#and the brutal cruelty of doing all that to young boys...

[limerental]

every single fic writer and artist who leans into witchers and witcher creation as a gross yucky disgusting horror concept <3 i'm kissing you on the mouth

[cheesus-doodles]

pls i need more yan south scenarios hes underrated 🙏

explored South's personality around his darling a bit more, hope this is alright anon! feel free to send in another ask if you have something more specific in mind!

Masterlist

South Fics: A Time Long Past | The Dawn that A New Day Brings

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South would definitely be one of the few yanderes who aren’t afraid to expose you to their violent side right from the start - you would have absolutely no question who you were dealing with. This boy has always been rather temperamental and prideful, growing up in a favela and being taught from a young age that violence equaled getting rewards and incentives only helped to stroke his temper and cruelty even further. The only way of life he had ever known is extreme brutality.

And he was still the same cutthroat man when you stumbled across him resting in a side alley, covered in blood. No doubt you were pretty horrified at the sight, not being very used to seeing that much blood on the external of one person, and of course you couldn't have known that it wasn't his blood that was splattered all over him. Which would lead to you starting to panic and offering to call him an ambulance, a normal reaction by any one with the tiniest ounce of sympathy (according to you), but this was all much to South's annoyance. He had already had a long day no matter how much he enjoyed beating others to an inch of their lives, he was tired and he was having a break.

A break that you so rudely interrupted. One very mean look and a loud “huh?!” was enough to have you fleeing in fear from the delinquent, but not before you left him a cold drink for any potential pain.

Yet after South had a chance the turn the situation over in his head after everything died down, the mere fact that you had dared to approach him - a very obvious fierce-looking foreigner with large tattoos (!!) down one side of his face - because you were concerned about him being covered in blood that you didn't even know was his. It was intriguing. And the more he thought about it, the more fascinated he became. Were you not scared of him? No, you definitely were, but then why approach him?

‎‎

You became a mystery that this delinquent couldn't stop thinking about, that he absolutely had to solve, and even if finding you was a right hassle because of how little South had to go on, he was determined to do it. You weren't really given an option to say no when you were dragged out of the canteen by your arm, and even the teachers were too frightened to stop South from straight up kidnapping you from your own school.

The first thing you could bring yourself to ask him wasn't where you were going or what he wanted with you; rather all you wanted to know was if he was feeling better from the previous day. And this tattooed delinquent couldn't help but burst into laughter. You were adorable - a certain innocence to the world that he hasn't experienced since he was but a babe. Sure you knew to be fearful of him, and that he was bad business to be around, yet that still didn't stop you from being concerned.

South decided on the spot that you would be his, though in what capacity he hasn't quite settled on. It would just be nice to have someone who would fawn over him, he supposes, someone who he didn't really have to worry about trying to overpower him.‎

‎‎‎

Even with all his upbringing and bloodthirsty personality, South still does remember the softness and love that he experienced briefly during his childhood from his mother, and that would be enough motivation for him to at least try and win you over without jumping straight to his tried and tested method. Rationalises this as not him going soft, but more so because you clearly were a very fragile person and wasn't built to take blows like he was. Tries his best to show you his good side, bringing you small gifts (mostly stolen from the other delinquents that he beat), taking you on walks and dates in the middle of the school day, attempting to get you to warm up to him.

Though this is not quite entirely out of a good heart, of course. This boy loves more than anything to eat home-cooked meals, and it doesn't quite matter if you can or want to cook - you will be learning how to and you will be cooking for him. Would rather you do it because you wanted to for him (because a hearty meal would come out of willingness and not force, South believes).

South doesn't bother hiding his gang affiliations, his time in juvie or really anything from you; in fact, he is quite proud of his past, doesn't see anything wrong. Drags you to fights so that you can watch him met out beatings right and left, and you were always there at meetings, sitting not far from South but usually doing your own thing, trying to ignore what is being discussed. Fortunately for his poor victims, you usually are able to stop before he kills anyone with his fists, but it's never a pretty sight.

‎‎

The upside is that if you comply and do find a friend in South, you always have someone watching your back. Never having to worry about your safety with South's shadow over you, you can be sure that this boy will always be there when you need him to be. The blond-haired boy is grateful for your food, and he'll be sure to repay that back in kindness towards you.

The downside: he has no qualms in lashing out at you the moment you step out of line. South does try his best to keep it verbal rather than physical; it's like him giving you a chance to correct yourself before he does, keeping in mind that you were a mere civilian. But that hasn't stopped him from following through if you don't and his short temper boils over. Nothing as extreme as a punch or a beatdown like what delinquents get from him, but even a twist of your arm or a slap is enough to shake you to your bones and cause severe pain.

You aren't allowed to run away from him even if you're shaking and crying, forced to stand there next to him tendering to your bruised arm or swelling cheek - he wants to see it all. The fear, the denial, the acceptance that there was no where to run to and that you belonged to him, and finally the submission that settles into your eyes. Of course he'll prefer if you didn't freeze in fear every time you noticed him in the corner of your eyes, but he rather not have to risk trying to find someone as amusing and adorable as you all over again.

You should have known better than to even approach him to begin with, after all.

[gremlinmodetweeker]

König's Self Esteem

cw self esteem issues and mentions of ptsd

So, König wasn't always very proud of himself. In fact, very much the opposite.

Growing up, König was bullied relentlessly for every single aspect of his very being. Nothing was enough for his classmates. He was considered a freakish nerd. He was called fat and later skinny. Girls would pretend to ask him out and laugh in his face when he eagerly accepted. Boys would make fun of König for how he spent more time reading than playing sports. Nothing was enough.

When König was a teen, things changed. Suddenly, König was tall and strong. His soft jaw sharpened, his pitiful round eyes hardened. The wiry teen became a muscular young adult thanks to his plentiful hikes in the woods, as referenced in this post.

So with such a change in König, surely, his relationship with his self esteem must be mixed, no?

More under the cut.

König has two layers of his self esteem. He has the self esteem that his team knows him for, and then he has the softer side that you know of.

On the battlefield, he is brave and, quite frankly, arrogant. He believes in himself like no other. Whatever he sets his mind to, he can do. Nobody can get in his way. His enemies are like ants beneath his boots.

When he saves hostages, he has mixed feelings. On one hand, the hostages are usually terrified of him. He's a 6'10 Austrian man built like a mac truck. Covered in blood and heaving with heavy breaths, children usually start crying when they see him.

But then he saves them. Then, the hostages that teared up at the sight of him throw themselves at his feet. They thank him profusely and adore him for saving them. He's had children named after him simply because he saved a few pregnant women. He keeps in touch with the families, too, to make sure they're still safe.

Teammates adore him, too. Nobody can do what he can. He barrels through a door and tramples his enemies under boot and bullet alike. He's like a bull with how he bores down his enemies. When enemies hear that König is coming, some of them defect immediately rather than face the wrath of the King.

Horangi in particular adores König. He's by and far one of the best hostage extractors they have. He's strong, brutish, but efficient. He's also incredibly reliable on the field. König has carried injured soldiers for miles before to get them back to safety. Legends of König carrying three men over six miles still fly around the base.

So, with all this success, König gets a bit of a big head. He is confident in his abilities and his success. He is incredibly proud of how hard he's worked for what he's gotten. He earned his place here. He was hand picked by KorTac. He is desired. He's important. He is powerful, honourable, brave and true. He's a killing machine, he's a guardian angel. He's the King.

But when he's off the field, when he's away and home with you, he can't be that König. He can't be king of the battlefield when he's at home. He can't order you around like a new recruit, and he can't expect you to treat him like an angel of death for saving you from certain doom. Instead, you see König as what he hates about himself; König is just a mortal man.

He never had to grow beyond being a teenager when he worked. He never had to face what lay under his mask. Now, with you, he has to see what you see, regardless of if he wants to or not.

He was so used to cruelty and brutality, but you bring forth softness and gentle touches. He is scared by the vulnerability you bring out of him. He's not used to being treated with love and kindness like what you provide.

Sometimes, when he thinks he's home alone, you might find him staring himself down in a mirror, a haunted look reflected back. He seems lost when he looks at himself. Soon, he rips himself away, but he can't wipe away his tears before you see them.

He'll sometimes grab at his stomach and pull, looking down miserably. You might ask what's wrong, but he'll shake it off and pretend it's nothing.

The worst are the nightmares he wakes from. He has so many memories he wishes to forget. He's made so many mistakes, and it's cost so many lives. How dare he live when others better than him have been lost? He doesn't know what to do with himself.

He hurts, dear reader. He can put on a face of being brave, but he will always remember the cruelty of his peers. When he goes into public, he feels like everyone can see the evil things he's done on the battlefield.

Sometimes, he'll break, and he'll admit all these things to you. Then he needs your kindness, your soft words, your warm touch. He might not ever be whole again, but when you kiss him and hold him close, he feels like a piece of pottery being glued together with gold. One day, he promises this to you whenever he can, he'll be better. You might not believe him, but you love him regardless.

No giant can walk through hell unscathed.

[hotdaemondtargaryen]

(CONTAINS SPOILERS FROM THE BOOK ‘FIRE & BLOOD’ + HOTD S2 AND S3)

GEORGE R.R. MARTIN reflects on the first two episodes of ‘house of the dragon’ s2: blood & cheese and maelor the missing.

those were terrific episodes.

“Well written, well directed, powerfully acted.”

“A great way to kick off the new season.”

“Fans and critics alike seemed to agree.”

“There was only one aspect of the episodes that drew significant criticism: the handling of Blood and Cheese, and the death of Prince Jaehaerys.”

in the book ‘fire & blood.’

“Aegon and Helaena have three children, not two.”

“The twins, Jaehaerys and Jaehaera, are six years old.”

“They have a younger brother, Maelor, who is two.”

“When Blood and Cheese break in on Helaena and the kids, they tell her they are debt collectors come to exact revenge for the death of Prince Lucerys: a son for a son.”

“As Helaena has two sons, however, they demand that she choose which one should die.”

“She resists and offers her own life instead, but the killers insist it has to be a son.”

“If she does not name one, they will kill all three of the children.”

“To save the life of the twins, Helaena names Maelor.”

“But Blood kills the older boy, Jaehaerys, instead, while Cheese tells little Maelor that his mother wanted him dead (Whether the boy is old enough to understand that is not at all certain).”

“It is a bloody, brutal scene, no doubt.”

“How not? An innocent child is being butchered in front of his mother.”

“I still believe the scene in the book is stronger.”

“The readers have the right of that.”

“The two killers are crueler in the book.”

“I thought the actors who played the killers on the show were excellent … but the characters are crueler, harder, and more frightening in FIRE & BLOOD.”

in the show ‘house of the dragon.’

“Blood is a gold cloak.”

“In the book, he is a former gold cloak, stripped of his office for beating a woman to death.”

“BOOK! BLOOD is the sort of man who might think making a woman choose which of her sons should die is amusing, especially when they double down on the wanton cruelty by murdering the boy she tries to save.”

“BOOK! CHEESE is worse too; he does not kick a dog, true, but he does not have a dog, and he’s the one who tells Maelor that his mom wants him head.”

“I would also suggest that Helaena shows more courage, more strength in the book, by offering her own own life to save her son.”

“Offering a piece of jewelry is just not the same.”

“As I saw it, the ‘Sophie’s Choice’ aspect was the strongest part of the sequence, the darkest, the most visceral.”

“I hated to lose that.”

“And judging from the comments on line, most of the fans seemed to agree.”

on RYAN CONDAL'S decision to make changes to blood and cheese.

“When Ryan Condal first told me what he meant to do, ages ago (back in 2022, might be).”

“I argued against it, for all these reasons.”

“I did not argue long, or with much heat, however.”

“The change weakened the sequence, I felt, but only a bit.”

“And Ryan had what seemed to be practical reasons for it; they did not want to deal with casting another child, especially a two-year old toddler.”

“Kids that young will inevitably slow down production, and there would be budget implications.”

“Budget was already an issue on HOUSE OF THE DRAGON, it made sense to save money wherever we could.”

“Moreover, Ryan assured me that we were not losing Prince Maelor, simply postponing him.”

“Queen Helaena could still give birth to him in season three, presumably after getting with child late in season two.”

“That made sense to me, so I withdrew my objections and acquiesced to the change.”

‘if you have never read FIRE & BLOOD, maybe it does not matter, because all i am going to ‘spoil’ here are things that happen in the book that may NEVER happen on the series. starting with maelor himself.’

“Sometime between the initial decision to remove Maelor, a big change was made.”

“The prince’s birth was no longer just going to be pushed back to season 3.”

“He was never going to be born at all.”

“The younger son of Aegon and Helaena would never appear.”

the butterfly effect.

“Maelor is a two year old toddler in FIRE & BLOOD, but like our butterfly he has an impact on the story all out of proportion to his size.”

“The readers among you may recall that when it appears that Rhaenyra and her blacks are about to capture King’s Landing, Queen Alicent becomes concerned for the safety of Helaena’s remaining children, and takes steps to save them by smuggling them out of the city.”

“The task is given is two knights of the Kingsguard.”

“Ser Willis Fell is commanded to deliver Princess Jaehaera to the Baratheons at Storm’s End, while Maelor is given over to Ser Rickard Thorne to be escorted across the Mander to the protection of the Hightower army on its way to King’s Landing.”

