#army of thieves cast

[bimoonphases]

@wolfstarmicrofic July 1 - prompt 1: Western [word count 798]

“It’s the second time this month! The whole chest of gold from the mines!”

Sirius raised his eyes from his whittling to cast a bored look at the man frantically pacing in his office. As sheriff of Godric Springs, he should have been on his feet, nodding at the distress of one of his fellow citizens, but looking at Lucius Malfoy hysterically flipping his hair from one side of his neck to another because he had been robbed once again was too damn funny.

“Hire more guards,” he said slowly.

Malfoy stared at him, outraged.

“You’re the sheriff! It’s your job to capture these outlaws and hang them!”

Sirius snorted and took his feet away from his desk, looking at Malfoy as he would do a child.

“Lucius,” he said slowly. “The Silver Bullet and the Ruby Gun have been plaguing this region for years evading capture every single time. There’s nothing more I can do, even as sheriff.”

“You should hunt them down! Cable Washington, have them send your brother over with the army!”

“Oh, I’m sure General Black has no more pressing matters at hands other than two petty thieves,” Sirius rolled his eyes. “Have you considered changing your methods instead, Lucius?”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, you know,” Sirius smiled innocently. “The Ruby Gun and the Silver Bullet targeted the Lestrange mines before yours. Once your dear sister-in-law convinced her husband to pay the right wages to the miners they never stole from them again.”

Malfoy’s eyes narrowed and he flipped his hair one last time before storming out of the sheriff’s office.

“Do you think he’ll get it?” Peter asked from his desk.

“Doubt it,” Sirius shook his head. “But he’ll have no other choice, it’s either become a decent person or lose all his gold and we know Malfoy loves his gold.”

“How many landowners like that are left?” Peter looked up at the wall, where the map of the region was pinned.

“A lot,” Sirius sighed. “Our favourite outlaws have work to do.”

“Not what you expected when you became sheriff?”

“Definitely not,” Sirius smiled.

A bell rang somewhere in the distance, followed by happy shouts. Some minutes later, the door of the office opened and James walked him, his teacher’s briefcase under one arm.

“Hiya boys,” he smiled. “School’s out and I thought I would deliver Rose here right to her daddy.”

A little girl with blonde pigtails ran in after him and jumped in Peter’s arms, almost making him fall off his chair. Both James and Sirius laughed and Sirius got up.

“We’re closing early today,” he said. “Go home with your daughter, vice-sheriff.”

After locking up the office and waving goodbye to Peter and Rose, Sirius walked with James to where his horse was waiting.

“Any news?” James asked.

“Another chest of Malfoy gold stolen right as it was being transported from his mines into town. Malfoy ended up even requesting the whole army to fight two outlaws, it was really funny,” Sirius said.

“So they made it out without getting caught again?”

“They did,” Sirius smiled and patted James’s shoulder. “Go home to your wife, Prongs. I’m sure she’s already waiting for you.”

James nodded and hurried away while Sirius mounted Adhara and trotted to the little ranch he owned half an hour from town. Once there he took the time to tend to the mare and give her plenty of water before walking in the house.

“Honey, I’m home,” he called out, throwing his hat and landing it perfectly on the back of a chair.

“In here,” Remus’s voice called back.

Sirius walked in their bedroom where Remus was kneeling at the foot of their bed, carefully putting sacks of gold labeled with the Malfoy seal in the cache under the floorboards. He looked up and smiled at him.

“Busy day, sheriff?”

“You could say that,” Sirius smiled. “A distinguished citizen has been robbed for the second time this month, it was really hard not to laugh in his face.”

“Lily left a perfectly clear threat in the carriage that we will continue robbing them until those poor miners have decent wages and working conditions.”

“Still, the Silver Bullet is making my life complicated at work.”

Remus replaced the floorboards and got up, crossing his arms.

“And what are you going to do, sheriff?” he cocked an eyebrow. “Arrest me?”

“I could,” Sirius smirked, walking closer to him and pushing him back with one hand.

Remus took a couple steps back until his legs hit the side of the bed and he ended up falling on it. Sirius was quick to climb into his lap.

“For now I think I’ll just handcuff you to the bed, shall I?” he whispered, before pulling Remus in a searing kiss.

[gollancz]

We are thrilled and delighted to reveal the cover for HIGH VAULTAGE, the first novel from @victoriocity, coming in 2024.

1887. London, but not as you know it. The sprawling, chaotic metropolis of Even Greater London spreads across the southern half of England. The immense Tower casts electricity through the sky, powering the mind-boggling mechanisms of the city. The engineer-army of Isambard Kingdom Brunel swarms across the capital, building, demolishing, and rebuilding whatever they see fit. Queen Victoria is recovering nicely from her eleventh assassination, ruling with the dignity that comes from striking terror into anyone who sees the unholy union of human and machine that one has become. And at the heart of all this sits the country's first Private Investigation Agency. Archibald Fleet (formerly of Scotland Yard, currently administratively deceased) and Clara Entwhistle (formerly of Harrogate, currently intermittent crime journalist) hoped things would pick up quickly for their new enterprise. No-one is taking them seriously, but their break will come soon. Definitely. Probably. Meanwhile, police are baffled by a series of impossible bank robberies. With no trace left of the thieves, and nothing to connect each break-in to the next, their resources are absorbed by the case. Which means that when a woman witnesses a kidnapping, Fleet-Entwhistle Private Investigations is the only place she can turn for help. They're more than happy to oblige! But why would this man be a target for kidnappers? As Clara and Fleet dig into the mystery, things go deeper than they could ever have anticipated . . .

Pre-order here!

Can't wait until next year? Check out the phenomenal, hilarious podcast.

[bitchfitch]

For a nobleman of any rank, the only relationship more politically influencial than a marriage that he could forge was that of mentor and apprentice.

The right wife, might, give him a lifetime of alliance with her family and heirs to succeed him or to marry off to other families to forge further alliances, but the right apprentice would give him a direct line into any family, village, town, country even, that that apprentice might someday lead. The Right apprentice might even prove a worthy heir without the mess blood ties brought. A son killing his father is crowned king, an apprentice knows he can do nothing to his mentor without the community turning on him in an instant.

The right apprentice wouldn't have an unfit older brother that needed done away with first.

The elder demon prince had spent many of his days dreaming of who he would want for his apprentice. A strapping young lad who was clever and brave and as ruthless as he. A boy who took after his heart and would find the beauty in conquest and glory in brutal battle. Strong with a sword, he had to be a match for Pavo himself so he'd feel no shame should the apprentice betray him.

The Cristatus clan, Pavo's own home and current top of the pile with their leader reigning as Demon King, was the obvious source for a boy of a like heart, but there was no point in making an allyship within the people he was already prince of.

He cast his net wider, his father was nearing the end of his life and Pavo wanted his apprentice under his wing before a crown made him too busy to dedicate proper time to making a warrior.

The Galluses, proud as any Cristatus but scrappy in their unrefinement. A boy from their ranks would jump to meet Pavo's expectations just to stay in the luxury of the Cristatus' wealth. His loyalty guaranteed by the nature of his clans need for protection and resources. Little did they offer politically besides bodies to fill the front lines of a battle with, but the image of him as a king for the downtrodden would be worth as much as any proper alliance.

The Ocellatta, Gorgeous artisans with their lands bursting with gems and precious metals. The boy they'd give would be worthless as a warrior, smug and brave with no strength or common sense, but the wealth and trade and beautiful people with their beautiful things would make the creature worth it. Their army was bought and not raised. Expensive yes, but convenient should he need to turn on his apprentices home. He could pay more, and make the boy watch as it all burned.

The Coraxes were shadow bound cowards. Snively assassin's who struck from the shadows and hid behind their mountainous home. Traitors, thieves, conniving, as weak in will as they were in body. Their mountains bursting with silver and rich with gold. Their territory a barrier to conquests of further flung riches.

Their lord a wannabe queen who was biding her time for a single moment of weakness that could allow her strike to be as quick as it was decisive in the fate of their looming war.

It was her, Lady Corvus of the Corax who stood before Prince Pavo the day he'd accept his apprentice.

He'd heard many descriptions of her. Lean with antler like horns and a whip tail that cut light itself. Her shadows so thick that all light that touched her skin vanished into her darkness. He could tell you nothing of her even as his younger brother directed his attention the right way with a hand on the back of his arm.

The silver mirror prosthetic eyes that granted Pavo the vision he hadn't been born with were miracles of magic he'd boast about till the day he died, but they always failed to show him what was hidden and all a Corax did was hide.

"Prince Pavo," her voice was that metered and courtly thing nobles who were ashamed of the blood on their hands used.

"Lady Corax," he returned with the drawl the finer demons hated to hear on their soon to be leaders voice.

Her carriage stood proud behind her, the door open and moving in such a way that implied another of her ilk was bent over the seat and attempting to convince the boy of the hour out from the shadows within.

"He's a bit shy. Clever though." She keeps her tone despite the dawning embarrassment both were being forced to endure.

Pavo shot a look over his shoulder to the company of his warriors and their apprentices behind him. The Coraxes made it look like they came alone, just a family with a handmaid and a driver, but not one of them believed there weren't Coraxes hiding in every shadow along the edges of the clearing between their lands that they'd chosen for this meeting.

The shriek of a child being torn from perceived safety was what pulled his attention back the right way.

The panicked thing thrashed in invisible to Pavo arms, his face streaked with tears.

Every demon stood a little straighter, the smell was what changed their tone from amusement to curious hunger.

The boy was perfectly visible. No shadows clung to him. His skin was flushed but deathly grey, his hair a sort of ink black that Pavo had never seen in the light of day. His eyes though were brown where the whites weren't cried red.

He was too young to have horns, too tiny to be a demon 10 years of age, his whipping tail too short to be seen beyond his skirts. A man who couldn't see color wouldn't have hesitated a second to call him completely human.

The boy lunged to wrap his arms around his mother's legs as soon as he was set down, Pavo imagined he had his face hidden in her skirts from the perspective of everyone else.

He scowled, Truthahn pinched his arm to remind him to keep his temper.

"Esti, this is Prince Pavo, he is to be your master," she pushed him away from her with a hand on his shoulder, her claws making the fabric of his robe pull and drape as she half picked him up to turn him.

"Esti, what a unique name," Pavo crouched down to bring his face near Esti's eye level, the boy flinched away from him. He'd maim Corvus for this slight. He admired her initiative, but to use a child as bait was a crime he'd not forget.

The halfbred bastard son shook. His expression said it all. He knew he'd been brought here so his death may justify a war. A walking martyr too young to have ever had a choice in it.

"It's great joy to finally meet you. I've waited to have an apprentice of my own for many years," he spoke loud and clearly as he held his hand out, the gesture being taken as slowly as he could as to not spook Esti further. Corvus wanted to see her son slaughtered, and he refused to give her so much as a frown of disappointment in the boy. "It'd be an honor to have the privilege to train you, if you'll have me as your mentor." He wished he could see Corvus's face, he hoped the boy could.

Esti's round eyes were wide, the moment not aligning with the terror he'd carried to this meeting. He looked at Pavo's hand like it might be a bear trap.

"Don't be rude, Esti," Corvus warned, the barely there note of irritation was enough to make Pavo break and grin.

"He's making a big decision. Be patient with him," Truthahn spoke for him.

Esti looked between the two Cristatus brothers, they must look like holy men out of a fairy tale to him.

They were magnificent even by demon standards. Tall and broad, their garb cut to show the heavy muscle they carried. The color of summer sun's bronze warmth with hair of the richest gemstone purple. Jewelry dripping from their horns to their ankles. Truthan with his neatly folded wings and Pavo with his mirrors for eyes.

Esti who came from a land of grey, of deception and betrayal by his own kin, reached his hand to take Pavo's.

"I- uhm," his voice was small, his every muscle tense and shaking as he waited for the trap to spring shut. "I- I - it's an uhm, honor to be uhm- Thank you. For uh, accepting m-me as your ap-rentice."

He hadn't even been coached on what to say should Pavo welcome him. Not a single scrap of silver had been spared to put a thin ring on any of his fingers. No leather for his belt, His very sandals looked as inexpensive and thin soled as could be managed.

Pavo gripped his hand tight to hold him still, and pushed a bracelet worth more than the carriage Esti had arrived in onto the boys wrist. It wasn't part of either of their customs, but it was a necessity to point out how dismissive Esti's own kin had been of him.

"It's official now," Pavo gave the boy a reassuring smile before dragging him forward and off of his feet. He weighed next to nothing, even less than Pavo had anticipated as he hefted Esti up to sit on the shelf his shoulder. Pavo turned to his men a triumphant gesture to show off their newest member.

"Greet him! My apprentice, Esti now of the Cristatus clan!" He was glad he didn't need to coax them any further, the cheering ruptured through the group. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Esti cling to the bracelet instead of the hand on his thigh that kept him safe from falling off. His priority to protect the gift he'd been given over his own body in that moment of shocked joy being such a pathetic instinct that it had Pavo promising to himself the boy would think of his home clan as savages by the summer's end when compared to the grace and glory of his mentor's.

