#I know it's not as bad as it was at one point but I'm late to the party and overtired

[angelltheninth]

When Arcane Men Get Jealous

Pairing: Viktor, Jayce, Ekko, Vander, Silco, Finn, Marcus, Loris, Steb x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, jealousy, possessive behavior, being protective, kissing in public, biting, holding hands, public display of affection, canon typical violence, suggestive

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: Would die if they were jealous over me. Melt into a puddle. Gone.

When Viktor gets jealous he gets a bit more withdrawn than he usually is. Not that he was ever a social butterfly, however he was always more open and happy to talk when it was with you. So his behavior is odd, he even seems to get quieter whenever you walk into the room. Like he's trying to remove himself from you with silence.

"I am not avoiding you. Look, there has been a lot to do for the past week, I'm sorry if you got a bad impression but I was simply busy. If you want more company, go ask Jayce, or Skye, I'm sure they will be more than happy to entertain you, darling."

Viktor is short with his answers, saying as little as possible to minimize the amount of time he spends talking to you. Not because he doesn't want to talk to you, he loves talking to you, but if he keeps talking there's a chance he might say something he's going to regret. And end up hurting you.

"There you go again with these ridiculous accusations. You won't leave it alone will you? So now it's my fault that your project is running late? I would have been happy to help but someone was too busy talking with... you know what, nevermind. You're right, we both have a lot to do, so let's just drop this conversation and focus on work."

If you keep getting in the way of his work, Viktor will eventually come to a breaking point. Him not being able to work is only adding to his emotions, and he's never been the best at dealing with them. While he doesn't exactly yell at you, it's very rare that he ever raises his voice there's a notable frustration in his words, and pain, fear that you'd leave.

"If I'm being so unreasonable then leave. Go. Have fun. I know it's not idea to be cooped up in the lab all the time. There are so many more things to do out there. if you... want to go with other people I suppose I can't stop you, nor can I stop my own jealousy. How am I being even more unreasonable? I know you wouldn't leave me without talking about it. Look... I do not... want you to leave, working is more fun with you. But am I truly all that you want? Me? This lab? Because you're all I want. All that I can think of."

When Jayce gets jealous he keeps invading your personal space when you're around the person or people he's jealous of. His behavior is nothing innapropriate or pushy. It's just his arm around your waist, just him bringing you that drink you wanted, just him bragging about you a bit too loud and saying how much he loves you.

"You really are great, babe. How in Runterra did I ever find a beauty like you huh? What's that bashfulness for now, I always praise you, and I'm never gonna stop. You're my girl right? I can be a proud boyfriend and talk you up every once in a while."

Physical affection a big deal to Jayce and a way he shows he cares but also a giveaway to his jealousy. He holds your hand longer, his eyes flicker between you and the one he's jealous off, his smile is a bit more nervous when he has to leave you alone. Then there are his kisses, not as gentle, not a little, quick peck on the edge of your lips but a real kiss, lips pressed against yours until you let him know you need air.

"Got a bit carried away there. Ah, sorry, I can't resist you sometimes. All the time. Do you expect me to when you wear lipstick like that? Makes your lips look like they're made to be kissed. By me specifically. I'd kiss you all night long, for the rest of our lives and never get tired of it."

Jayce keeps denying that he's jealous when you bring it up in a teasing way. Logically there's no reason to get jealous, everyone knows your relationship is doing great, in fact you're hardly ever fighting and even when you are it doesn't last too long. How does he turn that part of his brain off? How can he not get jealous when all those people look at you the way he looks at you?

"They're always looking at you. How can you not notice? It's so obvious. You don't notice because... you're only looking at me? That doesn't even make sense! Of course they're looking, you're breathtaking everywhere you go. I just hope that wherever you go, you'll always take me with you, because I want to be by your side forever."

Ekko often jokes about being jealous so you don't pick up on him actually being jealous. A little jealousy is fine but not when it's getting in the way of his missions and operations with his team. He'd been a bit distracted in the past, by one of the Firelights flying too close to you, so he pushed his way between you two.

"It was the formation! Which you would have remembered if you weren't too busy chatting. Come on, Firefly, get your head in this. Otherwise you're gonna make your leader jealous. Wouldn't want that right? What if... what if you get demoted for it? Hey! Ow! I wouldn't demote you, who would listen to all my plans?"

When you have free time together Ekko makes sure to spend as much time with you as possible. If you're together all the time there's less chance that someone else will swoop in and flirt with you. He would never describe his behavior as being clingy, all he wants is to spend free time with his girlfriend. That is perfectly normal behavior.

"What do you say we go out to get some food? We don't have to spend all our time here. Not like the tree is gonna burn down if we're away for a couple of hours right? Besides it's been a while since it was just you and me all alone. Miss being alone with you. Don't you miss it too?"

If the person he's jealous of ever puts you in danger in any way Ekko will go off on them. Harder than he scolded others in the past. He might let some of his jealousy show then, but he storms off, well flies off before you can talk to him. As much as he wants to be alone he also makes room for you on his hoverboard when you float down next to him.

"Shouldn't have went off on them like that. I know, you don't gotta say it, I'll say I'm sorry. Let cool off a bit. You'd think that if they were flirting with you that much they could have been looking out a bit better. I'm always looking out for you. Maybe a bit too much. Sorry if I've been weird about it lately. Would you forgive me if I took you on a romantic hoverboard ride?"

No one wants to piss off a big man like Vander by flirting with his wife. Everyone values their life and their bones too much. But... they stare at you. Quite openly actually. You see it, and you bet he sees it too. He sees everything that's happening at his bar and he won't stand for someone ogling his wife, even if he has to get aggressive about it.

"It's my damn bar, I've got the right to break the table with their heads when they're looking at ya like that. Tell ya what, a lot more people would avoid this place if I started beating up every asshole that looks at ya wrong. Only reason I don't is cause I don't want ya to be mad at me after."

He hasn't banned anyone from his bar in a very long time. Vander knows he tolerates a lot, this is Zaun, and some people don't have the best manners, that's not exactly their fault. But on the other hand if they start something with him then he will finish it. When he tells them to stop looking at you like you like you were one of Babette's workers and they get in his face he will pick them up and throw them out.

"Bastards had it coming. I tried to be nice, then they had to go and call ya names. Ain't no way in hell I'm gonna let anyone insult my wife. Not here, not on the streets, not anywhere. I went there and I wanted to talk to them, tell them to fuck the hell off, they were the ones who started getting violent. So I responded in kind."

Vander calls you over to the bar a bit more often if he sees a particular table is trying to monopolize you. He carries some of the drinks over, the food plates too, or he simply walks up behind you when one of the guys is getting flirty. Seeing his imposing, huge frame behind you, his muscles bulging, is enough to get most to back off you.

"See, darlin', I can talk things out just fine. When people are being smart about it that is. Might have to stop selling so much booze in this place, then they won't be so bold with ya. Ya are a pretty sight, I can't say otherwise. But ya are a pretty sight for me, not them, ain't that right? Mhm. I know, I'm all yer's too."

Silco never ever says he's jealous of anyone. He is the most powerful man in all of Zaun, everyone is scared of him and with good reason. As the Eye of Zaun he knows when people are looking, talking too, and might even try to touch you. Those people are often payed a not so nice visit by his men.

"I did hear about that gang, yes. It's very unfortunate that they don't know how to keep their noses where they don't belong. It's not that big of a loss on our end. There are a hundred people who can do their work, and better. All that matters is that they won't even have to think about not touching you again."

He rarely has to get his own hands dirty when he gets jealous. All it takes is him saying who the target or targets are and he makes them dissapear from Zaun. That doesn't always have to be deadly, but if they're really dumb it is. If Silco feels that you're in some kind of danger then he will keep you close by. He tries to distract you from seeing he's jealous.

"All I'm saying is that we could take a break from work. Sevika and Jinx can handle a week of it. And you and me can lock ourselves up in our home and not come out. The bedroom works perfectly fine too, if you'd rather spend our time in there. And what is it that I'm doing, darling? Jealous? You are an observant one. I wouldn't want you any other way."

The only time Silco will threaten someone in person is if that someone is bold enough to flirt with you in front of them. He can scare people within an inch of their life just by talking to them, he's not just a good businessman, and some people tend to forget that. He has Zaun in the palm of his hand, and everyone in it.

"He did not actually piss himself. Did he actually. Hm, I wasn't look at him anymore to be honest. He was spineless, surprising given he talked to you like he did. Guess he was thinking with his other head a bit too much for his own good. Why are you looking at me that way? Ah, I see. Looks like someone enjoyed watching me put a scumbag into his place a bit too much."

Since Finn isn't someone who would take anything lying down he will be damned before he sees someone coming onto his woman and not do anything about it. He might have a certain charm about him but that doesn't mean he's not ready to makes heads roll the moment when someone crosses any kind of line with you. Imaginary or otherwise.

"Hah, did you see that doll? As soon as I threw one punch he went down. All his buddies ran like rats. Left him all alone there. After all that tough talk and he couldn't even defend himself. Serves him right. He's lucky all I did was break his nose when he flirted with you. I wasn't even that far away."

Finn will make out with you in front of who ever he is jealous of just to prove a point to them. And while he has you moaning, has your head buried against his neck and your body running hot he will look at the other person and stick his tongue out at them, right before making a V with his fingers and putting his tongue between them. He's vulgar but it gets the point across very well.

"All these people looking at what's mine. Now, I can't have that right? I love that you're showing off your body, it's a great body, you know how much I love it. But sometimes I want to keep you away from prying eyes. And if I can't the least I can do is give them a show. Make them know I'm the only one who can touch you."

His jacket is a signature part of his outfit, but Finn will let you wear it. Hell, he will walk over and drape it over your shoulders while not even looking at whoever you're talking to. Sometimes they're not worth looking at when he can look at the pretty way you blush as you touch his hand that's lingering on your shoulder.

"Thought you looked a bit cold there. Keep this on all night. Later on I'll help you warm up my way, a much more fun way. Don't even worry about your perfume getting all into this, love having your scent all over me. And by tomorrow you're gonna be wearing all of my marks."

There are a lot of people in the Enforcers who tease Marcus about having such a pretty wife. He knows you're pretty, but he doesn't like that the department is noticing it so much as well. Not that there's any way for him to hide it, or that he wants you to hide it, that would be a real crime.

"I was not pouting. That is so childish. I was glaring at them. Well, they were the ones who stared first. You visit me at work, like that's such a big deal. We're married, honey, I pick you up from work too. Why is it such a big deal here? I think they're just trying to get a rise out of me."

Won't deny that he's feeling jealous or shy away from showing it. When Marcus notices any of his men flirting with you he makes them work extra hard that day, he gives them more paperwork, something that everyone hates there, or assigns them to the toughest jobs that he knows will take them days to complete. He can't help but chuckle when you visit again and they're too tired to flirt with you, they just say hello.

"What do you mean I'm picking on them? Of course not. You know how hard it is to deal with all these extra cases. Someone has to take on a few more. No, the fact that it's the same Enforcers who gave you flowers that one time has nothing to do with it. You think it does? And do you have evidence of this accusation?"

Marcus isn't shy about kissing you in front of the whole department. If that's what it takes to send them all a clear message to back off. It's always perfectly chaste kisses, but he does make sure that everyone hears him say he loves you when you leave. He smirks when eyes turn to him and he wishes them all a good rest of their day.

"Now you call me petty. All of these accusations and you still don't have any evidence. That's not a very good way to have a case. You've been keeping count have you? Oh. You... actually have been keeping count? I'm guilty? Fine, you got me, you got me. Maybe... that was a little petty of me, but I'm not sorry."

Every time Loris is jealous it's almost impossible for him to hide that fact. He's a big guy, nothing about him is easy to his, not even his emotions. And he's loud, so every time he huffs, mumbles something, or grunts you hear it. Your eyes meet and he looks away, his hand grasping yours and running his thumb over the back of your hand.

'They were staring at you a bit too much for my liking, pretty girl. If they were as tough as they pretend they were they should have held their ground more. Proves they were all bark and no bite. People like that really get on my nerves, and then they talk to my girl like she's single."

Loris invites you to have lunch with him quite often, even more often when he gets jealous of someone who works with him. Dealing with them in any other way would be unprofessional of him, and might get him in trouble. This way he gets to avoid that, avoid them, and spend a nice lunch date with you. No matter how you look at it he's the real winner here.

"Looks so good. But if you keep looking at me like that I might get hungry for something else besides the food. Just try shifting the blame on me when you know exactly how you're looking at me right now. I wouldn't risk it at work, but... if you showed up with a few hickeys on your neck it might get the rest of the department to stop flirting with you."

As much as he tries to make his jealousy go away it's not easy. Loris knows he should be an example for others, after all he had been an Enforcer for a long time, he can't just let his emotions get the better of him. Hard to keep those emotions down when they concern you. If nothing else works he will intimidate people. Easy enough for him. But he would rather that be a last resort.

"If he wasn't ready to throw fists and words at me then he shouldn't have thrown flirty words at you. He should be able to back himself up if he's gonna be saying stuff like that. All I did was pick him up and throw him outside. Hey, I might get in a bit of trouble for it, but at least he'll leave you alone from now on. I'd risk my badge for you if I have to, you know that."

Since he is the quiet type Steb shows his emotions and jealousy is one that he works hard to surpress. Every time he notices that someone is standing a little too close to you he walks over and looks at you, lovingly, then he looks at the other person with a glare, a deadly one. All the while he's standing shoulder to shoulder with you.