“Willis Fell delivers Jaehaera safely to the Baratheons at Storm’s End, but Ser Rickard fares less well.”

“He and Maelor get as far as Bitterbridge, where he is revealed as a Kingsuard in a tavern called the Hogs Head.”

“Once discovered, Ser Rickard fights bravely to protect his young charge and bring him to safety, but he does not even make it across the bridge before some crossbows bring him down, Prince Maelor is torn from his arms.. and then, sadly, ripped to pieces by the mob fighting over the boy and the huge reward that Rhaenyra has offered for his capture and return.”

“Will any of that appear on the show?”

“Maybe… but I don’t see how.”

“The butterflies would seem to prohibit it.”

“You could perhaps make Ser Rickard’s ward be Jaehaera instead of Maelor, but Jaehaera can’t be killed, she has a huge role to play as Aegon’s next heir.”

“Could maybe make Maelor a newborn instead of a two year old, but that would scramble up the timeline, which is a bit of a mess already.”

“I have no idea what Ryan has planned — if indeed he has planned anything — but given Maelor’s absence from episode 2, the simplest way to proceed would be just to drop him entirely, lose the bit where Alicent tries to send the kids to safety, drop Rickard Thorne or send him with Willis Fell so Jaehaera has two guards.”

“From what I know, that seems to be what Ryan is doing here.”

“It’s simplest, yes, and may make sense in terms of budgets and shooting schedules.”

“But simpler is not better.”

“The Bitterbridge scene has tension, suspense, action, bloodshed, a bit of heroism and a lot of tragedy.”

“Rickard Thorne is a tertiary character at best, most viewers (as opposed to readers) will never know he is gone, since they never knew him at all… but I rather liked giving him his brief moment of heroism, a taste of the courage and loyalty of the Kingsguard, regardless of whether they are black or green.”

“The butterflies are not done with us yet, however.”

“In the book, when word of Prince Maelor’s death and the grisly manner of his passing (pp. 505) reaches the Red Keep, that proves to be the thing that drives Queen Helaena to suicide.”

“She could barely stand to look at Maelor, knowing that she chose him to die in the ‘Sophie’s Choice’ scene… and now he is dead in truth, her words having come true.”

“The grief and guilt are too much for her to bear.”

SPOILERS! hotd season 3 & 4.

“In Ryan’s outline for season 3, Helaena still kills herself… for no particular reason.”

“There is no fresh horror, no triggering event to overwhelm the fragile young queen.”

“And the final butterfly follows soon thereafter.”

“And there are larger and more toxic butterflies to come, if HOUSE OF THE DRAGON goes ahead with some of the changes being contemplated for seasons 3 and 4…”

BOOK! death of helaena and rhaenyra.

“Queen Helaena, a sweet and gentle soul, is much beloved by the smallfolk of King’s Landing.”

“Rhaenyra was not, so when rumors began to arise that Helaena did not kill herself, but rather was murdered at Rhaenyra’s command, the commons are quick to believe them.”

“That night King’s Landing rose in bloody riot,” I wrote on p. 506 of FIRE & BLOOD.

“It is the beginning of the end for Rhaenyra’s rule over the city, ultimately leading to the Storming of the Dragonpit and the rise of the Shepherd’s mob that drives Rhaenyra to flee the city and return to Dragonstone… and her death.”

the butterfly effect of maelor's death.

“Maelor by himself means little.”

“He is a small child, does not have a line of dialogue, does nothing of consequence but die… but where and when and how, that does matter.”

“Losing Maelor weakened the end of the Blood and Cheese sequence, but it also cost us the Bitterbridge scene with all its horror and heroism, it undercut the motivation for Helaena’s suicide, and that in turn sent thousands into the streets and alleys, screaming for justice for their ‘murdered’ queen.”

“None of that is essential, I suppose… but all of it does serve a purpose, it all helps to tie the story lines together, so one thing follows another in a logical and convincing manner.”

[duckysprouts]

current bat games au lore

ok so here is part of what we have so far:

jason is no longer from district 2, he was originally a scrappy orphan from 12; he changed his name to "RED" after lazrus therapy and becoming a gladiator

Nightwing has a notorious reputation in the capitol as vain and bitchy. he constantly gets procedures done to look as young and beautiful as possible and will actively sabotage the new tributes' relationships with the capitol citizens. in reality, he is trying to protect the younger victors from being sexually exploited by putting himself on the front lines as the sex symbol

tim is the newest victor of the games. his mentor was barbara and they are both secretly working for the anti-capitol resistence.

damian is the political baby of a strategic union between talia and bruce to unite their clans without drawing suspicion from the government on why they're working closely. his parents are both big players in the capitol.

the al ghuls are the tinfoil hat conspiracy theorists of the capitol who believe the revolution is nigh. but instead of underground bunkers they prepare for the apocalypse by training their children in several warrior arts

bruce's alter ego is batman, political terrorist who is working behind the scenes to take down capitol corruption (good luck buddy)

the capitol has a capped maximum on how much wealthy citizens can donate as sponsorship because otherwise bruce wayne would sponsor all the kids in an effort for them to live

when jason was thrown into the arena, he had no living mentor and had to fend for himself. batman secretly helped him with tips and advice on how to survive

Nightwing tried to talk bruce out of sponsoring jason in the arena. it wasn't out of cruelty; he just thought it would be a better investment to sponsor a child who is more likely to live instead of a starving little boy from the weakest district bound to die. bruce sponsored jason anyway

bruce's parents were assassinated for the treasonous act of believing district citizens deserved human rights

jason's abundance of sponsorships made him a target in the arena. he got really messed up and had to go through a brutal, traumatic, and experimental rehabilitation called the lazarus project. he came out of it brain damaged and now most of his body consists of lab-grown flesh or robotic parts. (notice his fake eyes and how most of his body is covered up)

the hunger games are like the annual SuperBowl. for the rest of the year the capitol citizens enjoy entertainment like celebrity escorts (Nightwing) or gladiator games, which is basically the WWE but more deadly and no predetermined winner (RED)

gladiators all have a number that is worn by players and fans alike. most gladiators wear theirs on their armour but RED wears his as a corpse identification tag on his ear

tim purposefully makes himself seem boring and unlikable so that the capitol will allow him to go home rather than stay at the capitol like nightwing and RED.

tim is probably on like 10 different government watchlists

damian keeps nightwing around as a friend/babysitter, since he gave every other one he had a mental breakdown

damian keeps jason around as a personal weaponsmith/arms instructor (hired by talia)

talia and bruce have split custody of damian

nightwing and RED are top-celebs in their fields

bruce's name is brucellosis I'm sorry that's just the way it is

bruce stopped sponsoring for a while after jason's injury cause he blamed himself

hunger games sponsors are like gambling or horse race betting. if your sponsored victor lives you get more money back. but it is so costly with such high stakes that most people don't do it

nightwing volunteered for some random kid who he had no connection with because he has no self-preservation and is kinda self sacrificing like that

nightwing's mentor was starfire. he had a massive crush on her and she'd pat his head

RED has a tense relationship with bruce and Nightwing but also trusts them more than anyone else

there are more but they require more context and characters so hang tight. suggestions welcome! just dm me in my inbox

[awinchestershell]

I’m not sure how it still manages to surprise me after all this time, the depths of the selfishness and cruelty of human greed. 

I remember the day One Direction was formed. I remember how nervous they all were, how young and excited and wide-eyed about the possibilities being tossed into their laps. They truly had no idea what was in front of them. 

They were so small, and they had such big dreams that barely fit inside them, and it was so beautiful watching them achieve them. 

I remember watching them become more and more jaded over time, that childish wonder being torn away as the reality around them became more apparent. I remember hundreds upon thousands of tweets and tumblr posts from worried fans about how exhausted they seemed, something in their eyes just not feeling right anymore. 

The day Zayn left the band the world seemed to stop. I couldn’t tell you how many young girls on my social media pages I saw wailing in what at the time seemed like the worst pain this band could ever put us through.

God, how wrong we were. 

It seemed so obvious, even at the time, that there was something more going on. It wasn’t like they were trying to hide it. 

Then Zayn wrote his book and spoke about how much he’d struggled in the band, and for the first time one of the boys had publicly acknowledged how hard it was to be One Direction. And he was still barely scratching the surface.

The band breaks up, or ‘goes on hiatus’, and again it feels like the worst thing they could do. How much harder of a hit can we take? What more is there to lose?

And yet again, it’s so obvious that there’s more going on then they’re saying. They all seem so worn out, downright miserable at times, yet they never stop the grind. They never take a day off. They never sleep. 

Slowly, they start to talk about the reality of being a child star. Of being sixteen years old and handed the world on a silver platter, money and fame and all the things that no one ever even touches in their wildest dreams, and they’re not even out of high school yet. 

They talk of being locked up in hotel rooms for days at a time with nothing to entertain them but the mini bar. Feeling trapped, being a prisoner to their own success. They talk of schedules so busy they shouldn’t be possible, never seeing their own families, cameras in their faces at the most vulnerable moments of their lives.

They begin to write what they really feel. We finally get a peek into their real thoughts instead of what some bighead in a suit is telling them to think.

They write of real love, feeling lonely, feeling sad, feeling scared, feeling on top of the world, toxic romances that you know are toxic but you stay anyway because you don’t want to be alone, happiness so overwhelming you lose your mind, grief, exploring, running free, coming home, friendship, drugs, sex, all the best and worst parts of being alive. 

They write what they feel, and what they know. They express themselves. 

They find their own paths. We worry, of course we worry. But it’s an honor and a joy watching them find themselves in their music.

We convince ourselves that they’ll come together one day. Not even for a tour, because they’ve changed too much and so have we, but for a charity show, or someone’s birthday, or an anniversary. 

And then TMZ takes a photo.

And now we know that Zayn leaving and the band breaking up meant nothing at all.

It’s a fascinating thing, really. How you can spend years of your life not really thinking of someone anymore and then they’re gone and suddenly they’re all you can think of. 

I never left. I’ve known these boys as long as they’ve known each other. But I’ve seen so many people in the last week see this news and have years of memories come rushing back to them. A whole lifetime of love and joy and community just gone.

It’s a brutal, miserable blow to the most innocent part of you. The part that believes in the goodness of humanity, in the pure joy of creation, being a part of something bigger than yourself. 

All of the jokes, the laughter, the music, the friendship. It’s all just gone.

And the worst part is it didn’t have to happen.

A completely, hilariously avoidable tragedy. 

He’s gone because humanity hates itself. Because we are greedy and cruel. Because a management company exploited those five young boys for money and power until they couldn’t anymore, making sure to torment them along the way. Because men with cameras have to leech off of every vulnerable moment celebrities have, using and abusing their suffering for a quick buck.

Because the anonymous, mindless drones on social media think that their opinion is the only one that deserves to be heard. And that they decide who deserves to live or die. That it’s appropriate to send someone death threats and tell them to burn in hell, and then post jokes and celebratory tweets about them after they’ve killed themself. 

Because TMZ thinks that taking a picture of a man’s dead body and leaking it to the press before his mother has even gotten the call that he’s dead is good journalism. 

This is why he’s gone. 

THis is why there will be another Liam Payne after him. This is why we will never, ever be okay. Because humanity sees a senseless, unnecessary tragedy, and they point and laugh. And they ask how they can make money off of it.

Because we are broken. Fractured down to our core. And there is no fixing us. Not anymore. 

The media took a sweet, funny, bright-eyed 16 year old boy and they sucked all the life out of him. They turned him into a soulless cash cow, they took him for all he had, and when he had nothing left to give they abandoned him. 

And now that he’s gone they’re turning his death into a circus. Instead of allowing him the dignity of dying in peace, surrounded by the love and privacy he deserves, they’ve robbed him of even that.

When a mother is left resorting to begging the internet to not post filth of her child’s dead father so he won’t have to grow up and see it one day, and a crowd of teenage girls are forced to raise their hands up to block cameras from filming a man as he collects the belongings of his dead son, we’re left wondering how we got here. 

Ask yourself just how much of your soul you have left, and if the answer is any at all, how much are you willing to sacrifice to continue playing a part in this nightmare? 

