#also i realise that some of the material here might be triggering? should i start to include trigger warnings?
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thekitchensnk ¡ 5 years ago
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and the spider lilies bloomed in the fall (chapter 14)
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Rating: T Warnings: Sexual themes, violence Pairing: Gin/Ran Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14
“They say that lovers doomed never to see each other again still see the higanbana growing along their path, even to this day.”
A girl collapses on a dusty road one day. A boy takes her home.
The girl lives.
—
(The boy doesn’t.)
When she awoke the next morning, her head was splitting and her mouth felt stale and dry. She twisted her face sleepily at the awful taste, and scowled blearily.
“Too much to drink last night, Rangiku-chan?” Ayame asked with feigned innocence.
Rangiku could only groan in response, and she pulled her pillow over her head.
“Nope, nope, nope!” Ayame cried. “Up you get, you lazy bones. We have the entire club to mop and I’m not doing it by myself just because someone indulged a bit too much last night. Besides,” she huffed, “Chiyo-san will have your hide if you’re late. She’ll chuck you out, and then I’ll have to do it all by myself until she can hire a new girl.”
Rangiku’s groan grew plaintive and pitiful. “Ayame…”
But Ayame’s eyes were resolute.
“Three. Two,” she counted down in warning.
Rangiku whined miserably.
“One.”
“Okay! Okay! I’m up! You slave-driver! You meglomaniac! You’re as bad as Chiyo-baa-san, I swear. If you’re not careful you’ll get old and wrinkly and start to smell like cabbage just like- gyack!”
Ayame had taken hold of her legs. Rangiku flailed wildly, but it was too late- Ayame dragged her by the legs out of her bed and she trailed blankets and fabrics in her wake. Rangiku found herself sliding on her back across the tatami, dragged by her legs, and it scraped at her as she moved. By some stroke of misfortune, it seemed like her limbs bashed into every object in her path, and her head rang like a bell with her hangover. In the meantime, Ayame had made impressive and stubborn progress towards the rice-paper door, even whilst dragging her roommate behind her.
“I said ‘okay!’ Ayame-chan! Shit! Let go of my legs!” Rangiku demanded, her golden hair fanned out about her face in a frazzled mane.
A red flush sat high on Ayame’s cheeks, but she let go. “Get up on time then!” she ordered.
Rangiku rubbed at her ankles, and she pouted.
“Mou, Ayame, you have a grip like a boa constrictor.”
“Rather a boa constrictor than a fat, lazy cat,” Ayame countered fiercely.
“I used my powers last night! I’m tired and hungry, alright?”
“I didn’t have an easy time of it either! I got landed with a slimy creep, and he forced his tongue into my mouth.”
Rangiku winced. 
“Yeah, actually,” she said sympathetically. “That probably is worse. Someone idiot went for me and got me right in the jaw. Didn’t hurt. Not much anyway.” She paused, and her eyes widened suddenly. “Ayame-chan, did it leave a bruise?” she fretted. If she had a big, ugly bruise on her jaw, it would seriously impact what she could make in tips.
Gin would have lied and teased her, she knew, just for kicks. She could imagine it vividly. “Yep,” he would have nodded expertly. “Big black bruise the size of a fist. Ya’ can see all the individual knuckle marks and everything. Ooo, ya’ gonna look a right sight tonight at work. Ran-chan. Ya’ sure that was a man and not a bear? It’s huge. Looks sore,” he would have said, and he would have feigned sympathy. He might even have ghosted his hand over it, and she would have shivered at the nearness of his touch. There had been no boundaries, not between the two of them.
But Gin was not here.
Ayame-chan was, and Ayame-chan did not have an ounce of guile in her (nor, Rangiku suspected sourly, a sense of humour). And though she was bossy, she was kind and she was here, and that was what counted.
Ayame cupped her face gently and studied her jawline.
“Nothing there that I can see,” she said. “Might be a bit red, but you should be okay.” Her hand dropped. “I’m sorry that you got hit. It must have hurt.”
Rangiku paused. “Well,” she said with a grimace, “I should have seen a punch like that coming from a mile off. He was so slow. Must have been the sake I sneaked. Dulled my reactions. ‘S my own fault, really.” She paused and looked Ayame earnestly in the eye. “I’m sorry that that creep forced you. I should have been there to stop him.”
But Ayame was dismissive. “It’s part of the job. Sometimes you’re not around. Sometimes they’re unbearable, sometimes they’re not. Sometimes they’re not even bad. It’s just my luck being the most junior girl here.” She paused. “‘Cept you, I guess.”
“’Cept me,” Rangiku echoed, “but I’m the muscle, not the beauty.” She grinned, entertained at her own wit, and slapped her bicep.
Ayame snorted. “Stop it. You could get a permanent job here in a heartbeat and you know it, with colouring like that. Big blue eyes. Golden hair. I’m almost jealous. Chiyo-san sniffed out a good deal when she found you- beauty and brawn.”
“And brains!” Rangiku chimed in.
Ayame’s eyes sparkled slyly. “I wouldn’t go that far, Rangiku-chan.”
Ayame did have a sense of humour, Rangiku amended to herself. It was just mean.
“Anyway,” Rangiku said pointedly, changing the subject, “Chiyo didn’t find me, actually. That was all me. I found her, and this place.” She patted the wall fondly.
“I’ve heard the story.” Ayame snorted. “You just strolled up and shouted ‘HIRE ME!’, with no references or anything.” Ayame seemed scandalised at the mere thought.
It was not at all far from the truth.
“Yep,” Rangiku said cheerfully. “Pretty much spot on.”
Ayame rolled her eyes. She put on a high-pitched voice. “’Will work- please pay in rice. And mochi if you have it.’”
“Yep,” Rangiku nodded, “Did that too.”
Ayame shook her head again. “Seriously, Rangiku-chan, I don’t understand you. All that power, those looks, and you go and you decide ‘Oh! I know what! I’ll go and work in a whorehouse.”
“Mou, Ayame-chan, be fair. It’s a club too.”
She also hadn’t known it was a whorehouse when she had brazenly demanded to be hired, but she wasn’t going to give Ayame any more of a chance to think of her as a stupid country bumpkin than she already had.
“But hardly what the majority of customers come here for.”
“Not true at all,” Rangiku argued, knowing that Ayame was right. “We have great musicians and great sake. Chiyo-san has put together a great place here. ‘S not just-“ she flushed slightly “-sex stuff.”
Ayame laughed at her then. “Come on, Rangiku-chan, you can say the word. You work here too.”
She could. She did. She had seen people in alley ways countless times in her old district, tangled up in one another, making odd gasps in the darkness, and whores selling their wares on the street, trying to scrape together enough for water and a roof over their heads. She was hardly innocent, and the girls who worked at the brothel had been sure to give her a thorough education. But at the same time, it wasn’t as if she had any practical experience in the matter. Gin had been fond of singing the dirty versions of the songs that they learnt on the streets, once upon a time, but she hadn’t understood what the words actually meant until she had started work here.
She just glowered, and Ayame ruffled her already untidy bedhead. Rangiku batted her hand away with another fierce look, and Ayame laughed. There was only a handful of years between them, but in Ayame’s view, that meant that Rangiku was a justified target for both condescension and teasing. Rangiku was younger, Ayame was elder, and that could only mean one thing: that she deserved teasing.
She hated it. She loved it.
“Come on then, you. Let’s get ready for work,” Ayame said, striding off.
Rangiku quickly tied up her messy hair with one of Ayame’s ribbons. Her hair, which she had kept at shoulder length for all the years she had known Gin, was just beginning to touch her shoulder blades, and had become increasingly hard to tame in recent days. It had only been two years, but she had shot up in height, her thighs and chest were growing thicker, and she grew curvier with every passing week it seemed. All she knew was that it was a constant pain in the ass having to remember that her hips were wider than they had been before; they were constantly littered with bruises from where she’d bashed into furniture running about the place.
For all the years she had lived with Gin, it had been as if her body was frozen in time, as if Rangiku’s innermost wish- for things never to change, for the two of them to stay together, as they were, always- had been reflected in her body. It had been as if the fear of change had weighed even on her very soul.
But time, it seemed, had finally caught up with her.
She threw her sleeping clothes (another novel aspect of this new chapter of her life) on the floor, and quickly changed into the colourful yet simple cotton yukata which served as her work clothes. She was not senior enough to warrant a silk kimono, and it would have been wasted on bar staff in any case, with the volume of spilled drinks she saw. She pulled on some tabi, stood, and straightened out her yukata with a fierce yank.
Her eyes were bright. She dashed through the paper doors after Ayame, her hip catching the door frame clumsily as she did so, and she hissed in pain.
She paused suddenly, and her hand darted to her fingers in panic. She dashed back to her sleeping roll. She fished around under her pillow, trying to find the vital thing she had forgotten. She found it quickly.
Her hands were bigger than they had once been, and so it was difficult to force it on, but there it was, two years later. A simple ring, made of tin, shining on her finger.
Satisfied, she sprinted off again.
“Ayame!” she called out loudly. “Ayame-chan!”
The sun was high in the sky, and silhouetted behind paper doors, the inhabitants of the Floating Moon were just beginning to stir. It was mid-afternoon. The work day was about to begin.
---
Ayame had taken the counter, and which had left her with the floor. How a floor could get so sticky in the course of a single night, she had no idea, and she slopped her mop around in a sulk, merely trailing grime back and forth in her efforts to clean up. Ayame had made a valiant starting effort wiping down sake cups, and she had piled the ones she had done on one side of the bar. Their white ceramic gleamed in the light. Red lanterns hung unlit from the walls, their paper faded and slightly dusty in the light of the afternoon.
There was much to be done before opening.
Rangiku mopped ferociously, her hair sticking to her forehead with the effort, and she felt her mind slip away with the mundanity of the task.
Her job, as far as she could tell, was to be bar maid, bouncer and janitor all in one.
It had been suggested, once, that she also cook the afternoon meal, the meal that they tended to all take together, once everyone had risen. She had been so giddy when she’d seen the sheer number of ingredients available in the kitchen (red bean paste? Natto? Mirin?) that she’d allowed her imagination to run wild and added a little bit of everything to the meal she had cooked. Gone were the days of rice, rice and garlic, rice and scallions, rice and ginger, rice and bone broth, and dawning were the days of the red bean soy curd surprise! It had tasted like culinary gold in her mouth, and she had moaned with the luxury of it.
Ayame had been sick. Yuki, one of the older ladies working at the Floating Moon, had turned a distinct greenish hue.
Chiyo, the brothel’s elderly owner, had stoically eaten every bite in silence, only to turn to her afterwards and announce that she was never to set foot in the kitchen again, because she was evidently cursed. Chiyo feared that her mere presence would turn the precious bounty of their kitchen rancid.
She had protested ferociously at the time.
Gin had never complained about her cooking. He would have laughed to hear that she had a kitchen-curse.
(But Gin was gone, and home was far away.)
Back in the present, she clenched her fist, and felt the bite of her too-small tin ring against her fingers.
She did not mind playing barmaid.
If anything, that was an understatement.
She loved playing barmaid.
She loved the electric thrill of the music in the night, the peals of laughter that rang through the club and bounced off its walls, the chatter and the dull roar of conversation, of deals made and jokes cracked and stories shared. She loved the energy, the atmosphere, the feeling that people were connecting and touching, even if only for one night and under one roof.
She loved the attention they showered on her, the way they would try and wheedle their way into her graces, the way that they would give her drinks and keep their eyes on her. She loved the bantering nature of it, the game-like play of interactions at the bar, the way that they would compete with each other as if she was worth something, as if they wanted her. And better still- the game was rigged. She would always win. She could string them along with a girlish laugh, and bat her golden lashes, and then she could say no, and they could do nothing about it but grumble.
Once upon a time, it had unsettled her, to have eyes linger on her like that. She had felt alien, other, to have her body looked upon in ways she didn’t understand and didn’t want, in ways so beyond her control. It had made her feel powerless. It had made her feel ashamed. She had not understood what they wanted at the time, but had intuited that they were capable of taking it by force, and the thought had frightened her.
She was stronger now. No one could take anything from her that she did not wish to give.
(But it was nice to be wanted for once. Even if only for a night. Even if only superficially.)
And now could use her powers to protect the girls here and make sure that the same was true for them.
She loved to watch the customers surreptitiously as she cleaned out sake cups behind the bar. From her post, she saw lovers and would-be lovers and soon-to-be lovers, their smiles shy, or boastful, or laden with secret meaning, and it filled her with warmth to see them, to see the softness in them, to see the tentative creation of something new.
She yearned for a softness like that, for some small thing that she could call her own.
She would watch them, and she would dream.
It was a common topic of conversation in the earliest early hours, when the dawn had cracked on the horizon and the sun was beginning to sit high in the sky and the party was over for another night. With the bright light of morning starting to caress the shadowy corners of the room, with tired, aching bodies and bright, feverish eyes, the women of the brothel (at least those who still believed in dreams and romance) would talk of love, leaning against each other to support their tired bodies, their heads together and shoulders pressed against each other.
Ayame was a pragmatist. Brushing her sweat-tangled chestnut hair out fiercely, she would say, "No boyfriends, no beaus, no sweethearts. I'm going to make my money here quickly, and then I'll be out of the business for good. I'll use my savings to start my own business, or to get some training, or I'll put it down as a dowry to attract someone rich." Whoring at an establishment like the Floating Moon paid well, and it was a pragmatic career choice for those to wished to get a good head start on the rest of their lives.
They were very lucky. Few girls in the trade could boast better conditions. Commissions were good, and Chiyo, as a former whore herself, looked after her girls to the extent that she could, and took only reasonable rates for commission, room and water. She had even employed Rangiku, a hopeless case who had rocked up at her door clueless of what it was that was actually done at the Floating Moon and who required the extra expense of feeding. Despite her burgeoning beauty and growing figure, Chiyo had not demanded that she turn tricks (though Rangiku suspected that she would offer to increase her pay if she did), but had been content to employ her on Rangiku’s own terms the minute Rangiku had demonstrated her powers.
Yuki, a gentle, small woman in her early thirties who had been at the brothel since her teens, would often disagree with Ayame, though diplomatically, as was her way. She would take the brush from out Ayame's hands, bid her to sit in front of her, and she would brush her hair more tenderly than Ayame ever did herself, working the tangles out from the ends before brushing through so as not to hurt her. "Ayame-chan,” Rangiku heard her say patiently once, “you're very young still. You might change your mind- sometimes, our plans can go awry in ways we never expect. Life throws all sorts of things at us. Love is beautiful, and love is surprising. It's like nothing else on earth."
Sayaka, with her striking green eyes which beneath thick, harsh eyebrows, took a different line again. “Give me a handsome man,” she would declaim grinning through her weariness. “A man who knows what he’s doing for once, for Kami’s sake, and not these desperate, silly little boys and lonely old men. Give me a man with fire in his veins, someone who will pay attention to me, someone who will last longer than five minutes and do more than poke, poke, po-!”
“Sayaka-kun!” Ayame would exclaim in outrage.
“What, little Ayame-chan? You know it’s true,” Sayaka would sigh.
“There are more important things than sex,” Ayame would say primly.
“Sex is important too. Passion is important. You’ll just get bored otherwise, and then where will you be?”
“Sex is important,” Yuki would agree. “There’s a reason why men pay for it, after all. But it’s not everything, Sayaka-chan. One day, you might both be lucky enough to meet someone who fills the gaps at your edges- someone who you realise you cannot do without.”
“Only one gap I’m interested in having filled, Yuki-san,” Sayaka grinned widely. Ayame would bat at her, outraged, and the two would squabble as they always did.
Rangiku, who had no idea about any of these things, would just blink sleepily at them, and long for her bed.
With Ayame’s hair finished, Yuki would pat the space in front of her and beckon to Rangiku to sit in front of her so that she could brush her hair next. Yuki’s hands were soft and just beginning to line. They felt like warm silk, and Rangiku would always lean into her touch as Yuki pushed her hair behind her ears.
“You have beautiful hair, Rangiku-chan,” she would praise. “The way it catches the light- it’s like gold! You’ve been blessed.”
Rangiku would almost purr as her hair was brushed.
“And what does Rangiku-chan think of love?” Yuki would tease quietly. “Are we pragmatic like Ayame-chan? Do we want a stallion like Sayaka-chan? Or are we content to wait and see, like me?”
Sayaka would snort. “The only thing Rangiku wants is to sleep! Such a lazy girl!” She feigned an obnoxious snore.
“It is 7am! We all want to sleep. And I’m perfectly content to wait, Yuki-san,” Ayame would add in a huff.
What did she want?
“I don’t know anything about love,” Rangiku had confessed quietly when asked for the first time.
Yuki’s response had been characteristically calm and gentle. “Who does, Rangiku-chan?” She had paused, the brush still in Rangiku’s hair, as if dwelling on things long since passed. “But you’re here. It’s hard to make it where you’ve come from all on your own.” She pointed at her ring, which gleamed in the light. “Someone must have cared, even if a little.”
Rangiku had mulled that over quietly and had said nothing.
She had arrived at a satisfying answer to give the girls after repeated prompting.
“Give me a boy who knows how to smile,” she would say, and Sayaka would whoop and Yuki would nod approvingly. “Give me a boy who will look after me. Give me a boy who will care.” Even Ayame could not find fault in that.
(But what she really meant was this: I want one boy in particular. I want him to come back.
And she would feel ashamed, because she knew that he had not wanted to stay in the first place, that she had never been enough for him.)
Over time, she began to have fun with her answers.
“Give me a man who knows how to have a good time,” she would start boldly, intent on outrage. “Give me a man who can drink me under the table. Give me a man who will worship the ground I walk on,” she would say, waving her arms about. “Give me a handsome man and a powerful man and an absolute demon in the sheets. Give me a man who will fight for me. Give me a man who would die for me,” she would end melodramatically.
Yuki would just sigh fondly, long since grown accustomed to her antics. “Sayaka has gotten to you.” She’d turn to Sayaka. “You’ve been a bad influence on our youngest girl, you!”
Sayaka would cheer and applaud. Ayame would roll her eyes and groan.
“Give her a man who knows how to cook, because she sure as hell can’t!” Sayaka joked once. Even Ayame had not been able to help but laugh on that one.
Their conspiring would draw to an abrupt end either when girls in other rooms banged on the rice paper doors, shouting at them to shut up because they had worked the whole night long and it was past dawn and well past time to be sleeping, or when they were too exhausted to keep their eyes open.
“Goodnight, Ayame-chan,” Rangiku would whisper into the light, only clumsily beaten back with shades and curtains. “Goodnight, Sayaka-kun. Goodnight, Yuki-san.”
“Goodnight Rangiku-chan,” they would murmur sleepily back at her.
Her sleep was almost always the dreamless sleep of the exhausted, but it never came instantly like it did for the others.
(Squeeze her eyes shut though she would, she always felt his absence at her back, the emptiness like negative space, like she was missing a piece. To her shame, she would replay the moments when he used to wind his arm around her, trying to forget, just for the moments that it took for her to get to sleep, that he had abandoned her.)
Pulling back from her reveries, her mind firmly back in the realities of pre-opening clean up, she turned to shout boisterously at Ayame.
“Oi, Ayame-chan! Pass me a dish cloth!”
“Come and get it yourself, you lazy thing!” Ayame shouted from behind her growing pile of sake cups.
“I don’t want to disturb that massive pile of cleaning you’ve got going on!” Rangiku yelled back. “Just throw it!”
“That’s so ungainly!” Ayame fussed.
“Just throw it!”
“Fine!” Ayame huffed, and threw a wet dishcloth. It span in the air and hit Rangiku in the face with a dull, wet slap.
“How did you do that?” she demanded.
“Do what?” Ayame said, though Rangiku could hear her muffled laughter from behind the counter. She’s not as above it all as she likes to think, Rangiku thought. And she has an aim like a demon. Rangiku smiled widely to herself.
She began to wipe down the tables, and the smell of vinegar and ginger cut through the stale alcohol-sweat smell of the club.
“You should open a window, Ayame-chan,” she called, and slipped back into reverie.
Playing barmaid was definitely her favourite part of the job. It certainly beat mopping.
Sometimes she loved getting to play the bouncer.
But sometime she hated it.
Each of the client rooms had a secret switch. Chiyo had been in the business herself and had been on the receiving end of the worst cruelties of the sex trade enough times to have insisted on it the moment she’d had enough money to afford it. It made sound business sense, she argued, to have safe, loyal workers.
The switches were rigged to a system of thin metal wires which ran secretly through the walls of the club, and in turn attached to a set of small bells under the bar. A clever little pendulum kept them ringing until the switch was flipped on the other end. It was a simple concept, really, and a simple concept which kept everyone safe.
Rangiku lived in dread of hearing one of those bells ring. If more than one rang at once, which did happen upon occasion, her heart would plummet, because it meant that she would then be forced to decide
Save one and in doing so, damn the other.
Unless she was quick.
Rangiku had become very good at being very quick.
When a bell would ring, she would swing into action immediately. Dish cloth would be tossed to the side in an instant, and she would careen over the polished wood of the bar, weaving through customers like a minnow through the kelp, sliding through paper doors like a breeze. She would take the stairs two, three at a time, her hands bright with energy and her heart hammering in her chest.
She would kick the door open with a bang, her lips twisted in a snarl.
She had seen a man with fists the size of dinner plates closing his hands around Yuki’s throat once, his cock fat and erect against her thigh. Yuki’s eyes had been wild with fear and almost popping from her head, and they had darted to her in desperation, looking to her for help. Yuki had kicked at the man wherever she could, and her small, delicate hands had been clawing at his own. She had been making an unnatural gurgling noise.
Rangiku had dreamed about that noise for weeks.
Rangiku had been too shocked to scream, but she had not frozen. Her eyes had widened, but her mouth had set in a strained line. She had shoved her hands, filled with bright, luminous reiatsu, at him with all her force. It was a clumsy, ungainly thing, more like a play-yard shove than a strike, but he had gone straight through a window and out onto the street below. Yuki had doubled over, making ugly, rasping retching noises and deep, scraping breaths.
Afterwards, Yuki had shook like a leaf, but she had folded the howling Rangiku into her arms anyway, and cried a little with her, her neck marked with twin bruises like a Rorschach butterfly. They had rocked together, arms wound tightly about each other, but Rangiku had had to make her way back to the bar after, to see out the rest of her shift. Her legs had trembled the whole night.
But Yuki had been safe because of her. Had she been on the streets alone, like the whores of her home district like Kanae, it might have been a different story altogether, and the thought made Rangiku shiver.
One time it had been Ayame; another, it had been Sayaka. Both alive, both unharmed, both safe because Rangiku had made it up the stairs in time.
She shivered to think what might happen if she ever didn’t make it in time.
Under her hands, the table was so clean that she could see her own pensive, downcast eyes reflected back at her.
“Hey!” Ayame shouted, and Rangiku jolted. Ayame noticed the troubled look on her face, and her expression softened. “Food’s ready, trouble.” She ruffled her hair again.
Rangiku stood stock still and suddenly wheeled around. She threw the dish rag back at her in revenge. It hit Ayame with a slap square in the face, and Rangiku cackled.
“STRIKE!” she cheered. Ayame’s face fell like thunder, and so Rangiku ran with a merry grin on her face.
Most business owners would have thought it an extravagance, to feed the brothel workers once a day, but Chiyo had always argued that it was good for morale (and, more cynically, she deducted the majority of the cost from their pay, so it was hardly an extravagance to her.)
Everyone but Rangiku took turns to cook, and they would all gather around the table to eat together, jostling with their elbows for space. Rangiku was the only one who had to eat out of necessity, but she loved having company whilst she ate. When everyone was present and awake, they numbered fourteen around the table. It was a simple dish, fragrant goma-ae with egg fried rice piled high in a bowl, but Rangiku salivated at the smell of it. Though she was fed just about adequately, she keenly missed the three small, simple meals a day she’d grown used to eating, once upon a time.
They’d had no table then; just a bowl between the two of them. She would restrain herself for his sake, and he would pick at the food with his chopsticks, eating like a bird. When he noticed her looking covetously at his half of the food, he would always feign a sigh and share what was left of his half. He would never complain, not seriously, and he would never begrudge her. She never caught him, but she was sure that he always added more rice to the pot when her back was turned, because he knew that she was hungry.
He had always been kind. Kind enough to carry her home. Kind enough to feed her. Kind enough to make sure she never starved again.
She sat, the first to arrive, and as she did so, she twisted the ring on her finger absent-mindedly.
(It was funny. She had starved for food once. Now she starved for want of him.)
“Head in the clouds there, as always, Rangiku-chan. What does your mind dwell on, I wonder?” asked Rin.
