#like no one forced them to say that masks could be taken off or act like the vaccines stopped the spread

[iamwonyoung]

teacher's pet? — k.mg

pairings — student!mingyu x teacher!reader

warnings — dynamics, (middle aged female reader x student mingyu), rough, fingering, protected sex, ass spanking, hair pulling, brief degradation. mdni!! if you're uncomfy pls don't read:(

w.c — 1.6k

[inspired by that one edit of hierarchy kdrama.]

***

"i don't understand what you're trying to say, mingyu," you said quietly, maintaining a serious tone, standing at your desk in an empty classroom just after dismissing your class.

"are you pretending not to understand, or you genuinely just love to act dumb?" he cocked his head, hands in his pockets, glaring at you.

his gaze made you shiver inwardly, but you were skilled at masking your emotions. despite wearing skin-toned stockings under your knee-length skirt, you couldn't shake off the cold feeling.

"mind your tone, kim mingyu," you warned sternly, giving him a firm glare. "i am still your teacher," you asserted.

he scoffed lightly, a small smile playing on his lips. "i'm curious," he paused, walking slowly towards you. "you've said that so many times, yet you've never taken any action," he said mockingly, almost cornering you against your own desk as you instinctively tried to step back.

"ah," he chuckled sarcastically, hands in his pockets. "because you enjoy it too," he said with a smile, suppressing a laugh.

he leaned closer, forcing you to lean back against your desk. you tried to avert your gaze but kept eye contact with him.

"do you like it too, ms. y/n?" he asked innocently.

he knew he had the ability to silence you if you dared to speak up, not that you would anyway. you were just weighing your options; you didn't want to risk losing your license over something so foolish.

he forced a small smile before straightening up. "i'll see you around," he said casually before walking away.

you couldn't help but exhale deeply once he finally left your classroom. you unbuttoned the top button of your blouse, trying to catch your breath. he always had a way of leaving you breathless, that damn student.

———

as the days passed, you couldn't help but notice mingyu always giving you the dirtiest looks, even during class. what's wrong with him? if anyone noticed, it could spell trouble.

after your science class, you smiled at everyone. "class dismissed. just a reminder to rest and not push yourselves too hard. approach tomorrow's exam the way you've always prepared," you reassured them.

they all responded with a "yes, ma'am" or "thanks, ms. y/n" before leaving the room. you sighed, turning to put away the papers in the drawer.

then suddenly, you felt a presence behind you. sighing, you knew it was him just by the scent and how massive he felt standing so close behind you.

you were about to turn around and face him when suddenly you felt both his arms at your side, his hands gripping the edge of the drawer.

your heart races with anticipation as you attempt to turn around, only to feel his face inches away from yours. his nose gently brushes against your jaw, inhaling your scent. unable to resist, you tilt your head slightly, granting him access. you were completely captivated by him, always finding yourself powerless in his presence. he had an uncanny ability to effortlessly infiltrate your thoughts.

"what are you doing?" you took a deep breath as you felt his other hand gently glide down to your side, delicately caressing your hips.

you didn't hear anything, then suddenly you felt a warm sensation on your neck, as his mouth gently caressed your skin. careful not to leave a mark, you tried to suppress any sounds, attempting to move away and regain your composure. however, he firmly held onto your hips, "stop moving." he said in a low tone, emitting a low grunt.

"don't." you tried to push him away.

fuck.

"let's not do this here-"

you were interrupted as you felt a firm hold on your jaw, causing your head to tilt further to the side, granting him unrestricted access to your neck. he sensually traces his tongue along your neck, causing you to let out a soft whimper. your hand instinctively tightens around the drawer, seeking support. you could feel his hips pressing against your back, his pants already tightening.

"you're so good, ms. y/n." he lets out a chuckle, "best fucking - teacher ever."

he delivers a strong smack to your ass, causing you to release a sigh and a sound. "this isn't right." you tried to warn him, but he seems determined. he's going to fucking have you inside your adorable lab classroom.

"but it will definitely feel amazing." you can feel his mischievous grin against your neck, as he boldly gives your backside a gentle squeeze before shamelessly lifting your skirt.

disappointed that you had a cycling short underneath. his hand gently moved from your knees to your inner thighs, exploring the intimate space between your legs. you flinched slightly, head resting on the drawer, sighing.

"you know what i like about you?" he smiled as he pulled your cycling down to your feet, along with your panty.

"you're all bark but not bite." he stood square behind you, sliding his finger along your wet folds.

"all talk.. but your body says the other wise." he chuckles. parting your lips and toying them.

you release a moan, subtly arching your back towards him in search of some friction. your desire is evident, and you no longer pay attention to his words. you no longer feel any guilt as your excitement builds, his fingers expertly teasing your sensitive folds.

he releases a soft laugh, playfully smacking your ass with his other hand. finally, he slides a finger inside you, causing an involuntary moan to escape your lips. you quickly cover your mouth, caught off guard by the pleasure.

"moaning already?" he chuckles.

his finger begins to move with intensity inside you, its size and length causing you to almost release a throaty moan. another finger joins in, further stretching you, and you can feel his knuckles pressing deep and his palm brushing against your other opening. it was an incredibly pleasurable experience, surpassing all expectations.

you find yourself leaning closer to the drawer, pressing your face against the cool, hard metal surface as he increases the speed of his movements inside you. the intensity of his touch makes you bite down on your palm, trying to stifle any loud sounds of pleasure. you were barely holding onto anything and he seemed to be enjoying the view of you, as you arched your back and lifted your hips. you're quite attractive for a middle-aged teacher. you were so much more than just a casual encounter.

"come on, let it out." he whispers.

he curls his finger deeply inside you, causing you to reach the peak of pleasure. you find yourself panting heavily, overcome by the intense sensation.

he firmly grasped your hair, pulling you down onto the desk. your back collided with the unforgiving surface, causing your belongings to scatter across the floor.

he swiftly unbuttoned your blouse, gently parting the fabric to reveal more of you. he bit his lower lip, casually undoing his zipper and unbuttoning his pants, revealing his arousal.

oh, fuck

it's thick, lengthy, and dripping with clear fluid, making your mouth water at the sight. it's going to give you an unforgettable experience.

he firmly caressed your breasts for a moment, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a condom pack.

"the fuck?" you muttered.

why does he have a fucking condom in his uniform pocket?

he sternly looks at you, "profanities, ms. y/n you are a teacher." he smirks mischievously, firmly caressing your chest with one hand.

he reached down, opening the pack of condom with his teeth and smoothly sliding it onto his erect member. a slight hiss escaped his lips as he felt the sudden friction. "fuck, yeah" he chuckles, giving himself a few confident strokes.

he positions himself at your entrance, gazing down at you as you close your eyes, surrendering to the moment. all other thoughts fade away as you focus solely on the intense connection between you.

he attempted to enter you, emitting a soft groan. as he gazed at the ceiling, the veins in his neck became visible, a sign of his effort to stifle any loud moans.

as soon as the tip of his member enters your intimate space, he wastes no time in proceeding. he stood there for a moment, gazing at your disheveled expression before thrusting his hips forcefully, causing you to struggle for breath and gasp uncontrollably. the sound you made was surprisingly hushed, almost like a subtle squelch.

he lets out a laugh, taking a moment to catch his breath before slowly pulling out. with a swift motion, he slaps his hip against yours, hitting a spot that sends waves of pleasure through you. it's so intense that your eyes roll back in ecstasy.

he then picks up the pace, finding a comfortable rhythm. his hands eagerly reached for your chest, gently pulling down your bra. he leaned down, lavishing attention on one nipple while teasing the other. all the while, he passionately sucked and nibbled your perky nipples. fuck.

"you feel so fucking good, such a nice slut." he moans deeply, thrusting his member into you with intensity, his hips colliding with yours, the sound of your bodies connecting echoes throughout the room.

"this is the only thing i enjoy about science class." he moves his hips with intensity, his member penetrating deep inside you, causing a mix of pleasure and pain.

you were so close, you could feel it. you attempted to reach out to warn him, but he firmly held your wrist in place, above your head. "stay still," he whispered.

the movement, the flexibility, the intensity. heck it seems like your mind is unable to process anything at the moment. with one powerful thrust, you felt your legs shake as you reached your climax. your head went blank as your vision disappeared.

he lets out a groan, berating himself as he gave you a few sloppy thrusts, his cum filling the condom, he delivers some messy thrusts before withdrawing, disposing of the condom by tying it and tossing it into the nearby trash bin next to your desk.

teacher's pet?

no.

more like a student's pet.

[empresskylo]

'*•.¸♡ — simon 'ghost' riley' x fem!reader

you wanna kiss me so bad — part 2 (wc 1.4k)

part 1 [this can still be read w/o reading pt 1]

You had taken Ghost’s jests in stride. He clearly wanted to one-up you; wanting to show you and Soap he could be just as comical. 

At least he wasn’t angry when you teased him. But still, you hadn’t expected him to respond the way he had. 

You were used to playful teasing, like you would with a sibling. And normally, you could handle crude remarks, always making those with Soap. But when it came to Ghost, something about the way he said them bothered you more than it should have.

You had refrained from talking to Ghost, saving anything you had to say for a later date. Ghost found your response… odd. You went from slowly opening up, joking with the team lightheartedly, to closed off and seemingly lacking any ounce of humor. 

You pulled your jacket tighter as you made it outside, spotting Soap and Ghost up ahead, loading the truck for the upcoming mission.

Ghost stopped what he was doing and stared at you. You froze, your brows furrowing at his sudden shift. Even Soap paused what he was doing to look up at Lt.

“Yes?” You asked him, a bit confused.

“You’re wearing that?” Ghost asked you exasperated, his eyes looking you up and down. 

You felt your face heat. You were literally wearing the same outfit as half the men on the team. It was a uniform after all. He sounded like Soap with his stupid joke. “I guess I am,” you mumbled. You leaned over and picked up a crate to shove on the truck.

Soap smirked, clearly entertained by the awkwardness between you and Ghost.

You loaded the gear quietly for several moments before Ghost met your rhythm, walking beside you as you both carried duffel bags. 

“Calling me stupid one minute, t’not having my jokes at all,” he mumbled. “Can’t seem to figure you out.”

He thought you might not answer him again. You huffed as you tossed the bag onto the truck then turned to face him. “You ever considered the fact that maybe you’re just not that good at puzzles?”

You couldn���t see, but Ghost smiled under his mask. Soap snickered in the background. Ghost turned and leaned against the truck, all the gear loaded up, and crossed his arms. 

“Guess I just prefer a more hands-on approach.”

Your breath got caught in your throat. You averted his eyes, trying to act like his words weren’t flustering you. Teasing was so much more fun when it was just ludicrous jabs. Whatever this was that Ghost kept pulling, was leaving you speechless, and you hated it. You wonder if you’d respond the same if it was anyone else saying these things to you.

Soap bumped his shoulder against Ghost, finally forcing his eyes away from you. “If y’need the practice L.t., I wouldn’t mind—”

“If you finish that sentence, Johnny, I swear to god.”

Soap laughed and climbed into the back of the humvee. 

You refrained from glaring at Ghost the entire ride, though it took a lot of willpower. You swear you could feel the heat of his gaze along your neck. You were determined to fluster him like he had been doing to you.

And of course, when the team split up, you were somehow stuck with Ghost. It’s like the gods enjoyed torturing you. 

You clutched the sniper closer to your chest, the winter wind sending a chill down your spine. You followed Ghost in silence to the lookout point, your boots crunching the half-melted snow. 

Once on target, you laid prone on your stomach, aiming your rifle into the distance. You checked down the barrel, looking out for any of the men on your team, trying to spot them. Ghost still hadn’t gotten down beside you yet.

“Squattin’ too hard on the joints, Lt.?” You teased, keeping your one eye squared through your scope. 

“If you’re as good a shot as you are at runnin’ your mouth, this is a shoe in,” he muttered, a bit annoyed. You grinned, knowing he couldn’t see, with a bit of satisfaction at getting under his skin. 

Ten minutes had passed and still nothing had happened. You got up onto your knees and looked over at Ghost. He was sitting in the same position, tapping on his tablet to locate the men. You noticed his fingers turning red from the cold, his gloves tucked up under his arm so he could use the screen. 

“Pretty cold out here, Lt.,” you began casually. 

His eyes flickered to you briefly before going right back to what he was doing.

“Should hold my hand. You know… so it doesn’t freeze.”

You heard Ghost laugh through his nose, his eyes still focused downward. 

You turned back to your sniper and saw Ghost shift out of the corner of your eye. You glanced over and you bit your lip to keep from gaping. Ghost had continued what he was doing, but his free hand was nonchalantly outstretched, palm open and turned up for you to take as he concentrated on the GPS tracker.

When you didn’t take his hand he looked up. “What? That all talk, then?” He mocked. 

This whole teasing thing didn’t really work when the participating party wanted all the stupid things you offered.

You decided to play things his way then. You reached out and slid your hand into his. He glared at you, almost like he was overly confident you weren’t going to call his bluff. 

You wanted to show him you were just as committed to the bit as he was. 

“Didn’t take you for the affectionate type, Lieutenant.” You laced your fingers together and gave him a saccharine smile. 

He shook his head, shoving his tool back into his bag before tugging you towards him, his grip firm around your hand. “Affection is a weakness,” he explained. 

“Oh! So is that why you haven’t kissed me yet? Afraid to be weak?”

He knew exactly what you were doing. You were intimidated when he fired remarks back at you, ones that stumped you and left you flustered. You were trying to outdo him; to make him flustered. And Ghost was more than pleased.

He tugged you so close you had to use your hand not tangled in his to catch his chest, stopping you from flying into him. 

“You’d like that, wouldn’t ya?”

“So, what if I would?” You threw his words from the other day back at him.

“This is a game you can’t win, sergeant,” he growled out, his eyes locked on yours, unwavering as he stared you down. 

“No? N’ why’s that?” You asked cooly, trying to mask the fact that your heart was racing. “You think I’m lying?” You were… weren’t you?

Ghost’s eyes narrowed, his mind reeling behind his glare. You swallowed and he traced the way your throat bobbed. Before you had the chance to say more, Ghost used his free hand to push his mask up to his nose, baring his chin and lips to you. He grabbed the front of your tactical vest, his fingers looping into the fabric, and pulled you level with him, your eyes turning to moons. 

“What are ya gonna have t’say once I prove ya wrong?” He asked.

You bit your lip, steadying your rapid breaths. “You won’t.” 

Ghost grinned and you were so shocked by seeing his mouth for the first time, watching his lips tip up into a smile, that you didn’t realize he had closed the distance between the two of you until it was too late. 

The kiss wasn’t long, just enough to be more than a peck. You were surprised at how soft his lips were, and how his faint stubble tickled. 

He broke apart, pushing you backwards and dropping both his hands. 

Maybe he had taken things too far. He averted his gaze while you stared up at him dumbly. Ghost smirked, a bit too proud of himself for stumping you. And he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t actually wanted to kiss you. No, he was itching to kiss you far more than what just unfolded.

“At least that got you to finally shut your mouth.” You could hear the playful lilt in his voice and it made your chest beat rapidly. You never expected to share a kiss with your lieutenant. And you never thought you’d catch feelings for him. But here you were.

What had you gotten yourself into?

[hauntdoesthings]

let's talk about: Husk

Husk is a character that I see a lot of love for, but not a lot of discussion about, at least not the same way we talk about Angel Dust or Alastor, so I'd like to start the conversation since I've noticed certain details about him during a rewatch.

How He Socializes

Husk puts it best himself; "Everybody likes to bitch to the bartender." He knows more about everyone than anyone else, whether they tell him or not. Not only is he the one people turn to vent to at their lowest, he has incredible skill at reading others. It's most likely something he picked up as a gambler, but we can see he still utilizes it to read the other residents, like knowing Angel shouldn't be getting drunk after his long shift and realizing when he's masking right afterwards.

On the other hand, reading people like this doesn't seem to fit with his character in earlier episodes. In the first episodes, Husk makes it very clear he doesn't want to at the hotel and by extension doesn't want to be around the residents. His first line is literally about how he's forced to be there and pretty much all of his screen time is spent being anywhere from unfriendly to outright aggressive towards the rest of the cast. He surely doesn't care enough to read people to get closer to them, so why does he? I believe it's either a subconscious behavior or possibly as a defensive measure. Like in a poker game, he reads his "opponents" to stay ahead of them while keeping his own cards close to his chest.

It's already clear Husk values his boundaries when watching his earlier interactions with Angel, but this combined with other behaviors makes me think he's a very defensive person in general. His body language is constantly closed off, often crossing his arms or physically being separated from others behind the bar. This could just be indicative of his surly personality, but there is a specific behavior makes me think more of it. During my rewatch for this post, I realized Husk has a tendency to hug himself during certain moments of discomfort, like the entire first trust exercise in episode 3(more on that later), and during his first argument with Angel in episode 4, he actually shields himself with his wings when AD insults him before leaving.

Speaking of, episode 4 is really a great example of how Husk view others, especially since this is when his mindset finally shifts.

It's easy to see how dismissive Husk is of AD during this episode, with his constant reiterations of how "fake" he is and even saying that he'll be fine after running out despite knowing that he's had a hard night. Looking a little closer at his mannerisms though, it's clear that he cares more than he wants to let on. He insults the scripts and setting of AD's video rather than his acting and even says that that's specifically what Angel tends to complain about. Even when Valentino sudden calls up AD, Husk's face is more upset than "I told ya so." He realizes that Angel is unhappy with his work, but at the same time, he doesn't think too deeply about it.

