#let me out of this flesh prison 8)

[razzek]

Weird hot flash that's only on part of my face/neck AND an out of nowhere suffocating panic attack at 3am? Why, thank you, endocrine system! So very thoughtful of you! 8D

[alwaysakin]

The Vampire Diaries Universe Fic Recs

Once again putting my unhealthy amount of fanfic knowledge to good use. Here's my list (non-exhaustive) of the best vampire diaries & originals fanfics. Includes Klaroline, Bamon, Kolvina, and more.

Bamon Fics

Before I Take My Flesh Away by Orig1n - the fic where Bonnie and Damon are comically bonded, and she hops around in his timeline pre (and during) the series. Tragically unfinished, but completely incredible! Kudos for developing Stefan and Damon as brothers and making me not hate Lily Salvatore. Also love the Arthurian lore.

if you love me (don't let go) by sarcastic_fina - this is a heartbreaking deconstruction of Bonnie and her victim mentality, and shows the strength of not only her romantic relationship with Damon, but her friendships with Caroline, Matt, and Tyler. So sad, but so good!

Bloodstone by cactusfinch - Bonnie time travels to 1864 (with all the problems entailed). Her relationship with Damon is done well here, and her friendship (sort of!) with Katherine is fun as hell.

rest for the wicked (hope for the weary) by castelia - Damon and Bonnie go on a road trip together after the prison word. I am a sucker for mutual pining, and this fic does it so well!

Fifty-Five Years by turningofflights - written from Elena's perspective, after she reads Bonnie's diary entries and learns how Bonnie and Damon fell in love. A bittersweet, believable love story for Bonnie and Damon.

Other Bonnie Bennett Ship Fics

The Edge of Night by Szajnie - a crossover between season 3 of the Originals and season 7 of the Vampire Diaries, where Bonnie goes to New Orleans. She's absolutely in her element here as the most powerful New Orleans witch, takes the supernatural world by storm, and everyone has a happier ending because of it (including her!). Absolutely love her friendships with Davina, Vincent, and Freya, and shout-out for being the only fic to make me care about Cami! Truly, this is great. The NOLA gang is the family Bonnie deserves, and the Bonnie/Klaus is so believable.

Kai Parket Screwed Us (Until Bonnie Bennett Screwed Him) by hysteriaww - exactly what it sounds like. Bonnie shows up to help Josie and Lizzie deal with the prison world and her and Kai's insane relationship weirds everyone out. Deals with the Gemini Coven in a really interesting way. Hilarious, and with mild Damon and Alaric bashing. BonKai.

Season One, Epsidoes One-Three by BorgiaBabe - a rewrite of the first three episodes of TVD with Bonnie as a proper main character. Her love interest is a softer Kai, and it's great! Bonnie really deserves better.

the night light hits off, turning kisses to bites by donutworry - an insane, dark, twisted Bonnie and Kai romance, where they're the only ones in the prison world from the start. I absolutely love the Gemini Coven lore in this fic.

Klaroline Fics

Make them bow by for_darkness_shows_the_stars - Klaus appears in season 1 of the vampire diaries. it's Klaroline, but still super gen, and all the characters get their own compelling arcs in it. Especially love the way Elena and Stefan are written.

One of A Kind, Two of a Kind, or the Three Musketeers by Phandancee74 - Caroline is an ancient nymph who was erased from memory by Malivore. She still helps the Mystic Falls gang out (and her relationship with Bonnie is great)! The Klaus/Caroline is angsty and lovely.

Calling on a Friend by Phandancee74 - 5 year old Josie gets Klaus's number. Shenanigans ensue. Short and cute as hell.

Sanctuary in their Hearts by thatsanotherlovestory - Caroline leaves before the season 8 wedding, and heads to New Orleans with Klaus. A fun story, but still so sad Bonnie didn't get her happy ending in it. The twins are so cute in this.

Let's do the Time Loop again! by kcatdino - on the night of the sacrifice, both Klaus and Caroline get stuck in a time loop. It's so funny to watch them get more and more deranged.

sweet present of the present by VintageLilac - it's Caroline, not Rebekah, who raises Hope while New Orleans is at war. I absolutely love Katherine in this fic, and though Hayley gets the short end of the stick it's written quite well.

The Wolf by Yokan - a witch version of Caroline is the one pregnant with Klaus's baby in the originals. And while season 1 doesn't change a lot because of it, the later one's definitely do! I love the Klaus and Caroline relationship, and Caroline & Elijah friendship.

Elena Gilbert-Centric Fic

The stars were brightly shining by adlyb - a fic where Elena is pregnant with Klaus's baby. It's so hard to describe! A little twisted, a little sweet, and a thorough depiction of Elena's mental state.

The Forgotten by MissNMikaelson - Elena time travels and gets dropped in the middle of Klaus and Kol's war in New Orleans, circa 1914. The flashback scenes in the fic are great! Eventual Kol/Elena.

blame it on the stardust by allwritenow - the fic that looks into if Elena's doppelganger nature affected her more. And a truly beautiful Caroline, Bonnie, and Elena friendship.

Off by a Single Degree by Tarroko - when Elena's phone dies, Damon walks her home and never compels away her memories, and her parents never die. This softer, sweeter Elena is so believable, and I love the way canon immediately shifts. Amazing development of her parents, Anna, and Enzo. Delena.

Katherine Pierce Centric Fic

afflictions eclipsed by glory by passionesque - in 1864, right after the fire in Mystic Falls, Elijah finds Katherine. They team up together against Klaus. This deals with Katherine's trauma and cunning so well! A slow build to Elijah/Katherine, involving him acknowledging his faults.

General Mystic Falls Gang Fics

in another life (i would let you go) by sarcastic_fina - Elena wakes up in a world where she isn't the doppelganger and no one knows her. An interesting deconstruction of the affects she's had on her friends.. Manages to be both Elena-bashing and sympathetic at the same time. Minor Steroline and Bamon.

Originals Family Feels

It All Comes Crumbling Down by AlwaysAkin - can I do a self-rec? I'm doing a self-rec. Hope is born a century earlier, and grows up in New Orleans with the Mikaelsons. I'm particularly proud of my Hope-Marcel bond and young!Hope voice in this one.

A Twist Through Time by fandom_lover_101 - Hope is sent back in time to the Vampire Diaries season 3. She messes everything up. Absolutely love the slow Hope & Klaus relationship built here, and her friendship with Elena is cute too. Minor Klaroline, Delena, and Handon.

Always & Tomorrow by Viretta - another tragically unfinished fic. Set after Hope jumps into Malivore in Legacies, it involves the dead Mikaelsons being resurrected, and the kids from the Salvatore School travelling to New Orleans (with a newly activated tribrid Hope). This is a Mikaelson family story in the bloodiest, best way. Has Handon and Klaroline in addition to the canon originals couples.

if no one in the entire world cared about you (did you really exist at all?) by nevermore_evermore - Elijah is erased from the minds of everyone he loves. Kol is (eventually) there to help him through it. An interesting take on Elijah's place in the family.

A Million Mistakes by mon-amour-eternel - a fic where Caroline is also an original, and her and Klaus are Marcel's parents. Sadly unfinished, especially considering the rarity of Marcel-centric fic!

But Stand Brave, Life-Liver by crownjrose - A Hayley-centric fic! Her foster parents come to New Orleans and see the way her life turned out. Interesting closure for Hayley, and a sweet Klaus/Hayley relationship.

Kolvina Fic

(finally) you and me are the lucky ones by yorkes - a long one-shot where Kol and Davina are soulmates. It's cute as hell! And Kol and Davina really grow into each other in this one.

The Vixen and the Fox by BlueBooThalassophile - be warned, this read is long as hell. But it's also great. Davina time travels to the Vampire Diaries season 4, gets involved in the fight against Silas, and everything goes sideways immediately. Love Davina's friendship with Hayley and bond with Marcel in this one. Every character in both shows appears in this one.

[raineandsky]

The Villain's Housekeeper

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6) (part 7) (part 8) (part 9) (part 10) (part 11)

tw: guns, death

“Just tell me,” the superhero spits, and the villain laughs in his face.

The hero is free. The hero is free, and nothing the superhero does to the villain can change that. The villain admitted too much whilst the superhero was listening in, and they’ve rectified it. The hero will never have to see him again, and the villain will die here to make sure of it. The superhero has nothing.

“You’re such a piece of shit,” he continues, as if this is a new and particularly heartbreaking insult. “Tell me where they went.”

“Out, I’d presume.” The villain’s face twists into a snarl. “Do you really think we laid out exact plans in the middle of a prison break?”

The door squeals open behind the superhero, and he whips to the entrance with a growl before remembering himself. “What?” is the nicest tone he can manage.

“You, uh,” the guard starts uncertainly. She doesn’t look particularly happy to be the one bringing him news. “You might want to come see our… visitors.”

And with a bark of orders and a step of raw fury, the superhero is gone. The villain is left with only silence for company.

The silence only lasts for a couple of minutes. Gunfire, far off. Running footsteps. The villain swallows nervously and twists their hands testily in their cuffs.

They were prepared to die to keep the hero safe. Kind of. They wouldn’t have liked it, and they’d probably have embarrassed themself by going out crying and begging for mercy, but they would’ve died with the hero’s safety in their hands, and that’s all that would’ve mattered.

This, though. This isn’t the hero. A bullet plinks off the door loudly and the villain flinches. Gunfire sprays closer. They pull at the cuffs a little more desperately. Please, please, just break—

The door is flung open with a strong kick, smashing a hole into the opposite wall. A breath of a whimper escapes their mouth before they can think to stop it. They screw their eyes shut and wait for the feeling of the bullet searing through them. They’re trembling, but they can’t find it in their last moments to care.

There’s no feeling of metal tearing their flesh. No blinding flash of gunfire. Low voices exchange incoherent words. The villain doesn’t want to open their eyes in case the people here are cruelly waiting for them to face their killers. They can’t. They won’t.

Something touches their arm. They flinch a lot harder than they thought they could.

“[Villain],” says a familiar voice. Soft, worried. The touch on their arm solidifies into a gentle hand. “You’re safe now. You’re with us.”

The villain opens their eyes slowly, as if this is a trick they don’t trust. The hero throws them a lopsided smile, genuine and exhausted. This is definitely a trick. The hero isn’t stupid enough to come back.

That doesn’t mean the villain can take their eyes off them, though.

“Let’s get these cuffs off,” the hero continues after a moment. They set their gun on the table to root through their pocket.

“Yes, please get those things off,” says someone from the doorway. Also familiar, less tight than they recognise. “I would like to leave as soon as possible.”

The villain’s gaze snaps to the supervillain, lounging in the entrance with her own handgun pointed into the hallway beyond. The slightest hint of a smile sits at her lips, something the villain hasn’t seen in years.

The hero jabs the end of a knife into the villain’s cuffs, earning a second startled flinch. “Sorry,” they say shortly as the cuffs click open. “I don’t have the key. We’re mostly improvising.”

“You’re telling me,” the supervillain says with a huff of a laugh, and once the villain is on their feet she’s off ahead of them into the corridor.

“Are you okay?” the hero asks as they swipe the gun from the table and set off after her. “Did that bastard… do anything to you?”

Of course he did. That seems to be the superhero’s thing. They don’t want the hero to worry about them any more than they already have, though. The idiot came back.

So they give them a smile that’s blatantly, tragically forced, and simply say, “Nah.”

The hero clearly doesn’t believe that but they’ve no time to question it. The two of them follow the supervillain into the corridor. Round a corner. Up a flight of stairs. The supervillain shoots someone and the top and the villain hates that they flinch at the noise.

The main doors are so close. The three of them waste no time running across the foyer. Something clatters to the floor and the hero yelps. The supervillain and the villain turn to find the superhero behind them, an arm around the hero’s throat and a gun to their temple.

