about her shoulders. Her soft hands, clasped together loosely in front of her, were more richly dappled by the pale skin than some other parts of her body. Past the second knuckle, her fingers were almost entirely without pigment. ‘Moon-kissed’ was perhaps the kindest thing anyone had ever said of her. Anyone aside from Father—he had long been her only ally. But she could feel this changing more and more every day. A pair of house guards stood attendant at the doorway to his antechamber, deep in the embrace of the keep. At her approach, they parted the doors without delay. Aside from his most longstanding and familiar servants, only two people were allowed anymore into the King’s rooms: his daughter, and his physician. So, when Nyséan saw the Archbishop of the Host in her father’s sitting room, she was horrified. The woman rose from her chair with a startling youthful fluidity. She was tall. A sheer curtain of hair the color of platinum parted at the middle to frame a white and smiling face. The hair shimmered as her ivory-colored robes did, flowing like water when she moved—and sometimes when she didn’t. The Archbishop curtseyed deeper than necessary for one of her standing. To Nyséan, it was yet another layer of grotesquerie. “Your Highness.” The pale woman straightened to her full and eerie height. She looked rather like a bird, tilting its head to inspect something edible. “You honor this servant with your audience.” Nyséan felt her nails dig into the skin of her hand. Her response was quick, and clipped: “I came because my father called. No one told me that we would be joined by a guest.” “You wouldn’t have come if I had,” rasped the King. Nyséan turned her head with some reluctance to regard her father. Someone had helped him into his wheeled seat—Nyséan blessed the soul who had first devised such a contraption—and he had positioned it across the sleek low table from the Archbishop. The brown of King Hasteor’s skin had faded even lighter in recent years, and fatigue seemed to burden his eyes no matter how long he rested in bed. It did uncomfortable things to her stomach, seeing him so. She hadn’t seen much of him at all, these past moons. And the less she saw of him, the more she dreaded laying eyes on him again. And the more her dread mounted, the more she found herself avoiding his presence. She hated herself for it. Her father went on, in that voice that had dimmed as his illness had advanced: “Actira, you must forgive the princess. Although—“ He raised a hand, and gestured toward his daughter. “I’ve not seen nearly this much expression on her face in years. You have my gratitude.” His upper lip, concealed by a beard barely graying, coaxed the rest of his face into a smile. Despite the humor in his mien, his directives brokered no argument. He pointed to a third seat, a sofa. “Nyséan. Sit.”

Nyséan realized that she had stopped dead at the threshold between the antechamber and the sitting room. A stilted gait carried her forward, one reluctant foot after another. Her eyes did not once stray from the Archbishop’s face. They hovered on the woman’s nose (dainty, small) and mouth (wide. Smile unending). The instant Nyséan felt the seat cushion beneath her, the Archbishop was re-perching on her own chair. A ripple coursed down her robes, leaving subtle, cascading twinkles as it went. “I will explain my intentions.” The Archbishop arranged her hands upon her lap in a manner most formal, but Nyséan espied a giddy anticipation in the way that they moved. Where her father was drained of energy, the Archbishop overflowed with it. “Your Highness is a woman of a great many virtues and admirable qualities, as you yourself must certainly be aware.” Nyséan was not aware. The woman went on anyway: “And your future—the future of the realm—would of no doubt be chief among Your Highness’s worries. This, of course, is the mark of a truly extraordinary ruler-to-be—we subjects of the realm are terribly fortunate—“ Nyséan had stopped listening. “You’re explaining nothing,” she said. The Archbishop took in a breath to continue—she had either been perfectly prepared for the princess to interrupt her, or she did not care at all—but before she could speak, Father interjected. “The Hierophant.” The strength in her father’s voice surprised Nyséan, but it was quick to soften. It was as if he had cut in before realizing exactly what it was that he wanted to say. “Twenty-three… You are well of an age… The good Archbishop and I have been in talks…” Nyséan’s stare was blank. Father finally found the words. “It would be of great benefit to the realm,” he said, gently, “if you and the Sonnelic Hierophant were to wed.” She waited, and said nothing. He spoke the truth of the matter. “You and the Hierophant will be betrothed.”

