#finally got it though now i'm fucking unstoppable

[bonnieisaway]

felt appropriate to be my first edit with scenes from season four . they sicken me they're so ogughgg oh my god.

[br0kenangel]

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ 𓇼 ࣪ 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐲 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒⠀

Pairing: Serial Killer Aegon x Victim Reader

Summary: you just wanted to enjoy the night with your best friend and getting fucked. But what was waiting for you was much more scary than anything you had ever expected...

Warning: kidnapping, blood, abuse, unwanted touch, murder.

˚꒰♡꒱‧ Hi there! Before you read this, you should know that English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

Original Gif by @lady-alicent ♡

The mirror gleamed back at Y/N as she carefully applied the finishing touches to her makeup, the sleek red dress clinging to her curves in all the right ways. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders, the silky strands catching the light of the vanity. Tonight, she was going to be unstoppable. On speaker, her best friend Emily's voice filled the room, excitement buzzing between them as they planned their night out.

"Girl, I swear, tonight's the night. I will get laid" Emily laughed, the sound infectious, pulling a giggle from Y/N.

"Are you sure, though? You've been talking about this for weeks. Are you finally going to get with Tom?" Y/N teased, brushing some highlighter across her cheekbones.

"Hell yeah! I'm gonna fuck his brains out!" Emily declared dramatically, causing both of them to erupt into laughter. "But what about you? Don't think I didn't see how Oliver was staring at you last time. That man is ready to risk it all."

Y/N smirked, lining her lips with a deep crimson. "Oh, Oliver won't know what hit him tonight" she winked at herself in the mirror, confident. "By the end of this party, he's going to be begging."

Emily cackled, making another inappropriate joke that had Y/N snorting, her mascara brush shaking slightly in her hand. "God, Emily, you're gonna make me mess up my makeup."

"I cant help it, you're gonna make himー"

Suddenly, Y/N froze mid-laugh. In the corner of her eye, she caught something ーa shadow shiftingby the window, just out of her line of sight. Her heart skipped, an eerie prickle crawling up her spine.

"What's wrong?" Emily's voice came through the phone, concern creeping into her playful tone.

Y/N blinked, her eyes darting around the room. Everything was still. Quiet. The only sound was Emily's distant voice on the phone. She let out a breath, forcing smile as if it could push away the unease settling in her gut. "Nothing, I just thought I saw something."

"Probably just your nerves. You've got Oliver on the brain too much!" Emily teased, bringing the conversation back to its lightheartedness.

"Yeah, you're right," Y/N muttered, trying to shake off the strange feeling. She continued applying her makeup, but every now and then, her gaze flicked back to the window. That uneasy chill hadn't left, a quiet whisper in her mind that something wasn't quite right. But it was probably nothing.

At least, that's what she told herself.

The night was pitch black, the only light coming from the dim glow of Y/N’s headlights as they cut through the lonely, desolate road. Trees stretched out on either side, their branches twisting together to form a canopy of shadows. The once lively conversation with Emily had died down to a nervous exchange of directions as Y/N found herself completely lost in the maze of unfamiliar back roads.

"Are you sure this is the right way?" Y/N asked, her voice tight with frustration, gripping the wheel a little too hard. The GPS had stopped working a while ago, leaving her utterly reliant on Emily’s instructions.

“I swear, Y/N, it’s the right way! Just keep going straight, and you’ll see a sign soon, I promise,” Emily’s voice reassured her, though it did little to calm the rising anxiety bubbling in her chest.

Straight. That’s all she had to do. But the road seemed endless, stretching out in front of her like a void, each passing second growing thicker with unease. Y/N glanced around, her stomach flipping as the dark woods loomed over her. It felt like something was watching from the trees.

"Emily, I don’t see anything—" Y/N began, but her words were cut off in a scream as a figure suddenly appeared from the darkness, leaping in front of her car.

THUD.

The impact jolted her entire body forward, the screech of brakes cutting through the stillness as the car skidded to a halt. Y/N’s heart was racing, pounding so hard she could barely breathe. The world outside was silent again, but the deafening thud of the hit echoed in her ears, over and over.

“Y/N? Y/N! What the hell just happened?!” Emily’s voice was frantic, but Y/N barely heard her.

She stared ahead, wide-eyed, her hands trembling on the wheel. What just happened? Did I hit him? Did I just… kill someone?

Her throat was dry as she swallowed, trying to steady herself. "I… I think I hit someone. I’m not sure." Her voice was shaky, barely above a whisper.

“What?! Are you okay?! What happened?” Emily’s voice was nearly drowned out by the ringing in Y/N’s ears, her panic rising with every passing second. Y/N’s hands moved to unbuckle her seatbelt, her body feeling as if it was moving on autopilot. "I need to check. I’ll call you back."

“What? No, wait—” Y/N hung up, her mind spinning with terror as she opened the door and stepped out into the suffocating darkness. The wind was cool, but her skin prickled with cold sweat. The night was unnaturally quiet, save for the rapid beating of her heart in her ears.

Her eyes landed on the crumpled figure lying in the road just ahead, and her stomach lurched. She could barely see him in the dim light of her car’s headlights, his body twisted at an unnatural angle. Every instinct screamed for her to run, but her feet moved forward, her breath shallow.

She knelt beside the man, her hands trembling as she reached out. "Hey… Hey, are you okay?" Her voice cracked, almost pleading. She shook his shoulder gently, her breath catching in her throat. Please don’t be dead. Please, God, don’t be dead.

He didn’t respond, his body limp. Y/N’s heart plummeted. For a horrifying moment, she thought she’d killed him. I hit him, I really hit him. What if he’s dead? What if I—

But then she noticed it—his chest, rising and falling slowly. He was still breathing.

Y/N let out a shaky breath, a wave of relief crashing over her. "Oh, thank God…" she muttered, her hands moving to check for any sign of consciousness. "Hey, can you hear me? You’re gonna be okay, I’ll get you help. Just hang on."

Her voice was trembling as she stood, rushing back to the car to grab her phone. Her hands fumbled with the door handle, her pulse pounding in her ears. She had to call for help. Get him to the hospital.

But just as she reached into the car for her phone, something hard and solid slammed into the back of her head.

Pain exploded through her skull, white-hot and blinding. Her vision blurred instantly, the world spinning as her body crumpled to the ground. Her mind scrambled to make sense of what was happening, but all she could register was the unbearable, crushing pain.

She tried to blink away the darkness closing in around her, her breaths ragged and desperate, but the force of the blow had knocked her senses loose. Through the dizzy haze, she saw him—the man she had just hit, standing above her with a rock in his hand. The sickening realization crashed into her like a freight train.

It was a trap.

Her heart raced, adrenaline surging through her, but her limbs felt heavy, numb. She wanted to scream, to fight, but her vision was dimming, the pain dragging her under. The last thing she saw before everything went black was the man’s cold, emotionless face, looming over her as she slipped into the abyss.

Y/N's consciousness flickered like a dying flame, dragging her unwillingly from the void. The pain in her head was the first thing she registered-an unbearable, spliting agony that pulsed in time with her heartbeat, making her feel like her skull was about to crack open. She groaned, but the sound came out muffled, trapped behind something in her mouth. Panic started to set in as she realized she couldn't open her jaw; the taste of dirty fabric filled her mouth. A gag.

Disoriented, she blinked slowly, trying to make sense of where she was. Her vision was blurry, her surroundings a nauseating haze of darkness and shadow. Everything reeked. The stench hit her all at once- thick, putrid, suffocating. It was a mix of urine, sweat, blood, and something far more decayed. The smell clawed at the back of her throat, making her gag against the cloth. She fought back the urge to vomit, knowing it would only choke her.

Her body felt... wrong. Heavy. Aching. Every muscle was sore, every inch of her skin stung with a dull, throbbing pain. When she tried to move, she realized why: she was tied up. Her arms were bound tightly behind her back, the coarse rope biting into her wrists and cutting off circulation. Her legs were bound too, her ankles tied together so tightly she could barely wiggle her toes.

Where the hell am I? The last thing she remembered was... the man. The man she had hit. Her heart jumped into her throat, the memory rushing back to her all at once一the impact, the body on the road, the moment of relief when she realized he was still breathing. And then... then he had attacked her. Everything went black after that. And now I'm here.

Her breath quickened as she took in her surroundings. The room was small, cramped, with walls so grimy she could barely tell their original color. Blood smeared the walls in splatters and streaks, both fresh and old, the sickening reminder of whatever horrors had taken place here before. There were stains on the floor, dark, sticky patches that made her skin crawl. And then she noticed the other things一flesh, torn and hanging like trophies from hooks. Bones, carelessly strewn on the floor, cracked and splintered. She wanted to scream, but the gag silenced her, the terror building in her chest until it felt like she might suffocate on it.

But she wasn't alone.

In the dim light, she saw them-other women. At least five of them, maybe more. All of them were bound like her, gagged, naked, their bodies bruised and filthy. Some of them were barely conscious, their heads lolling weakly, while others stared at her with wide, terrified eyes. There was something about their expressions that sent ice shooting down her spine-those hollow, desperate eyes, like animals resigned to their fate.

One of them, a woman with tear-streaked cheeks and a gag so tight it had rubbed her mouth raw, met Y/N's gaze. She shook her head slowly, almost imperceptibly, her eyes full of warning. It was as if she was trying to tell her something, something Y/N didn't yet understand. Don't move. Don't fight. Don't make a sound.

But Y/N wasn't like them. She couldn't just sit here and wait to die. Fear surged through her veins, but so did adrenaline. She had to get out. I have to get out.

Slowly, carefully, she began to squirm, trying to shift her weight without making too much noise. Every movement was agonyーher wrists felt like they were being sliced open by the ropes, and her muscles screamed in protest. But she didn't stop. She couldn't. If she stayed here, she was dead.

As she inched her way toward the door, the other women watched her, their eyes filling with fresh tears, their bodies trembling as they silently begged her stop. But she couldn't stop. She had to get free. She had to.

The closer she got to the door, the more hope flickered inside her-until she fell. Her hands slipped, and her body hit the floor with a dull thud. She landed in something wet and slimy, the smell assaulting her senses immediately. It was a disgusting mix of rotting food, excrement, and something else- something thick and foul that clung to her skin and made her gag. Her stomach churned violently, the bile rising in her throat, but she swallowed it down, focusing on the door just a few feet away.

But then the door creaked open.

The sound was slow, deliberate, and it filled the room like a death knell, Y/N froze, her heart hammering in her chest, her body tensing as the dim light from the hall spilled into the room.

He stepped inside.

The man. The same man she had hit with her car. He stood in the doorway, his silhouette tall and menacing, his face twisted into a sickening grin. His eyes scanned the room, and when they landed on Y/N, his expression darkened. Rage boiled just beneath the surface of his face, twisting his features into something monstrous.

"What do we have here?" he muttered, his voice low and dangerous.

Before Y/N could even try to scramble away, he was on her. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her up, dragging her across the filthy floor as she screamed against the gag. Pain shot through her scalp, white-hot and unbearable, but the terror that gripped her heart was even worse. He was going to kill her. He was going to kill her right now.

"You stupid, stupid girl" he hissed, his voice thick with venom as he dragged her back to where she'd been. "You thought you could just leave? You thought you could escape?" He threw her down onto the cold floor, kicking her hard in the stomach for good measure.

The breath was knocked from her lungs, and for a moment, everything went dark. She gasped for air, her body convulsing in pain, but she couldn't get enough oxygen. Her vision blurred, her mind spinning with fear and panic. This is it. I'm going to die.

"You should be thankful l'm not going to punish you further;" he spat, kneeling down beside her, his breath hot and rancid against her face. "You're new. I'm feeling generous today."

Y/N's body shook uncontrollably as she lay there, too weak and terrified to move. But then, just as quickly as the anger had come, his expression changed. The rage melted away, replaced by something far more sinister. His hand, still tangled in her hair, began to stroke her scalp gently, his voice softening as if he hadn't just brutalized her.

"I'm sorry" he whispered, his tone dripping with faux concern. "I didn't mean to hurt you. You just made me so... angry. it's your fault, you know? If you hadn't tried to leave.." His fingers trailed down her neck, his touch lingering on her skin as he murmured, "You're so beautiful. So.. perfect."

"Soft," he murmured, as though admiring the texture of fabric instead of skin. He leaned in closer, inhaling deeply as he buried his face in her hair, his breath warm and sickening against her skin. "You smell so good... You're going to make the perfect doll."

Y/N's mind spun with confusion and horror. Doll? What did that mean? She wanted to scream, to thrash and fight, but her body felt like it was frozen, paralyzed by fear and exhaustion. Her tears welled up, spilling down her cheeks as she trembled beneath his touch.

Y/N's breath caught in her throat as his hand slid lower, caressing her naked body with possessive, almost reverent strokes. His fingers traced the curve of her breast, the dip of her waist, the swell of her hips. He was taking his time, savoring the touch, the control, the power. Y/N felt sick, her stomach twisting in knots as she lay there, helpless, her mind screaming for it to stop. But she couldn't Scream. She couldn't move.

"You're going to be perfect" he whispered, his lips brushing against her ear. "Just... perfect."

She wanted to disappear, to sink into the floor and never exist again. But all she could do was lie there, paralyzed by fear and disgust, as he continued to touch her. His hands roamed over her body, his breath hot and heavy against her skin. Every touch felt like fire, burning into her flesh, marking her. She could feel his excitement, his anticipation, and it made her want to vomit.

Then, suddenly, he stood up.

