#i have gripes with some of the choices they made in some of the other super music collections but this is the onyl one that like

[moonsidesong]

i like pokemon diamond and pearl's soundtrack but im also eternally mad at it because the super music collection is sorted in the most annoying manner physically possible and it makes you actively bored of music you otherwise liked

[dresshistorynerd]

Ranking Men's Costumes in Period Dramas - Part II: The Good

Part I: The Bad

This is the second part to my ranking of men's costumes in Renaissance period dramas. I selected 10 shows and films which I think have great costuming for the female characters and ranked them according to their costumes for male characters. I have noticed that even when women's costuming is great, men's costuming might be absolutely dog shit. And that's very much what we saw in the first part, where I ranked the five worst entries. For some reason shows and movies are afraid to put men, especially the characters who are supposed to be cool, manly and hot, into historical costumes. And I'm not even asking for historical accuracy, I just don't want my male characters living in the actual 1500s in basically modern leather jackets and pants. Like I don't watch period dramas for vaguely historically inspired modern fashion, I watch it for the historical setting, which costumes help create. This time we will be looking some rare gems that actually imo have really good costuming even for the male characters. For the five best entries, we'll go from worst to best.

5. Eizabeth R (1971)

Elizabeth R is incredibly committed to historical accuracy in it's outfits, especially for queen Elizabeth herself, many of her costumes being directly recreated from her portraits. It covers the whole reign of Elizabeth, so this commitment is especially admirable as the timeline is more than 40 years, including a stark shift in fashion from less structured and more toned down Tudor fashion to the extremes of the highly structured Elizabethan fashion. It's not perfect, The hair is not always great and like many others they fail at French hoods, though they are not upward pointing or pseudo crowns detached from the hood, so could be much worse.

The men's costumes are also very good. They are faithful to history, they wear stockings, very short trunk hose, ruffs and even have some structuring in their doublets and jerkins. However, the reason this is not higher is that the men's costumes especially, but also many other costumes beside Elizabeth's are looking a little sloppy. There's some structure yes, but the men's silhouettes are just not bold enough and they end up looking a little costumy. Even the codpieces are shrunk so small I'm not even sure if they are there half the time. Cowardice. Here's two Robert Dudley's costumes and an actual portrait of him. I think the second costume is probably an attempt at recreation of that portrait, but it's just kinda halfway there.

4. Taming of the Shrew (1967)

This film is set in Renaissance Italy, the women's costumes fit well to 1520s-30s. They are honestly really great and cohesive. My only gripe is that their bodices have a very 1960s shape and the make-up is a little distractingly modern. But the costuming is not attempting to recreate historical accuracy, rather they took the historical silhouette and basic elements and crafted a very over the top but cohesive look. I honestly love these very much.

An interesting choice is made with the men's costuming, especially the main male lead, whose costume is based much more on the Renaissance German men's fashion of that period. His costumes resemble the over the top fashion of the German Landsknecht (first image below). In Italy (second image below) the doublets were also very voluminous and quite colourful but not to that extent as by the Landsknecht and literally no one, not even the other Germans, rocked that slashed style as hard.

This is not really criticism though. In fact I respect that choice a lot. His costumes are certainly not historically accurate, but they do fit the bombastic aesthetics of the overall costuming, they are loud, large and not afraid to fuck around. This man oozes sex-appeal much more than any character with some modern plain black pants and leather jacket. This is how you costume a Renaissance man who fucks.

3. Tulip Fever (2017)

I am stretching the definition or Renaissance here a bit, I admit. This movie is set during the 1630s tulip mania, by which point the remnants of Renaissance fashion had already been left to the previous decade. However, I do think most of the movies and TV set in Baroque era also struggle with the men's costumes. Though not as much, because black was fashionable for everyone, the cod piece was gone, trunk hose were replaced by more palatable Venetian hose, fashion was much more stripped down from embellishments, leather was not uncommon in jerkins and appeared even in doublets and hose and the Hollywood's beloved boots became actual fashion items. The men's silhouette in this period is very silly in my opinion and people seem to agree because it's usually skipped in costuming, but overall the period seems to fit modern masculinity standards much more easily than Renaissance era.

But I just really wanted to include this because the costuming is absolutely stunning (and let's be honest we are a bit desperate here trying to find 5 actually good examples). I have not watched the movie and probably never will because the post production was an absolute mess and it apparently came out as just a very bad movie, which is a shame, since the costumes are so good. The ruffs are perfectly crispy. The buttons are dense and look just right. The shoes, both boots and otherwise are so on point. The fabrics are honestly perfect. The silhouettes are just as goofy as they are supposed to be. And the women too have perfect silhouettes. All the details are just simply perfect. You rarely find costuming this meticulously created with historical details and great construction.

Honestly these top three could all be the best one. This final order was decided purely on which costumes I like more. And while I love the women's fashion of this period, I think the men's fashion is kinda stupid and boring, so I don't like these costumes on aesthetic level as much as the top two.

2. Romeo and Juliet (1968)

This movie is a perfect counterpart to the movie with the worst men's costuming which I talked about in the first post, Rosaline. They are both set in Italy around very end of 15th century and retell Romeo and Juliet. Both have very good costuming for female characters but obviously I think differ greatly in the male character costuming department. Romeo and Juliet costuming takes some artistic liberties to create a heightened reality quite similar to Taming of the Shrew costuming, but follows history much more closely. The colors are bright, the hose are tight, the giorneas are voluminous, the sleeves are long and massive and the cod pieces are prominent. Even the hair is perfect, even for women, they even use hairnets. I imagine the men's hair was quite easy to get right as hairstyles in 60s and 70s were basically lifted directly from 1400s Italian men's hairstyles. The men are even wearing appropriate goofy hats??? Amazing.

The costuming perfectly captures the era, but they still clearly had fun with it too. Honestly even though I appreciate the meticulously recreated historically accurate costuming, like in Tulip Fever, I tend to like more costuming that does take some artistic liberties to create a distinct look and atmosphere for the movie or TV show. There's some small things they don't get quite right, like having standard lacing instead of ladder lacing, metal eyelets (which would become a thing as late as in 1830s) and most egregiously Juliet in one scene has this very dumb supportive undergarment without even shift under it (first picture below)?? The outer garments were supportive during this era, there was no such thing as supportive undergarment which was any different from the outer kirtle (or gamurra in Italy). Shift was the only truly undergarment. But I will forgive these errors because the costuming is overall so fun and gorgeous. And they did get some details so so right, like look at Romeo's arming doublet (second picture below)! It has Lombardian sleeves!! This was a very specific style of arming doublet for this era and place. However those errors does prevent it from taking the first place. Which leads us to...

1. Orlando (1992)

This movie has Tilda Swinton in flamboyant Elizabethan men's clothing. That's all.

Okay, I that is all that needs to be said, but I will say more. This movie spans centuries and shows excellent costumes from several different periods, but I will focus on the Elizabethan costumes only for the sake of this post. The costuming is not super historically accurate in all the detailing, and clearly not trying to be, but it is always impeccable. Even while it takes artistic liberties and the story has an immortality fantastical element it still captures the men's fashion's silhouette much better than any other movie or TV show I know of set in this period. It does that better than the "we recreated these portraits" Elizabeth R. But what really makes this the best in my humble opinion, is that the movie is not afraid of the effeminate and emasculated modern perception of Renaissance men's fashion, no, it leans into it and uses it to explore the themes. The whole story is very much about gender and gender fuckery. Tilda Swinton plays the titular Orlando who is a cis man in Elizabethan era, becomes inexplicably immortal and later inexplicably turns into a woman for the rest of their several centuries. He is the embodiment of "I'm not sure if they are a butch or a twink" and as a bisexual I can only be grateful. But in all seriousness I think the costuming and the casting (queen Elizabeth is also played by a male actor) are so perfectly utilized to highlight the arbitrary construction of gender without needing to say it explicitly.

Conclusion

I have some closing thoughts. I took on this task as a way to show a point, which is that for some reason in Renaissance shows and film especially men's costuming is piss-poor, even when women's costuming is great. Male characters tend to have very bad costuming in Medieval media too, though this is also an issue for female characters. I don't think I have ever seen a Medieval show or movie with truly excellent costuming for anyone. In Renaissance media the issue is clearly not lack of skill or knowledge, they choose to do so. My thesis was that the producers think that the Renaissance men's fashion is too effeminate and too unsexy for the Hot Very Heterosexual Male Lead, who the mostly female audience are supposed fawn over like the female characters do. After the analysis think my hypothesis holds up.

Though there's an interesting trend I only noticed while doing this ranking; every entry (except the least bad) in the worst five list are from 21th century, and every entry (except Tulip Fever which is a little bit cheating anyway) in this best five list are from 20th century. I have some theories on why it turned out this way. First is that the studios have become increasingly more concerned with growing profits so they don't take risks and they put pressure on movies and TV shows to be as broadly appealing as possible. This means they can't just make period dramas for the core audience of period dramas, aka mostly women who are history nerds, so they pander to the modern sensibilities in costuming and not to the people who love to see actual historical costuming. Secondly, I think this might also tie to the broader conservative backlash against loosening of gender roles and broader queer acceptance. Among the core audiences of period dramas there are two distinct groups, queer nerds and conservative women, who don't want politics in their media, which is why they love historical stories because obviously queerness wasn't invented yet and people of colour didn't exist yet (they were and did). (They are ofc not always this extreme, but you get the point.) As men wearing dresses has become a culture war issue, I think the studio executives are afraid that anything not masculine enough in modern standards might alienate the more conservative audiences, and more broadly those who don't want to feel like they are engaging with modern political culture war topics in their escapist media. Even if they knew about the queer nerds, they wouldn't care about them and assume they will go along with it anyway. After all not challenging modern gender roles is not seen as an active choice, it's the default.

This bears repeating: cowards.

As a thank you for reading all the way to the end I will leave you with the image of Tilda Swinton in mid 1600s men's clothing. You are welcome.

Part I: The Bad

[restwellsoon]

Off Tangent

Pairing: Todoroki Shouto x F!Reader x Kirishima Eijiro, minor Todoroki Shouto x Kirishima Eijirou

Summary: Girl math is thinking that you can take pro heroes Shouto and Red Riot at once when you can hardly take two fingers. Luckily for you, having a good romp doesn’t have to be as mind-boggling as algebra.

/ While Kirishima explored you with wonder over the new and unknown, to Shouto, he knew you well enough, knowing every place that made you ache. The redhead’s excitement was a reminder that though he shared you tonight, you were his tomorrow and the next.

Warnings: Double penetration (double vaginal), threesome, sexualizing their Quirks, light degradation, dom/sub undertones, temp play, praise kink, humor, fluff, established relationship, alcohol

Minors and blank blogs DNI!

Even if things weren’t adding up, you could hardly complain about your situation. The wet sounds of skin on skin and murmurs of praise made it all too easy to get lost in sensation. There shouldn’t have been anything more pressing to think about, only things to feel, and yet your mind still wandered, even if it was just for a moment. 

Tonight was unusual, no, maybe special was a better word for the occasion. Getting drinks with Shouto’s friends wasn’t outside of the norm. The bar beside your apartment was known for its discrete treatment of superpowered patrons, making it an easy choice for meet ups. You were used to seeing Momo and Midoriya, but they weren’t there tonight; both were tasked with the night patrol in their designated precincts. Instead, there was Bakugou who finally warmed up to you, and Kirishima who you hardly, if ever, saw. It was a rare occasion to see him with the group. Similar to Iida, his patrol route and schedule were often opposite of Shouto’s, so the redhead usually wasn’t present. At least Camie was there to fill the lull in any conversations.

“Hey beautiful!” She beckoned, drawing a few looks, mostly from an annoyed Bakugou. She slapped on the vinyl seat beside her–a special spot reserved for you.

Kirishima shot up, pulled out the chair, and even took care to push you in. You swore you felt a calloused sweep of fingertips across your shoulders, but Shouto’s lack of reaction convinced you that it was nothing. 

“A gentleman, isn’t he?” Camie commented before glancing at the blond to her side. “Unlike some people.” He grunted in response. It seemed that Camie was still bitter about their team-up a few months back. An allegedly careless Bakugou blasted too close to her scene, ruining her illusion, but more importantly her fresh blowout.

And it was nothing other than good food, good drinks, and good conversation until Bakugou was the first to go.

He smirked at Shouto before tugging a mask loop behind his ear–a sorry excuse of a disguise, really, since his trademark red eyes and blond hair were still visible.

“Moving up in the ranks just means that I’ll be busier. Might be awhile before I see you extras again.”

You winced at his cringiness. You still weren’t used to his manner of speaking, but Shouto wasn’t phased.

“I suppose that means that Midoriya will be busier than all of us.”

Stifling a laugh behind your hand, Camie and Kirishima diffused the situation with exaggerated ‘oohs’ and teasing.

“Luckily for you,” the redhead slapped his friend’s back, “Shou’s got ice for that sick burn.”

“Oof! Just take the L, Bakubro, and don’t say anything,” Camie sniggered, hooking her arm through his. “And to help you walk outta here with some dignity left, I’ll even walk with ya to the train station.” 

She flashed you a peace sign, “Gotta wake up early for a podcast interview overseas. Later, girlie!”

With only you, Shouto, and Kirishima left, you expected him to say his goodbyes as well, but instead he ruffled the back of his head before shoving his fists in his pockets, looking at you both with puppy dog eyes. “Well, shit, I didn’t expect the night to end this soon, unless…?”

You felt bad. Kirishima was just griping about how his precinct being understaffed due to some injuries. He’s been working overtime for three months now.

“It’s not like we have any plans for tomorrow,” you started, waiting for Shouto’s agreement. He nodded.

“Come over. Our place is right there anyway.”

Kirishima followed behind you, practically bouncing the entire way.

–

It was a dumb question yet you couldn’t help but feel flustered otherwise. Drawing the duvet up to your nose, you wondered why your boyfriend didn’t automatically know your answer. Daring to look at him, Shouto waited for your answer patiently. There wasn’t any way you could avoid this.

Swallowing nervously, you answered before trying to hide back into the blanket, “Obviously, it’s you.”

Tutting, he undid your work to push back a strand of hair that got in your face—a flimsy shield from his questioning. His movement pushed back the blanket too, and gooseflesh prickled your skin.

“You didn’t even know who I was when we met.” The corners of his mouth twitched upwards as he looked down at you with thick lashes. There wasn’t any offense in his voice, only amusement.

You argued back, “Did too. I just pretended not to know you. How could I act normal when one of Japan’s most eligible bachelors was approaching me?”

That heated hand strayed from your ear to the side of your neck, settling along its curve. “That’s a conversation for another time.” And you knew that your little comment wouldn’t be forgotten. “But really, who’s your hero crush? Everyone has at least one.”

Embarrassment and shyness crept up your chest and towards your cheeks, and you hoped that he couldn’t feel the difference. He could, he’d later tell you.

“Red Riot,” you finally admitted, before adding “it’s not like I’m a fan girl though!”

How could you ignore him when he was plastered all over your social media feeds? It’s not like you actively sought out all those posts about Red Riot either. Apparently the algorithm thought you hung out with thirsty motherfuckers–and it was true for the most part; officer workers needed some sort of eye candy to help them through the day–and decided to share their horniess with you.

Satisfied with your answer, he settled back into his spot beside you. “Maybe you have a thing for redheads,” he mused before asking if he should dye all his hair that color.

“Absolutely not!” You sat up in bed to prove your point, nearly knocking Shouto out in the process. “That’s part of your appeal! It’s like two different looks depending on the angle.”

Shouto didn’t need to hear anymore about how opposites attract and how his looks were the perfect embodiment of that, but if he kept teasing you like this, you were willing to steer the conversation in that direction.

His lips curved upwards, turning into an actual smile, the playfulness practically spilling from his mouth. It took you months into the relationship to recognize the slightest tells of his teasing. 

“Oh, so it’s like you have two boyfriends depending on which side you’re on?”

Your index finger dug into his chest. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it!”

Playtime was over. Your show was starting soon, and you’d prefer to be at ease in his arms instead of squirming for his amusement.

–

It was hard to take Camie seriously in general but even more so when she wagged her index finger around like a mother who knew best, pointing at the cushioned space between you and Mina.

“The best way to go about it is to find two randos to bone.” Finally her manicured nail landed on you as she advised that couples should hook up with someone they knew but weren’t close to. You weren’t sure why she looked at you with those eyes of certainty, as if they were silently begging you to know some secret. “If it sucks–in a bad way obvi–you probs won’t care if you tell  your third to get the bird.” She made a crude gesture with her hand.

Bottomless mimosas made sure that whatever arithmetic skills you had were gone for the day. What was the point of making things make sense when you were having fun?  The conversation kept ping ponging from couples to threesomes to the abysmal sex your friends were having while single. You laughed as Mina divulged in her latest date.

“Are you talking about the latest hero team ups?” Shouto’s voice called from the entry way before the door shut behind him.

His hair was damp, meaning that he must have showered at the agency. The occasional droplets that fell from his hair were enough to distract you from the conversation.

“Yeah,” Mina laughed, “somethin’ like that, Icy Hot.”

From the way you were eyeing him, it was clear that it was time for your friends to leave. She reached over to Camie, pulling her up, but the honey blonde wasn’t ready to leave until Mina gave her an obvious nudge. 

“Well, girly pop, we’ll leave you lovebirds alone for now!” She leaned in for a quick hug, “And don’t forget what we talked about!”

Shouto waited for them by the door to say a quick goodbye, making a comment about Midoriya keeping everyone updated on the latest duos and teams. It was informative, he told them,  encouraging them to sign up for the mailing list if they wanted to know more.

“Those ain’t the double teams we’re interested in, bub.” Camie giggled. “Thanks though. Alright–one last goodbye. TTFN, babes!”

As the click of their heels faded down the hall, you rounded on Shouto. Now that the initial stun of his good looks were gone, you were bold enough to tell him to drop the  oblivious act now that your friends were gone.

“What do you mean?” He smiled, leaning back against the kitchen counter.

You gave him a hard look, and he stretched out his arms in return.

With a huff, you went into his arms. It’d be easier to scold him up close anyway.

“Your PR manager can make you act as oblivious as you want in public, but I know that you heard everything we were talking about Shou.”

One of his hands slipped from your waist to play underneath your shirt. He might as well have gotten underneath your skin with the tone he was speaking in.

“Why were you talking about that anyway? Do you want to bring someone into our bed?”

Luckily for you, your bra unhooked while you answered, giving you a plausible reason for the hitch in your voice. “No–well, uh, yes, but um, Mina was the one to bring it up first! You know that she’s been single for a while, and Camie well, you know how she is…”

His pause was long as his fingers trailed up your spine. He hummed. “Well, alright. We can talk about this again when you’re less embarrassed.”

“You little shit,” you groused, “you’re not as innocent as you pretend to be.”

“Aren’t you happy that I’m only this way with you?” He leaned down.

Any intentions of acting out begrudgingly faded as the kiss led to more clothes on the floor and  urged steps towards the bedroom.

–

You were happy to have the help of alcohol to keep the conversation going. Shouto’s hand was heavy whenever he poured drinks, the habit worsened when he was even the slightest bit buzzed. They weren’t enough to send you over the edge, but you were in that sweet spot where everything tingled and had a pleasant haze. 

“Seriously!” Kirishima laughed. “You don’t have to be so formal with me.” It was probably the alcohol that was making your heart flutter when he said your name. “Kirishima is what my manager calls me when I’m in trouble. You can just call me Kiri.”

“Alright, Kiri,” you acquiesced, staring at your drink. At the time, you didn’t know that you’d be calling out that name all night.

–

You still couldn’t remember what sparked the conversation. Maybe a comment, a look, a laugh. All that really stuck out was a playful peck on the cheek that turned into a heated kiss with wandering hands. Kirishima’s red gaze was on you, but you didn’t mind it at that moment. 

His words stuck out as oddly shy from his usual manner of speaking. “Did you really mean that?”

The smoothness and confidence in Shouto’s voice surprised you and Kirishima too. “Don’t feel pressured if you don’t want to.”

When he said that he might not make it back to his place, Kirishima didn’t think you’d take his comment so seriously. “You can stay here tonight then,” you told him, only looking back at Shouto to see if it was okay after the offer. When he told him that he could stay in your bed too, Kirishima thought it was a classic case of Shouto being overly polite. He practically choked when he clarified that he meant in bed with both of you.

Never in his wildest dreams would he peg Shouto to be interested in something like this, but when he saw that nervous yet hopeful look in your eyes, he realized he was doing it for you. And maybe it was drunk logic, but what kind of friend would he be if he couldn’t help a friend in need?

“So what exactly do you want me to do?”

Shouto looked at you for the answer. Having both of their eyes on you made everything feel so real to the point that it was nearly sobering. You felt self-conscious as you rambled out your list of wants. Your glass was still half-full; it was difficult to look at either of them directly.

“I want both of you at once.”

“Where?” Kirishima asked.

Your pause clued Shouto in to what you wanted, and you swore you felt the pride swell in his chest when he told Kirishima that he’d show him where.

