#original thoughts on this account *dies of shock*

[anidealistatbestburntoutatworst]

so in my head there’s this soukoku au where chuuya is a sommelier and dazai accompanies him to the different little wine tastings he does as an excuse to spend quality time with him and despite dazai’s preference for other alcoholic beverages someway or another he ends up taste testing with his bf- that interaction would look like this:

chuuya: “so dazai,, what does it taste like?”

dazai *confused*: “wine?!”

chuuya: “… can you be a little more specific?!”

dazai *taking another sip*: “cold wine.”

chuuya *shaking his head and pouring himself more of this “cold wine” to put up with dazai’s silliness*

[yamumsyadadd]

the forgotten girl (5)

posted this originally on my old account. will be posting twice weekly :)

Alexia Putellas Segura. The one that got away? She was my first. First kiss, first person I had sex with, first person I was in love with. Maybe in a different universe things could work out. What’s the saying, right person wrong time? That seemed to be the case with us Every time. I loved her, she wasn’t ready for that. She loved me, I had just gotten together with Emily. 

There was a moment when things would’ve happened, after Emily died and before I went MIA. But after that first night I couldn’t. I didn’t want to hurt her, to break her heart. So I left, breaking her heart anyway. Now she is with Olga and things are going great with them, right? The what ifs always playing on my mind. 

•————————————————————-----------------------———•

I was glad to have Ariel, my social media manager. I didn’t have to deal with the comments or the tweets, I could live in my peaceful bubble and not have to worry about anything. The news of Sam Kerr tearing her ACL ripped through the football community, the Matilda’s were out a striker. There were two possibilities, Michelle Heyman who is retired or me. The girl who hasn’t played an international game since the 2019 World Cup, the same person who left the team high and dry for the 2020 Olympics. 

The tillies were coming off a successful World Cup, secretly I’d watched every game, cheering them on from the safety of my own living room. When Jona had informed me that Tony had rang and asked for my number I was shocked, surely he’d call up Michelle before he rang me. She deserved it, I’m sure there were lots of younger players that deserved it too. But alas, it was me he rang. Just as training ended and we’d made our way back to the locker rooms. 

“Hello?” Confused by the unknown caller, forgetting the conversation with Jona. 

“Amelia? It’s Tony Gustavsson.” 

“Oh shit. Yeah hi Tony. How are you?” 

“I’m good Amelia, listen, I know you’ve heard the news about Sam, we are in an Olympic year and now without a striker. I know you’re just coming back and you haven’t played an international game in a few years, but if you’re willing I would love for you to join us this international break.” 

“What? What about Michelle or one of the younger girls? I’m sure there’s someone more suited to this.” 

“There is no one else I would rather. You’re the person we need. The missing piece to this team. The girls look up to you, they listen to you. We need you, I need you. Take some time and think about it, we have a few days before the foster needs to be released. Call me in two days ok?” 

“Yeah yeah okay. I can do that. Thanks Tony.” 

Disbelief. Was I excited for this opportunity? Sure. Did i deserve it? Probably not. 

“Who was that?” Keira’s voice broke me from my thoughts. 

“Uh it was tony. The Matilda’s head coach. He wants me?” 

“Holy shit that’s amazing! Milly that’s so good! Congratulations!” The high fives poured in from everyone, expect one person, Alexia. 

If it was so good, why didn’t it feel it? The first thing I did when I got back to the apartment was make a pros and cons list. 

Pros:

It’s the olympics 

Cons:

It’s the Olympics 

Media

The team? 

Football 

I was stuck in my own head until a knock rippled through the apartment. Apprehensively I opened the door to Alexia standing there. She walked straight on through as if she’d been here before.  

“What are you doing here? How’d you get my address?” 

“Hi to you too. I’m good thanks how are you? 

“Yeah yeah answer my questions?”

“I heard the phone call in the locker room and how you looked stressed. So I thought I’d come and be a good friend.” 

“And you got my address from?” 

“Jona. You should add that you can see me and Jenni.”

“Huh?”

“Your list” she points. “We will probably be there.” 

Silence. Unsure what to even say in this situation. Alexia was still standing, looking around. There wasn’t much to look at. I had bought a couple of plants but other than that, it was just furniture. 

“Have you lived here long?” 

“3 and a half years. Why?”

“Oh. It’s… empty?” 

“It’s easier this way.” 

“So when you want to run away again, there’s nothing you need to take? Clothes and furniture can be replaced right.” 

“That’s not fair Alexia.” 

“No what’s not fair is you leaving in the middle of the night! You disappeared Amelia!“

“Seriously? We are doing this now? Fine. Yes I did leave, yes I disappeared, yes I fucked you and told you everything you wanted to hear. But I couldn’t stay. Not after everything. You deserved better Alexia.” 

“I didn’t want anyone else but you! I loved you and you just left.” 

“You should go.”

“Mil”

“No. Go home to your girlfriend Alexia.” 

After she left I got up to write another con on this list:

Potentially seeing Alexia 

Maybe in another life time things would be different. 

The next week is rough. The tension between Alexia and I is very clear to the team, not to Olga though. She reached out inviting me to dinner with her and some girls from Manuelas. It was a nice night overall, it definitely felt weird being friendly with Olga. It was hard to separate the Olga from Manuelas and Alexia’s girlfriend Olga. 

the morning of my first game arrived, I had barely slept because of the nerves. I wasn’t starting, however Jona said he’d bring me on in the second half. The thought of playing again was extremely overwhelming. My body went into autopilot, doing my old day time routine: making breakfast and coffee, brushing my teeth, changing my sheets, laying out my clothes and then going for a swim. 

The ocean was calming and refreshing. It reminded me of home. The one place I could go and enjoy myself when I was living in foster homes. I taught myself to surf after watching some people do it, it took a lot of trial and error but in the end I was successful. As I came out of the water, I noticed a familiar pale, ginger sitting on my towel. 

“It’s nice. You should go in.”

“Don’t be stupid Milly. I would never get in there in the winter.”

Keira was a constant. No matter what happened or what teams we played for, she was always there. She’d drop everything to come help and wasn’t afraid to tell me I was being a dickhead. I wasn’t expecting what she was going to say. 

“You being here is hard for her. Being so close and her not being able to be with you. It’s a lot, I know you did what you thought was best but you broke her heart and she’s been different since.” 

Alexia. It always comes back to her. 

“I couldn’t let her love me Kei. It was too much.” 

“But she loved you anyway. Pretty sure she always has and always will. She was mad for the first few weeks, then really worried, then sad. Every Sunday she would message Leah and ask if she’s heard from you, and every Sunday it was the same answer.” 

“We should go. Got a game and all.” 

[resident-idiot-simp]

Haya everyone Resi here

Disclaimer for my account

You can find me here on TikTok, Instagram, Twitter , and Ao3.

My pronouns are She/Her (above 18) and I am somehow not any form of fruity ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯ (well I might be a bit Aro/Ace but I don't really care)

I apologize beforehand because I cannot type dysgraphia is a bitch (I also use voice to type I am not sorry) and I'm also your local Southerner and Christian (tasteful kind) here in the U.S. of A.

I am riddled with the ADHD and I am here to commit arson and have fun.

I love answering asks and questions (especially about my fics) so please shoot me any you have 🩷🩷🩷

Tags on my blog:

#Resi Responds #Resi's breakdowns

#Resi's shorts #Resi's Life

#wendi!verse #Deer!Ghost

#walks up to mic #09 angst

#Deadclaw's Adoption Agency

#Pokémon au

Most current hyper fixation:

🧼Mw💀 & ❤️Dp&W💛

My fics :

DP&W

(how I picture the characters)

Deadclaw’s Adoption Agency- Wade and Logan end up adopting an army of misfits and create a home for those without one.

Meeting the Uncle- What happens when Laura runs into Sabretooth in the void?

What Comes Around Goes Around- The X-Men don't know how to feel about this new logan and have some horrible realizations about their own

Bloodline Spite- Laura doesn't like the X-men because of how they treated Logan

The Spider and The Mini Wolverine- Peter befriends Laura and the Avengers are in for a shock

Past Ghosts- Steve meets a man he thought long dead

What is the Deal With Thoes Two?- Students POV on Deadpool and Wolverine

Aftermath and Consequences- The Consequences of the Odyssey Monologue

When We Were Younger- What if Logan and Wade were both students at Xavier's at the same time

An Old Friend With New Stories- Steve and Bucky run across Logan

Running Across The Mini Wolverine- Three quick one-shots of people running across Laura Kinney and what I think would happen.

COD

(Not a fic but the Captain MacTavish essay also characterization)

The Family Reunion- What if Soap's cousin saw him again after years of no contact?

An Outsiders Thoughts- What do others see when observing Soap and Ghost

The Uncle- What if Joseph didn't die and Ghost gets to be an uncle

Comfort- Soap gets overstimulated and Ghost helps comfort him

The Loaned Sergeant- Since Soap is so used to Ghost as his LT how would he work with another Lieutenant?

The Old Team- What happens when Soap meets his old team?

Soap and MacTavish- What if Soap meets Captain MacTavish?

Time Kept Ticking- Soap's Family thinks he's dead, but he comes knocking on their door how will they react?

Your a CAPTAIN?!- What if the original 141 were canon in the same universe as their reboot counterparts and Soap with Ghost were using the task force as a cover for their own team?

Don't Dish Out What You Can't Take- Soap and Ghost have a badass kid

Hunger- Ghost is a wendigo because it fits so well!!

The BAU Meet SoapGhost- The BAU deal with John 'Soap' MacTavish and Simon 'Ghost' Riley

The Prince & his Knight- Soap is a prince Ghost is a knight what will happen when Soap I told to court someone?

I haven't Talked to You Since last Year- Simon keeps making jokes and Soap is NOT having it

The Mistake- What if after Roba Tommy kicks Simon out?

Favored by the Crows- Ghost gains an army of crows

Task Force Try Playing Games With Civilians- The 141 play laser tag and paintball with some civilians

What People Around and On Base See- MORE POVS ON YOUR FAVORITE IDIOTS

Alone Time Interrupted by Your Team- Captain MacTavish is rudely interrupted by his team during his not so alone alone time

Cowboy Dan- Cowboy Dan is so Ghost-coded I needed to write a fic so decided to make it sad and about Soap becoming Ghost after Ghost died.

A Little Help- Ghost helps preen Soap's wings

A Little Pick-Me-Up With Company- Soap offers fresh blood to Ghost so they can escape a sticky situation while Price is an unwitting watcher

Jailbirds- Soap and Ghost get arrested on a mission gone wrong

A Preventable Fate- 09 Angst regarding Price not being a good person

What is With Those Two?- Model Ghost and Football player Soap are following each other on social media and the fans just realized

Feeding Your God- 09 Ghost as a lore accurate wendigo (Azilver wrote a story based off of this go read it! Also it has fanart that also works for my fic)

Accidental Mate Acquisition- Seal Mer Soap sees Ghost as his mate what will they do?

The Captain Blowing Off Steam- The Captain has his way with Riley who is just happy to be there

Mama Bear- Mama bear Beth

What do you need?- The Captain has visitors while having his way with Riley

Matching Smiles- Soap has a Glasgow smile

How Did This Snowball so Bad?! - Soap and Ghost experience their first heat/rut together

Relief- Soap with swollen balls needing relief and Ghost offering to help.

Wisper From the Woods - Wendigo Roach activities including but not limited to eating Graves

Mending of Broken Souls - Past meet their future selves (part of this event I hosted)

Love Bites- Vampire Riley getting less traumatized with some TLC from his Captain

Team Bonding- Team bonding over how the 141 imagine Captain MacTavish is like in bed and how badly everyone wants him.

MacTavish and Riley Take on the Apocalypse- Wendi!Verse meets TWD and interacts with the termites (also another small snippet for nine lives)

Feed Your Local Vampire they get Hangry- Vampire MacTavish and willing blood bag Riley

FNAF

Empire of dirt- Ever wanted to know what others in Hurricane thought of the Aftons well wonder no longer!

