#This has to be the quickest drawing I've ever made

[morag-renart]

Screencap redraw from the Sonic 3 trailer from today.

I'm super hyped about this movie it's unreal.

Go watch the trailer if you haven't!

Support my work: Ko-Fi &TikTok

[preciouslittle-bhaalbabe]

Not one to beg.

Soft, sweet and fluffy mostly plotless smut brainrot because these two have made a small hole in my brain and they won't stop kissing ;w;

(this is the first time i've ever legit written any kind of smut so be gentle, if you can)

Ft: Astarion x my durge Tomie

It had been a few weeks since the party. Since the night Astarion and Tomie spent together. Astarion thought it would be just the same as any other seduction. But it wasn't.

Her touch, her skin, her voice, her blood. He craved it like a drug. Not only that, but she made him feel truly wanted. Not just his body, but his company. His time. Every time he insisted they give her neck a break and go hunting, she was right there with him. Tail swishing back and forth excitedly. She could never hide how much she enjoys being around him. He hated it, but he knows he shares the same feelings. She feels like home in a way he hasn't felt in centuries.

When she did let him feed, the rush of desire that floods into him is nearly impossible to bear. He has to stifle moans and keep his body from needily pressing against hers. She must have felt it. There's no way she couldn't. But she never said anything. She hasn't tried to instigate intimacy once since that night. Despite the near constant flirting, small cheek kisses and innuendo exchanged between them. Astarion is shocked. Some nights he had to settle for his own hand just to alleviate the yearning. She was driving him insane and she had no idea. Or maybe she did, and this was all on purpose.

That sly little minx.

One night, Tomie delcared she will be going off to bathe in the nearby lake.

"Alright! Don't take too long, dinner is almost ready" Gale says.

Tomie nods and begins to walk towards the lakes direction with a small towel and some soap. Her tail swishes and she casts the quickest sly glance at Astarion. A hint of a smile on her pretty lips. He watches as she disappears into the treeline. That was the final straw.

"I'm going for a walk" Astarion says. Not waiting for a response from the others. Walking in the opposite direction of Tomie to not rise suspicion. He will double back once he's far enough away from the camp. A few moments of aimless wandering and racing thoughts. Should he do this? Was she avoiding it for a reason? But if that's the case, why would she be teasing him so much? Gods, it's like he can smell her from here. Warm, spicy, indulgent. But wait, how? Did she get hurt?His pace quickened from a casual stroll to a sprint. Now rushing towards the direction of the water he hears small curses and gasps of breath. Not wanting to scare her, he hides behind a tree and peeks at the scene ahead.

She was in her undergarments, washing her day clothes in the lake. She had accidentally sliced her hand a little with a rock. Nothing too serious. She cast heal wounds on it within moments and looked around, making sure the blood didn't draw any predators. Once content, she went back to washing her clothes in the water then wading in herself. Still in her underclothes. She closed her eyes and floated there for a while. Looking truly at peace.

It's now or never. Astarion emerges from a tree, just the same as he did the first time.

"There you are" He says.

"Oh! Hi Astarion! Come to do some washing?" Tomie asks. A sweet seemingly innocent smile on her face. But a small glint in her eye indicated to him that she knew EXACTLY what she was doing.

"Something like that. I was drawn to the scent of your blood, I wanted to make sure you were alright" He tries to add as much velvet to his voice as possible. He's done this thousands of times before. Why would this be any different?

"Such a worrywart, don't tell me you've started to care have you?" Tomie says. Her voice soft as silk, putting his seduction attempt almost to shame. Tomie effortlessly swims to the lakeshore and emerges from the water, dripping, her undergarments clinging to every curve. Her ivory hair wet and slicked back, effortlessly cascading down her shoulders. She was a vision. She gently shakes herself off a little then meets her eyes with his. Her bright red eyes and cat-like pupils shine in the moonlight. He had never noticed that her eyes glow like that before. She approaches him and he finds himself leaning his back against the very tree he was hiding behind. He felt almost dizzy.

"Now, why don't you tell me why you're really here?" Tomie purrs. Her hands behind her back, leaning forward slightly. Her tail slowly waving side to side.

"Well" Astarion scoffs. "Isn't it obvious??" He's supposed to be the seductive one. Making people swoon with just a few words. How is it that this woman flusters him so?

"Not to me. See, I prefer when someone is direct. I want to know exactly what you need from me" Tomie brushes her fingertips against his arm, sending tingles all the way through his body.

"Darling, I'm not one to beg but-"

"No no, I don't want you to beg. I just want you to tell me".

Tomie's torso is flush with his now. Her tail twitches with anticipation as she continues tracing her fingertips against his arm. Looking up at him sweetly. He takes a deep breath and sighs once he realises he hasn't been breathing since she came out of the lake.

He takes her hand and starts kissing each fingertip, Slightly cold from the water. He drops the sensual facade. Neither of them want this to be a performance. In between kisses he admits to himself and to her:

"I need to taste you again, to feel you, to indulge myself in you". He says. His voice earnest and wanting.

"I want the same" she says. There's a hint of relief in her tone as she wraps her arms around his neck. They both rest their foreheads against each other. With a deep sigh he places both his hands around her waist, running them up and down her curves.

"Then why didn't you say anything? I've been losing my mind these past weeks" Astarion says, his voice gentle and low, barely above a whisper.

"I...I never want you to do anything you don't want to do" She cups his face in her hands and rubs her thumbs along his cheekbones. He melts into the sensation. She moves her head back to look directly into his eyes. Her expression so sincere, so gentle.

"I noticed how distant your eyes looked last time, and I know your experiences with sex haven't been exactly...Pleasant. I wanted to wait until you were ready."

"You sweet, generous thing" He places a small pecks on her cheek and forehead while she giggles. In one swift motion, he ducks to the side and spins her around so now she's the one against the tree.

"Ha,déjà vu" Tomie giggles.

He's tired of waiting. He grabs the back of her head and presses his lips against hers. She wraps her arms back around his neck and gently runs her fingers through his hair. He presses his thigh between her legs, causing a soft, sweet moan to come out of her. He slowly removes his shirt in between deep kisses, and unbuttons her damp undershirt with swiftness and skill. He will never get used to that feeling of skin to skin. She is so warm, so soft. Several weeks of pent up desire flood through him as he explores every inch and curve of her body with his fingers. Low moans and growls come from deep within his chest. Finally, he releases her so she can catch her breath. Her lips are pink and puffy from the kisses, her cheeks and ears flush with blood and desire. She moves her hand from behind his neck to his face as he play bites at her fingers. Giving her one last deep kiss then trailing smaller kisses down to her neck, brushing some of her hair out of the way.

"May I, darling?" Astarion purrs.

"Of course, Astarion. Always."

"Gods, my name sounds so sweet coming from you".

Holding the back of her head steady, he licks and kisses the small puncture scars on her neck made from previous encounters. He gently bites down and starts drinking her life essence.

"Hmmph" He groans in pleasure with every swallow. He holds her closely against himself. Craving to touch as much of his skin to hers as he can. He feels the warmth of her blood spreading between both of their bodies. Her blood alone is enough to drive him to madness. He starts to feel the slight buzz he gets when full. He unlatches himself from her neck before he drinks too much, gently licking the beading blood from the wound and his lips.

*sigh* "You are delectable, you know that?"

"You've mentioned it once or twice" Tomie coos.

"You're alright?" Astarion says. "Not lightheaded or faint?" He holds her face in his hands and kisses her nose.

"I'm perfectly fine" Tomie smiles.

"Good. Now where were we?"

He resumes kissing her. The sweet copper taste from her blood still on his lips. They clumsily find a soft patch of grass and lie down, Astarion on top. He presses himself against her skin as if he can't get close enough. They start rolling against each other in a slow, melodic tempo. He doesn't want to rush. He stops kissing her and sits up for a moment. Taking her in. Her chest rising and falling with every breath. Lidded eyes full of love and desire. Her mouth slightly open and lips parted.

"I think I need to taste you again, my dear"

"Oh? I'm not sure I have enough blood for tha- ah!"

He kisses his way down to between her legs. Gently massaging her flesh, and kissing and biting her inner thighs. He slowly removes her underwear, damp with water and arousal, and moves his kisses closer to her aching sex. He looks up at her again from between her legs.

"May I, darling?" Astarion says with a smirk.

"Gods yes." Tomie says, breathless.

"Ah ah, yes what?" Astarion says coyly.

"Yes, Astarion".

A low moan comes from deep within him as he wraps his lips around her slit. His tongue slowly parting her lips to expose her clit. Her sweet juices covering his mouth within moments. He kisses and licks her clit slowly and gently, then with more force. Tomie starts to squirm and shake from the sensation. When he is sure she is about to go over the edge, he stops.

A dissapointed sigh comes from her.

"Don't worry darling, I'm not going to leave you hanging".

He removes his pants and exposes is throbbing length, sopping wet from arousal. He comes back up to meet her lips and presses deep kisses against her. He brings his elbows up to prop himself up while cradling her head. He hooks his leg under hers and brings it upwards. Then slowly slides the head of his cock between her slit tentatively. Rocking back and forth. A frusterated moan comes from her between kisses and with a laugh, he decides they've both had enough teasing. He finally slides himself in. A small whimper threatens to escape from his lips.

"Gods, never make me wait that long again, my dear" Astarion says breathless.

"Never again" Tomie moans.

They rock together in smooth motions, slowly at first then increasing in speed and desperation. Tomie pushes against him and they roll over so that Astarion is now lying on his back.

"You don't have to do all the work you know. Let me spoil you for once" Tomie purrs.

She slides herself back onto his length and begins to thrust her hips in rhythmic motion. Astarion places his hands on her hips to keep them steady. She looks stunning riding on top of him like this. Taking him in completely. She leans forward and they continue to rock and kiss against each other. Small whimpers come from Astarion as he grips her tighter. Thrusting more vigorously. She can't hold herself back anymore and rides into her orgasm. Legs shaking slightly and her pussy pulsing against his throbbing cock. He's not far behind, they both moan into each others mouths between kisses as they pass over the edge of bliss. Tomie collapses onto Astarions chest as they both giggle. Astarion wraps his arms around her and strokes her back. They both stay silent for a few moments. Cuddling into each other and slowing their breaths down.

"So, what do you think Gale made for dinner?" Tomie asks, looking up at him. Astarion lets out a hearty laugh.

"I don't know, but I'm sure it's nothing compared to the meal I just had."

Tomie giggles, then relaxes back onto his chest. He doesn't quite know what they are, or what he's feeling. But he does know that this? This is nice.

[lonelycowgirls]

Scared

Hey guys! Here we are again ✨

So, this is a long, angsty piece of work that I've been drafting for quite a while. I'm not sure where my inspiration came from, but I do like to write and explore deeper aspects of relationships and life. I really hope this doesn't rub anyone up the wrong way. These things happen every day and I for one feel very lucky to live in a country that operates on a pro-choice basis, for the most part. Whatever keeps a person alive and healthy is what I think is the priority. I won't get into the politics of it all, I'm purely reflecting life and its complex feelings and emotions through art.

Nevertheless, this is a part of Stella and Harry's story - it's entirely fictional and has nothing to do with the real people. I hope you all take it that way.

I also hope you enjoy reading it.

Nel x

WARNINGS | Unwanted Pregnancy | Adult Language | Minors DNI | Lots of Angst

Word count: 6.6k

2014

“Ah sweet, Emma put out the chocolate-covered raisins I asked her for,” Harry waltzed in from his rehearsal into the canteen area set up for the band and crew. He was beaming at the buffet table spread out before them, a child-like energy still so prevalent even at the age of 20. Stella had been staring into the bowl of potato salad for God knows how long by that point. “Y’alright, babe?” He nudged her side while popping a handful of the dried fruit sweets into his mouth.

“Yeah…” Stella glanced up at him before turning away and walking over to grab a banana from the fruit bowl. She tugged at the tip of the banana, but it wouldn’t budge. Tugging harder and scoffing with frustration before slamming the banana back onto the buffet table.

She screwed her eyes shut and ran a hand over her forehead, sighing heavily. When she opened them again she saw a peeled yellow fruit under her nose. She looked up at Harry and took the banana, she swallowed through her dry throat over the nausea crawling up from her nervy tummy. He winked and popped another raisin in his mouth over a smirk.

“I’m pregnant, Harry.”

He was almost sure his heart stopped for a few moments. The smirk fell the quickest it had ever fallen - she’d likely remember his facial response forever.

“What?” He whispered. His eyes were wide in shock, his blood ran cold with a shiver up his spine. She nodded, the tears welling in her eyes for what felt like the hundredth time since she’d found out. She couldn’t believe she’d become that girl. That girl in his life. The girl to ruin his life. “You,” He shakily attempted to draw in breaths to steady his racing heart. “No, no, y-you can’t be pregnant, you’re-”

“I’m on the pill.” She spoke over him, stepping back and running a sweaty palm through her hair. “I know, trust me I know, I’ve been questioning everything for days. Apparently it’s not 100 per cent effective.”

“We- you can’t be pregnant… I’m about to go on the biggest tour of my life.” He stepped back, stumbling on his feet slightly. He brought a hand up to his forehead and she watched his fingers shake.

“I know that-” she murmured quietly, but he cut her off again. He was panicking, now.

“We can’t have a baby- fuck.” He cursed, running both hands through his fast-growing curls and tugging at the back of his head. “We’re always so careful, right?” His voice was muffled through the sleeves of his top as his face was buried in his arms.

“I mean, yeah… I guess we needed to be more careful.” She sniffled, still not looking at him. She’d expected him to feel and react this way, but it still made the whole situation that much more emotional and scary. He snapped to look at her when he heard her small sob of sorrow.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, Stell. You should’ve told me as soon as you found out.” He leaned back against the buffet table, reeving up the cream tablecloth. Emma always complained about the stains that the boys would leave on it but still refused to get any other colour.

“I knew you’d react like this, H… I was scared.” She was folded in on herself now, protecting herself from the rejection she swore was coming.

“I know… I’m sorry, I’m just shocked. I never wanted to do this to you.” Stella looked at him with that. Their eyes locked, his shiny green with her deep brown.

“You haven’t done anything bad, Harry. In theory. There are things we can do… things we have to do.” They stayed silent for a moment as Harry racked his brain through the options he knew about from sex education lessons at school.

“Won’t that hurt though?” His eyebrows were tied in the middle, concern flooding his pale face. His shoulders were sunk, he looked like a helpless little boy. Nowhere near ready to be a father. She took a careful step towards him, unable to stop herself - he needed comforting.

“I’m sure it won’t hurt nearly as much as giving birth, H.”  She laughed slightly, pushing a curl over his ear.

“I’m so sorry, Stell.” A large hand came to rest on her hip, a thumb stroking back and forth.

“You don’t have to be sorry.  It takes two to tango… and I was a very willing dance partner.” She winked, trying to lighten the mood. She brought her fingers to his chest, two of them tracing the cross that rested on it.

“Are you sure you’re okay with… with what you have to go through.” He spoke barely above a whisper, looking down to try and find the appropriate words but coming up empty.

“I’m a big girl, Harry.” She was telling herself as much as him.

“Yeah, I know…” He smiled slightly, somewhat proud of how mature she was and just as thankful for it, too. “Just know, one day… the time will be right. We’ll have beautiful babies, as many as you wanna push out.”

“Yeah?” She cocked her head as he smirked and another hand moved to curve around her hip. “We’ll see about that, Mr Cheaper by the Dozen.” She chuckled as he finally scooped her up into his arms, the feeling giving her an immense amount of comfort. He breathed her in, his face nuzzled in her neck as she ran her hands up and down his back. “I love you so much, I think we’re gonna be okay.” She whispered into his shoulder. Pulling away slightly to look down in her eyes, Harry kept his arms around her and smiled softly.

“I can’t believe there’s a baby in there…” He smirked, eyes getting a bit glossy. Goosebumps instantly sparked all over her body, she flinched in his arms almost as if his words had physically struck her. Regardless of how softly and sincerely he’d said them. She moved to gently push him off but he held tighter.

“No, H… it’s not a baby. Not yet.” She shook her head, blinking the tears away. She was exhausted, having been up for nearly 24 hours by that point, worrying about this exact situation. She pushed harder and stepped out of his arms, but he let his palm graze her belly as she moved away. She began slowly pacing, hands raising to rub at her eyes.

“What do you mean?” He asked, confused by her sudden return to her stressful demeanour. He frowned, still leaning back against the buffet table.

“You can’t make this what it isn’t. You’ll… you’re making it harder.” Her breath was speeding up, a shaking hand being brought up to her chest as she fought the panic and nausea. He kept his hands by his sides now, fidgeting and anxiously picking at the skin around his thumbs with his forefingers.

