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acourtofsnakes · 4 years ago

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Tor - Rogue, Chapter 3| The Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader (f)

Summary: A little bit of Mando pov for you all!! It’s a shorter chapter, just kind of the same as the previous but from our Space Dad’s point of view this time. Though there may be a little hint of your decision at the end…

Warnings: Injury detail/blood, swearing, angst? Hints of fluff?

AN: There’s a very small ‘blink and you’ll miss it’ reference to a certain Dornish prince and his nickname in here too. Wonder if you’ll find it? 👀

Also, thank you to @ithinkwehitametaphor for sending me the gif! i couldn’t for the life of me find it and you honestly saved my life

Wordcount: About 3465

Rogue Taglist: @snipskixandbeskar @weirdowithnobeardo

Mando’a Translation: Tor – justice

He always thought it would end like this. Never in some big blaze of blaster fire or with his ship, but in some back alley, bleeding out, alone.

Hell, maybe he deserved it. He’d killed enough people to warrant this end, slumped on the floor, too weak to save himself.

He didn’t deserve a warrior’s death, a Mandalorian’s death. Not after all he had done.

Of course, it was his duty, his honour as a Mandalorian and a bounty hunter but… that sacred Creed did nothing to stop the thoughts that plagued him at night, the whispers that hissed in his ear during his waking hours.

He almost laughed at himself.

The Creed was all he had.

Until…. Until the kid had come along.

Until he saw that little wrinkly baby in the crib and… it had all changed.

He couldn’t kill it, him, couldn’t take it back to the Client or his Clones.

One look at that damn little silver ball, and eveyrhting went straight out the window.

Fuck the Guild code. He would never kill a child, an innocent being that couldn’t even talk, could only make those little cooing sounds that even he had to admit were adorable.

Rescuing him… it had given him something to live for. Something to fill his days and a reason not to go hurtling helmet first into danger with no regard for his own safety.

Except… well, no. That wasn’t strictly true was it. He’d become more reckless since that moment, the rules that his bound his life for so long were slowly coming undone bit by bit. All of which made him so reckless, so… desperate?

You only had to look at the sheer amount of people lining up for his and the kid’s head to prove that.

So maybe he didn’t always make the smartest decisions, but they were still alive, weren’t they? Had friends to help them if he needed it.

In a short time, he’d gone from being Judge, Jury and Executioner, to being the person that people called when they needed help. Sometimes people didn’t even call him. He just showed up and offered his services.

And truth be told… he liked it. He liked people looking at him with hope and admiration, rather than fear and jealousy. He liked the way people fussed over the kid, asking if Mando was taking good care of the child. Like they were a family.

A Clan.

The sigil on his armour said as much. Him and the kid. A unit of two rogues.

That’s what it all came down to, in the end. Everything was to keep Grogu safe. That’s why he stuck to the Outer Rim, taking jobs that would draw him further away from those that relentlessly hunting them, those who wanted to harm the Child. Besides, he needed the credits that came with the big jobs. Taking care of the little womp rat was expensive. Not to mention there was always something falling apart on his ship.

So, when that guy in the hood had cornered him in the bar, given him the fob and told him about the bounty that no one could catch, he’d taken it without a thought. He’d had so many over the years that were supposedly uncatchable that the word had nearly lost its meaning. And this stranger had obviously sensed that, explained that it was true. Reeled off the sheer amount of hunters that had been sent that way, Imps, Trandoshans, Empire workers, IG-11 robots, even another Mandalorian. After hearing that list, Mando had expected some high-level bounty. An escapee from the deepest pits of the darkest prisons, someone who had done terrible, terrible things.

So… when he’d activated the puck, and the hologram of a woman’s face had come up… he was shocked. This woman… she was beautiful. Still young. She didn’t look like she bathed in the blood of her enemies, or killed children and babies, she looked… well, not exactly harmless. There was a glint in her eyes even on the hologram, a spark that warned of danger, promised pain to anyone that tried to hurt her.

A survivor’s look.

Something niggled at him, a feeling he couldn’t quite place. It might have been hesitation, but he ignored it. The bounty over her head was enough that he could take Grogu to one of those sanctuary planets and lay low for a few weeks. Maybe even a few months. The kid deserved it, to be able to play and explore.

And himself… Maker, he was just so tired.

So, he’d pocketed the puck and the fob, didn’t ask who the client was, went back to the Crest and then he was on his way to Sorgan.

Maybe it would take him a little longer than usual to bring the girl in, but it was nothing that he hadn’t done before. After all, stealing back the kid, breaking into a prison, everything else that had occurred recently… this was a walk in the park.

He still believed that, right up to tracking you. Even when he chased you.

He had to admit, he did love it when they ran, even if his back was killing him.

Something about the chase, the frantic fear of the prey as he hunted them down, the conclusion inevitable. It thrilled him.

But… this felt.. different.

You were different. You fought like it was a dance, whirling across the clearing and around his punches like there was a song only you could hear. And you were taunting him, laughing as you did. You lived for this, like you had been bred for it. No… you’d been shaped by it, shaped by the choice of cowering or turning into a wolf. A wolf, like those he’d seen in Lothal.

You were strong, you fought well, he had to give you that much. He knew he would have to work for it, but with the promise of safety lingering, he matched you move for move, determined to hold this out as long as it took.

He’d read your file, read what had happened and used that to his advantage. The words had come easily, even though they had stirred something inside him, perhaps a mirror of the feelings he was encouraging in you.

But then… then you just gave in. Straight away. And not like the others did. Not in the way that they had, thinking it would make him go easier, change his mind.

No, you had completely, utterly given up. He saw it in your eyes. Saw that survivors glint gutter out, a wolf tamed back into her cage with her tail between her legs.

And… it threw him. He had touched something, caught something deep within you as he taunted you. Something broken… that again whispered to his own deepest thoughts. Like calling to like.

He’d ignored it, pushing that thought back into the part of his minds where his darker thoughts lay slumbering – for now. He’d carried you back to the Crest, shackled you to the wall and had made to leave you there.

Only, he had seen that the wound on your shoulder was torn open again, ripped by your fight and his jamming with the rifle. It was bleeding through your tunic, and even with unconsciousness heavy in your body, you still looked somewhat pained.

He’d hovered there, staring at the bleeding wound and having some kind of internal battle.

It wasn’t fatal. It was just a recent injury that had torn open. You’d be fine. He nodded, turning around and making all of one step.

But. A Trandoshan had been the last person to hunt you. They relished in the hunt, had probably fought dirty and used a poison. It might be infected. What if you died on his way back to dropping you off? Or got really, really sick?

Nevermind. The messenger for the Client stated you had to be brought back alive. Alive didn’t mean whole. He carried on walking, trying to focus again on something else… only to pause a couple of metres away.

Help her.

The Mandalorian had turned back around to look at you, a frustrated grunt slipping from his lips. He moved through the ship, grabbing a med-kit and then practically stormed back to you, nearly ripping your tunic as he’d eased up the sleeve.

It wasn’t too bad, a deep wound but it hadn’t been infected, yet. He cleaned it up, spraying it with the last of his bacta-spray and binding it with the last strip of bandages. He’d have to get some more soon, dig up some credits from somewhere.

A cruel reminder of why he took this job. What you were. A bounty. That’s all.

Muttering a string of curses, he finished binding your wound, wrenching his hands away and then made his way back upstairs.

A bounty. A means to an end. The way to getting a break that his aching body craved for.

He was hunter. You were prey.

That was the mantra he had to keep repeating to himself when he’d brought you up to the cockpit.

Had to keep repeating when you were teasing him, which simultaneously ground on his nerves but also made his skin tighten in a way it hadn’t for a while.

It had been a long time, so long since he’d that kind of verbal play with someone.

Hell, it had been a long time since he’d had any kind of play with anyone. He just didn’t have the time anymore, not with Grogu and not when everyone knew who he was. How could you trust someone enough to sleep with them when nearly everyone wanted to kill you?

His new mantra had echoed in his head when you began to verbally poke at him, hitting home about being lonely. He wouldn’t have been surprised if you knew you’d hit a nerve. But thankfully you stopped.

But not before that broken thing had called between you again. Your words were spoken with too much ease and casualness, someone who knew all too well the loneliness and starvation for touch and companionship.

Maker, he had to get rid of you soon.

It had almost been a relief to find the small bounty on this planet. You’d been asleep, the kid asleep too so he’d gone. He didn’t need to wake either of you up, you knew why you were here - he’d told you so this morning.

Besides, it was a small planet, easy prey to catch when everyone here feared the dark. He’d be back in a few hours.

With the way he was so wired, he’d probably be back in two.

That’s the way it was meant to happen.

Track down the bounty, disarm, bring him back, freeze him in carbonite and Mando would have you back in the sky before you’d even woken up.

And it had happened that way initially. He followed the sharp tailed bounty from the fighting pits to a cantina. Had to sit and listen as he boasted about some girl he’d bedded the night before and had screaming his name. He then, of course, launched into detail of said night, drawling about this girl in such a derogatory way that it took all his training and restraint not to just shoot this creep in the head there and then and be done with it.

But, the Mandalorian had endured it. Sat there for an hour or so and then followed him out into an alleyway. Mando kept hidden as the bounty had spoken to a friend, talking about another girl he’d seen. Apparently, this one was even better than last night. He had it on good authority that this girl would be game for anything he wanted to do and more.

And then Spikey had started describing again, in detail, what he would do. And Mando had been disgusted, angry that this creep was talking about a woman this way, such sick and derogatory things. Spikey’s friend asked if this ‘slut’ had a name.

And then…

Your name. That’s what he said.

And that’s when it went wrong.

Your name had barely come out of this animal’s lips when a red haze clouded over the Mandalorian. Everything in him screamed violence and his body went on autopilot, attacking this vile waste of space matter so quickly he hadn’t had time to breathe. Mando didn’t even notice the friend bolt, running away. He was just so focused on taking down the bounty, ripping him apart for what he’d said about you. This one would be brought in cold. He would say that it put up a fight, tried to kill him so Mando acted in self-defence.

His previous mantra of the last two days was forgotten, overtaken by a need to defend you, make sure this guy stayed the hell away from you. Bring him down, freeze him in carbonite and get off of this planet. He fell back into that haze, relying on his skills and instincts.

Except… except that when the haze cleared, he wasn’t leaning over the body.

No, he was the one being pinned against the wall by the bounty, with a strength he hadn’t realised Spikey possessed. What the fuck was he?

Escape training came to him now, but before he could disarm and kill, the bounty began to spew those vile thoughts about you again. About how Mando was keeping you tied to a bed, for his own pleasure. How he was going to take you, ask to keep you, use you-

And then for the first time in his life, Mando forgot his training. He forgot about blocking and defensive maneuverers. He forgot about the myriad of weapons on his body, the Whistling Birds, the flame-thrower.

He reached out in a blind fury to throttle this creep.

He left himself open to attack.

That was the first time he royally fucked up tonight.

Pain had suddenly become a living thing in his side and waist as he slid down the wall, and then his only thought wasn’t of survival, it was of the kid, and you.

You were back in the ship, both of you safe at least. Maybe you would know how to fly, know how to get yourselves out of there and run, escape. That’s what he’d hoped. You were smart, you were a survivor. You’d take the initiative and get yourselves out. Besides, he might not have admitted it, but he trusted you with Grogu.

And then like he’d fucking summoned you… there you were. Launching into Spikey Tail’s side and getting him away. He could only watch as you engaged him in the fight, taunted him with that same tone you’d used on him. Only this time, he could watch you.

Beautiful.

There was no other word for it, as much as he might not have wanted to admit it. You fought like it was a dance, that prowling wolf in you giving way to a viper, striking and falling back with all the grace of dancers he’d heard about performing in Coruscant.

He was almost breathless as he watched this deadly game – though that might have been the blood loss and blow to his head.

He thought he might be sick when the sound of your ribs shattering bounced off the slick metal walls, the muffled cry of agony it tore from you.

But still, the taunts kept coming, and he couldn’t help himself when you complained that Spikey Tail talked too much. You had possibly two broken ribs and yet you were still a cocky little shit. The impressed, huffing laugh that came from his lips was loud enough to be heard by you.

And that was his second fuck up of the night.

What started as an unexpected burst of warmth in his chest as you turned and smiled at him, had immediately frozen his lungs as Spikey slammed you against the wall, strangling you.

Fear shot through Mando, colder than his body had begun to feel. He tried to get up, tried to help you but he couldn’t move. His limbs wouldn’t respond to him.

He couldn’t save you.

He was going to watch you die defending him.

Just like his parents.

No, no, no. He couldn’t. He couldn’t do that, not again. He swore against his body, gathered every remaining ounce of strength that he had and reached for his blaster, just as those sick comments of degradation and ugly lust began to fall from your attacker’s lips.

All he needed was to give you an opening, just one tiny opening and you would do the rest.

Spikey’s lips were creeping toward yours, fear bursting in your eyes as you scrambled for the vibroblade sheathed against your thigh.

An opening, that’s all he had to do.

And he did. He managed to haul his body back from the edge of death long enough to shoot the guy in the back.

You took your opening.

He saw the flash of your vibroblade, heard the muffled, wet noise as it sunk into his bounty’s neck.

The guy fell to the floor in a dead weight. You dropped too and he managed to see you gasp for air, assure himself you were mostly okay before that flame of energy guttered out so quickly, he saw stars.

Darkness hovered around the edges of his vision as he felt his life slip through his fingers – literally, his other hand was pressed to his side in an effort to try and staunch it but he didn’t have the energy to.

This was it then.

The way he would go.

Nothing noble, or heroic.

Bleeding out in a back alley. The creatures in the dark would take him soon enough.

At least you would be able to take the kid and run now. At least there was that.

And then he felt hands knocking his way, significantly smaller hands push into the wound. He couldn’t even make a noise of pain; it didn’t hurt anymore. His vision cleared again and there you were once more, leaning over him with blood sprayed over your face, falling from a cut on your cheek.

No. No.

What were you doing??

You were supposed to escape. You were supposed to flee the mess he’d bought you into and take the kid and run.

He tried to speak, to convey these thoughts to you but his lips had stopped responding. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth. But somehow, it was like you got what he meant.

Your hands began to lift, and he had a weak wave of relief that was marred by the fresh soaking of blood that oozed out of his side. How much had he lost now?

Too much, by the cooling temperature of his body and the trembling that had begun.

He had come close to death before, so many times before but this felt different. This felt like he was losing something. Something that was just within reach but he hadn’t had the chance to grasp at yet. And it was being wrenched away, taken from him and trickling over the stones beneath him in a deep, scarlet puddle.

Maybe he’d begun to hallucinate too, because you were back, leaning over him, hands pressed into him again like they could stop the blood. He lifted his eyes and something in him curled up and panged when he saw that you were already gazing at him.

Gazing right into his eyes.

How you knew where they were, how you looked through the blackened visor without seeing, he didn’t know. But he could read the war raging inside of you, the battle off stay or go.

Go.

Mando tried to talk again, but only managed a faint noise, a croak that sounded so pitiful, he might have cringed at himself had he not started to hear a ringing in his ears. Time was nearly up, ticking away his life and that glimmer of something.

So, he instead just looked at you. You were clearly not made up yet, so he did something selfish.

He put his life in your hands.

If you left him here to die, he deserved it. It was justice. Justice for every ounce of pain he’d caused. The grief he’d doled out to mothers and fathers, sisters and brothers, children.

Justice for the life of treachery he had all but dumped Grogu into.

Justice for letting his parents die for him and not save them.

But, if you let him live…

Then he would try harder. He would repent for his mistakes.

He would make sure you were dropped somewhere safely. You couldn’t stay with him, he wrought death and destruction to those around him whether he meant it or not

But he could take you somewhere safe, maybe to Greef and Cara.

Then he would hunt down whoever came after you next, giving you the respite that he was going to keep for himself.

They were the options.

A deserved death, or a new determination to set right his mistakes.

These thoughts swum through his hazy brain at a surprisingly rapid pace, only a few seconds worth of time as he still watched what you would do with this choice. He could see that you understood, understood the choice he had selfishly bestowed upon you.

Only it was too late.

Heavy darkness thundered over him in an unrelenting tidal wave and with a choked gasp, he was dragged under, so deep he might have imagined your arms winding around his battered body, hauling him to his feet as much as you could.

His brain giving him one last reprieve, perhaps, or maybe a cruel taunt to what might have been before he was sucked under and everything went numb.

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#the mandalorian x force sensitive! reader #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x force sensitive! reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the force #star wars #the mandalorian #rogue #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal

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duchesschameleon · 4 years ago

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the way comfort grows

summary: five times Rafael Barba comforts Olivia Benson and the one time he admits there's something more to it. | ao3

pairing: Rafael Barba/Olivia Benson words: 5.5k a/n: huge, huge, huge thank you to @qvid-pro-qvo for the support, title, helping me finish this thing FINALLY, and the beta. literally this fic wouldn’t be done without you, I love you. if I tagged you in this, I think you’d like it

1 The first time Rafael Barba comforts Olivia Benson, he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it.

He knows his job, knows the facts, knows how to work a courtroom. He doesn’t know how to handle a detective who is questioning if he can get a jury to hand down a guilty verdict. There aren’t many people who doubt Rafael Barba, and those who do are usually reassured by his reputation and confidence. But Olivia Benson doubts him and it’s clear as day. It’s clear she doesn’t trust him to be empathetic with victims, that his main concerns are his case record and reputation. And if it is, so what? He’s an ADA, a prosecutor. His job is to take the facts to trial and present them in a way that shows the perp is in the wrong. He represents the law, he sways people. He tells stories and gets people to believe them. With the amount of prep it takes to bring sex crimes cases to trial, he doesn’t exactly have time to coddle and empathize people.

And yet, he finds himself assuring Olivia Benson. “Trust me, I know what I’m doing. You get me the evidence, the information, I’ve got the jury,” he tells her softly. She nods at him, the look in her eyes telling him he better be certain about it. And he doesn’t know what possesses him to do it but he’s opening his mouth again, “Really Olivia. I’ve got a plan. We’re gonna get this right and if the jury has any common sense they’ll be handing down the guilty verdict real quick. We’ve got this,” he says, resting a hand on her shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze.

And then he drops his hand, schooling his face into a neutral expression. His hand burns slightly, the contact unfamiliar and foreign. But he’d done it, on instinct he’d reached out to comfort Olivia Benson, to reassure her that justice would be served. And if he’s being honest with himself, he’s not totally sure why. Rafael Barba is not a comforting man to the people he works with. He is ruthless, stubborn, and focused. His typical brand of reassurance comes from a place of confidence, not comfort.

And yet, he comforted Olivia Benson and finds he wouldn’t mind doing it again.

2 The second time it happens, Rafael would swear that Olivia Benson has a tracker on him.

He’s not expecting to see her until the morning. He’s at a bar, eating dinner and having a drink while pouring over the case. But here she is, crestfallen and dejected as she tells him that her team hadn’t been able to turn up any female victims, making this case a hard win. Or so she thinks.

“You say that like it’s bad news,” he says, patting the barstool next to him. He explains the plan to Olivia, that if Jones turned down a woman and is only hunting gay men he can get extra years added to the sentence but she’s still skeptical. He can feel the adrenaline of a good court battle racing through him, the excitement of finding a way to nail this guy. But when he looks at Olivia’s face, there’s hesitance. She’s gripping her wine glass and he can see the tension in her hand. “Hey,” he says, catching her attention, “I’ve got this. If he refused a woman who was basically inviting him in, it shows a pattern and a preference. I can work with that, this is good.”

“But he’s a gay man married to another gay man, I just don’t know-”

Rafael puts a hand on Olivia’s arm, cutting her off. “It’s something, and I’m going to do everything I can to make it stick. There’s pattern, there’s preference.” His thumb is rubbing her arm, doing it subconsciously but it has the desired effect. She nods, meets his eyes and he can see that she believes him.

“Okay, then let’s get this son of a bitch.”

3 As Rafael Barba settles into the rhythm of the SVU squad and their cases he becomes closer to Olivia Benson. His moments of comfort for her become more commonplace, a bolstering smile or some reassuring words are more frequent than they once were.

And yet, the first time he hugs her still takes him by surprise. It happens within the first few weeks she’s back at SVU following her kidnapping and she’s still on edge. Rafael can tell, and he wonders absently when he got to know Olivia Benson that well, but it’s a moot point. He knows she’s on edge, that she’s not at the top of her game and he knows he wants to, needs to, do something but he doesn’t know what.

She’s pacing around his office, piecing together a case, thinking out loud. He’s listening absently, he’ll butt in if he needs to, but he knows this is how Liv thinks sometimes. Liv. When did he start calling her Liv? Sometime around their late night talks and walks between the courthouse, his office, and the precinct he supposes. She’s become such a staple in his life and he can’t exactly complain. Except that right now, she’s wearing a hole in his carpet pacing and her thinking aloud is spiraling and going in circles more than it's helping. So he knows he has to put a stop to it.

“Olivia, Liv,” he says, standing and placing his hands on her shoulders, “take a breath. We’ve got this, we’ve been over the case a million times. There’s nothing more we can do unless you manifest a witness or DNA or a pattern of behavior out of thin air. This one isn’t going our way, it happens,” he reminds her. She looks down at her feet, dejected and disappointed. Not in him he knows, in herself. “Hey, look at me,” he says ducking his head to meet her eyes, “it happens. We put up a good fight, you got me all you could, and I couldn’t bring it to the finish line. Doesn’t mean it wasn’t worth it.”

“But if we had-”

Rafael pulls on Liv’s shoulders, hauling her into a hug. It cuts her off more effectively than his words do. He can feel some of the tension leak out of her as he wraps his arms around her shoulders and feels her arms wrap around his waist. “It’s just the way the chips fall Liv, it happens. There’s nothing more you could have done,” he whispers against her ear. More tension leaves Liv’s body, she sinks into him and he holds her tighter, supports her like he always does.

4 After the first one, hugs between Liv and Rafael become frequent.

Rafael has learned over time that Liv is a tactile person. She might not vocally admit it, but the way she melts and relaxes when he squeezes her shoulder or holds her hand speaks volume. And if she sometimes turns to him for a hug in the privacy of their offices or at a bar after work as they discuss cases more? Well, it’s just another way for Rafael to support Liv.

