#i shall add my commentary in keep reading from now on

[isabellehemlock]

Kat's Catholic Commentary - Part (I've lost track)

My focus for this episode will be on Lestat's speech in his parting letter to Louis.

The purpose behind the letter may vary depending on when it was written (before or after Lestat knew of Louis’ plan of betrayal).  However, my focus is on the language used - specifically “the veil” - and why my Catholic senses were tingling.

But first - the disclaimer:

This is purely a fan meta/theory.  Even when I talk about character motivations with some certainty, remember it's just my take, not a fact-based declaration.  This helps keep things brief rather than saying "in my opinion" before every other sentence.

All points and takes are valid - this is just one of them.  I'm exploring one potential aspect of Lestat and Louis' relationship, not the whole picture or even trying to suggest it as the main foundation.

Also, there are frank references to the Catholic Church, its history, practices, sacraments, and some Bible verses.  If at any point you need to take a step back for self-care, please do.  Your well-being comes first.

Before diving in, I’ll share why I see a potential for a secondary meaning behind it because I’d like to add some weight to my personal fan theory that Lestat is conscious of how faith is still an integral part of Louis’ identity and how he might use it (however the purpose of this, I’ll leave to the reader).

Several moments in the first season, and some from the books (spoilers ahead if you’d like to avoid events after IWTV), reference Lestat and Louis’ relationship and his faith (and especially with a context of Catholicism):

The entire monologue at the end of episode one as Lestat declares his feelings for Louis in front of the altar.

Lestat’s monologue of Saint Louis (both as an off hand reference in ep 1 and the expanded version of Ep 2 that ends with: “You’re challenge every sunset St. Louis, and I’d have it no other way.”)

After Louis asks about Antoinette in Ep 3, when Lestat is describing the need for various forms of pleasure for “anything that wards off the dungs of the everlasting road we walk” - pauses to point out Louis’ form of pleasure as “Pleasures of the Good Book by the fire for you.”

And then in Ep 6, when Lestat arrives to gift Louis something from his favorite bookshop: “‘The Book of Hours.’  Extremely rare, 15th century.” - the Book of Hours, is also known as the Liturgy of Hours, or Divine Office, used by both clergy, religious and laity alike for daily devotions on a rotating cycle for uniform prayer.

And from the books:

In IWTV, Louis’ reference to following Lestat as a kind of personal Jesus: 

I allowed myself to forget how totally I had fallen in love with Lestat’s iridescent eyes, that I’d sold my soul for a manycolored and luminescent thing, thinking that a highly reflective surface conveyed the power to walk on water. 

“What would Christ need have done to make me follow him like Matthew or Peter? Dress well, to begin with. And have a luxurious head of pampered yellow hair. 

Later, in Prince Lestat, when they are reunited, Louis says (from Lestat's POV): 

He leaned close to me, and he put his hand on my arm. “ ‘Wither thou goest, I will go, and where thou lodgest, I will lodge; thy people shall be my people’; and because I have no other god and never will, you shall be my god.”*

* This quote Louis is saying is from the Book of Ruth: She answered, "Do not be against me, as if I would abandon you and go away; for wherever you will go, I will go, and where you will stay, I also will stay with you. Your people are my people, and your God is my God.” - Ruth 1:16 CPDV

I’ve also shared metas and commentary on Tumblr and Twitter about Louis and Lestat's relationship to faith and the little nods I’ve picked up here and there (more on that below).  But this isn’t intended as a comprehensive summary, just a soft recap to add context for anyone wondering, “how did she read that in this scene?”

Now, onto the main point!  For anyone needing a refresher, here’s the letter in full:

In the event that you are reading this, something dreadful has occurred.  Which is not my own death, but rather, the fact that we both now exist in two different worlds.  Do not waste your life seeking revenge on the person or persons who did this.  Do not give them the satisfaction of the hunt.  Let treachery eat away at them from within.  And you, you go carry on with your living.  Know only this, mon cher: you are the only being I trust, and whom I love, above and beyond myself.  All my love belongs to you.  You are its keeper.  A veil will now forever separate our union.  But it is a thin veil, and I’m always on the other side, face pressed up against your longing.

Setting aside the beautiful writing, the language used, and the sentiments declared (it fed my Words of Affirmation love language meter well), my second thought upon hearing “A veil will now forever separate our union.  But it is a thin veil, and I’m always on the other side, face pressed up against your longing.” was what my Catholic senses were tingling.

In a previous meta I discussed how I viewed the scene of Louis’ turning as a nod to the Sacrament of the Eucharist (though I can also see the other fan theory of the Sacrament of Matrimony).  This furthers my idea of Louis viewing Lestat as a kind of personal Jesus.  Given the examples above, I believe there might have been some intention behind Lestat’s words to reach Louis on a vulnerable level through his faith.

But why would former Catholic altar boy Louis catch that meaning, and what would it mean to him?

In the Catholic Church, the Eucharist is veiled in order to symbolize the mystery and sacredness of the Sacrament.  The veil represents the separation between the divine and the mortal, indicating that the true essence of the Eucharist (Christ's Body and Blood) is hidden under the appearance of bread and wine (and it’s a practice that dates back to early Christianity, where the veil also served to protect the Eucharist from desecration and to enhance the reverence of the faithful during Mass).

As Catholics, we believe that Jesus, at the Last Supper, instituted the Eucharist, when He said, “This is my body, which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me” (Luke 22:19).  He also said, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood, which is poured out for you” (Luke 22:20).  They were declarations to emphasize the sacrificial nature of the Eucharist but also to serve as a message of hope - that there would be an intimate connection between Jesus and His followers, despite His physical absence after His death and resurrection - “And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age” (Matthew 28:20).  

Though death might separate the physical presence, the Eucharist provides a continuous, though veiled, connection with Christ.  This then allows the veil to symbolize hope and assurance that, while there may be a separation, it is thin, with the promise of a deeper, spiritual communion that transcends physical boundaries.

So, if Louis potentially viewed the Dark Gift as a kind of Eucharist that nourishes the soul, given to him through Lestat, then their spiritual interconnection and the nourishment it provided could continue.  His devotion to Lestat would not need to end.

I believe Lestat “I went to a monastery to become a priest” de Lioncourt, knew exactly what he was doing when he used those words to describe how interlinked they would remain.  

This furthered Louis’ (perhaps even subconscious) view of Lestat and Jesus - and himself as potentially Judas (meta here, and here), though I personally enjoy the view of Louis identifying with Mother Mary the most (visual reference and poem, art and another art piece here).

Whether intentional or not, or perhaps a completely different point that I read too much into (which can definitely be the case lol), it spoke to me on a deep level when I heard it.  I’d like to believe it did for Louis as well. 

[whatisthismandoinghere]

So I’ve watched a good chunk of seasons 3 and 4 of Laramie as well as a few from season 1 and I am now gonna make it all yall’s problem and bless you with my commentary and clips from each episode, enjoy I guess 😂

Without further ado, S1.EP1 Stage Stop

Not the outlaw being upset they spelled his name wrong in the newspaper 😂

Jess’s introduction to Laramie was absolutely terrible, poor guy just got shot at. Absolutely love how he just ignored the lawman when he was told to stop though, a very Jess thing to do 🤣

Jess and Slim’s first meeting is one of the funniest things I’ve ever seen. Let’s take a look at it, shall we?

I mean the first shot alone where they show the sign “Sherman Ranch, No Trespassing” and then cut to Jess just lounging around like he owns the place 😂 

And the dialogue:

Slim: What’re you doing here?

Jess: Gettin’ a crick in my back!

Plus this gem:

Jess: I had 3 or 4 swallows out of your private stream. My horse helped himself too, so you just figure out what I owe you, and I’ll be on my way. Oh, and uh, I looked at a bird flying over. Will there be a charge for that?

Look Jess I love you so much but who gave you the right to be so freaking sassy 😂 (we adore him for it though) but Slim had valid concerns, I see both sides of the situation here. I mean Jess, you should’ve read the sign, and I can see why Slim is wary of strangers, but I too would be ticked off if someone just showed up and was holding me at gunpoint

Not Jess just sending Slim flying 😂 boy don’t mess around

Overall I think this first meeting went really well you guys

Andy is so flipping adorable and I would die for him, the way he just gets along so well with Jess right off the bat 😭 10x funnier that he’s Slim’s brother though 🤣

Look at the racoon! And the way Andy washed his food for him 🥺 it's so cute how this little gesture shows how much he knows about animals and how much he cares for them

When Jess dozed off and Andy came in and startled him and he just whipped around with his gun and when he realized it was Andy and he was so apologetic 😭 but just gets me thinking about Jess being a loner and a drifter and being so used to looking out for himself yet still being so compassionate to this kid he just met. He’s so good with kids and I think it’s just darling seeing him interact with Andy and later on Mike.

Ugh I’m having so many Thoughts on Jess’s childhood, of course they are of the angsty variety, all prompted by these lines of dialogue (putting them in different colors so it's easier to differentiate between them):

Andy: Jess, how old were you when you first went out on your own?

Jess: Can’t hardly remember when I wasn’t on my own, like Jeremiah here and Sam. Only I didn’t find a soft touch like you. Maybe I didn’t want one. 

Andy: Do you like it better alone?

Jess: It just worked out that way.

Andy: Don’t you get lonely sometimes?

Jess: You get used to it.

As if these lines weren't heart breaking enough, Jess's tone of voice and facial expressions just really added to it. Yes there will be fics in the future no I do not need more wips

Jess had a fractured skull you say?? *adds to list of details to keep in mind for later*

Look at them playing cards together <3 yes I totally get that Andy's complete and total willingness to trust anyone who comes along is a bit concerning but it's also so sweet and I just love how he interacts with Jess

The way Andy was just working up the courage to ask Jess to take him with him and Jess being so gentle and telling him maybe when he’s older their relationship is everything you guys 😭

I know at times Slim seems a little harsh on Andy but he really just wants the best for him and it’s sweet. 

Love how Jonesy just deescalates the situation so smoothly and just calmly drags Slim away 😂

I’ve noticed that Jess gets called saddle tramp an awful lot so I’m starting a running count, we are currently at 1

Jonesy saying Slim is just a kid is just… it’s kinda funny but at the same time - how do I want to explain this? - like Slim is out here saying Andy needs to get things figured out, needs to become a better judge of character, and then Jonesy is just like “you’re figuring things out too pally. you’re responsible for your kid brother now and you still got some things to learn” You can see that Jonesy knows Slim really well and I love their dynamic

Jess was so ready to end Slim right then and there 😂 what can I say, I like my men violent 🤣 seriously tho the fact that Jess and Slim were just constantly beating each other up throughout this entire episode before they decided to try running a ranch together is the funniest thing

Everything about Bud Carlin irritates me, the way he speaks, the way he moves, his whole demeanor, I just hate it 😂

When Carlin’s asking about how long it takes the stage to get there once it’s in sight and Jonesy’s just out here throwing in a bunch of random circumstances to avoid answering 🤣 and then Carlin gets so irritated that he decides to ask Jess instead lol but Andy just immediately telling him what he wants to know so Jess doesn’t get hurt 😭 bless his little heart AND JONESY REACHING HIS ARM OUT TO GRAB THE GUY WHEN HE WENT TO PUNCH JESS Jonesy's a real one

When Jess and Andy are out in the barn shoeing the horse and Andy tries to grab a rifle and Jess stops him cuz he didn’t want him to get hurt 😭

Oh when Carlin makes Jess punch Slim in the face… like we know they were about to go at it when he walked in but now Jess is like no way, the friendship is progressing you guys, and poor Slim was just like "do it", somebody get this poor man some ice and an ibuprofen

But as soon as Carlin makes Jess hit Slim that third time he turned on Carlin so fast

Andy’s voice was almost breaking when he saw Slim laying on the ground and he was trying to wake him up and it almost broke me 😭

The way they all go to check on Slim as soon as the guy leaves the room 🥺

Andy was just begging Jess to go with Slim so that he’d have some help and Jess wouldn’t go and then Andy has tears in his eyes and says “No wonder you travel alone, who’d wanna team up with a saddle tramp like you?” nooooooo 😭 I really act like I’ve never seen this episode before also Jess saddle tramp count is now at 2

They really just threw that guy out of the stagecoach, that wasn’t very nice

JESS CAME BACK yes I already knew this would happen, hush your timing is impeccable pally

Look at these idiots (affectionate) 😂

Alright I'm gonna write out this scene for you because Reasons (once again in color so it's easier to differentiate):

Pete: I’m hurt bad, Jess. Don’t shoot.

Jess: I was hurt bad too. And it wasn’t just the money Pete.

Pete: I didn’t take it Jess. I swear I didn’t

*Pete proceeds to grab for his gun and Jess shoots him again, sending him flying off the cliff*

So satisfying yall also that dialogue though, I sense another fic in the future

Not the fanning of the guns, ugh I hate when they do that and Jess does it all the time

I love how Jess just puts his gun away and lets Slim deal with Carlin on his own, the way he just saunters over while they’re fist fighting and the way they replay the bit Carlin pulled on them when he made Jess hit Slim, sheer perfection 🤣

Aw Andy was so excited to see Jess and Slim back safely 🥺

Friendship has been established pallies, that is what we call ✨character development✨

Also if you haven’t noticed I’m a tad bit obsessed with Jess ok maybe more than a tad so here’s some bonus gifs of him being sassy 😂❤️

[polysprachig]

Pardon me as I prepare to intrude my thoughts on language learning upon the public (again).

I’m working on taking myself less seriously and getting over what I like to call *nonsensical, self-inflicted recording stress*. Hence the one-take and post method I’m trying to experiment with on tumblr dot com in which I read and comment on my ***polyglot journal***.

WIP, unbeta’d, off-the-cuff. 🧿💙  

Transcript below (Orange = Speaking/commentary, Blue = Written commentary, White = Reading)

In the spring of 2020 I decided to write a detailed book on all of the language learning activities that I was doing. As I look here at page 27 of the book itself—it's pretty long; there are still blank pages—I can see several things. The one is a general overview, together with my own commentary about what I did wrong right from the off. 

[Reads] In which I accidentally bite off far more than I can chew, determine to do too much, establish a routine check in system and throw organization to the wind. Includes: Irish, Greek, German and Middle English; the Merlin project in its infancy, plus voca; a note on colour-coded translation exercise; a start to translating authors whose work I know; and the initial return to reading historical verse, which means, generally speaking, [whispers] Chaucer. The overwhelming theme is to consider what core vocabulary and skills I will need to accomplish the activities described, with special emphasis on trying the first ... to first rely on my own language skills in a—in an in almost Test -Teach slash Test-Check manner.

Now let's see how it starts. 

