#the aesthetic choice of forgetting they are covered in blood

[poet-to-none]

"I open his mouth in the soft expanding of mine. His tongue lifts over my tongue as outgoing and ingoing tides against the other glide, serene and unhurried." -Then Shall Change Red Magnus and Lestat | The Vampire Chronicles | Graphite | December 2024 See on Ao3! See on Pillowfort! See on Bluesky!

[4rk4n4]

Disability has been discussed heavily in Arcane as it is a reoccurring theme within the show, but I do think people forget that Silco is disabled and/or they have difficulty describing his disability despite it being very obvious. So, I feel like talking about this a little bit more here.

I don’t have the same disability as him, so feel free to correct me on vocabulary but from my understanding facial differences refer to a broad category that includes facial disfigurements which can be acquired through injury to the face. I do have experience with nerve damage, though, which I will talk about a little bit below.

Facial difference and disfigurement is considered a disability. I know you’re probably used to seeing villains with facial disfigurements. However, it is common for facial disfigurements to be associated with villains because real people with facial disfigurements are often ostracized from society.

It is difficult for them to find work, housing, relationships, etc. because of how we as a society position people with facial differences and disfigurements. On a social level, this disables them from participating fully in society. On a physical level, a person with a facial difference or disfigurement may not be able to utilize all physical senses though this varies greatly from person to person. As a whole, though, people with facial differences and disfigurements are socially and physically disabled.

The fact that villains represent the majority of on-screen representation for facial disfigurements is a problem. Any media could intentionally or unintentionally push those negative associations onto people with that disability. I think it’s fair to believe the same issue arises with Silco.

However, I do think Silco is a special case in that his facial disfigurement is not just a lazy trope, but one that is given a narrative explanation, though it’s still possible for the audience to consciously or subconsciously associate his facial disfigurement with his villainy. It’s in part why I appreciate that he still has a facial disfigurement in the alternate timeline, because Silco is clearly not a villain in that timeline.

Still, I don’t think it’s a coincidence that young Silco, who did not have a facial disfigurement, garnered more sympathy from the Arcane fandom when he was introduced on screen. People began to humanize him more. From my understanding, the fan content jumped in quantity. People began to associate his facial disfigurement less with his villainy and more with his trauma. This is the social impact on disability I’m talking about.

There’s also in-universe evidence that Silco struggles socially because of his facial disfigurement. Silco tries to cover up his scars with makeup. For people with facial disfigurements, makeup is not just an aesthetic choice. It could make a difference in how they are perceived or treated. Few people have seen Silco without makeup. This is not just vanity on his part. Some have fairly pointed out this might help with his trauma, but it may also be necessary for him socially.

As for the physical aspect of disability, we know the river water poisoned his blood, damaged his nerves, and infected his wounded eye. He says so. He does not cover up his eye with a patch nor remove his eye which suggests he may still be able to use it, but he may have limited vision in that eye. He is dependent on a dangerous drug to treat his condition. Medical dependency on a drug to survive and thrive is a sign of disability.

The infection and nerve damage also impacts his senses. Nerve damage limits movement in his face. It’s debatable how much he can feel on the scarred part of his face. It’s also pure speculation, but it’s possible that without medical treatments the infection could spread and damage nerves throughout his body. That’s why his dependency on Shimmer can’t be divorced from his disability.

We don’t know for certain what his experience with chronic pain is like, but I know what nerve pain can feel like and it can feel like your nerves are burning, freezing, or like “tv static.” We know that the injections don’t necessarily feel good, but he still does them which suggests the consequences of not doing them could be more painful. Chronic pain is a sign of disability.

Silco is not an open book in addition to being The Villain, though, so I think the audience struggles to understand what he is thinking or feeling and that extends to whether or not they view him as disabled. It’s just really interesting that he has a very obvious disability that people often don’t recognize at all. This doesn’t even get into the PTSD he likely suffers from, but that could be disabling too.

[glasskey]

Nick & June's Mixtape Vol. 4

All hail Noirvember. Of course it’s only right that we celebrate it’s passing for the year, with a Mixtape from the first half of Season 4. It brought us a classic noir style entrance, a fight for survival and an unforgettable farewell.

I'm Trying to Keep You Alive

This is easily one of my aesthetically favourite scenes from the Handmaid’s Tale. It’s dripping with classic noir shots and character poses, and features the sniper circle that comes full circle at the end of season 4, with the handmaid’s torch beams as they enthusiastically slaughter Fred. It’s easy to forget that this is the first time June’s seen Nick in almost a year, and that the last time she saw him was when she first learnt about his role in the Sons of Jacob. The guard’s death is a clear statement; Nick is no longer the cocky boyish driver she once knew, he is now dangerous and powerful, commanding a team of snipers with a mere swipe of his fingers. “I’m not leaving you” the guard says immediately before he is cut down by a bullet, his words are a premonition of Nick and June’s separation throughout seasons 4 and 5. The shot itself, followed by blood splatter on June's face is eerily reflective of Putnam's execution by Nick in Season 5. This accompanied by the sniper circle are a premonition of the murder they will commit collectively against Gilead in season 4 and 5.

June lies on the ground, covered in blood, eyes darting around into the pitch dark. Nick appears, a faceless figure accompanied by a death squad, demanding the location of the Handmaids. There’s an aura of dread, and then suddenly Blaine steps into the light, kneels down and briefly brushes her shoulder with his fist. “I’m trying to keep you alive” he whispers, it’s a warning and also a secret reassurance that, as always, he’s there to hold the Gilead wolves at bay.

A tear rolls down her face, he’d lied to her or at least not told her the truth about the Sons of Jacob, can she trust him? Then as he whispers to her and their eyes meet, she understands why HE of all people is there. His words to her are a call back to season 2 at the Boston Globe when Blaine proclaimed "I'm trying to keep you alive, you and our baby". Here in the darkness their secret bond still exists, she slides her hand away from the gun.

As she rises to her feet and looks in his eyes, a blinding light floods them both as snipers swarm. They’re surrounded, and yet to one another they are the only two people that exist in that moment. It’s been an eternity but the man she loves is there, changed but always there.

The dark aura suggests he could have become just another part of Gilead’s killing machine, but as this confirmation of secret devotion and trademark illumination in one another’s presence tells us, his loyalties remain squarely with Osborn.

The Strength of His Might

The looming brutalist grey building Osborn is carted into here, in the back of the van tells us in no uncertain terms that yes folks, it’s torture time. The doors open, it’s a barren concrete hallway and there’s no escape. But there IS Nick, and as he steps up he tenderly removes the restraint from around her neck, caressing it, a sign that he will save her neck from the figurative noose.

He fucked up, he can tell she knows who is now, what he’s done and he’s going to have to promise, to SWEAR he’s on her side. He kneels down as a pledge of his fealty to her that mirrors the moment at the end of season 1 when she revealed her pregnancy. She remains gagged, it’s a sign that she’s resolved to keep her mouth shut and without his help, she WILL die. While Nick has paid her the courtesy here of asking her to “Please let me help you”, the reality is he’s not going to give her the choice. He’ll help her whether she likes it or not. Nick knows that while he may have a bit of pull, he only gets one vote on a board of many Commanders, and they WILL kill her if she does not give up the goods; regardless of the fact that scarcity has suddenly increased her value as a handmaid.

As Aunt Lydia appears in the background proclaiming to be Osborn’s “Guardian Angel”, Blaine unleashes one of his trademark bible quotes from the passage The Armor of God. As usual Blaine’s giving us double the value at half the price here, with a veiled message for Osborn about personal strength and faith as protection against evil forces, all the while appearing to pledge allegiance to Gilead. No sooner had he turfed June from the van into Aunt Lydia’s clutches, than he was busy twisting Lawrence’s arm to get her out of them.

He’s not to be denied either, Lawrence owes him a favor and it’s time to cough up. There’s some subtle back and forth over firelight and whiskey here but the long and short of it is that Lawrence’s position is still precarious and Blaine won’t hesitate to rip out the rug if he doesn’t comply. Lawrence recognizes this desperate longing in the young commander, he loved and lost Eleanor, and he’s acutely aware of just how bad June can be for the health of the men in her life. But as we all know, Nick doesn’t give a fuck about his own neck and sure enough Lawrence does as he’s bid.

While Nick may have gotten what he wanted, he’s also revealed to Lawrence that Osborn is his ultimate Achilles Heel. There is nothing he won’t do, no arm he won’t twist and as we later learn, no commander he won’t kill for her. Lawrence is constantly making mental notes for his future 3D chess games and while Nick may have won the day, he definitely lost the war. Lawrence proceeds to spend the next 2 seasons using Nick to his advantage with Osborn as his lure.

She Loves You. I Love You.

At the end of Episode 3 June is transported from the brutalist realm of Gilead torture central to a picturesque pastoral setting. Sure, she’s unceremoniously shoved from the van by The Eyes but never mind, because guess who’s stopped by? Nick is waiting in the middle of a large ageing wooden bridge, its arched beams are reminiscent of the interior of an ancient church. June walks in slow steps like a bride down an aisle as Nick stands like a groom waiting for her.

Notably in this scene Nick is standing almost to the other side of the bridge, metaphorically he still hasn’t quite switched sides yet but he’s well on his way. For a moment the darkness of Gilead is gone, the menacing sound of barking dogs has been replaced with the sound of birds and a gentle stream, an aura of eternal romanticism permeating the air. It’s a gorgeous illustration of the escapism and solace these two find in one another.

Ah if only life for Nick and June were that simple, unfortunately the reality is that June’s hands are still bound, her “wedding dress” is a Handmaids uniform and Nick is still dressed in his dapper commander garb…..these two aren’t getting married, once again they’re saying goodbye. As Nick assures her that both himself and her daughter, love her, she spies the red handmaid van inching stealthily down the drive behind his back. It’s a reminder that every moment of comfort these two have ever known, has been invaded by the spectre of Gilead.

There’s a sense of true desperation in the way they touch foreheads here, their minds clinging to one another, perhaps for the last time. As she rips herself away, June suddenly has her “fuck it” moment. If this is the last time they see one another, and it well might be, she’ll let him go on her own terms. Aunt Lydia can wait in the van and cattle prod be damned.

As the music swells and the camera spins we get a glimpse into the dizzying heights of their romance. It’s intentionally intoxicating and indulgent and true to nature, heartbreakingly fleeting.

I’ll be back with more Hitlists, Playlists and Mixtapes soon. Until then you can find the others on my page.

[totaleclipse573]

Designs for my Boom!Brothers AU!

Some choices I made for the character designs were not just aesthetic ones. For example, that belt Shadow wears has two pockets on the sides (they’re just covered by his arms here, totally didn’t just forget to draw them,) so he can stash small things inside them. For Eclipse, those glowing markings are part of the Black Arms, he has them because he is full blooded. And the bandages for him aren’t just for style, he’s pretty clumsy XD

[delicrieux]

corpse husband... 👀 could I get a soft pastel aesthetic reader playing among us with the group and being absolutely terrible at it. maybe like she sees him kill someone and doesn’t say anything or report it and he follows her around to sorta protect her from the other imposter? at the end she asks why he didn’t kill her and he says it’d be too easy but ofc someone’s gonna make jokes and be like “no you’re just a simp” idk i think that’d be funny? you dont have to tho- no worries

⤹⋆⸙͎۪۫｡author’s note: we love pastels and corpse in this house. we love the “i’m helping cuz u cute” trope. we love the public simping. gotta stan this request

masterlist.⁀➷｡˚⸙͎۪۫⋆ ༄

There is a long list of things you’re terrible at, and Among Us is at the very top. But besides your lack of prowess at the game, it is perhaps luck you should curse, for what you have just witnessed will send you into the afterlife: Corpse’s little black astronaut murdering Rae in cold blood. You still by your keyboard; out of the corner of your eye, you see he chat going nuts. The stream just got ten times more interesting.

For a long few seconds neither of you move. You’re not exactly surprised Corpse is the Impostor, it’s just that you desperately did not want to get in his way - you’re bad enough at this game as it is, and trying outmaneuver the master at this game of chess? Impossible. 

Shrugging, you glance at your camera, “I ain’t see nothing.” Before, in-game, you promptly turn on your heel and glide to the other side of the map. Corpse follows. You start sweating, “Noooo, I swear I’m not gonna snitch, please spare me, sir. I swear on my” You idly tap your cat headphones with your hand, “-only prized possession. And my plushie collection.” He’s still trailing after you, even when you hop into Navigation. Turning to the chat, you ask, “Guys, how do I telepathically convey to Corpse that I’m not going turn him in? No one tell him, though, that’s cheating.”

“girl, start manifesting” one comment reads.

“Oh, manifesting, okay. Saw that on TikTok. I also heard it’s like a big thing in LA.” 

You’d imagine that if somehow you were actually transported to the cool chamber of a dying spaceship, cornered by a black figure with devil horns blocking your exit, you would probably start crying. But you’re safe in your little stream room, decorated in fairy-lights and soft colours and even softer blankets. That initial primal fear of having nowhere left to run lingers, though, and you gulp.

A meeting is called and you breathe out a heavy sigh of relief before unmuting your mic, the first to chime, “What happen--No! Rae! Who killed Rae, fess up now!”

“Well, maybe you killed Rae!” Sean exclaims, and even if you can’t see him, you instinctively know he’s pointing a finger at you. 

“It wasn’t (Name).” Corpse says smoothly, “We’re together.” He backtracks quickly, laughing anxiously, “Uh--In game, I mean.”

The conversation rages on, though you’re forgotten, which is a small reprieve. Corpse is quick to frame someone else and everyone agrees to vote. Momentarily you can’t believe you’re betraying your fellow crewmates and wonder why you’re doing it exactly. To make an entertaining stream? That’s definitely part of it. Charlie is flung into lava and you know it should’ve been Corpse but you’re having a bit too much fun to care.

“nooooo!!!! they corrupted her!!!! our sweet baby is on the villain arc!!! RIP”

You hope not mentioning what you had seen transpire minutes prior will dissuade him from killing you - he still could, but he’s just standing by the door, watching your movements. You decide you will only figure it out once your back is turned to him, whilst doing your tasks. Apprehensively, you get to it and--

Nothing happens.

Once you’re finished, you run circles around him. He joins in soon. The olive branch had been accepted. You grin. Rush out of Nav and he, once again, follows after you. 

The game continues like this, you doing tasks and he hoovering by your side like some little guardian devil. You almost forget that he’s the Impostor until he murders Sean right in front of you. You slap your hand over your mouth. Did Stockholm Syndrome kick in already? He self reports and his first words are, “(Name) and I found a body in Weapons.”

You aren’t sure how much your betrayal aided the Impostor victory, but you were the only survivor left between two serial-killers. Your chat spams celebration emoticons and fake-deep monologues about living in a society. While you were an unofficial Impostor, your audience single-handedly decides you were the best one.

It’s all laughter and apologies from your part to your slighted teammates, though even they have to admit it was a good game. Everyone agrees to play another round, but before it can start, you just have to know, “Hey, Corpse?”

“Yes, (Name)?”

“Why didn’t you kill me?”

“Oh,” He mutters, a small chuckle following after his words, “it would’ve been, uhh, too easy, I guess?”

“Lies.” Sean interrupts, “It’s because you’re a fucking SIMP!”

The discord call choruses “SIMP SIMP SIMP” in surprising harmony. You sit in your chair, giggling, smiling so brightly your cheeks start hurting.

“Guys, come on--” Corpse says, sounding like he’s smiling, like he’s got his face covered with his hands, like he’s embarrassed; he laughs - it’s a light, pretty sound, “I just wanted (Name) to have fun. And not be killed by Sykkuno.”

