#and yes court systems really are that bad in the US

[onskepa]

Left Behind: Moments

Here is another chapter of the left behind series! Hope you all enjoy!

Left behind series

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Jake’s pov 

“So ummm…..I was told to vlog my day to day stuff. Guess to keep record of things I do and not lose my shit on this planet” Jake tells himself on camera. It has been a few hours since he woke up from his cryo sleep. His body ached, felt like a statue from not moving for 5 years. 

“This is year is 2154….those fuckers lied. It's been 7 years since I left Earth for this jungle gym crap. 7 years felt like nothing. My baby girl, probably in her preteen years right now. I wonder how she is doing. I wouldn't blame her if she hates me, no scratch that. She is incapable of hate. Maybe mad, yeah. But not hate. I want this mission to be done and over with.” 

Jake’s pov

“First day in my avatar…gotta say, it felt fucking amazing. I was able to breathe the native air! Best part, I can run! WOOHOOO! YES! Oh man, never in my life have I felt this amazing. Though I did get carried away. When I woke up in my new body, the excitement got to me. I ran almost all over the fields, the basketball court, the botanical gardens, it felt great. Almost got in trouble but grace was there to save my ass” 

“Still have to adjust to this body, grace is giving me a week to get used to it. I am not the only one though, there is a weird guy named Normal Spellman. Nerdy but otherwise cool. He is the one who studies alongside with tommy. Good pals I can only imagine. He just got his avatar too”

“I bet if my baby girl was here, she would be surprised. With everything really. Maybe a bit scared. Would enjoy it no doubt. Learn how this planet works. I cant help it. I wonder what she is doing. Is she making friends? Doing good in school? So many things. But I know the sooner I get this mission done, the sooner I get home to her” 

“Gotta rest now, got a big day tomorrow, this is Jake Sully, singing out” 

Jake’s pov 

“Colonel Quaritch, tough and kinda scary guy but he keeps people safe here. As safe as it can get on this planet. Met him in the brief meeting as a welcome home type of talk. But, weirdly enough, I admire him. He seems to know what he is doing and how to do it. Said he has a special mission for me, didn't say what yet but to expect a visit from him soon” 

“I can worry about that later. Tomorrow starts a new mission. Get samples from more remote areas of the forest. Norm was given a special task. Try to make a peaceful contact with the aliens here. Na’vi is what they are called. Grace gave me a brief on them. Some important figures too. Guess they have a system of rulers here. Like the old native tribes back on Earth. My missions is to guard and make sure grace and norm get what they need” 

“I will be honest, does not seem too bad. Was given the ok to shoot any possible threats. Practice with the guns, proud to say I have not lost my aim. It is getting late but I still have to do this. Does keep my mind busy, recalling the day’s events. I am starting to get into a routine” 

“After shutting off the camera, I look at the picture of me and my daughter. I would stare at it for a while until my eyes drop. See this? It was the day I won a little toy for her at an arcade. She was so happy. Not often was I able to give her something new. Hopefully the paychecks are getting funded for her needs. I bet she is getting nice, brand new things” 

“So many birthdays I missed. Im so sorry baby girl, but I promise, the second I go back, I will give you the biggest hug ever. Buy you all the gifts you could ever want, hell, if the pay is that good, get a better place. Maybe close to your favorite park that you like to play in. Better yet, go to the zoo like you always wanted. I know you will be much older but I dont care. You are my baby girl for life. Nothing is going to change that” 

“Guess now I better log off. Big day tomorrow, this is Jake Sully, signing off”

Jake’s pov 

“Things didn't go right during the mission and I was split up from grace and norm. A giant weird animal, thana-something called by grace, deadly, found us. Had his eyes on me, grace told me to run so I went the opposite direction of where those to were, to not get them in the crossfire. Seriously, that animal was huge, but I guess by some miracle, a bigger animal came into view. Like in those old nature documentaries, the two giants began to fight. Either way, I made a run for cause I know it was not going to end pretty” 

“I got lost along the way, had no idea where I was or how far I was from the crew. Took me sweet time though. Admiring the pretty sights that Pandora had to offer. Felt like a kid again. Everything was bright, colorful, alive. I can see why the RDA wants to use the resources here. Crazy to think that Earth was one like this. Green, healthy, breathing” 

“Of course somewhere along the way I lost myself even more, lost my gun. Had to make a spear then turn it into  a torch because night came. Now night time felt like a whole different world. Everything glowed, pretty almost neon colors illuminated the plats. Some small creatures also glowed. Sad that I couldn't appreciate it enough. Got attacked” 

“Freaking hyena looking animals, running in a pack. The fire helped create a distance as I ran but they were too many, though I was done for. My ass got saved by an unlikely person” 

Jake’s pov 

“Neytiri, princess of the Omatikaya clan. Scary lady but she saved me. Called me a baby, and told me that I have a strong heart. Stuff happened and next thing you know, I am in their home base. Word passed and neytiri was tasked to train me. Teach me their ways. I am where the RDA needs me to be. It is now only a matter of time. Give the Colonel what he wants, give grace what she wants. It is a win-win situation” 

“Still holding out on that little meeting Quaritch wants to have with me. Maybe it won't be that far, since now I am within the premise of the indigenous, I guess I need to collect more info” 

“A lot happened so to say. I gotta rest soon. If allowed, I can bring something from here, take it with me when I get back home. Pictures seem the best answer. Or something na’vi related. My little girl knows so little of what is being told about pandora. Or knew I should say. How old is she now….? Probably a preteen. Guess I dodged a bullet. I know pre-teen years are hell. No, I shouldn't say that” 

“Soon baby girl. The wait will be worth it. Like I promised. Training day begins tomorrow, so, with that, this is jake sully, signing out” 

Jake’s pov 

“I am part of the people. I am the son of the people and child of Eywa. Passing my iknimaya, taming my ikran, everything. I am na’vi. It feels unreal, hard to accept. Tsu’tey and I are brothers, wasn't that long ago he wanted to kill me, calling me ugly, but now we are at the same level” 

“They celebrated my rebirth. It was fantastic, neytiri made me dance even though I was terrible at it. The whole thing felt magical. Truly, I felt like I really belonged somewhere, being accepted. It felt nice. Just when I thought it couldn't get any better, it did get better” 

“Surprise surprise, I am now mated to neytiri. She took me to the tree of voices, telling me of how sacred and precious it is, being able to connect to their ancestors. It was beautiful. Neytiri was beautiful, still is. Taking my breath away, and my availability” 

“I wouldn't change it for anything, she is someone I have come to love with all my heart. As cheesy as it sounds, it's true. Neytiri changed me, made me better, and I have no regrets”

Jake’s pov 

“They are starting to pressure us, more like me. The RDA really want the omatikaya gone, away from their home tree. Just because it houses the materials they want. It is not easy, none of it is easy. To tell them to leave, when it's been their home for thousands of years. According to Grace, I don't doubt her. This is their home, it is us who are the aliens” 

“They are not going to leave, nothing is going to change their minds. Worst yet, I know quaritch will do drastic things to get what he wants. I was an idiot to follow him, to believe him. What he will do, knowing his tactics, he will shed blood and bullets. I need to warn neytiri, mo’at, tsu’tey. Can't believe this is coming out of my mouth, but I pray to Eywa, that she guides me. What can I do to make sure things don't go downhill” 

“I came to make good money, to finish the mission given to me and be done with. Now, I am in a moral dilemma. I am stuck” 

Jake’s pov

“I am sorry. No amount of sorry’s that I say will ever be enough for anyone. Not to neytiri, not to eytukan, not to mo’at, tsu’tey grace, norm, anyone. It will never be enough. I brought this to them, it is only right that I help. War is coming, and soon. So many na’vi died when they destroyed their home tree. Many wounded, kids, infants, innocent lives” 

“Grace and I did our best to warn them, tell them to leave. Tsu’tey was adamant to fight, their weapons useless against the valkyries. In an instant, all was gone. I wanted to apologize to neytiri, she was furious, telling me I am not one of those people. She is right. Before anything more could be done, those damn bastards forced me to pull out. Pushed me in a tight closure” 

“Quaritch, a beast he is, heartless. Keeping me locked up yet outside of my cage he dangles the picture of my little girl. Telling me it's not too late to take his side if I ever want to go back to earth and see her again. Going on about how she will react to all of this. Her father rebelling against humanity. As much as I hate to admit…”

“He is right….I dont know if I will see her again. I hate to say….sacrifices have got to be made. I'm sorry, but I have to atone my sins. Like I said, no amount of sorry’s will be enough. Not even for my little girl, I am sorry baby girl, but daddy is not coming home”

Jake’s pov 

“We won. Quaritch is dead, and unfortunately, so is Grace and tsu’tey. Both sides lost many lives. Yet that is war, but we won. Humans are no more, many left, only few remained. Sworn their loyalty to the na’vi. Only they can stay. We made many sacrifices, I made many.  Many I dont regret, or will look back to. This is the beginning of a new chapter for me. There is nothing left to hold me back, not my past, not my memories.  I am at peace with what I did” 

“Neytiri is with a child, I am excited, I am going to be a father. I cant wait when they arrive, I will be there, welcoming my son or daughter into a new world of peace. First born, neytiri likes to say it over and over.  She is not wrong, our first child together in a new era of peace” 

“However there is still one thing left to do. A grand celebration is going to be held” 

“This I look forward to, many are coming together for it. It is my birthday after all, can't miss my own party. So, one last time. This is Jake Sully, the human, signing out. For good” 

Third pov

A young girl looks at the last vlog of her father, Jake Sully, eyes wide as she takes in what she just saw. This was a side she never knew, nor did she think it would be hidden.  

She clenches her hands into a fist tightly, gritting her teeth, her body shaking in fury. Hot tears streaming down her face, not knowing whether to cry in sadness or scream in anger. So many emotions mixed, creating a tornado in her mind. 

Hearing a door open behind her, she turns to glare at the man. 

“Why….” was all she could say before breaking down.

Aaaaaaaaaaand that is it for this chapter of the ongoing series! This one I chose to have only jake be the main point, his vlogs. See how his mind changes, perspective and what lead to the final choice. Trust me, this will come back for future chapters. So until next time! See ya!

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[dottores]

HELIOTROPES

pairing: dottore x fem!reader & segments

summary: the gods were sick and twisted. for five hundred years, he believed he was fated to be alone. he had long accepted it—embraced it, even. that is, until a midwinter night when that elusive red thread finally appeared on his finger. but as much as he wants to ignore it, the pull of a soulmate simply cannot be ignored.

genre: soulmate au, canon compliant for the most part

warnings: fem!reader, worldbuilding for snezhnaya & fatui & fontaine

notes: finally reader's pov! and YES, theta segment IS webttore! i started making the segment sheet, ill post it at some point sunday or monday so if u want to see it, keep an eye out for it!

THE COLOR PURPLE

“If anyone is to ask, your soulmark has gone black, your thread is severed, and your soulmate is lost to the world. Should anyone find out that your thread leads to the north, all of us will be under suspicion and Her Excellency is not merciful.”

You stood tall, hands clasped behind your back as you stood between your mother and your half-brother, listening to the Hydro Archon’s announcement. It was an abrupt assembly, as they typically had been lately. You had been preparing for bed when the bell rang throughout the massive palace that housed all of the nation’s aristocrats in the center of Fontaine’s capital city.

If you looked up, you would see the moon high in the sky, the stars glittering against the darkness, but you didn’t dare look away from the Hydro Archon or her court officials.

“... for months, we have allowed ourselves to be lenient with the heretics plaguing our capital. We allowed ourselves to be patient, but the time for leniency and patience is over, we must…”

It was an honor to be welcomed into the Hydro Archon’s abode, the chief justice had claimed, but you knew better. It was no honor for the nobles to be forced out of their countryside estates and into the city--it was a means for surveillance, to make sure that the most influential members of Fontaine’s society were not sympathizers to the growing dissent throughout the capital. 

The people were unhappy. The Hydro Archon was becoming more and more severe with her sentencing, more and more strict with her laws. Fontaine prided itself on being the center of culture and arts, but the nation was declining, their energy apparatuses were failing, and their judicial system was becoming corrupt, though no one dared to say it.

The Hydro Archon’s descent had to do with rebellion stirring in the north. You weren’t sure what it was, exactly, you didn’t think anyone really did, but you had heard your grandfather whispering about it vaguely with some of the other court officials--an uprising against the gods, one that she believed would draw the wrath of Celestia down upon all of Teyvat. You thought this might have begun as a noble cause, the Hydro Archon desperate to protect her people and keep Fontaine absolved of conspiring with Snezhnaya, but it was going to become a witch hunt where anyone with any affiliation to Snezhnaya would be found guilty of collusion. 

You felt acutely aware of the thread tied neatly around your thumb, of the soulmark branded in between your shoulder blades--the ones that connected you to a citizen of Snezhnaya and would make your whole family a target should anyone ever learn. 

You thought it was unfair. It was unfair that you had to hide the fact that you had a soulmate. It was unfair that you and your family would be under suspicion if it got out that your soulmate lived in the north. It was unfair that you had to deal with people gossiping about you because of it--because nothing good ever came along with someone that never received their mark. There were a lot of things unfair, you thought to yourself, and while you didn’t have it as bad as some of the civilians living in Fontaine City who had to deal with the Hydro Archon’s forces constantly prowling the streets looking for dissidents, you thought it was rather ironic that everything unfair about your life stemmed from Celestia’s decision to give people soulmates. 

You frowned as your gaze tracked to the side instinctively, looking at where your mother was standing next to you. Behind your mother, your stepfather lingered. You could feel him hovering directly behind her, you could see him out of the corner of your eye, and you couldn’t help the resentment that pooled in your stomach.

Your stepfather. Your mother’s soulmate. The man who had all but turned your life upside down when you were three years old after his arrival in Fontaine.

