#plotting revenge in her jail cell

[stxss-art]

My great-great-great-....-great-great grandmother will hear about this!!!

[violetmuses]

Shattered - A. Aretas 🖤❤️‍🩹

Title: Shattered - A. Aretas 🖤❤️‍🩹

Fandom: “Bad Boys” Film Universe 

Character: Armando Aretas 

Pairing: Armando Aretas + Female Reader

Main Storyline: When Isabel Aretas seeks revenge, you cross paths with her son, Armando. @nelo0wesker @yassbishimvintage @peaxhygirl

====

2020

Three shadows moved past burning flames as this outdoor space crackled from every direction. Nightfall casted right over this pitch-black skyline. 

Standing in one bloodied prison uniform, Isabel Aretas leads the dark moment without ever speaking. 

You've met Isabel's son, Armando, and watch as this separate vehicle pulls up to help everyone depart the large and horrific scene. 

Onward. 

_____

Still lurking in Mexico, Isabel would plot vengeance all around.

Several members of the Miami Police Department jailed her late husband, cartel leader Benito Aretas.

No matter what happens next in South Beach, loyalty stood as this main rule. Wavering from that mission reeled Isabel's plan near wrong spaces. 

Even before reaching Miami with Armando, neither of you have spoken to each other. 

An invisible air rendered your voices silent in the otherwise gorgeous compound. Though Isabel hasn't expressed herself, you've known better. 

As of late, your communication with Armando lies between cell phones: 

Armando: Ready? ✈️ 

It's time to go. You thought. 

*****

The Miami Harbor reeked of brackish yet putrid air during one summer night. Gangsters nearly huddled around this dock in search of veiled cash. 

“I knew treasure stayed in the ocean, but somebody lied to us. Coño!” Zway Rodriguez shook his capped head while facing Armando. 

“Should cover the cost of materials we've discussed. And then some.” Armando revealed slightly accented English while holding money. 

“Who's this? Hola Mami.” Zway Rodriguez ignored Armando and pointed near you, stepping closer to flirt.

“None of your business.” Armando defended you here. 

“My bad. Thought you could share, man.” Zway lifts his hands. 

Weirdo. Armando thinks. 

“Let's renegotiate, especially when you have her with you. I know plenty of ballers who'd like to see that pretty face.” Another idiot wearing terrible sunglasses moved  forward and noticed Armando, but propped you up in this disgusting manner. 

 “ What you say? We had a deal.” Stepping even closer, Armando slowly reaches his breaking point. 

“Oops.” This idiot draws his firearm and points the weapon directly toward Armando. Other goons surrounded the men, lurking. 

Smirking in the dark, you cornered yourself once Armando finally reveals this Karambit knife to stab the idiot wearing shades. 

Aretas even shoots various bullets from his own gun. Both weapons quietly tucked sleeves found near leather pants. 

“C'mere, look at me. Last warning: I don't renegotiate.” Countless body drops later, Armando defended everything and lifted the choking man's face, taking this final bullet to kill him. 

Silently gesturing for you to come back, Armando takes charge.  Zway and other survivors watch this dangerous man speak once more.

As you've learned, the Aretas Cartel drifted through shadows like ghosts, horrific in many ways. 

“My family's taking back management of this town and we'll need some loyal employees. Who wants a job?” Armando grounded leadership. 

“Dental?” Zway then dared to be stupid all over again. 

“Say that again?” Armando pointed the barrel of his gun toward Zway's chin and you only lifted your brow, just waiting for that trigger to go off. 

“Easy, Papi.” Zway just kept taunting this moment, but Armando set the firearm down and tapped Zway's gold jewelry. 

“You'll work for me now.” Armando offered Zway rules without even yelling. “If you get people to fall in line and stay out of my fucking way, I won't kill you.” 

No longer talking, Armando stepped back, leaving Zway quietly anxious and scared. 

“All right, fellas. Listen up. Listen up. Let's get this money now. Vamos!” Zway shouted toward the others and people scrambled to gather remaining cash, alive. 

Standing on the dock, you watch as Armando dialed this number to contact his mother Isabel. 

When the phone call ended, Armando turned around and looked at you. 

“Yeah?” You whispered and leaned in to hear Aretas possibly speak. 

“May I?” His accented English pulled through when Armando glanced down, politely reaching for your hand. 

“Yes.” You gently take his palm in return and exit the dock, gaining actual trust. 

*****

“I'll be back. This one is on me.”  Armando stands in his motorcycle gear and interrupts you. 

“Who's the target?” You ask. 

“Mike Lowrey. I'm tired of waiting. Tag me.” Aretas gathered essentials and left this hotel room. You would still trace the operation. 

Here we go. You thought. 

______

Jackpot! 

Not long after Armando pulled his trigger, Detective Mike Lowrey stood down. 

“Got ‘em. Are you still waiting?” Aretas questioned your location by phone. 

“Yeah, why?” You glanced around while sitting near your laptop just in case. 

“Mind if we order room service or something?” His slightly accented English returned. 

“Celebrating?” You almost laughed in response to Armando. 

“Technically. The boogeyman is gone.” Aretas grounded this phone call. 

“All right. Let's do it.” You hung up and nearly smiled.  

______

Once you offered space for Armando's privacy, both meals and dessert lined up for enjoyment. 

“What's your name again?” Sitting across this table, Aretas dares to flirt, but you don't feel uncomfortable. 

“Very funny.” You clipped back. 

“All jokes aside, I'm serious.” Armando locked eye contact. “My mother hardly introduced us after the prison break.

Realization slammed thoughts down. Isabel's escape hit the ground running with vengeance and you couldn't process time altogether. 

You barely knew the man who stayed in this hotel room, her son. 

“Where should I start?” You offered the question, genuinely puzzled. 

“Doesn't matter.” Armando shrugged for a moment and still watched you. 

Even while music played from this Bluetooth speaker, Armando couldn't glance elsewhere. 

You're beautiful. And despite sharing this mutual understanding for violence, Aretas would still take bullets for you. 

“Want my file?” You would definitely send highlights of your own battles. 

“No.” Aretas understands how lethal you are when given signals. “My mother doesn't choose amateurs.” 

“What's on your mind?” You gestured near your temple. 

You. Armando thinks. 

******

Within months of the large-scale assassination taking place, news changes everything: 

By some unexpected chance, Detective Mike Lowrey survived! 

“How'd it go?” Briefly staying in Mexico this time, you whispered to Armando once Isabel chided this situation. Her son didn't follow the hit list in order. 

“Heading right back to Miami.” Armando wouldn't make eye contact with you as this team left the compound once more. 

Dammit! Square one. 

*****

Returning to the Miami Harbor, you set out this propped laptop while scrolling names from law enforcement databases and Armando watches. 

“Do it right. No more chances.” You warned him, reasonably irritable now. 

“Be careful…” Armando walked behind you and his sleeved arms over your space. 

“Am I wrong?” Even as you speak, his calloused palms gently smooth your knuckles. 

“Never.” Armando whispered through ongoing trust and welcomed distance to let you work. 

_______

The second time around, every single pierced bullet moved  closer and closer toward gaining true revenge. 

Even Miami Police Department Captain Conrad Howard stood responsible for locking down Armando's late father, Benito Aretas years back. 

When Captain fell this time, Armando really showed out. 

“Cheers.” Aretas clinked glasses with you, still fair enough to dodge taking out Mike Lowrey near innocent civilians. 

“Now what?” You've set your own drink down tonight. 

“Home stretch.” Armando clipped that response once more. 

“All right.” You lifted the glass of champagne and handed this beverage to Armando before walking away, turning off music. 

Your faint lipstick smudged this glass, catching Armando's interest. 

Updating one private list set on his phone, Aretas counted another trait of yours: 

You've rarely worn makeup, unlike his mother Isabel. 

____

The following day, you woke to see text messages lighting up your phone: 

Armando: Meet me in ten minutes! ⏰️ 🛩 

Given no other choice right now, you scrambled out of bed without hesitation and didn't even try fixing covers, hopping the shower. 

Something went wrong. 

****

“What the hell happened?!” You run back into the Mexico City compound and find Armando pacing by this mirror. 

“Would you lie to me?” Furrowing his brow, Aretas rasped the important question to you. 

“No.” Vowing once more, you would pull every trigger at the first chance. “What's going on?” 

Vulnerable for the first time, Armando reached out and you nodded as his dangerous fingers somehow warmed your arms. 

“He's out for blood.” Armando revealed Detective Lowrey's plan to kill him. “If anything happens to me, run.” 

“I'll never step without you. What about our loyalty?” You recalled the earlier promise. 

By that very moment, Armando nearly turned speechless. 

“C'mon.” Taking your hand in private, Aretas led you out of this room, ready for war. 

******

As you battle near Armando through your own defense, this big-time compound standoff erupted with the Miami Police Department AMMO squad. 

“Armando, you're my son.” Detective Mike Lowrey stood among fire and rubble as his words revealed near embers. 

What?! Absolutely not. Your own thoughts panicked. There's no way in hell that Lowrey is telling the truth. 

Isabel would've lied about everything. 

“Shut up.” You offer venom too, staying just as enraged with Armando in bewilderment. 

“I didn't know about him. If I had known…” Lowrey still makes an attempt while looking at you.

Armando then uses force to kick Mike backwards and destroys even more of this space. 

Every other second, his fists pulled more and more strength, but the main question lingered. 

“Who are you?” Aretas still injured Lowrey without fail and brought out the detective's weakness. 

“Ask your mother…” Mike continued responding even when Armando pulled his collar. 

Isabel Aretas emerged while dampened from outdoor rain. 

“¿Es cierto lo que dice?” Speaking his native language of Spanish, Armando asked Isabel if Mike really told the truth. 

"No importa. Él no significa nada para ti.” Isabel refused to answer clearly and this response doesn't even matter. 

“Hey, do ya'll see this fuego? Can we take this shit outside?” Detective Marcus Burnett is scared of the fire and damage engulfing all corners. 

“Cállate!” Armando shuts Burnett down once more, yet faces Isabel with sadness. “¿Quién es, mamá?”

“Tell ‘em!” Mike nearly shouts to Isabel despite everything. 

“Es mi papá?” Armando's heart continues to break. 

“Is he my father?!” Reaching this final resort about Mike Lowrey, Armando Aretas yelled to his mother in English. 

“Yes.” Isabel confirms the truth to Armando at last. No doubt whatsoever. “Kill him…”

Just when Mike and Armando stand while facing each other, Isabel clicks the barrel of her own gun directly behind your head. 

“No…”Armando realizes what is happening with you and more grief snatches air right from his lungs. “You took so much away from me. Don't pull the trigger.”

Ignoring her son, Isabel wanted to kill you here, but Lieutenant Rita Secada stepped up and locked immediate bullets to end Aretas.  

When you grab Armando's hand once more, the AMMO  squad hurries to escape tragedy and this outright mansion collapses forever. 

******

“How you doing?” Following the death of Isabel Aretas, Detective Mike Lowrey stepped forward to check on his estranged son, Armando, in prison. 

“I've paid my debt. It's a big one.” Armando tells the truth, sighing in this orange uniform. 

“An opportunity might help cut down some of your debt.” Mike continued. “Interested?” 

“Yeah, man.” Armando nodded toward his biological father, prepared. 

“And don't think I forgot…” Mike lifted his brow and stepped back to reveal your presence. 

“Hi.” You smiled toward Armando while standing in this darkened space. 

“Hey.” Armando greets you with his slightly accented English once more

“Uh-oh! Are you blushing over her?” Mike chuckled near Aretas. 

“No.” Aretas fibs and pulls himself together  knowing that visitation will run out. 

“Yeah, right. You're sprung as hell, but I'll see you soon.” Mike started to walk away, but still noticed when Armando winked toward you from his spot. 

He's just like me. Lowrey confirmed one final time. 

Who knows what the future brings? 

[artsninspo]

Hmm, here is context to the smut XD

So basically Jamie thinks she has cheated on him while he was away in jail. Cause his friends have seen her around where he lives a lot but that was to just visit stef and Aron. So when he got out he has this really dark look jealousy/possessiveness and y/n is just all clueless and innocent that he got out and kisses him like usual but he doesn’t believe her (he’s really angry and y/n is sad that he doesn’t believe her). she never cheated she is loyal to only him. And then the smut happens, they make up and it’s all cute at the end. And he is just really possessive all around, kinda angsty/smut. You can change some stuff if you like, according to your taste 😅😋

"YOU’RE MINE"

Authors Note: Working through the requests. Sorry for the wait Anon, hope it's what you wanted. Also, why are there more GIFS for Curtis than Jamie on here?

