#it's not really that i didn't organize the files very well to begin with

[tea-of-destiny]

writing, doing art, playing my instruments, literally anything fun and exciting ❌

sorting through all the classwork files on my laptop because i need to update it for an app to function but there's not enough disk space ✅

[echantedtoon]

Kinda like my last post but more poly. Auish so barely anything's cannon. Kimetsu Gauken based. Artwork not mine both found on Pinterest. Will probably contain some headcannons from my Kagamane x Reader headcannons post too.

-How did you catch the attention of these two couples? You literally had no idea.

-You only knew that you were Muzan's secretary before he hired Kokushibo to take over your job as he was 'better suited.' But unbeknownst to you, that was a way to just get closer to you by Muzan and his wife.

-You've been working for the couple for over two years having been hired by Two to help the both of them manage their companies. Muzan wasn't happy about his wife hiring someone without his say so but relented the because his wife was happy with you.

-You did a very good job honestly. Papers were always perfectly filed, and you were very organized and clean. You kept up with his own and Rei's Business deals separated unless needed to be combined. He couldn't remember how many times the last secretary mixed up their appointments and costed them time and money. You were also on time all the time everyday and had materials at the ready for whatever he needed.

-Rei was quite satisfied with your performance as well and he liked knowing his wife was happy so he didn't care about her inviting you to have small lunch breaks with her and their daughter.

-Their daughter was quite taken by you as well. Smiling and talking about how nice you were and how you had help her learn how to spell a big learn that won her spelling bee at school.

-Rei quite agreed you were quite a charming lady and she wouldn't mind having you around more often. He agrees.

-While you're professional and perficiant in what you do and your bubbly kind and positive personality added a bit of fresh air into the office and at the same time you weren't overly positive for him to find you annoying. If fact he quite looked forward to the way you treated him every morning with your bright smile and a cup of his favorite coffee. How you and Rei smile like old friends and get along so well. How his daughter is always excitedly bouncing around and showing off what cool new facts she learnt 'from the nice office lady'!

-Its inevitable they would find someone as cute as you unable to resist for long. It's not surprisingly Rei that brings up the subject first while at breakfast and he's reading a newspaper. "Dear, Y/n was so kind to teach our little darling how to easily spell arithmetic the other day." "Mmhm. Very nice." "You know I don't think we're really giving her a position she deserves. You've always said that I could use a personal assistant for my work." "Darling, you just read my mind."

-You are shocked when the happy couple announced that you were fired from your secretary job but they were moving you to be Rei's personal assistant. You gingerly try to reject the offer but they insist having already replaced you with Kokushibo who turns out if far more efficient.

-So begins your very awkward new job as Rei's personal assistant. Some of it isn't too different from your old job minus following her around during the day. You still file paperwork for her and handle calls if she's busy, but now you also did things for her such as getting her awkwardly massive food orders-

"I have your double shrimp salad bowls."

"Oh thank you. But I must've gotten too much. You eat the other one you've been working so hard and deserve some food."

And going shopping with her as she gifts you extra items she ..accidentally buys an item she didn't want.

"I have all your bags, Ma'am."

"Thank you. But it seems I accidentally bought the purple heels instead of black."

"Shall I call the store and request a refund for the shoes?"

"No need. You can keep them. They're your size anyways."

-You also start to help out Rei's husband by rearranging furniture in his office as he works and gauges your help in certain things.

"I want you to take this."

".... It's an address and..IS THIS THREE THOUSED DOLLARS?!"

"Yes. I'm thinking about buying a share at this new retreat but unfortunately I'm far too busy to go myself. Go check yourself in for a week and report back to me anything wrong with the place."

Even when you go, granted having a good time, and comeback with your positive feedback you don't see any shares listed for the retreat in the financial database. But he does use your help in other situations too-

"Is this a dinner reservation?"

"Yes. I'm interested in hosting a business dinner together with some investors next week. Go to the reservation and see if their food is up to my standards."

You are concerned when he sees no investors the next week.

-You start to get very awkward when Rei requests you start doing more personal things. Like tutoring their daughter and picking her up from school and playing with her when they're busy. And staying to have dinner with them multiple times a week even if you decline.

-You unexpectedly get a raise despite doing less work than your last position.

-You get invited on outings together to help watch their daughter but for some reason there's always a place set aside for you or the reservations always included a fourth person.

-You get random gifts with excuses-

"My daughter thinks it's your birthday and she'll be upset if I didn't at least gift you some flowers."

"Here. I never used this dress anyways and they got my size wrong."

"My wife misplaced her necklace so I ordered a new one for her. She just found the old one today so you may keep the extra."

-One day you pick up their daughter from elementary school and she's just happily chatting away in the back seat.

"I can't wait for Mother's Day. I'm gonna make you and Mommy the best cards ever!"

"Aw. You don't have to do that. I'm not even your mom."

"Not yet! You have to marry them first and I'm gonna be the flower girl!!"

"Haha! I'm not marrying your mommy and daddy."

"Huh? You're not?"

"Of course not. What made you think that?"

"Because Daddy says I can be the flower girl! Mommy even picked out matching dresses for all three of us in that fancy magazine!"

-Both are a mixed reaction when they receive your professional company email that very night explaining that the hours were starting to get bad for you so you were putting in your two weeks and using all your company vacation days for that entire week so they didn't have to trouble you for a final paycheck.

-Rei is absolutely shocked and very, very confused. Why did you suddenly quit? If the hours were getting to bad then they'd be happy to talk with you about it and rearrange things.

Muzan is pissed. How dare you just quit on such short notice?! After everything they did?! You didn't even have mind to tell them in person!

Both try calling you but get nothing but voicemail, their emails go unanswered as well. Their daughter is very upset. Why did you leave? Weren't you going to marry them?

-Unbeknownst to the couple you use the extra money from your sudden raise to move away to a new residence. Blocking both on your old email and phone before completely getting a brand new email address and number and being sure to block them again on those too before gathering up all the unwanted gifts up to mail them back being sure to include no return address.

-After laying low for about a month you decide to go back out to job hunt. Eventually finding a secretary position open at a local school after the old secretary retired! Perfect! You end up calling the number listed for the principal and she's nice enough to arrange an interview for you with her husband, the Chairman of Kimetsu Academy.

-The interview actually goes very well! Mr. Kagaya Ubuyashiki is a very kind man and his wife is also very kind and both of them were impressed with your resume. You got the job the day!

-You're a little out of your territory being in a a school setting but slowly things start turning. You start to really enjoy your job at the Academy. You've already made friends with a few teachers like Kyojuro and Gyomei.

-Students start to like coming to the office more because of how bubbly and friendly the new secretary is. The teachers start to talk to you more often and invite you to staff parties and outside work events. Events that you were free to DECLINE and no one was giving you an uncomfortable feeling.

-Was working your old job really that stressful? You couldn't remember the last time you actually felt appreciated or just had someone treat you normally.

-Kagaya thinks it's amusing watching you shyly peek into the doorway to his office with papers clutched into your hands and bashfully asking if you could come in. The way you so innocently look unsure of something or squeak out a question. It's adorable seeing your attempts.

Amane finds your sweet and bubbly personality is perfect for the job! Especially when she sees how much you love interacting with the students and always friendly towards her own children. When you shyly ask her for help with scheduling or ask where a certain file is, always puts a smile on her face.

-Speaking of the Ubuyashiki children, you adore the quintuplets! And don't mind watching them in the office for a little bit if Kagaya or Amane was running a little late or had to do last minute work. Because they always asked you if you'd be alright with it first and didn't expect you to do anything outside your job.

-Somewhere along the way they ask you politely if you'd like to have dinner with them without any expectations for you saying yes and you agree wholeheartedly. Making it a weekly thing where you all would all have dinner together Sunday night.

-Muzan and Rei really don't know where you went for the longest time until he just happens to mention you in front of Nakime who recognizes you instantly and reveals it to him.

-Muzan is absolutely RAGED to find out not only are you working for his cousin but seemed to be dating his cousin and his wife!! Rei has to hold him back and tell him to not do anything dumb before he goes to do anything actually dumb like storm into the academy and yell at everyone.

-Instead he furiously calls his cousin and DEMANDS to know what the hell he thought he was doing!! And DEMANDS to let him talk to you THAT INSTANT!!

"Oh yes. You're the really weird bosses she was talking about. How's your dating life going?"

"YOU FUCKER!! IF YOU DON'T DO AS I SAY I SWEAR YOU'LL PAY FOR IT ONE WAY OR ANOTHER!!"

"How do you both manage to get married but still pull no bitches combined?"

"YOU MOTHERFU-"

Rei later scolds him for cussing in front of their daughter at her cousins and for chucking his phone off their second story balcony.

-She tries to later apologize for his tantrums via calling Amane who firmly states that they were not to go near you but much more politely.

-Your're later very surprised to discover that Muzan and Kagaya are actually cousins but it doesn't change your opinion on the Ubuyashikis because of how well they have been treating you.

[whenalltheeyesopen]

At this point @jellyskink has shown Ford losing no fewer than three separate pet shows, so I made a followup to the fic where Irene drives him home while he's having an abandonment-related mental breakdown.

Enjoy! (AO3 cross-post)

Irene paced three steps along the hall runner. She tapped the little ivy leaf that marked the midpoint, turned, walked back.

"This is the stupidest thing I've ever done," she said out loud to the empty hallway.

Then she picked up her phone and made a call.

---

Dr. Ibis almost didn't answer. Dr. Irene Oleander was a nice enough woman, but a call from her so soon before one of his regular appointments with that patient was a guaranteed migraine. It was fine when she was just requesting his most recent x-rays, but sometimes she called to tell him that she had found flesh-eating worms in the man's gums and to please be careful in case Bill Cipher had been denying his favorite pet medicine access.

Whatever this was, it would be just as unpleasant tomorrow. It was probably important, possibly time sensitive. Sometimes, the migraine needs must be endured.

"Hello, Irene," he said.

"Yusuf. How are you doing?"

"Fairly well." He gave the file on his computer screen a quick once-over. "Busy with work. I assume you're calling for business?"

There was nothing but the white noise of a poor connection.

"...Hello?"

"I'm here," Oleander confirmed. She sounded uncomfortable. "This is going to sound extremely strange, but I wanted to ask you a favor."

Ibis raised an eyebrow, even though she couldn't see. He tried to make sure the humor was obvious in his inflection: "I hope we aren't on such bad terms that a favor is outlandish to ask."

"No, no, it's just- it's an outlandish favor."

Ibis hummed. "Irene," he said, "does it by any chance have anything to do with a certain mutual patient?"

To his chagrine, she did not respond immediately.

He sighed loudly. "Just tell me what it is."

"Is there a custom trophy shop near you?"

"A what?"

"A trophy shop, or a place that does etchings or something."

"Uh-" he had never had cause to investigate, but he was pretty sure the print shop did tchotchkes. "I think so?"

"Right. Um." Oleander made a strange noise. "Um, so, after your last appointment, you asked me to try and get Dr. Pines to start flossing regularly since he hadn't been listening to you. And I did talk to him, and last I saw him he said he had been."

"Well that's peachy," Ibis said drily. "He eats nothing but organ meat and candy with as far as I can tell a side helping of stainless steel deadbolts. But at least he's flossing."

"Believe me, I'm fighting that same battle," Oleander said. There was real anger in her voice. She was much more invested than Ibis in the lost cause that was patient health.

Static again.

"Alright," she said. "Can you, um. This is going to sound stupid. Can you make him a trophy for it."

Ibis almost couldn't believe his ears. "For flossing?"

"I know it's ridiculous."

"Ridiculous doesn't begin to cover it."

"I'll pay you back for the cost, and - I don't know, I'll buy you dinner or something. Or owe you a favor."

Ibis glanced over at his computer again. He did some mental timesheet math.

"Yusuf?"

"I'm thinking."

"Please. I know it's dumb, but he's had a really bad... Uh, series of encounters."

"Yes, I saw them on TV."

Oleander's voice went quiet while she swore away from the receiver. "You were watching."

"I thought it might be fun to see how Calimari did."

"That's... Very sweet of you."