Liv’s grown stronger and more confident as she continues therapy and gets separation from William Lewis. She becomes a sergeant, is named the commanding officer of SVU. There’s a swell of pride in Rafael’s chest when he sees the new name plate in her office, the markings of sergeant. Taking those steps at work helps Liv’s confidence, and then baby Noah helps her heart heal.

Rafael’s met Noah a few times now, Liv inviting him over to talk about a case instead of meeting him at a bar. He can’t say he’s totally comfortable around the baby, but with each visit he gets more used to him. And Noah makes Liv smile, makes her look at life beyond SVU and Rafael will always be grateful for things that make Olivia Benson smile.

He steps into her apartment, not fully knowing why he’s there. Just that she’d asked him over to talk about something they can’t discuss in the office. It puts Rafael on edge, and having to hold Noah isn’t helping him. He’s an only child, his cousins were close in age to him. Holding a toddler, a child of any age really, isn’t something he’s familiar with and he’s almost too happy to hand Noah back to Liv when she’s ready to settle in and talk.

“Johnny D is still in federal custody right?”

Rafael nods, explains that he was denied bail despite his lawyers’ best efforts.

“What if our investigation turns up information that Johnny D fathered a child,” Liv pauses and takes a steadying breath, “with Ellie Porter?”

Oh. That explains the meeting place and time, Liv’s nervousness and how she’s clinging to her little boy. Rafael can’t blame her, having Noah in her life has been the brightest light and best thing this past year. She’s smiling more and growing both at home and at work. And now this could threaten to take it all away, take away her light.

Rafael pauses and clenches his jaw. “This conversation is hypothetical as of now, okay?” He settles onto the couch and picks his words carefully, telling Liv that NYPD doesn’t have to disclose that Johnny D is Noah’s father. Given Noah’s early life and his history, there’s no way they could be expected to know Noah’s father. The fact isn’t exculpatory at all, there’s no need to disclose,” he explains. He’s racing through it in his head, going through all the possibilities and contingencies. There’s no need for it to be disclosed, it can’t be used to get Johnny D’s sentences reduced or rid him of his charges. No, letting this information out would only cause headaches for him and Liv, it’s not necessary nor is it useful.

“You’re certain? We don’t have to say anything?” Liv confirms, running her hands over Noah’s hair and holding him close.

Rafael reaches out and pats her on the back, “No, we don’t. He doesn’t have to ever find out.” They sit there in silence together, the secret Liv’s revealed hanging between them. Not for the first time, Rafael is grateful Noah has Liv. He has someone who loves him, cares for him, and will always be there for him. Who will show him love and kindness and a fun childhood. Noah needs Liv as much as Liv needs Noah and he’ll do anything he can to keep them together. The courts don’t need to know who Noah’s father is. No, they don’t. They don’t need that complication.

Rafael stays with Liv a little longer, reassuring her and playing with Noah. This little boy with a great smile who is going to permanently be a part of their little SVU family soon, once Liv’s papers are finished and the judge signs off. Rafael can’t imagine life without Noah now, can’t imagine Liv without him. His heart clenches at the thought of Liv losing Noah, how it would hurt her and how much he’d miss the little boy. No, the courts don’t need to know that Johnny D is Noah’s father. No one needs the pain that’ll bring.

When he stands to leave he gives Liv a strong hug. “They don’t have to know, this doesn’t change anything,” he says again. He presses a kiss to Liv’s hair, the scent of her shampoo filling his nostrils and flooding his senses. God, what he wouldn’t do for this woman. He’d move the world, face down any jury, just to make sure she keeps smiling and gets to keep her little boy. “They don’t have to know, and he’s not gonna take Noah from you. I promise you that.” He presses another kiss to her hair before stepping back to leave. She meets his eyes and nods, silently thanking him. Rafael returns it and leaves the apartment, his chest filled with a warm feeling. He doesn’t know what it is and he doesn’t want to think about it too long. Thinking about it too much leads to rabbit holes he won’t ever leave. Dreaming of a future with Liv, with Noah, a future where he gets to comfort Liv daily and remind her that everything will be okay.

But it’s just a dream, he reminds himself as he shakes his head and walks out the building.

5 Comforting Olivia Benson is second nature to Rafael Barba.

They’ve known each other now for five years, and over that time Rafael has lost count of the hugs, the forehead kisses, the bolstering talks, and the late nights spent reassuring one another. Comfort is a two way street in their friendship and truthfully a staple in it.

And it’s just a friendship. Rafael tells himself this repeatedly, tells himself he comforts Liv to restore her faith in her team, herself, and him. It’s all about the job, it all ties back to the job someway. He’s her equal, she doesn’t have to be the strong lieutenant that has it all figured out when it’s the two of them. She can lean on him and let him be strong and it’s become harder and harder to convince himself it’s just a friendship and part of the job the more often it happens.

Because if he really thinks about it and analyzes it, Rafael Barba is in love with Olivia Benson.

Each threshold crossed in their relationship marks how deep it runs and how close they’ve gotten. The more he comforts her, the more he wants to continue doing it and make sure that her world isn’t completely bleak. The more he wants to protect her and reassure her things will all turn out right.

But he won’t and more importantly, he can’t. Because theirs is a friendship born of late nights working cases together and dinner discussing discovery and how to gather evidence, how a trial is going and who’s going to need to testify. It’s a friendship born out of proximity to each other, the way their worlds are intertwined because of their jobs and nothing else.

Rafael Barba might love Olivia Benson, but he has no proof she loves him back. And that’s okay, he has her friendship and they work well together. He wouldn’t want to upset that balance, the partnership they have and the lengths they’re willing to go to for each other.

And really, Liv is testing those lengths today.

“Hey Rafa, I know it’s Thursday night but any chance you can come watch Noah for me?,” Liv asks hurriedly, “They need me at the precinct and Lucy’s busy tonight. I put him down 15 minutes ago so you shouldn’t need to do much, just be here to make sure he’s okay and in case he gets up. I wouldn’t ask unless I had -”

“Yeah, of course I can,” Rafael interrupts her. “Give me two minutes and then I’m on my way.”

“You’re a lifesaver, I’ll see you soon.”

Seeing Liv ends up being a less than three minute interaction as she pulls on a coat and gets out the door and tells Rafael where the monitor is and what to do if Noah gets up. Rafael nods along as he follows Liv to the door, ready to lock it once she’s gone.

“Thank you so much again, you’re the only person I could think to call,” Liv says breathlessly.

“Liv, it’s no problem, go, they need you at the precinct.” Rafael lightly pushes Liv out the door and waves goodbye. It’ll be fine, he’ll be okay and Noah will sleep the whole time. He’d had the sense to grab some files before he sprinted out of his apartment, desperate to get to Liv’s and calm her nerves so she could go be Lieutenant Benson. He’ll sit on the couch and work, probably make coffee too. He’ll be fine.

So Rafael settles in, he makes his coffee and relaxes on the couch. He pulls his files towards him and gets to work, building question trees and playing out all the possibilities for trial, the kind of work best done without interruptions.

“Uncle Rafa? Where’s Mommy?”

His head shoots up and finds Noah, looking very sleepy in his pjs, standing by the couch. Rafael checks his watch and sees that he’s been here for an hour. There’s been no word from Liv, so she’s nowhere near getting home. He clicks his pen closed and puts it on the coffee table and turns to Noah, “Your mom got called into work, so she asked me to come hang out with you. What’s up Noah, why are you awake?”

Noah rubs his eyes and it makes something in Rafael’s chest clench, squeezing his heart. He likes Noah, Noah is a massive part of Liv’s life and has thus become a part of his life. He cares for the boy and spends time with him, but something about tonight, about Liv trusting him with Noah, pulls that feeling deeper.

“Had a dream, it woke me up,” Noah says softly and Rafael puts his full attention on Noah.

“A bad dream?” Noah nods. “Hey, c’mere, do you want to tell me about it? Or should we read a story together to chase it away?” Noah shrugs as he shuffles over to Rafael and climbs onto the couch. Instinctively, Rafael puts an arm around Noah and draws him close. Noah snuggles in and again, Rafael’s heart squeezes. He files the feeling away, deciding to analyze it later in favor of focusing on Noah now.

“I had a dream about monsters getting to Mommy,” Noah says bluntly. He’s clinging to Rafael’s arm, more tactile than usual but given this nightmare Rafael understands. “And then she’s not in her bed and you’re here. Is she okay?”

Rafael huffs out a breath, he’s certainly an observant and smart kid to correlate Liv’s job with danger. But praising him for that would be counterproductive, he reminds himself, so he simply hugs Noah and says, “she’s at the precinct with Uncle Fin, Aunt Amanda, and Uncle Sonny. She’s okay, they just needed her there.”

“Why?”

“Because your mom is the best and they can’t do anything without her. Someone has to tell Uncle Sonny what to do, right?” Rafael jokes and Noah giggles. It’s the best feeling, to make Liv’s little boy smile and quell his fears. But he knows that joking will only do so much. He thinks on it for a minute, he doesn’t know if he can call Liv, if she’ll answer, and he doesn’t want to panic her and pull her away from work either. “How does this sound Noah, I’ll text your mom and ask her how things are going and you and I can cuddle on your bed while we wait for her response. And I’ll stay with you until you're asleep. Does that sound good?” Rafael looks Noah in the face, searching for any apprehension or concerns.

“Deal,” Noah says with a tentative smile. So Rafael texts Liv, just checking in and letting her know things are good at home, before he picks Noah up and carries him to his room. They settle on the bed together, Noah curled into Rafael’s side. Rafael wraps an arm around the little boy and hums a lullaby softly. He pulls it from the recesses of his memory, something his abuelita used to sing to him as a young boy. It’s working, Noah’s eyes slowly closing as he nods off. Rafael can only hope it’s expelling the bad dreams and leading him to a peaceful sleep.

He fights it though, forces his eyes open to look up at Rafael. “Did Mommy text?” he asks, words running together.

“She did Noah, she said everything is okay, she’ll be a bit longer. Another hour maybe. She’ll come in to give you a kiss before she goes to bed,” Rafael reads and Noah nods, finally burrowing further into his blankets and closing his eyes. After a few minutes, his breathing evens out and he’s asleep. Rafael stays on the edge of the bed, arm wrapped around Noah, and watches the boy.

There’s a warmth spreading in his chest as he watches Noah sleep peacefully, checking for any signs of a nightmare or him waking up. It’s a similar feeling to the one he gets when he looks at Liv, when he comforts her. A longing for a life he never thought he could have, and a protectiveness. A want to be around always and make the hurt go away, to reassure them that things will be alright.

Rafael loves Noah. Of course, it’s different than how he loves Liv but it’s still there. The pull to be around the young boy, to be there for him and be someone he can lean on. Noah’s not just Liv’s son anymore. Not just a person that Rafael interacts with because he’s in Liv’s life. Rafael cares about Noah as his own person, wants to make sure he’s okay and cared for and thriving. That he has a good life. That he has someone to lean on when needed.

It’s a shocking realization, that the boy he was once scared to hold and who’s toys he tripped over is now a child that he wants to protect and see more often and care for and love. That he wants to laugh with Noah, to spend time with him even without Liv around. And maybe he should have realized this when he agreed to come to Liv’s without persuasion to watch Noah, but regardless it’s there. Rafael loves Noah.

He huffs out a silent laugh, still not entirely sure how he ended up in this situation but also not mad about it. Noah’s a good kid, a caring kid, and being a part of his life wouldn’t be such a bad thing. And if Rafael can make sure Noah and Liv are always smiling, always cared for, always protected? That sounds like a very good thing indeed.

+1 After six years, Rafael Barba knows how to comfort Olivia Benson.

Or he usually does. Noah missing has been hard on all of them. To see Liv in this state, lost and out of control is affecting all of them. The team holds it together pretty well without Liv’s leadership, but he can see they’re missing her. He feels lost, not fully knowing how to help her. And her breakdown, just saying that all she wants is her son…it haunts him.

But he shakes his head before he approaches Liv’s apartment, he needs to clear his mind and just be here for her. Noah’s been back for a few days but Rafael knows Liv, knows she’s probably still on edge and nervous about who’s around and where he is. So he knocks, listens to Liv and vows silently in his head to be there for her and for Noah. To make them both feel safe, feel comforted, feel loved.

Liv’s apologizing for rambling and it pulls Rafael back to the present, “I came here to talk to my friend about whatever she wants to talk about.” There’s a pause, and Liv is searching his face as if doubting his words and looking for the truth. It sends a pang through Rafael’s heart, he truly does just want to be there for Liv. To listen to her, to support her, to help her through it. He keeps his face open and warm, something learned from her over the years. After a beat he says, “is she gonna ask me in?” And Liv’s stepping back, acting as if she’d forgotten her manners when Rafael knows her mind is still putting the pieces of the last few days together and it’s understandable.

He’s the last to arrive, but he figured that would be the case when he left his apartment. It’s okay, Noah’s there and it settles something in him to see the little boy again. He’d gotten the text that Noah was okay, that he was with Liv and safe and on his way back to New York but seeing him finally puts something to rest in his chest. But as always, Rafael shoves it aside in favor of talking to Noah about the deer and settling next to Carisi at the coffee table and building robots. It’s a simple, low-key night of their family. The SVU family, this rag-tag bunch of people that he works with on a regular basis and somewhere over the last few years come to care for. Even Sonny Carisi.

It’s a simple night that warms Rafael’s heart. He knows that Liv is upset about Noah losing his grandmother, that she’s mad at herself for jumping at the chance to include his biological grandmother in his life and missing possible red flags. And Rafael knows he’ll be there to remind her that it’s not her fault, she did nothing wrong, and that Noah does have a family. He has his aunt and uncles from SVU who love him so much and helped his mom go against Chief Dodds’ orders that she not work the case, people who care about him. People who love him.

Rafael stays later than everyone else, making up for being late is what he tells himself. There’s a voice in the back of his head that says there’s another reason, one that has to do more with Liv than Noah but Rafael ignores it. He cleans up the toys they’d all been playing with, collects dishes, and cleans them while Liv puts Noah to bed. He’s lingering, he knows it, but he can’t bring himself to leave just yet either.

“He’s down, for now,” Liv says as she walks into the kitchen, picking up a towel to dry the dishes Rafael’s washed. He nods, and they settle into a comfortable silence. Rafael can tell Liv is still on edge, can feel the nerves buzzing off her but he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t know what to say, or how to comfort her. None of his usual tricks seem right, she’s long past physical comfort or words of assurance. A drink doesn’t feel right and neither does talking it through. Liv has been through hell and back, Noah was taken and she’d let Sheila into their lives. So how does he comfort this woman he cares for?

How does he tell her that he’d been worried as well, that hearing Noah was taken, was missing, felt like getting ice shot through his heart? That he was on edge the whole time and felt helpless, stuck at Hogan Place with his own cases and workload but yearning to be with Liv? That when he did get to check on her part of his not knowing what to do came from the worry and fear that was gripping him? How does he tell Liv that when she’s just gotten Noah back and needs to focus on him, not on Rafael?

“Hey, what’s rattling around in that big head?” Liv asks, patting his shoulder and breaking his train of thought.

“Shouldn’t I be the one looking after you?” Rafael shoots back. It takes a moment for his words to register, when they do his cheeks heat up and he squeezes his eyes shut. Shit, shit, shit. “I meant more that I-”

“Rafa, it’s okay.” She’s squeezing his shoulder and he sighs, knowing he has to say something to her. Has to say something about the fact that she’s more than a friend to him.

“But I mean it Liv, I should be here for you. Asking how you are, helping out. Whatever you need from me, I’m here.” He reaches up to grab her hand and holds on, squeezing it. “I’m here for you Liv, for you and Noah. God, you know that when you texted me you had him and were on your way back to New York I felt the biggest sense of relief? And seeing him tonight, it was like the fear that had been gripping my heart for days finally released. And if I felt like that, I can only imagine how you felt. As his mother, the person who’s there for him all the time.”

The words are pouring out of him at this point, like a dam has been broken. “And then I got the craziest thought, that god forbid something had happened to him, what was the last thing we did together? Have I spent enough time with him, with you? And I promised myself I’d do everything I can to spend more time with him. And with you, though we see each other a lot at work but outside of that. I want to be here, for you and for Noah.” Rafael takes a breath, absentmindedly wondering if he’s even making any sense at this point.

“Rafa, what are you saying?” Liv asks warily, an eyebrow cocked at him. Of course he sounds crazy, he’s rambling in a way he never does unless he’s stressed and even then, it’s never this bad. Never this incoherent.

“I’m saying I care Liv. About you, about Noah. I want to be there for both of you. Liv, you gotta know I care. I care so much about you, about Noah, outside of the job and on it. You bring out this human side of me that, well, I think it makes me better, a better man and a better ADA, and it’s you Liv. And I’m what I’m trying to say in this convoluted, turnaround way is that I care. I more than care, I love you Olivia Benson. And however you want me in your life, I’m there. I want to be here for you and for Noah. Because I love both of you and I know that this isn’t going to be easy but I want to be here and help.”

It’s out there. He said the words - sandwiched amongst other ones and at the end of a winding rant - but he said them. And Liv is staring at him, her eyes searching his and definitely guarded because, well. Noah was just kidnapped. Of course she’s being guarded and cautious. But she’s still holding his hand. Still standing close. It’s something, something Rafael can hold onto and take solace in. She’s here and she’s not backing away. So he reaches for her other hand where it’s resting on the counter and grabs hold of it too.

“Liv,” he says, going to back to the nickname he’s more comfortable with, “I love you. I love Noah. Please, let me be here for both of you and help. Please.”

She’s nodding, her eyes searching his. Looking for the catch, for the caveat. But he just holds her gaze and squeezes her hands. She gives him a small smile, a reassurance that she hears him. And then she’s tugging him into a hug, her arms winding around his shoulders and holding on tight. Rafael snakes his arms around her waist, strong and sure. He knows he wants this, wants to be there for Liv in any way she needs him to be. So he holds her, feels her melt in to him and holds her tight. He presses a kiss to the side of her head, like’s done before in her office or his or on the steps of the courthouse. A grounding thing, a comforting thing. A sign again that he’s there and he cares.

She pulls back from where she’d buried her head in his neck, eyes meeting his again. “You love me?” she asks, his words fully registering.

He smiles at her, small and honest. Not like his big, brash ones at the courthouse, but small and private, personal. “I love you Olivia Benson,” he repeats. “I love you and I want to be here for you, for Noah. Not just now, but always.” He takes a breath, pausing to let his words sinks in. After a moment he asks, “Liv, can I kiss you?”

She nods, and he moves slowly towards her, giving Liv the time to back away still. But she’s meeting him in the middle and when their lips brush, there aren’t fireworks. There’s no flash of feelings, no dam being broken. It’s like a sigh, a relief. Kissing Liv feels as natural as any of the other ways he’s comforted her over the years. There’s a warm feeling spreading through his chest, relieving any tension or nerves he’d had. It’s love he knows, love he feels as his lips press harder into Olivia’s. As his lips move over hers, stealing breaths and gasps. He pulls back slightly, rests his forehead on hers, and waits for her eyes to open.

“Rafa, how long have you waited to do that?”

“Too long Liv, but we got there. That’s what matters.” And it is. It doesn’t matter that she can tell he’s harbored feelings for her for a long time, that they could have had this for who knows how long. Rafael knows they have it now, they got here, and in the end that’s truly all that matters.

tags: @qvid-pro-qvo, @hurricanejjareau, @writefasttalkevenfaster

#law and order: svu #rafael barba #olivia benson #barson #rafael barba x olivia benson #law and order: svu fanfic #rafael barba fanfiction #olivia benson fanfiction #my writing

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sophiamcdougall · 5 years ago

Text

EXPLAINING SANREMO

(PART 1) Last week I was swept away, helpless, by the avalanche that is the Sanremo Song Festival and I am still recovering. For your safety, I’ve tried to keep the insanity contained on my Italian side blog. But I want to try to offer you a rough summary of what I’ve learned. Sanremo inspired the Eurovision Song Contest. Over five nights, 24 acts, each with a brand new song, compete at the Ariston theatre in Sanremo for a tacky little golden lion, and the glory of being the year’s Song for Italy. 2020 marked the 70th Sanremo, so depending on who you ask, it’s a venerable national treasure or it’s stale and embarrassing (Many Italians are sick of it. Or say they are, but see below.) It is also an EPIC STRUGGLE between THE FORCES OF GOOD AND EVIL FOR THE SOUL OF HUMANITY Let’s meet some of the protagonists:

AKA: host Amadeus, entertainer and comedian Rosario Fiorello, il Bel Paese, and competitor Achille Lauro.

Amadeus got things off to a bad start before the show even began by praising his various female co-hosts - all seasoned TV professionals - for their beauty and their ability to stay “a step behind a man.” Outrage ensues, Amadeus claims he did not mean it like that, but keep this in mind for later. Also competing are Morgan (below, left) and Bugo (below, right.), who are performing a duet.

Going in, the one thing I know about Morgan is that on more than one occasion, he trashtalked my beloved and blameless Fabrizio Moro. So I hate him and want him to suffer. And apparently he has quite the reputation for throwing tantrums, picking on fellow-artists and sabotaging events he’s part of. But hey. He’s supposedly talented and Bugo clearly thinks he deserves another chance. And we’re off!

Irene Grandi kicks things off with “Finalmente Io” (“Finally Me”). But I’m starting with her not so much because she’s the first to sing as because I don’t think the song’s got enough attention -- either for the fact that it bangs or for what it represents in the drama that’s about to unfold.

Finalmente Io is what, in the business, we call foreshadowing.

There’s a magical thing that happens to women with when they turn 40. The develop Not-Giving-A-Fuck superpowers. The song is basically about that. It’s about freedom, and self-acceptance, and being 100% done with male bullshit. (It's also a bit of an ADHD anthem but let’s leave that aside for now.) “I’ve lost all my patience, and all my fragility,” she sings.

And, “If you want sex, let’s do it now. Heeeeeeere.”

Irene is the portent everyone misses, a harbinger of what is to come.

