#if anyone knows the credit for that first art please tell me!!! I couldn't find it though :/

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

confusing entity that bites and holds on; if you hold onto something long enough it becomes love

Mary-Alice Daniel // Natalie Wee // Silas Denver Melvin // art source unknown // Natalie Diaz // The Mountain Goats // TV Tropes page on "snake versus mongoose" // Susan Sontag // Euripides tr. Anne Carson // TV Tropes // Pinterest // caption via tags by @brown-little-robin

[ultimateissuessimp]

Lost and Found

Chapter 1 - Time for a hunt

Word count: 1,491

Warnings: descriptions of gore (will be marked with = at the moment it starts and with = when it ends), mentioned death of a character, trauma, bad writing

Genre: Angst, fluff, hurt/comfort

Notes: All dividers that I use are made by me (If you see art that I have used, but not credited - please notify me), you might notice that even though it says "featuring Team Free Will" there's not a lot of them there as one would think. In fact they are not even mentioned by their names which was intentional ince the sotry does not focus on them but the reader and Morpheus, they're the ones that matter the most after all.

The young man was pacing around in his living room. Thoughts running tons of kilometers a second as he tried to think through everything that was said to him a minute ago. He couldn't believe what he just heard, in fact he thought that he has misheard what he was told, but the truth was that his hearing was working perfectly, it was just the fact that the information was so shocking it was hard to believe. He never would've thought that THIS might happen. Yet here he was, finally stopping his frantic walking in front of the raven haired man. He wanted to make sure one last time.

-So you want to tell me that Valgrat is wandering around somewhere here in The Waking? - the hunter asked looking with bewilderment at the powerful being standing before him. The information still not really coding in his brain. That is so not what he expected to hear first thing in the morning, not before even having his first cup of coffee to start the day.

-Yes, Y/N, I wouldn't be here if it wasn't urgent and I didn't need your help with bringing him back to The Dreaming - said the anthropomorphic personification of dreams as he looked ahead through the window in the hunter's apartment. He had no other choice but to come and ask the man for help. He was desperate. His creation wandered into the human realm and caused a bunch of chaos, not to even mention his decision of having some humans as a late night snack. He had to bring him back, but he couldn't find him. He was hiding very well, his ability to shape and take face of anyone he wanted making everything harder. So who else if not a certain Nightmare Hunter with whom he had shared some history could help him in finding his lost Nightmare?

The immortal started pacing once more, furthermore annoying the Endless. Dream grabbed Y/N by his arm making him stop in his tracks and pulled him to himself, so they were face to face. The hunter's eyes widened as he stood so close to the Dream Lord, swallowing hard the saliva that gathered in his mouth, feeling his dry throat finally get some lubrication. He wasn't used to being so close to someone, even though both him and Morpheus shared some past together. But that's what their situationdhip was - a past, so standing so close to him now was sending his heart into a cardiac arrest. Clearly he couldn't still feel something after so long? But oh god, what if he was? This simple thought made a blush appear on the man's cheeks. The Endless raised an eyebrow wlhen he saw it, but said nothing, making a mental note to ask about it after all of this is over.

-Please, help me find him and I won't bother you again - said Morpheus. His heart had a different opinion on this matter than his brain. It was screaming at him to never leave again. To fix what was between them, because surely something was still there. He could feel it, yet he didn't know what to do in this situation. Morpheus didn't want to appear as if he was in need of the hunter's affection and attention, his ego oh so ever present. He was an Endless for the sake of all that is present. He had his duties, he was a King, he was as old as the need to sleep and dream was. So why did he feel helpless and his "soul" feel like it was yearning and longing to reach the man's in front of him? Why did it feel so freeing and good to be in his presence? As if his whole body was singing.

-Okay... I'll help you - Y/N nearly added that Dream didn't have to feel like he was bothering him. That he doesn't have to leave, that he could stay and he wouldn't mind. He wanted him to stay. He felt the need to plead Morpheus not to leave him again. But he didn't say it. His own pride blinding him and not letting him say those words to not appear as if he was begging and craving for the raiven haired man's love. Begging was not "in his style". So he stayed silent. Words caught in his throat.

-Thank you, lo-Y/N - Morpheus quickly stopped himiself from making, in his perspective, a mistake. He coughed and took a step back.

He couldn't do it. Not again. Not after what happened last time. He couldn't repeat his mistakes, no matter how tempting it was. Y/N's eyes widened visibly, shocked at the Endless's little slip up, his heart skipping a beat. This couldn't be happening. Not now. Not after so many years. Why now? After he fially made peace with all of it? Or at least he thought he did. A thousand questions swirling around in his mind. A thousand questions that want to spill out of his mouth and engulf Morpheus, suffocate him wanting to get answers. But he didn't let them. He kept his lips tightly shut as he slowly nodded and turned around, his back now facing Morpheus.

-Yeah, uh... No problem, after all that's what I do, isn't it? - He said, still slightly flusttered. - So, do you have any idea where Valgrat might be? Just a general area? I can start digging from there on - the hunter announced, a shiver going through his whole body as he felt the gust of cold wind slip through the cracked open window of his apartment. He didn't even remember when he had opened it. But it didn't matter as Morpheus went up to it and closed it, seeing Y/N's reaction. He thanked Dream quietly, bashful because of the Endless's action.

-Indeed, I do. It appears that he wandered to an American state called Kansas. I don't know the name of the city he might be in now, but I know the name of one that he was in when he first showed up there - Morpheus said, walking over to the big world map displayed on one of the hunter's walls. He got close to it, searching for a certain name and when he found it, he pointed to it and said its name out loud. - Beloit.

-Then I guess I need to pack my bags and catch a last minute flight to America - Y/N said. - Kansas, here we come! - he exclaimed with mock excitement as he moved from his spot to walk to his bedroom and take out his bags.

He started throwing some different types of clothes into the bag, not really knowing what weather to prepare for, so he just put in a bit of everything. When he was done, he put the bag filled with clothes on the floor, close to the doors and reached of the second one. This one is gonna be so much more fun to fill. Y/N went up to his closet and pushed aside some of the clothing hangers, revealing a wooden wall behind them. He tapped the right upper corner two times with his fingers and the left lower corner three times, performing something like out of Harry Potter. Which wouldn't be far from the thruth because the wooden wall started to push back further into the wall and splitting in the middle, two side going into different directions to finally reveal something that shouldn't be seen by normal people. A hunter-worthy arsenal of weapons. Y/N's little heaven. He had all kind of weaponery in there. From different types and sizes of knifes, machetes and swords to multiple guns. Bigger or smaller, heavier or lighter, small damage or big damage. Take your pick. Hell, even a whip. He packed everything he thought of as needed and closed the bag, taking it into his hand and walking up to the door to pick up the second bag into his other hand.

-Alright. I'm done packing. Do you want to meet already on the spot or...? - a question about having some company with him on the journey to America appearing in his mind, but he stopped himself from asking it.

He thought it would be weird and that surely Morpheus would politely decline, saying that he has business of his to take care of, so it would mean that they would meet on spot. He didn't expect Morpheus's answer in the slightest though.

-No, I can take us there now - the Endless said before walking up to the hunter, pulling out his bag of sand and throwing some around them, then wrapping his arms around the man as if to protect him from any danger while traveling.

Both of them knowing that it was unnecessary, yet neither of them saying or doing anything about it. And then they dissapeared in the small tornado of sand. Direction: Kansas, Beloit!

[savebatsartedition]

A little more Scratchcraft after the scare. :3

Warnings: Fire, cartoon death

(Oh, also, btw, the colors are so off from the screens because I exclusive drew and watched videos with my "red light" on the screen ALL the way up. Lol.)

(Tbh, that last one of Kenpoviper is still the best of the best, honestly.)

This seems to be four years old?

(More notes under the cut.)

Instructions:

2022 Edit: 1, I can't believe this was two years ago, and 2, I don't like this art anymore ahhhhh-

Original Instructions: I AM NOT ENCOURAGING GOING ON YOUTUBE! DO NOT GO NEAR IT IF YOUR PARENTS SAY NO!!!

Press the green flag and use the space key/click/tap to look through my fanart.

PLease don't steal my art, I spent a while on this.

Please don't start an argument in my comment section again.

Here is the first project: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/402453541/

This is technically the third Scratchcraft fanart project I made, but the first one got taken down, it's on my Youtube channel (SavebatsFromScratch), but be warned, it got taken down for blood, and I didn't take it out.

Fanart numbers, BoyMcBoy = 3 Hunted = 6 Potato = 2 Kenpo = 5 AK = 2 Storm = 4 Misq = 2 Magnileve = 1

I didn't draw any of WildCrazyGoose or Mallonations this time because I couldn't find any content that really had anything to do with them, I'm so sorry about that.

Also, the fanarts are arranged in order of which I like the most, the best ones being at the end of the collection.

Sorry, there are not equal amounts of fanart for everyone, some people I was inspired to draw many times, others less so. (not in an offensive way.)

Sorry, none of the lighting makes much sense.

I swear I don't know what is up with me drawing so many drawings of various people falling.

Before anyone reports the project, can you please tell me in the comments what is wrong with it? I'll see if I can fix whatever that thing is after being notified. (Last time a project of mine got taken down, the scratch team didn't explain what was wrong with it well enough for me to be sure what it was.)

I should mention I'm not a furry before someone assumes I am what with all the cat faces I'm throwing around it the comments.

