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avocad1s · 3 months ago

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Trial By Combat 7

Requested By: No one. Original Work.

CW: Mentions of war

Summary: The magician and the Traveler exchange information

Note: Psst… guys… it’s here!!

Part One -> Part Six

Focalors and the Iudex has concluded their affairs in poor taste. They had left the meeting with more questions rather than answers, and their suspicions only increased a tenfold. Not a word Arlecchino said during that meeting could be taken blindly, she was a harbinger and everyone knew how they operated. To think the Fatui would put the creators safety at risk was a line that should never be crossed.

Only the Knave leaves the Palais Mermonia with a calm air around her. The large group of Fontainians who stood outside the building watched her leave, hoping to get slivers of information from the woman. She walks right through the group, heading towards her decoy ship. She wasn’t dumb enough to bring the ship that had you on it back to the harbor. Someone might be skilled enough to sneak aboard, or worse, you might get off.

Despite the time of day, the streets of Fontaine were quiet. The soft drizzle of rain over the nation seemed to be never ending and the Knave was the only person who was out for a careless stroll that late afternoon.

Once the harbinger rounded the corner, getting closer to the harbor she noticed a small shoppe selling sweets. The Knave didn’t necessarily have a sweet tooth but perhaps you did?

She walks towards the shoppe, staring intently at the goods while the shopkeeper had an uneasy look on his face.

“Was there something you’d like?” the shopkeeper asks, trying his best to swallow his nervousness.

Her eyes flicker to the confectioneries again. She hasn’t had much time to study you, so she wasn’t sure what your taste was. Did you prefer chocolates? Sour candy? Nougat? Arlecchino clicks her tongue. She wants to win your favor, especially before she docks in Snezhnaya.

“I’ll take one of everything you have.” She states.

The shopkeeper stammers. “O-One of everything?”

“Is that not possible?” She questions. “If it’s the mora you worry about, I assure you I have it.”

The shopkeeper hesitates for a moment longer before he quickly begin to pack all of the sweets and candy into two boxes tied perfectly with a red bow. Arlecchino drops a pouch filled with mora onto the counter.

“T—thank you for your patronage!” He says happily as she leaves with the two boxes in her hand.

———

Once the Knave left, you never exited your room. Although you could hear the soft whispers of Fatui agents who debated entering the room. Most of them saying they just want to see you themselves or wanting to check if you needed anything.

You roll your eyes, ever since you woke up in that bed in Fontaine’s hospital you haven’t had time to yourself. Sure you could scream for them to get out and leave you alone, but they would never go too far. Just staying out of sight to avoid invoking your wrath again.

“Your Grace.”

A voice breaks you out of your irritation. It was the Knave. She had returned already… or maybe hours have already passed? You couldn’t tell.

Her gaze flicks down at the plate in front of you. “I see you’ve ate all of your meal. Good.”

Your eyes drift over to the boxes in her hands and she quickly notices your gaze.

“Do you have a sweet tooth, Your Grace?” she asks.

Arlecchino opens one of the boxes presenting the inside to you, it was filled with many candies and baked goods all placed in an orderly fashion.

“I happened to pass a shoppe on my way back to the ship,” she explains. “You haven’t had the time to try any of Fontaine’s desserts so I bought you a few things.”

You raise a brow, looking at both boxes. A few things?!

“Thank you.” You finally say after a moment of silence, you reach into the box bringing one of the treats to your lips and taking a bite.

The Knave smiles in approval, closing the box but placing it close enough for you to reach.

“There’s actually a few things I wanted to talk about.” You say after swallowing.

Arlecchino nods, “Of course. Whatever you wish.” Her eyes focus on you, waiting patiently for you to begin speaking again.

“Oh! Um… I’d like to know more about the Fatui and its harbingers.” you say.

Her eyes narrow slightly, as she taps her chin. “Where should to begin….” Arlecchino states.

It’s was lights out in the Fortress of Meropide. Guards patrolled the area making sure all of the inmates were in their designated dorms. While the Duke sat in his office with a cup of tea in his hand. The champion duelist, Clorinde sat across from him, a calm expression on her face.

“You arrived late,” Wriothesley comments, “did you come here to enjoy a cup of tea with me?”

Clorinde huffs, “Certainly not. I came here to inform you about the situation.”

Wriothesley sets down his teacup, “have you been able to locate Their Grace yet?”

“No…” Clorinde sighs, looking down at her lap. “Monsieur Neuvillette and Lady Furina had a meeting with the Knave. It didn’t leave much to be desired… we still cannot confirm if the Knave is responsible for their disappearance.”

Wriothesley leans back in his seat, resting his chin in his palm.

“What are you thinking about?” Clorinde questions.

“Have you heard of those children from the House of the Hearth?” Wriothesley asks.

Clorinde’s eyebrows furrow, “Lyney and Lynette? I have, they were on trial not long ago but were proven innocent.”

Wriothesley nods, “They’re currently in the Fortress for stealing… but i’m sure it was the Knave who sent them here to look into her colleagues whereabouts. I even noticed them asking about the forbidden zone.”

Wriothesley picks up his teacup, “I haven’t taken any action against them yet, since i’m curious where Tartaglia went myself.”

“Do you think it’s possible he escaped?” Clorinde asks crossing her arms.

Wriothesley shrugs, “I’m not sure, but I am sure that we could use those children as a bargaining chip against the Knave.”

“It’s clear those three care deeply about each other…” Wriothesley says. “I’m sure with enough… motivation we can get the evidence we need and get the Knave to return to Fontaine.”

“And what about the forbidden zone?” Clorinde asks changing the subject.

He sighs, “It’s not doing any better. It’s getting closer to the red zone, and if it reaches that, that primordial sea water will overflow inside the Fortress and soon all of Fontaine.”

Clorinde nods, “I’m not even sure Lady Furina or Monsieur Neuvillette have even thought about the prophecy since—“

“I’m aware.” Wriothesley interrupts, “but if we don’t act now, Their Grace won’t have a Fontaine to return to.”

It falls silent in the room for a moment.