“I just want to feel good. I want to feel pretty and used but cherished. Does that make sense? Seriously Shou, don’t give me that look. This is embarrassing enough as it is. Is there anything you want?”

Shouto was straight-forward and simple as always. “Make her cum.”

To ease your nerves, he kissed you with sweetness, ending it with an affectionate peck on the lips and that softness in his eyes that always made you swoon.

You worked on removing each other’s clothes, and now with a groan of frustration and need, you realized that your liquid courage hadn’t left you completely. Your hands kept fiddling with Shouto’s pants.

“Need some help, sweetheart?” Kirishima asked from behind. Your heart nearly lept into your throat as his body pressed into yours. His desire brushed behind your thigh as his hand took your shaking one, guiding it in one smooth motion to pull down Shouto’s zipper, the last of his clothes finally falling to the floor.

“Thanks Kiri.”

“No prob, gorgeous.” 

You were close enough to hear the pull of his lips twist up into a smile, to feel his heated breath against your neck. Again, your hands stalled, awkwardly skimming Shouto’s chiseled hip.

“It’s okay to be nervous,” your boyfriend reassured you as he guided you onto your back. Shouto’s voice was an anchor, smoothly giving you commands. The couch was comfortable and felt familiar beneath your fingertips. He was right. It was okay to relax too. “Because we’re going to take care of you,” he promised. “We’ll make you feel good.”

It wasn’t difficult to admire either of them, but seeing them together was nearly too much stimulation for your eyes. Embarrassingly, you spent more time looking at Kirishima. Shouto’s body was familiar with his long, lean muscles and smooth skin. Kirishima was noticeably wider and thick with more fat padding the muscles beneath it. You didn’t dare to look at Shouto’s eyes. You both knew that you were staring.

Feeling a cold touch on your knee, your eyes finally met his. “I’m telling you to do this for us, love, not asking you.” His hand pushed your knee outwards. He wanted you to spread your legs. And you did, the change in Shouto’s tone making your heart flutter. 

When you were finally spread, you fought the urge to close them once more. Both men looked at your center intently. 

“I told you, didn’t I?” Shouto spoke to Kirishima. It was as if you weren’t there or couldn’t hear them. “Look at how pretty her pussy looks?” 

He nodded in agreement, saying that he couldn’t wait to taste you. Though he and Shouto had a similar directness in their speech, you felt shy towards his enthusiasm.

“Kiri!”

His tongue already lapped at your clit before licking a stripe downwards, sucking and tasting all of your wetness. The thick index finger he added earned another yelp, followed by a moan. After a minute of gentle prodding, he added a second finger.

“Nothing beats a wet and wanting cunt,” he pulled back to tell Shouto. The way he smiled at him was shameless, his lower lip and chin covered in saliva and your sweetness. Kirishima even demonstrated his point, moving his thick body aside so Shouto could see you. He scissored your hole, gave it a pump, and pulled out as quick as he could. The sounds were lewd as he fingered you lazily.

And the sounds didn’t go unnoticed by Shouto. He peered over Kirishima’s shoulder, leaning over to look as if he hadn’t seen your body before, as if he hadn’t felt it, before giving a pleased smile. While Kirishima explored you with wonder over the new and unknown, to Shouto, he knew you well enough, knowing every place that made you ache. The redhead’s excitement was a reminder that though he shared you tonight, you were his tomorrow and the next.

His eyes trailed up your hips, lingering at your heaving chest, before finally meeting your eyes. “So noisy,” he commented–whether it was about your pussy or your whimpers, you weren’t sure. Kirishima’s fingers were thicker and calloused from his training and Quirk. 

“She’s greedy,” he told Kirishima, “look how she keeps on whining for more.”

“Love,” he addressed you, “you can hardly take two fingers, but now you want three?” He smirked. “Soon you’ll be asking for two cocks at once.” Heat rose up your body, or was it the effect of Shouto’s hand on your thigh? He cocked his head at your embarrassment, using that tone you hated. “What? Isn’t that what you were asking for last night? Begging to have your pretty little pussy stretched by my cock and your toy?”

Kirishima perked up from his place between your legs, making a show of the wetness he wiped from his mouth. “Oh yeah? You took them both?” 

He didn’t know the size of your toy, but like everything else on Shouto, his cock was impressive–good proportions, cut, and a nice thick head that was drooling with pre-cum. His trimmed pubes and pink sack only highlighted it more.

“And she took them so well,” Shouto cooed.

Giving himself a quick pump to provide his cock some relief, Kirishima took Shouto’s words as a sign to add in a third finger. It already felt so tight, but the extra digit made you wetter as he continued his pace, this time slower because of the cramped space.

“Your boyfriend’s right, sweetheart,” he said. “You really know how to take it.”

If you just focused on the pleasure, it would be enough to send you over the edge. Kirishima kept bumping and nudging all the spots that made you jump, but it was Shouto’s soft coaching and Kirishima’s praise that would be the ones to push you over. Your toes curled as your breathing hitched, going and going and going until emptiness made you whine.

There were no fingers or Shouto’s hands on your thighs. The boys were talking to each other.

“Mind if I get her ready for us?”

“Be our guest.”

Maybe you were just sensitive or maybe you were annoyed, but the sound of Kirishima spitting was loud, as if it were some display of masculinity. The saliva pooled on the middle of his shaft and he made a show of rubbing it in.

His cock was thick like the rest of his body, not quite the length of Shouto’s but impressive nonetheless. What caught your eye in the haze of your edging were three rows of black beads, one on either end, sitting horizontally beneath his head. You wondered what needle was sharp enough to pierce his skin, then thought he did it without Quirk activation.

Red eyes followed yours before he gave you a wink. “Ribbed for your pleasure,” he joked. “You’ll get what I mean in a second.”

When he entered, your breath was stolen and held in your throat, holding it still until you felt his entirety inside you. Shouto moved to his spot behind Kirishima again, watching you take his cock. Kindly, Kirishima gave you a chance to breathe, pressing your legs back until they touched your shoulders. You thought he’d be positioning you for your comfort, but instead you felt every inch of him. The slightest readjustment made you feel the drag and pressure of his piercings.

“Don’t you look so pretty taking another man’s cock?” Shouto teased you from somewhere in the room. You couldn’t keep your eyes open, breathing focused so you wouldn’t cum just yet. You wanted to feel him fuck you, but the dark tone in Shouto’s voice was making you melt. You had to get a grip on yourself, but it was easier for both men to see that you were losing it.

“Play with her tits, Kiri,” Shouto told him. “Her nipples are sensitive.”

As masculine as Kirishima presented, it was surprising how well he obeyed. His weight pressed into you and the couch as he bent down to suck on your tits. Up close, he lingered for a brief second to watch their sway with the movement before starting with the left, then the right. 

The attention he gave them was nice, more than that, it was delicate as he sucked and nibbled on them. Perhaps you were too used to Shouto’s amusement as he used his Quirk to harden them, giving them a rough pinch to help you cum. It was clear that multi-tasking wasn’t his forte though. His thrusts were shallow. 

“I need to cum,” you finally whined. Between his body and yours, you were able to sneak a hand to your clit, rubbing to get what you were owed.

“You heard her, didn’t you?”

Kirishima’s will power was always one of his more noteworthy traits. It was something your co-workers swooned over. You were learning just how strong it was in a different way though. His movements were rough and shaking the couch. You made a note to yourself that you’d later forget: realign it with the rug. 

The man was talking more to himself than you or Shouto, mumbling about your tightness. His words were clearer when you came. His cock was out–a smart move or else he would have joined you. Continuing to rub it, it was sleek with your juices. “I can’t wait to feel how tight you are when Shouto and I are fucking you.”

Like a rag doll, you let them reposition you as they pleased, still chasing the waves of your orgasm. They buried your face in the cushions as Kirishima pulled your hips up and behind. Your pussy felt tighter when he entered you again. This time your breath was still with you.

“We need to make sure you’re prepped for us.” Shouto’s voice was disembodied and distant again.

Kirishima’s voice was distant too. You were sure if his voice was heavier from the work he was doing or his need to cum. “I’m gonna add a few fingers in, okay? If it’s too much, just tell me. If it’s not enough, beg for more.”

He was true to his word, adding in the first and second digits slowly. “It feels good,” you reassured him.

“Not good enough,” he huffed. He felt your pussy fluttering around his cock and fingers, but you weren’t quite where he wanted you. Kirishima wanted to hear you cry out his and Shouto’s names. He wanted you cock-dumb and slutty where you could only speak in whines.

When you were cumming for the second time tonight, Shouto decided you were ready. Again, they moved you around since you were useless.

“Do you want me to suck your cock?” You asked your boyfriend. Everything was hazy, this time from sex instead of alcohol.

“Nah, I got him,” Kirishima said. That will power of his kept his cock hard and begging for a break. You were surprised he didn’t cum inside you.

His fingers were glossy from their time inside you, and he used that wetness–your wetness–to slick up Shouto’s cock. It was a couple of skilled jerks that slid up Shouto’s length, his large hand wrapping around his girth. He palmed whatever residual was left around his head, and Shouto closed his eyes, letting out a quiet sigh.

You weren’t expecting Kirishima to suck your boyfriend off before they fucked you, but you also weren’t expecting him to handle him so casually. He did it with such ease, and even Shouto looked comfortable. It was surprising how turned on you were from watching someone else play with Shouto’s cock. A part of you thought they’d look so pretty rubbing against each other, both sleek from spit and cum, but that could be a fantasy for another time.

Facing Shouto, he pushed into you, and you felt the familiar press of his cock. When he was fully seated, he pulled you close–a moment of tenderness throughout this debauchery. “Miss me?” You nodded. He gave you a kiss in return.

His lips caught your gasp as your nails dug into his shoulders as Kirishima positioned himself from behind. At first, he could only fit his head. Shouto’s hand trailed the length of your spine before settling on your hip. His Quirk warmed your tense muscles, and with a groan, both cocks were in.

It felt like minutes where there wasn’t any movement, for fear of cumming first. Kirishima finally broke the sounds of heavy breathing. “A pretty cunt and a nice cock to rub against? Seriously, are you two trying to make me cum first?”

“You can if you want to,” Shouto told him. If he left it at that, you would have laughed. “Our poor girl’s cunt will get messy regardless.” You held onto his unspoken promise of multiple creampies.

As if to encourage him, Shouto even took the lead, moving his hips in long, slow strokes. Your sighs were caught in his collarbones as you buried your head there. The intimacy was almost enough to make Kirishima cum then and there.

“Does it feel good too?” You couldn’t help but ask. “Kiri’s cock, I mean.”

The question earned a low rumble from the man behind you. Shouto paused, before saying an almost embarrassed yes. The tightness, the heat, his cock. It was almost overwhelming in the best possible way. Shouto had never had such an experience. “The piercings are… a nice touch.”

“Nice enough to make you cum?”

Kirishima didn’t care much about hero rankings but the thought of beating a Top Ten hero this way would give him a different sort of pride. 

“We have all night to find out,” Shouto told him.

His statement pulled out something primal and competitive inside them as each man started moving at once. You were so greedy to think that you could handle more; you couldn’t. All you could do was whimper and let yourself give in to the pleasure. Was it really so bad to cum first? Their cocks gave you a fullness that you couldn’t even comprehend as each showered you–and each other–in praise. Their hands were needy and wandering as they searched for the spots that would set you off–your tits, your clit, your neck.

Maybe your mind wandered or maybe this orgasm was finally too much. There were stars in your eyes and that familiar tingling that ran from your toes to your spine as your body shook from Shouto and Kirishima’s touch. Everything felt hot and sensitive after that moment.

But you had little time to wonder what happened exactly as a voice sweetly mocked you. “Exhausted already? But we’ve just begun.”

Rest's Main Masterlist / Todoroki Masterlist

[transsongtaewon]

The cork popped to loud cheers, sending foam and champagne flying into the air. Yoojin backed away, laughing, barely even annoyed by how the drops landing on Hyunjae's hair only made him look more beautiful. Like gems sparkling in the sun.

"Hand me your glass, dear husband."

Yoojin was pulled out of his revery. Husband. It would take him some time yet to get used to this title.

"Do you need help even with something as simple as this?", he griped but came closer, holding out his glass. Hyunjae carefully poured the rosé champagne, making sure not to spill a single drop more.

Even their champagne was pink. Matching the rest of the wedding, from their suits, to the decorations, and even the flower petals thrown by his children were all various shades of pink, ranging from a pale pastel to eye-searingly bright.

"As my beloved partner, isn't it your job to assist me in everything, as I shall assist you?" Hyunjae handed the bottle over to Yoojin, who started filling a second glass.

"I suppose I have no other choice, then."

He handed the glass to Hyunjae and turned to look at their guests. Everyone he loved was gathered here, smiling back at him (some more reluctant than others). An arm slid around his waist, Hyunjae's presence as reassuring as always.

"Thank you all, our dear guests, for coming to this wedding." Yoojin raised his glass. "To many happy years!"

He heard the toast echoed from all directions and took a sip of his champagne. Sweet and fruity, making him want to lick his lips.

Before he could get too absorbed in his drink, Hyunjae's face leaned closer. "To many happy years, dear husband."

The kiss tasted even sweeter than the champagne.

Written for Sctir Pride Week Day 1: Pink/Alcohol

[maxwellatoms]

Would you trust ANY Korean studio for hand-drawn animation today? I ask because, when The Powerpuff Girls came back in 2016, I noticed how slow and stiff the Korean animation was. Since then, most Burbank cartoons animated in Korea, namely Cartoon Network shows, have been like that — mostly on 2s & with less inbetweening. Look at any Digital eMation episode of Victor and Valentino or Samurai Jack Season 5; do they animate as loosely and smoothly as Digital eMation episodes of Billy & Mandy do?

Sure I would. It would all depend on the studio and the circumstances. There are good studios and bad studios, and either of those will treat your show differently based on their perception of how valuable it is to their client. In the early 2000s Rough Draft was a top-notch studio. One of the reasons I switched over to eMation from Rough Draft was that I felt like Rough Draft was putting all of its resources into making Samurai Jack look beautiful, and we were still calling retakes on three year old issues. I knew we weren't a priority to Rough Draft, and I knew that stemmed from Cartoon Network's negotiations with them, so my griping was only going to get us so far. It seemed to me that I needed a studio that was smaller and scrappier like we were. We were putting in a lot of work on our end to make cool stuff and it wasn't ending up on the screen, so we needed people who were just as hungry on the back-end, and eMation stepped up.

There's also the fact, though, that animation itself has changed a lot in the last fifteen years. Powerpuff Girls and Samurai Jack's animation always seemed to have an air of "motion comics" to it. And frankly, that's part of what I love about it. It was all a throwback to the old UPA cartoons, which were built on strong, clear poses and made for the cost equivalent of a turkey dinner. Likewise, CN storyboard artists usually had around four weeks to write and draw their boards on paper, so there just wasn't time to take the effort to do anything too complex. It was all about snapping between those 300-ish storyboard drawings and momentarily savoring them for their humor and design mastery. Now we have tons of digital tools that make the basics of animation a lot more accessible to everyone, and have changed the entire studio pipeline. Things just won't look like they used to because nobody makes them that way anymore.

When I've had to choose an overseas animation studio, the network's production arm usually gives me one or three choices and tells me that's all there is. Deals have already been made. (Sometimes they make you pick two to save on costs, which (IMO) usually results in two studios that are less functional than any one of them would have been.) The studios usually have reels, so that gives you a basic idea of what they can do. You can (hopefully) find some other show creators who have worked with the studios and get an honest review. It's an important enough decision that it's worth whatever research you can put into it. Even over good bones, an ill-fitting skin can ruin the mood.

The most important thing to remember, I think, is that it's your job and your crew's job to make animating the show as easy as possible. Really, it's everyone's job to make the next person in line's job as simple as they can. Ideally, there shouldn't be a lot of questions because the materials you sent down the chain are clear.

So... yeah. I'd still trust Korean studios as much as I'd trust any overseas or domestic animation studio. You get out of them what you put into them by feeding them money and your own labor. It's quite possible that the shows you mentioned didn't do enough of either.

I imagine the overseas studios are hurting right now, so who knows what that landscape is even going to look like in a few years.

As with every step of the process making a TV show, you just sort of have to weigh your options and find the path.

Hmm. That got long.

[myfairkatiecat]

Not to be rude but I think it's quite silly to say OP's religious beliefs are irrelevant, and cannot be referenced, because they are not explicitly mentioned in the post being reblogged, when op has stated directly that they are homophobic because of their religious beliefs, and the post being reblogged is being accused of homophobia. Like, if some guy made a post saying "I think no women should be able to have jobs because that makes them less dependent on men and therefore I can't get a girlfriend", then made a separate post saying "Media nowadays glorifies women having jobs too much!! Stay at home mothers need more representation!!!" I think it would be extremely relevant in that situation to say, "Ok, this guy has clearly stated biases in this conversation, which calls into question whether this post is REALLY just about representation in media or whether it's indicative of OP's real life agenda." (Not trying to conflate religion with being an incel here btw, just giving an example of another time when knowing more information about the source of the post changes the way you might interpret it.)

The person reblogging that post didn't just say "OP's username is religious so I'm going to read this as homophobic!!!", they linked a specific post in which OP directly stated "My religion prevents me from accepting LGBT people, and I use my religious texts to justify why being LGBT is wrong." How is that not relevant context for their post griping about how fandom makes everything gay?

Ooh, let’s work within your hypothetical!

Some guy is being misogynistic on their blog but then makes a valid post about how stay at home mother’s don’t get enough representation in media.

If the post that says “stay at home mothers should get more representation!” says absolutely nothing about how women actually shouldn’t ever get jobs, then it’s a good post about the validity of mothers we choose to stay at home and how they deserve more representation in the media! There is therefore nothing wrong with reblogging and agreeing with the post, and going into the reblogs of that post to tell everyone “how hard is it for you to just look at their url and blog and realize they say other stuff that you DON’T agree with?” would be kinda rude.

Reblogging a post boosts the signal on what was said in that post. It doesn’t subscribe you to that person’s entire belief system.

Furthermore, the original poster, Gracie, says very very little about that topic on her blog to keep from offending anyone. I’ve never seen her try to force her beliefs onto anyone. She’s super respectful while also believing, as her religion states, that her God is the one true God. This is a belief claim about a system that would therefore according to her beliefs apply to everyone, but she isn’t forcing anyone to agree with her. The post that was cited in that reblog in which Gracie says explicitly her beliefs regarding the LGBT community and scripture was in a response to an ask that was sent to her. She didn’t even volunteer the information, someone asked her for it, and she replied honestly. I have never seen Gracie be anything but respectful, and if you knew her, you’d know she’s super kind and never would want anyone to feel invalidated or uncomfortable because of something she posts.

No one, including Gracie, is forcing you to agree with her religious beliefs. If they make you uncomfortable, I highly recommend not scrolling through a Christian blog. When people are reblogging her post, they aren’t even necessarily saying they agree with everything she’s ever posted. That topic is entirely separate. If you want to converse civilly with Gracie about why she believes what she believes, I recommend being respectful to her. If you’d rather ignore her all together, I point you towards the block button.

If somebody’s religion or belief system makes you uncomfortable enough that you don’t want to engage with any of their content, that’s your choice, but the people in the reblogs aren’t being “dumb” for not “checking who the source is,” they’re just saying they agree with the post they agree with.

Imagine agreeing with a post you agree with! Novel concept.

In short, posts are independent pieces of text. Reblogging a post doesn’t say anything except “I agree with this piece of text and want to share it.” If that piece of text doesn’t say anything about OP’s religion, then their religion isn’t relevant to the post. It’s as simple as that.

I hope you have a blessed day <3

[oopsallmabari]

minor joking/griping abt ties to inquisition under the cut

*through gritted teeth* I love.....talking about inquisition......devoid of any pointing toward inquisition choices.....I love.....mentioning divine Victoria without any other context as to what she's doing....I......love.......harding acting like she barely mattered in the inquisition........I love.......a josephine mention that doesn't nod to the fact that the inquisitor is her partner.....I love.....harding acting like she barely mattered AND THEN TURNING AROUND TO SAY SHE KNEW PEOPLE WELL ENOUGH TO GET GIFTS REOM THEM?????????? BUT YOU DONT. KNOW THE INQUISITOR?????? Love it. No notes. Thank you bioware.

Like genuinely bioware girlie why have harding as a companion if we don't get to hear. Idk. A perspective on inquisition that changes based on some of the choices made and that doesn't flatten her participation in it.

