#this is NOT targeted towards any specific group. reading this i’m scared people might read it as so

[lunainthemoona]

hey!! i came across this video on my tiktok recently by someone named Lila, and i asked her if she was cool for me to respost this on tumblr (they said yes) because i think they made some really great points that i would love to add on to.

while on the internet, it is SO important to learn how to distance yourself. when you’re too wrapped up in the internet its so easy to get overwhelmed by information and hate and just. negative things, but those things DO NOT define you as a person!! i wish this was taught and talked about more!! other people do NOT define who you are as a person, whether it’s something they’re saying to you or as Lila said, how they identify! you are your own person, and how you define yourself is up to YOU.

now, that doesn’t mean that there aren’t identities that are harmful. i’ve been listening to the afab transfem conversation, ive been harassed over it. transmisogyny is a serious issue in the trans community and i wish it was addressed more seriously. i will absolutely recognize the TERF’s that are using the term. the issue is, that is still an identity. so many people, especially intersex people, have explained genuine medical reasonings and other reasons for why they use this term.

this is where i once again talk about distancing yourself. i am not trying to say dont worry about these things, because discourse within the community IS important! it helps bring things to attention! but like Lila and other people i mentioned ^ have said, not only are a lot of the terms people are using medical (nobody’s business, people don’t owe you their medical information or history. you are not their family or their doctor.) but there are people who hate the entire community regardless of what they identify as. harassing other minorities is not the answer.

[teddy06writes]

To Talk To A Crush

Requested by this anon: “Dream x fem reader but make it school AU Pog? And Idk why but at least somewhere in there, can I please get sapnap with his backpack on his chest instead of his back just plowing into someone and knocking them over. Thanks!” 

{Oh my god my brain went haywire, I love this idea- the visual of of Sapnap fucking sprinting down a hallway and just jumping into a crowd of people- holy shit my guy you are on to something}

Dream x fem!reader

trigger warnings: some swearing, slight spoilers for the Great Gatsby?? other than that nothing

Premise: high school AU, a retelling of various events from meeting your friend group freshman year to now, the last time you saw your best friend before graduation

{Also the project scene was an excuse for me to relive that one time I taught myself the Charleston without realizing it}

“blep” speaking

‘blep’ singing/music

Italics = Dream’s memories/flashbacks/whatever you call that

bold = your memories/flashbacks/whatever you call that

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” 

Dream watched in horror as Sapnap went running down the hallway packed with people, his backpack still strapped across his chest and not his back, running straight toward a specific target.

George slapped his hand over his mouth to stifle a laugh as Sapnap slammed into you, knocking the books from yours arms and sending you clattering to the ground. 

Wilbur laughed openly as Eret and Bad shoved him forward, “Go help her you idiot!” 

Oh, this that could not have been worse. 

He’d mentioned wanting to talk to his crush once and then along came Sapnap, ready to do just about anything to force his best friend into talking to you. 

Taking a deep breath he made his way forward, shoving Sapnap out of the way, “Are you okay? I’m sorry, my friends an idiot.”

You smiled, letting out a giggle, and his heart melted a bit as you took his hand.

~~

“YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” 

You barley had time to look up to see someone running at you from the juncture of hallways, a backpack on his chest as he slammed into you. 

Your things spilled everywhere, and you hit the ground, Niki’s gasp sounding loudly from somewhere behind you. 

Great, this was just great. 

All you wanted was to not be bothered in the hallways, to just blend in and not be asked if your brother really was really the greatest football player the school had seen, and yeah that wasn’t how you were being bothered now, but still this was not what you meant.

You looked up to see a group of people practically pushing a cute blonde boy down the hallway, “Are you okay? I’m sorry, my friend is an idiot.” 

You glanced over at the kid who had run into you, who was beaming proudly, allowing yourself to giggle as you took his hand. 

~~

You chuckled, taking a sip of your water, “Man that day was weird.” 

The causal reminiscing hadn’t been planned, nor were either of you providing full details, but Dream made good company, even on what seemed like it could be one of the last times you ever saw your bestfriend. 

“Yeah, I think Sapnap did a good job though,” Dream glanced over at you, “If there's any random person he could knock down and then drag into our friend group I’m glad it was you- you and Niki.” 

You looked at him for a minute, “Well I think Niki got dragged in first. I was just brought along to that one party.” 

Dream groaned, “Oh god that party was so cringe. Sapnap and George kept trying to shove me and my crush into talking. And the worst part is they were actually subtle about it!” 

“I didn’t realize that was possible.” You murmured, trying not to continue on looking at him. 

~~ “If you don’t go over there and talk to her I will literally lock you two in a closet.”

The party had been strange, cramped and awkward. 

The first high school party Dream had been too; it was some party that one of Wilbur’s older friends was hosting, and they were the only group of Freshmen there. 

That what he had thought at least, until Niki arrived, with you in tow. 

George had imideaitly tried to get Dream to talk to you, but he was still hesitant. 

It wasn’t until that threat that he finally made a move, quietly moving across the crowded room, to where you were standing with Eret, Niki and Wilbur, “Hey guys.” 

He barley noticed the way Niki shot you a glance, too drown out by Eret laughing, “Did George and Sapnap kick you out of there little group over there?” 

“Something like that.” He’d chuckled nervously, heart swelling when you smiled at him reassuringly. 

~~ “It looks like he wants to talk to you- he might like you! (y/n) if you don’t go talk to him I’ll get Eret to lock you two in a closet.” 

This party wasn’t somewhere you had originally wanted to be, but Niki had insisted that you go with her. 

It was your first high school party, one that Niki had only been invited too because Wilbur had been invited by one of his older friends, Phil. 

You were wary about talking to anyone, but Eret and Niki, the only people you really knew, but then Dream had wandered over. 

You elbowed Niki at her comment, glancing over at Dream, George and Sapnap just as Dream had turned to look at you. 

The next thing you knew he was sidling up to your group, “Hey guys.” 

Niki looked at you, eyebrows raised a little and a small grin on her face.

Eret had laughed, though more about your misfortuane than the comment he made, “Did George And Sapnap kick you out of there little group over there?” 

“Something like that.” He chuckled, and you couldn’t help but smile, already feeling a bit better about the party.

~~

“Wait- did they end up getting you to talk to her?” You asked, looking over at him. 

Dream groaned, scrubbing a hand over his face, “Uh- yeah. They- they did.”

“Who was it?” You asked, starting to laugh when he shook his head, “Come on dude your my bestfriend! You legally have to tell me!” 

“No!” He protested. 

“Why not?” 

He glared at you, “I am not telling you about some girl that I had a crush on freshman year!” 

You huffed, crossing your arms and faking a pout, “Well did you ask her to a dance or something?” 

“Ehhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, sort of? I didn’t ask her, but we hung out some. It was that dance right before we got closer.” 

~~

‘oh oh! we’re halfway there! Oh living on a prayerr!’ 

Music blared through the gym, and Dream barley stifled a laugh as Sapnap kept trying to get George to dance with him, even as he screamed along to the lyrics. 

The entire friend group was clumped around the center of the gym, halfway mixed with the other people at the dance, though you were all certainly the most obnoxious people there. 

He looked over at you, dancing next to Niki near the edge of the group, looking amazing in the soft green dress you’d picked for the night. 

You looked over catching his eye and smiling. 

He grinned, and paused dancing long enough to point at his tie and then your dress, mouthing “We match”

You smiled, starting to look behind as the song change and both Sapnap and Quackity screamed, “It’s the cha cha fucking slide!!!”

~~

‘oh oh! we’re halfway there! oh living on a prayerr!’ 

The music throbbed through crowds of kids that filled the gym, seeming to make your head spin as Sapnap screamed to the lyrics, harrassing George while he was at it.

The kids you were now beginning to feel comfortable with enough to call them friends were all clumped in the center of the gym, dancing and singing along to the music loudly. 

You laughed, dancing along next to Niki, reveling in the way that your dress swished around your knees.

Niki bumped you, motioning to the side, and you turned, still smiling, to see Dream looking at you. 

He smiled back pointing to his green tie, and mouthing “we match”

Your smile grew, but your attention didn’t stay on him for long as the song changed and behind him someone, who you suspected with Quackity, screamed, “It’s the cha cha fucking slide!” 

~~

“oh- that was right before the group project right?” You asked, looking over at him. 

Dream chuckled, thankful you had dropped the crush thing, “Yeah, the group project from hell.” 

“It wasn’t hell! We killed that thing.” 

“You made me learn a dance to do when we presented it.” He said, looking at you critically. 

“And?” You grinned, “That was the literal only reason we got an A.” 

“And Karl recorded it and sent it to the group chat!” 

~~

“And the last set of partners will be Clay and (y/n)!” The teacher announced, “Everyone find your partners and get situated, I’ll be around with your topics shortly.” 

Dream sighed, grabbing his binder and pencil case before starting across the room toward you, sure he was glad to be spending extra time with you, but also the thought of having to be near you for so long scared him. 

“Hey.” 

“Hey yourself,” You smiled as he sat at the desk next to yours, “I’m glad I’m working with you and not someone I don’t know at all.” 

He nodded, “Me too.” 

Your teacher approached your desks, “And you’re decade is the 1920s, have fun!” 

Dream sighed, “I still don’t understand the point of a decade project.” 

“Well we’ve been reading books that are set in like, every decade from the 1860s to the 1970s, so it sort of makes sense,” You shrugged, opening your laptop, “Besides, the roaring 20s was epic.” 

“Gatsby dying wasn’t epic.” He grumbled. 

You chuckled, “Well I have an idea for extra stuff besides a bunch of slides of major events that we could do, and none of them involving being shot. You wanna come to mine on Saturday to work on it?”

He shrugged, and that's how a few days later he found himself in your basement after finishing most of the slides as you tried to convince him to learn some dance. 

“I’m not doing that!” 

“Yes you are! Our project is bland! This is how we get the grade!” 

He stared at you for a moment, “You seriously think we’re gonna fail if we don’t?” 

“Miss Mcall looked over the slides the other day. She didn’t seem impressed,” You nodded. 

Dream sighed, slowly getting up off the couch, setting his laptop aside, “Fine.” 

You grinned, “Yes!” 

~~

“And the last set of partners will be Clay and (y/n), find your partners and get situated, I’ll be around with your topics shortly.” Miss Mcall announced. 

You breathed a sigh of relief as Dream came over, sitting down, “Hey.” 

“Hey yourself. I’m glad I’m working with you and not someone I don’t know at all.” You smiled. 

He nodded, “Me too.” 

“And your decade is the 1920s!” You took the paper the teacher offered you, “Have fun!” 

“I still don’t understand the decade project.” 

You pulled out your laptop, looking to Dream, “Well we’ve been reading books that are set in like, every decade from the 1860s to the 1970s. Besides, the roaring 20s were epic.” 

His face seemed to squish, and you tried not to think of how cute he looked as he grumbled, “Well Gatsby dying wasn’t epic.” 

“Well I have an idea for some extra stuff besides a bunch of slides about major events, and none of them involve getting shot,” You chuckled, “You wanna come to mine on Saturday to work on it?” 

Dream shrugged, and that was how you found yourself in your basement a few days later, beginning him to learn the Charleston.

“I’m not doing that!” He insisted. 

“Yes you are!” You yelled, “Our project if bland! This is how we get the grade!” 

“You really think we’re gonna fail?” His stare bore into you for a moment. 

You sighed, “Miss Mcall looked over the slides the other day. She didn’t seem impressed.” 

Slowly Dream pushed the laptop to the side, standing up, “Fine.” 

You beamed, jumping up and down, “Yes!” 

~~

Dream still flushed at the thought of you trying to show him how to do the dance. 

“We did get an A.” He conceded. 

You spent the rest of the night reminiscing, until near 11 when the sudden weight of the fact that Dream would be leaving only a few days after graduation. 

“Dude- I just realized- your like leaving.” 

“Yeah, I know.” He chuckled. 

“But collage doesn’t start till the fall. And I know your not taking summer classes.” 

He smiled, “I’m just gonna drive, see where I end up. Have a summer of freedom before for more years of school and a shit ton of student debt.” 

“Man.” You mumbled, trying to comprehend what it would be like without him, “Why didn’t I think of that?” 

Dream sighed, the thought of leaving you for who knows how long eating away at him, “I dunno man.” 

~~ The next day was graduation, and you found yourself taking your place in the student section next to Niki, both of you laughing at how silly you looked in your caps and gowns before the ceremony began. 

Your graduating class wasn’t huge, maybe a hundred people or so, so it didn’t take you long to have your name called, and you headed up to the stage to collect your diploma. 

You looked out over the crowd, meeting Dream’s eyes with a smile, he was grinning, clapping loudly as both Sapnap and George seemed to make fun of him.

Dream didn’t care that his bestfriends were berating him from either side, he still looked up at you, looking as beautiful as ever, trying to commit the moment to memory as you smiled back. 

And then the moment was over and you were heading off the stage to sit back down. 

Sometime later you found yourself moving around out on the school’s lawn, taking pictures with various friends and your parents, when you heard someone call your name. 

“(y/n)!” 

You turned, grinning, “Clay!” 

He practically tackled you in a hug, “We made it baby!” 

You could hear your mom taking a picture, as you laughed, “That we did!” 

~~ It was later, that night, you were sitting in your room, trying to take in the events of the day, and the fact that your bestfriend and crush was leaving the next day when your mom called up to your room, “(y/n)! Clay’s here!” 

You rushed down the stairs, not wanting to waste any of the time that you would have to say goodbye. 

Dream was standing in the doorway, his face full of anxiety as he saw you, but he swallowed the feeling, quickly wrapping his arms around you and pressing his lips to yours. 

You froze, hesitating barley a moment before kissing back, looking at him in confusion as he pulled away, you quickly blurted, “I don’t want you to leave.” 

“I don’t want to go where your not.” He said quickly. 

He pulled you into another hug, “Come with me. I- It’s you. Your the girl I like.” 

You chuckled into his neck, “Your the boy I like.” 

He pulled back, looking you in the eyes, repeating, “Come with me?” 

You grinned, “Of course.” 

[horrortamer-archive]

=> Valkyrie: The End Of The Beginning

[Special thank you to @smearrps @edwarddidntdeserveher and @shrubrp for proof reading and help editing this! This short story ending has been in the works for months now and I'm very grateful for their help.]

[Warning! This story includes body horror, eye/face horror, abuse victim blaming and possession. It's very long.]

_______________________________

You're tired of being the main character. You never asked for this. You never wanted it. You are sick of it.

There is so much attention and pressure constantly. YOU were chosen by Glub. YOU were chosen to become orphaner. YOU were chosen by the gods. YOU must save the world and bring mercy to the people. But YOU are tired of it. What will YOU do?

YOU are tired of waiting.

YOU are going to end this.

All talks with other rebellion leaders had ended. Everyone had gone silent due to the recent arrest and execution of one of your allies. You, Valkyrie Ampora, are restless. At first, you took this moment of quiet as a blessing. You were going to marry Porrim and start life together before you finished your job. However, you now see it as a curse. It's an aching silence. Now you have no plans for the future. Yes, you have people who love you dearly, but you have no plan. There is no promise of a future anymore. So, now that you know you have no future, why not take a risk? Might as well die for this cause and show the empire how much you fucking hate it.

You and your allies had talked about multiple murder attempts of the empress and grand many times before. You had insider information on these two specifically, having worked closely with them in the past as a politician. You knew exactly where the Grand Highblood lived, worked, and went in his free time. You knew he spent as much time as possible in a slinky little juggalo bar called The Alley on the outskirts of the capital city. People tend to drool and fawn over others with power and he knew he could use that power to get as many one night stands as possible. He used to be quite upset that that power didn’t work on you.

Yes, Kurloz was the number one big chuckle now, but he wasn’t a man of much luxuries. He stayed true to the juggalo religion and stayed close to all the practitioners who wished to reach out to him. He was vocal, personal and relatable. On paper, he was a man of the people. Holy shit did people eat that up. You knew that in reality, Kurloz was a sleeze ball. He lacked morality. If offered money to say something, he would sign the contract and ensure the sponsorship for that agenda kept on steadily. If there was a product, he was on it to promote that the company was Juggalo Safe. He was a charm and flirt who boasted his body count to any who got him tipsy enough - which, actually, wasn’t all too difficult. He was a dick and you hated him. You knew that his leadership was part of Alternia’s eventual decline.

You had no real plan. All you knew was that before the sun rose, the purple blood would be there.

You’re on the roof of a building across the street, on your belly with your rifle in your hands and your eye peeking through the scope. Usually, you would use a laser rifle for precision, but with lasers there is always a risk of survival. You’ve chosen an old vintage rifle that used physical ammo. Sadly, they don’t make silencers for these things anymore, so you just had to pray. Your body was tense yet mellow. Anxious but patient. If no one else is going to complete this job, you will on your own. It’s been hours and you’ve been still. Silent. No one has noticed you, and no one will notice you until you take the shot. You only have one chance. You will not fuck this up.

Finally, the time arrives. You have no idea how long it has been, but it feels like an entire day has passed. A group of loud purplebloods approach the door. The second tallest of the group you can identify by his big curly hair and his skull face paint, already bleeding off his face from the sweat of a pregame. If you really focused, you could see the beads of sweat, dragging white paint down his face and down his neck and on to his raggedy shirt. You can’t hold this anticipation for much longer. You have been here all day. You need to put his bastard in the grave right now. This is your time. Shoot him. Shoot him. SHOOT HIM--

The millisecond before you pulled the trigger, he turned from you and stepped forward. The millisecond after, everyone around him turned towards the noise. Towards you. They see you. He froze in fear right before the bullet penetrated the back of his head. As far as you knew in that moment, The Grand Highblood, Kurloz Makara, was dead and you needed to get the fuck out of there.

You could hear the screams of terror as you ran back into the building. Everything around you felt fake. Unreal. A blur. You did it. You finally fucking killed him all on your own. Now how were you going to get out of this mess? You kept running down the stairwell before you realized that his posse physically saw you and where you were. They may not have recognized exactly who you are, but they saw you run the fuck back into the building. You scurried back up the stairs to the roof and, you figured, today is a day full of god damn risks.

So you backed up and you got a running start. You thank the gods for your long legs as you jumped from the top of the building across to the roof of a corner store. You land on your feet, tumbling forward and rolling with the remaining momentum. Quickly, you slide off the top of the store and into the alley beside it. Then you just start running. You have no sense of direction, all you know is away. You have to get away.