Notes and credits:

The people who made the 15 different songs. Scratch for the place a drew everything. The Scratchers in Scratchcraft.

The Scratchers in Scratchcraft are these guys, go follow and sub to them! @-BoyMcBoy-: McBoy Studios @huntedskelly: huntedskelly @Magnileve: Magnileve @PotatoAnimator: PotatoAnimator @WildCrazyGoose: WildCrazyGoose @unknownscratcher1234: KenpoViper @Haunted_Enderman: StormLordZeus @Misq: Misq @ArcanisHD : Janklin @Mallonations: Mallonations

Also extra shoutout to @unknownscratcher1234, @PotatoAnimator, @huntedskelly, @Misq, @-BoyMcBoy- and @ArcanisHD for looking at the project and saying it was cool (or whatever), it's really awesome to get compliments from the people you are drawing. >^-^<

fanart #art #scratchcraft #ihatehashtags

[terezis]

taz b college au?

"Are you sure you wouldn't like to come home?"

"I'm—"

"You know your tutors will gladly return if I call for them. It isn't any trouble."

"Really, I—"

"They can hardly decline my invitation," the voice on the end of the line says, uncharacteristically haughty, which is how Kravitz knows his mother is taking the piss.

"Mother, five generations of kings and queens have attended Neverwinter University. You went here. This is where you met Lady Istus."

"Oh, is that what this is about? Child, if you wanted to play the field, you know there's no shortage of young men at court who would be thrilled to—"

"Mother!” Kravitz says, voice humiliatingly high, then runs a hand down his face and sighs. "Really, I'll—it’ll be fine. I want to do this. It’s like Istus said, I need to... spread my wings, as it were."

"Strut about and peacock for potential mates, yes. I understand."

"I'll hardly have time to—to peacock. I'm taking twenty-one credits."

"I'm sure you'll be very busy."

"Mother, please," Kravitz says. At least his roommate has yet to arrive; all the better that nobody can hear their rightful Queen harass him about his love life.

"Oh, alright," she says, unbothered. "I suppose I’m just not used to an empty nest. And after the Midsummer Festival—well. You know how I worry."

"There's really no need. As far as anyone knows, Prince Kravitz is taking a gap year before resuming his studies," he reminds her gently. "He's meditating on the delicate balance between life and death at a temple up in the foothills. Nobody's expecting me to be here this semester."

"I suppose so," she says, slow like a dirge. Then, brightly: "I'm more concerned you might set your apartments on fire. Have you ever used a stove before? Are you sure you wouldn’t like me to hire a personal chef?"

"Positive," Kravitz tells her. "That's the whole point of this. I’m here to learn. In fact,” he says, “I'm going to cook myself lunch right now."

"Serenity save you," his mother says with no small amount of humor. She's still unfairly amused even they say their goodbyes and the line clicks off. Honestly, Kravitz takes offense. He can play eleven instruments at a professional level; he'd mastered the scythe by age fourteen. Kravitz has dueled every member of his personal guard back home and unarmed each of them in turn. Surely can take care of himself.

He looks out over the sea of boxes he's yet to unpack—another new and exciting journey to embark upon, folding his own clothes—and wonders which of them might contain foodstuffs. So he's never cooked before. How hard could it possibly be?

#

As it turns out? Very.

Kravitz's dorm—his mother was very generous to call it an apartment—is home to two bedrooms, a bathroom, and a little kitchenette down the hall, not even a tenth of the size of the one back at the Stockade. Still, it seems serviceable enough. Charming, even, in its modesty. Kravitz enters the battlefield armed with a sturdy metal pot and a single wooden spoon, and sets to work boiling water for spaghetti bolognese.

Forty minutes and several first-degree burns later, he decides that he'd actually rather break in the microwave instead. Probably he should have started here. He doesn't even know how long pasta is supposed to cook, and he couldn't find the cookbooks he'd asked the servants to pack. At least Easy Mac deigns to write the instructions on the side.

The front door swings open just as something in the microwave pops and visibly sparks through the tinted window. Kravitz flinches. He's still new to the culinary arts, but he's fairly certain it isn't supposed to do that. The microwave crackles menacingly: shit. His mother was right. Fuck. He takes a step backwards as he's startled by another spark and stumbles right into – uh. 

"Ow, fuck! What the hell?"

Kravitz turns and locks eyes with a stranger; takes in armful of boxes, contents now spilled scattershot across the floor. He winces. "You must be my roommate."

"Not if you fuckin' burn the place down, I'm not!"

Said roommate barely glances his way—instead he hurries past Kravitz towards the microwave, snatching up a dish towel from the counter and yanking the door open; from inside he pulls out the saddest little cup of macaroni anyone ever did see, slightly singed, still smoking.

"My dude. Why the fuck did you cover it in tinfoil?"

"Uh, well, it said to uncover the cup halfway, but I accidentally ripped the film off completely, so..."

Kravitz lets himself trail off. He's a little embarrassed that he's been caught with his ass out, as it were, but he's also weathered a lifetime of court intrigue; the prince has a mean poker face. He's not going to flounder in the face of one man's judgment—even if that man is, now that Kravitz is looking, absurdly hot.

He shrugs.

Absurdly Hot Roommate stares for a long moment, then snorts and dumps the macaroni into the trash. "Let me guess," he says. "Never lived by yourself before? Word to the wise: don't put metal in the microwave, thug. Cree-zus."

Kravitz laughs and rubs at the back of his neck. "Was it that obvious?"

The other man raises a brow and glances towards the woefully abandoned pot full of pasta in the sink.

"Yeah, alright," Kravitz says. "That's fair."

He bends down to pick up some of the mess. It's kitchen utensils, mostly, pans that look well-loved, unlike the shiny new stuff that Kravitz has already gone and fucked up. "I really stepped in it, huh? And here I wanted to make a good first impression. I’m—I’m Keats."

His roommate snickers and squats down besides him, scooping up a handful of spatulas by his feet. “Taako, you know, from—” He coughs a little. “Just Taako. Hope you're better at cleaning the bathroom than you are cooking, handsome. You do all the scrubbing and maybe I'll show you how to make some real mac 'n cheese, nunna that prepackaged garbage. Breadcrumbs for days.”

Kravitz perks up. "You cook? Are you a culinary arts student?"

"’Do I cook,’ he asks. I work in the royal kitchens for half a decade and he asks me if I cook! How do you think I’m paying for this place, huh?”

Kravitz pauses. "Do you... have you met the Queen, then? The Crown Prince?" he asks carefully.

At this Taako laughs outright. "Nah, mama bird and her little chick don't really, uh—they don't mingle with the common folk, if you know what I mean.”

Kravitz's face heats up. "Right, of course," he says. "I've heard they don't get out much."

Taako snorts. “Understatement of the century. S’been a while, but last I heard they were practically shut-ins."

"I don't know, I don't really think you can blame them for being cautious," Kravitz says, brows furrowed. He worries his thumb against his throat. "Especially after last summer. They never caught that fellow, the one from Glamour Springs? Who knows where he is now?"

Taako laughs again, a little too loudly for the very small room. "Yeah, who knows," he says. He stands abruptly, turning towards the hall. "Anyways, I better go get the rest of my stuff. Might get some grub from the dining hall too, tour the campus, who knows. Don't wait up."

Kravitz blinks. "Oh—what should I do with the rest of this? Taako?" But Taako's already out the door.

Well, bugger. That could have gone better.

“This is going to be a long semester,” Kravitz says to no one.

[hopelessdreamersonly]

A FADING MEMORY.

Jean Kirstein x Artist!Reader

angst?

fluff

Hello! It's been a while since I have this idea on mind, but for some reason I felt really willing to do it today, tehee.

I took inspiration from a fanart of Jean where he was trying to draw Marco, but I couldn't find it. :c

Please, if someone find it and know the owner, let me know so I can give them the credits!

Thank you so much and I hope you enjoy it. 💕🐢

It was the ending of the afternoon on a normal day. A few days had passed since your first mission as a member of the military. You've lost a couple colleagues, but you could understand it was something that would become normal.

After putting you now empty plate on the sink and coming back to the dining room, you could see the ambient empty. Well, actually almost empty. A single person could be seen at the end of a desk on the corner of the room. It was Jean. He had his face lying in the palm of his hands while he scratched his head, stepping quickly on the floor.

Anyone could notice easily he was not fine. By otherwise, he seemed to be in agony. While approaching him, you thought it could may be because he was afraid of the death, after seeing it so closely. But Jean was not like that. He was not utterly strong nor absolutely smart, but he did have his strong points like his leadership ability and his good ego. It was exactly because of this last one that you couldn't believe he was just afraid of dying. He would not show it so easily.

— Jean... what happened?

He raised his head quickly, denouncing you failed on your attempt to not scare him using a soft voice. He turned his head to the side, forcing a fake laugh while trying to look manly. It was Jean, after all.

— Haha, what do you mean?! I'm fine. I was just resting here before going to the dormitories.

It was obvious he was lying, but you couldn't just pretend you didn't know he was hurt.

You looked at him for a couple seconds, trying to decide what to do and he didn't make eye contact during this time.

— I see...

You toke a sit besides him on the bank, staring at the nothing in an almost comfortable silence while waiting for him to say or do something.

He slowly started to turn his head back to the front, as if he wanted to look at you but were afraid to.

