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theoceanandthestars · 8 months ago

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Stand By Your Man

A/N Inspired by the song ‘Stand By Your Man’ and a vanilla custard filled choux bun I had recently that I can’t stop thinking about. Apologies for any mistakes :)

Summary: After Parker, who your beginning to develop a crush on, discovers your hidden talent, you go undercover at a country bar to find a suspect.

Word Count: 2391

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You’d regretted revealing your hidden talent to Alden Parker the minute it had slipped from your lips. It was a moment of weakness on your part. You had initially rejected the agent as Gibbs’ replacement, you told yourself it was because he was too cheery and not as professional as Gibbs, but you knew that your resentment for Parker was, in reality, the manifestation of your sadness at Gibbs leaving and Parker taking his place meant that he really was gone. However, after a particularly hard case which ended with Parker offering you a vanilla custard filled choux bun from a bakery he had found on the drive back to the NCIS building. Your resentment had completely crumbled and amongst the praises for the pastry, in what you believe was a sugar induced moment of insanity, you had confessed your talent for singing to the older agent as a type of olive branch, who had been trying to encourage you to divulge a secret talent to him for the entirety of the case. The grin on his face was what immediately triggered a sense of regret within you, wishing that the pastries’ ability to loosen your lips hadn’t worked and it was that same grin that reignited that flame of regret within you 4 weeks later, when Parker told you that you would all be going undercover at a Country Bar. It was that grin that told you everything you needed to know in a matter of microseconds.

It was that grin that you could still see now as you were standing, dressed in a pair of jeans, a white flowy bell sleeved top and cowboy boots, being handed a microphone to go and sing on the stage of your suspect’s favourite hangout.

Parker had argued that it was imperative that the team could see every face within the bar in order to find the suspect and that the only way to truly do that was to have someone on stage and the rest of the team sat around the bar. You, on the other hand, had not felt the same and had rolled your eyes while Torres sniggered at your annoyance, promising to film the whole thing so he could torture you with it, following Parker’s divulgence of your talent to the rest of the team as well as his plan to catch the suspect. You had silently thanked McGee for not mentioning that he had in fact already heard you sing, (after an evening out drinking with him, DiNozzo and Bishop had led you all to a karaoke bar, which in turn had led to some very questionable renditions of many, many songs), not wanting to have to explain your karaoke too.

But as hard as you tried you couldn’t really be mad at Parker and truthfully you did think that Parker’s plan made sense, it was subtle, you could find the suspect without him realising you were looking for him and keep his attention away from whoever ended up grabbing him in the crowded bar. Over the past four weeks you had softened to Parker, accepting that while he was replacing Gibbs in terms of his job, he was so different from him that he could never take his place. You liked to think of it as a different place, just as good as Gibbs but in different ways. Unfortunately for you during the past four weeks as well as coming to terms with Gibbs’ absence and Parker’s arrival, you had started to develop a crush on your boss. A crush you were almost certain he didn’t reciprocate.

You took a breath and shook your hair slightly before returning your mind back to your current situation, thanking the man who had handed you the microphone before the band began to play the song you had chosen to sing. As the music started to flow to your ears you calmed, the familiarity of the feeling settling in. It’s not that you hate singing in front of people, it’s more that you would rather just gouge your eyes out than have to sing in-front of your co-workers and boss/crush.

‘Sometimes its hard to be a woman’, the words flowed out your mouth effortlessly. As you continued, you shifted your focus from the words you were singing to the faces in the bar, scanning each one for the face of your suspect. However, after a few lines, you realised that there was no way you could get a clear read on half the faces in the bar without getting closer.

So, despite the resistance of every fibre of your being, you stepped of the stage and started to walk around the bar as you continued to sing. At first it was just a brush of your hand to someone’s shoulder so they would lift their gaze and you could see their face, but after a minute of singing you began to get bolder. As you continued to move around the room you found yourself sliding on the edge of the booth McGee was sat at, who like you had been searching for your suspect, and found yourself wrapping your arm over his right shoulder, directing the words of the song at him, and leaning your head on his other shoulder. This elicited a chuckle as he laughed softly at you. If you were being forced to do this, you were at least going to have some fun.

After moving away from McGee, you continued to make your way through the packed bar, the eyes of all the patrons now focused entirely on you, the words of the song falling effortlessly from your lips, and unbeknownst to you wowing the entire bar full of people, including your team. Unlike Jess, who had never doubted your ability to sing, Torres was in utter disbelief, still holding his phone recording you like he had promised, but now with the knowledge that there was very little to tease you with. McGee, on the other hand, was not surprised by your beautiful singing at all, after all, he had heard you sing drunk all those years go with him, Tony and Ellie and he knew if you sounded that good while that drunk, and you had all been very drunk, that sober your voice must be angelic.

Meanwhile, Parker’s gaze had stopped moving around the bar and instead fixed itself on you. When you had admitted to him that you could sing he had thought you would instantly take it back, and from the look on your face at the time he could tell you regretted it. He knew that you, like Torres, were having trouble adjusting to him taking over from Gibbs, but over the past few weeks both of you had been getting on very well. So well in fact, that he had developed somewhat of a crush on you, however, he also convinced himself that being your boss, as well as much older than you, made this crush entirely irresponsible and wrong, besides he was almost certain that you didn’t reciprocate it. In this moment though, he couldn’t take his eyes off you. He had been stunned into silence when he had first seen your outfit as you ran into the elevator which he had just gotten into, as you were about to go to the bar. The words he wanted to say, that you looked beautiful, had sat at the back of his throat and instead he opted for a smirkish smile as he told you he liked the outfit, to which you had rolled your eyes gently while chuckling softly, trying to hide the flush of your cheeks at the fact he had even commented on the outfit. Now Parker was watching as you continued to move around the bar in his direction, admiring your voice and attempting to ignore the way his heart beat faster when you walked over to him as you sang, wrapping an arm over his shoulders as you placed yourself on his lap.

After singing a few lines of the song sitting on Parker’s lap, which was something you knew you would regret instantly the moment you did it, you forced yourself to get up and continue to search the bar as you sang. You were surprised for several reasons when you had sat on Parker’s lap. Firstly, you surprised yourself that you would do something that bold, but more importantly to you, you were surprised by Parker’s reaction, he had smiled at you, laughed softly and placed his arm around your waist, holding you close to him. An action you were sure had caused your heart to stop beating momentarily.

As you continued to sing you tried to shake the thoughts of Parker out of your mind, convincing yourself that he, like you, was undercover, he was just playing the role. Suddenly though you were snapped out of your spiralling as you caught sight of the man you had been searching for, who was staring at you. The suspect was sitting with another man, also looking directly at you. You moved over to them trying not to rush and maintain your cover.

As you reached them, you placed your hand on the man’s shoulder, turning to make eye contact with Nick, McGee, Jess and Parker, as you empathised the words of the song, ‘stand by your man’. You had chosen the song for this specific reason, that when you found the suspect, it would be easy to tell the team where he was. That and the fact that it was a short song and you didn’t want to have to sing longer than necessary.

After receiving nods from all the team, you removed your hand from his shoulder and walked back to the stage, with only a few lines left to sing. As you finished singing and the room burst into applause, the team quickly moved towards the man, their actions hidden from him by the applause, before grabbing and arresting him. The rest of the bar remained mostly oblivious thanks to the noise that was no being created.

You received a small rush from both the applause you received, and the relief that the suspect was now in custody. But as quickly as you had been handed the mic, you handed it back to the same man who had previously given it to you and rushed to the entrance of the bar to catch up with your team. As you left the bar and got outside the first thing you saw was Tim and Jess, who were putting the suspect into one of the cars, but you couldn’t see Parker or Torres. That was until you felt an arm wrap around your shoulders as Nick began to tell you how he was never actually going to tease you, which he definitely was going to do, and sang your praises. Eventually after he came down from the apparent high he was on after you singing, he jogged over to McGee, still giggling slightly, while you just shook your head and smiled.

Not a second later did Parker join you, after having disappeared somewhere, retuning with a box under his arm as he clapped softly, causing you to laugh and blush rather furiously.

‘When you told me you could sing, I assumed you could carry a tune, I didn’t expect you to have the voice of an angel.’

‘Thank you’ you blushed even more at his compliment, avoiding meeting his eyes, ‘just don’t think this will be a regular occurrence, I don’t think I could handle that’ you added pointedly.

He chuckled, ‘I don’t think it’ll be that easy, now they’ve heard you sing’, he gestured to the team, who were still chatting amongst themselves, occasionally glancing over at you and Parker, ‘they are going to try and get you to every chance they get’. This caused you both to chuckle.

