#by a stupid fucking customer who like most cannot for their life safely use a computer

[isolationaroundus]

Man I just did some Neo Matrix shit and I saved me so much trouble and anxiety and more stuff.....

I love it when I feel extremely proud of myself. I hate it that it happens so rarely tho...

I fucked that virus right in the ass gtfo 🖕🏻🖕🏻

Me? Get hacked while I'm on serious mode? Hell fucking no bruv. Fuck offfffff 🖕🏻🖕🏻🖕🏻

[bajisbabe]

[author’s note] I rewrote this post THREE times...

# DON’T KNOW WHY I STILL TRY, SHE WONDERS WHY

“I don’t trust nobody, not even her.”

they accidentally hit you | Yandere!Mikey, Ran, Wakasa

warnings: accidental violence, brief mention of actual violence, implied kidnap, yandere, Mikey kicking reader, Ran hitting reader, Wakasa kicking reader.

anon said: “Request for a Yandere ran, Mickey and Wakasa where they accidentally hit you? Like they accidentally slap or kicked u too hard for any reason”

song: trust nobody, love nobody the same by sagun (feat. shiloh dynasty)

— is probably beating tf out of someone who thought they could get between you two; maybe someone who came to rescue you or tried to help you escape.

— he is about to end them with that legendary kick of his, but his foot catches your jaw because you thought it would be a great idea to jump in front of whoever Mikey is beefing with in a pathetic attempt to save their miserable life.

— and Mikey is able to slow the kick just enough so that you don’t get the full force, but you still get hit as it was far too late for him to stop when you suddenly jump in front of him like that.

— and you go flying.

— like you’re literally knocked off of your fucking feet.

— and he watches your body crumple on the floor as you land.

— you let out a lil’ yelp as you hit the ground.

— suddenly, he forgets all about the loser he’s beaten bloody and runs over to check on you.

— he kneels over you, tugging your limp body into his lap.

— he smooths back your hair, rubbing his thumbs over your temples as he softly calls your name.

— and when you don’t respond, he gets panicked and begins calling your name louder and louder until you answer with a groggy, “what?”

— he gets so angry at himself that he has to take it out on something, or rather someone.

— so he moves as though he is going to go back to kicking ass, but you weakly tug at his wrist and beg him not to.

— and he sees how weak and vulnerable you are at the moment, and how you’re begging him so sweetly for someone else’s life.

— he hesitates, but in the end, he gives up and leaves that person alone. even though he has already given them the beating of a lifetime.

— and he does his best to help you get somewhere safe where you can be treated without alerting the authorities of course.

— he feels really guilty about it and keeps apologizing.

— and if you ask him not to go after that person again, in this moment, when the guilt is eating him alive, he won’t.

— but only if you ask him now, while he still feels like shit about how things ended up.

— he’s not as smart as people give him credit for.

— he really is quite a brute.

— he swings on kids with bricks and batons in parking lots for fun.

— he is most likely testing out his new weapon, whatever it may be.

— maybe a brand new shiny, steel bat that’s sole purpose is to beat in the faces of anyone who tries to take you away from him.

— he had it custom made to ensure that it’s got the right weight to it.

— and he is just swinging it about when you happen to pop up out of nowhere.

— maybe you had heard all the swooshing and just wanted to see what was up.

— but you happen to come too close and Ran doesn’t even see you, having way too much fun testing out his new weapon.

— and Ran is just swinging, swinging, swinging.

— and then he turns and you’re right fucking there. but it’s too late to stop it.

— luckily enough for you, he is able to lift his hand just enough so that his fist hits you rather than the bat.

— but it still hurts.

— you’re not necessarily knocked off your feet, but you get hit and become dizzy.

— your legs give out and you fall to your knees, cheek aching.

— he immediately collapses to kneel in front of you, hands hovering in front of you.

— he’s too afraid to touch you. he thinks he might hurt you again.

— “sorry.” he blurts, mouth dry.

— this means a lot because Ran never apologizes.

— but he feels so fucking sorry.

— your eyes are glossy, your lower lip pulled between your teeth as you fight back tears.

— I don’t blame you. I KNOW that shit hurt 🤕

— “I’m sorry,” he blurts again. “Can I—is it okay if I—uhm, what do you want me to…?”

— He can’t figure out what to do or how to help you.

— he feels like shit, and he thinks you’re gonna hate him even more now.

— you just sniffle, taking a deep breath as you blink back tears.

— “can I… Is it okay if I…?” His hands jolt as though he’s trying to stop himself from touching you.

— he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable. He doesn’t want to see you scared, or see you flinch.

— and you don’t really have much of a choice because he might have broken something in your face and you need some kind of help, so you take him up on his unsaid offer.

— you nod softly, swallowing a sob as your cheek aches painfully.

— he slowly tugs you into his arms, soothing his large hands over your back.

— he cups your face gently in his hands and tilts your face to get a better look.

— your eyes are stinging as he asks you where exactly it hurts.

— “Sorry,” he murmurs again. “I’ll get Rindou to check on you,” he says. “He’s good with medical shit.”

— actually thinks you look rather nice when crying but won’t mention it because he can read the room.

— coddles you and calls you all kinds of nicknames.

— “baby, I’m sorry.” / “it won’t happen again, sweetheart.” / “I didn’t mean to, honey.”

— sits there while Rindou patches you up, holding your hand (if you let him) and telling you that you’re doing so good whenever you clutch his hand hard or when you squeeze your eyes shut in pain.

— promises to buy you whatever you want to fix it.

— even if you insist that you don’t want anything, he’ll still get you something.

— probably still tells you that he’s sorry under his breath.

— he is so pressed about the situation that he doesn’t even use the shiny, steel bat he bought.

— it’s expensive and custom made, and he’s not gonna use it at all solely because he almost hit you with it.

— he thought you were someone else.

— when he heard someone creeping out of the hideout, he assumed it was an outsider who stumbled across the place and was trying to escape.

— and his reflexes are fast.

— so without thinking, he clocks you upside the head from behind.

— he most likely noticed that it was you he was about to hit but by then, it was too late to stop.

— but he doesn’t even try to hold back or slow the punch at all.

— he lets you take it full force.

— you are quite literally knocked off your fucking feet.

— and when you hit the ground, you’re gasping for air because you’re winded thanks to the impact of the fall.

— and he just peers over you, watching you with that resting bitch face of his.

— he doesn’t even apologize.

— he quietly asks you where you were going, knowing damn well you can’t respond because you cannot breathe.

— and he doesn’t help either.

— he just watches you sputter for air.

— your ribs could be broken.

— and if you get upset and scream about how he could have hurt you, he’ll just shrug and say that he pulled the kick so that you wouldn’t get hurt as bad.

— liar. 😔

— if you need any kind of patching up, he will help.

— but he will probably have something backhanded to say about how if you didn’t try to escape then this wouldn’t have happened.

— is a lil’ insensitive.

— your body is probably sore and aching and he doesn’t even care.

— might purposefully run his hands over the place where he knows it’ll hurt most just to watch your pretty face contort with subtle pain.

— might even take his fingers and dig them into the sensitive skin that suffered from the impact just to see if you’ll yell or cry.

— he finds you interesting and wants to see you make as many expressions as possible.

— expressions of pain are not excluded.

— would be a lil’ hurt if you flinched away from him after the whole ordeal.

— but he isn’t stupid, he could understand why you’d fear him. he just can’t find it in himself to care.

— not that he would intentionally hurt you.

— but if it happens, if happens 🤷🏾‍♀️

— might feel guilty if you show that you’re genuinely upset.

— if you want him to stop poking and prodding at your bruises, you’re gonna have to cry.

— he might go easy on you then, but that’s a might, not a will.

[mnictasbcl]

Life without death

For #dbhcolorsofdeviancy, prompt:

June 4th: No human lives forever @connor-sent-by-cyberlife

Rating: Teen

Characters: Connor, Hank Anderson, Markus

Relationships: Connor & Hank Anderson, Connor & Markus, hinted Connor/Markus

Additional Tags: Mortality, Existentiality, Fear of Death, Swearing, Gun Violence, Injury, Graphic Injury, Suicidal Thoughts, kind of but it’s there so keep safe readers, Hospitals, Medical, Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Summary: Connor learns about Hank’s mortality on a mission gone wrong.

 TW: Blood, Graphic gun injury, Slight suicidal thoughts

Story below! Or, read it on AO3

There were some things Connor didn’t like to think about. As an android, it was quite easy to shut away these topics in little boxes in his mind, neatly sorted away.

One of them was Amanda. Of course, that box would open itself up sometimes, despite the fact she and the control she could exert over his programming was gone… it would open itself up and play back images in his mind whilst he went into stasis.

The point of these boxes, however, were to protect himself, and for the most part, they worked. Never in his waking moments would he have to experience the unpleasant feelings they brought.

Of course, never… well, never experiencing them in a perfect world. And the world was far from perfect.

Mortality was another.

He knew he could not die, instead his body would be fractured beyond repair and if he did not upload his memories, he would cease to exist. That’s what the more logical side of his mind tried to argue, anyway.

The side unlocked by deviancy, well, it quivered in the face of fatal danger, it took the fears of no longer experiencing the world, no longer experiencing at all, and locked it away in a vault.

Connor supposed that’s why he’d never even thought to breach the subject of human mortality.

In hindsight, maybe he should have at least acknowledged it.

  _________________

 It was a Monday. Late afternoon, and the weather in Detroit was less than optimal. Rain was pouring down, making every known surface slippery with moisture. Hank, as predicted, was grousing about it.

“Fucking weather. Fucking rain. Fucking criminals.”

Of course, Connor couldn’t deny that it was rather unfortunate they were on their way to a crime scene, a murder that had been committed outside rather than in the comfort of a rain-free building.

“It is rather loud.” He commented, listening to the raindrops hammering onto the roof of the car. “I can’t even hear your music, which is at a few decibels above the recommended levels of—”

“Rain?” Hank scoffed. “I can’t hear it over the stick up your ass.”

Connor pursed his lips, still in the process of reaching to turn down the music. “If I had a proverbial stick up my ass, I don’t believe it would make a sound.”

Hank laughed. Pulling the car into park, he was still chuckling. “I just… can’t get over the sound of you swearing.”

He raised a brow, smirking. “Would you like me to say it again, Lieutenant?”

“Please don’t.”

Hank’s good mood was gone again as they got out of the car, expression souring as the rain pelted down onto his head.

Connor found it was even more troublesome as he crouched down beside the body to analyse it. Whilst a small tent had been set up over it, the rain had already done enough damage to wash away vital evidence.

“All blood on the body belongs to the victim, Caria Moltoz.” He sighed, rubbing his hands on his trousers as he got up. “However, the sample is fresh, and along with evidence shown by the wounds… I don’t think the crime was committed all that long ago. We may still be able to find evidence of the killer on the nearby security feeds.”

Hank nodded, turning to go and find these feeds, before noticing Connor’s LED was swirling yellow, eyes flickering rapidly. He was about to express concern, until the android suddenly turned to him.

“I have accessed the cameras and have reviewed the footage—”

“Of course you have.”

“—and I believe the suspect is not too far away from this location.”

  And so, they made their way to the direction Connor had viewed their suspect going in. They had appeared to duck into a nearby clothes store, which unfortunately was quite large.

“At least we’re getting out of the rain.” Hank sighed in relief as they entered the building, placing his coat on the rack so he didn’t track water all over the store.

Connor shook a little, reminding him of Sumo coming in from a walk after the rain. At Hank’s look, he frowned and placed his own jacket onto the rack. “Apologies, Lieutenant. I forgot I am no longer wearing my Cyberlife jacket. It was waterproof.”

“Looked shit, though.”

He nodded. “I agree.”

 The store was fairly busy, with handfuls of customers here and there. No one had any recollection of a human running inside the store in a hurry, so the suspect must have kept their cool.

Luckily, they were fairly undercover themselves, so it was unlikely the suspect would see them with suspicion and find a way to slip out unnoticed.

“They were wearing a navy blue coat along with dark jeans when I viewed the footage,” Connor whispered to Hank through a stand of clothes which they were pretending to browse through, “but I cannot see anyone of that description in this store.”

Hank nodded, eyes scanning over the room himself, before he spotted something. “Wait here.” he said, taking a black shirt off the hook and making his way towards the changing rooms.

Connor nodded, data piecing together in his mind, forming a conclusion when the older man came back over to him, navy blue coat in his arms along with other items of clothing.

“The suspect changed. Unfortunately, then, I didn’t manage to get a look at their face on the footage, it was covered partially…”

“We’ll get ‘em.”

Deciding it was in their best interest to drop the undercover act, they had the store manager close up briefly, keeping everyone inside for questioning.

“It won’t take long.” Hank placated the disgruntled shoppers.

They made their way through the groups, Connor using his questioning tactics to try and find out who it was. He kept an eye on everyone’s stress levels, including those they weren’t currently talking to, but nothing changed drastically. There were no signs of a killer among them.

“Yeah, thank you for your time.” Connor could tell that Hank was trying to keep the bitterness out of his tone as the shop opened up again. He shared the feeling. They’d spent all this time searching, probably on what would be their best lead to solve this case, and they had nothing.

“Fuck. Well… at least whilst we’re here, I could do with a new coat. This one barely kept the rain out.”

“That’s the spirit, Lieutenant.”

Hank made his way over to the displays, pointing at a brown overcoat. “That looks like it’d suit me. Maybe not the hat, though,” he laughed, pointing to the fedora perched atop the mannequins head. He reached for it, pulling it—

Connor shouted at the same time the mannequin moved, pulling a gun out of the pocket of the brown overcoat, shoving Hank to the side just as the shot went off, and another.

People screamed. The suspect managed to run out of the store, skidding out into the rain, away, away, away…

Connor didn’t move. Why wasn’t he moving? He needed to move. Needed to chase away the…

He groaned. Something flashed in his vision, red and warning. A damaged biocomponent. Huh. Maybe that’s why it hurt.

He was losing thirium, however, it wasn’t fatal, not yet. “Hank, we need to get them, they’re…”

That was strange. Why wasn’t Hank answering? Usually he pushed Connor back to the ground, telling him he’s injured, that he should stay down and wait for him to come back.

But there was nothing.

Panic coursed through his systems. Despite the hot flare that spiked in his side when he moved, he didn’t stop, not until he saw Hank—

Hank, laying beneath him. And there was blood. There was a lot of blood. Red, flowing on the floor, soaking into his coat, staining the fibres and the bits of Sumo hair caught in the fabric—

“Hank!”

He couldn’t focus. He might get repaired, but Hank couldn’t. He… humans didn’t live forever. Would he die? Would Hank die here, on the floor of a clothing store in Detroit, whilst Connor could do nothing to stop it?

The wound. Right. The wound. He grabbed the nearest thing he could find (a scarf) and pressed it against the wound. He had to stop the bleeding. Staunch the flow. Stop Hank from dying—

His grasp was weak. Stupid, it was weak. It was the damn wound in his side, thirium leaking out of it steadily, it was making his hands shake and his brain go fuzzy.

“Hank.” He tried again. The Lieutenant didn’t stir. He could see he was breathing, but was if he stopped? What if he died?

Sirens. Sirens were loud, he noted, hands shaking, blood caking his fingers, getting stuck up his artificial nails. Someone was pulling him away. They seemed comforting, but they were pulling him away from Hank, and their words were distant, sucked away in a vacuum—

“Please, you have to save him,” Connor choked out, “he can’t die—he can’t—”

The hands tugged, and with his fading strength, Connor let them. He hoped they would save Hank. And if they didn’t, he mused internally, blackness creeping in the edges of his vision, the warning messages getting dimmer, then he would like to join him.

    _________________

 The first thing Connor registered upon waking was that he wasn’t dead.

The second thing was that he couldn’t see Hank.

He sat bolt upright, finding himself restrained slightly by a tube attached to his side, along with multiple wires across his body. Connor didn’t register where he was—the sheer panic from before starting to creep back into him.

He tore the wires out, before beginning to tug on the tubing. However, before he could get it dislodged, alarms set off by his disturbance had alerted people to his struggle. Some technicians ran in, shouting something about blue blood. But he couldn’t think about that right now, whatever damage he had sustained; he couldn’t see Hank.

Hank was dead.

Connor pulled on the tubing with more force, only stopping when gentle hands clasped around his arm.

“Connor, you need to calm down. You’re going to hurt yourself.”

The words were steady, despite the situation, filled with comfort, and the voice was familiar.

“Let the technicians plug the wires back in, they’re helping you. Just… easy…”

He couldn’t yet put a name to the voice, but he complied, allowing himself to be eased back onto the bed. If Hank was dead… there was nothing he could do about it anyway.

He stopped his struggling but couldn’t stop the tears slipping from beneath his lashes. His body shuddered minutely, hand scrubbing over his face. As everything became more in focus, he looked up to the voice, and saw Markus.

Markus met his eyes, and his gaze softened. As soon as the technicians were done, he ushered them out of the room before perching on the side of the bed Connor was laying on.

“What’s wrong, Connor?”

He took a breath. Opened his mouth, then closed it again. His thoughts were incoherent. The box was open, tipping its jumbled contents all over his mind, and he couldn’t string the words together. In the end, he mumbled, “Hank.” Voice breaking in the middle of the syllable.

Markus nodded. “I know you must have panicked not seeing him here, but rest assured, he’s safe. You saved him, actually. The shot you blocked would have hit—well,” he softened his words upon seeing Connor’s expression, “you saved his life.”

Connor furrowed his brows, looking down at his hands. They were clean. “But… there was so much—so much blood. Hank’s blood.”

The other android grimaced. “Yes, the wound he sustained did hit some arteries, but nothing major. He will need a fair amount of time to recover, as will you, but he’s stable.”

“That’s… good.” Connor breathed, suddenly feeling the urge to change the subject. “But—recover? I thought my systems would be able to self-heal.”

Markus shrugged. “The technicians said that you will be able to self-heal the damage now given adequate thirium, but because the damage was to a major biocomponent, it will take time.”

He nodded. That made sense. At least it would give him an excuse to stay home with the Lieutenant whilst he recovered.

“He’s lucky he didn’t die. I’m… lucky.” Connor breathed after a moment of thought.

Markus placed a hand gently on his shoulder. “Humans are fragile. That’s why he has you.”

“But one day… I might not…”

“You’re not perfect, Connor.” The RK800 blinked at that, taken aback. “No one is. But you didn’t fail today, and you won’t tomorrow. Besides, Hank is a skilled detective.”

Connor breathed in deeply. Markus’ words made sense. But now the box was tipped out, his mind was rifling through its contents. Mortality.

“Even so, the Lieu—Hank won’t live forever.”

Markus smiled sadly. “No, he won’t.” He agreed. “Someday, neither will we.  But that isn’t what living is about, Connor, not thinking about death.” A pause. “What do you enjoy doing with Hank?”

He thought over it. “I like working on cases with him. But- right, other than work. Well, we do watch movies together in the evenings; he usually ends up falling asleep halfway through them, but it’s—well, it’s endearing. And sometimes he comes along with me when I’m walking Sumo, we stop in the park…” he drifted off into the memory, looking to the ceiling, eyes starting to feel heavy, tired out from the wound and the exertion.