Rangiku started, and allowed a bright smile to bloom across her face. It was not hard to smile when there were so many people who cared. “Nothing, nothing,” she chirped quickly. “Just hungry. You know me, hungry hungry Rangiku.” She laughed.
“I see,” Rin said archly, and she began to place the food on the table.
Rangiku was fascinated with the way in which Rin spoke- her voice was melodious and unwavering, her consonants perfectly formed, and her phrasing almost aristocratic. Her eyes were a lovely violet blue, the colour of the sky in summer the instant before darkness falls, and her hair, pitch black but for a few strands of silver-gray, was styled in an elegant hime cut.
She was beautiful, stunningly beautiful, and next to her, Rangiku felt oddly clumsy; a mess. It was like comparing a bedraggled meadow daisy with a pale, perfect orchid, and her awareness of the comparison made her blush and fumble whenever she talked to the woman, who at least had the grace to pretend not to notice.
If Rin had this effect on her, Rangiku sometimes thought, then no man stood a chance. She had not known women could be like Rin.
“Did you make this all by yourself?” Rangiku asked, impressed.
It was then that she heard the clatter of the sliding door.
“Shit!” she swore dramatically, and she slid off her chair and rolled under the table. Rin arched an eyebrow, but watched on with humour dancing in her eyes.
“Where is she?” Ayame demanded.
“Who?” Rin asked with perfect composure.
“Rangiku-chan! She slapped me in the face with a dirty dish cloth and ran off, laughing all the way. She must have come up here. You know how fat and greedy she is.”
Under the table, Rangiku glared hotly.
“Did she?” Rin asked, and she smiled to herself. “Did you do anything to warrant such an attack?”
Ayame flushed. “No!.” She paused a moment. “Alright, I might have done. She even yelled ‘Strike!’ as it slapped me.” And despite herself, her lip quirked upwards. It was so ridiculous.
Rin laughed outright, and her laughter was as clear and as beautiful as a chime. Ayame’s anger collapsed, and she smiled a small smile at the absurdity.
“That girl is a marvel.” Rin said, wiping her eyes.
“You misspoke, Rin-san. I think you meant ‘monkey’. Or maybe “menace”. She’s too old for this kind of behaviour.”
The rest of the girls were beginning to filter in, some rubbing sleep from their eyes, some with the previous night’s makeup still on, some with hair tangled and still unbrushed. They eyed up the food greedily.
“Where is she anyway?” Ayame asked, far calmer this time.
Rin pointed an elegant finger to the table.
Rangiku yelped from under the table. “Rin-san! I trusted you!” Her face was a picture of betrayal.
“You can come up now, Rangiku-chan. I don’t want you to miss your meal.” Ayame sighed. “I don’t know why I put up with you.”
Rangiku surfaced, and in the process bumped her head on the table. She pondered Ayame’s words for a second. “Entertainment value?” she offered brightly, rubbing her head as she squeezed in beside Rin.
“I had to drag her from her bed this morning by her ankles,” Ayame informed the room.
“I know,” one of the other whores yawned. “I could hear you two bickering about it for about twenty minutes this morning.” She looked pointedly at Ayame.
“That was Rangiku-chan’s fault,” Ayame complained, mortified.
Rangiku shrugged carelessly, and began to dig in to her food with gusto. After a hard afternoon’s work cleaning the club, after a full night’s work on top of that, her stomach was gurgling with hunger. She piled rice high on her plate. The steam which issued from the bowl spun and twirled in the air, and she inhaled it with deep satisfaction.
Rin eyed her curiously. “Is it that good?”
“Hm?” Rangiku said, her cheeks stuffed with rice. She nodded vigorously, and swallowed. “’s so good. I was so hungry, Rin,” she said plaintively. “I needed this. Ayame-chan is a slave driver. ‘Rangiku, you need to clean the tables until I can see my face in them!’” she imitated in a squeaky impression of Ayame’s voice.
Ayame gave her a filthy look.
Rin looked at her pensively. “I’ve forgotten what it’s like to feel real hunger.”
Rangiku paused, and looked Rin earnestly in her midnight eyes. “So have I.”
Rin looked momentarily disarmed. “What do you mean? You have spiritual energy. Surely all hunger is real to you?”
Rangiku laughed loudly, and it rang out around the room. “This isn’t real hunger,” she said, as if Rin had just said the silliest thing in the world. “There was a time when I had to pick pieces of corn had been left by the animals out of the mud. I used to spend more time collapsed on the road than awake, back then.” She continued to eat on, blithely unaware of the shocked expressions around her.
Ayame looked appalled. “Animal feed?”
Rangiku gave her a look. “Leftover animal feed,” she corrected with a snort.
Across the table, Yuki, who had been listening in and who had always the most soft-hearted amongst them, looked aghast. “Did no one help you? Did no one give you food?” she asked passionately.
Rangiku, with her bright blue eyes and smiles and sunshine hair, shook her head. “Nope,” she said in a matter of fact way. “Mostly they just threw stones.”
Ayame, Rin and Yuki shared appalled looks.
Rangiku looked between them in confusion, suddenly catching on to the sudden shift in the atmosphere. She felt awkward suddenly, to have broken the warm and cheerful atmosphere of their collective meal, and she stumbled over herself to put it to rights.
Her mouth ran rampant without interference from her brain. “It’s alright though!” she said cheerfully. “I’m alright! Look! I have all this rice now,” she brandished her bowl. “This tasty, tasty rice which Rin cooked for us! And I can eat as much as I want, though Ayame will call me a fat pig if I do.”
Ayame’s expression was flat as Rangiku rambled. She would never call Rangiku fat or a pig ever again.
Rangiku continued to ramble. “-and I can go and buy mochi or red bean buns with my pay now, if I’m hungry. Didn’t get those before!”
She was aware of the eyes on her.
She closed her eyes and tried to will their looks away. She paused, and she swallowed, and her hands went to the tin ring on her finger. “There was one person,” she tried. “He-“ her voice shook, and the others all gave her variations of the same intense, pitying look. She looked down, at the ring which she could only just fit on her finger now, and she smiled softly, softly through the pain. She could barely stand to think of him, let alone talk of him “He helped me,” she finished quietly. “He helped me when no one else would.”
It barely began to touch how much he had done for her, how much he had meant to her, but it was as much as she could muster; it hurt too much to think of him, to bare secret wounds to the air.
She missed him. She missed him so much.
(But he was gone. He hadn’t wanted her anymore.)
She looked up suddenly, to see three sets of eyes trained on her. At the other end of the table, Sayaka was engrossed in conversation, her thick eyebrows waggling suggestively and her audience rapt, some giggling madly, others with their hands clasped over their mouths in disgust. Around the table, plates were emptying, and people were beginning to rise to ready themselves for the evening’s work ahead.
And by her side remained Yuki, Ayame and Rin. They looked so sombre, Rangiku thought, so sombre on her account. Because they cared. They needed her and they cared. The thought washed over her like a wave, and it filled her with warmth. She smiled sheepishly, and she ran her hand through her hair with an embarrassed laugh.
“Mou, this atmosphere-“ she began with a laugh.
Rin, dark, magnificent Rin with her hime cut and her consonants like cut glass, put her hand on her head gently. Yuki put her soft, just-beginning to line hand, on top of hers. Ayame, with her huffs and her fussiness, gripped the other. Rangiku’s mouth formed an “o” in surprise.
“As long as you’re here, you will never hunger again,” Rin stated, and coming from her mouth, it sounded like a promise. “You will always have help here if you ask.”
Ayame’s eyes were fierce and she squeezed her hand; Yuki’s, usually so soft, were steely.
The world blurred; Rangiku’s heart ached, suddenly.
“And you,” she promised quietly, looking around at them fiercely. “I’m going to look after you. All of you. I promise.”
8 notes ¡ View notes
ramzawrites ¡ 4 years ago
Note
can i request an angsty sbi fic where sibling reader lost two lives saving others (maybe tubbo at the festival?) and they see everything falling apart (techno and phil destroying everything, wilbur dead and tommy focused on the disks) and they pretend to be ok while their mental health gets worse and worse until they decide to end it, and people only realise they weren't okay after the death message pops up and their reactions to seeing it? if not thats completely fine, ik its pretty heavy
Broken
GN
Pairings: none
Characters included: Wilbur, Tommy, Philza, Tubbo, Technoblade
Warnings: depression, suicide (falling, non descriptive), angst
Series: a request!
Summary: Y/N just wanted their home back. They just wanted to live a peaceful life but instead all their hopes and dreams got ripped apart by the people they loved the most.
Words count: 3647
Authors Note: Honestly I could have shortened it quite a bit but here we are, it’s way longer than I wanted but I hope you guys enjoy this. I’m sorry if this went kind off of rails to what you might have envisioned. Also I hope that you guys know that you are loved and appreciated. I appreciate you for taking the time to read my stuff :] Here is m favorite video to cheer me up some times, hope it can cheer you up as well!
I’m also curious what your guys thoughts and opinion are on this or my writing in general! Can’t get better without feedback :]
Y/N loved their family.
They were all pretty chaotic but so was Y/N, following their siblings into trouble ignoring any possible consequences.
So when Wilbur proclaimed he would create an independent Nation inside the SMP that was owned by Dream himself, you bet that Y/N was standing right beside him.
When Wilbur would struggle with his tasks or was weighed down by doubts they would swoop right in and do their best to support him. Every time Wilbur would say “I don’t know what I would do without you sometimes.” While Y/N didn’t do it for praise but out of love for him it was still nice knowing that he appreciated them and that he took note of their work.
Tommy wasn’t really for heartfelt words but he too expressed in his own way how much he appreciated them being around. Most of his schemes wouldn’t have even happened without Y/N’s help after all. As a way to say thanks he would let them just take stuff fout his chets or when he heard they needed a specific resource he would wander out and get it for them. Of course saying something on the lines of “I was out there anyhow, so I brought some with me. It was on the way.” Y/N could read between the lines though. They grew up with him after all.
Y/N put so much energy into L’Manberg they couldn’t help but be in love with this little nation. They would do everything to protect their home.
When Y/N lost their first life it was together with their siblings protecting their nephew Fundy.
The Dream Team suddenly retreated after another battle against L’Manberg. While the group was celebrating what they thought was their first victory in ages, Eret appeared. She told the group of a small bunker with more resources.
Still celebrating Wilbur, Y/N, Tommy, Tubbo and Fundy made their way towards the bunker. The bunker that would later go down into history as “The Final Control Room.”
Inside they all looked at the labeled chests only to notice that they were empty. Eret then pressed a button which opened up secret walls with the Dream Team standing behind. She herself got into safety as Dream and his friends merciless attacked the L’Manberg faction.
As soon as Y/N understood what was happening they did their best to form a wall between the attackers and Fundy. Slowly pushing him out of the room while they made sure to block the exit, giving the Fox Hybrid enough time to run away.
When they woke up again it was inside their home. In L’Manberg. Sore from the respawning.
Once they did respawn though it didn’t take long for Fundy to barge into their room and throw himself against them, thanking them. Wilbur was close by, looking worse for wear as well but incredible thankful nonetheless.
After that and a few battles more Tommy challenged Dream to a duel in order to secure independence. He lost so instead he bartered his music discs for freedom.
After Tommy respawned a second time Y/N made sure to spent most of their time hovering around him. Making sure he was doing alright.
But with that L’Manberg was independent and it was Y/N’s time to shine. Sure, they worked hard on strengthening the infrastructure of the nation but now, maybe even because of that, they basically coordinated all the new builds.
Shops, homes and other things were being build with them overseeing it. Meanwhile Wilbur and Tommy took care of the political part only to come to the conclusion that they had to have a proper election.
At first it started innocently enough as well. New political parties were made that begun advertising themselves. Funny enough they would always come to Y/N asking them where they could hang up their posters. It was then that Y/N realized that the people saw them as some sort of authority, even asking them if they wanted to start their own campaign. They politely declined, saying they worked best as a support role.
Then Schlatt entered the stage and everything got thrown upside down.
In the end he managed to become the next president via a coalition and his first declaration as the president, or emperor as he called himself, was to exile Tommy and Wilbur.
As they ran for their life Y/N didn’t hesitate to follow. It hurt them so much to leave L’Manberg, their fruit and labor, behind. This only got worse once they realized that Tubbo was basically left alone back at the city under Schlatt’s rule.
Then Pogtopia got established.
Tommy, Wilbur and Y/N did their best to get a proper foothold again. Gathering resources and planning for ways to get their home back. And to accomplish this they soon called in the oldest sibling of the group, Technoblade.
Techno has been away for the longest time now. He moved out early to travel the world and apparently train himself. Somehow Tommy found a way to get a message to him, so he made his way towards Pogtopia.
He wasn’t big on words or emotions but as soon as he arrived he let Y/N hug him.
“This is a onetime deal, Y/N.”
With Techno they finally felt like they had a chance. Y/N could maybe return home someday. Back when they were children Techno always looked out for them so to have him back Y/N felt infinitely safer.
All the while Wilbur showed more and more signs that his mental health was rapidly declining. Y/N did their best trying to cheer him up but there was only so much they could do. Especially since they themself were struggling.
L’Manberg was their everything and now it was under the iron rule of Schlatt. They had to watch as Schlatt walked through the nation, ripping apart builds that they commissioned or even built themself. Every time he did something like that it felt like another stab wound directly into their heart.
Then the festival happened where Y/N lost their second life protecting Tubbo.
Schlatt wanted to apparently celebrate democracy and his amazing rule. Tommy and Wilbur weren’t allowed to join while Techno and Y/N received an invitation.
Y/N was very wary of that. They learned from Tubbo that Schlatt apparently was pretty interested in bringing them over to Manberg since a lot of the residents trusted them and saw them more as an authority than Schlatt himself, so bringing them over would probably also bring a lot of the residents around to his rule.
On the day of the festival Y/N made sure to stay close to Techno. Holding on to his arm and basically hiding behind him, not feeling up to talk with all the people in Manberg.
The people were happy to see them but Y/N was tired. They haven’t slept properly ever since the exile, too many thoughts that kept them awake.
Then the speeches started.
Honestly Y/N wasn’t really listening, their attention purely on a broken old building. It used to be the place where Y/N and the other residents would meet up and map out their plans for new builds. Discussing and even sometimes arguing on what materials should be used and where to get them. Now it was empty.
Their attention got pulled back towards what was actually happening once Tubbo begun speaking. It was a nice little speech Y/N had to admit.
Just as Tubbo was about to leave, Schlatt moved back in. Holding him in place and pushing him in something that Y/N had to describe as a cage with the help of Quackity.
“Techno, buddy. Come up here for a sec.”
Technoblade tensed up but still moved towards the stage. There Schlatt uttered the words that pulled the rug out from beneath Y/N once again.
“Kill him Techno. He is a traitor.”
“Don’t you dare!” Y/N yelled out, making their way towards the stage as well.
Y/N knew Techno couldn’t deal well with social pressure, especially when there were about ten people or more behind him that could attack him at any point.
Tubbo looked so scared as he pressed himself against the wall. There was no escape for him.
When Techno moved his crossbow up, aiming directly at Tubbo, Y/N let out another scream. Urging him to stop.
Explosions. Colorful explosions filled the place.
“Y/N!” it was Tubbo screaming their name out.
Just as Techno pressed the trigger Y/N managed to jump in front, the rockets hitting them instead of Tubbo.
Their older brother looked absolutely mortified “Y/N? Wha- What? Why? How?” staring at Y/N’s lifeless body that slowly dissolved. They were slowly respawning but seeing his siblings body was enough to send him in some sort of frenzy.
Filled with bloodlust he aimed his crossbow towards Schlatt and Quackity. Killing them with one press of the trigger only to turn around and aim his crossbow towards the people.
As this happened Tommy enderpearled over, screaming at Techno.
He helped Tubbo out of the cage who was still in a state of shock. He only saw Y/N for a second and the next they were laying on the ground in their own blood.
Y/N heard the details later after they respawned. Tommy had apparently been incredibly angry at Techno, even attacking him. Wilbur then offered that the two deal with their argument via a fistfight inside a pit.
Normally Y/N would have yelled at Wilbur for that. Would have told him that this was his dumbest idea yet but they were too shook from what had happened to them.
Technoblade always spelled safety to them but he killed them. Sure, he meant to kill Tubbo but that didn’t really make it any better. They gave him an out, they would have helped fighting off all these people so they could flee.
The next time they saw Techno they flinched every time he got too close to them and yet they still put on a smile “Never, do this again.”
Techno only nodded.
After this downward slope the momentum didn’t seem to stop for them. Wilbur dropped even more and more off. Falling victim to his paranoia. Y/N tried their best convincing him to not blow up Manberg, that they will fight to gain it back. At this point trying to gain back their L’Manberg was the only thing they could hold on to.
Though all that work was for nothing.
The war to take back L’Manberg went way differently than they all had imagined. Y/N fought with a viciousness most didn’t think they had it in them. This was the day for them to finally regain what they had wished for, for the longest time now.
Everything came to a halt once Dream surrendered. He showed them Schlatt who was sitting in the Carmavan. Drunk off his mind he yelled and screamed at people only to die of a heart attack which meant that the Pogtopia faction won.
The people begun cheering, they had their home back! They were free! Y/N was probably the loudest by far. It felt like a huge weight was lifted from their shoulders. All this hardship and they could finally return to working with the others and rebuild L’Manberg. Return it to its former glory.
Tubbo got appointed President and Y/N was happy with it. Tubbo had an eye for building and was a good person, with him they were sure they could do some amazing things.
Apparently Techno thought otherwise. Instead he pulled Soulsand out, holding onto the Wither skulls as a visible threat.
Y/N had somewhat forgiven Techno for what had happened. It was a stressful situation and they acknowledged it but seeing him there, threatening to kill all of them? That they knew they couldn’t forgive quite so easy. Especially since he made some sound points but it was their L’Manberg. The people didn’t like living under Schlatt’s rule, this wasn’t something that could be described simply as a coup. Technically he was right but only technically. There were so many things that came into play that could let you argue over that but Techno would have none of it. Yelling something about Tommy only wanting to be a hero.
When the first explosions rang Y/N thought it came from a Wither but Techno was still in the middle of putting the heads onto the structure.
When more explosions rang and the ground beneath their feet broke away, Y/N understood what had happened.
At some point Wilbur ran off and must have pressed the button. The button that set the TNT beneath the city ablaze, effectively destroying everything.
Y/N was too busy with finding hard ground again and then dealing with the Withers and Techno that they only noticed after the fighting ended, how broken the nation was now.
They had won. Why would Wilbur do this? He knew how much the nation meant to them and again, they had won, so there was no reason for blowing the place up!
And if that wasn’t enough to see how both their older brothers destroyed everything Y/N worked for, they also had to see how Philza, their father, stood next to the corpse of Wilbur. It felt like they lost everything.
They lost their trust in Technoblade.
They lost their hopes and dreams via Wilbur blowing up the freshly liberated L’Manberg.
They lost their trust in their own father who had slain his own son.
Y/N felt absolutely crushed. Family was so important to them and it was their own family that destroyed their hopes and dreams. They did everything for them and this is how they repaid them?
Once everything calmed down and Tubbo begun making plans on how to rebuild the nation, he immediately came to Y/N for help but they hesitated which worried him.
“Is everything okay? Usually you would have jumped on that offer, Y/N.”
Y/N put on a smile that didn’t seem to reach their eyes “Don’t worry Tubbo, of course I’ll help you. I’m just tired from what we have been through. I finally have time to take a breather and I think it all just crashed down on me.”
“Well if you ever need help you can talk to me.” It was an earnest offer that Y/N would never take advantage of.
Y/N mostly ignored Philza. He talked with them a few times and even explained what has happened but Y/N still made a wide berth around him. Seeing him just hammered back down the feeling of distrust and hurt. Their familial relationship took a hard hit from that point on.
With Ghostbur it was a weird situation as well. They enjoyed spending time with him but were also always incredibly sad around him. Ghostbur took notice of this and would always offer them to take some of his blue but Y/N declined every time.
“Don’t worry Ghostbur. Everything is still just fresh in my mind. I’ll be back to my old self in no time. You take care of yourself, you hear?”
“Of course Y/N! You have always looked out for me, thank you.”
L’Manberg slowly took on a proper form again but it wasn’t the L’Manberg Y/N knew. It felt to them like they were standing on top of a grave. A grave for their dreams and it was getting hard, real hard, to walk through it every day seeing places where they know specific buildings should be standing. Buildings they build on their own only to be destroyed by their brothers doing.
Then Tubbo exiled Tommy and Y/N felt conflicted. They felt obligated to stay in L’Manberg since they were the main person people came to for builds but that was their brother. Their only brother they still trusted and felt a need to protect.
Instead of following him into exile they stayed in the city. Visiting Tommy whenever they could, noticing pretty fast that he was struggling hard with his situation and for once they didn’t feel strong enough to properly support him. Y/N tried their best but once they noticed they couldn’t reach him completely they gave up a tiny bit.
It reminded them too much of Wilbur.
So while they visited him and helped them where they could, they spent more and more time alone in their home only coming out for work and other necessary things like food. Soon it was normal to see them with ever present dark circles beneath their eyes.
Before Philza disappeared to join Techno, he would stop by Y/N’s home all the time.
“Have you eaten, yet?”
“Yes, dad. I’m an adult. I can take care of myself.”
“I just haven’t seen you much lately and I got worried.”
“Don’t worry. I’m fine. Hey, if you go out, please, can you tell Ghostbur to stop coming around to throw Blue inside my mailbox? He won’t listen to me but perhaps he will to you.” And they would always carry the same big smile on their face accompanied by empty eyes.
The only time their happiness reached their eyes again was when Tommy returned from his exile. They crashed into their younger sibling holding him close to them and muttering apologies. He pried them off, embarrassed by all of this.
This short bout of happiness was destroyed by Doomsday. Dream, Technoblade and Philza once again made sure to set L’Manberg ablaze.
The second time Y/N’s fruits and labor got completely annihilated by their family but still they had some hopes this time. They still had Tommy on their side they could just finally build a home somewhere else and live in peace but Tommy had other ideas. He had it in his mind to get his discs back and he would do anything for it.
So while Y/N tried to ground themself with new hopes and ideas, holding onto the only constant of what was important to them, that being Tommy, Tommy ignored them. He was too busy with his own things and the worst part was that Y/N couldn’t even fault him for it.
They understood how much these discs meant to him and that this was something that had to come to an end but with this they lost another, and possibly their last, anchor point.
Yet you could still see them running around with a smile, tending to every one and trying to help out the best they could.
Then suddenly they were gone. They just disappeared one day. The few people who took note of that took some time to look around but there was no sign as to where they left. Y/N didn’t take their armor with them nor any weapons or food.
< Y/N succumbed to despair and fell of a high place>
When every ones communicators rung out with this message the SMP fell quiet.
Tommy couldn’t believe what he was reading. This didn’t make any sense. Y/N was fine! They would talk with them and everything looked fine! This must have been a cruel joke from Dream somehow, right? This couldn’t be real. Why would Dream do this? This didn’t seem to make sense.
Exactly there was no sense in Dream doing this.
While Tommy was battling with his thoughts Tubbo came running over to him. Tears streamed down his face.
��What happened? Why did this happen? Where are they?”
Tommy was visibly shaking “I- I have no idea. I don’t know. They looked fine. I’m- I’m not sure. Tubbo-��
Tubbo just slammed into him, giving him a proper hug, trying his best to help Tommy through his rising panic. He lost another sibling and by Ender that hurt.
Meanwhile in the snowy Tundra both Philza and Techno were staring at their communicators as well.
Philza was pale. So pale it almost rivaled the snow around him.
Techno had his brows furrowed. For anyone who didn’t know him well enough he looked at best displeased with this situation but Philza could see the small details that told a different story. Him sucking his breath in as he read the message, hiding his quivering lip in his cloak. He was heartbroken.
Sure the two weren’t on good speaking terms but Y/N was still his younger sibling. He still loved them.
Philza felt similar. He acknowledged that he screwed up and honored their wish to be left alone by him but he never imagined this could lead to their death. His knees buckled and he sank to the ground. Two of his children died, one directly by his hand and the other due to his inaction.
His eyes glossed over, the world became a blur and yet he continued rereading this message over and over. Y/N just lost their last life.
Philza could hear Techno walk closer to him and sat down on the ground as well.
“Y/N is-“ Philza begun but he didn’t know what he wanted to say. State the obvious to his eldest son?
“I have more fault in this than you, dad. Don’t feel guilty.” His voice was uncharacteristically weak. Wavering as he spoke. He wanted to cheer Philza up but it was a weak attempt.
“What have we done.”
