#do besides give up radicalize

[h377b7iss]

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[mortalityplays]

Unprintable: Artists Against Authority

I am absolutely beside myself with excitement to announce the launch of Unprintable.

Unprintable is an online free shop, where original artwork and arts resources are released into the public domain.

Everything listed here is free to use, copy and remix any way you like. You can print off hi-res artwork to decorate your apartment, or to use in your own projects. You can use the writing in your own zines, anthologies or performances. You can put it on a t-shirt. You can read it on the radio. You can paint it on a truck. It's up to you, entirely and forever.

The collection will be updated continuously, on an unfixed schedule, with contributions from a wide range of named and anonymous artists and activists. You can read the FAQ for a full rundown of what Unprintable is and why it exists, but these are the really important parts:

Can I download/print/use the work listed here? Yes. Can I use it for [X]? You can do whatever you want with it forever. But what if I want to [Y]? You can do whatever you want with it forever. Why do this? A few reasons: 1. We want a space to just share things, no strings attached. We recognise that copyright is an irrational system that was designed to protect the profit interests of publishing middlemen and IP hoarders. In fact, copyright is often weaponised against the creators it pretends to protect. As long as it exists, we are unlikely to win any other form of protection for our work, and we are profoundly limited from engaging in the kind of communal artistic and storytelling practices that were the norm around the world for thousands of years. 2. Radical art is often unprintable. Profit motives make people cautious. A lot of print-on-demand or local print shop services will refuse artwork with controversial, sensitive or political content. This is very frustrating when these themes are the focus of so much of our work (and indeed our lives). Rather than waste any more breath trying to explain why a trans artist might want to print the word ‘faggot’, we can give our work away for free. Got a printer? It’s yours. 3. It feels good. Sharing is joyful. It’s the reason we love making things in the first place. We don’t write poems because we look forward to filleting them for consumption, or layer colours so that we can sell a canvas by the ounce. We have only ever wanted to be able to support ourselves so that we can make, but that relationship is deeply dysfunctional under capitalism. We made these things, and we want you to have them. It doesn’t need to be complicated.

I'll write up some more posts introducing the launch collection soon. In the meantime...be free, enjoy, explore, have fun!

https://free.mortalityplays.com

[hangingslothcentral]

Yesterday was International Podcast Day and I completely didn't notice because our boiler broke so I spent the whole day trying to field progress on getting a new one whilst being Very Cold. But I've things to say!

Audio drama tends to get overlooked at big podcasting events. It often feels like we're treated like the odd and slightly embarrassing cousin of nonfiction podcasting. In part this is because advertisers haven't quite worked out what to do with us yet.

In a lot of ways, this industry is very old, if you trace its roots to radio drama.

To me, though, audio drama feels like it's been stitched together from radio drama's remains. It shares a lot of the same parts, but it's a fundamentally different individual, just as Frankenstein's monster is something else besides a bunch of bits of other people sewn together.

From that perspective, then, audio drama is very YOUNG. We're an industry that's still cutting its teeth. Tiny indie shows can pop up in your feed next to massive industry giants, like your aunt's home-movie being listed on Netflix next to David Fincher's last film.

I think over the next few years we're likely to see a radical change in the way that we consume and make audio drama. There will be benefits and drawbacks to it, I'm sure, but it has felt to me like change is on the wind for some time now.

Audio is a fantastic medium to write for, presenting its own unique challenges and pitfalls. Anyone who writes ought to give it a go, even if they've no intention of actually making an audio drama. It'll challenge you to develop new descriptive strategies!

The medium of audio drama has so much to offer in so many ways. The way this media is engaged with by the audience can be incredibly intimate. It's got so much scope and such broad potential. However the space changes in the coming years, I'm eager to see what it offers us.

[vettelsvee]

AFTERGLOW | Mick Schumacher

f1 masterlist | wattpad | ao3 | instagram

mick schumacher x vettel!reader

summary: mick's girlfriend knows that something's wrong with him. after talking to her dad and her stepmother, she decides to face her boyfriend.

word count: 2956

warnings: angst. bad language. mick being aggressive. use of y/n.

you can send your one shots requests here! feedback, as well as comments and reblogs, are truly appreciated!

If Sebastian's retirement announcement had hurt you, the way you boyfriend had been acting towards you, for no apparent reason, hurt even more. 

You were on you father's terrace, with your legs stretched out on a chair in front of you and the sun shining on your face as you watched the latest news about Taylor Swift. Beside you, Hanna was tending to her baby, who was in her arms playing with a small plush toy you bought her that surprisingly become her favorite. Sebastian appeared out of nowhere carrying a tray full of snacks and drinks, which he carefully placed on the table before immediately caressing the heads of the women in his life. The German sat beside his wife facing you, his eldest daughter.

As much as you enjoyed visiting your family for no reason, today's visit had a reason with a name and surname: Mick Schumacher. Since both of you had finally decided to start a romantic relationship, everything had been a bed of roses. However, the past few weeks have been hell. The boy's behavior towards you had changed radically. What used to be a daily routine filled with laughter, gratitude and support had turned into distance and avoidance, as if they you college students living together during the school year because they had no other choice.

Before starting to speak, you poured yourself some lemonade that Vettel had made hours earlier with her, and took a slight sip despite being really thirsty. You felt nervous as you began to initiate the conversation, but the warm looks you father and stepmother were giving you helped you relax.

"I need to share something with you," you began, "because if I don't tell someone, I feel like I'm going to end everything I've fought for all this time. Plus, I feel like you're the ones who can help me the most in this regard," you added.

The couple exchanged curious looks, not knowing what you were referring to. Any idea passed through Hanna's mind, while the Aston Martin driver could only think of the possibility that his little one might be pregnant. Hanna could see the panic in her husband's face; she simply placed her free hand on the German's thigh and gently caressed it, trying to calm him down. They shouldn't jump to conclusions too quickly, and that seemed to be what his wife was telling him as she gave Sebastian a glance.

"I've noticed that Mick has been behaving very strangely lately," you began to explain. "I don't know what's going on in his head, but we hardly talk, we don't usually go out of the house like we used to and... well, let's say we don't show as much affection to each other anymore," you said apologetically, trying not to get angry at the laughter your father was making. "I feel like the Mick I've known all this time has been just a mirage, and I don't know what to do about it."

Sebastian and Hanna exchanged knowing looks, and the woman let him speak first.

"Y/N, I understand what you mean, but you have to know the pressure Mick faces daily," the blonde explained lovingly. "Formula 1 is like that: it doesn't just drag you, but also those you love the most. Your boyfriend has many eyes on him, and as if that weren't enough, he bears the responsibility of carrying on his father's legacy."

The older blonde agreed with her husband. She passed the little one to Seb, got up quickly and sat next to you,now cry out of frustration, and started to caress your hair lovingly as a comfort.

"Your father is right, Y/N, and I have to agree with him because I've been with him for almost twenty years," Hanna commented. "Every person has a completely different way of dealing with stress. Sebastian used to yell at me every time he breathed, and look," she pointed at him, "here we are. Some people open up to anyone they meet, and others shut themselves off to avoid worrying those they love the most," she stated. "Just because Mick isn't like he was a few weeks ago doesn't mean his feelings towards you have changed. Sometimes, they just need space and a little time to silence the demons in their heads."

You nodded, taking a sip from the glass you held in your hands to calm your nerves. You let out a sigh you had been holding in for quite some time, worried about the possible reaction the two in front of you might have. They continued to talk about more trivial matters, and that conversation, although short, had been very meaningful, was set aside, although not for the girl, who continued to torture herself wondering what she could do to make Mick feel better while listening to talk about baby care and nurseries.

"Thank you, dad. Thank you, Hanna," you replied, getting up from your seat and looking at the adults. "I guess I needed the advice of someone who might have gone through the same thing as I am right now," you objected. "I promise I'll do my best not to despair anymore. I'll let you know when I know more."

The couple got up shortly after you, already heading towards the door, possibly to return to the apartment you shared with Schumacher. Sebastian, still holding the baby, opened the door, unable to say anything else. Hanna, on the other hand, smiled warmly at you and gave you a hug.

"Remember, we're here for you, sweetheart," your father's wife said kindly. "Communication is key in any relationship. If you see that Mick is still not ready to talk about it, give him space, but don't forget to remind him that you're there for whatever he needs."

You nodded and left the residence, leaving the driver and his wife somewhat worried about what could happen between you two.

You opened the door to your home with trembling hands, feeling a pressure in your chest from the concern about the scene your eyes would encounter as soon as you entered.

The first thing that greeted you was the sound of hooves scratching the parquet floor, which soon grew louder as Angie approached rapidly to welcome you home again. You bent down, leaving your belongings aside, and took some time to caress your furry friend, whom you had grown fond of since the moment her owner introduced her to you. While admiring the way the animal's tail moved, you began to hear the running water from the shower, a sign that Mick was home, as you had hoped.

Sitting on the couch and staring at the TV, whose screen was filled with deceptive advertisements for food and clothing, you heard a door open and steps that seemed to be approaching you. You took a deep breath and prepared yourself for what was about to come when you saw her boyfriend walk past you, wearing only a towel wrapped around his waist, drying his hair with another smaller towel.

You decided that things couldn't go on like this, so you approached the boy more angrily than you thought, who was preparing dinner, obviously, just for himself.

"Yes, love, I had a great time with Seb and Hanna. Thanks for asking how my day went!" you shouted sarcastically.

Schumacher turned around, leaving the wooden spoon on the bowl in which his salad was being prepared. Your face was fully red, and your aggressive demeanor reminded him of Sebastian's moments of fury at Red Bull. The German looked at you coldly, and you only felt his blue eyes radiating hatred, something you had never seen in the boy before.

If you weren't up for games that night, neither was Mick.

"I don't care how your day went," the blue-eyed one responded disdainfully, "but if you had such a great time with your perfect family, maybe you should consider moving in with them."

The driver’s statement hurt you more than if you had been stabbed in the stomach. You couldn't believe the words coming out of the mouth of the one you considered the love of your life. When you opened your mouth to reply and yell a thousand worse things at him, the words got stuck in your throat. Schumacher made a move to leave, but you reluctantly took his hand to keep talking to him. For you, things weren't going to stay like this. 

"After everything we've been through to get here, is this how you're paying me back?!" you exploded, releasing all the anger you had accumulated. "Is this the way you planned to treat me from the beginning?"

The driver turned to you, his jaw tense. His arms were crossed, and he was squeezing his clenched fists tighter and tighter.

"I don't know what you're talking about, blondie," he spat with disdain. "If you feel so bad, maybe you should reconsider what this relationship means to you."

You approached him with fury, and began to hit him in the chest with your hands. You were tired of, at any point in your life, the people she loved the most ending up hurting her.

"You have no idea what you mean to me!" you got closer and closer to Mick, who seemed to feel small compared to you. "You became my everything when I had nothing, but now you've become a stranger with whom it would seem ridiculous to say that I've shared traumas from my life that no one knows."

"You have no right to judge me, Y/N!" roared the boy with a voice filled with aggression. "You don't know what I have to face every day: criticism, expectations, my father, you, the team..." He raised his hands in the air as he spoke. "Do you think it's easy being in this messed up world?"

"It's not just about you, Mick!" you exclaimed, tears starting to blur your vision. "It's about us and everything we've been through together!"

Words continued to fly in the room, laden with pain and anger, exchanged between the couple as if in a tennis match. You had reached a point where the argument wasn't focused on trying to resolve whatever was happening between you, but on hurting each other with hurtful comments, fighting to see who could inflict more damage.

"This makes no sense, Y/N," Mick shouted in frustration. His gaze was filled with panic and accumulated anger. He felt it increasingly difficult, at that point in the argument, to contain his rage.

"Love, please, calm down," your voice trembled. "We're not getting anywhere, just giving the neighbors a free show that we'll regret later," you pleaded.

Schumacher didn't relent. He felt a wave of helplessness washing over his body. He reached out his muscular arm and grabbed the first object he could find, a frame with a picture of him with you and Angie on a day you spent in the mountains, and threw it against the wall mercilessly. The sound of impact and shattering glass echoed throughout the room, accompanied by the sobs and gasps of air from the young woman.

You couldn't help but step back, feeling increasing pressure in your chest and filled with fear. You knew the boy was losing control of the situation, and you were afraid it would escalate to physical violence against you. You had experienced that kind of abuse with your mother, and you didn't want to relive it with the same person who once told you that love didn't hurt.

"Mick, stop, this isn't you!" you cried out in anguish. "What's wrong with you?"

The German clenched his fists tighter.

"I've already told you, Y/N: you don't understand! You can't possibly understand. The pressure, the expectations... it's all overwhelming," he sighed anxiously, "and I feel like it's going to break me at any moment."

You approached him slowly, but at a safe distance, in an attempt to calm him down that you hoped wouldn't be in vain.

"We're in this together, sweetheart. Why don't you confide in me instead of shouting at me like a madman in an asylum?"

"Because I don't want you involved in this," Mick looked at you with a mix of anger and pain. "You've had enough worries in your life already."

