#that’s just a small part of the world building though. there’s certainly a lot more

[sleepdepravity]

Also I’ve finally started reading through the jasper fforde books I’ve missed out on and the world of early riser is absolutely horrifying, with its “pooled parentage stations” that basically is a nunnery but the nuns are devoted to constantly giving birth to support the population but at the same time there’s something extremely funny about names like “mother fallopia” and “sister zygotia”

[wannabespacesmuggler]

D.D. | Shane's Girl

Part Three | Masterlist | Buy me a coffee | Check out the playlist

Summary: Daryl Dixon knows he shouldn’t be thinking about you when he’s alone at night in his tent. Hell, he shouldn’t even be looking at you throughout the day. You’re not his. You’re Shane’s girl. But Daryl doesn’t like the way Shane treats you. And he certainly doesn’t like how you’re forced to play ‘loving girlfriend’ to a man with eyes for another woman at the camp.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Warnings: Shane Walsh sucks

Word Count: 1.5K

Author’s Note: It has once again been a hot second. I love this idea so much and want to continue it. I'm really glad that all of you seem to enjoy this little fic as well. Did anyone else watch the new Daryl Dixon show? I liked it a lot more than Dead City; however, the final episode felt super lackluster, especially with all of the build-up. Maybe that's just me. Anyway, let me know what you guys think of this one, if you want to be added to the taglist, or just want to ask me a question.

Extras: Playlist

“Like this?”

Your voice pulls Daryl out of his quiet concentration. He’d been so busy at work, sharpening the tip of the crossbow bolt in his hands, that he’d almost forgotten that you were sitting with him. Daryl’s gotten used to being alone. Hell, most of the time, being alone is better than the alternative -- being in the company of Merle Dixon. However, you are certainly nothing like Merle Dixon. 

Daryl coughs awkwardly -- trying to ground himself back in reality. It was early evening when you wandered into the Dixons’ makeshift camp. You’d finished all of your chores relatively early for the day and desperately wanted to do something instead of sitting down by the lake and gossiping with Andrea and Amy. You had attempted to find Shane, in the hope that maybe the two of you could take watch together. Since the world fell apart, you haven’t really had any time to actually talk with Shane. You can’t blame him though, his concern for Carl and Lori is admirable. And you know that if the situation were reversed, Rick would do the same and would make it his life’s mission to look out for you. You just wish your boyfriend could extend some of that comfort to you. 

That’s how you find yourself across the fire from Daryl, sharpening the crossbow bolt you made together. Daryl’s eyes shift from your face to your hands, to assess your progress. His eyes widen slightly once he notices how you’re holding the knife in your hands. You stop moving once notice the change in Daryl’s features.

“Did I do something wrong?”

Daryl watches as you physically shut down-- as if you’re preparing for him to be angry over a simple crossbow bolt. His jaw clenches at your reaction. He is angry, but not at you. No, he’s angry because he understands. He resists the urge to ask you who it was that has managed to make you feel so small and, instead, moves to the other side of the fire so that he can sit beside you.

“Nah, you didn’t do anything wrong. Just hold the knife like this, ‘lright?”

Daryl physically shows you how to hold the knife away from your body while you’re sharpening the bolt. Your eyes follow his movements for several moments before replicating them. Daryl watches you intently, nodding whenever you look over for his approval.

“Yeah, jus’ like that.”

A small smile plays at the corners of your lips at the sudden softness in Daryl’s voice. You distract yourself by watching Daryl’s careful work with the crossbow bolt in front of him. It’s obvious how much the craft means to him -- it’s quite mesmerizing to watch.

“You’re really good at this. Did your dad teach you?”

Daryl stops for just a split second and draws in a breath. He rolls his shoulders back, trying to rid himself of the thoughts that come to mind at the mention of his father. His first instinct is to lash out and shut down -- and he probably would if it were anyone else; however, you have been nothing but kind to Daryl since he and Merle arrived at the makeshift camp. The idea of chastising you for your harmless curiosity makes his stomach turn. 

Daryl clears his throat and finally releases the breath he was holding. He resumes carefully sharpening the bolt in his hands.

“I taught myself.”

You nod at his explanation, trying to ignore his change in demeanor. Just as sudden as the softness in Daryl’s features came, it is replaced by his usual indifference. It’s as if for just a split second you were able to see through the brick wall that Daryl has erected around himself. He lets his defenses down just long enough for you to see that there is warmth behind the cold front. 

“Well, it’s really impressive. I don’t know anyone else who can use a crossbow or make their own arrows.”

Daryl nods and attempts to keep a straight face, fighting off a small smile.

“It’s really not that hard. My daddy had a load of hunting gear in our garage and with Merle always getting locked up, I had a lot of time to practice.”

You resist the urge to ask him more about his past. Based on his previous reaction, you can tell that it’s not a topic he’s comfortable with. Before you can change the subject, a rustling in the surrounding woods grabs both of your attention. You freeze in place, expecting the worst; however, Daryl springs into action. He grabs his crossbow and places his body in front of yours -- in this position, he’s managed to shield you from the source of the noise.

Daryl readies his aim and you brace yourself for a potential fight; however, before he can release the trigger, you grab his arm, stopping him in his tracks. Instead of a walker, Shane and Lori emerge from the woods. The smile on Shane’s face fades into a deep scowl as he takes in the scene before him. 

“What the hell is going on here?”

His words are laced with venom as his eyes narrow at Daryl, who still hasn’t lowered the crossbow. You give Daryl’s arm a gentle squeeze, silently pleading with him to not escalate the situation. He shakes off your touch but lowers the crossbow. You move in front of Daryl, hoping to diffuse the situation.

“Relax Shane, Daryl was just showing me how to make some arrows.”

Shane ignores you completely. His eyes don’t even leave Daryl as you speak.

“I told you to stay the fuck away from her.”

His voice raises and Daryl notices how you shrink away from Shane as he takes an aggressive step forward. His eyes narrow at Shane, who continues to dismiss you. Now he knows who made you feel so small. A surge of anger rises within Daryl, along with the need to protect you -- which is quickly becoming a common feeling for him nowadays. Daryl mimics Shane’s actions, taking a step forward and sizing up the man in front of him. 

You watch the scene play out before you and before either of them can throw the first blow, you place yourself in between the two seething men. 

“I approached him. I couldn’t find you so I asked him for help, okay? Where did you go?”

Shane finally turns his attention away from Daryl and focuses on you. He places his hands on his hips as he looks down at you. Daryl’s brow furrows at the sight -- this isn’t the posture of a loving boyfriend. No, right now Shane looks like a parent scolding a child. He lets you take control of the situation; however, he anxiously observes your interaction with Shane, ready to jump in if Shane’s anger gets the better of him. 

“I was helping Lori look for Carl.”

Anger is still evident in his voice, but he seems to have settled down to a simmering rage. Daryl raises a brow at his explanation. He doesn’t say anything, but he finds it very unlikely that there would be anything less than a full search party if any of the children in camp actually went missing. Daryl shifts his gaze to Lori who is still standing on the edge of the woods. Her face is flushed, her hair is disheveled, and her clothing seems to be thrown on haphazardly. It seemed like she and Shane had gotten into some trouble out there, but neither of them have any blood on them. They both, however, are covered in dirt -- hell, Shane looks like he just rolled around the forest floor.

Oh. Oh.

Daryl looks at you, hoping you just came to the same conclusion. You know Shane is lying. In your search to find him earlier today, you noticed that Carol was watching Carl and Sophia play down by the lake. And as much as you want to call out his deception, you also don’t want to start yet another fight. 

You let out a sigh and give Shane a solemn nod. Lori uses this moment to excuse herself from the conversation -- muttering something about finishing the laundry. Shane shoots Daryl a final glare before grabbing your shoulder and pulling you away from the archer. Daryl watches you both walk away. Eventually, Shane releases his hold, leans his head down, and whispers something in your ear. You nod at whatever he says before casting your eyes toward the ground. Shane, on the other hand, stands up a bit taller at your reaction and walks off confidently. 

Daryl clenches his fists as you look in his direction. Embarrassment washes over your features once you notice that he is still watching you. Daryl frowns as you drop your head and walk off in the direction of your tent. You shouldn’t be embarrassed -- Shane should. He may have promised Shane that he’d stay away from you, but Daryl decides, at this moment, that he doesn’t give a damn. Nobody gets to treat you like that.

Taglist: @darylsl0ver@minervadashwood@hotgirlsshareaccounts@taterbbbug@dreamtofus@youcantstandit @ajlovesdilfs @prettywhenibleed @luvsvnlqt-things @evie-beanie @strnqer@marina-isabella@lissanovak@elissanatok@1tsk1tty@moejoeflow@ceoofdisappointment@jewellthebooknerd @callsignwidow @genderless-ghosty-boi

[gillyeowalters]

I love the small things about Warframe's design so much. Like, the Duviri architecture.

[Spoilers!]

The houses obviously are just wall parts of the Zariman, arranged to look like settlements/towns. The same goes for many of the harvestable plants, that also mimic Zariman design elements (especially noticeable with the cactus-like Ueymag, that has an unnaturally symmetrical shape, mimicking the often repeated tuning fork-shape).

Duviri has multiple bioms, plains, snowy mountains, a desert, but they are all way too small to exist naturally.

All this paints the picture of a world created by the mind of a child, who might have never seen anything else but the inside of a spaceship. They might have never seen other architecture, so all houses have to look like they were ripped straight out of the Zariman's structure. They know that mountains and deserts exist, but they do not understand their scale, so they become just one more small piece of Duviri. Just like cartographs back in history they fill the unknown of their world with set pieces and the skeletal structures found all over Duviri lend themselves for a comparison to this "Here there be dragons" mindset.

Children build and recreate what they know all the time to learn and better understand it, but also to express their wishes and creativity. This gives the idea of a child, confined in space, wishing to get to be somewhere else, visiting the places they have heard of.

We get to see quite a few rather large settlements in Duviri, but the amount of houses and people does not seem to match. In general, only very few people seem to be roaming the streets. This is not an adult doing extensive worldbuilding, this is a child with a lot of building blocks but very few dolls building a world on which they can project their emotions and memories onto.

Most of Duviris normal inhabitants are just decorations, not existing to be characters, but because a town "needs to have people in it". They are not defined by who they are, but by what they do- and what they do is react to the player, sit around, talk and cower in fear when enemies approach.

The simple shapes of the buildings are very close to the concept of real life building blocks. Paedagogic toys often are simple, to allow for easy handling and more creative freedom.

The theme of death is also omnipresent. Every animal resembles a carcass build from metal plating and even the Dax enemies are skeleton-like, the Gladius' helmets lower part even resembling a rabbit skull. We obviously know how the story of the Zariman ended and the skulls and bones might be just an indicator of potential danger, but what if the skeletal design of Duviri's inhabitants are not supposed to indicate not (just) death, but an infinished state? They are walking skeletons, yet missing a skin, their shape, just like the fractured bodies of the townspeople, not fully formed out in the child's head. Since the townspeople are humanoid though, they look more finished, while all the child might have ever seen of sheep, cats, dogs, horses and owls could have very well been just pictures in a school book, maybe next to a diagram of their underlying anatomy (after all, one of the few things we get to experience of the daily life on the Zariman, is school).

There is also an enemy called the Dax Herald. A Herald was a specialist in ceremonies, making sure that they were held correctly (besides also having diplomativ tasks). Their head resembles a security camera, adding a layer of oppressive social norms normal humans certainly suffered under in the orokin empire

[malrie]

what: vampire (and werewolf) jasipereo au. liper intimacy. unnecessary tropey world-building. you won't think about this again. wc: 1200

-

Piper drags a long nail over Jason’s bared throat, but it’s Leo who presses his mouth into a line and swallows. Jason is half-sprawled on the carpet of Piper’s opulent bedroom, his dirty workwear jeans a more theoretical worry than a real one. He has his head resting at the base of the four-poster, and Piper, laying on her mattress stomach-first, has to reach down to meet him.

The touch is gentle. It’s hard to imagine the two were on the verge of tearing each other apart when Leo had first met them.

Leo tries distracting himself with cleaning the crossbow on his lap. It isn’t his, but as the hunters’ designated armorer, he likes to get personal. The irony is that the owner will go out explicitly to kill or capture the kind of monsters Leo’s in the presence of right now. At that reminder, he loses most of his enthusiasm for polishing the gears. He wipes his hands from the grime and puts the equipment away.

Piper folds further down to whisper something. All Jason does is close his eyes, mouth forming a small smile. Piper gets back fully on the bed and drops her face straight into it, her long dark hair obscuring the entire top half of her body.

“Looks like we actually do have a lot in common,” Jason says, his eyes still shut, as though he was trying to sleep. The afternoon light filters through a sliver of opening left by the blackout curtains. “Same likes.”

It feels baiting. “Like what?”

Jason waits, as though he expects Piper to answer. When she doesn’t, he continues, “We like to bite.”

“Okay,” he says slowly. “So do fish.”

“We like to bite you,” Jason clarifies, making Leo flush all the way down to his collar.

On cue, Piper turns her head from the sheets just to speak. “Leo,” she calls quietly, almost sheepish, “I’m hungry.”

His blood is still rushing, which is maybe a good thing for the situation at hand. Distantly, in the back of his mind, Leo hears the warning of every hunter he ever knew growing up: Never let a vampire bite you. Just once is enough for them to stake a claim. Most operatives would kill themselves before allowing such a travesty to happen to them. What does it say about Leo that this will be the sixth time? That again, he’ll lie prone under her cool hands, allow her lips to kiss his skin, then break into his wanting flesh?

Leo can’t bring himself to care about repercussions anymore. Besides, Jason’s the werewolf. And he’s done worse to Leo than bite.

The bed creaks a little when he sits beside her. Piper rolls to her side, arms splayed out comfortably, peeking out from her fringe up at Leo. She looks as young as him, like she could be any other college-aged kid, even if that can’t be quite accurate.

“Sorry,” she says, almost at default.

Leo can’t actually say that it was okay, because it maybe isn’t. He doesn’t like to lie to her. Instead, he places his palms down on either side of her head and admits, “I like it. Getting bit.”

He can’t see Jason from here, but Leo hears him give out a short laugh. 

“Even if it hurts?” Piper doesn’t seem to believe him.

He bends down, parts the hair over her forehead and presses an upside down kiss to it. She smells like lavender oil. He wonders what he smells like now. Certainly not lavender.

He says, “I think I kind of like that, too.”

Piper gets herself to sit up, then gently urges him to settle against the backboard, a pillow behind him. Leo looks into her eyes, flashing an unearthly yellow, then red, then brown again, and can’t help the goofy smile that comes on.

“I thought you didn’t like making a mess in here,” he teases. His fingers flex in and out, anticipating. 

“We’ll just make the puppy clean it up,” she tells him.

“I’m so abused,” replies Jason. He’s still awake, but he also wouldn’t sleep through something like this. At least Piper stashed his glasses away at some point, just for fun. What kind of werewolf had shitty vision?

Instinctively, before she even starts, Leo feels the base of his neck, expecting mottled skin or scarred tissue from the times they’ve done this in the past. But what he touches is smooth, unmarred. The reason for this is what makes the moral quandary even more difficult: in order to heal beyond human capabilities of his own, Piper McLean feeds him her blood. 

The hunters—the only family he’s known since birth—would never stand for a vampire fledgling in their ranks. Even if he never became one of the night walkers, they might still kill him. He’s marked now. Stained.