Ghostbur was at first confused when he read the message. It was like he couldn’t connect the dots but it slowly dawned on him what this meant.
“Oh my.” His usual happy demeanor was suddenly gone.
He touched his face and as he put his hands back down he saw how they were smeared with blue.
“Y/N is dead?”
His usual ghost behavior seemed to break a bit. It was like through the warped version of Wilbur that was called Ghostbur for a moment the true version of him came through again. And he was hurt. Devastated.
“I think I need to find the others.” He mumbled to himself, making his way towards his family. All the while he held onto the blue wool of Friend like a lifeline. Combing through it nervously. Blue continuing to spill from his eyes.
1K notes ¡ View notes
spencers-renaissance ¡ 4 years ago
Text
Rain is a Chance to be Touched Ch.1
this arid world has turned my deep heart dry
This is the first chapter in my new ongoing hotchreid fic! Please click here for the fic summary, full tags, trigger warnings, more information etc.
Chapter Summary: follows S5E1 and Spencer's depression and disordered thinking is introduced.
TW: depression, disordered thinking, loneliness, the events of s5e1 (guns and knives)
Word Count: 3.4k
RCT Masterlist // Main Masterlist // Read on AO3
SPENCER
"She simply said this arid world has turned her deep heart dry, there was just one way she knew of to finally feel like she was free, and it was 1400 feet beneath the cold and stormy sea." — Erin Hanson
Spencer’s entire body feels heavy as he drags himself into work, and it’s not exactly a good sign when he can’t even find the energy to press the button for the right floor; he just stares pitifully at the array of numbers as if the elevator will read his mind and resolve the issue for him. Eventually, he brings himself to move his finger the short distance, cold metal colliding with cold flesh, and the doors shudder close, catapulting him up several storeys towards his fate.
Some might call the emotions Spencer’s experience typical burnout, far too common in the FBI and even more so in units that deal directly with horrific crime on the regular, but he knows it’s more than that. His entire life is operating in a minor key, he’s functioning entirely on auto-pilot, and chunks of his day are a blur, almost impossible to recall. He knows he’s depressed. Knowing such a fact, however, does little to cure the actual problem. He has no idea what to do with information like this except bottle it up and shove it as far down as possible while pretending as much as possible that absolutely everything is fine.
Emily and Derek are laughing about something as he approaches their group of desks. Only weeks ago he would’ve been crushed when they don’t so much as look over to say hello, but now he’s glad to not have to fake a smile, invent a story to tell about his weekend, pretend he’s not currently being held together with slowly peeling sellotape.
Instead, he focuses on feeling grateful that no one’s commented on him arriving a whole hour later than he used to as he unpacks his messenger bag. It’s not like it’s his fault he can’t pull his exhausted body out of bed in the morning, but since he’d rather not disclose such sorry information and finding an excuse is way too much effort, spending the morning in solitude seems the only option.
He doesn’t really understand how he’s gone from being a genuinely happy person, thick as thieves with everybody on the team, to this. It’s almost as though somebody’s cut the rope tying him to the others and now he’s drifting away, sinking without everyone else’s buoyancy to keep him afloat. He can see them all still tied together, barely seeming to notice their drowning team member, clearly not missing his presence.
This misery over his inevitable isolation, though, is his own fault: he can’t believe he let himself forget his place. He’s useful, good to keep around for his intelligence, his reading speed, his problem-solving skills, but it doesn’t go beyond that. Spencer is not friendship material. And he certainly isn’t relationship material.
The day starts off slow, everyone burying themselves in their paperwork, but Spencer finishes it far too quickly for it to really serve as much of a distraction. Depressingly, it’s still miles slower than he’s used to. Since his pile of consults seems too exhausting to even look at, he decides another coffee is very much in order.
“Hey, Spence,” JJ says happily as soon as he pushes his way into the breakroom. She’s leaning casually against the counter as she drinks her coffee, reading through what looks like case notes at the same time.
“Hi,” he says, trying for a smile but he knows there’s no way he could possibly match her relaxed grin. Instead of trying to converse, he just heads straight for the coffee machine, fixing his eyes on the steady stream of coffee pouring into his mug already piled high with sugar.
“You alright?” JJ asks, sounding a little suspicious. Not concerned, Spencer notes, just suspicious.
“Hmm?” He looks up and catches her eye before deciding he should probably answer verbally. “Yeah, yeah I’m good.”
“Are you sure? You’ve been acting a bit off the past few weeks.”
Spencer sighs. Maybe this is an opportunity to actually communicate his feelings. He doubts JJ will be able to help but really he’d just like a bit of comfort: he’s in so much pain that a hug would feel really nice right now. And besides Penelope, she’s probably the team member he’s most comfortable with. If he’s going to share with anybody, it should be JJ.
“I’ve been having a bit of a hard time, I guess,” he admits, looking up as his left-hand fidgets on the hot ceramic side of his coffee mug. He resents how vulnerable his voice sounds, he’s giving far too much of himself over to hands he’s not sure he can trust, but there’s nothing he can do about that now.
“Really?” JJ sounds surprised. Spencer recognises the tone as that of anyone who has a certain perspective on him realising that he also has feelings alongside his intelligence, and it hurts. “I’m sorry, Spence.”
Spencer just presses his lips into a thin line and nods awkwardly in thanks.
“I mean… at least you’re not going through what Hotch is,” she offers, completely unhelpfully. “He’s still trying to cope with his divorce and isn’t seeing Jack as much as he used to. Derek was almost killed by the Reaper just a few months ago, Emily only recently lost a childhood friend — I mean, the whole team has been through a lot. Keep your chin up.”
She smiles at him, patting him on the shoulder, before leaving the break room and heading back to her office, leaving Spencer standing in the middle of the room like an idiot. He wants to shout that he was literally poisoned with anthrax only a month ago, if they’re tallying bad things happening as a method of tracking who has the right to be miserable. The others might be going through a lot, that’s true, but it doesn’t lessen any of the pain thudding in his chest and stirring in his stomach.
As he walks back to his desk, he realises he’s learned one thing: opening up = not a good idea.
As completely fucking miserable as he might be, there’s exactly one person in this world who doesn’t deserve to be burdened with any of it, so he carefully tucks it away in his pockets and plasters on the mask he’d perfected so many years ago. It might be a little rusty, after all, it’s been little used in recent years, but it works just as well as it used to do when he pushes the door open to Penelope’s office.
“I bring blueberry muffins,” he says as cheerfully as he can muster, and something inside him does warm as Penelope’s face lights up, squealing a little as she reaches her arms out eagerly, making grabby hands at the paper bag he’s holding.
“Oh, you have no idea how much I love you,” she moans, keen to rip the bag open as he pulls up a chair next to hers.
“I think I do,” Spencer chuckles, and it’s one of the only genuine reactions he’s given in months, “mostly because you tell me every day.”
“Mm, that’s right,” she concedes through a mouthful of warm muffin, pointing a finger at his chest. “I love you even more than I love coding.”
“That’s a lot,” Spencer says, trying for serious but he can’t stop a fond smile slipping across his face.
Penelope swallows her rather large bite of blueberry muffin and passes him his one. “It is,” she says. “How are you, anyway? You look tired, poor baby.”
Spencer looks down for a moment, schooling his expression for a second before he forces himself to look back up at her. “Yeah, I didn’t… didn’t sleep well last night, I guess.” He tries for a reassuring smile but he knows it’s more of a grimace.
Penelope’s face immediately morphs into one of grave concern. Spencer knows that that’s just the way she is, melodrama and fierce protectiveness is virtually her brand at this point, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t any less agonising to see, or the anxiety of being found out any less paralysing. He decides not to give her any room to actually address it.
“I’ll be fine, Penelope, don’t worry,” he says, turning away to brush some muffin crumbs off the desk and into his hand, purely so he doesn’t have to attempt another pathetic smile. “A good night’s sleep tonight will fix me right up.”
“Are you sure?” she asks, still looking far too worried for Spencer’s liking.
“Of course, Pen.” He feels sick at lying to her, but he has no idea how to broach any of the tumultuous emotions raging inside of him, especially after JJ shut him down so brutally. “It’s only a bad nights’ sleep.”
He’s saved from her inevitable continued line of questioning by Emily poking her head round the door and asking for Spencer’s opinion on a consult.
While getting out of bed in the morning might be an almost impossible task at the moment, the idea of getting into it at night seems rather depressing, really. That’s probably the reason he’s still at the office, despite the time nearing 8 o’clock and exhaustion settling into every muscle fibre of his being. It has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that it’s just a little more time in close proximity to one Aaron Hotchner.
Of course, he’d had to accept the fact that he was maybe, just a little bit in love with his boss a long time ago. He just refuses to admit that he’s this embarrassing about it. Perhaps staying late to spend more time with someone you like this much wouldn’t be so weird if there was a reasonable chance of conversation — if he ever even saw him — but there isn’t even that: Spencer sits and works quietly at his desk, Aaron sits and works quietly in his office.
Today, though, today his lingering finally pays off.
Aaron is on his way back from the photocopier when he stops by Spencer’s desk. He doesn’t see him coming, though, is the thing: he has no time to try and make himself look even a smidge less miserable or to school his surprised yet utterly lovesick expression.
“Won’t you want to be heading off soon, Reid?” he asks, clearly curious as to why Spencer remains at his desk when there’s no real work to be doing, but he cleverly paints it in a light-hearted tone. Even though Spencer is completely aware of what Aaron’s doing, he doesn’t feel attacked or under pressure.
“Oh,” Spencer says unintelligently, stammering a little as he scrambles desperately at a somewhat coherent reply, “yes, yeah, I’ll get going soon.” He doesn’t want to lie when he doesn’t have to, so he doesn’t try and offer an explanation for his staying late, and he knows Aaron won’t push. He manages an almost entirely genuine smile, though, which must count for something, even if it’s only because he’s hopelessly in love with the man leaning casually against his desk.
“Right then,” Aaron says, offering a small smile in response, letting his hard exterior drop in the nearly empty office, and even though it’s nothing special, not really, Spencer carefully files it away as his heart pitter-patters against his ribcage and his stomach pools with warmth. “See you tomorrow, Reid.”
Spencer just nods in response and gathers his things, placing them carefully in his messenger bag and shrugging his jacket on before walking out of the building. When he glances back, just as he pulls the glass door open, Aaron is watching him carefully. He doesn’t turn away but instead offers a small wave, which Spencer returns bashfully, blushing scarlet in the elevator and on the walk out of the HQ and during the whole trek down the street and sat on the metro train and on the final stretch home. He fumbles with his keys and curses himself for being so goddamn pathetic.
He doesn’t consider it for long, though, because he’s utterly exhausted and his tired bones collapse on the sofa, and who is he to try and get them to move again? Sleep is a mercy.
🌧
The case is gruelling and stressful enough without the endless and constant worry about where on earth Aaron is. He never turns his phone off and Spencer can’t think of a time he’s worked a case without him, not properly; he’s always the first one at the office, the first one on the plane, the first to jump out of bed towards the chance to make a real difference in the world. It’s so out of character for him and it’s utterly distressing.
Nevertheless, he focuses all his attention on the job; on protecting Jeffrey and Tom Barton, on bringing justice to the perpetrator when they inevitably find them. He offers lame and desperate excuses for Aaron not being there, all the while knowing full well that none of them are likely. Something is wrong and he’s powerless to help.
Emily tells him why. He sort of forgets how to breathe.
Getting shot in the leg while simultaneously petrified for the livelihood of the person you’re in love with is inconvenient at best when trying to talk down an unsub and protect a victim and eventually fatal at worst, but somehow he half-manages and Tom escapes unscathed, though he isn’t quite as lucky with the unsub.
That’s what matters, really, isn’t it? That others are safe, even if it means he’s in danger? After all, Tom Barton has lives to save and a son to raise, a wide social circle, and a loving family. What does Spencer have? No, it’s much better that he’s the one hurt than anyone else.
Of course, once the adrenaline of the situation starts to wear off and medics arrive on scene, he realises quite how badly he’s hurt. Already feeling woozy, energy seems to seep out of him as roaring, raging agony takes its place. It’s the first time he’s ever been shot and it’s worse than he could have imagined: no amount of studying literature and anecdotal evidence could prepare him for the feeling of a small metal ball tearing through the flesh and muscle and tendons — though, hopefully, and judging by the amount of blood he’s lost, no arteries or large blood vessels — of his thigh.
His team arrives, minus Emily and minus Hotch, and they’re concerned, of course they are. That is, until he presents them with someone they see as much more important, someone whose life is worth something, someone they care about deeply being hurt. And they leave.
He doesn’t get a chance to tell the medics that he doesn’t want narcotics, so the ride to the hospital is a blur of morphine and voices talking to him, though he can’t quite piece together what they’re saying. He wonders vaguely where everybody is, whether Hotch is alright, whether he’s about to die, but no real emotion is attached to any of these thoughts, they just… are.
He’s rushed into surgery almost immediately after he arrives at the hospital, and the next thing he’s aware of is a dull, ever-present, agonising ache in his upper thigh and exhaustion settled into his bones like his body is pain’s home, fatigue’s resting place. The last time he’d blinked himself awake in a hospital bed, blinding pain burning in one part of his body or another, Derek had been sat by his bed, eating jello.
There’s nobody by his bed this time.
A PCA pump is resting by his right hand but he doesn’t touch it. Clearly, nobody from his team has informed the hospital staff of his previous addiction; he doesn’t even know if they’re at the hospital; if they know what’s going on. The morphine he’s already had is going to be hard enough to deal with, he can feel the future cravings itching beneath his skin already, scarred-over track marks simmering away.
It’s over twenty-five minutes of lying helplessly on a hospital bed in a cool, impersonal room, feeling a certain kind of emptiness sitting in his stomach, before a nurse comes by. She looks pleased enough to see him awake, but he doesn’t care about her satisfaction, he cares about his team, about Penelope, about Aaron, and he’s too exhausted to do anything about it.
“Good, you’re awake,” she says cheerily and for once, he doesn’t try and conceal his despondency. It’s oddly freeing. “I’ll get the doctor to come and explain the situation.”
She bumbles out of the room, clearly not fazed by Spencer’s expression, so he resumes staring at the wall, allowing his thoughts to wander, still not managing to attach much emotion to them other than a miserable sort of emptiness.
The doctor is nice enough, making sure he understands his injury and the procedures he’s had done, as well as the recovery ahead of him, but he just can’t bring himself to care. It’s as though this is the last straw; this is the proof, the evidence to win the case he’s been fighting in the court of his mind. His team doesn't care. His life is worthless. He will always, always be alone.
JJ stops by briefly. This feels like it should be a consolation, but it isn’t. He learns of what’s happened to Aaron, what his family is going through, and suddenly he feels selfish: how dare he demand and crave attention when Aaron is far more hurt and injured than he is? When he’s far more important and far more deserving of the team’s attention? Self-loathing creeps up his throat and settles into grey cotton wool that won’t melt in his mouth.
Spencer doesn’t know how to react to the incredibly overwhelming events of the day, and JJ doesn’t seem to have time for this. “Right, Spencer,” she says, visibly impatient with his emotional floundering, his lack of verbal response, “I need to go. We need to sort this out for Hotch. We owe it to him.”
She leaves, and all Spencer can think is how much more worthless not being able to work on his case makes him. If he can’t even work to save the man he loves; if he can’t strive effortlessly to protect him and make him happy, then what is he doing here? Aaron will be furious when he finds out Spencer laid in bed lazily instead of diving headfirst into the case.
No. That’s not true. He’ll be sickeningly nice about it, while on the inside suppressing his disappointment, and Spencer will feel even more guilty, he’ll be even more irate with himself, and life will seem just a little bit bleaker.
He’s discharged a few days later, and nobody has visited, barring JJ’s fleeting, impatient stop by. He goes home in a taxi and struggles up the stairs on his crutches, almost glad he didn’t have many personal items at the hospital. Then again, that was because he was completely isolated. And if he did have people to bring him things in the hospital, then he’d probably have someone to help him up the stairs too.
It’s a moot point, really. He dives straight for the non-narcotic painkillers he’d been prescribed as soon as he sits down on his dusty couch in his messy apartment, desperate to relieve at least some of the agony throbbing in his leg still. Clearly, the universe decided he wasn’t in enough pain already; that the unrequited love and the growing depression and the recurring stomach cramps and clenches in his chest weren’t quite sufficient.
He knows the team is working flat out on the Foyet case. But even Penelope, who probably works the hardest of all of them, has had time to send him an encouraging text message promising to pop round as soon as she can. Other than that, his phone is dry and his heart slowly freezing over.
Truthfully, he’s not sure how much more of this he can stand. He’s feeling the same way he did as a child: isolated, othered, hurt, and utterly, utterly alone. When he’d joined the BAU and was welcomed immediately into the arms of a family, he promised himself he’d never feel like that again. He would never, ever allow himself to sink so low; not when he was surrounded by so many people who proved day in day out how much they loved him. Surely, feeling like this would simply be impossible.
For once, Doctor Spencer Reid is proved wrong. And it burns, festers, and screams like nothing else.
Chapter Two
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bowsie22 ¡ 3 years ago
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Pingxie Collection 3
Summary: Wu Xie is rescued, continuation of chapter 1. Warnings for discussion of torture
The Wang headquarters were imposing. Multiple walls and gates, armed guards, cameras. It was impossible to penetrate. Thankfully Wu Xie had a lot of friends. And a very wealthy uncle with some less than savoury friends himself.
The plan was simple. Xiaoge, Pangzi, Xiao Hua and Heiye would infiltrate the compound to find and rescue Wu Xie. Sanshu and Pan Zi would lead the men hired by Xiao Hua, Xiu Xiu and Erbai in a full-frontal assault, hopefully distracting the majority of the Wangs. Erbai and Xiu Xiu were waiting in an armoured vehicle nearby, ready to drive Wu Xie to safety.
Looking at the walls looming in front of him, Pangzi chuckled nervously. Nudging Heiye next him, “Hey, do we really think we can get through this? We don’t know what’s waiting inside.” Heiye smirked, gesturing at Xiaoge beside him, “They don’t know what’s waiting out here.” Xiaoge glared at the walls in front of them, eyes narrowed and jaw clenched. Looking down, Pangzi realised Xiaoge’s knuckles were white from how tightly he was gripping his sword.
Feeling slightly more confident, Pangzi said a quick prayer before following Xiaoge to back of the compound. There was a weak spot here that Pangzi could blast a hole in, creating their entrance. Behind him, Pan Zi set off the flare that was the agreed signal to start the attack. The Wangs had made a fatal error in taking Wu Xie. And now, they were going to pay for it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Pangzi thought he had seen Xiaoge and Heiye fight before, but that was nothing compared to now. They took no prisoners, Xiaoge quickly slicing down anyone who got in his way, Heiye taking out those he missed. Pangzi and Xiao Hua trailed behind them, shooting anyone who tried to sneak up on their friends.
Xiaoge was brutal. He barely even looked at the people he killed before moving onto the next one, trusting the others kill any he may have left alive. His only concern was finding Wu Xie and getting him away from the Wangs, nothing else mattered right now.
Heiye had never been afraid of Xiaoge, but watching him now, he could understand why people were. The other man was merciless, his blade slicing through necks, chests, stomachs, whatever necessary to kill the person in front of him. Uncaring of the blood dripping from his sword, the man moved forward, never stopping, never slowing down. He was a machine. And he was terrifying. Not for the first time, Heiye was glad that Xiaoge was on their side.
Xiao Hua had not expected this. He knew that Xiaoge was dangerous, had seen the man fight people and creatures in tombs. But this complete and total disregard for human life was something different. As far as Xiao Hua could see, Xiaoge had switched off his humanity. He wasn’t Xiaoge, Wu Xie’s boyfriend and part time florist. This was Zhang Qiling, trained since birth to kill and would do it without a moment’s hesitation. He was a weapon.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Wu Xie glared at the man in front of him. He resisted the urge to spit into the other’s face, knowing the pain that would follow if he did. “You know this could all end if you just tell us where the copper fish is.” Wu Xie said nothing. What could he say? He didn’t know where this thing was, and the Wangs weren’t believing him.
He could admit though that the Wangs were good at torture. They started with a beating, concentrating on the face, hard enough to hurt, but not enough to cause any serious damage. The next one was skilful with a knife, leaving shallow cuts on Wu Xie’s skin. They were painful but he wouldn’t bleed to death any time soon. And then came the waterboarding. It was quick, over in a matter of minutes but Wu Xie knew he wouldn’t be comfortable in water for a while.
And even after all this, Wu Xie still said nothing about that fish. He knew that the Wangs were getting annoyed, could see it in the faces and body language of those who fed him and gave him water to drink. They didn’t want him dead, they just wanted him to hurt.
“I’ve told you a thousand times that I have no idea where it is. I don’t even know what it is.” The man growled, reaching out to grab Wu Xie’s hair and yank his head back. The was a very dirty ceiling Wu Xie thought to himself. “Wu Xie, we can do this as long as we need to. We are experts at breaking our prisoners. Sooner or later, we will get the answer from you.” Wu Xie couldn’t stop the eye roll. This guy just didn’t get it, did he? He heard the door open which was odd. Normally when this man, who Wu Xie assumed was their leader, was in the room, it was only him there. Peering over the broad shoulder, Wu Xie couldn’t stop the smile from spreading over his face, wincing as it pulled at the numerous cuts and bruises.
“He might be able to tell you where it is.”
Xiaoge stood in the doorway, glaring at the Wang family member. Wu Xie could tell from how the other man tensed that the Wang was scared. Not that the younger man blamed him. His boyfriend looked terrifying. His sword, that Wu Xie normally saw leaning against the wall in their bedroom, was dripping blood onto the floor, the sound of that blood hitting the floor the only sound in the room. Xiaoge’s face was covered in streaks of blood and Wu Xie assumed that his clothing was also ruined, it was hard to see with the dark material.
Smiling at the older man, Wu Xie blew him a kiss. “Hi sweetheart, I thought it would take you guys longer.” Silently, Xiaoge threw something at Wu Xie’s feet. “Oh my god, one of you left your dog tags behind. I thought you guys were meant to be good.” Wu Xie didn’t know where this sudden courage was coming from, how he was able to laugh through the pain in his ribs, but he did. The Wang whirled around; hand raised to hit Wu Xie. Before he could, a knife flew past him, slicing his shoulder open.
That was when Wu Xie realised Xiaoge wasn’t alone. Sliding through the door behind him were Wu Xie’s friends. “Pangzi, Xiao Hua, get Wu Xie and go. Heiye and I will take care of this once and for all.” Pangzi nodded moving forward to untie Wu Xie’s hands and feet, supporting the young man as he stumbled. They moved past the Wang who was now concentrating on Xiaoge alone. Before they left, Wu Xie reached out to cup Xiaoge’s cheek, uncaring of the blood that smeared on his hand. Immediately Xiaoge turned to look at Wu Xie, ignoring the so called threat in front of him home. “Come home quickly yeah?” Xiaoge nodded, pressing a soft kiss to Wu Xie’s palm.
Grumbling about lovesick fools, Pangzi gently moved Wu Xie through the door. Dimly, Wu Xie was aware of Xiao Hua pulling his husband into a short, fierce kiss hissing that the other man better come back in one piece or else. He allowed himself to be led out of the compound, ignoring the bodies, the blood-streaked walls. At one stage they came across Pan Zi fighting off three Wangs with nothing but his knife. Before Pangzi could help him, Pan Zi killed them, running to the small group to pull Wu Xie into a tight hug before stealing a gun from a body and returning to the fray. Pangzi and Xiao Hua led Wu Xie out of the building, fingers on triggers, ready to defend their friend. Neither man relaxed until they handed Wu Xie over to Erbai and Xiu Xiu. With that done the two returned to the compound, determined to make sure that nothing like this would happen again.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Once the adrenaline wore off, Wu Xie passed out. He drifted in and out of consciousness, aware of people moving around him, tending to his wounds. At one stage, he could hear Erbai telling him to rest, that he was safe now and the Wangs would never hurt him again. At that, Wu Xie smiled, knowing that his family and friends would protect him.
Finally waking up properly, Wu Xie was quickly aware of two things. One, he was back in his small house beside the flower shop. And two, Xiaoge was asleep in the bed behind him, his arms wrapped tightly around Wu Xie’s waist. Moving back slightly, Wu Xie relaxed as he felt Xiaoge’s chest rise and fall, the steady rhythm lulling him back to sleep.