Nyséan blinked. “No.” The Archbishop leaned forward, her flowery, gushing language at the ready. “His Radiance is amenable to—“ “No.” “Nyséan—“ “He is enthusiastic to meet—“ “I said no!” The shout tore desperately out of her body, which jolted in its wake. The sound of it lanced like lightning through the quiet grace of the opulent sitting room. It was dizzying, the grave understanding that wrapped its slow and steady talons about her torso. Nyséan felt her breath shorten. A delicate silence followed. Nyséan’s wide eyes were pointed downward, at her trembling hands. She did not look up at the King. She knew that she would only see him avoiding her gaze if she did. The Archbishop was the first to speak again. Softly, as if consoling a small child or a frightened animal: “If Your Highness would consider seeing him, speaking with him,” she said. “I believe you will find His Radiance most appealing.” Ignoring her, Nyséan finally turned to the King with entreaty. “But you said—“ “Nyséan, the realm…” His tone mirrored the Archbishop’s. She hated it. “Brennenhaugh is rapidly approaching unrest—Old Way, New Way…” At this, Nyséan heard the Archbishop snort. “When I am gone, you will be without a means of ensuring order. I refuse to burden you with a kingdom in crisis. The good Archbishop graciously furnishes us with a solution.” Nyséan heard beneath the King’s words a truth that he may or may not have intended: If people liked you more, it might not have come to this. Helplessly, she repeated herself: “But you said.” “Meet the young man, Nyséan.” A sudden fury drove her off the sofa. Standing, Nyséan turned to regard the wispy Archbishop. She jabbed a finger in the woman’s direction. The interloper was unperturbed. “Keep yourself and your faithful away from my father,” Nyséan hissed. “I won’t let you take advantage of him any more than you already—” “Nyséan!” The King must have exhausted much of his strength in the one bellow, for he deflated gradually as he spoke on: “My wits are not gone just yet. This is a decision I make in sound mind.” Despite his diminishing volume, Nyséan could not mistake the resolve there.

She fixed her anger on him. “Before, you would have been the first to say that it’s a fool who slights the Fae-Gods. What do you think this is?” “This is in your best interest. I need you to understand this. I thought—“ He hesitated, and the last remnants of sternness in his voice were no more. “Nyséan, I thought I would have more time to set this kingdom right for you.” She said nothing. She had no choice—something too big for words was trying to fight its way into language. But it was in vain. It was all Nyséan could do to keep herself standing. “The Church holds more influence in the realm with every passing day. This is all that I can do for you, now.” Her mouth hung open, desperate for the words to come. They did not. She shook her head. Nyséan did not move again until the Archbishop spoke. “As I endeavored to mention…” Her voice might have soothed a thousand serpents. “…His Radiance desires to arrange a meeting. You will find that he is nothing sort of…” Nyséan stopped hearing the woman. The words were far away, taunting her. Mute, she turned her back on the Archbishop, and the King, and left the sitting room. Distantly, she could hear the woman speaking to him with urgency. The hurried shuffling of cloth, and the telltale tapping of shoes on sleek stone tiles followed behind. “Your Highness!” Nyséan did not stop moving through the antechamber, towards the outer doors that would release her back into the corridors of the keep. The Archbishop, on her long and presumably spindly legs, soon fell into step with her.

“His Radiance has expressed to me that he wishes so ardently to meet you,” she said. “I’ve watched over him since he was a babe, Your Highness. He will make a strong and loving husband.” The Archbishop leaned in then, as if the two of them were sharing a joke. Nyséan kept her eyes forward. “And he is quite handsome—” Pivoting on her heel, Nyséan whirled on the Archbishop. Words grew hot in her mouth, and she spat them at the woman. “Tell your prophet I’d sooner leap from a balcony—or slit my skin—or swallow poison than hand your Church the reins to my kingdom.” The Archbishop receded coolly to her full height. Not once did her demeanor waver, but Nyséan saw—or perhaps appended to the memory upon reflection—the slightest tightening of the woman’s smile. After a moment, the Archbishop dipped into another curtsey. “Your Highness.” She turned and walked serenely back the way she had come.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

It had not been Nyséan’s intention to give the Church any ideas. Yet before her sat the fruit of their inspiration—a poisoned cup. A princess who should be dead. She was eventually able to unfurl herself and approach the cider. Peering into it, it appeared perfectly normal. She leaned forward to sniff at it, then stopped herself abruptly. What sort of death had the Church designed for her? Would it have been gentle, as sleeping? A burning fever? Violent, bloody, choking agony? There were a seemingly infinite abundance of rules by which Nyséan knew she, as princess of the realm, must abide. Many were enshrined in law. Many had been passed down to her through the King’s patient guidance. And still many more were the unspoken, the invisible, those which were just Known. It was these that she so often failed—these courteous tools, these sleights of the tongue. The more she grasped at them, the more they eluded her understanding. After a time, this ceased to frustrate her, and continued to frustrate everyone else. But now, Nyséan found herself wondering whether or not a more thorough knowledge of these rules might have been useful, for she was beginning to realize that she did not know how to react in the wake of an assassination attempt. First, she paced about the perimeter of her drawing room. This way and that, minute after minute after minute. Next, she opened the door that led back into the keep. A house guard stood at attention on either side of the doorway, as was typical. For the first time, Nyséan eyed their faces. If they paid her any mind, they did not show it. She soon retreated. Then, she took the cup in trembling hand and flung the cider out a window. And, well, after that, what more could be done? Had she drank the poison and died, it was perfectly reasonable that no one would find her until morning’s light. She could see little point in disrupting the remainder of her nighttime routine. Nyséan returned to her original seat—her desk chair. By waning candlelight, she continued to write, and pretended to be dead for a while.