#but hunter was like no! nobody insults my daughter!

[bibannana]

Hunter *holding Omega's face gently*: What are you?

Omega *who is a child of culture*: An idiot san-

Hunter *scowling*: Who told you that?! Who do I have to fight!?!

Wrecker *who watches all the holovids with Omega*: Uh oh.

[biggerbetterbat]

WITH YOU [11] WERE YOU AN ADULT FILMS ACTRESS BEFORE?

Daryl Dixon x OC!Charlie Reed

Summary: The group finds a shelter in the CDC. Charlie makes Daryl to play drunk game with her.

Warnings: language, rotten bodies, fluff

Song: Ever Since New York Harry Styles

A/N: Hi :) New chapter, I like it. I feel that maybe Daryl opened up to Charlie too fast...but still it's a good chapter. I can't wait when you will finally see my chapters for season 9!!!!!!! But for now...Please leave a comment and like if you like my work. ENJOY!

WITH YOU ON WATTPAD

It was bad. If she thought that bad was what happened in the camp, then she didn't know how she could name that.

The smell of rotting corpses was almost impossible to bear. With every breath, she was closer to vomiting whatever she had- and she couldn't let little KitKats leave her body that quickly. It was clear that the city tried to fight back as there were barricades and military cars here and there, but it wasn't the scariest part. There were bodies everywhere. Some of them didn't have body parts, and some were covered in blood. And blood was everywhere.

As the flies. Their buzzing was the only thing piercing through the silence.

"All right, everybody. Keep moving. Go on." Shane rushed everyone in a whisper and demanded them to be quiet.

When they reached the door, Rick and Shane tried to open them, but it wasn't working. All they did was make the metal echo through the silence. T-Dog looked around and then looked straight at Rick. "There's nobody here."

"Then why are the shutters down?" Rick asked.

"Walkers!"

"Baby, come on." Lori pulled Carl to her body in a caring gesture.

"You led us into a graveyard!" Daryl insulted Rick and stepped forward ready to fight. Charlie caught his arm quickly as she stood closest to him.

Shane held up his arms trying to calm hunter. "He made a call."

"It was the wrong damn call!" Daryl tried to get to Rick. "You hear me?"

"Just shut up," yelled Shane and stepped between his best friend and Dixon. "Shut up. Shut up!"

"Rick, this is the dead end," Lori said.

"Where are we gonna go?" asked panicked Carol, pulling her daughter closer.

"Do you hear me?" Shane turned to Rick. "No blame."

"She's right." interrupted Lori. "We can't be here, this close to the city after dark."

"Fort Benning, Rick, still an option." a cop said.

"On what?!" Charlie snapped. "No food, no fuel. That's a hundred miles."

"One hundred twenty-five. I checked the map." Glenn corrected her friend.

"Forget Fort Benning," she said again to Shane. "Rick. We need answers tonight, now."

"We'll think of something." he looked at her.

"Come on, let's go," said Daryl and pushed Charlie a little to make her walk towards the cars. "Let's get out of here."

"Let's go please," Lori said to Rick.

"Alright, everybody back to the cars! Let's move!" Shane commanded, ushering everyone to move.

"The camera!" Rick suddenly screamed. "It moved!"

Dale looked at Rick and then at the camera. "You imagined it."

"It moved. It moved." Rick argued, trying to convince everyone.

"Rick, it's dead, man." Shane came back to Rick and tried to pull him to the car. "It's an automated device, man. It's gears, okay? They're just winding down. Now come on. Man, just listen to me. Look around this place. It's dead, okay? It's dead. You need to let it go, Rick!"

When Rick pushed Shane away and hit the shutters again, Lori jogged to him and made him look at her. "Rick, there's nobody here!"

"I know you're in there!" Grimes yelled. "I know you can hear me!"

"Everybody get back to the cars now! Go!" Shane yelled at everyone again as he saw that they were still standing and waiting.

"Please, we're desperate. Please help us. We have women, children, no food, hardly any gas left." Rick begged the camera.

It was chaos. Walkers were snarling, Rick was yelling, Shane was trying to get them to move, and Lori was begging her husband to go. And Charlie was just clenching to Daryl's shirt.

"If you don't let us in, you're killing us!" Rick yelled.

"Come on, buddy, let's go!" Shane tried to help Lori and move his friend.

But Rick was standing still as a rock, looking into the camera. "Please! You're killing us."

Shutters opened suddenly and bright light shone from behind the glass doors.

Rick was right.

Dr.Jenner invited him to his safe zone on the condition that they all go through blood tests, so obviously they all agreed- even though Charlie was sure she would faint because she hated blood tests. The group was careful around Dr.Jenner, who was leading them somewhere and soon they found each other in a big room with machines and huge screens, which they could see in a dim light from the corridor.

"Vi, bring up the lights in the big room," he said and the big room got lit up. "Welcome to Zone 5."

Rick followed him. "Where is everybody? The other doctors, the staff?"

"I'm it," Jenner answered. "It's just me here."

Lori looked around the room, her eyes opened wider than ever before. "What about the person you were speaking with? Vi?"

"Vi, say hello to our guests. Tell them...Welcome."

Hello, guests. Welcome. They heard the computer's voice from heaven.

"I'm all that's left. I'm sorry." Jenner said.

After the blood test that she did everything to avoid, she was rather content with what happened next. When Jenner found out that they hadn't eaten in days, he prepared the biggest dinner she had seen in weeks.

The atmosphere was the same as the night Amy and the others died. They were laughing, and talking and they were old friends again, not strangers who just had to survive again.

"You know in Italy, children have a little bit of wine with dinner. And in France." Dale said while pouring wine into the glasses.

"Well, when Carl is in Italy or France, he can have some then," Lori said.

Since the last argument with Lori at the camp, Charlie came up with her own method. Before expressing her opinion about anything at this point, she was asking herself a question: would it be better if I bit my tongue. If the answer was yes, then she was just fisting her hands so her nails were digging into her skin.

It was like that this time. Because Carl probably would never be in Italy or France. He will probably never even live up to the legal drinking age.

But once again. She remained silent.

"What's it gonna hurt?" Rick looked at his wife. "Come on."

He nodded to Lori and she moved away her hand that was covering her son's cup. Dale poured Carl some wine and smiled. "There you are, young lad."

"Ugh." Carl stuck his tongue out, which made everyone laugh.

"That's my boy." Lori nodded. "Good boy," she added while pouring Carl's wine into her glass.

"That tastes nasty."

"Well, just stick to soda pop there, bud." Shane smiled at the kid.

"Not you, Glenn." Daryl pointed at the Asian boy next to her.

Glenn looked at Charlie and then towards Daryl with a dumbfounded expression."What?"

"Keep drinking, little man," Daryl said. "I want to see how red your face can get."

Sophia sat quietly, her small frame barely filling the chair next to Charlie, who was watching Glenn's interaction with Daryl with an amused smile. "They're being silly."

"They are," Charlie nodded.

"It's probably the first time I see Daryl talking so much," the girl said. The woman looked at her with a smile. "Do you ever miss being a kid?"

Charlie considered the question for a moment before responding. "Being an adult has its challenges, that's for sure. So, I guess yes."

"What do you miss the most?"

"My brothers," Charlie answered immediately without giving it much of a thought. "We were very close, when we were young."

"I always wanted a brother," Sophia confessed. "I wish your brothers would be here with us."

"Me, too."

"And I hope they're safe somewhere," she said.

Charlie tried to smile at her reassuring smile and words, but it was hard as emotions cumulated in her. Her face probably looked as if she ate a lemon, but in a warm gesture, Charlie caressed hair of the little girl. Sophia looked up at Charlie with a grateful smile, her eyes shining with emotion. Without a word, she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Charlie in a tight hug. Charlie was taken aback for a moment before returning the embrace, her own arms encircling Sophia protectively.

Rick hit his glass a couple times to make everyone quiet. Then he stood up and looked at Dr.Jenner."It seems to me we haven't thanked our host properly.

"He's more than just our host!" called T-Dog.

"Here's to you, Doc. Booyah!" Daryl yelled lifting the bottle up.

And then everyone called after him: "Booyah!"

"So when are you gonna tell us what the hell happened here, Doc?" Shane asked, looking at the doctor. " All the...the other doctors that were supposed to be figuring out what happened, where are they?"

"We're celebrating, Shane." Rick looked at his best friend. "Don't need to do this now."

"Woah, wait a second. This is why we're here, right? This was your move." Shane snapped at him, clearly annoyed. "Supposed to, you know, find all the answers. Instead we...we found him. Found one man. Why?"

Jenner looked down at first as if thinking about the answer- how to tell them a traumatizing story in the most approachable way.

"Well, when things got bad, a lot of people just...left." he shrugged. "Went off to be with their families. And when things got worse, when the military cordon got overrun, the rest bolted."

"Every last one?" Shane asked.

"No." he shook his head. "Many couldn't face walking out the door. They...opted out. There was a rash of suicides. That was a bad time."

Walsh looked at Jenner and narrowed his eyes. That must be his face when he was interrogating people in the past. "You didn't leave. Why?"

"I just kept working, hoping to do some good."

"I'm gonna throw up," said Glenn. Her eyes widened and she was up on her legs, helping him stand up. "Dude, you are such a buzzkill, man." said an Asian boy, facing Shane.

With that, the dinner was over and Jenner offered to show them where they could crash. Charlie took her bag with one hand and with the other, she held Glenn as he was swaying a little. They were following him down yet another hallway.

"Most facilities power down, including housing," said Jenner. "So you'll have to make do here. Couches are comfortable, but there are cots in storage if you'd like. There's a rec room down the hall that your kids might enjoy. Just don't plug in any video games, okay?" he leaned in to look at the kids. "Or anything that draws power. Same applies," he turned to face the group. "If you shower, go easy on the hot water."

"Hot water?" Glenn gasped.

She smiled at him as he shook her body slightly.

Charlie frowned as she wanted to step into a room after Glenn. He blocked her entrance explaining that he was sharing it with T-Dog, as Daryl didn't want to let him in.

"Come on, dude." she stomped her foot.

"Next time, Charls," Glenn said and patted her shoulder. "Know it's hard, but you can make it through the night." he teased her.

"Hey, Charlie!" Shane called her name. "You want to share a room?"

"Say, since we're both staying here tonight, how about we share a room? It'll be more fun than going solo."

Charlie's expression shifted from amusement to mild surprise. "Uh, thanks for the offer, but I think I'll pass. I prefer my own space."

Shane shrugged nonchalantly. "Can't blame a guy for trying, right? The offer's always open if you change your mind."

As he sauntered away, Charlie shook her head with a smile, amused by Shane's persistence and relieved that it went so smoothly.

Daryl knew he made a mistake as soon as she entered the room and left her bag, so she could shower. Charlie knocked on his door, asking if she could share a room with him because the only one left was with Shane. He didn't really get the issue, so he just agreed.

And now he was realizing it even more, as she was sitting in her extremely short pajama bottoms and drinking whiskey from her glass. While he was drinking from his glass.

"Let's play questions," she said.

"It seems to me that we've playing that game since you entered that damn car with me."

Charlie rolled her eyes and finished her drink, just to pour herself some more.

"Come on, Daryl."

"But why?"

"Why not?" she chuckled.

He sighed and also bottomed his drink, pouring even more than before, because he knew that he wouldn't get through the night completely sober.

"So you didn't have a wife. So girlfriend?"

"No."

"Boyfriend?" she asked, but when she saw his death stare she didn't need an answer. "Okay, sorry. Just asking. So...how many people have you kissed?"

"Does it matter?"

"No. Like any of those questions." she shrugged.

"So how many have you kissed?" he asked.

"I don't know. Two?" she looked at him. "What? I'm not that easy. I was working, I was busy."

Daryl really didn't want to answer that question and was even more scared of what else she wanted to ask.

"One."

"Was it like the love of your life?" she asked.

Daryl bit his lip, embarrassment going up on his cheeks. "Nah."

"Okay." she shrugged as if nothing happened. "On a scale from one to ten, how good kisser are you?"

"I'm not gonna answer that question."

"Why?" she gasped. "It's a normal question. I think I'm like...eight," she said and looked at him. "No. I'm a nine."

Dixon scoffed. "You are vain."

"I prefer the term confident." she corrected. "So?"

He really didn't want to answer the question, because he felt ashamed. How could he tell her that his first, last, and only kiss was with a girl that Merle paid to kiss him? It was humiliating. Also, it was impossible to rate himself like that.

"Were you an adult films actress before?"

"Why?"

"Because of your questions. You have no shame. Those are private things." he answered. "'Sides your face seem familiar."

Before Daryl realized his words his face already turned bright red. He watched her cheeks puff with the air as she held her breath in. But soon the liquid came through the nose as she started laughing out loud. Avoiding one humiliation he pushed himself in even bigger humiliation.

"Oh, God." she inhaled, whipping tears away. "Daryl, you're the man one of a kind. I was a TV presenter before, that's why my face...seems familiar." she chuckled. "What you were doing before?"

"Hangin' around with Merle and his friends. Doing stupid shit," he answered.

"You were close," she stated more than asked, but Daryl just shrugged. "I was pretty close with my brothers...once."

"Once?"

"My older brother Luke," she said. "He's four years older than me, but we used to tell people who didn't know us that we're twins, because of how inseparable we were," she said, looking in the distance with a smile. "Once we wrote a Valentine to a girl and we signed it with the name of our other brother, Will. The girl was older than him, extremely popular, she was classmates with Luke. She laughed at in front of the whole school, everyone was teasing him for that and he knew it was us. He didn't speak to us for six months and when we all went to the summer camp, he put mud in our clothes so it was extra messy." she smiled. "It was the first time we went on this camp alone, without our oldest brother Finn. Our dad was furious. He grounded us all and the biggest victim was little Pete, who didn't know about anything, but was punished anyway."

She chuckled.

"I miss them," Charlie whispered.

"Your dad seems a tough guy," he said.

"He was. We were never too young for something. He treated us all equally." she said. "What was your biggest dream when you were...seven?"

"Bike," he answered without thinking.

"Mine was a pony. Or at least lessons on how to ride a pony. I asked for it every Christmas and birthday, but all I got was a plastic gun." she said. "When I was older he replaced it with shooting classes."

"Now you can thank him," Daryl answered. "My dad was an asshole, too."

Daryl didn't like to think about it and even more he hated talking about it. Merle didn't give a flying damn about what was happening at home, so he just kept quiet. His childhood wasn't so sweet and his relationship with his brother wasn't so perfect, but he felt the urge to share with her the smallest piece of his nightmare.

"I was running away from home. From my father," he said. "I spent days away in the woods, that's how I learned what to do. If not my asshole father I would be dead already."

She nodded her head. "Did you and Merle have any traditions?"

"Yeah," he said. "First we were getting wasted and then stoned, never the other way," he answered, but she knew he was teasing her, so she kicked him. "Did you?"

"Not really." she shrugged. "I just remember that Billy was singing this one song all the time since he was little. When he was stressed or scared or when he needed to focus, it was this one song over and over again. When we were all living together I was sick from hearing it." she shook her body in disgust. "But we all picked it up and we were all singing it. See now? I can't even remember the song."

He looked at her and nodded. Daryl for the first time saw a human in her, a real person with real feelings. It was also the first time she was sharing her personal stories or memories from before. Daryl was even more curious about her now, he wanted to know more about her.

"Have you ever skinny-dipped?" she asked after a moment.

"Go to sleep," he said as he placed his glass on a nightstand. "You're too drunk."

She rolled her eyes and mumbled something that sounded like you're no fun but did as she was told. Then she looked at him from her place on the bed and looked him in the eye because he actually asked her a serious question."Why you didn't want to share a room with Shane?"

"Have you seen the guy?" she asked. "I don't trust him after the amount of alcohol he drank tonight. And I don't trust him when he's trying to find comfort after losing Lori."

"And you trust me?"

"You're a good man, Daryl," she whispered.

He knew that he was everything, but good. However, he wasn't in a state to argue with that.

"Go to sleep."

"Mmm. Night night, Mr. FunKiller," she said, and in a second she was out.

In his dreams, all he saw that night, was her smiling face, and all he could hear was her laugh. That was a really good damn night.

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[yourbuerokrat2]

@cchipollo The fact, that before Q showed up Picard and Beverly were alone in the dark in some warehouse probably having another one of their 'moments' that Q just had to interrupt. And that Q really had to change his entire body type just for that representation. Also Q trying to ignore that Beverly even exists in all of the panels I have seen from that comic just screams petty jealousy.

Also if you did not know the mythological meaning of the laurel wreath (because I think you would like it): Basically Apollo dared to tell Eros that he had a bad aim and you do not insult Eros. So Eros shot two arrows, one of love through Apollos heart and one at the nymph Daphne about the 'aversion of love'. A chase where Apollo tried to reassure her that 'love' for the reason for her pursuit (I beg you, nymph, daughter of Peneus, remain! I pursue not as an enemy;), where he told her to at least flee a bit more carefully (I pray that you run more gently and restrain your escape, I myself will pursue more gently.) and that the reason she is running away is that she seems not to understand that he is Apollo, a god, and not some common hunter or shepherd (You don’t know, o thoughtless one, you don’t know whom you flee, and therefore you flee). This however only makes her continue to flee and she begs her father to help her and as a way to rescue her from Apollos love she is turned into a tree and since Apollo still loves her he kisses her and says:

The god said to her, since you can't be my bride, at least you will certainly be my tree! My hair(s) will always have you, my lyres [will have you], my quivers [will have you], o Laurel;

(the texts from Apollos words are taken from Ovids Metamorphoses: https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/Translation:Metamorphoses/Daphne_and_Apollo)

He goes on further what he intends for laurel to mean.

So, I like to think that Picard is less focused on Qs peacock-like display and more on the laurel branch, thinking how fitting it is. Just that nobody is going to turn him into a tree in order to get Q to leave him alone.

Also, you really gave Q the body of a young greek god, I gotta give you that.

felt really REALLY normal when i saw this comic panel ha ha ha !!!!

[khaleesiofalicante]

"Sweet mother, I cannot weave / slender Aphrodite has overcome me / with longing for a girl." -Sappho

Look, I love the idea of Mavid for eternity, I reaaaally do. The way of getting that, however....

I AM LOVE ALL THE NICO AND MAX'S INTERACTIONS🥺🥺🥺💙

Nico: warlock math comes with a price. It is really dangerous, it can kill you or create a lot of damage around you. Some things are better unresolved

Also Nico: anyway, I'm gonna teach you this, it sure as hell won't go south😎

I feel Nico is teaching him warlock math bc he saw something in his future. I just know it!!!!

What the fuck is Max trying to do????

The cane was blue now. Because David’s ability to make things better seemed to have no end. My GOD they are both so in love it's embarrassing!! Jk, jk. I love them <33

Magnus is indeed very cool and we as a society don't recognize this enough!!!

“Good for you,” Max said. “And you know what? Growing up is kinda overrated.” feel this😔

“Keep the Chairman’s name out of your mouth,” bapak hissed. “He has been through enough.” My parents when I scold my dogs:

YESS!!! That's practically harassment!!! We should talk about this more!!! Thank you, Magnus 💙

He knows something and I don't like it.... This is suspicious....👀

I don't feel a hint of sympathy for Mallory, but omg Max is good at this tbh😂

Poor Simon😔 stay strong, soldier...

Lovehollow are here to save the day!!!!

“My girlfriend is here with me. I hope that’s okay.” There is something so sweet in Roman calling Gigi his girlfriend!! Idk what is it!! Maybe I'm just too single for this, but I am soft🥺🥺

The logo had a deep meaning hidden I feel it in my bones!!!

“Never,” she replied. “If you aren’t here, then I don’t want to be here either.”

“No Roman and Gigi?” he chuckled. “Shame indeed.”

Imagine a place without them!! I feel bad about the rest of them 😔

Roman just panicking internally is so funny for some reason 😂😂

Why are these people finding Hunter familiar???? I'm trying to connect some dots but I just can't and at this point I am anxiety 😭 and his eyes!!! They're a clue, RIGHT?!?!

She fought the urge to set the whole damn place on fire. No babe, don't resist it!! Burn the whole thing down!!!

Everytime I remember how smart Roman is, I cry jdhdudj

Finally!!! They found the seashell!! And it was obviously them🥰🥰

Roman took out his katana and Gigi took out her butterfly knives. “Come get it if you want.” they were so sexy for this tbh

I don't know wtf just happened...but ok I guess??

Ahhhh reading about Marcus and Mallory takes another year of my life😭😭

“I don’t even know him, Mallory. But even I could see that he loves David. You mean nothing to him!” Even he sees it!!!

He looked at her and smiled sadly. “Because if you try to take it, it will kill you." I see it as a win-win....

“You want me to mutilate myself to prove my love?” he asked. She nodded. NO THAT'S NOT HOW IT WORKS!!!

“Love shouldn’t hurt, Mallory.”

Oh.

“What does it feel like then?” she asked him in a whisper.

“Love feels good,” Max told her.

THIS QUOTE>>>

WHAT THE FUCK IS HE DOING??? WHY DID HE GIVE HER THE RING??? 😭😭😭 That ring belongs to Mavid only!!!