“Wait--” Sykkuno pipes up, “So you just...followed her around the map?”

“...Yeah.”

“Oh my God, you stupid simp!” Sean laughs, “(Name) was there when he killed me, I was so confused why she didn’t say anything because I figured she was the other Impostor, but turns out he just kidnapped her. Don’t worry, (Name), we don’t blame you for betraying the crew. You did what you had to do to survive.”

“It’s the her seeing Corpse kill me and pretending she’s blind for me.” Rae snickers.

“Wait a fucking minute,” Charlie says, “you mean to tell me, (Name), our little pastel princess fucking peach over there, saw Corpse slitting your throat and fucked right off, and then lied like a grade-a-politician during the meeting? Who killed Rae fess up my ass, you all are saying Corpse played us like a fucking fiddle but it was actually (Name) the whole time.” You hear a smile in his voice, and somehow feel a surge of pride, “(Name)--” He’s cut off by Sean trying to interject but quickly shushes him with a few choice words “Jesus fucking Christ, shut up, I’m trying to figure something out. (Name), did you or did you not use Corpse for protection?”

You’re giggling; you can’t control the sporadic giddiness mixed with light anxiousness, “I just...I just didn’t want to die!” You exclaim. More laughter.

“I rest my case, she’s a fucking wolf in sheep’s clothing, it’s always the nice one’s that stab you in the back for the fuck of it.”

“Guys,” Corpse says, “guys, guys, guys...Let’s play another round?”

“Yes”es are exchanged like trading cards. Before long, your screen lights up and you gape at the word IMPOSTOR written over you little astronaut standing right next to...Corpse.

You grin: if the last game was crazy, this one will be straight up insane.

.

hope you liked it! xx

.

[waitingforminjae]

back by unpopular demand, my thoughts on taemin's advice mv:

first of all this tumbnail slaps

i love the classical piano intro that's very iconic and mood-making of him 😌 show off ur basic piano skills king!

he's giving raven cycle/secret history/six of crows aesthetic tumblr edit circa 2015

love that for him!

this "ay you" part is stylistically lifted STRAIGHT from yunho's thank u...........shinee tvxq clones confirmed 😌

if there's one thing taemin's gonna give u it's neat complex footwork

also i still don't know how i feel abt the hair...........like yeah it's objectively terrible quality but idk it kinda works for some reason 😔

the introduction of highly saturated (?) red after the cold whiteness of the first 50 seconds is shocking (complimentary)

if there's another thing taemin's gonna give u it's intericate hand choreo

WAIT ARE HIS HANDS COVERED IN BLOOD OMG

WAIT NO IT'S DIRT

i feel like most pre-enlistment songs r like rlly sweet like "i love u u make my life better pls don't forget me while i'm at war 🥺" but advice is like "i'm a bad bitch and i'm just getting started and there's nothing u can do abt it 😏😎😌"

"ay you, looking for something to gossip about" vs jonghyun's "i’m just here and they give me something to rip apart, thanks i guess, once that wears out, just switch to a different story i guess," in hashtag

the car crash directly parallels the famous mv omg but also pyn and flame of love

we love car crash symbolism to show someone's dangerous and impulsive and unhinged

WAIT THIS IS CORRUPTED TAEMIN OMG

(referring to my post/theory abt innocence vs corruption in taemin's work and how there's two taemin's: an innocent one and a corrupted one)

him floating suspended like the door performance from the 2018 Sirius tour

the checkered outfit reminds me of that one outfit from the 2kids teasers/mv

there's actually so many callbacks lol

MOVE TANKTOP???????????

the way that scanned down and replaced current taemin w this blatant move era reference is *chef's kiss*

the white crop top tracksuit outfit is SO GOOD

actually this whole choreo in that tracksuit is so gender-blending like the hip choreo when he rolls his hips to this like weird hip isolation/thrusting move that transitions to a crotch grab like.................

if move was like elegant gender then this is messy gender

OKAY U OVERDRAMATIC CATHOLIC WHORE

also the way he started off covered in black but ends covered in white on top of the black is.........a Choice

lee taemin never disappoints tbh he's always gonna deliver smth that demands a reaction instead of like......just doing choreo in a couple rooms and walking around kadkfjddjskflglhjkl

in conclusion stan one of the greatest pop artists alive rn stan taemin <3

[thecrazyanimegirl]

Fall anime 2020

And wow, it’s the last season of 2020! May the new year be a lot better, not just anime related!

{ Winter ‘18 }  { Spring ‘18 }  { Summer ‘18 }  { Fall ‘18 }  { Winter ‘19 } { Spring ‘19 }  { Summer ‘19 }  { Fall ‘19 }  { Winter ‘20 }  { Spring ‘20 } { Summer ‘20 }

Alongside the continuations and new seasons like fire force, danmachi,  mahouka koukou no rettousei, golden kamuy and so, these are the new shows that we started:

100-man no Inochi no Ue ni Ore wa Tatteiru 

It is pretty typical isekai anime, just that it has twist and they can go back to their world every time they do a quest. I could see potential in characters and their development, but they aren’t kind of characters I would care about or watch something with meh plot for. Maybe they are building up for something cool, but for now, it was kind of boring for me.

Akudama Drive 

Overwhelmingly cool show about criminals in a dystopian future world. There is not much to say about the story without spoiling other than being so unnecessary cool that I loved it an unnatural amount! The characters, the setting, the action scenes, the animation and conversations, everything is just so aesthetic! I looked forward to it every week! Gonna miss them a lot. Just beware of a lot of violence and blood scenes (even though they are mostly censored).

By the Grace of the Gods 

A really soft isekai with a boy who tames slimes. This is that one (at least) show of the season where you can just turn off your brain, watch some cuteness and forget about everything. It comes with no strings attached, you can drop it halfway and not think twice about it, it won’t make you feel bad in any way, just happiness and rainbows, and sometimes that’s what I need.

Hypnosis Mic -Division Rap Battle- Rhyme Anima 

Women rule the world and pretty boys rap to assert dominance. That’s it, that’s the premise and if you think that ridiculous, yes, it truly is haha If you want to have a laugh, listen to some rapping (can’t say much about the quality of it, but I enjoyed it immensely, good va’s!), go watch it. The plot quality is debatable to say the least, but it’s not really an anime about the story, rather about the 12+ guys and their friendships and rivals and well... rap.

Ikebukuro West Gate Park 

Although a little bit on the improbable side to happen IRL, Ikebukuro WGP showcases multiple situations where we dive behind the back of many realistic happenings in bigger cities. There is always some company in conflict with another thinking solving it in their way is the best possible choice, not taking into consideration what happens to the little people bearing their consequences. It is of course up to the “good mafia” guys to solve it. If you are reading the Webtoon Weak Hero and are in search for some more realistic gang divisions, then feel free to give this anime a try. It has a pretty lovable and crafty MC minus the high-school setting.

Jujutsu Kaisen

Ohh my where to start xD yes, you are looking at the fan favorite anime of this season and there is no doubt about it having that title. I can go on and try to convince everyone saying it has the perfect animation, soundtrack, appearance of the characters and so on but to truly experience it, you will have to watch it. Character development is on the slower track but it is understandable since it is obvious that the series will be a “long distance runner”. What impressed me the most is the perfect balance of humor and tragedy, so if you are one to typically enjoy shonen anime, give it definitely a try through the 3 episodes rule!

Kuma Kuma Kuma Bear 

A girl got isekai’d in a game and now finds friends and people she cares about. Oh and she’s in a bear suit. This was one of those shows I watched for relaxation. There are no bad emotions coming from it and you can just relax, watch something that doesn’t need you to turn on your brain and try to be happy. If you are looking for something serious, you won’t really find it here.

Majo no Tabitabi 

A witch that travels the world, visiting many cities and meeting a lot of people, hearing their stories and moving on. Not action packed, but has things happening throughout the eps. I thought it would be another happy show, but it turned to be quite dark in some episodes. Most episodes have their separate story with minimal connection to the previous ones and some are heartwarming and some are downright grim. Overall, the plot is interesting and the MCs development and way of thinking is interesting too! 

Maoujou de Oyasumi

I KNEW this one is gonna be good when I first read the description of the manga in the bookstore 2 years ago xD What you see above is a small princess who wishes nothing more than a good sleep and a bunch of demons who decided to capture her. It becomes clear early on that she isn’t your typical prisoner as she sets out on quests to find stuff to make her rest more comfortable and NOTHING is gonna stand in her way. Your time watching this anime will be filled with heartfelt laughter and love for the all the characters. Yes, some people might be triggered by her actions and personality but I do believe since I (as a person who prefers to watch shonen) am impressed with it, a great number of people will like it.

Munou na Nana

I really love this anime. MC is an antagonist, pretty much an antihero, but she was made to believe that she is the hero. She is very smart, so anything she plots end up interesting. This show always keeps me on the end of my seat. And it’s a great combination of everyone has supernatural abilities + high school setting, but with a darker twist to it. It’s one of my favorites this season! 

Noblesse

I read the webtoon and I am fan of it, so I am really happy to see Noblesse became an anime! Characters are really awesome and plot is action packed. I’m sure you won’t regret watching it! The humor, the lore and the action is very well balanced and it’s just a good story. If you feel like you really like the anime, but something is missing and you have some time, the webtoon is amazing! Of course, they actually did the anime quite well, but some jokes or additional train of thought that goes in the characters head cannot be all transferred into the animation. Oh and - watch Noblesse: Awakening before this! That’s like the crash course of the first arc of the story.

Taiso Samurai 

A MAPPA anime about a japanese gymnast on the verge of retirement, his daughter and a ninja they adopted! That about covers it! It’s a soft and heartwarming story that really leaves a good feeling after watching it. The characters are lovable and the drama side of the story levels out with humor pretty well, without glossing over stuff too much. I can’t say much about the sports aspect since I don’t know much, but it was worth the watch even though it isn’t the most amazing action-packed anime ever. But it was a solid story, good charas and was just soft.

With a Dog AND a Cat, Every Day is Fun

One and a half minute of a lady with a cat and a dog being incredibly relatable.

Yuukoku no Moriarty

Ah yes, I’m a sucker for every possible variation of sherlock homes, so it’s no wonder how much I enjoyed this. It’s centered about Moriarty, but Sherlock has his time in the later half of the show. The animation is just so beautiful, I loved the stories and mysteries and the way they handled Moriarty as a character. Also a good mixture of mystery, people being hideous creatures, main characters being pretty af and humor. I should continue to the manga now.

Dropped: MAGATSU WAHRHEIT, The Day I Became a God   

[curious-minx]

Notable 2020 Video Game Soundtracks That Can Be Enjoyed As Standalone Experiences

Video Game Music is gaining recognition, with many soundtracks receiving vinyl pressings, orchestral concert reviews, and an increasing presence on music streaming platforms such as bandcamp and Spotify. We’re also witnessing the uprise of indie video game development teams where games are being made by the sort of passionate type of game designer that takes soundtracks seriously.  Soundtracks by small teams of developers such as Celeste, Undertale, Disco Elysium, Hollow Knight, RuneScape, and Lisa: The Joyful are titles with soundtracks that easily stand up against the likes of bigger budget productions made by reliable sources of video game music like Square-Enix and Nintendo.

2020 is no exception in terms of having one of the biggest budget soundtracks around with Final Fantasy 7 Remake, which builds upon a legacy of industry-standard-creating soundtrack work. Taken as a whole, Final Fantasy 7 Remake’s soundtrack is clocking in at over 8 and half hours of music. The soundtrack has three composers with the Beethoven of video game music, Nobuo Uematsu, most notably coming out of retirement to get the job done.  Here are some other amazing 2020 video game soundtracks more conducive for standalone background listening:

TETRIS EFFECT by HYDELIC 

Genres: EDM, Ambient Pop and straight up Ambient 

Describing this album makes me feel like I’m some sort of burnt out fanciful raver, head permanently lodged in the clouds. The level of giddy technicolor enthusiasm rivals that of Icelandic Sigur Ros frontman Jonsi, but if he wanted to keep his post-rock firmly planted in the outdoor music festival on Mars territory. Despite the album’s notable two hours runtime, each and every song feels like its own uniquely crafted composition, no repetitive motifs or nostalgia-baiting.

There is unfortunately still a Tetris movie in some sort of shaggy state of development in Hollywood right now. The movie is being billed as a dull biopic about the creator of the Tetris game. Whereas listening to Tetris Effect you imagine a Tetris movie directed by someone more fitting like the Wakowskis. Tetris Effect’s opening song “Connected (Yours Forever)” is a bonafide vocal pop song, like a more sugary CVRCHES-style cooing of the lyrics:

“I’m Yours Forever

There is No End in Sights For Us,

Nothing Can Measure the Kind of Strength Inside Our Hearts,

It’s all connected we’re all together in this life, don’t you forget it

We’re all connected in this”

Try your best not to imagine a cast of Hollywood’s most beautiful plucky orphan mutant misfit youths using the power of Tetris to heal a broken and dying planet!

Notable Track: Next Chapter

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HADES by DARREN KORB

Genres: Progressive Metal, Folktronica, Folk Metal, Dimotika, Greek Folk Music

Darren Korb has become one of the most notable video game composers of the past decade. Korb, an integral member of the Supergiant family, continues to outdo himself with each and every soundtrack. Bastion and Transistor originally found Korb creating a niche for himself with downtempo folk-infused electronic soundscapes and even some vocal pop with collaborator Ashley Barrett. Hades is an altogether different beast for Korb, who much like the developers of Hades, have found themselves at the height of their powers.

Korb also contributes vocals on this album, and I can say without hesitation that these are some of the nicest vocals I’ve ever heard from a video game music designer, because video game musicians are bonafide musicians.The album clocks in at two and half hours and separate from its game is still an absolute thrill ride.

Notable Track: In The Blood

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DEFECTIVE HOLIDAY by MECHATOK

 Genres: Ambient Trance, Balearic Beat, Progressive Electronic, Nature Recordings, Spoken Word, New Age

One glance at the album artwork is all it took for me to know that I must listen to this album. Defective Holiday is an indie walking simulator that is explicit about its intentions: a lightly interactive one hour experience. This soundtrack clocks in at only 31 minutes and it is purely the most conventional album in terms of length.

Last week in late November, Mechatok announced a collaboration with one of the leading zoomer Swedish cloud rap mavericks Bladee, the cofounder of the Drain Gang. Last month gives a pretty clear picture of what kind of circles Mechatok is floating in on. Highly online gonzo vaporwave maestro James Ferraro is another apparent influence on this soundtrack, especially regarding the way the sinister mundane dialogue is woven into the soundscape. There’s one particular track on the Defective Holiday OST, “Rescue Shot Buibo”, that is adorned with standard trap-style drum fills that give the album a shot of energy before wandering back off into the haze. This soundtrack and video game is all about the pure vibe and aesthetic nature that are currently trending in these extremely stressful times.  In a time where all of our holidays were defective from the very start, I think the casual walking simulator will remain a genre high in demand. I have a feeling we’re going to hear a lot more from this empathetic young German.

Notable Track: Valley

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Last of Us II by Gustavo Santaolalla, Mac Quayle (and Ashley Johnson)

Genres: Ambient, Cinematic Classical, Dark Ambient, Spanish Folk Music 

L

The Last Of Us is a horror game where the music itself is arguably playing a critical character role, which can only be expected billing two titans of audio visual soundtracks. Of course Academy Award winner Santaolalla knows his way around a soundtrack. Wielding a resume of astonishing versatility in various TV and film projects, he might have found his higher calling in not only video games but in the horror music canon. Last of Us is an extremely emotional series, and with the wrong soundtrack, the experience could become insufferably bleak. The occasional  splashes of color and light are what make this soundtrack so unsettling and eerie. Not since Silent Hill 2’s Akira Yamaoka has there been such an effective standalone horror video game soundtrack experience. No wonder Gustavo Santaolalla is one of the only video game composers integral enough to the game to warrant a cameo banjo-playing character model based off of him.

