#like my man fought with his system multiple times

[greeniegaes]

I’ve decided the most fun dynamic to write with a Shen Jiu and a Shen Yuan is SY in the body and SJ backseat driving (floating?) outside the body being like “we should do this” and SY being like “I’m going to do this, but in the most heart attack inducing way possible”

Shen Jiu is glad he is a ghost or he would’ve qi deviated to the point of no return and Shen Yuan is enjoying his time being a menace to both a ghost and the system

[3-2-whump]

The Auction Floor: Thomas Costa’s POV

Hi all,

In exchange for a chapter on the current timeline (a chapter I am still working on/fixing up before it is posted), I am posting a prequel chapter. Any and all prequel chapters will be found under 'Eternal, part 0.' They won't have nav arrows, but they will have an explanation to when in the story they take place, and a link to the masterlist to read more. Hope this system works for everyone!

This chapter happens slightly before, concurrently, and a little after The Auction Floor

TW/CW: death of a minor character (briefly mentioned), institutionalized slavery, pet whump, dehumanization, nonconsensual nudity (nonsexual), minor whump (at time of story), creepy/intimate whumper(s) (sort of a multiple whimpers situation), manhandling (nonsexual) (towards the end)

Mob boss Luciano Antonio Costa – Boss Tony - had died, leaving mafia to his grandson, Thomas, to control. The newly-appointed heir didn’t look much like a typical Italian mob boss. With his blonde hair, steely blue eyes, and freckled fair skin, he hardly even looked Italian. However, the old boss never had any legitimate male heirs to pass the helm of leadership to, having only one daughter before his wife died. Although he begrudgingly accepted his daughter’s marriage to Tom’s father, an inconsequential gangster from the Irish mob, he had always intended to pass the family business onto his surviving grandson.

“I’m so sorry for your loss” began to lose its meaning after the fourth well-meaning chump, and unfortunately, Grandpa Tony’s funeral had a good turnout. “That was a beautiful eulogy,” one of many nameless faces sniffled. “You two must have been very close,” they’d said to him. Were we ever close, though? Thomas wanted to ask, remembering only the time they last fought. It may as well have been a lifetime ago when he was a teenager who turned his back on the family to try and live a straight life, but the guilt hung over him like a curse no matter how hard he had tried to run away from his fate as the next boss of the Costas. It was always about what he wanted me to be, not what I wanted. Never once was it ever about what I wanted to do with my life, he bitterly remembered. Even now, it was all about Grandpa Tony’s wants, as he accepted his role in leading the Costas. He cast a baleful glance at the casket as it slowly disappeared beneath the earth.You won, old man.

His underboss and a few of the capos, men that he had grown up with and who now supported him in running the large criminal organization, caught on to their new boss’ sour mood. Admittedly, it wasn’t hard to notice how intensely he scowled at the freshly filled-in grave. They suggested celebrating Thomas’ ascension to head of the family with drinks and a night out, but their idea of a night out was attending a black-market auction and maxing out the organization’s funds on frivolous shit. Powerful drugs, illicit weapons, plundered antiques, and –dear god, did Jaime just buy an arowana?! Thomas looked over the side of his whiskey glass disapprovingly.

He glanced over at a corner of the auction house that seemed to gather a large crowd. He shrugged and decided to join them to see the display. The crowd surrounded an entire floor-to-ceiling wall of glass, behind which stood people from all around the world, each divided into their own little compartments within the glass wall, each of them completely naked. The way they were displayed in those little glass tanks was oddly reminiscent of how fish were displayed at a pet store.

Get a pet, people had said to him. It’ll be good for you, they said, help lift your spirits, they said, if you’re responsible for keeping one little thing alive, maybe you’ll be more motivated to take care of yourself, they said. Surely those people had meant a cat or a dog or a python, and probably not an actual human being. Although, Thomas remembered the people giving him that advice were part of the major crime families of the city, too. Perhaps this was what they meant all along?

Regardless of what those people meant, it was a whole different thing to actually commit to owning a person. He’d never seriously considered it before, but now he found himself thoughtfully observing the merchandise behind the glass. Though there were a few people who were obviously adults, most of them were teens, and most them were girls, though there were a couple boys, too.

Whichever one he’d pick, they would have to be relatively attractive, if he was going to have to bear looking at them at the end of every day. He eyed a glass cell with a stunning blonde girl futilely trying to cover herself with her hands and ignore the gazes directed within her cell. Thomas pushed past the crowd and moved on; pretty girls like that would be swiped up immediately, so it wouldn’t even be worth the trouble to place a bid. The next cell held a freckled boy who leaned into the glass, fogging it up with his breath and writing ‘HELP ME’ over and over again with his finger. Thomas passed on that one, too. One by one he would find something wrong with the human assets behind the glass cases. Too shy, too desperate, not my type, that one just stares ahead and doesn’t even move…

He finally stopped around the last few cells, where a crowd had dissipated from in front of a glass cell with discontented murmurs. Inside that one crouched a small boy, knobby knees drawn to bony chest, thin, tan arms wrapped around his shins, and a head of messy dark hair resting on top his knees. The boy dared to look up from his hiding place. Loose, unruly waves of hair and thick, dark eyelashes nearly covered his expressive dark brown eyes. Those eyes hid nothing as they shone with fear. Thomas gripped the whiskey in his hand a little tighter. The child cut a striking image inside the glass prison, reminding him of a time and a place and an incidence he never liked to think about for long-

To his misfortune, his subordinates caught him staring. “Got your eye on the little slave, Tommy-Boy?” Luca asked as he sauntered up to him.

“Don’t call him that.” Even if that was technically what he would be, the whole concept still took a while for him to get used to. “I just think he’s cute is all,” he mumbled into his glass, draining it of the rest of the whiskey while he tried to convince himself the pink in his cheeks was only from the drink.

“Why don’t you place a bid?” Thomas whipped around to see Jaime lurking behind him. When did he get here? His eyes traveled down to the large picnic cooler on wheels, supposedly where Jaime’s new fish was. “Boss Tony, God rest his soul, left you quite the inheritance, I’m sure you can afford him,” Jamie snickered. He pointed to the sign above the glass cell, where the serial number and QR code were displayed prominently. “142225,” he read.

“Doesn’t he kind of remind you of-”

“You shut up. Right now,” Thomas warned.

“We’ll shut up once you place a bid, now come on! At least look up the little slave!”

Thomas sighed and whipped out his phone; the sooner he scanned the QR Code with the app the black market had made him download, the sooner his underlings would shut the hell up. A profile popped up on his phone screen, the men crowding comically around him to read over his shoulder. 142225 had been collected in Pakistan, was 5’1”, and weighed barely 90 lbs. at the last weigh-in.

“They like to starve the kids here,” Luca explained nonchalantly. “Makes it easier to control them.” Thomas glanced briefly at the thin boy inside the glass, frowning a little as he let that unsettling fact sink in. He quickly scrolled past the blood type, known allergies, and other information he deemed irrelevant to hover his thumb over the ‘PLACE A BID’ button.

“Well, go on, you know you want to!”

“He looks easy enough to take care of, and easy on the eyes, too!”

“We saw how enviously you stared at Matteo’s pet at the last New Year’s party, won’t it be nice to finally have one of your own?”

 Eventually, their peer-pressure resulted in the new mob boss placing a bid, becoming $30k poorer, filling out some ridiculous form about any last-minute body mods he may want, and waiting until the end of the night to collect his new slave and go home. His companions had left hours ago, and every other buyer had gotten their slave already, so it was just him waiting alone in an emptying warehouse, trying to make small talk with one of the event coordinators.

“So, does he have a name?”

She didn’t even look up from her tablet. “He’s named whatever you want to name him.”

“Where is he from? Besides the collection point, where’s he actually from?”

“We don’t know.”

“How old is he?”

“We don’t know.”

Thomas barely suppressed a groan. “Is there anything you do know?” he ground out impatiently.

“Yeah. He looks even cuter when he cries.” The woman smirked over her tablet, looking over Thomas’ right shoulder. “He’s here.”

Thomas turned around to see the boy, now clothed in a white T-shirt and bluish gray sweatpants. He kept his eyes downcast and his hands folded in front of him. “What’s your name, kid?”

The boy looked up briefly before dropping his gaze back to his bare feet. “Khaled,” he replied, voice timid and heavily accented, “but you may call me whatever you want, sir.”

Khaled. He silently rolled the name around on his tongue as if savoring an exotic sweet. Khaled. Thomas cast what he hoped was a reassuring smile, not that Khaled saw it with his gaze fixed to the floor. “Luckily for you, I like your name.” He strode decisively toward the exit, gently placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder to direct him. “Come with me, Khaled.”

In the nearly three-hour car ride back to Thomas’ home, the mob boss learned three things about his new purchase. Firstly, Khaled was shy, only speaking when spoken to and even then, using as few words as possible. Also, Khaled probably didn’t speak much English; how much of this was because he was shy, and how much of this was because he literally couldn’t understand him? And –finally, -Khaled could run. Since the moment the car parked, Khaled dashed out and sprinted into the street. He nearly got hit by a truck before Thomas could chase after him, pull him back, and drag him inside the apartment building. The scene of a grown man dragging a distressed kid who was screaming bloody murder probably shocked some residents, but fortunately the doorman was part of the Costas and did not bat an eye.

“It is too damn early for this!” Thomas complained to himself as he practically threw Khaled into the awaiting elevator. “Do you want to be leashed up like a dog, you little shit?! Cause that’s what’s going to happen if you keep trying to run away!”

“Let go of me, please!” the boy cried, his voice brittle and panicked like a scared, caged animal as he tried to twist out of the punishing grip on his arm.

“Like hell I’m letting you go, not after maxing out my personal credit card on you and pulling an all-nighter for the first time since Kandahar!” He violently jammed the buttons that would take them to the top floor of the high rise.

Soon the elevator dinged, doors swooshing open as they reached the floor of his penthouse. “Come on!” Thomas continued to drag the boy through the hallway, ignoring him begging in that endearing accent of his. Khaled’s complaints all but ceased as soon as he opened the door to his penthouse and let the boy step inside. His eyes widened, sparkling in awe, and his jaw dropped as he let out a reverent “whoa” that transcended any language barrier.

The living room to the penthouse itself was light and spacious, with large floor-to-ceiling windows that let in plenty of natural light, and minimalist décor to accent the living room. A large L-shaped couch dominated the living room and looked over the expansive rooftop and the cityscape beyond it. The rest of the room terminated sharply into a dining area with a large oak table and a wood-floored kitchen with two large granite countertops. An imposingly large door –the door to Thomas’ bedroom, -stood closed to the left of the living room. A hallway to the right branched off into an office on one side, and a guest bathroom opposite. A small staircase right outside the laundry room led to a storage loft spanning above the entrance. Thomas toed off his shoes at the door. Khaled, who wasn’t wearing any shoes, hesitantly walked in. Tom frowned when he noticed the dirty footprints left behind on his beige rug.“Would you like a bath, Khaled?” he suggested. The fact that Khaled didn’t reply made him again wonder how much English he truly understood. We can work on that. He sighed in exasperation as he gripped the boy’s arm and dragged him off to the guest bathroom. Once inside, Thomas deposited him at the entrance and turned on the lights and the fan. He got the shower head running next. Khaled stood silently watching him by the door as he tested the water’s temperature with his hand a few times. He nodded in satisfaction as the water finally reached an agreeable temperature. “Come on in,” he beckoned. Khaled inched closer to the bath tub. “Can I take off your clothes?” he asked. The boy blinked, then shook his head as he quickly took off the shirt himself. The drab sweatpants soon followed, and he quickly stepped into the shower. Thomas drew the curtain to prevent water from spilling and to give him a shred of privacy. As the boy showered, he soon realized Khaled had nothing to wear but that depressing little t-shirt and sweatpants. He took them to the laundry room and chucked them in the hamper, making a mental note to buy some clothes for Khaled as soon as possible. Cute as the small naked boy was, he was still a minor, and Tom didn’t need any extra distractions while he was adjusting to his new role as Boss of the Costa Family.

Le Tag List: @kabie-whump @rainydaywhump @whumped-by-glitter @skittles-the-whumpee @generic-whumperz @bamber344 @there-will-always-be-blood @morning-star-whump

[dreamsy990]

so 358/2 days, amiright? heres my thoughts

this game is just. god its an emotional rollarcoaster

i guess ill start with the things i dont like!! which is mostly the gameplay. i dont really mind the mission structure shockingly (i like being able to roam around but having a clear goal makes things easier for my adhd ass, and i think the miniature storylines are very good for the most part) but i simply could Not get into the combat. especially coming off of kh2 it feels so stiff and unfun to play the only part of the game where i enjoyed the combat was fighting riku at the very end. i think the panel system is okay but i dont like that levels take up space. why did they do that.

story-wise, i dont like the retcons!! a lot of the ones i take issue with are very minor but things like roxas only fighting riku once instead of the implied multiple times (even the dialogue doesnt make sense when you change that, why does roxas say 'how many times do i have to beat you' when theyve only fought once?) are the kinds of inconsistencies that just annoy me.

im also a little bit annoyed at the very concept of this game at all. i think roxas worked just fine as a character without this game. it feels sort of unnecessary in the grand scheme of things. also, xion. i love xion, dont get me wrong, but i dont think she adds anything to the series over all. thats not to say she doesnt add anything to this game because shes a great character and i love her, but shes just. kind of like this game in that if you got rid of her i dont think it would really change the narrative so much.