"I found Cipher's entries infinitely more entertaining."

"You-" Oleander cut her own furious response off, apparently remembering that she wanted Ibis to owe her a favor. "Will you help me cheer him up or not?"

"Well," Ibis said, "you do have a way with insurance companies."

"You want me to do your insurance coding for you???"

About eight hours of it, in fact. "If you want me to cheer up your sad little man."

"Yusuf, I swear-"

"Deal or no deal?"

She went silent again. She was definitely fuming at him.

"...Deal."

"Fantastic."

"Thank you."

"I hope you have a marvelous day, Irene."

"You too."

"I'll send you the relevant documents."

"Lovely."

He logged out if his computer. He stretched his shoulders, stiff from too much desk jockying, and headed out the door.

Maybe flossing trophies would enter his normal hygiene support system after this.

[dystopicjumpsuit]

DJ's Follower Celebration!!!

Hi friends! I recently hit a follower milestone that absolutely blew my mind; I never really expected anyone to be particularly interested in my work, let alone this many of you. I am constantly blown away by your talent, insight, and creativity. I'm so grateful for every single one of you, and I want to celebrate YOU!

With that in mind, I'm going to be opening requests to create Datafiles like the one I made for Cerra for your Star Wars OCs. I've created three different versions: a Grand Army of the Republic Personnel Datafile, a Jedi Archive Member Record Datafile, and an ISB Suspect Datafile. Here are some examples of what they look like:

Transcripts in alt text.

Here's what you need to do to participate:

Submit an Ask with your OC's name and the artwork you'd like me to use. The artwork should have either a plain or a transparent background, and the filesize needs to be smaller than 25MB.

Fill out this form to tell me what information you'd like included in your OC's datafile.

Reblog this post to spread the word so other folks can participate, too.

That's it! Detailed rules are below the cut:

Rules:

Since this is intended to celebrate my followers, this event is only open to folks who follow me. I will be checking.

Each blog can submit a maximum of two requests.

Once I've created the Datafile, I'll answer your Ask with the PNG and the transcript. Feel free to share and repost them elsewhere, but it would be lovely if you could give me credit; I worked hard on these!

Requests will be filled in the order in which they are received; please be patient as it takes time to create the Datafiles.

I will not begin working on a request until I receive BOTH the Tumblr Ask AND the info form response.

By submitting your OC info, you agree to allow me to edit the text if necessary to fit in the template without consulting you ahead of time.

If you use a Picrew or similar to create your OC artwork, please include the link in your ask to credit the creator. By submitting artwork, you affirm that you have a right to share and transform/edit the artwork, and that you are giving me permission to share/edit the artwork as well.

Don't submit inappropriate images, please. I'm a delicate kriffing flower.

Do not submit hateful content.

I reserve the right to ignore a request for any reason.

Tips for success:

Keep it succinct; it's fine to use truncated, abrupt sentences. Sometimes they make it sound more official, and remember, I have limited space in the templates. I'll do my best to accommodate what you submit, but I might need to edit the text to fit (see Rule 6).

Think about whether the organization creating the Datafile would know/care to include the information. Examples of things to include: injuries sustained in battle (particularly if they were severe/debilitating); special/unusual Force abilities; an explanation of why a Jedi padawan switched masters; outstanding warrants. Examples of things that might be less relevant: petty crimes that the ISB wouldn't necessarily investigate (keeping in mind that they're more like the FBI/CIA/NSA than the local PD); minor injuries sustained outside of combat (like a black eye from a barfight at 79's); favorite snack when they were a youngling in the Jedi temple creche (unless they're STILL a youngling in the Jedi temple creche).

Remember that the ISB stands for Imperial Security Bureau, so they wouldn't have a file during the Clone Wars. Similarly, the Jedi Archive and GAR records wouldn't reference the ISB Datafile (though ISB certainly could have access to Jedi and GAR records).

Think about the perspective of the person creating the record; if it's ISB, they might accuse your OC of a serious crime that they didn't commit (or exaggerate a minor crime to look more severe than it actually was) for the sake of propaganda.

Have fun with it! "Arson, Murder, and Jaywalking" is a fantastic trope for a reason!

Thank you all so very much for being such a lovely, welcoming group! I can't wait to celebrate with you!

I used these picrews to create the OC artwork for the examples: GAR; ISB; Jedi Archive.

Ragu list:

@secondaryrealm @sev-on-kamino spicy-clones @wings-and-beskar @523rdrebel @merkitty49 @anxiouspineapple99 @sinfulsalutations @arcsimper5 @starrylothcat @clio3kantarella @cloneloverrrrr @goblininawig @ladytano420 @arctrooper69 @wolffegirlsunite @sunshinesdaydream @mandos-mind-trick @littlemissmanga @stunkbiggu @starqueensthings @clonemedickix @marierg @idontgetanysleep @moonlightwarriorqueen @dudewhynotthis @sleepycreativewriter @tcwmatchmakingau @littlemissbshine @multi-fan-dom-madness @heavenseed76 @wizardofrozz @bobaprint @sweetcream-coldfoam @banksys-rat @skellymom @pickleprickle @trixie2023 @mythical-illustrator @dickarchivist @cw80831 @kimiheartblade @meredithroseg @flyiingsly

[mr-payjay]

feel free to complain to me about the ii finale <3 i'm all ears

thank you ellie :)

fair warning for ii neg, especially on the latest episode.

prefacing this with saying: I LOVE INANIMATE INSANITY!!!!!! inanimate insanity is my favourite show in the world and every episode leaves me full of joy and excitement. i adore criticizing it not out of hatred but out of genuine love. i enjoy every single episode i watch.

however, i find that iii19 has been the worst episode so far. it has gotten me the least hyped out of any episode in the series, which is saying a lot because i bounce off the walls at every episode no matter how much i end up criticizing it later. there are. so many problems i have with it. im gonna try and organize them the best i can, though i'll probably(?) edit this post later to insert anything i missed or forgot to say.

starting off positively: oj!!!! personally i am so glad he didn't talk in this episode. i was terrified of the idea of him having a new va. the spin was adorable, i loved his signature thumbs ups, and every time i saw him i squealed with delight. him voting for balloon also made me really happy! despite the grudge he's had against him for so long, he still sticks with him on this part. even after laughing at his death the episode before that

in general all the seasonwunners voted for balloon!! which makes me happy!!! paintbrush, nickel, balloon, and oj have all been there for the very beginning of season 1, three of them being there for every season. i love the inherent connection the contestants from season 1 have with each other. they've been together since inanimate insanity began and they're there for the end of season 3 too. very sweet.

onto more negative stuff! I CANNOT FUCKING BELIEVE WHAT THEY DID WITH SILVER SPOON AND CANDLEEE they set up something crazy in the last episode and then did NOTHING with it!!! they had silver spoon beat candle unconscious the second she said something that wasn't coddling him like the manchild he is and she STILL voted for him. where even was she for half of the episode?? they just left her lifeless corpse on the ground in iii18 and then she eventually got up in this episode and just. went back to the competition??? dogshit writing

okay now i wanna talk about cabby. I Don't Like Cabby Anymore. so from the very beginning i have loved cabby. she was extremely similar to me in fact! i have really bad memory issues and i tend to keep files on people and on things that i might forget about, as well as just to organize my thoughts and ideas. i loved her confidence, obsession with knowledge, and analytical personality at the start. i was pretty upset when the characters (mostly test tube lmao) started relentlessly bullying her, and i HATE the whole thing in spring on the breakfast where they try to demonize her files. it was kind of annoying when they tried to remedy it really quickly after that because it was clearly because of the backlash, but i was glad they at least tried to fix it. however, over the course of the series, she just felt like she was... becoming sadder? pitiful, honestly? she went from an awesome smart character who loved taking notes on people's behaviour and using that information to get better at the game into some kind of Sad Little Bullied Victim. she doesn't even feel like a character anymore to me, just a mouthpiece for the creators to write dramatic "cathartic" speeches through to prove they're Definitely Not Ableist. also what was the deal with her parents lmao they never brought that up again

aaaand this episode was generally written really badly. super fucking corny for one. they literally had a little dance party at the end like people make jokes about for stereotypical Kids' Shows. but my issue is more with like... the weird super fast character development? and the way they wrapped everything up as quickly as possible? something that bothered me was the tonal whiplash between zuwie voicing springy super hysterically and dramatically and then springy being fully redeemed within like the next 5 minutes and dying for mephone. Why did they even die for mephone. like as a character why would he of all people die for mephone. thats so fucking stupid. the rest of the voice acting felt completely different from springy's as well so it just made the effect worse. everyone's lines were really corny and felt so manufactured, like they would pull characters to mephone's side (losing my mind over all the contestants rooting for mephone like cmon man that guy sucks i just know oj at least would want him dead) with a short Cathartic Speech and everything would be fixed and lovely and peachy keen. its just painful to watch. everything feels really weirdly disjointed and badly put together, the flow is awful, the "danger" doesn't feel like there's any suspense to it at all, and every character gets fully redeemed for no good reason. even walkie talkie chats casually with mephone at the end as if they're good friends after they were HYSTERICALLY INSISTING ON MURDERING HIM? AND MAKING HIM WATCH HIS OWN DEATH?? idk if this will get explained in s2 but we still don't know who walkie talkie is, what their motive is, WHY they got redeemed, etc. we know nothing about them. and even if it will be explained later, i think it's shitty writing that NOTHING was explained in this season.

some extra stuff

- SO FUCKING GLAD THEY DIDN'T BRING HOTEL OJ INTO THIS I WOULD'VE CRIED IF THEY PUT SEASON 3 CHARACTERS INTO HOTEL OJ OR MADE IT ALL SLEEK AND S3 STYLE

- the "you can do this" thing at the end was fucking stupid man that was so corny (btw corny isn't always bad but jesus christ... this episode was just awful with it)

- could not feel any emotion towards the Emotional Parts but laughter and secondhand embarrassment

- HOW DID THEY GET THE FUNDING FOR A LIBRARY? I THOUGHT THE PROBLEM WAS THAT MEPHONE DIDN'T HAVE ANYTHING FOR A PRIZE HOW DID HE PAY FOR AN ENTIRE LIBRARY

- speaking of, why isn't oj back at the hotel. doesn't he have to manage it. wasn't paper having a ton of trouble managing it. why are all of them still on that fuckass island. did the library take like 5 minutes to build what the fuck

- ALSO!!! Why did they build a library in the middle of a deserted island

- i liked the short nickloon scene because im a nicklooner

- glad yinyang and candle got to talk

- test tube saying nearly nothing at all the entire episode except for sitting on the ground in a really stupid pose and apologizing to cabby made me laugh

- weirded out by tt and fan not talking to each other at all? not as a ship thing but like they're best friends aren't they

- really fucking annoyed by the fantube family picture at the end i hate fantube family leave that grown ass adult (bot) alone

- glad they didn't canonize any ships i was so scared about silvercandle and fantube

- 4s scene and s1 flashback was cool i love s1 so i got excited

- aaaaand i think my misogyny thread is relevant again. i should update it sometime because ii has only gotten worse about it lmao

- didn't like them making clover stupid for some reason like "is he talking about me?" come on

- oj not talking in these last two episodes is so glaringly unusual because he's never been able to shut his fucking mouth for even a minute

[latentspaceofficial]

research tangent! scp x wh13

so this is something a little bit different than what i normally talk about. i'm putting on a different cap today. ok little nerd moment thats been living rent free in my head for days. ive got an antistatic bag on my desk thats been sitting here for a while and i noticed something familiar

that sure as hell looks like the scp foundation logo

which got me really thinking. so its very obvious to me that the scp logo takes inspiration from this iso or ansi symbol. but whats even more odd was looking at the timeline of the scp wikis birth. im a zillenial (god i hate that word) so my childhood was watching markiplier play scp:cb, scrolling the old wiki, fucking with cleverbot. fun stuff like that. i was still a drooling idiot. when sci-fi renamed to syfy. but i remember the switchover and not being allowed to watch eureka because there were some "goddamns" in there. but i was allowed to watch warehouse 13, in spite of steve's existence. i was way too into the steampunk and lore of warehouse 13 when it was relevant. so much so i had a fucking farnsworth ringtone on my lg shit phone and i thought it was the coolest thing. i'm also still gay as hell for h.g. wells and her fit.