Piper, seeing what must be some range of his emotions, cups his face in her hands, leaning close enough that all the world fell away around them like broken glass. For one moment, all that exists is her.

“Tell me to stop and I will,” she says, voice low, purposefully vulnerable.

It’s power she’s offering him, stronger than her own will-breaking compulsion or Jason’s ability to leap impossible bounds. She’s giving him the power to decide what their future would look like, with or without him in their lives.

Luckily, Leo has already made his choice.

He mimics the line Piper had drawn on Jason down her own throat, a trail he follows with his lips once he leans into her. Piper McLean is heiress to the most dangerous, ancient vampire brood in the northern hemisphere. Out in the world, she is daring, cold, and undoubtedly feared. Here, she shivers at his every caress, gasps at the way the heat of his fingertips ignite as they travel beneath her nightshirt. Then he does something else—something new.

Piper jolts, riding a sudden wave of shock. “Leo!” she cries. He didn’t know vampires could flush, too; her complexion darkens with embarrassment as she opens and closes her mouth, unable to form a coherent sentence. She barely meets his eyes.

“What happened?” Jason asks, using a muscled arm to raise a part of himself over the foot of the bed. He doesn’t say it with much worry, only like he’d been meaning to look all this time and was finally glad for a reason.

Leo falls over her silk sheets in stitches. Piper picks up a pillow to try to smother him, still completely flustered. She quickly gives up and slaps one side of her neck—the same side where Leo had left a perfect indentation of his dull human teeth.

“He-he bit me!” 

Despite her reaction, Piper still appears dizzy, and Leo only knows it’s because she’s considering what’s tied all three of them together. The link they have is made of chains and the only way they can lose Leo is if they saw him off. Jason comes to stand, large and looming and lovable, squinting at them on the bed. Almost recovered, Piper examines her already healing mark with fascination, and maybe a sort of growing excitement.

“Same likes,” Leo tells them cheerfully.

[itsohh]

With You

A/N: Female reader, the cheating tag is there cause well I mean, Deimos has a wife lol.

Summary: After a mission goes wrong you find yourself in a decade long coma only to find out that your mentor betrayed your team and is currently the world's most wanted.

Word count: 4784

Warnings: Angst, cheating, age difference, power imbalance

Masterlist AO3

2012

A curse left your mouth as he held you pinned against the floor. The second that he kept you there was almost a lifetime, eternal as time slowed down. Completely trapped under him as the heat radiated from his body onto you. If you weren't already hot from training you were certain your checks would have heated up. Time sped up again and he removed himself from on-top you. “Going to have to last longer than that Rookie.”

By no means were you new to combat, yes you were younger than most of the operatives but you weren't a rookie. You didn't dare say that to Gerald though. At the end of the day he was right- you were less experienced than most of the other Rainbow operators. Gerald knew that your enemies wouldn't go easy on you so he didn't go easy on you. 

“I know.” You finally answered him as he handed you your bottle of water. 

“We're doing overtime tonight, I want to see improvement.”

“Can’t, I've got prior plans.” 

Gerald froze at your refusal. “Prior plans?”

“Uh huh.”

“How in the hell do you have prior plans? This should be your biggest priority.”

“Yah know they reckon half of the fight is menal right? Plans Morris. A life. I need to breathe a little or else I'll get lost in our work.”

“You should be lost in our work. It's us or nothing.” He took a swig of water from his own bottle, obviously eager to get back into it. Yet you ignored his body language. 

“I should go. It's certainly late enough.” You mumbled the last part and got off the mat. With a small goodbye wave to Gerard you headed towards the locker room. Yet when you reached the corridor which lead towards it a hand suddenly yanked your arm. 

Gerald looked you in the eye with a look you couldn't quite gauge. It wasn't quite fury but more akin to authority. Control. “Cancel your plans rookie.”

“No.”

“No?” 

“No. I need to just let loose for a moment. I need to relax.”

“You need to train more if you want to stay alive. I think that's a little more important than putting on a cocktail dress and getting wasted like a whore.” He mocked.

Your hand went slap him but he caught your wrist and pinned it to the wall. He took a step towards you and used his body to sandwich you against it. For a moment neither of you spoke. Each time you breathed his chest would press against your while your eyes remained locked on his. 

“You can't speak to me like that.” You finally found the courage to speak. 

“I don't think your in a position to make demands are you sweetheart?” 

At his question silence ring in your ears and you were painfully aware the pair of you were the only ones left in the room, hell even the building. His free hand came down to your chin. “I don't know how you have lasted this long. Sweet thing like you.” 

Your brows narrowed at him. He had been in combat with you, he had seen what you could do. But you had to admit hand to hand was your weakness. The possibility that he was trying to rile you up did occur to you and you studied his face. There were a lot of things people had said to describe you sweet was not one of them. “No one gets close enough to take me.”

Gerald hummed and his body pressed against you. No longer did you breath to touch him, his entire body was for against yours and you could feel his warmth through his shirt and your bra. “This job swallows people. I have to have time to remember I'm a person.” Your voice was practically a whisper as his lips brushed against yours. 

“I can show you that. Cancel your plans with your friends. Stay here. We can take it easy and be productive.” 

“I never said I was going out with friends.” Each time you spoke your lips brushed against his and you could feel his breath on your face. 

His eyes flicked to your lips and then his lips were firmly against yours. With a moan you kissed back against him. He kissed like he fought, hard and full of passion like his life depended on it. His lips were consuming, controlling and demanded everything from you. With your free hand you found the back of his neck and tangled your fingers into his hair before you yanked his head back. 

Gerald let out a groan that seemed to ignite in his eyes and he stared at you. 

“We can't.” You whispered. 

“Why not?” He let go of your wrist and parted slightly from you. 

“You’re my superior.” 

“Trust me, that won't affect anything.”

“You’re- you're married. You have a wife and kids. You love your family and I'm not going to ruin that. I'm not going to be the other woman.” Despite how bad you wished to continue, you pushed on his chest and slipped away from him. 

“Europa.” Your nickname fell from his lips like a prayer. Lips that had been just previously against yours. Lips that you ached for, your body so cold now that his was gone. 

“I won’t tell anyone. I care about you too much for that. A moment of weakness.” You swallowed and looked to the floor. He repeated the name again but this time was a little bit closer. 

“Go spend time with your wife Morris. I'll improve on my own time.” 

-

2021

The sun was almost painfully bright, your body disobeyed your commands. Weak in your own skin it took almost your entire strength to move. Each breath was heavy as you sat up and attempted to look around. 

It was obvious you were in a hospital and you let out a little groan. The fucking grenade. You had seen it and reacted a little too slow. The metal table had taken the brunt of the impact but you had still been sent flying. A breath left your lips. Morris would no doubt give you a hard time about the matter. 

There wasn't any flowers near you. Only an empty vase that hadnt been filled in a long time and a teddy bear which had ‘get well soon’ sewn on it. A layer of dust covered it and you couldn't help but wonder how long you had been there. 

When you tried to move your legs they only barely moved and you decided not to test your luck by standing up. Your eyes found the call button for a nurse and you pressed it. 

A brief curse was heard out of the open door and a few moments later a couple of nurses locked eyes with you. 

“Holy shit she's awake.”

-

2024

It had taken you three years but you were almost back to were you used to be. Your coma had left your body frail and weak but over time and therapy you managed to build your muscles and strength back up. No one from Rainbow had contacted you but you found you did have pension and quite a lot of backpay. 

That was the case until a knock tapped on your door. You had only barely heard it through the small gap of you changing songs on your phone as you worked out. “Coming!” You called and put the phone down. 

The door was opened only a crack and you peered outside. A red headed woman and an older man stood here. “No soliciting.” You went to close the door before the woman jumped into action and called your name. 

Still you went to close the door. 

“Europa!” She called and you froze. It has been a long while since anyone had called you that. “That's what they called you right? May we come in and talk?” 

Your hand went to the pistol you kept next to the door and aimed it through it. “Who the hell are you people?” 

The man pulled out his wallet and showed you his identification. GIGN. The woman fumbled for a second and did the same. FBI. 

“We're from Rainbow.” He smiled and you paused and slowly you pulled open the door and flipped your gun into your jacket. 

“I thought Rainbow disbanded.”

“It did but was reactivated in 2015.” She explained. You allowed them both inside and closed the door behind them. “My name is Doctor Gustave Ketab and this is my coworker Eliza Cohen.” 

You brought the two over to your lounge and sat down at the sofa. “I would offer you two some tea or coffee but I don't really want you in my apartment so can we cut to the chase?”

They glanced at each other before Gustave took the lead. “We heard that you recently woke up from a coma-”

“-If you call three years recently okay.” You interrupted him. “Look cool you guys got reactivated but I'm never going to be the same as I was and I've already been discharged. I'm actually quite happy living my little life here.” 

“It's not you that we are looking it's about someone you worked with.”

“You want information?” You cocked a brow. Despite having to write reports about everything you didn't blame them coming to the source, there was a lot of information that was omitted from those reports. 

Eliza pulled a folder from the inside of her coat and placed it on your coffee table. With the corner of your pinkie finger you flicked it open to be met with Gerald's face. A breath of air was sucked through your teeth and your brows shot up. A chill ran down your spine and your heart ached at the thought of him. You hadn't seen him since that night. 

“Gerald Morris. That's uh a name I haven't seen in a long time.” You looked away from a moment as you pressed your lips together. “He was my superior, my mentor I guess. What do you want to know about him?” 

Each word had your heart race and you could practically hear the blood rush in your ears. “Can you tell us what he was like?” Gustave asked. 

“A real fucking hard ass. Let me tell you he pushed you to the limit. A real bastard but he took care of me.” You swallowed. “He took care of his team. Was pretty instant on sticking to the book.”

“We're you close?” Gustave asked. 

Sweat stuck to your bra and you were sure if you were glad that you had been working out of not. “I mean yeah, he was my mentor. We were close, sure.” 

You leaned back against the sofa back and looked at them. “Why? He's not still at Rainbow is he? Should have retired by now.” You mumbled. 

“You haven't had any contact with him since waking up?” Eliza asked. 

“Last time I saw him was ah probably what ah 12 years ago? Is he okay?”

Eliza turned the page on the folder and you started to read the file properly. 

“I don't- no he wouldn't.” You frowned. “Gerald cared about his team. He wouldn't-” You cut yourself off with a frustrated sound and rose to your feet. “He wouldn't kill Bogart.” Your teeth clenched and you walked away from them. 

“I'm sorry this must be hard for you to hear-” Eliza started. 

“-We were a team. I didn't even know Daniel died.” Your voice grew quiet and you leaned on the back of the sofa. “We always had each other's backs.”

“Can you tell us anything about them?” Gustave asked. 

“What can I tell you? They were both good men. They both cared so much about helping and saving people. Both of them trained me but then again who didn't in Rainbow? I was everyone's little pet project.”

“Pet project?” Gustave prompted. 

“Everyone had something for me to improve on. With Gerald it was hand to hand, Daniel helped me with improving my marksmanship, when he had the time Six would help improve my stealth, Bishop would teach me tactics when she could, you get the idea.”

“Your record says that you were a marksman, yet you had Bogart teach you?”

“That man was insane. Definitely one of the best shots I've ever seen. I would have been a fool to overlook his help. Why did Gerald kill him?” You were fast to get the question out and be done with the small talk. 

“There's a lot that's happened. It's best if you read it.” Gustave answered and you sighed. A link blink later you sat back down on the sofa and resumed reading his file. 

For five minutes you didn't say a word. All you could do is reread the file over and over. 

“We're wonder if you would know of anything that would set him off and lead him down this path.” Eliza explained when you glanced at them. 

“I don't know. I was already in a coma when all this happened.”

“Look if there's anything at all?” Gustave leaned forward and you could see the implication behind his eyes. 

“If there's something you wish to ask, doctor, ask it.” Your nails dug into the sofa. 

“Were you sleeping with Morris?” Eliza immediately asked and the man slowly turned to face her. The question certainly wasn't subtle.

*No.” You spoke without hesitation. “I didn't sleep my way to my position if that's what you were wondering. Six brought me on because he saw the potential in me and because I was fucking good.”

A breath left your lips and you forced yourself to calm down. It was a reasonable thought, you were young and one of the only women there. “Things weren't left entirely professional though.”

“What do you mean?” Gustave asked. 

“The last time I saw him, we had an argument. He wanted me to train in overtime and I wanted to have a break that night. Things got heated and he kissed me before I rejected him.” 

“You weren't afraid of the consequences that it would have on your career? Normally rejections don't go well for most people.” Gustave asked. 

“I was more worried about the consequences it would have on him and his family to be honest. I’m not sure if I loved him.” A lie. “But I certainly cared about him and I like to think he cared about me. It wasn't a rejection based on unrequited feelings. It was a matter of circumstances. Gerald isn't that man- wasn't that type of man. He wouldn't let it affect our work life but it didn't really matter in the end did it?” You bitterly chuckled to yourself. 

“I wanted him to be happy with his family but it seems he had other ideas. I guess I didn't know him as well as I thought I did. Maybe at all.”

“Would you come back with us and speak to Gerald. We are hoping that he will open up to you.” Gustave asked. 

“Gerald isn't that type of man. His principals are always going to take priority over how he feels. I won't do jack squat and I really don't feel like being used to get a reaction out of him.”

“It-”

“-You lot seem like good operators hmm? I mean your part of Rainbow. You don't fucking need me to do your job. Figure it out.”

“Join Rainbow again. We could use your skills-” Eliza started and you barked out a laugh. 

“-Are you fucking insane? Rejoin Rainbow? I thought I made myself clear earlier. Fuck no, I just fucking said I don't want to be a puppet in your game. Do you people not listen? Is that a requirement for being a Rainbow op these days? Now I think you two have outlasted your stay.”

“He's hunting us down. Even in captivity he seems rather certain he has plans to kill us all. Currently that's 62 operators. He has the skill, the smarts and the information to do so. Every day we don't get through to him is another day that he gets close to accomplishing that goal.” Eliza leaned forward and you could heard the desperation in her voice, the slight crack in it. 

“These are our people. Our friends and right now your one of our biggest leads.” Gustave backed her up. 

“What about his wife and kids? Did you dangle them in front of his face too?*

“Non. They believe he is dead, it's nicer that way.”

“Why not just let me believe the same?”

They didn't answer you and you sighed. “I will talk to him but I'm not being your puppet. I will say what I want to say to him and what I want him to answer. There's not going to be any integration room or one way mirror. No cameras. I want to talk with him normally in a fucking room.”

Gustave started to make a sound of protest but Eliza spoke. 

“Done.”

“May we request someone to be there with you? For your safety. At least.” Gustave asked. 

“No. I told you. This is for me. Not for you, say what you want afterwards I don't care. I'm not being your puppet.” 

“Okay.” Eliza nodded and stood up. Gustave didn't seem happy but didn't complain. “Here's a flight back to base, we will meet you there.”

“At Hereford?”

“Yes.”

-

It was strange being back. Somehow the place was completely different but almost exactly the same at the same time. A guest lanyard stayed around your neck as one of the operators showed you around. 

“Here's were you will be staying. It's close to the SASR ops but the walls are pretty thick.”

“Thanks Campbell.” He opened the door and you dumped your duffle back on the bed. There wasn't much for you to take. 

“Please call me Miles.” He smiled warmly. “If you have any questions feel free to hit me up.”