BUT DESPITE THAT ALL!!!!!!!! i fucking ADORE this game. it is genuinely so full of charm and soul that i just cant bring myself to dislike it. i think this is one of the best written games in terms of dialogue. every scene (at least for me) hit exactly as emotionally hard as i think it was meant to. i was laughing at demyx's antics and crying at xions death and yelling at saix and i think thats exactly how the game is meant to be seen.

days at its heart is a slice of life. its working a 9 to 5 its going through a depressive episode its losing friends its grieving its making fun of your coworkers its living. its a game about life and i love that.

this game really did make me forget that axel roxas and xion dont get a happy ending. i spent so much time looking forward to them making up that i forgot that roxas ran away. hell i almost forgot that xion died.

days is emotional and its story and its characters are just so fucking good. the conflicts all felt very real and you can tell exactly where everyones coming from. the way axel roxas and xion fall apart hits so fucking close to home. but god damnit if axel had any good communication skills like half of this could be avoided

its also one hell of a love letter to axel's character. hes always been one of my favorites (he recently earned first place) and i think this game does him a lot of justice. hes trying to do good. he wants to keep everything together he wants to be there for his friends he wants to make things right but he just cant. its just AUGH its so fucking good

that thing about axel's characterization really also applies to roxas. i dont have much to say about him beyond the fact that i think it does his character very well. also tism. hes so autism.

i kind of like the very limited graphics too. sue me i enjoy low quality games. the hands are not animated and they all have two expressions (blinking and not blinking) and their weapons are flat and im living for it. the very few fully animated cutscenes are good too!!

the (real, i dont count riku) final boss is unfortunately very easy. you can just stand directly in front of her and mash a she wont hit you its too easy but vector to the heavens did mess me up a bit. also earlier scene but "ill always be there to bring you back" with the other promise playing over it? fucked me up man. yoko shimomura is once again killing it

i cant believe roxas didnt get to go to the beach.

i have to give this game a 9/10. its writing is incredible but the gameplay could use a lot of work. its just not fun to play. but again the characters, emotions, and music all make up for that tenfold.

[hangmansgbaby]

Gunpowder & Lead P R O L O G U E

Masterlist

Emory's POV is written by @mamachasesmayhem and Jake's POV is written by me.

Banners are POV changers.

"I can't do this anymore, Matt. I'm leaving." The words leave my mouth with only a slight tremble. 

Matt barks out a laugh. "What was that, baby?" 

I take a deep breath and steel my nerves. "I'm leaving."

"The fuck you are!"

Matt's statement is punctuated with a fierce blow to my cheek, knocking me sideways.  

I thought that his recent lack of interest in me would have made this easier. I thought that maybe he was finally tired of me, that maybe he wouldn't care as much when I tried to leave. Clearly, I was wrong. 

A kick lands on my ribs after I land on the floor, followed by a few more. I try to no avail to block them, only earning bruises and likely more fractures to my arms. He grips my hair to pull me up only to slam my head into the floor.  My head spins as I feel blood pool beneath me.  I'm barely conscious when he finally decides to stop, probably thinking I'm down for the count. I hear him grab hiskeys from their hook by the door but when I catch a glimpse of the hooks I realize it wasn't just his that he took, but mine too. Shit, that makes this more difficult. His stupid ass Camero revs in the driveway and the sound of his tires peeling fills the small house. I fight to stay conscious because I can do this.  

I don't know how much time has passed when I pull every ounce of will and strength in my body and finally crawl onto my hands and knees.  

I can do this.  

It could have been minutes or hours since Matt left, so I don't waste a second.  

I can do this.

I stumble out of the door and adrenaline floods my nervous system.  

I can do this.

My bare feet carry me across the pavement and then through the woods across from the house. It'll hurt like hell later, but it's much shorter to cut through them to get to Birdie's house. This is a route I've memorized, having to sneak out to see my best friend when Matt eventually stopped allowing it. I can get there with my eyes closed, and it's entirely possible I do. 

I eventually break through the tree line and push past the pain that's threatening to overwhelm my body. The light to the back porch is on, drawing me near like a lighthouse to the coast, and I stumble the last few steps to the door. I fall against the cool wood in a heap, frantically pounding my fist against it as darkness clouds my vision. The door opens underneath me and I let it take over, finally able to rest. 

It's warm when I come to, a gentle voice rousing me. "Sweets, can you hear me? Shit, Jav!  She's breathing and has a pulse but she's not responding to me."

I groan and try to peel my eyes open. That voice definitely does not belong to Birdie. It's not her husband Bob either, and that's what startled me enough to fully return my brain to my body.  My eyes land on a face surely carved by Aphrodite herself. 

"Am I dead?" I mutter out. With a chiseled jaw and concern swimming in mossy green eyes staring down at me, I must be. Especially if I'm not scrambling to get away from a man that isn't Bob Floyd. But a tiny voice in my head tells me that he's safe and that he won't hurt me, so I let myself listen to it. 

A small smile pulls at the lips of the man above me. "No, sweets. You're alive, it looks like you fought real hard to be too. How'd you end up here?"

The realization I didn't make it to Birdie's makes me gasp and try to sit up. "I was trying to get to Birdie's house, where I am?!"

I notice I'm cradled in his lap when his arms tighten around me in an attempt to keep me from jostling the multiple injuries I'm sure I have. "Easy, I got you. Birdie Floyd? She's right next door, you almost made it. Just a hundred feet short."

A voice crackles through his phone, clearly on speaker given that I can hear it so clearly. "I'm about 3 minutes out, Jake. What's going on?"

"She's awake, Javy. I think I can manage until you get here, but I'll keep you on the phone just in case."

He turns to me and I can hear sirens in the background of the call. "I'm Officer Jake Seresin and on the phone is my best friend Javy Machado, he's a paramedic.  He's working tonight and I called him the second I opened the door, he and his partner are on the way to come look at ya, ok?" My nod prompts him to continue. "I can go get Bob and Birdie if you want?"

"No!" I yelp. "Please don't leave me alone! H-he might show up..."

"It's ok, pretty girl. I got you, I won't leave you alone. You're safe with me." His voice is calm, soothing. "Even though I'm off duty, I called in some backup. I don't want ya worryin' when you hear the sirens and see the lights here shortly."  

His thumb rubs small circles on my upper arm as red and blue fill the night sky. 

Jake carries me outside to meet the paramedics and I can hear Birdie from across the yard.

“What’s going on?” Her eyes scan the scene and finally land on me and she immediately runs to me."Emory! Oh, honey! What did he do to you this time?" She starts sobbing as her hand gently traces my swollen cheek. "How'd you find her, Jake?"

"She found me. She knocked on my door thinking it was yours." His chin tips up in acknowledgment when Bob joins his wife. "Hey, Floyd. Javy just rolled up and called in some backup."

No sooner than the words leave his mouth, a tall man with a mocha complexion hops out of the ambulance and rushes over. Jake reluctantly lets me go and nods at me as Javy takes over and lays me on a stretcher. As he's taking inventory of my injuries and rolling me to the ambulance, I hear Jake talking to Bob.  

"Where's the fucker that did this to her?"

"If he's not at home, he's at The Den." Bob replies, anger clear in his voice. 

Jake climbs up the step into the ambulance, just beside Birdie and reaches out and gently squeezes my hand.  "Javy's the best there is, you're in good hands. I'm gonna go get the sad excuse of a man that did this to you and he's gonna go rot in a cell."

Tears well in my eyes as relief washes over me.  "Thank you, Jake."

Jake did as he promised, immediately arresting Matt and tossing him in jail. After confirming I did, in fact, end up with new fractures in my arm, a concussion, and severely bruised ribs I returned to work about a week after I may have been sporting a neon pink cast, fading bruises on my face, and stitches in my lip, but I'd never been happier. 

The trial officially concluded and Jake was there by my side through the entire thing, volunteering to be my personal protection detail.

6 months later

Jake had walked through the door of Cora's, the bakery Birdie and I have been working at since we were undergraduates at UT Austin. Once the recognition hit me, I gasped. "It's you."

His smile was soft, almost shy, as he blushed. "It's me."

"You saved me, l-I don't have enough words for how thankful I am for you."

Thankfully, he dropped in during a slower time so my rambling isn't holding up other customers.  

Jake reaches up and rubs the back of his neck as he looks down. "I'd like to think it's what anyone would do, having sworn an oath to protect and serve and all."

I take the time to finally observe what he's wearing, and he looks damn good in his uniform, before smiling up at him. "Well, take your pick officer. Anything you want is on the house.  For as long as I work here."

After that day, he made it a habit to stop in at some point during his shift for coffee and a pastry if he was feeling particularly cheeky.  "The coffee's always been free to the boys in blue, I can't take advantage of your kindness all the time, Sweets." He'd told me. 

And eventually Jake asked me out. "I know you were in a terrible relationship before, so if this is too forward, stop me. But now that it's not a conflict of interest, how do you feel about dinner with me?"

"Dinner sounds amazing." I'd told him with a wide smile and his quickly matched my own. 

From that day forward, we'd been nearly inseparable. With his support, I'd finally caught up with Birdie and finished my MBA. While in school, I met the little spitfire named Adalaide Blake.  She had been in her final semester of law school and studying to pass the BAR exam. She quickly became close to Birdie and I and we've been thick as thieves since.  

Honoring the promise she made to a couple of 19 year old kids, Cora, the owner of the bakery, turned it over into our capable hands and retired. Cora was the grandma I had always wanted.  She took me in when I had nothing and loved Birdie and I as her own. Not long after we took over, Matt was released from prison. Jake had delivered the unfortunate news after plying me with ice cream and tequila a few days before our one year anniversary. He promised to keep me safe and asked me to move in with him. We'd discussed it more the next morning when I was sober and he assured me his reasoning was more than just keeping me safe, he wanted me as part of his every day routine.  

Within a few months of my moving in, I helped Jake study for and pass his detective's test. He soon promoted and we celebrated by christening the new home for the bakery. The new location included a large, secure basement with the intention of housing abused women and children.  Thanks to Jake, the rest of his squadron at the department, and connections they've made through the years, the changes weren't made public knowledge.  

There was a caveat that Jake wasn't aware of: Birdie, Addie, and I had been planning something. While we were absolutely making the new construction a safe haven, we also wanted to find a way to make sure men like Matt didn't ruin any more lives. We realized we could make that happen thanks to the combined knowledge of my studying with Jake for the detective test, Birdie hearing all the stories from Bob about work, and Addie having spent a few years as a defense attorney, we could do it. Birdie had the idea to open a secret speakeasy that would be a way for us to meet with potential women who needed help. The brave souls who sought our help were instructed to ask for a pomegranate scone, which was not sold in the bakery.  They were instead provided with a time to meet back here at the speakeasy that we named "The Underworld." 

Over the next 2 years, we caught cheaters, helped mothers get sole custody of their children, returned money stolen by swindling slimeballs, and rescued women and children from abusive homes. Along the way, we'd made some new friends and became known as The Furies. The Furies consisted of a team of powerful, badass women who shared the same mindset as us. We also made some new enemies...one of them being the Austin PD. A task force was born to stop the ring of vigilantes, and the most ironic part of it all is that many of the Furies have a personal connection to a member of the task force.  For me it was Jake. The man of my dreams and love of my life, had taken on the lead. He had risen through the ranks quickly, finding himself on many cases involving the work of the Furies. With his extensive knowledge, it was a no brainer for the department that he be the commanding officer. Even Birdie’s husband volunteered to be the CSI Specialist for the task force.

Jake and I were almost 4 years into our relationship when my ruse was finally up. I had successfully kept the two facets of my life separate until that fateful night. 

We had been running a sting on a local biker gang known for human trafficking, Demeter and I had been at The Den while trying to sneak our way into the back by posing as "entertainment" for the club. Apparently, one of the guys there that night had known Matt and therefore knew who I was. That's when shit hit the fan. While I'd been training extensively with Jake in MMA classes and with our ex-military friend learning to evade capture, one me against five men was no match. I'd learned how to take a hit with minimal damage and that was my saving grace. With my ass thoroughly beaten, I once again found myself stumbling through the dense woods that lead to Bob and Birdie's house. Leaning against the doorframe, my knuckles rap against the wood for her to come usher me inside and help me get patched up.  

If my right eye wasn't swollen shut, I might have noticed that the door was a deep blue I'd personally picked out instead of the dark maroon I was expecting. The door opens and I don't even look up before I start talking. 

"I'm an idiot, I know. Might need to call someone though, I think one of those fuckers broke my nose," I whine. 

"Emory? What the fuck?!" A deep voice bellows from the open door. 

I look up and my eyes make contact with very angry looking green ones.  "Aw shit, wrong door again."

"What the actual fuck, Em? Get inside." I try to usher her in but she takes a step back.

"No, I'm gonna pretend this didn't happen and walk over to Birdie's." Emory tried to walk away but I reached out and snatched her hand. "Jake what are you -? Ow ow, fine, I'll go, just let go of me." 

I let go and she pulled on her hand to get rid of the feeling. I could see the war in her one good eye as she reluctantly followed me inside. I led her into the kitchen, lifting her up onto the island before moving to grab the first aid kit from under the sink. I silently began working on cleaning up the blood on her face before moving down to see if there are other wounds to treat. 

"It's just my nose." She mutters and I release the breath I didn't know I was holding as I check on her nose. It wasn't broken thankfully and it didn't look like she was going to have a concussion either so I was able to relax a little. 

"Well it doesn't look broken." I sigh as I move to grab an ice pack from the freezer. "Just need some ice and you'll keep your gorgeous face in perfect condition." She gives me an unimpressed glance as I hold out the ice pack to show her how serious I am about fixing her nose. She grabs it and gingerly presses it against the bridge of her nose.

The air around us was thick as we sat in silence. I took the time to really take her in: the way her hair is still messy and her eyes are still slightly swollen, the bridge of her nose was red and she was sure to have bruising around her eyes tomorrow. I could tell by the way she stared at the tiled floor of our kitchen that she was in her mind. She was supposed to be at the bakery all night, and now she's showing up at my door bloody, again. I'm just about to say something when she speaks up.

"So I guess I gotta explain why we're having a deja vu episode."