As if having one major composer from prestigious TV and movies wasn’t enough, Mac Quayle, composer of the whole Mr. Robot series, contrasts against Santaolalla’s acoustic contributions. The soundtrack itself is sequenced in a way that switches between the two composers. “The Cycle of Violence” composed by Quayle, a track that more than lives up to its name, is immediately followed by Santaolalla’s somber “Reclaimed Memories.” This dance between violence and heart is what the Last of Us excels at as a franchise, and that is why this soundtrack is an effective stand-alone experience.

The only disappointing part of the soundtrack is that Ashley Johnson, voice actor of Ellie’ three songs, is not included in the game’s official tracklist. Ellie’s “Take On Me” a-ha and “Future Days” Pearl Jam covers have made a little history by being the most powerful songs sung by a video game character. When Ellie sings and plays on her guitar they aren’t some little Easter egg idling moments to provide levity for this heavy revenge horror story. These songs are used to make some of the strongest character development choices made by a video game character seen in recent years. Ellie is joining a small club of singing video game characters alongside Parapa the Rapper and  maybe the cast of obscure Atlus title Rhapsody: Musical Adventure.

Notable Track: Unbroken

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Persona 5 Royal Straight Flush Edition by Shoji Meguro 

Genre: Acid Jazz, Alternative Rock, Alternative Metal, Lounge, Jazz-Funk 

This is one of those soundtracks that, much like Nobuo Uematsu’s work in Final Fantasy, is really the heart and soul of the entire Persona franchise (and his work in the adjacent Shin Megami Tensei universe is equally as noteworthy). Persona 5 Royal finds Meguro making his most complete, funky, and otherworldly opus that sounds like no one else in the biz.

You will find many people online scouring message boards, subreddits, bandcamp features, and Yahoo Answers looking for more music like Persona 5. Outside of Metal Gear Solid: Snake Eater, how many other games are packed to the brim with truly foxy songs!? Persona 5 could not predict how badly the title “Throw Away Your Mask” would age, despite the game being more than ahead of its time with the majority of NPCs wearing PPE. Be a good Joker, put on your mask and keep chasing Meguro’s acid jazz-infused dragon through many more semesters to come.

Notable Track: I Imagine

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Streets of Rage 4 by Olivier Deriviere & Various

Genres: Electro House, Nu Jazz, Synth Funk, Acid House 

Composer Olivier Deriviere is a living definition of a video game soundtrack journeyman. He has a career stretching back to the early 2000s working on notable big budget titles like the divisive 2008 Atari fifth Alone in the Dark installment and Remember Me, an unsung buried gem from the PS3/360 era Capcom title. Remember Me is where Deriviere’s electronic leanings started becoming especially prominent in his sound. On the Streets of Rage 4 soundtrack Deriviere has completely come into his own element, developing a whole new sense of campy playfulness.

Electronic French House music can be a divisive genre. For every Daft Punk commercial success there is a band that ruffles feathers like Justice. I sense a strong presence of late departed French House titan Philippe Zdar of Cassius as well. If you’d played this soundtrack for me out of context, I would have guessed an obscure voguing tape from the 80s or a really talented mysterious DJ set. Instead, this is a sequel to a classic beat em up franchise that left a portion of players disappointed by the game’s four hour playtime. The soundtrack is over an hour and fifty minutes long of high octane House music bliss. Much like the Tetris Effect soundtrack, it is truly impressive how much depth these tracks have when they could have easily been nostalgic recycled beats. Sometimes a game’s soundtrack can offer more post game enjoyment than an actual game.

Notable Track: Chill Or Don’t

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Hylics 2 by Chuck Salamone & Mason Lindroth 

Genres: Experimental Rock, Neo-Psychedelia, Hypagogic Pop, Stoner Rock, Jazz-Rock

A soundtrack that comes closest to capturing the experience of hearing the Earthbound or Katamari Damacy soundtracks for the first time. The Hylic indie RPG series is a wonderful and strange beast that is ready to frolic and show its playful side. Hylics is a part of a recent uprising of indie games being developed on the RPG Maker software. 2020 year has left us all with variations of the same stressed out adjectives: Weird. Messed Up. Surreal.

Why not listen to an album from a game that is the perfect embodiment of that surreal mantra? Step away from your computer, draw a bath, and put this album on. Thank me later!

Notable  track: Xeno Arcadia

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Ultrakill: Infinite Hyperdeath (Act I Soundtrack) by Heaven Pierce Her aka game developer Arsi “Hakita” Patala 

Genres: Drum and Bass, Industrial Metal, Ambient, Progressive Metal, Acidcore 

Nothing says “modern indie game development” more than a game built completely from the ground up by one person. Ultrakill’s developer “Hakita” is one of those kindly folkloric DIY figures that make video games such an extensive art form. The game is a painstaking gloriously bloody ode to Dooms of yesteryear but with plenty of its own fine tuned style. The perfect soundtrack for when you’re painting your personal Hell a darker shade of gore, but also would really like to kick your ass into shape if you need an adrenaline boost to your Quarantine blues.

Notable Track: Panic Betrayer 

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Risk of Rain 2 by Chris Christodoulou

Genres: Progressive Rock, Space Rock, Space Ambient,  Post-Rock

Something about the country of Greece brings the best kind of futurism out of the country’s composers. Christodoulou’s Risk of Rain 2 soundtrack is no Bladerunner knock off. This soundtrack for the colorful sci-fi indie rougelike is punchier and less nocturnal than your typical synth-heavy sci-fi soundtrack. Risk of Rain is one of the more successful Kickstarter series around and has the best quality an indie game can have: it feels like a labor of love on all fronts. There’s no reason a rougelike like Rain of Ruin or Hades needs a soundtrack this good, but Christodoulou casts a spell with his electronic-driven prog rock that makes you want to keep respawning. A huge missed opportunity if Christodoulou does not get to soundtrack an earnest sci-fi action-adventure for even big screens. Oh! This soundtrack also features some spoken word segments from Werner Herzog; what more do you need to know?

Notable Track: The Rain Formerly Known As Purple

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Warhammer 40,000: Mechanicus by Guillaume David

A big debut project from an up-and-coming composer Guillaume David. Prior to the making of this soundtrack, David was a video game voice actor who worked on a Resident Evil Devil May Cry crossover voicing the character of “Hunk.” Warhammer 40K might become a franchise that more people will care about solely based on the quality of this installment’s soundtrack. When you see the title Warhammer 40,000, what sort of sounds come to mind? If you guessed “Neo gothic cyber Gregorian chants that seamlessly melds the ancient and futuristic”, you would be correct. A turn-based action game could possibly fall into dull territory, but with a visual identity as strong as Warhammer 40K  melded with a suitable musical atmosphere, the action and world becomes irresistible. This soundtrack is a brisk 56 minutes and the other soundtrack on this list with a more conventional runtime. Not a second is wasted on this dynamic and fantastical soundtrack. Prior to hearing this soundtrack I had no intention of ever looking into playing a game based off of something as convoluted as Warhammer 40K, but now I very much want to know what these robot priests are about. That’s the magic of a quality soundtrack.

Notable track: Millenial Rage

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Honorable Mentions:

Happy Listening! 

[onedivinemisfit]

During my recovery, this has been my biggest project, no kidding. I looked but couldn’t find Obi’s witcher!AU body template so I sketched some Bruxa!yuki designs instead. <w< I’ll finalize and colour them when I’m well, or so I hope, unless I forget XD

Pls forgive any mistakes I’m not 100% yet. ^^; 

Explanations below the cut~

AnS (c) Akizuki Sorata Witcher (c) Andrzej Sapkowski TW3 models (c) CDPR Art: Me

Disclaimer: I am not a tailor and as such all my opinions are based on preference and evt pushing rules in my favour XD

The main idea with her wardrobe was to underline that whatever she’s doing, Shirayuki is feminine, and wants to present feminine, hence the skirts and ribbons and embroidery. She’s also a person fond of utility, so belts, pockets, and layers that can be added or removed as she fancied, was also an important facet to add. But she’s also bruxae, monster species, so she’s got a few blind spots, so to speak, regarding what is and isn’t proper to wear in human society. But most of all, her clothes make it easy for her to use her bruxa powers to move around swiftly, silently, and with purpose

Around half of these were referenced from the witcher 3 game, with me picking my favourite garb, and what made more sense for her in different situations. 

1. Huntress Outfit - this one I made myself, using only some of the basic wardrobe notes from tw3. I’ve a softness for overdresses/kaftans with splits, especially if they’re combined with tights/buckskins. Shirayuki is a poor bruxa living in the woods outside a small human settlement, so she doesn’t have access to a tailor other than on market day, or when peddlers arrive, hence she often has to redesign old/too-small clothing for new purposes. Another point was to reinforce her sleeves, to make it easier to brush away branches and undergrowth, and adding the Skelligan waist shawl, a gift from her half-sister, as recurring themes.

2. Winter Outfit - another I made myself, because I was dying to design something that included a sheepskin jerkin. The waist shawl helps redefine the jerkin and give it a feminine twist, and the wrapped sleeves both reduce noise and keeps her cuffs from leaking precious warmth. The wool tunic could have been a dress, but I wanted to focus on showing off her fur-tucked winter boots and knitted long socks. Shirayuki probably knitted them herself.

3. High Summer Outfit - another self-made design. Made so as to underline her non-humanness, borrowing heavily from witcher elven aesthetics, with lots of exposed skin, crossed fabric, and asymmetrical cuts. This is what she wears when the weather *won’t* allow you to dress decently or you get purged by the sun, basically. Again, since Shirayuki’s often short of fabric, a lot of refashioning going on. 

4. Commoner Outfit - A very basic woman’s dress, very presentable, very respectable, especially since Shirayuki is trying to sell the lie that she’s a normal human woman. It’s her go-to outfit for visiting human settlements, or for performing simple chores around the house, such as cooking, sewing, or spinning. Things that keep her in or around her homestead, and not gallivanting in the woods at midnight looking for prey.

5. Relaxing Outfit - merely a dusty day dress pulled over her nightgown, for those chilly nights where Shirayuki doesn’t want to undress for bed until she’s halfway under the covers. When the chores are done and all that’s left to do is sip a cup of blood, read a book beside the hearth and wait for Ryuu to return from his late night wandering, she likes to shed all those layers and relax.

6. Throw-together Outfit - referenced from the game, almost entirely (Keira Metz’ witch model) - save the shoes and headband. After the loss of her home and her more presentable clothing thanks to witcher Obi (who will later admit that yes he does in fact owe her a new dress... and blouse... and apron...) this outfit was assembled through raiding an abandoned witch’s hut. Anything that could suffice as clothing, basically, even the old curtains. Shirayuki doesn’t personally care that some of her *assets* are pretty much on display, but she would like some linen anyway, the cotton does chafe a bit. Aside from the pearl necklace, nothing she’s wearing actually belonged to her in the first place.

7. Formal Commoner Outfit - reffed from the game, (Keira Metz’ second model) the shoes being the sole exception. A dress for special occassions, perhaps May Day, Equinox celebrations, etc. Not that Shirayuki often dared participate in such events, due to the amount of people who show up even in small villages to throw tankards together and dance around bonfires. But she does pilfer the dress from the abandoned witch’s hut anyway, thinking maybe, afterall, since it’s so pretty and it had matching sleeves to go with it... keeping it wasn’t such a dumb idea. 

8. Pants Outfit - reffed from the game (juggler npc) A cross between a traveler and a city dweller, a light-weight yet very elegant outfit for strolling in the human cities. The top is presentable enough that she doesn’t look poor as a pauper, while the pants give the impression of someone on the move, a stranger. It also provides the most comfortable riding experience, the few times she does ride, as she has no need for a lady’s saddle.

9. High-Class Outfit - reffed from the game/one of my favourite tw3 modders, (New Sorceress models by Roksa) I only added the shoes and circlet. When Zen has the dress made for her, it is by FAR the most expensive thing she’s ever worn. Not a single thread of the dress isn’t well-made, the dyes are the brightest and most even-coloured, and the silk is light as a touch on her skin. While the dress itself is a demure, feminine dream, what sets the ensemble apart are the dark cat’s eye gems, just hinting at Shirayuki’s darker secrets. They’re set in gold, for obvious, unspoken reasons, as she reacts to silver much like being set on fire...

10. Evening Outfit - reffed from the game, I just changed the necklace (Ida Eméan’s Gwent card art) another very expensive dress, but surprisingly one that Shirayuki tolerates better. No stiff, itchy velvet, no heavy damask, just sheer silk with gold thread (again for reasons obvious to a bruxa) some simple sleeves, and a chain of stones, no gilded jewellry that could empty a bank vault if sold to the right people. She probably takes a fancy to this dress while attempting to woo a certain witcher, which explains the understated beauty, the most daring of cuts, one that screams “look at me, only me” and the simple-at-a-glance design. Much like Shirayuki herself.

11. Skellige Outfit - inspired by the viking-esque game design for Skellige fashion, this dress is for when Shirayuki and her family stay in the Isles, following her sister’s suggestion. A dress that signifies the matron head of a household with its pewter clasps and apron, follows Skellige fashion demanding you wear a shawl with your clan colors (Shirayuki, although clan-less, was given one by Torou) and layers. And armguards. And a split overdress. To show that this is Shirayuki’s choice wear afterall. 

[ladyhallen]

Tell My Love The Secret

Read on AO3

“I can’t believe you’re the same woman I met in the bar last night,” Reborn remarked, surprised but so delighted by it that it made her wary.

Harry rolled her eyes at the ridiculous man, hands gripping a Flame-powered gun. She checked it automatically and holstered it on her thigh. It did not escape her notice that his eyes follow her every move.

“Why?” she asked, finally looking at him properly. His fedora was the only thing in the room not dirty or stained with blood. There’s blood trickling out of his mouth and dripping down his chin that’s steadily abating and a wicked smile on that mobile mouth. “Because I drank fruity margarita’s and complained about vodka to you?”

He laughed. It’s a deep and rasping thing that sent shivers down her spine. Harry does her best to ignore it.

“Because you looked more the type to go on seduction missions than shoot-outs,” he said.

Well. Point.

Harry had been wearing a slinky little dress that had a long-ass slit on the side, an almost see through back and dangerous red heels. She had been so uncomfortable though that she had been surprised no one else noticed. For all her life choices, she blamed Fred and George. For that dress, she blamed Ginny Weasley.

Harry blushed at the memory. “I don’t usually wear dresses like that. I lost a bet.”

Reborn still looked amused.

“Anyway,” she said loudly, changing the subject so obviously that her inner Hermione cringed. “What were you doing here? This can’t have been a rescue mission?”

“Infiltration – “ he starts to say.

Harry snorted without wanting to. “Sorry. It’s just the thought of you being subtle just breaks my brain.”

He rolls his eyes. “Let me finish. My partner was caught infiltrating and had to run, so she couldn’t finish getting intel. They sent me here to finish the job instead.”

And by Merlin’s beard did he finish it.

The boss is unconscious and tied up, all the bodyguards dead and no one the wiser. She didn’t know how he had managed to not alert anyone at all, but he did and she is so impressed.

“I’m impressed. Why are you sitting on the mini-bar counter though? There are chairs right there?” she asks.