[thiriumstains]

i have so many things to say about how the android revolution was handled in dbh, especially how most of the conflict was around markus’s choices to be violent or peaceful. idrk how to phrase it all but like. ugh it just bugs me how the androids Have to be peaceful and cooperative in order to gain freedom

a huge part of the revolution is ‘we can’t stoop to the same level as the human’ and it makes me so mad. like yeah sure, murder and hurting ppl isn’t good. but protests for rights have never been peaceful. you don’t gain rights by being peaceful and perfect. i just hate it so much. plus, the game has obvious parallels to the civil rights movement (even if david cage says it’s not. it is. even if it wasn’t, this game is political no matter how u view it. the topic of rights and freedom will always be political) and to imply that the android revolution has to be near perfectly peaceful to succeed is crazy. girl does he think the civil rights movement was entirely peaceful?? someone put him and all the other writers in a god damn history class

not to mention markus. i think the writers saw him as like the equivalent to mlk jr, with the parallels to the civil rights movements and such, which is crazy considering they turned him into their Savior and led the whole movement. like. side eye. idk i love markus’s story, but i think the whole revolution and being turned into a savior robo jesus was so so bad and tone deaf (thank u david cage..) . and the whole revolution TOOK PLACE IN A WEEK. A WEEK. THATS INSANEE. A WHOLE REVOLUTION IN A WEEK IS INSANE. i understand that a game needs to end but we don’t need to see Every Single Second of the story!! spread it out over a month, give characters time to form relationships, let the plot thicken, let things get tense, let things simmer and develop!!! not everything needs to happen on screen!!! one of my biggest gripes about the game is its timeline </3

i know i just rambled a bunch but god it annoys me so much. markus’s story was done so wrong for so many reason, and as a queer person who’s largely interested in protests and movements for rights and such, it just makes me so mad how badly and idealistically it was created. it feels like it was written by humans, by OPPRESSORS, dreaming of a utopia where they are still good people. :/ which i suppose it IS in a way — but still u get my point

EDIT: here are some more things i said in the reblog a that i want more ppl to see

i hate how north’s violence and anger is seen as a bad thing. i hate how markus never gets a moment to rest or interact with people outside of conversations that love the plot forward. i hate how jericho just accepts that they’ll die before they’re violent in order to ‘win.’ i hate that ‘winning’ is even a thing in this context. i hate that androids constantly have to be better than humans and not stoop to they’re level. according to these writer, they can’t be angry in the face of their oppression and that SUCKS.

when i played this game with my cousins, we were so desperate to make every pacifist choice in order to raise our public opinion so we could win. we could tell from the first few markus scenes, he wasn’t allowed to be angry or mad or hateful or violent if he wanted to have close to the same respect humans got. and that SUCKED. it made us feel like we were just taking hit after hit after hit and never accomplishing anything.

i love this game and i love markus (he’s probably my fav character) but the way the revolution is handled is awful considering how it’s such a metaphor for oppression and oppressed ppl. it’s not even rlly a metaphor — it’s just direct symbolism. like. androids are oppressed yet the only way they can fight back without getting murdered and ran down is by being entirely peaceful. there should have been a Balance. you should have valences the violence and the peace in order to get a good outcome. not all one way and all the other way. the game also should’ve been longer than a WEEK. bc that’s rlly a huge issue with it.

outside of maybe the kiss with north and returning to carl’s house/grave, markus doesn’t get a single moment to exist without the revolution and the plot. even those two scenes kinda serve the plot. meanwhile, connor gets moments like looking through hank’s desk, breaking into hank’s house, talking with hank on the bridge to develop his character and relationships outside of the plot. markus doesn’t get that (kara kinda does? but instead of being tied to the plot, she’s just tied to kara the whole time, which can be just as bad).

markus’s friendships never felt… real? they largely felt like it was just bc of all the jericho stuff and the revolution. all his friends just served a narrative purpose. north was the violent choices, josh was the peaceful choices, and simon… well i’ll be honest, simon died rlly early in my play through so i barely knew him. but from what i’ve seen, he’s the ‘cowardly’ route. honestly markus and simon’s friendship seems the most realistic since simon is constantly sacrificing himself for markus and such. which is saying something considering north is markus’s love interest (and that came out of NO WHERE)

with markus and north’s romance, it feels so forced. not to say i hate norkus, but it’s so fast and sudden and u can just Tell it’s for plot reason — which is proved by the kiss at the very end of the game. they had no time to get to know each other or form a relationship outside of the android revolution and keeping jericho together and alive. it gives the vibes of ‘in 2 months we’ll realize we were just in a relationship because he felt we had to be, not because we liked each other romantically’ which, i’ll be honest that vibe is awesome, but considering that was Not what the writers were going for, it falls very flat.

all in all i love markus’s story but by good did the writers fuck it up. get me behind the pencil, i’ll do it myself

[girlwithadragonheart]

Chapter 1 - The Demon of Vyrantium

This story will have spoilers from the game. Like entire quests. If you don’t want those don’t read this. You have been warned.

Rook x Lucanis

Summary: The gods strike at D’Meta’s Crossing. Neve suggests hiring the Antivan Crows and the most respected mage killer out there, turns out he has problems of his own.

Word Count: 8.9k

Warnings: graphic violence, mentions of slavery, cursing, let me know if I missed something it's so long I lost track

A/N: I told you I’d take more creative liberties with the next one didn’t I ;3

Prologue DATV Masterlist Chapter 2(WIP)

I sat across from Neve and Harding at the circle table in the lighthouse to go over next steps.

“So. We stopped the ritual,” Neve said.

“And Varric paid the price,” Harding answered.

“Hey. Varric made his choice to go talk with Solas. He knew the risks. We all did,” I said.

“And now Solas is… gone. And we’re here, wherever here is—besides in the Fade,” Harding thought.

“Solas called it the lighthouse,” I told them.

“He did?” Neve questioned. “When?”

“While I was out cold. He showed up in my dream, and he’s really mad that we stopped his ritual.”

“Good,” Harding said smugly.

“He’s also trapped in some kind of prison in the Face. Not happy about that either,” I explained.

“You’re sure that wasn’t just a dream? It’s a reasonable reaction,” Neve said.

“Solas can speak with people in their dreams. Even kill them,” Harding told her.

“I’m safe on that front. I bled a little when I got knocked out. Enough that he can gripe at me, but not enough that he can make my head explode.”

“So Solas is using blood magic. Like any normal mage would to play with your mind,” Neve replied.

“But he’s not a normal mage. Like I told you, he’s an elven god,” Harding said.

“Putting together a nice ritual doesn’t make him a god,” she shot back.

“The gods of my people were incredibly powerful,” I interrupted their squabbling. “I don’t mean they were powerful like a skilled mage. I mean they destroyed entire cities. They shattered mountains. So no, they might not literally be gods, but they’re a lot worse than whatever you’re thinking.”

“Alright. Well, we’ve stopped the ritual, and there doesn’t seem to be an immediate danger. For now. You’re certain Solas can’t use blood magic to affect your mind?” Neve asked.

“I’m certain that if he could he already would have, but I’m still pissed at him as ever. I’m not certain of anything else, but we’re not out of danger,” I said.

“What do you mean?” Harding asked.

“Solas had two of the other elven gods imprisoned. When he got trapped, they escaped.”

“So those things we saw come out of the fade when the ritual went wild… those are…” Neve’s voice faded.

“Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain. Two of the ancient elven gods that Solas rebelled against. Solas warned me about them being evil, which is pretty rich coming from the guy who just tried to tear down the Veil,” I said.

“You don’t believe him?” Neve questioned.

“No, that’s the problem. I do believe him. He said they were horrific tyrants.”

“Tyrants so powerful elven history remembers them as gods,” Harding added.

“Solas says Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain drew on the blight for power and became corrupted. That was when he imprisoned them.”

“So instead of one… god… running around, we have two. And they’re not just powerful, they’re blighted,” Neve scowled.

“We need to get out there and stop them,” Harding said firmly.

“Just like that? Without Varric? And you’re still getting back on your feet,” Neve looked over at her.

“I’m fine. We can’t just sit here and do nothing!”

“We need to investigate. Figure out what we’re dealing with before we rush in and make things worse,” Neve told her.

“And how many more people will get hurt—get killed—while we spend time investigating?”

I cut them both off. “If Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain are worse than Solas, we can’t go in blind. We need to know what they can do and what they want.”

“But we only have Solas’s word about all of this,” Harding said.

I shrugged. “Then let’s go investigate for ourselves. We find out what we’re dealing with, and then we take our shot.”

“Fine. The eluvian led us here instead of back to Minrathous.”

“Let’s hope it goes back to the ritual site,” Neve said. “Maybe we can find some clues at the scene of the crime.”

“All right, then. Let’s get back to the ritual site,” I said.

—------------------------------------

The second we stepped through the Eluvian, a group of Veil Jumpers were running at us for their lives. Some kind of old elven construct was chasing them, swinging a massive golden axe at their heads. One of them, a woman, was using her magic on a device in her hands, trying to stop the construct, but it didn’t look to be working.

One of them got knocked to the side against a boulder, groaning from the impact. An older dark skinned elf parried the swings of the mighty axe, giving the girl time to work. The construct swung past the elf, the blade going through the device in the girl’s hands. As the device broke, the construct shut down, falling limp.

Harding seemed to know the older elf and the girl. She addressed them as Strife and Irelin. She told us that she met them with Varric when they first started the hunt for Solas. Veil Jumpers, she said they were called, experts in ancient elven magic.

Strife told us millions of artifacts are being faulty and coming alive because of Solas’s ritual, pointing the finger at us because we were supposed to stop him.

I informed him that we did, in fact, stop him, but Solas was now trapped in the Fade and two of the Evanuris escaped. The Veil Jumpers knew the extent of the horrors the Evanuris caused centuries ago. 

“I was really hoping Solas was lying about all of this,” I told them.

Strife frowned. “The god of lies, but some things are sacrosanct, even to him. He might be a bastard, but he’s a damned sight better than the Evanuris.”

I snorted. “No kidding.”

They still had dozens of Veil Jumpers unaccounted for, but Irelin said if we could find Bellara Lutare it would be a massive assist. Apparently, she was the best there is at working with the ancient elven artifacts. She was off looking for one before the ritual shook everything loose.

Harding told them we would go and get Bellara, but I told her to stay behind and help the Veil Jumpers because they needed her. Definitely not because she was still injured and way too stubborn to see sense.

—--------------------------------------

“Protocol is to wait at least a week before sending anyone to look for me, I’ve only been gone for three days,” she said, twisting her hips back and forth in place like a child being scolded.

“Well, things have taken a turn for the worse, I’m afraid,” I told her. “Our gods are back and they’re trying to take over the world.”

“Our gods… I need a moment,” she said.

“Take all the time you need. It won’t help, unfortunately, I’ve known for days and it still hasn’t quite sunk in yet,” I replied.

“That is quite a predicament.” She sighed, looking around. “All right, but I need your help first, I’m on to something big here.”

“Just tell me what you need,” I smiled.

“We’ll take what we can get,” Neve told her.

As it turned out, Ancient Elven ruins could be tricky. Barriers and old mechanical devices that were rare in these times. Luckily, it was pretty straightforward to figure out and Bellara was a great help finding our way through the ruins. Whatever work she had done with elven ruins and artifacts would definitely come in handy.

It was all fine and dandy when we found what we were looking for, except for the ogre that decided to pay us a visit and try to wreck our shit.

A lot of its attacks I could parry or at least redirect. Some I could only dodge, and I spent most of the fight doing so, shooting firebolts in between its attacks.

It finally fell, and I sheathed my dagger, fighting to regain my breath. 

Bellara found what she was looking for, the “Nadas Dirthalen” or the eighth archive or the archive spirit. Pick whichever you want to describe it, it was an artifact crafted with the knowledge of the gods and it could give us information we might need. If she could fix the crystal, that is.

We headed back to the Veil Jumper camp and they told us one of the towns they work closely with had gone dark. A place called D’Meta’s Crossing. With everything going on, it likely wasn’t a coincidence. Harding rejoined the three of us and we boarded a boat to go check it out.

—----------------------------------

D’Meta’s Crossing was on the far side of the lake. It was bleak when we approached on the water. 

“This isn’t right,” Bellara said. “The dock usually has people bringing goods to market, bartering and shouting… It’s always busy.”

“Stay sharp,” I said as I climbed out of the boat.

The main entrance to town was barricaded. Clearly not to keep anything out. We moved to the side, seeing a smaller barricade. I pulled myself over it, eyes going wide as I dropped down. The place reeked, and there was blight everywhere. These masses, they looked like rotting tumors, not the decay or stagnation of the normal blight, this was alive.

There were cysts that popped like blisters when fired at or hit with anything and exploded. The second I stepped foot in this place I felt I needed a shower.

We moved further in, sticking close together. There was a villager standing by a home completely taken over with the blight.

His face was drained of all color and his eyes were black. “What happened here?”

He stared at me. Well, through me. “Keep them inside. Listen to the mayor.”

My brows furrowed. I waved a hand in front of his face. Unresponsive. “What’s controlling them? Blood magic? The blight?”

We moved deeper in. The town square was even worse for wear. There were bodies everywhere taken over by the blight-cysts. We continued on, keeping an eye out for survivors. There was no one that the blight hadn’t taken over, either their bodies or their minds.

We came to a part of town blocked off by a wall of the blight. A bright red bulb pulsated at the center of it. I shuddered, taking a couple steps back and blasting cold from my fingers to minimize the explosiveness.We had gotten through it, but only a narrow passageway. Squeezing between a corridor of the blight was not on the top of my bucket list.

I would desperately need a bath after this.

We came to the other side and a giant mass of the blight stood in the center. At the center of it looked like a person was being held there.

“Mihlva!” Bellara gasped, running over to one of the bodies.

“One of your fellow Veil Jumpers?” I asked, watching the blight tendrils wrap around them and pull them away. I moved to the mass at the center. The man in it was moving. “Bellara!”

She looked over. “Jahel! He’s alive!”

“Bellara?” The man groaned.

“We’re going to help you… we’ll get you down, Jahel,” Bellara said.

A tendril snaked around his neck. “No… listen. The gods… the gods have returned. I saw… them. I heard their voices.”

“The gods did this?” Bellara questioned, panic evident in her voice.

“A blood ritual,” he said. “To release the blight. The villagers… they said they needed power… Bellara… be careful…” That tendril looped around his neck twice over, caressing his lips as he spoke before tightening around his throat.

His body was strangled, blood spilled to the cobbled streets, the blight pooling at our feet. The ground shook, and I heard someone shout for help.

We ran through the remains of the village, shooting down the blight we could along the way. Coming through an archway of it, we came out to the other side of the village. A man was wrapped in barbed fleshy pink tentacles, a writhing mass of the blight.

“Help me! Hurry!” He yelled, panicked.

The ground shook and a dragon shot up into the sky, screeching as it landed, crushing debris underfoot.

“No! Please!” The man yelled as the writhing mass drew tighter around him. I looked between him and the dragon, feeling my chest tighten. I stepped forward, putting two fingers to my lips to produce a loud whistle.

It took a step toward me, and I stared it down as embers floated from its mouth. After a moment, as though fighting a command, I watched it back off and fly into the horizon, roaring as it went.

I took a breath, approaching the man in the mass. 

“I know you,” Bellara said. “You’re the mayor of this town.”

“The village… the people… are they…?”

“Blighted. Dead. All of them,” Harding said.

“You gave them to the gods, didn’t you? Didn’t you?” Bellara spat.

The mayor sobbed. “They were in my head… infecting my thoughts. They made me do it… Please, help me!”

“Deep breaths… Tell me what happened,” I said gently. If it really was blood magic he may not have been acting completely of his own will.

“I tried to protect people. You have to believe me. The gods told me to lure the Veil Jumpers to the center of town. The others were to be rounded up and kept safe. They would be the first to witness the glory of Ghilan’nain’s new creation… She showed me gold. So much gold…”

“So you brought the Veil Jumpers to the middle of town…” I said.

“For a blood sacrifice!” Bellara cut me off.

“Because the gods needed power,” Neve concluded.

“Did you know what the gods would do?” I questioned him.

“The Veil Jumpers… they were just strangers. I thought if they were taken first, everyone else might be spared.”

“So you did know!” Bellara yelled.

“The gods exploited his greed and fear,” Neve said.

“I’m supposed to feel sorry for him? I say we leave him right here,” Bellara said.

“But I’ll die. The blight’s everywhere. What if the dragon comes back?” He panicked. “I understand what they do now. I won’t be tempted again! I swear!”

“Rook?” Harding asked.”

I sighed. “Let’s get him out of there.”

“What? This entire village is dead because of him.” Bellara argued.

“I know.”

“Then why spare him?”

“We don’t kill people. Not like this. We’re not murderers. We’re not like the gods. We are better than them,” I explained. “If we leave him to be a source of their power we’re no better than he is.”

“Thank you… I think,” he said.

“I didn’t ask for your gratitude,” I snapped.

“Then if I may offer some advice: steel yourself. I felt their power, the promises they made. It’s irresistible.”

“Then try harder next time. Don’t make me regret saving you,” I said firmly.

“Yes, of course. But you should be worried about the rest of the world. Or this will be our future.”

—---------------------------------

We made our way back to the Veil Jumper camp. We were speaking with them when an old friend of the Inquisition, Morrigan, made an appearance. She told us to find Solas’s ritual dagger and that the eluvian at the lighthouse should go anywhere there is an existing eluvian. Bellara offered to come with us to fix it.

I just wished Varric was here to give better advice. He was always stronger at speeches than I was. Doing this without him to guide me felt wrong.

Neve, Harding, and I made our way back to the ritual site. After a wild goose chase after a darkspawn that stole the dagger, and watching Harding get possessed by some kind of new strange dwarf magic—which doesn’t exist, mind you—I was ready for a nap.

We came back to the Lighthouse and talked about Harding’s new abilities. I encouraged her to explore them but be wary. It wasn’t like any magic I’d seen before, and dwarves didn’t have any connection to the Fade, so it was completely new territory.

I went up the stairs, seeing a new area branched next to the hall leading to the infirmary. I could hear Varric snoring from here. At least I knew he was still alive.

I headed down that hall, pushing the door open to see an aquarium of sorts. There was a bookshelf to the right and a wardrobe to the left. In the center of the room was a chaise lounge with a bookcase behind it.

I saw my pack sitting in front of that bookshelf. Neve or Harding must’ve brought my pack in here. It made sense, it was a better place to sleep than the infirmary. I suppose I could spare a few moments to unpack my things.

I pulled Varric’s shaving mirror out, placing it on the bookshelf behind where I would be sleeping. Varric and his life lessons. I asked him how we were supposed to stop Solas, and he gave me the mirror.

“Take a long hard look in it, kid. It’ll always show the face of a hero who can get it done,” he said.

I don’t know if I see a hero’s face, but it’s a face that has seen a lot. Got a few new scars. Some that show up in a mirror, some that don’t. But Varric believed in me then, and he believes in me now. I can do this.

I moved to the small armoire on the right side of the room, placing an elven scroll down. A peddler gave it to me after I saved his caravan from bandits. He said the scroll went back to even before Tevinter. Said that elves had a rich history, “even more than the rest of us.”

Too many humans look down on us, even though elves were here first. It was nice to have someone see how much our people have done. I just wish I could’ve been a part of it.

On the opposite side from the mirror, I put my broken chains. I helped a lot of Minrathous slaves escape to freedom the night I met Varric, including my mother. Freed only to be killed in the chaos. Another time Varric had shown up for me. I remembered his hand on my shoulder as I wept over her.

“Come on, kid. It’s time to go. I’m sorry.”

Then the magisters cracked down in retaliation, and the Shadow Dragons decided I was too much trouble to keep around. We could have taken a stand and dared the magisters to come after us. At least people are free because of what I did.

I sighed, brushing my fingers over the cold metal before going to sit in the chaise lounge. Carefully, I laid back, letting my eyes drift shut. I was wound tight despite my exhaustion. I don’t know how long it took me to actually fall asleep.

I woke in the Fade, Solas’s voice already penetrating my thoughts. “Back so soon. It must have been worse than I thought.”

“Hello, Dread Wolf.”

“Ah, but perhaps I am mistaken. You may be here to correct me, to tell me that my concerns were unfounded. I am, after all, remembered as the god of lies, treachery, and rebellion.”

Haunted, hopeless, hurting… a voice nagged at the back of my head. No, not nagged. Soothed. 

“So you’re gonna be insufferable about it. See, this is the reason nobody likes you,” I told him.

“I led a rebellion for centuries that culminated the creation of the Veil and the destruction of the elven empire.”

“Okay, this is among the reasons nobody likes you,” I corrected.

“My information was accurate. Now you realize that the danger is real.”

“I need to know what the gods are planning,” I said plainly.

“You are asking for knowledge no mortal in this world is privy to,” he replied. “If I am to share it with you, I need to know what makes you the right person to lead the fight against Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain.”

“Well, for starters, I’m the only one here,” I said, throwing my arms out and looking around the desolate prison. “And I stopped you, didn’t I?”

“You disrupted the ritual.”

“Yeah, I did. Even though I’m nowhere near as powerful as you. Even though I’m just a slave.”

His brow furrowed, and I saw him blink as the only hint of surprise. “You were a slave?”

“Yeah. Varric said you hated slavery. I suppose that’s one thing we can agree on.”

He only nodded. “Your plan is to tell me how powerful you aren’t?”

“I met Varric when he asked the Shadow Dragons for help with freeing an old friend from Venatori slavers. The Shadow Dragons had a safe plan that wasn’t going to work, and Varric wasn’t the only one with something to lose if we failed.”

“So you and Varric led an armed rebellion and dealt a devastating blow to the Venatori,” he finished for me.

“You did your research,” I said, looking him up and down.