Think of her as John the Baptist. Onwards. So the first thing one discovers about the Sanremo Festival is that just because we have to get through 24 “big” acts AND 6 (?) new/junior artists, and they all have to perform multiple times, that doesn’t mean there’s any RUSH. Guest singers wander on and perform a song or ten. There’s comedy. We can stop everything to talk about football. A lady comes on and talks for a million years about how her granny taught her that True Beauty is Found Within. There are also speeches about important subjects like violence against women. In fact, we are going to talk about that a lot, but also a bunch of competent and experienced female TV personalities are stuck taking turns at playing Amadeus’s Glamorous Assistant of the evening and he can’t shut up about how beautiful they all are while they cringe and lean subtly away from him. So it’s ... slow, and awkward, but within its own cheesy terms, things are normal. Too normal. Enter Achille Lauro.

Softly, almost whispering, he begins to sing a song called “Me ne frego” (”I don’t care” - but with an edge of “fuck you”). This is both an everyday Italian expression and a fascist motto. Well, it was till now.

A nation is convulsed. Right-wing Italian boomers are screaming because YOU! CAN’T! DO! THAT! AT! SANREMO! THERE! ARE! CHILDREN! WATCHING! Italian Tumblr, which like the rest of Tumblr is feral, thirsty and gay, is screaming for different reasons entirely.

Achille, you scandalous creature, what have you done? What have you got to say for yourself?

Something strange and magical has released and it cannot be contained. On with the songs. Good songs, bad songs, blah songs. I like “Tikibombom” by Levante - a love letter to weirdos and rebels, “Rosso di Rabbia” (Rage Red) by Anastasio about being, well, angry but scared you can’t do anything useful with it, and “Eden” by Rancore, about... the nature of sin?? touching on everything from September 11 to the mafia to Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. However, this contest is being judged (mostly - it’s complicated) by an industry jury of FOOLS, COWARDS, and TRAITORS who KNOW NOT WHAT THEY DO, so virtually all of the above artists are so far languishing towards the bottom of the provisional rankings. Achille ends up in 17th place and Rancore at 22.

Truly, the light hath shone in the darkness and the darkness knoweth it not.

LOOK WHAT YOU’VE DONE TO RANCORE.

Rapper down, repeat RAPPER DOWN. SEND HELP.

However, for people who went in implacably biased against Morgan, it’s not all bad news. "Sincero” (Sincere) by Morgan and Bugo is in last place. Whether this is anything to do with the song or because Morgan is a nightmare of a person who has systematically alienated everyone in the Italian music industry except the trusting Bugo ... we can but ponder. Sanremo grinds on. Days blur into each other and I’m not even going to try to cover events in exact order. Sanremo knows no order. Sanremo is like the universe, linear time is a construct that doesn’t really exist, and chaos happens very, very slowly. But meanwhile, somewhere on the astral plane:

At least that is what I deduce must have happened.

The competitors and guests look deep within themselves. Do they have what it takes? Are they ready to answer the call?

Let’s see! It’s Covers Night! Which is also Duets Night!

That’s Elettra Lamborghini (yes, that Lamborghini) and Myss Keta.

Are they in tune? No. Does it matter? ALSO NO.

Meanwhile ... something strange is brewing between Amadeus and Fiorello...

But wait, PLOT TWIST.

Enter Roberto Benigni.

The beloved actor and director is the latest avatar of the Dionysian frenzy that has chosen Sanremo 2020 for the place of its birth. He is the One who will unite the electric queer mayhem and the impossible grinding tedium of Sanremo. In him, the two strains will fuse and become unstoppable. He is going to talk about sex for twenty-six minutes

He reads from the Song of Songs, which ... I knew it was sexy, and all, but is it really like that? Do you ever think about NAKED BODIES? Roberto does. Do you believe in PHYSICAL LOVE? Roberto wishes you would. Anyway, just think of all the sex we could all be having, literally right now, right heeeeere, whether we are “a woman, and her man. Or a man and his man. Or a woman, and her woman!” He is awful. He is magnificent. He is excruciating. He is spellbinding. We are hanging on his every word and we are considering chewing our own arms off to escape. He proposes an orgy in the orchestra pit.

Hand on heart, all of that happened. Italian Tumblr, bear witness.

And what of Achille Lauro? He unleashed this madness upon us all, is he just going to sit back and let everyone else do all the work? Of course not. Achille Lauro came to bring not peace, but a sword, to the world of toxic masculinity and gender in general and his work is not yet done.

”I too was once a little girl,” Achille sings.

Dressed as Bowie-as-Ziggy, Achille duets with Annalisa on “Gli Uomini Non Cambiano” - “Men Don’t Change”. It’s a heartbreaking song by Mia Martini from 1992 about male abuse of women, and not a single word, or a single pronoun has been changed.

However, although he’s the one in the competition, and the one dressed to dazzle, he leaves Annalisa the spotlight. It’s like she’s the tortured protagonist of the song and he’s a voice in her head, a sympathetic spirit who can’t swoop in to rescue her but can quietly affirm that she deserves better than the the hellish treatment she’s singing about. in fact, he pointedly stays a step behind her at all times. And she’s majestic.

Of course, he’s not fucking DONE

He’s still got to sing “Me Ne Frego” again. Can he top the cape-drop? You be the judge.

So Italian Tumblr, is now writhing on the carpet, making a sound only bats can hear, and shitposting itself into delirium, but has it all been ENOUGH?

NO.

Poor Rancore has died again. Toxic masculinity still exists. Amadeus is still pretty gross. Everyone is going to have to GAY HARDER. CAN THEY DO IT? This post is, like Sanremo itself, getting insanely long, so ... STAY TUNED FOR PART TWO, in which Fiorello’s true nature as a chaos being is revealed, Amadeus faces his Calvary, and the gun on the stage goes off. ----- UPDATE: Part 2 is here

#Sanremo #Sanremo 2020 #Explaining Sanremo #Achille Lauro #Explaining Sanremo Part 1

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imaginethebeautifulworld · 4 years ago

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Imagine this: You are at a small party and you get bored with all the mindless chattering and gossip. You say you need some fresh air and head outside. Sighing, you place your wine glass down on a table and take off your heels. "Good evening.", a voice calls out from behind you. Your eyes meet mesmerizing scarlet. You know this man. But does he know you? "May I have this dance, my fellow outcast?" Smiling as you cringe at his words, you take his hand. (1/2)

Holy shit, Anon!

Before I start, I need to tell you that I am obsessed with this ask, and literally started mentally writing this the MINUTE I read through. Please pardon a little creative license; I couldn't resist. Hope you enjoy!

Edit 22 Oct. 2021- As a special request, there is another part to this fic, told from Gil’s perspective this time. Thank you for reading!

It isn't as hard to slip away from the festivities as it should be; everyone is already so deep into their drinks that they wouldn't really notice even if you did made an effort to announce your departure.

You take the miracle at face value however, weaving through various groups and couples to the kitchen, topping up your single glass of wine and stealing a few pieces of food.

For a few minutes, all is quiet in your little haven, only the soft lighting from the stove and a jack-o-lantern keeping you company. You finish off a few bites, and just as you're about to grab some more food, a couple stumbles through the doorway, oblivious to everyone and everything.

Deciding you would rather leave than interrupt them, you slip out the back door, closing it softly behind you.

Sunset is painting the sky in vibrant lilac and rose, birdsong still carrying across the yard. The day is still fairly warm, and you slip your shoes off with a sigh, wiggling your toes through the grass as you make your way to a white bistro set.

There are two empty chairs, and you happily take the nearest one, setting your glass on the table, happy to melt into the iron.There is nothing except the beautiful sky and a newfound inner peace. Blessed silence after all the hullabaloo and gossipmongering from the past hour.

"G'evenin'."

Dammit.

You hadn't noticed anyone else slipping outside, or hanging out in the yard. And now you'll have to make small talk again and feign interest in whatever pointless topics come up. Terrific.

Not bothering to even glance at your companion, who is already making himself comfortable in the other chair, you offer a frustrated sigh. "Hi."

"Oof. Little bitterness there."

Whoever he is, he sounds concerned, if not bemused.

Despite your irritation at having your privacy interrupted, you don your manners once more, turning to him with a smile you don't really feel. "Long night, sorry."

He hums. "That I get. More like a long week I think."

The admission and his tone have you breathing out the ghost of a laugh. "You got me there."

He's surprisingly quiet for a few minutes, seemingly just as content as you are to watch the skyscape. You find you're not nearly as uncomfortable with the company as you would have expected.

Subtly, you try to figure out exactly who he is, though the design of his mask makes it absolutely impossible. Really, the only thing you can make out are his eyes, a vibrant red you're sure are contacts.

You can't help but ogle his costume; he's dressed as if he stepped right out of a portrait, and if you didn't know better you would swear that was a genuine sapphire resting against his chest. And then there's his mask-

Scarlet eyes flicker your way, his lips turning up in a grin when he realizes you've been staring. "See something you like?"

You're far too embarrassed, yet somehow- "Jury's still out."

The grin grows even bigger, showing off the fangs that complete his ensemble.

With how pale he is, you mentally decide, it's the perfect outfit for him.

You had thrown yours together on a whim, using a thrifted evening dress, hand-me-down jewelry, and a fake tiara you had worn a few times during your childhood. Ironically, the only part of your ensemble that was expensive is the mask itself, a custom piece that cost more than the rest of your outfit put together.

Now, sitting next to someone who looks like he stepped out of the 1800s, obnoxiously blue jacket and all, you feel a little underdressed, the feeling passing by as you realize he's discarded his own shoes and socks sometime ago.

There's something familiar about him, his slight slouch teasing at a memory from long ago.

You would think, considering how few people are actually here, you would recognize him, would be able to figure out who he is.

But his eyes are strangers to you, his voice is... unique.

The not-knowing is more aggitating than his company, enough that it is the sole reason for your next words to him.

"As lovely as this has been, do you mind?"

There's no real expression on his face as he turns to you. "Nope. Do you?"

That was a challenge. You can see it in his eyes, heard the playful hitch in his voice. God help you, he's annoying.

"Yes, actually." Deciding to press further, because why-the-hell not, you offer your own challenge. "You're interrupting my alone time."

"Pardon the intrusion, milady, but I'm pretty sure this is neutral territory."

"I was here first," you retort, a bit childishly.

He snorts, folding his arms across his chest, falling further into his chair, posture absolutely intended to mock you. "Were you, though?"

Dammit, he had you.

You shoot him a scathing look, one that was frankly just a little on the playful side, before folding your own arms and pretending to scowl at the setting sun.

A few more minutes pass, before you hear his voice again. "So..." he says, dragging out the sound in a pointed attempt at getting you to talk to him.

You ignore him, or you attempt to at least. It's kind of hard to do that when he's standing now, just inside your peripheral, head turned towards the heavens.

Finally realizing that you have no plans of responding, he takes another step, now more-or-less directly in your line of sight. "Why're you alone out here? Party's inside, ya know."

You level an unamused stare at his pointed question, a hint of bemusement coating your reply. "I could ask you the same thing."

He smirks, some quick, passing thing, before he hides it behind a small sip of his beer. "Touché."

Somehow, that brief exchange has revitalized you, and you take another drink from your wine, watching some birds make their final rounds for the evening.

The sky is shifting, darkening with each passing moment. And inside, the party is getting louder, laughter carrying out to you from the still partially open door.

He glances back towards the house, an odd expression on his face. You follow his gaze, almost instinctively, turning back to him curiously when you can't determine the cause of his- Discomfort? Irritation?

"You ever just want to run away?"

His question takes you by surprise, and you feel your heart constrict when his focus once more turns to you, achingly familiar eyes seemingly- haunted.

Whatever annoyance you had held previously is gone, replaced with something you don’t really recognize.

Trying to ignore it, you nearly default to the normal lie that comes with small talk, especially with strangers, but there's something so familiar about him-

You give yourself a minute to actually weigh his question, tasting different answers on your tongue. It teases you, the temporary daydream of just hitting the road, abandoning everything and everyone you know to start a new life elsewhere.

After a few moments- really, it could have been an Infinity or merely seconds- you have your answer.

"I'd be lying if the thought didn't appeal to me sometimes."

He hums, sounding somewhat detached, turning once more to study the treeline. There's a heaviness around him now, an aura that almost hurts to see.

"Something tells me it's been on your mind lately?"

He studies you for some time, and maybe it's the lighting or just the contacts, but you could swear his eyes are almost glowing. Finally he offers a small shrug, all that negativity seeming to disappear into thin air.

"Eh. Comes and goes. Let's just say my cousin's really pissing me off."

You huff a laugh at the statement, thinking of your own loved ones inside, and how tipsy they were already when you first slipped outside. "Family, am I right?"

He hisses slightly, apparently his own form of laughter, that smile once more teasing the left corner of his mouth.

Silence reclaims the pair of you for a few more moments, and as awkward as it could have been- He's good company. After spending so long having to mindlessly chatter about the weather and ambitions, it was nice to simply breathe.

Your companion- it’s still bothering you that you don’t know his name- seems as at ease as you are, content to lean against the table as if he owns the place.

The sunlight is almost completely gone now, the waxing moon taunting you from behind a few scattered clouds painted in amethyst. The stars are not so shy, several distinct constellations already twinkling above you.

With the coming night, there's a chill creeping closer, a crispness to the air that has you sighing in contentment.

He seems to mistake the sound, eyes flashing with concern as he turns back to you. "Cold?"

Your denial is barely even formed before his jacket is over your shoulders, his lingering warmth already starting to seep into your bones.Your mouth opens in a small protest- Seriously, how dare he just assume!- but seeing how instinctively he had done it, how it almost seemed his second-nature-

Rather than offer up any protests, you sigh out a small thank you, and soon slide your arms into the sleeves, marveling at how warm the damn thing is despite how thin it is.

There is another round of laughter inside, and someone decides to raise the volume of the speakers.

Some orchestral piece is playing, a haunting melody that you felt befit a Gothic novel, a spellbinding spectrum of emotions carrying past the still opened door.

You see your companion shift, straightening his posture as he turns his attention back to you. Curious, brow raising slightly, you glance over at him, wondering at his next move.

Shockingly, he's bowing, a right, proper bow, before standing upright once more, a soft smile just noticeable. "May I have this dance, my fellow outcast?"

Oh God-

"You are ridiculous," you're laughing out, even as you take his offered hand.

He's grinning again, a playful look that fits him far better than some of the ones he's had on before. "It's all part of my charm!"

You're rolling your eyes, still smiling despite yourself.

It's only when he's guiding your hands to a ballroom position that you feel the first flickers of panic. You had been expecting maybe some swaying or just kind of shuffling, not-

"Relax, would ya?"

You meet his eyes, immediately reassured by the soft expression there, eased from that inexplicable familiarity. He isn't going to pressure you, and somehow you know he will always have your back.

"Just follow my lead; I've got ya."

You believe him.

Despite not even knowing his name, what a majority of his face looks like, or even what accent that is-

You believe him, and you decide to trust him.

Letting go is a strange sensation, one you're not entirely sure you dislike. He seems to know you're a novice, goes at a tempo that he can easily guide you through. Despite never having danced like this before, a few moments in you feel as if a part of you has been reawakened, the next steps coming to you before he begins to move into them.

He seems almost proud of your progress, your dance becoming more a partnership with each passing moment.

The song had shifted a long while ago- now some creepy lofi piece with samplings from a children's cartoon- yet your pace remained the same.

"So..." He puts out into the air, a pensive prompt that has you smiling.

"So," you repeat curiously.

There's another weird expression, fading away before you can analyze it.

"What's your name?"

Maybe it's the thrill of anonymity, or maybe you're too caught up in the giddiness of your newly discovered talent. Instead of giving him a straight answer, you playfully offer: "Someone smarter than Cinderella's Prince Charming."

Pensive, you offer an extra thought. "I know the power of a name; who knows what you'd do with it."

The comment seems to amuse him, that achingly familiar smile returning as he guides you into a dip. He hovers there for a moment, slightly pensive. "You know, Prince Charming is a lot smarter than you give him credit for."

He's guiding you back up, his eyes glowing once you're upright again. "He could do more with his beloved's name than she could even begin to imagine."

That last line, a whisper meant just for the two of you, is digging at you, tugging at some memory buried deep, deep in your subconscious.

There's something there, a name starting to shape on your lips-

But then he's doing that half-shrug again, dismissing the exchange entirely. "No matter. Keep your secrets, princess."

The last word was spoken with such fondness that your heart actually skipped a beat.

He barely gives you a moment to process, pulling you into a different routine that soon has the rest of the world fading away again. You let yourself forget everything else for a while; you exist only in this moment, dancing on the grass with a stranger.

Except, he's not a stranger, is he?

God help you, you know this is the first time you've met him, know that you've never interacted with this man before in your life, but you know him.

With every minute you spend with him, you imagine all kinds of moments with him-

Laughter as he wipes chocolate cake off his cheek from an impromptu food fight, annoyance at his cousin's lecturing, the soft smile of pride as he listens to his brother's speech.

And dammit, he never even mentioned having a brother.

But the daydreams keep coming.

Holding his hand in some cobblestoned square, racing through the woods, collapsing into a freshly constructed snow fort, lazing in bed running your fingers through his hair while he reads aloud-

They're so vivid that you're starting to wonder if you lived an entire life with him already.

And God, doesn't that make you sound so ridiculous.

You've only just met this guy, literally know maybe five things about him, and yet you're already imagining a future with him.

Life isn't some fairietale, and despite the tiara you're wearing for the night, you are not a princess. Shit like this isn't real.

But the way he's looking at you, watching you with such vulnerability and longing-

He's pulling you closer, your eyes drifting shut reflexively.

You feel his breath teasing your neck, his hand pulling you closer to him.

You-

A familiar voice is calling your name.

You barely hear it over the sound of your racing heart beat, over his. Your eyes flash open in irritation, though not at him. Never at him.

"It's not midnight yet."

Given the circumstances, the weight of his hand on your back, how tantalizingly close he is, and the inexplicable gravity you've long since stopped denying, his growl actually elicits a laugh, pained as it is.

"Sadly even the most rebellious of us princesses still have curfews."

He groans in frustration, arms wrapping around you in a hug, his forehead dropping against your own. "Don't. I-" His eyes are meeting yours again, darkened by expanded irises and still nearly sparkling for how vibrant the red is.

"Run away with me."

It's a whisper, a plea. It echoes through your entire heart and soul, that aching a crescendo of longing and adoration.You would give anything to stay with him, would follow him in a heartbeat.

But you have a family, a job, responsibilities. You can't abandon them, even at the risk of never seeing him again.

"I'm sorry," you force out, the agony resounding from every last inch of your soul.

You never meant the words as much as you mean them now, your own heart breaking in your decision.

You step away from him, shedding his jacket and turning away.You know if you look at him, if you see his face, if you glance at his eyes once more time-

You manage five steps before he's choking out your name. You close your eyes at the pain in his voice, but it's not enough.

He's used your name, and the sound of it from his lips, the weight of it on your spirit, it's too much for you to resist.

You're turning again, once again struck by how devastatingly handsome he is right now, how much sway he already has over you.

Every one of his approaching steps, each more confident than the last, is increasing the tempo of your heartbeat, filling you to the brim with anticipation.

It's ridiculous, impossible.

Yet you can't lie to yourself. Not about this.

"Please."

He's barely an arm's distance away from you now, hair haloed and features shadowed from the nearby sconces. And those damned eyes-

"N-"

He's murmuring your name again, slowly, hypnotically, shaping it as if he's savoring the flavor, enjoying how it feels.

You really want to ignore the effect it has on you, but he's whispering it again, not giving you a moment's mercy.

"Come with me."

You're powerless to resist.

"Yes."

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destiniesfic · 4 years ago

Photo

132 Hours, Chapter 2:

“Say ‘please?’”

“Fuck off, Greenbriar.”

“Close enough.”

Read chapter 2 on AO3 or read below:

This is the shape of my nightmares:

My sister Taryn and I are thirteen years old, sick and miserable. We’ve just endured our first heats and stayed home from school for a week with doctor permission. Even now, we feel residual awfulness: headaches and sore muscles. Heats are painful when there’s no one to help you through them, and obviously we’re too young to mate. We sheltered in our rooms, and our adoptive father briefly hired an omega nurse to tend to our high temperatures and help us wrap up in blankets, so at least we felt safe and cocooned.

Everybody knows why we missed school, and they whisper about it behind our backs. Even before we presented, our designation was obvious. The rest of our class—the rest of the school—is alpha kids, and the ones in our year have all started growing out of their baby fat, shooting up like wheat stalks. Taryn and I are only barely taller than we were last year, our cheeks are still soft, and we are gaining weight in our hips and chests. Everything about this is awful. Nothing is fun.

We are outside for gym class. The alpha kids, growing into their bodies, have a lot of extra energy, so they need to spend time circling the track or tackling each other in games of capture the flag. Taryn and I will join them until we get tired, but if we show signs of flagging, we’re benched. Omegas aren’t as sturdy. Omegas break.

Today, the teacher is more generous. During our game of capture the flag, she simply mandates we play defense, guarding the precious flag, and abstain from running around with our classmates. It’s boring, but fine. We get to talk to each other while the alphas tussle among themselves upfield.

Except a few of them are “on defense” today too—the alpha elites, too lazy or too important for gym, who can slack off. As the only two omegas on school grounds who aren’t staff, Taryn and I are categorically beneath their notice, but we know every member of the clique by name: Locke, the son of a wealthy consultant who’s never home, always traveling; Nicasia, whose mom is a senator; Valerian—nobody knows what his family does so we all kind of assume it’s crime; Cardan, the youngest of six heirs to the most absurd family fortune this side of the Rockies.

Already, they are taller than us, stronger than us, looking unfairly sculpted in the autumn sun. Already I am aware of how we are different.

Then the wind blows past me, picking up my hair. And the scene changes.

The first thing I notice when Cardan unexpectedly strides toward me is that he smells amazing. He smells so incredible that I goggle at him for a second, baffled by how I somehow didn’t notice this about him before. I feel a clenching in my stomach and the urge to do something, although at the time I don’t know what. And then, while I am paralyzed by his scent, he gives me a hard shove for no reason, knocking me off-balance.