Husk assumes that because everyone tends to spills their guts to him while drinking, he knows all he needs to about them, and he's correct to a certain degree; however, despite everything he knows, he doesn't appear to think too deeply beyond what he can easily glean. Charlie wants to help others so she doesn't have to help herself, Vaggie projects her self-hatred and high standards onto those around her, and Angel bullshits his way through everything because he's an actor who doesn't know how to be real. Husk realizes these things easily, but not why the others are this way, and it especially shows during his confrontation with AD, as when Angel finally snaps and reveals his true motives, Husk is visually taken aback.

He's so used to knowing and analyzing people easily that this sudden, truly heartfelt moment from Angel makes him rethink how he's been going about their interactions, how he's been thinking of him this whole time. And this is the moment that makes him decide to open up about his own past. Whether it was seeing that common thread between himself and Angel or possibly a realization that he won't accept help from someone who doesn't offer any input of their own, this is the first time we really see him offer any of his private, personal life, and afterwards, there's an obvious shift in how he treats Angel and everyone else.

"Loser Baby" is the first time we see Husk willingly initiate physical contact onscreen when he's always be visibly tense and uncomfortable at even most mentions of it, though most of that was AD being suggestive so it could be an issue with sexual intimacy than physical. He's comfortable enough in episode 6 to go clubbing with the group and genuinely looks like he's enjoying himself, especially compared to when he went to keep an eye on Angel in episode 4, even helping look out for Niffty when needed and supporting Angel after standing up to Valentino. In the lead-up to the Extermination, there's not a single insinuation that he would've left the hotel, choice or not, and he is with the rest of the cast during all the important moments of the battle, from Sir Pentious' death to the ending number. Even when Alastor is presumed dead, even if he assumed Alastor wasn't really gone, Husk could've easily run off during his absence, but he sticks around to help rebuild, undeniably of his volition, wanting to help his friends and possible family.

That note also brings me to something I've really been wanting to talk about:

Husk and Alastor

Unless we see a shift or get new knowledge about Nifty, Alastor and Husk have a really unique relationship both in theory and as evidenced. Husk is a former Overlord, presumably from before Alastor's rise if he was willing to bet his soul in a game with him. This opens up a lot of questions for me, mainly about what their bet entailed, what led Husk to making it in the first place, and if there's a certain respect between them. Yes, Alastor refers to Husk as his "pet," but Husk also comes to him with his suspicions about Mimsy and it can almost be read as worry. Alastor even responds that "it's nothing [he] can't handle." There has to be a certain level of trust for someone to bring up "hey, that friend you've known for decades only ever comes to you when they need something" and have their concerns taken seriously, even if Alastor's care for others is negligible at best. This whole scene seems to be showing that despite their deal, their past as equals has not been totally forgotten by either of them, leading to a certain understanding of each other that neither, particularly Alastor, have had with anyone else up until now.

The biggest reason I bring their relationship up though is Alastor's deal. With all we've seen, I believe Husk is the one character besides Alastor himself and whoever the other party is that knows about the deal and its possible connection to Alastor's disappearance.

For one, Husk is the one that confirms Alastor is "on a leash" in the first place, and he shows no surprise that Husk knows. Alastor is definitely not the kind of person to let anyone know about something like that no matter how close they are, so this makes me think either Husk had to know or that he was possibly there during the deal.

It also stands out to me the specific phrasing that Husk and Alastor use during the scene.

"You've been gone a long time, and it's not like anybody knows why." "They don't need to know!"

This kind of phrasing makes it feel like Husk is specifically being excluded from that group by both himself and Alastor. If it's true that Alastor's deal is the reason he disappeared, then Husk knowing about both the deal and why Alastor's been gone lines up perfectly. Maybe Husk will be the one to reveal more about this to the audience or even the rest of the cast later on, but it's clear that he does know more than anyone not directly involved and at this moment is the most likely to talk about it, assuming Alastor doesn't immediately tear him a new one for it.

Little Details

Last section, I promise. This is just some little details I noticed while rewatching for this that didn't really fit in anywhere else and questions/speculation about them.

Remember how I mentioned Husk hugging himself earlier? The first time I noticed this was during episode 3 when, after seeing the stage, he declares "I'm not about to put on some show for these fucking chumps." Not sure how much of everyone's backstory is still canon, but it was stated that Husk was a magician during his life, so maybe this is hinting that he has some stage-related baggage?

Also during episode 3, we see Husk sneak down the stairs before Vaggie can toss him off the roof in the warzone, and since he didn't come back up with Angel and Pentious, he presumably left before they made it out. However, at the end of the episode, he's laughing with everyone over the events of it. He comments that SP can "take a beating like a champ" and "you did ok, new kid," so was he just pretending like he was there or did he just hang out on the sidelines and watch? Husk wtf?

Husk specifically says that AD's video is "not a very convincing interrogation scene." Does Husk have experience?

When the bartender pours drinks for the gangster getting Angel a refill, Husk immediately watches the drinks themselves, before the guy even reaches for that little bottle. He's a bartender, he's probably seen too many people have their drinks fucked with to the point it's just an instinct now.

He was ready to square tf up when Valentino hit Angel, but waited until Angel walked away instead of jumping in like in episode 4. He really does trust him to take care of himself and was ready to back up whatever he did.

During "The Show Must Go On," it's minor, but Husk actually tucks his wings around the group hug and it's aasfjkdsajfd

For those who've made it this far, thank you so much for listening to my overthinking and ramblings. Please feel free to ask about anything incoherent, add on to anything, or point out things I missed, I'd just really love to get the discussion started on some of these things!

[my-vanishing-777]

Like many of the women inspired by the protests, Alef posted a photo on social media revealing her hair flowing freely in public. It was a simple act of solidarity with the movement against the forced wearing of the hijab.

“I didn’t really care enough to hide who I am or where the photo was taken,” she said. “I wanted to say, ‘we exist’.”

But the picture was seen by the authorities, which were trying to crush the protests, and Alef was arrested.

She says she was blindfolded, handcuffed and taken to an unknown location where she remained in solitary confinement for nearly two weeks. She was also interrogated multiple times.

In one interrogation, she says her inquisitors tried to force a confession out of her. She was made to hand over her phone to masked guards, who went through her social media posts and photos. Pictures showed she had participated in protests and that she had been shot at by security forces with pellet guns. Her interrogators also accused her of working for the US.

Alef was charged with, amongst other things, “appearing in public without a hijab” and “promotion of corruption and fornication”.

She was found guilty and although she was given a suspended sentence, she also received 50 lashes.

“A male officer told me to take off my coat and lie down,” she said. “He was holding a black leather whip and started hitting me all over my body. It was very painful but I didn’t want to show weakness.”

Her story was similar to that of two other women and one man we spoke to in Iran. Each told us they were detained and summoned to court for committing “propaganda against the state.” They all received suspended prison sentences. Alef received both a suspended prison sentence and lashes.

Two of the people we spoke to were held at Tehran’s notorious Evin Prison - known for housing many of Iran’s political prisoners - before being tried and convicted.

Both described poor living conditions in which prisoners were crammed into small, unsanitary and cold cells, with limited access to a shower and toilet, which often led to people falling ill.

A prominent male influencer who was detained for just under a month told us that in his block there was only one shower and one toilet for approximately 100 people.

A woman, Maral, who was jailed for more than two months, said that where she was held the women could only shower once or twice a week. It was particularly tough when they had periods.

“Sometimes they wouldn’t let us go to the toilet for hours,” she said. “If we complained they would say ‘if you co-operate you can leave sooner’. We couldn’t get our hands on period pads. We had to buy them but we had no money, nor would they take money from our family.”

Kosar Eftekhari also had her social media combed through. She was arrested and charged with offences including “propaganda against the state”, “insulting sacred beliefs", “disturbing public opinion”, and “blasphemy”.

One month after Mahsa Amini’s death, Kosar was shot at in her genital area by a riot squad officer with a paintball gun. Moments later he shot her again, this time in the eye “with a smirk on his face”. She instantly heard her right eye “pop” and went blind.

The shocking incident was filmed and posted on Instagram. Despite her injuries and trauma, Kosar became more active online, making her a prime target for heightened surveillance.

[rivalriotrenegade]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader Random "I love you"

About fic: Slight comic references, so if you know you know and if you don't that's still okay. Technically monster Simon Riley x reader but can be read as human Simon also no monster parts described so you can imagine whatever you want. As the title suggests the prompt was "random I love you" so Soft Simon Hours. This fic is for @midnightxsecretary (because they asked for more!) also @luvergirl777 because I think they'd like this based off a fic they wrote. One that you should totally go read after this!

Word Count: 593 (Short read)

Warnings: None, but GN reader.

It’s weird really, to see Simon acting so domestic you think to yourself as you silently watch him wash the dishes. The usual uniform has been replaced with a T-shirt and jeans and the balaclava has been traded in for a black surgical mask instead. You smile softly to yourself as you lean the laundry basket against your hip. 

It had taken Simon months before he felt comfortable enough to let his walls down like this. He had constantly been on guard trying his best not to let you see him down, but eventually you managed to peek through the cracks and slowly he let you see more of himself. Despite the fact that there had been plenty of ups and downs in knowing Simon the more you learned about him the more you grew to love him. All the bits and pieces, broken parts and sharp edges, all the things that made him him.

“Hey Simon?” You call out. 

“Yeah?” He replied without looking at you, too focused on finishing the task in front of him to bother turning around when he could hear you perfectly fine like this. 

“I love you.” You say, smile evident in your voice before you continue down the hall to finish your chore. 

For a moment time seems to stand still as Simon freezes… and just like that, with three simple words, you have shook him to his very core. 

You didn’t see the way his shoulders tensed, the way his hands grip the counter. You didn’t hear the deep breath he takes to calm himself and the emotions currently raging inside of him. You didn’t see the way he has to hold himself together to try and keep from crying. You didn’t see the hand he used to cover his eyes as he leaned over the counter because he wasn’t sure he could stand on his own two feet without his knees giving out. 

It had been a long, long, time since Simon Riley had heard those three words and to hear them so suddenly, for no apparent reason, hit him harder than any punch, bullet or knife ever could. 

He wanted so desperately to say it back, to tell you how much you mean to him. That if given the choice he’d take you over the very oxygen he breathes, because without you what purpose does his life have? He is a man who has lost everything. His mother, his brother, his sister-in-law, and nephew have all been killed for the sake of revenge. His teammates, his friends, have died in his arms. His very identity has been stolen from him, forcing him to live his life as a shadow, as a ghost. For the longest time he had lived for nothing more than to fight another day, to survive. But then you came into his life and for the first time in a long time he didn’t want to just survive… He wanted to live. 

But Simon couldn’t say that. Wouldn’t even know how to begin to put it into words. The strength and courage, the amount of vulnerability it would take to say something like that isn’t something he thinks he could handle. Someday, when he has found the right words and has steeled himself he’ll tell you. 

But that day is not today. As of right now he is doing everything in his power not to fall apart. Breathing in and out, washing the dishes in a circular motion, rapidly blinking his eyes and ignoring the stray tear that slips out. 

Hey! Hope you liked it. If not that's okay too. Please leave a comment and let me know your thoughts, I love interacting with you all. Also feel free to send in your requests! Nothing too weird tho. Have a great day :)

[possessivedesires]

hello :) could you pls make a continuation to your villain deku story?

Yandere: Villain Izuku Midoriya

Reader: Hero in training

Summary: Izuku has decided enough was enough and that you weee no longer a fit for the hero course, he was ready to make the city and school burn. But he wasn’t about to do it without you by his side.

“He did… what?” Izuku asked dangerously as he could hear the person on the other end began to get nervous. This was Zero, feared in the villain world- especially when he had the support of AFO at his back. So anything he wanted, it always happened.

Just like this. Information on the league, what they’ve been doing, how they’ve been reacting since Dabi’s death. But now his source is telling him that Shigaraki sold your location to Overhaul, about accepting Overhaul if he had taken care of you. Using you and wanting to use Overhaul to take care of his little puppy?

No… That was not gonna happen. Izuku was not gonna be standing for this. His hand tightened on his hero case, phone by his ear as he could hear the voice of AFO on the other line. “Are you sure you want to do this Zero?”

“Shigaraki fucked up, he was warned and purposely crossed it. Don’t worry sir, I’ll take better care of the league than Shigaraki ever did.” He spoke; none of the nurses really paid attention to him and this point he didn’t care. Izuku was throwing his little hero mask, he was done with the class and had more than enough information of what he needed.

Light footsteps were behind Izuku, feeling himself smirk a bit at hearing that and mumbling a talk to you later to AFO. A pro hero was finally confronting him and this was probably the best thing that could happen to Izuku right, he was so ready to hurt someone at the moment. Needing to release some pent up anger.

Nurses were bustling through the hallway, seeming to avoid the two though. It was like they could sense something off was in the air, pretending to focus on their clipboards than even having to look at either of them. Green eyes glanced to a reflective surface, seeing Midnight standing behind him. And I even got the easy target, Aizawa would have been more fun but I’ll take what I can get. One less hero.

“Deku.” Midnight called out his hero name, Izuku letting the mask once more and letting that cheerful boy they knew out for one last final act. Izuku glanced back, noticing the papers in Midnight’s hand and recognizing them immediately. The forms he’d forged to get into UA. The were perfect, so it ticked him off they his work was being questioned. Narrowing his eyes, turning full to face Midnight. “You recognize these, right Deku?”

Midnight asked, noticing the hardened look in his eyes. Izuku’s hand tightened on the handle of his case, angered at the offended feeling he felt. He knew that the forms were perfect! It was his work! There was no way that those idiotic heroes could figure it out.

“Fatgum told us what happened on the mission. You killed that man Deku, which apparently isn’t the first villain you killed… According to Aizawa, you did the same with Dabi on our grounds.” Yes, Izuku had forced himself onto the mission with taking down Overhaul when he had gotten the news that Overhaul had taken you.

And he did kill a villain, well, more than one but the heroes only know about one since Fatgum had caught him. Izuku had blamed it at first for protecting Kirishima, since it was the villain that had been fighting. But he hadn’t realized because Izuku’s own mission was to burn down that place to make everyone pay for ever threatening you.

“What are you trying to say Midnight? That I’m a villain?” Izuku asked with such a tone that it took Midnight off guard. The mask fell, Izuku the sweet sunshine of 1A was dead. And it was satisfying to see the pro hero in shock, feeling himself begin to get annoyed with how long this was taken. He just walked to go see his pretty little puppy, was that so hard? “You-you…”

“Oh? Don’t tell me that I killed your thunder? Aren’t you a least bit curious that I was always there when the villains were continuously finding us? Just a little odd, ain’t it? I thought I would have to hide or sneak around or even at least try…” Izuku mocked Midnight, watching the way the papers crumbled in her grasp. The villain let out a bored sigh before lunging at Midnight before she defend herself, kicking the hero without holding back.

Midnight felt the pain, felt her rib breaking as she hit the wall harshly. Her body sliding down with a dazed look, Izuku felt relived. Finally he didn’t have to play nice anymore, he didn’t have to act this stupid school boy anymore, all he could do is take you away. “It was a shame, how easy it was.”

Izuku hide his chuckle, it was pathetic seeing how easy a pro hero went down. He enjoyed watching the way that she struggled to stay conscious with that concussion she gained; wanting to watch her continue to struggle. His hatred for them running deeper than any other emotions.

He moved his hand, pulling up the mask and hearing it click to two ear pieces. Midnight didn’t recognize this boy… She had remembered Izuku a stuttering mess, a boy who was always shy and fumbling around. She didn’t understand who this person was… It had to be a crazy nightmare, right?

“I got so close to everything. And you… You just let a villain pass through the halls each and everyday, saying hello while not knowing that I was planning on your downfall with each lesson you gave.” He laughed, a chill running down Midnight’s spin. She opened her mouth, Izuku’s narrowed with a harsh look. Don’t you fucking speak.

He thought venomously, Izuku quickly tightened his hand on the case and hit her upside the jaw with the steel case. It was a sickening sound that heard and he stood up, hearing the light buzz of his filter going on. His mask had some upgrades, especially knowing of Midnight’s quirk so it filter out the air for any quirks like that.

“VILLAIN!” The nurse cried out in fear, taking off running for her life. Izuku glanced in annoyance, holding out his hand and the black whip shot out. The quirk wrapped around her as he yanked his hand, watching the way she went through the window. I need to get my puppy and get out of here already.

“Murderer… Murderer! You- you killed him!” The young boy stared at the nurse as he was staring at the factuality, a dead doctor was on the ground. Blood pooling around his body as Izuku was holding the sharp object in his hand. He only tilted his head lightly, he didn’t care.

Izuku opened the door to your room, frowning at seeing it empty. You were supposed to be here… Could a nurse have fucked yo when you’re supposed to be recovering? How could they be so careless about his precious puppy?

“Izuku.” Out of all the heroes who could approach him next… It had to be this one. Someone that Izuku could see as a father figure, it annoyed Izuku. A lot.

Aizawa hated seeing the student that he started to care in a fatherly way. Izuku turned, staring at Aizawa and the pro hero’s heart hurt at seeing the darkened green eyes. It made him wonder how someone always look so bright every day… “Sorry old man.”

“So… you really…” He didn’t want to believe it, he didn’t want to accept it. Even if he had saw Midnight’s body… She was pushed into an emergency surgery to see if they save her, Izuku left deathly wounds from the impact. Everything internal. “Where are they?”

“I had a feeling you would have looked for them first… Izuku, are you sure you want to do this? You don’t have to. We can get you safe, you can be a hero-“ Izuku shook his head, he didn’t want anything to do with the heroes. Unless it was watching them all suffer in their death. Aizawa would be the only one that he would give a merciless death, for the respect he gained for that hero during his time undercover. “You never answered my question Aizawa.”