You went cold, speechless in response. The blonde seemed to have calmed down. Now, his gaze begged you to keep speaking because, if not, he would go crazy at any moment.

"Mick, I love you," you continued as best you could, "and that means I want to be there for you, even in the toughest moments. You can't expect me to walk away when you need me the most."

"It's not that simple, Y/N," the driver paced back and forth, seeking a way to remedy everything he had caused during those weeks of tormenting Gunther. "The pressure is overwhelming, and the comparisons with my father are becoming less bearable," he confessed. "People don't care how hard I try. They always end up making me feel like I’m not good enough."

The blonde took a deep breath, struggling to keep calm while seeing that the root of the problem was surfacing:

"And how do you expect our relationship to work if you shut yourself off? I can't guess what's going on in your head if you don't tell me," you said in a barely audible whisper.

"Because I don't want to be a burden to you!" he retorted. "I don't want you to see me as a failure."

Determined to end all the fuss, you took a step forward and, despite the boy's protests, ended up taking his hands and directing his gaze to yours.

"Mick, you're not a failure: you're human," you said. "Making more or fewer mistakes is completely normal, and I'm here to support you and make you see that," you expressed sincerely. "I don't care what people think or say about you. To me, you'll always be the best at what you do, and there won't be a comment that will change my mind."

He looked at you. Angie had clumsily approached the boy's leg, stroking him and causing him some tickles with her fur, something that made you laugh in that moment of tension.

"What do you want me to do, Y/N? How can I move forward with all this?",

Feeling her resistance beginning to dissipate, you rushed to give him a hug, something the boy didn't reject. You both had missed each other, and the gentle caresses you shared in that brief moment were proof of that.

"Start by trusting me. Share what worries you and what you're afraid of. You don't have to fight alone: you know I'm here for whatever you need."

Mick, with his eyes full of tears threatening to fall, held you tightly to his chest, trying not to hurt you.

"I'm sorry, Y/N," he whispered with a trembling voice, "for everything. My contract with Haas... it's over. Gunther doesn't trust me for next year."

You quickly pulled away from Mick. You had been left in suspense, and your boyfriend's pale face had already given you many clues, such as why he had told you before the cooling of your relationship that he didn't want to continue racing, or how Seb's retirement didn't affect him as much as you had thought it would.

Mick had faced very painful and traumatic experiences, such as his father's accident. However, although his dismissal might seem less significant than the former, for his girlfriend, it was more serious because there was nothing worse than someone compromising your mental health, and that was exactly what Gunther Steiner had been doing to her guy.

You approached him with slow steps and hugged him once again.

"Darling..." you whispered, trying to sound as understanding as possible. "It's okay, alright? Gunther doesn't deserve you. Besides, I'm sure that when something bad ends, something better begins."

Schumacher collapsed into your arms, tears finally escaping from his eyes. The mask he had been wearing for all the previous weeks had finally shattered, revealing a vulnerable version of himself that he didn't want you to discover.

"I feel like a failure," the blonde sobbed with a choked tone due to the tears. "I've fought so hard, I've given everything I have even when I couldn't anymore... and it seems like it's never enough."

You hugged him tighter, tenderly, hearing the boy's quick heartbeats loud and clear.

"You're not a failure, Mick," you revealed to him. "You have so much talent and you can do great things, it's just that you started your career in a crappy team with even crappier treatment," the boy laughed, music to your ears. "This is just a bump in the road, and you and I are going to get through it together."

"I don't know what I'd do without you, love," Mick looked at you tenderly, mentally regretting his behavior over the past few weeks.

"I'll always be here for you, truly," you continued, gently stroking his cheek. "You're so much more than race results, and I won't stop telling you until you believe it, even when you get tired of hearing me say it so much!"

You ended up laughing heartily, initiated by Mick. Maybe you weren't the perfect duo in the eyes of others, but you were for yourselves and those who knew you best.

If the invisible string theory was real, you and Mick were proof of it. You could even say the same about the multiverse hypothesis: in this one, and in millions more, a stubborn blonde couple, no matter the problems you had to face, would end up together, whatever it took.

[aethersea]

still thinking about the trump voter I talked to the other day who was like "well the democrats have had four years to fix things," as proof that clearly they weren't doing that so they weren't worth voting for. and I just. do you think the democrats are our friends? do you think they're a bunch of saints? they're politicians! where did your cynicism go, man, the whole system is corrupt and dishonest and we've always known this. the difference is in degree. the difference is in what they do BESIDES and DESPITE the corruption.

god I just. idk I think this next complaint is old as dirt but people have GOT to stop thinking about politicians as friendly folks who are on your side. miss me with that. you can get that on a local level sometimes, but on a state or federal level, you will have a few radical outliers if you're lucky. a politician is not a buddy. a politician is a person who has power over your life, and a politician is a person doing a job, and it does not and has never fucking mattered if they're someone you could hang out and shoot the shit with! that is not part of their job! that is not the part of your life they have power over! they are not your friends!

the democrats have not fixed the country bc a) there are too many forces working against that, b) fixing a country is a convoluted goddamn problem and it'd take decades, not years, and c) they don't necessarily care all that much! they're just people doing a job! they care mostly about keeping their jobs!

look, there are probably a lot of politicians who do care deeply about helping people. there are also lots of politicians who don't give a fuck, but do a great job pretending they care deeply about helping people because they know that's how they'll get votes. I fundamentally do not care which one of these two people is in power so long as they pass and enforce laws that help people. yeah it'd be nice to have the first person, but so long as shit gets done we'll call it a win.

because there's a third, way more common type of politician, who not only doesn't give a fuck, but knows how to get ahead without actually following through on a single campaign promise. that politician is saying all the right things, just like the other two, but they don't pass a single helpful law and instead will pass a bunch of, like, food safety deregulations in exchange for cash from large companies that don't want to worry about health inspectors.

you know what keeps us safe from that? it's when 'doing some useful things for society sometimes' is a good way for a politician to keep their job. otherwise we will end up with no politicians who do useful things for society, out of sheer natural selection.

I'm just venting at this point but god. since when do we believe politicians are good people. obama was a godsend for this country and this world, he achieved so much good, and also he never so much as shut down guantanamo bay. the bar is in hell. the bar is in hell, and every single politician running for office will tell you otherwise, and we have got to stop listening to that and look at what they do. and keep demanding they do better, instead of replacing them with people who will do worse just because at least it's a brand new grifter.

[ameliathornromance]

Are you the Final Girl?

Slasher!Orc X Reader

Chapter 1

Masterlist

The first month of University was always chaotic and stressful. The first time you had returned back to your accommodation from Summer Holidays, were the most hectic and confusing time of the year – ignoring essays and exams of course – and did nothing to help you settle in. However, for your third and final year of study, you had arrived at your accommodation fully prepared and organised.

Your friends were in shock that you were so relaxed upon moving in, as they had not been as prepared as you had. That and almost all of them took radically different courses from one another, which meant that trying to find times where you could all meet up was difficult to do.

Apart from that, the year went off without a hitch and September passed quickly and without incident… almost.

Finding the time to be with your friends and moving back into your accommodation weren’t the main reasons for your stress. At the start of summer, you had been getting these degrading messages from a blank Instagram account. The users name was just a jumble of letters the profile picture remained blank as per standard issue of every new user that signs up to social media, so there was no way to find out who the person was. You had blocked the account at first, but you soon found another account had been made and continued to send you the same awful messages.

After blocking more and more accounts, seemingly created by the same person, you just resolved to ignore them. No matter what you did, they just seemed to keep coming back with full force.

And now, the messages were coming in faster and stronger since the start of the new year.

As you sat in the park, biting your nails as you examined the messages, wondering what you should do, a well manicured hand snatched your phone from your hand. “What’s this?”

“Jennifer!” You yelped as your friend slumped onto the park bench next to you and began to scroll through your DMs with this person. “Give me my phone!”

But she didn’t, instead, she shuffled further up the bench as you reached for the mobile device. Her heavily makeuped eyes skimmed the messages, her acrylic nails clacking as she scrolled.

“(Y/N), what is this?” Her eyebrows furrowed together as she pointed at you accusingly with the phone. “Who is this person?”

You scoffed, “I wish I knew. They just started berating me at the start of last summer.”

“And you blocked them?”

“Do I look stupid? Of course I did!” You snatched your phone back and turned it off, stuffing it back into your jacket pocket.

“What’s up slags?” Joining Jennifer on the other side of the bench and sitting on the floor, sat Jack and Sydney, your two other friends.

“(Y/N)s getting bullied.” Jennifer said to Sydney.

“What?” Jack whipped his head around to look at you from the floor, his thick eyebrows furrowing in concern.

“I’m not getting bullied.” You sighed, annoyed. “You make it sound so childish when you put it like that.”

Sydney dropped her gym bag on the floor beside her as Jennifer added, “well what else do I call it? Someone pushing you around? Shaking you down?”

“You need to report them to the university then,” Jack said, like it was that simple. Luckily, Sydney explained before you could, “there wouldn’t be any point, if you’re getting picked on, you need to know who’s doing the bullying to stop it. The university won’t do anything otherwise.”

You sighed, sinking back into the bench. “It’s fine. They’ll get bored eventually.” Although that’s what you said, you had little hope for it. What was the likelihood that the messages were going to stop after six whole weeks of sending you degrading messages every day? Blocking clearly wasn’t enough of a deterrent to stop them, so what else would?

“What a pathetic little freak.” Jennifer huffed, crossing her arms. “Who sends messages to someone everyday telling them stuff like that?”

An uncomfortable silence washed over the group. Jack broke it, “hey. This is the first time we’ve all been able to meet up since we got here, right?”

Sydney perked up, “you’re right! Now’s the perfect time to make Halloween plans!”

“Halloween is weeks away.” You said, flatly. It was the final few days of September, but your point still stood, “isn’t it too early to be doing something like that?”

“Oh you’re such a party pooper.” Jennifer gave you a dismissive wave, “we should plan something for the 31st. C’mon, everyone, let’s have a look for events!”

Simultaneously, everyone took their phones out from their pockets and began to search for local events.

“There’s a bar opening all night for the 31st.” Jack suggested, looking up at the other members of your group. “Thoughts?”

“Hmm, let’s make a note of it.” Jennifer said, thoughtfully. “Oh, oh!” She nearly jumped out of her seat. “What about this? An open air film night, right here, in the park.”

“What film are they showing?” You asked, curiously.

“It’s down to a poll,” Jennifer explained, “It’s between Scream and Happy Death Day.”

“Won’t it be too cold?” Sydney raised a thin eyebrow.

“Well, they say to bring a blanket.” Jennifer pursed her glossy lips and frowned. “But it sounds like so much fun.”

“What’s so fun about being cold out in the middle of the night? Wouldn’t you be much rather in a bar and warmed up with alcohol?” Jack gave a chuckle, “personally, I’d take the-”

“Oh no.” Jennifer had turned her attention away from her phone and to the park entrance. “It’s him.”

You looked over your shoulder, following Jennifer’s gaze.

In walked the Rugby team from your university… and amongst them was Malike. He was a tall, broad shouldered Orc with deep, mossy green skin and pitch black hair. It had been pulled back into a high ponytail and slicked back with some kind of product. His tusk on the left side of his face had been chipped, leaving it’s base jagged.

“Jen, you’ve been weird about him since he asked me out.” You said, looking away from him. “Malike took it really well, you don’t have to be so…”

“So what?” Jennifer asked, wrinkling her nose in disgust. “I’m allowed to be worried about who’s asking you out. Especially him. Orcs have awful tempers, who knows what would have happened when you rejected him!” Her voice rang out through the park.

“Jennifer keep your voice down!” Sydney hissed.

But it was too late. Malike had already looked around at your group. He saw you, smiled and waved.

You waved back at him, returning his smile.

“Jennifer’s right.” Jack said, looking at the Orc as if his wave was some kind of offensive gesture. “They’re really violent creatures. And he ditched us after you refused to go out with him.”

It’s not that you disliked Malike by any means. He just wasn’t your type.

Although it was true that he went to go and hang out with his classmates rather than his original friendship group that was you and your friends, you felt like you could hardly blame him.

First, you said no to going out with him and that’s when he began to distance himself from the group. You felt bad at first, but understood why. Soon, Jennifer and the others started asking questions.

You wanted to keep what had happened between you and Malike a secret; the last thing you wanted was to make the friendship between him, you and the others awkward. But it became difficult when all Jennifer could do was complain about his distancing from the whole group and ignoring all of them when they were together. She found it strange that he was fine talking to everyone individually, but not together.

Finally, you got tired of her complaints and told her what happened… and, she went nuts. She told you that you could have gotten yourself killed by rejecting him, then proceeded to have a go at Malike for ‘putting you in a difficult situation.’

Jack told you that Malike’s behaviour was ‘psychopathically guilt-trippy’ and Sydney would just snub him during PE classes they shared.

He stopped talking to any of you after that. He was still friendly with you, even though you didn’t talk anymore. You were the only one who tried to apologise for their behaviour. You truly had no idea that they would react the way that they did, but Malike just gave a sad smile. “No, it’s okay, I get it.”