His face looks serious though his eyes twinkle with mischief. “Aesthetic,” he deadpans.

She’d expected injuries, or unstable chairs or even unstable flooring because he’d shot them. She did not expect that answer.

Harry starts laughing. It’s an unexpected and completely uncontrollable thing but she rolls with it, because by Merlin, she is forgetting what it feels like to laugh with abandon.

Reborn smiles at her, a genuine thing that tells her he appreciates the sound of it.

“You have a beautiful laugh,” he says. “I didn’t hear it clearly in the bar last night, what with the music. You should laugh more often.”

A blush starts rising up her cheeks unbidden. Harry is aware enough to know that she’s flustered. It’s embarrassing. She can’t remember the last time she is so flustered.

“You ridiculous man,” she splutters. “Stop that. We have to clean up before whatever you did wears off.”

Reborn checks his watch. “Not for another two hours. I was very thorough.” He wiggles his eyebrows.

Harry ignores him as best as she could and starts wiping surfaces for prints and residues. Flame powered guns are an amazing weapon, but the residue it leaves is unique and there are only a handful of famiglia’s in the world that uses it.

“You are though,” Reborn continues, voice a little farther into the room and closer to where the Boss’s computers are located. “Beautiful I mean. And it’s not just when you were wearing that dress. You’re beautiful like that too.”

Harry stumbles over the broken leg of a chair. The blush that never really went away comes back with a vengeance. She turns to look at him and gets an eyeful of that devastating smile. It ought to be weaponized.

“I-“ she stutters. She has not stuttered since third year. Harry wants to die, but she also wants to continue talking to him, heaven knows why. It must be that confidence that she wants to burrow into and wear like a blanket.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he says. “I still have time before I report in. Coffee?”

If that isn’t an excuse to pry who she works for, she’d eat her gun. That should be her first thought. She had to be wary. Her mouth runs away with her and says, “I like tea better, but alright. How does ten tomorrow morning sound?”

Harry bites down on her tongue, the traitorous thing.

His smile is a soft, private thing that makes the heat on her cheeks feel scorching. “Heathen. Coffee heretic. I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow.”

Reborn didn’t touch her in that entire exchange, except to shove her down to avoid a hail of bullets and a chair tossed in her direction. Before they part ways, he tucks in a stray curl of hair behind her ear, so close that she could feel the heat of him.

“Good night, stellina,” he whispers before leaving.

Harry takes in a large breathe of air and tries not to faint with the amount of blood rushing to her cheeks.

.

.

“How is Florence?” Hermione asks.

Harry feels warm at the sight of her friend, curls brilliant and eyes shining with wit. She’s the very picture of health, not the broken woman that had gone with her once she’d announced leaving England.

“It’s nice,” Harry says. “There was actually another person after the information already, so we were a bit too late. They tied up everything.”

Hermione’s smile goes down a notch, a furrow appearing in her brow. “Anyone we know? Rival famiglia?”

The word still sounds awkward in her friends mouth. Harry didn’t blame her, the language still tripped her up in the most inopportune moments.

“His name is Reborn,” Harry says and sees Hermione blanch. “I know that he usually contracts with the Vongola.”

Rapid typing happens, along with green lightning making Hermione’s hair bushier. Harry wants to cringe at the stress she’s causing her friend.

“Vongola is actually cleaning up their act since Decimo took over,” Hermione explains, still pale. “But Harry. Reborn. He’s…um. He’s the World’s Greatest Hitman.”

Harry could feel her eyebrows going up, and she should be alarmed that she has a coffee date with a man that has such a legendary title.

What does occur to her is “Hermione, how do they know?” she blurts out. “Do they have meeting and ask how many people they kill or something?”

Hermione doesn’t look so pale, not when she looks like she wants to strangle Harry. “Potter, that is not the point here.”

Harry waves a hand. “No really, how do they know?”

Green lightning sparks again, this time a bigger thing that actually turns Hermione’s hair faintly green. Harry gulps at the belated realization that Hermione really wants to strangle her.

“Sorry,” Harry apologizes. “He was very nice in the bar last night and he didn’t actually try and stop me when I went to pull what you wanted form their computers.”

A look crosses Hermione’s face, too blurry for her to decipher and not staying that long anyway.

“Nice,” Hermione deadpanned. “The World’s Greatest Hitman was nice to you. You were wearing that dress weren’t you? The one Ginny picked out when her scores in the Shoot Score Board surpassed yours in accuracy last week?”

Harry’s silence is answer enough, as is her blush, even if it likely could not be deciphered clearly on Hermione’s end.

“Harry, why are you so attracted to dangerous things? Is it the adrenaline rush?” Hermione sighs. “Never mind, don’t answer that. Try to stay away from him when you check-out of the hotel tomorrow, okay?”

The screen cut off and Harry is left alone in the darkness of the hotel room before she could tell her best friend that ‘actually, the man you want me to avoid asked me to a coffee date and I said yes’.

Harry stifled slightly hysterical laughter into her pillow.

.

.

Harry doesn’t tell anyone about the coffee date, or how it turned out.

Reborn had been so charming and his sense of humor making her laugh so hard that she’d agreed to another possible meeting without too much reluctance. She had wanted to say no, to stop what path they were stepping on. A more rational part of her had argued that they could just stay contacts, no matter how attractive he was. The rest of her wanted to see him again, because he made her laugh and feel respected.

Harry buries that coffee date under weariness and cold indifference. She does not want anyone at their small organization to notice that she feels like she could fly without a broom.

Ginny greets her at the airport with a shit eating grin and a pot of tea.

“Merlin’s blessed pants,” Harry sighs, gulping down properly made tea. No one made tea like Ginny.

“Yes, I am amazing aren’t I?” Ginny says, reaching down and grabbing Harry’s luggage. “Now, a little birdie told me that you really did wear that dress I got for you. Evidence, my dear.”

Harry had almost forgotten the mortification of wearing a dress that had a see-through back. She regrets her choice of friends so much.

“Ginny,” she groans. “Haven’t I suffered enough? I had to infiltrate misogynist assholes in that dress. I wanted to have three million showers afterwards.”

The redhead looks sympathetic but still amused. “So you did wear it. You know, all I wanted to hear was a sorry.”

Harry raises her eyes upwards in a plea for help. “Ginevra, I was drunk when I declared I could outshoot anyone in our organization. Why do you do this to me?”

Ginny laughs wickedly. “Because I love you and I want you to get laid. It’s been months since the last one, my dear. It’s not healthy to repress yourself.”

Inadvertently, Harry remembered Reborn’s parting kiss to her cheek. It had been a chaste thing but she had felt it sear her like a brand. She feels the blush rising and hopes to whatever god is watching that Ginny does not notice.

Her hopes are in vain because the redhead takes one look at her face and outright cackles. “Holy shit. How hot were they?” her eyebrows waggle and Harry gives up and covers her face with her hands.

“Come on, Harry~” Ginny singsongs. “Tell me everything!”

Regret. So much regret.

.

.

At the end of the war, Harry had felt so cold, so empty and so tired that she’d envied Voldemort. Wherever he was, however his soul was, at least he was already at rest.

It didn’t help that Ron was gone too, taken down when he’d decided to stay behind with his brothers while Harry and Hermione had gone on to the Shrieking Shack to find Nagini. Hermione had never been the same ever since.

Deciding to leave England had been the best decision she’d ever made. Telling Hermione had been a stroke of luck, an accident but a happy one given that Hermione didn’t even hesitate in agreeing to go with her.

A month in Italy, while still smarting from the war and mostly confused now that the Prophecy had been fulfilled, George and Ginny joined them, having tracked them with a hare-brained invention. (It had been an invention that was so alarmingly efficient that Harry was momentarily grateful that both of them weren’t as evil as Voldemort.)

Amidst the ruins of their lives, trying and failing to pick a destination outside of Italy and England, the four of them just….decided to put roots and never leave instead.

.

.

“I have another mission for you,” Hermione declares during breakfast.

Harry blearily blinks through the steam from her tea and tries to wake herself up faster. Having Hermione shoving folders at your face needed more brainpower than she could manage at six in the morning.

“Hmph? Mission? I just got back,” Harry clearly says with great effort.

Hermione pushes away Harry’s hash browns and scrambled eggs and plops the folder in front of her. “I just need you to go meet a contact. All you need to do is drop a package.”

Harry cradles her mug protectively in case Hermione got it in her head to take it away too. “What about Ginny?” she asks. Because the redhead, being the baby of the group, tended to be sent on relatively low-risk missions. Ginny hates it, but while Harry sympathizes, she also has immense respect for George Weasley in a temper.

“She’s meeting suppliers for George’s things in R&D. He’s improving the Flame Powered guns so that you wouldn’t have to use a cleaning charm every time you fire one,” is the prompt response.

It would save Harry so much trouble if George succeeded.

With a sigh, Harry downs her mug without wincing at the heat and stumbles to the bathroom.

“We need to have a vacation,” Harry calls out. “And you better schedule me one before I start pranking people, Granger.”

“Harriet Potter, don’t you dare!” Hermione calls back. “I know where you sleep!”

Harry pokes her head out of the bathroom door, intent on saying the last word. “I know where you sleep, that’s not much of a threat my dear.”

She closes it to Hermione’s sigh of exasperation.

.

.

The next time they meet, Harry isn’t helping Reborn take down an entire group of Mafioso or wearing a slinky dress in a bar. Instead, Harry is shelving books in a local library in Spain and eavesdropping in a conversation between two mafia groups.

It’s a fascinating conversation and she is so grateful that she’s gotten into the habit to record everything. Decoding it is going to be difficult and she’s half dreading the sleepless nights. Then, a hand clamps down on her shoulder and it takes everything in her to not flip him over her shoulder. Instead, she’d gone stiff.

“You’re putting those books in the wrong shelves,” the familiar deep voice comments. “I’m pretty sure they’re using the DD Classification.”

Harry turns to him with a scowl, trying to calm her beating heart.

“What are you doing here?” she whispers.

His smile does nothing to calm her down. He still wore the same fedora, but no suit jacket in sight, just a crisp white shirt with a yellow tie, sleeves rolled up his forearms. He was so distracting that it was unfair.

He raises an eyebrow. “That’s my question. You’re in my territory now, stellina.”

Harry drops the books on the shelf and sigh. Her cover is blown anyway. “My boss has a significant interest in how this meeting will turn out,” she says reluctantly. “Several of our clients are willing to pay gold to know.”

Reborn stops looming in her space and the significant lack of it made her want to sigh in relief. No matter how handsome, Reborn is intimidating.

“So, no assassination?” he clarifies. “Good to know.”

Harry pouts at him. “I don’t do wet work. I just infiltrate. You’re the only one who keeps noticing me.”

The look he gave in response to that told her that he remembers how they first met. Harry blushes.

“Special circumstances,” she defends herself. “I didn’t know you were already there assassinating them. I just wanted a go at their computers.”

“Ah,” he says. “Hence why you were dressed like a maid then. You are pretty good, I wouldn’t have noticed until you helped me and pulled out your gun.”

Harry had the gun as insurance. Even if she didn’t do assassinations, Hermione wanted her to be safe and magic was out of the question, hence the gun.

“You still didn’t answer my question, you know?” she whispers. His presence is distracting for a lanky man. Harry refused to lose her head around him.

“What question?” he murmurs. His dark eyes are concealed under the shadow of his fedora and what she can see from his face was blank. But his hands are steady and gentle on her shoulders.

“What you’re here for,” she clarifies. “It’s not assassination, is it?”

He smiles at her and vanished behind a few bookshelves. Harry wanted to groan. He was the most infuriating man she had ever met, and she had gone to school with Draco Malfoy.

“Infuriating,” she hisses under her breath. He’s so lucky he’s hot.

He had distracted her and Harry only has the first half of the meeting in her recorder. What calms her temper is the lily on top of her books, very clearly not there previously.

She hides her smile behind her scarf, and continues shelving books.

.

.

Harry is climbing up the building with ingenuity and sheer nerve.

Yes, she knows it’s crazy to climb up the fiftieth floor with just a rope, but the files she needs are in there and she has a parachute.

Harry still curses the day the four of them all promised to stop using magic. It had hurt at the start but they’d gotten used to it. Still, times like these when she’s climbing up a tower, she dearly missed magic.

By the thirty eighth floor, a window opens and a hand grabs her, pulling her in effortlessly.

“Are you insane?” Reborn hisses. He looks shocked and his eyes are wide.

Harry breathes for a second. Yes, she had nerve, but that was still terrifying.

“No,” she says curtly. “Well, maybe. But I need to enter the fiftieth floor and it’s too heavily guarded for me.”

He squeezes her hand. “Why are you like this?” he sighs. “I’ll help you out. So you don’t die.”

She smiles at him impishly. “I wouldn’t die, I have a parachute.”

“That doesn’t make it better!!” he says with a groan. “You better not tell anyone I’m helping you.”

With his help, they she manages to infiltrate the office without climbing outside the building for the rest of the twelve floors. Instead, she used the stairs. Like a normal person. How novel.

When they part ways, Harry thanks him with a kiss.

“Minx,” he tells her fondly.

“You love it,” she says, before leaping out of the window and pulling out her parachute.

.

.

The gig is up, however, when Harry is relaxing in their headquarters and suddenly gets a feeling of foreboding.

“Harry,” says Hermione in that voice. “Why did we receive a letter of alliance from Vongola Decimo asking specifically for your attendance?”

Harry gulped, debated on running away and found herself held in place by Ginny’s hand on her shoulders.

“Yes, Harry,” the red-head said with a wicked smile. “Tell us all about it.”

.

Fanfic.net is still on timeout until it fixes that issue where I upload a fic and people are messaging me that apparently, my fic was deleted???

[sunflowersteves]

you chose for me || s.r.

summary || steve comes back after leaving you during Civil War but he doesn’t get the satisfaction of being in your arms again.

prompt || “Don’t misunderstand me”

author’s note || Helloo~ I hope you all enjoy this hella angst! This is a prompt for @aesthetical-bucky​‘s 1K writing challenge, congrats on 1K, love! 💘

warnings || hella angsty, bittersweet ending i guess?, mentions of sex trafficking

Masterlist

The air was torrid and sharp, making sweat drip down from your temples to the tip of your jaw. Your body jostled from the bumps of the van rolling over roads. The back of the van’s cover was open slightly, making the Sambisa Forest pull in like it’s taunting you. Nigeria felt arid, the trees darkened from the night but parts of the leaves shine from the moons presence. You watched as a girl held your hand and longed for the feeling of freedom and safety. She watched the trees, eyes flickering across them like she envied their freedom of dancing across the fresh ground.

All you could do right now was watch, waiting for the perfect opportunity. Your heart constricted at the sight of these young women being trafficked. The night sky glistened among the women’s faces, tears smeared across their panicked faces. They were going to be okay, right? The three of you could handle thirty men, right?

They were getting close and closer to the borders of Maiduguri, where they planned to sell these girls for a hefty price but the van screeched to a halt. Your eyes locked with Nakia’s.

Two years ago, you told Tony that you couldn’t bear to be at the compound anymore, everything smelled, tasted, and felt like him. The only thing that was on your mind when you looked at Tony or Natasha or even Clint on house arrest was him. Your blood would boil, animosity filled your stomach, and resentment clogged the brink of your throat every time you thought of that blonde-haired asshole. You couldn’t take this burn, this sting any longer and that feeling of Steve walking out on you, on your relationship, made you break. 

The excruciating words of “I’m leaving” knowing that the statement had “and you’re not coming with me” attached to it left you with gut-wrenching grief. He didn’t even have to say it, you knew. 