‘Oh god’ you groaned, ‘I hadn’t thought of that’, eliciting yet another laugh from Parker, before he moved the box he had perched under his arm and held it in front of you.

‘But since you’ll probably never be given a break from this now, I got you this’ he stated opening the lid of the box to reveal one of the same vanilla custard filled choux buns he had given you all those weeks ago when you first confessed to him your talent.

Your eyes widened in excitement upon seeing the choux bun, taking it out the box and moaning as you took a bite of it. ‘This makes it all worth it’ you smiled, content with the pastry in your hand and completely touched by the gesture.

Meanwhile, by the van the other three agents continued to watch you and Parker after giving up on just sneaking glances at the pair of you.

‘Aww’ Jess cooed as they watched Parker give you the pastry he had bought especially for you, ‘Do you think they realise how much they like each other? Or just how obvious it is?’ she then asked the two men next to her.

‘Oh they have no clue’, answered Nick immediately, smirking as he watched you both.

‘Yeah they’re oblivious. I’m pretty sure they both think the other one doesn’t fell the same’ added Tim, returning his gaze to the two agents in front of him.

‘They’re the only ones who don’t see how much they like each other; I mean it’s pretty obvious to literally anybody else’ added Nick.

‘What’s obvious?’, you asked as you and Parker had made your way over to the three agents standing in a huddle as you continued to eat the choux bun in your hand. Jess and Tim looked like deer caught in headlights, but Nick began to smirk.

‘We were just saying how oblivious people can be sometimes’, looking directly at you and Parker who were both proving his point and being entirely oblivious, adorning expressions of confusion as he then added, ‘you know like the suspect, just sitting their not realising he was about to be arrested by the five agents in the bar.’

‘Oh right’

‘Yeah, that makes sense’.

Both yours and Parker’s answers were met with small giggles and nudges as you all began to move into the cars, which once again the pair of you where oblivious to.

Part 2?

#ncis fanfiction #alden parker #alden parker x reader #alden parker x y/n #tim mcgee #ncis #jess knight #nick torres #ncis fanfic #gary cole #x reader #slow burn #alden parker x you #alden parker imagine #alden parker oneshot

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bullet-prooflove · 10 months ago

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Valentine's Day Bingo: Kicking - Bishop Losa x Reader

Tagging: @fanfic-n-tabulous @anime-weeb-4-life @keyweegirlie @danzer8705 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @alwaysachorusgirl @beardedbarba @est1887 @oklahomapeach @mortal--soul @buddinglinguist @adaydreamaway08 @spookyboogyuniverse @librarian1002 @thanossexual @kishie8 @fleureeee @saltyunicorn079 @thebaileybugle @spaghettificationandpretzels @nu1freakshow @doggirlforever @justreblogginfics @skyesthebomb @beccabarba @legally-a-bastard @trublu2u @@lora21 @kmc1989 @jp1019 @fanfic-n-tabulous @just-a-throw-away @kabloswrld

Can be read as stand alone or a companion piece to:

Black Satin (NSFW) - Bishop discovers a surprise Christmas gift.

Gingerbread - Bishop comes home to a problem.

Snow - Bishop talks to you about something that's been on his mind.

Miracle - You and Bishop get an extra Christmas gift this year.

Hitting the Slow Dance Bingo Square

The first time Bishop feels his baby kick is during Coco and Stitche’s wedding reception. The two of you are swaying together on the dance floor, his grizzled cheek pressed against yours, eyes closed as the music serenades you. There’s no better feeling in the world than this, having you pressed up against him, the baby residing in the space between you.

You’re five months pregnant at this point, just starting to show. He spends his evenings singing lullabies to his daughter in Spanish, his lips ghosting over your skin before he gets distracted by other things.

It’s when the song changes that the baby starts to react. The band switches to something with a faster pace and he feels a tiny dig against his navel.

“Oh.” You say as you tilt your head to look up at him. “I think she’s kicking.”

You take his hand in yours, pressing his palm flat against the baby bump and he laughs when he feels the small nudge. He spends the next few minutes following his daughter’s movements before the song changes and the baby goes quiet.

“She’s strong.” He says fondly as he draws you into his arms once more. “She’s going to be exactly like you.”

“She could end up a hellion like you.” You counter and Bishop grumbles.

“I hope not.”

The last thing he wants for his daughter is for her to adopt his personality traits, he was wild as a teenager and his biggest fear is that his daughter will follow in his footsteps.

“You turned out alright in the end.” You remind him, your fingertips trailing over that sensitive little spot at the nape of his neck, the one that releases all his tension.

“With a little help.” He smiles, his forehead coming to rest upon yours.

Bishop has always been convinced that you saved him. He was a functioning alcoholic when he met you, smoking forty a day and running drugs and guns up and down the country. He’d expected to be dead before sixty, through a bullet or bike accident. He was careless with his own life, there hadn’t been much to live for after Aiden had died. He’d been in a state of depression for over eight years before he started to see the sun again.

Now he’s on the board of the community centre, he has a home, a partner, a baby on the way. He doesn’t drink anymore, he’s cut his smoking right down, he’s trying to quit before Luna arrives. The job is less risky because the club has gone legit. He’s happier than he’s ever been and he has you to thank for that.

“You saved my life.” He tells you as he cradles you close. “You saved my god damned life.”

Love Bishop? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Want more Bishop? Read his masterlist here!

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#bishop losa #bishop losa x reader #bishop losa x you #obispo losa #obispo losa x reader #obispo bishop losa #obispo losa x you

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floq · 4 months ago

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Can you explain what the whole Twenty One Pilots thing is about? I thought they were a music group but from your posts it seems like there's something else going on.

oh you want me to explain the lore

well i'll try to keep it as simple as possible. you see, the band has been telling this overarching narrative throughout their latest 4 albums (although the story does later incorporate themes from their previous albums and they seem to be connected to the lore in some way). the story is about Clancy, a citizen of this dystopian cement city known as Dema located in the fictional continent of Trench. Dema is ruled by 9 bishops which govern the city under their religion known as Vialism, this religion teaches that self destruction (suicide) is the only way to paradise, and encourge their citizens give in to Vialism and become one the Glorious Gones (this is how they call the citizens who give their lives in the name of Vialism). Nico is the ruler of the nine bishops and the main bad guy of the story.

the story is told by letters written by Clancy in which he recounts his life in Dema, how miserable he is living in there, and his attemps of escaping the city [all the letters can be found in the dmaorg website]. After he succesfully breaches outside the walls, he is tracked down by Nico and made to return back to the city. it is at this moment where he sees a group of people known as the Banditos, these are rebels that leave outside the walls, only known as legends inside Dema. they wear yellow tape around their clothes and live in camps within the wilderness of Trench. Their leader is The Torchebearer, he's the character that firsts sees Clancy and who primarily helps him throughout his journey (that ultimately culminates on overtaking Vialism and the bishops). Here the Banditos help Clancy escape from Dema once again and accept him into their rebellion.

it's all a metaphor for depression and battling your inner demons.

the story keeps going from there, but i think those are the basics to understand what the heck is going on, plus i don't want to spoil everything if you are genuinely interested on learning more. I do recommend watching the music videos related to the lore and the I Am Clancy video, that one is only 4 mins long and it recaps the story pretty well.

that's all i hope it's comprehensible,,

#this story is one of the reasons why ive been so autistically obssesed with them i fear #answered #peachdoxie #tøp #suicide tw

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anamelessfool · 10 months ago

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𝔓𝔞𝔭𝔞 ℭ𝔞𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔬 (1907-1983) and fic!

Reign 1942-1954, Satanic Bishop of New York City (1954-1983)

Everybody needs a mentor, especially delusional people like Young Nihil. So enter Papa Camino, a Papa Emeritus who is heavily influenced by Cab Calloway. (And is wearing an actual Schiaparelli silk tie from the 1950s) Notable Ghouls: Phantom, Dewdrop, Cumulus

The Path (AO3 Link)

GEN Young Nihil & OC Papa, Young Nihil & Family 3K Words

Tags: Mentor Figure, Deal With The Devil, Family Angst, 4 Year Old Primo Is In This One, This is Officially the Most Self Indulgent Fic I've Written and Yes I'm Including the Smut, Alternate History, Ghost Scenes from the Void AU, Ministry Lore and Dramaaaaa

1957, New York City: Bishop Camino always got what he wanted. And he wanted to share what he took from life with everyone he thought hungry enough to work for it. He was also a man who today invited Zero, of all the siblings in his care, to a private meeting in his office.

More Art and the Fic Below the Cut!

1957 New York City

Camino was a man who demanded what he wanted, and created for himself what he was denied. After his wildly successful tour as Papa Emeritus of the Satanic Church of the Void, he brought his expertise, his talent, and his cunning to his new post as the Satanic Bishop of New York City.