Just talk to him, Lexi!!! Stop dragging this out for fucks sake!!😂

“Gross,” Lexi said. “Can’t we just punch them until they’re nice to people?” I support this plan 100%

I don't even know Achilles' girlfriend, but I am love them💙💙

Fuck nuggets. Why did she keep forgetting about this? omg I'm done with her jshsjdbdk

I really hadn't thought about it the way Achilles said, but he has a great point!! Like, we don't see it much, but the mundane alliance has definitely improved a LOT of lives

“It is. I wish we can just fast forward to the bit where Gigi figures everything out.” same😔

The punch Lexi gave her fixed something in me

Mallory rolled her eyes. “That little bitch has nothing on my brother.” That's it. I'm done with this bitch. Nobody insults Gigi and lives under my watch 🔪🔪🔪

Jace took a bullet for her daughter and now I will never recover from this😭😭

This made me think of "Don't worry little nephilim. Uncle Magnus is here"❤️

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK WAS THAT??? HOW COULD SHE BLOCK HIS SPELL??? WHAT??

She hurt Jace and Magnus. I need Alec going feral, please! Just as a little treat🥰

Anyway, I just read this now bc yesterday I finished reading Crooked kingdom (I took a loot of time for that one and idk why!!! I loved it and it's definitely one of my fave books💙) and also watched Young Royals!! I also loved it!! And the ending jfc😭

Thoughts on the new season??

THE POETIC QUOTE OOF.

Omg Crooked Kingdom is the best?? I'm glad you enjoyed it!

The meds that are supposed to put me to sleep actually keep me awake (wtf is this nonsense??) so I binged Young Royals last night and of course I loved it! The angst in this season was immaculate.

Also I love Simon so much please he is a soft bean and needs to be protected 😭

ps - mallory didn't block Magnus' spell. Marcus activated the device and collapsed the ley lines in Cardiff. So, Magnus couldn't use his magic anymore :(

[rodeoxqueen]

Rodeo’s Devil May Cry Roster

Last Updated: Feb 22th, 2021 (All Works Accounted For)

It ain’t much but it’s honest work. If you liked it and you want to, feel free to give your local cowboy a tip on Ko-Fi. 

Enjoy yourselves, my darling Lone Rangers wandering the earth. 

-Rodeo

Headcanons

Dante 

Dante As A Dad

If Dante Had A TikTok

Tickling Dante and Vergil 

Why Vergil Sleeps With An Eye Mask

The Sparda Twins Dying For Each Other (ANGST)

Dates With Dante Before and During A Relationship

How Nico, Nero, and Dante Would Handle Anti-Maskers

Dante and Vergil With A Delinquent Child

Dante and Vergil's Favorite Types Of Intimacy 

Kissing Dante and Vergil All Over Their Faces

Dante, Vergil, and Lady Cuddling Their Male S/O 

Dante Sleeping Over With His S/O For The First Time

Dante and Vergil Being Bridal-Carried In Public By S/O 

Dante and Vergil Joining Their S/O’s Skin Care Regime

Dante and Vergil Having Disagreements With Their S/O

Dante and Vergil With A Sympathetic Demon Hunter S/O 

Dante and Vergil With a Black!Half-Demonic!Angel-like!S/O

Dante and Vergil Falling In Love With A S/O Who Is Nero's Age

NSFW

SDT!Dante (NSFW)

Dante and Vergil: Giving Their Male S/O Oral Sex (NSFW)

Dante and Vergil: Spanking As Foreplay, Giving and Receiving (NSFW) 

Dante and Vergil Having SDT!Sex With A Devil-Triggered! AFAB! S/O (NSFW)

Vergil 

Vergil As An Uncle

Vergil As A Grandfather 

Tickling Dante and Vergil

Vergil During Thanksgiving 

Insults Vergil Have Thrown At Dante

Why Vergil Sleeps With An Eye Mask

Dante and Vergil With A Delinquent Child

Vergil Owns A Vinyl Collection: A Concept 

The Sparda Twins Dying For Each Other (ANGST)

Vergil Fighting His Power Obsessed Daughter (ANGST, TW: DEATH)

Dante and Vergil's Favorite Types Of Intimacy 

Kissing Dante and Vergil All Over Their Faces

Dante, Vergil, and Lady Cuddling Their Male S/O

Vergil and V with a S/O Who Can Summon A Persona

Dante and Vergil Being Bridal-Carried In Public By S/O

Dante and Vergil Joining Their S/O’s Skin Care Regime

Dante and Vergil Having Disagreements With Their S/O

Dante and Vergil With A Sympathetic Demon Hunter S/O

Dante and Vergil With a Black!Half-Demonic!Angel-like!S/O

Dante and Vergil When Nero And Their S/O Can't Get Along

Dante and Vergil Falling In Love With A S/O Who Is Nero's Age 

NSFW

SDT! Vergil (NSFW)

Dante and Vergil: Giving Their Male S/O Oral Sex (NSFW)

Dante and Vergil: Spanking As Foreplay, Giving and Receiving (NSFW)

What Dante, Trish, and Vergil Do When They Want To Get Intimate With Their S/O (NSFW)

Dante and Vergil Having SDT!Sex With A Devil-Triggered! AFAB! S/O (NSFW)

V 

Vergil and V with a S/O Who Can Summon A Persona

Dante, Vergil, and V

Personality Traits The DMC Boys Fall For

Dante, Vergil, and V With A Nephil! S/O

Dante, Vergil, and V With A Trans! FTM!S/O

Dante, Vergil, and V With Their Dhampir! S/O

Dante, Vergil, and V With Their FBI Agent! S/O

Dante, Vergil, and V With A Thick-Thighed S/O 

Dante, Vergil, and V With Cosplay Hobbyist! S/O

Dante, Vergil, and V With A Strong & Badass S/O

Dante, Vergil, and V With A Wonder Woman! S/O

Dante, Vergil, and V With A Badass But Lazy! S/O

Dante, Vergil, and V With Their Authorities Angel! S/O

Dante, Vergil, and V With A Part-Time Pro-Cosplayer! S/O

Dante, Vergil, and V With A Strong And Very Closed Off! S/O

Dante, Vergil, and V With A S/O With Scarlet Witch’s Powers

Dante, Vergil, and V Watching One Piece With Their Male S/O

Dante, Vergil, and V  Being “Jet-Pack Cuddled” By A Short!S/O

Dante, Vergil, and V With An Amnesiac! S/O That Still Loves Them

What Would Dante, Vergil, and V Do If Someone Made Their S/O Cry

Dante, Vergil, and V With A Physically Weak But Intellectually Badass! S/O

Dante, Vergil, and V With A S/O With Muscle Twitches Due To Antidepressants 

Dante, Vergil, and V Playing the Pocky Game

Dante, Vergil, and V Getting Their Hair Stroked

Dante, Vergil, and V Taking Care Of Stray Animals

Gifts Dante, Vergil, and V Would Give To Their S/O

Dante, Vergil, and V Taking Care Of Their Baby Daughter

Dante, Vergil, and V Going To Their Kid’s Volleyball Tournament

Dante, Vergil, and V Taking Their Children To The Amusement Park 

Dante, Vergil, V, and Nero’s Favorite Traditional Chinese and Japanese Foods and Drinks

(Dante, Vergil, and Nero On The Maury Show)

PART I

PART II

PART III

NSFW

Dante, Vergil, and V With A Virgin! S/O (NSFW)

Dante, Vergil, and V With A Thick-Thighed S/O (NSFW)  

Dante, Vergil, and V With A Friend With Benefits (NSFW)

Dante, Vergil, and V With A S/O That’s Always Horny (NSFW)

Dante, Vergil, and V With A S/O With Small Boobs (NSFW-ish)

Dante, Vergil, and V Doing The 69 Position With A Timid!S/O (NSFW)

Dante, Vergil, and V Catching Their S/O Touching Themselves (NSFW)

Dante, Vergil, and V With A S/O That Likes Being Called Kitten (NSFW)

What Dante, Trish, and Vergil Do When They Want To Get Intimate With Their S/O (NSFW)

Dante, Vergil, and V With A S/O That Blurts Out They Masturbated To The Thought Of Them (NFSW)

Nero 

Ticking Nero

Raising Nero As His Mother

Being Best Friends With Nero

Nero and Chewing Gum: A Concept

Poly! Nero, Kyrie, And Male S/O Relationship

How Nero Might Become Evil: A Pysch-Analysis

Nico And Nero’s Friendship (Knife Brother Requested!)

How Nico, Nero, and Dante Would Handle Anti-Maskers 

Nero With A Black! Half-Demonic! Angel-like! Best Friend

Dante, Vergil, V, and Nero’s Favorite Traditional Chinese and Japanese Foods and Drinks

Lady

Dante, Vergil, and Lady Cuddling Their Male S/O

Trish 

What Dante, Trish, and Vergil Do When They Want To Get Intimate With Their S/O (NSFW)

Nico 

Nico And Nero’s Friendship (Knife Brother Requested!) 

How Nico, Nero, and Dante Would Handle Anti-Maskers 

Fully Written Works 

Dante 

Stuck Thinking About You

Summary:  Dante or Vergil gets immobilized in some embarrassing or inconvenient way during a job and then (Y/N) pays them company until they can be freed. How about they have a crush on (Y/N) and they don't know it is returned until the end?

A For Apple, Or A For IKEA?

Summary: In which Vergil goes to IKEA with Dante to get a new table. But at what cost?

Don’t Leave Baby In The Corner

Summary: Dante and you talk about wanting kids or not while waiting for the pregnancy test.

Nothing Hurts When I’m With You

Summary: With Dante hurt from a demonic attack, the two of you seek shelter and each other's warm company in a cave.

草莓珍珠奶茶-Strawberry Pearl Milk Tea

Summary: You take Dante out for his first bubble tea experience.

Somebody Else’s; Nobody’s (ANGST)

Summary: Dante hates to think about you with somebody else, yet he still says no to your love. Guess he's just a coward, and now he's picturing your body with somebody else.

NSFW

Velvet Devotion (NSFW)

Summary: You don't know what you do to him. How you hold onto him in the dead of night, nails raking his skin. How he feels held by you. On velvet sheets, he finds he is worshipped with the softest of affections.

Vergil 

Of Lacking Specatcle(s)

Summary: Vergil is a lot of things. Vergil is the Dark Slayer, The Alpha and The Omega, and the eldest son of Sparda. Vergil is also….in need of glasses?

Knock-Off Ring Franchise

Summary: Vergil and Dante leave Vergil’s S/O in the shop with a TV and a strange VCR tape. Drama ensues.

Stuck Thinking About You 

Summary: Dante or Vergil gets immobilized in some embarrassing or inconvenient way during a job and then (Y/N) pays them company until they can be freed. How about they have a crush on (Y/N) and they don't know it is returned until the end? 

A For Apple, Or A For IKEA?

Summary: In which Vergil goes to IKEA with Dante to get a new table. But at what cost?

NSFW

The Passion In Rivalry (V/Reader/Vergil)(NSFW)  

Summary: Vergil separating V from himself with Yamato. Threesome with reader ensues.

Do I Want To Know, Do You Feel Held By Me?(NSFW)

Summary:  All in all, Vergil is a tempered blade. Plunged into heat and left to the cold, he is only perfected with each night you come to his room.

He Wanted War, She Wanted Peace; In Pieces, They Collide(NSFW)(ANGST)

Summary: She pursued him, the demon in a human shell. Their time together meant no good, a match to silk and feathers, devastation imminent.

V

TikTok Stardom

Summary:  V and Y/N try to survive the four attempts Dante takes to be TikTok famous, one of the TikToks surprisingly working out in the end.

TIkTok Stardom II: The Lovers Strike Back

Summary:  Dante challenges (Y/N) to make a better TikTok than him, not knowing the secret weapon has a cane, secret dance skills, and an ever-present smirk on his face.

Verona Serenade

Summary: V takes you out on a date, and it’s poetry as always.

i died, and was born in the spring; i found you, and loved you, again

Summary: After a loss, comes the regrowth of roots once thought destroyed by the tides of time. A story in which V kisses you softly and Vergil holds onto you tightly.

NSFW

O Tempter, O The Sea (NSFW)

Summary: You cry out for the sea, yet you do not expect an answer back.

~Sweet Erotic Angel Baby~ (NSFW)

Summary: There is vitality in vulnerability. Even in your soft kisses, there is something with a bite that he craves to feel.

The Passion In Rivalry (V/Reader/Vergil)(NSFW)  

Summary: Vergil separating V from himself with Yamato. Threesome with reader ensues.

Nico

Heartline Driver, Front Seat Lover

Summary: At the end of a road trip begins a new path for you and Nico. But first, you have to turn on the ignition.

Series

Devil May Grind: Magic Mike! AU

Dante/Reader

Series Summary:  From a surprise rendezvous to a male strip club on your birthday to a private dance, you end up seeing eye-to-eye rather than eye-to-groin with a cowboy stripper named Dante Sparda.

PART I- Can You Touch This?(AFAB) (NSFWish)

Summary: A shy and short homebody celebrating your birthday with friends, you end up somewhere you'd never expect: a male strip club. And what you'd also never expect is a certain red-devil/cowboy stripper to lay his special treatment on you.

Vergil 

{KEEP AN EYE OVER YONDER}

V

{KEEP AN EYE OVER YONDER}

Keeping Up With A Himbo

ALL OF THE SPARDA BOYS

Series Summary: A series of domestically fluffy snippets where the s/o of a Sparda learns just how much of a himbo their lover is.

Dante (I)- Change Of Hands

Vergil (I)- Lost In The Sauce

AWAS

Dante/Reader/Vergil (NO SPARDACEST)

Series Summary: Dante and Vergil meet a mysterious and powerful being with a painful past and an even deadlier endgame.

(AWAS Has A Separate Masterlist)

Please Let This Cowboy Know If She’s Missed Any Of Your Favorites. She Ain’t Too Good At Book-Keeping. 

[bonyassfish]

I don’t think I'm surprised at the results of the depp v. heard trial, but I'm dreading what comes now. for one, amber now has to pay her abuser for the crime of discussing his abuse (without even using his name) in public. millions of dollars she now has to pay to him and therefore will be unable to give to charity. not to mention that, even if her career manages to stay afloat, she will be now be forever seen as “that bitch who defamed uwu man-baby hero Johnny fucking d*pp.” (Never mind that the jury also found that he defamed her too, because we all know none of his supporters will care about that.)

but the implications go so far beyond amber heard. now Marilyn Manson is suing Evan Rachel Wood in a similar bullshit lawsuit. now there is a convinient story for abusers to latch onto. “I'm being framed like my hero Johnny Depp!!”

as for survivors of domestic abuse, there is now a clear and distinct message that if you dare to fight back against your abuser, then the abuse is just as much your fault as theirs. if you hide the abuse you’re a liar. if you document the abuse you’re a liar. and if you dare discuss it publicly, you are responsible for “ruining” your abuser’s reputation. 

perhaps the only solace I can take from this is that despite what d*pp and his supporters desperately want you to believe, this trial victory cannot and will not save his career, because the supposed “defamation” is not what caused his career to flounder, or what caused him to lose most of his money. some of his money may or may not have been lost due to mismanagement, but most of it is gone due to his excessive lifestyle. as per Rolling Stone:

“There was $75 million for 14 residences. He spent $3 million to shoot his pal Hunter S. Thompson’s ashes into the sky from a cannon. A mere $7,000 to buy his daughter a couch from the set of Keeping Up With the Kardashians. He bought some 70 guitars and 200 pieces of art, including Basquiats and Warhols, owned 45 luxury vehicles and spent $200,000 a month on private air travel...There are a few things Depp insists TMG [Depp’s former management company, who sued him in 2016] got wrong – for example, the $30,000 a month the Mandels claimed he spent on wine. ‘It’s insulting to say that I spent $30,000 on wine, because it was far more’...Depp says they got the Hunter S. Thompson cannon story wrong too. ‘By the way, it was not $3 million to shoot Hunter into the fucking sky,’ says Depp. ‘It was $5 million.’... According to TMG’s lawsuit, Depp never had more than six months of savings in the bank. This grew exponentially worse after the Pirates of the Caribbean series began, earning him approximately $300 million...But Depp’s tastes grew wilder, and daily conversations between Mandel and Christi revolved around either trying to stop Depp from buying another house or finding a project that would pay for the new house.”

as to his career, again, this loss is nobody's fault but his own. as detailed in Rolling Stone: 

“There were reports he couldn’t remember his lines and had to have them fed to him through an earpiece. He had split from his longtime lawyer and agent. And he was alone...[Depp] claims he battled with Disney screenwriters repeatedly [about his character Jack Sparrow]...Depp kept a sound engineer on the payroll so he could feed him lines through an earpiece while filming. This Depp does not deny”

(Of course, you might think that the author of that article, Stephen Rodrick, is also trying to vilify Depp. but if that’s the case, why haven’t he and Rolling Stone been sued?)

Additionally, during this trial, Depp’s former longtime agent testified that his chronic lateness, high salary demands, and drug addiction led to his star waning in Hollywood, not Heard’s allegations. At the same time, Disney executive Tina Newman testified that Disney had concerns about his behaviour on the set of Dead Men Tell No Tales and in general

[aj-the-cat]

Lawless

Character List and general info

Hello! I have decided, after weeks of daydreaming and planning with my best friend, that i would make a story of my own! Below is general info, the character list and the plot. The character list will be changing and growing as the story goes on. Enjoy!

Rating: PG-14 (Cussing, violence, hints of sexual themes, dirty talks, alcohol use and some hints at slavery and racism. This is the old west, there was lots of it.)

If you are uncomfortable with homosexual themes please do not read this story.

Location: Solidarity, Texas, in an area called Scorpion's Roost. (A purely fictitious area)

Character List:

The Undertaker- Scorpion Roost's local mortician. He mostly keeps to himself, either making coffins in his workspace or drinking at the local saloon. Nobody knows his real name, so they just call him 'The Undertaker' and he stuck with it. Rumors have floated around that he's actually dead, but people are too afraid to be near him to find out.

Kane- The Undertaker's little brother. Nobody knows what he looks like under his bandanna, and his left eye is bandaged heavilly. People say it was because of a fire his older brother started. There are also rumors floating around that he is a supernatural being as well.

Stone Cold- Also known as The Rattlesnake to bandits and low life's. He currently holds the badge of '#1 Bounty Hunter' reluctantly given to him by the mayor of Scorpion's Roost. For some reason those two have a serious vendetta. He also hates the band of bandits known as The Kliq, and especially their leader, Shawn Michaels. Enjoys drinking and talking to the bartender at the Saloon.

Shawn Michaels- Leader of the bandof bandits known as The Kliq. He is on the run from Stone Cold but settled in Scorpion's Roost. Widely known for his bratty attitude and mischievous antics. Only his best friend, Triple H, can keep him in check. He's also known for sleeping around and has a large reputation for it.

Triple H- Best friend of Shawn Michaels and is in The Kliq. He keeps Shawn in check all the time and has to get him out of sticky situations. Like running from Stome Cold. A bit of a pussy when it comes to firing a gun but can deal quite a bit of damage with a sledgehammer. He has an eye on the mayor's daughter, Stephanie.

Chyna- Self-appointed bartender at the Saloon and secret member of The Kliq. Talks with Stone Cold a lot to learn about his plans of action against The Kliq. Shes the only female in The Kliq so she comes of as acting like a mom but they dont mind. Often has to help Triple H with dealing with Shawn.

Kevin Nash- Also known as Diesel to anyone not in The Kliq. He's an expert gunman but only chooses to shoot when in absolute danger. Despite his big size and cold looking demeanor, he's just a big child and loves to have fun. He especially loves messing around with Stone Cold and throw him off the trail of the others. And everybody knows he's in a relationship with Scott Hall and will protect him with his life.

Scott Hall- Also known as Razor to anyone not in The Kliq. He's very chill but still loves to mess around. Nobody has seen him without a toothpick in his mouth, Shawn even claims he sleeps with one between his teeth. He loves to fight and even knocked out Stone Cold with a right hook. Kevin had to save him. Everybody knows about his relationship with Kevin and even though he's smaller, he's been known to punch anyone who looks at Kevin the wrong way.

Vince McMahon- Mayor of Scorpion's Roost. Extremely money driven and cares a lot about the town's finances and his daughter. He spoils her. He, for some reason, hates Stone Cold. Nobody has figured out why. He also has a weird tendency to yell 'You're Fired!' out of nowhere.

Stephanie McMahon- Vince's only daughter. She's spoiled to all hell and still hates ner noble life. She longs to be part of The Kliq, and is enamored with the leaders best friend. On her 21st birthday she plans to escape her dads hold on her and join The Kliq, but shes tied with a fiance and noble life.

Chris Jericho- One of the escapees from the slave trade from Canada. Blonde, loud-mouth, insult hurling twink with absolutely no filter but has an eye for a certain bald bounty hunter. And yet he hides it so well nobody knows. He chooses to go for bright colors ladies usually wear to make him stand out.

Plot: (I suck at writing plots/summaries so bear with me here)

Since turning immortal, The Undertaker has lost all mortal emotions and feelings. Or so he thought. When a young bandit flees into town, he finds himself fighting with his own mind about the bandit. He hates to admit it, but he think he might be in love. (God thats cheesy)

After fleeing the expert bounty hunter for who knows what this time is, Shawn Michaels finds himself in Scorpion's Roost. After exploring the town and landing himself in the Saloon, messing with the patrons is the best option to him. But one particular one catches his eye. Shawn doesnt believe in love, but this one person might change his beliefs. (Thats cheesy as hell too)

[laura-elizabeth91]

FROM 2019

Matt Chorley: behind the scenes at 10 Downing Street

Times political expert Matt Chorley speaks with former prime ministers, senior civil servants and spin doctors to find out what the new inhabitant of No 10 can expect in his first 48 hours in office (whoever he may be)

Not many people get to do it. In the past half-century, more people have walked on the Moon than across the threshold of No 10 as a new prime minister.