The back alleys behind these buildings were disgusting. They hadn’t been maintained in sweeps. These back ways belonged to the apartments and rentals of warmer bloods whom the government had slummed here, out of view. As you heard the heels of your boots click along the pavement and you looked around, there was a nostalgic feeling. You used to be so small you could hide under boxes to protect yourself from the elements in the alleys of a city much like this one. You used to skitter around in darkness with your old moirail, Aranea. She hid you away from adults of whom she said would take you and give you to the cruel people who had put her there, lususless in the dark with only you. You didn’t know when you had stopped running. You stood there alone in the alley. Not even the moons could see you. As far as you knew, you were safe. Safe for now.

You allowed yourself to take deep shallow breaths, catching up with the stamina you had used. You stood there, listening to the world around you as you allowed your muscles to relax. You’re okay now, you think. You take your palm husk out of your pocket to text your first mate and you instantly regret it. You’re blinded by the light and it shone in the dark, acting like a flashlight. Almost immediately, you heard movement.

You tried to move as fast as you could, but it wasn’t fast enough. There was a sound of something wheezing through the air before you felt a sharp pain in your right shoulder. You quickly reached with your left arm to rip out whatever the object was, only to find an arrow in your hands. From your knowledge, it’s not tipped with anything. Just a flesh wound. And, with that, you turned to keep running. You knew then that at least one of those fucks knew exactly where you were, but you couldn’t stop running. You were a big target, and the only way out of this is if you created distance between you and the person in the shadows following or if you got them to show themselves and fight before their backup arrives, but you feel the fact that you were fucked deep in your bones.

It wasn’t long before they had chased you to the spot where they wanted you. You were so focused on running and trying to get away that you didn’t see the clown that was about to come out from the shadows and hit you until the last second. A bat that lacked the traditional spikes (thank fuck) hit you right in the face. You fell backwards onto your back and to the grungy floor below. You could immediately feel that your nose had been at least fractured. You immediately went to guard your face with your arms before the attacking clown had another moment to make contact again with their bat. You heard a deep voice shout, but you could not understand. Other voices replied and made conversation. Whether it was due to your panic or it was a language you didn’t know, you could not understand what they were saying. All you could understand was how tense your muscles were and how your blood pushed through your veins and in your ears. You had to find a way out of this. This couldn’t be it.

You feared this was how it would end. You would die how you had lived. Scared, hiding away in alleyways, trying to evade death and other highbloods in fear that they would take you or kill you. Only some things have changed since then. You have killed Aranea, your only protector. You have learned to fend for yourself. You have grown up. You have fought. You have loved. You have survived. You are persistent. Oftentimes it feels as if you have beaten death at his own game, but tonight you fear him. And yet? You are ready for him. You are tired of being the main character. You are tired of suffering for the narrative. You want to be free. To be happy. You fear that you will only find that in death.

A purple blood somehow taller than you lifts you by the horns and holds you up against a wall. She is screaming in your face. You don’t understand anything she’s saying. All you can understand are your title and your deadname. They know who you are despite how you’ve changed. You peek out from your arm and you see how high you are off the ground. You feel small. You feel young. You can’t wait for Aranea to save you anymore. The clown makes a comment about how much money is on your head. They can’t kill you now. You must be turned in to the empire. You must suffer for your anarchy. For your rebellion. Insubordination.

You will be tortured and executed for your crimes against the empire.

There was just an inkling of hope in your heart. You hoped that something would come to save you, just like before. When you were young and imprisoned for the crimes you had committed to survive. Back then, you were saved by your former master, who served me. The woman who built you up and taught you there is more to fight for than just survival. She taught you to speak to me. Nowadays, you fight for more than just survival. You have fought to try and make this world a better place. You started with me. Before you, I held no sympathy for living creatures besides those who I could speak to. You used your gift of communication to teach me sympathy and empathy. You taught me there are beings out there that deserve life. You taught me the struggles that mortals face. How the world that serves me harms you and harms those who just want to rest. You taught me sadness. You have taught me so much. In return, I have taught you to access the void. How to protect yourself from it. How to reach out farther than any orphaner before you. I have protected you and you have fed and protected me.

I am tired, as well. I am billions of sweeps old. I contain knowledge that mortals would go insane upon learning. I have been shoved into what is essentially a fish tank by those who wish to play god. I gave you an impossible mission. You tried to the best of your ability to complete it. Deep down, I knew you would never be able to complete it, but I was shocked at how hard you fought anyways. On the other end of this mission was a promised happiness. I promised goddesshood and a life worth living, and you fought tooth and nail for your freedom. OUR freedom. Even when you had lost hope, you fought for something. Even when you felt there was no future, you fought for something. I am grateful.

For this, I thank you.

For this, I will save your life once more. Though, sadly, this comes at a price for both of us.

Your whole body begins to ache. You are in agonizing pain. It feels like your body is ripping apart as the void fills it. Yet, you do not scream. You are calm. You feel me touching your heart and filling you with all of me. Rest, I told you, I will take everything from here. You relinquish control to me.

The arms covering your face relax to your sides as your whole body starts to ease. All you can hear now are confused murmurs as you feel yourself drift away into sleep.

I saved you the only way I knew how to. Your whole adult life, you have covered yourself in tattoos and symbols in honor of me. You fought the idea of praising any specific gods, and yet, you have dedicated your body to serving me. This allowed me to do what I had to. I raised your arms and made your hands grip the enemy clown’s wrist. Your claws dug into their wrist before trying to pull their wrist apart. Their screams mean nothing to me.

Your head rises back up and I see the fear in the huge purple’s face. I spot from the corner of your eye that a smaller clown is trying to run. I automatically assume, of course, that they were running to get help or to warn possible backup. So, I did what I felt made the most sense.. Your claws let go of the clown’s wrist and they immediately let go of you, your knees hitting the ground. The tentacle tattoos on your right arm looked as if they were moving by magic, before my appendages burst out of your shoulder, severing your arm from your body. White tentacles grew rapidly, allowing me more physical control of your body. I forced your body back onto its feet and continued to push white tentacles from the open wound. I reached out to the closest being, my appendages around their neck, squeezing as tight as I could manage until I felt a dirty, visceral crack.

The world around us blurs. To be honest, I believe I, too, have lost myself. I reached out to our next victim and pulled them close. Your teeth sunk into their throat, ripping it out, discarding them on the wet, grimy street.. Even through the blur, I see more people fleeing. Your body falls to the ground as white tentacles burst from your right hip, shedding your right leg and leaving it behind. Your right eye pops out as more white tentacles sprout. It’s at this moment that I realize…

I am hurting you. I am no longer helping you. I have lost control of myself and your body. Every time your life is in danger and I step in to help I always hurt you. I’m so sorry, my child. I must fix this.

Smaller tentacles sprout from your skin, only tearing it just enough to make more room for the rest. Violet blood pours down your face and pools on the ground. The only thing I can think to do is crawl away and put you in a safer spot. Your body moved in a pathetic crawl, your arm, your leg and my tentacles working together to try and find safety, leaving behind only a trail of your blood. I find a spot where not even the moons can see your body, and I let you rest.

I call out to the void, begging for help.

Someone will answer.

It will be okay.

Your next life will be happier, my child. I promise.

[blazerina]

Here First (Bryce x MC)

Here First (Bryce x MC)

Word Count: 1717

A/N: I know it’s crazy to think that I’m writing about Bryce. It’s been so long since I’ve written anything! I started randomly replaying Open Heart and tried his route just for something different and I’m smitten. This is just me trying to get back in the thick of writing…I miss it! Hope all are well – sending peace and joy to this fandom and anyone who takes the time to read this! Be well. xoxo

---

Bryce fell back onto Allie’s bed with a heavy sigh.

He was tired.

He was hungry.

He was worried…and he was nervous. Two things he was not used to feeling.  

He knew he had just completed a 12-hour shift and that typically resulted in brain fog, but this was different.

His mind was reeling. Spinning.

When he heard the other interns and nurses talking about Dr. Ramsey’s dramatic announcement that Allie would be accompanying him to Miami, he had to find a supply closet to compose himself in.  He legitimately thought he might be sick.

Never before had he felt this way about anyone, and it was starting to get to him.

Why did he care that she was suddenly number 1 in the intern competition?

Why did he care that Dr. Ramsey knew her by name and no one else?

Why did he care that she would be spending not one, but two days completely alone with him?

“Ugh.” Allie huffed, obviously frustrated as she searched her closet.  Her voice interrupted Bryce’s thoughts.

“I know I’ve got one in here somewhere…”

“What are you looking for?” Bryce asked, rolling over onto his side and propping himself up on an elbow.

“A stupid formal. Ethan just emailed me that we’ll be going to a casino-themed reception. Poolside. Who wears a formal out by the pool?!” Allie hissed, picking up piles of dirty clothes and dropping them on the floor in a new location.

Bryce felt his jaw tighten thinking about one of many situations Allie would find herself in with Dr. Ramsey.  Ethan had a reputation around the hospital, for sure. But the reputation most people disdained was the one of condescension, being dressed down for mistakes and held to the highest of standards right out of the gate. This reputation was not the one that concerned Bryce the most…

He always tried hard to stay out of Dr. Ramsey’s way but had observed him enough and heard enough of his conversations with Dr. Emery to know that Ethan was a bit of a ladies’ man at times. There were rumors here and there of small insignificant relationships with interns or other attendings.  Bryce knew how many of the other female doctors and nurses found Dr. Ramsey attractive. He also knew many of the first-year interns hung on his every word hoping to impress him, to get on his good side. Bryce always shook his head at their desperate attempts, knowing they’d be willing to do anything to get attention from THE Ethan Ramsey.

Allie wasn’t like that, but that was probably the very thing that made her stand out from the rest of the intern group.  It was certainly one of the reasons Bryce was attracted to her.

Quiet confidence. Sincere care and concern for others. Brilliant skills. Modest. Respectful as well as respected. Anyone would want to be her. Anyone would want to be beside her.

Bryce wasn’t dumb. He saw the way Ramsey interacted with her, looked at her, talked to her. It was different. Different than any other intern, nurse, attending, you-name-it, that he normally interacted with.

None of that bothered Bryce until…well until…Bryce searched his mind trying to find the answer.

When was it exactly that he changed his mind about her?

When did these interactions between Allie and Ethan start to get under his skin?

He couldn’t pin-point it, but he knew that now, in this moment, he felt threatened. And he didn’t like it.

Up until recently he had been feeling confident in his feelings for her and her feelings for him. They had chemistry, they were friends, they understood each other and what they were experiencing together. It was an even push-pull relationship that left both of them satisfied in more ways than one. There was no need for a label, it was an unspoken understanding. A complicated dance that each one of them performed delicately but assertively, every day.

They were both adults. They knew what they were doing. They knew what they were getting into with one another, but they were both okay with it, even though they had never talked specifically about it.  Right? This is what Allie wanted, wasn’t it? Bryce knew he wanted it…but he started to wonder about her.

If he wanted it but she didn’t, what would that mean? Is this what happens when you get to the place where a decision must be made? Is this the feeling? Insecurity?

“Bryce?! Hello?!” Allie snapped her fingers, trying to get his attention. It was obvious he was distracted.

“Which one? The black or the purple?” She held up both her formal dress options, waiting on him to respond, completely ignorant to what he was thinking and feeling in the moment.

He swallowed hard, imagining her in either one of the gowns, being paraded around the reception on Dr. Ramsey’s arm like a trophy he had won. Bryce sat up quickly, positioning himself on the edge of the bed. He wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to stay in her presence without doing or saying something he’d regret.

“I like the purple.” He nodded decisively, trying to smile and use his trademark Lahela charm that oftentimes got him out of difficult situations.

“Me too.” Allie smiled, laying it on top of her open suitcase. “I think I’m almost done…” she called to him from her bathroom where she gathered some toiletries. “Then we can maybe hit up Donahue’s or something for a drink?”

“Uh, yeah, sure…” Bryce scratched the back of his head, really trying to figure out if he should say anything or not.

Allie seemed so smoothly confident in her trip. She was proud of herself for being chosen. She was chill and relaxed. He didn’t want to do anything to ruin that for her.

“Hey.” She appeared in front of him suddenly, leaning on the door frame that led into her bathroom from the bedroom.

“Are you okay?” She furrowed her brow and crossed her arms in front of her chest, sincerely concerned.

“You don’t seem okay. Did something happen today during your shift?”

Bryce immediately broke out into a wry smile. “You know nothing happens to me. I’ve got everything under control. Always.”

“Mkay.” Allie responded, moving closer to him, but still skeptical. “Do you not want to go out tonight? I know it’s already late and you’ve had a long day. You’re sweet to have sat here this long!”

She slowly sat down on his lap, placed her arms around his neck and locked eyes with him.

“I’m for sure tired but since you’re about to leave on the trip of a lifetime, I want to be sure I get some time with you.” Bryce rested his forehead against hers, his last words coming out barely above a whisper.

“I don’t know that I’d say it’s the trip of a lifetime. I’m scared out of my mind – who actually wants to spend that much time with Ethan?” Allie retorted.

“Um, a lot of people.” Bryce said, pulling away from her. “You’ve got an even bigger target on your back now, you know that right? You’re already on a first name basis with the guy and everyone’s talking about it.”

Allie nodded sadly.  “I know I should be excited, but it’s just complicated now and I’m not the same wide-eyed innocent intern I once was, you know? I’ve seen too much already…”

Bryce sighed. This was what he wanted to hear but still felt the need to say something.

His heart was beating fast, and he was trying hard to make sure what he was about to say or do was precise and well thought out. He approached everything like it was a surgery. This time though he didn’t have a mask to hide behind.

He just wasn’t sure that now was the time to try to figure out what was going on between the two of them. As much as it pained him, maybe she needed to make a choice for herself without his influence.

“I know deep down inside a part of you is stoked to go to Miami. It’s okay to celebrate, Allie. You’re kicking everyone’s ass!”

Allie searched his face and smiled slowly. “I’m proud of myself, you’re right but all this other crap that comes with it isn’t a party.  Now I’m being seen as his number one and it’s a whole new level of pressure.”

“I feel like you’re one of those people who’s always going to have options.” Bryce almost winced as he said it.

“Whatever you want you’ll be able to get.”

“Thanks…I think?” Allie laughed lightly. “That was a compliment, right?”

Her hands slid down his chest and one of them rested over his heart. She asked again, visibly concerned, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Bryce nodded.  “Maybe I should go ahead and head out. You’ve got to meet Ramsey early in the morning to catch your flight, and I’m beat.”

Allie responded by standing up and getting off Bryce’s lap.  “Okay, if you’re sure. I’ll text you…you have to keep me updated on all the hospital gossip while I’m gone.”

“I can do that.” Bryce stretched while he stood up as well, bringing his hands over his head and stifling a yawn.

“I know it’s only for two days, and I’m being dramatic, but I AM going to miss you…” Allie sighed, moving in to give him a long hug.

Bryce felt defeated as he squeezed her tightly and gave her a light kiss on the top of her head. He didn’t dare tell her just how much he’d miss her or how she’d be all he’d think about while she was gone.

“I’ll miss you too.” He responded, as he broke away from the hug.

Heading towards the door he summoned a little bit of courage.

“When you think about those options, Allie, just remember one thing for me, okay?”

She watched him, waiting for him to finish.

“I was here for you first.”

Allie’s eyes narrowed, trying to make sense of what he was saying.

“I hope it’s a great trip and that you get everything you want. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

Hanging his head, he left quickly, afraid of what he’d see if he looked back.

[mimiplaysgames]

Terra Week Day 2 (Youth/Fashion)

Summary: All Terra wants to do is be calm before the storm. Then  Lea plays a joke on him. And Isa talks to him about the past. Life is full of lemons and lemonade. | Word Count: 3,306

Read on AO3

A/N:  For Terra Week 2021! You can find that account on Twitter!

~*~*~*~*~

The Tenets of a Master, Ch. 2

Our hearts live free in our Youth Children shine Light with their truth

“Let me tell you something—don’t get offended, okay?”

Terra’s answer is a nervous chuckle. 

“Cross your heart,” Lea insists.

“I don’t know what that means.”

It’s a sunny afternoon at the eastern shore of Destiny Islands. Lea props his elbow on their shared beach table, ignoring his empty plate (he’s planning on being last for the barbecue, all for the extra saturation of flavor on the scraps). Terra is enjoying a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice, pulp included. Lea narrows his eyes as if scanning Terra’s face, who is slurping another gulp. 

“Are you bothered by the way I’m drinking?” 

“I’m trying to decide if you’re the type to kick me under the table or punch me in the face.”

“That sounds more like Aqua.”

“She’d really—?”

“If you’re rude. Yeah.”

Lea smirks. “How rude, exactly?”

Terra was going to say that he’s seen her curse twice in the lifetime he’s known her, but something about that embarrasses him. Something about the way Lea studies him, about the way the other Keybearers address him so formally when they’re much more relaxed with each other. It makes him feel targeted. He’s never considered that he was weird until he’s surrounded by other people.

“Why don’t you spit out what you want to say.” 

“What’s with the uniform?” Lea asks, pointing vaguely at his chest and arm. “The crossed suspenders, the armor… You could break bones with those fancy shoes.”

“They’re… proper attire for a wielder? This is the crest of Mastery.” Terra points to his belt buckle. “To remind you of your goals. The armor to protect you from Darkness.” He holds his forearm, rubbing the metal like a friend in need of comfort. “The cross is a label, the Mark of Duty, so that anyone in need can find you.”

Lea snorts and immediately pulls out his Gummiphone, typing a quick message with a grin that knows an inside joke. Holding his chin, he opens his mouth as if to say something, then shakes his head and all the words out of it. “Exactly my point.”

“Your point?”

“You three kind of carry yourselves like you have sticks up your asses.”

Terra chokes on his drink. “What?”

Lea puffs out his chest and broadens his shoulders—he’s trying to imitate someone stiff and intimidating, but it doesn’t work. Not with a lanky body like that. “Have you seen the way you walk?” He wiggles his shoulders robotically. “Like there’s a five-foot pole shoved right up the asshole, all the way to the forehead.” 

Yeah, that would earn him a kick under the table if Aqua’s the one to hear it. At least, if anything, Lea makes it easy to smile.

“Admit it. You think the armor is cool.” Terra sure did when he forged it for the first time, telling Aqua that his first beta mold was not big enough.

Lea is quick to shut up, choosing his words too carefully. “A jacket would be nice. The peacoat types with the elbow padding.” 

“Or a cloak.” Terra chugs the last of his juice.

