#The Man with the Deadly Lens

[e-louise-bates]

Definitely adding more action to the final quarter of Magic Most Deadly than there was in the original version. Len just punched a butler in the nose and then locked him in a telephone cabinet.

[reidmarieprentiss]

Unauthorized Documentary 0.5

Summary: Matthew Gray Gubler is filming his untitled documentary, you hate it (not really).

Pairing: Matthew Gray Gubler x fem!reader

Category: fluff

Warnings/Includes: fake arguing, fake fighting, mean reader (it's fake)

Word count: 1.6k

a/n: i am rewatching the documentaries right now and i need this man so bad

main masterlist

“I am not Matthew’s girlfriend,” you sighed heavily, rolling your eyes in exasperation. “I have no idea why he keeps telling people that.”

The camera panned slightly, focusing on your expression as the cameraman shrugged nonchalantly. His lack of input only seemed to fuel your irritation.

Turning sharply to face the lens, you stared directly into it with a deadly serious expression. With an intense tone, you declared, “Let me make this absolutely clear for anyone dumb enough to be watching anything about Matthew Garbler — I have never, and will never, date that pathetic freak.”

The silence that followed hung in the air, your words ringing with unapologetic finality.

The camera pulled back slightly, catching more of the chaotic surroundings: a cluttered dressing room filled with mismatched furniture, half-empty coffee cups, and a life-size cardboard cutout of Matthew Gray Gubler in a pirate hat.

From behind the camera, a voice asked, dripping with sarcasm, “So you’re saying there’s no chance for a romantic subplot?”

You groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Romantic subplot? This isn’t some trashy rom-com. This is real life! And in real life, I wouldn’t date Matthew if he was the last human being on this planet. I’d rather marry the cardboard cutout.” You gestured dramatically at the pirate Matthew, who seemed to smirk mockingly at you.

The cameraman snorted. “Right. But you’re still his assistant?”

“I’m his manager,” you snapped, your eyes narrowing. “And don’t you dare forget it. I keep that lunatic’s life from imploding every single day. And what do I get in return? A stupid title on this dumb documentary and people thinking I’m his girlfriend? Unbelievable.”

—

Later, the camera turns on Matthew, his brow furrowed and his expression caught somewhere between confusion and mild panic. “She said what?” he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.

From behind the camera, a voice awkwardly clarified, “Uh, she said she’s not your girlfriend.”

Matthew’s eyes widened for a moment before narrowing slightly. He made a quick hand motion, his tone turning sharp. “Show me the footage.”

The screen jumps back to Matthew as he watches the clip. He forces an uncomfortable laugh, scratching the back of his neck. “She’s so funny,” he says, his voice cracking slightly. “That’s just how Y/N is… she likes to joke around like that.”

The camera slowly pans away, catching you in the background, deep in conversation with one of the producers. Your body language is animated, your irritation still evident as you gestured emphatically.

“Fuck,” Matthew mutters under his breath, the nervousness in his voice escalating. He whirls around, shouting over his shoulder, “Cut that, cut all that!”

Before anyone can respond, he bolts from the set, his hurried footsteps fading as the shot lingers awkwardly on the empty doorway he’s just fled through.

—

While you were giving another uncomfortable interview for the cameraman, the door burst open, and Matthew himself waltzed in, juggling three cups of coffee. “Guess what, everyone! I’ve decided to legally change my name to ‘Gublé,’ like the singer, but with pizzazz. Thoughts? Be honest but supportive.”

You turned to the camera, your mouth slightly agape as if asking the audience for strength. “This is my life.”

“Wait,” Matthew cut in, setting the coffee cups precariously on a stack of scripts. “Did you tell them about us?” His eyes sparkled mischievously.

You rolled your eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t fall out of your head. “For the hundredth time, there is no ‘us.’ There never was and never will be!”

“Ah, denial,” Matthew said wistfully, draping himself across the nearest chair like a Victorian maiden. “It’s the first stage of acceptance, you know.”

The cameraman’s voice chimed in again, amused. “That’s grief.”

“Well, I’m grieving her lack of enthusiasm for our undeniable chemistry!” Matthew quipped, pointing dramatically at you before turning to the camera. “Did you catch that? That’s good TV, folks. Make sure you zoom in on her frustration—it’s practically Shakespearean.”

You threw up your hands in defeat. “I’m quitting,” you declared, marching toward the door. “I’m leaving, and I’m never coming back.”

“Wait!” Matthew leaped up, his tin foil cape trailing behind him. “Before you go, do you want one of these coffees? I got your favorite!”

You stopped, turning slowly. “No.”

—

You stormed into Matthew’s trailer, not bothering to knock. He was sitting on the edge of a couch, exaggeratedly flipping through a script as he was recorded, but the moment he saw your expression, his face fell.

“Stop,” you said sharply, pointing a finger at him. “Stop telling people I’m your girlfriend. It’s weird as fuck, Matthew.”

He blinked, momentarily stunned, before awkwardly laughing and setting the script aside. “Oh, come on, Y/N. It’s just for the bit—it makes the show more, you know, engaging.”

You crossed your arms, glaring at him. “Engaging for who? Because I don’t think the fake audience gives a shit about your fake relationship narrative. And I’m certainly not here for it.”

Matthew shifted uncomfortably, avoiding your gaze. “I mean, technically, it’s not really fake—”

Your jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”

“Well,” he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck, “we’ve spent a lot of time together. People see that and, you know, assume things. I just… lean into it.”

“You lean into it?” you repeated incredulously. “Matthew, no one is assuming anything. You’re making it up and then selling it like a damn tabloid story!”

He held up his hands defensively. “Okay, okay, you’re right. I’ll stop. I swear. I’ll—” He paused, his eyes darting to the camera peeking through the crack in the door. “Is this… are we filming right now?”

You turned your head sharply to catch the lens disappearing behind the door frame. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Matthew grimaced. “It’s for the show?”

You groaned, dragging a hand down your face. “Matthew. Fix it. Now.”

“I will!” he promised, scrambling to his feet. “I’ll tell them it was all a misunderstanding. Like, tomorrow. Maybe.”

“Today,” you snapped, pointing at him one last time before turning on your heel to leave. “Or I’m moving to another continent, got it?”

Matthew sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Okay, okay. I’ll stop. I promise. No more telling people we’re together.”

You stared at him for a long moment, your arms still crossed. “You’d better,” you said firmly. “Because if I hear one more person ask me what our anniversary is or how you proposed, I’m going to lose it.”

“Got it,” he said quickly, nodding like a chastised child. “No more fake girlfriend stories. Swear on my vintage ghost-hunting equipment.”

“Good,” you said, heading for the door. But just as you reached for the handle, you turned back one last time. “And for the record? If you ever pull this stunt again, I’ll leak the footage of you crying at craft services over them being out of grape soda.”

Matthew gasped, clutching his chest in mock horror. “You wouldn’t.”

“Try me,” you deadpanned before slamming the door behind you.

Inside the trailer, Matthew let out a long, defeated sigh before muttering under his breath, “She totally loves me.”

—

After the cameras had been packed up for the day and the set was finally quiet, you made your way to Matthew’s trailer. The door was slightly ajar, and you knocked softly before stepping inside. He was mid-way through changing out of his Spencer Reid clothes, tugging off the familiar cardigan with his back turned to you.

“Hey,” you greeted, a playful grin tugging at your lips.

Matthew spun around quickly, his face lighting up with a matching smile the moment he saw you. “Hi, love,” he said warmly, walking over to you without hesitation. His hands found your waist as he pulled you closer. His expression softened as he asked, “Are we okay?” There was a hint of hesitation in his voice, like he was bracing for a blow.

You tilted your head, confusion flickering across your face. “Of course, baby,” you replied, your hand instinctively reaching up to cup his cheek. Your thumb brushed against the slight stubble there as you searched his eyes. “Why wouldn’t we be?”

Matthew let out an awkward laugh, his grip tightening slightly as if to ground himself. “You were just... really convincing today,” he admitted, his words tumbling out with a sheepish smile.

“Oh, that?” you chuckled softly, rolling your eyes. “Matthew, you know I have to sell it, or the bit doesn’t land. That’s the whole point, right? It’s supposed to be funny.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, though the nervous edge in his laugh hadn’t quite disappeared. “But for a second there, I thought you actually hated me.”

Your expression softened at his words, and you leaned in to press a quick kiss to his lips. “I could never hate you,” you murmured against his mouth. “You’re ridiculous, sure. Annoying sometimes? Definitely. But I love you, even when you make up insane fake-girlfriend narratives.”

A relieved grin spread across his face as he leaned his forehead against yours. “Good,” he said softly. “Because I really don’t want to get in trouble with my real girlfriend.”

You laughed, your fingers threading through his hair. “Well, you’re not off the hook just yet,” you teased, a mischievous glint in your eye. “You owe me dinner for all the grief you caused today.”

“Done,” Matthew replied instantly, his smile turning playful. “But only if you promise not to leak that grape soda footage. My reputation depends on it.”

“Depends on how good the dinner is,” you shot back with a smirk.

“Challenge accepted,” he said, his lips capturing yours again in a kiss that promised he’d make it up to you.

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[danmei-confessions]

I think we should talk about Wu Zetian, China’s only female emperor, who historically has been regarded as a horrible and brutal leader.

She was born a commoner, became a concubine to one emperor, married his son and then took the role of emperor for herself when he died. She was politically adept, highly ambitious and extraordinarily intelligent.

History has accused her of smothering her newly born daughter and blaming a rival for her death. She had that rivals hands and feet cut off and then had her thrown into a vat of wine in which she was left to drown. She gouged out another rivals eyes and had acid poured down her throat. She wiped out 12 entire branches of a clan. She poisoned her mother. Just how accurate these things are is up for debate, but while these things might not all be true, she certainly did have several family members killed. And she did deal with her rivals and her detractors ruthlessly. Yet none of these things would have attracted criticism if she had been a man. She was no more scandalous than any other ruler during that time period.

But! Her rule was peaceful and prosperous. She avoided wars and welcomed ambassadors from as far away as the Byzantine empire. She changed laws so common people could be chosen for roles in government for their abilities rather than their name or status. She acknowledged and acted on criticisms from her retainers. She built watchtowers along the Silk Road so merchants wouldn’t be harrowed by bandits. Her reign saw women given more freedom(the ability to divorce, hold government positions, travel, hunt and ride horses, to be recognized by scholars).

She supported Buddhism and helped the religion spread and grow through commissioning temples, monasteries, and even a statue of the Buddha said to be carved in her own likeness. In the eyes of the common people, she likely would have been an incredibly popular ruler.

She remains a controversial figure primarily because of stories about her personal actions against her rivals by male Confucian officials who were prejudiced against strong and ambitious women and while they undoubtedly exaggerated aspects of Wu’s life, there is still substantial verifiable evidence of her ruthlessness.

We should also be aware that although she allegedly held her power through murder and merciless, according to Confucian philosophy, ‘while an emperor should not be condemned for acts that would be crimes in a subject, he should be judged harshly for allowing the state to fall into anarchy’ and viewed under this lens, Wu did effectively fulfill her duties as a ruler.

So we have a leader of ancient china who had two faces, one who committed acts of vile cruelty against her family and rivals and one who gave her citizens peace and prosperity.

Through a modern lens she can be viewed as an evil woman who rose from humble beginnings and coldly and calculatingly murdered her way into arguably the most powerful position in the world. A rich woman who threw crumbs to her peasant people while she lived luxuriously. She is a deadly woman, a black widow, an evil stepmother, a kinslayer. But according to historians, “without Wu there would have been no long enduring Tang dynasty and perhaps no lasting unity of China.”

The comparison to a modern mr beast obviously doesn’t hold water, but we can certainly analyze jgy to a more comparable historical figure and argue more accurately in a historical context if jgy was a good leader as the de facto emperor as the cultivation worlds Xiāndū.

It’s easy to see the comparisons between Wu and jgy, both were undesirable and deemed unfit by society. But both were politically adept, highly ambitious and extraordinarily intelligent. Both had family members murdered, perhaps sharing between them filicide. Both had a clans murdered to a man. Both are thought to have had their faces carved on religious relics for their narcissistic pleasure. Both had watchtowers built as a defense for their people. And both were torn down by the men following after them, vilified and distorted. Both forever destined to be speculated upon and misunderstood. Both of their legacy’s destroyed by rumor and falsification. It would not surprise me in the slightest if mxtx didn’t draw on Wu at least a little bit in the creation of jgy. Both Wu and jgy are culpable for some pretty heinous stuff, that can’t be denied. But like Wu, jgy also has a second face.

Moral bias and character motivation aside, his efforts to build watchtowers, his patronage of religion in the building of Guanyin temple, his fight against political corruption, his years long peaceful reign, his charity, all these things lead to the conclusion that under the rule of Confucian, he more than aptly fulfilled his role as a leader for his citizens.

And if you really want to look at Jgys leadership through a modern lens, we really don’t have to look much further than Ingersoll. “If you want to find out what a man is to the bottom, give him power.”