I land on my backside, an embarrassing but safe place to land, padded with muscle and fat. Our adoptive father always taught us that it’s better to land there than anywhere else, better to suffer a little humiliation than to crack your skull open or shatter your ankle or wrist. It still smarts, but at least the only thing bruised is my pride.

Then Valerian throws his head back and laughs. “That’s where she belongs,” he crows. “On her back, like a good little omega.”

Nicasia thinks that’s hilarious. Locke raises his eyebrows, blinking at us with large, tawny eyes. And Cardan, the instigator. Cardan just sneers.

That sneer has haunted me. I’ve seen it countless times since then. He starts holding his nose when he passes me in the hallway. Whenever I get complacent, he makes sure to whisper in my ear that I reek. He and his friends seem to find it more fun to bully the alphas smaller or weaker than them—omegas already know their place, after all—but that does not protect us when they’re bored, or when said alphas further down the food chain need to take out their own aggressions.

I think they thought it would break me.

They couldn’t know it would do the opposite.

---

“Jude?”

I open my eyes to a darkened room, and groan. I feel vaguely like I’ve been run over by a truck, then the truck stopped and someone picked me up and threw me in the back of it, and we proceeded to drive down a very bumpy road. In other words: like shit. My head throbs, and when I try to sit up, the world spins and I flop back over.

“What happened?” I mutter. Everything is greyish and blurry. Dim light seems to be filtering in from somewhere above my head and to the left, but there isn’t very much of it. I hold my hand up in front of my eyes and squint at it until I stop seeing double.

There’s a relieved sigh from somewhere past my hand. A male voice. “You’re okay.”

I make a second attempt at sitting up and am more successful this time. My shoulder scrapes against a wall to my right, so I lean into it. The light source I clocked before is a small window, longer than it is wide, set high up above me. And on the other side of the room, sitting across from me, sits the dark shape of a boy, or a man, or someone caught eternally in between those two things.

Cardan.

I blink at him. “You look like shit.”

“Yeah, you too.” Cardan rubs his eye. He isn’t sneering now. In fact, he looks worse than I’ve ever seen him. His hair is messy—which is nothing new, people are doubtless running their hands through it all the time with how perpetually tousled it seems—but there are circles under his eyes and he looks pale. He’s also bleary-eyed and squinting a little. He doesn’t seem to have any visible injuries, though, although jury’s out on whether that’s good or bad. I’ve often thought he could stand to get pushed around a little more, instead of always being the one to do the pushing.

“I gave you the mattress,” he says, gesturing at what I’m sitting on. “There was only one.”

I look down. I’m indeed sitting on a mattress. There’s no linens, but someone has thrown a slightly scratchy blanket over the lower half of my body. I peer around, dread sinking in as I begin to grasp the severity of our situation. “Oh, fuck.”

“I think it’s ransom,” Cardan volunteers. “I mean, I really can’t think of anything else it would be.”

I hug my arms to my chest and say the thing drilled into every omega’s brain since they’re old enough to wander off from their parents. “What about sex slavery?”

“Yeah, there’s not a huge demand for alpha men on the black market. Although…” He looks down at himself and smirks a little. He’s built like a classical sculpture and he is well aware of this fact. “Can’t blame them if they decided to make an exception.”

It’s impossible to think he’s making a joke about this, not when it’s actually a thing that could happen to me, a possibility that my stepmother Oriana warned us of ever since she married Madoc and inherited his adopted twins. Sex slavers looking to snatch up omega girls became our bogeymen.

But the odds are that Cardan’s right: it’s probably ransom. I imagine people would do and have done worse to get their hands on a fraction of the late Eldred Greenbriar’s billions.

But I say, “Maybe someone finally got tired of you being annoying as shit.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Feeling mouthy, are we?”

“Fuck off. This is your fault,” I accuse, wagging a finger at him. “You did this.”

Cardan blinks at me. “What, you think I kidnapped myself?”

“Not literally.” I slump back against the wall. “Although it seems like something you would do. You love attention.”

“Ah, yes. All of the attention I am getting from you in our cozy eight-by-ten cell. I’m just soaking it in.” He pantomimes splashing water on his face. “Great for the skin.”

“You’re in a playful mood.” But of course he’s feeling better than me. He would have needed a larger dose—of the chloroform? ether? they used on us to get us here—but he also would have bounced back quicker. Everything about alpha biology is kind of extra like that.

“I joke a lot when I’m nervous.” He sighs and runs his hands through his hair. “I am actually freaking the fuck out.”

“Oh, great.”

“I do have water, though. Thought that might interest you.”

I sit up a little straighter. “God, my head is killing me. Yes.”

“Say ‘please?’”

“Fuck off, Greenbriar.”

“Close enough.”

Instead of getting up, which I think for a moment he might, he rolls the half-empty bottle of water across the floor and over to me. It bumps against the edge of the mattress and I have to lean over to grab it, which nearly makes me hurl then and there. The water helps, though. It’s room temp, but even a mouthful makes me feel more like a person.

“It’s not drugged,” Cardan calls. “Surprised you didn’t ask in advance.”

I flip him off. After I’ve drained the last of the bottle, I let myself just breathe, counting backwards from ten in my head. There are many warring emotions vying to tip me over the edge of a panic attack, but I can’t let them. I have to get out of here.

Cardan flicks at a bit of dust on the floor. When I am on three, he interrupts my mindful breathing. “You realize that, technically, we have now swapped saliva?”

“Ew.” I throw the empty water bottle at him and am annoyed when he catches it effortlessly from the air. “Could you be, like, useful for once in your life?”

“Sure.” He leans forward and lowers his voice, like he’s afraid someone might overhear. “There are three of them. One’s a woman, I think the other two are men. The only one I’ve seen is tall and white and barely spoke a word to me. He dropped off the water when I was still groggy.”

That is useful. Dammit. I frown. “Designation?”

“Dunno. Couldn’t get a read on him. I think they might be using maskers for their scents.”

“Yeah, maybe.” I exhale. “Tall” doesn’t have to mean alpha—my sister Vivi, who’s shorter than me, is proof enough of that. But it doesn’t sound good. “Any idea where we are?”

“I don’t think we’ve left Long Island. I don’t know for sure, though. We could be in Jersey for all I know.”

“Right.” I sigh again and rub my temples. “Okay, so ransom. Ransom. You could technically pay the ransom yourself, right? You’re over eighteen—”

“I’m twenty.” When I blink at him, he clarifies, “Repeated sixth grade, remember? And I just had my birthday in July.”

How could I forget? My life wasn’t exactly blissful before he came along, but it definitely got worse when he got bumped down to my year. “Okay, you’re twenty, and your dad died last year. So you’ve got your own money now.”

Cardan raises his eyebrows. “Wow. Real considerate.”

Now is definitely not the time to quibble over manners, but I manage, “Sorry, I guess.”

“Don’t be. He was a dick.” I glare at him, but he ignores me, patting down the pockets of his skinny jeans. “Huh, you know, when they took my phone and my wallet, they must have also taken the special checkbook I keep on me just for hostage situations. Think they’d accept Venmo?”

“Very funny.”

“But the real issue here is that I can’t touch my trust until I turn twenty-one.”

I wish I could say that didn’t interest me, but it does. Sure, Madoc has money. He’s a ruthlessly efficient attorney with killer instincts, and, among other prominent clients, he’s represented Cardan’s dad and both of his older brothers at one point or another. But he’s not among the alpha ultra-rich. Private helicopter rich. Secluded island rich. And I’m nosy enough about how the point one percent of the one percent lives. Anyone would be. So I ask, “Why’s that?”

“Why did my dad do anything?” Cardan folds his hands behind his head. “To make my life difficult, I guess. It was probably to ensure I wouldn’t embarrass myself by buying and crashing seventeen Porsches in a row. Give that frontal lobe time to develop. He’s not here to say. Anyway, Balekin’s the trustee. Maybe there’s some clause about life-threatening emergencies.”

Balekin is Cardan’s oldest brother, but thinking about siblings makes me wonder, with a pang in my chest, about Taryn. What had she done when she and Locke couldn’t find me at the party? Had she panicked? Had she gotten home safe? I don’t want to think about Madoc because he’s probably freaking out in a big way, a side of him I have only seen once before, the last time someone threatened me. It’s more likely that he’ll tear the kidnappers limb from limb than give into anybody’s demands. I hope Balekin has a more level head, although given his reputation for throwing massive parties, I am not counting on it.

“Right,” I say. “So they’ll hit up Balekin for the money?”

“Dude, I don’t know. Honestly? He might have staged this himself to get at the trust, or more likely my stake in the corporation. In some ways, I think it’s better for my family if I disappear.”

It surprises me to hear him say that. “Wouldn’t—that would be a huge scandal, though?”

I don’t say what I think, which is Don’t they love you? But there’s a pretty big age gap between Cardan and his oldest siblings. They could be practically strangers for all I know.

Cardan just shrugs and looks gloomy.

“I don’t think they planned on getting me, too,” I say quietly. There’s only one mattress in the room. One bottle of water on hand for when Cardan woke up. And anyone who thinks they can extort “Mad Dog” Madoc is definitely biting off more than they can chew. But that curdles my stomach, because if Cardan hadn’t chased me down the beach, I probably would have woken up in my lavender canopied bed, safe. Probably with a killer headache from overstimulation, but safe. As safe as I can ever be.

“Yeah,” Cardan agrees, which doesn’t help me feel any better. “Wrong place, wrong time.”

I blow out a breath. “Well, Balekin better pay up in the next forty-eight hours, or we need to figure out how to get out of here. Otherwise we’re going to have problems.”

“We are?”

I swallow. I hate that I have to spell it out for him. But I keep my voice even, casual. “Unless you’ve got spare heat suppressants on you.”

Cardan looks dumbstruck. “Oh,” he says after a moment. “Shit, no. I must have left them in my other jeans with my hostage checkbook.”

I feel myself blush, which is ridiculous. Unregulated heat cycles, messy and inconvenient as they are, are nothing to be ashamed of, as everyone says. Just a quirk of biology. Just the way I am. There’s even a group of pretty radical omega activists out there fighting to destigmatize unregulated cycles, citing the damage that suppressants can wreak on the body. Except my designation is going to be pretty problematic if I’m locked in this room with Cardan for reasons other than societal stigma.

To be honest, it’s already a problem. The room is probably ten feet long, not long enough for us both to lie down across from each other without curling up to avoid touching. I am already hyper-aware of his presence, the nervous drumming of his long fingers, the terrible urge I have to run my fingers through his already messy curls. It’s just chemistry, but if it’s bad now, it’ll be about eighty times worse for both of us if I go into heat.

And if any of our captors are also alphas…

I shake myself all over. I can’t go down that road. I’ll never pull myself back. I’ll just curl up in a little ball and then it’ll be up to Cardan to save us, which, no thank you. “Yeah. So, one way or another we have to get out of here.”

Cardan goes pale. “Jude, I—”

“So we assume nobody’s coming,” I continue. “Use the next twenty-four hours to figure out as much as we can about the people who’ve taken us and where we’re being held, and the next twenty-four to escape. That’s the plan.”

“That’s a reasonable plan,” he says, vaguely startled.

“You don’t have to sound so surprised.”

“I’m not. You were valedictorian, of course you have a plan. Just, uh, my mind went totally blank when you pointed out you’d—”

“We don’t have to talk about it, okay?” I snap. “I assume you want that just as much as I do.” Which is not at all.

The way he pales further tells me I’m not far from wrong. I mean, he’s always made it clear how much he’s hated my scent, the way I look, the fact that I get better grades than him. He hates pretty much everything about me, because I am an omega and he is an alpha, and that means he should be on top of the world and I should know my place.

I massage my temples, trying to clear my head. “No, we’re going to get out of here before that happens.”

For reasons I can’t pretend to understand, that seems to reassure Cardan. He nods and unfolds his arms, letting his head fall back against the wall. His eyes close. “Okay.”

I am surprised that he seems at all willing to trust me, but I suppose he is pretty low on options. That’s his mistake. Already I am thinking of what a relief it will be to leave him behind, even though I know that, morally speaking, I should be formulating an escape plan for the both of us. Besides, abandoning Cardan to his fate wouldn’t really solve any of my problems. But I wouldn’t have to face his sneer anymore, wouldn’t have to wonder what it would take to convince him I have earned my place when the answer is clearly “Nothing, ever.”

“I just have to figure out how,” I mutter under my breath.

Cardan cracks one dark eye open to look at me, but I ignore him, staring up at the little window. There has to be a way to crack this place open like a nut, and if there is, I’ll find it. There is no other option but this, no other way but out.

I refuse to believe otherwise.

#jurdan #judecardan #jude x cardan #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #the folk of the air #tfota #the cruel prince #the wicked king #the queen of nothing #jurdan fanfic #mine: fic #fic: 132 hours

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swiss-cheeze · 4 years ago

Text

Tick-Tock, Hook’s Afraid of an Ordinary Clock! || Spencer Reid

Requested: YES/NO: gender neutral please! So my request. Y/n has been working at the BAU for a while, and never ever had feelings for Spencer but more for Derek. One night is spent at a hotel and Spencer gets wasted as all hell which the team found unusual. That’s really all! Do with that what you will! Smut is fine too! You can add your own personal touches if you wish. Also would love some fighting between Spencer and y/n

Gender: none, they/them.

Warnings: insults, alcohol, normal CM case talk, verbal fight dialogue taken from Hook (1991), crap music talk.

----

“Eat your heart out, you crinkled, wrinkled fat bag,” you mumbled under your breath as Spencer finished his rambling of some unknown subject. Spencer stiffened at your insult, as did the rest of the team. You had just gotten back from a pretty bad case involving a team of family annihilators and where sitting in the nearest bar; throughout the whole case Spencer had almost made it his mission to speak over you, correct you, flick things at you, ‘forget’ you’re there, bump into you and more. God it was so annoying, and now? Now you've had enough.

“That was very ill-mannered-” Spencer started.

“And you're a slug-eating worm,” you said with a little more force matter-of-factly, cutting off whatever it was Spencer was going to say.

“You can do better than that pretty boy!” Derek said quickly with a grin as he nudged Spencer; you almost pounced on that man for taking Spencer's side rather than yours; Derek had always taken your side.

“You're encouraging this?” Spencer questioned quickly.

“Show me your fastball, dust brain!” you started again, “you paunchy, sag-bottomed puke pot!” Spencer's eyes widened three times the size they normally would be as the rest of your table sat quiet and watched.

“Damn!” Emily said under her breath with a grin as her eyes darted between the two of you; it was like watching tennis.

“You're a very poor role model for your team, you know that right?” Spencer shook his as he took a mouthful of his drink before a sly grin overtook his face, “I bet you don't even have a fourth-grade reading level,” a few of your teammates let out a little blow of air.

“Hemorrhoidal sucknavel” you said quickly.

“Maybe a fifth-grade reading level.” Spencer said even quicker.

“Oil-dripping, beef-fart-sniffing bubble butt” you started to really get into it, leaning over the table a little with a smirk.

“Aye there we go (Y/n)!” Derek said quickly, now he was on your side? You looked to Hotch who was smiling thinking that maybe you had another on your side.

“Someone has a severe caca mouth, you know that?” Spencer cut off your gaze with his words, as if he was bored.

“You’re a fart factory. A slug-slime sack of rat guts and cat vomit, a cheesy scab picked pimple-squeezing finger bandage!” snickering came over the table; but you weren't done yet oh no, “a week-old maggot burger with everything on it and flies on the side!” you grinned; many many words in that one insult. Spencer went to open his mouth but you cut him off, “you’re really just a substitute chemistry teacher” you winked.

“Come on Spence, hit (Y/n) back!” J.J. quickly intervened.

“Mung tongue” Spencer fired.

“Math tutor,”

“Pinhead,”

“Mother lover,” that one was a low blow on your end but you couldn't help yourself.

“Nearsighted gynecologist,” ouch Spence, Hotch snorted at that one.

“In your face, camelcake!” you shot back.

“In your rear, cow derrière!” of course Spencer came back even faster.

“Lying, crying, spying, prying ultra-pig!” Emily snickered at yours.

“Lewd, crude bag of pre-chewed food!” Derek snickered at Spencers.

“Guys maybe settle down…” Hotch said softly, this was starting to get a little out of hand.

“You man! Stupid, stupid man!” That was all you could give back as your mind turned blank, forgetting every word in the dictionary.

“If I'm a maggot burger, why don't you just eat me?” Spencer shot back, “you zebra-headed, slime-coated, pimple-farming, paramecium brain, munching on your own mucus, suffering from Spencer Reid envy!” laughter ensued as your face contorted to confusion.

“What the hell is a ‘paramecium’?” your voice held the question as Spencer pointed to you.

“I'll tell you what a paramecium is! You’re a paramecium!” everyone on your table stared at Spencer as he elaborated; “It's a one-celled critter with no brain that can't think!” and with that, your table cheered for Spencer as you sat sulking.

“Oh come on (Y/n), you should have known you would lose,” Derek said with a grin before following Spencer to the bar.

“He's drinking a lot tonight isn't he?” Emily questioned.

“Who, Derek?” J.J. guessed with a furrowed brow.

“No! Spencer!” Emily quickly concluded.

“He was a little harsh on (Y/n)” Hotch cut in quickly, “I’m just glad Dave and Garcia weren’t here to witness that,” you slammed your drink on the table and sent a glare to the three left at the table.

“I'm going home, i'll see everyone on monday,” you grumbled out before stalking off, your shoes made loud thunking sounds as they hit the wood flooring, your anger getting the best of you as you passed Spencer and Derek.

“Yo (Y/n) you getting a drink too?” Derek was about to order your normal drink until you slapped both Spencer and Derek on the back of the head.

“OW! What the hell-!” Spencer's back was to you but as he turned and saw you his anger melted into elation, “come back for round 2 (Y/n)?” Spencer questioned, the poor boy tried to act cool and lean against the bar but missed entirely and almost fell onto a rather burly looking gentleman. You huffed slightly as you turned to Derek.

“Make sure the substitute chem teacher gets home safe,” and with that you threw open the bar doors and walked your way home, it was only a block and you had gotten a ride with Emily anyway.

When you finally slumped home, chucked off your shoes and threw yourself onto your mattress you couldn't help but make yourself angrier with the new insults suddenly bubbling in your head.

“Who does that piss brain even think he is,” you mumbled into the air, “paramecium my ass…” you continued your grumbling into the atmosphere as you twisted and turned on the mattress before sleep finally engulfed you.

------

The work week started up again and before you knew it yourself and the team where needed in New Orleans because of a new range of sudden murders.

“Lets review please,” Hotch mumbled.

“The bodies cross gender and racial lines” Rossi started.

“The throat is slit with something very sharp but also clean, I get a funny feeling it isnt a kitchen knife though,” you mumbled as you looked at the photos closer trying to get a good angle on a printed piece of paper.

“Butcher?” Derek questioned, you shrugged.

“Could these be blitz attacks?” you heard Spencer scoff at your suggestion.

“If this was a blitz attack there would be remorse and blunt force trauma somewhere on the head,” Spencer said looking directly at you.

“Oh, i'm so sorry Doctor i didn't know my input was unwanted, let me just keep my thoughts to myself,”

“Guys,” J.J. sighed, “Garcia is going through the victims lives that we have already, I can talk to the family and see if there are any enemies?” Hotch nodded.

“Derek, I want you to join J.J. with the families. Rossi, Emily go to the M.E. together and have a look over the bodies and tox screens. (L/n), Reid and I will go to the police station and start on a geographical and victim board,” everyone nodded in agreement to what Hotch said. Except for Spencer. He just stared at you with dangerous eyes. You rolled yours in return before putting your headphones into your phone and playing music to drown out Spencer's overbearingly loud thoughts.

“Okay my lovelies, these first three victims all had the same job at the same court; they’re all a part of a Jury audience” Garcia explained as her fingers tapped on her keyboard through the phone.

“Maybe someone just got out of prison that was wrongly convicted and wanting revenge?” you questioned.

“Maybe, it would have to be something pretty big for them to come back,” Derek said, you nodded in agreement, “baby girl can you see if there are any people that may have been convicted by a jury with our victims in it?”

“Sure can sugar, PG out” the phone clicked off.

“Did you find anything from the M.E.?” Hotch turned to Rossi and Emily as he spoke.

“The pathologist said it was a clean cut without hesitation marks or remorse,” Rossi said.

“No drugs, no blunt force trauma,” Emily shrugged as she talked, “it wasn't a blitz.”

“Maybe planned?” you butted in.

“That’s what it seems like,” Hotch said, “Reid? Have you got anything? J.J.?” Hotch questioned as he looked to the respective people.

“The victims were killed in different areas but its places they frequented; house, bar, bar” Spencer started, “they’re all over the place is all, completely different areas,”

“Yeah, and the families weren’t much help either. One of the victims' families, uh, Emil Gosten? His family said they didn't want anything to do with the investigation because he's had previous death threats and calls and stuff,” J.J. shrugged as the room went quiet.

“Reid, (L/n) I know you two dont like each other but I need two of my sharpest minds to go back to the crime scenes,” Hotch sighed, you groaned but complied as you stalked off with Reid following shortly behind.

“Everything looks the exact same as it was left,” you sighed out as you placed a blanket back down on the couch. Spencer scanned the books on the shelf before pulling one out and starting to read it; completely ignoring you.

“Reid,” nothing.

“Reid.” again, nothing.

“Spencer,” nope.

“SPENCE”

“What!” he finally turned to you and answered.

“You couldn't give me some complacency and at least answer me when i talk to you?” you asked annoyed.

“Why would i?” Spencer asked with a bored tone as he placed the book back on the shelf, except he finally talked to you, “The victim is atheist, believes in the justice system…” he sighed and shrugged, “did Hotch just put us together to fuck with us?”

“Maybe,” you flopped onto the couch with a sigh as you rest your head on the backrest. That was until something caught your eye, “Oi genius!” you called out, Spencer came to your side as you pointed to the roof; there, above your heads was a piece of paper taped to the ceiling, “you’re taller than me,” you said quickly as you got up and started moving the couch.