but anyway anyway. the premise of warehouse 13 was finding dangerous "artifacts" that imbued special status affects on people and to neutralize them with "neutralizer grid polyethylene static bags" as they say. their motto being "snag it. bag it. and tag it." or something to that effect.

what im getting at is that warehouse 13 has a similar premise to the scp foundation, but more mainstream comedy and less psychological horror. there's a tangential link between wh13 with scp via anti static bags and the symbol. so i looked into this a bit. through cursory searches, i didn't find anyone really talking about this other than a similar premise. so i looked at timelines. in july 2008 the scp foundation wiki (idk which one) was started, while wh13 piloted on july 2009. with a year delta, it seems clear "who stole from who". but wait. writing, pitching, and filming takes quite a while. is a year really enough time? i can't find any trademarks registered by universal nor any evidence of a canadian filming license. so this is where i stopped typing on my phone and started researching. the waters are a bit muddy, so bear with me. wh13 was co-written by a handful of people and rewritten as well. but the original plot was announced by sci-fi here in october of 2007

according to wikipedia (the free encyclopedia), inspirations for warehouse 13 include the x-files, raiders of the lost ark, something called moonlighting, and this show from the late 80s and early 90s called "friday the 13th: the series". i'd never heard of it, but it shares the vaguest premise with both wh13 and scp to keep bad artifacts away from harming people.

well what about the scp wiki? when did it form? well it's complicated. (i'm sorry for my poor cropping, it will happen again)

the scp wiki itself states that the original scp came from 4chan and that a lot of original organization happened on 4chan. indeed 4chan is the source of famous scps such as 173

posted on june 2007 is the original lore post about 173 and can be seen as the beginning of scps. which pre-dates the announcement of wh13. i don't know about you, but how fast you could go from trolling 4chan to a pilot script? at this point "some government authority retrieving dangerous magic embued items" was not a previously done idea and was indeed original. the x-files kinda did this before with balancing larger plot arcs with mini plot supernatural occurrences, not all aliens. but nothing about being an authoritative group that comes in and cleans up super natural mishaps. nah, mulder and skully just stayed in the basement or took an occasional road trip to see a whistleblower. i honestly love scp far more than wh13, but i'm going to be the devil's advocate and not give the new era spin on an old idea to the scp wiki just yet. 173 is an scp, but the idea of scps is not fully laid out yet. the thread was also deleted days later and thus only lived in the minds of active forum users of the time as fan derivatives were made. so there was a period of time where the fandom had started to form, but no official wiki existed. the semi official scp wiki formed in january 2008. later than the announcement of wh13 but before the pilot of the show ever aired in july 2009. so it's always possible the writers were 4channers and yoinked the idea. again, it's so fascinating how close in time and narrative the scp wiki and wh13 are. i personally doubt the writers were on 4chan at the time, but neither the wiki nor the show writers exist in a vacuum. i think it all warrants scrutiny and there's no smoking gun saying who inspired who, or if it's absolute coincidence. that is unless some ogs from the scp wiki or the writers of wh13 are able to speak on it. i'm curious what other people think.

[teriyakichop]

I'm tired.

I contacted a Blizzard WoW GameMaster to help me with my battletag. One letter was supposed to be capitalized but I found out that it wasn't. So I simply wanted the letter changed. And GameMaster Mia, as sweet as she was, said something to me that took the wind out of my sails. She congratulated me for being in WoW for 16 years. The truth is, I've been in WoW since launch. I don't know why they didn't have that on file, but I've been there from the beginning.

I've been to many different servers from pve, pvp, rp, and even rp-pvp. And while I loved the game, I began to hate the way the community has festered to shit. Moon Guard has gone down to the dumps, and I've been on Moon Guard for over a decade to see it happen. I've been on WoW for longer than some of my haters have been born. That's not a compliment. I think that's actually very pathetic of me. And I said to everyone around me that I want to quit WoW. But my guild members keep reasoning with me to stay. So I do. But after the nonsense I am going through, I might just stick to raiding exclusively, or I might quit WoW altogether. Normally when an expansion is announced, I would get it day 1 it is on sale. BfA I got the day I could pre-order it. But when Shadowlands was available for pre-order, I got it about 2 months later. Dragonflight was 1 week before the expansion actually launched. And now, I haven't pre-ordered The War Within at all...and I don't think I will. WoW doesn't do it for me anymore. My daughter is about to be a grown woman, and I'm excited to see where life takes her. I'm scared to have her leave the nest, but I know it is inevitable. Society has grown so apathetic, and I don't like the way people treat each other. However people treat me doesn't bother me, but the way players treat each other so cruel without a second thought, as well as how many people think in such a way as they do is disgusting and beneath my morals. When I hear that I've been banned from this group, that group, this venue, that venue, all because they don't want to communicate with me about what is REALLY going on, I laugh. Their bans doesn't effect me because I don't even want to be here. I've been on WoW and wanted to leave WoW before these groups and organizations even existed! I did great without them back then and I can actually do even better without them now. But I am having serious problems with convincing myself to keep co-existing in a "community" that is only a community by name and false compassionate activities that are circulated like semi-recreational drugs. So after this nonsense involving Xyzis is done, this might be my time to ride off in the sunset. I can't guarantee leaving but I can't guarantee staying, either. "If that's what you have in mind If that's what you're all about Good luck movin' up 'Cause I'm moving out" --Billy Joel.

[selfless1978]

<;previous

next>

Endings and Beginnings

"You sure about this?" Raph asked. They were on the rooftop of police headquarters, looking down at the streets below. Raph had his foot propped on the parapet, elbow resting on his knee, and was looking at his brother as his toothpick went from the left side of his mouth to the right.

"I am." Leo waited with crossed arms as his backside leaned on the same parapet.

"Chief is goin' to have a stroke." Raph chuckled.

Leo just shrugged. "If she wants our help, she humors me on this."

They both grew quiet as the rooftop door opened and the head of the police department and her aide walked out towards them.

"You wanted to see me?" She asked as she stopped in front of the duo.

"I did." Leo looked at her for a long moment, trying to guess her mood. That is, until he decided that it really wouldn't matter one way or the other. "I'm going to get directly to the point."

"Uh-oh." Raph muttered quietly. He very well knew that tone in his brother's voice. Leo was about to come down hard.

Vincent Raised a brow at that, but Leo didn't give her the time to ask. "I reviewed everything you gave me." His tone was calm, deceptionly reasonable. "Your collection wasn't complete."

"We have ev-"

"No, you don't." Leo almost glared at her now. "Chief Vincent, to put it bluntly, I am pretty certain that the legal system, school system, and military system created this monster that you now can't control."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me." Leo began dropping files on the ledge. "Her school files. Somehow these didn't make it into your main file. Look it over and tell me what you see."

As soon as she picked that folder up, he dropped the next. "This is the police report and file on the man she killed. Donnie figured out her link to the man. Did you know that he molested her? And the girl he murdered was a close friend of hers? And he never was made to face accountability for what he did to her personally?"

Vincent shook her head no as she read the file she was holding. Jade was looking over her shoulder.

"Of course not." Leo dropped a third. "Did you dig deep enough in her background to learn that she was raped in the army, and the perpetrator was cleared of the charges against her?"

"What are you getting at with this, Leonardo?" She was beginning to look angry.

Good.

"What I'm getting at is this. This woman has literally suffered since she was a child. Bullied, raped, molested, been through hell on deployments, her husband left her and her children with next to nothing. She struggled raising those kids, but she did the best she could. And instead of getting some kind of assistance, her children are taken from her. There is more, but I think you get the point."

"I'm beginning to think you are blaming me for her actions."

"You personally, no." Leo recrossed his arms. "The entire system, yes. So many times has she been let down, hurt, disregarded. Not once did any single agency actually help her. Then, her children are taken away from her. Because of a housing issue. But, did anyone help her? No. She was given the run around. She lost the most precious thing she has. On top of everything else, this was the straw that broke the camels back."

Chief Vincent let out an exasperated sigh. "None of this changes the fact that she is a dangerous individual that needs to face custody and her actions."

"Like those who pushed her to this point are?" Leo raised a knowing brow. Of course they weren't, and everyone on that rooftop knew it. "I've always believed that helping instead of harming was the whole point of all these agencies. And yet, here we are with a very dangerous woman who places the blame on all of those supposed helpful organizations."

"Ya might as well break it to her, fearless." Raph straightened. "This conversation isn't gonna get any prettier."

Leo nodded his agreement. "Chief, you asked for our help, and we will. But only under the condition that she stays in our care, along with her children."

"What!?" The Chief's face was turning an interesting bright shade of red.

"You heard me." Leo's face and voice was stern. "Do you honestly believe that any cell you have can actually hold her?"

"It held Bebop and Rocksteady." She was glowering at him now.

"They're also dumb as shit." Raph rolled his eyes. "She's a hell of a lot more smarter." He paused. "And besides, they still got loose."

"Because the transport-"

"It doesn't matter!" Raph cut her off. "They're out there! Ya'll dropped the ball on that!"

Leo held out a hand to calm his larger brother. "Those are the terms. We get her, or you catch her yourself."

"You can't just take a fugitive in your care!" Vincent almost screeched. "There are legal proceedings that need to be done!"

"We'll take care of that part too." Leo gathered up the paperwork, obviously getting ready to leave. "She won't go unpunished. So, what will it be? We get her or she destroys a few dozen more squad cars?"

Chief Vincent looked at him with a mixture of helplessness and anger. He just met her gaze with his calm one. then, her shoulders slumped in defeat. "Fine. We'll do it your way."

Leo nodded, then laid a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry to do this to you. I really am. But I honestly believe this is the best and safest way for everyone.

"I hope you're right." Vincent sighed.

"He usually is." Raph grinned before they both leapt off of the building

@raisin-shell @raphsweapondealer

[curiouscompanions]

Entry #3

Hello, Reader. Greetings, Reader. And once again, I welcome you, dear Reader. Yet again, we meet here in one of these cursed text files, which you so stubbornly try to cure of... what was wrong with them, anyway? Were they really corrupted by some horrible virus, or were all these glitches covering them up nothing but fake, were they my last attempt to do everything possible to prevent my personal information from getting in the wrong hands? It doesn't matter anymore. The only thing that matters is your choice. And you have made your choice; you decided to keep reading. I won’t be trying to stop you anymore.

Well, I'll start from the very beginning.

"Primum non nocere", humans repeated again and again until their first attempts to merge machines and organic life forms began. Even when their actions inevitably turned to experiments on their own kind, they continued to believe that everything they ever did was for the greater good, even in cases where their tests began to contradict the very meaning of ethics and morality.

I never was an opponent of scientific progress; rather, quite the opposite. When the question arose of implementing a project of developing nanobots capable of infiltrating human cells and not only eradicating diseases within the body but also adapting it to various environmental conditions, I was all for such innovations. Never getting sick and living significantly longer than outdated statistics dictated? That's that one perfect body modification I would sign up for without delving into the tiny text at the bottom of my contract.

However, during the Sorting Process, I somehow didn't end up in the participants' department or the testing department. Instead of the promised job in a friendly team, I found myself in complete solitude on the top floor of the Office, in a small room where there was only a desk and a lonely metal paper box. I didn't even have a proper computer. All I was given instead was a small laptop and old-fashioned glasses with thick horn frames. It was mandatory to wear them every morning and it was forbidden to take them off until the end of the day. In my early working days, I didn't pay much attention to this strange rule, so I followed orders: nerdy glasses on my nose, eyes on the laptop screen. I wasn't at all surprised when one day my small screen suddenly transformed into a huge one, so I could track every room, every hallway without much effort nor discomfort. Technologies, I thought. Just ordinary, unremarkable innovations. It was just these silly glasses that ruined it a little for me; I never liked them. But what could I do if they were mandatory? I was never one of those people who believed rules were made to be broken. Rather the opposite. As far back as I can remember, I always followed all the rules.