“... this organization is a blight upon our esteemed nation and court of law, staining the purity of our ideals, defiling our magnificence in the eyes of the divine…”

You tuned the Hydro Archon out as your gaze drifted back down to your own thread. Your soulmate was annoyed with something--you could feel the emotion deep in your gut, muted enough to know that it was not your own. Your soulmate never really felt anything strongly--not sadness, not fear, not anxiety, and certainly not happiness. You weren’t sure you had ever felt them actually happy before. 

They were angry sometimes, though, and annoyed occasionally. It was never overwhelming like you had overheard some of your peers talk about. They said sometimes it felt as if they could feel their soulmate’s emotions more intensely than their own--when they were angry, a burst of joy or excitement from their soulmate could ease their anger, or worse, when they were in a good mood, a surge of anger could have them lashing out at their friends and family for no reason. 

You never experienced any of that, for better or for worse. In fact, for nearly a year after your tenth birthday, the only proof you had that your soulmate was alive was that your mark was still brightly tattooed between your shoulder blades. They did not tug the string back in response to your own goodnight tugs--though you tried not to let it bother you--and you never really felt anything from them, pain nor emotions.

It wasn’t until you learned how to separate their tiny inflections from your own emotions that you had a way of knowing whether or not your soulmate was alive besides the shared mark and thread, but even then it was just… underwhelming. You didn’t know what to expect from your soulmate, which was unfortunate because by your age, most people at least had an idea of their soulmate’s personality through their shared emotions.

“Perhaps, it just means they’re calm,” your nanny, Miss Elyna, had tried to soothe you while you were making yourself upset over it one night. 

“Not feeling anything strongly is not a bad thing,” your father had agreed quietly, “it makes it easier to hide that you have one.”

But you didn’t want to hide, you were sick of hiding--you wanted to go looking for them, you wanted to travel to the frozen wastelands of Snezhnaya, you wanted to wear open-back dresses to show off your mark in hopes that someone had seen the match, you wanted to find them, and you wanted to be with them.

But if you wanted to be with them, it would mean leaving your country behind, leaving your family behind. So much as you might resent your stepfather, you couldn’t bear the thought of leaving your father, your mother, Miss Elyna, or even your half-siblings. Unless the Hydro Archon changed her stance on Snezhnaya, you would be forced into an impossible decision: your blood or your soulmate.

You let out a quiet breath, shaking your head. From the corner of your eye, you caught sight of your stepfather, again. Donned in a lavender dress shirt with a fancy watch that once belonged to your mother’s late father, he looked like the image of Fontaine aristocracy despite hailing from the City of Freedom. 

Purple was your favorite color, it was your family’s color, but you hated how it looked draped against your stepfather’s skin. You felt irked again, unable to draw your gaze from the older man. You hated him--you hated how he treated your father, you hated how he treated you, and you hated how he was trying to pit your half-siblings against you. You knew you couldn’t fault your mother for wanting to be with her soulmate, but if this was her soulmate, you couldn’t help but wonder what that might mean about her.

Your throat felt tight as you forced yourself to look away, eyes instead falling on your grandfather standing at the Hydro Archon’s side as she spoke. He was Warden of the Black Cells, the highest security level of Fontaine’s prison--he was one of the Hydro Archon’s most trusted confidants, the one she counted on to make sure her enemies stayed locked deep beneath the lakes of the city. His eyes were sharp as he stared down at the aristocrats standing before him, reminiscent of a predator hunting its prey, waiting for someone to slip up and place themselves under suspicion. He paid particular attention to your stepfather, you couldn’t help but notice, and it made you almost want to giggle. 

The assembly was finally near its end, you could tell from the Hydro Archon’s tone: “... a curfew will be instated to preserve our-”

And then your arm burned--so intense that it took all your self-control to not cry out, somehow both hot and cold at the same time. It was dragging against your skin in even strokes as if branding letters onto you. You bit down hard on your lower lip, hand flying to clutch your forearm and trying not to make a scene. You could feel several pairs of eyes on you, including your mother, half-brother and stepfather… and your grandfather. 

Branding words. 

You felt light-headed as realization began to hit you. 

It was past midnight. 

It was your birthday, and you were fifteen. 

It was the start of the third phase, and the first time that words were shared between soulmates, the pain was excruciating. 

What terrible timing, you thought to yourself as your eyes teared up and your half-brother shifted in front of you once he noticed something was wrong, looking at you with a questioning look that you couldn’t even respond to.

Just as your vision began to go spotty, you caught sight of the words being seared into your skin--the same shade as the soulmark stamped between your shoulder blades, but only visible to you:

Deactivate. 

“Do you think I won’t have you deactivated, Theta?” Dottore asked, voice calm but internally, his anger was rising as he looked down at the report in front of him detailing the near destruction of one of his labs down in southern Mondstadt and along with it, most of the progress that they had made the past six years in stabilizing delusions.

The Theta Segment looked unbothered, staring at Dottore emptily. “You won’t have me deactivated because you don’t have the resources to create a new segment right now. Otherwise you would have replaced Beta already, and you haven’t. Either way, deactivating me wouldn’t have prevented the situation unless you’ve figured out a way to endow segments with prophetic abilities,” Theta said, voice dry and mocking. 

Beta, Dottore inhaled, trying to reign in his temper as it spiked at the reminder of the Beta segment. His head was pounding--he had been dealing with setbacks in his own research, and the Balladeer was being less than forthcoming regarding information about the Abyss and Irminsul. He was losing his patience with it because the only reason Scaramouche was even capable of withstanding the hostile energy in the Abyss was because Dottore had unlocked his latent powers as an Archon’s creation.

He could by all means deactivate Theta, but Theta was right in that he didn’t have the resources to create another segment to replace him. He had all of the physical materials, despite how hard they were to come by, but he lost the connection to Irminsul he had in Snezhaya, drained the sprout of all of its energy, and he needed the connection to Irminsul to create the segments in the mindsets of his past self. There were rumors of other withered sprouts in the ruins of Vindagnyr--he had the Rho and Gamma segments searching through the bitter cold to try to find ways to revitalize the sprouts, but their efforts had been fruitless thus far. 

“Careful,” he warned quietly, looking up from the report to finally look at the Theta Segment, who stiffened a bit at Dottore’s tone. “You’re testing my patience.”

“There was nothing I could’ve done,” Theta’s voice was still sharp, defensive, which Dottore expected of the segment. Theta was the segment created right after his expulsion from the Akademiya--volatile, uncontrollable, always angry and always on edge. He never took well to being told that he did something wrong, Dottore was surprised it had taken him this long to snap.

“If it were Rho or Delta, they would have made the necessary preparation to deal with such a situation,” Dottore countered, reading through all of the reported damages and lost research. He pressed his lips together tightly as he realized that all of their research had been lost. It would set them back over a year, maybe two or three. “Instead, we-”

“Don’t compare me to them,” Theta bristled, hands fisting at his side, teeth clenched so tight that Dottore could practically hear them grinding. “Not to Delta.”

Dottore smiled thinly, “Then do not do things that make me compare you to them,” he said coldly. He leaned back in his seat, placing the papers down. “This was easily preventable, Theta.”

“How was I supposed to know about a stray wyvern nesting in the Mondstadt countryside?” Theta said, aggressive and loud. 

Dottore stared at him, “You research, Theta,” he responded, tone a bit more sharp. “You research the area where you plan to waste hundreds of thousands of mora building one of our labs to make sure that it’s a location conducive to our research. All of the older segments would have known to look into the property and the surrounding land before throwing away our limited mora. If you can’t even bother to make an effort to show a little bit of responsibility, you will be stripped of your independence and sent to the Fontaine border to assist Delta permanently, do you understand?”

“You can’t do that,” Theta hissed. “I’m not a child-”

“No, you’re not. You are a tool,” Dottore interrupted, “and tools do what they were created for and when they are no longer useful, they are disposed of.”

Theta turned to leave, fists balled tight at his side, Dottore spoke up again before he could walk away, “Did I dismiss you?” he asked. Theta stopped but did not turn to face Dottore. “You will go to Sumeru with Lambda. The two of you will work on replacing all of the lost research. You will explain to him the situation and why he is being forced to halt his part of the residue project. You have half a year to replace all of the lost research.”

“Or what?” Theta spit out. 

Dottore did not respond, he figured that was enough of an answer. 

You will be deactivated. 

Theta scoffed, shaking his head—and just like that, Dottore’s temper snapped. His hand shot forward quickly, iron-grip latching around Theta’s wrist as he yanked the segment closer to him, tone low and laced with poison as he leaned forward over the desk, “You have wasted far more resources than you are worth. Time and time again you have proven yourself to be the most useless segment that I’ve created. Tread carefully because your next mistake will be your last, I don’t care enough to replace you.”

Theta ripped his arm out of Dottore’s grasp, taking a step away. His lips were twisted, and his eyes were ablaze with rage, but he didn’t respond this time. 

Dottore looked back down at the desk, shuffling through the papers and looking for the one that he had been trying to get through before Theta had arrived to disrupt his peace.

“Leave,” he ordered, void of emotion as he relaxed back into his chair. “Now, and don’t ever bring up the Beta segment again.”

Theta didn’t say another word as he left the room, closing the door harshly behind him. Dottore let out a sharp exhale, squeezing the bridge of his nose as he tried to calm himself down so he could refocus. Instinctually, his gaze drew to his other hand, where the thread was tied snugly around his thumb. 

His soulmate hadn’t tugged the thread tonight. He looked back to the window on the far end of the room, where the sky was dark and the stars shone brightly against the black canvas. He wondered if they had finally given up or if they just hadn’t fallen asleep yet--he wasn’t sure which he would prefer. Usually, he could tell when they fell asleep, but this time he had been distracted by Theta and wasn’t paying attention. 

Tonight would be the start of the third phase. 

He looked over to the side, in the direction of the chart that he had set up. He wouldn’t know the exact time, but it was soon, and he was glad he got Theta out of the room before it began. His thread had shown up in the dead of night ten years ago--he remembered the day very well--and he had dreaded this day ever since it had shown up. The third phase was a violation, a breach of his privacy. He did not want his thoughts being transcribed onto a random person at all, much less when he couldn’t even control what words were being sent to them.

This was when the concept of a soulmate really became an issue. They had already been a personal issue, but now it extended beyond just him. It was an issue for the whole organization because if one wrong word got transferred to them and they mentioned it around the wrong people, it could spell a lot of trouble for the Fatui and their goals. 

He should have gone to the Jester by now. He should have gone to him and told him the situation so they could work to track down his soulmate before it got to this point before it put the Fatui at risk. He didn’t know why he hadn’t yet. Something odd and unfamiliar tugged at his gut, an emotion he couldn’t recognize. It wasn’t from his soulmate, he could feel that much, but he convinced himself it was. 

You haven’t gone to the Jester because you’re going to sever the bond, he reminded himself, and then this would become a nonissue. But it was not as easy as he thought it would be. There was no previous research done into severing a bond between soulmates, there were old folktales but no legit information to back the validity of them. Dottore had a feeling that Irminsul would have answers for him and he found it ironic that the tree seemed to be the root of all of his most recent issues--he had half a mind to burn the thing to the ground when he finally got to it. 

Just as he was going to finally force himself to focus back on the report, he felt it--a searing pain in his left forearm, nothing compared to what he had dealt with before but he hadn’t expected it to be as intense as it was. 

He paused only for a second before rolling up his sleeve.

Purple, the word said, and Dottore couldn’t help but shake his head. He wasn’t sure what he had been anticipating from them, but he supposed that a color was about as predictable as it could get. 

He wondered what they might have gotten from him--it could’ve been anything from his argument with Theta to his thoughts on Irminsul. He hoped that it wasn’t the latter. He felt stressed suddenly, rubbing his temples and letting his eyes slide shut as he tried to figure out what he could do, if there was a way that he could control his thoughts and filter out what they could be receiving from him. 

He didn’t think there was, realistically. He had done a lot of research trying to prepare for this day, and he had come up empty-handed. The only way to prevent his soulmate from receiving words he didn’t want them to receive was to stop thinking about them, and that wasn’t an option. He had work to do, research to complete, and he refused to let them interfere more than they already had. 

Hesitating for a second, he reached for a notebook laid out on the desk next to him, jotting down the word he had received before pushing the notebook out of sight and pushing his soulmate out of mind, returning to the heaps of papers he had to get through before the night was up.

You lounged in the garden, relaxing to the soft scent of lilies beneath the gentle glow of the sunset over the horizon. You could hear a songbird chirping in the distance, people chattering in the streets as they made their way back to their homes before curfew, the quiet hum of the apparatuses set up throughout the garden to keep the flora rich and healthy. It wasn’t raining, for once. You swore that the past two weeks had been nothing but torrential downpour, you’d been trapped inside the library of the palace, spending your time reading old tales of forbidden love and the old gods.  

You didn’t like being in Fontaine City. It was always muggy and ugly outside, it was usually raining, and even when the skies were clear, there was a strange, intense mechanical scent that made your head hurt--the only place free of it was the garden on the roof of the palace, but even then, sometimes the sweetness of the flowers was sickly. You wanted to return to the countryside, to your mother’s family estate near the Snezhnayan border where the air was brisk and fresh, and the grass was lush and green, the thick scent of the wild and the subtle scent of smoke from the estate’s fireplace being the ones most familiar and dear to your heart.

You sighed as you rested your head against the cool stone of the statue you were sitting against, pen tapping steadily against your notebook as your eyes grazed over the past few words that you had received from your soulmate: sever, residue, research, failure. 

You couldn’t make much sense of it, you had thought two years ago that maybe you would finally get to know more about your soulmate now that you were sharing thoughts, but you found yourself at even more of a loss than you were at before. They were a complete mystery to you. They thought words in the old tongue rather often--Theta, Iota, Lambda, and Delta, most frequently but there were others that appeared less often: Kappa, Rho, Gamma, Epsilon, Zeta—and no one really knew the old tongue unless they were an academic or some sort of priest of the dead gods. 