“Woah what- what’re you doing?” Spencer jumped back slightly as you pushed the couch backwards.

“Well we’re going to push this back and then put a chair down for you to stand on so you can reach that note because it can possibly help us get to the unsub,”

“What why me?” Spencer questioned as he helped you push the couch back.

“You’re taller than me and have longer arms,” you walked over to the dining table and came back with a chair, Spencer was reluctant at first but eventually stood on the chair and plucked down the taped note; letting out a breath as he finally stood on the ground again. You plucked the note from Spencer's hand and opened it.

“A music note?” Spencer mumbled.

“Something like that,” you mumbled back, “see it's in the second to bottom gap,” you pointed to the gap to show where it was, as if Spencer couldn't see it already, “um, it would sound something like...um, dmm” you vibrate your voice a little to help Spencer understand, he nodded, “the only problem is there isn’t any clef; normally with music you have a treble clef, alto clef or bass clef. They basically determine what instrument can be played and how the notes are determined” Spencer looked genuinely interested while you explained your thinking, “this...its a singular note, maybe there’s more around?” you looked around the room and tried to desifre if there were any opened drawers or cupboards.

“Maybe there’s another one at the other location?” Spencer questioned, you grinned.

“It might be the unsubs calling card; ‘hey, this is my kill’ type thing!” and with that, you made a break in the case.

Spencer called the rest of the team about the break as Hotch allowed the two of you to go to the other victims houses and search for more music notes; low and behold you now had 3 music notes placed under the corresponding victim heads.

“You keep staring at that board as if it's going to give you answers,” Derek said with a grin as he walked into the room; the rest of the team had been called out to another dead body.

“Hmm? Oh I just…” you shrugged, “i just get this feeling about the notes; they have to sound something but we just don't know what yet” before Derek could answer you the shrill of the phone went off.

“(Y/n)?” it was Spencer on loudspeaker; he never called you by your first name.

“Yeah what's up Reid?” you called back.

“We found another note; the round part is under the last line with the stem going up to the second line at the top,” you nodded in response (not that Spencer could see you) as you drew the note on a piece of paper with a sharpener and placed it on the victim board.

“Anything else? A clef at all anywhere?” you asked.

“Um i'm not- i don't think so?” it sounded like Spencer was shuffling around a few things to get a better look, “we have another piece of paper!” Spencer called out, moments later you got a photo on your phone. Sure enough there was a treble clef.

“Spence get everyone back here; i know what the notes mean”

“Our unsub is using something called the Dies Irae,” you played the first few notes on your phone over youtube, “you've all heard this song over time just not exactly in an orchestra setting; Star Wars, The Nightmare Before Christmas, The Corpse Bride, Sweeney Todd, The Shining, The Exorcist and many many more,” you played a few other videos of the notes from a few of the movies as everyone nodded.

“I can hear it,” J.J. mumbled.

“Same,” that was Emily.

“Right, so...it was originally used with catholic’s; they used the music in their Requiem services-”

“Requiem services are basically putting the dead to rest,” Spencer cut in quickly so the team could understand.

“Yeah, it's basically a song for the dead to stay dead in a way? I think our unsub is using the Sweeney Todd method; killing his victims with a razor. One slice across the neck while in a private area except this dude isn't a cannibal” you grinned at the remembrance of the film.

“Cannibal?” Derek and Emily questioned.

“In the movie Sweeney Todd is a barber, he comes back for revenge on the man who stole his wife and child and kills people in his barber shop which is also above a pie shop owned by a woman named Mrs Lovett; when Sweeney starts killing they come together in order to bring customers back to Mrs Lovett's pie shop. Because it's set in 1785 meat was expensive so instead they used the dead people as meat to sell to customers” you realised how long winded that explanation was and apologized, “sorry that was..i think our unsub is a barber” was your final statement. Hotch nodded and moved to press a button on the phone in the middle of the table, but the phone started ringing instead.

“Garcia?”

“I think i found our unsub; Chris Gevette, he filed for divorce after he gave evidence of spousal abuse but it seems like his wife had every piece of evidence that would be able to put him in jail rather than her so everything was blamed on him for the abuse and the jury ruled him unable to keep any stable relationship”

“Garcia do you have a work and home address?”

“Sent to your phones now; barber shop and home” the phone clicked off.

“(Y/n) i want you to go to the barber shop with Reid and Derek. Emily, J.J. and I will go to the house; Rossi stays here in case anything else happens.” and with that you all ran to the SUV’s.

-----

“CHRIS GEVETTE FBI!” Derek shouted through the door, your guns were drawn and ready for action as Derek kicked the door in. You moved swiftly through the shop, finding nothing but dust.

“Guys!” you were now out the back as your partners came running, “it's exactly like Sweeney Todd,” you motioned to the stairs in front of you before looking behind you, “there's stars that lead down as well; there may be bodies in there like the movie too, you go down there and i'll go up.”

“(Y/n) let me come with you,” that was Spencer, he looked genuinely concerned.

“I've got this Spence. Go” you started your ascent up the wooden stairs while trying to stay as quiet as you possibly could, “CHRIS GEVETTE,” you called out to the door once you got to it, you could hear the bustle of footsteps and made the split decision. The door was kicked in by you as you pointed your gun to Chris who was now holding a razor to a woman's neck.

“Get away!” Chris screamed, he was frantic; trembling and crying.

“Chris! Chris it's okay, i'm a good guy, okay?” you slowly let go of your gun, “im holstering my gun, okay?” you said as you're-holstered your gun, “Chris i know about the divorce-”

“No you dont!” Chris called, the woman under the razor trembled as the razor cut into her neck slightly.

“I do! Chris, I know you were abused! I know it wasn't you that did the abusing! If you let her go we can help you get custody and instead send that bitch to jail,” Chris looked almost relieved to hear that, he contemplated that for a moment before slowly letting the woman go. She ran over to you as Derek and Spencer finally came up the stairs and started handcuffing Chris.

“We’ve got two other bodies in the basement,” Spencer said to you while you held the trembling woman, “there's medic on the way now,” you nodded in affirmation before starting to help the women calm down and walk down the stairs.

------

The jet finally landed back at the bureau as the rest of your team started packing their things from their desks.

“Um (Y/n)” a voice called, you smiled as you looked up to see the person you least expected.

“Spence?” you questioned; your eyes darted around and couldn't see any other team member in sight, “everyone left already. Sorry. I've been in my own little world,” you gave a tight smile as you continued packing some extra files into your bag.

“It-it’s just me, but um, I just wanted to congratulate you on your break in the case,” the comment from Spencer's timid and small voice caught you off guard so much that you froze for a moment as you stared at him. It all seemed to go quiet, and slow; the clock on the wall seemed to tick at an atrociously slow pace.

Tick…

“(Y/n)?”

Tock…

“Hmm?”

“I uh, i was-”

“Oh, yeah um-”

Pause.

Quiet.

“Thank you,” smile.

Tick…

“I was...was wondering, (Y/n)...”

Tock…

“Yeah Spence?”

“Would you...would you like to go...on a date...with...me?”

Pause.

Quiet.

“With you?”

“Well, I did...I did say ‘me’ I hope- just, just forget it” and the world went back to normal as Spence started walking away.

“No Spence, wait!” you grabbed your things and quickly darted off after him; plunging your arm between the elevator doors and stepping in quickly before they shut behind you.

“Just forget it (Y/n); forget i ever asked and we can just go back to-”

“I would love to go on a date with you”

Tick…

“Really?”

“So long as you don't call me a paramecium again”

Tock…

“I won't; as long as you don't call me a substitute chemistry teacher”

Pause.

Quiet.

“I won't”

“Then it's settled.

Tick…

“Message me?”

“Of course”

Tock…

Smile.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #Derek morgan #penelopie garcia #Penelope Garcia #garcia #Emily prentiss #Aaron hotchner #David rossi #J.J.#Spencer reid x reader #Reid x reader #Spencer reid x gn!reader #Spencer reid x gender neutral reader #x reader

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makeste · 5 years ago

Text

BnHA Chapter 262: A Fierce Bad Rabbit

Previously on BnHA: The hospital raid squad, which had two jobs consisting of (1) not letting Ujiko get away, and (2) not letting any of the Noumu break free to go ravage the countryside, impressively failed at both of these tasks (or so I assume) in a remarkably short amount of time. The EndeavorZawaMicLock squad were all occupied with having a very destructive fight in the hospital lobby, leaving my girl Miruko, Goddess of Courage and First of Her Name, to do pretty much all the heavy lifting, which, fine!! Except that Ujiko remembered that he had a bunch of High End Noumus just floating there waiting to be activated, and he was all “!!” and fucking activated them, and like five of them went after Miruko all at once and smashed her into a bunch of machinery and glass tubes, which frankly should have killed her but it didn’t because she’s a fucking boss. But now it’s just her (and Crust, who might do something too, but for now JURY’S STILL OUT) against all these guys while Ujiko speeds off to grab Tomura and abscond. So basically everything that could go wrong has already gone wrong so UH. OKAY.

Today on BnHA: Miruko kicks ass. Then she checks her watch and sees that there’s still time for her to kick more ass, so she does. Then there is still time, because this chapter is all about her kicking ass! So she kicks even more ass!! It’s great!! I have no complaints!! She decapitates a man with her thighs!! That’s a thing that really happens!! Also she loses an arm but WHO HASN’T LOST AND/OR BROKEN THEIR ARMS IN THIS SERIES, REALLY. Everyone is doing it. Somehow she manages to make it look cool because Miruko. Miruko can strangle a man with a cordless phone. She can kill two stones with one bird. Miruko makes onions cry. Death once had a near-Miruko experience. Mirukoooooooo. Anyway the chapter ends with Skeptic warning everyone at The Ol’ Villain Hotel that the heroes are coming, so basically WELCOME BACK, EVERYONE, this manga is back with a vengeance.

guys I’m gonna try to do this recap fast because I’m seeing Heroes Rising tonight at 7:30! and I’m so excited! and for those that asked, yes I do plan on doing some kind of write-up about it, though it’ll all be from memory after the fact so we’ll see how that goes. but !! I’ve waited 84 years for this ahhhhh but anyway so in the meantime let’s see what new and creative ways our heroes are finding to screw this up even more

(ETA: I did it but this thing isn’t edited for shit lol. after I get back I’ll give it a more thorough readthrough so sorry if I missed any really obvious errors! also there are probably way more exclamation points than usual which may or may not be a plus or minus.)

look at this helpful announcement

High End Noumu approaching, everyone. you have been warned. just in case you somehow failed to notice?? IT’S RIGHT THERE Y’ALL LOOK OUT

lmao FINALLY

MORE HEROES. YOU ALL CERTAINLY TOOK YOUR FUCKING TIME, but hey welcome to the party. and none of that “I don’t see how that’s a party” sassy shit either. you all know what I’m talking about so get out there and have fun

so they’re standing there all “it’s a talking Noumu!” and YEAH. that’s what I’ve been fucking trying to tell you. thank god someone finally fucking said it out loud so that hopefully the EZML squad can finally take notice of this as well. like guys. bigger fish?! get to frying!!

so now Crust is all “there are more of them ahead, Miruko’s in danger!” which, again, thanks for finally letting everyone else in on this formerly exclusive scoop there pal. ‘preciate it

I... really do not understand Crust’s quirk at all. I’m just gonna own up to it

what is this. what does “zuga” mean fx-wise. why did those scale things on his arms get so big. what are they made of. what’s happening

oh it turns out that if you scroll and read more instead of pausing for ages to ask dumb questions, the thing you were asking about might actually be explained in great detail in the very next panel

but what are they made out of though. and why “Crust”?? ah well I suppose that’s a question for someone who actually cares more than I do

by the way the quality of this scan is actually really good so far, I gotta say. we’re only two pages in, true, but they either cleaned this up really nicely, or this was a much higher-quality scan than usual. either way I am appreciative!

lol this poor Noumu is shook

what did I name you two weeks ago, again? Rusty?? anyways he’s doing his best you guys. gambare my dude, though actually you do need to die, so that’s too bad though

Crust is all “you pitiful living corpse!” with tears in his eyes because he’s dramatic! but jokes aside I do appreciate that he has compassion for these monsters who are all still basically innocent victims at the end of the day

does anyone else actually hear that funny-sounding anime narrator guy in your head nowadays when you read panels like this lol

I can hear the voice so clearly and it’s great

only ten times the strength of a normal human, guys. that’s actually not that bad. I’m only half joking lol. because obviously your average hero is going to be much stronger than a so-called “normal” person too, yes? and I’m pretty sure Miruko has the strength of like 30 humans but I may be overestimating her just slightly but am I though

oh lol I apparently did not learn my lesson about doing commentary before I’m done reading hahaha

so High Ends are on a different tier of their own above even the “high” tier. well that’s just. yeah that sounds more like the “we’re still fucked” update that I was expecting

oh wait, seriously??

are you telling me that all of the High Ends were actually cultivated from villains? so maybe not completely innocent, then? is this Horikoshi’s way of trying to make us feel marginally better about the fact that the heroes are shortly henceforth going to have to exterminate these guys with great prejudice? I mean they’re still basically slaves to Ujiko’s programming now though so that sucks

also I missed this earlier but the narration here basically just confirmed that Noumu are all made from corpses. which I kind of suspected, but the still-very-much-alive Tomura would then be a glaring contradiction to that, no? or is that why he’s so special. anyway I do appreciate that we’re getting a lot of much-awaited answers in this Noumu arc, but some of this is also just raising more questions. gotta be patient I guess

speaking of Tomura, Ujiko’s back in the Tomura room, so. I assume some absconding is soon to occur

oh shit!! so there’s another panel explaining that “artificial transplant of quirks” requires surgery and then three months of stabilization time following that. sooooo I’m pretty sure this mofo just confirmed that he gave Tomura some shiny additional new quirks, so that’s nice! that’s real fucking great! I know we were all eyeing Tomura skeptically and thinking to ourselves “this is almost just right, but needs more death”

wait, what?

“I was already dead anyway” meaning that he knows there’s no way out for him? and so he doesn’t have a secret way out of the lab?? ??? can that really be true?? our intrepid heroes actually did their job right and the villains had no contingency plan?? oh my god I am so terrified of letting my guard down lmao I still refuse to believe this at all

and is that Tomura who’s at 70% stabilization? that would seem to fit with the timeline we were given. holy shit is he unboxing him early fsdfkjalsdk are we about to go from “fucked” to “exorbitantly fucked”

and why am I strangely excited about it sob!!

HAHAHAHA OH GOD

so this is how liberty dies. with a beep

also fuck you all, now it’s at 71%?! couldn’t leave it at a nice even number for us, could you? you just had to throw that extra percent in there at the last moment to fuck with us all

anyway did you all catch how fucking ripped he was there though? like boiiii whaaaaat. clearly his abs are already at 100%

OH MY GOD

DOES NOTHING FUCKING FAZE THIS BEAUTIFUL, RULE-BREAKING MOTH

HAHAHA

RIGHT??

HOLY FUCKING MOLY

friendly reminder that Dabi was all good and ready to throw down with both Endeavor and Hawks (who were admittedly weakened by that point) that one time a while back, but then Miruko showed up and he was all “lol nope I think the fuck not” and warped out of there. Dabi, whose quirk is so powerful that its only apparent downside is the fact that it roasts him alive as well. that Dabi took one look at Miruko and decided he likes having his spine intact and fucking vamoosed, because that is the smart fucking thing to do when this girl shows up smiling at you the way that she is smiling at these Noumu now

anyway. fucking Ujiko knew he needed at least five High Ends to even stand a chance of slowing her down, is all I’m saying. y’all better respect the FUCK out of Miruko, everyone. it’s the law

anyway. so. quirk: bunny. can smash rl gud

someone needs to ask Horikoshi the fuck kind of rabbits he has been hanging out with. applied that “and more!” part pretty fucking liberally huh. WHO DID YOU SAY TRIX WERE FOR AGAIN, CHILDREN??

NOBODY THROWS MIRUKO IN THE BRIAR PATCH AND GETS AWAY WITH IT

fffwhatttttttttt

that would be our good buddy Max Rebo. so that’s definitely not an elephant trunk-like thing then. we may need a new name for you

on a side note, I never thought we’d meet another character who looks more like Katsuki than Mitsuki does, and yet every damn week Miruko is proving me wrong. goddamn she is great

lmao wait maybe that wasn’t Max at all, but Jester. because this is clearly Max over here

so Girl!Noumu is a water bender, Jester can do... something weird with his hair, and Max can do anything an elephant can do if that elephant was also powered by steam. nice

HAHAHA BUT MIRUKO IS ALL “KICK!!!”

HOLY FUCK HOLY FUCK!!!

HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT. I WOULD READ AN ENTIRE MANGA OF JUST THIS LMAO THIS IS TOO MUCH ADRENALINE I CAN’T

JESTER’S WEIRD SPIKY ROCK HAIR IS SLICING HER ARM AND SHE’S ALL “THAT HURTS YOU JERK!!!!” AND GETTING READY TO FREAKING PILEDRIVE HIM I CAN’T, THOUGH!?

SDKFJLDKSJFLKJ

HER FATHER PEPPY TAUGHT HER THAT. BARREL ROLL ALL OVER THESE BITCHES!!

WHAT THE FUCK

FUCKING QUIRKS!!!! THOUGH!!!! WILLLLLLLLLD

SDKFJLAS;DHK OH MY GOD OH SHIT

real talk this is the scariest fucking quirk I’ve ever seen I was like what the fuck looking at her arm and then I saw him doing the twisty hand gesture and just. fuck. YOU’RE NOT CRIMSON RIOT AT ALL YOU’RE SOME PSYCHO TELEKINETIC BITCH AND I FUCKING HATE YOU!!

NO!!!!!

fuck fuck fuck. I’M SURE HER ARM’S GOING TO BE JUST FINE AND DANDY AFTER THIS GUYS, DON’T WORRY. THIS MANGA HAS SUCH A SERENE AND TRANQUIL HISTORY WITH ARMS. ISN’T THAT RIGHT DEKU

though on the plus side, if she does lose that arm we can count on her to somehow instantly become like 50x more attractive, which I’m pretty sure might cause the very fabric of the universe to unravel but it would be worth it

(ETA: SHE DID AND IT WAS!!)

MADAME PRESIDENT!! MY QUEEN

OH HELL YERRRRRR

fucking hell guys I’m running out of exclamation points and excited things to say here. AND SHE JUST KEEPS GOING! LIKE HER MOM THE ENERGIZER BUNNY BEFORE HER

I’M SORRY UJIKO DID YOU THINK FIVE HIGH ENDS WAS ENOUGH?! MAYBE NEXT TIME WE MAKE IT TEN, HOW ABOUT THAT. FUCK OFF

lmao holy shit I can’t stop laughingggg

well Crimson, at least you get to die happy. is she literally going to crush his face between her thighs. is this entire chapter just one big prank on me. if Miruko was the protagonist would this series have ended in the first chapter. trick question, the answer is it never would have started to begin with because she would have killed All for One years ago!! how much would it cost to hire Miruko to come kick away all of my problems for me

hello good afternoon everyone this is a real panel that really happened in this manga

I don’t even know what to say about anything anymore

sob she’s all “YEAH RIGHT” and SNAPPING HIS FUCKING NECK WITH A FUCKING TRIANGLE CHOKE, THIS IS REALLY HAPPENING, FUCKING LOOK!! AT!! THIS!!!

we’re not even gonna make it to 300 chapters. Horikoshi held off for as long as he could, but eventually Miruko couldn’t be contained any longer and he had to unleash her and she instantly went and reckt every last fucking bad guy out there until there was nothing left. who are the kids even going to fight. nobody that’s who. go back to school kids

SON OF A BITCH WHAT IS HAPPENING

THIS IS THE MOST VIOLENT THING I HAVE EVER FUCKING SEEN AND YET SOMEHOW I SWEAR I CAN HEAR ANGELS SINGING. RESPLENDENT

SOBBING!!!!

“S’POSE I SHOULD GET THIS ANNOYING THING CHECKED OUT BEFORE I BLEED TO DEATH OR SOME BULLSHIT.” WHAT AN INCONVENIENCE. JUST A FUCKING FLESH WOUND. NOBODY USES ARMS THESE DAYS ANYWAY

“IF THE ONLY WAY TO STOP YOU IS BY CRUSHING YOUR HEADS THIS WILL BE WAY EASIER THAN HOLDING BACK ON A NORMAL VILLAIN.” SOB THIS IS MIRUKO’S WORLD AND WE’RE ALL JUST BEGRUDGINGLY ALLOWED TO EXIST IN IT. MY BARONESS

DID YOU JUST TOURNIQUET YOUR DISMEMBERED FUCKING LIMB WITH YOUR OWN FUCKING HAIR ONE-HANDED FFCKCK KCKCLK JUST MIRUKO THINGS

Miruko also saw Horikoshi getting ready to end the chapter after 17 pages and was like “EXCUSE YOU THERE” and he backed off because he actually likes having a fucking head thank you very much

LMAO AND NOW OF ALL TIMES WE’RE CUTTING BACK TO THE OL’ VILLAIN RESORT. SIGH

Skeptic seems to have finally cottoned on to them being in some kind of trouble. huh

how does he know it was Jin who screwed up?? did he realize that Hawks betrayed them oh shit!?!

OOP HE’S SOUNDING THE ALARM

AND THE CHAPTER IS ENDING. BUT I’M NOT DONE SCREAMING. AHHHHHH well anyways I’m off to watch my children kick lots of ass on the big screen. assuming I can get this posted in time with zero editing whatsoever lol I’ve got like... an hour. WE SHALL SEE!

(ETA: we did it lol just barely! this whole thing is probably a giant mess but oh well! Mirukoooooo)

#bnha 262 #miruko #mirko #ujiko daruma #I already forgot his new official name ah well #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste spoiler recap #makeste reads bnha #no time for tags!!#movie!!!!

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torivikachu · 4 years ago

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I was just listening to Hamilton AGAIN - yeah I just put it on while working all the time - and it just hit me how really relatable Hamilton (or I mean, Lin-Manuel's interpretation of him) is. well, at least for me.

if you're wondering if this is worth your time it is NOT

anybody except me likes lists? I like lists. so let's make a list!

also let's see how many quotes can I fit into this post

whoa, I am excited about it.