“That’s what life is about, Connor.” Markus said softly, hand moving away from his shoulder, briefly trailing over his forehead and pushing the stray strands of hair to the side. He smiled.

[lovelyirony]

Oh Geamanee Christmas Trees! That mob au with the love/hate thing was flipping fantastic. If you're still taking prompts, I would love to see more in that 'verse- especially things like how the two sides continue to work together and/or antagonize each other. You developed those relationships and tensions so well, I would love to know what else you come up with! Thanks again for all of the amazing talent you share with us!!

i’m so happy you loved it! i wasn’t originally planning on continuing, but with a comment like this how could you not? 

Working together still isn’t all daisies and roses, no matter how much Bucky likes Tony’s slouchy cardigans and snarky responses early in the morning. 

For one thing, Steve and Tony clash. A lot. They actually work pretty well together, if both of them could collectively stop shoving their heads up their ass and calling it “being in the right.” 

“Can you maybe stop?” Natasha asks, rolling her eyes at another rant that Steve’s on about “responsibility” and Tony has been thoroughly ignoring. “Bucky, fix this. I’m annoyed.” 

“Ooh, you got Nat annoyed,” Bucky says, not even looking up from his physics homework. “Steve, you’re gonna have to get to Tony through another way, he doesn’t like listening to you. Tony, you were playing with fire with your motorcycle idea and risking getting caught.” 

“If we don’t take risks, then what are we doing?” Tony snaps. 

“Staying safe and not getting caught!” Steve responds back. “God, Tony--” 

“Nope,” Bucky says, dragging Steve by the arm. “Not doing this. I need to do physics and none of you are helping. Tony, you actually need to teach me this shit because I fell asleep in class.” 

“Told you not to stay up at the stakeout,” Tony mumbles. He turns to Steve. 

“Look, I get it. I won’t pull the motorcycle stunt again so long as you don’t nag me like you’re secretly an old man. Got it?” 

“...got it,” Steve says. 

Bucky’s already turned around. Natasha’s grinning at Steve and mouthing “lovesick” at him in reference to the two at the kitchen table. 

“I’m only doing this because your mom would kill you if you failed your next test and I still need you to shoot Rumlow later,” Tony warns. 

“Sure, okay,” Bucky says easily. “You want me to brew coffee before all this?” 

“Obviously,” Tony says with a snort. 

They get each other a hell of a lot more than they mean to. Tony knows that Bucky secretly hates any type of meat besides pepperoni on pizza and makes sure to save him some slices when everyone else is an animal. 

Bucky knows that Tony’s consistently cold, hates wearing contacts, and if he’s listening to Black Sabbath, it’s about to be the best mood he’ll ever be in. 

He also likes flowers. He gets a wistful look in his eye when he sees daffodils on a window sill, or dandelions edging onto the sidewalk. 

So when Bucky messes up one of Tony’s favorite cars--a scratch on the side, but still damage--he buys him a bouquet of flowers. Custom. 

“How did you...?” 

“You moon over flowers too much,” Bucky grunts. “Not meanin’ anything by it. Just know I messed up.” 

Rhodey laughs when Tony comes home with them. 

“You guys a couple now or something?” 

“An apology for scratching Hepburn up,” Tony says. “He said it doesn’t mean anything, and it doesn’t. Now drop it, or I’m making sure that I’m not making any ramen for you.” 

“We’ll table it,” Pepper adds, whirling into the room. “Right now, I want to talk strategy for the charity auction.” 

“No,” Tony says flatly. “I am not going, you’re not going to make me.” 

“An auction piece has to go,” Pepper says smugly. 

“You fucking didn’t.” 

“One date with Tony Carbonell on a Friday, with three options for destination,” Pepper says. 

“That’s a stupid idea,” Tony snarls. “I could be killed!” 

"Not as much as you think,” Rhodey says. “Hydra could bet on it. We kill them. Or it’s a good show of faith when a member of the Barnes clan wagers. Hell, you and Bucky practically have a mandated date night.” 

“Like he’d do that,” Tony says, rolling his eyes. “Does this mean I have to wear a fancy suit?” 

“Or something,” Rhodey says. “I think you’d look nice in a button-down and slacks.” 

Tony huffs. 

“And contacts!” Pepper says. 

“Absolutely not!” Tony says. “Give me glasses or give me death!” 

- 

Bucky did not want to go to the auction. It made absolutely no sense for him to be there. Everyone else could go, Natasha could probably rack up tons of donations with a smile, and dress shoes are not his favorite. 

“You’re going,” Sam says. “Because your boy is being auctioned off for a date night and there’s no way in fuck you’re going to let him suffer through someone horrible.” 

“Who is ‘my boy’?” Bucky asks. Sam rolls his eyes. 

“How you’ve survived this long, I’ll never know. You’re as dense as a fruitcake. Tony, Bucky. Tony volunteered to auction off a date night.” 

“Pepper probably did it, he would hate that. Absolutely hate it.” 

“See? Your guy,” Sam says. “Maria got you an outfit.” 

It’s better than a tux, he’ll give them that much. Black shirt, white piping making it seem a bit more formal than it is. It’s a bit big, resting gracefully over his shoulders. 

Tony notices when he enters the room. 

“Like what you see?” Bucky asks, smile tilting. 

“Obviously not, I just can’t find any trash cans to vomit into,” Tony responds, no real heat to it. “Thought you weren’t coming.” 

“Thought you hated these kinds of events.” 

“Not my idea,” Tony says. “Pepper signed me up for a date. Which is just fantastic.” 

“Told Sam you’d hate it,” Bucky says, shrugging. “You know what kind of appetizers they’re serving?” 

“Nothing you’d like.” 

“Shit.” 

Tony readjusts his glasses, looking around the room. 

“Anyone here we’re not a fan of?” 

“Besides some old money families, not many,” Bucky says. “Anyone here you’re dreading?” 

“Hammer,” Tony says, jerking a thumb over to a guy in a white suit. 

That’s all kinds of bad decisions, in Bucky’s opinion. And in common sense. 

“He’s an asshole who thinks we’re on the same level. We’re not. He also wears way too much cologne. At least you’re tasteful about it.” 

“You noticed my cologne?” Bucky asks. 

Tony turns red. 

“We work together. Of course I did.” 

Bucky’s pulled away by someone, dragged into a different conversation. Tony’s left to go socialize, choosing to stick close to his own group and avoid anyone who talks to him. 

- 

Tony Carbonell is the talk of the town. He’s notoriously drawn away, sharp, and gorgeous. 

Bucky knows this entirely too well. 

He huffs as he sees two more people take appreciative glances at Tony, and well. He knows he’s about to bet more money than ever before. 

“You sure your finances can take it?” Steve asks. 

“They absolutely cannot, but I’m not about to let Tony go on the worst date of his life.” 

“Then don’t worry about it,” Sharon says, cutting in smoothly. She looks good in her dress, and that’s saying a lot considering she doesn’t like dresses all that much. “Maria Carbonell has finances that she’s willing to use to ensure her son stays happy. It’ll cover it.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Unless you bet two million, yes.” 

Bucky’s eyes widen. 

“I’ll...not do that.” 

“Of course you won’t,” Sharon says. “Now, I’m going to borrow Steve here so I can have someone taste-test appetizers with me.” 

Steve waves a hand back as Bucky faces the stage, where a woman with a graceful smile gathers attention. 

Tony’s nowhere to be seen, most likely backstage. 

“Don’t we have a surprise on the table for you tonight!” The woman says. “Tony Carbonell has very generously offered up a date night with him to anyone interested...within reason.” 

Bucky nods at that. Smart. Didn’t want some creepy old person bidding. 

He can see Justin Hammer from here, looking too visibly excited. His spray tan looks stupid. 

Armed with financial courage and perhaps two or three glasses of strong liquor, Bucky starts the bidding war. 

Obviously, no one is happy when Bucky keeps climbing the bets higher. 

It surpasses seven thousand in five minutes. 

Bucky chimes in for twelve. 

Justin counters with fifteen. 

Bucky goes twenty. 

There’s silence. 

Twenty-one. 

Thirty thousand. 

Justin does not deign to go that high, throwing his number down in frustration. 

Tony’s eyes narrow in on Bucky, and he raises an eyebrow. 

Bucky shrugs in a “what can you do” motion and goes to the steps of the stage, holding out an arm to Tony. 

“Any plans for that date?” The woman says cheerily. 

“Something special,” Bucky responds glibly, barely able to hold back a laugh. 

Tony huffs as he grips tightly onto Bucky’s arm, pinching it. 

“I hope you know you’ve caused a right scene,” Tony says. “But thank you.” 

“I wouldn’t want spray tan all over my clothes, I doubted you wanted them on yours,” Bucky says. “Besides. I’m not planning an actual date night because you still owe me a stakeout night and pizza.” 

“How did this turn into me providing you with dinner?” 

“I paid so much money.” 

“None of it’s yours,” Tony sniffs. “Sharon told me.” 

“Of course she did,” Bucky scowls. 

“I’ll still get pizza, but I am wrangling a date night out of you. Have to see what you offer up to people,” Tony says. “And you better not do the whole ‘put my arm around you at the movies’ thing.” 

“I don’t,” Bucky says defensively, knowing damn well That’s Exactly What He Does. 

“Good,” Tony says. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to find Rhodey. I owe him a couple bucks, he guessed the wager right.” 

“How...?” 

“He’s smart like that,” Tony says. “See you later, Bucky.” 

Hate to see him leave, love to watch him go. 

That’s cheesy, but now Bucky understands. 

He is also faced with Pepper, who makes him promise that the date night will be good, go uninterrupted, and it isn’t a “work date.” 

“We’re not actually together,” Bucky grumbles. 

“The way you look at his ass says you want otherwise,” she sing-songs. “Go, talk with him. I’m pretty sure that if Reed notices he’s alone he’ll try to bore him to tears with string theory.” 

“I thought Tony liked that.” 

“Reed has a...special talent. He loves to make people fall asleep standing up.” 

Snorting, Bucky moves to walk closer. 

He’s doing a favor. (Not doing this because Tony’s genuinely interesting to talk to.) 

[ooohyou]

Submitted to r/nosleep by u/NemesisLuce

Please support the original author.

Don’t get me wrong, I love my job. Cute little bookstore in a quaint little town. I love helping customers find the right book for their mood. I love showing cute children’s books to curious kids. I love talking with sales reps and figuring out exactly which new releases to order from them.

I also fucking hate my job.

It was ten minutes past closing time, and I had my brightest, fakest smile on while trying to get the last customer out of my store. No sir, I cannot look up a book on the computer if all you know is the cover was red when you saw a poster for it 5 years ago. No sir, “I think it was about the cold war and a detective who drank too much but maybe it was something else” does not help me at all. Look sir, all my historical thrillers are on this shelf. Does anything ring a bell? No? Was it made into a movie? You don’t know? Oooookaaaay then, I’m sorry to inform you that we are already past closing time, here’s the store number, if you remember the title give us a call and we’ll order it for you if it’s still available. Thank you, good evening to you too sir, goodbye. Yes you have your umbrella, it’s right here in your hand sir. Okay bye bye.

I sighed and gave my cashier the biggest eyeroll I could manage before locking the door and turning over the sign that previously said ‘come in, we’re open!’. I heard the coins clanking in the coin counting machine (do these have a name? I don’t know. Coin counting machine is pretty self-explanatory and I’ve never bothered to check if they were actually called that), signifying that Alice had started to sort her cash drawer. I would only need to take out the profits of the day, make sure she had enough cash for tomorrow, and send her home. I went through the motions mechanically, only thinking about the nap I was about to have in the breakroom. It was going to be glorious. I really needed it if I wanted to be alert for the night shift.

Oh, yeah. We’ve got a night shift here. It’s my store’s most… peculiar aspect. We close at 6pm, but we open again at 11, up until 5am. Then we open again at 10am. So when I said ‘nap’ earlier, I actually meant the first half of my night, since I am working both shifts. Yes, I live in my store. Please buy books instead of reading stuff on the Internet, I would really love to be able to afford another employee.

So there I was, counting money fully on autopilot, daydreaming about drinking a nice cup of herbal tea and hugging my pillow, when Alice said something that ruined my plans.

“I forgot to tell you, something weird happened when you were on break.”

I snapped out of my daydream instantly and shot her a questioning glare.

“Yeah, this old lady came in, looking for something about fairy tales. I showed her the section but she didn’t want to have a look there apparently, and she asked me about something from the back. And I was like ‘do you think we’re hiding books from our customers or something’ so I just told her everything we had was on display in the store but we could order any book we didn’t have if she wanted. And she just shook her head and mumbled something and then she handed me this pamphlet and I was like ‘okay feel free to look around’ and didn’t even look at the pamphlet before shoving it in my pocket because a kid entered the store holding an open juice box and that was a disaster waiting to happen so yeah but that was weird right?”

She had actually run out of breath by the end of her sentence, and I wasn’t surprised. I was pissed though.

“Alice for FUCKS sake. Give me the pamphlet, don’t look at it. I’ll write that you were fired because of the store’s financial situation and give you a glowing recommendation.”

All color drained from the young girl’s face. I wasn’t mad at her, but I was still mad. She was supposed to know the rules. Hell, I even had her train the temps we hired to help around Christmas time. In retrospect, it was a miracle nothing bad had happened.

Okay, I was slightly mad at her. But I really didn’t want to be.

I saw in her eyes that it had finally clicked. She understood the gravity of what she had done, and handed me a crumpled pamphlet from her pocket, making sure to avert her gaze. God damn it. She had one momentary lapse, and it cost me a good cashier. Fucking hell.

“I’m sorry…” she started.

“It’s okay Alice, you didn’t mean to. You were alone on the floor, she was an old bat, it could’ve happened to anyone. You’ll be missed around here, but please don’t visit.”

She nodded. She finally remembered the rules, and she understood that there was no other way.

I put the cash drawer in the safe while she gathered the stuff she had left in the break room. I opened the back door to light a cigarette. She had tears in her eyes as she exited the store. I gave her a smile and clasped her hands in mine.

“You were a good employee, Alice. You’ll do great in a regular bookstore. Don’t doubt yourself and avoid this street for a few weeks. Call me if you run into any trouble, okay?”

“Thank you for the opportunity, boss. I really loved working here.”

“I know you did. Now hurry home. Don’t answer to anyone knocking on your door. Be safe.”

She nodded and scurried away, her backpack bouncing with her steps. I crammed my half-finished cigarette into the already-full-but-I-keep-forgetting-to-empty-it ashtray and went back inside.

The pamphlet was sitting on top of the safe, and as I grabbed it I felt the urge to read it. Nope. In the bin you go. I was accustomed to those old tricks. First rule of working with my clientele is to know when you can’t trust your instincts because something’s fucking with them. Second rule is to trust your instincts. Confusing? Welcome to my life.

So I ended up sitting at my desk typing furiously on my computer instead of napping. I still had a few hours until night shift, but I absolutely had to start interviewing prospective employees in the next couple days – in the meantime I just had to hope one of my part-time employees would like to work a few extra hours. I just have too much work to spend all my time manning the register and keeping the tables neat. While the store isn’t that big, it still is a lot for one person.

I obviously had to update the employee rulebook as well. Just emphasize that you can’t take chances with crazy old people. You never know if they’re truly crazy or something else.

“Never accept anything a customer hands you directly if it’s not (real) money. If they’re promoting something, make them leave any cards, pamphlets, posters at the register. If you end up accepting whatever they gave you, don’t look at it, and come to me immediately.”

Yes, it’s weird. I know it’s weird. Look, I pay my employees a fair enough wage that they make sure to follow the rules. I don’t care if they think I’m crazy. I probably am. It doesn’t matter.

I pressed enter and added:

“If a customer asks if they can see what we have in the back, politely decline and offer them to order whatever book they need. If they persist, come get me.”

God damn it, Alice actually handled this part well. But she grabbed the pamphlet, and I had to protect her.

I don’t write the rules to make my employees better workers. I write them to make sure they survive. The main reason any infraction is cause for termination is that, well, it could be the cause for the actual termination of their existence on Earth. Getting fired from a job is a way better alternative.

Alice accepted the old lady’s pamphlet. It could’ve been anything else. A tissue, a cigarette, a glass of water. She unknowingly made a bargain with whatever the woman was. ‘I gave you something, now I’m free to take something’. Entities like the old lady abide by archaic rules. In a store, this is what applies. I lost a regular day customer that way. The poor lady was watching over her kid, who was merrily making a mess looking through the 3-5 years old section, when a young girl came up to her. “Look miss, look I made a drawing”, she said. My customer grabbed the piece of paper and the girl ran off. A couple days later, posters popped up everywhere in town for a missing toddler.

I was obviously pissed. I’d been waiting to see that little girl again and tell her that business rules applied only between merchant and customers and she had no right to force an innocent, unaware person into a contract. My night clientele is well aware of that, and treasure having a place to find literature enough to not risk jeopardizing the fragile balance between both worlds. Nonhumans can be facetious little shits though, and I’ve never seen that girl again. Some entities enjoy chaos just for the sake of it. This one just danced around the rules, grabbed what she wanted, and ruined two lives. My customer sank into a deep depression and ended up gouging her eyes out during a manic episode. Her toddler was never found, but I don’t think he will grow up to be a respectable, human adult.

I checked the time and decided I could get 2 hours of sleep before having to get the store ready for night shift. So obviously I went to check out who – or what – was knocking on the glass window near the entrance because who needs sleep anyway.

It was an old lady, her wrinkled bloated nose pressed against the glass, her skeletal fingers tapping against it in a rhythmical fashion that was getting on my nerves. She had piercing, blood-injected eyes that were fixed on me and a grin so large it couldn’t possibly be natural.

I didn’t have time to be scared, but I still felt the fear creeping up on my stomach, slowly making its way through my body. No matter how hard I tried to reject it, I couldn’t. Stupid human nature. I adorned my best customer service smile and walked up to the old lady.

“My apologies, you seem to be a bit early. We will be open for business at eleven.”

I didn’t need to yell. I knew she could hear me clearly in spite of the glass separating us.

One… two… three taps on the window. Her already impossibly wide grin grew even wider, revealing rotten teeth sticking out of black, putrid gums. Thick, yellowish saliva was dripping down in strands from her non-existent lips. By the time the corners of her mouth reached her temples, I was sure I would lose my fake confidence and run in the opposite direction. No matter how many times you deal with unnatural entities, being mere centimeters away from a nightmarish mouth full of rot and decay will shake you to your core. I tried to breathe calmly, being secretly thankful for the glass that separated me from what was probably the foulest smell I’d ever submitted my nose to, hoping the old lady would see me standing my ground and respect the rules of business. I could deal with her inside my bookstore, where she would be a customer. I just needed to stay brave and meet her transfixed, unwavering gaze. Her eyes were more blood vessels than pupils, and I found myself focusing on those instead of whatever was moving in her mouth. I did not want to see her tongue, not after seeing the state of her teeth. And I sure as hell did not want to see whatever I clearly caught moving around her mouth if it wasn’t her tongue. No, her eyes were scary but I could deal with them, no matter how unsettling it was to see them bulge in and out of her head in a slow motion, almost as if they were breathing. The glass became foggier and foggier on her side due to her heavy, animalistic panting, but I kept my gaze straight, only catching glimpses of fog and movement in my peripheral visions. If I were to treat her like an animal, I needed to assert myself as the alpha. I don’t yield to rude, entitled customers, and I wouldn’t yield to rude, entitled nonhumans breaching the unspoken contract that allowed them to enjoy my store.