"That would be nice." I say with a deep sigh. "But I'd rather make sure you are okay."

"I'm fine. I'd like to explain it all now, rather than later." Her voice sounded strained and for someone who was usually so confident, that was saying something. "Okay, shoot." 

She takes a deep breath before she starts. "I would like to state that if you never wanna see or speak to me again after you hear all this I completely understand, because it's a lot and you're probably gonna hate me afterwards and—"

"Em, please, stop." I cut her off, unable to deal with any more of her self deprecating rambling. "We're gonna have to get married before you continue so I can claim marital privilege."

"Wait, really?" She drops the ice pack to the counter as her eyes widen at my words. We've only just recently started talking about marriage being an option because I wanted to wait for her to be ready for it. "Seriously? You wanna marry me before I tell you all this?"

"Really, sweets." I smile, reaching out to cup her cheeks. "I love you and nothing could ever make me hate you! Shit, you could be the fucking leader of the Furies and I would still only see my Emory. I even have a ring upstairs." 

"No you don't." She chuckles nervously. 

"Oh, I do, trust me." I lean towards her and place a small kiss on her lips. They're chapped but warm. She leans forward as well, tilting her head slightly. We pull apart with a soft chuckle.

"So should we get you that ring and then go tell Bob and Birdie?" I smile.

"Yeah. Yeah I think we should." She nods before looking back at me. "You wanna help me clean up?" I laugh as I grab a washcloth to clean up the rest of the blood. 

Once she was cleaned up and changed into some new clothes, we made our way across the shared yard to the Floyd household. 

"I doubt they're even still up." Emory mutters as I knock on the door. "I mean seriously, it's 4 am. They wouldn't still be up, would they?"

"Not that I can tell." I frown and look back toward Em. "Let's see." We both peer inside the house through a window and we both see that the lights are still on, albeit dimly. Suddenly, the door opens to reveal Bob, his eyes already tired and his glasses fogged up from sleep. His hair was rumpled as if he had been running his hands through as his vision focused on us.

"Hey, what are you guys doing here so late?"

"We need to talk to you guys." I answer as Emory nods. 

"About what?" The tone in his voice indicates that he isn't buying into anything. He's definitely suspicious of us. 

"Nothing important." I lie and Emory quickly steps in.

"But you should go get Birdie."

"If it's enough for the both of you to interrupt mine and Birdie's sleep schedules, then it is important." Bob sighs, "Come on in." He gestures us in before locking the door and heading towards his bedroom where Birdie was surely sound asleep.

It's a few minutes before we hear the tell tale signs of Emory's best friend running down the hallway. 

"Em! Are you okay?" The brunette girl drops beside her friend, checking her over for injuries. "Should I call…?"

"I'm fine Bird, everything is okay now." Em assures her and I could see Birdie's shoulders visibly relax before she reaches for a pillow.

"Then where the hell have you been?!" The brunette exclaims as she pulls away from her friend, hitting her with the decorative pillow. "I thought you were dead! There was always a chance you were in deep but what the hell?!"

"I'll explain everything later, but we need you to do something for us first." Emory smiles softly, pulling the pillow from Birdie's hands. Both Birdie and Bob look at us confused as I move to the seat next to Em. 

"We're getting married tomorrow." I say.

"Oh." Bob answers shocked.

"Oh? Oh my god! Finally!" Birdie jumps up cheering. "Wait! Why tomorrow?"

"I might've fucked up on which door I knocked on again." Emory giggles. I laugh with her, Birdie just stares blankly at us before she speaks.

"So you're gonna...?"

"After the wedding, he wants marital privilege." Em answers.

"Oh well then by all means Mr. Seresin, dive in head first!" Birdie replies, laughing. "Break her heart after this, they won't find your body."

"I'm gonna kill you someday Birdie." Emory mumbles.

"No you won't." Birdie blows her a kiss. "Now you get the guest room." She says, pulling Emory from the couch and pushing her down the hall. "And you get to go home and sleep alone!" She says, looking at me. 

"But..."

"It's bad luck to see the bride before the wedding. Now get out of my house." Birdie ushers me towards the door.

"Ya know we could've done it in secret." I tell her.

"Then you'd be dead. Night Jake!" She smiles before closing her front door and locking it. 

With that I turned, headed towards home. I felt slightly lightheaded and giddy; I couldn't believe it actually happened. I didn't feel scared or worried, but I guess I should have. I knew I loved Emory and nothing could change that, why would she even think that anything would? As I thought about these things walking through my front door, I glanced at the clock, noting the brightly shining 4:36 am. The courthouse opens at 8, sleeping now would only make us late so I walked to the living room and threw on the morning news.

Our wedding, although a simple one at the courthouse with only Bob and Birdie present was perfect. I never needed the fancy suit, the white gown, and the big wedding to prove that I loved her. Seeing her stand before me with the ring I've been holding onto for a year was more than enough. Bob and Birdie treated us to breakfast before heading back to their house. And then Emory tells me everything. And I mean everything.

I sit in shock on the loveseat as Em paces across the living room from me. Birdie's in the kitchen making drinks and Bob speaks up from his seat on the other couch.

"Well thank fuck someone else knows." He sighs, relaxing into his chair.

"I'm sorry, WHAT?!" I shouted, turning to who I thought was my best friend. "You knew they were doing this?"

"Why else do you think there was never any definite trail linking them to any of the crimes? I've been busting my ass around the clock out here!" Bob defends. "Nat and I can't take it anymore!" Bob immediately slaps a hand over his mouth. My eyes widen, if possible, more than they already were. 

"Nat knows?!"

"BOB!" Both Emory and Birdie shout.

"Am I the only one who didn't know?" I question, my eyes trailing between the girls. 

"Uhhh, Jake. Let's talk more tomorrow after we've consummated our marriage and can't have it annulled." Em chuckles softly and I already know the answer. Everyone, everyone knew before me.

"Did everyone know before me?"

"At least Cyclone doesn't know. Especially about—" Bob is cut off again by his wife who's abandoned the drinks. 

"Robert!"

"The dam is broken, Birdie. There's no turning back now!" 

"I knew we should've let Psyche make him sign the NDA." Emory sighs, groaning as she drops into a seat.

"Well I figured he feared his wife more." Birdie shrugs.

"And I do!" Bob jumps up, trying to defend himself. "I don't fear jail because I know what you bunch are capable of."

"Robert Floyd! Did you only marry me cause you thought I'd kill you?!" Birdie shouts, turning to glare at her husband.

"No! I love you! I do!" Bob panics, trying to dig out of the hole he got himself in. "But I definitely don't wanna be on the receiving end of one of Em's special recipes."

"BOB!!!" Em, Birdie, and hell even I shouted at him, knowing that was definitely something he was not supposed to tell me.

"I'm gonna go shower now." Bob mutters, walking towards the master bedroom.

"I swear I'm gonna—"

"Let us leave before you go all Hera on his ass." Em laughs as she pulls me to the front door. I'm still processing everything she told me as we enter our home.

My girlfriend—my wife— is THE Persephone, the leader of the Furies. The woman who has been avoiding capture at my hand for years now. The love of my life is who I've been chasing this entire time. Holy shit.

"You okay over there?" Her voice drags me from my thoughts. I look up to see her staring at me expectantly. 

"I'm okay, I think?" 

"Are you asking me if you are okay?" She laughs, stepping up to me. Her hazel eyes still sparkle the way they always have, but especially since she now has the diamond ring I got paired with her now. This is still my Emory, not the known vigilante that I've been hunting for years. 

"No. I'm okay." I smile at her. 

"So... the handcuffs are still for in the bedroom and not for arresting me right?" She asks, smiling as she slowly pulls me towards our room. It's only then that I realize how painfully hard I am.

"Please stop talking. My dick is hard and I'm so confused as to why." Emory laughs at my statement, stopping in her tracks as she snorts, doubling over from her laughter. "This isn't funny Em! I'm conflicted!"

As she calms down she looks up at me with lust filled eyes. "At least you know that I don't entirely hate you for all the times you shot at me." She shrugs casually and walks into the room leaving me standing there in shock, her hips swaying a little more. 

Then it hits me. Some of the nights that we had the greatest sex— it was right after I had a shootout with the Furies. She would jump me the minute we were both home and my god—

"Don't you dare start without me, sweets!"

Taglist: (tagging those who might interested, join the taglist to keep being tagged or to be tagged next time) @mamachasesmayhem @eternalsams @sarahsmi13s @hookslove1592 @sailor-aviator @callsign-magnolia @goldenseresinretriever @callsigns-haze @some-lovely-day @buckysteveloki-me @bradleybeachbabe @lovinglyeternal @footprintsinthesxnd @ohtobeaspettyasleah @untoldshortsofthefandoms

Mama may's Everything tags: @aviatorobsessed @callsigncurse @teacupsandtopgun @trickphotography2 @thedroneranger @sweetwhispersofchaos @capoteera @hardballoonlove @buckysdollforlife @kmc1989 @seresinhangmanjake @shanimallina87 @dizzybee03 @hisredheadedgoddess28 @lynnevanss @jynxmirage @na-ta-sh-aa @whatislovevavy @dingochef @dempy @dckweed @just-in-case-iloveyou @tgmreader @djs8891 @marvelousnightjengale @soulmates8 @sorchathered

[reikunrei]

I'm not gonna make as in-depth a post about it as my other DW analyses, but a month or so ago I watched the season 1 episode "Dalek" and now I'm thinking about it in relation to what Vecna's ending might look like.

A lot of people complain when they hear folks (such as myself and my friends) say they want Vecna's end to be tragic in some way. They interpret it as us saying we want him to be redeemed, or forgiven, or be made into a "good guy" who actually did nothing wrong, or whatever. Which (setting aside all the Henry/Edward stuff, which I'd argue is a separate discussion anyway) isn't the case at all. Not necessarily, at least. Vecna has done a lot of heinous things that can't be overlooked.

However, that doesn't mean he's entirely unsympathetic. He's very relatable in his motives and is a fun way to explore revenge and justice in the extremes. He's an example of the cracks in the Capital S System. However, I would agree that Vecna as a person and as a concept shouldn't be given a full pass on everything he's done just because his reasoning has a strong foundation.

"Dalek" offers a really interesting alternative where the Dalek in the episode is given multiple chances to "redeem" itself or is shown sympathy, only to constantly push back against it and refuse the kindness offered to it up until the very end. Even so, its eventual self-destruction is still tragic.

This is for multiple reasons, but the one I want to introduce here first to set the tone is: It's tragic because there's no changing what's been done to the Dalek, what the Dalek has done, and the general circumstances of what a Dalek is and their history. Rose wants to help the Dalek, but it's simply not feasible given the circumstances.

So, let's get into some of this episode.

We open on the Doctor and Rose landing in an underground bunker in Utah, USA, having followed a signal "calling for help." Inside this bunker are rows and rows of glass cases containing extraterrestrial artifacts, owned and collected by a man named Henry van Statten. We learn that one of these is a live specimen, which van Statten keeps in "The Cage," where they've been attempting to get it to speak for some time, often resorting to physically harming it and making it scream. Okay, NINA silo.

The Doctor goes in to speak to it, since van Statten wants to know what it is, and we get this exchange:

Some abridged Doctor Who history to explain this interaction: The Daleks are an alien race that's been around for the entire run of the show, first introduced in the original series. As it pertains to the 2005 reboot, early in the show we learn that the Doctor is the last Time Lord in existence because all of them died in the Last Great Time War. The Last Great Time War was fought between the Time Lords and the Daleks, and it was ultimately ended by the Doctor themself killing (or sealing away) both the Time Lords and the Daleks to stop the conflict and save the universe(s).

The Daleks and the Time Lords have had beef for... basically forever, as far as I know. The Daleks also make multiple returns throughout the rest of the series and still remain a recurring antagonist, though I don't know what's been going on with them past like... season 7 or so. We even get a few more sympathetic portrayals of them, but we don't need to talk about that today.

I should also briefly explain here that the Daleks were bred and evolved to hate. They exist only to kill things that aren't Daleks because they see anything that isn't a Dalek as "wrong." They have such a strong will to live in order to push this regimen that they almost don't die, as their bodies will simply refuse to do so, unless ordered or killed by force. Okay, Vecna. In short: they basically only know hatred and anger, and anything else simply isn't part of their genetics. There's some nuance to this in the greater lore, but I won't touch on that here because it's not introduced in this episode.

Anyway, back to the episode!

Once the Doctor realizes that the Dalek is damaged and can't actually kill him, he starts laying into it, circling it and asking "What are you good for?" and "What's the point of you? You're nothing." The Dalek says it's awaiting orders (something it's bred for), and the Doctor breaks the news that all the other Daleks have been destroyed by him and it won't be getting any orders.

Admitting to his own self-hatred, the Doctor switches on the chains holding the Dalek, electrocuting it. The Dalek begs for pity, and the Doctor says, "Why should I [have pity]? You never did." Then, van Statten enters The Cage with guards and pulls the Doctor out, at which point the Dalek returns to refusing to speak.

The Doctor speaks to van Statten more, telling him about the Time War, learning how the Dalek fell from the sky "like a meteorite" and surmising that it must have fallen through time as the only survivor. And at this point, van Statten smugly eyes up the Doctor, now knowing that he, too, is an alien not of this Earth, and chains him up to be studied and tortured just like the Dalek. There's honestly so much I could say about van Statten and his similarities to Brenner, so I might do that some other time.

Meanwhile, Rose, who's been tagging along with van Statten's assistant, unaware of what's happened thus far, sees security footage of the Dalek being tortured by one of van Statten's scientists and goes to The Cage to investigate and try to help.

She talks to the Dalek, asking if it's in pain, saying that she can help because she has her friend, the Doctor, with her. The Dalek says yes, it is in pain.