"Come now, angelfish, they weren't even worth your time. We both know they only had one thing in mind when they were talking to you. I could see it in their eyes. I don't appreciate that they looked at you like that. And I know you don't either. So I felt like I had to step in."

He is very physical with his jealousy. Steb lets his eyes and touches linger a few moments longer when he wants to make a point to someone. While he knows you don't hate it he also doesn't want to come off as too jealous or too possessive over you. You can take care of yourself and he loves that about you, he's watched you put people in their place often, but there are times where he can't hold himself back.

"I could feel your fingers interlocking with mine. You wanted me to stand close to you when they weren't leaving you alone. Would you have raised your voice if I hadn't walked over? It would be amusing to see it. But I think those kisses we shared also sent an equally powerful message. You didn't have to bit me though."

Steb nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck when he's feeling really, really jealous of someone. He makes it look less possessive than it is, pretending like he's overhearing something you have to say, and then pushing himself just a little bit closer. His cold lips make contact with your neck, sending shivers down your body before he brushes your lips with his thumb and leaves with a smirk.

"That ought to be enough. I could have done more but marking you in public might have been a step too far. We can enjoy things like that in private however. I enjoy being close to you in any context, and if it makes others realize you're not looking for anyone because you've already got a man then I enjoy it even more."

[somerandomcockroach]

*sets the sofa, sits down* AND WE RIGHT AWAY START FROM THE PROWL IS AND WILL BE A MURDERED STATEMENT. GOOD AHAHAH Love how much Prowl improved in reading emotions. Orion. You ask Prowl something that he probably memorized from the book and he of course will tell you a book definition. Don't cut it with your merely "It's a massacre" Still wonder at the fact of how much functionists had to f*** up the whole situation for the beasts, who are more than capable of intelligent thinking and just different by their mode or different things that can not even appear in them in the first place, for this whole situation to appear that even the "compromise" seems like a hardly reachable option. I understand if other monsters who are, more bests than mechas. But most of them seem to be, decent, normal, minding their business, just trying to find a fuel/food, yeah, this last is easily solvable.

Yeah, Orion, exactly, let me sit with you

Oh, here we are, Orion snaps at Prowl. Do it, he went in a different direction, the one leading to murder and blood, you know. The problems that are solved hard way are never logical ahah, good luck, Prowl *looks at Orion trying to see a glimpse of emotion from Prowl for at least his own death to crack his logic* I need a minute Orion for god's sake could you like, fake laws and give him your own written full of ponies and funsies?? You were giving him official books with laws, I'm sure a lot of written by Functionalists and you expect to break the logic that was based on it??? OH RATCHET. PROWL CAN DO NOTHING. OKAY OKAY OKAY OKAY OKAY OKAY OKAYOKA YAOKAYAOKAY. OKAY. NO ONE SAID RATCHET??? RATCHET, COULD, JUST, ARRRGHHHHHH BASTARDS ORION AND SHOCKWAVE MAXED THE "LOOK AWAY IN TIME" ABILITY BUT NO ONE TOLD RATCHET? OH YES. GETTING RID OF YOUR OWN SIGHT AND LEAVE. I BET THIS IS NOT A LOGICAL THING TO CONSIDER FOR PROWL EHEHHEHEE OH MY GOD sorry I need to sit because. Yes clean floor is an easy goal. But Prowl. You are. About to get such a big and complicated to reach goal that it is so mindblowing to now look at you and consider other golems. (Eh, sudden thought of someone getting off his artefact) Prowl. on which side you play I don't understand anymore. Are you trying to make a god out of Orion to scare functionalists by actually making good for them or what.

PROWL YOU COULD. YOU COULD COME UP WITH SUCH GREAT PLANS OF MASS MIGRATION OR AT LEAST BETTER HIDINGS FOR THEM. TRICKING ALL THE TROOPS. YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO FIGHT EVIL, NOT JOIN IT. oh, CONGRATS, your education went to the point where it became wrong! Congrats, Prowl, we are on a changing point ahah! YES IT IS HIS ARMY. HIS ARMY OF POWERFUL, MAGICAL, SAVED AND THANKFUL BEASTS WHO CAN FIGHT FOR SHOCKWAVE, AND I ACTUALLY WISH THAT THEY DID. I WISH THEY DID BEFORE IT WAS TOO LATE. PROWL CAUGHT HIS BEFORE HE EVEN STUMBLED. PROWL MAKES WRONG THINGS BUT. BUT THE FACT THAT HE ACTUALLY COVERS HIM THIS WAY NO MATTER HOW BAD IT IS. I'M SURE ORION IS NOT HAPPY. SHOCKWAVE HAS NO ONE TO COVER HIM WHERE IT COULD KILL HIM. BUT EVERYTHING AROUND HIM IS BUILT WITH GREEN WALLS THAT ARE MUCH STRONGER THAN DENSE WALLS OF BLOOD.

I have several levels of uncomfortable feelings from this part

YOU DID NOT JUST GO TO SHOCKWAVE'S ACADEMY. THEY ARE NOT THE BEASTS YOU CAN TOUCH. EVER. OH MY FRICKING GOD OKAY HERE I CRY FOR REAL. THE SCENE OF HIM. SWORD AND BOOK. PROTECTING WITH EVERYTHING HE HAS. STANDING LIKE A MOUNTAIN AND THE PRIMUS ITSELF

THE COUNCIL WOULDN'T LET HIM DO THIS.... ..... what...... The burns are from?..

............ I just understand that. That I'm sure the way Shockwave "changed" is so many times harder and more powerful because of who he is and what he is capable of... Get Prowl, Orion nd Ratchet at one table and ask them if what they do will find a punishment from Primus.

............

....................... When Orion is in troubled feelings Prowl searches for Shockwave. All goals are tangled, lost and complicated. His goal became something he cannot reach no more since it evolved too hard. Oh my god I wanna see how... how that goal, something he cannot reach no more, just becomes a part of him, like a self forged motor heart of his, just to keep living. Are they... Shockwave's students?... F** THEY ARE I AM CRYING AGAIN SHIT F** YOU KEF I CANNOT NO MORE DON'T JSHDEDC AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA OKAY BREATH, COMEONE. LAST WILL. *INTENSIFIES CRYING* F*** YOUUUUUUUUUU THEY. EVERYTHING. HE LEFT EVERYTHING TO ORION. SKIDS???? THUNDERCRACKER?? OH DID ORION NEVER HOLD SHOCKWAVE'S SWORD??? or just became too weak from all the events... OH MY GOD THE SCENE OF KNEELING, THE SCENE OF THE STUDENT OF THEIR PASSED MASTER ON THE VERGE OF CRYING AND ALL THE STUDENTS OF HIS DEAR FRIEND KNEELING BEFORE HIM. I AM DEAD NO ONE TALK TO ME. PROWL LOOK. LOOK WHAT AN ILLOGICAL LONG TERM EFFORT MAKES. IT MAKES LITERALLY INEFFICIENT MIRACLE. THE MIRACLE THAT IS WORTH ALL THE PERCENTAGES. YOU DO NOT KILL AND WORK FOR IT TO BE MORE THAN ONE DAY MERCY I mean Ratchet got a boyfriend this way come on

WEHGEHGEWFHWFEWE HELP. I imagined that Shockwave had a score system or something for Skids to actually say "Best student" as something not of a brag level SHOCKWAVE YOU SMART SWEET ROLL I LOVE YOU. HE KNEW HOW TO DO IT RIGHT. SUCK IT COUNCIL AND COUNCIL DARE YOU TO TRY TO USE IT IN YOUR ADVANTAGE.

PROWL I SWEAR TO ALL THE GODS

(side note can I kiss you for just... rotating every possible side of Prowl? Like, I am just, suddenly understood that just a thing of Prowl assuming that Shockwave could betray Orion is something so fittable for him since he considers everything but just... when you look at it from the side of coming up with it. I wouldn't??)

SHOCKWAVE WHAT DID YOU DO.

They are still not executed. So I am sure it isn't about the saving monsters thing. I think Prowl leads the idea in the right direction. I am confused though at why Shockwave turned into demon at this exact time. What was the trigger. I am leaning closer to the dark magic than betrayal anyway

THE GOD MUST BE WRONG

RIGHT DIRECTION, PROWL.

ARE YOU... did you just... led him straight to mimics plotline....

Part 2 of Golem!Prowl AU!

_____________________

“I hate it,” Orion sighs.

“It's understandable. But you can't change the system from the inside without becoming part of it first.”

“I was hoping I could become part of it without becoming a murderer.”

“It's okay” says Prowl ”You don't have to. That's what you have me for.”

Orion twitches.

Part 1. Next->

The fic under the cut⤵️

Orion looks...sick. Worried. Scared.

“Prowl, do you know what the Great Hunt is?”

Prowl tilts his head keeping up with the lists he received from the Council.

“Traditional raids on monsters made to consolidate control over the land holdings of regular Mechs.”

Orion rubs the bridge of his nose

“It's a massacre.”

Prowl twitches his wing.

“It is a measure of intimidation against creatures that cannot be negotiated with. Brutal, I don't deny that, but experience shows it works. The destructive activity of monsters lessens considerably if they know their actions can be followed by punishment.”

Orion stares at him. For a long time. Silently.

Tensely studying him, as if seeing him for the first time.

“You think killing them instead of finding a compromise is...right?”

Prowl thinks he must be treading on unstable ground.

“I think it works. That is all. Monsters do a lot of damage with their existence. They kill, destroy and pillage. If periodically reducing their numbers reduces their damage, it confirms the effectiveness of the strategy.”

“They just want to live. Primus' sake, they want to eat.”

Prowl sighs. More for appearances than for any real effect.

“I suppose I can't judge them for wanting to survive. It makes sense.”

Orion nods.

He looks oddly pensive.

“Ratchet keeps picking up wounded...” he stammers, apparently trying to find a suitable alternative to the word monster “...wounded beastformers. I've been to his house. It's generous, but I'm afraid of what will happen if he gets caught doing it.”

Prowl frowns

“He should have stopped.”

“You wouldn't understand.” sighs Orion ”Him. Shockwave. We want to help. To make things better. I don't need you to chide me for disobeying the rules, I need you to figure out how to change them. Ghosts and insecticons deserve freedom as much as we do.”

“But...”

Orion looks at him angrily.

“No. Whatever you're going to say in response to that. No. I know you're driven primarily by logic, but I need you to remember it well. All sentient beings deserve to live free. Do you understand? All of them. Period.”

Prowl rolls up the lists and interlocks his fingers in front of him. There are small scuffs on his thumbs and index fingers from constant writing. He occupies himself with running his fingers over them, feeling the difference in texture.

“Mech's freedom in such a case ends where someone else's hungry jaws begin. You can't expect monsters and Mechs to just coexist in peace if you give them freedom.”

“No” sighed Orion ”That's why I support Shockwave's idea with creating an academy for magically gifted Mechs. He's helping to show the world that so-called 'dark creatures' can be as civilized citizens as any Mech. He teaches them to find that compromise. We can't just expect centuries of hate and fear to be forgotten once the laws change. We must direct this process. To help the Mechs understand and accept each other. Guide them, you might say.”

Prowl feels a headache coming on, as it always does when Orion requires him to logically solve a problem the answer to which lies in the feelings rather than the intellect. He's not built for this. It irritates him.

Orion stops right in front of him and puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Tell me what you think of this. If...let's pretend for a second that my morality fiddles don't matter anymore. That the problem of Mechs and monsters coexisting is something you alone need to solve. And solve it in such a way that the outcome is optimal for us as a society. To maximize the number of happy citizens. What would you do?”

Prowl is silent for a moment.

Orion squeezes his shoulder lightly before continuing.

“'Free from my judgmental conclusions, Prowl. From the standpoint of pure logic. What should we do?”

What to do...Prowl's thought process finally finds a direct and understandable train of thought. Monsters make up a paltry few percent of the population of all living Mechs. The numbers fluctuate depending on which region is being considered of course.

In some cities, some types of monsters are considered just fancy Mechs. Some monsters have risen from the status of savages to being respectable Mechs over the course of history. Even Orion's best friend, Shockwave, could be regarded as a mystical creature in some regions due to his gift of flight.

Nevertheless. The percentage is still minuscule.

But even that tiny percentage takes a significant toll on the economy and quality of life, because just one uncontrollable creature can terrorize an entire city.

He notes the weight of Orion's hand on his shoulder. Not judgmental. Orion promised he wouldn't judge.

“I'd get rid of the monsters.”

“Oh” Orion blinks ”Locked them in cages? Chased them away? Killed them?”

Prowl twitches his wings

“Banishment will only move the problem in terms of space, and imprisonment isn't secure enough. It would make sense to get rid of the monsters. Once and for all. It wouldn't be pretty or merciful, but it would greatly improve life for everyone, at the cost of a tiny percentage of living beings who were already of no use.”

“And you believe that would be a good outcome?”

“I believe it would.”

“But you're not a Mech yourself.” Orion reminds “Would you be willing to be exterminated along with the rest of the creatures if your plan were put into action?”

Prowl tilts his head slightly. Just to make it easier to look at Orion.

“You created me to, as you put it, help you make the world a better place. Sometimes in order to improve something you have to cut out the factors that get in the way. It's simple logic.”

“You didn't answer my question” Orion points out ”How would you feel if I decided to take your advice and destroy all mystical creatures, including you?”