After what felt like forever, she stopped tapping on the window. Her grin reverted back to a normal, almost friendly smile. She blinked, soggy wrinkled eyelids covering those eyes I had stared at for far too long.

“I guess I’ll see you when you’re open, then”. In spite of the glass panel separating us, I felt her putrid breath against my ear as she whispered her parting words.

Just like that, she turned and left.

Understandably, I was not looking forward to seeing her during the night shift. My regular customers were unsettling enough, I did not want to add the batshit-insane-nightmarish-grandma to the list.

I’m a business owner. The customer may not be always right, but they are always my priority. I will have to open tonight, because while some may not consider books to be a necessity, I guarantee you that it is vital not only for my business, but for some of my night customers that I open every night. I complain about my life a lot, but some of them face issues they can’t simply look up on the internet nor ask a friend or even a therapist. They may urgently need something from the night inventory, and I will do my best to provide it for them. I’ve always loved being a bookseller, but helping nonhumans find whatever fits their very specific needs has given me a sense of purpose I’m not ready to give up just yet.

I will open tonight. And I will protect my business and its rules, to ensure that I can open tomorrow night.

(Note: edited some words to fit in with the location LOL)

[szivtalan]

1, 2, 3, 4, 19, 26, 32, 34, 36, 38, 41, 43, 44, 47, 53, 54, 69, 72, 80, 83, 84, 92, 105, 107, 112, 113, 115, 118, 132, 135, 136, 137 for the ask some question thing please?

Oh shit this will be so long and I can't put a line break anywhere yells I'm Sorry

1) 3 Fears

- living at my hometown/country for my entire life and not seeing nor experiencing the rest of the world at all

- not making any impact on this world, leaving it as I found it

- needles

2) 3 things I love

- friends, my brother

- laying down on the ground on a sunny day and staring up at the sky, watching the clouds roll by

- dogs

3) 2 turn ons

- someone making an effort to talk to me and basically letting me know they think about me

- I think homiro said gentleness and I agree yeah, being kind-hearted and soft spoken and attentive to people around you,,,,, Yeah that shit good

4) 2 turn offs

- people feeling the need to express superiority over others at any given moment

- general intolerance

19) How I feel right now

Kind of really sad.... Annoyed that I can't sleep, a whole lot anxious about things, worried about the ringing in my ears being back

26) The reasons I joined Tumblr

I genuinely cannot remember, maybe it was to look at inumog doujinshis in my Shizaya days

32) Do I like my music loud or at a reasonable level?

Depends, low when I need to focus on something else, loud when I want to just let it get to me and dissociate

34) Am I excited for anything?

My binder!!! I want That,,, also, the things I ordered for me and a friend, my date tomorrow, meeting my friends on Tuesday (maybe), and on a long-term, I think starting school again, moving out and maybe traveling a lil.

36) How often do I wear a fake smile?

I think I do it a lot, especially if I'm not getting something or just want to be nice. Honey I work in customer service, being nice is part of my contract

38) What do I think about most?

If I made/am making the right choices.

41) Do I perfer talking on the phone or video chatting online?

I think video chatting is nicer bc u don't just hear people, you can also see their faces and therefore interpret their words better

43) Do I believe in magic?

No fam

44) Do I believe in luck?

Uhhh I don't think so? I just think things have consequences and everything is interconnected. I believe in happy coincidences.

47) Do I have any nicknames?

Vicki, Vic, Viku, Vee, Vitya, Shinai (notice how one of these doesn't fit w the rest) and yeah I guess Vamos

53) What's my favorite word?

Maybe szerelmeskedés (it's hungarian for lovemaking, but we have two words for love: 'szeretet' which is more on the platonic side, and 'szerelem' which contains the infatuated aspect of it. The stem "love" in this word is based on the latter, whereas the more common 'szeretkezés' has the first sort of love in it)

54) My top 5 blogs on Tumblr

JUST FIVE? Ah fuck @homiro @kuwoko @transbucky @incorrectbballboys @takao-au-lait

69) Gotten my heart broken?

Several times. You know, you'd think once you get through the first couple of heartbreaks you stop hoping and harden your heart, but mine's still plenty delicate and I just...keep getting my hopes up all the time.

72) Learned another language?

Yeah I mean adgj I've been learning English for over 14 years (give or take), learned some German in first grade and high school, Latin for 4 years and French for one and a half. I also tried Russian and Swedish in duolingo but it's just not the same u know

80) What do I want for birthday?

My friends to be happy and safe.

83) Have I ever got caught sneaking out or doing anything bad?

Mmm one time we as a class got caught drinking hard liquor, we were like 14 and some of us were seriously sloshed. Like near alcohol poisoning. We were all scolded harshly lol, but as an individual I think I've evaded being caught with shit so far. Which is incredible. I did so much stupid shit

84) What I'm really bad at

I suuuck at playing the guitar. My hearing's kinda wonky anyway, so I don't even actually know if my singing voice's nice or not, but I cannot carry a tune on guitar for dear life. I've been trying to learn this song, and it's a total of 4 chords, and the progress is terrible

92) What kind of people are you attracted to?

Sweet people who turn out to be sort of damaged, uh. Tall dudes with kind smiles and ropey muscles, and every girl ever probably. I can't really explain, looking back on my dating/crushing history, I do have a range dang

105) What do you do when you wake up?

Ideally, I lay in bed for a few more hours, have some adult fun time by myself, go out of my room, get washed up, make coffee, eat breakfast, get dressed. When I don't have time to do all this, I get half-dressed, eat, wash up, and dress up the rest of the way.

107) Do you ever want to get married?

....ha. As a child of divorce, I don't exactly believe in the sanctity of marriage, but like dude, who knows what will I think when I get there with a partner.

112) Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance?

Some do, when there's willingness to change and grow. But it's better to be wary if you do grant them second chances, because they might go down the same path unconsciously - sometimes it's just all they know, you know?

113) Do you smile at strangers?

Yeah, at everyone who seems nice to me. Shit, I do fake-smile a lot.

115) Ever wished you were someone else?

Only pfff all the time?

118) Ever won a competition? For what?

I don't think I have, but we did get a gold medal with our drama club at senior year of high school at a big nationwide event. I mean, we weren't the only one with a gold, it didn't exactly mean first place, but it was stil very cool!!

132) Do you type fast?

I think so, yes? One time my brother's best friend asked me about how fast I typed so I opened a new Facebook post and typed "[his name] is a butthole that's how fast" and he laughed sgfjd

135) Have you ever liked someone so much it hurt?

*aggressively sighs* YEAh a lot of folks okay!! I'm sensitive and I feel a lot

136) Is cheating ever okay?

No. It isn't.

137) Do you believe in true love?

I mean, I want to, but I think my ability to fall for someone in a matter of seconds kind of cheapens the whole love thing for me. I believe it exists, and that it's out there, but knowing it is and believing that I won't really experience it makes me really sad.

[galadrieljones]

The Lily Farm - Chapter 34

AO3 | Masterpost

Rating: M (Mature) - sexual content, violence, and adult themes

Summary: To help her process Sean’s death, Mary Beth asks Arthur to take her on a hunting trip, somewhere far away. He agrees, and on their journey to the north, they find quietude and take comfort in their easy bond. They’ve been friends for a while now, but life, like the wilderness, is full of uncertainty and complications, and as they embark on their desperate search for meaning together, they endure many trials, some small, some big—all of which bring them closer to one another, and to their future.

Chapter 34: Safety and Other Dreams

Mary Beth stood at the window in their room at the B&B, looking out at all the possibilities. She’d gotten a little tired and left the party without telling anyone but Abigail. Arthur had been talking to Hosea and looked happy. She was certain that it was just because the day had been long, her feeling tired. In truth, though, she was very ready for things to go back to normal. For once, she found herself almost wanting to return to Shady Belle. She knew that was backwards, but it was how home had manifested itself in her mind. The place where everybody was, and where everything was the same. Like an anchor that she hated, but an anchor nonetheless. Mary Beth had lived a life that was always changing. She was in a constant scramble for the thing that never wavered. As she looked out the window at the long, blue lawn, she realized that home was for now a traveling suitcase, and despite this, she did not have to worry. Because she was not alone. She was comforted by the little life taking up residence inside her, and for Arthur. She had begun to feel mixed up by what it would mean to leave the gang that loved her, but it was gonna be okay. She took a deep breath. She heard the door open behind her, and she looked back and there he was.

“Hey there,” he said. He came into the room.

She turned all the way around and leaned against the windowsill and smiled when she saw him. He closed the door, took off his shiny coat from Dutch and tossed it over the brass bed post. Underneath was just him in his white dress shirt, which was still tucked in but a little rumpled and a pair of light leather suspenders wearing thin. He was his big warm self, unchanged, and familiar to her. For the jacket was lovely, she thought, but it was very flashy, and that was not him. His hair was long by now, down to his shoulders, and she had hardly noticed before this moment. He looked windswept and soft with the liquor but just a little. He took off his gloves and set them on the bed.

"You snuck away,” he said.

“I was just tired,” said Mary Beth. “And you and Hosea was talking—I didn’t want to disturb. I snuck away.”

He was smiling. He came over to her at the window and took her right into his arms. He sighed big and huge all around her. She was so relieved now and all the things that had worried her at the window had gone. “Let’s just be in love and go to sleep,” said Arthur, a little cheeky. “What do you think, Mrs. Morgan?”

She blushed. “You like my dress, Mr. Morgan?”

“I do,” he said, getting a look at her. “Abigail and Lizette did a very good job. You look beautiful.”

She grabbed his face then and kissed him good. She had changed course and was suddenly far too happy for sleeping now. It took him by surprise but as usual he gave in to her.

“You have made an honest man out of an outlaw, Mary Beth,” he said, undoing her braid, piece by piece. “I am not sure how I can properly thank you.”

“I can think of some ways,” she said.

She was very glad to have married her best friend.

Meanwhile, downstairs, the party was winding down. John and Hosea were sitting at the kitchen table with Abigail, playing hearts, and Hamish had dozed off on an arm chair in the corner next to the piano. The Reverend and the Mother Superior, as well as Jack, had retired to sleep an hour before, and Lizette was sweeping up and dusting and watering the plants, wearing one of her pretty French aprons with the bobbin lace that she had brought from Nice. Abigail tried multiple times to offer her assistance in cleaning up, but Lizette would have nothing of it.

Out on the porch, Dutch had taken up with his cigar, surveying. It was so dark out here, like being back in Wyoming. He had spent a lot of his life living everywhere, and trying to forget some places, but never Wyoming. Wyoming was where he had found Arthur, when Arthur had been just some long-haired blot-on-the-town teenager, playing cards in the back of a smoky Jackson tavern, caught with two aces up his sleeve and about twenty seconds from being beaten to death by a mining foreman named Spud. It was where he had picked up Susan. She had been a saloon girl in Casper, looking like some sort of washed up beauty queen, offering herself for a price that he found to be unsuitable. She knew how to work Dutch from the moment they met, and he did not buy her—was not prone to buying women, as he preferred that they desire him in return, and so he brought her home, and he protected her. She groomed up young Arthur and taught him how to sit straight, how to appear upstanding and how to use his natural gentlemanly demeanor to charm people into giving him the things that he wanted. Montana had been the death of Eliza and Colorado had been Annabelle. Bessie was Texas. Those states were all dead to Dutch. But nobody had died in Wyoming. Only love had been found. He longed to return but the journey west had been corrupted at some point. He was trying to remember why. He knew that he was losing everything and everybody dear to him, but he just kept fucking up anyway as if losing was his new normal.

“A fine evening, isn’t it?” said Lawrence Winterson. He came out onto the porch with his pipe, looking for quiet. The pipe had already been packed and lit. On instinct, Dutch nodded in an upstanding fashion. He knew how to act and seem better than other people. It was how he'd been born.

"Absolutely," said Dutch. "Join me, won't you?"

They smoked for a while, staring out at the reverie. Sometimes, you could see one of the hounds, come up to sniff the grass and then disappear back into the tree line. The world was filled with the sounds of deer and loons and coyotes and then the deep silence of the lonely back country that was the east Heartlands. At some point, Dutch cleared his throat. He turned to Lawrence, keeping his respectful posture, but in truth, he was highly suspicious and had been since the moment he arrived. “I would like to thank you, kind friend,” he said, “for hosting this gathering, and for extending your welcome and your home to us. Most of all, for taking in Arthur like this, especially despite what he is.”

Lawrence looked at Dutch, blinking from behind his spectacles. They gave him the look of a scholar, most certainly the doctor that he was. “What he is? You mean, an outlaw?"

Dutch laughed to himself, studying his cigar. “That is what I mean, yes. We ain't used to mixing in, you know, with civilized folk. The few times we have, we've ended up burned, or knee-deep in shit."

“Oh,” said Lawrence, wising up. He adjusted his glasses, looking back out to the lawn. “Yes. Well, I'm not sure what you consider civilized. I run a legal business, yes, but I have, at times, entertained customers who may or may not run completely in line with the law. I am neither stupid nor one to cast idle judgment, Mr. van der Linde. This is, after all, the Heartlands. We still tend to walk a rather fine line here. I'm sure you've been to Valentine. You know what I mean. And in any case, whether you're a noble banker in St. Denis or a country doctor who boards outlaws and provides the occasional safe haven for prostitutes and runaways, we're all sinners."

"Is that right?"

"It is."

Dutch took a deep breath. He puffed off the cigar, blew a single smoke ring into the air. "You say you regularly board outlaws and prostitutes, runaways, Mr. Winterson?"

"Regularly? No," said Lawrence, smiling. "But I have not been known to turn away people in need, regardless of their means at birth or social standing."

"That's very noble of you," said Dutch. "And a doctor to boot. You are, indeed, a role model, Mr. Winterson."

Lawrence chucked at this. He ran a hand through his hair, light and graying. He went up to the porch railing and leaned against it on his forearms. "I see we are playing a game," he said, glancing back at Dutch. "I am not one to beat around the bush. You can trust me, Mr. van der Linde."

"How do I know that?" said Dutch, taking a step toward him. His boots were heavy, and his spurs rang like bells. He smoked. He lowered his voice. "I've got a price on my head, Mr. Winterson. As does everybody here. Save for the holy people, of course, Mr. Sinclair I expect, and little Jack. Even Mary Beth and Abigail, they're wanted somewhere. Arthur may be the strong, silent, and trusting type, but I, sir, am not. This is my family, and I am trying to get them to safety. I cannot afford to entertain the untrustworthy."

Lawrence sighed. He nodded, looking back at to the yard. "That is understandable," he said. "After all, I heard you are a great shepherd. John and Arthur both speak highly of you. It's true that I know who you are. That I recognized your name from the New Hanover Gazette immediately. But I must assure you, this is about Arthur. My wife and I care for him and Mary Beth. We truly do. We would never betray their trust. Ever."

"And I am supposed to just take you at your word?" said Dutch.

"No," said Lawrence. "But, it's all I've got, if you'll hear me out. Arthur mentioned to me that your father was in the Army of the Potomac. That he died in Gettysburg. Is that true?"

Dutch studied him closely. "It is."

"I was in the Army of the Potomac," said Lawrence, looking at him. "I was a surgeon, but I killed dozens of men when they broke our position and stormed our tents on Cemetery Hill. There were also men I could not save who I anesthetized into death. I could have fought beside your father. I could have watched him die, treated him, and I wouldn't have even known. There were thousands of us. I was one of the lucky ones. But I do know that whenever I come across another survivor like myself, like Mr. Sinclair for example, I am driven to loyalty. Your father died for a cause that I, too, would have died for. I don't care what you've done. Mr. van der Linde. I am not a moral paragon. I know what Arthur is capable of. I even know about Mary Beth. As long as we're square, you and me, I would never betray you or your people. Not for anything. Do you understand?"

Dutch's cigar had gone cold. He looked down, gave it up, tossed it over the porch railing and into the weeds. He hooks his thumbs over his belt, looked at his boots. "Yes, sir. I believe I do."

"Good," said Lawrence. "Because as I said before, I do care about Arthur. He came to us sort of like a bird with a broken wing. We never had children of our own. It's easy to get attached. Do you have any children of your own, Mr. van der Linde?"

Dutch gave him a stern look, but in the old man's eyes, he got lost and felt broken and for a moment understood why Arthur came here. “No," he said, unsure of why he was confessing such things, but he was. "I had a woman once. She was having my baby, but she died. That was it for me."

This seemed to sadden Lawrence considerably. He straightened up off the railing and placed his hands in his pockets, turning to Dutch, full of body language that communicated his sincerest condolences. "That is a terrible albatross," he said. "I am sorry, Mr. van der Linde."

Dutch said nothing. He felt a deep pressure building inside of him. It was like rage, but it wasn't. "Thank you."

"Anyway," said Lawrence, sort of smiling. He had an unfailing focus. "I should turn in. I hope we can part tomorrow with an understanding between us. You're safe here."

Dutch nodded, looking away. "Yes," he said. "I think we're square, Mr. Winterson." They shook hands.

Lawrence turned to go inside then. He clasped Dutch on the shoulder, lightly. "I should go check on our guest," he said. "The one not here for the wedding."

"You do that," said Dutch.

Lawrence was gone.

They rode back to Shady Belle in shifts. Dutch went first, then Hosea with John and Abigail the next day. Hamish stayed. The Reverend and the Mother Superior took the train. Arthur and Mary Beth waited until everybody was gone, enjoyed a couple of quiet days with the Wintersons and Hamish in the Heartlands. They went back three days after the wedding, rode straight to Shady Belle, stopping only once to rest. When they arrived, it was evening. Miss Grimshaw and Mr. Pearson had prepared the camp with booze and colorful streamers and music. Everybody was happy and using the occasion as an excuse to get wildly drunk and sit around the fire singing and laughing and confessing to one another their deepest, darkest fears and desires. They congratulated Arthur and Mary Beth. There were no fights. Micah wasn't there. Even the gators stayed away that night. Arthur and Mary Beth were thankful, but they really were not wanting for much. By the mid-evening, when the sun had gone down and the frogs and crickets came out, Susan could tell, and so she corralled them both, took them upstairs to Arthur’s room where she had prepared for them a small but important surprise.

“We rustled you up a bigger bed,” she said, showing them how she and the girls had fixed up the room a little bit, cleaned and brought up Mary Beth’s chest of clothes and all of her earthly possessions. “We thought you might be appreciative, as that thing you were sleeping on before, Mr. Morgan, weren’t room enough for the damn dog let alone a married man and woman. So there you go.”