[golongbyjoannanewsom]

twin peaks, salò, and the human capacity for evil

i wanted to elaborate on how i think twin peaks and salò have similar things to say about the nature of evil and how it exists in society.

warning for discussion of csa, rape, incest, torture, murder

part one: fathers and daughters 

both twin peaks and salò portray evil as something that often comes from those one is closest to, the people who have power over others who are meant to be “protecting” them but in reality are being enabled to do the opposite. there’s a specific focus on the father-daughter relationship and the idea of patriarchal incest, which more broadly represents the idea of men in high places (fathers) abusing the more vulnerable members of society (women, young people) because it’s so easy for them to get away with without others noticing.

twin peaks centers around the murder of laura by her father leland, who had been sexually abusing her for years previously. it also has audrey and ben and their interaction at one eyed jack’s, where he tries to have sex with her not knowing he's his daughter. laura’s working at one eyed jack’s as a result of the abuse she’s suffered at leland’s hands serves as a sort of exchange in which she is given from one man to another. this calls to mind the beginning of salò, in which the fascist libertines marry each other’s daughters, participating in a similar act of exchange, though all four men go on to torture, abuse, and kill all four women. blood makes no difference here the way it did with ben horne, who was horrified to find out it had been audrey at one eyed jack’s. 

this abuse specifically happens to girls from “good” families, with ben being a wealthy businessman with a great deal of power in the town and leland being an upper middle class attorney. similarly, the daughters in salò all have fathers that hold positions of power, who remain unnamed throughout the film and are defined entirely by their titles. this suggests that no one is immune to such evil, that even those with seemingly comfortable lives, those lucky enough born into high places in society, can become victims. 

part two: masking techniques 

there’s often a tendency to portray evil as scary and menacing and serious, and both twin peaks and salò subvert this in similar ways, with some of the worst acts committed being juxtaposed with an unnatural lightness, a joke or a song. 

leland palmer in particular is often associated with music, singing and playing records and dancing with laura’s picture in a scene so absurd it begins to become funny rather than sad. windom earle, the villain in the second half of season 2, loves to play games with his victims, and clearly sees cruelty as a source of entertainment. similarly, the libertines in salò enjoy making jokes. after the first occurrence of rape at dinner, they begin to sing. the torture is clearly being done for their amusement, and there’s a ridiculousness to it that would make it funny if it wasn’t so serious. 

after leland kills maddy, he puts her body in the trunk of his car and begins to cheerfully drive around town humming “surrey with the fringe on top” from oklahoma! (i have a LOT i could say about this particular song choice, but i’ll leave it for another post). perhaps it’s the spirit of bob possessing him, but he is entirely unbothered by the murder he’s committed. to the audience, the singing feels wrong. how can he just go on like that?

similarly, salò ends with a musical moment closely following a scene of death. two teenage boys, accomplices in what has occurred, have just seen the victims be brutally murdered outside. seemingly unbothered, they put on a record, dance together, and indulge in casual conversation. there comes a point when evil has gotten deep enough inside someone that they feel no guilt. this is just like any other day. they can put on a song and enjoy it, forget what they’ve done entirely. 

part three: the spread of evil

during one of the dinner conversations in salò, the magistrate says “there’s nothing more contagious than evil.” as the film continues, this is proven true. the storytellers are a notable example, as these women were victims initially, brought into prostitution as children, but in their adulthood they have become enablers and perpetrators of violence, perhaps influenced by the evil that took place around them. similarly, one of the victims is later chosen to join the guards, and we see him dance in the final scene, showing no sympathy for those whose plight he once shared, having fully accepted the evil around him. 

in twin peaks, we see this contagious nature of evil portrayed through bob. leland speaks of being tormented by bob as a child, suggesting that he may have been a victim himself before he began to rape and abuse his daughter. bob wants to take control of laura as well, and she spends the majority of fire walk with me trying to avoid this fate. season two ends with bob finding a new host in dale cooper, a man who, until that point, had been one of the most unquestionably good characters in the show. his transformation suggests that the capacity for evil exists within all people, and no one is truly immune to its spread.  

part four: death as resistance 

if all people can become evil when exposed to it enough, what way is there to resist it other than death? in both works, death is the only form of true resistance the victims have against the abuse they face.

laura's death at the end of fire walk with me is a tragedy, but it is also a choice. her refusal to submit to bob, to allow herself to become the evil that has tormented her for her entire life, is the reason behind her death. if she can't resist him, she'll die, and exit to world in which he holds power, freeing herself. in the end, laura sees the angel, showing that she has finally escaped the world of evil and that by resisting in the only way she could, she has proven herself good.

salò's primary act of resistance also ends in death. a sequence at the beginning of the third act shows the victims turning on each other, revealing the forbidden things others have been doing in hopes of saving themselves. this ends with the reveal that ezio, one of the guards, has been having an affair with the maid. rather than attempt to justify his actions or expose someone else, he raises his fist in a socialist salute before being killed. this is the only moment in salò during which we see anything truly bother the fascists in power, and his resulting death is simple and fast rather than drawn out and torturous.

when faced with evil, if one is not willing to refuse completely, even risking death, the result is more drawn out suffering, or the potential of succumbing to it. because in both cases, evil does not come from any one person but rather from the world which condones it, ignores it, allows it to spread.

[thefiery-phoenix]

Hi. English is not my first language so I'm sorry if I make grammatical mistakes. I read almost all of the marvel and viral hit series and had a lot of fun. The things you wrote are very nice. Could you please write yandere young seong hansu x reader? If you don't want to write, feel free to ignore it.

You know what, sure and thank you so much for liking my work, I really appreciate it

Hansu seong as a romantic yandere? It would be a blessing for you and a damn nightmare for the other people around you. We all know Hansu was the poster boy and the epitome of bad boy behavior, his son Taehun doesn't even match the rebellious things he used to do when he was younger. However he genuinely loves you and cares for you, too much rather to the point that he's willing to kill people for even looking at you for a second too long for his liking

Despite his stoic tough exterior he's a soft man at heart when it comes to you. He just wants to come home to you after a long day and melt into your gentle loving touch as he wraps his arms around you shielding you from the harsh realities and cruelty of the world. He's endured a lot and he'd rather burst a blood vessel than let you go through the same pain and burden as him. All he wants to do is just shower you with his love and affection keeping you safe from all those scumbags who dare to take advantage of you. He's had a lot of experience already so he's kind of justified with wanting to protect you and keep you safe, even if he has to wrap you up in silk and keep you all for himself that is

Hansu didn't undergo all that brutal and harsh training with his teacher for nothing you know. There's a reason even his friends Kim and Jincheol are a bit scared of him secretly, he's known to be a walking time bomb when he's enraged and coming from THOSE two, that's actually saying something. Alas, it's not like you'll be able to ask them for help either, they just want to see their dear friend happy with you and will do whatever the hell it takes to ensure that you remain with Hansu. So, congratulations, you also have two more soldiers with insane kill ratios and years and years of war history after you who're platonic yanderes for you now. Escape? From Hansu? Oh, you poor sweet innocent little one, how naive you are if you think you'll be able to escape from someone like Hansu. Clearly, you have no idea the extreme lengths he'll go through to get you back safely in his arms and when he does find you, he won't be too amused about the whole situation

Like I've said before, he values your safety and prioritizes it a lot. The idea of you being somewhere without him, your man, to protect you is enough to send him into a spiral of worry for you with his over protective tendencies skyrocketing through the roof even more if that's possible. He won't yell at you or anything nor will he ever hit you, he doesn't believe in hurting the one he loves. He'll just firmly tell you with a stern expression to never do such a thing again, it's like a parent scolding a child but don't worry, he'll shower you with lots of love and affection later on. He can't afford to be mad or angry at you at all, he loves you too much and before you know it, you'll be on his lap cuddling him while he wraps his around your waist possessively ensuring you'd never leave him. Oh, but don't think you're off the hook yet, he'll baby proof the whole house and lock the windows and doors and hide the key somewhere and there'll be a few secret cameras here and there without your knowledge of course, to keep an eye on you to make sure you're safe

I want to be sympathetic to the person who's trying to take you away from Hansu but honestly, they should just know better. If Hansu's icy cold glare isn't enough to send the other person running in the opposite direction screaming with fear, he'll have to get physical. We all know what happens when Hansu gets mad and gets physical, he's not above killing the other person like I've mentioned before. The only person he cares for and lives for is you, so if someone takes away the very reason he's alive, he feels like someone's ripping his heart out. You're his everything, his heart and his soul. No way he'd ever allow someone to lay their filthy hands on you, they better be praying to all the gods above and hope the fates are kind enough to ensure they won't get murdered or brutally attacked by a livid raging Hansu and wake up the next day in a hospital room. Actually, scratch that, they should be praying he even leaves them ALIVE in the first place

Of course, Sir Cho Pyunggyeon would know about you being Hansu's darling and he's amused that the stoic Taekwando obsessed boy who showed up at his bar years ago finally found someone for himself and honestly, he's impressed and amused. Oh, which reminds me, unless you want a whole freaking mafia group after you if you ever try leaving Hansu because Sir Cho will obviously come to his aid, don't try escaping Hansu. He just wants to love you that's all. Hansu would treat you like a precious fragile doll about to break at any second, he's so gentle and caring and kind towards you, you'll almost forget he literally kidnapped you

He can't bear to see you crying or scared or upset, you're his precious darling after all and seeing you in any kind of discomfort hurts his heart. He doesn't mean to be controlling and stern all the time but this one time he caught you reading a gory and dark and gruesome murder novel and his eyes narrowed at you as he demanded to know what you were reading. His jaw clenched as his fists clenched shut tightly that his knuckles became white. You could literally see his angry veins protruding and bursting from his fists however he forced a smile and gently took the book away from you as he tried to distract you with something else. Later on when you went to get back to the book, you found a pile of ash sitting where the book previously used to be there as you looked at Hansu in suspicion who just looked proud at what he'd done with no ounce of remorse or regret on his face. "Hansu...you're not supposed to burn books like this, they're an epitome of knowledge, it's wrong... and besides, I didn't even make it past the first chapter anyway and it was listed as a best seller" you pouted and looked at Hansu reproachfully. Hansu pulled you onto his lap as he looked at you with a love sick obsessive gleam of love glinting in his eyes as he gently caressed your cheeks and softly but firmly replied "This is for your own good my love... I will not have my sweet darling get corrupted by such dark and negative thoughts and acts like this. I don't want your innocent pure mind to be tainted by such dark material like this which will only make you sad and it hurts my heart to see you sad....'' as he kissed your lips softly and passionately

You're going to be babied and spoiled by him. He won't allow you to miss out on any meals and will ensure you follow a strict bedtime and sleep on time. With him, on the bed as you're in his arms, right where you belong. One stern look from him is enough to make you swallow down your protests. Oh, you won't be allowed to cook in the kitchen either, it's off limits for you since he's worried you'll hurt yourself but don't worry, Hansu can take good care of you and whip up some delicious meals for the two of you. Starving yourself isn't an option of course, he'd literally tie you down and make you sit on his lap and feed you and yes, he has done this before and isn't above doing this again, it's a matter of your health and well being after all

He knows you weren't too happy when he literally kidnapped you and you were angry and scared and honestly, he doesn't blame you for your feelings. He'd never hurt you or be mad at you whenever you screamed at him or just threw things at him demanding to be set free, he gets how you feel. However he loves you too much to let you go, he'd rather walk through hell than ever let you be in the arms of someone else other than him, your rightful husband. He knows and he's certain you'll love him one day just as much as he loves you, he's confident in it and when you finally do admit your feelings, he'll be over the moon with happiness and pure joy. He's such a soft man only for you though...you're his world and his heart, he'd do anything to keep you safe, you're HIS after all....

[cienie-isengardu]

Star Wars Fact Files about Tor Vizsla

Fact Files in general are a pretty interesting source of knowledge about star wars lore however those are far from perfect, objective description. What is best seen with characters designed as villains, such as Tor Vizsla. For example, his entry is set out to present Vizsla as a man who “took excessive pleasure in the suffering of others” and was “prone to extreme cruelty”

And sure, Vizsla was not above solving his problems with brutal force, but adding the bold claim about him taking pleasure from hurting others to this particular picture is either the author's unfortunate choice born from ignorance or done on purpose ignoring the original source and in the result, a premeditated action to give the readers an misleading impression. Because you see, the picture above comes from the first issue of Jango Fett: Open Seasons in which Tor’s violence was very limited and original authors clearly did not go with the typical villain approach.

Lemme explain. 

When Death Watch managed to scatter True Mandalorians during battle, Tor Vizsla promised to running away Jaster Mereel that he will burn all his hiding places to the ground and execute anyone who helps him.

When Death Watch found little Jango working in the field, Vizsla got the needed information that the boy's father was helping someone wearing “soldier boots”, and that is why Death Watch came to Jango’s home. 

The next scene shows us Tor Vizsla interrogating Jango’s father by himself and this is the thing - all the beating was focused on the only one person confirmed to help Jaster Mereel. Little Jango was kept behind by one of Death Watch’s soldiers (as seen in the background),

but in the final scene, Tor did not threaten Fett Senior with killing his son(1) for not betraying Jaster’s location but that the boy will be forced to witness his death.

Tor: Answer me, or your kid will be wearing your brains.

One way or another, this was traumatic for Jango, but the point is, the original authors of the comics made a choice to not go with the typical villain route with Vizsla. If he took pleasure from others' suffering or was so prone to violence, hurting Jango was the best option to break Fett Senior, as a father would be more likely to betray his former associate(?) for his child’s sake than to spare himself the physical pain. What is even more, as the next frames showed, Jango’s mother and sister (later named Arla Fett) for some reason were allowed to stay in the house in relative safety and shoot down one of Death Watch soldiers that started the final shooting in which Jango's parents died.

The comics does not provide any information, did the women hide from Death Watch and thus attacked out of surprise when the situation looked dire or did Tor and his men know about them but ignored their presence(2), as only the Fett Senior was confirmed to help Jaster?

But again, if Death Watch knew and Tor was such a madman and psychopath as Fact Files claims, there was little Jango, an adult woman and teenage girl that could be hurt, both physically and sexually, to break down the man that refused to give away Jaster’s location. Death Watch could force Fett Senior to watch his young son or wife or daughter beaten to death, raped or tortured in any other way and yet Vizsla’s violence was limited to the man. Limited only to person confirmed to help True Mandalorians. A person Vizsla promised to execute at the beginning of the story(3).