During the summer season I have decided to focus my language learning efforts on my productive skills, those being speaking, writing, translation and the creation of new materials. At the center of this decision burns the desire to spread the seeds of my knowledge of different languages to others and espouse the personality of fire to keep my learning active, invigorating, and all consuming. This trimester of learning—Yes, I can count, I just really like the word trimester (it's technically a semester) from May through to the end of August, is meant to prevent me from becoming too lethargic in my study habits. I shall focus predominantly on Irish, with approximately three lessons per week scheduled with various teachers—hilarious— in the hopes of levelling up within 3-6 or even 8 months—this timeline is still up to debate depending on various factors such as finances, travel, quarantine status and miscellaneous slash other. My secondary main languages are Greek, German and Middle English—[Laughs] Sorry, reading it now is hilarious to me because I already know what happens, and now I know where I am in my studies and we're ... we're basically back at this point, but in a better way. Okay, let's not jump ahead of ourselves—So, my secondary main languages are Greek, German and Middle English. In these languages I aim to create one to two significant works of translation—wow—and/or auditory material. My main goal is to drastically avoid using the Internet—best of luck with that—and other electronic digital tools to aid me, with the exception of the online Greek-English Dictionary (until I have purchased my own dictionary in Greek)—I should add a footnote here: I have got my grandfather’s print dictionary and Greek and it is from the 1920s and I need a ... updated one. Anyways—and the Middle English corpus as necessary. Moreover, I should hope to complete some written exercises and short writings in Hebrew, Italian and possibly even French.

Correct me if I'm wrong: too much is going on in this section, and as we'll see, it just gets worse. 

Stay tuned next time to find out the mistakes I made, but also the benefits I experienced in trying to learn multiple languages at the same time and, especially, improving those levels at multiple times (???) without having the firm foundation necessary to actually complete that type of an activity. Ohh so many things to go over. I'm very excited. See you next time!

-polysprachig

[hlvrai-stuck-together]

Welcome to the Stuck Together AU!

Gonna try to keep this short. The AU is a HLVRAI fan AU run by @dimonds456 or @dimonds456-but-only-hlvrai. Takes place post-canon, with the ACAB stream being canon and the Cast Commentary "cutscenes" not being canon.

This is an askblog! Rules are simple; send an ask, someone answers. As the showrunner, I'll decide which ones I wanna answer and in what order, which is what will be best for the AU. If I don't answer you right away- or at all- it's not personal, I swear. Just how it shook out.

Read from the beginning here!

Join the Discord Server here!

Trigger warnings, DNI, and tags under the cut.

Trigger Warnings - Trauma - Electricity - Body horror (potentially) - Nightmares - Unreality - Blood (potentially) - Water / drowning - Implied / referenced child abuse / experimentation - Discussion of depression and sui - More to be added

DNI - Proshippers and whatever weird names y'all are using now - Trump supporters / fascists / bigots - "the RTVS gang are literally their characters so-" stop it. no they are not. - Transphobes, homophobes, aphobes, ableists, ect. Just be open-minded basically, peace and love

Tags - Specific character tags will be #asking [name] - Parts will be tagged as #part [#] or #part [#] story - This AU is tagged as #stuck together au or #st au - Other art is #st au art and #st au fanart - Anything OOC from me will be tagged as #dimond speaks - Triggers shall be tagged as #[thing] or #tw [thing]- both tags will be used for the same post to ensure safety

You may ALWAYS ask me to tag things that trigger you. If it's highly specific, we can make a specific tag just for you as well (my friends use #dimonds don't look for me!). There is absolutely no shame in it, I will not get mad or make fun of you, and you don't have to explain yourself if you don't want to. I'm dead serious, we're here to have fun! Let's do that!

I am also going to try and remember to add an ID to every image I post, but if I miss one, let me know! It was on accident and I wanna make sure this AU is as accessible as it can be. Most IDs will be for sprites, but there will be comics and other art sometimes as well.

K, I think that covers it! Welcome to Stuck Together!

[somelokivariant]

“fallen of god”

dec 4 2021 - 90 min 

Every art piece has a deeper message right? Here's what we can learn from this one: the artist doesn't know wing anatomy my angels got bat wings but i was too far to turn back and i kinda like how it looks

the name of the piece: “iel” means of god and “cast” means to fall

im so funny im drawing his face and im like aight i need a reference wheres hes looking s t r a i g h t  into the camera and then i was like lol thats gonna be hard considering hes as gae as his rainbow wings

around 90 min: i dont time this shit properly

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 4/5/22

work is a slog, weather is bad, life is a fuck. let’s talk about some media

listening Simply Vibing to this, which according to google translate is Prayer by the band Kassiopeâ. it has a little bit of the vibe of Blondie’s Call Me? it sounds like a modern cover of an eighties song but it’s already a modern song. hope this helps. VERY strobe-y music vid, be forewarned.

the lyrics are very fairytale-impossible, like again idk if this is an accurate translation of part of the lyrics but fuck it’s good

Give me the grace of a cheetah Myocardial elasticity Perfection of all kinds To fall in love with your enemies! Perhaps this is impossible!

i want to know more about this band and what specific old movies they are pulling from and why they reference Mephistopheles and why there are so many animal parts in this song and what it’s About but alas. 

how did i find this: either spotify weekly recommended or it started playing an automix after i listened to a single and i didn’t notice.

reading do you people enjoy when i link a Bideo James article and break it down/add my own commentary or is that not fun? can’t tell, haven’t read a real book in a minute.

anyway there are exactly two other video games data pundits whose work in data i respect and mr joost van dreunen is one of them. here’s an interesting look at the playstation subscription service offering, which does feel half-baked and like they didn’t want to announce it quite yet. the tiers are extremely confusing- i tried to summarize them in one powerpoint slide for a client and ended up with a footnote on the main slide instead like “varied tiers of offerings similar to GamePass”.

now the fun thing about console gaming is that consoles are typically sold at something of a loss. the real money is in the games, especially the first-party exclusives (the ones you can Only play on a specific platform, like Breath of the Wild, bc once you’ve gotten people over the big purchase of a console they’re more likely to buy more games for it). the real money is also now in the subscription services. everyone wants to be the Netflix of Games.

playstation’s offering isn’t QUITE like gamepass, even though they feel similar. as mr joost points out, right now the games available on playstation’s service tend to NOT be the most modern battlepass lootbox stuff that keeps gambling addictions satisfied (my words not his). since they ARE offering a nice buffet of older PS2 and PS3 games, this implies good things for video game preservation, and i think if they spun it more as a Criterion Collection of restored/remastered/pulled out of the archives stuff they might get a little more traction? who could say. much remains to be seen &tc

how did i find this? read it for work.

watching our flag means death: not pinging my Sea Longing in the way black sails does bc it is so obvious they are not on a real boat? like i am thinking of it more as a stage play than anything else? i am oddly cranky that it’s not black sails, but nothing will ever be black sails. this was perfectly fine and fun! tailored in a very specific way for fandom in a way i cannot articulate, in the way that some movies are oscar bait this show was fandom bait? but not in a malicious way, i think mr waititi simply knows what he’s about?

playing deeply annoyed bc i was very excited for NORCO, a moody narrative point and click game in the louisiana lowlands, but the themes have turned out to be. shall we say. Emotionally Difficult for me. so i did a thing i hate which is request a refund, but made it super clear in the refund note that the problem was me and not the game. shoutout to games that DO put their biggest trigger upfront with a warning, wish they did it for more than just the one tho.

in other news i have GOT to find a new fucking game to turn my brain off that’s not fallout 4, bc i put like a hundred hours into this run with the objective of getting more achievements and have fallen off at the same point i did last time (rummaged around in a brain, didn’t meet the brotherhood bc fuck those guys) and i am simply not compelled by the main quest and i am no longer having fun with the game. i am finding it oddly difficult to make my own fun in that game this time around, outside of settlement building.

anyway look at this screenshot from the most extreme southwestern corner of the map, where you can very very faintly make out the brotherhood airship in the distance. should have centered it but i did not, a bit up and to the left of the center dot.

and this slightly better shot. i do like watching the vertibirds limp home. dont you fucking DARE crash into my goddamn base tho

spent most of this run unlocking all the settlements and spent like fifty hours in nuka cola world, which is an extremely robust little dlc. maybe i’ll give far harbor a crack tonight, although i vaguely remember actually finishing that one. still haven’t finished nuka cola world bc i do like gage but it’s mmmm impossible for me to justify doing a slaver/raider playthrough. why (i mean i know why but WHY) are the east coast games so obsessed with owning slaves. it’s not great. the biggest and most robust questline aside from the main in fo3 is the goddamn slave trader one. you functionally own clover and charon.

making part of a making update, part of a life update: i will be moving sometime between NOW and END OF JUNE (upside down smiley face) partly bc i have learned that i simply cannot deal with living with other people any longer and especially with cannot deal with living with other people five years younger than me. i do not currently actively wish my worst roommate harm but that could change at any moment.

so making will probably DRAMATICALLY slow down bc i am no longer inclined to put any effort into this apartment. the making this week is i guess pre-grieving this apartment. a good refuge while i had it :(

evil lair 2.0 here we come?

[aggressive-positivity-network]

do any of the mercs play board games?

Mercopoly (Board Game

Headcanons)

Scout:

You think he has enough of an attention span to play something that doesn’t involve sweating out his energy drinks?

Hell no!

He gets very bored very quickly, especially with something complex like chess.

He’ll play cards sometimes, but only Crazy Eights and Go Fish - that’s all he knows how to play.

However, there is one true board game he plays occasionally: Candy Land.

It’s one of the few board games that you don’t really have to read the rules for, and there isn’t any writing on the cards.

However, he only asks to play it when he’s not feeling very well.

Medic even has a page in his medical journal for the mercs that says, and I quote:

“The Scout has an extremely short attention span, and if an activity isn’t active or immersive, he will not stay long. If at any point he chooses a sedentary activity, a check-up is in order.”

As sad as it is, a request to play Candyland is a good way to know if Scout needs a little extra reassurance or support.

By the end of the game, Scout usually feels more himself, whether he wins or not.

Engie is especially good with Scout when he’s this way, being the one of the most emotionally sensitive of the group. But he also knows Scout would never admit straight-away how he was feeling, so he usually has a more fun way of getting answers.

“You feelin’ more like a King Candy or a Lord Licorice?”

“...Fudge Monster.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Yeah...”

Spy:

If you ask him, he will most likely go off on a tangent about chess, and how it’s a game of strategy, deception, and crushing your enemy with your wit.

He scoffs at any other game, and constantly makes fun of several of his more intelligent peers for finding interest in them.

“You are mercenaries. Blood-thirsty killers of men. And you are playing ‘Hungry, Hungry Hippos’ like a hoarde of kindergartners?”

But one thing he cannot resist is Sorry.

He considers it above normal board games because it has strategy - or at least that what he says.

He actually just likes it because it’s a game of revenge, which is like a drug to him.

He’s gotten so good at it that if he asks you to play Sorry with him, it’s almost guaranteed that he’s mad at you and just wants to let off some steam by giving you a horrendous loss. However, occasionally, he’s the one who loses.

Spy isn’t a poor sport, exactly - he’s too cultured for that - but sometimes his pride outweighs his manners and he convinces himself that the other player cheated through made up signs of deception.

He simply “allows” them to win because he “doesn’t want to make a fuss.”

But god help the unfortunate soul who decides to rub their win in his face.

Sniper had won five games in a row, and it was clear Spy was getting hot under the collar.

Sniper ended their games with a mischievous, “You’ll get ‘em next time, tiger.” and a small pat on his shoulder.

Spy immediately saw red, grabbed Sniper’s hand, and before the aussie knew it, he was against a concrete wall with a butterfly knife to his throat.

“I could kill you right now. Your final cry for Medic will be drowned in blood, and I would leave you here to die a painful, dramatic death. You’ll be replaced with a rusted trash can of a bot until they could grow another clone of you. Every memory will be gone. The team will be shrouded in grief, not because of losing you, but losing what the clone can never have. And I shall bide my time, ask the clone to play the same game, and kill them when they win. Another clone, another kill. And again. And again. And again. You think the Manns give a damn as long as their work is getting done? You will never be able to form a single thought before I spill your blood - caught in an eternal prisoner’s dilemma where you always lose.”

After gathering his bearings, Sniper finally spoke.

“Is this about your takeout?”

Spy scoffed.

“Do you really think - !”

“Tonight, my treat if you don’t kill me.”

Spy squinted.

“Egg rolls?”

“And an extra order of crab rangoon.”

“Your treat?”

“Yep.”

“How do I know you won’t poison me?”

“Chemical test before and after the food arrives.”

“How do I know Medic isn’t in on it?”

“Miss Pauling as a witness and Scout as an overseer. Pauling’s main objective is to keep us alive, and Scout can’t do bloody anything subtle, even if he wanted to. You can also play back the cameras in the lab, if the mood really struck ya.”

Spy held Sniper against the wall for a minute or two while he thought it all over, then let Sniper fall to the ground.

“I don’t need your sympathy, bushman. But you had better keep your end of the deal. I am the only backstabber around here.”

Demo:

Can’t even stay awake long enough to play most board games.

On the rare chance that he’s sober, he, Engie, and Medic like to play Monopoly.

Here’s the thing: you should never ask a drunkard, an engineer, and a sadist genius to play Monopoly together. It will not end well.

They have been playing the same game for years, with new rules in place and physical extensions to the board in order to try and end the game. Every other Friday, they take the weekend to try and finish it.

However, it all ends up fruitless.

Demo is usually the one keeping the peace, since he is the least competitive out of the three. That isn’t to say he isn’t clawing for the win as much as the other two, but he is definitely the least invested. He’s mostly staying out of principle.

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned, ‘s ta ne’er give up, e’en when the goin’s gettin’ tough. Roll the dice, doc.”

Despite his confidence, he’s not even sure what he would do if he or anyone else won. It would seem more like a relief than a celebration.

Medic:

He’s the one who started the Eternal Monopoly game, which has led to some theories that the game itself came straight from hell, and is one of the many punishments used on sinners. The box does smell a bit of brimstone…

He seems to enjoy the chaos that each round brings and the challenge of coming up with new rules to the game. To any outsider, his commentary and directions are complete nonsense.

“According to zhe ‘Calvinball Rule,’ as stated by Engineer, and the ‘Double Kill,’ as stated by myself, since the current time ends vis a three and ve all received at least two kills zhis veek, ve need to double every other roll and whomever loses zhe resulting game of ‘Bim Bum’ vill have to go to zhe Purple Jail.”

The rules and mechanics are like an unholy amalgamation of Monpoly, Sorry, chess, D&D, Bluff, and poker.

However, when Medic isn’t stapling pages of rules together, he likes to play a nice, relaxing game of checkers with Heavy.

Both of them are excellent checker players, but neither of them care who wins.

In fact, they usually talk over the game, taking the other player’s pieces as one of them shares a story from that day’s battle.

They’ve even played while Heavy was in surgery - leading to many unfortunate times when Medic had to fish a piece out of Heavy’s intestines.

One would think that a genius doctor would also have a passion for chess, but he expresses his disdain for it almost every time the checker board is brought out.

“Ach, people think chess is such an intelligent sport. Let me tell you, liebling, it is terribly overrated. If zhe devil can play chess, anyvun can. He might as vell just give souls avay, vis those shaky claws of his.”

Engineer:

Being the engineer, he is usually the one to add to the Eternal Monopoly.

Pieces, board extensions, cards, trivia - it gives him a nice break from all the weaponry.

He’s usually the one who remembers all the mechanics and rules, and serves as the judge if rules contradict each other.