After the fourth rejection of his application to join the most prestigious gentlemen’s social club in the city (and it was definitely not because he was a Satanic Anti-Pope) Camino decided to run his own club out of the New York Ministry location. The music was hotter, the skirts were shorter and the booze flowed higher than the runoff in the gutters after a rainstorm.

The New York City chapter of the Satanic Church of the Void soon became less a place of organized worship and more the most chaotic and happening nightclub no one dared talk about in the sunshine. No act was denied, no artistic experiment too bizarre— almost twenty-four hours of the day there would be something to see for everyone. At two PM there could be a poetry reading for moody folks in black turtlenecks. At four PM was a 1920s Big Band Revival stint, six to ten PM Camino himself took command as bandleader. Midnight to two AM was reserved for drag shows. Often at three AM some interpretive dancer could be writhing on stage wrapped in tinfoil wailing about his daddy issues. It was vibrant, sometimes exhausting but never ever boring. Just like the Bishop.

And any high society man caught sneaking in would be promptly hogtied and left out in the alley with the rest of the trash.

Camino always got what he wanted. And he wanted to share what he took from life with everyone he thought hungry enough to work for it. He was also a man who today invited Zero, of all the siblings in his care, to a private meeting in his office.

As Zero sat uneasily in a plush armchair he could pick himself out from the posters and photographs covering the wood-paneled walls of the bishop’s office. He was often in the background— a blur holding a guitar, a trombone, hiding behind a mountain of drums. In six years Zero had become an established character in Camino’s church. He had stopped his rail-hopping life and settled in with a pretty blonde poetess, living just outside earshot of the church turned nightclub with a couple of potted plants and a young son. It surprised him how much he enjoyed the ebb and flow of a domestic existence. But then again, living and working in a place of constant change and noise and life and art is like wandering without ever leaving home.

“Brother Zero, I can hear your knees knocking from over here!” Bishop Camino closed the humidor cabinet and returned to his massive desk with a choice cigar. He winked his eye, his human eye. The Infernal Eye, his gift and his curse from his time as Papa, leered into Zero. It was as icy and silvery as the tools Camino used to delicately trim and light his smoke. “You'd know if you were in trouble! Relax, stay a while! How's junior?”

“Oh, swell, just swell,” said Zero, slowly uncurling himself in his seat.

“I got box seats at the Polo Grounds whenever you two want to see a game,” Camino replied. “Owner of the Giants owes me. Funny how many folks owe me, hm?”

“You're more than generous, all the time.” Zero couldn't help but feel a fondness for the man. “You helped me.”

“Alley cats are hungry, feed ‘em. Keeps the rats away. Now…” Camino noticed the smallest mote of dust on his suit, frowned deeply, and brushed it off. Camino never wore formal vestments outside of Mass, preferring instead a red silk suit with razor-sharp shoulders. Firstly because that was his look during his time as Papa Emeritus, and secondly because there was no one in New York City who would dare tell the bishop otherwise.

“Have you ever thought about the path?” He continued. Bishop Camino leaned back in his leather chair, settling in to a languid taste of his Cuban cigar. “I think you have what it takes to be Papa. Believe me, I know.”

Zero’s eyes widened, his mouth stretching open cartoonishly in shock. “You really think that?”

“Claro. Really. You've played in the house band many a time. You know more instruments than most, and catch on so quick. You're more Ghoul than man sometimes,” Camino chuckled. Zero had indeed performed for a few years in Camino's exclusive club for degenerates, and his saxophone playing was described as “a good start” which was a big compliment coming from the Bishop.

“Times are different. Big bands are out. Five pieces are in. More flexible. Digestible. What with television everywhere now.” Camino nodded. “Jazz clubs are gone, thing of the past. I'm not too proud to admit that.”

“Oh, you got more talent in your little finger than most in their whole body!” Zero piped up. “Don't sell yourself short!”

Camino gave him a wry look. “Hermano, I didn't say anything about that. Of course I'm talented. I'm the most talented motherfucker you ever saw. But times are changing. The Church needs fresh blood. And you'd be perfect for it. You got a face for television!”

Zero looked through the wooden blinds of the window, at the lines of taxis dutifully filing past. A limo turned the corner, its black and silver form sleek amongst the herd of yellow and checkerboard. Zero saw the shining sweep of the Rolls-Royce maiden perched on the hood, bowing low with her steel gossamer cloak frozen forever against the wind. A face for television, Zero thought. He never really had a television, or an actual home to plug any sort of luxury into since leaving Milwaukee, but everyone that did had the potential to see him. To hear his music. To see his face.

“That sounds swell, how would I even start?”

Camino grunted a laugh, his teeth gripping his cigar. From his place behind his massive desk he elegantly poured a finger of amber liquid from a crystal decanter into two equally opulent glasses. “Well, you have to let everyone know your intention. Even when you're not saying a word. Especially then. Your whole body must…vibrate…with that desire.”

Zero took a glass from him, nodding eagerly. “I can do that. I can vibrate with desire!”

“Naturally,” said Camino. “I'll put you in touch with Mother Imperator’s assistant, a em…a Sister Rebecca. She'll help me authorize a transfer and you can move to the heart of the Ministry.”

They clinked glasses, and Zero took a sip. It burned across his throat, tore a hole in his belly. He coughed in surprise, making every attempt to choke as politely as possible. “Move? There's somewhere else?”

“Yes, a few hours drive up north,” Camino replied. His perfectly sculpted thin moustache twitched as he frowned. “And how the hell you choking on that, boy? That's a goddamn forty year.”

Zero mumbled an apology, then felt Camino’s strong hand on his chin, jerking his face upwards for inspection. His hand was surprisingly soft, well manicured. The floral scent of hair oil drifted down from his clothing. The older man smirked, his eyes crinkling as thoughts passed through his mind. The Infernal Eye glared down at Zero from its socket in Camino’s skull, its glow removed from this realm, a separate entity also holding judgement towards him. He could have sworn the steely pinprick of a pupil moved independent from the human eye just across the bridge of the jazz singer’s nose. Zero swallowed. “Face for television,” Camino murmured, and with his other hand took a thoughtful sip of his own glass.

Zero stretched his mouth into a submissive smile. “Maybe.”

Camino gave Zero a rough pat, nearly a slap on the side of his face, and stepped away to pick up his cigar again. “Listen here, I sent my successor up to their headquarters, had them start meeting people, gather friends— boom! They're now Papa Emeritus and gaining traction in the charts every day. The trick…is to be underfoot.” Camino let out a satisfied puff of smoke. “Thing about that place is that running the Ministry is the only thing anyone can do up there in that godforsaken wilderness. So if you want something you're front and center!”

“But…moving?” Zero had just finally put roots down after a youth of wandering. He thought of Nance, of little Primo waiting for him back at their apartment. Nance with the baby on her lap as she sat by the plants on the fire escape, her red lips smiling contentedly out at the symphony of asphalt and blaring car horns.

“Fresh air, sunshine, forests and mountains,” said Camino. “Kids love it out there. At least I'm pretty certain they do.”

Camino was met with an awkward silence, and he settled into his chair, the leather offering a tired wheeze. “Yes, the city is difficult to leave,” Camino continued, steepling his fingers. He grinned. “Which is why I came back.” And promptly at midnight a town car would pick him up and drive him back to his home in Queens. “But, I've done my time, and did the work. I'm here to guide now. And I think you need to take bigger risks.”

“Nance loves it here. She was born here.” Zero smiled slightly into the middle space. “Primo was born here.”

“It's not easy raising a child in the city, believe me. My sisters complain enough. And me…well, I became a jazz singer.” He chuckled. “That tells you everything you need to know about that.”

“Could be good for junior,” Zero mused.

“Would be good for his old man too,” Camino replied with a wink. “You just say the word. I'm serious about you.”

Horns blared from outside on the street, followed by shouts and curses. The chauffeur of the Rolls-Royce rolled up up his sleeves and unbuttoned his vest as his cap fell on the sidewalk. Across from him, an equally irate taxi driver wrenched himself from the crumpled yellow door of his taxi. A woman was trapped in the back of the Rolls, hanging out the window and screeching while the rat-like dog in her arms barked. The taxi driver jumped across the hood of the limo and delivered a heavy-fisted crack to the chauffeur’s mug that Zero could hear all the way from his spot by the window. He winced as he unconsciously massaged the same place on his jaw. Camino clapped his hand across Zero’s shoulder, laughing, his lips peeled back over sharp white teeth in a roar of amusement. The Infernal Eye shone. “Fresh air and sunshine, hermano!”

-------

“Fresh air, sunshine, forests and mountains,” said Zero as he and Sister Nance held hands on a park bench and watched their young son totter around the steel playground. “Would be good for junior, yanno?”