You hadn’t even made the decision yet. You thought The Accords were unlawful and being stuck under corrupt governmental systems was largely not your ideal situation but you couldn’t lose Tony either. However, the more you thought about it, your intuition of corrupt governments surpassed that. You couldn’t let governments do their act on their nepotism regardless of a father figure. It wasn’t a part of your morals and even Tony knew that. He never once resented you for that. The thought of ‘maybe if you just pushed a little harder then maybe he would’ve changed his mind’ crossed your mind too many times to count. You knew that wouldn’t have worked. Before even talking, Steve had already made up his mind. 

He decided to choose for you. He took that choice right from your fingertips as nothing else mattered. The one thing that you prized above all was something that Hydra had stolen from you. You never thought that the one person you loved, trusted above all else, would be the one to rip it out of your hands like you were a child playing with somebody else's toys.

Everything reminded you of the freedom that was taken away from you. You became unmotivated. Tony and Rhodey expressed their concern when you didn’t even care to go to the infirmary after a mission. You continued to show disinterest in the world, trudging along like you were an expressionless robot with pain that surrounded your heart. It had consumed you.

And that’s when you met Nakia. 

A Wakandan woman that created a program of trained personnel that helped victims of sex trafficking. Rhodey and Tony pulled you into a room where Nakia sat patiently before the desk. The two of them told you that you need a different kind of work, something that makes you feel like you’re making a difference, given a purpose. Then, you can come back to the compound if that fits what you want in life.

When she told you of her program, you immediately agreed. After bidding your goodbyes, the next day you were on a plane to France. You, Nakia, and others that were involved in the program like King T’Challa traveled all over the world, capturing those who would enslave others and throwing them in jail or sometimes you had to... you know. 

Everybody in the back jolts at the van screeching to a halt. You and Nakia lock eyes and swiftly grab two daggers while she takes out a bigger, longer knife like a machete. The man that was the head of the group opens the doors of the van and stares. “Don’t you move.” He started to get the other men but Nakia quickly threw her knife in the guy’s shoulder making him fall to the ground. She jumped out of the van surveying the area and saw T’challa handling the situation while you carefully assisted the women out of the van.

You gasp, ears throbbing at the sound of machine guns firing at you. Nakia quickly opens the van door, shrapnel flicking across the graveled ground. Your body had flung itself towards the women. You couldn’t even hear yourself breathe, the eerie ring of the machines took over your ears.

You can see them scream—their mouth agape and eyes wide but it was as if nothing came out. You brace yourself, grabbing a hold of your daggers and flipping around so you’re now facing the busted door. As the men pause to reload you run out behind the cover, stabbing one man in the chest and another in the side of his torso. You see T’Challa fling one of the men's bodies into a tree.

As you rip the knife out of their bodies, they both fall to the ground with screams and moans. Before the other men could act, you quickly lodged one dagger in the neck and kicked the other one that was attempting to apprehend you. Blood splashed across your face and you twirled around a bit, keeping a grip on that man and threw your other knife at one that was charging right at you. 

He falls to the ground and you bring your attention back to the one that you still have a grip on. He stares at you wide-eyed and before he could open his mouth you immediately punch him in the face, knocking him out.

One was left, standing there shaking. T’Challa lifted up his claws but you quickly yelled at him to stop. “He’s just a kid. He was kidnapped too.” He nodded and put his hand down. You and Nakia tell the boy and the group of women to get in the van and you’ll take them to the town where there’s a facility that will help them.

You all quickly get back in the van and drive to the city, Nakia and T’Challa fighting about what songs to play on your way to the city. Your phone vibrated and you quickly answered, trying to get the two to be quiet. “Hello?” “We need you, kid.”

--

You arrived back at the compound, Nakia and T’Challa walking next to you through the corridors. The three of you had no time to clean or change either, Tony's voice sounded too urgent. You knew this was clearly important but you weren’t ready. Two years hasn’t been long enough, you don’t think you can bear to see the person you’ve been trying to get out of your head for so long. And you knew he would be there, you didn’t miss the hint in Tony’s voice that gave it away. ‘We’ need you.

You all work into the briefing room, you didn’t miss Steve out of the corner of your eye with a dark tactical suit encased upon his body. You wanted to look at him, the burning desire so fresh that you felt your eyes trail in that direction but you couldn’t let yourself. You wouldn’t. You keep your eyes trained on Nakia’s and see she’s talking to two friends that you haven’t seen in a bit. “Okoye! Shuri!” The three of you embrace and catch up for the remaining time until Tony tells everyone

You sat down next to Thor and he greeted you with a smile. “Like the new look.” You saw Steve’s head snap up at the sound of your soft silky voice. Now he’s got a good look at you, the whole team did. Your face was packed with mud and streaks of dried blood went from your hairline to the tip of your nose.

“Y/n.” Sam’s voice was layered with concern. “Don’t worry, Wilson. Not my blood.” A light smile covered his face and Thor chuckled beside you. You could feel Steve stare still, and you locked eyes for only a second. You had to quickly look away in fear of melting but you didn’t miss the changes. He looked rougher, pain was etched across his eyes. There were more wrinkles that creased on his forehead and not to mention the beard that was now on his face.

“I’ve called everyone here today of a new threat. A big purple Titan named Thanos has threatened to wipe out half of everyone, ever. I’ve gathered everyone I somewhat knew to defeat him.”

--

For a while, everybody had given up as much information as they could about Thanos. Gamora and Nebula had a lot, being his ex-children. You all had come up with a plan to defeat him when he comes to Earth, which seemed to be very soon. After the meeting, then you would all prepare. 

Steve’s fists were embraced with each other and he stared hard at Tony. “Are we just going to forget everything that’s happened, including The Accords?” There was a silence that fell, Tony’s eyes flickered from yours to then Bucky’s. He was about to say something but then he saw the look on your face and softened, this was your battle with Steve and not his. 

You sighed, “Look, Steve, we’re going to need everyone. This has surpassed sides and governments.” Bitterness flicked across his tongue, “You’re just going to forget the legal binding documents? You chose your side, didn’t you?” You scoff, arms folding over. Tony sat up, anger taking over his face honestly ready to fight Steve right here, right now. You didn’t deserve this. You had chosen Steve and he threw you out like you were a piece of used trash. Tony was not about to let him talk to you that way, he was defending your honor.

“Don’t misunderstand me.” Steve furrowed his eyebrows as he watched angry breaths leave your chest. “You didn’t let me choose, Steve. Did you ever once, once, ask me about the accords? About how I felt about you trying to find Bucky?” Steve froze, birds could perch on his shoulders he was standing so still. He couldn’t believe it, he never actually asked you what you thought. He just assumed, he let his own insecurities cloud his judgment.

“I had chosen you. You should know that I would never sign documents that are easily corruptible. I was ready to drop everything to help you but you took that freedom away from me, from our relationship.” You drop the file that you had in your hands and fully turn to Steve, shock evident on his face. “So, you don’t get to ridicule me for ‘choosing a side.’” 

“Y/n-” You pushed your chair back making it screech across the tile and you made your way out. You could hear Tony calling your name but you couldn’t be in that room any longer. It was suffocating you and Steve trying to say that this was your fault made you enraged.

How dare he?

You make your way to your old room and slam it, the sound vibrating through the halls. What the actual fuck was he thinking? You understood that things would be awkward but scowling at you about choosing a side when you didn’t even get to choose one? That’s fucked up on so many levels. 

You sat on your bed, putting your hands in your head when you heard a light knock on the door. You sigh, getting up and opening it. “Look, Tony, I don’t-” Your body seizes as Steve stands before the door, solemnly looking at you. You open your mouth to speak but he immediately cuts you off, hoping that his presence didn’t give you the wrong idea.

“I’m sorry. Not just about earlier but about everything. Please, I’m not here to judge.” You press your hand harder on the edge of the door. You could just shut the door in his face, hoping a bit hits his nose or you could not run away from your problems and get closure. You sigh and open the door slightly and then walk into your bedroom, Steve not far behind.

You sit on your bed and he sits on your desk chair, eyes flickering around the room. “Hasn’t changed a bit.” Your press your fingers “Look, it’s really difficult to have you in here right now so could you just start talking?”

He nods, straightening up a bit to get a better look at you. “I know sorry won’t cut it, whatsoever but I do want you to hear it. I am so sorry, y/n. I took away your right of a choice and then shoved it in your face during the fight at the airport and that meeting. I thought that you would just choose Tony and when you were contemplating the accords my mind convinced itself that you already chose and you wouldn’t want to be with me. I convinced myself that if you chose me, you would regret it and become so unhappy. It was my own insecurities that clouded my judgment and I’m so sorry” Tears were rolling freely down his face now and he occasionally sniffled. “I know that there was no excuse, regardless. I never contacted you because I didn’t think I deserved it but I now know that it hurt you even more… I just want to say that if you could give me another chance, I will spend the rest of our lives trying to make up for what I did on your terms. Whatever it is, I’m there. But if you don’t want to see me ever again, I’ll leave and I will never bother you.”

A tear rolls down your cheek and you can see Steve lifting up his hand to wipe it but stops and puts his hand down, frowning in the process. “Steve…” “I’ll let you take time to decide. Tell me after our fight.” A sad smile spreads across his face while you nod and watch him walk out of the room, softly closing the door behind him.

You didn’t really know what to do, your mind was too jumbled. On one hand, you just wanted to jump back into his arms again in case this was the last time you’d ever do that but at the same time, he left you for two years thinking that he hated you and didn’t want you because of the Accords.

Should you honestly forgive him?

[dontshootmespence]

Salvation

Summary: Don’t make the mistake of underestimating Sam Winchester.

Pairing/Characters: Sam x Reader, Dean

Word Count: 1,401

Warnings: Hard angst at the beginning. Torture. Some gore, a little more descriptive than I normally get. Smut throughout, but not graphic.  

A/N: This was inspired by the above aesthetic made by @idabbleincrazy​​, which was submitted to @cabin-fever-bang. It also works really well with a quote for @spnquotebingo which is “And yet to every bad, there’s a worse.”

Beta’d by: The always wonderful @stusbunker​. Thank you, my dear!

Tagging: @impala-dreamer​ and @covered-byroses​ I’m proud of this one, so screw it. 

Under crumbling resolve, he leans into her. His body shaking with the overwhelming weight of past choices, past experiences, past failures. When he pulls away, she caresses his cheek, her concern genuine, resolve grounded. One shake of her head and he knows; there is no need for pretenses here.

As a tear falls down his cheek, she takes his trembling lips in a searing kiss, pushing the shirt he wears down his broad shoulders and onto the floor. Her touch sets fire to his soul - a fire more powerful than anything he’d ever experienced, one that burns away the pieces of himself he wishes to forget.

                                                           -----

“We’ll find her,” Dean says, his tone uncertain despite his best efforts. “Do you want me to handle this?”

Sam knows what it means for Dean to tap into his darkest side, the way he’d been forced to in hell, and Sam won’t ask him to do it again. “No.” Without another word, Sam walks into the next room, eyes spitting daggers at the demon before him. “My responsibility.”

When it catches sight of him, it sneers. “Little Sammy Winchester,” it sing-songs. The gravel in its voice crawls up Sam’s spine. “You’re going to torture me? You’d have better luck with Dean at the other end of that knife.”

It is something he’s questioning with each movement - whether he has the ability to get this done. To save the woman he loves by any means necessary. “You underestimate me,” he says confidently, making a display of sharpening the instruments he’d left in the demon’s line of sight.

His blood pounds in his ears, drowning out the sound of the demon’s sneering laughter. “I shared a cage with Lucifer and lived to tell the tale,” he whispers. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the demon flinch. Or at least he thinks he does.

With the bravado only a man on the edge can conjure, he stands up and grabs one of the largest and sharpest knives at his disposal. It’s not the demon knife, but he wants this sickly excuse of a creature off its guard. He quickly cuts into the demon, taking a pleasure he hates himself for as it hisses in pain. Blood slowly drips from the wounds on its chest, and it takes everything in Sam not to cut it wide open and watch as it writhes.

“Where is she?” He growls through gritted teeth.

“Is that all you’ve got?” It asks, its smile easy-going, almost chipper. “If that’s it, your girlfriend is definitely gonna die before you can get to her.”

Walking back to the table, Sampicks up the demon knife and dips it in holy water. It's already shown part of its hand.

“I’m only getting started.”

                                                          -----

She takes the lead, relieving him of his clothing before pushing him down onto the tattered motel sheets. He relaxes slightly, watching in awe as she undresses, soft, supple skin clearing his troubled mind. When he goes to open his mouth, she crawls on top of him and places one leg on either side of his hips. There are no words that come close to explaining what she means to him. How she saves what soul he has left.

                                                          -----

At the sight of the knife, sharp, fierce edges that gleam in the fire’s light, the demon recoils. Sam smiles contemptuously, his hand steady around the knife’s handle. This round, he takes his time. Instead of quick practiced movements, he slowly scrapes the blade across the demon’s skin - under its fingernails, along its shins, on the soles of its feet. Each pass of hardened steel brings with it the sickening sizzle of holy water seeping into open wounds.

“You really think you can break me before she dies?” It taunts, eyes falling on the clock behind Sam’s shoulder. The demon moves its head back and forth three times before responding. “If I’m not back soon, my guys are gonna go to town on her.” The demon laughs maniacally. “I mean more than they already have.”

“How many?” Sam demands. He tries not to register the frantic beating of his heart. She only has a few hours left. “Why are you doing this?”

“Why? You’re Sam Winchester, the boy with the demon blood, who left my master to rot in a cage. I will take everything from you.” It spits on the ground in a show of force. “Do whatever you want to me. I’ve had it bad for centuries.”

Sam bites his lips so hard he tastes blood. Turning around, he picks another instrument. “And yet to every bad, there’s a worse.”

                                                          -----

As she rubs her slickness against him, Sam’s mouth drops open. All tension falls away as she slowly sinks down onto him. She presses every inch of herself to him, hard muscle against unwavering, enveloping softness. When he meets her gaze, he finds the peace he’s craved for so long.

                                                          -----

Ninety three minutes pass. Though the demon maintains its confident demeanor, Sam begins to see the chinks in the armor. But he doesn’t have much time left. Each movement, each word has to be purposeful.

Stalking around it, Sam says nothing, waiting a few minutes before dipping low to the demon’s ear. “Where is she?” He bellows so loud the windows shake. Fear tears at his throat.

When it doesn’t reply, Sam grabs the salt from the table and shoves it down its throat. It seizes under the blistering pain, growling through the weight of Sam’s hand over its mouth. Roaring, its eyes water.

“WHERE IS SHE?”

Sam uses every ounce of energy and every seizing muscle to keep his hand fixed to the demon’s mouth. In its eyes, Sam sees quickly-rising fear. What’s more frightening, a man like Dean, practiced in his violence out of necessity? Or a man like him, on the verge of losing everything and nothing left to lose?

                                                         -----

In the silence that follows, Sam holds her close, taking deep breaths, in and out. Their limbs are tangled, skin slick with sweat. When she kisses his chin, he smiles. “You’re safe with me, Sam. You never have to hide from me.”

He questions whether a man like him deserves a woman like her. “I love you.”

                                                        -----

Releasing his hand from the demon’s mouth, he watches the salt spew from its mouth. “Where?”

“Two towns over. East. Dilapidated cabin on the corner of Selby and Shadow Brook. Two guards. Just...let me go,” it says, admitting defeat.

Lip curled, he replies. “Not likely.”

In just a few swift movements, he slips the demon knife out of his back pocket and plunges it into the demon’s throat, his gaze never wavering as the demon’s life is snuffed out.