“Alright, now let’s see here…we’ve got the Infinity Loop over here, but now you’ve got the Time Travel card…how many years? Infinite? Ho boy…looks like I’m gonna have to add a Hilbert’s Hotel square somewhere. Hold on…”

Despite his affinity for Eternal Monopoly, Engineer will play almost any board game. He learns new rules and figures quickly, and enjoys the challenges that brings.

However, if he’s particularly burnt out, he likes to take a break by playing Jenga. He and Spy have a friendly rivalry, since Engie can tell which blocks are supporting and Spy has quick fingers.

Spy, oddly, is a lot more amiable losing in Jenga - he knows Engie won’t think less of him - but Engineer hates when the bricks fall over. Not because it means he lost, but because, to him, it’s a failure on his part…even if it was someone else that knocked it over.

He’s made several blueprints for the perfect Jenga game, but has concluded that no human hand could put it into practice.

During one particularly bad day, Engie bumped the table, causing the whole column to come crashing down. Spy had already recovered from the noise, but Engie was still standing there, stone-faced.

His eyes were covered by his goggles, but it was clear he was crying.

Several of his machines had broken on the job, and to him, this was just another egregious mistake.

Spy carefully put the blocks back in the container, and Engie came to his senses.

“I’m real sorry, Spy. Maybe another time…?”

Spy only nodded. He was thinking.

The next time they played, Spy brought out a different container.

Instead of wood, the bricks seemed to be made of a sturdy foam.

“They fall a bit more…quietly,” Spy explained. He dropped one, and it only made a small bouncing sound. “Pyro uses these, but they allowed me to borrow it.”

Engie was a bit skeptical at first, since it was a new material, but he got the hang of it rather quickly. He was almost ecstatic the first time it fell - the blocks barely made any sound at all!

After a few games, Spy had to leave for an assignment. Engie put a hand on their arm.

“Thank ya, Spy. Maybe you ain’t the cold-blooded backstabber I thought you were.”

Spy chuckled, but said little else. He didn’t want to admit that noise sensitivity plagued him as well.

Pyro:

Pyro loves board games, and has quite the collection in their room.

Each plastic piece is at least a little melted, and all the boxes have two or three scorch marks.

Hungry Hungry Hippos, Candyland, and Uno are among her favorites.

He is an absolute beast at Uno, though.

They take each game very seriously, especially when they can convince the whole team to play.

As you can imagine, it’s pure chaos - it even led to a rule in the Merc Guidebook: “When playing Uno with three or more players with the inclusion of a Pyro, at least one Mann Co. representative and/or a mediating Medic must be present.”

Pyro has been known the hide cards, bribe players, or even try to set flame to competition. Playing Uno is almost like a mission, with weapon preparation and Spy posing as other players.

The mercs even have a betting stand that Sniper runs. All parties have lost a lot of money that way.

It’s pretty much the only time outside of battle that the team remembers how cruel and malicious Pyro can be.

Sniper:

Conventional board games aren’t exactly his forté, but he does enjoy a bit of cards every once in a while - Solitaire being his favorite.

He even has a pack of cards in his Sniper Square for that exact purpose. It allows him the pass the time without having to look away from his targets too often.

On occasion, he could be pressed to play poker, but only if the stakes weren’t monetary (i.e candy pieces, crackers, duties, etc.).

His favorite part of every match is shuffling the cards. Pretty much every merc could shuffle cards, but Sniper could make them almost float with how quick his fingers and wrists moved. He always began the game with a new trick he learned, which delighted his fellow players (usually Spy, Engineer, Medic, and Demo).

You could always tell if he had a busy day because he would avoid tricks with too much movement, which would be murder on his sore fingers and hands.

Pyro is currently learning card tricks from Sniper, and show off what they learn at the beginning of every Uno game.

Heavy:

He isn’t a huge fan of the bright, plastic-y board games that Pyro has, although he will play them if asked.

It’s mostly because of how complicated the rules are and the fact there are almost never a Russian translation for the directions.

He always prefers checkers, cards, or mancala, which he almost exclusively plays with Medic because he’s the only one who speaks fluent Russian.

Heavy can play a mean game of mancala, though, and it’s the only game he can beat Medic at.

Soldier:

The only games he will play are Battleship and Uno - but only after Miss Pauling convinced him it was “American enough�� because the game had red, white, and blue cards.

He prefers the electronic Battleship because of the sound effects and voices. However, if it’s out of batteries, he’ll make his own sound effects.

Miss Pauling is the best at pretending to be a commander, so she’s usually the one playing with him - but, sometimes, Demo gets in on the action, too.

[plainlo-inthemorning]

A Loki TVA/Lokane fic. Rating T.

Previously: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 (of 6)

Shine a Light, part 5

He is aware that the love of his life is digging her fingers into his arm and saying his name.

He is aware of Stark standing to his other side, visor off, speaking to someone on the phone. His voice is hard.

But most of all, Loki is aware that all their lives were just changed by a great big terrifying rip in the seam of reality.

Neither Jane nor the Avenger could possibly be completely sure of what they saw. Loki, as much as he desperately wants to, harbors little doubt.

The man he held in a death-grip only minutes ago and who just now disappeared through a doorway conjured out of thin air was somehow … himself.

Another him. Just as the man had said.

After witnessing from afar the double kiss Jane, Loki, who was coming back from a swim, had been more than ready to skip past introductions and just sever the intruder’s head from his body.

But as soon as he had laid hands on him, a torrent of images had flooded his mind – chaotic, confused images that seemed to span past, present, future and beyond.

The shock had made him lessen his grip and the double had used his (his!) magic to throw him off.

With some distance between them and Stark suddenly there as well, Loki had tried to let his rage quell the dizzying realization. Unsuccessfully.

He is still shaking, clutching a dagger in each hand. He drew them instinctively as the other made for the door.

He should have caught him!

“Loki! What did he say?!”

“What?” His thoughts are racing in too many directions to hear her.

“The … man, what was he saying to you?!”

Jane is looking up at him with those beautiful brown eyes, worry and urgency all over her delicate features. Though not fear, Loki notes. His ever-brave wife. Both her hands are now clamped around his wrist.

That thing kissed her.

The daggers disappear and Loki wraps both arms around the mother of his unborn child, almost crushing her to his chest while still staring at the spot where the double vanished.

“It’s okay. It’s okay, love”, he murmurs. He suspects things are very much not okay.

So does Jane, of course.

“Loki, was it … oof, not so tight … “

She wriggles against him, and he remembers his amor. And her condition. He immediately relaxes his arms a bit while letting the leather and metal melt back into the clothes he wore before: Black jeans and a fitted, dusty green t-shirt (his “rockstar outfit”, Jane had called it, when Loki first started switching up his human wardrobe some years ago now). Drops of saltwater still cling to the ends of his slightly curly raven locks.

“Tony! Jane, Loki! What on Earth was that?”

Pepper jumps out of the car parked in front of the house and runs towards them. She must have seen everything as she drove down the road following her flying husband.

“The verdict’s still out, Peps”. Tony nods at Loki. “You wanna chip in here? I just called the boy-scout at headquarters and told him to be on guard for one of the magician’s interns playing a prank”.

Loki shakes his head slowly.

“Unfortunately, I don’t think Stephen had anything to do with this”.

“You’re right, I didn’t”.

All four of them turn around to see the sorcerer step out of a swirling ring of light, his cape billowing around him. The mahogany floor and paneled walls of his Manhattan mansion are briefly visible behind him before the portal closes with a hiss of little sparks.

Strange is wearing an even sterner expression than usual which only adds to Loki’s growing sense of dread.

Tony, however, groans loudly.

“Dude, really? Couldn’t you at least have let us have dinner before party crashing? Not shaming your bachelor lifestyle or anything, but this was couples’ night!”

“Tony!” Pepper hits her husband on the arm.

Strange ignores him.

“I’m afraid the arrival of your surprise visitor indicates that a set of … unfortunate events have been set in motion”.

As always, his voice is as even as if he was reading the weather forecast, but by now Loki has learned to differentiate the (very) subtle nuances between scorn and sincerity. Strange places his hands behind his back and regards them coolly. “I’ve had Wong reach out to Doctor Banner and director Fury. They should be here shortly. Stark, you may want to-”.

Tony narrows his eyes, lip twitching.

“Hey, Bleeker Street, you know I have low tolerance for you showing up and barking orders without giving two f**** for context. How did you even know that something was going down here? By all means, don’t keep us in suspense until the cavalry gets here”.

Strange doesn’t answer, but the way his eyes dart to Jane sends needles through Loki’s heart.

“Let’s go sit down, shall we?” With one eyebrow raised, Strange puts on a suave smile and gestures towards the house. The effect is a little startling.

Jane ducks out from under Loki’s arms. “Jane, don’t you want to-“. She brushes him off.

“Yes, good idea, Stephen. Let’s go sit down”. She motions for Strange to follow. “Welcome to our home. I was actually making drinks before, but I think I need to add a bit more kick to them…”

Her voice is oddly calm, and Loki fights the urge to grab her and magic them both far, far away, not caring that she would be furious with him for making decisions on her behalf.

He’s brought back to the present by an even odder sound as Strange actually chuckles.

Loki is not sure he’s ever heard it before. Then again, it’s not that he really knows Strange when it comes down to it. Like Tony, Loki finds the wizard exceedingly arrogant.

Pepper is the first to follow Jane and Strange across the lawn while Loki and Tony hang back.

“Real ladies’ man when he wants to. Who would have thought”. The billionaire superhero scoffs. His suit has folded itself off and into a briefcase next to his feet.

“Tony-“

“Uh oh. First name basis. So this really is an emergency”.

Loki faces his friend. Often in the past years, as they’ve grown steadily closer outside of “work”, he has secretly marveled at how long they’ve come since someone threw someone else off a building after being called a diva.

And attacking a city with an alien army.

Jane always insisted the two “hotheads” (her word) had a lot in common when not trying to murder one another (be it with weapons or sarcastic commentary), and Loki has to admit she was right. The metal man is fiercely intelligent, and Loki has been enjoying the quick-witted snark between them infinitely more than he ever valued the company of Thor’s band of gullible warrior groupies on Asgard.

“Well?”. Tony is regarding him with eyebrows raised, expectant. “Give me your take on this cause I’m starting to put together some rather outlandish theories myself here that I’m kinda hoping you’ll thwart ASAP”.

Loki draws in a deep breath.

“That thing with Banner at the tower two years ago-“

“Fuck!” Tony exhales, exasperated. “I knew you were gonna say that”. He squints into the distance towards the ocean, his mouth a tight line. It’s a rare day that Tony Stark is caught under a clear blue sky without sunglasses but for once he doesn’t seem to notice.

Loki takes a step closer to him and lowers his voice so they won’t alert the others just yet.

“I told you then and you didn’t want to listen! Everything about Bruce’s story was off. I know he didn’t remember much after Steve took him down, but you all pretty much accused me of trying to get back at him for, well, you know what, and I kept telling you I thought someone had gotten to him! Now-“

Loki searches for the words. It’s beyond absurd.

“That man was a version of me, Tony. I have no idea how, but I felt it. I saw into his mind. It was filled with images from my past and then … other, recent memories. Dark ones. He came from nowhere. Literally. It didn’t feel like a place. I tried to discard it as a trick, you saw that, but…” Loki runs his hand through his moist hair. “Stephen obviously felt something tear open too. And that is not a good sign”.

He has Tony’s full attention.

“Tear open? Could this other you be associated with your old boss? With Thanos?”

Loki winces.

“No, I don’t think he’s involved”, he says sharply. “But I can’t be sure …”

Tony catches his tone pats his shoulder. “Okay, okay. Shake it off. Didn’t mean to suggest anything. Let’s say he’s not. I’d much prefer that, at least until the wizard presents us with an even uglier imminent threat to the universe. Which, judging by the fact that he’s even here, willingly sipping cocktails in your kitchen as we speak, he probably will”.

Tony throws his hands up with a dramatic air.

“And here I thought the most challenging part of this weekend would be to convince you two to come see Hamilton with us in the city next week!”

“Who’s-“

“Never mind. Did you get a look at that gadget your guy was holding? Boy, he looked like an office slave who’d slept under his desk for a month before getting fired, didn’t he? Were you ever into accounting yourself by any chance?”

Loki shuts his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. Immediately he sees the image of the double kissing Jane, his arms wrapped firmly around her supple body. Rage rushes right back through him and his eyes snap open.

“Stark - I can’t. But yes, I did notice the device. It looked like a phone”.

“Yeah, somehow I don’t think it was the new iPhone”.

Tony shakes his head.

“The two of us and we didn’t take him down. Fury’s gonna have our badges”.

//

The director of SHIELD and Bruce Banner arrive barely 15 minutes later through a portal in the middle of the meadow-like lawn, following Wong and both looking grim and out of place as they weave around patches of wildflowers to reach the porch.

“Gentlemen, I trust you’re well”. Loki greets the trio with an only vaguely sarcastic nod as he holds open the screen doors to them, like a good host. Despite what some may still think, he can behave.

He could have just used magic of course, but he figures Banner is freaked enough as it is just by being here. The scientist hasn’t spoken more than five words to him since 2014 and at least three of them were expletives.

Once inside the small living room, Bruce goes to stand by the window and busies himself polishing his glasses with a little too much vigor than seems warranted.

He avoids Loki’s eyes but looks up and smiles wearily as Jane comes over to say hello.

Fury leans against the doorframe to the hallway and crosses his arms, face a closed book, and, by the sound of it, Tony is going through the cabinets in the kitchen trying to find something to spice up Jane’s pre-dinner cocktails.

Pepper is talking to Strange and Wong on the blue IKEA couch (assembled by magic after the attempt to go at it “as a team” turned into a shouting match), and Loki is about to politely ask Strange to please spit it out right this minute, when Jane is next to him, taking his hand.

“We need to talk. Now”.

Her voice is low and steady but her eyes insisting. She squeezes his fingers.

He squeezes back. “Come”.

Loki looks to Fury but he’s focused on Strange who’s listening very closely to something Wong’s saying.

Not letting go of Jane’s hand, he turns towards the kitchen. In the doorway they pass Tony who’s now holding what appears to be a glass of scotch. He must have given up on the gin and tonics.

“Hey, where are you two going? Forget about playing hosts okay, let’s just get started with part two of the evening’s entertainment”.

“In a minute”.

Jane pushes past him, ignoring Tony’s look and dragging Loki with her.

She closes the door behind them.

“Okay, so…” Jane looks around nervously in the small kitchen with the rustic white fronts and old brass handles. She loves that kitchen. They haven’t changed a thing since moving in. Loki reaches for her, but she takes a step back. “Jane, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I should have gotten there faster. Did he …“

“I need you tell me exactly what he said to you”.

She is absentmindedly opening and closing her fists in the way she does when that brilliant astrophysicist mind of hers is working out an intricate problem in the lab.

Or, Loki knows, when she’s about to deliver him bad news.

He clears his throat. “He said he was me. And that something big was happening”. There. “And then he said he was sorry”.

Jane studies his face.

“That he was sorry? For what?”

“He didn’t say. He stepped through the door”.

Jane is quiet and now it’s Loki’s turn to try and read her expression.

“What did he say to you? I assume he pretended to be me …?”

Jane holds up a hand and bites her lip. Loki swallows.