“Now,” he says. His breath is short, panting. “Let’s not be stupid here, hm? Anyone tries anything and I’ll blow their head off.”

The supervillain hesitates. The villain’s stomach clenches with familiar fear. 

The superhero smiles, blood soaked into his teeth and staining his lips. “We’re all going to be good people and allow the law to win, aren’t we?”

The hero wriggles in vain in his grip. “[Superhero], please, you’re not—”

“Shut up,” the superhero spits. “I made you. You really think you’re better than me? You gave criminals information on us, you traitor.”

His grip on them tightens, delighting in the choked gasp that tears from their throat. He’s distracted. 

The villain lurches for the supervillain, earning a surprised yelp and snatching the superhero’s attention. He turns his barrel on them but it doesn’t matter. The villain tucks the supervillain’s gun under their own chin.

“Let go of them,” they say fiercely, “or I swear to god I’ll fucking kill myself.”

The hero’s eyes are wide with horror. “[Villain], no—”

The superhero’s grip on them stops them. His own face is contorted like he’s nothing more than vaguely pissed off. “What do you think you’re doing?”

The villain’s hand is shaking. They can feel that this thing is loaded. Their finger is hovering precariously close to the trigger. “You need me,” they say like it’s obvious. “If I die, you’ll never figure out what all my paperwork says. I’ll die with all that information and you can’t do shit about it.”

The superhero scowls, kind of. It's a much more enraged expression than the villain can put a word to. His gaze flits obviously to the supervillain. “She won’t tell you shit,” the villain continues. “Less than I would, in fact.”

The superhero’s arm loosens slightly on the hero, the reality of his predicament clearly catching up to him. The hero is only looking more grieved by the second.

The villain meets their eye. They let their gaze flick down, hoping to convey a semblance of a plan, to the hero’s abandoned gun on the floor. Back up. The hero’s own gaze follows theirs, almost subdued, and nods ever-so-slightly.

Everything happens so fast. The villain tips their gun down to the superhero. He doesn’t have time to react before they set it off with a deafening clap. He shrieks as the bullet buries into his thigh. His grip on the hero loosens and they burst free from his hold. They scoop their own gun from the floor, kicking the superhero’s out of his hand. 

The supervillain leaps forward to grab the superhero's gun before he can think to snatch it back, and suddenly he’s defenceless, surrounded by three armed people who hate him more than anything in the world.

No one needs to speak to know what the plan is. The superhero’s gaze snaps up at the loud click of a magazine disappearing into the hero’s gun.

A laugh bubbles out of his throat, the sound choked on fear. “[Hero], come on,” he says softly. “You’re not a killer. You’re better than that. You’re better than them.”

The hero glances to the them they’re supposedly better than—the supervillain, paralyzed by fear, scared for herself for also for her own; she who had leapt to her feet when the hero came to her with a way to fix things. She who grieved the whole way here that she couldn’t have saved more of those she cared about so much.

And the villain. The villain, who’d had a perfect opportunity to make themself something to the supervillain and let their humanity win. Who’d let the hero stay as a cruel joke and let them leave as a survivor. Who’d threatened their own life for the hero despite their terror of what lays on the other side.

The hero is no better than them. They don’t want to be.

The gun angles at the superhero in their hands. Defeat doesn’t even seem to cross his mind. Only painfully familiar frustration. “[Hero],” he says a little harsher. “Look at what they’ve made you into. You can be so much more than this.”

The hero sets their jaw and tilts their head up defiantly. “I don't want to be anything more.”

The gunshot rings in their ears. None of them have time to watch the superhero even drop to the floor. No time to mourn—no grace to even think about him. The hero is thankful for that as they burst through the front doors and into freedom. Freedom, freedom, freedom.

The supervillain, free to really grieve her losses. A new superhero will be put in his place, of course, but she can gather the villains around her and rebuild everything she’s lost.

The villain, free of the bindings of the superhero’s torture. Without the supervillain's fears hanging over them. Without their own.

And the hero. Free to live without their puppeteer tugging the strings. Finally free to live.

(last part!)

Taglist:

@runarelle @thiefofthecrowns @morning-star-whump @epiclamer @tekanparadiae @yourslimeologist @greengrassandflowers @subval01

[badbatchposts]

Quiet Corners of the Galaxy, Ch. 25

Relevant tags/content warnings: Crosshair/Original Female Character, Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Periodic Smut, Canon-Typical Violence, Alcohol Use, 18+/Explicit

Read the full fic so far on AO3

Read previous chapters on Tumblr: Ch. 1 l Ch. 2 l Ch. 3 l Ch. 4 l Ch. 5 l Ch. 6 l Ch. 7 l Ch. 8 l Ch. 9 l Ch. 10 l Ch. 11 l Ch. 12 l Ch. 13 l Ch. 14 l Ch. 15 l Ch. 16 l Ch. 17 l Ch. 18 l Ch. 19 l Ch. 20 l Ch. 21 l Ch. 22 l Ch. 23 l Ch. 24

Chapter 25 summary: The squad copes with the discovery of the missing clones, and Crosshair learns more of Dara's backstory.

Extra content warnings for this chapter: blood/injury; grief; corpses/mass grave

Crosshair couldn’t tear his eyes away from the spot where Dara was rooted to the ground, kneeling over a pit containing the remains of the clone prisoners. He couldn’t see what she was looking at from this angle, but he knew it wouldn’t be pretty.

“I—I think you should take Omega back to the ship,” she told Hunter over the comms. “She shouldn’t see this.”

The Sergeant sighed, a tired, defeated sound. “Understood. Come on, kid—we’ll go get the Marauder for a pick-up while the rest of the squad finishes up here.”

If Omega had any objections, she wasn’t voicing them over the comm line as she and Hunter made their way through the forest in the direction of their ship. It would be a few hours before they could return with the Marauder, hopefully arriving around the time of the planet’s early sunset.

Dara still hadn’t moved. “Can the rest of you find some shovels and come to my position?” she requested weakly. “Kriffing Imperials just tossed them in the garbage pit. They didn’t even have the decency—” She cut off suddenly, clearing her throat.

“Affirmative. We’ll be there in a few minutes,” Echo let her know. Through his scope, Crosshair saw Dara finally get to her feet, staggering over to a nearby tree. She held herself propped against it for a minute, then—with a sudden violence that made him flinch—crashed her fist against the bark, over and over, until her blows steadily grew weaker and stopped. Then she was motionless again, fist still clenched, breathing heavily. Her shoulders remained tense, but her face was turned away from him—he couldn’t help but think that it felt deliberate, like she was guarding her expression from his gaze.

Tech, Echo, and Wrecker arrived just as Crosshair climbed down off the roof. Dara took one of the shovels, picked a spot a sufficient distance away, and started digging without a word as the rest of them leaned over the pit. There were bones scattered around its edges, no doubt the result of animal activity; in the pit itself, skulls, femurs, and rib cages were all easily identifiable, emerging from corpses in various states of decomposition, all mixed in with the facility’s other refuse. Wrecker lifted his helmet off for barely a second before he gagged and slammed it back on his head; Dara had pulled off her soiled poncho and wrapped a scarf from her pack around her face and nose. While Tech and Echo worked on disinterring the bodies from the pit, separating them from trash and giving the loose bones some semblance of order, Wrecker and Crosshair joined Dara and set to digging. They were silent for over an hour, interrupted only by the occasional grunt.

“Dara,” Tech called suddenly. He was standing by the pit, holding a small bone, entirely cleared of flesh. “Will you pass me your glow rod?”

She took a break from digging and dug it out of her pack, tossing it to him before returning, without comment, to her task.

Tech disappeared into the facility for a few minutes, returning with a look of grim satisfaction.

“It is just as I suspected,” he informed them. “The remains also glow in the ultraviolet spectrum. We can infer that the substance that we discovered was being tested on the clones.”

The rest of the men straightened up from their tasks and climbed out of the pit and the new grave they were in the process of digging, taking advantage of the distraction to take a few sips from their canteens and open ration bars at a distance from the stench of decay. Dara, however, didn’t even turn to look, just continued to remove dirt by the shovelful.

“So was it the chemical that killed them, or did the Empire just dispose of them when they decided they’d served their purpose?” Echo wondered darkly.

“It is difficult to tell,” Tech admitted. “So far I have not identified any injuries to the bodies consistent with violent deaths, although the advanced state of decomposition makes that challenging to determine. I have, however, scanned several samples and should be able to analyze them later to find out more.”

“How many are there?” Wrecker asked, his expression uncharacteristically grim.

Echo shook his head sadly. “Dozens. Probably everyone on the list that we found.”

As the three continued their discussion, Crosshair watched Dara, who was still digging at an incessant, even punishing pace. Sighing, he dropped back down into the wide, deep grave they’d managed to carve out of the soft earth. They had made good progress, although they still had a while to go before it would be sufficient for a burial.

Crosshair approached her cautiously, like a wild animal. His earlier avoidance no longer mattered to him, his resentment all but forgotten. There was something off about her, a palpable tension that threatened to uncoil at any moment.

“Burk’yc,” he said, as gently as he could. “Take a break.”

“I’m fine,” she muttered.

“No, you’re not,” Crosshair insisted. “At least get something to drink.”

“I said I’m fine,” Dara snapped back, finally turning to look at him for the first time all day, only to shoot him as venomous a glare as he’d ever seen from her. She dragged the back of one hand against her forehead, wiping away sweat and dirt. As she did, he caught a glimpse of her palm: a long gash leaked a trail of blood that smeared along the handle of her shovel. The skin around it was already blistered and broken, red and raw, and her knuckles where she had hit the tree were bruised and bloody.

At the sight of her injuries, Crosshair felt his stomach drop. It was obvious, from the moment she had found the pit, that she was distressed—none of them were pleased, this was a worst-case scenario for what they expected to find—but he hadn’t realized how far she would push. Somehow, against all logic, he was more worried for her safety now than he had been when she was shot. Did she even realize she was hurt? Couldn’t she feel it?

“You’re obviously not fine,” he growled, crowding closer to her and grasping at her hands. He turned them palms up, trying to get a better look past the blood and dirt. Her other hand didn’t look much better, and he winced when he noticed tiny shards of transparisteel still clinging to the skin. “Did this happen when you fell?”

Dara stared dumbly at her wounds for a moment before trying to shake him off. “It doesn’t matter.”

Crosshair only gripped her more firmly by the wrists. “This can wait. You need to—”

“I don’t need to do anything,” she interrupted, pulling away violently. “I’m fine, just— just let me keep digging.” She grabbed her shovel from where it had dropped at her feet and made to continue.

“Just stop!” Crosshair commanded, temper boiling over. “You’re not a clone. They’re not your brothers, they’re ours, so don’t pretend like it’s your job to bury them. Take a kriffing break so I can fix your hands, now!”

Dara did stop at that, fingers flexing around the handle of the shovel as she glared straight back at him. She looked like she was deciding whether to yell at Crosshair or punch him. Finally, she threw down her shovel and shoved past him, scrambling out of the hole. She grabbed her pack on her way past and stalked into the forest without a backwards glance.

Crosshair turned to where his brothers were staring down at him disapprovingly and crossed his arms.

“What?” he barked. “I was trying to be nice!”

Wrecker frowned. “Well, ya did a terrible job.”

Crosshair threw his hands up in exasperation. “I don’t know what her problem is!”

“Ah,” Tech began matter-of-factly. “It is likely that she is experiencing some acute psychological distress. Her discovery of this mass grave has, in all probability, reminded her of the Empire’s massacre of her home village.”

The others blinked at him, stunned. “Tech, how was I supposed to know about that?” Crosshair finally demanded.