“This sounds rehearsed,” Nance snorted, flashing him one of her elfin grins. “What's the deal? Why all of a sudden you want to move?”

Zero shrugged. “No deal. Just…need a change, maybe.”

“Zero, dear. Don't even try to lie to me.”

“Bishop Camino… thinks I should be Papa Emeritus.”

“You?” Nance made a face. “You haven't held a single job for more than a year. And you…want to run this whole thing? You want to be Papa?”

Zero frowned back, a little wounded but willing to fight. “None of those gigs were ever that interesting.”

“And you can't just up and walk away from this one,” Nance said. “No session musician or delivery boy or taxi driver ever had to commit his soul.” She tapped the place under her left eye. “Camino and the others…got a piece of their immortal soul committed to the Void. A chunk of it is just…it's just gone.”

That whitened eye of Camino burned in Zero’s brain once more. The sharp-toothed wicked grin, the bone-chilling tension of that pinprick pupil sliding across him and passing judgement. Zero had a face for television, sure— but Camino…Camino’s visage came from someplace else.

Like any blow he's ever taken, Zero shrugged it all off. “Wasn't using my immortal soul much anyway,” he chuckled.

“Goddamit Zero.” Nance crumpled into a fussy search of her coat for her silver cigarette case. He felt the cold air return to the palm of his now abandoned hand as it rested on the park bench.

Primo zoomed over from across the playground, falling into his mother’s arms. Irving Robert, really, but Primo was a better nickname for him than Uno.

“Push me on the swings?” asked their son, grinning under the hat Nance had knitted for him last week.

Nance cupped his face in her hands, smiling sweetly. “In a few minutes, Primo, your father and I are talking. But I bet you know how to do it yourself. We want to watch.”

“Oh, I can!”

“Good, now run! We're watching!” And Primo spun around and raced over to the swings across the park, leaving them for a few precious moments. Nance lit the cigarette in her mouth and took a drag, sighing on the exhale.

“Feels like the only thing that sticks in your brain are bad ideas, Zero,” Nance muttered. “I'm saying that affectionately.”

“You're one of ‘em,” he teased back, and she shoved him with a little laugh.

“Fine. You want to move to the Ministry Headquarters. Work right under Mother Imperator and Papa Emeritus and their whole shitty retinue.”

“And bring you along, of course,” Zero added in an attempt to reassure her. He was glad that she was even considering his idea now.

“I've been up there,” Nance continued. “Not much to do, so siblings get obsessive. I didn't want to stay long.”

“Obsessive?”

“Mother Imperator…” Nance stifled a laugh. “Absolute bag. A good hundred years old, easy. Refuses to speak anything but Italian. There's two siblings waiting for her to drop dead. Any day now, it feels.”

“Oh really now?” Zero mused, half listening.

“Sister Rebecca, for one. She went right to the top as the Dark Mother's Personal Assistant. Fluent in six languages, Italian especially. Comes from a bloodline of senators and government officials. Family's got mob money. She's next in line, for sure. And then there's…” Nance winced, as if an icy wind passed through her. “Maestra Eunice.”

“Oh, she's important?” Zero had seen her from time to time, conversing with Camino. Her hooded eyes, her deep scowl. He remembered her because he thought it a shame when blondes scowled like that. And Camino always looked queasy after their meetings.

“Leader of the Conclave,” Nance explained. “Old, old Ministry family. She's been shuffled around. She doesn't make too many friends.” Nance smiled crookedly. “And Rebecca would easily cut her throat in her sleep if Eunice doesn't get to Rebecca first. It's no good out there. Too heavy while those two wait for old Imperator to croak. You really want to live in the middle of that?”

“Two broads in a spat,” stated Zero. He figured early on that if there were two women left on the entirety of this Earth they still would think the other was talking behind their back.

“One has the keys to the entire global network of our Church, the other the deepest understanding of the magic that comes from the Void,” said Nance. “These are the two broads no one wants to stand in between.”

“Who says I have to stand between ‘em? I can make my music. And that's all I got to do.”

“There's no budging you, is there.”

“Camino…believes in me.” It was the first sincere thing Zero had said in a long while, and it left his heart with a wrenching whine that was carried through into his voice. It held such a sad little timbre that Nance shifted in her seat to look at him. “He believes in what I do.”

Zero knew few people in his life ever put their faith in him. Teachers thought him stupid. Fellow tramps on the road thought he was easy pickings. Not even his own father had much to do with him; his father, who's only belief was in his own ability to pick winning dogs at the track.

“You got to take risks on what you believe,” Zero added as she continued to contemplate his expression.

“But…moving…”

“Six years is the longest I've been in a single place,” announced Zero. He wanted to add “and loved someone”, but the thought felt intrusive and not at all something Nance wanted to hear. She knew his feet got restless if he sat for too long. She had been good to him, good for him, and he owed her his affection.

Nance grabbed his hand, turning his attention to look into her soft brown eyes. “Robert,” she began quietly, and she only used his real name when she wanted him to really listen. “What about your son? Robert…what about me?”

“I want to live my dream,” he said, bringing her hand to his lips. “And my dream includes you. And Primo. I…I promise I'll do right. You know I always try to do right.”

Nance smiled faintly back. “You always try,” she said quietly. “I can't argue with that. I'm happy…you found someone else who believes in you.”

“Mo-om!” Primo called to them both from his place on the swings, his arms and legs dangling as his body lay across the steel seat.

Nance got up and dropped her smoke to the ground, crushing it underfoot. “Just…give me a few days to think about it."

Zero gave her a thin smile as he watched her cross the playground. He felt he had moved the pieces in the way he wanted them, needed them to move. And he was pretty sure of the rules of the game, so how hard would all of this be? Except he felt a queasiness now instead of relief. The feeling of his words being more of a wager than a sign of honesty hung about his shoulders. He had the faint memory of being on the other side of that conversation. And in those moments what he thought was a promise, was really only a way to buy time.

It would be well worth it in the end, he assured himself. Good ideas always are, and Camino had said himself how much of a good idea Zero was. Zero got to his feet, brushing off his knees as his good-natured smile returned to his face. There was nothing to worry about. He always came out on top. He always pulled through, and folks always leant him a helping hand. And of course he'd always support Nance, and Primo. He promised her and so he owed her. What more is a promise than an IOU to someone else?

Funny how many folks owe me, said Camino as his dead eye flashed. Great men are owed. And Zero was ready to be a lender.

My Fic List | My AO3 | More Domestic Fics

Papa Camino & Dewdrop, Phantom Fic

#ghost scenes from the void #domestic fic #ghost band fic #young nihil #papa emeritus nihil #oc papa emeritus #oc sibling of sin #ao3 fanfic #ghost band oc #my art

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inkwingart · 2 years ago

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Vietwardian look 4/? — as promised, a more masc look, inspired by the Edwardian New Women but with Vietnamese decorative details.

The shawl collar of the quintessential 1890s waistcoat has been melded with the vân kiên or “cloud shoulder.” The pale bronze and black bishop-sleeved shirt features a crossover front with a wide black collar band and black piping at the cuffs. These pieces are paired with black cycling breeches, ribbed stockings, and short boots. The sword is a cross between a traditional European longsword, but with stylized bronze crossguard and pommel resembling the fittings of a kiếm. The hilt is lacquered black and inlaid with mother of pearl lozenges.

Do not edit or remove my caption, crop, edit, or repost on any platform.

#my art #illustration #vietwardian lookbook #i need to stop posting these in the middle of the night

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the-avaricious-meddler · 4 months ago

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Name: Alana _____ Monikers: -The Gambling Former Noble/The Gambling Revolutionary (depending on what circles you're in) -Mr Cards Age: 27 (Main 4 storyline), 34 (Violet Storyline) Species: Transition phase between Human and Curator Gender/Pronouns: Girlthing (She/it) Ambition: Heart's Desire (Power Ending) Profession: Correspondent Lodgings: Suite at The Royal Bethlehem Closest To: Revolutionaries Other Affiliations: The Liberation of Night (Allies), The Masters of The Bazaar (Target), The Cardsharp Monkey (Ally), Mr Pages (Enemy), Virginia (Enemy), The Bishop of St Fiacre's (Rival, One-sided), The Manager of The Royal Bethlehem (Complicated), Rubbery Men, Tomb-Colonists, The Court of The Wakeful Eye, The Dilmun Club (tentatively), The Youthful Naturalist, Polythreme Most Valued Primary Stat(s): Persuasive, Shadowy Most Valued Advanced Stat(s): Artisan of The Red Science, Kataleptic Toxicology Ship: Il-Altun-class Yacht Estivals Experienced: Horticulture Hell, The Sixth Coil

Exceptional/Premium stories canon to this character: Caveat Emptor

Personality: Well-meaning but selfish, artistically inclined, loyal to allies but not always honest about who those allies are. Has strong revolutionary leanings, and aids The Liberation of Night- though unless you are already enmeshed in revolutionary circles, you wouldn't know it. Nasty gambling habit.