“Loki, when we were staying at the flat in London, after we defeated Malekith…”

“What?” Loki furrows his brow in confusion. “Why are we-“

“The poison from the monster’s blade, it had you slipping in and out of consciousness for days. You were so feverish…”

“Yes, I know. I was there”. Loki’s blood is slowly turning very cold, but he musters a smile. “And you were amazing, love. Although some might say you took adv-“

Jane interrupts him in the middle of his blossoming smirk. A slight blush appears on her own cheeks.

“Yes, um, it’s not about that day”. She gives him a stern look. “The other day, later, when Thor left after you two went and had your, um, talk … there’s something I need to tell you …”

The door to the living room opens behind them.

“Actually, if you don’t mind, Doctor Foster, I would very much like to hear this too”.

Stephen Strange steps into the kitchen. The door closes behind him.

Part 6

[bluefuckboy]

Monster

Gn!reader x Dabi

Meant for it to be cute fluff but somehow it mutated. Reader is a bookstore clerk. Sensitive content.

You never know why people think hitting on the bookstore clerk is a good idea. Sure you’re smart and people have told you you look cute with your messy bun and rimmed glasses that you think make you look like a librarian. It’s not like you wear anything sexy. Just a sweater and your name tag.

Yet the man in front of you is clearly trying to start something as you ring up his purchase. He’s stocky and terribly unattractive. Even his voice is grating.

“I like to think of myself as a book nerd.”

He gives you a smile that makes you wanna barf, but you put on a fake grin and answer like you always do. “Well I hope this book adds to your collection then.”

He looks disappointed as you hand him back the copy of Field Guide to Chicks of the United States. His book choice alone was more than enough to make you disgusted by his advances. You give him another forced smile.

“Have a good day.”

He mutters something under his breath as he takes the book and shuffles off. You drop the façade, pushing your glasses up to rub the bridge of your nose. You love your job, of course, but there are times when you wish you could just disappear among the stacks of books you spend your days in.

You don’t realize there’s another customer in line until you hear a deep voice say, “Trouble with your glasses?”

Your head snaps up as you stutter, “Oh! Sorry. I uh…”

You stop as you make eye contact with the man. His eyes are a shade of blue you’ve never seen before. Your mind immediately goes to a way to describe them, shuffling through synonyms for blue, as that word doesn’t do them justice in the least.

Working at a bookstore, or doing anything with books was something you felt you were made to do. Your quirk gave you the ability to memorize entire novels if you wanted to. They say some people have photographic memories, but in your case, your memory is a filing cabinet of anything and everything you’ve ever read.

You had the dictionary and several thesaurus memorized by the time you were four. You were a voracious reader, and your mind stored each page in it’s own compartment. You could quote the entirety of the formidable, rambling sentence that capped off On the Road as easily as telling someone what you had for dinner last night.

It was a quirk you felt privileged to have and you snapped your fingers loudly when you finally found the right word for the man’s eyes. Cerulean. Specific and almost mysterious. Perfectly fitting for the tall, dark stranger looking down at you with an eyebrow raised.

You flush at his gaze and sheepishly take the book he had set down on the counter. You try to make polite conversation to take away the awkwardness you feel.

“Oh Frankenstein, huh? I love this one.”

“Me too,” the man replies, and for some reason you get chills.

You wish you could see his face. He has most of it covered by a mask, and the hat he’s wearing makes it even more difficult to make out features aside from his eyes. You notice yourself staring at them again and you clear your throat.

“Certainly a classic. I always like to hear what people think of it. Whether it’s more a commentary on morality, or the dangers of scientific progress. Or even the core of humanity as a- oh sorry. I’m rambling.” You smile at your feet. “I just really love this one.”

The man’s eyes turn up slightly as he watches you. “I think it’s more of a tragedy.”

Your eyebrows go up. “Oh? How so?”

“Everyone likes to dissect the representation of the Monster and point fingers at who is the villain. Personally I think Dr. Frankenstein is the real monster.”

His voice gets quieter. “His Monster never asked to be made. He was made to fulfill Frankenstein’s arrogant ambitions. And then, when he’s not good enough, Frankenstein abandons him.”

He huffs out what sounds like a pained laugh and you can’t help but feel he’s speaking from some sort of personal experience. You turn the book over in your hands, trying to formulate a reply.

The man, however, continues, his eyes distant, “Everyone is so quick to judge such a hideous creation. I’m curious as to would they do if they found out who the real monster was?”

He sighs and then hands you the exact amount rung up on the register. As you put your palm out to cup the coins he places there, his fingers brush your skin. It feels unnaturally hot and you quickly clench your hand shut, keeping the cold coins inside.

You go to hand the book to him. He meets you halfway, the sleeve of his jacket riding up as he extends his hand. Your stomach drops as you see a row of thick, surgical staples winding around his wrist, separating the smooth skin of his hand. The flesh covering his wrist is marred, continuing up his forearm into the dark sleeve.

The man must notice your lingering eyes as he takes the book. He puts his hand up, the sleeve falling more, revealing the same warped skin. His face is emotionless as he speaks again.

“Always the monster who suffers. At least he gets to go out in a blaze of glory so to speak.” He lowers his hand and his eyes lock with yours. “If only the agony of the flames could have been felt by the corpse of his creator.”

Your mouth goes dry at his words and you feel your heart speed up. He holds your gaze for another second, then you watch his back as he leaves. As the door shuts behind him you let out a breath you didn’t even know you’d been holding in.

.

A week later you stand in the sea of people staring up at the man on every tv, every screen. You recognize his voice. As if you could ever forget. But now you can see all of him.

You can see all the scars, the countless staples holding him together. His eyes are staring at you, boring into you as you hear the words he’s saying. It’s hard to process the horrible things he’s saying. You want to cover your ears and close your eyes. Get away from the horror being revealed.

But you’re stuck, transfixed as his story echos the words within the pages of Mary Shelley’s masterpiece of fiction. You almost wish this was the same. But you know it’s real. It’s a reality that makes your blood run cold as you stare once again at those cerulean eyes.

Your mind subconsciously pulls forth some of the final words of Frankenstein’s monster. You cover your mouth in fear that you might let out a malapropos laugh at the cruel irony.

“I shall ascend my funeral pile triumphantly and exult in the agony of the torturing flames.”

[haravath0t]

A Christmas Heist Pt. V - Confrontations

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: inaccurate depictions of technology, depictions of violence, flirty Bucket, an actually big word count 

Hi guys! This is it! The final addition of “A Christmas Heist”! I am so so glad to have been able to write this out! Of course, this part will be a bit longer than the previous parts, as this is the final part after all. I must thank @world-of-aus​ immensely for going above and beyond for these action scenes! Without her, this part wouldn’t be what it is! Thank you once again to @hailhydra920​ for putting this wonderful request in for the holidays! It was a nice request to kind of dip my feet into the water, as this is my first mini-series! There will be an epilogue to be an official end to this mini series! That shall be posted Monday night! As always, feedback and commentary are deeply appreciated! What did you like? What did you not like? What do you guys wanna see? I’d love to know! Thank you and enjoy reading!

A Christmas Heist Masterlist 

Main Masterlist

“So you wanted to take a look at the MacBooks that we offer right, Miss?” Steve asks with feigned enthusiasm, keeping up the facade until you two were for sure alone on the table, far away enough from anyone to hear. Steve takes a look around one more time before he whispers, “Okay, so… this should be the section I think. I tried looking for it on the other two tables to your left, but they weren’t there. The serial numbers were getting a bit close, but not quite.” Bucky lightly clears his throat and looks around, adjusting his cap. “Well, it’s the last table with the MacBooks, we can take a look here for sure.” You take another cautious look around, resisting the urge to take the different colored wig that you have on off. “Well, why don’t you two pretend that you’re looking at MacBooks? I have a feeling that it could be here.” You whisper softly. Steve looks at you and nods. “Well, be careful Y/N. I double checked these employee drawers too. No luck anywhere. Shelves may have to be it.” You nod in understanding and waste no time into searching for this darned hard drive.

“Well these MacBooks are said to be our highest selling so if you’d like to take a close look at each one,” Steve offers, voice raised slightly as another employee walks by the three of you.

“That’ll be perfect, thank you,” Bucky gruffs, “should we need any further help I’ll send my husband to find you,” you add. Steve nods and keeps up his raised voice, “No worries, ma’am. Take all the time you need. And umm… and yeah, just take your time,” Steve says softly, turning red as he stutters the last part. You shook your head in embarrassment as you turned away from the blond super soldier who was scratching his head. You look cautiously through the display, pretending to look through the specifics of the MacBook on display before looking at the settings to examine the serial numbers. The search kept going, you were on the brink of bursting due to your frustration, until. “Got it,” you whisper, trying your hardest not to show a huge smile as you notice the serial number perfectly aligns with the serial number that you had written down on your little piece of paper. “You got it?” Bucky says with a hint of excitement as he goes to you, Steve following suit. “Yeah! It should be the one!” You say excitedly. “The hard drive from what I remember should be in these shelves behind us,” you whisper, motioning at the products behind you.

“I’ll cover for you,” Steve offers, with Bucky nodding in approval. “Yeah so will I. I think you know this techy thing more than I do.” You playfully roll your eyes, starting the search from the box of airpods that were stacked along the shelf. “It’s just a different type of package that we’re after, Buck. Nothing much really.” Bucky only scoffs as he keeps pretending to look at MacBooks with Steve, looking around cautiously. However, his eyes widened. “No… oh hell no…” He grunts under his breath. “What is it, Buck?” Steve whispers, looking around even more cautiously. But then his answer was arriving at full speed. 

It was Rumlow, striding his way into the store, eyes looking around the store, but for what? You three would not even know. “Shit.. shit shit shit…” Bucky mutters in frustration. “Y/N, sweetheart, if you have found that damn packaging, you might as well tell us now.” He whispers in a harsh tone into the comm. “Seriously, Buck? Don’t rush me, I’m about more than halfway into the stock!” The two men hear you say into their earpiece. “I think we have every right to rush you right now, doll. We’ve got company. Your 6 o’ clock.” You hear Steve say in a pressing tone, causing you to turn around right behind you to see Rumlow approaching what must be a fellow Hydra agent. Your eyes widen, rushing your process on that shelf. “Oh come on… come on..” you tell yourself, heart beating fast as you try your hardest to find that packaging. But then you soon see it, a white box of the same size, but no, it did not show the image of a pair of AirPods, it was just blank. No little text, nothing. 

“Y/N… Y/N, come on let’s go.” 

“Y/N! Stop. Put it all back.” 

You couldn’t. You couldn’t stop now, you’re so close.

You were about to reach for it, but quickly jumped when you felt a tap on your shoulder. 

Shit.

You sighed in relief when you see Bucky, quickly tensing up when you see his stern face. “Did you not hear me and Steve? We gotta put this back.” he orders, stealing some of the boxes to place quickly back on the shelf. 

“But Buck I almost got i-”

“Yes you did. But this isn’t the time and place to obtain that right now. They can’t know that we know!” He hisses, holding your hand after putting away the last of the box, leading you to Steve. “We’re lucky if they do not plan on moving this out of this section, do you u-” Bucky continues, but you hush him. “Steve, come on, escort us out.” “Don’t you dare interrupt me, sweetheart this shit’s dangerou-” 

“Shh! Rumlow is near…” you whisper quietly, rubbing your nose. Steve wastes no time when he fakes to reorganize the MacBooks in their rightful place. “Right, I’m so sorry we could not fit your needs, ma’am. I do hope you do reconsider.” Steve says and you both nod. “It’s alright. Give us time to mull it over today, Andy. I think I can get my husband to change his mind. Thank you.” You get more weary when you see Brock looking at the three of you with a suspicious eye. You were glad when you saw that the other two noticed. “Thank you for coming to the Apple Store. I hope you enjoy your day,” Steve says as he walks you both out, making it clear to the employees. “Alright, I found that there’s an alternate route to get out. If you want to go to the parking lot, try to go through Bloomingdales, walk around the building, cross the other plaza, and then the lot is on the right.” Steve whispers hurriedly and you two nod, trying your best to go out as smoothly yet swiftly as possible. 

“Steve, I need you to keep watch of that package. We gotta see where they move it. Please.” You whisper into your comms shakily, clinging onto Bucky’s gloved hand as you quickly walk into Bloomingdales. “I think you need to keep watch of something worse. Or someone.” You hear him say, causing you and Bucky to look at each other in realization. “Fuck,” You groan as the two of you quicken your pace. “Yeah… I know… Rumlow heard from a fellow agent you two were going near the package. If you haven’t gone through Bloomingdales. Now is the time.” You hear Steve say imperatively. The pace has quickened, the strides were longer, and your grip on your boyfriend’s hand is long gone as you two made your way down the escalator to the first floor quickly and out the door. 

Once you two were out, the walking quickly turned into running. Bucky hears the door hurriedly open as well as fast footsteps. “Shit, sweetheart. Come on let’s go through that outdoor mall. It might be a shortcut,” He grunts, you two quickening the pace as a whole group of pedestrians start walking across the street, you two blending in quickly in the middle of the group. You turn around to see Brock a bit far behind you. But this was not the end.

You had to keep up the strides once again, trying to avoid bringing the security into the mix, so you stayed with the crowd of people. Luckily it came to the point where everyone was squished against each other’s bodys, you weaved through the crowds alongside Bucky, getting yourselves closer and closer to the parking lot. “Drop your jacket.” Bucky orders, you look at him in shock. “What?! Why?! What for?” “Misdirection, sweetheart,” He says grabbing your hand once you take it off, leading you towards an empty alley, making you have a run for it. “You’re so crazy! I love this jacket!” You hiss, your heels clicking against the concrete as you ran alongside bucky. “Oh shush, I’ll buy you another one. Drop it… now.” He says, resulting in you throwing down the jacket as you sharply turned to your right when you got to the sidewalk of the busy road beside you. Sure enough, you hear Brock’s hurried footsteps echoing far behind you. 

You two quicken your pace, hopping into Bucky’s motorcycle, you in front of him, his arms wrapped around your torso. The engine roared before you two quickly zoomed out of the farthest exit possible, quickly weaving your way onto the busy road and hiding the two of you behind cars. “You know, I should be driving that so you don’t gotta worry.” You hear Bucky remark. You smile. “Sometimes, your girl needs a turn. Payback for making me let go of that jacket.” You couldn’t help but snicker at how lost Rumlow looked around running in frustration with the jacket of yours clenched in his hand on the sidewalk. He may have been smart and burly, but boy, was he clueless out in the open. You knew Bucky saw it two as the lights turned green, starting on your journey home. 

“He must be so lost.” You remarked, giggling as you concentrate on the road. You smiled when you felt Bucky’s chuckle rumble onto your body, playfully groaning when Bucky playfully kisses and nips at your neck. “I bet… you ran fast on those heels of yours two… proud of you…” You playfully huff, shaking your head. “Well I’m supposed to be mad at you. You know that jacket is Christian Dior?” Bucky only chuckles into your neck. “Like I said, I’ll get you another one.” A smile cracked on your face, shaking your head. “How are we like this after what just happened?” “It’s our job, sweetheart. Sure it’s a bit panicky when we are on the field, but hey… there’s nothin’ you and I can’t do.” He says into your ear. “Yeah… you’re right…” you chuckle, turning a right to go inside the parking lot of the apartment complex. “Let’s just hope he has doubts that it’s you. He must know it’s me for sure.” You snort. “Nah… Wore a cheaper perfume today in case of run-ins like these.” 