“I don’t understand, babe.” He stated firmly, not knowing whether she needed his comfort or her space, but desperate to figure it out. Her pacing stalled in the middle of the room. A clear divide was now put between them.

“Harry, I have to go to the doctor’s and take a pill to get rid of this… whatever you can call this thing inside me. I can’t do that with the thought that it’s anything more than a speck in my womb. Alright? So, just don’t make this what it isn’t because I… I can’t.” She brought her hands to her face again, her breath catching in her throat as the anxiety continued to heighten and spill over. Harry stayed frozen, not knowing what to do, or how to help her. This was something he’d never been prepared for, he’d never learned about abortions in school or even discussed them with his mum or sister. His dad adopted the phrase, ‘Don’t be a fool, wrap your tool’ pretty much as soon as Harry turned 16. As far as he was concerned, Stella was still carrying his baby, no matter at what stage, which was making him feel unexpected things. He knew that right now wasn’t the time and it would be irresponsible of them, but he thought that if he romanticised it a little bit, she’d still feel loved and accepted by him. Boy, was he wrong.

“We need to tell someone-” Harry offered, his eyes following her pacing feet. She came to a halt again at his words.

“No. No, we can’t tell anyone.” She motioned with her hands, emphasising how serious she was.

“Have you even told your mum?” Harry reasoned, brow furrowed. Stella told her mum everything. He was sure her mother knew more about their relationship than he probably did.

“No, she’d kill me if she found out.”

“Well, maybe you can tell Dolly?” Harry grasped at straws, he thought she might need another woman’s opinion. He’d definitely be telling Gemma at some point, he knew she’d have comforting words. Most probably after thumping him on the back of the head for being so stupid as to get his 19-year-old girlfriend up the duff in the first place.

“I don’t know, Harry. I think it’s best nobody knows, I don’t want this following me.” The pacing returned.

“Well, I’ve gotta tell my mum,” Harry said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Why?!” The pacing stopped again, she looked at him like he’d suddenly grown a second head on his shoulder.

“Because she’s my mum, Stell. She knows more than me about this stuff. She’ll know what to say.” Stella didn’t doubt that, but she couldn’t bare Anne knowing that they’d been irresponsible enough to have to get an abortion. If she was scared of what her mum would think, she couldn’t summon the thought of Anne knowing.

“And you don’t think she’s gonna be disappointed?” Harry was quiet at that, folding his arms and dropping his gaze to the floor again. “You don’t think she’ll judge us? Judge me?” Stella stepped forward on each question, a fire behind her eyes now. She almost looked wild, her eyes bloodshot from the lack of sleep and her body almost vibrating with emotion.

“You know she’s not like that. She’ll understand. Yeah, she might be a bit shocked and sad that you’re getting rid of it but-”

“Oh, I’m getting rid of it? It’s just me, yeah? It’s all me, I’m dealing with your baby but it’s none of your business.” Stella was beyond help now, spitting venom in the quiet room. He’d not seen her act this way before.

“No… no, you know that’s not what I mean,” Harry said quietly, sounding fed up now as he dragged a hand across his face in exasperation. She stared at him with wide eyes, daring him to look at her. “I don’t know how to talk to you right now.” He grumbled, holding his hands up in surrender, before swiftly moving towards the door.

“Oh, fuckin’ hell, fine, do that! Lucky you can just walk away from this while I’m left to sort it out!” Her screeching words were punctuated by him slamming the door. “Prick.”

“Hiya, baby girl! How are you guys? How’s the tour rehearsals? Tell me everything!” Dolly’s beaming face on the other end of the FaceTime was almost making Stella feel better. Almost.

“It’s… it’s good, yeah. Can get a bit boring sometimes, but it’s nice to be able to go to bed with Harry every night.” She tried to sound happy and upbeat, hoping that her big sister wouldn’t see through her.

“Oh, girl I bet it is.” Dolly’s perfectly plucked eyebrows danced with a suggestive smirk, making Stella scoff.

“Not just for that reason, Doll. We go to the hotel pools or gyms together, then we go to dinner or we get a takeaway, the takeaways are a bit shit here though, I said to H I’d kill for a-”

“Okay, what’s going on, Stell?” Dolly asked suddenly. “You’re all flappy and flustered. Your eyes are bloodshot to fuck. Tell me what’s going on.” Stella sighed, dropping her head down onto her arm, willing the tears to stay in her damn eyeballs. She was sick of crying at that point. Deep down she knew that her sister would pick up on the signs straight away, she’d subconsciously called her for this exact reason. She just thought she’d have a little more time to get her courage up.

“You’re gonna be so upset with me.” Stella sobbed, fully crying now that she actually had to say the words. Dolly’s face was full of worry, whatever this news was, she was scared to know now.

“I won’t be upset, Stell. We can get through anything, but you’ve got to tell me.” Stella tried to take deep breaths, just so she could allow the words to leave her lips. “Stella, please, just tell me.”

“I’m… fucking pregnant, Dolly.” Dolly’s face fell into shock, her hand flying up to her mouth.

“Oh my God,” her eyes instantly filled with tears. “Stell…” She awkwardly laughed in disbelief, unexpected emotions bubbling up.

“I know.” Stella shook her head, eyes shut, tears still flowing.

“Fuck, okay. It’s fine. It’s gonna be fine.” Dolly dabbed her eyes with her fingers, trying not to smudge her winged eyeliner. “You obviously can’t tell Mum.”

“This is what I said to Harry! It would go down like a fart in a lift.” Dolly laughed and Stella joined in, it felt like the first time she’d laughed for a week straight. It felt good to make light, somewhat, of a very stressful situation. “I’ve got an appointment to get an abortion on Friday morning.”

“Ah Stell, you’re gonna… deal with it?” It was telling how nobody seemed to be able to say the actual word - it was one of the reasons Stella knew she’d be judged.

“I can’t have a baby right now, Dolly. Harry’s 20 years old. He’s having the time of his bloody life.” Stella blew out a soggy breath through her pouting lips, sniffing over the tail end of her tears.

“What about you?” Dolly asked, the conversation pausing for a moment. “I’m hearing a lot about Harry and not a lot about Stella.” Dolly rest her head on a fist as she looked in the camera lens.

“I… I can’t have a baby.” Stella’s hand absentmindedly landed on her lower belly, running her palm along the material of her t-shirt. “I’m not ready… there’re things I want to do. Things I want to accomplish. I especially can’t have Harry Styles’s baby. Can you imagine? I don’t want to be just his baby mama.” Stella anxiously cringed inwardly at the potential headlines. “The girl chasing for child support… the girl waiting at home looking after the kids while he’s off seeing the world… the girl left behind…” she whispered, trailing off with her eyes focused on the lamp on the bedside table.

“I get that. You’re gonna be more than that, of course, you are.” Dolly smiled over fresh tears welling up for her baby sister. When Harry first became famous, everyone was so excited, Dolly remembered it like it was yesterday. She’d watched Stella enjoy it, for a while. Recently she’d watched her struggle with it, watched her fade into the background. She’d never been truly accepted into his new lifestyle. By the people who were begging to be around him, or by his fans - everyone knew why, including Stella. But Dolly also knew she was in love with Harry, had been for years, and she wanted her sister to be happy. So she vowed she’d always be there to pick up the pieces when it all started to fall apart. “I wish I could come and be with you but I’m knee-deep at fashion week.”

“No, I know, of course, I understand. I’ll be fine.” Stella spoke sadly, as much as she secretly hoped someone in her family would be able to come and support her, she’d never want any of them to drop everything, for this of all things.

“Is Harry going with you?” Dolly questioned, casually.

“He can’t, he’s got rehearsals,” Stella mumbled, picking at a nail.

“Oh, for God’s sake, surely they’d understand-”

“Well no, because we can’t tell anyone.”

“Can’t you just say you’ve got an important doctor's appointment?”

“Isn’t it a bit obvious if we say we both need to go?”

“Well, maybe… but it’s not fair for you to have to deal with it all on your own. It’s scary.” Stella’s belly flipped again at the thought of the abortion, but she knew she could do it. It wasn’t an ideal situation, but she would be fine. She had to be.

“It is a little. But it’s supposed to be not too bad, I Googled it and apparently, the worst of the pain is over in a few hours, so I’ll be back at the hotel and in bed for the bad bits.”

“Okay,” Dolly didn’t sound as convinced. “What’s he thinking anyway, is he freaking out?”

“He’s… I haven’t seen him since he walked out on me yesterday.”

“What?!” Dolly sat up straight in her chair at this revelation. Her eyes bulged behind her glasses. “He walked out on you? Surely fucking not.”

“We had an argument and he walked out. Slammed the door and everything. I do kind of get it to be fair, I’ve basically given him the worst news imaginable.” Stella looked up at the lamp on the bedside table again. “I almost didn’t tell him because I thought he’d dump me.”

“Aw Stell, I don’t think he’s like that is he? He’d be an idiot to throw away three years together and he’d be a dick for doing it over a pregnancy scare, especially.” Dolly’s face was as serious as her tone. “I know I’d never forgive him.”

“Well, it’s not looking good now anyway. He’s off sulking somewhere.” Stella rolled her eyes. “I’ve gotta go, I’m knackered and just wanna sleep. I’ll text you.”

“Okay, sis. Look after yourself. Speak soon, keep me in the loop. I love you!”

“Love you, too,” Stella replied, sighing as she flopped back against the plush hotel pillows and dropped her phone onto the bedside table. She was too angry to text Harry first or to ask anyone where he was either. None of the boys knew what was going on so they hadn’t bothered her, which she took as a win. She glanced around the room, Harry’s suitcase lay open in front of the dressing table, the contents spilling out in a mess onto the floor, as usual. Was he still wearing the same pants from yesterday? How had he brushed his teeth? She wondered to herself but then reasoned that he could literally just ask Carrie, the tour manager, to get him anything he needed. He didn’t need her. He didn’t need anyone, really.

A heavy knock on the door shook Stella out of her thoughts with a firm jolt to her body. She sighed, tossing the duvet from her body and dragging her feet towards the direction of the sound. Forgoing the peephole, she cracked the door open, peering through. There Harry stood, in the same clothes he’d been in since the day before. In his arms was a huge brown paper bag, emblazoned with the familiar golden yellow arches they’d become way too accustomed to since landing in the US. Glancing down further, her eyes caught on the fluffy pink slippers that adorned his feet. She smirked at them before quickly covering by folding her lips into her mouth and narrowing her eyes at his face.

“You think a Maccy’s is gonna fix this?”

“We’re not broken, baby.” He said with his own smirk and a shake of his head. His eyes widened, “Sorry, poor choice of words.”

Stella rolled her eyes and opened the door fully, stepping to the side so he could waltz into their hotel room. Just watching him cross the threshold had her body sagging with contentedness. She’d been tensely on edge for far longer than what would be considered a healthy amount for a 19-year-old. But for a 19-year-old pregnant girlfriend of a boyband member? That scale may be marked differently.

“Where’d you get the slippers?” She said to the back of his head.

“Got fed up of my boots, so Lou let me borrow these of hers,” Harry mumbled, dropping the paper bag onto the dressing table before collapsing back on the bed with a huff and a deep sigh. She looked at him, sprawled out on the white duvet, his lanky legs hanging off the edge, arms splayed out either side of him, eyes shut, lips parted. Stella thought back to her conversation with Dolly and felt anger flow through her veins again. Moving to the sofa against the wall of their suite, she picked up a throw pillow before launching it at Harry’s head. He huffed in surprise, not able to get a word in before she did.

“You don’t get to come back in here like nothing’s changed, Harry.” She said, getting upset all over again. Harry clutched the pillow to his stomach, coming up to a sitting position. “You left me yesterday not knowing if you’d ever come back.”

“Obviously I was gonna come back, I just needed space, Stell.”

“Yeah? Well, I needed you.” Harry was silent, his mouth hung open, catching flies. “Why do I have to be the strong one? When you didn’t come to bed, I didn’t know whether it was over or not yesterday… thought I might even have Carrie coming up here telling me to pack my stuff because we were done.”

“Stella, I’d never do that to you. I… I can’t believe you’d even think I would end things like that.” He frowned hard, hand coming up to his chest. “Do you really think that’s who I am?”

“I don’t know, Harry. This is the point!” She threw her arms in the air. “You left me in the unknown.” They came back down to slap her hotel robe-covered sides. “That’s what fucking hurts.” She pointed to her heart as her voice faltered.

“Stella, you were laying into me, I didn’t know what else to do. I didn’t know what else to say!” Harry’s chest was heaving slightly, panic and anger mixing and rising. “Everything I say to you lately is wrong.”

“Don’t make me out to be some sort of psycho, Harry. I’m going through a lot right now.”

“Ugh, God there you go again!” He tossed the cushion back onto the sofa it came from, getting up to move away from her, arms flying in exasperation. He took a deep breath to try and calm himself before turning back with his hands on his hips. “I’m not trying to make you out as anything, I’m literally just trying to talk to you… I don’t know what to do to help you.”

“No, you don’t.” Stella laughed humourlessly, she looked down at her fidgeting feet. Her arms came to surround her tired torso. “I’ve had enough… let’s just get ready for bed.” Harry ran a hand over his face and moved towards his open suitcase, starting to unbutton his jeans. Stella wandered over to the ensuite to brush her teeth, speaking before she closed the door, “I think you should get the sofa bed out.”

Stella had been tossing and turning for over an hour, occasionally shifting up to glance at Harry on the sofa bed. He was on his side, a long leg thrown over the top of the spare blanket they’d found in the wardrobe. He always slept like a brick, no matter where he was forced to lay his head.

Dropping her head back onto the pillow, she wondered if they’d make it through this one. She didn’t want to lose what they had but she was too proud to accept the way he’d behaved about this whole situation. They were only young but their lives together would bring so much more turbulence and she didn’t want to have to be the one to guide him through it all the time, while he pranced about with everyone thinking he was perfection personified.

She knew what people said about him, how they talked about him, the words they used. They idolised him. They couldn’t understand why he’d chosen her. Of all the options he had. She’d mostly gotten over the insecurity of their younger years together, but every so often, it would start to swim around her head again and make her doubt herself again. And doubt them as a partnership.

She wanted to respond to people who pointed out her seemingly endless list of flaws and say, ‘Hey, he’s got plenty, too.’ Not that they’d believe her. He was still a man at the end of the day. And men did stupid shit. Like, walk out on their pregnant girlfriends for a day and a half, while they’re away from home and she’s about to get an abortion.

“Hey,” Stella jolted awake, she must have dozed off in her thoughts. Harry’s voice was soft and gentle, his light strokes on her back were even more so. She made no move to turn over, just nudged her head slightly to signal she was listening. “I can’t completely get out of rehearsals… but I’ll make sure I’m here when you get back. Okay? I’ll make sure of it, I’ll make some sort of excuse and I’ll be here.”

Harry watched her breathing, biting his bottom lip when she still didn’t move. “This is all my fault…” His voice wobbled over the words, making Stella’s heart sink. She finally rolled over to see him leaning over the bed on his arms, fists digging into the mattress. Leaning up on her elbow, she brought a hand to his cheek, she stroked with her thumb and shook her head.

“It’s not all your fault, Harry. It’s not.” Her hand slid down to his neck and to his bare shoulder, giving him a subtle pull to signal his welcome into the bed beside her. He quickly obliged before she could change her mind, pulling the duvet up to his chin, almost swallowing her head up completely in the heavy covering. “We’ve both just… made mistakes. It’ll all be over soon.” Her voice held a melancholy that encapsulated their complicated scenario completely. The sadness of the loss, the anguish of the toll it was taking on their relationship, the relief that there was a safe solution available to them.

“I should be comforting you, I don’t know why I couldn’t do that. I think, I just…” Harry’s eyes were cast down in thought. He really didn’t know why he reacted the way he did. He surely wasn’t proud of it, but he had to do it. Something inside him told him to run away for a bit until he could think straight.

“We’re scared, H. We’re just kids still, this is heavy… we’re working it all out.” She fiddled with the lining of the pillowcase that was under his head. 

“I don’t wanna lose you.” His voice was so quiet, dripping with sincerity. His hand itched to touch her, to grab her and pull her close, just to emphasise how much he meant it. But he didn’t want to overstep his welcome. “I hate when you’re angry with me.”

“Stop making me angry then.” Stella teased, her eyes flicking up for a second with a smirk before looking at her fiddling fingers again. Harry chuckled lightly.

“I’ll try.” Stella bit her lip, looking at his dark silhouette again, with hooded eyes begging her for sleep. She leaned forward to press a tiny peck to his lips, his arm secured her to him to place a successful three more to hers. She then turned in his hold for a few minutes, him hugging her so tight, their bodies slotting together naturally. She rested there for a few minutes, before nudging herself free to shift across the bed and snuggle down into her own side. Harry’s heart ached as he stared at the back of her head, so close but still so far. But he knew he needed to put his own feelings second, at least for now. He needed to take her lead on this one and respect her boundaries. Besides, she’d never steered him wrong thus far.