The Coraxes left with as little fanfare as they had arrived. Drifting away while the party to celebrate their unwanted eldest son swelled.

Music and fine food cooked at the village and wine carried by their human servants. The comradery of brothers in battle if not blood filling the forest.

Esti to his credit handled the attention well for a child who'd clearly never so much as been allowed to stand in the corner of a proper revel. Still that manifested as him sitting with a look of war shock under the cover of Pavo's cloak. His small frame hidden easily by his new mentor's bulk.

Slowly the wave of warriors and apprentices that came to greet and introduce themselves to the brown eyed shadow under their prince's arm tapered off. Slower then did the party settle into the rhythm of conversation and relaxation.

The servants cleaned around the demons I preparation for setting up camp for the night, the boy who hadn't spoken a single word since his mother left cowered from them just as strongly as he did the warriors that came to chat as old friends with his mentor.

Gallo, a warrior Pavo had picked from a surrendering army himself, sat on the other side of him, his apprentice off following one of the human servant girls around the camp. The two older men watched the hopeful Cockrel shadow her every step. His smile warm his tongue heavy with promises made light by the wine.

"Ah don't judge the chick," Gallo thumped Pavo's shoulder. "Surely even you remember being young and opportunistic."

"I remember it well. Just as well as I remember never understanding the appeal of a human as anything other than a meal."

"A fuck and breakfast in bed, what more could you want?" Gallo joked. "He's got his airheaded reason you know. I think your little hatchling's got him thinking."

"A first for him?"

"Shut it, your highness. No, no, the boy saw how quick everyone was to start playing so much nicer with you. He's not getting a good demoness to nest with him, so he's thinking he's going to get human to do it and let his brothers do the work of raising up the next generation while he and whichever girl he can sweet talk into it make their fortune selling meat,"

"Is this his new attempt at business?" Pavo sighed. Cockerel wasn't a warrior by any definition. Never would be either, but he thought himself clever enough to make it as head of a merchant empire should he be able to get enough capital to start his ventures with.

"It's his best yet, to be honest," Gallo shrugged, he was right, to an extent, because this was the first time he had an idea for a product instead of vague promises of what the product would be.

"He's looking to get a human bred by him so he can sell off his own as meat."

"Hm hm, I give it oh, a week before he breaks and just chews her open."

"Stop him."

"He's showing initiative -"

"He can show initiative with your heard instead of mine. As is the beasts aren't producing enough for slaughter. I'm not loosing a good and healthy-" The fearful sob from his other side was enough to remind him of Esti's presence. "This is done. Stop him. For the time being no half breeds will be permitted in our flock. My apprentice doesn't need anyone learning a preference for that kind of meat."

"Wait- You're seriously keeping that thing?" Gallo reached aroumd him to grab the cloak away from Esti's back.

Pavo didn't hesitate. He grabbed his friend by the front of his neck and jerked him off of the fallen log they'd been sat on and onto the ground before it. Pavo stood to bring his entire wait down on the soft of Gallo's gut, his heel planted just below to concave of the man's ribs. Gallo hacked and gasped, his claws scrambling at the metal armor over Pavo's boot.

"Apologize to him," Pavo snarled, glad to have had someone volunteer to be the example for the others.

"I'm sorry-" Gallo's words cut off with the crunch of his ribs breaking from the lowest point on his sternum.

"For and to who?"

"Esti- Fuck, I'm sorry. I'm sorry-"

"For?" Pavo lifted his boot to bring it down again with the same force as before,

"For - for-" Gallo struggled to find his error amidst his pain, his air being forced from his lungs with every stomp. "For ask-ing if you'd keep him."

"Esti," Pavo drove his heel down once more before turning to the boy, "Has he earned your mercy?"

Esti looked at him like he were a god in the flesh. Like his act of impulsive violence was divine intervention.

He opened his mouth, a merciful confirmation on his lips, before those human brown eyes lit with the realization of the power he held.

"No, he hasn't, Master."

Pavo's pride could light the fires for a year with how hot it burned.

Gallo snarled at the disgrace of having a halfbred child handed his fate. He struck out to attempt to grab for Esti's leg but Esti, for all his fear, was an agile creature. He moved out of the way with the grace the Coraxes were known for. Perching on the balls of his feet on a rotten branch so thin it should've broken the second someone breathed near it.

"What does he need to do to earn it?"

"Uhm- Cockrel. Cockrel will have his punishment."

"Leave him out of this!"

"No. Y-you insulted Pavo's apprentice, shouldn't- uhm- you suffer the same?" he stops, his confidence wavered, he looked to Pavo for guidance.

"Ah, a clever thing isn't he, hm? He's right. To my face, you dared to imply I'd let harm befall my own apprentice. You must surely be willing to see such happen to yours to even think it a possibility for mine," Pavo stepped off of him, finding Cockerel staring wide eyed from the the crowd that had congregated to watch the show.

Pavo beckons him over, the boy had to be shoved forward by warriors with more common sense than Gallo.

"Please-" Gallo fought to his knees, Pavo had no qualms kicking the side of his head to knock him back down.

The boy rushed to stand between his mentor and Pavo, he held his head high. He shook with fear. Weaselly as he was, Pavo had to admit the boy was a loyal sort.

"What was it, you were going to imply I should let happen to Esti?" Pavo strutted, the fear around him feeding into his sense of showmanship.

"He's a halfbred- I thought you wouldn't stand for the insult of Corvus pretending he was a worth offer."

"Hmm." Pavo hummed, he drew his hunting knife from where it was tucked into his belt and held its handle out to Esti. "Four I think. One for the presumption, one for attempting to touch you, one for attempting to harm you, and one for being too cowardly to fight for his right to take a punishment instead of his apprentice."

Esti took the knife, it was massive in his tiny hands, "Four? F-Four what, Master?"

"Four of something. Whatever you deem Cockerel should take for his mentor's crimes."

Esti nodded, he pushed the bracelet up his forearm until it looped over his elbow. Pavo made a note to teach the boy to not be so precious about things getting bloody.

"Y-your hand, please," Esti's foot steps barely disturbed the soil as he approached the older boy, "Either," he clarified.

"He's a swordsman- he'll have no use to your mentor without his -"

"Six," Pavo interrupted, "If that one keeps talking you will take the whole hand."

Cockerel screwed his eyes shut holding his hand out with his fingers splayed.

Esti wrapped one small hand around one thick finger, the edge of the blade placed under the edge of a claw. He looked to Pavo again seeking approval like a pup. He got it with a nod.

Cockerel couldn't muffle his pained scream, the blade cut clean. Taking his claw and the tip of his finger with a single, unskilled motion.

Esti stared at the dripping wound, a nudge on his shoulder from Pavo being enough to send him after the next. Cockerel fell to his knees, he still stood taller than Esti, his other hand gripping his wrist as he swore and bit back screams through the pain.

Two, three, four more, and the hand before him was declawed in its entirety. Esti didn't give the demon a moment of mercy, or in his mercy he aimed to make this as quick as he could, he grabbed for the other hand and took the claw off it's thumb before Cockerel could even lift his head.

Esti stepped back and to Pavo's side the second the deed was done. All his bravado being pulled under his nervous nature seconds after the act was done. Pavo ruffled his hair with all the affection a demon could muster for another. It was a clever choice. Painful and scarring, but unlikely to be permanent. The boy's claws would grow back, and with the right care, might even be just as straight when they do.

"There. Next time I will decide his punishment, and I won't show nearly as much grace as Esti has today." Pavo dismissed them with a wave of his hand, taking his seat and holding his cloak up for Esti to return to hiding beneath its cover. An offer Esti took as gratefully as he did quickly.

Gallo half carried Cockerel away, smartly keeping his mouth shut until they were far from Pavo's hearing.

He felt Esti attempt to return the knife to its sheath on Pavo's hip, but he stopped him with a hand on his. "That's yours now. The weapon you drew your first blood with is a special thing. May it serve you as faithfully as it served me."

"You already gave me the bracelet -"

"I did," Pavo unclipped another from his own wrist and grabbed Esti's to put it on him, "I'm giving you that one too, and the knife, and the sheath with it's belt when I can remove it without loosing my robes."

Esti gawked, he was really good at that. It made this new game of showing him how a noble boy should be treated so much more entertaining.

"I- Thank you, thank you, of course, b-but why?"

"Why what?"

"I don't mean to be rude but uh- he was right. I-m not worth uh any of this. Not anything."

"Hm," Pavo reached behind his own neck to unclasp a heavy beaded necklace. It would look comical around the column of Esti's neck, as it nearly hung down to hips. "I've decided you are."

"But- why?"

"Because Corvus says your not," he shrugs, "You will learn this quick, but I don't enjoy being told what to do and I don't like people thinking they can play my worst traits to their advantage. Corvus did both when she put you before me."

"She thought y-you'd kill me."

"Hm hm, and I'm glad she did. I might have actually done it if she didn't want me to."

He can tell that was the wrong thing to say within a second of the silence between them dawning. "You're safe, is the point. Don't give me a reason to decide I'm better off with you dead, and I'll protect you like you were my own blood. Understand?"

Esti nods, "Yeah, I uh, I think I do."

[phantom-dc]

More info for the Demon AU

Amity and the Kingdom it's located in worship the Father of Time. He sees all and knows all. At the beginning of time, he created the world and all living things. Allowing them to live their lives and waiting for them in the Great Beyond, he became lonely. So he created a brother. Both their names have become lost from the worlds knowledge.

This brother became greedy for power, wanting to rule over people's lives instead of simply letting them live it. After a tremendous fight in wich the Father was scarred and the brother was blinded in one eye, the brother was cast into a dark Underworld. He became known as the Pariah. The Pariah used his last moments to make it so that those living with darkness in their hearts would end up in his Underworld as well. He intends to grow an army, but he became impatient. So he found a different way to grow his army.

The Pariah had several offspring with the people that ended up in the Underworld, and this offspring became the first Demons. These beings never knew light, and took this out on the souls sent to the Underworld. They are seen as inherintly evil, without hope for redemption. Always trying to find a way into the Living Realm to carry out the Pariah's dark will.

To stop this, the church has its own Demon hunting division, known as the White Robes. Armed with salt, silver and iron they fight to keep the world safe. However, there haven't been Demons around for a long time, so they are not very good at it due to lack of knowledge and practice. They are overzealous, not caring about damage and often cause more harm than they solve. After the church finds out about the demon invasions from a thieving jester, a group is sent to the village of Amity to whipe out all demons they can find. No matter how nice and good they might act.

[laughingphoenixleader]

Merrical + soulmate au, please!!!

Jedi are easy to spot if they’re traveling alone.

That’s why they’re so easy to hunt.

Which is pretty inconvenient if you happen to be a Jedi.

Anyone non-Force sensitive has colorless eyes, unless they’re currently with their soulmate. That’s when their eyes gain color, and when the two are separated, only a sliver of their eyes remain vibrant.

Cal’s bright green eyes are basically a “kill me” sign slapped onto his face for everyone to see. Jedi are born with eyes filled with color. It’s their kyber crystals that’re said to change color when they find their person. Or, at least, that’s the rumor. It had gotten especially juicy when someone had spotted Anakin Skywalker’s lightsaber glowing bright blue in a fight to save Senator Amidala, whose eyes had recently changed to hold a sliver of a suspiciously similar blue.

That’s why, when Cal’s lightsaber sprouts from its blade in a blaze of brilliant green, he can only stare. Its usual snow colored hue is nowhere to be seen.

“S-stand aside,” Cal stammers to her. His soulmate? This woman who’s glaring at her with murder in her eyes? Of all people?

“No,” she snaps firmly. “He was right about you.”

She clearly has no idea what this means. To be fair, it’s a secret only Jedi are supposed to know. But given by how many holodramas feature Jedi with brightly-colored sabers, it’s not a well-kept one. But Nightsisters don’t seem the type to sit around and watch holodramas.

“Who…what?” Cal asks, eyes flicking from his blade to the woman who changed its color.

“Jedi are thieves and selfish liars who bring nothing but death,” she spits out the words, venom pouring from her tone. She definitely doesn’t know what just happened.

“Back off,” Cal warns her, trying to instill steel into his voice. Jedi aren’t allowed to care about soulmates, anyway. It doesn’t matter. But the lightsaber in his hand that’s casting everything in a shade of lime begs to differ. “If you attack me again, I’ll strike you down.”

Would I? With this new development?

Cal honestly has no idea.

“Oh, I won’t do a thing,” the Nightsister replies, voice matter-of-fact and cold, the threat within them obvious. “But my murdered sisters…they will have their revenge.”

And sparks in the exact same shade of green, where they had been silver before, fly from her fingertips. An expression of confusion twists her face, and Cal has this crazy thought that maybe it’s similar to the one he had earlier.