When the new prime minister stands on those famous steps next Wednesday afternoon he will find it a daunting prospect. They always do. Sir John Major felt it had come too soon. When he was confirmed as the new PM in 1990, his wife, Norma, turned to a friend and asked, “Is it going to be all right?”

Britain’s political system does not allow for a slow and careful transition between administrations, as in America. Some, like Gordon Brown, have years to prepare. Others, like Theresa May, a matter of days. This time, the new prime minister will be named on Tuesday and he will take office the next day, stepping on to a nonstop treadmill charging at 100mph.

“You’re never ready,” says Tony Blair. “The one thing you realise the moment you come into government is that campaigning to be the government is completely different from governing as the government.” Was he frightened? “Yeah, I was … ‘Frightened’ is perhaps not the right word, but I was somewhat overawed, yeah.”

Recalling that night in May 1997 as he willed the Tories to win more seats, fearing a New Labour landslide might spark some kind of constitutional crisis, he adds, “I think I was one of the very few sober people around that night and I was very sober and very, very conscious of the responsibility.”

For David Cameron, there was the psychodrama of five days of coalition talks, before it became clear that he would indeed be PM. Sitting in the leader of the opposition’s office in the Houses of Parliament, he called his wife: “Sam, love, you’d better get your frock ready. We’re going to see the Queen.”

And that is the first thing that happens even before you get to Downing Street: a trip to Buckingham Palace.

The Queen After PMQs on Wednesday, May will formally resign as PM, recommending to the Queen whom to summon as her successor. May will arrive at the palace in her prime ministerial limousine, but be driven away in a private car. The trappings of power fall away quickly.

The audience with the Queen can be a daunting moment, not least because she will remind the new PM that he is the 14th of her reign. Winston Churchill was her first.

Blair was waiting in a Buckingham Palace anteroom for his first audience with the Queen when an official approached to explain, “You don’t actually kiss the Queen’s hands in the ceremony of kissing hands. You brush them gently with your lips,” as he recalls in his memoir. This left the PM-in-waiting baffled, wondering if this meant brushing like a pair of shoes or the very lightest of touches.

Before he had time to work it out, he was ushered in, tripping on a piece of carpet and almost falling directly upon the Queen’s hands – “not so much brushing them as enveloping them”.

Margaret Thatcher insisted her audiences with the Queen were “quietly businesslike”, although she said stories about tensions between the two women were simply “too good not to make up”.

Cameron had a habit of blurting out details of his conversations with the Queen – famously that she “purred” down the phone to him after Scotland voted no to independence.

The speech From the palace it is a short mile and a half car journey down the Mall and Whitehall to Downing Street to address the nation. This speech matters.

“The new PM must first write notes only to be opened in the event of an apocalypse

It has grown in significance. For Thatcher quoting St Francis of Assisi (“Where there is discord, may we bring harmony”), it was a few snatched words to a huddle of cameras. These days it is a big lectern moment. As with May’s “burning injustices”, those first words on the steps of No 10 can set the tone for a premiership, and come back to haunt you.

With the world’s media gathered opposite No 10 and news helicopters hovering overhead, the narrow street creates a cauldron of noise.

It was easier for Blair – Labour apparatchiks had packed the street with Union Jack-waving party supporters. A decade later Brown took no chances. On the morning he became prime minister he went into a room in the Treasury with his gatekeeper Sue Nye and spin doctor Damian McBride to practise delivering his speech without notes – “I will try my utmost” – while his two aides played the role of protesters.

“Boo!” shouted Nye. “You’re a bad man!”

McBride got more into it: “Why did you sell the gold, Gordon? You ruined my pension! You’ve got blood on your hands!” At this last insult Brown stopped mid-speech and demanded to know, “Why is there blood on my hands?”

Some are more memorable than others – Cameron declaring, “This is going to be hard and difficult work,” had the hallmarks of a speech written in haste. It was also delivered in the dark, thanks to the Dark Lord of spin, Peter Mandelson. He advised Brown to leave in the early evening, still in daylight, knowing that by the time Cameron reached Downing Street the gloom would have descended.

The door Having delivered the speech in a blaze of flashbulbs, the new prime minister will turn and walk towards perhaps the most famous door in the world. This is the moment he will have fantasised about.

Waiting behind the door will be Sir Mark Sedwill, the cabinet secretary, at least for now. There has been speculation he could face the chop, although the new PM might soon realise they have bigger things to worry about.

The cabinet secretary, the most senior civil servant in the country, welcomes the new prime minister and their spouse (if they have one) before the couple walk towards the cabinet room, down the corridor lined with Downing Street staff who just an hour earlier will have waved off Team May. Lord O’Donnell, former cabinet secretary under Blair, Brown and Cameron, says, “You’ve got a very frenetic hour when you’re rearranging the furniture. You’re trying to work out precisely what our new prime minister might want. It’s horrible. It’s … barbaric, actually, is the word I would use.”

The changeover is brutal in its speed and efficiency. On the night in 2010 when Brown left Downing Street he was barely out the door when Jeremy Heywood, the No 10 permanent secretary, told staff to “snap out of it. We have a job to do.” And so they dried their eyes and prepared for Cameron’s arrival.

“It’s a bit mawkish really,” says Baroness Bertin, who entered No 10 as Cameron’s press secretary. “You can still, you know, smell them. They’ve only just left. The pizza boxes were still in the bin. We all trooped into Gordon Brown’s office and the table had scratch marks and indentation marks where we imagined mobile phones had been smashed into it.”

The civil servants will line up, clap and smile and make their new boss feel welcome. This tradition is born not out of servitude to new masters but a more practical purpose: in the pre-television age, it was a chance for Downing Street staff to see the new PM and their team up close so they could recognise them about the place.

“It’s very noisy,” recalls Katie Perrior, who entered No 10 in 2016 as May’s director of communications. “There’s lots of back-patting and people are realising, ‘We’re here now.’ ”

Anji Hunter, Blair’s adviser, says this moment illustrates the professionalism of the civil service. “They don’t display their political affiliations. That same group of people had been there an hour before we were there, weeping as Major left with Norma. They had clapped out John Major and they clapped us in, beaming, literally beaming and delightful.”

Blair arrived deeply suspicious of the civil service, believing they were beholden to the long-running outgoing Conservative administration. The same was true of Cameron when he moved in after 13 years of New Labour. “Actually, within almost hours that’s completely gone,” says O’Donnell.

While the clapping and smiling have been going on, the cabinet secretary has run round the back corridor to be waiting for the PM outside the cabinet room.

The cabinet room Stepping into the famous cabinet room can be an emotional moment. Blair said he pictured “a thousand images fluttering through my mind” of Disraeli and Gladstone and Asquith, Lloyd George and Churchill and every other great statesman who had held court and power in this room.

David Cameron, alongside wife Samantha, is ushered into the cabinet room for the first time by cabinet secretary Gus O’Donnell, May 11, 2010ANDREW PARSONS/I-IMAGES

A photographer captured the moment Cameron had his head in his hands as he entered the room, as the enormity of it all dawned on him. O’Donnell was to his left, while to his right was his wife, Samantha, pregnant with their daughter, Florence, who was allowed to enjoy the private moment of history before being whisked off.

By tradition all the chairs around the cabinet table are neatly pushed in; the prime minister’s seat is at an angle. It is also the only chair with arms.

The PM sits. Waiting on the vast coffin-shaped table is bottled water, still and sparkling, and a small dish of mints. It is going to be an intense first meeting. After all the euphoria, the applause and the smiles, it quickly gets serious. Really serious.

The letters One of the first jobs is to write letters to the UK’s Trident submarine commanders giving targeting instructions only to be opened in the event of a nuclear attack where communications with London have broken down.

“Cameron held an ‘Ibiza-style rave’ at Chequers for his wife’s birthday

The chief of the defence staff, General Sir Nicholas Carter, is likely to be on hand to offer advice. However, nobody knows what the PM puts in the letters, which are sealed and taken to the Clyde naval base in Scotland where the submarines are based, with whichever boat is at sea having its letter on board.

The PM must also name a dozen ministers and advisers who would be given a space in the underground nuclear bunker, alongside their families, in the event of Armageddon.

Joining them around the cabinet table might be the heads of the security services. There will be a fast update on the most pressing issues of national security: live counterterror operations, imminent threats and urgent decisions delayed by their predecessor.

“This isn’t exactly an easy first couple of meetings,” says O’Donnell.

“It’s incredibly scary,” agrees Lord Wood of Anfield, a foreign policy adviser to Brown. “It’s a particular kind of torture to make the first act of a prime minister, literally within 30 seconds, this extraordinarily dramatic act of handwritten notes only to be opened in the event of an apocalypse.”

That moment encapsulates the feeling of loneliness that so many prime ministers have spoken of. There is no one to share it with, nowhere to turn. The buck stops with you and you alone.

The team While things are calm but serious in the cabinet room, outside all hell could be breaking loose as the PM’s political team get to meet their new colleagues, tour their new office and try to grab the best desks.

In 2007, while Brown was at the palace his team had a 2pm appointment at the “link door”, a Star Trek-like glass capsule door that connects the cabinet office with the rear of No 10.

“You walk into the pod,” recalls Wood. “It shuts behind you and then hopefully opens in front of you. There was a line of women on the other side who were the PAs, the Garden Room girls and assistants. And we were kind of matched one a piece, a bit like Strictly.

“And the thing I remember is that they all looked very red-eyed. And I only realised three years later when I left, they were crying because they’d just said goodbye to the Blair team. Within half an hour they were hoovering the floor and then lining up waiting for their new team.”

Once through, the political team will rush through the corridors of No 10 to be there to greet the new PM as he walks through the door.

Some teams are better prepared than others. Jonathan Powell, Blair’s chief of staff, held talks with the civil service and even trained frontbenchers in how to be a minister. “I remember Tony not wanting to know anything about that,” Hunter recalls. “Superstitious is the word.”

Keen to make a first impression in 2016, Perrior made a speech to civil service press officers about the importance of loyalty. “Don’t screw me over and I’ve got your back.”

For aides and advisers, the first days will also mean detailed security checks, especially for those covering foreign affairs, defence and national security.

Wood says, “My understanding is that the inquiries have evolved from questions about sexual and other matters to questions about money. I think they care much more now about financial exposure than private life exposure.”

The incoming team will also be warned against using their personal email addresses for government business, and to be wary when travelling abroad, to assume that foreign governments are listening in.

Sue Nye gave Brown’s team some extra advice: always carry your paperwork in a folder (to avoid official documents being snapped by photographers waiting in Downing Street). And never run.

“I was with the prime minister quite a lot, travelling around the world,” says Wood. “If you’re caught on camera running, it looks like something’s gone wrong.”

The house It is a strange quirk of British politics that the entire country is run from three terraced houses knocked together to form the office, state rooms and home of the prime minister.

O’Donnell calls it a “Tardis”. Wood says it is like a “slightly run-down Georgian country hotel”. Bertin remembers “being so overwhelmed really by No 10, the actual presence, actually being in that building, the smell of it. It just was like a sensory overload.”

If changing jobs is hard enough, becoming prime minister also comes with one of life’s most stressful experiences: moving house. The flat over No 11 Downing Street is slightly bigger and has in recent years been taken by the prime minister. At the end of a long day they can head to one of the small lifts that takes them to the top floor. Although in time prime ministers often make a habit of taking the stairs, the only form of exercise they get during an office-bound day running the country.

“Brown struggled to relax at No 10. ‘He didn’t enjoy living above the shop’

New PMs routinely try to suggest they might like to stay in their own home, before security becomes too much. Security arrangements for children and wider family will also have to be agreed. O’Donnell jokes, “We all know from Bodyguard what that can lead to.”

For new prime ministers not used to the increased security, this can come as a shock. On his first day in office, Major went to walk from No 10 to the House of Commons for lunch, but was stopped by police who made it clear this would be impossible for as long as he was PM.

For PMs with young children, working below the flat could be a blessing, allowing them to slope off for an hour. The Cameron children would often be seen playing in their pyjamas as dignitaries visited.

Brown, by contrast, struggled to relax. Wood says, “He didn’t enjoy living above the shop.” Home remained in Scotland, while the Downing Street flat “felt a little bit like a place you were staying in for a long weekend with a few Sainsbury’s bags full of milk”.

Discussions will also have to be had about the position of the new PM’s wife or girlfriend, whether they plan to play a visible role, and whether their own job or interests present a potential political conflict that could derail a premiership in its infancy.

There will be questions of changing artworks, even redecorating, but they can come later.

The new PM has not just one new home, but two. There is also the grace-and-favour country retreat at Chequers, where they are likely to head to for their first weekend.

May used to enjoy using the pool. Thatcher was so concerned with the electricity bills she had the pool’s heating switched off. Blair added a tennis court and invited celebrity friends to stay. Cameron held an “Ibiza-style rave” for his wife’s birthday.

When Major became prime minister he inherited a Chequers reception from Thatcher, but had no guests. So he asked O’Donnell, the PM’s press secretary at the time, who to invite. He replied instantly, “Well, Bobby Charlton ...”

“We just reeled out these people that we’d all love to meet,” says O’Donnell. “We had Jenny Agutter and a whole bunch of cricketers.”

The reshuffle Before unwinding in the Buckinghamshire countryside, there is the small matter of putting together a government.

If the updates on the state of the nation’s security are sensitive, the details of the reshuffle require perhaps even higher levels of secrecy. A small office just off the cabinet room is used for reshuffles, which means the door can be locked so ministerial posts are not spotted by prying eyes. “You need to make sure that you can’t have someone going in moving the names around,” says O’Donnell.

In comes a whiteboard to write people’s names on with magnets. In 2010, as the coalition government was being put together, disaster struck. “For some reason the magnetic thing stopped and all the names dropped off,” Bertin recalls. “I’m sure some people got different jobs as a result.”

The number of ministerial jobs is limited by law to 90 MPs, and a total of 109 paid posts including 22 paid cabinet positions. Downing Street staff are tasked with finding out where key people are in preparation for them to be called in for a job – without letting on why.

Both May and Major were propelled into No 10 with such haste they had given little thought to their top team. Brown, by contrast, had been planning it for months, perhaps years, right down to every junior minister and aide. “As with all these things, it goes well until it doesn’t, and then like dominoes you’ve got to rebuild the whole thing,” recalls Wood.

Margaret Beckett was let go as foreign secretary, making way for David Miliband. “It went down like a ton of shit,” says one of Wood’s former colleagues. “She has never forgiven Gordon.”

“Of the many gifts she received, May chose to keep only hosiery from a firm called Luxury Legs

In addition to the rather quaint idea of choosing the right person for each job, other considerations are also taken into account: in the New Labour years it meant balancing Blairites and Brownites; the coalition had to have the right number of Tories and Lib Dems; since 2016, balancing Remainers and Leavers has been seen as critical.

It is likely that only the very top jobs – chancellor, foreign secretary and home secretary – will be announced on Wednesday night. The rest of the cabinet will be rolled out on Thursday, with more junior jobs to follow.

Where the coalition had got into the habit of announcing reshuffles on Twitter, Team May thought this too Cameroon and opted for formal press releases with the Downing Street crest on.

Would-be ministers are brought into Downing Street through the front door or via the cabinet office and left in a small waiting room just off the main entrance to No 10.

“You know what I’ve got, don’t you?” a nervous Boris Johnson asked Perrior on the evening of July 13, 2016. “Yes,” she replied. “But it’s not for me to tell you. It’s for the prime minister. So you just have to wait a little bit longer.” He was then summoned to the cabinet room to be offered the job of foreign secretary, before returning to a makeshift photographer’s studio in a side office where portraits would be taken to mark the occasion.

A slick operation. But not perfect. At one point George Osborne, still resident in No 11, walked past just as someone was shouting, “Can you just repeat that? Philip Hammond is the new chancellor?” Osborne winked and carried on. Perrior explains, “George Osborne got fired via someone shouting in a corridor a little bit loudly.”

The switchboard For new arrivals into Downing Street, “Switch” is about to change their lives. The Downing Street switchboard is staffed around the clock by a team of crack operatives able to get anyone on the phone anywhere at a moment’s notice.

Technology has obviously changed its role. Major and Blair didn’t have a mobile phone. Brown was less of a stickler for process, and would text and email at all hours. These days a prime minister could bypass Switch by whatsapping their ministers, advisers or other world leaders. They could also bypass their press teams by firing off tweets, creating the havoc that Donald Trump seems to thrive on in the White House.

“If Donald Trump were prime minister,” says O’Donnell, “I would have kittens, because that’s just not the way our system works.”

The first job for Switch will be to co-ordinate the congratulatory phone calls. Traditionally, the president of the United States is the first wellwisher to get through.

George W Bush was the first to call Brown. Three years later the White House was on the line again. “I’m speaking to you now from No 10 for the first time,” Cameron told Obama, with a wink to his team.

Expect President Trump to be first on the line next week, too. Or perhaps he will just tweet. Might an early call from Germany’s Angela Merkel or Ireland’s Leo Varadkar help to oil the wheels of a new Brexit deal? Also listening in to those calls will be the chief of staff, special advisers, foreign policy experts and press aides charged with briefing out (some of) what is said.

There will also be hundreds, if not thousands, of calls from friends and family. O’Donnell says, “These may be the extended family that the prime minister’s forgotten all about. They may feel that now their third cousin twice removed has become prime minister, they really need to congratulate them.”

The gifts For some, phoning is not enough. Gifts, many terribly expensive, are dispatched. Anything worth more than £140 is seized by the cabinet office, and if the PM wants to keep it they have to pay for it. In July 2017 May was sent shoes, clothes and make-up. She chose to keep only hosiery from a firm called Luxury Legs.

And then the flowers. Thatcher joked in her memoirs that so many bouquets were sent to No 10 during her final days that “you could hardly move down the corridors for a floral display that rivalled the Chelsea Flower Show”. And they all had to go before the new PM arrived, with even more blooms.

Perrior says, “The place looks like someone’s died. I feel for anybody who has hayfever.”

The office Blair found Downing Street so cramped he considered moving the office of the prime minister to the QEII conference centre. Cameron toyed with moving upstairs to one of the grand state rooms looking out over Horse Guards Parade, where Thatcher had worked, before discovering there were no phone or IT connections. Instead, he chose the room used by Blair, then known as the “den”.

Bertin was not impressed. “It was a bit of a mess, if I’m honest. It was tiny. There were sort of, you know, stains on the carpet.”

When May, who inherited Cameron’s office, visited Perrior in her oak-panelled corner room overlooking the garden, she remarked how nice it was. “I said something along the lines of, ‘Keep your hands off … You are not taking this office.’ ”

In most workplaces having your own office would be a sign of status, but in Downing Street it can leave you cut off from the action.

Chiefs of staff position themselves right outside the prime minister’s office, deciding who gets in and who doesn’t. Everyone insists that the prime minister wants them to be in the room, closest to them, at all times.

“May’s thank-you party for staff came many weeks later, highlighting early on the lack of people skills that would bring her low

“You felt sometimes that you should hover,” says Wood. “Hopefully you caught someone’s eye and then they’d say, ‘Oh, you’d better come in.’ Proximity was everything.”

Under May there was to be no hovering. A sofa outside the PM’s office, used by hoverers, was removed. “It was made clear that you do not linger in this office,” Perrior recalls. “You are only to come when you are invited.”

In the early days of the May regime a small side office was commandeered by her chiefs of staff, Fiona Hill and Nick Timothy.

It became known as the “bollocking room”. “You knew that if you were asked to go in there … it was not going to be necessarily pleasant,” says Perrior.

Cameron had formality forced upon him: the coalition meant Nick Clegg (and his Lib Dem team) were squatters in No 10. Decisions had to be taken formally by both parties, not by a select clique. Conservative spin doctors and policy advisers were told to share offices with their Lib Dem opposite numbers. “I can remember being pissed off about that,” says Bertin, although she now admits it was the right way to ensure the coalition worked.

The night On Wednesday night civil servants will be encouraging the new PM to go to bed early, knowing what onslaught awaits the next day.

In 2007, at around 9pm, Brown went back to his flat – handily for the former chancellor, just upstairs – where his wife, Sarah, cooked dinner and close friends celebrated with champagne.

Next week, the new PM will likely head to their own home, because the Mays will not have moved out. But that does not mean time to switch off. They will have their red boxes of papers to work through, covering everything from a draft speech to a natural disaster or a parliamentary crisis. There is also the black box, known as “Old Stripey” due to its red stripe, that contains the most sensitive material, which even as foreign secretary Jeremy Hunt or Boris Johnson might not have seen.

Before heading off, it is probably wise to gather people for a pep talk, bringing together political advisers and civil servants to begin to cement them into a team. In 2007, Brown told the assembled workers in the Pillared Room, “It’s not every day you meet the Queen at 1.30pm, become the prime minister at 2.45pm, speak to the president of the United States at 4pm and get told by Sarah to put the kids to bed at 7pm.” Cameron made a speech joking about how he and Nick Clegg would get on better than Blair and Brown, which went down badly with those who’d spent years working for the Labour PMs.