“Jesus, you’re a genius, sweetheart.”

“Can you two remember that I am still on the comm with you guys? At least turn it off.”

You called the manager to say that you were going to be late today. Bucky promised that he’d stay alongside the pouty Santa Claus to make sure no one apprehends you or Steve. You sigh shakily as you watch Steve unlock the door. “Deep breaths, doll. I know you hate the idea of being in public doing this, but we are here a good hour before opening time. So you can do this with no problem. You’re disguised. So let’s hope. We ran through this plan three times last night. Trust your instincts.” Steve reassures you as he opens the door for you. You nod, thanking him as you quickly went to get the small box. Fury knows. They’re waiting for you guys to finish this.

“So it was in there, huh?” Steve asks, as he sees you hurriedly make your way to a laptop that he just turned on. He’s already getting flustered at how the default home screen turned into another black screen filled with numbers and letters. You only nod, concentrating on the task at hand. “What are you doing?” Steve asks softly, as he looks around, trying to find a way to pass the time. “Altering the firmware to install a backdoor.” You simply respond as you type furiously at the keyboard. 

Steve only nods, shaking his head and scratching the back of his head. “Shouldn’t have asked… no idea what that mean-”

“Done. Okay next.” 

His eyebrows raise. “A-Already?!” 

“I hope you have your shield in handy just in case.” You mutter as you keep on going. “I do… Yeah, Buck has it in the case Brock goes after ‘im.” He responds, visibly confused at your work. “What are you gonna do, Y/N?” He keeps questioning, preferring to know what you are doing than sitting in silence. “We’re gonna load surveillance and let headquarters control their softwares at boot up. They can have cont-” 

All thoughts were halted when the glass doors burst open, showing a couple of men and women storming through. “Shit,” you mutter, “I got it,” Steve grunts as he moves forward, “you keep working I’ll keep them off you as long as possible.

Steve wasted no time as he rushed forward taking on the first man that ran at him.

Your eyes fly back and forth between the men rushing at Steve and the screen.

“You good?!” you call as he’s kicked to the floor only to jump right back up. He licks the blood from his lips glaring at the men in front of him body guarded as he keeps them from getting to you.

“Keep going Y/N,” his eyes meet yours, “I could do this all day.”

You want to make a remark but the middle goon runs at him, and Steve’s legs sweep up and out sending the man arms up and spread out right into the other two. Your eyes dash back to the computer screen, “Give me two minutes!”

“Don’t worry about me,” he grunts, “get it done!” Your fingers continue to clack against the keyboard, muttered curses falling from your breath as you will the damned machine to hurry, Steve could only go so long against three men with the other two standing guard by the door.

The machine beeps, “I got it Steve!”

“Gr-” he takes a fist to the face, the force enough to send him back towards you. A gasp leaves your lips as you fall away from the device.

Your hands are reaching for your friend, but one of the men gets brave as he rushes you, his hands fisting into the back of your shirt. He sends you flying back, your body skidding away from Steve and into the two by the door way. You have but a second to react, the two standing guard by the door now moving at you. Deft fingers reach for your hidden holster, your fingers hooking around the taser disk as you quick flick it to the goon that had sent you flying back.

They may be quick but you’re quicker.

He goes down in a shock before he can reach the computer, “Steven the hard drive - AH!” you get out, “You’re not going anywhere, rat,” the girl by the door hisses as she pulls you back. “Looks like we have more than one rat,” the other calls out as he kicks the hat from Steve’s head, the kick sending him back into the displays. The goon turns his head to the others, “Take her out,” he mutters, “Let’s worry about this traitor here.” You’re scrambling on your feet trying to find some leverage against the pain radiating from your scalp as you are thrown from the store.

You’re not up quick enough as they lock the door, the grey walled barricade coming down, a sinister smirk kissing the lip of the hydra goons.

“Steve!”

“Steve’s not the one you should be worrying about, Mrs. Claus, or should I say Agent L/N.”

Chills creep up your spine, and you’re turning slowly on your heel, eyes hard as you glare at the man before you.

“Rumlow,” you grunt, he wipes at blood splitting his lip. “Gotta say agent you all almost had us, but that sly trick of yours,” he steps forward, “You know... the one where you took my keys, that agent that’s where you really fucked up, did you really think I wouldn’t notice,” he tsks, “figured you all might be smarter but then again, think I prefer it like this, you’ll be easier to take down.”

Rumlow advances on you then, his body slamming into yours as he takes you down around the waist. You scrabble to get leverage, the base of your palm meeting his nose.

“Bitch,” he grunts as he falls off to the side, your body moving to stand. Your eyes fall to the store where the commotion is even louder.

“I wouldn’t worry about your friend there,” Rumlow spits a grin appearing on his face, “he’s not going to last very long.”

You’re the one charging now as you creep closer, your body dropping slightly as you let your leg sweep out and send Rumlow right back onto his back.

“You won’t last long out here either.”

“We’ll see about that,” he growls his fingers pressing to his ear as he mumbles something foreign to your ears. Your head snaps to the side where the grey gate is slowly lifting, the goon that had thrown you from earlier waiting for the gate to fully lift.

Shit.

You watch as Rumlow pushes to stand on his feet, his stance unfaltering as he waits; it’s not long before the door to the store is being pushed open, the goon falling out, grunts and crashes coming from within the store.

“You see agent, you all thought you were slick, but really we knew all this time, just like Fury sent in his rats, we’ve sent in ours.”

Your eyes widen at the news, “Oh don’t look so shocked, it was never going to end well for the lot of you, though I wish it would have, you’re not such a bad kisser,” he smirks, “we could have been something you and I, but I guess maybe in a different world,” he hums. It’s a split second before they’re both charging at you, one leg swings out as your foot meets the agent’s chest knocking him back only slightly as your hands grip at Rumlow.

You climb the burly man, your fingers reaching for the garrote hidden in your boot.

You hook the wire around Rumlow’s neck, tightening it around your fingers as you pull roughly. Rumlow chokes as he tries to knock you off, you don’t see that the goon has gotten his bearing and is now charging at you,  but it’s not like he would have made it a step closer.

“Y/N!” you hear Bucky scream, “Duck!”

Your eyes flash up, seeing Bucky running at you shield in hand, the jingle of the bell from his hat and shoes being heard. He stops mid stride to throw the vibranium shield towards you. Your fingers tighten on the metal string in your grip, your body tilting back as you and Rumlow fall to the side, the shield whizzing past you.

It takes the goon in its path down, knocking three more in its way out.

“About damn time Buck,” you hear Steve shout out, the ping of the metal meeting face reaching your ears.

You couldn’t help the hopeful smile that appears on your face as you see the blond super soldier run to the door and catch it successfully, using it to knock out the other agents coming at him. You try to get up, making the wire retract on its own, the main objective to get back into the store. You yelp when you feel a strong hand grab onto your ankle, making you thud face first against the tiles of the mall. By instinct, you kick your heel against the face, hearing Rumlow groan as you get up. You hear a crack and you look behind in shock, seeing the burly elf pinning Rumlow in the ground, landing a hard punch at him, the blood from his face matching the redness of the Santa costume. “Go! Go get that thing and let’s get out!” You hear Bucky exclaim to you, you only nod and push through the glass doors, hopping over the unconscious bodies to get to the laptop, taking the hard drive out of the port for good measure. Sighing in relief, you tuck it in a secure place and quickly run to Steve as he gets his shield. 

“Come on, let’s go,” Steve says as you nod, paging headquarters to quickly get the agents that had participated into custody. You two run out and see Bucky throw one final punch before Brock is unconscious, bloody face and nose evident. “BUCKY STOP! COME ON!” You exclaim as you and Steve make a run for it. It is only a few seconds until Bucky catches up with you, quickly running to the car. You three quickly left, more than ready to go straight to the med bay.

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[wiseabsol]

Let’s talk about why it’s a bad idea if Karrin Murphy’s fate is final.

Some quotes to consider:

pg. 217: “See that this warrior is laid in state,” [Mab] said, and moved her head in a curt gesture toward the Bean. “She has shared our enemies and earned our respect, and so shall it be known amongst my vassals and to the furthest reaches of my kingdom.”

pg. 366: “You tell Odin that Harry Blackstone Copperfield Dresden says, upon his Name, that if he doesn’t treat Murph better than I would myself, I’m going to kick down his door, pluck his fucking ravens, knock him down, kick his guts out, drag him to the island, and lock him up in a cell with Ethniu [ . . . ] I beat a divine being once [ . . . ] If I have to build a nation to get it done, I’ll do it again.”

pg. 366: Gard shook her head. “Not until the memory of her has faded from the minds of those who knew her. That is the limit not even the All-father may cross.”

So what points can we draw from this?

- According to Gard, Murphy cannot return to Earth until her memory has faded from the minds of those who knew her. This, presumably, includes immortals, whose memories last for a very long time. If this is truly the case, then Murphy cannot participate in the BAT. She and Hendricks will be benched for Ragnarok. In short: Murphy is fucked. 

- Dresden has sealed away a Titan and is willing to do the same to a god. He is currently planning to build his own magical community. Would it really be that surprising if he is willing and able to do something that a god cannot in a future book? Especially when, as mentioned above, Murphy is fucked?

But let’s unpack this more:

First, let’s look at this from a writing standpoint. Why does this rule need to be in place? The short answer is that Butcher is covering his bases. Once we, the readers, learn that Odin has snatched Murphy’s body and is making her into an einherjar, we feel a burst of hope and relief. After all, we’ve seen einherjar before, so doesn’t that mean that we can look forward to Murphy returning at a later date?

Butcher doesn’t want us to think that, though. He wants us to feel as though she’s gone forever...even though we know that the BAT, aka Ragnarok, is coming up, and the einherjar are destined to fight in it. So how does he try to throw us off? He comes up with something that feels...contrived. Something that isn’t a part of the einherjar myth. “She can’t come back! Because--because everyone has to forget about her first! Yes, that’s it! Her fate is final because of this rule I’m only just now saying is a thing!”

But why should we buy this? This is a series in which Dresden is constantly pushing past his own limitations and the roadblocks placed in front of him, and where other characters aren’t afraid to do the same. It’s a series in which the rules are set up to be broken in creative ways (zombie T-Rex, anyone?). Even reality itself can be shattered (and why set that up in Battle Ground if you’re not going to do it in the BAT?).

Aside from that, though, if Murphy really is gone, then we’re left with some problems:

1. Murphy’s death is pointless. As much as Butcher tries to have the characters say that she died fighting a Jotun, she didn’t. She was killed on accident by a scared cop. That’s not satisfying. It could have been if it had more set-up across multiple books, and if Murphy had spent some time grappling with poorly trained officers and cases of police brutality (maybe even cases in which she’d gone too far). But the Dresden Files is stuck in the 90′s in a lot of ways, complete with valourizing “good cops” like Murphy and chalking up “bad cops” like Rudolph to a weakness of character, rather than admitting that there’s a problem with the institution as a whole. In short: This isn’t even political commentary on Butcher’s part. It adds absolutely nothing to the series. 

2. Odin making Murphy into an einherjar is arguably a Fate Worse Than Death for her, rather than a reward. Why? First, her Catholic faith has been ignored. Her soul is not going to the god she chose (did Odin even ask her if she wanted to go to Valhalla? Did Murphy consider it an honor?). Second, everyone she knows and loves will have to die before she can fight again--and what’s the point of her fighting then? Third, she will be forced to sit out of Ragnarok/the BAT. So Odin, in addition to doing a disservice to Murphy, would be benching a warrior during the End Times. How does that make strategic sense? Also, if he’s not going to use his shiny new einherjar, why make her into one at all? Why not just let her be buried and let her soul go to her own god?

3. How much agency does Murphy have in this scenario? Would she really accept the above rule and choose to not help her friends with her new powers? Does that sound like her?

4. If Murphy stays gone, it means that yet another woman has been written out of the story to give Dresden manpain. That’s exhausting, especially considering how poorly Butcher has treated his female characters in the past. Losing Murphy, who is arguably our main female character, feels like adding insult to injury after what happened with Susan, Molly, Lash, and so many others. Why should female readers keep reading a series in which almost every woman character is tortured, killed, or transformed against their will?  

5. Murphy and Marcone were the last important vanilla mortals. If she’s gone for good, then between that and Marcone now being magical, we are left with a series in which normal people--including those with disablilites--can’t survive and make a difference in the fight between magical forces. They’re victims to be protected by Dresden--and thus don’t have agency--or canon fodder if they do get involved. While I suspect that Randy will act as their voice in future books, losing both Murphy and the non-magical Marcone is a blow that I’m not sure the series can recover from. As one reader put it, it’s hard for us to see ourselves in this world anymore, considering that there are no characters like us left in it. Granted, this is a problem even if Murphy returns as an einherjar. But Murphy didn’t have to die in this book, so this problem could have been avoided.   

6. And on a more petty note: Teasing a Dresden and Murphy relationship for ten+ books, and then throwing it away in one, is a nasty thing to do to the readers who were invested in that subplot. “Characters in happy relationships aren’t compelling” is also a weak excuse for doing it, considering that those characters have more to fight for when the world is ending. Finally, just to point out something small: Murphy had sex with Dresden for the first time on the evening of Day 1 of the peace talks, then died on the morning of Day 4. That’s not cool. Butcher can do better.

[phidica]

So, as you can see, my queue ran out last June and all I’ve done since then is reblog a couple of topical posts. But here’s the thing; that did not occur for lack of content that I wanted to reblog -- in fact, quite the opposite! Read on and I shall explain, because truly what is left for me to talk about on this blog besides the act of running the blog itself?

The way that I’ve historically prepared my post queue has been to open posts I intend to reblog in new tabs (whether I encounter them on the dashboard or via RSS feeds) and set them aside for later. At some point, ideally with no more than a few dozen posts in the pile, I would load all the tabs and then go through and manually rearrange them, then I would tag and add the posts to my queue in that very sequence

My reasons for doing this were twofold. Firstly, I wanted each day’s posts to be a fair mix of topics that didn’t put too many posts from the same fandom in a row. This was to avoid, for instance, multiple consecutive days of posts being nothing but MLP art thus giving the wrong impression to passersby about the focus of my blog, or overly annoying followers who weren’t interested in that topic at all (supposing that I even have active followers any more hah). Hence a degree of randomness was called for in the arrangement of posts. But secondly, I did not want to use the “shuffle queue” feature (is this a Tumblr builtin or an XKit extension? all I know is that the button has haunted me for a lifetime) because I preferred my queue to be in semi-chronological order, and I liked to create callforwards and callbacks in the tags. Oh we’re getting deep into my mental thought processes now...

I liked a semi-chronological queue because that way, as the posts were, erm, posted, any references to recent events in shows or fandoms would remain in the appropriate order without anything seemingly getting mixed up or obscuring some context. Then, regards to my tags: this didn’t happen terribly often but for instance there are the cases of me introducing a new tag and offering some commentary on the fact I have introduced that tag right next to it, which only works out if I can be certain which post that tag really does first appear on. Or I might leave commentary about a particular run of posts that I’ve just queued up. And, relatedly though not exactly the same, there are those posts that are best read in a certain sequence because that is key to some particular joke

So at this point I have explained why:

I don’t add posts to my queue immediately upon seeing them (ans: because they need to be at least lightly randomised), and why

I didn’t simply shuffle the entire queue at once to achieve said randomisation (ans: because subsets of the queue needed to be in a particular sequence).