“I am not made to feel” straightens Prowl ”My job is to find solutions to problems. I gave you a solution.”

“You don't include yourself in the reckoning.” snorts Orion “Again. You talk as if you will never be affected by anything.”

As it should be, Prowl thinks. He's a conscientious worker and a ..seemingly law-abiding citizen. He does what he can to make Mech's lives better. Even though he may not be a Mech, he's doing the right thing. Why would something happen to him?

Orion removes his hand from his shoulder and shakes his head.

“'Alright. I've heard you. But I want to make it as clear as possible - what you suggested is immoral, cruel, and should never be implemented. Do you understand me? Never. If you want to build a better world, you cannot and will not build it on other people's deaths. Have I made myself clear enough?”

“Perfectly clear.”

“Good.”

-----------------

Ratchet looks...many words could be used to describe him.

He's standing in the center of the trial room with a lot of emotions written all over his face. But if Prowl had to describe - he'd say Ratchet practically radiates rage. Not violent. More of a powerless one.

The rage of a Mech who knows he's cornered, but refuses to even consider giving up and admitting defeat.

Prowl sits in a far dark corner, silently documenting the whole process.

The council is furious. They apparently discovered that Ratchet has been dragging wounded monsters to his house and healing them all this time.

Which is ... very much as expected from Ratchet.

Prowl wants Orion here, but both Orion and Shockwave are now on a diplomatic mission a few days away, so the only support Ratchet has is...Prowl. Who can't help in any way, so he just sits there and meticulously documents the whole process so that Orion can then be informed of every single detail.

The council doesn't look happy. They say that Ratchet is sabotaging the hunters' efforts to contain the monsters by his actions.They are angered by Ratchet's absolute determination to insist that he was doing the right thing.

Prowl would be impressed, if only Ratchet's stubbornness made sense.

It's simple math. Ratchet saves lives. Monsters take them.

Thus Ratchet's life has much, much more weight and is more valuable.

If Ratchet would just accept the Council's decision now and promise to stop curing monsters, the whole problem would be solved as efficiently as possible.

But Ratchet, of course, persists. Probably just because that's his nature.

Ratchet can also afford to be so stubborn because his skill level makes him incredibly valuable to the Council. Prowl knows for a fact that if any other medic were in Ratchet's shoes right now - they would have been sentenced to banishment or execution by now.

When Ratchet realizes exactly how the Council caught him, his rage is instantly replaced by shock.

This revelation is enough to startle him and make him back down. To nod and numbly swear that he will end his "blasphemous hobby."

Prowl carefully folds the scribbled scrolls into the case as the Council doors close behind both his and Ratchet's backs.

“Orion will be happy to know that you were prudent enough to avoid death.”

Ratchet shifts his gaze to him

“You knew? Knew they could see through our optics? Did you know they could find out anything about any Mech at any time?”

Prowl tucks his hands behind his back and nods politely

“Knowing things is my job.”

Ratchet sighs. Heavy. Exhausted. Doomed maybe.

“How does Orion deal with it...”

“Orion has a reputation with the Council. They consider him a decent, law-abiding Mech, so they see no point in keeping tabs on him.”

“Are you kidding?” Raetchet raises his eyebrows “Orion can't do everything he does and remain ‘decent’ in their eyes. He and Shockwave practically cuddle with every possible creature every day and all they get is a little reprimand????”

Prowl tilts his head

“Orion learned to look away in time. And he has me for everything else.”

Ratchet doesn't answer him. He rubs the bridge of his nose tiredly and starts to walk away.

His shoulders look oddly tense. He looks defeated, but not in the way a Mech would describe a slain turbofox. No. There is a deep-seated, angry determination.

A willingness to act dictated by desperation.

The news of the surveillance has thrown Ratchet off balance but not knocked him off his feet as the Council had hoped.

Prowl looks at his back and walks off in the opposite direction. The problems of living, feeling Mechs have always been and will always be mysterious to him.

Ratchet does what no one expects him to do.

He doesn't stage protests. He doesn't accept the verdict.

He leaves silently, taking with him only medical supplies and an old lantern.

The council is furious, turning over every stone in an attempt to find him, but all in vain.

Prowl's daily duties now include “keeping track of any possible news related to Ratchet.“

And then, no matter what he finds, report to Orion that he's found nothing.

Put on a little regular show for all concerned. Show the Mechs in the Council that Orion remains loyal and does his best to find and bring to justice any blasphemer whether it's a friend of his or not.

He is his purpose. But the more time passes, the harder it becomes for him to trace the path to the fulfillment of that purpose. He envies the golems whose only function is to scrub floors. Their lives are understandable. A clean floor is a temporary but easily attainable goal. They are happy to fulfill the goal for which they were created. And then they're happy knowing their job is done well, until the floor gets dirty again.

Prowl is walking towards his goal, but it's not getting any closer. He knows what he needs to do to get there, but the variables are constantly changing and he has to adjust his course of action each time according to new information, conditions, and Orion's opinion on them.

Politics is infinitely more complicated than mopping floors after all.

————————————

Orion doesn't turn around on him as they walk down the hall. But Prowl can physically feel the attention focused on him.

“Prowl. Did you know I was awarded today for my ''outstanding service'' by the entire Council?”

“I did not.

“They've gone through all the reports and discovered that according to the logs me and my mechs are performing excellently when it comes to eliminating mystical threats.”

“Congratulations.”

“It's funny that you feel the need to congratulate me too” Orion continues ”Because I certainly didn't give orders to eliminate anyone.”

Their pacing doesn't falter. They continue to walk calmly down the hallway as if nothing is happening. But Prowl can practically taste the increased tension.

“Prowl” says Orion “Why is the Council rewarding me for murder? And where are the Mechs they think I killed now?”

Prowl checks the scrolls. Not because he doesn't remember. Just to buy some time to formulate an answer.

“They were the inevitable casualties. I took charge of their destruction. On your behalf.”

“You know how I feel about killing.”

“I know.” nods Prowl for some reason. Why? Not that Orion can see it “I also know how the Council feels about Mechs showing suspicious activity. They would have started watching you as soon as they noticed you were letting monsters slip away from you suspiciously often.”

Orion...sounds... conflicted. He sounds struggling.

“You killed them.”

“I gave the order. As any other hunter would have done in my place.”

Orion stops so abruptly that Prowl doesn't catch the moment and bumps into his back.

“We're supposed to be better than other hunters Prowl! How can you still not grasp that concept!!!”

Orion looks furious. Prowl discreetly looks around.

Around them is a relatively empty hall. Windows covered by heavy curtains. The cleaning golems scurrying back and forth.

“I understand” he says “But let me remind you that you cannot test their trust infinitely. Your 'being better' rests on your reputation. And it's my job to make sure your reputation lives up to it.”

Orion looks at him...Prowl isn't even sure how to describe it. Usually he has to argue with Orion's logic, proving his point but this time...Orion is the one arguing with him.

It feels strange. Uncomfortable.

He's doing everything Orion wanted him to do, but for the sake of it he has to do something Orion can't stand.

Orion clenches and unclenches his fists helplessly. Rubbing the fabric of his cloak.

“Shockwave can save lives without killing anyone.”

“Shockwave is one unfortunate act away from serious consequences” shakes his head Prowl “His academy is looking more and more like his own small army every day. His students are not loyal to the Council, they are loyal to Shockwave. And the Council knows that. And will use it. And it won't be pretty when it happens.”

“No...” shakes his head Orion, not addressing anyone in particular ”No no no no no...”

Prowl can understand why Orion is upset. But he also knows he's right this time. Shockwave may look like a fine example of mercy, but he walks on the very edge of the law and any wrong move will instantly turn him from “out of the box thinker” to renegade.

The Council will come for his head and the Council will get his head because Shockwave will have nothing to prove his loyalty with.

Orion will. Prowl made sure of that.

Orion can bend the rules, can borrow the Council's trust, can do all sorts of reprehensible things. He can stumble and fall and then fall a couple more times and find that it doesn't hurt him because Prowl caught him even before he stumbled.

He did it at the cost of lives. Yes.

But Orion's life is far more valuable than the lives of monsters.

Society doesn't need monsters to become better, but society needs Orion. Monsters need Orion. Because if Orion is gone, no one else will care about his idealistic goal.

“Sometimes I forget how creepy you can be...” mutters Orion ”You're going to betray me sooner or later.”

“I could never betray you.” Prowl twitches his wing.

“You've successfully betrayed what I believe in.”

“It's fine with me if you hate me for it. As long as you are alive, safe, and can continue your quest.”

Orion falls silent.

He turns away to stare at a strip of light from a nearby window. There are beautiful, wrought iron grates that cast an intricate, curved shadow on the floor and walls.

A golem janitor hurries past them.

“I hate it,” Orion sighs.

“It's understandable. But you can't change the system from the inside without becoming part of it first.”

“I was hoping I could become part of it without becoming a murderer.”

“It's okay” says Prowl ”You don't have to. That's what you have me for.”

Orion twitches.

Shockwave falls.

Prowl isn't there to see for himself, but a lot of rumors reach him. Lots. Lots of rumors.

The Mechs say the time of the Great Hunt has come.

They say that when the hunters arrived on the Academy's doorstep, Shockwave didn't let them in.

They say. He stood in front of the gates.

With sword in one hand and the Primus Covenant in the other, and declared that his school was a sanctuary for all living beings in need of protection.

Claimed that anyone who dared set foot inside with a weapon would have to go through him.

“And they retreated!” gestures Orion frantically ”They didn't dare test him! They backed away from the walls of the Academy. I don't know how many monsters were left alive in the forests that night, but none of Shockwave's students were harmed...”

Prowl listens with a healthy dose of wariness

“The Council wouldn't just let him do that.”

Orion begins nervously winding circles around the room.

“You're right, you're right. You're right now and you were right back then. They're going to bring him before the Court by tomorrow, and...”

“There's no chance of that ending well,...is there?" Prowl finishes his thought.

Orion looks pained

“They'll be going through everything he's been up to. Every forged document, every enrolled Mech who by all criteria should be considered a monster. Every time he sheltered them from the Council instead of destroying them. They'll realize what he's been doing and they won't like it at all.”

Prowl...trying to sound reassuring.

“Shockwave has tremendous support from his Academy. There's a chance the Council will be afraid of invoking their wrath and won't judge Shockwave too harshly.”

Orion continues to walk in circles

“You think so?”

“There is a good chance.”

Prowl finds Orion in Sickbay. Which is very disturbing and wrong, because Orion was supposed to be at the Trial. Supporting Shockwave and begging the Council to relent.

But Orion is in Sick Bay. When he shouldn't be.

And he's covered in ugly dark burns. From something Prowl can't recognize.

This is all wrong. It's all--

“What happened at the trial?”

Orion sounds. Startled.

“There was no Trial.”

“What?”

Orion sounds as if something inside him has cracked. In every sense of the phrase.

“The Trial hasn't even had time to begin. He...” Orion clutches his trembling fingers, hoping to still them, but it has no tangible effect. His shoulders are trembling.

He looks like his whole body could be torn apart with one careless touch. “They asked him if he would plead guilty to aiding and abetting dark creatures. All they had time to ask was if he realized he was wrong.”

An uncomfortable, prickly feeling settles in Prowl's mind.

"And?”

Orion squeezes his fingers so hard the creaking of hinges becomes audible.

“It...I...Prowl, his very spark began to ooze dark magic. It was horrible, it was like.. it was eating him from the inside. The entire courtroom became darker than night, many Mechs got burned. I've never seen anything like this before! He..It.. started attacking Mechs and destroying everything...it was like it went crazy...it attacked me and I had to...Prowl I had to fight it! I didn't...I'd heard about it happening but I believed until the last minute that I wouldn't have to face it...”

Gears of chaotic detail fall into place in Prowl's mind.

“Shockwave...turned into a demon...?”

Orion nods shakily

“The Council didn't even have a chance to sentence him or spare him or even sort out what happened.....

He stated that he did not consider himself guilty for what he had done and...Primus was the one who made the judgment before anyone else could...”

That's... terrifying really. For a number of reasons. Losing a close friend is awful, being subjected to such merciless punishment is awful, but also...

What sends a chill down Prowl's back is the moral implication that such punishment carries.

Orion, as if reading his thoughts, raises his gaze to him

“Is what we are doing...wrong? I don't...does Primus think helping monsters is worthy of punishment?”

Now that's a really reasonable question.

Shockwave would say that Primus is merciful and would never condemn a Mech for an act of kindness. But Shockwave ended up being condemned.

Ratchet would say that he doesn't care about Primus' opinion because Primus isn't real. But Ratchet isn't here.

Prowl wants to say that it doesn't matter whether or not Primus thinks they're wrong, what matters is that he can at any moment force his justice on any living spark, so his concept of right has to become Orion's too, or else he's doomed. But Orion is definitely in no state to have a philosophical argument. He looks shattered and Prowl almost instinctively is about to go and find Shockwave, but remembers that option is no longer available.

He's not made for this. Shockwave has always been the one to cheer Orion up on a bad day. Not Prowl, no. Prowl isn't sure what to do so he just sits down next to him and gently places a hand on Orion's shoulder. The one where he can't see the burns, so it shouldn't hurt.

“I don't. I'm used to always relying on your point of view as a reference for what's right and what's wrong.”