She stares at her fingers for a moment, the green mist still dancing across them, her eyebrows drawn together incredulously. Then her head whips up, her eyes locking onto Cal’s. They’re full of shock and disbelief. “You…” her voice trails off. Her dark eyes narrow. “Wasn’t your lightsaber—“ she spits out the word— “colorless before?”

Cal nods, his suspicion actually gaining some traction. “Same with your magick, right?”

The look on her face answers that question. Then she shakes her head. “This changes nothing,” the Nightsister declares, tone sharp.

“…Are you sure?” Cal asks, doubt coloring his tone like she’s colored his lightsaber.

“I am sure,” she replies, fire returning to her expression and jade magick heading from her fingers to the hanging pods that Cal has a really bad feeling about. “You will pay for the deaths of my sisters.”

“I had nothing to do with that, you know!” Cal calls out, but she’s already disappeared, leaving behind an emerging zombie army.

“Well, this is romantic,” Cal mutters dryly, then jumps into battle.

[heartfullofleeches]

I saw that you didn’t get the submissive empire or x reader so I’ll send my request again(my wifi has sucked just got new one) anyways, could you do a Yandere submissive worshipper emperor x fem(preferably) reader? Like where he sees her in his castle delivering baked goods to a friend or something and immediately falls in love. He has never been with anyone before and is a nervous wreck. Like he sees us walking away and request for information on us and figures out we’re a baker so he asks us to bring him baked goods and when we do he’s so flustered and like OMG HER HANDS WERE ON THIS and will literally do whatever we ask. So he asks us to work at the castle and he will employ someone to run our bakery and HE PAYS US BANK!! And he really loves us and spends as much time as he can in the kitchen admiring us and stuttering, meanwhile he will literally drag people to the dungeons to kill them if they make us uncomfortable or banishing them if they make moves… I’m just such a feen for submissive worshippers… thank you. And maybe him figuring out a way to court us and marry us.

( your gender is never mentioned so it's up to interpretation)

Dawn rises yet again for the sleepy kingdom. All is quiet from its court to within the castle walls. Servants work to get the day started for their ruler, and guards stood guard at their posts. Brave, nobel soliders who protect their land to their deaths. On this day he, the army stands taller than ever before, awaiting the recovery of their loyal general and the one who brought him the proper medication to cure the remainder of his ailments.

Marching up to the castle gates, a long figure ventures through the early morn. One of few soul to have risen at this hour aside from the castle staff. The soliders lower their guard, and blades as the frequent visitor approaches.

"Good morning, gentlemen."

"Morning, Y/n."

"I don’t think I have to do this considering how many times I've visited, but I'll stick to the route." You reach into a basket and retrieve a slip of paper sighting your grant to enter the emperor's castle, signed by the man himself. Course, it was never in person, but your business was important enough for him to sign off without question. The guard to your left nods in approval, stepping aside to let you in as the open the gates.

"All's good. Can you see if that old bastard is willing to share this time?

You smile. "I'll do my best."

-

Crossing the courtyard, you walk straight through the castle's open front door. The total family had enough pride in their guard to leave it open during the day. A lamp post falls behind you as you walk, but you think nothing of it as a passing maid picks it up. You venture down familiar paths, wish a fair morning to those you past, and make your way towards the infirmary. The door is slightly ajar; walls patted with white stone. Nearly every bed is empty except for the one at the very end of the second row. The patient moans from the confines of their bed, tossing and turning as best as their casts would allow.

"M..."

You quietly enter the room, unsure if the man was even awake. You set the basket down on the table beside him; his eyes fluttering open as you pull back the blanket covering its contents. The alluring smell of fresh baked and still cooling treats has the patient wide awake and fighting to sit up right.

"Y/n, my dear. Is that you?"

"Yes, sir. Brought your favorite as always." You help the aging man up and with grabbing one of the baked goods. A raspberry muffin - the general's favorite. He stopped by your bakery every morning for one before heading to the castle, this route broken by a broken leg and fractured ribs from an ambush of thieves. Since he refused the sorcerer's magic, he had to heal the normal way and was unable to stop by. Feeling pity for the man, you wake up bright and early every morning to do it for him.

The general wolfs down the muffin in a flash, reaching for another with a full mouth. "Thank you again for your assistance. Had I noticed a second earlier, those fools wouldn't have known what hit them."

You hold down a laugh. "You've told me this before. Everytime I've came if my memory serves me right."

Your deliveries have been going on for a few weeks by now. You'd grown used to the long walk, and had the additional bonus of getting to see the inside of the castle yourself. You didn't want to find your own benefit out of this horrible situation, but this was the chance of a lifetime for you. The servants were quite friendly, and while you had never seen the emperor everyone described him as fair. Unbeknownst to you, however, he had seen you.

-

The emperor watches you from the crack in the door, labored breathes heating its lock. His hands were sweat; throat dry. A blush dusts the man's cheeks; fingers edging towards the doorknob.

When he first heard you, the emperor wrote you off as the general's child, or even a young partner as unsettling as the thought was. He signed off on your visitations without batting an eye just to get that old coot to stop complaining. The first time he actually saw you - he knew he was in love.

The poor emperor had little experience in the field, but upon laying eyes on you that was the best way to describe the flame in the pit of his stomach. You were stunning, and the light of the early sun brought your natural beauty out like no other. He fell deeper in love with every new thing he found out about you. Your voice, your occupation, your name. He absolutely had to have you - but he was afraid.

Such a gem like you would never go for someone like him even if it was crown ruler of yourkingdom. He fear spilling all the desire in his chest from just saying hello to you. No, he must steel himself. A proper leader walks into situations with their head held high - no matter how badly their legs trembled just by looking at the problem ahead. Today was the day he would finally meet you or he'd cast himself into the nearest well for missing the opportunity again.

The turn of the doorknob catches both the general's and your attention. Surprise crosses your face at the sight of the visitor, while the general merely slumps back against his pillow. The emperor was his most common guest, always asking on and on about you. He always wondered if he would show his face.

"Y-your highness! Good morning." You dip your head in a formal greeting for your king. The emperor's flush darkens. Having you bow to him felt like an angel kneeling to a sinner. Wrong, but a boost in confidence for the latter party.

"There's no need for that. I've... just come to see how my valued general is doing. Who might you be and what is your business here?"

"Y/n. The general is a dear friend of mine as well, and I have been bringing him treats to help with his recovery."

The emperor's expression darkens at the use of the word "friend", but it passes quickly as he replays your name in his head. It's one that's run over his tongue countless times, but to hear you say it too him made it sound even more enchanting.

"I see. I was wondering where he got all those sweets. I haven’t eaten breakfast myself.. Do you mind if I try one?

With the question thrown into the air, you look towards the general for an answer. He simply shrugs. Seeing that that the best you'll get, you retrieve a muffin from the basket and offer it to the emperor. You worry you took the worry approach as he's hesitant to take it, but who would be reluctant to accept a gift from a God as unworthy mortal? He finally takes it, sparks shooting up his arm as your fingers graze together.

The emperor takes a bit of the sweet. Its still a bit warm, and melts on his tongue as he chews. The cake has a nice, soft texture; blending well with the fruity aftermath of the raspberries. Despite having just finished breakfast, he greedy scarfs it down and licks the crumbs from his fingers. That was the best muffin he had ever tasted. He could feel the passion and love for the craft that you poured into each step of the process. The emperor feels tears burning at the corners of his eyes; overcome with bliss.

"That was... amazing."

"I'm happy you enjoyed it, your highness." You beam. "Unfortunately, I have to leave soon so I can open my bakery in time for the morning rush."

The emperor's spirits crash instantly. "Why the rush? The day is still young."

"That is true, but my shop and home are on the far end of the town."

He's taken aback by this. Such a distance and you cross it everyday for a useless man like the general? You truly were a saint. The emperor would allow you to suffer that journey no longer; for your own comfort and the self pleasure of having you close.

"That's insanity. Why don't I hire you to become the royal baker? I can pay you well. Five time more than what you make in a normal week."

"While the offer is nice, I have a lot of people depending on me for goods and there's still the fact my home is in the same location."

The emperor immediately backtracks; his anxieties bubbles to the surface as he stammers. "Erm- well, we can have people deliver to your shop, and find residence closer or even in the castle if you'd prefer."

You can have his bedroom if you wanted it. You think the offer over, smiling as you come to your conclusion."

"Okay."

-

The following day, all of your belongings were moved into a cabin still on the castle grounds, and you were appointed as royal baker. It's funny to think how your life changed so quickly. The move is a dream come true for you both, as the emperor now gets to wake up everyday and see you busy at work. When he didn't have his own duties to attend to, he was hovering over you while you worked away. There's nothing he wouldn’t give to be able to massage your sore joints after a hard day at work.

The emperor had your own kitchen built away from the main, but until it was complete you worked there as well. You hardly saw anyone during your time there, and few people talked to you. One particular nasty chef got on your case about you using what they considered to be their whisk, but you never saw them again after the encounter.

The emperor claimed he didn't have any favorites as all of your creations had their own charms, but you noticed how his eyes would light up more whenever you brought him custard tarts. He practically drools onto your shoulder whenever he sees you with the ingredients for them. Wishing to develop your relationship with him further, you offer to teach him how to do with which he eagerly accepts.

"L-like this, Y/n?"

The emperor cracks an egg against the side of the bowl, separating the yolk and the whites between the shells. His hands shake, feeling your eyes over his shoulder. He wanted to do his best for you despite how trivial the task was, and that notion is what let to his downfall. He pushes a little too hard on one half of the shell as he concentrates, breaking it in the palm of his hand.

"Ack!- I'm so sorry!"

"It's okay! It okay." You sooth. You had picked up on the emperor's softer side and his strange need for your approval your first week on the job. You grab a stray towel and clean his hands off for him. The emperor thought he had his emotions under control by now, but your touch throws that balance out the window. He shutters from your warmth, afar cry from the man that banished a servant for just talking to you not even a day prior. Your body draws close to his as you remove all of the yolk, and all he can think about is how soft your lips must be.

The emperor keeps that little ounce of control. He would sooner kiss the bottom of your shoe than go for that at this moment in time - might even prefer it if no one's around. How could he ask your hand someday if he got worked up for something so miniscule. You really did had this man wrapped around your pinky finger - and without even realizing.

Once you finish cleaning up, you have the emperor sits this one out. He still wonders behind you, uttering praises for everything little thing you did. It was only the surface level of how deep his devotion and loyalty for you truly went.

[kaelio]

Full article:

Russia’s invasion of Ukraine has cost it dearly on many fronts, but especially when it comes to casualties. Since the first days of the war, the invaders have been bleeding manpower. Plugging those holes became one of the tasks of the Wagner Group, the mercenary company with close ties to the Russian state. Its founder, Russian President Vladimir Putin’s close ally Yevgeny Prigozhin, began to actively and sometimes forcibly recruit from the country’s prisons, offering convicts the chance of freedom in return for service. The Russian army has gone on to follow that model itself.  

With those recruitments have come a whole series of subcultural notions that are shaping the lives of soldiers and the conduct of the war—but which are often ignored or overlooked by Western analysts. The power of Russia’s criminal culture, known as the “thieves’ world,” is not new. Prigozhin himself, like a surprising number of players in Putin’s world, is a former convict—because the men who profited most in the chaos of the 1990s were very often outright criminals. But the invasion of Ukraine has made these notions even more prominent, and understanding them all the more important.

On April 9, Prigozhin’s press service posted a response on Telegram to a question about the state of prison recruitment that had been sent to the Glas Naroda (Voice of the People) news site—one of the many parts of his media empire. In response, Prigozhin had some harsh criticism toward how prisoners are treated by the state authorities: “There are rumors of roosters, downcast and resentful prisoners fighting together with ordinary prisoners, which violates their [the prisoners’] internal laws, so-called unspoken rules, in a flagrant way. Everyone knows that Russia has been living by these rules, by a certain way of life for centuries, and therefore it seems to me that such situations are absolutely unacceptable.”

From the outside, Prigozhin’s statement seems incomprehensible. But in the world of Russia’s prison culture, where brutally imposed caste systems govern life and death, his statement makes perfect sense. The thieves’ culture is a set of rules, modes of action, and a strict social hierarchy that regulates everyday life among those in the criminal underground. It is especially focused on organizing the life of inmates in the many prisons and camps, known as “zones,” of Russia and other former Soviet countries. While traces of it existed even under the tsars, the system was largely forged in the vast gulags of the Soviet Union, the network of camps that formed almost a separate country inside Soviet borders.

The thieves’ culture gets its name from the ruling class, the “lawful thieves” who enforce the thieves’ law—an unwritten set of rules called ponyatiya, literally translated as “concepts” or “notions.” These rules include positive recommendations on how a “proper criminal” should act, harsh prohibitions on various actions with corresponding punishments, as well as a basis for how the social hierarchy in prisons should be organized. All this is described in jargon that, even for ordinary Russians, is hard to understand. For instance, the prisons themselves are measured on a scale from blackness to redness—those prisons where everyday life is mostly organized by the criminal authorities are called “black,” and the prisons where the unspoken rules and thieves’ culture are being actively suppressed and everyday life is in the control of the prison administration are considered “red.” Very few prisons are entirely one way or the other, of course, so arguments about whether a particular institution is red or black are commonplace—and baffling to outsiders.