Stepping out of the back emergency exit of the family planning clinic, Paul, one of the band’s bodyguards and one of Harry’s closest friends and confidants, guided her to the haven of the tinted windowed vehicle waiting for her in the car park. The whole thing had felt like a Mission Impossible movie, except Stella was more of an Austin Powers than an Ethan Hunt. She had her most oversized cardigan on, along with Harry’s biggest, darkest sunglasses and one of Niall’s caps, hood up. She’d signed into the clinic with a pre-arranged dummy name that was called out into the waiting room. Luckily, there were only three other people waiting to be seen and they all looked too caught up in their own lives to care about her presence. Which made a really nice change. She’d almost forgotten the concept of people not giving a shit about her or what she was wearing or how she acted.

She was sure she wouldn’t be able to describe the way her body felt if she tried. The phrase ‘emotionally drained’ could never be more appropriately used. Harry had kept her up half the night with his tossing and turning and the other half she’d kept herself up with her own tossing and turning. Which was out of character for him, but he was so worried that she would be papped - or worse still, spotted by fans - that he was moving like a man possessed.

Halfway through the struggle of the night, she’d decided it best to try and calm him by drawing patterns on his bare back. Running her nails up and down, side to side and in circular shapes, softly letting her fingertips glide on their journey. She did it often because she knew he loved it, that night she felt he needed it. It calmed her too, feeling his warm, smooth skin on hers. Once she began hearing his quick breaths slow to a relaxed pace and then finally to a soft snore, she stopped and turned over as slow as she could so as not to disturb him again, falling asleep at last, but for an hour at most. When she woke up with a jolt, his side was empty, sheets crumpled and unmade as usual.

As Paul began to drive she took a deep breath, took her cap and glasses off and willed herself to feel something. To feel something for what she’d just done, but she didn’t. She’d done her best to block out the intrusive thoughts of believing that she was a murderer, purely to stay sane through all of this. But now she felt like a cold heartless monster, almost like she’d gone the completely opposite way. No one would ever know what she’d done, but she always would. Dolly always would. Harry always would. Now, Paul always would. She trusted Harry as much as he trusted her; as much as to not force her into signing an NDA. So she knew he’d never tell a soul, should things not work out between them in the end. But they were forever changed from this moment, well, from the moment she’d watched the little red lines show up on that plastic stick.

Don’t feel guilty, don’t feel guilty, don’t feel guilty, don’t-

“Ya alright there, sugar?” She jumped slightly at Paul’s deep Irish voice piping up from the front. She met his eyes in the rearview mirror and noted the kindness in the blue, he wasn’t judging her, she could sense that. All he wanted was for her to be okay. She nodded wordlessly, pulling her cardigan sleeves over her fingers and leaning to look out of the window again.

Paul scanned her card for her and allowed her to step through the hotel room door, which she allowed after multiple attempts at telling him that she could do it herself fell on deaf ears. He carried her handbag, too.

Harry jumped up from where he’d been led back on the bed, an arm propping his head up and his phone in hand, mindlessly scrolling as he tried not to lose his mind overthinking that his girlfriend might die from a noninvasive, tried and tested medical procedure. He’d been on the phone to Gemma since he’d gotten back to the room after telling the boys and the crew that he had a migraine. He couldn’t stop himself, he wanted to know what he needed to do to help Stella when she returned from her treatment. He felt a bit guilty about going against her wishes of not telling anyone, but he was unaware that Stella had already told Dolly.

He stopped a few feet in front of her, fidgeting from one foot to the other, fiddling with the side hems on his jeans. She looked so small and defeated. She smiled at him softly, trying to show gratitude that he was there, just like he’d promised he would be. Paul nodded once at Harry before handing Stella her bag and squeezing her shoulder, throwing a final salute before letting the door shut with a soft click.

“Well, it’s done,” Stella said, dropping her bag onto the sofa and perching herself on the end of the bed to slide her trainers off. Harry stayed put, watching her.

“How do you feel? Does it hurt yet?” He kept his voice gentle like he was approaching a wounded deer.

“No, I feel fine at the moment, only happened about an hour ago though and the doc said I should expect some pain around the two to four-hour mark.” Once both shoes were off, she stayed still, only fiddling with the threads pulling from her cardigan.

“Okay.” They sat in silence for a minute or two, before Harry finally worked himself up to move to a crouch in front of where she sat. He cupped her slightly chubby cheek, her eyes stayed downcast, lashes fluttering. His thumb stroked under her puffy eye and she brought her hand up to wrap her fingers around his wrist. “I’m really proud of you, Stell. You’re so brave, much braver than me.” She still didn’t look at him, her bottom lip tucking inwards as she shook her head slightly.

“I feel nothing, Harry.” She voiced, barely above a crackled whisper. “Why don’t I feel anything?” He frowned, shaking his head.

“I don’t know, babe. You said the doctors mentioned it would take a few hours to-” 

“No, I mean I don’t feel anything.” Her words were juxtaposed with the lone tear that began to trail down her face.

“Oh. That’s alright, you’re not a bad person if that’s what you’re thinking… you did what was right for you… and for us.” He tried not to make it about him again, he knew she definitely didn’t need that. “Like you said, it wasn’t really a baby, it was just a pocket of cells in your uterus.”

Stella huffed out a laugh, “You been Googling?”

“Nah, Gem told me.” Harry laughed softly, eyes flashing with realisation when Stella flinched, eyes finally meeting his. “Shit.” Stella couldn’t even find the energy to argue, she just rolled her eyes and moved her head to the side to press a kiss to his palm and his wrist that she still had hold of on her face.

“Don’t worry about it, H. I suppose it was harsh of me to say you couldn’t tell your family.” She knew she hadn’t handled this very well. Inside, she was grateful that he’d talked it out with someone. “What else did she say?” He stood up straight, both his knees clicking on the way. She puffed out another laugh as he stretched out exaggeratedly like an old man. 

“She said,” He held out his hand to help her up. “That I should take care of you. That I should rub your belly, if you’d like that?” Stella nodded. He led her up the bed by the hand, flipping the duvet over. He slid her cardigan off her shoulders, before flicking his head up and running his hands up her arms as she lifted them over her head. He then pulled her t-shirt off, leaving her in just her soft lounging bra. “She said that I should get you your favourite food, which is gonna be hard to do since you like Cadburys chocolate and roast dinners and we’re in America.” He flicked her nose with his finger and she swatted at him. Stella giggled along anyway, brushing a hand through his curls as he bent to pull her leggings down her legs. Once both of her feet were free, he pressed kisses back over her tummy, the tops of her breasts and her neck, as he made his way back up to stand. He bent to wrap his arms around her waist and bury his face in her neck, hugging her close. She, in turn, wound her arms around his neck, scratching his nape and inhaling his scent. He pulled back and turned her so she could climb into the bed.

Once the covers were over her, he jogged in small steps back round the bed, getting his t-shirt and jeans off in quick succession, something she knew him to do regularly, but in different circumstances. He slid into the bed and faced her, breathing a sigh of relief when she shuffled closer to him and tangled her legs with his. “Then she said,” he murmured, low and slow, tucking hair behind Stella’s ear. “To tell you how much I love you and that I support you.” He brought her closer still, trailing his fingers up and down the curve of her waist. “I’m sorry I was a dick.” He whispered.

“She told you to say that, too?”

“Nah, that one was all me.”

“Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t know when I’ll be… okay, again.” She looked down again, not meeting his eyes. His brows pulled in.

“That’s alright, Stell.”

“I mean… in a lot of ways.” She whispered, wanting him to get the message without her having to say it out loud. “Specifically… in that way.” She looked in his eyes briefly to solidify her point.

“Stella, you’ve just had an abortion, I’m not a horny monster.” To be truthful, both of them were feeling a little bit of PTSD from the experience, they needed to live a bit more of a wholesome lifestyle for a while. “Don’t worry about all that. We’ll just worry about what’s up here for a while,” He tapped her temple with his finger. “Instead of what’s down there.” She smiled, so relieved that he was being so understanding and mature. “Plus, distance makes the heart grow fonder. Once you’re ready to go, it’s gonna go OFF.” She knew it was too good to be true. He was still a 20-year-old man, she supposed. It still didn’t fail to make her a little excited, deep inside.

“You’re so good.” She said, playing with the ends of his hair that just kept getting longer.

“You are.” He responded, rubbing his nose with hers.

“Yeah… we’re good.”

~

If you'd like to read other pieces from this universe click here.

[7grandmel]

Rips of the week: 14/10/2024

Highman and go home youre drunk man and Cuckman

Season 1 All Featured on: GilvaSunner's Highest Quality Video Game Rips: Volume 3 & Knigra

Ripped by Big Purp

When discussing a channel such as SiIvaGunner, there are a lot of factors you can point toward in terms of what's kept it all so appealing. A lot of my posts, including the very one I made just last week on Week 4 ~ Wanting to Funk The Truth, cover how the channel serves as a creative outlets for budding musicians to express their passions and interests to an audience open to listen to anything. To some, the channel is a haven to find gems of unbelievable quality; to some, it's the channels ongoing narrative and slowly-bubbling lore that keeps them engaged; to others, the channel is a home to wonderfully surprising events and surprises. Most of these aspects are ones I think you can somewhat concretely point toward with clear examples to explain; Yet today, I'm not delving into any sort of deeper lore dissection, not writing thesis statements on auditory genius, or even trying to discern anything about who Big Purp as a ripper is. Rather, these three rips - Highman, go home youre drunk man, and Cuckman - together embody one of the most nebulous yet appealing boons of the early life of the SiIvaGunner channel: Its bizarre sense of unified community.

Of course, on the surface, that topic doesn't appear to be so strange, does it? Most *things* end up with a fanbase, after all, and it's not even something I've neglected to discuss on here before. A big part of the point in my post on ULTRA S+G was to detail how it felt as if it unified the goings-on on the channel, including all of the hype everyone in the community was feeling. And yet that connection is still something I feel is somewhat...intangible. The thing setting SiIvaGunner as a community apart from the rest is that, since the very beginning, it has almost exclusively existed within the confines of YouTube comments section; not a forum, not a chatroom, not a subreddit, but an ever-ongoing series of replies to the channel's rapidfire uploads. It wasn't until near the beginning of Season 2 that the unofficial fan Discord server opened, the fanbase's only true permanent "home" - and even then, even today, many have still neglected to really partake in it. No, for many years of SiIvaGunner's life, its community has primarily been that of once-an-hour comments from its reoccurring viewers, a live play-by-play commentary immortalized in but the smallest fragments at a time, where naught but the quickest, funniest, most concise voices got wide exposure. And while some names would pop up more frequently at the top than others, a notable example being Emm Bee Sea of A Balcony atop the Labyrinth of Lights fame, it was all still a big wild west, a community of naught but voices reacting to the goings-ons.

While that feeling still persists in some sense today, the unique appeal that the earliest years of SiIvaGunner had in particular was that this community, this gaggle of random people whose notoriety would basically reset from upload to upload, were almost guaranteed to be *just* like you. Today, a SiIvaGunner fan could be any number of things, joined at any point in the channel's life, for any of the many reasons that draw people in, such as the reasons from the first paragraph. But in Season 1 in particular, with the channel's identity still being messy and undecided, EVERYONE was just as curious as the next to figure out what the hell the channel was, and it felt as it everyone in turn was watching the same rips as you; even with the insane rate of uploads, it was as if everyone was on the same page about what was going on. Rips like Live and Ooooooooooooooh, and jokes like the Coconut Gun rap of CG Man HD Remastered Edition, all became overnight legends through just single rip appearances, while rips like Respect Your Elders (20X-Mix) played off of jokes that only the kind of person who would be a SiIvaGunner fan in 2016 would be aware of. The community's smaller size, compounded with the smaller amount of rips available, made it feel as if everyone's experience with the channel was sort of...universal.

In all earnest, you could probably draw some pretty clear parallels between the early days of SiIvaGunner and the early years of the internet as a whole. Back when everyone online knew about Chuck Norris memes, when cat memes were all the rage, when every celebrity scandal became ingrained into the culture of the web for the next months to come, and so fourth. But its when you combine this more tight-knit community, with Season 1's trademark spontaneous-ness - the Season that could give you anything from The Great Weed to Because I Love You to Can't Say Goodbye to Yesterday - as performed by Bob Dylan at the drop of a hat- when you end up with something truly unique to Season 1 of SiIvaGunner. In short, it's through this combination of factors that you end up with the magical trilogy of rips on feature today. Big Purp's NES Mega Man rips may, in isolation, divorced of context, appear to be nothing but low-effort shitposts; yet it was in being released at this specific time, to this specific kind of a community, that gave them a genuinely magical flavor.

To start is, of course, just the fact that they're all funny as shit, and all in the kind of way that Season 1 did best. With no adherence or admittance to quality control, with so little in the way of expectations for what the channel could do, you so often wound up with rips that just hit their punchline UNBELIEVABLY well. Pikmin Park would be my go-to perfect example of this, but if I ever had to provide a second example, it might well be Highman: Big Purp's rip of the Elec Man Stage theme from the first Mega Man game. Whilst not the most popular tune nor from the most popular game, Elec Man Stage has a really solid, pleasant melody and tune to it, a "classic" piece of old game music - yet three seconds into Highman, and the rug is completely pulled under you. The bass-only intro to the song remains unchanged, like the band setting the stage for the lead guitar, yet that lead instrument lands but a single note before holding on it, rising, ever rising in pitch - not long after rising to the point of becoming completely inaudible. You just clicked on this video to listen to cool Mega Man music, and before you can even register what's going on, the main melody just flies away, leaving the song as just a bassline and percussion. It's such a damn simple joke, and yet I distinctly remember how it caught me off guard way back in the day. "Oh, ohhhh, there he goes. Bye!" reads one 8-year old comment; "WAIT COME BACK I NEED YOUR WEAPON TO BEAT ICE GUY" reads another - despite being such an incredibly simple edit, I can't be alone in having been got good by it, right?!

And like, even though none of us then knew who could have possibly ripped it, when go home youre drunk man dropped just a few months later, I feel like we all KNEW it was a spiritual successor, a rip with a similar allure of "classic NES Mega Man music" immediately subverted by the funniest rugpull possible. Because again - it felt as if EVERYONE had already seen that old Elec Man rip: "After Elec man left us(into the stratosphere) Metal man's dependency on alcohol became incredibly apparent." reads one old comment of many. Indeed, go home youre drunk man is perhaps even more simple of a joke than even Highman, but I cannot overstate how fucking funny it is to click on an inconspicuous link of video game music only to be met with pitchshifting intentionally done to have every note sound as drunkard and discordant as possible. The call-and-response between the main melody and the five-note backing done at the very start of the track gets me every time, with just the mental imagery of the band calling over from one isle to the other and the other side being JUST as shitfaced as the first: again, remarkably simple as a bit, as with much of Season 1, but the sheer novelty kept it lodged in my mind for the weeks therafter.

Sure enough, again, even though Cuckman released with no credit attached, despite the plethora of other rips released on the channel; When I saw it drop in the subfeed, I could TELL that it was going to draw from the very same source. And wheras Highman was a rip about just...sending the lead melody up to the stratosphere, Cuckman instead does the opposite: repeating a section of the lead melody over and over again, with each loop lowering just slightly in pitch to where it goes from walking in place into a depressive spiral. That's funny in its own right - yet, just like with go home youre drunk man, our fellow commenters were forming their own little stories and narratives about Cut Man based on both this rip and the Big Purp rips that preceded it! "Cutman and Elecman went their separate ways after the Wily wars" reads one; "After Elec Man's ascendance, and Metal Man's fall into alcoholism, Cut Man became obsessed with trying to reach the center of the Earth." reads another; "Fun fact: after seeing how Elec Man ascended beyond understanding, cut man fell on the floor, and uh, died." reads a third, and this all just kept going! It's so hard to put into words just how much more fun it made all of these rips releasing in succession to see that your experience in seeing them all one after another was pretty much a universal experience - and it paired with the sheer absurdity of the jokes made each one plainly unforgettable.

I feel like this post has been spouting a lot of words to basically just say that...there was something truly unique about how early SiIvaGunner operated, that allowed every single rip to feel just a little bit magical. This perfect storm of a small fanbase, a lack of a true community gathering spot, and a channel driven on outputting as many surprising punchlines as possible, that led to each rip feeling like an *event* that EVERYONE was attending. It was thanks to this unified voice we all shared that events like The Reboot and its ARG as discussed back on I Saw a Brainwasher Today, or the bizarre Mr. Rental antics on Mr. Rental [B Side] ~ Out of Options, hit so closely: It felt, through the sense that we had ALL been on this journey together, like every shake-up and revelation to the channel's status quo was affecting us, collectively, personally.