Pairing: Jamie (Topboy) x Reader

Wordcount: 2.3K

Warnings: Smut, Minors DNI

All the hearsay has been haunting him. The whispers from his fellow inmates and people outside his crew have been getting to him too. The only thing keeping Jamie from losing his mind is the news that his brothers are fine and that his release day is in a few hours. He’s spent too much time in this cell for a crime he never committed. He should be focused on business or revenge but he’s focused on you. He’d heard your name with too many other guys, and at parties without him. He wondered how the fuck could you be enjoying yourself so much while he was in a cage. He wanted to ask his boys but knew better, they’d never tell him the truth and add to his issues. Besides, things had been low key before he went to prison for your safety. Jamie was fine with keeping it that way then, but now, it was making him paranoid. After the violation that landed him in prison he was more and more suspicious of who to trust. Let his brothers tell it you’re an angel who’s been there in his absence. But when you and Jamie started sneaking around and there were whispers then too. The similarities only made him more suspicious of these. It’d take you five months to be convinced of your safety while being with him. Quiet as it’s kept Jamie found himself falling for you. The feeling was mutual. Jamie was different. He was intense and compassionate with a different attention to detail. A loving perfectionist is what lay under the hard exterior.

…

Looking at yourself in the mirror you smile. Everything is perfect to Jamie’s liking.  You have his gifts ready, his favourite food and anything else he’ll need. A knock at the door draws you out. You smile seeing him relief washes over you as you lose yourself in the moment. Your eyes close at the scent of him. His arms are where you feel most safe. The moment lasts long but not long enough before he pulls away.

“Welcome home babe” you smile tiptoeing for a kiss but Jamie steps back.

“If I’m babe what’s this I hear about you and wastemen?” He asks, spinning your head.

“Jamie, have you lost the plot?” you ask trying to kiss him again.

“Nah, we were sneaky links. You got a next man too?” He asks and tears threaten to sting your eyes. You were beautiful to him, standing there with your hair in a messy updo and in a short pale pink negligee. He wanted you right there but the thought of another man even seeing you like this strokes his temper.

“A next man?” You repeat. “Are you accusing me of something?” you ask.

“Listen, I like you a lot but if you’re seeing other people let me know so I can pattern my moves” he sighs being the cold and calculated Jamie reserved for acquaintances.

“Pattern your moves?” You ask as he makes himself at home on the couch. He smiles seeing the gravity bong waiting for him along with other comforts. Candy for the munchies, his favourite crisps, liquor and strains of weed. “I’m not!” you shout.

“Watch your tone, yeah?” He grits. “Guys say you’ve been round the ends” he says twisting the grinder. What a prick. You find yourself thinking as he sits like a king questioning your virtue when you've been loyal.

“To look out for your brothers you idiot!” You shout. “To sleep in your room and to wear your hoodies because I missed you and your clothes smell like your cologne. To make sure the house was clean and they were getting along!” You shout. 

“Are you done shouting?” He asks, being cruel and detached.

“You keep sitting there being smug and this is only the beginning of my shouting!” You threaten and Jamie stands.

“Lower your tone,” he demands, looking down at you. 

“Why are you being like this?” You ask as a tear falls Jamie catches it before you can.

“Don’t cry, we said we’d be honest I’m being honest” he explains and you try to shove him back but he’s too strong.

“I’ve been waiting for you and this is what you do?” You cry. “Not everyone is betraying you Jamie.” You feel overwhelmed and betrayed.

“I'm sorry” He apologises, wiping your eyes again. He holds your face in his hands and your eyes well again. “I’m sorry I got it wrong luv”, he continues hating to see you cry.

“Don’t ‘luv’ me” you snap, swatting him away. 

“I don’t want any more uncertainty when it comes to us.”

“There is no us you asshole” you snap freeing your face from him. You start cleaning up the goodies on the table. The weed snacks the contraception. You’re angry enough to poke a hole in every condom to ensure you’re not drawn back in. 

It’s like Jamie reads your mind and snatches them first. His eyes are glued to your ass peeking out from the short night dress, sending heath through his body.

“I’m sorry Y/N, I didn’t mean to make you cry or upset. It’s just I hear bare chat about you and it eats away at me. Thinking about the next man piping my girl. A next man stepping in when I can’t. The next man in here getting the treatment you give me. Then I’m blaming myself for not making things official, then I’m thinking I did the right thing because it was dodgy for a minute. I could’ve done serious time, can’t expect you to wait” he sighs sitting down on the couch. He looks stressed, conflicted and angry. He’s trying his best not to be possessive and protective but it’s in his nature. If the feelings were not real he would’ve undressed you already. Piped you and left but he’d always wanted you, he’d always liked you more than that.

You sit beside him.

“You should know already that I only accept the best Jamie. None of those guys with big mouths are better than you. What happened was a dirty play and I don’t hold it against you. I never slept with anyone while you were away.” You confess and his eyes close in relief. He opens his arms for you to sit on his lap but you straddle him instead. It takes him by surprise and you trace kisses up his neck and to his jawline as he adjusts you in his lap. It’s twisted but you love it when he’s vulnerable. “I missed you so much” you tell him finally at his lips. His lips find yours first. Body to body you can feel the heavy breathing. His muscles contract as he pulls you closer. The passion and desire in his dominant kiss. You find yourself lost in it as heat creeps between your legs at the sensation of him growing under you. His kiss is marking his territory and claiming you. His intensity is new and his hands slide in your néglige to feel you.

“You’re mine” He says, breaking the kiss. You look at him and see it’s more than sex talk. He’s heavy lidded and holding back. He knows he can make you say anything when he’s inside you.

“Am I?” You smile and he nods.

“I’m serious, I’m the only one that gets you like this.” He furthers and you grind slowly to peel away at his restraint.

“I’m a needy girlfriend and you’re a busy man. Are you going to be here?” You ask and his head goes back as he holds your hips. The friction is torturous. Jamie’s always made you feel free and safe to be as lustful as you want.

“I’m here aren’t I?” He asks in a register lower than normal. “Aren’t I always when you need me?” He asks almost entranced by you as he removes the silk night dress. He admires your body, his hand resting on your hip against your lace panties. “You’re beautiful” he smiles and you get his shirt off. He kisses each breast before kissing you hard.

Jamie knows he won’t last long after his stint in jail so his priority is getting you off first. He takes the lead standing and bringing you to the bedroom. Getting between your legs removes the lace underwear before kissing you intimately. Using his tongue and fingers in tandem to send you into a frenzy making you see stars. There’s no keeping your moans back as the sensation reaches a fever pitch. 

“Jamie” your tone is clipped.

“Come for me” He says, giving you goosebumps. His fingers go deeper and he sucks harder. 

“Bab-“ you can’t manage it and your eyes close as he holds your hand with his free one.

“There you go” He whispers as the first rush hits. He comes up to kiss you  as the rush of an orgasm subsides. When your vision clears he’s putting on a condom. Foreplay usually lasts longer but you have no complaints.

“I missed you so much” you whisper and you share another kiss. He rests his forehead against yours as he slides in. No toy compares to the real thing, not when it’s Jamie. His eyes watch your face contort. The pleasure is evident, you feel incredible and it’s not long before he’s struggling to last. He’s wanted to show you you’re his but his body was making it clear he’s just as much yours.

“I missed you too, missed my babygirl” he whispers, thrusting hard and slow. Your moans grow, it’s too much.

“Jamie” you call and he lowers.

“I’m right here” he kisses your shoulder. His thrusts falter and you know he’s close. Your eyes open at the same moment. You’re in sync. You feel it together, his lips find yours again. Your arms hold on as the orgasm goes through him. His breaths are as shallow as yours. He pulls out rolling onto his side. You follow suit to get closer. The silence is comfortable and you draw close until you’re skin to skin again. Jamie kisses your forehead.

“I apologise for how I treated you earlier, I just care for you and being in a cell with no control… I shouldn’t have taken it out on you” Jamie’s words make you love him even more.

“Jamie, I haven't been with anyone since we started speaking. I care for you and nobody cares for me like you do. It’s why I was always over at yours to help out. I know how much you love your brothers and I wanted to be a friend. I was with Kit sometimes but it wasn’t like that. Then I was with Si a few times when Kit was busy - they took turns making sure I got out the ends safe. I went out with them once or twice but nothing happened, I was sad and they wanted me to try and have some fun. They were looking out with for out of respect for you. The only other “man” I was with was Aaron. I got him a job. He was opening the doors for me and treating me how you would want him too. No one moved on me.” You explain calmly. Jamie had a sixth sense for bullshit and he could only see the truth in your eyes.

“There was another man,” he says calmly. “Other than Kit, Aaron and Si” he says from piecing together the descriptions.

“My brother, he’s back from business in Dubai. He helped me get the job for Aaron” you explain and he adjusts sliding back into you. It’s unexpected and it feels so good.

“Well I'm back now, so all you need to see is me” he says possessively. “The guys Aaron and your brother can piss off. You’re mine”. He says ready to go, you smile knowing the next few rounds will be rough how you like it and he’s going to last all night. Claiming you in every way possible. Yes he’s a little possessive but you love him for it. You love it when he’s overcome, when he applies pressure on your neck kissing you as he goes deep. You love it when he asks who you belong to. Love when he deprives you of his manhood pulling out so you can give him head. You love looking up at him while he watches you with pride. Seeing the need to please him in your eyes and praising you for it. You love how he can go for hours. You love how he checks in periodically to make sure you’re alright. How tender kisses are peppered in with the rushed ones. When the tender touches replace the demanding ones. The look on his face when you’ve run him dry. The aftercare he provides. You can see the love in his eyes for words that aren’t likely. You love how he keeps you close all night. His soft snores and the rare look of relaxation he has when he’s asleep.

You don’t say the words, neither does Jamie. Nor does he lay claim to things he doesn’t love. Possession and love aren’t the same thing in your world but maybe in his they are.

“I love you Y/N” He mumbles almost reading your mind as he pulls you closer in the big spoon. Having woken up sometime during your reverie of your last few rounds.

“I love you too” you respond and he chuckles.

“I know babe” he says and you turn your head back to kiss him. He meets you halfway pecking you and kissing your jaw twice. “Go to sleep” He chuckles.

“Shut up” You smile.

“Your heart’s racing” He says. You realise where his hand is, over your heart.

“It’s yours” you smile.

__________

Don't forget to let me know how you feel about this one or the new season.

Like comment reblog 💕

[heiayen]

two witches walk into a prison cell... - lyney&gn!reader

summary: after a series of unfortunate accidents, including you and lyney, you get accused of... being witches and thrown into jail. there has to be a way of getting out, right?

tags: can be read both as romantic and platonic for the relationship between [name] and lyney, depending on how you choose to read this! it's crack, comedy, whatever you want. unspecified medieval au? headcanons, not proof read. there is a mention

notes: passes out. im still on a tumblr break but hello!! this is my entry for @ecrin-de-litterature prison escape event yippeee sorry lyney for throwing you into jail... happens. this is so silly save me

How… unfortunate. The townspeople have decided, with pitchforks and burning torches, rocks breaking the windows– you and Lyney, your dearest companion of years, are… witches. Dabbling in witchcraft, causing mischief and apparently hurting chickens that your very grumpy neighbor raises in her garden. You wouldn’t even get near her fence, let alone her godsdamn chickens! And while… the chickens were in fact getting sick more often than supposed, you were sure it was because of your neighbor’s poor animal raising skills, not because of whatever you and Lyney did.

You were a role citizen, one could say. Never caused too many problems for the royal guards and other folk living here, you had a nice, little shop with medical herbs, all hand-picked with the utmost care, always the best quality– because who would you be, if you didn’t care about selling your clients only the best goods? Lyney, on the other hand, was the town’s bard, often performing on the streets with his dear sister and he was quite good at it, you had to admit. Charming people with his performances and charisma, all the girls in town swooning over him… Sometimes you wondered if it was only a matter of time until the king himself took interest in Lyney’s and his sister’s shows. Or until something else happened…

That something happened now. The elders of the town decided that everything bad happening to the town was your fault and that you deserved to be burne– oh, well, arrested. Locked in a cell, awaiting what next people would decide with your hands tied. Metaphorically and literally sadly, because the folks believed you’d pose a danger with your hands free. In a way they were right, you really wanted to punch that guard standing next to the cell–

Right. That guard was guarding you and Lyney all the time. As much as you… well, understood that prisoners should be guarded to not escape, especially those accused of witchcraft, it still pissed you off greatly. You really wished you could throw a rat at him or something. Maybe a bucket of stinky water, the one you used to clean the floors with. You had many ideas of potential revenge but alas, you couldn’t do anything.