Tech tilted his head. “Oh—yes. I forgot to inform you all of what I had discovered of Dara’s biography once we learned her birth name.” He cleared his throat and frowned down at his datapad as he pulled up the relevant file and began reading. “Keranji Daranjal, born on Onderon, childhood friend of Steela and Saw Gerrera. Attended university in Onderon’s capital city, where she began advanced graduate training in linguistics, specializing in non-human, primitive cultures. She has published some quite fascinating studies, in fact—”

“Get to the point, Tech,” Echo interjected.

“Ah, of course,” Tech acknowledged. “Apologies. Dara’s research was interrupted during the Clone Wars when her mentor, the linguist Palo Bragus, was gunned down by Separatist droids during a public demonstration. She then abandoned her studies to join the Gerreras in the formation of their insurgent group. After they succeeded in reinstating the former king, she left Onderon; a little over a year ago the Empire sought her out as a means to track down Saw. The village where she and the Gerreras grew up was burned down in the attempt to locate her. Many of the villagers were killed…including Dara’s only family: a brother, sister-in-law, and their two children.”

He cleared his throat again, glancing up at his brothers. “The Empire now has Keranji Daranjal listed as deceased, so I can only presume that she faked her death shortly afterward. As far as I know, Dara has never been back to Onderon. She never had the chance to bury her dead.”

There it was, then: everything Dara had built all those careful walls to protect, the origins of her rage and her grief, what Crosshair had been so eager to see exposed. A war she had fought in and survived, only for more utter violence and destruction to come when she thought it was all over. Death upon death upon death, and at the center of it all, Dara, still alive, but alone.

Her story was a lot like that of the clones, in fact. And he had somehow managed to rub it in that these weren’t even her corpses to bury. 

The men avoided eye contact. Tech and Echo had done the best they could with removing the bodies from the garbage pit and had stacked them reverently to the side of the grave, awaiting their new resting place. They joined the others as they returned to digging, though Crosshair kept glancing out towards the forest, where Dara had disappeared.

Wrecker laid a hand on his shoulder. “She’ll be alright,” he murmured.

The sun was setting and they could hear the Marauder’s approach by the time Dara returned, carrying a wide, flat stone. Though the hole they’d managed to dig was no monument to wealth, the bodies of the clones were now safely blanketed in soil, deep enough to protect them from further disturbances, animal or otherwise. The squad stood quietly by the grave as she approached and knelt, gently laying the stone at its center.

Her hands somehow managed to have gotten worse, Crosshair noticed. Still, she didn’t seem to feel the pain, only clenched her fists, rose, and went to the ship without a word. On the stone, she had painstakingly carved a one-word epitaph for the clones, the Aurebesh letters rustic and clumsy. It read:

Brothers

Tag list: @stardusthuntress @skellymom @megmegalodondon @somewhere-on-kamino @morerandombullshit @zahmaddog @flaming-dumpster

Thanks again to @cloneflo99 for the amazing banner!!!

[maddymoreau]

My Thoughts on Poppy Playtime Chapter 3

Ollie is ADORABLE!!!! "No ouchies or lost body parts?" HE'S A BABY I NEED TO PROTECT!!!!!! AHHHHHH!!!!!! (¬‿¬) I have ZERO evidence for this but my theory is he’s The Prototype.

I’m REALLY happy to see the phone Ollie calls the player on is identical to the one in Project: Playtime! It’s nice seeing stuff introduced in Project: Playtime finally appear in the main series.

( ⚆_⚆ ) ESPECIALLY DR. HARLEY SAWYER!!!! WOW THE TAPE FEATURING HIM TALKING TO THE PROTOTYPE WAS DARK!!!! I knew a man like Dr. Sawyer would be a sick and twisted individual since he created the Bigger Bodies Initiative.

Despite that I was NOT prepared to hear the joy in his voice to experiment on children. It was revolting.

This exchange:

Prototype: "You stick us. Beat us. Tear at flesh. Do you feel it?"

Dr. Sawyer: "There is a secret inside you, 1006. Valuable beyond all measure. I cut and prod and burn at it, and I get closer with each session . . . So speak, or don't. Fight, or give in. Regardless, I learn something new about you every day . . . (Laughs) It excites me!"

Prototype: "Thank you."

Dr. Sawyer: "You . . . thank me?"

Prototype: "Absolutely. I learn something new about you every day."

THAT FINAL LINE WHEN THE PROTOTYPE IS MIMICKING DR. SAWYER'S VOICE AHHHHHH!!!!

＿|￣|○ I WANNA KNOW WHAT HAPPENED TO DR. SAWYER SO BADDDDD!!!!!! He wasn’t around for The Hour of Joy but I hope he suffered.

Leith Pierre: "Normally I'd have Dr. Sawyer do this but he's uhhh . . . out, let's say. So you got me until they find his replacement."

(o ´ _ ` )o The contrast between how Dr. Sawyer speaks to the experiments VS Leith Pierre the Head of Innovation at Playtime Co.

Both dehumanize the experiments in different ways.

Leith Pierre can’t even bother remembering Catnap's real name. He puts on this fake friendly facade. Referring to Catnap as his Pal and Buddy. It's so disingenuous.

Especially when he asks, "Heya Theo! How ya doin' bud?" Pierre could care less about how Catnap feels. It's only when Catnap responds, "The Prototype will save us." That gets Pierre to finally drops the corporate spiel. Admitting to what this place is. Catnap’s prison.

No wonder Catnap worshipped The Prototype after being save when this is what he’s told about his horrific situation.

Leith Pierre: "THIS is your life now. Get used to it."

I absolutely LOVED all the new features for the Grab Pack. The air jet looked SO FUN!!!! Watching people desperately shoot the flare gun against smiling critters in a cramped space WAS SO INTENSE!!! The smiling critter's small growls and whimpers made me sad.

(ʃƪ 〃’▽’〃)♡ The horror in this chapter was INCREDIBLE!!!! While I had fun playing Chapter 2 I remember feeling disappointed by the scares.

CHAPTER THREE HAD ME HORRIFIED!!!! EVERY JUMP SCARE HAD ME FLYING OUT MY CHAIR, THE ATMOSPHERE WAS AMAZING AND AHHHHH THE HOME ORPHANAGE SECTION!!!!!

It reminded me of PT ∑(; °_°) Especially with the radio informing us that in Elliot Ludwig's house it was discovered he HAD THE BODY OF A CHILD IN A DUFFLE BAG!!?!?!?!?!?!

ALSO THAT ONE RADIO'S REVERSE MESSAGE!!!

"8-8-1995 I find your presence intrusive. After all this time you return. You come in here and yet you kill and murder. You pilate and destroy. Your presence was demanded 10 years ago and yet you didn't show up . . . 8-8-1995 You were supposed to be here. Why weren't you here? You missed the event. You missed the meeting. You missed the party. You have no right to be here . . ."

AHHHHHH MOBGAMES KNEW WHAT THEY WERE DOING WITH THE LIGHTING IN THIS SCENE!!!!!

I thought I was going to see MY BOY 😭💔!!!!!!

Huggy Wuggy is completely fine.

Kissy Missy was so sad and adorable in this chapter. Seeing her stare at the picture and hug herself BROKE MY HEART ( o̴̶̷᷄ _ o̴̶̷̥᷅ )!!! She deserves the world.

Catnap acting like a child and avoiding school 😭💔

Miss Delight was a minor spoiler I knew about since people used her face in their thumbnail. However I was NOT prepared for her to act like a Coil-Head!!!!

Theodore being described as antisocial and having a peculiar relationship with an imaginary friend _(:ì」∠)_.

That “imaginary” friend being The Prototype. Who guided Theodore to help them both escape. Only for Theodore to get electrocuted since he was just a child who didn't know how to safely use a Grabpack.

The Prototype throwing away their chance to escape to save Theodore by bringing him to the staff. Showing The Prototype does care in some way.

Only for Theodore to be later turned Catnap.

THEN the player electrocutes Catnap the SAME way Theodore originally received his injuries. The Prototype comes to “save” Theodore once again but this time by making Catnap a part of him AND CATNAP ACCEPTS SO WILLINGLY (˃ ⌑ ˂ഃ )!!!!

It felt like I was watching a religious experience.

I love Poppy Playtime but I do think they show too much in their trailers. Dog day is a great example but even then his scene was *chef kiss*

All the smiling critters crawling inside Dogday as he desperately screamed in agony and for us to run away left me speechless.

I liked the detail of Dogday calling us angel. I'm excited to see all the AUs people create where we save him.

ALSO THE HOUR OF JOY WAS A BLAST TO WATCH!!!!!

I know Poppy is right that it was just senseless slaughter. How all that death didn't fix or help anyone. Especially when it didn't matter if those killed were innocent or not.

However imagining these characters being painfully experimented on and stripped of their autonomy. Going though years of hell and finally reaching their breaking point. It's hard to not feel good for them getting to release that anger. Even if I know it's wrong.

ALSO I GOT TO SEE MY SECOND FAVORITE CHARACTER BOXY BOO YAYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!

THERE WAS SOOOOO MUCH HUGGY WUGGY IMAGERY IN THIS CHAPTER AHHHHHHHH!!!!!!

I'M GOING TO OVER THINK IT!!!!!! I HAVE NO THEORIES I’M JUST POINTING DETAILS OUT!!!!!!

When hallucinating Huggy Wuggy's face is on the employee training video:

“Join the Innovationists, where the bounds of science are continuously pushed. Or join the Counselors of Playcare, whose diligence and care for our children will help shape a brighter future, just you see.”

“Now every one of you has your part in that future, so should you come back tomorrow feeling unhappy for where you are, or what you’ve done . . . worry not, for your supervisor is here and happy to listen! And . . . should you come back . . . years later . . . your conscience finally getting the better of you. May you descend into the dark and the dust, finding all that awaits you are incomprehensible horrors . . . each hungry for your return, each eager that they might find you. Perhaps they’d smile at you from a shadow, their smiling mouths full of teeth and meat and plastic, watching and waiting patiently for their turn at a warm welcome. Or perhaps they won’t allow you such a time to figure your place in the world you’d left. A world that’s theirs now. Welcome home.”

The video transforms into a manifestation of the player's guilt. Not only for their involvement for whatever they did while working at Playtime Co. but for being gone and returning after ten years.

This is also paired with the player's possible guilt for killing Huggy Wuggy and their fear of him.

The hallucination version being a more exaggerated version of the Chapter 1 Huggy Wuggy vent chase.

When Catnap causes the player to later hallucinate:

Poppy: “Do you even know what’s real?”

Poppy: “No you don’t.”

THEN AT THE END OF THE HALLUCINATION IT SHOWS US THE DAY OF JOY!!!! Which is very odd when you consider two things. We've been told multiple times we weren’t there and during this scene we didn't know what the Hour of Joy was.

So the player hallucinating being in front of Huggy Wuggy’s podium during The Hour of Joy with a large Prototype hand reaching for us IS ODD!!!

ALSO THE TAPE IT SHOWS THAT’S WHERE HUGGY WUGGY WAS DURING THE HOUR OF JOY!!!!!!!

WHAT DOES IT MEAN?!?!?!?!

This is just speculation but perhaps the player's memories aren't as trustworthy as we think. After all we still aren't even sure who even sent us the letter or tape in Chapter 1.

"EVERYONE THINKS THE STAFF DISSAPEARED 10 YEARS AGO WE'RE STILL HERE FIND THE FLOWER"

It’s important to point out the characters from Chapter 2 made ZERO appearance during these hallucinations. Mommy Long Legs, PJ Pug-a-Pillar, Bunzo Bunny and the Wack-a-Wuggy.

Is the Huggy Wuggy imagery used because he’s who we encounter at the start of the game?

OR SOMETHING MORE AHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!

[t3acupz]

🩻🤍💉 Brownham Medwhump May 💉🤍🩻

8. Going into shock

“Place your arm through the bars, Mr. Graham, this will only take a minute.” Chilton inspected the needle which contained .50 mg of scopolamine.