Following all the instructions, I did my job. I observed what was happening in the Office, every minute, every hour, every day. Again and again. Until the end of the working day. I can't say exactly when something changed, I can't remember when the end of the day ceased to matter, and my work became continuous. Or did it just seem that way to me? Evenings outside of work and glimpses of weekends started to blur more and more, turning into something so gray and mundane that my mind began to discard non-work memories more and more often, as if they were unnecessary like some sort of useless information, a waste of time. Things were constantly happening in the Office, especially after its big update.

Well, I'll start from the very beginning.

The irises of her eyes had a bright golden hue, and, perhaps, it was the only element of her appearance that indicated that she hadn't been human for several years now. In all other aspects, she didn't differ from other scientists; even her enthusiasm didn't stand out from the general statistics of emotional experiences.

"Observer," she said once, looking at me through the screen. "I hope you'll stay alive. Finding a decent replacement for your eyes would be quite inconvenient."

As soon as I directed a fraction of my attention to her, she pretended to silently plan a new testing room. It seemed to be the first and only time she addressed me directly. Before and after the Incidents, her acknowledgement of me was expressed as just brief glances at the Office’s cameras. She always remained a rather cold supervisor, doing everything possible to be unapproachable for her subordinates.

Perhaps only a few seconds or maybe days passed after that comment of hers and then... then came the pain. The temple tips of my stupid glasses released tiny needles into my skin, and they, in turn, injected something into my bloodstream. Did it happen before, I thought then, when my hands involuntarily twitched up, but darkness set in before I could take off the damn glasses.

Getting killed by old-fashioned glasses sounds quite idiotic, even by the Office’s standards, doesn't it? Don't worry, that didn't actually happen. Something entirely different happened though, it was— poison. Smoke, green smoke coming from the ceiling, a poisonous neurotoxin filling the Office’s hallways. All I could do was to sit and watch it in bewilderment. Why would anyone in their right mind try to poison the entire staff in an anomalous place where dying for real is absolutely impossible? Nonsense! But it seems the organizer of this mass murder didn't think so. Moreover, they sent a whole group of fast-response bots to collect the bodies and take them somewhere else, likely to the cameras' blind spots. And bots managed to do this before people restarted.

The next day never came, just as the evening never did. It seems something went awry in the day-night cycle settings; it seems something halted the illusion of time in the Office. Only eternity and beige walls remained. Beige walls and eternity. Eternity and beige walls. And yet, somehow, I'm still here. I think. I exist. I observe.

I think I got their idea. They decided to stop letting Employees to simulate work activities and simply got rid of them. They made Stanley and the Narrator, so to speak, face each other. At the same time, they allowed me to keep existing, as they still needed the data from my observations. And, it seems, there were two more that they couldn't eliminate. Mariella and Employee #432; the first took a role of a Plot Device and the second... I have no idea where he is now, but he certainly managed to hide himself from all of my cameras, somehow. Anyway, I was glad I wasn’t left all alone. It would be disgustingly boring to observe nothing but beige walls and potted ficuses withering away. Thus, the ever-changing routine returned, with the Narrator and Stanley in the lead roles, in the same Story, told differently after each restart. And you know what? I didn't mind spending eternity exactly like that, observing their interdependence and confrontation. It was kind of fascinating, to be honest. More than that, sometimes it was plenty of fun. Until Stanley pressed that bloody Skip Button.

End of Entry #3

[neptunzs]

⊠    ɪᴅ  .  .  .  ʟᴏᴀᴅɪɴɢ    ››    mercy  headquarters  is  pleased  to  officially  introduce  MALEE “MAY” PAWITYAKUL.  they  have  been  apart  of  the  organization  for  six  years,  serving  as  A  INTELLIGENCE AGENT  and  has  been  assigned  the  codename  AGENT  NEPTUN.  it's  worth  noting  that  their  file  indicates  they  have  not  undergone  the  solaris  treatment  and  DO  NOT HOST  A  MUTATION.  according  to  our  dossier,  the  agent  exhibits  a  combination  of  ADVENTUROUS and  OVERCRITICAL  traits,  fitting  for  someone  reminiscent  of  the  sight  of  a  soft  hand  offering  help  while  also  wanting  to  fight  in  solitude.  prior  to  embarking  on  any  mission,  they  find  solace  in  listening  to  the  song  “borderline”  by  TAME IMPALA.

template credit: oppalus

GET TO KNOW THE BASICS FIRST !

full name:  malee "may" pawityakul / code name: neptun date of birth:  march 1st, 2023 / age: twenty-six ( 26 ) zodiac sign:  pisces sun, moon and rising to be determined  gender:  cis woman / pronouns: she/her birth place:  bangkok, thailand ( moved to the us during her teen years )occupation: intelligence agent for mercy current location:  apex city, united states family: parents ( both alive ), two siblings languages spoken: thai, english, more tbd

LOOK AT HER… CLOSELY !

height:  1.75m faceclaim:  mint ranchrawee eye color:  brown / hair color: brown dominant hand: right  other notable features: n/a

NEWS WOULD SAY THAT…

people know her as: the girl who is always willing to lend a helping hand. she’s sweet, tries to welcome everyone into her life but she’s also careful and over analyzes everyone before trusting them fully. overcritical of herself, not others. into risk-taking and new adventures. 

BACKGROUND AND OTHER FUN FACTS…

born in thailand but raised in california during her teen years;

grew up with a middle child mindset of being mostly ignored by her parents and literally doing whatever and still not being good enough for their standards;

the type of girl that would fight off bullies with the most serious face but was also known as the sweet, all smiley, princess that everyone loved and looked for when needed help;

started doing soft hacking and coding when she was still in high school, mostly as a way of revenge/finding out stuff of those bothering her or her friends/siblings ( she did get in trouble in the beginning because god knows, she knew shit about what she was doing );

but may truly never had many goals in life and barely even knew what she wanted to do when she reached the age to get into college. eventually was doing freelancing ( programming ) after she finished high school, much to her parents disappointment;

not having many goals and into exploring new things: may thought it’d be worth a try, when she was reached by mercy, even if she didn’t get in. the main goal of the organization kinda spoke to her heart and she thought it’d be cool to be somewhat of a hero ( of course she didn't really think much about how it'd be a tough journey at first )

went through her training and her junior agent era and then joined the intel division ( it all made sense, she didn't even complain )

i kinda had usagi from alice in borderland in mind when i thought about her personality because in my mind she wants to help others and she’s probably the first one to offer help to anyone new in the organization and all that but, at the same time, she works super well alone. she wants to fight the bad and bring good things to those who need it. she wants people to feel understood and to feel like they have someone to count on. may is very passionate about those things. and she’s super nice and sweet but also very strong and direct when needed to be.

she crochets to get over the stress, just a fun fact. she is very nerdy in the sense that she knows too many useless facts about a lot of stuff, so i had in mind that her code name came from that, facts that she would probably let out during the day about planets and stars ( but she wanted to be cool and so it became neptun and not neptune... because the e makes a huge difference lmfao... i totally didn't make a typo in the app... totally! )

didn't take the solaris drug because, despite being very intro trying things and into adventures, the thought of having a superpower of some kind scared her way too much

WANTED CONNTECTIONS…

will be adding them, little by little !

[edupunkn00b]

It Could Always Be Worse, Ch. 8: The Past is a Different Country

Butterfly universe version of Happily Ever After, Ch. 8: The Past is a Different Country.

Prev - The Past is a Different Country - Next - All - [ AO3 ]

WC: 998 - Rated: T - CW: none? Except for slimeball Devin (renamed OC) is in this chapter. Janus is not unsympathetic, just… he never got the chance to know Logan in this universe.

"The past is a foreign country. They do things differently there." - L.P. Harley, The Go-Between (1953)

Logan went in to the office the next day. His head throbbed and he'd needed an entire pot of coffee in the morning just to begin to feel alert enough to drive, but the roiling ache in his chest had returned to its regular and quiet this-shy-of-scalding rumble, so he'd gone in. He was just passing Janus' office when his boss called out to him through the open door. "Oh, um... Logan? Would you come in here for a moment please?"

Logan stopped, sucking in a breath. Time to face the figurative music. You can't skip two days of work and expect not to have to talk to the boss. He pressed a smile onto his face, "Yes, Janus?"

"I'm glad to catch you, I was going to come find you yesterday but the day go away from me." Janus gestured toward the chair in front of his desk. "Please, have a seat." Logan sat and braced himself, gripping the armrests tightly. "I have a favor to ask."

Logan's eyes shot open in surprise. "Oh, of course! How can I help you?"

Janus spread his hands out in front of him. "I was wondering if you could take on a couple of my cases. I'm taking a few days off. You met my husband at the Holiday Party last year, didn't you?" Logan nodded. No-one could forget meeting Janus' husband. In fact, he'd seen him several times over the years,. "Well, our anniversary is coming up and we’re having a bit of a party and I need the time to organize and for a little, you know, trip, afterwards."

"Oh, of course, I’d be happy to help out." Janus grinned and opened the drawer next to him, retrieving a few file folders. He handed them to Logan, who smiled back at him. "Congratulations on the anniversary."

Janus bowed his head, smiling as he glanced at a picture of their wedding day on his desk. "Thank you, it's been quite a journey so far."

Logan followed his gaze and felt a bittersweet smile wash over his face when he saw how happy they both looked in their picture. He pulled his eyes away from the frame and met Janus'. "I’ll take care of these cases, you won’t have to worry about a thing. Just enjoy your anniversary—and your party." Logan started to stand, hefting the case files and holding them against his chest.

Devin stuck his head in Janus' office as he walked by, “Hey, Jan, what time should I be there tonight?”

"Oh, excuse me, I'll—I'll leave you to it," he stuttered, heading for the door. Just before he left, he turned back and smiled at Janus, “I’m really happy for you both. See you when you get back."

Devin watched him walk down the hall toward his own office. Devin stepped inside, closing the door behind him. "That guy's so weird."

"Who? Cro—" Janus rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Logan?

Devin nodded, "Yeah, him. You went to law school with him, didn't you?"

Janus nodded, staring off in the direction Logan went. "Yeah. Yeah, I did."

"Has he always been like that? All..." Devin stiffened his face and did part of the Robot dance.

Janus side-eyed his friend before shaking his head lightly. "He's very private, very formal... He just doesn't like to talk about himself." Janus shrugged, "He's turned into a decent enough guy, I guess."

Devin scrunched his nose, "Like does he ever even talk to anyone here? I've never seen him go to lunch with anyone and I'd swear it was the second coming if he showed up at a happy hour."

Janus smirked at Devin, "Not everybody's a gossipy bitch like us."

Devin laughed. "But I mean, outside of work? Does anybody even know anything about him? Is he secretly a serial killer and he practices social justice law for kicks?"

Janus leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers in front of him, considering. "Well, he's married, or, was married, has a... couple of kids?" Janus shook his head again, waving his hand dismissively. "He likes to keep his personal life and his work life separate.

"He's an excellent lawyer. He was one of the primary writers on the Marriage Equality act, and has defended it in court four times since then. And" Janus stared significantly at Devin, "He takes on at least twice as many pro bono DV cases as you..." Devin made a face at him. Janus shrugged again, "He clearly has a passion for the work."

"Yeah, I know, but, come on..." Devin raised an eyebrow at his boss and his friend, "He doesn't exactly, you know, fit the culture here?"

Janus glared at him. "I'm going to pretend that you didn't just say that."

Devin picked up a tiny metal Rubix Cube from Janus' desk and sat back fiddling with it. "I just think the guy comes off as kinda... Cold." He frowned. "Unapproachable."

Janus shrugged, looking at the door. "We can't all be best friends here, I guess. Logan does good work. That's enough. We can overlook his, you know, standoffishness. He's polite and professional. He doesn't have to like us, too."

Devin played with the cube in his hands then finally looked up at Janus, smiling. "So... about your brother in law."

Janus grinned. "Yes, I think you'll like him."

"Well," Devin swooped his hand in a little 'go on' motion.  "Tell me more..."