— Tell me, y/n...

You looked at him quickly noticing his face had now a reddish color and a few drops of sweat in his forehead.

— ... do you remember how Marco's face was?

Was that it? Was that the problem? Jean was so frustrated because he was forgetting his friend's face?

You froze. Not because you forgot Marco's face too, you didn't. But because of that situation. Only now you could understand how dark that was. The blame and the agony a soldier had to pass to help the umanity. The pain and the frustration of forgetting the face of a close friend that died only a couple days ago. And knowing that situation would happen again... that broke your heart.

Jean got sick of your silence and felt stupid for asking something like that.

He cleaned his face with the back of his arm and put himself up, still not looking at you.

— I'm sorry, I shouldn't have ask you that... I'm going to bed.

And he really went.

If he had looked at you even once, he would be able to notice the raising tears stuck in your eye, refusing to get out because of the shook.

You couldn't sleep that night. Still thinking about Jean and what was happening with him.

You put yourself off the bed, sneaking out of the dormitory and going to the library, that was still unlocked for some reason.

You could find easily paper and some pencils, old and still untouched. The soldiers were not that into art or literature.

At all, it took three nights. Three full nights.

You hadn't time during the day and was still kinda rusty by the lack of practice, but still managed to do it.

Before the mission of the day, you ran back to the dormitory, slapping yourself mentally as you forgot to bring what you worked so hard on.

It didn't take long to come back to where the other soldiers were, though.

— Jean!

You finally found him and he instantly looked in your direction, being able to hear your voice after almost three days.

— What do you want?

He was mad, obviously. You "ignored" him in a vulnerable moment and suddenly tried to talk to him, but you could still see he was actually hurt by the way he turned his head to the side and blushed.

— Listen, I'm so sorry if it seemed I ignored you. It was not like that... I've been thinking a lot in what you said and I did something. I hope it can help...

He couldn't help feeling curious about what you made to him when he hesitantly picked the paper of your hands, his eyes going wide and starting to be filled with tears as he looked at the drawing of Marco.

— Thank you... thank you so much, y/n.

He tightened his grip on the paper that now was starting to get soaked by his tears while he tried to cover his face with it.

You hugged Jean's head, bringing it to rest on your chest while you patted his head gently, trying to calm him.

— So he looked like this.

You stayed in that position for a short period of time, but to Jean, who had his eyes shut and was crying the hardest he ever had in the almost flawless drawing you made, it seemed like a eternity where his angst had fade away.

[ahsxual]

Perfect Day

Pairing: Arthur Fleck x Reader

Summary: You and Arthur are excited for your first date, since it's an essencial key for your relationship.

Genre: Fluff

Warning: sexual harassment (literally one sentence, nothing too serious)

Word count: 2,7k

A/N: I don't know how to feel about this one... I wanted it to be romantic and cute, yet I feel this isn't enough to express my feelings for him... anyways, I really hope your opinion is different! :)

Gif Credits: @arthurflecc <33

Today is the day I will finally find true happiness, Arthur thought. Last day, you invited him to have dinner at your place, since none of you could afford an actual date, and that way you could spend some time alone. You work with him as female clown for a couple weeks now and that's where you met him: he, besides Gary, was the only one who's truly kind and respectful, not some jerk like Randall who would always make some unwanted comments on how pretty you are. With that, Arthur got the courage to defend you, a gesture you noticed and really appreciated. That's when you decided to invite him as a thank you gift for what he has done (and maybe because you thought he was really cute and a real gentleman).

To Arthur, that morning seemed brighter than any other he had lived: he could swear that the birds were singing to him, like it was a sign from nature and destiny telling everything was going to finally be ok... as long as he was by your side. This time, the sky wasn't covered by depressive and heavy gray clouds like every other day: instead, it was replaced by the sweet scalding yellow sun and the gorgeous shade of baby-blue. Even the stairs weren't painful to walk anymore and the runs to the bus weren't as stressed and tiring as they used to be. He came down the stairs bouncing with joy, like he was a kid who just got his favorite ice-cream flavor for free. People even looked at him awkwardly, but he couldn't care less. Nothing could ruin this day to him.

Once he entered Haha's, his heart started to beat way too fast once he realized he would see you in a matter of seconds. He couldn't wait any longer, so he quickly ran to the room of clowns, hoping for you to be the first thing he would lay his eyes on once he got there.

"Hi, Arthur!" you happily said as soon as you saw him, realizing that he had been standing there for a while, staring sweetly at you. However you didn't mind: you knew his intentions were utterly good.

"H-hi Y/n! You... you are very... b-beautiful today." he finally got the courage to praise you, to speak his mind out loud, even if he stuttered meanwhile. He was with his red waistcoat and pants, and a white social shirt, an outfit that suits him just perfectly.

"Oh, thank you, you look really good too! And I'm glad you liked it, I want to look good for our tonight's date." you teased him, just to see his cheeks turn redder than they already were. You were with your date's outfit on, because you were planning to go home right after you left Haha's. You wanted to surprise him, however he arrived sooner than you expected, so you didn't have the time to change into your clown's work outfit.

"A date??" he seemed surprised for you considering your meeting an actually date.

"Yeah, sure. Don't you want to call it that way?"

"Yes!! I mean, i-if you want to..." he correct himself, after realizing he sounded too excited than he should.

"Ok, great! Can't wait for tonight." you said gladly, earning a sweet tooth wide smile from him.

"Me too Y/n, me too..." after sharing an intense and intimate exchange of glances, you decided to break the reconforting silence between you. That silence told and shared way more emotions than any possible spoken word, but you couldn't risk any other coworker complain about you two to Hoyt.

"Well, I'm going to get ready now. Talk to you later, ok?"

"Uh... sure." he understood, giving you once again a thin, shy smile.

You both did your work for the rest of the day, not wanting your secret love to interfere and prejudice your professional life. Both of you knew how demanding your boss could be, so you better not test his limits.

The day was finally near to its end, so you went to your locker to collect your belongings and then change into your clothes, before joining Arthur who was already waiting for you outside.

"Are you ready?" you asked once you got near him.

"Absolutely." he calmly, yet enthusiastic answered. You wanted to overcome your shyness, so you slowly interlocked your arms with his. You could tell that he was a little hesitant by the sudden affectionate gesture and seemed to paralyzed, looking intensely at the spot where your arms found each other.

"Arthur? Are you ok?" you were scared that you crossed the line without meaning it.

"Y-yeah! I'm sorry, I'm just... not used to being touched..." he got upset, remembering how miserable and lonely his life was... but not anymore. That's the past, and now you are more then willing to change radically his and your future as well, putting all that suffering and intense pain far far away behind him.

"It's ok Art, you are safe with me, I promise you that. But if I do something that makes you uncomfortable, please let me know." before your lovely night started, you needed to make sure that he would be comfortable: you wouldn't forgive yourself if anything bad happened to the man who supported you and made you feel like the only beautiful woman alive, and you being the responsible for it.

"Thank you, Y/n. That's really nice of you... I really appreciate that." he made that sweet stare towards you, one that makes you melt right away every time.

"Come on Art, my stomach is already complaining." he happily laughed, and you acknowledged his smile.

When you arrived home, it was impossible for you not to notice: he was quiet, yet so observant with everything: sometimes he would even touch so softly your belongings, and you would just smile, feeling nothing but comfort and acceptance. How can anyone consider me as someone so essential and special in their lives?, you deeply thought. But that's just how Arthur was: he always manages to feel like it's only you and him against the world, the rest being irrelevant.

"What do you want to eat? I can make your favorite plate... or at least I can try." you softly laughed, feeling a little nervous by your kitchen skills. You really wanted to impress Arthur... especially on your first of many dates. He then looked at you with wide eyes, swallowing his dry throat from growing anxiety. "What's the matter? Did I do anything wrong?" you started to get even more nervous than you already were, now being you having your mouth and throat dry.

"No, no, you didn't do anything wrong! I-I just..." he paused for a moment, not being able to look at you since he felt very ashamed. "I'm not hungry... I'm sorry..." he said slowly with a low voice, derived from his embarrassment.

"Oh..." you felt a little sad if you were honest: you bought a bunch of food so he could choose freely what he wanted to eat and make this day special by making him a surprise... but you couldn't blame him: you knew about the secondary effects from the meds he takes, the lack of hunger being one of them. "It's fine, don't worry about it." you tried to relax him, which you did since he offered you a kind smile right after, just like his big, yet fragile heart. You tried to think of something else: you couldn't miss this opportunity to be with him, both of you being so busy with your lives that the time you spend together is absolutely rare and precious, being as valuable as gold, or diamonds, or even more. "I got an idea!" a cliche, yet romantic idea came to your mind. "What about... seeing a movie? Or a tv show that you really like? While eating popcorn, obviously." you winked at him.

"Sounds like fun." he smiled. "But... I-I never... ate popcorn. Never had the chance to try it..." he shyly said. You felt bad for him... in our childhood, it's the most delicious thing to eat, a sweet that brings us joy, happiness and even peace, for some. But now, him being in his middle 30's, how has he never eaten or at least tried it?

"Then seems like you're going to have this delicious experience with me instead!" you gently laughed, trying to make him more comfortable. This time he gave you a toothy grin, staring at you like he was in heaven and you were the only pure angel in it. You blushed at his staring, so you decided to look away and do the popcorns instead. "Make yourself at home! You can sit on the sofa if you want." you offered while pointing to the most comfortable furniture you had. He instantly obeyed you, sitting on it awkwardly since he was afraid of doing something wrong that could annoy you. Yup, that was definitely the last thing he wanted to do... mainly on this special day.