1. the moment he meets Aaron Burr, he just sorta searches for something to bond over. like, hey dude I heard you went to Princeton? I wanna go there too, let's bond over it! by the way, I punched someone there lol I swear I am not stupid aand Burr, like um, no, thanks really, I better go, you seem violent, my parents wanted me to go there, okay, and Ham like WHOA YOU AN ORPHAN? WOW I AM TOO IT'S LIKE FATE OR SOMETHING LETS BOND and Aaron like wtf dude just shut up

and honestly that's just me, if I meet a person I like I will latch onto anything and I get sorta...fixated? so yeah, this dialogue is relatable as fuck

2. and Alex doesn't shut up, but then he goes all or am I talking too much?

bro, your anxiety shows.

3. and he keeps ranting all through the show, but his rants seem to charm everybody while I think mine just annoy and scare away? whatever, moving on, with Washington asking him why are you upset and he's replying IM NOT like a fucking teenager and it's probably a small thing but it's relatable as hell

4. and then once he is given permission he dives and buries himself into work, never does things halfway and is eager to take on more responsibilities and do something new and is just generally non-stop and while I can only wish for same energy as he, I like to have a lot of work aswell (well I sure as hell whine about it a lot but Hamilton does too! what's with I havent slept in a week I was weak I was awake you've never seen a bastard orphan more in need of a break)

5. he's flirty and has no qualms with innuendos. and very forward with his feelings? like you strike me like a woman who has never been satisfied sounds like a pickup line that either gonna win him a lot more than a number or fail miserably. he's like going all out, wearing his heart on his sleeve, and if it takes fighting a war for us too meet it will have been worth it and like seriously? yeah, flirt with every person in the room without skipping a beat, why not? he literally said on one intake of breath mr lafayette hard rock like lancelott i think your pants look hot laurens i like you a lot. he compliments people, he just throws it out instantly, most times he meets someone for the first time he compliments them and it's kind of my strategy too? it's not even a strategy, I just blurt out everything I like about a person once I meet them. it's like embarassing, because I liked a piece of jewelery on my co-worker once, and she was talking about something important while I could barely keep up because I kept thinking wow it looks great I gotta let her know. this strange need of mine to voice all thoughts annoys even me sometimes,

6. and then again, when he is angry or doesn't like something, it's painfully obvious. I don't tend to sprout profanities to people I don't like or saying stuff like madison you mad as hatter son take your medicine or you must be out of your GODDAMN mind or you absolutely right John should have shot him in mouth that would've shut him up but I can't school my face so it is always transparent what I am thinking about so my dislike is noted and not appreciated. it got me into enough embarassing situations. actually when studied in lyceum (like a sort of highschool) we had a principal and she addressed us as children and told us to call her mom and every time I was like WHAT THE HELL. I remember her eyes landing on me one time she said that and she almost did a doubletake at my facial expression. so the I'M NOT YOUR SON sentiment is not lost on me.

7. he speaks his mind when he thinks advice is in order? um if you love this woman go get her or for once in your life take a stand with pride. I tend to do it too, because I get winded up pretty fast, and I don't think it's always wise, because it's easy to judge from outside. I am pretty much sure that is the reason one of my friends back from school stopped talking to me. she had a bit of situation with her boyfriend and I still think her boyfriend is a piece of shit and she shouldn't have accepted him back, but whatever. wasn't my place to give advice, apparently

8. he gets overexcited? gentlemen of the jury I am curious bear with me are you aware that we are making history? like really I can't imagine ever getting like that at court. well I can imagine, because I get overexcited too, but saying that out loud? i'd be mortified

9. he's never satisfied? I know I already sorta covered it already, but it's more about him eager to learn and do more and feeling that what he's done and learnt is not enough, never enough. I so feel him on this, it's like yeah sure I know 4 languages, but that can't be enough can it? yeah I've got one degree but that's just ONE DEGREE that's like minimum I gotta get more

10. I know I talk too much I'm abrasive and I am not quoting Hamilton I am talking about myself thank you very much

11. he's a whiny bitch: but they don't have a plan they just hate mine -oh yes- or whatever it is Jefferson started it -huh yes sure-

12. forgetting your sons birthday? I forget my own age, sis. these little details just escape my attention. I like forgot it was my boyfriend's birthday this year - we literally live in the same flat. it took me a couple hours and a reminder from facebook. literally. and then I'll try to get away - hahaha it's like me saying to my parents - oh sure I'll some visit in a couple of months (they live in another part of the country) and then in a half a year being like oh wow when was the last time I went home

13. oh, here comes some more heavy stuff - say no to this. I was in a couple situations where I lost this battle. I think I have some polyamorous tendencies? but I am also very posessive and jealous, yeah, not a great mix, I know. so, I might have sorta dated two girls at one time once. well, not really dated, we were just bi-curious with one? we were friends, just... um, trying things. and then at some point I met another girl and it escalated pretty quickly and we sorta got together (oh my god the whole situation was a mess I was so confused about my sexuality back then and so ashamed you have no idea) and I didn't break it off with the first girl, but it was okay since we weren't... a thing? they knew each other but had no idea I slept with both of them. well we haven't really gotten that far with the first one but. and then the other asked at some point if she's the only one I do this with and I lied and a month into this endeavor I realized it was too much and sorta stopped seeing the first girl. we also stopped being close friends pretty soon afterwards. all my "lovestories" are embarassing actually, but this one is also the one I am most ashamed of. and then there were many situations in life when I was attracted to multiple people at the same time and ugh, I don't know, I kind of hate it, honestly. cheating is not okay. it is okay if everybody is okay with the polyamorous relationship though, but I never got to do it. so, yeah Ham's a dick but so am I

and on that depressing note I wanna wrap it up because I sorta killed the mood with that story. i think that's called oversharing?

if you actually read it to this point - wtf, you have nothing better to do or what?

I am not even gonna tag it so people don't have to scroll over that shit while searching for good content really I just like writing

the whole time I've been writing this my cat just kept staring at me. unblinkingly. I can feel her JUDGING ME

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itsafuckingstick · 4 years ago

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Final 3 - Public Vote

House: Brilliant Boulevarde Tent

Me: nu52

Who to vote to evict: Anyone that is NOT me

When: 12:00-19:00 California Time 10/24

Update on my #BBGame

I made final 3, vote for me! 🎶

My name in game is nu52 and I’m in Brilliant Boulevarde Tent. It’s Day 8 and I made it there with both of my final 2′s (both of which don’t like one another). I ended up holding HOH twice and Veto twice, along with winning my Eviction Competition.

Last I left you off was after the first vote where the person I voted against survived the vote. They had a three person alliance setup and I was enemy number 1.

I got to work and one of my final 2′s was born when we promised to look out for one another throughout the game. Another of my final 2′s was born when I proposed to him, that we gift each other “Do-Over” powers in case we ever need them (important).

The final 2 I had with Adam (promise to look out for one another) ended up working out because he won HOH! He nominated house target and briber Josh as well as Josh’s number 1, Remi. It was looking good... Until Grodner decided she needed to protect her fav Josh! The game glitched and forced Adam to nominate again, except now it wouldn’t allow him to nominate the ones he had nominated previously. This was bad. He ended up nominating Koop (the only other girl I was semi-working with by not targeting her directly, but also working against since she was in an alliance with Josh and Remi) and Landon (my other eventual final 2).

At this point, I wasn’t sure who I was going to target. The only other girl who is also queer like me or the guy that just exchanged a Do-Over with me and ended up gifting me a Safety Power as well when I didn’t ask for one? I had them both in my back pocket, but I was most likely going to save Koop. Landon ended up using the Do-Over power and won Veto, pulling himself off of the block. Remi was the replacement nominee. It was perfect. I was going to have Koop and Landon both remain in the game! Unfortunately people got too comfortable and didn’t vote which led to Koop being evicted with 2 votes. Josh ended up picking Remi over Koop. This day cemented my two final 2′s as Adam nominated all of the house pretty much, but kept me safe the entire time, and Landon was gifting me Safety powers.

I was done with constantly being on the wrong side of the vote. Koop was with the other two guys I was targeting, but I was trying to build something with her. I had to do something to change the way the game was going. I went hard in the HOH comp and won! With Landon and Adam now working with me (but not with each other since Adam had nominated Landon they had it out for each other). I didn’t want to end up like Koop in an alliance of three where the two guys were closer to each other. Luckily, I was in an alliance of 2, twice, where my partners in crime would always side with me. I nominated Josh and Remi. It was time for Josh to go! Remi was not my target, but suddenly he decided to pipe up and make up lies about me. He started saying I was in a final 2 with him (even though I voted against him the previous round and had just nominated him and had never even exchanged a single DM with him). He was doing a lot and people were now being sus of me. I needed focus to remain on Josh, the brains of that crew. I was also weary of TheGuy (HOH from week 1 - read my post about that HERE). TheGuy had made me a Have-Not during week 1 and had voted out Koop instead of Remi week 2. I approached him and lamented that he, Koop, and I weren’t able to come together to form an LGBTQ+ alliance. He agreed and we buried the hatchet.

Well, Veto came along and it was the first time this new comp was being played about getting dunked in a water tank or something. I ended up getting 1 point and still won. The other two must have scored 0. My week was going as planned. I let it be known that Josh was my target and Josh went home by a unanimous vote. Things were looking good. I only needed Remi gone and the other three would have my back over anyone else’s. Little did I know, Grodner was not done protecting her favs.

The game made sure that no one could login to play the HOH. I wasn’t stressing though, because as outgoing HOH, I didn’t even get to play. Somehow, Grodner decided I would be HOH again and didn’t let me know and wouldn’t allow me to log in. This cause the twist to activate. When an HOH fails to nominate two people they are automatically nominated themselves! How could I be HOH as the current outgoing HOH? How could I be nominated on my own HOH? Why wasn’t it letting me login? I was sure I was done for. I was nominated next to TheGuy as it also picked the nominee next to me at random and the replacement would also be random. Remi could potentially escape this week with either me or one of my allies going. I flopped at the Veto. I still had one Do-Over power from when Landon and I exchanged gifts. I activated it and I ended up winning some alcohol memory Veto by getting only two questions right. Of course I pulled myself off of the block. Remi was my replacement. My last obstacle to the finish line. I just needed everyone to agree to taking him out. Remi and I patched up our differences before his eviction. Everyone was nice and this is just a game. Now, with another unanimous vote going my way after the disastrous blindsides, things were looking up. Until Grodner stepped in again.

I was outgoing HOH again, though I shouldn’t have been. I was unable to play in the HOH. I was nervous, but no matter who won I would be safe. Production had other plans for me. See, this “week” was different. This week didn’t have a Veto competition. It would all come down to an Eviction Competition! I wasn’t worried as one of the guys would be going home. I set myself up perfectly to get to final 3. Unfortunately, TheGuy won and the game would not allow him to log on to make his nominations. He ended up getting nominated and I was chosen by Grodner “at random” to be the second nominee. I couldn’t rely on my allies to vote out TheGuy. I had to win the Eviction Competition. I got off of work and got to work trying to login. Of course, the game wouldn’t let me. I was freaking out. I had 3 minutes left to login and play or else I would be evicted as TheGuy only needed 1 point in the comp to win. I was finally able to sign in after 20 minutes of trying and I got 2 points. No Do-Overs or safeties of any sort were able to be played. Had I won? Would I be getting evicted? The GameChen made the announcement. The winner of the Eviction Competition was... ME! TheGuy was evicted and I was making final 3 with Landon and Adam.

Now, I had no idea what that entailed. Would we have to do a three-part HOH? Would there be a jury because I doubted anyone would come back to vote. Turns out, it’s a popularity contest. People I have never interacted with, who don’t know everything that went down or all of the alliances and DMs and chore farming I did are now going to vote for me to either win or lose my house. I would highly appreciate it if you would evict someone else that is NOT me (nu52). I have played hard and had to overcome Grodner constantly targeting me for not being a straight white man with noodle hair. My house vote is from 12:00-19:00 California time. Tumblr is pretty much the only chance I have at getting votes. If you all want to rally your votes I would appreciate you all.

Also, at some point, I also got a secret mission where I had to be the most talkative, but Remi was going off on me and was talking the most, so I almost flopped, but I ended up completing the task.

House: Brilliant Boulevarde Tent

Me: nu52

Who to vote to evict: Anyone that is NOT me

When: 12:00-19:00 California Time 10/24

#bb22 #bbgame

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duhragonball · 4 years ago

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Potpourri

I’ve been thinking about various storytelling things, not really Dragon Ball related, but I figured I could write them all down here and make something out of it. Yeah, like an old school Livejournal post, except I can’t write a sassy message in the read-more cut.

Okay, first, I’ve been watching a lot of AEW Dark episodes on YouTube, because AEW puts out a new one every Tuesday and it’s easy to fall behind on them. So it’s like reliving wrestling angles that I watched on AEW Dynamite back in June and July. One of these angles was a world title match between champion Jon Moxley, and “The Machine” Brian Cage, who debuted by winning a ladder match in dramatic fashion, along with his new manager, Taz.

Taz does a lot of the color commentary for these episodes of Dark, and Cage debuted around the release of Episode 35, so after that, Taz started using his announcing job to promote the upcoming title match and gloat about how his guy Cage was going to destroy Jon Moxley and win the title. Taz’s main argument was that Cage is absolutely jacked, which made him a success before, but now he’s got Taz coaching him in all the cool stuff Taz used to do in ECW: suplexes, submission holds, etc. Taz sells you Brian Cage’s world title victory like a lawyer presenting a case to a jury. At the center of Taz’s argument was his claim that Cage was simply too big, too strong, and too prepared for Jon Moxley’s finishing move, the Paradigm Shift. Taz predicted that Mox wouldn’t be able to apply the Paradigm Shift properly, and even if he could hit it, it wouldn’t be enough to stop Cage.

The plot twist came from real life, when Moxley had to stay home because his wife contracted COVID-19. There was a lot of speculation that he might get sick, and even if he didn’t, that he wouldn’t be able to appear for the title match. Fortunately, it didn’t come to that, and the match was simply postponed an extra week. During that time, Taz accused Moxley of ducking Brian Cage, which I wasn’t crazy about, since I didn’t like coronavirus being used in a wrestling angle. On the other hand, it did give Taz a couple of weeks to run down the champion unopposed. At one point he reintroduced his old FTW title belt and gave it to Cage because the world title match had been postponed. Good stuff.

So finally, Moxley comes back, and he did one promo before the title match, and this was his chance to respond to all the shittalking Taz had been doing. It was brilliant, because for weeks, Taz had been declaring victory, and he shut it all down in one quick segment. He brought up Taz’s claim that the Paradigm Shift wouldn’t work on Cage, and Moxley just said “well maybe I won’t try to use my finisher on him. No, instead, I’m going to target his left bicep, which was surgically repaired last year, putting Cage out of action for several months.”

And just like that, the tone of the show changed, where suddenly it looked like Cage might be in trouble, because his camp only seemed to have a perfect game plan, and here was the champion announcing his own counter-strategy in advance. “You talked shit about my wife being sick, so I will reinjure your arm.”

And it was awesome. At one point Moxley went for a pin, and Cage kicked out, only for Moxley to reverse the pin into a submission move on the arm. There were points where it seemed like he couldn’t decide which arm to target, and eventually I realized he was going after both of them, switching from one to the other as needed. It’s smart, because if you go after the good arm, he’s gotta use the vulnerable one to fight you off, and by doing that Cage basically handed it to Mox for his next hold.

Finally, Moxley had Cage trapped in an arm hold, and the whole time he was looking Taz in the eye, basically waiting for a submission or a ref stoppage, and Taz had no choice but to throw in the towel to save Brian Cage’s career. It was a beautiful finish because it sewed up the whole story. Cage never tapped out, so he still looks like a relentless badass, but Taz had to let discretion be the better part of valor. He mocked Moxley for playing it safe when his wife got sick, so Moxley forced Taz to make the same choice. Great stuff.

Second. I’ve been reading Darth Vader comics since Marvel started publishing new Star Wars stuff again. Disney bought Marvel and Star Wars, so it was only a matter of time before the comics began to reflect this. The smart thing they did was to give Vader his own title, which I like because I’m not that into the adventures of Luke and Han.

The first Vader series was twenty-odd issues featuring his fall from grace after the Death Star’s destruction, and his rise to command of the Imperial Fleet. Basically it charts Vader’s career between Episodes IV and V, though there’s plenty of room for other side-stories.

The second series flashed back to the final scenes of Revenge of the Sith, and tracks Vader’s actions before A New Hope. It doesn’t cover the entire period, but it hits a lot of the important notes. How he got his red lightsaber, how he trained the Inquisitors and hunted down the surviving Jedi, and how he built the castle on Mustafar seen in Rogue One. So it handles everything important Vader was known to have done between Episodes III and IV.

The third series, currently ongoing, starts right after Vader’s final scene in Empire Strikes Back, and I would assume it’s going to lead him right up to his arrival at Death Star II in Return of the Jedi. I’m really into this, because I feel like this is an especially overlooked stage of Vader’s career. Starting out, it seems to be mostly about Vader investigating how his son survived Padme’s death, as he seeks revenge against anyone who hid the boy from him. Of course, nearly everyone involved in that cover-up is already dead, so I’m not sure where this is going to lead.

All three volumes of the Vader title focus on the utter futility of Vader’s quests for power and revenge. His hunts for Jedi survivors was just something for him to do in his spare time, since the Jedi were no longer a threat to him. His castle on Mustafar was designed to give him special knowledge of the Force, but it only revealed truths that he already knew, or had long since rejected. His plot to regain the Emperor’s favor after Yavin was very satisfying to watch, but also pointless: The Emperor needed him too badly to dispose of him, and Vader’s still a patsy whether he’s the #2 guy in the Empire or the #5 guy in the Empire. And now this new series sees him chasing ghosts, trying to make sense of Luke’s refusal to join him. He wants some sort of answer to his dilemma, but the only answer he’s ever going to find is the one in ROTJ, where he sacrifices himself to kill the Emperor, the one thing he cannot bring himself to contemplate until the time comes.

What saddens me, a little, is the realization that there doesn’t seem to be anywhere else for Marvel to go with the guy. We’ve got an arc of Vader between Episodes III and IV, an arc between IV and V, and now V and VI, and that’s it. The only way to do another Darth Vader series after this would be to go back and cover one of those three periods of his career. And I’d be up for that, but the three series Marvel has done seem a little too decisive for this. Like they purposely planned these comics because they weren’t going to revisit the character again for a while. At least, not as the star of his own feature.

I guess I could deal with that. Maybe Marvel could finally get around to exploring the Sith career of Count Dooku between Episodes I and II, or work out some loose ends with the Emperor between Episodes VI and IX. The main thing that’s been on my mind about Vader, though, is this idea that the character could just be done, and laid aside.

This is something I’ve often observed about Cell and Frieza in DBZ. I still think it’s dumb how they brought back Frieza after Trunks killed him, because there really wasn’t anything left to do with the character after he got turned into a cyborg and instakilled. There’s nowhere to go after that. His character arc was to start as the Final Boss of the entire Universe and then to get reduced to a pathetic, minor threat. You can bring him back, but your only choice, dramatically speaking, is to reset the character, which means putting him back on the same track he’s already covered. There’s no way to bring back Frieza and not have it be a retread of stuff he’s already done once before.

Cell might have some interesting applications beyond his original story, but he’s too much of a slave to his purpose. His job was to carry on Dr. Gero’s revenge scheme, and that all ended when the saga ended, so he just seems out of place whenever he appears after that. This is why I’m glad Toei and Toriyama haven’t brought Cell back, although at this rate it feels like it’s only a matter of time. The thing is, if they brought him back, what else could they do with him?

With Darth Vader, all of his most important moments have already been covered in the movies, so all that’s left is to produce some side-story content. The old Expanded Universe tended to steer clear of Darth Vader, probably out of respect for George Lucas’ prequel plans. Later, the Clone Wars projects gave us more Anakin Skywalker than anyone knew what to do with, which is basically Darth Vader content, but not quite. That’s why I dig these Marvel books so much, because there’s never been such a sustained effort to tell a Darth Vader story like this. But once it’s run its course, the only way to keep using the character would basically be to start over. I have a hard time seeing Marvel do that. They’d have to get a new writer to retell those years like the first set of comics didn’t happen. That could be very entertaining, but it doesn’t sound likely to happen.

I’m not terribly worried about getting my Darth Vader fix in the future. They’ll keep making stories about him long after I’m dead. It’s just that I’ve been thinking about the limits of what you can do with one character. I’ve long thought that you can always find gaps in the narrative that can be filled in with new stories, but maybe that isn’t true. Maybe at some point, for some characters, there’s a finite amount of things to do with them. You look at all of the Anakin Skywalker Clone Wars stories, and I’m sure someone could write a few hundred more, but would it really accomplish anything that hasn’t already been covered? Is it possible to “use up” a character? I probably won’t know for sure anytime soon.

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musical-in-theory · 5 years ago

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Just Relax and Let Go

“Come on, hero! You promised!” the magician whined.

“I really don’t know about this, man. You said it was safe but…” Jackie rubbed the back of his neck, hoping to get rid of the looming dread that always seemed to follow him whenever hypnosis was on the table.

Marvin walked over and pulled on his arm, “It’s fine. I just need a little more practice. My big show is in a week, and this is the only part of it that still needs some work. It’s still too unpredictable.”

Jackie sucked in a deep breath and looked at his little brother. He hadn’t been this excited about a show in such a long time. It was really nice to see him like this again. He let his hand fall from the back of his neck down to his side. “Fine, fine. If it really means that much to you,” Jackie paused and surprised him with a sudden choke hold, “but you owe me, little bro.”

Marvin tried to hold his own, but eventually opted for two taps on the offending arm. Jackie looked down at him as he tried to catch his breath. The magic man was shaking a bit. Normally that wouldn’t be a problem, but Jackie had been going easy on him. The shaking persisted for longer than it should’ve. The hero placed a hand on his little brother’s shoulder. “Hey, you good?”