Which gives an interesting nuance to the villain of Jango Fett’s story, something that original creators decided to include by adding this detail to the story when they could go with the typical “do as I said or I will kill your loved ones” threat. And this is something that greatly annoys me. Not just because of slander against one of my main favorite Mandalorians, but how the article was published in Fact Files- as the name suggests, a series dedicated to “facts” from lore, and yet presumably on purpose denigrates this certain character. 

This is the lesson that one should always be critical when engaging with widely understood source material and if there is a chance, to actually get familiar with the original source instead of just blindly relying on data books and other people's interpretation of characters and events.

SIDENOTES

(1) I even made a joke about that scene.

(2) If Death Watch knew about the wife and daughter hiding/staying in the house, it does not mean the women would be spared. As Tor said after Jango's parents died, they don't leave witnesses and thus Arla was presumably killed. One may though wonder, what would happen if Jango's father gave Death Watch Jaster's location? Would they left the family in peace or not?

(3) Tor also promised to burn down all Jaster Mereel's hiding places and in fact he keep that part of promise too.

[whilereadingandwalking]

Boy Swallows Universe by Trent Dalton was on my list of books to read before Australia, but I ended up saving it for after. It takes place in a rough area of Brisbane. Young Eli has a complicated life. His brother, who is mute, has alerted him that their parents are dealing drugs again, working for a local kingpin whose methods are famously cruel. He gets his wisdom and strategy from his babysitter, a ex-con famous for escaping maximum security prisons. As he grows up and tries to keep his family safe from violence and disorder, he's pulled into a series of dark ironies and tragicomic twists.

This book reminded me of Extraordinary Loud and Incredibly Close in a couple of ways. The protagonist is precocious somewhat past belief, but it makes for a heartbreaking, emotional, and visceral read. Some teens grow up in rough ways, and this book reflects that: violent, full of substance disorder issues and parents who do their best but can barely handle their own selves. Eli tries to figure out whether men can be both bad and good at the same time, tries to keep his mom safe, tries to grieve while also avenging while also healing.

I was unsure of the character of Eli's brother, the mysterious, mute person who seems to be a sort of container or vector for meaning, magic, coincidence. I think it fringes an ableist trope of the magical disabled/mentally ill person, he can't talk but he can see the future, he's wise beyond his years, etc. I also felt that sometimes the poetic, streaming language could get a little confusing or out of hand, especially for a teen read. It was difficult to get into for that reason, although it quickly picked up, and it lagged at times.

Still, it's a rich and often difficult to read book, and its emotional climaxes really hit; it all comes together in the end in a somewhat implausible but still satisfying way. The characters feel very complicated and real, and I'll think about some of the scenes for a long time.

Content warnings for animal cruelty, police brutality/incarceration, substance abuse/addiction, involuntary confinement, mental illness/trauma, suicidal ideation, racist/ableist language, violence/body horror, mentions of sexual assault.

[theatlasenigma]

based on this denholm brothers/pirates smp god au (go check it out before you read this, otherwise my writing will make no sense whatsoever lmao) by @sweetsmalldog, which has had me in an absolute chokehold for the last day or so since i discovered it. so here, have this quick writing dump because i needed to get it out of my system.

imagine the detached and vengeful sun god in the aftermath of the mortal denholm brothers’ deaths. the sun god, furious at the injustice and cruelty, stepping forth to unleash all hell on these vile mortals who so callously slaughtered their children in the hopes of becoming famous themselves. except he falters, because the pair of too-still bodies before him are so agonisingly small, so painfully young, so devoid of life. in a split second decision, he imbues them with a fragment of his own divinity. and so ruby red becomes gold, and so the the sickly sweetness of ichor mixes with the salt of iron in the heavy air.

imagine the regal and proud sun god falling to his knees before the now godly twins, pulling them into an embrace that smells of the warm sea breeze, the hot wood of a ship’s deck under the sun, the sweetness of ripe fruits in the height of summer. whispered i’m sorries, you didn’t deserve this, if i had known i would have saved you, would have stopped the people who did this to you. the stifled hiccupping sobs of two brothers who, even after death and then ascension, are still afraid of what this adult will do if they show too much of their emotions. tears and snot stain his shirt but he finds he does not care. he has a thousand shirts but only this one moment and these two children.

imagine the harsh and distant sun god teaching the brothers the ways of godhood. how to stretch their wings and soar, how to bless without burning themselves up in exchange, how to give and delight and laugh. some day he will have to teach them how to take and how to punish but for now they are two brothers amongst the stars and they play and fly and run and they have never been so free.

imagine the indifferent and brutal sun god learning how to care for these godlings he took under his not-so-metaphorical wings. he finds that gentle words and reassuring warmth do not come so easily to him, a creature of pure blinding light and raw blazing heat, and so as the brothers learn to stretch and grow he learns to listen and love. and on those nights when acho wakes up screaming, or those days where scott can barely stomach leaving the safety of his room, the sun god is there to hold them close and whisper sweet nothings to them until their tears dry up and fear-frozen bodies relax. 

imagine the divine and powerful sun god, watching over the antics of the children he saved. though if what he did really can be considered ‘saving’ is a question he will lie awake for hours racking his brain for the answer to. he and the brothers will be joined by more, a clever daemon with skin like blood and claws of pitch that feigns indifference, a cunning explorer with a silver tongue and eyes like sunsets who strains for freedom, a war-like but steadfast woman who shouts and laughs almost as loudly as the twins. when the orange-eyed adventurer makes a jibe about the star-spattered lines across their necks and the sun god sees both stiffen in discomfort, he sends a flick of fire in the unruly god’s direction to discipline him. when the soot-stained war goddess shouts loudly enough to make acho or scott flinch, the sun god is there to provide reassurance and remind the woman to heed the boys’ fear. when the pitch-robed god of monsters play-fights too roughly and ichor is spilled, the sun god bandages the injuries and gives the daemon a stern warning to take care. 

they may have their occasional clashes, but they are freed from the shackles of mortality now and spread their wings in a palace amongst the stars. and if legend tells of a pair of boys who haunt the town where they were slaughtered like sacrificial lambs, well, they might occasionally pay a visit to remind the residents of those stories and their worth. tell tales of childlike laughter carried on the breeze, a flash of red hair, a flutter of wings and too-sharp teeth, lest you be lost to the depths like the parents of those starshine children so long ago.

[windsweptinred]

Metamorphosis Part Seven

(It's finished, it's actually finished!!)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

The great stained glass windows of the palace throne room shifted in a continual blur of pattern and colour. At the base of the vast staircase below, Night watched them with concern. Their disharmony, a clear sign all was not well with their master. 

The young Endless in question stood upon the first step, facing him, Matthew perched loyally upon his shoulder. He looked, for all the world, like a slighter, pale miniature of Night, tall and dark as he was with Dusk balanced proudly on his own. Time stood at Night's side, one hand placed at the small of his back, resting gently on the cool leather. The other, carefully cradling the treasured baby blanket, Night had passed him.

Dream fiddled with his sleeves once more. An anxious tick, Night pondered fleetingly, just like Time. Those life green eyes looked to them imploringly. "Must you go?"

Night gave a slight, weary smile, "It is time we took our leave." He looked to the imposing stone throne above, sat empty and expectant. "And you must see to your realm, your highness."

Dream followed his gaze, expression somewhat troubled, before slowly smoothing to one of acceptance and determination. He turned back to the pair, chin high and declared in a stately manner, "I will make you proud." Time smiled warmly in response. "You already have Dream." The young man nodded in silent gratitude, eyes wet. 

"You will find your tools of office in Lucienne's safe keeping." Night informed him softly. "I had meant to hand them to you personally, earlier. However…" 

"It all turned into a colossal cluster fuck? " Time offered. 

Night bit the inside of his cheek, as Dusk looked at him sharply in appalled dismay at Time's words. He ran a finger over her flanks placatingly. This is 600 years of refinement before you Dusk, he thought. And imagined with a quirk of his lips, how his handmaiden would have reacted to the scoundrel he had encountered in 1389. 

Turning his attention once more to Dream, he continued, demeanour serious. "They will help you grow gradually accustomed to your power, but do not become reliant upon them."

Dream's eyes broke their shared gaze, fluttering about in a lost manner. Before he looked to Night with an expression of deep anguish. "I remember." He admitted almost inaudibly. 

Night screwed his eyes shut. Bitter grief flooding his heart. He had so ardently hoped the youth had been spared some of the worst cruelties dealt to him. That he had remembered the who's and hows of Dream of the Endless.. Not all. 

"I wish you did not… I am so very sorry" He whispered mournfully. "For you to be burdened with such monstrous memories… I would like you to have met the dreamers afresh, with benevolence and hope. Not already tainted by my own experiences." 

Dream shook his head emphatically. "It is not your fault. It is not theirs either."

Night stared at him in wonder. Oh my darling boy, how did one such as you come from such brutal beginnings? 

"If you ever need… " He started. 

"I shall call for you." Dream assured him. "I swear it!"

Night took Dream's face in hands, running his thumbs lovingly over his cheeks. Eyes of blue and green bled to matching swathes of night. Bright stars flaring within both at recognition of the other. 

"Do not grow proud." Night attempted to sound stern in warning. But his voice was hoarse, and the tender concern in his words won out. "Take heed of Lucienne's wise counsel. Trust Matthew in all things, he will never abandon you. Do not fear calling on the Corinthian's aid, for there is little he would not do for you if you asked it of him." 

Dream nodded, gentle tears slipping from his eyes, which Night swept away without comment. Leaning forward, he placed a  kiss, full of devotion upon the Dream's forehead, whispering into place his lips had marked with urgency." Remember your duty is not all you are Daniel." 

Dream's breath hitched, and he clutched at Night's coat with an unrelenting grip. Time stepped forward, running a hand affectionately through the youths white locks, stopping to cradle the back of his head. Dream looked at him, eyes gleaming. 

"Visit Hippolyta Hall." Time instructed gravely. "Let her know you are safe and whole. Continue to do so from time to time, even if all it brings you is discomfort and her misery. Do not leave her to suffer a parents greif. Pomsie me, Dream."

Dream glanced at Time, then Night, with a great, sorrowful look of understanding."I will, I promise."

They withdrew from him, Time knocking a gentle knuckle against his cheek as they did. "Stay hearty and hale for me." He whispered, pleadingly. "Do nothing reckless."  

At Dream's shoulder, Matthew puffed out his small feathered chest. "I've got this. I'll take care of the kid. Don't you worry!" 

Night smiled at the raven, caressing his head with a gentle finger. "You must take care of each other."

A heavy, awkward silence fell over them and Dream looked forlornly to the floor. He scrubbed childishly at his eyes, valiantly attempting to regain his composure, sniffing intermittently. Finally he straightened his posture and bowed low at the waist, the perfect picture of decorum save for his still hitching breath. "Farewell then, your Excellencies." 

Night dipped his head courteously in response, eyes bright. Time gave a curt nod, eyes downcast. He hooked an arm around Night who sagged into his side, looking briefly to the raven on the young man's shoulder. "I'll leave the window open for you Matthew, don't be a stranger." Then with a despondent sigh, he turned them and they began their way slowly towards the ornate entrance way. 

"Wait!"

They had barely reached the doors of the grand chamber, before Dream raced after them. He threw himself at Night, causing  Dusk and Matthew to take to the air in a flurry of feathers. Hooking his arms tightly about Night's neck and tucking his head determinedly under his chin, Dream snuggled into Night's collar bone as if someone would try and wrench him away. "Goodbye Mother," Dream whispered intimately into Night's skin. 

Night wove his arms about him, hugging back with equal fervour. Tears welled in his eyes as he clutched Dream's curls, "My sweet boy… My sweet child." They stayed there for a while, swaying slightly against each other. Then Night pulled back, unlatching Dream's arms just enough to shrug off his coat and drape it over the light, white tunic that covered Dream's shoulders. It swamped his smaller form, bottom trailing across the floor. But as the  lining of infinite night skies swaddled Dream's body, Night felt the youth's essence wrapped securely within his own and let out an overjoyed breath. "Wear it when you venture forth." He insisted. "So that I may know you are safe." Placing another impassioned kiss to the young man's head. 

Already, the leather was fading from midnight black, to storm cloud grey to a brilliant starshine white. The trailing ends, curving and rippling into soft, rolling vapours of cloud and mist. Dream pushed his arms through the sleeves, and Night laughed wetly as the now bleached cuffs hung ridiculously low over his fingers. 

Time gave an amused huff, "You'll grow into it."

Dream looked questioningly to Time then, who opened his arms wide, a vibrant grin across his face as Dream flung himself into his embrace. A matching beam spread across his lips. "Father." 

Time clutched him to his chest with all his might. As he did so, sand drew from the stone floor beneath them, swirling lazily about them. "We share the sands of Time and creation. Remember, I will be there, in every grain! " He swore resolutely. "Trust it to protect you, to defend you, as I would."

Dream nodded into his shoulder as Time rocked him one last time, then released him. The sand slunk back to the floor, remelding back into the stone. 

Dream looked to both of them beseechingly as Matthew returned to rest upon his shoulder once more. "Visit as much as you are able!" 