History:

Born on the surface in 1868 to a declining noble family. Despite this, they still had a sizable estate, though they were frequently forced to use 'less than desirable' means of moneymaking to preserve their wealth. Her father was a factory-owner, and wanted her older brother to inherit it, whilst she was to be wed to a more successful family to boost the wealth of her own. She frequently witnessed the poor treatment her family's servants- and the factory's workers- were put through, causing her to become jaded to her way of life.

When she was 16, she turned to gambling, and through this she met a group that would permanently alter the course of her life- a small band of Liberationists that still lived on the surface. She joined them in secret, knowing there would be consequences should her family learn of her association. And eventually they did, and there were. At 18, she was discovered and fully disowned, ousted with little more than the clothes on her back.

She would remain on the surface for 7 years more, before deciding she could do more for her cause if she moved out of the Stars' sight. And so at age 25, she descended to The Neath, taking up residence in a cheap rookery somewhere between Veilgarden and Spite. It was around this time she learned about The Marvellous, and began to hatch a plan: she would find a way into this game, win at whatever cost, and use this victory to gain Power. Status. Enough to get into ranks high enough to consort with the Masters of The Bazaar. And from there, she would subvert, sabotage. Use that power to tear them apart from the inside.

Two years of searching. That was how long it took for her to get a potential in to the Marvellous. And how long it took for her to learn she'd have to wait five more if she wanted to play by the game's usual rules. But she wasn't interested in waiting that long. So she set about 'gently encouraging' the current set of players to begin the game early.

(Major spoilers for Ambition: Heart's Desire below)

A peculiar monkey, Intelligent beyond what it should be though not keen on communication, became her companion in this endeavor.

And her attempts, though tiresome and annoying, and requiring her to convince an imprisoned former Prince of hell to pretend to pretend to be freed and make an even further enemy out of the deviless Virginia, were ultimately successful. She convinced almost every player.

And then a larger obstacle presented itself: a Master of The Bazaar was a player. One Mr Pages, whom she already disliked, at that. She unfortunately needed to get its attention. But how?

It was then an individual she would come over time to despise showed up at her door. They introduced themself with no name, only a moniker: The Avaricious Meddler. A moniker she had heard before, not long after she'd descended to the Neath. One many disparate individuals had taken up over the decades with seemingly no connection.

They offered her a deal: They would help her with her goals, if she just did them a little favor later down the line. Not trusting them, but not having many other options, she agreed.

They told her the location of a long-inactive cell of revolutionaries, and what to tell them to get them into action. What to do to target The Bazaar itself.

Of course, before any part of this plan could be carried out, none other than Pages itself showed up. And it asked her to join the Marvellous. ...How convenient.

She agreed, of course. One doesn't turn down that kind of convenience when it quite literally comes knocking at one's door.

Being the one to disrupt the players' lives by starting the game up five years early, it fell upon her shoulders to put in the footwork to actually get things going. She would find a venue that fit with everyone's requirements, and convince whomever owned it to let them play there.

Of course, that location ended up being Arbor, one of the most irritating places to travel to. She was not unconvinced she was in some way being punished for her insistence.

(To be continued...)

#fallen london #fl #fallen london oc #fl oc #oc tag #my art #alana #the gambling former noble #the gambling revolutionary

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whencyclopedia · 5 months ago

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Henry Clinton

Sir Henry Clinton (l. c. 1730-1795) was a British military officer who served as commander-in-chief of the British Army in the later stages of the American Revolutionary War (1775-1783). Having arrived in Boston in May 1775, he served in North America for most of the war, resigning his post in 1782 after the British defeat at the Siege of Yorktown.

The son of a British admiral, Clinton became a soldier at the age of 15 and saw action in Germany during the Seven Years' War. Thanks to his connections to British lords, he quickly rose through the ranks and was one of three British generals sent to Boston, Massachusetts, in 1775 to crush the American rebellion. Clinton was famously jealous, paranoid, and quick-tempered, traits that made it difficult for him to work with his fellow officers; still, he was well-educated in military matters and was among the most competent British tacticians of the war. As commander-in-chief, he led the British army at the Battle of Monmouth and the Siege of Charleston, but his lack of support for his second-in-command, Lord Charles Cornwallis, contributed to the British loss of the American South. After the war, he returned to England, where he received much of the blame for the British defeat before his death in December 1795.

Early Career

Little is known about Clinton's early life or childhood. He was likely born on 16 April 1730, although the time and location of his birth have been disputed; some scholars claim he was born in Newfoundland when his father was governor there, which, if true, would push his birth year back to 1732 at the earliest. What is known for certain, however, is that he came from a wealthy family of noble pedigree. His family was a cadet branch of the House of Lincoln, which could trace its earldom back to the reign of Elizabeth I of England (r. 1558-1603), and his uncle was related by marriage to the first Duke of Newcastle, who often lent his patronage to the Clinton family (Willcox, 4). Henry's father was British Admiral George Clinton (not to be confused with the future U.S. Vice President of the same name) and his mother was Anne Carle, a general's daughter. He also had two siblings, both sisters, who survived to adulthood.

Through the Duke of Newcastle's influence, Admiral Clinton was appointed governor of the Province of New York in 1741. The admiral did not arrive to take up his post until September 1743, taking his family with him. Henry, who was at most 13 when he arrived in New York, was probably educated at the Long Island school of Samuel Seabury, the future first bishop of the American Episcopal Church. In 1745, he began his military career when he enlisted in the New York militia as a lieutenant. The following year, his father procured for him a captain's commission, and he was sent to join the garrison of Louisbourg, a fort on the Saint Lawrence River that had recently been captured from the French. While stationed there, he was ambushed by a band of French and Native Americans, narrowly avoiding death by "stripping and jumping into the sea" (Willcox, 10).

In the summer of 1749, Clinton realized his prospects for military advancement in the colonies were limited, prompting him to return to England. With Newcastle's help, he was commissioned as a captain in the illustrious Coldstream Guards and, by 1758, he had risen to the rank of lieutenant colonel in the Grenadier Guards. By then, Europe was engulfed in the Seven Years' War (1756-1763) and Clinton's regiment was sent to Germany to bolster the Anglo-German army trying to prevent a French invasion of Hanover. He fought at the Battle of Villinghausen (16 July 1761) and Battle of Wilhelmsthal (24 July 1762), serving shoulder to shoulder with fellow British officers William Phillips and Lord Charles Cornwallis, both of whom would also become prominent generals in the American Revolution. He served as aide-de-camp to Charles William Ferdinand, future Duke of Brunswick, (the same Prussian general who would one day fight the French revolutionaries at the Battle of Valmy) in whose service Clinton was seriously wounded at Nauheim (30 August 1762).

#History #HenryClinton #AmericanRevolution #SiegeOfCharleston

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denimbex1986 · 10 months ago

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'Last month, the BBC offered an apology of sorts after a red-carpet reporter at the Baftas asked Andrew Scott, star of the film All of Us Strangers, about fellow Irish actor Barry Keoghan’s appendage. This had been the subject of conversation thanks to Keoghan’s naked dancing in the film, Saltburn, in which Keoghan’s floppy bishop steals the final scene. To settle this nagging concern the BBC turned to a gay man. ‘There was a lot of talk about prosthetics. How well do you know him?’ the reporter asked an annoyed Scott who shook his head and walked away.

Had a female actress been asked to authenticate another woman’s breasts, the scandal that would have ensued goes without mentioning, but the BBC dusted it off. ‘Our question to Andrew Scott was meant to be a light-hearted reflection of the discussion around the scene and was not intended to cause offence,’ the organisation said.

The gynarchy has made clear that objectifying men is perfectly fine and, after all, what’s a little light-hearted homophobia when gay movies are having a renaissance? All of Us Strangers – nominated for six Baftas but ultimately snubbed, and Saltburn, nominated for five – joined a handful of other gay titles that studios have banked on attracting an audience beyond the 4 per cent of the population who might traditionally see those films.

Where the box office didn’t pay off, critical acclaim largely has. 2020’s Supernova, staring Colin Firth and Stanley Tucci as a 60-something gay couple, and last year’s drama Passages directed by Ira Sachs, have also inched into a market where such movies typically didn’t belong.