“Alright thanks.” He left the room and you were finally alone. There wasnt anything to unpack, you prefered to keep everything in your bag. The only thing you did get out was a chunky bracelet which you put on and his beneath your hoodie. 

Ten minutes later there was a knock of your door and you promptly opened it. “Cohen.” 

“Normally I would have done this tomorrow but I doubt you really want to wait that long.” 

She started to lead you down the hallway. “There's not a lot of places he can go unsupervised so I'm afraid we have to put him into an integration room if you want to be in the same room with him.”

You started to protest but she continued on.  

“I know this isn't what you agreed to but we can turn off the cameras and the one way mirror. No one will be there with you, you will have complete privacy. It wasn't easy to get you the department leads protested a lot.” 

“...Thanks.” You weren't very overly grateful but it seemed like the right thing to say. 

“You have fifteen minutes and if we don't hear from you someone will come in after. Knock four times when you're ready to leave.”

The pair of you reached the interrogation room relatively fast at her slightly uncomfortable fast walking pace. “He's already in there.”

She looked towards the door. “Black out will happen when you go in.” 

You opened the door and walked inside. The first thing you noticed was the one way mirror turned clear and then the orange light from the camera turned off. Behind your hoodie you hid and sat down opposite to Gerald. 

He didn't say anything, he didn't seem to care about your presence. You took the bracelet off your wrist and placed it in the middle of the table before you clicked the switch on the side of it. 

Curiosity got the better of the man and he spoke up. “What's this?”

“It's known as the bracket of silence. It's microphone jammer.” You looked at hima nd brought your hoodie down. Right away his face softened up and his lips parted slightly. 

“You’re awake.” His chained hand reached towards your face, specificly the scar that had formed on the side of your head. You flinched slightly when he touched you but didn't stop him. 

“Of all the time for you to wake up, it's now.” He seemed frustrated by the thought. 

“I've been awake for three years now.” 

His brows narrowed and he pulled back his hand. 

“Been doing physical therapy and shit like that. Maybe if you visited you would have known-”

“I visited.” His voice raised before he swallowed and repeated himself quieter. “I visited you whenever I could even after Rainbow collapsed. Even after I faked my death I visited you. But after 7 years…”

“You gave up hope?” 

“I accepted that you weren't waking up. I had someone who was supposed to keep an eye on you but it seems like I'm going to have to have a long conversation with them after this if it slipped that you were out of hospital for three years.” His first clenched and his jaw tightened. 

“Does it matter? From the sounds of it, your hunting down all of Rainbow anyway-”

“No, not Rainbow. Not us, those imposters who parade in our name. I could have helped you, I should have been there to guide you-”

“When? In between your terrorist hobbies? In between killing Bohem? Cause it sounds to me like you are killing us-”

“That was an unfortunate sacrifice I didn't have a choice-”

“You always have a choice!” You slammed your hands on the metal desk. “He was out leader, our commander, my mentor, our friend.” Your voice choked nd you looked away. “You made the decision to kill him.”

“You weren't there.” He growled. 

“No shit I was in a fucking coma but it doesn't change the fact you killed him.”

“They set you up!” He jumped up from the table. 

“What?”

“They set you up. Your mission I read-”

“-No I fucked up. I didn't react fast enough.”

“Just listen to me for one moment, woman!” His loud voice had you paused and you nodded for him to continue. “Your entire mission was fucked the moment you got it. There was no possible way that you could have completed it alive. I'm surprised you even completed the objective. Not because your bad, far from it. The mission was stacked against you. They should have sent in more people with you. It wasn't fair to you and they were going to leave you behind when you failed.”

“How am I here then?”

“Because I found out about it. I was on your extraction heli and went in after you when you went dark.” 

Silence grew between the pair of you as you absorbed the information. “Aren't you tired of being a pawn?”

“Yes.” You looked him in the eye. “I am. Which is why I'm in my retirement. Something you could have done.”

“I couldn't just retire.” 

“Why not? You could have been happy with your family. You would have been an honorable man who finished his time.”

“There's still too much work left to do.”

“What? Killing the next generation? Doesn't sound like work. It sounds like you're a bitter old bastard who can't let things go.” 

Gerald stood up for his chair with fury in his eyes and you continued. “You know they offered me a job. If I took it would you kill me too? If I was there instead of Daniel would you have killed me?”

“No. No it wouldn't have reached that. You would have listened to me.”

“Would I?” You titled your head as you challenged him. Slowly you walked around the table until you were next to him and looked at you. “I told you once that I needed breaks because this job could swallow you whole and this is exactly what I meant. I think you need therapy. Proper therapy where you want it to work. 

I think if I was there that day you would have put me in the ground the same way you would put me in the ground now if I got in your way because you see people not as people anymore but pieces. Pieces in the game where only you can win.  It will never be enough though, how far will your righteous crusade go? How many lives must be taken until you're satisfied? Fuck it let's make it a little easier huh.” You grabbed his hand and brought it to your throat. 

“Kill me. That's what you do right? Kill your own people. Betray those you're close to. Who else was closer to you in my team but me right?” 

Gerald stared at you and you watched as the clockwork behind his eyes turned. He blinked and you could tell right away he was back in control of the situation. 

His hand tightened around your neck but he didn't choke you, it was just to hold you. This thumb gently stroked your jugular before he pushed you back against the wall. Gerald's eyes lined with yours and his lips parted. 

“I wouldn't have killed you. Maybe you wouldn't have listened but I never would have had a reason to kill you. I could disarm you with ease. If I had to I would have taken you with me. I would have kept you safe.” He came closer in a proximity that reminded you of last time. 

“You're not a threat to me, you've never been. I couldn't kill you back then for that same reason I won't kill you now. It's the same reason why you wouldn't have killed me if you were in Daniel’s position. You’re not a threat to me.” The repeated phrase of your own words had your hand clench into a fist. You weren't sure what pissed you off more, that or the fact that he didn't take you as a threat. 

“I hate you.” You whispered as his lips brushed against yours. 

“No you don't. I can tell you want to, you really want to but you don't.” His hand moved from your throat up to you jaw where he used it to hold your face as his lips connected with yours. 

His lips moved slowly against your but firmly. It was like he was testing the waters but savouring every last second of it. “You would have done so well at my side.” He mumbled as he parted, his facial hair still brushing against you. “Bishop was wrong to sign you off on that mission. She should have sent me with you.” His other hand cupped the other side of your face. 

“I completed the objective, that was a solo mission for a reason. Bishop’s tactics worked.”

His fists slammed on the wall above your head and the chain on the cuffs rattled. 

“It would have cost you your life.” He hissed and his eyes pointed at yours. You looked away from him and you heard him sigh. Slowly you looked back at him. Gerald calmed himself with a deep breath and his forehead met yours where he gently rested it. 

“It already stole a decade from you. The risk of a solo insertion was too high. I should have been there.” Gerald's voice was quiet. The bottom of his face pushed forward and once again his lips were against yours. Once again there was a sense of slow urgency, as if he couldn't properly speak. Like somehow those kisses could make it better, that they couldn't explain matters. 

“But you weren't.” You whispered when he parted. You ducked down from under his arms and went towards the table. “You weren't there Morris. I went into a coma and you betrayed Rainbow. You became the very thing we were supposed to stop. I heard the stories, how are you any better than Nowak?”

“Nowak was an incompetent arrogant asshole who turned traitor because he didn't have any self worth.” He spun around and grabbed your wrist. 

“Well you have three of those traits down don't you?” You snatched your wrist back and turned away from him dead set on the door. 

“Europa.” 

“You know I think I would have preferred it if they just told me you died. It would have been kinder.”

He called out your name once, twice but didn't move to stop you. 

You took a few steps toward the door and knocked four times. The door soon swung open and you didn't look back. 

[veliseraptor]

August Reading Recap

Godkiller and Sunbringer by Hannah Kaner. I enjoyed these both (I mean, clearly, I read the sequel), though the first probably more than the second. The author is doing some interesting things with her world-building, though I have a little bit of a time figuring out what's going on with her naming conventions (which isn't that important, except in the ways it is). I'm definitely curious to see where it goes and will be reading the third one, but ultimately my verdict on this series is more "solid" than "good." Positive! But not, like, enthusiastically recommending to all and sundry.

Chain-Gang All-Stars by Nana Kwame Adjei-Brenyah. This book had the seeds of a good book in it, and it almost lived up to that when it wasn't being unbearably didactic in the most heavy-handed way possible, footnotes and all. When the author focused on the characters and the dynamics between them, I could see a good story there, but it kept getting spoiled for me by being hit over the head with a message that I (admittedly) already agree with. I liked the collection of short stories by the same author much better.

Messalina: Empress, Adulteress, Libertine: The Story of the Most Notorious Woman of the Roman World by Honor Cargill-Martin. This was a solid book but felt like it could've been an article rather than a full-length book. It was a little stretched for what it was, though I appreciated the way the author analyzed primary sources. As always, I am here for an author who recognizes the specific angles of unreliability of Roman histories and works with that to inform their analysis (not just throwing their hands up in defeat but also not taking things at face value). But yeah. Would've been, in my opinion, a better article than a book.

Remnants of Filth vol. 4 by Rou Bao Bu Chi Rou. This book just keeps getting better in a lot of ways. The revelation about Gu Mang's betrayal was a little bit disappointing in some ways but also fun and crunchy in others, and the general storyline is still compelling me. I think I like Meatbun's writing and narrative interests. I have come to this conclusion based on 1.5 novels, though, which is a relatively small sample size. I continue to feel like this is one worth recommending.

The Children of Red Peak by Craig DiLouie. I feel like Craig DiLouie wants his books to be complex and deep horror and falls short of the "complex" part in particular. The funniest part of this book was the part where the sound of a shofar was the ~scary, foreign, sound of unimaginable power~ when I was like. I hear this every year. A guy named Marty blows one.

As you might be able to tell, I was unimpressed.

The Husky and His White Cat Shizun vol. 6 by Rou Bao Bu Chi Rou. One thing I can definitively say for 2ha is that it has the hottest sex of any danmei I've read so far, and this volume definitely delivered on that. We're also moving into the arc that really gets me going so I'm very excited for the next volume and its Revelations; Mo Ran's increasing anxiety is very good for me, even above and beyond the sex.

The Dawn of Everything: A New History of Humanity by David Graeber and David Wengrow. I was so ready to be annoyed by this book, and I was still annoyed by this book in places, but overall I ended up appreciating it far more than I expected to. The counter-narrative it provides feels grounded in evidence and certainly is refreshing in its emphasis on a non-teleological look at history; I think they still fell a little bit into the trap of a glorious past and a fall that they're critiquing but certainly less so than the prevailing story. I want more people I know to read it so I can talk about it, which is also a (generally) positive thing for me to feel about a book; it may not mean I liked it but it does mean it provoked thought.

In the Shadow of the Gods: The Emperor in World History by Dominic Lieven. It's actually been a while since I DNFed a book, but I didn't finish this one. The sentence structure was already bothering me and then there were a couple (relatively) insignificant errors that pushed me the rest of the way over the edge. It seemed like it was going to end up being a relatively basic chronological overview of a number of emperors, however, rather than being more about the emperor as concept or idea, which I would've been more interested in. The fact that he kept comparing emperors to modern CEOs didn't exactly endear me to the book, either.

I'm currently reading To Shape a Dragon's Breath, with The Ratline and The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay (I promise, @ameliarating!) on the docket next. I wanted to reread The Last Unicorn but then I discovered that my copy has a big ol' chunk taken out of one of the pages, so that was a bummer.

We'll see what else turns up - I have The Spear Cuts Through Water and Dreadful out from the library, so those will probably be proximate reads as well.

[writtenontheport]

Walk Me Home?

George Karim x (gn) Reader

Pt. 4: Somewhere in Between (pt. 1) (pt. 2) (pt. 3)

Warnings/Tags: Bit description heavy, Lockwood and co friendship, Shorter than usual I’m so sorry 😭, This part is more of like… it’s a buildup to the next part, That part oooooh I have something for it!!, Quite a few things actually, but this part is mostly build up, Rising Action kinda move 🤞, Mild arguing and swearing, Slow Burn (LMAO!!) , The characters are quite ooc in this one, They are all INCREDIBLY SILLY ⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️

Notes: I usually write longer I promise it’s just that I’ve been struggling to write a bit!! Mostly why I took that break yesterday, but I needed to at least get this lore important part out 🤞🤞 I needed reader to meet Lucy and Lockwood for what I’m scheming to do in the next part… This series is SO self indulgent my silly ass is cackling. I imagined book Lockwood and his silly ass and couldn’t stop thinking about the characters acting as genuine, embarrassing people and like— I’m sorry Lucy my love… you got sillified.

Summary: You meet George’s friends and it goes as well and as horribly as he thought it would. Just for today, the library can rest.

When George first introduced you to Lucy and Lockwood, he already knew you all would hit it off. At first you were nervous; your smile wobbly as you kept yourself small, so George linked pinkies with you and didn’t let go until he was sure you were ok. From the corner of his eye he could see your expression turn soft and adoring, grateful in the way you tighten your knuckle around his. From there you found enough confidence to ease yourself into their dynamics.

Lucy adored having you around. George wondered if having her whole life defined by the problem made her crave for some sense of what normalcy they were owed growing up. He was lucky enough to find it with you in the library and in cobble-steeped walks before curfew, but Lucy’s never really had that with anyone.

Watching you both chatter away from him and Lockwood, he’s glad she could find it in you, too. She seemed relaxed whenever she sat beside you, and her voice was filled with more wonder than he had heard since they’d met. Often times, Lucy would whisper something that had you ducking your head coyly, avoiding George’s eyes. He didn’t know what that was about, but the self-satisfied smirk Lucy had after made him rather suspicious.

Lucy would tell him (after he had walked you home) that he did good finding you and confirmed that she had immediately been taken with you and wanted to be friends. Something in George felt reassured when she insisted ‘only friends’, but she did so with a teasing smile that had him glaring at her playfully.

Lockwood took to treating you like you’ve always been one of them, ever kind and charming as he always was. He was fascinated with news about the world at large (ever the gossip), and seemed to eat up anything you could tell him about what life was like without ghosts on the streets. Whenever Lucy wasn’t hogging you, Lockwood was either having you tell your own anecdotes or sharing his newspaper clippings. He certainly looked the part of a child dragging about their new friend to play, puffing his chest proudly with every framed photo he showed off.

When George asked him about what he thought of you, Lockwood clicked his tongue and whined at him for not bringing you sooner. That was a very good sign, but it was terrible for George because Lockwood had gone a 30 minute spiel about who knows what (George tuned him out at some point early on).

A lot of the time you spent visiting, though, the two of them teased you and George as they asked for the details George refused to share. It surprised you to know that he hadn’t even told them about the nature of your first meeting before he mimed zipping his mouth shut and you grinned.

“Yes, well, I’ve actually forgotten,” You hummed, linking your pinky with George’s under the table.

You all moved to the dining table near the end of your visit to Portland Row, eating biscuits and drinking tea. George made sure to tell you about the one biscuit rule, but occasionally turned a blind eye when Lucy or Lockwood offered you an extra. They shot him knowing looks he refused to meet while he focused on the comfort of your voice.

“Really?” Lucy asks amusedly, raising a brow, “From the one thing George’s told us, it doesn’t sound forgettable.”

“What’d he say about it?” You were genuinely curious, leaning in with a wide smile.

Lockwood, ever excitable, added, “Well, it was very strange. Said something about owing you shoes apparently? You don’t suddenly owe someone new shoes just after meeting them.”