Weeks of talk therapy had gotten Chilton nowhere with Will. He had received many requests for book deals for being the sole psychiatrist to the infamous Chesapeake Ripper but there was nothing to write. He scowled at the handsome man sitting in the cramped, metal cage. This should loosen those pretty lips of his.

Will rolled up his navy blue sleeve, and did as Chilton instructed. He agreed to do any form of “treatment” as long as Hannibal Lecter was not allowed anywhere near him. It was the closest thing to a restraining order he could manage within the walls of the BSHCI.

Chilton hobbled over to the cage, and hit his cane against the iron bars, eliciting a loud bang to get Will’s full attention. “Let’s begin.” He wiped Will’s veiny skin with an alcohol swab, and injected the scopolamine, or as it’s colloquially known, Devil’s Breath.

Will was standing knee-deep in the emerald stream, casting his hook out into the raging waters. He turned his head, and waved at Abigail, she smiled in return. “Catch anything?” She said, her voice echoed like they were inside a prison rather than the tranquil forest he was seeing. Will shook his head, Abigail looked down in disappointment. “But you said…” She looked down at the blood on her hands. “You said…” Her eyes turned a glowing white.

“Ỵ̛̖͋͢o̯̱̊͊͢ư̡͕̭̇’ḑ̴̞͛̒ ḳ̯͍̑ͦỉ͔͖̜͌l̙͖̑̾ͣl̙͖̑̾ͣ ḣ̖̻͛̓ỉ͔͖̜͌ḿ̬̏ͤͅ.”

Abigail let out a pained gasp as the antlers impaled her. The large black figure shook her frail, limp body until she lay motionless on top its head. With a crown of flesh, the Ravenstag snorted at Will.

“Will?” Chilton said nervously, leering at the caged man who appeared to be in a catatonic state. Will’s pupils were completely dilated, his skin was pale, almost gray.

Hannibal stood in front of him now, on the other side of the cage he was trapped in. Always trapped, always by Hannibal. “What do you want with me?!” He yelled, scrunching up his face as tears started rolling down his cheeks.

“Brown! Come here!” The frightened hospital administrator called out to the only other man in the room with them. Matthew ran over to Chilton who was now stepping backwards, away from Will Graham. “I’ve never seen this type of reaction to scopolamine before. What’s wrong with him?!” Chilton leapt behind Brown to shield himself from his own patient. “He looks possessed.”

Will was looking in Matthew’s direction but was seeing through him, his eyes fixed in an eerie thousand-yard stare. Will’s skin was clammy, his breathing was rapid and shallow. Matthew gently checked his pulse, Will didn’t seem to notice he was being touched. “He’s exhibiting symptoms of shock.”

Chilton cursed under his breath, another wasted session with Graham. “Then we have no choice but to wait it out. Brown, stay here and watch the inmate, I have other work that needs my attention.”

“But he could be like this for hours, shouldn’t we bring him to see a doctor?” Matthew replied, not taking his green eyes off Will.

Chilton rolled his eyes, and groaned, “I am a doctor, just stay here until he’s conscious again, understood?” Matthew nodded. Chilton turned around, and with each step, the cane hit the tiled floor, sending echoes through the spacious room.

Will was seeing melting clocks, each ticking around him, blasting his ears with their incessant noise.

“ꀸꋪꍏꅏ ꂵꍟ ꍏ ꉓ꒒ꂦꉓꀘ, ꅏꀤ꒒꒒.” The Stag Man spoke without moving his mouth. Will crouched on the floor, bringing his knees to his chest. Matthew slowly sat beside the cage, silently watching Will go through a waking nightmare but unable to help him.

The sun was starting to set as a beautiful golden light colored the room in amber hues. The tiny dust particles danced in the sunbeams like little fairies. Will had been rocking back and forth for half an hour, mumbling to himself about clocks and teacups. If Chilton was here he probably would have used it as some wild theory about The Ripper being an avid tea drinker but Matthew could tell that it was all symbolic. Will was stuck in a loop of themes and motifs that haunted him.

Matthew recalled the first night Will spent in his cell, he could hear him screaming in his sleep about a giant, black stag with feathers instead of fur. The ramblings of a madman, according to the head psychiatrist. Matthew tilted his head, thinking about Will’s words. Really trying to understand them instead of twisting them to suit his own agenda. The stag represented another male in his life. That was something Matthew could easily deduce.

Darkness creeped in as the last bit of sunlight disappeared beyond the horizon. Will stopped rocking and stared across the room. The full moon peeked through the window, and the shadows from the empty cages spread along the floor like long tendrils. The small hairs on the back of Matthew’s neck stood up. It was as if they were both trapped in a spider’s web.

“SEE? SEE? SEE?” Will frantically shouted, reaching his hand through the bars and pointing right behind Matthew. He looked so convinced there was someone else there that Matthew glanced behind his shoulder, and for a split second he could see him — A tall, black, inhuman creature with antlers and glowing white eyes. Matthew blinked and he was gone.

Will slumped back in his chair, and let out a long, deep breath, as if something was finally released from his body.

“Where am I?” Will was shaking, his eyes darted around the room until they landed on Matthew.

“At the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane.” Matthew answered, unlocking the door to the small cage.

Will cautiously stepped out like an injured animal that was getting released back into the wild, unable to fully leap into the arms of freedom. He rubbed his temples, “Did you see it too?”

Matthew thought for a moment about which answer would give Will a greater peace of mind. The older man looked into Matthew’s eyes in quiet desperation, waiting with bated breath for the young orderly’s reply.

“Folie à deux,” Matthew said, twisting his mouth into a feline smile at the trembling inmate. Will didn’t say anything. He put both arms behind his back, and let Matthew handcuff him. Neither of them said a word as Matthew escorted Will through the empty corridors back to his cell.

“Don’t tell Chilton.” Will whispered, grabbing Matthew’s wrist as the young man was about to walk away. “Hannibal… His name is Hannibal Lecter.”

Matthew’s eyes widened, and he felt like his heart was being squeezed by an invisible chain. Him.

Will released his grasp on the orderly, and sunk back into the darkness of his cell. Finally, someone believed him.

[that-one-kiddo-in-the-back]

This video is about Star Wars... apparently.

Once again, if you don't know me, I'm what Lily would refer to as a Star Wars weeb. I live, breathe, and shit Star Wars. You got it? Good. Let's dig in.

Now, this can't be a Lily Orchard video without her complaining about the thing she claims to love. Now, I have my own problems with the sequel series, mostly that I found it boring and a wasted opportunity to do something a bit different and interesting and felt that they pushed a black man to make room for a white woman. Hell, my siblings even told me that for a week, it was just none stop complaining about Disney owning Star Wars I think the only reason I started to go a bit easy and shut up was when star wars rebels came out but I'll get into my own acceptance of Disney canon in a separate post.

To her credit, she talks about how universal Star Wars is, how it has something for everyone, and if you're someone like me a shit ton of stuff to take all of the money from your account but now we come to Lily not understanding how things work.

She goes into a rant about how streaming services are killing movies and just regularly TV watching, which is true, yes. She's uses Matt Damon's views on streaming she then talks about her all-time favorite movie and the reason she pushes for low stakes storytelling from that time period called John Q. From 2002 which if you don't know, it's about a father who holds a hospital hostage at Gun Point to get them to help his son, who needs a life-threatening heart surgery.

Despite the title, this video has nothing to do with Star Wars. it's more about streaming services with a spit of Star Wars. From 8:37 to 14:48 is nothing about Star Wars and all about streaming and low stakes over high stakes. Despite that, I would argue that John Q, while being more a personal movie of a father desperate to save his son, is a high stakes situation. High stakes storytelling isn't just "The fate of the universe is at risk," and low stakes storytelling isn't just personal drama. John Q stakes are pretty high with taking an emergency hospital hostage where everyone could die if not treated, and the best case scenario for the main character is his son getting treatment while he goes to prison and the worst case being he dies with his son. I hate to break it to you Lily but the movie you say is your all time favorite is a fucking high stakes movie.

Finally, getting back to fucking Star wars. She brings up how Star Wars is a pretty low stakes series simply because of how the story is overshadowed by the family drama that is the Skywalker family, which is turn. I would say that Star Wars can be pretty low stakes, but I wouldn't stay that it is. She talks about clone wars, the "patron saint of the annoying darkness obsessed Fanboys" (A.K.A me) has plenty of episodes of that dig deep into the rot and corruption of the republic and the jedi order but that those are dwarfed by the focus of Anakin and Ahsoka's relationship pointing out that that episode was the series most hard hitting to the fans which is true anyone who watched that episode can tell you they cried their eyes out but that's mostly because that really left an impact on Anakin and one could argue is that's what really made him question the order and when you go back to watch Anakin's descent it makes it all the more heart breaking.

We all know Lily hates serialized TV that's no secret or surprise she'd much rather watch a sitcom over anything else, but the thing is, but she treats serialized shows as moldy bread using the Ahsoka show as an example of losing characters and losing moments for the story to breathe and the fun episodes that do nothing but flesh out a character never mind the fact that Ahsoka and Sabine don't need to have their character fleshed out we already saw that in rebels for Sabine and CW for Ahsoka. I find it kinda funny that she doesn't like the Ahsoka show when that was the lowest stakes show she could ask for a teacher and a student getting back together to help find Ezra while 2 dark side users are also trying to find him so they can find Thrawn hell she even has some lesbians to obsess over but they focus on the force for to long and has too many samurai references dispirit the fact that...

The Jedi are basically samurai!

The jedi takes inspiration from monks and Samurais, so no Lily. Dave filoni isn't some secret Weeb. Blame Lucas if you have to

Something I found interesting is Lily using M*A*S*H and other sitcoms saying they have some depth to them, but we her critics can't see that past the laugh track saying how her favorite All in the Family did a good job talking about drag queens while taking a dump on Rocky horror for their drag queens. Now I haven't seen all in the family or Rocky horror (and I don't plan to), but I have seen M*A*S*H, which is a good sitcom it's pretty funny and a prime example of "laughter is the best medicine" or "if you don't laugh, you'll cry." If you don't know what M*A*S*H is, it's a 70s (1972 to 1983) sitcom that takes place in a medical tent during the Korean War with most of the episodes being about the main group of characters trying to go home but whacky hijinks get in the way the show is all dark humor. Little fun fact if you didn't fall asleep during history class, M*A*S*H was made three years before the Vietnam War had ended, so people didn't care for it until 1974 and you don't have to he a genius to know why it's loved now.

Lily’s main problem with Star Wars is that she's living in the past and won't move forward, and she can't expect that not everyone likes what she likes. Sure, Solo was a flop, but there are still some people who like it.

There is no such thing as peak fiction also applies to Lily herself.

She missed an opportunity to use avatar

[klbwriting]

Who Am I Really?

Chapter 8

Fandom: Aquman

Pairing: Ormxfemale!Reader

Warnings: some violence

Summary: Artrax finds Orm and help comes from an unexpected place

Orm had a bad feeling as he helped YN clean up after dinner. She was trying to be cheery, act like nothing would change but considering everything that he had just learned, everything was about to change. He dried dishes while she put them away and he didn’t realize until he heard the shatter that she dropped a dish. He turned, setting the glass he was holding down only to see YN, hands held up, staring at the doorway, terror in her eyes. He looked at the door and saw an Atlantean soldier. He entered the home, followed by three more, finally Artrax entered, pulling Arthur’s bound body with him. Orm jumped in front of YN, shielding her as much as he could.

“Greetings your majesty, it has been a long time,” Artrax said casually, dropping the groaning Arthur on the ground. Orm’s eyes darted around the room, trying to figure out how he could take down the five enemies in the room without harming Arthur or YN, but he couldn’t see how it was possible if he fought. He would have to be civil until an opportunity presented itself.