‘Why are gay movies always so sad,’ people used to ask in the 1990s. Thirty years later, nothing has changed. Gay flicks tend to have three themes – loneliness, death, and villainy – and this recent batch of movies is no exception. The miniseries Feud: Capote vs. The Swans, released last month and based on writer Truman Capote’s final years, nicely encompasses all three.

‘New film All of us Strangers centers on gay loneliness and trauma,’ a headline on NBC News read, as though that’s anything new. And while I don’t know what ‘trauma’ is, I do know that gay people have always fixated on it and, increasingly, so does everyone else. Gay films haven’t changed, but the audience has. Women are lonelier, more promiscuous, and more atomised than ever and now they’ve discovered a whole sub-genre of cinema speaking to that and aiming to nurture those anxieties. Just a hunch, but the ladies sobbing along at home to Supernova are probably childless and spend many hours a week on Zoom calls.

When a gay film meanders too deeply into gay insider baseball, like Billy Eichner’s 2022 romantic comedy Bros, it bombs. The most resonate gay movie of all time might continue to be 1970’s The Boys in the Band, but the 2020 remake flopped, probably because it’s a story devoid of hope and beauty, only messiness and casual destruction –something gay men understand but remains far too raw and excruciating for women to enjoy.

Then there’s the other side of it – the neutered gay fan fiction written by and for women, like Amazon Prime’s horrendously stupid 2023 film Red, White & Royal Blue, which offers women magical gay pets to carry around in their dreams. When I asked the feminist writer Louise Perry about these films, she said:

"These are usually gay relationships represented in a uniquely feminine way: intensely emotional, no casual sex, very unlike gay porn for men.

I suspect that young women find these gay fantasies attractive because they’re scared of the asymmetries inherent to straight relationships, in which women are always the more physically vulnerable party. So, they invent fictional gay men and give them a style of sexuality more typical of women.

She continued: ‘Will & Grace was obviously created for women because the gay male characters are weirdly asexual,’ reiterating something gay men have speculated for some time, noting that the bitchy and boozy, heterosexual Karen Walker was the only character they gravitated toward.

That’s not to say women can’t write great gay stories. Brokeback Mountain, the most critically acclaimed gay movie of all time, was based on a short story by Annie Proulx, who revealed in a 2009 interview her frustration with fan letters wishing the story had ended on a positive note. Those ‘idiots’ who want a happy ending, she said, overwhelmingly tended to be men.'

#Andrew Scott #BAFTAs #All of Us Strangers #Saltburn #Will & Grace #Brokeback Mountain #Annie Proulx #Karen Walker #Red White & Royal Blue #Supernova #Passages #Feud: Capote Vs The Swans #Bros #The Boys in The Band

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the-artist-grimm · 2 months ago

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Following on from the wonderful "smecks lore" drop earlier, are there any other little headcanons of history within the world you would like to share that maybe you've not been able to incorporate into your work?

I'm sorry for calling it that but it is what it is

Love your work as always Yadda Yadda Yadda I'll shut up now bye!

Alright Miscellaneous Lore Lightning Round go!

Anthea

-Favorite color is green! They don’t mind the red since it’s on brand with the Red Crown, but Anthea would’ve preferred a green cloak had they the choice, it’s why they have green mixed in anywhere else in the outfit they can.

-They're VERY petite and it's likely from their mother's side since their dad was a giant lol. They can get grumpy about it, but they do really enjoy how Narinder can just pick them up easily. They DON'T enjoy when the kits get taller than they are though XD

-Their love of stars comes from their father! Their village was hidden in the woods with little view of the sky through the trees, so when their father, Aries, started taking Anthea at age 4 out with him on supply runs he would try to always leave time for them to stargaze and tell them stories about the constellations.

-Anthea was the one who found their father’s remains-when he didn’t come home one morning no one else in the village knew his routes, so at just 8 years old they went out on their own to find him in secret. It took hours and was pretty far out, but they did find him eventually, first his bloodied robes and pack, then his charred remains. Heretics had jumped and sacrificed him via a fire to Shamura going off the sigils left burned into his skull, and it was only by the wedding band still left on his hand that they could ID him. From there they broke down for a while, and after crying themselves dry of tears, numbly packed as much of his bones and ashes as they could into the pack and returned home.

Bishops

All the bishops have several domains, but they do each have a main 2 each as follows;

Leshy: Chaos and Order Heket: Famine and Harvest Kallamar: Pestilence and Medicine Shamura: War and Wisdom Narinder: Death and Sleep (the sleep domain was inspired a little by both Greek Mythology and @hotchocolatedemon ‘s AMAZING fic Ichor Betwixt Mortal Palms GO READ IT)

Narinder

-Narinder’s more mellow/melancholic personality in this AU directly stems from his low self-esteem and his belief that his siblings hated him. Had the twins not ended up in his care Anthea likely would've met a VERY numb god, but as guilty as he felt about it, having two sweet kids around was a balm to that festering wound of grief.

-Narinder’s domain of Death is more specifically ‘Peaceful Death’ (Drawing from how Hypnos-the greek god of sleep, is a peaceful god)

-Narinder's been mostly disconnected from his Sleep domain due to the chains separating him from mortals (he actually feared sleep would be impossible for a time after the chains but thankfully outside of more nightmares most are unaffected rest-wise), but when he starts hearing about Anthea’s nightmares from the crown he starts trying to get them to fall asleep in the Gateway to try and get a chance to peer in.

Heket

-Heket is a big fucking lesbian ™ and has a thing for ladies that can beat her over the head with a hammer. (cough Forneus cough). While acting as vessel Forneus prefered to attack Heket's ranks the most since it pissed her off a LOT, but it gradually became a weird breaking each others chops to flirt thing. They haven't spoken since Forneus gave up the crown, but Heket is actually part of the reason why she became the one vessel not hunted down-post vesselship.

She didn't know Forneus had been pregnant nor that Shamura took the kits till after the fact, but after learning about it she felt so sorry for her that she told Leshy and Kallamar to leave her be, and that if any of their forces so much as touched her they'd be punished. Like Forneus could be a pain, but she could match her in a fight which Heket really respected.

Aym and Baal

-The twins are technically 300+, but since their aging has been so slowed they don’t recognize it, think children trapped in Neverland, so long as they’re in the gateway centuries can pass and they won’t perceive a thing. They would still be newborns without Narinder intervening with his magic, and the gateway age of 11 is just him guessing based off their teeth (he saved all their fallen kitten teeth since it was the only way to vaguely keep track of their age). When freed Aym still has 2 left and Baal 1, meaning they're just at the start of adolescence.

-Which on that note Narinder feeding them tiny amounts of magic over the centuries has kinda transformed the two-they’re more demi-god than mortal now, and stop visibly aging at 25 since they’re immortal. They also each took on minor aspects of Nari’s domains, Aym can sense when death is near, and Baal can vaguely sense the type of dream someone’s having.

Knucklebones Gang

-Ranks while working as Ratau’s disciples:

Flinky - Medic and Spymaster, he still actually passes along old contacts/cashes in favors for Anthea now Shrumy - Loyalty Enforcer and Guard Captain, he used to be a pretty tough fighter and later became Anthea’s combat instructor after they entered Ratau’s care. He starts teaching the twins eventually too. Klunko and Bop - Tax Enforcer and Head of Trade, wasn’t very good at actually collecting tax but was good at getting good deals from traders

-I hinted at this in one of my COTLtober pieces but Flinky and Ratau are married! They got together during Ratau’s time as vessel and married after he lost the crown.

-The traps mentioned in the same piece are also to keep Heretics out of Ratau's territory since he's wanted.

-Ratau and Flinky are also technically Anthea’s adopted fathers-they alternate between calling them by their names or ‘Dad’ for Ratau and ‘Pa’ for Flinky depending on their mood/who’s with them.

-The Cult knows that if the Leader is gonna be gone for awhile then the Rat's in charge-Ratau before Narinder's freed/reconciled with the lamb would often be asked to babysit, though once Narinder's officially Anthea's partner that role goes to him typically, meaning Ratau can go back to enjoying his retirement.

That's just some random bits for now!

#cult of the lamb #cotl #cotl lamb #cotl fanart #crimson angel au #anthea #cotl au #cotl ratau #cotl forneus #cult of the lamb ratau #cult of the lamb forneus #cult of the lamb aym #cult of the lamb baal #cotl narinder #cult of the lamb narinder #ask #crimson angel au lore

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tacticalhimbo · 6 months ago

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SCRUTINIZED DETAILS — LUNA’S GUEST ROOM / OFFICE

Whoops! I forgot I still had things to post for this ^^;

Anyway, this room is interesting because it's not really clear what it is. As far as I know, it was likely the old location of her desk/workspace, but after Sarah's death and the beginning investigation into the Blueblood Killer, Luna chose to utilize the wall space in the living room.