And hey, that may all just be nostalgia for times long gone, it may be me projecting my experiences as someone with a hell of a lot more things to do nowadays compared to the giddy teenager following Season 1 like nothing else mattered...but damn if that investment didn't make Highman, go home youre drunk man and Cuckman funny as shit. Long after their release as one-off jokes, I would still return to their comments sections, just to see how new viewers were reacting to them, just to see what contributions people were making to this bizarro-Mega Man-lore being constructed off of one bored guy's shitpost contributions to the channel. And while I hardly know anything about Big Purp today; back then, it was as if I could hear the chuckles from the other side of the screen with each of these rips released.

[agentnico]

Blue Eye Samurai - Season 1 (2023) Review

Don't think I've ever seen so much human genitalia in animated form all in one go. Makes me wonder if the production team had a designated animator of genitals who literally just spent his time drawing penises for the show. If so, I hope it was Jonah Hill as he already proved in Superbad that he is the perfect artist for this subject.

Plot: Driven by a dream of revenge against those who made her an outcast in Edo-period Japan, a young warrior cuts a bloody path toward her destiny.

Netflix consistently hashes out so much content every week, that it is hard to keep up with any of it, as such many great projects get missed and are forever lost in the streamer's endless library void. Luckily Blue Eye Samurai didn't pass my scrolling and evidently has its fan base, as this is one of the quickest examples of the streaming giant announcing a season renewal after release. Yep, Blue Eye Samurai will be getting a second season which is amazing as this is a superb new series that if you haven't yet discovered then you are doing yourself a disservice and should amend that behaviour immediately and go watch it! Still need persuading? Alright, sit yourself down and allow me to gush about Blue Eye Samurai!...

It’s hard to overstate just how stunning Blue Eye Samurai is to look at. The series uses a mix of 2D and 3D animation styles to create landscapes and characters who seem only a few degrees removed from live-action, even as the form allows for combat on a scale that would cost several large fortunes to craft with flesh-and-blood actors. In fact, looking at the behind-the-scenes the team hired an actual martial arts choreographer to support in creating the combat sequences in real life with real people, and then the movements of those fights were transferred to animation and used in the final product. In one episode (seemingly inspired by the 1978 martial arts film Enter the Game of Death where Bruce Lee had to fight his way up to the tower to get to the last floor) the main samurai Mizu must defeat multiple bosses on each level of the season's big bad Fowler’s impregnable fortress home, and each separate battle is a work of art in itself. Honestly, the show just looks like a moving painting, with every frame absolutely jaw-dropping gorgeous. Even without dialogue or characterization, it would be completely engrossing.

Luckily, writers Michael Green and Amber Noizumi are as interested in the people at the center of these crazy fights as they are in the many improbable techniques Mizu uses against her opponents. Mizu is presented throughout as both supernatural and deeply human. She can handle any odds, and come back from every injury that would cripple or kill a normal person. But the series never loses sight of what a life wholly devoted to revenge has cost her, and the ways in which she has turned herself into every bit the monster that her countrymen believe her to be.

It is then also the exploration of how Mizu interacts with the other characters in this world. There's the disabled would-be apprentice Ringo (played warmly by Masi Oka), who has learned to navigate life despite his lumbering size and lack of hands. Mizu has no interest in a sidekick, but Ringo gradually wears her down, as if he’s a peaceful stream flowing against a rock over hundreds of years. There's also Taigen (Darren Barnett), a warrior chasing after Mizu to collect a debt of honour, yet due to this honour he ends up helping her as in his eyes only he has the right to kill her, no one else, so ends up attacking those that attempt to harm her. Brenda Song voices the princess Akemi, who is just as eager to escape the bonds of Edo society as Mizu is, but who uses very different methods to achieve that. We follow her journey through an intimate tour of the area brothels, which is where the aforementioned heaviness of nudity comes in. There is, in fact, a lot of naked flesh on display throughout the season. The series can be just as graphic in depicting sex as it is in violence, yet both avoid feeling gratuitous. And finally, there's Kenneth Branagh as this season's big bad Fowler, a despicable arms dealer who has no sense of morality or empathy and is willing to destroy anything standing in his path. He's a massive presence and seemingly the only one able to hold himself in a fight against Mizu, hence why Branagh's British snark yet heavy tone fits perfectly here.

The whole thing is an incredible, utterly badass example of how animation can be used to create worlds, characters, and adventure every bit as vivid as live-action if not more at times. Even though I would say there are a few areas of pacing issues, which withheld me from binging this season all in one go and instead had me taking regular break intervals throughout, this is still a stellar show and one that you can tell was created by a team of passionate filmmakers and artists. Blue Eye Samurai would never have had the impact it did had it been live-action - using animation as its storytelling medium elevated it to a masterpiece in my opinion. Kudos to everyone involved in such an amazing project and I can’t WAIT to see more!

Overall score: 8/10

[istumpysk]

Operation Stumpy Re-Read

TWOW: Tyrion II

Trumpets were blowing along the Skahazadhan, warhorns answering from the walls of Meereen. A ship was sinking in the river mouth, afire. Dead men and dragons were moving through the sky, whilst warships crashed and clashed on Slaver's Bay. Tyrion could not see them from here, but he could hear the sounds: the crash of hull against hull as ships slammed together, the deep-throated warhorns of the ironborn and queer high whistles of Qarth, the splintering of oars, the shouts and battle cries, the crash of axe on armor, sword on shield, all mingled with the shrieks of wounded men. Many of the ships were still far out in the bay, so the sounds they made seemed faint and far away, but he knew them all the same. The music of slaughter.

Kind of bizarre that the thinking man isn't speculating over the ironborn's participation.

+.+.+

The siege camps shimmered in a gaudy haze of rose and gold, but the famous stepped pyramids of Meereen hulked black against the glare. Something was moving atop one of them, he saw. A dragon, but which one? At this distance, it could as easily have been an eagle. A very big eagle.

An eagle! The dragon is an eagle!

Thrice that day she caught sight of Drogon. Once he was so far off that he might have been an eagle, slipping in and out of distant clouds, but Dany knew the look of him by now, even when he was no more than a speck. - Daenerys X, ADWD

Love when we draw that comparison.

Then a sudden gust of cold made his fur stand up, and the air thrilled to the sound of wings. As he lifted his eyes to the ice-white mountain heights above, a shadow plummeted out of the sky. A shrill scream split the air. He glimpsed blue-grey pinions spread wide, shutting out the sun . . . - Jon VII, ACOK

Excited to see where this might be going.

"Look," she said, pointing at the sky with her frog spear, "an eagle."

Bran lifted his head and saw it, its grey wings spread and still as it floated on the wind. He followed it with his eyes as it circled higher, wondering what it would be like to soar about the world so effortless. Better than climbing, even. He tried to reach the eagle, to leave his stupid crippled body and rise into the sky to join it, the way he joined with Summer. The greenseers could do it. I should be able to do it too. He tried and tried, until the eagle vanished in the golden haze of the afternoon. "It's gone," he said, disappointed.

"We'll see others," said Meera. "They live up here."

"I suppose." - Bran II, ASOS

+.+.+

A younger man might have found it all exhilarating. A stupider man might have thought it grand and glorious, right up to the moment when some arse-ugly Yunkish slave soldier with rings in his nipples planted an axe between his eyes. 

The second I read that I knew exactly where to look.

Whatever might befall us on the battlefield, remember, it has happened before, and to better men than you. I am an old man, an old knight, and I have seen more battles than most of you have years. Nothing is more terrible upon this earth, nothing more glorious, nothing more absurd. - Barristan I, TWOW

+.+.+

Tyrion found himself thinking back on his first battle. [...] When Tyrion had shouted out for Podrick Payne to help him with his armor, he'd found the boy asleep and snoring. Not the quickest lad I've ever known, but a decent squire in the end. I hope he found a better man to serve.

Did he ever.

+.+.+

Shae had called him "fearsome" when she saw him in his steel, mind you. How could I have been so blind, so deaf, so stupid? I should have known better than to do my thinking with my cock.

Can I just point out that in this chapter, there are multiple paragraphs dedicated to recalling Shae and the Green Fork battle, seemingly for no reason at all? I'm beyond annoyed.

+.+.+

The Second Sons were saddling their horses. They went about it calmly, unhurriedly, efficiently; it was nothing they had not done a hundred times before. [...] Snatch chewed his sourleaf, making japes and scratching at his balls with his hook hand. Something about his manner reminded Tyrion of Bronn. Ser Bronn of the Blackwater now, unless my sister's killed him. That might not be quite so simple as she thinks. 

Still not sure why this random serjeant is always being compared to Bronn.

That from a third man, drawn by their voices—a skinny stubble-jawed piece of work with teeth stained red from sourleaf. A serjeant, Tyrion knew, from the way the other two deferred to him. He had a hook where his right hand should have been. Bronn's meaner bastard shadow, or I'm Baelor the Beloved. - Tyrion XI, ADWD

The one thing we can be absolutely sure of is that the presence of sourleaf guarantees he'll die.

+.+.+

The Stranger had mounted his pale mare and was riding toward them with his sword in hand, but Tyrion Lannister did not care to meet with him again. Not now. Not yet. Not this day. What a fraud you are, Imp. You let a hundred guardsmen rape your wife, shot your father through the belly with a quarrel, twisted a golden chain around your lover's throat until her face turned black, yet somehow you still think that you deserve to live.

That's what I've been saying!

Clutching on to that "Not yet" like my life depends on it.

+.+.+

He sighed. "I would sell my sister for a cup of wine." "You would sell your sister for a cup of horse piss." That was so unexpected that it made him laugh aloud. "Is my taste for horse piss so well-known or have you met my sister?" "I only saw her that one time, when we jousted for the boy king. Groat thought she was beautiful." Groat was a stunted little lickspittle with a stupid name.

The amount of times I've read that Tyrion undergoes a transformation towards the end of ADWD, and reverts back to being a decent person ...

Bitch, where?

+.+.+

"Hold your tongue. I need to lace this jerkin up."

Tyrion did try, but it seemed to him that the sounds of slaughter were growing louder, and his tongue would not be held. 

+.+.+

"What he should have done was send all his horse at the eunuchs, full charge, before they got ten feet from their gates. Send the Cats at them from the left, us and the Windblown from the right, rip apart their flanks from both ends. Man to man, the Unsullied are no better or worse than any other spearmen. It's their discipline that makes them dangerous, but if they cannot form up into a spear wall…"

If the Yunkish commanders had any sense, they would send their horse thundering down on the eunuchs before they could form ranks, when they were most vulnerable. - Barristan I, TWOW

Somebody in Westeros is going to be smart enough to do this, but who?

+.+.+

"Lift your arms," said Penny. "There, that's better. Maybe you should command the Yunkishmen." "They use slave soldiers, why not slave commanders? That would ruin the contest, though. This is just a cyvasse game to the Wise Masters. We're the pieces." Tyrion canted his head to one side, considering. "They have that in common with my lord father, these slavers." "Your father? What do you mean?"

Yeah, cause you've never engaged in political maneuvering, and manipulation to gain power, all while disregarding those who are least fortunate in this world.

+.+.+

" [...] He wore crimson armor, with this huge greatcloak made of cloth-of-gold. A pair of golden lions on his shoulders, another on his helm. His stallion was magnificent. His lordship watched the whole battle from atop that horse and never got within a hundred yards of any foe. He never moved, never smiled, never broke a sweat, whilst thousands died below him. Picture me perched on a camp stool, gazing down upon a cyvasse board. We could almost be twins… if I had a horse, some crimson armor, and a greatcloak sewn from cloth-of-gold. He was taller too. I have more hair." Penny kissed him.

+.+.+

She moved so fast that he had no time to think. She darted in, quick as a bird, and pressed her lips to his. Just as quickly it was over. What was that for? he almost said, but he knew what it was for. Thank you, he might have said, but she might take that as leave to do it again. Child, I have no wish to hurt you, he could have tried, but Penny was no child, and his wishes would not blunt the cut. For the first time for longer than he cared to think, Tyrion Lannister was at a loss for words. She looks so young, he thought. A girl, that's all she is. A girl, and almost pretty if you can forget that she's a dwarf. Her hair was a warm brown, thick and curly, and her eyes were large and trusting. Too trusting.

[...]

"You're brave. Little people can be brave." My giant of Lannister, he heard. She is mocking me. He almost slapped her again. His head was pounding.

"I never meant to make you angry," Penny said "Forgive me. I'm frightened, is all." She touched his hand. Tyrion wrenched away from her. "I'm frightened." Those were the same words Shae had used. Her eyes were big as eggs, and I swallowed every bit of it. I knew what she was. I told Bronn to find a woman for me and he brought me Shae. His hands curled into fists, and Shae's face swam before him, grinning. Then the chain was tightening about her throat, the golden hands digging deep into her flesh as her own hands fluttered against his face with all the force of butterflies. If he'd had a chain to hand… if he'd had a crossbow, a dagger, anything, he would have… he might have… he…

Just when I thought Barristan Selmy was going to run away with the title of Most Hated POV.

+.+.+

"Something's happening." He went outside to discover what it was. Dragons. The green beast was circling above the bay, banking and turning as longships and galleys clashed and burned below him, but it was the white dragon the sellswords were gawking at. Three hundred yards away the Wicked Sister swung her arm, chunk-THUMP, and six fresh corpses went dancing through the sky. Up they rose, and up, and up. Then two burst into flame. The dragon caught one burning body just as it began to fall, crunching it between his jaws as pale fires ran across his teeth. White wings cracked against the morning air, and the beast began to climb again. The second corpse caromed off an outstretched claw and plunged straight down, to land amongst some Yunkish horsemen. Some of them caught fire too. One horse reared up and threw his rider. The others ran, trying to outrace the flames and fanning them instead. Tyrion Lannister could almost taste the panic as it rippled out across the camps.

That's excellent, let them become accustomed to the flavour of human flesh.

The only thing I care about right now is that dragon being over top of the ironborn. Sound the horn! What are we waiting for? Show me what the horn does.

+.+.+

"Lord Gorzhak sends his compliments to Captain Plumm and requests that he bring his company to the bay shore. Our ships are under attack." Your ships are sinking, burning, fleeing, thought Tyrion. Your ships are being taken, your men put to the sword. He was a Lannister of Casterly Rock, close by the Iron Islands; ironborn reavers were no strangers to their shores. Over the centuries they had burned Lannisport at least thrice and raided it two dozen times. Westermen knew what savagery the ironborn were capable of; these slavers were just learning.

Once again, is he not going to spare a moment to contemplate why the hell the ironborn have turned up at the other end of the world?

+.+.+

"Better to look a fool than to be one," the dwarf replied. "We are on the losing side." "The Halfman's right," said Jorah Mormont. "We do not want to be fighting for the slavers when Daenerys returns… and she will, make no mistake. Strike now and strike hard, and the queen will not forget it. Find her hostages and free them. And I will swear on the honor of my house and home that this was Brown Ben's plan from the beginning."

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Is that clueless Jorah Mormont pushing for the rescue of the queen's paramour?

Oh, this is perfect. This is wonderful. I love everything about this. It's totally going to happen too.

Who is going to regret this more, Jorah or Tyrion? Don't you love when actions have consequences.

+.+.+

By the time Plumm and his companions came galloping back from the camp of the Girl General, the white dragon had flown back to its lair above Meereen. The green still prowled, soaring in wide circles above the city and the bay on great green wings.

WHERE IS HORN.

+.+.+

Brown Ben Plumm wore plate and mail over boiled leather. The silk cloak flowing from his shoulders was his only concession to vanity: it rippled when he moved, the color changing from pale violet to deep purple. 

Seems to me like his cloak is turning colours.

+.+.+

"We are commanded to defend the Wicked Sister," Brown Ben informed them. The other men exchanged uneasy glances. No one seemed to want to speak until Ser Jorah asked, "On whose authority?" "The girl's. Ser Grandfather is making for the Harridan, but she's afraid he'll turn toward Wicked Sister next. The Ghost is already down. Marselen's freedmen broke the Long Lances like a rotten stick and dragged it over with chains. The girl figures Selmy means to bring down all the trebuchets."

Ghost better not be down, we need him.

Marselen sighting! Nothing else to report.

+.+.+

"It's what I'd do in his place," Ser Jorah said. "Only I would have done it sooner."

I forgot about Jorah and Barristan's little hate-filled rivalry.