The Ghost & The Bear- Freddy's POV on a ghost Michael

Final Encore- What would happen if Michael met the crew in Security Breach

[lizzaneia-elizalde]

Request: Inigo Dragonov scenario where we (his darling) didn’t cave into remarrying him. (I guess this is like an alternative timeline from the original storyline). He was thinking about bankrupting our family, so aside from that, what if we also didn’t want to remarry him because we found a new lover (that even his private investigators didn’t know about). And to make it even more soap opera drama like, our new man is Inigo’s old university rival (who’s still also his company’s rival). I’m sorry…I just love these tropes/cliches. What makes it even ❤️provokingly❤️ worse is if his rival were just to see Inigo across the street one day on an outing with us and our twin babies…and just kiss the babes while pulling us into an embrace…all while keeping a long deadlock stare with Inigo. Like DUSKGSJOSLHWJJJWJ!!!!!!!!! Unleash Inigo’s full yandere potential after being forced to witness this!

Yandere! CEO! Arranged! Ex-husband x AFAB! Ex-wife! Reader

WHAT IF: You refused to marry him?

Ooh anon, you're the worst (lovingly). You really want Iñigo to suffer huh?

Once more, I'm delving into Iñigo's lore because fun fact, Rowan may be my first yandere OC, but Iñigo had a whole novel just exploring him and his actual partner, Ykaidi! (I unpublished it on Wattpad though, it's so cringe lol. Also, there's so much stuff I changed so technically, the original timeline IS an au in itself) So this will be a good creative exercise to explore his personality more.

He's one traumatized bitch.

No?

Did you really say no?

Iñigo scoffed before tilting his head to the side, a bit bewildered.

"This..."

Words died down in his throat as he saw your resolute face.

"A-are you sure you don't want to marry me? I told you that the children needs a father figure in their life."

He somehow got a bad feeling about this. And that proved right as you gave him a soft smirk.

"They do, actually. It's not you though."

Iñigo felt his blood run cold.

His ears started to ring from the shock he received.

"You..." You have another man? That was not... Him?

How could that possibly be?! He always made sure that his private investigators would know each and every single one of the people that you spoke to back in New Zealand.

He should rethink his choices right now.

"But, Elise and Elliot needs their biological father. I am their bio father!" Iñigo yelled, his jaw ticking. But you only rolled your eyes.

"Did you think I would take into account on going back to you?!" You screamed, marching up to him and pushing him back. Your heart squeezed in pain as it pumped to accomodate the anger rising inside of you. "You neglected me. Insulted me in ways I don't even hear from my parents!"

You stomped one step, as if crushing his heart in pieces.

"Why would I come back to you?" Your voice, crackled with the pent up anger, gave a raw, intense tone of rage that echoed your beating heart. "You must think I'm stupid if I'll run to you."

Iñigo's vision swam, breathing heavily as he felt small, pressured....

Intimidated.

He never took account of you moving on and hating him to the point of getting another man. But you did. You did what he thought was impossible.

"Sweetheart... Please..." His tone was getting desperate, clawing at the seams to make sure he won't burst from the emotions he's feeling.

Iñigo is an emotional man. Yes, he may seem cold hearted and reserved, but when it comes to you, it's different.

His hand trembled, wanting to grab your hand to rest upon his cheeks and place a shackle on it.