Still, there's some interesting finds in here! Transcriptions for any relevant material (e.g., awards and the small bulletin board) below the cut!

-> IMAGE 4: CERTIFICATE / AWARD

Certificate of Achievement

In recognition of brave and dedicated service and commitment to our community n the occasion of your being presented with the Police Officer of the Year Award by the Exchange Club of Yonkers.

-> IMAGE 6: BULLETIN BOARD

FBI WANTED POSTER

WANTED BY THE FBI

SERIAL MURDER - DOMESTIC TERRORISM

[Sketch]

BLUEBLOOD KILLER

DESCRIPTION

Age is guesstimated at mid-thirties. Sex is male. Height between 5'11" to 6'. Weight between 150 to 180 pounds. Build is athletic and compact. Hair color is unknown (length and color covered by a dark-colored beanie hat). Eye color is unknown. Complexion is light but could be darker. Race described as white. Nationality is unknown. Occupation is unknown (could be unemployed or ex-law enforcement). Scar and marks were not noted. Remarks from witnesses describe an odd gait, wide shoulders, possibly left-handed, large eyes, and above-average ability to [???] urban enivornments. Last seen wearing a black beanie hat, dark lower face mask, black hooded sweatshirts, and black slacks.

CRIMINAL RECORD

Unknown. Wanted for the murder or 12 police officers, 2 criminal prosecutors, and 1 criminal analyst.

HIDDEN ARTICLE (BENEATH WANTED POSTER)

Steetly chapel is 850 years old

The ancient Chapel of Steetly All Saints is 850 years old this year — and to mark the occasion there will be an open air service in the Chapel garden a week on Sunday at 3:15.

The singing will be led by Whitwell Colliery Welfare Prize Band and the preacher will be the Right Rev. T. R. Parfitt. Assistant Bishop of Derby.

The [???] [???] shows that Steetly was held shortly after the [???] Survey [???] by Gley de Briton, by whom it was probably built. It is one of the most complete and beautiful specimens of [???] work on a small scale that can be [???] with anywhere, though there is a similar chapel at [???] Quevilly, near [???], France. The south doorway has three receding semi-circular arches and shafts richly ornamented.

The exterior of the [???] east end is also [???]. The [???] is supported by five round-edged plaster buttresses connected by a broad [???] [???] {???], delicately carved with interlacing foliage and above this unique [???] are three small round-beaded windows.

The Chancel arch is one of particular beauty. It is ornamented with triple [???] of mouldings. The [???] on the north side are carved with a representation of St. George and the Dragon.

The arch into the [???] is surrounded by the [???] moulding and the [???] are carved with foliage.

Four well-moulded ribs, or [???], with the [???] design, support the vaulted roof and at their junction [???] [???] oval medallion carved with the Agnus Dei (Lamb of God).

The capitals of the shafts from which the ribs spacing are also carved, one representing the temptation of Adam and Eve.

Behind the altar is a stone which formerly lay outside the south door and is believed to have marked the grave of Lawrence de [???], a clergy-man who was inducted to Steetly a year before the Black Death in [???]. Its rich carving includes a [???], a chalice and a hand stretched out as if giving a benediction.

The Chapel fell into ruins at the [???] during the reign of Henry VIII.

A visitor to Steetly in 1698 wrote: "In a green meadow [???] a [???] well-built [???] all arch-roofed [???] and [???]. The [???] that covered the same is all [???] away so that the weather begins to pierce through [???] [???] to [???] [???] decaying."

When [???] George Edward Mason became a [???] of Whitwell in 1874, Steetly Chapel was in a sorry state.

The roofless, doorless ruin had an interior overgrown with [???] and [???] and was a shelter for sheep and cattle and, it is said, was used as a cockpit in the days when cock-fighting was the sport of residents in the surrounding villages of Whitwell, [???], [???], and Steetley.

He could mourn its former beauty, and felt that it could be restored.

A year prior to his coming to Whitwell, the Chapel had been visited by members of the British Archeological Society, who also could see what a masterpiece it had been.

One deeply interested was the Victorian Prime Minister, William Gladstone.

[???] Mason secured the services of Mr. J. L. Pearson, one of England's most famous [???] architects. It was he who restored the ruin to its present beauty.

The diminutive Chapel is 58 feet in length and is divided into three parts — a [???], a [???], and an [???]. The [???] is 16 feet wide and the [???] 14 feet. Under the eaves outside are hideous gargoyles.

The restored Chapel was [???] on 2nd November [???] by the Bishop of [???]. As it was the day after All Saints' Day, it was named Steeley All Saints. The original Chapel was dedicated to Our Lady and St. [???]

— [???] P. Gallagher.

POLICE APPEAL FOR CLUES IN 1985 MURDER

By Thom Gross

Of the Post-Dispatch Staff

Vinita Park police are appealing to the public for clues in the unsolved murder of Linda Sue Sherman in 1985.

All leads have been exhausted, Lt. Michael Webb said, "But we have reason to believe that there are members of the public who may know something about it."

Sherman was reported missing April 24, 1985, by her husband, Donald Sherman, of the 8300 block of Monroe Avenue. She was 27 and the mother of a 9-year-old daughter. Two days later, her yellow '71 Volkswagen was found in a short-term parking lot at Lambert Field, absent any sign of struggle.

Further investigation led police to suspect that she was the victim of foul play, Webb said.

In 1990, a skull was found in Bridgeton, and it was turned over to the St. Louis County medical examiner's office. Vinita Park police learned of the skull in September 1991 and matched it with Sherman's dental records.

No other remains were recovered.

People with any clues about the case are asked to call Webb or Vinita Park Police Chief Robert J. Hartz at 428-7373. Webb said any information would be kept in strict confidence.

THE LAST LETTERS OF A KILLER

[This article is impossible to read, with some supplemental material only just legible. As such, transcription was not an option.]

SUICIDE OF M62 KILLER

[This article is impossible to read, with some supplemental material only just legible. As such, transcription was not an option.]

-> BOOKS IN THE ROOM

There are numerous books in the room, and are as follows.

On the chair — Tactical Crime Analysis: Research and Investigation (First Edition) by Derek J. Paulsen, Sean Bair, & Dan Helms. Official description is as follows:

Research has shown that the majority of crimes are committed by persistent or serial offenders, with as little as seven percent of offenders accounting for approximately 60 percent of all crimes. By focusing police efforts on these prolific offenders and learning to identify, analyze, and resolve the crimes they commit, the law enforcement community can protect and defend the public much more effectively. Tactical Crime Analysis: Research and Investigation provides a comprehensive discussion on both the theoretical and practical aspects of crime series analysis, making it a critical resource for those engaged in crime prevention and investigation.

On the table — Two unlabeled books, and Spy Secrets That Can Save Your Life: A Former CIA Officer Reveals Safety and Survival Techniques to Keep You and Your Family Protected by Jason Hanson. Official description is as follows:

The New York Times bestseller that reveals the safety, security, and survival techniques that 99% of Americans don’t know—but should

When Jason Hanson joined the CIA in 2003, he never imagined that the same tactics he used as a CIA officer for counter intelligence, surveillance, and protecting agency personnel would prove to be essential in every day civilian life.

In addition to escaping handcuffs, picking locks, and spotting when someone is telling a lie, he can improvise a self-defense weapon, pack a perfect emergency kit, and disappear off the grid if necessary. He has also honed his “positive awareness”—a heightened sense of his surroundings that allows him to spot suspicious and potentially dangerous behavior—on the street, in a taxi, at the airport, when dining out, or in any other situation.

In his engaging and empowering book Spy Secrets That Can Save Your Life, Jason shares this know-how with readers, revealing how to:

• prevent home invasions, carjackings, muggings, and other violent crimes • run counter-surveillance and avoid becoming a soft target • recognize common scams at home and abroad • become a human lie detector in any setting, including business negotiations • gain peace of mind by being prepared for anything instead of uninformed or afraid

With the skill of a trained operative and the relatability of a suburban dad, Jason Hanson brings his top-level training to everyday Americans in this must-have guide to staying safe in an increasingly dangerous world.

Then there are the... emblems? On the wall, which are just various stock badges with no real significance. And the photo of Sarah, which can be seen here:

This is just a stock photo which can be found here, created by someone who seems to have a niche for criminal justice stock photography.

#txt #pic #virtual photography #long post #welcome to the game #wttg #scrutinized #luna youngman #blueblood killer #scrutinized sarah

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gabbykinneysupremacy · 9 months ago

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So… I’ve watched the original X-Men tas probably five or six times, and I was so excited for the new episodes today!!

So I broke down all the Easter eggs I saw in the first episode! I hope to do this with every episode and I’m going to start the second one tonight. This probably isn’t all of them, so comment if I missed something.