It was so soft of Miss Grimshaw, sweet, almost enough to reduce Mary Beth’s unfailing fear that she may skin her alive. They were thankful. Tilly had also painted a picture of a flower garden for them, using pigment paints she had bought in St. Denis. It was clumsy but made beautiful use of color and light. “I thought it could be like a window,” she said. “Make it seem like you’re looking out at something more romantic than the swamps for a change.”

“It’s so pretty,” said Mary Beth, picking the unframed canvas up off the windowsill. “You should do more of these, Till. You could sell them in town for a good price.”

Tilly waved her off. “Do you know how hard that was? I ain’t doing that for anyone I don’t love as much as you two. Now, enjoy.”

They were overcome. They shut in very early that night. For they had an excuse to do so.

The next morning, Mary Beth slept in. Arthur went to find coffee, and then he went and sat down next to Sadie on the porch to drink it. She had been up for hours, it seemed, and was cleaning her guns, wearing her hat, as usual.

“Mrs. Adler,” said Arthur. “How are you today.”

“Hey, Arthur,” she said, smiling. “I should be asking you the same thing.”

“I am fine. Thank you.”

“Well, congratulations,” said Sadie. “We didn't have much chance to talk last night. But I’m—I’m happy for you. It’s a blessing, what you got. Don't fuck it up.”

Arthur smiled, then looked upon her seriously. She seemed very tired and alone. He sought to change the subject. “I heard you and Charles been out on some recreational errands involving O’Driscolls,” he said, sipping his coffee. “Is that right?”

She laughed to herself, sarcastically. “I guess you could call it that. Errands.”

“How many you killed.”

“Dozens,” she said. “Maybe more, just in the past two weeks alone. Since Colm got his, they been turning up in all corners. Last we found them they’d been holed up in the Roanoke Valley. Nothing but cannibals and monsters up there. A few less now. We got em good.”

Arthur looked out at the camp. Jack was walking around with John, talking about something, gesticulating with his hands and holding a book. John seemed to be listening very closely, though he looked a trifle confused as to what the hell Jack was saying. Arthur smiled to see it. “Well I hope you’re being careful,” he said. “And I hope you’re laying off Kieran. You know he could’ve turned us in back at Lone Mule, but he didn't. He was tortured, and yet he stayed quiet. That means something.”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Sadie. “I know. A woman can learn.”

“Yes, she can.”

“Charles don’t make mistakes,” she said, looking up at Arthur. “He’s like you. He’s a good partner. But I trust you won’t be coming with us anytime soon, daddy.”

Arthur was amused by this. “Nope. No O'Driscoll hunting for me. I’ve had my ass handed to me by that lot more than once. I have officially retired from the business of blood feuds. You give them my best though, won’t you?”

“If your best is a bullet to the head, then I sure will.”

Arthur laughed. He finished his coffee.

“So how does it feel?” said Sadie. “Being married.”

“You would know,” said Arthur. “How did you feel, when you got married?”

She stared at him, a mixture of emptiness and pain, but also surprise. She seemed happy that somebody was thinking of it, remembering what she had been before, not walking on eggshells for once. “I felt safe,” she said, nodding, setting the gun down on her lap. “For the first time in my whole life.”

Arthur nodded in solidarity. “Yeah, me, too,” he said. He patted her on the shoulder and got up to leave. “Well, I best be getting on.”

"Okay, Arthur."

He got up, dusted off his jeans. It was in the moment that he was beckoned by Hosea from the doorway.

"Arthur,” he said, holding a rolled up newspaper, seeming rushed.

"What is it?"

“Can we talk?” he said. “Upstairs on the balcony. As soon as you're able.”

Arthur nodded. Hosea greeted Sadie then went inside.

“What’s that all about?” said Sadie.

Arthur took a cigarette from his front pocket, still staring at the door. He lit it and smoked. “I’m not sure,” he said. “But I can guess."

"Care to share?"

"Maybe later. See you, Mrs. Adler.”

“It’s just Sadie,” she said, smiling. “You don’t have to call me that no more. We’s friends.”

Arthur nodded. “Okay, Sadie. You have a good day now. And no dying. You hear?”

“I ain’t afraid of dying.”

“Yeah,” said Arthur, smoking. “I know you ain’t. But we need you here.”

This baffled her.

Upstairs, Arthur found Hosea leaning on the bannister, looking down at the bounty of hungover outlaws and all of his happy children. He coughed once when Arthur arrived, turned around and placed his hands in his pockets. “Good morning, Arthur,” he said. “How are you feeling today.”

“About the same as any other day,” said Arthur. “Except I no longer sleep alone, by law.”

Hosea found this amusing. “A humble outlook. That’s good. Being a husband suits you, Arthur. I always thought it would.”

“Well, I'll take that as a compliment, coming from you,” said Arthur. “Now what’s this about?”

“It’s about that poker game, on the river boat,” said Hosea. “You remember we talked about this, some weeks back?”

Arthur sighed. He’d had a feeling. “I do,” he said. He released a bit of smoke from his lungs and then walked out to the balcony and looked down at all the water and the muck and the trees. “What’s the story.”

“Well, we’ve got a development,” said Hosea.

“And?"

"And you’re in,” he said. “Josiah secured you an invitation.”

“It’s just poker?” said Arthur. “If it’s just poker, I can do poker.”

“Indeed. Count the cards at your discretion. I’d advise against sleight of hand, though. You can’t get caught doing math in your head, but you can get caught with an ace up your sleeve.”

Arthur nodded. “Yeah, okay.”

“There’s a catch,” said Hosea.

Arthur gave him a look, leaned into the balcony, feeling undue annoyance. “What kind of catch.”

"A stipulation of sorts. You have to bring Mary Beth.”

“What?”

“The invitation was extended by Angelo Bronte,” said Hosea. “You have to be Tacitus Kilgore and his wife Marie. It’s both of you, or neither. That’s the only way you’re getting in.”

Arthur just stared at him. He caught himself almost laughing at this, for the situation seemed to fly up and out of his control in an instant. “You’re goddam serious.”

“Yes, I am. She won’t be the only woman there,” said Hosea. “I’ve looked into it. There’s a whole salon of wives and mistresses who accompany their men to these sorts of things. Of course they don’t take part in the gambling. That would be uncouth. They drink and mingle elegantly in an adjacent ballroom. It’s all very aristocratic, I assure you.”

“You’re out of your damn mind, Hosea.”

“I know it sounds that way, but the take will be big, Arthur. I’ve got Dutch against the ropes on leaving the south. We get a couple more big takes, we can be out of here for good. We can go north, and you and Mary Beth, John and Abbie can finally get the hell out of here, live your lives.”

“North?” said Arthur. “What the hell happened to Tahiti?”

“That’s in the wind,” said Hosea. “I told you. I been working on Dutch. He’s listening.”

“And this don’t seem at all suspicious to you,” said Arthur. “Angelo Bronte inviting me, a known outlaw, and my new wife to play cards on a riverboat. You don’t think that sounds like a trap?”

“Of course I do,” said Hosea, wiping his forehead with a red handkerchief. “And though I don’t think it is a trap, the remote possibility that it could be is exactly why, Arthur, I have some work-arounds I want to discuss with you."

"Work-arounds?" said Arthur. "Such as."

"Changing the location, for example," said Hosea. He took out a cigarette. Arthur lit it for him out of habit. He smoked. "To ensure we can control what goes down. And I’ve got some...guarantees we can utilize, involving a few Texas Rangers I know, traveling in the area."

“Texas Rangers?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Hold on,” said Arthur. He leaned in, lowered his voice, trying hard not to get angry at the old man. “Before you go on any further, Hosea, about guarantees and work-arounds and so forth, what on god’s green earth makes you think I’d even consider this. Mary Beth is pregnant.”

“I know.”

“Then you know my feelings about bringing her on jobs.”

“I do,” said Hosea. “And Dutch warned me on the matter. I just thought maybe I could convince you otherwise this time.”

“You. You’re trying to convince me otherwise?”

“Yes.”

Arthur shook his head out. He was almost laughing. It was flipping him upside-down.

“Arthur, just hear me out," said Hosea. "I would never willingly put you or Mary Beth in danger.”

“I won’t do it. I won’t take her.”

“You won’t take me where?” said Mary Beth. She was standing in the doorway, dressed for the day with her hair braided to one side. She was a mild sight, holding a book in one hand and an empty basket in the other.

“Mary Beth,” said Arthur.

“Hi,” she said, looking concerned. She came into the room. “What are you two talking about?”

Arthur took a deep breath. He lowered his eyes. Hosea smiled and straightened up, putting on his best show. “I’ll let you two discuss,” he said. He greeted Mary Beth and then bid them both farewell on his way out the door, still smoking. He coughed some. They listened to his footsteps on the stairs as he went away.

Arthur had both of his hands in his pockets now. He was staring down at the floor, shaking his head.

“Arthur?” said Mary Beth. “What’s going on?”

He glanced up at her. She was pretty there, put together for the day in her usual manner. He had wanted to take her away, not bring her back. But here he was again, going in circles, never realizing until it was too late. And he knew what she was gonna say.

“Is this about the river boat?” she said.

He nodded. “Yes."

He was clenching his jaw, his head hurting. He tried to imagine what their honeymoon would have been like in another life where they were both not accustomed to living so recklessly.

[eeveelutionsforequality]

actingnt said: "@[redacted] a tulpa is a a purposeful creation within a tulpamancer’s mind. It can mean anything from a single-purpose drone to a whole person. Traumascum is truscum for multiplicity: People who accuse others of faking on the basis that they haven’t suffered enough to earn their multiplicity."

I found this while in the actuallytraumagenic tag. This person has us blocked apparently, hence why I'm responding to a screenshot. Here's the original post: https://actingnt.tumblr.com/post/184864792553/tulpa-systems-and-spiritual-systems-are-just

Firstly, how is that at all racist? Claiming to have alters without having the necessary causal factor isn't a race, it's a claim, and disagreeing with that claim isn't singling any race out or discriminating against any race, it's disagreeing with a claim. If you're claiming that disagreeing with somebody's spirituality is racism, then you're wrong - spiritual beliefs are not a race, they can have cultural significance but disagreeing with somebody's beliefs does not make you racist. You, by definition, must disagree with the vast majority of spiritual beliefs because most of them contradict each other massively - racism would be to disagree because the belief is held by a particular race, and not to disagree based on contradictory evidence or contradictory beliefs. Spiritual claims can be as factually incorrect as any other, and when you're claiming to have a medical condition that you couldn't possibly have then you don't get to hide behind "it's magic" to avoid criticism. I couldn't say "I have appendicitis" and when all the tests come back negative respond with "actually I believe that I have appendicitis for spiritual reasons" - if you don't have something then you don't have it, no matter how hard you believe.

Secondly, dissociative identity disorder is a medical condition, it has a necessary causal factor - being the victim of abuse or other prolonged/repeated trauma at a very young age. You can't have PTSD without trauma, and you can't have other disorders that are caused by trauma without trauma, that's what causes them, that's how they work. It's not whether you've "suffered enough to earn" it - it's whether you've experienced the thing that causes the disorder (plus "earn", really? it's a disorder not a trophy). When your doctor refuses to give you stitches for a wound that you don't have, they're not saying that you "haven't suffered enough to earn" stitches, they're saying that you don't have a wound and thus don't need stitches. Nobody's saying this because of some suffering elitism, they're saying it because if you don't have the causal factor then you don't have the medical condition that it causes. They're saying it because the people who are claiming to have our disorder without actually having it are spreading masses of harmful misinformation, misrepresenting the disorder, and actually hurting people (see the legions of assholes who faked having DID, invented "system-hopping" and other lies, and used those things to abuse others). People don't want to be misrepresented, lied about, and abused by people who are pretending to have a medical condition that they couldn't possibly have. It's ableism to go around pretending to have a condition that you don't have and negatively affecting sufferers of the condition and the reputation of the condition in the process.

Tulpas are the claim that one can create alters consciously and of your own volition - there is no evidence of this, and even people with DID can't create alters consciously, you can't design and build a custom alter. Alters are created subconsciously and come as they come, it's not build-a-bear. If you're claiming the ability to create alters without trauma, that's a claim of being endogenic (which simply means, in this context, a claim of having alters without trauma... in other contexts it means formed or occurring beneath the surface of the earth, fun fact), and it's misrepresenting what the condition is and how it works to the detriment of sufferers (imagine getting asked "Why don't you just make an alter who can do that?" when you're facing a struggle, because people genuinely think you could just magically craft an alter for the occasion... that shit happens because of the lies of "tulpamancers"). If you claim to have alters for "spiritual reasons" and not as a result of trauma then you're again making a claim of being endogenic (whether or not you actually have alters depends - some people claim to be endogenic but actually have trauma and alters caused by that trauma, they simply deny the causal link, some mistake another symptom or condition for DID, while others are total frauds who are well aware that they're conning people for their own gain or amusement), and again misrepresenting the disorder (implying it's a casual belief system that entails belief in souls and other things, and not a medical condition that causes difficulty for masses of people). That's just factually what you're claiming when you say those things, you're claiming an endogenic cause, and there is no evidence to support any of that, and there is evidence to the contrary - trauma has been isolated to be necessary to cause DID, OSDD-1a, and OSDD-1b (the conditions that can cause alters), and some of the mechanisms and neurological reasons for that have been and are being isolated too.

Calling people "traumascum" is fucked up. You're literally mocking people for having experienced horrible, prolonged, repeated childhood trauma that scarred them for life. Like, I cannot understand how you woke up one morning and thought that calling people who'd suffered severe abuse as children "traumascum" was a good idea. I literally cannot fathom the levels of either stupidity or maliciousness that are present within your skull. Additionally, you put this post in the "actuallytraumagenic" tag/search, the place that people go into to talk about their trauma and their experiences with this medical condition - that's how I found it. You're a shimmering example of why the ideology that DID isn't a medical condition, that anybody who wishes hard enough can create alters, is harmful - it's literally gotten you to a point where you think that it's okay to go into a safe space for survivors and call us "traumascum". I don't know if you've dehumanized them in your mind, if you simply don't care about their feelings, or if you've another reason to want to hurt and trigger people you don't even know, based solely on the fact that they don't want people to misrepresent the medical condition that they have - whatever it is, mocking people's trauma is way out of line.

"Truscum" (transmedicalists) believe that having gender dysphoria is necessary to be trans. They believe that it's a medical condition with medical treatment that needs to remain medical, not cosmetic, in order to allow people with this medical condition to access that medical treatment. Gender dysphoria doesn't mean "hating yourself", it isn't a quantifiable amount of suffering (because suffering isn't quantifiable - your whole "they think you haven't suffered enough" spiel doesn't make any sense when you put that into context, because I've never heard transmedicalists or traumagenic folks claim that suffering is quantifiable, in fact I've heard them state the exact opposite, that it's a very subjective experience), it means dysphoria pertaining to one's sex and sex characteristics - a persistent, ongoing sense of discomfort or wrongness pertaining to those things. Nobody is saying that you have to reach a suffering quota to be trans - they're saying that in order to be trans you have to have the necessary symptoms. Being trans is a neurological condition - the brain develops differently in key gendered areas to how the body develops, and this difference causes gender dysphoria. Gender dysphoria is a sense of wrongness and misalignment pertaining to one's sex and one's sex characteristics - you feel like they don't match, you feel uncomfortable with them, they feel out of place, and often you feel like you should have specific different sex characteristics. If you don't have any dysphoria then you don't have the causal factor (the differing areas of the brain), and so if you then alter your body through transition you will end up with a body that doesn't align with those areas of the brain - this will cause dysphoria. Transmedicalists spread this information with the goal of preventing people from spreading misinformation, with the goal of keeping the recognition of the condition as a medical one so that people can access treatment, and with the goal of preventing people from causing themselves dysphoria by undergoing a medical procedure that is unnecessary for them. As with those against endogenics, it's not "suffering elitism", it's an attempt to represent the situation and the condition accurately.

~ Vape

[dopecoffeetimemachine]

So this will be an incredibly long blog post.

This is my story. It’s like 3 pages, so take your time to read it if you are interested. It is the reason I need people to be aware of sexism and vow to stand up against it. Please join me here and irl, my next posts will be short ;)

Hi! I started this blog, because the past few days I started to feel obligated to educate the people around me about sexism. How do you do that? And when is the right time to stand up against these kinds of situations? I decided to write about the daily sexism I experience in my life to make the situation of mankind a little bit more clearly for those who don’t (want to) see this side of life. Male, female or other, I hope we can all see the world a little bit clearer and not get discouraged, but empowered to stand up. So one day, sexism will be unfathomable to our kids. Or even ourselves.

So, first things first, what is my story? Well, my story is not like that of anyone else (or at least anyone’s I’ve heard of). One of my parents is from a family with a lot of abuse. Amongst other things, they were sexually abused from a very young age, as were their siblings. As they went on in life, each of them chose different ways of adapting to deal with the cruelties that were done to them. It now so happened that one of my parents brothers started to have some feelings for children that he didn’t want to feel. Having a kid on his lap made him feel sexually aroused, among other things. Horrified as he was by these things that he felt, but didn’t want to feel, he did the thing that makes him one of the most courageous people I know: he told my parents. He felt that the only way of making sure that he wouldn’t commit such a horrendous crime as was done to him in his youth, was to warn the people that were his closest family. He wanted to protect their children at the chance of being thrown out of the family. But my parents didn’t do that. They chose to love him as the victim he was, but at the same time never let me or my brothers alone in a room with him. We never went over to his house, never had sleepovers, we were always with our parents when he was around. They tried to give him a chance to heal from the assault he suffered, while at the same time protecting their children. They loved, but they were not naïve.

However, something went horribly wrong. You know how sometimes people say: when I was a kid for a long time I thought life was like this or that, because I didn’t understand the grownup world and I reasoned like the small kid I was and I totally misunderstood? Well, I had that, but in a funny anecdote kind of way.

Because I was a very affectionate child, my parents decided to explain to me why I couldn’t hug my uncle anymore like I used to. They said: “You know how you always hug your uncle when he comes visit us? Well, you can’t anymore, because when you do that, he feels things that (I don’t know exactly how they explained it, but my six-year-old self knew they were talking about sex).” Of course, I was shocked by this and firmly promised that I would never do that again. I mean, no six-year-old wants to be involved in anything sexual ever. After this, we never spoke about the situation again and this knowledge started its own life. You see, even though the explanation of my parents could be interpreted the way they meant it, it was very vague. What I got from it was this: 1) you shouldn’t hug men, because you will make them feel sexually aroused; 2) you are the one that should take the responsibility not to make them feel aroused. Otherwise, if something happens to you, it’s your own mistake; 3) you are not safe within your closest family or with the people you love and trust. Could my parents know that this would happen in my mind? Probably not. Should they have spoken more about this situation (more extensive, talk about it at other instances, etc.)? Maybe. But as one of them was a sexual assault survivor, it is not very hard to understand this was a tough topic to guide their children around. It still hurts, though, because it could have prevented so much pain.