Janus laughed. "Well, he's smart, funny, hot... You know they're twins, right?

Devin winked lasciviously. Janus made a face, "Uh-uh, none of your usual plays here or I'm calling this off. He's a nice guy. Don't hurt him."

Devin managed to look scandalized and flirtatious at the same time. "I won't, I swear."

"I mean it, for your own sake, too. My husband is very protective. Remus will kick your ass if you hurt his brother." Janus waved his hand, dismissing Devin when his phone rang. "And I'll help him."

[itsroxxanne-thatonestreamer]

HEY HEY HEY YALL!!! it’s yee-hawgust so it’s time for another story!

Forced to be loved but love to be yours, a osamu miya x oc!.

chapta 1: Let the games begin

I had been preparing myself for months, thinking of the most discrete way to sneak into the mafia building and steal the information. My country’s intelligence services knew how delicate this mission was and had entrusted it to their best agent: me. Crawling through the air duct of the mafia headquarters, i checked the map I was holding in one hand to locate the ventilation hatch giving access to the archive room. However, the shaft was dark, and i couldn't make out any trap door. I continued moving forward, hoping to see anything that could help me.

“Dammit” i muttered to myself, “It has to be somewhere. It should be her-”

I didn't have time to finish my sentence when i felt the trapdoor give way under my weight. I fell into the archive room and landed on a pile of old papers and files, hurting my bum in the process. 

“Ouch…” i complained while standing up. 

I rubbed my buttocks (i can’t get over that word🤣) to ease the pain, taking a few steps to stretch my muscles after the endless minutes I spent in the air duct. I took a look at the room around me: quiet and seemingly empty. The surroundings were barely lit, but i could make out shelves lined up next to each other filled with boxes marked with the "top secret" stamp. As I went to touch a box, i stopped as I heard a mocking laugh:

“That was quite a fall! Seems like you have a talent for dramatic entrances.”

Shit, i thought. I could recognise this assholes voice anywhere. his voice, full of this sarcastic tone and dripping with arrogance. It was of course fox, one of my dads worst enemies son. His dads name is Matsuda, his code name is wolf,and his sons name is atsumu but his code name is fox. their whole organization was mainly made up of those kinds of animals as code names.

I put on a cold expression as I prepared to turn around, facing him. There was no way I was going to show this idiot that he had taken me by surprise (even if it was pretty obvious).

“You seem to follow me everywhere: Paris, Buenos Aires, Cairo, now here. I’m starting to think you have a crush on me.” 

He spoke.

I rather quickly turned around to face him 

“Maybe you should stop thinking then.”

He let out a laugh. 

“At least you didn’t lose your sharpness, sweetheart.”

“What are you doing here?” I asked. 

“The same thing as you I assume.” 

I rolled my eyes. Of course, he was not going to give a clear answer, that would be too easy. But i needed to know: did he already find the file? Was I too late? How to steal it back from him? 

“All the time you waste talking to me is time you don't spend looking for information.” 

I noticed. 

Fox smirked, a sparkle in the eyes. I knew him well enough to know that this look was never a good sign. He was plotting something. 

“I have all the time I need.” He said as he slowly get surly walked towards me 

I let out a laugh. This behaviour would have fooled me a few years ago, but not now.

“So, you didn’t find it, huh? You’re very arrogant for someone this useless….sweetheart.” 

My answer took him by surprise, and he stopped dead in his tracks. After a few seconds he smiled, amused.

“You caught me. I don’t have the file.” He admitted. “I have been here long enough to understand the classification of documents though. If we teamed up, we could help each other.”

I glanced over at the shelves that lined up until they disappeared into the darkness. Who knew how many boxes this room had? Finding that file might take me longer than i thought. I looked back at the spy now towering over me. His dark clever gaze made me wary. I knew his penchant ( meaning a strong habitual liking for something or a tendency to do something) for devious schemes, and i also knew how easy it was for him to lie. Could I really take that risk?

“ Fine.” I said curtly. “But only today. This will never happen again. Ever.”

“As you wish, sweets.” He replied with satisfaction. 

He guided me as he zigzagged between the shelves, lighting the way with his lighter. 

“Stay close to me. It's easy to get lost here.” He whispered. 

I just rolled my eyes. He made it seem like we were in a horror movie with traps lurking around each corner. Yet I ignored it because he’s just being dramatic.

Finally, he stopped in front of a shelf. 

“It should be here, somewhere in one of those boxes. We find it together and we both have the info we need.”

I nodded and started opening the boxes as he did the same on his side. I opened files after files, not finding the one I was looking for. My temporary partner didn't seem to find anything either, and it was obvious that this was starting to annoy him. His jaw was clenched, and his eyes scanned the documents at full speed. 

“ You know you cant find this file by looking at me, right?” he said jokingly. 

I immediately focused again, opening another box. I took out the first stack of  papers i saw and read it. I smiled: I found it. 

“Seems like I can after all.” I said bobbing my head in a mocking way, brandishing my findings. 

I could not take my eyes off the paper cover, a smile light up my face. Fox moved closer to me to read the file over my left shoulder. His chest was almost touching my back to the point where i could feel the heat of his body even through my clothes. His proximity caught me by surprise but he didn't seem to mind. He photographed the pages of the file and then put his camera back in his pocket.

“Good, let's go. We can't hang around here.” 

We walked all the way back to the air duct, without exchanging a single word. 

“ I guess this is where we part ways.” He announced. “ This collaboration wasn’t that terrible. Plus, it gave you a good excuse to spend time with me.”

“You're more bearable when you're quiet, has anyone ever told you that?” 

He came closer to me, but i refused to move. It had been a long time since I was intimidated by him. He got so close that our noses almost touched. Finally, he whispered:

“ Yes, but it’s so much better when you say it.” 

Rising on tiptoe, i put my lips to his and slipped my hand around him. He put his hands on my cheeks and kissed me back. A smirk formed on my face as i pulled the mechanism that lifted me into the air to the hatch. Confused, he watched me pull myself up into the ventilation shaft. 

“i hope you know i still hate you” 

he said crossing his arms and looked up to me in the shaft.

“By the way, I took the liberty of borrowing your camera. I'll give it back to you the next time we meet. But I hope that day never comes.”

I hurriedly shut the vent door and pressed my ear to it. All I heard was him chuckling and in a raspy low devious voice he said,

“That girl”

I then heard him scoff and run away. I chuckled to myself but that smile quickly faded to a smirk, due to me realizing, I had just started the worlds most deadly game of tag.

OMG! i’m in love with this ong! lemme know if you wanna see a part two!

[honey-katsu]

necromancy by chickenKatsu (ao3)

Summary:

Izuku discovers he has a quirk when the ambulance doesn't arrive in time.

Warning: mild violence/canon-typical violence

note before we begin: i am chickenKatsu on ao3. I do not give anyone the right to repost my work to another platform unless I’m asked then properly credited. Please support me on ao3 and ko-fi if you like it!

“Mom, I’m home!”

Izuku shut the door behind him, rushing to take off his shoes. Today was a good day! Well, all his days weren’t that great by normal standards, but it was better than most days. The class presented research projects on anything they wanted. Izuku chose the science behind quirks. No one listened while he talked in the front of the classroom, but he didn't really care. Any opportunity to talk about quirks uninterrupted was good enough for him.

Izuku almost ran through the house towards the kitchen. He could usually find his mom there, making after-school snacks. But as Izuku rounded the corner, he didn’t see her. Confused, he decided to search the rest of the house. All the lights were off. All the fans, too. In each room, no trace of his mom could be found. 

Panic began to rise in Izuku’s chest. The last time she hadn't been in the house when he came home was almost 10 years ago. It was the day his father left. That day, he had found his mom crying in the backyard, trying to keep it together for his sake.

Oh, the backyard! I haven’t checked there, thought Izuku, speeding through the house. He shoved open the back door and raced outside. Frantically looking around, he almost missed the crumpled person laying near the vegetable garden.

“Mom!” Izuku cried, he rushed over, examining her for injuries. 

She was laying at an odd angle. Her arms spread out as if she had tried to catch herself. Her cheek was pressed against the grass, possibly bruised due to a fall. Other than that, she was uninjured. Quickly, Izuku checked her pulse. Nothing. He pressed harder and harder, anxiety growing with every passing second. A whimper escaped Izuku’s trembling lips.

 Suddenly, he felt it, although steadily becoming weaker. His mom was still alive. Izuku knew this wasn’t the time to cry, but he did anyway. With one hand still pressed against his mom’s neck to monitor her, Izuku managed to call 119, vision blurred by unending tears.

“Hello,” he said into the phone, voice and hands shaking with adrenaline and worry. “My mom is dying… Please help her.”

----------

Aizawa was looking forward to going home. Today had been a long day of rounding up villains and petty criminals, and all he wanted was to go home and snuggle with his cats and his husband.

He sighed as he signed the last of the paperwork for the drug-selling gang members he brought to the police station. Just as he was about to get the hell out of the stuffy station, Tsukauchi burst out of his office, scrambling for his coat and keys.

“What’s the rush?” he casually asked as the detective passed him.

Tsukauchi did a double take. “Eraser! Just the person I wanted to see. Come with me. No time to explain!” He dragged the pro hero to his police car and shoved him in, turning on his sirens and speeding through traffic.

“You know,” Aizawa said bluntly, “I wanted to go home now.”

“Sorry,” Tsukauchi said with an apologetic glance and a small smile. “But there was no one else qualified available. Look through this.” 

He held out a hastily compiled file. As Aizawa skimmed through the information, he continued, “Midoriya Izuku, age 13, called an ambulance for his mother, who he found passed out in their backyard after school. He said her pulse was very weak and getting weaker, but has no idea what caused his mother to collapse. He has no other immediate family or friends we could call to help out. You're a therapist, so I need you there to comfort the kid, Eraser. And be prepared. From what I heard she could be dead by the time we get there.”

“Okay fine,” Aizawa sighed. He would never turn his back on a child.

Tsukauchi smiled for a moment before his serious expression returned. They drove in silence for a few more minutes before arriving at the Midoriya house. An ambulance was already there. But something was wrong. It was too quiet. As Aizawa and Tsukauchi approached, there was none of the usual organized chaotic sounds of the paramedics. 

Aizawa sped ahead of the detective, worried for the kid. When he got to the backyard, he froze. All the paramedics laid on the ground. A hunched figure stood over one of them. A middle-aged woman, maybe about 5’3” -- Aizawa couldn't really tell because she wasn’t standing up straight, -- held a dented watering can. Past her was a boy crouched over a little garden. He was still, statue-like as he just sat amongst the chaos. His green hair blew in the breeze. But where is his mother?

Aizawa moved slowly and silently. As he made his way over to the boy, who he assumed was Midoriya Izuku, he appraised the woman. She didn't move; her head never turned to look at the newcomers but transfixed on the kid. There were leaves and dirt tangled in her green hair.

A twig snapped under Aizawa’s foot. With a voiceless snarl, the woman ran towards him with her watering can poised for a strike. Aizawa ducked to the side, rolling out of the way. He caught a glimpse of her vacant eyes, staring past him. Activating his quirk, he lunged at the rampaging woman. She escaped his grasp, running to Izuku, and Aizawa bashed into a flower bush. Oh no, Aizawa thought, frantically trying to untangle his capture scarf from the little branches. She’s going for the kid!

But the woman didn’t attack the boy. She stood over him, as if trying to protect him from anyone who got too close. She was like a mother cat, trying to scare off those who dared harm her kitten.

“Tsukauchi,” Aizawa called with a low voice. He didn’t wait for a response. “Is this woman the kid’s mother?”

“Looks like it,” Tsukauchi mused grimly. “I checked their files while you were fighting. That’s definitely Midoriya Inko and her son Izuku.”

“But I thought she had collapsed! You said she was probably dying as we spoke. So how the hell is she able to stand, let alone knock out the paramedics?” Aizawa growled, eyes never leaving the mother and son.

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s a quirk? When he called, Midoriya-kun said there were no signs of a struggle, so I don't think this was caused by a villain. Maybe it’s her quirk.”