“George has never owed me shoes,” You balk, turning to eye George, “And he should know it absolutely wasn’t his fault what happened to my shoes.”

George simply sips on his tea as his pinky squeezes at yours, your searching gaze softening into a smile.

“Have you seen a ghost yet?” Lockwood asks, a bit out of the blue.

Beside you, George cuts him off with a stern reply and Lucy leans in to whisper to you in the midst of George’s and Lockwood’s argument.

“Has he actually not shown you any ghosts yet? I would have thought he might’ve. ” Her eyes twinkled in mischief.

“I haven’t seen a single ghost since meeting George. Mind taking me to see one one day, Lucy? Let’s leave these two bickering and have a day of our own,” You suggested, reaching over the table to offer a hand.

She takes it, and with a smirk says, “Any day, just tell me when and where.”

Little did you know that there was a ghost right under your nose in a little glass jar somewhere in the house; that she had meant that literally.

Lucy and Lockwood send you and George off like kids do with Santa after Christmas; George can’t seem to get enough of your smile all the while. He doesn’t deign the two’s teasing with a response before he’s grabbing your hand and dragging you down the sidewalk away from them, giggling and laughing as you rushed along.

Neither of you bring up the fact that this was entirely new, you simply slid your hand into his proper and followed along with a coy grin. George did the best he could to hide the growing uptick of his lips by keeping his eyes away from where yours focused on him fully.

“That went well,” George says, clearing his throat. You bit your lip and shrugged, bumping his shoulder with yours in a motion that has him glaring at you. It’s a playful thing as much as it is a warning, and try as he might you know damn well George could easily find ways to get back at you if you pulled a prank on him. The glaring eases up quickly, but the tenderness in his eyes doesn’t; it’s almost dizzying if it wasn’t so adoring.

“Lucy promised to take me to see a ghost one of these days,” You hum, watching his expression fall into absolute vehemence.

“Absolutely not. I already have to deal with those two risking their lives every case already.”

“It won’t be on a case…” You grumble under your breath, kicking at a stray rock he watches tumble far off to the side. “I wouldn’t want to get in the way of your work like that. Plus, you could come! I’m sure Lucy won’t mind.”

He pretends to think on it, shrugging with his brows raised in the little motion that says he could be convinced. It’s a good enough sign for you when he finally concedes; “As long as Lockwood doesn’t come with. He’d somehow convince us all to make it some suicidal mission to take down London’s ghosts for fame again.”

“Again?” You balk, squeezing George’s hand in worry, “George, what do you mean again?”

A/N: I know I usually start and end it off at the library and at reader’s (temporary) home, but I just… I had to get this meeting out for now!! I needed reader to meet Lucy and Lockwood it was important!!! I promise this is plot relevant

[froggyphycosis]

Me and you outlined in stars PT1

Cassanda Jones/April O'Niel

Hurt/comfort fic!

4411 words

Summary

It's been 4 months since the invasion and Cassandra needs to to follow through on her promise! She's taking April to the bowling alley on a totally not at all date! Unfortunately Cassandra has feelings and is not great at expressing them good or bad.... And this gets her into more trouble than she likes to admit, especially when it comes to people being rude to April. Thankfully April is caring and would litterally do anything to make Cassandra feel better.

Hurt/comfort fic

Its pretty angsty at the end of this first part (kinda???) but the second part is complete tooth rotting fluff cuddles, love and comfort don't you worry honey <3333

Content warnings!

Swearing/strong language (it's Cassandra I mean come on)

Violence/depictions of violence

Blood

Depictions of alcohol

Suggestive hints at weed (it's one sentence and it only hints)

__________________________________

April Stomps up the stairs to her apartment building so hard Cassandra's distantly worries she might break them.

She hasn't spoken to her the entire way home. The only thing stopping Cassandra from grabbing her shoulders and begging April to talk to her, is her soft hand entwined in Cassandra's rough and calloughesed ones.

God she was so so stupid

April deserves to be mad at her, she does, she does, she *does*. Cassandra has messed up yet again. Yet she can't help the sinking, childish, feeling that this is all unfair somehow. But she had promised April she wouldn't get into anymore fights.

Years ago, after the shredder, they became friends really quickly, and after losing both her father figures and general purpose in life, April became her rock to lean on, and April was ecstatic to have a human friend. They grew to care about eachother really quickly, but Cassandra would frequently show up to her house covered in blood and battered to all living hell and naturally, as is with friends, April disliked that a lot. And even though Cassandra hasnt lived a day since she was 9 without fighting she promised she'd try and control her temper better, she promised she was going to try so hard for April.

And despite the occasional mess up, April never got this mad.

Cassandra likes her so much, more than anyone she's ever known... *Differently* to anyone she's ever known, and those feelings are difficult to navigate on a *normal* day. But with the blood dripping down her face and the angry way April's face is set, she feels like she's drowning in it.

Fuck everything was fine?? how the hell had she fucked up so bad???

_________________________________________

It had been 4 months since the invasion.

4 whole long, and very tiresome, but productive months. The city had been putting itself back together pretty officiantly much quicker and officiantly in fact, than Cassandra would have even thought possible. The city wasn't even fully fixed yet, but people were still out and about, moving on with their lives, finding work and good in the small places.

The city that never sleeps, Cassandra could certainly attest to that now.

But on the up side! Places were starting to open up again! Restaurants and shops, homes and hospitals, all the nesscesities of living and thriving were coming back, and even places that weren't, places just for fun! And much as Cassandra has been revelling in all the battles with leftover Kraang, she's got to say she pretty glad they were finally reclaiming their lives, the feeling of normality was slowly but surely seeping back into the city and the peace was settling again.

Aaaaaaand most importantly of course, over April and her family.

Cassandra could see how hard she had struggled under the weight of everything that had happened during those 4 months, healing and progress happened, but life still took its tole. Ones little brothers almost dying and having the fate of the world on your shoulders will do that to a person. It tore her apart not beung able to help.

Although April went outside for meds and food runs during that time, she hadnt really gone out and done anything *fun* or relaxing, to busy with making sure her brothers were healing up all right to do so.

She pretty much lived with them during the aftermath, even neglecting time with her mother over it and not explaining why, Cassandra herself had only seen her once briefly just a month after it all.

April was grabbing supplies for her brothers, not even noticing Cassandra till she put a hand on her shoulder. She had cried and given Cassandra the nicest, warmest hug she's ever recieve, and April fretted and told her how worried she was, and how much she missed her. Then proceeded to cry even more when she had to go back home because she didn't want to leave the older teen, but Cassandra had given her the pack of ice cream she bought (last on the shelf) and held her hand shortly, promising to 'take her out somewhere nice once everything calms down'.

And now since that moment in the ice-cream section of the frozen isle, 2 months ago, it was finally that moment and Cassandra was extatic.

Leo had finally healed up a little bit and was now preoccupied with his little rabbit friend. Mikey was training up his mystic powers with Draxum and going out to do spray painting art again, his hands finally stopped hurting and tremors were light even on the worst days. Donnie was working on his own tech instead of upgrading medical equipment, and all the small cuts on his shell had healed up.

And Raph was doing training to make up for the lack of vision in his right eye, trying to adjust to his new disability and doing considerably well.

April almost Immediatly took up Cassandra's promise of bringing her out. Cassandras insides do somersaults if she thinks about that for to long.

And Cassandra being litterally the best person she is, found the first open bowling alley since the invasion and books. It's a really *really*nice place and she is nervous as hell. She couldn't even care less about how much this bowling alley costs, hearing how excited April was when Cassandra told her it was a bowling alley, makes it all worth it by a mile, Like a galjillion million miles,

.... yeah that was probably a real number.

April's smile always makes her feel like someone is throwing her brain in a blender, it feels like a scene in a movie when someone gets shot and all they can hear is ringing and chaos. Cassandra being the one to put it on her face is even worse, because if she's being honest it kinda feels like a solid hockey stick to the stomach WWE style.

She also prefers not to think about that either.

April always has a tendancy to make Cassandra soft and gentle, more emotional and loving than she usually allows herself to be. It was nice getting to be that way, it was nice getting to know the Cassandra she *could* have been if not for all the sadness and hurt she'd been put through.

April still believes that Cassandra can be that person, and even if she hasn't convinced her yet, she would walk across glass to try and be that person for April anyway.

She was embarrassed to admit it, but she was so excited she even brought out the orange frilly blouse Mikey bought for her birthday, its not her usual fit, but it's really nice and suits her amazingly, and honestly? Paired with her new ripped jeans and red converse, best decision she's ever made.

She looks fucking gorgeous.

Casey laughs at Cassandra from the other side of the kitchen, snapping her out of her worry induced daydreams.

"Mom stawp wowying if ywou eep pacin like tha ya gonna buwn holls thwu the cwarpet" his face is stuffed with about a half a jar of peanut butter, and the other half is smeared around his face.

Cassandra can't help the betraying gentle smile that works its way onto her face, the knot twisting inside her guts eases a little, even though she's trying to scowl at his remark. She's so glad he's comfortable with her and with eating food when he couldn't stomache anything before. She's not his Mom despite what he calls her- they both know that. But despite that they are family, and Cass loves him like a little brother.

So much so, in fact, that she will let him eat a whole jar of peanut butter Mikey style (he probably taught him that she thinks off handedly, thanks alot Mikey) in their kitchen without batting an eye.

"I'm not worrying what are you talking about?? " she snaps back without any really heat.

Casey swallows and doesn't even look up from the jar, still trying to grab the last specks of food "Suuuuuuure okay Mom sure," He smirks and Cassandra is stunned for a second with how much it reminds her of Leo's. "but let's just say for a second, that you were, hypothetically of course, worried i would again, hypothetically, say you are going out with Com- April and you know her, so there is nothing to be worried about." He looks up cocky smirk still plastered on his face. "unless of course you-"

The doorbell rings.

SHIT. APRIL'S HERE .

Cassandra snatches her keys off the counter and presses a kiss to Casey's hair getting a chirp in response.

"Okay so I bought Dino nuggets because I'm literally the best they're in the fridge just heat 'em up when you want," Cassandra pauses trying to find anything she might have missed, "Snacks have been restocked so you can have some of those.... oh! And leave my brownies alone, they are.... Special brownies.... Not for childeren.

Casey side eyes her suspiciously. Cass can't help but snicker as she walks off "Love you CJ I'll see you later!!"

"Love you Mom byyyyye!"

Cassandra opens the door swiftly and takes a look at April, getting the first good look at the younger teen in person since the invasion and is frozen still in the doorway like a block of pathetic fucking ice. April is all smiles and wide eyes, like she'd just seen her most favourite thing. She's wearing a long pale green sundress that ends at her ankles it compliments her dark skin stunningly, and the her eyes are a Fierce and warm chestnut that are striking against her red glasses.

Cassandra's neck feels like it's getting increasingly hot, it spreads like a wildfire to her face and cheeks, tipping it off onto her ears. God fucking dammit, she actually really wishes she was a block of ice right now, (granted she'd probably be a puddle on the floor if that was the case) her heart stutters in her chest painfully and she stands there completely silent taking her in.

(Leave it to April to make the loudest person in the room quiet for once)

"hey Cass you ready to go bowling?" April asks playfully bouncing on her toes seemingly oblivious to Cassandra's plight.

"Y-yeah" she breathes, her face feels like it's getting somehow increasingly hotter, which is making her more embarrassed than she all ready is.

When did she start getting embarrassed?!? Or feeling shame?!?! *THE* Cassandra jones does *NOT* feel shame NOR!! does she get EMBARRASSED!!!

"okay well that's great! because I don't know bout you but I am like, *so* excited for this!!" she squeals "I haven't done anything but stress in so long it already feels like I'm becoming Splints's age."

Cassandra can't help the laugh that sputters out of her at the comment. She grabs April's hand and darts down the stairs before she can overthink it to much.

Fuck she missed this.

____________________________

They arrive at the bowling alley a little late, courtesy of new york traffic and April resolutely sticking to road laws, stubbornly going at a snails pace for the sake of 'road safety' whoever came up with that concept deserves to be run over Cass concedes. They are still shoving eachother and stumbling around, throwing half-hearted jabs they don't really mean at one another when they get through the door. It feels like being 17 again.

The place is huge, and not surprisingly, very very full. Family's and friends celebrating survival and rehabilitation, laughing and chatting, ordering drinks occasionally at the bar which is just out of view around the corner. And eating cheap cheasy fries out a paper box with their kids. It's overly sachurine and sweet, it fills Cassandra up seeing the way April lights up when she's sees it all.

SUCCESS BITCHES WOOOOOO!!!

Music is playing quietly in the background and cheap L.e.ds softly pulse above them, it's such a disarming and comforting backdrop that it makes something tense in Cassandra's shoulders ease. She really couldn't have picked a better place, and then she gets a glance at the teenager at the front desk, he's alone so he's probably running the place by himself and he looks at them as if he wished he'd rather be anywhere else, serving anyone else. He probably does.

"hi. Welcome to Timothy's bowling alley how may I help you?" he mumbles.

"it is I!! Cassandra!! And I have booked this place for me and the wonderful lady behind me!!" she shouts pumping her fist in the air she wants to jump up and down on the spot from excitement but she refrains.

The boy glances down at his computer painfully slow. Cassandra wants to smash his face into the screen.

Kindly though.

April wouldn't like it if she was mean.

"alley 5."

They start dragging eachother hand in hand to their lane giggling and making absolute fools out of themselves the whole way. They spend the next half an hour drinking apple juice cartons and shoving eachother around playfully, getting into heated arguments about who was going to win even though Cass knew for fact April was going to win by a mile, the evidence was right infront of her. April was striking almost every round. Cassandra had strength, but her aim was as April had politely put, 'a pile of dogshit'.

Not that she minded, Cass was having the time of her life right now! Even if she is losing- which! Is a first! Cassandra lives to win at everything she can, but when April's here, laughing and joking, any sort of care she remotely had for that is out the window. Cassandra's chest feels so full she could burst and the smile that's stretched across her face is so happy and wide it starts to hurt a little.

...She is also starting to sweat from the exertion, which is kinda gross. Probably shouldn't have picked the heaviest ball every round on a day when her muscles are aching from an intense work out the day before.

She might have overestimated herself on that one....

"Yo Apricot imma go freshen up in the bathroom okay?"

April looks back at her after throwing, it's gonna be a strike she realizes and April won't even notice.

"yeah sure thing Cassy! I need to go up to the bar and order more apple juice anyway,"

April walks over and starts shuffling through Cassandra's bag for her money, not even bothering to ask first and weirdly that makes her smile, just seeing how comfortable she is. Cassandra huffs a laugh and says right as she turns to leave "I'll see you in a sec then!"

April grins "yup!" and runs off towards the bar to wait for the depressed under-paid teen to come out of hiding and serve her.

_____________________________

Now Cassandra taking waaaay to long in the bathroom is no fault of her own. She gets distracted by the pink silky soap that super easy to make bubbles with almost immediately, the wierd looks she gets for the women next to her is totally worth it too. Cassandra manages to walk out of the bathroom with most of her dignity in tact feeling refreshed and clean despite it still being a little bit to warm in the building.

She walks out to go find April in their alley and finds that she's not even there.

Okayyyyy... Odd. She's probably still getting drinks.

Cassandra's sure she was in the bathroom for a solid 15 minutes though?? Maybe the guy just hasn't come out to serve her yet? she thinks as she walks away to the bar trying not to do so with a worried jog because April's fine and she isn't going to be weird about this.