When he woke again a few hours later, Xiaoge was entering the bedroom, a tray of food in his hands. Noticing that the other man was awake, Xiaoge nodded at the tray. “Pangzi cooked for us. Everyone except for him, Xiao Hua and Heiye have gone home. I’ll message later to let them know you woke up.” Stretching, and wincing as his ribs twinged, Wu Xie moved to sit up, accepting the tray on his lap. Looking at it, he wasn’t surprised to see it full of his favourite foods. Resting against Xiaoge, he allowed himself to be fed. “The Wangs?” Xiaoge took his time answering, concentrating on tending to Wu Xie. “Won’t be a problem anymore. We wiped them out.”
Wu Xie hummed. He knew he should be more scared. His family and friends killed a lot of people, Xiaoge especially. Most people seeing their boyfriend covered in blood and with a blade literally dripping blood would run for the hills. But Wi Xie knew his friends and family. Knew that their job was dangerous and that to survive, you had to be dangerous as well. And if they killed a few people to protect Wu Xie, so what? If push came to shove, he knew he’d do the same.
With Xiaoge warm beside him, Pangzi and Heiye argue about opening the shop tomorrow in the kitchen, Xiao Hua laughing at them, Wu Xie felt safe for the first time since that Wang had punched him in the face in his cafĂŠ. And he knew that would do everything he had to do to protect that feeling.
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hotchley ¡ 4 years ago
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because no is a complete sentence.
hi! so @m0rcia is amazing and has been talking about a spencer hotchner au, which sounds like a really cool thing. it also sounds very chaotic given that diana is still his mother, which would lead to a lot of different parenting techniques. however, she was an absolute angel that answered my asks, which kinda? maybe? hopefuly got me out of my writer’s block. so even though the spencer hotchner au isn’t a complete fic yet, i wrote a really short drabble about it. because it’s amazing. like seriously, you need to see the posts about it.
@m0rcia: thank you. i hope this is okay- i wanted to surprise you because i only followed you recently but your blog always makes me laugh and it’s just really nice okay? and you’re also really nice. right i’ll stop ranting.
this is basically spencer learning that he never needs to justify himself after saying the word no. to anyone. regardless of who they are.
trigger warnings: references to child abuse
Spencer Hotchner is four years and three months old when he first learns that the word “no” is a full sentence.
His mother had often taught him about linguistics, and the way that sentences were formed in different languages. She taught him lots of different words- some of them his dad thought were not appropriate for him to be saying. Why, he didn’t know, because adults said those words all the time with no repercussions.
His dad struggled with the explanation. Spencer still doesn’t understand, but what he does know is that when he goes to stay with his mom, he can say what he wants, so long as he isn’t rude or disrespectful to anyone else around. Dad is more traditional- something to do with his southern upbringing- and he seems a bit different when he uses the so-called bad words. Sometimes they slip out.
But his dad doesn’t shout at him when he uses them. He just takes a deep breath and explains why he doesn’t like Spencer using them. Spencer starts to understand that his dad doesn’t like hearing them, but his mother thinks it’s okay. It’s still a bit confusing for him, but he thinks he grasps it.
Mom doesn’t have a lot of friends that want to touch him. He likes that, because there are only some people who he doesn’t mind touching him. Mom is the first person on that list. She always avoids the places that make him feel weird- his stomach and the back of his neck. Dad is also allowed to hug him. Most nights, he can’t sleep without his dad holding him close. He knows that the two of them are safe people, that’s why he likes them. And Dad is always gentle with him, never holding him too tightly.
Well, he did one time. They were in the shop and it was busy and all the people were so much bigger than Spencer. He found it overwhelming and started crying. Dad dropped the shopping right there in the aisle and took him to the toilets until he was able to explain through their hand signals what it was upsetting him: the lights, the tightness of Hotch’s touch and all the people.
After that, his Dad started taking one day a week as a work from home day. On those days, they would do their grocery shopping in the morning, when it was quiet and less colourful, and then Spencer would spend the afternoon with his Mom whilst Hotch did his work.
So Spencer had never really felt uncomfortable with touch. There were certain fabrics that he hated, but neither parent ever made him wear them. Mom let him wear whatever he wanted. Dad wanted him to change out of his pyjamas in the mornings when it was a weekday, but on weekends, they both spent their time in their pyjamas. It was really nice.
Dad’s family were less so. His dad didn’t have a dad anymore, nor did he like talking about him. Mom said that Dad’s dad was dead, which meant he no longer existed on this planet. Mom told him all sorts of theories about what happened to people after they died, but Dad said the conversation made him feel “icky” so they didn’t speak about it much.
But Dad took him to meet his family one weekend. Or the family he had left. Spencer knew all of their names. There was his Uncle Sean, his grandmother, two grand-aunts and three granduncles. One of his cousins was going to be there too, but they were much older than him.
When Dad rang the doorbell, he was doing the thing with his hand. Spencer had learnt he did that when he had sick feeling in his stomach that people described as butterflies.
“Why are you nervous?” he asked, staring up with wide eyes.
“I don’t really get on with most of my family. But you might like them, and you have a right to know who they are, which is why we’re here,” Dad answered.
“If it makes you feel icky then why did you do it?”
Dad did not answer. Spencer wondered if it was an impolite question. In reality, Aaron was trying to find the words. No had never been a good word in his house. At best, it meant he was being a difficult child, refusing to eat their vegetables. But most of the time it meant his father was refusing to have mercy or listen to him.
The door was opened before he could formulate an answer that wouldn’t terrify his son.
“Aaron! I was wondering when you would get here!” his mother said, kissing him on the forehead. Aaron didn’t let go of Spencer as he entered, remembering to slip his shoes off and put them to one side.
“Well, I’m here now, so,” he said.
Spencer shifted so he was slightly hidden.
“Is this Spencer? Hello, I’m your dad’s mommy, but you can call me whatever you’re most comfortable with. I prefer Nanny, it makes me feel less old and more loved. I have no idea what it is about it, it just does.”
“Mom, we talked about this. Please don’t overwhelm him,” Aaron said, already exasperated.
“Oh I am so sorry. Sean! Your brother is here!” she yelled.
Sean came rushing down the stairs. “Hey Aaron. Hi Spencer, I’m Sean, Aaron’s brother.”
Spencer gave him a shy wave. He wasn’t sure he wanted any of these people hugging him. But it was okay, because his dad understood that and kept them distracted to the point that they didn’t even realise.
The problem came when they were leaving. His dad had gone to get both of their coats, and Spencer was alone in the living room. Dad’s relatives were looking at him strangely as he was mesmerised by the art on the walls. He wondered if his Mom knew where it came from, and what it meant. The colours were muted, but pretty to look at.
“We’ll be off then,” Aaron said, once Spencer was all zipped up.
One of the grand aunts held her arms out. Spencer looked at his dad, who was engaged in conversation with his brother. He didn’t know what the woman expected her to do, so he stood there, watching her. Her face had an expression that he didn’t recognise on it.
Before he could register what she was doing her arms were wrapped around him, in a hug, that he did not want.
He let out a shout and Dad turned around.
“Spencer?” he said, trying to work out what was going on.
Spencer was squirming, trying to get away, but the woman just tightened her grip as he frantically shook his head, not knowing what he was supposed to say. He didn’t like the smell of her perfume, or the scratchy material of her dress. He wasn’t a baby anymore, but he could feel tears forming in his eyes.
And then suddenly he could breathe again. Dad had pulled him away. He buried his head in the soft material of his coat. It was nice and familiar and safe.
“Did he say you could hug him?” Aaron asked, his voice cold.
“I’m his family member, he should just do it,” she snapped.
Aaron swallowed. He wasn’t going to make the same mistakes his own family had. He couldn’t. “No, he shouldn’t. If he doesn’t want you hugging him, then you don’t. Understood? Mother, I’ll see you soon, hopefully. Spencer, we’re going home.”
Spencer nodded. He didn’t speak the whole journey home.
“How are you feeling now?” Dad asked, when they returned.
Spencer shrugged. “I didn’t like her hugging me.”
“That’s okay. When you don’t want somebody doing something, you say no. Okay? That’s all you have to say. No is a complete sentence. You don’t need to explain yourself. Ever. To anyone. Even to me. If you don’t want me to hug you, I won’t. And if that person makes you feel bad then they’re silly. Do you understand me?”
“Yes Dad.”
“And if they don’t stop, you hit them as hard as you can, and then you tell me. Or your Mom. Whichever one of us you see first.”
Spencer nodded. No was an interesting sentence. He’d have to ask his Mom about it. She then said it was one of the most important words a child could learn, and she was glad that his dad had taught him how to use it. They even practiced using it. It was much more fun to say: no I do not want to hear your opinions on Moby Dick again than it was to say: no I do not want a lollipop- which is what dad had made him say.
He was six years old when his dad first saw him use it.
They were in the playground. Dad was talking to Haley Brooks, who was there for her nephew. His Dad was not very good at disguising his attraction to her. Spencer thought it was a bit silly that he didn’t just say he was interested in her. He’d told his mom about what he thought was going to happen. She’d listened attentively and eventually deemed this Haley a good person.
Spencer had gotten bored and wondered over to some of the other kids, who were also waiting for their parents to finish their conversations. He was actually taller than one of them, but the rest were slightly bigger than him. They were playing a more gentle game of tag. Although he’d never met any of them, they quickly let him join the game.
When it was over, because one of them had to go, they asked to hug everyone. All the other children agreed like it was nothing.
Spencer didn’t want to hug him. But he didn’t want it to be like the other time, with Dad’s aunt. He hesitated and tried to see where his dad was. Dad had one eye on him and the other on Haley, ready to step in if he was needed.
No was a complete sentence. It always had been, and it always would be.
So when the little boy turned to him and asked if he could hug him, Spencer knew what to say.
“No,” he said.
The boy looked a little saddened, but shrugged and said bye to him anyways, before going over to his mom and leaving. Spencer used that moment to go back to his dad, who was done talking to Miss Brooks and smiled at him.
“Hey buddy. How was your little game?”
“It was nice. The boy wanted to hug me, but I didn’t want that to happen, so I told him no. And he just said okay and goodbye.”
Aaron smiled, holding his hand out in case his son wanted to hold it during their walk home. “Well done buddy. I know it can be a bit difficult to say it sometimes, but you did good. Shall we go home now?”
Spencer nodded. “Goodbye Miss Brooks.”
“Goodbye Spencer. See you soon Aaron.”
Aaron blushed and turned away, leading his son out of the school. His son that had no problem taking control of his own body or making his needs and wants known. He smiled to himself. Him and Diana may have not agreed on a lot of things, but this? This he was going to tell her all about. Because this was both of them.
Aaron Hotchner may not have grown up knowing that no was okay.
But Spencer Hotchner never had any problems using the word. Because in the Hotchner household, and everywhere else they went, regardless of who or where it was, no was a complete sentence. As it should be everywhere.
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lostinwoods ¡ 4 years ago
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A satire of How the Inuyasha world went to shit and Yashahime happened!
Before anyone reads any further, there are certain warnings.
Warnings: Mentions of the rainbow pearl being a secret porn stash with nefarious powers. Pedomaru is an imposter.
Trigger: Depicts trauma of an underage Rin. 
A poorly made imagine by an enraged fan, where only Sunrise Pedomaru ( read imposter) is a piece of shit but the rest are moral characters.
Note: Do not be like Pedomaru. Be moral, do not follow porn logic! I honestly did not want to but I realised there is no other sane way to somewhat absolve Sesshoumaru-sama and simultaneously keep it trashacanon. So, blame the plot!
-----How the conversations might have happened back then-----
Kirinmaru- Hey, you Naraku! I gave you life even after having severe case of racism... You have an important mission to complete.
Naraku- Kukuku.... I am the great Naraku-sama. Who do you think you are to make me your underling?
Kirinmaru- The dude who sent the demons materializing in your body. I am the one who turned you half!
Naraku- Fuck you! I am not your slave.
Kirinmaru- *grits teeth* Okay, fine, you youngsters don't know how to work without taking bribes. I would give you the chance to regain the Shikon and would allow your one wish upon it!
Naraku- *Smirks* All according to plan!
Naraku- So, what would you have me do?
Kirinmaru- Do anything, I mean anything but keep away that demon named Sesshoumaru from his home.
Naraku- Why?
Kirinmaru- *Inhales slowly* That guy's got a collection of pedophilia porn stash there, hidden in two rainbow pearls. He is not....and I repeat not to be allowed near his house and most importantly that porn stash.
Naraku- Why?
Zero- Because the Shikon has told me that there would be a union which would be a catastroph in making.
Naraku- So?
Zero- You dimwit, there would be Kids' as a result of his pedophilic relation with his human ward. Even we demons do not support such notions!
Naraku- Wow, never thought a guy could be more twisted than me.
Kirinmaru and Zero- No kidding! Just know that the union should not happen!
-------- 8 years later after Naraku's death-------
What no one will ever know is that the real Sesshoumaru was being kept captive in an underground dungeon and his twin brother, Pedomaru (a sick twisted pedophilic fuck) was postering as him and taking his place after Naraku’s end. He took the rainbow pearls the original Sesshoumaru was keeping away from him.
Zero- Bro, bro... Wake up! Sesshoumaru (she doesn't know he is an imposter) defeated Naraku and now he is spending time watching his porn stash and preparing gifts for his human ward.
Kirinmaru- *Slurs, half asleep* Ya? Go and burn 'em down and keep that kid away from him.
Zero- Yes bro, Imma on my way!
Zero- *Sends Root-head to cause havoc and distract Sesshoumaru. Meanwhile, she flies to his sky castle and steals the rsinbow pearls*.
-----Another 2 years later------
Zero- Bro, wake up! Terrible news, Sesshoumaru's gonna be a dad!
Kirinmaru- *Sits up straight and wears his horse mask to hide the disgust on his handsome face* Keep the kids away from the pearls at all cost!
Zero- Okay, on my way.
------10 mins later-----
Zero- I should have never allowed you near that porn stash. I am a terrible failure of an aunt!
Pedomaru- Zero!
Zero- Oh, you remember my name.
Pedomaru- How could I not. You have no clue what you did. I was on my last episode of 'Boku no Pico' and you took them down. I did not even get to know whether they....
Zero- *Eyes almost falling out of its sockets* Not only Loli but Shota as well??? You are the scum of this century!
Pedomaru- *Smirks* And that got me kids.
Zero- *Smirks* And the rainbow pearls with me!
-----Meanwhile on the other side----
Riku: Kagome-sama? You are the leg. Shikon priestess correct?
Kagome: Yes, I am!
Riku: I am Riku and I am a pirate.
Kagome: Yeah and I am the destroyer of Naraku and also an awesome time traveler. But such things are rocket science to you, Mr. unreliable narrator.
Riku: So, there's gonna be a comet and it's gonna bring calamity. Thus it should be destroyed by the inu brothers.
Kagome: Sure...... Because comets can also do other things...you know things other than setting the ground on fire or creating a hole on the ground... you know, like bringing literal darkness.
Kagome: Oh and Mr. Unreliable narrator, have you heard that my bro-in-law is a major creep who actually had sex with his daughter figure. I am sure the comet can do nothing more terrible.
------10 mins. Later. In a hut----
Inhabitants collectively: God, we should have seen this coming.
Kagome: Yeah, why didn't I take that tongue twister seriously?
Sango: Man, you telling me I have to see this shit happening to a girl the same age I was when I started slaying demons? I had hoped nothing worse could happen to a girl my age, think I jinxed it!
Kaede: Poor Rin!
Rin: *After birthing for several hours* Huh, only if I was an adult, I could have actually given birth without going through two miscarriages in the last two years.
Kagome and Sango: Sorry Rin, we should have never allowed you to go and stay at his palace for those two years. Back then we thought that he was your caring father figure. But, that bastard actually showed you such crap porn and coerced your consent! Rin, you should have reached out to us faster, at the time when he had started those things!
Rin: *With silent tears in her eyes* Yes, back then I did not understand anything. But I started understanding after my second miscarriage. Thus I sent Inuyasha-Sama that SOS. I am only thankful that he barged as my saviour at the right time! The least I could have asked for at this point is healthy kids. They look so beautiful. Finally I can hold them in my....
Pedomaru: *Saunters in and picks up the kids* They need to pass the rite of courage and cowardice.
Rin and the rest: Fuck you too asshole! You dare take them away with a shit like pass some rite. Keep your disgusting hand off them. Get outta here! Right this moment!
Jaken: *Tearfully* I will take care of the rest!
Rin: *Wails mournfully* I lost them again. The one time I could see them with my eyes, that nymphomaniac takes 'em away. Should have listened to Master Ungai back then!
-----In a forest----
Pedomaru: *Places the bundles of the kids on the ground and whips out the rainbow pearls holding his secret porn stash. Then he inserts said jewels in the eyes of each girl*
Jaken: *Erects a barrier that could easily be seen through by Zero* 
Zero: I order you to burn that place down. I am sure he's got some of his stash hiding in that tree. Get the kids away but do not forget to remove 'em, the main stash's in the kids' eyes.
------In a certain Shrine----
Kagome: *Kisses her daughter's forehead and hands her a beni* We had always decided that if we ever had a daughter, we would give her this beni. Keep this with you Moroha, it is an anti-pedo lipstick. It will keep you safe from your piece of a shit uncle.
Inuyasha: *Unsheaths Tessaiga* Kagome, the Pedo and his boytoy's here!
Pedomaru: *Zooms past Kirinmaru and digs into Inuyasha's eye and fishes out a black pearl* Finally found the secret porn stash of Dad. I had always wanted to get to this. Finally! *Seals off InuKag in the pearl and turns towards Kirinmaru* I hope this is fine. Let them watch some porn and educate themselves!
Kirinmaru: * Resets his mask lest it slips off and shows his disgusted face* Well, I guess it's fine for now!
Kirinmaru continues to side eye Pedomaru all the while ploting how to get rid of those porn stashes.
He returns to his abode and speedily creates some underlings.
Kirinmaru to underlings: I order you all to collect the rainbow pearls that are scattered around the continent. Remember, do not look inside them and never use them. They are weapons of great caliber.
Underling 1: *In a nasaly voice* Kirinmaru-sama what is in those pearls.
Kirinmaru: Listen carefully because I would say it once. Those pearls are secret porn stashes of dubious content. They should be removed at all cost. Find them and bring them to me. Oh, and never allow Riku to get a hold of them. That boy has already lost his articulate power of narration after he began that black market piracy of the rainbow-pearl porn stash.
The underlings all shouted in sync: Yes, understood Kirinmaru-sama!
And thus began Yashahime: A tale of twins who embark on a journey to save the world from the rainbow pearls and their wrath!
We sincerely hope they could choose their boat carefully! And the real Sesshoumaru is brought to justice. RIP Pedomaru, the imposter!
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alo-piss-trancy ¡ 4 years ago
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Ok hi, I didn't wanna say anything, but please don't write knifeplay/bloodplay for Yuri. I def don't wanna spoil anything, but it's learned on a certain route that Yuri has a s*lf h*rm problem (I'll leave it at that).
You honestly seem like you're not trying to be a jerk with this ask, so I'm going to do my best to answer this as politely as possible without compromising my personal beliefs on the matter. This is going to be long and a little serious, but please note I'm not attacking you or trying to start a debate. I'm just laying all my thoughts on this down at once so I make myself clear, because a short answer would leave a lot of nuance out.
I understand what you're trying to do here. For the record though, I also considered that a pretty massive spoiler and I did not appreciate that at all. Even if you all think you're 'helping', don't do that again. Y/uri was pretty much the only character I'd managed to avoid most spoilers on and you killed the surprise for me. This game is already so full of fluffy 'filler' in the beginning that I don't have a ton of big plot points to look forward to in each route.
Now, I realise this is a very delicate topic and incredibly triggering to some people, especially with those two things combined. I am 100% willing to tag it with just about any variation needed to ensure you or others affected can blacklist/block it and never have to see a word of it in the future. I'd also be happy to go back and tag that original text post I made if needed. I mean that. You all are welcome to ask me to tag things anytime, and so long as you're polite about it I'm perfectly willing to oblige to the best of my ability in future posts! If I occasionally forget, just toss me a light reminder and I'll jump into editing and add it in.
That said, I want to make it clear that I am very firmly against censorship. I'm willing to take all necessary precautions to ensure people can curate their experiences on this blog and AO3, but at the end of the day I can still post whatever fictional stuff I choose to. As can anyone else. Same goes for more formally published media.
Now, it's entirely possible I would have gotten to that part of the game and decided 'oh dang, I'm not so enthused about that fic idea anymore...'. My whims and ideas change frequently, and what you mentioned is a heavy topic with a lot to unpack and process. It's also entirely possible that future plot would only provide more fuel.
Fyi, when I originally mentioned the knifeplay I was actually thinking a lot more along the lines of her doing it to the protagonist, not the reverse. But for the record, if I did choose to write it with focus on Y/uri, I would still be well within my rights to.
This next part of my answer is going to address some heavy topics, this is your warning!!!
Sometimes people's kinks are a way to take a thing that is personally scary or upsetting to them and find a way to reverse it. To find pleasure or power or get used to the idea of the awful thing in a safe, controlled fashion. I'm not going to go into the full details on this because there's plenty of explanation and research elsewhere already written up, as well as an excellent book on the subject, and I'm not turning this blog into a discourse debate. But I needed to mention it for my point.
There are plenty of stories that could be explored with Y/uri in this context. Did she have this kink before the self harm events started and it was completely unrelated, or did she develop it afterwards? How did she discover it beforehand? If developed afterwards, did it start out as another way of harming mixed with pleasure in a self-destructive way, often done sloppily and without proper technique? Or was it strictly used as almost exposure therapy to deal with those urges and thoughts in a safer, more contained scenario, maybe even allowing the partner she trusted to wield the knife to prove their bond/reinforce that she can be loved without being hurt deeply, that she is worthy of affection and trust and loyalty. Maybe this finally helps give Y/uri a tool to embrace her 'weirdness' without harming herself and others. Or, what if she thinks it can be a useful tool and is sure she's ready, but partway through the scene she gets triggered or has flashbacks... how does she deal with it? How does her partner? Can it be overcome with effort, research, and taking things slowly, or does she realize this kink is actually completely off the table for her?
What if she has this kink and is excited to try it, but her partner isn't? How does she take that rejection? Or do her poor social skills mean she skipped negotiation to begin with and attempted it in the middle of a vanilla session? Would her partner freak out or even get mad, or try to swallow their fear and let her do it so they don't hurt/offend her, even at the cost of their own comfort?
This topic also opens a ton of potential plots for darkfic, but I'll refrain from discussing that out of respect for you and others.
So as you can see, there's much more to explore than 'Knife=Hot'. I believe those discussions and ideas are necessary and provide important fuel for thought when explored fictionally, especially since mainstream media doesn't cover a lot of them.
~~~
I feel I should take a second to clarify knifeplay for those who may be unaware. It doesn't always equate to actual cutting/drawing blood. That can be an aspect, but usually only by those far more experienced and, you know, actually into that. A lot of participants don't actually go that far. Mostly, it's either about the physical sensation of the knife touching you at all, or the adrenaline/controlled fear and intimate trust of a partner bringing an object like that so close/teasing you with it.
In fact, it's frequently advised in those circles (especially to newcomers) to use a dull butterknife instead, because it simulates the same feelings of metal on skin/can dig in a little without any real risk of cutting/drawing blood. Even if one chooses to use a different knife, it's still pretty common to dull the blade, or some people even substitute with a closed pair of scissors (combined with the partner blindfolded, you can't really tell it apart from the real thing).
These versions of knifeplay are well controlled and ultimately pretty harmless, so long as both parties know what they're doing and stay alert. And more experienced players with sharper knives are even more cautious/have studied extensively to know where/how deep to go without risking scarring/serious injury.
Remember the golden rules of kink: Safe. Sane. Consensual.
With those in place, it is not nearly the same as self harm. Just as controlled, consensual, well-negotiated BDSM with safewords, respected boundaries and a trusted partner is never in the same league as abuse.
~~~
Now that that's out of the way, back to my point:
There's no perfect representation or narrative for everyone, in any group (be that gender/sexuality/triggered by certain things, etc). Every human being is different, everyone interprets media differently, and everyone takes away different elements from stories.
What one person in a particular group may find cathartic, relateable, or painful but necessary food for thought, another may find completely repulsive, personally hurtful, offensive, something they can't stand to hear. And guess what? Both of those can be true at the same time. One side is not immediately right over the other.
There are queer characters or interpretations of them in fics that I vehemently despise, might even find hurtful or sickening and think 'how can anyone create this, it's insufferable! People in 'my group' aren't like that, it's a horrible representation. I can't relate to it at all!' But you know what? Other people can and do, may find comfort in those exact narratives and experiences, may heal their pain instead of inflicting more. And that's great. It's what they needed or wanted and if I don't like it, I click away and do my best to avoid it.