The unspoken rules enforce a harsh hierarchy, one that serves the interests of the men on top—and sometimes of authorities who see it as a way to help keep prisoners under control. There are four basic groups of prisoners, known as “suits,” as if they were a deck of cards. This is essentially a caste system; it is extremely hard to move up, extremely easy to move down, and fear of degradation governs every social interaction. Of course, each suit, like any caste system, has many detailed subdivisions, branches, and complex substructures, but at the basic level, they are the following: blatniye (thieves), muzhiki (men), kozliy (billy goats), and petukhi (roosters).

Blatniye are the criminal authorities. They are career criminals—thieves and those who have chosen to embrace the rules and live by them full time. They are few in number but hold a lot of power and influence. Among them, the lawful thieves or thieves-in-law are a special subcategory, the equivalent of a mafia don or a yakuza elder. Their word is literally law in the criminal underworld—and they are bound only to the ponyatiya themselves, which they also have the power to change in specially organized gatherings.

Men and billy goats make up the “middle class” of this hierarchy. Men are those who just want to serve their terms with no fuss, but who are also informed about these prison laws, who pay respects to the notions, listen to the blatniye, and most importantly, do not cooperate in any way or form with the prison administration, even when it comes to, say, kitchen or library duties.

Billy goats are inmates who participate in formal prison structures, and are willing to work with the prison authorities but also pay some respect to the criminal ones. The people who run the black market inside a prison, who can get you cigarettes, drugs, gaming consoles, or whatever else, are also in the billy goat caste—but they’re obviously left alone and respected as long as they pay their tax into the common pool for the blatniye to use as they please. There is a subsection of those people, called “activists,” who are lower in the hierarchy and try to hide their position. Those are the billy goats who actively try to cooperate with the administration for extra benefits, which often are more than just being released on parole. In black prisons they’re hated like snitches are in U.S. prisons, whereas in extremely red ones, they often take positions that a blatniye would take otherwise.

The lowest caste, and the one that every prisoner fears degradation to, are the roosters, also known as the “offended,” the “pederasts,” or the “downcast.” That is a position to which it is extremely easy to fall down to, but one that you can never climb up from. They’re forced to do all the worst jobs—such as cleaning the cell’s latrine, washing everyone’s underwear—because no, your average Russian prison does not have any washing machines—and often serving as sexual slaves. They also get the worst sleeping spots in the cell, usually next to the latrine.

A rooster is untouchable outside of sex. One is not allowed to share anything with a rooster except as a payment for services—not only is it taboo to touch them, but also anything that they have touched, as that instantly moves one to their caste. Their kitchenware is explicitly marked as such, for one, and whenever transferring cells, they’re supposed to publicly announce their suit status and move in with “their own” accordingly. There is also an extensive list of other infractions that can instantly move one into this caste, far too long for me to list here. Many of those are linked to a toxic sense of masculinity. Gay and transgender prisoners are automatically placed among the roosters, but so are those who foolishly admit to having given oral sex to a woman—an act that, as among the ancient Romans or the modern Italian mafia, is seen as fundamentally impure.

The only interactions allowed between higher-caste prisoners and roosters are purchasing sexual services from them, raping them (my personal sources say that this was completely acceptable up until approximately 2010, but that currently, although it won’t make you a rooster, it is considered to be a minor infraction with a material fine attached to it), and beating them up—but only with kicks or using improvised weapons, as even the touch of a punch is still considered taboo. It might seem bizarre that a man who rapes another man is not seen as impure, but his victim is—but it harks back to a sense of sexual dominance found in prison cultures and reactionary machismo worldwide. A rooster’s status is truly miserable. It’s driven many people to suicide and made people so miserable that they used to rebel and intentionally touch blatniye inmates as a last attempt of revenge—sure, they would be instantly killed by other inmates, but the prisoner who previously belonged to the higher caste would instantly be a rooster inside the prison system and out, and would never be able to move upwards in the hierarchy.

These notions, especially the revulsion against LGBTQ people, are powerful in Russian mainstream culture as well. Take the ex-liberal, now extremely pro-war and pro-Putin Russian journalist Anton Krasovsky, who was thrown out of the Donbas under threats of violence because he’s also openly gay. He’s the kind of gay man who agrees with the Kremlin’s stance of “traditional values” and believes that “gay cure” procedures should be mandatory, but nonetheless, he reported that he’s received messages that he’s not welcome there although he completely supports the Russian side in the war. Those messages included people stating he couldn’t even dig trenches, because the shovels he used would have to be burnt afterward.

In his post on Telegram, then, Prigozhin was making it clear that there was no redemption from prison caste even when fighting for the nation—and that the caste mixing was an active threat to morale. It might seem bizarre to stick to such prejudices given Russia’s dire need for manpower, but the laws of the underworld can’t be cast aside that easily.

This isn’t Prigozhin’s only extolment of the virtues of the thieves’ law. In a leaked video from the Feb. 21 this year, where he’s giving a recruitment speech to inmates, he explains the “working conditions” in the Wagner Group. He notes, “We need criminal talent. I did 10 years myself before becoming a hero of Russia,” letting the potential recruits know that Wagner Group is being run according to the thieves’ law. “We don’t take any kind of the offended, the downcast, and so on—we respect all the unwritten rules.” Prigozhin says that those who are in prison for drugs are “taken care of.” Violence, on the other hand, puts you on the top of the hierarchy. The desirable charges are murder, grievous bodily harm, robbery, and armed robbery. He especially notes that “If you beat up  the administration or the cops, that’s even better.”

In another cruel example, Wagner Group recruits who are suffering from HIV, hepatitis, and other hard-to-cure illnesses, who have been enticed with the promise of a cure should they survive, are made to wear specific wristbands that mark them as “impure” in an attempt to not “taint” others. And, as reported by Ukrainska Pravda, “according to the [Ukrainian] intelligence, the fighters are becoming angry about this situation. Russian medics are known to routinely refuse to treat injured [soldiers] with hepatitis or HIV.”

None of this makes for good soldiers, and it’s already having serious consequences in Russian society. Organized violence is both physically and mentally demanding. A sense of camaraderie among the soldiers and respect, or at least obedience, for officers is vital. The Wagner Group operates on a different culture—one where such mutual respect and military tradition does not exist, and obeying formal superiors is literally taboo for the highest castes of prisoners. Nor can the dead be respected—after all, they might be roosters. Because of these prison laws and hierarchy, soldiers in the Wagner Group are not encouraged to bond; instead, they’re treated as expendable and sent as a human wave into the  “meat grinder.”

Extreme violence—like the shocking sledgehammer execution of a Wagner recruit who tried to defect to Ukraine—is used to keep soldiers in check. As Prigozhin commented about that event: “A dog’s death for a dog.” And while this does keep the prisoner recruits under some control and can achieve limited results, it also has made the Wagner Group tactically inflexible and predictable. Once Ukrainian defenders of Bakhmut understood that these blunt, straightforward assaults were the only thing that Wagner forces would ever do, the Ukrainians adapted and improved, eventually negating the costly gains that Prigozhin’s private army had made.

The normalization of prison culture may be contributing to the brutalization of the Russian army and its war crimes in Ukraine—but it’s also affecting the home front. Many of the prisoner recruits return home with a full pardon after serving out the six months they’re contracted for, often having served a tiny fraction of their sentence. Wagner specifically looked for violent criminals—who usually have long sentences. Already, the crimes of these returning Wagner soldiers are piling up, and analysts and Russian opposition politicians, such as Mikhail Khodorkosky, are warning against the return of the violence of the 1990s, when crime soared. Lawful thieves, prison laws, and ponyatiya in general are surging again, as the country is once again criminalizing itself to the point of gang wars, but this time, with military-grade armaments. Yet the Western press has largely missed most of this. The reports of Prigozhin’s comments, such as this UPI wire, entirely skipped it over. The lede simply states: “Yevgeny Prigozhin, the founder of Russia’s Wagner Group, said Sunday that the mercenary group “acted honestly” by hiring prisoners to fight in Ukraine as he branded the convicts “heroes.”

In an April 10 report from the Institute for the Study of War, the ponyatiya are entirely ignored. Instead, it mentions only “Prigozhin insinuated that the Russian MoD [Ministry of Defense] would treat convicts worse than Wagner treated them to further advertise recruitment into Wagner and discredit the MoD’s recruitment efforts. The insinuation seems odd given that Wagner reportedly used convicts in human wave attacks that cost thousands of them their lives.” That misses the point entirely. Prigozhin isn’t talking about regular treatment, but about the deeply embedded caste notions—and under those, being degraded to a rooster is far worse than death.

While Prigozhin frequently uses the language of thieves , Putin avoids explicitly stating the rules, but nevertheless hints that he sticks to them himself. Putin was a KGB agent, of the organization that jailed many “thieves” back in Soviet days, and never a convict himself. However, he has long-standing ties to Russian organized crime—most notably through the Cooperative Ozero, which was founded as a dacha cooperative in November 1996 by Putin and his friends and has since grown to a powerful group, bonding together oligarchs and more conventional criminal activities.

Putin’s emphasis on supposedly traditional Russian values also implicitly includes the laws of the prison—especially when it comes to macho behavior and sexual purity. The Russian state’s homophobia can’t be understood without recognizing the sadism of a caste system that sees raping men as normal but loving them as degrading. Maxim Katz, a prominent Russian opposition journalist and politician currently living in Israel, told me that the ponyatiya are important to understand Putin and the Russian political elite in general. But he said  that “it is not the criminal authorities’ notions of the Russian prison that reign in the Russian security services, but their ersatz version.

Chekists, especially retired Chekists [a term for former KGB officers such as Putin, referring to the old Soviet secret police service], like to copy the style of behavior of high-ranking criminals. But for these criminals themselves, the Chekists are second-rate people, frankly not even people. The moment an employee of the ‘office’—current or former—is taken to a detention facility, he is immediately relegated to a lower caste and never gets beyond the latrine.

“Putin’s criminal behavior is more the case of a boy from an educated family trying to imitate the behavior of school bullies—but never quite becoming one of them. The Russian criminal world distinguishes between the blatniye and the ‘trash’ very clearly; the trash can try all they want to mimic this world, but they will always be subhuman to it, and their rhetoric is cheap cosplay, not true adherence to ‘the notions,’ since the notion is to kill them on the spot.” Putin may only be playing at the rules, but the criminal world takes them very seriously. So too should Western analysts striving to understand the actions of Russian troops, especially Wagner’s, in Ukraine, and the kind of culture that will become even more prominent back in Moscow and St. Petersburg when they return from the war.    

Kristaps Andrejsons is a journalist in Latvia and the creator of The Eastern Border podcast on the USSR and modern Eastern European politics.

[resovrceful]

— RUBY O. FEE in ARMY OF THIEVES (2021)

By clicking the source link, you will find #157 gifs of RUBY O. FEE as ‘KORINA DOMINGUEZ’ in the 2021 film ARMY OF THIEVES. All gifs were hand made with love by me, @resovrceful​ , are all sized 268x151, and are all within tumblr’s maximum limit. 

All members of my server gain early access to gifpacks. Please do like and/or reblog if you found this at all useful, and if you’re feeling even more generous please consider buying me a coffee.

About: RUBY O. FEE was born in 1996, is FEMALE and is PUERTO RICAN AND GERMAN. Please cast her accordingly. Gifs Feature: Guz Khan, Matthias Schweighöfer, Nathalie Emmanuel, Stuart Martin. Warnings/Triggers/Other: flashing lights, guns.

[the-bar-sinister]

Bleeding, Broken, Mended (44059 words) by VickytheSnake, thesavagesabretooth Chapters: 8/?

Summary: Law is certain that he was 'rescued' just so Doflamingo could kill him himself, but Doffy has other plans. As far as he's concerned, Law's decade-long quest for revenge was nothing more than a sad misunderstanding. He wants to remind Law how things used to be. He wants to find a way to bring Law back into the fold-- back to him-- forever.

catch up here

-

"So how did you and Law meet, if you don't mind my asking?" Doffy regarded the bear mink with curiosity as they paced through the corridors of the ship. Bepo had been silent thus far, but Doffy needed a distraction from his nagging anxiety about the 'chat' between Trebol and Law, and his worry that he might feel a tug at the string he'd left on Law at any moment.

Bepo looked up at him with an unreadable expression, and shrugged. "We met when we were kids. He rescued me when I was being… bullied."

"Bullied, right," Doffy nodded. It sounded like 'bullied' might be a soft word for 'attacked'. He had a hunch the reason, too, if he knew people. "What were you being bullied for?"

"For being a bear."

The expected answer. Human nature was all too predictable. Reject and destroy the 'other'. Put those who are lower than you in their 'place' to stay comfortable in your own position.