Anyway, as time went by I got more and more scared of men (I think this is the one and only advantage of the very heteronormative surroundings I grew up in: I never thought women could feel sexual attraction towards a girl). Now someone who doesn’t see the sexism surrounding us might ask: why would you? They didn’t assault you now, did they? No, they didn’t. But here’s the thing: NOTHING IN SOCIETY SPOKE AGAINST THOSE ASSUMPTIONS I MADE IN MY HEAD! I was told to sit up straight, because it would be weird if I lay down on the couch on a birthday (Why? Boys can lay down? Is it too sexual?). I wasn’t supposed to wear clothes that were ‘too tight’ or ‘too revealing’. Did my clothes make me a risk for my own safety? What is wrong with the female body that I cannot show a little cleavage but my brother can wear tank tops that have armholes so wide the only thing you cannot see is his belly button – at least until he bends over? Apparently boys didn’t get raped for having a body. Why was I not allowed to bike home alone from a school dance when I was 15, but it was okay if my 12yo brother with a bowl cut (sorry bro), horrible braces and barely reaching my shoulder accompanied me home? He definitely couldn’t defend me, however much he would try (love you man), so it just had to do with the fact that I was a woman?

All these things confirming that solely being a woman was enough to be unsafe in this society and that it would be my own fault too, resulted in behavior that can only be described as distorted. As I grew up, I refused to wear my hear in any other way then pulled back. Wearing your hair down is sexual, we all know that. As soon as I started growing boobs, I started to wear shawls. The bigger, the better (the shawls I mean 😉 ). At some point I had more shawls than pants or shirts. When I was older and started to work in a supermarket, I never made eye contact with any male customers. If one of the male customers smiled at me, just being friendly, nothing weird, I felt terrible. Why did I do that? Now there was an even bigger chance he would feel like he could take me!

All this time I didn’t know this shit was shit. And I was scared of every man in my life. The only person I was not scared of was my dad (and maybe two friends). Notice that not even my brothers are on this list. I remember one time I was like 12 and me and my younger brother were having a good time, as you do as siblings between yelling how much you hate each other. He has always been a very loving sweetheart, so he wrote me a note that said: I love you sis. It scared the shit out of me. I threw it back into his room, screamed at him and locked myself in in my own room. As I grew up, I was scared of my friends, my brothers, my teachers and most of my family. And it could be that way, not only through the horrible things that were done to my parents family and the trauma that followed from that, but also through the casual sexism ever so present in society.

Around the time I was nineteen, I was lying in bed, thinking about the world as one does, and suddenly realized that none of my female friends were scared of their uncles. I had been to their birthdays and they just laughed with them, hugged them, played rough house. It started to dawn on me that my situation wasn’t the usual. Not all men were like that. And that might mean that I have been thoroughly misunderstanding a lot about life.

Realizing that this might become a huge shifting point in my life, I decided to push it away. It had to wait until the holidays I had planned with my best friends. These girls are my safe house and I knew I would need them when this was about to go down.

The first day of that week I gathered all the courage I had, not knowing if I was stupid or overreacting or actually mentally disturbed or whatever. So I told them about all my fears and how I was not sure if they were normal and what they thought about it. And they were the sweetest, most caring and loving friends I could have ever asked for, supporting me in every way. They hugged me, were understanding, cried with me as I started to realize how fucked up my mind was and how all these years of fear were for nothing. They promised me one of the most helpful things anyone had ever done for me to help me recover: I could tell them all my fears and disturbing thoughts and they told me if they were true. Now I could wave goodbye to the fear of being snatched away and raped by that man standing behind me in the crowd. I didn’t need to be afraid of making eye contact, no normal man would take that as a sign that he could have sex with you even when you’d fight him. I started to gain perspective and that helped me to discern my thoughts when I was alone, so I could keep fighting this battle in my mind. It has been a terribly hard fight, with many (mis)understanding counselors, shocked but supporting friends and many other people along the way.

And it made me think. How could I protect other girls, growing up in this world, trying to understand this big thing called life? How could I make sure they had no reason to be afraid of the loving, good men around them, thinking their safety is at risk at all times and that it would be their fault? Of course, I can’t make sure no one ever grows up in a family with victims of sexual assault.

But I can work at a world where sexism isn’t natural anymore.

No (implied) inequality, sexist jokes, different expectations and standards, no ignorance. So I will do that through this blog. It might not be read by people not actively looking for this content, but it will remind me to speak out to the people around me, and maybe it will do the same for you.

Feel free to react!

[petri808]

To Hell and Back

Fic Writer’s Appreciation- January 2018 Writing Challenge January (2018) Day 18 Friendship

9K+ words.  Sequel to Alone No More, what did Natsu really do to end up cursed and how far would friends go to protect each other?  Sorry, it’s a little rushed since I was trying to get it done by the 18th.  I’ll probably tweak it and post an updated version on AO3 hopefully in a week or two.  Thanks for reading :)  

Levy, Erza, and Cana, three of Lucy’s best friends accompany her to a dress fitting in the city.  The wedding is just six months away and they all must get fitted for their gowns.  As the soon-to-be Princess of Kelekona, it was natural the girls were escorted in a carriage by several of the Royal guards.  Jellal, Sting, Leo, and Gajeel were some of the finest in the army and they were handpicked for the job by Natsu because Lucy’s safety was always his top priority.  

The girls arrived at the shop which had been cleared of any other customers for a private session with no trouble and once inside, the four men took up their positions, standing guard at the only entrances, two by a front door, and two by a rear exit in the back.  Inside, the shop keeper, and two assistants along with the four girls were the only ones.  

But little did they know, that one of the assistants was the wizard that originally cursed Natsu and she had other plans for the would-be bride…

“Ahh, Welcome again Lady Lucy,” the shop keeper bows to the young blonde, “I am honored that you chose my establishment for your royal wedding attire.”

“You are too humble, Hibiki,” she smiles, “Your dresses and suits speak for themselves and I am very much a fan.”

“Please, have a seat, ladies,” he gestures to some cushioned chairs as his assistants bring out refreshments, “Do you have a dress style in mind for you and the bridesmaids?”

“Yes…”

As the shopkeeper and Lucy speaks, one of the assistants dictates notes and sketches, while the other begins taking measurements of each women.  Styles, colors, embellishments, fabric preferences are all accounted for.  Natsu’s favorite colors are reds and golds so Lucy decided to go with that as the color theme, but for a fun little twist approved by the King and Queen, little dragons and stars will be embroidered on the bridal party’s attire.  

When it is Lucy’s turn, Karen, one of the assistant’s gestures to the riser, “Please, Lady Lucy, step up so that I may take your measurements.”

Hibiki turns his questions towards the Maid of Honor Levy to gather more information on the exact placements of the embroidery as Cana and Erza look around the shop at the other fineries he sells.  This establishment caters to mostly nobility and other wealthier citizens of the surrounding areas but, a little window shopping couldn’t hurt.

“Please stand up straight and put your arms out.”  Once Lucy complies, Karen measures the length of arm from neck to wrist, then bust and waist.  “Are you excited to be marrying the Prince, Lady Lucy?”

“Oh yes,” the young blonde beams at the mention of her fiancé, “It has been such a magical journey, like those fables you read to children, but it’s actually happening to me!”

Karen kneels to measure the inseam and outer leg lengths, “Prince Natsu seems like a nice young man, he is very lucky to have met you.”

“Thanks,” the girl blushes  

“Would you tell me,” Still in the kneeling position, Karen lowers her voice so that the other’s around them cannot hear her, “are the rumors true, had he really been cursed and turned into a dragon and you were the one who broke the spell?”

“It’s true,” Lucy tilts her head, “But, I’m a little surprised, I thought everyone in this city knew the story.”

“Oh, I have,” the woman smirks, “I just wanted to confirm it from the source.”

“Why?”

“To make sure…” she looks straight at Lucy, “my spell is cast on the right person.”

“Spell…” Lucy begins to back-peddle, slipping off the riser and falling, “Wh-who are you…”

Karen stands up, “the witch who cursed Natsu.  He should have suffered longer after what he did to deserve it!”

“Hey what’s going on!” Hibiki and the others rush over, “Karen wh…”

“Stay back, all of you!”  Now even the guards have surrounded them.  “I will kill her if anyone comes any closer.”

But the guards take a step forward.  “Wait!” Lucy shrieks, “Stay where you are.” She turns back to the woman, “why do you want to hurt me?!  I thought it was just a prank that…”

“It was no prank!  And there are others that know this to be true who have helped him hide it.” Sting flinches, but says nothing.  “Two years wasn’t long enough for him to learn his lesson, and so I am forced to act once again.”  

“But why me?  I didn’t have anything to do with that!” Lucy is in tears by this point, “I wasn’t here…”

“Don’t you think I know that stupid girl!  But for him to realize and atone for what he did, I must take away what is most precious to him…  and that my dear is you.”  

She lifts her hand above her head, “May she draw out the truth that lies buried in his soul and deliver reparations for my heart.  Lefkó os katharó me fterá chrysoú, metamorfónoun aftó to korítsi se dráko! (White as pure with wings of gold, transform this girl into a dragon!)”  

Lucy’s body begins to glow just like Natsu’s did when he began to transform, “What did you do to me?”  

“What did you do to the Princess!” Jellal shouts, “Damn witch you will pay!” He takes a step forward...

“Kill me and you won’t learn the secret to removing the spell,” Karen snickers.  “Do you really wanna do that?”

While everyone watches, Lucy’s body slowly changes… morphing into a dragon.  “Please tell us how to save her!” Levy begs through her tears, “she doesn’t deserve this…”  

They must move back as the creatures grows, a little smaller in size, and white with goldish colored wings than Natsu had been…  “Please Ms. Karen!” the girl drops to her knees beside her unconscious friend as the glowing subsides, “Tell me!”

“Follow the instructions I leave to the letter, and remember, the names given must do exactly as instructed or she will remain a dragon for the rest of her life…”  the witch simply vanishes into thin air and in her place, lies a book.  

“Fuck where did she go?!” Jellal screams.  “Gajeel, Leo fan out into the surrounding areas and search, Sting let’s get these girls back to the palace now!”

“But what about the Princess?  She’s still unconscious, how do we get her to the palace?”

Hibiki who is still shaken by the whole ordeal volunteers, “I have a horse drawn cart out back, s-she should fit in it.”

“Thank you, Hibiki,” Erza places her hand on his shoulder trying to reassure him…

All the while, Cana had picked up the book and turned her attentions to Levy who is sobbing hysterically over her friend.  “Come on Levy, we’re gonna save her…” she rubs the girls back, “Don’t lose it now, we need you to stay strong…” she shows her friend the book, “and we’re gonna need your skills.”

Levy wipes at her face and looks at the book, “It l-looks like Dragoumik, an ancient dialect used by priests who worshiped these creatures a couple hundred years ago…”

“Girls,” they turn to see Sting walk up behind them, “We need everyone’s help to move Lady Lucy…”

In order not to create a panic, Lucy is hidden under fabrics, and driven by Hibiki himself to look like a simple delivery of goods to the palace, but Levy refuses to leave her friend’s side and lays down next to her just in case she wakes up.  The rest of the entourage follows in their carriage with Jellal leaving the girls in Sting’s care to find his other two guards.  

On the way, Levy flips the book open and finds a loose paper, folded, and tucked against the seam.  There is too little lighting to read most of it, but clearly it is instructions just as Karen said they would be.  “Hang in there Lucy,” she lays her head against her friend, “I’ll get you back to normal, and find out what the hell Natsu did to cause all this!”

Once safely behind the walls of the palace, and with the help of a few other guards, Lucy is swiftly carried to her room before anyone can see her.  While the three girls wait there, Erza asks a guard to fetch the King and Queen and Sting rushes off to find Natsu who is with Gray somewhere in the training fields near the forest.

But Levy is not wasting anytime, as soon as Lucy is safely in her room she yanks the paper out of the book and starts reading…

“The three conspirators must find the keys to unlocking the spell.  Natsu Dragneel.  Gray Fullbuster.  Sting Eucliffe…”  ‘Gray and Sting know something?!’  “Fullbuster will search for the Jewel of Reflection, Eucliffe must find the Elixir of Contrition, and Natsu Dragneel shall locate the Verity Chalice.  In this Book of Wisdom, you shall find the directions for each key piece.  

Each conspirator will be put through their own tests in order to obtain the key pieces.  Once collected, all must be brought by these individuals before Lucy in the place her heart was stolen…”  ‘Place her heart was stolen?  What the hell does that mean?’  “Remember, they must keep the items they were tasked to find with them.  

Place the Jewel and Elixir together in the chalice and incant the spell Allagi to activate the final test.  Once Lucy drinks the potion, Natsu must atone for what he did and if he speaks the truth, the curse will be broken.”  ‘Spell?’  Levy frantically flips through the codex, ‘Spell?  There!  Allagi!’  “I’ve got it!  I’ve got it!!”

“Got what?!!”  Cana and Erza rush over to their friend.

“I know what needs to be done to save Lucy!”

Movement catches their attention as Lucy stretches her legs and wings, like she is waking up from a long slumber.  “Lucy!” the two girls run over to her.  

Cana, “Lucy, don’t freak out but you’ve been turned into a dragon.”  But she literally jumps to her feet, wide-eyed, spinning trying to see it for herself.  

Erza, “Lucy calm down, y-you’re gonna hurt yourself… or break something.”

Levy hugs the dragon’s neck, “Stop, Lucy, it’s gonna be okay!” tears are starting to trickle again, “We know what we need to do, we’re just waiting for the others to get here.”  The dragon settles down and hangs her head.  “I swear to you, Lu, I’m gonna get you back to normal and figure out what the hell Natsu did to cause this in the first place!”

The two girls and Lucy both look up at their friend, “What do you mean what he did?” the red-head asks.

“This is not over some stupid prank, that woman was angry, and she even alluded to it back at that shop…  Reflection…  Contrition…  Verity…” Levy’s voice is cynical and irritated, “…it’s all about making amends for something and I doubt it’s because of a joke.  And whatever happened, she believes that Gray and Sting knew about it and helped Natsu to cover it up.”

“So, you said, you know what needs to be done?”

“Yeah, but there’s only one thing I’m not sure about.  It says once they’ve gathered the keys they must…” she looks back to the book and skims over the words as she reads them aloud, “Once collected, all must be brought by these individuals before Lucy in the place her heart was stolen,” looks at Lucy, “Do you know where that place is?”  The dragon stares for a second then shakes its head.  “Maybe Natsu will...”

Little did the girls know, that King Igneel and Queen Grandeeney had arrived at the room just as Levy was hugging Lucy to calm her down, and when they heard the discussion, stopped to listen.  

By the time Levy was asking about the place Lucy’s heart was stolen the Queen was in tears and the King was fuming, not at what was happening now but his son.  Something in his heart had always wondered if a simple prank could have led to the curse and now, with his future daughter-in-law, an innocent party affected, he was ready to demand the truth.

Queen Grandeeney is too upset so one of her attendants takes her back to her chambers but Igneel takes a deep breath and opens the door.  As soon as he sees Lucy his heart drops even more.  “Damn it Natsu…” he mutters under his breath and shakes his head.  

“King Igneel,” the two girls bow their heads at the arriving monarch, even Lucy drops hers but the King, lifts it back up.  

“I’m so sorry my dear,” moisture is clouding his eyes as he stares at the dragon, “you don’t deserve the pain my son has brought upon you.”  turning to Levy, “I believe what you were saying, Natsu must have done something far worse to that wizard than he admitted to, to bring this on again.  Can you really save her?”

“Yes.” Levy states without hesitation.

King Igneel nods, “Good, then I’m putting you in charge.  If my son so much as whines I swear I am gonna give him a lashing he’ll never forget!  Lucy is the best thing that has ever happened to him and if he screws it up I’ll… I’ll…” but before he finishes, Lucy nuzzles the king’s face with her snout to quiet him.  Her eyes are soft, reflecting warmth and compassion, they say to let it go…  

Exhale, “You’re too good for him,” King Igneel smiles, “But if you can offer mercy at a time like this then so can I.”  Lucy closes her eyes as he smooth’s her muzzle, releasing what can be only be described as a sigh…

At that moment Natsu and Gray burst through the doors with Sting right behind them.  “Fuck, what the hell did that bitch do to you!”  But before he can reach Lucy, both his father and Levy step between them.

“You’ve got some serious explaining to do young man.” His father grabs his son by the shirt, “and you two,” he looks at Gray and Sting who stand petrified behind their friend, “you helped him get in this mess, you’re helping him get out of it or you’ll spend the rest of your lives in the dungeon, understood!”

Gray and Sting just nod and hang their heads while Igneel lets go of his son’s shirt.  “Now, the three of you are gonna stand there, with your mouths shut, as Levy tells you exactly what you have to do to fix this problem.  If any of you gives her any problems you’ll be answering to me, got it?”  Again, they nod.  

“Can’t I at least kiss my fiancé or hug her, something?  She’s gotta be upset right now.”

“Lucy,” the king turns to the dragon, “Do you want a hug from Natsu?”  The dragon shakes her head no, “Sorry son, guess she’s still upset, with you.”

“Why me?”

Having stayed quiet while the King dealt with his son, Levy just can’t hold back the anger that had been simmering for the what the Prince had caused her best friend.  “Are you fucking serious!” the young girl starts screaming and advancing on Natsu, “Even though some of us don’t know exactly what you did to cause it, we do know it’s all your Fucking Fault!!”

Everyone’s mouth drops at the profanity coming out of the usually quiet girls mouth and Cana and Erza must grab Levy by the shoulders to pull her back.  “…You, and Gray, and Sting pissed off that witch and now Lucy is paying for it!  And you’re gonna friggin fix this or so help me the dungeon is gonna be a vacation compared to what I do to you!”          

“Alright!” Natsu puts his hands up, “Of course I’ll do anything to break the curse, I want Lucy back!”

Levy reads aloud the instructions given by the witch word for word and while she does this, the King watches the expressions on Natsu, Gray, and Sting’s faces carefully.  He can see the wheels turning in their minds, clearly all three of them were guilty of something, but what?  

The witch called them all conspirators but according to witnesses, she also said she was taking away what was precious to him, meaning Natsu.  His son must be the one who did something and the other two are covering for him.

After finishing, Levy looks straight at Natsu and asks, “Where is the Place Lucy’s heart was stolen?”

He shrugs his shoulders, “I have no idea.”

“Well think harder!  Because unless we can figure it out, finding those keys are useless.  Only two people know this answer, you and Lucy and unfortunately, she can’t speak right now.”

“I’m not sure…” his shoulder slump and he plops down onto their bed holding his head in his hands, “Gah!  I’m not good at this romantic stuff, I-I…” Even though he’s covering his face, Lucy can smell the tears starting to trickle down his face.  She walks over and nudges his hand until he finally looks up at her.  

“Lucy, I’m so sorry!” he throws himself on her, hugging to her neck, “I swear I never meant for anything like this to happen…”  Letting his tears go, the young Prince’s chest heaves from crying so forcefully, “I’m gonna get you back to normal, I promise, I promise, just don’t leave me please!”  She nuzzles him back as if to say I’m not going anywhere…

And that’s when it hits him, “I know the place…” he sniffles and pulls back to caress her muzzle.  Resting his forehead against her cheek, “It’s the same place you stole my heart too.”