“Not today" he said, smiling down at her with a look of twisted affection. "Today isn't your day."

Y/N's stomach lurched as she realized what he meant. Not her day. But soon. Her tears blurred her vision, her entire body shaking uncontrollably as she tried to scream through the gag. She couldn't stop the sob that broke through, muffled but desperate.

He laughed softly, brushing her hair out of her face with a gentleness that felt like a mockery of kindness. "Shhh" he cooed, "don't cry. You'll ruin your pretty face. And I love your face."

Before she knows it, the man turned his attention to one of the other women-a blonde who had been sitting silently in the corner, her eyes wide with terror. Without a word, he grabbed her by the hair, yanking her to her feet with a sickening cruelty. The woman's body convulsed in terror, her eyes filling with tears as she let out a muffled scream behind her gag.

She struggled weakly, her limbs trembling, but it was no use. He dragged her toward the door, pulling her like a rag doll, her body limp with fear. She was looking at her. Like a lamb. Wide eyes. Begging for help. But Y/N couldn't do anything.

Y/N watched in horror as the door slammed shut behind them. The remaining women in the room sobbed softly, the sound of their crying mixing with Y/N's own frantic breaths.

Then the noise began.

The sound of metal on flesh, a sharp, wet thwack followed by a crunch that made Y/N's blood run cold. The woman's faint cries echoed through the walls, but they were quickly drowned out by the sickening sound of the ax splitting flesh and bone. The rhythm was steady, methodical, like someone chopping wood ーonly it wasn't wood. lt was human.

Y/N closed her eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks. She couldn't move. She couldn't breathe. All she could do was wait, knowing that soon... it would be her turn.

Should I make a part 2?

@ 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚, 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒆𝒃𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔.

[thechekhov]

Dungeon Meshi Quick Reacts: CH38

Rip to these promising mages. I assume they will not survive this massacre.

IS that where her lungs and kidneys are? Because like. She's huge. Her entire body is behind her. Do you really think she'd keep her vital organs in the little human bulb on the front?

I mean, he has a point. What are you going to do? Fight off more hoardes of dragons?

oh noooo, Kabru.... too bad. That's so unfortunate.... anyway.

It's curious that Laios only got knocked away. He was just as likely to have had his head squished like a grape.

Guys, this is absolutely not the time to be concerned for her privacy.

Yes, queen. Free the tiddy. Murder everyone in this dungeon. I support women's rights and women's wrongs.

.......that's. One way to do that. I guess.

.......what's that rock about.

Oh, I see. That's convenient.

This guy dungeons! Maybe he even dragons.

So we got north (tallmen? dwarves?) and then the easterners.... and now the elves of the west?

He's going to give her to the Americans?! ಠ_ಠ

To be fair, at least they HAD a plan. And they executed it. It's more than you did. I don't mean to point fingers but... at least they... ya know... did something.

Kabru's like 'no, no, hang on, I need to hear what batshit fucked up thing this dude is going to say next, this is important'

Laios is so stressed he broke character.

Then again, maybe it's healthy to let them slug it out a bit. Get it out of their system.

It's true. They wore fitbits and everything.

...hey, hold on a second.

Now hold on a minute.

Damn, this is. Kind of even worse because. I guess I could have guessed that Toshi was just pretending to be polite, like you do. Cultural differences.

But the painful thing is, Laios doesn't seem surprised. He just seems resigned. He's been told before that he's difficult to get along with. To the extent that he doesn't even consider Marcille and Chillchuck his friends? Even though they arguably both care about him? But because Toshiro didn't bother to be deadpan about him being a bit odd at times, Laios thought it meant that was fine.

And that kinda hurts. Like damn. Laios just wanted to make a true connection. And I can't really blame Toshiro either, he was just trying to keep the peace but. Damn.

Free her! Let her do her illegal magics! She deserves it! （︶^︶）

Thoughts:

Senshi just being annoyed about that one last harpy looking for scraps.... like "shoo, this ain't the time"

That gnome seems genuinely nice. I'm sorry Falin squished his pet undyne.

Kabru hugging his..... mage? Girlfriend???? Seems very...one sided. Kinda feel bad for her.

Laios and Toshiro still going at it, I see. Get it allout, boys.

Uhhhhhhhhhh ninja girls.

Aww, doggo.

Last question: Where did the cat go?

Senshi: I can fix that.

Are you all worried because he's finally making sense?!?!

Laios and he punched their singular braincells into several new ones, it seems.

F./....Falin... please give the caterpillar some privacy........

My man, maybe lead with that............

I can't believe Marcille was potentially more forward about her feelings.......

"his pupils are dilated" yes, thank you sherlock. You've finally realized what everyone else who meets Laios feels almost immediately. he's a monster freak club card carrying member. Welcome.

p.....pubby......

As long as he was also inside the dungeon with them.... yes.

The issue with Kabru isn't that he isn't trying his best. It's that Laios isn't trying at all.

On a scale of one to Kabru, how badly do you react to being offered a food you don't want to eat?

......oh no. He's so pathetic it's funny. He's growing on me.

Absolute morons, the pair of them. Immovable object meets unstoppable force. The funniest combination ever. Ghost type and normal type pokemon, forever throwing moves at each other that will never hit. Laios thinking he's made a friend. Kabru just barely stopping himself from killing Laios. Best comedy pair. Tom and Jerry in a can.

Anyway. What a great manga.

[with-my-calamitous-love]

SHOTGUN SHOT THROUGH THE HEART / CAN'T DRIVE PAST THE PLACES WE USED TO GO TO

keigo x reader x touya

part 2/4, part 1 here

the day of touya’s supposed arrest was the day you almost ended it all. a familiar winged hero comes to your rescue. olivia rodrigo mentioned!

inspired by drivers license + getaway car

today was enough to kill you.

4:26 am. your eyes open with no time for dreary morning exhaustion. his arms feel especially warm that morning, making it all the more harder to pry yourself away from him. in the end, it would be two broken hearts, and 4 hands bloody.

what kills you is how peaceful he looks. how touya, a man who had fire inside his heart, felt some semblance of comfort when he laid next to you. you prayed he was dreaming, dreaming of something better than this.

you pack throw your keys and what little cash there is left into the purse he stole for you. your as quiet as possible, not necessarily to conceal your movement, but rather your cries. you don't want to do this. you want to go there, and lay with your favorite arsonist. you want to lay there and love him into the world catches up with you. but you fucking can't.

and the worst part is, he's watching you.

he could stand up. he could yell, and demand to know what's going on. he could burn you to a crisp or pull you into his arms. he could promise you forever or break your heart more as you slowly twist the doorknob open.

he hated the fact that he was suspicious about you, but its god's cruelest joke that that gut feeling is somehow always right. he doesn't what exactly is going down, but he knows you're not coming back. his hearts not pure, far from it, but it still hurts him watching you leave. you turned into the one thing he wished you never would be.

but he's quiet. because deep down, somewhere deep in his heart, he knew this would happen eventually. he can't find it in himself to blame you. he blames himself for thinking you wouldn't.

so with a gentle, silent sigh, he lets you go.

just because someone expects betrayal doesn't mean they can't cry when it happens.

you breathe again once you finally reach the car, ducking past the sirens, officers and god damn heroes that are waiting outside the hotel. many of them, the figures you see on t.v and on magazines attempt to acknowledge you, to thank you for your efforts, but your oxygen is running out. you slam the door shut behind you and speed off into the early dusk of the morning.

red lights and stop signs become nothing but a blur as shaky sobs take over your lungs. your grip on the steering wheel loosens as you see his face in the rearview. your feet on the dashboard, laughing at crude jokes overtaking the sounds of traffic. you pray that he'll forgive you, though its useless.

by now, they've broken into the room.

by now, they've got him on his knees.

by know, he realizes just why you left so soon.

you drive alone, despite the various honks and sirens that become more and more evident at your recklessness. suddenly, you see him everywhere- sidewalks, car reflections, alleyways and deeply embedded in the crevices of your heart.

you said forever, and now you drove the getaway car.

when keigo calls you, you answer with a shaky huff as his voice comes through the receiver. he updates you on everything, much to your dismay.

"what do you mean you guys didn't arrest him!? what the fuck happened there?!" you scream.

your ex-fiance's voice is filled with guilt as he explains everything. "it... was a disaster. we underestimated him. he was unstoppable, angrier than i've ever seen him. and when i told him you were the one who gave up his location..."

your heart may as well have stopped when he said that.

"you... told him...?"

the blonde winces at the tone in your voice, realizing his slip up. for a hero that was so used to lying, being calculated and playing a role that wasn't for him, he struggled to hide the most of painful of truths to you.

"shit, i'm... fuck, i'm sorry, babe. it just slipped out." the coward in every man, and evidently in keigo, tries to cover up what he revealed about you. it obviously doesn't work.

a shaky, sob-filled scream escapes your throat as you dangerously speed through the traffic and onto the bridge connecting your now abandoned hiding spot to the city. other drivers are understandably honking at you, flipping you off and asking who the hell granted you your license. you're too distraught to care, seeing as the guilt of turning touya in overtakes you.

you did the right thing, and it tore your heart apart at the seems.

keigo is still on the phone with you, keeping note of the sirens and cars he hears from your end. he quickly tries to diffuse the situation before anything else happens. "[y/n], love, i'm gonna need you to pull over." he cautions. "i'll come to you."

"i'm fine." you lie, not wanting him to see you like this. you stare at the watery depths below, reasoning with yourself not to do anything rash. just make it back to your apartment, wrap yourself up in your bedsheets and lay there until this is all over.

keigo sees right through this, as if sensing your inner turmoil (if it wasn't already blatantly obvious.) he begs you just to pull over, to stop driving in the state your in, and just let him come to you. let him make sure you come out of this alive. its what he wants, and its probably what touya wants, too.

you grit your teeth at his pleas, too heartbroken to think rationally right now. you're a reckless, ticking time bomb, and you all know it. "god, i know you care about me, kei. i know you still have feelings for me."

he's silent on the other end of the phone. his heart clenches, wincing at your harshness. he was never trying to hide how he never fully got over you, even after you professed your love for the man you ran away with. somehow, you still had that hold on his heartstrings.

"yeah, well, so what if do? what difference does it make i still don't want you to kill yourself."

his hand shakes as he holds the phone in his hand, his worry growing more and more apparent with each passing second.

"you made me betray the person i loved so much, maybe as much as i loved you."

theres a heavy silence that hangs over the call screen. its wrong to blame keigo for what happened. either way, touya was still a dangerous villain who had to be stopped. all keigo did was open your eyes to the truth. probably because he's a hero, and thats what heroes do, but also because he loves you, and doesn't want to see your heartbreak over a criminal.

but its that last part that makes keigo's heart sink to his stomach. the idea that the amount of love you had for him was equivalent to the love you had for touya.

even after the end of your breakup, he still wished the best for you. he wished for you to be happy, just not happier than how you were with him. as selfish as that is.

his heart aches, the pain of what you're going through beginning to creep up on him too. he o desperately wants to tell you that everything will be okay, that he'll be your hero and take all your hurt away, but in that regard? he's powerless.

"keigo, i-"

he listens, hoping you'll finish your sentence. but you don't, even after he yells after you. "what? [y/n], what? hey!?"

his heart stops in his chest as a loud crash resonates over your end, followed by honking, screaming, and worst of all, the sound of something splashing into the watery depths below. what scares him the most is what he doesn't know. are you okay? can he still save you in time?

when the line goes dead, he quicky takes off, setting out to find you before its too late.

✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚

theres an overwhelming cold feeling that takes you. you're oddly relaxed, despite the dull ache that erupts in your head. you aren't sure whats happening fully, your memories a messy haze. right now, nothing else matters as your body floats through the cold state of purgatory.

theres suddenly a sharp pain on your chest, followed by a desperate plea you can’t quite discern. theres a familiar taste on your lips, one that speaks love to you. that resounding pressure on your chest makes your heart thump, causing memories to suddenly replay in your mind like a film screen. memories with someone you loved.

you and keigo had met through some friend you can’t really remember. two deep in chardonnay, and you were the only one that guessed his antics during charades. the pounding of your heart continues as you recall the memory. you went from one kiss to getting married in just the span of a few months.

first loves are special like that.

he found pieces of you in every song he listened to, became utterly addicted to smell of your perfume and your bare shoulder in the morning. he loved your laughter, the way your hands fit in his. he loved that you saw him, even in the moments he could barely recognize himself.

the thing about first love, however, is that its also your first loss.

fears of trapping you in a marriage, the same one he had seen growing up, became all the more evident for the hero. he didn’t want to hold you down, to chain you to him when the two of you were meant to fly freely, happily. he felt like you deserved to love someone else.

and eventually, you did. though he never expected the firstborn son turned villain you ran off with.

but as keigo performs cpr on you, begging you to come back to life, he pleads with the sky. with anyone who might hear him, or whoever was trying to take you away from this world.

if it meant you’d start breathing again, he’d fly up to the clouds and catch lightning in a bottle. if it meant you’d open your eyes, he’d fix every last mistake he ever made. if it meant you’d love him again… well, he’d deal with the truth of that if it meant you’d simply live again.

he almost gives up, looking down at his own, wet gloved hands as he comes to terms with the fact that his attempts may be futile. you were injured in the crash, losing blood from cuts and bruises. on top of that, you had drowned, the cruel, murky depths of the sea taking you away.

he’s already covered in water, but a singular tear drop runs down his eye.

your hearts beating, fuelled purely by the love you’ve gotten to experience. you see two people- the man who brought you back to life, and the one that felt like the best way to die.

before you can discern who is who, your heart catches up with your lungs, taking a desperate gasp of air. you immediately turn to your side, ignoring the cuts on your body in order to turn over and cough out the water. its salty and stings your throat, your vision hazy and your body shivering.