And even the thoughts you received in the common tongue were just strange, and you didn’t even understand half of them. Ever since the start of the third phase, you seemed to spend the majority of your days in the palace’s libraries trying to understand them by looking up the random words that were showing up on your forearm, but somehow, it only left you more confused.

You thought that maybe they were a scholar at Sumeru’s Akademiya who had traveled north for research. Fontaine had its own institute, but it focused on engineering and mechanics, not languages, and students who graduated from the institute typically remained in Fontaine unless they were granted leave to introduce and promote their invention to other nations… and even then, they would never be granted leave to Snezhnaya, but as far as you were aware, the Akademiya did not have such restrictions. 

It would be better for you if that were the case--that way, your soulmate wasn’t a citizen of Snezhnaya, and you didn’t have to worry about being prosecuted by the Hydro Archon for treason.

You hummed to yourself, doodling on the corner of your notebook as you eyed the word that was currently branded against your forearm: dead. It followed the string of words you had received earlier in the day--normally, you only received one word from them a day, two if you were lucky, but since you woke up this morning, you’d gone through five words.

You bit down on your bottom lip, hesitating before you finally noted the word down beneath failure, adding it to the grouping you had made for today. Sever, residue, research, failure, dead. Not foreboding at all, you thought to yourself, trying to put together what it all might mean. You weren’t sure how the first word fit in with the rest, but you figured the other four were all related.

Research into some sort of residue? What residue? Failed in whatever they were doing, something or someone ended up dead.

They didn’t seem distressed about it, so you supposed that no one important to them got hurt or died… or if they did, your soulmate simply did not care… and it kind of worried you that you genuinely did not know them well enough to know which was the case. You sighed, a pout tugging at your lips as you looked away from your notebook and up to the sky. 

There was another storm already rolling in, you could see the dark clouds in the distance. You didn’t know what to think about your soulmate. You got strange words from them, you never felt anything from them sans the occasional annoyance or anger, and they never responded to your tugs when you tried to tell them goodnight. 

You supposed it hurt a bit. Your whole life, you had watched kids your age babbling on, excited about their soulmate. You watched them have invisible flicking competitions that only the two of them could follow--seeing who could flick the thread the most before the other person gave up. You watched the way they reacted to feeling waves of emotions from them. You watched the way they would all giggle and talk about the words they received--figuring out their favorite colors, their favorite foods, what they liked to do and maybe even narrow down to where they might be living. You watched as they blushed and got flustered when it became apparent that their soulmate was thinking of them.

You couldn’t do any of that--not only because your soulmate was from, or lived in, Snezhnaya, so you couldn’t even talk to anyone your age about them but also because you weren’t experiencing any of that with your soulmate anyway. Every time you tried to get them to flick the thread back, you were ignored, and your soulmate never thought about you, the most frequent words you received from them were deactivate, failure, and sever. You didn’t know what deactivate meant, you assumed failure was in regards to whatever research they kept thinking about, and you had no idea what they were trying to sever. 

It was frustrating and upsetting. You just wanted a soulmate that you could be with like your peers, someone to be excited about and look forward to. And you were excited, and you did look forward to eventually meeting them, but you couldn’t help but be a bit bummed and anxious over it all.

Three years. 

You were seventeen now. There were three years left until you and your soulmate entered the fourth and final stage--being able to communicate through the shared thoughts and then you would finally get some answers from them.

“There you are.”

You slammed your notebook shut, eyes wide as your head snapped to the side, gaze falling upon your half-siblings, Elliot and Sylvie, approaching you from behind. You smiled as best as you could, trying to glance around to make sure that their father wasn’t following them.

“He’s busy with mother at a meeting,” Sylvie said quietly, eyes lit up with a sort of mischief that you hadn’t seen in her for quite a bit. “We snuck out.”

She spoke hushed, as if the flowers around them might tell her father what she was saying. You supposed it was possible--you wouldn’t put it past the Hydro Archon and the court officials to install listening devices throughout the city to make sure that no one was conspiring against them. 

“How did you sneak past Miss Elyna?” you asked her as the two of them came to sit cross-legged with you on the ground next to a bed of pretty pink flowers. 

They were almost fourteen years old now. Both of them had been born with their marks, so they and their soulmates would be entering the third phase soon too. They were excited, constantly whispering about what they thought their soulmate would be like. You remembered when you had been like that, bouncing around in bed as you rattled off possibilities to Miss Elyna because you had no one else to talk to about it. 

Now, you only felt a dull sense of disappointment.

“She wasn’t looking, so we snuck out the door and ran,” Elliot told you, a bright smile on his face. You doubted that was the case—Miss Elyna had the senses of a hawk, it was more likely she let them leave because it’s their only chance to spend time with you without their father hovering and dragging them away.

You hated their father. At one point, you had been hopeful. You thought that your mother meeting her soulmate would change little in the way your family worked. Your father was more than happy to step aside and let your mother find solace with her fated, but it wasn’t enough for your stepfather. He wanted your father gone and he wanted your brother to replace you as your mother’s heir, but you had no way of proving it. He hid the rotting carcass he called a personality behind a kind smile and empty eyes that your mother refused to look past.

“Can you tell us what it’s like?” Sylvie whispered, drawing you from your thoughts. Your brow furrowed in confusion, shooting her a questioning look, but Sylvie only looked pointedly down at your notebook.

Your eyes widened, instinctively tucking the notebook closer to your chest. Your lips and mouth felt dry as you stared at your half-siblings, trying to figure out if Sylvie was implying that she knew that you had a soulmate. No one should know—no one besides your father and mother and Miss Elyna. You had worried the day you received your first word from your soulmate would draw suspicion, but your father had brushed any unwanted eyes off by telling them you had been ill.

No one should know, you felt sick and anxious, unsure of how to respond to Sylvie--both of them were looking at you expectantly, excited for an answer. 

“It’s okay,” Elliot said, once he realized how upset you suddenly looked. “We’ve known for a while, we won’t-”

“Elliot! Sylvie, have you seen-” 

It was Miss Elyna, out of breath and on the verge of tears--she cut herself off as soon as she saw you hidden behind the statue. You rose to your feet, concerned, “Miss Ely-”

“It’s your father,” Miss Elyna said, voice choked and wobbly. At once, the world around you shattered. “Come, we must hurry.”

“I suppose I owe you thanks,” a familiar voice murmured, approaching Dottore from behind. He tilted his head to the side, glancing over his shoulder to where his old recruit, now promoted to the Ninth seat as the Fatui’s Regrator, came to a stop next to the column that Dottore was leaning against, waiting for his chance to slip away from the celebrations. 

“Thank me with funding,” Dottore said. “I’ve exhausted all of my resources. I’ll need a significant amount of mora and test subjects to begin research into Archon residue if we want to find a safer alternative to delusions any time soon… which I’m sure you’d be personally vested in and I am not cutting the funding from my own personal projects.”

Pantalone let out a huff of laughter, Dottore was not sure what exactly the new Harbinger found amusing about what he said so he turned to face him, lips flat and eyes void of emotion behind the mask he wore.

“Relax, doctor,” Pantalone said quietly. “I have not forgotten about our original deal. Have you not already seen an increase since my induction into the Fatui?” 

“Not a large enough increase in comparison to the risks I took advocating for you,” Dottore said coldly, looking away from him up to where the Jester was preparing with the Captain for the official inauguration of Pantalone as one of the Eleven Harbingers. “Go, this event has lasted long enough. As soon as all of the official business is over with, I can leave.”

Pantalone did not look pleased, lips pressed together tight as his gaze swept across the large room. All of the higher-ranked members of the Fatui based in Snezhnaya were attending the event--agents trained by Arlecchino, vanguard captains trained by Capitano, even some mages and Mirror Maidens that had gone through La Signora’s strict training regiments lingered around where the Eighth Harbinger was lounging back at one of the tables. She looked just as ready for the night to be over as Dottore was. 

Pantalone looked anxious, only thinly concealed behind an otherwise blank expression, and Dottore supposed he couldn’t blame him. All of the people in this room were the people that had been considered and rejected for the Ninth Seat in favor of him. The Fatui were united, yes, but their loyalty only went so far when the prospect of a promotion was dangled in front of their face. Not a single person in this room would forego the chance of taking out the new Harbinger if it gave them a shot at being one of the Eleven. 

They had tried it with him centuries ago, when Dottore had initially been promoted to Harbinger. The Fatui was a younger organization then, less structured and far more anarchic, and there had been more attempts on his life than he could count. Only one had succeeded, and he had made it so that it could never happen again. 

Now that he had centuries of authority, his moniker inducing fear and respect throughout their ranks for all of his accomplishments, he didn’t have to worry much about greedy, ambitious underlings trying to take off his head and claim his position.

But the Regrator would have more trouble, he noted to himself. 

Something felt odd in his chest--a twinge of anxiety, or fear. It was not his own, and he had been blocking off his segments for the duration of the night so he was not interrupted while at an important event. He could only assume that it was coming from his soulmate. He frowned to himself, eyes darting down to his forearm but it was covered by his sleeve, and he would draw too much attention to himself should he go to check if the word had changed. 

Instead, he forced himself to focus on the situation at hand.

Pantalone was no fighter, his delusion harmed him as much as it helped him--more so than it did to the average person--it tore apart his body from the inside whenever he summoned the volatile energy, and he couldn’t even control the energy yet. He was incompetent with a sword, couldn’t pick up a claymore, and was awkward with a polearm. He was decent with aiming a bow, but that would be useless in a close combat assassination like the ones that would be attempted on him. If he were attacked, the only real defense he had would be that decorative blade strapped to his waist. 

Dottore wondered if it would be worth it to enlist Sandrone in creating a sort of projectile weapon that could be used both in close and ranged combat… but that was not something he was going to waste his own time doing, he would present the option to Pantalone only once Dottore’s funding has been increased significantly.

“Is funding the only thing you want?” Pantalone suddenly asked, voice cryptic in a way that Dottore did not like. He peered at the younger man from the corner of his eye, waiting for him to explain himself. But he didn’t, instead, violet eyes only looked down pointedly at Dottore’s right hand--the hand that his red thread was tied around his thumb. Dottore inhaled, not responding, and finally, Pantalone continued, “I’m just saying, I have other resources, connections… should you need to find something,”

Someone. 

Dottore was livid, he could feel his anger rising, and he could feel that strange anxiety begin to get worse from his soulmate’s end, but he couldn’t bring himself to care about that now--was it a taunt? A threat? Or a genuine offer of help? 

Either way, Dottore didn’t like it. No one should know about the thread tied around his thumb. No one should know that he had a soulmate. Did one of the segments let it slip? Did they mention it in public? It was possible, but Dottore doubted it--the younger segments were never around people and the older segments knew better, even Theta. They knew very well that even if they had no interest in meeting their soulmate after all of these years, that if their soulmate died, it would cause irreparable damage to all of them. 

They would not risk it. 

So then how-

“If you’re wondering how… I’m very observant, that’s all,” Pantalone interrupted his thoughts, watching him carefully. “I had to be, considering my lifestyle before you recruited me into the Fatui. Abrupt movements for no apparent reason, flinches, stiffening, sudden jerks… a gaze flickering down just a bit too often… tucking a thumb into your fist--I learned to watch for certain tells to find weak points in my enemies...”

Dottore unfisted his right hand immediately, not moving nor responding even as Pantalone stared at him expectantly, waiting for a response. He felt like a fool, and he hated feeling like a fool. He wanted to say something, make a dry comment about how yes, of course the way he held his hand meant that he had a soulmate, but his lips wouldn’t move and he wasn’t sure if responding would be more damning because Pantalone hadn’t even said the word soulmate yet anyway, only implied it.

“... but we are not enemies, so you need not worry. It’s not something I plan to use against you… just offering some extra resources. If you need them, just let me know,” Pantalone finally said, the heels of his boots clicking against the marble ground as he began to make his way past Dottore toward where Pierro and Capitano were waiting for him. “You know where to find me.”

Damn all of the subordinates looking for a quick promotion, Dottore had half a mind to kill Pantalone himself, right there in front of everybody. His rage was clouding his mind, a wicked storm about to break through the calm facade. He felt like he was young again, the years just after he was kicked out of the Akademiya when he was brewing with uncontrollable fury and a switch that could flip on or off at any given moment with no warning. 

He forced himself to leave. He would deal with the Jester and his complaints about his premature departure later, he was certain that if he remained there any longer, blood would be spilled and all of Dottore’s efforts to get himself more funding would go straight down the drain. 

He couldn’t tell anymore if the anxiety he was feeling was from himself or his soulmate. The corridor around him swayed like he was on a ship sailing through the rough, northern sea. He had been so careful to keep it hidden and the way he positioned his hand gave it away? There was no way. Pantalone had to have been throwing out a wild guess and hoping for confirmation--his only hope was that he had been able to keep his face devoid of the anger that was twisting his insides, that he hadn’t given Pantalone any reason to believe his suspicions had been correct. 

His chest felt tight--like he couldn’t breathe properly, which was ridiculous because he was breathing but it felt like he wasn’t getting enough air to his lungs. He didn’t know what this was. It was not something he had ever felt before, and that meant it had to be coming from them, his soulmate--he cursed himself for giving in to his own bout of emotion, a show of weakness that allowed their emotions to engulf his and he didn’t know how to fix it now that the spiral had begun. 

Unless it wasn’t emotions, and that was why it was so intense.

Were they getting strangled?

It didn’t make any sense, he would be able to feel the hands around their throat, the bruises forming against their skin. 

He leaned against the wall of the corridor he had escaped down, only dimly lit by a candle halfway down the hall--far enough from the event that he shouldn’t have to worry about anyone stumbling upon him while he was like this. He pulled off his mask, pressing a hand hard against his chest, right over where his heart would’ve been. 