Once you finish the popcorn, you sat right next to him, being way closer than he expected. Not that he minded, no no, not at all, but he couldn't help but to shake unstoppably by the complex emotions he was feeling from the warm and soft human contact... from the most perfect human being in his eyes.

"Before we watch it, I want you to prove this delight first. But you have to close your eyes! It will taste better, I promise." you grabbed one popcorn kernel and signaled him to open his mouth. He instantly felt tenser and his frail heart started to beat furiously because of your gesture. If someone had told him when he first saw you, that he would come to your house and spend these moments with you, he would've laughed by the immense unlikelyhood. But here he is: in your house, with you. He shakingly opened his mouth, slowly closing his big ocean eyes right after. When he tasted it, it was like he was 7 again, living his lost happy childhood: it was sweet, crunchy and tasted like happiness, this feeling amplified with you by his side. "How is it?" you curiously asked while smiling by his reaction.

"This is so... wow." that's all he could say.

"You want more? This bowl can be just for you, I will do more for myself." the moment you got up, you felt your arm being gently, yet firmly grabbed.

"Wait!" he suddenly said, removing his hand from your arm right after, not wanting to scare you away. "I-I'd rather share them with you... i-if that's ok..." His shyness was something you could never be tired of: it's one of the words that describe him the best, making him look immensely cute to your eyes. You felt genuinely happy because he was making a move on you: as little or even insignificant that gesture was to everyone else, it meant the world to you.

"Sure, sharing is always better, right?" you shared a glare that spoke the untold love for each other, yet not unknown. "So... what do you want to see?" you finally asked.

"I don't know... maybe-" suddenly he noticed the tv, that was already on, presented the Murray Franklin show, catching immediately his attention. "Murray!!" once he saw it, it was like his shyness was never there: the carefree and excited Arthur who you never had the chance to meet, was now shown. You even felt jealous for a moment, seeing all his attention was now in the show.

"Oh, you like Murray? I watch him from time to time, the show is really funny." he turned his attention to you again, seeming surprised by your answer.

"You do...?" his grin shined even more once he discovered you had more things in common, one of them being something he admires and even considers as a dream, the main goal in his professional life.

"Of course! Who doesn't like to laugh and relax after a tiring day of work? Laughing is the best medicine for happiness." his smile broke, slowly decreasing into nothing. "I mean, when you really want to laugh, not when you have to." you remembered his condition, so you corrected yourself.

"I heard that my whole life, so I guess you're right..." he seemed mindful, looking and playing with his own worn hands. You gently grabbed his hand into yours.

"Don't worry Arthur, I'll make sure you really laugh, not just because you can't control it or because you forcely have to. I promise you... I will do my best to make you happy everyday." these moments and words were unforgettable to him. He couldn't see his life without you anymore: the only way he could be truly happy is by your side, the only way he could survive... is only by your side.

"Thank you, Y/n. I... I-I really enjoy these moments I spend with you. They're the only thing that make me feel happy and alive. You make me feel like... like I'm real and seen... and you have no idea how much that is important to me." you felt so proud of him for being able to speak from his mind and heart without hesitance, and utterly special for being the only one who entirely owned his trust.

"You don't need to thank me, Art. It's my pleasure to be with you, a man who's so kind and respectful like you. If others can't see it, it's not your fault. Like I use to say, it's their loss for not seeing someone so good in front of them. But I can see it... and we all only need the ones who really care about us in our lives, the rest is just the rest. They don't matter." now was your turn to speak the honest truth. He didn't have to say anything for you to understand how right and perfect he thought you were: it was like destiny was telling him to not let you escape... because you are his soulmate, his one and only person who came to this world with the purpose of filling him, to fill his heart with pure love, compassion and comprehension. "Oh, the show has already started!" both of you were so distracted or, should I say, so concentrated on each other, that you didn't even notice what was happening around you: the world always stops when you are together.

Once you decided to see the show, you shared the made popcorn and some laughs, Arthur always making sure you would laugh when he would. Every time Murray made a joke, Arthur looked at you, concentrated on your expressions while admiring your beauty. It was an incredible spent night: you laughed, ate popcorn together, supported each other... with time, you even hugged him softly, only for him to gladly return it, yet shyly, as predicted. If you two were honest, you would admit that you wanted so badly to share a sweet, passionate and meaningful first kiss... but that has to be preserved for your future dates, since the respect you have for one another it's incomparable to any other: you want things to happen naturally, without hurry, because what begins fast... ends quickly as well, and that's the last thing you want to happen, for sure.

This was the last piece of the puzzle that was needed to finally go forward your relationship: you belong to each other, like your hearts are attached and only function correctly when you are together, like the universe had and still has wonderful plans for you... and both of you are so glad to finally be able to be by your soulmate's side... forever.

[heresathreebee]

Dirty Water

Benny 'Borracho' Magalon x Robyn Banks (Black!OC)

Summary: Robb met a couple of shady characters calling themselves cops. Well it just so happens they are, and they're worse than she first thought.

Masterlist

Word count: 2.5k words

Rating/Warning(s): +16 Mature | kidnapping, mild torture, tied up, wanna be clear: IRL I do not condone hooking up with a person who kidnapped you or was complicit in kidnapping you, it just don't work out like that in reality

AN: so basically I'm gonna write and post this in whatever order I please, then go back and figure it out later. Since my brain has jumped back on the Pascal bandwagon, it's hard to focus outside of his body of work but I'm still coming back to this story with relative ease.

Just when she'd started to warm up again, a another shower of ice cold mop water was pitched over her head. Robyn sputtered and coughed, trying not to swallow the suds in her mouth or let them see her cry to keep the dirt out of her eyes. From the shadows that danced beyond her eyelids, she could tell the alleged cop who called himself Nick was crouching in front of her. 

"Last chance, sweetheart," the dirty cop said. "Tell me how you know Tony D'Onofrio." 

Fuck. 

Seven years ago, two federal agents walked in on officer Robyn Banks being sentenced to traffic duty. She didn't mind– she was fed up with the secrets her colleagues were forcing her to keep anyways. Maybe stepping down could help her clear her head, maybe give her time to compartmentalize those events and feelings. Only now could she say that the rest of her career was already out of her hands. 

"Those agents on that file? They approached me about D'Onofrio. Said he was my moby dick. Made a big deal about 'justice' and 'law and order' and 'the sanctity of the badge." Robyn spit more mop water onto the floor and continued, "I told them I didn't know what the fuck it had to do with me and they just sorta looked at each other." 

The blond man– Nick called him Z, she thinks– crossed his arms. "Quit jerkin us around, Banks, get to the fucking point." 

Nick held up a hand. "Easy, tiger. I asked for a story and that's what I'm hearing. Keep going, Robbie." 

Robyn scowled on the inside. "They told me he was my father. More like a sperm donor than anything, he probably didn't even know I was alive." 

"Now that is interesting," Nick purred. 

He cut the zip tie binding her arm to the rolly chair and handed her a towelette to wipe her eyes. She dared not reach for the tie on her other arm, lest her captors think she's pulling a move to escape. Instead she dabbed the sweat and mop water that soaked into the skin of her neck and face to pause and think about her next words. 

"That was the basis of the deal. I join their investigation undercover, see if I can get somewhere with my connection, and help them put one of the biggest crime bosses on this side of the coast away for good. In exchange, I get to call the shots, they'd put in a good word with my CO and elevate me to detective status instead of beat cop." 

"Thought you liked being a beat cop," the one in the silk flamingo shirt said. 

"Apparently nobody believes that." 

"So," Nick steepled his fingers beneath his aquiline nose in thought, "your end of the deal wasn't even your idea? How does that work?" 

"Sounds like she got something else out of it," the bald man in the white polo accused. 

Robyn glared at him, but she didn't contradict him. If she wanted to be listened to, she needed to stay calm. Stay calm, stay alive. Go home with the minimal amount of PTSD. 

"Do you want me to tell you what happened or not?" When nobody raised any more objections, she continued. "I agreed to their terms. Next I know, I'm climbing the criminal ladder, dropping bread crumbs about my parentage, two years goes by, yada yada yada, and then bam. I have a meeting with the heir apparent to the Italian mafia. 

"At that meeting I told Tony D'Onofrio he knew my mother and that I knew they had been dating around the time I was born–" 

"Conceived–" 

"Yeah that– he stared at me for so long I forgot how to breathe and then… he… believed me." 

A pin dropped somewhere in the empty parking garage. A dog barked wildly a mile away but could still be heard in the silence that followed. Robyn still couldn't believe he'd bought it either. 

"He just… believed you," Nick said skeptically. 

Robyn could do nothing but shrug. "I never got the details, I couldn't ask my mom about it and Tony never gave me any indication that he knew about me before that meeting. He just asked me what I wanted and did it." 

Nick dragged his eyes over her form, shivering and glistening, and then-- "what did you ask him?" 

Robyn felt her eyes gloss over as she tried to remember what mysterious force compelled her to say the exact right words. "I told him all I wanted was for him to know, to see him with my own eyes and know he was real. I said I didn't need any favors or special treatment. I just needed some closure." 