Rose continues to insist they help, but the Dalek says that its race is dead and it will simply die alone. Rose places a gentle hand against its "head," which burns her, and as she pulls away, that Dalek shouts, "Genetic material extrapolated. Initiate cellular reconstruction."

Having gotten DNA from Rose, a time traveler, the Dalek is able to regenerate, fixing all of its damage and breaking free of its chains before hacking out of The Cage and gaining access to the entire bunker. In short, it starts killing people indiscriminately and drains all power from the bunker, from Utah, and from the entire west coast of the USA, also downloading all of the information from the internet at the same time.

Most of the rest of the episode is an extended chase scene, where Rose and the assistant, Adam, are trying to get up to a higher level of the bunker, though are often relegated to stairwells and detours in an attempt to keep the Dalek locked away as deep as possible. At one point, Rose and Adam are being escorted by an armed guard when they come face to face with the Dalek in a stairwell, and the armed guard starts trying to talk it down:

Martin "but but but I locked you kids up because I loved you" Brenner, over here.

The first major hint that we start to see something is awry with the Dalek is it and Rose making eye contact, and Rose leaving the interaction feeling like the Dalek saw her as more than just a target for extermination, and rather that "it knows [her]."

Then, after some more chasing and some more mass murder, the Dalek addresses the Doctor. It says that, now with no place to get orders from, it will follow "the Primary Order," or the "Dalek instinct to destroy" and conquer. The Doctor asks why, though. What's the point of doing that at this point when it's the only Dalek left? The Dalek can't answer that and just asks what it should do, wherein we get this impeccable line that aired on public television in the year 2005:

He rips into the Dalek again, really showing his anger as he screams, "Why don't you just die!?" at which point the Dalek responds with, "You would make a good Dalek" before ceasing communication. Mic drop of the goddamn century!!! That scene still drives me absolutely batshit. Anyway.

Rose and Adam are rushing to try and escape the vault portion of the bunker, but they're running out of time. Adam makes it through the final door as it's shutting, but Rose doesn't and is now trapped with the Dalek. Rose talks to the Doctor over her cellphone, telling him that it wasn't his fault and she wouldn't have missed any of this for the world. The Dalek fires its laser, the call drops, and the Doctor reluctantly accepts that she's dead.

However, unbeknownst to him, the Dalek didn't actually kill Rose.

They have a brief back-and-forth, and Rose questions the Dalek's hesitation to kill her.

The Dalek speaks to the Doctor again, revealing that Rose is actually alive and uses her as leverage to get him to open the bulkhead and let the two of them out. Rose pleads with the Doctor to not open the door, but the Dalek uses the Doctor's emotions against him, saying, "What use are emotions, if you will not save the woman you love?"

Rose and the Dalek take an elevator up to where the Doctor and van Statten & co. are hanging out, with the Dalek all the while continuing to act strangely.

The Dalek approaches van Statten, threatening to kill him for torturing it, but Rose tells it not to do it, and it listens. She asks it what else it could want that doesn't involve killing, and the Dalek answers with "freedom." Vecna when...

Rose takes the Dalek ahead, closer to the surface. It blasts a hole in the roof, bringing in a ray of sunlight. Rose says she thought she'd never feel it again, at which point the Dalek asks what it feels like before opening its metal casing to expose the actual Dalek inside. It feels the sun on its skin and reaches out toward the light.

In this moment of vulnerability, the Doctor appears, having grabbed one of the alien-made guns that van Statten has in a feeble attempt to actually kill the Dalek. He yells at Rose to get out of the line of fire, but she refuses, even when he tries to justify it with the number of people the Dalek killed that day, or the fact that it was the Dalek race that created the downfall of the Time Lords. She urges the Doctor to pause and just look at what the Dalek is doing.

Love a good TFS word.

The Dalek asks, "Why do we survive?" and the Doctor doesn't have an answer. When the Dalek once again says that it's the last of its kind, the Doctor explains that it no longer is a Dalek. Having absorbed Rose's DNA for its regeneration, it's begun mutating into something new. Rose asks why that wouldn't be a good thing, but, as I explained earlier, it's because Daleks view themselves as superior, so if they're no longer a Dalek, then they're not worth living.

The Dalek is experiencing human thoughts and emotions, ones that it can't, nor wants, to comprehend, and it asks Rose to order it to die, saying that "This is not life. This is sickness. I shall not be like you!" With some more pushing, Rose finally relents, quietly saying, "Do it."

Guy who says he's not gonna go as in-depth before proceeding to do so anyway. But trust me, I could say a lot more about this episode, I just wanna keep this brief and explore this one concept without the plethora of off-topic potential references.

I hope you can see some of the bones of what I'm getting at in how this could potentially be applied as inspiration for ST5, but let's get into some of my thoughts.

1) Paralleling the Doctor and the Dalek

This is something I've talked about in a lot of my other DW posts so I won't rehash it too much, but it's incredibly telling to me that we, once again, get this emphasis on muddying the waters between "good guy" and "bad guy."

Through the season, we've seen the Doctor grieving his people, constantly saying he's the last Time Lord in the universe and being generally depressed about it. We're very frequently reminded of how sad he is about it, and we're meant to be sad about it, too. More often than not, it's meant as a way to show a deeper bond between him and his companion whenever he shares that information.

Then, we meet this Dalek who is also the last of its kind in the universe, and who is also suddenly made to grieve the loss of its people. From the get-go, it's framed as a sympathetic creature begging for help as it's tortured, and only once the Doctor's bias is brought to light do we get any sort of inkling of an opposing stance.

Then, almost right away, we see their roles essentially swapped. Sure, the Dalek is a formidable opponent with an innate desire to kill everything it sees and perhaps maybe should be eliminated for the sake of the greater good. However, the Dalek is weak and vulnerable, with no way to defend itself, and the Doctor does the objectively shitty thing and tries to kill it while it's cornered. The entire episode has a bad ick about it. Even if the Doctor is technically justified, you still feel bad watching him take advantage of a situation to harm a defenseless creature.

The Dalek says it itself: the Doctor would make a good Dalek, allowing his hatred to drive him to make some morally fucked up decisions. He encourages his fear and rage to guide his hand, and it's not until he has an outside perspective - specifically from someone he cares about the opinion of immensely - that he backs down. If and when we get a similar scenario with Will and someone else having to talk him down... I'm seated.

In the end, it's hard to have sympathy for the Doctor without also extending that to the Dalek.

It very much makes me think of the larger fandom's perspective on Henry in ST, and how they'll dish out heaps of sympathy and empathy for the other characters, and even encourage them to do shitty things for the sake of "revenge" or "taking what they deserve," but then turn around and look at Henry's objectively worse situation and claim that he doesn't deserve that same courtesy simply because of a slightly less appealing past.

To specifically tie it to comparing the Doctor and the Dalek, I'm looking at how we're meant to compare Henry and Will to one another. We see two sensitive boys who come from imperfect households with a desire to be loved and accepted for who they are. We see them go through hardships beyond our imaginations and, the key here, is how their situations during and thereafter are different.

We see the perspective of the Doctor first, and we feel bad for him! When he attacks the Dalek, it feels justified given the history between their races. In ST, we see the perspective of Will first, learning everything he's been through, and thus when he says "we have to kill [Vecna]," it makes sense! We've been led to believe that everything that's happened to Will has been enabled by this one guy, so of course it's justified to want to put a stop to him, and we cheer on the other characters when they come to Will's aid.

But then we get the perspective of the Dalek. We see it admit that it's in pain, that it's sad, that it yearns for freedom and an end to its torture. In ST, we learn more about Vecna, about his (alleged) past, and the trials he's been through to shape him into who he is today, and his desire to make things better. It, then, also makes sense for these characters to react the way they do, even if it's not ideal, and even if their methods and motives aren't the most morally clean.

(I'd also be remiss if I didn't at least briefly tap in on the whole "perspective" thing with what James is discussing in his upcoming big thesis post about TFS. Definitely keep an eye out for it, because it's a super interesting exploration of perspective and how that paints certain behaviors/scenes in different lights than we may have initially been led to believe.)

When I first watched ST4, I wasn't in the fandom at all. I was entirely unaware of the vitriol being slung at Vecna and Henry. I watched him do all these inexcusable things, but then... we have NINA Henry explain what (allegedly) happened and why he is where he is, and I thought... oh.

We're told that this guy had a good reason for doing everything he did. Even if everything he's done is reprehensible, I still sat there thinking "wow, he didn't deserve any of that, everything could have been avoided if he was just treated with decency."

With the Dalek, even after we see what it's done, we're meant to feel bad for it. Should it be forgiven? Perhaps not, but it was just doing the only thing it knew how to do after being put in a situation by someone else (van Statten) that allowed it to do the damage that it did, much like Brenner essentially enabling the creation of Vecna by cornering a child into the lab and forcing his hand.

All in all, it really pushes you to accept that someone who is "good" can do bad things because they think it's what should be done, and someone who is "bad" can be offered a chance to change and become better, and it doesn't even have to be detraction if they refuse that help. And, ultimately, I wouldn't be surprised if Vecna is offered help, but refuses it because it's too late. Not because he's being petulant and stubborn, but because there's genuinely no point, much like with the Dalek (even if the Dalek is being more petulant and stubborn than anything).

2) Vecna and the Daleks

By no means do I want it to come off like I'm directly correlating Vecna to the Daleks. There's too many key differences, particularly in what they are, for me to do that with a straight face.

I already explained that Daleks are born and evolved to hate. That's the only emotion they feel, because anything else would give them doubt in their Primary Order. Meanwhile, Vecna very much is a person. Even if he's not fully human, there's a human core there that allows him to hesitate and feel something other than disdain for humanity (I will always and forever stare at the way he kept El alive. Sir, I know you're not that cocky. Just kill her. Unless she....... means something to you......?).

Throughout ST, everything that comes out of the UD is distinctly nonhuman. I remember very early on in ST4 thinking it was weird that they made something from the UD so close to human. So, even if we're led into the story believing that Vecna is something purely monstrous, by the end we're shown that he is, in fact, still a human and always has been a human.

It's similar, if not slightly inverted, to what happens with the Dalek in this episode: We open on this strange alien creature and learn it was the reason for the downfall of the Time Lords, but by the end, it's been infused with enough human DNA that it becomes even harder to treat it with cruelty.

And I know I said I wasn't going to get into the deeper lore of the Daleks, but I have to just mention one of the myths of their creation from the short story "We are the Daleks!" published in 1973:

So like... um... anyway... just chew on that a little bit, I guess!!

As a final note for this thought, I do also find it interesting that even their motives could be considered similar. The Daleks kill everything that isn't a Dalek. And, yes, it is because of hatred, but it's also specifically about guaranteeing their own survival and making the universe fit for them. Not too far off from that, we have Vecna wanting to reshape the world into what he wants it to be so that he can exist freely. It's not exactly one-to-one, especially given that Vecna's motives are more of a commentary on the flaws of society while the Daleks are committing a "racial cleansing" (the Doctor's words, not mine), but I'd be remiss to not at least touch on it.

3) Objective Perspective

Rose gives us a very stark show of what bias can do in this episode. She showed sympathy before she knew anything about the Dalek, and while she does become frightened and tries to flee from it, by the end of the episode she's managed to either fight against or accept her fear and continue to try and help the Dalek and show it kindness.

It reminds me a lot of what we see with D'art in ST2, to the point that Rose's experience is almost beat for beat what happens with Dustin:

Finding the demoslug and growing fond of it because he doesn't know what it is.

Becoming frightened when he learns it's a "baby demogorgon" and tries to trap it.

Learning that he can have a connection and cooperate with it even if he's still scared.

Even Will manages to fight against his fear, understanding that D'art is just in a vulnerable position and needs help more than anything.

On top of Rose's demeanor with the Dalek, we also get to study how she reacts to the Doctor as the episode progresses. By and large, she's disgusted with the way the Doctor is behaving, calling him out multiple times and begging him to see the bigger picture. He's hurt, of course, but he can't continue to resort to violence under the guise of being afraid when this Dalek is no longer the same as the Daleks he hates. She doesn't even fully understand that until the very end, and still she can see that it's changing and it's been deserving of compassion this whole time.

The Doctor and the Dalek both hate each other and hate themselves, and Rose is the only one who can cut in, generally understanding both sides of the argument, to get everyone to back down. She's viewed both the Doctor and the Dalek with a clean, unbiased lens, which allows her to take in all the information she's given without any sort of judgement clouding her decisions.

Sure, her fear does take over a few times, but it's almost exclusively when her life is in immediate danger and she never takes it out directly on the Dalek. As soon as the Dalek refuses to kill her, she can wrangle herself into at least trying to approach things calmly and objectively and attempt to talk the Dalek down rather than resorting to brute force.

It makes me wonder just how, exactly, this is going to go down for Vecna. We've been given a lot of information thus far, but everyone has a different set of pieces without a way to combine them correctly just yet, and there's so many personal stakes involved that it becomes hard to parse out what's really an objective reading.

Will has been personally affected by the UD and the MF, which also affected his immediate family and friends.

El lived in the lab for her whole life and knew Henry personally, and potentially was the catalyst for finally creating Vecna.

Brenner has a desire to make himself look good as he works for his own selfish gains, and puts others in harm's way to get there.

Multiple people have had their lives directly altered by something Vecna did.

Vecna himself has a mess of wrongs against him that he's desperate to "fix."

etc. etc...

It's really just a whole big mess, and it's going to take a lot of work for someone to break out of the personal feelings involved in order to get everyone on all sides to step back and do some self-reflecting.

It's interesting to me that "Dalek" is not only a lesson in sympathy for others, but a lesson in sympathy for oneself. It's a large part of the Doctor's arc in this first season, and sympathy in general has been a huge part of ST throughout the whole show (which I know I've talked about endlessly irt these comparisons to DW), and it's a sentiment becoming increasingly pushed on our "villain" characters.