"I hope you know no one in my family is going to bully you for something like that."

Doffy's whole family was made up of the low, the wretched, the broken; the reviled who had been rejected by society, or who had rejected society themselves. He gathered them all into his arms and raised them up; his beloved army of the damned serving their king the fallen saint. 

The 'heavenly demon' they called him— and he was. He knew first hand how fragile one's 'place' in the world was, and he got a sick, thrilling satisfaction out of thumbing his nose at his former peers by raising the wretched and low up above their 'station'. His royal blood had cast him out into the gutter to die, so he had made royals instead out of urchins and thieves.

A bear would fit right in.

"I know you're trying to get Law to come back to your crew. Or family. Whatever."

He chuckled. So Law had already told his surviving crewmates— or at least this one— about his proposal. Well, he hadn't expected him to keep it a secret.

"And what do you think of that?"

Bepo regarded him with another inscrutable look, his ears flattened. "I'm reserving judgment for now. But I trust my captain. I'd follow him to the bottom of the sea."

Doffy smiled very widely. "You're a loyal person. I admire that very much, and I'm sure Law appreciates it."

"Law's amazing," Bepo said, pausing mid stride to stare intently at Doflamingo. "And I am loyal. Which is why if he says we follow you, we follow you. And if he says you die, you die."

"I'll keep that in mind." He felt a laugh burst deep from his chest, and as he caught his breath he followed the sensation of the slim silvery thread from its origin point to its terminus. He could feel it wrapped around Law's warm wrist. 

He admitted to Bepo, "I'm hoping there won't be any more bloodshed between us."

-

Bepo had a sour feeling in his stomach when he arrived with Doflamingo into the crowded galley where the rest of 'the family' was lingering over the dregs of coffee and the last scraps of breakfast. 

He stood back, listening while Doflamingo was telling the motley assortment of pirates that there would be a meeting soon, and that Law would be in attendance. He did notice that they were being instructed to 'be respectful– or at least restrain any hostility'. 

Doflamingo wagged a finger at them. "I'm asking you this as your beloved young master, okay? There is a chance that Law might be coming back to the family, and if he does, I want you to accept him."

There were a variety of reactions, some of them shocked, or apparently irritated, but no one directly contradicted the 'young master'. Bepo caught Komurasaki's eye– she was seated at the table next to that other girl, Baby 5– but he couldn't tell what she was thinking, or if she'd known about Doflamingo's intention before now. Her expression was completely composed.

Bepo, meanwhile, felt like he was walking on quicksand. He'd been worried about Law since the warlord plan and Punk Hazard. He'd been on suicide watch on him since after Dressrosa. Bepo had always suspected that Law had no plans to live past the enactment of his revenge in Cora's name, and he was pretty sure when they met back up afterward that the only thing that had stopped his captain from slipping away already was Straw Hat's influence, for which Bepo was grateful.

But even right away, Bepo had been able to see the cracks. Law was a man who had lived only for one purpose, for blood and revenge, and that purpose was gone.

When the ship had gone down, when they had lost the crew, Bepo had fully expected to have to physically stop Law from throwing himself right back in the ocean with the rest of the Heart Pirates if he got the chance. 

He wouldn't have even been able to blame him for trying. The loss of their crew, the people they'd spent the last decade of their lives with, was devastating. Bepo couldn't even properly grapple with it. He felt numb and confused. Bepo had never been as close with the rest of the crew as he had been with Law, but they were still people he knew. He kept expecting to turn around and hear Shachi making obnoxious bear puns at him.

But instead they were here. Among people that Bepo had never met, and only known as enemies for as long as he'd known Law. Enemies who had admittedly so far been entirely pleasant enough to be around. 

Enemies who wanted Law to join them.

And he was pretty sure that Law was actually, seriously considering it. 

Bepo wasn't sure he was going to try to stop him. Hell. He was pretty sure the only alternative involved watching Law for the rest of his life to make sure he didn't pitch himself into the sea, until he was so tired of watching he was ready to join him. Even if they did end up joining up with the Straw Hats, or the Kid Pirates or something.

All of the fight, and drive and direction had gone out of Law after Dressrosa. Bepo hadn't expected the person to help him with that might be the same one he'd had spent a decade with Law trying to destroy— but he was willing to concede after everything he'd heard, that made there was a chance he would be. It was an insane idea, but the situation they were in was insane. 

He didn't know what other kind of chance they had. So he'd do what he always had. Follow his captain's lead, and help him keep his head above water. No matter what.

-

After Doffy's announcement the family broke up into little clusters in and around the galley, no one wanting to go very far before the meeting began. Doffy himself got pulled aside by Violet. Baby 5 meanwhile had Bepo looming over her; the bear mink having shuffled over presumably to talk to Komurasaki. 

Baby 5 had to lean her head back to look up at him, her eyes wide under the sideswept bangs of her hair. "Wa–hey there, big guy." she grinned up at him as she poked her meal around with her fork.

She'd sat by Komurasaki pretty much instantly, the two of them having come from Baby's cabin together where she'd been staying and chattering sleepily back and forth till breakfast and coffee woke them up enough to function.

What started as curiosity about the girl from Wano was swiftly starting to spiral into a sort of attachment that Baby 5 was …somewhat…familiar with. Doffy's sudden announcement interrupted one of Baby 5's stories, a tale about the first assassination gig she ever succeeded in, and stopped her and everyone else in their tracks.

Law was going to be attending the family meeting, just like old times. It wasn't official but…it sounded like there was a chance the traitor had seen the light and decided to come home. Baby was too dumbstruck to say a word as she overheard some of the other reactions explode around her.

Sugar curled into herself, and Baby 5 overheard her murmuring what sounded like a soft , one sided conversation to herself, overhearing the name 'Monet'. Derringer had cackled, loudly wondering why they couldn't get it out of their system with a fight, only to be scooped into a calming hug by a pensive seeming Giolla.

And Baby 5 stared into space until Bepo's shadow loomed in her view enough to draw her attention up to him.

Komurasaki tilted her head up like Baby 5 and smiled at Bepo. "Good morning. Can I ask where Law is?"

"He's with one of the leaders. Trebol, I think?" the bear said softly. He hesitated a moment and the Baby 5 watched him grab one of the few remaining slices of toast from the table and cover it with jam.

Baby 5 stretched in her seat with a laugh. "If he's with Tre, he's in good hands. Trebol's probably givin' him a lecture or something. Law used to get lectures from him all the time, like the pain in the ass he is."

Or drowning him in glue, but the way Doffy was acting…it was probably just the former. 

Komurasaki cocked her head. "Oh, lectures? I'm curious about what kind."

If she was curious about the development Doffy had spoken about— about Law possibly returning to the family, she didn't show it. She seemed like she was always composed, even the night before when she'd been laughing at Baby 5's gossip and old stories.

"All kinds of lectures. Trebol kinda worked as our schoolteacher when we were kids, you know? He taught us math, how to read…how to cheat and kill, the basics of economy and all sorts of stuff. But Law always slacked off so he'd get the ol' Trebol lectures constantly."

She snickered raspilly, pouring herself more coffee. "Law! You're too reckless! Law you're going to get yourself killed! Law, if you want to make something of yourself in the family you'd…and on and on and on." 

"His schooling sounds a little like mine, on reflection," Komurasaki laughed softly. "I also learned similar skills."

"Huh." Bepo had finished his toast and was licking jam off his claws. Strangely enough, Baby 5 found the bear mink easier to read than Komurasaki was. He seemed troubled.

"Not surprising to me, Saki! I mean, you grew up in the underground too. Makes sense the skillsets are more or less the same." She turned her attention to Bepo. "...you worried, Beps?" 

Bepo looked down at her with surprise, as if he'd been caught at something. "No?" It seemed more like a question than an answer. "What would I be worried about?"

"The family meeting, maybe? Law getting lectured to death? Being surrounded by a bunch of half-insane gangsters?" Baby 5 counted off her fingertips. "My jokes. Any number of things." 

"I guess," the bear grumbled. "I hope you don't mind me saying but this whole thing is weird."

Baby 5 leaned back, her chair tipping on two legs as she picked her teeth with the tip of a knife that had previously been her forefinger. 

"I mean, I'm gonna be honest, Beps. It's weird for us too. We were pretty sure none of us would ever see Law again...and if we DID he'd have just replaced our heads with bombs or something and killed us all." 

"Yeah." Bepo nodded. He seemed to be eying another slice of toast. "I mean, that's kind of what I expected, too. But, this isn't like I imagined at all. Law… I don't think he even wanted us to ever meet you all, even in combat."

Baby reached out and scooped a piece, one of the last, before offering it to him with a sharp huff of breath. 

"...he was probably worried you guys would have sense and see that we ain't the demons he liked to make us out to be. When he came back, we were all happy to see him until …" Her jaw set, and she glowered at the table. "---until he spit in our faces and tried to tear the family apart." 

Bepo quietly took the toast from her, covering it with jam again as he grumbled. "I don't want to speak for the captain, but… he seems like he doesn't really like how things went with that."

Komurasaki glanced at him. "Is he really considering…" she motioned around the table.

Bepo shrugged. "I don't want to speak for the captain."

Baby 5 bit her lip, leaning on her hands with a thoughtful frown written on her face. Law—she hadn't even gotten the chance to really talk with him again. Law, her peer, her friend— the man everyone joked would be the one person Doflamingo wouldn't have killed for trying to marry her.

She was furious with him, but at the same time…at the same time she couldn't stop herself from hoping that it was true. Maybe Law would come home again, and everything would go back to the way it used to be. 

-

After his little announcement, Violet had pulled Doffy off into a corner and he had let her do it, despite part of him wanting to linger and listen to the reactions of everyone at the breakfast table. It was probably better not to worry about it for now though. He was already worrying about what would happen if he felt a tug on the string he'd left on Law. He didn't need to split his concentration too much. Not with the hangover still lingering.

He needed more coffee.

He leaned on the arch of the doorway between the galley and the corridor, hands in his pockets, and grinned at Violet. "What's the word, Vi?"

Violet smiled up at him, half leaned against his chest as she waved her hand. "Oh, quite a lot. I've managed to pick up quite a few tidbits almost as interesting as what's happening here with Trafalgar." 

"Almost, eh? I have to admit, I'm curious about your thoughts on that."

Violet had been one of the few family members who hadn't protested when Doffy had fished Law and company out of the sea, and that was no real surprise. Not only had Vi joined them after Law had been long gone— there was no betrayal to sting— but Violet herself had been in a similar position not long ago. When Law had shaken up Dressrosa, Vi had enacted her own betrayal and nearly left the family in the lurch.

But she'd come back. She had come back. Even though her 'side'--- her blood family— had won, she had ultimately chosen the Donquixote family instead.

She smiled at him, that same subtle and mysterious smile she often wore when she was playing around with little secrets of her own. She leaned a little more firmly against his chest as she purred. 

"I'm thinking of starting a betting pool on how long it takes Law to crack and join up again. I may have taken a little peek inside his mind…I think I could walk away with the pot on this one." She chuckled, low and alluringly sonorous. "...I think it's interesting to note how even us wretched traitors can't seem to stay away."

Doffy put his arm around her shoulders and chuckled. "It's the 'evil charisma'," he said, parroting a news article from back in the day that the family had passed around for a while. "You looked into his mind, though? Naughty Vi— do I get a preview?"

Violet's power was unsettling sometimes, knowing she could see straight through him. Straight through anyone. Into his mind. Into his heart. When he'd faced her that day in Dressrosa, when she'd turned on him, he thought she must have seen something there that disgusted her. That she must have been disgusted with him the entire time she'd known him. That he'd been a fool to allow her into his family instead of having her shot as a menace.

But she had come back.

Her arms looped around his hips. 

"If you ask nicely, I'd be happy to share, Doffy."

Her smile was angelic…but she was anything but. 'Twisted by her devil fruit', she'd said once to him, during a late night drinking and talking about power. Maybe that had been why she couldn't really leave. 

Twisted by the devil fruit. Maybe being able to know so much could drive you mad. The idea of knowing exactly what Law was thinking was too much.

"Just tell me if he's actually considering it. Please."

"Strongly," she purred up at him with a wink, her dark hair half fallen in her face. "...when I start the betting pool I'm going to surprise everyone with my dark horse bet on exactly how long it'll be." 

Doflamingo's stomach lurched and he felt the grin on his face widen involuntarily. Not if, but how long. Maybe it really was like he'd said to Vergo in the dark last night— Law wanted to come back. He just needed time to process.

"I'll keep myself out of the betting pool then," he giggled. He reached out and brushed her hair out of her face for her, tucking it behind her hair and adjusting her hair pin."Alright, we'd better talk about these less interesting things."

"A shame, I could gossip about this all night" Violet purred. "...first, the unruly lout Blackbeard has made it back to his home base." 

"Better for us than having him prowling all over the damned sea around here," Doffy grumbled. "He needs to be dealt with, soon."

When they got back to Cross Guild it was going to be one of the first things he brought up to Crocodile and the other. Blackbeard was clearly as much of a threat to all of them as he was to the Marines.