“Artrax?” he said, like he was surprised. Artrax shook his head.

“Don’t try to be stupid, I know that the king has been hiding you here, helped you to escape your punishment for killing my son,” the noble said. Orm took a breath, pointing behind him. YN took his hand, so he knew she understood. He wanted her in the bedroom, it at least put a wall between her and the danger here. He couldn’t think straight with her out there, weapons pointed at her. She started to back up slowly but froze when one of the soldiers pointed his weapon at her. Orm moved, once again putting himself in front of her. Artrax smiled.

“Please, just let her go to another room,” Orm said, the hitch in his voice betraying how much she mattered to him.

“O no, the lady should stay, learn who you really are,” Artrax said.

“He told me who he was, he has shown me he is not that man anymore,” she said, shooting a glare at the noble. “He has done some horrible things, but he’s not that person now and he is atoning.”

“Atoning? How can you atone for taking a life? How can you expect redemption when you have taken the breath out of a person’s body? He can say he is different; he can claim redemption but it's not true. The only way for him to be redeemed is to pay for what he’s done with his flesh,” Artrax said, producing a dagger. Orm looked from him to Arthur.

“You can’t threaten the king of Atlantis, that’s treason, you would never be able to go back again. Neither would your men. You all see that right? I was in a deserter prison for four years because of the treason I committed. You don’t want to be there. They take pieces of you…they eat them in front of you,” Orm said. YN saw a haunted look cross his face for a moment before he came back to the present. The Atlantean soldiers seemed to consider this, and lowered their weapons just enough for YN to run. She slammed and locked the bedroom door and opened the window. She knew she had to get away, find help, and she had a plan.

“Find her you idiots! None of us will get charged with treason if you just listen to me,” Artrax demanded. Two of the soldiers kicked the bedroom door down and went inside. One came out and said that YN was gone. Orm felt himself relax just a little as the two left to search for her. His odds had just risen considerably. He stood a little straighter, feeling more confident now. Just had to talk a little longer.

“So what’s your plan after this? You what, kill me and then think Arthur hails you a hero when you get back?” he asked. Artrax laughed.

“Do you think either of you are surviving today?” he said. “This is simple, you were enraged we found you, at your brother for failing you. You fought, the king was tragically killed in the crossfire, taken down by his own brother. I go home the hero and you and Arthur rot at the bottom of the lake.” Orm noticed the other soldiers shift nervously out of the corner of his eye. Clearly this wasn’t in their plans.

“And do you think these men will keep that secret? I mean…they look nervous to me,” he said. Artrax was nearly foaming at the mouth, clearly wanting nothing more than to rile Orm again. Once YN had left Orm had changed. Artrax knew this, he could see the former king’s head held up higher, the arrogance was back in his eyes. Arthur wasn’t the key to making him crumble, that fucking woman was, and now she was gone. This wasn’t going the way he planned. Fine, new plan. He pulled a weapon from a side holster and shot the two soldiers in their water masks. Orm was going to help them, but Artrax held the weapon to Arthur’s head. Orm froze. Alright, his assumptions about Artrax being reasonable were out the window. New strategy.

“Well then, how about this. You come with me, I’ll bring the king, alive for the time being, the other two come back…” he stopped speaking and suddenly disappeared out the door, dropping the dagger and his energy ray as he went. Orm ran outside and saw Artrax, then the person who was holding him in the air. He was also holding the other two soldiers in the other hand. YN was on the beach looking up at the sight with a smile.

“I will be right back,” the flying man said before turning and shooting off towards the ocean.

“Who is that?” Orm asked, pointing. YN laughed.

“My cousin Lois, her fiancé is kind of a metahuman, Superman. Met him at their engagement party, very kind. Told me if I needed help to just call out for him. Never had to before though,” she said. She folded her arms. “Now, is your brother still unconscious? Superman said he would drop them on some mountain in Europe, but they’ll get back here eventually, and I think its about time we made a plan,” she said. Orm stared at her for a moment before pulling her in, kissing her deeply. He lifted her and she wrapped her body around him. Arthur came stumbling out of the house.

“What happened?” he asked. They paid him no attention. He groaned. “Hey, detach for a minute.” He walked over and plucked YN out of Orm’s arms. Orm took a swing at him, but he deflected it easily, putting her down. “Come on guys, I just woke up after being attacked and I need to know how much shit we’re in.”

“We will all be fine, you just have a job to do,” YN said. Arthur looked confused, and then was even more baffled when Superman landed next to him.

“What’s tights doing here?” he asked. Clark chuckled and put an arm around the confused king.

“Come inside and I’ll explain,” YN said, leading them into her home for some tea and a plan.

[towerartt]

Handsome Jack 8, 12 ❤️‼️

ouhhh so sorry this took me so long to answer...

8. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you despise?

I’ll tell you if you promise not to get mad at me💔

A big chunk of the fandom wrongly views him as the Capitalism Incarnated, while he is quite obviously simply a product of the psychopathy breeding system. Jack’s psychopathy is a reaction to a crime that is uniquely capitalistic. Angel’s kidnapping is a crime of greed. He is, as every Borderlands character, uniquely traumatised by the world he was born into. Borderlands shows what capitalism does to men. Jack is not much different from the psychos/bandits of Pandora. For both, the planet is a prison. Psychos choose to assimilate, and Jack chooses to destroy it. He is the universal threat; neither the poor Pandorians nor the elite are safe from him. 

But does the distinction matter? I believe so. This affects the narrative as a whole. 

We can choose to see Jack as Capitalism, and we get to kill him, and then we all go out for milkshakes. Simple and up-lifting, and very American. But to me, Borderlands is largely pessimistic. Honest people die, the leaders are either cowardly or evil, and the oppressed are often gross, stupid, and difficult to sympathise with. And we cannot kill capitalism, so we kill a scapegoat in its place. The world of Borderlands is fixed: Jack’s death does not affect the status quo; it only frees the tyrant spot for the new, yet-to-come aggressor. This is less satisfying, isn’t it.

(Possibly I am overanalysing a silly shooter game that isn't concerned with a critique of capitalism/colonialism deeper than a simple and straightforward “It is very bad.”)

And despise is a strong word. Interpret him however you want. What I truly despise is haters going "Why are you Jack's apologist?" because he activates my maternal instincts! Next question.

+ personal nitpick. The "Is he/is he not a tragic hero" debate. Girls NONE of you are using the same definition of neither hero nor tragic. I hope a huge asteroid takes out all of us.

12. What's a headcanon you have for this character?

I have soo many so I'll just drop a few here that I haven't talked about before mkay <3

Uncharacteristically (and unsurprisingly) squeamish about burnt flesh. Nisha once brought him a scorched hand after some village burning (it looked kinda funny she thought it would make him laugh how was she suppose to know he is so goddamn sensitive) and he started gagging when she dropped it on his desk. When she gets really mad at him, she dumps some burnt remains at his apartment (she loves him dearly btw)

He journals a lot. Partially because, in his opinion, it is a very Great Leader activity, but also because Angel cannot pry into what he has written down on the pages. He knows this deeply annoys her. She can see everything, and she knows everything except for her father's thoughts. Sometimes Jack makes Angel echo him and patiently wait while he finishes his entry to really rub it in. He sometimes draws her.

I hope this is comprehensible. Part of Jack’s mythos being that he only has scars on his front, kinda like Alexander the Great, because a real hero always bravely faces his enemies. But actually, his back is a mess of scars from childhood. Wouldn’t that be fucked up?? All his fanatics are like "Erm, Jack would never ever let anybody get him from behind because he is SUPER cool and smart, and he never runs away from a fight <33" I think this would add to his inferiority complex.

Thank you for this ask💕 Ouhhh I love talking about this guy

[fatteningmenstories]

At your service Chapter 8

Part 2

At first he had tried to fight the machine, but his struggles proved fruitless these attempts soon thistled out, worsened by his growing hunger, even as he ate more and more his appetite never ceased to grow he was trapped by it. He hankered to be fed, it wasn’t long till he felt like an eating machine, it was his sole purpose the hours and hours of chocolate broke him he submitted to the machines ready to eat and stuff his face.

And so as he ate more and more he continued to blossom in size, he was becoming fatter and fatter by the day and he was powerless to it, he felt his bum grow in size as he sat on it day in and day out, his limb were becoming heavier and heavier weighing him down on the sides , and of course there was his gut. What 6 pac abs once occupied now was a the site of his ever growing gut. It knew no boundaries and showed now restraints, Alex couldn’t even see around, if it wasn’t for its pressing weight on his thighs and legs he wouldn’t even know they were there. Every day it seemed to be growing always bloated and constantly rising pushing his man tits higher and higher until they were crushing against his neck - it was his prison within his prison.

New features had to be constantly installed to the people mover to accommodate Alex’s growing weight, platforms installed to keep his gut from crushing his legs but even these were buckling. Alex’s body showed no signs of slowing down and his people movie built to withstand up to 700lbs was soon struggling to match its host weight just kept rising but alas as it slowed down and needed for maintenance Alex simply paid it not attention - instead he was more invested in the food heading towards him.

“Why why why - my boy look at how you’ve grown’ Mr Gordo bellowed as he approached the mass of flesh in the chocolate room

Alex could barely respond he was too engrossed in his food to respond, his time in the people mover had drained him all he cared about was food and keeping his stomach full

‘My my, the research these last hundred of pounds have provided has been marvellous by dear boy’

Alex only grunted in response to busy to even care

“And it looks with you finally entering 4 figures we are gonna need to upgrade that chair of yours’

4 figures !! - What how was this possible, the thought of continuing his meal grew sour on him, 1000lbs pounds - could he even move

“Not to worry, my dear boy, look’ve what I’ve brought you’

Alex stained his head as much as his fat neck could let him, as Adam rolled out the new people mover - It was massive - was he really that big

‘Now don’t worry my boy, I know those tubby little legs of yous are no use to you now and Im sure you won’t be running of would you now’

Chuckled Mr Gordo as Alex’s restraints were turned down

With a Whoosh!!, the iron belt retreated and Alex felt his hundreds of pounds of fat be free, and to his dismay Mr Gordo was right he could barely move weighed down by the seer mass of his own body he was immobile

“ Ahh looks like this not so little piggy has finally bitten off more than he can chew - huh my boy. Adam !!help our subject to his new device’

How could he continue like this, he couldn’t let Mr Gordo win, this was his chance to end this gluttonous madness - and he had to seize it

“Chocolate’ he grunted

“What’s was that my dear pig’

“Chocolate’ Alex let out trying to heave his stubby arm to point to the brown oozing lake

‘Ah I see seems like someone hasn’t learnt their lesson- but so be it, here let me pig’
Mr Gordo willingly acted, marvelled in this opportunity to push his fattened pig into the lake once again.

With Adam in one hand and Mr Gordo in the other, the towering mass of fat that was Alex was slowly rolled and pushed to the chocolate. Adam of course doing most go the heavy lifting to heave Alex gigantic body to the lake while Mr Gordo stroked and prodded the layers of Alex

“Here you are my boy - drink up’ My Gordo said instruction Adam to drop Alex to the floor

And as he was laid on the edge in arms r each for chocolate Alex and to fight ever urge in his body to drink up the dark tempting chocolate that had lead to down this pathway of immobility instead he grunted as tried with all his might to use all of his energy to roll his behemoth body to the side tripping an unexpected Mr Gordo straight in, and as he laid there panting and his side unable to move the sound of Mr Gordo struggling in the chocolate lake was music to his ears

‘AHHHHHHH’

‘My boy - ahh You’re gonna pay this to fat waste of space - get me out of here!!!’

“Ada….’