Maybe in the future they can bond over their shared hatred for Tyrion, Daario, and Victarion. It's so dysfunctional, I love it.

+.+.+

"Why is the girl still giving orders?" Inkpots sounded baffled. "Dawn has come and gone. Can she not see the sun? She is behaving as if she were still the supreme commander." "If you were her and knew that Pudding Face were about to assume command, you might keep giving orders too," said Mormont. "One is no better than the other," Kasporio insisted. "True," said Tyrion, "but Malazza has the nicer teats."

Yunkai has too many cooks in the kitchen, which is partly why this is going so poorly.

Though it seems like we're having a discussion about an entirely unrelated boy and girl.

+.+.+

"Morghar?" Kasporio frowned. "No, Gorzhak commands today." "Gorzhak zo Eraz lies slain, cut down by Pentoshi treachery. The turncloak who names himself the Prince of Tatters shall die screaming for this infamy, the noble Morghar swears." Brown Ben scratched at his beard. "The Windblown have gone over, have they?" he said, in a tone of mild interest.

Tyrion chortled. "And we've traded Pudding Face for the Drunken Conquerer. It's a wonder he was able to crawl out of the flagon long enough to give a halfway-sensible command." The Yunkishman glared at the dwarf. "Hold your tongue, you verminous little—"

listen.

+.+.+

"Collars can be removed. I demand that the dwarf be surrended for punishment at once." "That seems harsh. Jorah, what do you think?" "This." Mormont's longsword was in his hand. As the rider turned, Ser Jorah thrust it through his throat. The point came out the back of the Yunkishman's neck, red and wet. Blood bubbled from his lips and down his chin. The man took two wobbly steps and fell across the cyvasse board, scattering the wooden armies everywhere. He twitched a few more times, grasping the blade of Mormont's sword with one hand as the other clawed feebly at the overturned table. Only then did the Yunkishman seem to realize he was dead. He lay facedown on the carpet in a welter of red blood and oily black roses. Ser Jorah wrenched his sword free of the dead man's neck. Blood ran down its fullers. The white cyvasse dragon ended up at Tyrion's feet. He scooped it off the carpet and wiped it on his sleeve, but some of the Yunkish blood had collected in the fine grooves of the carving, so the pale wood seemed veined with red.

A lot of people use this as evidence for Tyrion having a dragon. Lmao

I certainly see Viserion foreshadowing here, but it has nothing to do with Tyrion riding him.

+.+.+

"All hail our beloved queen, Daenerys." Be she alive or be she dead. He tossed the bloody dragon in the air, caught it, grinned. "We have always been the queen's men," announced Brown Ben Plumm. "Rejoining the Yunkai'i was just a plot." "And what a clever ploy it was." Tyrion gave the dead man a shove with his boot. "If that breastplate fits, I want it."

Do you have any idea how stupid you have to be to reinstate the Second Sons? To align yourself with Tyrion Lannister? To accept Jorah Mormont back?

About as stupid as Daenerys.

Final thoughts:

49 down, 0 to go.

Next chapter: Arianne I

-> return to menu <-

[finniestoncrane]

Hi hi Finnie!! Congrats on reaching 1k! I've been going back n forth if i should request this because,,, nervessss, but can I pleasse request no.9 ever fallen in love with someone?

I'm 5'3, have blonde buzzed hair and a curvy, chubby body. I'm afab genderfluid & bi so i joke my gender and sexuality is just everything/everything XD

I LOOOVE making really bad jokes, like dad jokes, puns, dirty jokes, and some of my favourite jokes dont have spoken punchlines so i stare at people with a goofy face until they get it :D I love listening to other people rant about their passions and learning new things, even if i dont fully get it, and enjoy being able to do the same back.

I'm very creative so most of my hobbies are with my hands, from drawing, to sewing, resin and woodwork, i like to try a bit of everything. I really enjoy seeing a finished product that i made on my own! I also like reading and playing dnd so I'm really good at crafting strategies or creative ways around problems in the game (and describing how i get to defeat my enemies, because im squeamish with real blood, but i love some good ol fictional gore.)

I'm very outgoing and bubbly, and i dislike being formal with people. I'd much rather be my casual and crude self, and skip any awkwardness. I am naturally very loud so i can have some issues around quieter people but i try my best to adjust so I'm not cutting them off. I also have a very dirty mind and am a very physically affectionate person, I'm always flirting with, hugging someone, linking arms, or holding hands, whether were platonic or romantic!

Asfghgjfla thank you for letting me ramble and for doing all of these for us!!

🎀 No.9: Ever Fallen In Love With Someone 🎀

tell me a little bit about yourself and i'll give you a rogue pairing a/n: ok i am bestowing upon you what i consider to be the greatest gift because truly you just suit him so well 💚 1k milestone info! 🔞minors dni🔞 • kofi • tag: finnie1k

ok this is my own headcanon but it's practically legit canon in my mind by this point, but thick bodies are his favourite type of body so checkmark there

also, exceptional gender and sexuality choice. i feel like yeah he's a cis bisexual boy, but also i don't think he cares enough to put any sort of label on it, and he has more important things to be concerned about, so he'll identify as whatever the fuck makes you leave him alone and stop questioning him quickest

look i'm not pulling out my files on his dialogue in the games, but trust me when i say that this is the dorkiest dweeb in the universe and his ability to make the dumbest jokes and be so satisfied with himself knows no bounds

good about the listening thing, because you won't be allowed to get a word in edgeways. and besides, he's the best, so he deserves everyone's attention at all times while he talks about whatever the hell he pleases (but he might also let you tell him about something you love if he's too tired to talk)

yeah, stinky boy is down there in his little workshop using his little raccoon paws to get up to all sorts of nonsense so he'd be super pleased to have someone with some capabilities in that kind of area to help him with some projects

and being able to be strategic and creative with problem solving? sounds like someone just got promoted to riddler apprentice and chief "evil plan" coordinator

outgoing and bubbly are probably going to grate on him but god knows he needs someone to be the face of his operation, and it'd be good for him to have a brightness in his life

also it's fine to be loud because you need to be able to cut through either the sound of his welding or yelling or ranting

and truly very much so he needs physical attention and affection, which i'm sure he'd warm to eventually if you just keep at it. relentlessly, even if he's pretending to hate it and it's making him grumpy

[armybratz123]

Lucy Caddel (my twst Yuu)

Lucy Caddel ( pronounced cad-dell) is my OC I made as Yuu. She may be magicless, but never underestimate her. Lucy has spent her whole life dealing with a bad hand the universe had given her, so life at NRC is no different, unlike her life in her home world, this one actually gets better (much to Lucy’s confusion and slight fear).

Prefers to wear her very long hair in a braid. Easiest and quickest style for her to accomplish, plus it helps her to manipulate in other styles when needed. Such as the braided bun for gym. But aside from the braid, Lucy is not good at doing her own hair. It's either in a braid, or down, if you want something more intricate, your going to have to do it for her.

She is very short and is aware and self-conscious over it, wears three inch heels to try and giver a boost. Has worn heels so much for so long, that they are natural for her at this point. Everyone can’t help but think that Lucy has to have some form of magic, the way she moves in her heels are not natural, nor should it be possible. Vol is actually impressed with Lucy’s skill in heels (now if only he can get her to fix her hair and freely showcase her eyes). Physical Education is the only class she doesn't wear heels, Vargas forced her to wear tennis shoes.

Even though Lucy and Grim have a rocky start, first few days they struggle to try and live together in cohesion. But once the two find common ground, and live through multiple trials and overblots together, the two are nearly inseparable.

As shown in the picture above, Lucy fears the broom and flight lessons in Physical Education with Coach Vargas, but after some (note, alot) of struggle, Vargas assigned her third year to help. After a week or so, Lucy quickly becomes the best flier Night Raven College has ever seen. Which will be show cased a lot in the Savanclaw arc with the Spelldrive tournament.

Ignore the Fairy Gala dress. It’s okay, but I plan on redrawing it in the future. Heartslabyul uniform is during the unbirthday tea party. I noticed that Grim’s bow changed to match the dorm’s uniform, so I did the same for Lucy.

As I stated above, I am going to redraw the Fairy Gala dress, I have a couple of ideas, but we'll see where that goes. I've been thinking of drawing her a masquerade outfit in celebration of the new masquerade arc (although it hasn't come out in English yet), draw a set of casual clothes and maybe a pajama set, and finally, but not least, a ramshackle uniform.

Although, I drew Lucy a Heartslabyul uniform because it's in the story, but if you want to see her in other uniforms as well, go ahead and request for it! I'd be happy to draw it if you want, along with Yuu with other characters (be warned requests like that will take much longer to complete). I'm also opened to questions about Lucy if you have any.

[otakween]

Digimon Adventure (Manga) - Vol. 1

This is the manga (or manhua) adaptation of the original Digimon Adventure anime. I got my copy from the library and you can borrow it for free on Archive.org!

Manga adaptations of anime are typically cheap money grabs that just copy-paste from the anime, removing some of the soul of the original along the way. As such, I'm not expecting much from this.

Notes:

Ch. 1

-You can almost always tell when a manga isn't drawn by a Japanese artist, it's just a certain vibe (I know this is technically a manhua). That being said, the art is competent enough. Yuen Wong seems to struggle most when it comes to faces. A lot of the faces look really janky and off model for both the digimon and the digi-destined. The only other thing that's kind of off is that the text boxes are very heavily lined and take up a lot more space than I'm used to.

-When Sora is drawn in chibi-mode she has the straps of her hat up like a rabbit. At first the silhouette was so unfamiliar that I had no idea who it was lol.

-So they covered two episodes in one chapter (up until the Shellmon battle). Let's see if the pace stays that way...

Ch. 2

-This definitely has a similar vibe to most manga adapted from anime that I've read. I wonder if it will diverge from the original material at any point, too soon to judge.

-Tai says to Agumon "I'll do anything but a teeth buffing" and I have nooo idea what that means? (Is he saying "don't eat me?") Also in chapter one Izzy said "baby blue, how emasculating!" when talking about the digivice. I don't think Koushiro would ever say that tbh. I feel like spotting these weird dialogue choices is going to be the most entertaining part about reading this.

Ch. 3

-I guess we're now going at a pace of one episode per chapter, which is fine. Somehow the content still seems a little condensed with a lot of the emotional beats cut out. I feel like the setting changes every two seconds which is giving me whiplash.

-Some weird quirks: the digi-destined call their digimon by their rookie names, even when they're in champion form. Also, the artist really really likes drawing smiley faces as stand-ins for the actual characters. That's like a step below chibification lol

-I think manga like this is perfect for if you wanted to watch Digimon Adventure 02, but you didn't want to catch up on a 50+ episode anime. It's a lot faster to read than to watch. (Although probably not as satisfying overall).

Ch. 4

-More cheesy dialogue. Izzy says "don't mess with an elite hacker" to Tai lol. Koushiro is way more likeable in the original Japanese because localizations loved to make nerds insufferable in the 90s.

-It's funny, I've never thought of Tentomon as robot-like, but in this chapter he said his parts were "short circuiting" and I was like "oh yeahhh...I guess he does have metallic features"

-Did we really need that close-up crotch shot of Andromon?

-You would think that the plot point of there being editable code laying around in random areas of the digital world would have come up again, but I can't remember another time it was really used to the kids' advantage.

Ch. 5

-This panel made me laugh:

(something about this phrasing and the expressionless chibis is so funny).

-And then Izzy never manually triggered a digivolution again...for some reason? (I feel like this was definitely explained in the anime, but I can't remember what they said).

-They didn't censor the poop this time! As usual, you can get away with more in print than you can on the screen B)

-They confirm that you can repel Numemon with sunlight...and then immediately the kids get attacked by more Numemon in broad daylight. Quickest continuity error ever!

-Another chuckle worthy moment:

Ch. 6

-Okay, but this one had me die laughing. Just a really good dad joke:

-Going from Adventure 02 back to the early Adventure days the stakes really do feel lower. No existential conundrums or human/humanoid villains to contend with. Just rampaging digis that can be easily cured.

Ch. 7

-Maybe it's just a translation thing, but sometimes the digimon act like there's one of each digimon species. Like Gomamon says "Unimon's a nice guy!" as if there's one Unimon in the world. Pretty confusing for kids. I wish mon series would just use names (they do sometimes, but it's not the status quo).

Yep, that was pretty generic. I wish they had thrown some more personality in there to make this a unique experience. I would have loved to read some final thoughts from the mangaka or to have gotten an omake of some sort. Ohhh welll...

[scummy-writes]

Oh, what a fun idea! I'll tag @solomons-poison, @fairy-marshmallow,@kazesuke, @tentari, @harajuku-cookie, @alby-rei, @drewadoodle-dandy, @bluemingrosa, @crystal13unny annnnnnd anyone else who would like to do it!

It's fun reading your answers, mo, haha! I'll put mine under a cut too.

What was your first impression of the game? Is this the first Cybird game you've ever played? I think I remember talking to Honey about the game, when we saw previews Cybird was dropping before it came out. We talked about how Dazai looked like an emo/au version of Shingen, and talked about how we'd play it. And no! Ikerev was my first one, surprisingly. I didn't play it much, I wasn't too interested in the plot.

Who was the character you liked most in the beginning, and is he still your fave? Leo was the first fave, even when I was wanting to punch him multiple times while reading his route. Now, he's lower on the list. I still like him, but he's not top 5....

How you picked your first route, and whose route was it? Was your favorite suitor available when you first started playing? Leo, because I really like the IRL Leonardo... When I was younger I had a lot of Da Vinci books and even got a plush toy of him. He inspired me to draw and paint!

An unavailable route you're looking forward to: Charles!

A character you thought would be different than how he is: Vlad... I had heard rumors about a terrible 're-education' scene he has a hand in, and after gearing myself up towards that, and the awful things he was doing in other's routes, I was expecting.......a lot more unhingedness...and instead he's just....???????? I like him, just way different than I thought.

Is there a suitor who you used to dislike, but eventually changed your opinion about? Arthur. I like him now though.

Do you remember your first story event? Uhhhuhuhuhhhh I don't remember the very first event, maybe the dancing with danger one? I think thats the first one they did? I played the game day 1 so!

Have you ever spent money on the game? Have you tried the free diamonds offers? *burns my billing statements from the past few years* Tapjoys are nice. During my first call center job, it was so easy racking up dia from tapjoys. But now it's more difficult. I still do them, but not as often.

Do you have a favorite avatar item? Is it a plushie or maybe a unique hairstyle? The one I use the most is the long gray ponytail from Jean's avatar check. It matches my Oc's hair to a T! Otherwise, I love the Isaac baby plush. Before the 'ikevampsexy' thing on twitter, I had it holding a martini glass...

Have you ever bought merch of your favorite ikevamp character? I have.............too much.....................................

Have you ever mistakingly spent your stamina not in the story event? 🥹

What's the luckiest you've ever been when it comes to the gacha? What about your most unlucky memory? hilariously, I have been more lucky in the (now discontinued) KR version of ikevamp. I got so many special cards and I was so happy..... For eng, eng wants me to suffer. I barely get any of the isaac cards I want! I think the luckiest I got was his snowfall one....there's so many I don't have....

The slowliest you've ever completed a route vs the quickest: probably Sebastan. I don't think I've fully read it, but I did complete it by spamming tickets during a collection event...

Do you use your 5 free chapter tickets daily? Not anymore, but I need to...

A moment in a route that made you cry and a moment in a route that made you laugh: I don't think any of them have made me cry. They've made me feel bad for a lot of the characters, but no crying yet. I always laugh when thinking of the residents pretending a fire was happening to get mc out of her room....they are so, so, stoopid....

Who is your favorite pureblood vampire? Comte!

Do you have a favorite CG? What about a favorite card? I love Isaac's ending cg where him and mc are at the university. That whole ending is the cutest... Favorite card? The illusive Isaac halloween card....him saying 'rawr'....pls......i need it....sob

Any famous historical figures you wished were in ikevamp? Hm.... Not off the top of my head. Would it be cool to have like...Poe in there? Monet? Others? Sure! But I don't know if I'd actually want them in there...

What card is currently on your home screen in the game? Isaac's wedding card from the recent wedding event!!!!!!!!!!!! He looks like a whore!!!!!!!!

What do you think about the suitors' pets? Which one is your favorite? They're all so cute 🥹 I like them all except for the birds Thank you for the fun game, mo!

𝟒 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐈𝐤𝐞𝐯𝐚𝐦𝐩 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞!

Ikevamp EN launched on the 1st of July 2019 - maybe you were there since day one, or maybe you've only started playing recently: here's a little game to celebrate! You simply answer the questions and (optionally) tag the people whose answers you'd love to see next! Happy 4th anniversary to all ikevamp players! 🎉🎉🎉

*~if you feel like sharing, you can find the days in the mansion counter in your profile in the game and add it to your questions ~* Also, while reading other people's answers, mind that there might be spoilers!