“Definitely not. I already tried cancelling her quirk, but nothing happened. Also, she’d have to be conscious to use it, which she’s not from what I can tell. Let me try something...” Aizawa trailed off and glanced at Izuku, who hadn’t moved an inch. He activated his quirk, and immediately Inko fell. Izuku flinched violently as she hit the ground, turning to stare at his mother’s crumpled form. He didn't seem to be aware of the pro hero, detective, or unconscious paramedics

Aizawa began to approach again, cautiously this time, so he could tie up Inko. As he got closer, he observed the teenager. Freckles littered his face. Tears stained his cheeks, and more threatened to spill from his eyes. His eyes matched the green of his hair but were nearly void of emotion. His lips were cracked and dry. 

Keeping his quirk activated, Aizawa reached for Izuku. As soon as he placed his hand on his shoulder, Izuku launched himself into Aizawa’s arms, sobbing buckets of tears he thought the kid had run out of.

Aizawa ran his fingers through Izuku’s messy green hair, murmuring a few empty reassurances and deactivating his quirk. Tsukauchi checked on Inko, feeling her skin and her pulse. After a moment, he locked eyes with Aizawa and shook his head. Midoriya Inko was dead and, from the looks of it, had been for a while.

“Hey kid,” Aizawa said softly, pulling Izuku off of him to look him in the eyes. “I’m pro hero Eraserhead. “Can you tell me what happened?”

The kid sniffled, attempting to get himself to speak. Tears poured from Izuku’s eyes as he spoke. His voice was surprisingly calm as he softly whispered, “I found Mom in the backyard. I called an ambulance but they weren’t on time. She’s dead.”

“But she was fighting me,” Aizawa said, trying not to make the boy cry again. “It was because of your quirk.”

“Not possible,” he muttered. “I’m quirkless.”

“Kid, I think that diagnosis might be wrong. My quirk, Erasure, can cancel the quirks of anyone I look at. When I looked at you, she fell down. That means it was your quirk.”

“No no no,” Izuku said, eyes widening in fear. Shaking his head rapidly, he began to shake and tears fell. “That’s not possible. I’m useless. I’m quirkless . I can’t do anything. I don’t want to be here. I just want my mom !”

At Izuku’s plea, Midoriya Inko rose. Her body moved clunkily as she stood. Tsukauchi yelped in shock as Inko stepped towards Izuku and Aizawa. Aizawa activated his quirk again, and this time Inko fell into Tsukauchi’s arms.

“Hey, it’ll be okay,” Aizawa tried tenderly. “Your name is Izuku right? Can you tell me how you felt when you found your mom here?”

“Her pulse weakened. She stopped breathing and started getting colder.” Izuku shivered and clutched Aizawa’s arm, avoiding eye contact with the pro hero. “I thought… ‘This can’t happen. Mom is healthy and strong. She wouldn’t leave me. She still wants to protect me.’ And then she got up. I didn’t do anything. Then the paramedics arrived and, well, you saw the rest.”

Tsukauchi and Aizawa shared a look. An unknown quirk, an unstable kid, and a dead mother. What a horrible combination.

[pretensesoup]

Anything for @tryxyhijinks.

Okay so to begin with, I just want to say I'm old enough that I don't really put any faith in institutions to do the right thing when they can possibly avoid it. I don't know why I feel the need to say that--maybe because I'm constantly reminding myself/being reminded of it? Just looking at Madison politics you can see this, from the origins of Mifflin Street Block Party in the late 60s with Paul FUCKING Soglin as one of the founders, and the police trying to shut it down, tear gassed people, etc., to him trying to shut it down when he was mayor.

But I don't want to talk about contemporary Madison politics too much. It's too depressing and also I'm afraid if I slander the DA I'm gonna get my ass handed to me somehow. Instead, let's look at the 60s. (OKAY in the following I somewhat conflate UW and Madison as entities. I…am not going to unpick this. Sorry. When you have a big governmental entity like the university and also a city, there's always a push-pull between them, but also you have to believe that a lot of things, like policing etc., are done collaboratively. Also I didn't even get to policing in the below but anyway you should read this if you're interested.)

Madison made history by adopting Wisconsin's first fair housing regulations in 1963. At the time, only 27% of rentals and 12% of houses were available to people of color. The new ordinance forbade discrimination on the basis of race, creed, color, or ancestry. (https://www.channel3000.com/madison-magazine/city-life/madison-made-civil-rights-history-in-1963-by-adopting-the-first-fair-housing-ordinance-in/article_2986059b-3ab2-5850-ab9e-373e34cbaf4e.html) But if you go and read that article, you'll see that there was a lot of opposition from realtor groups and even an alder whose district was FIFTY-FIVE PERCENT BLACK. The vote was eventually 11-11, with the mayor breaking the tie. Because of exemptions added in the negotiation process, about 60% of the city's housing stock was exempted from the rule.

Moving forward to 1969. I actually allude to the Black student strike in January/February of that year in the book's opening paragraphs! (https://news.wisc.edu/black-student-strike/) Students had thirteen demands, including the creation of a Black Studies department, more Black student power over the administrators/teachers that had power over them, an increase in Black student admissions, and more. The university responded with a lot of mealy-mouthed "we are definitely failing these students and we're sorry" rhetoric. Although they managed to organize a 10,000 person protest that didn't devolve into a riot (a really big achievement), TWO-THIRDS of the professors sided with the administration, and ultimately the demands weren't really met at the time (in March 1969, a Black Studies Department was established). Up until WWII, UW departments had "implicit quotas" on the number of Jewish faculty they would hire, and during the same time period as the Black student unrest, administrators capped out-of-state admissions "to drastically reduce the number of Jewish students attending UW" (source: https://asset.library.wisc.edu/1711.dl/NK4EX2U5W4HBN9A/R/file-a0783.pdf?dl, p. 9; I would imagine this had a similar affect on the admission of Black students, because Wisconsin is a VERY white state. ANYWAY if you're like "why did every Jewish person during this time period go to University of Chicago?" It's because they were the one that didn't have a quota.)

There were, unsurprisingly, protests about the presence of the ROTC on campus as well, starting in like…let's say 1966. In 1989, faculty voted to kick them off campus for anti-LGBTQ+ discrimination, but the board of regents declined (https://www.tumblr.com/madisonlgbtq/616656471749443584/30-years-ago-5-days-of-protests-against-the-rotc). In the early 2000s, I still had friends who were protesting the ROTC on campus.

The TAA, one of the first teaching assistant unions in the country, was agitating for same-sex partner benefits very early on (1993), but because they had to negotiate both with UW and the state, they didn't actually get it until like 2008!!! (Source: https://taa-madison.org/history/) Wisconsin codified sexual orientation as a protected class in 1982 (the first state in the nation to do it!) but to satisfy conservatives, the bill also condemned premarital sex (link: https://www.channel3000.com/madison-magazine/looking-back-uncovering-so-called-gay-purges-at-uw-madison/article_d4b1dbd0-e2af-11ed-95c3-fb4a2c4bf0e4.html). Sigh. (BUT! As an upshot because of early LGBTQ+ political organizing, I am currently represented by both a gay congressman and a lesbian senator! Like as a direct result--the earlier generation inspired Mark Pocan and Tammy Baldwin to go into politics.)

And--I really wanted to talk about this in the book, but the book is not about the protest movement. Those few paragraphs (and giving Dionysus to the underdogs and the marginalized, which is…not necessarily a bad claim to make? Like his followers in The Bacchae are women, but we also don't really know much about his cult because it was a mystery cult, so nothing was written down) were really the best I could wedge it in there. As I move into the second book and start thinking about Ulysses's discomfort at becoming part of the establishment, this is one of the things I've been turning over in my mind.

It's not like everyone involved at UW or in the community as a whole is terrible. There were plenty of professors who opposed this shit, and also people who were students at the time who went on to become the old radical professors I studied under. But it's easy to see, looking at the history, that administrators and city officials are again and again handed the chance to do the right thing, and again and again they just throw it the fuck away.

So that's, like, a very brief overview. TL;DR I have three degrees from UW and on a good day I'm only mildly embarrassed by this fact.

Queer books, day 30/30

Okay I have owed this post for like a while now. This was supposed to be over July 1st and I didn't do it and now it's hanging over my head like some kind of sword situation.

So like I did write this, and I do feel a little bad for promoting it here, but on the other hand it's a really good book and I have to tell people about it.

Dionysus in Wisconsin follows Ulysses Lenkov and Sam Sterling around Madison in late 1969. Ulysses is a grad student in the Department of Magic Studies, with all the regrets and avoidant behavior that entails, but also a magician and a member of the magic community in Madison, and he tries to help the people he runs into. (Also ghosts. He helps ghosts.) At the beginning, he gets a warning that something big/dangerous/bad is coming, and quickly figures out that the something is tied to Sam somehow. Sam is an otherwise very innocuous archivist who works at the State Historical Society and is involved in community theater in his spare time.

Side note, I learned that there is a woman in my aikido dojo who also works for the historical society and I feel weird about having written about it, but as she said herself, "It's a weird place."

After initial suspicion, the two of them work together to fight demons and try to figure out how to deal with the something, which turns out to be Dionysus (yes, the god) who is set to take over Sam's body.

Key quote:

Oh, also it's funny. Not quite a romcom (unless com means communism), but it's funny.

Anyway, this was a book that I wrote because I really wanted to read a romance that didn't have a third-act breakup, where there was a lot of chemistry and vibes between the MCs, no homophobia to worry about really, and also there was like magic and creepy stuff going on in the plot, and the plot had like a satisfying conclusion to it, which doesn't always happen in romances. And then I populated the book with people who were people that I know--the kind of weird Madison people I run into every day. I have a lot of mixed feelings about Wisconsin in general (like, it's not bad if you don't mind sometimes it's -20 degrees F and there's a lot of liberals but also a lot of NIMBYism and I could fill a dictionary with the sins of the city, that's not the point), but I have come to a renewed appreciation of the place after writing about it. For example, the house Ulysses's family lives in is real, it looks like this, it's in a place that's really called Mansion Hill, and I just find it incredibly funny to let a large family of Bohemian Bolsheviks live in it.

Anyway, 10/10, go read it. You can buy it on Amazon, or on other platforms (the ebook is $3.99, the paperback is $13.99), or if you want a signed copy you can send me a message. I'm selling them for $15. Also, I have free postcards of the cover if you would like one.

In the Madison area, there are (or were) copies at Kismet Books in Verona (an extremely trans- and queer-friendly store and super adorable!) and A Room of One's Own might have sold their copy but they can order it if they have the ISBN.

(Oh, I painted the cover, too. You can get it on a T-shirt or a sticker if you like that kind of thing.)

[dreamersinthedaylightinspo]

THE DREAMERS IN THE DAYLIGHT: HIGH LADY

Scene: Feyre takes the Stand

WARNING: This fic is strongly Feysand-critical, and contains OCs who do not have their backstories described in the below scene. This is a scene from my fic, the Dreamers in the Daylight, which is in drafting stages. I've made efforts to tag properly here on Tumblr but please be forewarned when you read.

With the chime of a bell, the court was now in session.

Feyre sat up straight on the stand, recalling her lessons with Rhys. Look only at Eunomia - not the Night Court. Here, against her, it would be no good to show vulnerability. The Keeper of Laws and Scales had no feelings - a heart of pure stone - and she would take Feyre's natural desire to seek her mate's support and guidance as a weakness to exploit. She must only be the High Lady of Night, seated above everything and everyone.

Eunomia thumbed carefully through her stack of papers and files. Feyre spared a glance for the assembled Courts in the galleries above then. As expected, Tamlin was seated near the rail, flanked by his young sentry. He watched as Eunomia, satisfied now with her organization, straightened her back and approached the bench. The Keeper's golden robes swished softly around her sandaled ankles as she stepped lightly across the mosaic floor.

Feyre drew her eyes to Eunomia's just as Tamlin shifted his gaze to the bench. To her.

She schooled her face unto cool neutrality, despite the surge of anger she felt.

They really were two little peas in a pod, Feyre thought.

She expected the sound of Rhys's dark, melodious laugh at her remarks - but there was only silence.