“I know” runs a shaky hand over his face Orion “But it's not like I'm perfect. I try, god, I try but just like with the logical part - my vision isn't flawless. Have I been...wrong all this time? Trying to disrupt Primus' intended vision? Maybe what I've been trying to fix never needed fixing. Maybe it's just me being so stupid and not understanding things maybe...???”

Orion cuts himself off mid sentence, realizing that he's started raising his voice and waving his arms around again. He sits back down on the medical bed and curls back up into a miserable ball.

“What should I do....”

“I don't know,” Prowl repeats awkwardly.

He is his goal. But his goal ..doesn't exist anymore?

He doesn't know where to put himself.

Golems are made to fulfill requests. But Orion's request system has been evolving and complicating for so long that Prowl can't tell where its boundaries are anymore.

He feels lost.

——————————

Orion stops cold.

“What...”

Prowl, standing at his right hand looks equally puzzled.

They are in a spacious courtyard bordering directly on the Council building. It's a very beautiful, open and spacious place because it was originally built with large crowds of Mechs in mind. There's wide walkways, a massive circular plaza with fountains and statues.

And right now, it's filled to the brim with Mechs, most of whom Prowl is seeing for the first time. They're all wearing knight armor and carrying weapons, however still kept in their scabbards.

They look like a small army. A very, very diverse army, Prowl realizes. Because there are almost no regular Mechs among them.

Orion looks... distraught.

Mechs? Monsters? A few knights separate and come closer, bowing their heads respectfully.

“Orion Pax.”

There is so much grief and disbelief in Orion's eyes that it physically hurts to look at him.

When he begins to speak his voice sounds hoarse, like someone has poured sand down his throat.

“What...what are you doing here...?”

The knight standing in front of everyone ceremoniously places his palm on his spark.

“We are here to fulfill the last will of our mentor and your friend. Shockwave has decreed in his last will that in the event of his death his legacy must pass to you and those of us who wish to carry on his work must publicly pledge our allegiance to your will.”

Orion clutches his hands together to keep them from starting to shake again.

“But...I was there. I...your mentor was slain by my hands...how can you..."

"It doesn't matter. Everything that was his is now yours." smiles the knight sadly "We will make sure his legacy lives on. And even if the Academy falls - you can always count on us."

At the same time as he finishes speaking, the knight in blue armor drops to one knee, pulling Shockwave's sword from its sheath and holding it out respectfully to Orion... who looks like he's about to start crying.

He dazedly accepts the sword, twitching in surprise when it turns out to be heavier than expected and probably tries to say something, but all that comes out is a short sorrowful sigh.

He just.

Clutches the sword to his chest, watching in disbelief as all the arriving mechs get down on one knee following the blue knight. There aren't that many mechs, but at this point - they seem to rival the sea.

Prowl knows some of them. Many of them made their way to Shockwave after Orion found them. There's the harpy over there who nearly ripped Orion's head off the first time they met. A few ghosts he can remember the faces of but doesn't know the names. He'd had a long argument with Orion that day, trying to convince him that he shouldn't take their word for it when they promised to make it up to him.

And now they're all here. In beautiful new armor. Executing their mentor's last will and testament.

Just like regular Mechs, only a little eccentric looking.

The crowd of hunters that has come to find out what's going on looks as speechless and dumbfounded as Orion.

" What" Orion also gets down on one knee to be on the same level as the knight "what's your name?"

Prowl squints warily from behind Orion's shoulder. The blue mech looks normal, but to be honest, there's no way someone coming out of the Shockwave Academy is going to be an normal plain mech. There has to be a catch somewhere.

"My name is Skids," smiles the knight shyly. "I am...was...Shockwave's best student."

"You are very brave Skids" smiles Orion sorrowfully "I promise to do my best to take care of Shockwave's legacy. And you."

Orion drops his head on the table tiredly.

"This is crazy..."

Prowl pulls an important document from under Orion's head

"It's also quite devious. Shockwave told them specifically to swear to you where all comers can see it. So there's no way for the Council to accuse you of purposely swaying an army of monsters to your side. Everyone saw that this gift was given by force. Now you have many allies with unique skills who are loyal to you and the Council won't try to take them away because they are firmly convinced that you are loyal to the Council."

Prowl examines the document for damage before setting it aside.

"It is..."

"Shockwave gave you an opportunity."

"And I don't know what to do with it!" raises his head Orion "Shockwave was smarter than me and made a lot of plans in case of...I don't know...anything?? I didn't...Prowl. We've been down this path for so long and I was always sure there would be something good at the end of it. Or at least better than it is now..."

Orion rubs his chin and shakes his head awkwardly

"...But if there's only the wrath of Primus and endless darkness at the end...I can't ask anyone to follow me there. I'm not sure if I can keep going myself..."

He sighs helplessly

"I'm not even sure if that even matters."

"The chance that Shockwave would try to use you in some way was about twenty-eight percent."

Orion twitches

"What?"

"I understand that you're hurt by his...fate." Says Prowl "But have you considered the possibility that Shockwave was being punished for betraying you rather than the Council?"

Orion doesn't even answer at first. Just looks at him dazed and bitter.

"Prowl...no. He couldn't have."

"I'm just speculating" shrugs Prowl "Shockwave was punished but as far as I know God didn't bother to name the exact charge. We don't know one hundred percent what exactly caused his...sentence. He may have betrayed the Council's ideas, or he may have betrayed yours."

They both just exist in silence for a while. Processing the information.

"If...and I mean if!!! If Shockwave was convicted of harboring monsters, then everything we've been doing all this time can be considered useless blasphemy..." says Orion slowly "...but if he was punished for something else..."

"...then that would mean there's nothing wrong with your idea." finishes Prowl.

Orion frowns

"It would also mean that Shockwave lied to me..."

Prowl nods. The situation is ugly no matter which way you look at it.

Shockwave, as Prowl knows him, would hardly have framed Orion, but Mechs tend to go to great lengths to avoid execution.

If Shockwave had shifted some of the blame to Orion then, it would have partially saved him. Was that what he was going to do? Was this what Primus had stopped him from doing?

Orion's finials twitch slowly

"I don't know Prowl. I don't know what to do. I don't want anyone else to get hurt because of my fantasies."

Orion is hard to read, but right now he's an open book.

Prowl tilts his head

"You're scared."

Orion looks. Defeated. Crumpled.

Discolored.

" I am."

Prowl can't work with that. He's used to solving logical problems and making lists and strategies.

He doesn't know how to get someone to stop being scared.

"Is there anything I can do for you?"

"I don't know." mutters Orion "I don't know, I have no idea. It's too much...All these new knights, this whole council situation and now you're also saying that the mech I treasured the most could actually be a liar and...just leave me alone."

"But..."

"Just go away!" shakes his head Orion "Go find something else to do, find a hobby, I don't know! Get out of my head and out of my personal life!"

Prowl nods silently.

Places a couple papers in their places and silently walks out the door.

Gestures a greeting to some mech passing by.

And is completely unsure of what to do with himself.

Orion's too stunned by everything that's happened to give him a clear purpose. And without a purpose, he...he's gone.

He continues to stand by the closed door.

A thought runs obsessively through his mind.

If Shockwave was sentenced for something no one knew about, then punishing him the moment of that trial was a truly terrible decision and even worse timing.

But if Shockwave was sentenced for helping monsters...Prowl isn't sure why his mind resists the idea.

Maybe he's not being objective because he shares Orion's views and aspirations.

Maybe because he has looked at the entire square filled with dangerous monsters and has seen nothing but sorrow and respect in them.

The idea comes naturally.

Then God must be wrong.

He looks at the cleaning golems again. He envies them.

They are peace and contentment.

They are a clear and simple goal.

Probably the biggest stress that happens to them is random mechs passing by and interfering with their cleaning.

And then there's Prowl, standing by with no meaning or purpose and wishing he could throw something heavy because the one who gets in his way is an indefinable force of nature and a complex system of values and beliefs created by millions of years of cultural development....

But Primus can't stop him, can he?

Prowl is not alive. He has no emotion so that his intentions can be categorized as evil, but more importantly he has no spark so that its magic can turn him into a demon.

He is his purpose. His purpose is his god. And Primus stands in his way.

He turns around and walks away.

[qqueenofhades]

fwiw: a lot of people follow @roach-works who just reblogged yo ur comments on history, books, and authoritarian regimes' inability to indoctrinate entire populations.

I'm an ex classics major with a lot of history under my belt, who knows Rome sutmr under a corrupt oligarchy even when it coughed up a hairball like Nero or Commodus. (Of course, it helped that Rome worked on the pragmatic principle, "How can we keep society and infrastructure functioning, given that positions of power tend to be occupied by the rich & corrupt?" I like to joke that Western Rome never fell; it just became the mafia.)

At any rate, my tendency to see the US through the lens of Rome makes me a pessimist: I assume we'll manage even in a dystopia.

I'm working on expanding my knowledge of world history to counteract that, but it's great to check in with a sane historian who will help me resist crowdsourced panicmongering.

Look, as I have said, I 0% blame anyone for being scared. I'm scared. With no exaggeration or hyperbole, Shit Real Bad, and it's undoubtedly going to get worse, at least in some ways, before we have a chance to make it better. It was completely avoidable, but half of America decided they didn't want to avoid it, so here we are.

Nonetheless, as my last reblog also pointed out, there are still basic historical and critical-thinking skills that we can use here, and to acknowledge that even if it is obviously unprecedented to us, it is not unprecedented to others, and we can study those lessons and think about how to apply them to our own situation. Rome is the obvious model for a world empire brought down by corruption, oligarchy, imperialism, endless foreign wars, income inequality, economic upheaval, excessive militarism, etc etc, but it's not the only one, and the "fall of Rome and start of the Dark Ages" is one of those narratives that gets my premodern-historian rant especially exercised. By the time Rome "fell" in 476, the city of Rome wasn't even the capital of the Empire; the western capital was in Ravenna, northern Italy, and the eastern capital was in Constantinople, where it endured for another thousand years. Roman successor kingdoms were founded in Visigothic Spain, Merovingian Francia, etc., and often imported Roman law, religion, bureaucracy/administration, and nobility relatively unchanged, which is why Latin was the legal, ecclesiastical, and educational language of western Europe until as late as 1962 and Vatican II. The "Dark Ages" are likewise at best an extreme simplification and at worst exceedingly misleading imperial-nostalgia propaganda. Etc etc. I will restrain myself.

Rome dominated the (European/Near Eastern/north African) world in the way that the 19th-century British Empire dominated the actual world and American empire dominates now, at least for the moment, and thus we have to recognize that similar dynamics are at play here in a late-stage imperial decline. However, Rome did not just up and vanish in a puff of smoke one day and never appear again, and we also have to recognize that the end of empires is generally a good thing, historically speaking. Yes, absolutely a turbulent, dangerous, and traumatizing time, especially for those living within the imperial core, but still. There's also the blunt fact that America itself has been responsible for a lot (a LOT) of violent regime change, coups, overthrows, bombings, and other disastrous foreign policy interventions for almost the entirety of its existence, and we can't pretend that we are just the shining beacon of unproblematic truth, freedom, and faith that most conservatives, and a lot of saccharine American-exceptionalism liberals, tend to think. If that comes back to bite us and we have to experience the kind of political and social upheaval that we have arrantly and unrepentantly inflicted on other places in the name of our Superior Right... well.

As for the post about history books (here), that was another attempt to push back against the kind of broad-strokes fearmongering that is often prevalent right now. Again: for completely understandable reasons, but still. There is literally no way on earth that the practice of academic history, or the procession of human events, is going to be destroyed because an orange dumbass and his idiot followers took power in America for eight nonconsecutive years. Even if by some miracle he managed to do it in America and the only thing ever officially published was Heritage Foundation balderdash, a) historians in countries other than America would still be writing books about it, and b) again, literally impossible. To return to the history of Soviet totalitarianism that I was addressing in that post, I suggest that people look into the samizdat, the contraband news and literature widely shared in the USSR. They faced far more stringent conditions than we ever will: the KGB controlled access to all word processors and copiers, precisely because they could be used to spread non-regime-approved information, and dissidents had to write and circulate it by hand. If they were caught, they could be disappeared, sent to the gulag, confined in a psychiatric hospital, subject to intensive "state education," etc. But they still managed to pass it around and read it, and it would be literally impossible for this collection of Trumpster chucklefucks to exert even a fraction of this logistical and physical control, when every citizen already owns a laptop and a smartphone. The history books aren't going anywhere.

That all said, of course we are all hyper-alert and anxious and afraid, and we don't want to miss anything that might be important or dangerous or anything else. I get that, I completely do. But we still have to pace ourselves, we still have to apply critical thought and learn how to educate ourselves when something seems huge and scary and unstoppable, and I am attempting to do a small part of that on a niche blue hellsite that won the social media competition by literally doing nothing while its peers all fell face first into being corporate Nazis. The bar is low. But hey, I'm here, and you're here and you're reading it, and we will get through it. I promise.

Courage, etc.

[dragon-ashes1485]

How the RoP fandom has me feeling sometimes:

I'm already in a bad mood. I promise I'll be nice again in the morning after my mint tea. And after some sleep because it's 2am right now.

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

You want a request I’ll give you a request lol

I’m too tired and burned out to write myself but I’ll try to get back to the rps as well. No promises but I’ll try ma best

Anyway, you know that joke comic Riu did a while back? Where Lucifer mixed the TV remote and the other remote that’s connected to… Something down in Adam?

