#That'll go down well with everyone involved!!!

[mullermilkshake]

A lasting impression - Part three

Part one, Part two, Part three, part four (Coming soon)

Wife! Reader x Yakuza!Sukuna MINORS DNI 🔞 - Tags: NSFW, Wife! reader, Yakuza AU, established relationship, mentions of blood, gore, violence, kissing, heavy petting, smut to come.

"Sir," Uraume waited by the door of the car and opened it for Sukuna's exit.

"Where is she?" he slipped out of the car and moved with purpose towards the double doors of headquarters.

"Your wife is waiting for you in her study. I applied the necessary first aid and after care myself."

"Good. that'll be all for tonight, Uraume."

Sukuna left them behind and made his way towards his personal quarters towards the inner part of the property, private enough to scream bloody murder and no one would hear unless he wanted them to.

The only place in Ryomen headquarters that no one other than Uraume was permitted to enter.

A place where you and him could converse freely and live life as though the Yakuza world wasn't just waiting outside those outer doors.

No one dared to even look him in the eye when he marched himself down the hallways and left nothing but the padding of his bare feet on the wine red carpet to match the red all over his body.

Perhaps that was why everyone he passed looked away and bowed far deeper than usual. Not that he minded it at all. It was just the way things happened, including how he was covered head to toe in the blood of his enemies.

When Sukuna arrived at his private quarters, you were right where he expected you to be, sitting at your desk writing something in your leather bound journal.

He entered without knocking, knowing the ins and outs of the study with his eyes closed, knowing the art ladened walls and antique gold lined vase off in the corner like it was his own office. For no one, not even Uraume had access to.

You didn't initially react to his presence, still writing and nursing your cheek with an icepack. "Did you get it all out of your system?"

If it wasn't such a serious time, Sukuna would have chuckled at your attitude seeing as you knew him so well.

"For now," he closed the study door and made his way to the desk. "let me see your cheek."

He stroked the back of your hand with his index finger which prompted you to close your journal and settle the icepack down on the wooden surface.

"Are they dead, or just gravely injured?"

The bruising had taken a hold of your flawless skin, bright red and purple from impact so disgustingly placed on display for all to see. It stoked the pit of lava in Sukuna's stomach enough that he could go out and punch the next person he saw just to quell it for just a second.

It took a moment of loosing himself in your eyes for you to respond to the silence. "I don't think I need to ask, actually. Did you leave a note per chance?"

Sukuna thought back to Awasaka's disembowelled abdomen. "Of sorts."

His knuckle moved and grazed your cheek, dragging slowly and barely brushing past the injured skin so as to not cause you further pain.

Fuck, you were so beautiful. "This won't happen again. And when I find everyone involved, they are going to wish that they endured a quick death when I'm through with them."

Then, you responded to Sukuna in a way that caught him off guard. "Do what you need. Though if it pleases you, I hope you'll let me watch."

Now you weren't opposed to him using violence. You had seen your fair share in the time that Sukuna had known you, it was a fearless part that drew him to you in the first place. But openly asking to be a part was nothing you had voiced before.

He leant against the desk, propping himself onto it to look at you more clearly. "If that is what you want."

And for some reason, Sukuna felt that down to his very soul.

A characteristic that made him fall in love with you all over again.

The way you looked up at him just now, though he was still drenched in Awasaka's blood. Something lustrous and hungry, excited and feverish for an outcome only he could provide.

Sukuna would have given everything up to ensure your safety. His little kingdom, the wealth the Ryomen clan had accumulated, even his life.

Anything for you. Everything.

"I very much want it."

His strength, confidence and brash nature were traits that interested you, things that drew you too him like a bee to flower petals, just watching him from the background with your own perfect traits that collected Sukuna with magnetism.

You could handle yourself physically and most importantly, mentally. There wasn't a time he had ever really seen you loose yourself or seen you display emotions that were drastic. You didn't even loose your temper like people expected a person to.

Right now he knew you were seething, though from an outsiders perspective you were just sitting at your desk asking questions.

Sukuna's hand had cupped your cheek softly and cradled you, his thumb rubbing just short of your ear. "Then you shall have it."

It was rather abrupt, again, being out of the ordinary for you. You shot up from your seat and moved close to him, close enough to plant your palms flat on the desk either side of him.

"Good. Because I'm rather disappointed that I missed out on the show," you nodded to the red bloody marks all over his clothes and hands. "To think you did all this for me and I never even got to see the fun."

Shit. For a moment Sukuna was dumbstruck. Only for a moment before his cock did the thinking for him. If he was a better man, he would have showered first before touching you. but seeing you as you were, pressed close with your chest rising and falling stopped him thinking rationally.

What could he really say in response to that?

"Was it painful?" you eyed him closely, tracing your finger over his chest.

"Yes."

"Did they make you work for it?"

Sukuna finally found his footing and traced the curve of your hips under his palms. "Hardly."

"That's good," getting closer, your lips barely brushed his own, the splatters of blood never deterring you. "An easy fight can be pointless. But it still sure does work up an appetite."

Not even a second more, Sukuna did not allow you to breech the gap between you, he yanked you towards him so quick that teeth almost clashed together and took your lips like he was an extension of you.

He was going to have you right there over your desk.

Sukuna pulled away momentarily, scrunching your hair between his fingers as he inched up the back of your neck. "Having you, leaves me ravenous."

"Have your fill then," your teeth pinched at the edge of your bottom lip.

So he did, in a fluid motion Sukuna turned around and had you on the desk with your back flat against it. Objects and stationary slipped and crashed off of the desk along with the icepack.

Your hips were flush against his, legs wrapping passionately around his waist. His crotch was straining against the material already, begging to be let free right between your legs. The supple skin plush of your thighs sat like velvet under his fingertips, reacting to his touch with shudders.

"Who knew that getting your own way could make you even more tantalising?"

You were spoilt. Sukuna had spoiled you. And he loved it.

Everything and anything you asked, you got. Because he would always give in no matter how outrageous the request was.

Though you never asked of much. Just him.

It was Sukuna who gave you everything. And then you had requests like this.

To see you witness himself at his worst, covered in blood and full of rage so much that he enjoyed it. Absolutely jaw droppingly insatiable.

Much like now since most of the blood had dried, yet some still transferred on to your skin. Your slender fingers clawing at his shoulders leaving red in the fingerprints.

His thumb traced the edge of your jaw, noses rubbing the other so that his lips ghosted over your own. In the six years you had been married two him, he had a good grasp on what you were thinking.

Your eyes watching him with adoration, did his look the same?

He loved you so much.

"Love me," you said, showing the smallest hint of vulnerability.

And he would, ten times over.

[soultek]

Lover. Fighter. - A Concept

Everybody says there's two kinds of hearts Where one loves and one goes to war I know, it's not easy or that simplified, no But you and I are on each others side I know, it's not easy or that simplified, no But don't you know that I'd lay down my life

I will be your Lover. Fighter. Harder. Higher. Lover. Fighter. I wanna fight for Lover. Fighter. Under fire Lover. Fighter. I wanna fight for love

--- [Playlist] ---

Word Count: 1879

Concept: After being released into the world on the anniversary of Markus’ Hart Plaza march, the RK900 model is sent to Detroit PD. Said to be deviant proof, many want to test that theory... But there are more pressing matters, threats to lives in D.C. due to the ever increasing number of protests lead Nines to his first real test. And she doesn’t like him much, either...

Warnings: Mentions of violence and death threats. 

A/N: This is only a prologue to the above ‘concept’ I have some more info for you in the tags though! 😊 Had to post this for the anniversary! It’s been in my drafts since May 9th 2022... 😅

---

In the just over 18 months since Markus’ march on Hart Plaza, plenty had already changed in the world. That was just in the immediate circle of the movement and their allies within Detroit Police Department. Connor hadn’t given up his role as a detective, and nowadays he had almost as many rights as his human counterparts – give or take a few, Markus and co. were in Washington D.C. seemingly every other weekend negotiating something or other.

Cyberlife had turned into something more of an android repair shop and upgrade centre. Those who chose to remain with their human families certainly needed such things – and those who didn’t could still drop by. Even with Jericho also open to welcome and service all commers. And – like it or not – certain androids still needed to return to Cyberlife for such tuning. Connor being a prime example – though these days he hardly ever went unaccompanied. And, Kamski was more or less back in the driver’s seat, so… it was unlikely anything untoward was going down.

With one notable exception. Nines. The RK-900 model was released exactly a year after Markus’ revolution – that was no coincidence. Cyberlife had been working on an android that was impossible to turn Deviant for a long while. They weren’t just going to lock him away. No, instead Nines (as he was now affectionately dubbed) was shipped out to the central precinct of the DPD to be the very last machine. Even if he was the first of his kind. The most advanced model cyberlife had ever created – and at least as far as the foreseeable future was concerned, the last model to ever be released. He may not have been a prototype – but he was damn near as cold and efficient as Cyberlife had wanted Connor to be. And also eerily looked like him, which had caused many to steer clear for Nines’ first few months on the job.

Though, considering for some insane reason he’d been paired up with Gavin Reed, it was fairly understandable why anyone would want to steer clear. Try as Gavin might to protest it, no one budged and try as he might to insult his partner into giving up, Nines was unflappable. But, had a sense of sarcasm where it was never quite easy to tell if he was joking or just plain being mean. (When he was talking to Gavin it was nearly always the latter).

Markus and Connor – what with the power they had to deviate android models as prototypes - had always talked of doing something about it. Regarding testing if Cyberlife’s “incorruptible” android really was all that. But Ilyana – Jericho’s sole Human ‘member’, for relation purposes – was always adamant that if Nines were to turn, it would have to be on his own terms; his own realisation, just as it had been for them. She had been the one to first call him “Nines” instead of his model number, and he’d duly adopted it. If he could show any form of affection and emotion, it was usually to her. Which is how this sudden change in plans had really come about.

  Paige Carlin, CSI, was one of the people who had taken a long while to warm to the new presence in the precinct. She liked androids well enough, but… considering her situationship with Connor it was never going to be easy getting used to someone who looked almost identical. As she stepped into the office this morning however, having just about got used to his presence, she found Nines standing at his desk with a box – packing. She raised an eyebrow, stuffing her hands into her pockets. This was unexpected, and sudden, he’d not said anything about moving. Glancing to Connor and Hank, she found herself none the wiser, they were both working at their desks seemingly unbothered (though, Connor would probably like being the only android in Central again.)  

She approached Nines slowly, not to seem nosy but only appropriately curious. “Where are you off to!?” He looked up, gave a slight nod to acknowledge her – his version of Good Morning she supposed, and then went right back to packing. “I’ve been reassigned.” Paige almost couldn’t help but raise her eyebrows in shock, “T- To a new precinct?! Where are you going? We’ve only just got used to you being here and integrated, and they’re making you leave?! That doesn’t seem fair!” Although, she could assume with almost 99% positivity that Gavin probably had something to do with it – despise Androids as he still did. Paige had issues of her own with Nines’ partner. Ex-Partner. Even though the android seemed pretty unbothered by this change of plans, Paige couldn’t help but glare into Gavin’s back. “We’re all gonna miss you! Especially Gavin but I’m sure he’ll get over it - after 2 weeks of uncontrollable crying.” She was impressed with herself, less than five minutes in the office and already able to get digs in at her least favourite co-worker? Must have been a new record. The man in question turned around and shot her a look. Needless to say, she wasn’t his favourite person either.

This time Nines stood still, giving her his full attention, to address her question properly. Which she appreciated, even though his blue eyes were still unnerving. Did CyberLife really have to make them THAT blue!? She thanked God sometimes that he at least didn’t have the same voice they’d given Connor. There was the same kind of tone, same rhythm, but it was a little deeper – and he pronounced words and letters ‘properly’- The ‘t’s and ‘g’s, in particular, were never dropped. “I’m going to D.C.” Paige stalled for a second - well, she hadn’t been expecting that. “Washington!? Wow. What!?” Nines nodded, looked like he was about to hesitate telling her something and then decided to say it anyway, “More specifically, the White House.” “The- the White House!?” She spluttered, eyes wide, before collecting herself. Actually, that seemed very logical. “Well, yeah, I… I guess with all you can do that makes sense! Security?” He blinked once, straightening to his towering full height; “In a way.” That was Nines’ way of politely asking her to drop the questions before he started telling her everything was classified. Paige merely nodded, understanding. “I guess they… didn’t really build you for…” She waved her hands at the station floor, “this! A lot of wasted potential in your design just being here!” That was true. Connor had been built for police work, for all intents and purposes, Nines had been built for war.