Clorinde lets out a sigh as she stand up from her seat. “Well, I have other duties to attend to, if anything else of importance comes up, i’ll be sure to inform you.”

“You’re sure on’t want to stay for a cup of tea first?”

———

Unlike most of the inmates, Paimon and the traveler weren’t asleep. They sneak past the guards investigating the Fortress under the cover of darkness until a certain voice quiet calls out to them.

“Hey! Over here!”

Behind a large pillar stood Lyney his head poking out as he waved at the duo.

Aether and Paimon exchange glances.

“You scared Paimon! How did you just appear out of nowhere?”

“Oh? You scare so easily now? Is there something worrying you these days?” Lyney teases with a grin.

Paimon crosses her arms, eyes narrowing, “You little...”

Lyney laughs, “Sorry, sorry. Get over here! and keep it down.”

The two approach the magician and notice his twin sister standing behind him.

“Oh Lynette! You’re here too!”

Lynette nods, “that’s right. My brother just cannot stand to be away from me.”

Lyney rolls his eyes then clears his throat, “Freminet is here too. Do you remember him?”

“Oh that one diver from the House of the Hearth? We’ve seen him around the Court of Fontaine before.” Paimon says.

“Now spill!” She adds, “We worked so hard to get you two off the hook and you still ended up here.”

Lyney lets put a dramatic sigh, taking his hat off his head. “Sadly, even the tiniest things can get you arrested these days. It was a small performance with a large crowd, the opera house incident left us pretty famous.”

“And then?”

“Well then guests wallets suddenly disappeared!”

“My brother was charged with theft and I was charged as his accomplice.” Lynette explains.

“The missing wallets are all in the leftmost drawer of the Maison Gardiennage's big filing cabinet. We just need to see how long it takes to discover them.” Lyney says. “In my opinion, the trick itself was preformed perfectly.”

Aether raises a brow, “So you got sent here on purpose. Why are you really here?”

Lynette glances at her brother and he nods.

“The last time I hid my identity from you. I promised not to keep secrets from then on. We are are friends so…” He places his hat back on his head. “We were instructed by “Father” to conduct an investigation.”

“I knew it! Paimon guessed right.”

“If you don’t know my dear friends, the Fortress hides a large secret. Many even believe the Fortress was built to keep this secret hidden.”

“The House of the Hearth have been investigating this secret for a while now, wanting to uncover the mystery. But then all of our informants, including the ones within the guards suddenly disappeared.” Lyney tells the two.

“We believe it’s a direct provocation. Suddenly all of our informants disappear in a matter of days.” Lynette says.

Aether brings a hand to his chin, ‘a few days? is it somehow related to the Creator’s disappearance?’

“Why is the House so interested in this secret?” Aether asked.

“Somehow, “Father” managed to confirm the Focalors does not have the Gnosis. She believes the secret of the Fortress must be related to that.”

Paimon groans, “so it’s all about the Gnosis again.”

“Well that’s about it from our end.” Lyney says. “What about you two? Did Monsieur Neuvillette send you here?”

“Bingo!” Paimon points, “Neuvillette wants us to investigate. The Knave has been putting a lot of pressure on him about Childe so we came here. We’re also hoping to find out more information about Their—“

“The prophecy.” Aether interjected shooting his travel guide a look. “He’s also concerned about the prophecy.”

“Ah yes, the prophecy!” Lyney says, “Father is worried about it too… hey I have an idea, why don’t we team up? The House of the Hearth has many reasons to seek the Gnosis, but our highest priority remains resolving the prophesized crisis. You can trust us on that.”

Aether sighs shaking his head, “Sorry, I must refuse.”

The twins had a look of disappointment on their faces.

“See? I told you…” Lynette grumbled.

“I see… it might be pretty difficult to get you two to cooperate with us.”

“Lyney has been looking forward to reaching an understanding with you since we’ve met.” Lynette admits.

“Just tell them everything why don’t you Lynette…” Lyney says his face growing red.

His sister places a hand on his shoulder, “it’s okay to open up a little…”

Aether sighs pinching the bridge of his nose, “Fine. We can work together, but only exchanging important information. Nothing more.”

The magicians smile, “Wonderful! I was prepared for the worse but your prudent attitude is just as consistent from the first time we met. But since we’re exchanging information now, here’s something you might like.”

“During our investigation, we discovered a place called the forbidden zone.” Lyney begins, “most people wouldn’t talk about it at first but we soon learned from the guards that this place does exist.”

“A forbidden zone…? Could that be where Childe disappeared to?” Paimon questions.

“We’re not entirely sure yet. Although we confirmed its existence, we still haven’t found it ourselves.” Lyney replies.

“Anyways that the most useful information we have as of now, we’re still doing some more investigating but hopefully it can prove most useful to you.”

Aether nods, “We should return to our dormitories, the guards shift change will be happening soon.”

Lyney and Lynette nod. “Very well. I’ll use my cards to get in touch with you in the future, but until then—“

Lyney pulls one of his signature cards from behind his ear, before him and his sister disappear from sight.

“So Lyney and Lynette are here for the gnosis.” Paimon says, once they return back to their dorms.

“Let’s not forget what Neuvillette told us. The vial found in Their Graces hospital room, whatever was in it originated from Snezhnaya. The House of the Hearth are used to sneak missions so maybe it was them who brought the vial to the Creator.” Aether explains and Paimon nods.

“That makes Paimon think, is Childe even missing? Or was this a ploy from the beginning and now Childe and the Knave are returning to Snezhnaya with them?”

“There is definitely more information to be discovered” Aether adds, “But for now we should focus on getting some rest and continue our investigation tomorrow.”

Paimon yawns, “You’re right. All this thinking is making Paimon sleepy.”

Aether lays down on his back, his gaze focused on the ceiling until his eyes grow heavy and he falls asleep.

JADE CHAMBER , LIYUE

Ningguang and the rest of the Qixing sat at the large table in the Jade Chamber. There were papers piled up on the table, old scriptures related to the Creator and of Fontaine’s history. Including the Steambird post that was posted after their conviction.