Cassandra is still thinking about it walking down the hall when she turns the corner towards the bar-

The she sees it.

Cassandra goes completely rigid in an instant.

A shock of anger so quick and hot it burns flashes through her, she has bites her lip not to say somthing she'll regret and is distantly aware of the blood pooling into her mouth.

April's back is pressed against the bar hands propped up on the edge and there's a tall man leaning over her hands laid there aswell.

He's caged her in.

Now April is almost exactly as strong as Cassandra is- almost -but she's still strong and amazing in her own respect.

April isn't in any danger.

She can see that at a glance.

But she still can't help the bout of anger so strong that it shoots itself right through her and buries itself in her chest, festering clawing at her ribcage.

Cassandra is moving forward with a single minded focus before she even realizes she's doing it.

She shoves in between the two of them so that she facing the guy directly, keeping April behind her almost pressed against her shoulder.

He looks drunk off his ass.

They would've let anyone come in here for money at the minute. Pieces of shit.

"hi," she says overly sweet with a fake smile on her face that feels misplaced and wooden "im so sorry but I don't really think my friend is comfortable with you trapping her like that I'm going to need you to apologise."

She makes a point of waiting, and not moving, and being patient, and being all the other things she supposed to be in this situation. To. This. Living. Embodiemant. Of someone. Who should die.

WAIT wait wiat wait wait.

She isn't going start a fight. She's better than that. She isn't gonna let April down more than she already has.

Her head is pounding dear fucking lord.

The smiles and soft touches of affection when Cassandra gets better, or finally gets somthing right is worth every ounce of effort she has put into healing.

Every ounce of effort to not hurt this man till he wakes up breathing through a tube that is. But this is really really pushing it, she is losing what little sense she has standing here looking at this guy sneer at her like she something ugly and undesirable. She's tired of those looks. She doesn't want to see that anymore.

God April was looking forward to this please please don't ruin it for her.

"oh yeah? And what are you gonna do if i don't?" he slurs, getting more into Cassandra's personal space than he should.

*oh just you wait and see fuckface.*

She's about to retort a reply before April stops her.

"Cassy listen to me, it's not worth it take a deep breathe for me." April's hand is warm and firm on her bicep, voice calm and smooth.

It's the same voice you would use to talk to an injured bird, patient, yet sad. Cassandra doenst reply, just clenches her teeth and fists harder, she wants to scream and hit and punch and act like someone half her age.

Fuckfuckingfuckfuckerfuckingstupiddd!

But times ticking and he has about *four consecutive fucking seconds* she decides, before she loses it with him.

"That's right listen to the hotty okay? I dont mean no troubleeee im just tryna hava good time like everyone else okay? She doesn't need some ugly ass guarrddog like you to keepen her fromm haven a good time okay?" he smirks leaning over her. His breath stinks of booze. "so how bout you take a hint and fuck off." he whispers jabbing his finger into her chest.

*well his four seconds are over!*

Cassandra swings then, using all 11 years of street fights and training and anger into one punch aimed right at his nose. It lands and she only sees a spray of red as his body twist painfully with his head and he lands on the floor.

Fucking jerk deserved it.

And wow maybe she has been doing better at not getting into fights because her knuckles actually sting from the impact. (Or maybe she really did juts hit him that hard?)

April's outraged voice popes up behind her "Casey!?!? *fuck* you can't just-"

OKAY. So, turns out, this isn't jerkface's first rodeo, because he got up pretty damn fast! And Cassandra is too shocked to react fast enough when he swings towards her, she feels the solid connection of fist to nose and the painful way her face snaps to the side putting her off balance and landing her painfully on the floor. He takes that second of weakness and uses it to stomp on her stomach as hard as he can with his boots, she can't let out more than a grunt. He's winded her and it's only by some miracle she doesn't throw up right there on the ground.

"GET OFF HER!"

April shoves him off alleviating the pressure on Cassandra's middle. He staggers away and glares at April, fists tightening.

He's going to hurt her.

He's. Going. To. Hurt. April.

She hooks her leg around his ankle, grips his trouser leg and *twists.*He lands on the floor *hard*but his boot is positioned right next to her face and he uses that by kicking her with what little force he has left in his drunken body. They grab scratch and punch and she feels like crying. Punches don't usually hurt this bad, scratches don't usually sting this much, she doesn't ever remember crying over an injury once.

And all she wants to do is watch this guy *fucking die.*

So. Why. Does. This. Feel. *So bad?????*

She's pinned him on the ground now and April's ran off, probably to call someone or just leave her, she wouldn't be surprised.

"awwww wyy you cryin princess? does it hurt want me to kiss it better?"

Oh.

She *is* crying. Oh wow. Okay, yeah she is crying *a lot.*

It doesn't seem to stop either, they're making her face sticky and she can't see properly through the mountain load that are streaming down her face.

April comes rushing back into the room with the teenage boy in tow, he's paled and is shaking like a leaf and April looks completely and utterly pissed off. She yanks Cassandra back to her feet by the blouse and then roughly grabs her elbow turning her too the exit leaving the boy stammering over the knocked out drunk on the floor.

"W-wait ma'am uh what do I uhm do about this exactly??" he splutters

April turns to look at the boy none of that unforgiving anger thaws in her eyes.

"How would I know?!?! Call one of the other employees!!" she nothing short of shouts before walking off.

She drags Cassandra down the hall around the corner, across where the alleys are, she gets a few odd stares as she's walking past, but most people are preoccupied with there own enjoyment and Cassandra is glad of that.

April drags her back outside to the car.

Cassandra is bloody, beaten, bruised and crying and it's resurfacing things Cassandra hasn't thought about in a long while, things she doesn't want to think about.

The car ride home is silent and tense.

Her only solice was the cold window of the car on her nose and the the pitch black sky against the twinkling city lights. April doesn't say a word the entire way home, just stares angrily infront of her, white knuckling the wheel.

April is so good to her despite everything she has put her and her brothers through, she has kidnapped their father, fought their youngest over a video game and accidentilly brought back an ancient demon who is also sorta their grandpa??? WHICH ALSO DESTROYED THERE HOME.

But despite this the turtles, and April especially, never held it over her.

She remembers going to their home after the battle only to find it destroyed. Gone forever swept out from under their feet so quick they could have never seen it coming. Although they were able to salvage lots of their things form the rubble thanks to Donnie's tech, many of their very precious things from childhood were gone. Comics scateboards, tech pieces, teddies bears, beanbags, Fairylights and paintings.

Just, gone.

The loss was so heavy for them that no one really cried? Just stared silently at the rubble of their home. Cassandra didn't even know what to say, she was grappling with her own loss, losing the 2 men who has felt like father's to her and her entire purpose since she was 7.

She offered them refuge in an old run down barn house that used to belong to her mom before she died, April had come along to stating that it could be a 'family holiday' of sort.

Her and April had grown so close during that time. Even if it was only for 2 months, Raph Leo and Master Splinter had been going at it constantly, so Donnie spent all his time with Mikey or more Mikey's shell since he refused to come out of it.

But that left her and April.

They went swimming down by the lake, had movie nights, all the things normal teenage girls did on summer vacation.

But star gazing was the thing they loved the most.

They would climb up on the roof in ancient oversized sweaters that were left inside the abandoned wardrobe in the hallway.

April knew every name of every star which isn't surprising given how many space movies she's watched in her lifetime, that and she grew up with Donnie.

They told eachother everything when they were underneath those stars, April knew things about her that no one else did nor would they ever know. She made Cassandra feels so special.

And underneath those stars she had made Cassandra promise to try and not get into any fights.

And she agreed.

Stupidly.

No more starting fights. No more ending them. No more getting into them full stop.

If it made April feel better she would walk across broken glass.

She had only lived with the turtles for 2 months but they felt like home, She's so glad they all came into her life even if it didn't start out great. She misses spending tine with April under the stars like she did almost 3 years ago now.

And it's strange that staring out the car window and up at New York's pitch black sky, that that's all she can think about

__________________________________________

[paragonrobits]

it occurs to me that the World of Darkness could qualify as a setting which you could argue has rebuttals to 'vampires should always be sexy and sexiness is their defining trait' sort of baked into it

the first part of it being that many vampires are not sexy. This does not include the likes of the Nosferatu or Gangrel, who generally look inhuman and not really in a sexy way (at least by the standard); sure some Nossies might merely have a repulsive aura, and some Gangrel might keep enough of a lid on it that they aren't mistaken for Garou in need of a decent bath, but they're not generally alluring.

now, they CAN be, but that's not the point of it; that one aspect of the setting means that vampires are heavily encouraged to depersonalize humans to an extreme just as a matter of survival and psychological well-being.

Vampires kill people. It's what they do. its what they are. They don't have to, but that kind of restraint is hard. It hurts. It's so much easier to just... let go, to drink your fill until you find your fangs meeting in the throat of a dead man, or woman, or child. Maybe they were a friend of yours, or even family.

It bothers you the first time.

Until you do it again, and again.

This is, in part, one thing that Humanity loss can depict; vampires killing people to survive, and while it is possible for them to retain their humanity and be more humane than any human could possibly be, its extremely difficult to maintain it, and so emotionally exhausting, and so painful that many might not find it worth the bother.

So they make small compromises here, and there. A serial killer who needs to be taken out anyway; some guy who beats his family. People no one will care if they die, and even cheer their passing.

And in terms of this setting, these compromises aren't that big a deal. But things escalate. Small compromises can, and for most vampires will, lead to bigger ones.

You need to feed the Beast. Because here's the funny thing about vampirism and sexuality in older editions; vampires don't like sex as a general rule. They can't like it. Any drive they might have had for sexual desire, or attraction, generally dies with their human lives. They might pretend otherwise, or try to retain the abiltiy to remember when they genuinely desired other people, and try so hard not to pretend that the first thing they think of when they see humans is 'MEAT'. Walking talking meat, only existing to convey blood.

So much effort, having to deal with them. Pretending to be something you're not.

And a lot of vampires build an identity of playing at it. Toreadors like to imagine themselves gliding gracefully through the ages at the top of human society, for instance, but its often shallow, and certainly hard to maintain. The personal connection is hard, and generally not something they can maintain for long by the laws of vampire society; someone who notices that the beautiful and elegant patron of the arts has looked young for over 50 years is someone who's going to put something together, and one day he disappears too. The Masquerade is kept in place by human death.

Vampires might LOOK sexy, they might be good at manipulating those feelings, and some can even be genuine about it. The question, though, is how long does that last? Probably not long, for most. It's just too hard, too exhausting to keep up for long.

Even the act of feeding is pleasurable, but not precisely sexual. It's euphoric for both (most of the time), but you are FEEDING on someone. Draining them to satisfy your own monstrous needs. You might get them addicted to the sensation, and you get addicted to them, and then one day-

You can't stop yourself in time. You feed until there's nothing left, and your friend, or lover, or something else important to you, is just so much dead meat on the floor.

How long before you stop caring?

Vampires call humans kine, or cattle, for a reason.

In the world of darkness, a vampire's defining trait is not sexiness. They can BE sexy, if they so choose. But in earlier editions they were outright incapable of having sexual desire (though they could be good at faking it), and more than anything else what they are are monsters. They're corpses hungering for the blood of the living, and they know it.

They're not like the Garou, irrational and alien forces of nature though the werewolves seem to the vampires; the Garou know what they are, and they exist for a purpose and function vital to the world. Vampires just kill people. Mages are enlightened, in their own way; changelings are functionally everything vampires WISH they were, or like to pretend they are; patrons to inspire humans, surviving off the creativity and energy of humans without (barring some of the practices of the Unseelie Court) hurting them in any way. And the other denizens have their own things going on, that make vampires look more obviously monstrous.

For vampires, maintaining an interest in sexuality is more often than not pretending to be something they're not, and can never be again.

[terraxtant]

FREYA SIEGER; THE SCARLET WITCH CHARACTER FORM

OVERVIEW 

FULL NAME: Freya Sieger  CURRENT ALIAS: The Scarlet Witch  NICKNAMES: Frey, The Witch, Lil/Little Witch ADDITIONAL ALIASES: Freya Eckhart (birth name), The Great Witch 

BIRTHDAY: Nov 14, 2003  GENDER: Cis-Female  SEXUALITY: Probably Demi-sexual, hasn’t really put thought into it PRONOUNS:  She/Her

CITIZENSHIP: Genoshan (former), American (former), Canadian (current)  SPECIES: Homo Superior (Mutant), Inhomo Supremis (Witch) AFFILIATION: Magneto (former), The X-Men BASE OF OPERATIONS: Prometheus Hall (former), X-Mansion (former), Leopold Estate (Current)

APPEARANCE & PHYSICALITY

ETHNICITY: Jewish-German, Turkish

ACCENT: Having lived amongst Americans for over a decade, she speaks mainly in an Inland North American accent now, however her original German accent still bleeds through occasionally. She also sometimes says Canadianisms like “Eh,” “Sowree,” and “Aboot”, which started as making fun of Luthor Leopold, and accidentally became part of her lexicon. 

DOMINANT HAND: Ambidextrous 

HAIR: Caramel-brown, though she does both dye it and alter it to other colours, at full use of her Chaos magic, her hair becomes a bright reddish-pink, the same colour as her magic.  

EYES: Gray (glow reddish-pink when using her powers)

BODY: She’s small and compact, and it definitely doesn’t bother her at all. She just barely reaches 5’2/ 157cm, and it haunts her. She’s tried building muscles, but it just does not work. At best she can be called athletic from all the superhero training, but she is not physically all that powerful, it’s just endurance training at this point. Without her powers, she could definitely be bested in hand-to-hand combat by a regular human. 

UNUSUAL FEATURES: Her eyes glow when using her powers, but that’s it. 

STYLE: Casual and simple, she has a preference for clean cuts and comfort, she's not all too bothered about brand names or adhering to a specific style. As long as she feels good, looks good, she’s good. She does, however, have a penchant for heels, largely due to her height and wanting to appear taller and more intimidating. 

FACECLAIM: Bahar Şahin

PERSONALITY 

Freya is fairly introverted, preferring to be on her own or in the company of a very select group of people. She also does not bother pretending to be polite, and will leave or more likely move you out of her space when she does not want to interact. She tends to be rather sarcastic and somewhat cynical, not a huge believer in Professor X's “good is in everyone” approach, not unlike either of her fathers. She doesn't really believe people should be controlled or any of that world domination crap either, mostly she just can't be bothered with that. Ruling seems like a huge pain in the ass, instead, just everyone be polite and live your own lives, like does it really matter if your neighbour is blue and has a husband and a wife? How is that your problem? 

Despite having had her earlier memories locked away, and a whole host of traumatic events, Freya’s personality has largely remained the same through her life, only maturing the unruly bits with age, but her beliefs have certainly remained the same. The only real difference between childhood, pre-memory lock Freya and the current one is the loss of her spoiled daddy’s girl traits. She’s still got a bit of that, but the spoiled part has basically vanished, since the person who indulged her every whim is no longer around to do that. 

She is incredibly stubborn, and because of her powers, can occasionally display quite the god complex, however, those she loves and values, she holds above herself, not just their lives, but their opinions too, which is best seen in her relationship with Luthor Leopold, who is effectively her foster father, and will stop rewriting the world or the room when he tells her to. She is a deeply loyal and loving person, she doesn’t love a lot, but the few she does, she’s willing to do anything for. There are no moral lines she is unwilling to cross for those she loves. The world doesn't mean anything to her if her loved ones aren't in it.