There are specific tropes and narrative themes I personally cannot get through without being triggered into anxiety attacks or dragged back to bad times and places in my life. Sometimes I see them tackled in ways that are hurtful or seem insensitive to me. But I recognise that for someone else, it's exactly what they needed to see to get through that or come to terms with it, or see a way they wish that thing could play out. I would never dream of telling those people they aren't allowed to enjoy it, OR telling the creator of that piece of media or a tv show 'Hey ummm please don't use this plot because it turns me into a human wreck for a week'. Because it's not remotely my place to do so. They can create whatever they want, they have no responsibility towards me or my well being. A few might be kind enough to include a warning at the beginning of that episode or in the description, but they are in no way required to. It's up to me to curate my experience and try to keep my guard up/research what might have those tropes, and in the rare occasions I get blindsided, yeah, it hurts like hell. I struggle, I might even backslide a bit. But I just have to try my best to deal with it and make a note to be more careful next time. Because you can't control the world around you, not even the online world, and you have absolutely no right to. The only right you have is to protect yourself without infringing on other people's boundaries/rights.
And there's also another important point. There doesn't have to be a big important point or explanation for why a creator creates something, or why consumers can enjoy that creation! If someone wants to create a plotline with all of my triggers used in the most 'insensitive', 'wrong', pointless ways possible, strictly for Entertainment or pure kink material instead of some deep dissection of the issues involved? They can go hog wild!!! They are 100% allowed to do so on this earth, and I can't (and wouldn't want to) do a thing to stop them.
One person can read a kink fic and it hits a very emotional theme for them/they think it explores a deep topic well. Another person can read that same fic and get nothing out of it except their rocks off. Both of those readers are completely equal and 'allowed' to enjoy that fic. Both reasons are completely valid reasons for why the creator was 'allowed' to post/create that fic in the first place. Nobody needs permission, nobody has to answer to anybody except themselves. Period. This extends to any topic, any type of fic.
Yes, even for things I find absolutely abhorrent and insensitive and don't understand/want to read ever. I may resent everything about its existence, but I will defend to death the creator's right to make it exist in the first place.
It only affects me if I let it affect me. If someone's making content I despise or am upset by and can't handle, I can choose to ignore or avoid them, blacklist those tags, I can block them and move on with my day. I can do anything within my own bubble, but the second I consider going into their bubble and saying they can't make that thing, I am in the wrong. Because I'm not respecting their space and rights.
If someone makes cookies with ingredients I'm highly allergic to, pastes the ingredient warnings all over the box where I read them, and I still eat one, would anyone cheer me on for blaming them when I have a reaction? Would anyone think it was remotely okay of me to start calling up every bakery in town and saying they weren't allowed to bake those cookies EVER, because some people somewhere might be allergic?
No. They'd tell me I was crossing the line, because I'm infringing on other people's boundaries and lives. I'm expecting everybody else to take responsibility for something that, while horrible and painful, was my fault for touching.
Now, if someone sets out unlabelled cookies not realizing I'm allergic to something in them, and I eat it and have a reaction, that sucks. It's an awful experience. But is it the baker's fault? As long as they didn't do it maliciously, not really. They can be advised politely to label it in the future, and I can do my best to remember to ask/be more cautious next time I come across something I'm unsure of, but they're still allowed to bake those cookies for themselves and others.
Now, if I deliberately baked cookies with an ingredient that people are very frequently allergic to (ex. peanuts) and set it out in a crowded buffet without a warning label, that's a jerk move. That's intentionally trying to cause harm to others. But simply baking that flavour of cookies still isn't a crime or harmful by itself.
~~~
I'll be honest, I'm running out of steam and I think I've said most of what I have to say, so I'll wrap it up. I want to reiterate that I'm not ripping into you with this long answer, anon! I understand why you sent me what you did and I'm trying not to come off as harsh. I'm happy to go back and tag things and will tag anything else similar in the future!!! But at the end of the day, regardless of whether I personally end up writing that fic or not, or even want to after I get to that plot, I don't agree with telling anyone they can't/shouldn't write it at all. I wanted to try and explain my viewpoint thoroughly, and I hope you can respect that, just as I'll respect and try to accommodate you and other followers. This is the only time I'll really get up on a soapbox like this, and I have no interest in debating these things on my blog further, but it is a topic I've been passionate about all my life so I'm afraid I'm not budging on it.
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pi-creates ¡ 4 years ago
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So I’ve been happily watching @stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale stream through games recently, and she has decided to try one of my favourite Telltale games - Tales From the Borderlands. But since CJ isn’t familiar with the Borderlands games (and from the sounds of things, neither are some people in the chat) I’ve put together a very basic bit of background information from what I know (I also haven’t played everything from after TFTB’s release). 
It isn’t necessary to know any of this to enjoy TFTB as it gives a brief, ‘bare-bones’ introduction, but I figured it might help some people who like having that extra bit of depth going in without having to play through the other games. 
There won’t be spoilers for the TFTB plot, obviously, but the bottom section under the ‘read more’ will list characters from the main series who are mentioned/appear in the game and relevant information that someone familiar with the series should already know about them. But if you are familiar with the series and don’t want to know who may or may not show up (or would just rather go in blind to who is a ‘returning’ character) - stop reading at the Notable characters segment. 
[Spoilers for the Borderlands series below here]
For starters, Borderlands is set in the distant future – there are ways to ‘digistruct’ weapons and vehicles at the press of a button, you can walk up to a vending machine and instantly change your appearance, there are advanced cybernetics, robots are normal, you can have personal shields, teleportation is technically possible for both weaponry (notably grenades) and people, and there are guns that shoot electricity/fire/corrosive ammunition.
The goal of every Borderlands game revolves around the idea of opening a Vault – an ancient archway of Eridian origins (just think of long-extinct aliens) that is filled with treasures, hostile guardian entities, and also a very big, pissed off vault monster who will attempt to destroy anyone/anything that tries to get inside. The people who take the risk of searching for a vault and the treasures inside are labelled as Vault Hunters. In the core games, this would be you.
The problem is that finding a vault is hard since they are hidden, and they are often locked with artefact keys that trigger them to unlock. This means that the location of a vault, a vault key, or any signs of Eridian tech is VERY highly valued. Most of the games therefore revolve around the planet of Pandora since it has a high concentration of Eridian ruins which leads prospecting vault hunters to assume there must be more vaults to find on the planet.
Pandora, though, is more than a little inhospitable. The environment is mostly barren or wildly extreme, the wildlife is often very aggressive and deadly, and the people tend to be very rough since they have to deal with all of that. The planet itself doesn’t offer many prospects beyond weapon manufacturing, research, resource mining, and banditry. It has, however, previously been home to large corporations who tried to exploit said resources and attempted to ‘civilise’ the locals who would rather tell those corporations to piss off with the booming end of a shotgun. There is also a significant portion of the population who teeter really close to insanity on a daily basis. That is normal for them.
All of the attempts to settle and gather resources from Pandora has led to literal rubbish heaps, abandoned colonisation attempts, manufacturing/research zones that are often not friendly, bandit shanty towns, toxic chemical zones (from corporations running unethical experimentation) and SO many roaming bandits. Naturally, the locals don’t take kindly to anyone who works for the bigger corporations as they expect to be screwed over or exploited in some way.
For people familiar with the series, the timeline for Tales from the Borderlands is set after Borderlands 2 and before the Fight For Sanctuary DLC.
For people unfamiliar, you need to know that Pandora has recently dealt with the Handsome Jack problem. Basically, the handsome Hyperion CEO was set on wiping out all bandits and dangerous wildlife from Pandora. The problem was that Jack had a very low opinion of vault hunters, bandits, and pretty much everyone on Pandora as he believed they all fell in to those categories. 
The player’s introduction to Jack literally comes from him inviting vault hunters to Pandora, only for him to then blow up the transport in transit. You are lucky enough to survive where most others died. Jack himself then contacts you to say that you aren’t following his plan to kill all the vault hunters and “if you could just do me a favour and off yourself, that’d be great. Thanks, pumpkin.“
At the start of Borderlands 2 you will hear of Jack’s rather unethical and violent methods of dealing with people who aren’t on board with his plan – all while having a rather cheerful manner of speaking, almost as if he was enjoying playing the game with you as his opponent. He actually keeps in contact with the vault hunters throughout the game to casually chat with them, and occasionally yell at them if they aren’t playing along with him.
He plotted to open a vault on Pandora that held a very powerful monster called the Warrior. He was going to harness the Warrior’s powers to enact his wide-scale extermination plans. On the journey to stop his plans the vault hunters end up killing Jack’s daughter, Angel, as she was being used to ‘charge’ the vault key. Angel herself led the vault hunters to her location in the hopes that they would stop her father’s plans, much to Jack’s disapproval. He stops being cheerful at this point and doubles-down on wanting to raze all of Pandora to the ground.
He does successfully open the vault and the vault hunters have to defeat the Warrior before Jack can use it. The vault hunters win and Jack is killed for his crimes against Pandora. His final speech before dying in Borderlands 2 was very cool – including it here as it sums up his thought process really well. It has also lead to some interesting interpretations of Jack’s overall character.
"No, no, no... I can't die like this... Not when I'm so close... And not at the hands of a filthy bandit! I could have saved this planet! I could have actually restored order! And I wasn't supposed to die by the hands... of a CHILD KILLING PSYCHOPATH!! You're a savage! You're a maniac, you are a bandit, AND I AM THE GODDAMN HERO!!
"The Warrior was practically a god! How- How in the HELL have you killed my Warrior?!
"You idiots! The Warrior could have brought peace to this planet! No more dangerous creatures, no more bandits, Pandora-it would have been a PARADISE!!"
Naturally, since all of this drama happened not long ago, the citizens of Pandora are very much still on edge in regards to anyone who works for the bigger corporations – Hyperion especially.
Definitions to some things you are likely to see/hear about in TFTB –
Eridium – An ore-like resource associated with the vaults. It glows purple and is supposedly exceptionally rare in most of the universe – but not Pandora. This is what most of the manufacturing companies want since it can be harnessed to create highly effective tech/weapons.
Catch-A-Ride – The service that Scooter (a mechanic on Pandora) uses to digistruct vehicles out of Catch-A-Ride stations.  
ECHOs / ECHOnet – Essentially your mobile phone with internet and an app that lets you check everything in your backpack with a holographic display.
The Crimson Raiders – More or less the resistance fighters of Pandora who kept the citizens protected during the fighting of the main games. Run by the original vault hunters and still active in keeping Pandora free of outside threats.
Atlas – A technology and weapon corporation that was the first to make an earnest attempt to colonise Pandora after they suspected it would hold a vault. Was known as one of the best in terms of quality. They have since gone out of business.
Hyperion – The main corporation you will be dealing with. Has a particularly bad reputation on Pandora due to their former CEO, Handsome Jack, attempting to wipe out every bandit community on Pandora. Under Jack’s rule a lot of experiments were also run testing Eridium and Eridium by-products on people and animals – resulting in death, mutation, and insanity to most subjects.
Helios – Hyperion’s orbital station that can constantly be seen orbiting between Pandora and its moon. The station itself is shaped like a giant ‘H’ and houses a concentrated weapon that can shoot massive ammunition at targeted areas on Pandora. The weapon can also be used to shoot transport containers from the orbital station down to Pandora’s surface.
Elpis – Pandora’s moon. Visibly cracked open due to excessive mining. Everyone from here is VERY Aussie and it’s a little weird...
Notable characters you may meet/need to know about –
Marcus – Your narrator – he also narrated the intros and endings to the other games. You won’t see him, but it’s a nice tie in to the format of the main series.
Sirens – Essentially these ladies are magic. They are all born normal, but they will suddenly change and inherit their siren powers when another siren dies. They stand out by their glowing, tattoo-like markings that mysteriously appear on them when they awaken their siren abilities. Not much is known about them other than they can interact with Eridian based materials, and that they are excessively powerful since they have magic abilities.
Claptrap (CL4P-TP) – A class of unicycle robot that is very annoying. Doesn’t shut up, but is technically a vault hunter. You may or may not run in to him.
Angel / (Guardian Angel) – A siren who had the ability to interface with technology. She is the daughter of Handsome Jack and spent most of her life hidden in a secured bunker that only her father could enter via a DNA lock and voice password (her father saying “I love you”). This is due to Jack becoming extremely protective after bandits tried to abduct Angel upon realising she was a siren, and after Angel unintentionally killed her own mother with her powers. Due to her siren powers, she had the ability to stay in constant communication with anyone outside of the bunker, and to help her father with any tasks he required. Was killed by the vault hunters in Borderlands 2.
Handsome Jack – Antagonist from Borderlands 2 and previously the CEO of Hyperion. Has a mask of his face fastened over his actual face which was scarred by an Eridian artefact on Elpis. Starting out as a programmer, he worked his way up the ladder in Hyperion with Angel’s help through a mix of (initially) well intentioned plans to help the people of Elpis, and a growing obsession with power and hatred for Pandora and its bandits. He eventually strangled his boss and named himself President and CEO of the company.
Professor Nakayama – Had a massive crush on Handsome Jack in Borderlands 2. Smart guy who was devastated by Handsome Jack’s death and was working on a way to find the best successor to Jack to run Hyperion. He was attempting to clone Jack from old medical data (taken somewhere before the start of Borderlands 2′s plot) before the vault hunter’s confronted him and he literally dies from falling down a flight of stairs. Easiest boss battle ever.
Shade – DEFINITELY NOT INSANE. Somehow lived alone in a town in the middle of a desert with no water - and this definitely didn’t effect him mentally at all. He just wants a friend.
Scooter – Pandora’s best mechanic. Nice guy and actually a little more normal than a lot of other Pandorans. Has girl troubles, not that he’d ever admit it.
Ellie – Scooter’s sister. Also a mechanic, much to her mother’s displeasure.
Moxxi – Mother of Scooter and Ellie – runs a bar, slot machines, and previously a battle arena (The Underdome). Pretty much seen as Pandora’s Pin-Up, which she seems happy about since it has garnered her significant influence and power on Pandora. She speaks in pure innuendo.
Janey – Elpis’ best mechanic, focusing more on vehicles that work in low (or no) gravity. Runs an equivalent of Catch-A-Ride on Elpis. Girlfriend of Athena.
Athena – Vault hunter who was hired by Jack to help with the Vault on Elpis. Had a falling out with Jack after dealing with the Elpis situation, as this is where Jack was clearly starting to lose his stability. She notably fights with a shield that she can throw and return to her hand. Previously an Atlas employed assassin who turned against the company after Atlas tricked her into assassinating a target that was very important to her. Girlfriend of Janey.
Zer0 – Vault hunter who found a Pandoran vault and was involved in killing Handsome Jack. Another assassin who fights with a sword and is capable of making hologram decoys of himself. He likes to display holograms in front of his helmet to communicate since you cannot see his facial expressions. He’s an alien / who always speaks in haiku / with some exceptions.
Brick – Vault hunter from the first game. He is a berserker who punches VERY hard, but is a softy at heart.
Mordecai – Vault hunter from the first game. Sniper and sharpshooter, doesn’t need a scope to get a good headshot.
Lilith – Vault hunter from the first game. Siren who leads The Crimson raiders along with Brick and Mordecai.
Loader Bots – Hyperion made bots that are used for security and manual labour. They are big, they can speak, and they are very sturdy. Weirdly enough, they have the capacity to become self-aware (though self-aware models are often destroyed by Hyperion if discovered).
Psychos – A particular class of bandit that is always shirtless, dressed in orange pants, masked, and they all speak complete gibberish. They have some consistencies to their gibberish including an obsession with meat and salt.
Butt Stallion – Handsome Jack’s diamond Pony – Jack lovingly named her after the vault hunters at the start of Borderlands 2. She eats Eridium and poops guns... I wish I was kidding.
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glgaming835 ¡ 4 years ago
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How much money is spent on gaming
Major 20 Gaming Blogs You Should Be Following
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space-blue ¡ 4 years ago
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Portrait of an Artist in Love
9th competition win. It's a love letter to the world of Love Death + Robot's "Good Hunting" episode.
There is a motto within our guild:
'Your client is your Art.'
It dictates our rules, weaves itself into our practices, shapes our pride, and though our clients are made to understand its impact, the phrase itself is not spoken to outsiders. It is a tenet, a pillar of our teachings, an invisible chain around our wrists. A chain I wonder if inspector Merig has come to tug.
'You are a popular biomata craftsman and a respected guild member, Dr. Parahi,' he says, clearly fishing for a reaction. 'A true artist among steamwrights, I'm told.'
'Inspector, what is this visit about?'
'Just a few questions, if you please. Are you aware of the series of murders that have happened in the Kublai and Kodenshi districts?'
I smile tightly. So, this is about her after all.
'I do read the papers. Even if I didn't, the guild keeps us appraised of such... events as might disturb our work.'
'When did you first become aware of the killings?'
'After the one that happened at the Proctor's party. Since that was only a district over, everyone here was made aware of the case. No one knew then that it was serial.'
'We still don't know for sure,' the inspector says, pulling photographs out of a battered folder, 'but they all have a few things in common.'
He pushes the glossy black and white photographs forward. I find myself oddly surprised. The content might be gruesome, but the police department has a talented photographer on their payroll. All the bodies are angled to showcase the gaping injuries. They lay sprawled in pools of grey, blood diluted in hydrofill, I suppose.
'They were all either augmented or full biomata. They are all missing parts. A lot of parts.'
'Oh, please. Are you suggesting a guild member is behind this? Me, even? No self respecting craftsman would destroy someone else's work like that. Particularly not in such a barbaric fashion.'
'No, rest assured,' inspector Merig says, placating, 'we've already sorted things with your guild concerning alibis. At least in your case.'
Nothing in our code states that we should not try to help the police. There is, however, no incentive for me to volunteer information, and so I stare at him in expectant silence.
'Do you ever work on automata, Dr. Parahi?'
'Never. All of my work is meant for live grafting.'
I wave a hand to encompass the atelier space all around us. The copper and ivory limbs showcased at the forefront all are to exhibit taste and designs. The hands made of tantalum, titanium and tungsten, laid out on the cabinet to our left, are where the craftsmanship is on display. It is all a front, a showroom, as it were, despite the small workbench. That one is for clients in need of repairs or simple cosmetics. There is no automata on display or in use. It would constitute false advertisement in such a curated room.
'Would one be able to craft an automata out of parts taken from such victims?'
I feel a shiver run down my spine at the question. Surely, the real one will soon follow. It takes some effort to maintain the appearance of nonchalance, to not trigger the whirring of my knee joints with an anxious shift, to ignore the weight of the stare of my ancestors, perched in their gilded frames on the wall at my back. Six generations of steamwrights silently judging the last practising scion of their house, readying his lies.
'Of course,' I say, inclining my head with a smile, a show of scholarly indulgence. 'Depending on what they wanted to build. If needed, you could smelt and reforge to fit–well, depending on the material. The only thing you cannot transfer or reuse are the tubing and the cores. The engine needs are completely different, and automata don't require hydrofill. Anyone savvy enough can do this. It is not even considered guild work.'
'What about building biomata with them?'
Here it is... And what can I say? It is another tenet of ours that you should never deny a client the components they bring you. Our work is... a communion, a shared vision. A concept I highly doubt officer Merig would ever understand or appreciate. I look at him studiously as I mull over my answer, though there is nothing of interest to look at. He is what is derogatorily referred to in the milieu as a "meatbag". There is no Art to him. Not even a glimmer of cosmetic copper-gold, ivory or amber, not a whisper of inner mechanism, no murmur of churning steam.
'Obviously it can be done,' I answer, keeping up with the affable professor persona. 'People often inherit parts from deceased relatives and have legacy work done to integrate them. This would not be very different, except the guild is usually involved in the original disassembling process.'
'Could you tell the parts were taken by force, if someone presented them to you?'
'Not necessarily,' I reply, lying through my teeth. In for a copper, in for a silver: 'There are shunts that can be activated to section off limbs cleanly. If these were used, the limb would look as neat as if I'd taken it off the donor myself.'
I tap a ringed finger at one of the photographs, one of the more gruesome ones, as one of the parts removed was the insulation polysheet around the steam core.
'Providing materials has always been a popular way to offset the cost of the operations for our clients. However some of these parts you simply can't smelt or play pretend with. Anyone within the guild would know and call the police. This looks more like trophies to me, it's so pointless otherwise.'
Inspector Merig strokes his bearded chin. Though he appears to be considering my point, his lack of surprise makes me think the idea is not new to him.
'Could someone be out there,' he asks, 'someone not from the guild, enhancing themselves, or someone else, with the parts taken from the killings?'
I smile indulgently at this.
'Inspector Merig. Surely you realise setting a steam core engine inside a living being is nothing like automata work? You need to be a talented surgeon for the client to even survive. The creation of a biomata is Art in its truest form, combining medicine, metallurgy, jewellery, design, engineering, fine tuning more precise than clockwork, and the mastery of the gods' greatest gift: steam. Most of the processes involved are guild secrets too. If someone is out there trying to fiddle with an existing biomata without the proper training...' I tap my chin, thinking, hoping to sell it. 'It's possible... At least they could try. But the guild would take it about just as well as if the imperial botanists heard someone was growing Telura on their roof garden.'
Inspector Merig snorts at the comparison.
'Still, why come to me? Surely all of this could have been explained to you at the guildhall?'
'You came highly recommended. Most popular in the district, I was told.' Merig waves his gloved hand to encompass the shop and its shining collection of limbs and skeletal constructs. 'Certainly looks like it to me.'
There is a certain quality to the man's expression. The way his jaw is set, the tension around his eyes. It is a cousin to the apprehension I see in so many faces lying down on my workbench. A sort of uncertainty. It occurs to me then that maybe Inspector Meatbag here has been given a case in which he will forever be out of his depth. Maybe it's a test, maybe it's a punishment. All it means for me is opportunity.
'Ah, you want help identifying the makers of the missing pieces?'
'Yes. I hope you might also be able to tell me if you've seen any such parts in recent months.'
'I certainly can do that,' I offer, 'but the best person to consult remains the creator of the parts themselves.'
'That might not be possible. You see, all the parts we could trace back to a steamwright led back to a certain Dr. Asiheu, who has been missing for some time.'
'Wait a second... You mean several of the victims were clients of the same steamwright?'
Inspector Merig nods gravely as he spreads more pictures of close-ups on the table and takes notes as I systematically fail to remember ever seeing anything relevant, but offer several names for him to go and consult. It is my honest opinion that the woman first killed in Kodenshi had her work done by someone from the Eastern branch. By the time the Inspector rises again, shakes my hand and heads out with promises of 'being in touch', I am mentally exhausted. I lean against the locked door and lowered blinds, catching up on breath I've never run out of. In the darkened shop I make my way back to the table. I push the lever, one my grand-father so distastefully hid in the branch of a candelabra, and watch the slab of carved stone shift to reveal the staircase to the actual workshop, the one with my tools, the operating workbench and steam reactor.
I can almost feel it at my wrists, the invisible pull Linia has on me, my greatest work of Art.
She lays sprawled on the workbench, like a sultry painter's muse. We have another saying, more informal, that states that a client is never closer to perfection than when the world starts to doubt their humanity. She unfurls herself, titanium plates slithering over carved mother-of-pearl, tantalum rib cage pressing darkly against translucent syndermis, revealing the hydropump's viscous throbbing and the soft glow of her steam core, nestled under her heart. I reach out, brushing strands of hair back from her angular face, fingers gliding over the grooves and embossments etched as verdant jungle ferns across the planes of her brass temples.
'You heard.'
'I did,’ she murmurs against my palm. ‘They’ll never find Asiheu... But it seems I now own you as much as you own me.'
'You owned me from the start,' I say, chiding, and watch her eyes crease in her characteristic smile, the very same she gave me when she first came to me, a mangled toy with very little figure left to her, and figure, in steamwright lingo, refers to meat. Hers was a jigsaw of swollen, septic flesh, patch-worked with steel junk. She had no left arm, her jaw springs were slack and rusting, her hydropump was overheating her innards... She was a mess, a mockery of the Art. A malicious garage job.
'Who did this to you?' I asked.
She'd smiled with her eyes alone–blue eyes like windows into fields of ice that never thawed–arced into cold crescents. She lifted a sack and laid it across the counter between us, the mouth of it parting to reveal the bronze glimmer of joints, rubber fingertips and polycarbon tendons. I'd sealed my fate right then, by hastily gathering up the strings of the bag and reaching to the lever that would lock the atelier's door.
'Come. We can talk once I've given you some first aid.'
I'd seen the blood on the metal-composite fingers. I knew then, and every time thereafter, but she'd offered herself to me in full–this monster, this killer–to be my creation, if only I would make her perfect with the spoils of her vendetta.