“Well?!!” Everyone shouts at the same time.

He smiles and kisses her nose, “The cave, am I right?”  Lucy nods her head.

“Great!” Levy stands up from the loveseat she was on, “Now that we know where it is, it’s time you three go and find the key pieces.” She hands out instructions to where they will find them.  “I don’t know what you’ll encounter when you get to these locations but just come back as quickly as possible.

 Once you’ve all returned, meet back here at the palace and make sure you hold on to the pieces you were told to find,” she stresses, “since the witch specifically assigned them, there must be some significance to it.  Then we’ll all go to the cave together, I’ll have the spell translated by then.”

King Igneel, “Should I send help with them?”

“No,” Levy shakes her head, “the witch wanted this to be a test of sorts that they needed to complete, on their own.”

“Okay,” the king agrees, but he worries.  He might be angry with Natsu but he’s still his only son.

Each person in the room, makes their way out, Igneel goes to check on his wife and let her know what’s going on, Sting and Gray still with their heads hung in shame set out on their missions, Cana and Erza drag Levy out with her to give the couple a few minutes alone, promising to return quickly with food.

“Lucy,” with trepidation in his tone, he smooths the area around her face and neck, “Are you really still mad at me?”  she nods.  He sighs, “D-do you… hate me?”  she shakes her head no.  “Do you still love me?”  Now this time she doesn’t respond for a few seconds, giving him a mild heart attack, but soon nuzzles his face and nods her head.  

He exhales long a deep, “I know this might not mean much under the circumstances, but you still look beautiful Luce.”  She shakes her head, shying away from his gaze, but he turns her head back to him, “No, really you are, you’ll always be beautiful to me no matter what.”  Leaning his forehead to hers, “I’ll make this right again, okay?”  she nods, “be back before you know it,” he flashes his cheeky grin, and after one more kiss to her nose he sprints out the door…  

Gray’s quest leads him to the summits of Mount Hakobe, trudging through snow drifts and semi-blizzard like conditions; it’s painfully slow going.  It didn’t help that the location of the Jewel gave very little details, a cave on Rumi’s Peak marked by blue granite about 600 yards from the base.  But the peak was at least half a kilometer wide and chances are the cave will be hidden by snow.

Locals in the area give him a little more information saying the cave faces East, towards the rising sun; a symbol of new beginnings.  Is it a sign he wonders, as he makes his way in that direction, find redemption for what they had done and begin… anew?  

He had known the second Sting told them what had transpired their past had come back to haunt them.  They should have been free and clear, the girl and her mother had moved to the other side of the continent, Natsu’s curse had been broken, so why did that witch have to stir things up again?!  

Unless this wasn’t just to punish the Prince, but them as well?  It had been selfish of him but when Natsu was the only one to suffer the witches curse he had breathed a sigh of relief that the witch hadn’t come after them too.  ‘Well I guess I was wrong…’ grumbling in his head, ‘all because that idiot couldn’t control himself, I’m here freezing my ass off!’  

It was almost like the mountain heard his protests because winds began to whip around him, swirling and lashing him with the icy snow.  He runs with his arms up frantically trying to block his face from the onslaught, but it can only do very little as what feels like tiny daggers slice at any exposed skin.  With his desperation mounting, a glimmer of hope rises in the distance, a cave, ‘Shelter!’  And heads right for it….

“Well at least this elixir thing is in the forest,” Sting snickers, ‘Gray must be thrilled with the snow, fuck, he’s always been frigid anyways, he’ll fit right in.’  He wipes at the beads of sweat gathering on his forehead.  “Tch, never thought a rain forest would be so damn hot though!” shouting at the birds chirping around him.          

Hacking away at the vines and foliage, Sting traipses over the cushiony ground of fallen leaves and other debris, thoroughly irritated that he was stuck in this situation.  “I didn’t get them drunk!” slicing through another thick vine.  “I wasn’t even there when he shagged her!!”  

It was true that the soldier hadn’t been with his two friends when they were partying with the girl, though at the time he was mad he wasn’t.  Usually it was the three of them getting into such mischief but that night he was on guard duty.  I mean what virtuous chick would even agree to be alone with men unless she wasn’t as innocent as she claimed to be.  

The chauvinist in him had no problem blaming her for the whole ordeal and that’s why he did what he did to protect his friend and his kingdom.  There was no way he was going to allow, who he felt was a whore, tarnish the Princes name, and he was pretty sure he had scared the girl enough to keep her mouth shut.  Then, when Natsu had gotten cursed by the witch he became paranoid for a time that he would be next on the list, after all he had a played his part.    

But nothing happened, months went by and when he learned the girl and her mother had moved far away he thought he was clear.  ‘Boy was I wrong…’  When that woman started talking about the people who knew, he thought he was done for, but instead she focused on Lucy.  Panic had rose like bile in his throat, but he couldn’t move, no one knew what they had done, and he wasn’t about to admit to it either.  

It wasn’t until he was looking for Natsu that he could reflect on what was going on.  For Sting, the girl had meant nothing, but Lucy was a completely different case.  He liked her, a lot, as in, if Natsu had screwed up he would have swooped in to console her.  At least he had enough respect for his friend never to cross the line until that happened and considering they were engaged to be married, probably never will.  But it wasn’t right, that she was being punished for their transgressions.  

“Where the hell’s this medicine guy!” pushing a branch out of his way.  “I don’t have time to waste here!” another branch.  “Damn it!” just as he’s moving another branch, a strong gust of wind funnels through the trees, ‘what the…’ picking up leaves and other vegetation from the ground propelling it at him.  His hands fly up to block but the branch he had already started to push forward, recoils, hitting him square in the chest and flinging him backwards.

Sting’s body slams hard against a tree trunk before landing face first at it’s base, knocked out col

“…Hey Gray, why is there a girl here?”   “I met her at the tavern last night, invited her to party with us.”   “I’d rather not…”   “What are you scared of…”

He shakes his head, ‘I should’a left, right that second, I should’a left her alone with Gray,’ he sighs and rubs his temples.  But the messed-up part is, if not for that night, and being turned into the dragon… ‘I wouldn’t have met Lucy.’  “Oh, this is so fucked up!” the exasperation in his voice speaks volumes, is fate really so, twisted?  ‘I got to meet the girl of my dreams…  after meeting the one that became my nightmare.’

Natsu’s journey would take him the furthest of the trio, for the goblet he needed to obtain was near the city of Alvarez.  Clear across the continent of Fiore it will take him at least 3 days of hard riding by horse which left him a lot of time to think.  And the fact was, he didn’t even know what the truth was anymore or what to believe.  

That night in the barracks he remembers drinking with Gray and the girl, he knows he got wasted on alcohol, but at some point, he must have blacked out because he doesn’t remember sleeping with her.  Not to say it didn’t happen, just that he couldn’t remember.  For all he knew he simply fell asleep.  

But according to Gray, when he woke up he found Natsu, with only his boxers on, passed out next to the partially naked girl, it sure looked like they had had sex.  So, he believed Gray when he was told it must have taken place; his friend wouldn’t lie to him, right?  And in his panic, he let his two best friends cover up the incident like nothing ever happened.  

And that was easier to believe, to assure himself that nothing happened, it was a misunderstanding, hell, that it was all just a drunken dream and for six months no one could have told him otherwise; until that witch cursed him.  The woman never told him who she was or why she was doing that to him, but it didn’t take a genius to put it together.  

That’s when the truth reversed in his mind, and believed he had deflowered the girl.  His parents had raised him with enough morals to know it was wrong to take a girl’s virginity before marriage and this tore him up inside.  

So, by the time Lucy had found him injured in the forest, he did want to die but not because he felt alone like he had told her, but because he felt he had committed such a horrible sin.  That poor girl would never be looked upon the same if men knew she was no longer pure, and it was all his fault.          

With the sun about to set in just a couple hours, Natsu finally arrives at his destination.  ‘This is odd…’  he remarks to himself, for this forest clearing is eerily silent.  No birds chirping or insects buzzing, no sound of wind rustling the leaves, just a still and unnerving dead space.  

His horse begins back-peddling and shuffling from side to side, even this creature feels the uncomfortable energy of this place.  “Shhh…” he pats and rubs his horses neck, trying to prompt it forward again, but the animal plants it front feet, refusing to take another step.  

“You finally made it, Prince Natsu…”  

He looks up from his horse, eyes narrowing and anger bubbling to the surface the instant recognition processes in his brain, for where there was no one before a woman stands waiting, “You!”                

Back in Kelekona, Lucy is so distraught she refuses to leave her room, but worried about her sanity, her three best friends take turns to make sure she’s never alone.  They do their best to keep her spirits up, and her attention on anything but the fact she was just turned into a dragon.  

Lucy permits a few others to come in like the King and Queen, Princess Wendy, her servants Aries and Virgo; but only people she knows she can trust.    

Unable to talk anymore, like Natsu, she instead does a lot of reflecting.  Lucy hides her emotions from her friends, which is not difficult considering she can no longer smile or frown, cry or laugh and other actions that may give it away.  She must admit, that being incapable of doing any of those things that makes them human, really does leave you feeling lonely.  

To think Natsu spent two years in this condition and after just two days she can barely stand it.  No wonder he started to retreat from the world he knew.  But what about the things the witch had said?  What did Natsu, Gray, and Sting do that was so horrible, to incur her wrath?  

After the boys had left, Levy had divulged a little more of the translations to just the girls.  Levy had purposely withheld details from them because she wanted them to suffer a little and when she explained what she meant, they could see why.  Yes, each of the guys were assigned a specific item because they were tailored to what the witch wanted them to learn.  

The journey to the item would be physically demanding, and when they finally found the pieces, to obtain them the tests will humble and break them down mentally.  The witch wants them to understand what they did, whatever they did, was wrong.  And even after all of that, Natsu must pass the final, and ultimate test given not by these magical items, but by Lucy herself for the spell will give her the ability to discern whether or not he is telling the truth….              

He shakes away the layer of snow and ice now coating his face and clothing, surveying the damage left behind from the frozen projectiles.  “Tsss…” he grimaces when he feels a particularly deep cut on his forehead, ‘That’s gonna leave a scar.’  

‘Now, what?’  Unable to see anything around him, all he can hear are the howling winds outside of the cave.  But luckily as a soldier, he had been trained to handle subzero situations and was well equipped to deal with the darkness he finds himself trapped in.  

Pulling the glow wand, he had brought along, he looks around, noting the cave will provide adequate protection for now but maybe there will be another way out.  

Carefully, he moves along the wall of the passageway, ducking from stalactites and stepping around stalagmites, he’s not paying full attention to what is in front of him.  Bang!  Walking straight into a hard obstruction he swore up and down wasn’t there, not only does his face hurt from where it slammed into the surface but his ass when he slipped and fell backwards.  

“Fuck!” rubbing his bruised rear, “What the hell?!” waving the glow wand in front of him, his own image greets him.  “Whoa…” reaching out to touch the reflective ice, its surprising, “Never seen ice like this before…” moving the wand higher, a slight distortion in the ice catches his attention.  Gray stands up to get a closer look and realizes, this is it, this is the Jewel he was looking for!

Frozen in the center of the wall, it’s so clear it almost blend’s right into the ice if not for the raised and cut appearance.  Was it really a jewel that someone had hidden here ages ago, it must be since no natural stone could have that finished gem like appearance.              

Gray grabs his trusty knife and sets to work on freeing it from the ice, but the moment his fingers touch the stone, his reflection shimmers and distorts.  All around him the cave he was just standing in fades away.  “’what’s going on!” in a panic, the blade drops from his hand, the scene is changing…

“No!  No Way!”  … to that night...  “Not again!”  

Frantically turning around, he sees Natsu lying in the bed next to the girl but somethings different.  His friend is not asleep but grinning at him, “Isn’t this what you wanted to happen Gray?” the apparition taunts the shaken soldier and sits up.  “You were the one who invited her, you wanted to party, you wanted to get her drunk to…”

“Don’t say it!” Gray closes his eyes and clutches at his ears to tune out Natsu’s voice.  “This is not what I wanted to happen!!”

“Just admit it Gray, and your pain go away…” someone or something grabs his shoulders, “…admit that this was all your fault!”  

“NOO!!!” he pulls away from the apparition, pressing himself against the wall, “I just wanted to have some fun, I didn’t expect you to sleep with her!”

“But that still means you started the chain of events, Gray you brought her here, you helped feed her the alcohol…  You’re just as guilty as I am…”

The soldier buckles and slides to the floor, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!!!” he cries, sobbing into his hands.  “It is my fault this happened… and now poor Lucy is suffering too when it should have been me…  Why didn’t the witch target me instead?” he looks up at Natsu’s doppelganger, “she didn’t deserve to get cursed for our sin.”

“Everything will be okay now…” the Prince kneels and hugs his friend, “…it’ll be okay…”

Soft white light, so bright fills the room, Gray closes his eyes and exhales as the weight of the whole world lifts from his shoulders…  When he opens his eyes again, he is back in the cave.  He blinks, still stunned and shaken from the experience that had seemed utterly real… and it was, in his mind, he had been taken back to the night.

A pulse of red, a cracking noise, Gray looks to the jewel and sees the ice holding it begin to fracture around it, diving just as it starts to fall he manages to catch it.  “I’ve gotta get this back to Lucy!”

“Young man…”  someone shakes Sting’s shoulder, “Excuse, me young man, it’s time you wake up…”

“Huh?” rolling to his side, his aching body, stiff after a long slumber.  “What?”

“I think you should get up, you’ve been asleep for a day and a half.”

“Whoa, a day and a half!” Sting shoots up to a sitting position.  Looking around he finds himself on a cot in some old hut, with a bandage wrapped around his forehead.  “How’d I get here?  Wait, where is here?”

“I found you unconscious in the forest.  You had a really bad cut above your eye, and so I brought you to my home to patch you up.”

“I…” trying to stand on wobbly legs, “I need to get back to my mission,” but he stumble’s and the elderly gentleman steadies him.

“Mission, what kind of mission?”

“A very important one!  I need to find a medicine man that lives in this forest cause he’s supposed to know where the Elixir of Contrition is.” Turning to the man, “Hey, do you know where I can find this guy?”

“Oh yes, he’s very close.”

“Really!?” the soldier’s eyes light up, “Where?!”

“Standing in front of you.”

Sting’s eyes widen, and he grabs the man by the shoulders, “Please, tell me where this elixir is!  I need to help my friend that was cursed.”

“I’m sorry, young man, but It is not something I can simply give you, however, I can show you how to try and obtain it,” Sting releases the gentleman and takes a step back, “if that is truly what you desire.”

“Yes!  I’ll do anything to save Lucy!”

“Very well, sit here,” he prompts Sting back onto the cot, “I’ll be right back.”

The blonde man watches as the elderly medicine man rummages around on a back table, all the while his mind is racing.  He couldn’t believe his luck to run into the one guy he was searching this huge forest for!  But then again, it had been odd, the way that happened, he reaches up and touches the throbbing area above his eye.

The man had said he had a cut there, did it happen when the branch hit him?  Or maybe when he his face hit the ground?  Sting prided himself on his appearance, always making sure to keep his body toned and in superior form so while he waits he scans around the room and sees a mirror hanging on one of the walls.

He pulls the bandage off to survey the damage and gasps, a large diagonal cut runs down from his hair line almost to his right eye.  ‘Damn, that’s gonna leave a scar!’  Anger at the witch boils to the surface, ‘that bitch!  This is all her fucking fault!’

“Young man?”

Sting whips around and is confronted by the gentleman and sees something, “Is that it?”  He snatches the bottle out of the man’s hands and immediately grows irritated.  Turning it upside down, “It’s empty!”

“I told you, it’s not something I could just hand to you.  Come,” he pushes Sting back to the cot, “sit and I will tell you what you must do”

“Ugh, I don’t have time…”

“Do you want the elixir or not?”

Sting’s shoulder slump, “yes…”

“Then listen closely.  Do you understand what the word ‘Contrition’ means?” Sting shakes his head no.  “It stands for repenting, being remorseful for an action you’ve done.  In order for anyone to be granted the elixir they must be willing to atone for those actions or it will not reveal itself.”

“Great…”

“I do not judge you, though it is obvious by your facial expressions you may not be ready to receive it…  however, it is for the elixir to give the final ruling.” He hands Sting another cup, this one does contain a liquid substance.  “Drink, and it shall all be revealed.”

“Drink this?” he sniffs the strange smelling concoction.

“Drink or not, that is your choice.”

Sting takes another whiff, “Are you sure this isn’t poison?”

“You won’t die, if that is what you are asking me.”

The young man hesitates, ‘but… I need to do this for her…’ and gulps the liquid down.  “Yuck!”  A woozy sensation floods over the young man, “Wass… happpnin to meee…”

“Sting help me!”

“Gray?” he blinks his eyes, ‘How the…’ looking around him, ‘I’m back in the barracks?’

“Sting, you idiot, get over here!” his friend is yelling at him, half dragging Natsu down the hall towards him.  He rushes over and gets under one arm while Gray carries their friend from the other.  “We need to get Natsu outta here and back to the palace without anyone seeing us.”

“It’s too far to carry his ass, just take him to my room.” He lets go of his friend, “I’ll take care of the problem…”

“What are you gonna do?”

“The less you know the better, just go!”

Gray looks suspiciously at his friend but, Sting was right, “Alright, I’ll just hide out with Natsu in your room till you come back.”  They head in opposite direction.

The young blonde man pauses before entering Gray’s room.  He knows exactly what he’s about to see and it was a memory he had worked so hard to suppress, had convinced himself it was all to protect their friend…  

The girl had still been passed out when he arrived, gathering her clothing he slapped her face, “Get up you whore!”  But she was so drunk all she did was groan.  A second slap, harder this time.  “Bitch get up!”

“Where am I…” the throb of her cheek finally brings her around “why’d you hit me?!...”

He tosses the clothes at her, “Put your shit on!” he glares at her.  “I ought’a arrest you right now for treason!”

“Treason!  But I-I didn’t do anything wrong!”

“Don’t lie to me you whore.  I know you seduced the Prince, so you could blackmail him.”

“N-no, I didn’t even…” she looks at her naked body, “I don’t think I…”

He grabs her arm and shakes her, “I said put your fucking clothes on!”  Scared and terrified, as tears start to flow down her cheeks, she hurries to comply to his demands.      

“But I swear to you sir, I didn’t do anything to hurt the Prince… I like him…”

“Wrong answer!” he slaps her so hard she flies off the bed.  “No Prince would dare to beholden himself to a girl so willing to spread herself before marriage.  I bet you put a spell on him, didn’t you?!”  

“Please!” curling up into a corner, “I swear it’s not true!  I would never be taken before marriage…”

He grabs the trembling girl again and lifts her up, “Hear me loud and clear girl, if you so much as tell anyone that you were here or that you even met the Prince at all, I will make damn sure no man will ever want you, do you understand?”  She nods her head fervently, “You wouldn’t want to be known as a whore, do you?”  She shakes her head as more tears stream down her face.  “Then you take this to your grave!  Now clean yourself up cause I’m taking you outta here and I never wanna see your face again!...”