But as My Gordo went to call for Adam’s help, he was met with the deep dark chocolate of his own creation, it was just so good - having never been granted access to this from Unit, he had no resistance to its deep heavy taste. He couldn’t help himself, he swelled more and more, with each mouthful only making him crave it more and more, he drank more and more while his body grew heavier and heavier. But he couldn’t break the cycle to call for Adam, he was too distracted by the chocolate - he didn’t notice his limbs growing weaker and weaker or how his legs couldn’t hold him up for much longer, until it was to late.

And as Alex heard the splattering sound die out to the empty hum of the chocolate room he knew it was over. But he too was stuck, under the thousands pounds of fat stuck to his body, he couldn’t wiggle himself out of it - how long could he last like this, the weight if of all his fat was crushing down on him and he could barely breath.

“Adam ‘ he yelled in his final breath as it all went dark.

He didn’t wake as Adam pulled his heavy body of the ground, or when Adam placed him in his new mover neither when Adam gave him the kiss of life, but when the smell of chocolate entered his nose and the taste of chocolate entered his mouth - Alex gasped to life to see Adam feeding him one last time

‘Alex you’ve alive !!” Gasped Adam hugging the mountain of a man

“Adam you’ve back’ Alec couldn’t tell whether he was happier about the taste of chocolate in his mouth of the fact Adam was back

‘From my records, it appears Mr Gordo had some control over me for approximately 7 months and 2 days and 4 minutes’

“You’ve losing me’

“Let me how ……. do I say cut this short…. when Mr Gordo was ….how do I saw disposed of - his connection and control over me was severed’

“So you back’

“Im more than the back and look at you it seems I have a lot of you to catch up on’ Adam asserted towering over the 1000 lbs of Adam

“You certainly do’ Alex couldn’t help but smirk as he Adam took in all of him only distracted by the sound of his stomach growling food food

“Adam you wouldn’t happen to be able to get lunch ready - I just haven’t eaten anything in a hour or so’

“Happily, I am after all at your service”

The end

[needcake]

@hetaberia-week

Day 8: extra

.

.

1588,

Madrid

No bad news ever came unaccompanied.

“Let me through,” he ordered at first, pushing against the barrier of servants, nurses and surgeons trying to keep him from entering the room, hands on his arms and shoulders, telling him their young Lord had just undergone extensive surgery, he needed to recover, he needed rest, he needed – “Let me through!”

A path opened, their voices fading into silence in face of Portugal’s ire and he crossed the threshold in hard stomps, locking the doors behind himself.

“You scare them,” came a frail voice from the bed, weak and flickering like the candlelight on his bedside table. Spain was a ghost against the pillows, his face ashen and pale, forehead feverish to the touch of Portugal’s hand, eyes unfocused. The mattress dipped under Portugal’s weight as he sat on the edge, and Spain attempted a smile that came out too shaky.

“England did this to you?”

He shook his head, stubbornly. “There was a storm,” he licked his lips, blinking slowly, “the men got confused, the English kept firing at us. If we could’ve boarded them, I would’ve won.” He coughed and Portugal helped him to a glass of water, holding it steady against his lips as he took small sips. “He’s coming for you next,” Spain said, turning his eyes to the pamphlets on his bedside table, jutting his chin at them for Portugal to take a look.

He put the glass of water down and gingerly took the pamphlets in his hands, his frown deepening as he flipped through the pages.

“He’s negotiating an alliance with the Ottomans,“ Spain said, and Portugal abandoned the printed lines of English excuses for stealing his people’s grain and supplies from Lisbon’s harbors justifying it as a just cause in their conflict against Spain and looked directly into Spain’s weakened but resolute olive green eyes, seeing the Turk smirking in the corner of his Moroccan prison cell, his stupid mask glinting in the dark. “Morocco too, he’s been trading freely with her, sending ambassadors—”

“Yes, I already know about that,” Portugal cut him off dryly, looking down at the pamphlets in his hands. He had known England had been dealing with Morocco behind his back, but the Ottoman Turks. That hurt more, cut deep into his flesh, stung like the devil. He could feel Spain’s eyes on him, but didn’t dare look up when his chin trembled so and his eyes watered with angry tears.

A cold hand was laid gently on top of his trembling fist still holding the pamphlets, crinkling the pages. At this he did look up, finding Spain’s eyes so much softer than he expected.

And here he felt it again, the strange urge to pull his injured body in his arms, the pull of kinship on the bottom of his stomach too strong to resist this time, and when he opened his arms, Spain came all too easily, bandaged arms circling his torso and face pressed into his clavicle, allowing Portugal to embrace his shoulders, mindful of the bruises, careful when he tucked him under his chin.

“We’ll show them,” Spain mumbled into his doublet, “We’ll make them pay,” he said, his hoarse voice vibrating with anger, but all it did was make Portugal press his eyes tighter, trying to keep himself from crying harder. I’m sorry, he wanted to tell him, but didn’t, cradling his soft hair in his palm, hiding in the crook of his neck, I’m sorry. I’m sorry that you’ll never be a boy again after this, that once he left this bed Spain would be forever changed.

No bad news ever came unaccompanied.

---

After the defeat of the Spanish Armada in 1588, the English poured all their resources into a counter-attack the following year aiming to “liberate” Portugal and install António, Prior of Crato, as its King. They blockaded Lisbon’s harbors and confiscated their grains and supplies, which were carried by ships from the Hanseatic League that had nothing to do with the conflict. To justify their actions, the English issued pamphlets explaining their position, which you can read here. This resulted in the Portuguese population rejecting this liberation and the English Armada of 1589 also ended in failure, nearly bankrupting Elizabeth I. Concomitantly, the English, isolated as a Protestant nation amongst Catholic neighbors, sought out Islamic allies in Morocco and the Ottoman Empire, which further angered Spain and Portugal.

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

Marriage and its Challenges

1 In the same way, let me say a word to the women. You should be subject to your husbands, so that if there should be some who disobey the word, they may be won, without a word, through the behavior of their wives, 2 as they notice you conducting yourselves with reverence and purity. 3 The beauty you should strive for ought not to be the external sort—elaborate hairdressing, gold trinkets, fine clothes! 4 Rather, true beauty is the secret beauty of the heart, of a sincere, gentle and quiet spirit. That is very precious to God. 5 That is how the holy women of old, who hoped in God, used to make themselves beautiful in submission to their husbands. 6 Take Sarah, for instance, who obeyed Abraham and called him “Master.” You are her children if you do good and have no fear of intimidation.

7 You men, in the same way, think out how to live with your wives. Yes, they are physically weaker than you, but they deserve full respect. They are heirs of the grace of life, just the same as you. That way nothing will obstruct your prayers.

The New Way of Life

8 The aim of this is for you all to be like-minded, sympathetic and loving to one another, tender-hearted and humble. 9 Don’t repay evil for evil, or slander for slander, but rather say a blessing. This is what you were called to, so that you may inherit a blessing.

10 For the one who wants to love life and see good days should guard the tongue from evil, and the lips from speaking deceit; 11 should turn away from evil and do good; should seek peace, and follow after it. 12 For the Lord’s eyes are upon the righteous, and his ears are open to their prayer, but the face of the Lord is against those who do evil.

13 Who is there, then, to harm you if you are eager to do what is right? 14 But if you do suffer because of your righteous behavior, God’s blessing is upon you! “Don’t fear what they fear; don’t be disturbed.” 15 Sanctify the Messiah as Lord in your hearts, and always be ready to make a reply to anyone who asks you to explain the hope that is in you. 16 Do it, though, with gentleness and respect. Hold on to a good conscience, so that when people revile your good behavior in the Messiah they may be ashamed.

Suffering for Doing Right

17 It’s better to suffer for good conduct (if God so wills it) than for bad. 18 For the Messiah, too, suffered once for sins, the just for the unjust, so that he might bring you to God. He was put to death in the flesh, but made alive by the spirit. 19 In the spirit, too, he went and made the proclamation to the spirits in prison 20 who had earlier on been disobedient during the days of Noah, when God waited in patience. Noah built the ark, in which a few people, eight in fact, were rescued through water. 21 That functions as a signpost for you, pointing to baptism, which now rescues you—not by washing away fleshly pollution, but by the appeal to God of a good conscience, through the resurrection of Jesus the Messiah. 22 He has gone into heaven and is at God’s right hand, with angels, authorities and powers subject to him. — 1 Peter 3 | New Testament for Everyone (NTFE) Scripture quotations from The New Testament for Everyone are copyright © Nicholas Thomas Wright 2011, 2018, 2019. Cross References: Genesis 6:3; Genesis 18:12; Genesis 42:25; Psalm 33:18; Psalm 34:12,13 and 14; Proverbs 3:25; Proverbs 12:21; Proverbs 15:28; Isaiah 3:18; Daniel 6:4; Matthew 5:5; Matthew 28:18; John 16:10; Acts 18:21; Romans 12:16; 1 Corinthians 7:16; Ephesians 5:25; Ephesians 5:33; Titus 3:5; 1 Peter 1:3

[obsidiancreates]

One Undead To Another (Chapter 8)

(Shorter one, trying to ease back into a tone a little closer to the show, hopefully the humor lands lol)

“I’m not sure Shawn going to jail is a good idea.”

“I know O’Hara, but even though you like him–”

“Not that, well, not just that. Closed quarters with people he’s arrested? Even if he’s… even if they can’t hurt him now, they can get hurt and bleed.”

“And?”

“And, he might kill someone again in the prison!”

“So he’ll take out some lowlife scum from inside! Better than him potentially taking someone good out out here.”

“That is… just an awful way to look at this, Carlton. You and I both know there are people with wrongful convictions stuck in there–”

“Barely.”

“-- and, what would that do to Shawn? I mean, have you ever seen him this… lost?”

Lassiter turns to look her in the eyes. “O’Hara. Who do you think would be right at the top of his potential victims list?”

“What?”

“It’ll be close friends, family, and colleagues.That’s not just Guster, that’s not just me, that’s you.”

“He wouldn’t hurt me.”

“He’s a vampire! Don’t turn this into some teen romance novel, you’re a target! Spencer even agrees with me on this one!”

“Uh, actually Lassie–”

They both scream and draw their guns, startling Shawn into holding his hands up again. Jules lowers her gun and puts her hand to her chest (and ignores the way Shawn follows the movement, stares at her chest, her heart, her blood under her flesh). 

“Jes–”

“Ah!” Gus interrupts Lassiter’s expletive. “I think we should all avoid saying the names of religious icons and figures as much as possible around Shawn. Just in case.”

“Oh, thanks, buddy, I didn’t even think of that. But um, sorry for scaring you, Lassie.”

“You see that, O’Hara? Silent movement, you won’t even know he’s on you until it's too late. Spencer, hold out your hands.”

“About that, Lassie.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Afraid not– the uh, the spirits, have… told me that’s not the right move.”

“The spirits.”

“Lassie, we literally saw dozens of ghosts when we rescued Shawn. You can’t still be doubting him. Mary told us he’s for real!”

“Also a weird crystal thing.” Shawn rubs his right palm with his left thumb. “But that’s, neither here nor there. I received several visions of what would happen if I got arrested, and none of them were good. Well, they were good in a horror movie sort of way, but… not an events-we-want-to-actually-happen sort of way.”

“Describing yourself as a horror movie isn’t helping your case here, Spencer.”

“Look, according to my visions, if I get locked up I won’t be able to help on cases anymore and The Spirits are insisting that not happen! I need to be out here, solving cases, getting justice!”

“Great. Let’s start with getting justice for the guy in your living room who doesn’t have any blood anymore.”

“Lassie–”

“Spencer. Shut your trap, and listen to me. Can you honestly say, without a shadow of a doubt, that any of us are not on the menu for you?”

Shawn opens his mouth… and hesitates, just a beat.

“That’s what I thought.” Lassiter stands and goes to slap the cuffs on.

“Lassie, what’s worse? A sane vampire who you can keep a personal eye on at all times, or an insane vampire who you have to rely on other people to handle?!”

Lassiter pauses. 