Like how the Doctor is "brought down" to the Dalek's level of cruelty and the Dalek is "brought up" to the Doctor's level of deserving sympathy, our "villain" characters in ST are being brought up to the protagonists' level of deserving sympathy, and our protagonists...? Well, we've already been blessed with loads of imperfect "good" characters in this show thus far, so I will not be surprised when that gets taken to the extreme.

It's already in line with El's monster vs superhero internal debate: a good character can do something morally reprehensible, with or without "proper" motive, and they will still be deserving of compassion.

In conclusion, while obviously I don't think it'll be a one-to-one, I do think that this DW episode offers an interesting route for Vecna's arc to take, specifically in regard to his demise. While a character such as Henry or Edward, who were dragged into this situation against their will, might be deserving of forgiveness/clearing their names and may still be able to be "saved," in whatever form that may be, someone like Vecna might simply be too far gone. There's no going back at this point, and it just has to be accepted.

I was talking to James about this, and I agree when he said it wouldn't be surprising if Vecna was offered help, he earnestly thanked them for it, but then had to refuse it anyway. I wouldn't be shocked if El wants to help him so badly but ultimately has to accept that sometimes things can't be undone, and they simply have to run their course, even if it has an unsatisfactory outcome. Especially if that outcome was one that could have been avoided had they gotten to the problem sooner. That is the tragedy.

The Dalek is a bit more complicated than that, obviously, given what it is as a species and its refusal for help being because it sees no point in existing now that it's "contaminated," but I think you can pick up what I'm putting down. The Dalek could have accepted the help and could have striven to change like Rose thought it could, but it simply wasn't in the cards and would have caused more pain than not.

The Daleks come up again in future episodes, which I might talk about someday, but I felt like this one was a good exploration of what you can do with an established villain and flip the narrative until they're almost entirely sympathetic while our "good guy" seems ridiculous for behaving the way he does. It is not a stretch to apply that sentiment to ST, especially because we have even more of a foundation for compassion toward our "villains" in that show than the Dalek got in this episode.

I could talk a lot more about this episode, too. There's so many trains of thought that this inspired, but, again, I want to just talk about this topic for now, so all the weird "why is this so ST" bits can stay in the vault (or you can go watch the episode yourself, which I highly recommend! It's a good one).

Overall, just knowing that DW was some level of inspiration for ST makes me excited to see what the Duffers took from that classic series and how they'll use it to inform their own final season, and specifically how they'll further the "no one is special/better/worse" message they have going on. We'll see!

[jellytamalies]

here are some of my 2 am ramblings about batfam. Don’t mind all the spelling errors I was half asleep man

The characters should be based off some of the original tragedies/events that put them on their path. Not that they shouldn’t grow past them but it should reflect in who they are. 

Batman wasn’t made to fight rogues and world threatening disasters. Batman was born from an unlucky moment, where a simple random crook shattered someone’s world. Even if the police in Gotham weren’t corrupt it wouldn’t have mattered. It wasn’t part of some plot or scheme, they were just in the wrong place at the wrong time and something terrible happened. (In that way Batman is alike to Spider-Man, despite their very different dispositions.) Batman was made to protect people at those moments. He was made to protect people from the ground level crime lurking around. He was made to protect the people who couldn’t protect themselves. He would make sure no one else would be like that young boy in an empty alley as the witness to his parents deaths. Batman is a protector.

For Dick, Robin was made from something different. It was more about something fundamentally wrong in the world. His parents death was planned, as a result of an unchecked evil that simply exists through the world. He was made to fight that more organized crime; gangs, mobs and mafias, corrupt people and groups who went out of their way to hurt people for their own means. And that’s one main way he’s different from Batman. Robin was made to fight. And it shows in his own ruthlessness that no one, not even Batman or redhood, has. He’s a light because he chases away the darkness. 

For Jason, he didn’t have a single defining moment. It wasn’t one tragedy, it was a suffocating existence that slowly chocked him out and eventually ended with him dead. The place he was born, and the life he grew up in was messsed up because of multiple factors. It was something in the roots of Gotham(and everywhere else) that slowly poisoned the air. It was a system inefficient at really getting rid of the problems permanently that messed up crime ally, that made him lose his father to a life of crime and his mother to a drug addiction, and let the joker live to kill him. The Redhood (and partly Robin) was supposed to take care of those problems in a way the the previous system didn’t. He was a replacement (or repair) to the systems that had failed him.

Tim was different from all three. He wasn’t defined by loss. Even though both his parent died, that wasn’t what made him originally Robin. He was made to help. For him, Robin was never about fighting crime or saving civilians, it was about giving a point to hold onto, and be grounded on in the midst of grief. This shows. he doesn’t have the same burning motivation for a crusade against crime, he isn’t fighting, he’s supporting. He became Robin to stabilize Bruce. Unlike Dick his Robin wasn’t a light for Gotham, it was a light for Batman. Like a lantern guiding the way. He’s sociable and attracts (or captures, as he’s the one crashing into their lives) connections and people. He connects with everyone. People think Dick is the extrovert, but it’s Tim who is bonding people together. He not just a guiding light, he’s a campfire attracting people and bringing them together.

Damian never had a moment, it was more like a realization. Like Jason he had grown up in a horrid scenario but unlike him he didn’t realize till he was free. When he found out a better world, a better life, existed he fought for it. In multiple senses. In the beginning he thought he wasn’t worthy so he fought to keep his place; he thought he had to prove himself. When he realized he was a part of a family, and that world, he fought to protect it. Finally, as he opened up and connected with more people. His world expanded, and the people he included in it too. So he fought to protect them. He fought to give them a better world, and better life. When he came to care about Gotham and others, not just the people he was close to, he fought for them. He’s like Bruce in how he’s a silent protector, and a mirror of Dick through him protecting the light instead of fighting the dark. He’s unlike either in how he isn’t trying to spare others from a horrible thing he experienced, but instead trying to share a good thing he found. Damian is a guardian and a guide. 

There’s a thought that you become who you needed (or hated). Bruce became the guardian that would have saved his parents. Dick became the force that would have stopped zukko. Tim didn’t really need anything (except maybe a healthy role model) so he became what others needed. Damian became the guide that saved him (he became like Dick and his father and his family)

[distort-opia]

I always wonder how does joker manage to hold up in a fight with batman, hes usually depicted as a lanky guy, so how does he hold up going against the super buff tall man that bruce is?

That's an excellent question, and one comics have never been very keen on answering. Joker's fighting prowess tends to be what the plot needs it to be, but overall he's indeed been shown as capable of holding his own against Batman... when he actually puts his mind to it. Most of the time he enjoys getting the crap beaten out of him, so there's plenty of instances where Joker doesn't look like a challenging opponent. However, Joker's fought more people than just Batman, and he's been shown to be a good fighter.

With Joker's backstory and past being a mystery for so long, it's tough to say how exactly he came to be a skilled fighter. Now that the The Killing Joke backstory is canon (as per Flashpoint Beyond), one wonders how the broke comedian ended up being able to eventually last against Batman in a fight. My theory on this is rooted in my personal timeline of Joker's past, which is an amalgamation of multiple comics that have dealt with his origin stories. People tend to think "well, if TKJ is canon, then Zero Year or Streets of Gotham can't be true", but I believe all these stories do ultimately fit together. I've got a bigger meta post on the subject of Joker's past here, but the bottom line is-- there's canon support for Joker having lived on the streets and (unwillingly, and then possibly willingly) being part of the mob. After being placed in the foster care system, it's likely he continued being active in gangs and engaged in other criminal activities like robberies.

So, I think Joker learned how to fight in his youth out of necessity. After running away from home, he grew up in a very hostile environment. It wasn't something nearly as structured as Bruce's years of traveling and training with various masters; most likely, Joker had to learn how to fight in order to survive and protect himself. Although it's possible he did have some kind of training, if he grew up in such close proximity to gangs. Maybe that's how he got so good with knives.

It thus makes sense that Joker had a decent fighting background to begin with, and as the years went by he got better and better. I haven't gotten around to making a second part to the meta about Joker's past (yet), but what follows is that, after being placed in foster care, Joker eventually tried to have a normal life. He finished highschool, he went to university and graduated, then got a job at ACE Chemicals. He married Jeannie... and then everything went to shit again. To be honest, I like this because it makes a lot of narrative sense, and tragically so. Unlike Bruce, Joker never had a normal life, or a normal family. He started out as the opposite to Batman, once again-- in poverty, with an abusive and hateful family that he either killed or ran away from. So eventually he tried to have a family of his own. He tried to be happy and stay away from crime, but following his dreams was impossible without money and resources, so he went back to it... and then Jeannie and his unborn child died. No wonder he broke. And after falling into the acid vat and becoming Joker, he also gained what's undoubtedly a very high pain tolerance, and some kind of metahuman durability (because he's survived so many lethal situations it's ridiculous, at this point).

So! If you combine masochism, high pain tolerance, a street fighting background and a complete lack of fear, you get Joker's hand-to-hand combat style. He's got this advantage over his opponents as well; he doesn't get scared, and pain doesn't stop him the way it would most people. He's thus very unpredictable.

It has to be said though, that Joker doesn't like getting his own hands dirty. He has goons, people that do the hard work for him, sidekicks. He uses laughing gas, acid sprays, hand buzzers, he uses guns and other long-distance weaponry a lot. As a character, Joker was never meant to be a match for Batman's bulk and fighting prowess-- the point is exactly that he isn't, and yet still manages to win. At his core, Joker is more of a mastermind, a brilliant manipulator with heaps of charisma; hand-to-hand combat is rarely his method of choice.

[absolutely-esme]

My ghost biology head canon

I've found that sharing my head canons is a lot of fun, so I thought I would share more of my thoughts on ghosts.

First off, I imagine the particulars of how ghosts work being something that varies widely. There are some things that are relevant for everyone, but a lot of things that you would expect to be species-wide constants vary based on the individual.

Each person's experience as a ghost is shaped by their particular mind and what works for them, with some minor influence from their ideas about ghosts. While their assumptions/beliefs about ghosts can influence how they function as a ghost, it will never override their own nature and cause them to develop into something antithetical to their own self.

Do ghosts need to eat? Some do. Some don't.

Do ghosts need to sleep? Some do. Some don't.

Are ghosts bound to a place or object? Some are. Some aren't.

I imagine that some ghosts have cores that function like a brain/heart/whatever, are their one vulnerability, and injuries to them are serious business, like the fandom likes to imagine. I don't personally think this would be true across the board. Some would have cores that operate differently and others would have a system that doesn't have anything similar to cores at all.

Some ghosts might have something that could be called a core, but rather than a delicate vital organ, it's more like a combination of a lifeboat and the black box from an airplane. It's small and not especially powerful but virtually indestructible. If their body gets messed up too badly they can jettison themselves as a core and hide away somewhere safe until they manage to rebuild their body.

I imagine Skulker working like this. The "real Skulker" is not a tiny blob sitting in a cockpit, piloting a giant robot. When he's all suited up, he's experiencing things as the man-sized being he appears to be. That said, if he gets roughed up to the point where it makes more sense to just cut his losses, he can go tiny-blob-mode and bail before rebuilding himself.

Some ghosts exist split among multiple bodies because some parts of themselves work better separately. I imagine Johnny 13 and his Shadow are actually one ghost, but there were parts of himself he didn't understand and wasn't managing well that he was better equipped to understand and accommodate as a separate being. Johnny probably fought a lot with shadow when he was newly formed before stepping back and finally managing to view him with a sort of empathy that is often easier to offer to others than to oneself.

The particulars of Danny's ghost half were largely shaped by the dance of give and take between his human and ghost half adapting together. A lot of it either follows the lines of his human half or fills in the gaps, but it also follows Danny's nature in ways that always would have been part of his ghostly self even if he hadn't been a halfa. Being the child of ghost hunters actually left Danny with less of an idea of what ghosts were than the average person because he actively avoided thinking about it as much as he could, so a lot of his ideas about ghosts stem from his own personal experiences. His ghostly nature is fluid and highly adaptable, as well as eager to learn and explore.

Sometimes he develops abilities similar to things he's seen other ghosts do because "that's something ghosts can do." Sometimes he develops abilities as a response to whatever stress he's under (Danny will never admit he developed accelerated language acquisition because he was so stressed out about his grades that his ghost half interpreted the need to better understand purple-backed gorillas as a life or death emergency). Some just happen just because he grew that way.

Ghosts in general are not static. They learn and grow and change over time. The particulars of how they change over time are a bit less predictable than for humans, but it happens. They can have children (like Box Lunch) but the development of those children may not follow the same patterns as a human child's development.

I don't tend to imagine ghosts having "obsessions," exactly. The term "obsession" implies that it is unhealthy, overpowering, and impeding one's ability to function. Instead, I imagine them having something I'm calling "focal points" until I come up with a better name.

Focal points are things that are important, grounding, and central to a ghost's experience of the world. They may be activities or subjects of interest, but ghosts need to engage with at least some of their focal points with relative frequency for their health. Ghosts generally have more than one focal point and engage with different ones at different times.

Being denied access to one focal point in the short run will be disappointing but not dangerous, so long as they can still engage with others. Long-term, lack of access to one of their focal points can cause restlessness, anxiety, irritiability, and depression.

In some cases, a long-term inability to engage with a specific focal point may result in a focal shift, in which the focal point changed to something more reachable. This happens most frequently with a focal point centered on a person who is not willing to cooperate. While the focal shift is ongoing, the ghost will be atypically sensitive and prone to mood swings and experience an amount of discomfort proportional to how major of a focal point they are shifting. After the focal shift is over, the ghost should be able to function normally with no lingering ill-effects.

Not every focal point can be shifted and ghosts are highly recommended to seek council from a professional in ghost-medicine on any focal point related difficulties before making any decisions on how to proceed.

If not managed in a healthy way, it is possible for a ghost's relationship with one or more of their focal points to start bridging into obsessive territory, but this is the result of a problem, not normal functioning.