“I would’ve been a fool not to. You and Varric were pursuing me for the better part of a year. I needed to learn who was hunting me.”

“Then you obviously also know that powerful opposition doesn’t frighten me. I find a way to get the job done, whatever it takes.”

“I suppose I was not so different when I started.”

“No,” a voice said, inches from me and lightyears away all at once. “You were not different. You are not different.” The voice of a friend.

“Cole.” Now, I did see the Dread Wolf’s surprise evident in his expression. “How did you…”

“You are trapped,” he said. “She is hopeless, haunted, hurting, just like before. Escaped one master just to be fighting another. You are not different,” Cole said, looking up at Solas. “Hello, Solas.”

“Hello Compassion,” Solas dipped his head in greeting. “It has been an age.”

“You left the Inquisition to free us, but it didn’t work. Instead you freed them. The Evanuris.”

“Someone got in my way,” Solas leveled a condescending glare at me from his high horse—or at least his slightly higher piece-of-floating-rock.

“People were dying. I heard their screams,” Cole said. “The Veil needs to stay.”

“Oookay, this is all fine and good, but what are you doing here, Cole?” I asked, turning to him. “I thought I’d seen the last of you when Dorian freed me?”

“I felt the Veil weaken, and I knew. I knew it was Solas behind it, I always knew, even when he didn’t want me to, even when he hid it from everyone else. I went back to that place where it’s still weakest, and I felt your despair. I followed it here.”

“The gods need two things to reclaim their dominance of the world,” Solas interrupted, clearly growing bored. “First, the blight. What exists in this world is a bare fragment of its power. The rest is imprisoned… until they release it.”

“What would they need to do to free the blight, and how do we stop them from doing it?” I asked.

“They will need to pierce the Veil to reach the blight’s prison. My lyrium dagger is one of the few artifacts capable of doing so.”

“We’ve already recovered it from the ritual site.”

“Excellent,” I could’ve sworn he almost looked proud, but I doubted the smug bastard was capable. “Then they will have to make their own. That will give you time. The second is followers. They have called themselves gods, and what is a god without worshipers to sing their praises?”

“I’m not gonna bend a knee to blighted murdering monsters just because their ears are pointed like mine. I don’t think many other elves are going to either.”

“Agreed. Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain care little for the elves. They will find worshipers among those hungry for power. Tyrants and bullies. The cruel and corrupt, who fear their own vulnerability and seize any chance to feel strong. If you hunt them, they will lead you to Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain.”

I laughed without humor. “You want me to pick fights with tyrants and bullies? Sounds fun.”

“I gave no orders. All I can offer are suggestions.”

“I’m on it. What else?”

“The Vi’Revas, the Lighthouse eluvian, can take you anywhere, if you master its secrets. Have you done so?”

“Not yet, but we’ve got one of the Veil Jumpers working on it. She’ll get it sorted, and we’ll see how it goes.”

“Yes. I suppose we will. And when you speak with Varric, please tell him that I… regret what happened.”

Cole put his hand on my arm, and the world spun for a moment before I opened my eyes. We were in a grove, the stars above us, trees towering around us.

“Woah.” I put a hand to my head. “Where are we?”

“The Fade.”

“Right…” I took a seat in the grass with a sigh.

Cole crouched down, fingers fidgeting with the blades of grass. “You feel heavy again. Like before.”

“Varric picked me up to help him, but I disrupted the ritual, Varric got hurt, and the gods escaped. That doesn’t much feel like helping.”

“Varric used to help me. He wanted me to understand things, I think.”

“I don’t know how to lead, Cole. I’m barely used to being in charge of my life.”

“You’re already leading,” he said simply. His head bowed, and he glanced back behind him, as though listening for something. “They need you, it’s time to wake up.”

I gasped sitting upright, my chest heaving and my palms sweaty. I hadn’t seen Cole in years. Not since I was a slave. Not since I was at my lowest in life. Shit…

I needed to talk to Varric. I wiped my hands on my pants, standing with a huff. Having Solas in my head might prove to be more hindrance than help if he wouldn’t let me sleep in peace.

I made my way out, rubbing out the kink in my neck, hoping he might be awake. If not, I would let at least one of us get some restful sleep.

I approached him, sitting on the end of the bed, legs crossed opposite where he was sitting up against a pillow.

“So Solas told the truth about the gods,” he said as I sat down.

“You heard? It’s bad, Varric,” I shook my head. “If you’d seen D’Meta’s Crossing…”

“The team needs to act fast… and it can’t do that with me leading from a bed,” he said. “You’ve gotta take point on this.”

My chest tightened. “I can’t do what you do. I’ve barely been holding it together in the short time you’ve been out.”

He shook his head. “You don’t need to do what I do. You just need to get it done. Rook, when I put this team together, what did I look for? A detective to find the Dread Wolf and a scout to get us the lay of the land. Exactly the people he’d expect me to recruit. Disciplined. Predictable. And then there’s you. Remember when we first met, kid?”

“Of course I do.”

“You risked your neck to bring down an entire slavery ring. Pretty much by yourself,” he grinned.

“I had help.”

“Sure. I got winded about five minutes in. You did most of the work. Ticked off a bunch of Minrathous big shots, but… You’ve got a knack, kid.”

I hugged my knees to my chest. “A knack for what? Almost dying?”

“Exactly. You’ve got a knack for finding a way through the wildest shit I’ve ever seen. With a plan that no one expects. You can do this,” he said with a softness in his eyes I’d only ever really seen when it was just us. The protective kind. “And don’t worry. I’ll still be here to talk if you need me.”

“There is something… D’Meta’s Crossing was awful. While we were there, we found one survivor—the mayor.”

“You took him back to the Veil Jumpers,” he said. Harding must’ve filled him in.

“Not everyone was happy about my decision…” I told him. “We’re just starting out and I’m already losing their trust.”

Varric sat up a little straighter. “The key to earning the team’s trust isn’t to only make decisions everyone agrees with. It’s showing the team that they can tell you whatever’s on their mind, even if they think you’re full of crap, and know you’ll listen. It’s showing them that you’re capable of making the hard decisions, even if they don’t agree.”

“When I took over at the ritual site, I had to make a call on who came with me to knock over that statue. It was the first decision I made leading this team, and Harding got hurt because of it.”

“You made a decision with the best information you had. Sometimes you do that, and people end up hurt. Or worse,” he said simply.

“What would you have done?” I asked.

“What would I have done? Probably gotten myself killed and failed to stop the ritual if you hadn’t stepped in,” he laughed. “A good leader isn’t someone who never makes mistakes: It’s someone who admits when they make one. That’s how you earn their trust.”

“Did Neve tell you about me talking to Solas in the Fade?” I asked.

“I had some good arguments with Chuckles back in the day. I can’t imagine being stuck with him in my head. But how are you feeling about it?” He asked.

“Your old friend is kind of an asshole, Varric.”

He chuckled. “I’d love to be a fly on the wall while the two of you get into it. Solas fought a rebellion against Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain. He didn’t want to be a god. But he’s also a lot older and more powerful than any of us. He looks at us like we’re toddlers.”

“So how do I deal with him?”

“Act like you’re as smart as he is, and he’ll be insufferable. Show him you respect his age and experience, and he’ll remind you he’s just a man. Honestly, pick whichever of those pisses you off less,” he grinned.

“He also asked me to tell you that he regrets what happened. Hurting you, I mean,” I told him, letting my knees fall back to either side.

“Chuckles is sentimental. He could burn the world down, and the thing that would make him cry is a single flower with blackened petals.”

“He seems the type. Cole visited me. I know last time I told you about him you said he was with the Inquisition. He came to my dream with Solas too, and he looked almost… regretful, if you could even call it that.”

“Well, shit. How’s he doing? What was he doing?” Varric asked, shifting slightly.

“Apparently, he sensed my despair when he was checking out the ritual site because of how thin the Veil is there. He followed it back to me.” I sighed, standing and brushing myself off, whatever invisible dust there was. “I’ll let you rest.”

“You’re gonna be fine, Rook. Hey, one last thing before you go,” he said. “I’ve been racking my brain thinking of contacts who might help us with these gods.”

“You got any ideas?” 

“Nothing. But being a leader isn’t about having all the answers yourself: It’s about knowing who does. Neve has connections to a whole world that Harding and I barely know. A world you barely got the chance to learn. Might be worth talking to her.”

“Will do. Thanks, Varric,” I offered him a smile. One of the few I was sure I would be able to give in the coming days.

“Any time, kid.”

I closed the door behind me so he could rest as I made my way out to Neve’s floating office. She told me we needed to hire the Antivan Crows, but specifically their most feared mage killer. The Demon of Vyrantium. I had heard of his work, and most of us in the wards and servants’ quarters revered his assassinations of our masters. They had given us plenty of reasons to side with the trained killer over them.

Neve said she set up a meeting with their bosses. Next, she said that we needed to take a trip back home. The Shadow Dragons of course made sense to take out the gods in the capital city of Tevinter where blood magic was strongest. We had done so much work against it and the Venatori, but I was a bit worried about seeing them again after the stunt I pulled. We trained to be the best at countering evil magic, it was time we proved it. Hopefully together this time and not just me and Varric.

The Antivan Crows seemed our best bet to start off. I wasn’t ready to go back to Minrathous yet. Not after everything.

Neve and I made our way down to the Vi’Revas, the eluvian, where Bellara was working. We watched her tinker with it for a moment before it lit up, showing the path to what Morrigan called The Crossroads. A spirit appeared beside it in tattered blue robes. Though I tensed instinctively, I felt nothing malicious from it.

“The wolf’s fang. You carry it now. Old paths. A new journey. Through there. I will wait,” he gestured to the eluvian before fading away.

When we entered, the spirit introduced itself as the caretaker who goes where they are needed. The Crossroads was a beautiful place in the fade. Paths branched out, the caretaker guiding us in a levitating boat to each island of Eluvians. This place was slowly becoming tainted, though. I could feel the blood magic and blight like invisible eyes or a forgotten touch. It caused the hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end.

We made it to the eluvian leading to Treviso after killing some Venatori trying to take over the crossroads. Neve and I glanced at each other before stepping through. Treviso… One of the finest cities in Antiva, or so I’d been told. It was now under occupation by the Antaam. Hopefully our contact would still be able to meet us.

Neve and I made our way to the coordinates given to us, seeing a petit woman leaning against the railing of the bridge. She looked over as we approached.

“Welcome to Antiva. You must be Rook. Follow me,” she said, running off, leaving me to follow in her wake.

“And you’re Andarateia Cantori. Of the Crows?” I asked.

“Teia, please. Come, my associate Viago is gathering the others.”

We ran through the streets of Treviso, through the market and up the lattice on the side of a building. From there, we ziplined to a casino, the headquarters of the Crows.

“Welcome to the Cantori Diamond,” Teia said as we went up the stairs to the right.

As soon as I entered, I felt as though I was going to be interrogated, stripped of my valuables and tossed to the streets, if the expression of the woman eyeing me and the cane in her hand were anything to say for it.

Teia took up her spot on the left, a man with a very well groomed mustache to the right of her, followed by the older woman in the throne, and on her other side a younger man who looked way too charming for anyone’s good.

The man next to Teia spoke. “You’re the client?”

“This is Rook,” Teia said with a smile. “Did you want a drink? I promise not to let Viago near it.” It struck me how pretty she was. And the man next to her.

“Viago de Riva. Fifth Talon,” he introduced. “And this is Caterina Dellamorte. First Talon of the Crows.” He gestured to the woman in the throne.

“An honor. And you are?” I asked, glancing at the man beside her.

“Illario Dellamorte. Her grandson. What brings you here?” He asked.

“Right,” I took a breath. “My target is a pair of elven gods—or that’s what they call themselves. They’re ancient blighted mages. My detective says you have a man who brought blood mages and Venatori to their knees.”

“Lucanis,” Caterina said. “My grandson. They called him “the Demon of Vyrantium.” He was the one who did those jobs.”

“Sounds like there’s more to it,” I said carefully, tilting my head.

“Lucanis Dellamorte is dead. He was killed a year ago, now,” Viago said solemnly.

“What I say doesn’t leave this room,” Caterina said slowly. “The body our people brought back was not my grandson. It was dressed in his clothing, but it had been altered with blood magic to have his face.”

“My cousin is still alive?” Illario questioned. “And you didn’t think to tell me?” Something was off about Illario. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but I knew that I would rather have dealings with Teia and Viago more than him in the future if we had any at all.

“His ship was attacked,” Viago interrupted my thoughts. “We knew someone sold him out… so you kept your suspicions to yourself.”

“But you’ve brought it up now. Why?” I asked, looking back to the First Talon.

“I’ve had eyes on the Venatori ever since they took my grandson from me. They were hunting your Dread Wolf. And what you did to his ritual threw them into disarray. They made mistakes. And now I have a location. The Ossuary. Where the Demon of Vyrantium is kept. Find this Ossuary. Free Lucanis. You’ll have your god-killer. And I’ll have my grandson.”

Something about the way she presented him twisted my gut. Like that was all he was, a weapon to be used and discarded. Even not having met him, the thought didn’t sit right with me. I knew what it was like to be seen only for what you could do for other people, and that was not a feeling I wanted for anyone else.

I wondered though, how a mage killer captured by the Venatori would feel about two Tevinter mages freeing him.

Illario led us to our lift to the Ossuary. I was almost relieved when he didn’t get in the boat with us. Surprisingly, he was the only Crow I had met so far that had major stab-you-in-the-back vibes.

We were boated out to the middle of the sea, the Crow mage with us parting the waters below us to grant us passage to the underwater prison. When we got there, bodies littered the sand, bloodstains running red. We passed over two dozen bodies as we made our way through the prison.

It seemed to have been some ancient elven ruins before being repurposed. It was a wonder it still functioned. If the wards on this place ever broke…

I didn’t want to think about what could’ve happened when the gods got released. I was more relieved I didn’t have to be the one fending off all the guards. We came to a Venatori barrier with three crystals connected to it that I beamed fire at before the barrier fell. A large corridor led down a set of stairs where a group of Venatori gathered.

“We don’t have to fight. We’re just here for Lucanis Dellamorte.” The mage in the center slammed his staff into the ground, the wisps of red blood magic gathering around its tip. “Get ready,” I said to Neve, who braced for a fight.

“Razikale, Dragon of Mystery. Lusacan, Dragon of Night. Hear your faithful call—”

A man in blue leathers flipped down from seemingly out of thin air, black and purple glowing wings sprouted from his back as he fell. He grappled the mage, pulling him as he spun so that the Venatori next to him stabbed straight through his comrade’s gut. He ducked as another sword came at him, kicking the Venatori in the gut. The cultist flew backward, impaling on one of the ice spikes surrounding us.

The man sprinted at the other two, a dagger in one hand and a rapier in the other. In a flash that was barely visible, he spun, slitting both of their throats before turning and putting his sword through the final cultist’s back.

He stood with his back turned to us, chest heaving. My eyes were wide. “I’m guessing you’re the reason we’re here,” I said carefully.

His wings flapped and dissipated as he turned back toward us. “Who are you? Who sent you?” He asked, the thick accent of Antiva coming through in his voice.

Something about his presence was calm, assured, even though he just murdered six people before my eyes. It drew me in, and I wasn’t sure I would have the strength to back out.

“My name’s Rook. Caterina sent me.”

“Caterina…” He looked at the ground. “But… you’re not a Crow.” He put his hands on his hips.

“I’m breaking you out of here,” I told him. “But… you’re not just you. Care to introduce me to your friend?”

“Rook. He’s possessed by a demon,” Neve said carefully.

“It’s complicated,” Lucanis said with a slight shrug.

“Caterina promised us a mage killer if we could get you out of here,” I told him.

“I can still work,” he assured me.

“Good,” I smiled. “Cause I’m pretty sure more Venatori are on their way. We have to get moving.”

“They have a vial of my blood. They can use it to control me. I cannot leave it in their hands. And… I had a contract when I was captured. One of my targets is here. Calivan. Crows don’t break contracts,” Lucanis said.

“All right, we’ll help. But in return, I need help killing some things,” I told him.

“I’ll owe you,” he said slowly.

“I’m sure we’ll owe each other before this is all over. Let’s go.”

We made our way back through the prison, coming to a huge gap that none of us would be able to jump across.

“What are you—Fine. He says he can help. There is something in the Fade close enough to grab onto.”

I watched Lucanis’s wings come out, energy flowing from his hands and a large piece of floating cobblestone came into being. “All of that… came from the Fade?”

“I’m as surprised as you,” Lucanis said honestly.

Eventually, we came to a room protected by at least six of the Venatori’s crystals powering the barrier. Behind it, was a massive garnished vial of blood. “Yeah, they can’t do anything subtle, can they?” I asked, aiming a beam of flames at it, making it explode on impact.

Through a close-by archway, there was a lift. We took it and it led to an audience chamber, a mage standing in the middle of it.

As we approached, Calivan did as all villains do, and started giving a long-winded speech. Something something, Zara said it would be ironic, he’s already the Demon of Vyrantium, now it’s just more literal. Lucanis smirked at me, glancing sidelong as Calivan went on his tangent, and I found myself smiling back. Something something she always leaves him to clean up the mess.

Maybe he should’ve picked someone better to follow.

I put my hands together, feeling the energy build between them as I loosed a death ray of fire and lightning right at his face. That’ll shut him up, surely.

Lucanis blinked at me as Calivan fell to his knees. “Sorry,” I said impulsively. “I know that was your contract. He was getting on my nerves.”

“Don’t be. Imagine how I feel,” Lucanis said, the corners of his lips twitching up. He spat on Calivan’s body. “The Crows send their regards.”

I glanced down at the ashen body, and when I looked up again I saw a purple version of Lucanis standing right beside him, and I blinked.

“The contract is done,” Lucanis said.

“Smells like blood. Ashes. Not done. Not yet,” The purple man said. From what I was sensing, this was his demon. Though he was closer to a spirit, not quite monstrous yet. I opted to ignore him for now. Not drawing attention to it was likely safer at least for the moment.

Lucanis just stared at him blankly. “Lucanis? Are you alright?” I asked.

“Careful, they know. We’re not right.”

“You cannot see him. I wondered,” he said, putting his hands on his hips.

“We clearly have things to discuss. Somewhere else,” I told him.

“Agreed. I think… it’s time I got some air.”

—--------------------------------------------

Back at the Cantori Diamond we found Teia and Viago looking at Illario who was leaned over against the table, breathing heavily. The two of them turned around and Teia’s face went whiter than I thought possible.

“Maker…” She said.

“Lucanis?” Viago’s eyes were wide.

Lucanis looked around at them. “What happened here?” He questioned.

Illario’s fist hit the table, and I flinched instinctively. “A message,” he snarled. “From Zara Renata. I can’t believe it. You’re home.” Illario put a hand on Lucanis’s shoulder.

“Zara… Her people got this close?” Lucanis asked.

“The woman who runs the prison?” I guessed.

“The Venatori witch who captured me,” he answered.

“Revenge for the breakout, maybe,” I said.

“Where’s Caterina?” Lucanis asked, eyes darting around at the three of them frantically.

“She’s…” Teia’s voice broke, and her head bowed with an impossible weight on her shoulders.

Viago came up behind her, hands on her shoulders comfortingly. “The Venatori got her in the confusion.”

“I got one of you back, only to lose the other,” Illario said, sounding devastated. I wanted to feel bad for him, but something still felt off.

“Lucanis…” I said softly. “I’m so sorry.” I didn’t know what else to say.

“I need to work,” he said, shifting on his feet.

“Are you sure?” Teia asked. “You should take some time.”

“I don’t need time—I need a target,” he said darkly.

“You just got here, and already you want to leave again?” Illario questioned. How he didn’t understand was beyond me.

“Caterina gave me a contract. I’m not breaking the last deal she ever made. And I owe Rook. Once that’s done… I’ll come home,” he told them.

“I’ll return him in one piece,” I promised.

“Thank you,” Illario smiled at me. “Cousin. When you find Zara, I want—I need—to be there.”

Viago shook his head. “We’re under attack. Antaam on one side and now Venatori on the other? Forget revenge, we need you—”

“No, Viago,” Teia interrupted. “Zara came for us here. In my house. She took Caterina from my house. You find her and cut her heart out, Lucanis. Vi and I will hold down the fort.”

“I’ll give her your regards, Teia,” Lucanis said.

“For Caterina,” she looked around at all of us.

—--------------------------------------

“They’re the same thing. Mostly. Well, kind of,” Bellara said as I walked in.

“Except one will manipulate you. Or kill you. Or both,” Neve replied.

“But how do you get rid of them?” Lucanis leaned against the fireplace, one hand braced against it, the other on his hip.

“What’s everyone talking about?” I asked.

“Spite,” Lucanis looked back over his shoulder at me.

“The demon in Lucanis,” Neve said. “When a person gets possessed—the demon usually takes control.”

“And they turn into a monster. The spirit just… molds them. However they want,” Bellara added.

“I’ve heard of abominations being cured by killing the demon in the Fade. That’s not a sure bet, though,” Neve thought.

“Well, there’s one way. But it’s well… we’d have to, um…”

“You’d have to kill me,” Lucanis finished.