Calm down, he wanted to spit out at them, his rage blending with his soulmate’s anxiety and fear. Calm down.

This was not the place. He could hear the Jester speaking in the distance, he could hear the crowds of people applauding dutifully at the official announcement of the Regrator’s position, he could see the shadows of people walking just a bit too close to the side hall for his own comfort. 

He was being overwhelmed, and he had never been overwhelmed by someone before, not like this. His fury was subsiding, being replaced by his soulmate’s intense surge of emotions. He had never felt anything like this before, and he wasn’t sure what it was or how to describe it. It felt as if the walls were closing in around him, as if someone was dragging jagged nails down the inside of his throat, as if his blood had turned into lead—thick and heavy, weighing his whole body down.

He couldn’t even tell what was wrong, he couldn’t tell if the pain was physical or emotional. Was his soulmate dying? Was that it? The thought made his stomach churn, wondering what that would mean for him, if he would become the husk that all widowers became after their mark went black. 

No, he told himself, you are stronger. 

The Captain was able to move on from the death of his soulmate. Dottore had seen the blackened mark himself when the man asked him to fix up his arm after a challenge had gone wrong years ago against one of the ancient gods of the far north. 

Had he moved on? Dottore questioned himself, or was he just a shell of himself, moving on autopilot to bring the divine to their knees before he could join his soulmate in the next life?

It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter whether or not Capitano had been able to move on because Dottore would--he was above man, above mortal. He refused to let something as inconsequential as the death of a stranger inhibit his research, and obstruct him from his goals. He refused to let nearly five hundred years go to waste. 

But he wasn’t sure, no matter how much he insisted to himself that it didn’t matter. He wasn’t confident he would be able to brush it off, and the uncertainty was damning because the thought of his soulmate—who would be no older than sixteen or seventeen now, a year or two older than the Gamma segment—dying such a brutal and untimely death made him sick to his stomach for reasons beyond just selfish ones, reasons that he didn’t dare try to delineate.

Celestia is cruel, he thought to himself as this situation forced him to come to terms with what he had been pushing away for over a decade. Because they were not just a stranger, so much as he tried to convince himself of it. Dottore was a pragmatic man at heart, and he knew himself very well, no matter how much the past twelve years have tested his sense of identity. From the moment he had noticed that thread and felt those childish little tugs, Dottore had formed an attachment to the person on the other side. He was selfish and possessive, and he had never in his life had something that was so fundamentally meant to be his before and he didn’t want the gods to take yet another thing from him--he convinced himself it was more out of pride, out of anger toward Celestia than out of fear. 

He had known it was too good to be true from the start. He knew that the gods would dangle his soulmate in front of his face like meat to a starved dog--it was why he was so intent on finding a way to sever the thread before this could happen. He knew that they would let him get accustomed to their distant presence, they would let him get accustomed to the goodnight tugs and the frequent swells of emotion that he was not capable of feeling on his own. They would even let it get to the point where he was beginning to accept it, noting down all of the words that were transferred to him in hopes to find clues regarding where they were… in hopes of getting to learn more about them—who they were, why they were meant to be his fated. 

He knew that they would let this all happen, and he knew that they would rip it away, and he let himself fall for the trap they had laid out anyway.

Dottore was a fool. He had always been one, but the past decade or so had truly made a comedy of it in the eyes of the divine. 

His fingers fumbled for the buttons on the cuff of his dress shirt, trying to see which words would be branded on his skin for eternity--to see if it would give any sort of hint as to who they were, or where they were, or what happened to them so if the opportunity ever arose, he could deal back tenfold to the person that did this.

Father

He paused, taken aback for a second. Was their father the perpetrator? If that was the case, it might not be all too hard to find the culprit--filicide was considered taboo across all seven nations… but Dottore had a feeling that it wasn’t so simple because him being startled at the word gave him the bit of clarity he needed to compartmentalize and digest all of the stray emotions tearing through him.

It was not physical pain, he realized, trying to pinpoint what exactly it was. He had gotten better at deciphering emotions over the past seven years, but whatever this was, it was still foreign to him. The only consolation he had was that he couldn’t feel his body weakening, he couldn’t feel any physical pain. The thread was still bright and very much connected to him.

And the intensity was fading--albeit at a snail’s pace, but it was fading. It was becoming something heavier, more oppressive, as if the weight of the world was being tossed onto his shoulders.

Grief, he slowly recognized, this must be grief.

Grief. He had never experienced grief before. Not like this. He had mourned failed experiments, he had mourned the loss of his resources, he had mourned wasted time but he had never experienced an emotion like this before.  

He felt relieved knowing that his soulmate was not, in fact, dying, knowing that he didn’t have to stress about figuring out how he was going to move on when Celestia damned all those who had lost their soulmates to desolation, knowing that he would not have to deal with his segments losing their minds over this but at the same time-

“Dottore.”

He was not even able to dwell on his train of thought, forced to try to compose himself as a familiar voice met his ears. Now back in control of himself, getting ahold of the unwelcome emotions still crawling around inside of him, Dottore could focus. He tucked away the feelings deep within him as he straightened, slipping his mask back on and rolling his sleeve down as discreetly as he could. 

He looked over his shoulder to where Brighella was standing several feet away, a glass of wine in his hand, green eyes beady and curious as he spoke, “Is something wrong?”

He spoke with a sort of faux care that made Dottore irrationally annoyed because he knew very well that it was just that--faux. He wanted something. Brighella always wanted something and Dottore wasn’t particularly in the mood to humor him this time, lips twisting down as the man brought it upon himself to draw closer to Dottore. 

“No,” Dottore answered shortly. “Why are you not attending the event?”

“I could ask the same of you,” Brighella’s response was challenging and quick. Dottore raised his eyebrows beneath his mask, not that Brighella could tell, but the other Harbinger quickly grew uncomfortable in the silence, letting out a sheepish laugh, nervous gaze flicking back and forth. “Ha, sorry. I’ve had a few drinks, you know how it gets-”

“I do not,” Dottore said, voice icy as he observed the man.

Dottore had never been particularly good at reading people. He spent more time in his lab than socializing, even during his years at the Akademiya, and the only use he found for humans once he joined the Fatui was utilizing them to make advances in his research. But he could tell something was off, Brighella’s eyes were too sharp--they didn’t have the drunken glaze that they usually did when the man had been drinking.

Was he faking it?

Dottore didn’t think so. Brighella reeked of alcohol, and he seemed off-balanced, and Dottore didn’t think that he could really fake much of anything to anyone, much less to Dottore. He was always skittish and anxious around higher-ranked members of the Harbingers, but something wasn’t sitting right with him. Dottore thought-

“Oh god, I didn’t mean-”

Dottore stared down at his stained clothes, at the red wine seeping through his white dress shirt, sticky against his skin. Dottore’s lips twisted, barely restraining the resurfacing fury and Brighella was panicked, stuttering over his words as he apologized, stumbling over his own feet as he searched for something to use as a cloth or napkin to clean up the mess he had made. 

Dottore only inhaled sharply, turning on his heel and ignoring the calls after him as he made his way down the hall in the direction of his quarters for the night. 

Tonight had been a trainwreck, he thought to himself bitterly. Between Pantalone, his soulmate, and now the drunkard that called himself a Harbinger, Dottore swore he was on the verge of losing his mind. 

Ever since the red thread had appeared on his thumb twelve years ago, he had been losing control. He was losing control of his segments, he was losing control of all of the carefully calculated plans he had created, he was losing control of himself, and tonight was proof enough of that. 

He was done. 

He would figure out a way to sever the damned thread before this got any further. It was too close of a call for comfort--he didn’t know how the death of his soulmate would affect him, and it was a gamble that he wasn’t willing to take. He couldn’t afford to let something like this happen again, especially in public. It made him seem weak in front of those that would use it against him—and Dottore was not weak. He was sick of being strung around like a marionette by the emotions of a child.

And if there was not a way to sever the thread, then he would make a way. 

reblogs appreciated!

[vaguesxrrow]

this was for a request for an edwin payne/gn reader dating hcs but i accidentally deleted the ask SORRYYY 😭😭 if you requested it here you go !!

edwin payne/reader dating hcs

a/n: there is nothing in this pertaining to the reader's gender but i'd like to clarify they are not a girl, as edwin is not attracted to women (to my knowledge)

reader can be read as either alive or dead

tags: gn!reader

what dating edwin payne would be like...

- before you started dating, or at the start of your relationship, edwin would be a little closed off (as is expected from him) but it was still obvious to everyone he had a soft spot for you

- even if he didnt outwardly show how taken with you he really was, it would be obvious through his actions alone

- on cases, he would especially watch out for your safety

- if you're sick or feeling even slightly unwell he will suggest you take a break from this case

- "i will come back to you. i promise." when you protest that he might need you there

- he'll give you long, long hugs when he returns

- lying in bed together after the case, facing each other, as he tells you about it

- would lay down with his head between your shoulder and neck, tracing patterns over your hand and wrist

- isn't terribly fond of pda but cheek kisses and hand holding, or linking your pinkies together are always on the table

- will also let you, and enjoy it when, you latch onto his arm

- this boy would totally try to court you

- at first his gifts would be typical types of gifts, like flowers or something expensive and fancy because he wants you to think highly of him

- but then one day he finds a silly stuffed animal he thinks you'd like and gives it to you

- you LOVE it ofc, and you dont waste a second in telling him

- he's a bit surprised but is happy you love it and would grin at you fully once you promise that yes, you really do think it's lovely

- after that, if he finds anything he knows you'll like, or if you say you want something, he WILL get it for you

- edwin taking you out on dates:

- he would put a lot of effort into your first date because, with all the running away from supernatural beings that want to kill you, he thinks both of you deserve a little normal

- imagine: a museum date, but at a kind of obscure museum that showcases ancient artifacts or something

- edwin would know a lot of facts about the different pieces and tell you about them

- however he will feel bad about going on too long, because this is your first date and he doesn't want to put you off already

- "i... apologise. i'm rambling."

- you: 'i don't mind. it's... attractive how smart you are."

- you were totally gonna say 'sexy' but is edwin really ready for that?? maybe not.

- then you kiss him before he can react, and his system kind of crashes (yeah, definitely not ready for 'sexy' just yet)

- he appreciates how you value his whole personality and genuinely love all parts of him

- he loves you just as much, if it wasn't obvious

- his love languages would probably be quality time and acts of service

- constantly making excuses to be near you

- "[ ] and i will go conduct some research in the library, the three of you can interview the witnesses."

- he thinks he's being subtle but charles, crystal, and niko always grin at you knowingly

- "have fun, lovebirds! try not to get distracted," <- coming from either of the other three, or maybe even all of them in unison

- edwin will splutter and blush

- once he realises there's no use in hiding how whipped he is for you, he'll outright say he wants to "go with his [boyfriend/partner]" to do whatever he wants to do

- he likes saying it out loud that you're together - it makes him feel giddy inside in a way no one else has before

- if you want a specific book for your research he'll take finding it very seriously

- you need a book from the top shelf? he's on it (like, literally on it, because if there's no step stool around he might actually climb the bookshelf)

- getting tired from your research? he'll mirror travel to a coffee shop and get you a drink and a sweet treat

- edwin would get jealous, and once he's secure in the relationship he would show it

- in the case of you being alive: imagine someone trying to flirt with you, maybe in the library or something from the earlier scenario

- he would knock over a book on purpose to spook the person who dared to flirt with HIS s.o

- when you tease him for it later he'll mutter something about being 'possibly a bit jealous.'

- it isn't that he doesn't trust you, as he will of course clarify, he's just very protective

[minispidey]

03: Barbie and the Giftshopist.

Steven Grant x f!bimbo!reader. previous part. series masterlist. next part.

03. Everyday she wears pink.

(A/n: your feedback on the last chapter about me writing the moon knight system is so amazing tysm! i referenced mpgis here and more legally blonde. i wanna note that reader has been a lawyer for a couple years now and amazing at it 🤸‍♀️ btw update tags are open!)

warnings: mention of cock, swearing and cursing, mention of blood.

the cock line is from my bubs @ominoose ily

"This isn't just a date. This is a date!" You told yourself as you threw random articles of clothing behind you as you hunted for a specific dress.

You thought maybe you shouldn't wear pink. Maybe you have a pretty dress he hasn't seen you in.

You barely slept due to excitement.

The way he talked and looked at you made you swoon over him. Just thinking about makes you-

You squealed as your leg involuntarily kicked up. You blinked twice in confusion "That is so weird..."

Maybe you were horny.

"Oh gosh, not again. Bad leg!" you scolded your beautiful leg as it kicks up again "Down girl, down! No nasty thoughts about... about... about the hot neighbor across us- no!"

You almost moaned at the though of his lips against yours... You shuddered as you kept remembering the way he looked at you. You laid down in the pool of clothing as you imagined how your little lunch date will go.

As usual, you two walked out of your flat at the same time, discussing where the two of you were going for lunch.

"Wetherspoons..." you parked your pink corvette outside, looking at the flowers decorating the place. Your high heels clicked on the pavement as you walked inside, still in your pink work suit despite planning on changing.

It was a busier day than you thought, but of course lunch time is important.

Your eyes lit up as you spotted Steven, sitting up rather stiff "Stevie!" you smiled as you walked over to his table "Hi, so sorry I'm a bit late. Traffic and all."

But Steven looked back at you with such a loving look in his eyes "It's alright, love. I haven't been waiting long."

The truth is, he thought you weren't gonna show up.

"Have you ordered yet? Gosh, you must be starved." you opened the menu and browsed.

"I haven't." he shook his head, opening his menu as well.

"Cross examination was a success." you smiled "Next week's the next trial with the witness."

Steven didn't know what you were talking about, it was out of context "That's great!" he responded.

"So then he was like no and I was like, you are. Then he was like no but then I was like you are! And he was like, I kinda am. So long story short he's like, totally gay." you said as you looked at your compact mirror.