“breathe.” a voice commands you, rubbing circles on your back. keigo sighs in relief, pulling you into his lap. you cling like the life buoy you would have needed just a couple of minutes ago.

you don’t even realizing you’re still crying, not until the blonde strokes your cheeks free from the tears. he tilts your head up so he can look at you.

“you were dead a minute ago.” he says, his usual nonchalant behaviour replaced by a rare glimmer of worry. you were the only person that pulled those feelings out of him, anyway.

your throat sings of salt, body aching from the cold and the blood loss. “yeah, well… you’re not gonna get rid of me that easily.” you choke out.

he almost laughs, opting to pull you into a tight hug. with as much strength, though theres not much, you embrace him back. yes, you’re still mad. yes, you’re still heartbroken. but he somehow made your tortured heart beat once more.

he wraps his coat around you, handing you off to the paramedics. he promises to meet you in the hospital after he’s done helping other survivors, sending you off with a tender kiss to your forehead. keigo looks back, seeing the accident that left you dead for a moment.

touya, from afar, is watching too.

the look on his face is something you can’t quite decipher. he’s mad as hell you sold him out, especially at the behest of hawks- but something dragged him to the scene of the accident. something in him had to know you’d be okay.

he watches as the ambulance takes you away, before turning away and leaving the scene.

tags 🐚

@whenanafallsinlove @satirediary @bbluefllame @crushmeeren (aka all the people that would probably choose touya’s life over a thousand peoples 😭 cuz me too)

[beautifulfuckup99]

How about an insecure reader who thinks she is unworthy of love and keeps pushing JK away and wants to keep it just friends but he doesnt care and snaps one night showing her how much he wants her 🤭😉

Awe! So cute! Got you right now! Lol

Title: I can handle it

Warning(s): Talks of body weight, Insecure!Y/N, Face-S!tting, Dom!Jungkook, D!rty Talk, Spank!ng, Some Hair Pull!ng, Curs!ng, and some well-earned fluff!

Author's Note: So this will follow a curvy and/or plus sized Y/N because as a fellow 'big girl', I know we deserve some damn good smut too! Hope you enjoy! Oh! And this will be and "Idol!AU"...

*************************************

Monday:

"Jungkook, stop!" You snap, finally fed up with today as you move out of his arms. "I'm not going." You declare as you walk back into your closet to change out of the dress. Tonight was nerve-wracking. Management had given Jungkook the green light to make a public outing with you in order to confirm that he was in fact in a relationship.

This would be your first introduction to ARMY, this giant mass of unstoppable force, that could make or break you and your relationship. And you were panicking.

"Y/N, what was wrong with that one?" Jungkook asks in the same calm and soft tone as he always had with you.

But how long would that last?

How long would he put up with you before realizing he could have literally anyone else? Famous or not.

You were spiraling now.

Just fucking great!

"I looked like a fucking pumpkin!" You say with an eyeroll. "Tell the guys I'm sorry, go out with them on your own. We'll do this reveal another time." You state and Jungkook frowns, walking into your closet to actually face you.

"First off..." He says, eyebrows knitted together in slight frustration. He would never let that out in his tone though. "Orange is a great color on you. And secondly, we can't keep putting this off..." He says as you rummage through your rack of clothes to try and find something. Nothing looked good enough.

"Baby, could you please just leave? I wanna change." You say, never a fan of changing in front of him. He rolls his eyes at that.

"Y/N, we've literally had sex before, yet I can never see you naked? It makes no sense." He sighs and you turn to him.

"Out, Jungkook. Now!" You order as you fuss at him. He sighs heavily before just giving in and leaving. There was always tomorrow...

Tuesday:

"Mm... Something smells good..." Jungkook says pleasantly as he wraps his arms around you from behind. You sigh deeply and move from his arms, not liking the feeling of his hands so close to your stomach.

"It's nothing special." You say casually and Jungkook frowns a bit at that and sighs softly before letting it go. He did that a lot when dealing with you. But you were worth that. Even if you never saw it that way...

"Oh? Nothing special, my ass. It smells like Samgyeopsal!" He laughs softly and it almost melts your icy demeanor. Keyword: almost.

"Wait till it's done, to see." You mutter and he laughs more.

"No. Let me see!" He says as he tries reaching over you to uncover the pan.

"Kookie, no! Let it be a surprise!" You laugh as you move in the way so he can't uncover the pan.

"Let me see!" He laughs as he starts to play fight with you.

"No! Go away, wait till dinner!" You fuss and gasp as you feel Jungkook wrap his arms around you and you feel him begin to lift you.

"No! Jungkook, put me down!" You practically shriek in panic. He's quick to put you down and you push him away. "Don't do that! You'll hurt yourself!" You say as you back away, feeling panicked. Hiding your body with baggy clothes was one thing, but having him always trying to grab you and hold you? God, it was like he'd find out, without a shadow of a doubt, that he was dating a plus-size woman. And you didn't want that.

"Y/N, calm down. I was joking. Plus, I lift more than that at the gym-" You cut him off.

"I don't care! Don't do that again!" You say and huff before storming away, leaving your boyfriend upset and hurt in the kitchen.

Wednesday:

"What are you looking at?" You scrunch your nose as Jungkook gets comfy on the end of your bed, watching you as you read your chapter for the night.

"Just... Watching my beautiful, smart girlfriend read." He chuckles softly and you shift at that.

"Don't be weird." You mutter as you go back to reading.

You had this theory going. See, if you let yourself fall for Jungkook and all his sweet words, you'll only feel stupid when he finally comes to his senses and leaves you. So, acting cold and nonchalant? At least you could act like you don't care when he breaks up with you. And what's better is he'll never get the satisfaction of knowing he hurt you! It was the perfect plan!

"Why do you do that? Just take the compliment..." He sighs and you look up from your book at face him and breathe deeply. You knew you didn't have much time with him left. He only had this week off, hence why he wanted to come out publicly with you this week...

"No." You say finally and shut your book. He sighs and moves closer to you, gently touching your thigh and you grab his hand. "Night, Jungkook." You say simply and he sighs.

Thursday:

"Hey, baby. Good work out today?" You ask gently as Jungkook comes bouncing into your apartment.

"Yeah! It was great. You should come with me next time to-" You cut him off.

"I like working out alone." You state fast. Last thing you wanted was for your, very toned, boyfriend to watch you run on a treadmill for an entire hour.

"Well, I just thought-" You cut him off again.

"I like my privacy." You say and walk past him to go to your room.

"Y/N... Come on, I... I just think It'll be cool for you to watch me!" He tries as you shut the bedroom door. He groans and rubs his still sweaty face. He sighs and shakes his head. "Ok. I'll cook dinner tonight?" He calls with no response. "Ok. Got it..." He mutters and shakes his head.

Friday:

"Oh! Here." Jungkook says as he tries pouring more noodles into your bowl and you're fast to pull it away.

"No! I'm good." You assure fast as you shake your head.

"But you only had a little bit." He argues gently as he tries again.

"No, Jungkook. It's not like I need the extra food." You snort, trying to make light of your appearance. He frowns.

"What does that mean? Food is food." He says and you hum at that. "Y/N, I don't like when you-" You cut him off.

"Tell the truth?" You raise an eyebrow. "Jungkook, you look fucking amazing. That's a given." You state. "I don't, and that's just as obvious." You shrug.

"Y/N!" He says just as offended as he'd be if you were to make fun of him. "What's been going on with you this week? Ever since I brought up going public with you, you've been-" You cut him off again.

"A bitch?" You ask. You couldn't explain the attitude change. Maybe a part of you was hoping to tire Jungkook out enough for him to leave you? Maybe you were hoping to spend this whole week picking fights with him so you wouldn't have to go public with him? And then he'd go back to Korea and you two could go back to skype calls and long text messages instead.

"No! Y/N, stop." He says, shaking his head. "You're fucking perfect the way you are. I love you. Stop acting so... Cold." He says and you watch him closely and feel your heart clench at the fear of letting yourself believe him. You couldn't.

"I'm gonna go wash dishes." You state and get up, walking off.

Saturday:

"No. No this is all wrong." You sigh as you eye yourself in the mirror.

"I think you look sexy." Jungkook smirks as he comes around to grab you from behind as your eyes stay glued to your stomach area that you could see through the tight black dress you had on.

"No. You can see... Everything. And it's so... tight." You pout a bit as you feel the cool metal of Jungkook's lip ring trail along your neck.

"So? We're going out to a bar. You look good." He encourages as he trails his lips towards your pulse point.

You feel the anxiety building up as you think about tonight. Going public, what that means for you both. The 'what if's pile on as you stand there.

What if he gets bored of you?

What if you guys don't last?

What if you get hurt?

What if it becomes clear to everyone that he can do so much better?

You couldn't do this...

You liked your relationship over the phone. Where it was safe. Where he was where he was, and you were where you were. Where he only saw what you wanted him to see. Where you could hide from him. It's always easier to love from afar. You get to use your imagination for the rest and fantasy is always better than reality.

You were spiraling again...

Just fucking great.

"No. I'm not doing this. I can't." You say finally and pull away. "I look horrible, I'm not going out like this." You state as you try moving away from Jungkook, only to be yanked back.

"Y/N, enough." He says and you move away from him.

"No! 'Enough' yourself! I'm not going!" You huff and turn to go to the closet. "My fat ass is sitting hom-" You're finally cut off by Jungkook.

"Stop talking about yourself like that, god damnit!" He finally snaps and you pause, never hearing that tone from him before.

"I am sick of you acting like this. You're so fucking sexy, and you wanna walk around like you're not? You're driving me fucking crazy. Come here." He orders as he pulls you right against him.

"Jungkook-" He cuts you off again.

"I don't wanna hear you anymore." He orders. "Do I make myself clear?" He asks firmly as he grabs your neck to make you look up at him. You feel your face heat up and you can only nod. You feel his strong arms wrap firmly around your waist before he lifts you up. You want to stop him, you want to warn him about your weight, but you can't speak as he takes you to the bed and tosses you back on the bed.

He grips your thighs. "So fucking sexy. I love your thighs and ass." He pants and turns you on to your stomach fast. You're stunned by the strength. "And all you wanna do is talk shit about the body I love..." He growls and smacks your ass cheek, groaning. "Fuck, I love watching it jiggle." He groans and you moan at the sting.

You feel your dress bunch up at your waist and look back at him as best as you can as he smacks your ass again. "Fuck, baby..." He whispers and grabs your hand, pulling it to his crutch.

"You feel how hard you get me? Hm? And you still think you're not perfect? Please." He scoffs as you shiver at the feel of his bulge under your hand. You can't help but open your legs more in anticipation.

He moves away from you and lays back on the bed. "Come here." He orders and you open your mouth, but he grabs your face. "Did I fucking say talk? Hm?" He whispers as he shakes your head for you as you moan out a soft 'no', loving how he controlled your body.

"No. I didn't. Shut the fuck up. And get on my fucking face." He orders and your eyes widen, but you move on top of him, mindful of your weight still.

You hover over his face, and he grips your hips. "I said sit." He whispers.

"Jungkook, I don't wanna-" He cuts you off.

"Why do you think I work out every day? Hm? I can handle you, Y/N. I want you smothering me." He orders and you blush hard.

"Jungkook... I... J-Just... Tap out if it gets too much..." You whisper and he snorts at that.

"I'm a man, Y/N. Tapping out is for wusses." He states.

"You say that till you pass out." You mutter, trying to joke too. He looks you right in the eyes.

"It'll be the best way to go. Now sit." He orders and you bite your lip, but slowly lower yourself on to his face more.

"Watch yourself. In the mirror. Watch how sexy you are..." He whispers against your underwear covered pussy. You nod and slowly look up at the mirror as you feel his mouth move between your pussy lips. You gasp softly and run your fingers through his hair as he teases your clit through your underwear and leaves bite marks along your inner thighs.

Soon, your underwear is pushed to the side as he focuses on sucking and licking your clit. You try and keep your eyes open, but you're a moaning mess as you feel him work his tongue deeper between your folds.

"Ah... Ah... Oh, baby!" You moan and feel his tongue wiggle towards your entrance, slowly sliding into you. His arms wrap around your thighs, and he pulls you harder against him. You can feel his nose on your clit and his tongue moving deeper inside of you, and it's as if he's smothering himself in your pussy.

Looking in the mirror by your bed, you can see your hair a mess, your dress bunched up around your waist, and Jungkook's hand undoing his belt as he lays under you.

You groan at the sight of him using one hand to pull out his cock that's already hard. He strokes it as he focuses on eating you out.

"Oh, baby!" You practically purr, never feeling so... desired before.

He moans deeply into your pussy, and you can't help but rock your hips against his face, gripping his hair more tightly. "So good! It's so good! Baby!" You moan as your head rolls back a bit. You can't lift yourself up from his face even if you wanted to. His tatted and solid arm was still wrapped tightly around your thigh to hold you on his face like an oxygen mask. Oh, the irony...

"I'm gonna cum!" You moan out loudly, unable to stop yourself. God, you loved feeling manhandled like this.