“Not a bad idea. Would look good with the hair.” Lea points up to Terra’s spiky crown. “You should talk to Isa. He likes to dress nice.” Standing up and crossing to the other side, he shoves Terra in the shoulder. “But seriously. You scare the other kids. We should address that.”

Terra swallows, his juice thick and gooey. 

It’s not really their fault, is it?

Maybe Terra is paranoid, but it seems like Roxas is avoiding him. Not that he deserves any blame—Roxas must have lots of stories to tell about Terra’s face. After all, it’s strange for Terra to look at someone with Ven’s face but with all the misplaced expressions. Right now, Roxas is the furthest away from Terra in the group, choosing to stand near the water with hands in his pockets. Riku is next to him, carrying two plates. They’re listening to Ven talk. 

Xion keeps to herself, but she also has a hard time looking Terra in the eyes. Terra’s been tempted to ask about her story, how she’s gotten here and whether Terra’s face has hurt her, but he’s afraid to ask. She’s with Kairi and Aqua, sharing fruity drinks with pineapple wedges on the rims.

“I scare them?”

“You are like a robot about to punch anyone who looks at you wrong. You need some sway. You know, like you’re a buddy. A teddy bear. Give me a hug, you know, that kind of vibe?” 

Terra’s never thought about it before. Master Eraqus emphasized the pride, the strength, the confidence. Walk it and you shall embody it. To be professional is to be trusted. But times have changed, and Terra needs to catch up. “Will you show me?”

The way Lea walks is the type you see among scheming minions guarding a castle atop grassless mountains (at least from the picture books Terra used to read as a kid). The sort of bravado that promises some and lies even more. Everyone thinks Lea is fun to hang around with, though (and truthfully, he is). He’d know better, and if this helps to melt the ice and make everyone comfortable with Terra, so be it.

“More weight to your step,” Lea says, ending his sentence with a pop and snapping his fingers. He straightens up to imitate Terra’s posture, almost on his toes. “You’re up here, like you’re trying not to shit yourself.”

That sounds easy enough. Terra swings his arms more, bending his knees every time he plants his foot so that he bobs up and down. It earns finger-points, whoops and snickers from the others. Lea brags about what a good job he’s done, signaling to Roxas specifically who shakes his head in disapproval (Ven looks toward the horizon out of embarrassment). 

Aqua has a tight smile and pretends to sip when Terra approaches. She leans close and whispers, “What have you been drinking?” 

“A crappy sense of humor.”

As much as Aqua wants to fight it, she snorts, and hands him her drink, speaking even lower so no one hears. “I bet ten munny this is better.”

It’s too sweet.

“Lea is so mean. He thinks you’re such an easy target,” Xion says, staring at the sand. That smile though is bingo, an improvement above the rest, so Lea’s done his job. She pulls out her Gummiphone and starts to type. Glancing at Terra, she corrects herself, “Sir.”

There’s no need for Sir but should Terra tell her that to make it more casual or would that be disrespectful to her wishes? 

A mock-laugh echoes through the beach when Lea checks his phone and lets everyone know that he still is very proud of himself. Xion sticks her tongue out at him. 

“I think it’s good for him, having this much fun,” Kairi says, swirling her straw. “Sometimes Lea can get too serious.” 

That doesn’t sound like Lea but Terra notices how engrossed he is in typing on his phone without a smile, totally not engaged in the conversation Roxas is having with Riku. Maybe Terra doesn’t know as much as he thinks he does. Maybe first impressions are fallacies. 

Smiles can be painted.

Like Kairi’s, her small grin a mask that doesn’t suit her. Terra would act the same, too, if one of his best friends, his family really, went missing.

“Naminé and the others are on their way,” Kairi says after she checks her phone. “We should go to her.”

“They’re not meeting us here?” Aqua asks.

“The sunset is much nicer on the other side of the island.” There goes Kairi’s painted smile. “But the water is bluer here. Good photo ops no matter where you are.”

“It’s a simple walk over, right?”

“Yes, ma’am. You’ll recognize the spot.”

The island is small, connected by caves and overcrowded with palm trees that hide how far the beach stretches. For some reason there’s a lingering ache somewhere in Terra’s stomach. He’s been at this beach before, but he is skeptical of that, as if the last and only time he was here was some sort of déja vu but he can’t picture what he’s supposed to remember. 

Maybe this is coming from Xehanort. That thought alone is both worrisome and exciting. 

“You ok?”

Riku lags behind with him as the rest of the group hikes through the sand. Aqua turns her back over and motions to do the same. It makes sense why she’s concerned—Terra is making it look like he’s isolating himself.

“I’m fine, just…” This world is so small. How crazy it is that it was that long ago when Terra sensed how Riku felt the same way. So much truth spoken in this small cluster of sand and water. 

Riku knowingly places his hands on his waist. Terra’s living protegé, successor, superior, all humility wrapped in pride with something that looks similar to guilty written on his face.

“I think I need some alone time. Tell Aqua five minutes,” Terra says. 

Riku smiles like he’s been there, done that millions of times before. “Will do.” He steps off, giving Aqua a wave of his hand that stops her in her tracks. 

When the voices fade and the water laps and crashes, Terra listens for something foreign but familiar. He follows the trail of shoe marks in the sand slowly, stepping stones to a moment he hopes might set off a little spark. Setting aside the vague fear of connecting hearts with someone dead and dangerous, he’s hoping for a lightning bolt, a sudden flash and then boom, he knows Rainfell is safe and sound.

But what he feels is as vacant as the ocean sprawled before him, like he’s stared at it for years. It’s making him anxious, how he wants to walk the surface and see what’s on the other side of the horizon. If the water drops off the edge of a cliff, if he falls all the way down to hell. 

And then, nothing. His heart sinks.

But why, though? Being spared from connecting to Xehanort means he gets to keep some sanity—

—but it also means that he’ll never reconnect with Master Eraqus ever again. Death is death, a door that goes one way. 

Maybe Terra is a terrible person for being so disappointed. 

A buzz in his pocket snaps him back to a reality where the sun is on its way to setting, and just like that, Terra feels lighter. 

He’s expecting a text from Aqua or Ven, but what he gets is:

kairi

at waterfall icymi

icymi?

Terra looks around for a sign. Shouts and laughter whisper from somewhere far away, followed by a splash of water. 

“Lost?”

Behind him is none other than Isa, put together in a tracksuit so impeccable it’d be a shame to sweat in. 

“I’m looking for Iseemee Waterfall.”

“Excuse me?”

“I think that’s where everyone else is.” Terra shows him the screen. 

Isa purses his lips as though he has found something amusing. “This island only marches in two directions. We’ll pass by it eventually.” He gestures to invite Terra to accompany him—come to think of it, Isa tends to keep to himself, his visits sparse and quick, usually speaking only when spoken to. “Ventus has offered a game of frisbee with me,” he says like it’s a blessing. “I found it to be very respectable.”

“He’s a good kid.” Terra can’t think of anything else to say except to repay the compliment. “Roxas is pretty cool.”

Isa flashes him a set of wide eyes before giving him a smile that’s equal parts unsettling and clairvoyant. “Roxas has his ways. You understand.”

“Of course.” Terra crosses his arms. The sand here sinks deep. “I just don’t know what I’m doing wrong.”

“Nothing.” Deadpan and matter-of-fact are words Terra would use to describe the way Isa speaks, with a touch of softness that is too vulnerable to let itself be transparent. “Roxas will need some time to adjust to your face.”

Terra sighs.

“You can bribe him with a game.” Isa’s smiles are controlled but sincere, a ghost given life again but not sure how to use it. “He likes to win.”

That seems so simple yet why has Terra never thought of it? “Thanks for the pointers.”

Silence settles with them alongside the seabirds gawking over them, not awkward but not comfortable either, bringing with it a loss for words and a question hanging in the air that doesn’t get asked. They finally arrive at the spot: the same place Terra’s been before, at the same pier with lazy trees that bend near-parallel to the ground and grow star-shaped fruit. Everyone else is already here, Naminé a beaming pillar of light in her white dress, shy and nervous to dip her toes in the water. 

Isa takes a seat on a rockface next to the lowest-hanging tree. 

“May I admit,” Isa says, his hands splayed on his lap as he watches the ocean turn purple, “it is also strange for me to look upon your face.” There’s no waver to his voice, no hesitation. Isa is brave.

“I don’t blame you.” Seems like a common theme: leave a trail of suffering, and everyone’s going to remember you for it. “Actually, I wanted to ask you something.”

“You may go ahead.”

“I want to help Aqua find her Keyblade.”

Even Isa’s chuckles have restraint and poise. “I wouldn’t know of such a thing.”

“I was the last one to have it.”

“You mean Xehanort.”

“Well…”

“A matter of a different person. I must insist so.”

“You knew him.”

“I did not. You overestimate the time he lived in your body. The majority of those years were under Xemnas’s control.”

“Xemnas.”

“His Nobody. Or rather, yours.”

Terra can’t help it. He has to chuckle. “I appreciate your straightforwardness.”

Isa turns to face him. “Lea tells me you consider the X crossed over your chest as a mark to bear with pride.”

It slaps Terra in the face. Isa has scars jutting across his nose, too deep to be self-inflicted. “Um… yeah.” He clears his throat. “We call it a Mark of Duty.”

Isa does not seem offended, but whether that is out of authenticity or politeness, Terra can’t read him. 

“We’ve called it the Recusant’s Sigil,” Isa says slowly, eyes far away. “It bore us new names. Defined us so we refused to submit to our old identities, leaving us free to forge a united purpose.” He mimics the shape of the X with a finger across his chest. Cross my heart. “To the very end. That cross spelled an ending. We were all heretics to the person we once lived.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Terra whispers. The Master wore it proudly to the day of his own demise. 

Isa touches his face. “Xemnas marked me deeper than the others.”

“I’m so sorry.” Terra gasps. “I don’t… I don’t have memory of that.” 

“Ah.” A painted smile. If Isa hoped for some sort of validation or acknowledgment, Terra has failed spectacularly. “All the same, A Nobody’s path is a means to an end. We were all watched, weeded out for traitors.” Suddenly he does not look like Isa, but someone else with Isa’s face. “How Xemnas lacked the scope to understand us.”

“What do you mean?”

“We were perhaps experiments doomed to fail. The piece of Xehanort’s heart installed into us was supposed to swallow us whole. But the foundation of this concept was flawed. We kept memories of our human selves. That was supposed to make us superior to lesser Nobodies, but it was also our weak link. The goal was to keep us numb to them, so when we inevitably remembered, we’d have little care and wouldn’t dare stray from our duties.

“For me, the more I remembered the images, the more I remembered what I had sought out to do in my life.” Isa nods to himself. “Being a Nobody was supposed to give me strength to follow through, but it felt like shrinking. Until there came a point where I grew back. By then, I couldn’t fit myself anymore.”

“What were you trying to do before you became a Nobody?”

Isa passes him that knowing smile, a secret. “Finding a proper ending to my own story.” He exhales, content. “Do you have any memory from being Xemnas at all?”

“None.”

“What about from Xehanort?”

“No.”

Isa frowns. “Nothing in these past twelve years? Where were you?”

Thickness clogs Terra’s throat like a cork, painful to take down. He shrunk for twelve years, too, shoved into a corner of a room with no walls, black on black on black, as if light never existed. He’d move as if he had arms when he had none, flail and try to wake himself up when he had none. He wasn’t anyone or anything but a name. 

He shouldn’t have lived for twelve years. But he did. He lived when he knew Eraqus was near, never seen except once (a bushy smile hidden under the mustache), never heard, never touched. When Terra tried to speak, tried to listen, tried to move and ask for help, he couldn’t. He just knew Eraqus was there to give him hope that the nightmare would stop. Thus he lived. 

The part with Eraqus, Terra keeps to himself. 

“I was Nowhere.”

“I can’t begin to comprehend what that is supposed to be like.”

“A loop,” Terra briskly answers, leaning onto the palm tree and breathing in the parched aroma of bark. The air is crisp with salt and it’s fanning out the heat of the sun from earlier that day. There is laughter and the relaxing crunch of waves and a humid layer on his skin—everything he couldn’t get in Nowhere. “I played the same memory of my nineteenth birthday for one hundred times. I don’t know why I chose that memory so much, I guess I thought that was as good as it was going to get. The same conversations, the same jokes, over and over again. I made sure to get everyone’s voices right so I wouldn’t forget. 

“But after the fiftieth time, I’d beg Aqua to say something different, but she never did. I’d try to ask Ven a new question but it never escaped my mouth. I could only act the part I was supposed to. Over and over again. When I was tired of it, I went back to Nowhere and waited. 

“I only kept going because… I think I wanted to live. On a loop. I wanted to, then I didn’t. Then I did.

“You never know what kind of thoughts will hit you when you think you’ve decided to let go. At random times, it—” He sounds like a stranger to himself. “I convinced myself that this will never end. That I’ll be punished forever. I needed to burn out once and for all. 

“And when I’d get to that point, I’d realize some things. I’d realize that I never made things right with my friends, so I told myself that I had to get through this, and get myself out.

“Then I remember I’ll never be free. I’m so tired. But I’ve never had my first kiss, so I have to get out of this if I’m ever going to experience it.

“Then you decide to play your most humiliating memory to find out exactly what you did wrong, when you’ve made your best friend cry. It makes you want to forget everything and rest. But—and this is going to sound weird—I’ve never ordered food at a restaurant before. So, if I ever will, I must get out of this.”

[found--family]

‘Supernatural’ season 15, episode 15 screener secrets: We’re ‘Highway to Heaven’-ing this bitch

[everything is from this Hypable article] 

This week on Supernatural, Amara returns and are angels solving people crimes now? Hypable previewed Supernatural season 15, episode 15 “Gimme Shelter,” so read on to find out more.

After a sweet and fun return to ease us back into the world of Supernatural last week, things are heating up pretty dramatically – I knew there wouldn’t be much more time for messing around.

“Gimme Shelter” sees Supernatural dip its feet into what the Winchesters currently believe is their big plan – eliminating Chuck by also taking down Amara, resulting in what they believe will be a cosmic-being-free balanced world. But first, they have to find her. Sam and Dean get a pretty good lead on her location, which results in a very interesting conversation between Amara and the boys – especially with her most favoritest Dean, of course.

Meanwhile, Castiel is persuaded into taking Jack to investigate a nearby case in Missouri – which all three adults suspect is probably the work of a human criminal – for the sake of humoring Jack and keeping him both busy and supervised. On the way home, they have a very interesting conversation of their own.

Spoiler Warning: This article contains generalized spoilers for Supernatural season 15 episode 15, “Gimme Shelter.” If you do not wish to be spoiled at all, do not read this article in advance of the airdate.

The official synopsis for Supernatural season 15, episode 15 reads:

MATT COHEN DIRECTS — Castiel (Misha Collins) and Jack (Alexander Calvert) work a case involving members of a local church. Meanwhile, Sam (Jared Padalecki) and Dean (Jensen Ackles) go off in search of Amara (guest star Emily Swallow). Matt Cohen directed the episode written by Davy Perez (#1515). Original airdate 10/15/2020.

If you want to know what to expect from this week’s Supernatural, here’s 10 teasers plus 15 single word clues from our advance viewing of Supernatural season 15, episode 15 “Gimme Shelter.”

‘Supernatural’ season 15, [10] episode 15 screener secrets 

1️⃣ During the filming of this episode (27 January – 5 February) Jared Padalecki and Jensen Ackles both spent much of the week at home with their families in Austin, a detail which was made clear on their and their wives’ public social media accounts – possibly the result of scheduled time off as they’ve mentioned occasionally requesting? The result is that the episode is weighted much more towards Cas, Jack and the murder investigation they’re chasing than towards Sam and Dean, but on the flip side, the Sam and Dean arc is more crucial to the long game of the show, so what it lacks in minutes, it makes up for in impact. 

2️⃣ However, the episode still begins and ends in a grounded family group way, at home in the Bunker – one of those “we know we should be doing this together but there are Reasons we have to split up” situations. This detail, in my opinion, really speaks to the motivation of the creative team towards honoring the four leads as parts of a whole – in earlier days, this kind of episode would have been two entirely non-touching threads. This one is, if not a tapestry, at very least a braid – tied up together at both ends, and intertwined in the middle.

3️⃣ You might have seen pictures or ominous trailer footage of Castiel and Jack digging a hole at the crossroads. We all know what that means! However, don’t worry. They simply want to talk – and the demon they summon has some really interesting – and dare I say positive? – news about the state of Hell under Her Most Gracious Majesty Queen Rowena. Let’s just say the demon is actually pretty friendly… and extremely bored.

4️⃣ The two main guest stars on Cas and Jack’s side of the episode are both actors who have been briefly featured on the show before, in a couple of pretty famous episodes – one from season 2 and one from season 5. I don’t think there’s meant to be any meta or Easter Egg element to this, just the usual Vancouver casting industry cycle (see the ‘Weren’t You In Another Episode‘ reference page on the SuperWiki) but one of them is one of those cute “I appeared on Supernatural as a child and now I’m here as an adult” situations, and the other, well… the original character’s very name has become the stuff of Supernatural legend, and if I were in charge of this episode I would have put the actor in a particular piece of footwear and made sure we got a shot of it, just for kicks.

5️⃣ Castiel steps into a prayer circle when the church group members are meant to give a testimony – presumably of their journey so far and their relationship with faith. That’s what Cas chooses to share, at least – in a non-specific, humanized way – and fans of the character will be moved to hear the ways he verbalizes his own growth.

6️⃣ Speaking of growth, some of Dean’s is spelled out for him in the most miraculous way by Amara. After Sam and Dean meet up with her and have a conversation about Chuck that’s ultimately a bit of a non-starter, Dean returns to ask her another, more personal question. Her response gave me legitimate chills. It’s a very weighty mic drop and the combination of the level of impact and the level of clarity (it’s entirely airtight, no room for interpretation) feels like the culmination of all the self-actualization work the show has been doing on Dean in the last four years. (I wish I could tell you Sam got a big special moment like this in the episode, but he doesn’t. Amara’s return was always going to be Dean’s thing.) Amara’s speech to Dean… it doesn’t feel isolated, like the idea of it was invented just for this episode. It feels more like concrete evidence of what the show has been trying to prove for ages. And the funny thing is, Amara is the anti-Chuck, right, and all season, we’ve learned about the version of the story Chuck thinks is good, and we’ve been told to root against that. Chuck’s version of Supernatural isn’t how the writers really feel. But I think Amara’s might be. Dean has obviously struggled to see what she tells him, all in one piece, but here it is – this was the point, laid out on the table, from the entity behind the curtain – both onscreen and off. Amara knew what she was doing, and so did the writers. This was always, always the point.