“That can’t be the only solution. Can’t we… reason with Spite, maybe? Persuade him to leave?” I asked.

“Talk doesn’t work on Spite,” Lucanis said.

“She won’t hurt you. How sweet,” Spite crooned, the ghost of his form next to me. He vanished and appeared in front of Lucanis. “I want to talk to her!” Lucanis kept his gaze on me, no doubt seeing my eyes track the demon.

“Before we do, well, that. Let’s think this through some more. There has to be a solution,” Bellara said. I braced my hands against their chairs, leaning over them slightly.

“I have people in Minrathous I can ask, but I wouldn’t get my hopes up,” Neve said.

“All right. So, what’s next?” I asked.

“Let me talk to them! I want. To talk. To Rook!” Spite swung, punching Lucanis in the nose. Blood spattered, and Lucanis winced, his hand going to his nose.

Bellara and Neve stood. “Lucanis!” Bellara cried.

“No, it’s fine. I’m fine,” he said, putting his arm out.

“He’s done this before? Enough that you just… shrug it off?” I questioned, leveling a glare at the aspect of Spite next to him.

“He’d do this in the Ossuary. The Fade does whatever a spirit wants. Real walls and chains, not so much. Just… give me a minute. He’ll get bored once everyone leaves.”

I leveled him with a stare that said I would absolutely not be leaving even as Bellara and Neve got up and left. Neve shot me a glance that said ‘be careful’, but I just nodded to her.

He put his hand back up against the fireplace and stared into the flames as I walked around the table, sliding up to sit on the edge of it.

“I thought you couldn’t see him. At the Ossuary…”

“I didn’t want him to know I could see him. That was the last thing we needed there,” I told him.

“You can hear him too?” He asked, looking back at me with furrowed brows.

“When I can see him or when he’s showing through you, yes,” I answered honestly.

“But the others, they can’t. Why is that?” He asked, looking at me curiously, if not a bit suspiciously.

I shrugged. “I’ve always had a connection to the Fade. In worse times I was in such turmoil a spirit of Compassion appeared in my dreams or pulled me out of reality if things got bad. And now that connection is stronger than ever. Some of my blood is circulating around in the Fade from when we interrupted Solas’s ritual. That’s how he visits me in my sleep.”

“I am sorry,” he said. “I can’t stand him, I didn’t want him to be a problem for you too.” I just shook my head. “I would kill for a decent cup of coffee right now.”

“Have you? For coffee, I mean,” I grinned.

I saw the corner of his lip twitch up. “Not today. You’ve got questions. You might as well ask them.”

I chewed on the inside of my cheek, watching him. “You’re the best mage killer in the Antivan Crows. So how’d the Venatori catch you?”

“Someone set me up,” he said simply. “I had a contract for Calivan. In the Ossuary. I took a ship from Treviso to Minrathous. They were waiting for me. Knew which ship and when it would arrive. I don’t know how they convinced the Crows I was dead, but I woke up in the Ossuary with Zara gloating about it.”

“Blood magic.” I could tell him that at least. One thing I had the answer to. “Caterina said they had dressed the body in your clothes and altered it with blood magic to look like your face too. I can’t even imagine… I know she… “volunteered” you to work with us. Are you okay with that?” I asked sincerely.

“When the First Talon of the Crows gives you a job, you do it. Especially if she’s your grandmother. But, there’s plenty of reason for me to work with you beyond that, Rook,” he said.

“Such as?” I tilted my head, kicking my feet under the table.

“I owe you a debt, for one. And after a year in that hole, maybe I’m looking forward to stabbing a god or two in the back,” he answered.

“Two!” Spite hissed.

“The Crossroads can be dicey, but the Lighthouse is safe. Oh, and if you see a spirit around called the Caretaker, they’re friendly,” I smiled.

“After the Ossuary, that will be a pleasant change,” he said with a grin. After a moment’s silence, he put his hands on his hips. “You haven’t asked anything about Spite.”

“Based on what I’ve seen, I’d say he picked the right name.”

“He’s stronger when I sleep. So… I try not to do it much. No one was in the Ossuary by choice. Not even the demons. We both did what we had to, to get out of there,” he told me.

“I admire you,” I told him. “What you’ve been through would break most people.”

“I would not give Zara the satisfaction,” he smirked.

“I understand. Still, you must be a very courageous man,” I smiled.

“A very stubborn one, perhaps. But, that’s… kind of you to say. Leave Spite to me. If he’s trapped in this world, he has a good reason to fight for it. For now, I must honor our contract. Gods, magic, politics…” he hummed, the rumble in his chest trying to drag me toward him. “Things are going to get very bloody.”

I gave him one last smile as he turned back toward the fire. “If you’re stubborn, I’d say Zara picked the right demon. If I remember right, Spite is a demon of Determination,” I smirked, looking back at him.

His brows were raised. “Perhaps it was the only thing she got right. She was nothing if not fond of irony.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Please give me your thoughts on this. I missed Cole and he was so important to me in Inquisition I wanted him to have a role in this story too, however minor. Also the back and forth with Solas gets me every time XD

Let me know if you want to be on a tag list! <3

Have a good day lovelies!

[doobnnoob-tf2]

The mercs on a road trip to who knows where. What are they each doing?

🧌

we're taking this vehicle-by-vehicle, so buckle up

ENGINEER'S TRUCK

Driver: Engineer

Passengers: Soldier, Demoman

Engineer insists he be taking the lead, and asks Demoman to man the map for him. he marked the path in pencil and didn't realize how many times both Demoman and Soldier would erase parts of it and redraw the line to take detours at first. he catches on by the third time they take an exit that made no sense at all and pulls over to demand he look at the map. this also started an argument between him and Sniper who wanted to just take the lead because he didn't need a map

Demoman sits in the passenger's seat, with the map. he mostly watches the world go by, occasionally attempting to reach over and turn the radio on, but would get his hand smacked because Engineer didn't want it on while he's trying to concentrate on the road. he and Soldier end up playing road games like I Spy, or their personal favorite: Punch Buggy. much to Engineer's dismay

Soldier takes the middle seat that is revealed when the center console is flipped up. he was told not to sit there but he did anyway. the reason being is he can't not shove his arm in front of Engineer's face to point out something on the side of the road. he also has snacks galore and there are crumbs everywhere that he says he'll clean out on their next stop but he doesn't. instead he runs inside the gas station to go get more and leaves Engineer to do it

MEDIC'S (stolen) VAN

Driver: Heavy

Passengers: Pyro, Medic

Heavy is the only choice for driver, not that he minds. Pyro can't drive, and no matter what Medic tries to say he legally is not allowed to drive. whether or not he stole the vehicle. he is a very serious driver and tends to dislike distractions of any kind, which is why he's glad there is no radio in the van. he follows behind Engineer, staying as close as he can to avoid losing sight of him without being too close

Medic reluctantly sits in the only passenger seat. he isn't happy about it and pouts for a good while at the beginning of the drive, but eventually he stops caring. he hates the silence and wants to talk, and after several attempts he finally annoys Heavy enough to get him to talk just so he'll stop poking at his face to get his attention. he relaxes more as Heavy starts to relax and chat with him, the two mostly trying to figure out where they hell they're even going since Engineer planned the whole trip and wouldn't tell anyone

Pyro stole Medic's office chair and sat it in the back of the van without anyone noticing. they duct taped themself to it and unlocked the rolling wheels do they could sit and roll around during the whole drive. it's during one of the gas stops that Heavy and Medic open the back and find out when they're trying to ask them if they want a snack. they have to be cut free from the tape, and someone helps them find a belt to use instead that'll be easier for them to get themself free from during stops

SNIPER'S CAMPERVAN

Driver: Sniper

Passengers: Scout, Spy

Sniper has one rule: driver controls the radio. he rolls the windows all the way down and blasts metal music as loud as he can during the whole drive. much to the annoyance of everyone around them, not that he cares. he sings along to it or gripes about how he could have made the drive so much more interesting than long stretches of boring highway and still got them there in good time. though after some time, the other two vehicles they're with notices the music has faded away, and Sniper's taken the other two on a different road trip. Spy's suggestion after Scout noticed some kind of oddities road sign

Spy sits on the other end of the bench in the cab of the camper, mostly reading a book and drumming his fingers along to the music on the outside of the door he's leaned against. however, when he gets tired of that, he puts the book away and starts egging Sniper on to just speed past everyone since they're the only three vehicles on the road. it takes a couple minutes of back and forth before he finally talks him into disobeying the rules of the road and pissing off Engineer as he zooms past loudly several times, taking over the radio when Engineer calls it to speak only in French before changing the frequency

Scout loves taking road trips with Sniper and Spy, always sitting in the middle of the bench. he knows it always starts with Sniper driving safe and eventually relenting to Spy's insistence that he could speed up. he loves the adrenaline rush of hearing the engine roar and the loud music. it's one of the few times he's quiet because he enjoys the banter between the two he's sitting in between when they both finally decide to let loose. especially when Spy starts getting into the music as well

[tzilatza]

NATLA Review - spoilers

Woke up today still feeling annoyed after finished the Netflix ATLA remake last night, and I think I've figured out the core reason.

It's the fact that: If they had held truer to the original source material, we could have had a truly great show. I disagree with those calling it a complete disaster. The acting was good, great in some cases. The effects were very well done, the bending looked about as good as it can in a live action media. The scenery was lovely.

But what happened in the writer's room?! The way they just reveal all the back stories up front EVERY TIME is honestly insulting to the audience. It's like they're so terrified that smartphone culture has made the public so accustomed to instant gratification that they have no faith we will stick around and keep watching if they make us wait for anything.

They're also clearly terrified of complexity. One of my biggest gripes with this remake is Jet's story. They completely took out his plans to murder a whole town of innocents in order to get a few enemy soldiers. Now, Jet isn't my favorite character, but his story is so important. Because it is real. The world is full of people who have been so brought down by injustice that they lose their sense of right and wrong, and we need to see that on screen. If Jet is too complex for them, how will they handle Ba Sing Se in the second season.

This goes along the same lines as removing Sokka's sexist moments. They felt they had to do it to make him more 'likable.' Yet the writers themselves went full sexist on Katara's character. They've taken out so much of her spark, her righteous and justified anger, and they've done it because even in 2024, people expect women to be more passive to be palatable. Enough people have already commented on them removing Aang's choice to run away. Heaven forbid the main character not be an absolute paragon. Did y'all notice that they even made Hahn likable? Hahn?! What reason do you have for making Hahn likable Netflix?! His role in the narrative is to be an example of toxic masculinity that is clearly the bad choice compared to Sokka who has learned and grown out of his own.

Don't even get me started with what they're doing with the fire nation family, I'm not ready to tackle that. In general, I have no problem with Azula getting a little more backstory and humanizing, but why season 1? Throwing in all these extra scenes just sacrifices screen-time where they could've actually fleshed out the real season one plots instead of rushing through things at breakneck pace. (ex: Aang escaping Zuko's ship in about 2 minutes flat)

At the end of the day, the scenes I most enjoyed were those that held true to the original like the Blue Spirit sequences. They could've easily done more of this, held onto the important plot points and even more important character complexity, while maturing it for an adult audience. I'm not disagreeing with every change they made. Go ahead and take out the silly Nickelodeon gags, add cussing and more realistic violence to get your mainstream viewers. Go ahead. They could've easily made a darker more mature version of the show and still held onto all the old fans in my opinion. But claiming that you're making a 'more mature' version and then removing the complexity and subtlety because they didn't think viewers could handle it...

What makes me most sad is that there are a lot of people who will experience ATLA for the first time through this show. There are a lot of adults who are not willing to watch original ATLA because they refuse to acknowledge an animated series can be anything other than a kid's show. Those people will watch this and think it's the real deal, and that just makes me sad.

If you've read this far, a very sincere thank you for listening to my rant. If you're an OG fan who enjoyed it, I have no problem with you. It was a fun watch, I was just hoping for more. If you are a new viewer who has never seen ATLA before, I sincerely want to hear your opinions. Is it a great show to someone who isn't holding it against the context of the original? And do you plan to watch the original now?

[assignmentimprobable]

Per my last gobbledygook infused post about the excessive use of Stryker’s influence in the X-Men movies, I’ve come with my promised rant. This time taking a deep-dive into some of the more consequential changes to Fox X-Men’s storytelling choices when making movies based on different comics, specifically how they chose to adapt Weapon X in Origins, and all my gripes. 

Disclaimer: (1) I know that the Origins movie takes much of its creative liberties based on Wolverine Origins; (2) I know that killing your darlings is necessary when adapting books to the big screen, but there’s the difference between a few darlings and cutting the entire thrust of the story. These are two completely different stories with different audiences, and I’m pontificating informally about a bunch of nothing at the end of the day for my own fun. 

That said! Join me for the biggest bitch session about how the movies took on the ‘ohh how did Logan become The Wolverine” angle. This has been an essay for 4 years in the making so. Prepare yourselves accordingly. 

Trigger warnings for: Graphic body horror with images, non-consensual nudity, torture, experimentation, sexual assault discussion (not discussed in depth, but touched on in a quote) and blood. 

More under the cut

To preface… I don’t consider myself even a passable comic fan. I floated by on X-Men Evolution and the Fox films for my X-Men knowledge until I was an adult. I’ve got some measure of Lore knowledge, but at the end of the day I’m a filthy casual, so jot THAT down. Don’t expect me to know shit about Romulus’s involvement. So I, a fool, went into Weapon X (1991) expecting what I saw in X-Men Origins back in (checks calendar) 2009. 

What I find most interesting is that movie adaptations of Weapon X tend to give a badass tilt to what happened, when what actually happened was far from it. 

Starting with the first gripe: In X-Men Origins, we see that Logan volunteered for the Weapon X program as a means to get strong enough to beat Sabertooth for killing Silver Fox (Here, Kayla SilverFox. Which. :U ), his girlfriend. It was about single-minded vengeance. In the comic, Logan didn’t have a choice. They caught him while he was drunk, walking out of a bar and presumably on his way back to wherever he was staying. 

What happens next is a series of episodes and observations about the state of his body, his nature, and his use as a weapon. Furthermore, it’s not an action comic.

It’s a horror story.

The core changes for the big screen can be boiled down into one paradigm shift: Logan is an active character moving the story along instead of a passive one in Origins. And really, that’s the problem, because a key element to the whole premise has to do with his role in the events that made him who he is. Weapon X is not a story about Wolverine, the characters never actually refer to him by his title, only by first name and project designation “Experiment X”. It’d be more accurate to say that Weapon X is a story that revolves around things that happen to Logan. More precisely: The things that people do TO him. At its core, the story is about the dehumanization that accompanies having your bodily autonomy meddled with. 

Origins plays with this a little bit, having Stryker make the call for Logan’s memories to be wiped so that he can be used as a weapon. Which brings us back to the main problem: Not only does it undermine the themes of the story for Logan to be recontextualized as a completely willing participant- but introducing that angle entirely just feels totally flavorless, as opposed to the government having pulled his personnel file and tagged him as precisely the kind of volatile presence that no one would miss. Systems do that all the time, marking people as ‘other’ and making a judgment call on their worth. 

I think it would’ve been so much more interesting if the movies played with the ambiguity of Wolverine’s participation in the experiment. Because in an X2 scene, when Logan says “you cut me open, you took my life.”, Stryker responds “you make it sound as if I stole something from you. as I recall it was you who volunteered for the procedure.” and everything comes into question. On one hand, it begs the question: Who WAS Logan before he lost his memory? Was he the sort of person to grasp destructive power for power’s sake? On the other, It’s a classic abuser tactic on Stryker’s part, shifting the blame onto the victim and putting forth the idea that they wanted it, and so that what took place was completely fine. It’s a sickening, spineless rationalization. Logan can easily be seen as an abuse victim being manipulated by the abuser. 

Which is actually a good segue to my next point— the abuse in the comic. It’s graphic and uncomfortable. There is a crazy amount of nudity in this story (warning: pictured below). Not the fun kind either, there’s enough of it to make you feel kinda icky about what’s going on. 

Logan spends virtually all of the story naked and a good amount of it bound in dehumanizing ways. The method feels weirdly evocative of bondage, muscles flexing and body bare, the form twisted into forced submission. It isn't his choice to be unclothed, and so it feels like you’re not to see him like this. There’s a layer of wrongness to it that you can’t quite shake as a reader.

According to the center for victims of torture: “Forced nakedness creates a power differential, stripping the victims of their identity, inducing immediate shame and creating an environment where the threat of sexual and physical assault is always present.” Nearly all of the elements are met in the story. Logan is drugged, stripped, bound, and subjected to multiple forms of violence. He has hot coffee poured onto his unconscious naked body for no other reason than a doctor’s bad mood. His abuse is justified by his status as a mutant, being told “This infernal thing is what [he] has always been” while left naked and unconscious in a pile of glass shards. The Doctors and staff have all the power, and he himself has none. 

At every corner of doubt expressed by Carol Hines the lab tech or Dr. Cornelius the co-project lead, there’s someone ready to express that his identity is inconsequential. That person is typically the lead scientist, Dr. Thornton- or “The Professor”. He’s the menacing bald guy you see in a bunch of different cartoon adaptations of the Weapon X story.  

(^ This guy. Like to slap his bald head. Reblog to stab it.)

Autonomy is defined by the Merriam Webster dictionary as “ self-directing freedom and especially moral independence.” It is the capacity to make an informed, uncoerced decision. Here, where Logan is constantly in and out of reality due to the drugs and conditioning equipment, there is no autonomy. Logan is incapacitated, has no information on what is happening to him, and is being fed scenarios that he did not give his permission to be in.The nakedness is part and parcel of what the Weapon X project is trying to do: They are trying to tear Logan away from his identity and personhood. Whether Logan breaks from the programming or not, he is treated as a tertiary consideration in all aspects. Humiliation is necessary to the conditioning. And I feel the need to clarify that it IS humiliation, defined as “to reduc[ing] (someone) to a lower position in one's own eyes or others' eyes.” The doctors must bring Logan down under their heel as a monster to tame, their agenda can’t survive without the subjugation element. The program wants to assume dominion over his body, mind, and by extension his abilities. 

Addressing the vaguely sexual tilt to the nudity: I’d wager that the objectification stands to poise him in the eyes of the scientists and lab staff. Something to observe, a passive subject to be engaged with at their leisure. It’s a framing device. Logan is effectively robbed of his voice for much of the story, speaking in broken fragments and more often than not expressing how much pain he’s in. The underpinnings of the nudity are grounded in asserting control over Logan’s form, the Professor at multiple points talks about how this experiment and awakening the animal inside Logan is the latter’s destiny. He has decided that it’s this man’s highest calling because of who he is, a mutant and one of the troubled undesirables of society. Mentally ill, violent, drunk. The purpose of Experiment X is to mold Logan into a mindless beast, because that’s what they think he is, the rest is to strip him of any pretense or illusions about what he thinks he is. It’s an oppressive environment that reinforces its power dynamics through violence on the body and mind. 

Next gripe: That really satisfying scene in Origins where Logan breaks free from the adamantium tank and shrugs off the bullet Agent Zero put in his head. It has all the trademarks of cool. The shredded figure of a big dick legend, the angry snarling, the bodies flying and claws slashing. It’s about intention! We are meant to see this man as effectively invincible and totally badass. It’s a short stint of medical malpractice that ultimately brings us the character we look up to and admire. It doesn’t hurt that he’s got a lovely figure and a handsome face either. It’s all pure, bloodless action. The scene on a tonal level doesn’t scratch the surface of how invasive or horrible the experiment was, nor do any of movies seem to capture how fucking GROSS! The closest we get is the sequence in X2 where Logan runs down the hallway naked, hurting, and horrified at what’s been done to him. And to Hugh Jackman’s credit, this brief and bloody snatch of memory leaves people unsettled, asking “What happened here?” This is the first time Logan’s seeing the claws, he doesn’t know what we know about their use now, only that it HURTS and he has to get AWAY. That’s creative storytelling within the limitations of a PG-13 rating.

Meanwhile, with Barry Windsor-Smith…

Having re-read the story a few times for the sake of this essay: I can see on some level why a major studio wouldn’t tackle this in full-fidelity. It’s not marketable in a “Middle of the road, grandparents and little kids can see this movie” way. It’s also fair to say that it’s hard to pivot from, because his involvement doesn’t end with the adamantium bonding. We still have several years of false memory implants, missions with Team X after the successful conditioning, and then getting to a solid stopping point before the X-Men recruits Wolverine. Marketing heads and studio executives don’t want to grapple with a complex trauma narrative and Wolverine being brutalized in deeply un-fun ways nonstop, no matter how compelling it would be to bring to life. 