POWERS & ABILITIES 

Freya's most potent and notable ability is REALITY WARPING, her power is virtually limitless, bound only by her own imagination, and enables her to defy any and all laws of nature, and bend them entirely to her will. The exact range of her warping is unknown, she has been able to rewrite the entire world, which leaves open the probability of her being able to affect the greater universe. Unlike other reality warpers, Freya's wishes become reality itself, with only unique beings able to recall the world that existed beforehand. If she wishes for all flowers to be purple, all flowers in the world will become purple, and almost no one will notice the change. Her powers even extend to actually creating matter itself, an ability unseen in other Reality Warpers who essentially rearrange atoms already in existence, though like her, can defy the laws of physics. 

Her Reality Warping abilities work in conjunction with both her mutation and her affinity for magic, in particular CHAOS MAGIC, which she alone has been able to use with no harm to herself, making her one of the most powerful beings in existence. Of note, while she can use spells to further her warping, she is also capable of rewriting the world simply with her thoughts. As her primary power, it is unclear how many of her additional abilities she was born with, and which manifested as a result of something she wanted. A flaw of her power is that while she cannot be manipulated by a reality conjured by someone else, Freya can be confounded by naturally existing alternate realities, which she can view and visit freely with her power, and alterations that she herself has done or undone. The overlapping memories and visions can overwhelm her and thus cause her to lose control over the current reality. Her emotional state also heavily affects her powers, which can act both as a boost and a boone. Theoretically, at complete control of herself and her powers, Freya could completely rewrite reality as she sees fit, with no being in existence able to notice the change. 

Likely a mix of her mutation and magic, offensively, Freya tends to use ENERGY MANIPULATION, manifesting as red-pink forms of energy in whatever shape she needs; she can manipulate this energy freely as a projectile, lasso, a blast, etc. She has also displayed the following; Astral Projection, Clairvoyance, Duplication, Energy Transference, Flight, Force Field Generation, Gravity Manipulation, Illusion Conjuring, Invisibility, Location Tracking, Magical Awareness, Mechanical Manipulation, Elemental Manipulation, Necromancy, Power Manipulation, Power Bestowal, Power Absorption, Power Amplification, Power Negation, Telekinesis, Telepathy, Teleportation, Remote Teleportation, Portal Creation, Time Manipulation, Transmutation, and Witch Sight. There is no limitation to how many powers she can use at once, and can combine them as she requires. As stated before, it's likely that a majority of these abilities are not natural, and a result of her Reality Warping and Chaos Magic simply responding to what she was attempting to accomplish.

Aside from her powers, Freya is a polyglot, and can speak numerous languages, though, as per a number of her abilities, some of them she learned to speak because of her powers. That aside, she is fluent in German, French, Turkish, and English, having been taught by her parents, and in the years since has picked up Italian, Japanese, Arabic, and more.

She's also been trained in various forms of combat, but is not particularly skilled in it, and relies on her powers. She's similar when it comes to magic, she's learned plenty of spells, but relies on her existing powers and just augments them with magical energy as opposed to traditional spell-casting.

RELATIONSHIPS

FAMILY

Magnus Eckhart (biological father)

Meryem Eckhart née Kaya (mother)

Mikail Eckhart (elder brother)

Luthor Leopold (foster/adoptive father)

Damian Mirza (adoptive elder brother)

Lara Leopold (adoptive younger sister)

Valerie Essex (paternal half-sister)

Freya’s relationship with her biological family is somewhat complicated, mostly by the fact that she does not remember them. Before her memories were locked away, Freya loved her family very much, particularly her elder brother, and she was very close to her father, very much a “Daddy's Girl”, however, she couldn't understand her father's behaviour towards her brother and as she started getting older, she would place herself between them and try to keep her brother safe and happy, and slowly pulled away from their father. Magnus's murder of Mikail was the final straw for Freya, and she sought to utterly destroy him, resulting in the events of M-Day. Her prior memories of her mother are more fuzzy, she could recall feeling warmth and love, but not her face. Even Freya doesn't know what happened to their mother. 

Since the reversal of M-Day, she considers the Wolverines her family, Luthor appearing to her on Mount Darque Hold being her earliest memory before Professor X's mental walls started collapsing, she also has a habit of referring to him as “Professor Dad”. Since the rescue of Lara, she considers her, her younger sister and is very protective of her. She is somewhat hostile towards Damian, since he tried to kill Luthor and all, but sees him as a wayward, moron brother. They text a lot. 

As Polaris and the Scarlet Witch, Freya has crossed paths with her half-sister before, but neither were aware of their biological connection at the time.

FRIENDSHIPS 

Freya isn't all that close with those outside of her family, she is closed off and can seem to be a bit mean, but overall, she is polite enough with everyone at the Mansion, she does not permit external threats towards anyone at X-Mansion, though the main reason for that is that they matter to Professor Dad, thus they naturally matter to her to. Having said that, she does have actual friends amongst them and spends the most time with them at the Manors outside of her family, and will entrust one of them with looking after Lara in case she and Luthor are not around. 

Alex Mastronardi 

Lowkey bitchy besties, they judgemental as hell together. 

Rosaria Huntington 

Francesca Moreno 

Not a fan. Freya just does not understand her as a person at all, nor Alex’s choice of dating her after Rose? Like, Alex, buddy, you good? You having a breakdown? The fuck is this? And she's somehow become even more annoying since she and Alex got together, Freya genuinely has to dedicate a constant amount of energy to making sure she doesn't accidentally wipe Francesca out of existence due to the latter's incessant need to be an absolute nuisance. When it comes down to it though, as another X-Man (technically), Freya will protect her from external threats. Which Francesca needs to understand means that she protects you from the US government Francesca, not the Freya!

ROMANCE

Freya hasn't had too much interest in romance in her life, she's not been single the whole time, but she's never been in a serious relationship, well, she didn't consider them serious, her exes may have. She's only ever previously gone for someone she already knew and felt certain wouldn't hurt her, whether emotionally or physically, so basically others at X-Mansion and the Leopold Estate. None lasted longer than a few months, since she's difficult to get close to and will obstruct your efforts to do so.  

Jason Lowell-Richards 

Lowkey they're just funny as a couple, she starts off hating him cause he's a) an American, strike one, and b) ex-US Army, which is worse. She finds him incredibly annoying, and threatens him nearly daily. However, she does very quickly fall into a sort of situationship vibe with him, not so much the flirting stuff (which he definitely does), but while he's technically not hers, she gets real pissy and territorial if someone shows interest in him. Absolutely denies any and all feelings of jealousy, but that ken is hers. 

While not all that nice to him, at all, he does manage to upgrade himself from nuisance to “friend” in her books fairly quickly, not long after he and his sister arrived at the Leopold Estate, Freya had a little “loss of control” episode, and usually she manages to anchor herself to reality by focusing on Luthor, but in this instance the alternate reality primarily confusing her was in which he proposed killing her, so she couldn’t trust which Luthor was hers. Jason offered himself as a focus point, since he wasn’t present in the other realities, and she was able to regain control again.

HISTORY

Freya was born in the fairly new mutant-only nation of Genosha to the President, Magnus Eckhart, and his then wife Meryem Eckhart, she was their second child, but first mutant one. Freya has been capable of using her abilities since birth, levitating herself and teleporting toys to her, it’s also possible she could use her powers from the womb, since a protective shield once stopped a bullet from hitting her non-mutant mother while pregnant with her, but it’s also possible the bullet was stopped due to a knee-jerk reaction by her father. As a powerful mutant, she was very doted upon by her father, and was being raised as a golden child, but had to watch her non-mutant elder brother be at best disregarded, and at worst, abused. Despite how their father treated him, Freya loved her brother dearly, and always placed herself between him and their father, and slowly pulled away from him due to the unfair treatment of her brother.

When Freya was 11, and Mikail 20, he convinced her to use her powers to turn him into a mutant as well, as a birthday present, however, Freya was too young and quickly lost control, the atomic structure of the citizens and the Island itself starting to fluctuate. While trying to stop it, Magneto accidentally killed Mikail, which sent Freya into a rage and triggered what later became known as M-DAY. Sobbing over her brother’s corpse, Freya whispered “no more mutants”, which subsequently erased nearly all mutants from reality, either by depowering them or removing their existence. A handful of “Omega-Level” mutants retained both their powers and memories of the previous reality, including Professor X and the Wolverine, as well as Freya herself and her father, while the nation of Genosha was turned into a floating fortress named Mount Darque Hold, the former populace turned into Sentinel-like mindless creatures which surrounded the fortress and protected Freya and her imprisoned father.

The massive world rewrite used a mix of both her mutant reality warping and was her first use of Chaos Magic, which caught the attention of the Lords of Chaos and Order of the Witch, neither were successful in penetrating the defences she set around Mount Darque Hold. A number of the Lords in Chaos were depowered by Freya, seemingly permanently, and even now cannot use any form of magic. 

While the magic users failed to enter the stronghold, the Wolverine and Professor X were successful in making it past the guards and eventually to Magneto and Freya, though a month had already passed since Freya changed the world. Luthor promised that if she changed the world back, she could leave with him, and wouldn’t ever have to see Magneto again, and if she focused with Professor X’s help, she might be able to undo her brother’s death too. She believed in him and did as asked, but she was unable to completely reverse everything, a large percentage of the Genoshan population was now deceased, and the Island itself collapsed and sank into the sea. She did actually manage to save her brother, but it was unclear in the moment and she thought she failed. In the aftermath, Professor X sealed all her memories, planning to slowly unseal them over time as her control over her powers increased, and she was taken to X-Mansion with them, and her surname changed. The Fall of Genosha remains debated to this day, while Magneto attributes it to an attack by humans.

Since waking up in X-Mansion, Freya’s only prior memory was being somewhere dark and alone, and feeling terrified until Luthor appeared, halo light included, this being her sole existing memory led to her being rather attached to Luthor initially until she slowly acclimated to life at the school, though he still remains her favourite. She doesn’t call him dad, but did begin referring to him as “Professor Dad”, and that’s just stuck now. Freya is aware that her memories were locked up by Professor X because she lost control before, which she did not appreciate, but trusts Luthor, so didn’t fight him over it, but this is partly why she didn’t follow Professor X around like some other students (*cough* Rose and Alex *cough*), however, she did grow to like him over time though. 

During the Invasion, Freya was initially with Lara, and made her evacuate to the jet first, afterwards using her powers to evacuate as many people as possible, during which she witnessed the Professor’s death and wiped out a massive portion of the army before manually flying the jet, which was damaged by their weapons, across the northern border. Since the shock of the Professor's death, Freya's powers have been unstable, and the mental walls he had built shaking and crumbling, causing her to confuse alternate realities and her own past memories. She's tried rebuilding the walls herself, but since she built them, it's easier for her confounded self to remove them.

TRIVIA

Loves cats, her entire youtube history is just cat videos 

Massive fan of Villainess web novels and webtoons

Not a fan of social media, doesn’t understand it really, but did make a locked instagram profile and a whatsapp group chat for the Wolvie Fam after Lara joined the Mansion 

People tend to assume that she's also Wolverine's biological daughter, and they do have similar eyes, and no one thought to explain it to Lara for quite some time, so she was really confused by the whole Magento thing

Freya has an inexplicable hatred of America, both before and after her memories were locked away. During the X-Mansion days, she kept hurting all the Americans’ feelings by constantly calling it a bad country, at best, and it was really hard to get her to soften up or just keep her opinion to herself. Magnus could clarify that she actually got that from her mom, but he's off supervillaining or whatever and not in her life.

[centrally-unplanned]

I wanted to respond to this post from a bit ago, because I thought it was a good challenge. Certainly Japan is a wildly different country from the US, so the way it can be used sometimes as a "YIMBY model" can often be naïve. It is not YIMBY in many ways, for sure. Cowen sets out a list of ways Japan either isn't YIMBY or would have other reasons for its lower rents; as he puts it:

Yet the more I think about it, the more I tend to believe a very different proposition: Japan is in key ways a very NIMBY country, and its brand of NIMBYism has keeps real estate prices down. A corollary is this: YIMBYism gets much less credit for low Tokyo real estate prices, and furthermore the low real estate prices are a sign of something having gone wrong on the productivity side, in large part due to regulation.

So lets see how it holds up:

1. Japan has had very tough immigration restrictions.  This has eased considerably, but a) the stock matters not just the flow, and b) current Japanese migrants often are from countries such as Thailand and the Philippines, which fills in for some mid-level jobs, but does not massively boost rents.

Meh - True, though its more cultural then legal imo. But we aren't talking about Japan, we are talking about Tokyo. Tokyo has has large amounts of internal migration from the rest of Japan; meanwhile its not like NYC's net population has increased dramatically in the past 20 years from immigration. Unless immigrations have magic rent soil I'm not seeing this.

2. It is extremely difficult to learn written Japanese.  Among its other effects, this discourages high-value immigrants from settling into very high productivity service jobs in Tokyo or in Japan more generally.

Meh - definitely true! Japan needs language reform lol. But like above, immigration isn't magic rent soil, its about net people.

3. Various regulatory and legal decisions have prevented Tokyo from developing into the financial capital of Asia (haven’t you wondered  about this?).  I won’t go into all the detail here, this is the modern world so just ask ChatGPT.  I’m sure you all know that major financial centers usually lead to exorbitant rents, due to the opportunity cost of the land.

Boo - so I literally asked ChatGPT, since I was curious, and I got absolutely nothing - just vague platitudes and literally some of the other reasons from this list, like "It lacks immigration". I don't doubt some of this is true, but I don't think its a load bearing reason it isn't a financial center. Or at least don't be lazy and tell us what they are.

Which I think is relevant, to be clear - but I think might be a bit more endogenous than the article is letting on. The inability to financialize rents in Tokyo might in fact be a reason its less of a financial center!

4. So, so much of Japanese regulatory policy and culture is geared toward maintaining small retail businesses, super small in scale, and low in productivity.  They do not place much upward pressure on rents.  By the way, this is one reason why tourists find Tokyo so wonderful, but those enterprises lower productivity considerably relative to say Walmarts.  It is no accident that so many Japanese examples populate “Markets in Everything,” that they have cat and furry cafes, and so on.

Probably True - I think he is exaggerating, and like "culture" is doing a lot of work here, but its definitely true that Japan has large small business orgs that work hand-in-hand with government to shape the urban ecology for them. The big companies are doing their own thing of course, but I am open this idea for sure. Japan's business-political complex is very vast.

But of course it might all just be downstream of the rents; if rent is low, you can build whatever.

Overall, I think meh? But I think a better argument could be made - we do need more detailed understandings of how Japan's real estate market functions in relation to its urban planning. I see one or the other in a box a lot, but the interaction I think should be dug into more.

[wisteria-lodge]

snake primary + slightly burned lion secondary (bird model)

I'm pretty sure I'm a double bird, but I'd like to know your thoughts.

For my primary, the thing that matters the most to me in the entire world is my S/O, he is my top priority

I mean, I certainly hope you mean "top priority [along with myself.]

and I view everyone else as "mattering less" in a hierarchial sort of way. For instance, my best friend is just below him, and everyone else is below her. It's not that I don't like my friends and acquaintances, they just mean less to me *morally*

Interested in where you're getting Bird primary from. Because that sounds pretty Snakey.