“Think about it, Lassie. You know me way better than some random prison or mental facility guards. You know how I work. And, you know I’m actually a vampire and a psychic– if the guards wherever I get sent don’t believe either of those, how will they be able to actually keep an eye on me? Plus, you think they have your skills? Man, you already fought vampires, and won! You know you can handle me, especially me!”

Lassiter is lowering the cuffs. 

“Plus, what’s a common theme in vampire or monster media, huh? Power of love, man! Isolation will just drive me away from humanity, every single story about this kind of situation proves it! Having a large support group will keep me out of the darkness, literally and metaphorically.”

Lassiter’s mouth twists. “Look Spencer, I agree that out of everyone I believe I could best take you down if you got out of line–”

“And I wouldn’t mind that, might even enjoy it.”

“– but, you killed someone. I can’t let you just get away with that.”

“So don’t!”

“What, am I supposed to just keep an eye on your twenty-four seven?”

“No, but– come on, Lassie, work with me! What do I have to do for you to feel satisfied with me not going to jail and going all Lost Boys after a few years?”

“... How often will you need blood?”

“I– Lassie, I didn’t exactly get a handbook for this, and you kind of killed the only people who could write one. Not that I’m mad about it! I’m remembering bits and pieces now and you and Jules were seriously sexy fighting like that.”

“Well can’t you divine what you’ll need?”

“It doesn’t work like that, Lassie.”

“Mary even confirmed that for us,” Jules pipes in. “He said whatever Shawn gets is at the whims of the universe.”

“He did? … That’s awesome. I’m using that, for sure.”

“... No cases.” Lassiter puts his cuffs away. “No cases, no leaving this apartment, and no talking with O’Hara until we figure out how often you need blood and how much.”

“Lassie. The isolation is why I can’t be put away, remember? I’m not– I’m not super stoked about this either, man, you think I’m not freaking out? I– I killed a guy, I didn’t even… I don’t want, to be a danger to you guys. But my vision was clear, it’s… the only way. I have to stay free.”

“... Fine. You can go between here and your office, but I’ll be the one driving you to keep an eye on you. Guster, I want crosses and any other vampire nonsense you know about at every exit so he can’t leave until he’s allowed to.”

“You wanna trap me inside our tiny office with a vampire?!”

“Dude! I thought you had confidence in me here!”

“I do! But you keep looking at my neck!”

“I do?”

“Yeah!”

“Are you sure? I don’t think I am. I think you’re imagining that.”

“You don’t even remember what happened tonight, you can’t trust your own perception right now!”

Shawn physically steps back at that one. It’s like Gus just shoved him and spit in his face, but the way his expression falls isn’t angry, or offended, it’s just… hurt. “... I guess you’re right,” he mumbles.

Gus takes a deep breath, his own expression falling with guilt, but before he can say anything Lassiter jumps back in.

“Blocking off exits, a guard while going from place to place, and I want Guster noting every behavior shift you have. If this gets worse, I’m arresting you, Spirits or no.”

“Okay. It’s… more than fair, for what I’m asking of you.” Shawn looks out at the doorway separating them and the living room. “Now uh… about that.” 

“I am not disposing of a body for you.”

“I don’t expect you to, Lassie. … Jules? Gus?”

“Shawn, I’m already at my limit with my own morals here.” Jules sighs deeply. “I don’t want you arrested either, but I don’t think I can help cover this up in such an active capacity.”

“... Gus?”

“If I touch that body, I’m going to throw up again.”

“... Great. So I have to become a murder victim, a killer, and a coverer-upper in the same night. Why is he the one throwing up out of stress?”

[tragedycoded]

What would Sullivan have done if his and Royston's roles had been reversed and he saw the shadow in the cell?

OMG Wyked hi! Thank you for the ask!

Joke answer: How far back are we reversing their roles?

Actual answer under the cut bc spoilers etc.

I want to call attention to a few conditions for the sake of showing my work:

Sullivan never would have pushed Royston off the train to get them in that situation to begin with. He would have tried to fight the Hustons. That's a reset. [1]

Royston would never enlist, let alone stay in long enough to reach Sullivan's rank. At most he'd be in Private Mitchell's spot LOL. Or Martin's.

Sullivan, for whatever reason, is resistant to spirit influence. [2]

So I'm vaping a scenario where Sullivan was in the stockade the same night as Martin.

Let's say Sullivan took stockade duty that night.

They're operating with 10-15 fewer men than usual. Birkin wouldn't want his first sergeant pulling overnight stockade babysitting duty, but Sullivan had been operating as commander of the guard while they waited for another sergeant to replace the one who died. So it's not entirely implausible.

Royston is still there but he's not the target of the spirit's ire. I guess it wants to go straight to being the angel of death like in that one ending the City showed Royston.

Now that I've vaped the scenario, let's see how it plays out. There are two ways it could go.

Sullivan successfully resists possession. The spirit gets pissed off and takes Royston anyway. See below for note re: why Sullivan needs to not be in the stockade overnight for the next loop to have a chance of not washing.

Sullivan is not able to resist possession.

In the second situation, they've got roughly 60 seconds left on that loop. The spirit wants him to do a Genocide run (I've been playing Undertale, it's given me serious brainrot) and Sullivan is like... weaponized. He barely sees himself as a human being even before being possessed. Hofer is the only thing keeping him in his flesh prison in the 1873-74 route. Hofer's not there, he's across the fort sleeping.

Who's the nearest person to Sullivan in a scenario where he's completely possessed and driven to kill everyone on the map?

They reset after he kills him. Neither of them remember anything when they go back to [consults post-it note map] February 1873, because Sullivan was possessed and Royston died.

Maybe Hofer would actually say something on loop 8. He fucking dies every other time they end up at Fort Cano LOL.

Thanks for the nightmare scenario!

[1] In every single iteration prior to the one I show you in Book 1, Royston kills Lon Huston in a duel on main street in March 1873, while Sullivan is away from the fort. Buck tells Tom Huston Royston and Sullivan are screwing, who tells Cal and Del, who renegotiate the terms of their "contract" with their spirit such that if they bring it "a warrior's heart" it will let them live forever without having to flay people alive, etc. etc.

You pretty much see what happens in Chapter 24 (AO3 numbering.)

[2] I joke it's bc he has chronic pain and the spirit doesn't want to fuck with that. It's prob his age/experience relative to the recruits. Royston is a) obsessed with Sullivan, which gives the spirit an "in" and b) willing to shit-talk the spirit to its "face." But Mathis was under spirit possession when he wrote the letter to Royston; glancing at the coordinates made Turner more susceptible, whereas Royston (who skimmed Mathis's letter on the train) and Sullivan both read the thing, and Sullivan was fine.

[christisilluminati]

Part 2: Bridging Spiritual and Mental Realms l The Man of Sin and Modern Afflictions

The Man of Sin:

Mark 5 forms the base of my ministry because it reveals the Man of SIN, exposing him for who he is. In this passage, Jesus encounters a man living among the tombs, who had often been bound in shackles and chains, only to break free from them. This man cried out night and day cutting himself with stones. The passage also describes the man as aggressive by informing us that no one was strong enough to subdue him. (Mark 5:2-5)

Let's break down this story to gain a full understanding:

The man was isolated in the tombs, a situation indicating severe mental distress. He wore shackles and chains, marking him as an inmate by today's standards. Today, he might be seen as someone struggling with addiction. These are characteristics of SIN. His act of breaking free from the chains is akin to that of an escaped prisoner. It takes a brave soul to escape prison these days. He'd likely carry a gun and would possibly murder for his freedom. This too is a characteristic of SIN. Cutting his wrists with stones is an act of self-harm, while his cries for help are symptoms we see in mental illness, both of which further illustrate the depth of his suffering and the manifestation of SIN.

The Legion was the source of all this man's suffering and SIN—a Legion of "many members" housed within the man. Each one of this man's SINFUL thoughts that led him to his SINFUL actions was an effect of LEGION. "Cause and effect."

Spirits are invisible; you cannot see them. With that, it becomes clear that Jesus was in conversation with a formless voice in this story, and it was not His first time. Jesus could hear the audible voice of a spirit without form dwelling inside this man's tabernacle of flesh, those thoughts that led to the man's SINS. Today, we would describe this phenomenon as schizophrenia.

Was Jesus schizophrenic? I'll need you to be patient with me as I explain this, but yes, He was. And I'll show you in the next section, but are you aware that our science today supports the notion that He was? They have analyzed the major prophets such as Abraham, Moses, Jesus, and Paul from a behavioral, neurologic, and neuropsychiatric perspective to determine the nature of their revelations. They are saying that these men had experiences that resemble those now defined as psychotic symptoms, suggesting that their experiences may have been manifestations of primary or mood disorder-associated psychotic disorders. These findings suggest that persons with primary and mood disorder-associated psychotic symptoms have had a monumental influence on the shaping of Western civilization. We already live in a world where we no longer believe God still speaks to His prophets with and AUDIBLE WORD, and now science is aiming towards a world where we will believe they NEVER DID.

Linked With Mental Health:

Schizophrenic patients believe they can hear the thoughts of other people. We call this telepathy, and now have machines that are capable of doing so. Science calls it synthetic telepathy. One must wonder how this is even possible. Such a thing seems like science fiction.

The ability to use telepathy is something the Illuminati are known for by many of those who are suffering. The ones I'm trying to reach with my message. They believe that this telepathy ability is a part of how THEY control their minds. Was this man's mind controlled? YES, IT WAS. By whom? The "many members" of the Legion. And where was this Legion? Inside the man DRIVING him into the tombs. DRIVING him to cut his wrist. Very much the same way that THIS KIND DROVE the boy to FALL into the fire. NIV 2011.

Luke 8:29 For Jesus had commanded the impure spirit to come out of the man. Many times it had seized him, and though he was chained hand and foot and kept under guard, he had broken his chains and had been driven by the demon into solitary places. NIV 2011

Luke 8:29 For he commanded the unclean spirit, that he should go out from the man. For he took him oft times, and he was bound with chains, and kept in stocks, and when the bonds were broken, he was led of the devil into desert. WYC 1382

THIS KIND is the Legion. This Legion was this man's SIN. This is the Man of SIN. (2 Thessalonians 2:3) A spirit, the murderer from the beginning. (John 8:44) The offspring of the Viper. (Matthew 12:34) That Viper that eats dust all his days. (Genesis 3:14) Man was made from the dust. (Genesis 2:7) So were the pigs. (Genesis 1:24)

Each action of SIN this man thought of, IN HIS MIND, came from the WISPERS (Matthew 10:27) of the Legion that was capable of speaking audibly to Jesus. This body of "many members" may have been able to speak to the man as well. This is schizophrenia, all of that SIN dwelling inside the man. Who in our world today is teaching this? These "victims" need the TRUTH, not pharmakeia.

When Jesus gave the Legion permission to enter into the tabernacle of those pig's flesh, we see them immediately change their behavior to match that of the mans. They became lunatic. Something had happened to them WITHIN THEIR MINDS, and they immediately turned violent, probably attacking each other all the way down the steep bank into the sea and drowned themselves. They committed suicide. (Mark 5:12-13) They Legion DROVE them to murder themselves. I remind you; MURDER IS SIN. What was these pigs SIN? Legion was, wasn't he? The murderer from the beginning. (John 8:44)

What happened to the man when the Legion left his tabernacle of flesh? That home was swept clean, wasn't it? (Mark 5:15) Where then was this man's SIN? At the bottom of the sea inside a herd of dead pigs. SIN is not a choice; He is a spirit. He has a Kingdom of his own. I want you to think about secular history: a Legion belongs to a Kingdom. (Luke 17:21) He is the THORN that kept Paul from being conceited. That angle of Satan that harassed him, that Christ's grace was sufficient enough to cover. A body of "many members" that belongs to the Man of SIN.