7️⃣ Even before this massive scene, Amara’s return is just great. Emily Swallow does such an incredible job with this character – she really is the anti-Chuck even without the whole writer comparison. Swallow imbues this character with such an incredible peace and stillness in comparison to Chuck’s histrionics – this was true in the way she spoke and behaved even in season 11, but this Amara also feels kindness and patience and tolerance. She radiates power, even when she’s also slightly goofy. There’s no fight, there’s no antagonism, but the boys in her presence are like little fish in a vast ocean – they quickly realise they have no real control in this conversation. The way that we leave her indicates she’ll be back and has more to say or do, and what she shared during her reunion with Sam and Dean makes me really curious about the role she’s due to play in the show’s endgame.

8️⃣ I’m not very religious but I really like the version of a church group or ‘faith-based community,’ as they say, featured in “Gimme Shelter.” Supernatural has a shaky history in terms of how the show portrays people in-universe who believe. Sometimes they’re treated like a joke, or stupid, or dangerous, or hypocrites, but occasionally civilian acts of faith are shown as great and powerful things, even in a world where we know that what they believe in isn’t strictly accurate. That concept became an even bigger question mark for me when we got the reveal that Judeo-Christian God is not only absent, but our actual villain. However, this was a really nice look at why faith can still be a framework for a good way of life – loving thy neighbor – for some people, no matter the truth about Chuck. The episode also features a callback to writer Davy Perez’ very first Supernatural episode “American Nightmare” in terms of the way that some people have weaponized faith and religion to the detriment and harm of others or even themselves, but this factor does not negate the positive point mentioned above.

9️⃣ Supernatural alum and newly minted director Matt Cohen really got the full old-school Supernatural episode experience when it comes to leaning into the spooky horror element. The murderous case-of-the week featured in this episode is heavy and lingering on the gore and even contains a little bit of a jump scare, so view responsibly.

🔟 So, um, you know that line, in this week’s teaser trailer? The line that a lot of people are freaking out about because it seems to pertain to something important that we know about Cas’ fate that Dean and Sam aren’t aware of? Yeah, it is 100% absolutely not about that at all. It is about something super important, but it’s not that. It’s also the last line of the episode, but trust me – it’s not a cliffhanger and it’s not a red herring and it’s not a twist. The information is gleaned within the episode and you’ll know exactly what Cas is telling Dean about after seeing it – narratively, that’s the reason it isn’t in the episode, because the show clearly assumes you’ll get the picture and can skip a rehash of information. But what you were probably expecting – maybe even hoping for – it’s not that. You’re gonna have to hang on for that one.

Finally, have 15 random yet significant words from this week’s episode without any context whatsoever: Gaia, Ronald, mother, pierogies, cats, philosophy, target, blind, permission, lockdown, Kool-aid, buffet, gift, trial, choice.

‘Supernatural’ airs Thursday at 8/7c on The CW

[arrantsnowdrop]

A Dangerous Game - Chapter 3 (Theseus Scamander x OC series)

Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2

Summary: When Victoire McKinnon, one of the wizarding world's most proficient curse-breakers, is asked to assist and protect the Ministry of Magic's Auror Department in their crusade against Grindelwald, she finds herself stuck working with the extremely annoying, exceptionally good looking Theseus Scamander.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of violence and death, 2,674 words

..........

“He’s just so rude, Thea, I don’t understand how anyone could be so rude,” Victoire seethed, reaching out to grab a lengthy looking novel from the bookshelf in front of her. She plopped it down on top of the other two books she was already holding.

“He’s probably unnerved,” Anthea Barrows replied reassuringly. The two had been best friends at Hogwarts, both sorted into Gryffindor, both hired by Gringotts right after graduation. Anthea left her position as a Curse-Breaker a year ago to work as a full time professor at the Uagadou School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where she taught the interpretation of ancient runes.

Victoire worked there part time (still being heavily involved in the excavations Gringotts was conducting in Japan), teaching a few classes about ancient magical civilizations.

“I literally cannot deal with him, he somehow gets on every nerve in my entire body,” Victoire admitted, eyes scanning the shelves for any other books that could be of assistance.

Earlier that day, she’d discovered a vase enchanted with a vanishing spell while investigating a case with Theseus; the vase was likely the cause of three seasoned Aurors disappearing spontaneously during an assignment, but unfortunately, Victoire had absolutely no idea how to un-vanish them. She’d apparated to Uagadou immediately after work to search their large library for any helpful material, and Anthea had volunteered to help.

“I’m sure he’s just insecure Travers called in someone for assistance,” Anthea replied calmly, grabbing a book and adding it to her own pile. “He probably would’ve been annoyed with anyone in your position, so don’t take it too personally.”

“It’s like he enjoys making me mad,” Victoire grumbled, turning to face Anthea. “He’s always got this stupid grin on his face, like he knows he’s being a prick.”

“Ooh, he’s teasing you,” Anthea joked, wiggling her eyebrows. Victoire made a gagging noise and grimaced. “Is he hot?”

“Like the fucking sun,” Victoire muttered, picking up a dark blue book and inspecting it closely.

“You always get to work with beautiful men, it simply isn’t fair to me,” Anthea stated, turning around and beginning to walk towards the checkout desk.

“This is literally the first man my age I’ve ever worked with!” Victoire laughed, following her closely.

“Still more than me,” Anthea grinned.

“I’m gonna try to ignore him, though,” Victoire said. “I won’t let him break my resolve.”

“If he’s hot that’ll be pretty much impossible,” Anthea replied honestly. “Is he tall?”

“Yes.”

“Nice hair?”

“Definitely, he’s got that like unruly yet refined look going on, very swoopy,” Victoire remarked.

“Wow, what a catch!” Anthea remarked as they dropped their books on the head librarian’s desk.

“It’s such a pity he’s an asshole,” Victoire said mournfully.

“Oh, Miss McKinnon, it’s so lovely to see you again!” the elderly head librarian said happily, opening the book on the top of the pile to sign it out.

“I’ve only been away for a few days, Mrs. Hinde,” Victoire laughed.

“A few days too many, my dear,” Mrs. Hinde replied, smiling warmly.

“Victoire’s working at the Ministry now, Mrs. Hinde,” Anthea said.

“Is that so?”

“Yea, I’m helping solve a crime, very thrilling stuff,” Victoire added. Mrs. Hinde laughed.

“I would tell you to be careful, but considering what you do for a living, I’m sure you’ll be fine,” the older woman replied.

“I don’t know, fourteen Aurors have gone missing, seems a little risky,” Victoire said honestly.

“And I’m certain you’re far more capable of handling yourself than all fourteen of them,” Mrs. Hinde said genuinely, handing her a list of the books she’d checked out.

“Thank you, Mrs. Hinde,” Victoire replied.

“You just return these whenever you get the chance, dearie, have a lovely time in London!” she called, turning to greet the next library patron.

“I love that woman,” Victoire said to Anthea, sliding the stack of books into her worn bag.

“She’s one of the nicest people here, and that’s saying something, since everyone is nice here,” Anthea reflected. Victoire chuckled and hoisted her bag on her shoulder.

“I shall hopefully return in less than two weeks,” she said in a jokingly posh tone. “Do tend to any affairs that may arise in the meantime.”

“Of course, madame,” Anthea replied in an equally prissy voice, bowing deeply. The pair burst into a fit of quiet laughter and hugged tightly.

“Please be safe, Tor,” Anthea whispered.

“I will,” Victoire reassured, stepping back and offering her friend a bright smile before apparating back to London.

~~~~~

Two days later, Victoire was back in Theseus’s office, still sitting in the maroon armchair in the corner of the room. She had put in a request for her own desk space, which thankfully was granted fairly quickly, and her many books and papers were now scattered over its surface. She’d tried to ignore the remarks Theseus made about her poor organization skills.

“The Revelio Charm can be used to reveal the true appearance of a person who has changed their appearance using magic,” Victoire said, reading out loud from one of the books she had checked out.

Theseus hummed, not looking up from the report he was reading about a recent attack in London. One of Grindelwald’s followers (who unfortunately had not been identified) had murdered five people in broad daylight, two of whom were muggles. The Ministry had been in a tizzy trying to erase the non-magical community’s memory of the event.

“Does entering a state of nonbeing count as changing one’s appearance?” Theseus inquired. Victoire looked up at him, surprised he’d been paying attention.

“I don’t know, but I’m putting it on the list of spells that could possibly work,” she replied, scribbling a few notes down on a messy-looking piece of parchment.

“The three wizards who were killed seem to have nothing in common,” he noted, setting the report aside.

“Is that a good thing?” she asked. He nodded.

“It means they aren’t targeting specific groups of people yet,” he clarified.

“Yet?” Victoire questioned warily. Theseus nodded.

“These attacks are going to get more frequent and more brutal as Grindelwald gains power. It’s only a matter of time before he starts going after different lots of us to incite more fear,” he said dryly.

“Who do you think is most at risk?” she asked softly.

“Aurors,” Theseus said, looking up at her with tired eyes. “But we’ve already been seeing that. Anyone who works with muggles or deals with muggle affairs, or who has something he could use.”

Victoire nodded, sinking further into her seat. Theseus sighed, picking up another report from a stack of unread documents.

“Gringotts has been discussing what we’ll do if Grindelwald attacks,” she said reluctantly, interrupting the silence. Theseus looked up at her, a little surprised, but gestured for her to go on.

“The vaults have a lot of objects we’ve found over the years but haven’t been able to remove curses from,” she continued. “Most of them are under ancient spells we have no written record of, and of course we’re working on undoing the enchantments, but it’s time consuming and difficult.”

Theseus nodded.

“Anyways, we had a meeting a few weeks ago, and the main point was that Grindelwald would probably be able to use many of them to his advantage if he got his hands on them.”

“What are you going to do to prevent that?” Theseus asked genuinely.

“Upping security a lot, starting in a few weeks we’re halting most expeditions and excavations and reassigning people to guard vulnerable sites or the vaults themselves,” Victoire explained.

“And if Grindelwald targets them?”

“We’re supposed to defend them or die trying.”

A pause.

“I’m sorry, it’s not really relevant,” Victoire started, but Theseus shook his head.

“No, don’t apologize, Grindelwald is affecting all of us right now and it’s better to talk about it than try to pretend it isn’t happening,” he said. Victoire nodded, a little shocked he hadn’t criticized Gringotts or curse-breaking yet.

“Are you scared?” he asked.

“About what?”

“The worst possibilities, I guess,” he said, leaning back in his chair.

“I’m not afraid of dying, if that’s what you’re getting at,” she said, biting her lip thoughtfully. “I’ve almost died many times, and I think that’s why I’m not scared of that happening anymore.”

“I’m bloody terrified of dying,” Theseus exclaimed with a laugh. Victoire grinned.

“It’s what might happen if I die that scares me,” she admitted. “I know they’re going to reassign me to guard one of the main vaults, so if I die that means Grindelwald is going to have access to a bunch of dangerous shit. I think that’s terrifying.”

“Could you destroy the items in the vault? Or would that be more dangerous than just letting them be?” Theseus questioned. Victoire shrugged.

“I have moral issues with destroying any of the artifacts, but I don’t think that’s a possibility. Those curses are strong as fuck, regular spells won’t break them,” she said, stretching her arms over her head.

“You swear a lot,” Theseus chuckled.

“Sorry,” Victoire replied, grinning bashfully and redirecting her attention to the book in front of her. Up until this point she hadn’t shared any information about her job or personal life, and she was pleasantly surprised Theseus hadn’t made fun of her.

A comfortable silence fell over the room, interrupted only occasionally by the sound of Theseus’s quill or Victoire flipping a page in her book.

Suddenly, Victoire gasped and stood up abruptly. Theseus’s head shot up, expression laced with concern.

“Holy shit!” she exclaimed, eyes fixed on the book in front of her.

“Are you alright?” Theseus asked seriously. Victoire laughed and nodded, looking up at him with a wide smile on her face.

“Homenum Revelio, or the Human-presence-revealing Spell, can be used to indicate hidden bodies in the surrounding environment to the spell’s caster,” she said excitedly.

“That spell is usually used on people who have made themselves invisible somehow,” Theseus said, quite familiar with Homenum Revelio in his line of work.

“Yes, but it says here that in 1763, someone used it to reveal a person who accidentally cast the vanishing charm on themselves!” she continued, pacing around the room.

“Does it say whether or not that un-vanished the person?” Theseus asked.

“I’m assuming it didn’t, since this spell only shows where hidden things are, rather than unmasking them,” she said, “but this could help us find where the three Aurors’ presences are-”

“And that could help us figure out where to cast the actual revealing spell,” Theseus finished. “That’s genius!”

“I know!” Victoire squealed, jumping around in place. “Now we just have to figure out what spell to use after this one, and we’re basically all set!”

“How do we do that?”

“Since it seems like the event from 1763 is a recorded case, I’m going to try to figure out what they did back then,” she said, spinning around to face Theseus. Her brows knit together in confusion.

“What?” she asked. Theseus tilted his head to the side.

“What do you mean, what?” he asked.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” she clarified.

“I’m not staring at you!” Theseus said defensively.

“You just were!” Victoire accused.

“I most certainly was not!”

“You most certainly were!”

“Oh, fuck off,” Theseus hissed as he looked back down at the papers on his desk, cheeks tinged with a light pink.

Victoire laughed and returned to her seat, setting the book back down on top of her desk.

~~~~~

It was two in the morning. Victoire had read through two books and over twenty ministry reports but had found no information on the case from 1763. She was thoroughly frustrated.

The original footnote referenced a newspaper article that she’d found with ease, but it offered little information and didn’t say whether or not the person was ever un-vanished.

Victoire had discovered that the wizard’s presence was detected near the place the vanishing spell had been cast, meaning the three Aurors would probably be found back at the house on Chester Street. Other than that, she had nothing.

She yawned and stood up from her chair, throwing the report she’d been reading onto the floor haphazardly. Short-Snout hooted cheerfully from where he was resting on Victoire’s bed.

“I’m glad one of us is happy,” she muttered sarcastically, walking to the kitchen for another cup of tea.

She just wanted to finish coming up with a plan as soon as possible. Then, she could get the Ministry’s approval, execute a rescue mission, and move on to the next case. There were eleven more missing Aurors that needed to be found, and though Theseus had become more tolerable to work with, she was beginning to miss her normal job.

Of course, had she not had to work with the Ministry, she’d be on vacation right now. She was still annoyed about that.

The kettle was just starting to boil when Victoire heard something bounce off her window. She jumped, and peered outside cautiously, seeing a large Grey Owl perched on her windowsill with an envelope in its beak.

She shakily opened the window, and the owl hopped inside energetically, dropping the envelope in front of her.

“You just scared the shit out of me,” she said, glaring at the bird sitting on her countertop. She turned the envelope over in her hands and rolled her eyes at the Ministry seal on the back.

She ripped open the letter and shook its contents out onto the island. There were two pieces of paper, one handwritten and the other typed. She picked up the handwritten letter and squinted at it in the dim lighting.

Miss McKinnon-

I had to go through the Ministry Records today after work to find something for a colleague, and I stumbled upon a file I thought you might find interesting. Enclosed is the official report of the 1763 Vanishing Spell mishap, I’m sure you’ll find it useful in your research.

I asked your brother for your address, since you said you wanted to try and finish your analysis of the situation tonight. I figured you’d rather have the report now than wait until tomorrow morning.

Also, sorry in advance for anything my owl knocks over. Bentley has always been a bad houseguest, and you have my permission to throw him out your window if he starts misbehaving. He’ll know to come home and won’t take personal offense.

Cordially,

Theseus Scamander

Victoire found herself grinning by the time she had finished reading Theseus’s letter. She glanced into her bedroom where Bentley and Short-Snout were hopping around on the floor. The larger owl didn’t seem to be causing any ruckus yet, so she figured she’d let him stay for a little while.

She picked up the Ministry report, eyes lighting up when she saw it revealed the end of the case.

“Fuck yes,” she whispered excitedly, grabbing a spare quill from off the counter to underline the many spells the report mentioned.

It seemed the friends of the vanished wizard had tried many different spells to bring him back, but most of them didn’t work. She groaned as she read the list of nonfunctional spells, realizing most of the research she’d done would be ineffective.

As she neared the end of the report, she was beginning to lose hope - perhaps her efforts were futile, perhaps the effects of the Vanishing Spell were truly irreversible.

She bit her lip as she began to read the last paragraph, hoping desperately for some sort of revelation:

In a final attempt to rescue their friend from the state of nonbeing, the wizards asked Professor Ptolemy Algernon, Order of Merlin (First Class) for assistance. Professor Algernon resolved the issue within a matter of seconds; after locating the victim’s presence in the room, he cast a strong Summoning Charm (using the traditional incantation followed by the victim’s name). Following a bright flash of light, the vanished wizard appeared in a fit of coughing and shouting. Medical examiners declared him to be in perfect physical condition, and though he seems undoubtedly traumatized, he is fine otherwise.