That was all. And the agents had been fucking furious with her. They had accused her of using them, of being a traitor and a spy for D'Onofrio or a mastermind cat-woman type villain and all manner of other terrible things. They were ready to pull the plug on the whole operation when Tony had offered her a better job. A job where she would come face- to- face with every schmoe on Tony's payroll. 

"Tony offered me a job 'running errands.' Not quite in his inner circle but higher in his ranks than I had any business being," Robyn said. "Most of the people doing these jobs were kids, easy to get around the city undetected and reliable. Now he knew I wasn't a kid but I guess he wanted to see more from me, put his best eyes on me to see if I was legit." 

Nick nodded and stood up (his knees popping like broken branches). He walked over to Murphy in the flamingo shirt and passed a few inaudible words between them. Robyn wasn't skilled in the art of lip reading, and failed to catch anything from Murphy except the word 'pointless.' It rubbed her the wrong way, sending a spark of fear through her that quickly dulled back into the numbness of being helplessly bound to a chair. She needed to finish this soon before she completely cracked. 

Nick returned to her side, chasing some pepto bismol with a flask of what smelled like tequila in it. "That's a very sweet story, Robbie, really it is. But… what I wanna know is why you're not in this file." 

"That's not what you asked me," she griped, then backpedaled into, "I'm trying to tell you why I'm not in the file. But in order to tell you that, I have to tell you what was left out of the file first. I'm getting to the point, I just… there's a lot of shit to sift through." 

Nick nodded like a patient father (yeah, right). "Just the good parts then." 

"Yeah," she nodded quickly, "just the good parts..." 

"The good parts, uhm. Well he did learn to trust me. I barely had to do anything just… let him try to kindle a relationship between us. I started calling him dad at his request, nobody bothered me or questioned me after that and I didn't abuse it, expect on the downlow giving info to the feds. He liked that about me– he liked me. We'd talk about my mom and he'd let his guard slip, started taking me to his meetings and asking me to deliver his important paperwork." 

"I let him think I was with him and documented everything I could for six more years." In truth, she had had some doubts. About putting him away and the vacuum of power it would create, about the dichotomy of good versus evil, about her career. In that last year, she had actually warmed to the idea of becoming a detective and getting to do work with her own moral backbone and not someone else's. "We made the arrest January 19th and put him away for a dime." 

Nick leaned so far forward in his chair Rob had to lean back. "This is the part where you wrap it up, sweetcheeks." 

Robyn gulped. "Gomer and Valentine pushed me out. They'd been acting really strange at the end, wearing these shit eating grins and looking at each other, and then they iced me out. Had me fired on the grounds that I was too close to the perp, used a fucking Christmas photo for evidence. There went the Italian mob's heir and seven years of hardwork, and I wouldn't even be mentioned by name in the case file. No testimony, no credit, just a dishonorable discharge and dumped on my ass in the streets." 

"Wow." Nick rubbed a hand down his face like he was the exhausted one. "That's quite the story, princess." 

He looked at each of his mates, every face stonier than the last. Especially the silent one's, the latino guy. Then he looked back at Robyn and smiled with a lot of teeth. 

"I do have some questions though, if you'll let me." Sure like I have a choice. "Now it wasn't public knowledge you were in on the investigation, but I find it hard to believe your dad's lackeys didn't know it was you who turned him in. And what I find even harder to believe is that they'd let you live for it." 

Robyn said nothing. There was a part of her that didn't quite grasp it either. When she had arrested him, when she'd slapped the cuffs on him herself and read him his Miranda rights, after the shock of her betrayal wore off, Tony had congratulated her. 

"I'm proud of you, kid. You may be a narc but at least you got your head straight. You got guts, kid." 

As far as she understood it, his last order as the leader of the mafia was not to harm her in any way. Nobody bothered her. They still knew her face on the streets, sent glares her way but never touched her. One of his underlings had come to her place and suggested she skip town permanently just to be safe. It was not a courtesy she ever expected from anyone let alone a man with a reputation for high profile robbery and murder. 

She didn't know what to expect. "I guess he really did love me." And Nick left it at that. 

~

Robyn was unbound, blindfolded, and dumped right back onto the street those so called cops had snatched her from. Her legs shook as she walked the last block to her place, utterly miserable and in desperate need of some sleep. Maybe tomorrow she could figure out what the fuck her life had come to. She showered (and cried) and picked up the half drunk beer from her fridge and brought it out on her front steps, taking a sip of the flat beverage and wishing it was something stronger. 

People passed below her on the streets, never once looking up. The traffic never disappeared but it did lull this time of night. She didn't mean to– barely noticed she was doing it– but she found a pack of cigarettes in her overcoat and lit one up. 

"Next time," she promised herself. I'll try to quit next time. 

Just as she was beginning to ease the tension that had been weighing on her all night, a man climbed the steps to her building and pointedly slowed down to a stop a few feet away from her. She chanced a glare at him and found him no stranger which was somehow infinitely worse. 

"Fuck off," her nerves got the better of her, "I told you everything, can't I at least get some sleep first?!" 

The man lifted his hands in defense, carrying a bottle in a brown bag in one of them. He was, well, he was the handsome one. The Cuban with the neck tattoo and broad shoulders. His eyes seemed a lot softer now Despite the dark setting. 

"Swear on my life, I'm not here for Nick." He took a single step up, waiting to see how she'd react, and when she didn't run, he took another and set the covered bottle down next to her before backing off. Still skeptical, Robyn carefully unwrapped the thing, revealing an expensive looking wine label. Dark red. "It's an apology," he explained with his hands in his pockets, "Nick thinks he's this big, clever actor but he can be a real bully when he drinks." 

Robyn gave him the 'do I look like an idiot' eyebrow and he had the decency to look at his feet. "We could really use your help with this, Banks. Nick forgot to mention the part where Tony was put on parole for good behavior. He'll be out tomorrow." 

"He what." That's just the thing isn't it? The case that ended her career permanently and he just got to walk off after only serving two years of his sentence. That was the real crime here. Robyn gritted her teeth, gripped the neck of the bottle and squeezed. She started shaking it like it was her criminal father, or the weasel federal agents who took her credit, or the dirty cops who kidnapped her tonight. 

Borracho looked concerned. "Do you need a corkscrew or– " 

Robyn shrugged off her jacket and looked him dead in the eye as she wrapped it around the base of the bottle and gently banged it on the porch step until the cork exploded into the air (along with a third of the bottle's contents but whatever). Borracho raised a hand to protect his face from the spray, and turned away to hide a silly grin. 

"Nevermind," he said, shaking the excess drink off his hand. "Listen, if he calls you about anything, please let us know." 

He pointed to the bag, which had a phone number on it. "Don't let your work be in vain." 

"You try that line on everybody?" Rob was feeling a little facetious in the face of mercy, over tired from the revelations, and pissed off by these fucking pigs. "Your good cop, bad cop routine needs some balance. Did you know I was kidnapped today? Now this wine is a start but you'd better step it up, good cop." 

He started to walk away but she called out, "I got Nick, Z, and Murphy. Clocked 'Gus' by the name written on his underwear. Which one are you?" 

"Benny," he threw back, and disappeared into the nighttime traffic. 

"Benny," Rob scoffed. "Cute ass." 

Robb drank the equivalent of two glasses, then passed out from exhaustion. She slept dreamlessly and tried to forget last night had ever happened. Benny, in the meantime, returned to the office where his crew was huddled around a phone receiver. 

"Don't appreciate you throwing me under the bus, B," Nick growled from his seat. 

"Shup up and drink this," Benny pushed the glass of raw eggs closer to his boss' hand, a so called 'hangover cure'. Nick shrunk back a little.

"Told you she'd be sweet on him," Z elbowed Murphy in the ribs and ignored his protesting 'um actually I said that.' 

"Wouldn't call her sweet," Benny said, grunting as he took up residence at his own desk. "She looked like a feral cat." 

Nick laughed. "Yeah well don't go getting mixed up with that pussy, B, we've got work to do." 

It was gonna be another long night for everybody. 

[minthysugamon]

Everybody wants to Rule the World. (Part 2)

Noble Assistant,Sergeant! Namjoon x Assassin! Reader.

1789! AU

Word Count: 2,111 (angel number go brrr again)

Warnings: Slight misogyny,beheading,blood,death...i think that's all.

(Credit for the Original Photo: @/athenaa. I only edited it a little bit. But all credit goes to the original artist who posted the photo first in it's original version)

(Painting: La liberté guidant le peuple by Eugène Delacroix)

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12 Août,1787. (Flashback)

After reading every word of Voltaire,Maximilien became more and more riled up by the thrill of the revolution. The adrenaline of change was getting the best of him,he had no time to care about his little sister,(Y/n) Robespierre,who would simply block him from getting in the city. The Robespierre family was more than just concerned about their eldest child,the Gem of their family. (Y/n) hated the injustice their father casted upon them. She wanted to learn,he wouldn't let her. Henriette tried to reason her but stubborn,like her brother,she went up in Paris,alone,in the quest of knowledge.

After arriving at Le Marais,her first goal was to find her brother. Nothing more,nothing less. And finding him,she did. But not in his expected state. "Maximilien,laissez moi entrer.¹" A groan was heard from the man but he got up to let his sistet in. "What are you doing here? I told you to stay at home,in Arras. Is it so hard to follow my or father's wishes?" He sighed and pulled a chair out for her. 'How chivalrous.' (Y/n) thought to herself. "Mon frère,i came here to ask you a favor." Her eyes,full of hope,heart racing,the negative answer from him already anticipated. "And what would that favor be? If it's to join some political club,it's a no. And i won't listen to any begging. No is-" "I know. No is no. I don't even want to join those. All i wanted to ask from you is to teach me the art of law."