"Indeed…but it's a highly defended location. I know you're interested in taking him out for the good of Cross Guild, but unless we can substantially weaken him, he'll have the upper hand." Violet seemed to read his mind…maybe she did. Maybe she couldn't help it. "But for the moment he's not our problem." 

Doffy grimaced at the idea that they potentially had worse problems than Blackbeard. He had enough on his mind right now. Thinking of it, he mentally followed the sensation of the thread from his fingers to Law. It was still slack. Thankfully.

"Alright, what's our problem?"

"Not exactly a problem as much as a curiosity…" Violet put her finger to her lips. "Transponder snails the world over have been hijacked with a repeating signal. It's crossing the grand line to every sea, little by little, with an invitation to the island of Elegia and the channel of a homing beacon…"

She smiled wryly "...to see a concert by a musician named 'Uta'." 

Violet certainly didn't need her power to see the way that Doffy's mood abruptly shifted. His wary hesitation was immediately shoved aside by curious glee.

"You're kidding! An Uta concert?"

Maybe Doffy had a bearing to suggest at the meeting after all.

-

It was a miracle. Law was still reeling over how well the conversation with Trebol had gone. He'd gotten his powers back— he'd even made the man smile and laugh genuinely for the first time in over a decade.

That– that simple victory shouldn't have brought him as much joy as it did. He wouldn't examine that right now. As he rounded the corner he was surprised to see of all people, Viola…Violet. Violet and Doflamingo lingering in the doorway with her draped practically against him as she grinned up at him.

"Exciting, isn't it?" She said without taking her eyes off of Doflamingo. "...and hello Law. I see you and Trebol didn't kill one another."

"Somehow we didn't. Strange days, wouldn't you say, Violet?" Trebol chuckled. "He tried to murder me with his sass of course. But that's… forgivable."

Doflamingo grinned at Law from over Violet's head. He looked very pleased with himself. Like the cat that had gotten the canary. 

"Manners was never Law's strong suit, Trebol. I'm just glad that I didn't have to rush back from my conversation to play mediator."

Law felt an almost teasing tug on his wrist– and then the sensation of the thread vanished.

Violet chuckled warmly. "Very, very strange days. Not that I'm one to talk."

Law flushed, rubbing his wrist with a huff. "It's not like anyone ever taught me 'em. Manners, I mean. And I had to give the old man something, or he'd think you'd picked up the wrong guy."

Doffy laughed. "Law, I don't think there's any mistaking you. Now come on, let's get this meeting going before we waste the whole day."

They made their way into the galley where everyone was taking seats around the mostly empty table. He caught sight of Bepo and Komurasaki coming over from a sink full of dishes, along with Baby 5. Had his crewmen already been put to work by the Donquixote family, or were they just making conversation?

Aside from the two of them, the table was packed with faces he hadn't seen outside of combat for 13 years.

Diamante was there, smoking a habitual cigarette and finishing a cup of coffee. Pica was next to him, rolling a stone back and forth through his thick fingers. He was shorter, and leaner than he had been in Dressrosa, still clearly not having regained all the mass he'd shed in the aftermath of that battle. Giolla was there too, and Derringer, and Vergo. And Sugar.

There were some people missing…He couldn't help but wonder if they'd died, or simply fled when they thought the family was finished.

The sting of guilt rolled through him again, and Violet seemed to look at him knowingly for a moment before he dropped himself into a chair beside Bepo. For some reason Baby 5 intercepted the seat near Komurasaki before he could get there…and for some reason she stuck out her tongue like she'd won something.

The expressions around the table were mixed…from curious and amused from the likes of Derringer and Vergo, to Sugar's death glare…it was clear he was still a controversial guest at the table. 

Sugar. It was a good thing that Law would be able to resist her power with his haki, or he might really be in trouble, and none of the family, not even Doffy, would have been the wiser.

As Doflamingo sat down at the head of the table, and Trebol at his left, Bepo scooted his own chair closer to Law.

"You okay, captain?" he asked in a quiet voice that barely carried over the rest of the murmurs at the table.

Law nodded and whispered back as the family started their overtures of conversation. "...surprisingly, yeah. Trebol was pissed at me, but we worked it out. Convinced him that I wasn't gonna hurt Doflamingo again. He still thinks I'm a dumbass kid, though." 

"I heard he used to be your teacher."

Law chuckled softly "yeah…he was. He held a ridiculous little class where he taught us shit like how to manage a black market deal, and math. In the same day." Memories of that classroom came easy…Baby 5's constant attempts to be the best student in the room, Buffalo slacking off worse than him, Trebol's weird little laugh and his lectures of 'expectations'.

They were fonder than he anticipated.

At the head of the table, Doffy rested his chin on his hand. "Alright, fam— and guests— I'm sure you're all wondering what this meeting is about, and the answer is, our heading. We started this little journey hunting marine bounties, but I admit, we got a little sidetracked.

"You don't say!" Derringer called out above the chuckles and murmurs of agreement. "I've only ruined one pair of heels with marine blood!"

Law snorted softly. The kid really had turned out to be a delightful little psychopath, didn't he? Still…that was their goal huh? Out on the seas hunting marines.

"And what a shame, you brought so many," Doffy laughed, slapping the table lightly. "But I have a hunch where some more marines might show up soon, thanks to Vi here. And if they don't, there's a few good reasons to visit anyway."

Diamante chuckled. "You're winding us up, Doffy."

"Maybe a little."

Sugar turned her glare from Law for a moment to tilt her head at Doflamingo, her voice soft as always. "Is it one of the naval bases?"

Violet closed her eyes, smiling broadly. "Not quite. I happened to pick up some rather …fun…news." 

"Here's a surprise for you," Doffy giggled. "You all know Uta, right?"

There were mixed reactions of surprise and interest as Doflamingo announced that the destination he had in mind was… some kind of concert put on by a famous and reclusive singer. One that Doffy himself was apparently a fan of. The tone dials on his desk that Law had seen at dinner had been hers.

Sugar and Derringer seemed to be fans as well, having practically leapt out of their seats at the mention of her.

Giolla tilted her head to the side, laughing cheerfully "And here I thought she'd never show her face…she IS a famous recluse after all. I wonder what's drawn her into the light."

Law blinked, looking over at Bepo and Komurasaki before glancing back at Doflamingo. "...you're gonna steer us towards…some random singer's concert?"

"If it makes you more curious…Sir Crocodile and his contingent of Cross Guild swerved abruptly to visit. Makes me wonder just why a man like that's gotten interested." Violet raised her finger and spoke up.

Komurasaki– she looked merely bemused by the whole thing. Bepo on the other hand, was wide eyed, and Law almost immediately remembered why, as he leaned in and hissed a whisper to him.

"Captain, Uta's that singer I told you about."

"...the one who's been releasin' songs over transponder snail? The really bubbly sounding one that you played a bunch of times for me." Law glanced between Bepo and Doflamingo.

That, he had to admit, was a commonality he didn't expect between them. Being fans of the same weirdly mysterious musical artist. Bepo, it seemed, hadn't expected it either, and he glanced hesitantly at the smiling Doflamingo as well.

"Cross Guild will be there too," Doffy chuckled. "I never thought I'd see Croccy at a concert. Oh that reminds me, Law, you said you were headed to the end of the Grand Line before all this, didn't you?"

That certainly got some of the family's attention. All eyes were on Law again.

Law leaned on his hand, every set of eyes on him as he chuckled low under his breath. "Yeah. I am. I promised Straw Hat that we'd compete to see who got there first. We said we'd meet up there." 

"It's an open secret in Cross Guild that Buggy the Clown is trying to push Crocodile to do the same thing," Doffy said, leaning on his hand. "Interesting, don't you think?"

"...Buggy the fucking Clown wants to go to the end of the Grand Line?" Law snorted. "...you know what, I'll buy that. yeah, that's interesting as hell."

Sugar huffed. "He's strong. And people follow him." she murmured softly under her breath. "He'll probably succeed in convincing Crocodile." 

Law noticed Doffy glance over at Violet as he said, "I agree, I think it's only a question of when. So, with all that in mind, I think we should follow this mysterious signal. After all, we have three reasons for it. One, the marines might show up to shut down the party. Two, we regroup with Crocodile and find out if Buggy's got him by the balls yet. And three, if all else fails, it could be the concert of a lifetime."

Trebol waved a hand. "Far be it from me to cast doubt when the young master has a goal in mind." Law felt his gaze linger on him for a moment.

Law rubbed his neck, feeling the weight of the stares as he nodded. 

"I think that makes sense…it's a rally point if nothing else, and one that'll be pretty good for morale. I mean— I'm not exactly a fan or nothin'---but her music's interesting to say the least." 

Bepo gave him a wide polar bear smile in response to that.

But he was sure the question on everyone's mind was 'when is Law going to disembark'. "Hey, Doffy. What's your plan if Buggy HAS got him by the balls?" he continued. 

Doflamingo wagged a finger. "Well, you can bet your ass I'm not planning to let the rest of Cross Guild do something like that without me and mine involved. We wouldn't want to miss out, now would we?"

"Sail to the end of the Grand Line," Diamante said, puffing on his cigarette. "People've been talking about that since we were still kids, practically."

Vergo nodded, finally speaking up for the first time during the meeting. "sure have. It's a pretty crazy goal. Not gonna lie…been wondering what was out there, myself."

Giolla laughed, her hand covering her widely smiling lips. "it would make a one of a kind painting if we found our way there, wouldn't it?"

Law raised his eyebrow. "...so you'd be headed the same way I intended to head." 

Doffy smiled across the table at him, his chin resting on his hands, framed as always by the feathery bulk of his coat. "Sounds like we might be. Is that going to be a problem, Law?"

Baby 5 leaned over the table, pointing at him with a wicked grin plastered on her face. "It'd better not be a problem, 'Law D Water Trafalgar', unless the problem is you're worried we're gonna get there first!"

Law snorted softly "....sure, yeah, that's what I'm scared of Baby 5." 

At the mention of his full name, Law noticed Bepo watching Doflamingo intently. But Doffy… didn't really react at all. He just chuckled.

"Well, Law? Now's the time to raise an objection if there's going to be a problem. Even if you're a guest at the table, I'm curious to hear what you have to say."

Even if he was just a guest at the table. His lips twitched into a half smile. As if they didn't all already know what Doflamingo offered him. If he took it…if. He'd be more than just a guest with an opinion.

He noticed Violet smirking at him from across the table, one hand near her eye in a v-shape , the eye itself seeming to peer right through him.

"I think that works out nicely." he finally said. 

"Perfect," Doffy purred. "Then we'll lay in our course."

-

As the meeting broke up, Law found himself still somewhat the center of attention. Doffy himself had left the room with the executives; he could hear them talking outside briefly, but not what they were saying. A few of the others however, lingered and seemed to be trying to get his attention, or decide what to say.

Ever bold, Baby 5 was the first one to approach without hesitation. She sauntered right up and jabbed him in the chest with her fingertip. 

"You know, you've been hanging around this ship for three days and the most you've said to me was 'ooooh, helloo Baby 5.'. How's that for a greeting to your childhood best friend! Your girl next door!"

Law stared at her for a moment, and then half turned to try to slip away. Sadly, Sugar was in his path, staring him down with her good and doll-like eye, the other milky and visibly damaged as ever. 

Bepo and Komurasaki were flanking him from behind on either side, but he still felt trapped by the two girls.

"Oh dear," he heard Komurasaki mutter in a tone he was growing increasingly confident in identifying as masked enthusiasm.

He was also getting increasingly confident that Komurasaki was a woman who liked a good live drama. And the Donquixote Family was providing.

"I'm glad to see you. I don't know what you want me to say here, Baby...you've grown?" Law drawled. He glanced at Sugar, "and you haven't?"

Baby 5 puffed out her cheeks "Of course I've grown, idiot. It's been 13 damn years. I was SO excited to hear all about you when you were rampaging around the Grand Line— and then we see one another and you didn't even say hi?"

Sugar took a step forward, her hand half raised as she inched closer to him "...can't grow. Yet. Maybe after my awakening." 

"Captain?" Bepo asked softly, glancing back and forth between the two girls. "Uh…."

He was obviously trying to figure out what the plan was. Law was trapped between a rock and a hard place. Between his 'childhood friend'...one of his closest, he was forced to admit, and the sister of the girl he'd killed.

Was she trying to turn him into a toy? I wouldn't work. He'd fought off Doc Q's weird viruses, he could fight off Sugar's toy curse. "...don't worry, Bepo." he said tensely "they're just laying into me. I knew this was comin'." 

Komurasaki meanwhile had gotten distracted. Or maybe she was trying to distract Sugar for him. It was unclear. "You can't grow? Oh… is it because of a devil fruit?"

Sugar grabbed the hem of Law's coat, hanging onto it with a serious nod. She must have just been trying to keep a hold of him, rather than turn him into a toy— or Komurasaki had successfully distracted her.