And really that’s part of the tragedy of his character. Because of his background he excelled when he was in a role of leadership. He was good at it.

Whether or not jgy as a literary character is a good person, is subjective and should not be used to measure his role as an effective leader.

All of that being said, jgy is my bestfriend and I love him and would I die for him.

.

[cera-writes]

Could I request Scott summers x reader with a similar eye mutation. The reader has a gorgon mutation and can turn people to stone, and they meet/ bond over not being able to see properly, eventually getting into a relationship.

A/N: I love this idea! It's so sweet! Tags: just sweet fluff with a shared understanding

A Shared Burden

The sterile walls of the X-Mansion medbay felt like a cage after the chaotic awakening of your mutation. Professor Xavier had explained the X-Men, a sanctuary for mutants like you. But 'sanctuary' didn't quite describe the prickling anxiety that crawled under your skin after Beast's in-depth examination of your petrifying gaze.

Hank had loaned you a pair of mutant specialty eyewear. It was a revelation that dawned on you now. You'd never be able to take them off with turning someone into a slab of concrete; or at the very least, controlling your deadly eyesight.

The door creaked open, revealing a tall man with a kind smile. "Hey there," he said, his voice gentle. "You must be (Y/N). I'm Scott, Scott Summers. Cyclops is fine too."

You offered a weak smile. "Nice to meet you, Scott. Though I wouldn't exactly call turning people to stone a mutant power you'd advertise in the brochure."

He chuckled, a sound that eased the tense knot in your stomach. "Yeah, well, Hank can be a bit… thorough. But hey, at least you get a cool codename out of it. Any ideas?"

You shrugged, a touch of self-deprecation tinging your voice. "Haven't really thought about it. Maybe something Gorgon-related, considering I turn people to stone with a glance. I mean, Medusa would be way too cliche."

Scott's smile softened. "Your power… it's tough, I imagine. But you're not alone. We all have things to deal with here." He gestured towards his head, the unspoken reference clear.

A silent understanding bloomed between you. Scott knew what it was like to live in a world where you had to be constantly on guard, where your very nature made you an outsider. There was a shared burden in his gaze, a quiet empathy.

"How about we get you settled into your room?" Scott suggested, his voice warm. "Maybe tomorrow we can start figuring out how to control your… uh… petrifying gaze."

The following days were dedicated to navigating your mutation. Scott, ever patient, was your guide. You practiced focusing your gaze, not on turning things to stone, but on dampening the overwhelming sensory input that triggered your power. He understood the struggle to keep your emotions in check, the constant battle to avoid accidentally turning someone into a statue.

Slowly, with Scott's steady support, progress came. You actually did learn to somewhat control the intensity of your gaze, to filter the world through your special glasses that dampened your mutant sight but allowed you to function.

One evening, after a particularly grueling training session, you and Scott found yourselves on the balcony overlooking the X-Mansion grounds. You leaned against the railing, a comfortable silence settling between you. The setting sun cast a warm glow on the world, a world you could only perceive through a muted lens.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Scott said softly, his gaze fixed on the horizon.

"They say it is," you replied, a tinge of wistfulness in your voice.

Scott turned to you, a sincerity in his voice that resonated with you. "Maybe someday you'll see it all, (Y/N). But for now, you have something just as valuable."

He reached out, his hand hovering near yours. You mirrored the gesture, the space between your fingers tingling with unspoken emotions. "What's that?" you asked, a whisper that carried on the cool evening breeze.

Scott's smile, though unseen, was evident in the way his eyes crinkled at the edges. "Understanding. You're not alone. We both carry burdens, burdens that make us different, but also burdens that connect us."

In that moment, amidst the muted colors and the filtered light, you felt a warmth bloom in your chest that had nothing to do with the setting sun. You realized, with a jolt, that the hours spent training with Scott weren't just about mastering your power, they were about finding solace in shared experiences. The man beside you, with his unwavering support, was a beacon in a world that often felt isolating.

Weeks turned into months, and your bond with Scott deepened. You found comfort in his quiet strength, in the way he understood your struggles without needing words. You learned to communicate through subtle gestures, stolen glances, and shared laughter. One crisp autumn evening, as you sat by the window, a comfortable silence settling between you once more, Scott spoke.

"We may not see the world in the same way, (Y/N), but we see each other. And that's all that truly matters."

His words, laced with a quiet sincerity, sent a shiver down your spine. You met his gaze, a spark of understanding dancing in your own eyes. Perhaps you didn't need to see the world perfectly to find beauty. Perhaps the most vibrant colors existed in the warmth of shared understanding and the quiet promise whispered in the space between. As you leaned closer, the world blurring at the edges, you knew you had found a connection that transcended sight.

[drivinmeinsane]

COLT SEAVERS {Scene Partner}

{ drabble } ※ { masterlist }

※ Pairing: Colt Seavers x GN!Reader

※ Summary: The stunt guy gets recruited to stand in for your scene partner during a sex scene for a highly anticipated blockbuster.

※ Rating: 18+ for highly suggestive content (simulated sex)

※ Word count: 1,157

“If I’m not going to be the main focus of the lens, then forget it! I spent too long in the gym to get sidelined like this.”

You’re leaning against a headboard on the movie set watching as your co-star throws another tantrum. This is just another one of the many that he’s had over the course of filming. It’s been a rough two months and you’re already behind schedule as it is due to his theatrics. You groan and sag against the mattress. You hadn’t even particularly wanted to do the scene with him, but at this point you would gladly let him flex and posture all over you just to get it done so everyone could move forward.

The director desperately tries to talk him down, but he keeps shouting at her. Finally, he throws his hands up and loudly announces that he is not getting in bed shirtless with you because it won’t be a glamorous sex scene. He actually walks off set entirely.  There are a few tensely quiet moments while his agent chases him down and tries to beg the actor to set aside his arrogance and come back on set. The moment the agent returns empty handed with a defeated shake of his head, chaos erupts around you. 

They scramble to find a solution. Two of the crew are sent to find another blond man who could plausibly stand in as a body double for the scene. While they are away, the director and the writer desperately think if there is any possible reworking they can do for the script. Can they make this a solo scene? Edit your partner in later? And on and on they go.

The crew members come back shortly and they’re not alone. With them is a blond man, taller and broader than your co-star. He introduces himself as Colt from the stunt department. He’s distractedly handsome in a rugged sort of way. The stuntman is nothing but polite when he shakes your hand and greets you personally. His eyes crinkle when he smiles at you. You instantly agree to work with him.

The two of you get into position after he’s been prepped by the intimacy coordinator and had a brief explanation of the scene’s requirements. Your hands are on his waist, resting on the leather of his belt. He, for his part, has his fingers pressing into the arc of your spine, coaxing you towards his body with the lightest of touches. He looks almost shy. His hair is falling into his eyes in a way that makes you want to brush it back for him.

“Be gentle. It’s my first time,” he jokes.

You don’t have time to laugh before the scene director is calling quiet on set. You wipe the smile off your face and relax. Colt sobers up as well, looking deadly serious, like he is about to do something life threatening.

“Action!” The clapperboard snaps closed.

The scene starts with the two of you all but lunging towards each other. You meet in a kiss and your scene partner’s beard is rough against your face. His mouth is soft, he’s kissing you like he means it. Your hands clench on his waist and he moves things right along. The stuntman walks you back into the door that is pivotal for the scene. He kicks it open, hard, too hard. It slams into the wall with enough force to knock a hole into the plaster. You gasp into his mouth. A quiet groan answers it. 

Once in the room, you break the kiss and start fighting to get his shirt off. His hands meet yours and you’re working together to pull it over his head. The minute the garment is off and tossed aside, Colt is crowding against you, catching your mouth in another kiss while your hands splay across his chest. They're going to have to edit out his piercings, you realize faintly. If you were touching him under different circumstances, you would explore him in earnest. Learn everything there is to know about his body.

The backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed, and your mind short circuits when Colt wraps his hands around your waist and tosses you back onto the mattress like you weigh nothing. That had not been in the script. You’re not sure if you’re breathless from the impact or because he is suddenly crawling onto the bed after you. Your legs fall open automatically at the sight of him. For the scene, you’re wearing  modesty undergarments and an oversized shirt that suggests that it’s actually the only thing you have on. 

He slots himself easily between your spread legs and braces himself over you. He rests his forehead against yours and rolls his hips. The pressure is barely there from all the intimacy padding but all the same, the action has you clamping your thighs tightly against him. Irrationally, you wonder what he would feel like for real. You’re barely aware of the cameras, barely aware that this is a scene. It feels too real, too good to be acting. 

The blond man tucks his face against the side of your neck, hiding it from the camera’s eye. You feel the press of his mouth against your skin as he kisses the juncture of your shoulder. That wasn’t a necessary action, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. You bring a hand to the back of his head to encourage him, clenching your fingers into his hair. You feel more than hear the moan he makes when your nails scratch lightly over his scalp. Heat floods you at his indication of pleasure and-

“Cut!” The director’s voice cuts through whatever was building. “Excellent work, everyone. I think we got it.”

Colt lifts off of you and rolls to the edge of the bed where he sits for a brief moment before standing. You catch the barest glimpse of a scar on his back before the stuntman is on his feet and getting decent. By the time the director and supervising staff let you get dressed and off set, your impromptu scene partner is nearly out of sight. 

You take off running, ignoring the startled looks of the crew. You might be a total fool, but it had felt like there was something between the two of you in that fake bedroom. Weaving through the milling production staff, you get within yards of him before you slow down. 

“Hey, stunt guy!” You yell, winded.

He stops, startled, and turns to look back at you. He’s not the only one staring. It feels like everyone in the vicinity is watching the performance you’re putting on. You close the gap even further, coming to stand in front of him.

“Hey.” His tone is soft, questioning.

“I think we probably should have had dinner first, but will you accept after?”

He laughs, eyes squinting with the width of his answering smile. “I would like that.”

[mrs-stans]

Sebastian Stan, the interview: "If I met Trump I would ask him how he looks in the mirror"

The American dream, the unpredictability of Jeremy Strong, the instincts of an actor: twenty-five minutes of interview with the amazing protagonist of The Apprentice. At the cinema.

INTERVIEW by DAMIANO PANATTONI

While answering questions, Sebastian Stan approaches the webcam lens of the computer he is connected to. As if he were, in a certain sense, eliminating distances. Connected from a London hotel for our exclusive interview , he is in the midst of the promotional campaign for Ali Abbasi's The Apprentice , in which he plays none other than Donald Trump . A role, as they say, that is worth a career. An excellent performance by someone who could be considered one of the greatest contemporary actors.

The set, among other things, he shares with two other champions: Jeremy Strong in the role of fixer Roy Cohn, and Maria Bakalova who plays Ivana Trump. Sebastian Stan, for the entire twenty-four minutes of the interview (he was very generous, and that is not at all a common thing), thinks about the answers, takes a breath, weighs his voice. Like when he reflects on what the killer instinct of an actor is, given that in the film, the character of Trump himself, claims to have a deadly instinct "For me it is the truth, and how you make real what, instead, is not" .

The Apprentice: Interview with Sebastian Stan

Sebastian, how did you manage to immerse yourself so deeply in Trump’s body?

Well, I think when you play real people, fortunately there is a lot of information to draw from, and to look for inspiration. I think it almost becomes a real detective story to solve. You put things together and try to understand what drives a person, where these decisions come from. There is a technical aspect that has to be applied consistently over time. It really becomes second nature.

Ali Abbasi spoke to both her and Jeremy Strong separately before filming. What struck her most about the performance her co-star brought to the table?

The unpredictability I felt I had in what Jeremy brought to every day, and every take. As a result, I felt very alert, very alive on set. And I think I was immediately in awe. For me, it was a great parallel to the relationship we were exploring, as if I was Donald in that moment. At work, being surprised is key, that’s the best.

There is a heated political discussion in the United States around The Apprentice. Do you think that helps or hurts your film?

In the film we are talking about a man who has always believed that there is no such thing as bad publicity, and his participation in the debate only confirms that, obviously. But I think the goal was to talk about the film. And I say: even just trying to start a conversation in such a polarized environment is a victory. Everything about this film has been a victory for us, even in terms of it being almost banned from being released. Now we are talking about it and people can choose to go and see it. It is a victory, in a very scary time.

A challenge against censorship

Did you have any pressure while making it?

My experience so far has been just compliments on how good and brave I was. People felt a certain curiosity about what this film was trying to do. But I think I made a very clear choice once I decided that this is what I was going to do, that I wasn't going to let anyone or anything scare me or censor me or have an impact on how I approached the work.

How much weight did your judgment have on the character? Did you embrace reality or did you take refuge in representation?

I think there was a certain degree of actuality that you had to distance yourself from, just to get an objective point of view on the period and what was happening to these characters.

There is a very strong sequence, where Trump rapes Ivana. What was it like to shoot that?

We had an intimacy coordinator, and we followed the obvious approach, which is to make sure we were all on the same page, and how we were going to shoot the scene. Obviously, there is a certain trust, which is important between the actors. We felt that the scene, as brutal as it is, was still necessary not only for Trump's character, but also for what happened in Ivana's testimony under oath, where she talked about it.