“Gone. They went to go help for the search and protection from the villain.” Aizawa admitted and Izuku clicked his tongue in annoyance. Of course your big heart would want to help everyone… Even with how adorable it is, it’s annoying right now. “Well then, there’s nothing of interest here.”

“Izuku, you know I can’t let you leave. Don’t make this harder kid.” Aizawa didn’t really want to hurt Izuku, sure he pushed him and always seemed like he didn’t care in class. But this was one of his students, this was his future son… He didn’t truly want to hurt him. “Then move out of my way, I have to finish my mission.”

“I can’t do that…” He hummed, Aizawa thinking that maybe he got through the student. But was taken off surprise when Izuku was sliding beside him, confused at seeing the smirk on his face but his eyes widened suddenly when he noticed the empty hospital bed getting thrown at him by the black whip quirk. “Shit!”

Aizawa yelled as he quickly dodged out the way, hearing the wall breaking from the impact and getting stuck in the door. The pro hero climbed over the hospital bed, noticing the stairs door was open. He sighed, moving to the radio that the teachers were wearing. “Midoriya… He’s in the stairs…”

“Midoriya? No way… You can’t be saying that he’s…” Aizawa didn’t want to answer Present Mic, running into the stairwell. Izuku was paused on the steps a few floors up, staring at the pro heroes coming in on different levels. It annoyed how quickly that news travelled… The thundering footsteps were getting louder, pissing off Izuku like a ticking clock to a bomb. His eyes glanced to the side, smirking at the idea he suddenly got.

Black whip wrapped around the railing as he jumped off, Aizawa’s fingers only brushed past him. Just barely missing on catching the student. Black whip tightened, letting Izuku sail to the level below and he felt the strength building before smashing against the wall. His quirk disappearing from the railing as he flipped in the air to summersault carefully on the lower roof.

There was a familiar yell, it made his heart flutter. He’s heard this yell so many times during training. Izuku looked back, easily moving out of the way but staying close to his love. “Villain! I won’t let you- Zuzu?”

You asked, seeing the way he smiled and suddenly… You felt terrified. Something was wrong, something was strange… This wasn’t your best friend. Your best never felt made you felt like you were in danger, never felt like you needed to run… “Zu… Where’s the villain?”

You asked nervously, feeling your stomach knot at when the unnerving smile stretched across his lips. There was so much instability in his eyes, it made you recoil from him. And that watching you move away… That broke him. “Don’t you ever move away from me!”

He snapped, your body instinctively flinching. Aizawa watched from the Izuku made hole on the way he was approaching you. You. Of course. You were the key, you were the way that they could get Izuku to calm down.

Izuku’s eyes widened when he saw Aizawa’s scarf wrap around your waist, quickly pulled away. He panicked, there was no way that he would lose you! You were everything to him! He didn’t hesitate to race after Aizawa, blinded by the obvious lure to keep his eyes on you instead.

“Midoriya… why?” He stopped at hearing your voice on the top roof, his eyes darkening. No… You weren’t supposed to call him that… He’s your Zu, your everything. Don’t talk to me like that… Don’t worry puppy, it’s their fault. It’s all their fault, they made you hate me. I am never your villain.

“I won’t let heroes take another thing from me.” Izuku spoke, feeling his anger beginning to boil that he felt numb. Oh how he couldn’t wait to tear the hero system down, it made him chuckle. “Kid… listen-“

“No! You fucking listen to me Aizawa!” Izuku snapped, completely unhinged at this point. His beloved puppy should never be withheld from him and that’s exactly what the hero he had respect for did. All respect for Aizawa… He lost. Aizawa would no longer have a merciful death. “The system is gonna be crushed and I will tear it apart! Heroes are pathetic, none of them are actual heroes. Just power hungry. Ain’t that right, Kachan?”

Izuku asked suddenly with a cold voice, turning quickly to grab the lunging blonde by his face to smash him into the rooftop. Aizawa’s eyes widened, wondering how he knew that Kachan was attacking him while Izuku was thankful for the danger sense he was given. “You’re beloved, top student. Oh so powerful, loved to tell me how pathetic I was. That I should take a swan dive off of the rooftop. Nothing heroic about that, hmm?” Katsuki gritted his teeth, wondering why he wasn’t moving to attack this nerd. Wondering where Izuku got this strong? Or was he always and refused to show his strength throughout the school year…? Did he think that he was too weak to actually take him head on?!

“I’ve seen heroes turn their back on children, because it wasn’t convenient for them or they wouldn’t get their fame out of it. Is that all you heroes care about, fame? How pathetic.” Izuku mused, Katsuki suddenly screaming from the burst of pain and sickening snap he heard in his arm. When he noticed All Might on the roof, Izuku felt himself grin. “All For One as been a better hero than you ever been.”

And that was the final nail in the coffin, watching the way that the ex number one hero seemed to lose his resolve. Izuku lunged from his spot, hand gripping onto your arm and kicking Aizawa onto one of the lower roofs. “I-Izuku…”

He ignored you, his puppy wouldn’t call him by his full name. You just needed some training and this was your first lesson. You remembered how Aizawa had rushed explain on how you would be the only one to get Izuku to calm down… “Zuzu…?”

Finally, they can learn. That’s my good puppy. He thought with a smile, looking down at you with a smile. It was confusing to see that smile… It didn’t look villainous… It looked like the Izuku that you knew. “We-we can still fix this… remember what you told me… you wanted to do good! We-well this is the time to do something good.”

“And I will puppy, by gutting the heroes.” He said with such a happy smile that it made you feel sick. Your eyes widened when he started to make a phone call, portal appearing for you as Izuku gave a sadistic grin to All Might before dragging you through the portal. And that was the last thing you saw…

:::::

How long were you asleep…? You didn’t really know… All you know was the fact that you woke up in one of Izuku’s tees, in a soft bed. A room with some of your favorite things, some things that only Izuku knew about…

You carefully got out of bed, bare feet pressing against the hard wood floor as you were quiet. Every nerve was on edge, your movements slow as you were nervous that something was going to pop out at any second…

“My pretty puppy finally awake?” Izuku asked as you had peeked into the large room, seeing Izuku sitting in a chair with Shigaraki dead at his feet. The rest of the league was dead along the bar, Kurogiri was alive but cautious. He knew that the master loved Izuku as a son, that he treasured the host of OFA. But to see Shigaraki die now… Kurogiri was weary of Izuku… “Come to your senses puppy, there’s no other escape for you.”

Izuku spoke, noticing the way that you were looking around the bar. You were trying to escape and it wasn’t gonna be happening any time soon, you were his. If the world must die for us, then the world shall die.

One lesson at a time, Izuku would train you. He would make you more perfect than you already were. Your eyes watched the way he stood up from the chair, making his way to the bar and mentioning you to sit down; giving his first order.

“Eat with me.”

[willowthewiisp]

Another series of thoughts and ramblings that keep me up at night.

Can someone explain the meaning of the greatjar description because to ME this implies the shamans were practicing the jarring already but the hornsent saw it and went you son of a bitch I'm in ESPECIALLY if you look at Marika through the lens of her being a successful jar saint (which I don't subscribe to but I digress) or that she was an inspiration to shamans because she was an empyrean who became a god.

The hornsent clearly absorb other cultures of the past similar to the melting pot idea of the tower of Babel their entire tower is based on. So it could just be a practice that had holy religious meaning to the shamans taken and ramped up to mass production to redeem sinners and bastards in hornsent culture.

This also just comes off as a forced reluctance on the part of SOME of the potentates, and the cookbooks also support this, in addition to the caterpillar mask.

If they enjoyed this they wouldn't be haunted, they wouldn't need to wear a grotesque mask to hide doubt and temptation and other emotions that might make them stop doing their jobs. This just reeks that once again higher ups are forcing the lesser to do horrible things to people while they don't get their hands dirty.

This is also a direct callback to the omenkillers who instead of doing their grisly work out of religious act, they do it because they're bloodthirsty murderers, rollo even numbed himself to the horrors similar to how the caterpillar mask numbs the potentates.

Also, I have to stress, not once is Marika EVER referred to as a shaman, not once. She was from the village yes but she wasn't like them was she. Yes you could say she was shaman but she's only ever called an empyrean or numen. She has more ties to the eternal cities and the nox than shamans when it comes to in game texts but this is just more of a continuity nitpick than anything, because idk why she wouldn't be referred to as one unless it was some lowly title to associate queen Marika the eternal to or it's to hide the fact shamans even existed in the first place which is bizarre too. Why hide your heritage. Why hide your people. Unless you were guilty of doing something to them that you wanted to hide and keep secret ...

(there's a whole ass tree sentinel and you gotta get through the shadow keep thats not exactly a warm welcome home)

I just always found it rather suspect a small village like that supplied the amount of jars needed for the greater potentates to make the jars, unless the shamans themselves were "mass produced" and I still maintain they are the very first successful attempt at artificial life by the numen who eventually became nox, (and the carians are apparently related to the nox and they made the dumpy second gen albinaurics) but instead of silver they were gold, and you can clearly see gold strands in the meatball items.

Marika still didn't attack the land of shadow until she was married to radagon and had miquella and malenia so she must not have been too bent out of shape over it but the black knife assassins sure did seem to have a level of hatred for her to agree to kill her most beloved son and we know they were numens too so....... whatever Marika did to ascend didn't offend the hornsent into attacking her after she became a god. In fact, the churches in the lands of shadow tell us she was worshipped there but curiously her braids are shorter but equal in length, meanwhile the first church of Marika has a significantly longer right braid and a shorter left braid, and supposedly these churches were built after the giants were slain. But the timeline is vague.

The timeline is weird here but she ascended and waged war, and sealed the flame of ruin and started the age of the erdtree... Meaning she must have returned to the shaman village and cut her braid then, and left. But she didn't kill the hornsent then, and she waited until after the age of plenty after the sap had dried up, after Godfrey was hounded away, after her and radagon married and after miquella and malenia were born, to send messmer to war. WHY.

Also if this statue is depicting messmer as a baby that must mean he was born sometime before she cut her braid but perhaps after the giants.

Her braid is almost nearly the same length as her post giant war braid length, (and you can't see it in this picture but her left braid is behind her elbow and it's the same length) So she had messmer BEFORE she cut her braid and left the village forever. Perhaps maybe her prayer and wish was for messmer, who was cursed. She still confessed to something though....

......

Again, this doesn't erase the fact the hornsent were just like every other society where there was good and bad, the same as the golden order, but I'm sick to death of hearing "the hornsent deserved it, Marika was a victim" because of the shamans, when you can clearly see it's not black and white, and it did NOT warrant a genocide of that magnitude and Marika is not so innocent in this. She still committed not one but two genocides, possibly even more, waged war against everyone that stood against her, treated her children like tools or vessels, threw two of her children in the sewers to rot, abandoned messmer, apparently used Melina for a singular purpose of being kindling and even sealing the power of the gloam eyed queen behind her eye like she did to the abyssal serpent in messmer. Like, Marika is a fascinating character but she is not innocent and she is NOT a good person. Maybe once she was but it's long long gone by the time she ascends.

[theboywithburninghands]

I have cooked. But I’m also exhausted so I’ll just leave this here. This is the best chapter so far, imo. Hope you guys like it! @fernstarsblog

T/W: Drug and alcohol use, domestic abuse, toxic masculinity, era-appropriate sexism, vomit

Primum Peccatum Ch. 9: Do Ya Thing

The evening of the gathering arrived entirely too quickly and agonizingly slowly. Pomni sat on the ferry to the mainland, garbed in a simple black dress and some light makeup. She wisely hadn’t told her mother about the arrangement, as Mirella certainly would have forced her into another frou frou dress. She had bitten her nails down to the quick, so she brought along a small wood bead from her mother’s sewing kit to chew on.

Jax was clad in his gray-on-gray outfit, which he had cleaned and dried after the downpour from two days ago, opting for a plain white ascot. His usual glib demeanor had given way to poorly-masked dread, and he kept his gaze fixated on one of the ferry windows for most of the trip to the mainland.

“Thinking about jumping ship and swimming back to the island?” Pomni asked. “I’ll join you. I chose a rather aqua-dynamic outfit, wouldn’t you say?”

Jax let out a short sigh of laughter, his Cheshire smile returning for a moment.

“You must be terribly nervous as well. I suppose my little tantrum yesterday morning did little to ease your anxieties. I apologize for that.” he said, his yellow eyes still adhered to the window.

“Yesterday was… enlightening.” Pomni said. She flicked the bead in her mouth from her back molars to her bicuspids with her tongue. “But, at the very least, I’ve taken enough alkalizers to tame my pyrosis. May I ask you something somewhat personal?”

“You may,” Jax replied.

“…You haven’t taken an inordinate dosage of your… physick, have you?” she asked, clamping her teeth down smartly on the bead.

Jax laughed again, his smile remaining absent. “None more than usual. I would like to be able to sit upright in front of my father. Enough to keep me anchored.”

“This is welcome news,” Pomni replied. “Because I require your assistance tonight.”

Jax looked at Pomni. She in turn gazed down at her lap, the engagement ring sparkling on her left hand once again. She held the bead between her front teeth.

“In a few hours, this will be but a memory. Until then, my best advice is…”

He paused for a moment. Pomni risked a look up into his eyes. They were far-off in thought.

“…Be… genuine. Within reason.”

Pomni scoffed, sliding the bead back into her molars and clamping down on it. “You could be a politician with nebulous language like that.”

Jax held up a hand. “Pardon me. You’re correct, that was unhelpful. What I mean to say is…”

He took another few moments to ponder.

“Your parents always wish for you to behave. To act as others do, and nothing more. Well… they aren’t here tonight. I know what kind of person you are, Ms. Shutnyk. Be that person. She’s wonderful.”

Pomni felt a queer heat in her cheeks. She swapped the bead in her mouth from side to side.

“You said ‘within reason’ earlier.” she said.

“Ah, I did… Well, I suppose I meant… Hm. I suppose I meant that if you see any member of my family acting the goat, try not to completely verbally trounce them. We should attempt to remain in my father’s good graces long enough to collect his dowry, then we are free to excise him and anyone else unsavory from our lives.”

Pomni chewed the bead in her mouth.

“I understand if that appeared condescending, dear,” Jax began. “But I merely-”

“I understand. Continue our charade until it is safe.” Pomni interjected.

“Something to that effect,” Jax concluded. He looked out the window again at the approaching mainland.

The ferry came to a stop at Blackshell Bay’s pier, Jax and Pomni being two of about five passengers who disembarked. The ferry usually only ran until sunset, but unique hours could be arranged for a small fee and some advance notice.

“Looking forward to seeing the pair of you at ten pm!” the ferryman said to them. From his tone, it sounded less like a cordial farewell, and more like a warning to be on time or be left behind.

Jax nodded at the ferryman, having made the arrangements the previous day, before turning to look at the road.

“I suppose we should begin our trek. My father’s estate is two miles to the east. Although it may be to our benefit if- Ms. Shutnyk?”

Pomni had fixed her gaze on a horse-drawn carriage standing in one of the ranking cubicles by the pier. It was black, with gold leaf on the trim and the fellies, and was pulled by a pair of mustangs, who stood and waited patiently. The carriage driver was a shapeman in a red suit, his head composed of nothing but an overlarge set of teeth with two different colored eyes set inside. Upon seeing Pomni and Jax, he doffed his top hat, which sat almost comically small on his head.

“Ah, you’ve arrived! Please, take your seats. Your father is expecting you, Mr. Krolik.”

He gestured to the door of the carriage, which swung open neatly on its own. Jax managed a smirk.

“I suppose this is preferable to walking, n’est-ce pas?” he said. His faint smirk withered upon seeing the expression on Pomni’s face.

“It’s him…” she muttered.

“You know that shapeman?” Jax inquired.

“I know of him. He-”

“Time is of the essence, my young friends! Please hop aboard!” the shapeman sang.

Jax looked from Pomni to the shapeman.

“Well, if my father paid for his services, it would be incredibly rude not to use them. And that would be a bad start to this already dire evening.”

Jax approached the door to the carriage, turning after about six paces to look at Pomni.

“Pomni? Whatever could be the matter?” he asked, his voice tinged with worry.

“I… don’t believe that your fa-”

—

Pomni blinked, finding herself in the carriage, sitting across from Jax. The sun had sunk in the horizon, turning the sky a hazy orange, and the carriage clattered to a stop at the gate of a white manor. A large letter K had been inscribed in a bronze plaque on each gatepost.

“I… what…?” Pomni whispered.

“Ah, good, you’re awake.” Jax said, smiling faintly. “You nodded off almost as soon as we set out on the road. I suppose you haven’t been sleeping well recently. I understand.”

Pomni rubbed her eyes, some sand coming loose as she did so. Had she simply dozed off? She couldn’t remember one moment of the trip here, so she must have. Slumber was one of the few occasions where she didn’t remember anything. That must have been the case, there were no other logical answers. She couldn’t find her bead… hopefully she hadn’t swallowed it.

Jax offered a gloved hand as he helped her out of the carriage. She accepted it, only realizing exactly what was happening after her feet met the earth, and she retracted her hand a might too abruptly.

“I-Er… My apologies…” she muttered. Jax simply held up a hand to assuage her.

“Thank you for your services, sir.” Jax said to the carriage driver. He took three crowns from his pocket and handed them to the shapeman, who seemed to tuck them into his sleeve with a flick of the wrist.

“Enjoy yourselves, Mr. and Mrs. Krolik! Until we meet again!”