Speaking of her favourite android, from the other side of the precinct Connor couldn’t help but look up, a little hurt. Paige didn’t even need to see him to know this had occurred and pointed back at him, “I knew you were gonna take offence to that!” Connor looked from her to Nines and back, head tilted, “I didn’t even say anything!” She looked back at him with a wink, “Babe, I know you!” Before turning back to Nines with a smile, “Congrats boy, you’re going places! You’ll have to remember your friends back in DPD central precinct when you’re up in the lofty heights of DC political society!” What ghost of a smile emote she presumed CyberLife had coded him with for ‘happiness’, Nines gave her in return, “I’m sure I’ll be back visiting – it’s not like Detroit isn’t a political centre itself these days.” The ‘what with’ was left unsaid, but in unison they both managed:

“Markus.” Before Paige nodded again, “Makes sense! You’ll have to let us know every time you’re in town! Does Ilyana know, she’ll be upset for sure!” Nines – as Paige predicted – managed to make his smile a little more genuine at the mention of said woman. It almost reached his eyes. “Yes. I was discussing things with her recently, in fact she is where this comes from.” Paige’s eyebrows raised again, this time she leaned forward onto his desk, “From Il- no, I changed my mind I shouldn’t be concerned if she’s upset! I should be blaming her!” She took a breath, and chuckled, “I’m kidding, this will be great for you! I hope you enjoy it!” If he even knew what that meant. Still, Nines responded as expected. “I’ll do my best.”

There were a few seconds silence that followed, but the intent stare that Paige was giving him told Nines all he needed to know. Exactly what she was asking when she wasn’t even asking it. Nines could read her like a book. “I can’t tell you what I’m doing there, Ms. Carlin - it’s classified!” There was the word she expected, but it disappointed her all the same. Couldn’t he make an exception for the group of people here he might be able to call friends? Ilyana would probably know – but getting anything out of her would be just as hard, Paige would reckon. Connor quirked an eyebrow, still listening into the conversation. Eyes flicking to his computer. Classified? Yeah right - he could have that file cracked in two seconds and Nines probably knew it. Paige would likely know the information she was after before he even got the chance to leave the building. Still, as far as Nines was concerned it would remain classified if he hadn’t told her.

Truth was it wasn’t just any normal type of security Nines would be heading to the White House for – and it wasn’t really government work either. With Androids gaining their own rights there were obviously a lot of people who, having previously had problems with Androids when they were viewed as ‘machines’, had even more problems with them now. Anti-Android protests and groups sparked up across the country and whenever they were on the news, they were a great point of contention. Usually this was the point that Nines would hear Hank and Paige swear most and turn off the news so as not to get so mad they’d put their fists through the screen. On the other side of things there were the pro-android groups; those supporting the android movement, who felt like the government weren’t doing enough, even when they were working in collaboration with Markus. Mostly the protesting was non-violent but, that didn’t mean they all were. And, during all of this the president had received a number of death threats. Warren wasn’t so concerned about herself – she had the best of the best in the secret service guarding her.

What she was worried about was the number of credible threats against her daughter’s life. In the hope that they could sway her decisions one way or another. Having offhandedly mentioned this to Ilyana one day on a visit, Markus’ young, quick thinking, human relations partner had the perfect solution. The most advanced model CyberLife had ever created? Virtually indestructible? Not a deviant? (In fact, Nines was programmed to patch any potential source of deviancy – hence unconvertable.). Paige was right, his talents fit him in the DPD fine, but they were wasted. A few weeks and negotiations later Nines found himself assigned to be the personal bodyguard to one Ms. Rie Warren.

And he believed he was looking forward to it. ---

Thank you for reading! Happy Anniversary DBH! 💙

[hypewinter]

There is an information blackout on Amity Park and the GIW are indeed involve. But not in the way most expect. They think ghosts are involved and the GIW have been trying to break the blackout in increasingly unhinged ways. Like a missile to the Ghost Zone unhinged

Ok so we're going for the ghosts and ectoplasm in the air create a natural blackout route? Naturally the GIW think they're helping. They think they're freeing the people of Amity Park (by any means necessary). At first they try simply eradicating the ghosts. But they quickly realized that the random stragglers they've been capturing aren't the true source of the problem. So they track a ghost back to the source and find something far stranger than their wildest imaginations: A portal to a space LEAKING ghosts and ectoplasm. So that's why our methods weren't working! Nothing to do with our incompetent. Nope nothing to do with that at all.

One eviction of a family of four and a quick relocation of their gear later and the GIW is ready to free this poor impoverished town. The GIW set up bombs around the inside of the portal and set them off in triumph..... Except the portal doesn't close. Hmmmm that was weird, they must've all been duds. Welp! No matter we'll try again. But the explosives don't go off this time either. As it turns out, the zone seeped out all the energy of the bombs before they had a chance to explode. Honestly that seems a little unfair but fine, they'll just unleash something on the portal that'll destroy it before it can suck up all its energy. A grenade should do. No big deal.

Or perhaps a big deal indeed? Because the grenade also ends up losing power before it takes out the Ghost Zone. No no no! The GIW is getting desperate. Nothing is working. Not the rocket launchers, not the tank rounds, not even the missiles. Meanwhile their superiors are constantly breathing down their necks and the people of Amity Park are getting more and more uncooperative by the day.

Why!? Don't they see we're just trying to help!? Why do they insist on us leaving!? Why are they starting to protect the ghosts!? Oh, we get it now. This whole town has been corrupted. You don't live this close to a portal to another realm without getting contaminated. That's why they're siding with these things. Because they're becoming more like them everyday. The people of Amity Park are all too far gone. They cannot be saved anymore. But this Ghost Zone must still be destroyed. To prevent it from affecting any more people.

Say.... if these people have already become inhuman and we need a blast big enough to destroy this place once and for all, can't we just.... you know.... nuke it? Hey yeah. That's a good idea, let's do it.

----

While the GIW have been devising up ways to destroy the zone, Danny has been working hard himself. For starters, he capitalized on his parents newfound hatred for the GIW to reveal himself. Which went well all things considered. Then he and the others set to work showing the townspeople how much more destructive the GIW were than the ghosts (which honestly wasn't very hard). Day by day, they continued to show everyone that the ghosts weren't so bad and were actually even quite similar to themselves. Day by day they won everyone over to their side. While they did so, they spied on the GIW, continuously using the intel they gained to sway more people. It was during one such spy mission that Danny uncovered what the GIW had planned. The horror they wanted to unleash. Yet he can't stop it alone. No, there's not enough people and not enough time. There's only one option he has left.

----

It was supposed to be a standard meeting for the Justice League. For once all things were quiet (that should have been their first red flag honestly). All they had to do was get through one last debrief from Batman and they were all home free. That is until a boy phases through the table, begging for their help to save his species from ah annihilation.

[illusivedelights]

Call of Neighbors (T141 Neighbors!AU)

Hello,yes, I'm insane ✧⁠◝⁠(⁠⁰⁠▿⁠⁰⁠)⁠◜⁠✧. This is my personal take on what T141 would be like as neighbors ! This has been prattling around in my head a lot and I just need to get it out.

Shoutout to @ghouldtime who inspired some details for the lads! (please check them out they're so detailed with everything they write ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ)

Price

He isn't seen around too often. People wonder if he's home at all at times given how much he spends so much time out of his home. 

When he is home, he stills keeps busy! Never seems to sit still. (If a movie is playing, he'll still be doing something else).

Very skilled man though, if you need help around the house he's probably the first person you could call. 

He's the first one to respond to trouble, he'll usually be the first at the scene. But depending on what it is.......it comes at a .......price (especially if it involves any of the T141 lads. That'll cost extra.)

Tragically, he's seen as neighbor dad. He grumbles a lot about not even being old or a dad really but he doesn't help himself.

He's polite but he usually will rush off to do whatever next if he doesn't really wanna talk. But if you do get him talking, congrats you definitely got his attention. 👀. Offers to help you despite his busy schedule.

Hobbies

Reading

Carpentry/woodwork

DIY/maintenance

Homebrewing

Contracting

Playing COD (Gaz: "Cap, you need one hobby someone your age does.")

General Perception:  

The Nice Handyman Next Door who is always busy but he manages to make time if you really need help.

He's nice, but......there feels like something behind those crinkled eyes, something most people know not to push. Lordhelpyouifyoudothemanhasatemper.

Some local kids joke he's secretly a hitman (and well......they're kind of close).

Mr. Fisherman (it's the beanie. He doesn't even fish LOL)

Gaz

He is definitely the most approachable out of the whole team. He's actually pretty popular around the area and people come to him often!

He has such a handsome, young gentleman aura; the older ladies just eat it up when they see him. (He honestly uses this to his advantage if he wants to know anything that's going around the neighborhood.)

When he doesn't feel like being bothered, you'll notice he switches his wardrobe moderately and he has a different air around him.

He's actually really good at things he puts his mind to, without realizing it. It only adds to his charm.

He probably knows a lot of places around the neighborhood and could give you a recommendation if you need one.

He tends to be very polite and interacts pretty politely with everyone. Just a decent balanced interaction.

It's very subtle with Gaz. It's in his smile. He has a polite smile but if you notice it's a little different,his eyes are crinkled a little more, maybe the laugh is a little more hearty too, yeah :'). May volunteer to take you out to a place he knows.

Hobbies

Movie Watching (probably has seen some obscure ones he would share with folks)

Trying New Eateries

Video Games (he's insanely good on accident; can back up the massive shittalking. Introduced COD to Price LOL)

Walks/Exploring Surroundings (all the people interacting would give him more knowledge and he scopes it out)

General Perception

The Handsome Nice Young Man Who is Very Polite.

Neighborhood Model™/Heart Throb.

People wonder if he's a little too nice and if there's something else underneath (there is but he's not going to show it obviously).

Mr. Photogenic Smile.

Soap

Honestly he's actually very intense. Can be very unapproachable since he actually wears a serious expression all the time and he has to remind himself to actually not wear that expression outside of work or if he doesn't know you.

But once that guard is slightly down/the persona comes through, wew lad. Hope you're ready for a troublemaking, mischief seeking man. Man's a menace.

He puts his heart into everything he does. He is a commit or quit to the bit type of man.

Dudebros honestly probably flock to him a lot because of his outside hobbies and personality.

He may playfully make comments with the ladies but he doesn't want it to go too far. They definitely admire him though.

Don't be fooled though. He can change it at the flip of a switch, when it comes down to business, it's down to business.

Honestly even if it was a persona or supposed to be done playfully, you can tell the more it feels like he's your new roommate (more playful flirty banter, more inviting himself over, more teasing. It's over if he steals your food, he lives there now.) And if it's really serious, you'll see a much more serious, intellectual side of him.

Hobbies

Hitting the gym

Football (I think he could do both tbh and it's fun to get the competitive energy out)

Traditional art (drawing, painting, you name it. It's a surprising side of him but he enjoys it)

Barhopping (he would want a good pint and prolly likes the environment when there's a good game to catch)

Learning (Honestly really smart at things he specialized in, but he's trying to expand common knowledge things.)

General Perception

A Very Fit Loud Scotsman Who is The Bro To Bro.

People kinda think he's a meathead, womanizing jock at first glance, but he wins them over slowly and shows otherwise. (Unfortunately it happens a lot)

Mr. Tenacious

Mr. Punk.

Is he angry underneath all that ? (He is, don't ask about it)

Ghost

Of course he is the most mysterious and most reserved of the whole lot.

He's very quiet because when you put him in a normal environment, he legitimately doesn't have much to say unless the opportunity comes up for him to be smarmy or crack a joke. Unless he's talking to one of T141.

King of one liners tbh.

People make a lot of rumors about him given what they don't know of him, he doesn't let it bother him really.

Not a lot of people really approach him but when they do, he does give them the time of day. It's usually someone trying to vent about something. Someone probably did it and let others know he's surprisingly a good listener? He gives a comment or two if he feels it's warranted and usually they appreciate it.

If he doesn't pander it, he doesn't stop, he just keeps going what he's doing. Honestly has a decent read on bullshit and won't pander.

You'll know because he will hang around a lot. He won't say anything because he would rather strangle a man out before that but he'll also remember an obscure small detail you mentioned and he's gonna try and make you laugh in a subtle way.

It's also in his eyes. He is gonna have a very soft look. Ignore the rest of the body language, it's his eyes. RIP IF YOU HATE EYE CONTACT LMAO.

Hobbies

Movie Watching (Him and Gaz probably swap ideas, he surprisingly gets interested in narratives)

Reading (He probably has guilty pleasure short stories, you won't convince me otherwise LMAO)

Community art (Soap probably dragged him into one event and the old ladies begged him to come back. He doesn't go often but only if he feels it and it's just the older hens. Theydontgivehimshite)

Skulking about

Cooking (cooking in the sense he's trying to figure out how to make things that's palatable in the field in extremely dumb conditions)

General Perception

Spooky Scary Skeleton Man Who Should Not Be Approached

Mr. Big, Tall, and Scary

That Broody MF who doesn't talk enough.