And I was ever the perfectionist...
~~ September 2020 – Theme : Steampunk
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razieltwelve ¡ 5 years ago
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Heroic Fury (Worm/Final Rose)
Fury was supposed to be dead. In fact, he could definitely remembering closing his eyes for the last time on a hill with a wonderful view. It hadn’t been a bad way to go. He’d been one of the oldest chocobos in history, and he’d died with his best friend at his side after a life filled with glory and success. 
He’d kind of expected to wake up in the endless fields the chocobos all believed they went to when they died if they were worthy. Sure, he was basically a jerk, but saving the world more than fifteen times had to be worth something, right?
Apparently not.
Or maybe it was.
“Help!”
The words seemed to echo through his being, and he frowned. Like any self-respecting chocobo who’d lived for more than a decade or two, he was well aware of Aura and how to use it. What troubled him was that his Aura was now closely connected to a much smaller Aura signature, one he wasn’t familiar with, and that same signature was radiating distress.
“Someone, help! Please!”
Sighing, Fury jogged toward the source of shouting. He could just tell this would be troublesome. It didn’t take him more than a minute to reach the site of a car crash. His eyes narrowed. He knew what cars looked like. This car didn’t look like any model he’d seen before. The clothing the little girl tugging at the mangled doors of the car was wearing also didn’t match what people from Remnant wore.
Oh crap.
He’d listened to Diana rant enough times to realise where this was going.
He’d been reincarnated into another universe or something.
“Kweh.”
The little girl stopped, turned, and screamed.
“Ah!”
Rolling his eyes again, Fury tugged on the Aura link between them. It was how chocobos could make themselves understood. Normally, it took time to build up the resonance and closeness required, but for some reason the link was already in place.
“Stop panicking. Are those your parents in the car?”
The girl blinked, and her eyes widened. “Yes…”
“Move.” The girl scooted out of the way, and Fury simply tore the passenger door off its hinges before tugging the woman slumped against the airbag out with his beak. He repeated the process on the driver’s side. “Do you have a scroll?”
“A scroll?” the little girl asked. “What…?”
“A way to contact people.”
“Oh.” She shook her head. “I don’t have anything and…”
Fury sighed. This was already proving to be quite troublesome. “Which way is the closest town?”
“Um…” the girl pointed. “That way.”
“Fine.” Fury used his beak to lift the two adults onto his back before gesturing for the girl to climb on as well. “Hold on. This won’t take long.”
In his prime, Fury had been able to reach speeds well in excess of two hundred miles per hour. Heck, he could cruise at that speed for hours at a time. Unfortunately, he had three passengers, two of whom were in no condition to hold on. Instead, he was forced to go at much more sedate pace that still allowed them to reach the nearest town in a little under half an hour.
Naturally, they panicked when they saw him. He looked heavenward. Seriously? Of all the places he could have been reincarnated into, he had to get stuck in a world without any other chocobos?
X     X     X
Taylor stared at the massive bird in awe. Fury. That was his name. The seven-year-old was still trying to wrap her head around that. A talking bird. A talking bird that was more than ten feet tall. All she could remember about the crash was stumbling out of the car and seeing her parents not moving. She’d been so scared, and she’d wished that there was someone - anyone - who could help her. And then Fury had been there.
Even at the hospital he hadn’t left her side, and there was something comforting about his presence even if he wasn’t exactly the nicest bird. Some of the things he’d said about the way the doctors and nurses treated injuries weren’t very nice.
“They seriously don’t have nano-machine serums here? One of those would have your parents back on their feet within an hour.” The chocobo, as he called himself, scowled. “And don’t even get me started on your other technology. It doesn’t look like you even have holographic projectors.”
“Um… did the place you came from have those things?”
“We had spaceships too,” Fury said. He paused. “Wait… do you guys not have Grimm here?”
“Grimm?”
“Monsters that go around killing everything.”
“We… we have something kind of like that.”
“What do you mean?”
So Taylor, in the scared, halting manner of a seven-year-old told him about the Endbringers.
Fury growled. “It’s a pity my friend’s parents or siblings aren’t here. They’d have your Endbringer probably fixed by tomorrow.”
“…”
“Anyway, Taylor, it looks like we’ll be stuck with each other for a while.”
“Wait…” It suddenly dawned on Taylor what the situation might be. “Are… are you my power?”
“What?” Fury stared. “I’m not your Semblance.”
“What’s a Semblance?”
What followed was a strange conversation as Taylor tried to understand what Fury was saying about powers. Wherever he’d come from, they seemed to work differently from the powers Taylor knew about. When he was done, she tried to explain to him how powers worked.
“I get it.” Fury made a face. “That’s why we’re connected, I guess. Your ‘power’ must have acted like a beacon for whatever dumped me in this universe. I wish Diana was here. She’d figure it out.” Fury twitched. “Either way, you’re the only person with Aura that I’ve seen here.”
“Aura?”
“Oh, you’ll love Aura,” Fury explained. “Want to know what it can do?”
X     X     X
Danny looked up - way up - at the towering bird that stood beside his daughter. Not far away, Annette did the same. 
“This is Fury, dad.” Taylor smiled. “He saved you and mom.”
The bird looked only vaguely interested in being in the same room as him. 
“Uh…” Danny shook himself. “Taylor! Did you get powers?”
“Uh… kind of? Fury says it’s complicated.”
“…”
X     X     X
Author’s Notes
This is a bit of fun that I’ve been thinking of for a while. Dumping someone like Lightning or Averia into Worm can be a bit boring since they can curb stomp everything in Worm (and that includes Scion). Fury, however, is not capable of doing that, so he’s got a more interesting journey ahead of him with Taylor.
In this AU, Taylor should have triggered after her family got into a car crash. Instead, whatever force sent Fury there, prevented her from triggering and gave her Aura instead, as well as a helpful (if ornery) chocobo. Instead of Queen Administrator, Taylor will be getting a Semblance. In particular, she’ll be getting Mix and Match, a Semblance that allows for the creation of sentient constructs through combining different objects (e.g., combining a sufficiently large lump of steel with the corpse of badger could give you a giant steel badger). With sufficient crafting expertise and by bootstrapping her way up by combining constructs, she could potentially create constructs of incredible power. Keep in mind, Taylor will also have Aura and the advantages that brings. 
Since she ‘triggered’ at such a young age, this Taylor will end up joining the Wards much sooner. Everyone will also be convinced that Fury is a projection of sorts since, after some trial and error, Taylor realises that she can actually summon and dematerialise him. She is basically his anchor to this reality.
In typical Fury fashion, he is going to try to help her reach her full potential by subjecting her to the same training regimes he saw Taren go through. That’s going to be fun for her. Or not. He might also try to get her to build some of the things from Remnant. Sure, Fury is a chocobo, but he is highly intelligent and he’s seen Taren and the others handle technology enough to know how some of it is made. More fun for Taylor.
Incidentally, if you’re wondering about ratings, here’s how Fury would be rated:
Mover 5+. As one of the greatest chocobos in history, Fury is capable of reaching and maintaing speeds well in excess of 200 miles per hour for extended periods of time. Due to the abilities he possesses as an elite black-and-red chocobo with monstrous quantities of Aura, he can also run impeded across virtually any surface. This includes running across water, ice, and even up vertical surfaces. In principle, he can even run upside down although he dislikes doing it. Using his full speed, he can go supersonic for short bursts, something he uses in many of his more powerful attack techniques.
Brute 5+. Due to the natural durability of an elite chocobo and the effects of Aura, Fury can ignore small arms fire and even withstand multiple hits from anti-tank weaponry, assuming he can even be hit due to his speed. When focused entirely on defence, he becomes even more durable. Using his beak and claws combined with his Aura, Fury can easily tear through steel, concrete, and other durable materials. He would find it trivially easy to simply pierce through the side of a battleship with his beak if he used his Aura to reinforce the blow.
Thinker 3+. Fury has exceptionally well developed combat instincts. An entire lifetime spent fighting alongside Taren and his family have made him arguably the most experienced and skilled chocobo in history. He was able to keep up with S Tier huntsmen and huntresses in melee combat. To most opponents, it will seem like he knows what they’re going to do before they do.
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kitt-rider ¡ 5 years ago
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my emotional journey of the episode ‘knightmares’. i have A Lot To Say
so kitt and michael’s first interaction after michael loses his memory is this
kitt: michael? michael please, stop! it's me! kitt! *chase ensues, kitt leaps over something to get to michael* michael: *shoots at kitt in panic* alright out! hands away from your body! kitt: this is not quite the reunion i'd hoped for michael... michael: i said; get out of the car! kitt, sounding hurt: michael, have you really forgotten me? michael: has small flashbacks to kitt jumping kitt: are you alright? michael: no! no, i'm confused! nothing makes sense to me any more, this face, is not my face! my whole world has disappeared and now i'm talking to a car kitt: i think i can explain everything, michael michael: how do you know my name? kitt: we're partners you and i, we're a team. please, let me help you. get in michael: no thanks kitt: as you pointed out, i'm only a car. please. trust me 
and it. it’s a lot. there’s so much emotion in kitt’s voice here, like. something i’ve noticed is that they’ve grown so close that if they’re apart for too long, or don’t know what the other is doing or where they are or how they are, they freak out. if the watch breaks, or loses connection, they get really thrown off kilter, both of them. they’re so entwined that they feel lost without the other, as though they’ve become two halves of a whole. 
kitt sounds really hurt when he realises michael has forgotten him. this is the most human we’ve seen kitt so far, not that he hasn’t been before, but the emotional range in his vocals are just. they’re so raw and it’s so clear to anyone, even if this were to be the only episode they watched, that the two of them have something really special, that the two of them love each other. but then michael has little flashes of kitt jumping. it starts to come back to him. this is a big deal because it’s the first instance of him remembering something. kitt is so deeply embedded in him that his brain automatically responds quicker and easier to kitt, and kitt is a stronger trigger than anything else has been so far. 
kitt speaks very softly, coaxing michael with gentle words of love. the “trust me” absolutely killed me, idk why. maybe because michael DID end up trusting kitt and getting in, or maybe because it was just the gentleness of kitt’s words. i just. hnnnng.
so then michael gets in, freaks out, they go to the foundation, devon and april try to talk to him, they can’t, so he leaves. kitt follows. and the next interaction is this
*kitt is following michael who wants him to go, eventually they stop and michael opens the door* michael: i'd tell you to get this through your head but you're a machine, so run this through your data processor. get lost! kitt: i can't do that michael. i'm programmed to respond to your needs. despite your being unaware of it, you need me! michael: what if i don't want you? kitt: ...i suppose i'll be quite hurt  michael: ...alright. it is pretty hard to get around without a set of wheels. alright. i drive from here on kitt: absolutely. providing you'll promise me one thing michael: what? kitt: please do not refer to me as a car, or a set of wheels. it's most demeaning. i'm the knight industries two thousand. *wistfully* you always called me kitt...
OOF!!! mega oof! kitt can't stand michael calling him a machine because it's not right, his michael always treats him as a person, always calls him kitt, always refers to him as if he were a human bc kitt does have a soul, and he has personality like one. he's not used to michael being so standoffish and mean (although it's not really michael's fault since he's probably freaking out, and also it's like he's reverted to when he first met kitt when he didn't understand that kitt isn't just a machine) so he's. hurt. and his voice is all soft and wistful. it hurts for michael to refer to him as “machine” or even a “car”, because for so long michael has called him buddy, pal, or kitt, as kitt himself said. and it’s important to kitt that that continues, because he loves michael very much, and the thought that their relationship might not be as close as it once was is something he can’t bear. 
and then they drive and all that, we get michael literally calling kitt hot, and kitt smugly replying that he knows. and then on the way, more conversation and. 
michael: you know it's a terrible feeling, every time i pass a mirror or i see a reflection in the window... i see a stranger's face kitt: i wish i could help you regain your memory. especially your memory of ME. ...we have quite a history together
GOD. it's so much. it's all so much!!!!! kitt is desperate for michael to remember him, not just cause he's programmed for michael's sake, but bc he wants michael to remember him specifically, as he says. kitt is going all ways out of professional this episode, and his voice is just. especially when he says the history part, it's so, so soft and full of love and yearning. i can't get over them, honestly. the episodes where kitt is reprogrammed or removed from the car and where michael loses his memory are quickly becoming my favourites, mostly bc there's so much affection and love between them in it. like. their bond is so strong, and these episodes like to prove that that bond breaks through everything.
kitt wouldn’t say he wanted michael to specifically remember him over everything else if it were simply his programming/in a professional sense, which means he wants michael to remember him for HIM. because having a human he’s imprinted on so much feel indifferent to him is just awful, and insulting to the hell and high water they went through.
gahhhh and then! they get to the dam and michael gets in trouble, and goes “kitt! i need you!” and kitt excitedly goes “it’s about time!” AND I!!!! aside from the fact that “i need you” as a general phrase is A Lot to me, because i associate it with “i love you” and in fact, sometimes i need you is even more of a romantic gesture to say than i love you, it’s just so sweet how excited kitt is that things are falling back into place, that his michael is his michael again, and they’ll be a team once more.
then they head off, and kitt shows off his analyser and michael. “you.. .are a regular wonder on wheels, aren’t you?” and kitt “i like to think so”
AND THEN. AND THEN?!
michael: kitt? you said you knew me before the accident. what was michael knight like? kitt, softly and full of love: michael knight was bright, agile, often quite logical. he was also stubborn, impatient, readily distracted by pretty girls. and he listened to possibly the most appalling music to ever shatter my airwaves michael: sounds like my kinda guy kitt: yes that’s what i’m afraid of
and this interaction is so... affectionate? so loving. even though michael is still trying to remember, he smiles automatically, even jokes around a little. kitt analyses the material and then michael says he’s impressed. and then i get a damn BOMB dropped on me.
michael: kane’s? i’m impressed! i mean how does a chemical analyser identify a store? kitt: it didn’t! there’s a card inside michael, smiling: good work kitt kitt: oh one other thing about michael knight michael: what’s that? kitt: i was extremely fond of him
like. i have no words. it’s all right there. i can’t really say any more than what kitt did. and he says it as though it’s a fact. he says it as a way to describe michael, bc now, kitt is a part of michael, and everything that embodies him. kitt loves michael, and it’s a fact. it’s an identifier of who michael knight is. michael knight is someone kitt loves very much.
michael tries to get into a building that’s locked. kitt unlocks it
michael: should i say thanks? kitt: if you do i’ll say ‘you’re welcome’ michael: thanks! kitt; de nada (no problem, no need for thanks, you’re welcome)
god! can they BE any cuter? their interactions are so precious. 
once again we get an “i need you” from michael. i love that. it looks like from now on, that will be a regular thing, bc michael’s only just started saying it a couple of eps ago. something else i love is that the two of them fit back together quickly and easily. they’re already acting as a unit/as they did before not long after they’ve started working together again. they also bicker again, and it falls naturally into place.
michael: i got a hunch that door is not gonna stand in our way kitt: michael this is beginning to sound like old times! 
and then
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that’s michael’s expression in response. a warm, wide smile. things are coming together again. he’s starting to remember kitt.
AND THEN
kitt: michael i pride myself on never pointing out the obvious, but i’m afraid we’re driving into a trap michael: i’m not worried kitt, i have an edge. a secret weapon kitt: really? what is it? michael: you
and then kitt blushes!!! for sure! there’s no other way to see it! he’s blushing not only from being a little flustered that michael’s praising him like he did before, but also because even a little while of michael not being affectionate and loving towards him was awful and he’s so happy that michael is becoming more and more like his old self again that his “cheeks” glow with happiness. ugghgngn!!! god. so much! they are so much, and so in love.
so the girl is saved and everything is well. he regains his memory, and we end on michael and kitt being all domestic and married-coupley.
kitt: welcome back michael. i thought as a little present i’d play you some of that appalling music you like so much michael: thanks buddy. come on. let’s shatter some airwaves! *music plays* michael: you know i was thinking. i could have april install an electronic board here and she could hook it up to your speakers kitt: michael? michael: yeah? kitt: don’t press your luck michael: whatever you say pal, whatever you say
AND!! THAT IS JUST SO. coupley! hhhhhhh. and ofc, michael will take kitt on vacation. i was wondering for a moment if he wouldn’t, but that was dumb. of course michael will take kitt with him! he can’t stand to be apart from him! they both can’t stand it!
god. i kind of want to write a little ficlet of the vacay, and i probably will, because i am SO full of fluff. golly. what an episode! michael and kitt are in love and as the show goes on that just becomes more and more apparent <3
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astrology-with-charu ¡ 5 years ago
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18 Sept- 26 Dec Saturn finally goes direct!!! The new structure of life unveils from now to December in an area of our life where we would are experiencing the biggest restructuring & karmic release of our life time
Saturn has been retrograde since 29 April in the sign it rules Capricorn. Saturn rules the structural elements of our life, earth & administration. It gives us the perseverance to create the very foundations of our existence - our boundaries, our rules, our career, our body, building blocks of our life that let us function effectively & bring our talents our soul to material world.
During the retrograde period Saturn holds up external launch of new structure of our life cause it hits resistance within our inner life which if not removed won’t allow us to live that external reality with full potency & success. So last 4-5 months has been period of internal restructuring, frustration, resentment, arrested growth but at the same time rebuilding of a new rule book, warding out things / attitudes / people which are obstacles to our ability to take on this new responsibility & opportunity of new structure of our life. Saturn in retrograde stage breaks down our ego & sometimes negativity which is accumulated which keeps us away from assimilating our ideal with material. Unknowingly in past few months we have created a new code of conduct, a new unsaid boundary of what we would or would not accept going forward in our life.
That’s the thing with Saturn - a lot is unsaid & understated - yet without its work we wouldn’t accomplish anything in material or spiritual world as it creates a mountain of persistence within us so doing the requisite work for accomplishing what we need becomes part of our DNA.
In Hindu mythology Saturn is represented as Kurma, tortoise - an incarnation of Lord Vishnu (the creator), who lifted the mountain so Gods could churn the ocean to retrieve the usefulness - usefulness is born due to work we do under the influence of Saturn - so past four months have been our own individual process of creating inner strength to lift up our own mountains.
And now with Saturn going direct we have a lift off. It’s time to lift that mountain so usefulness is birthed. As Saturn is in Capricorn no matter where you are lifting your mountain it would have influence of solidifying your professional foundations, your foundations as a leader of whatever domain you might be looking to be the lead on - efficiency is birthed - core strength is born to be the kind of leader of our personal or professional life that knows when to say no and draw healthy boundaries. The leader who knows what to choose, what to Detox, what to move away from as it doesn’t have longevity & to move to what has grounding to survive the next 30 years of our evolution which we are moving towards.
Saturn will retrace the path it traversed since 29 April from now to Christmas - making visible changes in framework of our life to reflect the inner re-engineering it has done in last four months. Imagine last four months as you going through process of rewriting the rules of your life - what profession, life commitment to whom, what to say yes to what not to when it comes to responsibilities, what you need for your material growth & Stability - imagine now that rule book being implemented. The theory merging with action till December. As soon as Saturn is done with this journey we would have a Solar eclipse on 26 Dec’19 prompting us - your new life is ready now to be lived - it becomes our new reality.
Saturn churning turning direct is subtle as is the planet itself but its gifts are real, material, Long lasting - this is about getting what we need & it might come in forms different from what we want. Saturn is like a responsible parent - it knows well to give you time to adjust to what it’s about to unfold as your new path which it was doing in last four months - but it also knows well to also give you what you truly need & what’s right for you. Cause sometimes what we want is not what we need. Hence the delay, hence the need of time, hence the retrograde but that’s why what’s created gives benefits for a life time.
So over next 14 weeks, we will see structure of our life change in ways we didn’t originally plan but over last four months we have been internal restructured to move from what we wanted to what we truly need - some call it reality checks, some call it maturing a dream.
A special note for my fellow Cardinal signs (Aries, Cancer, Libra, Capricorn) - this adjustment has been nothing short of a struggle in last few months & we might have resisted this change with all our might only to realise now that this feeling of entrapment, anger, frustration, banging against the wall - was all but a cocoon phase getting us ready & building our strength for a more responsible & prosperous tomorrow. This is our light at the end of the tunnel so take heart. All of us will feel this in one of or other area of our life.
Degrees & Dates
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Saturn is turning at 13°55” which is a degree of unearthing what has permanent value & releasing what’s non essential - the very Essence of Saturn. Outdated positions & establishments will be seen demolished & unearthed as a result in administrations, organisational structures, country structures & borders.
This is the degree of Isaac Newton, J. R. R. Tolkien, Louis Braille - us finding a new language to give words to our identity - which we have realised as our intrinsic truth - us finding our voice & now creating real material things out of it.
It comes in conjunction with Star Wega - which was linked to Ma’at, the great Egyptian goddess of justice, truth & balance, who helped souls move from one life to another as it would be helping us transition forward. Measuring our heart/ soul & the weight of it as did Ma’at to see if we have released what’s required to move forward - a karmic justice of sorts & settlement of it in fair terms.
Upcoming Libra season will test all of us on it, that’s why right off the door Mercury and Venus will make a hard aspect of test with Saturn on 22 & 25 Sept - keep your strength - remember the lessons of past months - where in the past we said yes when we should have said no. Bring your new boundaries, foundations, strength, power , rule book for a test drive in coming days.
We are all work in progress but how far we have come will come to display around 7th & 14th October when we are put in a position to use our strength in disagreements or partnerships or relationships with people who form integral part of our personal & professional life. We are tested on our ability to move out of our comfort first zone. October is a Cardinal month - definitive directional crisp actions.
Karmic Trigger Dates
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Turning of Saturn always sets the stage for a karmic release as fantasy meets reality - non productive relationships, structures, projects, associations are released & new structure is set. The trigger dates of that are in my view between 28 Oct to 2 Nov when we will see karmic event occur to mark this new start under the influence of the new moon in Scorpio - with truth & strength.
We will experience this very strongly in global events as I mentioned in my July eclipse videos - We will see activation of two Solar eclipses of this year between 28 Oct to 2 Nov - I expect major world events to occur in this period related to government, restructuring, aggressive redefining actions leading to new order we expect to begin in Jan 2020.
Which area of life are you moving mountains ?
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I spoke in detail about Saturn’s influence for each sign in your Sept monthly video but briefly - below is area of life where you might be experiencing the biggest restructuring & setting up solid foundations to reap material rewards for long term.
https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLv3tUTLu8-MTbf4G38ErxOlmA1ghAPtrk
Do note Saturn in Capricorn always brings influence to our public life - our external talk & in turn our leadership style irrespective of where it’s acting per your rising / sun / moon sign - it helps us define our usefulness - our service to the world so in day to day in one way or another we would see this shift bring clarity in our careers or what we call our “service”.
Naturally a lot of effort is going in this area but more importantly a new structure is about to emerge here which you would be living in 2020.
Perseverance, patience, willingness to serve, dissolving ego to release what’s not ours, releasing thoughts causing inefficiency of our mind, depending on our inner strength instead of external applause, drawing on your inner strength when external events seem to beat us down, paying dues before the rewards are key asks of lord of karma Saturn.
You can bookmark this article here - http://emailabuddy.com/blog/?p=800
So let’s settle a few karmic scores as the tide turns💫
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♈️ #Aries - Career, public life, leadership style, authority
Saturn is prompting restructuring of your career, organisational structure of your company or organisation or structure you are integral part of & redefining your place in the works & your contribution, leadership style, your way of servicing & contributing, your official title & reputation or public image. Our identity physically & emotionally is redefined which in term influences our family life & home. Relationship with Father or fathers life goes through shifts as well. This is a new chapter in who you are known as & what you are creating as a leader for long term to contribute meaningfully to society in long run. Your place in the work, your personal brand of leadership, your public image is being relaunched & redefined for long run. Physical health needs discipline and bones / structure of body should be built on.
~14° or 21° Aries will feel this the most in coming days; that’s around 3/10 Apr born for Aries Sun though all of you will experience this shift as it’s one of most important transit of next 30 years for you. Good luck 💫
♉️ #Taurus - Education, publication, travel, belief system, life purpose, visa, Father
Saturn is restructuring your higher mind, your knowledge, your belief system - prompting you to learn more, teach more, publish more, gain more knowledge through life experiences so you can become an effective guru, teacher, spiritual influence, established authority who can guide people across cultures & geographies. But to be a good teacher & influencer we first need to be a good student of life. Saturn turning direct shows you 1) the path forward, your higher purpose, your meaningful path 2) grants expansion of mind through higher education & achievement in the same, foreign influences / business travel, on job training, a mentor, legalisation or visa to foreign land and more importantly 3) gives you pathway to share your higher mind & teachings through publications of meaning, intellectual technical work which is shared with diverse set of people. Your life purpose & belief system - the spiritual code you live by is forever changed to adjust to a higher growth path you are now on. Your service & life purpose involves changing other people’s mind & belief system by being a mentor, a teacher who leads by example.