The carriage driver snapped his reins and the carriage trundled away into the sunset. Jax removed a heavy looking iron key from his other pocket and turned it in the gate’s heavy padlock, where it clanked open noisily and slowly whined open.

Pomni entered the property and took in her surroundings as Jax relocked the gate. It was a marvelous home, three stories tall with an impeccably maintained frontage. Unlike the roses and gardenias of her mother’s front garden, however, here it was perfectly level, lush gorass with symmetrically arranged trees lining the stone pathway. The branches were heavy with green, not-quite-ripe plums the size of cherry tomatoes.

“These are lovely,” Pomni said.

“The trees? It’s not quite their season yet. My mother used to make plum jam back in Ediacara, although I never had a chance to taste it. My father had these planted in her memory. My brothers and I just pick off and eat the ripe plums, but we also have to gather up all the overripe ones that fall into the grass before they attract insects.”

Jax relayed all this information while they climbed the steps to the front door. Pomni felt her stomach twist. She wasn’t ready yet… was it too late to flee as fast as she could and hide out in town. No, the gate was locked. Allfather please just let tonight end quickly.

Jax sighed to himself and knocked on the door. Someone opened it almost immediately.

“Ah, Jax! Dobry wieczór!” a female voice Pomni didn’t recognize answered.

“Dobry wieczór, Zuzanna, czy możemy wejść?” Jax replied. His Ediacaran was impeccable.

“Oczywiście, witam, witam!”

Jax motioned for Pomni to follow. Standing in the doorway was another rabbit woman, her fur pure white, in a black skirt and white silk apron. Her eyes were a light pink rather than the usual yellow. She beamed upon seeing Pomni.

“Ms. Shutnyk, this is our housekeeper, Zuzanna. She only speaks Ediacaran, but rest assured, she’s thrilled you’re here.”

Zuzanna shook Pomni’s hand eagerly.

“Witam, pani Shutnyk! Miło mi cię poznać!” she said.

“…Dobry wieczór.” Pomni replied. She didn’t know a word of Ediacaran, but the greeting was easy enough to memorize.

The foyer of the mansion stood tall, austere and immaculately clean, reminding Pomni of The New Hirnantian Historical Center. She visited the museum on a class trip to the capital city Biddeford when she was ten years old, and she recalled how tiny she felt upon walking into the sprawling atrium with her classmates. The key difference was no one is meant to live in a museum… so what purpose did such oppressive architecture serve in a home?

The floor was polished white marble, and a wrought iron black spiral staircase led up and out of sight to the second floor. Above them was a second floor oakwood balcony that looked out across the atrium, another symmetrical balcony above it for the third floor. There were four rigid-looking chairs placed by the staircase, colored a weak violet, presumably an antechamber for guests. Two hallways led off to the first floor’s eastern and western wings.

However, the largest set piece was a three-tiered silver chandelier suspended from the ceiling, wreathed in strings of crystal. The crystals reflected flashes of all-colored light from the electric lights burning in the center, exactly like the engagement ring on Pomni’s left hand. It was beautiful, if a might ostentatious, but Pomni’s mind immediately jumped to the logistical questions. How did one dust it, or change the spent light bulbs? Risk their neck on an over-tall step ladder, evidently…

“Well, you’ve arrived. I’m glad to see you’re on time, Jax.”

Drexl Krolik looked down at the three of them from the second floor railing. The blue rabbit, nigh on seven feet in height, stood in a dark green waistcoat, matching trousers and a red Brummell ascot. He had the same wooden pipe in his teeth, which he took a short pull from, exhaling a small plume of smoke.

“Good evening, father. You’re looking well.” Jax said. Pomni noticed he was standing even more at attention than usual.

“As are you. Greetings once again, Miss Shutnyk. How have you been?” he asked. Pomni remembered how much Jax’s father valued eye contact, so she kept her eyes matched with his, even as hot prickles ran up her arms and legs.

“I’ve been… I… I apologize, I dozed off on the way here. I’ve been well.” Pomni hoped that this excused the stammer in her voice. She desperately tried not to scratch herself.

“Yes, I suppose it has been an eventful few days for you, hasn’t it?” Drexl replied, keeping his eyes on Pomni’s. She felt as though she may erupt into hives.

“Father, have Altonicus and Kali arrived yet?” Jax inquired.

Drexl looked back to his son, Pomni at last able to look down at the floor and subtly itch her arms and legs.

“They have. I believe they’re in the tea room with Osvaldo.” Drexl replied, taking another pull from his pipe.

“May I be excused to greet them, sir?” Jax requested.

“Yes you may. Although both of you, please take off your shoes.” Drexl pointed to a nearby shoe rack, where at least six pairs of very long and wide shoes sat.

“Yes sir,” Jax said, motioning for Pomni to follow him over. The two of them took off their shoes, Jax back to his bare footpaws and Pomni in just her stockings. The marble was cold on the soles of her feet, and Pomni could feel a set of yellow eyes burning into the back of her neck. It can’t have been that interesting to watch her remove her shoes…

“Thank you, father,” Jax said, bowing shortly to Drexl before motioning for Pomni to follow him.

“I’ll be down in a moment,” Drexl said, putting one hand on the railing. He looked down at Pomni one last time, who followed Jax without a word.

The tea room was an elegant little place, with blue and white china plates arranged about a small Ediacaran oak table. The tablecloth was printed with floral patterns of pink, red, yellow, green and blue. Some tea cakes, freshly baked and dusted with powdered sugar, sat on a platter, wafting an aroma of dough and jam throughout the room. An enormous window ran along the opposite wall, opening onto the back garden, which revealed a view of the bay, lit up oily black and orange by the sunset.

“Ms. Pomni! Hello again!” Kali stood from her spot at the table. She wore a magenta dress, with a necklace of high quality pearls and her usual gorgeous smile.

“Greetings Kali, it’s nice to- OH!”

Pomni hardly had time to react before Kali threw her arms around her. The hug would have normally elicited a desperate attempt to squirm away, but Kali was an acquaintance and she could allow one hug. One.

“Kali, Kali, let the young lady breathe, for goodness’ sake.”

Her husband, a pink-furred rabbit about a head taller than Jax and in a blue waistcoat with a black ascot, approached the pair with an apologetic smile.

“My better half can be a might affectionate with friends and family,” Altonicus said. “Although, it’s probably because of this that I treasure her so much.”

Kali grinned and released Pomni, whose hair was slightly mussed up and now wore a faint shade of pink on her face. Kali went over to Jax and embraced him.

“And how’s the last of the litter?” she said fondly.

“I’m quite well, Kali. You seem in high spirits. Have you perhaps had a nip of wine?” Jax replied, smiling impishly.

“Ah, so that’s how you greet your sister-in-law? For shame!” Kali lightly swatted Jax with a glove.

Pomni glanced at her side, hardly noticing a gray rabbit in a burgundy waistcoat that had walked up alongside her.

“Oh, Osvaldo, good evening,” Pomni said after a moment of silence.

“Salutations, Ms. Shutnyk. I hope your affairs are all in order,” Osvaldo said. His voice was high-pitched and quiet, like that of a woodland owl.

“As in order as is possible, given the circumstances,” Pomni replied.

Osvaldo managed a fragile smile before glancing over at Jax. “Good evening, brother.”

“Good evening, Ozzy.” Jax replied. He adopted a considerably softer tone with the gray rabbit.

Kali motioned them over. “Come and sit, the both of you! Zuzanna made fresh raspberry cakes, they’re heavenly.”

Pomni took a seat beside Jax. Zuzanna entered the tea room on cue, carrying a large blue-and-white teapot on a red trivet.

“Masz ochotę na herbetę?” she inquired to Pomni. It was only polite to serve guests first.

“Yes please,” Pomni said, nodding and attempting a smile. Zuzanna poured her a cup of Ediacaran black tea, although it was actually a deep brown. Pomni always wondered why certain foods were named the wrong color… she took a cake so the others could begin to serve themselves.

“Will Boone be joining us?” Jax inquired, taking a cake after allowing Kali to have two.

“He’ll be along,” Altonicus said, an air of what could have been disappointment in his voice. “Osvaldo told us a moment ago he’s taken up another hobby.”

“Ah, so trap shooting only lasted a week,” Jax said, unruffled.

“Six days…” Osvaldo said. “Father refused to build him a shooting range in the back garden, and he said something along the lines of ‘The day I allow you near my rifle again is the day my fur begins flowering.’ Not that I blame him.”

Kali laughed ruefully.

“So what has he employed to curb his restlessness now?” Jax asked.

“You said cartography, correct, Aldo?” Kali asked.

“He wants to make a detailed map of the huntsman’s woods,” Osvaldo clarified, taking a cake. “For his own personal use.”

“That will last all of two weeks at the very most,” Altonicus said, the last to put a tea cake on his plate. “Father has stopped asking if any of these endeavors interest him enough to make one into a career, I would assume?”

“Father…” Osvaldo glanced towards the door to the tea room. “Father remains adamant that we inherit the company. Boone and I have both been conscripted into interning… I suppose Jax will too, as soon as the wedding ceremonies end.”

Pomni had a bite of her tea cake. The cake itself was on the heavy side, clearly made with an abundance of butter, but the jam was heavenly. Warm and tangy with a tingling sensation on the edge of the flavor, merging with the powdered sugar for a beautiful marriage of sweet and sour. She swallowed, and that one bite sat rather heavily in her stomach. She would probably only manage one of these, lest she spoil her already meager appetite.

“But since neither you nor Boone enjoy the work, what does he expect to accomplish?” Kali asked, wiping her mouth free of powdered sugar.

Osvaldo raised a long finger to his lips in in a “hush” motion, nodding to the open door. “Well… I believe that is why he’s placed such importance on the financial gains that will come from Jax’s marriage to Ms. Shutnyk. A reasonable financial cushion, especially after the whole affair with Dombrowski…”

“Ah, that reminds me,” Altonicus turned to Pomni. “Ms. Shutnyk, I cannot thank your family enough for assisting my father with that suit. I couldn’t have completed medical school without the funds we earned back from Dombrowski.”

Pomni had a sip of tea. It was a touch bitter, but it alleviated her cotton-mouth.

“I would say ‘thank my father,’ but I did assist him with much of the mathematics, as well as parsing through the contracts. It’s a miracle we caught it when we did, or Mr. Dombrowski may have had the chance to hide his misdeeds more competently.”

She wanted to bite off the rim of her teacup upon seeing Altonicus’s expression waver. Fantastic job, Pomni. One of the only beastfolk in this family that already liked you, and you implied his father was incompetent in his own home. A simple “you’re very welcome, Dr. Krolik” would have been enough!

“Alton, dear!” Kali interjected. “I did tell you I ran into Pomni in town two days ago, did I not?”

Pomni blinked. In town? She would hardly call the ferry “in town,” but she was humiliated enough about her response earlier that she held her tongue.

“Did you know I saw her reading Humidity?” Kali asked, grinning.

“Oh, the Houston novel I got for your 28th birthday! Are you a fan of hers, Ms. Shutnyk?” Altonicus asked.

“I’ve read everything she’s ever written. She’s an inspiration…” Pomni answered reverently.

“I agree! I’ve always found her prose to be-”

Altonicus immediately fell silent as Drexl strode into the tea room. The blue rabbit raised an eyebrow.

“You’re discussing that female author again, Altonicus?” he asked. Pomni tightened her grip on her cup at the way Drexl emphasized “female,” like some sort of pejorative.

“Yes, sir. Ms. Shutnyk is a fan of her work, and I wished to discuss it with her.” Altonicus said.

Drexl hummed in acknowledgement, picking up a tea cake and examining it. “Your father tells me that you’re an avid reader, Ms. Shutnyk. You’ll find that each member of my brood is quite well read, so you can rest assured that you aren’t among plebeians.”

“That was not a worry of mine, Mr. Krolik.” Pomni set her teacup down on her saucer. She managed eye contact with Drexl. “May I ask you a question?”

A few seconds of deafening silence passed. Pomni kept her blue eyes on Drexl’s yellow. Pomni felt her skin itch all over, and idly scratched her left arm with her right hand, yet she kept her eyes locked on the larger beastman’s.

“You may,” he answered at last. Drexl’s face remained placid, and his tone even, yet the aura of the room had shifted. He was not accustomed to being asked a question without his express permission to do so, especially from a human woman that only came up to his sternum at most.

“May I ask what you enjoy reading, Mr. Krolik? What is your favorite novel, if you can choose? I’ve been ever so curious.” Pomni asked.

Drexl opened his mouth and placed the entire cake into his maw. For a moment, Pomni could see sharp canines. He chewed the cake, keeping his yellow searchlight eyes directly on Pomni. She briefly looked away to brush non existent cake-crumbs from her dress, then looked back at him.

“Say, father-” Osvaldo began, but Drexl swallowed and tilted his head towards him, leaving his eyes on Pomni.

“Peace, Osvaldo. I haven’t answered our guest.”

The gray rabbit immediately sank into his chair. “Yes, sir.”

“My favorite novel would be Long, Long Ago by Geoffrey Kane,” Drexl finally said.

Pomni smiled. “Ah, what an excellent character study. I read that in secondary school. In fact, I wrote an essay comparing it to The Iron Rings by Connie McGregor for my literacy course. While I believe Kane has excellent prose, McGregor has a better understanding of the struggles of a working class woman, due to her time working as a secretary for her husband Theodore. You might enjoy that novel, it’s a contemporary to Long, Long Ago. Even if it is written by a ‘female.’”

Drexl made a noise of acknowledgement. The others at the table kept their gazes elsewhere, busying themselves with finishing their tea or dabbing their mouths with napkins, but their eyes were bright and alert.

Pomni bowed her head. “Forgive me, sir. I have a tendency to ramble when it comes to my favorite subjects. I’ve completely monopolized the conversation. Osvaldo, you wished to speak?”

Osvaldo’s reply was cut short, as Zuzanna and a green-furred rabbit in a brown waistcoat entered the room.

“Boone, natychmiast idź umyć ręce!” Zuzanna fussed, trying to block the green rabbit’s way into the tea room.

“I told you already, I have! Do you wish for me to boil them as well?!”

Drexl cleared his throat sharply. Boone looked up at his father, then his eyes darted about the room rapidly. They hardly sat in one spot for even a half-second before falling onto Pomni.

“Ah. Ms. Shutnyk is here,” Boone said. “Apologies for arriving late, father. Zuzanna always insists I sterilize myself like I’m prepping for a vivisection.”

Boone crossed the room mid speech, stooping absurdly low to shake Pomni’s hand.

“How do you do?” he asked, wearing a discourteous grin.

Pomni felt the corner of her mouth twitch, both at the jab at her height and his mockery of her nervous salutations from their first meetings. She kept her face placid and gripped his hand firmly.

“Good evening, Boone,” she said, her tone frosty.

The third-eldest brother’s irritating smile faltered at her accusatory tone, but he regained it upon seeing Jax, who had hardly budged since Boone entered the room. Boone clapped him on the left shoulder firmly enough for his entire body to flinch.

“And how is my baby brother? Enjoying yourself on Primum Peccatum, away from all us riffraff?” he asked, holding both of Jax’s shoulders and leaning towards his left ear.

“I’m well,” was Jax’s curt reply. Boone grinned even wider and mussed up the fur on Jax’s head, the purple rabbit blinking slowly and combing it back the way it was with his fingers.

“Kolacja jest gotowa!” Zuzanna announced, having regained her sunny demeanor.

“Ah, splendid, I’m famished!” Boone headed for the door, only for Drexl to sharply extend an arm to his side, cutting off Boone’s advance.

“Boone, you are to follow me to the dining room.” Drexl ordered quietly.

“Yes, father…” Boone replied. Drexl turned to look down at him and Boone shrank. “Yes, sir.”

Drexl turned his head back to its original position, Boone dejectedly walking back to the table as everyone got to their feet to follow the patriarch out of the room. Pomni felt a gloved hand, damp with sweat, gripping her own. She looked from it to Jax, who stared forward. Pomni put her eyes forward as well, but surprised herself by giving Jax’s hand an assuring squeeze as they followed after Drexl into the dining room.

—

Pomni enjoyed salads and crudités, but had never seen a meal that consisted only of salad. Usually, a salad came first, followed by the main course, then tea and dessert. But the only full dish on the dining room table was an enormous salad in a glass bowl about the size of a fisherman’s creel. It contained just about every kind of vegetable (notably missing sweet corn) and a rich, pink-red sauce. This, along with some dinner rolls and butter and a bottle of Silurian pinot noir, aged exactly 30 years, were the only additions.

Pomni ate slowly and unobtrusively, folding over the large lettuce leaves to fit onto her fork. The dressing tasted quite good, not too rich and with vibrant flavor, although it probably would fill her stomach less than the few bites she had of the tea cake earlier. Just as well, her appetite failed to improve.

Kali and Boone had the most food on their plates. Pomni supposed that Kali’s appetite was what contributed to her voluptuous figure. Pomni was jealous in a way. She could eat an entire patisserie and still look underweight. Truthfully, her figure didn’t matter to her , but if she looked “healthy,” less people would stare.

Jax prodded at his food with his fork. The laudanum must have been bothering his stomach. They would have to address that issue after things settled down.

Drexl had thankfully taken his eyes off of her, looking down at his plate. His maw was enormous, but he ate neatly, being able to fit entire dinner rolls into his mouth without any crumbs drifting onto his waistcoat.

“This is all delicious. moje gratulacje, Zuzanna.” Altonicus said. Zuzanna smiled and nodded in response.

“I must agree. This is wonderful. Is this a dish you enjoy often?” Pomni asked.