"You couldn't keep us away." Time insisted, as Dusk settled carefully upon Night's forearm, mindful of his now bare flesh. 

Dream pulled them to him again, one last time. And stood, nestled happily between them. Behind them, the stained glass windows rippled, before settling peacefully into place. To the left, Night. Resplendent in a gradient gown of dusk to dawn, profile framed in shining moonbeams. From a raised hand, stardust swirled artfully. 

To the right, Time clothed in vibratant robes of nature's rich bounty. Behind him, a sun flared like a golden halo. From an hourglass held proudly aloft, sand flowed in bold sweeps. 

Finally in the centre, stood Dream of the Endless, white and gleaming, head crowned with an intricate circlet of stars. About him, star dust and sand coiled and entwined in a protective embrace. 

……………….. 

Time shouldered the door of the New Inn open with a relieved grunt, ushering Night and Dusk, still perched upon his forearm, through into the dim light of the empty bar.

Behind the counter, Henry, seasoned barkeep and unofficial leader of his motley crew of staff, gave a surprised grunt. His hands still leafing through the day's takings, a flip file, full of neatly recorded figures, open at his side. 

"Rob! I was just closing up. We wondered where you'd dissappeared off to? Not like you to take off without leaving word." He sent Night a friendly smile, giving an interested, yet unsurprised glance at Dusk. "And Morpheus, always good to see you lad."

Night returned a warm, tired smile. Leaning into Time's side with a pleased exhale. Time gave an embarrassed huff, tugging at his ear which immediately had Peter's interest fixed on him. All the power of existence and he still hadn't lost that telling habit. 

" I'm sorry Henry." He apologised sincerely. 

"It was a last minute thing." He gave Night a conspiratorial grin, before declaring with an awkward beam . "We may.. have gotten married."

He felt the steady, slow thrum of the old man's life force blast into a concerto, as Henry laughed disbelieving. Rounding the bar in a flash, he delivered a firm slap to Time's arm, which Time noted, felt like an insect had accidentally collided with him. Before he grabbed Night's hand and shook it vigorously. "Robert you old dog!! Congratulations, congratulations! And you didn't tell a soul?!" 

Time shared a flustered look with Night before shrugging. "It was kind of a shotgun situation."

Henry laughed riotously at that. Giving Time's arm another firm slap. "Oh I bet it was, I bet. Trust you Robbie. I'd ask, are you going to carry your husband over the threshold, but you both look dead on your feet." He looked towards the kitchens, then gave them a kind smile, gesturing towards their regular table. "How about I get the kettle on before I go? And I think there's some of Martha's cheesecake left in the back."

Time all but collapsed into his chair. Giving an exhausted grumble as he dragged a chair from the nearest table across to sit at their side. Night gently manoeuvred Dusk onto its top rail. Before gracefully taking his usual seat. 

" That would be heavenly Henry. Thank you!"

Time glanced at Night, taking in his worn out, but contented expression. His dark hair spilled over his shoulder, the slightest glimmer of something more than a natural reflective sheen, trailing down it in the low light. Pulling a hand through his own locks, he checked covertly, still auburn. Good. He was using more energy than he wished in his drained state to keep his appearance fixed. But it was worth it to be back. 

Henry bustled out from the kitchen, arms loaded with plates and cups the way only a practised waiter could. "There we are." He placed mugs full of steaming tea infront if Time and Night. Then followed it with three plates of delectable looking cake. One for each of them. And one placed proudly down in front of Dusk. Who gave it an indifferent stare. "And some for this beauty. I remember Matthew always liked his own portion. Where is the little blighter then?" 

Night sat his tea down regally into its saucer. Before responding, "My son has just taken up his own residence. I left Matthew with him so they may look after each other." 

"Uni is it?" Henry asked, not waiting for any sign of confirmation as he pushed a plate of now broken up crumbs and cream eagerly towards Dusk. "I remember when it was my Tom. The wife cried buckets. They grow up so fast ey?" 

Night nodded in solemn agreement. "Indeed. It was only mere days ago he was a toddler."

Time smirked into his teacup as Henry, having given up trying to convince Dusk to eat, gave Night a consoling pat on the shoulder. "Oh ay, I know that feeling well."

He righted a few of the chairs and tables around them. Before giving Night a mischievous grin. "But you're pulling my leg. You're not old enough to have a boy closing in on twenty."

Night returned his smirk with an equally playful quirk of his mouth. "You would be surprised, Henry."

Chortling, Henry returned to the bar, packing up the last of the day's business. "Well, time has been very kind to you then. You lucky bugger!"

At that, Night fixed Time with an adoring look. "Oh, far kinder than I often deserved Henry." 

Time reached out his hand across the table, resting it gently, palm up on the table. Night, sent him a small, loving smile before placing his own hand down upon it delicately, fingers twining about each other's wrists. 

The sound of a few doors slamming shut echoed about the room, then Henry emerged again, shrugging on his jacket, making his way towards the door. He gave the couple a tender look, before motioning to the exit. "Well, now that you're both settled in. I'll let myself out. Robbie, and ofcourse our new Mr Gadling. It's good to have you home." He raised a hand in farewell, then left, shutting the door quietly behind him. 

Time leant back in his chair, exhaling in satisfaction. He closed his eyes, listening to the quiet thrum of existence from the furniture, the walls, the streets and city beyond, as their life force slowly turned ever forward. If he concentrated, he could feel the rotations of the Earth beneath his feet. Somewhere beyond, he gave her a gentle spin, trailing his finger through her oceans. 

Home. 

…………….. 

Sol peeked his head inquisitively over the horizon. His first rays spilled down the streets of London, rippled upon the waves of the Thames, their soft glows illuminating through window curiously, searching for his new master. Fluttering gaily between his beams, an ethereal feminine figure, twirling in robes of white, blue and pink, tapped at each plane of glass and laughed joyfully. At one window, she peaked, giggled mischievously, then disappeared in a flurry of bird song and dew. 

On the little window box that sat in front, an owl, pale and opalescent as the morning haze, eyes gleaming and golden as the sunrise, landed gracefully beside their darker twin. Dawn chirruped to her sister in joyful greeting. Before snuggling into her side and joining her in a peaceful slumber as the sky lightened. 

Within the room, two figures knelt on the bed, one astride the other, slim pale back pressed against a broad furred chest, sheets twined about their legs. 

Night cracked his eyes open and watched his handmaid's antics with disinterest. A second later, sols rays streamed into the room, setting their bodies aglow with triumph. Scrunching his eyes, Night tipped back his head, letting it rest upon his husband's shoulder. Be gone Sol! He felt the rays soften in apology, their heat trailing across his skin in pardon, before the beams departed, the sun continuing on its journey. 

He felt Time quicken his lazy thrusts, force intensifying, aim sharpening and let out a pleased, drawn moan. Trailing his hands up his husbands thighs, he rested them at his hips, feeling the surge of each upward rock. Tightening his own hips, he clenched down on Time's length, drawing up, hold taut before dropping back vigour. Infinitely smug when he heard a pleasured groan by his ear and the seconds of the digital clock before him leap back and forth erratically. 

"Be careful my love, remember where you are." 

Time brought a binding arm about his waist and snapped his hips up as he locked him in place. Night let out a shriek as flames roared through his nerves. 

In the pale blue skies above, Venus blinked confusedly back into sight. Searching in bewilderment for the source of her summons, before twinkling good humouredly, blazing one last time in salutation. Then subtly disappearing from the rising morn again.

Time smiled amused into Night's nape. "You remember." Then adjusting his hold, he twisted them both with ease, bringing Night with a forceful slam to support himself with frantic hands against the bedhead. Resting his own palms upon the wall directly behind, Time began to pound into Night with an unforgiving pace. Leaving him able to do nothing but writhe desperately, screeching in pleasure with each powerful thrust. 

"That's right" Time panted hotly. "My Morpheus, my beautiful darkness, my nightingale. Sing for me!"

If anyone was by the riverfront that early morning. They may have seen the waves of the great Themesis rise in a sudden, inexplicable swell. The current escalating in a rapid, powerful flow, rocking the tour boats moored along its banks violently. Then, with a sudden great surge, it settled. 

Below, Martha Lewis, the keys to the New Inn still swinging idly from her fingers, looked to the ceiling, shook her head with an amused chuckle. Then set about readying the ovens for the morning ahead. 

In their little flat above, Night and Time laid entwined together on the bed, letting the vibrations of awakening life around them sweep over them. Time trailed a finger idly across Night's side. "I have been thinking, love. I would rather like us to stay... Here on Earth." He said haltingly. "For a while." 

Night smiled at him sweetly, sweeping in to place a tender kiss upon his lips. "Of course my love. If it brings you peace we can stay until the horsemen ride. If that is what you wish. It is but the blink of an eye for us after all."

Time gave a satisfied hum, pulling Night  to him to lay upon his chest. "Together forever," He declared with serene ecstasy. 

Night gave a fond smile, stoking down Time's chest hair with relish. Trailing his fingers lightly down its path, teasing as it thinned over lower stomach, then grew abundant again at the base of his husband's flagging manhood. He dug his hands into the public curls, massaging. Watching as Time's cock perk once more at the attention. "No one has forever my love, not truly. A life with no end, even for those such as we, is implausible." 

Time's hips began to rock and Night took him in hand, pumping languidly. They shared a sultry kiss, Time drawing back, giving Night a challenging, entertained leer." Wanna bet?" 

Night huffed, eyes darkening in arousal before tightening his grip about his husband. "Care to prove me wrong, my love?" 

Time arched, slapping hungrily at the pert swell of his husband's arse. Kneading his fingers into the pale flesh with a playful grin. "Always!" 

Night gave a warm chuckle. "If anyone can will true eternal life into existence." He whispered huskily. "It shall be you Hob Gadling." He then placed an adoring peck to Time's chin, then collar bone, then rib cage. Trailing his way slowly downwards before giving a final impish nip to the skin just below Time's belly button. Sending his husband a sensual, promising glance as he slunk down with predatory grace to claim his prize. 

The unusual activity that beset the city of London that day was written off, quietly and conveniently, in the most British of fashions, as being 'A bit strange.' In the Threshold, Desire kicked their heels and purred in bliss, as their realm puslated with raw power around them. 

…………….. 

Three Months Later 

"You're absolutely sure this is what you want, duck?" 

Night looked to Time, nodding with conviction, before turning his attention back to the ruined structure before him. At his shoulder, Dawn gazed, intrigued at the decrepit building, just about able to keep itself standing. Her pale feathers glistened in the afternoon sun, beautifully contrasting Night's attire of deep blues and blacks. 

Time clapped his hands together with finality, giving the small woman by his side an excited grin." Right, well. Consider it a deal then, Mrs Crowther. Thank you for being open to our request." 

Mrs Crowther, a tiny woman, with hair pristinely gelled into place and a prim badge at her breast, declaring her name and position within the local council, sagged with relief. 

"Oh it's our pleasure really Mr Gadling. With our budget reduced as it is, renovation was completely out of the question. And what with the countless petitions we've had fighting its demolition. Well, it would have just continued to sit here. You did us a favour taking it off our hands."

She gave them an intrigued glance, obviously fighting her own curiosity before asking," May I enquire what your plans are?" 

Time looked to the building, hands waving expressively, as if trying to draw out an invisible portrait for her." Reconstruction, as much as possible! There's so much history in the place you know! It'd be a shame to lose it. Then a private house. Lots of room for the family to visit and plenty of space to run the business."

Mrs Crowther instantly perked at that. "Oh, what are you in?" 

"Clocks." Time said with all the believability of a lying child, caught mid transgression. "Morpheus is an astrophysicist." Mrs Crowther shot an openly questioning look in Night's direction. Lingering with a raised eyebrow on the owl perched at his shoulder and the opulent clasp, adorned with stars, holding his hair in a loose half ponytail. She probably thought they were some kind of criminal elite, Time surmised. Ah well, at least it would help to keep away unwanted attention. 

She gave them a strained, if polite smile. "Oh, lovely." Then looked to her car wistfully, before turning back to them with an overly enthusiastic demeanour. "Well I'll leave you two to it shall I? I'll get the paperwork sent across this afternoon Mr Gadling." She shook Time's hand once more before striding away as quickly as civility allowed. 

With an enthused leap, Time bound to the doorway, placing his hand upon the frame, feeling the wood begin to strengthen under his palm. "I'll breathe some life back into the old girl. Restoring her just wasn't possible before. But now, if I give her just enough of a boost." He turned giddily to Night, who sauntered towards him with a pleased smile. "I'll get the team that covers wear and tear at the New Inn for the rest. Good lads. And there'll be no questions asked about  how it miraculously sprang back to life that way."

He turned in a circle, taking in the railing, closing off the property with interest. "We can put up a perimeter wall, for a bit of privacy. And gardens running all the way down to the river!" His growing excitement caused bunches of dandelions to surge optimistically in clumps  around the land site. 

Bounding back to the building, Time gave the wall a hearty slap. Dawn ruffled her feathers at the hail of dust it caused to rain down on them. 

"The downstairs, a reception hall, dining room, throne room. She'll break more laws of physics then the inside of the tardis when I'm done!  And upstairs, a private area for the family. A grand library for you love. And a master and seven suits for the family." 