Yeah I was wondering if you could write something for that if you haven’t already, and perhaps also with a continuation? 👀

I see you 😉 And take your time! @rius-cave Based on her art

-

Adam sat on the couch waiting patiently for Lucifer, they were supposed to be watching movies together as their date night but the King of Hell hasn't come back yet. Sins meeting probably running longer than normal.

Adam would put money on it that it was Mammon running his fat Christmas tree jester lips.

Lucifer poofed into the living and started removing his hat and coat as he sat down beside Adam.

Lucifer: Hey! Sorry I'm late, the meeting was running too long.

Adam: Mammon?

Lucifer sighed: Yes, that dumb bitch never shuts up. But! I'm here now and it's movie night like I promised.

Adam smiled, they had to really plan out their date nights since Lucifer started taking his King role more seriously. Maybe one day he'll tell him how much it means to him.

Lucifer relaxed on the couch and noticed the remote was next to him, he picked it up and started clicking it pointing at the TV.

Only nothing happened.

So he clicked it more and more.

Lucifer: The hell is wrong with this thing?

Adam gasped and doubled over, the vibrations getting stronger with each click of the remote. He honestly forgot it was in there he got comfortable with it in but now that it was on, vibrating violently against his prostate it was becoming too much and he couldn't even speak.

Adam: Ahhh!! Fffffucccckkk!!~

Lucifer looked at the coffee table where the black tv remote was, he looked at the one in his hand and at Adam.

Oh.

Oopsy.

Lucifer: Hehe, Oopsy my bad Addie.

Adam moaned, his pants tight now. Lucifer needs to fucking pay attention!

Lucifer got closer and sat on his knees, he threaded his fingers into Adams hair and pulled his head back, not rough just enough to make him look at him.

Lucifer: Would you like a little help?~

Adam moaned: Y-yes.....

Lucifer: Yes?

Adam: P-please.

Lucifer kissed him and rubbed the front of his sweat pants. It was a teasing touch and Adam was going insane he needs the release so badly.

The vibration was turned up to max and Adam whined, the vibrations were going up his spine. He gasped when Lucifer put his hand in his hand in his pants and stroked him firmly a few times having him cum.

Adam: Ahhh!!~

Lucifer switched the vibrator off when Adam slumped into the couch and removed his hand.

Lucifer: You did so good baby.~

He placed a gentle kiss on his lips and ran his fingers through Adams hair until he came back to him.

Lucifer: You still wanna watch a movie?

Adam, breathlessly: Yeah......

This time Lucifer grabbed the right remote and turned on a movie with his boyfriend tucked into his side.

[awyeahitssam]

Travelling back in time is an accident. Harry isn't going to waste it.

Harry glances at the calendar and grimaces. He can't go to Knockturn today. Hogwarts just let out for Summer holidays, and he's already decided to avoid the alleys until school term starts. Just in case... well. Just in case.

He never thought there would come a day that he missed Voldemort's soul pressing alongside his own, but it would make things simpler. If he could peer into Voldemort's mind, he wouldn't have to go about things the old fashioned way. As it is, one of his spies is twenty minutes late, and he can't snatch him from work on the off chance that children are wondering around places they shouldn't be.

Burke's still alive, at least. Harry would feel his death.

It does nothing for his current situation. There will be an attack today. 3 July, 1973 was significant. The day Voldemort's attacks went from targeting the Knights of Walpurgis' political opponents to involving the public.

He just can't remember where.

He knows this. He knows he does. But the time magic takes knowledge, seemingly at random, until he's left with bits of the puzzle. Harry knows Voldemort's broken his soul into pieces, but he no longer remembers what those pieces are called. He doesn't know what they're contained in, either, except one: Slytherin's locket.

Harry really needs to get a move on with this whole defeating Voldemort early thing before he forgets who he is. Forgets why he needs to.

He takes a deep breath. There's nothing for it. Diagon and Hogsmeade are the most obvious places to stage a first attack. Diagon is the more dramatic option, though Hogsmeade would strike fear, especially just a day after the children have left the station. Which one...

Fuck. He's got no time for guessing games, for hoping he knows Voldemort well enough to predict him. The Voldemort of this time is more politically minded than the one Harry defeated, and he's losing information by the day. Who knows how much he's forgotten about his Voldemort.

He needs Burke. He needs the bloody information.

Snape would be home, wouldn't he? His mother's still alive. There was no chance Lily Evans would be sulking about Knockturn. And the Marauders? No...

It should be safe enough.

It's a risk. If he sees one of them, he's going to screw up spectacularly. He has to steer clear.

Too bad he's still got a saving people thing.

He twists through the wards and lands at the apparition point. A moment later, the screaming starts.

Turns out he doesn't need his spy for this after all.

He runs towards the shouts, wand at the ready.

He puts it to good use.

"Evans?" Charlus calls out. "Is that you?"

Harry grimaces and keeps walking. Ever since he saved Charlus's baby brother in the Dark sects first Diagon Alley attack, Charlus Potter has been dogging his steps. The very last thing he wants is the be associated with this family. He already only manages to avoid being labeled a Potter by virtue of using the Sleekeazy's hair potions to settle the characteristic chaos of his hair.

If anyone can recognise its use, it is the inventor. Charlus dared to call him "cousin," before Harry sharply corrected him. He hasn't tried since, but he still has that gleam in his eyes. That set to his jaw.

The famous Potter stubbornness. Harry would be warmed by the fact that it exists outside of himself (and he is, truly, because even if he will never claim them as such, he has family here), but it's causing issues.

"Is that him, darling?" Another voice rings out, clear and lovely. Harry keeps moving along, heedless.

"Yes love, that's our errant Potter-"

Harry spins with a snarl. "I told you," he says, stepping forward to stab his wand into Charlus' chest, the threat bald, "my name is Evans. I want nothing to do with you or your family. I'm a muggleborn, for Merlin's sake."

The woman beside Charlus looks at Harry with wide grey eyes. Aside from their shade, she looks a great deal like Bellatrix LeStrange one day will. Her hair is carefully controlled, brown rather than black, and she's dressed conservatively, as is appropriate for the time period, but. She's certainly a Black.

"Are you quite sure he's yours, darling?" she near-purrs, meeting Harry's burning gaze with a fire of her own. Like recognises like. Black madness sparks in them both.

It has to be Dorea Black. Her arm is linked with Charlus', and she calls him darling. His grandmother.

He turns on his heel and flees.

Pretends the lump in his throat is from fear instead of longing.

Voldemort's yew wand twirls through his fingers as he considers the man on his knees.

Octavian Nott has always been reliable, yet...

"Are you the only one alive?"

Nott's shoulders draw tight.

"No, Vo-" Voldemort presses his magic around the proud little pureblood who dares think to say his name after he's failed. As if he's earned the privilege. "My Lord."

"And where are the others, Octavian?"

"I don't know, My Lord," Nott tells the ground. It's clear from his inflection that his teeth are gritted.

"Oh?"

"The... the vigilante put something around each of their necks. Portkeys. He said the activation phrase when I was the only one left. They... vanished."

Voldemort's methodical movements pause. The mysterious new player on the board has kidnapped his soldiers?

Well. It was an effective tactic, to be sure, but why not simply kill them? Was it weakness, or strategy?

He couldn't help but assume it was the latter. The man - and he was that from the many memory's Voldemort's stolen, though he remains cloaked - was always a move ahead. He met Voldemort's attacks each time.

It was exhilarating. Infuriating, too. The only way his every move could be so neatly countered was a spy. Yet even after he began limiting plans to his Inner Circle, the Knights, this man still knew what he would do...

"What else?" he presses, impatience growing.

"He knocked out five men with a single stunner. It... it seemed to split, my Lord, midcast. And..."

Nott truly is testing his leniency tonight. "You will not like what happens if I have need to prompt you again, Octavian."

A shudder. How positively plebian. "I apologise, My Lord. I simply do not wish to give you incorrect information."

"It just... sounded as though the portkey passphrase was in parseltongue."

Voldemort stares down at his head. Nott's been with him for a very long time. He knows what parseltongue sounds like.

Still, Voldemort must be sure.

"Look at me."

The man does speak parseltongue.

The words "fuck you" spill prettily past concealed lips.

Voldemort obsesses.

The more he learns, the more his fascination grows.

The man performs feats of magic that surprise and delight. Simple things, weaponised. Magical control the likes of which Voldemort has rarely sought to achieve. From fiendfyre, yes, but basic spellwork...

He tries to split a stunning spell. He can still only manage three branches, and they're difficult to aim.

Voldemort keeps trying.

Keeps hunting, too.

The first time he meets him on a battlefield, Voldemort shreds the spell that normally hides his vigilante. The haze cloaking features fractures.

His eyes are unforgivably green. Voldemort almost wishes he would cast the killing curse, just to see how the shade compares side by side.

Victory. He hadn't even had to fight for the other's identity. He tells himself it isn't a disappointment. He can feel the magic this man radiates. Lord Voldemort does not need to be convinced he isn't weak.

He dips his head politely, never letting his eyes stray from that brilliant shade. "Lord Voldemort," he introduces.

One beat.

Two.

Manners, he thinks mildly.

"Harry Evans," his opponent rasps out. It sounds like he hasn't talked to anybody in some time. Voldemort notes the name. Muggleborn, perhaps? Or a half-blood, like him?

Voldemort is hungry to know more. He licks his lips. Bright eyes dart to the motion, then rise back to meet his. A silly mistake. Voldemort tears into his mind.

Or, he tries to.

Blankness meets him. Not fog. Not a wall. Nothingness.

After some heavy-handed prodding, Voldemort pulls back before he is lost in the abyss.

An occlumens as well, then.

He ducks a blasting curse shot at his head.

Time to play.

Thing is, as much as Voldemort likes to play with his food, he's always been a thief at heart.

He wants to steal this man - this Harry Evans - more than he wants to break him.

He leaves with wounds his healer must tend to. They require dittany not to scar. He accepts it for the two large, arched marks. The small one, though - a knife wound, of all things - he keeps. He can rid himself of it later.

For now, though, he has something to press when he thinks of Harry.

Besides, he's not the only one to have left with marks. If Harry is smart, he will bear his well. If not... well, Lord Voldemort is generous. He can always give him more.

His men have standing orders to flee when they see him. He's still down seventeen fighters, stolen by Harry. The next time they dare to linger, he gets three more.

It's annoying to have his pawns taken. Especially because he does not know why.

Harry could ransom them to their rich families. Could try and use them as leverage over Voldemort. Could even just kill them: but he doesn't. Voldemort can tell that much from the Dark Mark. The fact he can't communicate with them or plot their locations is interesting. Unsettling, too. The magic of his mark, circumvented.

It's been a long time since he has gotten stuck on a puzzle.

He thrills at the challenge.

He next sees Harry in his human skin. The other is in Knockturn, just coming out of a shop.

How rare. He's not often spotted in public unless he's dismantling Voldemort's plans.

"Hello," he greets politely. Those green eyes slant over to him, then catch. Like he recognises Lord Voldemort even in this pitiful mask. A part of him delights at the notion, even as he double checks his magic. It remains tucked tight to his body.

"Hello," Harry breathes back.

Voldemort barely suppresses a frown. Is the other attracted to him like this? A pity. He wouldn't think Harry one to fall for a pretty face.

Still, it could prove useful... imagine what information he could pull on a date...

Green eyes trace his features intently. Voldemort is no longer used to being examined in such a way. And then-

Then Harry's magic lashes out at him without the aid of a wand, and the glamour is ripped from Voldemort's skin. He hisses in discomfort at the sensation, taking a step forward and pressing long nails to Harry's throat.

Fingers catch around his wrist before he can make contact. Somehow, Harry is strong enough to hold him in place. Strengthening rituals rendered void. Just what was this man?

The hold does nothing to stop Voldemort from stepping into him. From leaning close to his ear once they're chest to chest and hissing, low in threat, "That was rude, Harry."

The chest pressed to his moves. A laugh trembles out of Harry's throat. He sounds a touch mad. Just look what Voldemort's reduced him to...

"Sorry," he lies. "Were you doing some shopping?"

"No."

Harry hums, disbelieving. Voldemort licks his lips and stares at the neck his fingers have been denied. He wonders how much blood he can draw with a bite before Harry manages to escape.

Harry has a habit of vanishing all the marks he gives him. Such an ungrateful creature.

If given half a chance, Voldemort will bite a collar around his throat.

Harry can't breathe.

He doesn't know how it's come to this. He doesn't understand.

Voldemort's mouth is hot and urgent against his. Nails dig into his hip and back. One of Harry's hands is angling Voldemort's chin.

Voldemort lets him. Tips into his touch. Darts a tongue out to taste him.

He shivers.

Isn't he meant to be destroying Voldemort?

A wicked thought catches in his mind.

Can I destroy Voldemort like this?

Long, powerful fingers trace a burning path up his thigh.

Undo him with my touch?

He takes Voldemort in hand.

Unmake him with my mouth?

Slots teeth against his neck when Voldemort jerks. Scrapes them down when the Dark Lord shudders.