[faces-ofvenus]

you will not regret it

Author's notices: 18+ content eventually, less don't read, the hot part, and if you prefer, there is fluffy and Angst content in my profile.

for my love: @mrsgrwy

You didn't really understand why you were forcing yourself to go to that party, they were a class totally above you, rich and fake people who will treat you well as long as they keep extracting everything, as long as you could be useful to them, this doesn't suit you, this is suffocating enough for you, but still you were there, going against all your thoughts.

Taking another glass of champagne of a brand you surely would never have tasted in other places, at other parties, but this one was not normal, it was a Targaryen party, more specific, the birthday of your friend's mother, you didn't know exactly why Jacaerys invited you, you interacted a few times with his mother, Rhaenyra, eccentric name like every Targaryen, was a kind woman, but kinder than most of the pompous idiots you had to meet.

You knew only Jacaerys and your brother and it seemed they were both too busy, to give you any attention, you mentally cursed Jace, what was he thinking, inviting you to a party he knew you didn't know anyone but him, and leaving you here, planted, beside the drinks table.

You were about to leave just waiting to finish everything that was in your glass, not you were going to make the best of the situation, drink and eat as much as you could, not that the food was great, it was such exotic and weird dishes, it looked disgusting and not tasty at all.

Maybe nothing in that big crowded room was going to take your attention away, not maybe one thing, maybe strange hands reaching around your waist and pulling you back, making you slam your back against the man's chest, if it took another second maybe you would go crazy and turn around and punch whatever the hell the guy was, bastard and cuckold who had the audacity to do that, and the whiskey mint breath so characteristic of him didn't have the delivery man, right next to your ear, with his chin almost resting on one of your shoulders.

— I didn't know you were coming, has anyone ever said that you simply look like a goddess?

Aegon that bastard, what to expect from him, if not this intrusion, but honestly his fingers on your belly, and the hot breath in your ear were making you feel so hot, your heart too....m what the fuck were you with thinking!!!

Moving quickly away from your "attacker" you would say abused son of a bitch, but that word works too, you could see his slight pout very well, as he saw you take your hands off his body, not that he fought back, his face quickly seemed to pull itself together, with a teasing smile.

— What were you thinking, grabbing me like that, you idiot?

Usually you would be nice, but maybe in this situation he didn't deserve you, you had already swallowed too much of Aegon Targaryen filling your patience in Advanced Calculus classes (you don't even understand why the hell he was doing it, since he didn't seem to be good at a simple multiplication sum, let alone the last subject, maybe filling your patience, testing how far he could push you with his questions, obvious and sometimes testing not only your intelligence but his as well) now you had to put up with his pretty face... Fuck no, really, maybe it's the alcohol in your system finally kicking in at the worst possible moment.

— Don't treat me like that, because I know you want me as much as I want you, you can't deny it, what's between us.

You kept a considerable distance from him, even though the sensation of their hands still seemed to make your body burn, you cursed Jacaerys once more, your eyes never left his, he looked so provocative, it was his mission to make you angry and get some reaction out of you with that sentence, and that demon didn't succeed, not seeming to have the right words, even for a layman like Aegon, it was easy for him to realize what he caused, this only gave him more freedom, his smile increased, like a damned rogue, getting closer to you.

Before he could do anything, which honestly you don't know if you would have the willpower to go against, you saw out of the corner of your eye none other than Jacaerys and Lucerys talking, that idiot had really forgotten about you, but it would do, you moved away, from Aegon quickly which left him confused, surely he had thought you were finally going to fall into his clutches.

- Unfortunately I don't have time for your antics right now, I'm off to flirt with some other poor unsuspecting soul.

And before waiting for an answer you quickly left and went to meet your Velaryon boys, thanking whatever divine force took you out of that conversation, it seemed that the devil himself was tempting you, wanting you to fall into the clutches of a cursed and really sexy feline, one day Aegon will get the worst of you, you knew you couldn't continue with this little game.

You cursed in every name possible, the people who curse you, because you couldn't possibly be that unlucky, could you.

— What the fuck is so bad, that I could have done to someone to deserve this, - You tried to clean the purplish stain of some unfortunate's expensive wine that got on your dress.

You could even hear Jacaerys' voices of regret, he was going to take you to his room to give you some of his blouse to try to cover up, but some "duty" called him first, yes you wanted to cry, why were you having this horrible night, just for trying to do a favor for a friend!!!? You didn't even notice when you bumped into someone, yes of course to make the whole situation better, you would have to explain why you were on the bedroom floor, where it would obviously be too much of a convenience, your gaze was low, shame and anger struggling to see which emotion was predominant at that time

— Look, I'm sorry... I was just trying to clean this fucking stain... — You cursed yourself for wanting to cry.

— You still look beautiful with it. — You looked up quickly, yes it could only have been him, it seemed like some kind of destiny, or a possible stalking.

You rolled your eyes, a gesture that only made Aegon crack a small smile, not as big as the one in the previous encounter, but he seemed a little upset.

— How can you still flirt with me in this situation hmm - you were tired of pretending not to be interested in ignoring or not talking to him. — And it's just as strange that you're here and not stuffed into some whiskey bottle as I am here in the — forbidden wing.

— So I guess we're both doing things we wouldn't normally do, is that a sign, hmm, — again he approached you, this time you didn't try to run away or turn away, he came close to you and his hands encircled your waist, — Maybe something wants us right now.

— I didn't know Aegon Targaryen believed in fate and divine beings — You teased him, but your heart was pounding like drums, the way he pulled you close to him, how obviously you weren't in control of the situation, and honestly didn't even want to be, as your faces drew closer together

— And your lips came together, you didn't pull back, just going in, your two hands on either side of his body, while his other hand went to your face, just deepening your faces.

As things started to heat up, Aegon pushed you into the wall, the thud made you let out a loud sigh, which caused him to deepen the kiss, after which you parted breathlessly, your head was in millions, and honestly you couldn't describe the feelings you were feeling, you wanted to pull away, you wanted to stay, why does he confuse you so much, little deeper kisses were exchanged between you, your hands around his neck, pulling him down, and against his lips.

You weren't even thinking now, when his hands slid to the zipper on the back of your dress, that made you quickly turn away from him and look around, Aegon gave you a confused look, his sudden detachment as if you were afraid of something.

— We can't do this... Not here.

Aegon let out a smile with his answer, it wasn't a problem for him, he's taken a girl in worse places, but you weren't every girl, he should keep that in mind, taking your waist quickly he looked around, honestly he knew little of your sister's house, so any room would do, wouldn't it! Guiding you to the first door in front of you.

— Wait, this is your room. — before you could say anything you were quickly silenced with a kiss and Aegon pushed you lightly onto the huge soft bed in front of you, he gave you a teasing smile, and yes you knew the answer, he is a damn pervert, and you didn't understand why you were enjoying all this, maybe you are too.

You took off your clothes, quickly the excitement growing inside you, the way he looked at you, yes it was making you so hot, any irrational thoughts fleeing your mind completely, as you were witnessing the way his body climbed on top of yours, as his hands rested on either side of your body, his hands moved to his hair pulling the falling locks from his face.

Lilac eyes, unusual, divine, because he pulled so many sensations out of you, it was unfair, the way he longed for you, but was just waiting for your cue to strike, like a beautiful hungry dragon, but you were not just easy prey.

— Maybe I'll just regret it. — You were stopped by his lips.

— Just let me prove to you that no, you will never regret it.

The way one of his hands went to your womanhood, making circular motions, and drew sighs and moans from you, your whole body seemed on fire, hot, eager, when one of his fingers passed through your slit, you moaned low. Aegon didn't take a minute of his eyes off you, watching all your reactions, just with his fingers, between your legs it was hot, yes, he pulsed just at the thought and also at the fact that you looked so inviting.

Aegon was tempted to tease you, as his fingers put some pressure on your slit, drawing low moans from you, he quickly pulled it out, and returned to pleasure your clit, you gave him an ugly look, which drew innocent smiles from your lips, before you could retort, you felt one of his enter abruptly inside you.

— A...Aegon, you... — he gave you a little silent signal, as he increased the speed and thrust another one inside you, groaning at the sensation, from his fingers, you squeezed him in a way that not even the greatest erotic dreams he had of this moment could satisfy him.

The way you leaned on the sheets, how you moaned his name, how your legs and fingers twitched slightly, he loved it all, it was different, he longed for more to feel you.

When he pulled his fingers out of you, you cursed low, it was good, it was horrible to admit, but your fingers never gave you as much satisfaction as his, you saw him take a condom from his pocket, and raised an eyebrow.

— WOW, don't judge me, you never know, do you!!! - you would be angry yes, he had already "prepared" this night and if not with you it would be with someone else, but his indignant and guilty face made you laugh low, he leaned in quickly and stole kisses from your lips — Don't spoil the mood love.

When he put on the condom, you honestly started to get nervous, yes this wasn't your first time, but you weren't the type to fuck right and left, you weren't his type, you weren't trained on the Kamasutra.

Aegon noticed some of her nervousness, if not in her face, in how her body behaved, he was between her thighs, his hands caressed her.

— You don't know how much I've been dreaming of this moment, no one has ever satisfied me more than my dreams of you, no one. — He looked at you with a sincerity you had never seen before, as if to calm your nerves, and it worked.

— Then why are you taking so long, don't tell me you've already changed your mind. — The lust and desire to have him might be overcoming your nervousness, just maybe.

He chuckled softly, yes he wouldn't waste any more time, slowly entering you, that was enough to draw moans from you, Aegon was never one to hide his voice, and honestly he wouldn't do that now, his head was full with just the thoughts of being inside you.

— Fuck...it's just fucking — He didn't know what to say as you squeezed and took him so tightly, your hands on either side of his body, you leaned on his waist, he lowered himself slightly bringing your lips together as he thrust deeper inside you.

You moaned into the kiss, your nails clenched and clawed, lips touched, hungry, longing whenever you let each other, your eyes never letting go of each other, as your climax came your moans and whispers grew louder.

— Fuck...Aegon...me. — Yes, you didn't have to say that you knew exactly what it was.

You let out your last curses, until your eyes for the first time shifted from theirs, looking up at the ceiling above you, your release coming as a sigh of relief, Aegon continued to pound you, the feeling of you squeezing him with your release pushing him to the limit, you let out low moans with the over stimulation, when he came you regretted the protection a little, as this was obviously a contact you now craved, he moaned out loud his hot breath hitting your breasts.

He lay down beside you, but pulled you to lean on him, you were sweaty and tired, yes you still didn't understand why you were at this shitty party, but this situation could make up for everything, but obviously it was over, you freed yourself quickly from his arms, and already stood up to put on your clothes, his fingers gripping you that stopped him, you glanced up at his face showing his confusion.

— Where do you think you're going hm?

— To my place obviously!

You said simply, you wanted to leave indifferently, you wouldn't treat yourself like a silly girl in love, no, getting up, he got up together, and dressed with you, this time it was your turn to look at him.

— And where do you think you're going?

— To your house, obviously! — You look at him in amazement, not only at the clear boldness in his voice.

— I'm not one of your toys anymore, Aegon.

— And I don't think you're one of my toys, honey, I meant it that day, I really like you, and I want something serious. — You laughed out loud, it sounded like a well-told joke — thought you'll only believe this when I move in with you, hmm, should I bring more clothes, or, we won't need them!

He came close to you, his hand traveling to your waist, when he pulled you closer, your faces almost touching, when his head tilted closer, you were in disbelief about everything, but his serious look, and maybe your little heart that longed for him, were speaking louder, yes you would regret it so much, no matter what he said.

— Let's go then, but you'll have to take your car," Aegon opened the biggest smile in the world, almost like a child getting a present. — Don't have too much fun, I can still change my mind.

He tried to lessen the smile, giving her one last kiss on the lips and going to get the car from the garage, but before he left he threw the top off his blazer.

— As much as I like the way your bra looks on this dress, it's not something I want to share anymore.

[lamentingocean]

the winner is mongrang x reader. But a big twist to it.

___________________

MONGRANG X READER.

____________________

you were a pretty girl. grown into an age of when provinces and masters were under the hands of you. it sickened you to the point of when being under the hands of a master had you become a true realist. your mother.

Your village. control is one thing to use in such displeasure and dangerous acts. but the echoing screams of enslaved people that didn't fall under the rule. were tortured and taken into executions. but you didn't want to be controlled since we supposedly humans with an immune system controlling us. us as humanoid meat covering our soul like an apple with worms inside of it. you batted your chinese fan to let the air swoosh to your makeup embedded face.

ignoring the time, going out at night to see two opposites argue with each other. but these two opposites had a different power to them. one was crazy and mentally unwell. and one used and took women into his room to have a great time fucking their pussy for free.

That was mongrang.

your face turned disgusted by the mere presence of his face inside your head. like a VHS tape you broke before but still continuously played the footage. he was a red flag.

had the beauty of women give him motivation and happiness enough to satisfy his needs. but he had an enemy that isn't like that at all. and it kinda fascinated you about these two beings.

Jaha lee.

He is an extremely insane but handsome young man who rules a clan. doing usurpation upon the previous leader. they were both hot, but your taste for men is halfway ruined by booze-drinking older men.

Without respect and with a disgusting stench to them. Reaching to get a hot beauty to benefit their lives. but it doesn't work that way.

you ordered pho and sat down with your hanfu kissing the wood of the benches. you looked around the town in your vision. Booze, wine, beautiful men with evil in them, and women that rests their naked body onto many men. a fabric of DNA shared too much.

the bowl of broth and noodles went across your nose. standing you down. trying not to eat it unprofessional. It's ridiculous to be proper for the public eye.