May’s thank-you party for staff came many weeks later, highlighting early on the lack of people skills that in the end would bring her low.

The next day All prime ministers have a habit of starting early, and for May’s replacement time will be of the essence. On Thursday teams will be assembled early, at around 6am. The reshuffle will have to be completed, and the new prime minister is expected to make an appearance in the Commons before parliament rises for its six-week summer recess.

The diary will already be filling up. And it will be nonstop and baffling and relentless. Wood explains, “At 7am, you’re meeting with the Scottish Bagpipe Association, who’ve got a problem with tax treatment, and then at 8.15am you’ve got a phone call with the Armenian president ’cause there’s a problem on the border, and then at 9am you’ve got a policy meeting about long-term health policy. And you’ve got to fight against this tendency always to put aside the long-term stuff because there’s always enough short-term stuff to really consume you.”

The departure Like all good things, premierships come to an end. A new arrival in Downing Street means there has been a departure. Out with the old and in with the new.

In 2016, moments before Cameron went out to make his final speech, Bertin caught him just behind the No 10 door to tell him how proud she was of what he’d achieved. “Please don’t,” he said. “You’re going to make me cry.” When he came back in there were more tears, though he held it together. Just.

Leaving the building, and the power and influence it gives, is a wrench. Wood says, “It’s like handing over your most precious possession to someone else and resenting the fact that it’s not yours, but you want them to treat it well.”

Wood left a note to Bertin in 2010. When Bertin came to leave six years later she wrote a note to her children on No 10 paper, saying, “This is what Mummy did.”

And so it ends as it began, with letters. Before leaving Brown wrote three letters: one to Cameron (left under a bottle of whisky), one to Nelson Mandela and one to Aung San Suu Kyi. Most prime ministers leave their successor a note, knowing they are one of just a handful of people alive who know what the job is really like.

Brown had a well-worn joke about this. He used to say that when you finish in your job and your successor is taking over, you hand them three envelopes. When there’s a crisis (and there always is), they open the first letter and it says, “Blame your predecessor.” The next crisis, the second letter says, “Blame the statistics.” And finally the third envelope says, “Prepare three envelopes.” To find out more about what happens when you become PM, listen to Matt Chorley’s Red Box podcast special on iTunes, Acast and Spotify

UK politics

David Cameron

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Comments(84)Newestuyjujy yujuyjujyU

SShayeWestL24 JULY, 2019This was just riveting. Thanks Matt, brilliantly put together.ReplyRecommendReport

JJohn Must21 JULY, 2019EditedDon't fret. Trump will sort it all out for you during the 4PM phone call.ReplyRecommendReport

JJohnny C20 JULY, 2019Great article!ReplyRecommendReport

DDuncan Bell20 JULY, 2019Great piece, except maybe for the photos. Very insightful.ReplyRecommendReport

JJohn Noel HUGHES-WILSON20 JULY, 2019Of course the incoming PM could say , 'No, I am not going to be told what to do by you lot. This is what I want to happen. Now do it.' The idea that the civil service dictate the handover merely hands them power. Who controls the agenda? Sir Humphrey or his boss?ReplyRecommendReport

MMatt - Not the other one20 JULY, 2019According to the Bible of political processes - Yes, Prime Minister - an incoming PM is only applauded if they've won an election. Whoever goes into No. 10 won't have. So, like Jim Hacker, he'll be met with silence.ReplyRecommendReport

HHelsinki20 JULY, 2019Mr Johnson : DON'T BOTHER UNPACKING You won't be there long enough.ReplyRecommendReport

Rramtops20 JULY, 2019I truly cannot envisage Johnson being up to the relentless pressure and grasp of detail required for this job. I'm really quite fearful.ReplyRecommendReport

MMr Malcolm Speirs20 JULY, 2019I do hope The Times hold on to Matt, and that he does not end up at Sky News (where many excellent print journalists have headed of late).ReplyRecommendReport

DDave20 JULY, 2019He will find an empty box labelled “Brexit Britain’s bright sunlit future” and a full waste basket labelled “Brexit Promises”ReplyRecommendReport

MMichael Rose20 JULY, 2019John Noel HUGHES-WILSONYou really have no idea about the workings of government, do you? I doubt that Boris Johnson can tie his own shoelaces, never mind tell them what the civil service should be doing.ReplyRecommendReport

JJohnny C20 JULY, 2019John Noel HUGHES-WILSONMy father was a senior civil servant. He always said, Sir Humphrey ran the country. Yes Minister was how it really worked, most legislation is via Statutory Instruments penned by civil servants and signed into statute by clueless ministersReplyRecommendReport

MMichael Rose20 JULY, 2019Matt - Not the other oneOr hopefully a slow handclap.ReplyRecommendReport

MMichael Rose20 JULY, 2019ramtopsThink how how the majority in the country feels.ReplyRecommendReport

Oozodyssey21 JULY, 2019Mr Malcolm SpeirsHe does seem to be moonlighting in a number of different rolesReplyRecommendReport

TMatt ChorleySTAFF20 JULY, 2019Mr Malcolm SpeirsNo danger of that, I promise. Having too much fun hereReplyRecommendReport

JJohnny C20 JULY, 2019DaveAnd he will paint a bus onto the box full of smiling passengers The sort of people he'll meet in the asylum when his brain implodes due to the promises he made but couldn't fulfilReplyRecommendReport

[d3-iseefire]

Light in Her Darkness Chapter 5

Note: Mood board created by @fromtheboundlesssea​. Used with permission.

"And you're sure I'm not going to get skewered by a lightsaber?"

Bilba let out an exasperated huff. "For the last time, he’s not going to hurt you."

Her companion didn't look convinced, which was annoying. It had taken forever to find someone suitable, which she blamed completely on Kili. He was irritating so it made sense that anything related to him would be equally as obnoxious.

She’d had to find a young man, approximately the height, weight and build of what she appeared to be in her modified armor. He also needed to be attractive which is where she’d struggled the most as, outside of the aforementioned height and build, she had no idea what Kili found appealing.

She’d eventually realized that he’d only ever seen her in a helmet which meant he most likely didn’t know either. After that she’d just looked around until she’d found people she felt fit the definition of attractive and gone from there.

Of course, even then her irritation had continued as many potential candidates had bowed out the second she’d said the word “Jedi.”

Cowards.

The young man who’d finally fit all the criteria and agreed even after hearing the word Jedi raised an eyebrow expectantly. Bilba rolled her eyes and reached for her credit pouch. She wasn’t sure why paying him more would encourage him. If she was wrong, he’d be dead either way and unable to spend said credits.

Aldaron, if she recalled correctly, grinned as she handed the credits over. He had shoulder length dark hair, dark eyes and a quick smile. He was a very nice young man all things considered and Bilba would never have asked him to do anything if she wasn’t completely sure it was safe.

The fact she was that certain was…not something she felt like thinking about.

“You remember what I said?” she asked for the thirteenth or so time.

He huffed in exasperation. “Yes, it’s not complicated.”

Bilba nodded in satisfaction. “He won’t see it coming.” Kili Durin was incapable of taking anything seriously. He’d never suspect her and, even if he did, he’d still fall for it because he didn’t think her capable of actually capturing him.

Jerk.

She’d show him. Her plan would work and then her mission would be over, and the bastard would leave her alone and she wouldn’t have to put up with Durin anymore and…that would be that.

Her life could go back to normal.

Endless days of nothing, by herself with no one to talk to and nobody to look forward to aside for the next bounty. Constantly looking over her shoulder, worrying about Shire finding her.

Aldaron’s eyes narrowed. He leaned one shoulder against the wall of the building they stood next to and studied her. “You don’t seem all that sure about this.”

Bilba’s scowled in annoyance. “Just get it done. The longer we sit out here talking the greater the chance he decides to leave.”

Aldaron shrugged and pushed off the wall. “Your credits.”

“That’s right,” Bilba said, trying to sound intense the way her father always had. “My credits and my plan, so get to it.”

He chuckled, which was not at all the result she’d been aiming for and headed into the club.

Bilba watched him go and then melted back into the shadows of yet another alley and settled into wait. She should start a business, tours of alleys across the universe. If she did, this one would make her list of which alleys to not visit. It was on one of the lower levels of Coruscant, Kili’s latest stop in his trek to nowhere, and to say it was seedy would be a gross understatement. For not the first time, Bilba was grateful for the filters in her helmet as she was sure the stench alone would have knocked her flat.

She was rather impressed it hadn’t knocked Aldaron flat as he’d had nothing at all to stand between him and what had to be a layer of smell so strong it probably qualified as a living organism on at least a dozen planets.

She lounged against the wall and tried her best to blend in, just another miscreant doing whatever it was one did on the lower levels. It helped that it was almost perpetual night that low. Most light was blocked by the massive structures of the upper levels and what little light that did manage to come through usually just made things worse.

The fact it was hard to see down there was a good thing.

No one wandering past paid her much mind. On any other planet she might have stood out but here she blended in. Most people down this far had reason for it and sticking your nose where it didn’t belong was a good way to ensure your reason became public knowledge.

Her parents had briefly considered using the lower levels of Coruscant to hide out, back in those early days. They’d ultimately decided against it for two reasons. The first had been the fact that the bounty on her mother was high enough to gain the attention of the crime syndicates that ruled the underworld, people powerful enough they could pretty much do whatever they wanted without fear of consequence. Had her mother been recognized, it would have left her surrounded with very little chance of escape.

The second reason for them deciding not to stay had been Bilba. Her mother had found out she was pregnant shortly after her parents had fled Shire, and Belladonna had refused to raise her daughter in what she’d deemed a cesspool of criminal activity.

Bilba had often wondered what might have happened had her mother not been pregnant. If perhaps they’d tried the lower levels after all, maybe gone down far enough that no one cared or could be bothered to look. Would it have made a difference; had she never been born?

Would her parents still be alive?

She frowned and shifted her stance, forcibly pulling her mind to the present. She tried to avoid staying still too long for this very reason, she tended to get melancholy. She scowled and then deliberately turned her attention toward Kili, confident in his ability to piss her off even when not present.

He was probably in there right that very second, flirting with Aldaron the same way he’d flirted with her in the past. Fickle bastard. How dare he? He was lucky she was doing this the nice way and not just marching in and shooting him.

Footsteps approached and she blinked in surprise to see Aldaron returning already.

“What are you doing?” she asked in confusion. “You couldn’t have gotten it done that fast.”

Could he have? The thought that Kili might have gone for someone that fast after having expressed interest in her caused a cold heat to run through her and her fingers clenched as if curled around her still holstered blaster.

“Not his type.” Aldaron mirrored her pose against the wall and grinned. “Sorry.”

“Not hard enough,” Bilba muttered. Stupid Kili. He’d had no trouble flirting with someone in a full suit of armor and a helmet, but he chose now to be picky? She officially hated him. No wonder the Bastard had a bounty out on him, it was a wonder half the galaxy didn’t. “Go back in,” she managed to grit out between clenched teeth, “and find out what his type is. Discretely.”

That got her a raised eyebrow so, with a growl of annoyance, Bilba yanked out her credit pouch and dumped the entire thing into his hand. “I expect a detailed list.”

Aldaron shrugged and vanished back inside. Behind him, Bilba resisted the urge to beat her head against the wall. Why did it have to be Kili Durin? Why? She was pretty sure he existed purely to piss her off.

She stood in the center of the alley in a wide stance, arms crossed and uncaring of who saw her until Aldaron returned, looking inordinately smug. “Well?”

“Humanoid females,” he said cheerfully.

“That’s ridiculous,” Bilba said shortly. “He flirted with me, more than once.”

Aldaron raised both eyebrows and looked to be fighting a grin, which really was insulting. “Did he now? Well, I don’t know what to tell you. You said to find out his type, that’s his type.” He moved back a step and swept into an exaggerated bow. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.” He tossed her credit pouch up in the air, caught it and then left with a literal skip in his step.

“Idiot,” Bilba muttered. He’d get robbed before he made it twenty-five feet if he was that obvious about having credits.

She glared at the wall of the building as if she could see through it and physically kill Kili Durin where he stood. Humanoid female? What the blazes? There was no possible way that could make sense when he’d been flirting with her unless…

Her mind ground to a halt.

No. No. He didn’t know. He couldn’t possibly know. Her armor was modified, her voice changed, even her stance and walk when she was playing the part of her father. She’d done everything right, fooled every person she’d ever met.

But have you ever fooled a Jedi?

Her mouth ran dry as the thought ran through her mind. She knew what Jedi were, knew what they were capable of, or thought she had anyway, but she’d never actually met one before Durin. Her parents hadn’t either.

Could he know? Was there some weird Jedi thing that let him know she was pretending to be something she wasn’t?

Worse yet, could he somehow know what she looked like?

Dread settled like a cold rock in her gut, and her breath grew short. Don’t be ridiculous, she chided herself. Jedi weren’t that powerful, she hoped. Maybe he knew she was a woman, maybe, but it didn’t mean he knew what she looked like or, worse, who she was.

If he had, if he did, he’d had plenty of opportunity to get rid of her. He could have sold her out and made a ridiculous sum in the process, enough to make what the Bastard was paying look paltry. He could have lived the rest of his life paying off bounty hunters.

He didn’t know who she was, but he did know what she was, which meant…

The vestiges of an idea began to form. A bad idea. A very, very bad idea, but an idea. He didn’t know what she looked like, but he did know she was female, which, either way, meant pretty much the same thing it had meant before.

Kili Durin was entirely lacking in the most basic of standards.

And that meant…that as crazy and idiotic as her idea was, and it was, it could also potentially work.

And save her the rest of her credits in the meantime, which was a bonus.

She’d need to hurry if she was going to try, every second delayed was one more she risked Kili leaving or finding someone else to spend his time with.

Fickle bastard.

It took time to get back to her ship, so much that she also abandoned her plan entirely by the time she’d arrived. In the end, it was the memory of her last talk with the Bastard who’d hired her that kept her going. As expected, the bounty hunter she’d let live had reported her. It had taken everything she’d ever been taught by her father to convince her unwanted employer that it was all part of a plan. That she wasn’t helping Kili, she was setting him up. That one couldn’t go after a Jedi the way they would a normal person.

That she deserved another chance.

One.

One more chance.

If she failed this time…she didn’t know what would happen to her, or Kili. She didn’t know what would happen to Kili if she succeeded either, but she had a feeling he would be fine. He was a Jedi after all, and he’d killed seventeen bounty hunters. He’d be fine.

She was sure of it.

She was.

She went to her quarters and was promptly greeted by the small animal rolling about happily on her bed. A feeling of warmth washed through her, followed just as quickly by a sick feeling as she remembered who it was that had given her the tiny creature.

He’d be fine, she reminded herself. He hadn’t been the least bit upset to find out a bounty had been placed on him, which meant he was perfectly capable of taking care of himself.

She undressed quickly and showered, washing off the sweat and grime that always accumulated on her hair and body under the armor. After, she dried her hair and bound it into a loose braid before slowly pulling on a clean, black bodysuit. She didn’t really have anything else aside from her lounge clothes which weren’t appropriate for walking about the lower levels of Coruscant.

She slowed down even more pulling on her boots and, by the time she was dragging her gloves on, she was shaking.

She shut her eyes and let out a breath. “It’s fine,” she whispered. “It’s fine. No one’s going to recognize me.”

Something brushed against her leg and she jumped, but relaxed when she saw the small kitten happily twining around her ankles. She picked him up and he immediately curled against her. He was usually standoffish and more interested in destruction than attention from her, so it was a nice gesture.

Holding him did calm her nerves but did little to ease the way her had stomach had begun cramping, sending waves of nausea cresting through her.

She set the little animal on the bed and retrieved a small hood from the back of the trunk she kept at the base of her bed. It had once been part of her everyday attire before her father had died and she’d inherited his armor.

The black hood covered everything but her eyes and melded seamlessly to the neckline of her bodysuit. The material it was made of hugged her face, ensuring no one could catch a glimpse of her features through a gap.

Once it was on, she retrieved a dark gray cloak and draped it over her shoulders. The thick folds obscured the shape of her body and the deep hood she drew over her head further hid her face from security cameras or potential bounty hunters who might recognize her.

Or, rather, who might recognize her mother who she strongly resembled. There were no known pictures of her, aside from the one Shire had slapped on the bounties and it was a composite based off pictures of her parents.

It was, unfortunately, scarily accurate.

She found her belt and thigh holster, strapped them on and slid her blaster into place on her leg. She almost added her vibroblade but decided it would be too obvious. She did hide a few blades and added a second, smaller, blaster on a sheath slid inside an ankle holster but decided not to overdo it past that.

She left her room and headed toward the ship’s exit, hands flexing and unflexing at her sides. By the time she got to the door her muscles hurt from the tension and her head was pounding with the promise of an epic headache later.

“You can do this,” she told herself firmly, stopping before the exit. She’d go in, trick Kili like he so richly deserved, collect the bounty and be on her way. She’d vanish after, go underground for a few months and then come back an entirely different person, different ship, everything. It’d hurt, giving up her father’s name and ship but she had no choice. Not when the Bastard knew who she was and could ruin everything on a whim.

Her parents hadn’t given their lives so she could go out on a whim.

“Okay.” She let out a slow breath and then, before she could talk herself out of it, slapped the controls to raise the door. A rush of cold air and a stench stronger than anything she’d been imagining hit her and she resisted the urge to gag. She shivered and resisted the urge to wrap her arms around herself.

She felt naked without her armor.

Exposed, like eyes were watching her even though she knew they weren’t.

She took another breath and forced herself out of the ship.

Maybe, if she were extremely luck, Kili would just…up and surrender for no good reason and she could just immediately run back to the ship and put her armor back on.

One could hope.

Follow On AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18802591/chapters/44612674

[enigmaphenomenon]

Something’s up with Jack (Another Jack analysis)

I believe Handsome Jack has Borderline Personality Disorder. 

Let’s first go through the symptoms of BPD. In order to be diagnosed with BPD one needs to have repeated patterns of 5 out of 9 symptoms of BPD. I’ll go through the symptoms Jack displays. 

Google gives a very brief list of symptoms. I’ll highlight the ones Jack is shown having. 

Behavioral: antisocial behavior, compulsive behavior, hostility, impulsivity, irritability, risk taking behaviors, self-destructive behavior, self-harm, social isolation, or lack of restraint

Mood: anger, anxiety, general discontent, guilt, loneliness, mood swings, or sadness

Psychological: depression, distorted self-image, grandiosity, or narcissism

So let’s just dive right into his symptoms. I don’t...really need to provide examples of Jack’s narcissism, do I? Because that one is obvious as all hell. 

1)  An intense fear of abandonment, even going to extreme measures to avoid real or imagined separation or rejection. 

Oh yeah. And Jack reacts quite violently to what he perceives as betrayals and/or abandonment. If you trust Jack instead of Fiona at the end of Episode 2, and refuse to trust him in Episode 3 when he asks you too...uh...

“Oh. Oh, that’s a... shame. Because I thought--- I thought we were becoming pals. Saved your life back there and you...still don’t trust me? You know I’m uh...I’ve had to deal with this my whole damn life you know? You try to do the right thing and people just... crap all over you for it. Well, congrats kiddo. You’re the latest in a long line of Jack-shitters. Super psyched about it.” 

This isn’t the first time Jack mentions that he should have seen this all coming, he mentions it again at the end of Episode 5. 

“I should have seen this coming--ever since I came to this nacho-flavored shithole of a planet. I’ve been betrayed by everybody I gave rat’s ass about. My boss. My girlfriend. Hell...my goddamn daughter.” 

Then, of course, Jack telling Rhys...

And....

Jack has extreme violent reactions to people he views as being against him, even when they aren’t. Adding to this is Jack’s hatred of all vault-hunters due to Lilith and Roland’s betrayal and also his fear of being shot in the back if he lets his enemies live. Remember he was willing to forgive the Meriff and let him live until the Meriff tries to shoot Jack as he’s walking away. This then leads to Jack airlocking scientists just for the mere possibility one of them might be working for Zarpedon. Also, when Athena or whoever else you play suggest just rushing to the vault and not fighting Jack insists they all must die, stating that if you let your enemies live, they’ll shoot you in the back. 

2)  A pattern of unstable intense relationships, such as idealizing someone one moment and then suddenly believing the person doesn't care enough or is cruel. (People with BPD tend to have relationships that are intense and short-lived. You may fall in love quickly, believing each new person is the one who will make you feel whole, only to be quickly disappointed. Your relationships either seem perfect or horrible, with nothing in between. Your lovers, friends, or family members may feel like they have emotional whiplash from your rapid swings between idealization and devaluation, anger, and hate.)

Moxxi, Rhys, Angel, and his second wife. 

Moxxi says he was clingy and that’s why she dumped Jack, Jack blew up her slaughter dome thing due to this, but this doesn’t stop him from asking her for help to fight against Zarpedon. 

Rhys? Aw man just take a look at this switch. 

“Oh, wow. I wish I could hug you right now. I’m gonna make a robot that just hugs you when I tell it to. I’m so proud. I’m so proud of my special boy! This is a perfect partnership, Rhys. You trusted me. I trusted you, and now we’re here! Man--never really had a partner I could count on before. Feels kinda dope”

No Jack, Rhys doesn’t want a giant Endoskeleton to crawl inside his body. 