Jack’s comment brought you back to reality, made you snort. “Jack, you literally asked me out and then ditched me at a bar.”

Jack instantly flared up. “I already told you I was sorry! It’s not my fault that I ate those super spicy-”

“Look, the point is,” Jennifer huffed, “is that you shouldn’t even be nice to him. Who knows what he could have done to you.”

“Where are you getting this from?” You asked her incredulously. “It’s not like he was ever violent when he was friends with us and you only started acting like this after I told you what happened.”

“He also plays rugby.” She added, “y’know rugby players screws get a bit more loose when they hit each other on the heads, right?”

You stood up. “What the hell is wrong with you!? He didn’t do anything wrong!” You gave Jennifer a disgusted expression. “Why are you getting so caught up in what could have happened instead of what did?”

“Because I care about you!” Jennifer rolled her eyes. “You’re being so dramatic, (Y/N), sit down.”

You looked around at your other friends, hoping that they would say something to shut Jennifer down. You knew Jack would be no help, he was on the same page as Jennifer, so you looked to Sydney.

But she was adamantly staring at her phone screen, scrolling through some text messages. It was like she’d never even been listening in on the conversation.

“I can’t believe any of you.” You knew that they were protective of you, but didn’t know that they would be so harsh towards one Orc.

“You know what?” You said. “Forget it.” And with that, you stormed out of the park and away from the group.

“(Y/N)-”

“Leave it Jen.” Sydney told Jennifer.

How did you wind up with such a bunch of judgemental loons like them?

I have a 7 day free trial on my Patreon! Come and see what I've been writing :)

[dee-writes-anime]

ehhh, i'm not sure if you do Platonic, but if you do, could i request Aizawa x (student)reader who sometimes struggles w Japanese? If you don't do platonic that's fine, i hope you have a great day nonetheless!! <33

It Just Takes Time

FEATURING Shota Aizawa x Reader (PLATONIC)

SUMMARY Turns out that learning Japanese is really hard. (thank you for the cute request, anon!)

CONTENT WARNINGS reader being self critical, academic struggles, reader comparing themself to others.

AUTHORS NOTE I think this ask is actually really fitting for how I'm currently feeling. So, for anyone else out there struggling, listen to daddy Aizawa and know that everyone learns and grows at their own pace, just keep on working hard and don't give up!

You sit at your desk, papers and textbooks scattered around you in a haphazard pile that hints at the hours you’ve spent struggling. The Japanese characters on the page blur together, no matter how hard you try to focus. It's like they’re taunting you, reminding you of every time the words haven’t come easily, every time you’ve stumbled or hesitated in class.

A familiar presence shifts beside you. You glance up, and there stands Aizawa, hands in his pockets, his posture relaxed but his gaze as sharp as ever. He regards you with that cool, assessing look he’s known for. “You look like you’re ready to snap your pencil in half,” he observes, and there’s a faint, almost teasing lilt to his tone.

You let out a sigh, feeling a hint of embarrassment. “It’s just… hard. Everyone else seems to understand so quickly. I feel like I’m always the last one to get it.”

Aizawa doesn’t reply right away. Instead, he pulls a chair next to yours and settles into it with a deliberate, calm ease. He waits a moment, as if he’s letting your frustration settle before responding. “Comparing yourself to others won’t help you learn,” he says, his tone firm but not unkind. “Each person has their own pace. Yours happens to be a bit different. That’s all.”

His words, as straightforward as they are, bring a strange comfort. You hadn’t expected him to sit down and tutor you directly, but now that he’s here, the pressure to be perfect seems to lighten.

He shifts his gaze to the paper in front of you, scanning the sentences you’ve been wrestling with. “Alright,” he says finally, his tone decisive. “Let’s go through this together. You read the first line, and I’ll help when you need it.”

You hesitate, feeling the weight of his attention as he watches you. Aizawa’s presence is intense but not intimidating; his patience seems infinite, like he’s willing to sit here as long as it takes for you to get it right. With a steadying breath, you begin to read, stumbling over a few characters.

He stops you gently, pointing to a specific word. “Let’s break this down. Each character has its own structure and meaning—if you can understand that, it’ll make more sense in context.” He explains the origin of each character, his voice low and even, helping you see beyond just the lines and strokes.

As he talks, you find yourself drawn into his explanations. He speaks with such clarity and purpose that the words start to come alive. His hand occasionally hovers over your paper, tracing a line or pointing out a radical, making the language feel less foreign, less impossible.

When you falter, his eyes remain steady on yours, grounding you. “Focus on one part at a time,” he advises, his voice a calming murmur that somehow cuts through the tension tightening your shoulders. “Learning a language isn’t about speed. It’s about understanding.”

Minutes turn to hours, and outside the window, the sun dips lower, casting the room in a warm, amber glow. You realize you’ve started to pick up on patterns in the characters you didn’t see before, small tricks and connections that make each word seem less intimidating. With Aizawa’s guidance, your confidence begins to grow, even if it’s just a flicker.

Eventually, he leans back slightly, his eyes never leaving you. “Try reading this line again,” he says, pointing to a sentence you struggled with earlier. “And don’t rush. Just… read.”

You take a deep breath and begin, carefully sounding out each word. This time, something clicks. The words come more easily, the characters less like strangers and more like acquaintances you’re beginning to understand. When you finish, you glance at Aizawa, half-expecting some kind of correction.

Instead, he gives a small nod of approval. “Good,” he says, his voice softer than usual. “You’re getting there. It may not feel like much, but that’s progress.”

You feel a warmth spread in your chest, a mixture of relief and gratitude. “Thank you, Aizawa-sensei,” you murmur, almost shyly. “I… I don’t think I could have gotten through this without you.”

He watches you with a look that’s hard to interpret, a quiet depth behind his eyes. “Don’t thank me for doing what you were already capable of,” he replies, his tone gentle but unwavering. “You put in the effort. I was just here to make sure you didn’t doubt yourself.”

A comfortable silence settles between you as you begin packing up your things, the weight of his words lingering. Aizawa’s encouragement isn’t effusive or loud—it’s grounded, like the support of a solid foundation. And though his words are few, each one is intentional, reminding you that you’re capable, that your pace is your own.

As you stand, he offers a parting piece of advice. “If you ever need help, don’t hesitate to ask. Language isn’t easy, but it’s worth learning.”

With a small, grateful smile, you nod. “I will, Sensei. Thanks… really.”

He nods back, his expression softening just slightly as he watches you leave. And as you step out of the classroom, you carry with you not only the knowledge he shared but also a newfound confidence, one that makes the challenge of learning feel just a bit lighter.

[transmutationisms]

hello! im just finishing up my read of structures of scientific revolutions, which has genuinely been very useful and shifted my understanding of science in a way being around people doing scientific research all day really didn't! i don't have a liberal arts education so i would love to get a sense of (a) what else of the philosophy / history of science canon is worth reading in the original (b) standard review papers or introductory textbooks and (c) critiques of the canon. i understand this is a big ask ofc, so feel free to point me to good depts / syllabi from good courses. thanks :)

yessss such a fun question >:) so, the thing that was so great about 'the structure of scientific revolutions', which i'm sure you've picked up on, is that kuhn pushed historians and philosophers of science to challenge the positivist model of science as a linearly progressive search to 'accumulate knowledge'. the idea of a 'paradigm shift' was itself a paradigm shift at the time; it was an early example of a language for talking about radical change in science without giving into the assumption that change necessarily = 'progress' (defined by national interests, mathematisation, and so forth). this is still an approach that's foundational to history and philosophy of science; it's now taken as so axiomatic that few academics even bother to gloss or defend it in monographs (which raises its own issue with public communication, lol).

where kuhn falls apart more (and this was typical for a philosopher of his era, training, and academic milieu) is in the fact that he never developed any kind of rigorous sociological analysis of science (despite alluding to such a thing being necessary) and you probably also noticed that he makes a few major leaps that indicate he's not fully committed to thinking through the relationship between science and politics. so for example, we might ask, can a paradigm shift ever occur for a reason other than a discovered 'anomaly' that the previous paradigm can't account for? for instance, how do political investments in science and scientific theories affect what's accepted as 'normal science' in a kuhnian sense? are there historical or present cases where a paradigm didn't change even though it persistently failed to explain certain empirical observations or data? what about the opposite, where a paradigm did change, but it wasn't necessarily or exclusively because the new paradigm was a 'better' explanation scientifically? how do we determine what makes an explanation 'better', anyway, especially given that kuhn himself was very much invested in moving beyond the naïve realist position? and on the more sociological side, we can raise issues like: say you're a scientist and you legitimately have discovered an 'anomaly'. how do you communicate that to other scientists? what mechanisms of knowledge production and publication enable you to circulate that information and to be taken seriously? what modes of communication must you use and what credentials or interpersonal connections must you have? what factors cause theories and discoveries to be taken more or less seriously, or adopted more or less quickly, besides just their 'scientific utility' (again, assuming we can even define such a thing)?

again, this is not to shit on kuhn, but to point out that both history and philosophy of science have had a lot of avenues to explore since his work. note that there are a few major disciplinary distinctions here, each with many sub-schools of thought. a 'science and technology studies' or STS program tends to be a mix of sociological and philosophical analysis of science, often with an emphasis on 'technoscience' and much less on historical analysis. a philosophy of science department will be anchored more firmly in the philosophical approach, so you'll find a lot of methodological critique, and a lot of scholarship that seeks to tackle current aporias in science using various philosophical frameworks. a history of science program is fundamentally just a sub-discipline of history, and scholarship in this area asks about the development of science over time, how various forms of thinking came into and out of favour, and so forth. often a department will do both history and philosophy of science (HPS). historians of medicine, technology, and mathematics will sometimes (for arcane scholastic reasons varying by field, training, and country) be anchored in departments of medicine / technology / mathematics, rather than with other faculty of histsci / HPS. but, increasingly in the anglosphere you'll see departments that cover history of science, technology, and mathematics (HSTM) together. obviously, all of these distinctions say more about professional qualifications and university bureaucracy than they do about the actual subject matter; in actuality, a good history of science should virtually always include attention to some philosophical and sociological dimensions, and vice versa.

anyway—reading recs:

there are two general reference texts i would recommend here if you just want to get some compilations of major / 'canonical' works in this field. both are edited volumes, so you can skip around in them as much as you want. both are also very limited in focus to, again, a very particular 'western canon' defined largely by trends in anglo academia over the past half-century or so.

philosophy of science: the central issues (1998 [2013], ed. martin curd & j. a. cover). this is an anthology of older readings in philsci. it's a good introduction to many of the methodological questions and problems that the field has grown around; most of these readings have little to no historical grounding and aren't pretending otherwise.

the cambridge history of science (8 vols., 2008–2020, gen. eds. david c. lindberg & ron numbers). no one reads this entire set because it's long as shit. however, each volume has its own temporal / topical focus, and the essays function as a crash-course in historical methodology in addition to whatever value you derive from the case studies in their own right. i like these vols much more than the curd & cover, but if you really want to dig into the philosophical issues and not the histories, curd & cover might be more fun.

besides those, here are some readings in histsci / philsci that i'd recommend if you're interested. for consistency i ordered these by publication date, but bolded a few i would recommend as actual starting points lol. again some of these focus on specific historical cases, but are also useful imo methodologically, regardless of how much you care about the specific topic being discussed.

Robert M. Young. 1969. "Malthus and the Evolutionists: The Common Context of Biological and Social Theory." Past & Present 43: 109–145.

David Bloor. 1976 [1991]. Knowledge and Social Imagery. Chicago: University of Chicago Press (here is a really useful extract that covers the main points of this text).

Ian Hacking. 1983. Representing and Intervening: Introductory Topics in the Philosophy of Natural Science. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Steven Shapin. 1988. “Understanding the Merton Thesis.” Isis 79 (4): 594–605.

Steven Shapin and Simon Schaffer. 1989. Leviathan and the Air-Pump: Hobbes, Boyle, and the Experimental Life. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press.

Mario Biagioli. 1993. Galileo, Courtier: The Practice of Science in the Culture of Absolutism. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.

Bruno Latour. 1993. The Pasteurization of France. Translated by Alan Sheridan and John Law. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.

Margaret W. Rossiter. 1993. “The Matthew Matilda Effect in Science.” Social Studies of Science 23 (2): 325–41.

Andrew Pickering. 1995. The Mangle of Practice. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.

Porter, Theodore M. Trust in Numbers: The Pursuit of Objectivity in Science and Public Life. Princeton University Press, 1996.

Peter Galison. 1997. “Trading Zone: Coordinating Action and Belief.” In The Science Studies Reader, edited by Mario Biagioli, 137–60. New York: Routledge.

Crosbie Smith. 1998. The Science of Energy: A Cultural History of Energy Physics in Victorian Britain. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.

Chambers, David Wade, and Richard Gillespie. “Locality in the History of Science: Colonial Science, Technoscience, and Indigenous Knowledge.” Osiris 15 (2000): 221–40.