Practical question: The sound design is amazing, capturing the chaos of New York, even though it was shot in Toronto. Was it difficult to shoot outside?

Locations are always important. We had an incredible team that did the production design and locations. We had Kasper Tuxen, the cinematographer who shot Apocalypse Now , with us . He saw the film twice and said it was the best New York film he had ever encountered!

The United States, Beyond Black and White: The Shades of a Complex Country

Trump wrote on Truth Social that the movie is false and classless. How did he react?

Unfortunately, it's not very surprising, but I'm glad he acknowledged the movie in some way, I think it shows that he really cares. If he does, it's good for us. I'm glad he did. I also want to thank him for thinking of me at 1:00 AM when he could be thinking of other more important things.

After The Apprentice, what more have you learned about the United States?

We need to continue to explore the idea of ​​the American dream, which on the one hand can be so rewarding and on the other hand can be very expensive. I think you have to look at the system in which this man, Trump, was born. You also have to look at Europe as a point of comparison. But it's not all black and white. The truth is much more gray and we have to analyze it from all angles.

I don't know if you've ever met Trump, but if you did, what would you say to him?

What would I ask him? Simple: How do you wake up and look in the mirror every day and lie to yourself so much? Tell me because I'm really curious. Do you feel anything other than self-hatred?

[gaywarcriminals]

Shen Jiu is an Abusive Mother

Yeah this is my Mother's Day post <3 This is just for funsies, and I by no mean think its the best lens through which to see SJ and LBH's relationship— its just a comparison I find interesting, and I was feeling festive 🥰.

To start, none of this is to say that SJ is a feminine character. I don't believe that, and I think that he's often misinterpreted as more feminine by western fans due to differences in gender norms/gender roles (which is a Whole Other Coversation). Maternal/mommy are being used loosely here.

Secondly, I don't think we'd even be looking at SJ through a maternal framework if the man who took over his body wasn't Shen "I would never abort you" Yuan. SJ is mostly pulled into this because he exist in juxtaposition to Mr. Freud's Wet Dream (go read tshirt's SVSSS Freud zine btw, several points here are inspired by it).

The fact remains, though, that even without Mr. Wifebeam Supreme playing the part, there is something distinctly parental about the role of Shizun. Shizuns cannot be compared to teachers or tutors, who the child either go to visit durning the day, or who come to the child's home when it's time for lessons. Even with the respect due to them, a teacher remains distinct from a child's home and family. They do not overly incorporate themselves into these things that define a child's life. 

Shizuns are a little different. There is, ofc, lots of variation within the xianxia and wuxia genres, but in most of the stories I've encountered— and more importantly for our purposes, in SVSSS itself— unless the child’s family home is their sect, when a child is accepted as a disciple, they're expected to join their shizun/shifu either in the master's home/sect, or in free-roaming travel. In both cases, the shizun's home becomes the disciple's home, and their shizun becomes the main adult responsible for the child. The master will take over in guiding the child's development from here, shaping them by their hand. Is that not a parent? I think some such imprinting is inevitable, even among more well-adjusted disciples. Do you know who's not well-adjusted?

Luo Binghe enters the sect soon after the death of his mother. There is a mommy shaped hole in his heart. Though absolutely nothing could replace her, he's a sad, lost, and angry child, coming to a mountain of immortal masters, desperately hoping for one of them to take him as their own. As much as he's motivated by fulfilling his mother's wishes, isn't he also looking for a place to belong in this world, now that the hut that he once called home is ruined by his mother's absence? Doesn't he hope, if only for a short time, that someone else will see fit to care for him? As much as Luo Binghe is already hurt and hardened in many ways, he's still just a child; he's not yet blackened beyond dreaming of someone to love him.

Shen Jiu is very much Not That. Shen Jiu is not a merely a lofty immortal ambivalent to his disciple’s emotional needs. No, Shen Jiu hates Luo Binghe enough to unfairly punish and ostracize him, and even puts him in deadly harm's way twice before just outright trying to kill him (the manual, the demon invasion, the abyss). Going by the framework of SQQ as a parental figure, he's undeniably an abusive one. In what way could this be said to be maternal, though? In my eyes, it comes down to motive.

Shen Jiu has a lot of motivations for abusing Binghe, mostly coming down to the fact that's he's more trauma response than man at this point, but one of these is more explicitly outlined in the text than the others:

Shen Qingqiu saw three things on the original flavor’s face: envy, envy, and more envy. Envy that Luo Binghe had a mother who was “the kindest in all the world to him,” envy of Luo Binghe’s talent, envy that Luo Binghe would enter Cang Qiong Mountain Sect at the best age for cultivating. He was indeed the kind of person to brim with envy and resentment toward a young child.

Envy and jealously, at least in the western canon, are usually associated with female characters (and though it’s outside the scope of this post to dissect, let it not go unremarked that this trope is deeply misogynistic in origin). They are almost always envious of a younger, more beautiful, and/or more skillful woman, who are posed at the moral superior to the jealous woman. That's right, Shen Jiu is an evil stepmother! He tolerates having no superior or equal on his peak, needing his power and superiority to go unquestioned. Outside of his abuse of Binghe, and the references early in the novel to SJ chasing away talented disciples, I think this is also shown by how the male disciple SJ tolerates the most is Ming Fan, who has only middling talent and is obsequious before his shifu, never challenging SJ in any way, and never threatening to surpass him.

But of course, SJ’s relationship to Binghe is the most obvious example. Shen Jiu sees himself in Luo Binghe (derogatory). He sees Luo Binghe as a symbol of everything he never had. Luo Binghe is a creature like himself that, for no rhythm or reason, was given so much more than SJ. It is also notable that, at least as far as Shen Qingqiu, as an outside observer, can tell, the thing which first sparked SJ's ire was the mention of LBH's mother. Never mind that LBH says in the same breath that she's dead; the fact that when she lived, she was a kind and loving mother to LBH is enough for SJ to envy him, and as he finds more to envy, it comes justification to hate the boy, and to punish him for daring to have someone who died loving him. 

(Side note: after consulting the qijiu server about the implications of SJ’s reaction, my reading is that SJ never knew his mother. The only alternative is that she was a bad mother, but I don't think he would find such unilateral comfort in women if that was the case. It's made me wonder if SJ ever believed that having a mother, a protector, would have spared him his fate. But alas, this post is not about SJ's mommy issues. Another day!)

Even outside the realm of cartoonish villains, I think this particular brand of envy is, in some ways, associate with motherhood. There's a natural tendency in parents to see themselves in their children, but as mothers are almost always the ones more involved in raising children and more expected to foster emotional connections with their children, I think this is both more common and more encouraged in mothers than fathers. Mothers are expected to be in charge of and over-involved in most aspects of a child's life, and in turn their lives are expected to revolve around their children, blurring the boarder between the self and the child. The child becomes symbolic of the mother's past self and what she can no longer be. The expectations on the child are the expectations of the mother's idealized self, and whether the child meets them or not, the mother will resent them for it, for daring to fail when they are her, or daring to succeed when they are not.

That's not to say SJ ever had such deep identification with LBH— he certainly never cared for LBH, and if anything, he's more like a mother who resents her child being born (as though he did not pick this boy out of the dirt himself)— but the hatred for a child under his care being like him but supposedly better off feels evocative of this characteristically maternal form of envy.

And finally, there is the fruit of SJ's actions, and the most explicitly/textually maternal aspect of SJ's abuse: it created Luo Bingge.

“Has Shidi ever considered that, if you hadn’t treated Luo Binghe like that in the beginning, everything that unfolded today never would have happened?”

He had singlehandedly created the Luo Binghe of today,

Luo Bingge, the all-powerful demon, the ruler of the three realms, and Shen Jiu's own personal torturer, would never have existed without SJ's intervention. Luo Bingge is shaped in Shen Jiu's image, and everything Shen Jiu ever did to destroy the boy only twisted him to further fit this mold. Luo Bingge's fate, the shape of his very soul, have been defined by SJ. And what is more maternal than giving someone their life defining trauma? 

[sufferu]

Hello, was reading your take on the Sloth IF and while I do see the themes of repression, I feel like you're selling Slothbaru short here.

When Rem asks him "Do you regret it" she's talking about having a kid (With all that happening, she had this confession. …Did he want this child to be born?).

And Subaru responds honestly, about how he tried to be a perfect husband to make up for running away (But, I can’t..show you that I am. I……I brought you with me. I’m the one who brought you with me. I wanted to give you everything I had to make you happy. I told myself that I had to do it……).

...and faces his insecurities and self-worth issues head on by accepting that he'll always be afraid, that his fear might never go away (Subaru, as someone who couldn’t look at his parents in the face, always had a fear of becoming a parent. He still does. It wasn’t gone. It probably would never go away... But, at the same time, Subaru knew something. He knew the love of the best role model parents in the whole world.) He thinks of his parents for the first time since he came to this place, admits that he wasn't a good kid, and remains determined to love his kid anyway.

It's essentially everything he was meant to say on the rooftop in From Zero, just filtered through the lens of being a parent. Sure, it took him over a year to get there, but he did face his issues in the end. Thematically, the story wouldn't have ended with that exchange between Subaru and Rem, as well as how he handled Zarestia/Reese, if the story was about him avoiding his problems and succumbing to Sloth.

I really don’t agree with that, to be honest — for starters because Rem’s question about if he regrets it or not is explicitly stated, by Subaru, to be the first time in a year that either of them have actually acknowledged the decision made in the Capital that day to run away. Even if you want to make the argument that Rem wasn’t asking about that (I’d disagree but if you wanted to make that argument) — it’s still very explicitly how Subaru interpreted the question that she was asking him. At the very least, the question of the child is the culmination of “Do you regret…any of the decisions that led to this moment?” In which case, of course, he’s only focusing on one aspect of the question — that being the birth of their child. Even as Rem explicitly grows her hair out in order to emulate her, Emilia still never gets brought up even once. He is ONLY focusing on being a parent and husband — and he’s making a commitment to that role, but in doing so he is avoiding everything else.

And, of course, he is committing to become a copy of Natsuki Kenichi, the man who’s shadow he never really managed to step out of.

This decision later reflects in his relationship with his son being the same as the one that he had with his old man, right down to him passing down that exact same hairstyle to Rigel. —Hell, Rigel’s whole character is just the culmination of all of the things that Subaru and Rem never really managed to properly digest. He’s a one-horned oni, he’s the son of one of the most respected men in his town, he’s even a closet crossdresser. Subaru never really figured out what Natsumi Schwartz was to him and never stopped emulating his father, Rem never stopped feeling guilty about being Ram’s twin and making it so both of them only had a single horn, and now Rigel gets to deal with all of it at once.

(Plus there’s the QnA detail that Subaru gets sent right back to Arc 3 when he dies, which is a pretty major hint that he really, REALLY never managed to come to terms with what happened that day.)

And also — just, on a meta level: it’s a Sin Route. It’s a little different than the others because it does not look all that bad on the surface — everything that makes it a Sin Route hinges on what Subaru specifically Does Not Say, and that honestly makes it look almost downright utopian at times — but it’s still an IF Route labeled after one of the Seven Deadly Sins. It’s marked as a Bad Ending for a reason, and it’s marked as Sloth for a reason, too.

[doamarierose-honoka]

Batman is back with a vengeance. Three years after HBO Max and Cartoon Network first announced Batman: Caped Crusader — the adult-oriented animated series that was eventually canceled by the since-renamed Max streaming service, only to then be picked up at Prime Video — the new Batman TV show is about to hit the small screen. Set in 1940s Gotham City, Caped Crusader is described as "a reimagining of the Batman mythology through the visionary lens" of executive producers Bruce Timm (Batman: The Animated Series and Batman Beyond), Matt Reeves (The Batman and The Penguin), and J.J. Abrams (Alias and Lost).

"We are beyond excited to be working together to bring this character back, to tell engrossing new stories in Gotham City," Timm, Reeves, and Abrams said when announcing the series in 2021. "The series will be thrilling, cinematic and evocative of Batman's noir roots, while diving deeper into the psychology of these iconic characters. We cannot wait to share this new world."

Below, ComicBook is shining the Bat-Signal on everything we know so far about Batman: Caped Crusader, including the voice cast, release date, and the rogues who will populate the first solo Batman animated series in more than a decade.

Where Can I Watch Batman: Caped Crusader?

To watch Batman: Caped Crusader on Amazon's Prime Video, you'll need either a Prime Video subscription ($8.99 per month with ads, or $11.98/mo for ad-free) or an Amazon Prime membership ($14.99 per month with Prime Video ads, or $17.98/mo with ad-free Prime Video).

Batman: Caped Crusader Release Date

All episodes of Batman: Caped Crusader will premiere Thursday, August 1st, on Amazon Prime Video.

How Many Episodes Is Batman: Caped Crusader?

Batman: Caped Crusader season 1 consists of 10 episodes. In 2023, Prime Video announced a two-season order for the new series.

What Is Batman: Caped Crusader About?