Marvin froze for less than a second underneath the touch, but quickly regained his composure and flashed a dazzling smile. “Of course! You just caught me a little off-guard there. Now let’s get started.” He took Jackie by the wrist and started dragging him towards his room.

Once there Jackie got a good look around. Nothing really seemed out of place. It was pretty tidy except for the desk and bed. He’d have to talk to Marvin again about making his bed every morning again, not that it’d actually do anything. Something still felt off about the place, though. A feeling that Jackie hadn’t felt in a long time…

The sudden slam from Marvin’s door brought him out of his thoughts. “Alright. This is actually happening,” Marvin mumbled under his breath. He spun around and faced Jackie with bright eyes and a cheesy grin. “Thanks for doing this, by the way. It’s gonna be a big help. Just, uh, go ahead and sit down on the bed if you want.” He motioned towards the piece of furniture in question nonchalantly.

Jackie made to go to his assigned seat, but as he did, a slight tremor in Marvin’s left hand caught his eye. Nerves. It had to just be some performance jitters. Although it wasn’t like Marvin was putting on a show for him, it was just a little practice.

Marvin pulled up a chair in front of his older brother and brought out a deck of cards. Before he could begin, however, Jackie grabbed his attention. “You know I trust you, yeah? You’ve got this,” he reassured. He expected the magician to breathe a sigh of relief or maybe relax a bit, but he just stared at the hero. “Marvin?” he waved a hand in front of his brother’s face.

It took a moment before Marvin flinched back. “Huh? O-oh. Right. Thanks. Yeah, guess I’m just a bit nervous about the whole thing. Like I said, unpredictable,” he said, but then his eyes widened, “but totally safe. If I screw up, the most that’ll happen is that it just won’t work. Promise.” He cracked his neck and smirked at Jackie, “Although it only works on those that actually have a brain, and the jury’s still out on that one.”

Jackie playfully smacked Marvin’s leg and laughed, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of dread that kept creeping up on him. “Okay just relax and let me take you through this.” Marvin watched his hero take a deep breath and relax his shoulders. “Good. So hypnosis feels a lot like how it feels when you zone out while reading or listening to music. You get lost in it and the rest of the world just fades away. It’s important that when you feel yourself start to slip that you don’t try to fight it. Let everything I say, everything I do wash over you until it’s all that’s left.”

With every word, Jackie felt every bit of tension, every doubt or iota of negativity slowly fade away. “That’s it, Jackie. Now I want you to focus on the cards in my hand.” Jackie’s eyes found their way to the deck that Marvin had started to shuffle. The sound alone was like music to his ears, how serene the clacking that could only come from plastic hitting plastic. “Let each card take away a bit more of your attention. Let it guide you, sway you.” Marvin’s voice danced around Jackie’s head.

“Are you feeling sleepy, hero?” Jackie’s head bobbed slightly, never taking his eyes off of the cards. “Good. That’s good. I’m going to count back from 5, and with each number I want you to let yourself drift deeper and deeper. Each number, twice as deep, twice as deep.” Once again Jackie’s head nodded.

“5” Jackie could feel gravity start to take hold of his body.

“4” It was so relaxing.

“3” Why hadn’t he helped Marvin out before now?

“2” His eyes drifted closed.

“1” Marvin snapped his fingers, and Jackie went limp. The magician wanted to laugh. He’d done it. One of his finest tricks. A hero standing right in front of him, his mind putty waiting to be reshaped by his skillful hands.

“Jackie? Can you still hear me?” A slow nod was the response. “I want you to envision a clean whiteboard. Nothing is on it. No marks, just a blank white slate. I want you to picture it as clearly as you can. Now I want you to write your name on it. Take your time. Write your name, and then erase it. Write it again and erase it once more. I want you to keep writing and erasing until you feel comfortable. Give me a thumbs up once you’ve done that, okay?”

It was a minute or so before Jackie held up a shaky thumbs up to his brother. “Good. Now-” Marvin felt his throat tighten. It almost felt like a noose had wrapped itself around his neck, or more like a string.

No more tricks Kitten. Give me a real show. Just like we agreed.

The strangulation loosened itself, and Marvin let out a small gasp. He took a moment to collect himself, but he couldn’t get rid of his tremors this time. He looked up at his older brother who appeared so relaxed… and vulnerable.

“I’m sorry. I hope one day you’ll forgive me for not being as strong as you,” Marvin whispered as a silver tear slipped from its watery dam. “Okay. I want you to keep imagining that whiteboard. With every thought that enters your mind, I would like for you to write and erase it. Every thought, every thought, until it’s all… just… blank. Got that? Let your mind empty, let it all be erased over and over again.” Marvin allowed the silence left in the room envelope the both of them, until Jackie seemed completely and utterly blank.

Marvin stood up and walked over to be beside the hero. He flinched when a clawed hand found its way onto the magician’s shoulder, but he wasn’t surprised to see who it belonged to. Who he belonged to.

“Y͠ou d͞id͞ ͢g̵r̡ea͞t̕,͡ ̛p͜et̸.͜ ̵It͘’̨s͢ ̸ti̧me҉ for the̷ ̢n̛ext ̧ph̕ase.” Anti’s broken voice curdled within Marvin’s ears. “G͝et ̡i̡t ̕dòne͘.”

Marvin sighed in resignation, a deep sadness embedding itself into his very core, “Last thing hero. I need you to write Anti on the whiteboard, but don’t erase it. Keep writing it. Keep writing the name Anti. It’s the only name you’ve ever known, isn’t it? It’s the only name you will ever need to know.” Marvin knew he couldn’t see it, but he signed a quick, “I love you,” towards his lost brother.

“I’m going to count to 5 again, and when I do you’ll find that you are rising up, up, up and out of the deep that you’ve been in. When I count to 5, you’ll find that you are awake. Understand?” He didn’t wait for Jackie’s affirmation. With how much static was swirling around the room, he already knew that the command had buried itself in his head.

“1” He’s such an awful brother.

“2” How could he have been such a coward?

“3” Why couldn’t Anti just leave them alone?

“4” Why did he ever think he could escape?

“5” Why did he ever think he was anything other than a puppet?

Jackie’s head snapped up at the final number. He gazed around the room before he ended his visual exploration on Marvin. The magician stuttered out, “J-Jackie? How are you feeling?”

“Who?” There wasn’t even a hint of recognition on his face. It looked like he was about to launch into a flurry of questions, but he was stopped by the eruption of laughter that had materialized behind Marvin.

“You promised me a show, Kitten, but this is just too much!” Anti began circling his new puppet, like a predator would his wounded prey. He carded his hands through the hero’s hair, delighted to feel him lean into the touch. “W̢e̵ll ͢h͘e͜l͏lo͡ ̀th̢er̴e͟. I̵’m͢ ̛Ant̨i. Án̴d ̕y̨ou ar̶e?̛” The glitch never got his answer because Jackie practically flung himself at Anti as soon as he had mentioned his name.

Jackie looked up at the demon, brought to near tears. “I know you! I know you! Anti! I know you!” Another laugh ripped itself from Anti’s throat and into the air around them.

His acid green eyes bore into Marvin’s sky blue ones as he said, “Th̶ank͠s ̧f͞or͘ ͠t̡h҉e b͜ir͢t̴hd͠a͝y҉ ̸pr̴e͟s̡e͡nt,͝ ̧p͟up̧pet̛.̕ ̧.̨I̴ ̀can’̧t̸ ͡wa͝it͠ ͟t͘o҉ see ͟ẁh̵at҉ yo̢u do ̵next̡ ̧ti̷m͞e.” With that, he glitched out of the room, whisking Jackie away with him. That last thing Marvin saw was Jackie’s face in complete adoration of his captor. He fell to his knees after the pair were gone, the deafening silence mocking him for his success, for his failure.

(Wow, it’s been forever since I’ve gotten to write anything! I had a lot of fun writing this one. I actually used some of the phrases that were said to me while I was being hypnotized. Don’t worry, though, my experience was a lot better than this one haha. Anyway, Happy Birthday to the glitch bitch!)

#writing in theory #jse egos #jse fanfiction #jacksepticeye #antisepticeye #marvin the magnificent #jackieboy man #hypnosis tw #happy birthday anti #glitch bitch

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grapeinacape-blog · 5 years ago

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The Cold Hand, by Alex Goodwin

This story is entirely based on true events of the occurrences in Longstanton, from the dates of the 10th of April 2017, to the 24th of November 2017. The case can be followed through newspapers and is often referred to as the ‘High Street Dismemberment’.

As a quiet village, the happenings were kept to a minimum. Most people knew each other well and I was one of such villagers. The crime rates were low, maybe because it was such a small place, or maybe because it was such a slow town. There were dog walkers and day drinkers, as all places offer.

But when the murder happened, it’s like they went into limbo. It was on the news first thing Tuesday morning. A murder so horrible, it shocked everyone as to the lengths some people will go to. It was dramatically horrific, a dismembered body, all bloody as it lay for the world to see in the middle of High Street. Her head lay, like a ragdoll, mucky blonde hair covered her slim face, whilst her torso lay in the middle, on her back, chest torn out as if ravaged by a wild animal. But no animal, the report said, could have removed her legs so expertly, crossed them beneath her as though creating a symbol which beckoned a silent prayer, to a God that did not exist. For if He existed, He would not have let this happen.

Passers-by stared in horror. People screamed. The cameras could show no footage and the police were baffled. It took 4 days for her to be identified.

“Her name is Lisa Hightower, she’s 26 years old and is from Derby. She was visiting friends in the village. They were concerned when she didn’t return home, though had received a text stating she was staying with a gentleman that night and returning the next day. It is in both her and the public’s, best interest to find this gentleman and understand what he knows. If anyone saw any suspicious behaviour the night of the 9th of April, call us now. If you have seen this woman, let us know.”

After watching the report, viewers stayed to watch the image of a pretty woman on their screen. No longer mucky, her wavy blonde hair fell to her shoulders and her face was no longer obstructed. Slim cheeks, with a round chin and small nose. Tight lips stretched into a smile painted with red. Bright blue eyes that shone as she posed in front of the camera. She never thought it would end up here, not like this. She had dreams, like so many others do. She wished to be on the stage, acting and singing. She’d done a couple of hits in the musicals, back in Derby and had caught a bug for it.

She was a kind woman, she spared a moment for everyone, which is what ended her life in the end. She stopped to chat in the middle of anywhere she went. She was always smiling and just had such a pure heart. That’s why it was such a crime that she’d been taken, because what could the motive be if no one was out to get her? Did it mean that everyone was at risk of being ripped apart in the middle of the street?

The town was abuzz, all wondering who, or what, could have done something as cruel as this to such a bright young woman.

“Must be a sick man, that one. Some sickening fantasy to get into her pants, then rip her apart. Poor girl, she had her whole life ahead of her.”

“I’ll tell you what they should do, they should string him up. Hang him and cut him apart. Death penalty’s too good for him, I say.”

When a man was finally found, they found themselves eating their words. All talk, no play, apparently. This story is a difficult one to tell. It was as though the facts unravelled themselves before your very eyes in slow motion. Watching Detective Hall beg the public for information, to his grave announcement that the man in question had been found. Curled blonde hair was found in Joseph Mackenzie’s bed, clumps of it in his bag, along with a knife. Though apparently the end of the case, it seemed we would have no luck.

“Joseph Mackenzie has been found in his apartment. His time of death approximates to half an hour before that of Lisa Hightower. Though our main suspect, he has now been ruled out. Once again, we ask for any information as to their whereabouts that night. Lisa Hightower must have left the apartment.”

This shook the village even more. Many of them read between the lines. Not only had their main suspect been eliminated, but he was their only suspect. They were back to square one. Now, many of the followers of this investigation knew a few things about crime. They knew, that not only was this a horrible crime, but that no sane man could live with himself having destroyed not only one, but two people in this way. He’d have to come forward at some point or another.

Joseph was not found in the same way as Lisa. He was not bare, for the world to see, every part detached from the other. No, he was a break in the pattern, they said. Though, how a pattern could be established after one killing, is unusual. Joseph lay in his bed, as though sleeping. His ruffled hair in his eyes, his shirt strewn amongst the rest of his possessions on the ground. It was only when the duvet was pushed off him that they noticed the gaping hole where his stomach once lived.

On his bedside table was a picture of his four-year-old son, Samuel. It seemed clear to everyone that the murderer’s only intent was ruining lives and pulling people apart the most gruesome way possible. Again, the quiet village was thrown into limbo. People became scared to leave their houses. They were assured it was a one-time murder. But the locals weren’t convinced.

It took months before there were any developments, leaving months for people to return to their normal lives and all but forget the case that had shook them. There was no news from the police, until we watched as a man was dragged, kicking and screaming from the local pub. Greying hair, thin-framed glasses and the beginnings of a beer belly.

The officers in charge, had managed to trace the text that Lisa had sent, back to her location at the time. After finding this, they then managed to follow that trace. She’d had her location on the whole night. After drinking, she made her way back to Joseph’s apartment. She was there for approximately an hour, before leaving the flat and making her way towards Stevenson’s Road. Walking down it, it seemed Lucas was awake, inviting the girl in. She stood outside for an extended period of time, refusing to go in. With his wife away, maybe that was what encouraged the desperate plea for companionship. The phone followed her into the house eventually. And there it remained, down the back of the sofa. The murderer had then planted evidence both at Mackenzie’s residence and elsewhere to remove himself from the murder completely. But it hadn’t worked as well, as he’d hoped.

“Clever, isn’t it? That phone could’ve saved her life. That phone is bringing the darling the justice she deserves.”

Lucas refused to talk for weeks. He did not deny the charges, he was too scared to. He did not agree to ever meeting, nor tearing the young lady apart. He simply sat, tight lipped, staring at the wall.

“Lucas Bell, you’re being held here for the suspected murder of both Lisa Hightower and Joseph Mackenzie. Remind us of your whereabouts on the 9th of April.”

“I was at home.” The quiet voice replied, to the officer that sat opposite him.

“Anyone able to prove that?”

After a pause, Lucas had replied with a simple shake of his head.

His family had been away for the week and by being away they had permitted the murder of Lisa. Following his few answers, he lapsed back into a silence. There were no ‘no comments’, nor more movements of the head. He simply lost the urge to fight back.

He was charged with two accounts of murder. By the time the court date arrived, Lucas Bell was a sunken shell of a man. The growing beer belly had disappeared, and his clothes hung off him. His hair was all grey now, except for the few streaks of black that still remained. His face was hollow and when the jury met his eyes, there was nothing there. His lawyer tried, but Lucas gave him nothing to work with. He just stood there, staring.

It didn’t take too long for Lucas to be sentenced to life in prison.

“After one of the most horrific cases I have come across in my time here, there is no doubt that Lucas Bell must be found guilty on both accounts.”

Once again, the small village was stunned into silence. I don’t know, to this day, whether it was relief that this man was off the streets and serving time for such a horrid display of human nature. Or whether it was shock, that the man that lived so close to all of us, that drank our beer and bought our food, had been capable of something like that. A normal man, with a lovely wife, 2 children and a grandchild on the way.

In a way, that’s what all this was for, really. Lucas Bell exposed humans for what they are and in turn gave this village an entertainment. Now, even a year later, Lucas still hasn’t said anything. He is no longer a sunken man, but barely a man at all. Empty not only physically, but emotionally.

Blood stains the High Street, even when washed away. And blood stains a man’s hand, even when scrubbed away. Red, raw hands that remind him of the price he had to pay. Was it all worth it?

***

“’Alex Goodwin’s novel has hit the shelves like a tidal wave. It offers inner details of the tragedy that struck Longstanton. Experience dark interviews with the police and descriptions of the images that have been kept from the public eye. Now a bestseller, it’d be an absolute murder not to pick the book up today.’ I bet you were glowing from the response your story received.”

“It’s true, I was shocked by the amount of feedback I received on my work. I’d always written crime novels. My other work features fictional accounts, however. Such as ‘The End.’, ‘No Rest For the Wicked.’ But nothing worked as well as this did. I’d known for a while I should write a real-life account of a crime, but everything had been done. I needed something new, fresh and local.”

The recorders were switched off and I felt myself relax in my chair, as the assistant brought through my coffee.

“Can I get you anything else?”

Smiling up at the woman, I take a moment. That’s what it’s all about, really. Using this newfound hierarchy to see what I could have, if I really wanted it. And I did really want it.

“You know, for my story I used a research method of conflation of information that had been given by the officers, and Lisa’s family and friends.”

I let my hand brush across hers as I reach for the coffee. I’m certain her cheeks go pink, though I don’t need to look to check.

“Very clever, Mr Goodwin. We’ve just got a couple more questions, before we finish up here. Is that alright?”

“Of course, dear. And what are you doing once we’re finished?”

She doesn’t reply to that, leaving the room as I sip at my coffee, staring at the wall as I wait for the others to return with her. I don’t have to wait very long, though I’ve already drunk half my coffee now. The recorders are switched on again.

“How long had you been writing before ‘The Cold Hand’?”

“Oh, years. With no success of course.”

“You’re a young man, Alex. You had lots of your life ahead of you, why were you so desperate to get the fame now?”

“Good looks don’t get you everywhere.” I laugh.

It’s true. I think, truly, if looks got you anywhere at all, this woman would be a lot prettier than she is. And the man beside her wouldn’t be a balding middle-aged one, but a fit, toned young man.

“You like a good-looking person though, don’t you?” It comes off as an accusation, but I shrug it off.

“Who doesn’t?”

“And Lisa Hightower was one such woman.”

“She was very pretty, yes.”

Putting my coffee cup down I lean back in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Well then, tell us again, if you can, Mr Goodwin, your whereabouts on the night of the 9th of April.”

“No comment.”

“Did you threaten Lucas Bell’s wife and family, so that he would take the fall?”

“No comment.”

“Why kill Lisa Hightower?”

“Why does anyone do anything, Inspector? I deserved my big break. And I got it.”

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kazblove · 6 years ago

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Social Butterfly in April

Do you ever find that time has flown past so quick as they say in a blink of an eye and before you uknow it it’s over a month gone by since last reflected on your life. Well that’s me right now, I remember looking at my calendar in March and thinking wow I have a crazy social life coming up the next couple of months. Looking forward to all the events and enjoying some time where I could get dressed up with make up on and now here we are and all those particular events have passed.

So First off the last weekend in march one of my good friends had their Hen do in Brighton, we all stayed in an apartment and I was so worried about not knowing anyone apart from the bride but in fact had a brilliant time, majority of them all worked in health care as well so of course that meant we had a bond already. The weather was extremely kind to us with spring weather occurring and meaning walking through Brighton near the beach with only a light jacket on. Plenty of prosecco………………….in fact probably verging on copious amounts of prosecco…………………its a Hen party right!? Would be rude to not indulge on such a special weekend. The events we organised went down well with the bride and plenty of fun and laughter was had by all. I would certainly recommend “The Copper Rooms” where we partook in cocktail making, good laugh, plenty of cocktails to make and Bar tender was pretty good as well (wink wink). Nice we had our own private room to which made it feel all my intimate. Feel Like also have to mention “The painting Pottery Café” as well, I know what you’re thinking, pottery painting on a Hen weekend, wow these are not particular crazy girls lol. Well you would be true on that account but it was right up the bride’s street and actally quite fun especially as they allow you to bring your own prosecco to the occasion!!. Now Im not particular into art and crafts so initially went along with this for my friend…………….as it was all about her this weekend………………but in fact I have to admit I rather enjoyed it in the end. The staff looking after us were great fun and they helped me to find my inner craft and allowed me to take part with no judgment of how rubbish I was at drawing/painting and crafts lol. Think to be fair I have to take back my judgement of this kind of activity and say it was rather therapeutic really and I thoroughly enjoyed myself.

As you can imagine though any crazy weekend with lots of drinking and not enough sleep always takes its toll, im not exactly 21 anymore!! So was feeling rather shattered? Being a nurse and having a busy social month does not always mix and I had 2 weeks before my friends actual wedding and what felt like a month worth of 12 hour shifts within those two weeks. Oh plus a first birthday party on my only day off in those two weeks. As you can imagine I was starting to look how I felt and that’s not a good look for someone in their 30’s but somehow when you want to live a life and not just work you pull yourself through. Although didn’t make it through completely without fault, I picked up my first bloody cold, managed the whole winter without one and there I was in spring with a right stinker!! Anyway enough of my moaning, I made it through dosed up and on the high of seeing my friend get married to the man of her dreams and who were practically child hood sweet hearts.

Her wedding was intimate, beautiful and showed completely how in love they were, everything about it screamed them both and what I was so in ore about was how many delicate little touches my friend had made and completed by her own fair hand. I always knew she was talented but this wedding showed exactly how talented. It was good to be surrounded by the ladies from the Hen weekend and enjoy the music, the prosecco (yes more prosecco) and celebrate the love clearly in front of us.

I can’t believe after all that I have spoken about there is still one more social event for this month, now for those who don’t know me I have to clear this up, normally I am the type of person who is messaging around trying to get people to meet up so I have things planned and things to do rather than just going to work and watching Netflix on my days off. I don’t normally have such a social calendar but April seems to have been such an exception to this rule for me. So the last event was booked over a year ago and I was so excited. Me and 3 friends went to see “All about Eve” at the Noel Coward Theatre. Now this is staring Gilling Anderson and Lily James, now I have followed Gillian Anderson since I was young as I was a massive X-Files fan so you can imagine how excited I was to see her live in a play. It didn’t let me down, the play was brilliant, the acting was great from them all and I enjoyed every minute of it. The seats were not exactly prime seating, was right at the back and hardly any leg room, considering im very short legged this shows how little room there was because its not normally something I get to moan about. But the play was that good it didn’t really affect me to a great extent. I would recommend this play if it ever comes back again, as I know it sold out last year and is only on for a limited time frame this year.

I don’t really have many more social events in April but just to show to you all how crazy my diary was looking I also had to attend Jury Service for 2 weeks. Ive never done this before so you can imagine the underlying anxiety that was there throughout although I certainly hyped it up into something more concerning then it actually was. In fact thanks to jury service I hope I have come out with a better understanding of our legal system and how it works and also two new friends. Spent most of the two weeks talking to two other people whom I found a real connection with and enjoyed their company so much so we have already met for brunch since we finished and with another date in the calendars. I always think as you get older making new friends is hard and its difficult to meet different people so im so glad that something such as jury service has enabled me to do this. They are great people and I really enjoy their company and cant wait to meet up with them again.