Or so you thought. Lyney didn’t share your pessimist thinking (and neither the many revenge plots you shared with him) and soon, the man got into the action of freeing you from this terrible, cold, and smelly cell. He called the guard and you only looked at him with raised eyebrows. In no way the guard would let you out! He surely had a family to raise and feed and the guardian pay was small already, how would he manage if it was cut for letting the prisoners go? 

It turned out that Lyney… had a plan. A plan you thought wouldn’t succeed because, oh, surely that guard was smarter than that! And yet how wrong you were. When the guard entered the cell, the key to it hanging from his belt on his hip, you threw away your pride for a moment and simply begged the guard to let you two go. Lyney had a sister and a brother after all, and to deprive them of a loving, older brother over some dumb rumors would… truly be tragic. A heartbreaking tale of a family broken down by a vengeful crowd, over things they didn’t even commit. And if he couldn’t let both of you go, then he should at least let Lyney go. He deserved that, to meet with his siblings for the last time until he would be forced to run away.

And so go on. You pulled out your best pleading eyes, even tears– all while Lyney was working from behind. You almost broke your act seeing him untie his hands, as if he couldn’t do so already! You would cover him, he would untie his hands and yours too and… well, while it wouldn’t help you run away, it surely would make the planning more comfortable! But with his hands free, Lyney quietly, stealthy, behind that guard’s back, took the hanging keys from his belt. For his luck, the keys were more on guard’s back than his front, because in no way he would succeed otherwise…

But that left another problem, didn’t it? Although Lyney had the key, the guard was still here, throwing literal daggers with his gaze at you, completely unmoved by your pleading. You needed him out of the room. Or maybe not, you needed him locked in here for ages, so that he could atone for his mistakes of locking you here– Well. Grand revenge could wait.

Suddenly, in the middle of your pleading, you widened your eyes and looked somewhere behind him, gasped as if you saw your ancestor’s ghosts and yelled. That provided enough distraction for the guard to turn around, scared what was that you saw only to be greet with a smiling and waving Lyney… and a hard kick into the back of his knee, of course by yours truly. He hit the floor and before he could ever get up from it, you and Lyney already stood outside the now locked again cell, you smiling brightly at the annoyed guard. And before he could really realize what happened, you two already started running away.

Running away from other guards was a surprisingly easy task, simply having to hide and quietly walk right under their noses– which with Lyney leading wasn’t hard and… oh, you two were out of jail! Finally breathing the fresh air, seeing the beautiful sky after exactly one day of being jailed, it all caused warmth to bloom in your chest. You were happy and free.

…for now at least because you and Lyney knew that the townsfolk would not leave it like that. Frankly, you really didn’t want to see pitchforks outside your house again, no. But, oh well, it was bound to happen again and it really was a matter of time.

Well. What happened has happened, and there was no turning time back and now you, Lyney and, by extension, his siblings, had to create a plan of dealing with the entire village wanting to hunt you down. But that was a different story…

(And a different story was the fact that the village was, in fact, right about you and Lyney but… oh! A little bit of witchcraft never hurt anyone! Okay, maybe these herbs you gave your lovely chicken-raising neighbor were meant to give her the worst headaches known to mankind for whole three days because she pissed you off so badly, but… she was a special case. And this was the only thing you ever did to her despite having many urges to show her real powers of witchcraft! You’d never hurt poor chickens. You really had to get back at her one day…) 

[doorsclosingslowly]

thinking out loud about a bit of the Éowyn's Got a Band AU, which is mostly a series of éomer/gríma bdsm pwps with was too much background and plot. anyway. here be spoilers about backstory and central arc

@darol tagging you bc you've always listened to my au gríma rambles but no need to read if you don't wanna, love you

gríma wanted everything--- especially, money, rock star fame, adoration, love, once upon a time when he was younger and started hooking up with recent widower & current rising star théoden and then finagled his way into becoming théoden's band's manager, and then once another tragedy struck théoden and he adopted his teenage nephew and niece too, living fulltime either with théoden and the kids on the road (théodred is in the band but only a little older than éomer so gríma is asked to watch him too sometimes), or staying behind with éowyn and éomer in théoden's house for all intents and purposes the stepmom (as is my perpetual agenda, wicked stepmother gríma) except he's only the band manager. théoden never opens up about the relationship to anyone. [*] gríma encourages this because he thinks that it will gain him more leverage that he can use to make théoden launch gríma's music career.

which never happens. gríma's growing resentment towards théoden--- and during the course of trying to make the man beholden to him, gríma's home his money his life it all depends on théoden--- well, gríma used drugs casually while he was cruising before he met théoden but now he finds the White Wizard and gets *hooked*. and then gríma gets théodred hooked.

revenge, another scheme, something else--- even in the court room this never gets settled. and it ends in court, because théodred overdoses. gríma, who supplied the White Wizard, goes to jail for a long time. no one visits. why would they? they were all théoden's family and friends or théoden himself who dies of the grief.

fast forward! end backstory! we are now in the time of the pwp series. yadda yadda, gríma left prison more fucked up than he entered it and never found his sea legs, and it's winter now and cold and he found a flyer for éowyn's new band and goes in order to beg for money for a room for maybe a week it's so cold, éomer finds him first and that old attraction rears its head and so does éomer yearning the loss of all his family (éomer is in the course of trying to reconcile with his sister after another massive fight) and so he offers gríma his own spare room and sleeper sofa.

yadda yadda more parts i will write longform of éomer and or gríma working thru many issues through such media as cbd, 24/7 puppy play, watersports, control and trust and pain, etc etc

the flatshare works, though it's not balanced (insert parallels to gríma's relationship with théoden here) and gríma's severely depressed and éomer is lying to his therapist and famiy and friends but eh, swings and roundabouts.

éowyn visits. she sees: gríma, killer of her family, sleeping on the sofa, and calls the police. back to the holding cell for gríma.

éomer would not have admitted any of this under his own choice. but unlike théoden then, he's not a rock star with a family, he's a lonely man in a job he doesn't care much about bc it's not music but he couldn't follow in théoden's shoes, with a girlfriend he was never honest about in terms of his desirs and that he's been cheating on for months, and so he goes down to the station and blows up his old life and says: he was allowed on that sofa. he's my boyfriend. he's mine.

gríma's always committed all of himself to another. this time he's claimed back.

____

[*] éomer knows which is how the audience knows bc most of the series so far is planned in his pov. he knows bc he's 16 and fantasizing about punishing the git that his uncle's left him with, that mocking asshole who makes him do all his homework and latin too (while gríma doesn't even listen to éomer's presentations that he forced but does band manager stuff at the same time. prick.) éomer fantasizes about pushing the band manager slash nanny around and hurting him and he's very into it and then horrified, repeat, as he fails to come to terms with sexual sadism. and because he--- does not, and won't for a long time, conceive of that as a crush, he spies on gríma and finds out that théoden is fucking him. cue more guilt. all this is also why he never told éowyn that they were an item.

[buginateacup]

MASSIVE SPOILERS FOR TEA WITH TOPSY AHEAD!!!!

I had a shower ramble about the past, present and future of all the little satellite plots Topsy has swirling around to try and work out who and what and why is happening next

Hokay so!

In the beginning there were random fires cropping up around Metro City. This was because the Mayor had been paying someone to pay kids and randoms in firecrackers to set fire to hedges and post boxes in the hopes of driving down property prices. This was because he had hatched a plan with his old frat buddy Charles Mclaren and his company Dexcore to buy up dodgy properties and convert them into gentrified homes for young professionals (working class who? never heard of them). He has plans for this city, big plans.

One day way back in chapter 4 (ish?), Metro Man hurled some bombs Megamind had planted around the city into the lake. This knocked loose some of the plastic wrapped cubes Megamind held down there for people he waanted permanently out of the way but didn't want to directly kill for whatever reason (mostly for punishment reasons, also probably an alien thing, bones of your enemies laid in the deep etc etc).

One of those cubes was The Conductor.

The Conductor, thanks to several years as a cube, had some funky shit happning with his powers now and teamed up with the Mayor while he was still half out of it. The Mayor now has a pocket pyro for his gentrification plan and The Conductor is figuring out his brand new fire powers hile imagining Megamind burning under his hands. Y'know, normal response.

The Mayor is surprisingly fine with this.

That's because the Mayor's plans also extend to getting some of that sweet, sweet Defender's Council money that the MetroMegaRox combination has locked him out of. Naturally he considers Roxanne the thin edge of the wedge, if they can just get rid of her, Metro City can have a brand new Defender's Council Approved Damsel, complete with sponsorship deals and merchandise. If the Coductor manages to knock off Megamind as well, even better! A supervillain in his pocket and a new damsel on the ropes and surely at that point Metro Man will agree to some of the Defender's Council merchandising deals.

The Mayor spends a lot of time dreaming in dollar signs.

So plan one, blow Megamind and Roxanne up, that doesn't go as planned, oh well, onto the next one. Calling up another of his old frat buddies in the form of Jonathan Chisolm. Max gets promoted and here's the new boss, much worse than the old boss.

Jonathan has one job, find a reason to fire Roxanne Ritchi (he's probably also getting property tips).

Unfortunately for him, Roxanne is EXCEEDINGLY good at her job, and thanks to her status as an unofficial damsel, he can't really rely on uprofessional behaviour as an excuse.

Roxanne gets Charles McLaren arrested. She's also mid panic attack over realisng her feelings for Megamind so this takes something of a back seat.

A short while later she gets Delic arrested as well.

Delic and Mclaren wind up in the same cellblock. Mclaren thinks he's found a friend. Delic knows he's found a meal ticket. (Delic is also very carefully considering his next move seeing as Megamind can't actually touch him while he's in jail, he's being very smug about that).

While Delic and Mclaren are being cell block buddies, The Conductor is also starting to make a plan of his own. He's not interested in gentrification or money, he just wants to make sure Megamind and he has ever built or cared for burns to ash. And it turns out all those dexcore buildings burn so easily, and there are so many of them in the city, what a wonderful opportunity this will be.

Mayor Hank doesn't quite know when he stopped being in charge but he's definitely no longer the boss he thought he was. He does get Delic out of prison (always handy to have an extra villain also keen on destroying your enemies) and sets him and the Conductor up in the fanciest penthouse suite the city has on offer.

Delic wants revenge, sure. But he's way more interested in riding this gravy train for as long as he can. Apparently old Chuckie is in rehab, ah well, he can sit tight until his buddy old pal reappears and they can start having themseslves a REAL good time.

The Mayor however, is starting to get really mad that not only is Roxanne Ritchi not fired, she's making him look like an idiot as well. He's got a damsel right there and waiting! Why can't she just disappear already?!

**FUTURE SPOILERS FROM HERE**

The Opera is the last straw. If Jonathan isn't going to fix things, he'll do it himself. The Conductor gets an address for one Roxanne Ritchi and a direct order to burn her place to the ground.

The Conductor does not take well to being told what to do. He takes quite significant offence in fact and burns down one of Roxanne's coworker's building instead.

This does get Roxanne out of her building and into the Lair for 10 days. Megamind is QUITE delighted!

Shortly after, so is the Mayor, he may not have a new damsel, but Metro Man just offered to buy the destroyed building at pre fire value! This is brilliant! He's going to tell the Conductor the good news immediately, oh they are going to make so much money...

The Conductor is not impressed by this.

Delic takes the opportunity to avoid mummy and daddy fighting to sneak downstairs and finds where Charles has been hiding.

Or at least what's left of him.

Delic has some THOUGHTS about this.

To be continued tomorrow....

[watchingyoufromthestars]

Taking an essay break, time to ramble a bit about dndads tma au ideas. I am not immune to putting the s2 teens into the plot of another fave media.

Starting off with the last post, Hermie was Spiral-bound but taken by the Stranger. Scam is the Spiral metaphorically only for the parallel of Hermie wanting to prove himself to his father by pulling off the ultimate scam, which here would be him attempting to merge with the Distortion, but before getting to Sannikov Land to complete the Spiral's ritual, he was taken by the Stranger. I’m thinking he was possibly marked by the Lonely at an early age and almost followed the path to serve that fear but found more appeal in the lies and deceit of the Spiral. And now he’s of neither lol.