"I'm going." You whispered before walking out of him.

~~~Two weeks later~~~

It's been hell in Iñigo's company. He's working his employees like dogs to create the best fashion company out there.

Whatever that means.

But all he knows he needs to outrank the Smith's when it comes to the Fashion influence across the world.

He needs to outrank you.

He needs to be more popular.

More rich.

More influential.

He drank another coffee, letting the coffee dribble down his chin and onto the hardwood table.

"Indigo, I think you need to take a break." Oliver said, using the nickname he's been using since he was a child. Iñigo looked up and saw Oliver holding up a mirror, reflecting how bad Iñigo looked.

"Wow, way too drive the nail further. Fuckhead." Iñigo glared at Oliver before shaking his head and standing up. "Alright. I'll go for a walk, Livi."

Iñigo went to the bathroom, fixing his appearance, shaving a bit, and adding light makeup to his face, just to hide the circles on his eyes.

Damn, he even knew how to apply makeup just to impress you, the fashion icon you are.

His tongue stung, remembering when he called you frumpy.

He got down through the elevators and walked towards the park. His steps heavy and straightforward. He ignored the stares he got, some shocked, some flirty, but he didn't mind them.

Because once he looked up to cross the street, his eyes widened seeing you and...

"Steven..?"

Steven. He knows him so well.

He's an academic rival back then in highschool and college, and now a business rival too.

He also can't believe he's now a love rival also?

Iñigo always remained victorious between them, with Steven simmering in second place.

But Steven only laughs, rolls his eyes and moves on.

He hated that part of him.

But now, it seems that Steven is leading in one aspect.

And it's you.

Steven looked around, sightseeing before landing on Iñigo.

Both froze, unsure of what to do.

But this time, Steven smirked and pulled you close, kissing your temple lovingly then scooping Elise and Elliot into his arms, laughing as they giggled in Glee.

People awed at the sight, seeing this "father" play with his children and being openly affectionate with his "wife."

The perfect family.

Iñigo feels like he's looking into the spotlight, looking into a pedestal that looked too far from his reach.

He wanted to break the hands that affectionately caressed your hips, to tear the lips that kissed your temple, to break the ankles that dared walk up to you.

He felt something crack inside him.

Sure, he won't use violence.

On you.

But, the prospect of Steven dying in his arms, torturing him for hours sounds delightful.

He finally snapped.

He's not afraid of blood, nor guts nor any of that gorey stuff.

He got his yandere side from his biological father after all, not Allastor. It was never Allastor, after all, he's a really sweet man.

He could never spawn a devil in hiding.

And, as Iñigo walk away to buy the necessary items to torture Steven, he smirked.

"Business be damned. I'm taking what's mine."

[sephirothsplaything]

DNA| Sec.80 high power-chapter 18

A/N: Rhaenys is rolling in her grave(ashes) this is easily my fav chapter, and I think it shows!! Aemond and Rhaella matching each others freak>>>

TW: Slight violence, sexual happenings(nothing too explicit), Rhaella is a top by nature, drugging??? yah rhaella is a freakazoid as usual!!

This is horribly unedited sorry im tired LONG ASS CHAPTER GET COMFY

This is the story of Lady Rhaella Targaryen the I;the strange one and her role in the Dance Of Dragons. Loved by few and feared by many.

The blood of the dragon runs in Targaryen's veins. Something else runs in Rhaella.

BLACK TARGARYEN OC/READER

PARINGS: Aemond,Cregan, slight Jace, slight Addam, original charecter

read the last chapter here!

𝐑𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀 𝐖𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐃𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄.

Astris had led her to the doors of the brothel, assuring that she would stand guard from the outside. She had not yet entered, however the smells of perfume had already reached her nose.

Admittedly, Rhaella had not planned this far. What would she even ask when she finally laid eyes on the woman?

Briefly, she felt for her dagger, still in its place. It would be hard to kill in a small space such as this, but not impossible.

Upon entering, the sounds of laughter and moans filled her ears. It was an unsightly scene, causing her face to heat up.

Averting her eyes to the floor,she made her way to the front counter. Although her hair was covered,Rhaella highly doubted anyone here would know her from eyes alone.

"Are you lost,girl?" A woman said to her. Rhaella looked at her for a moment before averting her eyes to one of the dancers. A silver golden -haired girl holding fabric fans over her naked body.

A pretty girl by all accounts,Rhaella found it particularly hard to look away.

"I'd like to see Madame Sylvie," Rhaella said, placing some coins on the table.

The woman looked at her, as if assessing her looks.

"If it is work you are looking for,you could stand to do better." The woman said,taking a hand to Rhaella's face,causing her to lean back for fear of her hair being discovered.

"It's not for work." Rhaella stated bluntly. The woman raised a brow,taking her hand away.

"So you are one of those?" She said,gesturing for Rhaella to follow. "Coin is coin I suppose."

Rhaella followed the woman through the sea of naked people doing less than savory things. It was not as if she was a maiden,but her experience paled in comparison to the things her eyes laid upon.

"Sylvie?" The woman pulled the curtain back,"There's a client for you."

Rhaella was left alone, staring at this woman--Sylvie. She was certainly older,much more than Aemond,but not ugly. Her maturity was brought out in a bawdy figure with long brown hair.

Disappointment panged inside of Rhaella--She had hoped the woman was ugly.

"I must admit." Sylvie began,a curious smile on her face. "I never bedded a girl before."

Rhaella did not respond, opting to remain stiff in place. Any sentence she thought about voicing died in her throat. 

"Well don't be shy, come." Sylvie patted the spot next to her on the bed.

A bed Aemond had likely laid in many a time. Jealousy found itself in her again.

"You'd enjoy it more, I think." Rhaella finally spoke, sitting on the bed with a notable distance.

"Girls are much softer," Rhaella continued. She removed her cloak completely,revealing her long silver braids.

"I fear that is not me, however." She pulled her dagger out, pointing it at Sylvie.

Rhaella greatly relished the look of fear on the woman's face. Many an idea ran through the girl's head,but she chose restraint instead.

"You scream and I shall cut your throat," Rhaella said.

Sylvie’s mouth closed,still in shock. Her silence was welcome to Rhaella–She needed to clear her mind.

“I am told the prince visits you often.” Rhaella said again,absentmindedly twirling her dagger–As he would.

“You think I am privy to his doings?” Sylvie said,keeping her eye on the knife.

Rhaella stared at her blankly. Somehow,she couldnt be so sure as to why–She knew he likely told her something that could prove to be useful.

“I know you are.” Rhaella decided. “So you shall tell me everything.”

“Did Queen Rhaenyra send you?” Sylvie questioned. Rhaella felt her patience dwindle by the second.

“I am here out of my own volition.” 

“Ah.” Sylvie said. “So it is personal.”

Rhaella’s eye twitched. She was not being taken seriously.

Lunging forward,Rhaella pinned Sylvie’s body harshly onto the bed.She brought the dagger to her neck,holding it there.

“I am Rhaella of House Targaryen,daughter of Prince Daemon Targaryen.” Her tone was riddled with vexation although it hardly raised above a calm whisper.  “And I find myself with little patience for a wench's games.

Sylvie’s breath quickened as her eyes widened,gazing into Rhaella’s darkened purple ones.

‘This girl is a monster’ She thought,knowing better than to voice it.

“So you are.” Sylvie’s voice stuttered out. “Apologies,my lady.”

Rhaella allowed her to sit up,still gripping her dagger harshly.

“What does he tell you?” Rhaella asked again. Sylvie’s eyes briefly darted to the closed curtain,but dared not to move.

“He laments,mostly.” Sylvie recounts,after a while. 

“What of?” Rhaella asks,though she nearly regrets it.

“His brushes with death,how your father tried to have him killed.”

Rhaella knew this much,she was there when Rhaenyra asked for it to be done.

“And?” Annoyance tinged in Rhaella’s voice.

“He thinks your father fears him.” Sylvie said.

Rhaella scoffed,nearly laughing. What a pathetic display.

“Aemond is a child,it is Vhagar that’s feared.” She responded.

“And yet,you've come to me for information against him.” Sylvie retorted.

It was a truth Rhaella was forced to swallow. In all actuality,this woman was simply paid for her service.

However,Rhaella did not care.

“I had hoped for something of sustenance,not the whimpers of a boy.” Rhaella spit out.

Her time was being wasted,time that could've been spent sneaking into the red keep.

“He mentioned that he burnt his brother during the battle.” Sylvie said suddenly.

Rhaella blinked. Sure Aemond seemed particularly insatiable for power,not shirking to terrify the realm. But he was loyal–Whatever twisted loyalty he had.

But to hurt Aegon? Is that not the very person who he was fighting for? 

“That is..” Rhaella trailed off. “That is a lie.”

“You wield a dagger to my throat.” Sylvie stated. “It is he who said it,I do not lie.”

Rhaella stood abruptly,pacing around the room. She did not know Aemond as well as she initially thought. 

If he was willing to kill his own brother just for a chance to sit the throne…

What could he do to her?

Strategies came to and from Rhaella’s mind. But one in particular shined.

Aemond would never expect it,certainly not from her.

“Thank you for your time.” Rhaella said briskly,turning to leave.

“He talked about you,briefly.” Sylvie called out,forcing Rhaella to pause.

“What?” Aemond spoke of her to this whore? Perhaps to make fun of her,to talk about her lack of experience and how quick she was to sully herself.

“From when the two of you were children,I think.” Sylvie mused,recalling the memory wistfully.

Rhaella did not move,for it would be to kill this wretched woman.

“How he described you,a quiet little thing that always knew what to say”

When Sylvie was sure Rhaella wouldn’t move,she continued.

“He cares for you a lot,if it's any consultation.” Sylvie finished.

But no,it was not a consultation. In fact,it was the very last thing she wanted to hear. How could he break her resolve so easily? Aemond wasn't even present and she felt her heart grow heavy.

She wished to rip it from her chest.He had killed her grandmother with no care,chased her sister through the skies and actively blocked the queen from her throne.

Wasn’t it enough? For her to hate him?

Aemond debilitated Rhaella in ways she could not comprehend.

Rhaella said nothing else,walking out. She ignored the girls and the front woman.

She ignored Astris who was still there waiting for her.

“My lady?” She called out,hurrying to keep to Rhaella’s side. “Did you find what you were looking for?”

Rhaella shook her head. 

Astris was mildly concerned at her state. Whatever Sylvie told her had caused some obvious strife. Perhaps she described in detail what Aemond gets up to with her.

“Would you like me to kill her?” Astris suggested. Not as if she had any love for the woman.

“Which tunnel in Maegor’s holdfast leads to his chamber.” Rhaella said,voice distant. She couldn't bear to speak his name at the moment.

“The left but-.” Rhaella had already begun walking in the castle's direction.

“It is dangerous,he may hurt you!”

“Perhaps.” Rhaella said. 

Maybe Aemond would have her hung in the outer courts,daring anyone to try him again. 

But she needed to know the state of his mind. They had left with many things untalked of.

If she could just witness it,perhaps it would give her push to move on and fight this war earnestly.

Rhaella stood just outside of the tunnel,staring into the stark darkness. Somehow,the possibility of her death did little to deter her from what she planned to do.

“How much of that concoction does he need to ingest?” Rhaella asked. Astris’s mouth pressed into a thin line of worry,yet she answered anyway.

“For him to sleep through the night,only half.” Astris said. Rhaella hummed.

She would ensure Aemond missed the riots all together. The matter of how remained in the air however.

“My lady..” Astris knew she could do little to change Rhaella’s mind. 

“If I do not return to our original meeting point,do not linger here.” Rhaella breathed out calmly “Return to Dragonstone at once.”

She did not wait for Astris to respond as she entered Maegor’s tunnels. Rhaella vaguely remembered her way around,from before. The silence was deafening but serene,Rhaella at this moment had no fear.

When she thought she’d arrived at the right spot,Rhaella carefully drew her dagger walking up the staircase. If Aemond was in his chamber,he would not see her immediately. Rhaella figured she was quicker than him,should she need to escape.

Pushing through the hidden door,Rhaella found herself inside Aemonds room–And he was nowhere to be found.

She knew it was incredibly stupid,to linger around like this,but she couldn't help it. His chamber was obnoxiously large,as was his bed. Rhaella walked near the sitting area in the middle of the room. Maps and plans were splayed out on the table,as well as coins.

Crouching down,her hands traced over them. It looked like he was planning something,although she couldn't quite make out what.

Near them,stood a pitcher and some wine cups,one being slightly filled. A smile litted onto Rhaella’s face. Taking the vile,she poured the liquid fully into the pitcher,shaking it around for good measure.

When she was satisfied,Rhaella stood to her feet. Aemond would drink from the pitcher,hopefully this night–Allowing the queen rhaenya’s plan to go smoothly.

The sound of footsteps caused Rhaella to jump,reaching for her dagger. While Rhaella was already in a rather daring position,she was no fool.

Quickly and silently,Rhaella hid behind one of the large dressers near the wall. She saw a flash of white hair and it took everything in her power to not flee at once.

She heard Aemond sigh,taking off his gloves and placing his sword onto the table. Her eyes narrowed,trying to see as best she could.

Was that Blackfyre? He was shameless.

Rhaella’s legs began to cramp from her position,she needed to move. Aemond turned away,beginning to unbutton his coat.

Rhaella stood again,carefully removing herself from the hiding spot. There was no conceivable way she could leave without him spotting her so…

“Do not move.” Rhaella spoke first,lifting her knife into the air. Aemond froze at the sound of her voice. Surely he had gone mad,what was she doing in here?

But when he turned to face her,it was undeniable. Rhaella’s eyes were slightly darker from when he had last seen them. It was still her,coming back to him despite everything.

“Mittys iksā.” Aemond said before he could stop himself. ‘You’re an idiot’

Rhaella’s gaze bore into his own,hauntingly. “And you are unprotected.”

They watched each other carefully,not daring to move any closer. Aemond was sure he could overpower her quite easily–And yet he found himself unwilling to take the chance.

Aemond glanced at his sword,then back to Rhaella. “How did you get past the kingsguard?”

Taking a small step forwards,Rhaella raised her dagger higher,scoffing.

“Your kingsguard are shit,but I'm sure you know that.”

Aemond’s lips formed into a small smile. The rage in Rhaella’s eyes did little to deter him;Oh how he missed those violet gems,harsh like any fine stone. He took a step to her,noticing how she made no move.