2 Corinthians 12:7-9 And lest the greatness of revelations enhance me in pride, the prick of my flesh, an angel of Satan, is given to me, that he buffet me. For which thing thrice I prayed the Lord, that it should go away from me. And he said to me, My grace sufficeth to thee; for virtue is perfectly made in infirmity. Therefore gladly I shall glory in mine infirmities, that the virtue of Christ dwell in me. WYC 1382

Let's link this together:

Was the boy and isolated? No! Was the Man? Yes! Were the pigs? No!

Was the boy an inmate? No! Was the man? Yes! Were the pigs? No!

Was the boy aggressive? No! Was the man? Yes! Were the pigs? Yes!

Was the boy self-harming? Yes! Was the man? Yes! Did the pigs? Yes!

Was the boy a lunatic? Yes! Was the man? Yes! Were the pigs? Yes! - All characteristics of SIN.

Romans 7:15-20 I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do. And if I do what I do not want to do, I agree that the law is good. As it is, it is no longer I myself who do it, but it is sin living in me. For I know that good itself does not dwell in me, that is, in my sinful nature. For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do—this I keep on doing. Now if I do what I do not want to do, it is no longer I who do it, but it is SIN living in me that does it. WYC 1382

When Jesus taught the lesson about plucking out ones eye, or cutting off ones hand, what was He teaching? "Many members," individual SIN, demons needing to be CAST OUT, belonging to a body. SIN. I pray my readers can see what has been missing in our doctorines.

Matthew 18:8-9 And if thine hand or thy foot cause thee to stumble, cut it off, and cast it away from thee. It is better to thee to enter to life feeble, either crooked, than having twain hands or two feet to be sent into everlasting fire. And if thine eye cause thee to stumble, pull it out, and cast it away from thee. It is better to thee with one eye to enter into life, than having twain eyes to be sent into the fire of hell. WYC 1382

 

Have you ever wondered how Jesus and Paul taught the same ministry, "many members," when Paul had never met Jesus? - THE SAME SPIRIT!

Jesus and Modern Experiences of Spiritual Affliction:

In Part One I shared a story about a woman named Ashley Baily who believed she was Jesus and Illuminati who slit her boyfriend's throat. I also shared my person story of the time a spirit claiming to be God "came to me and said," "Put a bullet in Chewy's head." Chewy, who was my boyfriend at the time was asleep when the "voice came to me."

Imagine being told to murder by an invisible voice claiming to be God. These are things that Jesus faced in Matthew 4 when He was led into the wilderness by a spirit to isolation, (Matthew 4:1) just like the man in Luke 8 was led into the solitary places by Legion. He held a conversation with an invisible voice in this story too, one that was instructing Him to act out certain odd things, like turning stones into bread. (Matthew 4:3) This is something we see in psychosis patients today, with complaints that demons or other voices are instructing them to act out certain odd things as well. What they need is for someone to show them what they are experiencing is the foundation of Jesus' teachings.

He was SEIZED by Satan and TAKEN to the holy city where Satan SET (CONTROL) Him on the highest point of the Temple. Satan then instructed Him to commit suicide, which is SIN. "Throw yourself down." (Matthew 4:5-6) The boy in Mark 9 too was "SEIZED" so that he was "thrown into the fire." (Mark 9:17-18) Consider what that would have looked like to those who were standing around the Temple at the time. You see, we always say that Jesus was in the wilderness for 40 days, (Matthew 4:2) but when Satan SET Him on the pinnacle of the Temple, (Matthew 4:5) He was no longer in the wilderness. There would have been many people around the Temple. You can assume that someone saw Him. Imagine a man standing on the edge of a New York skyscraper, ready to jump. What would you think about him? Mental illness, am I right? Jesus also saw visions of all the Kingdoms of the world in a moment's time. (Matthew 4:8) How could that be?

Patients with psychosis often experience vivid and sometimes disturbing images or scenes in their minds that can feel as real as watching a movie, even though their eyes are open. Science suggests this phenomenon occurs because the brain struggles to differentiate between reality and these hallucinations. This symptom is a hallmark of schizophrenia, manifesting as visual, auditory, or other sensory hallucinations. These experiences can be very vivid and lifelike. They are real to the person experiencing them. I have even found a poem expressing the tear between the good and evil auditory voices and the visions of the mind titled, "The Movie in my Mind."

Was Jesus' experience real? Yes, it was. What about those experiencing it today? Yes, their experience is just as real as the boy's in Matthew 17, the man in Mark 5, and Jesus'. They are the same, and science agrees with me. While they are feeding pharmaceuticals to the experience, claiming it's not real and a mental illness. I stand up for the truth that this is what Jesus' ministry was about. Our Christian society is not doing what is required of them to receive salvation by neglecting those with spiritual gifts and experiences.

Revelation 18:23-24 and the light of [the] lantern shall no more shine in thee, and the voice of the husband and of the wife shall no more be heard in thee; for thy merchants were princes of the earth. For in thy witchcrafts all folks erred. And the blood of prophets and of saints is found in it, and of all men that be slain in earth. WYC 1382

Revelation 3:1 And to the angel of the church of Sardis write thou, These things saith he, that hath the seven spirits of God, and the seven stars. I know thy works, for thou hast a name, that thou livest, and thou art dead. WYC 1382

I've had so many Christians try to rebuke my teachings. A prison minister once attempted to disprove to me that the Legion in Mark 5 is not the same spirit Jesus encountered in Matthew 4, stating that God cannot be demon possessed. The fact is, I understand the Christians are only standing up for what they understand the truth to be. I am aware: to them it seems as though I'm changing the entire Bible. What they lack in knowledge is: it has already been changed, and it's not our generation's fault. We are not the ones who altered it, leading to the dissention. (2 Thessalonians 2:3) No one is thinking to look 600 years back. I understand, really. I do.

However, I too am armed with a rebuke. Look at what I have already been able to show you. Also, when tracing the words back through a Strongs concordance, you will find they are synonymous. In my YouTube video, Strong's Comparison for Satan and Demon: An In-Depth Analysis, I detail my study techniques in response to the email I received from the prison minister. In it, I confirm that the words "Satan" and "Demon" are synonymous.

The intention was for us to understand where the BODY OF MANY MEMBERS IS, where the Kingdom is, and to recognize that SATAN ALSO HAS A BODY.

Luke 17:21 neither they shall say, Lo! here, or lo[!] there; for lo! the realm of God is within you. WYC 1382

[spiderh0rse]

shephard's mind notes, part one, e1-5

e1

was asleep in the helicopter in but no one noticed because of his mask

does not like your mom jokes. or his squadmates.

everything goes black and Adrian just talks to himself for a bit

immediately shocked by ACTION EXPLOSIONS HOLY SHIT

complains that his tummy hurts 8(

scoffs at the phrasing of "accident"

Adrian is onboard with radioing for help

his head hurts 8( Advil fan

his sergeant is apparently an asshole, if Adrian wanting to see him in pain is a good indication

not happy about having to walk by the headcrab zombies to get his PCV but will do it

not a fan of Otis

doesn't like the idea of pissing off the headcrabs

does want to help the headcrabbed soldier by tearing the headcrab off

willing to lug a chair around for a weapon. Instead enjoys that it slides. Woohoo! Whee!

recognizes industrial cutting lasers. Problematic to him, with flesh that can be cut by lasers

wire shocks him :( very badly apparently

e2

notices his HUD

was always good at math.

remembers that his PCV links up to his vitals and sends the results to his helmet as a readout

repeating "you can't see me" very loudly as he meanders through the headcrabs

Colleague.

almost got glass in his face

would not want to be employed at Black Mesa

was afraid it might've taken some time to get to the surface

thinks he can jump a bit further than he actually can

confident in his climbing acumen

seems to like narrating his actions as he does them, atop of speaking to himself in a manner outside of rambling diatribes and moreso commands (tells himself to not look down, asks why he's looking down)

does not notice the vortigaunt in favour of the KNIFE

to be fair it's a good ka-bar

"never seen an alien before up close"

"hit the weak point for massive damage"

a bit subdued at the sight of his dead squadmates

pretty sure he isn't that far out from Roswell right now

fusses at a dead guard for touching the electrified fence and then brushes up against it himself

slur count: one.

watches pokemon

the DEAGLE

thinks a laser sight is badass

laughs at a dead guard

wishes he could whistle

electricity seems to be his greatest weakness right now

doesn't enjoy barbeques. thinks they're a bit boring. nothing ever seems to happen

5:30? With this sky?

watches something called House. given the time period this is likely House M.D.

e3

considering stealing an alien spaceship from the labs to leave

doesn't care about the aliens so long as they don't touch him

wonders if a barnacle is a Terran animal he doesn't know about

only very recently familiar with echidnas

seemingly unbothered by a dead HECU

thinks air traffic control would hate him for hijacking an alien spaceship

"I'm going to beat the shit out of you! With bullets!"

pegs the green goop for radioactive waste

high voltage toxic waste! Adrian is aghast.

panics for a good moment. NOT keeping cool under pressure

yells at himself to go

Colleague.

thanks Gman for letting him out of the danger room. Wants to thank him in person, shake his hand

ELECTRIFIED TOXIC WASTE

confused as to where Gman went

he does not like his accuracy in guessing about awful events

compares the headcrabs to plucked chickens. wants to take one home and cook it

wishes the switches were labeled

slur count: two.

insults a guard for dying next to a functional medbox

has a cousin named James who believes himself to be a reincarnated spider. Would try to make webs with his hair.

recognizes the HEV/PCV suit batteries!

thinks Gman must've found a secret passage out and simply not told Adrian

mocks a toll booth

thinks maybe the military should wait until the soldiers are gone to try airstrikes

e4

strong swimmer!

his PCV and gas mask are NOT waterproof

not too happy about dead barnacles spitting out gunk on him but doesn't seem particularly bothered either

wants to learn how to shoot lighting so he can have a weapon if he ever goes to prison

dislikes loud annoying beeping

sewage smell :(

actually hey if his mask isn't watertight and he's still getting a lot of smell through it it wouldn't be at all effective against gas would it

hears houndeyes and wonders if theyre puppies

apparently not familiar with the idea of compound eyes

used to be afraid of big dogs

hamdogs... Pretty sure Stark considered that a slur against houndeyes

couldn't sleep last night :( tired

hopes for some peace and quiet

dozes off IMMEDIATELY on the tram

has a quarter on hand?

steals Otis's candy bar

willing to compliment Otis for his fine shooting

slur count: three.

excited to see a phone. Tries to call 911, connects, is pegged as a prank call. This is apparently a pizza hotline now!

from Santago Military Base! Santiago? Something like that.

e5

gets so mad about being put on hold that he shoots the phone

primly informs the scientist watching him that the phone is dead.

asks Otis to look after any civilians that find their way over. Seems fond of him.

once again unbothered at a dead marine. Takes his gun.

"HEY OTIS. ... NEVERMIND."

thinks the vents are dusty. He's not allergic though.

doesn't get how spies can crawl through vents and leave clean

has NO clue who freeman is

almost disappointed to be leaving so soon

a little defensive of some old scientist being pushed around

correctly guesses that Freeman is an evil scientist that collects human skulls

walks it back. Claims freeman may just be a nerd

annoyed at Gman for closing the door on him.

sick of being stranded in Black Mesa

beats the vortigaunts to death this time

nope nevermind! That was an imagination sequence he's just screaming and shooting his mp5 and complaining about recoil

wants to attack Gman with his own briefcase

no longer phased by aliens teleporting in

ignores a door in favour of a vent. turns around to use the door. locked.

his intuition is usually right

can't believe he's getting used to using vents as transit

confounded at flooding in a room with no visible water source

bad at balancing

instantly regrets trying to walk along really thin metal

hyping himself up

really has to take a piss

just goes for it into an existing water source