Taylor would follow the path of Tim, with Hermie being his Danny, but Danny is also Sasha in the way we meet him before his time runs out. Basically Hermie has something of a role before he gets poofed instead of only ever mentioned like Danny since he’s already gone long before mag1.

I think Link would become an Avatar of the End. I’m not sure why or how this is just a gut reaction idea with no thought. No idea where he’d fit in with the archive crew, I don’t see him as a Sasha since that’s already taken by Hermie. Idk the AU plot is still plotting.

Scary is the Eye’s Special Little Girl. Marked by the Web and Willy is the Jonah to her Jon. no further notes, she’s the main character.

WHICH MEANS I WORMED MY WAY INTO A NORMSCARY AU MWAHAHA because Normal is so Lonely-coded. There’s also something to be said about the Corruption and how it can manifest as unhealthy love and companionship but maybe I’ll save that for Lark and Sparrow and turn their codependency up to 11. I just want to make everyone fun little monsters.

I don’t know if he’d play into the story at all but I put thought into Glenn. He might just be a statement only character. He’s absolutely been marked by the Buried; whether or not he gave in to that terror is a different story. Glenn may not have the s1 dads to lean on; may not even know them. As much as Freddie will avoid giving his characters big moments of weakness unless forced upon him (/lh), you think he wasn’t freaking the fuck out in the confinements of jail even a little bit? And then when he gets put in another cell in Heaven – and way smaller this time – there wasn’t even a little bit of panic? That he’d be trapped for another 18 years?

There were probably a few other fears at play because mag185 is so Glenn coded and the girl throwing rocks at Tina is Narcolas. If Glenn became an Avatar he might serve the Desolation based on his ‘path of revenge’ near the end of s1 and his duel with Terry Jr. in Hell – and maybe the Desolation also marked him before the Buried with all the loss in his life – but I don’t see him actually becoming an Avatar.

And I could see Terry Jr. as a Gerry equivalent but only in the way that he’s dead, stuck in a book, and used for a huge lore drop about the Fear Entities (mag111). And also in the way that he’s super goth.

[demetriandelibinaryboyfriends]

YOOOO BACK FOR MORE LONG REBLOGS HELL YEAH

"He'd help him clean, of course, then suggest hiding out in the computer lab for some Dungeon Lord and snacks." This is so oddly wholesome??? And surprisingly practical??? The best of Old Eli tbh. Cares about his friends, but doesn't impulsively dig them all into deep shit XD

"seeing as he'd probably get detention for a week after beating the shit out of the perpetrator." Ngl I am enamored with the thought of Eli going completely unhinged and beating the crap out of Kyler for Demetri. We haven't seen nearly enough of Violently Protective Eli in canon!!! Like let him go apeshit defending his boyfriend after being a little shit to him for so long!!!

"Even so, he wasn't perfect, and he often turned out to have the worst mix of traits of both phases of his past." Oh 1000%. The best of both worlds and the worst of both worlds equally. There is no in between with this man.

"a subtle crooked smirk gracing his features." Demetri. Demetri of course you think about Eli in flowery poetic terms like this. Simp

I'm screaming at the fact that the spooky ski masks were apparently Demetri's idea. Or that he thought they would be any assistance whatsoever in being stealthy when Eli has the most conspicuous hair in the school. So smart and yet so incredibly stupid, god bless <3

ELI DYING HIS HAIR PINK AJASHAKUDYBHSU WELL THAT'S ONE WAY TO COME OUT, YOU GO KING

" "Eggs aren't even dairy, they're a protein!" " He's right tho D: Although Demetri obnoxiously correcting Eli on something and then immediately saying "permeable" instead of "permanent" is very on-brand. Demetri thinks he is the full-time carrier of their shared brain cell, but he very much is. Not

" "What, like a carton of chocolate milk on your chemistry binder?" Eli countered, his hand moving to rest on Demetri's knee. "Look, I'm not gonna let this stuff go unpunished." " THE INTIMACY OF THE HAND ON THE KNEE AND THE ELABORATE REVENGE PLOT TO AVENGE YOUR BINDER I'm tearing up ;_____;

"This is illegal!!! This is vandalism!!!" Homeboy is dead convinced the cops are summoned by any criminal-sounding splats and will immediately materialize to sentence two teenagers to a lifetime in prison for...egging a guy's house. I love this paranoid mf so much, he's just like I was in high school fr fr. Like what do you mean, you can sometimes do delinquent shit and you aren't force-teleported into jail immediately??? HOW CAN IT BE??? I really thought the surveillance state hellworld we live in was like...10 times worse than it actually is lmao

" "Yeah, well, Kyler's never gonna suspect us. He's made a lot of enemies. The dude probably cleans toilet paper out of his trees, like, three times a week." " AJSHKUYDG he's not wrong tho??? Pretty sure the only person who HASN'T gotten to beat up Kyler for being a little shit is Sam XD And they really took away the boy-girl tournament fights to deprive me of that, they really launched an attack against me personally--

"Oh, how Demetri missed when his mischievous smile meant a heist into the cookie jar rather than vandalism." HAHAHAHA Although I love that Eli always had a bit of a troublemaking streak XD Now I'm imagining Eli spearheading all the cookie raids when they were little, and it's kind of adorable. Hence why Demetri was Not Surprised, Just Annoyed when Eli suddenly dialed it up to 11 like "YEAH!!! LET'S BUY ALCOHOL WITH A FAKE ID!!! LET'S KIDNAP A GIRL AND TATTOO 'BITCH' ON HER FACE!!! I GOT CHASED BY A RAPID DOG AND I'VE NEVER FELT SO ALIVE!!!"

" "Fine," Demetri conceded. "But at the tiniest noise, I'm bolting, and you're coming with me." " Demetri refusing to leave Eli behind in his own cowardice is both hilarious and wholesome. "If I'm gonna wimp out, then by god, so are you!!! You are NOT facing repercussions for our tomfoolery alone!!!" Very on-brand for him, too--he's always been about as ride or die for Eli as you can get ;____;

" "I'd expect nothing less from you, scaredy-cat," Eli replied smugly, to which Demetri felt his heart skip in his chest in a way he knew had nothing to do with the crime he was about to commit." Of course Eli uses "scaredy-cat" as a pet name. Of course he does. Demetri is scaredy. And he is also a human cat. Not him getting flustered because he's lowkey catching onto the fact that Eli is calling him flirty pet names--

" "Shall you take the first egg, my liege?" Eli offered forward the carton in his stupid impression of Knight Phillip from Dungeon Lord." STOP STOP STOP THIS IS THE CUTEST SHIT Of course Eli finds a way to be nerdy about petty misdemeanors, I love that for him ajldsiuhykdlefh

I'm going to go through and leave rambly reblogs on all of these, my dear, I'm sorry I took so long 💜

Tis I, the "hell yeah" Anon! If you're still taking prompts, could I get "Following the rules is boring" for binary boyfriends?

Always enjoy your ficlets so much <3

hell yeah, "hell yeah" anon ! here's a 500 word drabble for you involving dairy (of sorts). enjoy ! <3

If one were to ask Demetri how Eli would react to seeing him with a school binder soaked with milk, Demetri would probably tell them he'd do nothing. He'd help him clean, of course, then suggest hiding out in the computer lab for some Dungeon Lord and snacks.

Well, that was old Eli. And Hawk, well; Hawk was even worse, seeing as he'd probably get detention for a week after beating the shit out of the perpetrator.

And then there was Eli 2.0, who had Hawk's danger streak with Eli's ability to stand down. Even so, he wasn't perfect, and he often turned out to have the worst mix of traits of both phases of his past.

"What's wrong with fighting dairy with dairy?" Eli asked, gently tossing an egg in his hand, a subtle crooked smirk gracing his features.

They were hiding behind Kyler's car, both wearing some ski masks that Eli apparently thought were 'ridiculous'--as if his bright (now pink) mohawk was not only the only one in the school as well as his own distinguishable trademark.

"Eggs aren't even dairy, they're a protein!" Demetri argued in a whisper. "Besides, this could cause, like, permeant damage--"

"What, like a carton of chocolate milk on your chemistry binder?" Eli countered, his hand moving to rest on Demetri's knee. "Look, I'm not gonna let this stuff go unpunished. I want him cleaning as much as we were. No fighting, as promised."

"But," Demetri's face flushed, glancing down at Eli's hand on his knee. "This is illegal. You know, vandalism?"

"Yeah, well, Kyler's never gonna suspect us. He's made a lot of enemies. The dude probably cleans toilet paper out of his trees, like, three times a week. Besides, a little rule-breaking's gotta be healthy every once and a while, following the rules all the time is boring." Eli insisted with a wink, his grin mischievous.

Oh, how Demetri missed when his mischievous smile meant a heist into the cookie jar rather than vandalism.

But even so, he had to admit that it was kind of exciting, egging the house of a guy that had caused him so much grief over the years. Just imagining the look on his face when he found the mess was golden.

"Fine," Demetri conceded. "But at the tiniest noise, I'm bolting, and you're coming with me."

"I'd expect nothing less from you, scaredy-cat," Eli replied smugly, to which Demetri felt his heart skip in his chest in a way he knew had nothing to do with the crime he was about to commit. "Shall you take the first egg, my liege?" Eli offered forward the carton in his stupid impression of Knight Phillip from Dungeon Lord.

Demetri grasped the egg in his hand, the surface cold and smooth. He remembered the two hours he'd spent cleaning and rewriting all his chemistry notes; the bastard had this coming, and so much more.

He threw the egg, and the splatting sound it made against the bricks was more music to his ears than any experience points in Dungeon Lord.

[stockholmdolly]

EASY PREY (BEWARE OF THE LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD)

Summary: Imagine a helpless, pregnant girl who's just been yanked from the serenity of her home and shoved into a dirty van. Kidnapped. Alone. Terrified.

Now forget her ...

Picture instead a pregnant girl, manipulative prodigy. She is shoved into a dirty van and, from the first moment of her kidnapping, feels a calm desire for two things: to save her unborn son and to exact merciless revenge.

She is methodical, calculating, scientific in her plotting. A clinical sociopath? Leaving nothing to chance, secure in her timing and practice, she waits for the perfect moment to strike. This is what happens when the victim is just as cold as the captors.

The agents trying to find a kidnapped girl have their own frustrations and desires wrapped into this chilling drama. In the twists of intersecting stories, one is left to ponder. Who is the victim? Who is the aggressor?

Pairings: dark!Steve rogers x soft!dark?reader; dark!Natasha Romanoff x soft!dark?reader; eventual bucky barnes x reader

Warnings: I’m not sure yet if I’m going to include non-con, but there’s gonna be violence, torture, curse words.

Word count: 2,821.

Author’s note: Hello fanfiction world, it is me! Stockholm Dolly. This is based on one of my fav books, I’m destroying it a bit but the main plot still stays. The reader isn’t dark per se just really intelligent and have a really great survival instinct, there’s not damsels in distress or victims in this blog. Also I love Frank Grillo, so, in this world Rumlow is going to be a good guy. I’m not following any timeline everyone’s alive, just most of them are monsters hahaha 

 CHAPTER 1/26

4-5 DAYS IN CAPTIVITY

I lay there on the fourth day plotting their death, revenge is all that floods my mind. Compiling assets in a list in my mind: a loose floor board, a red knit blanket, a high window, exposed beams, a keyhole, my condition…

I remember my thoughts then, there he is outside the door AGAIN, I think, even tho it’s been 17 years. Perhaps those days will forever be my present because I survived so completely. And, I must say now, with no lack of pride, my result, my undeniable victory, was no less than a masterpiece.

On day 4, I was gathering the assets and trying to fit them together…How I can make them useful for my escape? Over and over while searching for more assets. Ah, yes, of course, the bucket. And yes, yes, the box spring is new, he didn’t remove the plastic. As I keep assigning number to my asset list, I hear the cracking of the floor outside my jail cell (a bedroom). He’s definitely out there, then the keyhole turned, and he burst in without the decency of announce himself (I’m a prisoner after all, I don’t have the right), he dropped a tray on my bed of food, no utensils (not so stupid)

-     More water? He asked, in his abrupt, dull and deep, monotone.

-     Yes, please

He was clever, but everyone has a weak spot, we aren’t perfect as much as we mastered our tasks or “jobs”, he just didn’t have crossed paths with someone more dangerous than him. He had a pattern, I figured on day 3, always asking if I wanted more water. Then he leaves and locks the door.