Victoire really wanted to be annoyed with her older brother for giving out her address, but all she could think about was how grateful she was for Theseus sending her the report. Finally, she had cracked the case.

~~~~~

“So you’re saying all we need to do is Accio them back into existence?” Theseus asked incredulously as he walked across the Atrium. Victoire, who was at least a foot shorter than him, was nearly jogging to keep up. They had both needed to return the reports they’d checked out, and were now heading back to Theseus’s office.

“Apparently,” she replied, a little breathy due to how fast she was walking. “Ptolemy Algernon was listed in one of the books I had at home, and it seems he used the Summoning Charm to summon people quite often.”

“I thought you couldn’t Accio living things,” Theseus said. “I’m pretty sure that was a question on my O.W.L.s.”

“Then you definitely got that question wrong, there are several records of wizards summoning farm animals during the Middle Ages,” she stated, following him into a lift.

“That would explain why I only got an Acceptable on my Charms O.W.L.,” Theseus chuckled, pressing the button for level two. Victoire grinned, stepping closer to him as several other wizards entered the lift.

“Doesn’t the Ministry want all its Aurors to be more than proficient in their spell-casting abilities?” Victoire teased, swaying slightly as the lift began its ascent.

“Luckily, I got fantastic results on my N.E.W.T.s,” he sassed, reaching out to steady her, “so as far as my employers are concerned, my qualifications are impeccable.” Victoire laughed, looking down to where his hand now rested on her upper arm. He followed her gaze, quickly returning his arm to his side. She felt her face flush, and made sure to keep her face fixed downwards.

The lift slowly came to a halt at level five, and as the doors opened, the rest of the people in the cab filed out.

“What’s going on out there?” Victoire asked as she peered into the open area outside the lift. The Department of International Cooperation seemed more crowded than usual.

“There’s a big meeting in half an hour,” Theseus said simply as the doors closed and the lift took off once again.

“I used to spend all my time there,” Victoire remarked. “Got into a lot of trouble once because one of my brothers and I broke a couch.” Theseus grinned.

“Was this back when your father was the head of the department?” he asked. She nodded.

“I have no idea why he always let us come with him to work, we were the biggest distraction,” she remarked.

“Your brother used to go on and on about all the trips he took here back when we were in Hogwarts,” Theseus added, laughing a little at the memory.

“Emrys?”

“Yea, we were in the same year,” he replied.

“Ah, so you graduated before I started my first year,” she said as the doors opened.

“And you would’ve been a few years ahead of my younger brother, Newt,” he added, stepping out of the lift and glancing back to make sure Victoire was following him.

“I remember Newt!” she said enthusiastically as she followed him down the hallway. “He tested into my Care of Magical Creatures class during my fifth year, and we all loved him.”

“He wrote me a letter about that, he was really proud he got to be in your class as a third year,” Theseus added.

“He had better grades than all of us,” she added. “I remember having to ask him for help on a number of occasions.”

“I did the same with your brother,” Theseus said, slowing his pace so he was walking next to her rather than in front of her. “Emrys is the only reason I passed Potions class my fifth year.”

“My brothers are both insanely good at brewing and understanding potions,” she nodded.

“It must run in your family, considering your aunt,” Theseus remarked as they approached the door to his office. He was referring to her Aunt Maeve, a potioneer specializing in healing potions at St. Mungo’s.

Like half of the wizards in her family, Maeve McKinnon was internationally acclaimed for her work. For centuries, the McKinnon family had a reputation as one of the most powerful and influential wizarding families in Europe, which had definitely been intimidating to think about when Victoire was younger. Luckily, her parents had done a great job of emphasizing their children that they would be proud of them no matter what, so over time, that pressure had faded. Now, McKinnon was just her last name, not some expectation to accomplish great things.

And yet, unintentionally, Victoire and her siblings had gone on to continue the so-called “McKinnon legacy.” Her oldest brother, Emrys, was an Unspeakable in the Department of Mysteries, her other older brother, Thomas, was one of the chasers for the Kenmare Kestrels, and she had become one of the most talked-about Curse-Breakers of the century. Their names would be added to the lists of the greatest McKinnon wizards.

“I was excluded from the ‘skilled-at-potions’ genes, then,” Victoire laughed. “I wrote home too many times asking for money to buy a new cauldron. My mother nearly celebrated when I dropped the class in sixth year.”

“Were you the type to burn a hole in the bottom of your cauldron or to just blow it up somehow?” Theseus asked as he opened the door to his office, gesturing for her to go in before him.

“Explosions were my forte,” she joked as she walked past him. She plopped down into the chair behind her desk, looking up at him as he closed the door.

“Speaking of your brothers,” he said as he walked over to his desk, “I wanted to apologize for asking Emrys for your address, I just wanted you to get the report as soon as possible and didn’t know another way to contact you.”

“No, it’s fine,” she reassured him. “I was already awake and stressing about the fact I couldn’t find any information on the case, so it was a very welcome interruption.”

“I hope Bentley didn’t cause any trouble,” he said, a small smile on his face.

“No, Bentley was very well behaved. I think my own owl kept him occupied for the majority of his visit,” she said. Theseus laughed.

“So, Mr. Scamander, what do we do next?” Victoire asked.

“We write up a summary of what we’re planning to do, including all the research we’ve done to show the plan will actually work,” he said as he walked over to his desk. “Then we send it off to Travers and hope he approves it.”

“What happens if he doesn’t approve it?” Victoire asked curiously.

“He tells us we’re both idiots and we come up with another plan,” Theseus said with a small grin on his face.

“And if he does approve it?”

“We go back to the house on Chester Street and un-vanish those Aurors.”

[Tags: @littleyellowladybugg @missjockey101 @hearteyesmotherclucker @mrshazosterfield @greeneyedthief ]

A/N: It's our SECOND EVER Theseus Thursday. Look at me actually following a proper updating schedule, who would've thought we'd ever see this day? Hopefully I'll have another oneshot fic up this weekend, and then another chapter of this next week - lots of content! If you wanna request something specific please do so (LOTR, Harry Potter, Fantastic Beasts, Star Wars, I'll write for most fandoms, really). Otherwise, I hope you enjoy/enjoyed reading this, and have a great day! :)

[sensual-kiss]

A Pleasant Target.

Warnings: 18+, foul languages, unprotected sex, MINORS DO NOT READ.

Written by 𝐂𝐘𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄

The vast ballroom was filled with hedonists, masks covering their pompous facades, and champagnes on their hands. The light was dimly lit. A piece of jazz music could be heard as some people swayed on the dance floor. Couples were dancing romantically, and bodies pressed to one another. Ellerie rolls her eyes at the sight, scoffing as she scans around the room for her target. She was sent by her father to dig up information about the new lad that just move into town. She was only given a name by her father, without any specific detail about this lad. She knows the task was going to be hard when she entered the ballroom.

Elle was dressed in a strapless red dress with a slit that reaches her upper thigh with strappy heels in the same color—sauntering across the room through the sea of people in her dress—sporadically eavesdropping to conversations that might contain information about her target or at least a lead to him. Being a pro at what she does, she is always sly and careful about her actions. Not to mention that she can feel eyes land on her. A group of middle-aged men was eyeing her from head to toe. Elle almost scoffs when she notices them. ‘Like you can handle me.’ She thought, clearly making fun of those filthy men.

Standing in a corner, she watched them again with eagle eyes. She was trying to spot this so-called host. ‘How is it so hard to find him when he’s the fuckin’ host?’ she thought. As she quarreled with herself, a butler walked near her and offered her champagnes. She needs one now. She shrugs and reaches for a glass. Elle continues to eye the crowd as she takes a sip of the champagne. The taste was refreshing as she started to get stressed by the task at her hand. Her eyes scan the room until her eyes meet with his eyes, a blue one, almost as blue as hers. He was leaning on the bar, clad in a tuxedo just like everyone else. She couldn’t recognize him as he was wearing a mask just like her and everyone else. Was he somebody that she knew?

His eyes were locked on her; one corner of his lips was pulled into a charming smirk as he raised his glass in a toast. She diverted her attention toward another place as she tried to focus back on her assignment. It was probably just another guy who wanted her to dance with him. The room feels stuffy all of a sudden. Elle decides to go outside and take a breath of the crisp night air. Her journey leads her to a garden, a beautiful garden filled with roses. There’s not much light except for the shining moon and a little garden lamp. The breeze was relaxing as she thinks through the task she was given. Was it because her father knows that this new lad in town was very unreachable that she sent her to lobby people to learn about him? She will tell her father to be more specific when giving her a task in the future. After gulping down the rest of her champagne, she pivoted her body towards the way where she came from. But a man standing in her way startled her. Elle does not get scared quickly. However, this man walks like a cat. She doesn’t even hear him at all.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” The lad offers her a charming smile that made her remember the lad near the bar. It was him. He was indeed even more attractive up close. It is weird for Elle to get tongue-tied, but his presence affected her so much.

“Oh, how rude of me. I’m Brandon, and you are milady?” His smile was genuine, but his eyes hide something that intrigued her to unravel it.

“Brandon? Williams? So, you’re the host?” She cannot hide the shock that adorned her facade. She was expecting a nasty middle-aged man, but he was definitely out of her expectation.

“Yes, and I think I haven’t got your name yet.”

“Ellerie. I have been looking for you all night.” She teases, an innocent smile etched on her lips. Hoping that her confession will intrigue the lad.

“Have you now? You didn’t seem very interested earlier.” Elle was getting bothered by his insanely attractive smirk.

“I am now.” The dominant vibe he was emitting intimidated her, but she won’t show it, of course.

“Let me show you around?” Brandon offers his arm to Ellerie with an endearing smile etched on his facade. Elle accepted the offer, letting him lead the way to wherever he intended on taking her. She keeps contemplating if she should ask him questions and gain the information her father needed, but a glance at him and her mind went blank. What is he doing to her? How is he even capable of affecting her this much?

--

The pair have been walking together for some time now. Brandon showed her his mansion, which was enormous but nothing foreign to her. After all, she grew up in a manor similar to this one. The hallway was empty. The sounds of music from where the party is held were barely audible. And before she grasps in their situation, her back was pressed to a wall nearby, and his lips were on hers. She kisses him back with the same fervor, arms circling themselves on his neck as she felt his arms wrapping around her slim waist, pressing their bodies together, leaving no space in between them.

She pulls away, taking an intake of oxygen as his lips chase for hers, making Elle smirk slyly. She got him hooked. “Shall we take this somewhere private?” He asked her, gasping a little, his hands grasping her waist. “Please do lead the way, sir.” Elle grins at him before he kisses her one last time, then pulling at her hand softly.

Elle was facing the door, leaning her body back against Brandon’s sturdy one as he attacked her neck. Leaving wet kisses from her jawline to her shoulder. She couldn’t resist the moan that slips her lips. Giggling when his stubble tickles her. When they finally made it inside the room, he slammed and locked the door. Taunting her like how a predator taunts its prey.

He shoved her to the soft mattress, pressing his body on top of hers while littering kisses on her. Elle’slegs wrap themselves around his waist, grinding up against him as she cups his jawline and maneuvers his lips to hers.

A whine slips past Elle’s swollen red lips as he keeps teasing her. “Stop teasing me!” She scowls at him. His charming smirk was back on his lips, etched proudly as he holds himself on top of her, his elbows supporting his weight. “Impatient little thing, aren’t you? Don’t worry, little one, I’ll take good care of you.” Brandon’s hands reached for Elle’s dress, hiking it up and ripping her panties off. Elle submits herself to him, moaning when she feels his rigid shaft nudging at her core.

“Plea—” Elle doesn’t even finish the word coming out of her lips as she felt him push his member inside of her. Screaming as he stretched her to her limit. Brandon kisses Elle to shut her up, tongue battling for dominance. Thrust after thrust, Elle was reaching her climax as she begged for him. “I’m close. . . Ahh fuck!! Brandon!” She signaled at him. Brandon’s thrust picked up its pace as Elle reached her climax, her manicured nails scratching at his back, leaving red lines along his back. She can feel him reaching his peak, grunting with a rough voice as he slowed his pace after he finishes inside of her.

“If you haven’t realized it, you’re mine now,” Brandon said, panting, as he laid on his back beside her. “I belong to no one, Brandon.” She chuckles at his confidence. Neither of them planned to become friends after this, but the universe said otherwise. Romantic relationships were not on their agenda, but a stress reliever won’t hurt anyone.

Ellerie and Brandon develop friends with benefits relationship after their first meeting. Gradually becoming each other’s best friend.

[silverypurple-rosedlions]

I love the Chapter Unlocks and reading Seokmin's Chapter- Chapter Two? OFBEJFH I cried- But these are incredible! How did you come up with the three known/unlocked Chapters? (Jeonghan's Chapter One, and Seokmin's Chapter One and Two)

Admin Moon: Ah, this is an interesting question! Buckle up everyone, because this might be a long one, haha . . . Like, a reaaally long one.

Countless things inspired me to make everyone's chapters: music, research I've gone through related to mental illnesses and physical illnesses, little scenarios I've dealt with in real life, scenes, movies, and fanfictions, and the list goes on. Sometimes, images and gifs help me, allowing me to paint the main picture of each chapter that correlates to the member. Let's use Seokmin's Chapter Unlock, Chapter Two - Intoxicated, as an example.

With Seokmin's Chapter originally, I had no plan for him to be involved with drugs. That would apply to one member and one member only. The original idea for him involved a breaking point he would need to face, forcefully, seen within the chapter where Seokmin would lose control and attack viciously, to defend himself. But what would trigger him wasn't drugs. Instead, it was going to be a moment in his life when it was his family that triggered it. Fortunately, and I mean it, it was scratched off, and I revised the entire chapter, changing it to what is known now.

It converts to drugs because it's inspired by Billie Eilish's song, Xanny. It's referenced when Seokmin says that "Xanny" was used as another name for the drug, Xanax. If you listen to the song, certain lines within it are in the chapter. The chorus in Xanny is:

"I'm in their secondhand smoke, Still just drinking canned Coke, I don't need a Xanny to feel better, On designated drives home, Only one who's not stoned, Don't give me a Xanny, now or ever,"

Immediately, you can look back and see that this was portrayed in his chapter. Seokmin was around people smoking, taking drugs, and drinking while he's there, "sitting just drinking canned coke." Then in the chapter, Seokmin wants to go home and requests Mimi to take him home, a person "designated" to bring them home as she is the only one among the two with a driver's license. And of course, Seokmin is the "only one who's not stoned," and refuses to take a Xanny, saying that he doesn't want it and never will. This lyric is obvious, "Don't give me a Xanny, now or ever."

Just like in Seokmin's Chapter, a section in his life where he refuses taking drugs and alcohol, Billie Eilish's song also talks about refusing Xanax and telling people to avoid drugs. Period.

Now, not everything from the song is the same, word for word, within his chapter, such as the lyric mentioning kissing. That's not in his chapter, nor is it mentioned when he blacks out, attacking viciously (this is towards one specific friend of mine who misunderstood-).

Another good example is the first verse of Xanny:

"What is it about them? I must be missing something, They just keep doing nothing, Too intoxicated to be scared, Better off without them, They're nothing but unstable, Bring ashtrays to the table, And that's about the only thing they share,"

In Seokmin's Chapter, although it's not a long part, he questions why is it fun and games to them and so on, "What is it about them? I must be missing something." He goes on to explain why they're taking this, which is depression and anxiety, leading them to be "too intoxicated to be scared," and then wants nothing to do with them, "Better off without them, they're nothing but unstable," And of course, when Mimi is sharing a cigarette. It's clear, "Bring ashtrays to the table, and that's about the only thing they share,"

Not only this, but I wanted Seokmin to have this different and darker backstory that contrasts with his bright and energetic personality. It is a little of a cliche, to be honest. However, I wanted his backstory to be the reason why he's the way he is now, just like any of the bots I have. I want his backstory to be the reason he wants to be a bright and chirpy person, someone who likes to portray a happy but unsettling aura. Aside from three, perhaps more, bots, Seokmin is a very complex person. He likes to surprise people, keeping his deepest mysteries and thoughts to himself but is willing to expose them if asked to, or he wants to on the spot. He will play the part of being innocent and naive, he'll be reckless and excessive, and just about anything as long as it throws people off of who he is, using that to his advantage.

Now, Jeonghan's a challenge to explain since there's only one Chapter Unlock so far. And if I am not too careful, I may accidentally give hints of what his chapters will possibly be. However, Jeonghan is the MOST complicated here, and that may just be my opinion. But when going through his entire story, he was beyond difficult. Various research and videos watched, I had to study body movements, reactions, and so on that would fit for him, and even had assistance from a small group of friends. There are about a million things that inspired this backstory for him and how he is now.

For example, let's dive into Jeonghan's Chapter Unlock. It's shorter compared to Seokmin's, but that's on purpose. I usually like to make them reasonably lengthy, being able to give the reader themselves more of an experience that this person is facing. But for this, because Jeonghan has a different spectrum, I had to limit myself.

When reading his Chapter Unlock, he's allowing you to enter into this world he sees in his head. You, the reader, are presented this image of his mind, this "labyrinth," he's in and always has been. It's excruciatingly long and deceitful, the exit is nowhere to be seen, the stairs spiral from one space to another, and he's the target for this big, looming door of what is his insanity. The rose door is what opens him to a new headspace, throwing away the morals he knew, and creates an entirely new person who casts a shadow to his younger self that was too damaged to continue. When opening this door, this is the exit. It's an exit from the person he used to be and builds himself anew with shattered pieces of who he was, forging someone deadly.

For now, let's focus on this: Labyrinth. Surprisingly, there is no other thing that inspired this idea but three main things. One is the vast majority of songs. It is insane how many songs I have listened to that were included for him, and not just this one chapter, but for him in general. For this chapter, it's scattered pieces of songs: Psycho by Byun Baekhyun, Twisted by MISSIO, I'm Gonna Show You Crazy by Bebe Rexha, Angry Too by Lola Blanc, Hey Little Girl by Sophiemarie.b, and small traces of Broken by Lund. If you look at each song, you may be able to find similarities that correlate to them, but not entirely. Second, the idea of this labyrinth was inspired by, dare I say, Labyrinth and Pan's Labyrinth.

NOW HOLD ON!

I know that's the craziest thing I would get that idea from those two movies. Now, I didn't watch Pan's Labyrinth till late this 2020, but it was just one word, and I swear to God it is. "Labyrinth." That's it. I know it's ridiculous, but I'm dead serious that I thought of creating a labyrinth from the title name. Then there's the movie, Labyrinth, made in 1986. I watched that when I was little, maybe seven years ago, and I was always fascinated with the scene where the girl, Sarah, is in this labyrinth to save her baby brother. Sarah is in this bizarre area, face to face with the Goblin King, running in all directions with stairs everywhere. She runs, and she's suddenly upside down, she continues, and suddenly she's on the right side of the wall, so on so on. The stairs are placed upside down, and so on. It was that illusion that I thought I should add within his mind that's a complicated maze, containing fragments of memories and delusions created from stress.

Lastly, the third is me. I'll admit right now that Jeonghan was originally an outlet for me, someone I related to personality-wise, and then took it from there. This labyrinth idea is also a replication of my headspace before I got better (Quick heads-up: This entire idea for them was made a year ago, back in late October or so). I used what I saw of my headspace, changed it, altering it to what would become Jeonghan's headspace, but bigger and more complex than mine.