“Rabbitfolk such as us require a high amount of raw vegetables in our diet,” Altonicus chuckled. “So yes, we enjoy a lot of salads.”

“I’d appreciate having more salads. New Hirnantian food can be so bland…” Pomni said, eating a slice of cucumber off her fork, chewing and swallowing. “We have excellent fish, but only excellent fish.”

“You furless are lucky you can enjoy all different kinds of food. Fish, red meat, poultry… there is something satisfying about hunting and catching and preparing your own food!” Boone declared.

“And you would know this… how, Boone?” Drexl asked.

“Well…” Boone began.

“Need I remind you, you’ve only killed one animal in your life. Which animal was that, Boone?” Drexl asked. His tone was laced with acrimony, though he didn’t look up.

Boone sank in his chair. His yellow, frantic eyes flicked from person to person, and he tapped his heel rapidly on the floor. Everyone else kept their eyes on their meals. However, he caught Pomni’s eye before she could look away.

“You find my countenance intriguing, Miss Shutnyk?” he asked.

“Boone.” Jax sighed.

“I’m making conversation with the newest member of the family, brother. That is the entire purpose of this exercise, is it not?” Boone replied.

Pomni swallowed, not wanting to aggravate tensions any more.

“I was looking at you, Boone, I apologize for not speaking up. I was wondering why you and your brothers have different-colored fur.”

Pomni already knew the answer. Rabbitfolk, much like many other beastfolk, had a unique gene that made their fur multicolored, indeterminate of hereditary traits. It was shared with shapefolk.

“Ah, I know the answer to that one, Miss Shutnyk,” Altonicus said. “You see-”

“Alton, she was speaking to me,” Boone interjected.

“Your brother is a doctor, Boone, you are not.” Drexl said, again without looking up.

“Father, with all due respect, I can answer that!” Boone snapped. “One hardly needs a degree to discuss basic physiology. Anyone with the paws to open a textbook could answer that!”

Kali poured herself more wine.

“Boone, we have company, please…” Altonicus soothed.

“I’m merely stating the truth. I’m treated as a simpleton, unable to answer even the most elementary of queries, simply because Alton has some papers from an institute?”

“Boone Templeton Krolik,” Drexl thundered. His voice reverberated throughout the dining room. “Do not speak out of turn again, am I understood?”

Pomni thought about standing up and defenestrating herself through the nearest window. She shouldn’t have even opened her mouth…

Boone picked up his wine glass and drained the entire thing. A trail of red slid down the green fur on his chin, and he wiped it away with the back of his hand.

“Ms. Shutnyk,” Drexl said, turning to Pomni. “In understand that you’re well read. Have you read The Gray Accord?”

Pomni nodded. “Of course, sir. I’m well acquainted with it. I’m a good friend of the Gray Sister on our island’s chapter. We have discussions about the book.”

Pomni wisely kept the fact that she wasn’t particularly religious to herself. She mostly read The Gray Accord for its interesting parables and proverbs, she found most of the actual dogma within the text rather pompous and belittling of her gender. She didn’t even feel comfortable telling Ragatha that…

“Then you’re aware of Book Four, Verse 30 line 3.”

Ah, here it was. Book 4 was the premium source of quotations for all the zealots who liked to tell anyone that slightly diverged from their narrow-minded ideals that they were doomed to a dark eternity.

“I am. If I’m not mistaken, that is the verse detailing the roles a husband and wife should play in union, correct?”

“Very good, your memory is as sharp as your father said. The passage says ‘The will of the father is absolute, second only to the will of The Allfather.” Drexl said.

Pomni nodded. “That’s correct. Did you know that some clerics debate the phrasing of that passage? You see, in the original translation-”

“Ms. Shutnyk, I didn’t quote this passage to discuss theology with you.” Drexl said.

“Ah… I… I apologize.” Pomni felt herself shrink.

“I bring it up because I intend to exercise my Allfather-given right as a father to conscript Jax into my company. Altonicus’ practice is a lucrative one, and Jax’s marriage to you will bring in a tidy profit, but Osvaldo, Boone and Jax are the only ones left to inherit my business. And I have… my hesitations about Osvaldo and Boone’s financial literacy.”

“Father-!” Boone cried.

“Hush, Boone. The reason that I-” Drexl began.

“I haven’t done anything! Osvaldo has no ambition beyond singing! Isn’t that right, Ozzy?”

“Boone…” Osvaldo pleaded, but his younger brother continued on.

“He was planning on singing at Jax’s wedding! He would rather go behind your back than inherit your business!”

“Boone!” Osvaldo gasped.

“Oh. That was meant to be a secret, wasn’t it?” Boone put a paw to his mouth in mock horror. “Well, I’m sorry, Ozzy, but I simply can’t sit idly by and-”

There was a pop and a splash as Drexl shattered the wine glass in his hand. Kali cried out in alarm. Red wine and blood dribbled off of Drexl’s paw onto the white tablecloth, staining the sleeve of his green waistcoat a vague brown color. Shards of glass tinkled to the floor, Drexl looking down at his cut open paw pad. Jax kept his eyes firmly on the floor, bracing for the worst.

“Zuzanna,” was all Drexl said.

“Tak jest,” the maid said, hurrying to grab a washcloth.

Drexl removed a green handkerchief from his breast pocket, pulling a glass shard from his paw pad before tying the handkerchief one-handed around his wound.

“Osvaldo, Boone. Go wait in my study.” Drexl ordered, his voice icy.

Boone rolled his eyes and got to his feet, exiting the dining room. Osvaldo rose shakily, his voice quavering.

“Sir, I-”

“Now.”

Osvaldo made a noise like a smothered sob and moved for the exit. Pomni suddenly rose to her feet.

“I would love it,” she declared.

“Pomni…” Jax said reflexively, but she continued.

“I would love it if you sang at our wedding, Osvaldo. Send me a letter about what you’d like to perform, won’t you?”

“That’s quite enough. Osvaldo, begone.” Drexl ordered.

The gray rabbit turned and left without another word. Drexl walked towards the exit as well, holding his injured paw up. He paused and turned towards the table.

“I will be down in a moment,” he said. “Please remain where you are, everyone.”

With that, he left the room.

“…I’m very sorry, Ms. Shutnyk. My family is argumentative at the best of times.” Altonicus said, dabbing his forehead with a clean napkin.

“Jax? Are you quite alright?” Kali asked.

Jax lifted up his head. He looked on the verge of being sick. “I’m quite alright. We should-”

“Really be thinking of leaving.” Pomni finished, getting to her feet and smoothing out her dress.

Jax looked up at her. “Pomni, we can’t leave yet.”

“Yes we can. It’s actually fairly simple. We simply get permission from the master of the house, and walk out the front door.” Pomni replied, helping her fiancé to his feet.

“Pomni, we can’t, my father will-” Jax began.

“What? Be cross with us? He’s already cross, and I think the both of us have had quite enough of this. We shall dismiss ourselves, politely.”

Pomni looked over at Altonicus and Kali, who had also gotten to their feet.

“I’m… I’m sorry. The two of you have been nothing but hospitable. Assuredly, none of this is your doing. But I’d like to leave. Seeing as how your father and brothers are indisposed, that would make you the master of the house. May I have your permission to leave?”

Altonicus looked from Pomni, to Jax, to Kali, who nodded. He matched her nod and looked back at Pomni.

“Yes, feel free to leave. Thank you for coming… I believe we will be excusing ourselves as well.” Altonicus said. “Jax, are you quite alright? You look ill.”

“I’m fine,” Jax muttered. “Just fine.”

“I’m sorry things turned out this way,” Kali said. “I quite enjoyed your company, Miss Shutnyk.”

“It’s… quite alright. Really, it is. Goodbye for now. And tell Osvaldo I’m quite serious about our wedding.”

Pomni and Jax went back to the atrium, passing Zuzanna in the hallway. She said something to them in Ediacaran, but was in too much of a hurry to do much of anything else. Pomni hurriedly tugged her pumps on, glancing over her shoulder at the spiral staircase many times before heading out with Jax. The rabbitman didn’t bother putting on his shoes, and once he was outside, vomited profusely into the shrubbery.

“I see now why you never wish to return, Jax…” Pomni said.

“I… I’m sorry… that you had to go through that…” Jax muttered, coughing.

Pomni nibbled on her already thoroughly chewed thumbnail. “No, I’m sorry. That you had to grow up with it. Is your stomach sated? Or do you need to… release more?”

“I am… well enough for now. We should head back to the ferry before my father comes downstairs.” Jax said.

The two of them walked in silence through the small grove of plum trees. The night air felt quite refreshing on Pomni’s bare skin. She turned and looked back at the Krolik Estate.

From one of the windows, she could see Osvaldo and Boone, lined up with their backs to the glass. It must have been Drexl’s study, as Pomni could see a large wooden desk and a collection of books in a shelf. The large blue rabbit himself approached the two smaller rabbits. He looked at them for a long while before suddenly striking them both across the face with his open palm. Boone flinched and held a hand to his face, but Osvaldo nearly fell to the ground, quivering from pain and fear. Drexl grabbed the gray rabbit by the face and said something to him, Pomni distinctly making out the words “be a man” across his lips. Osvaldo’s face glimmered with tear streaks.

She felt a lump bulge in her throat as she turned to leave out the iron gate with Jax. As greatly as she desired to, there was little she could do to remedy the situation.

At least, not yet.

[enkvyu]

ENOUGHHHH with the spiderman!jujutsu kaisen angst☹️☹️ spiderman!jjk with blackcat!reader when🙏🙏

i was gonna write a 4k oneshot for this but it was taking too long SO take this super short drabble (?) instead. i'll post the oneshot in a few days if i can finish it in time. thanks for the ask it was sm fun to write !!

6:26pm — getou suguru ;

you knock on the big red door in front of you, and dread the moment it opens. the rain slides down your costume and you rub a hand over your arms, cold.

everything felt odd. never in a million years did you ever imagine yourself waiting outside this suburban home, still in your supervillain attire, acting less like a feisty cat and more like a soggy stray. the comparison is enough to make you grimace. you can feel the usual flame of determination and confidence whimper under the crying skies and you think nothing could make this worse.

unfortunately for you, the person you least wanted to see in this moment opens the door, and their mouth drops open when they see you there, latex black costume still adorned, mask still on, water soaking you down to your bones.

"it isn't good to stare, spiderman." you manage to smirk.

getou closes his mouth with effort and sighs, turning to the side to let you in. he glances side to side, but there would be no one out in the streets at two in the morning. "black cat, just because you found out who i am doesn't mean you can use my place to crash."

you step in and the warmth of a home cuts you deeper than the cold. still, you shake it off along with your hair, combing through knots with your hand and claws. "don't you think you can cut a poor, little kitty like me some slack? where's your sympathy?"

"where's your tact?" getou shoots back, closing the door and reaching over his couch to grab a sweater. he throws it at you. "here, wear this. i don't need my roommate to find out that i'm harbouring a criminal."

you gladly put it in, taking off your whip and placing it on his coffee table. you go to make yourself comfortable when you find him staring at you. "cat got your tongue? they're lying, you know, flattery can definitely get you places. especially with me."

"when are you going to take off your mask?” he asks instead. “you already know who i am.”

"you shouldn’t ask a girl her secrets."

getou blanches. "you're literally in my living room. i'll throw you out on the streets if you keep acting tough especially since you're in no position to be doing that." he walks over to you and you have to force yourself not to flinch when he starts adjusting his sweater on you, the material already damping.

neither of you mention it.

"i was betrayed."

geotu doesn't say anything, just hums to let you know he's listening.

"it was meant to be a simple mission on a yacht. who knew men had more bones than the one in their dicks. i didn't expect any of them to have a backbone but the next thing i knew, i was in the ocean, my loot taken from me."

"so now you're here." getou sums up.

you shrug. "now i'm here."

"but why are you here, is my question."

"i'm just a stray cat now, no place to go no home to call her own. i thought perhaps visiting an older lover would get me going again." you smile up at him, hoping that he’ll take the bait.

he stops his tidying hands that had long finished its purpose and looks at you. "you’re soaked to the bone. do you want to take a shower?"

you think he's getting too good deflecting you, too good at treating you like you weren't black cat. did he think you were a joke, a pathetic, pale reflection of your usual persona just because you had sought him out for help? if there was anything you hated, it was being treated like you were fragile and broken.

you push him in the chest, tucking your feet behind his so he falls hard on his back. you lean over him, hair tumbling over your shoulder and tickling the side of his face. "is that an invitation?" you purr, running your fingers down his chest slowly.

there's a red that's creeping up his face and you think you've won when his hand reaches up and grabs yours, halting its movement. "i'm not in costume right now." he responds and you tilt your head at his random words. "i'm not spiderman right now. you don't have to force yourself to act a certain way."

you freeze before shaking off his grip. it falls away easily, but his gaze is as steady as ever. "playing hard to get?"

"black cat." he says.

"i'm not acting. this is how i usually am."

he frowns as you fidget with the neckline of his shirt. "would you tell me if we were still together?"

you look up at him. "you are so good at saying the worst things possible. you could have said anything in this situation and that's what you came up with?"

he blinks and glances away awkwardly. "it was just a thought."

"maybe it's better that we're over. you don't even know who i am underneath this mask."

getou traces the edges of it and you let him, feeling the familiar caress, the familiar scratch of his callouses that remind you he is just like you, another person hiding under a mask, another person juggling an ordinary persona and the responsibility of great power.

one of his fingers tucks underneath the black material before pausing. "can i?"

for a second, you almost let him do it, heart leaping to your throat.

a single droplet that had been clinging to the front bangs of your hair, falls, and slides down on the space between your eyes before splashing on his cheek. the sight is enough to bring you to your senses.

you interlace his hand on your cheek and drag it away, holding it still against the floor beside his head. his face falls and he gives you a slight smile, like he expected it.

"that's a no, spiderman."

getou looks at you and it's the type of look he gets when he says the wrong thing at the wrong time. "it wasn't you, it was me."

"oh god, spider, you do not get to say that corny shit to me."

"but it was me." he says. "i couldn't make it right between us because of the hero thing and well, you're not exactly the best person to have as a hero, but i still want the best for you, i hope you know. like, i still think about you sometimes and i wonder if you're doing well and, god i'm doing it again aren't i."

"yeah you are."

"but your breathing is getting choppy."

"so is yours."

"oh god."

he doesn't lean in and you don't either. instead, you keep playing with his sweater, hoping that the atmosphere will lighten and return to something comfortable. keep him on his toes, keep him red and hanging off your every word, keep him trailing after you. it was never supposed to turn on you like this.

but getou knows better. he doesn't even tense under your trailing finger and you think, "that's no fun" but you would be lying if you said that was your only thought. he doesn't give you the reaction you want, so eventually you stop and sink into his chest. he wraps his arms around you and it feels so natural, so familiar that you could almost sob.

but even you wouldn't risk such a big loss to your image, so you stay quiet.

"i'm taken now, you know." getou clears his throat awkwardly, and you feel the rumble under you. "so don't think this is anything."

you laugh in his embrace. "just friends."

"right. just friends."

i know this didn't have any of the black cat x spiderman dynamic, for one black cat (you 🫵) is literally going through it but that's because i sped wrote this 😭 the oneshot i'll post later this week (?) will have the usual banter but w gojo intead, i just got hit with some severe writer's block and thought hey what's super easy to write : angst !!

[thekingofthenameless]

Drops 2.4K of Unforgivable. and runs away

Merlin: He wakes up in an unfamiliar room. He forces the panic that threatens to drown him in its ocean down, (it’s still there, making his body hot, but at least he can think somewhat clearly) focusing on his surroundings. He squints in the dim light, hoping his eyes will adapt quickly. It… seems like a dungeon. A nasty, pungent one, at that. The scent of urine and feces combine to make a horrid smell that makes him cough and wrinkle his nose in disgust. More than likely, it's what woke him. He’ll definitely have to bathe and wash his clothes once he gets out of here. But why is he being held captive in the first place? He hasn’t been blindfolded, and no clothing has been taken off; his piercings are still in as well. (Thank the other gods for that mercy.) However, his hands are bound behind his back, and his ring is gone. They must have known it's his weapon. But how? They know you, the voices say, unbidden. He brushes them off. Who would know him and want to capture him? He shifts a little, trying to get more comfortable to alleviate the pain in his back- There’s something on his wrists besides the ropes. But what…? Magical suppressants. He’s cut off from his domain. He frantically begins searching for any sort of sharp object that would cut the ropes, but there’s nothing, only stone walls and floors, a few torches here and there. Of course they wouldn’t leave anything, with however they captured him. He struggles in vain to remember something, anything of what happened. His memory is shit, (and it had been even before his madness started, because apparently, being the god of magic doesn’t mean being granted a good memory) but it’s never been this bad. Did they give him some kind of mind wiping spell or potion? If they did, it had to have been a spell; no taste of anything foreign is in his mouth. And Charlie’s gone. The literal pain in his heart is proof of that, and it's all too obvious now that he's noticed. Does he feel it too? Where is he? Did he avoid being captured, unlike him? If he didn't, is he somewhere else in this dammed place? All right, calm down. A god cannot panic. Think. Why would they have wiped your mind? They must not want him to know the journey here. A cold sense of dread grips him, replacing the panic. He’d easily admit that he gets paranoid thoughts often, but there’s nothing good about taking someone captive and wiping their mind so they won’t know where you took them. He forces himself to take a deep breath. In through the nose, (at least he’s already getting used to this terrible air, and that lets him focus more) out through the mouth. The first thing to do would be getting his hands unbound, so he can take off these magic suppressing cuffs. The sooner, the better. Just because he feels fine now doesn’t mean he will later. And no matter what they captured him for, (questioning? Blackmail? Something else?) he’s not going to let them get hurt if he ends up not being able to control his magic. He tries not to think about the damage he could cause. (Of the lives he could end.) Footsteps alert him to someone’s presence. His brow furrows as he listens, turning his head so that he can hear better. He could swear that… he recognizes them, but that doesn’t make sense. Does it? Either way, with a little bit of luck, they’ll at least release him from the cuffs if he acts like the perfect, docile captive. When their guards are lowered, he can escape, find his companion, and forget this ever happened. Taking a deep breath, he prepares himself for the stranger he’ll have to face.