He grabs everything they’ll need into the duffel bag and storms out of the room, passing Dean without a glance. “Let’s go.”

                                                       -----

Dean doesn’t even question it when Sam takes Baby’s wheel and floors it. “Where is she?”

“Selby and Shadow Brook. Two towns over.”

“She’s gonna be okay, Sammy.”

“Don’t give me platitudes, Dean. Please. Not now.”

No more words pass between them until they pull up just short of the house where she’s supposedly being kept. “Let’s go,” Sam says, taking off without looking.

When he peers into the window, he sees her, head hung low. At first, he thinks she’s already gone, but then he sees the gentle rise and fall of her chest and feels the weight of the world ease off his shoulders.

He sneaks up behind one of the demons and grabs its throat, quickly plunging the knife into its heart. As he drops the knife to the floor, the other demon sees its fallen comrade and storms toward Dean, but it’s too slow and watches helplessly as Dean picks the knife up and stabs it in the stomach.

Sam drops to his knees in front of her and feels for her pulse. “Baby, wake up,” he says, voice breaking. “I’m here. It’s me.” She’s covered in cuts and bruises.

She shudders at first and recoils before she sees him. “Sam?”

“It’s me.”

“My hero,” she whispers.

As Dean unties her arms, Sam gathers her close. He is no hero. He’s the sum of his past choices, past experiences, past failures. “I’m so sorry,” he replies, tears streaming down his cheeks. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“This is not your fault, Sam. It never was.”

[mipplenoop]

Chapter One: Refractory

I swiped left, I swiped right. My lips echoed those satisfying plinks and plonks as points racked up and candies dropped. There was a strange sort of comfort that came from controlling supersaturated treats on an iPhone screen, as their bright light danced on the mute concrete around me.

Though I was a prisoner, the phone made me feel free. It brought me back to all those hours at home, playing the 8-bit games that were all the rage back then - especially Sweets Smash. With Aaron, with Ruby, I remembered sitting under the dining table gathered around my brother’s old console, hiding from the discipline of our parents. Even though it was called Candy Crush now, and on a screen smaller than my palm, the feeling was the same. Just like back then, staring at those lacquered sweets made my mouth water.

Oh, how I longed for a good meal. I couldn’t recall the last time I had digested something other than salty, rubbery chicken and reheated green beans. I was so starved for something different that I could’ve eaten, say, an entire spotted hyena. Yes. I imagined myself grabbing the beast by the belly while its brethren howled and laughed, sinking my teeth into its fur and biting down through its thick, black hide. Tasting that sweet, fibrous flesh of a being inferior to me. In fact, I’d have eaten the whole pack - my stomach bubbled and churned as I immersed myself in the game, trying in vain to stave off that ever present sensation. But not a moment passed that I didn’t force myself to gulp down a torrent of saliva, lest I drown in my own starvation. At this point, the mold growing out of the cracks in the wall looked tempting. What made me, of all people, deserving of such punishment? Of such pain?

Nothing, I reminded myself. I was an honest person. I worked hard at making it in this life. I was caring, curious, and funny. Loyal. There were people who loved me. And I loved them, even to the point that I would’ve given my life for them. Sure, maybe I hadn’t always been the best I could be, but I tried. I tried so hard.

Yet in the eyes of the law, I was nothing but a killer. They - the police, the prisons, the surveillance companies, “They” with a big “T” - knew my sins, and were never going to forget. A cold, computational system never forgets. Charged on two counts of first degree murder. One count of aggravated assault.

Nobody understood that I was a victim, too. In the last moments of Duy’s life, it was me or him. Letting him live would’ve been a dark, endless pit that pulled me down forever, sinking me deeper and deeper into a suffocating void of toxicity until I died. Of abuse, or stress, or insanity, I didn’t know. But I felt it in my loins. That feeling was frustrating, and it was the only thing that hurt more than the hunger. They didn’t understand that I was more than ones and zeros. That Aaron, or even Duy was more than a statistic, more than... Fuck. The gnarled remains of my cock hurt just thinking about it. A phantom pain. Tears streamed down my pudgy cheeks, falling onto those precious candies.

I swept the tears away, but no matter how hard I tried, each move felt like a setback - a step towards loss. With each combo, blocks of chocolate grew in area, threatening to envelop my remaining freedom - eating away at the space which would allow the creation of striped candies and color bombs. Those big brown balls dotted with sprinkles of rainbow, that was what I needed to win. Just six of them, in about three times as many moves. I hoped that when I saw that victory screen, with all of the points I had won, it would be almost rewarding as a real meal - maybe I would be able to forget where I was, even just for a second. Yet those brown squares were eating away at my freedom to win, or to even try to win. It was a never ending battle for territory, where each attack that did not seek to eliminate the chocolate only facilitated in growing it.

“Your phone time is over, Gambia.”

The sound echoed through my head, disrupting the swirling thoughts that I had grown so accustomed to housing. When had he entered? I hadn’t even noticed.

Loop Liu eyed me through the bars of my cell, pelvis thrust forward in a display of attempted dominance. His hands rested over a pair of bony hips, lined by a belt weighed down with all variety of police gadgets. Handcuffs, pepper spray, knives, and whistles. Two empty gun holsters. Blue fabric of his much-too-big uniform sagged over them, weighted down by a sparkling, star-shaped metal buckle that identified the man as chief - pinned over his heart like a sticker for good behavior. It made him look even more so like a child in a man’s outfit. His lanky arm reached through the bars, beckoning me to hand over the phone.

“You made your one phone call, right? Who did you contact?” he questioned in a somewhat accusatory tone.

I looked down at the phone, at my game. I hadn't made the call, but only because I was too busy crushing candies. I tried to concentrate on winning, since that was the only thing I could control now.

Still, it was interesting that he used that phrase. “One phone call.” That was just a myth from Hollywood movies, wasn’t it? Aaron had made me aware of such factoids during our time in the hospital. People treated that line as if it was written in the Constitution. But in reality, I had no rights the second they found me - a beautiful brown big boy - beaten, bloody, in a room with two bodies. This phone didn’t even belong to me, but to the lieutenant currently at the front desk. It was an aesthetic. Worse than that, it was probably monitored, tapped, just so they could incriminate me further.

The chief sighed. “Gambia. This ain’t a hotel. Say something. You gonna make me come in there?”

Only fifteen moves left, and I still needed four more color bomb swipes. It was tough, trying to get a row of candies to align in the right configuration. With the limited space imposed by the chocolates squares, it would take all of my skill to get a win.

“Don’t make this harder than it needs to be,” he taunted.

Fourteen moves now. I couldn’t stop.

“I know people like you, you don’t have anyone to call. You don’t have any family or friends, because either they got scared and ran away, or because you killed them. Am I wrong? I know I'm not. Frankly, it disgusts me that we have to do anything for murderers like you,” Loop Liu tucked his thumbs under his belt and stretched backward. “But it’s the law.”

I continued swiping. Two more moves but no closer to my goal.

He was wrong, wasn’t he? I didn’t call because I didn’t want to hurt anyone else. I had people to contact. The nurses at the hospital, family friends, my parents’ old lawyer. Right? I just didn’t want to involve them in it. And as for the people I had supposedly murdered… Duy… well, that wasn’t my choice.

“Now if you didn’t call anyone, that’s perfectly understandable. You can give me the phone and I’ll leave you be. But if you did talk to someone, and we don’t know about it, if you’re lying to me, well, that’s not good. In fact, some may say that your actions are grounds for additional obstruction of justice charges.”

Why was I still thinking those thoughts? About what happened with Duy. Why was I being stupid again? There was no way out for me. The chocolate was closing in, leaving me with only a five by five grid to build the bomb. Maybe I could use a lollipop booster? No. That would be cheap. Aaron would never have resorted to using microtransactions or cheating in Sweets Smash.

Then again, Aaron wouldn’t have killed anyone, either. Maybe I should just give Loop the phone. It wasn’t even mine, and, like I had said, it was probably compromised. It was evidence that the whole world was against me, that they would try their best to make sure I lived in a dark, cramped jail cell for the rest of my life. It was an impostor. It was a fake friend. My real phone was broken, along with Duy’s spine, when I had crushed him.

My arm began to move, raising the phone toward the chief’s hand.

But I stopped myself.

“No. I want to see Big Wang Chang’s body. Then I’ll give you your phone,” my voice cracked, after having not spoken for days.

It was a pathetic declaration. Irrational. Yet, there was something in me that wanted to grasp onto just an infinitesimal chance at hope. Even though I would never talk with Ruby or Aaron on our old farmhouse, my heart still jumped every time I swiped a candy and was reminded of their warmth. Despite the fact that I would probably never again see the light of day, I pictured myself taking Aaron’s body from the morgue, dressing it in fancy clothes, giving it a modest send off and burying it in the field out back with Ruby.

Loop laughed, as he unhooked a ring of keys from his belt. “You think you can make demands? You’ve already asked us for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and a goddamn late night snack every single day you’ve been here. You’re out of requests.”

My stomach growled. Candies beckoned me, and they tasted like my lover. If I didn’t try now, I probably would never be able to again.

“I just want to see him one last time. I won’t do anything crazy,” I spoke, now with a more confident voice.

The chief rolled his eyes. “You want to see Aaron, you mean? Your ‘brother’?”

My twin.

“Not a chance,” asserted Loop. “Quit whining and give me the phone.”

I crossed my arms stubbornly in protest. The chief stood in contemplation for a moment.

Loop Liu lifted his cap and scratched his balding head. “Look, we don’t even have the body anymore. I don’t know what the feds did with it, but it got separated from Duy’s at the hospital. Good thing, too, if you ask me. You wouldn’t want to see your own handiwork. From what I already saw in the photos, that kid's chest was messed up.”

Duy had stabbed him, yet I was being blamed. This was the brilliant system at it again. Aaron was covered in my blood when they found us, and that was all there was the story. No need to investigate further, or to learn about how he saved me from an infection that would’ve taken my life, not to mention my whole cock. My blood began to boil at the sheer thought of it, and the only thing keeping me in check was that I had just gotten another color bomb. Its electricity reached out like tendrils of Aaron’s hair all those summers ago, long before he had cut it. I only had three more to go.

“That’s a lie. If you don’t have a body, how do you even know he’s dead?” I demanded.

I knew he was dead. There was no way around it. I was just stalling, taking up time, in a big middle finger to the chief. How dare he try and tease me, to give me the hope of seeing my twin once again. Fuck the chief. I remembered what Duy had done to Aaron. All I wanted was for them to give me the truth.

“Look, Gambia, we can go over all the fun details during your official interrogation. But let’s take things one at a time. First, I need you to hand me the goddamn phone.”

But I could already recall all the details. How the paramedics first took Duy’s body and threw it on a stretcher. How it landed with a squelch, and how blood spurted from his open mouth as his head fell back. His crushed, limp body jiggled as they tried to take his pulse. No response. Then they just carted him away, into another room full of body bags.

And I was left there gasping on the ground, as Chief Liu’s underlings took photos of me and Aaron.

The chief huffed. “Remember when we talked before? You gave me your solemn oath that we could get started after you settled in. With a real interview, and a phone call to your family, and all that good stuff.”

That wasn’t a promise. It was coercion, as I was being thrown into a hospital bed still bleeding, and still drenched in Duy’s blood. I was being smothered in questions and flashing lights, swarmed by the police, while they left Aaron in that terrible room all alone. Then when all of the doctors had gone, Chief Liu bent himself over me, and pushed his knee deep into the pulp that was the remains of my penis.

“Promises to bastards like you don’t count,” I sneered.

That last statement came out overflowing with anger. I guess I needed to practice holding in my emotions after experiencing so much trauma and isolation. Whatever. That didn’t matter now. I went with it. I held the phone out in front of my face and continued playing, as if to tell the chief “Come get it.” And my game was on an upswing, too. Only two more bombs needed, with eight moves left.

Liu swung his head to the side, with an amused expression.

“Don’t talk to me like that, boy. You won’t like me when I’m angry,” he laughed.

His air of nonchalance infuriated me. It wasn’t just about what he had done to me, either. I knew Loop Liu was corrupt. A liar and a rapist. Duy had told me as much the last time we met, as we hugged with his mouth pressed to my ear. In the end, perhaps he had become so disillusioned with the world because of what Loop had done. That’s right. I had to remember that we were all victims.

“And how are you when you’re angry? What’s that like?” I asked. My voice quivered with rage.

“You just might find out. I’m specially trained to take down punks like you,” the chief snorted.

“No, Loop. I’m going to take you down. There will be a day that comes when everything you’ve done comes back to bite you in the ass.”

“Really? That’s hard to believe, because I haven’t done anything,” the chief snorted.

“Of course you have. You know it, and I know it.”

“Is that a threat?” he asked, half jokingly.

No. It was a prophecy. One that was going to come to pass very soon.

“Duy told me,” I said flat-out. “I know what you did to him. What are you going to do when I let every police officer and lawyer in the city know that?”

There was a barely perceptible change in his expression. His brows crossed just a little deeper, and his forehead became just a little more wrinkly. This was the expression of a man who was not quite angry - afraid, and just enough to lose his cool. It made me feel a little bit better.

I was going to win. I could see the path forward - four blue candies split in half by a yellow. I just had to make the right move. Clink. Plop. Candies dropped. I looked at Loop as he started to tap his feet and pace the ground outside my cell. Clearly my statement had some effect on him. He was off balance now, so maybe there was a way through. Not just in the game, either. I was talking about getting out of this cell.

“You know, Julius,” he spoke quietly.

“What?”

“Some of the boys and I made bets. Bets on how many beatings you would have to take before confessing to the two murders. What do you think I wagered?”

“I don't know. Sixty nine?”

Loop chuckled to himself. “I said only one, because despite how fat you are, you have a feeble soul. And I reckon I’m right - don’t try to prove me wrong.”

Oh. Those were fighting words.

“Are we passing on the interview, then?” I asked, barely able to contain myself.

Loop Liu stared me down. “We sure as hell are. And I’m going to substitute it for a beating right now.”

It was fitting. As kids, Aaron always got out of doing chores on the farm by sweet talking our parents. He would joke with them, talk about how little work I was doing, or fake being sick by warming his forehead with our old heated toilet. I was never as smart. I would always end up doing his work, or take his beatings, while he got to go off on adventures with Ruby, or play Sweets Smash without me.

But as a result, I was used to doing backbreaking labor every day up until I fell off the roof of that barn. And even though it had been three years, I was nearly just as strong as I was then. Under my layers of folds and flaps was a man with the strength to bend steel bars. To crush the entire police force.

To kill.

Fuck! I messed up. It was the chocolate again. I wasn’t watching it. Now I had just two moves left, with no clear path to getting that color bomb.

I clutched the phone tighter as traumatic memories caused my hands to glisten. I couldn't handle another loss. I heard crackling, but I couldn’t tell if it was Candy Crush or the device itself. Or Duy’s ribs. The way I squeezed them with such ease, until his lungs popped and his chest caved in. Those round, blue candies reminded me of Duy’s glistening, pleading eyes as I smothered the life out of them-

“Just give me the damn phone!” screeched chief of police Loop Liu.

He had unlocked the door while I was deep in thought. Of course he had, that slippery bastard. Just like he had barged into mine and Duy’s relationship, he began to enter my cell. This space that they had designated for people like me without giving it a second thought. But now I knew it intimately, like Aaron’s smooth, slender body. And I could beat him with that.