"Eight my lord." Dawn interrupted in a polite yet chipper tone.

Time stilled, before turning to the owl with a dazed expression. "What was that Dawn?" 

Dawn preened Night's hair, as Time watched his beloved's eyes glance anywhere but him. 

"Young sire shall be requiring eight rooms for the children, not seven." Dawn proclaimed with merry assurity. 

Time moved not an inch for a minute before tenderly taking Night's hands in his own. A look of disbelieving awe in his eyes as he tried desperately to fight his growing elation.

"Night, my Darkness?" 

Night's eyes rose to meet his, comets shooting a blazing trail within, leaving vibrant paths of gleaming dust in their wake. "Eight." He admitted, with a blissful smile. Time's answering beam shone like the very spark of creation itself. 

"Do you know their name yet?" 

Night gave a slight smirk, stepping into Time's arms and whispering to his lips, 

"It appears you have proved me wrong yet again, husband mine. They shall be… Eternity."

Behind them, within the husk of the White Horse, the ancient hearth roared to life.

(Yup... They're starting their own little brood of cosmic munshkins, and moving to the next letter of the alphabet. 😆 For anyone interested, Dusk and Dawn are based very heavily of European Eagle Owls. They're a large species of owl who are crepuscularx, meaning they hunt at dusk and dawn when the light has not fully set or come out. It seemed apt.

Well that's it! My very first full length fanfic is complete! I did it!! (Insert a high pitched squeee!) A huge thank you to everyone who took a chance on this random headcanon of a fic. And massive outpourings of love for all your fabulous comments, likes and reblogs. And a humongous thanks once again to @ibrithir-was-here @kat-wick and @mashumaru for your phenomenonal artwork. I think I'm going to go lay down now. 😅)

[somberlust]

SMUT ONE PIECE CROCODILE x woman

Sir CrocodileCharacter description from the One Piece Blue collection: "Crocodile trusts no one, very intelligent, physically powerful, he feels no remorse in sacrificing others for his own benefit." Unlike Doflamingo who tends to joke, Crocodile is very serious.

He is huge and his muscles are impressive. His gaze gives the impression that he would have no remorse in eliminating anyone who annoys him. He is a Grand Corsair, that is to say a pirate lord who works for the government (also known as Shichibukai). He is mutilated: his left hand is no longer there. In its place, a huge metal hook. He ate the sand fruit and can therefore control the sand at will, and even transform parts of his anatomy into sand. Like all devil fruit users, he fears water (sea water). Location of the story: in his office / secret lounge of the casino in the kingdom of Alabasta. At the back of the room, a huge aquarium populated by crocodiles, the favorite animal of the master of the place. One Piece's context:  Luffy's crew is imprisoned by their enemy, Crocodile, in a cage made of marine granite (which neutralizes the powers of the devil fruits). Luffy, Nami, Usopp, Sanji, Zoro. They can't get out. With them, two members of the navy: Smoker and his partner Tashigi. Their powers: Nami is a thief, Luffy is very flexible/stretchy, Smoker can produce smoke, Zoro has katanas and fights with them. The liberties taken with the original work: Sanji is in the cage, Nico Robin, Chopper and Vivi are not present. 

Context: Luna, a  thief, is caught in the act by the security service of  Crocodile's Casino. They take her to the Grand Corsaire. She can't afford to pay the fine. She knows deep down that she is not going to have a good time. She offered Crocodile whatever he wanted in exchange for letting her go. Story:His huge hook held her by the back of the neck. The thief was panting. She didn't want to die because of a botched slot machine heist! The man holding her prisoner was terrifying... tall, muscular, with shiny black mid-length hair slicked back, pale skin and a scar running horizontally across half of his face. His left hand was gone, in its place was a huge golden hook. Everything about him exuded violence and cruelty. He wanted to repay himself with her life... maybe, isntead, he could be satisfied with her body. She gathered her courage and rushed towards his face. She kissed him, her neck still firmly imprisoned by the hook. The pirate raised his eyebrows in surprise, which was unusual for him who usually contented himself with his mono expression of smugness. The girl wasn't kissing him: she was raping his mouth, her little hands gripping the back of his neck, her fingers scratching his scalp.

"Euuuuuurk", Luffy said, watching from behind his bars. Crocodile: "I accept your payment, but I warn you, you're going to have to give of yourself" Saying this, he slid his hook on her cheek, as if he were caressing her and let it cling to the mesh of her dress. Then he pulled. The dress tore into shreds and Luna ended up in her underwear. At the sight of this spectacle, the boys in the cage dropped their jaws. Sanji briefly bled from the nose then he entered into an uncontrollable rage and rushed against the bars: "You sick man, is it okay to treat a young lady like that? If I get out of this cage I'll make you eat your hook!" The Crocodile smiled, took Luna in his arms and threw her on the huge sofa facing the cage. Then he leaned over her and without ceremony, brutally introduced a few fingers into her private parts. The thief arched her back and tried to hide her quivering body from the eyes of the spectators. The Crocodile prevented her from doing so with his hook and put her clearly in front of the prisoners. "So that you don't miss anything of the show, little virgin!" Sanji grabbed the bars of his prison and yelled in rage at Zoro "Marimo, cut these bars with your sabers!" "It's no use, I've already tried" sighed the swordsman.

Smoker added: "It's sad to say, but we can't do anything for her." The Crocodile took off his jacket and shirt but kept his long mafia coat. His menacing and half-naked silhouette approached Luna. Luna: "Don't worry prisoners, there's no reason I can't have a good time! " Luna said, sliding her hands over Crocodile's impressive torso muscles, who groaned with satisfaction and pinned her to the cushions, squeezing her by the throat. "Don't think you'll get away with it, it's not going to be a nice romp..." Luna: "Because you think I'm going to let you do what you want?" She slapped him hard. Luffy: Yeah!!! Well done, thief!! Nami: Stop looking, Luffy, turn around! The crew chose to turn away from the scene out of modesty. But as they did so, they heard a sadistic laugh emerge from behind them, from the Crocodile. The reason for this laughter: the entire wall was a mirror that still reflected the scene they were trying to escape out of respect for Luna. Crocodile: "You're not going to let me do what I want? Maybe you'll be less boring than expected then." The thief grabbed the corsair by the collar of his coat, threw him back on the couch and straddled him. Then she went back to raping his mouth. The corsair let her do it. She kissed him with all the conviction of someone determined to save their own skin. Luna: "So mister Pirate Lord? I thought this wasn't going to be a nice romp? It all seems a bit soft to me..." she said, putting her hand down to his package. As she did, she felt the Crocodile's manhood harden. Crocodile: "Don't play that game, little one, I might break you in two... not that it bothers me but I'd like to have a little fun first, I'm not a necrophiliac... " He pushed Luna by the shoulders whose head landed near his crotch. The corsair opened his pants and shoved his penis into the thief's mouth without asking, forcing her head in an obscene back and forth motion. Luna dug her nails into the Crocodile's forearms, hoping to make him let go, but it was obviously ineffective. Luffy was speechless. Nami put a hand in front of his eyes: "Don't look at that, you're too young." Sanji was boiling with rage, Smoker and Zoro were stoic like marble statues but their eyes were shining and their hands were shaking. Usopp had lost consciousness. Luna was choking: the Crocodile was too big for her frail jaw. "So little thief? Are we still being smart?" said the pirate before throwing her onto the couch. "Do you still want to slap me?" Sbaff! a heavy slap landed on Luna's face, who fell flat on her stomach. She swallowed her tears. She couldn't afford to cry in front of him or she would lose her chances of getting out of this. The Crocodile pulled her by her long hair to force her to raise her torso and then he tore off what was left of her underwear. The young Tashigi was crying at the sight. Luffy approached her and placed his hat on her head so she could hide her eyes. The Navy swordswoman timidly accepted the offer. Smoker: He has no intention of sparing her. He will continue to rape her. Then she will no longer be of any use to him and will be a witness who could tarnish his image as the savior of Alabasta. So... Zoro: He will kill her. Sanji was on his knees, his hands hanging from the bars of his cage and his face ravaged with despair. 

In front of them, Crocodile continued his atrocities. He held Luna by the hair like a leash and took her doggy style, his hook encircling her throat. Luna moaned in pain and let out tears that darkened the red velvet of the couch. Her gaze met Luffy's, so she blushed with shame at being exposed to everyone's view in this humiliating position. She looked away, her eyes misty. Luffy growled in rage. He turned around to face the Marine officer. "Smoker! I beg you, we are enemies, but for her try to produce a smoke screen. She is not a spectacle!" The Marine nodded. He stood up and stood as far as possible from the marine granite bars, hoping that his power would work anyway. But it didn't. Crocodile pushed the thief back onto the couch. The movement was so violent that she ended up on the ground, her head thrown onto the marble. Crocodile wrapped himself in his coat and approached the cage, laughing out loud. "You are weak and pathetic. Your sentiments and humanity will lead you to nothing except defeat. Look at what happens to the weak!" he said, stretching out an arm towards where Luna was. To his great surprise, he noticed that a sofa's cushion had replaced the thief. He turned around and took the young woman full in the face. She had gotten up and jumped off the couch to throw herself at Crocodile, grabbing a sword that Zoro had thrown at her. She struck him in the face, a bloody cut appeared! Immediately healed by the sandy power of the devil fruit.

The Crocodile grabbed the young girl by the throat and lifted her into the air. "You still don't understand? Whether it's stealing my money or hitting me, you can't do anything against me. You're powerless." Luna's feet were churning through the void, at full speed as the corsair's grip tightened. He shook her so hard that she let go of Zoro's Sandai sword. She was going to run out of air. She kicked the Crocodile in the crotch, who let her go because of  the pain. She had always remembered that a thief was, by definition, someone optimistic. A person who knew the risks but went anyway because she decided to believe she would succeed. Unfortunately, at this point, the thieves' optimism had almost completely deserted her. All that remained was rage and fear. "I may be weak, but I'm not powerless: I will fight you until my last breath. " The Crocodile snickered as he watched this naked girl, twice his size, bend down to retrieve the katana and run as far away from him as possible. "I want to see..." The corsair materialized in front of her, snatched the saber from her and threw it far away. Then he trapped her against a wall, grabbed her thighs to cross them around his waist and immobilized her wrists above her head. He adjusted his position and penetrated her brutally. She let out an ambiguous scream. She surrounded him with her alabaster legs while he slid his hook over her skin, creating micro cuts from which beads of red blood escaped. Seeing her like that, her face twisted by pain as well as by what seemed to be pleasure, drove Crocodile crazy. He slid his penis out of her for a moment. Then he turned her around, bent her over. Luna understood what he intended to do. She panicked, scared. And he did it. He sodomized her.

His victim's scream was nothing but pain. He, on the other hand, groaned with pleasure.

"Beg me and I'll stop." "Never!" The pirate went even harder, so much so that the thief began to bleed. She struggled to get out of her torturer's grip, but his strength was non negotiable. While continuing his work, he strangled her with his hook. "Beg and I'll stop!" "Never!!!" Luna cried. The pirate threw her against a wall, placed one of her hands on the plaster and ensured her immobility by piercing her palm with his hook. She stopped herself from screaming in pain. "Beg!" he thundered. "I'd rather die!!" Luffy, Sanji and Usopp screamed "Nooo!" as one man. The thief tore the hook from her hands, ignoring the pain, and sent a knee strike to the Crocodile's crotch. This would give her a few seconds of freedom. Luna thought quickly: the saber was too far away. She then rushed towards the cage where she slipped a mysterious object to Nami, whispering a sentence in her ear. The corsair was getting closer to her but he hadn't seen anything. She then pretended to shake the bars as if she was trying to free them so that they would come to her aid. The Crocodile was behind her now."Don't pay attention to them, I'll take care of them later." She felt his threatening presence behind her. She shivered. She felt the blood running down her body damaged by the fight. Hope was almost dead. She met the prisoners' gaze. That of a young blond man, in particular, filled with compassion, which gave her a bit of warmth in her heart. The thief forced herself to calm down, closed her eyes for a second, took a deep breath and turned back to Crocodile: "You've proven that you know how to be a rapist and a torturer, now prove to me that you can be a man and I will implore you." She arranged her immense hair so that it covered her body like a purple dress. Then she advanced with deft steps towards the Crocodile, ignoring her own blood that was escaping from her wounds and running down her legs. When she reached the man's height, she slid towards him and nestled against his chest. She delicately grabbed his only hand and placed it on the hollow of his back. Then she stroked the immense scar that marked his face with her fingertips and slid her hands into his brown hair to caress it. The torturer shrugged indifferently and let Luna do it. She placed small kisses on his chest and kissed him on the mouth. Then she gently pushed him onto the couch and sat on top of him. She let him penetrate her in an cowgirl manner and undulated gracefully, in rhythm with the lapping of the crocodile aquarium. She placed his only hand on her chest for him to grab it. She began to pant softly with pleasure, biting her lips, her eyes closed, her skin quivering with each thrust. Her moans seemed to conquer the Crocodile. So much the better, that was the goal. Her long hair swept over his scarred body, giving this man a sensory excitement that only delicacy could offer. She leaned over and whispered in the corsair's ear:"Earlier, you wanted me to implore you... so...Make me come, I implore you."