I had decided from Hour 2 of Day 1 that I’d try to feign a schoolgirl politeness, be thankful, for I soon discovered I could outwit my captor, a man in his forties. Must be forty-something, he looks the same age as my dad. I knew I had the wits to beat this horrible, disgusting thing, and I was just twenty.

I had not yet grown bored by Day 4. Some might think sitting alone in a locked room would cause a mind to give way to dementia or delusion. Not me, I’m used to be alone, I like to be alone, call it a pandemic consequence, right? Hahaha

-     You don’t scream or cry or beg me like the others did,” he said, sounding like he’d grasped some epiphany he’d been struggling with for days.

I turned my head fast toward his voice, as though possessed, intending in my motion to un-nerve him. I’m not sure if I did, but I believe he shimmied backwards a fraction.

-     Would that make you feel better?” I asked.

-     Shut the fuck up, you crazy little bitch. I don’t give a shit what you fucking sluts do, he said loudly and fast, as though reminding himself of his position of control. From the high decibel of his agitation, I surmised we were alone, wherever we were. This can’t be good. He’s safe yelling here. We’re alone. Just the two of us.

My first visitor came on Day 3. Certainly medical, he had cold fingers. I labeled him “The Doctor.” My second visitor came on Day 4, accompanied by The Doctor, who announced, “She is doing well, considering.” In a hushed tone, the second visitor said, “So this is her?” I labeled her “Mrs. Obvious.”

When The Doctor and Mrs. Obvious left, The Doctor advised my jailer to keep me calm and to allow me tranquility. But nothing changed to afford me calm or tranquility until the end of Day 4 when I asked for Assets #14, 15, and 16.

With head to chest and in the most submissive, insipid voice I could tolerate, I said, “Excuse me. I can’t really sleep and I wonder…anyway, maybe if I watched TV, or listened to a radio, or read, or even drew, a pencil with some paper, would maybe…help?”

I braced myself for a brutal, verbal tirade and even physical violence for my insolence.

He stared me down, grunted, and left without acknowledging my request.

About forty-five minutes later, I heard the now familiar floorboards rattle. I figured he was back, as was the established routine, to collect my plate, mug, and cups. However, when he opened the door, resting on his wide chest, he carried an old nineteen-inch television, a yard-sale radio about twelve inches long, a pad of paper tucked under his left arm, and a rather long, plastic school-kid case. The case, pink with two horses on the side, was the kind you buy for the first day of school and lose in a week. I wondered if I was in a schoolhouse. Must be abandoned if I am.

“Don’t ask for any more shit,” he said, yanking my tray from the bed and causing the empty plate and cups to topple and clatter. On his departure, he slammed the door. Noises. Uncomfortable noises with him.

Tempering my expectations, I slid the zipper on the pink case, anticipating one dull and stubbed pencil.

No way. Not only two new pencils, but a twelve-inch ruler, and a pencil sharpener too. The black sharpener had the number “15” on the side. I took immediate stock of this valuable asset, which I labeled, Asset #15, specifically the razor within. Asset #15 presents with its own label. I smiled at the whimsical thought that the sharpener purposefully joined my plot, a faithful soldier reporting for duty, and determined “15” would form at least a portion of the name of my escape plan.

So as to make my captor feel appreciated for his effort, I plugged in Asset #14, the TV, and pretended to watch. Obviously, I didn’t really care about his precious ego, but these ruses we engineer to trick our enemies, lull and rock them safely in their weak insecurities, until the time comes to spring the trap, pull the cord, and strike with the swift hand of death. Well, maybe not so swift, perhaps a tinge prolonged. He needs to suffer, just a little bit. I unhinged the bucket and used the sharp ends of the handle as a screwdriver.

Not one creature in the house or in the fields beyond surpassed my consciousness that night. Even the moon shrunk to a sliver of dawn while I worked the whole of Night 4.

He did not notice the subtle difference in my jail cell upon delivering my breakfast on Day 5, again on the offensive china plate. At lunch, I fought back a giggle when he asked if I wanted more water.

“Yes, please.”

He had no idea what lay ahead for him, nor the lengths I would go to impose my brand of justice. Who would have thought? This...this “heroes” pretending being all mighty and mercy, dedicated to whatever the fuck are trying to do with my baby, shame, I was kind of warming to them, even admired them.

I don’t care what the news said at the time, I did not run away. Obviously. Why would I have run away? Sure, they were mad. They were furious, but they would support me. They were my parents, and I their only child.

“But you are an honor student? What are you going to do about school?” My father had asked.

They were even more baffled during the clinic visit when they learned I had hidden my condition for seven months.

“How can she be seven months pregnant?” Mother said to the obstetrician, even though her voice did not match the way her eyes accepted the undeniable sight of me.

In reality, I had not merely “gained some weight,” but had grown a perfectly round globe beneath my then swelling breasts. Embarrassed with her own self-delusion, Mother hung her head and sobbed. My father put a tenuous hand on her back, not sure what to do with the woman who rarely shed a tear. Dr. Banner looked at me and pursed his lips, kindly though, and he changed the subject to the near future. “We’ll need to see her again next week. I want to run some tests. Please stop at the receptionist for an appointment.”

If only I knew then what I know now, I would have been more perceptive and caught the clue in real time. Instead, I was too wrapped in my parents’ disappointment to realize the duplicity behind the “receptionist’s” glare or the chlorophyll fog surrounding her misplaced presence. But I remember now; I had subconsciously logged this information at the time. As we approached her, the red-haired, tight-bunned woman with green eyes and false pink cheeks addressed only my mother.

“When did the doctor say she should return?” the “receptionist” asked.

“He said next week,” my mother answered.

“How about next Tuesday at two? Oh, wait, she’ll be in school, right? Prospect High?”

Mother hates unnecessary dialogue. Normally, she would have ignored, even sneered, at the irrelevant question about my high school. Normally, she might answer such a superfluous question with her own biting query, “Does it really matter where she goes?” She is volatile and has no patience for stupidity or people wasting her time. Ill-tempered, highly efficient, particular, methodical, and full of disdain, these are her qualities: she is a trial lawyer. But on that day, she was just a distressed mother, and she hastily answered the question as she fumbled through her date book.

“Yes, yes, Prospect High. How about three-thirty?”

“Sure. Let’s put her at three-thirty, next Tuesday.”

“Thank you.” Mother was only barely listening at this point, and she quickly shuffled me and my father out of the clinic. The receptionist, however, continued to eye us, and I eyed her eyeing us. At the time, I thought she was collecting town gossip about an “unfortunate”  pregnancy from a “prominent family.”

She had our address from my records, of course, meant she could correctly conclude that I walked to school, down a heavily wooded and rural country road. Like a wrapped gift, I presented as the perfect target for this scout. Behind her squinting eyes of cold calculation and her curled hooked nose, she must have set things in motion the second we left the clinic. Perhaps my memory betrays me and makes me imagine this, but in the pictures in my mind, I see her pick up a phone and cover her pink-stained lips to speak. In this picture, her green eyes never lose sight of my return stare....Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow, I was too wrapped in my mother’s hidden disappointment to even recognize her, of fucking course I knew her, she frequented Tony’s lab from time to time, even talked to me a few times (now I know why she was so invested in me telling my parents about the pregnancy and how she said the internship program covered all my doctor appointments)

On the Monday following the appointment with Bruce, the day before my scheduled follow-up, I slipped into my lined, black raincoat and grabbed an umbrella before leaving for school. My backpack was stuffed with books, a pair of stretch pants, sports bra, socks, and change of underwear—all needed for an after-school yoga class I had not signed up for. It was a tiny detail remaining from my months of unintentional deception, one I had neglected to tell my parents, for I was taking yoga on advice from a maternity book I had stolen from the library. Bottom line, to anyone else who didn’t know, it appeared as though I’d left with a change of clothes.

At the end of the driveway, I had an equidistant choice of turning left or right: the back entrance of the school to my left and the front entrance to my right. I timed the distance once, going to the left took 3.5 minutes, and going right took 3.8 minutes, door to door. Really, the decision of going left or right landed upon my daily whim. My whim got it wrong on that Monday.

I turned right and continued under the canopy of my black umbrella in the direction of traffic. Fat raindrops pelted my cover and the ground around me, as though an airstrike began or the gunman had returned. Whenever I hear firing pounding like this, I think of first grade, so naturally, I thought of alarm bells and the blessed sight of policemen pig-piling a gunman. Distracted in this way and lost in macabre memory, I failed to notice the wet, hard, gray clay morning was a prelude, a herald of bad fortune.

Had I gone left, he would not have been able to pull the van alongside me to take me by surprise. He would have caused too much of a scene, for he had only about five seconds of roadway to haul me in, undetected. They had planned this out. Practiced, I believe. At first, I supposed they thought me worth their time. A healthy, young girl with a healthy baby boy in her belly. A girl with high honors, from a wealthy family, and the prospect of a startling career in science. I had received awards for my advanced experiments, demonstrations, models, and reports. Every summer since the age of six, I went to science internships at Stark Tower, my parents were close friends with Tony Stark, and all year I entered private contests. With the help of my parents, Tony Stark and Bruce Banner, I built a lab in the basement with state-of-the-art equipment. A store-bought microscope had no place in my world. My equipment came from the same catalogs used by major universities and international pharma corporations. I studied, I measured, I counted, I calculated, everything. Be it physics, chemistry, medicine, microbiology, I loved all pursuits requiring order and comparison, calculations, and provable theories. I was coddled in this hobby of science and indulged by busy parents with a surplus of money. MIT was a foregone conclusion. My baby and I are very valuable, I thought as the abduction occurred. To my great dismay, however, I soon learned a hard lesson: we were not wanted for brains or ransom.

About twenty steps into my morning commute, a white van appeared upon a whisper, masked by a clap of thunder. The side door slid open, and a blonde built man pulled me in from my left....I lift my gaze to him, Steve Rogers, America’s Golden Boy, I didn’t have a reason to be afraid, I even was going to say hello to him when, simple as that. Quick as that. He threw me on an armchair, which was bolted to the corrugated metal floor of the van. He jammed a gun so close to my face, the steel hit my teeth, tasting of an inadvertent bite of the fork, the one that lingers in your mouth. One car whooshed by, splashing the quick puddles on the pavement, oblivious to my plight. Instinctively, I crossed my belly with my arms. His eyes followed my action; he moved the barrel of the gun to my navel.

“You fucking move and I’ll put a bullet in that baby.”

Stunned to frozen stillness, I gasped and lost my breath. My heart even paused, despite the otherwise wild beating. I am not usually rocked so—only in times of serious shock might I be jolted, my heart set to race. For most of my confinement, I mastered this personal flaw. In the van, however, suffering the debilitation of a flash of emotion, I sat motionless as he pushed me forward, yanked the backpack from my shoulders, and threw it to the floor beside my open umbrella. He placed the gun on an olive-colored stove, held in place on the opposite wall of the van by a series of bungee cords. Then he ripped my arms from my stomach and wrapped duct tape around my wrists and the arms of the chair. For some inexplicable reason, which I have not quite figured out, he turned a green oil rag into a sloppy blindfold. But I’ve already seen your face bastard, you’re supposed to be a hero Mr. Self-righteous, Captain America.

I was taken that fast. I was taken for turning right. I was attacked from my left.

“Where are you taking me?” I yelled to him.

He said nothing.

“How much do you want? My parents will pay. Please let me go.”

“We don’t want your money, bitch. You’re going to deliver that baby for us, and I’m going to throw you in a quarry with the rest of you worthless girls. Now shut the fuck up or I swear I’ll fucking kill you right now. I don’t need any shit. Do you hear me?!”

I didn’t answer.

“Do you fucking hear me?!”

“Yes.”

And those were the facts. I put my foot on the backpack to prevent it from sliding away.

[kotokos-cafe]

Sayaka, Celestia, Ruruka, Kaede, Angie, And Maki Comforting A R*pe Survivor S/O

Sayaka is... baffled.

She can't believe somebody would do that to you! She can feel her breath catching in her throat as she doesn't know what to say...

Sure, Sayaka could apologize, but not only is it not her fault, but she fears it'd sound insincere.

All she can do is hold you (with permission) as you either cry it out on her chest or just as she tries to remain calm.

From that point on, she's very careful with you.

She'll always ask permission to touch you and ask for your clear boundaries, and make sure to never cross them.