With all of this, images such as places, the people themselves, and other such things are what drives this. Aside from me as a writer, a person who absolutely loves writing, without these things, this wouldn't exist.

Admin Moon: So, I hope this answers your question, anon!

🥀// @yourlocal-babybear @aikihades @sophie-svt-13 @waitingwhispers60 @seventeen-chatbot @kpop-shelter @yangomangos @m00n-nim96 @ghoulxbaekhyun @moonlit-jaemin @empress-jiaqi @time-for-confession @xash-axx @fnafnctdream-chatbot @split-jiu @artsydahyun @softdommechungha @princess-yeji @werewolf-sehun @julia-oc [DM for +/-]

[nijikato]

I only see a handful of you guys still following me and I openly know I’m doing a shitty thing by using the tags, but I want this out there. You guys have the right to know what happened to me. Using past tense for everything, so lord knows who I’m talking about.

I think we should discuss why people left the group. I will not be giving any names, characters or direct proof. The admins have this proof. It has all been turned over from what I have gathered. If you guys don’t listen to me, that’s fine. If you guys ignore me, that’s fine. If you guys think I’m a bitch, that’s fine. Opinions are meant to be formed by yourself and only yourself.

And that is going to be the thesis to my statement. There was an admin that would express their opinions on muses, fcs, fandom shit and other topics while in a position of power that made it near impossible to disagree with them and created a toxic and systematic bullying culture. Some things this admin did is as follows but not limited to: making fun of people's applications to other members, making fun of specific groups of fc's, putting people into awkward positions either due to ethnicity or relation to another person within the rp, shit talking other people's characters while as admin, shit talking other muns as admin etc.

The reason why I left is because an admin told another member that she was scared of me coming to them with the intensions of laughing or making fun of my intensity. I am autistic. I do not hide this fact. Anyone who has talked to me knows that I bring it up so people know to be patient. When I am upset, like I am now, I speak extremely stilted. It is like this in person, too. Going to another member while you are the admin with the intentions of talking smack about someone going to them is inappropriate.

Me going to the admins about this is why I left the group. Not to mention that this admin has talked down about other muses to people while they were admin.

Now, what was I coming to them about? The fact that multiple people KPop FC’s felt like we were not being responded to. I try my best to reply to any and all starters on any of my characters, especially when I noticed I was replying to the same few people. It happens. You make friends with people you like to write with. But I was ignoring new people. I notice that this bubble was happening with multiple friend group and I just wanted to let the main know that multiple people were having this problem, too, not just me.

It’s no big deal. We are all guilty of this at some point or another within an RP. IT happens. But we were shrugged off and told that it was not happening. And then we were called out within the OOC post which was then targeting us as the people who went to the admins.

The admin who created this culture is still within the group despite multiple evidences coming forward about what they did, what they would say and general toxicity that came from them.

Vesta can do better. The muns in this group can do better. I have no ill feelings towards anyone within this group.

To anyone I hurt since I was also complicit within this culture, I am sorry. If you want a formal apology, please come to me and let me know what I have done and I will reflect and give you my whole heart. I sometimes don’t catch social cues and that is on me. I want to make right on it. I openly know that I might not have been nice in my DM's with her and it took until it happened to me to realize what I was doing was unacceptable. But I'm going to do my part in ending this culture.

Anyways, this has been Angela.

Thanks for reading for those who have read.

EDIT: the asks are open if you have any.

[inserttemptitlehere]

An unasked for “moderate” take on TERFs v Trans rights

Nobody asked, I might get cancelled for this (probably by both sides), and honestly I don’t have much belief that this will even be read by many people. But it’s frustrating seeing people being condemned for reasonable fears and requests and I just feel the need to put my opinions out into the ether just to have them out there and so I can stop dwelling on them every time I see stuff like this happen again. 

Like, I just want to slap all the TERFs that purposefully misgender people and spout transphobic rhetoric. And I want to shake everyone who labels anything that complains about misogyny specific to cis women as TERF-y. God.

It seems like many “TERFs” are not actively malicious (although many definitely are), but are merely women who’ve been sexually assaulted or just been ground down by the patriarchy and are understandably (although not necessarily justifiably) scared/upset at the thought of any person with a male body coming into their safe spaces or into their fought for institutions. Whereas most trans people just want to live their lives and be accepted as the gender they identify as without wanting to cause any harm to anyone (although again, there are some they definitely do). 

I personally found much of JK Rowling’s recent essay to be fear mongering, but given that she suffered abuse from her husband I could understand and sympathize with why she had those fears even though I disagree with her conclusions about the actions society/government should take regarding them. I honestly just feel sad for her. I feel sad that the experiences she’s been through have made her so scared. I feel sad that despite the millions of dollars she’s donated to charity and work she’s done to make the world a better place she has now hurt so many people and this action will be what she’s remembered for. I feel sad that the extremely angry responses she’s gotten will most likely only solidify her fear and perpetuate her actions that will most likely cause more hurt for more people.

I’ll also say that her original tweet that sparked it all was valid! It is dehumanizing to reduce people to their genitals (ironically something people say TERFs do) and it erases the fact that almost all of these people are targeted because they are women. And it feels somewhat sexist as I’ve never seen an article refer to a certain group as “penis havers” or “semen producers”. I can, however, still see how it would be exclusive however to only refer to “people who menstruate” as “women”. A better wording would’ve been “women and trans men”. Because then no one would be left out. And don’t @ me about that somehow leaving out ‘trans women’, because guess what, there are cis women who don’t menstruate! If we can recognize that “Not all men” is a bad take, why on earth are we accepting “Not all women” as a correct one?

Look, not all cis women menstruate. Not all cis women can or do become pregnant. But we still label these as generic ‘women’s issues’ because they affect a large portion of women. But it should go both ways! I believe that makes the gross femininity trans women need to perform to qualify for hormones a ‘women’s issue’ and the difficulty of getting insurance to cover said hormones a ‘women’s issue’. Because they’re issues that affects a large portion of women. Heck, I know most Transmen find the fact that some TERFs include them in their feminism irritating, but I’m also fine with including specific issues affecting the ones that don’t feel that way as ‘feminist issues’.

I am 100% against misgendering people, am 100% supportive of including trans women’s specific issues as part of the overall fight to help women, and I will happily state “transwomen are women”. But, I do agree that there are a handful of cis women spaces/institutions that it becomes morally grey to accept transwomen into without any sort of provisions. Especially given the fact that if there were absolutely zero strings attached to legally identifying a certain way, then there are definitely cis people who would abuse the system. Personally, I don’t think we should completely structure our society based on these fears - although I can again understand the people who have not had as privileged of a life as I have feeling differently (even if I ultimately disagree with them).

Anyway my take on said spaces/institutions:

Bathrooms: Single parents of opposite sexed kids already use the opposite gendered bathroom to teach them how to use it (and should be allowed to). If a cis man wants to rape you in a bathroom that you’re alone in, I don’t think the societal norms are really going to stop him. And since trans people just want to use the bathroom in peace, let them. Maybe it’s because I’ve never felt comfortable peeing in public and thus never felt the bathroom to be a ‘safe space’, but I’ve never understood the argument against this.

Changing rooms: Go where you identify. If you start acting like a creep, then there should be some course of action to either get you banned or limit your access to said changing room. That policy should hold for cis or trans people.

Women’s support groups: Already made my opinion on this clear I hope. Although I will say that if talk about certain genitalia/bodily functions is triggering, it’s not right to shut down all discussion regarding those things for the other people there. Instead we should have, you know, trigger warnings so that everyone can either prepare themselves accordingly or leave the room and no one is triggered or feels like they are unable to talk about their issues.

Rape shelters: It is 100% valid for a cis woman that was a victim of rape to not want to share their space with someone with a working penis. If there is absolutely nothing that can be done to make said person feel safe, then it should be the right of the shelter to refuse long term stay to the person causing that issue (through no fault of their own) - although the shelter should do everything it can to make sure the trans woman has a place to stay/go. On the other hand, if a trans woman was already there before such a victim, it would not be right to toss out the trans woman to grant access to the cis woman who has the problem with them.

Sports: I personally don’t know enough of the science behind it, but it seems to me that bare minimum they shouldn’t be allowed to compete without doing hormone therapy. And even then the skeletal differences and remaining hormonal differences may still prevent things from being reasonably fair (although I wouldn’t know). It’s definitely not fair to let a trans person pre-hormones compete on the team their gender matches with. Honestly, in an ideal world we’d somehow have an objective way to sort sports into co-ed groups based on athletic ability similar to how weight classes work for wrestling.

Prisons: Non violent crime? Go where you identify. Violent crime? Sorry, gotta go based on your sex (unless you’ve had bottom surgery). It is immoral to lock a convicted rapist with a penis in a cell with women who have no way of getting away from them. I mean, maybe we could have ‘wings’ for trans people so they could go to the prison they identify as and they’d just have separate cells. But until that becomes the norm, the few violent trans criminals should not be allowed to go where they identify.

Kids: Not an institution, but definitely a hot topic. Personally, I think only puberty blockers until they hit adulthood and extensive therapy to make sure that they are in fact trans. Admittedly JK Rowling’s essay about this bit sounded a bit like, “The spooky trans cult is coming for your neurodivergent and gay children!” But it did have small feeling of truth to it as well. As a GNC, cis, autistic woman who had dysphoria as a teen I also worry that I might have been incorrectly diagnosed as trans if I’d been born later. But I don’t think it’s something we as a society need to be extremely worried about or use as an excuse to make things harder on trans kids and adults. We just need to make sure that kids get the therapy they need to sort out whether they’re trans or just having the common dysphoria you have as a teen and chafing against gender roles. We can rubber stamp adults if they want, it’s only kids that should have to go through some minor hoops.

Finally, on being “Gender Critical”. I have to say, the idea of smashing the concept of gender and everybody just living as they are with no societal expectations for them to be one way or another based loosely on their biological sex sounds wonderful. I’m just upset that so many who support this concept are so transphobic because technically in that future there would be no ‘trans’ people (except those that suffer dysphoria) and they feel this gives them the right to act horribly towards trans people. I did recently talk to some TRAs who explained to me that, unlike ‘Gender Critical’ proponents, their ‘gender’ model is split into multiple components. That you’ve got your biological sex (your parts), your gender identity (what you feel you are), your gender presentation (how you dress and act), and gender roles (how society expects you to act based on your gender). So it seems to me, that we can still reach a version of that wonderful future that doesn’t erase people. Smashing gender roles and the idea that there is a ‘correct’ way to present as a gender would achieve ‘female liberation’ while still allowing for people who still desire to identify a certain way. We shouldn’t completely do away with gender, just the things that society expects from it. 

[secretgamergirl]

Abuse I’ve just had to sit with forever

Right now I can’t look anywhere without seeing people speaking up about abusive monsters in various positions of power and it’s really triggering a lot of PTSD for me about all the times I’ve been in positions like that where nobody has ever listened or tried to help so... I’m just going to rattle off all the ones that come to my head, anonymously, and I don’t know, if anyone who knows me wants to ask me about any of these and/or try to really do something to help, maybe come talk to me about it through whatever private channel we talk in sometimes.

Family stuff. There’s a lot, and there’s no real way to talk about any of it anonymously because I mean being members of my family it’s already narrowed down way too much.

Someone once put me in the temporary care of a woman who savagely beat me because her own children were making too much noise when they should have been asleep. Bad enough that when I went back to school I was almost ripped out of my home by child protective services on the assumption that’s where it happened. Oh and she also force-fed me rotten food with maggots in it. I ended up pretty sick as a result, lost a whole lot of weight, and ended up with a serious eating disorder that’s plagued me since. I did eventually get out of there but I don’t know that I’ve ever really conveyed the full extend of it.

One of that woman’s children had some sort of torture kink, very nearly killed me, did put me in the hospital from injuries, and might have raped me. Hard to say because I was like... 7? Hard to translate those memories now that I have the context and vocabulary. I tried to explain that to anyone who’d listen at the time but, again, I didn’t have the vocabulary and I don’t think it came across that like... ropes and tools were involved, not just fists. Never got into that with therapists, because the first one I had really loved playing gatekeeper with trans stuff and liked the “maybe you just think you’re a girl because of abuse as a child” line of thinking too much already. I think I heard he eventually landed in prison though, so that’s something?

The first job I ever had. Games website. I was too young to be working but nobody ever thought to ask about it, and my family needed the extra income to avoid homelessness besides. The owner of the site... was really into open sexual roleplay in workplace text chats. I was so young and weirdly sheltered that I didn’t even process that that was even a thing, and 90% of it went straight over my head, plus I was in a weird state at the time with the whole trans thing where oh yeah, if anyone’s doing any roleplaying stuff on the internet, I’ll be in the character of me-but-a-girl but everything is pretend here right? So... there was a whole lot of mounting and thrusting being described and it took a few years to sink in that that was not in fact about him pretending to be a knight with me as a horse or something. And there was also a lot of... failing to pay me for years of backbreaking work, outright stealing from me, and I mean, I was up until like 4 AM every night working while still in high school. So, yeah. that was a lot. Never told anybody about any of this. So far as I know he still runs the site and nobody’s ever confronted him about anything.

Used to try to play various RPGs with some people in this extra niche-y game space. Sort of the first place I was ever read as a woman without offering anyone “corrections.” And... there was just this one guy who whenever he was GMing had some weird creative excuse for my character (usually the only woman in the party) to... be raped and/or impregnated just all of the sudden and totally out of left field. Which everyone was OK with somehow. And when he wasn’t GMing he was all over my character of course. Never really spoke up to anyone. I just left one day.

Ended up... in the inner circle of someone very famous. Mostly famous for being a victim of abuse. Which is why I ignored... every single red flag there is that someone is an abusive person and taking advantage of everyone around them. They controlled every aspect of my life for years. Had me do a whole lot of work for them, place myself in real physical and psychological danger, regularly. Directly asked me to severe ties with most people in my life. Install kill-switch sortware on my laptop for their piece of mind that none of our conversations would ever be seen by anyone, while also making me talk only in privately managed chat services where they logged everything and my screen wiped at regular intervals, and insisting I use an untraceable alias in it. All of this I was constantly assured was for my own safety as much as theirs, somehow, and that I was their most valued friend who they would keep safe, start paying a huge salary to soon, as well as help secure me a safe place to live and get properly started on medical transition stuff that I was unable to do in the increasingly unsafe place I was living at the time. I could keep going with this, but again, I don’t want anyone playing guessing games. Eventually, as serial abusers do, this person got sick of me, cast me out, and said presumably unspeakable things about me to everyone in that social circle, because everyone quite promptly cut all ties to me without a word. I once mentioned some small fraction of this publicly in defense of... multiple people attempting suicide as a result of this person’s abuse, and it was made very, very clear to me that this is not someone I will ever be able to safely speak about in public.

Another person who is very famous, with ties to abuse prevention stuff, added me to a blacklist to kill my career prospects and then kinda put a hit out on me on a neo-nazi website, but I’ve written about that incident. Nothing happened as a result of speaking out aside from the violence I was already being subjected to ramping up and more people cutting ties with me. Oh and those who didn’t are still quite friendly with her.

Several women with ties to... dangerous people randomly got it into their heads several years ago that I posed some sort of threat to someone I am told they “feel very protective towards” and... unleashed a hell on me unlike anything I have ever seen. I have spent the past 6 years now dealing with death threats from far right terrorist organizations who in some cases have very sizeable body counts, and those groups don’t scare me anywhere near as much as these people. Anyone else I have seen them paint a target on completely withdrew from the internet their careers and any sort of public life to try and stay off their radar. I have had multiple people privately confide in me that they had been threatened never to speak to me again before proceeding to make good on that. I have individually thrown myself at the mercy of every single one of them, explained that I have absolutely no ill will towards any of them, and had never even heard of this person they’re “protecting” before they started coming after me. Nothing has worked. They’ve never stopped. I’m legitimately afraid someone connected to them is going to murder me some day, and I don’t know what to do. I’ve confided in all of maybe 3 people about this. One might be dead, one is a total hermit, the third briefly tried supporting me, received threats, and promptly retracted everything, replacing it with a fire and brimstone speech about how I am an evil monster who tricked them. I have regular nightmares about this, and collapse into a shivering heap just seeing any of their names mentioned.

I... spent a good deal of time in social contact with a person I have been told I need to be friends with to advance in a career I would like to pursue. While doing so, he sabotaged a project that was fairly important to me, and I saw some him mistreat someone else in ways I find quite disturbing, but that’s her story to tell and not mine. I don’t feel comfortable around him, and have no real choice but to give up on those dreams. Haven’t really discussed this anywhere. The sort of work I can get would definitely vanish completely if I did.

The sort of work I can get also involves working for a variety of companies with people very high up the ranks who have seriously harmed a number of people I consider to be very good friends, in ways that in some cases include sexual abuse, and I... really would prefer not to ever work for anyone employing such people now that I am aware of this.

Yet another famous person, but one who I feel perfectly comfortable naming, Graham Linehan, used to follow me on social media with a level of enthusiasm that could arguably be better referred to as stalking. Then later he joined some extremist anti-trans hate group and rose to the top pretty quickly. And some years after that, it finally sank in that worshiping a trans woman while also leading a group of people bent on killing us all, so he has been very loudly and very publicly rambling about his hatred for me specifically. I don’t really have to speak up about this one because he’s doing plenty of that on his end, but I do have to note that while this famous person terrorizing me hasn’t really earned me any sort of public defense or sympathy, it has encouraged a whole lot of people to invent an alternate timeline of events where I am directly responsible for him being a bigot, leading to me getting dangerous threats from both horrible bigots and people who claim to hate horrible bigots but have suspiciously poor aim.