Kuriyama, Shigehisa. The Expressiveness of the Body and the Divergence of Greek and Chinese Medicine. Zone Books, 2002.

Timothy Mitchell. 2002. Rule of Experts: Egypt, Techno-Politics, Modernity. Berkeley: University of California Press.

James A. Secord. 2003. Victorian Sensation: The Extraordinary Publication, Reception, and Secret Authorship of Vestiges of the Natural History of Creation. Chicago: University Of Chicago Press.

Sheila Jasanoff. 2006. “Biotechnology and Empire: The Global Power of Seeds and Science.” Osiris 21 (1): 273–92.

Murphy, Michelle. Sick Building Syndrome and the Problem of Uncertainty: Environmental Politics, Technoscience, and Women Workers. Duke University Press, 2006.

Kapil Raj. 2007. Relocating Modern Science: Circulation and the Construction of Knowledge in South Asia and Europe, 1650–1900. New York: Palgrave Macmillan.

Schiebinger, Londa L. Plants and Empire: Colonial Bioprospecting in the Atlantic World. Harvard University Press, 2007.

Galison, Peter. “Ten Problems in History and Philosophy of Science.” Isis 99, no. 1 (2008): 111–24.

Daston, Lorraine, and Peter Galison. Objectivity. Zone Books, 2010.

Dipesh Chakrabarty. 2011. “The Muddle of Modernity.” American Historical Review 116 (3): 663–75.

Forman, Paul. “On the Historical Forms of Knowledge Production and Curation: Modernity Entailed Disciplinarity, Postmodernity Entails Antidisciplinarity.” Osiris 27, no. 1 (2012): 56–97.

Ashworth, William J. 2014. "The British Industrial Revolution and the the Ideological Revolution: Science, Neoliberalism, and History." History of Science 52 (2): 178–199.

Mavhunga, Clapperton. 2014. Transient Workspaces: Technologies of Everyday Innovation in Zimbabwe. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press.

Lynn Nyhart. 2016. “Historiography of the History of Science.” In A Companion to the History of Science, edited by Bernard Lightman, 7–22. Chichester, UK: Wiley Blackwell.

Rana Hogarth. 2017. Medicalizing Blackness: Making Racial Difference in the Atlantic World, 1780–1840. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press.

Suman Seth. 2018. Difference and Disease: Medicine, Race, and the Eighteenth-Century British Empire. Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press.

Aro Velmet. 2020. Pasteur's Empire: Bacteriology and Politics in France, its Colonies, and the World. Oxford: Oxford University Press.

i would also say, as a general rule, these books are generally all so well-known that there are very good book reviews and review essays on them, which you can find through jstor / your library's database. these can be invaluable both because your reading list would otherwise just mushroom out forever, and because a good review can help you decide whether you even need / want to sit down with the book itself in the first place. literally zero shame in reading an academic text secondhand via reviews.

[curtsycream]

Baxter Radic Blurb

Finally finished season two of surviving summer and I love Bax’s character. He also deserved better so I’m giving him better. I’m giving him you babes <3

“How about that one?”

Looking down at his hand he looked over the tattoo she was pointing at. The slim reddish pink lollipop tattoo with small font along the white stick. Smiling at her he shook his head, “it’s just something small…I’ve always had it.”

Her eyes narrowed as she shook her head in return. “You didn’t have it before you left Queensland.”

Baxter bit back the chance to tease her for being so observant with his body. He held back as he tried to think about something to say to distract her. Nothing came to mind and he knew she wouldn’t buy into a lie.

“It’s new, got it my first week here,” he finally admitted to her.

The Queensland surfer smiled at him, “I’m loving this honesty streak. I’m guessing that Summer girl really got through to you, huh?”

“It wasn’t Summer,” he mumbled.

She craned her head back to look up at him in her seated position. “Then—then who? Or what? You’ve never been so open before,” she trailed off.

“Maybe, I don’t need to explain myself.”

She frowned grabbing his hand, “don’t do that. You always pull back when things feel tough for you. I’m sick of it, why can’t you just tell me the reason? Are you worried I’ll laugh or something? You know me better than—“

“It’s not that!” He exclaimed looking down at her. Running his free hand through his pink hair he shakes his head. “I know you wouldn’t do that, you’re too nice for that. Too nice for me,” he whispered.

“Don’t say that, you’re an amazing guy Bax…not many are like you. You don’t have to tell me about the tattoo just please don’t shut me out. It’s like ever since you moved to Shorehaven you’ve been reluctant to even message me.”

The way in which she was pouring her heart out to him left a sour taste in his mouth. Sitting beside him was the girl he grew to like quite a lot before having to leave. Tweaking his ear with his fingers he looks anywhere but at her. “I—it’s not your fault. I just thought if I avoided you it would make things easier.”

“Make what easier?”

“The fact that I like you and even if I were to tell you I’d find a way to fuck it up like I do everything else.”

The confession made the air around them feel heavy. It wasn’t like him to openly admit his feelings. But then again he had changed since moving away from Queensland. “Bax. Actually listen to me, I want you to know that what happened wasn’t your fault. You were drunk, we were all raging and someone dared you to do it. What you did wasn’t the reason you all had to leave, you know this. I don’t blame you and neither do the others. You’re a great guy,” she spoke calmly as she still held onto his hand.

Looking at her he let out a sigh, “I know that but it still feels like I had a part to play. Even if it wasn’t my fault I still fucked up. The second I got here I messed things up for my new team. I just think I’m causing myself problems.”

“You only think that because you’re so used to taking the blame. I promise you, you’re not at fault and it may take you a while to believe that. But trust me I’ll never blame you for things I know you didn’t mean to do.”

Leaning forward slightly his forehead rests against hers. His bright blue eyes searching her eyes for a hint of falsity. He found none but still he inquired, “promise?”

Raising his pinky he holds it out for her, keeping her forehead to his she locks hers around his. “I promise.”

Moving away from her he smiles keeping his pinky hooked with hers.

“Oh and Bax, I like you.”

[its-hazzia]

Okay I need to spell out my thoughts about the Luigi Mangione stuff goin on

I am not at all convinced he did it. And not in a "no way he and I were hanging out that day at that time in Panama" way either, even though we totally were but that's besides the point.

So I've seen other people discuss how it doesn't make sense for someone who had thought out and executed a plan for the murder AND escape so flawlessly, only to be caught with all that incriminating evidence in-hand a week later at a McDonalds in another state, which is obviously kinda a huge deal, but I have further thoughts on what's going on.

So Luigi does indeed look like the Starbucks security footage, and it does seem that he had used a fake ID to stay in the hostel (assuming it was him in the hostel to begin with, and I only say this out of an assumption that the hostel verified the ID used and that we're not just taking the police's word for it, but it'd also just be easier for the police to be like "yeah he used his real actual ID and that's how we got him" so I'm fairly confident about a fake ID being used). We know that he had been missing for months ahead of time, and we know that he had been suffering from chronic back pain prior to a spinal surgery.

Why don't I think he did it? Well aside from the questionable legitimacy of the "evidence" he was found with, after that Starbucks photo came out, EVERYBODY was immediately like "that looks nothing like the shooter". Sure, you can add a change of clothes and people have pointed out that the unibrow can disappear on grainy footage, but from what else you can see of the face, it does not look the same. Once again you could chalk it up to poor image quality... but then how can you match an identity in the first place?? The NYPD have never come out with any good justification as to WHY they thought the guy on the starbucks camera was thought to be the shooter. It wasn't even the same damn jacket! In my opinion, in their frenzy to not look completely incompetent and catch The Guy, they were just throwing everything they could and were ready to go all-in on framing investigating Literally Anyone that could function as a reasonable scapegoat.

"But his profile and circumstances really line up to make it look like he was radicalized by his pain and Absconded to Do a Murder!"

While this is a good point on a surface level, I'm not convinced that it lines up the way this narrative is playing it, and I think the NYPD just got really lucky with this scapegoat.

"His Back Pain Radicalized Him": HE HAD HIS BACK SURGERY, AND MADE A FULL RECOVERY. He wasn't denied by his insurance - and according to a post he made on reddit, he was completely off pain meds a week after! All things considered, the insurance worked out pretty damn well for him! Oh yeah and HE HAD BLUE CROSS BLUE SHIELD

"Then Why Did He Go Missing?": Think about it. He was an upper class kid who had been crippled by back pain for a significant portion of what should have been his fun years. I don't think anyone has to stretch their imagination to think that maybe he'd fuck off somewhere on his own to reclaim that lost time? Just, source a fake ID so your family doesn't find you, hopping from town to town in budget-friendly accomodations and happening to be in NYC when A Guy gets shot (crazy). Sure, kind of a dick move to just not tell anyone what he was planning to do, but we don't know what his relationships with his family were like, nor do any of us know him personally as to what he would and wouldn't do, no matter how many news articles of what kind of guy he is come out.

So really, which is more likely:

The Adjuster was a guy that was radicalized after the healthcare system, under a different provider, worked for him, after which he planned out a meticulous murder + escape plan only to effectively give himself up a week later?

OR

The incompetent undewfunded and ovewwowked uwu NYPD was desperate to not look like complete fucking idiots regarding such a high profile case in their jurisdiction, but because they never learned how to do their fucking jobs wewe just sooo undewfunded and ovewwowked uwu they just threw a bunch of shit at the wall until something stuck and happened to get lucky that the guy they found happened to have been A) a missing person and B) Had A Serious Medical Thing At Some Point

[wolfjackle-creates]

Bring Me Home: Chapter 2 Part 4

Story Summary: Tim and Danny are both neglected by parents who care more about their work than their families. They deal with this by spending too much time online and find each other playing MMORPGs. They keep up their friendship as Tim becomes Robin and Danny becomes Phantom and don't bother keeping secrets from each other.

In this segment, Sam and Tucker join the chaos!

First, Previous

1.3k words

---------

As they walked to the burger joint, Danny would point out areas of damage and talk about the fight that caused it. Tim kept track of every comment and was already trying to think of methods to minimize it in the future.

His friends were eating the stories up. Bart especially had way too much fun asking about Danny’s crazy rogues. Skulker was his current favorite. “He wants your pelt?”

“I know, right? He’s so extra.” Then Danny pointed up ahead. “We’re almost there. You can see the building from here. And those two people are my friends.” Danny waved a hand in the air and two teens, one dressed all in black and the other in yellow, waved back.

Danny sped up and soon it was Tim’s turn to give introductions. “Hi! You must be Sam and Tucker. I’ve heard so much about you guys from Danny. These are my friends, Conner, Bart, and Cassie.”

Sam shook his hand. “From Gotham, right? I love the vibes there. What I wouldn’t do for a single good gargoyle in Amity.”

Tim laughed. “I think that’s the first time anyone’s ever said that to me. Most people try and say they’re sorry for me growing up there. As if Gotham isn’t my home.”

Tucker elbowed her. “That’s our resident goth for you. I’m the tech guy. I’d go just for a chance to check out Wayne Enterprises. The stuff they produce”—he held his hands to his chest—“I’d be in heaven.”

Conner grinned. “Well I’m sure Tim could pull a few strings to get you a tour, what with being Bruce Wayne’s foster kid and all.”

“Kon!” hissed Tim even as Tucker’s eyes lit up.

“Bruce Wayne is your foster dad? You must always get the newest tech. Can I see your phone? At least check out the specs? What I’ve heard of it is to die for! Wait, Danny, is that the phone you were working on? Is she as beautiful as they say?”

Danny groaned and rushed to slap a hand over Tucker’s mouth. “Licking my hand isn’t gonna work, Tuck! Quit gushing at my friend. Tim is interested in an ectobattery, so we’ll stop by your place before returning to my home to grab some for everyone. Then you can at least see the hardware. But you won’t be looking at the software. Capiche?”

Tim glared at Conner as Danny let go of Tucker’s mouth.

“Fine.” Tucker pouted even as he aquiesed.

Sam rolled her eyes. “Quit your fanboying, Tucker. It’s embarrassing.” Then she greeted everyone else. To Conner, she said, “Cool look. Are you actually punk or just taking the aesthetic?”

Conner’s eyes were wide and he looked over to Tim who just shrugged at him. “I— um, I don’t know. What does it mean to be actually punk?”

Sam grinned and opened her mouth, but before she could start talking, Tucker interrupted. “Let’s go in and order. I want my meat and you can continue this conversation inside.”

“Boys!" Sam threw her hands up in the air. "If you ate something besides meat, you’d have more stamina to keep up!”

Tim bit his lip to hold back a laugh. They really were just like Danny said.

Danny groaned. “Sam! Tuck! It’s fine. Lets go in and place our orders. Then you can lecture Conner all about counterculturalism and punk values.”

Conner looked between them all. “Wait, why am I getting a lecture?”

Tucker shook his head. “Dude, you’re the one who asked Sam about what makes someone punk. You’re not getting out of this one.”

Danny made a noise of agreement. “But don’t worry, Sam makes her lectures interesting at least. Enjoy being radicalized!”