(I would never tell anyone they "don't matter" to me though, it's incredibly mean and I care a lot about what people think of me)

Just random people? Not even *your* people. Okay, now we're starting to sound like an External primary. (Bird or Badger.)

HOWEVER, I've gotten the impression that snake primaries have a built moral system outside of "me and my people" that they can drop at a moment's notice when it comes to their people, but I feel like I'm the opposite; I really WANT to be the kind of person who's loyal no matter what, but if my S/O says things I disagree with I have to be true to myself and my beliefs and argue with him about it.

Interesting. You like Snake primaries, maybe even idealize Snake primaries. Because what you're describing is just like... a relationship. A Snake primary might agree to disagree, because in the end it doesn't matter /that much/ to them. But they'd still talk about it.

I can be pretty sensitive with him, but mostly when it's something I believe very strongly for personal reasons, though it can happen over smaller things too. I am willing to listen to his side and understand where he's coming from though, and use subjective language when arguing. And I think about it a lot afterwards, asking myself whether I was right to react the way I did or whether I should have been more mature, whether I was objectively wrong, etc.

Eeeesh. "[too] sensitive" "should have been more mature" "subjective not objective" etc.

You're allowed to feel things. You don't need to explain why you feel. You are also allowed to have a large emotional reaction over something small. (That's why I ask for small, normal, personal anecdotes, examples like that can be extremely telling.) And it just rubs me the wrong way when someone is praised for being mature, or told to be *more* mature. Maturity is a function of how long you have been on planet Earth, and how many decisions you have needed to make while there. That's it. There's no way to bootstrap that, doesn't matter how smart you are. The only way to become more mature is to live more.

I actually spend a lot of time thinking about my actions in general like this. If I come to the conclusion I'm wrong, I'll feel extremely guilty for "not being loyal enough", though I can feel this way even if I'm right, too (I am very hard on myself for no reason). I suffer from OCD, so my morals are made a lot more extreme in my mind, and only apply to me for the most part. So, if I was coming off as unhealthy, that's probably why lol

I can see that.

But, this only happens with my S/O because I trust him so much; I'm not like this around others, tending to stay quiet due to anxiety and keeping my annoyance inside.

That's burned secondary language. "I want to express myself, but I can't. So your two options are speak out (and then obsess over what you said exactly, and end up feeling guilty for speaking out even if you decide you were right.) Or say nothing, and let the annoyance build up. That's one hell of a choice, friend.

I don't think I've always been this invested in loyalty; at some point after hurting the person who was Most Important at the time, loyalty being incredibly important became ingrained in me. But when I was younger, I was a lot more passionate about injustice and got very swept up in the "sjw" stuff, tending to believe whatever I read or was told. My friends would often get annoyed with how much I'd start yelling about something, like incorrect word usage or if someone was insensitive about someone's identity.

I'm wondering if you might have a Lion secondary. You would definitely prefer to argue then keep the peace, and it sounds like when you were younger you were a lot more fiery.

"Tending to believe whatever I read or was told" is young behavior kind of in general, although it hits External primaries hardest. Although this shift from a more Lion systemto something more Snake flavored is definitely something a Bird would do.

And before that, I believed a lot of what I grew up hearing from my mother, about how my bio family only cared about "blood" while she didn't (I'm adopted and grew up not being related to anyone in my family, and therefore have strong opinions on people saying stuff like "real parents" etc). I always told myself that I loved my mother even though it was clear to me that she didn't love me back, and the only way I got out of that situation was finally telling myself that I didn't have to love her and that I had to prioritize myself over everyone else if I was going to get out. I ended up being incredibly stubborn and standing my ground and repeating to myself over and over not to listen to her. Making my own judgements and forming my own opinions came with time and maturity, and I'm hoping my temper continues to dampen and I become better at patience in the future.

This is a story about a Lion secondary protecting you. This, when it really comes down to it, are what Lion secondaries are *for.* That voice that says "This far and no further. I will be stubborn, I will let anything else fall away. It doesn't matter what comes at me, I am just going to repeat what I'm doing until I get OUT." The world needs people like that.

But now you're in a less dire situation. Your Lion secondary is still protecting you, but you need some more nuanced problem-solving techniques as well.

I am closer to the rest of my family now that they have finally cut her out of their lives, because she hurt all of them. Despite her having clear favorites among us kids and having a hierarchy, and me hating that, I do the same thing. I try not to make it as obvious, though.

You're absolutely allowed to have favorite people in your life. You're even allowed to let if effect how you treat them, because everyone involved has a comparable level of power. If they have a problem, they can leave or take it up with you. A child can't do that, which is why treating specifically a child with obvious favoritism is so awful.

(I will note that I've picked up some of my S/O's morals, but only because I care about what he'd think if I did things like kill a bug instead of putting it outside or if I wasted food, etc)

Could be a Bird with a Snakey system. Could also just be a Snake.

I would say that, between abandoning my morals and abandoning my people(/person), that the latter makes me feel way more guilty.

You definitely seem to have a kind of complicated relationship with Loyalists, and Snake primaries in general. On one hand, your mother seems to be kind of a toxic Snake, and you want to make sure that you never do hierarchies in the way that *she* did. On the other hand, you kind of idolize Snakes and wish that you were a Snake, or a better Snake. You also say some things that sound kind of Bird primary, sure. But you say a LOT of things that sound Snake.

Here's my take on you. I think you're a Snake primary who spent some time kind of burned. You might have even done a controlled Burn on purpose to get away from your mother - that is absolutely something that Snakes do, and honestly it's often pretty healthy as long as they don't *stay* burned. I think that when you didn't trust your Snake you built something that felt a little more *constructed,* and you are still at a place where you think you should be a better Snake than you are (which is something I see with slightly burnt primaries.) I also think that in the places where you look really Lion is probably just your secondary getting loud.

I am pretty selfish with people when I first meet them; I often only want to engage in my own interests, and only start caring about the other person's interests and becoming more selfless once we grow closer and I see them as important to me.

Don't beat yourself up, this is just people stuff.

However, I admire people who are able to just care about everyone and be so selfless and loving. I genuinely have no idea how they do that; I have no interest in loving absolutely everyone, I just think it's very impressive that they can. I feel like they are better people than me.

It is honestly very classic for Snake primaries to think that Badgers are Just Better.

As for my secondary, I used to be more impulsive and bad at planning ahead due to a combination of immaturity and ADHD.

I feel like I'm not very good at originality and creating new things, but I AM good at taking something and modifying or improving upon it. I am often thinking of ways I can make something that's meh or already pretty good and make it even better, and will end up fiddling with it to accomplish this. This includes image editing, messing with Tumblr themes, adding things to recipes, etc. I've also learned a lot of things and picked up new skills by doing this!

This is a very Improvisational way of talking about problem solving. Lions and Snakes will often talk about wanting something that they can *respond* to, and can easily get stuck when they have to begin in a void.

I dislike lying, especially when it comes to myself, but I do tend to have "different" sides I show depending on the person I'm interacting with. I am fully myself with my S/O, and mostly myself with my best friend, and everyone else gets a watered down version of me.

This is the Lion secondary "dimmer switch" or "volume dial" metaphor. There's you, and there's slightly toned-down versions of you.

It depends on what I think they're expecting of me or how I want them to perceive me, and I may exaggerate certain parts of myself a little, but I don't l pretend to be something I'm not. And I'm making an effort to be more Me and embrace myself more after putting myself into a box for a long time.

Good. I think that's going to be really good for you.

But, after moving out and getting older, I've had to hone my ability to plan ahead and prepare for things to avoid potential problems, or just make things easier for future me. I am often thinking of plans which usually involve more abstract, unusual ways of going about things based on what is available in terms of skills, resources, people I can ask for help, etc. I've also heard that "collecting shiny people" is something bird secondaries do, and that's something I'm super known for and partially plays into the "hierarchy" stuff I mentioned earlier. I love learning about people and analyzing them; personality typologies are actually a huge interest of mine! and I love being able to know and read people.

It sounds like after moving out you built yourself a lovely Bird secondary model that you really enjoy. Good for you.

I think that's all I have to say. Thanks and hope you're having a good day!

You are very welcome, and I am having a nice day.

[glindaupland]

The Phantom of the Opera | Seoul, South Korea | 조팬텀 x 손크리 Review 4/6

October 13, 2023 - Matinée

The Phantom of the Opera | 조승우 Jo Seung-woo

Christine Daaé | 손지수 Sohn Ji-soo

Raoul, Vicomte de Chagny | 송원근 Song Won-geun

Carlotta Giudicelli | 이지영 Lee Ji-young

Final boss of ticketing, Jo Seung-woo! The last one I snatched out of the four in one single ticketing after an hour of suffering. He's a pretty big actor who sells out shows quickly and has also been in dramas and movies. By the time you make it into one of his schedules' seating charts, the seats are all grayed out. So I had to keep refreshing and playing fucking whack-a-mole with the single color specks for any released seats that would pop up. One time I even even made it all the way to confirming payment and it said someone else took it. I actually thought I was about to turn into the Joker. But I am stronger! I won! And after seeing his performance in person? It was worth the fight.

I'll start this off with this tweet:

Shoutout to the guy next to me that was in shambles crying through his binoculars I hope he lived. Admittedly I did get teary-eyed myself! Which is quite an accomplishment even if it wasn't full blown tears like when seeing Ju-taek because I thought I was immune to this show after so long! But this is like uber sad pathetic wet cat man. My seat was actually a great unobstructed view with lots of space in the aisle. The Charlotte is so small that absolutely any view here is a good one especially if you have a pair of opera glasses/binoculars. Also I was safe from the piercing screams of the ballet girls! Hurray!

Hannibal Rehearsal

I really thought "I'll only use my binoculars for the major scenes with the trio because it's too tiring to hold them up", but that was a lie because I loved observing the supporting cast and ensemble too much. This time I watched for the smaller details like Christine quietly singing along to herself on the side while Carlotta was singing 'Think of Me'. Both Christines do it, but I remembered to look for it this show :') Kim Ah-seon had been clearly still recovering from being sick the previous performances, but I think she finally had her strength again this show. I love how elegant and dignified she is and her strong line delivery

The Mirror

Hearing Raoul's voice made the Phantom shoot a dark glare towards the dressing room door. Then, with the slightest smirk, he invited Christine into the mirror. Is somebody proud they managed to swipe the girl from the pretty young rich boy tonight? Ha

First Lair | POTO / MOTN / STYDI

Even if he's like...the most sad sewer creature-y of the Phantoms he's still got his charm okay! His voice isn't very strong, but I think he was able to handle it well enough during my show. He sounds older than he is actually is to me. How do I elaborate without making it sound backhanded? Even though he struggles in some areas with his singing, I think his vocal color is still suited for the energy his Phantom has. I'm just going to have to hope you understand me 😭 Whatever he lacks in that department, he certainly makes up for it in acting. It seems like he never stops onstage, like he's always making so many little choices at every moment. So it was a bit hard to keep track of everything he did because he was constantly doing something and was really immersed. I liked the sort of dreamy delivery of the beginning lines like the whispered way he sings "어둠...속에 - in the darkness". Halfway through the song he seems to build a little more enthusiasm seeing how open she is to him. He used more soft hand movements to act out certain parts of the lyrics like both his ear and then his body when he sang 들어, 느껴 - hear it, feel it". It's like really wanted to paint a clear picture of his mysterious beautiful dark world of music for Christine. I liked when he did a gesture with his hands like energy bursting free when he sang his big note in “네 영혼 다시 태어날 순간 / The moment your soul will be reborn” (let your soul take you where you long to be). This version of the line is unique to his Phantom. He smiled a lot and although he had a bit of a slight odd nervous energy, he still managed to maintain eye contact with her most of the time. Once he finally held her, he rested his head on her shoulder and whispered his words into her ear. 👀 He looked really worried and tried to catch her when she fell. After putting the cloak on her, I think he went to touch her, but stopped himself feeling a bit nervous. He put his hand on his chest instead to finish his final note

"Fake it til you make it" was working so well until it wasn't. Whatever confidence he built up during MOTN...bye. He's a little scary at the end when he shrieks out the 'Curse you!' and an extra 'No!' But most of all he's just really sad. When he asked her "what did you hope to see?" while chasing her, his voice sounded hurt and there was fear in his eyes. Like why, why did you have to be curious when I actually had it under control somehow? He slid slowly to the ground in defeat halfway through the song when he began the crawl. He eventually stopped making an effort to cover his face on his way toward her. Maybe he was so destroyed he didn't have the energy to. I liked how natural his acting felt here. It was tragic without being over the top. But I felt this about a lot of his choices in general

All I Ask of You (Reprise)

What a sad little man, completely a wreck. He covered his ears pleading "그만 제발 그만 크리스틴 다에 ! - Stop, please stop, Christine Daaé!" There should be a Christine Daaé name drop counter for Jo Phantom. He loves to say her name!!

Why So Silent? / Notes II

Taking focus away from the main roles for a moment, André is sooo extra stressed by this point. He fumbled the score when the Phantom tossed it to him. He does this every show, but this time I only just noticed him quickly doing sign of the cross during Notes II when they were opening up letters. He got super jumpy Also, Firmin and André start laughing to each other and making silly gestures making fun of Piangi when the Phantom starts attacking him in his note, but as soon as he addresses them, oh it suddenly really wasn't funny anymore!

The Point of No Return

Somebody help this man he already got jumpy simply just hearing her start to sing. 🤭 JSW Phantom seemed like the weakest one here across from Christine. He’s writhing terribly and gripping himself He was startled the most when she was close behind and he began to tremble. But when Christine finally touches him he moaned a little. It wasn't very loud, but it definitely was there and he threw his head back. His hands reached up to his face as he looked up before he finally held hers. This proposal was a mess. He got down on one knee at one point, but then he got too freaked out and shot right back up again as if he realized it was too vulnerable of a position to be in. When he was unmasked, he didn't scream and it was actually really heartbreaking to me. Like I do love a good scream, but ouch. His face dropped and he froze in complete shock looking like he'd been stabbed in the heart. His eyes darted around for a moment seeing everyone watching him like a trapped animal. It took him a moment to snap out of his daze and run off with her.

Down Once More / Final Lair

After throwing Christine, he almost looked regretful like he realized he was too hard, but then tried to push forward. Because he was fueled by anger, he didn't hide his face away as much like usual. It was still clear he was very actively disgusted by it. He touched his face for a moment after he let go of her and then immediately wiped his hand on his thigh. This performance he was actually able to look into her eyes when giving her the bouquet instead of looking down in shame. When he picked up the mirror bride to toss her he sang his lines into her ear in a whisper and actually very gently just plopped her on the ground instead of throwing her. I love this weird little detail I won't lie...it was kinda cute and silly that he had to hop a little to reach Won-geun's neck with the lasso haha. It's not supposed to be cute but I find it cute okay. He covered his ears while crying when she was coming over to him before the kiss :( After the first kiss it looked like he put his face in her shoulder for a moment, but still didn't have his hands on her. He seemed to give in a little for a second, but then took her hand off his head, looked at it for a moment, and gently wiped it with his sleeve like he couldn't let her have his filth taint her... When he approached Raoul with the candle, he could almost barely be heard whispering "Raoul de Chagny..." slowly in a chilling way before releasing him and turning away. I think he harbors the most bitterness towards Raoul out of the Phantoms. He's the most insecure one, and Raoul is everything he'll never be. He fell and pressed his head into the ground roughly while shaking when he screamed for them to leave him. And his scream was so painful and raw I don't know how he lets that out. He stayed like this for a while before he crawled clumsily and quickly towards the monkey in desperate need of any kind of comfort. He put his forehead head against it, closed his eyes tightly and held it so closely while he sang Masquerade. Christine came back and he tried to fix his hair and clothes before going to her I think SJS Christine was a good match for his interpretation of the Phantom because of how unconditionally compassionate she is. He was very fragile and she's very caring and gentle. I think she really did view JSW Phantom as her guardian and guide and had a very pure deep kind of love for him. Maybe not romantic love, but it was very strong either way. She watched him closely in the boat as she left, but he was facing the other way gripping her veil, repeating her name over and over. He turned at the last moment and called out "Christine Daaé!" one more time to her running over to take in the sight of her one last time. His final lines are actually different from the other Phantoms. It only just hit me the other day that they're the same as the lines from the original production in 2001-2. No idea why it took me that long to make the connection, but I found it interesting enough to note!