Well. It's not a plan he's thought up, before, but-

It's worth a try, isn't it?

au where auror harry potter ends up in the marauders time period, right by the beginning of voldemort’s rise.

harry potter who avoids hogwarts by all means (the memories are too painful) and instead tries to take down voldemort and his death eaters by himself.

harry who drops his last name in favor of the common muggle last name “evans” to completely separate any ties to the potters (for their sakes.)

harry evans who keeps his distance from his mom, the marauders, and snape because he knows if he sees them he’s going to ruin something.

instead, harry evans catches the attention of the potter family (who is convinced he is a long lost heir), the blacks (who start to suspect he is a new up and coming darm lord), dumbledore (who believes the same), and the dark lord himself (who is intrigued by this mysteriously strong man thwarting his every move.)

i timetravelled to when my parents were still kids to destroy the dark lord but i became his lover instead!?

[pucksalotguys]

Unsteady

Featuring: Sidney Crosby

Enjoy chapter 1 of my new short fic, I won’t say much so you can all go on with a blind eye and get the full effect. Enjoy and let me know if you liked it 💙

It was the 3rd time that night that Sidney woke up in a cold sweat. He rubbed his face and looked over at the small clock that was on his bedside table, the one Emerson had gotten for him on their first anniversary, it was 3 am. The witching hour as he used to tease her about any time she woke up and bothered him to tell him about whatever dream it was she had. Back when life had meaning

He shook off the bad thoughts and went inside the bathroom as he settled for a steaming shower, the kind that was burning his skin. Somehow he should’ve known today would be hard yet he tried his best to push back all those negative thoughts and now here he was back at square one, mourning his dead wife

Time was fucked. Life was fucked. He looked at his reflection in his mirror and ran his fingers through his stubble. His eye bags were practically purple from all the sleep he had missed the last month. He looked like absolute shit and there was no point in hiding it. After getting him together the best he could he grabbed his bag and headed out the door.

It had only been a few months back at the apartment and slowly he was getting used to it, there was no way he’d be able to go back to his actual house. Not without Emerson. That house stayed empty, it was no longer a home after losing Emerson. He paid for it to get cleaned and kept everything in shape but actually living there again seemed far fetched. The apartment he was staying in now was all he needed, it was in a nice area and quiet and that was all he wanted

When he reached the hallway, he bumped into a woman in her late 20’s struggling to carry a large, awkwardly shaped box and watched as everything spilled “Oh god are you alright ? I’m so sorry” she apologized immediately 

He shot her a quick look. "I'm fine," he said curtly, clearly not in the mood for pleasantries “Be careful next time” “Sorry” she whispered “Uh see you around” “Let’s hope not” Sidney said back as he walked away from her

For the rest of the week, their paths crossed several times. Sidney would take the stairs, trying to avoid any interactions, but every time he did see her, she didn’t seem to get the hint he wasn’t in the mood to talk.

Finally, on a Thursday afternoon, Sidney was on his way to check the mail when he ran into her again. This time, she was standing near the door, fumbling with a package. 

“Oh hey” she said, offering her hand. "I’m Harlow, I live next door"

He hesitated for a second, then simply nodded “Sidney” he replied briefly, not giving much more

“Since we live on the same floor” Harlow continued, trying to push through the tension. “If you need anything, feel free to knock.” Sidney looked at her, his expression unreadable. “Thanks,” he said, and before she could say anything else, he stepped back inside his apartment, the door closing behind him

Harlow stood there for a moment, wondering what had just happened. Was he just a private person? Or had she somehow rubbed him the wrong way?

The next few days were no better. Harlow found herself thinking about the encounter more than she liked to admit. What had she done to upset him ? Was it her presence, the fact that she was his new neighbor ? It bothered her to no end

Finally, on a rainy Saturday, Harlow found herself staring out the window again, the loneliness creeping back. She settled for actually stepping outside on her balcony and simply stood there. Rain always brought back shit memories and more than anything it made her nervous. It brought her back to a time she wanted so badly to forget. She turned her head and that’s when she saw him and panicked for a moment.

There he was, also standing on his balcony, staring out into the mist as if was waiting for life to simply wake him up from whatever dream he was in. Without thinking, Harlow spoke first

 “It’s a miserable day, isn’t it?” she said, her voice carrying over the sound of rain.

Sidney didn’t immediately respond, but when he did, his voice was quieter, more tired than before. “I guess.” Harlow glanced over at her, unsure if he wanted her there, but something in his eyes stopped her from retreating. “You live here long ?” she asked. “It’s so plain around here”

Sidney gave a short laugh, but it didn’t sound like he was amused at all “Yeah okay” he responded before he turned away

“I get it,” Harlow said gently. “Grief’s a funny thing. It can turn even the most ordinary things into reminders of... everything you’ve lost.”

The comment made Sidney snap his head back towards her, his gaze darkened as he laid his eyes on her “The hell is that supposed to mean ?”

“I’m sorry about your wife,” Harlow said finally, her voice barely above a whisper “I know it’s been tough and I just wanted to say that I-” “Don’t mention her again” Sidney said coldly “Do you understand ? Just because you moved in and you wanna be annoying trying to talk to me all the damn time doesn’t mean I want to. Keep to yourself and stay out of my way” “Got it” Harlow nodded “I’m sorry” Sidney shook his head and stepped back inside. Perhaps he was too rude but the mere mention of Emerson did that to him. She should be alive, she should be with him. They should’ve been discussing when they’d start trying for kids, where they’d go to vacation that summer. Never did he think he’d have to live without her so soon. It was tearing him up inside and sooner than later he’d know he’d blow up

***************************************************

In the weeks that followed Harlow avoided Sidney every chance she could. If he took the elevator she took the stairs, if he was coming towards her she’d turn the other way. It wasn’t until one night that power went out in the building that she held her flashlight and walked out of her apartment only to see him slumped by his door “Mr.Crosby” she said softly “Are you okay ?”

Harlow took a step closer and flashed her phone light on him and that's when it hit her, he was drunk. She gently touched his shoulder and shook him slightly “Hey….hey Sidney, you okay ?”

“Em….Emerson” he mumbled batting his eyes open “It’s you” he moved his hand to caress her cheek “You’re here”

Harlow breathed heavily upon his touch and gently removed it “We gotta get you inside, where’s your key ?”

“Emerson why’d you leave me” Sidney slurred “I’m sorry Em, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I took longer, I’m sorry…come back please come back already”

She did her best to ignore him, looking for any sign of a key or even a wallet and found his pockets empty. For a moment she debated leaving him there or calling security to come get him but after hearing what she did on tv and how he was on sabbatical, she knew it wouldn’t be ideal so instead she took him to her place.

For once she was thankful a power outage had happened because at least then she couldn’t exactly see his face in her dimly lit living room. She lit up some candles on her dining table and sat there watching him. She had fallen asleep when she suddenly heard movement followed by cursing

“Holy shit” Sidney murmured as he tried to get up from her coach “Why is it dark ?”

“H-Hey” Harlow stuttered out

Sidney squinted as he made eye contact with her then widened his eyes “Why the hell are you in my apartment ? Are you fucking stalking me now ?”

“This is MY apartment” Harlow snapped “You’re in my apartment because you got drunk and lost your wallet and keys and you slumped right by your door like a slob. I brought you in here because I know security would have a bitch fest with you. Believe me I regret my decision immensely”

Sidney felt around his pants and pockets quickly, realizing he in fact had no wallet, keys or even his phone. He shook his head “I….I left everything back at the bar, I only had 2 beers”

“You don’t smell like 2 beers” she commented “Whatever happened clearly got the best of you, I should’ve just called security and they would have handled you”

“Why is your place dark ?” Sidney asked as he looked around “There’s no light”

“Power outage” Harlow nodded “Started around 2 this afternoon and it’s now 8 and still out, management downstairs said we’ll have it back by tomorrow morning at the latest”

He rubbed the back of his neck anxiously and nodded “I uh….sorry for yelling at you like that”

“It’s okay” she said “You were freaked out, I get it”

Sidney reached as he grabbed a candle that was on her coffee table and brought it up to his face so he could see her better “Harlow…Harlow what ?”

“Meyer” she answered quietly

“Harlow Meyer” nodded “I’m Sidney, Sidney Crosby”

“I know” Harlow responded “Thanks for helping me” he looked at her “Listen I know you probably know who I am but just….don’t mention anything alright ? I’ve been on a break and if somehow this gets to the team then they’ll ask me to take more time off and I don’t want that. I’m close to getting back and I don’t want anything fucking that up. If you want money I can give you some, just name the amount and it’s yours”

“I don’t want money,  you have my word I won’t tell a soul. I promise you” Harlow looked at him “I swear”

Sidney hesitated and nodded, looking down at his hands “So uh you’re new here ?”

“Yeah, just got here like a month ago” she answered

“You like it so far ?” he asked

“My neighbor’s kind of an ass but other than that it’s a pretty decent city” Harlow chuckled

Sidney laughed, he genuinely laughed at her comment and grinned, it seemed like it had been forever since he last did that and suddenly Emerson came to his mind and suddenly he felt like he was betraying her in some way

“Well I’m out” he cleared his throat “I’ll have some papers for you to sign tomorrow and what not” “Wait what ?” Harlow asked confused “I’m literally swearing I won’t tell anyone to your face and you’re gonna make me sign some document ?” 

“I don’t know you” he looked at her “I can’t trust you”

She shook her head in disbelief “I can’t believe I helped you out, I should’ve left you out there”

“Why didn’t you ?” he asked

“You looked a mess” she admitted “Clearly you’re struggling”

“I’m not some fucking weirdo alright ? I went to a bar, had some drinks and then when I walked back I felt it all. I’m not some alcoholic who gets drunk every day just to drink, that’s for weak minded people”

“People who struggling with alcohol have an addiction, they’re not weak” Harlow spoke “They can’t help it” “Yeah alright well I’m letting you know all I had were some beers and that this won’t happen again and I’ll have something for you to sign tomorrow” “Just leave already” she pointed to the door He hastily walked out and headed downstairs to get security to let him into his apartment after telling them he had lost his keys. He wasted no time once inside and immediately laid in bed as he reached for the framed picture on his nightstand of him and Emerson and hugged it tightly to his chest.

Today would’ve been their 3 year wedding anniversary and she was gone. Sidney was a widow before he was 40. He still remembered where he was when he got the call about her being rushed to the hospital and how he had convinced himself she was okay. How the heart attack was just minor and she’d be okay but that wasn’t true

The doctor's voice telling him she was gone played over and over in his head and soon he was crying, it was a nightmare he re-lived every single day that was taking over him. The same nightmare that caused him to fall asleep and wake up in that cold sweat every morning.

The next day he woke up and made his way to the bar to collect his wallet, keys and phone he had left behind. After paying his tab and giving the bartender a hefty check to not say a word he stopped by his usual coffee shop to grab something to eat and settled by a nearby bench on a park. It was then that he spotted her and sighed, she was like some tick that just wouldn’t leave him It was day time now and he had a better look at her, she was tall, fit with some brunette hair and seemed overly focused on counting all the donuts in her box. He finished his food and followed her for a bit and when he saw where she stopped and went in he felt his stomach drop. After last night’s fiasco and him talking down to her there she was walking into an AA meeting in the city's treatment center. He paused for a moment and looked down at his phone, his screensaver of Emerson lighting up his phone as if to tell him he knew what he needed to do. What he didn’t know was that he’d soon find out just how much Harlow understood him.

[theocddiaries]

Rouge: Come on, Abe, it's not that bad. The boiler was twenty years old, it's normal that we have to replace it. Abraham: That's not the point, Rouge. I've been here as long as that boiler, and I'm twice as burned out. Rouge: Oh, please, you're just saying that because you had to chip in and you're in a bad mood. Abraham: No. I'm too bored to even get mad anymore. It's the same thing every day. You don't believe me? What time is it? Rouge: Around noon. Abraham: You forgot your lunch, didn't you? [Rouge hisses.] Abraham: Aha. That means your brother is about to storm in, swearing up and down that he won't cook for you anymore because if you're going to be that ungrateful, you might as well spend money at the cafeteria. And then he'll leave, slamming the door. Rouge: Well— [Shadow enters without knocking and throws the tupperware at Rouge like a frisbee.] Shadow: Here, choke on it. I'm done. Tomorrow, you eat at the cafeteria, because I'm not coming here every damn day to see these miserable people just because you can't be responsible with food I went through hell to cook for you. [storms off, slamming the door] Abraham: And that's just round one. Now, he's so pissed he forgot to ask you for the visitor's pass he needs to leave. That is, unless he punches a hole through the wall, which, honestly, I'd appreciate, because at least something different would happen. Rouge: Oh, come on, Abraham. Shadow is mad at life itself, and the only reason I don’t forget my head is because it’s attached to my body. Anyone could’ve seen that coming. Abraham: Okay, then. Now, Topaz is going to show up late with an excuse that involves two relatives and a vegetable. [Topaz comes running, knocks on the door, and opens it, her face red and panting from the sprint.] Topaz: Hello, Commander. Uh, sorry for being late, but my cousin's rabbit got loose, and her mom and I were chasing it all over Square with a carrot. Hehe, well, I'll get to my post now. [leaves before they can say anything] Abraham: And now, you'll hear Rockwell yelling because someone ate her brownie, only to realize she already ate it herself and then blame everyone else anyway. Rockwell [from the break room]: Where the hell is my food?! I am SICK of nobody respecting ANYTHING in this damn pla-- Oh, wait, I already ate it. I came here for a napkin… You guys are driving me crazy! I don’t even know what I’m doing anymore!!! Abraham: And now you're going to tell me I'm just having a bad day and that I need a hug. [glances at her] [Rouge lowers her arms, scratching the back of her head] Rouge: Well, uh… look, if a job like ours has monotony, that’s a good sign, isn’t it? Abraham: Probably. But that’s not what’s getting to me. The worst part is that nobody here gives a damn about what happens to me. [Abraham gets up, looking downcast, and opens the door, stepping aside just in time for Shadow, who indeed came back to ask Rouge for the visitor's pass.] Shadow: Rouge, please, give me the-- [looks Abraham up and down]: Abraham, are you alright? Abraham: It's none of your business, gossip. [walks off] Shadow: Hope your day gets worse then, asshole. Rouge: That’s one habit I’m getting sick of too…

[kangshxrtie]

Fourteen | Professionals

"Now my tummy hurts, she's in love with her But for what it's worth They'd make beautiful babies" - Tummy Hurts, Reneé Rapp

your videography group was having its last meeting, wrapping up filming and sorting out the final details.