The head of the Qixing was growing increasingly frustrated despite her neutral tone. Ever since it arrived in Liyue from Captain Beidou, she had reread the document every hour. She could recall all the punctuation used in the newspaper.

“I’ve sent many letters to the Hydro Archon.” Keqing says her hands laced in front of her. “It’s been close to a week and still no response.”

Ningguang sighs, “I see. It seems like they do not have any intentions of discussing this. We might have to send a diplomat, perhaps they’d be more willing for a peaceful discussion in person.”

“I agree.” Ganyu says, “but the Adepti are growing restless… they want to make the trip themselves to save Their Grace.”

“Have the Adepti even left Liyue before?” Yelan questioned from her spot in the corner.

“Not for a long time, they are still fulfilling their contract… but there is a stipulation in the contract that Their Grace comes above all else.”

Keqing sighs, “this is a mortal matter, we don’t need their involvement.”

Ningguang looks back down at the paper, “Considering the fact that it was a mortal who struck down Their Grace, they might not see it that way. But we can’t afford to expend our resources to keep the Adepti in check.”

“Leave them to me,” Ganyu reassures, “If the Adepti truly do get involved, I fear it might start another war…”

A chill fills the room and Ningguang stand up brushing her hair away. “That’s a worse case scenario… let’s hope it doesn’t come down to that.”

“There are other matters as well,” Yelan suddenly says, her fingers brushing against the jacket on her shoulders.

“I saw one of the harbingers… the Regrator here in Liyue yesterday. At first, I was watched his movements and all he did was pull all the money out of the Northland bank and closed it until further notice.”

Ningguang raises a brow, “Is he still in Liyue?”

“No.” Yelan shakes her head. “He took the first ship back to his homeland early this morning… but it feels suspicious to suddenly close the most profitable bank the Fatui has.”

“I can go to Fontaine, I’ll be the diplomat and confirm Their Grace’s status.” Keqing says while standing up.

“I’m going to return to Jueyun Karst,” Ganyu states. “I’ll try my best to keep the Adepti in check. If anything problems arise, I’ll send word as soon as possible.”

“Thank you all of you,” Ningguang says, “Our main priority should be confirming the safety of Their Grace and hopefully bringing them here to Liyue.”

“…r Grace…”

“Your… G”

“Your Grace…”

Your eyes open. When did you fall asleep?

You sit up rubbing your eyes noticing an unusual chill in the air, all of a sudden it felt like winter. Yet at the same time, you noticed you had on a black and white coat, it had the same insignia that was on the side of the boat.

“Your Grace…”

You look over, it was Arlecchino calling for you again and again. She was also in a similar coat.

“Are you cold?” She asks.

“A little bit.” You admit, even with the coat on you still felt a chill on your bones but you weren’t sure if it was due to the weather or the extremely dangerous individual next to you.

“Don’t worry there are a lot of fireplaces inside.” She says.

She grasps your hand gently leading you up the stairs to the top of the ship.

It was extremely bright, practically blinding as the sun shined down on the thick layer of snow that went on as far as you could see. Even with the sun shining, none of the snow and ice seemed to melting. Off in the distance was a large palace, it was decorated beautifully and was completely coated in ice.

Your attention is then drawn to the dock, there were seven individuals standing looking up at you. Although most of them had a mask on their face, you could tell they were all waiting with baited breaths.

The one in the middle, a mask covering half of his face and with white hair bows towards you slightly and the others follow suit.

“Welcome to Snezhnaya, Your Grace.”

Note: HAHA I BEAT NATLAN 🙏🙏🙏🙏 ehem… anyways… I hope you enjoyed this part! and like always i appreciate your patience love you all and i hope you win your 50/50 for any character you want 🫶🏽

Taglist: @bittersweetorpheus @esthelily @tempestlart @angelofdarkness2 @mmeatt @dxprived4-starboys @Itm-acct @honey-lemonz @ymechi @nervouseaglelover @livelaughlovekuni @vianitry @vvyeislazzy @kbar1013 @ichiraku-verse @chaoticfivesworld @eplefugl @mabvo @g3n0dtt @shikanosn @noahrandom @haunts-gh0st @pix-stuff @riiriin @emmbny @mih3r4 @shiki-jin @owl778 @ra404 @leekingsman @ash1 @wangjiswarren @shellofthewell @f1onaa @mahi-does-some-art @bitchyfanfics-posts @emilymikado @sarah22447 @swagbucksjester @chrysanthemum-00 @nex-crowley @iruiji @cloise @scalyalpaca @game-savvy @dreamlessnight @sydforreal24 @ser3nityst4r @xyaxyn @mercy-not-merci @sadpersonmadeoffruitpunch @that-levi-kenma-kinnie @thrawns-back-seat-commander @dracucil @artwitchh @mmmhyperfixation @nottheotheruser

if it’s bold, for some reason i couldn’t tag you!

#genshin cult au #sagau #genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #sagau x reader #avocad1s posts #self aware genshin #sagau fatui

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ladykailitha · 1 month ago

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Right, an idea that has been stewing in my head for awhile. No monster AU

When Eddie was eight years old he was the star witness in a mob boss’s trial. The mobster is accused of hiring a hit on a rival gang leader. Eddie swore under oath that the mobster did not leave the room at any time. The only people who can in the room was the nanny with tea for the boss and hot chocolate for Eddie.

The prosecutor asks if maybe he had fallen asleep at any time to which Eddie replies naps are for babies and he’s not a baby. That earns chuckles from the judge, jury, and defense, but the DA is pissed.

He tries to get Eddie to admit that the boss must have left, but Eddie swears that from the first thing in the morning until his dad came to pick him up, the nice man in the white suit never left the room.

So the boss is acquitted and walks free. What Eddie doesn’t know, is that mob boss gave the signal to the nanny using the tea cups. What the prosecutors failed to look into was the nanny. She had been dating the gang’s second in command for six months when the hit went down.

So this boss swears a life debt to Eddie.

Whenever Eddie gets into trouble with the law, in come the boss’s lawyers and get the whole thing dismissed.