“I’ve missed you.” Aemond said. He ate away at how her body shivered in response to his words,like basic instinct. 

“Have you?” Rhaella spoke flatly,careful to hide the whirlwind of emotions that stirred inside. How dare he stand there,words like honey on his lips—And she longed for the words anyhow.

Aemond blinked with an unabashed softness,taking in her form. 

“Or rather,you've been busy making a name for yourself.” Rhaella spit out venomously. 

“I’ve only done what is necessary for the preservation of my house.” Aemond responded,although his voice wavered slightly. It had not been so long,and here she was doing it again,reading into him in a way only she could.

“Necessary?” Rhaella hissed. “Is that what you call slaughtering my grandmother?”

“She was a traitor to the realm,I acted accordingly.” Aemond replied coolly.

Rhaella’s grip tightened inhumanly. If she was swift enough,his throat could be slashed in an instant. But she found herself unable to move.

“And Aegon?” Rhaella said. “Was he another piece to rid yourself of?”

Aemond’s head snapped to her,glaring. “What do you speak of?”

He had forgotten the fact–Rhaella always seemed to know everything,how it had been.

“Should I say congratulations,Kinslayer?” Rhaella piled on,making no attempt to hide her fury.

“Oh,my apologies,I meant Prince Regent.”

Aemond’s temper instantly flared. She knew nothing of the turmoil he had gone through to get here. Standing alone against the enemy,securing allies for his house. Rhaella could not know the countless nights of sleep lost to her,thinking about having her by his side.

She was equal parts calming him and fanning the flames of his troubles.

“Is that what you’ve come here to do?” Aemond watched her carefully,almost enamored. “To kill me and take revenge?”

Rhaella did not grace him with an answer–The truth of the matter,in all the many lifetimes that could be,she could never raise her hand against him,obsession kept her chained to the pits of their shared misery.

When met with silence,Aemond’s smirk deepened.

“You’ve aided in usurping my stepmother’s throne,an act deserving of death.” Rhaella stated,hoping her voice did little to give away her invisible resolve.

Aemond scoffed in near disbelief. “Do not do that.” He said. “Not with me.”

Rhaella’s brain buzzed with hesitation. At the slight misstep,Aemond lunged at her briskly. 

She struggled against his burdening hold,although she did not scream. Rhaella thrashed wildly to no avail–Aemond was stronger. For a moment,Rhaella felt a single cold drop of fear in her heart. Would he send for a guard and kill her?

Aemond harshly shoved her chest to the wall,wrapping her hands with an uncomfortable grip.The flesh of his hands practically burnt her,it was only then Rhaella was able to form a single clear thought.

She did not come here for revenge,rather to seek out the horribly tainted love only Aemond could give her.

Only him. No one else. 

When Rhaella allowed her knife to fall,Aemond knew he’d won. He leaned further into her with little care for how she felt.

“I don’t care about Rhaenyra or her fucking bastards climbing for something they think is theirs.” Aemond spoke lowly into Rhaella’s ear as she continued to squirm.

“And.” Aemond adds,his soft breath gently blowing the loose strands of her hair.

“I truly think that you do not care either.”

Rhaella’s foot moved to kick Aemond harshly in his knee,causing his grip to loosen just enough for her to get away,but not too far.

When Aemond recovered,he was met with a fiery slap delivered by Rhaella’s hand.

“Do not presume to grab me in such a manner.” Rhaella said. Her chest heaved slightly and the slow trickles of desire invaded her blood.

Aemond felt it too,the smug smile never left his face. 

“Am I wrong?”

Rhaella glances to the pitcher with the wine she would soon make him ingest. He wouldn’t forgive her for it and the thought made her body heat further.

“I hate you.” Rhaella said,with little bite in her tone. They were back to their familiar games,the struggle for dominance. Unbeknownst to Aemond,he had already since lost the fight. 

“Then why are you shaking so harshly?”

What girl wouldn’t shake in the presence of her own monster? Her own lover.

But then,she was perhaps much worse.

So,Rhaella kissed Aemond with a fervor that caused him to stumble back slightly. She would never allow herself to be completely finished with him. 

In this war,they would be each other’s executioner– Rhaella could not possibly think of anything else more enthralling.

Aemond moved his hands to her waist instinctively, unable to help himself.

Through their shared bated breaths into each other,he spoke again.

“I could have you killed.” He said,hands tracing the curves of her waist.

Rhaella hummed into another kiss,her darkened eyes flitting to his predatorily.

“I do believe it would be in your best interest to do so.” She responded.

Aemond couldn't think about that now,only focused on how Rhaella’s lips gently met his.

Rhaella seemed more sure of herself this time around–Like she had gained a new surge of confidence. He could little but allow her to tug and shove him to his bed,pushing him into it roughly.

Somehow,he preferred this,being at her mercy.

Rhaella’s brows furrowed as she tilted her head slightly–Like any dragon would.

“You have damned me,I think.” Rhaella said,though she did not care to elaborate further.

“As have you.” Aemond replied without thinking. Rhaella sat herself on top of him,eyes searching his clothed body. Time was little and less for the two dragons who wished only to dance. Perhaps it was by the Gods design,for them to greet each other with the briefest of goodbyes.

Rhaella’s hands traced the fabric of his tunic,glancing back to his face and he felt compelled to continue.

“You have all of me.” Aemond whispered,so softly Rhaella almost did not hear.

“I know.” Rhaella whispered back. It was not a response,rather a confession. Aemond too had all of her,and it was as unfortunate of a truth as any. She would betray him anyhow.

For the kinslayer knew his strange one by heart,and it infuriated her greatly. 

Aemond sat up slightly to kiss her again,unable to be away for too long. Somewhere in between the exchange,he had shed Rhaella of the dress she wore,leaving her in naught but a flimsy chemise that slid down from her shoulders.

His hands slid under the thing,causing Rhaella to gasp softly as his delicate fingers imprinted over her bare thigh. Aemond had yet to hear a sound much sweeter.

This night at least,Aemond intended to draw out a symphony from her.

The cacophony of pants and faint moans echoed through the chamber. For the first time in what seemed like forever,Rhaella’s mind was void of any real thoughts.

Aemond attempted to calm his harsh breaths as he laid his head onto Rhaella’s naked chest. She had not spoken much during the fact,however her one question pierced his mind achingly.

“Do you take me as I am?”  He recalled how small her voice was,as if she was worried for what he may reply with.

“I can do nothing else.” Assurance wafted to her ears as she felt all of him,like he had sworn to her.

So,they laid there,hand in unlovable hand, Aemond’s fingertips marked her palms,tracing over the healing scar.

“Who did that to you?” Aemond’s eye looked up to her briefly. Rhaella had been staring across the room for a while now but was brought back by the sound of his voice.

The cut she sustained from her knife to blood the cannibal had closed up mostly,leaving a small,rough mark.

He need not know that.

“It was my own doing.” Rhaella said,attempting to tug her hand away. He would not let her.

“Why would you do such a thing?” Aemond asked with a gentleness unlike himself.

Rhaella shifted slightly underneath the blankets. She was much too hazy to think of a sufficient lie,so she told the truth.

“It was an exchange of sorts,I suppose.” Rhaella said. Her hand played at the white strands of Aemond’s hair with the tenderness of one who had never loved.

If he wished to pry further,Rhaella did not allow him the chance.

“Tell me something,and do be truthful.” Rhaella spoke.

Aemond’s arms held her into his body tighter with a hum,as if it could prevent her from leaving him.

“What did you feel when you watched my grandmother fall from the sky?”

Aemond paused,wondering if this was some sort of trap. Rhaella’s head leaned onto his own,waiting for what he would say.

“Satisfaction in being victorious.” He said finally. Aemond looked to her again, however Rhaella’s lips were made into the smallest of smiles. Despite them both being in such a vulnerable state,it was unnerving.

“And what about overturning Rook's Rest?” Rhaella pressed her naked form,causing a second wave of desire to course through Aemond’s veins.

“The first of many battles I intended to win.” Aemond said. 

Rhaella leaned down to kiss him again,letting it linger for a beat of time. He had not the faintest of clues–The acts of revenge she intended to release. For as much love she held for Aemond Targaryen,Rhaella’s spite and lust of blood held her much tighter.

He was about to lose,if he hadn’t begun already. Whatever was wrong with Aemond,was also terribly wrong with Rhaella.

Wiggling herself from his grip,Aemond made a disapproving noise as Rhaella stood from the bed. 

He watched as she went over to the table,pouring the sitting wine into a single cup.

“After all this,will you still return to Dragonstone?” Aemond asked,already knowing the answer.

“I cannot leave my sister alone,you know this.” Rhaella replied. Aemond sighed,sitting up in his bed.

“You could have married me,stayed with me.” Aemond said. “You would never meet harm.”

Rhaella looked into the cup,weighing her options. Seeing little way out,she drank enough of the liquid to satisfy.

“That is an impossible thing to promise,Aemond.” Rhaella handed the cup to him,watching the wine go down his throat.

“And I promise it to you anyway.” Aemond said. Rhaella took back the cup,looking into it. He had drunk more than enough,so Rhaella finished the rest of it.

“You and I both know that this” Rhaella gestured between the two of them. “It will only end in bloodshed.”

Aemond leaned against the bedframe,studying her carefully. Rhaella’s braids were messy as were the loose curls of silver hair that streamed from them. Light markings lined her chest—He thought she was stunning.

“So let it be.” Aemond concluded,tugging her body back into his own.

Rhaella allowed it,knowing this moment would succumb to the work of the sleeping liquid.

“I do wonder something though.” Rhaella mused as Aemond’s hand rested on the side of her thigh.

“Your mind never ceases,does it?” Aemond grumbled,eliciting a small pinch from Rhaella.

“Could you ever hate me?” Rhaella asked almost innocently.

“No,but not for a lack of trying.” Aemond replied immediately. 

Rhaella pondered if he would feel any different after what she’d done to him. Instead,she let the silence consume both of them in a particular agony.

Aemond would likely not see her like this again,should they meet hereafter it would be on dragonback in battle.

In the dark and quiet,Rhaella felt herself become immensely drowsy from the wine. She slipped in and out of consciousness,blinking the sleepiness away in panic.

Rhaella could feel the small kisses Aemond was leaving into her shoulder blade come to an eventual halt.

He was asleep,finally. Rhaella took in his sleeping,nearly angelic form. His face was so gentle and it nearly pained her to leave him like this. She glanced down at his hands,one draped over her and the other clenched into a fist.

Aemond remained at war,even in his dreams.

When he would wake,he would hate her–Rhaella was sure of it.

And now they would be equal.

[scotianostra]

On 17th August 2010 Bill Millin, piper to Lord Lovat at D Day, died, aged 88.

Born on 14th July 1922 Saskatchewan, Canada to a father of Scottish origin who moved the family to Canada but returned to Glasgow as a policeman when William was three. He grew up and went to school in the Shettleston are of the city. He joined the Territorial Army in Fort William, where his family had moved, and played in the pipe bands of the Highland Light Infantry and the Queen's Own Cameron Highlanders before volunteering as a commando and training with Lovat at Achnacarry along with French, Dutch, Belgian, Polish, Norwegian, and Czechoslovakian troops.

Lord Lovat had appointed his personal piper during commando training at Achnacarry, and was the only man during the D Day landing who wore a kilt – it was the same Cameron tartan kilt his father had worn in Flanders during World War I – and he was armed only with his pipes and the sgian-dubh sheathed inside his kilt-hose on the right side.

Taken from accounts of 6th June 1944 on Sword Beach Normandy.

Bill began his apparently suicidal serenade immediately upon jumping from the ramp of the landing craft into the icy water on D Day. As the Cameron tartan of his kilt floated to the surface he struck up with Hieland Laddie. He continued even as the man behind him was hit, dropped into the sea and sank.Once ashore Millin did not run, but walked up and down the beach, blasting out a series of tunes. After Hieland Laddie, Lovat, the commander of 1st Special Service Brigade (1 SSB), raised his voice above the crackle of gunfire and the crump of mortar, and asked for another. Millin strode up and down the water’s edge playing The Road to the Isles.

Bodies of the fallen were drifting to and fro in the surf. Soldiers were trying to dig in and, when they heard the pipes, many of them waved and cheered — although one came up to Millin and called him a “mad bastard”.His worst moments were when he was among the wounded. They wanted medical help and were shocked to see this figure strolling up and down playing the bagpipes. To feel so helpless, Millin said afterwards, was horrifying. For many other soldiers, however, the piper provided a unique boost to morale. “I shall never forget hearing the skirl of Bill Millin’s pipes,” said one, Tom Duncan, many years later. “It is hard to describe the impact it had. It gave us a great lift and increased our determination. As well as the pride we felt, it reminded us of home and why we were there fighting for our lives and those of our loved ones.”

When the brigade moved off, Millin was with the group that attacked the rear of Ouistreham. After the capture of the town, he went with Lovat towards Bénouville, piping along the road.

They were very exposed, and were shot at by snipers from across the canal. Millin stopped playing. Everyone threw themselves flat on the ground — apart from Lovat, who went down on one knee. When one of the snipers scrambled down a tree and dived into a cornfield, Lovat stalked him and shot him. He then sent two men into the corn to look for him and they came back with the corpse. “Right, Piper,” said Lovat, “start the pipes again.”

At Bénouville, where they again came under fire, the CO of 6 Commando asked Millin to play them down the main street. He suggested that Millin should run, but the piper insisted on walking and, as he played Blue Bonnets Over the Border, the commandos followed.

When they came to the crossing which later became known as Pegasus Bridge, troops on the other side signalled frantically that it was under sniper fire. Lovat ordered Millin to shoulder his bagpipes and play the commandos over. “It seemed like a very long bridge,” Millin said afterwards.

The pipes were damaged by shrapnel later that day, but remained playable. Millin was surprised not to have been shot, and he mentioned this to some Germans who had been taken prisoner.They said that they had not shot at him because they thought he had gone off his head.

The pictures shows Millin playing at Edinburgh Castle in 2001, on Sword beach, 1994 and his statue there which was unveiled in 2013.

[oohnotvery]

Edges of the Night (Chapter 12)

Chapter 11 took me SO long to write, so I was relieved you all liked it (minus the cliffhanger).