So that’s my crazy april month, I cant say that each month is going to be the same, and will no doubt morph me back into the boring anti-social person I can be, although can I point out this is not always through choice I just don’t have many single friends or ones without children so its more of a challenge to meet up and do things. I need to get better at organising in advance and arranging nights out myself otherwise life will be dull again.

#weddings #sociallife #nurselife

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ezairick · 7 years ago

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Unpopular opinions about NCIS

When NCIS first began, I loved the show. It had interesting characters and cases, and there was more focus on the interaction of the characters than with the other relatively new show, CSI. This didn’t mean I was blind to problems with the show, but they were relatively minor compared to the show just a few seasons later. The small problems became big problems and though the show can still be entertaining, though I must admit that I haven’t watched any of the newer episodes after Tony left, so can’t speak to anything after that.

The cases themselves changed. For the first two seasons, while they certainly dealt with terrorism, the cases of the first two season were mainly crimes committed by ordinary people because of grief, love, envy, money, stupidity and so on. However, ever since Ziva joined the team, it felt like every case was about terrorism. I know that is not entirely true, but it seemed like every episode started with a bomb going off, and then instead of an interesting episode of guessing who could have done the murder, and why, now you instead wondered which terrorist group was going to get mentioned this time, and for what ideology. And honestly, it got boring real fast.

Which brings me to the characters of the show.

Gibbs is probably the most iconic character on the show, but let’s be honest, if NCIS was real he would have been fired years ago. Comparing Gibbs of season 1 and 2 to the rest of the show, it is easy to see that Gibbs was changed, and not just because of the amnesia. He was always a bastard but in the first two seasons, he had more principles, he didn’t break the law, he certainly bent it but he didn’t break it, and he didn’t commit crimes or let others get away with it. The whole plot surrounding his Shannon and Kelly, and murdering the guy who killed them, was not thought up, before the change in the management, which happened between season 2 and 3.

There are many issues with Gibbs, some of which were there from the start. There is his behaviour towards his team. No one should be allowed to head slap a colleague, besides being abusive it shows disrespect. And I feel this is part of the reason that Kate, McGee, and Ziva did not take DiNozzo seriously. Another reason for this is that Gibbs set DiNozzo up for fail. Because he created a flat structure, McGee and Ziva saw themselves equal to DiNozzo in terms of rank, even though he was the Senior Field Agent. And as the SFA he was supposed to be in charge when Gibbs wasn’t there but because Gibbs didn’t respect the position, and treated all three as if they were of equal rank, DiNozzo was often undermined by the others, and therefore incapable of doing part of his job.

Though Gibbs took pride in being a bastard, he should never have been allowed to run his team, like that, nor should he have been allowed to keep them at work for so many hours as he did. After all agents who haven’t slept nor eaten are far more likely to commit serious mistakes. Another difference between the first two seasons and later is that in the first two seasons we often see Gibbs, helping with the collection of evidence, sketching, and taking photos, but now he just mainly stand around asking, Ducky for a time of death, and drink coffee.

Further, just why is it Gibbs is treated like a god at NCIS? The directors of NCIS, except for Tom Morrow, who kept Gibbs at his proper place as the team leader of MCRT, though if truly proper place he should just have fired him, Jenny and Vance seem to treat Gibbs as if he can do nothing wrong, even when he is causing more problems. Gibbs completely run over them and acts like he is the director of NCIS and everything must go his way, and what is worse the directors let him. He is constantly given access to things he should not, and make decisions way above his pay grade. He is treated more like a co-director than anything else. And this is the same guy, who killed the man who killed his family, way to start your law enforcement career, who helped Mike Franks smuggle in immigrants, again not necessarily bad but he works for a law enforcement agency, allowed Mike Franks to not only get away with assaulting his agent, DiNozzo, but also allowed him to get away with murder, seriously the only way you can tell Gibbs is supposed to be the good guy, is that he has a badge.

Gibbs also constantly live by the rule – Do as I say not as I do – and as seen requiem it nearly let to the death of himself and a civilian, but he didn’t seem to have learned anything from that.

The team might have the highest closing rates, because of Gibbs, but it will naturally also have the lowest conviction rates of any teams at NCIS. I know we don’t get to see the aftermath of a case after Gibbs have gotten his confession, but if we did it would be of a flustered prosecutor, trying to convince the jury that the guy at trial is a bad guy, because Gibbs said he is. And that would be what the prosecutor had to work with, when trying to get a conviction. Gibbs often don’t have the time to get a warrant, even seems to think he is above such things, but that means that everything they find in the houses or other privately owned places they enter without warrants Is inadmissible in court and so is everything else found based on those finds. And the same applies with McGee’s and Abby’s hacking. Further the confession can be tossed because of Gibbs threatening behaviour in the interrogation room.

Gibbs is mostly known for being a bastard and seems to take pride in it, but how can he be such a role model, and why don’t the show realise that there is something wrong with having a team leader, who treats his team with disrespect, especially DiNozzo, who has serious issues with control, as in throwing tantrums when not the person in control of things, a person who is willing to actively sabotage other people’s cases just so he can close his case, and a person who seems incapable of handling any form of competition, and always have to be the best, in his own definition of the word.

For Tony DiNozzo I would like to give a huge shout out to Michael Weatherly, who managed to make Tony a comprehensive and cohesive character despite his character either being a complete moron only there as the comic relief, or an extremely competent investigator, lightyears ahead of the others, depending on who wrote the script for that week, so props to that. Tony is my favourite character on the show, but that doesn’t mean I don’t understand when people see him as annoying. He can be. He is constantly going through people’s things, and he wants to know everything he can about them and what they are doing. He also plays various pranks on his team mates, however he is not abusing nor bullying the others. Those descriptions fit Abby, Ziva, and McGee better.

Starting in season 3 DiNozzo has been dumbed down to, I suspect, make the other characters look that much more impressive. Despite this DiNozzo is still the best at investigating, also when you look at their educations. Phys. Ed. Isn’t just about sports, they are also required to know anatomy and psychology, add to that his many years in law enforcement as a detective. On the other hand, Ziva and McGee, who both had a few seasons where they seemed to think that they are so much better than DiNozzo, and were more suited to be the SFA, are actually less prepared to be investigators. McGee is a better fit for the Cyber Crime Unit as that is all his education qualifies him for, and though Ziva was trained by the Mossad, they are not an investigation agency, they do espionage. That is like saying because I ride horses, and horses are often on grass fields, I must be exceptional at golf, because it also takes place on grass. Besides as a liaison officer assigned to NCIS she would never have been made SFA, nor should she ever have been allowed on the team. I sort of like Ziva, but every time I start really liking her, the writers pulled a new stunt, that just worked against her. And unlike McGee and Abby we didn’t have those seasons and episodes to help us like her more.

I talked before about how Abby, McGee, and Ziva were bullies without explaining how. Now as before I stated that DiNozzo could be annoying and I can certainly see that and understand how that can be frustrating having to work with him, but DiNozzo has never questioned the qualifications of his fellow colleagues, which those three have done repeatedly, or said that the only reason they had the position they had was because of how long they had been there and not because they were qualified and competent, nor has he ever considered them incompetent and incapable of doing their jobs, Abby and her training stickers amongst general statements made by the others. He has never second guessed them in front of witnesses or argued with them about his work in front of other colleagues or witnesses. He has never pulled a gun on them and threatened to shoot them, and he has never ever left them without backup and then treated that significant breach in trust as a joke. If I had to choose I would rather work with someone who could be annoying than work with people who routinely questioned my ability to do my job and my position on the team.

I actually like Bishop, it took a while to settle her character, but she is not as antagonistic as Ziva and Kate, which makes for a nice change, and she seems to respect the chain of command. The show has settled down some between Tony, McGee, Ellie, as there aren’t as much in fighting and backstabbing as there was before with Ziva, and to some respect Kate, on the team. It’s nice that the team can be seen more like friends instead of colleagues who hate each other.

Ziva and McGee broke the fundamental rule of law enforcement, you don’t leave your partner without backup, which they did in the episode Dead Air, and for the rest of the episode it was treated like the greatest joke ever, after all, leaving your partner unable to call for help should he need it, when looking for a terrorist who has already killed three people and are saying that more are to come, is just do damn funny. I will say I have read some fanfiction dealing with this episode, and though for the most part I like them, one thing that puzzles me about it, is that the authors of these stories often put the majority of the blame on Ziva and then redeem McGee. I think the reason for that is that as I stated before that we have episodes of naïve baby McGee who listened to Tony to fall back on, while Ziva started out as the sister of Ari, who killed Kate, and a short time later, was the new colleague who thought it a good idea to invite every person of the extended team except Tony, and then the woman who refused to give vital information to Tony, and instead decided that she would only tell Gibbs about Rivkin, and then as the grieving woman who pulled a gun on Tony, to the woman who paid Tony back for saving her from Somalia by leaving him without backup. Unless you’re a Ziva or Tiva fan it is easy to see why she gets the punishment while McGee who is just as guilty is given redemption.

Which brings me to the bane of NCIS: Tiva. I get it, both Tony and Ziva are played by attractive people, and the writers certainly ended up pushing it down our throats. Or at least for us who don’t like Tiva. Normally I get that people have different tastes and therefore ship different pairings, and I am fine with that. I am not the shipping police, but let’s be honest when it comes to Tiva, it’s just plain wrong. If Ziva was played by someone not attractive or it was Tony who had pulled all that shit on Ziva instead of the other way around, people would have been busy shouting about the obvious abusive relationship, but it is not so and instead the relationship seem to be a fan favourite.

I have never understood that and especially after Dead Air. How can you possible justify a loving and respectful relationship between them when Ziva was very much willing to let Tony die, when she left him without backup. How can there be a relationship between them, a good healthy and respectful relationship, when it is obvious from just watching a few episodes that Ziva does not in any way respect Tony nor respect his position on the team? If you are unable to respect your partner at work, then how can you possibly respect them at home? And why would they even be together? Why would Ziva be with Tony when she doesn’t respect Tony at work, and routinely disrespect him and questions his competence and orders? And why would Tony like someone who doesn’t respect him, has pulled a gun on him, have actually shot him, although by mistake, and someone who left him without backup and then laughed about it?

There are many more things that are bugging me about NCIS, but this is the end of this rant. Sorry for the ramblings.

#ncis #leroy jethro gibbs #gibbs #tony dinozzo #anthony dinozzo #ziva david #tim mcgee #mcgee #abby #abby sciuto #tiva #dead air #personal rant #sorry for the rant #ellie bishop #bishop

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cow5secondchance · 3 years ago

Text

Episode 4 - Honestly I’m a Vindictive Person - Blake

Format: The Penthouse

Eliminated: Mario & Jennet (4-4-4 // 4-4-1)

WILLIAM

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NICOLE

These little weirdos don’t know what they’ve just done! Lit a fire under my ASS. I’m so sick of feeling down in this game like every week is something else that I get dragged into and then the one week I’m planning nothing, thinking everything is going smoothly and my number 1 ally goes home after literally being pummeled the whole game. I’m so damn annoyed. I want the switch, I want top of the penthouse or whatever they call it. I want power so I can feel like I can shake things up!!!!

CAPTAIN

hello everyone i forgot to update yall since the second week so here we go! so we pulled off the plan to evict wyatt and i was so scared that they were going to pick me but i guessed they still love me and that makes me feel bad but urgh.. i just hope they could be able to come back </3 now we're moving to the daisy chain round in which isaac ruined everything after he saved nicole when he should save mario so thats a red flag. anyways, i came up with the plan to save everyone from the greenhouse and pretty people wink wink and i did that so congrats me. anyways, isaac put mario up and i was like maam not mario. no one talked to me about the votes. the alliance with blake, jennet, autumn, nicole, isaac and jarod? i think was made and now blake is upset with me for not telling him everything when i didn't talk about anyone in this vote and i just voted out isaac because i couldn't vote out mario? so white man.... urgh

these white ppl are freaking out too much

XAVIER

I want to end up in the Penthouse. Put Kaleigh last, so she gets eliminated, as I don't think her Defender will save her. And then the 4 options left, the 6 who voted together now will just have to vote together again. I want those who are really playing to stay longer, even if they are threats to me. It's just more fun. So none of those just popping up to vote :) All plans though. Might delete later haha.

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JAROD

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NYX

So this week went the way I wanted it to but not without a bunch of complications. So the daisy chain went pretty well I mean we controlled it from beginning to end and I think that we made it obvious enough to where the greenhouse people weren't seen as an immediate target. Then isaac and kaleigh ended up being up for banishment and I was really happy since kaleigh i don't talk to as much and i just voted isaac as well as him being way too chaotic for my liking. When Kaleigh won the uproot though that's when i got nervous because that meant there was gonna be a replacement and of course with my luck it was mario. Now this round changed my outlook on a lot of things because when i was campaigning for mario mario didn't do anything. He wasn't talking to people, he wasn't making bonds, and it's so fucking hard to save someone who won't save themself. There's also the fact that all of sequester voted the exact same way to save isaac which is also suspicious. Granted we in the greenhouse did as well. So this makes me realize that probably sometime soon, i'm gonna have to renege on the greenhouse four because mario clearly isn't gonna help my game much when it's my ass and were gonna be such an obvious target moving forward. Since the vote was 6-4 besides sequester and GH i don't think there's any clear alliances made so depending on who wins power this round i'm gonna have to make the move. the question right now is just how?

I put a lot of effort into winning that penthouse comp so it sucks that I didn't win BUT. If there was anything i trust to put my faith in it's definitely william since we just pulled a big move together so ik he'll at least have my back. I think i have a good chance of surviving this round but i guess we'll see

XAVIER

I AM SO BAD AT CHALLENGES. I reviewed the videos and all the details. But got bogged down with reading Wyatt's question - not the color of the shirt Wyatt is wearing! And just counted the painted art of Jennet, not the total. OH WELL. I have a pretty good relationship with William. I don't think I'll be in the bottom 5. Just depends now on who has the Switch and if it will be used on me. I feel it is with Jarod. Who else would Isaac give it to? Maybe Jarod won't use it on me, I think Jarod would have other targets aside from me at this point. So Greenhouse 4 still here. Mario is ... Mario. Wish Mario were more active. Harder to defend Mario now. I have a good relationship with Lindsay, William, even Kaleigh. Jarod too. Blake we get to talk. Autumn, Nicole and Jennet, I have been reaching out, but they are just so "busy" or maybe I am just not on their priority list. The Greenhouse 4 (well, 3 without Mario), William, Jennet, Lindsay voted together last round. So hopefully if we get to stick together this round, we will be safe too.

BLAKE

im feeling a bit down about my spot in the game! I think im probably a pick to go soon, and I really just need to find my footing in order to make a move in this game gr! last week i was at work, but it seems like william and nyx flipped the vote? but i cant be angry about it w/ william even though i AM so i decided just to rant about everybody ELSE to william and i think my whineyness is really working for me, serving nicole franzel, because i think william wants jennet gone which is like- good cause i think shes in the middle of the game.

CAPTAIN

william won the power! so.. i really don't know the outcomes tbh cause like even though we voted together last round, i didn't really talk to him (or anyone) about the vote. so i'm a little worried. i just hope the bond that we have made on the first round helps a bit with his decision.. please please i just wanna make it..

JAROD

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XAVIER

Nice line up for bottom 5, William. Most voted with him last round except for Nicole and Kaleigh. I think he believes Kaleigh won't be saved and so eliminated first. And then Nicole would be the target. I was surprised Isaac gave Nicole the switch. I thought it would go to Jarod. Maybe Isaac thought that too, so shook things up a little. I don't think Nicole will switch me. I would want the kill used, so we don't worry about it later on. But if mostly Greenhouse is on the bottom (if Nicole switches out with Nyx), then we should use save to mess things up.

Why does it feel like I am the only one making strategic plans with these 3? Am I in the wrong alliance? Maybe I can get us 4 to sure Jury and switch to Nicole, Jarod and Blake. Ugh. Tiring.

NYX

So, this week I thought that I would be good I mean william won the penthouse comp I was safe and while the bottom five wasn't desirable i'll take it. Then of course karma comes back to bite me in the ass and the guy i orchestrated a vote out for chose the one person I couldn't have getting the karma got it and i know for a fact based on the fact nicole refuses to hold any type of intelligent conversations with me i'm in trouble

XAVIER

Could it be? Don't want to jinx it but..... https://youtu.be/wKP0hNmg4gE

BLAKE

I’m so glad I had a literal mental breakdown last week over everything because one thing didn’t go my way. Really embarrassing for me BEBSNSNSK but anyways! Moving on! I’m hoping Kaleigh doesn’t get the boot honestly and it’s a heavy vote, considering I put in a lot of work to get myself to 2nd in the totem poll and had to release a lot of information to William to get here, it would be really unfortunate if I were to somehow end up vulnerable through a twist ! The reason I don’t want Kaleigh gone is because there are 2 other people I would rather go in the bottom (jennet and captain) for flipping. Honestly I’m a vindictive person and LOVE them but, they gotta GO just out of spite truly. I’m really happy with the new alliance of Lindsay myself William and Jarod, and the reason I’m apologizing for being a literal nut job last week is because I made everything about me, I was spiralling because I was having stress with work and everything I think? Who knows? And I really don’t think I’m in as bad of a spot as I thought I was, especially if I can knock out some big players and Isaac or daisy wins the battle back. As for the battle back! I’ll rank the 4 people out right now on how much I want them to return 1- Isaac 2- Daisy 3- Wyatt 4- Lanie

XAVIER

I AM IN THE JURY FOR SURE! I mean, I want to win, but for sure I am not pre-jury! Now the double vote. It was a waste of the save. Nicole should have just eliminated Kaleigh. Now it means the second round of Penthouse will be an automatic elimination. That would be tough. I know many are looking at Kaleigh and Mario to vote. But if most put votes on Kaleigh, and a few on Mario, could we still swing the second vote off Mario? And onto a bigger threat? Maybe it will help us more farther along in the game. And who doesn't want a group of 4 lasting longer? There might actually be more votes on Mario than Kaleigh, because of the Greenhouse returnees still being complete. Let me think more on this. One of them is surely going home, do you want to save the other for a bigger threat like Jennet or Lindsay? I am cool with Lindsay. Jennet I haven't forgotten being their nominee.

I am not pre-jury! I know I kept saying pre-merge in the video haha Survivor on the brain. https://youtu.be/SErcWUpfCwo

CAPTAIN

[this is gonna be a throwback diary room entry!] william put me in the bottom 5.. not surprised i think. i was hoping if our connection we made in the first round was gonna help here but its not. but i don't blame him.. i rlly flop with talking to people the past couple of days teehee. so thats kinda the wake up call for me to like keep talking to people or else i'll be over. i don't have any bad blood with william i think but i also won't forget that he's putting me in the bottom 5. period.

NYX

Ok so, with this heavy vote twist this means one of either Jennet, Lindsay, Mario, Captain, or maybe Kaleigh will be up to be voted for. This sucks because those first 4 are close allies. So now i'm stuck between a rock and a hard place because i'm gonna have to let one of them go. so now i have to pick my loyalties. I would like to get Kaleigh and maybe Mario out because then we'd be forced to work with other people in other alliances but I just don't think Xavier would turn on them like that. I just have to find some kind of excuse to pull this off.

CAPTAIN

nicole saved kaleigh! thats good for kaleigh! this vote tho is gonna be something.. i don't wanna go so i'm fighting hard. blake told me he's not voting me. i know i can trust jarod, jennet and autumn and the greenhouse people.. so i think i'll be fine here? but idk. anything freaky could happen. for the voting plan, i think GH4 is gonna do kaleigh so thats 4 votes on her. and hopefully, jarod, jennet, autumn, blake and nicole is doing mario so it would be 5 on him. and lindsay told me she won't vote me so i think she might do mario too? since mario isn't talking to ppl. this is always my issue with mario like i love him but he doesn't even want to save himself and i just can't carry him anymore.

AUTUMN

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XAVIER

So I was going to try and vote someone else out. I mean majority look like they are voting Mario. So the G4 would be voting Kaleigh. If I could just convince Mario to vote someone else, it would be 2-2. But then Blake messages and says that the G4 are voting together, so is there something. So in order to just make sure Kaleigh gets out and not cause extra drama, I am sticking to Kaleigh. Well, it is kinda obvious I guess. I just told Blake I wanted to help us all get to "merge" since we had the worst placements of all coming in the game. I hope that was convincing enough.

So G4 voted for Kaleigh, I knew it if I switched to Jennet then Jennet and Mario would have gone home. But at least it's out in the open. So I think Sequester+Jennet voted for Mario. And Penthouse+Survivor (the others) voted for Jennet. Good to know where Jarod and Blake really stand, even with all their messages to me. The swing votes are the other 4. Gotta make better relationships with William, Lindsay and Nicole. And what's up Blake? Outing the G4 in the group call? When Sequester is the same, good thing Nyx brought it up. Watch your back, Blake.

LINDSAY

Not thrilled about this vote for many reasons. So, William gets power, and he messages me, right? "I want to work with you me Jarod and Blake" okay that's cool but uhhh.... there's six white people left in the game and that's four of them... so me and jarod message like "???" and we work to stop the noms from being all POC cuz that's gross (the intention was Jennet+Greenhouse/Nicole which uhhhhhh). I talked him into at least nomming Kaleigh. Me and Jarod were under the impression that Kaleigh would go home tonight for general inactivity (also Mario because he's inactive as piss + a greenhouse kid did probably finally need to go tonight) Where did this Jennet vote come from? Who voted for Jennet? Why are they suddenly a target? I dunno man I couldn't fight it much because I was out with my friend while we were deciding who to vote for but I'm squicked out on every level right now. Clearly people weren't telling the truth to me on top of everything else.... that's not how you win my trust. My god, am I about to goat for Jarod? I think Mario/Jennet are going home but not happy about this all around.

#cowsecondchance #episodes

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