And if somebody else does? Oh, Sayaka is going to be pissed.

"Hey! Stay away from S/O! You're making them uncomfortable!"

She tries to give you every form of power she can in your relationship while still making it healthy, simply because she knows you've been made to feel powerless before.

All in all, very understanding and does her best to support you in any way she can.

Celestia is... outwardly calm.

Outwardly.

Inside, however... well, she's already plotting revenge.

But this isn't about that right now. Right now, you're her top priority. She needs to comfort and soothe you first.

"Darling... I am appalled that somebody has harmed you and still has the audacity to breathe the same air as you and I. However, I am so proud of you for finally gathering the courage to tell me of your deepest woes. Fret not, this doesn't make you a lesser person in my eyes. You're still as lovely and wonderful to me as ever."

Celestia will do everything in her power to compliment you and let you know how pure and sweet she views you as. That way you feel less as though your innocence was stolen from you. She knows she can't completely erase that feeling, although she would do so in a heartbeat if she could, but the next best thing in her mind is to take your mind off of it.

Within the week, you end up seeing a story on the news of your attacker being found dead under "mysterious circumstances".

Sorry, I don't make the rules. Celestia was having absolutely none of it. And as she should.

She's... definitely one of the more protective.

Ruruka Splash Art

Ruruka is mortified.

She can't believe that someone hurt you!

No, she can't believe that you let somebody hurt you!

She knows it isn't your fault, of course. And she goes to every extreme to let you know that.

"Hey, My Precious Candy Corn! Y'know you're suuuuuuper awesome and that none of that was your fault, right?"

And once you confront her on her extra sweet speech, she scoffs.

"Ugh. People like that are the reason why we have to have trust issues. But just know that... you're not alone. I know I don't say this nearly enough, and I have a funny way of showing it, but... I love you with all my heart. And I hope that... bastard rots alone in a jail cell!"

If your attacker isn't in jail already, Ruruka forges some evidence and frames them for a crime she actually committed, getting them locked up for a very long time.

And if they are, guess who starts showing up to visits and feeding them secretly poisoned candies?

She watches as their health slowly deteriorates until, finally, the person who had brought you so much strife had suffered until the bitter end.

As they deserve.

Kaede is the type that tries to get you to go to the police, if you haven't already.

"C'mon, S/O. I'll hold your hand the entire time, I promise. But if you don't report this, they could be doing this to other innocent people and getting away with it."

And if they are, great! She congratulates you on your bravery, instead!

"You're so strong, S/O... And so precious to me... I'm so, so sorry that some sick monster put you through such torment..."

You two spend the entire rest of the day cuddling and having an easy, relaxing day to get your mind off of it.

You guys get takeout that night, along with watching your favorite movies, dancing to your favorite songs, and falling asleep on the couch in your pajamas together.

She buys you a soothing salt scrub in a scent she thinks you'd like along with a suggestion.

"I read online that survivors sometimes feel like they're washing away the touches of their assailant. So I figured... maybe it'd work for you."

Aside from that, she does her best to keep reminders of the traumatic event out of your daily life. She won't let you read books with sexual assault in it, she won't let you watch movies with those kinds of scenes in them, etc.! Not unless you're completely sure and already know what you're getting into. And even then, she'll be there with you just in case.

You can't get a more supportive and sweet girlfriend than Kaede. :)

Angie's first instinct is murder.

As it should be.

"How dare somebody defile one of Atua's beautiful creations?! Angie won't stand for this! Angie will punish them in the name of Atua!"

Of course, using Atua is just an excuse she's using to attempt to justify her actions.

In truth, she just wants the person dead because they've hurt you. And she can't stand that.

Angie does her best to keep morale high in you.

"Do not give up! You are still one of Atua's most beautiful creations, and He was generous enough to let Angie have you in her life! Praise Atua!"

If the person is in jail? Great! She comes forward with "evidence" for their other crimes to get them a longer sentence.

And if they aren't? She manages to get them four life tariffs, whether or not you knew. She simply shows you the article in the newspaper that says they'll die behind bars.

This girl maybe eccentric about it, but she won't let you go unavenged.

Unlike Ruruka and Celestia, Maki is very clearly going to commit murder. Not that you're surprised, you expected as much. She'll give you a heads-up, though.

"...I'm going to kill them, S/O. If you don't want to see the aftermath, I'd suggest staying at a friend's house tonight."

If you do, great! You don't have to see a thing. But if you don't, Maki comes home covered in blood, scratches, and bruises. It's clear she had made them suffer just as they had forced onto you.

"I'm sorry, S/O. I hope I'm not frightening you. I just... couldn't stand somebody putting their disgusting, filthy hands on my lover without your consent."

You know Maki would never harm you, of course, so you simply thank her for removing the person that had caused you so much suffering.

If you ask for further details, she'll give them to you, thinking you deserve the closure and satisfaction of knowing exactly what she'd put your attacker through, but it won't be pretty.

She's excellent at dealing with trauma. She never touches you without permission, she buys you all the soaps and cleaning products you desire for that same psychological reason as Kaede, and she makes sure that your space is as comfortable and clean as possible so you don't feel trapped and lost.

All in all, she's a sweetheart who not only gets rid of your problems, but also tortures them.

As she should.

[riddles-n-games]

The Poetry of Battlefields

    The last time Rebecca and I had spoken, she’d confessed to covering for Skye Hawthorne’s role in my attempted murder.

    “I’m not sure I want one,” I said, an edge creeping into my voice. On an intellectual level, I understood that Rebecca had spent her whole life living in her sister’s shadow, that Emily’s death had wrecked her, that she’d felt some kind of sick responsibility to her dead sister to say nothing about Skye’s plot against me. But on a more visceral level: I could have died. “Come back with a different response another time and maybe I will.”

    “You’re not still holding a little grudge about all of that, are you?” Thea Calligaris asked, claiming the seat that Rebecca had left open. 

    “Little grudge?” I repeated and blinked in disbelief. The last time I’d been this close to Thea, she had admitted to setting me up to attend my debut in Texas society dressed like a dead girl and now had the audacity to act like it was just a bit of dirt that could be swept under the carpet. “You play mind games. And Rebecca almost got me killed!“ But, even though I was currently angry at both, more so at the redhead, at least Rebecca had some decency to feel guilty about her actions. Perhaps guilt tripping and her ability to feel easily pressured is exactly what made it easy for Emily to manipulate her, to feel sorry and guilty about almost anything.

    “What can I say?” Thea let her fingertips brush Rebecca’s. “We’re complicated girls.” 

    I rolled my eyes. She was trying to get to me again but I wasn’t going to let her and if she wanted me riled up, I would let rip just to show her why she shouldn’t next time around. Seeing as she had her eyes on Rebecca again, I spoke up to redirect her attention back to me. “Aww, isn’t that cute? Is that your way of telling me you’re quirky? Or is it prep girl talk for ‘I’m not like other girls’?” I air-quoted with my fingers then clasped my hands back together and gave her the best fake smile I could muster before continuing, “Because Thea, that’s no excuse. Not a very good one either, might I add. Frankly, I’m actually disappointed. Last time, you told me you were screwed up and clearly, you still are, because then, maybe you’d actually care about your actions and those consequences. From my perspective, that’s basically a cry for help and either you haven’t sought it out or you don’t want it. Am I right on that one? I think I am. You need a therapist and simply choose not to go therapy even though it is a very viable option for you given the traumatic circumstances of your past year. I know you can afford one otherwise you wouldn’t be here and your folks are most likely filthy rich so all you’d have to do is ask. But no, that’s too easy for you. Instead you woke up and chose violence because needless revenge is apparently better, right? Rather ruin the lives of two brothers further by stupid attempts at brainwashing when they already feel the brunt of that guilt every day and self-destructing with their own unhealthy ways of coping than trying to focus on yourself. Yet, you know about that, don’t you? I would have gladly taken therapy if given the opportunity in your position and swallow my damn pride just so I could move on with my life but I guess you’re just too bored or make no time for that.  That’s prime psychopath behavior and you know what? If you continue down that road of mind games, remorselessness, self-righteous bratting, and manipulation, I can foresee you either ending up in a jail cell in solitary confinement or in a mental asylum with just the voices in your head. But maybe, try being a little more original than the Joker or Harley Quinn because this isn’t Gotham City. Maybe next time you try to pull a stunt like that, you won’t like what I have in store like a restraining order for me, Grayson, Jameson, even Xander here.”

    By the end of my little speech, with my eyes constantly trained on her face, I could tell I struck a nerve. Surprisingly, Xander said nothing and didn’t react at all to my last statement, just let it be even though I could tell that from previous interactions there was still some kind of connection he had with her. Any smugness had left her expression and irritation had taken its place though she would look placid to anyone else.

However, she had a tell, her cheek lightly twitched and despite her effort to remain neutral, her mouth that was drawn into a thin-lipped smile, quivered ever so slightly. I had managed to annoy her. Good, she deserves it. It’s the least she does. Despite my lips threatening to reveal a traitorously victorious smirk, I maintained my innocent guise. I covered my mouth with a hand, in mock apology, “Oh, I’m sorry, was that too much? Whoops, I must have taken it too far this time, I didn’t mean to be so inconsiderate. Accept my deepest and sincerest apologies, but you know what ladies?” I stood up, brushed my skirt and straightened my blazer, and put my hands together.

“I think it’s time for me to be going. Xander, my favorite Hawthorne, I’ll see you at home.” I patted him on the back before turning back to the girls and putting a hand to my chest, “As for you two, I look forward to seeing you the next time around. It was such a pleasant surprise to bump into you, I’m sure we’ll have many more wonderful conversations like this one, isn’t that right, Thea? Really, I truly do anticipate with excitement what bullshit you’ll come up with next. Farewell and have a good afternoon.”

I saluted them and walked away from the table, a sway in my step, leaving them to their affairs. There were better things to do, namely a bet to win and a Hawthorne to beat. Although, I’m sure Jameson would have been proud and even though I tried to push away any and all thoughts related to him and that crooked smile of his, a small grin tugged at the corners of my mouth anyway. It was a good day to be a winner.

[mr-magoriums-im-sorry-emporium]

thats a totally fair view on things! i too want to state that im not trying to Um Actually you, i just see things a bit different, and i like friendly debates im ngl

i do think that yomiel's ultimate fate in the good ending is bittersweet! and i'm glad that he's alive and that horrible tragedy never happened to him, and i'm sure he's very happy about that too

but a part of my criticisms come from looking at the game from a metatextual pov, not just a textual one. sissel saying he still misses yomiel could have clashed- but if the ending was meant to be bittersweet, it wouldn't have!

generally, from a metatextual pov, things happen in media for a reason. the reasons could be for whatever in the media itself, but the writers meant something when they put something in there. lynne asking sissel if he wants revenge after he sees her "shoot" "him," yomiel having a revenge plot and getting betrayed and left to rot... these things are in the game for a reason, and especially yomiel's betrayal is meant to be on some level sad!

but the thing is, to me... it seems like the narrative is punishing him for wanting revenge

which- fair, revenge is a very contentious topic and it can be very complicated to get into the how and the why and the is it worth it arguments, let alone the moral arguments that i wont even get into because it differs from person and situation

but there's a difference between acknowledging the moral greyness, and taking a specific stance one way or the other, and punishing the "wrong" party

yomiel wanted revenge, and enacted a revenge plot. this plot left him stranded at the bottom of the ocean. i can't be certain that this was the intention, i can only infer- but it really does look like yomiel is receiving narrative punishment for his revenge scheme

i have no problem with yomiel being accepting of the things he's done, and hell, him wanting to atone for it via a jail sentence could (and on some level is) a big sign of his character development! there's just one problem that sort of muddies it for me...

cabanela.

in the good timeline, he still intimidated a witness and left his gun in the room with him. that still Happened. he still did the flagrantly incorrect thing that set off this whole horrible chain of events

and in the original timeline, this clearly didn't affect his career much, him advancing to the top ranks and such, and in the good timeline it seems the same way

and there's no canon indication that yomiel will get sissel back. yomiel doesn't get to say, get out of jail and join the big feast at the end. there's no throwaway line saying that sissel and yomiel will be reunited, or sissel wondering what yomiel is up to or if he's ok. hell, cabanela couldve been able to pull some strings and let yomiel keep sissel in the jail cell? but that one's just a fun idea on my part lmao- there are irl prisons who give cats to their inmates lmao its really interesting!