What was your first impression of the game? Is this the first Cybird game you've ever played?

Who was the character you liked most in the beginning, and is he still your fave?

How you picked your first route, and whose route was it? Was your favorite suitor available when you first started playing?

An unavailable route you're looking forward to:

A character you thought would be different than how he is:

Is there a suitor who you used to dislike, but eventually changed your opinion about?

Do you remember your first story event?

Have you ever spent money on the game? Have you tried the free diamonds offers?

Do you have a favorite avatar item? Is it a plushie or maybe a unique hairstyle?

Have you ever bought merch of your favorite ikevamp character?

Have you ever mistakingly spent your stamina not in the story event?

What's the luckiest you've ever been when it comes to the gacha? What about your most unlucky memory?

The slowliest you've ever completed a route vs the quickest:

Do you use your 5 free chapter tickets daily?

A moment in a route that made you cry and a moment in a route that made you laugh:

Who is your favorite pureblood vampire?

Do you have a favorite CG? What about a favorite card?

Any famous historical figures you wished were in ikevamp?

What card is currently on your home screen in the game?

What do you think about the suitors' pets? Which one is your favorite?

Have fun answering! 💕

[fitzs-trained-monkey]

Chapter Thirty-Six: How I Did It - By Jack The Ripper

Rated PG-13: For dark themes and language

Masterlist

~We'll never get free Lamb to the slaughter What you gon' do When there's blood in the water? The price of your greed Is your son and your daughter What you gon' do When there's blood in the water?

Beg me for mercy Admit you were toxic You poisoned me just for Another dollar in your pocket Now I am the violence I am the sickness Won't accept your silence Beg me for forgiveness~

"He's here."

Crossing the Event-Horizon

That's what that's called. I've always thought that's the most beautiful way of putting it. The words have a certain ring to them.

Crossing the Event-Horizon

It means crossing the point of no return. That itself - the point of no return - could mean a lot of things. It could mean the beginning. It could mean the end. It could mean the infinite. It could mean life. It could mean death. It could mean war, peace, happiness, sadness, or anything in between.

But it means one thing for sure.

Crossing the Event-Horizon means there's no going back.

If I had to identify a beginning to the end of my story, then I think that little red dot on the map of time is where I'd stick my proverbial pin. That one little sentence, those two little words.

Yes, it was that moment, I think.

That was when it all started to go wrong.

"Felix is here," I said quietly, "He's outside."

I didn't know what I was going to do to get my revenge from that point. All I knew was, in order to kill Felix, I would need to get to him. And that meant getting away from Jack. Getting away from the son of the devil is something certainly easier said than done.

I would have to do it in a manner which would compel him and the Winchesters to come 'save me'. Of course, I could just knock Jack out and ditch him, but then I would have no back-up if things with Felix went sour. Now, if there was one thing I had learned in the five years leading up to my presence in that lighthouse, it was redundancy. It never hurts to have a safety net. Mine just happened to be a Nephilim.

"You remembered to lock the door, right?" Jack joked. I huffed a laugh. "We're safe in here. Don't worry, Marty. I'll protect you."

Isaac shook his head. "Felix has hostages. Two of 'em." He informed me.

"It's not me I'm worried about," I said to Jack, "This is a hostage situation."

The Nephilim's expression darkened and Isaac rolled his eyes.

"Personally, I say we go on the offensive. I mean, ya boyfriend here has more than enough juice to disintegrate seven dudes, right? Just waltz out there like we own the place, boom, clap, poof, TA-DA!"

"Ya know, that's actually not that bad of a plan," I said, nodding. I relayed the message to Jack who nodded.

"I could do it." He seemed confident.

"Felix brought six helpers. Have you ever dusted that many guys before?" I asked.

"I have, yes. Many more, in fact."

Well, that was... thoroughly disturbing. He seemed so calm about it. As if anyone who stood against him was nothing more than an obstacle. That could be me one day. That could be me tomorrow.

"Alright then, lead the way," I said, smirking.

Is it bad that I hoped something would happen to Jack? Nothing deadly, of course. Just something that would stop him from using his powers to take my revenge for me. Felix was mine. I needed to be the one to kill him. If Jack did it then what had been the point of it all? So, was it bad of me to hope that the quickest, cleanest solution wouldn't be the one that played out?

Was that wrong?

Did that make me evil?

Did I care if it did?

"Everything's going to be fine, Marty. You'll see." And Jack smiled at me softly and I wondered how long that would last.

I found myself standing beside him at the door to the lighthouse. My blood was boiling for a fight because this was it. Felix was on the other side of that door and in a few hours, I would be free, one way or another. Jack turned the handle.

Across the Event-Horizon.

A vampire, a ghost, and a Nephilim stepped out into the muggy night air. It sounds like the beginning of a bad joke, but it was more the beginning of a new era, at least for me. I stayed mostly hidden beside Jack, maintaining my air of powerlessness. Isaac stepped into place at the Nephilim's other side to match. I could feel the heat of Felix's presence bleeding through the space between us. He carried with him the foul stench of burning tar and just his scent made me want to wrinkle my nose.

He stood about ten feet away from Isaac, Jack, and me, flanked by six other vampires. There was no army, not that I had expected there to be - that wasn't how Felix worked. He didn't need an army, he'd brought two hostages. Two humans knelt on the ground in front of each of Felix's lackeys, poised to die.

Felix's lips stretched into something that approximated a smile but his little ruse was transparent. I could see the hate simmering in his eyes.

"This little game of ours has been fun but a score still stands to be settled and its resolution, I do believe, is long overdue. There is no place left for you to run, child. Are you finally ready to face judgment for your crimes, Martina?" He said. A smile spread across my face to match his.

"Are you?" I challenged, leaving all human emotion out of my voice. I had been so afraid of him before, but that fear was in the past. I had come to witness true power, I had seen it up close and Felix Ashton Monroe was nothing in comparison. I wasn't afraid of him anymore.

"I suppose you'll just have to find that out," He said. "Now, I've just had a rather unsavory chat with one Samuel Winchester. Barbarians those boys are - him and his brother. I do so hope you'll remember the manners I taught you and come along like a civilized being."

"Ready when you are," Isaac reported. His Darth Vader figure was tucked safely in my boot and I counted the fact that Felix didn't know about him as one of the few advantages I had. Both Isaac and I knew that in order to keep that advantage my brother would have to suffer through being dragged behind a car via his attachment to the figure to prevent Felix from noticing his presence. We had decided a long time ago that I wouldn't face Felix alone. Isaac had protested against us facing him at all.

It was ironic, really. He was the ghost, yet out of the two of us, I was the vengeful one. See, Isaac had never sought revenge against Felix. The only person Isaac wanted vengeance against was himself. He sought punishment for his failure to keep me safe, to keep any of us safe. I suppose he got his wish. Ever since that night, Isaac remained trapped on earth with what was less of a mission and more of a duty. To keep me alive. If one looked at it properly, that was another advantage. Isaac had been formidable when he was alive, but as a vengeful spirit and with a threat on my life to power him up, Isaac was alarmingly deadly.

I didn't need to send him a discreet nod to acknowledge his words. The two of us had been preparing for this moment for five years. We knew our roles. We knew what we had to do.

"Marty isn't going anywhere with you," Jack cut in, his voice firm.

"You're Jack Kline I presume," Felix said in his usual drawling tone. His voice too reminded me of tar with the way it oozed lazily around his words. Everything about him was so clean and sharp yet somehow it was all horrifically revolting.

"I am, yes." Jack nodded. He was trying to sound confident and authoritative, mimicking Sam or Dean or Castiel. But he wasn't like them, it wasn't in his nature. Jack was too soft. Felix regarded him with a smirk, studying the boy in a calculating manner as if Jack were merely a rare antiquity he was appraising in an effort to determine its value.

"The boy born to rule..." He hummed, drawing out the words almost reverently. "Yer smaller than the rumors describe ye to be."

"So are you," Jack replied, standing up straighter and lifting his chin confidently.

"Oh, I'm afraid not." That slime ball cracked a smile. "I'm much too careful to allow for rumors of my physical appearance to drift beyond my reach."

"Really?" Jack challenged. "Because it seems like Martina found us. She told us everything about you."

Felix just laughed like he was talking to something as insignificant as a flea.

"Do ye never listen, young one? I said I don't allow rumors to drift beyond my reach. Seeing as Martina is standing directly ahead of me, I'd say she is well within my grasp. That which is mine does not escape me, laddie. She knows that better than anyone," Felix said.

"If you're so careful, then why come here yourself?" Jack asked, struggling to remain impassive. He didn't really have a poker face.

"Why, because unlike an amateur I actually quite enjoy getting my hands dirty every now and again. Especially with a vendetta this personal. Isn't that right, Martina?" Felix taunted. "Will you be coming willingly or not?"

"I said you can't have her," The half-angel forcefully growled. Jack pushed me behind him, shielding me from my creator's gaze.

"Is that so? I was unaware you had a choice in the matter," Felix accosted, seemingly amused. "Were your circumstances not clearly implicit in the situation? No? Very well! If you insist against using so much as a modicum of intelligence, I suppose I'll have to explain this situation to you. See, these dirty, pathetic excuses for intelligent life forms you see trembling before you are called humans, dear boy. I hear you're quite fond of them, and today they are playing the role which we in the criminal world usually refer to as the hostage. Now, their miserable little lives are in your hands, Jack. I am a man of my word thus I will gladly release them, alive and well, upon the prompt return of my property. However, I will not hesitate to rip them both to shreds right in front of you if I don't get my way. Do you understand that , boy?"

Jack didn't respond. He appeared torn between protecting me and saving the lives of the hostages.

"Good," Felix droned, "Now, are you ready to leave, Martina dear?"

" You don't get to speak to her ," Jack snarled. His teeth snapped together with an audible click as he threw his arm out in front of me, not quite ready to give up. Felix rolled his eyes.

"Must we really do this the hard way?" He asked, boredom evident in his tone.

"Yes."

Felix tilted his head and his gaze flicked to me. I could see a hint of amusement in his expression.

"Tell me, lassie. Have you kissed him yet?" He chuckled. Then, abruptly, his expression darkened. "Or is he just that stupid? "

"Who says I did anything?" I replied evenly. Felix huffed, rolling his eyes.

"So you have?" He turned his attention to Jack who just seemed confused. "Did you enjoy it, me boy? If you'll recall, I did wish you a very exciting first, did I not?"

"Marty, what's he talking about?" Jack asked, doubt wavering in his voice. I didn't answer him. Felix was taking a chisel to the wall I'd built in that boy's head. Not causing enough damage to send it crumbling, but planting enough doubt for it to hurt even worse when it did.

"Ah, my devious little Martina," Felix sighed, shaking his head dramatically. "You're as predictable as you are appallingly cruel."

"Guess I learned from the best," I hissed, glaring at him.

"Does that mean you'll be sensible?" He asked, raising a brow.

"You're not taking her!" My angel boy yelled. "She's mine. " A shock ran through my bones as Jack's powers ignited and his metaphysical wings spread out in front of me in a terrifying reminder of what he truly was.

Felix didn't flinch. Instead, he chuckled.

"That's cute," He said, gesturing to Jack's massive wings. Then, he straightened the cuffs of his suit and sighed. From out of his pocket he retrieved a box of matches, pulling one out and striking it. He tossed the match lazily in front of him, the reflection of its tiny flame dancing in his eyes.

The match hit the sand and flickering orange flames erupted from where it landed. The fire spread outward in a ring that encompassed the entire lighthouse, trapping me, Jack, and Isaac inside.

Jack hissed through his teeth as he watched the flames die down. They were low enough to pass easily through, so how were they supposed to contain us?

"In case ye can't tell, that there is holy fire," Felix informed, tucking the matches back in his pocket. "Any angel who finds themselves encircled by holy fire is rendered powerless, and if one tries to step through those flames, one will be instantly vaporized." He looked up again, unimpressed. "Don't get smart with me, boy . I am thousands of years your senior. I'll do with that disgusting whore whatever I damn please."

"No, you won't !"Jack yelled. His wings flared out and a blazing golden light poured from him like molten metal. The air buzzed with a divine power that burned my skin from standing so close. He was like sunlight, and it burned. I cowered away but watched in awe as Jack's veins lit beneath his skin as if gold were pumping through them instead of blood. Because that's what Jack Kline was. He was power. With a sudden ferocity, the flames leaped up, roaring around his body in an effort to keep him trapped inside. But Jack did the impossible and stepped beyond the ring with a cry of effort.

Felix did not cower away as his underlings did; he merely tilted his head with slight interest.

"How intriguing," He mused, folding his hands in front of him. "Tell me, lad. How did you manage that?"

Jack glared at Felix, his chest heaving, for I could tell that act had caused him pain.

"I'm not an angel."

Jack raised his hand, poised to snap the monsters all into dust.

"Oh, I wouldn't do that if I were you," Felix half-heartedly warned.

"Why not?" The Nephilim ground out.

The vampire smiled coolly. "Because these fine specimens here are not my only hostages." Of course, he had more. He was always prepared.

"Where are the others?" Jack demanded, eyes flaring.

"They're safe and sound, I assure ye. Unless, of course, you try to do somethin' stupid, such as kill me. If that's the case, and I do hope it's not, then my people have orders to do some rather unsavory things to a room full of children." Felix raised a brow, daring Jack to make a move against him.

"I can save them," Jack said, confident.

"Please! Ye don't even know where they are!" He scoffed. "Do what ye must, Jack Kline. But I really do fear for the children." Jack gritted his teeth but said nothing. He knew he was beaten. "That's better." Felix turned his attention to me. "Give up this pitiful act of yours, Martina. Come on out. You know this is checkmate."

I stepped away from Jack and stood tall, allowing the thing that had made me to see the steel in my eyes. I passed Jack and planted myself in front of Felix.

"This isn't checkmate, Monroe. This is merely check. I'll be damned before I walk into something with no way out, you know that better than anyone." My voice was calm and cool and I let it chill him. It was my real voice, not that other one I always used to put people at ease. My real voice was the one that makes people do what I want.

The corner of Felix's mouth twitched up. "Oh, yes. I know." He leaned down, his face merely an inch away from mine. "I'm looking forward to it."

"So, where's the car?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Right this way, m'dear." He gestured towards the dirt road a ways away and started toward it. I began to follow but Jack's voice made me stop.

"You're a monster," He spat, shaking with rage. His pained expression had morphed into one of hatred and his glowing golden eyes fixed on Felix.

Felix twisted around, mildly amused more than anything.

"Empathy, humanity, and morality make you weak, boy. Alas, weakness is a bitch , isn't it?" He smirked, basking in the pain he caused.

"I SWEAR I WILL KILL YOU!" Jack screamed. His power flared with his anger but there was nothing he could do. The absolute helplessness and hopelessness of his situation finally dawned on him. He never could stand feeling helpless.

"Hold on, I'm confused. Is that not what you do ?" Felix jeered, lifting a brow. Jack froze, his eyes going wide and puppy-like as the vampire's words hit him in the heart. His rage and power dimmed.

"W-What?" Poor thing. His voice sounded so small. He had never been made for this.

"You're the Winchester's attack dog, are ye' not?" Felix clarified. "Playing judge, jury, and executioner for anything you deem a monster."

"You are a monster," Jack scowled, clenching his fists.

"Oh, I know that!" Felix laughed. "But I like to think I've done quite a bit to earn me that title. There are, however, six quite innocent and quite human patients in critical condition at a Manhattan hospital. Six patients, who you put there. Those weren't monsters now, were they?"

Jack's face paled. Sam and Dean had said everyone was fine. Sam and Dean had lied. "H-How did- How did you-"

"That was some stunt you pulled in Times Square, boy," He mused. "Did you really think I wouldn't know about it?"

"Th-that w-was... I-it wasn't... I didn't mean to I-" Jack shook his head in denial. "It was an accident!"

"Why, of course it was!" Felix laughed. "You've not a malicious heart nor the disposition to take an innocent life. Dear boy, you are but a loaded gun for the Winchesters aim at anything they don't like."

Jack shook his head. "T-that's not true! I kill things that are evil because they hurt people." His words sounded hollow like they were something practiced. Like something that had been pounded into him.

"Do ye now? Because as I recall, you killed your own mother and ye' don't even know why. Sad, that." Felix smiled. "You kill because you were bred to; it's your purpose. It's almost cute, the son of the devil thinking he's a hero."

"I am ! I'm a hunter!" Jack insisted.

"You are not a hero," Felix sneered, shaking his head. "You are a murderer, Jack Kline. What else could ya be?" The Scottish man turned on his heel, not caring much to hear what the Nephilim had to say.