Eddie falls in with the Party when they join Hellfire and Steve is the one picking them up from school.

When Steve’s parents run afoul the wrong people in a business deal gone horribly wrong, Steve gets kidnapped.

And Eddie is pissed.

He calls up the mobster and tells him what happened.

The mobster is only to happy to help. He’d been itching for an excuse to wipe this gang off the planet and this is a perfect one.

The mobster walks into where Steve is being held and tells them that this boy and not his parents are under his protection. And if they don’t let him go, they’re dead.

The rival gang laughs and Steve is told to close his eyes.

Steve knows better than to argue with someone that powerful and closes his eyes.

The ratatat of machine gun fire rings throughout the warehouse and Steve hunches his shoulders against the sound.

Then there is silence.

The mobster cuts Steve loose but tells him to keep his eyes closed and leads him out of the warehouse. That’s when he opens his eyes.

There Eddie is leaning against a fancy limo. Steve runs into his arms and is just relieved that he is alive.

Eddie asks the boss if this makes them even.

The mobster laughs and said not even close, that was a bit of fun. Only now Steve is under his protection too.

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #mafia au

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anim-ttrpgs · 10 days ago

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Fairytale Witch Player Character Rules in Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy

Eureka has six playable "monster" types, and about ten total supernatural character options all together. Each supernatural trait is taken basically as if it is a normal trait like the ones you have been seeing us post. You cannot give a character more than one supernatural trait--and from what you are about to read, you probably wouldn't want to. Playing monsters is recommended for "advanced" players only, people who like a lot of "crunch" in their games, as require you to keep track of a lot more mechanics than playing a normal human.

Here is the Fairytale Witch Trait. This is going under a Read More because it's long as hell but we really hope that you will check it out and comment. This is, like, the whole entire ruleset for playing a witch in Eureka.

Fairytale Witch (Monster Trait)

A “witch” has been many things throughout history, so many things in fact that it is quite difficult to form a cohesive thesis statement about them, and, like vampires, and the Hollywood werewolf, are something whose origins are obscured and severely misunderstood by more recent pop culture and pop history.[1][2][3] The “fairytale witch” in Eureka draws inspiration from a vast range of folkloric sources, ancient, medieval, and early-modern. Literary and folkloric figures, typically women, who wield the power to heal and to harm, and whose aid or ire are nearly always earned.

[1. Off to the side in the final formatting] And like those things, many things which were said to be witches were not and are not.

[2. Off to the side in the final formatting] Certain more recent folkloric elements of the idea of “witchcraft,” including sacrifice and drinking of specifically children’s blood, have been deliberately omitted from mechanization, as these elements stand as direct and recent foundations of present-day antisemitic conspiracy theories. Both in real life and in Eureka, grand conspiracy theories are a comforting fantasy for those who turn a blind eye to actual problems which stand right in front of their face.

[3. Off to the side in the final formatting] Most witch trials happened in America during the Enlightenment.

Fairytale witches in Eureka may draw on ancient knowledge of these arts passed down generationally, may have learned these abilities from their peers, or may have simply stumbled upon this knowledge some other way and discovered that, while it is simply a silly fantasy to most others, they have an exceptional talent for it.[1] Now what will they do with this power?[2][3] This particular Trait tackles some different themes compared to the other monsters.

[1 off to the side in the final formatting] Regardless, this is not something which can be taught to others over the course of an investigation. Plus, it’s said most people simply lack the talent for it in the first place.

[2 off to the side in the final formatting] Witches are not satanic, at least not literally. The idea that “the Devil” can grant anyone any arcane power is found nowhere in the Bible.

[3 off to the side in the final formatting] You couldn't imagine the hazing.

A lot of a witch’s powers hinge on them knowing someone’s “full true name.” What exactly is meant by a person’s “full true name” is a matter of discussion between player and Narrator, but as a general guideline, if a person is named Jeremy Matthew Jones IV, then “Jeremy Matthew Jones IV” is needed, and just “Jeremy Jones” or “Jeremy M. Jones” won’t be enough. Nicknames also do not generally count.

A fairy cannot make their magic work by just guessing a person’s true name, but a witch can.

Curses

Assuming they have the right materials, a witch can place a terrible curse on an unsuspecting victim from anywhere in the world. More powerful curses have two stages, while simpler curses peter out or fall off after about a week.[1]

[1. Off to the side in the final formatting] For all the many terrible things that the medieval Church was, stagnifying and technologically regressive do not make the list. The institution of the medieval Church was one of philosophy, education, and what we would now call “science,” and medieval clergymen were by and large literate, and relatively well-educated men for the time. The medieval Church’s suppression of “witchcraft” had less in common with the “satanic panic” of the 80s, 90s, and 2000s, and more to do with the idea that even believing that “the devil” or pagan gods could grant anyone wicked powers was a dangerous superstition, enabling of swindlers and charlatans, and this was likely to result in the wrongful persecution of people who behave oddly, as well as, and especially, Jews. This was true of the “satanic panic” and is still true today.

[1.1. Off to the side in the final formatting] This is not to posit that the medieval Church was a champion of religious freedom and equality. One might say they wanted uncontested control of who got to persecute Jews and exactly to what degree.

Casting a Curse Directly

In order to place a curse directly on a target, the witch must be in possession of the target’s full true name[1] clearly written on some material, or a large sample of their DNA (such as a large lock of their hair), or both. These items are destroyed as a part of the casting process.

[1. Off to the side in the final formatting] What exactly is meant by a person’s “full true name” is a matter of discussion between player and Narrator.

Casting a curse requires a supernatural ability Composure roll.

Casting a curse takes 1 Tick or 5 Actions, during which all components are destroyed.[1] The curse will last for 7 days by default before either wearing off completely, or advancing to the next stage. As the curse is cast, roll 1D6+1+[Relevant Skill]. Which Skill is used will vary depending on the curse. The result is the number of days by which the witch may extend or reduce the curse's duration. If the curse is an advanced two-stage curse, the result is the number of days by which the witch may extend or reduce the first stage’s duration. If the result is a negative number, reduce the witch’s Composure by the same amount. A witch may use the Focus Eureka! Point ability to add an additional 1D6 to this roll (and this also adds 1D6 to the advanced curse roll, below).[2]

[1 off to the side in the final formatting] What the act of placing a curse actually looks like varies from witch to witch.