Hearing your moans and cries, Jungkook grips your hips with both hands, moving you more so you're riding his tongue and grinding against his nose, making a mess on his face. "Oh... My god, yes..." You whine as you feel it building effortlessly. You needed this release. And all at once, it hits you.

"Jungkook!" You call out as you cum hard on his face. He doesn't stop though. You squeak at the constant rubbing on your now sensitive clit and fall back on to the bed to lessen the pressure on your bundle of nerves, but Jungkook doesn't let go of your hips, and instead moves to lay on his stomach, still eating you out.

"Oh my god! Baby! T-Too... Too much!" You pant as your back aches at the aftershock.

"Mm... so fucking sweet..." He mumbles against your clit between heavy pants, your juices covering his face like a freakin face mask. It makes you blush as he kisses up your body. "Get on your stomach. Face the mirror." He orders.

"I get it, you like my body-" He cuts you off.

"Too late for that. I want it drilled into you." He says and forces you into that position.

You blush hard and try covering your face, but he's quick to smack your ass hard. "Look. Look at how pretty you get when I slide in." He pants in your ear, and you shiver and look in the mirror.

You gasp shakily as you feel him start to slide in. "Atta girl. Stay just like that..." He praises breathlessly and reaches around to hold your neck as he fucks you slow and deep. His hand moves to your chin and pulls your head back so you can look up at him.

"You like to overthink? Hm?" He whispers and you blush but nod, admitting to being so trapped in your own mind. "It's ok, baby. I'll just fuck your brains out." He assures quietly against your forehead in an innocent and comforting tone before he kisses your forehead.

You can't help but hum excitedly and feel his thick cock slide out of you slowly. He moans lowly as your walls clench around him. "Fuck, baby. Don't wanna let me go?" He taunts and you giggle breathlessly.

"Fuck no. You feel too good..." You shiver and he smacks your ass.

"Yeah? Beg." He whispers and you moan softly as he slowly slides back into you.

"Please. Please, I-I don't wanna think more. Fuck me. Fuck me, please, bab-" You're cut off by him grabbing your hair hard and making you look at the mirror.

"Look at you. You see how fucking pretty you are? Hm? Did I get it through your thick fucking skull yet?" He whispers in your ear before slamming into you deeply, which makes you scream out in pleasure.

"Yes! Yes! Yes, baby. Yes!" You call out as he starts fucking you roughly.

"Say sorry for being so mean." He growls in your ear as he pounds you relentlessly.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, baby..." You whine, eyes rolling back as he starts hitting your spot. "Right! There! Oh my god!" You scream out as he keeps going, no desire to stop just yet, smirking at how he had turned you into a moaning mess.

"Fuck me back, baby. Let me watch that ass jiggle." He orders as he grabs your waist to pull your ass up. You shiver and start to fuck yourself on his thick cock as he smacks your now red ass cheek.

"Fuck yes. Bounce that ass on me, baby." He groans as you watch through the mirror as he watches your body in awe. He really did love you...

You feel your heart skip a beat. He did find you attractive. He did want you. And you had him wrapped around your finger with such ease. You'd spent all this time treating him wrong, to what cost? He was still here. He still wanted you. Who were you to get in his way?

"Kiss me." You shiver and he does just that, kissing you sloppily as your bodies move freely...

Sunday:

"Congratulations, you two! Beautiful couple, really." The paparazzi calls out as he snaps more photos of you as you hold Jungkook's hand tighter while being led out of the coffee shop you'd just finished having brunch at. You both smile sheepishly at the attention and say nothing, deciding that a statement wasn't needed...

You get in the back of the car first so Jungkook would have some time with his fans, to wave at them and such. You see different girls screaming to him about how much they love him and for a second you feel a tug to your heart. An ugly 'what if' trying to rear its ugly head. But instead, you just watch the man who had made love to you all night long last night and feel your breath return to normal.

You had nothing to be ashamed of. Nothing to worry about. Because you had a man who could handle all of you just fine.

And you could handle him too...

[green-eyedfirework]

It was a stupid idea to take a job like this. He'd waited and waited for his eye to heal and finally got fed up with waiting. He'd taken the first offer that had come his way.

And here he was, trapped on all fours, unable to speak, and with far more problems than a mere lack of depth perception.

He tried to shout and it came out a roar.

Fuck this. Fuck Gotham. He'd only come here because he needed something to get out of his own head, to stop seeing Joey's wide, terrified eyes every time he slept. He needed to run, to flee far and fast enough that he could outrun his greatest mistake.

He shouldn't have waited. He shouldn't have convinced himself that he was invincible, he was unstoppable, he was the best killer on the planet. He shouldn't have hesitated when he saw the man holding his son prisoner.

And here he was, trapped after all.

Slade grunted and forced himself forward, awkwardly crawling on his new limbs. No one had mentioned that there was fucking magic involved and now he was seeing shit in colors that didn't exist and trying to get used to moving four legs instead of two. The eye was still gone, though.

He couldn't even get the magician to undo it, because the man was dead.

When will you get it through your thick fucking skull that murder cannot solve everything, Adeline had screamed at him. Of course, she'd then done her level best to murder him, so Slade felt justified in ignoring her opinion.

Slade continued to drag himself to the warehouse door--and then paused. Where was he planning to go? His gear had been blown up by magic and his safehouse was blocks away. He couldn't unlock his security without opposable thumbs, or pick up a phone to call Wintergreen, or communicate with anyone. There wasn't a convenient sign hanging over his head that said 'actually a human!'.

He had, he realized chillingly, no idea if it could even be undone.

The sound of footsteps broke his horrified reverie and Slade immediately searched for a place to hide. He was a large animal, a predator judging by the sharp teeth and claws, and he did not want to meet whatever passed for Animal Control in this fucked-up city.

Unfortunately, he ended up cornered by animals of a different kind.

"Holy zoo jailbreak, Batman, is that a tiger?" a brightly colored kid exclaimed, peering from between a dark, forbidding shadow. Slade cast a glance at himself--he could only see white fur but he supposed it was possible. "How did it get here?"

Slade made a threatening growl as the vigilantes sidled forward and they froze. Well, Batman froze and Robin ducked around him.

"Robin!" Batman said sharply, but the kid ignored his orders. Of course he did, he was a kid, and Slade felt his ire grow--he had never meant to put Joey in danger and now his son was mute. What the fuck was Batman thinking, dressing his son as a brightly colored target and taking him out crimefighting.

"He's hurt, B," Robin said, still creeping forward. Slade snarled as loudly as he got, sending Batman rocking forward, but Robin ignored it. "See, he's bleeding!"

There was something wet and irritating in the crook of Slade's neck, and he kept having to fight the insane urge to lick it, but he held his ground, roaring furiously as Robin got closer.

"Robin!" Batman called out, now sounding distinctly worried, but the kid was barely a yard away from Slade now.

"It's okay," Robin murmured to Slade, holding out his empty hands. "I'm just trying to help you."

Jesus fucking Christ. Did this kid have no self-preservation or what? He was close enough to touch now, and while Slade wanted to lash out and test the sharpness of his claws, he also wasn't a monster. No matter what Adeline said.

He wasn't going to maul some kid barely older than Joey. Not when he kept seeing skin split open by a sharp knife, blood welling up almost as fast as the panic.

"It's okay," Robin soothed, gently placing a hand on Slade's head. Slade's ears flicked irritably. "I'm going to check if you're okay." Slade was not happy, but he let Robin examine the wound area on his blind side, keeping his eye fixed on Batman.

He growled low and deep when he caught the man creeping forward.

"Robin," Batman said tightly, "leave it. They can check on it when they take it to the zoo."

Slade snarled, loud and furious. He wasn't going to go meekly into some cage.

"But what about the evidence of magic?" Robin pointed out sensibly. He was a smart kid. "I don't think Gotham Zoo's equipped to take care of a magical tiger."

Very smart kid. Slade managed to figure out how to fold his legs and leaned heavily on the kid, half-pinning him in place as he glared down Batman.

Batman sighed, loud and put-upon. "Robin," he said, somewhere between firm and exasperated. "That's a tiger, not a pet. We're not putting it in the Batcave."

"He needs help," Robin said, voice wavering. "You said our job was to help whoever needed it."

Slade got to watch Batman, Dark Knight of Gotham, dreaded terror of criminals and vagabonds, fold like a bad hand.

"You're telling Alfred," Batman growled as Robin cheered in victory.

Slade decided to go along with the nudging. Batman and Robin were the only ones who knew about the magic, which meant they were his best chance at getting a solution.

It had absolutely nothing to do with the ear scritches. Nothing at all.

[batsplat]

i really want to hear your opinion on this. I feel like some people underestimate pecco a lot. most of the people I’ve seen on here are talking like it’s certain that marc will do better than pecco next year, but I’ll be surprised if it’ll be actually like this. pecco has way more experience on the ducati and nobody understands the ducati like pecco does. see race weekends like assen or mugello, he’s literally unstoppable and I feel like he’s even holding back. plus pecco is 26yo and he’s in his prime and probably will be for at least two more years before the decline inevitably begins, and he’s injury free! but the real advantage he has over marc, in my opinion, is that he literally lives under pressure and he already knows that marc will try to hit him on the track and above all mentally. he knows what he is getting into. when he talks about wanting to maintain harmony in ducati it’s because he’s already aware that marc will ruin it. like yeah ppl r saying a lot that marc is going to destroy pecco and all that, but right now the facts state that pecco is a 2 times wdc back to back (probably 3 by the end of this year) and right now on the ducati he’s the best rider of the grid. marc won his last wdc in 2019, it’s been years since he won, and he got his arm fucked up in the process. so yeah marc will try everything to destroy pecco but he needs to be careful to not destroy himself in the process. (this is not marc hate, I’m just tired of seeing people understanding pecco)

first of all, I'm broadly with you on a lot of this, anon, though I wouldn't quite as far as to say I'm predicting pecco to beat marc. second of all, I do think I have a bit of a problem where I have my rational sports brain - but I also have the other less rational bits of my brain. and some of those irrational bits are currently stuck in this mode where I have two different fundamentally contradictory mindsets that are kinda... mental blocks in terms of me predicting what will actually happen next year

mental block #1 is 'you've been following sports all your life and you know how this goes'. like, I've kinda been conditioned to think if you aren't a wunderkind, one of the talents of the century, already a megastar when you were in your nappies bla bla, you're basically fucked? certainly fucked when you are going up against one of those prodigies. you may get close and trick everyone into thinking it's actually possible, but... idk. this is a mindset that broadly stood me in good stead when I started watching motogp, like you just don't bet against fuck you talent. something like 2017, I never really thought marc was going to lose that title. so when I look at marc and pecco, however much I rate pecco there's a bit of my brain that automatically goes 'yeah but marc will win anyway'. it's that kind of... sometimes things that look slim differences in sports, margins that should be small aren't actually small at all, and in a way the end outcome feels like it was always kinda inevitable. I get that same sense when I'm watching 2005 last lap duels between sete and valentino - these are situations where you both parties should have a decent shot, but somehow you know that if you ran the simulation one hundred times, it'd basically always go one way. it's the illusion of competitiveness. one guy's always got something a little bit extra in the back pocket

mental block #2 is that it's actually been really fucking long since I've seen marc win and there's been a lot of false dawns on this front. I thought he'd win the title in 2020. I kinda thought he'd win the title in 2021. I was at least open to the possibility he'd win it in 2022. okay, in 2023... but you could still go 'yeah but he's finally physically fit now' (or, well, you could until the first race weekend was done). and honestly? gut feeling, I was feeling pretty bullish about 2024, partly because I didn't think the gap between the bike specs would be this noticeable. so by now it's a bit? you know, I kinda need to see him win again to believe it? which he probably does too, just a touch, and that makes it a completely different proposition from all those other titles... within this sport in particular, it's really not that easy to recover from years in the wilderness. you never really know if he can get close to handling the field like he did in his prime until he does it again. and... however impressive I've found him this season, which I really, absolutely have, I still haven't seen that from him. I also feel like currently... the magic is still there but his pace is so fragile, and that used to be the really scary thing about him - the relentlessness of his pace. this year, it's one lap pace, it's weekend to weekend, it's how sometimes he's slower in races than you thought he'd be - and yes, there are all these other explanations, but... well, again, if the bike is holding him back, if it's the ducati adaptation period, then that's all well and good. but I'm not really going to feel that's true until I actually see the next step

now obviously both of those things can't be true - and the fun thing about next year is that I don't actually feel it's a done deal. because, yes, people do underestimate pecco. and also because, yes, there's still some real question marks about the version of marc we're getting. just look at this sachsenring situation... obviously 'someone could get injured' is quite a depressing way to look at future title fight permutations, but you can't really treat it as a certainty that it won't happen, no? I feel like one element of last year that doesn't quite get the attention it deserves is that pecco was winning that title a whole lot more comfortably before a bike ran over his leg. the race right after that was misano, where pecco had won the two previous years and there's zero reason to believe he couldn't have done so again rather than take two laboured p3's. that's not a title fight anyone's primarily remembering as an injury arc (cf too the le mans crash) - but it clearly did play a big role and could easily have been decisive, without actually taking out one of those two contenders of competition. marc used to win his titles with a whole lot of throwing himself down the road to find the limit of his bike, but he can't afford to do that any more (if he ever could). we still need to see what version of marc we're getting, if we're getting a version who can just be fast anywhere come sunday - or a very good version of marc who isn't quite that. who knows exactly how much worse the gp23 is than the gp24! who knows how much more there still is to come in terms of ducati potential from marc! we have rough indications, but it's far from definitive. maybe one of them doesn't click at all with next year's bike! we'll only know when we see it play out!