However, it’s a total missed opportunity that in shifting the perspective of the story to Logan as its driving force that the movie didn’t try to get at the juicier quirks of his mental state under the strain. Since you know, it’s the subject of at least 3 PTSD nightmare sequences in the X-Men films where Logan is at the forefront. Experiencing such immense psychological trauma impairs the ability of a victim to cope because of the deficiencies in endorphin activity following a traumatic experience. Volpicelli J, Balaraman G, Hahn J, Wallace H, Bux D. The role of uncontrollable trauma in the development of PTSD and alcohol addiction. Alcohol Res Health. 1999;23(4):256-62.  Alcohol is a common method of compensating for the endorphin withdrawal by increasing endorphin activity, avoiding both the withdrawal, and also impairing the parts of the brain that recall memory. Ibid. Considering the detailed abuse in previous paragraphs, it’s no shit that Logan is an alcoholic. The trauma conga line of Wolverine’s history aside, an extended trauma event such as the one in Weapon X alone warrants the kind of hyper-awareness, aggressive outbursts, and self-destructive behaviors that the character is known for. The scene in X-Men 2000 where Logan attacks Jean while she’s putting the IV in his arm makes complete sense, having the context of panels like these behind it.

Is there something to be said here about depictions of masculinity that go out of their way to avoid showing vulnerability? I’d be willing to say so, especially based on the commentary around what the filmmakers wanted for the Origins movie. They wanted to prioritize the action and invoke Robert De Niro’s “oh fuck this guy is scary” factor in Cape Fear, highlighting the sheer badassness and animal edge of the character. He’s sexy, he’s a wounded soul, he’s a killer, and most of all: a Fighter. He gets back at Zero for killing the Hudsons, tracks down Victor and annihilates him with his newfound strength, and kills anybody who gets in his way.  

To contrast: There are plenty of points in the Weapon X story where Logan fights and kills. He kills every animal they sicc on him. Slaughters a lab tech who goes into his cell while he’s screaming bloody murder. There’s no victory in it though, because he is doing precisely what the Professor has set out to condition him for. In text, it affirms the view of his abusers that he’s a “Mindless murdering animal.” He slaughters the security team sent to him and most important: He kills the architect of his immediate misery, he kills the Professor, the most satisfying slaughter of the story. But that very same satisfaction is hollow, it’s the product of unreality, false memories being planted into his mind as another part of the experiment. They’re empty for Logan, the subject. He doesn’t get to triumph. 

This is the story of an abused man in the thick of that environment, not so much a story about how he beat the odds. It’s hinted at toward the end, but likely not shown because this is a prequel story, and Wolverine’s integration into the X-Men in the modern day IS the triumph. This is a contextual tale. This story can’t be all that there is and it isn’t, because Logan is destined to make it out. The Logan we know is at the end of this, but the Logan in this story is only just beginning down a path of trauma that will rip away his sense of self. The distinction lies in what kind of story both mediums are trying to tell. The tale of victimization, abuse, and dehumanization that is told in “Weapon X” undermines the kind of story that Origins wants to tell, one of a man’s journey down the long road and the choices and intentions that set him on the path to being Wolverine. 

With the amount of blood, gore, and misery at work here, some might be compelled to characterize what happens in Weapon X as torture porn. However, Torture porn implies a level of gratuitousness that I just don’t think is present in the story proper. There’s a perfectly good reason for the raw, visceral discomfort and atmosphere: It speaks to the total lack of compassion and empathy in these people. Those who aren’t actively mocking this man are complicit at best, lending their help in a project that they know the subject isn’t a voluntary participant in. 

Everyone seems to be in on a joke that Logan is the punchline for. Even if not everyone laughs, the point stands that Logan is stumbling blindly into spectacle for the entertainment and voyeuristic study of the project workers. It all feels like one big horror side-show. Windsor-Smith was doing a thematic breakdown on human apathy and sadism through characters like the Professor, Dr. Cornelius, and Carol Hines. The Professor is sadistic and clinical, he feeds little fish to the big fish and taps the glass for his amusement. Cornelius and Hines are apathetic, they will occasionally express remorse (with Hines crying multiple times), but both of them continue to be active participants in an unwitting man’s abuse and torture. Cornelius because he feels that he doesn’t have any other choice but to be here, and Hines because of her sense of loyalty to the project and general obligations as a staff member. The graphic imagery and out-of-touch quality of Logan’s mental state are meant to evoke compassion, sympathy, and anger in the readers. This is the Wolverine we’re talking about. If it’s one thing he does, it’s fight back. He kills, he gets even, but here? He doesn’t. He can’t. He’s helpless. 

It’s an interesting exploration, seeing a major icon for masculine ideals being subject to the sort of objectification that we only tend to see rendered in such explicit ways with female characters. Nobody expects someone associated with such strength to be brought this low. The story doesn’t diminish the value of his suffering or imply that the abuse diminishes him in any way, I never quite got the implication that Logan was less of a man for any of the things that the experiment put him through. It’s absolutely insane for a story written during the Bush Sr. era to be able to tackle the kind of nuance on abuse creating victims across genders that people still struggle with today. Hines, Cornelius, and the Professor are the central drivers of a dialogue on what it means to be human, and through their contributions to Logan’s suffering, they prove that for being the supposed “human” opposites to his mutant monstrous self, only acknowledged as human as lip service, there is an endless capacity for cruelty. It brings us back around to Logan, who in being subjugated has shown the audience that The Wolverine is human too. 

TLDR: X-Men Origins fumbled the ball adapting the story in an interesting way and I blame executive meddling. I think it would’ve been a really cool exploration of the character to showcase the horrific parts of the origin story, and if not that, then to explore the various themes highlighted by the original story but that probably would’ve required an R rating, and you know how studios take to those for their big IPs. That said, I cannot recommend reading the source enough. Barry Windsor-Smith tells a damn good story, even if it doesn’t feel characterized by the same quirks of an X-Men tale. Quite honestly? I think that’s the appeal. It’s as much a character study as it is a horror show of all the ways one person can be unmade. 

[phantomtrader19]

(HALF*) 2024/25 cast REVIEW 31.08.2024

Spent 2 shows yesterday at phantom which I haven’t done in a while! Planned this couple months ago to see the new cast however I had covers for Raoul, Mme Giry & Piangi and all swings on too! There was a lot of people off!

First off it felt so strange to not see some cast members who had been there since 2021!

Ensemble was made up of all 5 swings being on which is a first for me I think?

Overall lovely performances from all, new corps de ballet were gorgeous as always!

For the Principals I’ll start with Millie Lyon as Meg who was brilliant - lovely youthful voice, feisty characterisation and a BLONDE wig! I’ve missed the blonde wig! Fantastic Meg looking forward to seeing her much more.

Martin Ball as Firmin is an absolute triumph! Hilariously pompous and arrogant and such a grumbly kind of voice he was a standout last night, he seemed to play the role like he was tipsy drunk the majority of the time and he was just not interested in all the dramas going on. Great chemistry with Adam which I admittedly thought may have been difficult to achieve after Matt Harrop but I absolutely loved his take on the character!

Hywel Dowsell was on for Piangi, last time I seen him he was second cover and was on for the first time in 18 months! Lovely nuanced performance with little ad-libs and added acting pieces - really enjoyed!

Victoria Ward was on for Mme Giry I’ve seen her once before and I really enjoyed her and even yesterday she was such a standout! Beautiful voice and again such nuanced acting and more motherly to Meg!

Joanna Ampil as Carlotta was very different to what we’ve seen before, less operatic and more ever so slightly belty sometimes her voice got a little lost in the music, still some gorgeous top notes but I just was hoping for a little more oomph from her voice. acting wise was generally great but I did hope for a little more over the top like Carlotta should be, looking forward to seeing how she grows into the role over the next year!

Enjoyed Michael as Raoul - super strong voice and some great acting choices! I’ve now seen him as many times as I’ve seen Joe! (6 times) Joe is admittedly more my cup of tea acting wise but I enjoyed him nonetheless.

Lily was on fire yesterday, gorgeous voice and acting was out of this world, a top tier Christine by miles! My only slight gripe is her last note in think of me I’m not sure if the orchestra is rushing her or something else but it’s very short, her other high notes are held much longer but I just wish she got to hold it slightly longer as it felt super rushed, 8th time seeing her and always finding new things I love about her Portrayal! Her chemistry with Dean was also insane!!!

Now for Dean, I heard the opening night audio and I’ll admit I wasn’t crazy about his voice and didn’t hear too much acting albeit through audio so my expectations were mid however, I was absolutely BLOWN AWAY that was how a Phantom should sound his voice literally vibrated the auditorium and was just ridiculously gorgeous!!! Acting wise he was more gentler with Christine until the final lair when he let loose. I’ll go out on a limb and say from all the Phantoms I’ve seen he may have been my favourite in line with Earl Carpenter - vocally 100% my favourite he reminded me of Colm Wilkinson, Tim Howar & Killian Donnelly in some musical points. a firm favourite!

Really great cast, will be back to catch the full principal cast so I can see Helen Hobson as Mme Giry!

Aiming to see Eve with the new cast too as I last saw her nearly a year ago and must’ve caught an off show as she wasn’t sounding great but after hearing more recent audios she sounded as beautiful as her debut! Would also love to see Zoe on as Carlotta as she has a voice that lifts the ensemble to new heights!

I do have audios from the 2 shows yesterday, please message me to trade but disclaimer that my replies are not great rn as work has been super hectic!

[stevesnightmares]

I just re-read the captive prince trilogy after 9 years so here are some thoughts and observations (I read a physical copy while listening to the audiobbok):

No spoilers

the books are super easy to read, I read each of them in a day and never once did I get bored or felt like I needed to take a break. If you enjoy them I feel like they work perfectly if you are in a reading slump.

I might be biased because I was also listening to it while reading but I feel like the writing worked just fine. I saw people say that the writing was awful but I didn't have any problems at all with it. I was never once confused by what was happening on page nor did I ever feel like too little or too much was being said and described.

One of my gripes with the writing comes in book 3 because I felt like the two parts that had Laurent POV just didn't work because it didn't feel like it was a stylistic choice and it didn't feel natural or needed, it just made me think that the author didn't know how to write that from Demen POV (which makes no sense because I know she can)

not only that but I also feel like it would've worked much better if we didn't get those scenes and continued with Demen's knowledge instead of making us privy to something he didn't know. I genuinely think they were unnecessary.

I might've missed something but in book 3 there is also a part where I felt like what Demen is thinking in a chapter and then what he claims and thinks a few chapters later don't align. With no spoilers, this is how it felt to me: chapter 1: demen thoughts: the apple fell from the tree chapter 3: demen thoughts and words: I knew the apple didn't fall on it's own and that there was a reason for it to fall.

I don't know why people say that these books handle its dark themes badly. Personally I think it handled everything quite well. Just because every 3 seconds the author isn't telling you "this is bad" it doesn't mean that it's poorly done or supports any of the bad things that happen.

The characters live in extremely flawed societies that have practices that we wouldn't condemn, so of course they will not immediately start out being against them, it wouldn't make sense, instead throughout the books and events they slowly start to realise why some things are bad. It's called character development.

Not only that, words coming out of a flawed and traumatised character shouldn't be taken as the moral of the book but as what they are: words of a flawed and traumatised character who is lashing out.

I feel like many people saw that very bad things that happen in these books and instrad of saying "I can't read that", which is fair, they decided to take the high horse and act as if it's morally wrong to like these books because bad things are portrayed in them.

Book 2 I think was my favourite, I devoured it and it was just super fun to read.

My second gripe is with Jokaste but without spoiling anything I can only say that her character was imo wasted and that it just felt like the author had 2 very different ideas of who she was in book 1 and book 3.

I LOVE laurent, he's just the type of characters that I enjoy, cold and guarded on the outside but only because he wants to protect himself while being also sweet.

Also really enjoyed many of the side characteristics which I thought were really interesting (I would've enjoyed more interactions between those other characteristics and L and D but that's a personal taste)

I actually think that 9 years ago I only read the first book and the first half of the second while skimming through the rest lmao

also I will not tell you which character I didn't like at all and found annoying when I was 16 but would die for in an instant now because you'll think 16 years old me was psychopath because what the fuck

[lyss-sketchbox]

Ok coming off anon because I'm trying to conquer the constant social anxiety lmao (same person who sent you Longass Thoughts on Natlan AQ) - SO YEAH personally I like Ei's character but foaming a bit at the mouth because I feel like my favorite parts of her character (namely she was NOT ready to be the archon when makoto kicked the bucket, she's got that good ol' warrior-weapon mindset knocking around in there- having her actually confront the ugly truth of the consequences of her actions was such a missed opportunity. it would've been SO good to see her actually get confronted personally without any sugarcoating. i think her learning to be less of a shitty archon would've been so much better then)

also like. im sure there were a lot of ways to improve Inazuma's story but personally i thought it would've been cooler if kokomi was a bit more. morally grey lmao. like willing to do not-so-nice things to fight god because that's what they're doing. mortals attempting to defy the god that holds dominion over their land (bc the electro archon isn't really Watatsumi's god specifically!! bc uh lmao ei killed him lol)

but yea for real in natlan every "serious problem" was severely undercut by "actually it's all good now" like "kachina is totally fine after being chased by the abyss in the afterlife, she was protected by the wayob so it's all good and she's also mentally ok" and it's like what. what are you talking about.

AND THE ARchON thing i feel like im the only one who has a gripe. tbf the story is not done yet BUT MY QUESTION IS CELESTIA ALLOWED A HUMAN (MULTIPLE EVEN) TO ASCend to the divine throne???? Like what??? IT feels like it runs counter to everything-

and like uh feels like we got really really far away from like. when you talk about the archon war in liyue it was a literal bloodbath. sacrifices upon sacrifices were made, the modern day liyue was built upon the corpses of friend and foe alike because there was no other choice. you couldn't abstain, you would die.

but in natlan???? no gods??? what???? im just losing it more than a bit over here that natlan is trying simultaneously to be a grim land of constant war but also sunshine friendship and rainbows.

at this point im prepared to be disappointed and just crossing my fingers the good writing comes back for snezhnaya's AQ bc if they fuck up snezhnaya i will literally never forgive them

Its all good man, youre so welcome to debate and talk off anon, we may disagree but never hate.

Im putting all my ramblings under cut since its gonna be as equally long and spoilery hdjsnsn

About Ei

I completely forgot about how Ei was originally a kagemusha, a weapon for her sister, her sister did all the archon work while Ei simply stood by her side. Its makes perfect sense that after the death of her sister, she would make very bad not thought out decisions and because she is an archon now, those bad decisions has really really bad aftermaths.

I personally do not have any gripes about her being basically clueless about the outside world. Grief manifests in different ways and locking yourself away and justifying it as a twisted way to gain enlightment of eternity the way your sister did, it can make sense. It is a consequence!! She is clueless of how to be an archon and what is going on in her nation, her SQ could have been used to show her trying to understand and emphatize with her people to be a better archon. NOT A REASON TO MAKE HER AN uwu sad defenseless waifu cant cook and doesnt know anything. Brother she fucking killed people and almost destroyed her nation.

About Kokomi

I like the idea of morally grey kokomi actually. It makes alot of sense. Kokomi and the watatsumi people might have some vishap descendance but they are still humans, even less so with visions. Theyre also lacking the supplies and expertise needed to continue a war with an entire nation and its archon. It would make sense that she would accept the fatuis help since they share the sentiment of 'getting to inazuma and its archon'.

But it was shown she wasnt even aware who the anonymous donor is, hell she wasnt aware people where using delusions until people starts dying. And for a girl who wrote an entire guide book with 100 different alternate plans, HOW DO YOU NOT SEE THIS COMING...............

About Natlan's system

Yeah they really brushed off the dying part and potentially being stuck in genshin limbo if you dont get out in time too casually. The tiny child you retrieved from limbo also is... very chill and not mentally scarred or anything, she wasnt putting up a brave face, she was simply unaffected?????? One on kachina's voiceovers is gonna talk about her death but im not friendship 4 with her yet. I hope it explains SOMETHING.

Yeah the first time i heard that the archon was human and has been replaced multiple times had me gawking too, i can excuse that Celestia has been strangely inactive FOR NOW.

I wanted to bring up how the hydro archon throne being broken and Neuvi regaining his sovernity didnt even call Celestia to action but GUESS WHAT??? I DONT KNOW IF NATLAN HAPPENED BEFORE OR AFTER FONTAINE BECAUSE THEY DECIDE TO LOWER THE REQUIREMENTS TO DO NATLAN AQ!!!!!!! But well if it happened after (since Neuvis end dialogue told us to go to Natlan next), well... Celestia isnt called either so theyve just been inactive for 500 years of Natlans weird system ig.

About the """Nation of War"""

Yeah man. Sacrifices and war was dealt better in liyue. Same as Natlan, it is a nation built of war. There was war in the past, sacrifices were made to built the liyue we know now. But the sacrifices in liyue was not brushed off or belittled, those sacrifices had meaning and the people of liyue hold very high regards for the fallen. In Natlan? Its treated like some sort of sick hunger games event, they made war into entertainment.

Oh but they need the tournaments to keep the natlan fire alive. THEN RUN A SEPERATE FUCKING TOURNEY?????? MAKE EVERYONE WHO HAS AN ANCIENT NAME HAVE PROPER TRAINING AND GO TO WAR IN ARMIES PROPER???? THIS SHIT DOESNT NEED TO BE ENTERTAINMENT AND YET YOU DID. Maybe the flames are small BECAUSE YOU PICK ONLY 5 PEOPLE EVERYTIME WHEN THERES LITERALLY NO REASON VETERANS LIKE KINICH AND MUALANI TO SIT IT OUT JUST BECAUSE THEY LOST.

Oh but the ode of resurrection only works on limited people THEN SEND OUT THE BEST PEOPLE THEN???????? MUALANI, A 3 TIMES VETERAN, LOST TO KACHINA. CLEARLY THE TOURNEYS ARENT RELIABLE TO PICK WHO TO SEND.

While i can understand that while Liyue is past war and Natlan is still in war, this is... not how people in war act. The entertainment the happiness the hospitality. Its not efforts to keep morale high its literally just... happy people, sometimes they get attacked by abyss monsters yeah cool but otherwise theyre completely happy just living like that. Thats why the Nation of War thing isnt working at all, these people are not how people STILL IN WAR act. Theres no anxiety no uncertainty no worry at all, not even a smidget. These people live like happy prospering people.

You know what happened to people tryna be happy prospering people while still in war in liyue? Havria.

I hope they bring back the high AR requirement for snezhnaya so snezhnaya can be chronologically correct. I hope they take snezhnaya seriously. I hope Natlan atleast wont pull an inazuma and tripped at the very end

NONE OF THAT POWER OF FRIENDSHIP BS EITHER I didnt believe it when mualani fucking knocked it over our heads over and over and over again and its not gonna work now.

[alphashley14]

One of Us

A Scooby Doo: Mystery Incorporated/Mystery Skulls Crossover

<Prev

Chapter 25

Erase Me (Original Demo)

<WARNING - This chapter contains themes of sexual assault and domestic violence that may be upsetting to some readers. Though no actual SA takes place. Viewer discretion advised.>

Mystery Incorporated didn’t talk much in the few minutes before they arrived at their destination. There had been plenty of idle chatter about Hatecraft’s new boyfriend. And plenty of speculation about what exactly Mystery had said to Mr. Ellison. Or what he may have shown him for that matter - the writer had been very pale when Mystery had brought him back. 

Then Lewis had dropped a bomb on them about Arthur’s flash drive. And if they had to use it, it would fall upon at least one member of Mystery Incorporated to watch it. 

… All things considered it made sense why they hadn’t heard about it before now but the timing was still shit.

Daisy Blake’s impressive property, as with many wealthy homes, was surrounded by a tall wrought iron fence, and the road was blocked by a gate. Given such, when Mystery Incorporated and the Mystery Skulls pulled up to it, it fell upon Daphne to get them buzzed inside. She leaned over Fred on all fours, reached her arm out the driver’s side window, and-  hesitated. 

“We’re doomed,” Daphne gulped. 

“Is your relationship with Daisy really that awful?” Lewis asked over the two-way radio. Having three (albeit adopted) sisters of his own, he sometimes struggled to see how siblings could be anything but inseparable. With Daphne however, it seemed that wasn’t the case.

“It’s pretty bad,” Velma said back. “She commissioned us to retrieve a necklace of hers once after it was stolen by a Hodag, and she was super rude the entire time we were here.”

“Ugh, this is a bad idea. Even if it is the only one we’ve got,” Daphne groaned.

“Come on though. She can’t be completely heartless, right? I mean she’s a doctor. Isn’t caring about people in her job description?” Vivi asked.

“Yeah you’d think so, wouldn’t you?” Daphne griped. “Well I’ve never seen her at work but I can definitely say I’ve never seen her flex a selfless muscle in her body outside of it. As for Steve, he’s… I haven’t talked to him that much but he seems like a good guy. But don’t be fooled. He’s from… ‘our world’. So he can slither around in a den of vipers just as well as Daisy.”

“Be that as it may,” Mystery interjected. “What choice do we have?”

“And if all else fails, there’s always the flashdrive…” Lewis reminded them all. 

As if they needed reminding.

Without further ado, Daphne rang the buzzer. 

They waited. 

Daphne rang it again. 

Just as she was about to hit it a third time, a voice drawled through the intercom, “Who is it?” 

“Hi Daisy!” Daphne said as nicely as she could. Though there was an ugly grimace on her face seen only by the other occupants of the Mystery Machine. “Iiit’s Daphne.”