Instead, Mordecai steps out of the shadows. He doesn’t seem to notice the stench down here. Confusion replaces his trepidation (and panic), but at least he doesn’t have to put on a mask yet. “Mordecai? What are you doing here-” He did this. They were right about your captor knowing you. That’s how they knew your ring is your weapon. He’s seen you use it, seen you fight. No, he wouldn’t do this. …That’s true, isn’t it? He isn’t surprised to see you captive. Of course he knows you’re captive, idiot. He came down here. Unless he hadn’t known who the prisoner was before. But he does seem to. Mordecai stares at him silently, watching the different emotions flickering across his face. He resents his expressiveness for a moment, wishing he could hide under a layer of indifference. “You brought me here,” he says quietly. He could be wrong, but he highly doubts it. His acquaintance laughs. “Oh, that was quick. If you keep figuring out things at that speed, this could get boring.” He glares at him, futilely attempting to ignore the ache in his chest. (It’s there for two reasons now.) Someone else betrayed him. So what? He still has Charlie. Wherever he is. Taking a moment to clear his mind (or attempt to), he sends a message to his familiar. “Charlie, where are you? Are you all right?” He waits anxiously, trying not to get his hopes up but not give into despair at the same time. So instead, he demands answers. “Why? What do you want from me?” Before the man can reply, he continues, “Where is Charlie? If you’ve hurt him in the slightest-” “Calm yourself, wizard,” Mordecai interrupts, and if his hands were free, he’d give him a certain gesture. With both hands. “We only have… a few questions for you.” “Well, depending on what they are, maybe you could have asked them before you decided to capture me. And who else is here?” Suddenly, a white woman, with red hair braided over her right shoulder, and brown eyes (who he hadn’t even heard, because he’s been so focused on Mordecai) walks up beside the latter, putting a hand on his shoulder and caressing it. Ugh, are they courting? Married? “You have someone angry with you, wizard.” Her voice sounds soft, but it carries a dangerous undertone that makes him stiffen. Amidst wondering who the person is, and why they’re angry, it’s incredibly clear that she doesn’t even bother looking at him. And like Mordecai, she shows no signs of caring about the awful air. He studies her. His facial recognition is as shitty as his memory, but he’s almost certain he’s never met her before. Almost. Finally, she glances at him; her expression changes into disgust. “What’s wrong with his eyes?” She asks her suitor? Husband?, turning to him.

“Have you ever heard of something called being born with magic?” Merlin replies, raising an eyebrow. “It’s incurable.” Most know about them, even if seeing their color in person still surprises them, sometimes. It makes sense, even if he does get tired of being on the receiving end of the same reactions over and over. Reading about bright blue eyes, with orange rings near their pupils, against dark brown skin isn’t nearly the same thing as being able to stare into them. …Does she not know who he is? She glowers at him, and he returns it. “Of course,” she says haughtily, “but they’re still unsettling. They should be brown.” Mordecai suddenly laughs, and they both look at him. “I don’t think you should talk to Merlin that way, whether he’s currently tied up or not.” The woman’s mouth drops open in shock, eyes widening; she stares at both of them, unable to believe it. “That’s Merlin? He’s Merlin?” All right, suspicions confirmed. But why would Mordecai not have told her his name? “I wanted to surprise you by having the most powerful wizard alive in our dungeon, my love,” is his reply. Oh. Our dungeon. Do you even know him at all I… thought I did. He still hasn’t said what he wants from you. And Charlie hasn’t… “Charlie, please answer me.” There’s still silence. Not even a flicker of his telepathy being received. The ache in his chest becomes worse, harder to ignore. Why isn’t he answering? He notices Mordecai taking her hand and kissing it, but he’s unable to feel disgust like most of the time, even with pet names. “Are you?” Smirking, she reaches up to stroke his cheek. “Very.” Somehow, he keeps his face neutral, despite being divided between fear, anger, and laughing at the sheer irony. If you’re this happy now, imagine knowing you actually captured a god. She removes her hand from Mordecai’s cheek, walking over to him; she stares at him the whole time, assessing, and he has to fight the urge to twitch under the weight of her eyes. Once she reaches him, she roughly grips his chin, tilting his head up. She smells like sandalwood, soft and warm, completely opposite to how she’s treating him. “You’re not what I expected Merlin to look like at all.” He just stares at her, face unchanging. Inwardly, confusion and annoyance are simultaneously present. What does she want him to say to that? What does anyone who tells him that? “You have no idea how many times I’ve heard that. Is it a compliment in this case?” He questions, putting on a fake smile. And get your hands off me. “No,” she says bluntly. Ignoring his smile changing to an insulted expression, she continues, “Do you know how you got here?” He shakes his head mutely. He’s been able to begin suppressing some of his emotions, and now he has to play his part of being weak, compliant, no matter how much he hates acting like this. “I don’t remember. What did you do to me?” He asks, pitiful and pleading. Mordecai laughs a second time, and the sound grates against his ears. “Docile so soon? I thought you’d put up more a fight. I’m a little disappointed in you.” When you kidnapped me? Fuck you. He lowers his gaze, which is easy, because he refuses to look into their eyes. “Fighting when captive only brings punishment.” The woman, who he still doesn’t know the name of, hums in agreement, finally releasing his chin. “You’re right. You seem smarter than some give you credit for.” He keeps his gaze lowered, even as the backhanded compliment gets under his skin. “Do you have Charlie?” “Now, why would we tell you that?” Mordecai replies, tone condescending under a veil of faked gentleness.

Fear and hopelessness constrict his heart. He manages to keep his shoulders from stiffening, but his emotions are exposed, raw, and they both know. It’s in their eyes, on their faces. They must be showing on his own, his façade of suppression shattered, because he still doesn’t know if his dragon is all right, if he escaped, and Mordecai’s betrayal still hurts- The man laughs a third time, reveling in seeing him like this for some reason, and anger rises in his chest, the different emotions swirling around in him bringing tears to his eyes. “Why do you care so much? He’s just a pet, even if he can speak.” “No, he’s not!” He cries, the anger burning hot and bright now. His bonds feel tighter than ever, his magic aching to be released, so he can teach them to never call his familiar a pet again. “Tell me where he is!” “Hmm, you were right, darling,” the woman says calmly, unfazed by his fury. “Right about what?” He demands, done with their condescension, their evasiveness, their kidnapping him just to have him answer a few questions. Mordecai smiles, and it’s a sharp, dangerous one that he’s seen from Gunnar, and his mouth goes dry, heart pounding as he remembers his father, who’s always soaked in blood, the battlefields, the bodies- His lips move, but Merlin doesn’t hear what comes out of his mouth. “What?” He mutters dumbly past the rising lump in his throat, feeling like he’s drowning, even with his smile gone. Mordecai’s brows furrow, seeing the terror on his face, wondering why since he has no way of knowing, but he answers anyways: “The way to get to you is through the dragon.” With that, he smiles again, smug this time, and he wants to punch it right off the man’s face. Theres no way for him to refute his statement, but he doesn’t care. “Mordecai, where is he?” He only clicks his tongue. “Goodness, Merlin. You can’t even deny it.” His tears begin falling, slipping down his cheeks despite his efforts. He glares at both of them through his blurring vision, wanting his companion more than anything. “Already in tears, wizard?” The woman mocks, smirking, and he hates both of them, and he wants Charlie to respond, and escape and find him and forget this ever happened- “We haven’t even gotten started yet.” “Unsurprising, really.” Mordecai moves closer, and… strokes his cheek, uncaring of him not wanting his touch, or the tears still streaming down his face, refusing to stop. “He’s so softhearted.” “What did I even do to you?” He sobs. Despair begins to settle over him, suffocating him, no matter how much he’s trying to stay strong. “Charlie, please. Please let me know you’re all right.” Silence. He sobs harder. “Shh…” Mordecai murmurs, not stopping his motions. “It’s not what you did to us. It’s what you did to a friend.” “Who?” The panic returns, gripping him in a vice, and he can’t remember who he could have slighted, only able to think of his family, of Charlie, and why- “I suppose it’s time to get them now, isn’t it, darling?” The woman asks. He can’t see her expression. His vision is blocked from Mordecai’s body in front of him and his tears. Another sob tears from his throat, his body becoming hot, stomach twisting into knots, breaths becoming harsh and ragged.

Mordecai nods and steps away, and he can’t even be relieved at the fact that his hand is gone because he’s terrified of what’s coming. Who are the other people? What did he do? What do they want to do to him? Where’s his dragon? He can’t be unconscious. He has to either be asleep or too far away to hear him. When has he ever been that far away? (He hasn’t.) No, he’s fine. He’s fine. He can’t be captive like he is, muzzled so he can’t use his jaws or fire, wings tightly tied in ropes or clipped-

[a-b-riddle]

Taken Chapter Twelve: Reasoning

Warnings: Religious Trauma, Cult, Forced Marriage, Kidnapping, Stalking, Stockholm Syndrome, Non-Con, Dub-Con. Violence against women. Threats and intimidation. Childhood Trauma.

"Good girl." He rubbed her cheek affectionally with his thumb. His condescending words of praise made her stomach churn. His eyes caught at the time on his watch. Elizabeth tried not to let out a sigh of relief as he pulled his hand off of her face.

"It's getting late." He noted, standing up. "Time to call it a night." She wanted to say how the movie wasn't even over yet, but thought better of it. Hell, she hadn't even been paying attention to it for the last half hour, but the idea of going to bed.... with him... What little she ate for dinner was itching to come back up again.

Bucky pushed himself off of her and held out his hand. 'What a gentleman.' She thought bitterly although her face was able to mask any disgust she felt. Elizabeth had played this game before and knew it all too well. Her moment of hesitation prompted Bucky to pick her up.

With the same swiftness as before, he scooped her up in a typical heroic fashion that would have normally have her swooning, but now it has lost its' magic. Lucky for him, her tiredness outweighed her resentment. Her body couldn't muster up the strength to recoil from his proximity. Maybe it was the drugs of whatever he had given her still lingering in her system or the adrenaline high she had been sporting for most of the day. Either way, there was no fight in her left. For now. Even Bucky could feel her relaxing as she became dead weight in his arms, her head resting against his chest.

 "Tomorrow will be better."  Bucky's promise fell on deaf ears, but, like any man, he continued to speak regardless. "We'll get more food in you and press restart on our vacation."

"This isn't a vacation, Bucky." She replied before she could think. She looked up, expecting to see a scowl or a look that meant that she had ruined what he believed to be a nice evening. Instead she saw what appeared to be... disappointment? But no anger. Oddly enough. Solemn, perhaps, was more fitting? She continued, hoping to invoke some sort of empathy.   "You are hurting me by keeping me here."

"How?" Surely he was joking. Caging a woman, his partner, like a damn feral animal he hoped to domesticate. "It's not any different than being in the city."

"What?" She questioned as he began to ascend the stairs. "It's very different, Bucky. I'm not here willingly." She was being bold. She knew it was stupid, but she had lost the ability to hold her tongue.

"You're in no different predicament than you were last night." He said it so matter-of-factly it startled her.  "You were staying with me in the city because you didn't have a choice. Here at least we can work through your issues. Together, sweetheart." The man was delusional. Her issues. As she was the one who had kidnapped him. As if she were the one in the wrong.

"This is kidnapping, Bucky." She noticed how he walked right past the master and down toward the room she had slept in earlier. She didn't say anything. Not wanting to give him any indication that she wanted to sleep with him instead. "You lied to me. You took Mia." She wasn't sure why she had thrown that last bit in. Maybe its what hurt the most. Mia had been her own source of comfort, of security for as long as she had her. And that too had been stripped. Even if she were stuck here with Bucky, she wouldn't have been totally alone.

"You're acting like I sent her off to the shelter." He scoffed, walking into her room. "I'm reasonable, Bird. Once things are solid between us, we can get her back. Hell." He smiled, thinking to himself. The idea of him and her back in the city. Meeting Steve for dinner or, even better, having him over while his pretty little bird cooked for them. He could practically see it now. "Maybe even go back to the city if things go alright." He set her down on the bed. He didn't say anything else as he tucked her in as if she were a child. Elizabeth felt utterly humiliated at the act. As if she needed him touching her anymore than necessary.

He had almost shut the door when she spoke again. 

"Why wasn't..." He stopped. "Why wasn't what we had enough?" She felt pathetic, but she truly did want to know. What had been so terrible about being with her before? She had been happy and all this time, this was Bucky's plan? Had she actually been that naive to think he wanted her for who she was?

"Oh, Doll." Bucky didn't miss the hurt in her voice or the pain etched onto her face. Her eyes now glassy and teeth biting into her bottom lip as if she were holding in a cry. "It was fine for then. You were great. But you were going too slow, Doll." He tried to reassure.

It would have been less of a shock if he had slapped her. Slow? He thinks they were going slow? They hadn't even dated more than a few months before she moved in with him. They weren't even really officially dating before they slept together. If all those were slow, what the fuck was a decent pace? What was 'too fast'?

"I really want you to think..." He said, now leaning against the door frame. "What is so bad about it?" She gave him an incredulous look. "Seriously?" He crossed his arms over his broad chest. "You don't need to work and things won't be that different. Just a few adjustments and and mutual understanding on  how things are going to be."

"And that is?" She worried what his answer was going to be. She knew the route men took when it came to breaking women. Bucky was stronger than any man she had ever met. He had more resources as well. 

"You'll see."  It felt like more of a threat than a promise. "Sleep tight, Birdie." He offered her a soft smile before closing the door. The faintest sound of a clicking following, indicating that Bucky had once again locked the door. Even if she hadn't heard it, Elizabeth wouldn't delude herself into the idea that Bucky had been thorough. He had waited long enough, made her think she was safe before striking. Even now, he was playing her. He hadn't hurt her physically. He hadn't turned things sexual since last night. He was holding onto his mask that covered the monster beneath.

She knew if she wanted to get out, she had to realize Bucky was three steps ahead of her. He probably had a security alarm in place that would go off if had tried anything. It wouldn't surprise her if the lunatic had spare ropes stashed somewhere in the room if she even attempted to make it out the window. 

The only thing that was surprising was the fact that he had left her alone. Perhaps to see what she would do tonight. She knew it was foolish to react so quickly. She needed to make Bucky think she had given up. For now that was the plan. She didn't bother plotting in her head what to do after. She wouldn't let herself stay up agonizing over how to escape or when to try.

Instead, she thought of the books she had left unfinished back in the city. She thought about the smell of warm bagels and how she couldn't wait to taste coffee again. She thought of her tiny, but cozy apartment. She thought about how Christmas was coming soon and all the lights and ambience that would engulf the city.

She thought of everything, but the locked door and the psycho behind it.

[passingreviews]

Searching for Self: “Passing” Review

By Danielle Bing

Director Rebecca Hall’s debut feature length film Passing by Rebecca Hall was inspired by the 1929 novel Passing by author Nella Larsen. Hall’s career has been as an actress but in 2021 she made her directorial debut with this film. Passing follows two Black women, Irene Redfield played by Tessa Thompson and Clare Bellow played by Ruth Negga are old friends who have recently reunited. As Irene and Clare become reacquainted with each other Irene soon discovers that her childhood friend has been “passing” as a white woman. While Irene’s complexion is also light enough for to pass as well, she instead chose to live her life as a Black woman. As the film unfolds, the audience watches Irene as she questions her identity through Clare’s expression of her identity.   

Rebecca Hall’s film adaptation of Larsen’s novel came into fruition as a personal journey to understand her family’s background. During an interview with actress Uzo Aduba entitled “How Passing Was Adapted From Book To Netflix” for the But Have You Read the Book? Youtube book club webseries–Hall explained that throughout her childhood her mother seemed to have African American features however, when she questioned her mom about it she would dismiss the question. Eventually Hall’s mother revealed to her that her maternal grandfather was an African American man who chose to pass for white and the family never spoke about it. How Passing Was Adapted From Book To Netflix | But Have You Read The Book? The film, like the book, is a narrative that explores the aspects of identity and how identity forms perceptions of one’s own self and the external perceptions of other people.

What Really Made The Movie: The Details or The Acting? 

The cinematography of Passing is absolutely breathtaking! Given that this is Hall’s first feature length film one might not expect the level of intricate detail that is captured in this film. One of the strengths that can be seen throughout the film in both the details and the acting is ambiguity. The film is beautifully shot in Black and White during the 1920s in New York. This gives the film a more authentic feeling as it is a period piece. Had the movie been shot in color it would have taken away from a sense of realness that would have come from a colorized film. When the viewer watches the film closely they can see the many tones of gray and the shadows which enhance the costuming and settings. The absence of color forces the viewer to watch more closely in order to really see the details in the costumes, makeup, and props. By shooting the film in Black and White it enhances Irene and Clare’s ability to perform varying aspects of identity like race and class. Additionally, the film being shot in Black and White also makes it more difficult for the viewer to determine the skin complexions of Irene and Clare and complicates how they are perceived by others.