She felt the corsair grow firmer inside her. Most of the men in the room let out an explicit moan, drooling. The girls were red as peonies. Luffy, for his part, looked at them all questioningly. The thief kept impressive control of her body, the rhythm of her hips; undulating relentlessly on the corsair who was beginning to feel his breathing quicken and to sweat a few drops. "I implore you..." Luna repeated. And to emphasize her point, she grabbed the deadly hook and licked it from top to bottom, very slowly, looking its owner straight in the eyes.

 The corsair swallowed. "Okay, I grant you your request." He took Luna in his arms and asked her: "How do you want to be taken?" The thief seemed to moan with excitement. "Take me against the aquarium, I want to contemplate the power of crocodiles while I feel it inside me..." A smile of pleasure devoured the Crocodile's face. "You... if I didn't have to punish you..." And he supported his words with a proper drooly french kiss. His partner seemed in heaven. "Let me know all the power and violence of a Shichibukai!" she said, taking off his coat and wrapping herself in it. Then, surrounded by the Crocodile's velvet, she knelt down in front of him and gave his manhood the same treatment as she had given his hook. The Crocodile held her head like at the beginning, but this time, it was to stop his hand from trembling with pleasure. The thief ended up swallowing the pirate's powerful organ in its entirety and took great pleasure in going back and forth with her mouth. The great Corsair couldn't take it anymore. She was this close to finish him. He released the thief's mouth, lifted her off the ground and pressed her face against the glass of the aquarium. There he leaned down to kiss her sex, slipped his tongue in it and began to make her scream. The thief leaned against the glass wall, contemplating the reptiles in front of her devouring scraps of meat, and seeing in the reflection of the glass the Corsair, kneeling behind her and entirely devoted to her pleasure. She smiled maliciously. The man stood up and took off her coat to place it on his own shoulders. He lifted his little thief off the ground and placed her on the ground, to take her in the simple and very effective missionary position. Luna thought she was going to die crushed by this colossus of muscles who dominated her entirely. He penetrated her and launched the final assault. The thief almost lost consciousness, it shouldn't be allowed for such evil men to be so good at sex, because it was very disturbing to feel pleasure "thanks" to her torturer. She had to force herself to regain her senses and concentrate. Once she pulled herself together, she screamed: "Namiiiiiiiiii!"

A moment later, a Luffy shaped red and blue flash came at full speed against the aquarium and shattered the glass, releasing perilous waves for the one who had eaten the fruit of the sands. Luna tore herself away from his embrace and ran to the other end of the room.

The crew had managed to escape thanks to the hairpin that the young woman had entrusted to Nami, also an expert thief in the world of piracy. She had whispered in her ear to be ready to go out at her signal and explode the glass so that the water would paralyze the Crocodile. And now that Luffy had burst the aquarium, she was free, she had managed to fool the vigilance of her torturer.

Sanji rushed towards her to offer her his jacket and take her in his arms. Luffy stuck to them to participate in the collective hug.Zoro and Smoker got into a fighting position, ready to fight the pirate. But he seemed to have been carried away into the aquarium as evidenced by the dark shape floating in the distance. "We must not delay," said Usopp, "the crocs will come back..." The group nodded.

"Can you carry me sir? I have no more strength..." the thief asked Sanji timidly. She had recognized the young blond man with the compassionate gaze. But the pressure that had subsided as well as her multiple injuries made Luna's legs tremble and almost prevented her from walking. "But obviously beautiful young lady!! To which city?" said the cook, carrying her like a princess. The princess expired from fatigue and nestled her head in the hollow of his neck. He went to place an affectionate kiss on the top of her head, but changed his mind, as she was not in a position to offer her consent.

Then without further ado, the crew set off. "Don't worry, we'll get you on board our ship and get you healed! But before that, we'll have a banquet to celebrate your release!!" Luffy said. Zoro rolled his eyes. : "Let her rest before you steal her food..." Smoker cleared his throat. Tashigi noticed and addressed her superior."I suppose we can give them a little head start this time, boss?""I suppose..." the Marine replied. Luffy smiled with all his teeth. "Here Luffy," Tashigi exclaimed, throwing her straw hat at him, "and thanks again!" Luffy caught it in mid-air with his head."You're welcome, Miss Katana!" Nami turned to Luna and reminded her: "Don't forget to pick up your stolen goods! Making Crocodile pay for every last berry is a great revenge!" "You're right!" Luna replied! She jumped out of Sanji's arms and ran as best she could to get her underwear and her bag of money. Meanwhile, the crew was trying to share their clothes so she wouldn't have to cross the city in her underwear.She had gotten dressed again and shared her loot with the crew, to thank them.

As everyone hugged her, she seemed to remember something and suddenly left for the other side of the room. "Zoro! I forgot to give you back your sword!!" Sanji mocked Zoro: - He's so stupid that he even forgets his katanas, good luck becoming the "best swordsman in the world" Marimo... Zoro was going to respond by throwing a punch at the cook. While they were bickering, Luna was looking for the sword. She finally found it under the broken glass of the aquarium. She opened the katana: it was indeed the Sandai Kitetsu... this blade that was supposed to be cursed had contributed to saving her life. She closed the weapon and stood up.

Suddenly, a body pressed itself against the thief's back and a hand gripped her throat."All of you Mugiwara and the Navy, this is what happens when you try to defeat me."

Crocodile had come back from the dead and was holding the young woman restrained against him. He raised his arm and planted his hook in Luna's heart. The weapon pierced her ribcage from side to side. The young girl only had time for alook of surprise on her face. Then she belched blood that joined the old drips on her body.

"You lose." Crocodile dropped the body at his feet, stepped over it and headed towards the crew. The dark shape floating inside the aquarium was actually his big coat that had been swept away by the waves. Nami fell to her knees. Luffy screamed: "The thief!!!!" and threw his fists at the pirate. Crocodile took advantage of it to send him with a monumental punch into the marine granite cage. The last thing Luna saw was Straw Hat being subdued and thrown into prison by her assassin. She let a tear roll at the sight of the innocent young boy throwing himself against the bars to break them while screaming her name. She smiled at him, exausted. Then her eyes closed, definitively.

[saturrnss]

—-HOBIE’S CANON EVENT (headcanon)—-

Warnings: violent death, daddy issues, mentions of police brutality and underaged drinking, mentions of police corruption

A/n: I’m pulling this straight out of my ass cheeks so do with that what you will. And also I know London banned guns but I’m the writer so I can do anything

😁

.hobie never likes to talk about his canon event, only Miguel and Gwen know about it, and he will literally kill anyone who tries to bring it up.

•••

Lieutenant James Campbell was the worst cop on the London police force.

He was mean, cruel and nasty.

So many innocent people went to jail for a long time because of him and so many abusers and Murderers got out because their lawyers paid him.

He didn’t care for any of the citizens, he was so bad that it was the start of hobie’s long term hatred for cops

But some how, someway. His father- Officer Daniel brown was friends with him.

“I’ve known him since kindergarten, he's not be that bad”

His father used to say whenever hobie tried to bring his cruelty up or make side eye him when he was around.

Hobie never understood it. “How could you let that pig around here!?” “Not even turn ‘em in?!” He thought to himself.

One day, a couple of months after he got bit, he got into an argument which he started after he cussed James out which made him storm off.

“I can believe you defend that fucking clown!!” He yelled. “Clam down“ his father softly but sternly replied with. “I’m not gonna calm down! You willingly jerk those guys off like they’re gonna see you any differently!’’

“I don’t know those people that you hang out with, but I can see the number they did on you” Daniel says, fixing his tie at the kitchen counter and putting his police hat on.

“Don’t bring them into this!’’ He said being even more enraged at the fact that he was basically being ignored.

His father stepped away from the counter and went toward the door of the apartment, but hobie still wasn’t gonna let it go.

“No wonder mom left you, I wouldn’t wanna be with such a cunt either.”

He stopped in his tracks.

“….what did you say?” Daniel said without moving a muscle.

And before hobie could repeat it again his father jumped at him from across the room, forcing him against the wall by his shirt.

“Speak on her again in that way! Speak!!!” He yelled right in his face, spit getting all over.

And for the first time, he didn’t comply.

He would never admit it, but that was the first time, in years, that he felt like he pushed-too far.

His father dropped him and walked away from him, sucking his anger back into him and straightening himself up.

The sheer fear, that hobie felt a few moments ago is a feeling that he would never feel again in his lifetime.

He dad takes a deep breath. “I never wanted to be a cop.” Hobie looks up, confused as to what his father was saying.

“When I was younger me and my mates used to get into a lot of trouble with them,” he says. "but as I grew up, I realized that making a difference isn't just running around, high and confused, it’s about working inside the system. It might not look like it but I have to be very, careful with the power I have now."

He gets his jacket. "One less racist cop at a time." he stops again. "I'm not mad at you, Hobart. You're a young black trying to figure it all out," "but there's just some ways you go about it."

He opens the door and looks back one final time.

"I love you."

Hobie doesn't say anything.

He tries to wait for a couple of seconds, hobie usually breaks the silence with a response but this time he doesn't.

".....I just hope you know that."

He leaves.

And hobie is left there, silent.

•••

Later that night, he got shit-faced with his mates Pic and Scabs at this random punk bar they found. The screeching sound of guitars and the audience screaming was so loud that you could barely hear yourself think.

The smell was awful too but you got used to it after a while.

He stumbled out of the place after a couple of hours and puked into the nearest trash can he could find. Everything was so fuzzy, the longest he could go walking in a straight line was a few seconds at most.

But then, while he was trying to find some essence of soberness, blinking red and blue emergency trucks dart passed him on the street- police cars follow.

He usually wouldn't care about things like that but something in his mind was telling him.

"Follow''

So he did.

Part of him still wishes he never listened.

He didn’t really need to run that far since the scene was happening a couple feet away from him. When he got there it was so many people in front of him but it didn’t bother him that much since he was tall as hell.

The body was already covered so he only saw the blood continuing to leak out of it but it was already enough to make his stomach drop.

Something about it was -off- to him, so he pushed through the crowd, and lifted the cover.

And there it was.

His dad laying face first on the ground, multiple stab wounds to his head, brain matter splattered. Hobie was frozen, his face was like stone, he tried to hold back his tears but before he knew it they were filling his eyes and rolling down his cheeks, making his vision blurry even more-so.

“Sir.” A random policeman says, he doesn’t hear. “Sir,” he snaps his fingers in hobie’s face, this time the punk notices him but he just doesn’t care.

“Sir I’m gonna have to ask you to leav-“ the officer says and starts to put his hand on hobie’s shoulder but he instinctively pushes him away. Sooner or later more cops circle around him as he refuses to move away from the body. But before a fight could break out, voice comes out from behind them.

“He’s with me.” The officers stop and stand up straight to hobie’s confusion. He turned around to see the devil himself- lieutenant James, in all his prick-ish glory.

“I think you all should leave.” He says, forcing the officers to leave you alone, still side eyeing the punk while walking away.

For a short while there was silence, just a moment of taking in what was now reality, then James decided to break the ice. “..Sorry..son” he puts his hand on his back which makes both of them cringe to the heaviest degree.

They watch the paramedics put his body on a stretcher and lift him up onto the back of the ambulance but even that wasn’t an emotional moment due to thick air of tension created.

He runs off to get inside the vehicle before they close the door, escaping the awkwardness and into an equally dreadful but weirdly calming environment.

The ride to the hospital felt like an eternity, all he could do was hold his dad’s hand, watching the paramedics trying to save a lost cause.

They got to the Emergency room and rolled the officer away, leaving hobie there, alone, with only himself to comfort.

Later, while hobie was sitting in a waiting chair, trying to distract himself with whatever crappy American sitcom they aired on late night television, a doctor in a long white coat and round glasses approached him.

“You must be Officer Brown’s son.” The doctor says “what of it?” Hobie tries to say in his usual dismissive tone but this time, he can’t bring himself to commit fully.

“…..he was too far gone.” Hobie closes his eyes and sighs, he thought he mentally prepared for it but hearing someone say it was like it cemented itself into reality.

“If you would like,” the doctor said with pity in their voice. “You could come to the room to have one last moment with him.” He hesitated at first but then picked himself up walked to the room with the doctor.

When he entered the room it was a cold and sterile atmosphere, felt like one of those liminal spaces. The colors of the room were almost sickly, everything about it wasn’t right, the only thing that grounded it in reality was the body laying flat in the middle of the room.

The doctor quietly excused themself out of the room and shut the door. Hobie walked to the side of the body and practically just dropped on his father- and cried.

Cried hard. It almost felt like he was a 5 year old again, sitting on his dad’s lap wailing because he broke his arm, but this time he doesn’t feel a warm embrace, the reassurance and comfort of a parental figure.

All he feels is just a cold hand. Lifelessness.

No one to tell him it was gonna be all okay.

Nothing was there anymore.

He barley even remembers the funeral, all he can recount is James, his supposed “best friend” looking bored and laughing up a storm with people.

The case for his dad closed after about 3 months no matter how hard Hobie fought for it to say open.

He couldn’t keep up with rent so he got evicted.

The only option was to stay with his absent mom or James, and no way in hell was that happening.

He found an abandoned warehouse and decorated it to his liking. It’s not like he was depressed or anything but everything just went- numb for a little while.