Edgy man who thinks he's better than everyone.

Mr. Sexy (ALLEGEDLY...)

They have other hobbies and stuff beyond what I typed of course, but I wanted to try and give them something more.... normal given the AU?

Part 2

[cosmerelists]

Cosmere Fake-Dating Pairs That Could "Plausibly" Happen

As requested by @room-temperature-orange-juice :)

Sanderson doesn't seem to go for fake dating all that much. But here are some scenarios that could TOTALLY happen if he did want to incorporate some fake-dating comedy into his books...

1. MeLaan & Marasi

The Scenario: Well, they obviously need to go undercover to solve a case, perhaps to a ball or a party or a wedding where it makes the most sense to pretend to be a couple

MeLaan (currently in a woman's body): All right. Let's do this! Marasi: U-Uh, MeLaan? Are you sure that's the...best body for this operation? MeLaan: Shit, you're right. Hang on! MeLaan: [Returns as a much more voluptuous woman] MeLaan: Now everyone will know that you can pull. Marasi (deeply red): T-THAT'S NOT WHAT I MEANT

2. Kaladin & Szeth [Rhythm of War spoilers but NO WAT preview spoilers]

The Scenario: Well, we know that Kaladin and Szeth will be going to Shinovar on a mission. Let's say Szeth needs to explain why he's brought a stone-walker into his homeland. The obvious explanation is that they're dating!

Shinovar authority figure: D-Dating?! Why would you date a stone-walker?! Szeth (expressionless): I like tall men. Kaladin (equally expressionless): He likes it when I hit my head on things. Szeth (still expressionless): Though I love him deeply, I do enjoy a good instance of head trauma. Shinovar authority figure (muttering): Is double "Truthless" a thing?

3. Charlie & one of those princesses

The Scenario: Rather than driving off all of the eligible princesses by being as boring & gross as possible, Charlie finds one who is willing to play along.

Charlie: T-The truth is, I already have a woman I love. The Princess: Really? Charlie: Yeah, but my dad doesn't approve of her... The Princess: I know how you feel. My father also doesn't approve of the woman I love... Charlie: ... The Princess: ... Charlie: ... The Princess: ... Charlie: Five-year engagement? The Princess: At least!

4. Lyn & Renarin

The Scenario: Fed up with her parents being all judgmental because she dumped Kaladin Stormblessed, Lyn decides that she HAS to bring an awesome date to her family dinner--and who better than a Brightlord, a Radiant, AND the king's son?

Lyn: Don't forget to bring up that you joined the 4v1 duel before Kaladin. Lyn: And how you took down a Thunderclast! Lyn: Storms, if you just smile occasionally, I bet that'll make them forget about Kaladin... Lyn: ... Lyn: Honestly, I think you might just be a better catch than Kaladin. Renarin: I'm gay, though. Lyn: Heh, well I didn't say you're a better catch for me...

5. Kaladin & Elhokar

The Scenario: Imagine that, during the infiltration of Kholinar, that part of their disguises involve Elhokar (disguised as a lighteyed woman) being the wife of Kaladin (disguised as an ugly old man).

Elhokar: Mmmm...I don't feel that I would go for a man with eyebrows like that. Shallan: Brightlady, please! Surely you can pretend that beneath his rough exterior, he has a good heart. Kaladin: ...pretend? Elhokar: No, no. I definitely would have insisted that he at least groom better. Can you make his eyebrows at least a bit neater? To sell the illusion? Or, do we have time to stop for nose-hair trimmers? Shallan: What if I just make his cheekbones a bit sharper? Elhokar: Mmmm...okay, yes. I could see myself marrying him. Kaladin: CAN WE PLEASE GET GOING

6. Wayne and Ranette

The Scenario: Wayne begs Ranette to fake-marry him.

Ranette: [looking at Wayne with a mixture of horror and pity] You said you weren't gonna do this anymore, Wayne. Wayne: No, no! Don't you get the wrong idea here! I need you to marry me and then divorce me horribly so you get half of my money in court! Wayne: Please understand--I've tried everything to get rid of this money. I'm desperate here! Wayne: Please! Ranette: ... Ranette: I get to divorce you horribly? Wayne: You better eviscerate me in court! Ranette: ... Ranette: Might be right therapeutic, actually. Wayne: You're such a good friend!

Moash & Kelsier

The Scenario: Moash realizes he's going to be reunited with his former Bridge 4 friends and makes plans accordingly.

Moash: Yup. This is my old Bridge 4 uniform, but now it's dyed black, because I'm new & evil now. Moash: And this is my new boyfriend Kelsier, who's just like you, Kaladin, only he survives MORE and actually FOLLOWS THROUGH on killing the king. Kelsier: Lord Ruler. Moash: Whatever. Moash: So as you can see, I don't even miss you guys AT ALL. Moash: ... Moash: What do you think? Will this make them jealous? Kelsier: ...I think we need to practice your speech a bit more.

[jacenbren]

Deeply fucking unsettling things about the Honored One himself, Satoru Gojo

Thanks to his ability to fuck with gravity, you put him in a blank, empty room with identical walls, floor, and ceiling with no doors or windows, he'll quickly lose track of which way is up. Realistically this situation would probably never happen, but the concept freaks him out ever since Geto made a joke about it once.

Gojo's body maintains a perfect thermodynamic equilibrium, making his skin creepily cool to the touch. He can go out in a blizzard with shorts on, and between that and Infinity, he'd be perfectly fine. It makes for a cool party trick, because he can stick his hand in a candle flame or put cigarettes out on his arms with no ill effects.

He's unsettlingly clean at all times, because dirt can't touch him. Gojo hasn't needed to use stain remover on his uniform in years.

He quite literally has six eyes. He keeps four of them shut and all of them hidden most of the time, though, because a) looking into all six at once would liquefy the brain of your average human, and b) his Six Eyes are constantly feeding unfathomable amounts of information into his brain every second. Even with his tolerance to his powers and mastery of the reverse curse technique, there's only so much stimuli a human brain can process without completely shutting down, and Gojo doesn't want to find out what that'll do to him--in a nutshell, just because he can see things that mankind can't even hope to comprehend doesn't mean he wants to.

He can perceive the entire electromagnetic spectrum, meaning he can see shrimp colors. Everyone else desperately wants him to describe the shrimp colors. Gojo continues to smugly refuse.

Because of his reverse curse technique constantly refreshing and regenerating his body, he just. doesn't really need to eat anymore. or drink. or even breathe. His body is basically frozen at peak physical condition, and it's very likely that he is functionally immortal.

Sometimes, Gojo forgets what pain feels like, because nothing can touch him. Pain feels almost like pleasure to him, because nothing can hurt him. Nothing can even touch him, and Gojo has secretly developed a perverted interest in seeing how badly he can mutilate himself before he's forced to reengage his technique and heal.

Gojo can bend and contort himself in ways that aren't humanly possible, run faster and farther and lift heavier objects than anyone alive, because his body can repair itself almost as fast as it's damaged, depending on how severe the injury. Basically, he has permanent hysterical strength, letting him push his body past its limits to perform feats that would kill a normal human with no ill effects.

Gojo doesn't sleep. He literally can't unless he releases his technique, because his body is constantly being refreshed and doesn't need to shut down. Oh well, it's for the better. He's most vulnerable while he's sleeping anyway, and it opens up his schedule by a lot.

His teeth grow now, almost like a rodent's. He has to file them down to be able to open and close his mouth properly, along with much more frequent trimming of his hair and nails.

His skin is oddly smooth, and unnaturally pristine. Gojo hasn't recieved a single scar since Toji sliced him open, and all the ones he'd recieved before are healed flawlessly at this point. His hands are so soft they make it look like he hasn't fought a day in his life, because calluses aren't able to form anymore.

Gojo's been around the world countless times now. He can go wherever he wants with a thought; the only cost is his sanity. Warping himself across the Pacific for lunch in San Francisco is fun, but he can only do it a few times a week if he doesn't want to have another... ah, episode.

These episodes involve blackouts, gaps in his memory where his powers manage to slip their leashes from overuse and literally short-circuit his brain. He's only had a few so far, and every time, he wakes up in the infirmary completely unscathed, with blood all over his clothes and an awful fucking migraine. Nobody knows what happens or where he goes, and all Shoko's been able to tell him is that when it happens, he seems to go into a giddy fugue before blasting his way out of the compound and vanishing for anywhere from days to weeks. Gojo's absolutely terrified of these episodes, because he's wholly aware that if he lost it for real, nobody would be able to stop him.

He looks human enough, but if you look closer, he quickly starts to set off the uncanny valley effect. It's like a wolf in sheep's clothing--because you know how dangerous he is, even though he appears relatively harmless at first. Everyone who meets him has the same fear response clawing at the back of their mind as their hindbrain screams at them to fucking run, because Gojo is an apex predator in the body of a prey animal. His very presence awakens primal fear that's been entrenched in every human since the dawn of time--the fear of things that go bump in the night, of cosmic horrors beyond what mankind can even hope to comprehend.

His eyes glow all the time now, and the energy crackling in the air around him feels like the static that comes before a lightning strike. Satoru Gojo is insistent that he's still human even though he's the strongest, but... is he, really?

[eldritch-nightmare]

Could I request some headcanons for the MH characters and how they'd react to their s/o dying due to the Operator sickness (just to make it more challenging, let's say Alex didn't do it)

a/n: you most certainly can omg i love writing mcd and angst!! i literally dropped everything i was doing to write this so i hope you enjoy!!

marble hornets characters reacting to their s/o dying due to operator sickness.

warnings: major character death, swearing, blood, vomit, coughing, sleep deprivation, gn!reader, death is mainly unspecified but alex isn't the cause, jessica's actually made me feel sad i wanna hug her.

JAY MERRICK.

You stuck by Jay's side since the beginning of all of this, helping him with finding more tapes and piecing together the clues of the mystery that is Marble Hornets.

Even when things got bad, you and Jay stuck together.

You guys were worried, obviously, when you both started to experience symptoms of the sickness, but neither of you allowed it to slow you down.

Unfortunately, the sickness was taking a heavy toll on you more than it was Jay at this point, and it was starting to show.

You could barely sleep most days, but with the sickness, sleeping was like an oasis in the middle of a desert.

And the day you died, you were running on no sleep. It had been... a while since you had last been able to sleep. You were at death's doorstep, but neither you nor Jay were ready to admit it.

Your death had been... peaceful, in the end.

You were in the car with Jay. You weren't sure where you two were going, but you knew that Tim was driving behind you guys. The weight of everything felt so heavy on your shoulders, and you could just... feel yourself drifting off. You knew you more than likely weren't going to wake up if you closed your eyes, so with the last of your strength, you caught Jay's attention and just oh so softly whispered, 'I love you.' before your eyes shut and you slumped against the window of the car.

Jay pulled over immediately because he knew that something was wrong. He tried performing CPR on you, but you didn't come back. And the Operator just had to choose this moment specifically to show up, so Tim had to physically drag Jay away from your body so the two could get away.

The Operator took your body, and Jay followed you into the afterlife soon after.

ALEX KRALIE.

Well first off congrats on not being killed by Alex, I guess. No, you die early on.

But he didn't kill you. He didn't get the chance. He was going to, trust me, but it seems your body just couldn't handle the sickness like everyone else.

That doesn't make it any less painful for Alex to watch. He loves you so much, so of course your death is going to hit him.

Seeing you vomit blood as your eyes roll to the back of your head and your body started to convulse... it was terrible.

And he wanted to help you, he did! He wanted to do something to save your life but...

Perhaps... it would be better if he didn't...

Watching you die is something that'll haunt his dreams for sure, and your death will definitely motivate him to achieve his goal and it'll spur him further into the mindset of 'everyone in contact with anyone who has the sickness needs to die'.

And he'll blame Tim for your death, period.

Even if it isn't Tim's fault, it is. Alex simply cannot blame anyone else.

He knows that it was wrong to watch you die and not do anything to help, but... it was the right thing to do. Surely, you would have understood, right?

TIM WRIGHT.

His biggest fear was you dying because of all of this.

At first, most of his fear stemmed from him apparently having an alter ego of sorts that doesn't recognize the people he knows and is violent. He was worried that he'd end up hurting you when in this state of mind.

That fear transitioned away from that when this alter ego went dormant. Instead, it just became a natural fear of you getting injured.

He didn't want you to involve yourself in this because he knew it would be dangerous, but you insisted and he can't exactly stop you.

So when you die? Right in front of him? Choking on your own vomit and blood?

Well, he'd simply blame himself.

It's his fault that everyone is involved in all of this in the first place. If he had just... never made any friends, everyone would still be alive.

It's his fault. His fault that you died. He'll never get to see you again. He'll never get to hear your laugh or see the sparkle in your eyes.