"Thank gosh I figured it out, because no way can he say my Chanel is so last season when his shirt is so last year. My client was totally bugging, but we figured it out and I, like, totally won that. How about you, Stevie? How's your day?"

Steven smiled back at you "T'was alright, love. Just the usual." he says sarcastically "Donna's been a real-"

"Excuse my language— Bitch? Cunt? Pain in the ass?"

He chuckles "Yes. A pain in the arse, love."

"She always sounds like she's giving you a hard time. You sure you don't want me to talk to her?"

"I don't think it's lawyer-worthy. It's really alright, love." Steven shakes his head "Just another typical day."

"Yeah, which can be classified as workplace abuse."

"Really. I'm fine."

You press your glossy lips into a thin line before sighing "Alright. But if you need someone to represent you in court, I'm your girl." you playfully winked at him.

Steven blushed before nodding "I'll keep you in mind then." a waiter comes up to the two of you and he began to order "-and a cocktail. Uh, how about you?"

"Um, I'll have the Soup of the Day with half a baguette, and Pasta Pomodoro with salmon. And— wait did you say a cocktail?" you blinked twice at Steven "I'll have a cocktail too, thank you."

You smiled at the waiter as he repeated the order to you two before walking away.

"Jeez, Stevie. It's only lunchtime." you giggled at him.

"I-I just wanted something strong."

"Work's really stressful, huh?"

"It really is." he sighed "Working late again tonight. But this uh lunch date is really cheering me up."

Your cheeks felt hot, making you smile "That's so sweet... tell you what, I'll pick you up from work tonight again. I'm working late too anyways."

It was Steven's turn to blush. His hand shakes with his head "You're way too nice. I don't wanna bother you. It's quite overwhelming too." even his ears turned red.

"Steven, you shouldn't turn away blessings." you winked as you giggled. Your cocktails were served just a few minutes later.

"I haven't had a cock in a while."

Steven felt his drink rush to his nose and he quickly grabbed a napkin. He coughs a few times before looking up at you.

"Oopsies, I meant a cocktail." you covered your mouth, smiling "Well, I mean... I haven't had that in a while either."

You took a sip of the drink and Steven stared at the lipstick mark left on the edge of the glass. You always wore a certain shade of lipstick, and it always drove him crazy.

There were times he'd imagine smudging your lipstick... in more ways than one.

After lunch, the two of you laughed as you drove to the museum. Steven just kept falling more and more into your wonderland of pink and diamonds. He stared at you with half-lidded eyes, listening to every word you said.

The thing about Steven is that he loves to ramble and talk a lot, and so do you. He knew you were perfect.

"-and I was like, thank gosh I talked her out of buying an orange chiffon scarf. It doesn't suit her spring tones at all! There's a fine line between terracotta and brown."

That evening, your pink corvette was parked outside of the museum, waiting patiently for Steven after a long day of reading case papers. You puckered out your lips to reapply some lipstick before popping and smiling at your reflection.

Your freshly manicured nails tapped on the steering wheel while humming a small tune.

Then suddenly someone knocks on your window.

"Steven?"

He looked like he was roughed up, red staining his clothes, but it's not his blood. It didn't even look like the same clothes he was wearing during your lunch date.

"Oh my gosh, Steven-"

...but that's actually not your main concern.

"-I told you, blue and black as a combo is a total crime against fashion. If it were me, I'd make it law." you groaned, opening the locks of your car "Get in."

His eyes widened but he doesn't respond, only taking the passenger's seat like you commanded.

"Oh, you have a little stain there." you pat the patch of blood using a pink handkerchief with lace trim and your name embroidered on the corner.

He continued to stare at you as you took his hand and placing your handkerchief on his palm "Here. You can give it back to me some other time because I seriously I need to take you shopping this weekend."

You thought maybe he's always tired after work, that's why he's so quiet, like yesterday.

"Maybe I can figure out your color palette so I know what looks best on you. Your shirts are cute, I'd have to admit, but some of them are... meh. No offense but some prints are worse than the last. OH! I know, we'll do a whole shopping day on the weekend. An hour or so won't cut it. I know it's your weekend off, but trust me when I say when your pretty neighbor's a fashionista, your life is gonna change."

Steven looks at you from the mirror's reflection before shifting his eyes towards the body— Jake. Unlike Marc's creepy silent behavior from the night before, Jake actually looks at you as you went on and on.

He even responds with small nods.

"Can we not make this a habit? First it's Marc pretending to be me in front of her, now it's you. I don't need your help with her. Can I please go in my own pace?" Steven tells Jake, but Jake shook his head in a not now kind of motion.

As Jake entered the apartment after waving goodnight to you, he's met with a poor attempt of a glare from Steven "Don't look at me like that, you wanted the girl so I gave it a push."

"I want to do this on my own. Marc doesn't want me to, I don't know about you, but I don't need help. Can I please do it my way? It's all I ask."

"Can you ask her out?"

Steven pressed his lips into a line before letting out a sigh "Give me the body. I'll... try."

"Alright, alright. You go on ahead."

Steven, now in control of the body, swung open the door and he sees you struggling to find your keys. You blinked twice before smiling at him "Hi again, Stevie. My keys are just- ugh, a lot." your keychains jingle as you tried to find the right key.

"Can we go on a date after shopping this weekend?" he blurts out quickly. Steven was red as a tomato "D-Dinner date."

Your eyes lit up and you felt the butterflies in your stomach again "I'd love that! I'll just- oh! I found my key!"

And you also found the key to your locked-up heart.

UP NEXT: the best weekend ever! a date with steven and a little breaking and entering 💅

tags: @red-hydra @monsterroonio @pastelpinkpilatesprincess @letmehavemyfictionalmen @uncle-eggy @superduckmilkshake @3zae-zae3

[creekfiend]

I am so so on board with Electoral Politics Can't Fix This and trust me I am very frustrated by people shouting THIS IS WHY YOU SHOULD VOTE! about stuff that is, like, inherent to the evils of capitalism and The State

but I am also tired of pretending like who wins the US presidential election doesn't have any material impact on anybody

the amount I spend thinking about what my life would be like without the ACA: a lot

I would probably have been forced to go bankrupt to get any care. that's just what happened with preexisting conditions before ACA.

I'm also tired of acting like "fantasizing about how much Less Bad stuff might be if Clinton had got to pick the last few supreme court justices" is evil or whatever

like I Hate This System and my well-being and the well-being of millions of other people should not fucking be dependent on it + YES EVERY PRESIDENT WILL BE EVIL AND THEY WILL ALL ENGAGE IN A SET NUMBER OF VERY EVIL ACTIONS NO MATTER WHO THEY ARE DUE TO THE UNITED STATES DOING EVIL THINGS. WE KNOW THIS

but statements like "my life is materially better than it would have been if Obama had not won those elections" aren't like, statements about valuing electoral politics

they're statements about it being fucked up that we live in this reality AND ALSO WE DO LIVE IN THIS REALITY

I just feel like if we can't be like voting is temporary harm reduction and that actually doesn't not matter then we just want stuff to get Worse and Worse as fast as possible and I am aware that that is also a political stance some people have but as a disabled person,

as my good friend Alex once said to some anticiv anarchists,

I really can't get behind a revolution that requires me to be dead!

anyway. I'm so tired of navigating the healthcare system and I want to kill people rn

[ell0ra-br3kk3r-writes]

The Phoenix and the Crow

part thirty-two

pairing: kaz brekker x fem!reader

genre: neutral

el's thoughts: again, thank you for being so patient with meee!! from a writing aspect, i'm almost done with the series! and it's wilddd i'm currently finishing up chapter thirty-five and my heart hurts knowing that i'm kinda almost done..

masterlist

Y/N stared silently at Kaz while he watched Inej intently, his bitter coffee eyes glittering in the light from the dome.

Inej explained how the costumes would be their masks. How the Fjerdans would only see a Suli lynx and a Kaelish mare. Not people, not even really girls, just lovely objects to be collected.

“It’s a risk,” said Kaz.

“What job isn’t?”

“Kaz, how are you, Matthias and Y/N going to get through?” asked Nina. “We might need you for locks, and if things go bad on the island, I don’t want to be stranded. I doubt you can pass yourselves off as members of the houses.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem,” said Kaz. “Helvar’s been holding out on us.”

“Have you?” asked Y/N.

“It’s not-” Matthias dragged a hand over his cropped hair. “How do you know these things, demjin?” he growled at Kaz.

“Logic. The whole Ice Court is a masterpiece of fail-safes and doubled systems. That glass bridge is impressive, but in an emergency, there would have to be another way to get reinforcements to the White Island and get the royal family out.”

Y/N and Jesper shared a smirk at the sight of Matthias’ baffled expression.

“Yes,” said Matthias in exasperation. “There’s another way to the White Island. But it’s messy.” He glanced at Nina. “And it certainly can’t be done in a gown.”

“Hold on,” Jesper interrupter. “Who cares if you can all get onto the White Island? Let’s say Nina sparkles Yul-Bayur’s location out of some Fjerdan higher-up, and you get him back here. We’ll be trapped/ By then, the prison guards will have completed their search and are going to know seven inmates got out of the sector somehow. Any chance we have of making it through the embassy gates and the checkpoints will be gone.”

Kaz peered past the dome to the embassy’s open courtyard and the ringwall gatehouse beyond.

“Wylan, how hard would it be to disable one of these gates?”

“To get it open?”

“No, to keep it closed.”

“You mean break it?” Wylan shrugged. “I don’t think it would be too difficult. I couldn’t see the mechanism when we entered the prison gate, but from the layout, I’m guessing it’s pretty standard.”

“Pulleys, cogs, some really big screws?”

“Well, yes, and a sizable winch. The cables wrap around it like a big spool, and the guards just turn it with some kind of handle or wheel.”

“I know how a winch works. Can you take one apart?”

“I think so, but it’s the alarm system the cables are attached to that’s complicated. I doubt I could do it without triggering Black Protocol.”

“Good,” said Kaz. “Then that’s what we’ll do.”

Jesper held up a hand. “I’m sorry, isn’t Black Protocol the thing we want to avoid at all costs?”

“I do seem to remember something about certain doom,” said Nina.

“Not if we use it against them.” Y/N spoke up causing Kaz to give her a nod. “Tonight, most of the Court’s security is concentrated on the White Island and right here at the embassy. When Black Protocol sounds, the glass bridge will shut down, trapping all those guards on the island along with the guests.”

“But what about Matthias’ rout off the island?” asked Nina.

“They can’t move a major force that way,” Matthias conceded. “At least not quickly.”

Kaz gazed out at the White Island, head filter, eyes slightly unfocused.

“Scheming face,” Inej murmured.

Y/N nodded. “Definitely.”

“Three gates in the ringwall,” Kaz said. “The prison gate is already locked up tight because of Yellow Protocol. The embassy gate is a bottle neck crammed with guests—the Fjerdans aren’t going to get the troops through there. Jesper, that just leaves the gate in the druskelle sector for you and Wylan to handle. You use it to engage Black Protocol, then wreck it. Break it badly enough that any guards who manage to mobilize can’t get out to follow us.”

“I’m all for locking the Fjerdans in their own fortress,” said Jesper. “Truly. But how do we get out? Once we trigger Black Protocol, you guys will be trapped on that island, and we’ll be trapped in the outer circle. We have no weapons and no demo materials.”

Kaz’s grin was sharp as a razor. “Thank goodness we’re proper thieves. We’re going to do a little shopping—and it’s all going on Fjerda’s tab.”

~

Y/N looked at her strange crew, barefoot and shivering in their soot-stained prison uniforms, their features limned by the golden light of the dome, softened by the mist that hung in the air.

What bound them together? Greed? Desperation? Was it just the knowledge that if one or all of them disappeared tonight, no one would come looking? Maybe Nikolai would send a few troops to search but that was out of duty. Y/N had no one to shed a tear and mourn her life. She had no family, no parents, no siblings, only people to fight beside. And she knew that was always something to be grateful for, too.

It was Jesper who spoke first. “No mourners,” he said with a grin.

“No funerals,” they replied in unison. Even Matthias muttered the words softly.

“If any of you survive, make sure I have an open casket,” Jesper said as he hefted two slender could of rope over his shoulder and signaled for Wylan to follow him across the roof. “The world deserves a few more moments with this face.”

Y/N was only slightly surprised to see the intensity of the look that passed between Matthias and Nina. Something had changed between them after the battle with the Shu, but she couldn’t be sure what.

Matthias cleared his throat and gave Nina an awkward little bow. “A word?” he asked.

Nina returned the bow with considerably more panache, and let him lead her away.

Inej gave the inferni a soft smile and slipped the recognizable pair of black leather gloves into her hands. The Suli nodded towards Kaz and slipped away to wait for Nina.

Y/N turned to face him and walked to his side.

“I have something for you,” she said as she held out his gloves.

He stared at them. “How-”

“I got them from the discarded clothes and gave them to Inej before she made the climb.”

He pulled the gloves on slowly, and she watched his pale, vulnerable hands disappear beneath the leather. They were trickster hands—long, graceful fingers made for prying open locks, hiding coins, making things vanish.

“When we get back to Ketterdam, I’m heading back to Ravka right away.”

He looked away. “You should. You’re too good for the Barrel anyway.”

She hummed and closed her eyes tightly in frustration. She didn’t know what she expected from him but she wanted more.

He reached down to hold her wrist. “Y/N.” His gloved thumb moved over her pulse, tracing the top of a burn scar she got when she miss caught her first flame. “If we don’t make it out, I want you to know … ”

She waited. She felt hope rustling its wings inside her, ready to take flight at the right words from Kaz. She willed that hope into stillness. Those words would never come. Hope is dangerous.

She reached up and touched his cheek. She thought he might flinch again, even pull away from her. He let her hand cup his cheek. His skin was cool and damp from the rain. He stayed still, just barely leaning closer to her warm touch.