On rare occasions he felt emotion, but it went away after a few seconds.

Life felt more like a really bad fever dream now.

If you could even call it a dream.

•••

Months after that, he was sleeping on a friend’s couch when the friend, Rob frantically woke him.

“Wake the fuck up Hobbs!!” Rob quietly yells in a panic. “What?!” He says, sitting up dazed. Rob paces back and forth.

"Scabs got merked!!" hobie's mind didn't register it at first. “…huh?" “Scab’s is dead mate!” It still doesn’t compute. “….what?” He says in an uncharacteristically dumbfounded tone. “Do I have to spell it out for you dumbass he is not with us anymore!!”

Then when it finally clicks, the only words he can muster out is

“....who killed him?" he asks but Rob didn't hear it, still pacing and talking to himself. It took hobie to get up and grab Rob by his jacket for him to finally get a straight answer."

"Who. Killed. Him?" He says slowly. "That cunt lieutenant said he had drugs on him when he doesn't even drink. One thing lead to another and he got shot."

His face drops.

At first, he was even more lost, and confused. He sat back down and put his hand into his palms. Then, it was like someone poured boiling water one him to wake up.

For the first time, in a long time, an emotion finally stuck with him.

Rage.

Blind. Rage.

He quickly went to get his guitar and his suit and quickly went toward the door. “Where yo-” hobie had already shut the door before his friend could finish the question.

He changed on the rooftop of the building and swung into the night.

He didn’t even know where that cunt was, all he knew was that he had to do something. Something that would make him feel the pain and numbness that he felt.

And the only way he knew how to do that was by Revenge.

He finally got to the lieutenant’s house- a modest, 2-bedroom house. He didn't have any children, he got divorced rather quickly before he could.

He got in through the window. It was pitch black and he couldn't feel anyone in the house so he walked up to the front door and waited.

He saw certificates and police gear all over the wall along with pictures of him on duty and all he could feel was disgust.

He could feel the sweat dripping down his face in his mask, palms sore from holding the guitar. His suit only made him feel claustrophobic but he didn’t care.

He heard a car pull up. His eyes immediately shot to the window, seeing a black Volkswagen Beetle parked in the driveway. He looks straight at the door, feeling him get out of the car and inch closer and closer to the door.

His heart was beating through his chest and was mentally psyching himself up. The sound of keys jingling just outside the door made him close his eyes.

“Once I deal with him,” he thought. “It will be all over with.”

The doorknob turned and he saw him. From that point on, It was like an out-of-body experience. He didn’t feel like himself- Something came over him.

Maybe it was a greater force than himself, maybe it was all the grief he somehow suppressed it was a mystery.

He doesn’t remember much of the fight, only the fact that James had a broken nose and was losing severely. But when he “got back” to his body, the scene was a horror show.

Blood was all over him, his guitar was broken and James' head looked like it had been split in two. It didn’t take him long to put two and two together.

It was so bad that two teeth were stuck in the bottom of his guitar. He quickly left the scene after he heard a car coming. He got on the roof of Rob’s flat and hid his blood soaked suit and guitar.

He knew he couldn’t leave it there for long or else it would stain. He opened the door to the apartment and immediately went to take a shower, and to be honest, he felt immensely better.

He was mostly glad that nobody would be bothered by him anymore, that there was one less burden on earth, but he couldn’t brush off the fact that something was watching him- Something familiar.

It was the most publicized murder case in the city. The brutality of it all intrigued people the most. “What could have the heroic police officer James Campbell, done to have deserved this fate?”

It made him sick, the blatant rewriting of history. Especially the fact that the authority force had so much more emotion for him than his dad.

That’s when he got his blue latter laces. His friends and the rest of the scene noticed but didn’t say anything nor cared. He got investigated for a bit but due to lack of evidence he was let go.

He took a break from being spider-man for a while, opting to spend time with his friends and to sort of heal. He cleaned his suit and fixed his guitar, trying to live a normal life after what he did.

He still gets night terrors once in a while, it gets mixed in with dreams of his dad. He makes jokes about his laces, smiling at Miles’s dad when he catches him staring at his shoes.

Definitely doesn't feel bad about that son of a bitches death, doesn't have a reason to care anyway. But there's still a pinch of- guilt in the back of his mind.

Festering. If he didn't say what he said, if he just caved in and told him that he loved him. Then he would still be alive.

.

A/N: idk y'all I'm not feeling this one 😔 also hey y'all

Wattpad: sevenstarcigs

Tiktok: sevenstarwp

[lightcreators]

@mvrtogg continue from here

The leprechaun grinned to the man, "So you're Philip Butler? Professor Burke talked about you." he mused leaning over the concrete edge of the bridge the pair were standing on. Oh he knew who Phil Butler was, he also knew Elizabeth Burke wasn't what she believed herself to be. He knew far more than he let on. True, his nature was usually kept a hermit of sort but where was the fun in that? Where was the mischievousness? He thrived on it. Yes, somehow when it came to Burke is was different. He arched a brow and snorted eyes wandering around before settling on the other. " -- thanks. I think. My question is, if I continue to help distract the young Malfoy, wot's in it fer me?"

Amusement flattered almost automatically his features. Rare were the people inside the wizarding world to be aware of resonance of his name, fragment of an faraway period of some of concerned lucky --- Harry Potter, the one in which everyone attention was attracted with, probably mustn’t had forgotten his sweet name though would wishing to avoid the reminder; compared to Draco Malfoy in which he could perceiving potential bloom interestingly … His boss as current Minister of Magic should be associated to these people, however Featherine simply created an suitable landscape inside the chessboarrd, considering she had to controlling the chessboard long enough before the Game Master take his rightful seat, nevertheless wasn’t really involved inside circumstances inside the manner that could be expected of her. Even if Draco eventually exploded a bolt in front of his face concerning couple of affairs who had remained hidden from him, in same manner as his true boss appearance remained unseen to his eyes, the name Featherine or the Doctor wasn’t supposed to fall under his lips --- Elizabeth Burke was an particular case. She was more than a simple witch exploring a particular time aspect of circumstances --- she was more than a companion of some teamed men inside the Ministry, in which sweet name of a Master playfully distracting him --- regardless how close she was towards a mysterious husband searching best of moves, another aspect of her existence remained yet to be discovered … in which brutality of the confession could have been as hard about how realization had been made inside the young Malfoy. Should have been a move that shouldn’t have been done? Oh. He will wait Featherine opinion, comment it. Personally, he didn’t care, he didn’t mind --- he wanted Draco expressing himself inside the most entertaining part of his personality, he desired that boy embracing all his feelings, he wished to be impressed by the kind of cruelty such an angel could offer … Of course, he was first person aware about consequences that will be created on the way, immediately. He doesn’t care. Phobos could bring all repercussions he desired, he will support him, and will remain amused if he managed to bring consequences over Featherine meanwhile remaining unaware of her presence inside the board, and wouldn’t exposing restraints towards revenge ---

Possible confusion his words could have been brought increased further his playfulness. Though, flattery was first emotion to showing up inside his expression towards confirmation about his person. ❝ Oh, I have no doubts Professor Burke talked about me~ ❞ He mused playfully. ❝ She needs a wonderful emotional support with the terrible husband she have~ ❞ Of course, the leprechaun would understand he was mocking freely his own boss inside that strange manner of reference, though he was uncaring concerning his reaction. Featherine left him restrained for years, unable to do an interference he would received order directly from Malfoy himself --- asking simply in return of that boy not to be disappointed. Compared to Phantomhive decades before, as first circumstances were, he didn’t need yet to pressuring the heir of the family handling business in the shadows to close his eyes --- it would be a gesture he would naturally do in total consciousness, and he really hoped he had awareness about what he could do. Whatever if his underground was a little higher than last time they met, when that innocent boy wished to becoming similar to a ghost … ❝ I hope she offered me all the compliments~ ❞ How an horrible person he was an constant reminder of his boss, and himself playfully mused with that notion. Hence, he had been needed for be sure Draco will be an biting dog --- with the right motivation, he could giving him murderous sparks … and with the right remembrance, he would be in first seat for burn the world! He was meant to becoming villain with him. ❝ Oh, you understand it that way. It’s not totally inaccurate though. You did offer him the best of distractions in which he will cling --- it’s magnificent~ Thank for distracting me beautifully with your move with Malfoy~ Such an interesting one, even if brilliant aid indeed. ❞ Playfulness increased. ❝ Lot of gold as you loves it for started. ❞

[annonniiiiieeeee]

So since I moved Casey from being district three to district 7 that means his games changed.

Casey was 13 when he won his games.

His mom was famous for winning her games with a spear she made out of a tree branch. She was a brutal fighter. She was also paranoid beyond belief when Casey was born. She’s a single mother so that means there is no one in district 8 to watch over Casey when she has to attend the games year after year. Casey had to come with her.

He grew up on her hip as she wove deals for her tributes. As she cursed out capital high names. His mother might be the capital menace but he grew up as a darling. He softened her image. When his name is called for the reaping the capital citizens were upset but also completely enraptured in the drama of watching 13 year old Casey Jones be separated from his mother for the first time.

Cassandra wasn’t an idiot. She knows she upsets the capital with her brazen speech and awful temper. She had tried to calm she self since Casey’s brith. Since she was forced to bring him to the capital with her. She knew the capital didn’t like her but she tried to soften her image for her son. She always feared that the capital would try to punish her through him.

Casey being reaped at 13 was a personal attack in her mind. It’s was just luck of the drawl but if the capital didn’t want this then his name wouldn’t have been in the bowl.

No one that young had ever survived the games. The youngest was Usagi who won his games at 14 two years prior. Usagi had also been trained by Katsuichi (the second quarter quell winner) since a young age. It wasn’t legal but no one could prove it, plié Usagi had been a fan favorite.

Casey was going in in a very different scenario. While no one had known about Katsuichi and Usagi’s connection before the arena, everyone knew Casey was Cassandra’s son.

He was going in with a list of people who wanted to sponsor him. He was also going in as the number one target. All the other tributes know that he’s the one getting all the sponsors. They also know that whoever kills him is going to be seen as the villain in the eyes of the capital. They are all severely hoping he goes down in the blood bath or some other hectic event where his death can’t be tied to any of them. Or they hope someone else kills him so they can “avenge” the capital darling.

Casey will have no allies in the arena.

He takes off running as soon as he can and makes his way up a tree, high up where he can’t be seen. There he waits for the two gifts he knows his mom is sending. A sharp rock and twine. He’s able to use both to fashion his own spear.

Then it’s hunting time.

Cassandra raised him well.

He waits up above in the trees and comes down on people when they walk by. The kills are fast and even his small body is enough to push the makeshift spear through them with gravity on his side.

The capital loves it. It’s like watching a mini Cassandra.

But Casey leaves the arena deeply traumatized. After spending weeks with no allies or safe place to go. Weeks of hiding in trees waiting for people to pass by, the game makers get board. Casey might have his mom’s signature weapon but not her ferocity. He’s not actively hunting out opponents.

Originally president Saki was hoping the boy would die but the capital was to invested in him. Sending a mutt to kill the boy wouldn’t go over well. He needed to die at the hands of a tribute not the game makers. He wants the capital to see the savagery of the districts not the cruelty of the games.

The game makers do create mutts or a “natural” event to drawl Casey and other tributes into an outright fight. Casey can’t win that fight. He’s so much smaller then the 18 year old he’s facing. But luck is on his side and whatever drove them together injured the other tribute enough that they can’t fight Casey at full strength.

The fight ends with Casey getting knocked to his back and as the other tribute charges in to kill him, they end up getting impaled on Casey’s spear. They die laying on top of the poor kid.

Casey is deeply traumatized from it all. The only times he feels safe are when he’s with his mom and later with Leo. Watching Leo protect a young tribute during his game and then go on a bloody rampage to avenge them makes Casey wonder what it would have been like to have a teammate like Leo.

When the to meet Leo puts Casey at ease. Leos used to upset little brothers so calming Casey and shielding him from swarmy sponsors is second nature. Durning Raph’s game when the child Raph was working with dies Casey goes to seek Leo out. His mom is out trying to get a sponsor for their remaining kid and Casey can’t be alone after watching a kid get speared to death. He goes to Leo’s floor, where Usagi already is.

Casey isn’t sure why Usagi is there, but he knows he feels safe around Leo and he needs to be around someone he feels safe with right now. Leo doesn’t mind. He welcomes the kid in and let’s him curl up next to him on the couch. Casey passes out curled up to Leo as Leo and Usagi start to plan their next move to keep Raph and Mona alive.

Cassandra eventually finds her son. (She had been in a panic going floor to floor thinking the capital finally took Casey, only to find him curled up at Leo’s side. Leo’s the only person besides herself that Casey is comfortable sleeping in front of. Cassandra doesn’t need any other reason to like Leo.

When the 3rd quarter quell comes ups Cassandra is furious both she and her son were going back to the arena. It wasn’t fair. She’s sure it was rigged. She goes to see who she will have ti kill to keep her son alive and her heart stops for a moment when Leo is called because Casey wouldn’t survive having his only other safe person turned against him.

When Raph volunteers it’s a relief for at least when she’s dead and gone Casey will have Leo. Though having to watch his brother and future sister in law die won’t be easy in Leo. If only there was a way that more of them could get out.