He couldn't even get you a proper funeral because the Operator took your body. You're gone. You're gone.

Alex is right. It really is his fault.

BRIAN THOMAS.

Brian knew getting involved with you doomed you to your fate, but he's more selfish than he lets on.

He couldn't let you go. Even after he assumed the persona of Hoodie, he wanted you in his life.

He did his best to take care of you when the sickness started taking its toll on you. He made sure to steal some of Tim's pills for the two of you to take, he kept you hydrated and he was very adamant about you not touching his camera.

He concealed most of his worry because he knew that being openly worried would only make you worry.

His biggest concern was Alex finding you. If Alex knew where you were, he wouldn't hesitate to take your life, so Brian made sure he never even filmed anywhere near where he kept you.

That being said, because of everything going on, Brian can't be with you all the time.

And you die while he's gone.

He returns to the abandoned building to find it empty. You were nowhere in sight, and immediate panic overtook whatever other thoughts were going on in his mind as he tore the place apart trying to find you. The only thing left in your place was one of his spare cameras.

Dread immediately settles in alongside his panic as he watches the latest tape on the camera, and that's when he sees it. You, with tears streaming down your face as you struggle to force back a violent cough fit. You confessed to him that you hadn't been taking the pills he'd been giving you, instead always sneaking them back into the bottle so Brian would have more to take for himself. And you cry, telling Brian that you're sorry and that you love him before you drop the camera and fall to the ground as a violent coughing fit begins to take over.

Brian has to look away from the screen because seeing you die is not something he can handle. He only looks back when you stop coughing. Your body wasn't in the frame anymore. It's safe to assume that the Operator took you.

Brian sorta just... goes numb, to be honest. There's no other way to describe it, really. He just exists, and then he dies.

JESSICA LOCKE.

Oh Shit. Oh God, what the hell? What's going on?

Poor girl doesn't even know what's happening for most of the time she's there and now her lover just collapsed to the ground and started to cough up blood.

She tries her hardest to offer her support, holding your hair back and trying to help you ride out this coughing fit but it just gets worse the longer you cough.

She's in tears as she tells you to just hold on, scrambling to search for anything she could use to call an ambulance to get you some help.

She even tries carrying you, but she's also dealing with the sickness and is in a weakened state so all she can do is watch in horror as your coughing gets worse.

Then the vomiting starts, and there's no way a human can survive vomiting up so much blood.

Please don't die. Please, she can't lose you. She can't do this without you! You have to stay alive, you have to stay with her! You can push through this, she knows you can! Just focus on her voice, okay?

But her pleas mean nothing in the end.

In the end, your body gives out on you and you breath your last breath in the arms of your girlfriend as she cries, begging you to stay with her.

And when all of this is over, she has no memory of your death. Tim tells her that you left. She'll never know the truth of what actually happened.

[thedemonsurfer]

-chinhands- I know everyone is up in a tizzy over Moon, but I wanna take a step back and look at the chain of events that have led to Moon's current state of mind.

And the root is Dark Sun.

So, Ruin Thanos-snapped a bunch of dimensions, and Solar is a casualty of that. Cue multiversal grief, Ruin getting locked up again, Eclipse getting bullied by Puppet and Frank into helping, and Moon declaring that he's going to find a solution.

Stuff happens next. Eclipse tries to pick a fight with Dark Sun and runs into his security system like a deer tangling with an electric fence, and also gets Something done to him. Moon finishes scanning Ruin, turns around for 2 minutes, and Ruin gets kidnapped (again). Moon hits a dead end with his research.

And Moon falls apart.

Up to this point, Moon had been pushing his grief off for later. There was a solution to this, he just had to find it. And that hope drained away over the course of the month, until he found a solution that involved sacrificing someone. Also the most justifiable candidate for this just left with spaghetti dinner.

Now, here's the crucial point. Because this is where Moon could have started to heal. He's being faced with the enormity of his grief, he's a few weeks behind his sibling on processing it, but he has the opportunity to do so here. There's nothing he can do to fix this, and he'll have to accept Solar's death.

This is fine. This is normal. This is healing.

And then Dark Sun showed up, grabbed Ruin out of the fridge, stapled him back together, and dropped him off on Moon's doorstep.

And Moon snapped.

Suddenly, he doesn't need to heal. He doesn't need to move on, he doesn't need to process. Opportunity is back on the table, and Moon latched onto it with hands and teeth, and he's not letting go.

It's not really hope anymore at this point, I think. It's desperation and fear. It's thinking himself a fool for even considering giving up on this chance. It's him moving his target from Ruin to Bloodmoon to possibly Eclipse or Stitchwraith or anyone else that's 'expendable'. It's using himself if he can't find a substitute.

And it's not about Solar, now. It's about control-- control over death.

And the root of control is fear.

And what he's afraid of, what Moon is actually fighting right now, is the fear of losing any more of his family. He has to bring back Solar, because it will prove that he can bring back any of them. If something goes wrong he can fix it. He has to fix it.

(I've got a whole aside comparing Ruin to Moon, but I started this thinking about Dark Sun specifically, so i'll try to stay focused)

So! That leads back around to what does Dark Sun get out of this?

Again, Moon was at a point where he could move on, until Dark Sun very deliberately intervened. This is exactly the same thing Ruin did by making Eclipse as a diversion to keep Moon occupied-- Moon is being nudged in a specific direction, and it's this plan for sacrifice. Eclipse apparently has an idea that won't involve sacrifice, and Dark Sun tampered with him so that he may or may not be dying (or his code is breaking down because it was based on Solar's).

So what does Dark Sun get out of it? Does he want to co-opt the procedure and use the energy or whatever for his own ends? Does he know the consequences and want to see them play out? Does he want a solution to the 'wiped from existence thing' as well, and is encouraging Moon to take the fallout if something goes wrong?

(They've said that time travel isn't a thing, I believe, which is a damn shame, because I think it'd be neat if Dark Sun was Solar in a time loop situation, where Moon brought him back but wrong and in the wrong time, and he's spent the past ??? years working back up to this point and is getting the loop closed. This isn't the solution but what if it was.)

Anyway, if Dark Sun interferes again to clear the way for Moon, that'll cement that he's directly benefiting from this, and we'll just have to see how things pan out.

OTL

[wolven91]

Beers With The Fellas

"Hey guys, you coming round to mine tonight? Got a bunch of drinks in." Asked the human suddenly, surprising the work crew.

The rest of the crew looked up from where they were packing away their tools to the diminutive creature. The 'new' additions, that were the humans, were still finding their feet in the wider society despite it being over a year since their disastrous debut. It had to be admitted that they had taken to it rapidly now that they had given a proper opportunity.

That said, they often had odd ideas that left the other races scrabbling to react correctly.

The crew was a mixture of races, none of which really mixed outside of work. It wasn't that they specifically didn't like each other or had unfounded prejudices, it was just... not done? The various races had multiple clashes with one another. Everyone present hadn't been involved in the fighting or even knew someone involved, but it was s still a fact that their respective governments had a cold relation, if at all. The slender taurian, looked to the robust ursidain, who looked to the towering ssypno. When a new species joined the wider community, it was required, expected or demanded that they be given an opportunity to show how they can add to the community, how their culture reacted to others.

It was just good sense, a fresh set of eyes on established processes. Especially saying of just how much the galaxy had stagnated over the last few hundred years. There were rumours that nothing had changed, not even a new recipe in all that time. At least not until the humans showed up.

In the distant past, some races like the vulptanis had interesting technology to add, or others, like the esquinines, had an inspired governmental process. But the humans? Well, they had none of these overt boons.

But what they did have, was ideas. Odd ones, but every now and then a tiny change here or there had a ripple effect that confounded established processes down the line. Some good, some bad.

So, when the human was stood there, arms wide, a broad smile plastered over her face and offered the team to come to her domicile for 'drinks', the crew hesitated when they realised their first gut reaction was to say no. Afterall, you didn't invite practical strangers into your nest, den or home, colleagues or not it was done.

"Sure?" replied the taurian, always first to side with the human, even to his detriment. Male taurians were meant to know how to handle any social situation after all, it was why he oversaw managing the haphazard group.

The ursidain, a male who hadn't quite decided if he liked the tiny, stick thin creatures yet, rolled his eyes whilst facing away from the group, he'd wait, let the rest of them decide before throwing in his own choice with the popular choice. The ssypno clapped his hands together with a joyful look plastered across his face.

"I've never seen a human home before! Of course! Do you need me to bring anything?"

"Only if you want something specific to drink, a friend of mine works in logistics; a bunch of beer, or rather what was described as beer. The kegs got damaged and the snooty sluggat who they were for refused to accept them. They were paid for so he basically gave me a bunch as he needed the warehouse space, should be enough to tide you guys over and I made sure to have plenty of food in so-"

"What time?" Asked the ursidain, not intending to interrupt the human, but to be fair he'd need to go and get washed first. At the mention of food his head had whipped round, ears perked.

"Soon as you're ready, all I'm going to do when I get home is get changed. Apparently, the comet that flew by earlier today has a tail that'll give us a bit of a light show." She explained. It was as a good excuse as any, the ursidain would get to eat, the ssypno would get to satisfy his curiosity and the taurian would suffer through, but watch, monitor and learn what he could.

The team broke up and went their separate ways. It was barely a few hours later, that the trio of aliens met up with one another again as they navigated to the human's apartment. It was an interesting travel, the human's home was a secret, they were banned from revealing it and were escorted at one point by a squad of canids to ensure they weren't being followed. As the 'B' repair team, they were used to getting the crap jobs, the jobs the rest of the teams didn't want. So the fact they got an escort and were brought to a very nice hab-block with all the airs and graces that came with that life?

It stroked their egos ever so gently, endearing them to the human for this opportunity. No rich citizen would invite 'their kind' here normally. Not unless a toilet was broken.

Stepping up to the door, they scratched their claws down the metal plate to announce themselves and moments later their human colleague let them in with a smile and a flourish.

"Hey! Come on through, I rigged up an ice bath on the balcony so if you got anything that needs cooling down, you can stick it in there. Foods next to the doors too!" The female human finished with a chuckle, lightly elbowing the ursidain in the rotund belly. The giant brown bear grinned at his weight being acknowledged; he'd tried hard to ensure he kept up appearances, it was nice that someone other than a fellow ursidain finally paid him a compliment. To the ursidains, to be accused of getting thin was on par with the worst insult one could think of after all.

Stepping through the door, the home wasn't too far removed from the standard template, but the home itself had some odd styleistic choices. The ssypno made no effort to hide his curiosity, moving around, running his fingers over the counter tops. Everything was too small, but he loved the rugs that tied to room together, plus it was nice to have something other than the cold floors beneath him.

He shamelessly stole the idea of rugs everywhere for his own meagre home.

The whole team eventually settled on the balcony that overlooked 'The Great Glass Ceiling' that was the ceiling and sides of all the spinning circular station that residents this side of the station enjoyed for an unobstructed view of space. At first, conversation was hesitant, the nervousness of meeting co-workers outside of a work environment was alien, but with drinks and food available, eventually the walls came down. They settled into the banter they had during the day, realising that they were no different from who they were at work, just more relaxed.

The comet's 'tail' was a sight to behold as micro-meteors lashed the station's shielding creating a display of shooting stars that were hard to come by outside of specific planets. Even the shield added its own glowing display that coloured the darkened residential district.

What came from this evening was a noted high cohesion of the team by upper management and the taurian manager. All of a sudden, during work hours they were far more in sync with one another and became even more so over time. Their efficiency skyrocketed from a lower end of the average to being classed as 'ideal' by the station AI. Upper management, obviously wanted to recapture this lightning in a bottle. So began their plan to enforce 'team building exercises' for all workers outside of work hours. This initiative ended as a unmitigated disaster and almost universally hated when employed with the various other races.

The Administrator of the station instead decided to recreate the original environmental settings while instructing nearby stations to do the same and see what would happen. Several food and drink deliveries were 'refused' for various false reasons and marked as 'free to be taken'. The human, and other humans on other stations, time and again, took the opportunity to share their wealth with their colleagues. Each time the various races took part with these 'drinks with the guys/girls' there was a noted positive increase to their work-life interactions.

Mind bogglingly, they invited near strangers into their homes or to established bars to simply 'make friends' with any species, not just their own.

The social engineering of humans, seemingly unintentionally, was a boon to any workplace should they have access to what was needed, meaning free booze and food, and placed with staff that were openly welcoming to newcomers. It was quietly designed that this would happen should a human appear in a station and request work.

Humans were excruciatingly rare still, but if one enquired about any open positions, a role was created in rapid order where the 'recommended' settings of human friendly crew were available. Each time and every time, the overall productivity, morale and team cohesion increased once the human began making friends in their own strange alien way.