Originally as I was writing Chapter 12, I planned to give you the entirety of this next “piece” of the story. As I started fleshing things out though, this chapter got incredibly long, and editing it has been a beast. I’m leaving to go out of town for a few days and have decided to split Chapter 12 into two or three smaller pieces. I’m hoping to feed you at least one more piece before I leave, but I can't promise anything.

Anyways, we’re super close to the end. Thank you soooo much for the comments. They FUEL me.

Although her current accommodations really are quite nice, Scully has been restless since arriving on the property. A combination of shock and sedation has made the past twelve hours a blur. She keeps remembering things in bits and pieces—seeing Skinner and the Gunmen appear at her bedside; listening as Skinner spoke to the woman in the hospital room, then the guard; leaving the hospital facility as a free woman, Byers pushing her in a wheelchair down a well-lit corridor. In fragments, she recalls a long van ride, awakening to a raging pain in her shoulder that Frohike promptly medicated with something over-the-counter.

The rest is lost to her.

When she wakes up in an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar room, she tamps down her initial panic by reminding herself that she is with trusted friends, that people who care about her have brought her here. Her shoulder aches badly but her mind is alert. There’s a plate of toast and a glass of water sitting on her bedside table, and she forces herself to sip at the water. A shopping bag sits beside the bed, and she rifles through it to find an interesting selection of generic women’s clothing and toiletries. She wonders who did the shopping and almost cracks a smile at the thought of Skinner picking out her underwear.  

A note rests beside the shopping bag, the handwriting unfamiliar.

Come downstairs when you’re ready.

She peeks out the bedroom window and sees a thick forest shrouded in twilight. It takes her a few minutes to find a bathroom and then the stairs. She quickly realizes she’s in an old house, and at the foot of the stairs is a living room where everyone has gathered. All four of the men watch as she takes the stairs and joins Frohike on the couch. They glance at her with a funny mixture of expressions: apprehension, relief, fondness, grief.  

Grief.

She doesn’t waste time on greetings or platitudes.

“Do we know anything about Mulder?” she asks, her voice weak from disuse.

Skinner shifts uncomfortably on the couch. “Not exactly,” he tells her regretfully. “My contacts at the Bureau told me that someone lunged at the cameraman, that there was a gunshot, and that Agent Mulder went down. From there, all the accounts report simply . . . chaos. When everything was said and done, Agent Mulder could not be located.”

Scully licks her lips, restraining her emotions. This is good, she thinks. They didn’t find a body.

“Who attacked the cameraman?” she asks.

“It’s not yet clear what happened,” he says enigmatically, and she doesn’t miss the way his eyes flit meaningfully to the Gunmen’s. They know something that I don’t, she realizes with a sinking stomach.   

“But you should know,” Skinner continues, “that regardless of the facts, the Bureau is officially reporting that Agent Mulder died from a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head.”

She closes her eyes and wills herself to breathe. There’s no proof, her logical mind argues. No one actually saw it happen.

But there was a gunshot.

“How did you know where I was being held?” she redirects, her investigative mind fighting for dominance over her emotions.  

Skinner clears his throat. “That uh, that was part of the deal,” he explains tentatively.

A pause. “The deal?”

“Mulder made plans to ensure your safety before—before committing the act,” he explains. “Part of that arrangement was releasing you freely back to your life, whatever that may look like. To live in peace.”

She scoffs. There’s no peace if Mulder is dead. “They put a gun to my head and filmed it for him to see,” she counters petulantly. “Mulder never had any real bargaining power with them. They could have killed me the minute Mulder—pulled the trigger.” She fumbles over the words.  

Skinner shrugs. “Yes, well . . . he planned for that too.”

She raises a brow in question.

“Before Mulder agreed to any sort of . . . action on his part, he asked that you be released into my protection. I got the orders to meet you at the hospital just hours after you were brought in.” Skinner’s face softens slightly as he nods towards the Gunmen. “I brought these three with me, because a long time ago, Mulder made me promise to use them to keep you safe. So that’s what I did. That’s why you’re here with us instead of back home in California.”

She takes a minute to absorb his words and feels a curious, confusing, unexplainable anger begin to rise in her body. “And where am I, exactly?”

“You’re at a safe house,” Skinner explains, “deep in the mountains of rural West Virginia.”

She cocks her head testily. “If I’m such a free woman now, why did you need to bring me to a safe house? I thought I wasn’t in danger anymore.” Her heart is beating fast, furiously.

“Truthfully, we don’t have all the facts yet. We don’t know what happened to Agent Mulder and we don’t want to risk your safety any further.” He pauses, his expression hardening. “If Agent Mulder isn’t—if he didn’t die, and if they discover that he’s still alive, your life could still be in danger.”

“And if—if the opposite is true?” She can’t even bring herself to speak that possibility aloud.  

Skinner nods tightly. “If Agent Mulder is dead, then you’re free to live your life. Mulder’s death guaranteed your continued safety.”

“There is no guarantee,” she spits as heat rises to her cheeks. It’s irrational, and she remembers the threat of a cold gun pressed against her temple, but all she knows right now is a searing pain, a heated rage, a colossal fury, at the fact that once again, Mulder thought he could save her life by leaving her. “Those people—whoever they are—they could still decide to murder me, or torture me, or kidnap me. Just because he might be—dead doesn’t mean I’m safe—”

Skinner holds up a hand and she falls quiet, her mouth open in protest. “It was a guarantee,” he says softly but firmly. “Mulder’s life for your protection. As much as they threatened to hurt you, Scully, they never actually wanted you. Sure, they used some very credible threats to scare Mulder into making moves. But now that he’s gone—”

She flashes Skinner a warning look and he murmurs an apology.

“Now that Mulder might be gone,” he corrects quietly, “they couldn’t care less about you. It was always about discrediting the X-Files, discrediting Agent Mulder. And you were always just . . .”

“A pawn,” she says softly. “But the X-Files were mine too.” A sharp pain rips through her heart, surprising her. She’s been so distracted, so busy, so scared, that she hasn’t quite begun to absorb the loss of the files, or the grief that comes with that loss. She shoves the thought aside. It will be something to deal with later.

Skinner sighs. “Yes, well. Luckily for you, all they wanted was the figurehead of the X-Files. We’re in a holding pattern right now, waiting to see if any more information comes forward about Agent Mulder. But when you return to California, your safety is guaranteed, so long as you keep your mouth shut.”

Her ears ring with the unfairness of it all. “They tried to kill us!” she spits. “They made Mulder destroy his life’s work, they villainized him for kidnapping me, they’ve made him out to be some kind of—of—of lunatic! When all he ever wanted to do was keep me safe. It’s not fair, it isn’t right. The world needs to know the truth—”

“Agent Scully!” Skinner barks exasperatedly. She falls quiet. “Agent Mulder gave his life for you. And these three men have risked everything to keep you safe. If you return to California and start spouting off the truth of what happened out there, Mulder will have died in vain.”

Something inside her snaps. “He’s not dead, dammit!” she shouts, leaping to her feet. She fixes Skinner with a furious look and he rises, catching hold of her biceps. But when he meets her incensed gaze with tenderness, her defenses fall.

“He can’t be dead,” she whispers desperately as he pulls her into his arms.

She feels a large palm cup the back of her head and her entire body trembles as grief and outrage race through her. He’s right, she tells herself, but in the back of her mind, she’s still wondering about the suspicious look he exchanged with the Gunmen earlier. They know something I don’t, her mind plays on repeat. What aren’t they telling me?

“Do you know?” she asks wetly, pulling back. “Do you know what happened to Mulder?”

Skinner shakes his head candidly. “I do not.”

She swallows hard, her vision swimming, and drops back down to the couch. She rakes her hands through her hair, tugging hard at the roots and wincing when the pain is too much.  

“Mulder spent years blaming himself for the way my life has played out. Funny,” she says with a mirthless laugh, “that I’m now the reason for his suffering.”

All four men drop their eyes to their laps and a tense, disconsolate silence fills the space. Gently, Frohike places a hand on her wrist and she notices offhandedly the way her tears pool on the back of his hand.  

“So,” she asks after a time, brushing carelessly at her wet cheeks. “This is an FBI safe house?”

Skinner’s solemn face finally ticks up into a sort of smile. He glances at the boys. “No. It’s a Lone Gunmen safehouse.”

**

It’s been twenty-four hours since she was rescued from the hospital room. She aches from head to toe and her post-surgery body is desperate for rest, but she can’t sit still.

Her mind is obsessively fixated on Mulder. Whether he’s alive, whether he’s being held somewhere, whether he’s dead and where they’ve put his body. Skinner has delicately kept her abreast of all the Bureau updates—official headlines about Mulder’s erratic behavior, his descent into madness, his visits to the psych ward. His suicide.

Yes, the X-Files have been properly besmirched.

For hours, Frohike tries to get her to eat, but her stomach refuses anything besides toast. She blames her lack of appetite on the surgery, but anyone with half a brain can tell she’s stuck in the agonizing push-and-pull of despair and hope.  

The first morning at the house dawns gloomily. Raindrops streak the windows and low, leaden clouds hang heavily across the sky. Out here in the woods, where a thick forest surrounds the house on every side, she can hardly see anything but trees.

She’s sitting at the kitchen table pushing oatmeal around in a bowl when Skinner bursts into the room.

“Get to the basement,” he demands tersely, yanking his Glock out of its holster.

She jumps up abruptly but before she can ask questions, the Gunmen are ushering her swiftly towards the house’s basement stairwell. She glances back at Skinner and watches him duck beneath the front window.

“What is it? What’s happening?” she asks as she flies down the stairs.

Langly slams shut the basement door and locks it quickly, then gestures for her to keep moving. “A car coming up the road triggered the alarm system.”  

“But it—it could be anyone,” she suggests rationally, even though her heart is racing. “A lost hiker, someone just passing through—”

Langly shakes his head knowingly. “Not out here. This is end-of-the-world territory.”

The basement is wide and spacious, lit by a single, exposed bulb with a pull-chain. Although there are places to sit against the walls, everyone remains standing, a collective anxiety thrumming between their bodies. If someone dangerous breaches the house, if Skinner can’t hold them back, Scully knows the four of them don’t stand a chance down here.

“I need a weapon,” she mutters irritably. “Why don’t I have a weapon?”

No one answers her and she swears. “I should be up there with Skinner,” she says defiantly. “Even unarmed, I can fight—”

Frohike places a firm hand on her uninjured shoulder. “Let him handle it. You’re the priority.”

When she opens her mouth to protest, he shoots her a warning look that she’s never before seen on the little man. “Agent Scully, might I remind you that we didn’t go to all this trouble for you to die.”

She glares at him for a second longer before her shoulders sag in surrender. Stuck down in the basement, though, her frustration and anxiety have nowhere to go, and she finds herself pacing restlessly. If there is danger upstairs, she would rather face it head-on. Hell, she’d give almost anything to have a chance at taking down the people who hurt her and Mulder.  

Eventually, she makes her way to the top of the stairs and presses her ear to the door, but the basement might as well be a steel trap for all that she can hear. Frustrated and on edge, she paces back down the stairs and rounds on Frohike.

“What do you and Skinner know about Mulder that I don’t?” she demands accusatorily.

His eyebrows fly to his hairline. “What do you mean—”

“I saw the look he gave you earlier when you were talking about what happened at the Hoover Building. Something—something happened and you all know—”

A knock at the basement door sends them jumping out of their skins, and all three of the boys rush to stand protectively in front of her.  

“All clear,” they hear Skinner announce loudly.

Frohike frowns, unconvinced, and starts climbing the stairs towards the door. “Prove it, FBI boss,” he shouts back.

“Open the damn door, Frohike,” comes a familiar voice.

Scully gasps, her whole body freezing. And then she lurches forward, shoving Frohike aside to take the basement stairs two at a time. Her fingers fumble agitatedly at the lock on the door and when she finally gets it, she flings it open.  

Mulder stands at the entrance, a beaming Skinner behind him. She meets her partner’s eyes, tracks the elation and devotion in his gaze. His lips quirk into a smile and she sags with relief.

“Come here, Scully,” Mulder murmurs quietly, just for her.

Without hesitation, she falls into him and he catches her, wrapping an arm tightly around her waist, pressing her body flush to his. His other hand sinks into her hair, drawing her head down into his chest. She links her uninjured arm around his neck and squeezes him fiercely, unwilling to ever let go.

“You’re alive,” she breathes, tears gathering on her lashes, “oh, thank God, you’re alive.”

“You okay?” he asks, fingertips skimming her wounded shoulder. She notices offhandedly that he is trembling.

Holding back a sob, she nods, pressing her face into his shirt, letting her tears dampen his neck.

“I love you,” she mouths into his skin, unwilling to speak the words in front of their audience.

His fingertips scratch idly at her scalp, then travel down to her neck, then her back, where his warm palm rubs up and down her spine. She wants to stand here all day wrapped in his arms, but after a few moments, his hands slip to grip her waist, and then he gently pushes her back. Off her surprised look, he gives her a soft, sad smile, then brushes his thumb across her jaw. Her hands resettle against his hips, unwilling to lose contact with him just yet.

“You, uh, you may want to say hello to the person responsible for my being alive.” His tone is a complicated mixture of gratitude and resentment, and she frowns.

He pauses, his eyes pinning her in place, and then he dips his head and breaks her gaze. When he moves aside, her mouth parts in shock.

Because standing behind Skinner is Alan.

[cosmonavo]

more of my characters

I had mentioned that I would be creating more drawings of my original characters this week. Honestly, these don't intertwine much with the one I recently introduced, but I have a similar affection for them. HxH, OC's, Informations

Sundra:

This would be the most chaotic among all the others because his definitions of justice closely resemble those of Chrollo, and not only that, but his persona in contrast to Chrollo has many similarities, although he refuses to admit it. However, unlike Lucilfer, Sundra believes that the weak should be left behind to deteriorate, and the strong should abandon them without any remorse. During his childhood, Sundra learned that the line between good and evil is very thin and can be broken even by the purest-hearted person. Although the Elder of Meteor City tried to instill different thoughts in the young man, the place they lived in did not help reinforce positive teachings about the boy. Even with his firm thoughts, he was still open to new knowledge, especially history and mathematics, things he showed genuine interest in. However, his attention always fell flat when the Elder tried to introduce religion into his learning. You see, Sundra is not a self-proclaimed atheist; he just does not recognize and refuses to believe in his own insignificance. This man believes he is a kind of exception among the masses, mainly due to the locality where he was born, where the chances of survival are 1 in 100%. This only intensified his thoughts about being "something greater."

Considering his strongly rooted beliefs, Sundra never had much sympathy for his teammates. In his young life, he had a total of 28 different partners in he equip, all of whom died very quickly. Sundra does not consider himself the cause of their deaths; far from it. In fact, he sees himself as the only one competent enough to return alive, something that understandably infuriates his superiors. Sundra doesn't care if his henchmen live or die; from his perspective, returning alive is nothing more than an obligation. If you can't even do that, you'll be left to suffer. On the other hand, he believes strongly in his own potential and allows himself to be carefree in most missions, even if he receives advice to be more responsible. Sundra ignores them, receiving warnings from the Elder of the city that time would come to hold him accountable for his actions someday (this men has strong tendencies of god complex and superiority, something that leaves many of his acquaintances astonished). Chrollo, however, views this with fascination, even if he doesn't comment. It makes him excessively curious because, in his view, Sundra was a hope and kind child, and seeing him evolve into an aberration was a significant shock for Chrollo.

Speaking of Chrollo, his relationship with Sundra is quite tumultuous. Sundra harbors strong resentments toward Lucilfer for being left behind because, as he believes, "Only the weak are left behind." This left an irreparable scar on him, and Chrollo sees himself as partially responsible for it. Chrollo wouldn't say that it disappoints him, but it also doesn't please him much. It's like saying, "Bitch, i made you strong, why are you so angry with me?" But jokes aside, Chrollo is a bit disappointed to be so excluded from the life of his younger brother. He still loves the brother because he is his only remnant of a true and blood family. Although Chrollo has some expectations to strengthen their bonds and rekindle their brotherhood, Sundra being a teenage shit doesn't help much in his advances. This makes their interactions somewhat similar to:

"Your clothes are stinking."

"I don't remember asking for your opinion!'

Sundra has a somewhat passive-aggressive approach towards Chrollo, even though deep down he still wants to be recognized and praised by him, but he would never admit it. He prefers death.

Chrollo felt a bit flattered when he discovered Sundra's tattoo, something that happened randomly during a meeting when Sundra pushed back his sweaty hair, and Chrollo could see the cross centered between the young man's eyebrows. That intrigued him, of course, and he asked why he had the same tattoo, and Sundra unsatisfied replied that the parasite in his body wanted to remind him of the most hateful memories rooted in his mind by doing the damn favor of staining his skin. To Chrollo's displeasure, it wasn't a lie.

Now, the relationship of the boy with the rest of the Phantom Troupe is somewhat... Curious. curiously: When Sundra doesn't like something, any extension of that becomes a nuisance as well, and he sees those people as extensions of Chrollo, but he doesn't hate them. He has an internalized curiosity about some of them, like Phinks, Feitan, and Franklin. The Troupe, however, maintains some rigid composure around the boy because they are aware of his relationship with Chrollo. In a way, this intimidates them; they wouldn't want to deal with Chrollo. Because if Sundra is an aberration, Chrollo is a demon-

Now, Hisoka is a case apart. He knows that the members originating from Meteor City wouldn't try anything, but Hisoka? That always keeps Chrollo on alert whenever the two are in the same space or within a 25 km radius. Chrollo always advises him not to exchange words with the Hisoka, but his instructions always fall on deaf ears, and this tests the patience of the leader of the criminals.

Sundra had a name offered to him by the mafia, but he completely rejected it (he said it was cheesy).

Nemesis:

Nemesis is a bestial and wrathful creature, like a skittish cat. Previously, the girl had a completely different life, with a family, a name, dreams... But everything came crashing down when her tribe was attacked and separated by slave traders.

Nemesis was part of a bestial tribe of feline-looking beastmen, the young one was known as El'Drue, and she was the daughter of an important warrior within her group. However, the young woman wished to be one of the healers of her tribe and strived to achieve what she wanted. Life as a wanderer was difficult and dangerous, but she could do it because that's how her people knew how to live. But everything she knew as affection changed suddenly in an instant when the slave traders arrived, with those horrible nosebands. She hates remembering how all her memories were destroyed by petty people, causing her so much suffering. Those traders traveled several runes until they reached the cities of illegal trade; it took almost four years to finally be auctioned off and taken from that wagon. That was when the bestial woman fell into the hands of the LeBlue mafia. They gave her a name, clean clothes, and a place to sleep. It wasn't much, but for someone who had nothing, that was true paradise. They raised her to serve that household and eliminate any traitor, anything that dared to turn against her master. And she did.

Nemesis is aware that those people are not good citizens; good people do not kill and do not traffic in jewels and historical objects. However, they gave her a place to call home. Five years later, she was sent to Meteor City as part of an agreement between her master and the Elder of the city, a pawn for another. She was there to work with the natives of the city, and honestly? She hated the three years she spent in that city. It was a sad place. This made her lose her status in society; she was erased from the records. Disappeared completely. And yet, even after everything, she could still feel some compassion for the people of that city, how they were so similar to her.

She is a wrathful and quiet woman, which is advantageous when acting alone and in silence. But her methods changed abruptly when she started acting in a group. That annoyed her, although she didn't often share her thoughts, her actions were already sufficiently understandable. Nemesis has a lot of distrust in people, even after getting to know them, due to her traumatic past. And she particularly detests humans. She can coexist with them, but it doesn't mean she likes them, especially Sundra; the girl harbors a particular grudge against him. She abhors his arrogance and vanity, especially after he implied that he would sleep with her if there was no one better available. She, however, still has some respect for Tyche, as he never crossed her limits and even praised her occasionally. Internally, she likes to receive this kind of verbal validation; after all, it was what she received the most while serving the LeBlue.

Nemesis knows that she will never get her old life back and still does not deal well enough with grief; it is still alive and palpable in her skin and actions. Her scars are deep and painful, and sometimes, she wakes up with dry tears in her eyes, hating it, especially when it's Sundra's turn to night patrol; he always makes a point to remind her that she was crying all night. He's a despicable sadist—then she tries to kill him, and that's when Tyche intervenes.

Nemesis has very sensitive ears and a keen sense of smell, which irritates her at times. Sundra takes advantage of her bestial characteristics as much as he can; sometimes, he pulls her by the tail when he's in a hurry, and quickly, it turns into a tug-of-war. Other times, he just steps on her tail with dirty boots, making her scream and jump very high. In general, he is the one who has the most fun!

She has seen many movies (and none were by choice) because Sundra drags her to the cinema after their missions. These scenarios are always comical, look: they are bloodied and scratched while asking for two tickets from a scared attendant. She had not seen any movies until then, so when she told the partner (and how she regrets it), he started referring to her as a Neanderthal-

sorry i am lazy today

[kotamagic]

This week on Lore Olympus...HOLY SHIT! IS THAT CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT I SEE???

Last week, we saw Demeter call Persephone and tell her about Demophoon. She immediately came over to discuss it in person and to show sympathy and support.

Demeter feeling she lost both children (one to marriage, one to an infection) is completely valid. Even in the case of Persephone, who is immortal, she "lost" her to her own issues, but given more recent developments, it isn't a total loss. She went to therapy (are they still going to that off-screen? I hope so.) and now she's talking about Demophoon. Progress is progress, no matter how small.

Moments later, Hades appears with Demophoon, and Demeter is in shocked tears. The baby she thought she'd never see again is back.

Hades, my dude, "creative accounting" is an interesting way of fudging numbers.

Yeah, and this good deed on Hades' part needs to stay hush-hush, or EVERYONE is going to want a similar favor. Why do Castor & Pollux, the Gemini twins, come to mind....? (In b4, Zeus fudged THAT one...)

Ah, ok, this is how Rachel is working around this...

As I mentioned in my previous LO post, the original myth has it that Demophoon's immortality ritual got interrupted. Depending on the source, he died either during the fudged ritual, or perished later of other causes. (Possibly a foot injury, as mentioned in LO) Demeter would later take Demophoon's older brother, Triptomelus, as an apprentice and teach him about agriculture.

Rather than add the complexity of Demeter having 2 children during the 10 year gap, we're re-naming Demophoon as Triptomelus and HE is going to learn, then teach agriculture. Let's just hope no one accidentally slips the truth out.

After Hades and Persephone leave, Demeter, Hera, and Hebe Hestia proceed to have... a lady's evening with wine?

Demeter is still a bit salty about Hera marrying Persephone to Hades, but let's be honest (cuz Hera definitely was), they were gonna get married with or without someone else's permission.

The discussion then moves back to Metis, and Demeter's memories of her. Demeter herself was into physical activities back in the day, but they had to go on hold to save the world. Having been denied that, Demeter gave (more like forced/encouraged) Persephone to take up physical activities in her place. Was she trying to live vicariously through Persephone by doing so?

During the discussion, Hera touches Demeter's bracelet from Metis and suddenly has a vision. It's not a pretty one, and from what I can gather, it's either Hera herself or possibly Hebe in Kronos' clutches! And here, we were thinking Kronos was going to have Melinoe target Morpheus!

Anyway, thanks for coming to my LO post! There will be a bonus post with visual commentary coming up shortly!

[klypsolworks]

Thank you!!!! I love Firefly and if you're confused I have two accounts one for g.I joe stuff and one main

I loved the show I loved the baroness and Deadstar together (I can't spell his name sorry) and don't get me wrong I like the twins but they annoyed the shit out of me!!!

I personally like Scarlett mostly cause I'm a girl's girl lol and I like the other guys two and was shocked they "killed" someone off the first episode but my ass knew he was going to come back cause obviously kids show but I thought it would be a season finale type thing but they probably put him in last few episodes cause they knew that the show was getting canceled 😞

Sorry for ranting

No need to apologize. I love a good rant! In fact, I'm about to go on one myself.

And yeah, I figured out the two accounts, but thanks for clarifying anyway. It's appreciated.

Firefly was a great addition to the show, and I wish we got to see more of him. His love of fire was really interesting to see and I wanted to see how he and Cobra Commander would've interacted. I may be remembering wrong, but I'm pretty sure he really only talked to Baroness. Still a great character.

Renegades also had the best version of Destro and Baroness I've seen yet. I personally hate most other versions of those two. Destro more than Baroness, but still. They always just came off as no good, selfish, and way too egotistical. And not in a fun way like Cobra Commander. But this show made them genuine, and I appreciated that a lot.

I'm still not the biggest fan of Scarlett. I think her dynamic with Snake Eyes was cool, and I liked her banter with the rest of the team. But in the end, she was still largely a stuck-up know it all just like in the original series. I'm probably just biased though, and I'm glad she has fans because she's a well written character.

As for Tomax and Xamot, I liked what they did with their psychic abilities. It was an interesting take on the characters. However, they were clearly underutilized, and I sadly wasn't invested in them much after their first episode. I'm sure they would've been fleshed out better if the series wasn't canceled. However, I still think I like them better than the original twins who were mostly just untrustworthy worms.

I was genuinely surprised by Ripcord's death and revival. I'm impressed that anyone saw that coming. I actually laughed pretty hard when he first died. Not sure why. Maybe I was just shocked, but it amused me. Sometimes kids shows really do keep characters dead though. Transformers Prime, for example, killed off Cliffjumper in the first episode and only brought him back as a zombie to be killed again. Anyway, point is Ripcord's whole story was cool and I wish we could've seen more. Just wish he didn't talk in his Bio Viper form.

Great show! 10/10 would watch again. Feel free to share more thoughts and we can keep ranting back and forth!

[anidealistatbestburntoutatworst]

there are two types of vampires in this world (not really, but humor me)

the ones who are vampires and also gay

OR

the ones who are gay and also vampires

[otakween]

They Were Eleven (1986)

Heck yeah, 80s anime. I became an anime fan in the 2000s so I tend to seek out the moe aesthetic, but I can definitely appreciate the beauty in older gens too. It seems like the 80s were a sci-fi paradise and the style of the time fits the genre well. Thoughts below.

Notes:

It's always nice when an anime film is adapting a one shot rather than a series, makes so much more sense. Almost no content was lost except for a tiny bit of world building here and there. The pacing was just right.

I kinda hoped Frol would have a deeper voice, but I guess they thought that would be too gay or something. In the dub they have a southern accent which I guess is to account for their hick dialect in the original Japanese. I could tell that they spoke in a manly way at least (lots of "zo" sentence endings, for example)