and yet I still expect deep down that marc wins that. it's just kinda supreme belief in his fuck you levels of talent, the belief that he'll figure it out somehow because I've seen him do it so many times. and of course, the other big problem is we don't know what version of pecco we're getting! I have talked before about how historically unusual pecco is as a champion in many ways, which for me always makes it quite tricky to figure out what he'll do in basically any situation. like, where is his ceiling? is he still going to get better? is he going to get his act together? my problem is that I feel like I enter every single season going 'yeah I reckon this year pecco will get his act together, ugh he's going to dominate the field' and then it's just a bit? is this just who you are as a rider, or is this something you can still change?

the thing is, with my fullest respect to pecco's titles, however much I enjoyed those train wrecks, obviously you cannot do this against a version of marc marquez that is remotely up to scratch. like, you just cannot. pecco cannot do a 2022 and expect to win the title. against an even slightly serious version of marc marquez. on the same bike. pecco can't really do a 2023 either. I'll give him a pass for some of those late season results, but if you're chucking it down the road that often early on then, yeah, no

that being said... low key if you ignore all the little numbers, this year is actually a serious title fight...?

like I am always aware that acknowledging this could make them both dnf five times in a row but...? there's one sunday race one of them haven't won, and cota is its own thing. everything else...? whisper it softly but this is a good title fight? 2022-23 were sort of accidentally good because everyone's errors and runs of good forms and performance trajectories just kinda coalesced so you got late season drama, but this? consistent high level of performance from both blokes, decent wheel-to-wheel action between both title rivals at several different races (definitely more than in 2015 and everyone remembers that as a classic, also on course to be more than in 2013 and most years 2007-12). idk, at what point do we just have to acknowledge these guys are pretty good at what they do? sure they're on the strongest bike, as are the vast majorities of blokes who win titles historically. but bastianini's reasonably highly rated and he's not even gotten particularly close to winning a sunday race this year on the exact same bike - one p2 on merit snagged on the last lap and another one less on merit when vinales was highsided to the moon for mechanical reasons right ahead of him. yes, the title contenders have had some howlers... pecco's portimao and catalunya sprints were... well, y'know, and martin's jerez race and mugello sprint were also... y'know. but apart from that?

idk man... we can cry over photos of casey on his gp7 all we like, but at the end of the day these twits have come out with some class performances these last two years. and at a certain point you've just gotta hand it to them. they've become more experienced at how to manage a title fight, which is how you get a version of martin this year who is still fast but is less likely to phillip island it. some of those performances late last season were great! for every martin qatar and pecco india, you also get a martin thailand and a pecco indonesia. maybe they'll stop chucking it down the road so often, or maybe they'll keep chucking it but so will marc, because these days they have ridiculously many opportunities to do so! I also think it's worth pointing out that minus some questionable early season form from pecco, those two are basically always on the pace! they're always there or thereabouts! that's how marc used to kill his title rivals, not necessarily by winning a bunch of races but by making sure he was always picking up points - because he didn't have any truly slow weekends. these guys don't either at the minute! we are seeing them actually get better in front of our eyes, it's great

the other stuff... oof, I don't know what pecco's prime will end up being - remember, actually he's low key already edging out of title-winning age. he's now 27. this century, only two riders have won titles when they were older than 26 - valentino twice and jorge once. obviously, that's partly happenstance, and you don't suddenly get struck down by 'being washed' lightning when you turn 27... plus on the flip side, I also think the fact that pecco has only reached his prime relatively recently means he could have quite a few more years to go. who knows! who knows if marc being increasingly more breakable becomes a big factor! recovering from injuries gets tougher the older you get and the more knocks you've taken! on the other point, the ducati is a bike pecco knows very very well and has a lot of time riding... but broadly speaking I do trust marc with a year's worth of experience get as much out of that bike as he ever will. just the fuck you talent again. we don't know what that performance level looks like, but I don't think it'll be a question of familiarity any more at that stage

so where does that all leave us? do I really want to be making motogp predictions this far in advance? yeah, sure. if I had to put money on it, I'd still back marc, I think? but I really do hope we get a proper fight, and I really do think we might! I'm far from convinced in writing off pecco. basically *grabs the crystal ball, aka checks the races we've literally just watched* let's say pecco absolutely dogwalks the field at a few circuits. like maybe a mugello, an assen, a cute qatar, even a catalunya now he's faced down his demons (though maybe jorge on that aprilia goes bye bye at montmelo). then give marc his races where he laps the field twice in cota and sachsenring. and we're going to get a few classic duels, for the fans. if those duels happen at the mugello's and catalunya's of this world, pecco's might be in deep shit. if they happen at the misano's and aragon's and maybe even jerez's, we can get something going. they both have at least one silly early season crash (also kinda tradition for marc outside of his peak peak seasons lbr) and everyone gets to call pecco a bottler and crank out the good ol' crashquez. and then hopefully we can massage those numbers enough that pecco isn't crashing three times to marc's one and we actually get a proper title fight. and hopefully they don't get injured too badly. I've said this before, but I could easily see a title fight where pecco wins most of the big duels but his inconsistencies let him down. if his bad days are p3's, however, or if marc himself is a bit flaky at times, then we're suddenly having a very different conversation (also don't feel that comfortable in writing off aprilia/ktm and their respective star riders, especially in year two of the factory ducati partnership)

one thing about pecco (that you do also bring up anon)... if there's one trait in his competitive makeup that most reminds me of marc, it's his resilience. he's very good at bouncing back, he's very good at dealing with adversity, a lot of the times he's at his best when he's under ridiculous amounts of pressure... if anything, he's worse when he has reason to feel confident. it comes through both in what a class defensive rider he is and how good he is at dealing with title fight pressure. if there is ever a time where he mentally gets his act together at the very start of the season, surely it's going to be when he has the famous marc marquez in his garage. if that doesn't do it, literally nothing ever will. and listen, knowing marc will try to mess with you isn't quite the same as being able to stop him from messing with you. wanting to maintain harmony doesn't mean your chances of maintaining harmony are necessarily great. but... you know, pecco got his first ever win by defending against marc lap after lap, facing essentially the most stressful situation imaginable with the 93 on his tail. marc made him a better rider that day. marc might make him a better rider next year too... you never know

[nakanotamu]

ShuPro Awards 2023!

Normally I would post this on Twitter but I don't use twitter any more so now you guys get to deal with me instead! ShuPro dropped their awards for 2023 today so here they are in english. Right off the top, note that these are fan voted awards, so yes they're absolutely biased towards larger companies & popularity. To be clear I am not publishing this to be an unbiased news source I am posting this to be a bitch and tell you everything they got wrong bc I am right all of the time and have incredible taste. The numbers are how many votes they got. Anyway here we go.

Pro Wrestling Grand Prize

Hiromu Takahashi - 1748

Tetsuya Naito - 1516

Kenoh - 1269

Sanada - 915

Tam Nakano - 838

Will Ospreay - 301

Jake Lee - 266

Unagi Sayaka - 233

Yuma Aoyagi - 219

Natsupoi - 182

[Three women all being in the top 10 for the overall GP feels really big to me, especially Tam in the top 5. Also Kenoh in 3rd is very cool. I don't remember for sure but I think women have made top 10 before, but I don't think this many. Also all of them being Cosmic Angels? Oh my heart 🥲]

Best Match

Shinsuke Nakamura vs Great Muta - Noah 1.1 - 1258 [😒]

Tam Nakano vs Giulia - Stardom 4.23 - 1046 [should have won]

Tetsuya Naito vs Keiji Muto - Noah 2.21 - 725

Tetsuya Naito vs Will Ospreay - New Japan 8.12 - 566

Hiromu Takahashi vs Hayato "Jr." Fujita - Michinoku Pro 10.15 - 437

Tetsuya Naito vs Kazuchika Okada - New Japan 8.13 - 411

Kenny Omega vs Will Ospreay - New Japan 1.4 - 355

Katsuhiko Nakajima vs Kento Miyahara - Noah 7.15 - 336

Kentoh Miyahara vs Kenoh - Noah 1.1 - 235

Will Ospreay vs Shota Umino - New Japan 11.4 - 204

[Best Match is always kind of a side eye category that is sometimes kind of just the "which match was the G1 Finals" award and once again it proves Japanese fans are also capable of having bad taste but at least Tam & Giulia got 2nd place.]

Joshi Wrestling Grand Prize

Tam Nakano - 2092 [Holy shit that's a lot of votes. They're right but wow]

Giulia - 1192 [Like seriously stunned Tam swept it by that much. Just wow.]

Suzu Suzuki - 823

Unagi Sayaka - 737

Saori Anou - 563

Mizuki - 548

Iyo Sky - 502

Maika - 323

Rina Yamashita - 279

Sareee - 210

[Tam getting it by such a huge margin is crazy but I'm so happy. Also Tam, Una, & Saori all getting in the top 5 is incredible, Cosmic Angels are unstoppable. I'm really surprised Poi didn't get on the list though, especially after getting 10th in the overall category. Anyway clearly this is the most important category and god willing one day soon this and the overall category will both be all women.]

Best Unit

Cosmic Angels - 1973 [So true bestie. This is the 3rd year in a row Cosmic Angels have won this award which is insane, especially given the 2023 they actually had. They are fucking unstoppable. Girlfriend power is unbeatable.]

Los Ingobernables de Japon - 1361

Good Looking Guys - 1149 [I have a few friends who like GLG and mostly I just like seeing anything other than New Japan on these lists so I'm glad.]

House of Torture - 940 [lmao seriously?? did 940 people just not know who else to vote for or like are you guys really huge Sho fans or what]

United Empire - 418 [If you like UE I'd ask you consider growing better taste thanks]

Pheromones - 404 [Should have been way higher smh]

Just 5 Guys - 386

Free WiFi - 385 [SHOULD HAVE BEEN WAY HIGHER SMH]

Queen's Quest - 262 [SHOULD HAVE BEEN WAY HIGHER SMH]

Donna del Mondo - 209 [Hey good for them!]

Okay honestly 4 of these being women's units AND Free WiFi getting on this list owns.

Best Foreign Wrestler

Will Ospreay - 3487 [God really. Are you guys serious. Always with this shit]

Megan Bayne - 1045 [r u kidding me.]

Max The Impaler - 963

Zack Saber Jr. - 627

Chris Brookes - 599 [Should be way higher]

Hijo de Dr. Wagner Jr. - 548

Mariah May - 420(nice) [SHOULD HAVE BEEN FIRST PLACE]

El Phantasmo - 222

Luis Mante - 106

Jack Morris - 105

Best Rookie

Hanako - 1842 [WOW!! It's not ToSpo's rookie of the year award but still very big for her.]

Oleg Boltin - 1673

Wakana Uehara - 1523

Kizuna Tanaka - 944

Zones - 417

Dark Unagi - 316 [LMAOOOOO]

Ryoya Tanaka - 233

Chi Chi - 218

Yu Owada - 198

Mifu Ashida - 181

[7 women on this list & the win going to Hanako is AWESOME but also LMFAO DARK UNAGI GOT 6TH PLACE ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME Una's power is limitless. Kayfabe is alive and well.]

Favourite Pro Wrestler [I always love they do favourite separate from best]

Tam Nakano - 1542 [HELL YEAH WRESTLING FANS GET ONE RIGHT]

Tetsuya Naito - 1384

Natsupoi - 892 [Poi in 3rd overall as well is HUGE]

Saori Anou - 887 [COSMIC ANGELS SWEEP]

Kenoh - 683

Hiromu Takahashi - 597

Hiroshi Tanahashi - 593 [I remember a lot of times this feeling like the Hiroshi Tanahashi award so Tana down in 7th is surprising]

Wakana Uehara - 577 [Honestly Wakana seems crazy popular and they're pairing her with Yuki Arai now right? God that's like a print money combo]

Kazuchika Okada - 533

Mina Shirakawa - 514

Unagi Sayaka - 461

Starlight Kid - 375 [Wow crazy she got 12th place with how out of shape and lazy she is 🙄 THIS IS SARCASM if you don't know what I'm referring to I envy you. Hope 2024 is the year a certain someone finally gets fired Stardom would be better with no subtitles]

Yuki Arai - 364

Mayu Iwatani - 361

El Desperado - 359

Will Ospreay - 343

Giulia - 341

Kento Miyahara - 316

Maika - 290

Sareee - 283

Minoru Suzuki - 273

Taichi - 248

Sanada - 236

Saya Kamitani - 231

AZM - 198

Katsuhiko Nakajima - 183

Jake Lee - 179

Utami Hayashishita - 172 [Not enough lesbians voting obviously]

Jun Kasai - 170

Yota Tsuji - 164

Naomichi Marufuji - 163

Yuma Aoyagi - 154

Rei Saitou - 148

Hayato "Jr." Fujita - 147

Suzu Suzuki - 145

Arisu Endo - 141

Yuki Kamifuku - 137

Mizuki - 131

Hazuki - 130

EVIL - 128

Saki Kashima - 126 [SAKI SWEEP. TOP 10 NEXT YEAR]

Iyo Sky - 125

Shingo Takagi - 122

Great O-Khan - 121

Kairi Sane - 120

Miyu Yamashita - 119

Shinsuke Nakamura - 118

Kaito Kiyomiya - 115

Syuri - 113

Go Shiozaki - 111

Overall these awards are just popularity contests but I still liked a lot of what I saw. The Favourite Wrestler top 50 actually being half women is great and soon enough it'll be all women and we can finally admit we just don't need men's wrestling any more. I can't believe how insanely popular Cosmic Angels are, especially with the let's say rocky 2023 they had, but I guess some things are just so undeniably great people can't miss it.