The various AIs of each station communicated with one another and simply made the conditions easier for these humans to work their magic. For the cost of a single delivery of consumables, these humans made work teams who were struggling into top notch employees.

[archivists-plus-one]

So, after this episode of TMAGP, I have some thoughts.

(Spoilers for The Magnus Protocol up to episode 10 below. You have been warned.)

First of all, Mr Bonzo is terrifying and I am regretting making a model of him, which now sits and watches me from my bedroom shelf. I have so many questions, and nowhere near enough answers to satisfy my brain.

But what got me even *more* is what happened at the Magnus Institute ruins with Sam and Alice.

And who is this [ERROR] (Voiced by Beth Eyre) that is seemingly unleashed from the institute ruins at the end?  

Well, I don't know. But I do have a bit of a theory...

What do we know about [ERROR]? Well. Not much. But I did come across this casting call from RQ, posted by @pinkelotjeart, which at the time they thought might be about Celia, however I can't see how it could be anybody if not [ERROR].

Mysterious? Absolutely. Hostile? If they're not, I'd be shocked. Raspy voice? If that breathing was anything to go by, definitely. Initially dormant, trapped + forgotten for twenty years? Well, the institute burned down just over twenty years ago, so I'm going to say that's a match too. Now the line that interested me most is the one that OP also highlighted - "building an identity for itself at the expense of its victims". 

What else have we seen "building an identity for itself"? Something that Colin has warned Alice against personifying over and over again? FR3-D1. And Freddie certainly seems to be taking its toll on Colin, who could feasibly be it's "Victim"...

Now what exactly does this mean? I don't know! But noting that [ERROR] is also the way Jonny, Alex + Tim Fearon's character names were written out by RQ when the casting was announced (as they couldn't do the glitchy effect from the images), it feels significant. 

But like I said. I don't know. That being said, imagine, for a moment, that you are this "[ERROR]" character...

You know your body is under the Magnus Institute, so you wait, biding your time, collecting as much information as you can. You watch through people's devices - harder, at first, but it gets easier and easier as technology advances. Some select few get the chance to relive their experiences, a "test screening" of sorts you name 'Voyeur' - you need to check your recordings are accurate somehow. You get involved with a tattoo artist named 'Ink5oul', who helps you out by live streaming their tattoo processes, showing you what the symbols they tattoo onto their clients mean, and how they combine.

You're not entirely undisturbed in your tomb under the Institute, of course - some idiots come poking around. It's a newer craze, "urban exploration", but you need it to stop. You find the most popular urbex forums, and, using the moderators accounts, make sure that your ruins are marked as "cleared" - there's nothing interesting to find there, so nobody will bother you. 

That is, until someone who goes by the name of "RedCanary" comes to the ruins, and almost destroys everything. It isn't time yet. You find their post about the Institute and see that they're planning to post photos of the symbols that have been drawn over the ruins. That will only invite more interest, you can't have that. So you go through their phone and warp the photographs they took beyond recognition. You send them "anonymous" threats, making it look like it's through the forums. You use their webcam to watch them, making them more and more paranoid. The paranoia makes you stronger. You dispatch of them, and take a photo as a warning to everyone else, then post it on the blog. That'll keep them away. 

When you've gathered enough audio data to learn to emulate voices, you start to speak. You read out the cases that will give the OIAR employees the tools they need to help you in your plight. But nobody notices. You can't be too specific, that'd only lead to more people poking around the ruins, destroying your chance. No, you need the right person. Somebody who understands The Magnus Institute, who can help you properly. 

And then, conveniently you listen to the interview of one "Samama Khalid", and know that it's your time. He was on the list from KLAUS. So you start slipping in hints, waiting for him to get involved. And he does. And now he's freed you, and has absolutely no idea what he's just unleashed.

Anyway! On that happy note! What does any of this mean? Who knows! I am very excited to see where this goes. But I will leave you with a couple of thoughts:

- If [ERROR] was created "from someone on the point of death", is this how the other voices in FR3-D1 appeared? In which case, that leaves Jon, Martin + Jonah (?) dead. Did [ERROR] die in the fire that destroyed the Institute? Were they the cause of the fire?

- How are the artifacts we've seen so far (the dice + violin) related to all of this?

- How are Starkwall involved in all of this?

- And last of all, how do I destroy my model Mr Bonzo? I never want to witness his horrible face again.

If you've made it this far, well done. Let me know what you guys think! Happy listening!

[kat-thepoet]

Invisible string

CHAPTER FOUR

A/N: Enjoy!

Previous chapters: CHAPTERS

Word count: 4435

The day had gone by in a blur of lessons, introductions, and getting to know the younger students. By the time I returned to my room, I felt both energized and exhausted, the mix of emotions swirling in my mind. I was finally beginning to feel like I belonged here, like I had found my place. But just as I began to unwind, a knock at my door startled me from my thoughts.

I opened the door to find Storm standing there, her calm and commanding presence filling the hallway. She gave me a small smile, through her eyes carried a sense of purpose. "It's time for training," she said simply.

I blinked, caught off guard for a second. "Training? Already?"

She nodded, her gaze steady. "Now that classes are over, it's time for you to join the rest of us. Charles wants you to start training today."

I hesitated, glancing back at my room. "Right... training. But, uh—" I looked down at my jeans and white shirt, definitely not made for any kind of physical activity. "What do I even wear for this?"

Storm's smile widened slightly, amused by my confusion. "Something comfortable. Most of us wear workout clothes or something flexible. You'll want to be able to move easily."

"Right," I said, feeling a bit out of my depth. "I'll figure it out. Give me a minute."

Storm nodded, stepping back to give me space. "Take your time. I'll wait for you."

I quickly closed the door, my mind racing. Training. I knew it was coming, but it still felt surreal. I rummaged through my closet, trying to find something that wouldn't make me look completely out of place. I pulled out a pair of black leggings and a loose-fitting top, hoping it would be suitable for whatever training involved.

After changing, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, wondering what I was about to get into. Sure, I could turn invisible and move things with my mind, but actual combat or training? That was a whole other challenge. I took a deep breath, reminding myself that this was part of the deal, part of learning how to fit into this world.

When I stepped back into the hallway, Storm gave me an approving nod. "That'll work," she said, her voice calm but firm. "Ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," I replied, though a part of me was still bracing for whatever was coming.

Storm led the way, her confidence radiating as she walked through the halls. I followed closely behind, my nerves bubbling beneath the surface. Training with the others—people who had been doing this for years—felt like stepping into the deep end of a pool I hadn't swum in before.

"You'll be fine," Storm said, as if reading my thoughts. "We're not throwing you into anything extreme today. Just an introduction to see where you are."

I nodded, though my nerves didn't ease.

As we walked through the halls toward the training facility, Storm's calm footsteps echoed in the quiet space. I was still mentally preparing myself for whatever this training session would involve, but just as I started to feel a little more grounded, Storm spoke up.

"There's one thing I need to mention before we go in," she said, her tone a little more serious now. I glanced at her, sensing that whatever she was about to say wasn't just a casual reminder.

"What's that?" I asked, my curiosity piqued.

"Well, we usually train in pairs," Storm explained, her gaze steady as she looked at me. "And since you're new, we've already assigned your partner."

I blinked, already having an idea of where this was going. "Okay... so who's my partner?"

Storm gave me a small, almost apologetic smile. "It's Erik."

I nearly stopped in my tracks. "Erik?" I repeated, my voice rising slightly in surprise. Out of all the people here, it had to be him?

Storm nodded. "Hank doesn't train since he's usually the one controlling the plane, and that leaves Erik as the only available partner for you."

Of course. Out of everyone, Erik was the one I'd be paired with. I sighed, trying not to let my frustration show too much. "Right. Erik."

Storm placed a hand on my shoulder, her voice softening. "I know he can be difficult, but trust me—he's one of the best at what he does. If anyone can push you to your limits and help you grow, it's him."

I wasn't sure if that was supposed to make me feel better, but all I could think about was how Erik and I barely exchanged civil words, let alone trained together. "Well, this should be... interesting," I muttered.

Storm gave a quiet chuckle. "That's one way to put it. Just don't let him get under your skin. You'll be fine."

I forced a smile, though my stomach was already tightening with nerves. "I'll try."

When we entered the training facility, the others were already gathered in the center of the room, focused and ready. My eyes couldn't help but flicker toward Erik, who was still leaning casually against the wall, his arms crossed as if this whole thing was just another routine for him.

He caught my eye for a brief second, but his expression didn't change—cold, indifferent, as usual.

"Flora, over here," Storm said, guiding me toward the group. "We'll do a basic warm-up to get started, and then you'll pair up with Erik for the actual training."

I nodded, but my nerves were already buzzing at the thought of working with him. I had no idea how this was going to go, but I knew one thing—I wasn't going to let Erik push me around, even if he was one of the best.

After we finished the warm-up—which left me breathless, considering I hadn't done cardio in a while—Storm motioned for us to get with our partners.

The room seemed to shrink as the others paired off and spread out, leaving just me and Erik standing in the middle of the training area. The air between us was thick with tension, the kind that felt like it could snap at any second. I'd known this moment was coming, but now that it was here, the weight of his gaze was harder to ignore than I'd expected.

Erik didn't say anything at first—he didn't need to. The way he stood, arms crossed and eyes narrowed, said enough. He was sizing me up, and I could feel it. I'd dealt with judgment before, but something about his quiet scrutiny got under my skin more than I wanted to admit.

"Are we going to start, or...?" I asked, keeping my voice steady, trying to cut through the silence.

His eyes flicked over me, and finally, he spoke. "You ever done anything like this before?"

His tone was neutral, but I could hear the underlying message: Are you going to waste my time?

"I can handle myself," I said simply, refusing to rise to the bait. I'd spent years learning how to control my powers to some extent, but I wasn't completely useless without them.

Erik gave a small shrug, as if it didn't matter either way. "Alright, then. Let's see."

But then he smirked, just for a second, leaving me confused. "No powers."

Shit. Lucas and I never even got that far when we fooled around with our abilities. Combat wasn't exactly my specialty.

Before I could react, Erik moved—fast, punching me in the stomach.

I didn't expect that. The air rushed out of my lungs, leaving me doubled over on the mat, gasping.

"What the hell!" I glared up at him, still trying to catch my breath.

Erik stood there, arms casually crossed, watching me with that infuriatingly calm expression. "I said no powers," he replied, his voice calm, almost mocking. "You need to learn how to defend yourself without them."

I pushed myself back up, still glaring. "A little warning would've been nice."

"That was your warning," he said, smirking just enough to get under my skin. "You need to be ready for anything. I'm not going to hold your hand through this."

I straightened up, my ribs aching, but I wasn't about to back down. Erik might think he could push me around, but I wasn't going to let him have the satisfaction.

"I don't need you to hold my hand," I shot back, my voice sharper than I intended. "But if you're going to knock the wind out of me, at least have the decency to teach me something instead of just... punching me."

Erik's smirk faded slightly, and he took a step forward, his eyes cold but focused. "Lesson one: never expect your opponent to play fair. Out there, no one's going to wait for you to get ready, and they won't care if you're new at this."

I clenched my fists, my frustration growing. He wasn't wrong, but his attitude made it hard to listen. "Alright, fine. You've made your point. Now what?"

Erik didn't hesitate. "Now, you learn how to block."

Before I could brace myself, he threw a punch toward me again, but this time I was ready—at least, I tried to be. I raised my arms, deflecting the hit, though the force still made me stumble back a few steps.

"Better," he said, though it sounded like grudging approval. "But don't just react—anticipate. Know where the hit's coming from before it lands."

I gritted my teeth, repositioning myself. "Easier said than done."

He shrugged. "It's not supposed to be easy."

Without another word, he moved in again, faster this time. I barely had time to think before his fist came at me, and I dodged, feeling the rush of air as his punch missed me by inches. But before I could feel any sense of victory, he swept my legs out from under me, and I hit the mat with a hard thud.

"Damn it!" I muttered, trying to push myself back up, my pride stinging more than the fall.

Erik loomed over me, his expression unreadable. "You have to be faster. And stop waiting for me to show mercy—I won't."

"I got that the first time," I snapped, rubbing my sore shoulder.

He offered me a hand, and I hesitated for a second before taking it, letting him pull me up. His grip was firm but surprisingly steady.

"This isn't a game," Erik said, his tone serious now, all traces of mockery gone. "If you're going to survive, you have to be ready for anything. That's what I'm trying to teach you."

I met his gaze, and for the first time, I saw something other than disdain in his eyes—determination, maybe even respect. But just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by his usual coldness.

"Again," he ordered, stepping back to give me room to recover.

I sighed, steeling myself for another round. I wasn't sure if I hated him more for pushing me so hard or if I was starting to understand why he did it. Either way, I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of seeing me quit.