"have you two practiced for the kissing scene yet?" chaewon asked, her tone casual but curious.

"no, we're just gonna wing it when we film," you replied without much thought.

"are you sure that's gonna work?" she questioned, raising an eyebrow.

you shrugged. "i mean, we were chosen as the actors for a reason. we're professionals."

"i'll trust y'all," chaewon said, though she didn't seem entirely convinced.

she quickly moved on, checking in with everyone else about their respective duties.

once the meeting wrapped up, you wasted no time trying to get out of there. you had barely texted yunjin since that day, and she knew something was up. the constant voicemails asking why you were ignoring her made that obvious.

luckily, her rule about not speaking to you in public still applied. if she really needed to know that bad, she'd break it.

you speed-walked to your car as soon as you were out of the building. the moment your phone connected, two messages came in at the same time. the first one made you want to turn your phone off entirely, but the other? that one you needed to reply to.

huh yunjin (01) are u going home? can i come to u?

nien are u gone already? i wanna hang out y/n NO NOT YET where are u nien i'm standing at my car rn y/n u want me to come to u?

nien u can we can come back & pick up ur car l8r y/n OKAY heading over now

you shut off your car, taking your keys with you as you made your way across the parking lot to nien's car. on the way, you passed chaewon and yunjin walking together. without missing a beat, you made a big show of hugging nien once you reached her, and of course, she played along perfectly.

as you walked around to the passenger side, you caught yunjin's eyes. she was staring at you in disbelief while chaewon looked at her, utterly confused.

nien started the car, handing you her phone so you could pick the music. yunjin could never.

"hitting them would be double points," you muttered, eyeing nien's backup camera.

"i don't need my intrusive thoughts voiced out loud like this," she said, shaking her head.

"maybe it's a sign," you joked.

"damn, they moved too fast," nien sighed, finally able to back out.

once you two were out of the parking lot, you let yourself relax, only to immediately get another text from the one person you didn't wanna hear from.

huh yunjin (01) so u can leave w nien but can't tmb? y/n y/l/n she texted me to hang out first huh yunjin (01) so she's more important than ur actual gf now mayb u 2 are playing ur roles a lil too well y/n y/l/n weren't u leaving w chaewon anyways 🤔

huh yunjin (01) i was js giving her a ride home i was gonna go to urs right afterwards y/n y/l/n js hang out w chaewon huh yunjin (01) ur acting weird y/n y/l/n i gotta go hanging out w nien yk huh yunjin (01) we're gonna hv to talk abt this

"was it yunjin?" nien asked, noticing how annoyed you looked while typing.

"yeah, she's mad i left with you instead of hanging out with her," you replied, sighing.

"aww, you chose me over her? i feel special," nien teased.

"well, i would've chosen literally anyone over yunjin right now," you admitted.

"i can turn around and take you back, then," nien said, nodding toward the direction you came from. "go hang out with your other hoes."

"wait, no," you protested. "i wanna hang out with my favorite."

"i'm your favorite?" nien glanced at you for a second before turning back to the road.

"yeah. my favorite hoe," you finished with a grin.

"as long as i'm your favorite in something," she muttered.

"okay, you can't say it like that—now i feel bad," you said, frowning.

"i'm just speaking my truth," nien shrugged.

"honestly, though... you've been my favorite person lately," you admitted.

"yet you still won't date me," she sighed dramatically.

"stop joking, you don't actually wanna date me," you said, shaking your head.

"i'm serious," nien said, voice softer. "i'm literally just waiting for you."

you stared at her for a moment before shaking your head again. "i'm gonna pretend you didn't say that, and we're just gonna be good friends for the rest of the day."

"whatever you want, y/n," nien said with a small smile.

you rolled your eyes at nien's little smile, shaking your head as you turned your attention back to the music playing through the speakers.

"where are we even going?" you asked, realizing you never actually planned anything.

"hmm... dunno, i just wanted to steal you away," nien said, tapping her fingers against the steering wheel. "but now that i have you, i guess we should figure something out."

"you kidnapped me without a destination?" you teased.

"excuse me, but you willingly got in here," nien pointed out.

"no proof of that," you shot back without missing a beat.

"i have witnesses and text messages," she countered, glancing at you with a smirk.

"yeah? well, they're not here," you said smugly, folding your arms.

nien rolled her eyes. "okay, luckily i don't wanna talk to my witnesses."

you chuckled before tilting your head. "so, what exactly are we doing now?"

"well, since we already ate, we could get dessert," she suggested.

"that works," you agreed with a nod.

nien pulled into the parking lot of a small ice cream shop, the neon sign glowing softly in the evening light. she parked and turned off the engine before glancing at you.

“you’re paying, right?” she asked with a grin.

“you asked me to hang out,” you said, giving her a look. “i think that means you owe me ice cream.”

she sighed dramatically. “fine, but only because you’re my favorite.”

you raised an eyebrow. “your favorite what?”

nien smirked. “wouldn’t you like to know?”

you rolled your eyes but felt the warmth creeping up your neck as you both got out of the car.

as you stood in line, nien nudged you. “what are you getting?”

“i don’t know yet,” you said, scanning the menu. “maybe something classic. you?”

“something that makes me look hot while eating it,” she joked, flipping her hair dramatically.

you laughed. “yeah, good luck with that.”

nien smirked. “what, you don’t think i could pull it off?”

you scoffed. “i think i’d be too busy cringing.”

she gasped, feigning offense. “i’ll have you know, i’m very good at looking attractive while eating ice cream.”

“okay, now i have to see this,” you said, crossing your arms.

“luckily, i’m a professional.,” nien quipped, stepping up to the counter to order.

you shook your head, trying to suppress a smile as you placed your order after her.

a few minutes later, you both sat outside at one of the small tables, ice cream in hand. you took a bite of yours, but your attention flickered to nien when you heard her make a satisfied sound.

you glanced over just in time to see her take a slow, exaggerated lick of her ice cream, her gaze meeting yours with a knowing look.

“okay, stop,” you said, nearly choking on your spoon.

“what?” she asked innocently, licking her ice cream again, just as obnoxiously slow.

“that is not how normal people eat ice cream,” you said, covering your face with one hand.

“well, i never said i was normal,” she teased. “and you asked for this, remember?”

“oh my god,” you groaned, shaking your head.

nien just laughed, taking a normal bite this time. “alright, i’ll behave… for now.”

you shot her a look. “i can’t believe this is what i’ve been missing out by not becoming friends with you all these years.”

“glad we’re here now,” she said with a satisfied grin. you hated how true that was.

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide the small smile creeping onto your lips. the two of you sat there for a moment, the warm evening air settling around you as the soft hum of passing cars and distant laughter filled the silence.

nien absentmindedly twirled her spoon between her fingers before looking at you. “so, are you regretting it?”

“regretting what?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“letting me steal you away tonight,” she said, tilting her head slightly.

you let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “not really.”

her lips curved into a knowing smile. “see? i’m not so bad.”

“i never said you were,” you admitted, stabbing at your ice cream with your spoon.

nien leaned forward, resting her chin in her hand as she watched you. “you could’ve gone with yunjin.”

you sighed, looking down at your cup. “yeah… i could’ve.”

“but you didn’t.”

you looked up at her, and for once, she wasn’t teasing or smirking. just looking at you—like she was waiting for you to say something you weren’t sure you were ready to admit.

you exhaled, shaking your head lightly before meeting her gaze again. “no… i didn’t.”

she held your stare for a moment longer, then smiled, small, but genuine. “of course you chose me. i’m just better.”

you huffed a quiet laugh, unable to stop yourself from smiling back.

it was the last day of filming; aka, you and nien's final day on the project until it was time to present the video.

you and nien sat off to the side, running over your script one last time while soobin and yeonjun set up the scene. across the room, chaewon and yunjin were directing them on what to do, while keeho and intak adjusted the cameras and perfected the angles.

"you two ready?" soobin asked once everything was in place.

"yeah," nien nodded, climbing onto the bed beside you.

"just remember, act natural. we're not filming a porno, just a kissing scene," yeonjun said.

"i didn't think we were," you shot back, raising an eyebrow.

"just had to make sure you knew," he shrugged.

you and nien laughed before locking in. you two had to focus and get the scene done.

Masterlist ــــــﮩ٨ـ Next

[felixcloud6288]

Dungeon Meshi Chapter 73

This is a new meaning to "Eating your words"

Look at that giant pillow! This has probably been the most comfortable sleep the party has had in weeks.

Laios offhandedly mentioned he's borrowing some clothes from Thistle. Delgal was wearing something similar but I didn't find any panels of anyone wearing that specific coat. I bet Laios chose to wear it because it has a fur-trimmed collar. He seems to have a light preference for that design element, maybe because it was normal to wear it in his youth.

So. Many. Pillows.

I take it Marcille never drank alcohol before, or at least not in large quantities. She doesn't know what a hangover is.

They're talking about their journey almost being over (again). At least this time, we can already tell how things are going to go horribly wrong. Becoming dungeon lord is not a good idea at all, and we still need to see how the Canaries screw everything up for them.

Laios has developed an understandable fear of the dungeon rabbits. He got spooked by the bird because he thought it might be a rabbit jumping out of the bushes.

Y'know, Laios did refer to Kabru correctly back in chapters 38 and 52 so he remembered Kabru's name for at least a week. First time I recall Laios getting Kabru's name wrong is chapter 66. I want to say there were two distinct days between chapters 52 and now (57-60 and 63-72) but there's room for several days to have passed between them since the party was near the start of the seventh floor in the first day and they had climbed all the way to the bottom the next time we see them.

I wonder what was going through Kabru's mind when he saw Falin. It would indicate the party must have come into conflict with Thistle and very recently too. So now he has to be concerned about whether or not he's too late in stopping Laios from becoming the new dungeon lord.

Kabru pulled his sleeves down to hide his cuffs.

Now that I think about it, Kabru wasn't wearing his armor when he left the dungeon in chapter 38, but he had his equipment on in chapter 53. Maybe someone else carried it back through the portal or maybe he had to buy a new set when he got back.

Laios shook Kabru's hand back in chapter 38. He's not good at remembering names or picking up on people's intents, but Laios has proven he can pick up on behaviours. So even if he can't tell why something is off, he can tell Kabru's handshake is not the same as last time.

Is that what a succubus actually looks like?

I love how Pattadol's fairy always expresses Pattadol's emotions.

Chilchuck is making everything worse. He might as well have said "We used black magic on this journey." And then he never says anything else or tries to stop Laios during the rest of the interrogation.

In an alternate timeline where the lion didn't warn the party about the Canaries, this entire interrogation could have gone differently. The Touden party still needs to be concerned about the elves finding out about Marcille using ancient magic, but they wouldn't have any reason to believe the Canaries are a threat and might be willing to explain the situation.

The Canaries are a task force designed to prevent demons from escaping the dungeons, so the last thing the Winged Lion wants is for its pawns to work with the group that is specially-trained to stop it.

Why is one of the ingredients for bavarois "That one milk"? The only milk I can think of is succubus milk.

Never stops being funny watching Kabru suffer the consequences of his attempts to manipulate Laios.

That slime is the one from floor 1? They've been traveling for about a month now!!

I think Otta does have a point about the slime coming from a graveyard. Who knows what kind of bacteria is inside it.

I'm disappointed Cithis managed to hypnotize them that easily.

For someone with a bad sense of direction, Mithrun is very good at showing up where he's not wanted.

Nothing replaced Izutsumi meaning she was teleported to an open space.

back

[matteglaze]

waitwaitwait relating to the can shigaraki read ask i feel like he would need glasses? but ofc no glasses for the might leader of the LOV (+ dragging this man to the doctor is harder than one may think...) so his vision is just getting worse and so y/n just reads for him. idk i get soft when i think abt reading/cooking/doing chores that kurogiri would do for tomura.

Shigaraki makes you read questionable things

I think because of the lack of sleep Shigaraki gets, his eye sight becomes more and more strained. This is probably exacerbated because of his late night gaming sessions.

It's not a big deal, he reasons. Many people don't get enough sleep, it's not just him.

I actually think Shigaraki could get a doctor to prescribe him glasses or eye contacts with AFO's help (the man's pretty influential let's be real), but I think the reason Shigaraki doesn't is because he won't say anything about it.

He's taken loss, after loss, after loss. Sensei doesn't need to know he's struggling with his eye sight,

Sensei doesn't need to view him as something weak.

It's embarrassing, but Shigaraki is just quiet about it. However, I don't think his eye sight is necessarily bad, I feel like he's still able to read, just not if the text is really small, plus it's better if you do it for him.