Maximilien sighed. He knew she will never be accepted as a lawyer,as much as she wanted. In the end,(Y/n) was a woman. Not a male apprentice. But a simple woman. "So...? Will you please teach me...?" Her voice resonated through the small living room,a hint of hope and a dust of desperation sticking to it. "No. I can't. I already taught you everything you had to know. I can't teach you more." Maximilien simply sat down on a chair,looking at her. How could have his sister,a woman from such a delicate mother,turned out like a man? "Is it because i'm a woman?" "It's because you won't be accepted. I'm only doing you a favor here,if you haven't noticed. Ta demande est ridicule. Et tu le sais très bien.² I won't let a Robespierre be turned into laughing stock. Not only your honor depends on it,but our whole family's."

Objecting her brother was the worst thing she could ever do. The man was stubborn and always stuck to his own ideologies for the better or the worst. "But you know-" "STOP IT. NOW. I DON'T WANT TO HEAR ABOUT THAT ANYMORE. I SAID NO. AND NOTHING WILL CHANGE THAT. YOU ARE A WOMAN. KNOW YOUR PLACE FOR GOD'S SAKE." The heavy breathing coming from the eldest was enough to make the atmosphere heavy between them. (Y/n) stood up and put the chair back as if she was never on it. "Alright. Thank you for your time,Maître Robespierre. Je me tâcherai à ne plus vous contre-dire.³" Stepping out of the residence,(Y/n) let the door slam against it's frame. The silence was too heavy around Maximilien. He wanted to tell her he's sorry,but he knew it won't change anything. Her pride was too high for her own good. So he put his aside for once,as unwilling as he was. "Alright. Come back. If you want to learn. You will learn. From me. But don't tell anyone about this. Est-ce clair?⁴"

The young woman's eyes lit up. For the first time,she achieved to coerce something useful out of her brother,something that will be helpful for her future. "Crystal clear,Maximilien." She did a 180 and started walking towards the door of the small and stuffed place the elder was living in,passing right beside him. "So? When do we start? I wanna know everything." An innocent but playful smile spreading on her face as she spoke took Maximilien by surprise. "Quoi?⁵ Not even a simple thank you?" The tone in his voice was laced with fake-hurt. He was annoyed but somewhat proud of her sister's persuasion skills. If she was a man,she would've been a very good lawyer. Putting ultimatums where they belong,it requires skill.

14 Juillet,1789.

After getting some powder,Namjoon was finally recharging his gun,the fact he owed his life to a revolutionist still had him shocked. 'Why?' wasn't his only question though,he wanted to know more about that woman. "COUPEZ-LUI LA TÊTE!⁶" the chant of the crowd grew louder and louder as his foster father was escorted by some peasants. While the sergeant of the troop was laying dead jn the hallway,the squad's organisation itself was frantic,none of them had endured such debauchery before.

"Sir,what should we do? We can't let the colonel down." One of the soldiers finally spoke up after a long moment of silence. His ears were ringing. The loud gun noises made him lose all auditory senses,but he still spoke up despite not being able to think clearly and having no military experience. "Wait here. If i signal the path is cleared,you follow. Divide in two divisions. We can't sacrifice anyone. If anything,i prefer sacrificing myself if there's a chance to lead you into safety. May God be with all of you."

Namjoon had no idea what came over him and moreover had no idea how to command,but he strong leadership De Launay has showed during his younger years may have stuck with him. One thing is sure,he won't commit the error of turning his troops against himself. Maybe getting killed was his destiny after all,but he would do everything in his power to not have the one who raised him killed. After hiding behind a pillar,the man signaled to the first troop to come and hide behind the chariot. The chariot the battle was going on for,the precious gun powder those uncultured men couldn't use. Hell,even him,he was new to the battle but the situation couldn't degrade more.

"Here's what we're going to do. We have to use up all the powder while the second troop can finally get to safety. Negociating with these savages already failed,we have to act." The youngest soldier, Nathanaël du Rhône, looked him in awe, their leader, Kim Namjoon, the man who was once a Stranger, was more worried about their safety than his. The newly appointed Staff Sergeant pointed to Nathanaël. "You. Signal to the others that they can come,then hide and leave. You have more than just a fight to live. The others,you come with me. Hide,aim and charge. I'll signal you when to shoot." De Launay has noticed his son due to his inattention,his hat was in the wrong direction. He simply smiled at the determination of the young chief then mouthed a simple 'You'll be alright son." in his direction while the three man were still escorting him out to the court of the prison.

"Wait....Now. Shoot." And the men acted as Namjoon said,including himself. They fired the shots,simultaneously touching the three who were holding the Colonel. Recharge,aim shoot again all the people who were flocking in the court. Once they had no other choice and were blocked,the hiding spot was discovered too. But he won't let his men down easily,he wasn't raised to do so. "Gather the explosives. We must light them and decimate the crowd or else this hell will never end."

After throwing one of the smoke torches in the crowd,he started running towards his elder, successfully stabbing one of the new detainers in the throat with the bayonette of his shotgun. "Père.⁷You must come. I beg you." De Launay simply nodded a no and smiled "My destiny was to die protecting the king and the prison. Now go before they get you too. You're too young to die." Namjoon wanted to do another round before he saw the head of the Colonel falling,in addition thhe man's blood splattered over his face as he wasn't more than 3 meters away. "Chef. Ils nous ont encerclé⁸. We must go." A new smoke torch was thrown by the youngest soldier on the ground,blinding the revolutionists as he held back his chief from going rampage over the ones who killed the one he called father. "NO I CAN'T. I CAN'T LET HIM DIE." Namjoon screamed frantically as Nathanaël was pulling him by the arm, at the same time asking for help from his troop mates. Two other men came to hold the new and young Sergeant down,escorting him to a hiding place,not wanting to lose their only commandant in this butchery.

15 Juillet,1789.

After staying up all night,the sun was rising. 'Finally', (Y/N) thought to herself. The night was long enough already when she simply had woken up from night terrors and waited for the light of the day to reassure her,but now that she had to wait for her brother, it seemed like an eternity. Sitting on the roof of the house Maître Robespierre lived in,she had the privilege to eat something that many couldn't, an apple. The thought of saving that guy in the early afternoon was prancing around her mind, not fully understanding why she did what she did. 'I should've killed him. Now he's one of my countless problems.' Her inner monologue was eating her up,much like she was munching on the green fruit. Due to the bad harvests of the previous years,it was as sour as her mood.

After finishing the apple,eating the core,even if it was more than just acidic and putting the seeds into a small pocket of her leather pants,she knew she should get down the roof and change back into her normal attire to hide her activity. As long as Maximilien didn't know about anything,she was safe. He wouldn't condone her actions even if she was killing the noblemen he oh so strongly opposed. As murderous as his desires were, the thought of a woman being better than him made his skin crawl. The crowd had finally died down too,people went back to their residences or the small shelter they were at to sleep,it was around two in the morning that the chants started to become more and more quiet and at three,not a single soul was seen wandering the streets. It was although now five in the morning and she knew,her brother would soon come back from the whorehouse he went to. After finally getting into her dress,she went out the door to finally get some bread. 'Oh to be a man and not give a piece of mind about the opinions of others.' she thought as she entered the local bakery.

"Bien le bonjour, mademoiselle⁹ ,early today,i see! Let me guess,the usual or are we changing it up today?" The baker, Jean-Hugues Lefèvre, was known for his kindness towards his costumers although since bread was a missing article nowadays,he always managed to sneak some to the poorest families,giving up his rations to save others. The baker had already started packing the two loaves,as usual until his actions were interrupted by (Y/n)'s voice.  "Just one loaf will be enough,thank you. I'm only buying for my brother,i am going back home today." As he was choosing the best loaf,he raised an eyebrow. "Oh? So soon? It hasn't been two months thought,as you said ten days ago." She smiled awkwardly,not knowing how to engage in the small talk,making herself feel smaller. "Well...i guess the Parisian air made me feel a little bit exthau-" her phrase couldn't be finished as somebody barged into the shop.

"Bonjour, Monsieur Lefèvre." The intruder was a tall man,smelling like gunpowder and cologne "Bonjour, Sergent Kim. Congratulations on your rank. You fought well. I am sorry about what happened with the Colonel. What can i serve you with?" Jean-Hugues gave (Y/N) the loaf as he told her the price and the  another man looked at her. "Three loaves please..." Thoughtful was the only way to describe him once he caught a look of the eyes of the woman,and (Y/N) had a suspicion why,so she ushered herself out of the bakery. "Wait a minute." The man called out. So she turned around "Yes?" Trying to seem confident out of the cape and mask that hid her face yesterday was harder to do than to say. "Haven't we met somewhere?" A genuine curiosity was displayed on his face. As much as she knew the right answer,the lie was necessary. "I don't think so. Have a nice day,Monsieur Lefèvre." And the girl started heading to the Robespierre residence.

Left dumbfounded and with three loaves for his 10 men, Namjoon was thinking about where he had seen those eyes before. "The girl from yesterday."