“If we don’t survive this night, I will die unafraid, Kaz. Can you say the same?”

His eyes were nearly black, the pupils dilated. She could see his dazed gaze focus back onto her, still not pulling away. She knew it was the best he could offer at the moment and she nodded softly.

She dropped her hand. He took a deep breath.

Kaz had said he didn’t want her prayers and she wouldn’t speak them, but she wished his safe and sane nonetheless.

Matthias stood a few feet away from the pair, grabbing the Inferni’s attention.

“Let’s go, Kaz.”

~*~

taglist: @katherinereid @littlecat21 @jahayla-parker @maliciousbrekker @brekkershadowsinger @brekkers-desigirl @clunaes @wonderland2425 @bookloverfilmoholic @karensirkobabes @bookworm-center @el-de-phi @so-get-this-sammy @skittleabyss @crispy-croke @cometsghost @auttumnsayshi

[kobitoshiningneedle]

My fandom hot take is: Ace Attorney has legal corruption as a theme and no idea what it's doing with it. It starts as a pretty straightforward "the legal system is unfair and slated towards the defence, prosecutors care about nothing but guilty verdicts and routinely forge evidence, you are the underdog attorney performing miracles" before retconning that the two major prosecutors implied to have forged evidence didn't do it on purpose after all, instead pinning it on higher officials, which at once widens the scope of the universe and makes the corruption run much deeper, but also somewhat "exonerates" the prosecutors of their more blatant wrongdoings (although not of all of them). And then after that, it makes two defence attorneys, including our heroes, into forgers, which itself is never retconned. And then there's this whole impersonating officers thing and it just goes completely sideways. It makes no sense. It's fascinating.

A really interesting question! The thematic inconsistency in Ace Attorney is really palpable, despite having some of the most comprehensive stories, so I'm with you on this one

Strongly agree | Agree | Neutral | Disagree | Strongly disagree

There are many, many Doylist reasons as to why the theme of corruption gets thrown from one side to the other, but saying that "Well yeah DD is kinda shit without nuance because it wasn't written by Takumi" would be a low-hanging fruit in terms of criticism. So I will try to compile my scattered thoughts about this topic here with another approach.

Seems like as a series Ace Attorney has this "protagonist biased" fault. We are rooting for Phoenix when he tricks Furio Tigre with the bottle. And we are supposed to be mad at Edgeworth for coaching Bellboy to deliberately misinform the court. And considering that, we can't even say that the series tried to imply the "defense attorney always good, prosecutor always bad" type of mindset - despite being first and foremost a game with a necessary element of satisfaction of defeating a malicious foe - because in the very first game there's Robert Hammond. And some time later we see Klavier Gavin. Apollo was a protagonist, so presenting the bloody ace was never called out. Meanwhile Edgeworth has entire drama around him handling SL-9. So that's why in my opinion this is exactly protagonist bias, when you win a game against Edgeworth and prove that this pink suit indeed tried to coach Bellboy to give a false testimony you get a portion of serotonin. The same serotonin runs through your brain when this sleazy new lawyer character gets caught.

But when you think about the grander scope, the things start getting sketchy.

In my opinion, it all can boil down to one sentiment, that again stems from the essence of this series - it's a game, and a story with black-while morals (yes, even games like Apollo Justice are pretty clear cut about who's in the right and who is not in my opinion). So it's a given that the protagonist will do things for the good of others. And the antagonists (which are often the prosecutors) will hinder that objective. So it's much more understandable that Phoenix will use tricks when he was trying to corner a loan shark who manipulated many people, or when he tried to bring the man who ruined his career and lives of others to justice. And with Edgeworth in SL-9 and Manfred in IS-7 is more like a flashback material, a foundation that have its story being built upon. SL-9 was a past case that doesn't quite have this urgency of saving a friend. And Manfred tried to put an innocent man in the jail anyway. I don't really like both of these (in my opinion) retcons, because they make the things unnecessarily complicated and REALLY rob Miles and Mandfred from their agency in some capacity whatsoever - but your writeup makes me think that my distaste could be precisely because these plot points have some serious implications which makes the inherent story structure of AA to bite more than it could chew. Anyway "you can use some tricks if it's helping people" is a pretty concise message that may encapsulate this conundrum...

...which is understandable in a game and a heroic, but an utter rubbish if we detach ourselves from the protagonists' POV. Like, even Edgeworth was truly believing he's doing the right thing in his early career. Besides even the "helping other people" part is fluctuating between different representatives of one profession. Phoenix is called out by Edgeworth in 2-4 becuse defense attorneys aren't heroes and they just make sure everyone is tried fairly. But only 4 games later we got a character who represents this message - Raymond Shie Eddie Fender. I probably derailed your ask beyong possible, but this too, is an argument of how inconsistent the series in its priorities.

I hope there is at least one comprehensive thought about this matter, because this issue is something that could be explored and discussed from very different perspectives... And here I mused about how and why these inconsistencies work, but all in all, I agree that there's no clear-cut stance in the series about what is corrupt and what is not even within one writer team's works

[contemplatingoutlander]

THIS is the cognitive test that both Trump and Biden should take!

A cognitive test to be president? Sure. Try this one.

Alexandra Petri has outdone herself in coming up with a "cognitive test" that presidential candidates should pass before they can be elected.😁 This is a gift🎁link so people can read the entire article even if they don't subscribe to The Washington Post.

Below are some "select" items from the test:

Over the past several weeks, it has been proposed that the leading candidates for president of the United States be administered cognitive tests to determine their mental acuity. This, generally, is worrying. Under the circumstances, however, it is a good idea. I suggest that each candidate answer the following: 1. What year is it? 2. What country do you live in? 3. Is that country a democracy or a dictatorship? 4. Let’s get that in writing, please. 5. Put the following words in the correct order: respecting an establishment of religion Congress shall make no law. 6. Draw a person. 7. Draw a fertilized egg. 8. Are the two different? 9. Draw a clock. 10. How many minutes from midnight is this clock? 11. Is it good or bad that it is that close to midnight? 12. Who is the president now? 13. Who won the last presidential election? 14. Should these answers be the same? [...] 16. Here is a picture of Vladimir Putin. Can you see any friends in this picture? [...] 19. Here is a picture of the Supreme Court. Circle the people on it who owe you, personally, favors, if the system is functioning as it should. 20. How many terms does the president get to serve? [...] 22. Should the president’s children get jobs in the administration? 23. What year is it again? 24. Is this a year when we have a king? 25. Make a perfect phone call. [...] 27. Where is Kate Middleton? Oh, just figured I’d ask. 28. Do you know how much money you are worth? 29. What number world war comes next? [...] 32. Does the United States have a dictator? 33. What about just for Day 1 of an administration? [If yes, ask questions 33a through 33e. If no, proceed to Question 34.] 33a. Really? Are you serious? 33b. What do you mean “stop asking questions”? 33c. Or else what? 33d. *palely* Yes, understood, would you like to proceed directly to Question 34? 33e. What can an informed citizenry facing two candidates who are both flawed but not at all equivalently dangerous do to stop this? 34. Draw another clock.

Use the gift link to read the rest of the items on this "cognitive test." You might also want to take the time to read the comments, especially the additional "items" readers think should be on the test.😂

[wuxiaphoenix]

Worldbuilding: Collapsing Empires

One of our classic stories is the band of Plucky Rebels against the Evil Empire. I will boldly go on record as saying I love these stories. Who doesn’t want to cheer on the rag-tag determined heroes fighting against overwhelming odds? (See Star Wars, The Last Starfighter, The Magnificent Seven, and so many others.)

On the other hand I also read history, and so there’s something I’ve noticed. While the urge to create an empire seems to be a human constant, individual empires always fall. Eventually.

I’m sure there are many reasons for this. I’ll give you a few I’ve noticed; you can probably suggest more. The three I’ve got are environmental shifts, out of context problems, and the elite desire to stay in power at all costs.

Each of these can, of course, feed into the others. Here’s a few examples.

Environmental shifts are nasty. Some are from human land use - deforestation and gold or lead mining do numbers on large areas - but others are just the solar system giving you a Bad Era. To be very general, our climate tends to alternate between periods of warmer and more predictable weather, and cooler, less predictable weather patterns. (You can in fact have a scorching drought or a dozen in an Ice Age. It’s just on average cooler.)

Empires tend to get started and grow during the good times, to the point they’re right on the edges of their ecological limits as to how many people can make a living without starving. And then a bad spot hits. And things go sideways. As they say of bankruptcies, first slowly, then all at once. Famines usually start in some spots, and the empire handles it, getting ever more stressed - and then worse weather sparks floods and mudslides, and out of that ecological havoc you tend to get plagues, and between plague and famine you can’t feed or levy enough troops.... And then law and empires collapse as everyone scrambles madly to survive and people who were on the empire’s borders try to make out like a bandit. Pun fully intentional.

A “sudden” (usually over decades) climate change might be considered an out of context problem... but I had more direct and weirder things in mind. At one point, for example, we had archaeological evidence that the Luwian Kingdom might have been wiped out by a comet strike. Current archaeology thinks not, but the scenario still remains possible for fiction. Not to mention the scholarly wrangling over what really happened to Sodom and Gomorrah. It looks like the real-life cities were on a very oil-rich plain. So theoretically, if a meteor shower came down and punched a few holes....

But you don’t have to look to outer space. Cortez and other conquistadores showed up from across the Atlantic with a deep history of warfare that was an extremely out of context problem for the Aztecs, Incas, and many more. (Yes, diseases played a big role. But historically the conquistadores legit beat local armed forces high, wide, and handsome.) Joseon Korea and Tokugawa Japan had similar problems with the rest of the world. Anna and the King is a fictionalized version of the King of Siam trying to ease his kingdom into a soft landing in the modern world. I can only imagine the battles he must have had with his court over that.

Which leads to the third reason I see empires fall. If a ruler wants to keep ruling, and doesn’t trust his people, he has to make sure no one else is strong enough to oppose him. But keeping everyone too weak to fight you means that sooner or later, they’re too weak and corrupt to fight someone else.

And on the edges of an empire, there is always Someone Else.

Side note: This is one of many reasons I think a republic is the best government to create and maintain a nation. Ideally we have people in power getting overthrown all the time. We just do it on an agreed-upon regular basis. Unfortunately that was also supposed to apply to all bureaucracy....

Anyway. If you’re writing Plucky Rebels against the Evil Empire, go for it! But you might want to also poke some history and see if any of these real-world factors apply. Smart rebels take advantage of an existing crisis! Just ask Li Zicheng.

Though note what happened to him....

[maria-sand-22]

People angry with rhys for assigning cassian to nesta damage control and rehabilitation and angry with cassian for being to strict and harsh with her and not making excuses for her behaviours is insane

You really just want rhysand to release nesta into velaris when she took more power from the cauldron than she can handle so she can roam amongst the fae children of his court that she hates so much? If I found out that the leader of my nation released his drunken impulsive abusive racist against our race suster in law who is also overpowered and capable of k*lling us all I'd be rioting the next day.

For all he knew as well there wasn't anyone in his IC who wasn't in danger around her except cassian, he's her mate rhysand probably can't imagine any fae would be capable of harming their mate whether they want them or not.

And for the people thinking nesta wasn't that bad and wasn't a danger to the people of velaris feyre didn't mind killing a fae man she didn't know for the simple crime of being fae, nesta hated fae 50 times more than feyre with 50 times less compassion and Impulse control than her, and for all rhysand knew from feyre's memories she was the devil himself nobody was safe around her except the person she physically couldn't bring herself to hurt;

- she literally never cared about feyre's life when the beast came to take her she only protected elain while letting feyre get taken

- she would constantly verbally abuse feyre to the point of irreversible damage to her character and self esteem

“His snarl set the flames of the candles guttering. 'You aren't what I had in mind for a human- believe me.'

I could almost feel the wound deep in my chest as it ripped open and all those awful, silent words came pouring out. Illiterate, ignorant, unremarkable, proud, cold- all spoken from Nesta's mouth, all echoing in my head with her sneering voice."

"I needed new boots, but Elain needed a new cloak, and Nesta was prone to crave anything someone else possessed."

"[...] I glanced at Nesta’s stillshiny pair by the door. Beside hers, my too-small boots were falling apart at the seams, held together only by fraying laces."

“What do you know?” Nesta breathed. “You’re just a half-wild beast with the nerve to bark orders at all hours of the day and night. Keep it up, and someday—someday, Feyre, you’ll have no one left to remember you, or to care that you ever existed.”

She refused to help even though everyone was in danger. “Find somewhere else,” Nesta said again, straight-backed. “I don’t want them in my house. Or near Elain.”

On top of that, Nesta loves to read and she never wanted to teach her younger sister how to read, but there was no problem in encouraging Feyre to hunt while Nesta herself was sitting at home.

"The story is told from Feyre's point of view and she may not have interpreted it correctly." Yes, because there are really many interpretations for your older sister to leave you to die while hugging the other sister. Thank you, next.

If Nesta was a man he would've been an irredeemable monster after acosf, because for an abuser she never truly redeemed herself or expressed any true remorse through actions rather than internal thoughts

Remorseful abusers don't try to hurt their victims further by dragging their reputation through the mud when they take them into their new home

Remorseful abusers don't try to attack or alienate their victims support system

Remorseful abusers don't try to rationalise or excuse 5heir abuse

They simply accept that they F'ed up and live with and accept the consequences of their actions such as their victim struggling to trust them again, their victims loved ones disliking them or never forgiving them, etc..

[monstrous-fusion]

Can you share your favorite fun facts about the blorbos?

Oh man, it's really hard to choose! I've got quite a few little niche facts about the Links!! So I'll just list one for each Link 🫶🏽 Hopefully I'll do it in alphabetical order </3

Artisan still lives with the Tailor's family! They work under her apprenticeship, rather than her husband, and they're much happier as a tailor than they were as a blacksmith. (actually also adding that Artisan keeps in contact with the other heroes from Triforce Heroes :D they're Crimson and Sapphire!