Tim put his arm around Conner. “Let me know if you need to get out of it.”

As they made their way inside, Tucker moved so he was walking next to Cassie. “So, Cassie, right? Where are you from?” His voice was pitched low.

Wow, so Tucker really was as bad at flirting as Danny always said.

Cassie realized something was up, and her tone was wary as she answered, “Um, Gateway City. You ever been?”

Tim looked over his shoulder and raised and eyebrow at her, silently asking if she wanted him to intervene. She shook her head slightly and twitched a finger towards Bart who was on her other side.

“Hey!” called an unfamiliar voice. “Watch it, Fentina!”

Tim turned forward just in time to catch Danny who’d been shoved backwards by a boy as big as Conner.

“Really?” asked Danny. He squeezed Tim’s hand as he got his balance back. “What was that for?”

Tim took a step forward and made a show of sizing the boy up. “You must be Dash. Danny’s told me a lot about you.”

Dash sneered at him. “And who are you? Some other nerd?”

Conner stood taller at his side and he felt Cassie and Bart take up positions just behind him. Cassie was the one to snort and quip, “Nerd? What decade are you from? The eighties wants its insult back. Or was that a seventies thing?”

Tucker snickered. “Yeah, Dash. Nerds rule the world right now.”

“Well you don’t rule high school,” said Dash, crossing his arms.

An equally large Asian boy took position next to him. “Yeah, we’re in charge for now. So move it.”

Danny bristled next to him. “I wasn’t even in your way!”

Tim cleared his throat. “Dash Baxter, right? Oldest child of Zachary and Alice Baxter. Dog named Poo—” Danny slammed a hand over Tim’s mouth and he glared at his friend.

“Oh my god, Secrets! What have you done? I swear to god, if you keep going…”

Behind them, he heard Bart laugh and say, “And that’s Bingo for me!”

“Well, damn,” replied Conner. “And I was so close.” If he wasn’t so pissed off at Dash, he would’ve rolled his eyes at their antics. He was so not at risk of going evil.

Dash was staring at all of them, mouth open. “Who are you?”

So Tim spoke into the hand over his mouth as he glared back at Danny. “He deserves it.”

“Nope, don’t care.” To Dash, Danny said, “This is a friend of mine. He and his friends are visiting from out of town.”

But of course things couldn’t just be left at that. Tucker spoke up to add, “He’s Tim Drake. His foster dad is Bruce Wayne.”

Danny turned his glare on his friend. “Tucker,” he hissed.

“What?” the boy shot back. “It’s true!”

Dash snorted. “Right. I’m just supposed to believe you’re friends with a kid of the Bruce Wayne.”

“You don’t have to believe anything,” retorted Danny. “Just let us go order our food in peace. I’m just trying to have a fun evening with my friends.”

Dash glared at him again, but his eyes flicked to the rest of them, lingering especially long on Conner. “You’ll regret lying to us, losers. Come on, Kwan. I need a shower after touching the twink.”

Tim twisted out of Danny’s hand. “What the fuck did you just call him?”

But the two boys didn’t turn around as they stopped out of the restaurant and Danny gripped his bicep and Conner put a restraining arm around his shoulders.

“It’s fine, Tim,” said Danny. “You know they’re always like that.”

“Say the word, Polaris, and I’ll do it.”

But Danny just shook his head and started pulling him towards the counter. “Let’s just order our food and sit down so Sam can give Conner her lecture on what punk is.”

Tim clenched his teeth, but allowed himself to be pulled to the counter where they ordered an obscene amount of food thanks to the appetite of four metas. He insisted on using B’s card to pay for everyone.

----------

Next

This scene was a ton of fun to write. And Tim gets to meet Danny's bullies in person for the first time. He has several years of pent up frustration from the stories Danny shared.

Tag List Part 1

@gremlin-bot, @bonebrokebuddy, @britcision, @lady-time-lord-, @welcometosasakiworld, @akikkobara, @phoenixdemonqueen, @dolfay, @skulld3mort-1fan, @we-ezer, @markus209, @sjrose1216, @onyxlightdragon, @dragonsrequiem, @jesus-camp-the-sequel, @spidey29phangirl, @kyrianclawraith, @evilminji, @introvert-even-on-the-internet, @emergentpanda-blog, @lexdamo, @v-inari, @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit, @longlivethefallen, @undead-essence, @xye-chan, @liandrin, @seraphinedemort, @kisatamao, @schalensitzbucket, @caelestisdreamer, @runfromthemedic, @nutcase8691, @channajen, @tonicmii, @ambiguouslyominous, @vythika96, @addie-lover-of-stories, @ironicvixen, @violetfox2, @pickleking8, @mysticalcomputerdetective, @ark12, @mygood-bitch99, @squirrel-wolf, @satisfactionbroughtmeback, @sometimesthingsfallapart, @automaticsoulharmony, @d4ydr34min9, @revnantdpxdclover, @midigeria, @raginblastocyst, @feral-bunny31, @lunaria618, @ghostreblogging, @ace-aro-as-shit, @job-ross-the-second

[diabolicalworldwriter]

Jesus, I just got to the point in Words of Radiance where Kal is in prison and Dalinar basically says "You're not going to end racism by being radical and acting upset about it. You can't just expect us to treat you like an equal because you're not one. Play nice and maybe the racists will grow to respect you"

I.

Buddy what the fuck

In general I think I've found that I'm... Not as fond of Dalinar as I used to be. Don't get me wrong, he does some great things and he's constantly trying to improve and I appreciate that. Flawed characters make stories interesting and I think Brandon does a fantastic job of writing him. However, he is overly strict and judgemental (Still not forgiving him for hating on Adolin for trying to express himself a bit more through style in ROW; let my boy dress up a bit if he wants), he struggles to accept other ways of doing things (we could look to Adolin again, being "too friendly" with those he commands and Dalinar going "noooo they might respect you less if they think you see them as an equal individual"), and while he talks about how he wants to change how everything works, if someone tries to defy convention in a way he doesn't approve of he shuts them down. (Kaladin pointing out very fair issues with how dark eyes are punished severely and light eyes get away with everything only to be talked down at until he shut up and fell in line, for example.) He wants change and has power to bring it about but won't do anything too radical for it, I guess, and that frustrates me. He tends to support systems as long as they work for his own goals, even if they're still exploitative and deeply unjust, while also complaining that everyone else is being exploitative and unjust. I dislike that he acts like he's doing Kaladin such a favor by treating him as almost an equal. "I'm sticking my neck out by treating you like a human, act civil and don't try to speak too loudly about the injustices yet, you might make the others uncomfortable." Dalinar isn't like other light eyes, he's so quirky and different and sometimes acts a bit less classist and racist!!! Aren't we lucky!! Idk maybe I'm stating my point a bit too strongly but damn. He's giving "yeah I'm a stubborn old man but really I'm quite progressive, I don't even go out of my way to hate crime people"

Words of Radiance, while I enjoy it, is rather difficult to get through because it's just so many main characters who I generally appreciate being awful to/supporting or ignoring awful behavior towards Kaladin and if he reacts they're like ":0000 how dare he attack first" (I appreciate Zahel chewing out Adolin for antagonizing and then fighting Kal in shardplate because goddamn Adolin I love you but that sucked.)

I'm finding Elhokar a lot more unlikeable on this reread as well. He's meant to be unlikeable of course, so good job on that, but Jesus he can be the worst. Honestly standing beside my past thoughts that what Moash did wrong was not in turning on the system that oppresses him and all the dark eyes, but just that he knowingly hurt Kaladin and other people who cared about him repeatedly and severely to do so.

I'm on board with killing horrible leaders (especially if it seems the only way to remove them and stop them from causing harm: people shouldn't have to suffer and die as part of a leader's learning curve and character growth, and going "they're working on it" when people are actively suffering is garbage. I'm still sad at Elhokar's death but I'm not sad that he's no longer king) but I draw the line at abusing and killing one's friends and I am just hoping he comes to terms with what he has done wrong and improves in book five.

Anyways that was long and scattered I'm sorry lmao you should have heard my rant to my poor cousin, I was rambling for like half an hour.

[weirdmarioenemies]

I've been thinking about Snood a lot lately. Never did I expect I would suddenly become so Snoodpilled! Exactly one week ago, I decided I didn't want to talk about each Snood individually. But I can't help it. I'm gonna do it! I'm about to Snood! I could go on and on about the history of Snood but other people have done that already and you can find it if you're interested. I am just going to explore the designs of each of these little disembodied heads (they are officially referred to as such. I don't know where their bodies went) and you're going to watch! I want you to imagine this happening physically. You sitting in a room while someone plays a slideshow of Snoods while analyzing them. That's what we do here!

Jake is the Main Snood! The simplest, the most straightforward. He is sort of just a face, and I know all the Snoods are, but this is even more straightforward than most! He is pretty striking, though, with his deep blue and intense stare, compared to the more expected yellow smiling face. Despite his simplicity, Jake has served as the mascot of Snood from the beginning, and I guess he's a good choice for that. I don't actively enjoy the designs of many Snoods, so maybe I would say that about any one declared as the mascot, though.

Zod is already much more of a freak than Jake! He's angry, his sclerae turn cyan, and he bares his sharp teeth. My favorite part is that his nostrils glow! What's going on in there? Little creatures throwing a raging party? Or maybe it means it works as an electrical outlet! Most of all, Zod's most interesting feature is his shape. He has four flat-looking protrusions, as if he could easily stand on any of them. Or maybe they're suction cups. Or maybe they're open holes! Stick your arm in and wave at someone from through a Zod! If you cover all but the top one, you could drink a beverage out of him!

Midoribe heard someone say "be there or be square", and let me tell you. He was not there. He is the Snood who fills up most of the space of his sprite, which gives him an interesting vibe of being the Biggest One. I feel like the characters all being radically different shapes would lead to aiming being a bit more difficult depending on which one you're launching. There could be a Snood Visual Clarity tier list! Awesome. Midoribe's face isn't all that interesting, besides his fascinating nose. The bridge is oh so thin, but the nostrils so builbous, looking almost like two tunicates attached to a stactite! Pretty cool of his nose!

Geji is my favorite Snood! The face isn't that exciting compared to the other Snoods', though I like how happy she looks in the standard expression. I say "she" because Snood HD made Geji a very standard Girl Snood design, but look at this original one and tell me that isn't an awesome and epic girl. The best part is all her tendrils! Geji is like a bacterium or something, with all these cilia emerging from her relatively small main body, and filling out the space of her sprite! I bet those could catch plankton if they needed to. They even droop like mammal ears when Geji is sad. But Geji has much reason to smile, and that includes her very interesting widely-placed but tall teeth. Look at them!

Sunny is, I think, the most conventional Snood. A yellow smiley guy with sunglasses, and he's named after the sun. Pretty standard! However, he is the only standard Snood to wear an accessory, which I guess is notable of him. He has the default Mii nose and that is funny to me. The more I look at him, the more I like him! I really like his lopsided smile, and I reasonably like the way his mouth widens SO much when grinning. He is so happy. Lastly, I like how he reminds me of Cheez-It Gripz. Remember Gripz? Gripz were just okay.

Mildred has a really wacky shape! I am not sure how to describe it. Actually, now that I look more closely, she's shaped like a baby's shirt and diaper at rest, and like a somewhat poofy dress when frowning. I don't think that was at all the intention, she is just very oddly shaped! I like it. Mildred has easily the most striking eyes of all, with cyan sclerae, black irises, and pink pupils! They look like they would give her some kind of ability along the lines of X-ray vision. Their positioning makes me think of a hammerhead shark! Mildred's upper lip has a funny little nubbin that seems to lock into a funny little nubbin-shaped slot on the lower lip, and it feels almost beak-like to me. Mildred could chomp a prickly pear pad pretty easily if she wanted to.

Spike is the last of our regular Snoods, and I think he might be my second favorite! His worried expressions are so endearing to me. I think he would be the big tough guy with a heart of gold. He looks like he would be a monster living under a kid's bed, and he would be more scared than the kid when they encounter each other. His horns are kind of the most creature-like of a trait that any Snood has, which is interesting! I think if Spike had a full body, he would have hooves.

AAAAHHHHH!!!! EEK!!!!! This is Numbskull, and Numbskull is a BAD SNOOD! Numbskull cannot be matched with itself and gets in the way and is evil and a bad guy. At first glance it looks like a standard skull, but the more I look at it, the more it looks alive, actually! It has lips. It has nostrils. What I thought were cracks are brown, as if hair! Skin vibes from this Snood. Not only is it an obstacle, but if you don't manage to save all the Snoods, they will turn INTO Numbskulls! Not only did you kill them, you made them bad guys. Nice going, PAL! Luckily we have some MAGIC SNOODS to help deal with them...

Rowbuilder will build a row of all the same kind of Snood, giving an easy area to clear, and transforming other Snoods, including Numbskulls. They can become nice again! They put redemption arcs in Snood! Rowbuilder himself is a weird sort of guy, with a very gaunt face, even more gaunt than the actual skull guy. He has weird Rayman hair on top, and two big ol' arrows on the sides of his head that can stick out to show you that, oh yes, this is a Horizontal Ability guy. I don't have much opinion on him. That little triangle under his mouth could just be a gradient thing, but I think it would be really funny if it was a Snood Soul Patch.