"Uh huh," She murmured "I ate the Hobby-Hobby fruit. Let's me turn people into toys…but it turned me into one too. I'm a doll." She held up her arm, where the doll joint was visible at the elbow. "I can eat, I can sleep…but I can't grow. I'm 22 years old." 

"My goodness, I never would have guessed how close to the same age we are," Komursaki said sweetly. "You know there are probably lots of girls who would envy you. On Wano, it's considered very charming to look like a doll."

That sealed it— Komurasaki was running interference for him. Probably.

Bepo meanwhile looked between Baby 5 and Law, again, still unsure what to make of the situation despite his reassurances.

"Charming to look like a doll…" Sugar tilted her head to the side. "do you want to look like one, then?" 

"Me? Not particularly, but let me tell you about this Oiran I knew in Wano…"

Baby 5 prodded Law's side with her fingertip again, huffing. "why's Bepo look like he's about to pick you up and run? Law…I MISSED you , moron. And then when you came back what happened?"

"I stabbed you all in the back and self-destructed," Law drawled. "..look…Baby. Baby 5. I didn't wanna hurt you, I'm sorry." 

Bepo once again looked between the two of them.

"We almost died, Law," Baby chided, "Your little stunt nearly got the survivors sent to Impel Down to be tortured to death. And on top of that you…"

He glanced at Bepo with a weary smile, before it softened as he glanced at Baby 5. "I know, Baby…and you can ask Doffy, you can ask Trebol…I feel like shit over it. And I am sorry, I can't make excuses but I can try and make it up to you, okay?" 

Sugar tugged his coat, her expression strange for a moment. 

Komurasaki had paused in her little story, also watching and listening to the scene, albeit with possibly less worry and more curiosity than Bepo.

Law's brow furrowed as he looked in her cloudy eyes. There was an expression in there that was more …recently familiar…than he expected to see. 

It reminds me of Monet. But they're sisters, of course the–no, well…they're sisters by circumstance, not blood.

"You've got a lot to make up for, 'Traffy'," she started, giving Law a start when she used Luffy's nickname for him. Had she ever heard it? Had she seen him in Dressrosa? His brow furrowed as she continued in her deadpan voice, "...but I think you'll manage it. Welcome home." 

[justforbooks]

The career of the actor Andre Braugher, who has died of lung cancer aged 61, was benchmarked by two performances in police dramas a generation apart. In the groundbreaking drama Homicide: Life on the Street, from 1993 until 1999, he played Detective Frank Pembleton, whose drive immediately made him the anchor of an impressive ensemble cast led by Yaphet Kotto and Ned Beatty. He drew a younger audience with the comedy Brooklyn Nine-Nine (2013-21) as Captain Ray Holt, who takes over a chaotic homicide squad and whose intensity again makes him the heart of the show.

Braugher’s deep, resonant voice and seemingly effortless control drew the respect of all he worked with. David Simon, creator of Homicide and The Wire, said: “I’ve worked with a lot of wonderful actors. I’ll never work with one better.” His classical training, at the Juilliard School in New York, made him a regular at the Public Theater’s Shakespeare in the Park, and indeed his portrayal of Henry V in 1996 won him an Obie (the off-Broadway equivalent of the Tony awards).

He brought the projection of the stage to the small screen. Pembleton was the master of “the Box”, or the interrogation room. He explained to his rookie partner in Homicide (played by Kyle Secor), it was “salesmanship … as silver tongued and thieving as ever moved used cars, Florida swamp land or Bibles. But what I am selling is a long prison sentence.” He dominated those small scenes, but the episode Subway, with Vincent D’Onofrio as a character pushed between subway trains, who will die once the trains are separated, was a two-hander whose intensity might have come from the stage of Beckett, Pinter or Mamet.

In Brooklyn Nine-Nine, as Holt, he played it straight in two senses. The adage of comedy being funniest when played straight gained resonance from Braugher’s ability to show the audience with a gesture or line-reading that he, like you, got the joke. But Holt is also gay. His gayness is never an issue, except as motivation for his progress within the police. It was as if Pembleton were stepping into Kotto’s “Gee” Giardello, a black man with an Italian father who was determined to rise in a white-dominated department.

This drive reflected Braugher’s own background. In the tough neighbourhood of Austin, on Chicago’s West Side, both his parents worked for the government; his father, Floyd, was a heavy equipment operator for the state of Illinois, and his mother, Sally, worked for the US Postal Service. He recalled he might have “pretended I was hard and tough and not square”, but he won scholarships to the Jesuit St Ignatius College prep and then to study mathematics at Stanford University, California. After walking into a student production of Hamlet, and playing Claudius, he decided he wanted to act.

Another scholarship took him to Juilliard. He graduated in 1988 and almost immediately was cast in a TV revival of Kojak, as his assistant. His first film role came in Glory (1989); he was so impressive as the educated Thomas Searles, forced to serve as a private soldier in the all-black regiment commanded by his white friend, that Hollywood came calling, but the parts were standard stereotyical roles. His father had questioned how a black actor would make a living, and Braugher later explained: “I’d rather not work than do a part I’m ashamed of.”

He played the lead in a TV movie, The Court-Martial of Jackie Robinson (1990), playing Robinson, the first African-American player in major league baseball, who earlier in the 1940s, as a US army lieutenant, had refused to ride in the back of a segregated bus; and appeared in another TV film, The Tuskegee Airmen (1995). He was an egotistical actor in Spike Lee’s Get On the Bus (1996), about the Million Man March on Washington DC the year before. In 1998 he won his first Emmy award for playing Pembleton; he was nominated 11 times, and won his second in 2006 for his role in the miniseries Thief.

After Homicide, he starred as a doctor in Gideon’s Crossing (2000-01), as a cop in Hack (2002-04), as a car dealer in the comedy-drama Men of a Certain Age (2009-11) and as the captain of a submarine which goes on the run after he refuses to obey orders to fire nuclear missiles in Last Resort (2012-13). He had another series of remarkable two-handers in a recurring role as Hugh Laurie’s psychiatrist in House, was a defense attorney in episodes of Law and Order: Special Victims Unit, and voiced Governor Woodchuck Coodchuck-Berkowitz in the animated comedy BoJack Horseman.

He made the most of supporting roles in films such as Primal Fear (as Richard Gere’s investigator), Poseidon (captain of the sinking liner), Salt (as the US secretary of defense) and most notably as a New York Times editor in She Said (2022), covering the Harvey Weinstein scandal. He also starred in 10,000 Black Men Named George (2002), the story of the unionisation of Pullman railway porters, who were always called “George” by passengers.

Braugher admitted that his career “could have been larger, but it would have been at the expense of my own life”. He lived in suburban New Jersey with his wife, the actor Ami Brabson (who played Pembleton’s wife in Homicide). He said he wanted his three sons, Michael, Isaiah and John Wesley, raised in a “true context”, away from being a movie star’s offspring in Hollywood.

He is survived by his wife and sons, his brother, Charles, and his mother.

🔔 Andre Keith Braugher, actor, born 1 July 1962; died 11 December 2023

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

[umbylievable]

superhero world building and mechanics is, this is not an exaggeration, my absolute favorite thing in the world. tell us everything.

SO everything is set in a fictional city in Delaware called Kaiyper. Why Delaware? Because it's close enough to the federal government for the presence of superheroes to be a concern but Delaware is also unassuming enough that the average American citizen would know jack shit about it.

The origin story is that there was a government funded genetics lab located in Kaiyper that was conducting experiments on rats regarding activating dormant genes. In this process they discovered a virus that appeared completely benign but actually caused the activation of a "superhero" gene in certain populations in the presence of a large amount of adrenaline. One scientist, upon learning the government intended to use it to create a superpowered army, decided the virus was too dangerous and destroyed all but one sample.

See this scientist wasn't exactly a beacon of goodness either. They still wanted to see their research flourish. And there was a man who rode the bus with them by the name of Jason Weiss who they felt was the perfect human subject to test this on. So they exposed Jason to the virus surreptitiously and then went underground.

Unfortunately even though the virus wasn't communicable in rats it proved to be in humans, and it slowly spread through the city. So people started developing superpowers out of nowhere, and no one knew the cause except the government and the lab, and they kept it hush hush for obvious reasons.

The main story takes place about 30 years after that initial infection. Jason died in a fight with the city's first supervillain. His daughter, Leona (under the codename Duchess Vespus), who only recently discovered her own superpower, has taken it upon herself to become the city's protector in his stead. She's joined by her childhood best friend Tripp Weaver, AKA Trap-Ease, and an enigmatic alien named Th'alhnan, AKA Angelface.

The city has a broad cast of supervillains, ranging from petty thieves to mass murderers, and that includes an exotic dancer named Candice Randall, stage name Candy, villain name Pound Foolish. And she just happens to be one of Leona's girlfriends.

The other girlfriend, Danielle (who belongs to my bestie @moonlube) is a member of an underground supervillain containment group composed of non-powered humans operating outside of the law to try and help control the superpowered crime wave in the city. Her partner is James, a goofball and perpetual fuck-up whose car is constantly getting wrecked by superhero shenanigans. His insurance is so high.

Most of the story revolves around Leona, Candice, and Dani trying to navigate romance amidst their clashing careers. The fun thing about the superhero gene is, its expression is not just dependent on genetics but on necessity. The primary power they develop is dependent on what they needed or wished for it to do at the time of its activation. Leona is invulnerable because she was attempting to take a bullet for someone when her power activated. Her father Jason had super strength because he was trying to stop a bus. Some people have more than one power, but it's unknown why some people develop more powers than others.

Other fun characters include

Shandar, an emperor of a now destroyed planet, forced to take refuge on earth while they plot their revenge

Diamondback, a spoiled nepo baby who has taken up supervillainy just because he was bored

The Broforce Five, five college fratboys with superpowers who think they're the rightful protectors of Kaiyper. One of them is killed early in the story and the Broforce disbands.

Abraham, a broken shapeshifting alien superweapon that can now only turn into a weird dog and a backpack. He belongs to James.

Scarabesque, a former ballerina whose career was ruined by an injury. Now wears a protective armor and uses her powers for evil. Has a little bit of a crush on Leona.

I recently started retooling the whole thing so there's some posts with more info on my blog I need to retype but that is the basics of it!!

[ninjaunderscore]

What are your headcanon of Evil wizard without hood apparence and of His forms a ball and a giant spider i like to see how he look His full body reference

Finally getting around to answering the year old asks LMAO anyways Ive gotten 2 asks about this so I broke them up into separate posts

I call the Evil Wizard 'Mandrin' which is a misspelling of Mandarin, reason being I joked about him being as small as a Mandarin orange, so with that out of the way ill be referring to him from now on!

Tbh I saw him as a troll, kinda like what the troll mom spawns in thieves forest/in the marsh? But lighter with the fur patterns like his spider form!! Hes just a little guy, heres an old ref of his unhooded look and his alt forms (theyre just the same imo, lmao)

I havent seriously drawn the ball form he has nor have I drawn his spider form since Im horrifically afraid of arachnids

His design is very different now but I haven't gotten around to drawing his ref sheet but it's the same thing, just different robes!

Heres him in my newer style!! hes just a full on spider creature

MASSIVE LORE DUMP AHEAD

Onto his head cannons about his forms:

I personally have an au where my head cannons take place because I absolutely adore lore building on this game

Mandrin wasnt originally evil, he was a part of a coven of high mages and such! They take the form of anthropomorphic creatures and try and keep the peace working with other kingdoms (flooded temple/Marsh, Castle Grey(Home Castle), Lava World, the Arctic, Sand Castle, etc etc yk)

Mandrin thought of a plan to take over the entire land, have everyone live in harmony in his own way and to have all the kingdoms respond to the high covens command (which he wanted to be in charge of) but that required essentially beating the kingdoms into submission. He was then cast out of the coven to be on his own, stripped from his title and role.

Mandarin was enraged and proceeded to take the situation into his own hands, training his own army with his own ideals to unite the world and be king of the lands.

Im not gonna go too far into his back story but thats how he started to be,,, well,,, himself.

Hes able to transform as Ive stated before, high powered mage, but he doesnt have a lot of experience so his powers are limited. This is why his spider form is very.... Unstable? Goopy, slimy, not right. He and his magic are very unstable to begin with and its just enhanced by the magical crystal he stole from the king.

[raxistaicho]

I played Berwick Saga, here's why you should!

It's a really really good games :)

For those not in the know, Berwick was the second of Kaga's post-Nintendo SRPG games. Despite having TearRing Saga in its ridiculously-long full title (TearRing Saga Series: Berwick Saga Lazberia Chronicle Chapter 174 for those who are curious), the game has only the loosest narrative connection with its predecessor, so don't feel obliged to play that first (though you still might want to to get your feet wet on Kaga's post-Nintendo design style, if you've never played Thracia).