Eat like a pig? Get judged and get called piggy.

eat proper? You are such a true lady.

you scoffed. reaching to your chopsticks to the pool of broth in the bowl. gender is such a stupid hassle to come across. Why do I need to pay attention to how I eat, and why do i need to do it just for the nonexistent stares of humanity's issues and problems? confusion struck your mind when you ate it properly.

you saw a man with long light chocolate colored hair sit across from you. the stares of the women when directly at you, like you interrupted their need to fangirl at the beauty of a man. Even the girl right next to him shot you a stare of such disrespect and thoughts of "why is she sitting with this bitch?"

he tried talking to you. with his beautiful eyes attempted to struck your heart. it's like a video game. It was blue. and it was pretty. but also multiple questions had to wash over your brain.

"what is he doing here?"

'Did he see me when he fought with that jaha guy?"

"Men are such rats. Why is trying to talk to me?"

his deep voice cleared it all like clouds.

"I believe I met you 2 months ago. I thought you were pretty. But I don't know why you decided to avoid me."

you chewed the meat from the meal.

"Get to the point. why are you talking to me?"

"I wanted to take you on a walk. to try and get to know you better.. despite your hatred for men."

"You... want to take me out?? You answer in a tone of rejection. he seemed kind, but inside of all, that kindness is a red flag.

"ahaha. I didn't mean to upset you. but come here. I need to tell you something."

"You have already done. now. leave my sight. I need to go home anyway. " That sentence hit him hard like a knife. since he really wanted to talk to you after his fight with jaha. but so mysterious to disappear right after their destructive fight.

the pervert demon reaching for a hand of such mystery.

"Wait." he grabbed your hand. right when he did. you scoffed in disgust. thinking about how many many men tried to get with pretty women. and then try so hard to reach for their pretty plum lips.

"let me go."

"Please talk to me. if you don't want to. Then I respect your answer. but please??"

the whispers and stares were directly to you again. like you split a drink or spilled pho all over your hanfu. it was judgemental and sour. but you had to suck it up and act accordingly to the most beautiful man in this town.

"Fine. fine."

He then grabbed your entire body and flew away in so much speed. It was so surprising. a pervert with such power. and a pervert that shit his man to a man with insanity on his toes. ahh. such misfortune. it was the lake he washed himself with.

the shit particles in this beautiful river. way to mess up beauty in nature.

"Did you bring me here to flirt with me like you insufferable men always do during your lives or to make me your girlfriend?"

"it's not like that at all. those women I hung out with back there is only using me for reputation and money... sick of it."

"very surprised of one person that sticks their cock inside women."

"Do you want me to be honest or not?" his entire personality changed. like he got revamped. always having motivation towards women, but it's much different from you than before.

"be honest."

"Your beauty caught me off gaurd when I was fighting that maniac. it wasn't like usual when i saw women in general. you actually had a unique personality when I saw you. all I'm saying is that. I don't know much about you. But I want to know more about you."

"tch typical." You turned your head from the face of what he's saying is genuine. but it actually made you feel something from that. you only had spoken to him in such a rude attitude. even when he spoke to you back then. so. Maybe give a chance?

"I dealt with men from all across China. when I traveled through our land. from the shanxxi province to the Shanghai province. It's not that different anymore coming from you. so please...I don't need to deal with one more."

"You are actually the woman that I was in need to speak with. you are the woman that I wanted to know more about. it was a urge at the point. but now that I have finally got you , this is what I get in return?" his words flinched you a bit. the more he spilled what he felt. the more you felt that feeling waiting to be leaked out.

"I'm sorry, mongrang. But I don't know how to feel.. I feel like you are the same as all the other men. and I'm afraid. I'm afraid that every man that I date with cheat on me or betray me with a girl that I don't even know. I don't want to suffer through that.."

he leaned on the railing to his hair, morfing like little brown webs. a shade of pink starts to come closer to color your face with it.

"I can understand you. many of us...I guess we either don't know our boundaries or don't respect them. I'm so sorry you don't want to suffer through that. many of the women back there is a bunch of whores anyway. but... you are so different from them. that's why I chose to talk to you. but in hiding since girls like to start drama." his expression turned dim and genuine. his blue eyes looked to the nightsky. seeing a good amount of stars.

"..maybe in the future. we can't see the sky like this anymore. The stars disappear and form into nothing but a black sky."

".....ahh fuck it. mongrang."

"Hm?"

you went so close to his face. with pink marking your face so much that your skin wasn't adapting.

"I don't know if I can rub off this feeling. but it's been bothering me ever since we got here. look. I don't know if you are one of them. or a red flag. but if I date you. Then you better not have many other chicks taking the DNA off your lips."

"So, are you saying you like me?"

"I don't know, but if I do, then maybe that's why my body moved on its own to yours."

"You are a peculiar woman with a lot of mystery behind you. and I love it."

your lips turned intimate, and his felt soft. tasting every ounce of his mouth and every bit of flavor of the pervert demon. he rubbed his hands to your waist, pulling you closer into the kiss. and even deeper as it seems.

"Ah..ehm. yeah. I don't know how to explain myself in terms of love."

" It's fine.. I loved it."

(My hands hurt ghfnfnfn)

[justadestiny2titan]

SUP GAMERS!!! OC TIME!!!!!!

I'm gonna start with my guardians!

So there's Taurus-5, Catherine-1 and Alita-27! (I also have some more but I don't have names for them yet)

Taurus is a titan who was ressed shortly before the whole Moon problem where Crota killed the original raid team. He and Catherine are basically Guardian twins, ressed same day!

Taurus is a thick headed man who is rather book smart, but navigates social situations like a brick. He is incredibly blunt, crass, endearing, and oh so genuine when he talks!

He has a major respect and fascination with the Eliksni of various houses (Winters and Wolves being his favourites!), he would take mercenary bounties here and there for them to learn more about how houses worked, he's even learned how to repair a ketch's engines!

He is absolutely in love with Uluran, he finds their war machines and modem operandi beyond enchanting. He has, on multiple occasions, fought in gladiator arenas just for the chance to talk with even a Val.

We don't talk about what he did to Crota's remaining brood and other hive.

He feels incredible sorrow for the Scorn, but not for the plight of the scorn other than Fikrul, but for the loss of House of Kings cultural practices. He doesn't fully see the scorn as conscious beings, only seeing the larger scorn as conscious and deserving of some respect.

And he doesn't really hold an opinion on the Taken and Vex other than, they're there ig.

Then there's Catherine-1 who was resurrected at the same time as Taurus. She is quite smart and silver tongued, but has a tendency to go too far with either explanations or conversations! And I head canon her as autistic!

She is rather intrigued by the Vex, how they work and operate, and how they intertwine with concepts she's familiar with, such as the Hezen Collective fucking with time (she believes it to be an odd spin on string theory!)

She truely, truely, truely hates Taken, she finds the very concept of the Taken to be very horrifying.

She feels great sympathy for the remaining Eliksni houses, Salvation in particular, she feels like they've been backed into a corner by the Vanguard with no other choice than to join or be destroyed.

And she's incredibly fascinated by the Hive and their magic. She's even managed to cast a few spells before, although weak and basic (though one time she tore the worm from a knight, leaving them alive after the process.)

She has no strong feelings toward Uluran and Scorn.

And finally Alita, she was resurrected a long while after Taurus and Catherine, she was ressed in the ADZ (Asian dead zone), as she was an Exo who managed to survive the collapse before being killed by a Warlord for trying to fight back against him.

She is sunshine and rainbows, not a single coherent thought behind her eyes other than to help people and look cool while doing it.

She loves all the factions in the system, seeing good in all of them (except Taken, she's even less tolerant than Catherine.) She has joined up with at least all the factions at one point or another (including Vex! Don't ask how.)

And she has a cat called Dracula!

[majorbaby]

I have lots to say about S07E23 Preventative Medicine but my document was swelling with analysis of this one line from Hawkeye, and I want to write a whole post about it for a very particular reason.

I've often expressed my frustration at the show being wishy-washy with its anti-army messaging in the later years or not doing right by the Hawkeye character by either softening his opposition to the army or making him say straight up OOC shit. And I've talked broadly about the show doing the same thing in general, saying stuff that I think is OOC for MASH - it's hard to give specific examples because they're so numerous and dispersed.

So when I stumbled upon this one example of I think, very good characterization of Hawkeye that is particularly rich yet distilled nicely in a single line of his dialogue and then masterfully camouflaged by the show's tone and Alan Alda's comedic acting chops, I wanted to point it out. I realized, this- this is why I get so cagey about the poor, inconsistent writing on the show in the later years, because when it is good, it is so fucking good. And Hawkeye is so, so, so fucking good:

Hawkeye: Colonel, you left out a lot of good stuff. What about "Into the Valley of Death" or "Remember the Alamo" or the ever-popular "Damn the Torpedos!" Lacey: Doctor, why do you just take care of these brave men? Hawkeye: "I have not yet begun to fight!"

Just before this, BJ does call Lacey's speech "disgusting" which is gutsy, for BJ. I have to say "for BJ" because to be fair to him, anyone will have a hard time looking gutsy next to Hawkeye (with the exception of Klinger, more on that someday)

Anyway, Hawkeye elevates it from the obvious and situates Lacey’s actions within a broader system of military incompetence leading to senseless death. He makes no less than four historical references:

“Into the Valley of death” From Alfred Tennyson’s poem about the Crimean War, which similarly glorifies the high death toll rather than condemns it. Important to note that Tennyson’s poem is in the same spirit as Lacey’s speech and both Hawkeye and the writers of this episode know that. An aside regarding the poem: Because I am so continually gutted and angered by any positive framing and re-framing of Rudyard Kipling, in the world, but particularly in this fandom, I will be the first to point out that Kipling later wrote “The Last of the Light Brigade” in conversation with Tennyson’s poem. It's not that difficult to find out. Yes, Kipling's "transformative" poem is about the hardships faced by veterans (a departure from Tennyson's poem) and no I don’t think that’s enough to see past Kipling’s extraordinary racism and white-supremacist artistic accompaniment to the brutality of British Colonialism waged upon my ancestors and millions of other people's ancestors - the effects of which are still felt deeply to this day by us as individuals, our communities and are imbued in the systems that oppress us. That should always be at the forefront of Rudyard Kipling's legacy, regardless of context.

“Remember the Alamo” - a similar “last stand” often framed and re-framed as being a brave sacrifice. A favourite war story of the American canon.

“Damn the Torpedos!” you don’t have to live like a refugehhh both Hawkeye and Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers are referencing a quote attributed to US Navy commander, Admiral David Farragut, although it’s doubtful he actually said it, the meaning of the quote remains: charge forward even if you’re likely to die in your attempt. Farragut was a decorated career army man who fought in multiple wars and after his death in the late 1800s became a mascot for the US Navy and his likeness was used on WWI and WWII propaganda posters, urging citizens to sign up. I think Hawkeye and the writers are aware of this too.

After Lacey tries to remind Dr. Pierce MD that he is in fact a doctor not a soldier (cries in the Hawkeye Pierce complex) Hawkeye exclaims “I’ve not yet begun to fight!" – that’s John Paul Jones during the American Revolution while appearing to have lost a battle at sea with the British. He succeeded, but it's worth noting that the ship he was in command of, the Bonhomme Richard, sustained such damage, it sunk.

That is a lot for barely 20 seconds of dialogue.

Hawkeye being anti-army isn’t just broadly true of him. It’s packed very densely into these kinds of lines (of which I'm sure there are many) and then dressed up in theatrics. Alan Alda hams it up here and I love it, because it highlights how vapid and fake military propaganda and nationalist refrains are.

If you’re not familiar with the references he’s making and the analysis of them that I've laid out here/other facts associated with them, then they might just land as a “haha, Hawkeye is such a funny guy” perhaps with some vague awareness that he doesn’t like Lacey.

It's very hard for me to accept anything less from this show, and from Hawkeye in particular, when you have examples of how concentrated and deep his rage and passion runs.

[ask-greenknightmonkie-au]

CHAPTER 10- PickleBerry Cave- Weird Name for a King's Castle.

-outside the cave.

Clay's eyes looked over every one of the bride-to-be's features.

He wasn't sure if he could trust her.

She wasn't malicious, but at the same time...

She held an odd familiarity that he didn't like the feeling of.

It took everybody to push a large boulder blocking the entrance to the cavern, with MK foolishly yelling "Echo!", which Stephanie copied.

"Stephanie, stay out here," Clay instructed, "It's most likely dangerous." Stephanie begrudgingly agreed.

Clay and MK tried to get Rosie to do the same, but she insisted on coming with them.

"My fiance owns this cave," she reasoned.

-entering the cave

It was dark. In the entry-way, a spider could be seen. Rosie clung to MK, and he clung to Clay. Lots of cobwebs, and an unusual stench.

One that Clay had once smelled, the stench of decay.

-going deeper.

It was getting hard to see. Luckily, a little ways in, a working light system was discovered- already on. There were paintings. One was of Rosie and her fiance, MK figured.

There were photos, many of which were of Rosie. One of the photos was of someone MK had never met. Clay, though, recognized the fellow right away.

He glared at Rosie. And Rosie looked away. MK decided not to intervene.

-deeper.

Nothing of note. Occasionally, they'd come to well-furnished rooms, or be greeted by butlers and maids.

They were with Rosie, so it'd be fine.

-deepest

Sylvester stood on top of a well-made table, gripping the green-clad ninja by the neck, the necromancer's eyes piercing through to Lloyd's soul.

"Just hiking? This is my home. There was a sign- multiple signs."

Lloyd swore he didn't see it. He couldn't tell Sylvester the truth of why he came to this cave. This was something he had to keep to himself.

His students, his brothers and sister, and anybody else could not know.

-storming in.

Before Lloyd knew it, multiple people he's never seen before stormed in.

An armor-clad man, presumably a knight, with a large claymore.

An agile-looking yet strong-seeming boy with a large staff- a staff Lloyd recognized from a book his uncle used to read to him- who also had a soft-looking monkey's tail.