Adrenaline, anger, and power pumped through my bloated body, and in that moment I saw every detail of my surroundings: the sixty nine rusted cell bars before me, the cold, mossy concrete slabs behind me, and the faint breeze that pulsed through each of their cracks. The high hum of the security system that blocked me from the outside world. Yellow heat lamps, swinging on their tethers. There was Loop’s pale hand against the door, ready to push. The hinges to squeak and squeal at his behest. And I knew the exact trajectory of its opening. I could think of one thousand ways to stop Loop from grabbing me, but I only needed one.

“You don’t want to do that,” I warned. “You are nothing to me but just another target. I will wipe you the fuck out with precision the likes of which has never been seen before on this Earth, mark my fucking words.”

I strutted forward in a confident rage, knowing that I could take him. I no longer cared about my freedom, or Duy, or Candy Crush. I wanted revenge. If I played my cards right here, I may be able to escape and wreak even more destruction. The chief was thin and unathletic, hardly able to stand up to my thickness. The distance between his elbows was less than half that of my body. Even though I was sorely lacking nutrition, I had no doubt that I could take him.

I smacked the man across his face, knuckles digging deep into the bony recesses of his cheeks. His head snapped back and the chief fell to the floor.

I stood dominant over my prey. This spotted hyena of a man, a pathetic excuse for chief, pleaded upward at me in terror. But despite my blinding anger, I still knew in the back of my mind that he was cunning. Duy had told me that much. His pack could arrive at any moment. And so I kept an eye on bony fingers as they slid across his belt, making sure he didn’t radio for backup. Once they came to a rest, I was going to pounce. Aim for the legs, then the face. Then the groin - for Duy.

But no. Wait. the chief was reaching for something else, not on his belt. That was it. A bright red whistle tied around his neck. How had I not noticed that before?

In a single motion, Loop Liu grabbed it, put it to his mouth, and blew as hard as he could.

The shrill banshee cry made me shrink back, stumbling ass first into my cell, shielding my sensitive ears with my palms. My strength negated. Could I still salvage the situation? Nobody would have heard that whistle except for me, right? No. Before I had time to regain my surroundings, with just one glance, I knew it was over. I had no more hope of escape, save for some divine miracle. The physical barrier was just too great.

They lined Loop like a street gang: three dark, African men to each side of the chief, each outfitted in tactical gear, batons in hand, ready to wage full on war. They wore full face shields, the tinted plexiglass as dark as the skin peeking out beneath it. In contrast to the chief, they were brimming with vigor and muscle.

The men seemed to have appeared from nowhere, in a highly coordinated effort, and the beck and call of Loop. They stood with feet perfectly aligned, immaculately distanced from each other in a regular fashion, not a millimeter off. They were not only strong, but obedient. Clearly, the best of the police force.

“Come get some!” I shouted.

They charged, and my fists pounded against their vests.

They seized me. Twelve arms wrapped around my torso, beastial limbs ripping into my form as I struggled against them. With every twist, with each shove, they pressed into me harder than ever before. They were the chocolate, and I was that last color bomb, never meant to be.

As I was suffocated under their layers of Kevlar and sweat, I thought to myself that I could’ve overpowered these half dozen thugs. If only I had a little more food, if only I had won in Candy Crush, it would be a fair battle. The embarrassment brought on by my weakness, and my impotence, only galvanized my struggle even more. My muscles rippled under my corpulent body as I cried out in frustration and shame. This brought only further embarrassment, perpetuating a vicious cycle that soon brought me to tears. The phone fell from my hands, screen shattering against the unforgiving floor. I would never be able to play Candy Crush again.

“You’re not going to win, Loop Liu,” I resolved. “I’ll kill you one day, I swear!”

Loop Liu giggled like a hyena. His head rolled back and he clutched his belly, though I could barely tell through the prison of meat that surrounded me.

“Oh, Julius Gambia. You think you’re ever going to get out of here? Out of the most secure containment system humanity has seen since slavery? No. For that commotion you caused, you’re going somewhere not even your lawyers will be able to find you.”

“And where’s that?” I asked, gasping for air.

“To the depths of hell.”

[savannah-lim]

Sink Your Teeth In || Savannah & Carrington

Timing: Current Location: Teeth Parties: @savannah-lim and @carringtonblackwood Content: Just vampire shit Summary: Savannah goes exploring in dangerous places again.  

Savannah’s ex-wife had been a huge Dracula fan. She’d even taken her to Whitby on their honeymoon so they could sit on the very bench Bram Stoker had once occupied. This town reminded her of Whitby, in some ways. It was a seaside town, although in New England rather than England itself, and it had a fascinating obsession with the Macabre. Recently, Savannah had started to figure out that there was a pretty good reason for that.

She wandered through the area she'd come to learn was (affectionately?) nicknamed Freak Alley, looking for somewhere to have a drink. She was sure someone online had told her to stay out of these kinds of places, but curiosity was her best friend and biggest enemy, so she walked right in, heading into what she assumed was a goth or punk themed bar called 'Teeth'. 

People looked at her a little strangely as she walked in. Maybe she wasn’t dressed appropriately. “Sorry, I forgot my black leather jacket and velvet top hat,” she said to one particularly gawpy patron as she took a seat at the bar, then she turned to the bartender. “Hi, I’ll have a Gin and Tonic.”

Carrington was having… A Night. Whether it was getting better or worse was still up for debate. Five of his six current clients had called that afternoon to cancel their appraisal walk-throughs, Walter - the fucking ungrateful, orchid-ruining excuse for an oversized Venus fly-trap - had nearly taken his hand off when Carrington had fed the vampire watermelon his biweekly meal. And to top it all off, someone had scratched his Aston. Which would cost an arm and both legs to have fixed. So Carrington was in dire need of a distraction. 

Which ‘Teeth’ was more than happy to provide. Carrington was currently enjoying a very good buzz - thanks to a bottle or two of top-shelf fae blood - when something… unusual yet strangely familiar caught his attention. As well as the attention of every other vampire in the room. There was a human sitting at the bar. A human that wasn’t an employee, and therefore not under the owner’s protection. So it didn’t take long for the vultures to start circling. 

The woman’s scent finally registered with his intoxicated brain about the time he finished his drink. “Oh, for fuck’s sake…” Tomorrow's headline was already flashing through his mind: FBI Agent Orders Gin and Tonic in Local Bar, Gets Exsanguination Instead. Of all the fucking nights…

“Hello again,” he said, slipping up beside her and ordering another bottle of blood. “How’ve you been? And why, might I ask, are you all alone in a place like this?” 

Savannah had felt several dozen eyes on her. Eyes she had chosen to ignore. The bartender looked at her like she was crazy, but shuffled off to fulfil her order. She looked at the menu on the wall behind him. None of these seemed like normal drinks. Maybe they all just had fancy names. A shiver passed down her spine as someone brushed past her in the crowd, a sixth sense she couldn’t quite explain. But when someone took the seat next to her, Savannah was relieved to see it was someone who wasn’t a stranger.

She paid and tipped the bartender as he returned with her drink. “Carrington, hello.” Nobody was looking at him strangely in spite of him wearing regular clothes as well. Perhaps she was missing something. “I’m well, thanks.” She took a sip of her drink. “A place like this? Just because I’m not covered head to toe in tattoos with painted black fingernails, doesn’t mean I can’t find these sorts of places charming,” she teased, giving him a small grin. “But you can fix the ‘alone’ part if you want.” She cocked her head at him. “Did you just order blood? Was I supposed to use a code word or something, you know, to blend in?” 

“That’s good to hear.” He eyed her curiously. The first time they’d met, Carrington had been absolutely certain she knew shit-all about… well… anything to do with the supernatural. It was why he’d compelled her to forget what she’d seen that night. Though things could and did change quite quickly in this town. Perhaps Savannah was one of them. Either way, Carrington’s curiosity was piqued. 

He returned her grin with one of his own, one side of his mouth slowly lifting as he realized she was serious. And if one were observant enough, they might notice that Carrington sported a set of rather sharp canines behind his lopsided smile. He likely couldn’t have put them away if he’d tried, considering his current state. But oh well. In for a penny and all that. 

“Oh, I think you’ll find the charm goes much, much deeper than just the aesthetic…” Her casual invitation earned her another slow grin. “I think I can handle that.” The asked after drink came a moment later, and Carrington’s fingers paused against the bottle. He glanced at her, trying to decide how to answer in a way that wouldn’t send her running for the hills. Finally, he settled for the truth. She was here wasn’t she? “Yes.” The word was said with a slow, almost lazy candor as he lifted the bottle to his lips. “And no. But... if you wish to blend in…” There were still several sets of eyes on them as his arm slipped idly across the back of her chair. “I could show you how.

Savannah hadn’t even finished her first drink yet, but it was clear Carrington had already had a few. She decided to drink quickly in order to catch up. She had a feeling this was going to be an interesting night. “Fae Blood,” she read from the label. “Well, that’s not very nice.” Savannah waved the bartender down, much to his irritation, and ordered a second gin and tonic and a whiskey on the rocks. “Seems I have some catching up to do.” She finished her first drink almost in one long gulp, eyeing Carrington with curiosity. 

“You’re being strange,” she said, but her tone was one of interest and intrigue. She swore she could see the strange shape of his teeth beneath the dim lights. “Blending in, how?” she asked, curious to know what he’d be showing her. “I’d like to find out.” 

Carrington was well into his cups. Which explained why he didn’t bat an eye as she read the label on his bottle, other than to give her another playful smirk. “Don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it. Besides…” He leaned towards her and pointed to a tiny bit of writing on the label. “‘No Fae were harmed in the making of this willingly-donated, generously compensated, and promise-free product.’” As if that should explain everything. And maybe it did. 

“By all means.” He watched her down her drink, raising an impressed eyebrow. The sweet smell of whiskey drifted towards him, and Carrington ordered one for himself, with a shot of A-negative. “Am I?” he asked. Her continued acquiescence was slightly surprising, but Carrington didn’t mind. Not one bit. “By doing what every other human that comes into a vampire bar comes there to do…” He gave her another curious, crooked smile, eyes slightly hooded as the implications of what he was suggesting - along with his sharply pointed teeth -  made themselves unmistakably clear. “And I’d be more than happy to oblige.” His fingers drifted up her arm to ghost over the line of her neck. “Do you trust me?”

Savannah had to be dreaming. This whole thing was almost as beyond belief as everything else she’d seen in White Crest so far. The idea of a vampire bar wasn’t strange. What was strange was that he should be so brazen about it, that he should be so open, even clearly a few drinks deep. “Why would I possibly want to try that?” she asked. She wasn’t a vampire, so she could only imagine it would taste awful. “I have my own.” She downed her whiskey and lifted the second gin and tonic. This would catch up with her soon. Maybe once it did, this would feel less bizarre. 

“How forward,” she snickered, almost a little embarrassed that this situation was - dare she say it - kind of hot. A therapist would have had a field day with that. “I’m not sure I’m drunk enough yet,” she said, her breath hitching in her throat a little turning her words into something of a sigh. “But you can show me around while I get there.” She leaned into him, whispering. “And no. I don’t trust anyone. But that doesn’t mean I won’t do something foolish.”

Carrington had no reason to hide what he was. Not here. Though his track record of making good choices when partaking of fae blood - he usually avoided it for a reason - wasn’t very good. Outside these walls, however, his identity was no one’s business but his own. And a very few trusted individuals. He opened his mouth to tell Savannah that the comment had been… well, somewhat rhetorical, but his attention quickly slipped to watching the line of her throat as she downed her drinks. 

“You asked,” he grinned, letting his fingers play over the slope of her shoulder. The way her breath hitched made Carrington’s fangs ache ever so slightly, but he was more than happy to grant the request to show her around. Before he could start what would hopefully be a very short tour on the way to something far more entertaining, she was suddenly very close. Again, she managed to surprise him with her answer, and again, Carrington didn’t question it. Instead, he laughed, the sound a low, genuinely pleased hum as he turned his head to whisper, “Good girl…” into her ear. He didn’t elaborate on which of her comments he was alluding to (it was both, actually), but pulled her and onto the first leg of the grand tour. 

A good bit later, Carrington’s head lolled towards Savannah. “Are we there yet?” he asked, grinning drunkenly, fangs on full display at this point. “Or well… are you there yet? I was there… oh-” He held up two fingers for her to see. “- three drinks ago.” 

Savannah swallowed. This was bizarre in a way that somehow made sense. It would have been beyond belief if not for the fact that it was so sensible and obvious. Savannah had no scepticism left in her. Carrington wasn’t trying to hide anything. He wasn’t a stranger trying to lure her backstage. She quivered, almost embarrassed as he whispered the words in her ear. 

She decided to see where this went, no commitment one way or the other. She explored with him, danced with him, had a few more drinks with him, and gave a low laugh when he finally asked the question. “I think I’m getting there.” She swung on his arm a little as they danced, twisting herself into his arms. “Tell me something,” she said, figuring now was her best chance to get some honesty out of him. “What do you think would have happened if you hadn’t found me at the bar?” she asked. In spite of being pleasantly drunk now, her curiosity hadn’t shut off. Savannah turned back to him, hands on his shoulders. 

“Can you be gentle? Can your friends?” she used the word loosely. There were several humans in the bar. Savannah could see that now. She’d passed the human blood bags and the fang bangers that were either paid to be here or came for their own thrill and enjoyment. They seemed to be having fun, but Savannah didn’t doubt there was a seedier underbelly to all this. Accidents happened. 

Her shiver didn’t escape his notice, but Carrington simply tucked that particular tidbit away for later. After that the evening was a blur. A pleasant one, if a bit strange. But only strange because he couldn’t remember the last time he didn’t have to hide a part of himself from a human acquaintance. Whether out of fear of losing a friend, or fear for his own safety. Neither of those things had even crossed his mind this evening. Savannah was… taking it all in stride. Without any evidence of a nervous breakdown in the near future. 

So, as was the theme of the evening, Carrington didn’t question it. He simply endeavoured to take things as they came for once. Her laughter vibrated against his chest as she spun around, and he let his other hand slide around her waist, holding her against him as they danced. “Excellent…” he smiled against her ear before letting his lips drop lightly to her shoulder. He stayed there as they danced, enjoying her warmth and her scent along with his own pleasantly drunken state. “Anything…” he murmured to her query. Though when it came, the question wasn’t quite what he expected. Nonetheless, the evening had thus far thrived on honesty, and Carrington was loath to change that. 

“Perhaps nothing,” he told her quietly. “Or perhaps someone would’ve fed on you. Without your consent. Or worse.” 

Her next question didn’t have a black and white answer. She’d seen the varying degrees of human/vampire interaction around the bar. Though some things weren’t meant for public display. How could she not be curious? “In general? Yes,” he said, and meant it. “We’re all capable of being gentle. We’re not much different than humans in that sense. Some good, some bad. Most somewhere in between. ” 

Carrington dipped his head towards her shoulder again. “As for myself… I’m always gentle…” His lips - along with a barely there, feather-light hint of fangs - brushed her skin as he smiled lazily. “Unless you ask me not to be...” 

Savannah's next shudder wasn't so pleasant. Fed on. Or worse. Those certainly weren't the most desirable of outcomes. "Well, thanks for coming to my rescue," Savannah teased, her words dripping with irony. She remained close to Carrington, paying specific attention to his lack of heartbeat. His body was a little warm, perhaps from the bottles of blood he'd been drinking like light beers. If she hadn't already known already, she wouldn't have guessed he was a vampire. She'd have to get smarter about that. 

She exhaled, continuing to casually dance with him as he explained his species to her, at least in the vaguest of ways. She'd try and find out more later, she was sure, once she wasn't so very distracted by the feeling of his skin on hers and how good he smelled. "Good to know," she murmured against his jawline as he promised to be gentle. She swallowed the lump in her throat as his teeth scraped against the shell of her ear.