"If you tell anyone about this, I swear I'll kill you.." Shigaraki grumbles, scratching at his neck as he glares your way.

You look down at him, pumping up your fist with a small grin "sure thing, boss!"

And that's how you find yourself standing next to his gaming chair, reading the dialogue from a busty girl on Shigaraki's screen. One look at her, and you can tell she's supposed to be some sort of Yakuza love interest. (actually, you know this for a fact, because her nickname is literally Yakuza-chan.)

You clear your throat and read, "Uh... Well, boss, I'm sure you need my protection— so don't worry about a thing, boss!"

This love interest sure does use the word 'boss' a lot, huh?

Shigaraki definitely does this on purpose, choosing characters that either look like you or have your mannerisms. Then he gets you to read their sickenly sweet dialogue, and it's almost like he's getting the real thing.

A cheat code that he managed to find all by himself.

"Now you guys just moved to a beach date." You start to describe the images on screen, but you're cut off once Shigaraki pinches your wrist with his pointer finger and thumb. You let out a pained grumbled, but Shigaraki just clicks his tongue at your antics.

"I can see that, idiot, I'm not blind"

"Okay...whatever you say...wait, hold on, choose this option" you lean over his body and press your finger against the screen, "this will definitely score you some love points"

Shigaraki turns your way, faces inches apart, "huh, you're pretty good at this.."

You turn your attention from the screen to him, a smug look overtaking your features.

"What can I say? The ladies love me"

"I take back what I said." Shigaraki grumbles, turning his head to the side and leaning back into his gaming chair, trying to put a distance between you two; blush on his pale face strikingly prominent. He can only hope that you don't notice.

And you don't— because after awhile you've also found yourself invested in this game, because if you're really going to stand around and read for him you may as well have fun doing it.

"Ok, now choose this option"

Shigaraki hovers his cursor over the option you suggested, 'compliment her swimsuit', but instead he chooses the other one, 'what do you think about my swimsuit'

What do you think about my swimsuit, Yakuza-chan?

"Eugh Boss.. I told you to pick the other one... No girl wants to compliment a guys lame shorts." You grumble, slightly grabbing on Shigaraki's shoulder and shaking him.

"All of our progress! Wasted!"

Even though you complain, you end up reading Yakuza-chan's (stupid name, by the way) dialogue, anyway.

"Ah, boss, I think it's really cute— because you're realize cute, wait I messed that part up, because you're really cute. My little boss, who's a... A what"

You blanch at the next words, 'who's my good little boy', and feel yourself scrunch your nose up. It took such an adrupt turn, you reread it again to yourself.

Well, you weren't aware of the fact that it was this type of game, but that's on you for assuming Shigaraki would waste any storage space downloading a wholesome otome game.

".. What, read it." Shigaraki grumbles.

You awkwardly clear your throat, averting your gaze from the screen and instead looking at the floor.

"Well, you said you aren't blind...can't you see this part.. It's not important to the story or anything"

"It's blurry"

You have a feeling he isn't being too honest, and you think to yourself, perhaps you indulge Shigaraki too much.

i know you meant reading as in like, cute wholesome reading and theyre both sitting together and Shigaraki eventually dozens off or something, but i just can't resist otome nerd tomura

[fallendev0tionvn]

I love all of these fun little asks!

Stutter anon here again~

I can definitely imagine an emotional MC during the time of tension with Clive and friend group and being completely unable to speak because every time they do, it comes out as a terrible stuttery mess

“I j-j-ju-JUST CANT B-Be-Be-BELIEVE YOU-“

I know for me that an old habit was lightly hitting myself in the thigh to kind of push the word out so my heart goes out to poor lovable Clive not being able to try and calm the MC down as the scene is painfully driven…

(Feel free to ignore! I was just fascinated by the implications of the arguments)

quick sketch with the WRONG brush but...(then they ask me why traditional is better fml)

Silas being the piece of shit he is, he'd only make the situation worse. Clive had promised himself he wouldn't intervene, wouldn't give you any more reasons to believe the lies they told you. But if he caught even the slightest flicker of annoyance on that creature's face?

Fuck the promise and his efforts.

Silas wouldn't even get the chance to make one of his usual comments before Clive shuts him up. The only problem? now he's the bad guy, the one getting suspended and the one everyone blames. But honestly? I pray someone steps in before it's too late- Clive could and will kill him with his bare hands if he lost control (lost it completely). He's let SO much slide, that would be his breaking point.

ALSO ANON OMG, I HOPE you have decent people around you cause if I ever caught anyone rushing someone who's clearly trying their best to speak? clive is me, i'm clive- except I wouldn't be throwing punches, I'd be directly pulling out medieval torture methods😾.

[fadedpath]

puts on my Friedrich apologist hat. so i have some things to say about how i'm going to write this character since he's a seemingly polarizing figure from what i can gather online ( and it isn't for his last scene lol which is another conversation entirely about gothic horror / romance tropes, being foreshadowing and a contrast to another end scene etc. etc. ). i don't think he's a bad person for a variety of different reasons, but that also doesn't mean i think he's a good person. there's ✨ nuance ✨

one thing before i explain, the audience has the power to judge him somewhat unfairly due to one key point: the POV of the movie is 99% Ellen's. we see what she sees, we know what she knows. we have that privilege to see for ourselves the horror inflicted upon her and most of all believe right at the very opening scene of the movie. ( tbh if Friedrich was more of an asshole that people say he is, he would have kicked Ellen out the moment the fits start happening and it probably would've saved his family, but i digress ghkjshgjks )

so imo Friedrich, for the time period he is in, is pretty morally average for his kind of character ( grew up in generational wealth, successful business man, etc. ). there's nothing surprising with how he acts. the first we meet him ( which is usually the thesis for characterization ), we get an idea of who he is: he loves his wife and is proud of his family, and he holds a sense of duty towards his friends. i want to point that out because some people claim he is only helping the Hutters due to some desire to self-aggrandize himself, but i don't think that's it. one of the first lines to Thomas is the man promising to pay back the loan Friedrich gave to him to help him along, to which Friedrich brushes it off, uncaring of being paid back. but the scene in which people think he's self-aggrandizing is when he points out it's at his expense that the Hutters are given a ride home after he kicked them out due to his wife now being afflicted, but i don't think he is still! i think he's bringing up all that he did for her in the sense of "i did my duty to your and yours but now it's affecting the one i love most, so you don't get to act this way towards me after all i did for you" type of mindset. was he wrong to brush off Ellen trying to warn him? yeah, but also you gotta think: it'd be really weird if he just immediately started believing her. Thomas only believed Ellen when he saw Orlok for himself. Anna, i don't think, believed her wholly but more so was simply trying to help out of love. Friedrich never sees Orlok, he only sees the very real plague that's happening to very real people that he can see for himself, who are dying ( and now his wife has it so!! ).

at the end of the day, he's the typical conventional dude of his era and is put into an incredibly unconventional situation, one that calls too much into question that he can handle at that point in the movie, and instead of opening himself up to it, he digs his heels in and stubbornly refuses to entertain it because he has bigger problems to deal with ( in his mind ). we, the audience, think he's a pig-headed fool who doesn't know any better because we see him through Ellen. but in his shoes, he sees this lady coming into his house, disrupting his family's peace, and wants her out.

long story short, Friedrich is ruled by the narrative, he cannot escape the bounds that holds him in place within it, and that's the tragedy of his character. that he realized too late, and once he did finally realize, he was past the point of no return. grieving as he was, there was no living after his entire family was annihilated. ( to which i think there is a lot of guilt in him for that, which spurs his grieving tenfold, since he didn't wake up when his family was getting snacked on, see "i will never sleep again" as he's crying on a coffin, but that's for another post hgkjdsg )

[creationandcalamityau]

Andrew and...Andrew??? Yeahhh

So I decided to draw Andrew Harper and his very outdated design. To differentiate the both of them, I'll call his old design Drew for now (even though Andrew also goes by Drew sometimes too uhhh just forget about that XD)

It's hard to believe these are both the same person.

More yapping under the cut!

The reason I wanted to talk more about Andrew and his origins in the early versions of this AU is that yesterday marked the 1st anniversary of when I created him (February 1, 2024, to be specific is when I created his first concept art) Happy late birthday buddy!!

So for those who don't know, Andrew Harper was originally going to be evil in the earliest drafts of the fanfic. He was a vengeful creature with violent tendencies. He was honestly almost as bad as Joey himself. Which is wild to think of now that he's changed completely. Drew (as I'll call him to avoid confusion) was inspired originally by the once-popular theory of the ink demon being Joey Drew. Though BATDR clearly disproves this theory, I like the concept. I wanted a character who was like Joey but not actually him.

So then I remembered, "Hey, memory Joey exists!" and wondered how Joey managed to actually create memory Joey. Because I am not sure if he has a soul, or even truly what he is. He's stated to be a ghost or in his own words "A Memory." so I took this idea and was like "There had to be a prototype for Memory Joey." Thus Drew exists.

Joey to me comes across as the type of guy who wants to be immortal in his own creation. This lore is actually still very much canon to Andrew's backstory, but it was also the same backstory for Drew, though he had hardly any depth at this point.

Drew's backstory goes as follows; He was a sort of "Prototype of Memory Joey." A clone basically, but a very imperfect one. He was very similar to how Twisted Alice acts in many parts of the plot, wanting to become better than Joey Drew himself. He was very selfish and terrible overall. Not a chill dude.

When I was writing him in Charlie's section of the Creation and Calamity Fanfic, things shifted from Drew being evil to being just another victim of Joey's stupidity. Which is how Andrew Harper was born.

Andrew Harper was created in a similar way to Drew but I changed a bit of his backstory, providing him more of a personality than just "Angry Employee Who Got Screwed Over By Joey Drew" which was basically all he had to him. Andrew really started to grow on me while I wrote scenes with him in them. I got attached more to him being something other than an evil creature.

The whole thing about him being a clone of Joey is kind of less explicitly there in his current design. I like to believe it's because Joey is not smart and didn't realize it wasn't going to work.

Andrew himself actually doesn't really have many features of Joey at all, in fact, he's got more features from the Ink Demon than Joey. Kind of funny how that works. If I'm being fully honest I have no clue how the process of making someone into an ink clone of yourself works so this is really vague on purpose uhhhh yeah...

Andrew like Drew was also seen as a failure by Joey Drew, however, Andrew was mostly angry about the fact his identity was ripped from him. Drew was angry because he wasn't perfect.

I prefer Andrew over Drew. Andrew is more tragic than just evil because, idk he's angry or whatever Drew had going on.

For those who actually have no clue about Andrew Harper and have not understood a thing about this post, that's okay. I can try to summarize his current lore for you (Without going into too much detail cause his prequel will do that)

Andrew Harper is my oc and a major character in the fanfic for this AU. Andrew was an animator at the studio and a cartoonist. He was a hard worker, got things done on time, overall a good guy. He met his future wife Delilah after she was hired as an animator at the studio as well and took the vacant seat beside him.

The two of them got along well and Andrew clearly was very terrible at hiding that he had a crush on Delilah. Delilah and him both got married on May 6th, 1936 and got the date engraved in their wedding rings (THIS IS AN IMPORTANT DETAIL.)

As the studio starts going downhill and the checks don't seem to come in on time anymore, Andrew gets asked by Joey Drew for a deal of sorts. Andrew is reluctant but agrees, confused as to why Joey would pick him. There wasn't really any reason for him to be chosen, Joey just sucks.

Without going into far too much detail, the next thing Andrew knows is that he's become an ink creature. He is deemed as a failure by Joey who locks him in a room for the time being.

One day Andrew hears Delilah asking Joey about her missing husband and Andrew is unable to leave the room to tell her he's still alive. Joey lies to Delilah and basically just tells her Andrew is dead (he just says he's not sure but essentially Delilah takes it as he's dead for good)

Somewhere down the line, Andrew breaks out of the rooms Joey keeps trying to put him in, and he runs off into the studio, finding his way into The Cycle. There he struggles to remember who he once was.

The majority of his prequel story I will one day write will explore what he does during this time along with how he and Delilah met and all that.

During the main events of the fanfic he serves as a friend to Sammy and Charlie and helps them escape Twisted Alice and ends up remembering his past a bit more as time goes on.

He later on reunites with Delilah who is now a Lost One and they, after the events of Wilson taking over the cycle, take over what remains of Sammy's cult of followers. (THE LOST ONE SUPPORT GROUP is what it basically is now lol)

But yeah that's him. The silly guy. Feel free to ask questions about him lol. I don't mind. I am horrible at explaining things sometimes so I hope this was clear enough.

I have no idea what this post is but I'm giving it a new tag probably "From the Archives" will be the tag. All oc yapping posts are going to be tagged this from now on.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Lan Wangji Goes To Lotus Pier AU: Part 3: Enveloping Feelings.

(Part 1, Part 2, Part 4)

[faggotry-enjoyer]

thinking about how so much of the left spent so long making dual loyalty accusations that so many jews had to reiterate that "judaism != israel" as in "just because i'm jewish doesn't mean i support anything and everything the israeli state does wtf" only for the left to turn around and start saying "judaism != israel" as in "israel has nothing at all to to do with judaism" as in "any and all discussion of antisemitism with regard to israel is irrelevant derailing" (at best) and have the gall to act like they're saying the same thing because those are the Right Words, right? forced them to put up a shield only to rip that shield from their hands and beat them with it. vile. fucking vile.