"Y-you're wrong. You're wrong about me!" That was all Jack could force out. He tried so hard to keep the tears at bay. I shook my head and turned away from him to follow my creator. "M-Marty?" Jack called out from behind me, his voice laced with desperation and confusion.

I stopped.

In that moment, I finally stripped away the final pieces of the human girl I'd made for him. The girl I'd designed for him to love. Jack would never see her again. That girl was gone now. And good riddance to her; I hoped she'd never come back.

Because she was weak.

And I was not.

Because she was human.

And I was a monster.

Because she was kind.

And I was cruel.

Because she was innocent.

And I was insane.

Because she was honest and grateful.

And I was a deceitful manipulator.

Because she was the blissful mirage.

And I was the horrid reality.

Because she was perfect.

And I never could be.

Because Jack Kline loved that sweet girl.

But that girl wasn't ME.

She never had been.

Of course, I still loved him which only made this harder. But I supposed that in a few hours that would be of no consequence. He wouldn't care. And that fact hurt like a needle to the heart, but pain only brings power to those with nothing left to lose. So, I threw my head back and I laughed as I embraced that pain, just as I did for every other cut and bruise I had ever received. That needle was one in a million and all that pain was what made me real. So, I sighed and turned back to where my angel boy stood, staring at me like some lost puppy.

"I'm sorry, Jack," I said sweetly, "Thanks for getting me this far, I don't think I could have done it without you. Unfortunately, this is something I have to do on my own. This is my last page and nobody can write it for me."

"You can't go," He said, shaking his head. There were tears in his eyes but none in mine. I smiled at him and that was the first he'd seen from me that was real, because, for the first time, Jack was talking to me.

"Why are you worried, Jack?" I was surprised at how smooth and pleasing my own voice sounded, now that I took notice. My real voice was why I was dangerous; when I used it I could make anyone do anything. But there was a reason I had been masking it for so long. It was what had gotten me into this in the first place. "I know you'll come to save me."

"What if I'm too late?" He asked, his voice breaking.

"Then I'll be there waiting for you," I answered.

"You'll die," Jack whispered. I laughed lightly, shaking my head.

"I'm not going to die today, Jack."

"You don't know that!"

"I've known for longer than you think," I said. I watched his teary, desperate expression and copied it to my memory as best as I could. It was the last time he'd look at me that way. At least for a while. "Just do me one last favor?"

"Anything," Jack promised.

"There's a girl you haven't met yet, try not to hate her when you do." I smiled and Jack nodded, trying his best to stay strong.

Then I left him there.

Alone in the sand, he watched a stranger he thought he loved going to what he thought was her death and vowed to save her from it.

Was it wrong for me to deceive him?

Did I care if it was?

***

Sam paced back and forth along the length of the lighthouse as he waited for Dean and Castiel to return. Every few minutes or so he would check his watch anxiously and run a hand through his hair, muttering something unintelligible under his breath before he resumed his pacing.

But Jack wasn't paying attention to that. He was busy staring at his hands. There were too many thoughts racing through his head for him to focus on any one of them. It had all happened so fast and there was nothing he could have done, but it didn't feel that way. Jack felt responsible. Martina was going to die because of him. It was his fault.

It was always his fault.

The door of the Lighthouse burst open, revealing Dean and Cas standing there in the driving rain that had come on before anyone had time to notice. Dean threw himself inside and Cas trailed after him, taking the time to close the lighthouse door while Dean shook the rain off like an oversized dog.

"What took you so long?" Sam was immediately questioning. "Where were you?"

"Gettin' information," Dean smirked. "It took a while, but one of the bloodsuckers squealed. What happened here, Jack?"

"I kissed Martina," Jack blurted out.

"What?" Sam, Dean, and Cas asked in unison, sharing the same disbelieving expression.

Jack hadn't meant to say it but it just sort of came out. It probably wasn't his fault, though. Jack simply couldn't stop thinking about every detail of his time with the girl in the lighthouse. He wanted to focus on what had happened after, but his brain simply wouldn't cooperate.

"I, um... I kissed Martina..." He repeated, somewhat nervously. "And I think I liked it..."

Had he liked it? Jack thought so; he was pretty sure. But something about it felt off.

Why had he kissed her in the first place? What had compelled him to do that? Jack didn't know.

His memories of the kiss were strange. He remembered clearly the emotions he'd felt, and the intensity of them. Yet, for some reason, Jack couldn't seem to recall where those feelings had come from. He had wanted to kiss Martina, but not like that... Or... maybe he had? It felt to Jack as if the decisions he'd made weren't his own. He couldn't even remember making any decisions, really. All he remembered was those feelings and acting on them. Something about that seemed off to him but Jack wasn't sure. He supposed it wasn't that out of the ordinary for him to behave impulsively. On the contrary, he tended to do that quite a lot. So, what was bothering him?

"Wait..." Dean paled, "You and Marty... You- You two didn't, like... do it in a lighthouse, right?"

Jack tilted his head, brows furrowing. "Do what?"

"C-Cas?" Dean's face whitened another shade as he turned to the seraph. "Please tell me your son didn't-" Castiel gave a long-suffering sigh.

"No, Dean. I really don't think they did anything," He said, rolling his eyes.

"Not everyone is like you," Sam added. Dean waved him off.

"Yeah, okay, but why am I the only one gettin' weirded out by this?" He exclaimed.

"Because we have bigger problems, Dean!" Sam pointed out, exasperated. Sam seemed anxious and Jack wondered what he wanted to tell them.

"Well, I think this is pretty big!" Dean insisted, turning to Jack. "Dude, what the hell?"

"I don't understand what you mean. Martina and I kissed." Jack said simply.

"Dean, seriously. I-" Sam tried. Dean held up a hand, sighing.

Dean sighed. "Jack... Y-You don't do that."

"Dean! Listen-"

"Not now, Sam!" Dean cut him off again.

"Why not? Jack asked, frowning.

"Look, ya just- Ya gotta wait a little while, man!" Dean said, running a hand over his face. "I mean, Marty's like, twelve!" He insisted. By then, Sam had decided he'd had it.

"No, Dean! She's really not!" The younger Winchester yelled, throwing his hands in the air.

"What?" Dean was shocked by his brother's sudden outburst. Sam took a deep breath to calm himself now that he had everyone's attention.

"Martina's not as young as we think she is. I-I think she's older, m-much older." Sam said, stress leaking into his tone.

"What are you saying, Sam?" Cas asked.

"I'm saying we've been played."

***

The car ride was smooth and it was the first time I'd been in a limo, so naturally, I took the comforts offered me. I stretched out across the seat, lounging as I stared out the tinted window. I didn't worry about Felix sitting directly across from me. I knew he didn't want to kill me. Not yet anyway.

"I'm curious, how did you manage to fool them?" He asked, watching me with a comfortable expression.

I shrugged. "Long story, lots of boring details."

"Indulge me," He insisted.

"Why should I?" I asked. He shrugged, mimicking me.

"I'm simply curious."

I hummed. "I bet you are."

He smirked. "Well, what can I say? It's just my nature." I nodded vaguely, continuing to stare out the window. We both knew how this would end. There was no real reason not to tell him.

"Sam Winchester and Dean Winchester and the angel Castiel..." I said their names thoughtfully, allowing the corner of my lips to twitch up into a sly smile. "They seem so simple at first glance. You have the poor unfortunate soul who lost so much yet kept his kindness, the perfect killer who spent his whole life at war, and the fallen angel who found a home. But if that was all there was then I never would have fooled them. However, for men who claim to be so faithless, there's so much they want to believe in."

"Whot do ye mean?" Felix asked, tilting his head. I smirked lazily. T

"I'll start with Sam. Sam is kind because he's damaged, but the last thing he is is a fool. When someone's good at unraveling lies, the last thing you do is give them a really big one to unravel. If you do that, then they'll cut right through and they'll figure you out easily. So, what do you do? You give them distractions. Hide puzzles within puzzles and Sam will stop to solve each one because he loves it. But how do you get him to ignore the big picture?" I stopped and grinned.

"It's easy really. All I had to do was appeal to his hate. Sam Winchester is so extraordinarily full of such raw and powerful hate, that if you simply aim it at a conceivable target, he can ignore anything else. And of course, with his hate blinding him to the truth, Sam can't figure out the lie. All one has to do to fool Sam is give him a puzzle to solve and something to hate.

"So, I made him hate you."

***

"How?" Castiel asked, tilting his head.

"It's Marty. We can't trust her," Sam said. Dean scoffed

"After all that lecturing earlier? Why the hell not?" He demanded. Sam took a nervous breath.

"Because she's been lying to us, Dean," He said. "I-I think she's been lying to us this whole time."

Dean's jaw clenched and he crossed his arms over his chest. "What are you talking about, Sam?" His voice was tight and guarded.

"I talked to Felix after I saved the little girl," Sam admitted.

"You just stood there and talked to that son of a bitch! He's a sick, messed up, psychopath! Sam, what the hell is wrong with you?!" Dean yelled. Sam held out his hands in a peacemaking gesture.

"I know w-what he is, Dean. A-and, believe me, I thought the same things you are now and I swear it was over the phone a-and all he did w-was tell me things. But-" Sam hissed through his teeth and tugged at his hair, seemingly at war with himself.

"But what, Sam?"

"I don't know. He- he just-"

"You don't know?!" Dean interrupted accusingly.

"H-He said things, alright! Felix told me things. Things about Marty. A-and they- they made - They just made so much sense! And I hate him just as much as you do and I don't wanna believe him but-" Sam's voice faltered and he shook his head seeming lost.

"What did he tell you?" Castiel pressed, gentle but still firm.

"He told me Martina killed his wife."

***

"Now, Dean? Dean's a little harder," I said as the driver made a sharp left-hand turn. "Dean's not just a hardened killer, though that's mostly what he wants people to see. He wants people to see the machine without a heart so no one will see how horrifically broken he really is." Thinking of what Dean was really like made me laugh and I flicked my gaze at Felix. "And believe me when I say that there's nothing that could fix him by now."

"But there's so much more to him than the killer and the brokenness. Dean's the righteous man who's never known a day away from war. There are so many things he wants so desperately. Dean dreams of walking peacefully along a beach yet he's never even been to one. For all he's never had Dean tries to give it to others. For all the blood and death he's seen he's remarkably full of love. Love is the key, really. Dean Winchester loves more powerfully than anyone I've ever met. If Dean loves someone he'll do anything for them.

"He sees my age and sees in me the child he never was. He sees me afraid and wants to provide me the protection no one gave him. He sees me flinch when someone yells and wants to offer me the security he never knew. He sees an orphan and wants to give me the parental love he never had. All one has to do to fool Dean Winchester is give him a child to love.

"So, I made him love me."

***

"And you believed him?" Dean scoffed. "Marty is a kid, Sam! She's a kid! Just a scared kid who needs our protection! Marty never could have done something like that."

"Why not?" Cas spoke up. All eyes snapped to the angel.

"BECAUSE SHE'S A KID!" Dean roared. Jack flinched away from him, he'd always hated when Dean yelled. It scared him. Though, this time Dean sounded less angry and more desperate. As if there was something he didn't want to believe. As if yelling the words would make them true.

"T-that's what I thought too. But what if we're wrong?" Sam asked.

"How could we be wrong?" Dean demanded.

"What if Marty's not a kid?" Sam carefully spoke, "What if she's not human?"

Dean shook his head. "No," He said, "No, you're wrong. I know what you're thinkin' and you're wrong." Jack shook his head too. There was no way... was there? Something itched at the back of his mind. He didn't know what it was. Did he want to?

"Dean, I know this is hard to accept, but we need to think this through," Sam said, holding his hands out beseechingly.

"We don't have time for that!" Jack spoke up. "Felix is going to kill Marty! We can't just let her die!"

Sam held up a hand. "He's not gonna kill her, not for a while. We have time."

"No, you don't get it! I promised I'd save her!" Jack said.

"Exactly!" Sam pointed out. "Jack, that's exactly what she wants! She's been planning this the whole time."

"What do you mean 'the whole time'?" Dean inquired, crossing his arms.

"Think back to the beginning, w-when we first met Marty," Sam said, walking them through it. "Why were we in Copper Harbor?"

"For a ghost hunt," Jack answered, impatience leaking through his tone.

"You're right, but there was another case there. What was it?"

"Blood was being stolen from the hospital..." Cas said slowly as if remembering.

"Exactly! Exactly." Sam took a breath. "Now, that ghost in the viral video, who was it? Was it whoever's bones we burned?"

"No, it was..." Jack made the connection. Why hadn't he noticed that before? "It was Isaac."

"Okay, so that means..." He trailed off.

"That Marty was lying about the hunt and the bones," Cas finished.

"Right, now why would she do that?"

"I dunno, professor. Maybe so we wouldn't torch her brother?" Dean rolled his eyes.

Sam pursed his lips, sighing. "Well, yes, b-but no! This isn't about Isaac, this is about Marty. What would she have been hiding?"

"The blood theft," Cas said decisively. Dean shook his head.

"That's a coincidence. Marty can't be - She can't-" He couldn't even say it. He could hardly think it. "Marty can't be a vampire."

***

"Castiel was harder," I continued. "Aside from the fact that he's a multi-billion-year-old cosmic being, Castiel also lacks a soul. That made tapping into his emotions significantly more difficult, but once I did that it was quite clear that I could never fool him. At least, not directly. He's intelligent, not easily deceived, and he always tries to do what he thinks is best. Whatever that course of action might be, more often than not, it hasn't been the right one.

"Castiel is, primarily, a screw-up. There's a lot of history and even more drama involving his fellow angels and the Winchesters, and he has consistently attempted to fight for both sides of the war between them. His torn loyalties have caused a great many more problems than they've fixed and it seems as though any attempt to fix one of said problems breeds yet more chaos. Castiel is rebellious. He can never seem to do what he's supposed to. So, naturally, that makes him the most dangerous piece on the board.

"When Castiel sets his mind on something, there isn't much that can sway him. His actions have proven, repeatedly I might add, that he is even willing to go behind the backs of the Winchesters if he believes it's for the greater good. But his destructive pattern stops only for the one person he's never betrayed. Thus, to fool Castiel one has to fool his son.

"So, I got my hands on Jack."

***

"Why not?" Cas snapped.

"'Cause she just can't!" Dean's voice broke.

"She single-handedly killed five vampires, Dean! Remember?" Cas pressed. "There's no way a mere child her age could have done that."

Jack shook his head, refusing to believe it. "Marty can't be a vampire. Dad, she just can't be."

Castiel sighed, his eyes soft. "I know you want to believe that."

"Why shouldn't we?" Dean challenged.

"Because she killed five vampires single handedly! What part of that escapes your understanding?!" Cas repeated with frustration.

"We don't know what happened in there!" Dean persisted.

"Exactly! WE DON'T KNOW!" Cas yelled.

"THEN WE CAN'T ACCUSE, CAN WE?" Dean shouted back. Jack flinched again and Cas took notice, forcibly relaxing his posture in hopes of reassuring his son.

Sam groaned. "Look at the facts, Dean. The research!"

"Damn the research, Sammy! This is Marty! We know her!"

"We know she's an empath!" Sam spat. "She's been playing with all our emotions, we know that! We need to look at this objectively and, as hard as that might be, it means looking at the facts!"

"What about the facts?" Dean asked reluctantly.

"Think about it," The younger brother said. "W-we did the research, remember? Remember how none of it lined up?"

"Yeah, because Felix messed with it!" Dean tried.

"Not all of it," Sam pointed out, "Marty said she was nine when she died, but her youngest brother was ten. Remember that? How could she have been younger than her youngest sibling?"

"Sam, that-"

"Because she wasn't, Dean," He hissed, "She wasn't nine. Marty was sixteen."

"I-I remember..." Dean froze, his eyes flicking up to meet his brother. "Sammy..." He said, his voice tense and shaking, "How did I forget that?"

Dread coated Castiel's tone as he answered instead.

"I think she wanted us to."

***

"Jack is a very special boy," I said, sarcasm lacing my tone. "Although, he is the offspring of a fallen archangel, so I'd assume that 'special' comes rather naturally. Thanks for that clue, by the way. It would have taken me much longer to figure him out if it wasn't for that itty bitty little detail."

"You would have gotten it regardless." Felix shrugged.

"Of course I would've!" I snorted, shaking my head. "I didn't think my abilities were of any question."

"They weren't," Felix replied. "I know what you're capable of, lassie."

I smirked devilishly. "You should." Felix's hand clenched into a fist and he sent me a tight smile.

"Indeed." He forced the word through his teeth. "Which is why I'm surprised you enlisted to lie to that boy so completely. Doesn't that violate whatever moral code of Donoghue's it is that you've adopted?" I nodded and shrugged with a sigh.