I really want to do musical promo time, but I really don't think what's on youtube does him justice. So let me just say his 2019 Jekyll/Hyde + Sweeney Todd and his Hedwig? Incredible. There's a reason for that ticket selling power he has and I say that completely unbiased!

Also lol at the person in front of me on the plane to Seoul that was watching his movie 'The Classic' because I was like "oh hey it's you I'm seeing you in a few days"

[leohttbriar]

🍦🎨 for the ask game !

hii! <33

🍦 ⇢ name three good things about a character you hate

i think we all tend to hate badly-written characters more than characters we wouldn't like if we were in the story, so this question is kind of hard (!) because like. i don't want to find the silver-lining of bad writing? but also i guess by the end of ds9 i did sort of hate dukat for a combination of writing choices and for who that character is in the story, so...

(this is mostly about early seasons dukat)

i like that, in the story, dukat didn't become some sort of anti-hero like garak. i like that there was that comparison with garak, where neither is "reformed" but one is reflective and dynamic and accepts, and even welcomes in certain ways, the shift of power around bajor. i like that dukat was written to be genuinely concerned with power and that said power was something specific and fascistic and he took the chance to snatch at it when it was presented to him.

i like the cloying falsity dukat had with sisko and kira--always looking for an In, a way to be some sort of manipulating yes-man. like he was always operating in a sort of iannucci-death-of-stalin struggle for influence and never quite realizing that he was being laughed at and, despite his scheming, sisko and kira remain utterly unmoved. also it was very funny to witness.

i like that he was written to be the face of the backstory of the cardassian occupation--whether just as the small reminder through his presence or as a vehicle for certain plots (like the story of kira's mother). he wasn't the """charming""" nazi christoph waltz--garak was closer to that, if anyone--though he certainly tried to be charming (see point 2). it was more like: the writers knew they had to have a character there to represent the history they had written for the show's setting and dukat was, for the most part, a good character for that. like, you could see why kira didn't trust him, why she wanted to and did deck him, why she was so angry, why all the bajoran characters were so angry, and you didn't have to see any scenes directly portraying the occupation because the reality of it all was evident in dukat's disdain, insincerity, condescension, and deep lack of single grain of reflective remorse. the simple contrast of kira and dukat does a lot of work for the world-building and the fleshing out of these specific aliens and their political positioning of one another. it's interesting.

those are all sort of related but distinct enough choices for the character that warrant attention. i feel on the whole ds9 wasn't perfect at consistently giving voice to the anti-fascist themes of the story--showing and not telling doesn't always work best--but, with all the power-struggles going on within the world of the show, certain arguments solidified in the form of characters. and dukat for the most part exemplified everything a leader of people shouldn't be. he was a great foil for sisko and kira and even winn. and he felt like a person, which some fans i think have misinterpreted as "very complex," but that just means he felt lived in. familiar. not like an alien at all.

🎨 ⇢ link your favourite piece of fanart and explain why you like it

my favorite piece of fanart might be a bit selfish since this is one i asked for but i think that @matrose sort of went above and beyond on a simple ask-game drawing bc the below art is just sooo perfect to me?

i love the character arien in the silmarillion (or just, like, the tolkien legendarium, i guess, i'm not sure where else she appears) because a) female characters who invariably choose an independent life have always appealed and b) the very brief description tolkien provides of the character is genuinely stunning while also being relevant and thematic for story he builds on top of his made-up lore in the hobbit and the lord of the rings.

like: "The maiden whom the valar chose...to guide the vessel of the Sun was named Arien...[who] tended the golden flowers in the garden of Vana, and watered them with the bright dews of Laurelin [the tree that shed golden light before the Sun]... Arien the maiden was mightier than he, and she was chosen because she had not feared the heats of Laurelin, and was unhurt by them, being from the beginning a spirit of fire...not deceived [...] Too bright were the eyes of Arien... she was a naked flame, terrible in the fullness of her splendour."

not to get too into the sort of literary analysis here, the character tolkien chose for the sun was the kind that could've been corrupted, but wasn't, and who steered the Sun-ship unwavering and without fail while the world was reeling from a deeply-felt loss--a character unharmed by true heat and serving all.

and i think @matrose really captured several things about the above while reinterpreting brilliantly the symbol of this character:

the straight-backed posture, displayed in profile

the unaffected expression on the face

the way she's holding the sun behind her, as if she really is the true guide here

(though the above could be her holding the light of Laurelin before the sun was born, but either way--she is the one who can guide where that very powerful light goes)

the way there's a day and night (dawn/dusk?) version--another expression of arien's unwavering and uncorruputed character

the way the day-light is white, showing how perfectly bright and hot the sun is

the drapery! the jewelry! the way she is dressed with a specific style in the properties of sunlight

the colors of her clothes---my favorite part probably--the fact of a multicolored raiment speaks to the the depth of the character's power, the depth of the power in her charge, and the beauty that, one could say, is the driving force of like the entirety of all of tolkien's books. And she wears it like drapery!

(her raiment could be an interpretation of her pre-Sun-Ship, but again that doesn't undercut the thematics of the above detail)

her hair looks like embers

the Profile position again! because she is facing away from the viewer, so we don't have to look into her terrible eyes

it's just a really beautiful piece in my opinion and a lovely demonstration of how the artist interprets tolkien and the world <3

(i got so crazy about this fanart that i wrote a whole Extremely Weird fic about it)

anyway, i didn't want to repost matrose's art here, but everyone should please click on the link to go look at It.

[hrokkall]

I was more meaning the regions outside them but within their walls, so gluttony and greed's placement work, gluttony could be a very weird form of the rot, a sort of turbo cancer. Would gabriel be an iterator here?

Got it! In that case, I'd imagine the layers/regions would be as follows:

PRELUDE/THE MOUTH OF HELL: Inside the iterators themselves. VI's inside is most reminiscent of the Prelude (with a LOT of environmental hazards with comparatively few enemies… not a lot of creatures WANT to venture through VI even if it's the shortest path forward). Late-game area, unlike Ultrakill’s prelude

LIMBO: A "safe zone" similar to the Outskirts. Has a few paintings related to the Ancients, though only Minos can sort of read them. Most common creatures are snails, noodleflies, and lanternflies, though there’s also a small pack of scavengers who wield explosive spears (they're not outwardly hostile though… they just set shit on fire). The most dangerous creature there is a large black lizard, though it stays underground most of the time.

LUST: A moderately dangerous region where nearly every creature within exhibits some form of bioluminescence. Some of the terrain is made up of fully-intact buildings, presumably the city that used to rest atop VI (prior to the ancients' evacuation). Requires a lot of climbing to get through; certain areas are high enough to see over the wall. Formerly much safer, but has since been overrun by centipedes (similar to the canon parasites + they have the electricity present in Lust). Home of Minos.

GLUTTONY: Large swaths of worm grass that consume near-anything they touch, with the only escape being clambering over the large skeletons they leave behind. Rotten and festering, certainly but not the Rot as neither VI nor VII have experimented with it. Rain Deer used to roam here, but they’ve all seemingly disappeared, leaving only bridges of their antlers behind. Coincidentally also contains a lot of fruit if you can platform over to it properly.

GREED: A barren wasteland left untouched by the harsh storms of Rain World, though equally dangerous electrical storms are hot enough to turn the sands to glass. The only solace against the blazing sun is in the caverns below, where treasures and hordes of yellow lizards alike can be found. Venturing above ground is an option, though—if not properly camouflaged—swooping vultures will find slugcats to be an easy target. Though not particularly useful in their home region, many grappling worms can be found and brought to other regions for easy traversal around their terrain. Home of Sisyphus.

WRATH: The most similar region to its canon counterpart, a watery expanse that can either be tediously platformed over or swam through (provided the slugcat is either amphibious or has enough bubble weed). Swimming presents plenty of hazards: leeches, salamanders, and a particularly fearsome albino leviathan. Climbing over is equally harrowing, as plenty of the platforms have become overrun with blue worm grass and bits of monster kelp looking for an easy meal. There is, however, one more option of traversal: if the slugcat’s reputation with scavengers is positive enough, the Ferryman will bring them across the region for only a small fee (or for free at a large reputation cost), effectively making Wrath skippable.

HERESY: Just put everything in here. You've got miros birds. You've got red lizards. You've got equal parts poles and pole plants. Just a goddamn nightmare to traverse through. If it's red and it's menacing, it's here. Located fairly close to VI, though taking shelter within its can is ill-advised.

VIOLENCE: This layer has barely been teased so I can't say a whole ton about it, but based on the mannequins alone I'd assume it would be majority ambush-hazards. White lizards, dropwigs, the likes. Probably littered with weapons but it's clear their wielders haven't passed through in a long time.

FRAUD and TREACHERY are in the same boat. We have no information on them and I'm not about to make something up. Use your imagination :]

As for Gabriel… that's a whole other post.

[nellie-elizabeth]

Writing Patterns

Rules: Share the opening of your last ten published works or as many as you are able to see if there are any patterns!

I was tagged by @ajna-eye-cogitations, thank you!!

[A note that when I picked the last 10 published, I skipped over all my short one-shot collection fics that I've been posting for years now, since those are cases where each chapter is its own individual story. So I just stuck to stuff outside of that!]

where the real road lies

Grief doesn’t feel like anything. Or— well, it feels like a lot of things, but nothing you can pin down. Maybe it’s one of those human experiences that can only be talked about in metaphor. Like, it feels as if my heart’s being ripped out of my chest, or it feels as if someone’s scooped me out, left me hollow, plunged my very soul into darkness. It feels as if, as if, as if.

(can't) get back again

It’s not a decision either of them is actually making. That’s what Michael tells himself when it happens for the first time, that he didn’t decide and Alex didn’t decide and in fact fighting the inevitability of it would only be adding more pain into a world already saturated with suffering.

small town halloween night

Maria gets home before Rosa, on Halloween night. They’d both picked up shifts for their parents, Maria at the bar and Rosa at the diner. It’s not the worst shift Maria’s ever worked, but she can’t help but feel a little melancholy on her drive home. A whole night of watching people her age, people she went to school with, cluster together with their friends, doing cheap shots... A year ago, that had been her. A year ago, dressed up with her skin out, doing shots in her friends’ kitchen, laughing at the movies and getting rice in her hair.

tell me that we belong together

September 2011 Michael always gets a little nostalgic about Roswell right before leaving it behind for a while. School’s starting in just a couple days, and that means saying a temporary goodbye to mornings like this one, lounging in their favorite booth at the Crashdown, the sounds of Arturo making their breakfasts carrying through from the kitchen, jukebox playing some song Michael only recognizes because he’s heard it playing in this very diner countless times over the years. They have their local haunts in Albuquerque by now, but he’ll always be a hometown boy at heart, and for better or worse, this is his hometown.

a work of fine art

Quentin Coldwater has fuzzy arms. It’s one of the first things Eliot notices about him as his volunteer life model settles down on the couch, crossing said arms across his chest in a nervous, nearly defensive move. It’s like he’s trying to fold his body into an origami box so all the outside parts will be on the inside, safe from Eliot’s eyes. But looking at the man in front of him is rather the point, so Eliot looks his fill, careful to catalogue every detail, despite how he can practically feel the waves of energy coming off of Quentin’s body, the frozen full-body cringe as he attempts to deflect the attention. Eliot indulges in it, keeping his face carefully neutral instead of giving in to the smile building up inside of him at the rather lovely display. Squirmy, awkward, cute naked boy, and Eliot gets to stare at him for a full uninterrupted evening. It must be his birthday.

tales from a bookshop

The bookshop has always been something of a sacred space for Crowley. Scratch that— not sacred, certainly not sacred, who the hell said sacred, honestly. And no more is it Hell’s cosmic opposite, profane, it’s only that— well, blast it, it’s only that A.Z. Fell & Co. booksellers has always been an important place for Crowley. Significant. Precious, maybe, though even the taste of such a word makes him want to scream profanities at someone who doesn’t deserve it, just to get the tickle out the back of his throat.

Shelter

The first thing Quentin did most mornings was locate the most excitable, energy-filled dog he could find in the kennels, and take the little terror out for a brisk, damp jog. Damp, because the Seattle air always seemed to be damp no matter the temperature. Brisk, because Quentin was not a jogger and a solid twenty minutes was usually as much as the lucky canine in question was likely to get out of him. He did this because he was usually the first person to arrive at work and he didn’t feel like making awkward chit chat with the night shift people, and also because it seemed a kindness: by the time his bosses Margo and Fen had shown up after their leisurely morning coffee routine, the most excitable of their furry residents had already had some of their energy burned away by Quentin’s efforts.

under the desert sky

Beyond basic necessities, the items Alex brings with him on their trek to the Grand Canyon are a fully stocked iPod, car charger, and a stitch-bound notebook slipped into the front pocket of his backpack. Michael brings his restored Nikon FM 35mm and six rolls of film.

the lengths that i would go to

Summer 2010 It’s early, so early that the sun isn’t up, the air around him still and quiet. Alex is awake, and for a second he doesn’t quite know why. His body is conditioned to wake early each morning, but this is something different. There’s a strange awareness, where paranoia meets familiarity. Alex knows, as consciousness filters into his brain, that there’s someone else in the room with him. He also knows, without having to open his eyes, that there is no threat, because it’s Michael. The bed shifts, and Alex blinks into the dim light, looking down to see Michael crawling up the bed towards him.

it might change my memory

June 2022 It’s Bonnie, of all people, who calms everybody down. Not Isobel with her power to mentally soothe, or Dallas with his preacher training and inviting sensibility. Not Liz with her practical, scientific mindset, or Michael, the one person in this room who theoretically has all the pieces of the puzzle and actually has a chance of knowing what the fuck is going on. It’s Bonnie who cuts through the excited, confused, unintelligible babble and says, quite loudly for such a small woman: “Okay! Seems like we have a situation! Everyone should sit down. I’ll make tea.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wow, okay, this was really interesting to see! It looks like a very common approach for me is "short, catchy sentence" followed by longer paragraph expounding on it. Like -- "Grief doesn’t feel like anything." or "The bookshop has always been something of a sacred space for Crowley." or "Quentin Coldwater has fuzzy arms." This is true across all the fandoms I write in!

It's crazy that only one of these ten examples has any dialogue in it at all, because I tend to think my dialogue skills are really sharp! I should start more stories off with it lol.

Tagging whoever writes and wants to participate! @portraitofemmy, @prettyboysdontlookatexplosions, @awildwickedslip, @spiders-hth-is-an-outlier, @r-dtoblack