“This was YOUR chance to make history, you moron! To be part of a legacy! To matter for once in your useless little life!”

Angel doesn’t need to be explained right? In the ECHO logs in Borderlands 2 Jack cycles between being amiable towards her and then lashing out at her. 

His relationship with his second wife was ruined over him refusing to shut down the control core, and in an ECHO log it’s stated she disappeared shortly after telling Jack to shut down the control core. 

3) Identity disturbance, such as a significant and persistent unstable self-image or sense of self

Jack is a meglomaniac who sees himself as the hero and as a god, but, in BL2 he brings this up: 

"I know you think I'm a monster. You think I enslaved Angel. But you didn't see what she did to her mother. I had to restrain Angel's power. You get that? I had to."

He brings this up to the vault hunter. Why? What does he care what the vault hunter thinks of him? Jack sure as hell hasn’t cared at all about “bandits” opinions of him. And he really isn’t shy about blaming other people for something, come on, this is the same man who says he shot a baby because THE BABY was being a dick. 

Jack doesn’t blame Angel for betraying him. As he said in TFTBL, she had no choice. He also doesn’t say that vault hunters killed her. He says that she killed herself.

This is Jack being hit with the realization that his daughter is dead, and that he drove her to it. He’s the monster who enslaved Angel, but he says he had to do it (I’ll go deeper into this in a different essay). He had to to restrain her power, he had to, as if he didn’t have a choice. There is guilt behind these words. 

To compare, in Tomb Raider 2013 there was extra dialogue (that for some reason was not in the final version of the game) after Lara has her first kill, she tells herself “I had to do it. I had to do it.” That’s how Lara rationalizes taking a life. If she had not killed that man, he would have killed her, so she “had to.”

I believe its the same with Jack. There is guilt there. Why would he feel the need to defend his actions to the vault hunters? To the “bandits?” He saw Angel ask the vault hunters to end her life, he saw her call them friend, her last dying breath was needing to tell her father that he’s an asshole. Jack knows. He knows what he’s done. But he’s too mentally ill to accept it, or change it. If anything, that just drove him further into insanity. 

In TFTBL Jack also mentions that he knows where Rhys is coming from and imposter syndrome is normal, and to just strangle that voice in his head that says he’s not good enough. 

4) Impulsive and risky behavior, such as gambling, reckless driving, unsafe sex, spending sprees, binge eating or drug abuse, or sabotaging success by suddenly quitting a good job or ending a positive relationship

Hahahaha ooooooh yeaaaaah. 

Spending sprees: Butt Stallion

“My day? It's been pretty good. I just bought a pony made of diamonds, because I’m rich. So, you know. That’s cool.“

Unsafe sex: 

“If I’da just thrown stock options at the Vault Hunters instead of bullets, I’d be on a beach right now doing disturbingly graphic things with the local ladies.”

Drug abuse: 

He mashed up a mushroom and snorted it...a lot...

Primo hit of electri-drugs.

His chair also has contact activated Dopamine injectors. 

Jack drinks, a lot apparently, since he thought either sex or drinking would kill him. 

It really wouldn’t surprise me if Jack participated in orgies which he probably totally did.

5)  Extreme emotional swings. Unstable emotions and moods are common with BPD. One moment, you may feel happy, and the next, despondent. Little things that other people brush off can send you into an emotional tailspin. These mood swings are intense, but they tend to pass fairly quickly (unlike the emotional swings of depression or bipolar disorder), usually lasting just a few minutes or hours.

Jack is...really unstable and I don’t think anyone will disagree.  

ECHO logs in BL2 depict Jack going from manic to a fit of rage both with Angel and Mr. Tassiter. As well as Mr. Moorin who he strangles for mentioning his wife. 

Or when he gets really excited...

6) Chronic feelings of emptiness. People with BPD often talk about feeling empty, as if there’s a hole or a void inside them. At the extreme, you may feel as if you’re “nothing” or “nobody.” This feeling is uncomfortable, so you may try to fill the hole with things like drugs, food, or sex. But nothing feels truly satisfying.

After becoming CEO he became dictator of Pandora, then decided...hey why not conquer more planets? Why not basically become a god? That toppled on top of Jack’s drug use and sex life. He bought a diamond horse and named it Butt-stallion...

He also says that when he takes Rhys’ body he’s still gonna use it to eat food and bang a bunch of people. 

(A side note, Dameon Clarke while answering questions as Handsome Jack said that there’s a lot of smiling going on but he’s actually dead inside. I just wanted to add it here as a point of interest.)

Jack also tolerated Mr. Tassiter’s insults until Tassiter told Jack that he’s a pathetic nobody under his mask. This leads to Jack strangling him and keeping his goatee as a reminder of what happens to people when they’re a dick to Jack. 

7)Explosive anger. If you have BPD, you may struggle with intense anger and a short temper. You may also have trouble controlling yourself once the fuse is lit—yelling, throwing things, or becoming completely consumed by rage. It’s important to note that this anger isn’t always directed outwards. You may spend a lot of time being angry at yourself.

I don’t feel I need to provide examples for this one. We’ve all seen Jack’s rage. He uh....really goes off and it is not easy to stop him. 

Now that we got Jack’s symptoms out of the way let’s move on to causes. 

Most mental health professionals believe that borderline personality disorder (BPD) is caused by a combination of inherited or internal biological factors and external environmental factors, such as traumatic experiences in childhood.

...

Hereditary predisposition. You may be at a higher risk if a close relative — your mother, father, brother or sister — has the same or a similar disorder.

Stressful childhood. Many people with the disorder report being sexually or physically abused or neglected during childhood. Some people have lost or were separated from a parent or close caregiver when they were young or had parents or caregivers with substance misuse or other mental health issues. Others have been exposed to hostile conflict and unstable family relationships.

Let’s start with Jack’s genetics. If you saw my last post about Jack, it was wondering if Jack’s grandmother was a bandit and/or psycho due to her buzz axe. It is very possible that Jack’s grandmother and mother also suffer with some mental illness. 

Onto the stressful childhood. Grandma’s buzz axe which was a disciplinary weapon she used on Jack, and in The Pre-Sequel, Jack is asked to describe his childhood which he says his mother abandoned him on his abusive grandmother who would smack him around. He also had a pet cat that his grandma drowned because he didn’t make his bed. He cites this as “the usual stuff” 

Jack has both genetics and environmental factors that can lead to someone having mental disorders. 

Jack’s drug use and drinking would aid in making his BPD symptoms much worse as well.

So...yeah, there’s my Jack analysis.

[ventrue-rosary]

Kingdom of Decay - Chapter 1

I renamed and rehashed Through the Dark Veil. Reblogs, comments and coffees more than welcome

Daughter of both destiny and disgrace, Amaranthe has had the weight of an entire kingdom upon her shoulder all her young life. But when she finds herself in the damned and decaying lands of Barovia, she faces her greatest challenge yet...

Chapter 1: Of Monsters and Men

Small droplets of blood slide off the low-hanging leaves, falling into the soil with a subdued, wet thud, releasing the metallic stench of blood. Theodrin stalks through the underbrush, chasing the trail of red that eventually leads him to his quarry: a creature that is a crossbred abomination of man and beast, bipedal in structure with overtly long limbs coated in coarse, thick fur. Triangular ears sit atop its head, which in place of a mouth holds a canine-like snout uttering bestial growls as  Theodrin corners it. The claw-tipped hand clutching its wound tightens its grip around it as it hunches defensively over itself.

‘What will it be? Will you die with your last shreds of dignity, or as wretched at the beast you have become?’

Its jaws open to unleash a scream that spooks flocks of birds into flight. Theodrin grins as he unsheathes his blade with a flourish, cutting it across his wrist to wreathe the metal in shards of ice.

‘Like a beast it is, then.’

The doors to the courtroom swing open. Theodrin walks in with a swagger to his step, caked in a fine layer of sweat and dirt from his hunt, holding in his hands the severed head of his kill. Courtiers gasp and eagerly part to let him pass. Narcissa rises from her perch atop the throne fixing him with a look of contempt. Theodrin feels his teeth grind together as he bows his head to his younger sister and her bastard daughter.

‘Narcissa…’

‘You Grace.’ Alestir corrects.

His teeth grind together even harder. To think a human nobody would order him how to address his own family. Nevertheless, he maintains his calm facade as he straightens to look his sister, nay, the Queen, in the eye as he throws the beasts head at her feet. Shocked gasps and murmurs ripple through the crowd. The bastard turns her head with a shudder.

Narcissa’s lips curl in disgust. ‘What manner of creature is this?’

‘A lycan, or werewolf to the laymen. A creature that can masquerade as man to hide its monstrous form, in which it has the strength to rend limbs from their sockets and talons capable of tearing through skin, flesh and bone. It is said only a bit is needed to transfer the disease. Likely there are more hiding in the forests, or even in the towns, right under our very noses.’

People in the crowd cry aloud in horror. Women fan their faces to fend off fainting.

‘And you think it is suitable to bring its severed head into my court, in front of my people–my daughter!’ Narissa’s trembling hands gesture to the young girl, her head still tilted away from the scene.

‘She has to grow a spine at some point, my dear sister. One day she will be the one taking up the sword to protect these lands.’

‘No, the sons fight. The daughters rule.’    

Theodrin spreads his arms and glances about the room. ‘Forgive me your Grace, but where is your son?’

‘Out! All of you out!’

The courtiers quickly scramble to hasten out of the room, carrying their mortified whispers with them as they go.

‘You as well, Amaranthe, Alestir.’

With far much more reluctance, the little Princess stands up from her throne. She pauses as she reaches Theodrin to glower up at him. He always hated her appearance–the dark hair and purple eyes of her human father butchering the sharp angular Darcelle features. She wasn’t right, her ears too round for elven society yet too pointy to pass as human. When Theodrin looks at her, all he sees is a crossbreed, a mongrel. An abomination.

Alestir places a hand on her shoulder and steers her out, hardly sparing his brother-in-law a glance as he passes. Theodrin for one is glad to see the back of them. He just thinks it a shame their departure is not permanent.

He turns his face towards his sister only for it to be snapped back again to the side when she delivers a hard slap to his cheek. A thousand pins tingle in his skin under the force of the blow. Narcissa’s entire frame trembles, her face beet red. The hand she used to slap him now points at his face with accusation.

‘You will never storm into my court again, make a spectacle and then humiliate me in front of my people, nor presume to tell me how to raise my daughter! Do you understand? I am not just your sister, I am also your Queen! Remember your place.’

‘And remember who hunts down those monsters from the tales your people use to put their children to bed, who you fear lurk in the shadows of these ivory towers you stand in, so haughty, so righteous, so entitled. I might err one day, my sword slip from my grasp, and one such creature may find its way into your hallowed halls.’

Narcissa steps toe to toe with him. Equal in height, her glare meets his, her emerald eyes practically wreathed in the flames of her ire.

‘Is that a threat, Theodrin?’

‘Of course not, sister. That would be treason. I would never even dream of such a thing.’

‘Get. Out.’

He stiffly bows before he takes his leave. Theodrin knows he has already crossed one too many a line this day. As much as he enjoyed irritating his sister, he very much liked the position his head currently held atop his shoulders.

As he exits the palace, he sees his niece sat by the fountain, a book between her hands. He strides over and plucks the red leather-bound tome from her grip. She makes a grab for it but Theodrin stands a foot taller than her, and he holds it out of her reach as he angles to cover to read its title written in obnoxious golden cursive.

‘ “Of Men and Monsters”?’ Intrigued, he flicks through the pages and sees it is purely fantastical drivel. Romanticised tales of armoured knights rescuing fair maidens from fearsome dragons. He scoffs and flings the book over her shoulder, into the fountain water. ‘Here I thought you were making a headstart in studying for your inevitable induction into our order. And yet you disappoint me again. It’s all you live to do, isn’t it?’

Amaranthe isn’t paying him any heed. Her back is turned to him as she drags the ruined dregs of her book from the water.

‘Are you listening to me, bastard?’ he snarls, grabbing her shoulder.

With a cry, she pivots and slams the wet book square into his face with far more strength than he could have anticipated. He feels his nose crumple with a wet crunch, chased by the overwhelming dull ache that slowly consumes his face like a fire sweeping across a dehydrated forest. It leaves him stunned for a few seconds as the pain blackens out his vision. He resurfaces from the abyss with a deep breath, hoping the Gods lend him the will he needs to stay his hand that is already inching towards the pommel of his blade.  

‘That’s now two Darcelle women that have hit me today. Two too many, I must say.’ He swipes at the blood dribbling from his ruptured nostrils. He admits it was a good hit, and a more gutsy move than he expected from her, but the problem still remained a bastard raised a hand at someone of legitimate lineage, and to him of all people. The one people should be bowing and grovelling to as thanks for lengthening their miserable little lives.

Theodrin removes his hand from his blade, raises it over his shoulder.

‘Here, bastard, treat this as your first lesson from the Blood Hunters. Never raise your hand to your betters!

Another hand snags his wrist as he strikes down. Looking over his shoulder, he is greeted by the familiar, unwelcome visage of Addenus Killglave, a human man with a full head of long red hair and a well-kempt beard. He is young, probably only seen five more winters than Alestir, but well-respected in their order, and quickly climbing the ranks, which only serves to add more insult to this injury.

‘If that is an ideal you live by, then pray tell me why you are raising your hand to Princess Amaranthe?’

Theodrin wrenches his arm free, and straightens out his coat. ‘What?’

‘You said never raise your hands to your betters but I believe that’s precisely what you just did.’

Theodrin sputters, almost choking on his words. ‘She…she’s a bastard!’

‘Aye, but a royal one at that. Not to mention that the wee girl has hardly seen ten winters. Our order doesn’t condone beating children.’

Theodrin feels the unwelcome bite of anger and shame. Addenus’s stiflingly calm nature only serves to exacerbate his foul mood as the order elder regards him coolly, waiting for the next move. A fast friend to Alestir, Theodrin knows Addenus would rebut any further words–he is in league with the lot of them.

‘Get back to the order, Theo. We’ll speak more of this when I return.’

‘Glady,’ Theodrin hisses as he turns on his heel and marches out through the open portcullis.

[sparrowjousting]

When Words Fail: a Destiny story

Hey guys! I just wanted to let everyone know that I am in the process of writing my own Destiny 2 fanfiction, and the first two chapters of that are linked below. If you’re already ahead of the game, then I went ahead and posted the entirety of chapter three underneath the links. Please let me know what you think! I am very excited about my ideas for this story and where it can go, but I would like some constructive criticism. Thanks everyone!

~ sparrowjousting / thatmutantkid

Chapter 1: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17627513/chapters/41561702

Chapter 2: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17627513/chapters/41561774

                                   Chapter Three: Saturday Mourning

An awkward silence filled the air as the two stood there and stared at each other. Was it real? Was the Marcus Ren, a City celebrity and hero, actually standing at her doorstep asking to come inside?

She thought he hated her.

“I...s-sure.”

She opened the door wider so he could enter. When he did, he looked around and let out an impressed whistle. Her apartment was small, but she made sure to keep it clean and organized in case any unexpected guests like Ren showed up.

“Nice place you have here. Definitely better than those closets they called dorms during our Academy days, huh?”

Andie nodded her head. His back was to her, so he didn’t see it. She was still in shock that she didn’t think about giving a verbal response.

“Why are you here? Don’t you have another race to prepare for?” She said bitterly. It wasn’t intentional, but the last thing she needed was media attention on her as Ren’s secret...friend.

“Damn McGrath, no need to be so nasty.” Marcus started. “I just wanted to see how you were doing. It's almost been five months since Cayde-”

“Since Cayde died? Yeah, I know. Thanks for the reminder.” She hissed. He was really beginning to overstay his welcome.

Marcus sighed and ran a hand through his messy blonde hair. One thing she never understood was how he kept it looking so nice even after spending hours under a helmet during a race or on patrols.

“Look...I know you haven’t always been my biggest fan. I was an asshole to you at the Academy and wouldn’t admit when someone did better than me. Hell, I still don’t like admitting defeat to Enoch but lucky me gets that thrown in my face every week after races.”

Andie just sighed and rolled her eyes. If he was trying to make some kind of point, he was miserably failing. Even if it started off about her, it somehow always came back to him.

“Is there a point Ren? If I wanted to relive your very embarrassing loss to your own teammate, I can assure you that I can find plenty of videos online of him kicking your ass.”

An annoyed huff came off his lips as he made eye contact with her. He had an even more annoyed look on his face. She just smirked.

“Look McGrath, if you’re just going to insult me, then fine. I get the message and I’ll leave. I just came here to check on you because I was wor-”

There was a sudden pause in his sentence. A tomato red blush covered his entire face and he quickly looked away. After that, he grabbed his helmet and made a fast getaway to the door.

“Hey, where are you going? Get back here Ren!” Andie yelled then ran after him. When she made it to the door, he was already gone. A sigh escaped her lips and she shut the door. What had gotten into him?

Marcus was relieved to finally be home.

When he entered his apartment, he locked the door behind him and threw himself on the couch. It had been a long day not just for him, but for his eccentric Ghost, Didi. After he made himself comfortable, she appeared and bumped his forehead quite aggressively.

“Ow! What was that for?” He groaned and rubbed his now reddened forehead. Sometimes he wished she would just stay hidden in his gear. Especially when she was angry like this.

“Why did you run off like that?” Didi asked, expanding and retracting her shell as a way to show her annoyance with her Guardian.

“What? You mean at McGrath’s? Didn’t you hear how she was insulting me? I wasn’t about to take anymore of that abuse. I get enough of that from the media.” He said and groaned from the pain in his head. It was starting to subside now.

“That’s not the point. You were about to tell her you were worried about her, weren’t you? I don’t understand why you don’t want to let her know how much you care about her-”

“That’s enough Didi! Stay out of this, would you?!”

Another moment of awkward silence filled the air between the two of them. Didi stared at her Guardian for a moment before bobbing up and down as if she were sighing.

“It’s okay to be worried about her, you know. She just lost Cayde. He was basically a father to her and her brother their entire Guardian lives. Nobody expects her to be as okay as she pretends to be. Her brother sure isn't hiding it.”

It was true. Alexander McGrath was an emotional mess. Both him and his sister had witnessed their Vanguard leader and father figure die right in front of them that fateful night in the Prison of Elders. All while the former Awoken Prince Uldren Sov smirked and waved Cayde’s prized hand cannon, the Ace of Spades, around in his hands. Alexander was never the same after that night. Andie wasn’t either, but she hid her grief much better than her brother had. She still did.

The Tower and its Guardians held a memorial a few weeks after it had happened, and later another memorial for just the Hunters to attend to mourn their fallen Vanguard. Since they were the ones who were closest to him, Andie and her brother stood front and center next to Cayde’s casket as one Hunter after another came up to each of them and gave their condolences. There were lots of tears and crying, as well as silence in various parts of the room.

The day after the Hunter only memorial, it was decided that Cayde would be buried behind an old cabin outside of the Farm on Earth. It was one of his favorite places to go after Ghaul had taken control during the Red War, and it had a beautiful view of the night sky. Andie remembered the nights where both of them would go and sit on the docks, and stare at the night sky.

The lake behind the cabin would shine in the moonlight, and they would have heart-to-heart talks and deep conversations about life and mortality since they had lost their Light. There was also another gravestone of a woman - someone else who had meant the world to Cayde in a previous life.

Not only that, but the burial spot was nowhere near a war zone. No Fallen or Cabal enemies to come and ruin his gravesite. A place of peace where those close to him could come and remember their short time together.

A place where his daughter and son could come and remember both of their parents.

Marcus just hoped that one day maybe Andie would let him in. Because the Traveller knew that she needed someone to lean and depend on now. 

They all did.

[foozkids]

How To Pick The Perfect Baby Name

Honor Your Culture

Choosing a name out of your cultural history is a beautiful manner to honor your Fooz Kids history. Spanish stunners encompass Marisol and Javier, French beauties you might like are Elodie and Laurent, and early African-American names that could strike a chord include Cato and Temperance. An on-line search for names out of your way of life is bound to turn up at the least one that you love.

Look Up Meanings

This step is imperative so that you don’t become choosing a name with a that means that horrifies you. You may love the sound of Giselle, for instance, however did you know it method “hostage”? Or that Cecilia approach “blind” and Cameron method “crooked nostril”? Yikes. You may also decide which you love the moniker sufficient to miss the that means, but be prepared to laugh it off whilst a person unavoidably asks you the importance of your toddler’s call. You should prepare a one-liner inclusive of, “It method ‘blind’, however that felt right due to the fact my grandma became blind so we selected it to honor her.” Deliver it with a straight face and watch humans’s jaws drop (in case you dare).

Contemplate All Possible Nicknames

One mom I spoke to instructed me that she named her daughter Regina – reported “Re-JEE-na” – because she loved the regal sound of it. Sadly, Regina’s classmates have been brief to nickname her “Regina Vagina” and “Ra-jay-jay Va-jay-jay.” Sigh… why can kids be so merciless?! It’s a terrific concept to brainstorm viable nicknames along with your accomplice or some other trusted family member or buddy to make certain there isn’t a few stunning possibility you’re overlooking.