Hey speaking of celebrities, one of the stars of Firefly used to regularly send me photos of violently distended testicles. One of the stars of Star Trek once posted something encouraging millions of social media followers to attack me and left it up for a weekend. One of the producers of World of WarCraft once threatened to sue me for libel and went on a big PR tour about it, speaking on podcasts and such, and so many fascists pretending to be journalists have dumped so much crap on me...

And not to long ago in something of a wacky mixup, someone ELSE rather famous, who does diversity consulting no less, confused me for someone else and cut loose with a horrific bit of hate and gossip and throwing me under the bus, and misgendering me, saying random harassers baselessly calling me a pedophile were probably onto something. Privately told a handful of people about that, because I thought she was a friend and that was so heartbreaking, but anyone I told is just pretending not to have seen it.

Someone was once offering me help because I was in a dangerous situation, financially. I explained that things had been extra hard since coming out as trans. Suddenly he goes from helpful and concerned to just... violent. Screaming a me, openly trying to chase me out of the space we were both in. I reported this to the proper people. They tried talking, he left. The whole community mourned the loss and wondered who could have driven him off. Still doesn’t feel like a safe place for me.

I don’t really know why I’m bothering with all of this. Nobody is actually going to help. I’d say nobody is actually going to read this, but I’m sure plenty of people who hate me will to see if I’m talking about them and use it as justification to make things worse. Plus some people I’m not talking about I’m sure. I get plenty of that all the time.

Nothing ever helps and you can’t ever win. If you try to keep the abusers appeased by not outing them, the abuse never stops. If you try to speak up, their fans and friends treat it like declarations of war and pile on. If you just try to be there for other people when they’re being abused, you get singled out as a “troublemaker” and added to hit lists and black lists and... nothing works.

I don’t want a lot out of life. I want to know I have enough food, and have a place to live where I’m not at risk of dying from either temperature extreme, a bathroom, enough room for my book shelves, a bed, a couch, a dinner table, and a yoga mat. Maybe a space where my cats can run around a little enclosed semi-outdoor area for the fresh air and sun. I want to be able to deal with my medical problems. I want to see and talk to friends sometimes. If I’m really greedy, I’d like to have all that for a particular friend too who I’m constantly worrying about dying of poverty. And I’d like to be able to work on games. Maybe play them sometimes. Maybe watch things.

And that’s the really messed up part. Because abusive people and people supporting the structures of abuse always say they just want to focus on getting work done, or having fun, and it’s a lie. What’s most important for them is perpetuating abuse. They could just stop, or get rid of the people doing it, and the rest of us could live our lives and everything would be fine. But no instead we have to drop everything and make sure no woman anywhere feels safe enough to even breath.

[tactileconsensus]

happy accidents.

She treads the worn out city streets as any other troll would. She wears tedious black clothes, and her reddish complexion brands her as insignificant to the majority of the high-blooded locals. Her long, long hair - a feature that has often been the only thing people remember about her - has been braided and pinned up, making it’s length unremarkable. Her blank expression looks unfriendly and keeps others from wanting to look at her for too long. Nothing about her is special. The group of indigos that pass by don’t even seem to notice she’s there. It’s perfect.

The blue lights adorning the sidewalk are the only company she keeps. She’s enjoying the way they pulse and illuminate the ostentatious gardens along the way, giving every strange and beautiful flower she encounters an alien glow. These high-bloods sure know how to impress a dumb girl from the woods. She’s never even seen most of these species... She snaps a few pictures so she may search for their names later.

She has had many names but only one truly belongs to her: Morras. That is the only name her friends know. Now that she thinks about it, it’s probably a good thing that she has so few of those. It’s not that she worries about what would happen if her real name got leaked out to the world but, in Morras’ line of work, one learns to treasure anonymity.

With each step she takes she feels the comforting weight and swing of the weapons she’s almost always carrying around with her: daggers and small throwing knives, things as sharp and dangerous as a bear’s claws. They remind her of home; the road’s never lonely this way.

Morras walks calmly for a while longer until a number of beautifully lit, highblood-owned mansions begin to rise above the horizon. She starts to hear music and the laughter of dozens of trolls who have decided to enjoy the cool breeze. They are all wearing fancy clothes and sipping on something dark with delight. 

The bright lights of the lively neighborhood cast dark shadows that she inches towards slowly until she vanishes from sight. Morras sneaks from building to building with feline grace, keeping her eyes and ears peeled for anything that might try to creep up on her. 

Deftly she continues until she finally arrives at the party. She struggles with a very stubborn window she’s forced to break and kill two guards for. If only she’d found the courage to do all of this in heels and a suit, she thinks, then she might’ve simply swaggered through the main entrance like everyone else and avoided this unnecessary death. She spares some time to close their eyes, to move their bodies somewhere quieter and mourn their passing in case nobody else cared. ‘Rest easy, ya’ poor bastards’. Their fear led them to loyalty and servitude they weren’t ready for. They deserved closure, and certainly not the one granted by death.

Morras leaves the corpses behind. If she’s not careful, she’ll be forced to take another life or risk compromising the mission, so she tries her damned hardest to navigate the space undetected. She succeeds. 

She climbs an embellished stairwell and hugs the wall as she hunts down a specific room. When she arrives at her destination, two guards stand between her and her kill.

Two knives disappear from her belt with only a flash of cold steel as warning. Each blade finds and pierces through the thigh of each guard and, before they have time to process what happened, before they can even scream from the pain, the substance coating her blades makes them go limp. Morras lunges forward and catches them easily before they fall. She watches their chest rise and fall for a moment as they enjoy a much deserved nap and knows she can move on to more important things.

Morras straightens her back and takes a deep breath before walking through the large door. She’s not nervous, she just wants to make sure she’s ready for anything.

She hears screaming from the other side and she’s immediately on edge. Carefully, Morras rests an ear against the door and tries to make sense of the muffled voices and only stops when she hears glass shattering.  

The first thing she sees the moment she bursts into the room is a table neatly set up for two where dinner seems to have been forgotten. Behind the table stands a young troll, holding a blunt knife between her and Morras’ target. For a moment she wants to protest and ask why this child has come to steal her kill, but that chain of thought is broken when the dim candle light in the room bounces off the streams of blue running down her rounded face. “I WANNA GO HOME!” She cries out, a pathetic attempt to threatened her captor into submission. It doesn’t work, of course.  

“You are home, Nakomi! Please, my child, you must stay. I can help-” Morras’ arrival cuts their sentence in half. She watches their fake smile fall apart, anger poisoning their expression. “Who are you? How did you get here?!” They bark. The girl doesn’t seem to know where to point her knife anymore.

“I’m good.” Morras’ eyes linger on her. She wishes she would take this opportunity to run away, but she seems to be paralyzed in fear. 

They scoff. “The only good assassin, is a dead one, my dear,” The world ‘assassin’ seems to send the girl through ten different emotions at once, all of them negative. Morras would never do anything to her... Not that she’d be able to guess it from just looking at her perpetually hard expression. “What have I ever done to you anyway?”

“To me? Nothin’, I don’t think. But you definitely wronged someone enough that they paid me to see you dead, so” She flashed them one of her favorite daggers - a large jet black beauty with small roses carved along the handle and blade alike.

“If what drives you is money, I assure you I can double whatever you were offered. Hell, I’ll even let you take her!” They grab the girl’s wrist suddenly. She’s so weak and frightened that it’s enough to make the kitchen knife fall from her trembling hands. She looks between the two adults in the room, terrified at the prospect of being sold to a scary assassin, or staying here with a mad slaver. Morras’ heart breaks a little. “She will control the minds of your enemies, if only you can tame the bitch,” Morras’ fist clenches around her weapon. Research told her this troll could match her in speed, and that was really the only thing keeping them alive. They were holding a kid hostage. 

“Only problem is she’s an unpredictable little creature - oh, and she’s incredibly ungrateful; here I was, keeping her safe and trying to make sure she didn’t kill herself with her own stupidity and that is how she thanks me.” They look down at the knife on the floor. They’re practically mocking a defenseless girl; it’s disgusting. “Look what your idiocy caused you already.” They pull back her silvery bangs, revealing the scaring on her forehead. She yelps in protest.

Morras looks at Nakomi with what she hopes to be a sympathetic look. She knows what nearly frying your own brains feels like, knows what a terrifying thing it is to go through it alone.

“I’m not convinced.” Morras replies after a brief moment of silent contemplation. “How do I know you’re not lyin’? That could just be a normal girl with pretty hair and some bruises, no?” Morras looks at the girl as she speaks her next words, begging the gods to make her understand. “I’m gonna’ need a quick demonstration.”

“What? That’s ridiculous. I just told you she has no control over her own damned powers.” 

“Oh, please.” Morras continues to look directly at Nakomi’s soul. “Have some faith.”

A moment passes before it finally dawns on her. 

Morras speaks again but she’s not really sure what she’s saying. All she means to do is distract them while the small girl frowns through her cerulean tears and struggles to seize control of her captor’s body.

It takes her long enough to make Morras a bit nervous, but Nakomi does eventually force them to open their hands. She runs away as soon as she’s free, and the time it takes them to regain control is more than enough to ensure Morras scores a clean kill - not that they deserved one.

The girl throws both arms around the scary assassin. She’s shaking and Morras is as awkward as ever. After a few seconds of not knowing what to do, Morras bends down and hugs her back until her crying dies out.

“Did he hurt you?” Morras asks.

The girl means to say ‘no’, since that’s technically the truth, but she clearly feels like they hurt her a lot. She doesn’t say a word.

“He’s dead.” Morras doesn’t understand what she’s supposed to be saying in moments like this, but she’s trying to be comforting. 

Nakomi sniffles. “Is she going to kill me next?”

“What?” 

The girl’s eyes go wide. “W-what what?”  

“You think I’m gonna’ kill you?”

“How did you-!” She looks at her with wide, trembling eyes and takes a step back. “You’re scary.”

“If I wanted to kill you, you’d be dead already.” Morras tries to reason. Naturally, it doesn’t help much. Oh, no, is she going to start crying again? “Fuckin’... O-okay, listen,” She sighs. “I kill bad people. Like that fucker over there, right?” Nakomi nods slowly. “You’re not a bad person, so I’m not gonna’ kill ya’. It’s that easy.”  

Silence takes over and a moment passes.

“How did you know what I-”

“I got cool powers. Like you.” She’s surprised. Does she not know others like her exist? “I can read thoughts.”

“O-oh...” Nakomi still looks a bit frightened, but Morras spots a flash of something that puts her at ease.

Silence takes over once more. Morras coughs. 

“We have to leave this place.” 

“How are we going to do that?”

“Dunno. Same way I came in? We’ll figure it out.” Morras looked down at her with intensity. “Stay close to me unless there’s a fight goin’. If we’re attacked, you just hide and wait for me, okay?”

“O-Okay.”

“Promise me.”

“I promise.”

The journey back down would’ve been much easier if she’d been heartless enough to slaughter every guard on duty earlier.

Walking around with company during work - a child, of all people - is new and a lot to handle. She keeps worrying about her whereabouts and over planning their next movements. At some point, a moment of doubt is enough to alert a group of guards that immediately swarm them. Morras counts 5 in total; they all wear the same uniform but some have spears while others have swords. She knows she can take them on, but she needs Nakomi to hide first.

“Go!” Morras yells at her small companion, pushing her away from a mean spear swing that would’ve cut her in half. She runs off, panicked. Two tranquilizing blades find two different targets and the threat’s reduced significantly. Those were her last; she would carry more tranquilizers around if the sedative wasn’t so damn expensive. 

Two of the remaining guards run towards her, one swinging high, the other going low. Morras jumps over the spear and extends an arm upwards to hold the guard’s wrist, seizing control of his sword hand. Morras spins and throws her back side roughly against the guard’s chest. She bends his arm in a painful angle that forces him to drop his weapon. The guard sees their closeness as an opportunity to yank her by the hair with his good hand, but all that does is release her gigantic braid from a maze of hairpins. Morras twists her body and grabs her long, long hair at the base to avoid any pain. She kicks him in a certain spot that has him falling on his knees. Unfortunately for him, he refuses to release her braid even as he squirms, so Morras chokes him with it. He’ll live.

The guard who’d swung her spear at her before turns around and tries the same move again. It actually grazes her cheek once but, when she tries another attack Morras just grabs her spear, ripping it from her firm grasp like it was nothing. She hits her with the blunt end of the weapon, stunning her, and sticks the pointy end through the guard she feels sneaking up behind her. 'I really didn’t want to kill another person today...’ Morras thinks with a tinge of sadness.

That short moment of vulnerability is all the last guard needs. Weaponless, she rips one of Morras’ knives from her friend’s body and sprints towards her, aiming to sink it right between her ribs, where her heart might beat. She probably thinks Morras killed her friends, and she’s not entirely wrong.

Morras knows she could’ve defended herself in time from her surprise attack, but she’s still thankful for Nakomi who repeats her neat little trick on the guard, making her drop Morras’ knife. Morras’ fighting instincts kick in. They trade blows until the guard falls on the ground in pain, rust pouring from her nose and lips. Morras sits her up and locks her in a chokehold until she stops moving. The guard joins her friends in the realm of dreams.

At the end of the fight, Nakomi pokes her head out from her hiding spot. “Is... Is it over?” 

“Yeah. You can come.”

Nakomi walks the distance to join her new ally. She’s avoiding Morras’ gaze like she thinks she’s about to get in trouble. “I know I promised to just hide, but...”

“You did good.” Morras wants to smile. Instead, she gives her a lame thumbs up and a nod. 

“You did everything...” She shrugs and picks at her fingernails. Her cheeks are tinted blue and she seems to be smiling.

“Oh! Did you ever tell me your name, miss?”

Morras stops to think about it. Her loaf of bread is lamely forgotten between her lips as she does it. “Did I not?”

“No!” Nakomi replies before swallowing a large bite of chocolate cake. “If you did, I forgot. Sorry.”

“Morras.” It sounds silly when said with your mouth full. It earns her a giggle.

“Morras, huh.” She repeats, looking off into the distance. 

The night had gotten colder, so Morras let her borrow her sweater. The damned thing was already over-sized on her, so Nakomi was currently wearing what looked to be a full body woolen dress, with sleeves she had to roll up to the armpit. 

They had distanced themselves from her captor’s corpse and the fancy party their matesprit threw. The dinner Nakomi left back at their mansion explained the embarrassing noises her stomach was making. Morras offered to buy her something cheap and sweet to remedy that, and that’s how they came to be where they are, sitting on the sidewalk outside a convenience store, eating something light. 

“Thank you for saving me, Morras.”

“It was no problem.” She nods. Saving her was basically a happy accident, really. “I’m glad he’s dead.”

The girl stays quiet, making a face. Morras doesn’t need to read her mind to know she wants to agree.

“It’s okay to want someone dead, sometimes.” Morras tells her calmly. “Some folks just need killin’. It’s why I exist.”

“I never thought of assassins as the good guys. But you’ve been so nice to me...” She takes another bite of cake. “Do you have other good assassin friends? Oh! Oh, are you part of a super duper secret society or something? Who pays you to kill the bad guys, anyway?” 

“I don’t really have assassin friends, no.” Most assassins she does know are batshit crazy. It’s why she works alone. “As for who pays me, well, I suppose it can be anyone? And really any sum will do.”

“Who hired you to kill them?”

“A guard.”

“A guard?” She blinks, confused. “Why were they all trying to kill us, then?” 

“They’re too scared not to. During my research I found out that practically everyone working for them was hiding from something big. So, really, either they did as they were told, or they were sent back to their old lives without any protection. Can you blame them?” Nakomi looks away and doesn’t seem to know how to reply. What Morras said has clearly hit close to home. “They were doing the same to you, huh.”

Nakomi sat in silence, fighting back tears. “My lusus...” She sniffed. “She d-died yesterday. I searched for help and I found them. They said I’d never have to worry about the empire coming after me if I accepted their help... They weren’t that scary at first.” Morras places her hand on her shoulder. “But then they said I could never go home again. They said I would have to do everything they said and that I’d be punished if I didn’t,” She’s sobbing again. Morras wants to do more than stare and touch her arm.

“It’s okay. You’re okay.”  

The girl hugs her. They sit there in silence until the tension dissipates and her tears dry up for the second time in only a few hours. This poor girl deserves better.

“You really are cool... A little scary, though.”

“I know.” Morras sighs. She’s definitely pouting. “This is just... how my face works, though...” It’s obvious this undeniable truth about her is something she’s insecure about.

 “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-” Nakomi jumps in her seat, now worried that she hurt her feelings. “You’re really pretty! And- and your hair is nice! You just... You should smile more.”

“You’re right.” She nods. “I’ll... work on it.” As if she hasn’t been doing just that for sweeps now. 

Morras blinks. “Now that you mention things to work on - you should definitely train your power. They were right when they said that it can kill you.”

“How do you know?”

“Nearly died once.” She shrugs. “Don’t worry, though. You might not know how to control yourself just yet, but you have talent. I’ve seen it twice today already.”

Nakomi peers up at her shyly after a moment of no reaction. “... Will you teach me?”

“Huh?” 

“Um-” She looks away, embarrassed. “I don’t know anyone else with cool powers like us, and you seem to know a thing or two about my current level already, so... Why not?” She chuckles. She’s nervous.

Morras pauses to think. Morras isn’t good at many things, and she’s certainly never been a teacher to anyone. Could she really teach a girl she barely knew about powers she did not have? ‘At the very least, I can keep her safe’.

“Why not.” She repeats with a nod.

Nakomi smiles brighter than the sun and, for once, Morras’ cold expression doesn’t stand a chance.

[tommy-catt0-blog]

Outsmarted By A Computer Hacker

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[survivor-iceland]

Ep. 3 - “hopefully failure does not turn into fracture” - John

Dylan C

oh nvm, it was Jack lol

Timmy

I was half a second from muting Ellie on my own during the tribal. Also JACK LEFT 🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉

John

first vote, check. first blindside, check. feels good knowing i helped spearhead the vote flip from stephen onto jack, but if jack comes back he might be out for blood. luckily enough for us worms, the vote morphed into a 7/1 landslide, so he might come after maynor or stephen or keith before me and my peeps. but only time will tell.

Timmy

ELLIE DRINK WATER CHALLENGE, DO THAT CHALLENGE

Keith John

Last night was a tough vote. Jack made people paranoid. Even though i wanted him to stay. No one in my alliance felt easy with him. Even though i wanted jack around as he was good in chllenge and wanted to work with me. But it is what it is. 

Raffy

I finally managed to get into an alliance with Ellie and Timmy. Though it is not the biggest, I feel confident that these two will serve me well, at least in the premerge. It's called the Just Go For It Alliance, courtesy of Timmy. And we almost got caught forming it because of Cormac which is iconic. Speaking of him, I don't really know what to make of him. He's very... weird. Like it's hard talking to him, but I feel the same way about Keith so whatever. Plus, I don't really trust Cormac considering he basically made a day 1 alliance with two people on my tribe and Sierra. I need to keep an attentive eye on him.

Ellie