I was surprised to see this movie even got a dub. It's pretty high quality too, no old dub scuff. Impressive. (Too bad no one remembers it lol)

They did the cheesy epilogue thing where it's like "so-and-so went on to become a pilot" (this is common at the end of documentaries and biopics). The thing that bugged me is that they revealed Glenn died shortly after the film!? Talk about a downer. The ending was so upbeat that it caught me off guard.

Seeing this plot for a second time I feel like they overreacted to the 11 person thing and to Frol's gender. I guess I get the space paranoia, but I feel like if I was in this situation I'd be like "there's an extra person? Eh, oh well" I might even be like "Sweet! Bonus help." Maybe that's naive. And Frol's gender? Why did the dude that saw them in the shower briefly act afraid of Frol? A ship full of aliens with alien biology and an intersex person is shocking why?

A food fight scene! I'm not sure I've ever seen that in anime before so I thought it was an American trope. Or maybe it's an 80s/90s thing...

I know they were basically forced to care about each other (to pass the test) but it was nice to see everyone concerned for Ganga and Frol when they got sick. Although things get tense they're an overall mature and intelligent cast

With the colorful cast and the "only 0.1% of people pass" schtick, I feel like this could be a Hunter x Hunter arc (space Hunter x Hunter would be kinda sick)

Everyone acting all buddy buddy with Tada at the end was kinda bullshit lol. They were at his throat like 2 seconds ago.

Just like in the manga we got that nice body (and racial) diversity. One thing I noticed more in this adaptation was the major height difference between Tada and some of the others during the handshake scene. It's a small thing, but it's nice having a male main character who doesn't need to dominate everyone else physically.

The #nohomo ending is still bullshit >:/

The music made for the movie just seemed like generic 80s pop, but it was still nice. Cool to get an insert song during the fight scene (the fansubbers provided karaoke subs haha)

[howlingday]

My idea for a potential DEATH BATTLE! #4

2023, October 11, 12, 13, 15

Link to the third post:

Master list:

https://www.tumblr.com/donotmindme1/731003687600881664/mind-what-you-do?source=share

Achilles vs. Cú Chulainn (Greek Mythology vs Irish/ Mythology)

Let their anger be known and all warriors shall fear them!

Fighter 1: Achilles, the legendary warrior of the Trojan War.

Fighter 2: Cú Chulainn, the guard dog demigod of the Ulster Cycle.

Wiz: Mythology has given us heroes, monsters, and gods with amazing power.

*insert clips of Marvel's Thor on a Warrior's Madness, Clash of the Titans, God of War's Kratos, Asura's Wrath's Asura, and Troy 2004,*

Boomstick: Yet no one seems to get the memo: do NOT anger them, even if they're human! Chances are, they are NOT just human! He's Wiz and I'm Boomstick.

Wiz: And it's our job to analyze their weapons, armor, and skills to find out who would win... a Death Battle.

PREFACE: I am really, REALLY sorry for the late post. I tried to make PCBs for a project but for some reason or another, my attempts failed. I got super obsessed and stressed over it and because of it, I lost a night's worth of sleep. Add to it the fact that I've been struggling with my other STEM classes, and I haven't given myself the time to flesh this out. Not only that but starting next week, I'll be taking tests for two weeks. Safe to say that I'll be busy for a long time, so sorry again...

WHY:

Connections:

1. Cú Chulainn's association as "the Irish Achilles".

2. Both were born to a divine-like parent and/or royalty. Achilles was mothered by the sea nymph Thetis and fathered by Peleus, king of the Myrmidons. Cú Chulainn is the son of the god Lug (Lugh).

3. Both have done great deeds but at the cost of their very short lives. This tends to be one of the greater points of comparison between the two.

4. Both are known for their anger and fury. Achilles' most famous bout of anger stemmed from finding out that Patroclus died and Cú Chulainn is known for his battle frenzy (ríastrad, sometimes called a "warp spasm") in which his body becomes contorted and attacks anyone indiscriminately.

5. Both are super strong and are so skilled that they are deemed to be one of the greats of their respective myths. Achilles was said to be necessary for the conquest of Troy and Cú Chulainn was said to be the greatest of the Knights of the Red Branch.

Personal reasons: I can say with little if any hesitation that Season 9 giving us Heracles vs Sun Wukong was a shock to the system. No longer was DB! limited to pop culture's versions of ancient myths as they focused on the original texts and accounts, giving us what could honestly be one of the show's greatest analysis sections. Inspired by this, I thought up a matchup: a three-way battle between Achilles, Cú Chulainn, and Sigurd/Siegfried (I thank Persona 5 Strikers for introducing me to the last two, especially Cú Chulainn) because of how similar they at least appeared to be. I was pleasantly surprised when I found out that Cú Chulainn was sometimes called "the Irish Achilles", but I couldn't find any solid connections between Achilles and Sigurd other than the fact they obtained their invincibility from a divine source only to leave a single spot uncovered (Thetis dipped Achilles as a child in the waters of the River Styx, by which means he became invulnerable, except for the part of his heel by which she held him and when Sigurd bathed himself in Fafnir's blood, a leaf had fallen and stuck itself on his shoulder). However, I encourage others to idea up MUs using Sigurd, Gilgamesh, Beowulf, Rama, and figures from Aztec, Mayan, and Native American mythos. We need more myth matchups that aren't just Greek figures. I have at least one more matchup for the Greek itch. I had a different matchup that could likely be Halloween-themed, but it's unique, to say the least, and would require a very different analytical lens due to the source material. Not only that, but the source material could be to the disinterest of some, even if unlikely.

THE FIGHT:

Art and animation: This one will likely be a 2D sprite fight like Heracles vs Wukong. It would have an aesthetic like that of a storybook or tapestry to separate it from HeraKong's scroll and brush aesthetic. It would be best to not have a narrator again, or at least to not have the ending spoiled by the narrator if there is one.

Possible setup:

Both heroes are on their paths to glory, having emerged from battles with nary a scratch. Cú Chulainn is riding on his chariot, thinking of his lovely Emer, but Achilles is still mourning his dear Patroclus. They see each other and prepare for battle. Warriors need no reasons to fight other than glory and survival. On their chariots, they charge into battle.

FIGHT! :

1. Both warriors used their spears to slay the charioteers and horses and were successful. They leave the chariots and start using their spears, resulting in parries and attempts to use their swords as well.

2. Both warriors slowly pick up their paces, but Achilles is able to successfully parry and even disarm Cú Chulainn. Cú Chulainn then attempts to strike from afar using his slingshot. Achilles uses his shield, but Cú Chulainn is able to get some shots in, including near his heel. Achilles slightly staggers, and Cú Chulainn takes notice, but Achilles only lets out an angry war cry and lunges forward like a bull.

3. Achilles closes the gap by throwing his spear and impales his enemy. However, Cú Chulainn lets out his own war cry and becomes horrid and deformed. Achilles is not taken slightly aback by the monster, and attempting to hurt the warp-spasming warrior is hit very hard and launched backward. Achilles could've sworn he heard his armor slightly crack. The deformed destroyer grabs boulders and hurls them at Achilles who is able to dodge all but one and is knocked down.

4. Cú Chulainn calms down, remembering his beloved Emer. He removes the spear with which he was impaled and notices something: his opponent does not seem to be too injured. His armor and his skin do not seem to be scratched. "Could it be a magical set of armor? Is he invincible?" No. His new nemesis faltered when hit in the heel, so he should try to use the Gae Bolg where his enemy seemed to be weak.

5. Achilles recollects himself and draws his sword again. His enemy can seem to mutate into a monster and become vicious, but becomes violent, almost to a mindless degree, putting a lot of force in his strikes. He should strike afar from with his spear and evade his opponent's spear and slingshot. "He's strong, but it looks like he can still be hurt with my weapons. He struck my weakness, but does he know of it?" With his plan in mind, Achilles raises his shield and charges, evading Cú Chulainn's projectiles. Cú Chulainn even throws Achilles' spear back at him which Achilles catches.

6. They start to clash swords, spears, and shields again, striking any exposed skin they can. Cú Chulainn cannot seem to injure his opponent and his armor is very sturdy. However, he is able to graze Achilles' weak point, and Achilles pushes him away. "Aha! So he IS weak there!". Using his shield, Cú Chulainn parries his attack and attempts to get another strike in, but Achilles, using his spear, keeps his adversary away. "He seems to know. I must keep him at bay." Achilles, using his own defensive techniques, is able to momentarily fend off his rival.

7. Cú Chulainn now knows what needs to do. He needs to end the fight soon, or else he'll never see his dear Emer again. "For Emer." With his dear love in mind, Cú Chulainn warp spasms again, and assaults Achilles, trying to hit his heel. Achilles attempts to rush his foe, and he is able to injure him, but Cú Chulainn flat-out launches Achilles away, leaving his weak point exposed.

8. Achilles knows his enemy is weak and desperate. Why else would he mutate like he did? However, Achilles still feels a bit of pain in his heel; his opponent has hit his weak spot and he knows of his heel's vulnerability. He grabs his weapons and prepares for one final clash. "For Patroclus." He meets his foe's eyes again and both let out one final war cry and charge.

9. Achilles wins by tiring out Cú Chulainn. The monster gets angrier and angrier, but Achilles dodges, and taking advantage of his foe's seeming mindlessness, slashes off one of his arms. The monster staggers, and in a short time, Cú Chulainn returns to normal, panting and bleeding. He ties himself to a stone using his own entrails and meets Achilles' eyes once again. Achilles throws his spear and successfully impales the now-normalized foe who lets out a shout of anger, seemingly not one of anger.

10. Cú Chulainn wins by keeping Achilles at a distance. Still in his ríastrad, Cú Chulainn is able to smash Achilles' armor so hard it starts to crack and break. The adversary attempts to rush him, but Sétanta knocks him away. He starts to calm down, knowing he only has one attempt to win. Seeing that Achilles' heel is exposed, he readies his weapon and throws the Gae Bolg with his foot. It successfully lands on Achilles' weak heel. The weapon then opens up into thirty barbs, causing Achilles to shout in agony and fall.

11. Both retrieve their weapons only after a raven lands on the corpse's shoulder. They pay their respects to their adversary for a great battle, entomb the other as a sign of respect, and depart the battlefield. Home is a long journey away, and without the horses, even longer.

12. KO!

RESULT:

Strengths and weaknesses:

Achilles:

+ Has divine armor from the god Hephaestus as well as his invulnerability from bathing in the Styx and/or the ambrosia he was fed as a baby.

+ Arguably the more experienced warrior due to his time in the Trojan War and his training under the centaur Chiron.

+ Is capable of killing powerful and skilled warriors like Hector, Penthesilea (Queen of the Amazons), and Memnon.

- The only weak point is his heel, but it was only exploited because of the god Apollo.

Cú Chulainn:

+ Actually favored by the gods of his pantheon.

+ Is likely the greater warrior as he defeated Fer Díad and Aífe. Fer Díad and Cú Chulainn were trained under the legendary Scottish warrior Scthach, and Aífe is said to be Scathach's rival and stated to be equal to Cú Chulainn in skill. Cú Chulainn also single-handedly fought Queen Mab's army and even harmed Morrigan, said to be a goddess of battle and war, though not in direct combat.

+ His anger is more dangerous due to the ríastrad.

+ Has a ranged option in a slingshot.

+ Likely has a healing option as when he met his father in a dream, his father healed him.

+ The Gae Bulg allows for an instant kill...

- ...assuming that Cú Chulainn can pull it off in time and Achilles doesn't avoid it.

- Can still be killed like a normal warrior, but that was because he broke his oaths which weakened him, and was killed by a magic king-killing spear.

- His healing was done in a dream, and Achilles doesn't tend to leave opponents in just a sleeping state. Even then, the healing doesn't seem to be instant.

Ending puns:

"Setanta just couldn't exploit his opponent's Achilles' heel."

"Achilles should've said 'Cú-dbye'." (Cú + goodbye)

MUSIC:

Name: "Face My Fury"

The title makes reference to both combatant's anger.

Art: The art would depict Achilles' shield being pierced by the Gae Bolg, but the spear would be chopped by Achilles' sword.

Sound: Grand and orchestral again, but it would be faster and even have some metal elements in it. The orchestra is for the mythological aspect and the metal is for when the two get angry.

THANK YOU AND I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS!

---------------------------------------------------

First and foremost, amazing work.

This would be an amazing fight to see. However, I might be a little rusty in my folkloric knowledge, because I must have missed the "warp-shift" (and to be honest, I'm not as familiar with Cú Chulainn as I, a huge myth fan, should be).

I also find the references to their bonds pretty interesting, since I don't think we get a lot of internal dialogue in either references.

"Face My Fury" is pretty good for a track, so...

FACE MY FURY

[penn-to-paper]

I suppose this is the start of my digital journal.

Maybe people will see it, maybe they won't, it doesn't matter much to me. I'll just be more motivated to keep this going every day (or perhaps every other day, if I don't have time) if I know people can tell whether I've written or not. Simply a way of keeping myself accountable and documenting dates and times when I feel like writing.

With that out of the way, maybe it's best to get to the heart of it.

Almost a month ago now (though it feels much shorter) I received a phone call from my mom telling me my father died. She called me when I was at work, which she never does unless it's something important. I was never very close with my father, he left my mom when I was young and didn't keep contact, so it was more a shock than anything else. It was only the beginning of the surprises coming my way. After his affairs were put in order, I was sent an email by the executor. I hadn't expected to receive much from him, but when I read the contents, he left me his house. I was confused, to say the least, though in retrospect it may make more sense than I thought originally. I am his only child, after all, and it seems as though he didn't have many people in his life. It was quite serendipitous, because I've been thinking about where I want to live for quite some time now. I'm an adult now, I can't live with my mother forever, so this may be the perfect opportunity.