The official description: "Welcome to Gotham City, where the corrupt outnumber the good, criminals run rampant and law-abiding citizens live in a constant state of fear. Forged in the fire of tragedy, wealthy socialite Bruce Wayne becomes something both more and less than human — the Batman. His one-man crusade attracts unexpected allies within the GCPD and City Hall, but his heroic actions spawn deadly, unforeseen ramifications."

Who Voices Batman in the Batman: Caped Crusader Cast?

The Batman: Caped Crusader voice cast includes Hamish Linklater (Midnight Mass) in the title role as Batman/Bruce Wayne, Christina Ricci (Yellowjackets) as Catwoman/Selina Kyle, Jamie Chung (Gotham) as Harley Quinn/Dr. Harleen Quinzel, and Diedrich Bader — a DC veteran whose credits include episodes of Batman Beyond, 2006's The Batman, Batman: The Brave and the Bold, and the Max adult animated series Harley Quinn — as Two-Face/Harvey Dent.

Announced cast members in as-yet-unrevealed roles include Mckenna Grace (Ghostbusters: Frozen Empire), Toby Stephens (Percy Jackson and the Olympians), Reid Scott (Venom), Dan Donohue (For All Mankind), Gary Anthony Williams (Hailey's on It!), Jason Watkins (The Crown), John DiMaggio (Futurama), Krystal Joy Brown (She-Ra and the Princesses of Power), Michelle C. Bonilla (9-1-1: Lone Star), Eric Morgan Stuart (Fallout 4), Tom Kenny (SpongeBob SquarePants), and Minnie Driver (The Witcher: Blood Origin).

Batman: Caped Crusader Villains

A cast announcement video revealed Linklater's Batman voice and the Dark Knight's rogue's gallery: The Penguin, Catwoman, Two-Face, Harley Quinn, the pyromaniac Firebug, Natalia Knight (in the comics, a reformed career criminal with photosensitive skin known as Nocturna, the mistress of the night), the phantom criminal called Gentleman Ghost, and Clayface (the Golden Age Clayface of the 1940s was Basil Karlo, a once-famous character actor and makeup expert turned costumed killer). Caped Crusader reimagines Dr. Harleen Quinzel as Asian American — and Bruce Wayne's psychologist. Here, her alter-ego as the jester-costumed Harley Quinn is independent from the Joker, who is noticeably absent from the roundup of Batman characters.

Batman: Caped Crusader Characters

Batman – A cold, remorseless avenger of evil, seemingly more machine than man. Forged in the fire of tragedy, every fiber of his being is dedicated to the eradication of crime. (The Batman suit is influenced by the character's earliest appearances in Detective Comics, by creators Bob Kane and Bill Finger, with longer, narrow ears, a collared cape, and with black gloves rather than the original purple.)

Bruce Wayne - To the public at large, Bruce Wayne is a shallow dilettante, apparently wasting his parents' vast fortune on frivolous pursuits and hedonistic pleasures. In fact, he's an elaborate facade, carefully constructed to divert attention from his activities as Batman.

Selina Kyle / "Catwoman" – Selena Kyle is a blithe and pampered heiress whose family lost their fortune after her father was imprisoned for embezzlement. Despite having the silver spoon yanked from her mouth, Selina refuses to quit living in the lap of luxury and becomes Catwoman as a "fun" way to maintain her lavish lifestyle.

Dr. Harleen Quinzel / "Harley Quinn" – Despite a personable and bubbly demeanor, Dr. Harleen Quinzel is a brilliant psychiatrist who treats some of Gotham's elite. However, as Harley Quinn, she is a different person, entirely. A creepy, quiet, calculating menace who secretly dispenses her twisted justice to the truly despicable among her elite clientele.

Commissioner Jim Gordon – Former beat cop close to retirement, Gordon was hired to play along with the corrupt system and run out the clock till he can draw a pension. But they've sorely underestimated Jim Gordon. His unassailable character brings him into conflict with dirty cops and crooked politicians, alike. Not to mention, he has to reckon with a deranged vigilante beating up Gotham's criminals.

Clayface – Thanks to his "unique" facial features, screen actor Basil Karlo has been forever typecast as a B-movie heavy. Frustrated by the limitations his appearance put on both his career and personal life (he fell hopelessly in love with his co-star), Karlo turned to an experimental serum that promised to change his face. However, not only does this serum ultimately disfigure his face, but it ruptures the last of his sanity – creating the tragic, vengeance seeking villain, Clayface.

Batman: Caped Crusader Creators

Batman: Caped Crusader comes from Warner Bros. Animation (My Adventures with Superman, Bat-Family), Abrams' Bad Robot Productions (Lovecraft Country, the Star Trek films) and Reeves' 6th & Idaho (2022's The Batman, The Batman – Part II). Along with Abrams, Reeves and Timm, Batman: Caped Crusader executive producers include head writer Ed Brubaker (DC's Batman comic, Gotham Central), James Tucker (Justice League Unlimited), Daniel Pipski (The Penguin), Rachel Rusch Rich (Castle Rock), and Sam Register (Justice League: Crisis on Infinite Earths – Part One and Part Two).

[inquisitornocturn]

⊱─ 𝕕𝕒𝕣𝕜𝕟𝕖𝕤𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕤𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕟: 𝕔𝕙.𝟙 - 𝕝𝕦𝕤𝕥 ─⊰

➺ 𝕡𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘: Ascended Astarion x f!reader

➺ 𝕥𝕒𝕘𝕤: no y/n is used, rating - E, TW: mentions of childhood sexual abuse, general sexual abuse and mentions of sexual slavery (all of those happened in the past AA is not doing this to reader). PIV, creampie, blood drinking.

➺ 𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕪 𝕤𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: you're skilled, driven and most importantly - ambitious. but even as someone in your position, a trained assassin and a leader of your own Guild, you still lend yourself to jobs that are of importance. even if those jobs sometimes mean attending parties. tonight - it's a masquerade and you're bored out of your mind, until the man who hired you to protect him leaves you alone, at the mercy of a stranger who suddenly took a keen interest in you.

this is a 7 chapter fic exploring Ascended Astarion through a lens of 7 deadly sins.

➺ 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕕 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 4,129

𝕒𝕦𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕣 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕖: as voted by my readers - here's Ascended Astarion and my take on 7 deadly sins that i looked at through his character. enjoy! <3

➺ 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥: [link]

Another boring party, another boring masquerade.

Your eyes sweep over the crowd but nothing seems unusual for the time being. People dancing, people chatting, people drinking. Most of them you recognize even behind their masks. Simple mannerisms, voices or even who they are spending time with tells you more than they probably would want to let on. It’s not hard for you to tell who’s who. After all, you worked for so many of them already.

Tonight you work as a guard for especially paranoid noble. Normally you don’t let yourself get hired for tasks, you have your whole Guild of experienced thieves and assassins to do all the minor and major works, but when the richest of Baldur’s Gate want your services specifically – you comply. Not only they pay handsomely, you also make connections among the patriars that do pay off in a long run.

No, you’re no Nine-fingers Keane, not yet at least, but you have gathered a respectable resume of deeds that are well known in the underbelly of Baldur’s Gate. You have a goal and that goal is simple – to control every Guild by taking over and uniting them. You’ve been working for years to make this happen and you built yourself from the ground up. Just like you escaped slavery in Hells, so will you become what you want to be – the ultimate ruler of Guilds of this godsdamned city that betrayed you before.

But you won’t let these thoughts distract you, not tonight. Not that you expect anything to happen in the first place. It’s a masquerade after all, who would even target the patriar you’re accompanying is beyond you. He’s a man who is scared to step on anyone’s toes, let alone anyone’s who could be a danger to him. Alas, he hired you and he’s paying so well you couldn’t refuse the offer. So now you’re here, in your best dress, with a domino mask on your face and a glass of wine in your hand. And, of course, couple daggers hidden under your dress. You are always prepared.

The patriar in question, one exalted Lord Goldbrith, is by your side and chatting with gusto to a young man. You suspect he brought you here not only to guard his life, but perhaps to help him disperse the rumors surrounding his sexuality. Not that most would judge in the first place, nobles and patriars probably are the most relaxed people when it comes to sexual liberty. However, Goldbrith’s issue is that his father wants an heir and if your little ‘prince’ over there leaves no such possibility by admitting that he’s not interested in women, well… then he risks losing the inheritance. And you’re not sure this man knows how to tie his own shoes, being pampered like a child all his life.

You almost roll your eyes, thinking how this is the worst some people have to deal with. No, they will never know what it is to be molested by their father and brother, no, they won’t know what it is to be sold to a brothel as a ten-year old and used. No, they won’t know what it’s like to be sold to Hells only to continue being a slave of desires of others just as you have been up here. You don’t scowl, but when you look at these spoiled men and women you feel disgust and anger.

No, stop, inhale… exhale. Your past is your past, but you’re stronger now, better. And you will have Baldur’s Gate by the throat eventually. You just have to be patient, have to spread your connections wider and have as many people indebted to you as possible. So that you can use them when the right time comes.

Again you inhale and slowly exhale, calming yourself. When you become the Guild Leader of Baldur’s Gate then each and every person in this room will have to treat you with respect. And most of them already do because you have made a name for yourself in these past years, for what it counts.

“Dearest, do you mind if I accompany this fine gentleman to the restroom? He says he cannot find it.” Lord Goldbrith is now talking to you, making you snap out of your bitter thoughts, and you look at him.

“Alone?” you ask and the man now seems flustered.

“Yes. There’s no need for you to come along, I think I will be perfectly safe. And it’s not far, if something happens - I’ll shout for you.” a nervous smile, intertwined fingers, yes, you know exactly what he’s going to be doing with this so-called fine gentleman. After all, he hired you to protect him and if he temporarily doesn’t need it…

“Very well, find me when you return, I shouldn’t stray too far.” you respond and Goldbrith pats your hand holding the glass of wine.

“I’ll be fine. Go, dance, mingle. Seems this event is quite safe for me.”

Sure it is, you think to yourself. You see his anxious desire to depart immediately from your company and you have no reason to hold him. He paid you already, after all.

“Of course, Lord Goldbrith.” you nod again and a smile of relief forms underneath his mask, you can see it in how the corners of his eyes crinkle.

“I’ll find you when I’m back.” his hand leaves yours and you watch Goldbrith navigate the crowd with his newest boy toy.

You can’t help but smile to yourself. At least he’ll be happy tonight and it won’t harm you to assure others he’s here with you if anybody asks. When you are paid so handsomely - you will tell people the sky is brown and grass is red.

“I saw your companion leave. Curious to ask why.” a voice you don’t recognize asks for your attention.

You turn to see a man standing close to your left side. His silver hair is immaculate with flowing locks and the domino mask that he’s wearing is bejeweled with what like looks actual gems. Behind the mask you see red piercing eyes. The man smiles and it’s more of a smug smirk than a heartfelt expression. It looks so natural on him that you are sure this is his default expression. A dangerous smile. A smile that spells ruin for those who scorn him; you’ve seen smiles like this before. 

“If you’re curious, why don’t you follow him and ask yourself?” you lift your glass to your lips and take a sip, keeping your eyes on him. 

“I’m not in a habit of following men.” elf responds, his tone of voice is cocky and the implication of his words is clear - he’s the one who leads and not the one who follows. 

Problem is, you don’t recognize him. Even with the mask on, you can tell that he’s a man of beauty, surely you must’ve heard of him even if you haven’t met him. But this is a masquerade, people don’t share names until midnight and there’s still couple hours left on the clock for that. You think how you can get his name out of him but your thoughts get interrupted because this mystery man steps even closer to you and glances at your glass. 

“More wine, my dear?”

Tsk. How much you despise nobles thinking they can use pet names on you. But you bite your tongue.

“I can serve myself if needed.” you step back from him and see his curious eyes examine your masked face. What does he even want?

Your gaze snaps down the moment you see him reach out. His fingers bear silver rings, some of them have gems, you recognize each and every one of those gems even before he steps closer again just to take your hand in his slender, manicured fingers.

“I thought maybe you could grant me a dance since your partner seems to be busy with a gentleman.” a pointed tone that his words carry tell you everything – he knows about the arrangement you have with Lord Goldbrith. How - you have not even a slightest idea, but he knows.

Except you’re not concerned that he knows, instead you notice his warm and soft touch when he raises your hand and leans down to meet it with his lips. Something that should be only a small peck gets prolonged and it’s as if he’s testing you because his eyes meet yours while his lips are still on your hand. It’s a long moment. Too long to be appropriate but you don’t pull your hand away.

“A dance? Perhaps I can do that.” you answer and offer the mysterious white-haired man a smile. He smiles too and straightens his back but keeps holding your hand.

“Wonderful. I think a waltz is about to start.” he says in a voice like honey. He’s interested in you, you can tell that much.

So maybe you could use him, just to relieve some pressure. It doesn’t have to be serious, these types of trysts never are. And you have been with couple other patriars like this before. Sneaking away from the main room, finding an empty study or an unused stairwell, quickly satisfying your needs and his without any need to talk about it afterwards. No strings attached, just pure carnal lust being gratified with a willing partner. This handsome elf could become this type of partner, if only for tonight.