[apolloendymion]

listen to me. i am talking directly in your ear now.

save your kitchen scraps. I'm talking carrot tops, peels, and greens. the tops & skins of onion and garlic. celery leaves. squash rinds. citrus peels. apple cores. tomatoes and lettuce that are just a little too wilted/mushy to be palatable. eggshells. cheese rinds. chicken skin. potato skins if you washed the dirt off. the water/oil from canned foods. BONES!! skins, peels, stems, leaves, anything that isn't poisonous but you wouldn't normally eat. we're going to make some fucking Broth.

(note: cruciferous veggies like brussels sprouts are ok in small quantities, but keep in mind that they're bitter and may bitter-ize your broth in larger amounts.)

put those scraps in a bag in the freezer. I'd recommend storing the liquids in a separate bag from the solids. add scraps whenever you've got em, until you've accrued about half a gallon ziplock of solids. now, you're Ready.

put a little oil at the bottom of a soup pot. just enough to sauté your solids. add some minced garlic and herbs/spices, if you have them (dried is fine, but i don't recommend powdered spices unless they're all you've got.) i like warming spices like star anise and cardamom pods; they make it taste like pho, sooo cozy. and of course, bay leaves!! if you have them, put at least 3 in there. minimum. trust me.

(if you don't have/want animal parts, add a little more oil than necessary for sauteing. you're gonna want the extra, believe me. I'd also sauté for longer, and pick an oil with a little flavor if you can, like olive. canola/vegetable is perfectly fine though.)

add the solids and sauté. i usually just thaw them in the oil, but if you're better at planning than me, you can put them in the fridge the night before. ideally you should sauté until the veggies start to brown. I'm not always that patient. it's fine. just make sure everything fully thaws and separates from one another. get a thin coat of oil over everything.

next, add the liquid ingredients and fill the rest of the pot with water (taking care to leave some space in case it boils over.) bring the pot to a boil, then turn it as low as your stove allows and leave it to simmer for as long as possible. this is KEY. let that shit MARINATE. let it STEW, no pun intended. i usually try to start this project in the morning, so i can leave it for the rest of the day. i have left it on overnight before but i can't recommend that in good conscience. do not burn your house down for broth. 2 hours would probably be my absolute minimum. stay close by, and stir it every so often so it doesn't boil over. chill on the couch. watch tv. enjoy the smell that permeates your house and makes it feel like a home. it's cozy time.

add salt, tasting as you go. you don't want to overdo it. some folks say to add the salt at the sauteing stage, but i feel this gives me too little control over the final product. i need control. I've got anxiety. but you do you. live your life. I'm not your boss.

once it tastes how you want it, strain out the solids. if I'm going to make soup right away, then I'll strain the liquid directly into another pot, throw in the soup ingredients, and simmer till everything's soft. otherwise, put it in a container you can freeze for later.

rejoice. broth be upon ye.

sip it when you're sick, make it into soup, use it in a casserole, cook rice with it. give a jar to your neighbors. you are the broth god. you are unstoppable. you will never waste a vegetable piece ever again.

go forth and Experience The Broth.

[stop-breaking-my-heart-dragonage]

So you mentioned how you leave Hawke in the fade, do you ever bring Varric with on that quest? (Maybe I'm just a sucker for angst ((which I totally am cuz for my canon warden I have her date a soft Alistair who is pissed and dumbs her when she makes him king and then she makes the ultimate sacrifice and Alistair is devastated he never got to talk it out with her)) so I always take Varric and Cassandra with cuz I think it's nuts that the game doesn't have him react in the fade to leaving Hawke. So I picture a dramatic speech like fuck this Hawke let someone else be the hero for once, you deserve to live. And Cassandra is there seeing someone she put on a pedestal and saw as an unstoppable hero met their end.)

I've brought a few different combos into the fade but my favorite combo is definitely Varric/Cassandra/Solas; Varric because of Hawke, Cassandra because of Divine Justinia, and Solas for the fade itself.

I love and hate the fade quest for a number of reasons, but the part of me that revels in angst just adores it, it's such a heartbreaking part of Inquisition's story. I keep Alistair a Grey Warden, so it becomes a final choice of either making him stay behind, or my Hawke, Ed... it's a brutal choice that ends with Ed staying behind.

The meta reason for making this choice is I love Alistair too much. I want him and my warden to remain together until the end so I'd leave nearly anyone in the fade just to save him. And I don't want to make him king just to avoid the hard choice; he never wanted it, and Rose wasn't ever going to force it onto him.

But from a story-telling standpoint, Ed staying behind hurts so much because that's literally his fear; if he had his own fear engraved tombstone in the fade, it'd say something like "Abandonment" or "Being Left Behind." It's one of the reasons he stays by Anders' side after the events of DA2 despite ending their romantic relationship, he can't abandon the man he's loved for years even when everyone tells him he should....until, of course, we get to the fade and he feels he no longer has a choice.

Ed never wanted to be some hero or champion, but it's so engrained in his identity now that he constantly feels the burden of sacrificing pieces of himself for others. He feels the guilt of every loss he's suffered, whether it was actually his fault or not. In his mind, no matter how much it hurts, or who it hurts, it's the "right" choice to leave him behind... he's read enough of Varric's tragedies to know how this goes.

I also headcanon that when Carver's made a warden, he goes back to Fereldan to serve under the Hero of Fereldan and becomes best friends with Alistair. So I imagine that's another reason Ed insists he be the one to cover them. He went to great lengths to keep his brother out of this mess [even though Carver protested every step of the way] and doesn't want Carver to lose his best friend, even though he would also be devastated to lose his brother, but y'know.... Ed's just like, "Tell Carver I'm sorry, and that I always thought the world of him."

Even as Alistair, who never got to know his brother and dreamed about meeting his sister only for her to reject him, argued back... it's no use. Ed made up his mind to face his greatest fear to save them, and Ash begrudgingly agrees with him.

As for Varric, it hurts to watch him ask happened to Hawke... and then to listen to him recount a story about the kind of person Hawke was... and to give him a comforting hug... it all hurts.

But... that being said, I have thought about possibly doing a run where I do leave Alistair behind in a worldstate where Rose made the ultimate sacrifice. Alistair lost her and became disillusioned with the Grey Wardens, only remaining because what else is there for him? When it comes to someone staying in the fade, he insists it be him. He faces the nightmare as Hawke and the Inquisitor escape, and mutters under his breath, "Wait for me a little longer, my love," before attacking.

...because why not break my own heart some more, y'know?

Whether I'll be brave enough to attempt that is yet to be seen.

[thegeminisage]

ok. it's star trek update time. only one day behind thankfully! wednesday i pussied out of kiraodo hell so we did voy's "threshold" and "meld" and last night we finally DID do ds9's "crossfire" and then "return to grace."

threshold (voy):

absolutely nothing that i'd heard about this episode could have prepared me for the reality of it.

firstly, it must be said, the episode IS awful. there's absolutely no point to any of it, except, vaguely, tom paris's self-esteem issues, the thing he has to tackle after conquering his daddy issues. all told though he wasn't unbearable this episode, except for maybe when he insisted on taking the 2% risk to his fucking life

that said, did i give it a "must see" on the spreadsheet? yes, absolutely, even though it comes right before meld, which i gave a "must see" in a totally different way

like, sorry, if you can't tell what kind of a time you are getting into with one vs the other i can't help you

look. the fact of the matter is firstly i didn't expect all the body horror. also i didn't expect the salamander edging ie i thought they'd be salamanders the entire time and they only were for a few minutes. and finally: their wet, heaving, salamander bodies in the fog...was enough for me.

also, PEPPERONI!

finally, what the hell even was that conversation he and janeway had at the end. why aren't they more worried about their salamander babies. none of it makes any SENSE. it's glorious

meld (voy):

JESUS FUCKING CHRIST

easily. EASILY. the best voyager episode we've seen so far. prior to now it was the one with the romulan but this one blows that one out of the fucking water

first of all, did you know tuvok has 4 babies and breed orchids because it's very important and he is so important he is my special little guy. i think if i was murdered i would definitely want him solving my case. he's a very thorough detective

the like..he just COULDN'T understand violence without reason. and instead of being like "wow that guy's got horns well not gonna let it ruin my day" he turns around and MIND MELDS WITH HIM? WITH THE SERIAL KILLER? "my vulcan nature will allow me to control it" YOU ARE INSAAANE

everybody talks about spock being crazy but it's gotta be just a vulcan thing. tuvok was willing to do the shady business deal, he is ALWAYS the first to put his hand on his phaser (so jumpy...), he's always clenching his jaw (thanks cathy i'm never going to be able to unsee it), like he is so far away from home and his babies and potential grandbabies and also his orchids, except for that one spock orchid he keeps in his quarters. he is under an immense amount of pressure. he got tortured like two or three episodes ago and (worse) someone HEARD HIM SCREAM and he just has to deal with that. my best friend tuvok. where was i even going with this

i love that he's afraid of himself. like he said about the torture: sometimes you simply have no choice but to endure the experience. he tried everything suder did: the holodeck, the therapy. it didn't work. (him fake killing holo-neelix was so scary btw because it was premeditated)

and i love that he has a REASON to be afraid of himself. this is the first instance since "amok time" and "all our yesterdays" we got a glimpse of what vulcans were like before they decided to go full surak, and like NO WONDER. BECAUSE THEY WERE SCARY. between telepathy, sheer brute strength, and incredible intellect, tuvok was nearly unstoppable. he fought his demons with all the fervor of spock himself. and speaking of spock...

the doctor said (and im copypasting here) "There's a definite neurochemical imbalance in the mesiofrontal cortex. That's where the Vulcan psycho-suppression systems are located." is this to imply there is a physiological component to the emotional control vulcans have, and if yes, spock may not have access to the full range of those abilities given his half-human heritage...? ie he's potentially stuck with the strength and lasting power of vulcan emotions and attempting to stay on top of them with fragile human impulse control

i don't know if i like it better that way, or if i like it better that he DOES have that ability and all the other vulcans still judge him anyway. after all, he certainly doesn't have half a pon farr or half the strength of a vulcan, biology doesn't work that way. but it is. sorry. fascinating to think about

and finally, who would i be if i didn't mention penetration? what a fucking line that was. i want to paste it over some spones screenshots. good fucking lord

sorry to make this voyager episode about tos. janeway and tuvok remind me SO much of kirk and spock i can't help but be into it a little even though i know their platonic friendship is really important and everything. i wouldn't have been mad if tuvok was single, you know? especially since, sigh, chakotay ends up with seven. he was so afraid of hurting her physically and then he hurt her emotionally and he was SO contrite...kill me

crossfire (ds9):

i don't want to talk about it.

actually wait yes i do. this episode wasn't fair to sisko. he NEVER yells at his people for no reason especially when it's clear they are normally competent and they're having trouble bc of emotional reasons. he sits down and talks to them about it! this was character assassination

okay and fine while i am talking about it i will also say i was pleasantly surprise by quark and the quark/odo. i'm gonna be a kira/odo girlie forever but i have been DYING for quark to do something interesting or with some emotional weight and he MET the challenge. this was the last person i expected to figure odo out, but in the end i don't think there could have been a better choice. odo said he didn't want sympathy and he meant it, and anyone besides quark would have attempted to give it to him (except maybe worf, lol)

oh, speaking of worf, their shared autism conversation...they need routines...personal space...love that for them

sorry, back to quark, it was REALLY funny when he gestured to his ears and went "hello?" it's exactly how i talk in 2024 so it got a huge laugh out of me

i don't dislike shakaar, and i did like a lot of cute kira/odo moments in this ep, but i think the elevator thing was stupid. i think it was also kind of rude for kira to be 20 minutes late to their meeting on both a personal and professional level and then be like :( when odo decided not to do them anymore. there was a lot of classic "friendzone" tropes in this episode, which weren't as tired and aged then as they are now, but jesus

anyway, i can comfort myself by knowing they go canon in the end. ik a lot of people hate them as a couple and i have a vague understanding that some of the bumps along the road continue to have these vibes, but i am prepared to ignore all that as long as they start kissing eventually

final note i read this on memory alpha:

this, but he saves kira instead and shakaar almost dies, and THAT'S when he has his breakdown about his love life interfering with his job/who he is and decides to attempt to get some distance. that would have been a much cleaner episode and also more gentle. idk why the think what they have is gentle. it was pretty brutal in places

return to grace (ds9):

man, every time they bring dukat in he becomes more complex and more layered and interesting. and we NEVER miss a beat with this guy. i was just saying aloud "this is all extremely fun and funny but i wish we remembered more often he ran a labor camp and did war crimes" and literally less than three minutes later they were discussing the fact that he did war crimes

like, you spend this whole episode thinking he's laying the moves on kira bc of his bajoran fetish/he's single now (which: lmao) and kira straight-up says "what he wants from me is forgiveness" when we as viewers got tricked into thinking what he wanted from her was the strap. (or, you know, both. one must be intrinsically linked to the other, naturally.)

and it si funny. again, they have that q and picard energy. the more he wants her the less she wants him and the less she wants him the more he wants her. he is a disgusting little creature and will Never be worthy of the strap!!!

love also that kira was like yeah you know what if you wanna run off half cocked fine i will raise your baby. you cant turn her into a little terrorist i cannot let you radicalize the child. that's twice she's wound up saving his daughter now

though i DEEPLY loved these two episodes with kira and dukat, i also miss when dukat had some weird gay thing going on with sisko. what, bc sisko's got a gf now he's just supposed to bow out gracefully? not my dukat

anyway, it was absolutely amazing to see kira in her element here, but i think it was such important character development that she goes "no, this isn't secretly what i live for, this TRAUMATIZED me, and i will live with the effects for the rest of my entire life." a lot of people on star trek post-war episodes have picked fights just so they could keep on fighting, because they quite literally don't know what to do with themselves otherwise. they NEED the war, they NEED the enemy. kira doesn't, and you get the sense she's only just now realizing that about herself. it's such a subtle but important bit of growth <3

NEXT TIME: ds9's "sons of mogh" and potentially voy's "dreadnaught" depending on time

[euclydya]

@white-boy-bracket hai. This is the thing we spent all fuckin day writing. Not posting to A03 bc A03 scares us [lighthearted]

Anyways chapters 1 & 2 under the cut of Harry's POV from whatever the fuck is going on, vaguely set after he got Revived™:

YOU – … What the fuck.

ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN – Welcome back to self awareness, fucko! How'd you sleep? Like shit, I bet?

YOU – Yeah, whatever just happened didn't feel good. Am I dead finally?

ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN – I'm afraid not, Harry boy. Though you *did* die, recently. Happened rather quickly, too. But that's neither here nor there.

ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN – What's important is that The Infernal Engine is once again up and running. And once it's up and running, *oh boy*, is it unstoppable! You are nigh impossible to defeat, Harry, and you are going to make it *everybody else's problem.*

YOU – What if I… Wanted it all to stop though? What if I'm tired?

ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN – Too bad! You had your chance when you actually died the first time, but some higher power still wants you around. Probably for the best. I bet whatever's going to happen next will be really...

Really...

… Funny.

YOU – … Okay. Sure. Can I go back to sleep, though? I'd like to pretend none of this is happening right now.

ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN – Nope! You're gonna open your eyes and participate in this death match again whether you'd like to or not!

YOU – Wait, *death match*??

3…

YOU – Hey.

2…

YOU – *Hey.*

1…

YOU – Hey!! I don't want to do this!! Please let me sleep!! What the fuck!!!

Wake up.

////

VOLITION – Oh, no. Oh this fucking *sucks*, guys.

PERCEPTION [Trivial: Failure] – The hell do you mean. Is he not asleep?

HALF LIGHT – Nah. We're dead. This is hell. This is hell we're in. Awesome! Love that for us.

VOLITION – Can you like actually shut your mouth for 5 seconds for once in your goddamn life. Please. I am *begging*,

ELECTROCHEMISTRY – Heyy. Hey guys. Uh. He's like, waking up. Like, right now. Like. Right this second? What uh. Should we do. Help.

Open your eyes.

PERCEPTION [SIGHT] – Ow. Fuck.

-1 health.

Everything is bright and your head hurts and it sucks here. Wherever *here* is, anyway.

Close your eyes and go back to sleep. It's fine. This is all a dream, probably.

Get up and look around the area.

Die for realsies.

VOLITION [Challenging: Success] – What? Fuck you you're not dying. Bitch. You're awake now, go… I don't know. Look around and see what's what here.

YOU – "What if I don't wanna :("

VOLITION – That isn't my problem shut up. Go. Go, go, go. Right now. Right. Fucking now.

YOU – "🥺"

VOLITION – Don't you "🥺" me, oh my God!!

Close your eyes and go back to sleep. It's fine. This is all a dream, probably.

Get up and look around the area.

Die for realsies.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY – Hey actually now that he's up and awake, we can… Go find *substances*. Anddd… Similar Things. Perhaps. Maybe. Just an idea. So he doesn't, uh… Actually for realsies die. :)

VOLITION – ... Y'know what. Sure. Fuck it all.

NEW TASK: FIND DRUGS

ELECTROCHEMISTRY – Okay cool so while we're getting that sorted, uh, have y'all three seen Anyone Else up here. Like, *any* of the other Skills. Hello.

HALF LIGHT – What if, and hear me out… What if they are Dead, For Realsies, No Joke. Huh. What then.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY – What if maybe you chilled the fuck out, bud? What then? Hmm?

HALF LIGHT – Canadian-ass.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY – What on God is a Canadian.

ENCYCLOPEDIA [Easy: Failure] – Some person from Canada. Probably.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY – OHH SHIT!! COOLCOOLCOOL THE OTHERS ARE ALIVE PROBABLY IT'S NOT JUST US FOUR HERE! LET'S FUCKIN' GO!

ELECTROCHEMISTRY – … Wait. We still have to… Oh God we still have to *Do Shit*. Hey. Guys, where are we, actually?

PERCEPTION [Trivial: success] – Cabin.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY – Ok besides that though.

PERCEPTION [Trivial: failure] – I dunno. I don't control the legs.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY – You are so useless actually. Love that for you, to be honest.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY – Anyways can somebody please make him walk, I dunno what I'm doin' here. God bless. <3

VOLITION – Yeah, okay. Lemme… Try that. Uh…

Perish immediately.

Cry and shit yourself and scream.

Walk out of the cabin.

VOLITION [Challenging: Success] - I'm not letting you do that.

Perish immediately.

Cry and shit yourself and scream.

Walk out of the cabin.

VOLITION – Okay cool.

PERCEPTION – Oh!! I see now! We are in An Arena. Which probably means that we're—

HALF LIGHT – —Going to die!

PERCEPTION – We are going to die! 😃👍

VOLITION – How about we don't die though.

NEW TASK: Try not to die (again?)

VOLITION – Okay so, he's in… An arena. And probably in a death match of some sort. Cool. Noted. And we'll probably die but not *yet*, dammit, so let's at least try to stay alive for a bit longer. Do we have his gun still, or…?

Check pockets for your gun.

Your pockets are empty. No weapons to be found.

VOLITION – Fuuuuuucking hell. Again? Seriously?

PERCEPTION [Trivial: success] – There's knives in that body over there though! :)

VOLITION – Wonderful! And totally not at all a coincidence! A knife will have to do for now.

+1 weapon [knife] added to inventory.

VOLITION – Okay I think he's ready to not get killed. Yeehaw.

NEW TASK: Win the fuckin white boy bracket 👌

[league-of-sam]

As Grim as the Reaper | Simon 'GHOST' Riley PREQUEL

Ghost x Reader, Graves x Reader

CHAPTER SEVEN

Phillip Graves x AFAB!Reader!OC 18+ MINORS DNI! t.w // angst, mental health, language, violence, death, sexual themes/SMUT, military inaccuracies, language inaccuracies (google translate).

As Grim as the Reaper: Masterlist

When you finally returned back to base, the entire place was in chaos. 

Military officials were running frantically everywhere, papers flying and phones ringing off the hook; something had happened.

When the two of you dropped out of your vehicle, a breathless Laswell approached you.

"(Y/N), with me, now. Alex, go see the General. She'll fill you in."

You looked to Alex, who shrugged before splitting off, and you followed Laswell closely to the tent. Upon entering, several images and stills of videos were scattered across the screen, and a laptop was set up in front of the seat.

Scanning the images, you'd recognise that place anywhere.

Piccadilly Circus.

Covered in police tape, cordoned off, body bags everywhere. 

You turned to Laswell, eyes wide, "That's London, Kate. What the hell happened?"

"Terrorist attack."

"In the middle of London? How does that even happen now?" You spoke, voice raising unsteadily.

"We located some of the stolen gas." She sighed. "Lost several men and there were, unfortunately, a number of civilian casualties too. We had Sabre and Bravo on it, but..."

"Sorry, what? Bravo? You trying to tell me my fucking brother was on the frontline to this?!"

You looked back at the images, heart pounding. The destruction from the pictures was the tip of the iceberg, you knew that much. All of those bodies, all of those soldiers, lost. And one of them could be him. 

"Kate, I swear to god do not pussy-foot around me. If anything has happened to Captain Price-"

"Take a breath, little bug. Anyone would think ya worried about me."

The voice crackled from the laptop, and you turned quick enough to break your own neck, stumbling to sit down in front of the screen.

There, you saw John, not a single scratch in sight, but he was still in his gear, looking as though he was hunkered down in a safehouse, several people blurring past him in the background.

"John! Thank god you're okay."

"O'course I am. What the hell happened to ya?" He said, nodding to the bandage wrapped around your arm.

"Ambush in Verdansk. M'good." You shrugged it off, "What the fuck is- Kyle?"

Just behind him, you caught a glimpse of a man you'd not seen for a few years, but a man you'd come to know incredibly well. At the sound of his name, he looked up, and moved to lean over your brother's shoulder.

"(Y/N)? That you?" He spoke.

"Yeah, it's me. Bloody hell Garrick, how've you got roped into this?"

"Sabre sent us in half-arsed, still trying to pretend we're not at war."

"Fucking lie of the century, that." You laughed. "I'm glad you're okay. Y'look good."

"Lookin' good too, (Y/N)-"

"Excuse me." Price cut him off, "Wanna explain how ya know my sister, sergeant?"

Gaz's eyes went wide, his mouth stuttering nonsense words under the interrogating gaze of your older brother. 

You rolled your eyes, but explained nonetheless. You told John of how after he was sent out on mission halfway through your basic training, Kyle Garrick had been one of the new recruits, fresh from the Police. 

He'd become your partner in crime on barracks, the two of you being an unstoppable force - you'd just not been able to keep in contact too much in recent years.

Price nodded, the story checking out enough for him. Though he may not have shown it, he felt glad - if you trusted Kyle, then so did he.

"Sorry to interrupt, John, but say your goodbyes." Laswell said, coming to set a hand on your arm, "We gotta go, honey."

With a nod, the three of you bid your goodbyes, and with a final debrief of what happened in London, once again you were following your handler across base, until you stopped in front of a fresh vehicle.

"What's the plan, Kate?" You said.

Alex reappeared then, striding over to you with a face that told you that whatever was about to go down was not good.

"Al-Qatala has claimed responsibility for the attack on orders of the Wolf. The two of you are going to Urzikstan...today."

It was hot, and it was dry.

And the black of your stealth gear only sucked the heat in more.

On your arrival in Urzikstan, you'd tied your hair back in an effort to keep yourself cool under the mask; something else that hadn't come off.

The last thing you needed now was to be in a country bleeding war and someone able to identify you. 

Alex stayed close as you were quickly ushered into vehicles, and transported to the makeshift base of Urzikstan's liberation forces, lead by a Commander Farah Karim. Forced into a dull room, you were pushed into a chair, four other men circling you both.

"What is your message from Captain Price?" A woman spoke.

Her.

You opted to stay silent, allowing Alex to do the talking.

"Commander Karim...call me Alex." He said, leaning forward.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes a little, a small smirk playing on your lips. You'd been here five minutes and he was already trying to be fucking smooth.

"I'm listening, Alex."

"This is classified."

Farah dismissed her soldiers in Arabic, leaving just the three of you in the room. You crossed your arms over your chest, leaning back in the chair, studying.

"Forty-eight hours ago, terrorists stole a shipment of Russian gas."

"Only Al-Qatala would do this."

"The Russians make no distinction between AQ and your people." Alex said, standing to move around the room.

"And I make no distinction between AQ and the Russian army. They are both terrorists. We would never use these poisons."

Before the conversation got any further, a man burst into the room. You shot up, unsheathing your knife, until Farah's hand raised to calm you.

"This is my brother and lieutenant, Hadir. This is Alex, and-?" She looked to you.

"Reaper."

"You are CIA?" Hadir asked, circling Alex.

"They work with Captain Price."

"Then you kill Russians, yes?" The smirk on Hadir's face made you snort, chuckling under your mask.

"I have friends who can help us...but your sister decides what's next."

"Of course, my sister is in command."

"Then let's stop fucking around and get to it." You said, stepping to the table to join them.

Farah nodded at you, a somewhat appreciative and impressed look in her eye, before she lent down, and began briefing the two of you on the situations here.

Barkov's men controlled the city, which meant you'd have to infiltrate to regain the freedom. It was a yes or no situation. If you wanted Farah's help, you had to stay. But if you stayed, you would have to fight.

So, fight it is.

Quickly, you found yourself being led through tunnels underground, following the two soldiers to the other end. Hadir turned to you, handing you and Alex a pack of C4 with remote detonators, before he disappeared down another route.

You followed Farah, pulled up a ladder and through a hatch, met by a man named Tariq. 

"Here, put these on." Farah said, handing both you and Alex a long piece of cloth. "Your mask helps, but it is not enough for you to blend in here."

You nodded, putting on the garment, watching with a smirk on your face as Farah adjusted Alex's.

"How do I look?" He asked her.

"It'll do."

With Tariq's direction, you concealed your weapons and you followed Farah out into the street. It was crawling with Russian forces, executing, beating, directing citizens. It was a complete mess here.

You walked until you reached a checkpoint, at which you and Farah were pushed in one direction, Alex in another.

"Alex! No-" You tried to speak, but Farah grabbed your hand, pulling you with her.

"This is where we split up. You'll need to comply to blend in...we'll find you on the other side." Farah spoke to Alex.

"I'll see you, angel."

You frowned, but complied with Farah's orders, knowing this was the only way for the three of you to stay safe and undetected. Following her around the trucks and to the back of the building, the two of you stooped down, eyeing two soldiers blocking your path.