Fast forward to about a week ago, I decided to drive down to the house and check it out. It's kind of in the middle of nowhere, an hour to the nearest grocery store. I brought a small suitcase and an air mattress so I could see how it would feel to live there. When I arrived, it was clear that the air mattress wasn't necessary. The house still had all of its furnishings, though it was quite dusty. It's a big thing to take care of, but it's beautiful. I fell in love with it as soon as I stepped through the door. Since it's so far from the city, it's always quiet at night. No cars driving by, no people outside, just nature. I have to admit I can already feel the loneliness of the silence creeping around me. If I live here, I'll have to find some roommates. Today, I'm packing the car with all my things from my mother's house to move in. She's coming with me for a few days to help me clean, but after that I'll be living by myself in a house that's all mine for the first time.

I'll write about what she thinks of the house tomorrow.

Penn

[youreobsessedwithtoomanyfandoms]

Don't Let Me Go (Part 3)

Words: 1660

Warnings: language, talk of alcohol/alcohol consumption, regret, Leon being a dick but for a kinda good reason, people may be mad at reader cause of what she does but whatever idc this is my fucking story, maybe ooc characters and probably bad writing

Resident Evil Masterlist Main Masterlist Join My Taglist

This also was originally written for my OC Tiffany (Whose info on her/original story will eventually be available on this account @imnotobsessedwfictionalchracters )

Leon and Hunnigan are PROBABLY OOC (as I suck at not being able to keep them from being OOC)

Actually find it fucking insane how long this thing is all together

This is it in multi-part form: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

This is it in one part form

Reader and Leon are partners with their job (have been since 2004/2005) and is insinuated to be around the same height as Leon

Not Proof-read and I think it can be seen every once and a while (I know you can see where my brain couldn't function how to write the scene so I just guessed and hoped for the best)

Can be read as its own story or as a sequel to You’re About To Lose The Best Damn Thing You’ve Ever Had

Losely has themes from the songs Never Say Never by The Fray, No Surprises by Radiohead, Afterglow by Taylor Swift, and Look After You by The Fray

Anywho, enjoy

Love Z <3

March 9th of 2009

Y/N's POV

Beeping. That was all she could hear. Her entire body was sore, feeling like she had been dropped from the top of a building. After a few moments of trying, she finally was able to open her eyes. But she instantly regretted it as the bright fluorescents welcomed her. She groaned as they tried to adjust to the brightness. She looked around and suddenly realized that she was in a hospital. That was the reason for the beeping as she realized how hooked up she was. 

Her throat felt dry and like something had been pulled from there. She moved her head to the side and let out a shocked gasp when she saw who was by her. She thought she had been dreaming. That the fever she knew she had from the infection that she knew had happened from the terrible keep of her cut had made her imagine he was there. That he had been the one to save her. 

She felt her hand move to reach out to him, but she dropped it when she heard the sound of the door opening. A lady, probably around her grams’s age, walked in. She had a soft smile on her face when she looked at Y/N and walked closer to her. Y/N watched as the lady began fiddling with one of the bags that she assumed was liquids to keep her from getting dehydrated. 

“You’re very lucky that boy got to you when he did.” The lady turned to her, “He’s a keeper, that one. He hasn’t left this hospital except for the one time me and another nurse forced him to get a hotel and sleep properly.”

“He’s just my partner--no, wait, he...I don’t know.” It hurt to speak, it felt like she hadn’t used her voice in years.

The lady raised a brow, “I doubt whatever he did will last long. You’ve been here a week and he’s had chances to go back to DC, but he’s stayed here.”

“Where is here? And what day is it?”

“You’re in Vancouver, it’s March 9th. Do you know the year?”

“2009?”

“Good, who’s your President?”

She genuinely had no idea. Graham had ended his Presidency a few months ago and she still had to learn the new guy's name. Only did she know the Vice-President. “I haven’t learned his name yet, but the Vice-President is Adam Benford, he used to be the CIA Director.”

“Hm, I guess that works.” The nurse chuckled, “You sure know a lot about him.”

She looked at Leon, “Yeah...the two of them are friends.”

“I should have expected that. Well sweetheart, we have you on a morphine drip to--”

“I-I can’t have morphine in large doses. It affects me worse than dilaudid.”

The lady took a look at her file and sighed, “Well I be damned, the nurse who did this completely ignored that it says no morphine.” She looked at Y/N, “I’m going let the head nurse know and we’ll get you switched onto, dilaudid you said? It works with no issue

“Yeah, every time it’s worked in the past it's been with no issues.”

“Alright.” She wrote something down, “I’ll be back in a few.”

Y/N nodded as that lady walked out of the room. Her eyes went back to Leon, who was still asleep in the chair, but she noticed how one of his hands was sitting on top of the bed, like he had been holding hers while she was out.  She gently took it in hers and brushed her thumb over the top. She wondered if Hunnigan ever found a loophole for them to work. If she ever found a way that she could use to show Leon they could have worked.

She watched as he stirred, his eyes slowly opening and blinking to adjust to the bright lights. He groaned before looking at her and she watched as he straightened up and took her hand in his own. She watched as his usual emotionless face turned to one full of emotions.

She gave him a soft smile, “Hey Lee.”

He moved the chair to be closer before he ran a hand over her, moving hair from her face. “Hey beauti--Y/N/N.”

She moved her hand to go back to rubbing the top of his, “You can call me beautiful. You got me out of there after all.”

“You scared me, y’know? I thought I had lost you there and I wouldn’t be able to tell you how sorry I--”

“Don’t, please. Just...just don’t. I don’t want to think about that. You’re here, that's what matters. That shows that you really care, even if you can be annoying about showing it.”

He gave a small smile, “Yeah, but I really am sorry for not...talking to you. It was fucking Stacey who walked in and he threatened to expose us. I just didn’t want your life to get fucked over.”

“Why would mine?”

He sighed, “Hunnigan said that unfortunately, STRATCOM would rather lose you than me. So if they had found out, they would have displaced you. Put you in another department or place you with one of the other offices. But we wouldn’t be able to see each other anymore.”

“And you were scared I would argue and say it was nothing.”

“Yep.”

She looked over to the other side, “I hate when you’re right.”

She heard him chuckle, “It’s a rare feat, but one that can happen.” She looked back at him and smiled, but the smile fell as she began to think. “What’s wrong?”

“Why did you call for a new partner?”

He let out a big sigh, “Because I knew I wouldn’t be able to handle seeing your broken face everyday. Be right by you, pretending to be a supportive friend while you move on.”

She scoffed, “Yeah, me moving on would’ve taken a lot. Trust me. I even asked Hunnigan to find loopholes in the rules for us to be together.” She sighed, “I guess she never found one cause she never told me.”

He laughed awkwardly and she raised an eyebrow, “Well...that’s not necessarily true.”

“What?”

“She found the loophole after you went dark.”

“And she told you?”

“So I might have come in drunk one day, felt bad because I did that because I drove drunk, and asked her to drive me back to my apartment. It was like I could hear you in my head getting mad, not because I showed up drunk, but because I drove drunk. So while she was taking me to my place, I might have spilt that I fucking hated what I did to you and wished that there was some fucking way for us to work and she might have told me the way it could. The small loophole that you asked her to go looking for.”

“What is it?”

“A lifetime commitment that we both said we weren’t ready for.”

“Kids?”

He snorted, “No. Not that.” He moved and dug in his pocket before handing her a small dark blue velvet box. She felt her heart in her throat. “Yeah...that’s the commitment.”

She opened the box to see the ring. It was simple, not over the top. Two diamonds with a sapphire in the middle on a silver band. She let out a shaky breath before looking at him, “When did you get this?”

“Um...a while ago actually. Last summer, I believe.”

She laughed slightly, “That was why you asked me what my ring size was.”

He laughed as well, “Yeah, I expected you to catch on.”

“But...that was before we talked about marriage.” She looked at him, “That was why you asked me, wasn’t it?”

He shrugged, “I realized that I would rather have a possible answer than make you uncomfortable.”

She smiled and for some reason, she leaned over to him and kissed his lips softly. “Why don’t you ask me now.”

“What?”

Her voice was soft, “Just ask that four word question.” She brushed some hair out of his face, “My answer won’t be dependent on it being the only way for us to be together and work together.”

He smiled, “Y/F/N, will you marry me?”

She smiled, “Yes.” She kissed him again, “Y’know, I would have said yes if you had asked me at Christmas.”

“Really?”

She nodded, “Mhm, that was around the time that I realized that even though marriage is a big commitment and we both have our issues with commitment, I was sure I would be able to fully stay with you. Was it partly because you’re the only guy I’ve ever been with that can handle me when my brain can’t function so I just shut down? Possibly. But it also had to do with the fact I can’t see myself with anyone else but you and every time I imagine a future, you’re always there.”

Now it was his turn to brush hair from her face, “So we could have avoided these past few months if I had just looked at the handbook for a loophole?”

She nodded, “Yep. But that doesn’t make me love you any less.”

He laughed, “Good.”

She closed the box and handed it back to him, “Hold onto it for me until we head back to DC.”

He took it and placed it back in his pocket, “I love you, you know that right?”

“I questioned it for a while, but yes, now I do.”

He laughed, “Good.”

They were silent for a few minutes until she looked him dead in the eye, “Can you promise me one thing, Leon?”

“What is it?”

“Never let me go, please? Promise me if you ever start to get insecure with anything in our relationship that you will tell me and we work on it.”

He smiled and kissed the top of her hand, “I promise.”

She smiled, “Good.”

[slasherbish]

Quiet Nights Part 14

After the group left Michael stalked them. He noticed the girl becoming increasingly uncomfortable. He smirked under his mask knowing that he hadn’t lost his skills. His knife in his hand itching for fresh blood. He could feel the humanity draining as the mask took over. The blonde man was giddy as they headed in the direction of where the body was found. Jake looked the most cocky out of the three as if he thought that even if they ran into The Michael Myers that he’d be able to handle the monster in human skin. He continued to stalk them waiting for a good moment to strike. 

Unbeknownst to the killer, his human had been walking over to the sewer room after their shift to try and cool off after dealing with another fangirl tourist. They walked in thinking that Michael had either returned home or had still been stalking and therefore knew where they were. The man wasn’t there but that didn’t bother you much. You decided to sit and relax in the room that you had originally found the killer in. Smiling at the memories the two of you had in the space. 

The group of three had stupidly split up to look for any clues as to where the killer may be. Michael couldn’t have asked for a better group to start on. He first picked off the Blonde man by grabbing his throat and lifting the man off the ground. The man struggled but couldn’t scream or call for help. His hands clawed at the killers arm, fear flooding his face as he noticed the shining knife in Michaels hand. In quick swift movements The Shape stabbed the man's chest and stomach repeatedly. Blood pooled on the ground as the humans arms went limp. Michael threw the now very dead body against a tree with a satisfying thump. 

A bloodcurdling scream came from behind the killer. He turned in a heartbeat to see the woman standing in shock and fear. “Y..you killed him..” She managed to say before running away. She didn’t know these woods though and soon she was very lost. Michael kept his normal brisk pace and soon saw her tumble down a hill that led to a dry creek bed. He picked up the disoriented girl and for a moment bathed in the fear that radiated off of her. “I’m sorry, let us go. We shouldn’t have come here.” She whimpered out right before Michael impaled her on a nearby thick broken tree branch. She sputtered and gurgled out blood as she slowly and painfully died. Eventually her head went limp. Only then did Micahel turn his focus to the final survivor. 

His years of practice and his mask helped him hear more sharply and track almost expertly. The killer caught up to Jake easily and got two good stabs in before the man managed to run away. Luckily for The Shape his victim was running straight to the sewer room. He didn’t feel a need to hurry knowing he’d be trapped in that room. If only he had taken into account that he wasn’t the only one that spent time in that gross little room. 

Hearing noise coming from the entrance you called out with a smile “Oh Michael you must be off your game, I’ve been here for half an hour.” They froze as a voice responded. “Michael?? You know the fucking monster that just killed my friends?!” The familiar voice yelled. Fuck was all you could think, you were currently like a rat in a cage, stuck. The bleeding form of the man named Jake came into view. It was clear he had already come into contact with the infamous Shape of haddonfield. You feigned calmness “I see you found what you were looking for. Was he all you hoped for and more?” You even managed a smirk. “He’s a fucking monster and so are you!” He yelled as he ran at you. He managed to punch you square in the jaw nearling breaking it. This human was no joke, he had muscle. He continued beating on you as you tried to dodge and weave. Their face and body hurt and bled more than they’d like. Finally you pushed him off hard enough that his head hit a cement wall. He had to take a second to shake the blur from his vision. 

In this moment you smiled brightly through the pain and even laughed out loud. “The fuck are you laughing at whore. I’m going to kill you and then that monster” Jake yelled angrily. “Don’t call him a monster fuck face” You said holding your side. The Killer had shown up and was beyond pissed off. He slammed the mans face into the cement wall repeatedly and then dragged his face across the entirety of it leaving a bloody smear behind. Jake screamed out in pain but didn’t have any time to recover as the sickening crack of his arms could be heard. Michael then cracked his ribs one by one wanting to draw out the pain. (Y/n) grabbed the small knife they kept in their bag at all times and stabbed Jake in the thighs and abdomen over and over. Warm blood flowed over their hands and splattered onto the ground but they couldn’t care less. Michael was slightly surprised at his humans actions but didn’t think too much of it. Moments later the killer dropped the man to the ground, letting him drown in a shallow puddle of sewer water that was on the uneven floor of the room.  

You looked up at Michael with a smile right before you passed out from the injuries. The stone cold killer picked you up and brought you home to rest. 

tags @vampire-hunter @babygurl97 @adaydreamaway08 @villainfan @makosgubaog