If you want a really good analysis of this episode, you should watch the YouTube channel New Rockstars. They do amazing breakdowns of everything nerdy and have the coolest merch!!

Obviously, spoilers for episode one of X-Men ‘97’

Logo update on title card

1:16: The panning of the city shows signs that advertise Ashida, Stark industries, VistaCorp and Da Costa. Noriko Ashida is mutant Surge, who was introduced in New Mutants in January of 2008. Stark industries is obviously Tony Stark. The original show featured a story with both Wolverine and Captain America, so we know the avengers exist in some form. And Da Costa: Roberto Da Costa AKA sunspot appears in the opening of the show, captured by the FOH. Sunspot made his appearance as a member of the original New Mutants.

1:20 Anti mutant graffiti and X logo spray painted over “Report Mutants” flyer on pole.

2:00 FOH has same arm bands and military style berets. They also appear to have sentinal technology as wearable weapons.

2:47 There’s a missing poster for a woman who appears to be Marrow, another frequent X-Men character and Morlock.

4:55 Daily Bugle, the news paper known to Spider-Man fans, flashes by. Again, spider man was in an episode of the original X-men animated series, confirming the universes are one. This paper advertises “Benetton’s Mutant Fashion Show”, the cover notably features four mutants, two of which are resubmit recognized and Banshee and Dust.

5:03 Gambit is rocking a crop top that says “Rock.” From the design, it looks like he cropped the shirt himself. He’s also sporting a necklace with a blue/ white gem. Here, he’s making Begets, a traditional Cajun treat, reflecting on Gambit’s own roots in the French quarter of New Orleans.

5:18 Rogue is back in her pink dress, the same dress she wore in the pilot of the original animated series.

6:54 Beasts’s book collection features Animal Farm by George Orwell, the book he read in prison in the original series.

7:37 Both Beast and Jubilee mention that Bishop is a time traveler, but neither mention why he’s staying in their time with the X-Men.

8:52 The Danger Room simulation features the rubble of the UN, Magneto flying above it. This foreshadows later in the second episode where he does use his powers at the UN.

9:20 Jubilee lists off powers to Sunspot, asking which are his. She mentions shooting gold balls from his body, saying that would be weird. This references Goldballs, a very real and very weird X-Men.

9:57 Scott stares at a picture of the original X-Men with Xavier. In the comics, the original five are Cyclops, Marvel Girl, Angel, Ice Man and Beast. In the show, we’ve seen all five but never all together. And Angel never acknowledges being in the original X-men.

10:00 Scott and Jean talk to Dr. Cooper; aka Valerie Cooper. In comics, she’s an assistant to the president on the context of superhumans.

10:54 The team play basketball outside, just like Wolverine, Gambit and Jubilee did in the original show.

11:08 Charles’ death certificate reveals that the date of his death is 11/11/1996, and that his middle name is Francis.

12:13 Jean confirms for the first time that her and Cyclops’ baby is a boy, most likely Nathan Summers.

18:42 Jean sees a child’s hand drawing a picture when she uses cerebro. Is this a flash to the future of her son?

19:04 The baby jean holds is wrapped in a yellow X-Men blanket.

19:35 The rocks behind Jean turn into gravestones.

23:28 The sentinels call out an omega level threat. This refers to Storm’s Omega level status, one of the first times we’ve talked about power rankings in tas.

23:42 Where Storms’s lightening hits the sand, it turns into glass. This is a natural phenomenon and the glass structures are called fulgurites.

24:50 The soldiers and helicopters that come to take Trask are labeled as UN forces. They’re accompanied by Valerie Cooper, her second appearance this episode.

28:12 When Magneto moves the book, only the metal corners light up as being manipulated by his powers, just a fun detail.

And of course, updated title cards in the end credits

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bullet-prooflove · 11 months ago

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Stockton!Series Part Four: Sierra - Nestor Oceteva x Reader (feat: Marcus Alvarez)

Tagging: @anime-weeb-4-life @expir3dl0v3 @danzer8705 @drabbles-mc @alwaysachorusgirl @witches-unruly-heart @mysoulisasunflower @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @multifandomloversworld @est1887 @mortal--soul @buddinglinguist @spookyboogyuniverse @thanossexual @lexondeck @weiwei0210 @trublu2u @justreblogginfics @oklahomapeach @keyweegirlie @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @withakindheartx @wnbweasley @skyesthebomb @msjava1972 @trublu2u @fleureeee @jp1019 @thiashazzywriting @jeybae

Part One: El Cuchillo - An incident in the clubhouse causes ramifcations for the entire club.

Part Two: Always - Nestor learns about what happened.

Part Three: In the Dark - You and Nestor wake up to find armed men in your house.

Bishop is livid, fucking livid. He can feel the fury chasing through his veins as he stands on the patch of land outside the clubhouse at two in the morning, his eyes fixed on the three men kneeling in front of him, their hands bound behind their backs.

Sanchez, the man who had planned to burn down your house.

Flaco, the man who’d tried to murder you in your sleep.

Ramos, the fucking orchestrator of all this chaos.

Hank and Taza stand on either side of their prisoners, making sure no one gets a stupid fucking idea in their head and tries to run.

It’s fitting in a way that it comes down to the old guard. These were the men who swore to protect you once upon a time. When your father was at his wits end, staring down the bottom of bottle because he didn’t know how to help you. What you don’t know, what you will never know is that they had plans for the list your father made all those years ago. If you hadn’t sought your vengeance first, they would have done it for you.

He hears the roar of the motorcycle in the distance, it tears through the air like a banshee screaming into the night. Noone speaks as the rider pulls up, they simply wait as he climbs off the bike, his snakeskin cowboy boots clicking against the concrete. He’s wearing his kutte tonight, his El Padrino patch showing predominantly in the overhead lights on he strides towards Bishop.

That rage, it seems to simmer. Bishop can feel it radiating from the other man as he draws closer, his eyes glowing like coals from the deepest depths of hell. El Padrino’s out for blood tonight, Bishop can taste it.

“Just these three?” He asks Bishop, indicating towards their captives.

Bishop removes Ramos’s phone from his pocket before handing it to Marcus. The other man studies the messages intently, his thumb scrolling through them as he takes in the details of the hit.

Raze it the ground, he’d written. I want her to burn.

“Smokey wasn’t involved?” Marcus questions, handing the phone back to Bishop.

Bishop shakes his head as he returns it to his pocket.

“I have Riz keeping him company in the clubhouse, figured you’d want to talk to him once you were finished with them.” He says, inclining his head towards the three Stockton men.

“You were right.” Marcus says, withdrawing the Berretta from the waist band of his trousers.

He points the weapon at Sanchez.

“The one that wanted to burn down their home.” Marcus says before pulling the trigger.

Flaco cries out as the blood splashes across his face, the stench of cordite fills the air as Marcus points the gun at him.

“The one who fired an assault rifle into their bed.” Marcus pulls the trigger again and Flaco falls face first onto the concrete.

“And you,” Marcus says turning his attention to Ramos. “The man who can’t let the past just die, who has to come back and rake it up because he can’t stand the fact a dead man was a better Mayan that he will ever be.”

Ramos laughs, it’s a haunting rasp that echoes through the yard as he stares up at Marcus.

“She grew up pretty didn’t she? Javi’s daughter.” Ramos says, a cruel smile spreading across his features. “Just like her mother.”

There’s a flash of steel behind Marcus’s eyes, his hand threads through Ramo’s hair, gripping it tightly before he tugs it back and jams the Berretta right under his chin.

“A bullet is too good for you.” Marcus snarls as he locks gazes with Ramos.

“She was my girl.” Ramos hisses, his tongue running over his lower lip. “Sierra was mine until he rolled up and took her!”

“She didn’t belong to you.” Marcus snaps, driving the gun even harder into the other man’s jaw. “That is something you have never been able to understand. She had a choice, and she didn’t choose you.”

“I had her anyway.” Ramos reminds him and, in that moment, he looks every inch the animal he is. “I took what was his and I ruined it.”

“I should have let him kill you that night.” Marcus seethes as he wrenches the other man’s head back even further. “I should have let him beat you to death, instead of pulling him off you.”

“But you didn’t and now we’re here.” Ramos grins, blood staining his teeth. “I bet her daughter would have tasted just as sweet as she did…”

The words are barely out of his mouth before the gunshot explodes through the scrapyard, his brains spattering across the concrete.

“Take their kuttes.” Marcus says as he stares down at Ramos’s corpse. “We’re heading up to Stockton.”

Love Nestor? Get added to his tag list!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#nestor oceteva #nestor oceteva x you #nestor oceteva x reader #mayans mc

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