Unlike TearRing, which was basically Fire Emblem with a new coat of paint slapped on top, Berwick is quite a bit different, most notably featuring a hex-grid layout, the player and the AI take turns taking actions on a single phase of play (so no player and enemy phase, but the player does always get the first move each turn) weapon access being mostly tied to a unit's level, playable units you need to hire each chapter if you want to use them until you manage to permanently recruit them, and horses that can take damage and die!

The cast of playable characters is rather small but highly unique on the whole. Units are seldom defined by their stats, but by their skills, weapon access, and prf weapons they have at their disposal. A number of units, including all the thieves, can hide on leafy or man-made terrain, the flier can fly over ground-based units and is safe from melee units initiating onto her, the christmas cavs of the game are defined by one having Vantage (due to the way countering works in Berwick, he can stop enemies dead in their tracks if he hits them first) and the other having the accost-like Deathmatch, a few units are highly valuable for their ability to re-roll avoidance against arrows (you'll be seeing a lot of enemy archers :p), some archers can set up an action to intercept units moving into their range with a free attack that immediately ends their action if the attack lands, and the pirate is less an axe guy who can swim and more a nautical thief who can actually pack a punch unlike the two pure thieves.

The writing is also excellent. Though the main lord, Reese, is involved in a continent-spanning war, the corrupt and incompetent king and his court do everything in their power to sideline him out of petty prejudice, so Reese's army spends as much time helping the common people of the capital as they do aiding the war effort directly. That's not to say Berwick is devoid of big moves and politics, but it is to say it has a stronger focus on the daily struggles of life during a time of war (though this naturally abates by the end of the game, focusing more on the big movements again). The playable characters also receive much more care in their characterization and different story arcs than is the norm, and almost everyone has their own story woven into the main plot, and their own ending once the final map is done.

Downtime between missions (for most of the game, each chapter has its own main mission followed by two optional side missions) takes place in the hub city of Navaron. Before you get worried, everything is done via menus, and the hub is purely there for watching cutscenes, taking on missions, preparing your team, hiring mercenaries, buying equipment and horses, exchanging prisoners, turning in bounties, chatting with an eccentric collector who's keen on rewarding you handsomely for giving him often-unsavory weapons, forging and crafting gear, and eating at the pavilion for chapter-long stat boosts. None of the tedium of exploring Garreg Mach or doing the Somniel's dozen or so chapterly minigames. Much of the NPCs are involved in giving you your side missions, so you'll get to know even them quite well.

Berwick is challenging but fair. And when it feels overwhelming, the folks on the FE Discord are extremely helpful and welcoming to new players. So yeah, I said my piece, Berwick's worth trying out :)

[wyvernwriterarchive]

CLASSES!!! YAY

Class Types

⚔️Infantry: A simple foot soldier. Nothing positive or negative about them, but they make up a large majority of any good army and typically specialize in physical weapons.

☘️Covert: Lighter infantry like archers and thieves who can quickly traverse terrain and weaken enemies with their attacks. They are slightly weaker but have better evasion and utility.

🐎Cavalry: Fighters who ride a mount on the ground, like cavaliers or rangers. High mobility, but usually crippled by rough terrain. To make up for their incredible maneuverability, they often have lower stats.

🛡️Armored: Units within heavy, powerful armor like knights. Lower speed and mobility are usually bad at taking magic attacks usually. But they are incredibly durable walls and have great strength and defense. Plus, they defend allies around them.

🦅Flying: An airborne soldier who takes to the skies.High mobility and ignores terrain penalties, but usually low defense. They also can not gain the benefits of most terrain bonuses.

🔮Spellcaster: A unit that can cast spells with ease, melting through enemies with lower resistance. They suffer in the defensive department, though.

🦁Shifter: A unit that can shift into a beast periodically. They are weaker in their human form, but in their beast form, they are incredibly powerful.In DToL, shifters are split into Beasts(physical) and Monsters(magical)

Mercenary ⚔️

A sellsword who handles tough jobs for coins with their raw power and skill with a sword. Balanced and powerful physical stats, with especially good strength and skill.

Fencer⚔️

A nimble myrmidon of the blade. With a dash of flair and charm, they are known for swiftly parrying and retaliating against those who stand against them. High speed and skill, but lower defenses.

Thief 🍀

Swift pickpockets who would rather take your gold and items than your life. They are fast and have great utility, such as being able to take valuables, but their lower physical stats will prove to be somewhat of an issue.

Soldier⚔️

An armored fighter with a sturdy spear, making up the bulk of any good army. Fierce and loyal to a cause, they face off against enemies with steady, precise strikes, and well rounded combat. They specialized in durability and accuracy.

Knight🛡

Heavily armored warriors who sacrifice mobility for power and protection. Rather slow, but incredibly strong and tough, and their shield protects their vulnerable friends from harm.

Militia ⚔️

A budding commoner who has taken up the fight to defend themselves. Has great potential written all over them, even if they start out rather underwhelming.

Fighter

Strong and vigorous combatants who wield the humble, yet mighty axe. They rend through enemy defenses with balanced strength, skill, and vitality, but lower defenses.

Brigand☘️

Rugged and rampant scoundrels who choose a wild fighting style in order to survive in the harsh outlands, spreading fear as they go. They boast power but lower accuracy.

Pirate⚔️

With a song of freedom and an odd yet brutal fighting style, these seafarers often spread horror on the coastal areas of the world. Great speed and luck, but low defenses.

[gayemeralds]

OKAY SEASON THREE OF TITANS: 7.5/10

probably giving this too high of a rating but man. if i put blinders on and only focus on jason’s story it’s actually not bad (this review is unfortunately long)

pros: JASON. look tbqh i don’t think this was a good adaptation of jason as a character or the utrh storyline. HOWEVER as it’s own seperate thing i think it was actually pretty good. they set jason’s character up in a way for the events to happen the way they did, and while i could easily nitpick, the core idea and relative execution was pretty good. jason was clearly suffering from ptsd and wanted so desperately to stop being afraid, which steamrolled all of his self worth issues and being outcasted by the titans into culminating as a really fucked up villain arc. also jason’s actor CARRIED the entire season on his back his acting was fucking insane i hope they compensated him for the back problems he has from carrying an entire season. also he killed hank and that’s a solid additional point from me. i really like how much they hammered home just how YOUNG jason is… like he’s just some teen who’s been casted aside by every form of familial support literally all his life, intentionally or through misunderstandings. and it’s so clear that he has problems but no one wants to take the time and help him. and then that leads to him getting easily manipulated by multiple people throughout the show who give him the slightest bit of compassion.

cons: where do i start. didnt like the scarecrow characterization… leaned way too close into being a joker rip off. a lot of the conflicts were dragged on and on. barbra and dick being thieves was stupid. somewhat disdained by the lacking moral complexity of the red hood as a character. the morals within the show and of the main titular characters are insanely flimsy, often hypocritical, and downright superficial, but their hypocrisy isn’t ever pointed out and they’re still painted as “correct” which is really annoying. there was seemingly little lasting consequences to everything that happened? like the lazarus pit was used as a deus ex machina to bring anyone who died back from the dead. tim was nice to see but he was RADICALLY different and also kinda unnecessary. everything about the handling of Bruce Wayne was fucking insane and badly done- he killed the joker and then fucked off for the rest of the season????? Donna troy coming back to life would have been FINE but they managed to somehow make it the most convoluted thing ever when they literally had a) raven’s magic or b) the lazarus pit to use as an excuse to bring her back. how did the entire city get tricked into thinking the titans poisoned Gotham when batman/justice league is an established part of canon and the titans, both new and old, have been also clearly established. crane’s defeat was entirely underwhelming. kori’s b-plot for the season could/should have quite literally been an entire season on its own. SPACE ARC IM JUST SAYING.

the biggest issue this show had was TELLING instead of SHOWING. like they managed to make jason’s death LAME. they didn’t even show him actually dying because they didn’t bother hiring a joker actor. some of the best story beats (jasons death, alfreds death, jims death, barbara’s stint as batgirl/being paralyzed, bruce killing the joker) just aren’t SHOWN but are explicitly mentioned. and the story definitely suffers for it. they very obviously had no idea what to do with batman, gar, or raven so they just kept disappearing into the background. batmans batcave is raided by scarecrow and his police force army but aparently his secret identity is still somehow a secret. the lazarus pit was WAY over used and dick shouldn’t have died.

the first half is definitely better than the second half, with episode 5 being the best one tbh. i think they just really paced this badly and the relationship between jason and the titans suffered a lot from the titans own hypocrisy and that quite literally never gets addressed, which is kind of annoying since they’re supposed to be “heroes”. however when the story wants to hit hard they really can start swinging- the scene between jason and bruce where Bruce benches jason from being robin but can’t communicate how much he loves jason and jason thinks that Bruce is firing him because jason couldn’t live up to the mantle of being dick’s successor, because he wasn’t good enough, was so fucking good. the scene where dick confronts his guilt about pushing jason away and away until jason spirals so badly he gets killed by the joker- how dick subconsciously or otherwise wanting jason dead manifests as dick beating jason with a crowbar in a hallucination. fucked up cinema. anyway i would actually watch this season again but i would not recommend it to anyone ever.

[zacksfairest]

Who’s your Unsounded oc from that post you reblogged a while back, if you don’t mind my asking? (In case you don’t remember, it’s originally from unsoundedcomic and starts with “Do you ever see any OCs for your comic?”)

I think it’s you at least. It’s described as “ Cassie’s OC,” you have “Cassie” on your profile thing, and the oc mostly “exists to be smooched on by Lemuel,” so it’s a pretty safe bet I’d say.

Bless you, anon, for assuming that I am ever forgetting that ask. Also for giving me the benefit of the doubt and thinking that there is more than one Lemuel obsessed Cassie with an OC to smooch Lem. You're a gem.

The fic that Ashley referenced in that ask that she answered is this one, which I entered in the Unsounded fanfic contest back in 2018. It is not even remotely my best work, and I really just threw my hat in the ring because, after reading the comic for so long and loving it so much, I just wanted to contribute.

There are other fics I've written, too, which can be found here. Ironically, my favorite fic that I wrote is A'den, which is a Star Wars crossover.

Oh!  And my friend @hermdoggydog actually wrote a fic for the 2021 Unsounded fanfic contest using Addilyn!  That can be found here.

But, anyway, yeah that's me lmao. And I'm about to bore you to tears.

Her name is Addilyn Theron—Addie for short. She's a semon woman in the Lions of Mercy under Lemuel's command.

Here, please see this dollmaker rendition I made of her some months ago:

Please know that I play fast and loose with the rules of the Unsounded world (especially Alderode) in order to have my fun.

So, as a semon, Addilyn is a part of the lowest caste, as well as the most numerous one. She came from a shitty family of thieves and ne'er-do-wells, and she didn't really have many options open to her. She knew that she was doomed to a life of crime or a destitute existence in a whore house (or perhaps even an early grave) if she didn't find a way to claw her way out of there.

So, she turned to the Council Army.

Now, I am very aware that Alderode is a highly patriarchal society and deeply misogynistic. Please do not judge me.

But anyway, my reasoning for making this work is that she probably lived in some town close to the border with Cresce, so the Council Army would be less inclined to be picky when recruiting from those towns. Especially where the semon caste was concerned. Yeah, she's a woman, but whatever. She'll probably be dead in a week anyway. And the semon breed like rats, right? She'll hardly be missed. At least it's one more body to throw at Cresce.

So they turned their heads and allowed her to sign up.

Well, it turned out that she was actually rather good at soldiering. She grew up rough and had rudimentary fighting abilities, and she had good instincts when it came to carrying out orders most effectively (and also how best not to die).

Addilyn lasted far longer than she should have, but managed to skirt under the radar for the most part. She didn't advertise her gender, but it was a mostly open secret. She'd kept enough of the men she fought with alive to keep them from giving her too much trouble.

But one day she wound up saving the son of some Copper politician whose vliegeng ride was shot down by Crescian forces. The lad lost a leg, but was otherwise alive. His father was incredibly grateful, and offered Addilyn any favor she wished.

And so she asked for the impossible: to join the Lions of Mercy.

Her Copper benefactor made it happen, but no one was happy about it. The brass knew they couldn't exactly tell him no, but they were determined to make this blow up in Addilyn's face. Who could they give her to? How best to either get her killed within a few months, or have her desert and put her head on a pike?

Give her to that new soud captain, they decided. He'll either get her killed (because soud always fuck up in the end, just like the semon), or he'll drive her to abandon her post and they can string her up for desertion.

Well, long story short, that doesn't happen. Lem hates this at first, and hates being saddled with this obvious attempt to oust him in some capacity. But Addilyn is good at this, and turns out to be not only a good soldier, but a good friend.

And, of course, that leads to Feelings. Because I'm disgusting.

This obviously sucks for Lem, because it was never part of his fratricidal plans to actually have feelings for someone. And boy does he feel the agony in his folly.

Aaaaaand, that's her! I've never actually had to publicly talk about her, only my closest friends have dealt with my self-indulgent ramblings, so boy do I feel exposed! But, yeah, there she is, in all of her cringe glory.

Thank you for asking!