Engie is really big into herpatology on the side. His first love is definitely trains (and Zelda, I guess) but he loves picking up injured reptiles that he sees and nursing them back to health! His favourite type of reptile is a snake and he loves rainbow boas :D

Eras actually really enjoys cooking. Before being enlisted into the Hyrulean army, he wanted to be a chef. Being a hero swept him up and he's been too ensnared by court theatre to ever even think about his dreams a chef. He can still cook up a mean pumpkin soup though.

Faye has far more tattoos than meets the eye--and yes, those...tend to bleed too. Their blood has a strange blue tint to it that translates through their scars too. (side bar but I do actually have a diagram with the tattoos so I'm adding that too)

Feathers has a loftwing named Azul. He thinks he's very smart and funny for naming the Red Loftwing a shade of blue.

Green, in Minish's system, is incredibly paranoid. He's a huge motherhen and very protective of his system, and they constantly keep a moon pearl attached to their necklace. Just in case! They also keep a mysterious shell on their necklace as well...for luck.

Due to excessive magic use as a kid, Mirror suffers through severe chronic pain. He has a cane in his bag for days when flare ups are so bad he could barely walk. That doesn't stop him from continuing to use magic, he just has to use it very sparingly.

Tune lives full time in Tetra's crew. He values her expertise and knowledge and respects her more than anyone--besides his grandmother, of course. He's adamant that she's the strongest (and coolest) person he knows. (also, since I couldn't pick which fact I wanted to write, I'm adding that he is OBSESSED with cats. The Ship cats practically own him

Kind of a random detail in my AU, but Agitha is the one who helped Rancher realise she's a girl and helped her be confident in her body! They collect bugs together and Rancher definitely doesn't know a lot about them, but she LOVES hearing Agitha infodump about them.

Wild is a lone wolf by design. It's not like he intends to be that way, but he just. Always feels like a passive observer of his own life and accidentally drifts away from groups without realising it. Because of it, he can blend into the background very well.

Zonau has not talked to someone in literal decades. He isolated himself to do the goddesses know what, and kind of sucks at socialising as a result. It's just super out of practise. It's a little bit of a hermit crab.

Oh!! and I also have. playlists that I'm making for my Links too :D but I'll add those when I'm actually finished them </3

[little-peril-stories]

Blood Garnet - WIP Intro

it's a working title leave me alone

Aka: WIP Wednesday / Vaguely Summarized WIP / I'm Desperately Trying to Get This Dumb Story Out of My System

DISCLAIMER: this stupid story is a silly, self-indulgent mess that would require a lot of hard work to make it, um, fit for human consumption. It was my little brain break between finishing The Queen of Lies and restarting The Court of Rogues. It may not ever get finished. 🤷‍♀️ So, uh, you're forewarned. 😇

OPEN TAG for WIP Wednesday, Vaguely Summarized Plot, or both 😊- there's a lot of nonsense in here so I feel bad subjecting even more people to it 😂

Let's use this cheeky lil post for some recent WIP Wednesday tags: Thank you @kaylinalexanderbooks and @sleepywriter00 for the tags! Posts here and here (same post chain).

Rules: Pick a WIP. Post something about it. On a Wednesday. Or whenever! It can be literally anything! 😊 (It does NOT need to be extra as this😅.)

Mood Board

don't anyone say anything about how there isn't a single gemstone on this mood board

What's It About?

Take a drink every time you see an element Kate's used before in other stories. 😅

Evyn, a schoolteacher, impulsively embarks on a journey in an effort to escape the chokehold of her small village, overbearing uncle, and inevitable (and unwanted) fate as someone’s happy little wife. It’s risky, of course: wild animals roam the woods, and she still doesn’t know the source of the mysterious lights that gleam through the darkness at night. However, she gets more than she bargained for—the forest is not what it seems, nor are those mystical yellow lights.

The Fae, creatures of legend, are real.

And they’re coming for her.

Vaguely Summarized Plot

Also using up another tag here! Thank you @mysticstarlightduck for this one! Posts here and here. The tag is kind of perfect for this seeing as I don't know much of the plot myself, so I have no choice but to be vague. :)

Rules: Summarize your WIP in 15 2-5 word bullet points (as if you were trying to summarize it in 15 seconds). (I didn't stick to the limit at all.)

✨ “So the forest's been kind of glowing lately? And no one but me seems to have noticed? Ok. Coolcoolcool.”

✨ “Get married? Me? Never!” Evyn Edition: Simply Not Interested But I Must Be Lying Because All Women Want to Get Married, Amirite?

✨ “Get married? Me? Never!” Jonathan Edition: Very Not Straight But Try Telling That To My Religious Zealot of a Father

✨ Jealous twin will NOT let his sister win control of their clan like she wins everything else, damn it (footnote 1)

✨ Emo loner who can’t go home (on pain of death) just wants these weird dreams about some random-ass human to please STOP (footnote 2)

✨ “I’m going to pursue independence! In another town! On a time crunch! By walking through the woods! At night! I’m a schoolteacher with no survival experience! This Is A Good Idea!”

✨ Grumpy grandma re: pesky human: What is her deal?

✨ “Hello yes hi I’m the emo loner. I’m unrealistically attractive. I saved you for reasons I won’t explain. But also I don’t talk to humans. Or Fae, really. Or. Like. Anyone. Not often anyway. What’s talking again?”

✨ “So, like, you're kind of hot … but you’re, uh, my enemy?? But I haven't figured that out yet?? And also, do we, like, have weird sexual tension, haha, or is it just me? Hahahaha! … But seriously, do we?”

✨ "Hey I know you have breathing issues or whatever, so you don’t like dusty or dirty or humid places, but … wanna take a shortcut through this super duper cool underground cave system?”

✨ “Haha, what? No?! There’s no reason I’m avoiding this area of the forest! Nope! No reason at all!”

✨ YOU get a betrayal! And YOU get a betrayal! And YOU get a—

✨ “Who is the monster and who is the man?” (footnote 3)

✨ This asylum makes the one in TQOL look like a vacation! (footnote 4)

✨ Sexy villainess gets to emotionally torture one MC and then physically torture another. AND psychologically torture them both! Hell, maybe she’ll even kill one of ’em too! Fun for the whole family!

Footnotes

(1) IT’S NOTHING LIKE ZUKO AND AZULA SHUT UP

(2) IT’S NOTHING LIKE RHYSAND AND FEYRE SHUT UP

(3) IT’S NOTHING LIKE QUASIMODO AND FROLLO SHUT—oh who am I kidding 🎶

(4) Technically the whole asylum thing happened in this story first, like, 2 or 3 years ago. That version just lives in a purple notebook that will never be seen by any eyes but mine. So, really, TQOL stole the asylum setting from BG, not the other way around.

Character Vibes

Evyn, human, orphaned as a child and raised by her aunt and uncle. Now a schoolteacher who sees yellow lights no one else can see.

“My heart cannot be captured. I intend to die an old maid, surrounded by papers and books. Good afternoon!”

Jonathan, human. Evyn's cousin, a clerk. Just truckin' on through a life he finds endlessly tedious and unsatisfying.

“Cecil’s a soggy piece of tree bark in a hat,” he said before he could stop himself.

Ah, Jonathan Garnet. A man who gained a single speck of favour with his impossible-to-please father…and promptly hurled it into the wind.

Dharan, Fae. Exiled from his clan years ago for murdering another Fae.

The Fae leapt up, standing straight and bending his knees as if to run—or perhaps pounce. One hand hovered over the stolen knife on his belt; the other, he extended to her.

He looked away from his foe to meet her gaze, uttering a single word:

“Run.”

Rennith, Fae. Heir to his clan but competing for the title against his twin sister.

He was a man, it seemed, but those eyes bespoke something much more ancient—of man, but not man himself. Silver hair, an impossible shade, framed a face sculpted into sharp angles, as cold and pale as if it were made of ice.

A Fae creature forged in primordial fire, carved from gold, silver, and mother-of-pearl.

For the Whump People Here:

Whumpy Things I've Managed to Squeeze into the First 13,000 words

Humiliation/embarrassment (minor)

Hyperventilation, dyspnea

Angst (minor)

Grabbed in the dark

Abducted

Restrained (but make it magic)

Magically forced to obey commands

Chin grab

Whumpy Things I've Got Planned But Haven't Written

Angst (major)

Stabbed

Various fight-related injuries I won't know till I write them

Betrayed by someone you trust

Drugged/knocked out

Humiliation/embarrassment (major)

Imprisoned

Taunted by the antagonist

More magic restraints (but turn it up to eleven)

Tortured (but make it magic)

Desperation, hitting rock bottom

A death fakeout or two or three

If you made it this far, you deserve a medal. 🥇

[smolandweirdwriter]

ok so I’ve been posting a lot about s/jm a lot but shutup I have a lot of angry feelings rn bc she was such a big inspiration for me during the time i began writing the book im currently editing and i’m trying to purge myself of her shitty writing by reminding myself why i hate it so i don’t inadvertently adopt her techniques and characters

but Author Lady really went

“you know what a strong female character is? Someone who can use knives and fight and is Royalty and Special”

like a man writing female characters

im sorry it reeks of misogyny

this isn’t to say that I think female characters being made royal is bad! Hell no. But you need her to have a right to deserve the throne, just like a male character

A//elin has a birthright to the throne, but that’s all she has. She hasn’t been in Terr//asen in TEN YEARS. She’s sworn off killing people from her country during her time as an assassin, but other than that… Does she know her own people beyond her cousin, Elide, and the lords (ie Darrow and co)? No. Does she even know her people? No. So… tell me again. Why does the girl who showed up and suddenly decided she wanted to fight for her country deserve its throne? Once she is on that throne, does she have plans for taxes? For borders and the peasants who were stripped of EVERYTHING by Ad/arlan? She never once considers this. Her blood money will win her the war, but what of the aftermath? She is the queen of an impoverished country who has spent years in the lap of luxury, and she has no plan for her people beyond a self-glorified ideal of “freeing them”.

Now let’s examine Fey//re: she was an impoverished human girl who was made immortal and given magical powers. Why does having this power make her worthy of being a ruler? I’m sorry, but Tam//lin was right. He was wrong to cast her aside, fine, and wrong to lock her up, yes, but he was right: she is illiterate and knows nothing of governing. But it’s also Fey//re’s own fault. She asked him ONCE about being a high lady, and didn’t press him when he said there are none. She could have, but didn’t. She could’ve told him she wanted to be included in more meetings, could’ve pushed back. For all that she scorned Lucien for not helping her fight T//amlin’s restraints, she never really tried either. She has never been a ruler of anything, not even her own family. Why does she deserve a crown now? Because she can hunt and has lots of magic? Because Rh/ysand says so? Not. Good. Enough. She doesn’t care about the people. She doesn’t have any agency. She doesn’t have any ideas for improvement for the night court. She was better off in the spring court where she could have changed things like the Tithe, or even waited to see if that system worked and if it didn’t, PROPOSE A NEW ONE, don’t just try to undermine it.

I’m so glad I realized how shitty author lady’s books are before I completely molded my writing after hers

[topgunreacts]

for the omegaverse au, who is the alpha and who is the omega?

Explain my non-standard omegaverse system, thereby clarifying important themes and plot points within my story?? Don’t mind if I do!!!!!

I was going to do this anyway at some point because I know a lot of people avoid A/B/O due to some widely used tropes. If you (whoever reading this) are potentially interested in my story but hesitant due to past omegaverse experiences, this may help you make a final decision. Here’s a quick rundown of my treatment of common tropes in list form, and THEN I will answer your very simple question.

When in heat, do male omegas feel an unstoppable, uncontrollable horniness that overpowers any reluctance to have sex?

Not in my omegaverse. Dubcon winds up in a lot of omegaverse story tags because of this trope. But in my version of A/B/O, a male omega’s heat symptoms can look like any number of things. Horniness can be a symptom, but it isn’t for everyone. And even when it is, it presents itself like more of an itch that wants to be scratched. If a male omega in heat is horny but isn’t around someone he wants to fuck, then he will not fuck. This will cause him to feel irritated, though. If sex is among his body’s primary ways to feel safe during a heat and accrue the most biological resources, he may go on to have a really bad time psychologically. But at no point will he be trying to have sex he doesn’t want to have.

Mpreg?

Not in my omegaverse. I have no beef with it, it just doesn’t play a role in my stories. However, I would like to point out that trans, intersex, asexual, and other flavors of queer people exist within my universe. So a male person WITH a uterus could get pregnant if they were able to.

When alphas are in rut, do they possess an uncontrollable urge to mate with someone in heat?

No, and I call that out explicitly in Marrying the Hangman as a line alphas use in court to try and get out of assault charges. Do bigoted in-universe people actually believe this happens? Yes. Does it actually happen? No.

Are alpha and omega designations synonymous with ‘top’ and ‘bottom,’ ‘dom’ and ‘sub,’ respectively?

Absolutely not! Anyone could be any combination of these things, including vers/switch. A male omega in heat who experiences horniness might personally scratch that itch by way of topping in a more assertive manner, for example. I refer to being alpha/beta/omega as a biological sex, not a gender.

The biggest reason why I chose to piggyback this info on that ask submission is because the answer to the question of who is alpha and who is omega is loaded with assumptions due to the nature of commonly seen tropes. So when I say

Maverick is the alpha and Ice is the omega

that does not impact their characterization in the ways you [general You] might think. I saw a post a while ago scoffing at the idea of Iceman being an omega, and that is almost certainly because ‘male omega’ generally amounts to the following overpacked suitcase of assumptions: passive, helpless, sex-obsessed, ditzy. None of those things apply to Ice. While we’re here, none of those traits are inherently Bad, either. It is our treatment of our assumptions and not merely the assumptions themselves that speak to our biases. They just don’t apply to MY story. Ice IS omega. He’s also still Ice.