I expect it’s becoming obvious where this is going, not least because of the contrast between past and present tenses, but I might as well cough up another paragraph or five to contextualise this further when I’ve already come so f a  r

I can actually probably trace the start of this system breaking down to the day that I upgraded to Firefox Quantum, the release from which point on you could only use WebExtensions, because at that point I lost access to an important addon, I think it was called like...Tab Groups Plus, or something. The point was that it let you see all your tabs on like a tiled view, showing previews of the content, and you could sort them into groups created and destroyed on-demand which would move them around in your tab list. This was an excellent tool for arranging posts into just the right order prior to queuing them, because I would be able to first sort them by fandom, and then start shuffling them together manually with just the right spacing to make it all work out nicely. With the loss of that extension, I had to start making do with the equivalent procedure with just moving the tabs around in the tab bar (okay, the tab tree, but let’s not go there right now), and with no previews of their content so I had to constantly click into tabs to check which was which. That sucked and was very difficult and time consuming and simply a huge downgrade

As a consequence of these changes to my workflow, I started doing the task of sorting tabs and queuing up posts less often, thus letting more posts pile up at once. Obviously I did cope with this for some time, since Firefox Quantum hit in November 2017 apparently?? fuck it’s been so long oh god and obviously I have still managed to get a lot of posts through my blog since then, though with more stops and starts (this story gets a bit messy because I also had waning investment in Tumblr at times, which also contributes to not actively running the blog, but I think the tabs thing is a bigger factor)

These big stacks of posts waiting for me to load them and sort them and then semi-randomise them have something of an exponential weight. As you might imagine there’s the mental aversion to starting a process when there’s already a lot of stuff to do, and then that just leads to there being more to do, and the nightmare spirals. But in a much more corporeal sense, it appears that the Tree Style Tab (oh fuck now I do have to go there, shit, okay. uh. it’s like if you replaced the tab bar (from the top of the screen) with a bookmarks toolbar (on the side of the screen) and you can sort tabs into folders and new tabs open from a given tab open as “children” of that tab, indented under them. it’s very nice for managing a winding path you might take through Wikipedia or TV Tropes, if you can imagine that. I don’t do that though; I just open a bajillion tabs from Tumblr and stuff them into a single folder that collapses into a single tab and hides them so I can continue to use my web browser despite the fact I have so many fucking tabs open) and really Firefox in general start to respond much slower to the act of loading new tabs or moving tabs around when you already have so many tabs in the tree. Literally, the more tabs I open from Tumblr, the physically harder it is to load those tabs and move them around in order to sort them to queue them to close them and thus allow me to move on to new tabs

That is the situation I find myself in now. As I said at the start, my blog ground to a halt not because of a lack of content, but an excess. I have so many posts that I want to put in my queue to reblog, that they are actively weighing down my web browser to the point that I can hardly start the process of queuing them in the first place

Naturally, something had to give eventually. Here’s what I was looking at a few hours ago

that’s right, I had 230 tabs in the pile. It’s too much. And the idea of closing that parent tab, and killing all 230 of them at once... It’s a solution of sorts, but never the one I wanted to take. I guess it was because I talked about this with Kylie the other week, and she suggested that I just shuffle the queue with the button that shuffles the fucking queue, Violet, that I started considering my way out

So, that’s what I’ve done. Look

And that only took me three hours! As opposed to an actual eternity!

Maybe this is only how I’ll swing things until this pile clears, or maybe it will be the way I work going forward. For now, I am making adjustments to the way that I tag posts in order to generally try and avoid that context-dependent commentary which has previously demanded that I keep things in a curated order. And fortunately, at the moment, I have been out of the active reblog scene for so long that there are no fandom chronologies I need to match step with, so shuffling everything is fine in that regard as well. And I haven’t yet encountered any posts that work best with the one-two punch in just the right order, but if I do, my plan is to just schedule them, for some random day in the future, with only a minute’s difference between them. I have done that before in certain circumstances anyway. So I have, with relatively little effort in the end, I suppose, (big thanks to my wife for letting me sequence-break my brain), allowed myself to click the magic “Shuffle Queue” button... And we’re gonna see if this lets me actually clear the whole backlog in the end, and perhaps regain control of my life web browser life

But rn I need to go to sleep because I just stayed up like an extra two hours beyond the point I needed to be asleep writing this all out in one stream of thought whoops

[dailyaudiobible]

12/16/2020 DAB Transcript

Micah 5:1-7:20, Revelation 7:1-17, Psalms 135:1-21, Proverbs 30:5-6

Today is the 16th day of the month of December welcome to the Daily Audio Bible I’m Brian and it is wonderful to be here with you today as we continue our journey, the one that takes us to the end of the year and all the way through the Scriptures. And we are obviously well on our way, but we still have some significant territory to cover. And, so, let's dive in. We’re reading from the Good News Translation this week. We began the book of Micah yesterday in our Old Testament reading, and we will conclude the book of Micah today by reading Micah 5, 6, and 7.

Commentary:

Okay. God says something in the book of Micah today as we’re nearing the end of…of Micah that is really riveting and penetrating. “my people”, God says “what have I done to you? How have I been a burden to you? Answer me.” And this is God basically pressing into the rebellion of His people and the idolatry and spiritual idolatry of His people. They would face hardship and then blame God for it, which sounds awfully contemporary, and now. Sounds like our own lives. And God is saying, “what have I done to you? Am I not the one that rescued you? Like, am I not the one that has provided for your every step?” When God says, “my people, what have I done to you?” I mean you just have to imagine putting your own name. “Oh Brian, what have I done to you? Ahh…even just saying that out loud pricks me. I don't ever want to hear that. “How have I been a burden to you?” I don’t ever want to hear the Lord say that to me. If we just kind of a reverse the question and put the question at the end of God's statement, then we get complete clarity. So, God says. “I brought you out of Egypt. I rescued you from slavery. I sent Moses Aaron and Miriam to lead you. My people, remember what king Balak of Moab planned to do to you and Baalam son of Beor answered him. Remember the things that happened on the way from the camp at Acacia to Gilgal. Remember these things and you will realize what I did in order to save you.” My people, what have I done to you? How have I been a burden to you? Answer me.” That is such a mirror. Like, that's one you can’t escape from. You can't look away because it's like, look back at the story of your life and look at the moments where God has saved and rescued you and you knew it and you still know it. And yet hardship endurance can come, perseverance can come and we’re mad, were estranged or angry and we’re rebellious and we walk away just like the people in the Bible. And then hears God, “what did I do? What did I do to you? How did I burden you?” So, basically what happens in the text here is that Micah responds to that. Like…like God has just come and asked us this question, “How have I been a burden to you? What have I done to you?” So, he's internally kind of working through, “what…what do we do now? How do we respond to that?” And it becomes a bit of a rhetorical, even sarcastic lesson. “What shall I bring to the Lord?” Like, this is the response to, “how have I been a burden to you?” “What shall I bring to the Lord, the God of heaven when I come to worship Him? Shall I bring the best cows to burn as offering to him? Will the Lord be pleased if I bring Him thousands of sheep or endless streams of olive oil? Shall I offer him my firstborn child to pay for my sins? No.” And then Micah tells us something that's very famous but also something that essentially encapsulates what it is that God wants from you. So, Micah is like, “no. It's not all these sacrifices, it's not all these rituals, it's not all these hoops, this is not what God wants from you.” “The Lord” and I'm quoting Micah “the Lord has told us what is good. What He requires of us is this, to do what is just, to show constant love and to live in humble fellowship with our God.” More famously we would quote this, “to do justly, to love mercy, to walk humbly with your God.” This is what God wants from you. This is what he wants from me. It's what he wants from us. And when us gets together and does what God wants things change. It's all available. It's all in our hands. We can practice this as we go into the holiday season straightaway straight in front of us. Do justly, love mercy, walk humbly. That is the path friends. That is the path forward. When that's what our lives look like we are on the right path. And, so let's carry that forward in our hearts today as we continue to move toward Christmas and the new year. It was like a month and a half ago we were way out in front of it, talking about how this is gonna happen, things are gonna speed up, the years gonna get crazy like it always does, very very busy. And, so, we’re gonna want to start the year fresh and new and strong and the way that that's gonna happen is that we finish this year strong. Justice, mercy, humility - this is the path to walk to finish well and start strong. Let's intentionally begin today.

Prayer:

Father, we invite You into that. We can’t do it without You, we can do nothing without You, and we don't want to do anything without You. Anything we've ever attempted to do without You has been a catastrophe and we’ve learned that we can continue to repeat the same patterns, or we can lift our hands in surrender asking for Your help. And we’re asking for Your help. We want to collaborate with You. This life isn't about everything that we can create and You are the add-on, You are the secret sauce, You are the one that provides the path forward. We’re in a different story than that. We’re in Your story and You have invited us to be a part of that story. We want to do Your will and we want to join You in the grand story, the ongoing never-ending story of redemption. Come Holy Spirit, help us to meditate on justice, mercy and humility today we pray in the name of Jesus. Amen.

Announcements:

dailyaudiobible.com is the website, home base, indeed where you find out what's going on around here. And indeed, it's Christmas time around here. So that’s mostly what's going on.

Daily Audio Bible Shop is open and there are some unique gift ideas there truly, truly unique gift ideas there. Maybe a gift to yourself is there waiting for you as well, something to commemorate and remind you of…of 2020 and the craziness of the year and the fact that we went through it together. We were in it together every step of the way. I mean the second people had to start keeping their distance we just kept going. This is…this is the beauty of who we are as a virtual community. And, so, we…maybe there's something that you want…you wanna use to remind yourself. There are plenty of…of ideas there. So, check out the Daily Audio Bible Shop.

The other thing is that we have been collecting the holiday greetings that we will put together and create our annual Christmas party. And, so, today's the last day we’re…we’re going to be collecting those. So, if you've procrastinated a little bit maybe don't forget this is the last day. All you gotta do is hit the Hotline button in the app the same way we would submit a prayer request or encouragement. Hit the Hotline button in the app and share your holiday greeting, or you can dial 877-942-4253 and share your holiday greeting. The only rule is that just don't combine a holiday greeting and a prayer request in the same call. Just make those separate this time. And, so, we’ll…we’ll collect those today and then get to work on putting everything together so we can have our Christmas party. And I look forward to that tremendously.

If you want to partner with the Daily Audio Bible, you can do that at dailyaudiobible.com. There is a link on the homepage, and I thank you humbly and profoundly…yeah…humbly and profoundly, those are the right words. Thank you for your partnership. We wouldn't be here if we weren't in this together. So, there is a link on the homepage. And you press the Give button if you’re using the app, and that's in the upper right-hand corner or the mailing address is PO Box 1996 Spring Hill Tennessee 37174.

And, as always, if you've a prayer request or encouragement 877-942-4253 is the number to dial or you can just hit the Hotline button in the app, which is the little red button up at the top and you won't…you won’t…you won’t miss it. It looks like a Hotline button. You can just press that and share from wherever you are in the world.

And that is it for today. I’m Brian I love you and I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.

Community Prayer and Praise:

Hey Daily Audio Bible family this is John calling from Bethlehem Pennsylvania hope you’re doing great today. It’s the 12th of December at about 9:10 AM and I just got through listening to the program for 11th of December and listening to the…the prayers that came in and wanted to first thank Grandpa Bob for his prayer for Halo. Such great words of advice for you Halo and such great wisdom from Grandpa Bob. And he’s right, we love you. God loves you. And…and other colors that have called, you know, about Halo’s situation like that day too we heard from Walta the burning bush and what a beautiful prayer you prayed, you know, over…over her and over the person that’s, you know, being a bully or being mean to her. Just beautiful Walta. So, thank you Grandpa Bob and thank you Walta for praying over Halo. You know, we’re joined together in prayer and, you know, where two or more people this goes right to the father Halo. So, you’re in great hands and we do love you. We want to hear your praise report when you call back in. Also, there was a caller. You didn’t leave your name sweetheart but you were talking about how you’re so distracted with things and that you’re…you’re sick, physically sick even because you’re so distracted by everything is going on. Sweetheart…heavenly Father thank You so much for this…for this woman that she’s seeking You and that she’s calling in her prayer God. Touch her in a special way, Lord Jesus. Help her to focus and bring her clarity. Help her to cut out all of the junk from her life that’s bringing fear and anxiety to her and have her stay close to You. I’m praying for You sweetheart. I’ll keep You lifted up in Jesus’ name. Amen.

Hi, my names Hudson and I…I live in New Mexico and I’m just praying for my brother who has diabetes. He has…he had diabetes for 15 years and they just want to…I just want to pray that he gets better from diabetes. And I thank you Brian for be…for praying for all those here. I listen to it every day. Thank you.

Good afternoon DAB family God bless you all. A DABber called at about a 95 dad that is able to understand the meaning of salvation right before he went to be with the Lord and surrounded by family. That is such a beautiful story and so encouraging and I am praying for the peace of God to be with you all and comforting you as I know that your dad will be missed. You know, Laura Lee from Boyden Beach welcoming new listeners. Amen. Praise you Jesus. Please continue to call in those new listeners we love to hear from you. Pamela from Canada called in about your son Ray in Jamaica. We are praying for the for that he is going to turn his life over to Jesus as well as other family members in the name of Jesus. And I’m also praying for these things that are attacking your body. I don’t want I even name them. I am praying for the healing of the Jesus Christ that we serve to be upon you in the name of Jesus. Blind Tony, I love your poems. God bless you in the name of Jesus. And Joe to Treasure, you know, you are a treasure. You called in about recognizing our voices and how we are to recognize the voice of the One and only One that we serve, Jesus Christ. We thank you. And yes, may we always be mindful about the voices that we recognize and always wanting to hear the voice of God in the midst of everything. Russell from superior daughter injecting drugs we bind that in the name of Jesus. We bind those drugs in the name of Jesus. I am binding those spirits that is trying to hold her down in the name of Jesus. Barb from Alberta called to say thank you for this community. You say you only call in every couple years but you know what sis we love you and we want to hear from you. God bless you all. Esther from Orlando.

Hi this is Lita I would like to pray for Harold to have the sun with diabetes and if there was another person that called in who also had a loved one diabetes. I also have a son with type I diabetes and so I understand the heart ache of having to walk alongside someone dealing with this terrible disease. So, Father I lift up Harold and I lift up the other person and myself Lord, all of us having loved ones with type I diabetes and I pray for healing Lord. I pray for good management of numbers. I just pray for Your wisdom and for Your guidance Lord and I pray for Your deliverance and I pray Lord for Your…Your rescue of us Lord from this disease. And I just pray Lord that You would help, that You would heal, that You would deliver. Lord You’re all that we have, You are our everything, the only one we can turn to and we turn to You Lord. Thank You.