 Consider The Importance Of The Middle Name

 You can also pick your child’s center call based entirely at the fact that it fits well with their first and closing names, however you can additionally use it to honor a member of the family which includes a grandparent or a liked aunt. It’s additionally a pleasing area to “conceal” a circle of relatives lifestyle. A friend of mine married a man referred to as Richard and all of the guys in his family for some thing like 12 generations have been named… you guessed it… Richard.  My friend didn’t need to insult anybody in the circle of relatives, however she did NOT need to name her son Richard XIII. Don’t question me how she did it, however she by some means convinced the circle of relatives that the lifestyle had long gone on long sufficient and that her son must be referred to as Damian Richard. Phew!

 Don’t Forget About The Initials

 This might sound petty, but your child’s initials are another critical attention. Alyssa Sydney Scott (A.S.S.), for example, is NOT an excellent concept. Nor is Fiona Mary Lawrence (F.M.L.) One ashamed mama admitted to me that she found out too late that her daughter’s initials – F.C.K. – could probably be construed as a horrific phrase. She’s ready with bated breath till her daughter starts offevolved school and hoping nobody notices! Write down the initials of all of the call mixtures you’re thinking about just to make certain.

 Say It Out Loud

 Do the first, center and final names have a rhythmic glide when you say them out loud? Hunter David Jackson sounds nice, however Jackson Grayson McMasterson…now not so much. While you’re at it, do a Google seek to make certain there aren’t any sordid characters that carry the equal name as your unborn child. The remaining element you want is for people to say, “Wasn’t there an grownup movie celebrity known as that?!”

 Don’t Stress Too Much

 If you do make a mistake and remorse the call you selected, don’t panic – you've got alternatives. You should use a nickname in your infant forevermore and forget that their actual call exists – as an instance, your smart invention ‘Nicoxavieriah’ should surely emerge as ‘Nick’. Or you can use their middle call as their first call – subsequently the importance of selecting the center name accurately. And if worse comes to worst, you could always change your child’s call legally. It calls for lots of office work and a few charges, however it’s not not possible.

[winchestersgirl-67]

Waited So Long pt. 3

Dean x daughter!reader

Everything is going to change for the reader as she watches her mom fade away

1900 words

previous parts  

CHARACTER DEATH 

a/n - if you want to be tagged please send me a message or an ask. If you comment it might get lost or missed. Thank You. 

8 days.

That’s how long your mom lived after Sam and Dean showed up. So much could’ve happened in those 8 days, but so little actually did.

Your mom slept - a lot. She slept all night and almost all day. When she wasn’t sleeping she was in horrible pain so the doctors and nurses gave her medication that made her...sleep.

Dean stayed in the motel down the road, he came right when visiting hours started every morning and he always had two cups of coffee. One for you, one for him. Sometimes he stayed all day, you talked when your mom was sleeping and you were feeling up to it. He would leave early if you weren’t  in the mood for polite conversation, or any conversation for that matter.

Sam left on the third day, he said he found a hunt somewhere upstate and he was gonna go take care of it. Dean told him he shouldn’t go alone, but Sam assured him that he could handle it on his own.

You held on. It was hard, your mom was fading away right in front of you and there was no way anyone could help her. Your father, who you’d dreamed of for your whole life brought you coffee and sat with you everyday, but you could barely speak to him. You were too sad.

The last day was the hardest, everyone knew it was the last day. Including your mom. The nurses and doctors were coming around twice as often as they normally would to make sure everyone was comfortable.

She signed a do not resuscitate form a few days before when you were with Dean, that meant if your mom's heart stopped she didn’t want the doctors to try and save her.

You sat by her bed all day, refusing to move as you watched your mom slip in and out of consciousness. Dean had brought you coffee, water and food all day as he kept checking up on you.  You were really grateful that he was there to help you, over the week the two of you started to bound a little but today you couldn’t think about him, today you just needed to think about your mom.

The few moments she was alert during the day she couldn’t speak much. She managed to squeeze out an ‘I love you’ a few times, when Dean was in the room at one point she made him promise to look after you.  When she said that you had to leave the room, you promised yourself that you weren’t going to cry in front of your mom today but when she said that the tears filled your eyes. With you in the hall, Dean took your mother's hand in his a told her that keeping you safe and happy was going to be his top priority for the rest of his life.  

As the day went on you mostly just sat and stared, trying to keep the tears in, sometimes they would fall and you would step out, no one bothered you.

At 8:52 PM your moms breathing started to wheeze, a nurse came in a bumped up her O2 and pain meds. You could tell from the look on her face, it was time.

At 8:56 the heart monitor started to go off, a doctor turn the sound down and stood in the doorway watching the line get closer to flattening. As you stared at your moms face and really let the tears fall.

“Please don’t go mom.” “Please don’t die.” “I need you.”

It was too late. By 8:58 the line was flat and you heard someone call out the words ‘time of death’, after that it was a blur.

People came rushing in and out unplugging wires and disconnecting tubes. The top half of your body fell over onto your moms bed. Her body was still so warm, but she wasn’t breathing. Your not sure how long you laid there sobbing before you felt someone place a warm hand on your shoulder.

“Dean?” you choked out at you turned your head to look at you father.

“Yeah, y/n, I’m right here.” Dean moved his hand like he was going to rub your back, but before he could you were curled up in his lap sobbing.

As Dean tried to comfort you the doctors pulled the bed sheet over your mom's head and moved to take the bed out of the room. Hearing the bed move set you off, but Dean held on to you tightly assuring you that it was okay.

“Y/n they have to take her away, everything will be fine. I’m right here y/n I’m not going anywhere.”

You sat in Dean’s lap and sobbed for what was probably a very long time. You lost track, time didn’t seem to matter anymore, nothing seemed to matter at the moment.

You didn’t think you would want to be with Dean after, since he showed up you’d been telling yourself that when the day came you weren’t going to be around him, but now it was real. You hurt so much, your heart and your brain and even your eyes hurt from crying.  There was a pit in your stomach that felt like a two ton bag of rocks, your mind was racing to store every memory you had with your mom somewhere that you could recall them years in the future.

Now you couldn’t imagine Dean not being here, you couldn’t bare the thought of being alone. As you sat and breathed in his oddly, comforting scent you were so thankful that you decided to call.

“Dean..”  It was hard for you to speak, but you had something to say.

Dean adjusted so that he was still holding you, but now he could see your face, he nodded to assure you he was listening without interrupting your train of thoughts.

“Please don’t leave me. I don’t want to be alone. PLease…” you managed to squeak out a few words through your stuttered breath.

“I’m not going anywhere, y/n. I’m your dad, were a family now and I don’t leave my family behind. I promise, as long as I’m around I’m going to take care of you.” Dean was so confident that he was going to be there forever, as he spoke you couldn't help but think that one day he wasn’t going to be around anymore, but you couldn’t express that now.

You just nodded your head and fell back into Dean’s chest, your sobs were softening and slowing down, but tears were still dripping down your face as you realised this was your family now.

When the tears had finally stopped Dean suggested it was probably a good idea to leave the hospital, so he helped you gather your things and say a final good-bye to the nurse before he took you to the motel across the street.

“Wow, you sure do live in luxury.” You joked at the sight of the rundown room. “You always stay in dumps like this?”  you added.

“Unless someone else is paying, crappy motels are our home away from home. I spent my whole damn childhood moving from one of theses ‘dumps’ to the next, I actually find them a little comforting now. Just not nearly as comforting as the memory foam mattress on my bed at the bunker.” Dean commented back, you started to think about him growing up. You knew about the monsters and the hunting, but you never pictured your dad as a little kid doing what he does now. This whole thing was scary to you, and in two years you would be a legal adult, you couldn’t even imagine knowing about this stuff as a little kid.

“Thank you.” you mumbled partially to yourself.

“For what kid, bring you to this dump?” Dean responded, confused.

“No, for not bringing me here sooner. I was so man at you, or the idea of you my whole life, but I was so much better off not growing up like you did...sorry, I didn’t mean that you- I just think- nevermind…” You stuttered off feeling embarrassed like you had somehow insulted him.

“y/n, you don’t have to be sorry. My childhood was rough, I knew you’d probably hate me for not being around growing up, but all I ever hoped for was that one day you might understand why. I’m really glad you do.” Dean smiled, for as sad as today was for everyone he was so excited to finally have you in his life.

As the night went on you and Dean just talked, exchanging stories and getting to know each other. You talked about your mom, dean talked about his dad, before you knew it the whole night had gone by and it was almost 1am when dean got a call from Sam.

You tried not to listen to the conversation they were having as you made your way around the room trying to look busy until Dean hung up. You started to notice that the two of them had some sort of secret language that only they understood, and you hoped to uncode some day.

“That was Sam, he said the hunt went well and he’s on his way back. He’ll be back around 11 tomorrow, then we can head back to Kansas, unless there’s people here you need to see before we go….” In the madness of the last week Dean hadn’t even thought about the life you had outside of your mom and that hospital.

“No, i’m fine. We can leave when Sam gets back, there’s no one for me to see here.” You sighed, but it was true. Friends and school all started to fall apart for you once your mom got sick. Having a sick parent in the hospital was like a full time job.

Dean didn’t want to push you, it was an emotional day, but he was a full time parent now and he could tell something was wrong.

“y/n, what’s wrong?” Dean bravely asked, hoping not to upset you more.

“It’s nothing, you just lose a lot of friends when you move into a hospital full time. Not that I really had that many to begin with. There’s no one in this dumb little town that I need to say goodbye to.” You tried to nod it off like this was no big deal, honestly it wasn’t. You never had a lot of friends you didn’t really mind, or at least that’s what you always told yourself. Dean saw right through your act.

“I’m sorry kid, I’d love to tell you that things will be better in Kansas, but I don’t know if that’s true. Even if they aren’t better you’ll have me and Sam and a crap load of hunters that have your back. You’re a Winchester now, nobody messes with a Winchester.” Dean grabbed your shoulder when he was done to emphasize that he had you, feeling him touch you was comforting in a way you’d never experienced before.

“Umm, Dean…” your voice wandered as you geared up for your question.

“What’s up, y/n?” Dean responded slightly worried that something was wrong.

“Do you mind, if I- would it be okay with you if I- If I called you dad?” you forced the words out shyly, then looked down to hind your face.

You couldn’t see with your face to the ground, but Dean’s eyes lit up as a smile stretched across his face. He was so happy he could barely respond.

“Y/n, I would love it if you called me dad.”

“Thanks…..dad…” You looked up and saw that both of you were wearing matching smiles.

Tags - 

SPN 

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Waited so long 

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[dfroza]

Love.

it certainly isn’t just about sexuality since Love is actually God our Creator who formed the human body, in male & female.

we won’t even be sexual beings in Heaven since it is for the physical body on earth. but sex on earth is certainly reserved for the purity of the “marriage bed”

Today’s reading of the Scriptures from the New Testament is the 13th and closing chapter of the book of Hebrews:

Let love continue among you. Don’t forget to extend your hospitality to all—even to strangers—for as you know, some have unknowingly shown kindness to heavenly messengers in this way. Remember those imprisoned for their beliefs as if you were their cellmate; and care for any who suffer harsh treatment, as you are all one body.

Hold marriage in high esteem, all of you, and keep the marriage bed pure because God will judge those who commit sexual sins.

Keep your lives free from the love of money, and be content with what you have because He has said, “I will never leave you; I will always be by your side.” Because of this promise, we may boldly say,

The Lord is my help—

I won’t be afraid of anything.

How can anyone harm me?

Listen to your leaders, who have spoken God’s word to you. Notice the fruits of their lives and mirror their faith.

Jesus the Anointed One is always the same: yesterday, today, and forever. Do not be carried away by diverse and strange ways of believing or worshiping. It is good for the heart to be strengthened by grace, not by regulations about what you can eat (which do no good even for those who observe them). We approach an altar from which those who stand before the altar in the tent have no right to eat. In the past, the bodies of those animals whose blood was carried into the sanctuary by the high priest to take away sin were all burned outside the camp. (In the same way, Jesus suffered and bled outside the city walls of Jerusalem to sanctify the people.)

Let’s then go out to Him and resolve to bear the insult and abuse that He endured. For as long as we are here, we do not live in any permanent city, but are looking for the city that is to come.

Through Jesus, then, let us keep offering to God our own sacrifice, the praise of lips that confess His name without ceasing. Let’s not neglect what is good and share what we have, for these sacrifices also please God.

Listen to your leaders and submit to their authority over the community, for they are on constant watch to protect your souls and someday they must give account. Give them reason to be joyful and not to regret their duty, for that will be of no good to you.

Pray for us, for we have no doubt that our consciences are clean and that we seek to live honestly in all things. But please pray for me that I may be restored to you even more quickly.

Now may the God of peace, who brought the great Shepherd of the sheep, our Lord Jesus, back from the dead through the blood of the new everlasting covenant, perfect you in every good work as you work God’s will. May God do in you only those things that are pleasing in His sight through Jesus the Anointed, our Liberating King, to whom we give glory always and forever. Amen.

Please, brothers and sisters, pay attention to this word of exhortation, for I have written only a few words to you.

I want to tell you that our brother Timothy has been set free; and if he arrives soon, he will come with me when I see you next.

Give my greetings to your leaders and to all of God’s people. Those of Italy greet you.

May grace always be with you.

The Book of Hebrews, Chapter 13 (The Voice)

Today’s paired chapter of the Testaments is the 1st chapter of the book of Lamentations that is exactly that in pouring out words of lament:

Aaghh! Lonely is this city that once bustled with life;

Cheer is empty; like a widow, she is abandoned

and oh, so lonely.

She who was a princess, great among the nations,

has lost everything and been forced to serve as a slave.

Bawling, she weeps without constraint every night,

cries herself to sleep, bitter tears streaming down her cheeks.

Her former friends ignore her;

there is no one there to share her sorrow;

Companions contend and have betrayed her;

friends have been unfaithful and turned against her as enemies.

Carried off to a foreign place, Judah is exiled in misery

and debased by affliction and hard labor;

She cannot find rest living among the pagan nations.

She tried to run and hide, but in her distress pursuers have overcome her.

Despair permeates the very dust of Zion’s roads.

Nobody walks them in anticipation of celebration and worship.

No one enters the city’s desolate gates bringing offerings or sacrifices to God.

The religious leaders are heavyhearted,

And the virgin women despair.

It’s so bitter for dear Zion!

Enemies of Jerusalem have gained the upper hand.

Her foes prosper against her.

The Eternal One has caused her sorrow because of her rebellions,

for she acted against Him, willfully, again and again.

Even her little ones are taken away at the whim of her foes.

Faded beauty, this daughter Zion.

Her princely young men, like stags,

They have no place to graze, no strength to fight;

they fled to the woods,

Pursued mercilessly by hunters.

Gone are the days that she remembers, happy and precious;

Jerusalem wanders aimlessly and remembers what precious things she has lost—

Things from the old days of David, Solomon, and Josiah.

But now her people have fallen to her enemies,

And in this defeat by her enemies, no one ran to her aid,

and her enemies now snicker and gloat at her downfall.

Hideous must be Jerusalem’s crimes

that the city itself is now morally and ritually impure.

Those who once admired her now hate her.

They strip her naked and laugh.

All she can do is groan

and shrink back, ashamed.

Impurity clung to her inside the cover of her clothes.

She refused to consider anything but the present,

Never expecting her impurity would be revealed.

Nobody came forward with comfort—no one.

Lady Jerusalem: See, Eternal One, how badly I suffer

and how my enemies swell with pride.

Jabbing and fondling,

mauling all her treasures, the enemy takes stock.

Foreign nations enter even her holy place,

claiming what You decided was off-limits

And forbidden to them—Your temple.

Kept in hunger,

her people are desperate for food.

Once prosperous, they trade her treasures

for nourishment of any kind.

Lady Jerusalem: Look, Eternal One—

really see how hated I’ve become.

Look around, you who pass by and go about your business.

Is there any sorrow as great as mine?

Any pain as great as that which has been forced on me?

No. Because my pain comes from the Eternal.

It is His judgment, rendered on the day of His intense anger.

My bones burn with the wrath of God,

the fire sent from on high.

He laid a trap, then left me,

turned me back to the destruction,

With the shakes, constantly sick and faint.

Now the burden of all my wrongs is a yoke.

God has laid them upon my shoulders,

Bound them around my neck.

He has made sure I’m too weak to support them.

The Lord gave me into the hand of an enemy.

I could not resist.

Overwhelmed by none other than God,

the Lord has determined that all my warriors are worthless.

He has summoned a meeting of those who are against me

to crush the young men who would protect me,

And He has stomped lovely Judah, virgin daughter,

like grapes in a winepress.

Pity, my eyes won’t stop their crying; I can’t stop.

There is no one nearby to comfort me or revive my spirit,

No one to pull me up.

My children know it—they’re left empty,

The enemy has won.

Quietly, Zion spreads out her hands, pleading for comfort.

But no one comes. The Lord forbids it.

God has commanded Jacob’s enemies

to surround her.

Jerusalem has become their foe;

she is an impurity among them.

Lady Jerusalem: Right and true is the Eternal One.

I am the one in the wrong: I have rebelled against His law.

Listen all of you peoples.

See how much I have suffered;

My handsome men and my gentle women, unmarried and unprotected,

have marched away into captivity.

Summoning my lovers brings nothing—

nothing but pain in their betrayal.

The old guard, religious and political leaders,

have died starving here in the city;

Their search for sustenance failed.

Take account, Eternal One, of me; how miserable I am.

My belly growls and turns;

My heart is wrung out like a rag; my faults and failings are to blame

because I have been rebellious.

Death is everywhere in the homes;

the sword makes women childless in the streets.

Uncaring, with no compassion from others,

they know how badly I suffer.

O how alone I am.

My enemies gloat, and You have brought about my misery,

So happy to know I’m in pain.

But You, O God, will make them as bad off as I.

Vindicate me and judge their evil actions

and make them suffer,

As You’ve made me suffer

for all my wrongdoings.

I’m a wreck, and I groan with a faint heart.

The Book of Lamentations, Chapter 1 (The Voice)

A link to my personal reading of the Scriptures for Tuesday, October 5 of 2021 with a paired chapter from each Testament of the Bible along with Today’s Proverbs and Psalms

A post by John Parsons that takes a look at “In the beginning…”

10.04.21 (Tishri 28, 5782) "In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth, and the earth was "tohu va'vohu" - without form and empty, and darkness was over the face of the deep..." (Gen. 1:1-2). The sages comment that knowing that God created the heavens and the earth makes us realize that by themselves earthly things are without purpose and substance, since life in the natural world is havel havalim (הֲבֵל הֲבָלִים), "vanity of vanities," apart from the design (form) and the substance of God. Faith in the upper "world" of God, that is, the heavenly realm, therefore evokes a sense of discontent and longing within the soul, and the temporal world and its pleasures will seem distracting and empty. This lack of form and emptiness was part of the original design of creation, however, since it was after God had created the universe that "he saw everything that he had made, and behold, it was very good" (Gen. 1:31).

Just as we cannot see light but by means of it we see other things, so with Yeshua, the Light of Life, the Form and Substance of God... By His illumination we are able to see the spiritual reality of God's Presence and invincible love... Yeshua is "the radiance of the glory of God and the exact imprint of his nature, and he upholds the universe by the word of his power" (Heb. 1:3). He is the Fountain of Life: by his light we see light (Psalm 36:9). Amen, God is light, and in Him is no darkness at all (1 John 1:5).

and another:

10.04.21 (Tishri 28, 5782) Our restoration begins with God's love and passion. God's first question to Adam after he broke covenant was: "Where (אַיֶּכָּה) are you?" - the voice of a loving Father in search of his son (Gen. 3:9). Of course God knew exactly how his son was attempting to hide, though He almost acted as if He was unwilling to believe that he would betray his love by disobeying His commandment. Therefore God's poignant question was directed to Adam's heart: "Oh my son, how did you get to this place?" God was giving Adam an opportunity to turn back to Him, to confess the sin, to undergo teshuvah, to become reconciled... This is the necessary prelude to any honest relationship with God.

Recall that the original promise of the coming Savior was given within the context of the curse and judgment upon Satan: "I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your seed and her seed; he shall crush your head, and you shall crush his heel" (Gen. 3:15). That God's promise was first directed to Satan is surely by design, since he "left his first estate" by becoming the "monster in the garden" and was therefore primarily responsible for the transgression of Adam and Eve in the first place (Ezek. 28:13-15,19). The promise delivered to Satan was therefore one of coming retribution and divine judgment: Evil would not have the last word in the matter of mankind, and therefore Satan's schemes would be avenged by God in the fullness of time (Gal. 4:4-5). Notice, however, that Adam and Eve were not yet judged for their sin when the LORD God gave the promise of the coming of the Redeemer. Before a word of judgment was directed toward them, God's love and light was already revealed. Indeed, immediately after their judgment was pronounced, "the LORD God made tunics of skin for Adam and his wife and clothed them" (Gen. 3:21) - a clear picture of being compassionately "robed in righteousness" imparted by an innocent sacrifice. The very first sacrifice recorded in the Torah - performed by God Himself - prefigured the coming redemption by the "seed of the woman" who would die as a substitutionary sacrifice for their sins, and therefore Yeshua is rightly called "the Lamb slain from the foundation (or beginning) of the world" (Rev. 13:8). This further explains why Eve's son (Abel) offered a blood sacrifice that was accepted by the LORD, whereas Cain's offering the "fruit of the earth" was rejected.