You nod to him and put away your goblet to a nearby table, then feel him tug at your hand. You follow him to the ballroom and instead of staying at the edges of the dance floor as not to interrupt other twirling couples, this noble leads you right to the center. You don’t shy away when there’s attention placed on you, but tonight you are on the job and you would prefer if you weren’t noticed. Nonetheless, once more you let him do as he pleases and don’t pull your hand from his firm grasp or don’t try to hide away.

If he wants a dance with everyone watching – you will give him that dance.

When people part giving him and yourself the way to the center of the floor, this mysterious man finally stops and looks at you with a smirk. Even with the mask covering half his face you can see confidence, no, arrogance etched in every expression he makes. You don’t mind that. Something about arrogant men always intrigued you. Maybe because you too are full of pride, and you think that if only these men knew what you’re capable of, they wouldn’t be so self-assured around you. It gives your ego a boost, feeding your own arrogance, making you almost fearless no matter the situation, no matter the opponent or, just like in this case, no matter the partner. A dancing partner, at that, at least for now.

The man pauses, the music stops for a moment while musicians adjust for the upcoming tune and he steps closer, now pulling you closer with practiced ease. His hand on your lower back push you against his chest and you raise your eyebrows even though he cannot see it because of your own mask. Waltz is not danced chest to chest but it looks like he doesn’t care about etiquette or social manners. You don’t mind that at all, you like a man who knows what he’s doing.

And then the music starts again.

Your partner eases into the music with grace, his steps are easy, fluid and you follow him with as much grace as you can. It’s not your first waltz but he’s obviously a better dancer than you can ever hope to be.

“You know people are watching, right?” you say to the elf, bringing attention to how close he’s holding you and he scoffs arrogantly.

“We’re beautiful together, of course they are watching.” his hand on your lower back pushes slightly harder and you nearly lose your step.

A cocky grin on his face tells you that it was intentional. You smirk back to him because you know what he’s doing or at least trying to do. He’s sparring, trying to establish himself as superior to you in this setting. Maybe he’s trying to show that he’s superior over everyone in this ballroom. You’re not sure nor you care.

“I would like to know your name, darling.” your dancing noble says again when you don’t reply quick enough and you slightly smile, he’s getting impatient.

“It’s a masquerade, Lord. My name’s a mystery just as yours.” your reply rewards you with a chuckle that you feel reverberating from his chest against yours.

“Very well.” the man says and you can feel his fingers give yours a short squeeze. “But I will want to see what’s behind that mask once midnight strikes.” again his eyes pierce into yours and for just a split second the world around you melts away.

The chatter and laughter of patriars disappears, the music is all you hear. You feel the fabric of your dress brush against your legs and his as you both spin in motion to the rhythm of waltz. His hand so warm on yours, so warm even through your dress on your back. At last it feels like you both dance with the grace of gods themselves as he leads your steps. And you realize that you don’t want to wait until midnight to rip his mask off and see what’s underneath.

Yes, he will serve well to satisfy your lust, to help you take off the edge. You smile to him.

“Maybe we don’t have to wait for midnight after all.” you tell him and see a flash of surprise that turns into smugness. You also realize that waltz is coming to an end, perfect timing.

Before the elf replies the music tapers off and you step back from him despite his attempt to keep your body close to his, then you do a proper curtsey in thanks for the dance. Mystery man bows too, one hand behind him, but his eyes never leaving yours.

After you both stand tall again, you turn from him and walk off, sensing rather than knowing that he’s following. No one seems to be paying attention anymore, now that your dance is over and another one begins, and you weave through the crowd with easy expertise of an assassin. Passing unnoticed and uninterrupted. But you do quickly glance back to the spot where you were standing earlier, to check if Lord Goldbrith returned but seeing no sign of a man you turn your attention to the hallway for which you are aiming.

Soon enough you turn a corner but don’t get far before you feel yourself being pulled back by your wrist. You stop and look behind you only to see that the elf indeed has followed you. He tugs at your arm just like he did when leading you to the middle of a ballroom and you smirk, pressing your palms against his chest to soften the impact of your body against his.

He leans closer, his lips seeking yours yet you push away from him, seeing questions in his eyes, but instead of answering you grab his hand and make him trail after you in hurried footsteps. To your relief the elf doesn’t utter a word and you pass couple of doors before you stop and push at the third one, hoping that this room is potentially unoccupied, since you assumed the first two would be. That’s how it usually goes during these types of noble parties.

Yes, the room is empty and the silver-haired man follows you inside hurriedly, pushing the door closed behind him. When you stop he stops too and you release his hand, turning to him. For a moment you look each other in the eyes, you feel your heart beating heavy and fast in your chest. And then both of you step to each other at the same time as if you both heard a silent permission.

He grabs at your mask and you grab at his, pulling them away from your faces just a split second before your lips meet. You kiss him almost harshly, your desire taking control of you and he responds with same passion, pushing his tongue into your mouth in an instant. The masks drop to the floor and he steps forwards with you, pushing you backwards with his hands on your hips and your arms around his neck, until you bump into the bookshelf behind you.

Elf’s hands begin clawing at your dress, lifting the skirts up in a hurry and your hands blindly find their way to the buttons of his pants. The kiss is deep, the wine you taste on his tongue is even better than one from a glass. For a moment your tongue catches on his fang but you don’t have the time to wonder what’s that about. No, this moment is about getting and giving in equal measure.

The kiss breaks for a moment, you feel elf’s breath on your mouth and gasp softly when you feel his fingertips trace the outline of your underwear. You open your eyes and find him looking at you with intense lust-filled gaze, at the same time you finally manage to slip your hand into his pants. As you reach down, his precum stains your fingers and you smirk, palming his hard erection.

But your smile gets wiped off your face as the handsome elf pulls at the hem of your panties and slides two fingers down your slit, dipping just the tips of them into your core. He exhales with obvious lust and removes his hand, grabbing your hips as if preparing to lift you. You don’t waste time and you free his cock out of its confines. The moment you do that, the man lifts you by the hips. Immediately you wrap your legs around his waist, your hands gripping his shoulders for purchase. Without delay you feel your panties being pulled to the side and smooth tip of elf’s erection pressing against your soaked cunt.

No words are needed and no time is wasted. He thrusts into you with force and you moan, throwing your head back from the pleasure of him filling you and stretching you in most wonderful way. You quickly bite your lip down, trying to silence any forthcoming cries but you are not successful because when he starts pumping - it’s hard and demanding.

The room fills with pants and groans and you close your eyes, feeling the man’s lips on your neck, kissing and tasting your skin with his tongue. You whine with each snap of his hips, with each claim of his to your body, and you let go of his shoulders, your fingers reach over your head and to your sides, looking for a shelf to grasp onto, but for a while you only find the spines of books, pulling at them and making them drop to the floor with silent thuds.

Then your eyes snap open as pain briefly shoots through your shoulder but you immediately realize what’s going on. Of course he’s a vampire. The crimson eyes, the fangs, strange you didn’t realize it earlier. You let your eyelids drop as the vampire sucks on your blood while relentlessly pounding into you at the same time, and you have to clench your teeth to prevent yourself from shouting into the ceiling. It’s not your first time sleeping with a vampire so you’re not afraid, if anything it gives you a thrill of danger that you never get from other patriars in such short-term arrangements.

You feel the fangs leave your neck and a greedy tongue laps at the bite marks left behind while you finally manage to grasp onto the shelves, clinging for your dear life. You crane your head and look at the elf, seeing that his eyes are on you, then he catches your lips in a scorching kiss, his teeth tugging at your bottom one and you mewl at that, it’s harder and harder for you to keep silent as your pleasure begins to build. Your partner in this quick tryst pounds himself so religiously into you that you are beginning to feel sore already and that only adds to the pleasure.

For a moment the elf just keep thrusting while biting on your lower lip and when you look at him he keeps an eye contact with you, but then his teeth part and he presses his face to the side of your neck that doesn’t have his fresh bite mark. You hear him gasp for air and you know he’s close too. You release the shelf with one hand to tangle your fingers into his hair, grasping firmly just before you close your eyes again and let go.

A deep thrust, another one, then another one - your mewls follow each other of them and your mind swims just before your orgasm overwhelms your senses. You don’t know how loud you are or how hard you are gripping vampire’s hair, all you know is pleasure and his cock pushing you to your limits. You don’t even know how long the waves of pleasure rip through you, making your cunt clench on his shaft so deliciously, as if on a quest to milk him sooner than he wishes. You hear him grunt something, a word, maybe two, you’re not sure and it doesn’t matter.

When your bliss begins subsiding and your mind starts to clear you find yourself still being fucked. You whimper, sore and satisfied, but pull at elf’s hair, making him look at you. His face is sweaty, his teeth are clenched, showcasing his fangs, and you see that he’s close. You heavily kiss him but he doesn’t respond. Instead he grunts against your mouth and then moans, his thrusts becoming erratic at the same moment as he begins spilling himself deep inside of you. You slide your tongue against his teeth, your eyes heavy-lidded from your own pleasure and additional satisfaction seeing that he seems to be enjoying this too, like it’s a compliment to you. And then his hips finally stop, his grip on your hips is slippery and he’s digging his fingers into your flesh, leaving bruises for the future.

The elf opens his eyes to look at you, he’s utterly out of breath but you don’t let him say anything, you just kiss him again and he responds, albeit less energetically now. You had a moment to recover while he just rode out his orgasm to the fullest. With a smirk you lean your head back and push at him slightly, making him set you on the floor. The white-haired man looks disheveled and you most likely look the same, but you just smirk to him, taking in his appearance, the messy hair, the open pants and his softening erection, still leaking last drops of cum. A wonderful view and a state that you like seeing men in.

With sweaty palms you smoothen out skirts of your dress and pick up your domino mask from the floor, then give him a wink, walking out of the room. You don’t see the look the man gives you: one of shock and partial anger that you’re leaving without another word. As if he’s realizing it is you who used him and not the other way around. Your arrogance leaves him stumped. But you finally know who he is: Lord Astarion Ancunin.

With a satisfied grin you walk back to the ballroom, trying to ignore your underwear that’s getting soaked with his seed and your own arousal, but you know he won’t follow you right now, most likely too insulted that you used him to get relief. You put on your mask again and enter the ballroom, immediately seeing Lord Goldbrith impatiently tapping his foot at the same spot where he stood last before leaving with a young gentleman. When you approach him he looks irritated.

“Let’s leave.” he demands and you raise your eyebrows but you don’t argue. If you can leave early and go home to wash up that’s all the better. After all, the moment Lord Goldbrith is in his carriage your job is done and you won’t argue against a short night.

“As you say.” you nod and Goldbrith curtly nods in response, then marches towards the main exit.

You follow him but give one more glance behind you before you leave the room. You notice white curls and a crimson-eyed intense, angry gaze in your direction just before dancing couples hide all of it away.

You smirk to yourself. You have a suspicion you will meet him again.

[revenantlore]

. WIP Introduction .

In the crumbling heart of the metropolis known as Nocturna City, a sinister drug known as Noxiglow has taken root. Those who dare to indulge in its seductive embrace are transformed into a new breed of vampires—neon-bleeding creatures with supernatural powers.

This results in unspeakable carnage and alarm erupts throughout the city, leading to an immediate lockdown that few abide by despite the costs.

Detective Vektor “Vex” Graves, a jaded and relentless investigator, is thrust into the neon-lit abyss of Nocturna's underworld. With his AURAndroid partner, Detroit, they embark on a perilous journey to uncover the dark origins of Noxiglow and put an end to the escalating chaos and death it leaves in its wake.

As Vex delves deeper into the investigation, he infiltrates the illicit world of Nocturna's vampire nightclubs, where neon-blooded addicts revel in their newfound powers. Undercover as a hopeful vampire fledgling, Vex encounters Nokia, a captivating and mysterious vampire, and the lines between duty and desire blur.

Vex's attraction to Nokia grows, casting him into an emotional whirlwind as he grapples with the complexities of his feelings for a man he should view as an enemy and not a lover, on top of the confusion he endures over his “relationship” with Detroit.

The neon world is fraught with danger and temptation, and Vex must navigate a treacherous path to maintain his cover while unraveling the secrets behind Noxiglow's creation.

In a city where neon-lit darkness conceals deadly truths, Vex and Detroit must race against time to expose the malevolent forces behind Noxiglow and confront their own inner demons.

Characters :

Vektor “Vex” Graves

Vex's day doesn't truly begin until he's had his fifth cup of coffee, though his job seldom allows him time for more than two. Coffee is a constant warm companion, helping him stay alert during long nights on the job and tiresome investigations, and some days it's the only warm companion he allows himself.

Other days, he finds himself warm under the sheets beside his work partner, Detroit.

Despite his sharp mind, Vex struggles with impatience and indecision. He can be quick to jump into action but often finds himself overthinking choices, caught between a desire for immediate results and a nagging need to weigh every option. Having Detroit as a partner ready and willing to knock some sense into him is a blessing he sometimes takes for granted.