~14° or 21° Taurus can benefit the most in coming days; that’s around 4/11 May born for Taurus Sun though all will experience a shift in this area of life.
♊️ #Gemini - Rebirth, baptism by fire, healing, power, joint resources
Saturn is restructuring how you establish authority & power in joint situations to get fair share of proceeds of partnerships - personal or professional so money & intimacy, equipping you to be independent, healing you from within detoxing your past & karmic attachments or addictions that hold your power & emotional-physical health back. This is baptism by fire, rebirth & rise of Phoenix you name it - it’s powerful to say the least - more importantly it’s redefining your joint resources - partners finances & your joint destiny, your ability to manage other people’s money, it’s restructuring how you merge with others - how you retain your individuality, power, potential - it’s making you powerful, impactful in your dealings with others. Saturn has been chipping away at every fiber of karmic weakness that existed in your way of being by possibly exposing you to situations where fear & past losses had no place to exist anymore. It has taken you deep to places you normally don’t like to access & brought you back up stronger & surer. Having redefined your core, now is the time to bring this show to the road - bring this independence, sense of self, power, healing to transform financially, powerfully, physically, sexually. Your contribution or service to the world could possibly involve you digging deep , doing deep research on matters related to finance or medicine or occult, managing other people’s money, being part of power structure by being a force of transformation who brings out the new in a place that’s getting old or outdated. This isn’t an easy process but it’s one that introduces you to another dimension of you that you have not seen before.
~14° or 21° Gemini will feel this the most in coming days; that’s around 4/11 Jun born for Gemini Sun though all of you will experience this shift
♋️ #Cancer - Partnership, clients, one on one relationships, critics, contracts
Saturn is restructuring your one on one relationships, partnerships, how you deal with your interest versus that of people in your life & your duty or obligations towards them, it’s redefining your rulebook of way of responding to your critics, it’s rewriting your commitments - kind of contracts you engage in or how you engage your clients. People close to you or in close relationships with you might have been in a process of churn, change, restructuring as who you commit to is being redefined. Also who is your influencer is redefined as we find ourself in presence of powerful people - who become our influencers, our Teachers, they refine who we are by our association with them. We find our self identity redefined through our relationships & our decisions taken with our business & personal partners. Long term Long lasting associations are made & old associations are released as our contracts go through complete restructure & redefinition. Verdicts are passed decisions are made for Long term - from your Real Estate agent, your doctor, your best friends to your business partner or life partner - all your close associations have been topic of reconsideration, restructure cause Saturn is asking you write a new rule book that allows you to give your best in commitments & when we aren’t allowed to be who we truly are we can’t give our best. So many of these old associations which have outlived their time, karma might be released as new Long term contracts are drawn & new life commitments are made. Our physical & emotional health & endurance is tested but we are given tools & discipline to rebuild strong foundations if any weakness is found. Now is the time to build this new life with your new rules & life commitments on strong footing.
~14° or 21° Cancer will feel this the most in coming days; that’s around 5/11 July born for Cancer Sun though all of you will experience this shift as it’s one of most important transit of next 30 years for you - as is for like United States of America & it’s close allies or foes.
♌️ #Leo - work environment, health routines, work hierarchy
Saturn is restructuring your work environment, work hierarchy, job, obligations, your duties to elders - your parents, your rule book & boundaries used in dealing with coworkers, kind of projects you taken on, how to manage your team or your relationship with your environment, how much of your work life seeps into your physical & mental health and well being. Getting efficient in terms of kind of projects or responsibilities we takeon, having clear boundaries, detoxing immediate work environment, getting right kind of support structure at work, making sure we say no where a no is overdue in terms of obligations which compromise you & your health, paying our dues to our elders, cutting ties with the duties & obligations where karma is done and it’s time to move forward to be able to contribute what we came here to do, are all themes, objectives of Saturn and it’s turning direct allows you to manifest this. It allows you to create a structure of health & diet improvement that your body deserves & needs or reap benefits of work already done in this area. Work promotions, team restructuring, change in work hierarchy, renting an office space, changing work place or improving it, end of a karmic duty to family, effectively dealing with hereditary health issues, successful & more stable way to perform your duties, having right coworker support or team under you to support you are ways in which the karmic settlement of Saturn can turn out. Net result is a better Long term way of dealing with your obligations to make an impact of the order you desire. This is not an easy placement but letting this mold us can strength our mind body connection - our ability to change our perceived work environment by our thoughts our mind - as well as disciple to set right boundaries & support at job or in our obligations to give space to better health. Your contribution is improved by prioritising your wellbeing.
~14° or 21° Leo will feel this the most in coming days; that’s around 6/13 Aug born for Leo Sun though all of you will experience this shift
♍️ #Virgo - giving birth to your legacy - a business venture, a child, love, investment risk
Saturn is restructuring your ability to take risks in your personal & professional life - taking you to heights of pleasure through a path of pain & hardwork - this is toil of blood & sweat done to create what we would like to call our legacy. A business venture you are passionate about, a child you find as an extension of you, a love commitment you would like to keep life Long, a Creative work that’s your dream, an investment risk you are taking which feels just right or a new framework of taking investment risk that you are creating - they are all part of gifts of Saturn here which are crowning in this last push of labor after nine months of non stop efforts. Framework has been in process, restructuring has been in process - what’s coming now is rolling out what you have planned - setting the plan into action. Last stages of major Creative or business venture work, next stage in child’s development or education or in your responsibility as a parent, solidifying your love commitments, powerful friends, taking on an investment risk beyond your past capacity after long consideration, are ways in which your legacy might be in process of being born.
So far we have been conservative, detailed, may be even inhibited in our confidence of things working out but Saturn turning direct gives us a solid footing - a knowing that something long lasting is being created. Later in December when Jupiter comes to this area too we will go bolder & bigger - for now we will tick all the boxes & be exacting, be meticulous to make sure we are filtering out any unwanted investment & personal risk as we start seeing concrete progress on work done in last nine months.
~14° or 21° Virgo can benefit the most in coming days; that’s around 6/13 Sept born for Virgo Sun though all will experience a shift in this area of life.
♎️ #Libra -Home, Family, real estate, inner foundations - your core, support system
Saturn is restructuring your emotional foundations cause you gotto strengthen the base when your opposite house of career is being expanded so you have the requisite support system to take on more visible public life & career path. So we have been mending, repairing, paying our dues to our family duties, to our place of living - enhancing, fencing, repairing, strengthening it. It’s our survival instincts - what do we do when no one’s watching - how do we feel secure, what & who do we draw on, what gives us comfort, what’s the strong core we fall back on when external life puts us in spotlight. You are creating a life time of strong emotional foundations, family structure, support system, physical home of solid footing to support your public aspirations. In the process of it all you are meeting you as you complete this last stage of maturation of your inner world. Leaks in our home or emotional life have been highlighted & worked on - nows the time to build upon this solid foundation - like when property development begins on a land that’s been thoroughly raked & levelled post demolition all ready to resurrect a solid high rise on. We are ready for new structure of our public life as we see support from our inner foundations at soul level, having detoxed the elements & patterns that wouldn’t work in your expanded career or public life or whatever new title of worldly responsibility you are about to take on.
~14° or 21° Libra will feel this the most in coming days; that’s around 7/14 Oct born for Libra Sun though all of you will experience this shift as it’s one of most important transit of next 30 years for you. Good luck 💫
♏️ #Scorpio - Commercial & Communication skills, our mind, courage
Saturn is restructuring refining our mind & talk - internal & external - creating efficiency in the way we talk, think, connect, communicate, express our ideas, our thoughts; how we influence & connect with our immediate environment. Life long skills that yield value for our lifetime are created, refined, aced under this influence. More importantly any inefficient & weakness of our mind, our courage is worked on to create a new foundation of how we think, talk, write, express our commercial & intellectual skills. We study, write, self educate, take online courses, edit refine define our work, our marketing strategy, our voice, our messaging; more importantly we Detox old thinking patterns that keep us stuck or don’t let us connect positively with our immediate environment. Things that test our courage, strength of our mind come up. Saturn turning direct opens the path to now bring this stronger, firmer mindset; the skills we have honed, polished, improved upon; the contracts, communication or commercial projects we have drafted envisioned reviewed; our views thoughts ideas that we have been mulling over - now to the world - launching the new framework of sharing your views with the world. Publish, write, speak, travel, take short trips, gain license to practice your new skills, read, gain gather collate publish important information, get contracts written agreements through, influence through your mind & speech - its a new mindset which unveils a different material reality for you as our thoughts create our reality. This rebirth of your mind & courage. In few cases new structure of siblings career can also unfold.
~14° or 21° Scorpio can benefit the most in coming days; that’s around 6/13 Nov born for Scorpio Sun though all will experience a shift in this area of life.
♐️ #Sagittarius - Material resources, self worth & networth, assets, diet
Saturn is restructuring your value system, your ability to generate long term abundance through giving you the persistence to develop skill sets that will reap you material benefit & increase your self worth over long period of time. At the same time, it has been prompting you to Detox your expenses, assets, get more involved in financial planning for future, make sure you have sound foundations of material resources to support you. Saturn cuts through the unnecessary, the inefficiencies in how we use our resources - physical & mental - so your energy, your time, your skills, your mindshare is being focused on specific projects or jobs or sources of income - releasing making space for what’s important relevant lucrative & Long term for you when it comes to sources of income. Having gone through a tedious process of setting this rule book, now is the time to get the show on the road - launch this new framework, this new revenue source, new skill set & create value from it. Serve the world with your skills, your organisational capabilities, your ability to turn around financial situations & creating value out of situations. Key skill that’s created with this is ability to spot opportunities that can generate stable revenue. Key value system that this builds within you is of confidence that you can turn any situation around - most importantly that your self worth isn’t attached to any specific asset or bank balance or a number. As much as you are launching the framework of building that bank balance but you are launching a new worth - you are whose value has been enhanced - you are the valuable asset in this & it’s been all about enhancing your value both as a skilled person as well as a person of strong value system. So Saturn turning direct now brings this sense of self, this product of this whole ordeal - you - now to the outer world & they see the the new framework of you that you have created as you create both material & spiritual abundance in coming days. Your physical body is a resource too, so diet, enhancing your physical strength is very much an integral part of this value adding exercise you have embarked upon - make ful, use of the discipline of Saturn to set a long term health & diet program.
Launch this new framework of value creation till December when your ruler Jupiter also comes in this area of your chart - expanding the work you have done so far, adding scale, prosperity to it further.
♑️ #Capricorn - All of you - your career, body, how you show up to the world
Capricorn your ruler in your sign first time in 30 years is nothing short of getting a new life - it’s a complete reset & it might have felt like pulling teeth while it was retrograde in past few months as it’s been having us work on our inner world, our emotions, strengthening us from within to make our core strong to take on more responsibilities as well as achievements that lay ahead of you to be had. Saturn helps us become the best version of ourself, shedding negative habits, attitudes & yes it shows us the weakness in our ways of handling things but also gives us the tools to strength every inch of weakness that existed in our physical, mental, moral fiber to be more, to be all we can be. Having dealt with the lesson of patience & old limitations, this is where the tide turns as it’s time to start launching the new framework of you both in your professional & personal life - your new rule book that’s based on realisation of what truly matters to you, what’s for you, who is for you & how to effectively be the authority of your life no matter what sphere of your life. Our ego has been dissolved for it was required for the higher powers to mold us in the direction in the way we needed to go - usefulness & strength is given birth to. It’s not an easy rebirth but your sign wasn’t built with such huge endurance for easier things. As they say uneasy lies the head that wears a crown - but nows the time to wear the crown - take your new responsibility, leadership, higher position on & next few months you will see yourself stepping into that role as unknowingly or knowingly the rules of your life & what you want out of it has changed. Since you aren’t the same person internally now your external reality has to reflect who you have become. That’s the process of next few months till December & you will find support to get there. As one key lesson of past few months has been also to ask for support & knowing who to ask & how to ask. Past months also created clear awareness of what has Long ended in our life & now we get the framework, strength & impetus to release it for food, for when you have decided to be more you cannot be less - you simply cannot go back. There is peace, ease, strength, more importantly there is truth in our path ahead which makes us feel comfortable to be in our own skin as our new life unveils in front of us & damn you have worked for it!
Health is key focus - make sure what you have learned about your body in past few months you make that discipline of your lifetime, right now you have the strength & impetus to do it, set it in stone. Personal achievements, status, shift in your position in hierarchy of an organisation, moving forward in a family obligation or progress in your journey as a parent, progress in career or your public reputation, progress in a key life decision or resolution of a verdict - are various ways Saturn can unlock things which were held up structurally.
~14° or 21° Capricorn will feel this the most in coming days; that’s around 5/12 Jan born for Capricorn Sun though all of you will experience this shift as it’s one of most important transit of next 30 years for you. Good luck 💫
♒️ #Aquarius - Release, Faith, fears, hidden strength & talents, Devine timing or intervention
Saturn your ruler, is restructuring all that’s below the surface hidden even from us - our fears, phobias, inhibitions. It’s refining our strengths we didn’t see before - our hidden talents, our unknown beneficiaries, our angels, our own core strength, our faith & bringing all of that in play as we are setting the stage for our ruler Saturn to enter your sign in Mar 2020 which is nothing short of living a new life . This is the cadent period, the period of preparing, paying our dues, our karmic obligations to higher powers, to our parents, to our vocation, we are diligently serving our responsibilities behind the scene for we know this period of solitude - “The Silent years” as Bible described it - is when your whole environment within you is shifting which shifts your external existence for long run. This is your reservoir - the place we draw from unknowingly whenever we need to do what has to be done - you are strengthening that reservoir - dealing with your own demons within & outside one set for all so they don’t come in the path you are carving for yourself. Spiritual practices are set, faith is strengthened, healing is achieved, involuntarily we pay any dues as we deal with every shaky pebble in our career path & our physiological life without much noise & ado. Having been through the inner journey which was deep over last few months - now we bring those hidden talents, that strength, that faith into play to visible world. It’s when responsibilities are effectively dealt with ease, our psychological / spiritual /healing discipline starts showing external results in how you deal with your work, your relationships, your coworkers, your projects, your enemies / critics / adversaries, any government or authority dealings. You are on a Mission, others may not know it but you know what it is - it becomes easier to work on that Mission - your “service” to the world.
The health practices & spiritual practices you have developed in this phase are your support for life time as is the faith & psychological strength you have developed. We feel a bit lighter cause this is the house of karmic burdens & a weight is being lifted off as we finally make progress in our path. I call this phase as “phase of God’s timing” or whatever higher powers you believe in cause it’s a very destined or karmic time when the more you release control from the situation - the more the situation moves in the direction you want - I learned my biggest life lessons in this phase - not to try to control my destiny too much. We aren’t the best story tellers so why be intent on it -allow your life to flow- it will take you places your own imagination never travelled to. Work will always be there - it’s your default mode you always put in the work - it’s more about our ego which makes us want it to result in an exact output. Saturn here is more intent in changing our insides - our ego, our undoing versus external life - it’s been at it for past few months now you see the benefit of releasing that control as life takes you to places you didn’t originally plan to go. Where is the magic in knowing everything 👼
♓️ #Pisces - Vision, hopes, dreams, friends, social network
Saturn is restructuring what your life’s vision is - what you need to create in this life time that would outlast you - your dream, your vision, its concrete, it’s substantial, it has element of service which benefits groups of people or collective. At the same time it’s restructuring who will go on this journey with you - who are your friends, Long term supporters, fam base, the platform that builds you, launches you at wider scale - your social presence & business network and influence is being redefined & refined. Past few months might have been time of arrested growth in external growth cause we were restructuring our inner self to adjust to what we are about to embark upon. Before we can influence others, benefit others, we need to be sure of our own messaging, our own vision, we need to be sure of what platform we would use, which groups we would be part of or influence. Having been through months of this restructuring - now with Saturn direct we have lift off & launch of our vision in coming months. Support from authorities, network, influential business partners, wealthy friends, platform launches, breaking through influential group, taking a group along on a Mission & achieving socially, launching your talents at wider scale -are ways in which Saturn going direct can benefit in coming weeks to you. Restructuring your passions to make them useful for masses or relaunching your creative work in a modified format or with a modified appeal or on a modified platform or to a different set of society or group could be ways to make wider impact. We pay our dues to society here by using our instrinsic skills or talents and make them available to your supporters, society, groups at events, or through online means, or through influential friends or business partners. You are here to make an impact on wider scale - this is the phase when tools required to make it happen come through & this could be in creative field or in a corporate hierarchy. Powerful people & influences that reshape our life path usually meet us changing our view of our life & talent - this might have already happened & now we launch with new life with diligence & perseverance.
~14° or 21° Pisces can benefit the most in coming days; that’s around 4/11 Mar born for Pisces Sun though all will experience a shift in this area of life.
#SaturnDirect #Saturn #dailyhoroscope #weeklyhoroscope #monthlyhoroscope #horoscopes #horoscopeposts #astrologyposts #astrologypost #horoscopepost
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emmdaenovice ¡ 5 years ago
Text
Towards a better future #1
Daminete
#1
next
So I should probably put a few trigger warnings on this
Ah, suicide, abuse, um… depression, mature readers only?
On a cool night in Pairs Marinette Dupain-Cheng stood alone on the highest spot on the Eiffel tower she could climb to while not being a danger to herself and a potential nasty mess on the sidewalk. She looked at the stars hiding behind a thick layer of cloud, or at least she imagined they were there, silently sparkling looking down on all. thinking that holding onto faith is only easy thing to do when its something physical, like the stars. As you see her faith was slowly wavering, mostly due to her miraculous partner Chat Noir but also Paris’ civilians, and. Herself.
It all began barely a month ago, it’s amazing how Marinette’s world could change this much in a small matter of time. She and her parents traveled to China to visit her Uncle, Wing Cheng, partially to escape from the stress of school life (a holiday) and also because of the grand finale of the D.A.B,’s cooking competition. Which no one was surprised when it was announced that Wing was winning. Marinette was so excited for so many reasons, she would be able to see her extended family again and get some more ideas for this new jacket she’s working on, and new inspiration, all the colours, flora, fauna, people, trends, smells, people, places, things!… She had to remind herself daily that she as Marinette Dupain-Cheng could to do all of those things but, she wasn’t just here as Mari. No, what not many people know is that Ladybug and Chat Noir planned to meet in Beijing for a secret mission to involve more miraculous holders and guardians in their mission to defeat Hawkmoth.
The plan started when Chat Noir informed Ladybug that he would be unavailable due to the psychopathic wishes of his father, forcing him to relocate for a few months.
Ladybug and Chat Noir had become closer and closer with each fight they won together and now found themselves in a sibling like relationship. They knew almost everything about each other, except their identities. Which neither of them really knew why but resorted to the explanation of the danger it would cause if one of them was compromised. To say that they trusted each other with everything was an understatement. Because of this Ladybug knew there was nothing she could do about Chat Noir leaving, the fact that the father managed to be a helicopter parent, an absent parent and a psychopath with trust issuers all in one makes her head spin. So, she decided she would make the best of the situation.
Marinette began to pull stings to make sure everything fell into place perfectly, she encouraged Wing to compete in the D.A.B’s, began letting cracks in her emotions show through to her family more than usual, asked if they were going on any upcoming trips, she researched and planned way into the night for months, this would be the most successful trip Ladybug and Chat Noir took together in the history of miraculous. They would find help, and they will take down Hawkmoth. Chat Noir bid his good buy to ladybug and the semi-permanent team of miraculous holders consisting of Rena Rouge, Carapace, Viperion and Ryuko. Ladybug then explained that she was also going to be out of area for a while but will always have the miraculous of teleportation on her for Akuma purification and emergencies. She trusted the group with small Akuma’s but didn’t think Alya and Nino really took the job seriously, Marinette blames herself for not giving the Kawami better matching holders.
So, the plans were set, everything was ready, she was ready.
Chat Noir and ladybug often conversed and went through the plan of attack through the days after Ladybugs arrival. To be honest that’s false, they were trying to find the bloody thing, the entrance to Hunan’s miraculous league. They found information on it thanks to the miraculous book and some odd new posts hidden deep within the internet. One might think that this was a long shot and it was, but it was the only shot they had. They needed adults, people with expert knowledge on battle strategies, physical and mental training, detective skills, … someone with a car. Literally anything would help, they both agreed that nothing would get worse in this situation as why they were trying their best to find it. Oh boy how they were wrong.
When they finally found it, they were ecstatic, so excited to learn more and to finally get help, but they were met with unenthusiastic faces. It seems that this ancient place only held artifacts of the past, no trainers, no holders, no guardians not even Miraculous. To say they were heartbroken would be an understatement. Marinette found herself slipping through the superhero façade as a single tear fell as soon as they were out of the temple, which soon was followed by more until they turned in to full on sobs as Chat Noir held his lady tight whispering sweet nothings into her hair. She knew she shouldn’t have gotten her hopes up, she tries to always expect the worse when it comes to new material on miraculous and hero work, but she couldn’t help herself. Just this one time she hopped things would go her way. After a while she calmed down and realised how she was truly thankful for her partner, the beautiful heart and hair of gold, mischievous little tom cat, her Chat Noir. They conversed and decided to take a deeper look at all of the artefacts the next day to see if they missed something, and to also discover where the mysterious aura within the temple walls was coming from.
They returned to Paris the next day at an alarming pace as they both realised that they haven’t been called over to help in any battles all week let alone purify any Akuma. They both came up with possible scenarios that would explain their absence but most of them were impossible or much in the worse scenario possible category. When they arrived in Paris they found that everything was quite normal, everything seemed to be in place, they located the hero’s and discovered that Hawkmoth hasn’t attacked in quite some time… This freaked the duo even more so. The heroes have been looking after petty crimes for the past 7 days without any suspicious activity at all. Well at least Viperion and Ryuko have. It seems that Rena Rouge and carapace have been keeping up the social experience of the team, to an extent where they were over sharing. Ladybug was furious at this for first not telling her about the suspicious activity (and yes no activity counts as suspicious activity) and secondly for sharing private information about their hero work to the public. Furious doesn’t even begin to describe what she was feeling especially when she found out that Rena Rouge was sharing yet again information, but about the hero’s personal lives, and even identity on Alya’s blog. This time she had gone too far. Chat Noir stood besides his lady silently supporting her as she disciplined his friends, he couldn’t say that he wasn’t mad, he thought he could trust them with more than this, they broke his trust.
It might be because Chat Noir’s and Ladybugs spirits were already broken but they were seriously thinking of the next best step to take as permanent miraculous holder and guardian. Drastic measures such as demoting them to normal civilians was thrown around, but they decided against that, instead they planned to revisit the situation when their civilian identities came back home, and their minds refreshed. They spent the rest of that day checking out potential suspects relating to Hawkmoth. When It came to Gabriel Agreste they weren’t sure how high or low to put him on the list of suspects, but when they visited his mansion to find that he was absent struck a cord with Marinette. She knew something was wrong. Chat Noir didn’t seem too keen on looking around the place determined that his father was a good person.
‘He just doesn’t seem like the type of guy you know?’
‘Chat I don’t think anyone thinks that a fourteen-year-old could ever be Ladybug, suspects are suspects’
When Chat wouldn’t tell her why he was acting weird Ladybug dismissed it as Him just feeling weird being in her old crushes house.
Ladybug found herself feeling off in the house, an especially when it came to Gabrielle’s study, a feeling in the pit of her stomach like a void sending sparks down her legs. They let Kaalki explore the room as they had her on handy, exited to be in a famous person’s study she eagerly obliged to snooping around the room. She zoomed quickly around the room knocking over books and papers, which Chat Noir quickly put back into place, as she finally took a plunge into the floor. They both stood there for a minute conversing in whether a Kawami can get stuck in the ground or not, but didn’t have to act as Kaalki soon flew out beneath the floorboards slower than before with a grim look on her face.
‘Well, what did you see?’ Chat said eagerly wondering what the Kawami found. Forgetting to drop a pun in the process. The Kawami only looked solemnly at the guardian.
‘I advise you to never go down their” she said, almost afraid of the words she spoke
‘Kaalki, why? What’s down there?’ Ladybug spoke, the Kawami squirmed and Chats face paled. What could be down there? What could be down there that a Kawami that has been around for thousands of years is afraid of?
‘I do not wish to speak the horrors. But I can confirm that Gabriel Agreste is in fact Hawkmoth’ her words hung beneath them like a dead man swinging side to side by a noose.