Stone, on the other hand, I love! What's going on with this thing! It is honestly frightening-looking! A strangely-textured orb, entirely out of style with the other Snoods, and a face that's just some vacant, featureless depressions. This would give uncanny valley vibes to a sentient bowling ball. Even though it's a rock, the texture looks like an annelid worm's segments to me. Also even though it's a rock, it explodes! I really don't know why it isn't a bomb (and it would in fact be replaced by a bomb in a later game) but I'm glad it's an unsettling rock instead!

Then there's Wildcard. This goofy guy. This chucklehead. He is playing one of his trademark Tricks on us by not having a unique design in the original game, forcing me to use his sprite from a different game, completely disregarding the consistency of this post! The rascal! He is on our side though, and can turn into whatever Snood is needed to make a match, so don't kill him with hammers. He's alright in the end. The real shame is that he wasn't the Joker in Snood Solitaire! Joker's Trick!

And last, and arguably least, we have Odin. I like Odin, but Odin does not appear in any "mainline" Snood games, just a few spinoffs! Their design is much less upsetting than any other Snood's. This is easy to look at. So obviously I would love to see what Odin would look like if they were a gradient freak like the other Snoods! I think peach is a good color choice for an additional Snood, and the expressions are fun and distinct, but the arrow-shaped horns (?) do evoke Rowbuilder, so something a bit more distinct would have been nice. Maybe antennae, or ossicones!

And that's all the Snoods! I will not be going over their various redesigns, because none are nearly as visually striking and distinct as the originals. Especially the Snood HD ones, who are cohesive and have more mass appeal, at the cost of actual interesting designs. In the end, I still feel none of the Snoods are my style, but they sure are Interesting!

[drjae69]

ENJOY YOUR STAY . . .

It’s always the nice ones that get you . After weeks of long hours you need a break so you decide to use your paid time off now but what to do . You decide to try a new medical spa that you just found to hand opened nearby to you . The reviews were good and the patients were pleased with their stay there . After giving it some thought you decided to go for the week thinking what would you lose doing it? . Arriving there you checked in and sign the wavier at the front desk you barely read it but consented anyway thinking it was a responsibility waiver for the clinic . After walking through the main doors they took your bags and took you to be initially examined and after to your room . A sterile hospital like room two chairs a hospital bed and a hanging modern decent size TV . On the bed was a hospital gown , you were plainly asked to de cloth and wear it for your stay once you did, they took your regular clothes for safekeeping. You would relax on the bed for a little while before dinner came it was a nicer meal compared to a regular hospital, but given the asking price for your stay here it fit . While you ate you watched the TV which had streaming box with everything you could want from it . Soon it was bedtime in the light in the hallway went out along with yours so you want to bed . However, unbeknownst to you it would radically change overnight.

In the morning, you would awake dazed, and sore and with a warm moist feeling around your crock. Looking beside you a IV stand was now there with you hooked up to it . You would lay in bed feel around and with a shock would feel yourself urinating yourself confused you waited . Eventually, two nurses arrived you would ask what was wrong with you and you would find just that . One of the nurses would open the curtain. The other lifted your gown to expose a big bulky moist medical diaper. Very confused you would asked what they had done to you . One of the nurses would coldly reply to you according to the waive you signed you consented to any and all procedures, they deemed medically necessary for you including Surgically Induced Incontinence. Your face would go white as a realized what you agreed to absentmindedly before . Right before you could think further , the other nurse and proceeded to lift your legs into change you. Mortified you watched her change it out and spry urine and realizing what they had done to you . Once they had finished they said they would be back for you to take you out to see the rest of the spa. Sitting in your clean diaper you stared, motionless into the void coming to terms with this new reality. After being fed lunch you would be wheeled out to see the rest of it . The spa would indeed live up to the few images on the website and you would get to spend the quality time you wanted albeit diapered. You would interact with the other patients here all over which in various states of changed and all in diapers .

By the time you got back to your room and changed again you barely touched you dinner as as you contemplated going home in a weeks time now diapered thinking what needed to change now that you were this way and couldn’t go back . Over the next few days you would experience the most change since adolescence . The next morning, waking up to find a gastric feeding tube installed onto your stomach and then on being feed fluids and mashed up food in a IV bag . The following after morning come to find a new hysterectomy scar across your lower body . Midway through the week you awoke to find your self paralyzed from the waist down and everything beyond that numb and Ice to the touch now . For the next following days you acclimatize to an new motorized wheelchair they “gifted” you . When finally you’re stay included in discharged, you were a different person from when you had entered . Now Incontinence and Paralyzed you had to live this way for now on. Conveniently the Medical spa gave the necessary paperwork to make the transition as convenient as possible . Even went home eating was different instead of solid meals it was from an IV Bag through the gastric tube as your stomach had contracted due to the invasive medication in your IV bags to be unsuitable for solid food again. Returning to work traumatized and broken all you could do was remember the sign on the door of the medical spa “enjoy or stay”.



[cinememed]

₍ 🎞 ₎   isle of dogs   (2018)  rp  starters  ! featuring violent themes . some lines have been slightly adjusted for rp purposes .

i am not your pet. i never liked you.

oh, i'm full–grown, sweetheart. you don't have to worry about me.

i don't care about you. i won't wait for you.

i'm not a violent dog. i don't know why i bite.

you have a conspiracy theory?

sometimes i lose my temper and blow off a little steam, but i've never enjoyed it.

my friends think i like to fight, but it's just not true.

you took me in, like a stray dog.

i can see you've been mistreated.

who told you that dirty lie?

i lost all my spirit, i'm depressing.

i think i might give up.

are we eating him or is this a rescue?

i wouldn't drink that if i were you.

i recognize you from when i heard that rumor.

you're the best in a scrap. we all know that you like to fight.

you hungry? kill something and eat it.

nobody's giving up around here, and don't you forget it.

let's wait a second before we attack each other and tear ourselves to shreds.

if we don't drown, i'm gonna strangle you myself.

you cold? dig a hole in the ground, crawl into it, and bury yourself.

don't ask me to fetch that stick.

i don't care. i'm used to leftovers.

i'll always be loyal to you, but circumstances have radically changed for me.

i can't protect you efficiently under these conditions.

i was the one that tried to make you be loyal in the first place.

i'm not doing this because you commanded me to.

where do you get all these rumors? i mean, who tells them to you?

i'm doing it because i feel sorry for you.

that's highly confidential. um, anyway.

i don't know anything, i should've kept my mouth shut.

i can hear you. i can hear you.

i don't think i can stomach anymore of this garbage.

so how does it feel to be a former stray?

i guess it scared me.

this is my new favorite food. thank you.

i thought you knew all about me.

it wasn't my choice. i don't consider it my identity.

so you know a few tricks, then.

i'm gonna drag you out with my teeth, since you can't understand the plan.

i lost my train of thought. dammit!

only reason i even said that is because we're all probably going to die out here.

look at it that way. you're probably safer than i am.

i'll be compelled to defend myself with all the means at my disposal.

i was dying. do you judge me for that?

are you okay? how can i be of service to you?

you're not safe here. you shouldn't have come for me.

people talk, and i listen. always have.

come sit beside me. it's okay.

[kasagia]

Devoted

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/General Kirigan/The Darkling x fem! shadow summoner! reader Summary: Aleksander and Baghra have been your family since you left the house of your father, who blamed you for your mother's death in childbirth. You and Sasha became more; he was your epic love interest and mentor. You wanted to be just like him... until one event radically changed your beliefs and led you to doubt your great purpose. Nonsense from me: This is a request from @justmasblack I hope that you like it! 💙🖤 P.S. I'm so sorry it took me so long. 😅 (Inspired by Vampire - Olivia Rodrigo) Warning(s): angst, mentions of death, blood, violence, the reader and Aleksander are lost, the reader can't go on like this any longer Word count: 6,7k Taglist: @aoi-targaryen @morrigan-crowmwell

Hate to give the satisfaction, asking how you're doing now How's the castle built off people you pretend to care about? Just what you wanted Look at you, cool guy, you got it

"How do you feel?" you ask, standing in the doorway to his chamber.

It's the first time since you've seen him after… the fold. He has his face down on the ground and looks at his hands. In one of them, he holds a handkerchief… soaked in his black blood.

He doesn't even look up at you.

"Good. How was your mission?" you sigh at his question and move deeper into the room, glancing briefly at the nichevo'yas present in the room.

"They have to be here even when you're talking to me?" you ask mockingly, but instead of immediately responding to your irritable provocation, he tenses up. Something is wrong. He tries to mask it with a fake, mocking smile.

"Are you afraid of them?" he asks, challenging you, looking at the remains of Morozova's stag in his hand.

"I fear nothing but myself." you respond to him with one of the rules you learned from living by his side. He nods his head in appreciation.

"Properly. Do you have what I wanted?" he asks and gets up from his chair, still with his back to you, and walks over to his desk, where his unfinished glass of whisky and bottle are.

"Have I ever let you down?" you ask and walk over to him, putting down all the important and needed notes and books he left in the Little Palace.

"Never. Not you." he replies thoughtfully, swirling the glass and drinking the rest of the alcohol in one gulp. "That's why I have another mission for you."

"You won't even ask about the freed Grishas? About how I managed to steal them from the palace and bring them here?"

"Since you're here, I'm guessing it went smoothly. Besides, I heard horses pounding in the courtyard. Everyone made it, didn't they?" he asks confidently, sorting through the things you brought him. You smile involuntarily. Always confident.

"Good to know the volcra didn't yank your arrogance out of you, but if you're going to mock me, at least look at my face, Aleksander." you challenge him, staring at his back defiantly, knowing full well that he feels your gaze.

"Only you can make fun of a volcra attack with such cruelty. Now I see why people hated you for that." he says, finally turning to face you.

You think he looks at you with more intensity than you do. Always judging, anticipating, and analysing his next move. Oddly enough, his behaviour interests you more than the black scars on his face.

You take a few steps towards him and stop, leaving a meagre, short distance between you two. One small step forward, and you could kiss him.

You hold back, though, and put your hand over his cheek. His rough beard gently tickles you as you run your thumb over the scar on his cheek. He is watching you intently, closing his eyes for a moment as he feels your fingertips on one of his black scars.

"Do you want me to kiss it better?" you ask him, leaning closer to him.

"150 years by my side and I still don't know when you're joking and when you're serious." he says in wonder, staring at you expectantly.

You are smiling. You stand on tiptoe and plant a soft, tender kiss on his cheek, feeling the furrow from his scar on your lips.

He shivers, his eyes closed, as his arms slowly slide around you and wrap around your waist. He holds you close to him, as if afraid that you will run away from him at any moment.

"Aren't you disgusted? Are you not afraid?" he asks, opening his eyes and drilling into yours. His shadows and dark creatures circle you both as he lets his guard down for a moment.

"Your darkness is mine." you whisper before you pull him into a passionate, needing kiss. You let your power flow with his. The room is completely dark as your shadows move to play with his when both of you lose yourself in each other again.

I see the parties and the diamonds sometimes when I close my eyes Six months of torture you sold as some forbidden paradise

"Are you enjoying yourself, General?" you ask teasingly as you approach him at another winter fest.

"Quite. How about you, Colonel?" he asks, the annoyed look on his face after talking to the king softening as he looks at you.

You've been by his side for almost a hundred years. And he always admired the way you looked in black kefta. Something only you and he could wear. Your colours. A clear sign of your belonging to him.

"You look lovely, by the way." he adds casually after looking carefully around to see if anyone is interested in your conversation.

" Lovely enough to catch the eye of some worthy suitor? What do you think about it, brother?" you ask teasingly, making sure the last word comes out as sweetly and mockingly as possible from your lips. You smile at his irritated look.

"This is the last time I let you invent new identities for us." He sighs in annoyance. You laugh genuinely.

"You said yourself that last time I distracted you too much as your wife." you remind him, sipping champagne from a nearby table.

"And now you're doing it as my pseudo-sister when I can't kiss and hold you the way I want. That's why you will be my mistress next time." you sigh, feigning shock, and place your hand on your chest.

"Mistress? You want to make a poor, innocent girl your bed warmer? Aren't you ashamed to pervert me like this?"

"You are already perverted, my little shadow. Maybe you need a reminder? About who do you really belong to?"

"I belong to myself." he licks his lips, giving you a hungry, dark look that would make anyone flinch… anyone except you. You wanted nothing more than to succumb to his aura.

You lean in gently. Enough that anyone who happened to be watching you would assume that you were leaning over to the table for something. But you do all of this only to leave a hickey on his neck. He sighs, not expecting you to be this brave (or stupid) to do such a thing right here and now.

"You're lucky we're in public, my little shadow."

"Oh, come on. You love it when I torture you like this." you tease him, watching him carefully. You envied his ability to hide the emotions on his face, but his eyes... his eyes betrayed his every emotion to you. At least that's what you wanted to think.