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Translations

¹ Let me enter

² Your request is ridiculous. And you know that well.

³ I'll make sure to never argue with you again.

⁴ Is it clear?

⁵ What?

⁶ Chop his head off!

⁷ Father.

⁸Chief,they have surrounded us.

⁹Well good morning there,Miss.

A/N: Hello there. There will be probably a part 3,but i don't know when. I don't promise it will be before april but i'll try to write it before. Please note that i try to stay as close to history as possible but as this is an AU,there are some modifications here and there. This is pure fiction please do not take this for something real. Thank you. (Only saying because i've gotten some hateful DMs bc of the first part).

[roswelldetails]

RNM 2x05 - I'll Stand By You

So just a little note from me, the person behind the season 2 detailing.  I am trying really really hard to keep emotion out of these posts...which is really really hard for me because I'm an inherently emotional person. I'm a glass case of emotion, ready to shatter at any given moment. (#dramatic)  But I want to be true to the intent of this blog and keep my feelings, biases, and, you know, shipping out of this blog.

It was really really hard to do with this episode. Because I straight up ugly cried for like, 45 of the 60 minutes. 😂

So I guess, the point is, I'm proud of myself and sticking to the details here. My regular blog is where I'm doing the emotional flip out thing! 😂

EPISODE SUMMARY:

ACCEPTING REALITY — The discovery of some complications with Max’s (Nathan Dean) pod forces Liz (Jeanine Mason), Michael (Michael Vlamis) and Isobel (Lily Cowles) to confront the possibility that they may not be able to save him. Elsewhere, Maria (Heather Hemmens) and Alex (Tyler Blackburn) make amends. Kimberly McCullough directed the episode written by Alanna Bennett & Jason Gavin (#205). Original airdate 4/13/2020. 

DETAILS:

Max/Isobel/Michael reunite at age 11 according to what Michael tells Alex in 1x10.  So that would make the opening of this episode set in 2002ish.

Michael tells Max and Isobel, "I remember you. I don't know you."

"After nobody adopted me for a year they just stuck me with the name of that trucker who found us."

"I didn't ask you for anything."

This is like the thesis statement of Michael's whole history with Max in the flashbacks.

"Don't pay more than you collect, kid. Passing credit back and forth is a good way to get stuck with somebody forever."

Rosa's art. 

What I can see says: "...what they all told me, but I didn't listen" and "Stand the shelter".

Rosa on her dreams

"I have not had any freaky dreams in weeks. Okay, Max is probably off haunting Isobel now that they're strong enough for their psychic twincest weirdness."

"How long has that been happening?"

"Um, I don't know. It's an old boom box."

"Rosa, have electrical appliances been malfunctioning around you?"

"I really thought it was just a side effect of the handprint."

"If being in the pod introduced a new protein into your system it could have altered your DNA too. You could be developing abilities."

"Liz, look. The handprint is changing.  It's smaller."

"It's fading."

"Tell me this is a good thing."

"I don't think so."

Michael and Liz theorizing on why the pod shorted out:

"The pod's got a charge. It's like a battery powering the preservation process. This one's gone dead."

"Did the generator blow the electromagnetic threshold?"

"I think a surge came from the pod itself. But that pod has lasted almost a century. It shouldn't glitch out."

"Okay, well, then, this one did."

"All right, stop. It doesn't matter why the pod is broken. It just is. So how long does Max have?"

"My theory is that being tethered to Rosa through the mark is what kept Max from going brain-dead, and in turn the stasis process is what kept the mark from fading. So he could be gone by tonight."

"Okay, well, we have three more pods. So let's just put him into another pod."

"No. He's just gonna do it again. I haven't told you everything. I didn't want to scare you. I didn't want to be the one that took the hope away."

"Talk now, Rosa. Right now."

"I was seeing Max in my nightmares months before I told you about it, and he was begging me to stop you. He said that he was in a lot of pain in there."

"That's Noah's pod. Noah told us it was broken. It wasn't keeping him in stasis. He could feel time passing. None of us thought of that."

"We've been doing everything we can to make Max stronger. He pulled his own plug."

Note...as far as we know Isobel was the only one who knew about Noah's pod being broken.  In 1x12 it was before Liz arrived at the house that he told them about the broken pod, so only Max and Isobel heard that part of the story.

Alex on his training. "NSA intelligence cryptology training".

Monitor screen in the secret lab:

Noah's heart is still too weak to transplant. Kyle says it needs at least eight more weeks

"I wrote a paper for a bioethics class on patients in vegetative states who feel pain. Sometimes it's all they feel."

As a non sciencey person, I was wondering if bioethics class was a real thing. Tonight I saw an interview on the news with a UC Berkeley bioethics professor on COVID. So yes, it's a thing.

Alex on Michael that summer post-Rosa's death:

Starting fights with jocks

Broke into the drugstore

Not going to UNM

Hasn't hung out with Max all summer

Got busted for stealing hubcaps (Kyle's hubcaps, we learn later) 

Became a walking bar fight

Was in jail when Alex left to enlist

Michael on Max in 2008:

"It's more than that. And it's less than that. We were friends when we were kids, but now Max reminds me of a bunch of stuff that I'd rather forget. The only thing that we have in common anymore is Isobel."

Max's yearbook had a pencil stuck in the page with Liz and Max's photo in it. (The one we first saw in 1x03).

"Biology Club. Max hated science. He was in that club for four years just to watch your sister chew on the end of her pencil."

Max's mindscape:

First just desert, clouds, and then lightning strikes (destructive energy?)

Liz's antennae -- they disappear from Isobel's hands

Rosa describes it as broken

Crashdown special is Max's favorite "Little Green Man milkshake".

The Crashdown counter is kind of merged with biology lab equipment. 

The juke box is there

The Crashdown booths

Jeep

Neon Crashdown sign

One of those claw drop game machines (from the Crashdown) but it's filled with baked good displays.

The yearbook

Later, everything else is gone except the one Crashdown booth, the Jeep, and the neon sign.

The distorted music they follow to find Max is the Cactus Groove song in the music list...just, messed around with. See @angsty-nerd's post here:

"I'm the hothead. You are the hero. It's always been that way."

"You stole the hubcaps off Kyle Valenti's graduation present. Both his parents are cops. Do you want to end up in jail tonight?". 

👀 Tonight, specifically. 

Michael seemed excited about the job at Foster's Ranch until he found out that Max set it up for him.  Max found out about it from his dad (only like the 2nd or 3rd mention of his dad in the series so far).

"When I got back in town I asked Max why you and your brilliant mind hadn't changed the world yet. He said you didn't care about the world enough to bother changing it. He believed you could."

Max and Isobel in the mindscape:

"You're okay. I could feel something was wrong with you.  Everything felt…"

"Cold. I know."

"You can't be here. It's finally ending.  I can feel it. But I don't know what happens if you're in my head when I die."

"So it's true? You want this?"

"I could feel my connection to the outside world getting stronger, so I snapped. I couldn't take it anymore. I released a surge. You have to let me go, Iz."

"I can't take it anymore."

"Okay."

"I am so sorry."

"I just want to memorize this."

"Okay. Okay.  I need you to tell Liz something."

"You can tell her yourself.  She and Kyle are prepping for surgery.  They're going to use the faulty heart. She just wants to talk to you before you die."

"No. No."

"You won't be suffering. They're just gonna bring you back and then let you go."

"No you have to stop this.  You cannot bring me back under any circumstances."

"Max? What is really going on?"

"I am dangerous.  Whatever Liz is bringing back is not me. It's just some broken shell."

Maria on her mom's computer 

"Her nurse said that for the two weeks before she went missing, when she wasn't trying to escape, she was talking to someone online."

The 21st birthday flashback

Isobel gets Michael to help move Max after getting drunk on tequila.  He passed out in front of the tattoo parlor. It's the same tattoo parlor Michael goes to at the end of the episode.

Max's weird drunken statement.

"The thing is, there has to be there. Okay? There's always three. Until the very end.  I'll show you...What it means is you should be here…'cause it's all broken without three. So we'll figure it out.  You'll find your way back."

👀 Until the very end. Interesting.

On Max becoming a deputy:

"You know he did the whole police academy thing because of you, right? He thinks you're gonna get into the kind of trouble you can't get out of if you don't know someone."

Back in the mindscape:

"I figured it all out. She, there's an energy to suffering, there's an energy to death, and when I heal people, I absorb that energy. So when I resurrected Rosa, I took in ten years of emptiness. So if you resurrect me, you will be bringing back an infection. Don't want… I don't want to come back as a monster. I don't want to hurt anyone that I care about."

"That's what this is about? We've been hurting, Max. We don't work without you."

"You will! You will. You are stronger now than when I died. All of you are. You, Michael, Liz, you will survive this. The three of you. No, you need to stop them, Iz. Now."

"Okay. I love you."

"You too." Isobel disappears.

Max is using pretty similar wording to his drunken rambles in the 21st birthday flashback

We don't see that Max is chained down until this next exchange with Rosa. Isobel didn't see that detail as far as we know.  Didn't hear the chains clanking when they stood and hugged. Only after Isobel left.

"I'm sorry this is happening."

"Isobel is lying. She is buying time.  You know she'll never let me go. But you can feel the darkness too, right? That's why you don't like being in my head. Because you know it's real."

"I didn't want that to be true, but yes."