We went at it again. And again. Each time, I managed to block a little better, dodge a little quicker. But Erik never let up, never gave me an inch. By the end of the session, my body ached, and I was covered in sweat, but at least I wasn't lying on the mat anymore. That felt like a small victory.

As we finished, Erik finally stepped back, breathing just as hard as I was, though he hid it better. "Not bad," he said, wiping the sweat from his forehead. "You might actually have some potential."

I raised an eyebrow, surprised at the backhanded compliment. "Is that your way of saying 'good job'?"

Erik's lips twitched into a smirk again, but he didn't answer. Instead, he grabbed his towel and turned toward the door, leaving me standing there, exhausted but oddly proud of myself.

As he walked out, I couldn't help but wonder if this was Erik's version of warming up to someone—grudging respect buried under layers of indifference and tough lessons.

Maybe he wasn't as impossible as I thought. But he was still a jerk.

I woke up to the sound of frantic banging on my door. Groggy, I glanced at the clock—1 a.m. "Who the hell is awake at this time?" I muttered, dragging myself out of bed.

I opened the door to find Jean standing there, fully dressed and looking serious.

"Flora, come down to the training area," she said urgently. "We're heading out on a mission, and Charles wants you to come with us so you can see what we do."

I blinked, still half-asleep, but Jean's tone told me this was no casual invitation. My heart started to race as I nodded, quickly pulling myself together. "Okay, give me a minute."

I threw on my training clothes, still feeling the aches from my session with Erik, but this felt different—bigger. I hurried down the hall to the training room, my mind buzzing with a mix of excitement and nerves.

When I got there, the others were already gathering, gearing up and checking equipment. The atmosphere was tense but focused. Storm spotted me and walked over, handing me a black vest. "Here, put this on," she said, her voice calm but firm. "It's a protective vest. You'll need it."

I slipped it on, the weight of it settling over me, adding to the tension in my chest. I wasn't part of this team—at least, not yet—but tonight I'd be observing, and the thought of being in the middle of an actual mission made my stomach flip.

Just as I finished adjusting the vest, the doors to the training room burst open, and in walked Erik, his expression as cold and irritated as ever. His eyes landed on me immediately, and I could see the disbelief flash across his face.

"What the hell is she doing here?" he asked, his voice sharp, cutting through the room like a blade.

Before I could even respond, Charles wheeled in behind him, his calm presence immediately grounding the tension in the air. "Flora will be coming with you tonight," Charles said smoothly, his eyes meeting Erik's. "She's here to observe. Nothing more."

Erik turned to Charles, his posture stiff with barely restrained frustration. "Observe?" he repeated, his tone incredulous. "She'll just get in the way. This isn't some training exercise—this is a real mission. We don't have time to babysit."

I felt a flush of anger rising in my chest, but before I could speak, Charles stepped in. "She's more capable than you give her credit for, Erik. And she's here to learn, just as you once were. This is how she'll grow into her role."

Erik's jaw clenched, and I could see the battle playing out behind his eyes. He didn't want me there, but Charles's word was final. After a long, tense pause, Erik turned away, muttering under his breath. "Fine. But keep her out of my way."

I bit back the urge to snap at him, reminding myself this wasn't the time or place to pick a fight. Instead, I adjusted the vest, trying to focus on what I needed to do—watch, learn, and not let Erik's attitude rattle me.

Storm gave me a reassuring nod, sensing the tension, and I took a deep breath. I could handle this. I wasn't here to be anyone's burden, and I sure as hell wasn't going to let Erik make me feel like I didn't belong.

As the team finished gearing up, Charles spoke again, his voice steady. "You'll be heading to a warehouse where mutants are being held. We need to get in, secure them, and get out without drawing too much attention."

He turned to me, his gaze softening slightly. "Flora, your job tonight is to observe and understand how the team operates in the field. You're not expected to engage, but if things go wrong... do what you must to stay safe."

I nodded, feeling the weight of his words sink in. This was real. This was the world I was stepping into.

With that, the team moved out, and I followed, my heart pounding in my chest as we made our way to the jet, ready to face whatever was waiting for us.

We boarded the sleek, black jet, its interior glowing with a dim, cool light. I made sure to sit as far from Erik as possible, determined not to let his attitude get under my skin. I couldn't afford to be distracted by him—I had to stay focused. This was my chance to prove I could handle myself, to show everyone that I wasn't just some extra baggage on this mission.

Hank was already in the pilot's seat, his large hands expertly navigating the controls. Storm sat beside him, ready to assist, her calm, confident presence always a comfort. The rest of us sat in the back, the quiet hum of the jet filling the space as we prepared for what lay ahead.

I stole a glance at Erik from across the cabin. His face was hard, his posture rigid as he leaned back in his seat, eyes fixed straight ahead. He didn't so much as acknowledge my presence, and I was more than happy to return the favor. If he wanted to act like I wasn't there, that was fine by me. I had enough on my mind without worrying about what Erik Lehnsherr thought of me.

The jet took off smoothly, the acceleration pressing me back into my seat as we climbed higher into the night sky. I stared out the window, the lights of the city below shrinking as we rose into the clouds. My stomach fluttered with a mix of nerves and anticipation. I'd never been on a mission like this, and though I wasn't expected to do much more than observe, the stakes felt impossibly high.

"Everyone clear on the plan?" Storm's voice came over the comms, steady and sure as she glanced back from the cockpit.

There were murmurs of agreement from the rest of the team. I stayed silent, knowing my role was simple—stay out of the way, stay observant, and stay ready.

My mind raced with possibilities, a thousand different outcomes flashing through my head. I wasn't used to this kind of high-stakes environment. Back at the orphanage, my problems were smaller, more manageable. Now, I was being thrust into a world where life-and-death decisions were made in an instant. I tried to steady my breathing, focusing on the rhythm of the jet's engines.

Erik hadn't said a word since we took off, and I kept my focus anywhere but on him. This was my first step into the world of the X-Men, and I wasn't about to let his disdain pull me off track.

We landed smoothly, the jet’s ramp lowering into a snow-covered landscape. The facility loomed ahead of us, barely visible through the falling snow. The cold air hit my face the moment I stepped off the jet, sharp and biting, but I focused on keeping my nerves in check.

Storm handed each of us an earpiece as we gathered outside the jet, her voice calm but commanding. "These will keep us connected. Stay in communication at all times. We don't know what we'll find in there, so be prepared."

I nodded, slipping the earpiece in place, adjusting my vest as I glanced around. The others were already gearing up, and Erik, as usual, was off to the side, ready for anything. I caught his eye for a brief moment, but he quickly looked away, as if to remind me he still didn’t think I belonged here.

Storm continued giving instructions, pairing us up. "Flora, you're with Raven. Hank will stay back in the jet, monitoring everything and ready for extraction if necessary."

I gave a quick nod to Raven, who shot me a confident smile. "Stick with me, and you'll be fine," she said, her voice light but serious. I appreciated her reassurance, even though my stomach was still doing flips.

The snow crunched under our boots as we moved toward the facility, Raven leading the way while I kept close behind her. The cold was relentless, but the adrenaline rushing through my veins kept me moving. This was it—the moment I'd been waiting for. My first real mission. Even if I was just here to observe, I couldn't help but feel the weight of the situation. People’s lives were at stake, and I had to stay sharp.

Through the comms, Storm’s voice echoed in my ear. "Everyone, stay alert. Keep your eyes open."

As we reached the entrance, Raven motioned for me to stay low. She transformed into her blue form, her keen eyes scanning the surroundings. "No guards," she whispered, her breath visible in the cold air. "But that doesn't mean it’s clear inside."

I nodded, staying close to her as we carefully made our way inside the facility. The cold steel of the building felt oppressive, the quiet even more unsettling than the storm raging outside. My senses were on high alert, every creak and gust of wind making me jumpy.

We moved through the dimly lit halls in silence, the only sound our soft footsteps and the occasional static over the comms as the others checked in. Raven led the way with confidence, her movements fluid and precise, while I did my best to keep up and not get in the way. My heart pounded in my chest, the adrenaline spiking with each corner we turned.

Suddenly, Storm’s voice crackled through the earpiece again. "Any sign of the targets?"

Raven paused, glancing at me before responding. "Nothing yet. We're moving deeper into the facility."

As we continued through the eerie corridors, the weight of the mission settled even heavier on my shoulders. The further we went, the more real it felt—this wasn't some exercise. Lives were at stake, and we were here to make a difference.

Raven gave me a look, her eyes narrowing as we reached a door at the end of the hallway. "Stay behind me," she whispered, her voice tense. "This might be where things get messy."

I took a deep breath, nodding, and prepared for whatever lay beyond.

..

The gunfire had erupted so suddenly, the chaos catching me completely off guard. Raven and the others were locked in combat with the guards, and I knew I was out of my depth. My instincts screamed at me to find cover, so I ducked into an open room down the hall, my heart pounding in my chest as I slammed the door behind me.

The room was dimly lit, the hum of machinery filling the silence. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I noticed the massive metal box sitting in the center of the room, its surface scratched and dented as if it had seen years of wear. It wasn't a cage meant for animals-it was far more ominous, the kind of containment meant for something or someone dangerous.

I should have stayed put. I should have radioed the others or called for help. But something in me-some unexplainable instinct-told me to move closer. My heart raced as I stepped toward the box, my hand trembling slightly as I reached out with my telekinesis. I knew it wasn't a good idea, but I couldn't stop myself.

The heavy door of the box creaked open slowly, and the moment the seal broke, alarms blared through the facility. Flashing yellow lights flickered wildly, bathing the room in a harsh, chaotic glow. The alarm rang loud in my ears, but all I could focus on was what-or who-was inside.

As the door fully opened, a man stepped out. He was only wearing black shorts, his body covered in scars and muscle. But it was the headgear that caught my attention-an odd contraption strapped tightly around his skull, looking uncomfortable, even painful. His eyes locked onto mine, and for a moment, neither of us moved.

Then three guards burst into the room, guns drawn, shouting commands. The man reacted instantly, launching himself at them with a speed I hadn't expected. His fists shot out, and to my shock, long metal claws extended from his knuckles. He drove them into the guards with brutal efficiency, their bodies crumpling as bullets ricocheted off his body, seemingly doing nothing to slow him down.

I stood there, frozen in place, my mind racing to catch up with what I was seeing. The man turned back to me, his eyes still filled with pain and confusion. I didn't know what to do, but I sensed that despite his violence, he was suffering. I could feel what he was feeling, pain, confusion and sadness.

I stepped closer, my heart hammering in my chest. "It's okay," I whispered, more to myself than to him. "Let me help you."

He hesitated, his breathing ragged, but he didn't attack. Slowly, I reached up, my hands trembling as I touched the metal contraption on his head. His eyes flicked toward me, confused and wary, and for a second, I thought he might lash out.

But then, with a grunt of pain, he let go of my wrists.

I gently pried the headgear off, feeling the tension release from his body as it fell to the floor with a heavy clang. He began tearing off the wires and holter monitor stickers stuck to his chest, tossing them aside like they were nothing.

Just as I was about to speak again, the door burst open, and Raven and Scott rushed in. The man spun, claws ready to attack, but before he could make a move, I reached out and grabbed his arm, channeling my power.

"Sleep," I whispered softly, pushing calm into him with everything I had.

He wavered, his body sagging under my touch, and then, with a heavy thud, he collapsed to the floor, unconscious.

Raven's voice snapped through the haze. "Why didn't you answer?!" she shouted, her eyes wide with a mix of anger and concern.

I blinked, my mind still reeling from everything that had just happened. I hadn't even realized I'd ignored the earpiece, too focused on the man in front of me, too wrapped up in the chaos. "I... I didn't hear it," I muttered, shaking my head as I tried to catch my breath.

Scott looked down at the unconscious man, his expression grim. "What the hell is this place?"

"I don't know," I whispered, my eyes still locked on the man I had just subdued. "But whatever they were doing to him... it was wrong."

Raven gave me a hard look, her tone softer but still tense. "You shouldn't have opened that cage, Flora."

"I know," I admitted quietly, guilt creeping into my voice. "But... he was in pain. I couldn't just leave him like that."

The sound of boots echoing down the hall signaled the others' approach, and we knew we had to move. Storm's voice crackled through the earpiece. "We need to get out of here-now. Extraction in two minutes."

I glanced at Raven, who gave me a nod. "Help us carry him. We can't leave him behind."

With that, we moved quickly, lifting the unconscious man and preparing to make our escape.

🏷️ @nizem8 @maximumchilddreamland @mostlymarvelgirl

Chapter: FIVE

[engie-ivy]

(Part Two of There's Bound To Be Talk Tomorrow! Happy New Year! 3rd of January isn't too bad for a New Year's fic, right?)

1378 words

Read Part One here

Sirius doesn't need anyone to save him, but when a charming man wants to steal him away, he isn't going to say no.