[2 off to the side in the final formatting] This works exactly like using the Focus ability when Incapacitated - add 1D6 per Eureka! Point spent to the roll, and then drop all but the highest two.

If a simple curse is reduced to a duration of “0 days,” it will only take effect for the duration of a single Scene. If the first stage of an advanced curse is set to “0 days,” the curse will advance to the second stage immediately.

When an advanced curse is cast, after the witch decides the effect of the second stage (see below), roll an additional separate 1D6+1+[Relevant Skill]. The result is the number of days by which the witch may extend or reduce the second stage’s duration. Like with a simple curse, the default duration is 7 days, after which the effects will wear off completely.

If the witch only has one of these components, then only a simple curse can be cast. If the witch has both the full true name and the DNA sample, an advanced curse can be cast. If the witch mistakenly has the true name and the DNA of two separate people, then, unbeknownst to the witch, both of those people will be struck with a simple curse.

Witches may place curses upon themselves if they so desire, without needing to use their own full true name or DNA.[1]

[1 off to the side in the final formatting] They’ve already got it.

A second curse placed upon the same target will extend its duration, but only the effect of one type of curse can apply at once. If a simple curse is placed on a target already suffering the effects of an advanced curse, the simple curse will fail to take effect. If a different kind of advanced curse is placed on a target already suffering the effects of an advanced curse, the new curse will replace the previous curse if the caster can make a Full Success on a skill check with the new curse’s relevant Skill.

Effects of Simple Curses

A simple curse makes the target suddenly feel extremely feeble and ill.[1] The target will have a -2 modifier applied to all Skill rolls for the duration of the curse’s effect. Simple curses that have no advanced stage always use the Medicine Skill.

[1. Off to the side in the final formatting] Symptoms include shortness of breath, nausea, fatigue, muscle weakness, loss of appetite, excessive sweating, dizziness, and a sense of impending doom. However, no medical doctor will be able to diagnose exactly what is causing the problem.

Effects of Advanced Curses

Advanced curses typically have two stages, with the first stage appearing nearly identical to a simple curse, with all the same effects. When the second stage takes effect, the effects of the first stage cease. The effect of the second stage is decided as the curse is being cast, before the 1D6 is rolled.

Each advanced curse has a different Skill associated with it. This Skill is used for both the first and second stage of the curse.

Curse of Transformation

This curse uses the Nature Skill. The target will be spontaneously transformed into an animal of the witch’s preference.[1]

[1 off to the side in the final formatting] Their clothes don’t transform with them.

The witch must make a Full Success on a Nature roll to choose an animal that is not on the following list.

Cat

Frog

Mouse

Newt

Pig

Rat

Toad

Wolf[1]

[1 off to the side in the final formatting] For the stats of a wolf, see p.xx “Werewolf”. The rest of these do not have official stats, but we expect you to be able to figure out what they would be good and bad at.

The target will maintain a functional degree of human intelligence while in this form, at least for some time. Once their human mind is lost, the curse cannot be removed, and will never revert after any amount of time. The curse will also never revert if the target dies while transformed.

For an NPC, the Narrator rolls a hidden 1D6+3. This is how many days the target will retain their humanity.

For an investigator, the Narrator rolls a hidden 1D6. After this number of days, if the transformed investigator ever reaches 0 Composure, their humanity will be lost.

Curse of Reduction

This curse uses the Visual Calculus Skill. The target will be spontaneously reduced to between 5% and 10% of their original size.[1][2][3][4]

[1 off to the side in the final formatting] Their clothes and items may or may not shrink with them, at the caster’s preference.

[2. Off to the side in the final formatting] For a 72” person, that would be between 3.6” and 7.2”.

[3. Off to the side in the final formatting.] In most cases, a person reduced in size like this will be at the mercy of the witch, and can be captured without any rolls needed. However, they still have opposable thumbs, and the means to explain the circumstances to others. Witches may wish to weigh the pros and cons of this compared to transformation into a rat, which can make victims quite hard to catch if they start running right away.

[4 off to the side in the final formatting] A person reduced in size counts as one meal.

If the target dies while shrunken, the curse will never revert.

Curse of Petrification

This curse uses the Chemistry Skill. The target, including their clothes, will be spontaneously turned to stone. At the preference of the caster, they may or may not retain awareness of their surroundings. If kept aware, they will lose 2 Composure per day, and if unaware, 1 Composure per day, until they are effectively dead, at which point the curse cannot be reverted.[1] If the curse is reverted, either by it wearing off before the point of no return, or being broken, any damage the target sustained as a statue will immediately take effect. For example, chips in their stone body become lacerations in their living body. If an arm was broken off of the statue, their arm is now severed. If the statue suffers fatal damage, the curse will not be able to be reverted. If unaware, then reverting the curse will feel like waking up from a long and restless sleep. The target does not need to eat or sleep so long as they are petrified.

[1 off to the ads in the final formatting] For NPCs, consider them to have 1D6+1 Composure to lose before it starts to eat into their Superficial HP.

Curse of Slumber

This curse uses the Medicine Skill. The next time they fall asleep, the victim will fall into a coma-like state for the duration of the curse. The target will lose 1 Composure per day until the curse either reverts or they die.[1] Unlike with petrification, the body must breathe and be fed during this time.

[1. Off to the side in the final formatting] For NPCs, consider them to have 1D6+1 Composure to lose before it starts to eat into their Superficial HP.

Curse of Death

This curse uses the Blacked Out Skill. The target begins to take 2 Superficial Damage each day for the duration of the curse or until they die, and will be unable to regain HP or Composure through sleep. In addition, apply a -3 modifier to all their rolls.

Defense Against Curses

Upon being struck with a curse, a witch can recognize the intended effect, and may immediately make a Skill check of the curse’s relevant Skill in order to cast it off. This will take one Movement if time is measured in Turns.