"How good are you with those knives?" She asked, turning to you.

"Pretty damn good, Commander. Alex is the best of the best, and he trained me, so."

"You two are close, yes?"

You smiled, "Yeah, he's my best friend. We got each other's six."

"You are...together? A couple?"

If your mouth wasn't so dry from the desert air, you were sure you may have choked on your own saliva at her question.

"Oh, god, no! We're like siblings."

Farah said nothing at your declaration, merely humming before instructing her orders, and the two of you took out the soldiers just in time to see Alex emerge through the door.

It was light work between the three of you, taking out any soldier you came across as you snuck through back alleys and streets to get to Farah's next contact. But when you arrived, Russian men were swarmed over the house.

Silently, you took them out with your knives, Farah not far behind you and Alex shooting from overhead. You moved through the building, clearing it of any mercs, before re-emerging outside, where yet another load of civilians were being lined up.

Tied to a beam being lifted by a crane, you watched in horror as three men were hung, the civilians around being held in place, forced to watch. 

"This is a fucking war crime." You growled.

"Punishment, for the stolen gas." Farah replied. "Barkov blames us for stealing it."

Nothing more could be said, as two helicopters whirred overhead, dropping off more of Barkov's men. With Farah's direction, you and Alex made your way to them, killing any soldier in your way and planting the C4 onto the helos. 

This was the distraction you needed to execute the plan, and with the press of the button, you blew the explosives.

Alarms blared, people screaming and running. Soldiers marching into the square. The three of you tried to make a run for it, but a group was waiting.

Farah threw her bag of explosives, detonating it as it landed in front of the group and you made a run for it.

It wasn't enough.

"We're getting boxed in!" You yelled as you dove behind a truck, taking fire from your left side.

"Go right go right!" Farah yelled back.

Alex lunged, grabbing your hand and pulling you with him, "Holy shit!"

You jumped through windows, skidding through backyards and vaulting over walls until you managed to circle back, and into the tunnel where you met back up with Hadir on the outskirts of the airbase.

They'd done well, and the way Farah's troops had fortified their small army impressed you - even more so as you heard the small whirr of remote control planes.

"What's this?" You asked, picking one up to examine it.

"RC planes, loaded with C4." Hadir replied.

"Fuckin' nice." You smiled.

The second the planes made impact, you, Alex, and Farah's forces ran down, breaching into the airbase.

"Echo 6-2 to Watcher, local forces are moving in on Barkov's airbase. Requesting close-air support." You spoke into your radio.

"Copy, 6-2. I'm tasking an unmarked gunship to your position, stand by."

Seconds after, the cannon hit, and you pushed forward with the group, gunning down any Russian in your way, with Alex close behind you.

The entire base was in chaos, the only thing to be heard was the sheer amount of gunfire and boom of explosions. 

"So, you can shoot a gun then?" Alex quipped as he slammed down beside you, reloading his weapon.

"Better than you can by the looks of it!" 

And so, somehow, you managed to turn this into a competition, one that you were winning by a landslide by the time you made your way to the tarmac.

"3-1 to Watcher, we're moving to the tarmac. Where's air support?" Alex radioed.

"CAS is inbound. Unmarked, ETA five minutes. This is risky, Alex."

"We need to help them, Kate." You replied.

By the time air support arrived, Farah's forces had lost a significant amount of men, and the rest of you were almost out of ammo, and getting boxed into the hangar.

And finally it was over. 

The airbase was secure, and pride swelled in your heart knowing you'd helped Farah's people take a little of their country back.

[maybeelse]

"Pathetic mortals! Hear my demands," Corvina intones, feathers raised is a posture of challenge, "and despair, for the will of the night is unstoppable! Your compatriot has made a mockery of our alliance! You must," her voice shifts, a faint squawk betraying a feather-covered blush, "make her let go of me."

Maria, Halberd of Noon, peers up at Corvina. The villainess, once barely taller than her, has grown beyond all reason in the weeks since the Tremorlord ate the sun and plunged the world into an eternal and moonless night. "Is Anne being a problem?"

"Yes! I mean, uh," she tries to compose herself, "yes. Remove her, lest a worse fate befalls her! I will drop her in the ocean to freeze, see if I don't."

"Why don't you ask her yourself?"

"S-she just talks about wanting me to eat her! It's creepy! You deal with it!"

"… sure," Maria sighs. "Where is she, anyway?"

Corvina gestures vaguely towards her frankly excessive body. "Somewhere? I don't know. You find her."

Maria stares at Corvina, entirely unimpressed, and the former harpy hides her head under one of her wings. Another dozen wings flutter spasmodically along her body; her proprioception still hasn't caught up to the glut of power engorging her body. Perhaps it could be comical if it wasn't a reminder of how badly screwed they all are.

"Anne! Get out here!"

"don't wanna," the distant reply comes.

"Got you," Maria murmurs.

It's not that easy, of course. Getting to her requires navigating more of their former and future foe's body than Maria every wanted to be aware of, and Corvina keeps on reflexively hitting her with her wings (tolerable) or trying to disembowel her with whichever foot is nearest (irritating). The worst part is Maria's allergies. Harpies generate nearly as much dander as pigeons, and Corvina has not been taking proper care of herself.

Her eyes are watering and her nose is running when she finally finds Anne, Sword of the Morning, curled up under one of Corvina's wings. Several of Corvina's clawed feet hold her aloft, cradling her as delicately as a fresh-plucked flower.

"Hey, sis," Anne murmurs, shifting slightly. "Sup?"

"… wait, I thought Corvina didn't want you here?"

"Yeah. She hates me, you know that."

"But—"

"But," Anne smiles, "her body doesn't. S' a good cuddler."

"… that doesn't make any sense, Anne."

"Does. Wanna join?"

"No, Anne. I want you to stop pissing her off. We really can't afford it."

"Mmm," Anne yawns, "Can't afford to stop either, though …"

"Explain?"

"Why should I? You already know all of it, and I'm tired."

The three Guardians of Day—two, now, since the Shield of Dusk defected to the Tremorlord's forces—have never liked talking about the exact details of their powers. They wax strongest during the hours they are bound to (as does Corvina, their villainous reflection), and wane as time's passage draws them away, but …

The fact that they still have some power during eternal night raises questions with indelicate answers. Questions like, well, "where does it come from?" And "how do we get more?"

Dusk's defection came after she asserted one specific answer, and rejected it entirely.

"… you can find someone else to cuddle, Anne."

"Don't wanna. Besides," she moves to flop onto the ground and Corvina's claws close around her—wrapping tight around her waist, her neck, and her thighs, pinning her in place like the delicious morsel that she is. "Don't think 'vina will let me."

"Yeah, okay," Maria grouses, "fuck this. Just stop asking her to eat you."

"S'not my fault that she's such a prude."

The villain decides to do the classic "team up to defeat a common foe" trope but it's been taking a lot longer than they had expected,the heroes are getting emotionally attached and it's starting to get weird.

[unhingedwomandiaries]

Right, let's talk about the absolute mindfuck that is my vegan mate's life choices, because I'm starting to wonder if I've accidentally stumbled into some parallel universe where logic got hit by a bus and died.

She's got four American XL bullies – you know, those steroid-pumped pit bull types that look like they bench press smaller dogs for breakfast. And the names? Fucking hell. Earth Destroyer (bit dramatic), Tofu (of course), Topanga (because nothing says 'I love animals' like naming your dog after a character from a show about terrorizing cows in California), and Broccoli (because apparently we're just picking random objects from the kitchen now). It's the kind of naming convention that screams "I based my entire personality on my dietary restrictions and now I'm too committed to back out."

So these muscle-bound beasts got banned by the government last year because apparently someone finally noticed they look like they could eat a postman whole and shit out his letters pre-sorted. But she's had this pack of protein-powered nightmares for 12 years already. They're proper geriatric now, more likely to gum you to death than maul you. One of them's actually disabled after losing a fight with a fox, which really puts a dent in their "unstoppable killing machine" reputation. Bet that fox is dining out on that story – "Yeah mate, I proper fucked up one of them banned dogs. No big deal."

Here's where it gets properly mental though. This woman spots in the paper that there's a desperate need for adoptive parents and foster families in our area. Being the kind of vegan who thinks eating quinoa makes you morally superior, she jumps at the chance, assuming she can just ship her contraband canines off to some hippy sanctuary run by her mate who probably named their kids after vegetables too. Plot twist: She can keep the dogs as long as some jobsworth comes round occasionally to make sure they haven't developed a taste for human flesh.

I mean, what in the actual fuck? How does that work? "Oh yes, you own four technically illegal dogs that look like they could star in their own horror film, but sure, here's some vulnerable children to raise." Unless they're secretly planning to film some twisted remake of The Brady Bunch where the family pets are all apex predators, I'm not seeing the logic.

The whole thing's got my brain doing gymnastics that would qualify for the Olympics. Pour enough tequila down my throat and I'll start ranting about how this is all part of some grand conspiracy where vegans are actually running the government and using policy loopholes to slowly drive us all mad. Maybe that's their endgame – make everything so utterly nonsensical that we all give up and start eating nothing but lentils just to make it stop.

All I know is somewhere, in some alternate dimension, there's a version of reality where this makes sense. This is not that reality. This is the reality where my friend names a muscle-bound killing machine after a vegetable and somehow that's not even the weirdest part of the story.

[kylekozmikdeluxo]

Warning, gonna get political in this personal #longpost:

I've seen some compare the feverish support for VP Kamala Harris in her circling of the 2024 nomination to the wave the lot of us felt in 2008 when Obama was running for president and eventually won.

Weirdly enough, the 2008 election was coinciding with a time in my life where things pendulum-swung from utterly miserable to what seemed like the happiest of times. While this year isn't as terrible as that year, it's been pretty rough for me... and with this election coming up, should we prevail and defeat fascism once again, seems to indicate that things could get better for me.

Last weekend, I took Sunday off. I wanted to have a complete battery-recharge day. Funnily enough, that Sunday was when President Biden announced that he wasn't going to run for re-election, and his immediate endorsement of Harris... And then the subsequent outpouring of support for her, and ongoing support... This past week, despite work bogging me down and other crap, I've been feeling strangely optimistic about things...

And I remembered 2008... Right around this time. I was simultaneously feeling miserable and bleak about life and the future in general, but also in total "fuck it" mode. Ready to get out of this miserable feeling and be a relatively happy teenager again. As I got closer to being out of high school, with junior year around the corner, and an election... Though the contradictory thing is, I was far less liberal than I am back in 2008. And that was largely because, I feel, I was young and dumb. Susceptible to what most of my family, who range from fairly conservative to far right MAGA, believed and told me. But even back in 2008, I knew something was up and I didn't believe it entirely... And as the years went by, and I started to see through all of that libertarian "liberals are anti-American and will take away your freedom!" nonsense, I rediscovered that I was always lefter than the center.

So, 2024... I'm 31 going on 32, I'm much more aware than I was in 2008, and am indeed voting for Kamala. Yet I see some parallels... Life's far from great for me right now, and I would like to feel better about things and where I'll be standing - financially - in the future. Ya know, wanting stability and those kinds of things. 15-year-old me in July 2008 was also tired of feeling like crap. And feeling like the worst person in the world, and was more than ready to finally be out of school one day.

And by the autumn of 2008, I was almost mentally unstoppable. Like, I was barely bothered by virtually anything, until a death in the family had happened at the end of March 2009 and sent my brain into an anxiety spiral. So, that was an idea of how things changed, as life got different and weirder and better. I might not have seen it back then, but Obama winning after eight years of the misery and the crushing weight of the Bush administration really was a sign of things switching gears... And I see that with Kamala. I see that with the subtle shifts, such as the decline in taking the high road when telling off MAGA assholes hurling harmful accusations at anyone who even slightly opposes them. This J.D. Vance turd is giving Sarah Palin vibes, but worse. The couch stuff is genuinely hilarious, and it's just so cool to see the lot of us finally taking the gloves off and just hitting these fuckfaces where it hurts.

But it's just fitting because it's a somewhat younger candidate, and one who isn't a white guy at that, facing off against... An old, deteriorating white windbag who refuses to go away, fascism personified trying once again to barge its ugly head into our lives. Much in the same way the McCain-Palin ticket looked to be a continuation of the usual Bush-style misery and economic woes. This is the Former Guy's third go at running, and he lost the popular vote twice despite the Electoral College going "lol nope" to the 65m people who voted for Hillary in 2016. 3 strikes, 'yer out. Like others, I feel the seismic shift. Former Guy blubbers like a buffoon, nearly got taken out by one of his OWN types, and picked a real winner of a running mate... While Kamala really rose up and took this past week by storm. What was once a sea of despair is now suddenly full of hope...

And taking that mental health day last Sunday really just amplified that for me. While I'm grateful for this current Presidency's progress and that they staved off fascism for a few years... I picture this all like a DARK SOULS-esque boss battle, the scary killer boss being MAGA/the GOP/the whole right... And at the moment, I saw Biden as a sort of heart health. A few little ones, that were dropped into the arena and we were able to stay alive during the fight. But now it feels like a pretty solid power-up or weapon was dropped into the arena, and we have more of a chance to not only narrowly defeat this beast, but also do it without being exhausted by the end of all. I don't know, it just feels good that we're running her against that clown, and not someone who might not make it to the end of their second term. And that's what I like about this, it seems as if Biden did this for the country instead of clinging to his power for another long period of time... like OTHERS tend to do.

Anyways, I hope we win in November, and that my life is way better around that time than it is currently...