In and outside of work, Vex is drawn to the hidden corners of Nocturna. Urban exploration comes as both a passion and an escape, allowing him to immerse himself into the quiet mysteries of decaying buildings and forgotten spaces-occasionally stumbling upon an equally decaying body along the way. And despite his advanced mechanical eye, Vex prefers to capture the essence of this dilapidated world through the lens of an old, beat-up Polaroid he found at a junk-lot.

D3TRO-17 “Detroit”

D3TRO-17 is a top-of-the-line AURAndroid [Artificial Unification & Reconnaissance Android] hired on to work alongside Detective Vex Graves. Meticulous and prone to getting caught up in the small details, having a human for a partner makes work a lot easier.

Underneath the occasional biting sarcasm and unwavering honesty, Detroit harbors a soft side that manifests in his appreciation for life's smallest joys. He finds wonder in the most simple and mundane aspects of human life, the intricacies of insects, and possesses an endearing quirk for collecting seemingly trivial objects.

If asked, he would say dandelion wishes and pinky promises are his favorite aspects of life.

Though much of his knowledge is crammed into his internal database, Detroit favors tangible objects.

Much like a teenager from a time long past who might pin media posters to his walls, Detroit's walls are adorned with scraps of paper torn from history books, loose cards from old trivia games, and dried flowers he finds between the cracks of old buildings.

Detroit longs for a sense of belonging and humanity he fears he may never achieve.

Mattix Nysoth

Mattix Nysoth is an enigmatic hermit who exists on the fringes of society. They lead a transient life, wandering wherever the night guides them, finding shelter in abandoned buildings once full of life that Mattix tries to emulate through imagined scenarios brought to life with paint and calloused fingers.

Mattix's existence is an intricate dance with danger and survival, marked by a series of illegal and improperly installed implants that are both a lifeline and a curse.

Their body bears a patchwork of these hazardous implants, each representing a desperate attempt to gain an edge in a world that often leaves them behind.

While these enhancements provide occasional advantages, they come at a steep cost, in both health and legality.

Though Mattix's demeanor is often abrasive, it is more a defensive mechanism forged from years of solitude and abandonment than a representation of their true self. Trust is a rare commodity and they've learned to keep others at arm's length unless it serves them in some form or another. However, beneath this tough exterior lies a deep desire for connection.

nokia grimoire info to come eventually

[sinisteryanderescribe]

::: An Interesting Encounter :::

…………………………………………………………………………….

In the aftermath of a devastating apocalypse that has shattered society and left deadly diseases and infections rampant, a group of survivors has emerged, characterized by their cold and harsh demeanor. The destruction and isolation wrought by the apocalypse has taken a heavy toll on the group, leaving them distrustful, weary, and hardened by their experiences.

The survivors' harshness can be attributed to the trauma and loss they have endured, as well as the constant struggle for survival in a world that has been torn apart. Their cold and distant nature may stem from a need to protect themselves emotionally, as forming attachments could potentially lead to further heartache in their precarious circumstances. Additionally, the pervasive threat of deadly diseases and infections has likely instilled a sense of hypervigilance and wariness within the group, further contributing to their guarded behavior.

Despite their tough exterior, their demeanour is a coping mechanism, born out of necessity rather than malice. Their experiences have forced them to adopt a pragmatic, survival-focused mindset, prioritizing self-preservation above all else. This has inevitably led to an erosion of trust and empathy, as the group has learned to view the world through a lens of skepticism and caution.

As the group of survivors patrolled the desolate and ruined landscape, they stumbled upon a building where they heard the moans and cries of your voice who was trapped under a pile of rubble. The group, though initially wary and distrusting, ultimately decided to help the injured individual. As they carefully approached the source of the agonized sounds, they discovered you pinned beneath the debris, clearly in need of assistance.

Of course you would be startled at first with their sudden appearance but hope was the next feeling that filled your eyes.

The rescue effort was led by a man dressed in all black, wearing a gas mask to protect himself from the contaminated surroundings. With caution and precision, he skillfully maneuvered the heavy and sharp rocks that had entrapped you, eventually managing to free you by carefully pulling you out by the waist.

you find yourself being cared for by a white-haired woman with red tips at the end of her hair. Like the rest of the group, she wears a gas mask, a necessary precaution in the hazardous environment they inhabit. Her gentle but methodical touch conveys a sense of expertise and experience as she tends to your wounds, her eyes expressing though was emotionless and hard concentrated on wrapping up any deep wounds which you were thankful for.

Meanwhile, the man who had pulled you from the rubble takes on a more guarded stance, his gaze unwavering as he begins to question you. It's clear that he's maintaining a vigilant watch over you, wary of any potential threat you might pose. His demeanor makes you nervous, but you understand the necessity of his caution given the harsh reality of the world you now find yourself in.

Despite the tension, you answer his questions, providing information about your background, your profession as a doctor, and any other pertinent details. It's a relief to see a flicker of recognition in his eyes as he introduces himself as Luchino, acknowledging your responses with a measured nod. His name carries a weight of authority within the group, and you sense that he plays a significant role in their dynamics.

In a gesture of cautious camaraderie, Luchino proceeds to introduce you to the others, each member donning a mask like his own, their eyes reflecting a mix of wariness and curiosity as they take in your presence.

As Luchino introduces you to his group, you learn that the woman tending to your injuries is Ada, her white hair with red tips marking her as a unique presence within the group. With each careful movement, she conveys both expertise and a sense of intelligence , her focused attention speaking volumes about her dedication to aiding you in your time of need.

Meanwhile, a woman named Xiao Loa stands guard, her figure cloaked in a striking white dress coat. You notice her brief glance in your direction, though it's clear that her interest lies elsewhere, her demeanor exuding an air of detached indifference. Her inscrutable gaze leaves you with a sense of unease, as you wonder about the complexities hidden beneath her composed exterior.

Standing slightly apart from the others is Frederick, his posture exuding an aura of reserved scrutiny as he appraises you with a probing gaze. The intensity of his scrutiny puts you on edge, yet you find yourself captivated by the striking depth of his eyes, their beauty a stark contrast to the harshness of the world surrounding you.

After Ada finishes tending to your injuries, the group gathers to discuss whether they should take you with them. They huddle together, their expressions a mix of hesitation and uncertainty, each one silently weighing the implications of adding another member to their already burdened group. Ada, recognizing the value of having another doctor among them, seems to have no qualms about bringing you along, her practicality overriding any reservations.

Luchino, while acknowledging the usefulness of your medical expertise, remains uncertain, his guarded nature leaving room for doubt. Fredrick and Xiao Loa, on the other hand, make no effort to conceal their displeasure at the idea of adding another member to their ranks. To them, your presence represents an additional burden, a potential obstacle that could slow them down and complicate their already precarious existence.

Despite the reservations, the group eventually reaches a consensus, recognizing the practical advantages of having a doctor in their midst. Luchino takes charge, lifting you up as he hurriedly guides you to a waiting black truck, the others falling into step behind you. Once at the vehicle, Luchino gently places you in the back seat, where you notice a scruffy-looking young man whose tense demeanor and averted gaze hint at his unease with your arrival.

You would occasionally shift feeling slightly intimidated by some stares here and there but it’s better than slowly rotting and dying of starvation under a pile of rock and rubble.

As the journey begins, you find yourself surrounded by a group of individuals whose guarded nature and complex dynamics mirror the harsh realities of the world they inhabit. The subtle undercurrents of tension and uncertainty within the group offer a glimpse into the intricate web of relationships and conflicts that define their shared journey, hinting at the potential for both camaraderie and discord in this unforgiving post-apocalyptic landscape.

[marta-diablo]

Remembering The Mighty Boosh Through The Lens Of Actor And Photographer Dave Brown

“Come with us now on a journey through time and space,” I heard for the fifth time during a recent binge of the beloved BBC comedy series The Mighty Boosh. The televisual project, which stars creators Noel Fielding and Julian Barratt in various workplaces, is how most fans will remember the Boosh, but the legendary comedy troupe scaled the pages of books, the retro realm of radio and the live stage too.

Like Monty Python, the Boosh thrived on surrealism, but while the former made lengthy strides in religious satire and social commentary, the latter specialised in pop culture references, scaly man fish, talking naan bread and virtually anything Fielding and Barratt could conjure from the colourful cauldron of their unfiltered psyches. Ever awoken from a strange dream and decided not to tell the story? “No, it’s too weird,” you might think. Thankfully, the Boosh never held back.

On the topic of naan bread, I’d like to introduce you to today’s featured photographer, Dave Brown. As well as sporting gorilla garb for his role as Bollo, Brown played several other minor characters, including the deadly Black Frost and, of course, an anthropomorphic naan. While coordinating crimps and marshalling the mayhem as the troupe’s self-confessed “organised control freak”, Brown was never far from his camera. Much to our benefit, he took thousands of photos, documenting the Mighty Boosh’s meteoric journey to the big screen and beyond.

Last week, I had the great pleasure of chatting with Brown to sort through his extensive photography collection and discuss his time as a member of the Mighty Boosh. “I was at university with Noel,” he began, revealing how the Boosh came about in the 1990s. “We lived together at uni and, before I specialised in graphic design, in the course that we did, I was Noel’s partner. He was the copywriter, and I was an art director. We used to write various things and do crazy shit that always got horrendous marks, but actually turned out to be way ahead of its time because it was so ridiculous.”

“We used to be into comedy; Noel always wanted to be a comedian,” he continued. “We were basically comedy trainspotters. And there was a comedy club near where we were in Buckinghamshire called Hellfire Comedy Club. We’d been to see everyone, Kevin Eldon and Harry Hill – all of the greats of that era. Julian was on that bill as a comedian, and me, Noel and Nige [Coan; he and his partner Ivana Zorn conducted the animation for The Mighty Boosh] went to see him do the stand-up and then chatted to him after.”

The students became well-acquainted with Barratt, who told Fielding he had won the Daily Telegraph open mic award. Inspired, Fielding also entered the open mic competition, and there began his first foray into Britain’s comedy underworld. “When [Noel] did that, me and Nige kind of shadowed him through the whole journey, which was extremely stressful. I think Frankie Boyle won it, and I don’t think they have a second place, but I think Noel pretty much came in second.”

Energised by the open mic success, Fielding became involved with the Edinburgh festival alongside Chris Addison, Julian Barratt and Frankie Boyle, among others and eventually began working on the first incarnation of the Mighty Boosh stage show with Julian. “They started realising they were kindred spirits and started writing together,” Brown remembered. “They did Mighty Boosh, which was the first live show. They had met Rich Fulcher while doing a sketch called Unnatural Acts. They liked him and asked Rich to be the zookeeper in their first live show, which won the Perrier Newcomer Award.”

The troupe began to take shape in the late 1990s, a time when Brown was working a steady job as a graphic designer. “I was just living with Noel in Hackney, mucking about and helping them out and getting involved in that Monday night stuff [at the Hen & Chickens theatre in Highbury & Islington], playing music dressed up as different shit. Then I went to Australia to work,” he told me. “When I came back from Australia, [Fielding and Barratt] were writing their third live Edinburgh show [Auto Boosh] and wanted a third person in it because they wanted to do various characters and wanted two people on stage while the other changed into different characters. So they asked me, and I agreed to do that.”

Following the success of Auto Boosh in 2000, Fielding and Barratt were commissioned to partake in a six-part radio series, The Boosh. The show aired in October 2001 on BBC Radio 4 and served as a golden gateway to their popular television adaption, The Mighty Boosh, which aired on BBC Three for three series between 2004 and 2007. “My job varied from helping out with props and playing stupid characters when they needed,” Brown said of his role on the set of the TV show. “I was quite influential in the live direction of it and them two [Noel and Barratt], I was a therapist between those two most of the time [laughs].”

With a fine cast including Brown, Fulcher, Michael Fielding (Noel’s brother), Richard Ayoade and Matt Berry, Barratt and Fielding created a world unlike any other that gave fans a chance to escape. It could be hard to fathom how this silly world of surrealism could offer anything beyond laughter and release; however, in 2020, Netflix removed The Mighty Boosh from its catalogue, citing the use of blackface in episodes like ‘The Spirit of Jazz’ and ‘Jungle’.

‘Auto Boosh’ at Edinburgh Fringe 2001

BBC Radio Show 2001

As we touched upon this delicate topic, Brown recalled the show’s censorship as a particularly distressing period for the Mighty Boosh group. While Netflix cancelled the show, the BBC decided to keep it on iPlayer, instead issuing a warning that needs to be accepted before proceeding to the stream. “I love the fact that the BBC stood by us; Netflix just pulled us,” Brown said. “You know, you gotta tread so carefully. I’d hate to think that we ever offended anyone. I think most of our characters were so fantastical and based on surrealism and fantasy, based on our heroes. And everything was a celebration of those heroes and of a surrealist, fantastical, dreamlike child angle on all of that. So when you get accused of something so dark, it really hurts; we were all really hurt by it.”