The very first prophecy of Torah therefore describes - in the most succinct form - the coming of the Savior and the great conflict of the ages. First, God declares that He would put enmity (אֵיבָה) between Satan and the woman. This enmity, or "hostile hatred," was based on the memory of Eve's misguided trust she evidenced in the garden. When Eve first sympathetically listened to the lies of the nachash (serpent), she immediately began her descent into exile and became a temptress herself. Her first step toward sin was a gullibility or openness that ultimately resulted in a lack of trust of God (which is part of the reason why we must be saved by trusting, as a "like-for-like" reversal of the original sin). At the very dawn of human history, then, we see that "truth" (אֱמֶת) apart from God (א) leads to death (מֵת). Eve was deceived because of Satan, but Adam deliberately chose to disobey God (2 Cor. 11:3; 1 Tim 2:14). In response to her teshuvah (repentance), God blessed Eve before He judged her by imparting to her a God-given hatred for Satan and his lies, as well as the promise that she would take part in the birth of the Savior of mankind. The first promise of the gospel, then, focused on the woman and her role in the coming redemption. Notice that Adam later renamed his wife Eve (i.e., Chavah: חַוָּה, the "mother of life") as an expression of his faith that the promised seed would come through her.

to be concluded with this post about the garden:

When Adam was put in the Garden of Eden, God told him that he was free to eat from any tree in the Garden except from "the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil" (עץ הדעת טוב ורע), which logically implies that evil existed before that time. After all, the knowledge of something assumes the existence of that thing, and if there was knowledge of evil, then evil would exist, at least potentially... If we understand evil (in this context) as a volitional act of disobedience to God's will, the existence of moral agency that could disobey the divine imperative must be assumed. And since the angels were created before the earth was created (Job 38:4-7), then Satan, understood to be an angelic being, had rebelled against God some time before the original prohibition was given to Adam and Eve. Good and evil are therefore terms defined in relation to the person and nature of God: that which is "good" is what God reveals as good, and that which is evil is the negation (or privation) of that good. God's inherent goodness is non-derived and absolute, however, and therefore there is no standard "above" God that determines his judgment about what is good and what is evil. God is the source of all goodness, whereas the "sitra achra" (סִטְרָא אָחֳרָא), or the "other side" of God's will, is the realm of evil or demonic powers.…

Some time after Adam and Eve were created, a mysterious being called "the serpent" (or “nachash”) appeared in the Garden tempting them to do evil by disobeying God. In the Torah we read: "Now the serpent was more "subtle" or "cunning" (עירם) than any other beast of the field that the LORD God had made" (Gen. 3:1). Notice that while the serpent was described as "cunning," he had disguised himself as a "beast of the field" (חַיַּת הַשָּׂדֶה). In his ploy to sabotage God's crowning act of creation, he slyly pretended to be a humble animal that was curious about God's appointed king and queen over the earth. "Was it really true," the serpent began, "that God said you shall not eat from any tree of the garden?" Undoubtedly the serpent deliberately misrepresented God's will as he set his bait. Eve responded to the question by correcting the beast, teaching him that they were allowed to eat fruit from any of the trees in the garden except for the tree in its midst. She then recalled God's commandment, saying: "You must not eat from it, and you must not touch it, or else you will die" (Gen. 3:2-3). In this connection note that Eve had misquoted the commandment by adding the prohibition not to touch the tree -- something God did not say (Gen. 2:16-17).

At any rate, the serpent, seizing the opportunity to exploit Eve's overstatement, then directly contradicted her understanding of the matter: "You shall not surely die!" He then insinuated that God's ulterior motive was to restrict access to the Tree because it would cause their eyes to be opened so they would become like God, knowing the difference between good and evil. It is telling that the serpent accused the Creator with being envious, since that is how he rationalized his own decision to turn away from God, thinking that God did not want to share his glory with any other being than himself (Isa. 14:14).

The trap having been set, Eve became ensnared by doubt. First she began looking the tree over and saw that it bore pleasant fruit; then she recalled the serpent's praise of the fruit of the tree as the means of gaining god-like insight about good and evil, and finally, in her desire, she took some of the fruit, ate it, and gave some to her husband (who was with her). The effect of their transgression was apparently immediate: "The eyes of both were then opened, and they knew that they were naked (עירם); and they sewed fig leaves together and made themselves coverings" (Gen. 3:7).

The serpent had spoken a partial truth: their eyes were opened, but when they saw their own inner evil, they were ashamed. They went dark; they withdrew into lonely and fearful exile. They wanted to hide the truth from themselves and from God himself.

Later, when Adam and Eve heard the sound of God walking toward them in the garden, they attempted to hide themselves among the trees. The Lord then called out, "Ayekah?" Where are you?, though of course he knew exactly where they were hiding. God was calling out to his lost children, asking them to turn back to him. Adam then stepped out from among the trees, covered with fig leaves, and anxiously said, "I heard your voice but I was afraid because I was naked..." (Gen. 3:10).

Recall that when God had created Adam and Eve they were "naked but not ashamed" (Gen. 2:25), but now, after their transgression, their nakedness became a source of fear. Their innocence was lost and this led them into a shattered state of anxiety and self-awareness.

The "original sin" is depicted as eating from the fruit of the "Tree of the knowledge of good and evil," the access of which was gained by means willful disobedience to God, and the consequence of which was separation from God, or "spiritual death." Note that the effect of the curse of spiritual death was "passed down" to the progeny of Adam and Eve as a lethal condition judicially derived from the original transgression in the Garden. In other words, since Adam and Eve functioned as "federal heads" of the human race, their sin was consequently imputed and transmitted to the rest of humanity, as it is written: "Therefore, just as sin came into the world through one man, and death through sin, so death spread to all men because all sinned" (Rom. 5:12).

It is interesting that the same Hebrew root (i.e., ערם) is used to describe both the "cunning" of the serpent (Gen. 3:1) and the "nakedness" of Adam and Eve after their sin (Gen. 3:7). In Satan's case, God exposed his pride which resulted in exile from the heavenly realm (Isa. 14:12-15; Ezek. 28:12-14). After his fall, the "nakedness" of Satan led to the shameless "celebration" of lawlessness and the cunning devices of evil. In the case of Adam and Eve's fall, however, the "uncovering" resulted in exile from the Garden and the shame and fear derived from their own wicked hearts. In both cases, however, the root cause of evil was pride that exalted the will of creature above that of the Creator, and in both cases the consequence of usurping God's authority resulted in judgment and spiritual death. God's judgment upon Satan, however, was irrevocable, since Satan had "nakedly" sinned before the Divine Presence in the realm of the eternal, whereas Adam's judgment was provisional until the coming of the Savior, who would overthrow Satan's claim to be the federal head of fallen humanity by means of the perfect obedience and sacrifice of the "Last Adam," the Son of Man, who would withstand the temptation of the evil one and gain the victory on our behalf. God signified the promised ransom to come by graciously clothing Adam and Eve with the skin of the first sacrificed animal, offered by God himself, in anticipation of the Lamb of God who would take away the sins of the world (Gen. 3:21). [Hebrew for Christians]

10.5.21 • Facebook

Today’s message (Days of Praise) from the Institute for Creation Research

October 5, 2021

The Heart of Stone

“Having the understanding darkened, being alienated from the life of God through the ignorance that is in them, because of the blindness of their heart.” (Ephesians 4:18)

The blindness mentioned in our text is the same word used to describe a kind of stone. In verb form, this word indicates a process and means “to make hard or to petrify.” Often the word is translated as “hardness.”

The people of Israel developed a hard heart and mind toward God and the things of God (2 Corinthians 3:13-15), which continually brought grief and anger to the Lord Jesus (Mark 3:5). Even the disciples suffered from this hardness (Mark 6:52; 8:17).

Our text is directed toward New Testament believers who are challenged not to become blinded or petrified as are unbelievers. This petrification in the moral realm can be compared to the loss of sensation in the physical realm—a kind of spiritual paralysis as when sensor and motor nerves no longer respond. “Who being past feeling have given themselves over to lasciviousness, to work all uncleanness with greediness” (Ephesians 4:19).

Petrification of once-living tissue usually takes place over the course of many years, as each organic molecule decays and is removed, with the space it occupied refilled with stony material dissolved in groundwater percolating through the host material. Or it may take place as material is injected into the living tissue, thus stopping all life processes. In just such a way, the hardening of the heart can take place slowly, but finally petrification is complete. Petrification of wood can be stopped by removing it from the decay-and-replacement process, but natural processes cannot return it to its former state. Praise God that we can “put on the new man” (v. 24) with a renewed (new) mind and spirit (v. 23), no longer hardened toward the things of God. JDM

[shooter-nobunagun]

[I will tear it apart at the seams; if that’s what it takes]

“Commander, there seems to be an object in the air! Headed towards us!”

“Is it an Invasion Object?”

“No—well, I don’t think so...actually, these energy readings...it’s a, holder?”

“What?!”

“Which one? No one’s scheduled for anything right now!”

Their frantic chatter filled his ears, but Adam didn’t really care to listen to any of it. He could have disabled his suit’s radio connection to the main command center if he chose to, but the darker side of him found some sort of deranged pleasure in hearing their confusion and uncertainty. 

“Getting a date...coming in, genetic signal traces to 1888...it’s ball #13?”

“Jack the Ripper?! He’s here?”

“Jack, what’s going on? Status report, please! You are currently retired from the active roster; I repeat, status report!”

A worried buzz filled the command room, Saint-Germain exceedingly quiet while Vidocq brooded in his chair, the bags under his eyes even darker than usual. “Strange, very strange...according to Hunter’s last report, the man could barely get out of bed unassisted, let alone suit up and wield an AU ball...!” The blonde nervously chewed the remains of a half-smoked cigarette, casually spitting out the used tobacco. “He’s up to something...”

“...You think he has an ulterior motive?”

Vidocq eyed their stoic commander uneasily. “...Well, given the current circumstances and everything that’s happened—losing Nobunagun, losing his daughter, not to mention his deteriorating health...do you think he is currently in the best of mental and emotional states?”

“Dr. Hunter reported he seemed stable and was convalescing back in his quarters—”

“—oui, that’s what they all say—but I have a feeling...Adam Muirhead, that man...he never has taken anything sitting down, without a challenge...” Vidocq moved from chewing the cigarette to his thumb. “I don’t like this...”

“You aren’t the only one Monsieur Vidocq,” both the tactician and Commander Saint-Germain turned to the new voice of Michel de Nostradame, who had just entered along with William Tell. “Apologies, I meant to tell you earlier but given the recent events—”

“—just spit it out already—it’s another prophecy, isn’t it?”

“...Oui. Oui, I’m fairly certain...at the time the accuracy was only 44%, so I did not say anything until I could get a better reading. But now with this...” The redheaded seer took off his glasses and wiped them on the edge of his jacket, before putting them back on. “He has done something to himself, that man...and it will end up causing great destruction...and much pain.” 

“Human pain, and suffering...even now, it is a paradox to me.” Dogoo’s bubbling, disembodied voice cut back in, as it was now sealed back inside its hibernation chamber after the disastrous attempt to use it on another human. “You are implying...Adam Muirhead is now hostile towards us, is that correct?” Nobody said anything for a few seconds, as if afraid that once they voiced it, it would come true. 

“...Well, I am not saying he will outright attack us—but, certainly the feelings I sensed in the prophecy, they were...courroux, désespoir—ah, how do you say—”

“Anger, despair,” the Swiss archer translated for the prophet. “Adam Muirhead...even now, some twenty-odd years later, you’re still just a brat that does whatever you want, regardless of how much trouble it causes others...all for the sake of her.” The AU ball gleamed in the dim lights, as if readying itself and its owner for battle. “Tch...how the hell someone like him ended up becoming the leader of the new Second Platoon is still beyond me.”

“Hold on a minute, Tell...you’re not actually going...to confront him?” Even Vidocq seemed shocked at this turnaround, nevermind the fact Adam hadn’t responded to any of the calls, and was still coming closer—and now according to the outer cameras, with his AU weapon fully drawn as well. “Mon dieu...what is going on?!”

“Trust me, the last thing I want is to get in a fight with that idiot—but if that’s what it takes to beat some sense into him, then so be it.” Without another word the archer headed for the gates, stripping off his outer uniform to reveal the undersuit he’d already put on. “Nostradamus, Vidocq, keep me posted—I’ll be out there in a few.”

“W-Wait! Mr. Tell, before you just jump in, please let me take a look!” The Special Squad’s spotter finally burst in, breathless from having run all the way from the other end of the halls. “If it’s as you said Nostradamus, that something’s...changed inside him, maybe my orbs can find the cause and resolve it without having to fight~su!” There was a terse few seconds of staring, but Galileo was determined to not back down, despite Tell’s unnerving glare. The Second Platoon and Special Squad had enjoyed one of the closest bonds between all the platoons over the years; to simply engage in one of their oldest friends without even an explanation was an insult to not only its living members, but Nobunagun’s memory as well.

“...You get five minutes Galileo, and then I’m heading out.” 

The spotter nodded, pink hair that still remained in pigtails to this day flying about. “Roger~su! I can do it in four!” And without even suiting up she called out her AU weapon, the orbs all flying out through the nearest open hatch. “Io, Europa, Ganymede and Callisto! Let’s go!”

The atmosphere was thick inside the command room as all eyes watched the tiny spheres zoom out, while Adam flew closer still. By this point the staff were starting to run through protocols for a possible invasion, even if it was by one of their own and not their designated enemy; the officers and controllers moved about in a daze, as if not really believing that one of their own could turn against them.

“Commander...should we really engage him? He’s not responding, but still...!”

At this Saint-Germain turned his full attention to the screens. “...We must follow the protocol, Vidocq. After all, when Iyo handed the reigns over to me...it became my duty to carry out our mission, no matter what obstacles we might encounter. If we deviate now, it could cause more harm than good.” The glasses were pushed up just a touch further on the bridge of his nose. “I must admit I am a bit surprised Vidocq; that you would go out of your way to defend Mr. Muirhead...”

The blonde heaved a sigh and sank into the depths of his AU easy chair, which itself was sagging due to the holder’s exhaustion. “...Heh, I can see why you would be. I do not blame you...it’s not as if I really got along with either of them...Sio Ogura and Adam Muirhead...and yet...” A finger smudged the stray ashes that were spilling out of the ashtray, staining a greyish streak onto his trousers. “...Call it an epiphany, or perhaps just age; but I think I understand now why he feels this way...although, too little too late perhaps.”

Saint-Germain grew quiet, as if really thinking as himself for once, rather than the mindset of Commander. “To protect that which is precious to you at any cost...that feeling, I understood well...once upon a time...”

“But she is no longer there to protect. So why engage us now?” The clay figure seemed confused, once again reminding them it was not of this planet to begin with. “Human feelings...I know they are complex, but perhaps I underestimated just how much and to what extent they can influence an individual’s actions.”

“Dogoo...what are you insinuating?”

“Perhaps I made a mistake. When I offered Adam Muirhead the option to save Sio Ogura...had it been wrong of me to intervene then?” The bubbles continued to roil amongst the background din of a frantic crew. “I claimed back then human emotions, the ability to feel and love as deeply as he can—as all humans can—is something exceedingly precious and worth protecting. And yet now I can see, those same feelings and emotions...are capable of great and terrible destruction, as well.”

Nobody said a word, only a strained silence as they all tried to justify their actions in their own ways. They knew Dogoo was not wrong—it was correct, this very paradox of emotions that made them human. Love and kindness, hate and despair...

“...You cannot have one without the other, in this world,” Saint-Germain murmured quietly, more to himself than the alien. “Humans are supremely complex; I’m sure you know by now, that not even we fully understand ourselves.”

“But was I wrong?” All eyes turned to the alien figure.

“...Non, Dogoo. For humanity, sometimes there is no right and no wrong; that’s just how life is.” ---- From his viewpoint in the sky, the base was finally coming alive—defensive shields coming up, and the heavy mortars were being uncovered. Though the shells were ultimately useless if the Objects really were to attack, they were at least effective as a buffer—and could more than blow him in half should they land a hit. But that was if they could actually hit him in the first place. Ironically, Adam couldn’t help but think of how excited Sio would be if she saw the heavy artillery being loaded up. Unconsciously his lips quirked into a smile, the memory of when she finally got to command a whole fleet of M1A2 Abrams during Operation Stone Forest bubbling up, so many years ago. 

A gleam caught his eye and he stopped suddenly, focusing his gaze on the four tiny spheres spiraling up into the sky... Galileo, of course. No doubt Command was trying to figure out what was going on first, instead of blindly open-firing.

“Hang on, I think I’m getting something~su!”

The spotter’s high-pitched voice cut back into the radio but he ignored their words, much like he ignored Europa and Io—or whichever orbs Galileo had launched in an attempt to try and scan him. Jack’s power meant that he could shatter them in a blink of an eye and render her blind for good, if he really wanted to, but that would just be a waste of time and energy. That, and Niall would never forgive him; despite his animosity towards DOGOO, Adam couldn’t betray the kindness the anatomist had shown him over the years by incapacitating the one Niall truly loved. They would know the truth soon enough anyway, his changes from Jack—there wasn’t anything they could do, except prepare for the inevitable.

“It’s...no way, it can’t be~su! Mr. Jack...”

“Galileo? What are your readings?”

“These numbers, the wavelengths—it’s, they’re not his usual e-gene signal—no, the most I can compare it to is when he forced the two modes to fuse, Jack the Ripper and Nightingale...but it’s not exactly the same...”

“The mode-change fusion?! He can still do that?”

While the staff was trying to make sense of it all, he was busy taking in the surrounding area. The base was currently offshore, but there was land close enough should it come down to a ground fight. But most importantly was the endless expanse of grey clouds and blue sky that rose above him...

He sensed the other one before the jets even came into view. Not even a warning, he simply appeared before him, clad in the green-and-white suit that always covered his mouth no matter how many iterations their armor had gone through. And though his weapon was different, he too, could soar through the skies the same as him—making two of them DOGOO’s most valuable holders.

“Well well...fancy seeing you here, William Tell.” There was no mistaking the sarcasm in his voice, but the other holder acted as if he didn’t even hear it. “Should’ve known they’d send you of all people...after all, takes one t’ get one...”

“Jack the Ripper. Or I should say, Adam Muirhead...you’re a goddamn pain in my ass, you know that?” The archer’s words were harsh but his expression was neutral. “I wondered if you’d end up learning some empathy for others after you got married...but I guess my expectations were too high. Always doing your own shit...with total disregard to the one who has to clean up your mess. I don’t know why Command has always put me in the role of being your nanny...but perhaps it’s only fitting, that the former head of the Second Platoon shall face off with its current head. Or no, my mistake—that’s Newton’s role now, since your ‘retirement’.“

Despite everything, Adam couldn’t help but bark out a laugh. “Nanny? I always pegged you as more of a guard dog. But that’s your fault, isn’t it? After Columbus died...”

There was an unmistakable pulse of anger in the other’s eyes, but to his credit the archer did not say anything. Before Sio or Adam had joined DOGOO or even awakened their e-genes, there was the holder of Christopher Columbus; who, along with William Tell and Robert Capa, comprised of the original Second Platoon. To this day Adam still didn’t know the whole story; the only dark stain upon DOGOO’s otherwise illustrious history, until that ill-fated mission that lead to Sio’s eventual death. All that ever came trickling out, despite late nights in the document library and casually asking around the senior staff, was somehow Columbus had lost control of his e-gene—an incident dubbed the ‘runaway e-gene’—that resulted not only in enormous casualties, but the holder’s untimely death, as well. And though the old man never stated it, Adam suspected it was what forced an otherwise-healthy holder into a wheelchair and why Tell gave up leading an assault squad, instead being relegated to sniping missions as part of the Special Squad. For, despite how hard the organization tried to wipe the details of what went wrong, still bits and pieces leaked out, and all of them pointed towards the failure of then-leader William Tell to prevent the incident in the first place. Whether or not Tell resigned or they transferred him was never known, but what mattered was to this day, he hadn’t forgotten.

“Since you seem to know everything, then you probably already know what the spiel is: Adam Muirhead, stand down right now, or I will not hesitate to use force to subdue you,” the archer warned, and the arrows were pulled back, ready to fire at a moment’s notice. “I’m not going to give you a second warning.”

“Wasn’t expecting you to even give me one in the first place.” 

Tell’s eyes narrowed in disgust. “Hmph. I promised Galileo I’d give you five minutes to speak your mind...and it seems, those minutes are up.” Without even another signal or glance the arrows fired, but Adam easily weaved through most of them, parrying the last few with his newly-formed blade. It wasn’t as massive as its normal form, instead curving similarly to the claw but it was still wicked-sharp and able to slice through Tell’s arrows with ease. The rush of power at each slice, each swing and blow...even with all the battles he’d been through, the high that comes from dancing the line between life and death took him by surprise.

‘But of course; you’ve always fought to win, for survival. But fighting to destroy, for revenge...it’s delicious, isn’t it?’

Jack’s voice laughed gleefully in his mind as Adam continued to match Tell. Fwwap! Two arrows turned into splinters while a third was dodged; another twist in midair as he moved to block Tell’s multi-shot barrage, the metal feathers liquifying into darts that fired into his own hail of metal shards, the archer hastily pulling back into evasive maneuvers.

“Tell! What are you doing?!”

“They’re seriously going at it...”

No amount of pleas from the ground control, Galileo or otherwise, could sway either man. It was as if they were possessed by some force greater than themselves: Adam fueled by a combination of primal rage and Jack’s darker influences, while Tell met him blow-for-blow with a cold precision that was uncanny of any human, e-gene holder or otherwise.