ANYWAY

it seems like yomiel is being punished for wanting revenge, more than cabanela is being punished for pushing him to the brink in the first place. which is what i don't like- the metatextual narrative that yomiel's revenge seeking in of itself is something to be condemned- the way he went about it, especially involving lynne and kamilla, is absolutely Not Good. but the game condemns that (as it should) but then seems to condemn the act of wanting revenge in of itself which i personally don't like!

i could be waaayyyyy reading into things lmao, and honestly? even with me poking holes in it like this, i still LOVE the game and the ending, it really is amazing and im trying to get all my friends to play this game lmfao. but yea thats more of My Thoughts on it now that i am no longer sick and my brain is starting to work a little more

ummmmm musings about the ghost trick ending, under the cut because yknow. spoilers. tldnr i am not The Biggest Fan of the ending; i love the game and always will but i dont think the ending stuck the landing

and no i am not talking about the cat reveal. that was fire

so like, in the good timeline.... everyone's super happy and stuff, and yomiel was in prison for those 10 years instead of being dead, and sissel now lives with jowd

and i. well first i have some thoughts about yomiel being in prison being the good ending because yeah, he wants to atone for what he did, but jowd also wanted that and everyone around him worked together to make sure he didn't do that. or is the difference that yomiel actually did the thing he thought he did?

also, prison is not exactly like... The Best place to be. there are a lot of problems with prison, most notably the isolation that comes with it. especially since yomiel seems to be the only prisoner there, and yeah sissel (fiancsissel) visits him, but are they allowed to hug? or is it one of those prisons that makes you do the phone-call-thru-plexiglass thing. and i dunno man, it just kind of sucks that yomiel went thru 10 years of isolation and then had to go thru 10 years of different slightly less bad isolation

but fine. whatever. what ever! its fine.

but.... the whole climactic moment was how sissel (cat sissel) loved yomiel so much. how they literally WERE each other for years, how sissel was yomiel's only compaion, and how yomiel was sissel's. they were each other's only friends. sissel wanted so badly to help yomiel- and he did! i'm not saying he didn't!

im just saying, like, it feels a bit wrong that he ends up with jowd's family and is just content to be a part of a family, any family, with no real mention of yomiel. like it kind of makes the emotional climax of the game hit a little less hard, knowing sissel doesnt seem to miss yomiel and is just fine living with a different family

but thats just meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

[semi-imaginary-place]

More FFXII thoughts after the game:

I saw someone say that Dr. Cid's lasts words were a final bit of spite and I disagree, Dr. Cid said that out of love. He tells Balthier to fly, to flee the tower because he still cares about his son and wants him to live (because everything is about to explode). This is driven home because Fran (who unequivocally cares about balthier) says the exact same thing to Balthier right after: to fly, to which he responds not without her. During the credits we get an illustration of Dr. Cid smiling at a baby balthier in his arms. In game balthier says that is was 6 years ago that he lost his father (to nethercite and venat) which implies that D. Cid was a dad to him before that point and that he used to have a good relationship with his father (afterall yoh cannot lose what you never had). With Dr. Cid's nethercite ambitions fulfilled and his body turning to mist, the road blocks between them were gone. Dr. Cid always loved his son even after Balthier's defection but it was only at the end that he could once again express his love for the final time.

Wow the king of Dalmasca assassination really was a hell of a setup, he was going to surrender anyways but Vayne had him killed to crush Dalmasca's spirit. He spread a rumor that the treaty signing was a ruse for an assassination knowing that the knights and Basch would come to the king's rescue, and then specifically used Basch's presence to do a body double twin swap with Gabranth to pin the murder on Basch so that Dalmasca would lose not only their king but one of their great heros.

Basch is like the most wanted man in Ivalice since we broke him out of the max security jail cell and the most hated man in Dalmasca, and this is never brought up again, so much so that I forgot about this until now. Did Gabranth not tell anyone the party escaped?? And this is after Vaan goes around yelling "Basch lives!" Does no one recognize him? Zero consequence jail break. I wonder if there's captain Basch fon Rosenburg survived conspiracy theories circulating around Ivalice. And then they do the twin swap again! Basch takes up Noah Gabaranth's name and life, so Basch will never be confirmed alive by the public.

the Dalmascan resistance sort of falls off the face of the earth plot wise after Vossler cuts a deal with the Empire like we don't hear about them after that and I kind of like that. Some of them may have sided with Vossler or Ondor, but more than anything it drives home how powerless the resistence (and Ashe) have been for most of the game. The absence of the resistance for most of the game emphasized how Ashe is almost entirely acting on her own for her own sake. Ashe is partly so driven to seek the deifacted nethercite because she has no leverage, no real power (military, political, etc.). The resistance was kinda of doomed. Vossler wasn't wrong to to try and negotiate with Archades. At that point in the story Ashe was hellbent on a hopeless revenge and would have made Dalmasca's position worse. She did not have the power to effectively fight the Empire but she was willing to do so anyways and have Dalmasca take the retribution and fallout for her actions when she inevitably failed. I mean installing a puppet queen isn't a good outcome but its not a bad one and far better than the consequences of Ashe failing her revenge scheme. There is the question as to whether Ghis would have honored the deal though I think Vayne would have. I do think Vossler gave up the fight for independence too early, but given the situation Vossler didn't make a bad choice.

Vayne wants to be the Alexander of Macedonia of Ivalice, the next dynast-king. I think empire building is inherently evil since it necessitates invading and subjugating other nations and cultures and it's a breach of sovereignty. (does that mean i think alex and the british empire are evil? yup.) But Vayne could be worse, he could have been Bergan, but he's not Vayne isn't malicious or out to mke people suffer. He's also just generally competent and good at his job. His introduction is a speech appealing to pragmatism and the greater good of Dalmasca over petty personal grudges. Then he uses his inauguration feast as bait to lure the resistance in and rout them. So he's pragmatic, charismatic, clever, and ruthless. Vayne also knows the suffering and injustice he has caused and will cause but he is committed to his path. He is rational, efficiently seeking the best outcome. In another world he could have been reasoned with and had a redemption arc. What stopped him in the game was his determination which ironically is usually a heroic trait, and his ego as he wanted to be the one to unify Ivalice, to be this great figure lauded by the history books. A common misunderstanding I see is that Vayne is a cruel or inherently evil person and he's not. The truth is that it is his actions that make him so, he could have chosen differently. Vayne is ruthless and efficient but he's not there to draw out unnecessary suffering, as opposed to say Gabranth who had his brother imprisoned and tortured for 2 years or Bergan who is Bergan. The manga does not help this as manga Vayne has different characterization, but the manga in general wrote inferior versions of the FFXII cast. I think people make Vayne out to be a worse person than he actually is because they want someone to fill the role of designated bad guy even though FFXII was never a story about black and white morality. (well except maybe Bergan)

A lot of the game is spent asking the question what should be done about Dalmasca, and various answers are given throughout the game. Ashe for most of the game wants to risk it all and fight the Empire but she has not real power or support base so she's decided on using fantasy nukes. Ondor also wishes to fight the Empire and get rid of them for good but unlike Ashe he has successfully gathered fighters from Buljerba, Dalmasca, and across Ivalice, and is willing to risk Rozarrian occupation to get rid of Archadia. Vossler has given up on direct opposition to the empire and would rather take half freedom and peace than risk full destruction or greater oppression. And by the end Ashe like Vossler would like to avoid war but finds another way to free Dalmasca. In the end what the party does is take advantage of the battle, in what eventually accounts to a precise assassination strike on the Archadia pro-war faction.

[jeeperso]

D&D Quotes Without Context

Revenge of CHAOTICA! edition, Episode 1

After years of tinkering, Mary Jane Peaceblossom has finally finished reconstructing a Spelljamming helm! Now, Captain William Thunderchild and Amber take their teenage dragon ward Melfina on a maiden flight! Joined by the newly awakened Moonpaw, sent to monitor the flight for problems, because Dingo said they could go fork themselves.

"Alright so we all know the plan right?" "YES! Absolutely! Completely-understand-the-plan-and-ready-to-follow-through. Fiver?" "That was a test. There is no plan. You failed."

Fiver begins scanning the yard for the biggest guy. GM: There is a frost giant. OOC: Okay next biggest? GM: Hill giant. They are playing cards. Kind of hard to kick them in the junk when we can't actually reach said junk. Robbins: "His-junk-is-bigger-than-me."

OOC: I was gonna grab and throw him at the frost giant's junk.

Robbins: "Better-than-prison-rations...Still-needs-mustard." Fiver: "Not the first time I've been given that critique. Apparently I taste 'gamey.' Don't ask how I know this."

"Lemme-go! I-know-my-rights! I-demand-trial-by-puppet!"

Thunderchild's original suggestion of "William Thunderchild's Mutha-Fucking-Pimp-Hand" was veto'd.

Moonpaw, all you know is a half elf reeking of weed bought you from a pet shop yesterday and as of two hours ago you have higher brain functions.

"I am so going to use my new brainpower to plot your demise."

Thunderchild: "Fair enough, we can't all be the Sisko." MJ: "Praise be his name."

Suddenly, the whole ship lurches, as if going to full speed and even beyond. Melfina cries out “WHATS GOING ON?” Thunderchild: "I'll let you know as soon as I figure that out."

"We-need-your-ship. And-your-clothes." "Jokes on you: I don't wear any."

Thunderchild: "First rule of spelljammer crashes, be sure to establish that it's the other guys fault."

Fiver: "Don't mind her she has a thing about Paladins." Katt: "APAB." Moonpaw: "I don't speak whatever that is."

"Does your ship even still work?" "It didn't before."

"Although something that wont explode would be preferable." The viewing crystal explodes.

Thunderchild: "OOH I HAVEN'T HELPED WITH A PRISON BREAK IN AGES!"

Fiver: "I want to know how much they need to be filled in." Moonpaw: "All of it. Me, especially."

"Oh it's Helmut. This may be trouble. I hope he's still not sore about the Jock strap incident."

“Hands where we can see them!” "What do I do if I don't have hands?"

"KATT DON'T BE STUPID. IF YOU DIE HOW YOU GONNA EXPLAIN IT TO YOUR GODDESS GIRLFRIEND YOU GOT KILLED BY TWO MOOKS IN A JAIL?" “Hey! We’re not mooks! We’re at least elite henchpersons!” "And it's adorable you think that makes a difference." “We get health insurance and Chaotica doesn’t kill us if we displease her!”

"Cells-cells-cells-toilet-cells-game-room-cells-Oh Bridge."

"You can outrun anyone. If my life has a meaning, that is the meaning."

You follow her voice to a room bare save a table laden with charts and a green glowing dodecahedron surrounded by black metal chains. Thunderchild: "Well that is something." Fiver: "That looks nice and ominous."

"And a soul cage, who the hell uses such a twisted thing?" "The Empress CHAOTICA. Mongospace sucks."

“It feels like the same magic Auntie MJ cast before.” thunder rumbles horses whinny tortle noises "Whered-the-tortle-come-from?" "No, not you, not again!" "Why is there a gnome with a sheet of tin?"

You look out the port. Good news, you’ve moved. Bad news. There’s a plain of ice outside. "ICEBERG-AHEAD!" Worse news: you’re already on the ground. "ICEBERG-BENEATH!"

"He's-here." “Oh, yeeeeeeessss, I am!”

"Alright-we're-exiting. Just. Wait. How-cold-is-it-out-there?" "Mongo, so YES."

"I'd like to run instead of dying while only five hours old."

"Block Beta for life. All 10 seconds left of it."

The rhythmic thudding stops. From right outside the helm door you hear, in a monotone voice. “Open the door and come peacefully. Please resist. So we may BURN YOUR HEARTS IN A FIRE!” "Not by the hairs on our chinny-chin-chins!" "What she said." "I'm kind of partial to living."

"Also I would like to lodge a formal complaint with your staff violating the rules of the Genosa convention by attacking a medic. I am a cleric of El Araihah and am afforded special protections. Also they singed my good suit. And my good toupee." "Now-its-only-a-half-pee."

"Oh wait till we get to the TORCHAAA you'll hate that. They stick very tiny lobsters in your ears and they snip off pieces of your brain. It's actually worse than it sounds if you can imagine."

Janus: *deep sigh* "MJ, Mary. I asked you to do one thing, and that was 'Make sure Thunderchild doesn't get everyone killed with that crate.' What did you do? And what are our options for a rescue mission?" Heidi: "I can strap some explosives to an Apparatus of Kwalish." Janus: "Will that get us to the Astral Sea?" Heidi: "One way or the other probably."