And, the necromancer's soon-to-be wife.

The bride pleaded with her husband, causing Sylvester's grip to loosen.

But the monkey boy's hasty threats caused it to tighten again.

A battle. One Lloyd couldn't fight in. A sharp pain seemed to beat on his ankle like a drum as he was dropped on the ground.

Clay and MK had never fought together. It was clear. There was no harmony. MK gave it his all- the first time he transformed, Lloyd assumed he was a formling. But, the second, third, fourth, and so-on times, he had begun to wonder.

Meanwhile, every thrust and slash of Clay's weapon had purpose. Unlike MK's, his strategies seemed to be all laid out in his head.

Sylvester was stronger, though. And, he broke free from the onslaught and ran- not to escape, but to taunt.

MK and Clay chased, with MK in front.

A natural light at the end of the tunnel where the man-made light ended.

The battle carried on there, but the necromancer King didn't even need to summon anything to defend against these two.

To themselves, they were strong.

To Sylvester, they were but bugs to squash under his heels.

And Sylvester wasn't against playing dirty, grabbing the monkey-ish boy's tail.

He dangled him over the side of the cliff.

"Step away, knight."

Of course, Clay's body moved faster than his mind. He had to take another step to balance himself, but of course,

That resulted in the drop. And before Clay knew it, the strange man he had just met was gone.

-inside the cave

Rosie knew something was wrong. And so she ran off, ignoring the knight's gasps in horror, the ninja's pleas for help, everything.

She knew she was cowardly. She had always been cowardly, and as much as she wanted to run away from her old cowardly self, (s)he was still with her, for better or for worse.

Maybe she wasn't fit to be royalty- royalty, as far as she knew, didn't leave anyone for dead. She was always fit to be a laughing stock, though. Maybe she should go back to that.

After all, maybe her new king could use a jester.

----

-at the base of the mountain

"Wake up, young master."

"Uh..?"

"Didn't you hear me? Wake up."

"Who...are you? Where- who-"

"We're taking back your throne. Don't you remember?"

"Not really."

"You're my king, young master. Now, it's time to go,"

It was almost like he had said it before.

The older man pointed to a large red staff with golden accents jabbed into the dirt.

"That, my king, is your staff. Take it."

The younger man picked it up, and put it on his back like second nature.

It was time to go, then. The older man's face seemed more relaxed. Less annoyed.

--

Asks are now closed until chapter 11.

[theterribletenno]

Dhakhan

Had an idea for the Umbriel Reef’s Sentient raid boss, Dhakhan.  It’s an underwater Sentient with a serpent-like body and multiple limbs tipped with different Sentient weapons, resembling a nightmarish naga.  This boss is fought three separate times with new or enhanced abilities, mechanics, and drop/reward tables.

During the first encounter with the massive serpent Dhakhan he announces himself boastfully, and openly states that his objective is to find the remains of his uncle, Hunhow.  His voice-lines include degrading Erra and Natah, saying such things as

“My elder cousin, Erra, nothing more than a joke.  A farmer’s boy, unfit for war yet somehow just clever enough to command.  My younger cousin, Natah, a living deception.  Born to cuckold the man and suckle the babe.  Both of them failures and embarrassments.  I will succeed where both of my cousins failed, I will bring the Origin system to its knees, deliver Sol to its rightful owners and take my place as head of the family.”

While also occasionally calling out to Hunhow’s corpse, which he seeks not with the intention of resurrecting his uncle but draining what remains of his power and stealing his legacy and abilities.

Initiating the first fight with Dhakhan only requires that the player have completed the main story quest The War Within and in this first form he is barely more than a glorified tank-and-spank with a wide vareity of attacks available to him.  However, like other Sentients Dhakhan possesses damage adaptation.  After taking a set amount of damage of a given type Dhakhan will gain 75% resistance to that damage type, with no limit on the amount of damage types he can become resistant to, however his adaptation is temporary and will expire if he does not take damage of that type within a set window.  This will force players to make tactical decisions about how and when to attack the giant serpent and coordinate ahead of battle.

The second fight against Dhakhan requires that players complete both his first fight and also the main story quest The Sacrifice.  In the second iteration of his fight Dhakhan is a Sentient undead, an Eidolon.  His abilities and fight mechanics have been enhanced by this transformation and defeating him will require more precision and organized tactics than before, including the presence of crystalline Eidolon armor across his body, which must be broken with precise attacks on its vulnerable nodes before damage can be dealt to his health bar.  This Eidolon crystal shell will reform after a delay, and must be broken again.

During this fight Dhakhan himself is near-mindless, and only capable of communicating in pained groans and single-word expressions of foggy, far-off emotions and desires.  The majority of dialogue is delivered by the same Sentient version of Natah that also narrates the fight with the Ropalolyst on Jupiter.  Natah will speak cryptically and poetically about her family, and confirm that Dhakhan is indeed a cousin.

“Child of the Old War, Dhakhan was made to seek and destroy.  His purpose from birth was to batter down gates, to crush hope.  He knows only hatred for mankind and hunger for power.”

For his final fight, Dhakhan reappears this time as an Archon and once again his defenses and attacks have been upgraded to require even greater skill and preparation on the players’ part.  New mechanics include attacks which cause repeated raidation and magnetic status procs, cycling stages with different attack patterns, and greatly improved health.   Because of his size and power Dhakhan’s reanimation required several different Archon heads resulting in a mixture of new abilities.  This fight features voice lines from the fragmented mind of Dhakhan, the Lotus, and Pazuul.  This fight requires the player to have completed both previous fights and also the main story quest The New War.  Dialogue reveals that during the occupation of the New War Erra had found Dhakhan’s remains and from them learned of his mission and failure.  Erra sought to harness the power of his dead cousin and hastily created three new Archon heads to reanimate his crippled body: the head of a Bear, Crocodile, and Rhinoceros.

“If Dhakhan had been patient and waited for the New War he may have succeeded in his mission.  But he was arrogant and bloodthirsty, and came to Uranus alone to search for my father.  Now all that remains of his broken mind and twisted body are the aspects that sustain his Archon shards.  The rage of the indomitable Bear, the hunger of the vicious Crocodile, and the stubbornness of the unrelenting Rhinoceros.”

While the head of the Bear is active Dhakhan’s energy will be orange and he will become more durable, taking reduced damage and having improved Adaptation.  While the Bear stage may represent the lowest threat to the players’ survival it will also drastically reduce their ability to damage Dhakhan.

While the head of the Crocodile is active Dhakhan’s energy will be green and he will use his ranged attacks with greater frequency, even using multiple ranged attacks simultaneously and allowing him to cause devastating status procs to players including slash, electric, heat, radiation, and magnetic.  Because of the wide-spread damage of the Crocodile this phase is very risky for players.

While the head of the Rhinoceros is active Dhakhan’s energy will be purple and he will make less use of his ranged attacks and will spend much more time charging at the players and attempting to engage with them at close range with his arms and tail.  Players being targeted by the Rhinoceros should focus on evading his attacks while their teammates spread out and take advantage of the opportunity to deal uncontested damage to Dhakhan.

[kafus]

What is the hardest battle in your opinion (from main series games) and why

assuming we're not counting postgame battle facilities and assuming we're talking about casual playthroughs (not nuzlockes and stuff) And assuming colo/xd isn't main series, hm...

maybe cynthia in BDSP? the original DP cynthia is already pretty challenging considering just the raw power of her pokemon choices and the level difference she usually has from you at that point, but despite leveling being easier in BDSP and having access to more pokemon in the underground, i still think BDSP cynthia might be harder just on account of her strategies/hold items. personally during my own playthrough, without knowing what she had on her team, her flame orb marvel scale milotic almost completely walled me and i had to strategize a little better before i could win (i was on set mode tbf). it's not like it's a common occurrence for pokemon NPCS to be using competitive strategies with hold items.

that being said there's also some other strong contenders, Ghetsis is really difficult in BW1 (that hydreigon packs a fucking Punch man) and volo in PLA is pretty hard although i think his difficulty wears off once you understand his multiple phases, especially because PLA's battle system is simpler.

ultra necrozma is notorious for being a nuzlocke killer and for good reason but personally i don't think any single-target enemy in pokemon, even something as strong as ultra necrozma, can compare to a proper Team of pokemon because there are Always ways to cheese it, even in a casual playthrough.

take everything i've said here with a grain of salt because i spend so much time in pokemon postgames it's actually been a while since i've fought a lot of main story bosses in pokemon games, especially like... the 3ds/switch era. and also i tend to put arbitrary restrictions on my playthroughs to challenge myself so my recent experiences probably aren't 100% representative of someone's normal pokemon experience

also just saying if we're counting colo/xd, the final battle in colosseum is the hardest battle in pokemon. it's ridiculous and unfairly scaled against you and i can imagine the developers maniacally evil laughing as they think about all the kids who get that far in the game only to be decimated by skill swap slowking into slaking so it doesn't have truant anymore and then wrecks your shit LMAO

[helshdy]

Joronia

A story I made.

I am experiment 8. I was built to be powerful. The fusion of multiple creatures who were picked and chosen to make me. I was ordered to punish the foe of my creator who ended his company. It was my 1st priority. Then by being in their family, I felt feelings that I had only felt in small bits.

Part 1

When I was made I was built to be powerful and terrifying. Experiment 8. The fusion of multiple creatures who were picked and chosen to make me. I was ordered to learn the strategies of the family, and kidnap my target, while defeating the rest. My target is a black human girl with curly hair with no specific hairstyle. She only wears monochrome clothing with little to no color for some reason that’s undefined. It’s mostly simple with little being noteworthy except for the fact that there’s no color. She is the enemy of my employer who destroyed his company which he made to further innovation. He told her that he would finance her fighting skills and career and make her into a champion.

That didn’t happen. 

For some reason she threw all of that away and drained the life of the man that would give her his power. Then she was taken to another region for two years, freed only to be met with her twin sister who now dislikes her, a child who cries all the time, and her friends who won't talk to her and who live too far away to even try. I took on the appearance of their long lost older sister, looking different than my cold, monsterlike appearance. I forged the name Joronia and turned into a white rabbit with red eyes.  Faking being part of their family was easy since my employer forged the medical papers.

 Moving to another region is rather difficult. This town is brighter than the lab. From what I’ve seen the other region had more people, even if I'd never seen them. Down in the lab, everything was dark. The area was vast and bright despite being thousands of feet under the planet. There was mostly nature to hide and use to disguise yourself  with, and more to swing at creatures who fell before me. There were others who were like me, but we were mostly distant and only fought each other and creatures we found outside, but there was someone different who foolishly talked of love, and deep relationships, and kindness.  

Even when I was on the run and worked as a mere security system until I was promoted to be a spy, everything in my life was dark and I never found any kindness that wasn’t fleeting. Of course I can’t find kindness because of the facts that I am a tool, a freak, a monster. 

But here people are quiet and the cities in the region are farther away. The city from the window had streets that were covered in the daytime and only partially at night. The town is quiet and when I go to high places, I can see most of it all. The view reminds me of toys from the sets the little brother Eaton plays with, and they seem just as fragile too. 

Getting used to life was strange. I've barely had fresh air before, and the mortal lessons put into my brain didn't prepare me for how strange having an average life was. Though I was relieved to find from Mia that she and my target, my 1st priority and her sister, had the same problem even though they've been out here longer than I have. I now know that my target is only good at strategies and fighting and Mia is good at nothing. I was pushed by their uncle to do activities along with school that I find to be a waste of time. 

Even though he was stupid enough to be fooled by the forged documents, my target’s uncle, Drake, looks at me with dead eyes. They become even colder when I ask my target about what she did. He scolds me for being nosy as if he wasn't wondering about it himself. I feel he knows more than what he tells. I’ll have to keep listening and reporting to my employer. He is an older looking white rabbit that is taller than most people I see on this planet with visible muscles that make me shiver in fear especially when he trains. He wears practical and simple clothing with suits for when he works. 

He works as a security guard for a politician and I have to make note of that when I have to fight him by using his weaknesses that I’m trying to find.

There was already another person who was there when we came. They are young and fragile. He is a tiny light brown rabbit with gray eyes and he hops around a lot. He mostly just wears what Drake puts on him and doesn’t think too much about it. He just flaps his paws when the outfit is complete. Laughably easy to defeat is what my first impression of him is. Eaton is two and only clings onto me because he’s an idiot, can't tell my target and Mia apart and can't tell who’s the more well known one. I lose my patience sometimes, but their caretaker tells me to stop, so I’ll have to lower my voice to keep my cover. 

My target only works in two extremes. She either yells most words she says or she doesn't speak for hours. The first time I tried to persuade her into fighting, it was the only time she had gotten angry at me.

“I can’t perform any powers again. Haven’t you heard about what I did? I hurt people. I hurt my friends.” She paused “And my little baby sister. Even if I didn’t mean to, I DON’T want it to happen again.” And then she left and hasn’t spoken to me except for pleasantries and short words and sentences. 

And that was that.

Mia is Vanessa’s identical twin but actively does things to keep her distinct from her. She has braids that go down to her shoulders with very colorful clothing with a lot of pockets to hold things she likes to play with when she’s bored. There’s a lot of pink clothing along with other bright colors in her wardrobe. It contrasts to the fact that she doesn’t speak and I barely see her because she’s mostly out at school, with her friends, and she only eats dinner in her room. She’s indifferent to her entire family, except her sister whom she hates. She glares and is as insufferable as my employer has told me, especially when she’s forced to go to someone that could “help her”. The whole thing is pointless. My target protected them, then her sister and friends had the nerve to be ungrateful, and then get mad when people point it out. 

 This is why love makes no sense. It’s just another emotion like sadness or anger that could easily make someone act stupidly. The only way to make yourself stable is to gather as much magic and power as you can and never exchange it for anything.