Full Success: The curse is fully cast off.

Partial Success: The curse is partially cast off. The witch will suffer only the simple effects, at half the intended duration, and no advanced effects.

Failure: The witch will suffer the full effects of the curse as usual.

Placing a Curse on an Object

Cursing an object works similarly to placing a curse on a person, except no names or DNA are needed, the witch need only be holding the object with bare hands. The default duration of the first stage is 7 days and so is the second stage. Roll 1D6+1+[Relevant Skill] for each to determine by how much the witch can adjust them. After the witch has removed their hands from the object, it will be actively cursed, and anyone who touches it with bare skin, including the witch themselves, will be cursed. The Narrator rolls a hidden 1D12. The result is how many times the curse will transfer to people who touch the object.

Breaking a Curse

There are a number of ways a witch may know to break a curse. If the ailment is not immediately identifiable as a curse, a Full Success on a Blacked Out check by a witch will positively identify whether it is or not.

The death of the curse’s caster will not remove the curse.

Manual Removal of the Curse

A curse can be removed in the same way it was cast. If the curse was cast using a true name, the witch can remove the curse using the victim’s true name. If the curse was cast using DNA, the witch can remove the curse using the victim’s DNA.[1] If both, it requires both. Regardless, this takes 1 Tick or 5 Actions. If neither, the curse cannot be broken in this way.

[1. Off to the side in the final formatting] This has to be the victim’s human DNA. If they have been transformed into an animal, their new form’s DNA will not suffice, it will have to be something removed from their body before the transformation.

True Love’s Kiss

A kiss can sometimes be all it takes to lift a curse. The Narrator rolls a hidden D6 once the victim has been kissed. On a 7+, the curse will be broken by the kiss. If it fails, another kiss from the same person will not work either.[1] If time is measured in Turns, this will take an Action from the kisser.

[1. Off to the side in the final formatting.] Morgie’s kisses always lift curses.

Add +1 to the roll if the kisser truly loves the victim.

Add +1 to the roll if the kisser is female.

Add +1 to the roll if the kisser is of noble or royal lineage, or is a fairy.

Curse Removal and Cure by Potion

If all else fails, a potion can be brewed to lift the curse. A potion to lift a specific type of curse will require the same recipe as a potion that would have caused that type of curse, plus one additional Table 3 ingredient. However, the victim must be able to drink the potion for it to take effect, meaning a curse of petrification cannot be lifted in this way. See p.xx “Brewing Potions”. Using the same method, a Non-Lethal or Lethal Poison Potion can have an extra Table 3 ingredient added to make them antidotes for their respective poisons, and a Love Potion can have an extra Table 3 ingredient added to make it a cure for Love Potions, etc.

Brewing Potions

If there’s one thing witches are known for, it’s potions.[1] Potions represent the most reliable and effective vehicle of a witch’s magic, and are often something of a magic spell in and of themselves.[2][3]

[1. Off to the side in the final formatting] A large metal cauldron is classic, but takes up a lot of space in an apartment, so a stovetop is usually fine.

[2. Off to the side in the final formatting] The “magic words” may or may not have any true power in and of themselves. Sometimes, the time it takes to recite the entire “spell” three times is just about how long the potion needs to be left on the heat.

[3. Off to the side in the final formatting] In the Middle Ages, until about the mid-1400s, the conception of a “witch” was often cautiously positive, and may conjure up the image of an unmarried woman living outside of town who has vast generational knowledge to draw upon in the way of midwifery techniques, herbalism, medicine, and poison.

When a witch brews a potion, it is often going to be something of an ordeal to gather all the right ingredients, but the payoff will be an effect that the witch can set the exact delay and duration of, and which can be applied to anyone who consumes it, bypassing both the element of uncertainty, and the prickly details, of casting a curse by hand. A successfully brewed potion can be made to have any length of delay between consumption and effect, and the effect can be made to last for any length of time, including permanency.

Potion brewing is as much an art as a science, and no two brews will be the same, even if they aim to achieve the same effect across the same duration. The process of brewing a magic potion is influenced by factors barely understood by the witch and certainly not under their control, it won’t be until the the process is underway that it becomes clear exactly what is needed to finish the concoction.[1][2] Not counting the time required to gather the ingredients, a witch must spend at least 1 Tick a day attending to the potion in between the time the base is added and the final two ingredients are added, as well as 1D6 Ticks finishing the potion once all of the ingredients have been added.

[1. Off to the side in the final formatting] When it became clear that prayer alone would not suffice, ordained priests may be the village’s most avid practitioner of “folk magic.” Folk “magic” of course just being another word for an observable effect to which the cause is not fully scientifically understood.

[2. Off to the side in the final formatting] Sometimes, the ingredients required for a potion will be realistically impossible to obtain in certain scenarios.

Every potion has three ingredients: A base, which is always going to be the same for the kind of effect the witch is trying to achieve, and two additional main ingredients which will become clear only after the brewing process has begun.[1] See below for the list of possible potion effects, the required bases, and the two other ingredients, which will be rolled on the relevant ingredient tables.

[1. Off to the side in the final formatting] This is not literally all the ingredients, just the ones that matter most mechanically and which will not be understood until the process has begun. The witch will be throwing all sorts of things in there in the meantime.

The base for a potion must be acquired and added, and after the other two required ingredients become known, those too must be acquired and added. For ingredients that would be reasonable to have on-hand, a Wealth roll using the witch’s home (or whatever home they’re doing this in) may suffice, but many ingredients will require the witch and any other investigators willing to help them to divert their plans to seek them out. If the investigators decide that a particular potion is necessary for their progress towards solving the mystery, then consider rolls that seek to gather information on where to find the necessary ingredients to count as Investigative Rolls.

Potions do not work on any subject unable to ingest or digest them.

Any potion which applies an advanced curse’s effect does so without applying the effect of the first stage.

If a potion is intended to be mixed with food, a witch may take steps to make the potion more difficult to detect by taste or smell with a Blacked Out or Chemistry roll, hidden by the Narrator.