The big question, then:

So what is the purpose of heating and rutting?

In my verse, each of the six ‘standard issue’ biological sexes come with their own niche to fill. It’s not just about steamy smut. There are Reasons, god help me, why humans evolved four distinct hormonal/pheromonal types. And sex makes up but one piece of a massive evolutionary tapestry.

We humans are strongest in groups, yes? We form communities. We specialize so that no one has to do everything. We protect our own. My omegaverse reflects that. Heats and ruts, as a result, are all about creating and maintaining those social bonds. And sometimes, that involves sex.

For plot purposes, I focus the most on male alphas and male omegas, but here is a rundown of all six sexes.

Typing Characteristics

Male Omegas

0.001% of male population

In-universe stereotypes that are based on bias, not fact: ditzy, impulsive, irresponsible, unintelligent, weak-willed, slutty, high-strung

Average sperm count

Produce slick

Throw out a LOT of Find Me pheromones during a heat—sex was one of evolution’s many great ideas on how to attract and subsequently recruit nearby alphas/betas as protection and (ideally) long term partners.

Evolved to be community leaders. Their hormones are very chatty, always reaching out pheromonally to make connections with other types. The thing that makes them unique is their ability to synthesize pheromonal bonds between individual people. In the same way periods will sync up among people in proximity who have them, a male omega’s pheromones get all of their People on the same heat/rut schedule to maximize group power and efficiency. When they heat, that ability becomes especially strong.

A male omega’s heat is driven by an external goal. Once a month, their bodies release a stockpile of hormones that compel them to identify and carry out ‘missions’ that strengthen their community. They take more risks (with success) during this time, relying on their sharp senses and protectors to balance out any dangers. [see notes for more clarification]

Their biologically-driven goal is to become the center of a community that helps nurture and protect their unique gift. Because they are so singularly focused on their goal during a heat, they need protection. Alphas and betas offer them that protection.

Heats can go ‘bad’ for a number of reasons. The two main triggers for heat sickness (toxic hormone accumulation) are (1) failing to have their personal heat care requirements met and (2) catastrophically failing to achieve their goal.

Male Alphas

30% of male population

In-universe stereotypes that are based on bias, not fact: sexually aggressive, domineering, always horny, can’t think too horny!

Higher than average sperm count

Somewhat more likely to produce more male alpha children

Strong instinct to provide for and protect their People

American taboo: male alphas don’t bottom. It just isn’t done! That’s for wimmin and gays [male omegas]

Have the ability to knot during a rut

Four types of ruts!

Unbonded annual rut: without the influence of pharmaceuticals, this will happen every year for a male that is not part of a stable community, ideally one with a male omega at the center. For a period of about a week, his senses will magnify, especially his sense of smell, and he will feel an extremely powerful urge to roam. This is Finding Mode. He wants to find a community to protect and nurture.

Bonded annual rut: without the influence of pharmaceuticals, this will happen every year for a male that IS part of a stable community. For a period of about a week, his body will completely flush his alpha hormones, effectively hitting a reset button. During this time, it is critical that his community support him; he will feel vulnerable, his protective urges will magnify beyond what is sensible, and that can turn into paranoia and even psychosis at the extreme end. Make him a pillow fort or something and he should be fine.

Unbonded pseudorut: the US military gives alphas pills to trigger these for combat. This version of the pseudorut is a dumbed down version of a bonded male’s heightened sensory period with feelings of purpose. The military becomes a stand-in for a true community leader, and the male alphas will become more aggressive and intent on following orders.

Bonded pseudorut: these are naturally triggered in an alpha male’s body every time he is around a male or female omega he is bonded to, who is also in heat. His senses heighten, and he becomes completely focused on seeing to his community leader’s needs, whether that means following them into combat as their wingman or getting them more snacks from the fridge.

The other groups see less screen time, so I will shorten their descriptions.

Female Alphas

In-universe stereotypes that are based on bias, not fact: basically every sexist thing that haunts corporate women—bossy, mean, not a team player, etc

15% of female population

Average fertility, slightly more likely to produce more alphas both male and female

Experience ruts functionally identical to those experienced by male alphas

Charlie is an alpha female in this story. She is also an ace lesbian.

Female Omegas

In-universe stereotypes that are based on bias, not fact: stupid, obsessed with babies, always want sex

High fertility rates

15% of female population

During a heat, they become even more fertile. Their bodies throw out copious amounts of protect-me, find-me pheromones. They will feel varying levels of desire to reproduce, and that desire can manifest in various ways. It is a spectrum. Some of them will conform to the stereotypical Horny Time model, while others may not care about sex itself so much as the mechanical act of fertilizing their eggs. Still others may feel little to no sex drive, but they are a minority.

Likelihood for twins, triplets, etc very high

Natural partners for male omegas in terms of community leadership. Working together, they both gain full benefits of being surrounded by dedicated protectors. Taboo in some cultures for them to be sexual partners as well.

Female and Male Betas

In-universe stereotypes that are based on bias, not fact: boring, dispassionate, genetically useless, The Other Guys, mediators

The stabilizing factor of every chemically/hormonally bonded community. They keep the balance when they’re bonded to a group by naturally assisting with pheromonal equilibrium.

Their bodies can produce rutting or heating chemicals that don’t trigger their own ruts or heats but instead “keep the peace” in terms of making sure the core team’s train doesn’t go flying off the tracks

Will play more of a role in the sequel

Other Notes

The term “heat” is used for both omega males and females due to various scientific misunderstandings that happened across many cultures many hundreds of years ago. Throughout history there have been periods of activism where researchers advocate for a more nuanced naming system, but how successful those efforts were are highly dependent on culture. American culture likes its three types, six sexes model. Makes bigotry so much easier! You fit in this box, you act this way. Step outside of it and you will be punished. The ‘It’s Complicated’ models are the ideal.

But I said earlier there are four true hormonal types, not three, and this is how: because male and female omega heats are based on entirely different hormones and evolutionary purposes, they really should not be classified together at all. The four “true” types are: male omega, female omega, alpha, and beta.

On the subject of male omegas’ heat missions: those come in various forms, and various levels of intensity. It all comes down to what the individual male omega wants to do (or is told to want to do). That could look like any number of things: a big hunt or agricultural project, leading a military unit, or starting a new company initiative. It could also look like one male omega, one female omega, three alphas, and three betas (they’re using the trunk obvs) driving to a paintball place once a month to annihilate everyone present and then leave. It’s not all about blood and sex and drama. A group of teenagers who live in a culture that eschews pharmaceutical hormone control could form a hormonal bond around a male omega that is really into skateboarding, and they all come together to built a non OSHA compliant skate park in someone’s backyard. Groups can also shift in membership over time, too. Six months later and the group’s membership and ‘missions’ could look totally different.

Okay I’m done. For now.

[immaterial-pearl]

This sounds insane but I went to a panel at a con about the worst yaois ever made (it was two hours long and i have never in my life read actual yaoi mangas despite my long time jokes about yaoi im sorry) and it was great except for the part where one of the hosts was pro death sentences unironically (I know how that sounds but I promise you she really highlighted this was part of her belief system).

BEFORE YOU ACCUSE ME OF DEFENDING RAPISTS I am a victim of rape, I am a victim of sexual assault, and yes, I wish my rapist and people who assaulted me died. But the goverment should not be able to kill them.

So here's a quick run down on why DEATH SENTENCE IS BAD EVEN IF THE CRIME COMMITTED WAS EXTREMELY BAD.

First we must admit that death sentence, if it should ever occur, it must only be given to people who are guilty of horrible crimes, yes? Let's go through the first list based on that assumption.

It's irreversable. In most cases we cannot be sure the crime was actually committed because we aren't omnipotent. Yes we can have extremely solid evidence, but on the off chance (and I repeat even if it's minimal), we should not kill innocent people. Imprisoning them, gives us a chance to give them back their freedom, even if we cannot give them back time.

The justice system is biased. Black inmates in the US are way more likely to be sentenced to death than white people convicted of the same crime. Black people are being killed for being black, not just for being guilty.

Law is not equal to morality. In the past, rape, one of the worst crimes a person can commit, has been defined in law, as an act of a man forcing a woman he is not married to, to have sex. As we know, rape can be marital, can be done by men to men and can be commited by women. Law is never equal to morality and is subject to change, ergo, we should not let something that biased to define who can and who cannot be killed.

On why capital punishment is bad in general, even if the person is objectively guilty.

The goverment should not have that kind of power. Law is not morality, but further than that, the goverment has its own agenda. We shouldn't let Real Life Rapist Donald Trump decide if a rapist should be killed or not. We shouldn't allow Believes Israel Should Get To Do Genocide Kamala Harris decide if a murder should be killed. You know, holocaust was legal, slavery was legal, raping your wife was legal, no goverment is innocent, and every life lost because of it should stain it entirely, like a drop of blood in water. The goverment should not kill people. The goverment is not an omnipotent entity that is always right, and death is final and undoable.

The justice system should not be a moral god, it should be utilitarian. Why would it be a moral god (insert any moral all knowing thing)? It's not omnipotent. It doesn't have solid morals because it's constructed out of prejudiced people following or not following prejudiced laws, which were decided by prejudiced people. Prison is for increasing safety and minimising harm. How does killing an imprisoned, powerless person minimise hurt? It doesn't. It's a way to 1. decrease cost (horrible reason to kill anyone really) 2. give finality to victims (I can empathise with this, but there are better ways to improve a victim's life, than murder, that also are not an eye for an eye murder).

Killing people is bad actually. No, really that's the easiest most basic argument. Every person deserves to live as long as they can, and as long as their life isn't a danger to other people. Isolating a person via prison, and working to undo their harm, via providing free healthcare, therapy, financial support and improving the safety of our society, is better than killing someone. A whole person, even if they are the scum of the earth. I can condone killing in situations where it isn't possible. But it is very possible if the subject is already in court.

[vodika-vibes]

Round 7 *ding ding ding*

(Oh no, I've breached containment)

Keeli and "Stay behind me, no matter what."

Please and thank you, my love 💚💚💚

@the-bad-batch-baroness

Stay Behind Me

Summary: When you take a job, after promising Keeli that you were done in that line of work, you have a lot of explaining to to.

Pairing: Captain Keeli x Reader

Word Count: 644

Warning: Disappointed Keeli (which should be a warning in and of itself), Reader is a thief

Tagging: @trixie2023

A/N: I woke up at 4:30 am and then laid in bed until it was a slightly less disgusting time to be awake. Which resulted in me typing this in under an hour after making my mocha latte. Also, this is sorta based on Leverage, and I could probably write a whole series on the adventures of Captain Keeli and his cyare, the thief. But I won't because I have some self-control.

Divider by Saradika

“Why are you here?”

You smile, sheepishly, up at your Captain, “Well,” you say slowly, “You see-”

Keeli sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, “Cyare, are you here on a job?”

“What! No!”

“Cyare-”

“Maybe. Just a little one.” You admit as your shoulders slump.

“Babe, you promised you were done.”

“I know, I know I did. But this is important-” You try.

“It’s always important. Where’s the rest of your crew?”

“Maybe I came by myself.” You say defensively, and then you quail until his unimpressed stare, “Uhm…they’re on other floors.” You finally admit, your voice small.

“Cyare,” Keeli sounded very disappointed, “You promised me that you were done with the whole thief thing. You swore it.”

“I know! I know! And I meant it! I did!” 

“Then why are you here? If you meant it, you would be at home, babe. Not here.” He sounds so very disappointed in you that you nervously start playing with your gloves.

“It’s important, Keel.” You say quietly.

“What, exactly, is so important that you would break your promise to me?” Keeli asks, well, demands really.

You’re quiet, for a long moment, and then you hesitantly touch his arm, “Keeli, this company is funding the terrorists that did the First Citizen bombing, and they’re planning something bigger. We’re here to stop it.”

Keeli is quiet for a moment, and then he sighs, “You have proof of this?”

“Yes.”

“And it’s solid evidence? Evidence that would hold up in a court of law?”

You grimace, “The evidence is more than just solid, Keeli. It’s incontrovertible.” You reply, “But the man in charge is wealthy enough that he’ll never see a day of prison.”

“You should have more faith in the justice system.” Keeli chides gently.

“In the six years I’ve been doing this, they never see a prison cell, Keeli. Ever.” You counter, just as gently, “One last job. I promise.”

“Cyare, there’s always going to be one more job. You need to stop this before you get yourself killed.” Keeli replies.

“I have the ability to help the families of the people who were killed,” You say, “And I know that you feel like I lied to you, but I meant it when I said I was done. But I’m the best at what I do.”

“That’s not something to be proud of!”

“I know!” You snap, and then you take a deep breath, “I know.” You repeat quieter, gentler, “But sometimes this feels like the only thing I can do. And I use it to help people.”

“You’re a thief.”

“You knew that when you asked me out on our first date, Keeli. I never hid that from you.” You remind him.

And Keeli sighs. He runs his gloved hand over his intricately shaved head, and then he sighs again, “You are, so incredibly, lucky that I love you and that I like your friends.” He grumbles, “Where do you need to get?”

You stare at him for a long moment, and then you grin, “Server room 3.”

Keeli grumbles and pulls his helmet on, “Stay behind me, no matter what.”

“Yes sir!” You say with a bright grin.

“Ugh, don’t call me sir.” Keeli turns away from you and sends a message through his comm to his men, and then he turns back to you, “I’ve given the order that the men are to ignore you and your friends unless they hurt someone.”

“Thank you, Keeli!” You say with a delighted grin as you practically bounce over to him and kiss his helmet, “You’re the best.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know. You owe me for this, cyare.”

“I’m good for it!” You promise gleefully, and then you fall into step behind him.

“And cyare,” He glances at you over his shoulder, “Love you.”

And you melt a little bit, “I love you too.”