"And I like reminding you even more of who's really in charge here."

"Be careful with that… your mother says I'm getting more powerful every day… maybe even more than you."

He laughs, mocking the thought that you could ever be his match, let alone be stronger than him.

"Baghra would say anything to put me down. I wouldn't trust her words so blindly if I were you. No matter how flattering they are."

"Yes? Then why don't you want to prove yourself right and take on me?" you say, pointing out to him your insistent requests to have a real duel with him. Not just the training sessions he personally walked you through when you and Baghra argued so much that neither wanted to see the other.

"For one simple reason, my beautiful, naive, defiant little shadow… I have completely different plans for you than to consume you in my darkness."

"Who said you wouldn't be the one consumed by my darkness?" you ask, staring into his dark brown eyes.

He laughs, not believing that you - the girl he took in less than a hundred years ago - could beat him. "Keep on dreaming, my little shadow. Now, won't you dance with me?"

You took his hand and let him lead you.

Continuing to be his amusement and plaything.

I loved you truly Gotta laugh at the stupidity

"Did you mourn over me?" he asked you, stroking your hair as you two were lying in his bed, taking deep breaths after what you were doing.

"Where did you get that question from?" you ask, lifting your head from his chest to look at him. The hand that was combing through your hair lands on your back, stroking your bare skin with his fingertips. You shiver at his familiar, soft touch.

"Answer... Did you cry for me? You cursed my name? Maybe you were tempted to create an altar for me?" you've never felt more watched than under the gaze of his dark brown eyes.

"I was so scared... when you didn't come back from the fold... I felt like part of me died there with you. I can't live without you, Aleksander. Please... don't do such a thing ever again. You are my only shelter and the only thing I care about in this bloody world. There is no me without you." you think, but you know better to say it out loud. To admit how much power he has over you, how much you've become addicted to him.

"I've been waiting for you to come haunt me as a ghost to tell you that I told you so, and that is all your fault. Maybe I would use your cult and the people who trusted you to take over Ravka and rule by myself." you say and he laughs, turning on his side to look at you.

"My cruel little shadow didn't shed a single drop of a tear for me? What a pity." he says teasingly with a smirk as he wraps a strand of your hair around his finger.

"I was planning a bloody revenge and include a mention of you in my first speech as Ravka's Queen of Kings when I'm done. You should be happy or at least show some appreciation."

"No king by your side?" he asks curiously, raising an eyebrow at you.

"No. You are my only equal. If you were dead, I wouldn't need anyone by my side."

"So you need me after all, cruel queen of vengeance?" he asks, amused, raising an eyebrow at you with a smirk on his face.

"Amazingly, you're a good thing to scare people. The mere mention of your name makes everyone tremble."

He laughs and leans in to kiss you passionately. He holds you tightly in his arms, as if making sure you won't run away from him, that you'll stay with him even when his shadows and nichevo'ya watch over the two of you. Making sure you're as drunk on power as he is.

"I will always be here. Together, we will destroy others with our sahdows. Everyone will bow to us, moya tsaritsa." he whisper in your lips, between the kisses.

"Moi tsar." you mumble as you feel your shadows release, forming a ball around you that completely obscures both of you.

"I have a task for you." he says, stroking your sides teasingly as he smiles and watches you squirm under his touch.

"Good. But I want one thing in return."

"Name it."

He agrees, his dark eyes completely engrossed in the sight of your beautiful face, desperate for him. He chuckles darkly as you straddle him impatiently. He keeps his hands on your hips as you lean in and whisper in his ear.

"You will show me how you create your nichevo'yas." you kiss him passionately, bringing him closer and stroking his black scars on his back.

He moans into the kiss, knowing full well that he will do as you wish. He will enjoy watching you try to create what he did, how you try to match him in his darkness.

'Cause I've made some real big mistakes But you make the worst one look fine I should've known it was strange You only come out at night

It was supposed to be an ordinary mission.

Track down the deserters, kill them, and teach the others a lesson so they don't even think about escaping or leaving the Second Army.

And everything went on as usual… at least up to a point.

Of course you tracked them down with Ivan by your side. Thanks to him, you knew which direction to go, and when you both managed to stop in their place, your favourite part was about to begin.

Screams and pleas for mercy, mournful cries, last prayers, and their words before dying gave you a sense of power. Every drop of blood shed through your cut was like a drug to you. It proved that you were in charge of life and death and that you were too powerful to be stopped by anyone.

"Where is your saintly little sun summoner now?" you ask mockingly, and as your shadows cover them all, the sunlight disappears. All they'll see before they die are you and your shadows.

Everyone is too scared to say anything. They know you. The deputy general. His lover, his little shadow. Shadow Summoner. More cruel and bloodthirsty than the Darkling himself. They'd be lucky if you ended their lives with just a cut.

"You betrayed the Second Army. Your General, a future tsar and all the Grishas. And now you will pay for it."

You form a cut by being merciful enough to quickly end their lives. And then you see it…

Little child in the crowd. Girl. Maybe she was 8 years old. You reluctantly remember yourself at her age. A girl abandoned by her father who wandered around the world until she found other shadow summoners like her. The terror in the baby's eyes, the tears streaming down her cheeks, and the way she trembles in fear stir something in you.

You've never hurt a child before. That was your only moral boundary. And now you were about to cross it against yourself. For the Second Army. For Aleksander…

You close your eyes and make a cut in the crowd.

After a while, it's quiet again. No screaming and crying. Just you, your shadows, and Ivan faithfully waiting by the horses. You take one last look at the girl's body before returning to your companion and horses.

Deep down, you know this sight will haunt you longer than you think. And you can't quite understand what caused such a change...

Or you pretend, shaking your head as you remember the scared look in her eyes… exactly the same as you had when you were an abandoned child who had to survive on her own.

I used to think I was smart But you made me look so naive The way you sold me for parts As you sunk your teeth into me, oh Bloodsucker, famefucker Bleedin' me dry, like a goddamn vampire

"So you're still here." these are Baghra's first words to you. She doesn't even look in your direction.

She stares out the window as if the view beyond him will change at any moment. Aleksander made sure you settled down with the Grishas, who were loyal to him, in a remote place. Nobody could find you here... at least not yet.

"So he finally locked you in a cage. To be honest, I felt you were going to cross the line soon, but to betray him? Your own son? I've never felt more disgusted by you." the woman just smiles mockingly. She shifts her gaze towards you for a moment.

"In a few days, maybe months, maybe years, even centuries, you will be in my place and do the same as me. As soon as you open your eyes and see that he's manipulating you."

"He loves me." you start, but you're not sure if what you're saying is entirely true. After all, he never said that.

"He loves your power. You'll see it one day." she said with a dismissive wave of her hand.

"It doesn't matter. We shall rule together, side by side."

"Once, you wanted to be a protector. A hero. To ensure Grishas' safe future without war or battles. You didn't chase your own people. Look how you have fallen so low. The girl I met would never let her be a plaything in anyone's hands."

"I'm nobody's toy! I am a shadow summoner, more powerful than you or Aleksander. I am his equal, the future queen of Ravka. And I will achieve all this so that no Grisha has to go through what we have. No Grisha will ever suffer again for who he is."

"Then why are you chasing your people? Why do you cut them in half in cold blood? Because they ran away? Because they feared for their lives? What's the difference between you and Otkazat'sya or Drüskelle?" you clench your fists. You don't give in to her. Baghra won't get on your nerves. You're over it.

"You have no idea what you're talking about. Neither you nor Alina can understand our actions." you say, taunting her as you look at her in disgust. She betrayed you and Aleksander the moment she decided to help that little saint-bitch.

"Actions of you both or HIS?" she says, raising an eyebrow at you, not caring about your appalling attitude. She knows you. Just as good as her son. "Haven't you become that? A faithful servant who obeys his orders? Who kills the innocent at his command? Who gets his hands dirty for him?"

You sneer, but deep down, you're considering her question. The eyes of that puppy you cut in half with your cut cross your mind again. And a look full of fear—pure fear and tears in her eyes does not bring you the same satisfaction and sense of power as before. You wanted to be a hero once. Now you were the darkness. The evil parents used to scare their children at bedtime... and strangely enough, you felt like the weakest person in the world.

"At least I'm not rotting in this cage." you say as you walk towards the exit. "Oh! I forgot to tell you the most important thing. We're getting married. He gave me an engagement ring made of your bones as an amplifier, great, right, mom? We will finally be a family."

You walk out of the room with a cruel smile, not feeling as powerful and confident as before you walked in. And that little kid's cursed eyes full of fear will haunt you for the rest of the day.

And every girl I ever talked to told me you were bad, bad news You called them crazy, God, I hate the way I called them crazy too

You enter Aleksander's tent, furious. Your shadows circle around you as you walk to the mirror and undo the intricate hairdo Genya did for you.

"What has bitten you?" he asks, keeping his eyes on the map as he considers his plan one last time. Morozova's stag bone in his hand only fuels your anger.

"Your precious Alinoshka." you snort furiously, trying to let your damn hair out of your bun.

Aleksander chuckles and approaches you from behind. He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you to him, his lips against your neck.

"She's definitely not mine... well, only her powers are. Unlike you, my little angry shadow." he says as he kisses your neck. For a second, you think he wants to give you a hickey, but he stops himself. He rests his chin on your shoulder and looks at you in the mirror. "You are all mine, and you look lovely in my coat."

"The idiots lost my clothes chest. I have to steal from you, you don't mind, do you?"

He purrs against your neck, shaking his head. With one hand, he unhooks his coat from you and lets it fall to the floor, leaving you standing in his black kefta that's only held on by a belt.

"How could I when it makes you look so gorgeously mine?" you snort with laughter as he wraps his arms around your waist and kisses your neck. "What has our sun summoner done to make my beautiful little shadow angry?"

"I went to her tent to convince her of our cause… she of course, started to argue. We shouted at each other a bit, like girl to girl. She called me a stupid, cruel bitch and said you manipulated me as much as you manipulated her."

"You threatened her with your shadows and almost killed her, didn't you?"

"Of course not… we need her, I was being completely careful. I didn't even get her close to agony."

"My good little doom." he praises you, stroking your cheek tenderly as he stares at you with a dark smile. "Once we've expanded the fold, you can do whatever you want with her. Even if you killed her, I wouldn't particularly care."

"Thank you." you say, turning to kiss him passionately. Your tongues intertwine, and your shadows merge, dancing in a familiar dance as you both feel the other's power and the empowering abilities that his touch brings. you are addicted. From him and his taste, the feeling of power that he gives you. You don't want to be anywhere else. Only by his side. "You know what… I think I know how you can help me forget about this crazy bitch."

"I will be more than happy." he says, pushing you onto the bed.

You're so convincing How do you lie without flinching? (How do you lie, how do you lie, how do you lie?)

"You lied to them without flinching. I'm impressed." you say when he returns from meeting the royal family. You took on a new identity. A Darkling's son and his wife (a distant relative) who both can summon shadows.

"A matter of habit. In a few centuries, you will be able to do it too." he assures you as he leads you to his chambers.

You snort when he puts his hand on your back. "I'm offended that you think I don't have that skill yet, husband." you say, teasing him. You didn't get married. However, that didn't stop the two of you from pretending otherwise. Maybe someday…

"I know when you're lying, wife." he says, also teasing you. Your black kefta billows behind you as you walk to the Little Palace.

"Because you know me well. If you lied to me, I'd know you did too." he laughs, incredulous at your ability to spot his lie.

He leads you through the familiar corridors of the Little Palace. You just hope they assigned him the same chambers. You loved going out on the balcony in the evening.

"Let's try." he stands in the middle of the corridor. "Baghra contacted me. She wants to meet. Am I lying or not?" he asks with a raised eyebrow, waiting for your answer.

"Partly. Baghra wrote to you, but not about the meeting. It was about something else."

The amused smirk disappears from his face. He looks at you with a twinkle in his eye, surprised and a little excited at the same time.

"How did you know?"

You take his hand and pull him to you. You kiss him, enjoying the feel of his lips on yours. "Your eyes tell me everything." you say, making sure he doesn't look at you.

Actually, it was completely the opposite. He was the one who could easily read from your eyes. That's why you're not going to tell him you know what he lied about just because you read the letter. You won't give him the satisfaction of not really knowing when he's lying.

Ooh, what a mesmerizing, paralyzing, fucked-up little thrill Can't figure out just how you do it, and God knows I never will

You loved the thrill of power when you used your shadow. Now all you could think of was those damn scared eyes every time you summoned your shadows.

That's why when you and Aleksander went to destroy Karemzin with his men, you "allowed him" to do the honours. Using your shadows has become traumatic for you.

You hoped it would pass. That Baghra's words, that fucking terrified look from the girl, and the growing doubts inside of you kept you awake in the night.

Fortunately, Aleksander didn't notice any change in you. Maybe he didn't want to, maybe he didn't care, or maybe his own problems were too big to notice yours.