The girl had meant nothing to him for if he truly believed she had slept with Natsu that made her a slut in his eyes.  And he needed to protect his friend…  With one last deep exhale he enters…

“Oh my God…” he can’t believe the sight in front of him.  “Lucy?”  ‘What the hell is going on?  Where’s the other girl?’  No, instead, they are no longer in the barracks, but the palace and the young blonde girl is lying on the bed a bloody heap.  Her face is bruised and eye blackened, hair a jumbled mess, knotted and tangled, and what little clothes remain on her body is in tatters.  “L-lucy?”

“He did this to me Sting,” the girls one eye stares at him, she sits up, “Natsu did this to me…”

“No, he’d never….”

“After we got married he changed,” she stands up, “became abusive…” and slowly ambles towards him.      

Sting can see cuts and marring over her legs and arms, her frame has become so frail and thin, “It’s not possible…” stuttering, “I know him, he couldn’t…”

“This is all your fault Sting…” she reaches out but collapses forward, too weak to sustain her own weight.      

He catches her and cradles her in his arms as they both sink to the floor, “How is this my fault?”

“After he learned how you took care of his ‘situation,’ it made him think being cold and heartless was strength, because then no one would dare take advantage of him again…”

“B-But that’s not what happened…”  tears pool at his lids, “I-I didn’t want to…”

“He started beating me, if I so much as look at him wrong, he hits me, if I don’t give him what he desires, he doesn’t let me eat…”

“I need to stop him, Lucy, I can’t let him hurt you too!”

“But don’t you believe you did the right thing?  Didn’t you enjoy it?”

“No!  I didn’t enjoy it, I didn’t want to do what I did…  I knew it was wrong and I was stupid and I’m so sorry!  I’m so sorry,” he closes his eyes and tightens his grip around her, “Oh God I’m so sorry Lucy!”

“it’s okay Sting…” she hugs him back, “Everything is gonna be okay…”

Emptiness.  “Lucy!”  Sting’s eyes pop open and he’s back in the hut.  “Where’d she go?”

“Ah, your back,” a tender voice brings him back to his senses, “and you were successful.” Gesturing to the bottle.

“Huh?”  When he looks down at the bottle in his hand, “It’s full?”

The man smile, “The Elixir.”

“I’ve gotta get back to Lucy now!”

“It’s you!” Natsu glares at the witch.  “Why are you doing this?!”

“Have you not figured it out yet Prince?  I could have killed you for what you did to my daughter…”

His eyes widen, ‘her daughter!’

“…But instead I wanted to teach you a lesson.  I had hoped that if and when your curse was broken, you would repent and tell your new love the truth.”  She looks to the sky, “how can one love without being honest to themselves and to those they care most about…” turning back to him, “but you didn’t.  You lied to Lucy saying it was a simple prank when you knew, the three of you knew it was no joke!”

“I couldn’t tell her…” his shoulders slump, “I don’t even know what the truth was because I don’t remember all of it.  And,” he exhales, “I worried that if I told her what Gray and Sting said had happened she’d leave me...”

Karen snickers, “Well, now you will find out won’t you, because your only hope of breaking her curse is to atone for what you did; that will be your ultimate test.”  Laughter echoes from the woman as she fades away right before his eyes.

“Wait…  the Chalice…”  and where the witch had been standing, it lies…  Lucy’s beautiful smile flashes in his mind as he picks up the cup, “It’s time to end this nightmare…”

Gray was the first to arrive back at the capital, followed by Sting, but it was not for 2 more days still before Natsu came riding in and no sooner than he was dismounting from his horse a panicked group of people came running out of the palace.  “She’s gone!” Levy flings herself at Natsu, beating at his chest, “Lucy took off in the middle of the night and no one knows where she went!”

“What do you mean she’s gone!” he grabs her arms to still her.  “You guys were supposed to be watching over her!”  

“She slipped out while everyone was a sleep.”  Gajeel pulls his girlfriend away from Natsu to comfort her, “no one saw anything.”

“Something had to have…  how was she acting before it happened?”

“Come to think of it,” Erza, steps out from the group, “like you used to before you would disappear for long periods of time.”

Natsu’s heart drops, “she’s depressed…”  Sinking to his knees, the young Prince cannot hold back the tears from sneaking through, ‘Oh God…  I would have gladly accepted death than to let her feel this pain…’  

“Snap out of it!” Gray slaps Natsu, “We didn’t go through everything we did to give up, now think!” grabbing his friend by the shirt and standing him up, “Where might she go?”

“I…”

“Oi,” Sting shakes the man too, “Where did you go to hide?”

“T-the cave,” he stammers out, “It’s a cave on Mount Heiwa, the place we lost our hearts...”

Cana, “Well then let’s go boys!  We’ve got no time to spare,” turning to her friend, “Levy, you have the spell, right?”

“Yeah…”

It had been almost a year since Natsu had been back to the cave, and the last time was when he was still a dragon.  With flight, the distance had been maybe a half hour but by horse, it took the group almost 10 hours to reach just the base of the mountain or as far as the horses could trek, and that still left the hike up.  

Gray, “How long do you think it’ll take to get up there?”

Natsu, “It’s maybe half way up, just before the tree line ends.”

Levy, “It’s getting dark, should we camp here for the night and head out first think in the morning?”

Natsu, “No way, I’m not leaving her alone another night!”

Sting, “Then we go, Leo, Gajeel stay here with the horses, the rest of us will uses our glow wands to light the way, Natsu you lead.”

Erza, “Someone’s eager…”

“Yeah!” the blonde male glares back, “to finish this once and for all so we can move the fuck on!”

Two hours later, the group finally reaches the cave entrance and low and behold there she is curled up in the same spot she and Natsu had slept the first night they had met.  Natsu rushes over, hugging desperately to Lucy.  “You scared the hell out of me!  Why’d you leave the palace?”  She lifts her head to nuzzles him back, “Never mind, I’m just glad your safe.”

Pulling back, he kisses her nose, “We’ve got all the keys,” and smooths her muzzle, “shall we get you back to normal?”  She nods, “I agree.”  

Levy rummages through a small bag she had been carrying and pulls out the spell book, “Alright, where are the items you were sent to retrieve, bring them to me.”  

Each of the guys walk up with their pieces, Gray, the Jewel of Reflection, Sting, the Elixir of Contrition, and finally Natsu, with the Verity Chalice.  “Natsu, hold up the cup,” he does as he’s told, “now Gray put the jewel in,” dropping it in with a clang, “Sting, pour in the elixir.”

She takes the cup in one hand and with the help of Cana holding the book open for her and Erza a glow wand, so she can see the words, the trio of women make their way over to Lucy as Levy begins to recite the incantation.

“Gia na sas metamorfósoume píso stin anthrópini morfí sas, boreí i exiléosi aftón ton anthrópon na anoíxei to drómo kai afíste tin alítheia na sas afísei eléftheri!  (To transform you back to your human form, may the atonement of these men pave the way, and let the truth set you free!)”  

Levy takes the now glowing liquid to Lucy, “You must drink this, and if Natsu speaks the truth, it will break the spell on you.”

At first Lucy hesitates, a part of her is afraid that he won’t and that might be hard to bear.  If he had truly loved her, why hadn’t he just been honest from the beginning?  Or was what he had done so terrible that it may causes her to leave him, in that case, does she want to be with a man like that?  She starts to turn her head away.  “Lu, you need to…”

A hand falls on Levy’s shoulder and when she turns to look it’s Natsu, “I think…” he hangs his head, “I think I know why she is scared.”  He takes the cup from the girl, “Could you all give us some privacy, please.”

“No way I’m leaving you two…” but now Lucy nudges her friends shoulder, “Are you sure Lu?”  The dragon nods her head.  “Fine, but I’m not leaving the cave.”

Natsu nods, “All I’m asking for is some space.”

Once everyone has moved to the entrance, he kneels in front of Lucy.  “You’re worried… about what the truth will be huh?”  she nods her head.  He exhales, “I won’t lie anymore, it’s not something I am proud of, and even now the fear that you will leave me, when I tell you it’s, it’s…”  she wraps her tail around him as if to say that won’t happen.  “Drink it for me please, baby, I need to do this for you.”

She puffs and nods allowing him to pour the viscous substance into her mouth.  It tastes so gross, shaking her head, once, twice, then stands up, as a peculiar feeling washes over her.  Looking back at him she snorts.  He takes one more deep breath and closes his eyes…

“One night at the barracks, Gray and I were drinking…  He had invited a girl to party with us and after getting drunk I, I…  had sex with her.”  He peaks, with one eye as everyone around them starts to murmur, ‘why isn’t anything happening?’  “Why isn’t it working?” he turns to Levy, “I’ve admitted what I did…”

“How should I know?!  It says if you tell the truth it will breaks the curse.”

‘Unless, I really hadn’t…’  “Maybe it wasn’t true…” he looks at Gray and Sting, “You guys told me I had sex with her!”

Gray screams back, “Well that’s what looked like happened!  Damn it…”

Sting, “That means…  what we did,” he looks at Gray, “was for nothing?  I, I scared that poor girl, for nothing!” grabbing Gray by the shirt, “all because you assumed!”

“Hey, they were both half naked, what the hell else was I supposed to think?!”

“Could you two just shut it!” he turns back to Lucy, “I was too drunk to remember… but this means I didn’t have sex with her!  That’s the truth!  God, I should have trusted my own feelings from the beginning…”

Lucy’s body begins to glow, just like Natsu’s had when his curse had broken and slowly, the form of a girl, albeit a naked one began to take shape.  In a panic, Natsu pulls his coat off and starts screaming to everyone to turn around as he places it on her prone body.  

Once the glowing subsides, he cradles her in his arms.  “Lucy…  wake up for me baby…  Please wake up…”

“Na…tsu…” a meek voice finally breaks the still of the cave.

“Oh, thank God!” hugging her tightly to him, “You’re back, I’ve got you back!”

“Natsu…” she reaches up to caress his cheek, “I was afraid, but I never would have left your side…  I fell in love with the man you became after that happened, and don’t be mad at your friends, they were only trying to protect you.”

“I promise you Luce, I will never, ever do anything so stupid…”

She smiles, “Now that is probably a lie, try sticking to the truth.”

He grins, “Alright,” kissing her lips, “I’m gonna spend the rest of my life trying to keep you happy.”

“Promise?”

[spindashed]

(via https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y1dV4YriZVM)

Over time, if you follow my blog, you will see me write “counter articles” in response to the fandom, and non-fandom videos, reviews... etc.

Lets begin!

1.) “Have an actual story this time.” I can partially agree with this.  I do agree that having a in-depth story per console game adds to the value of the experience. More so than stories that are short and simplistic. Sonic Unleashed had an amazing story, and it’s gameplay was great!  I loved the daytime stages, and I personally LOVED the nighttime stages too!(The werehog was a nice touch, it gave flavour to the story, and it had a very “God of War” vibe to it, both the game mechanics and the fact that you had to solve puzzles.. Huge points from myself especially since I love the God of war series.) That said! phrasing your first rant with: “Have an actual story this time.” Is quite an ignorant statement.. 

I strongly feel you’re grasping at straws with this one, because I could easily sit here and list the “actual stories” from each game. Sure some games had shorter plots, or plots that weren’t seriously in-depth like Unleashed, but there are stories there. Saying otherwise is just straight up ignorant.  Besides! Sometimes simplicity is best.

2.) “Only put fan favourite characters in the game’s story if it’s for a legitimate purpose, however, no more of the ‘The adventures of Sonic and Tails’.” This one is a funny subject. When Sega had Sonic’s friends in game as playable’s, there came a point where   people were LITERALLY bitching and complaining about how they’re so sick and tired of Sonic’s friends!!!! That all they wanted was “SONIC” as a playable..

Now that Sonic has been the only playable in most games, fans are now complaining about how they want Sonic’s friends back.. Smh.

For some fans, having certain characters as playable’s (I.e. Shadow.), would bring a lot of joy... Fortunately with myself, I’ve been a Sonic fan since 1991, and usually have a preference to only use Sonic, so I’m personally happy with Sonic only games. But my personal preference aside; I think it’s safe to say fans of specific characters would be far happier to see their favourites appear even if they are NPC’s (Non playable characters) oppose to them not appearing whatsoever..  In my personal opinion, I’d say if Sega/Sonic Team decide to have a NPC appear, they should have them doing something, even if it’s an Easter egg kind of thing in the background for fans to catch.

3.) “Don’t reply too much on nostalgia.” Alright! Green Hill Zone crybabies need to get over themselves. Wahhh, Green Hill Zone is back... Why! Wahhhh.. Are you sure you’re even a Sonic fan? The Green Hill Zone was LITERALLY the FIRST stage in the series!  It was brought back, because it’s timeless it’s iconic just like Sonic himself. The Green Hill Zone is like Mario’s Mushroom Kingdom, like Cloud Strife’s Midgard, like Link’s Hyrule... I can go on..  Not to mention: It has COMPLETE justification to reappear in Sonic Forces, considering it’s where Classic Sonic spends a lot of his time. (This has been verified by direct source: “Sonic revisit GHZ often, because he really likes that Zone.”)

If Classic Sonic is brought back to the present time, where else would you expect him to be found? Gtfo.

(Green Hill Zone) “A lot of us are getting sick of it..”

Speak for yourself. I should also note, the most vocal fans in our fandom, often also tend to be the haters.. The same crybabies that whine about everything.(Wahhh Sonic’s eyes are green. Wahhh Sonic’s arms are blue...)

4.) “Stage to stage is fine, but if you’re gonna have a hub don’t be lazy with it.”

a.) I loved Sonic Unleashed too. I give you that.

b.) If you actually played the game in full, and paid attention to the concept of the story, you’d understand that the hub world stages being completely “white” was justified, and even when you bring life back into it, the background stays white because Time Eater FUCKING ATE TIME!

If there is nothing left in existence other than pocket zones (a.k.a the hub worlds.), it’s either going to be white space, or black space. Deal with it.

c.) Sonic Generations was one of the best games of the modern era... I think based on what the game was in it’s overall entirety, we can cut the hub world’s details some slack. Besides, what glorious games have you made? Talk is cheap, remember this.

5.) “No stupid cringe worthy jokes.” Alrighty, I can agree with this one.  Knowing how to blend good humour in with the right action and seriousness is key for greatness.

I feel that because Sega has begun aiming the games at a younger audience, despite the fact that the younger audience of today actually play the same “serious” games that we adults play..  The jokes can come off a bit much sometimes.  I’ve been a long time reader of the Archie comics (Which I’m sad to see it’s probably been canceled.) That said, I’d enjoy seeing Ian Flynn write for Sonic games, I think he’d be a wicked asset to the games.

6.) “If you’re going to have Wisps be more creative and actually make them fun.” I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again! For people who ACTUALLY play the games.. They obviously served a purpose in “Sonic Colours” storyline.

It was literally explained in “Sonic Runners”, why the Wisps were still in Sonic’s world. (After the events of Sonic Colours, some Wisps liked Sonic’s world so much, they decided to stay on earth/mobius.)

In Sonic Lost World, they were completely optional to use or not. Plus Wisps are basically items/power ups. KEY WORDS: “Optional to use.”

I don’t see anyone complaining about it when Mario uses his reoccurring power ups, so why must Sonic fans be so cringe.. And lastly, I’m starting to think people in our fandom are headass af..  This time around, in Sonic Forces, the Wisps aren’t there like they have been in the past. They are now “Wispons” as in they power up “Avatar’s” gadgets. (Maybe spend less time complaining, and pay a little more attention to the content revealed.. smh.) 

The fact that people are actually complaining about basically an item/power up, which the Wisps literally are; is as headass beyond words as can be..

7.) “Make sure the custom character feature lives up to the hype.”

a.) Sega literally stated “Avatar” (Which is what Sega calls him/her.) plays a heavy role in the events/story of Sonic Forces. Again you would know this if you actually paid attention over flapping lips.

b.) Sega/Aaron Webber also literally stated that the Avatar character doesn’t actually talk, voice actors have been hired, and they do grunt and have voicing to some extent. This may or may not be something that will change. But as far as things go at the moment, they won’t have any real lines.

c.) Avatar is each person’s PERSONAL OC, which literally means, if Avatar doesn't live up to the hype, you as a player failed. Sega is simply giving fans a tool, it’s up to the fans on how to use it.

8.) “Have a Super Sonic final boss fight.” I agree having Super Sonic in the games is fun, mostly because I love Sonic including each of his forms..  But I find this one ironic, because you were literally just complaining about how Green Hill Zone has been back too many times, and how the Wisps were back again.. And yet you want “Super Sonic” to be just that. (Perfect example of the crybaby logic at it’s best.)  Thank you for proving my point. *Thumb up!*

9.) “Try as hard as you possibly can to not make the game short.” I think you should go try to make your own game.  It’s easy to talk, but if you have no experience in the industry that’s quite the ignorant statement man..  But don’t get me entirely wrong. I understand where you’re coming from. Games are not cheap these days, and feeling like we have some good content to really dig deep into goes a long way.

10.) “No stupid power up that spawns when you die too much so you can skip ahead to the next checkpoint. Not only does activating it happen on accident, but it’s like the game is holding my hand.” It’s funny, because Mario games have an option where if you die around 3 times, you have the option to let Luigi complete the stage for you. (I.e. skip the stage.)  And no one complains about that. The only catch from what I understand is skipping a stage in a Mario game will keep you from unlocking everything in-game.  I think it’s a pretty fair, or good optional thing to have.

11.) “Either change Sonic’s Voice or Roger Craig Smith Improves.” Jason Griffin was one of my favourite voice actors, no doubt! But Roger isn’t all that bad. Not to mention the voice actors do actively try to improve, but they’re also doing what Sega directs them to do. As far as I’m concern, this is a complaint based on bias, and is not worthy of the “my opinion” title.

12.) “Have a moment in the story that somewhat shocks the player.” Plot twist are great, but when you have fans that wear the “expect card” right on their forehead, even if Sega comes up with a pretty good plot twist, I’m sure the fans will find something to complain about. (Notice 99% of your video is a big complaint?) 

13.) ”Have Unleashed-esque presentation.” I can agree with you on how epic Sonic Unleashed was all day. And I would love a “Unleashed-esque” presentation/depth to all the games. But lets be real, you and I both know the loud people in our fandom will find something to complain about regardless.

14.) “Don’t be kiddy.” I’ve been saying this one for a long time now. Sonic should always be catered to us long time old fans. The younger fans will come into the fandom on their own.

One of the hottest games for people was the “Call of Duty” games. Despite being rated for the older crowd, I cannot begin to tell you how many underaged kids were playing these.

My point is, kids like what we older fans like.  (I should also note, I have never cared for the COD games.)

15.) “Make the gameplay more open than in previous games.” “Sonic Boom Rise of Lyric” was an open world game.

It was also meant to be a much fuller and in-depth game, but due to being rushed, and having to have massive game content cuts, it ended up being what it was. (Check out Sonic Synergy. What Sonic Boom RoL was meant to be, and it looks amazing.)

16.) “Fix the Ranking System.” This is the first time I’ve heard anyone complain about the rank system...