Good morning Daily Audio Bible family this is Regis calling from Nairobi. Today I’m calling just to pray…to pray and join Gloria in prayer. Gloria from Camp Paula Uganda just a neighbor here. Gloria, I heard your…your request. You are requesting a prayer. You’ve been promoted but they’ve included also many things like faith management and song, but your salaries still not really reviewed yet. We pray that the Lord will release and increase your salary so you will be able to take care of your family. And I pray that the Lord will open up doors for bigger blessings, doors for international opportunities. I pray that the Lord will make you a blessing for your family. I pray that the Lord will make even this next year 2021 easier and better than this year and better than many of the years, the past years. I pray that the Lord will stretch His hand upon you, favor you all the ways. May God bless you may God keep you and protect you and your family. We love you. God bless you. Have a blessed day. Bye-bye, Regis…

[gdwessel]

G1 Climax 30 Night 12 - 10/8/2020; Tanahashi Appears On AEW Dynamite Along With Footage from Archer v. Moxley at WK14

The sixth day of B Block matches has come and gone, and you can see it now on NJPWWorld.

- 10/8/2020, Okayama ZIP Arena

Gabriel Kidd d. Yuya Uemura (Double-Arm Suplex, 8:47) 

G1 Climax 30 B Block: Hirooki Goto [CHAOS] d. YOSHI-HASHI [CHAOS] (GTR, 14:12)

G1 Climax 30 B Block: Zack Sabre Jr. [SZKG] d. Toru Yano [CHAOS] (Figure Four Heel Hook, 12:20)

G1 Climax 30 B Block: SANADA [Los Ingobernables] d. KENTA [Bullet Club] (O’Connor Bridge, 11:24)

G1 Climax 30 B Block: Tetsuya Naito [Los Ingobernables] d. Juice Robinson (Destino, 25:01)

G1 Climax 30 B Block: EVIL [Bullet Club] d. Hiroshi Tanahashi (EVIL STO, 19:58)

EVIL and SANADA both continue their runs, as they face each other on the final day. Naito wins, but we all know he isn’t winning the Block or the tournament. Remember the good old days of last week when Toru Yano was winning matches in ridiculous fashion?

Current B Block standings:

Naito: 10pts (5W 0D 1L) EVIL: 8pts (4W 0D 2L) Tanahashi: 6pts (3W 0D 3L) Robinson: 6pts (3W 0D 3L) SANADA: 6pts (3W 0D 3L) Sabre: 6pts (3W 0D 3L) Goto: 6pts (3W 0D 3L) Yano: 6pts (3W 0D 3L) KENTA: 4pts (2W 0D 4L) YOSHI-HASHI: 2pts (1W 0D 5L)

YOSHI-HASHI is eliminated from contention at this stage. KENTA is next to go as it stands. There is a logjam of wrestlers on 6 points, but as with prior years in G1, you can “read the booking” for the last day of matches and see who will actually still be in contention at that point. 

Last night’s episode of AEW Dynamite was interesting for many reasons (not least of which, the dog collar match between Cody Rhodes v. Brodie Lee). 

The episode was focused on Chris Jericho’s 30th anniversary as a wrestler, and through the night, videotaped tributes were shown from such, erm, luminaries as Bubba Ray Dudley, Dennis Miller and Gene Simmons. But also, Ultimo Dragon, and Hiroshi Tanahashi!

Tanahashi is understandable, since he and Jericho just wrestled back in January at Wrestle Kingdom 14. And if you want someone from NJPW to pay tribute to Jericho, you could do worse than the Ace. At the same time, the Lion Mark was clearly displayed on AEW TV. And that wasn’t all.

In addition, promos were cut by both current AEW World Champion, and IWGP US Heavyweight Champion, Jon Moxley, and his challenger on next week’s episode of Dynamite, Lance Archer. Both had images and footage from their match at WK14, the IWGP US title Texas Deathmatch that was the scene of Mox winning the belt. 

Excalibur would later directly reference Gedo and NJPW on commentary during the main event, while earlier on during a promo, Kenny Omega made a not-very-oblique reference to his winning G1 Climax at the first time of asking way back in 2016.

All of these put together make a very interesting proposition. Add to that, the fact NJPW will be gaining a new President/CEO on 10/23/2020 as Harold Meij steps aside for Takami Ohbari, and one might think something official was brewing between AEW and NJPW. But as ever, we shall see. There is nothing official yet, but it’s a question that keeps coming up, and maybe now we’ll get a definitive answer.

(On a very related note, last night I dropped the one-year anniversary episode, which happens to be episode 50, of my weekly AEW Dynamite review show, Boom Goes The Dynamite, on the PWOM Podcast Network, so go check that out if so inclined!)

The crew takes a day off tomorrow, before resuming A Block matches.

- 10/10/2020, Osaka EDION Arena

Yota Tsuji v. Yuya Uemura

G1 Climax 30 A Block: Tomohiro Ishii [CHAOS] v. Jeff Cobb [FREE]

G1 Climax 30 A Block: Jay White [Bullet Club] v. Yujiro Takahashi [Bullet Club]

G1 Climax 30 A Block: Will Ospreay [CHAOS] v. Taichi [SZKG]

G1 Climax 30 A Block: Kota Ibushi v. Minoru Suzuki [SZKG]

G1 Climax 30 A Block: Kazuchika Okada [CHAOS] v. Shingo Takagi [Los Ingobernables]

[thedistantstorm]

Project Compass 11

Read Along on AO3 Here

<< Previous Chapter << >> Next Chapter >>

This time: Thrawn tells Ezra a story. Un’hee takes matters into her own hands.

Next time: Thrawn and Eli visit Thrass at the Mitth family estate on Copero. Thrass is brought up to speed on developments within the CDF.

-/

“Thrawn?” Ezra waved a hand in front of his face. He hadn't responded in nearly thirty seconds, withdrawing hard into his thoughts. When the Chiss finally blinked, he ventured, “You alright?”

“I am fine,” Thrawn said slowly. His tone was normal, and his face was characteristically expressionless. It was his eyes that betrayed him. “I have much to think about,” He said. “Thank you for informing me-”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Ezra said, kicking off his boots beside Thrawn’s bed in an act of courtesy while ignoring his obvious dismissal. “If it’s all the same to you, I’m going to meditate in here.” There was a spark to the Force-sensitive human’s eyes that said he’d be sticking to Thrawn, whether he liked it or not.

“As you wish.”

The lack of a stern refusal or glare, even the slightest tick of his mouth to indicate his displeasure did not come. Ezra thought that was rather telling, as much as the shock radiating off Thrawn in the Force. Ezra kneeled at the edge of Thrawn’s bunk and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and preparing himself to sink into the familiar waters of meditation.

Thrawn was not a being who slumped, but when Ezra reached out with the Force, he felt the pressure of the older man's tumultuous emotions pressing down upon him like a physical weight. This, Ezra realized, was more than just friendship. His feelings of despair and responsibility were overwhelming. Thrawn saw himself as a leader. A commanding officer. His futility hit like a tsunami, a wave that threatened to sweep Thrawn away with it.

A moment more, Ezra reflected on him in the Force. "I think you should talk to him," He said, keeping his eyes closed.

The only sound in the room was their breathing. Thrawn might have looked Ezra's way, assessing him, but Ezra remained smooth and serene, mostly adrift in his abilities. It was a Kanan move, Ezra thought, offering up his own longing and grief to the Force. He didn't have to open his eyes to know that Thrawn was in fact staring at him.

"It was a military exercise and therefore classified. I am his subordinate. It would be inappropriate."

Ezra exhaled, then inhaled deep and even, willing himself to settle back within the flow of the Force. Thrawn didn't seem keen on continuing to speak, and so Ezra let his consciousness expand, feeling the threads and patterns that the Force cast around everything. He felt his own connections, the unlikely friendship he'd fostered with Thrawn, his relationships among the crew scattered about the levels above and below him. And like a beacon, he sensed the Navigators: clear and bright. Vah'nya, in particular, was like a light in a storm, brilliant and strong within the Force. She must be instructing the other Navigators, smaller, fledgling bright spots that twinkled like newborn stars.

He wasn't sure how long he drifted like that before bringing his mind back to his immediate surroundings, but Thrawn had recovered somewhat and was watching him tentatively when he surfaced from his meditative state. He seemed wary, Ezra thought, but composed.

"How would you go about it?" Thrawn asked him while he stretched his legs. "If our roles were reversed."

Ezra considered. Carefully, he said, "I'm not sure I have enough information to tell you."

That gave the Chiss pause, but only for a second. Seeming to make up his mind, Thrawn asked,"When is your next lesson?"

"This afternoon, after the mid-day meal. Fourteenth hour," He said, though he suspected Thrawn already knew. It was an out, if Ezra desired one. He did not.

"Very well," Thrawn replied. "I shall start at the beginning."

-/

It sounded like a holonovel, even in Thrawn's emotionally devoid tone, his recollection almost as neutral as a third party narrator. Or, at least, that's how it started. Thrawn spoke of Ivant as an impressionable, kind-hearted, but highly intelligent cadet who had been treated poorly and discredited due to his Wild Space heritage. Thrawn had seen something worth considering in him, and that one life had been of such little consequence to the Emperor that he'd given Vanto over like he was pet, not a person.

Ezra held back commentary or judgement even as Thrawn described upending Vanto's desired career path. "He would have been wasted on supply," Thrawn said. "He did not recognize his own abilities because he had never been put into a place to allow them to flourish. It mattered little to the Empire who was kept at my side, thus I was able to teach him to see and understand."

A lot of Thrawn's story was military procedure and function. Lessons Vanto had learned with Thrawn's guidance. Vanto's political insight, which Ezra read into as a shortcoming on Thrawn's part. He learned way too much about a rebel named Nightswan, whom Vanto and Ezra clearly agreed had been an obsession on Thrawn's part, even if he was rarely wrong about the man's motives and operations.

He learned a lot about Pryce, too. Pryce, who he'd always known was evil, but hearing about Batonn only solidified everything. In learning about her hand in Thrawn and Vanto's paths, Thrawn had touched on something else. He'd glossed over it, but Ezra hadn't been fooled.

"She saw Vanto as your weakness," Ezra mused. "He was being treated unfairly, and it was something you wanted, rather than needed. He could have stayed an Ensign but it would have been cruel."

"Yes, although it was Tarkin who facilitated the promotion," Thrawn recalled, "Pryce had been critical in removing that block. I am to believe it was one of Tarkin's enemies that caused the issue in the first place. Vanto seemed aware of it, though he did not share his concerns in this matter with me after it had been made clear I was recommending him for commendations at every opportunity."

"Huh," Ezra murmured. "Go on."

Thrawn did. Towards the end, something had changed about his relationship with Vanto. They had gone from Admiral and Commander to what Ezra would definitely classify as friends. Thrawn was proud of Vanto's progress, his ability to think tactically, while substantially different from Thrawn's art-inspired studies, were impressive. In many ways they understood each other, but they respected their differences and individual personalities. "He would become a great leader, someday," Thrawn said. "I knew there was no possible way for him to do so under me, and no way the Empire would take him seriously after a career at my back. And with Nightswan no longer an option, I decided to present him with an opportunity."

"What would you have done with Vanto if you had been able to send Nightswan here?"

Thrawn's lips thinned into a frown. "It is uncertain." One possibility, Thrawn reasoned, was that he would have seen Karyn Faro through to command her own fleet, and that he would have pushed for Vanto to be made his true second in command. He doubted it would be made so without extreme hardships and potential career suicide for one or both of them, now. Would conflicts have evolved similarly, otherwise? It was impossible to say.

Eventually he'd continued, giving a brief summary of Vader aboard the Chimaera after Atollon, of the Grysk and the Navigators, and then he'd moved on. There was no ill-will toward the Rebels or Ezra detected. It was strange, in a way, but Ezra didn't dwell on it.

There were more pressing matters.

"You gave him the TIE Defenders?" Here Ezra's voice rose sharply in disbelief.

"For a brief operation, yes," Thrawn confirmed silkily. "The pilots respected him as their Commander, and would heed his word as if it were my own."

"But he left the Empire."

"Technically, they knew he was on assignment. For all they knew, he was infiltrating their ranks at the Emperor's behest." Thrawn watched as Ezra frowned. "What is it?"

"You trusted him a lot," Ezra said.

"A Commander should always have faith in his subordinates."

"More than that. That was a gamble, even if your loyalties always were more with the Chiss than the Empire. If something went wrong..."

"I knew it would not."

"But if it did?"

"I was prepared to deal with the fallout, but knew that if something went awry, Lieutenant Vanto was prepared for it."

"Hmm," Ezra said, and left Thrawn to finish his tale: his pride at Admiral Ar'alani promoting Vanto with the CDF, the Admiral's warning, and finally, the Emperor's ominous, ambiguous threat. The rest, Ezra knew first hand.

"Your questions," Thrawn encouraged, taking in his younger counterpart's contemplative stare. "Or conclusions."

"Well," Ezra paced in the small space as he put together his thoughts. "I still think you need to talk to him, man to man." He frowned. "But I also don't think that whatever happened with the Grysk was actually your fault. I mean, how could it be?"

"There are several possibilities, but they all seem highly unlikely. I suspect the Navigators were purposefully misleading you, and by extension, me."

"I caught on by reading their body language," Ezra admitted. Neither Navigator would confirm his suspicion, but they definitely didn't deny it. "I know some part of their mission had to do with you." Rubbing the back of his head, Ezra adds, "Though… I mean, it doesn't really matter what the reasons are. You feel responsible because you sent him here and something bad happened to him. You obviously care about him a lot." The Jedi paused. "What do you want out of all this?"

"Our dynamic has never been so… strained," Thrawn settled on, "Even in its infancy. I had hoped our friendship would continue, but I am starting to believe that is not in the realm of possibility."

Ezra sat back on the edge of the bed. Thrawn's hands dangled over the armrests of the chair. They met each other's eyes. "Things can't go back to how they were, though. I mean, he outranks you now. Whatever he's doing now with the Navigators appears to be a success."

"Perhaps he does not require my guidance," Thrawn considered. It should feel rewarding, there should be an element to pride in such a success. And yet...

The Chiss's voice had a jagged edge to it, rough and torn and raw. Ezra blinked once, then twice, staring as the dots connected. He exhaled slowly through his nose, then inhaled and braced himself for Thrawn's reaction.

"You wanted to know my conclusion," Ezra started, waiting for Thrawn to acknowledge him. He did, so Ezra spoke honestly. "I think you're in love with him."

-/

Navigator Un'hee was not an uncommon sight in the officer's lounge. Most of the time, she stuck to a corner of one of the smooth leather couches or the armchair nearest the overhead lamp if it was midday and no one was around.

Of course, all of that was a moot point if the Captain was present. She stuck to him like a shadow. The Captain rarely had time to himself, but made it a point to be available to his crew. Rarely did said crew need him, but it was the point. The humble, earnest qualities in their human commanding officer were mildly contagious. It bred hard work, understanding. Commitment. None of the crew had requested transfer outside of promotion, and all those seeking promotion wanted to attain it within the same ecosystem. It spoke a lot about the climate Ivant created.

Right now, the officer's quarters were empty, save for one person. Said person sat at an empty table, cold tea in front of them, looking at something on a datapad.

"Hi," She ventured softly, startling him from his thoughts. Of course, no Chiss would show such a thing, but Un'hee always could tell. "May I sit with you?"