‘What.’ Was all Chat Noir could say. His mind a mess filled with memories and arguments. Finding there was two sides of himself, one that always knew and one who knows he’s innocent.
‘Are you sure’ Ladybug said grimly. meanwhile Chat Noir sat down on his father’s desk staring at the painting of his mother, his emotions running astray within his heart.
“my guardian I am sure as the sky is blue.’ Kaalki looked up at the duo both with horror and sorrow in their eyes, ‘There is refinance of the torcher of Kawami down there as well as a room filled with butterfly’s and Akuma alike. Not to mention a motive for his wish’ she continued.
‘We need to get down their’ Chat Noir decided.
‘You can’t access the tunnels from here there all been sealed off mechanically.’ She thinks for a moment ‘We can open it with Hawkmoth present’
Ladybug thought for a minute, she doesn’t want to attack a man without seeing the proof herself… But she trusts the words of her Kawami ‘Ok’ Ladybug decides ‘lets go find Gabriel Agreste’.
‘I’m glad you decided on this, It is the best to have a clear head while defeating Hawkmoth and this room will do quite the opposite’ Ladybug feeling true terror within her for a moment then turned to Chat Noir.
‘We have to find Gabriel Agreste’ she said with a determining tone ‘if I was an evil mastermind, where would I be if I weren’t at my house?’ Ladybug thought out loud. Finally coming to her senses she sees Chat Noir on the floor.
‘Hey, you ok?’ she sits down next to him and pulls him into a hug ‘Perhaps Hawkmoth has gone to catch butterfly’s’ she laughs trying to make light of the mood, trying to put a smile on his face. But Chat Noir, Adrien Agreste has never felt more conflicted in his life, his emotions were tearing him up inside, all he felt like doing was crying. He would be safe in his lady’s lap, within the embrace of his partner, his best friend, she would listen to him. ‘heck maybe he’s taken a vacation to Hawaii.’ Chat Noir jolts out of Ladybugs arms, quickly remembering where his father is and why he might be there.
“He’s in China.’ he spoke as if there was a hair ball in his mouth.
‘What.’ Ladybugs eyes wide as he has ever seen them ‘Chat what do you mean?’
‘Ladybug. Gabriel Agreste is in China.’
The statement dropped out of the cat’s mouth and rolled around the floor. This is bad. It couldn’t be, that he was also looking for the hidden miraculous association in Hunan like they were… right? No, of course not. Probably, because everything that can go wrong must.
The pair teleported to the temple once again fighting large tree branches in the way, they had no time to care for the nature in the way of their path. They had to get to the association as soon as possible, they had to make sure that everyone was ok, sure they were unhelpful but that doesn’t mean they deserve to suffer at the hands of Hawkmoth. Questions like these and more flowed through their head faster than a cat jumping out of water like; what was Kaalki  so afraid of, is Gabriel really Hawkmoth, where do my parents think I am now, what am I going to do now, will we win? After all these years of fighting finally will we win.
They ran towards the temple stopping halfway to catch their breath, understanding that if Hawkmoth was there that he would feel the presence of the portal but still silently cursing Kaalki for not bringing them closer. A scream was taken out of their lungs as large boom thundered across the forest accompanied by a large dust storm and the deepest colour of orange licking the tips of the sky. Someone had blown up the temple. Who were they kidding hawkmoth had blown up the temple. All that ancient memorabilia, the history, the connection to the miraculous, even the old farts that occasionally dust the entrance. All gone. All obliterated by the hands of one man, and for what?
‘Milady theirs something I need-‘
‘There he is’ Ladybug points at a shadow emerging from the debris ‘let’s go Chat’ she extends her hand to him, he pauses for a second then grasps her hand tight.
‘I would go anywhere with you my lady’ Kaalki quickly teleports the duo directly behind their villain of four consistent years. He turns noticing the presence, but Ladybug quickly wrapped her yo-yo around him. She pulled on the strong fiber forcing him onto the ground.
‘Gabriel Agreste’ Ladybug yelled in the most fearsome Guardian like tone Chat Noir has ever heard. To both heroes surprise Hawkmoth lifted his head off the ground looking them both in the eye
‘Ah beetlebug and kittycat, I would say I’m surprised but honestly, it took you long enough’ he spat, quite confident for a trapped man. ‘I suppose that’s what I get for fighting a bunch of children’ he huffed.
‘Well these children kept you busy for four years now didn’t we!’ Chat Noir yelled. ‘fuck you’ he said less confidently his voice breaking, both unable to move an inch towards their captive, like a moment in time that froze completely
‘I had certain obstacles in my way preventing me from defeating you, if I had a powerful miraculous this little game of cat and mouse would be over a lot quicker’
‘So, you got angry when you didn’t find any here and blew up a sacred miraculous temple?!’ she yelled her arms shaking a little from the adrenaline, unable to explain this monsters thought process
‘No, no, no little girl, I’m afraid you aren’t quite right’
‘Don’t belittle us, you’re the one trapped’ Chat Noir said growling, like a hungry beast in front of its prey.
Hawkmoth began to laugh manically ‘That’s where your wrong foolish boy, I’m right where I want to be. Don’t you know what happens if you back a wild animal into a corner?’ Chat shakes in fury as this grown man, his father laughs at him. All of those years of looking up to him, trying to get him to be proud of him, acting as the best child one could have, … all those years fighting for his life, dying again and again for the sake of his lady for the sake of taking him down. All for what. Chat controlled by rage silently walked towards the man, looked at him in the eyes, those deep dark eyes holding horrors he never wants to see. This man has tortured him for years mentally, physically and emotionally in all meanings of the word, he wanted him to pay. It was time for Adrien Agreste to finally get his revenge. With all the force he could muster he kicked his father in the ribs, feeling or maybe imagining the satisfying crack of ribs underneath his boot. One part of him thought he should be sad, but all he felt was empty. Hawkmoth coughed and wined in pain looking up at Chat smiling.
‘Is that all you got? Pussy’ his laugh this time was cut off by chats fist finding its place on garbles cheek.
‘Chat that’s enough’ Ladybug said a solemn look on her face. He looked at her and stood back.
‘Oh, I see, the little stray has an owner.’ he laughs ‘Come on ladybug give it a go! Hit me! Though I doubt you could hurt me with that tiny whore body of yours‘ he laughs one again and ladybug turns away, she knows that Hawkmoth wants to rile them up, no matter what he throws at her she won’t give in to what he wants, she will not give control to him. Chat Noir however couldn’t say the same, he wanted to follow the rules of his lady but Hawkmoth was laying in front of him completely defenseless asking for a beating ‘Oh oh I’ve got it the bitch owns the bitch’ that was the last straw for chat Noir he tackled his father the one that helped bring him into existence and started beating him unable and unwilling to hold back.
Ladybug was frozen in time afraid of her partner, afraid of how violent he had become, though she didn’t blame him. The sheer force of his attacks and the emotion behind them, such raw hatred, she’d never seen her best friend like this before. That small moment in time was all it took. Both heroes distracted one hitting the terrorist which forced the entirety of Paris under extreme pain, and the other afraid of her most trusted friend, her partner of four years. Kaalki’s glasses were slid off ladybugs head and placed into the hand of Myura. The ladybug yelped in terror as she realised a plant like looking Amok had stolen the miraculous from atop her head with its long wipe like vines. Chat also looked up from his pray in time for him to be thrown off Hawkmoths body like a sack of potatoes. Before chat could get up off the ground, he was hold tight by the forest monster as he found his lady was as well. Hawkmoth was slowly picked up off the ground by the vines and placed on his feet. His bloody face dripping with crimson and slight black bruises starting to form where Chat punched him repeatedly. How could they forget about Myura, how could they forget? They should have just transported Hawkmoth to Paris then and there, they should have tied him up, they should have checked their surroundings, they’re ladybug and Chat Noir for miraculous sake they heroes. Heroes don’t make stupid mistakes like this, freezing up when things are finally going their way. No. real heroes would have done better. They’re not heroes they failed Paris they failed the guardians before them they failed themselves. The only thing that they are is children. Scared children trying to save the day in feeling like adults dressing up in their parents clothing. How could this have happened?
‘You won’t get away with this Hawkmoth” ladybug yelled ‘Our miraculous don’t belong in the hands of evil. Good will always find a way, and it will punish you for you evil doings, the terror you have spread across Paris and now the world, if not us then the next.’ She spoke proudly as if she had won the battle, her words spoken like a true hero like a true guardian. Hawkmoth was steadied by Myura, as she gave him Kaalki’s miraculous, looking at them like she had said something strange
‘If you kill us now you will regret it, the weight of two innocent, in your word’s children, weighing on your soul for eternity. Don’t you have a kid? Adrien?’ This got Hawkmoths attention ‘He’s about the same age as us, what will you see when you look at him. Will it all be worth it? all this death and tragedy for a wish? A wish that will blow up in your face?’ Chat finished wanting to back up what Ladybug said in his own way. Hawkmoth laughed once again as if Chat had said something funny, for a moment Adrien wondered what type of face Hawkmoth would make when her realises he had killed his own child, would he laugh, just as he is now? Would he be happy that the burden of his perfect son would be gone?
Ha sorry to end it like that
I’m sorry but we wont see the romantic side for a couple of chapters but it’s coming soon I promise!
Tell me if you hate it ~
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commander-hanji-zoe ¡ 5 years ago
Note
Do you have any advice for a new blog?
🌸 Oh this is such an interesting ask, I’ve been thinking about it for a few days now, sorry it’s taken a while to get back to you but I was thinking how best to answer it! While this blog has only been around for 3 years and I’ve only really started posting in it recently, I have had my main tumblr blog for 10 years and several side blogs with quite a few followers so I’m hoping I can provide some insight! I do apologise as this turned into a bit of a ramble that I feel is about tumblr but beings to overlap into life advice lol - I blame my age. 🌸
1.) I would say firstly, enjoy it. I feel sometimes there’s a lot of pressure to get loads of followers, create new content etc. and you can forget why you’re here. I got tumblr to reblog photos of things that made me happy from bands to tattoos, movie stuff, art etc and occasionally I would forget that and end up getting bogged down in comparing stats and myself to others. So yeah, enjoy it and remember why you joined ^_^
2.) If you love work that others create (writing/art/gif sets etc.) show your appreciation not just with likes but with comments and reblogging where you can/feel comfortable doing so. Likes are great and always appreciated but comments help to inspire and reblogging means more people will see their work. It encourages content creators to continue creating, it’s also a really good way of gaining followers and make friends. If you support others they will likely support you in return. 
3.) Share the art/fan art/cosplay photos you love as per above - but don’t repost work. This was something I wasn’t really aware of when I first joined tumblr, a lot of people would just save photos from google or deviant art (it was a very different place back then) and post them on tumblr to show appreciation. But often there would be no artist detail or link to the artist, instead if you find something you like reblog it from the creator. If it isn’t on tumblr and you’d really like to post it here, contact the creator and ask their permission to post - then include a link in the post and explain you have the artist’s permission. 
4.) Talk to people :) - Okay like Alice in Wonderland here’s some advice I could really use sometimes! Through tumblr I have met some of the most amazing friends. When I first started out I started chatting to a girl who went to the same Uni as me, we met up to go for coffee, browse record shops and saw The Vaccines together. I’ve also met numerous people who encouraged me to go to Hobbit Con in Germany - I had the most amazing time, remained friends, one of them came to my wedding. I guess the message here is that internet friends are great and you never know what a friendship can blossom into. If there’s someone whose work you admire or blog you love, don’t be afraid to reach out and send a message, even if you feel a bit silly (I often do!). 
5.) Tags - My take on tags is pretty simple, tag correctly. I often tag things quite heavily but I make sure that I only tag characters that feature in a post or fandoms that feature in that post etc. You often come across posts where every character in the show has been tagged, I get why people do it, it means the post will come up in more results but it is rather infuriating when you’re looking for something specific. It also looks messy and can make things hard to find on your own blog. So yeah tag the show/film/book etc, tag the relevant characters, add whatever tags you want regarding your feelings/emotions about the post or thoughts on it. But ideally keep it relevant. On that note, tag ships (people often blacklist ships they dislike or that they find problematic) so doing this helps everyone. Anything that’s only really suitable for people 18+ tag however you see fit (due to Tumblr’s changes last year we had to revert to tagging things on the citrus scale again so I tag anything like that as lemon as well as nsft) Finally Trigger/content warnings - I do use them, some people put warnings on everything, some people don’t do at all. Again like with shipping it is helpful for people who have  
6.) Remember to take breaks - tumblr can be a little addictive and easy to pass time (like social media) so remember to take breaks, when you get back they’ll be loads of new stuff on your dashboard to look at ^_^
7.) Follow loads of blogs! I probably should have put this higher up. But have a think about the kind of content you want to see and spend some time searching for blogs that fit that, I also find it’s nice to follow some more aesthetic blogs or blogs that are calming/relaxing, seeing things like that on my dash is always a reminder to have a breather!
8.) Enjoy playing around with themes - decide what you want your blog to be about (and remember there’s nothing wrong with having a main blog that’s a little bit of everything you love as well as personal stuff!) and then have fun with the settings. There’s a lot of free tumblr themes, some of which are pretty neat and user friendly in terms of customisation. Don’t be afraid to ask questions if you’re stuck. 
9.) Side blogs are also really great. I begun to create side blogs because I didn’t want to spam my main blog with Game of Thrones, The Hobbit, Red Dead Redemption 2 or Attack on Titan, so I created side blogs. I still post about all these things on main but not as frequently. A side blog can also be good if you want to create a blog you can share with employers - I have a side blog for my photography and one for my writing. Sideblogs are also a good way of keeping certain material away from the blog where people in real life are most likely to find you. Generally I won’t post 18+ material on my main blog, so smutty fan fiction etc. goes on the side blogs. As a side note, when you have a side blog you cannot like posts or ask questions as that side blog - it will be from your main blog. 
10.) Try not to get disheartened if you create original content and it doesn’t get a lot of attention at first. When you create a blog it can take time to gain followers/traction. But remember as per point 1, that Tumblr should be fun and creating content should first and fore mostly be for you and your enjoyement. But if you continue to create, tag appropriately but also show appreciation for fellow creators there’s no reason why in time you won’t flourish. And as per point 3, if you reblog others work there’s a chance they in return will reblog your art. 
11.) There’s extension kits you can get for tumblr, I know some people use them and find them helpful. I’m not sure they’re as poplar/needed now as they used to be. I used to use one but don’t feel the need now, however might be worth a google or asking someone more knowledgeable to see if it’ll work for you.
12.) You can blacklist tags through settings, if there’s any ships, characters, things you’d rather not see on your dash or that you find upsetting or triggering I’d recommend blacklisting them. If people tag correctly you shouldn’t much/if any of it. 
13.) Under blog settings you can also choose whether you want your blog to be searchable via the email address you registered with and on google. I switched this off pretty much as soon as it became a feature! My blogs, even my main blog are a piece of me which is only shared with a select few people in real life. I really do not need my colleagues, employers, certain family/friends finding this! 
14.) Use Queues! I adore a queue.... Once I discovered they were a thing I try to have around 100 posts in my queue on main at any time. You can amend how many times you post a day (mine is around 8-12 times, I change it when i go away). It just means your blog remains active even if you can’t really log on for a week or two or if you’re on holiday. Occasionally I’ll add original posts into my queue with writing, it can be nice to come back and see the feedback. A lot of people put ‘queue’ in the tag, but you’ll realise most people have a quirky tag. For example on main mine is - one does not simply queue their way through tumblr. And on my red dead blog it’s - I had a god damn queue! Sadly on here I haven’t got one yet! 
15.) Finally I would say engage in discourse as little as possible. It can be tempting and while drama can be fun for a while, even just to watch from the outside it can quickly escalate into something nasty and toxic. At first you might want to join in but tumblr can be, well it can be a lot at times and very noisy with everyone screaming their opinions and trying to be louder than the person before. I would say no fandom is inherently toxic, but it happens. A fandom I was heavily involved in last year had so much discourse and there was so much drama that even though I wasn’t involved in it my anxiety was through the roof, I had a panic attack over it and felt paranoid. After speaking to other older members in the fandom I felt much better (they too were annoyed with what was happening) and we realised that essentially a lot of it boiled down to a real lack of critical thinking. I’m not saying don’t get involved at all, sometimes I have seen things where I’ve felt things need to be said/action taken especially when it comes to intolerance and hatred. But I would say when you do engage - pick your battles. (I hope this last one makes sense). I started writing a lot more and going into the politics of it and ranting about bigots and then thought that’s probably enough! 😁
I hope this post helps! Like I said I’ve never been asked something like this so it took a bit of thinking but these are some of the key thoughts I had. 
edit - I meant to add that obviously the above is just my opinion and based on my experiences on tumblr/thoughts about things.
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prorevenge ¡ 6 years ago
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Steal our money and abuse your children? Good Luck with life.
I would just like to put this out there that while I still am a minor, this culminated only last year. Also, I am based outside the US, Canada and Europe, so perhaps some laws may differ. I also suck at languages. Sorry if it gets too long. NSFW tag is needed for details further on. This is a new account, so there will be people who call this fake, and I apologise if this comes off as so.
During the 2008 financial crisis, my father had (ironically) received a promotion based on a project that had rolled out worldwide a few months ago. While his salary only received an increment upgrade, he received a healthy stock bonus (I think that is what they called). As a form of celebration, he decided to buy the apartment we were (and still are living) in and give it a fresh coat of paint (i.e. renovate the house completely). He bought it at well below the market price and the previous owner was more than happy to get the home of his hands so that he could pay off the loan on it. All done and said, my father looked around for a renovator who would work at a reasonable price.
He eventually found one who was ready to do the work at a fraction of the cost the others were doing it at, and after settling on designs and material choices, we moved out of the house and into a service apartment while they began to do the work over 6 months. Now, my father is a very naive person. He believes in the good every being, and will give everything if it means it will help you. The renovator, who we shall name as James, seemed a pitiful character at first. He claimed to be severely overworked by the owners, and had been looking for a way to set up his own business. He non directly was insinuating that my father lend him some money, but, as it was the midst of the financial crisis, my father assured he will try his best to help James out.
Over the 6 months, my younger sister and I got very close to James' two children; twin sisters (Violet and Bella) who were of my age. We would meet often at the local playground, while my father and James would discuss how to help James out with his idea for a business. My father would always recommend a lender, but James would always refuse, stating some bullshit excuse about how he does not want to be tied up. Eventually, my father gave in, and scrubbed together $10,000 to help James bankroll his own renovation business (which in hindsight makes no sense because how do you set up a renovation business with only $10,000). James was very grateful for this and promised to return the money back, and my Father had a contract created with the help of a lawyer, and both James and him signed it.
After the 6 months was over, we moved in. The house was in a great condition, and us kids loved it. But strangely, right after we picked up the keys from James, we never heard a word from in. Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and finally months into years, and yet we could never trace James or his kids (he had no wife), and my father did not get his money back, which was a severe strain on us for a year and a bit more. We lodged a police report, but found that this was only one amongst many cases that were against James, and the name and details we had received from him were fake. They were ghosts.
This really depressed my father, because it opened his eyes to the type of people that were around him, and the fact that even if he wanted to look for the good in people and help them, he would always be taken advantage of, regardless of whether it was in the office or in social life.
Fast forward a few years to around March of 2017, and I had just entered the final two years of my schooling education. At the time, I was 15, while my classmates were between 16-17 (I skipped a grade when I was younger, and thus, will still, legally, be a minor when I graduate this year). During the first day of orientation, I picked out two familiar faces in the crowd, that at first I could not put my finger on who they were, and this was strange because I had been in this school for many years and could easily recognise anybody. It took me a few days, and looking at them carefully during classes, to realise that the two new girls who had joined were Violet and Bella themselves, albeit with completely different names and in a bad shape. I approached them at first, thinking they would recognise me, but they never did (and had), and were kind of apprehensive the first few weeks. They did not make many friends at school.
But over time, I managed to get through their armour, and, while they were still not entirely comfortable with me, it was miles better than how the rest of the school treated them. And this was when I actually got a good look at how they had turned out. There were many scars on their hands, any time parents or family were mentioned in the conversation, they basically turned off and went ghost white, and if a boy came even within 2 metres of them, they would turn as white as a sheet or become very agitated. The school counsellor had also notice this, and asked their parents (James essentially) about this, but he played dumb when asked questions and claimed he did not know why these were occurring (just a note, I found this out later but added it here because it helps the flow of the events). I realised something was horribly wrong nearly the instant I saw them but this confirmed it.
Over the same time, my friends and I tried to include them in as many activities as possible, and we took as many pictures with them (and every time somebody took out a camera they would shudder) as possible under the guise of memories, but I mostly kept them as evidence because I had a feeling this was not a good story. It is also important to note I had not told my father that James' children were in my school as it would only trigger bad memories for him and I did not want him to go through the same phase again.
After collecting these pictures, my friends and I made a beeline for the counsellor. The pictures showed in greater details the type of scars that the two sisters had on their hands and feet, which aren't visible in school uniform as our uniform consists of long pants and a full sleeve shirt. I am pretty sure the counsellor and us had a good idea where these scars had come from, but the pictures only was not really great evidence to James arrested, but it was enough to have our country's CPS equivalent get involved. And let me tell you, these guys do not mess around. They have their own division of military trained "police" officers and are relatively well funded, will go to any lengths to thoroughly investigate a case, and will ruin your life if they even doubt you.
After submitting the pictures, and learning a case was opened, we were not involved in much else as we were still minors. That was, until a few months after (December of 2017), when my friends and I were pulled out of class by the principal, and were taken to the local police station were a representative of CPS was waiting for us. They were very polite, and wanted to know more information about the case. Apart from what were in the pictures, and what we gave, my friends could not provide much else. Neither could I, but I saw the representatives eyes light up for a second when I mentioned about who the father was and how he had cheated our family. But apart from that, we did not hear much after that, other than they might need us as witnesses (I am sorry if this comes off as wrong but this is what I recall) if the case proceeds onto court.
Some weeks later (January of 2018), my father received a call from the police to come down for the case on James (I don't think it was ever closed due to the sheer magnitude of number of cases against James). Apparently they had let him know that there was a new lead on where James might be and he might be needed later on. They also let him know that CPS was on the case too, so he should expect a call soon on them for their case on James (I think they now believed that James was behind the scars). My father had known by know that I had gone to the counsellor with pictures of Bella and Violet being potentially abused, as the principal had called him up on the day CPS had pulled me out of class for an interview, so he had fully expected this, and was seething with anger because a man he had thought to be good had stolen his money and abused his own daughters.
After that, I do not know what happened for a long time. Bella and Violet remained in school, more drawnback than ever, and my friends and I were not contacted any more. Until one day, around June of 2018, just before we broke for summer, when they were met outside of school by a representative of CPS. I was a close friend of them by now, so I was walking with them to the bus stop, when we were met by the representative. He asked me to continue on, as he had to ask them a few questions. I moved on, fully expecting what was to happen. It didn't take long.
Around end September of 2018, CPS contacted my father and I, as well as my friends, regarding the case, They needed some things (I could not go that day as I had been hospitalised for a compound fracture), so my father went for the both of us (he could sign for me as I was still a minor and he was a legal guardian). When he came back, he was truly shocked. It turns out the problem was far more than I expected. My father had signed an NDA, as had my friends, and even though I had been involved, I could not get much out of them except that my friends and I had started something huge.
Come December 2018, and finally I found out just what we had started. The entire article was printed in the papers (James, Bella, Violet, my friends and I, and my father were not named due to a gag order to protect the identity of the victim; other than us lot, nobody else in the school or society, to my knowledge, knew who the children in question were).
Bella and Violet had not only been physically abused by James with the use of pipes and belts, but they had been raped by James multiple times, and their reaction to the camera, which I mentioned earlier, was due to the fact that James had been recording his rapings of his Bella and Violet, and had been trying to sell them to snuff sites on the dark web. In addition to this, he had cheated nearly 15 victims (including my father) out of nearly $200,000.
The book was thrown at James, mainly due his treatment of Bella and Violet, as well as due to another incident which had happened when he was being arrested, but I will not mention it because it, on its own, will give away where I am from. He was given multiple life sentences, no chance of parole, and was also given another punishment that is not used in other countries, but I will not mention it because it identifies where I am, but I am guessing the smart people here will be able to find out just what it is anyway.
I am also pretty sure the people in prison will do not take kindly to child rapists, so he is in hell. Which is good. Because that is all he deserves.
I do not know where Bella and Violet are, they were pulled out as soon as court proceedings began.
(source) story by (/u/TakeRevengeAsALiving)
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