"I know my sister and I know your sister and they'll never give up. So you have to be the one to stop this surgery, okay? Or I will destroy everything that we love. You have to stop them to save them. Now go.  Please, Rosa. Go."

Isobel explaining to Liz

"When he saved Rosa he absorbed all of that dark energy. He's gonna have to expel it."

"And he's afraid he's gonna kill someone when he does."

"Yeah. So we just need someone stronger than Max to take that hit...if he thinks he needs to protect us he obviously doesn't know how capable we are. Bring him back, Liz. I'll handle the rest."

"I get it now. It's gotta be the three of us."

"He would never pull his plug to end his own suffering. Unless he thought he was saving us from something. And I'm a little sick of his heroic martyr crap."

In case you missed it, Michael did not know that.  At the beginning of the hospital sequence Isobel is telling Liz what she learned in Max's mindscape and says that she hasn't been able to get ahold of Michael.  Michael figured it out on his own. He finally "got it".

The pacemaker:

Isobel with Max at the end… everything is gone except the Jeep. And Bright Eyes playing (the song he and Liz danced to on their first date back in 2008). And then his eyes close and Bright Eyes fades away.

“First thing I remember is the three of us. We woke up terrified and lost. But together. And then all of the sudden I was alone. I got real good at being alone. I had given up on people entirely. And then you found me again. Hell of hero move. You showed up just in time. When you are a kid who nobody loves, kindness is a currency. Friendship doesn’t means jack. Family just lies, and hurts, and leaves. I’ve only ever known love to be temporary. So yeah, I push people away. Every time someone threatens to care about me I test their love until they have to leave. Connection is conditional. Everybody eventually gives up on the guy who refuses to be rescued. But you were the only one who I couldn’t run off. You never believed me when I tried to be something I wasn’t. So this thing in your chest, it might give your heart a pretty solid kick every once in a while. Consider it payback. It’s my hero move, Max. If you wake up, you consider us even, okay? If you wake up, we can be a family.”

Good visual parallels during Michael's speech. Alex and Kyle drinking together during the "and then you found me again". Maria walking up on "the guy who refuses to be rescued"

Max is in the coma for three weeks.  Wakes up at the secret lab (instead of his house, which is where he was previously.  I'm guessing it was a planned wake up because he's no longer plugged into all of the IVs and whatnot.

"I begged you to understand."

"Max, it's gonna be fine."

"No… I told you to let me go. I can feel it inside me."

"It's...it's symmetry, okay? It's just energy for energy.  We can deal with that. Fight it, Max. This isn't you."

"I don't want to hurt you. I need to get out. I need to get away from you, from everyone."

"I can't let you do that."

Max shoves Isobel and runs. When he shoves her there's a slight ringing like the sound they use when the aliens use their powers.  Isobel follows and stops him with her powers.

"I made a promise that if you came back and you weren't Max, and you were actually going to hurt people that I would kill you. I figure, hey, you got to play God. Make life and death decisions all on your own. Well it's my turn now."

MUSIC:

1. Letters To Cleo "Here and Now"

2. Lady Antebellum "Love Don't Live Here"

3. Cactus Groove "Fallin"

4. James Talley "Big Thunder"

8. Ross Copperman "Stars Are On Your Side"

5. Lindsey Ray "Keep You Safe"

6. Tommee Profitt feat. Sam Tinnesz "With you Til The End"

7. Bright Eyes "First Day Of My Life"

The Cactus Groove song is the first song this season that I haven’t been able to find on Spotify… let me know if any of y’all had any luck with it!

[wallyrenn]

I apologize in advance for this very long reply and the potential for lack of clarity. If you need me to clear anything up or further elaborate, feel free! And if none of this works for you, that's perfectly fine too! It's art, everyone has their own ways of doing things.

So in Neil Gaimain's Masterclass, the main piece of advice that I took and ran with (and allowed me to finish my first ever draft during last year's NaNoWriMo) was this: write down everything you know before starting anything else.

I couldn't even tell you how many stacks of paper are laying around my floor right now because of how I used this to start planning my rewrite for my main WIP. I wrote down anything I knew about the story: the conflict, what was going on in the world, character arcs, major and minor characters I wanted to see, what themes I might want to explore, what sources of inspiration did I want to implement for it, etc. It wasn't at all organized and I did it from pen to paper so that there was no real interruption of flow from brain to page.

Once that was done, I had an overall concept. Then I started a tiny bit of research. I looked up the themes I was interested in and sometimes found either more I wanted to add or ones that would better suit what I wanted to do. I have an entire Pinterest board of random tips, quotes, and prompts that I would look through to see what would stick (I'll link here just in case). These could be things I saved beforehand where I thought there was something to work with, or I would seek out more sources of inspiration through Pinterest (I'll link my WIPs board too cause I don't know how to explain this properly).

Now, I had plenty of things to fill a story, but a story needs structure. So I finally started organizing things. I set aside things pertaining to characters, plot, worldbuilding. If two things could be combined, perfect. If two things conflicted, there was an issue. This is really one of the places where your individual process comes in a bit, I think. I was able to derive main characters, a main plot, a solid list of themes I wanted to explore, and inspiration for how to make all of it happen.

I use the 3 Act Structure, so I focused entirely on that for my Main Plot and my Main Character's Arc. I marked down the major plot points for each under Inciting Event, First Plot Point, Midpoint, Climax, Resolution.

To put it all together in a story format, I referred to a post that I now conveniently can't find. If anyone knows the original poster, please let me know cause I wanna give them major credit. But it went something a bit like this:

If you have a target word count (I usually start off with the minimum required by my genre, but for this novel since there was so much to include, I aimed for 150k), then decide how many words you want per scene. Not a chapter, but a scene. Which, for the record, scenes can be a chapter on their own and it just made it easier for my brain to work. So, using my WIP's rough draft as my example, I wanted each scene to be about 1k. I knew they would be larger/smaller, but it was a good base number.

This meant that I would need to plan about 150 scenes. Which was a crazy number, but hey? Who doesn't go a bit crazy during Nano? (I did most of this prepping the week before I think)

Now, I divided these scenes up using a structure from K.M. Weiland's series on Structuring Your Novel. Like... I saved the pictures for the three acts they showed and wrote it all down. I'll include a pic of the First Act Timeline below to show what I mean if ya don't feel like clicking on the link.

So with this image above in mind, I divided my scenes up through this (along with the other two acts but I didn't want to post all three on here cause I feel like this post is super long already). 25% of 150 is 37.5, so since I like not doing extra work I knew I would want 37 scenes for the first act. And I would divide it up further along.

For each scene, I would write a single sentence for what I wanted to happen. Sometimes I would naturally write a bit more or figure out things I wanted to happen later on/earlier. If it was later on, I'd make a separate note of it and use it when I got to that section.

(Please keep in mind most of this is still on paper, I organized it all later in my writing software, but I know not everyone has that.)

Once everything was plotted out for each section of all three acts and I had at least a sentence of each scene I wanted done, I got to work writing. I didn't organize it into chapters until post-draft. My rewrite is a bit different, but that's mostly cause it's more structured.

So yeah that's how I outlined my WIP. I apologize if this was hard to follow, as it's a bit difficult to fully convey my process since I've never spoken so intensely about it before, but all that matters is that it helped you figure out something you'd want to do to outline. I've found that the actual writing will change things, or I'd refer to the notes on worldbuilding, characters, etc to help if I ended up stuck. Having those Pinterest boards to rely on helped a lot, so I highly recommend making your own for your WIPs or your writing process as well if you can.

Now just gonna reiterate: if this doesn't work, perfectly fine. I just would recommend looking at the helpingwritersbecomeauthors(dot)com site because that really helped with a lot of stuff, along with Pinterest. And if you need me to elaborate on or clarify anything (or if I even forgot to explain something I mentioned cause I was typing fast) please let me know!

tell me about how y’all outline

because I am just Staring at Words, friends

just….Staring

[emilyshokesart]

Yes, I really expect people to credit the artists. And yes, I expect artists to credit the original artists when making fanart. Yes, I agree that shipping real people is invasive and needs to stop and that includes fanart of real people (this excludes the characters they play).

It's a big deal when someone famous posts your art, removing your credits and then, when asked to credit the art, says "it's too hard to find the original artist"- like listen here you dumb clown goblin, if some rando can make a whole show about finding the original image using a reverse google image search you can take 2 minutes to do the same damn thing. Or, idk, just not remove the credit in the first place????

Artists live and die by exposure. Having a celebrity- especially one who (was) generally well liked by the public- show your work could LITERALLY be the difference in weither or not that person eats or that person gets to continue to pursue art as a living or weither or not that person can pay bills or has to work a second job. You Dont Know!

And even if it WAS that hard to "find the original artist", what EXACTY would it hurt to credit them? Seriously. Please tell me.

AND ANOTHER THING!! Elong Musk sure as hell wants credit for his shit! Like, they STILL have not released ANY plans or schematics for ANY Tesla vehicle (to my knowledge, correct me if I'm wrong), which means in order to do any work to a Tesla you have to go to a Telsa dealership. Why? Because he either a) wants the money, b) does want anyone else copying, changing or otherwise taking credit for "his" ideas or c) both.

So once again, please PLEASE tell me: why couldn't this artist get the credit for her hard work?

elon musk posted someone’s art without crediting them and got yelled at and now he’s doing the taking a break from twitter thing where he sets his avatar to just black and im losing my fucking mind