One of the scenes that captures the perception of how Clare and Irene are viewed well is towards the beginning of the film when Clare introduces Irene to her white husband John. Irene is surprised that Clare has a white husband. During their short conversation John makes several derogatory statements about African Americans. Irene in a sharp and direct tone asks “So, you dislike Negroes, Mr. Bellew?” John, without hesitation and in an assertive tone responds to Irene’s question stating “No, no, no, not at all. I hate them” as John and Clare laugh (Passing, 2021, 17:10 to 17:18). Irene abruptly begins to laugh in an off-putting and hysterical manner as she masks how she truly feels and does not draw any curiosity from John that would make him pay closer attention to her risking her true racial identity. This mask of laughter while uncomfortable for Irene affirms John’s racist behavior. Irene knows that if she says something to challenge John’s blatant racism she could be caught and her and potentially Clare’s safety could be jeopardized.         

The camera shots and angles force the viewer to focus on the acting of one or two characters at a time. Hall has discussed in several interviews such as: Tessa Thompson & Rebecca Hall Break Down the Dance Scene from 'Passing' | Vanity Fair and MVFF44: 'Passing' - Conversation with Rebecca Hall, Ruth Negga, Nina Yang Bongiovi that she used a 4:3 frame for most of the film which concentrates on the actor and blurs out the edges of the frame. One of scenes that shows this framing really well is during the dance scene.

The camera lens focuses on Irene and Hugh and blurs the space and background allowing the viewer to pay close attention to their conversation. Both Irene and Hugh are observing and commenting on the people in the room. As they are talking Hugh is commenting and questioning Clare because she has a commanding presence. Suddenly Hugh realizes that Clare is actually a Black woman who is “passing.” Along with Clare’s light complexion, her speech and dress simulate those of a middle-class white woman. Not only is Clare passing by race but also by socio-economic status as well making her seem so believable as a white woman. If you are not watching her very closely most people would not realize that she is a Black woman. Clare performs her whiteness so well that her own husband does not even notice that she is actually a Black woman.

Sound is one of  the most intricate aspects incorporated throughout the film. Sound makes the film compelling in several ways. From the opening seconds to the very ending of the film, sound enhances the film and supports the pace of the film. The sounds throughout the film help to signal the viewers feelings in particular moments, especially the moments when Irene’s inner self feels seen or when she is the one observing others. The undersounds of the film help to capture what is happening in a particular scene and how a character might be feeling.

The acting of the main characters: Clare and Irene make the narrative believable. Clare and Irene in particular, need one another in order for the film to work because of the personality differences of the characters. Irene needs Clare to self-reflect on her identity and who she thinks she is as she is going through a personal identity crisis. The exceptional acting by Tessa Thompson (Irene) and Ruth Negga (Clare) shine through their respectable characters. Thompson’s ability to play a character who is so uncertain of herself and Negga’s portrayal of a woman who is so free and does not conform to the labels of society are difficult to play. Once the viewer thinks that they understand a character something happens and disrupts their beliefs and makes them begin to question their knowledge of the character once again.

The Binaries of Identity: What Does It Mean to Pass?

Historically, American social structures have formed hierarchies which have shaped our understanding of identity. Social-hierarchical structures place value and provide meaning which impact how people are perceived. While a person can move between economic classes, race is often considered as a fixed category of identity. During the early-twentieth century the “one-drop” law was enacted to legally define racial status. Essentially, any person with any African ancestry became part of the Black racial group. Race is one of the most powerful social constructs, especially in America. Someone being labeled as a Black person created many societal disadvantages especially during the early-twentieth century. When a person steps outside of their assigned or assumed “category” it causes concern because they are disrupting social norms. Irene demonstrates this well in the film. Before Irene reunites with Clare, she was living a life where she conformed to society's expectations of a woman. Irene is a middle-class Black woman who adheres to the politics of respectability and tries not to draw attention to herself. Whereas Clare does not fit into a binary, does what is expected of a middle-class white woman, and welcomes the attention of others. By refusing to label herself she appears free to the viewer. So free that it can become uncomfortable or even frustrating when trying to understand Clare. 

Clare welcomes the gaze of other people, and she enjoys it. Rebecca Hall describes Clare as someone who has an identity without boundaries. During the same interview with Uzo Aduba Hall explains  “Clare is gay when she needs to be. She’s straight when she needs to be. She behaves like a man when she needs to be. She behaves like a woman when she needs to be. She’s black. She’s white. She’s this walking duality.” (How Passing Was Adapted From Book To Netflix | But Have You Read The Book?, 2021, How Passing Was Adapted From Book To Netflix | But Have You Read The Book?) She is constantly “passing”. Passing brilliantly shows the fluidity of identity rather than identity as being a fixed state. Clare’s character portrays this throughout the film as she continuously moves between race, class, sexuality, and culture. She is visible and invisible at the same time.

When viewing the film ,it is important to do so when you can focus without distractions because symbolism is incorporated everywhere in the film. From the costumes, accessories, and makeup to each prop. Hall’s usage of symbolism and foreshadowing through props and sound helps to control the pace and the feeling in different scenes. Irene is constantly dropping and breaking things. We first see her drop a flowerpot out of the front window of her home. Later , we see her at a party strongly gripping a teapot and dropping it as she stares at Clare who is receiving attention from everyone. These moments lead up to the ambiguous ending of the film. Symbolism also allows the viewer to form their own interpretations of Irene and Clare’s behaviors and emotions.

Was She Pushed? Did She Jump? Or Was It Something Else…?

Hall, like Larsen, purposely left many aspects of the film ambiguous. Making the decision not to provide all the answers to a film is unusual. However, by doing so the viewer's interpretation allows them to create their own conclusions about the characters identities, actions, and feelings. This also allows for the viewer to project their own beliefs and then reflect on them. This is skillfully done and keeps the viewer questioning, guessing, and rethinking what the characters are thinking and feeling throughout the movie and creates a constant reexamining of one’s self. 

The ending of the film leaves the audience in suspense because what happens to Clare is left untold. The ending allows the audience the ability to choose their own ending. The lack of knowing strengthens the film because it further complicates the narrative and themes within the film. As well as invites interaction from the audience by causing them to grapple with the ending of the movie and how they come to their conclusion. This allows all assumptions to be true and the film reveals that there can be more than one truth.

[oboetemasuka]

Order of Attack, part 9

"A Withering Flame"

Finally, I've written Fuuta's voice drama. And revised it. And revised it again. And used the mega shears on the dialogue because Fuuta can't use long sentences.

What a monster of a chapter. I deserve a break. Next up is a shorter one-shot.

Trigger warnings for suicidal thoughts. Haruka's situation is also briefly mentioned. There's also something about Fuuta repeatedly stopping Es from getting Shidou.

(Courtesy link to the fic; will update at some point)

----

Es entered the cell and took in the layout. Fuuta was propped up in a hospital bed, his neck and torso securely braced and his left arm in a sling. He was kneading a Jackalope stress toy with his right hand, digging his nails into it. More stress toys stood on the table to his right, and Es almost tripped on one a few feet ahead. As Fuuta saw Es approaching, he dropped what he was holding and swatted the rest out of his reach.

"Been a… while, Warden," Fuuta said. Es was expecting more malice in his tone, but he sounded like his life force was draining.

"Fuuta… you…" They pulled a chair to the side of the table and took a seat. "Are you okay?"

"…look like it?" Fuuta responded. If he was angry, his voice did a terrible job of showing it.

Es didn't know how to respond. Do I look like it? was obviously a rhetorical question, but they needed to show some tact.

After a moment, Fuuta spoke up again. "…look awful… don't I?"

Still unsure of what to say, Es nodded slightly.

"Could've been worse. Could've died."

Es stared down, pondering their next words. Several seconds passed, and then Fuuta's voice registered in their head again.

"Oi… talking to you." Fuuta's irritated glare met Es as they lifted their head.

"I'm sorry," they said, "I'm… I'm not sure what I can say."

"Don't know what to say? I almost died because of… you don't know… Even so, it's a miracle I … If Shidou had taken any longer, would've been over for me. Don't blame him, though. …Oi, say something." 

"Sor-"

"Sorry won't cut it." Fuuta sounded more pained than angry.

Es took a breath. "…Kotoko did this to you?"

"No sh… agh…" Fuuta gasped for air.

"Fuuta!" Es got up and walked to his side. "I'll go get Shidou-"

"Don't!" Fuuta's eyes betrayed his desperation. After they locked eyes for a few moments, Fuuta let out a chuckle. "Look … you … down on me, like always. Must be so happy to see…"

"I- no, I'm not. I didn't mean for this to happen. I didn't think Kotoko would-"

"Beat me to near-death? What'd you expect … you affirmed her…"

"I…"

"…thought she wouldn’t have … same crime here in… Oi, quit standing… staring…"

"I’m sorry, I didn't think-"

"Useless… apology…" 

But what else could Es do besides apologize? Stand their ground and contradict Fuuta while he was in that pitiful state?

"Really didn't think it'd… turn out… Me too. All I did… call some bad person out… say what's wrong was wrong… Their reasons were b-" Fuuta gasped and clutched his chest. Es began to turn towards the door, but Fuuta grabbed their cape with his right hand. 

Es swatted his hand away. "Hey, you can't just grab me like that."

"Don't dare…"

"Fine, I won't get Shidou. Yet." Es stood in place and waited for Fuuta to regain his voice.

"You judged me… said I was unforgivable… without the whole story… How's that any different?"

"Excuse me?"

"That's so hypo- khh!" Fuuta slammed his hand on the table, trying to play it off as an emphasis, but that didn't mask his pain.

"Careful, Fuuta! You'll hurt-" Es gave up on that concern when Fuuta glared. "Someone died because of you. You're saying I'm the same?"

"I didn't think they'd die!"

"But you knew people would dogpile them."

"I wasn't acting alone. Anyone else… out of my control… Why'd you pick me…"

"Milgram has judged-"

"Milgram doesn't make any f-"

Maybe Es should have put their foot down and called Shidou regardless of Fuuta's wishes. But something compelled them to hear him out. "Don't push yourself."

Fuuta was clearly annoyed, but he took a breath and continued. "Still don't see it? We're just the same!"

"Me? The same as you?" Es couldn't deny Fuuta's point. They both made their judgments without thinking that someone could be seriously hurt—or dead.

"I'll tell you. They were just in middle school. Maybe closer to Amane… than you…"

"Amane…" Es already knew this from what they gleaned from Fuuta's first video, but it didn't register how close in age their victims were. Wait, why were they thinking of Amane as a victim? "Amane… huh… I noticed you two have been spending a lot of time together lately."

"You kidding? Don't change the subject... You don't talk about her like… Only one who cared before everything went to hell. You made her go through it. Decided she wasn't forgivable… painted a target… She could've died too! Then we'd be exactly…"

"Don't put me on the same level as you."

"Are you not-"

"I'm just doing my job. Nobody told you to go online and decide who are bad people and harass them. You made a game out of judgment. This is what I'm supposed to do."

Fuuta laughed at Es for still failing to acknowledge their similarities. Then he winced in pain. Then he kept laughing and mocking Es for taking their job seriously. Es snapped back. A pointless, cyclical conversation. Fuuta stopped Es from calling Shidou no less than three times.

Eventually, the bell brought the conversation to a halt.

Silence.

Why was Fuuta so quiet?

"Hey… Fuuta?" Es leaned over to get a better look at his face. His eyes seemed glassy, and he seemed to be breathing more slowly. "Fuuta… I'll go get-"

"Don't. Not worth…"

"Worth what?"

"If you're not going to… forgive… what's the point… living?"

"Don't say-"

"Everything hurts so much. Painkillers don't help… Strange wonder I survived. Is it really worth it?"

"Worth it…" What could Es even say about that? Anything they could think of was either more unwanted pity or…

A cold accusation that Fuuta was bargaining his life for forgiveness. Es's thoughts flitted back to Haruka's interrogation- no, that comparison was unfair. Haruka's loaded intentions were worlds away from Fuuta's resignation. How could Es dare…

"I understand… this job requires resolve…"

"Resolve? You really have resolve… just kill me. With your own two hands. Don't hide behind the rules."

"I can't do that. I can't sink to the prisoners' level. It's my job as the warden to make a fair judgement. I… I have to judge each and every one of you… no matter how much they plead, cry, or bargain… even if they are dying right in front of me."

"What is even the point? You give a damn about my life, forgive me! If not, kill me… get it over with."

"Bargaining tactics won't work with me."

"Not like I care. Or… if I get out of this alive, I'll… kill… you…"

"Fine by me. If we truly are the same, then I'll have had it coming. Now, Prisoner no. 3, Fuuta, sing your sins."

----

Q: “What are you thinking about?”

A: “Ways to get rid of the pain”

[queen-of-the-avengers]

CATFA: Part Seven

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.4k

Warnings: canon violence, language, and angst

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

They're using Steve as a face for their brand, and he's doing shows in front of soldiers and civilians to sell bullets. They're not even using the two best weapons they have, and you hate seeing Steve dress up and go on stage every weekend. Steve's been doing this for months, and you can't believe he hasn't stood up for himself. This act has taken you across Europe and into Italy.

"I don't know if I can do this," Steve sighs.

Soldiers are watching the girls perform songs right before Steve is supposed to go out there. You refuse to put on one of those tiny outfits and strut on stage. So, they stuck you backstage to watch.

What a fucking joke.

"They're fucking stupid if this is the best they can come up with," you groan.

"There is nothing to it," the Senator's assistant says. "When you sell a few bonds, those bonds buy bullets, and bullets kill Nazis. You're an American hero."

"It's just not how I pictured getting there."

"You and me both," you sigh.

"The senator's got a lot of pull up on the hill. If you play ball with us, you'll be leading your own platoon in no time. Take the shield," the assistant says as Steve puts on his head mask. 

"Seriously? This is the best they can do?" you ask the assistant.

"I don't make the rules, doll."

"Don't call me that."

Steve walks on stage and every soldier is silent. He's used to performing for kids and families who cheer him on and clap. These soldiers give him nothing.

"How many of you ready to help me sock old Adolf on the jaw?" He gets nothing but silence. "Okay. Uh... I need a volunteer."

"I already volunteered! How do you think I got here?" one of the men shouts, and an echo of laughter follows. "Bring back the girls!" 

"I think they only know one song, but let me... I'll... I'll see what I can do," Steve stutters.

"You do that, sweetheart."

"Nice boots, Tinker Bell!" another man shouts.

Steve awkwardly walks off stage and the girls who performed come on stage again. That gets the attention of every soldier who whistles and cheers for them. Typical men. 

"Don't worry, pal. They'll warm up to you," the Senator's assistant says.

This is a nightmare. You're living in a real-life nightmare that you can't seem to escape. After the show and right before dusk, you find Steve sitting by himself. The clouds rolled in early afternoon and are giving you a light drizzle, but Steve doesn't care if he gets wet. He's depressed because he wants to fight and help others.

"Hey," you say and sit next to him. "I can stop the rain if you want."

"I don't care," he sighs.

"There you two are." You turn to find Peggy approaching you two. "I've looked everywhere for you."

"What are you doing here?" Steve asks.

"Officially, I'm not here at all. That was quite a performance."

"Yeah. I had to improvise a little bit. The crowds I'm used to are usually a lot younger."

"I understand you're 'America's New Hope'?"

"Bond sales take a ten percent bump in every place I visit."

"Is that Senator Brandt I hear?"

"At least he's got me doing this. Phillips would have had to be stuck in the lab."

"I don't get it. He knows what we can do. Why doesn't he just use us?" you sigh.

"You think these are your only two options? A lab rat or a dancing monkey? You were meant for more than this."

"For the longest time, I dreamed about coming overseas, being on the front lines, and serving my country. I finally get everything I wanted, and I'm wearing tights."

Sirens can be heard in the distance that gets louder the closer they get to base camp. You look over your shoulder and see wounded men on stretchers inside a few cars. If only you could heal others like you can heal yourself.

"They look like they've been through hell," you comment.

"These men more than most," Peggy explains. "Schmidt sent out a force to Azzano. Two hundred men went up against him, and less than fifty returned. Your audience contained what was left of the one-oh-seventh. The rest were killed or captured."

The second she says the 107th, your heart drops into your stomach. You didn't see your boyfriend in the audience, which means he's on the enemy's territory.

"No, the 107th?" you asked in horror.

"What?"

"Bucky," you say and look at Steve.

You both get up and rush over to the Colonel's tent who is busy with stuffing papers into envelopes.

"Colonel Phillips."

"Well, if it isn't the Star-Spangled Man-With-A-Plan and his secretary. What is your plan today?"

"I need the casualty list from Azzano," Steve orders.

"You do not give me orders, son."

"We need one name. Sergeant James Barnes from the 107th," you urge.

"You and I are gonna have a conversation later that you won't enjoy," the Colonel points to Peggy.

"Please tell me if he's alive, sir. B-A-R—"

"I can spell!" The Colonel cuts you off. "I have signed more of these condolence letters today than I would care to count, but the name does sound familiar. I'm sorry."

No, you refuse to believe the love of your life is dead. You shake your head and back up slowly to keep yourself from strangling the Colonel.

"No, he's not dead."

"What about the others? Are you planning a rescue mission?" Steve asks.

"Yeah! It's called winning the war."

"If you know where they are, why not at least--"

"They're thirty miles behind the lines through the most heavily fortified territory in Europe. We'd lose more men than we'd save, but I don't expect you to understand that because you're a chorus girl."

"I think we understand just fine," you growl.

"Then understand it somewhere else. If I read the posters correctly, you got someplace to be in thirty minutes," the Colonel says before leaving his desk. 