This one is also a ironic one, because if you check out the Mario games, those games are some of the easiest brain dead games you can play..... People eat them up, and yet when Sonic is time to time easier going, it’s a bad thing? Smh.

17.) “Fix the Ranking system animations.”  This one is a bit better of an opinion.  I did enjoy how Sonic would react to the rank in Unleashed, and how the music was dictated based on your play quality.

(I feel this one was an actual constructive criticism. Thus I accept this one.)

18.) “Have Crush 40.” There have been a few games without Crush 40 that had some real great OSTs. “Sonic Unleashed” was one of them. What I will say with this one is: I’d love more rock and even metal tracks in future games.. 

19.) “Have actual boss fights this time.” I’m pretty sure we’ll get a good serving of decent boss fights with Sonic Forces. 

20.) “Fix the Classic Sonic Physics.” a.) Plenty of people wanted Classic Sonic back. And when Sega brought him back, being true to the cringe our fandom is judged on, the crybabies haters started pushing the bandwagon for all who wanted a ride...

b.) Classic Sonic had pretty damn well the play style he had in the classic games, I think you’ve lost your damn mind.

(*Note: I should add, anyone who dislikes Classic Sonic is headass.  Without Classic Sonic, there would be no Modern Sonic. Respect the roots.)

21.) “Don’t make the final boss Eggman.” I’m not sure if I want to slap you or strangle you for this one.

Eggman is Sonic’s fucking nemesis. Get over yourself. Mario has Bowser, Cloud has Sephiroth, Ryu has Bison, Megaman has Dr.Wily, Blah blah blah blah.. The list goes on forever.

Every Super hero has his main villain. And it’s not ALWAYS Eggman. Sonic has fought other main bosses just as equally as everyone else in their own respective games.

22.) “Eliminate the lives system.” SMFH! That’s all I can do for this one.

This is by far one of the most ridiculous things I've ever heard. I guess every other game best get rid of the lives system too right? Get the fuck outta here.

24.) “Put the Chaos Emeralds in the story.” Adding the Chaos Emeralds for the sake of adding them for what tiny fan service addition they give to the story, just like throwing in Super Sonic for the mere fan service would be literally no different from just throwing random Sonic friends into the story for mere fan service, your arguments are literally contradictory as fuck. Smh.

25.) “No false Advertising.” As mentioned earlier: Sonic Boom was what it was strictly because the game was rushed, and “Big Red Button” literally got a last minute notice that it was for the weaker system compared to what they had been making it for. Thus the game had significant content cuts, and was released incomplete.

Hence why Sega literally gave a public apology.

26.) “Bring back humans to raise the stakes.” Humans have both appeared and been absent across games. This will not make a difference to overall game quality so once again, this is a ridiculous complaint.

27.) Just make a good Sonic game please, is that too much to ask?” a.) Sonic fan’s expressing their opinions makes the game better ONLY if it’s constructive criticism! The games will not ever be better when the bitching and complaining is void of a positive point to improve said game. (i.e. “the constructive” part.).

b.) “I call it actually caring.” *See 27a. If you still cannot comprehend that, might I suggest getting a cat scan? 

28.) “I’m in grade school.” Why is it, school kids always seem to think they know it all. lmao.

29.) “This is not a Sonic hate video.” Than how about making a video with a overall positive tone. This entire video was nothing but the same tired bs.. Complain, complain, complain.

Try talking about what you love, and if you’re going to give constructive criticism, back it up with a positive fix. 

This fandom is already far too full of haters, and bandwagon riders that can’t think for themselves, we don’t need any more of that cringe.

“Sonic is my SECOND favourite game franchises.” Of course it is. 

*Closing Note: The Sonic hate, complaining for the sake of complaining, and constant negative tone with out purposeful point is tired af guys. It’s also far from cool. Don’t be a bandwagon baby.

If you are in this fandom, and all you think of is negativity when Sonic comes to mind, it’s time to leave the fandom and never come back.

[lovelyirony]

Criminals AU

@tonystarktogo lmao hey sorry but I love this AU??? i won’t do it the justice it deserves, but here’s my interpretation of it: 

Tony’s only consolation in life was the fact that not one boy, but three boys wanted to date him. Otherwise, his life was shitty as ever. Stane Industries sucked. The only reason he was in it was because the technology was slightly better than the other competing brand, and Hammer outright refused to hire him. (Something about Starks and Hammers always being rivals. What a dick.) The pay was awful, and Obie pretended like Tony was still a little kid. He wasn’t, and he knew exactly what Obadiah was doing. The only problem was, no one believed Tony when he told them that Obadiah Stane was doing dirty deals. So he kept quiet about it, occasionally checking in with the FBI office about it. the stupid officers didn’t think that he was telling the truth. He didn’t have enough evidence. 

So crime was forgotten about for a while when he first met Steve. Steve was working as a barista at a coffee shop, and had yelled at a customer for trying to grab a lady’s ass. Steve didn’t look more than 105 pounds, but he packed a voice and speeches that seemed to be written on the spot. (His friend Sam said that his valedictorian speech was so beautiful that their hardass principal (who had an eyepatch how fucking cool is that) smiled. 

Steve, it turns out, had two other boyfriends: Bucky and T’Challa. At first, this caused a lot of Bad Complications that Generally Did Not Go Well for Everyone. But Tony doesn’t focus on that because eventually things worked out and now he’s with the whole crew now! He loves it (them). 

The thing that Tony does not know is the fact that Bucky, T’Challa, and Steve are really criminals. Yeah, Bucky has a lot of tattoos and chops onions better than anyone else Tony knows, but he’s also killed over a dozen men and women and also has no remorse for a Thing That Happened in Russia. (With love.) Steve is great at art and has a couple pieces that sold at the last art fair, and he also can talk for hours about how great Hedy Lamarr is, (without her we wouldn’t have Wi-Fi! Fun fact) but Steve forges everything for a living. He can forge the Queen of England’s signature. T’Challa, while baking the best damned chocolate cake Tony has ever had and always talks science with Tony when Bruce can’t hang, is a cat burglar. Fact of the matter is, he could and would steal the Statue of Liberty. But Tony doesn’t know all this. 

And honestly??? they would kind of like to keep it that way. Their beautiful boyfriend, who has the mind the likes that no one has seen since Obadiah locked it away, who makes fun of Rembrandt and Einstein and refers to Madame Curie as if he personally knows her, cannot know that his boyfriends are internationally wanted for crimes that aren’t really crimes so much as vigilante justice. 

What makes things worse is the fact that Tony has the most dangerous friends. He made friends with one of the top FBI agents, Pepper Potts. She’s had the best record for four years straight. Tony says that she likes tequila and knitting, adn that’s all he said. T’Challa nearly fainted when he saw the woman in the apartment, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, discussing the merits of wine from California versus wine from Italy. 

And then, they met Rhodey. Even if they didn’t know his history, the man would be terrifying. He already threatened each of them, and he doesn’t even know that they’re, you know, criminals. Steve ended up researching him, and he’s a man that has no existence. Absolutely none. Even Bucky has a little bit of a trail. Rhodey? Nope. There’s no proof he was ever alive. 

Of course, there’s also Bruce Banner. He’s a shy IT consultant, and they thought he would be the normal friend. He is not. Bruce has...anger issues. To get those out, he joined an underground fight club and is known as “Hulk.” He also has a thing for hacking secret government websites, not that Tony knows about that. But the others do. 

Finally, Natasha. She’s scary in the fact that she shows almost no emotion, she’s a PI with one of the best reputations, and she knows everything. Even the criminal thing. That’s mainly because a.) Steve sucks at hiding things and b.) Steve sucks at undercover. (Bucky and T’Challa are trying, goddammit.) 

It’s a lot to take in, a lot to hide. Tony cannot know that they’re trying to take down his boss, because Tony has this weird habit of going “I owe everyone everything because of some self-sacrificial reason.” He’s worse than Bucky in that regard. But they like him, and they’ll do anything to make sure that Stane is put down. 

This includes date night going nearly terribly because they catch sight of Obadiah Stane at their restaurant and are frantically trying to get him to not see them. In the end, T’Challa bumps into him, grabs his keycard for Stane Industries, and they pay the bill. 

After they wish Tony goodnight, they have a break-in. The security is honestly one of the worst in the world, and the only reason that they’re still standing is because Tony works until three in the morning sometimes to keep them out. It’s tiring, stressful, and he’s great at it. But he doesn’t get paid overtime. 

“Move over,” Steve hisses at Bucky. “I’m the one with the small fingers, let me type.” 

“You also have shit vision even with your glasses or contacts, so no,” Bucky says right back. 

“I love both of you, but neither of you know how to type using the homerow method,” T’Challa answers simply. “I’ll do it.” 

And then the light flicks on. 

“Hey boys,” Tony answers simply. Their mouths are open. “What, thought I wouldn’t catch on that you’re trying to hack into Stane Industries and ruin his reputation?” 

“Let us?” Steve asks. “I could write about thirty-six pages on why your boss sucks, sorry babe, but--” 

“I know that,” Tony says with an eyeroll. “But I have something planned. Tomorrow is the party he throws every year with his executives. It’s kind of one of those things where people at home can see how weirdly expensive things are and how much money rich people waste. I’m planning on the presentation being every single crime he’s committed in a four-year window. You in?” 

“From when you said ‘I know that,’ I was already in. How did you figure us out?” T’Challa asks. 

“No offense, but you guys suck at hiding it. Even you, Bucky.” The man with the tattoos pouts. “I have a friend who works for the FBI and has some of her best friends in the CIA. Rhodey shouldn’t even exist, Natasha has ties to the Russian mob and knows everything about everyone, and Bruce...he can break bones and security networks. Safe to assume you guys are a piece of cake.” They smile. 

“You’ll be a great addition,” Bucky adds. 

“We’ve never had a computer genius before,” T’Challa prompts. 

“We’ll see,” Tony says. “For now, I need to get a suit. I want to look great while Obadiah Stane is dying on the podium from horror.” 

[theliterateape]

American Shithole #9 — Robert Mercer, Part One: Cambridge Analytica

By Eric Wilson

In what may prove to be the undercover investigation of the early 21st century, the BBC4 exposé on Cambridge Analytica has blown the roof off a story that had long gone dormant. The hidden camera footage is career-defining, and the transcript reads like the Darwin Awards for Espionage. It’s jaw dropping in scope and stupidity, and it feels a bit like you’re watching two proper devils talk shop in hell.

Posing as potential clients, journalists secretly filmed Cambridge Analytica officials describing how their company rigs world elections. I still can’t believe it — they probably can't believe it — but these sweet BBC geniuses basically Scooby Doo’d Cambridge Analytica. Enjoy your place in the annals of journalistic legend, you deserve it. 

Well done, Shaggy! 

The twitterverse was experiencing twittergasms, as word had gotten out on the segment before it aired. Perhaps it was more of a Twitterquake, as you could feel the tremors across social media in anticipation. In our age of big stories, this was bigger, and you could sense it on Monday morning before the news broke.

As far as the video is concerned, it’s a must watch — one where operatives from Cambridge Analytica, including CEO, Alexander Nix, describe the legal and illegal tactics they use to manipulate supposedly free elections all over the world. Note the calmness with which they speak, it really is captivating in its cold, calculative way.

A second installment of the BBC4 investigation aired a day later, and it brought to light Cambridge Analytica’s critical role in the success of the Trump presidential campaign. They were far from humble. In this hidden camera video Alexander Nix and other CA operatives actually take credit for Trump’s victory. 

It would seem that if there is an election happening, Cambridge Analytica is there — working angles, using sex slaves as honey traps, blackmailing enemies, manipulating big data, all safely from the shadows. Well, it's not so safe in the shadows anymore, Nix.

The BBC isn’t the only one on the case.

While that was amazing work by the team at BBC4, American Shithole has its own crack team of investigative journalists, and our operatives — working deep undercover — were able to procure a top secret list of other gifts and services Cambridge Analytica reserved for its highest paying clients.

Dictators brought to power by Cambridge Analytica may also have received:

1.  Buy 9 elections get 1 free* Customer Loyalty Card.

2.  Subscription to Children’s War Refugee Monthly magazine.

3.  Slovenian Sex Slave First Lady Platinum Upgrade.

4.  Super PAC Mystery Sack!™**

5.  First time dictators received a signed copy of Howard Zinn’s So, You’ve Bought Yourself a Country, Have You?

6.  Handmade Russian lamp for presidential office desk.***

7.  Children’s War Refugee Monthly complimentary pinup calendar.

8.  The American President DVD case with a ripped copy of Wag the Dog inside.

*Please refer to your customer loyalty card owner’s manual for rules regarding free election eligibility. **Super PAC Mystery Sack!™ is a subsidiary of Mystery Sack! International and may contain foreign politics. ***Lamp must be on the desk facing the president at all times.

The one name I was expecting to hear more in the media  this week was Robert Mercer.

Unfortunately, there was little to no mention of the Mercers, as Cambridge Analytica faced a torrential downpour of bad press, day after day. It’s been a fucking shitstorm in the blogosphere on both sides of the Atlantic (more on this later), but the lion’s share of the focus has been on the company and its senior officer, Nix.

It astounds me how this family of billionaires seems to so effectively manipulate their own media presence — even when one of their own companies is embroiled in a scandal involving election tampering, criminal behavior, and international conspiracy.

CNN’s Don Lemon barely mentioned the Mercers by name on Monday, during his interview with the Cambridge Analytica whistleblower, Christopher Wylie — while Steve Bannon, former Mercer lackey and Pigpen from the Upside Down, was mentioned at least a dozen times.

If you are going to talk about a company that was clearly influential in the Trump victory, maybe you should mention the asshole that owns 90 percent of the stock — mega GOP/Trump donor and serious contender for all-time Shitbag of the Universe, Robert Mercer. Or perhaps his daughter, who currently sits on the CA board of directors.

That is some Obi Wan level Jedi mastery right there. These are not the billionaires you are looking for.

But they are the billionaires we are looking for! Here they are behaving terribly, and we as dutiful wealth-worshipping Americans let them get away with it every single time. We let them game the broken system to serve their greed, and strip resources, and ruin communities, and rig fucking elections — and we worship them for the effort.

We allow them to continually commit crimes against humanity, and now we are allowing them to systematically dismantle democracy. Yet somehow we are blinded by their wealth, as if greed were some sort of cherished American virtue, this richness that absolves all sin.

The past few days I’ve looked for news stories on Robert Mercer; passing mentions at best, with very few interviews or articles focusing on the individual  that owns the company that just may be responsible for both Brexit and Trump.

Yes, if you are a little late to this developing story, so was I, but you are reading that correctly.

Cambridge Analytica has also been connected to Brexit, possibly the worst development in the UK in a half-century — that is, if you don’t count the invention of modern-day reality television a development. Thanks, Brits, we took your reality TV, and after over thirty years we have reduced it to what is now a stupefying slog through a kaleidoscope of spirit-dampening white-hot noise and eye vomit.

But I digress.

If a billionaire’s company can orchestrate Brexit and the Trump presidency, via numerous illegal activities — and the billionaire gets away with it — this is a message to all would be tyrants that the upper echelon of the ruling class may do anything they please, with no fear of consequence.

We are talking about crimes with ripple effects so pervasive, so widespread and far-reaching, that it would be impossible to calculate the damage done, or the punishment deserved.

In this humble American’s opinion, anything less than a massive devaluation of the Mercer family, and jail time for both Robert and his diamond-bespectacled harpy of a daughter, Rebekah, would be an invitation to every two-bit, hustler, billionaire tyrant on the planet to treat entire countries like their own personal political stomping ground.

Not that they aren't doing that already.

This might make Robert Mercer the reigning Worst Person on the Planet. I cannot think of two events in recent history that have sown more discord, created more havoc than Brexit and Trump.

I get Mercer isn’t news sexy. I don't want to write about him either — it’s like trying to write negative copy about Mr. Rogers. By comparison, I was chomping at the bit to eviscerate Cambridge Analytica CEO, Alexander Nix. He so plays the part of the Bond Villain to perfection. I imagine he likely has a few rather unpleasant appetites as well. I could write jokes about him for days.

The real villain here though, is Robert Mercer, and by proxy or association, his ogress fishwife of a daughter, Rebekah. Look at the two of them. They look like they’re about to preside over the fucking Hunger Games.

So who is this charming prince, you ask? Tough to say, as he leads a largely private life.

The few that know the reclusive billionaire describe him as a quiet loner. I already see where this is going. He lives with his many cats. Uh-oh. He hates the establishment, and was thoroughly convinced long ago of all the craziest conspiracy theories involving the Clintons. Oh, boy.

And like all billionaires, his power has increased manifold since Citizens United, and Mercer has taken advantage of that, as one of the most generous GOP donors over the last eight years.

What we have is another crazy-rich asshole using his gross overvaluation to fund shadow companies that rig world elections. Including ours. I struggle to find the reasons why we value these billionaire cretins so? 

Is this misguided misanthrope single-handedly responsible for the destabilization of the west? No. Hardly. It’s not for lack of trying though. Mercer's just plodding along, money-murdering everything decent in his path. He’s like Jason Voorhees in a suit.

No, Mercer has plenty of help. There's another name that always seems to turn up whenever you cast light into the shadows. Erik Prince is linked to Cambridge Analytica as well, and at this point I’m no longer surprised to see his name when investigating criminal activity.

I look forward to the day when our value system better reflects the compassion of the species we long to be, versus the greed of the humanity we desperately need to leave behind.   

Mueller’s widening investigation now thankfully includes Cambridge Analytica, and that may finally shed some light onto why certain republicans seem willing to do anything to protect this president. The House Intelligence Committee majority republicans ending their investigation into Russian collusion, risks indictment of collusion itself. We need to discover what kind of pressure has been put on elected officials to get them to risk ruining their careers and lives the way Devin Nunes and the rest of the House Intelligence Committee majority republicans have, with their shameful cowardice.

This is good news, my friends. The brilliant undercover work by the BBC has done more to connect the dots between various forces at play, than any other investigation breakthrough so far. Everything is starting to come into focus — even with the Mercers doing everything they can to keep this out of the media — which means it will be harder for republicans that may have been compromised, to continue to support this morally bankrupt administration.

Also, it might be time to dust off your Myspace account, because Facebook is Face-fucked.

B.S. Report

I wanted to draw attention this week to a story already in the rearview. For whatever reason it was several days before I caught wind that Republican Leslie Gibson had, among other things, dismissed student activist Emma Gonzalez as a “skinhead lesbian.”

For obvious reasons, many in America (such as myself) feel very protective of these kids. I get really fired up about them. I pissed and moaned that I had missed the story, and I was ranting a bit on social media how this asshole Gibson needed a social media handshake, or a nice hello from the world.

It wasn’t an hour later that the universe calmed my sputtering fit. I was informed much had been put in motion, and that Gibson's words had encouraged a challenger for his run for congress (he was running unopposed), and not long after that, he announced he was dropping out of the race.

I thought this deserved more focus for the power of it. The raw power being rightfully transferred from a hateful, bigoted asshole — back to the people, where they would choose to give it to someone worthy. And that is what I am talking about, America!