Fuck. She was an idiot.

"Then I guess we'd better go back to your place." 

[hamliet]

Girls Don’t Want Boys, Girls Want Monsters: Netflix’s The Witcher Review

Finally, the show we deserve. 

Men get all their superhero power fantasies of kicking villain ass. Finally there’s  a story that has that and includes women’s emotional power fantasies about falling in love with monsters who change. It doesn’t treat either as ridiculous or limited by gender, either, since Geralt falls for a monster too and women get to kick ass as well. 

Essentially, it’s a story about defeating monsters: often through integration with the shadow, sometimes involving love and connection, sometimes violence, but the violence is never glorified. It’s good. 

NB: I’m in the middle of reading the books (in the middle of Blood of Elves so far). I haven’t played the game since video games aren’t really a medium I enjoy. So I’ll make some comparisons since the show covered the two books I’ve read thus far, but please don’t put spoilers for the books below!

Let’s talk my favorite aspect of every story: characters. 

Renfri. 

Her story was somewhat sanitized from the books (it’s a lot more brutal what happened to Renfri) but well adapted. Both versions--the book and show--depict sincere empathy for our deconstructed Snow White. I loved her dialogue with Geralt, in which Geralt praises her for escaping the huntsman her stepmother hired to kill her, and she laughs and says that she didn’t. He let her go, but not before raping and robbing her. The story never directly answers if the prophecy was true or not; Geralt doesn’t believe it, but a lot of things Geralt doubts turn out to be true. Renfri was supposedly attacking animals as a child; however, the person reporting that is highly unlikely to be unbiased (Stregobor) so is this even true? Did Renfri become a killer because she was horribly abused and left with no other option? (That’s the option that I think seems most likely.) 

We can’t know. The Witcher isn’t interested in giving its audience palatable answers. It’s interested in provoking questions. The show gives more answers than do the books, again likely due to the medium, but it still lets these questions linger. 

Renfri’s story is not the first one in the books, but it is the first one the show adapts, and that’s a good decision imo. Her story embodies The Witcher’s themes and questions:

By acting the monster, we make monsters out of others. 

To defeat monsters, you must be a monster. 

What, then, can heal, especially in a world so broken?

Ciri.

Our deconstructed Rapunzel (yes, there are a lot of fairy tale references). As far as her story goes in its adaptation, the addition of Dara was well done. Sadly, no, Dara is not in the books, but his addition gave Ciri an arc beyond merely running in this story. 

That said, Ciri in the books is much younger than she is in the show. Which is okay, because Ciri is somewhat emblematic of the future: there’s a lot unknown about her powers, she needs to be protected from everyone trying to grab her and use her powers for themselves. She is Geralt’s destiny, and she is the future of the world of The Witcher. 

NB: I can’t discuss Ciri without shouting out to the casting director for casting Pavetta: how did they find an actress who looks so much like Ciri’s actress? It’s almost eerie. 

The episode where Geralt finds out about the Law of Surprise and his reaction to Pavetta’s pregnancy is perhaps the only story that I felt was better in the show than in the books (again, this isn’t inherently a quality thing but a medium preference). It added some much-needed hilarity (Geralt’s perfectly-timed “destiny can go f--” *Pavetta vomits* and all he can say is, “fuck”) and gave Geralt an arc. 

Geralt.

Mm. 

I liked how they handled his character and his struggles with what it means to be a Witcher and/or human. His struggles to understand himself are relatable, and fairly well set-up for future exploration. He’s a foil of Ciri, Yennefer, Jaskier, and Cahir so far, and I’m particularly intrigued by the monster theme and the foiling that is already set up thus with all of the above except Jaskier (who is no monster). Geralt was skeptical about saving the striga for her father, but managed to succeed, and I wonder if he will somehow be able to save himself from his own inner fears/monster by being a father. (Basically, I am curious as to how being Ciri’s de factor dad is going to challenge him.)

Jaskier.

Or, Dandelion, as he’s known in the books. The bard adds some much needed levity to the tale, and as @aspoonofsugar​ says, he’s pretty much Donkey from Shrek. But he is used fairly well within the story: he shows Geralt even before Ciri and Yennefer enter his life that he has a purpose beyond being a killing machine. In that sense he’s the foil of Renfri (Renfri accomplishes the same, but through violence) in that Geralt saves him and he clearly thinks highly of the Witcher. Jaskier is in some ways humanity in all its paradoxes and foibles, annoying and stupid, kind and clever, funny and truthful, deceptive and respectful. 

Cahir.

I’m a sucker for ravens as part of an aesthetic, as well as pretty, tormented bad boys. Yes, I know he’s a character I’m sure will arouse much handwringing and puritanical policing a la his other archetype brothers (Loki, Kylo Ren, Snape, etc). I don’t care. I do think the show made him much darker when compared to the books, but I still expect his arc to go in the same direction as the books. He’s a complicated, conflicted, complex character, and I’m not sorry for feeling empathy for him. 

But I am curious about his foiling with Geralt. Both are characters seeking Ciri to fulfill... something, and monstrous in a way (Cahir more for what he does, but there’s a humanity to him as well).

Yennefer.

Finally, my favorite, my baby murder daughter. 

Yennefer’s character was fascinating. I appreciated that she’s allowed to want deeply, her own wants, instead of attaching her wants to be whatever the male character desires. She wants to have children. She wants love. She wants to be beautiful. Her desires are traditionally feminine, and the show doesn’t put this down. And she also kicks ass and takes names, she fails, she’s allowed to be angry, to be mean often, to want to learn and to want to be the best. 

The show doesn’t punish Yennefer for her ambition. Neither do the books. She experiences consequences, both positive and negative, for her every choice. The show reveals her backstory right away, whereas the books don’t, but again that’s a medium thing. I think both do excellently in setting up Yennefer for our empathy. It doesn’t apologize for her or her wants or actions; it lets her arc and the story itself do the talking. 

Yennefer’s not here to be your cautionary tale or your role model. She’s just there to be her and to live. 

That is, to an extent, perhaps the best kind of role model. 

That doesn’t mean the show did everything in Yennefer’s story justice. I wasn’t thrilled with the adaptation of her first meeting with Geralt--the orgy in the background isn’t in the books and is a very bizarre decision given context. While, I loved Tissaia’s character and her foiling with Yennefer: they are too alike to ever get along, I really didn’t understand the point of Tissaia turning the other girls into slugs in episode 2. It was unsettling and not in the books. It was a heavy-handed metaphor not explained until episode 7 (about treating people as expendable slugs) that didn’t tell us anything we didn’t already know about how the world and Dark!Hogwarts worked. If anything it made the school seem foolishly cackling-mustache evil instead of the true current of darkness within it: manipulation and utilitarianism. As part of effort to control things, that control itself can lead to chaos. 

I think the rest of the series set this precise dilemma of a precarious balance between self-control and manipulation/utilitarianism quite well, though (it goes hand-in-hand with the theme of a “lesser evil” to quote Renfri’s story). I’m excited to see this explored more. 

Other comments:

When comparing the show to the books as I’ve read so far, I think the show made some smart changes for adapting to a visual medium. For example, Foltest and Adda’s story was adapted as a mystery: what is the monster? Who is the father? Who is the curser? Can the monster be saved? Whereas the book doesn’t do that: you know immediately that the monster is a striga, Foltest is the father, and he wants the striga saved. The answer to who cursed Adda is never clear in the written story either, whereas the show declares it was Ostrit (the book leaves it very much up in the air as to whether it was Ostrit or Adda’s mother). However, the way this particular episode weaves Adda’s story of rebirth with Yennefer’s rebirth was beautifully done. (Foltest is a good dad. We need more good dads in stories; of course, if we had more good dads, we’d have far less stories.) (I’m jesting.) 

The dialogue is at times... well it’s not like it’s The Rise of Skywalker levels of “who wrote this???” but it’s not always stellar. Actually, I’d say the quality tends to swing wildly about between clever (episode 4) and just confusing (episode 5). But in general, I think the dialogue issue is representative of the show’s largest issue: it struggles to know when to trust its audience. When should it give details? When should it trust them? When is it spoonfeeding, and when is it just confusing? It tries to walk a fine line and stumbles a bit. It succeeds, however, with the characters as I mentioned earlier with Yennefer, Geralt, and Ciri. 

My advice for the show going forward (not that they should definitely listen to me) is to forget Game of Thrones. It’s pretty obvious that this show is a passion project made by people who love The Witcher. I really hope they lean into that aspect instead of into the GoT-replacement aspect (because there are definitely aspects of that, particularly in the mood/aesthetic, tone, and gratuitous nudity--which is not exploitative or disturbing, but it also wasn’t necessary, isn’t in the books, and so felt like pandering). 

However, the sheer love for the material still really shines  through. They made me care for the characters, they interested me in the world, and they have me hooked for season 2. The showrunners’ excitement for the story and adoration of its characters is contagious, and I hope the show lets this excitement spread. 

[hooliganwesley]

Home Restoration 101

With the variety of tv shows presently on the air, a lot of us have captured the need to renovate, that inexplicable desire to gut and rebuild our houses and produce our dream house. Whether you are pondering remodeling, bring back, or refurnishing your home, in essence what you are really aiming to do is to produce the appropriate stage for your lives and the lives of our families and friends.

Altering your home can be an incredibly satisfying process that releases your inner creativity while broadening our understanding of ourselves, our families and our goals. The key to an effective renovation can be broken down into your preparation, adaptability and research.

Of course the huge question everyone asks prior to a renovation is "Will my remodelling damage my life and family?" The sincere response to this is "Yes", but typically in a terrific and unanticipated method! Remodellings or upgrading our houses enables us to grow, to find out more about ourselves and to produce the appropriate setting for our lives that we envision living within.

HOW TO APPROACH YOUR REMODELLING

Be Realistic - If you live in a bungalow and you're renovating the basement living room and you like urban loft living, 14' ceilings and downtown views - you're not going to get it. However, if you desire it to have a contemporary flair with heat, sexiness and edge, then that is totally achievable.

Have a detailed spending plan for your job - Calculate WHATEVER from the nuts and bolts to the silks and light plates. Make certain that your Designer and/or Professional understand what the financial ceiling for each task and item is and if you go over on one of them, that it means you will need to either cut down in other places or accept the increased budget.

Research the very best specialist for you - Find the best professional that fits your job, your character and shares your design vision. Make certain to meet a minimum of 3 Designers or Specialists prior to deciding.

Understand waiting times - Custom-made couches can take up to 12 to 14 weeks. Custom-made Cabinets is typically 10 to 16 weeks - some fabrics can take up to 3 months. RESEARCH your choices so there are no misconceptions.

Put a favorable spin on the procedure - The truth is that there will be bothersome ugly days with no water or no kitchen or both. If you have kids make it an enjoyable experience, established a camping tent and go outdoor camping in a location in the house so that it's fun for them and spending plan for a hotel suite for the worst period and have all the ugly bits done throughout your lack. Ensure to think creatively on how to put the very best "spin" on the bumpy rides to your family and yourself.

Do not sweat the small things - If for some reason something is delayed beyond anybody's expectations its not going to do you any good to explode and send your blood pressure through the ceiling. In the case of the "absence" product, either reselect the item or accept that it is postponed. Literally those are the only choices so make life easier on yourself (and your family) and learn to adjust your design strategy (I always recommend having a back up choice just in case to avoid losing time and cash).

Of course prior to you can begin ANY renovation, you require to discover out "who you are" and "what is your style". You can not successfully begin this process without being able to securely specify what your design is and what the objective for your remodelling is and how you live your life. Make sure to go out and see what is readily available; go to as numerous display rooms and providers as possible.

As all of us understand, the biggest, most costly and most detailed job in refurbishing your home is your kitchen. When preparing the design for your new kitchen, identify what fits your way of life; you're growing requirements and your aesthetic appeals. Constantly bear in mind as well that your kitchen is important to the resale of your home, so strategy sensibly. Plan out not simply the big ticket items, such as appliances, flooring, kitchen cabinetry and counters however the little details that really make a style great such hardware, lighting, concealed and built in storage and items that show your character and style. Think of whether you LIKE to prepare (then include a spigot over your range), do you captivate regularly (then put a trough sink in the island), do you have a large household (then open up some walls and really make it the heart of your home. The responses to these questions will assist the components and appliances you pick for your kitchen.

When outlining out the design of the kitchen do not just take the kitchen planner or designers word that the area is perfect for you and your family. Carefully analyze your plan and believe about how to finest optimize the area in your kitchen as well as make your life simpler.

When speaking of kitchen style we are truly speaking about choices, hundreds and hundreds of choices for each element of your kitchen. For instance, when choosing your counter tops you can have tile, granite (the designer favorite), marble (stunning but not kid friendly), strong surface area, stainless-steel (streamlined and modern-day), wood, concrete (ideal for an ultra modern apartment or house), glass, laminate (the most cost effective and easily offered) and many more, not to point out the hundreds of options within each product. Do not get overwhelmed by the choices, always remember what works best for your style, your lifestyle and your SPENDING PLAN

A small kitchen can be just as much a work of art as a huge family kitchen. It simply indicates you require to plan and research two times as difficult, however frequently they can be the most dramatic since you can put more cash per square foot and make higher grade choices then you would with a big barn sized kitchen.

An often forgotten but important component to great design, in your kitchen, bath or anywhere in your home is your Lighting plan. Integrate under counter lighting pucks, overhead lighting in a cove moulding, lighting in glass fronted cabinets, a stunning component over the island or table, rope lighting concealed in a recessed tray detail in the ceiling, the choices are unlimited.

POINTERS ON KITCHEN STYLES

Usage quality materials whenever possible

Identify your Cabinet heights - floor to ceiling whenever possible

To paint or to stain

Select the best countertop you can pay for

Set Up a Kitchen Island

Do not exaggerate the adornments or information

Add interest - Add your personality

AFFORDABLE KITCHEN "FAST FIXES"

Paint your kitchen - walls, ceiling, trim, cabinets

Change your backsplash

Modification all your Kitchen Hardware

Modification the Kitchen Faucet

Include Crown Mouldings and intensify millwork

Update your accessories and small appliances

The next essential location in a house restoration and nearly as complicated as a kitchen with its endless options, choices and design is your Restroom.

WHEN PLANNING YOUR RESTROOM REMEMBER

Doors should never ever hamper making use of any component

All receptacles must be GFCI

Allow a minutes. of 6" in between fixtures

Select non slip floor covering

Provide ambient, task and accent lighting

Designate locations for storage

Think about how to motivate sense of personal privacy

Our bathrooms are our individual haven to renew our spirit and our energy; they are house Spa's that act as a sanctuary after a trying day. Crucial to this is the style of your shower, now the most sought after element in a terrific bathroom design and an important information on resale. Go to a range of display rooms, the options are unlimited from steam, waterfall, multi jet and massage options. Keep in mind to pamper yourself and treat yourself in addition to you do a guest. Always pick the very best components that your spending plan will permit and really research study the best offer. I have actually seen products at showrooms for 2500 dollars for a product and after that shopped online and gotten the precise very same product for less than half! Browse, research and shop smartly and do not forget to constantly sit in your bath tub or Jacuzzi before you buy it. What is comfortable for one is not always comfy for another.

Always remember while refurbishing your kitchen, your bathroom or any other room in your home that the goal is to create the correct phase for our lives, our family and friends that finest exemplifies your spirit and reveals who you want to be and how you wish to live. Inspire yourself, difficulty yourself and ENJOY yourself and those you enjoy and do not ever hesitate of change.