“Daaaphne. Finally taking me up on my offer to bring your little trap-maker by for polo?”

“Fraid’ not, sis. We need to talk. I’m calling in an I-owe-you from when my friends and I braved a Hodag on your behalf. Unless you’ve forgotten?”

“An I-owe-you?” Daisy scoffed. “And here I thought favors among family were supposed to be unconditional.”

Daphne took a deep breath as if she was about to shout, but Velma placed a hand on her shoulder. “Gently, Daphne….”

Daphne let that breath out, then took a second deep breath to gather herself. “Daisy,” she finally said, “you’ve made it abundantly clear my entire life that asking anything of you is pointless. That’s why I stopped trying years ago. Do you really think I’d come to you now if it wasn’t important?”

Daisy said nothing on the other end of the line. 

“Please, Daisy!” Daphne groaned. “I need your help right now more than I have ever needed it in my entire life. Just- hear me out and I will never ask anything of you again. Please.”

A moment’s pause. 

Then there came a loud BZZZZZZT, and the gates swung open. 

Daphne sighed with relief and sat back in her seat. Much to Fred’s relief - Daphne hovering over his lap like that was giving him some weird feelings. But for now, they would have to go into a box to be sorted out later. A big, thick steel box with the best locks his brain could conjure.

They had a job to do. 

Three minutes later the two vans were parked and Daisy’s mansion was towering imposingly before them. Once both groups were squeezed onto the front porch, it was one again time to ring the doorbell. “This is going to be a dumpster fire,” Daphne groaned.

“Come on. I know the odds are against us, but she’s your sister,” Vivi said, trying to be supportive. “If you go in thinking this is going to go badly, then it will. Just think positive!”

“Okay - I am positive this is going to be a dumpster fire.”

Vivi opened and closed her mouth before finally pulling out her phone. “Ya know what? That was funny. I’m writing that down.”

“Regardless of how this goes, with or without using the footage, the result will be the same,” Mystery said. “I want to avoid it if I can, but know this: we have exactly one plan and are pressed for time. Daphne - I will put a spell on your sister if I have to. So for her sake, you’d better use every bit of cunning and charm that you possess.”

“So like, it’s a good thing Daphne has so much of both!” Shaggy said, flashing her two thumbs up. 

“Reah!” “You’ve got this Daph!” Scooby and Fred cheered.

With a heavy sigh, Daphne moved to hit the doorbell, but the door swung open a split-second before she could. And there was Daisy Blake, looking not too pleased to see her sister there unannounced. And even more displeased when she saw just how much company she’d brought with her. 

“Daphne.”

“Daisy.”

“You sure brought a lot of friends. I didn’t realize you had this many outside your little mystery club.”

Daphne’s eye twitched. “Well - you learn something new every day, don’t you?” she said through gritted teeth. “You’ve met Fred, Velma, and Scooby. This is Vivi, Lewis, Arthur, and Mystery. Is Steve home?”

“Yeah, and he’s enjoying a quiet morning in. He worked a twelve hour shift yesterday,” Daisy said, not-so-subtly hinting that they should make this quick. Unfortunately, everyone but Daisy knew that would not be happening.

“Then we’re sorry to disturb him,” said Vivi. “But we need to talk to both of you.”

“To both of us? Just what kind of favor do you have in mind?” Daisy scoffed.

“I have a patient for you,” Daphne said. “And to say the situation is complicated would be an understatement. Can we talk about the details inside?”

To the untrained eye, Daisy’s expression did not change. But the older mystery solvers could all see a calculating glint hiding behind her mascara as Daisy gave a deceptively nonchalant shrug and waved them inside. 

Daisy led them through a maze of large rooms and clean, geometric shapes. Where Hatecraft’s home had celebrated the gothic past, Daisy Blake’s home was grounded in the future. It was dominated by whites, grays, and blues with dashes of magenta, and the art on the walls was inspired by the human body. 

It all made Vivi extremely uncomfortable, and she knew Arthur would hate it here if Shaggy wasn’t walking around in his body right now. The medical motifs and overall lack of character reminded her of a hospital or a doctor’s office. And indeed, many of the “modern” light fixtures and furniture looked as if they’d been taken directly from the couple’s profession. Vivi had spent enough time in hospitals for a lifetime - staying by her friend’s side while he recovered from having his arm ripped off. 

Daisy led them into a spacious living room and sweetly called out, “Stevie darling, we have company.” 

And while there were many less-than-pleasant things that could be said about Daisy Blake, there was real tenderness in her voice for her betrothed, and her face softened when he turned around from where he sat on the couch watching a medical drama. 

Steve Poindexter was as wealthy as he was handsome. Nothing less would please a woman like Daisy. And while he was quite a few years older than her (Daisy was twenty-four and he was thirty-five) there was nothing untoward about their relationship and they were very much in love. 

“Who is it, Daisy Belle? Friends of yours?” He asked, pausing the TV and getting up. 

“Not at all,” Daisy said. “You remember my littlest sister Daphne, I’m sure. And these are some of her little Mystery-solving friends.”

“I know who you are,” Steve said. “Some of my colleagues were there the night you captured a Headless Horror at the hospital. And I was called in to treat one of the victims of the cicada attacks for nerve damage after the bugs wrecked his car. He couldn’t sleep through the night until you kids caught the perpetrator. And for that you have my thanks.”

Mystery Incorporated straightened a little from the uncommon moment of praise for their efforts. 

“-But I get the impression this isn’t a social call.”

“I’m afraid not,” said Daphne. “We need your help. Specifically: we have a patient who needs your help.”

“That’s right - you said something about a patient. So, who is it and what’s the problem?” Daisy asked.

All seven of them glanced at each other.

“Can we sit down?” Daphne asked.

Daisy raised an eyebrow, but allowed it. And once they were all seated around the room across from Daisy and Steve, they began to tell their story.

“You said you treated a victim of the cicada attacks,” Velma said. 

“I did,” said Steve.

“Then you must be familiar with Destroido.”

“Uh, who in Crystal Cove isn’t familiar with Destroido?” Daisy asked in a do-you-think-we’re-stupid? tone of voice.

“Fair,” Velma shrugged. “Getting to our point, you might have heard about those kids that disappeared in the caves twenty years ago.”

“Kids that- Oh yeeeah, those weirdos. I was a few years younger than them, but I saw them around school every now and again,” Steve said. “There was always weird stuff happening around those freaks. And their parrot gave me the creeps.”

“Oh yeeeah… I was like super little when that happened,” Daisy drawled. “Didn’t you find them though? ...Some of them, anyway? Mommy and Daddy hosted a party for trap-boy’s parents here a while back, right?”

“Yeeeah…” Fred sighed. 

“Ohhhh that’s right. You’re the kid the old mayor got locked up for kidnapping,” Steve cringed.

“That’s me…” Fred said awkwardly.

“Anyway!” Dahne interjected. “We actually did find all of them. In fact the other two had both been living in Crystal Cove under new identities for some time. Cassidy Williams is actually Angel Dynamite, the DJ at K-Ghoul radio.”

“Wait- The one that exploded? Didn’t you used to be there all the time?” Daisy asked.

“That’s the one,” Daphne said, shocked Daisy had paid her enough attention to know that. “-And the last one, Ricky Owens, has been going by Mr. E… he’s the owner of Destroido.”

If Steve or Daisy had been drinking something, they undoubtedly would have spat it out. “Whaaat?”

“It’s true,” Vivi said. “And he’s also the patient we need you to treat.”

“Isn’t the owner of Destroido like… a billionaire? And a total recluse?” Steve asked. 

“Yeah. How the heck did you get involved with someone like that?” Daisy asked. 

“And for that matter, why doesn’t he just hire us himself if he needs treatment? Or go to the hospital? Why would he need some kids to seek out our services for him?” Steve asked. 

“Like- hoh boy, those are all excellent questions,” Shaggy gulped. 

“And that is what we meant when we said this situation was complicated,” said Velma. 

“But before we tell you anything else - Daisy, Steve, I need you to promise that none of it leaves this room,” Daphne said. “If we don’t have your discretion, people could get seriously hurt. Possibly even die.”

Daisy started to laugh. But then she saw the look on her sister’s face, and the haughty facade melted away a little bit more. “Oh… oh shit, you’re serious about this, aren’t you?”

“Like I said,” Daphne sighed, “I wouldn’t have bothered coming to you if it wasn’t important.”

Daisy and Steve looked at each other and came to a silent agreement. “Alright,” said Daisy, “you have my word.”

“We’re no strangers to confidentiality,” Steve said with a nod. “But I reserve the right to use my best judgment.”

“If you have any respect for yourselves, your profession, or your patients,” Mystery growled, “you’ll treasure the trust being placed in your hands and keep your mouths shut.” 

Daisy and Steve stared at him. “Just so we’re clear… that dog just talked. Right?” Asked Steve. 

“See, Darling? I told you weird things happen around Daphne. But I thought that was the one who talks.” 

“Reah. I can talk too,” said Scooby.

Steve blinked at him. “... Huh.”

“Ha! If you think that’s weird, you are not prepared,” Vivi scoffed.

“So? Do we have your confidentiality or not?” Asked Mystery. 

Steve was now wearing the same calculating look as his betrothed. “...Alright.”

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Cassidy Williams woke very suddenly to an empty room. 

What in the world? How did I- Mystery! That son of a bitch! Grumbling curses under her breath, Angel sat up with a groan, stretching this way and that to relieve the stiffness in her limbs before her eyes wandered to the empty spot on the couch where Ricky had been. Then she spotted two pieces of stationary on the coffee table. After reading them, she realized that he must’ve woken up a while ago and wandered off to find something to do. 

Cassidy stood and stretched once more to loosen the sore muscles in her thighs and buttocks, and then there came a happy trilling sound. When she looked up, she found two Dead Beats floating into the room towards her. “Hey babies, how you doin?” Angel chuckled as they snaked around her neck and torso for pets. “You mind showin’ me where that fool Ricky got to?”

The little ghosts gave an affirming chirp and made a “follow me!” motion with their nubby little arms. 

They found Ricky in the kitchen. The lights were off in the daytime and the only light was streaming in from a window above the sink. Bubbles drifted lazily through the air, catching the light with sparkling rainbow sheens before popping in a shower of tiny droplets like falling stars. And standing at the sink, jacket tied around his waist and his bare arms elbow-deep in soapy water, was Ricky. Well- Ricky-in-Shaggy’s-body, that is. 

His back was to the door, and he was working his way through the mountain of dirty dishes from their huge breakfast that morning. There were also Dead Beats all over the place. There had to be at least twenty! Ricky would finish a dish, inspect it, then hold it up and a Dead Beat would take it and either find a place in the dishwasher or carefully stack it in one of the cabinets. Those that weren’t helping were hanging around the room watching Ricky work. There was a radio on the counter playing one of their hosts’ more upbeat, hopeful-sounding songs, and Ricky was lightly bobbing his head along while the Dead Beats pulsed and hummed to the beat. 

“-In this life, it changes for the better, babe.  And right now, I feel it, overtaking meee~…. Oooh. “Said please baby, please. Erase me. Erase my mind again-”

Cassidy hadn’t seen him so content since she’d arrived. For a few moments she was content to lean against the doorframe, arms crossed, and watch him. But she knew she couldn’t lurk forever. 

“Hey, baby.”

Shaggy’s body jumped in a way that was utterly and completely Ricky, and when he spun around his entire face was as pink as the Dead Beats. “Ca-Cassidy! Uh- hi. I was just- dishes,” He stammered. In a way that was just as stupid as it was endearing, and his own embarrassment only turned his face redder. 

“And just like before, we’ll fall in love.”

Cassidy snorted and crossed the room in a few strides, brushing the mob of ghosts away as they tried to crowd around her for attention. “Here. It’ll get done faster with two,” she said, standing at the large sink beside him. He scooted over a little to give her room, but her hip still ended up brushing against his thigh. His blush wasn’t going away. Interesting. 

“We’ll fall in love again.”

“I’m uh- glad you’re up,” Ricky said as the two of them got into the chore. “I woke up a while ago and hung around for a while but… then I got hungry and when I got to the kitchen there were all these dishes so I figured… might as well, am I right? Anyway - did you sleep good?” 

“Well given that a spell was put on me, I don’t think I got much of a say in how I slept,” Cassidy grumbled. 

Ricky snorted. “Me neither. Though I at least wanted the sleeping potion, even if I was the idiot who took it at the wrong time. Still - do you at least feel better? It didn’t occur to me how long you must’ve been awake.”

Cassidy pressed her lips into a thin line. “Yeah… I do.” She admitted dryly, but then she waved a sudsy ladle at him and scolded, “-And if you tell Mystery that, I’ll smack you silly!”

Ricky laughed. “Don’t worry - I won’t. Can’t give him the satisfaction after pulling one over on us, now can we?” 

“Definitely not,” she agreed. 

As the song came to a close and the two worked in silence, Cassidy gradually realized that Ricky was tensing up again. His brows were furrowed and there was a troubled look on his face. Was he considering telling her whatever it was everyone seemed to be tiptoeing around? Or was there something else?

“So…?” Cassidy finally said, not looking at him.

Ricky jumped. “So?” He echoed, pretending not to know what she could be “so”-ing about. 

“Is there anything you wanna tell me?” 

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him starting to sweat, and the nervous bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed. “Uh-huh,” he croaked. 

Cassidy paused what she was doing, forearms resting on the edge of the sink, and looked at him. Waiting. 

Ricky looked petrified.

Probably on account of the fact that he was petrified.

He had been thinking about this, dreading this, since he’d hung up the phone with Lewis. But all those thoughts had done was draw a new weariness over him. So heavy on his shoulders it had been tempting to lie back down, close his eyes, and return to that familiar, comfortable blackness where he wouldn’t need to think about it anymore. That was why he’d left the room in the first place. Watching Cassidy, still blissfully dozing, he’d found himself envious of the peace written on her face. But now that her beautiful black eyes were open and expectant, the words were shriveling on his tongue. 

What sort of expression will you make when you find out what kind of man I became without you? Ricky wondered. Will you be able to look at me at all, once you know what it took to change me?

His hands were shaking when he took them out of the water and hastily dried them with a dishtowel. “I- uh…” He opened and closed his mouth a few times. 

A moment passed. 

Then another. 

Then finally he shook his head. 

“... I can’t.” 

Cassidy bit her bottom lip. She was frustrated. And honestly a little hurt. But instead of getting angry she asked, “Why not?... The others know. So you told them. Why not me?”

Ricky didn’t say it, but he knew exactly why. 

Because whatever care or respect you have left for me is one of the few things I have left to lose.

“When I… told them,” Ricky began shakily, fiddling with his hands, “it was right after- well- this happened.” He gestured to himself, in Shaggy’s body. “I was emotional, and it was an emergency. But now… the words’ve just left me.”

“Then you don’t have to tell me everything yet,” Cassidy sighed, resigned. “But… can you try? Just- start wherever makes sense and tell me what you can.”

Ricky still looked absolutely terrified, but he nodded. “... okay.” 

He didn’t say anything for a moment. 

Then another. 

Then finally- 

“I said no,” Ricky said, right as Cassidy was starting to worry he wasn’t going to say anything at all. “Professor Pericles was spiraling. I’d gone along with… things I’m not proud of. But after a certain point… what we were doing didn’t make sense anymore. He was hurting people. And it was as if he was enjoying it. And that- wasn’t what I signed up for. At least I didn’t think it was. And I’m ashamed to say it, but I think it was his reckless spending that snapped me out of it. He’s spent millions. Hundreds of millions, Cassidy. Of Destroido’s money - my money. Often without permission, and never with so much as a ‘thank you.’ And ya know what? Yeah - that pissed me off. Enough that money-related questions led me to the questions I probably-definitely should have been asking all along. I knew I had to do something so- I locked him out of the system. I was losing control of the group and figured if they needed me to access every cent, then I could filter what they did with it. And uh… he- didn’t like that very much.” 

Ricky still remembered the surge of fear that went through him when Pericles had launched himself off his perch. Could still feel the sting on his cheek. “-Idiot human mascot!”

“So he uh- anyway- he attacked me.”

“I’m sorry. He attacked you? How? Were you hurt?!” She demanded. 

“It was just a slap!” Ricky said quickly. Only to immediately kick himself. Why is your first instinct to defend him??? “But uh… he’d- never hit me before, ya’know?” He said with a half-assed smile. “He’d- said some pretty nasty things but he’d never- so it uh… really smacked some sense into me, huh?” He laughed halfheartedly at his own joke, trying to lighten the mood. 

Cassidy wasn’t laughing. Cassidy looked horrified. Ricky looked away so he wouldn’t have to see that look on her face anymore. 

“It- made it clear to me that I was gonna have to do something drastic, so I went to Brad and Judy. He was out of control. Losing his mind, really. And he wasn’t even pretending to listen to me anymore. I thought if I could get all three of us to throw him out, or at least threaten to, then I could make him see reason. But uh…”

His voice cracked, and he had to swallow and pause before he could talk again. “They uh… they lied to me. They told me to my face that they were with me. But then they went straight to him. And uh… he uh…” Ricky choked back a sob, his vision blurring with tears. 

‘Tell her…’ that pitiful part of him whimpered once more. ‘Come on! Just say it!’  

Cassidy’s arm, still wet from the sink, slid around his. And she gently interlaced their fingers. She didn’t say anything, but she was there. Grounding him. Listening. Waiting. 

“They- they drugged me and they- he put s-something…” Ricky shuddered, but he just couldn’t get those last few words out. He couldn’t bring himself to tell her about the thing in his back. How dirty he felt all the time knowing that there was something inside him that could turn on him at any moment. The torture. The way Pericles had laughed while Ricky screamed… 

“Cassidy, I messed up. I-I messed up so bad. I’m in so much trouble… I couldn’t refuse him anything anymore, I couldn’t leave, and I had no one to go to for help. I’m- I’m a prisoner in my own home. Then this happened, and now Arthur’s in my place. But he’s- he’s not me. He’s smart, he’s brave, and he has friends. I’m fucked - but Arthur has a plan to get me un-fucked, and he’s doing it with my body.” 

Ricky paused to sniff and rub the wetness from his eyes with his wrist. “The others are uh… in Crystal Cove right now. They’ve gone to one of Daphne’s sisters for help, but in order to prove what’s happening to me and show her what we’re up against… Arthur and Hot Dog- Marcie - hacked Destroido’s cameras. Anyway… they uploaded all the footage they could onto a flashdrive and uh- and right about now the kids are probably watching it.” And his eyes were wet when he turned and smiled at her. “-And when they get back… I think I need you to see it too.”

Cassidy was staring at him with an expression that was almost unreadable. “Ricky,” she said at last. “I won’t push too hard. But please- please at the very least tell me this: Ricky… Ricky, they didn’t!”

Confusion stabbed through his other emotions. What’s with that face? “Didn’t what-” Then he thought about what he’d said, and realized what she was insinuating.

“Oh! Oh shit- NO! Nonono! It was nothing like that! I swear!” 

She stared at him for a long moment, searching his face for honesty. Then quietly, she pressed her forehead to his shoulder and all but sagged against him. “Thank god…”

Oh no… “Cassidy…” When was the last time she’d- it had been years since he had last seen her this upset. He knew the sadness in her eyes. He knew the longing he either ignored, denied, or pretended not to see. And he remembered her anger. The night she’d stormed into Destroido on her bike, the night he’d been found out for being behind the Oblitheratrix, the night they’d stopped working together… he remembered her anger. He remembered the shouting, the screaming, the arm-waving and circle-walking as she raved and berated him for his foolishness. He remembered hurled insults and both of them saying things they regretted later. 

And most of all, he remembered that one last tearful look over her shoulder when she left his home and never came back. 

But she wasn’t angry now. She was relieved and she was scared. For him. He dared to turn so her head was on his chest, his free arm came around her shoulders, and then… he dared press his nose into her curls. “I’m sorry, Cassidy. I didn’t mean to- it really wasn’t anything like that… I’m alright… Nobody- nobody touched me.”

And yet… the connection Cassidy had made bothered him. Was it really ‘nothing like that?’ He couldn’t help but wonder. Even if nothing overtly sexual had been done to him… now that Ricky was thinking about it that way: they had drugged him. Snuck into his room while he was sleeping. And while he was defenseless and vulnerable, they… put something inside him. And after that, he could never say no again… 

He remembered that dirty feeling. Then a whole new wave of revulsion washed over him as he realized fully, perhaps for the first time, just how truly violated he had been. How he was still being violated now. Professor Pericles, along with Brad and Judy, had taken over his home, his finances, his autonomy… and even if not in the way Cassidy had assumed - they’d violated his body too. 

“Promise me, Ricky,” Cassidy said at last. 

Her eyes were wet when she looked up at him. And they were simmering like hot coals. She didn’t know the full truth yet. But he knew that look. 

Rage.

“Swear to me that they didn’t violate you. Not like that. And not in any other way. Swear it!” 

He wanted to. 

But he’d also promised himself that he wouldn’t lie to her anymore. 

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Daisy and Steve were looking at them like they had lost their minds. 

To be fair though, if someone had come to them with the same story two days ago, they probably would have reacted the same way. 