[whatsabriard]

Watch With Me: Hart to Hart 1x03

Episode Title: Passport to Murder

Original Air Date: September 29, 1979

Why this one?: Jonathan Hart jail strip tease. you heard me.

Favorite Quote: "Such a dirty, dirty boy you need a bath."

This episode is about drug smuggling from Mexico. So you know, really light, fun stuff. Throw in a little blackmail and crooked cops, the Harts pretending to fuck to get out of jail (I WISH I WAS KIDDING - no i don't.) it's a lot.

The Harts sailed to Baja with a friend. For a vacation? His wife and kids were supposed to come along but alas. This is an important detail to the plot, which I don't actually care about.

Their ship is called "The Romance" because they've made their last name their entire personality and I love that for them.

I love the conceit that this whole things takes place while the Harts are dressed to the nines (tuxedo and all) through this mess, so Jonathan is pulling STRONG Bond vibes.

"I should never travel with you." I mean, it's good advice. The get into this shit with alarming regularity. But this friend dude is a mean drunk.

Then he falls down the stairs which is...not great.

Jennifer speaks impeccable Spanish. Because Stefanie speaks impeccable spanish. AND french. and she's pretty strong with german. overachievers, both of them.

I just love that they go running all over Mexico in their sunday best. Ya'll could have changed into jeans, you dummies. But then Jonathan wouldn't be able to run around looking deliciously rumpled with his shirt open halfway down.

A dead guy falls on Jennifer. She's always being accosted by dead bodies.

"Remember that article I did on drug abuse?" She's a drug expert now, although she can't tell if it is cocaine or heroin. But she does know it isn't white flour!

Jonathan puts The Romance up for collateral to get money for some drug exchange thing. I'm sitting here watching this and my brain just absolutely blue-screens on this plot stuff.

So Jonathan gives the drug guy the money and he gets the drugs. Then the police come and find the drugs on him and confiscate them and send them to jail. IIRC it's a big scam full of corruption.

Jonathan hands over the drugs to Jennifer to identify. She's like "I guess it's the same?" she didn't even TASTE IT. But I suppose that would have created an entirely different episode.

"She's not stimulating my appetite." lmao look. Jennifer is straight up objectifying jonathan to their guard. "Show her the ole pearly whites". and then. And THEn shE StrIPS him.

pours water on him

makes out with him

and attacks the guard when she comes in to check out if they're actually doing the big nasty in the jail cell.

this whole scene makes me go absolutely fucking feral it's SO FUNNY.

they really sat in the writers room and then went "This is perfect". bless.

then they remain handcuffed together for most of the rest of the episode.

jonathan gets his "my wife just tried to pimp me to the lady guard" revenge when he snaps her heels and tears her dress so she can run faster.

they've gone from deliciously rumpled to a real hot mess pretty quick. and then oops, they have to get in the water and swim to safety!

"are you sure your relatives didn't scout for custer?" damn jennifer.

these assholes are actually managing to swim cuffed together. AND they're getting shot at. Good thing the cop guy is a bad shot and also good thing there aren't leeches in that water yikes.

so then there's like a whole bunch of plot where they get into the sheriff's house, they're chased by a helicopter and in the end they find out that Drunk!Friend's family was never in any danger. It's a scam on a scam on a scam.

"Now proimse me, we won't get involved in any more of these THINGS." Promise, promise, promise. "Because if you do, I'm just going to have to chain you down, and that's just for starters." I hope you're planning on a big finish. "Oh I am, now that we're alone like this." and guess what they're not alone but they don't care because they're The Harts.

if you guessed this episode ended on the harts making out, you win a prize!

[jiejie-eonni-onee-sama]

You’re my sunshine...

For the talented @hiraethmaximoff​ ​​🌷

Hope you’ll like it!

Escorted by two Dora Miljae and handcuffed, Helmut Zemo arrived in Wakanda. After all, it was a part of the deal made between Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson: in exchange for the help from Wakanda, they must hand the man responsible for King Tchaka's death to them.

Following him, Sam and Bucky watched their unusual ally walking to his fate. They decided to come with the Wakandian royal guards to keep an eye on Zemo. But also for paying a visit to their Avenger colleague, King T'Challa, aka Black Panther.

The group arrived at the royal palace and met King T'Challa, Queen Mother Ramonda, and Princess Shuri.

The monarch got up from his throne and came to greet his friends:

"Welcome to Wakanda, my dear friends. It's been a long time!"

"Indeed, T'Challa. I would rather pay you a visit in other circumstances, but here we are!" replied Bucky.

"I agree. But, as we promised to your Dora Milaje, we bring Baron Helmut Zemo to you. But I suppose you do not need presentations..." said Sam.

"I don't think so, indeed," replied Queen Ramonda.

As for Shuri, she glared at Zemo with anger. She never forgave him for plotting this explosion that claimed the life of her beloved father.

T'Challa went near the prisoner and faced him with dignity:

"So, we meet again, Zemo."

"The pleasure is reciprocal, Your Majesty." replied the Sokovian with a sly grin.

Shaking his head with displeasure, T'Challa ordered his guards to take their prisoner away.

Once Zemo away, Shuri turned to Bucky and Sam before saying:

"I hope that it would help us to find some peace. It felt so long before you finally catch this man."

She paused before muttering:

"Even if it would not bring my father back."

"I am sorry for your loss..." politely replied Sam.

"However, I have heard from Okoye that he suffered a loss too. Is that right?"

"Indeed, Your Majesty. During the events in Sokovia, when the Avengers fought against Ultron, he lost his wife and his son. Since this tragedy, Zemo held the Avengers responsible for their deaths. And well, you know the story." sighed Bucky.

"Unfortunately, yes. However, the S.H.I.E.L.D visited us two years ago."

"REALLY?"

T'Challa nodded.

"Yes, and Director Fury entrusted us with a special guest. And when I said a special guest, I weigh my words!" 

"Who is it?" asked Sam.

"Follow me, and you will see!" explained the king.

Puzzled, the Winter Soldier and the Falcon followed T'Challa through the corridors of the royal palace until they arrived in front of a large door.

The Wakanda ruler knocked at the door, and a servant opened:

"Yes, Your Majesty?"

"Is (Y/N) here?"

"Indeed, King T'Challa. The young (Y/N) is currently reading a book in his private library, sir."

"I would like to see him."

The servant nodded, then opened the door before leading the group to the library. They saw a young boy, sitting on an armchair, who read a novel.

The servant politely announced:

"Young Mister (Y/N), His Majesty King T'Challa would like to discuss with you."

The young boy closed his book and got up to greet his visitors:

"Hello, T'Challa. Good afternoon, Queen Ramonda. Hi, Shuri"

"Good afternoon, my boy. Sorry to interrupt your reading!" gently said the Queen Mother of Wakanda.

The brown-haired boy looked at the newcomers with puzzlement.

"Is there something wrong?"

They all looked at each other before Shuri explained:

"(Y/N), I think you should sit down. We need to talk..."

Meanwhile, in his cell, Helmut Zemo evaluated his situation. Honestly, his condition was not worse as he expected: despite being King T'Chaka's indirect murderer, he was in a comfortable cell. 

He closed his eyes as he remembered his last confrontation with Bucky. The Sokovian wondered why Barnes did not shoot him in the face. One bullet in his skull, and he would have been free. 

He would have been reunited with them again. 

A tear fell on his cheek as he remembered his wife, Inge. He often wondered how such a beautiful and smart woman like her could end up being his wife. Helmut wished they had more time together to tell her how much he loved her.

And she gave him the most beautiful present he could ever dream of: his son (Y/N).

Zemo kept his eyes tightly closed as he reminisced the day he held his child for the first time. He was so scared that he would not be a good father. But, at the same time, he felt a wave of joy and love went through him, as he made himself a promise to always be there for his son.

His little boy was the most precious thing he could ever have in his life. (Y/N) was so lovely, cute, and clever. He always has a smile on his face, like a ray of sun in a grey sky.

His heart hurt as Helmut reminded this dreadful day after the destruction of Sokovia. He looked around the ruins, screaming the names of his beloved ones at the top of his lungs. 

Then, he spotted the dead body of his father, who laid on the floor, a large bleeding wound on his forehead. He felt a pang of fear in his chest, and what he feared the most happened. 

Zemo discovered his wife and his son under the ruins of a wall. He saw himself falling on his knees, wailing of despair as he held their bodies against him.

It was the beginning of his downward spiral against the Avengers, those who caused all this disaster... 

"You're okay?"

Zemo woke up from his thoughts and noticed the presence of Bucky, leaning against the doorframe. 

He scoffed:

"I expected worse. But I won't complain."

"Sure, you could have a harsh treatment."

The two men stayed silent until Helmut sighed:

"You should have killed me."

"I beg your pardon?"

Barnes saw a wave of anger and sadness in Zemo's eyes:

"You should have pulled the trigger once and for all."

"I made a deal, and I always keep my promise."

Helmut muttered:

"Sure you are... unlike me."

"What are you talking about?"

Zemo got up and walked to the glass that separated him from his freedom, facing Bucky.

"I promised my son that he would be safe, and I will be with him. I failed to keep it, thanks to your friends!"

"Hey, blame Ultron for it!"

"And who created Ultron?"

Bucky kept his mouth shut as he admitted Zemo was right: if only Stark did not create this homicidal android... 

"Oh, whatever! It would not bring them back!"

Bucky turned around and replied while leaving them:

"You know, life always has a surprise in store for us."

Helmut did not know what to think about Barnes's sentence: it was too obscure.

Anyway, he would not get out of here until King T'Challa said so. Leaning on the wall, Zemo closed his eyes and hummed a song he used to sing to (Y/N) when he needed some comfort:

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine.

You make me happy when skies are gray.

You'll never know, dear, how much I love you.

Please don't take my sunshine away.

"Dad?"

Helmut snapped his eyes open as he heard this familiar voice calling him. No, it could not be... It is impossible!

He turned his head and saw a young boy who looked at him through the glass. He might be 12 years old, probably.

But for sure, Zemo could recognize him anywhere.

"(Y/N)!" he cried as he rushed near the glass, putting his palms against it.

He could not believe his eyes: his beloved son was here, alive and in good health!

As for (Y/N), he was happy to see his father again. Even if he would prefer to see him free, not in jail, but after what he did out of revenge, the young boy guessed his dad got his righteous punishment. 

"Hi, Dad." he gently said as he put his hand where his father put his palm. 

Meanwhile, behind a tainted glass, Bucky, Sam, and the royal family of Wakanda watched this moving reunion.

"So, if I understand: when the S.H.I.E.L.D went to Sokovia to certify the damage after the battle against Ultron, they found the Zemo family and realized this boy was barely alive, right?" asked Sam.

"Exactly. Fury took the child with him and gave him the best medical treatment. It took a long time, but he managed to recover. Then, he brought (Y/N) here, as he knew Wakanda would have better medical equipment! At the time, Zemo provoked this disaster in Berlin," explained Shuri.

"And we took care of (Y/N). I could not believe that this sweet boy was the son of the man who killed my husband. But I would not blame him for his father's sins!" added Ramonda.

"We explained to him what his father did and the reason behind his crimes. (Y/N) was saddened but happy to know his father was alive. After all, it is his only family left!"

"Indeed..." muttered Bucky.

At that moment, Helmut and (Y/N) tried to catch up with time.

"I thought I lost you."

"I thought I would never see you again, Dad."

Suddenly, Zemo felt a wage of guilt through his body. How down he went! What his flesh and blood could think of him being in jail?

"I wish you would never see me like this. I can understand that you're ashamed of me..."

"I am not, dad. At least, we are together now."

(Y/N) bit his lip.

"Besides, no matter what happens, I will be waiting for you until you paid for your crimes. Because I trust you, and I love you!"

"I love you too, Mein Kleiner Sonnenschein." (My little sunshine).

Suddenly, the glass between them disappeared. Then, Helmut and (Y/N) heard the voice of Shuri through the speakers:

"What would be a proper father-son reunion without an embrace?"

When he realized what she did, Zemo hugged his son in a fierce embrace, kissing his forehead.

"I promise, son: I will do anything to be the father you deserve."

"You already are."

Finally, Zemo got his sunshine back, and it enlightened his long road to redemption...

Thanks for the reading: I hope you enjoyed!

Don’t hesitate to reblog, like or leaving comments!

I am looking forward for your requests!

See you later and take care!🥰😘😍