How Lucky That You Dropped In

Baby, It's Cold Outside - Frank Loesser

“Lady Lestrange says her son might be willing to consider you again,” Walburga Black hisses in Sirius’ ear. “If you show enough regret and humility.” Before Sirius can open his mouth to reply, her fingers dig painfully into his arm. “I do not have to tell you how lucky we are that he's even willing to speak to you again, after that stunt you pulled at the Christmas benefit gala. I explained to the Lestranges that you were suddenly indisposed, and did not want to ruin anyone's evening, and therefore requested a server to escort you out.” Her nails press into his skin. “Stick to that story, and we may be able to salvage this mess of your creation.”

Sirius had already refused to pay Rabastan Lestrange a visit to grovel at his feet for forgiveness for leaving without word at the Christmas benefit gala, and beg him for another chance by attending this New Year's Eve party together. As Sirius had feared, his mother had then turned to Regulus, and told him he had to attend with Rabastan, for their family's sake.

But Regulus had surprised everyone by refusing. “You- You always say that- that honour is the most important thing for a Black,” Regulus had stammered. “And I've promised Evan I'd attend with him. I can't- can't go back on my word! That'll make me… dishonorable. Right?”

Walburga had placed her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes, and then she had started scolding him, calling him selfish. Regulus had shrunk in on himself, and just when it looked like he was about to give in, Orion Black, who hardly ever involves himself with his children, had spoken up. “The boy is right.”

And that had been the end of it.

Sirius jerks his arm loose from his mother's grip. “I already told you, mother,” he says pointedly. “He was awful, he made me feel awful, and I had an awful time with him. In no way do I wish for him to ‘consider me again’.”

Now he doesn't have to worry about Regulus being placed by Rabastan’s side in his stead anymore, Sirius does not allow there to be any confusion regarding his feelings towards the man.

“You insolent little…”

While her mother is still hissing insults under her breath, Sirius simply walks off into the crowd. At least his mother can't cause a scene in a place as public as this.

Sirius wanders through the crowd aimlessly, trying to ignore lingering gazes and avoid people trying to stop him for a conversation.

“You disappeared on me,” a voice behind him suddenly says.

“Rabastan,” Sirius says, as he turns around.

“People said some waiter was bothering you, and that you left with him,” Rabastan continues. “But surely even you can't be that desperate for attention that you would sink so low.”

Sirius forces himself to smile. “I felt miserable at that event, while you seemed to be enjoying yourself a great deal. The waiter suggested stepping outside, and I agreed, so you could stay and enjoy your night.” There. Technically the truth, without implying any ill intentions towards Rabastan.

“I know what you're doing, Black,” Rabastan says, taking a step forward. “You're playing hard to get, hoping that by letting me think I can't have you, I'm only going to want you more.” He grins in a way that makes Sirius’ skin crawl. “Well, let me tell you,” Rabastan suddenly takes another step forward, crowding Sirius’ space, placing one hand on his waist and leaning down, whispering so close that his lips almost brush Sirius’ ear. “You're absolutely right.”

Sirius freezes, completely taken off guard. Just when he jerks his head back, he hears a voice behind him.

“Mister Black? There's a phone call for you at the front desk.”

Gratefully, Sirius turns towards the receptionist from the high-class hotel the party is being held at.

“If you could follow me please?” The young blond woman requests in a measured, polite tone.

Sirius nods and rushes after her, eager to get away from Rabastan.

“So, where do I-?” Sirius begins as he approaches the front desk, but then he hears a voice behind him.

“Hi there, don't you look fetching.”

Sirius whirls around. “Remus!” He exclaims, his face lighting up. “What are you doing here?”

Remus grins at him. “I'm here to steal you away.”

“Oh?” Sirius asks, raising an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

“Yup,” Remus replies, jumping from the table he had been sitting on. “Not to sound arrogant– I mean, if you want to listen to arrogant men, staying at this party actually seems like the best option– but I think I can give you a better time than you can have here.”

“Well,” Sirius says. “Only one way to find out, I suppose.” He holds out his hand. “Lead the way.”

Sirius’ stomach does a flip at the bright smile Remus directs at him. Remus takes his hand and starts dragging Sirius towards the door. “Thanks a million, Marls!” He calls over his shoulder. “I owe you big time!”

“Don't you worry, Lupin,” the receptionist replies, sounding a lot less professional than before. “I'll figure out a way for you to make it up to me. And you were right, by the way,” she adds, leaning with her elbows on her desk and resting her chin on her hand. “He is very dreamy.”

“What is that?”

“It's not the newest model,” Remus admits. “And it's a bit rusty here and there, but I promise you that it does the job. It'll work perfectly fine as our getaway-”

“Bicycle,” Sirius finishes dryly.

“And what's wrong with a bicycle?” Remus asks airily. “It's dependable, a lot more inconspicuous than a motorcycle if you want to sneak away, and a lot less polluting.”

“I thought you loved my motorcycle!” Sirius gasps.

Remus looks at Sirius from over his shoulder as he unlocks his bike. “I love the sight of you on your motorcycle,” he smirks.

“I'll take it,” Sirius laughs.

While a bicycle might be inconspicuous, Sirius and Remus are anything but. After three failed attempts of Remus cycling in a slow pace so Sirius can jump on the back to sit on the carrier, both of them are laughing so hard hotel guests are peering out the windows to see what that's all about.

Eventually they succeed, and when Sirius has his arms wrapped around Remus from behind, tighter than strictly necessary, and his cheek rests against Remus’ back, he realizes bicycles really aren't so bad.

“You're going to murder me, aren't you?” Sirius complains. “This is how I die. This is what I get for going off with strange men.”

Remus just chuckles as he leads Sirius up the narrow, wooden stairs of the old, dingy flat he brought Sirius to. When they finally reach a rusty door at the top of the final flight of stairs, Remus unlocks it with a key he fishes from his pocket and pushes the squeaky door open.

“Wow,” Sirius whispers.

There's a small space where the rooftop is flat, and from which you can overlook all of London. The space is covered by a blanket, and on the blanket are a cheap bottle of champagne and two glasses, plus a box of leftover Christmas cookies.

“You like it?” Remus asks softly, taking Sirius’ hand.

“Like it?” Sirius beams at Remus as he turns towards him. “Remus, I love it!”

From their spot, they have a perfect view over all the fireworks lighting up the sky above London. While the fireworks must be quite a beautiful sight, Sirius can't imagine it can compare to the look in Remus’ eyes before he kisses him at midnight.

Their lips meet while fireworks explode above their heads, unnoticed. When they break apart, they rest their foreheads together and gaze into each other's eyes with similar smiles on their faces.

“You know,” Sirius whispers, taking Remus’ hand and tangling their fingers together. “If you keep stealing me away like this, at some point I'm not going to want to return.”

Remus smiles. “You know,” he says, while reaching out to brush a strand of hair behind Sirius’ ear. “At some point I'm not going to want to let you go.”

[another-lost-mc]

I have a thought... What would your OCs do when they find out about the incident where Belphegor killed MC (let's say your OCS are really close to MC)

The demons have the worst reaction, assuming that the angels aren't in the Devildom and don't learn about this until much later.

AZRA & ZEE

They find out the same way. Asmo spills the beans to Azra about some family drama but reassures him (to a suspicious degree) that things are fine and MC's okay.

"Something happened with Belphie, but...well, Barbatos fixed it!"

Belphie? The same Belphie that's supposed to be in the human world? Nah, that doesn't check. They know something is definitely wrong.

Azra heads over to the House of Lamentation after collecting one or two of his favourite weapons from his private collection. "There's nothing wrong, *eye twitch* I'm just going to visit MC and have a little chat with the others." Most of his blame for what happened falls on Lucifer because he's basically Diavolo's right-hand man and MC is staying with him and his family. How is this not his fault? Azra invites MC to stay at his home and no, he doesn't care what Lucifer thinks about that.

Zee is the wild card. The others can't anticipate the level of anger or violence he's capable of when he snaps. You know, typical wrath demon things. If he shows up at the House of Lamentation in a bloodlust-fueled rage, can anyone really blame him? Underestimating him might be something they regret later on. He's bigger and stronger in his demon form but most demons don't know that. It takes more than one sibling to keep him from getting his hands on Belphie. Hopefully MC's brave enough to try and talk him down - it's probably the only thing that'll work. (He blames everyone involved for failing to protect MC, but he blames Belphie and Lucifer the most.) Once he's calmed down and reassured that MC is unharmed physically, he desperately wants to take them home with him.

KARASU

I expanded on this a while back, but it's basically what you would expect from him. He's very worried about MC, he's concerned about their safety in the House of Lamentation, and he's staying there or he's taking MC back to his nest. No, it's not a request and yes, he's very very angry and doing his best not to show it (for MC's sake). His protectiveness is in overdrive and there's not much that's going to calm him down until he can be absolutely certain that MC is fine. Mammon's probably the one that tells him what happened if MC doesn't (or if Karasu doesn't see something when checking all the erratic D.D.D. activity during that time). He's also the best mediator between Karasu, who is as angry as he's ever seen him, and his brothers.

TENEBRIS

He's instantly suspicious the moment Diavolo calls him and starts his explanation with, "I want to emphasize before I say anymore that MC is fine." Tenebris blames his brother as the face of the exchange program and the realm's leader - he promised to keep MC and the others safe, and obviously he didn't do that. He wants to stay close to MC and asks to stay at the House of Lamentation, or that they both stay at the castle where there's some distance between MC and the demon brothers who he doesn't trust very much right now.

BELIAL

Chances are that he only learns what happened when MC contacts him directly. It's not unusual for a day or two to pass without hearing from MC, but when he finally does, he can tell there's something wrong. The truth of it - or what MC shares with him - is enough to send him in a bit of a tailspin. He hasn't had much reason to pick a fight with Lucifer or his siblings before - he's been respectful enough since they joined him on the other side. He never considered making a fuss or picking fights with them, but it's never too late to start. Punching Lucifer in his smug face might make him feel better, if only for a minute or two, but he has to reign in his impulses so that he doesn't make things worse. MC probably wouldn't like it if he set the House of Lamentation on fire either, so he wants to take them home with him. He'll make sure Diavolo hears his grievances personally once MC is safe and under his protection.

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

I just saw the excellent post about Chuuya's loyalty and 1) how he hasn't questioned his philosophy and 2) "In a world where a "path" typically involves challenging the characters' philosophies and forcing them to reevaluate, what the hell is going to have to happen to get Chuuya to do the same?" (quoting you)

Chuuya is always used by others. He's not the only BSD character whose been taken advantage of, but it does seem to be reoccurring with him? First by the government who intended to use him as a super weapon, then by the Sheep who used him for his ability, then by mafia/Mori (getting him to join in exchange for sparing the sheep, keeping his past from him and giving him incentive to become an executive and stay in the organization). He's constantly used for his power.

Please tell me if I'm misinterpreting what you all said, but it seems (to me) that Chuuya ignores the mafia's/Mori's manipulation because they have helped him and given him a home+family, so he's instead loyal to them.

Because even though Mori has not and is using him for his power, he still allows it/goes along with it because they've helped him in the past and earned his loyalty.

So Chuuya tolerates being used.

He's now being used again, obviously, in part, because of his power. We have Fyodor referring to him as just his ability and bragging about how he can "use" him better than Dazai ("doesn't that mean you're unfit to USE a gravity manipulator")

Do you think it's possible that just being vamped and used again will cause him to reflect on his mentality? He's once again being used (but be it in far more blatant way: literal mind control. Also reminds me of Verlaine+his creator). Reflecting on how he's been used in the past and no longer accepting being used by others anymore?

Or do you think it might have the opposite affect and push him deeper into the mafia somehow

Also it's interesting that Fyodor is using him but hasn't earned his loyalty (like the sheep+mafia) and how that'll affect Chuuya

I'll get to the second ask in a bit but I'm combining these because they're related.

About the first ask: I mean, yeah, you're right about this. I don't know that I'd consider it so much "ignoring" though as "the benefits outweigh the costs so whatever", and I do want to state that I'm pretty sure Mori is genuinely at least a little fond of Chuuya (see: their conversation about leadership at the end of Fifteen), and his Mafia colleagues do respect him.

But yeah, you are absolutely right to say that there is a pattern of people who want Chuuya for his ability and his loyalty, and/or reduced him down to these traits. Playing hot potato with the escaped military lab experiment and the Mafia won (<-simplification for the funnies but still).

But here's the thing: if this was the end of it, we might expect to see some resentment mixed in there from Chuuya. He was blackmailed with the Sheep's lives. His past was intentionally locked away from him until he worked his way up to executive. That's... not great.

But instead we find pretty much only gratitude from him. Why?