Full Success: The potion is impossible to detect once it has been applied to or mixed with food.

Partial Success: The potion may be detected by a Full or Partial Success on a Senses roll.

Failure: The taste or smell of the potion is immediately obvious to just about anyone.

To make a potion undetectable in an autopsy or other examination of the victim, a witch can make a Chemistry or Blacked Out roll.

Full Success: The remnants and evidence of the potion in the victim’s system will dissipate completely before any examination can be conducted.

Partial Success: Evidence of the potion within the victim’s system will be undetectable by normal means, but a witch may still be able to identify it.

Failure: Any medical examiner will be able to detect the traces of the potion, but only someone versed in witchcraft will be able to properly identify it.

Potions which apply the same effects as curses count as those curses for all intents and purposes, including their removal. Thus a curse caused by a potion could be removed by use of the victim’s hair and true name, by use of a curse-removing potion, or by a kiss.

Starting the Adventure with Potions

A witch can start the adventure with potions already in their inventory in exchange for WP, either because they recently brewed them, or bought or traded from another witch (who is unavailable for a refund of takeback during the adventure). The witch will not be able to buy potions during the adventure. Any potion bought by WP in character creation can be made curative by spending 1 extra WP. (See p.xx “Curse Removal and Cure by Potion”.)

2WP: Random potion.[1] Roll 1D6+1D12 on the list of potions.

[1. Off to the side in the final formatting] It’s only random to the player, not the witch. They know what they got it for.

4WP: Specific potion. Choose any one potion from the list.

List of Potions

2. Potion of Invisibility

Cat (boiled live), Table 3, Table 3. Renders one invisible to the naked eye for a single Scene, including clothing and small held items.

3. Potion of Transformation

Blood of the animal that this potion is intended to turn someone into, Table 3, Table 3. Applies the second stage of a transformation curse. See p.xx “Curse of Transformation”.

4. Potion of Petrification

Powdered marble, Table 2, Table 3. Applies the second stage of a petrification curse. See p.xx “Curse of Petrification”.

5. Potion of Waking Sleep

Apple, Table 2, Table 3. Allows one to remain awake for one full night without suffering any Composure loss.

6. Love Potion

hair of the subject of affection, Table 2, Table 3. All rolls made by the subject of affection towards the drinker of the potion have a +2 Contextual modifier.[1][2][3]

[1. Off to the side in the final formatting] This works like any other curse - though it can only be applied by a potion, the love potion’s effect may be undone by other means (e.g. with a sample of DNA and the person’s full true name).

[2. Off to the side in the final formatting] The world is a little fuzzier when the subject of the affection is in view, but their voice is always loud and clear.

[3. Off to the side in the final formatting] Easily slipped into a drink - one more reason to be vigilant at bars.

7. Potion of Slumber

Sand, Table 1, Table 3. Applies the second stage of a slumber curse. See p.xx “Curse of Slumber”.

8. Potion of Nourishment

Bread crumbs, Table 1, Table 3. Consuming this counts as 3 daily meals at once.

9. Potion of Death

Rat (boiled live), Table 1, Table 2. Applies the second stage of a death curse. See p.xx “Curse of Death”.

10. Sleep Aid

Wolfsbane, Table 1, Table 1. Grants one 1 additional point of Composure restored after a single full night’s rest.

11. Pain Relief

oak bark, Table 1, Table 2. Grants one 1 additional point of Superficial HP restored after a single full night’s rest.

12. Potion of Glamour

Lavender, Table 1, Table 3. Apply a +2 Base bonus to this character’s Charm and Seduce Skills for a single Scene.

13. Non-lethal Poison

Thorns of a thorny plant, Table 1, Table 3. Applies Poison (Non-lethal, OT: Witch’s choice, DF: Witch’s choice). See p.xx “Non-lethal Poison”.

14. Potion of Healing

Copper shavings, Table 1, Table 3. When applied with a Medicine roll, add +2 to the amount of HP restored, even with a Failure. This can also rid the body of non-chronic diseases, such as a short-term virus or bacterial infection.

15. Juice that Makes You Explode

Gunpowder, Table 2, Table 3. When the potion takes effect, the Narrator rolls a hidden D6. On a 6, This causes the consumer to violently explode as a Shrapnel Explosion. On a 1-5, the option has no effect. See p.xx “Shrapnel Explosion”.

16. Lethal Poison

Hemlock, Table 2, Table 3. Applies Poison (Lethal, OT: Witch’s choice, DF: Witch’s choice). See p.xx “Lethal Poison”.

17. Potion of Soothing

Simmered liquor, Table 2, Table 3. Restores 3 points of Composure.

18. Potion of Reduction

Salt, Table 3, Table 3. Applies the second stage of a reduction curse. See p.xx “Curse of Reduction”.

Potion Ingredients Table 1

A witch with a +2 or higher in Nature can roll a second time on this table and use either result in the potion.

1,1. Beetroot

1,2. Beetroot

1,3. Adder’s fork (trout lily)

1,4. Beetroot

1,5. Wolfsbane

1,6. Yew leaves

2,1. Tiger’s blood

2,2. Oak leaves

2,3. Blind-worm’s sting (wormwood)

2,4. Eye of Newt (mustard seed)[1]

2,5. Eye of newt (actual)

2,6. Gecko’s blood

3,1. Tongue of dog (houndstongue, the plant)

3,2. Tongue of dog (actual)

3,3. Lizard leg (ivy)

3,4. Lizard leg (actual)

3,5. Owlet’s wing (garlic)

3,6. Owlet’s wing (actual)

4,1. Scale of dragon (the plant)

4,2. Tooth of wolf (club moss)

4,3. Tooth of wolf (actual)

4,4. Gall of goat (st. John’s wart)

4,5. Bloody fingers (foxgloves)

4,6. Bloody fingers (actual)

5,1. Tiger’s chaudron (lady’s mantle)

5,2. Baboon’s blood

5,3. Toe of frog (buttercup)

5,4. Toe of frog (actual)

5,5. Fillet of fenny snake (arums)

5,6. Wool of bat (holly leaves)

6,1. Wool of bat (actual)

6,2. Snakes

6,3. Snails

6,4. Puppy dog tails

6,5. Rose petals

6,6. Snips (eels)

[1 off to the side in the final formatting] There is little evidence that “eye of newt” and “lizard’s leg” and stuff like that was actually code for regular household ingredients, but there’s also little evidence that every witch would know that.