“We always made sure that everything we did was based on fun, humour and silliness and never wanted to offend, upset or alienate anyone,” he continued. “We had so many people [fans] who felt like they were on the fringes of society all getting together because of their love of the Boosh. And we’d have people sending us letters saying, ‘I was suicidal’ or ‘I was being bullied, then I got together with this Boosh community. You’ve saved my life – you’ve improved my life’. We were always getting beautiful letters and feedback from fans. To then hear that we were getting cancelled for being inappropriate, it was like a double-edged sword where you go, ‘OK, times have changed, and we would never write that stuff now.’ But at the same time, there was never any malice.”

Brown added: “We weren’t dressing up or doing voices to alienate a particular race or particular section of society. But if we did offend anyone or if anyone watches it now and is offended, then that’s really sad, and we’re sorry.”

Towards the end of our conversation, I was keen to ask the question on all fans’ lips: “Have we seen the end of the Mighty Boosh?”

“All of us are still very close,” Brown affirmed. “We talk to each other all the time. I talk to Noel more than anyone else, but still, Julian was down here a couple of weekends ago. You know, life becomes life. Most of us have got children now. Rich has now moved from America to Richmond. We all meet up occasionally. We met up before Christmas at a Kim Noble gig, which was incredible.”

“We have a massive following in Australia; hence, this gallery have contacted me and asked me to put these exhibitions on. I was like, ‘Does anyone give a shit anymore?’ And they’re like, ‘Yeah, it’s massive!’ So there was always talk of doing a reunion show or something. But it’s a hard one, you know – I try and think of Noel squeezing back into it. It would have to be relevant to the time. I don’t know how it would be or what it would be, or whether it be as a band.”

Brown then revealed that, beyond the group’s near-constant musical references and sonic tangents in the various live and TV episodes, they had actually put a lot of work into an album. “We went to Electric Lady Studios in New York and recorded a whole album,” he revealed. “Like 25 tracks properly produced in one of the best Studios in New York, and it never got released because of disputes between the American representatives and English representatives. And Noel and Julian had a meltdown over that.”

As well as their huge following in Australia, The Mighty Boosh aired in the US on Adult Swim and dredged a cult following. “A cult following over there is like ten times bigger than a popular following over here,” Brown said.

They weren’t totally aware of the scale of their influence across the Atlantic until they visited on a DJ tour. “We went to New York and LA and did the big Comic Con in San Diego, and it was just fucking insane,” Brown remembered. “The following was mental. We went to the Bowery Ballroom in New York, and we were just meant to be doing a DJ set. But we ended up doing a bit of a live ad-lib thing, finding costumes and stuff because it was sold out. There were queues like four blocks down the road trying to get in, and the Roxy was the same.”

Below, we present a collection of photographs from Brown’s colossal archive, some of which you may recognise; others have been shared exclusively for his feature. The photographs are arranged chronologically, mapping out The Mighty Boosh’s epic journey from 1997 to 2013.

Dave Brown’s Photographic Journey With The Mighty Boosh:

Show at Hen & Chickens in Highbury & Islington 1997

‘The Mighty Boosh’ at Edinburgh Fringe 1998

‘Arctic Boosh’ at Edinburgh Fringe 2000

‘Auto Boosh’ at Edinburgh Fringe 2001 

‘Auto Boosh’ in Melbourne, Australia 2001

BBC TV Pilot 2003

BBC TV Pilot 2003

BBC TV Series 1 Rehearsals 2004 

BBC TV Series 1 2004

BBC TV Series 2 2005

Live Tour Rehearsals 2006

Dave’s selfie in Bollo eye makeup for the first live show in York 2006

Live Tour 2006

BBC TV Series 3 Filming 2007 

Live Tour Rehearsals 2008 

Live Tour 2008 

Creating Live Tour Artwork 2008

Boosh Festival 2008 

USA Promo Tour Comic Con 2009 

Recording album in USA 2011

x

[danvolodar]

On looking for bloodthirsty savages under the wrong beds

One of the stranger opinions I keep seeing about Pathologic is that it supposedly depicts the Kin as savages (optionally: bloodthirsty ones). This is usually brought up when the game is viewed through an anti-colonialist lens, and I've seen it used as an argument to accuse Pathologic of taking a pro-colonialist and anti-indigenous stance.

And I can't help but wonder: what is shown in the game to paint the Khatanghe as savages? Is it odonghe seeking vengeance against Rubin for knowing and purposeful sacrilege? The sacrifice of Nara - which works its magic as intended? Just what is there? No notable savagery comes to mind, particularly not anything unjustifiable.

And just compare that to the townspeople and the Capital-based civilisation they represent - the supposed "colonisers", whose side the game supposedly takes (I actually have a few thoughts on this subject as well, but it's for a separate post). Literal witch-hunts with burning innocent women alive, attacking random passerby all vs one with deadly force, and it only goes downhill from there with mass looting and banditry, and culminates with the Inquisitor and her mass hangings, and then the arrival of the Army's death machine.

There's an idiom in Russian coined by Osip Mandelstam, used to describe the XX century - век-людоед, the man-eating century. And indeed, that's when the power of the industry was most egregiously employed to produce death. And the game shows us a glimpse of that industrialised mass murder with how the powers in the Capital deal with the infestation (this is, btw, also what the Deserter saw in Disco Elysium to make him utter his "I saw the mask slipping off" - another wildly misinterpreted piece).

This is the true savagery, and the Kin, whose infrequent violence is always on the personal level and combined with readiness for self-sacrifice, has nothing on it.

[yunarim]

🥀 DAUGHTER OF EVIL | RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

The flower of evil sweetly blooms with maddening color // Although it's a very lovely flower // Indeed, there are too many thorns to touch it

ʚ🌹ɞ — ever since little you’ve been a servant of evil famous for an unswerving loyalty and devotion to the queendom’s only ruler, a crimson tyrant named riddle rosehearts. his every complaint, his mere whimsies — you’ve made those all come true, had he only snap his fingers. and now, witnessing the end of both of you — you wonder, what kind of future awaits you two?

✎ tags : gn reader, saga of evil inspired, reader as len (aka servant of evil but not riddle's twin, reader and riddle are not siblings in any ways), can be read as platonic, angst throughout the fic, mentions of death, happy ending

▸notes : lmao i actually re-entered my vocaloid obsession phase and decided to give it go. i kinda have all the dorm leaders assigned to the 7 deadly sins series, would you be willing to read everyone else's parts? ㅋㅋㅋ ✦ W.C. : 2.8K

“So, shall we start?”

Riddle crosses his legs, a high heel pointing at the lowly being in front of his eyes begging for something ever so utterly insignificant it’s boring. Ah, no, there’s another emotion making his blood boil in his vessels — annoyance.

“Your majesty,” a plowman swallows under Riddle’s sharp gaze and folds his hands in a prayer gesture, falling to his knees. “I h-have no right to beg, b-but the field can no longer be plowed, it has exhausted all its resources. A-and it hasn't rained in the kingdom for a long time…”

“Ha,” Riddle lets out a provocative laughter. “So? You know you can’t beg me, but came here just for that purpose?”

“P-please, if only you could cast a rain!.. I will repay you twice, no, thrice as hard!! P-please, your majesty, I!—”

“To think that you expect me to excuse you for ruining the field!” He laughs, the hoarseness in his voice rises with a playful tone gliding around him. “Ha!! You insolent brat. You’re forgetting I sorely despise such ignorant fools like you. Off with your head!”

You know what follows this line. You see a collar of an unbelievable beauty, yet also of an eeriness no one would ever want to experience. The collar clasps around the man's neck thin from starving, and wants to dart your glance somewhere else but him, knowing exactly well that you can’t. 

“N-no…” a plowman cries. “I’m begging you, your majesty!! Please, anything but my magic!—”

“Take him away,” Riddle sighs, unamused. “I can’t stand these wails anymore.”

“As you wish, your majesty Rosehearts.”

Riddle follows your figure with a concentrated gaze fixed on your movements, and frowns at your actions. You tell the guards to get rid of the man that instant, no emotions flowing in the gleam of your eyes, and he wonders… How could you fit him so well?

There’s an absolute silence when you return and stand beside him at his right, a strong aroma of roses lingering around. It’s deceptively alluring, yet you feel like your skin could crumble just by standing here a second longer, though you also admit there’s no choice other than bowing your head so low it’s painful. 

“Yuu,” you don’t dare to shift your eyes to him, nor to move an inch. 

“Yes, your majesty Rosehearts?”

“How many times have I told you to stop calling me that?”

 “You’re my sublimity, my only light and meaning of my lowly existence,” you answer unswervingly. 

“Haaa,” Riddle sighs, pressing a hand to his forehead. “Want to be beheaded so much?”

“I am very sorry, your majesty.”

“You don’t look sorry at all.”

You finally move, ready to fall on your knees, but he rises from his throne and waves a hand, stopping you from doing anything absolutely ridiculous. Ah seriously, did he hurry when thinking you fit him so much? 

Can’t you see he’s being different to you?

“Yuu,” his voice is suddenly low and dark. “Drop your act immediately, I know you’re a terrible actor.”

“In order to be an exceptionally flawless servant to you, your majesty Rosehearts, I must—”

“Enough!!”

You finally look up at him, witnessing his frown.

“It’s Riddle for you.”

You jolt when hear his heels echoing in the hall, and turn around to raise an objection, but then again who are you to have the right to do that? 

The bells ring with deafening blows of the striker against the bronze walls, and Riddle turns to you, meeting your lost glance.

“Oh, it’s tea time.”

“I’ll prepare everything.”

You bow as lowly as you can, and ask to excuse you for leaving, and go back to the kitchen as if nothing ever happened a few minutes ago.

He’s always been like that. You remember him since you were born. You, a child of a counselor close to the previous king, possessing an enormous amount of magic within, and Riddle, future kingdom’s ruler. Despite your family losing all its value and status, you were assigned to being Riddle’s servant, thanks to the devotion of your ancestors. 

Every other servant would often ask you how come you just didn’t abandon your position with the magic of your level or why wouldn’t you just kill him. 

You don’t know yourself. If it was that easy to answer, you wouldn’t be here in the first place, and yet an image of Riddle’s genuine smile with a child-like playfulness splashing in the corner of his small red lips was fathoming you with a happiness blossoming inside. 

Your heart aches whenever you remember Riddle mother’s strict yells and slaps she gave for mistakes at the age of five. You remember him sneaking out to eat a strawberry tart you bake, you also can’t forget the scars she left on you for being so lenient and exceeding your authorities—to think you dared to try helping him. 

After all that,

Was there even a way to betray that smile that shines on his face when he looks at you?

“Oh, Yuu.”

You bow to Riddle when you see him approaching you riding a horse. His intimate tender smile who no one ever managed to witness, the smile he demonstrated exceptionally to you. 

You can’t help but smile at him in return and jolt right after, remembering you have no right to do that.

“Ah,” he says, jumping off the horse with a light elegant move, and comes to you. “Why did you stop?”

“Stop?” You echo him. 

“Smiling. It suits you.”

You swallow painfully, lowering your head and hearing an annoyed sigh from him again.

“Well then,” his hands land on your waist, causing you to gasp. “I just have to make you smile again.”

“Y-your majesty Rosehearts?..”

“Josephine,” he calls his horse and smiles. “Help me out.”

Josephine lowers slightly to make it easier for you to get on, and Riddle tries unsuccessfully to put you on. 

“Your majesty Rosehearts, let me…”

You follow his silent request to get on the horse, and look at him with a confused gaze. Everything becomes more complicated when he jumps right after, making your back touch his chest, and he grabs the reins. 

“Y-your ma!—”

“Ha-ha!” His laugh is clear and genuine, he smells like roses even on a horse, and you can’t help but smile. “I always wanted to ride with you.”

“With me?..”

“Indeed. You’re different from them.”

“Yes?” 

“You…” A strong wind current makes you close your eyes and grab the reins in order to not fall, and feel Riddle pressing his whole body to yours, making sure you will hear him almost whispering in your ear. “Never speak bad about me behind my back.”

You don’t know how to respond, but Riddle doesn’t look like he would be happy to hear your reply in any case, so you let yourself enjoy the ride for a minute, and then turn to him, your heart skipping a beat at the sight of his pinkish cheeks. 

“I have something to report—”

“Yuu!”

You hear two familiar voices, and ask Riddle to dismount. He helps you to get off the horse, and those who called you by your name run to you, welcoming in a warm embraces.

“Ace, Deuce,” you greet them calmly, despite your heart beating much faster. “I apologize for meeting you in such an unpleasant state of mine.”

“Nonsense,” Ace laughs off. “You’re just as silly as ever!”

“He’s right,” Deuce joins him and pokes your cheek. “We missed you!”

“I…” You turn to Riddle.

He’s not frowning, he’s not annoyed, he’s… You know that emotion. Disdain.

“Good afternoon, your majesty,” Deuce welcomes him, bowing, and Ace follows him not so eagerly. 

“Ignorant as you ever were.”

“Your majesty Rosehearts, I wanted to report that Ace Trappola and Deuce Spade came in order to negotiate regarding the distribution of magical resources.”

“That is right, your majesty,” Deuce says. “And we have to proclaim the most important decision we had to make.”