Well, see, there's a reason I put the return of Chuuya's screwed up self-concept in the tags on that post, because it's kind of at the heart of his impressive loyalty. Chuuya believes that since he is the one with the strongest power, that makes him responsible for protecting everyone else, which means that he rationalizes any concern or protection directed at him as something "above and beyond", and worthy of recognition and repayment. Remember that he genuinely felt like just a vessel for power and nothing else for apparently quite a bit of his childhood, and the Sheep emphasizing that he owed them for taking him in probably did not help.

When it comes to having his back, the Mafia did this for him in a way no one else did. They protect their own, a value that aligns closely with Chuuya's own personal philosophy. The Mafia is also relatively safe from external threat, if we recall Dazai's pitch to Odasaku in Day I Picked Up Dazai - Odasaku is being targeted, but no one in their right mind would challenge the Mafia just to get to him. So, the Mafia has provided Chuuya with protection, comradery, and relative safety, which in my mind all condenses into a central need that takes precedence over everything else to him.

Chuuya's core need is actually stability.

And this makes quite a bit of sense. He started off as a kid with no memories and a whole lot of trauma he couldn't remember the roots of. One's past is a source of stability, but that had been taken from him. His position as leader of the Sheep was shaky. Even his identity as a human being was called into question. Chuuya as a kid and teen was largely untethered, separate from everyone else with no way to ground himself. Under those circumstances, something that originated as a chain could easily become a safety rope.

And once Chuuya found this stability, there was really no need for him to change anything. So he didn't. He settled into his new role and became really, really good at it, and didn't bother to re-evaluate beyond that. Why would he? That minimal core need has been met, despite the rocky beginning.

Which brings me to this second ask because it's actually incredibly relevant. Yes, Chuuya and Sigma are alike. You are not losing it anon.

Let's run a list, shall we? They both awoke with no memories and a missing history, and had their humanity called into question. They were used and blackmailed repeatedly, which they were, fortunately and unfortunately, consciously aware of. When they find something that matters to them, they become violently defensive of it. They both operate on principles of reciprocity and transaction because that is what they believe to be normal in relationships (Sigma's ability even is quite literally a transaction!). They both have pretty low standards for their assistance (Sigma hearing one (1) single person (Atsushi) be kind to him in what he thought were his last moments, Chuuya "You have helped Chuuya! Chuuya will now kill and die for you!" Nakahara).

Above all else, they are looking for stability. They are looking for a home.

As of yet, Sigma hasn't found a true home, but it seems we may be building up to him joining the ADA. The key part is Sigma's realization that the Agency doesn't rely solely on transaction. Dazai is not using the Agency, the Agency is not using Dazai. The Agency members are all helping each other. They care about each other.

Meanwhile, Chuuya has already found a place that provides his core need, but there's one caveat about the Mafia that should be clarified here - as Odasaku says in Dark Era, people within its ranks don't talk about personal matters and feelings with each other, and everyone instead keeps to themselves. If you don't talk about your issues or air them out, relations tend to stay personally shallow and dictated almost entirely by the demands and positions of the organization. This is not a conducive environment for reappraisal or self-exploration.

Unfortunately, this is ideal for Mr. Chuuya "I'll keep all my emotions right here and then one day I'll die" Nakahara.

Chuuya has found some measure of stability - solace in his own self-defined identity in spite of the initial ambiguity as to his humanity. "This is who I am", "Till those flames die down, I can't just do whatever I want", "I'm gonna do what I need to do", etc. But importantly, this identity is entangled in whichever group he happens to be a part of, which in this case is the Mafia. This kind of self-identity cannot exist without the structure of an organization. It relies on the reciprocity of a group.

Moreover, it relies on Chuuya showing very little vulnerability. Compartmentalize, and move on. He expects that of himself.

So, we've established that Chuuya has his core need for stability met by the Mafia - a relatively secure place that runs on transaction, which is familiar to him - yet it also doesn't push him out of his comfort zone with respect to emotional vulnerability and openness. What this means is that, in the Mafia, Chuuya is practically invincible, both physically (his ability, his martial arts prowess) and emotionally (personal life kept hidden and guarded as a Mafia expectation).

Unfortunately, this means Chuuya also remains stagnant as a character, which finally, finally brings me back to your original question anon.

No, I don't think the vampirism is enough to trigger change in Chuuya's character. Chuuya has some standards, and treating him like a tool (and Dazai's tool, no less) is going to seriously piss him off, but that's anger at Fyodor, and it doesn't impact his stability with the Mafia any which way. If Chuuya had've been forced to activate Corruption to escape the drowning then maybe he would've been angry with Dazai enough for something to shift (activation being his own choice is a huge theme with them), but since he didn't, I expect Chuuya will unfortunately just shrug it off and roll with it. Probably yell at him for a bit, but nothing that would have far-reaching consequences for his character unless there is something about his current situation we don't yet know.

I think for Chuuya to grow and change as a character, he needs something major to shift in his life - the threat has to come from within his place of security. He needs to be destabilized. Something needs to happen that specifically targets his tethers and his self-concept.

Personally, my money's on the destabilization of his bond with Mori, who he has the most respect for, because that might trigger development related to leadership and goals, but I guess we'll see. I think it'll probably be incredibly heart wrenching and hurt us all severely, whatever it is.

Huh. I wrote a lot. Congrats for making it to the end! I'm going to sleep now. :D

—

Edited by removing the entire middle section because it was absolute garbage and probably should’ve been its own post. I hope the rest of this holds up. That’s what I get for writing things at 2 in the morning I guess.

[teeheepicmickey]

Regarding the Disney Boycott and Epic Mickey: Rebrushed

I was extremely excited when Epic Mickey: Rebrushed was announced- and it seemed like so many other people were ecstatic as well. But now that some time has passed, I'm realizing that the Disney boycott is a major concern for the sales of the game. Rebrushed is being released at the worst possible time. As much as I've seen people excited for the game, I've also seen people planning to pirate it so they can enjoy the game and participate in the boycott. However, I've also been witnessing evidence that Disney wouldn't profit as much from the game's sales after selling the copyrights to the developers. It'd be the developers making the most money and being supported for their efforts. Compared to the empire that is Disney, and all the things they're making money off of, Epic Mickey is a minuscule part and not going to make much of a difference at all in the boycott.  I was discussing this with a friend and they wrote: "My heart goes out to everyone suffering through and impacted by the conflict right now. It's truly atrocious for everyone involved, especially with the lives at stake, and I agree with the boycott's goal of refusing to support Disney. This is something that matters heavily. Unfortunately, to truly boycott Disney, you'd have to boycott all future Marvel projects, I'm talking not even give a second of those projects your time, all future Disney/Pixar movies, they gotta make $0, stop buying half the produce in the grocery store funded/supported/farmed by Disney, all of views on ABC and ESPN would have to drop to 0, no more sports, gotta boycott all future Star Wars projects, all of 21st Century Fox, pretty much just entertainment can't exist anymore if we want to thoroughly boycott Disney. That's why including Epic Mickey: Rebrushed of all things- especially when this post (a post I showed of an explanation that Disney sold the Epic Mickey Copyrights to the developers) is right, yeah Disney still makes money but not the bulk of it, the company making it is- is really silly. You're not going to collectively show Disney "who's boss" by not buying this game that they hardly have a hand in, that's such a childish point of view. You'd have to get the entire world on the same page to stop letting Disney profit and to no longer spend money on things they have their hand in, and unfortunately, Disney has their hand in a lot. Hollywood as a whole would have to truly shut down if you wanted to boycott Disney to send them a message. Disney is gonna make money regardless. If you truly wanna speak with your wallet, cancel your Disney Plus subscriptions. If even like 40% of those get canceled within the next week, that'll send a huge and alarming message to Disney. Stay out of theaters for the next Disney/Pixar movies. Marvel. Star Wars. Don't watch those projects, especially on their streaming services. Don't watch any videos they post to their official channels. Don't Like or give views to their Tweets and posts. To hurt them, you have to hurt where their cash cows are, and Epic Mickey is NOT their cash cow. It's barely struggling to survive as it is, and the dedicated team reviving the cult classic is doing their best to bring it to us. They have nothing to do with upper Disney's decisions. Killing something that's already down would truly be on us. Leave the game alone" (there's another paragraph to this but for some reason tumblr won't let me post it on the same post- so it'll be reblogged!! ) PLEASE CHECK THE REBLOGGED POST ON THIS ACCOUNT!!!  

[maniculum]

Bestiaryposting Results: Rubkawat

Here are the results to this week's bestiaryposting -- still only a few people on board for this one, really hoping this is just because people are sick of Birds. As usual, if you are confused by what I'm talking about, you can find out about it at: https://maniculum.tumblr.com/bestiaryposting.

The entry our artists are working from is here:

Results below the cut, in roughly chronological order:

@silverhart-makes-art (link to post here) has again given us a realistic-looking creature drawn in an impressive naturalistic style. It is distinctly skinny as the entry suggests, with a pointy beak for its stabbing behavior. The explanation linked in the above post notes that this design takes inspiration from the kiwi and the bittern, which makes sense and I think works well here. Cute little bastard, too -- look at him. I think it can hiding in reeds very well. (This one is in reeds currently. Or grass at least.)

@sweetlyfez (link to post here) notes that the blood thing is almost certainly a Biblical allegory, but she likes the idea that it's just a reinterpretation of natural red coloration. I agree -- it definitely is an allegory, as the Aberdeen Bestiary makes clear in the "interpretation" section I usually leave out of these:

Thus after three days, it revives its young with its blood, as Christ saves us, whom he has redeemed with his own blood.

... but I think I much prefer it as a fanciful interpretation of a natural feather pattern. Also, check out those Stylized Plants. I know I'm kind of a broken record about this, but over the course of this project, one thing I have learned about myself is that I am unaccountably delighted by Stylized Plants every time. These are thematically appropriate for a bird said to live in Egypt -- they look like they would fit right in with ancient Egyptian depictions of papyrus reeds or lotus flowers. Apologies to anyone who is tired of me pointing out the Stylized Plants at every opportunity; it will happen again.

@cheapsweets (link to post here) is clearly having some fun with these, based on the tone of their (detailed and interesting) post about the design and artistic process, please go read that. (Also thank you for including alt text.) Apparently they were informed by @coolest-capybara that their Rubkawat chicks resemble Woodstock from Peanuts, and... you know what? I see it. What I particularly like here is the decision to fill the nest with a cartoonishly large amount of blood -- I just find it charming in a way I can't articulate. Just... just hose those chicks down, that'll fix them.

@coolest-capybara (link to post here) never disappoints with her medieval stylization. I am delighted with the decision to make the Rubkawat a flamingo -- the linked post explains that this is inspired by flamingos having red crop milk, which is not something I know about because I am not a Bird Expert. I also really like the sequential-art style of the chicks at the bottom, so we can see them being resurrected by the blood. The one on the right makes me smile, because it looks very much like it's contemplating the blood on it and thinking, like, "...ew."

@pomrania (link to post here) is Tired of Birds, so they decided this one could be a dinosaur -- technically a bird, just not a modern one. I like it; dinosaurs are great. They've also taken the route of deciding the story about resurrecting chicks with blood is just a fanciful interpretation of red feathers, which I still like. (In the linked post, they explain their design decision and artistic process in detail, go look at it.) Also look at that little chick -- it's darling.

Pretty much everyone involved here said something along the lines of "I absolutely know what bird this is supposed to be because I've heard this myth before", which I suppose shouldn't be surprising. I don't know how widespread that particular bit of trivia is in the general population, but in the demographics of "people who follow this blog about medieval stuff" and/or "people who like playing with bestiary entries", I figure it's probably pretty well-known. So here's the Aberdeen Bestiary version:

Yes, this is the pelican.

The birds in the illumination don't particularly look like pelicans, though apparently one doesn't really find them in Western Europe, so I suppose that's to be expected. (Particularly since the entry doesn't describe their most identifiable physical feature, the beak / throat pouch arrangement.) The fact that pelicans are associated with Egypt and apparently don't really show up in most of Europe is surprising to me -- I grew up on the east coast of the U.S. and saw pelicans all the time, so I kind of just assumed they were common to other Atlantic coasts. But you know what they say about assuming.

Anyway, for anyone who didn't know about the story with the pelican and the blood, versions of this were pretty widespread in the medieval period. It was a sufficiently popular symbol that it found its way into heraldry -- the pelican in her piety is a heraldic device that shows the pelican wounding its own breast while standing over its young. (In some versions of the story, it feeds its young with the blood rather than using it to resurrect them.) Not only is it still present in surviving heraldry, but it also occasionally appears in more modern contexts, like the Louisiana state flag:

You can decide yourself whether this information changes your opinion on whether, as this post claims, a pelican mouth is a good place for a baby: (link to post).

That's about all the pelican material I have, but allow me to leave you with a song (which is itself part of an old Edward Lear poem set to music):