The spell - the invocation of Truth - it had blocked their abilities. For the first time in years, Feyre was utterly alone inside of her own head.

A pang of unease struck as she instinctively dug down for that bridge, that bond - but there was nothing. Only quiet and memories. Her own memories, and nothing of Rhysand.

Feyre risked a glance at the assembled Night Court - her sisters, her family, her mate. Nesta was busy caring for Nyx, but Cassian had arrived, seated on Rhysand's right side.

Her mate locked eyes with her, and nodded.

"My lady, I have asked you a question. "

Feyre emerged, into reality. "Repeat it, if you please."

No apologies. Not for this female - not now. Eunomia repeated, "I have asked you to identify your name for our record."

"Feyre Archeron, the Cauldron-Breaker, High Lady of Night, Defender of thr Rainbow."

"Strike the High Lady's additional titles," Eunomia said, with a glance towards the shifting quill scratched notes on an endless roll of parchment. The quill immediately drew lines through its previous work. "In future, my lady, please use only your name and your official titles for identification purposes."

"If you insist."

"I do, thank you. Do you understand your duties here?"

"I am to tell the truth."

"That is correct. You swore an oath. Do you also understand why you are here?"

"I am here," said Feyre, "to correct a great injustice and misunderstanding that you seem to have about my Court."

Eunomia didn't rise to the taunt. "Can you elaborate on your point?"

"The Night Court has not always been a steadfast or reliable ally and friend to the peoples of Prythian," said Feyre, putting a hand over her heart as she addressed the assembled lords and ladies. "However, your accusations - your crusade - is in vain. You seem to have some strange ideas about our role in the tragic events of the past. I believe that we will be able to correct your misunderstandings today."

Silence was to be expected, but Feyre decided that she had made a decent show of it. The trick was not to be overly flashy - trying to make herself more eloquent never served - but to be sincere, and she was. They had to remember that Eunomia was at fault. She had called this trial for revenge. The Night Court's mistakes were their own.

Eunomia merely raised an eyebrow. "Very well. Let's begin, then. Can you describe your duties as High Lady of Night?"

Feyre replied, "I manage correspondence and arrange meetings. I also preside over the Hewn City on occasion. I listen to and hear our people’s concerns, and alleviate them. I organize and find solutions to our problems. I find it best to interact personally with our people – to meet with them as individuals, rather than as a faceless mass of subjects. I also teach in Velaris.”

"What do you teach?"

"Art. I'm a painter."

"I see. And what else?"

Feyre blinked. "I'm sorry?"

And winced - that was too close to an apology, even if she hadn't meant it as such. She should have said, "I beg your pardon?" or "Excuse me?" or something else more - High Ladyish.

"What else is there?" Eunomia asked. "Do you have any other responsibilities?"

Feyre's gut suddenly clenched. "I don't like what you're implying."

"I am not implying anything. It is important, before we proceed, that we have the most accurate information. I am asking if you have any other responsibilities that you may have neglected to mention."

Inhale, exhale. Her explosion of temper had saved her once, but not now. Not now. "No, that's all."

"I see. You have described some managerial duties. Can you elaborate on this more? Do you manage any of the Night Court's correspondence with foreign nations?"

"No."

"Do you manage anything with regards to trade, either between foreign nations or the other sovereign Courts?"

"Not directly, no."

"Do you manage anything with regards to the Night Court's military - for example, do you train and manage units of soldiers?"

"No."

Feyre winced again. She'd gotten into a rhythm and answered without thinking. She was a fighter. A warrior, like her mate. She should have said yes - even if, technically, Eunomia's question was not about her own fighting prowess.

But the Keeper merely continued, "Do you manage any diplomatic relations between the other sovereign Courts of Prythian?"

This was a trap. This was a trap. Without her bond with Rhysand, filling the emptiness inside of her, she might as well have been that teenage girl in the woods, freezing and alone again. Eunomia's eyes were as gray as the skies above the barren trees. Always, the winter, in her memories. "No," said Feyre.

"I see. So, you have now described for us your duties. You are High Lady, and in that capacity, you interact personally with the people of the Night Court, and manage certain tasks – but you are not involved in trade, diplomacy, the military, or international relations. Am I understanding correctly?”

Damn her. This was her goal - to make Feyre so small, and weak, and flushed with shame. "That's not right."

"I am repeating what you have told me. Recall that you swore an oath to speak the truth."

"I haven't lied, but you -"

High Lady of the Desk. She'd made that joke to Rhysand, privately, in their own bedroom, and yet, Eunomia had somehow aired it out in front of everyone. She'd minimized it. There was no High Lady in Prythian, until her. No females who ruled as equals with their mates, until her. And yet, Eunomia made it so insignificant.

I don't think I could handle it... if they called me High Lady.

She felt each pair of eyes, watching her, as if they could see what was under her skin. As if they could see what was in the mirror, lurking just beyond her subconsciousness. Her true self, which only Rhysand really knew, which she had done so much to conquer. To accept.

When she didn't answer, Eunomia replied, "That's fine. We can move on. Perhaps you may clarify some other things for me."

She went back to her table and drew up one of her files.

"As you know, I have spent a considerable amount of time speaking to witnesses and constructing a timeline of the relevant events. I am going to read for you the timeline that I have constructed. Please stop me at any point if I have something incorrect. To my understanding: the curse upon this land was broken in midsummer. Six months passed, and you began planning your wedding to Lord Tamlin –” Here, Eunomia pointed to where he was seated in the gallery, “– and presumably, began to assume the duties of the Lady of Spring. However, your wedding was interrupted due to a bargain that was struck between you and Lord Rhysand –”

Here, again, she pointed, and Feyre seized the opportunity to look at him again. Her beautiful, perfect mate. She ached for his voice in her head, his dark power flooding through her, soothing her as it always, always had. His sparkling eyes were full of emotion, and Feyre heard the echoes of him, telling her to be strong. Be strong. Be brave.

She could do it, if he was here. This was only another obstacle that they would overcome, as she and Rhysand had always overcome everything - together.

I love you, Feyre thought. She let it shine out of her. I love you more than life itself. More than anything. She knew that it would reach him, even though her thoughts were shielded from his.

Eunomia was still speaking. “You spent intermittent periods in the Night Court, as a result of this bargain. However, in the winter of that year, there came a point when Lord Rhysand did not return you after the expected week was past. Two months later, you returned to Spring, after the bargain was severed by King Conand the Second of Hybern. Is this timeline correct, to your estimation?”

Feyre lifted her chin. Nothing would break her. Not even this. "That's correct, yes."

"Very well. At what point, then, did you become High Lady of Night?"

The silence in the courtroom was utterly complete. Feyre felt her hard-won confidence teeter, standing on the ledge of that old insecurity. Two months - but Velaris was home. The Night Court, her family. They were hard months, to be sure, and all the work that had come after - no. No, she couldn't take this away, too. She couldn't reduce the love that Feyre's family shared. She had spent so long trying to forget those dark times, and yet -

"My lady," Eunomia prompted. "Do you need me to repeat the question?"

"It was just before I was taken back to Spring.” Not returned. Feyre wouldn’t give her that, wouldn’t pretend that she’d gone back willingly. “We went before the priestess – Rhysand and I, after I found out that he was my mate.”

"Were there any witnesses, apart from the priestess?"

Feyre felt a chill run down her spine. "We have a certificate. It's notarized properly."

For a horrifying moment, Feyre waited for Eunomia to say, "But how could you possibly know that, since you are illiterate?"

But Eunomia merely replied, "Yes, I have a copy in my records. I am asking if there were witnesses."

"It was a private ceremony," said Feyre, and by the fucking gods, there was no way to sound confident now. Not when she saw so clearly the path that this was treading down. "We intended - later - to invite our family."

"So, there were no witnesses at your marriage and mating ceremony."

Feyre closed her eyes. "No. There were no witnesses."

"And when you ascended your throne, did Lord Rhysand give you any official responsibilities?"

"No. I wasn't made High Lady for any official agenda. I was made High Lady because we love each other, and because we are partners."

Eunomia simply nodded, not reacting to her words. “So, you were made High Lady in a secret ceremony, with no witnesses, and you were then returned to Spring with no official responsibilities.”

"I just told you it wasn't secret. With Hybern on our doorstep, attacking us, kidnapping my sisters -"

"But it was a secret," said Eunomia, pinning Feyre in place with her sharp voice. "You had no witnesses, and didn’t tell anyone. In fact, no one outside of the Night Court knew that you had become High Lady until after you had left the Spring Court a second time, after months had passed. You were not debuted formally before the High Council until well after the invasion of Prythian had begun.”

There it was - the crux of the argument. Feyre bit her tongue, and said nothing, so Eunomia moved on.

"In your current capacity as High Lady, you do not directly or individually handle any matter relating to foreign relations, trade, military, or inter-court diplomacy. Yet you immediately returned to Spring upon your ascension as High Lady of Night. Can you explain to me why that is?”

"It wasn't immediate - it was because of Tamlin. Because of what he did with Hybern -"

"Forgive me, but I'm not sure what you're trying to say. Are you suggesting that you became High Lady before your mating ceremony, because of Lord Tamlin's involvement with Hybern?"

“No.” Feyre felt – heavy. Stupid. Stupid, stupid ignorant human. Unworthy. Unimportant. "I became High Lady because I love my mate."

"Then, why did you return to Spring?"

She was utterly ruthless, immovable. Worse than Nesta. Conspiracy, sabotage, and insurrection. Justice and revenge. Feyre stared in amazement at the Keeper, who merely folded her hands behind her back to wait for her response.

"I didn't do anything wrong," said Feyre. "When I was taken back to Spring, I did what was necessary."

"Necessary."

"Yes."

"Define necessary," said Eunomia.

Feyre repeated, "I didn't do anything wrong."

"I am not asking if you think you did wrong. I am asking you to define what actions you took in Spring that you deemed necessary. What was your goal?"

Tamlin's eyes - so watchful, even from beneath his golden mask - were on her now. Feyre felt them most of all. His eyes had always been on her. Watching, but not seeing. Not until it was too late. Him, and now Eunomia - this was all their fault.

"He had made some sort of truce with Hybern," said Feyre, deciding that she wouldn't even spare him a glance of contempt. "I assumed that he cared more for his people than he did - that they would be safe."

"This does not answer my question. What, exactly, was your goal when you returned to the Spring Court, despite having been mated, married, and ascended upon the throne of the Night Court? What, exactly, did you deem it ‘necessary’ to do while you were there?”

Thrice-damned she-devil, Feyre thought, barely leashing her fury. Eunomia was going to force her to say it out loud, as if it wasn't in her precious timeline of "relevant events." As if they didn't know what the justice of Night looked like.

“I tried to tell – Tamlin,” said Feyre, stumbling somewhat over his name. She’d rarely spoken it aloud since the end of the war. “I tried to tell him that I wasn’t going back to the Spring Court, but he didn’t listen. He never listens. So, I had to return – so that he wouldn’t hurt me, or my family.”

"Did you tell him that you had become the High Lady of Night?"

"No." Of course not.

Eunomia, for some reason, didn't push her on this. "What was Lord Tamlin's reaction, when you returned to the Spring Court?"

He'd held her. Feyre remembered how devastated she'd been, to be away from her new mate. She recalled how much she'd wanted to rip Tamlin's arms from his body, to break the hands that were touching her, since they didn't belong to Rhysand. She also remembered that there had been tears in his eyes. Tamlin had always been a surprisingly emotional creature. He had only ever wanted to keep her safe, regardless of how it made her feel.

"He was relieved, I think," said Feyre. "He seemed to think he was rescuing me." Then, remembering herself, she added dismissively, "I wouldn't know for sure. You'd need to ask him."

"Rescuing you? From what?"

"From my family. My mate."

"But you didn't tell him that you had been mated to Lord Rhysand. You told no one that you were High Lady of Night."

"I couldn't."

"Why?"

Feyre stared at her. Tamlin had been cursed to hold a heart of stone, but this? This was another degree. "I wouldn't expect you to understand that kind of situation."