Thrawn's red eyes slipped over her, silently appraising. She knew he could not tell her no, however he could make up something and leave. But, she also knew he was curious. He had frightened her at first, when they'd met, but almost everything had. She waited patiently, datapad and a small, ancient looking book held in her hands.

"You may," He said, inclining his head toward the empty chair beside him. It had taken him four seconds to consider.

Instead of utilizing her datapad, she opened the smaller tome. Though it was small in size, it was still thick, though she selected the page she needed without a page marker. She could feel his eyes on her as she settled in to read.

It took him several minutes to return to his own reading, and for a while, the only sounds between them were the flip of parchment and the tap of fingertips against the touchscreen. Un'hee did not particularly enjoy reading scholarly texts about Sight. In fact, she rather detested it. But this one, she did not. The deep blue ink upon the pages was beautiful and contrasted nicely with the color of the pale but yellowing parchment. This text was nearly a millennia old, and yet it still looked as it had when its author completed it.

"I am surprised such an old artifact was allowed out of the capitol," Thrawn said.

Un'hee sighed. "This one is the best of the ones I've read so far. I think they're easier to focus on when you can turn the pages." She slid her finger down the margin carefully.

"You enjoy reading," He commented.

"Perhaps. Not like you enjoy art, though."

"Not many have such in-depth hobbies."

Un'hee swung her legs, feet dangling above the ground. "Perhaps," She said again. "I am interested in how my sisters and I learn and grow," She said. "I wish to be more. Stronger."

"Yet you read meditative texts," He inclined his head toward her current study. "They are hardly concrete in providing evidence or metrics for improvement."

The young Chiss shrugged. "Well, we have Ivant to do math for us," She said casually. Thrawn did not react, though she eyed his shoulders, waiting to see if he'd tense and attempt to leave. She continued, innocently enough, "I think that I seek more of a spiritual understanding of strength. My mind was… injured by my captivity," She supposed aloud. "I had to fight to prove I was not too damaged to serve our people. I still do."

Thrawn set down his datapad and looked at her. Really looked at her. At first, he suspected this to be some convoluted plan cooked up between her and Bridger, the latter had been exceedingly oppressive with his presence and some strange mix of support and sympathy since their last discussion of his supposedly tender emotional state.

Un'hee saw a different connection between them. And, Thrawn suspected, noting the way she did not hide or attempt to conceal her intentions, they were likely genuine. He could not consider himself a prisoner in the same sense that she had been. But to the Navigator, that did not seem to matter. She recognized a kindred spirit.

"I do not believe your superiors would find you taking up with me to be in your best interest," He said. "I also, as you say, find myself fighting to prove I am not too 'damaged.'"

"I do not wish to discuss your emotional state with you," Un'hee said, of the trap he'd rather slyly placed. "Your emotions are not my place, despite my worries."

"I suspect you have been apprised of the situation," He mused.

"Vah'nya taught Ezra the Cheunh word for gossip," She rolled her eyes. "He is clueless, but kind. He means well, though I think he will make things worse."

"He is under explicit instructions to withhold his urges to assist in my 'situation,'" Thrawn intoned casually.

"Which is why they sent me." She twisted in her seat to face him. "Vah'nya's hands are tied and so are Ezra's. He won't go against your wishes where you can see it," She said, "But..."

"I too suspected such a ploy, however I remain unsure as to your purposes in telling me this."

Un'hee looked up into Thrawn's face. She did not see facial heat or any indication of irritation, and he felt cool, collected, and calm from what she could sense. She exhaled, folding her fingers together in her lap, then looking down to her book. She closed it and ran her fingers across the cover, then tapped it twice.

"I will not get involved," She said to him, muted and sharp, all at the same time. It reminded him of a much younger Admiral Ar’alani. "Do you understand?"

Thrawn inspected the cover of the small text, noting the artwork on the front. It was old, traditional Chiss style, elegant and abstract and a myriad of blues with hints of gold and white. The colors were vibrant and of a gradient that faded from dark to light, indicative of a Navigator at the height of their Sight. Amidst the coloration, however was another design.

Un'hee traced the outline of it, the gold-bronzed ink subdued beneath layers of indigo-blue and time. It was a wayfarer's tool. A compass. She raised a brow to him, pushing aside the book and reaching for her datapad.

He eyed the illustration with interest but did not reach out to touch it. “A compass?”

“One word that represents many things,” Un’hee faced straight ahead, but her eyes cast to the side so she could see him in her periphery. “And symbolizes countless others.”

[thecleverdame]

Control and Release - 8

Series Masterlist

TEDTalk!Sam x Reader

*this is a repost as Tumblr deleted the last one

Summary: With the rest of the staff caught in a snowstorm, you find yourself acting as a personal assistant to the notorious Sam Winchester.

Warnings: Dom/Sub, humiliation, embarrassment, sexual objectification,  mutual masturbation, spanking, cum play, fingering, anal play, orgasm control, dub-con, nipple clamps,(more warnings as the story continues)  

Words: 2.3k

Beta: @ilikaicalie

Parts Nine and Ten are currently available on Patreon for a monthly pledge of $2.50. This includes early access to all my stories and Patreon exclusive content.  >> CLICK HERE <<

-

Your hotel room is a long elevator ride up at the Four Seasons. It’s twice the size of your apartment and the mattress is the most comfortable thing you’ve ever felt in your life.

Sam’s big meeting isn’t until the morning, but he had plenty to go over with Pepper so you were sent to your room until he calls for you. You take a shower and order room service for a snack, then sit at the end of the bed and watch TV as the hours tick by.

By the time he texts you, you’re beyond ready and full of nervous anticipation. Every inch of your body is lotioned and soft, hair curled and makeup minimal but enough to add a little oomph to your everyday look.

Picking up the phone you read the message from Keith Campbell.

Open your gift and put it on. Come up my room. Wear a dress, we’re going out.

“My gift?” you mutter. There’s a knock at the door right on cue. You collect a box from the bellhop, thanking him and kicking the door shut behind you. The box itself is wrapped in nondescript, white paper and you tear it open to reveal a pearly iridescent box with the name Dark Garden Lingeriescrawled across the top.

Inside is a matching black bra and panties. Upon closer inspection, you discover the panties are crotchless, and a thrill of anticipation runs up your spine. There are garters and thigh-high pantyhose underneath them and you take out the full set, stripping down to try it on.

It takes a few tries to get it right, but when you’re done you admire yourself in the mirror. The garter sits smoothly around your waist, the rest of the set perfectly in place. It dawns on you that Sam knows your measurements. He paid close enough attention to be able to order lingerie that fits like a glove. He’s given this thought, took the time to pick out something specific to his tastes. This little delivery was pre-planned.

For the first time, you wonder if he thinks about you with the same fascination you have for him. Not wanting to indulge those thoughts you focus on the matter at hand.

You’re better prepared this time. You overpacked, and have something you think will be perfect for the occasion. It’s a bright red one shoulder cocktail dress that falls just above the knee. It’s daring but also conservative, a commentary on Sam if ever there was one.

-

Waiting in the hallway you knock on Sam’s door, shifting from one foot to the other. The uncertainty of your time with him makes your blood run hot, a tingle that always sets in when you know you’re about to see him.

The door swings open and there he is in an expertly tailored navy blue suit that was clearly made for him. It’s easy to get caught up in who he is and your relationship with him, but all that aside, he’s a devastatingly handsome man.

He stands there with his hand on the door, inspecting you from head to toe before stepping aside. “Come in.”

You step into his room and he shuts the door behind you.

“You look beautiful,” he comments, stalking around you in a full circle.

“Thank you for my gift.” You lick your lips as he comes to stand in front of you.

“You’re wearing it?” He grins.

As if he even needs to ask.

“Yes,” you confirm. “Would you like me to show you?”

“Not right now. We’ll save that for later.” He steps closer, lifting his hands to curl around the back of your neck, his thumb resting in the dip between your collar bones. All of his fingers stroke up the back of your neck, sending a spine tingling chill from head to toe. He rarely touches you, so the feeling of his warm hands lingering on your skin is a treat.

You look up as he stares down at you and the world narrows down to this moment. His fingers press on the base of your skull, thumbs pressing softly at your jugular notch as you stare at each other.

This is by far the most intimate moment you’ve experienced with Sam. He’s close and quiet, inches from your face, close enough that you can feel his breath. It’s as if you’ve been drugged, willing to do anything he asks of you. One of his thumbs moves up to press at the front of your throat, feeling you swallow.

“I’m going to take you to dinner,” he whispers, mouth getting closer by the second. His lips brush the corner of your mouth as he speaks. “And then I’m going to bring you back here and fuck your tits. Would you like that?”

“Yes,” you whimper, eyes closed as you swim in the feeling of him.

“I’m going to test your limits tonight, Y/N.” Your legs feel weak as he speaks, knees threatening to give out. “Some things may hurt but I promise you’ll like it all. Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” you whisper, mouth falling slack.

“If you’re good for me tonight, tomorrow I’ll fuck your pussy,” he murmurs, his mouth moving to the shell of your ear. “I bet you're so tight. Bet that wet little cunt is just begging for a cock.”

You wheeze, breath rattling in your throat as your sex begins to tingle. Part of you thought maybe he’d never actually fuck you. That this is all some power game designed to make you crave him but never actually give you what you want. If it means he’ll fuck you, you’d crawl on the floor and bark like a dog if he asked you to.

“I’ll be good.” This pledge comes out as a whine, strained and low as he pulls back to look at you.

“I know you will,” he affirms. “Now let's go have something to eat, shall we?”

-

You slide into the backseat of a sleek, black car and Sam settles in next you, immediately rolling up the privacy window that separates the back from the driver. You’ve barely pulled away from the curb when he reaches over and hooks a hand under your knee, laying your leg over his thigh, effectively opening you up for him.

You don’t say anything just turn to watch him as he’s focused on his where his fingers are trailing up your inner thigh, brushing gently up past the thigh highs and garter clips, until he finds exposed flesh. You suck in a breath and he grins like a wolf, refocused on whatever new torture he has in store.

“Are you wet?” he asks softly, fingers moving closer to your trembling apex.

“Ahuh.” The second the word leaves your mouth you tense up, and you feel a slap on the inside of your thigh, just above the knee.

“What did I say about talking like that?” he chastises, looking for your confirmation.

“I’m sorry. I meant yes. I’m wet.” Squirming in the seat you draw in a breath and try to sit still. It seems an impossible task with his hand inching up further and further and then you feel it. The tips of two fingers easily find the obscene hole in the crotch of your panties, sinking into your wet flesh up to his first knuckle.

“Yes you are,” he shakes his head. “What about today turned you on the most?”

“The plane was challenging,” you gulp. “But when you tell me what you’re going to do to me later, I love that. And I like when you touch me.”

“Of course you do,” he coos, his thumb finding your clit, rubbing over it lightly.

You jerk as he grazes the most sensitive part of you. You’ve been throbbing since the flight and this might prove to be your undoing.

“I’m gonna cum if you keep doing that.” Your mouth falls open, fighting the urge to close your legs around his hand.

“That’s not the way to ask.” He presses harder at your clit and you groan as his fingers sink deeper inside you. “What you meant was may I cum?”

“May I cum?” you rasp, shifting in the seat, canting your hips forward for relief but it only makes it worse.

“Absolutely not,” he quips, giving your clit one last press before removing his hand from between your legs. “Open your mouth.” You do as he says, jaw falling open as he slides his two sullied fingers over your tongue. “Suck.”

You can taste your own pussy on him. This act elicits a kind of strange arousal that you never knew would turn you on until he did it the first time. As he begins to slide his fingers deeper, you wonder if he’ll ever have you suck his cock after he fucks you, make you swallow his shaft, coated in your slick.

His fingers push deeper and you gag for a moment before regaining control, opening your throat so that he can push as deep as he wants. You’ve taken his cock deeper than this, but it’s an altogether different feeling to have his fingers wiggling in the back of your throat.

“Look at me.” He commands and you snap to attention, wide-eyed while he fucks your mouth with his fingers. A tear slides down your cheek, as you clench your thighs together. Your throat makes its own unique squelching sound and it’s enough to make your cunt clench, the thought of him using you like this is filthy and beyond exciting.

“That’s enough for now I think.” He removes his finger from your mouth and you close your eyes, trying to pull yourself together. He plucks a kleenex from his pocket and wipes his hand off before lifting your leg off him.

--

“You know,” he leans back in his seat, sipping a glass of seltzer. “It used to be when I went on these trips I’d eat alone or order room service. Having you here is far more entertaining.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying our arrangement.” You smile, crossing your ankles under the table. “Can I ask you something?”

“You can ask,” he volleys back. “But I may not answer.”

“Why don’t you drink alcohol? Is it just the whole health thing?”

“Partly,” he concedes, setting his drink on the table but keeping his hand over it. “Alcohol does a lot of damage to your liver over time. But more than that, I am in complete control of myself. Aware of my surroundings. There are dark things in this world, bad things happen all the time and most people never see it coming. After something terrible happens people tell themselves there’s nothing they could have done, but most of the time that’s just a load of shit. There’s almost always more that can be done. They could have paid attention, been more careful, worked harder. I don’t drink because I want to see what’s coming.”

“Well.” You sit back. “I thought you were just gonna feed me some line about being on Keto or something.”

He laughs at that, a deep laugh that puts a genuine smile on his face.

It makes sense from what you know about him professionally and personally. At W & S there are people coming at him from all sides, there’s always a new offer, a pitch for the next great idea. And after what Max and Pepper told you about his girlfriend and brother, this falls right in line. The rug has been pulled out from under him before, he’s not about to let it happen again.

“I have a question for you.” He sits forward with that trademark soul-piercing stare.

“Okay.” You nod. “I’m an open book.”

“What were you doing delivering mail?” He looks genuinely perplexed, eyes narrowing. “I know you said that you wanted experience in a professional environment, but why not a receptionist? You’re intelligent, attractive, well-spoken when you want to be. What brought you to the W & S mail room?”

You’re quiet for a moment, looking down at your hands folded in your lap. You look back at him before you speak. “You did.”

“What do you mean?” His interest is peaked.

“I worked in a factory, by choice more than anything. I can work hard when I need to, but the truth is I hate it. I’m a daydreamer by nature. Anyway, I was watching my life pass me by. One night I was scrolling on Facebook and came across your TED Talk, the one you did in Palo Alto. You talked about personal accountability and making changes and committing to them. It was what I needed to hear at that moment. I Googled you, found out your firm was in Boston and I applied for the first job I thought I could get. Not because I was trying to get close to you, or anything stalkery, just because I wanted to be around that kind of energy. I spent the last twenty-eight years around stoners and dropouts. I’m ready for more.”

“Really?” He grins, looking at you with some kind of new found appreciation. “So there is a little bit of a go-getter in you.”

“You have no idea, Mr. Winchester,” you tease, leaning toward him. “With the proper motivation, I bet I could do just about anything I put my mind to.”

“I’ll take that as a challenge.” He lifts his chin in your direction.

-

Parts Nine and Ten are currently available on Patreon for a monthly pledge of $2.50. This includes early access to all my stories and Patreon exclusive content.  >> CLICK HERE <<