There is a map of the location of the rest of the 107th team. They're not that far from here, and you know you can save them all if you can just get over there. Based on the look Steve gives you, he sees it too. You two leave the tent and head over to yours to pack a bag. You're going to go over there and save everyone, including your boyfriend.

"What do you plan to do?" Peggy asks, following you inside your tent. "Walk to Germany?"

"He won't be walking," you smirk.

If you had to, you'd change into an animal to carry Steve all the way over to Germany.

"You heard the Colonel, your friend is most likely dead."

"No!" you shout and turn to her with an angry look in your eyes. "He's not my friend, he's my boyfriend. He's the love of my life. Until I see a body, I refuse to believe he is dead."

"The Colonel is devising a strategy. If he detects--"

"By the time he's done that, it could be too late!" Steve shouts and finished packing up. "You told me you thought I was meant for more than this. Did you mean that?"

"Every word."

"Then you gotta let us go."

It doesn't take a lot to convince Peggy to help you cross the border into Germany. She and Howard Stark can offer you a plane ride into Germany, and get you as close as they possibly can. The Colonel knows nothing of this, and even if he did, you don't care. Once you heard Bucky is in danger, nothing is stopping you from going over there and saving him.

"The Hydra camp is in Krausberg," Peggy says once you four are in the air, "tucked between two mountain ranges. It's a factory of some kind."

"We should be able to drop you right on the doorstep," Howard says from the cockpit.

"Just get us as close as you can," you say. "You two are gonna be in a hell of a lot of trouble at the lab."

"You two won't?" Peggy asks.

"Where we're going, if anybody yells at us we can just shoot them," Steve smiles.

"They will undoubtedly shoot back."

"Well, let's hope it's good for something."

Steve stole the shield, helmet, and uniform he used in his shows to protect himself as well as show everyone just who is going to save them.

"Agent Carter, if we're not in too much of a hurry I thought we could stop off in Lucerne for a late-night fondue," Howard shouts over the loud noises.

You look at Steve to see what his reaction is to Howard's words. He and Peggy have a thing for each other but you're not going to interfere with their relationship. Steve gets up and puts his parachute on but you remain seated.

"Stark is the best civilian pilot I've ever seen. He's mad enough to brave this airspace. We're lucky to have him."

"So, are you two...? Do you...? Fondue?" Steve asks awkwardly. 

"This is your transponder." Peggy avoids his question and hands over two communicators to you and Steve. "Activate it when you're ready, and the signal will lead us straight to you."

"Are you sure this thing works?"

"It's been tested more than you, ma'am," Howard grins.

Suddenly, the plane is being attacked by bullets from people on the ground. They sensed a foreign aircraft in the air, and with this being a war, they decide to shoot first and ask questions later.

"That's our cue!" you yell.

Steve walks over to the door and opens it, and a rush of wind gets sucked in. You use your aerokinesis to divert the air away from you so you can see what you're doing.

"Get back here! We're taking you all the way in!" Peggy yells.

"As soon as I'm free, you turn this thing around and get the hell outta here!"

"You can't give me orders!"

"The hell I can't! I'm a Captain!" Steve grins and jumps out of the plane.

You're about to follow after him when Peggy stops you.

"Wait, your parachute!"

"I don't need one!" you yell and dive out of the plane.

The wind is nice against your face. Flying is and has always been your favorite thing to do. You can control how fast you go, and you can go as high as the atmosphere will allow you to. Since there is no air in space, you can't fly up there without your space suit on. 

This will never not get old.

You catch up to Steve who looks at you like you're crazy for not having a parachute on. You wave at him and continue flying faster to get to the ground quicker. You get to the ground before Steve does, and you land as gently as a feather. Steve's landing is a bit rockier but he manages not to alert anyone. He clips off his parachute just as you join his side.

"Damn, I can't see a thing. We are close?" Steve whispers.

"Stay here. Let me check."

You transform yourself into a bird and fly high, making sure not to be seen by German soldiers. About three yards from where you were is a road where trucks are being driven into the base. The cars have thick and dark covers on the back of the trucks that could easily hide you and Steve if you were to hijack one. You fly back to Steve and transform back into yourself.

"There's a road with trucks. We can hide in one of them and it'll take us into the base. Come on."

You and Steve run over to the street just as the last truck passed you by. You run towards the back of it and jump inside only to be greeted by two soldiers.

"Fellas," Steve pants.

They go to attack you, but you grab their shoulders and head-butt them as hard as you can. You punch one and fling him out the back of the truck while Steve does the same. No one saw a thing, and you're now inside the facility. The truck backs up to a dock of some sort to get unloaded, but Steve is prepared for this. He hits the soldier who moves the curtain away with his shield, and the soldier goes flying backward.

You two escape the truck and run further into the facility while remaining unseen. There is a bis ass factory where the 107th is being held, no doubt, and in order to get there without being made, Steve jumps on top of the sea containers. You two make your way to one of the back doors and slip inside.

You thought the outside was crawling with soldiers, but the inside has three times as many. There are large machines in lines throughout the factory, so you use those to hide yourselves from Hydra soldiers.

There is a small area where weapons are laid out on top of boxes, but these aren't normal weapons. Each weapon is glowing with blue energy, the same kind the Tesseract emits. You feel a sudden pull to it like you're a moth and they are the flame. Steve grabs a small weapon to see what it is and decides to pocket it.

"What are you doing?" he whispers.

"I'm sorry, but there's something about this light... I can't explain it."

"Come on."

Steve has to physically pull you away to get you to focus, and you two rush into another part of the factory. This part has a bunch of cages with men stuck inside of them. They're from the 107th, and that means Bucky might be here somewhere. A guard is patrolling on top of the cages, and you use your powers without touching him. You heat his body temperature quickly but not enough to kill him. He gets so hot that he passes out right on top of one of the cages, alerting the soldiers in them.

You and Steve run over and grab the keys off the Hydra nut.

"Who are you two supposed to be?" one of them asks.

"I'm... Captain America."

"Lieutenant Y/N."

Steve unlocks all the cages, allowing the soldiers to escape them. You look at every soldier who Steve frees, but Bucky isn't anywhere here. If he's not here, then he has to be somewhere in this factory.

"Is there anybody else? I'm looking for a Sergeant James Barnes," you ask as you make your way through the crowd.

"There's an isolation ward in the factory, but no one's ever come back from it," a soldier informs you.

"Alright," Steve says, capturing the attention of the men. "The tree line is northwest about eighty yards past the gate. Get out fast and give 'em hell. We'll meet you guys in the clearing with anybody else we find."

"Wait! You know what you're doing?"

"Yeah. I've knocked out Adolf Hitler over two hundred times."

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[ragnar0c]

Part 2 of comparing my EO ocs to my Mage Prophecies ocs

Tank and Tankei

The similarities in their names is purely a coincidence. Also Tankei is pronounced T-awn -KAY vs Tank just being said Tank. Plus... is Tank reaally his name? 🤨

Tankei was such a big supporting chara she could be elevated to main status. Subplots in most arcs focused on some aspect of her. And she was the fan fav.

She was an asshole, my favorite asshole whose reckless actions get the main girls in and out of trouble.

She needed to be watched bc when alone she was always misbehaving-- she hates authority, and she REALLY HATES injustice/unfairness.

Tankei melded so well with Mio bc she was the more real version of her. One that knew not everyone could be her friend bc she learned the hard way. And the reason why she is so harsh to Mio is because she never wants ANYONE to be like her. To be taken advantage of.

She has one of the absolute most DRAMATIC backstories ever. And it's one that shapes the plot.

If anyone has a more dramatic back story than Tankei it's probably Tank BAHAHAHA.

He is also a drunk asshole who has the be watched bc he misbehaves (thank you for watching Enid.....). But unlike Tankei. He's super... meticulous about what he does 🤨

His back story also leads a few subplots I have in mind. Actually maybe like 3. He was supposed to just be a side chara but the more I characterized him? He's actually so much more intelligent than Tankei when it comes to people. (I think). And his arc is sweet too. Yeah that guy is an asshole but I personally think he says so to trick people.

If they met: also at a bar. (They both use alcohol to turn off their brains).

They would beat the shit out of someone who was rude at the bar and vaguely remember each other afterwards.

He'd call her "chick" tho. Different than how he calls Alope and Hana kids... he'd definitely view her as more adult than those too bc he knows that she has seen very much.

Tank when Tankei calls him old man (he is tasting his own medicine)

Enid and Kai + Kiemi

Okay so Enid... Enid is one of my only EO ocs that embodies a few ocs rather than just 1. I have like 4 ocs that remind me of him. But narrowed it down to 2... the other 2 are more closely related to other EO ocs anyway.

Anyway Kai is another OC's son. Lady Micah's son!

I don't have comics of them interacting but it's. Oddly in character. Lady is the leader of a like police force, the specialized knights of the nation, the Royal Guardians. Kai is the highest ranking RG member. He is so ridiculously talented, powerful and awesome. But none of this stuff means anything to him bc his self esteem is soooooOoooo LOW.

Yeah. He can control gravity in a certain location. Yes he's a skilled swordsman. But what if hes faking that? ☹ he feels like an impostor...

He has all these achievements, but since he's so... insecure people dont know and view him as some average guy. Most don't even know he's rank 1. Which reinforces his inferiority complex.

Enid... Well when I rewrote chapter 1 I wanted to make it more obvious they were similar.

Like. You see Enid but not really?? Like. WHOA. That's a person. But... then you look at something else. They are the most vibrant in the room but surpress most of their personality. So people just view her as some guy.

Can't get into all Enid's problems bc Enid is a rare character who's backstory isn't super important. Maybe like 2 notes of it are. But other than that, all Enid is in the main story.

If they met: I think Enid would see Kai having a bad time and give him a pep-talk. Only to find out bro is basically capable of killing demigods and get SUPER PISSED OFF.

It's okay Enid. Post game, you can kill demigods too.

The other MP character is Kiemi.

Also one of the Royal Guardians. One who dedicated her whole life to the king. She represses her emotions like Enid too. Acting regal when shes really really upset that she's spent her life this way. Kiemi masks it and usually just tries to make sure no one feels like her. Giving confidence to everyone else and supporting them. (Including Kai)

She reminds me of young Enid. Before Enid became a monk they were unhappy in the same way Kiemi was.

If they met: ENID WOULD NOTICE HOW MESSED UP KIEMI'S QI IS. Kiemi's energy is so out of whack. They are repressing so much more than Enid.

They would talk and be good friends. Also if Enid ever lost confidence Kiemi would gas him up SO HARD.

Also! Kiemi and Kai are the main two who baby sit Tankei. So Enidcore. You know with Joe they babysit Tank. (Though... who is rlly being babysat between those two????)

That's it for this one!

I'll do more charas once I actually introduce them. :3!

[got-into-worm-by-mistake]

Interlude 3.5 Live Reactions

(This is me, writing reactions as I read, because why the fuck not. They're not complete, mature thoughts taken after I sit back and evaluate what I've read. Consider them as such)

In an odd way, Kayden supposed, she took refuge in Aster.  She found succor in the company of her child, in the midst of a world she had little hope for.

One thing I find interesting in the fanfic I've read is that older fic tend to be a great deal more... willing to give Kayden/Purity a chance? Like, they don't generally just give her a pass, and rightly so, but older fic were more willing to sympathize with her situation, or give her chances in canon to move on from being Purity/etc.

More recent fics tend to not give her that - they tend to have her get taken down with the rest of E88, or rejoin the organization (even if not super willingly) or the like, or at least don't give her the chances to improve and change older fics did.

And I can guess a big part of that has been the rise of Alt-right and Neo-Nazi movements in the world in more recent years, as well as a backlash against the earlier trends.

When she saw pudgy fifteen year old Theo sitting in front of the television, she was momentarily disoriented. Then she felt a stab of guilt.  She’d forgotten about the boy, in the midst of caring for Aster and her preparations for the night.

Oof. Poor Theo.

The times when Theo let a glimmer of emotion show were few and far between.  A smile, genuine, touched Theo’s face, and almost broke Kayden’s heart in the process. “I’d love to,” Theo replied, meaning it.

I suspect that despite this interlude introducing Purity, it's actually much more about showing us Theo, in terms of the long-term picture of the story. He ends up being one of the Chicago Wards, right?

 All she could offer were small kindnesses, little gestures of love and affection, and hope they helped. 

And that's the question. Do they help at all?

Kayden didn’t wear a mask, but it wasn’t necessary.  With her powers active, her brown hair and eyes became a radiant white, emanating a light so brilliant it was impossible to look straight at her.  The fabric of her alabaster costume, too, radiated with a soft glow that rippled like light on the surface of the water.

Nifty

A year ago, she had made the ABB a priority target.  Three to five times a week, she had carried out surgical strikes against the low level operations of the gang, interrupting shipments, beating up dealers and thugs, attacking their places of business and all the while, she had been gathering information.  That information had paid off from time to time; she had clashed directly with Lung on no less than four occasions, had encountered Oni Lee on two.  In all but one of those encounters, she had successfully forced them to retreat, to abandon whatever it was they were doing at the time.  Those were the good days.

Again, how many low-level operatives do they have?

Five of her seven vacation days had passed, and she’d accomplished nothing.  Less than nothing.  They were getting stronger.

It does suck, that feeling of putting all that time in, and feeling like you've achieved nothing. But I'd say part of the problem is that she views it as a thing that has an 'end', that she can just eliminate the ABB if she puts enough into it. You need to really be careful about that Mindset.

Even broken arms and legs hadn’t hurt or scared the thugs enough to get them talking about what was going on.

Hey! Something she has in common with Vicky! /s

(genuinely, not actually comparing the two)

Now most of the gang was gone, quite possibly on a big job, and she had no idea where.  She had no idea where to find out.  Kayden grit her teeth.  This wasn’t working.  If she was going to make any headway before her vacation days were up, she had to act now.  Make a deal with the devil.

No, Kayden, please don't.

Twice, she circled around the top floors of the wrong buildings, looking for the logo set on the side of the building would mark Max’s building apart from the others. The black crown against a red and yellow background.  

The Medhall Logo, or does he just spraypaint his own Logo like he's Hydra spamming their symbol everywhere?

He waited, his hands clasped over his stomach, the faintest expression of amusement on his face.  She knew he was capable of opening the window to his office.  He was waiting for her to ask to come inside.  It was the sort of little power game he was so fond of.

That's gotta be exhausting to deal with. That kind of shit alone should have led to a divorce :rofl:

“Kayden.  It’s been a little while,” he managed to greet her and make it sound like a criticism in the same breath.  He half-turned to type on his computer, and the lights in the office adjusted to a halogen glare.  She shut her eyes briefly and basked in the glow, feeling her internal supply of energy recharge.

Kayden, Kayden, Kayden - I want to feel like you deserve a chance. I feel like most people should deserve a chance to become better people in some form, and in this kind of media, that should include being able to turn from being a villain.

But you can't do this if you want that chance.

He was making it clear he was doing her a favor, and he’d expect recompense at some point, tonight or a week from now. 

Yeah, but you don't actually have to agree to owe him that favor.

I do accept that Aster and Theo do make it hard to disentangle from him though.

Though, it would be interesting to imagine a co-parenting supervillain and superhero where both are able to fight eachother as capes and yet still manage their shared kid without breaking the unwritten rules. Not with these two, Kaisar would never do that, but.

 You’d double check with me on anything you did, but other than that, you’d be completely autonomous.

That's like... the opposite of autonomy?

“And you’ll be working against that impression for decades, to no effect, I guarantee you.”

In theory, I think she could do it, if she really did have decades to pull it off. People often have short memories. But she's still going about this the wrong way.

Max smiled, “It’s ugly on the surface, but it’s more money, more power, and it gives me the leverage to really affect things.  The only people I hurt are the same people who cause the problems in the first place.”

Fucker, you run an incredibly wealthy pharma company. Does the chump change E88's drug running give you matter?

(Okay, it's probably not really chump change, but Pharma companies sure make more fucking money than drug dealers)

Kayden frowned, “Hard to avoid, when the only notable gang of whites is yours.  Some old friends and allies of mine still work for you… I can’t go around attacking them, can I?  I’m working to improve our city, but I’m not going to beat up people I’ve been out to drinks with.”

I mean, maybe that's your problem? And this is where it really, really gets hard to want to give her that chance. Like, it would be nice, if she could get her opening to unpack all of her racism and her 'some Nazis are very fine people' mindset, and one would like to believe that given the time, the resources, the support, she could (because I'd like to believe that, in theory, anyone could unlearn that kind of shit) but...

She's not really putting in that effort, is she?

Kayden didn’t have an answer to that.  It was his fault, really.  The high school baseball player she’d had a crush on when she’d been in middle school had wound up being the same person that first approached her when she started going out in costume.  Blinded by his good looks and his way with words, she’d been swayed, convinced of his way of thinking.  She’d tried to change her outlook since the divorce, but she had seen a great deal in her ten years as a member of his team.  It was impossible to look at the city now and ignore the fact that too much of what made it an uglier place to live and raise a child in could be traced back to the same kinds of people.  Sure, the whites had criminals too, but at least they were fucking civilized about it.

I mean, she is a victim of having been radicalized. But she's still not doing enough.

He extended a gauntlet, left it there for her to take.  It was the smallest gesture, he never made a move where someone could refuse him, leave him hanging, and it meant the world to her, even as she suspected it was calculated for just that effect. Forgive me, Aster, she thought.  I’m doing this for you.

And there you go, eroding your chance.

I feel sorry in the abstract for her, but... well, you're a racist bitch, Purity.