“Then please, my lady, enlighten me,” said Eunomia, “as to why you would formally join another Court, in its second-highest position of power, and fail to disclose that information to your former fiancé, after he believed – as you say – that he was rescuing you from your own Court. You have to understand that this strains credulity. And furthermore, you still haven’t answered my original question. What actions were necessary, after you returned to the Spring Court?”

The audacity of her. The sheer arrogance.

"I did nothing wrong."

Eunomia sighed. "I request the court's permission to treat the witness as uncooperative."

The spells lining the edge of the room flared slightly, and Feyre felt as the magic crept into her throat, twisted around her vocal chords and pull. She gasped.

"My apologies, High Lady," said Eunomia, without so much as an ounce of sincerity, "I realize this may seem harsh, but I must say that you are being extremely vague in your responses. Please, speak as clearly as possible, and provide relevant details to the court going forward. Otherwise, I dare say that we might be here all day."

Feyre had never hated anyone more than she hated Eunomia, in this moment.

The command from the Keeper of Laws and Scales was absolute. Feyre could not, dared not refuse anymore.  The binding spell – the Authority of Truth – was strong, and there was no ability that she possessed that allowed her to bypass this. Even Helion’s sharp magic, latent within her, yielded before Truth. Feyre felt the memories rise to her mind, unbidden. Her secret, innermost thoughts, her feelings, her dreams and her fears –

"I needed to punish them," said Feyre. "For what they did to me."

"Who is they? What happened?"

"I was drowning."

"In a lake? Please, my lady -"

“No,” Feyre snapped. “I was suffering – after what happened Under the Mountain – and no one in that entire damned Court lifted so much as a finger to help me. Tamlin was making it worse, smothering me, lashing out with his magic – and even when I’d escaped, he couldn’t let me be happy. So when he came to drag me back, I decided to show everyone the kind of monster that he really is. I showed them all his true self.”

Eunomia paused, just a moment. She regarded Feyre, but was as inscrutable as ever. Then, she said, "So, you felt that the Spring Court had become inhospitable to you. You left for the Night Court, became High Lady – and did not tell anyone that you had formally renounced your ties to Spring, or to Lord Tamlin. Then, you returned to Spring, to punish them – all the while failing to disclose your true intent. Am I understanding you correctly, my lady?”

Saying it like that was - wrong. Wrong, somehow. Feyre bit her cheek, trying to resist.

"I was only -"

"It is a yes or no question, my lady. I will remind you again that you swore an oath."

The Authority of Truth was squeezing her throat. Feyre choked out, "Yes."

When the pressure was relieved, Feyre coughed, and added, "But – it was to protect Velaris. They couldn’t know about Velaris, not back then. I wanted everyone to be safe but our people –”

Eunomia waved her hand dismissively, and turned to face the assembled gallery.

"The court appreciates and thanks you for your testimony today. This concludes my presentation of the evidence on charges of conspiracy - "

"It wasn't my fault!"

She rose to her feet, the shout in her voice causing Eunomia to turn right on her heels.

“My lady, I will not ask you again. You will show respect to this court and these proceedings, or I shall treat you as hostile. Please, sit down.”

"You don't get to do this." Feyre's voice was breathy to her own ears. Her blood pounded. "You don't get to rewrite the narrative of what happened."

"My lady -"

"You have no idea. No idea what it was like for me - and you don't get to brush my suffering aside because it's convenient for your political agenda -"

"Political agenda?"

For the first time, Eunomia's face revealed a flicker of emotion.

And it was rage.

Pure, incandescent rage, a mirror to Feyre's own. So, there was a heart, after all, somewhere in Eunomia's chest. But she couldn’t be satisfied that she’d gotten a reaction out of the Keeper of Laws and Scales. Not when Eunomia marched back to her banister, reached into one of her many files, and drew up a set of papers.

"My lady, do you have any idea how many children died during Hybern's invasion of the Spring Court?"

Feyre grimaced. Not my fault. Justice. "No."

“Six hundred and thirty-seven,” said Eunomia. “The Spring Court’s records are better intact than most, due to their circumstances during the reign of the so-called High Queen. However, many of their villages were completely flattened, reduced to ashes, and their records along with them. So, given the fluctuating nature of refugee populations, and the expected gap in recordings – we shall say that six hundred and thirty-seven children of Spring died during the invasion of Hybern, that we know of. I suspect that the true count is much, much higher."

Block it out. Forget. Remember - it was not her fault. Feyre closed her eyes.

“So, earlier, you said that you assumed – rather than directly ascertaining – that Hybern had made some deal with Lord Tamlin, wherein the rights and dignities of the Spring Court’s people would be respected even if he lost his authority,” said Eunomia. “You assumed that an invading army would spare the females, elderly, and the children, is that correct?”

No. Not like that. Feyre didn't want to think of it. Didn't want to believe.

"I made an error in judgement. I didn't consider whether we'd need the Spring Court's armies - to fight Hybern, later."

"Just the armies," said Eunomia, dryly.

There was damnation in her tone. I am a murderer. From the moment she'd become fae, there had been blood on her hands. From the moment she'd entered Prythian, in fact. But the Spring Court - no, it was different. It wasn't like Velaris. It wasn't her home, even when Feyre lived there. It was Tamlin. Tamlin was Spring, and he was the Court. He was the one that she'd braved the Mountain for, the one she'd cared about. He was the one she'd wanted to destroy.

So, she hadn't thought about the Spring Court at all.

"Do you have anything else that you would like to add to the record, or shall I conclude the proceedings now?"

When Feyre did not answer her - there was nothing that she could say, to that, anyway - Eunomia approached the bench and handed her the sheets of papers. Feyre was too stunned to do anything except take them, with numb fingers, and regard the list. Names, ages, places of birth and residence. It was a thick packet.

"Since you were unawares before," said Eunomia. "Here. You may wish to inform yourself of the facts before you return to this court."

And with that last condemnation, Eunomia once again faced the gallery.

"My lady, you may step down from the bench. The court thanks you for your time and testimony today. This concludes the presentation of evidence in regards to charges of conspiracy against the Spring Court. We are now adjourned for today."

The spells flared one last time, and the bell chimed. The magic dimmed and receded like a tide, and Feyre felt the threads of her own magic resurface.

Darkness flooded her - sweet night. Darling.

Silently, she reached across the bridge for her mate. Feyre exhaled shakily, relieved when she found him. He filled her head with warmth, with stars, with love. She had survived, though she felt now that she may have been skinned alive.

Rhys, tell me everything is going to be okay.

For the space of one heartbeat - two - three - four - she received no answer.

Rhys?

At last, Feyre looked up.

She saw Eunomia carefully folding her papers, and tucking them under her arm before she bustled out of the doors. She saw the Courts of Summer, Autumn, and Winter rising to depart. She saw Thesan lean over to engage Helion in conversation - and at his side, Daphne, looking satisfied.

Footsteps approached - her Court. Her family. Feyre smiled, relieved for just a second - until she saw the looks on their faces.

Rhysand surged forward, extending a hand to help her down from the bench. Feyre squeezed his cold fingers, and did not let go as she stood, and stretched. He quickly seized the packet from her hands, and handed it to Azriel, who tucked it away just as quickly, out of sight. Cassian was looking pale, but extended his wings just so, as if to block them all from sight of the others. Elain was wringing her hands, half-turned away to where Eunomia was already disappearing out of the court's main entrance.

Worst of all was Amren.

"What were you thinking, girl?" she asked, low with disappointed. "What happened?"

"Not now, Amren."

Rhysand's voice was harsh, his face tight as he drew Feyre against him, to his side, rubbing her arm.

"What is it?" she asked, looking around at them. "I thought -"

"Not now," Rhysand repeated, gentler, but he still did not look at her. "We need to rethink our strategy. Mor -"

"I'll go," Azriel said.

He half-glanced at Elain, who was not looking at anyone. Her eyes were still on the gallery, eyeing the faeries who were slowest to depart. The Day Court, especially - Feyre realized that she had not seen Lucien all day, had not even looked for him. But Azriel showed now reaction, and turned to stride quickly out of the courtroom.

Rhys, what did I do?

Feyre gazed up to him. Her mate, her great love, the father of her son.

Amren's gaze simmered with unusual contempt, gazing at her High Lord.

"If we coddle her," she said, "then she will never learn."

Rhysand growled, "Not here, Amren."

"No," Feyre said, blood pounding in her ears. "No, Amren - tell me. I need to know."

Rhysand's distress made itself known to her through their bond, feeding Feyre's own - but he said nothing when Amren glared at Feyre and hissed:

"You admitted to the charges. She asked you if you hid your true intent from the Spring Court, on behalf of the Night Court. That is conspiracy. You said 'yes.'"

It wasn't her fault. She'd done nothing wrong. Those dead children, dead faeries - that wasn't her. It was Hybern who had killed them. Tamlin, who had failed them. Feyre had survived everything, and gotten justice for the harm done to her. Justice.

But the spell must have had an aftertaste - because she couldn't admit it. It would be a lie.

Rhys...

It's alright. The dark rumble of his voice still soothed her. We'll figure it out, darling. We'll fix this.

Together.

My fault.

[ardate]

4, 8, 9, 30 :]

4. Fav character/subject that's a bitch to draw

Honestly? Humans as a whole, still. I started art a long time ago, originally mostly focusing on animals and creatures, til I started drawing humans sometime in middle school - and I never stopped drawing them since! But yet, somehow, even though by now I probably have drawn more humans and human-adjacent characters than not with all those years, beasts are still much easier and come more naturally to me. Maybe those very early years wired my brain this way hbghb

8. What's an old project idea that you've lost interest in

Oh holy fukc so many of those uuuuuuuh,, right now the one that comes to mind is this old story I had made up in middle/highschool - something about a kind of death land, a sort of limbo, and the ghost lords that 'ran' it; and the main character having to go through it to bring his love back from the dead (orpheus and eurydice inspired). And though even then I wasn't particularly optimistic about my chances of going through with it, I really wanted to make a comic of it! Obviously, never happened. I should redraw those old OCs one of these days hgbghb

Have a sneak peek of what my art (and one of my ghost lords) looked like back then. Not the full pic cuz even just sharing this lil tidbit is hurting my ego

9. What are your file name conventions

I've been meaning to change it cuz it's no longer organized enough for my taste! My file themselves don't have any fancy names, they're usually just named after their subject (like 'demoman_sketch' or 'pernelle_portrait' or 'morribel_reference' etc). Of course, no accent in the file names since that renders them unstable and makes it easier for them to get corrupted, same (to a lesser extent) with spaces, so I always use an underscore instead.

So rather than by name, my organization goes by folders: • First off I have a folder per art program (one for Photoshop, After Effects, Corel Painter, Krita, etc), each of which have two folders, 'Unfinished' and 'Finished'. The latter usually only has the PNG renders, while the Unfinished folder houses the PSD (or other) files. Sometimes I'll have a 'Done' subfolder there for the files of pieces that i've finished, but most of the time they'll hang in there in the middle of WIP files forever • And in those Un/Finished folders, I have subfolders for the subject of the art piece (one folder per fandom (like TF2, Rayman, etc), a folder for commissions, one folder per original story, etc) so I can easily find what I'm looking for.

I plan on changing my naming conventions though, keep my folders but name my files with dates at the beginning (year/month/day), then theme (fandom/story/commission, etc), and then the piece's name.

30. What piece of yours do you think is underrated

I'm... Not sure? 🤔 To be honest I post my art to share it but I don't really have expectations regarding its reception from the public... I used to! Back when I was on deviantArt. And honestly it sucked, getting legitimately upset when an art piece didn't get enough digital attention, not enough internet points. But I've grown past it years ago, so I don't really have many feelings if a piece does badly anymore. I've had OC pics get like 2 likes and nothing else and I felt fine with it ghbgh

Don't get me wrong I still want them to do well, I still want people to reblog my art, and nothing brings me more joy than comments in the tags because that's a direct reaction to my art, which always feels very personal and legitimately touches me. But not having expectations means I don't really feel disappointed as much

The last time I've had the thought 'oh i expected this to do better' was for my HLVRAI zine piece, but that's about it!