"You're right, it does. Jack is in many senses young and vulnerable and on top of that, he's dreadfully naïve. He could never deserve what I did to him." I huffed out a humorless laugh as my face twisted into a sneer. "But you do. So I made an exception."

Felix shook his head as if disappointed. "Now, now, Martina. When one has a goal, one does not make exceptions. Lest they desire to fail, of course. Only hypocrites make exceptions. Did I teach you nothing?"

"I'm not like you," I spat.

"Is that what it looks like from where you sit?" He mused quietly. I flashed him a barred toothed grin and continued.

"There's only one that Jack Kline truly wants in this world. He wants to be good - to prove to himself and those around him that despite his parentage, he can be good. He's been told that there's something wrong with him, so he wants to find a way to somehow purge it. But he can't because there's nothing wrong and there never was. Yet, he can't believe that. So it leaves him with an insatiable desire to please.

"It's pathetic, really. He seeks validation in everything. He thinks he has to be useful to be loved. Otherwise, he's just a burden, one that nobody wanted. Jack doesn't want to believe that; he wants to be told that isn't true. Jack Kline may be powerful but he's also soft - moldable if you will. See, he's so haplessly needy that it's honestly sickening. He'll do anything for you to tell him what he wants to hear. And he'll do anything to keep hearing it.

"Jack is a combination of his three guardians. He's desperate. Like Dean, he doesn't want to see what's right in front of him. But he's not stupid. I had to erase his memory more than once. Then, like Sam, I simply distracted him and, much like Castiel, I had to keep him in line by appealing to that insatiable need of his. To fool Jack Kline one has to give him someone to save.

"He thinks he's saving me." I smiled fondly when I'd finished, glancing up at Felix with a challenge in my gaze.

"Well, we both know that's impossible," He said, eyeing me with a smirk, "There's nothing left in that cold shell of yours worth saving." I grinned, showing him the insane thing he'd created.

"You're damn right."

***

Then, like a memory, there were words running through Jack's head. Words and voices, but he didn't remember hearing them.

'You said you were nine then! But y-you - you weren't!' That was his voice in his ears. But Jack couldn't remember saying those words. 'You haven't aged a day... Five years and you haven't aged a day.'

'I aged about a month, actually.'

The other voice was Marty. The words buzzed like static, making his headache. Jack shook his head. It was like Deja Vue but entirely more vivid. Sam, Dean, and Cas kept talking. It was hard to hear them through the ringing in his ears.

"Cas, are you saying she can wipe memories?" Dean asked.

"I'm not sure," Castiel replied, shaking his head. "But she can certainly suppress them."

"But it-it must only work when she's around b-because when she's gone - I know for me - When Marty's not around I-I start to remember," Sam said.

The ringing in Jack's ears intensified, making him groan and grasp at his head. He clamped his hands over his ears but the ringing only grew louder. It was like angel radio, but instead of being surrounded by fire, Jack felt like he was burning from the inside out.

"Jack?" Cas was calling his name. "What's going on?"

"I-I don't- I-" Jack gasped, the pain growing stronger. "It hurts! Dad, please make it stop!"

"Jack? JACK!"

He stumbled into Cas's arms as another blurred memory hit him like a train.

'I'm gonna need you to forget that,' Marty's voice whispered in his head. She sounded so gentle, so inviting. She sounded like a spider.

'I wish I could,' His own voice shook as Jack listened to himself say words he couldn't remember speaking. It felt like a memory that didn't belong to him.

There was more to it this time. There was a picture frame, but the picture inside was out of focus. There was an image. It was Martina. She had fangs. And there was something else too. Jack could feel it like a phantom pain. It was terror. The paralyzing kind. The feeling of being trapped. Jack felt the shadow of limbs and he couldn't move. He was trapped. Jack couldn't get out. He was trapped like a fly in a web. Marty was the spider. He couldn't get away. He couldn't get away from her.

She wouldn't let him.

'I can make you forget,' She was going to hurt him. ' Take us back to the night we met. '

'What do you mean?' His voice asked cautiously. He was scared. He was so scared. He couldn't get out.

'I'm going to talk to you, and then you're going to forget, and everything will be back to the way it was.'

'You're a monster.' He'd said

The ringing in Jack's ears faded and he bolted upright, gasping and shaking as panic set in. He needed to tell Sam, Dean, and Castiel what he'd remembered but he couldn't seem to find the words.

"S-She lied." That was all he could force out.

"Jack, what happened? Are you okay?" Castiel worried, checking over him. Jack just shook his head.

"She did something to me," He choked out, shaking. "I don't know. I can't remember. Why can't I remember? She did something to me!" He felt sick. There was something wrong with him.

No.

There was something wrong with Marty.

She was sick.

"What? What did she do?" Dean demanded, eyes wide.

"She-She made me forget. I knew. I-I knew and she made me forget!"

"Forget what?" Sam asked.

"I figured her out a-and she made me forget but I remembered." Jack stopped and only then did he realize he was crying. "She's one of them."

Because she had betrayed him. Marty had betrayed all of them. Jack didn't even know what to believe anymore. Had any of it been real? Or was it all some twisted lie?

"I'm sorry, Jack," Cas offered quietly.

"You were right, Sam," Jack whispered. He couldn't stop his voice from shattering. "Martina is a monster. A-And she lied."

There was silence for a moment. Then, Dean spoke up. Because someone had to take the lead and it was always him. It wasn't fair, but it was always him.

"We gotta go," He said, struggling to make his voice sound cold and firm. But he'd lost a daughter today.

"W-Where?" Sam asked.

"Me and Cas know where Felix is taking Marty. That kid's got some answering to do," Dean answered, his green eyes darkening with his tone. Castiel stood, helping Jack climb to his feet.

"Martina is dangerous, Dean. Are you sure you're willing to do what may be necessary?" Cas asked, watching Dean with a somber expression.

"It's not gonna come to that," Dean said.

"And if it does?"

"I will." Jack's voice was quiet but it caught the adult's attention.

"Jack, are you- Are you really sure?" Cas asked gently. Jack shook his head.

"I don't want to kill Martina. But you're right, she is dangerous." His voice faltered. "I can't let her hurt anybody else."

***

Felix's limo pulled into the garage of what was easily a multi-million dollar home. It was four stories and it reminded me of a castle with its dull grey stone and tall windows. The interior of the garage was constructed simply of polished cement and was entirely empty aside from the car now parked within it. I sent Felix a smirk and climbed from the vehicle, slamming the door shut behind me. The car was surrounded. Twenty or so of Felix's vamps stood guard but I knew they were more for display than anything else. Some of them I recognized, some I didn't.

"And here I thought this little girl's night was just gonna be you and me," I huffed dramatically upon seeing them, "You had me feeling all special."

"Sorry to disappoint, Lassie," Felix drawled. "But don't worry, I invited some of your friends too. Well, just one to be exact."

I shot him a curious glance but shrugged before sauntering my way past Felix's lackeys like I owned the place. I supposed I had, but that was so long ago. Were his minions really still so afraid of me? I surveyed one of the vamps as I passed him, taking notice of the bead of sweat dripping down his neck. He was clearly terrified.

So, they remembered who their queen was. Good.

Spinning on my toe like a ballerina, I let a bubbling laugh escape my throat. All of Felix's soldiers turned to face me, watching with careful eyes.

"Hello, Lovelies!" I called, grinning. A few of them shifted nervously. "Just thought you all should know, both your beloved Prince and Princess are dead! I killed them!" Murmurs spread around the empty garage, echoing off the polished grey walls. "That's right! Boyd's head I ripped off with a tractor, though I'm sure your leader was glad to finally be rid of his bastard son." I glanced at Felix who stood there stoically and winked. "I knew about that, by the way. As for Elwyn, I had the Devil's son snap her into dust like Peter Parker in Infinity War. 'Cept she ain't comin' back!" I giggled in reaction to the horrified expressions of Felix's soldiers and send the man himself a smirk before whipping around again.

"Ye know, Martina?" His voice made me pause though I kept my back to him. "I look at you and I don't see anyone looking back..." He trailed off, his tone thoughtful. "Where is that soul you used to have?"

"Just like I told your daughter, I lost it in the woods in favor of something else. You wanted me to learn something and I learned it!" I eyed him over my shoulder. "You never should have sent me there."

"I know that now." Felix sounded almost solemn. "Whatever Sampson brought back with him wasn't the girl I tossed in, was it?"

I shrugged. "That's where you're wrong. It's still me. Like I said, I just learned something over there is all."

"And what did you learn?" He wondered.

"That you were wrong."

"It doesn't seem I was," He said. I chuckled softly.

"You said I was made to be a queen. You were wrong."

"Aye?"

"I'm not a queen, Monroe." I turned to face him. "I'm a damn Empress." I grinned. "And, honey, you should see me in your crown."

I didn't bother to watch his expression. I just turned and walked.

Pushing my way through the garage door, I skipped down a long, dark hallway decorated with dark wooden pieces that I was sure had cost more money than they were worth. I smirked upon hearing Felix's footsteps trailing behind me. Whirling around and walking backward, I grinned at my former torturer.

"Got anything you didn't wanna say in front of your minions?" I taunted.

"I do, actually." He huffed a laugh that held no humor. "For the record, I'm sorry."

My expression soured. "No you're not."

"I am, truly." He placed his hand over his heart in a gesture of sincerity. "I apologize for my greed and my stupidity. I unleashed you upon this world; that will be my greatest regret, I think. I made you into a plague and I lost control over you."

"You never controlled me," I hissed.

"And I the second I realized that I should have put you down," Felix said. "I just hope the Winchester's don't make the same mistake."

I shook my head. "That's the think, Felix. They will."

"Perhaps. Perhaps not." He shrugged.

"I guess I'll find out, won't I? So! Where's this friend of mine?" I asked, rubbing my hands together.

"Two doors down on your right," Felix answered. I glanced at the door he was referring to then back to him.

"Ooh, goodie. Before I open it, why do I get a present?"

Felix shrugged. "Call it a joke."

I nodded. "Dope."

Then I skipped over to the dark wooden door and grasped the handle. It wasn't locked, of course, so I pulled it open. I didn't look for traps. I knew Felix would never stoop that low. The room was pitch black and there were no windows, but I found the light switch easily enough. Bright fluorescent bulbs flicked on and washed the space with light.

Sitting on a wooden chair in the middle of the room, was a rather muscular man. His arms and legs were tied to the chair and his head was tilted down. I may not have been able to see his face, but I would have recognized that old, grungy cap almost anywhere. I crossed the space between us and tapped him on the shoulder. The man inclined his head, squinting against the light, but when he caught a glance of my face, his usually bright eyes filled with terror.

I had forgotten how fun it was to instill that level of fear. I smirked.

"Hey there, Benny! I haven't seen you since the Hunger Games!"

~We'll never get free Lamb to the slaughter What you gon' do When there's blood in the water? The price of your greed Is your son and your daughter What you gon' do When there's blood in the water?

Beg me for mercy Admit you were toxic You poisoned me just for Another dollar in your pocket Now I am the violence I am the sickness Won't accept your silence Beg me for forgiveness~

Lyrics from: Blood In The Water by grandson

[chibitabathasloves]

i agree w the notes !! i hadnt noticed the scarf stuff but it makes a lot of sense. nice catch !

sorry the brain fog is taking a bit. i love that u have a notebook for that btw. if you ever end up watching manhunter, it's an ok adaptation of the book red dragon. im kind of insane about red dragon willnibal and manhunter willnibal : i think manhunter will is VERY different from red dragon will, in bad ways, but both are kind of insane to me. i have book fandesigns but idk if its worth posting the content bc everyone is so used to NBC ? but then again i literally draw manhunter designs which are from a movie literally Two people in the fandom have seen so

i like ur interpretation of hannibals feelings for will ! i do have a bit of trouble being as optimistic about it as other people in the fandom. i kind of don't really know where the control freakism starts and where it ends w his feelings for him. you're right that he didn't choose who he loves, which i'm sure made him ABSOLUTELY FURIOUS, BECAUSE HOW DARE, but also so he can play chess with will properly instead of just making him a pawn he does have to relinquish some control... and he can't just detach himself emotionally from the situation, he's in love... but then it means he has to give up control. i love willnibal so much, i love writing it so much, it's so fucking complicated.

also i love the italian nicknames they're so cute :) i love the idea of italian nicknames in general. hope u can kick ur friends ass !! i do love the idea of will trying to connect w hannibal thru languages. italian seems like a good middle ground, lithuanian is really pushing it too far imho. remembers lovingly that mspaint comic i made w will thinking it would be a VERY good idea to practice saying "i love you" in lithuanian and chiyoh begging him to stop because it was the worst idea alive

Hello again, sorry I was at a wedding last night trying to wrangle small children that aren't mine.

My notes have like insightful little quips and then bullshit like: "Fucking monster. Licked a newspaper." Like, ah yes. They're going to give the cannibal glue. No, no they won't. But he sure did lick that newspaper for his weird little scrapbook.

I'm not going to lie, the reason I've actually thought about watching Manhunter is cause of you. My one friend told me the movie isn't very good (I'm notoriously bad at watching bad films) but I wanted to be able to interact with your art for those things because I like your art so much. Also now that I am an unhinged Hannibal fan, he got me to watch Hannibal Rising (i think I told him I wanted my time and money back), SOTL and Red Dragon. My first thought when seeing Norton as Will was "Really? The fight club guy?" But i remember so little of the film other than 'wow, Freddie Lounds is a dick whether he has one or not' and 'hehehe exercise leash'. And then with SOTL I was like "wow, good thing all these characters appear to be the pinnacle of mental health." But they sure didn't seep into my brain. I might try watching them again. But I def want to watch Manhunter. Give me insane. I'm down for the sickness (brain rot).

Also, give me the fan designs. I'm still a partial Witcher fan, so I love seeing the book designs people come up with. I love that for people! I love that for me!

The weird thing about Hannibal's feelings is that he's so blasé about them. I think at first he saw Will, and was intrigued about the potential of being seen. But clearly it wasn't the superpower it was practically claimed to be. After all, Will looked him dead in the eyes and didn't see the creature behind the veil. But maybe Hannibal saw something else in those eyes that wouldn't settle. Like a feral animal curled into itself, eyes darting around, looking for the best and quickest exit. Unlike when he met Lass, who was hardworking and smart, he kept her because of that intelligence. Will had something, but he wasn't sure what. And I think that's why when he says he was curious about what Will would have done with Hobbs when he had placed that phone call, I believe him. Will was either going to be another of Jack's bloodhounds stolen from under his nose, or he was going to be something else. I think that Hannibal struggles with some form of depression, the surface level attachments to his creature comforts, so the boredom is stifling. Hannibal himself is so incredibly nuanced and shifts from "Will is my friend" to "Guess I have to eat him" in the same conversation. I don't think Will was ever safe from Hannibal's knife. At least not until like S3 finale. The issue with an emotion you're not used to is its volatile, and we can see that in how Hannibal talks of Will and to Will. I do think that he joined Jack in helping to groom Will to kill himself, because it would be a worthy challenge.

I know some of the Fandom elevate Will to a god-adjacent status in Hannibal's eyes. But again, I think that comes and goes. I think there are moments where Hannibal looks at Will and sees the God of Righteous Fury, and other times he sees the man who is ruining his life. Hannibal's body language and facial expressions are all very neutral (props to Mads Mikkelsen for that), so you have to watch his eyes and mouth for the smallest flickers. And they are small. Matthew Brown was a fool and a tool, but he was right about the eyes.

NBC Hannibal's past is very patchwork-y but from what I could scrape together he would have stopped speaking Lithuanian around the time he was mute, would have shifted into at least understanding or attempting to understand Russian (soviet occupied Lithuania) before he fled to France. In France he was still a mute. NBC specifically said his Uncle Robertus took him in at 16. Boarding school. So we can assume he learned French in boarding school. Japanese would have been next up, Lady Murasaki and Chiyoh would have used it to speak to each other, both so far from home, it would have helped ease the homesickness. So I do believe Hannibal would have learned Japanese. But Japanese would be tied to another heartbreak (like Lithuanian) when Murasaki sends Hannibal away after he refuses to stop stabbing people. He goes to his mother's homeland of Italy, and eventually settles in Florence, where he learns Italian and comes to grow into the man we know today. So that's why I advocated hard for Italian nicknames. And why I think that language for Hannibal is important, but also an insane field filled with landmines.

Welcome to my Hannibal TedTalk lmao

And I will kick his butt, because I want to write suburban murder husbands calling each other il mio mostro and il mio tutto, and I think we chose a German nickname for Abbie, but I don't remember it now. Had to look it up Jägerin, for huntress. Cause we're unhinged and can lmao