Anyway, when you told him to destroy the town, he was at least... surprised. You always fought him to show off your powers, to show how powerful you are. Now you were standing back, watching him. His thoughts wandered towards you as he sent his shadows directly at unsuspecting people.

You, on the other hand, watched silently as the town collapsed under his shadows and listened to the screams of the people as they quickly came and disappeared. There was complete silence. And you trembled. Not the excitement or the wonderful thrill of seeing how terrifying and ruthless your Aleksander is. You trembled in fear. Aleksander blamed this on the exceptionally cold weather.

"We're setting up camp here." he announced to his men, and he walked over to you. Seeing this, you shifted your gaze from where Karemzin used to be to him and gave him a small smile.

"Nice show. I almost forgot you could still do that." you say, remembering the countless times you've destroyed villages for each other to save each other from discovering your little secret of immortality.

"Thank you, are you sure you're okay? You look pale."

"Maybe I need tea… and your arms around me in our tent." he giggles and immediately hugs you.

His coat and arms surround you, creating a safe bubble of warmth. However, all you can do is hear the screams of those people from a moment ago… and see behind your closed eyes blue, innocent irises looking at you in fear.

"Do you want me to show you how I create nichevo'ya?" he asks, pulling back to look at you intently. You pretend you're okay and smile back with a quick and excited nod of your head.

You hope this will bring back your power-hungry nature. That old Y/N would finally get out and play with her shadows again. That Aleksander will help you overcome this growing guilt within you and take away from you the burden of the sins you have committed in his name and out of fun.

However, when you manage to create your own nichevo'ya, to your and Aleksander's shock, you don't feel that relief and excitement. Guilt grows inside you, and your throat tightens as the nichevo'ya follows your every command.

Aleksander is speechless. Enough that he can only whisper: "My talented little darkness." before he pulls you in for a hungry kiss.

A little shadow turned into a little darkness. And instead of feeling overwhelmingly happy that he's finally seen your potential, you start to fear your power and about what he wants to do with it.

Went for me, and not her 'Cause girls your age know better

You used to mock Aleksander for how initially he was fascinated by Alina's light and what she could do as a sun summoner.

You also didn't know why he was so concerned about losing his connection to her through Morozova's stag bones. You knew how inconvenient this had become for your plans, but you couldn't understand why he was so easily engulfed by her light and worried about losing the ability to summon it.

You changed your mind when you faced her. As you watched her light scatter your shadows. For a moment, a small, fleeting moment, the sinner in you wanted to pray to Sankta Alina for forgiveness and help. For her to get you out of your darkness.

But then she attacked Aleksander. And you didn't hesitate for a moment to send a shadow barrier at him and create nichevo'ya to attack Alina.

And again, you saw the same terror in her eyes as in that little girl's eyes. And you came back to that clearing for a moment—to that moment when you sent a cut at them... when you closed your eyes in shame, not wanting to see what you had done.

You froze so much that Aleksander managed to save you from Alina's attack at the last moment. The roof above you collapsed, leaving you and Aleksander alone on one side of the corridor. You both ran outside.

"What were you thinking? What happened to you there?" he asks furiously, looking at you. This was your chance to grab her. You knew he would be furious with you. But instead of blaming you, he walks over and locks you in a tight, almost painful hug. "You are mine. I can't lose you, my little darkness."

And the worst part is, you don't know if he's holding you and clinging to you because he's hurt at the thought of losing the only person he cares about or if he just can't afford to lose your powers as well.

One thing is certain.

You can't go on like that anymore.

And in his arms, as you both cling to each other, you promise yourself that this will be the last time. You don't want power. You don't want the throne. You don't want everything you've wanted so badly... you don't want to be like Aleksander. You just want to finally feel at peace... just this once.

I've made some real big mistakes But you make the worst one look fine I should've known it was strange You only come out at night I used to think I was smart But you've made me look so naive The way you sold me for parts As you sunk your teeth into me, oh Bloodsucker, famefucker Bleedin' me dry, like a goddamn vampire

You remembered that day, like today. How you left your own house without looking back. When, after discovering that you were a shadow summoner, you decided that you could handle yourself. That you no longer have to live at home with a cruel father who blamed you for your mother's death in childbirth.

Luckily, you weren't alone for long. One day, you met them. Two people just like you, who welcomed you with open arms and welcomed you as one of their own (after a long time of both gaining each other's trust. Fate hurts both you and them.) But now you have your own little family.

You weren't Y/N Y/L/N, you were Y/N Morozova.

And that night, you were supposed to erase all traces of your past once and for all.

You told Aleksander and Baghra that you were going to visit your relatives. It was partly true. You think as you enter your father's house.

You don't tell him anything. You don't have to. From the determined, stern look in your eyes, a man knows why you're here. Aleksander taught you how to form the cut on objects. You decided a long time ago who would be your first living victim.

It's different than you imagined. When your shadows cut it in half... nothing happens. You don't feel regret, anger, or sadness. The blood on the wall and the blood that forms under it does not arouse any emotions in you. You just feel your shadows buzz inside you, wanting to get out, wanting to destroy everything around you, the last evidence of your old life and who you used to be.

But now you were Grisha. Shadow Summoner. Morozova's powerful ancestor.

And you had a goal. Destroy those who wish evil on you and your people. Anyone who dared hurt Grishas. And you started with your father.

You're leaving the house. You walk backward, watching your shadows crush the building to the ground. You feel a strange feeling of power rising in your veins.

And then you bump into someone's chest.

You don't scream. You don't attack.

You know this smell, especially the feeling of those strong arms around you. Only one person could just hold you to his chest in a situation like this.

"How are you feeling, little shadow?" he whispers in your ear. You don't know how he knew he'd find you here, how he tracked you down, or if he followed you from the beginning.

But it's good to feel his arms around you. They surround you almost like his shadows.

"Good. Free." Powerful. Invincible. Almighty.

You're not going to tell him. Not now. Not when you don't know how he'll react to it. But when he turns you around in his arms to look at him, you know you both share this thirst for power.

He tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. His gaze penetrates your eyes deeply, making you shiver. You feel that he can reach into your deepest, most secret dreams. And that he finds there a reflection of his own desires.

So you stand on your tiptoes and lean forward to kiss him.

And when you feel his lips on yours, his hands wrapped around your waist to pull you as close as possible to him, and the way he amplifies the shadows inside of you that are already buzzing with excitement, you feel like you can do anything by his side. And you both know this is just the beginning.

You and he were going to change the world.

You said it was true love, but wouldn't that be hard? You can't love anyone, 'cause that would mean you had a heart I tried you help you out, now I know that I can't 'Cause how you think's the kind of thing I'll never understand

"Aleksander?" you ask him when you enter your chamber and see him engrossed in books and maps.

"Come here, Y/N! I need to show you something." He says excitedly, and the fact that he's called you by name only proves that how important it is.

You sit on his lap and study the maps he has spread out. There are red crosses in some places.

"The places of the amplifiers. We are so close to everything we have planned. I can't wait to see you in the crown by my side, my little darkness. They will worship us. The new saints and rulers of Ravka. Saviours of all Grishas." he continues excitedly as he holds you in his lap and looks at all the papers on the desk.

"What about Alina? Her tracker? The Grishas who followed her… your mother?" you ask. He stops stroking your hair and shifts his gaze towards you.

"You don't know? They will kneel before us. Traitors will be punished accordingly. I promise you, my little darkness. No one dares to oppose us. No one will be brave enough to fight our darkness." he places a tender kiss on your forehead. "We're both in it. We don't need anyone else, my little faithful, pretty darkness."

He glances back at his maps and plans. He doesn't notice your nervous look or swallow. And you realise more than before that you don't want it. You don't want to be queen through fear and violence… you don't want to see again, in dreams, behind closed eyes, and on the faces of others, that frightened look of the little girl you cut in half with your shadows.

You do not want to be like Aleksander.

You spent 150 years striving to be where you are now. By his side. His equal. Just like him. His matching darkness.

And now you would do anything to go back those 150 years… not to commit so many sins in the name of power and love for a man who can't love anyone because his heart died ages ago before he even met you.

"You and I will finally change this world, Y/N. We're so close, my little darkness." he says, pulling you closer to him.

You shudder at the nickname, which has become a sweet curse, uttered by him with tenderness. A curse that was another thing to remind you of your wickedness… that you had become a monster.

Aleksander frowns for the first time since you entered his tent, noticing that there is something wrong with you. That you don't have that excited twinkle in your eyes when he talks about his plans. That you don't have that dark smirk on your face that drove both of you to action.

"What is this? What's in your mind?" he asks, caressing your cheek tenderly.

You lean in and kiss him. Aleksander does not realise the importance of this kiss. He doesn't realise that this is your last attempt to get back at him. One last attempt to hold on to him with the last of his strength. Last try before you put your own plan into action. Before you make a final and irreversible decision about both of you.

You kiss him with everything you have. With all the passion, love and affection that he has instilled in you over the last 150 years.

Your mentor. Your saviour. Your great, epic love. Your sweet villain. Your worst doom and greatest happiness.

Your Aleksander.

You pull away from the kiss and rest your forehead against his. He notices your tears, but he thinks they are tears of joy, that you, just like him, are glad that your long journey is coming to an end.

"I love you, Aleksander." you whisper with tears in your eyes, silently begging him to say back those three words you've been missing for ages. To prove that he cares about you, that he's not completely consumed in his darkness.

But he smiles only and kisses you on the forehead again, stroking your hair as he whispers softly: "I know."

You kiss him again. You don't want to show him that you're broken. That with his answer, he sealed your fate… that you had completely lost all hope of saving yourself and him. Because there was no you without Aleksander. And you couldn't go on like that anymore.

I've made some real big mistakes But you make the worst one look fine I should've known it was strange You only come out at night I used to think I was smart But you made me look so naive The way you sold me for parts As you sunk your teeth into me, oh Bloodsucker, famefucker Bleedin' me dry, like a goddamn vampire

He was preparing for his… your quest for the amplifier. His men were assembling the camp; his tent was just your suitcases and a few key reports and plans he had yet to go through.

He planned everything perfectly. It's a shame you were about to ruin it all.

"Aleksander. We have to talk." you say, hiding the tremble in your voice.

"Now? We're about to leave, can't it wait a while? We'll talk on the way." he says without taking his eyes off the papers in his hands. Saints, if only he knew how hard it is for you to do what you have to do right now.

"I have a feeling that I wouldn't be by your side to witness your victory, Aleksander." you say to him, playing with the sleeve of your black kefta. A ring made of Baghra's bone has never weighed on you more as you let your shadows step out for a moment and roam the tent.

"Where would you be then?" he asks, finally interested in you as he looks up at you with a surprised and panicked look.

You just smile. Aleksander is trembling. It's not that smile that warms his dead heart, it's not that dark smile that makes him shiver, his shadows are eager to play with yours.

Your smile is empty, without hope, sad and as if… resigned. Tears form in your eyes. Aleksander takes a hesitant step towards you.

"Y/N..." he whispers, watching your emotions finally surface.

"I love you, Aleksander. I always did. You were my epic love. My shelter. My mentor. Everything I've ever known. The only constant in my life. I've always wanted to impress you, to match you. Stop being just your little shadow… I'm sorry I didn't love you properly. Not enough. Maybe it would be better if you ended up with Alina. She is… the light. And we are only darkness. Maybe it's my fault… that I went deeper into this darkness with you, that I pushed you into it myself and enjoyed it more than anything…" you say, no longer holding back tears. This is the first time Aleksander has seen you in such a… vulnerable state. And he's terrified.

"Y/N, what are you talking about?"

"I'm so sorry, Sasha... but I can't do this anymore." you whisper with tears in your eyes and start to form the cut.

"Stop. No, please stop! No! Stop!" he screams, terrified. He runs to you to stop you, but his nichevo'ya holds him in place. He can only watch, screaming in horror and great grief, as one of his shadow monsters crushes your neck before his eyes.

He screams louder than ever. And you close your eyes, unable to see the terror in his dark brown eyes.

When his nichevo'ya finally releases him, he runs over to you. He takes you in his arms, holding you close to him on his lap.

"I... I never meant for this... I-I swear." he cries, cradling you close to his chest in his arms. He knows there's nothing he can do anymore. He has a few moments left with you. And you realise that, unlike you, he can't control them. It's his shadows that control him.

"Sh... sh... I know... I love you, Sasha."

"Please… no… I love you, I love you so much, Y/N. Please..." he cries as he leans his forehead on yours. "I can't do it without you… I can't live without you. You are... my everything. Please... don't leave me..."

You taste his tears as he kisses you one last time, as if trying to keep you by his side. With the last of your strength, you take advantage of the connection between you and give him your power. So he will no longer be controlled by his shadows.

"I'm so sorry, Aleksander." you whisper into his lips, and you feel all your strength starting to leave you. Only loud screams and Aleksander's tight, aching embrace keep you in this world.

After a while, you feel nothing. It's just you and blissful emptiness.

You feel at peace.

And deep down, you feel that you and Aleksander will meet again on the other side… this time, maybe you'll both enjoy the light.