You feel Ace grabbing you by the shoulder and look at him as if he lost all of his mind. And maybe he really did.

“We need to take Yuu with us as the only person left in the whole Queendom of Roses with such an enormous magical energy in order to provide them a promising future.”

You met Ace and Deuce while going shopping in the Clock Town, running out of magical artifacts, and instantly felt an unknown warm feeling growing in your chest. Red roses of happiness blossomed within, when you recognized that you can actually feel the emotion of being loved by your friends. You genuinely enjoyed the times you happened to meet them in the town. 

And even though you knew they, like all of people in the Queendom of Roses, couldn’t stand Riddle Rosehearts’s tyranny and frivolous restriction of other people's magical abilities, you were predestined to have an exceptional enormous magic flowing within you, which Ace and Deuce were interested in. And unlike others, their unrotten desire was to make you happy, to let you study magic just as freely as you wished. 

You once said you can’t betray your master, and the following question ‘Why is that?’ was absurdly reasonable, and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to answer. 

There was no such reason. Nothing except for Riddle’s warm smile, his lenient approach to you and the way his cheeks grew red when he was trying to impress you with gifts. You couldn’t dare to imagine deceiving his rapid heartbeat whenever you two studied magic together.

But Ace and Deuce were adamant to the point they wanted you to be free even and tyrant to be dethroned miserably. Despite knowing the state Queendom of Roses was in, how people starved and died after their magic being restricted which led to rain no longer falling and soils drying out forever, you still were… selfish.  

And maybe your friends were too when deciding they could just rip you off Riddle’s strong chains.

“Make sure the Clock Town is badly stirred.”

You fell on your knees, your mind filled with void, and the only thing you could think about was to execute an order Riddle gave. 

Your hands were shaking, you couldn’t hold the magic pen properly, and the flames of red flew everywhere around the Clock Town. 

Heart-rending screams filled the entire space. You did not notice how the cinders and burnt dust filled your lungs; hysterical crying and crackling sparks of fire rang in your ears, but you mindlessly walked forward, squeezing the magic pen in your fingers.

“Yuu…” Deuce heard you, turning around.

He threw his head up, and a new stream of unrestrained tears gushed from his clear teal eyes.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Remember me and Ace love you.”

He chuckled before you casted a magic spell devouring him.

“Goodbye, my dear best friend.”

You closed your eyes, dropping the pen and letting out an uncontrollable wail.

The servants ran away as time was short. You watched Ace leading the opposition, magic traces so obvious it could be seen in the air with the flows of bright crimson, ashes surrounding every inch of the castle, and you drew the curtain. 

“Your majesty Rosehearts, you should run!”

“To hell with running away! I’m not a coward! I want to protect you!!”

“Y-you majesty Rosehearts,” your voice trembled at how genuine Riddle sounded, and you bit your lip, kneeling before him.

“Before long, the angry townspeople will probably overthrow us. Even if we so rightly deserve this. Despite this, I will still defy them.”

“Don’t you dare!! It’s an order, Yuu!”

You turned to him, his eyes glowing with unconcealed sadness and rage at once, tears sliding down his cheeks. 

“Off with your head!”

You reflect the spell he tried casting on you, gifting him with an apologetic smile, and Riddle sees how much blot you accumulated.

“Yuu… no… you can’t…”

“Riddle.”

He rose up his head and felt air hitching in his throat, not allowing him to say anything to you. 

“I’ll cover as you, and you use all the magic remaining to cover as me. You need to escape immediately, this would be my one and only wish. You remember I never asked for anything? Now it’s time for you to finally grant me your safety.”

Wave of magic enveloped you, and the second after Riddle was staring at the copy of himself, an ink embracing your limbs, and he felt pathetic for leaving you in that state. 

“You… you ignorant… brat… How could.. you!” Sobs prevented him from speaking clearly, squeezing his throat with burning rods, but he could not go across your last request, waving a magic pen, and taking on your appearance. “If it’s to protect you, I will even become evil.”

Even if the entire world becomes his enemy, I will protect you, so just be there smiling and laughing. 

You feel like burning, ashes and magic currents no longer feel familiar, it’s a deadly fire to your skin, and you see Ace screaming when flames envelop your body, and you physically feel how phantom rips off your body, the threads of your connection dying out. You use your last remaining powers to let the cover be saved to the very end, even when Ace’s hateful odious gaze filled with poison towards Riddle fixes on you.

It’s painful. It’s painful to the point you want to let your cover wear off, to beg Ace to save you from this burning hell, and the glimpse of familiar crimson hair locks somewhere behind the wall of dust chains you up to the conscious state for a moment. 

Ah… right. The very reason you feel like disappearing is him. 

You smile at him, seeing his teary eyes, and want to run closer, to ride Josephine together one more time, to sneak out and eat a strawberry tart, to practice magic together, to—

To envelop him in your warm embrace and to never let him go. If I could be reborn, at that time, I’d like to play with you again.

You press a hand to your forehead, wondering how in the world did you end up transmigrating to the other dimension. It was pretty much fine minding your business on Earth, why would you suddenly transfer here? And what is here actually?

You hear people whispering something about you—magicless human, blah-blah-blah or whatsoever—is magic really a thing here? You suddenly feel a viscous feeling tiring you out when you think about using magic. How peculiar, given you don’t even know what it would be like.

“To think you presume you would run away from me.”

You blink absentmindedly when you hear the voice so oddly familiar and strangely endearing, despite the situation not being conducive. 

“Off with your head!”

The tone, the hoarseness in this voice makes you jolt and swallow, you don’t realize you’re shivering. 

“You okay?” Someone asks you but you don’t hear anything despite the voice.

You follow its source with your concentrated gaze and finally find the boy with bright red hair and gray eyes, an annoying gaze of which is aimed at the creature who introduced himself as Grim, who caused the commotion.

“As wonderful as ever. Any and all magic gets sealed by your Unique Magic, Riddle-san.”

Riddle…

How come you know his name despite never having met him before?

“Hmph,” the boy shrugs it off. “Of course I— Huh?”

You feel his gaze landing on you, and he drops his magic pen, looking straight at you. Indescribable feeling fills you up instantly, and you suddenly just know your skin feels like it's burning, and somehow there’s a rose aroma lingering in the air.

“Yuu?..”

“Huh? You know them?” The other boy asks when Riddle parts his lips.

“I am not… sure?”

“You’re,” you approach him, subconsciously feeling a strange urge to embrace him. “Riddle Rosehearts.”

“You’re correct, indeed, but how in the world… Ahem.”

He coughs and stretches out a hand to you to shake it.

“Nice to meet you. Please call me… Riddle.”

“What?! Did dorm leader Rosehearts just say to call him only by his name… this magicless human?!”

You don’t know what you are getting down on your knees and taking his hand, pressing an ephemeral kiss on its back. 

“W-wha?!—”

“Oh!” You raise up instantly, realizing what you just did. “I’m sorry, it was an… instinct?..”

“Is that so…” 

Somehow… you don’t understand what is that exceptionally majestic about him, but you smile and see how his cheeks grow red.

“Riddle,” you say his name out loud quite awkwardly, as if trying to roll it on your tongue and taste how it sounds, and he blushes. “I know it’s sudden, but would it be okay to eat a strawberry tart together after this all will be solved?”

“I… don’t mind.”

If I were to be reborn... it'll be nice if we'll meet again.

© yunarim 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭, 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐲, 𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧.

[hlficlibrary]

✤ Crime Fics ✤

A series of posts with the top five fics of each category by kudos plus five more hidden gems from that category! Remember to leave kudos and a comment on the fics you enjoyed to show your appreciation! You can find our other recs here.

- Top 5 H/L Fics -

1️⃣ my heart, in deadly rhythm by orphan_account (M, 42k)

There exists somewhere a very, very small list containing the names of people who don’t want Louis Tomlinson dead. Harry Styles may or may not be one of those people.

(or a Spies!AU in which Liam is the Wade to Louis' Kim Possible, Zayn seduces people for intel, Niall is an expert at blowing things up, and Harry is more than a bit famous in his particular field... or infamous, actually. And Louis? Well, Louis just wishes people would quit trying so bloody hard to kill him all the time.)

2️⃣ A Rose, By Any Other Name by iwillpaintasongforlou / @canonlarry (E, 10k)

“I don’t understand, Mr. Tomlinson,” Harry says quietly.

“You don’t have to understand, sweetheart.” Louis reaches over and runs his thumb across Harry’s cheekbone, watching the boy’s breathing pause as he dares not move beneath the touch of this strange, imposing man. “All you need to know is that you work for me now, and that I’m going to keep you safe from all the bad people in this city, you hear?”

Louis Tomlinson is the head of New York City's mafia, and Harry is the beautiful boy from Texas who falls in with the wrong crowd (which turns out to be the right crowd).

3️⃣ Little Cub by aace1234 (NR, 68k)

Harry is head of the underground, he's ruthless, possessive, feared and powerful.

Louis is a student, his dad works for Harry but Louis has no idea about the underground world.

What happens when Louis Dad causes trouble and Harry kidnaps Louis for revenge.

4️⃣ we've got the world in our hands by sarcasticfluentry (E, 54k)

A mutants/superpowers AU. Louis and his friends attend the Cowell Institute for General Education and Mutant Training in London; when Louis meets Harry, the newest student at the Cowell Institute, he immediately recruits Harry to help play matchmaker for his friend Zayn. Harry and Louis are so caught up in meddling in Zayn's love life, though, that they don't notice that their own friendship is progressing into something more. Meanwhile, an ominous threat up north grows slowly until suddenly, no mutant - or human - is safe.

5️⃣ Watch Him As He Goes by LoadedGunn (M, 14k)

It's why Harry loves assignments with Louis; they're thrilling in a way. It's like he never rests. He's this animated, gorgeous guy who's all over the place and Harry actually has to work hard just to catch up to him.

It kind of reminds him of trying to stalk a predator stalking its prey, with his old 70-300 mm lens. Only the predator is a cheeky arsehole. "Come along Harold, I know you usually wait for your zebras to pose for you but here you've got to think on your feet," Louis yelled one time, before disappearing to interview Detective Payne. Never mind the fact Harry was slow in the first place because of Louis' tight jeans.

Or, the AU where Louis' the best police reporter in the country, Harry's the new photographer who is more used to penguins than human subjects, and also there are superheroes.

HIDDEN GEMS:

💎 this charade (was never going to last) by @scrunchyharry (E, 68k)

On the surface, CitizenX, an international caritative nonprofit, looked like any other nonprofit, funding humanitarian missions worldwide and striving to make the world a better place, one donation at a time.

At least, that was what Harry thought, until he was hired as a computer specialist for a spinoff agency called carish, whose true purpose was to reveal CitizenX’s tangled web of lies.

As if the whole ‘industrial spy’ business was not stressful enough, Harry found himself in a hatred-at-first-sight relationship with one of his new coworkers, Louis, a man intent on detesting Harry.

When the worst happened and Harry and Louis found themselves thrown together in hiding, with only each other to rely on, Harry never could have predicted the turn their relationship would take.

Nor could he anticipate that it would all be taken away from him and he would have to decide how far he was willing to go to get Louis back.

💎 All My Roads Lead to You by @dandelionfairies (M, 41k)

Harry’s stuck in a life he didn’t choose after leaving home at eighteen. Bartending and running drugs were never on his list. Louis is an undercover cop sent in to figure out exactly what’s going on inside of the bar. Neither could have known they’d be drawn to each other.

It’s obvious to Louis that Harry isn’t aware of everything that happens in the backroom. It’s obvious that Nick [Grimshaw] has used Harry’s vulnerability, insecurities, and naivety to keep the man exactly where he wants him.

Harry has never admitted to anyone who he is. They wouldn’t accept him. In fact, he has no doubt that if anyone found out he’s gay, he’d be dead. He doesn’t want to let that wall down for Louis. Because no one can know. But that’s easier said than done. Louis is everything Harry could have ever pictured.

💎 Cowboy Like Me by Rearviewdreamer / @all-these-larrythings (M, 29k)

Going legit and starting over in a small town was supposed to solve all of Harry’s problems. That was until a string of robberies in wealthy towns brings him face-to-face with his rouge ex-partner and their dicey, unresolved past.

💎 Tonight's the Night by @jaerie (E, 24k)

Tonight’s the night. The night Harry has been waiting for. Everything has been carefully planned, nothing left to chance, the scene set and waiting for their arrival. It’s time.

Harry lives a double life. During the day he's Harry- trusty blood spatter analyst, at night his darkness comes out to play. So far he's been able to act his way through a normal life without drawing attention. What happens when that is no longer the case?

Or a Dexter AU where Harry is Dexter, Liam is Doakes, Niall is Masuka and Gemma is Deb.

💎 Harry, That Kills People by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup (T, 2k)

If there’s one thing that Harry hates, it’s getting his clothes dirty.

If there’s one other thing that Harry hates, it’s murder.

Unfortunately, right here and right now, Harry’s clothes are dirty, and he’s murdered someone. So. It’s not a great day.

“Ugh,” says Harry. “Yeargh. Bleh.”