“Adam! Stand down, for god’s sake!”

“Adam! Don’t~su!”

Back in command, even as the two men continued to clash the ones that remained behind begged futilely for them to stop. Galileo was near sobbing at this point, her voice growing hoarse as she cried while the data from her orbs came in, each data point creating a fresh wave of tears. “Oh, Adam...what would Sio say if she saw this now...you’re only hurting yourself more...” 

“Is there really no way to stop him, except by force?” Vidocq threw his half-smoked cigarette to the ground in frustration. “Surely it can’t come down to something as crude and primal as—this—!”

“Non I’m afraid, Monsieur Vidocq,” Nostradamus sighed, already resigned to watching this aerial duel play out. “This, too...was part of my visions. A swath of destruction, though the outcome...I know not.”

“Wonderful.” Vidocq rolled his eyes, the gears of his AU weapon turning with greater urgency. “So not only do we stand to lose two holders, but the base as well?”

Nostradamus looked almost abashed, if not for the gravity of the situation. “...Oui. There is a high chance we may have to evacuate...”

“That’s part of the standard procedure and things are already underway,” Saint-Germain interrupted, “though from the looks of things, we may need to leave soon as well.”

“You’re joking—and just, what, leave those two like this?!” Vidocq sputtered. “I have known Adam Muirhead during our entire careers together at DOGOO; and though we may have never truly seen eye-to-eye, there isn’t...non, he cannot possibly lose his mind like this—”

“—Nay, but then again, all of this, and the events before...were unprecedented as well, werennae they?” As the regular staff were streaming out in an orderly fashion, Hunter walked in with Adam’s son in tow. “So, ye really did it, ya fuckin’ bastart...bloody hell...” Those tired eyes were still red from tears, but his face was now set in a serious mask of grim defeat. “I tried stoppin’ ‘im, but ye know how he gets...tried talkin’, tried beggin’, hell I tried every single reason I could think of...” Hunter didn’t finish his sentence, only shaking his head very slightly as he clenched his jaw.

“Tou-san! Please, don’t—just stop all this—!”

“Don’t bother; nothing we say seems to be getting through to him, regardless of whether or not his radio’s still connected,” Vidocq sighed heavily, eyes still unable to tear away from the two figures on the screen, who were now weaving in and out around the main armaments. “You should evacuate with the rest of the staff, and let us handle this...”

“—What! But I—my father—”

“Guards, please escort him out to safety with the remaining crew.” Ignoring the teen’s cries, Vidocq rose up from his easy chair, taking over the main control panel as most of the operators left. “...I understand your feelings; however, at this point having you here may well put you in danger...and if there’s anything we cannot afford, it is to lose anymore lives.” With a final nod, the guards forcibly carried him away, the teenager still screaming at his father to stop, pleas that fell on deaf ears and hardened hearts.

“Well, now what? Any more brilliant plans, Vidocq?” Hunter asked sarcastically, though everyone remaining knew there wasn’t much they could do, at least not indirectly. “Adam...what are ye tryin’ t’ prove with all this...?”

“H-He, he’s...oh Adam, don’t do this...no more, please~su...” A tearful Galileo was still combing through the data even as Tell and Adam continue to tear each other apart, both holders now visibly bloody as pieces of their armor started to break away. “Y-You...you won’t survive like this...”

“What’s going on exactly, Galileo?” Despite the overwhelming shock of the situation, Vidocq still maintained his head as their lead strategist. “You mentioned he performed the mode-fusion...”

The spotter nodded slowly. “Yes, at least that’s what I think...the data, it’s not like anything we’ve seen before~su...my best guess, is h-he somehow...forced Jack the Ripper and Nightingale modes to fuse simultaneously, again...but, the numbers...they’re all so, extreme...” A tear slid from her eye as data streamed continuously across her goggles. “His energy levels are way off the charts, even higher than when he was in his prime...but the toll it’s taking on his body...I, I don’t what he did to gain this power—but, eventually...it will kill him...”

The remaining holders glanced at each other warily, their attention still half-focused on the aerial fight. Vidocq’s easy chair was once again spinning its gears, even though its holder was already exhausted. 

“...Dogoo, is there something more about the e-genes themselves that might trigger this? Especially in the case of Jack the Ripper and Florence Nightingale...it would not be inaccurate to say, that technically, Adam Muirhead is a holder to two e-genes, would it...”

“...No, I suppose not. When I met with Nightingale all those centuries ago, we were aware and did agree upon, that both her own powers, and that of ‘Jack the Ripper’ would be necessary for the planet’s future; however the risk it might pose. Just as the ‘Voice of God’ can never be fully controlled...we knew, there would be a possibility that Jack the Ripper could become more powerful over time, a chance he could influence a holder independently from Nightingale.”

The creases in the strategist’s brow grew deeper as his AU weapon calculated furiously. “...If so, and given the data Galileo’s collected...I wonder, is it possible...that Adam is no longer in full control...let alone Nightingale...”

“Wait a minute, ye cannae mean—” Hunter’s eyes widened in shock as the pieces started falling into place, little by little. “My god...are ye insinuatin’ tha, that...his e-gene has somehow...possessed him? Is that even possible?”

“Wasn’t there one recorded incident, of something similar a long time ago?” Nostradamus’ quiet voice spoke up at last. “With the e-gene holder of Christopher Columbus...the ‘runaway e-gene’ incident, I believe it was called? An e-gene who had become corrupted and in turn twisted its holder...”

“You are correct, Nostradamus. Christopher Columbus was one of the first e-gene holders we recruited, and formed the original Second Platoon along with William Tell and Robert Capa. But eventually, the corruption overwhelmed him and he lost control to the e-gene—either voluntarily or involuntarily, we don’t know—but it became a mindless, destructive force, so we had no choice but to stop him. Permanently.” Saint-Germain’s voice carried no trace of hesitation, even as he looked away. “Which means, if the same thing has indeed happened, and Adam is experiencing another ‘runway e-gene’ through Jack the Ripper...”

“We must stop him. No matter the cost.”

At this statement however, Hunter could bear it no longer; instead slamming his fists against the forcefield, the bubbles around Dogoo boiling more than usual. “That’s complete bullshit! So Adam loses control to Jack the Ripper, because yeh sure, who wouldnae be tempted to make a deal wit’ the devil after all the fucked-up shit he went through—and yur only response is to murder him in cold blood?!” Even Vidocq and Saint Germain seemed unnerved by Hunter’s rage, given the anatomist’s usually conservative attitude. “Fuck this! Fuck you all t’ hell!” Slamming the consoles one last time, before he stormed out in a fury. “I’m through wit’ all ‘f you; I dinnae care if it’ll cost me my own life, but I am not going to let you just kill him like this!”

“Hunter, wait~su!” Galileo tried to stop him, but even she was pushed away coldly. Tears ran unchecked down her face, and now she was truly questioning, for the first time, if they were still doing the right thing. “V, Vidcoq...are we, really going to, have to...”

“...I, Saint-Germain, the executive commander of DOGOO, will take full responsibility for any and all actions committed by any other members of DOGOO. As such, William Tell...you are authorized to use any means necessary to prevent another runaway e-gene.” Saint-Germain paused only for a moment, before nodding in slight agreement with Dogoo. 

“Even if it is through lethal force.” ------ “Adam! Call it off! We’re both wasting our time and energy—I know you know this! Adam!” Tell grimaced as he dodged another strike from the winged holder, but not without adding another red streak to what little of his face that remained exposed. “God dammit...! You can’t be serious...”

The other said nothing, only rushed at him with a speed Tell hadn’t thought possible anymore, except back in the days when both holders were in their prime and fighting the Objects. Saint-Germain’s authorizations for lethal force had come through minutes earlier, but the Swiss marksman couldn’t bring himself to do so...yet. Even though he knew full well the risks of a runaway e-gene, and the certain consequences it would bring if Adam was not stopped soon...

‘It’s not even about Adam’s feelings at this point—it’s the e-gene itself wrestling control from its host; whether through false promises or else strong-arming...’ As it had been in the case with Christopher Columbus, decades ago; even before Adam or Sio had joined DOGOO he’d led the Second Platoon then, with Capa and Columbus. He should’ve known then as the leader, when Columbus started exhibiting strangely anti-social behaviors, but put it down to just ‘stress’.

And then...

“Oy! What’s the matter, the guard dog realizing he’s all bark and no bite?” The archer swung back right before the claw carved an actual hole into the armor, instead cleaving a large gash in Tell’s hoverboard. “Tch, sneaky bastard...” The fight was dragging longer than he’d preferred, but Tell was no slouch—not that Adam expected the match to be easy. In truth, had both men been at their optimal peak, they would be evenly matched: both holders were capable of flight, and while Adam specialized in melee combat versus Tell’s long-range arrows, their power levels were on equal footing. Even with the boost he’d already sustained a couple wounds, though nothing too serious yet. ‘Jack, you’d better be sure about this advantage...!’

It seemed the spirit heard, or at least was telling the truth. Three parries and a counterstrike against the barrage of arrows Tell was raining down on him—in one swift movement, his blade caught the tip of an arrow and he flung it back, the explosion nearly knocking the archer from the sky as his board swung wildly, Adam moving in for the kill. “You’re dead—!”

A sharp pain pierced his chest, and at the last second the blade swerved to the left, missing Tell’s artery by inches. “Urgh—wh-what th...” Another convulsion of pain wracked him, forcing Adam to circle back, while Tell looked on in confusion and amazement.

‘Jack! Th’ bloody hell is going on?! My heart...’

 ‘...Ah. It seems our time is nearly up.’

‘What?!’ 

Before Jack could respond however Tell was rushing towards him again, taking advantage of Adam’s momentary weakness and pinning the holder in a vice, unable to fly away nor draw his blade close enough for a swing. “Listen Adam, I don’t know what the hell’s going on in your head, but you need to calm down and stop this at once—”

“Get...off!” Adam struggled, but Tell’s hold was firm. “Ugh...” His heart was pounding like a machine gun as he spat out a mouthful of blood, and Adam knew he didn’t have much time left.

‘I granted you power, yes, and you saw its strength firsthand. But that power only applies so much as your body can take it...and you, as one who has already done so much to yourself...’

Emeralds narrowed into slits at those words, as Adam vainly fought for breath while his chest grew tight. ‘In other words...I’m dying, aren’t I?’

‘...Eventually, yes. This power isn’t meant for humans, even a genetically-enhanced one such as yourself. You are already breaking down on the genetic level; unless you can overcome William Tell before then, you’ll quite literally fall apart.’

Even Jack’s tone was grave for once, Adam stilling for just a second as the realization slowly sank in.  

So, Nightingale was right...of course she would be. How many times had she begged him to not listen to those honeyed words? No, not just his e-gene—but his friends, family...

Niall’s pleas to not leave his son to fend for himself. Mahesh and Jess’ sorrowful looks each time they tried to coax him into joining them for one thing or another, instead of shutting himself away. The sympathetic glances from all the staff and crew, and even the random, sometimes-anonymous messages sent from well-wishers across the globe. 

And his own son...

‘What am I supposed to do?! I don’t know anything—how can I make your name heroic if you’re just going to run off like this?! Please father, you can’t leave me! I can’t lose you too...’

Those memories and words pierced him, even more strongly than the pain now radiating outwards across his entire body. He vaguely heard something from Jack warning him about his DNA unwinding, but even that felt like a faraway dream. Was this really all worth it? Had he made a mistake when that first notion of revenge reared its head, long before Sio and his daughter died—in fact hadn’t he grappled with whether DOGOO was doing the right thing once before? Why had he been able to rally himself then, and not now? What had changed...except everything?

No. No no no; they took everything away from him; his family, life, and a beloved sniper with maroon eyes and a smile that often seemed too big for her face...

“Adam—!” Tell let go in shock, unable to grasp the metal shards that were now sprouting along the other holder’s wings. “Stand down, you’re badly injured! I know your heart can’t take much more; you need to stop this nonsense and get treatment—”

“Shut up!” The claw thrust forward, but even Tell could see his power was waning, only leaning back slightly to dodge the half-hearted attack. “What...would you understand about loss and suffering...Xhavit...” Tell’s real name ground out between gritted teeth, as Adam forced the metal shards to fire, only to nearly fall from intense pain that followed as his heart seemed to squeeze until it was fit to burst. “Aauugh! Fuck...this...!” It was all he could do to even remain in the air, struggling to prevent the AU weapons from vanishing as he fought wave after wave of agony. Blood seemed to be seeping out everywhere: his eyes, nose, coating the inside of his mouth with the vile scent of warm copper as he barely resisted the urge to heave.

“Tell! Now’s your chance. If you can’t restrain him, then finish him. That’s an order,” Saint-Germain’s voice cut in coldly, as Tell attempted to grab the other holder, but still he couldn’t get close enough beyond the rows of spiked feathers, nevermind Adam’s sword that was still attempting to decapitate him. “What are you waiting for? If you let him continue, there’s no telling what he’ll do!” 

The arrows pulled back but Tell hesitated; his target was right there, a mess of blood and metal wings but he was weakening; he could see the tremors of pain running through the other man’s body, hear the pained wheezing as Adam struggled for breath while still attempting to lash out. 

“Adam...please, that’s enough. Don’t make me do this,” Tell warned. He could fire right now and end the battle—he should, and yet... An image from thirty-some years earlier came flashing forward, a towering abomination of limbs and flesh-fused metal that was only barely human lunging towards him and Capa, screaming at them to end its life...

“If...yer really not just all bark...then why don’t ya do it?” The archer startled out just in time, narrowly avoiding another slash while Saint-Germain barked at him to stop stalling, that Adam was very likely beyond saving at this point. “I know you want to...and they’re tellin’ you...so just end it already.”

“Adam...!”

“Unless, you want to die—!” Despite his own pain Adam surged forward, literally knocking headfirst into the archer and sending him swerving across the sky to regain his balance. There was no point in holding back now; whether by Tell’s hand, or his own body’s degradation, Adam knew his time was up. Everything was coated with a haze of pain, from simply drawing a breath to to forcing his wings to continue flying. If it weren’t for Jack’s power holding him together, he was sure his heart would’ve burst by now.

“...No!” In one moment, and with total disregard for his own safety, Tell let the claw pierce his side. A gush of blood went flying but Tell ignored it, ignored the searing pain as he finally grappled the other holder, this time determined not to let go, feather and blades be damned. “No, Adam. Death and killing...they’re not always the only way out. I know this. You know this. Mindless destruction...we’ve both had enough, haven’t we?”

“Nnngg...! No...stop!” Adam tried to reach behind for Tell, but suddenly everything seemed so weak, so tired...he doubled over as pain pierced his chest again, so strong that he couldn’t help but cry out.

“Adam! Command, we need a medical evac—!”

“...No...don’t, bother...” His vision blurred and sounds were all strangely muddy, even Jack’s voice nothing more than a faint whisper. “I’m dying, and they know it...all, I want now...is to just see her again. Just do it, Xhavit...kill me, and let me rest...please...”

“Nay Adam, I willnae allow it! Xhavit, you’d better not try anything stupid!” Hunter dashed out among the concrete pillars, grappling to the highest point of the command center he could reach. “Dinnae you listen to those orders Xhavit! Adam, we can still help you! I can still help you! Adam!”

Niall... Why was he still continuing to fight, to struggle when Adam himself had already long given up? What was it about Niall that allowed him to continue holding on to hope, however false it may have been? Perhaps it was proof then, proof that people like Niall and Xhavit and even Henri were better than him, more capable and worthy of life compared to him. After all...how could a the embodiment of humanity’s worst fears ever be worthy of true happiness... A surge of pure despair and hatred towards himself rushed through him, overcoming even the pain as Adam felt his mind fall into an unknown haze as a feeling of disconnect from his body numbed all other senses.

‘There’s no going back at all from this. You cannot ever be considered human from here on out. And it should go without saying, but you definitely will not survive.’

‘Yeh, I know. That’s fine. It’s something I’ve wanted...for a while now.’

‘...Heh, you surprised me Muirhead. Perhaps even...impressed me. You an’ me, we might’ve actually gotten along...had we met under different circumstances.’

Jack’s voice seemed to fade away into a void too, after that. And then there was nothing more, no other voices telling him what to do or how to do it, no more phantoms or pleas from his memories, or even the soul whom he was supposed to be the reincarnation of. Only a lingering feeling of sadness, or maybe it was regret, but he was too tired to figure out which one it was...

“Adam—!”

“What th—oh, jesus fuckin’ christ...!”

It grew, the metal melting and oozing like a hideous slime as the AU weapons distorted before their very eyes, covering Adam until he was barely visible as the goo seemed to grow and reshape everything. Long, twisted spikes shot out from all angles to what could only be assumed as ‘limbs’, while feathers seemed to grow and disappear at random, as if the being was trying to figure out how to even structure itself. Something akin to blood kept dripping from cracks and gashes, only the color and viscosity seemed closer to an oily sludge. A monstrous, half-formed wing made up of both organic and metal feathers shot out suddenly, precariously held in place by sinewy strands of muscle, and the whole thing seemed to quiver as a rumbling noise vibrated from deep within the creature, as if moaning in its own agony.

“It’s another runaway e-gene! Commander, what should we do?”

“Oh no...! No, no no no...this can’t be happening~su!”

“Tell, Hunter—if you aren’t prepared to stop it then retreat immediately!”

Tell let go but hovered a short distance away, too stunned by the awful metamorphose before him as Hunter could only watch in growing horror from his position. “By th’ name of all that is good and holy...Adam Muirhead, what’ve ye done...” A monster, that was the only word left to even begin describing the...thing, or creature, that was now lumbering in front of them. Nothing remained that could even vaguely be described as human, except for a continued, echoing moan that sent a shudder of despair down both holder’s spines. “Adam...! Oh no, please mate, ye cannae—tell me yur still in there!”

“Niall!” In a split-second the remaining holders tumbled against the ground, Tell tackling the anatomist just before giant shard of metal pierced the very spot he’d been standing. “C’mon, we can’t stay here any longer! When a holder turns into a runaway e-gene...there’s nothing more we can do for them. Trust me, I know...from experience.”

“But—”

“—No time for ‘buts’ Niall—oh shit get down!” 

First came the wave of metallic feather shards, raining in every which direction and seemingly capable of piercing through several inches of solid concrete. Shouts were heard from the command center as a metal tendril whipped through the control tower, sending glass flying every which way as the unluckier members of DOGOO were flung into the cloud of smoke as debris rained from the sky. 

“Commander, we need to get out here!”

“All remaining DOGOO personnel evacuate immediately!”

“Adam! Stop this, ye gotta come t’ yer senses! Please!” But even Hunter could only watch in shock as what was left of his friend, now a grotesque, swollen abomination of alien metal and human guts, barreled towards them with a primal roar before everything seemed to implode and explode at the same time.

Oh Sio, I’m so, so sorry...

Sorry...

So— ----- “C—mander—py? I r—eat does an—opy?”

Smoke and ash were falling in a quiet hush when the anatomist regained consciousness. Next to him, the archer was also stirring, as the emergency broadcast continued in their radios.

“Bloody hell...wha happened...Adam, he...!” Niall looked around in shock, surveying the damage and destruction, most of which was unfortunately centered around DOGOO’s main command center. “Oh no...”

“He couldn’t live with it. Either with his fate...or himself. And so he was determined to bring us down with him...” Xhavit sighed heavily as he pulled the other holder up from the wreckage. “Fucking hell, I shouldn’t have hesitated...should’ve just ended it in one, clean shot, like he wanted...”

“No need for such self-deprecation, William Tell.” Both holders spun around as Commander Saint-Germain picked his way through the rubble, glasses cracked but still sitting on the bridge of his nose. “You were under immense pressure...everything that happened today, shouldn’t have in the first place, had we been more careful...”

“Tch, oh yeh, now ye fools start thinkin’ ‘bout what ye could’ve done? Load a good that’ll do...” muttered Niall, but without any viciousness. “What ‘bout the others? Henri, Valentina...”

“Vidocq and Galileo are both unhurt, along with Nostradamus. They managed to evacuate with Dogoo and the last of the controllers...though as for the base itself, I cannot say the same...” The three men stared silently at the smoldering wreckage. “This will set us back quite a bit...”

“Somehow, I cannot help but feel it was intentional,” a French accent chimed in, as Henri arrived with Dogoo in tow. “As Nostradame said, Adam’s feelings of frustration and vengeance...” The strategist only shrugged but didn’t finish his sentence.

“Even though he was aware that DOGOO is the Earth’s last and only line of defense against the Invasion Objects? And that hurting us will only hurt those he cared about?” The bubbling voice of Dogoo was accompanied by the creaks as it struggled to move itself over the debris. “Once again, my limited knowledge of human nature shows itself...”

"Forget it, all this...in the end, I can’t tell if fate just had it out fer him, or we just got unlucky.” Niall sighed heavily, too tired to shed anymore tears. “At least, ye can finally rest now, Adam...you and Sio both, together. It’s what ye wanted fer so long...”

“Human emotions...or rather, the human capacity for love. Perhaps its true force can only be understood by that of a human, and not an outsider...” The others gave the alien a questioning look, but said nothing else.

“All this time we have labelled the Evolutionary Objects as monsters without peer, yet now I cannot help but think, perhaps the darkness that resides in all of humanity...may be just as monstrous.”

There was no answer.