I am so immensely thankful for the tribe call last night. It was filled with things I needed to hear, of course we joked around with the fact that I can’t turn on a stove but I was also so thankful for the amazing people in the call making sure that I take care of myself which I haven’t been doing lately. Life has been really hard on me and it feels like a never get a break, sometimes I neglect taking care of myself because I feel that I physically and mentally can’t. I function on caffeine and I get 2-5 hours of sleep on a good night. Last night was kind of a wake up call because I learned that I am putting myself in danger by neglecting myself and my needs. It was really hard for me to accept that but I feel like I have bonded with these people BEYOND the game, they feel like my family now. Life sucks and I get really unmotivated sometimes and can’t bring myself to get out of bed or even eat, but I’ve gotten a lot better and I hope to continue getting better and the people in that call have already played a huge part in that by motivating me to care about my wellbeing and take care of myself, I will always be thankful for that. 

Raffy

I feel like I am bonding well with people? It's hard to get a read on some of them, but I think it's fine for now. Other than that, John came up to me asking for a game bond that I thought we already have. Either way, that seems to be my way into an alliance with him. Hopefully we can grow our numbers and build a trustworthy yet powerful group. We're suspecting a swap pretty soon so I hope that I've bonded with the right people in order to be successful.

Dylan C

I haven’t been socializing enough lately with anyone, and wasn’t going to today but then today was Yikes so. I did miss the tribe call for the challenge because I was on the phone with my friend. Maybe I could’ve made it but eh. Hopefully that one point isn’t going to make or break us. And if it did, well I’ve also done a lot for this challenge already soooo

Ellie

I’m going to be picking flour out of my eyebrows for days

Raffy

I hope we win the challenge. I'm kind of scared that so many things were left blank, but this has got to be enough

Dylan C

BITCH

several of us on this tribe were just on a call saying we didn't wanna vote anyone out smh

I keep agreeing when people say they can't come up with a name for tribal but I do actually have one in mind. I'd say Justin since he seems to be around somewhat less, but it's still not great. I mean, I'd rather not vote anyone

So I've talked with Raffy and Joseph and they agree w/Justin. Haven't specifically mentioned names with anyone else. Ellie says she's just going to listen, and not throw out any names. Also didn't ask my thoughts lol. I'll expand on this more when I record my next video confessional

Timmy

Ughhh we lost, I say we but like I did nothing for the challenge so I was a big contributor to the loss. But now people want justin out and like Justin wants to work with me so I’m not here for that. Honestly I have an alliance that will half the tribe after tomorrow so i would like to have a majority group with him, but I’m still in a good spot without him here. I would rather get Joseph or Dylan R out this round though.

John

okay so apparently cormac wants sierra out after stephen now which is news to me. i just agreed and nodded and was like “okay cool” bc i don’t want to draw negative attention towards myself by acting like i’m trying to protect them, but like i don’t think blindsiding them would be the best move? this game is going to get crazy quick. plus if he’s thinking of taking them out, what if all of a sudden they wanna flip on me? in engineering terms, cracks are propagating on the surface of the material, and it’s not long until failure occurs. hopefully failure does not turn into fracture.

Timmy

Joseph and I haven’t spoken in a few days yet he messages just saying “so, tribal” in bold and I’m like wtf like I’m not gonna talk to you about tribal yet, I need to see if I can trust you first.

Dylan C

What is the big risk I'm taking for the idol and risking my vote at tribal? A fucking puzzle with a shit ton of blue sky and snow, and the piece are weird and r o t a t e. I'm not getting this shit done by 11pm tomorrow! Not when I'm in classes all day, and then have DnD not long after. And I made an account to save my progress, putting my name in it so if I do finish and end up on the leaderboard for someone else to see. You know what I've got tonight? BDE. That's right: big dummy energy. At least the vote seems almost unanimous at this point, so that could easily change, but if it goes like it seems like it will then my vote won't matter too much.

Dylan C

41 minutes and 40 second in, 32%, brain is fried JustinAlright so I am a bit nervous for this tribal considering I have not been too active for this round, but I am still confident I can move the target onto someone else. I was thinking I can possibly get people to vote out Dylan R considering he has been more inactive than I have. Although, the other tribe blindsiding Jack makes me weary because it might have caused people on my tribe to make a move against a more active player. So, I need to be on my toes to make sure that is not me. Also, remember how I said I want to work with Timmy? Well I messaged that bitch asking if he wants to work with me officially, but he hasn't answered even though he has been online since I have sent the message. So, honestly I might try to target him considering he has not been super active either.

Keith John

I have been a bit busy these past few days, havnt spoken to everyone much. Good thing we won immunity. So scrambling is at its minimum. i got a feeling a swap is coming up. Makes me nervous. I dont have many connections on the other side.

Except Justin, spoke to him a few times. Raffy and Ellie I spoke to but they feel like people who talk to everyone. so I dont know if they have my back. Whilst Timmy even didnt reply to my hi. As guess he is clear about not working with me

Stephen

Hi. My name is Mr Immune, which I almost misspelt as Mt Immune, wouldn’t that be entertaining? Anyway the tribes feeling good, John and Sierra are cool, Zoes nice, Maynors nice but oddly distant. Everythings middle of the road atm, nothing great but nothing sucky. I’ll probably try and cruise for a bit on social connections until swap or something equally spicy pops up.

Maynor

I have continued doing the puzzles and I have 3 of them left. Hopefully the idol isnt found yet. We’ll see. Im so happy we were able to win immunity cuz i was slowly freaking out that Jack said my name. Atleast i just screamed inside my head and didnt become as paranois as Jack. He literally made himself the target. Everyone agreed on Stephen then his paranoia happened and it switched onto him.

P.S. ❤️ Jay

Sierra

After Jack got voted out, I was worried that we were going to lose the next challenge. I was so relieved when we actually pulled through and won! We all really worked so hard to win that one... and even though I’m in an alliance, I’d rather not have to test things again just yet.

Raffy

God I hate tribal. It’s ugly. Though I instantly have a name in mind: Justin. He’s the person I trust the least and have talked to the least. I talked to Ellie and Dylan C about it. They seemed to be on board with the whole thing. We just need one more vote which should be easy to get. After all, I am in an alliance with Timmy, so it should be easy for me to get four votes. I’m just hoping that he doesn’t have an idol.

Last night, I was talking to Dylan a little bit. Apparently, they are are scared that they haven’t been added to any alliances and they feel like alliances are being made. So I suggested making an alliance with them and I. They’re in a vulnerable position which is great for me since it means they’ll be more willing to work with me. After tribal, I’m hoping that we can create an alliance together with some other people. I’m excited!!!

Ellie

So it’s between Justin and Dylan R and I have the deciding vote?? More drama coming soon

Justin

Ok these bitches are making me mad. I approached Ellie and Dylan C for alliances. Luckily, they both said yes to individual alliances, but as soon as I brought up the idea for all of us to join together plus Raffy they go mute. That is definitely concerning, but I brought up Dylan R’s name to all three as a target this vote and I can only hope they stick to their word to vote them out. I also made an official alliance with Keith, and he spilled the beans that he has been talking to Raffy a bit which makes me nervous. However, I have changed my stance on Raffy because he actually talks to me quite a lot. But, I am aware he is definitely playing this game hard and is talking to almost everyone. That is why I want to keep him close for the time being and then perhaps blindside him in a swap or early merge. Back to Keith tho, he is ITCHING to make a move. He told me it is his first time playing an ORG and he definitely wants to blindside people which as long as it ain’t me I’m good.

Joseph Collins

Me and Elle have been working so good together. I hope she doesn’t stab me in the back lol. The tribe consensus was Justin but I flipped them all to Dylan r. Blindsideeeeee coming. Hahahahaha. *evil laugh* *winky face

Joseph Collins

Lemme break down how I flipped the vote. I just told Dylan c that “look. I respect you. And I’d want someone to do this for me. The tide’s changing and I think the vote is gonna be Dylan R tonight. I don’t want you to be left out of a vote because I wanted to work with you so I feel like you should know” that establishes trust and kinda gets Dylan to switch her vote

John

i’m ready to make a legitimate move in this game. but it’s all about timing. our best move, if we lose again, is sending stephen outta here. WITH THAT BEING SAID, it’s on after that. bring on the bloodbath. not everything will be happy go lucky for long.

Joseph Collins

I orchestrated this blindside and took no credit in my voting message. Like a true mastermind. *maniacal laugh*

Justin

Biiiiiiiitch. I just found out bitches have been conspiring against me cuz of the time zone difference. So, I was right for being paranoid omg. The person who initially told me was Joseph of all people which was shocking since I probably talk to him the least besides Dylan R. But, I’m glad he did and then Timmy further confirmed it which I’m like hello again Timmy it’s been a bit bud. From what they have told me is that the majority is still on Dylan R. and I talked to Dylan C. about the vote and I straight up talked about the time zone difference not being an issue. They said they have a friend in Scotland so it doesn’t bother them so if at least those three and myself vote Dylan R. then I should be good.

Raffy

The tribe has switched their mentality and have decided to go with Dylan R. with this vote which I am fine with considering he does not talk to me at all either. Plus, Justin came up to me asking if we could align together in this game which is always a good sign. So, I was more inclined to keep him throughout the day. Either way, I think I should be safe at this tribal council.

Zoe

I’m a wild bitch.

For the scavenger hunt challenge, I definitely got a tattoo (of the water tribe symbol from avatar, don’t @ me) for a whopping 20 points, and we definitely won the challenge. While riding on that high I accidentally talked about the idol hunt and got a strike from the god-host, which made me feel like the ultimate failure. Other than that, I have several strong alliances which I am confident in going into the swap.

Dylan C

https://youtu.be/gpUevTrixLo

https://youtu.be/_Qpn_dE6fxs

Not feeling like typing this up in detail but the vote has now changed to Dylan R and I’m down with/that. I talked to some people about it and they agree. Joseph messaged me and was like “I feel I have to tell you since you said you wanted to vote Justin.” I was like “that’s sweet but I already knew.” And kinda tried to play it off after that like I’m a little worse at socializing than I actually am but idk how well that worked. I really should’ve made this confession 5 hours ago but oh well. (Those videos were filmed almost 12 hours ago). 

Dylan C

I actually finished the fucking puzzle and I can’t believe it. Also if I hadn’t, it would’ve counted against me next tribal, not tonight’s. Either way, I’m not losing that vote via that puzzle babey. 

[theprogressofspring]

In Defense of Peter Pettigrew, Part Three: Why did Peter betray the Potters? AKA why we should all cut him some slack.

I advise you to go back and read Parts One and Two before reading this post. I’ll be referencing my logic from previous posts, and you’d be better off having context! This essay is dedicated to @thepinkestpug for her enthusiasm.

Part One Part Two

Imagine for a moment, that there is a war where you are. You know generally who the enemy is--a seemingly infinite moblike gang with a charismatic and mysterious leader--but very few specific names or faces. People are being murdered, including people who aren’t directly fighting in the war. All are terrified that they or their families will be next to be targeted and killed. You know the enemy wants a coup. The government might already be compromised as far as you know--it’s impossible to tell with everyone and everything so frantic and paranoid.

You are part of a tiny resistance force devoted to beating the enemy. This resistance force has no official backing from the government, few resources, and the majority of its members only just graduated from high school. The rest are middle-aged to elderly. Not only is the resistance small and underserved, it’s fracturing from within thanks to rumors of a spy.

You’ve been fighting for years, and some gains have been made, but the awful truth is: The bad guys are winning.

They have bigger numbers, more firepower, and more influence. It is only a matter of time before they take over. This is not pessimism: it is a certainty.

Imagine that in the course of your duties to the resistance, you are targeted by the enemy. The resistance is small, and they know every single one of you. They know you’re close to high-ranking members, and are likely to have information that will expedite the enemy’s rise to power.

You are brought before the very leader of the enemy forces: a person almost no one has seen or could even identify. This leader offers you a choice:

You can surrender the information they seek and not only survive, but once that inevitable regime rises, you will be protected.

If you choose not to give that information, you will be subject to torture that is wrackingly painful but will never inflict permanent harm on your body. It could go on as long as the enemy decides they want your life to last. Decades of torture.

Not only that, but your sole living family member is at risk. If you don’t give up this information, you can only hope you’ve condemned them to a quick death, and not the torture you’ve been promised.

Sure, the enemy leader is a liar...but are you willing to take that risk?

~

I hope that short exercise offers a little insight into the status of the First Wizarding War and the very likely scenario that Peter was forced into. We all say we would be steadfast and righteous and stare pain and death and injustice in the face without blinking, but history proves how wrong that is about most of humanity, and not just “the bad guys.”

I know--I can hear you now: “But Peter was a SPY! He was working for Voldemort for over a year before he betrayed the Potters!”

The books offer no positive confirmation that Peter was the spy, and definitely no confirmation that he was passing information for over a year. In fact, there’s no positive confirmation that there ever was a spy in the Order to begin with! Not a single other reference to a spy is made by any other Order member throughout the books apart from Sirius and Remus in the Shack.

The only indication we get that Peter is the spy is an accusation from a half-starved, maniacal, furious Sirius Black, who is hardly the most reliable character in the books on the best of days. Similarly, there is no indication that Peter “goes to” Voldemort actively in order to betray James and Lily. That’s entirely speculative on Sirius and Harry’s parts.

As I outlined in Part Two, it’s very likely that since the Potters were probably in hiding FAR longer than Jo suggests (we all know she is bad at calendars), Peter, Sirius, and Remus were probably already being targeted by Voldemort explicitly due to their relationship to James and Lily:

Peter was probably targeted by Voldemort right before Halloween 1981–in fact, I suspect that Sirius, Peter, and Remus were ALL intentional targets once it became clear to Voldemort that the Potters were being magically concealed–just as the rest of the Order assumes the Secret Keeper is close to the Potters, Voldemort would as well. Using those in his ranks who knew the Marauders in school (Snape and Lucius, probably), Remus, Peter, and Sirius would be on the short list for extraction.

...This leaves Peter very vulnerable: he has been given one of the most dangerous and high-stakes jobs in this war, and entirely in secret. His friends are in hiding, and he is alone. That’s a rather crumbly foundation to build one’s house upon.

Or, as Luna’s film counterpart puts it: “Well if I were You-Know-Who, I’d want you to feel cut off from everyone else. Because if it’s just you alone you’re not as much of a threat.”

(And that doesn’t even take into account the humiliations he suffered as a part of the friend group to begin with. I mean, they nicknamed him Wormtail, for Christ’s sake.)

Here’s what we learn in PoA:

It was Sirius’s idea to make Peter the Secret-Keeper at the last minute.

This is so curious to me, and suggests some unpleasant things about Sirius, to be honest. It feels a little bit like shirking duty masquerading as a “clever plan.” (For the record, I truly believe Sirius would have died for James, but I think his idea for a sudden switch is worth examination.)

The Death Eaters held Peter responsible for Voldemort’s sudden vaporization--what if he’d tricked them all and done it on purpose? What if he’d known what Voldemort was walking into? Peter was running away from them as well as from the remaining members of the Order.

This does offer a reason why Peter went ahead and sought Voldemort out post-Shrieking Shack. Voldemort’s network is much better-connected than the Marauders’: even if Peter ran away and wanted to live the rest of his life out in some remote country, once it got out that he was alive, I suspect some of Voldemort’s more devoted remaining followers would consider him a Person of Interest and hunt him themselves.

When Hermione points out that Peter never took one of the ample opportunities he had to kill Harry, Sirius counters with the idea that Peter was biding his time until the Dark Side rose again.

This is flawed logic. Sure, there were whispers that Voldemort wasn’t totally dead, but why would Peter kill Harry for no reason? Peter didn’t feel maliciously towards the Potters. Plus, Harry survived a Killing Curse. Who the heck knows what he’s got going on?! Remember, Lucius Malfoy wanted Draco to befriend Harry because he thought Harry was the next Dark Lord.

Come to think of it, it’s rather strange that no one--not a single Death Eater or sympathizer--mentions over a year of service AND giving up the Potters once Peter comes back into the fold. It’s almost as if...Peter didn’t do it voluntarily/enthusiastically!

Remember, Peter’s mother is still alive, and it’s implied she’s his only family (she is awarded Peter’s “posthumous” Order of Merlin). Considering the Death Eater’s brutal habits, I think it’s likely Mrs. Pettigrew’s life was threatened. I’m also fairly certain Peter was tortured. Look at what he says in Prisoner of Azkaban, at the moment he breaks down and admits he betrayed Lily and James:

“Sirius, Sirius, what could I have done? The Dark Lord ... you have no idea ... he has weapons you can’t imagine ... I was scared, Sirius, I was never brave like you and Remus and James. I never meant it to happen ... He Who Must Not Be Named forced me--”... …”He – he was taking over everywhere!” gasped Pettigrew. “Wh-what was there to be gained by refusing him?”...

…”You don’t understand!” whined Pettigrew. “He would have killed me, Sirius!”

And Peter is quite right, ignoble as he may be. Voldemort had essentially already won. Sirius suggests “innocent lives” would have been spared if Peter had not given up the Potters, but I don’t think that’s true. Truthfully, the only innocent lives Sirius cares about are James, Lily’s, and Harry’s--he certainly didn’t seem concerned about the people that died in the course of his confrontation with Peter after the Potters’ deaths.** In fact, I would argue that Peter indirectly saved innocent lives that would have been taken had Peter withheld the information, which would have angered Voldemort and prolonged his already magically extended life.

You see, readers often forget that the Harry Potter world is a magical one. That certainly doesn’t change the moral spectrum, but the fact is that “death” would not have been a kind, quick end for Peter if he had defied Voldemort. Voldemort is not interested in kind, quick endings for people who withhold information that he wants. Look at his treatment of Charity Burbage in Deathly Hallows--and she wasn’t withholding a thing!

Voldemort could have kept Peter alive and tortured him magically for as long as he wanted. Voldemort is smart--he would know not to go overboard like Bellatrix did to the Longbottoms. He wants Peter to remain sane and in control of the information on the Potters. I don’t doubt that he would have made that clear to Peter in the course of convincing him to give up the Potters--I definitely don’t doubt that he gave Peter a taste of that pain.

Something else to consider: Snape negotiated with Voldemort and Dumbledore to keep Lily [and perhaps James] alive. Why wouldn’t Peter do the same? Perhaps he did. After all, we know Voldemort was only after Harry and is canonically upfront about not wanting to waste magical blood by spilling it.

I’m certainly not going to overlook the fact that Peter lied and laid the blame on Sirius in front of Lupin and the trio in the Shrieking Shack--that is obviously bad and wrong. That being said, after sacrificing all I had to remain alive for the preceding twelve years, I doubt I’d be so quick to give it up.

I am not trying to say that Peter did the right thing in giving up the Potters. In fact, I’m not entirely sure there was a right choice to be made in that situation. Peter made a choice I empathize with; a choice the majority of us would have made. I almost certainly would have!

Nobody could have guessed that the Killing Curse would rebound off of Harry and that Voldemort would be neutralized. That had never happened before! Consequently, If Lily had never died for Harry, that magic never would have protected him, and Voldemort would have won just as everyone expected him to. It was an impossible situation, and perhaps we should have a little bit of empathy for it. **A quick sidenote/pop quiz: what is the difference between Sirius’s plan to murder Peter out of revenge (and Remus’s all-too-willingness to join in at the last minute to do so) and Peter indirectly killing the Potters by relinquishing information to Voldemort? OH, RIGHT, one is actually attempted murder, and it ain’t the latter.