“So. Let me see if I have the facts right,” Daisy said, disbelieving. “There was another mystery-solving group that got chased out of Crystal Cove twenty years ago by their psychotic genius talking pet parrot and the former mayor in a monster costume. But the parrot escaped from the animal asylum after a robot dog disguised as your dog attacked the place. And has now joined forces with two of the aforementioned missing kids - who happen to be trap-boy here’s long-lost parents - and trapped a third one, Ricky Owens, who has apparently been living as this “Mr. E” guy for… who knows how long, in some kind of domestic violence-type situation-”

“It really does get more and more bonkers the more you put it into words, doesn’t it?” Lewis muttered. Vivi, Mystery, Shaggy, and Scooby all nodded in agreement. 

“-So you’ve come here to ask my beautiful fiancee and I to surgically remove a small capsule of- mutated cobra larve from his lower back. Which the parrot has been using to torture and control him. Do I have that right?”

Daphne took a deep breath through her nose and said, as seriously as she could, “Daisy. You do not even have all of the facts for how absolutely bat-shit insane this situation is. But yeah - that’s the gist of it.”

“Oh my God, you have lost your mind.” 

“Daisy-”

“Get out.”

“Please, sis-” 

“You must think I’m either crazy or stupid to believe one word of this!” Daisy shouted! “Now get out!” 

“We can prove it,” said Lewis.

Daisy faltered, her eyes widening with surprise. Clearly, she hadn’t been expecting proof. Mystery Incorporated stiffened. Right… the flashdrive.

Lewis pulled it out of a pocket inside his vest, and all eyes locked on the small purple piece of plastic and metal pinched between his fingers. “- We’re not just rescuing Mr. E. He’s also working to rescue himself. With a little help, he hacked his own system. There’s hours of security footage and multiple notes and photographs on this flashdrive, proving everything we just told you. If you take a look and still refuse, then there’s not much we can do. But you have no idea what he risked to get this out of Destroido. We owe it to him to use it… Please, Dr. Blake…”

Daisy’s eyes were narrowed and her lips were pursed, tapping one manicured nail against her crossed arms. Thinking. Then finally, she looked over at her fiance. Steve shrugged his shoulders with a look that said ‘I’m kinda curious not gonna lie…’ And Daisy rolled her eyes to the ceiling with an exasperated sigh. “Fine. We’ll have a look. But no promises.”

“Thank you,” Lewis sighed. “Now Velma, if you would please get out your computer, I’ll leave this with you and we’ll be waiting in the van. Give us a call when you’re done or if you need anything.”

“Wait- where are they going?” Steve asked. 

“You seeing that footage is us using it as intended, and Ricky gave them permission to see it. Not us,” Vivi shrugged. “It’s only right to honor his wishes.”

Velma waited a few moments for the Mystery Skulls’ retreating footsteps to disappear altogether before she opened her laptop, plugged the drive into the port, and began typing away to access its files. 

And then, there it was. 

File after file after file, letters and numbers stark white on a black background. Hours worth of footage, just waiting to be played. “Holy- Jinkies, there it is,” Velma said shakily. 

“What? Have you not even looked at it yet?” Daisy scoffed. 

“We only just acquired this footage last night, and the contents are some sensitive stuff,” Daphne said. 

“Like there’s so much of it. Where do we even start?” Shaggy (still in Arthur’s body) asked. Daisy, who paid little attention to her sister’s friend group, didn’t pay his appearance any mind.

“And before we do… is everyone here ready to see this? And do you want to?” Fred asked his friends. “We don’t really know what we’re about to see, and it’s like the Mystery Skulls said - it’s our choice who in our group does. If any of you walk out now, I won’t judge.”

“Like… I feel like we owe it to Arth- to Mr. E to see it, after how hard he worked to get this to us,” Shaggy gulped. “And like- Ricky said he wanted us to see it… so like yeah. I’m not going anywhere,” Shaggy said. 

“Ree too,” Scooby nodded. 

“In spite of everything that’s happened… I feel like I need to see this,” Velma agreed. 

Daphne and Fred looked at each other and came to the same silent agreement as the others: they weren’t going anywhere. 

“Right… as to where we start,” Velma said, “It looks like Ar- Mr. E and Marcie have made a small legend at the top of the file list for things that happen in each video, and each one has a title and description too.”

“What’s the first video say? Is that when… it first happened?” Daphne asked nervously. 

“I don’t think so. Look at the legend,” Velma pointed out. “He’s used a small icon that looks like a red circle to indicate each time the remote was used, and there isn’t one on the first video.”

“There are icons there though,” Scooby said. “Rut do those mean?” Scooby was talking about two icons beside the video’s title - “Confrontation1” The first one he was pointing to was spiky, orange, and yellow. Like a collision. The next was a man’s head, his mouth open and lines coming out, like he was talking. 

Their eyes wandered to the legend. 

💥 Physical abuse.  🗣️ Verbal abuse. 

Velma hit play. 

The video started out with Mr. E - the real Mr. E, still in his own body, sitting in front of his monitors. Velma recognized at once where it was - on his island office in the middle of his dramatic-ass shark moat. 

“Who’s that?” Daisy asked. 

“Your patient,” Fred said.

“That’s Ricky Owens?” Steve balked. “Damn - he let himself go.”

“It’s called depression and it happens to people when they suddenly lose everything at age seventeen,” Daphne snapped. And the rest of her friends were glaring at him too. Steve quickly shut his mouth. 

Whatever Mr. E had been up to, the glaring light in the dim room prevented any of them from making it out on the screens. But he jumped and quickly turned it off when Professor Pericles appeared onscreen with an angry shout. 

“Ricky! Ricky what have you done?! I’ve been locked out of the system!” 

“I know - I did it on purpose,” Mr. E snarled, rising to his feet. “You’re out of control, Professor Pericles! And I’m putting a stop to it! I’m in charge - I built Destroido from the ground up! While you were cooling your beak in prison! It’s time that I-” 

WHACK. 

The five Mystery solvers went rigid with shock. 

They’d heard about some of the things Professor Pericles had said and done to Mr. E. Seeing it themselves was another matter entirely. And Ricky had never said anything about- he hit him. And when they heard what he said next, their jaws dropped.

“You are in charge of nothing, Ricky Owens! You have never been anything other than an idiotic human mascot! A shoulder for me to perch upon!” 

The Mr. E on the screen was so startled- so genuinely frightened of the very creature he’d deluded himself into seeing as a friend, that he was silent for a long moment. Then he gingerly touched the red side of his face, wincing. “... You don’t mean that,” he said quietly. Pitifully hopeful. Still in denial. Still desperate for something that wasn’t there, and maybe never had been.

Professor Pericles sneered down at him like a bad seed in his bird feed. “You will restore my access by the end of the day.” 

“And if I don’t?” Ricky growled. Stubborn. Trying to be brave when it was clear even through a screen that he was terrified. 

Professor Pericles smiled at him in a way that didn’t reach his eyes. One foot came up to touch Ricky’s large nose with deceptive tenderness. 

Then he dug his talons in. 

Not enough to break the skin, but just enough to hurt. Ricky hissed with pain. “You’re a very valuable egg, Ricky,” Pericles sneered. “I’d hate to have to break you.”

“Pericles- stop. That- ow! That’s enough!” Ricky shouted. He shoved the parrot off of him with a great flapping of feathers as the parrot perched himself on the edge of the chair. Ricky got to his feet before he could regain the upper hand. 

“Restore. My access,” Pericles demanded. 

“Really? That’s all you care about?! You hit me!” Ricky barked.

For a split-second, Pericles’ expression turned positively venomous. But then it softened. “Ricky,” he said in a jarringly tender voice. “How are we to move forward when I don’t have access to our resources? The treasure is at hand. Whatever investment we make in attaining it will be returned to us beyond calculation.” 

“You mean whatever investment I make,” Ricky corrected him. “How much of your own money have you spent, exactly? Or Brad and Judy’s? Why is what I worked for worth so little to you?” 

“Und here I was under the impression you’d grown up,” Pericles tutted disappointedly. “I didn’t realize you were so selfish. Isn’t locking me out rather childish?”

“I- you- shut up!” Ricky shouted! And Mystery Incorporated suddenly remembered what Ricky had said, about how Pericles knew exactly what buttons to push. “Shut up and get out! I don’t want to talk to you- I don’t even want to look at you right now. You want your access back? Earn it back!”

“After everything I’ve sacrificed-” 

“You’ve sacrificed?! What about my sacrifices? You’ve cost me everything, and still you find more to take.”

“Vögelchen… You told me once that I was family. Does that mean nothing to you?”

“Did it mean nothing when you betrayed me?! But unlike you, yes. It means something. But that doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven you or that I trust you. Not for back then, and certainly not for that shit you just pulled. Now get out.”

“I’m not going anywhere until you stop acting like a child!”

“Fine! Then I’ll leave! There’s plenty of places for me to go! It’s my house!” 

“Don’t you turn your back on me, Ricky Owens!”

“Watch me!”

And Ricky wasn’t kidding. Mr. E stormed over the bridge, went out a side exit, and when Professor Pericles tried to follow a steel door slammed shut within an inch of his beak. 

Then Professor Pericles was alone. But the video wasn’t over yet. He flew back over to the island and perched himself on the top edge of that ring of monitors, looking up at the fish swimming in the lake above. What he said next couldn’t be heard very well, with how quietly he was speaking and the way German was mixed in. But they could make out this: “My Master… my master was right. Mein Vögelchen ist only human after all… no different from…” 

He was staring off into space when the video ended. 

They stared at that last frame for several long moments. Visibly unsettled. 

“Well- um- that was-” There were holes in Daisy’s unbothered facade. “So like- I guess he really is Ricky Owens, huh?”

“That was definitely the same parrot…” Steve muttered. “Knew he gave me the creeps.”

“Like um… that was like…” Shaggy stuttered.

“Yeah,” Fred said. None of them even had the words. 

“I didn’t see any torture though…” Daisy scoffed. 

And even if the way she said it was insensitive, she was right: they hadn’t seen what they needed to just yet. 

The second, third, and fourth videos, according to their captions, were of Brad and Judy conspiring with Professor Pericles against Ricky. There wasn’t any footage of Ricky going to Brad and Judy with his plan to turn on Pericles, as he’d been smart enough to avoid the cameras in case Pericles was monitoring them. But because the others weren’t nearly as familiar with the placement of the cameras as Ricky, a lot of their activities were on camera. Which added yet another layer to the tragedy: if Ricky had only checked his footage at the right time, what happened to him next could have been avoided. 

Then, along with video evidence of their verbal conspiracy, there was a short clip of the Original Mystery Incorporated having dinner together, and Arthur had managed to find the exact moment Brad’s hand moved nonchalantly over Ricky’s drink. Then when it cut to the end of the meal, it showed Ricky walking with a slight stagger into the hallway where his rooms were apparently located, unaware he’d clearly been drugged. Then there was a clip with a timestamp about two hours later of Brad, Judy, and Pericles entering that same hallway with a briefcase, then leaving thirty minutes after that. But there weren’t any cameras in the rooms themselves or joining hallways, so there was no footage of them actually committing the crime.

Then there was the seventh video.

The first one with a big red circle beside its’ title:

“Confrontation2+Confession 🔴”

Velma clicked on it. 

Again, it was on that central island in Mr. E’s lair. Ricky was pacing to and fro across the floor, arms crossed, while Brad and Judy stood side by side watching him as if they hadn’t committed an unforgivable sin just the night before. 

“He’s late,” Ricky griped. 

“You know he shows up when he means to,” Judy said. “I’m sure he’ll be here soon, don’t you think Brad?”

“Right you are, Judy. You know he’ll be looking to get his system access back, and making you wait isn’t the way to do it, Ricky.”

“Suppose you’re right…” Ricky grumbled. And he looked proud. Proud of himself for standing up to Pericles for once. Happy that he still had two old friends who had his back. Hopeful that after this, things would be better. That they’d change their approach, and no one else would have to get hurt once he took the reins back.

The new Mystery Incorporated were on the edge of their seats.  Daphne was holding Fred’s hand, Shaggy and Scooby were hugging each other, and Velma was anxiously tapping her heel. Even Daisy and Steven, who weren’t involved yet, were tense. There was a sort of hopelessness to watching this footage. Like watching a train wreck: they all knew how it ended.

Then Pericles arrived. 

He landed with a flutter on the edge of a desk beside Brad and Judy. And when he spoke his voice was jovial, yet his remaining green eye glinted with malevolence.

“Ricky. Brad. Judy. Do forgive my tardiness. Now Ricky, what did you need to interrupt my work to talk about?” 

“This isn’t a talk, Professor Pericles. It’s an intervention. Things can’t continue as they have.”

“Oh? Und how have they been?” Pericles asked. And there it was - that hostility. Almost a ‘how-dare-you?’

“As you know, I’ve revoked your system access.”

“Ja. And you still haven’t returned it, as I told you to.”

“And there it is!” Ricky exclaimed. “You can't order me to do anything, Professor Pericles. When I agreed to this partnership, it was a part-ner-ship. That means you and I. Working together towards a common goal, each respecting the other. But you haven’t respected me or anything of mine since almost the beginning. You have spent tens of millions without my permission on plans that you have gone through with behind my back. You have poked your beak into parts of my life and business that don’t concern you and I didn’t want you in. And overall - you have gone too far. It isn’t just the expenses that bother me. The collateral damage of your last few schemes have been insane.”

“Bah! One cannot make a genius omlette-”

“‘-Without breaking a few worthless eggs.’ Yeah - that’s what you keep saying. But you know what? People aren’t eggs. By the time you actually told me about that ridiculous skull cattle plan of yours, you’d already spent a fortune making them. Then by the time we expunged what was left of them out of my company, they had eaten twenty-nine of my best scientists. And at least forty of my other staff. My people, Pericles. People with families who I was responsible for. I told you I thought it was insanity, but did you listen? Their deaths are on me because I didn’t stand up to you sooner. Not to mention all the casualties in Crystal Cove, or the homes and businesses they destroyed. All for a plan that didn’t even work! I don’t care how much of my money you’d already spent on those creatures. I should’ve had them all killed the minute I found out about them!”

“But you didn’t,” Pericles said. “You’re judging my sins, Mister E? Then you're a damn hypocrite. What if not blood is your kingdom built upon, Ricky Owens? All you are is a false king sitting on a throne of poisoned land and ruined lives!” 

“YOU THINK I DON’T KNOW THAT?” Ricky roared. “YOU THINK I LIKE THE PERSON I’VE BECOME? When I was a boy, I had a different dream for this company. I wanted…” But then Ricky gritted his teeth and looked away. “Nice deflection,” he grumbled. “But I’m not letting you do that this time. Because I might be a piece of shit, but we’re not talking about me. We are talking about you: Out of control and out of your damn mind. But you know what? I can see it on your face. I could talk myself hoarse, but you’re not listening.”

“My ears are working just fine, Vögelchen.”

“Don’t. Call me that,” Ricky seethed. “There is a difference between hearing and listening, Pericles. And if you won’t listen to me, then you’ve not left me with much choice: Get out. And I don’t mean out of the room this time. Get out of my home, out of my company, out of my life. I can’t exactly make you leave Crystal Cove, but us? I’ve talked to Brad and Judy about it already, and we’re all in agreement: you’re done. Out.”

“Out? You think you can banish me?” Pericles smirked. 

“Yes. I do. Destroido is mine. So you see Professor Pericles, it’s over! You’re not the boss here, I am! And you’re out of the group!”

The camera caught Pericles pulling a big red button out of a pocket in his scarf and there came a collective gasp of horror. 

The instant Pericles pushed it, Ricky’s body froze in a position that wasn’t natural. His eyes widened with shock. Horror. Confusion. In so much pain he couldn’t even muster the breath to scream.

“Oh Ricky, Ricky,” Pericles tutted. “My loyal Brad and Judy told me of your little mutiny. So, last night while you were asleep, I put mutated cobra larvae in your spine! Every time I push this button… a little venom is released.”

And there it was. Straight out of his own beak.

They saw it all. They heard Pericles boast about what he was planning to do, and they heard him laugh. They saw Brad and Judy, smirking at one another as if they were proud of what they’d done. And they saw Ricky. They saw him fall to his knees, unable to stand. They heard the sound that found its way through the audio - somewhere between a whimper and a grunt. Then finally, as the torture continued and Pericles still didn’t let up, a damn burst and Ricky cried out!

None of them would ever forget that sound.

He was convulsing, shaking, crying, begging for it to stop, making any number of promises between sobs. 

And Pericles was enjoying it.

That was when Velma slammed the laptop shut with a snap, unable to bear watching a second more. 

Not a soul stopped her or asked to see the rest.

And for a long minute, they were quiet. The silence was only broken by the sounds of Daphne quietly sniffling. Fred was stunned stiff beside her. Scooby was huddled as close as he possibly could to his boy, and Shaggy felt as if he was going to be sick. As for Velma? She was thinking. Thinking so much so fast that her brain was overwhelming itself. Or perhaps not. It was more like her brain was so horrified that she couldn’t conjure any thoughts at all. Silently, she put both feet up on Daisy’s expensive leather couch and hugged her knees to her chest, still staring at the closed laptop. 

They would wonder to themselves later, if they lost something when they watched that footage. 

Subsequently, they would also wonder what they gained. 

Either way, they got what they came for.

Daisy left the room. 

She straightened her back, arms crossed, and briskly yet gracefully walked out of the room, her heels clicking against the tile. Looking almost as disturbed as his betrothed, Steven rushed out after her. 

They didn’t come back for a very long time.

And there it is! Chapter 25! I know I promised to post it on Sunday and I'm technically posting it on Monday, 2am isn't thaaaat late, right? I spent all day working on revisions and that lllovely little piece of fanart that I put so much of my heart and soul into. (My one regret is that Tumblr is going to condense it so, SO much 😑) I was having a really good conversation with @angorwhosebabyisthis a while back about SDMI, specifically about Ricky, Pericles, and their relationship, and they pointed out to me that the way Pericles physically abuses Ricky using a device that he has literally inserted inside of him is quite obviously an allegory for rape. And I'm not going to lie - I had never drawn that comparison before. But once I saw it I couldn't unsee it. And I think it's extremely important that more adult fans do and that it gets talked about in the SDMI discourse. Because if more people have realized it, and I certainly hadn't, then I certainly haven't seen anyone else talking about it and I haven't read about it in any other fics. Likely because in spite of its' extremely adult, dark themes, SDMI is for all intents and purposes a "kids' show." Not to mention it's an extremely heavy and oftentimes taboo topic even among adults. But while it is the former, I don't believe it should be the latter. I rated this fic M for mature from the start and have piled on the angst this much already. So even if it isn't a comfy subject, I saw no reason why it shouldn't be here. All the same, I hope my writing didn't upset or trigger anyone and that anyone disturbed by such things heeded the warnings I put at the beginning of the chapter. SO! On to talking about the rest of the chapter! Any room for doubt the kids may have had is no longer existent. How will what they've seen affect their behavior and actions moving forward? And Cassidy finally has at least some idea of what's happened to Ricky, but how will she react to the full picture? Much less when she sees it. Daisy Blake is a character I've been looking forward to playing with because we saw so little of her in SDMI and what we did see was extremely two-dimensional. Which is one of my favorite characters to write in fanfiction because it means I can do whatever interpretation of her I want, and who's to say I'm wrong? Not to mention Daphne's complicated relationship with her family in SDMI is an interesting dynamic to explore. Same goes for Daisy's dear fiance Steve, who for all intents and purposes doesn't actually exist in the canon of SDMI. All that is canonically known of "Daisy's fiance" is that he is rich and a neurosurgeon. That is it. He's basically an OC. I literally said to myself, "What is the first basic af white boy name I can think of? Steve. And what's the first sorta fancy and less-than-common surname I can think of? Poindexter." (As in Benjamin Poindexter, aka Bullseye, the Marvel villain.) And so it was. I got sidetracked into another project (look sometimes autism makes you spend three days on cross stitch, okay?) so I unfortunately haven't gotten more than a few paragraphs into chapter 26 of One of Us. So while I do hope to have it done by next Sunday as I hope, I also can't make any promises. But rest assured I do have a plan, and I intend to have it to you as soon as I can. And people... please go onto my ao3 and leave comments on my fic there once the chapter posted. Seeing the number go up on my inbox and getting to read your words means more to me than you know. Chapter 25 should be posted to ao3 tomorrow morning, and it definitely will be tomorrow afternoon.

Last thing: a while back I said I would be starting a tag list for One of Us, and unfortunately I forgot about it when I posted Chapter 24. So sorry about that. Here's to all my readers who either asked to be tagged when new chapters are posted, or liked that post. Cuz I can't tell if liking it was asking to be added to it or not and I wouldn't want to leave anybody out. If you want to be added to this list or want to be removed from it, then feel free to DM and let me know!

@void-lioness @nikicherry1234 @angorwhosebabyisthis @lunasummers04 @orithereticent @mysteryskullsblog @the-moogle-of-your-nightmares @sfcabanasstarcgs

Chapters 1-24 of 'One of Us' are presently posted on Archive of Our Own!