Potion Ingredients Table 2

A witch with a +2 or higher in Chemistry can roll a second time on this table and use either result in the potion.

1,1. Human hair

1,2. Cobwebs

1,3. Sugar

1,4. Human urine

1,5. Human bone

1,6. Human wart

2,1. Cat’s whiskers

2,2. Dog hair

2,3. Snake egg

2,4. Feather of crow

2,5. Chicken egg

2,6. Shark’s tooth

3,1. Booger

3,2. Salt

3,3. Silver shavings

3,4. Copper shavings

3,5. Tobacco

3,6. Gold shavings

4,1. Iron shavings

4,2. Magnet

4,3. Human liver

4,4. Human nose

4,5. Human lips

4,6. Sand from an hourglass

5,1. Bronze shavings

5,2. Aluminium shavings

5,3. Honey

5,4. Gunpowder

5,5. Rabbit’s foot

5,6. Eye of spider

6,1. Ocean water

6,2. Expired milk

6,3. A piece of burned meat

6,4. Tail of rat

6,5. Nightshade

6,6. Neon

Potion Ingredients Table 3

A witch with a +2 or higher in [Blacked Out] can roll a second time on this table and use either result in the potion.

1,1. Cat (boiled live)

1,2. Human hair (red)

1,3. Something sold based on a lie

1,4. Candy stolen from a baby

1,5. Witch’s blood

1,6. Washwater from the sheets of a deathbed

2,1. A picture taken moments before disaster

2,2. Something thrown away in anger

2,3. Blood drawn from a toe

2,4. A murder weapon

2,5. A family photo.

2,6. A divorcee’s wedding ring

3,1. Powdered skull from two-headed cow.

3,2. Cremated human remains

3,3. Picture of a sniper rifle from a video game released in 2009.

3,4. Ash obtained by burning wood from a shipwreck

3,5. a silk mourning veil (used)

3,6. Something stolen from a neighbor

4,1. Coffin nails

4,2. grave dirt

4,3. Blood of a virgin

4,4. Pants of Matt

4,5. A pet’s favorite toy

4,6. wine which has not seen the sun for at least ten years

5,1. Hair of a murderer

5,2. Orphan’s tears

5,3. Sock of Matt (oven baked)

5,4. Engagement ring (used)

5,5. A flower picked as it blooms under a full moon.

5,6. An adorable sneeze

6,1. Love

6,2. Water from the lungs of a drowned man

6,3. Menstrual blood

6,4. Gamer girl bath water

6,5. Something stolen from a friend

6,6. Human semen

Casting Spells

Without taking up a Trait slot, a witch can be considered to have any Power from the Mage Power List, but only one at a time. Swapping between these Powers requires a non-skill supernatural ability Composure roll, as well as taking an Action if done in combat.

Enchanted Vehicle and Flying

As a non-skill supernatural ability, the witch may enchant a vehicle, broom, or other object of similar category (or theming), allowing it to fly under their control so long as they are piloting it.[1] The enchanted object will not fly for anyone but the witch, and will become inert soon after the witch stops piloting it. If done in combat, this takes 1 Action.[2][3]

[1. Off to the side in the final formatting] Old-fashioned brooms are traditional, but there are a number of other objects, modern or otherwise, that would logically be suitable as a substitute. Figure it out.

[2 off to the side in the final formatting] As a warning, virtually any flying vehicle will be extremely obvious and visible during the daytime.

[3 off to the side in the final formatting] Watch out for birds.

Witches have a “Flying” Write-in Skill, used in place of the Athletics skill when piloting either a flying Manually Powered Vehicle, or a flying household object. It does not allow the witch to fly without an enchanted object. Unlike other Write-in Skills, the Flying Skill starts at 0 and can be set to any value between -3 and +3, so long as all of the witch’s Skill modifiers still add up to 0.[should this be able to go below 0?]

A roll is not required to control this device under normal circumstances, but intense maneuvers will require a Flying or Driving roll.

Flying objects have an Acceleration of +12, unless the object already has a higher Acceleration.

If I Can’t Have You, No One Can (Fairytale Witch True Nature)

Flat Composure Damage from Skipping Meals = Yes

Composure restoration from Three Meals a Day = Yes

Flat Composure Damage from Skipping Sleep = Yes

Composure restoration from Full Night’s Sleep = Yes

Eating people, or using one’s powers against others for petty and/or entirely selfish reasons will restore a witch’s Composure, though the witch has no connatural need to do these things.[1]

[1 off to the side in the final formatting] A witch can’t stop being a witch any more than a soldier can stop being a soldier.

For use of powers, an act that temporarily affects the victim will restore 1 point of Composure, and an act that permanently affects the victim will restore 2 points of Composure. These acts do not necessarily have to involve the use of magic. If the witch has a non-magical opportunity to exert power over another individual for petty and/or entirely selfish reasons, this could work as well.

For eating people, making a meal of a person will restore 2 points of Composure. Making a meal of a person who was alive until moments before preparation and consumption, or is still alive when consumed, will restore 3 points of Composure. If the victim happens to be a former friend or lover of the witch, restore 1 additional point of Composure.[1][2][3][4]

[1. Off to the side in the final formatting] This only restores Composure one time per victim. Eating multiple meals made from the same person will not restore Composure for each meal.

[2. Off to the side in the final formatting] Clever witches are said to make use of magic to consume their enemies more efficiently.

[3 off to the side in the final formatting] Eating the flesh of a human that has been transformed into an animal by a curse does count, at least for Composure restoration. This is also, probably, a lot healthier.

[4 off to the side in the final formatting] If the witch makes multiple meals of a single person, only the first meal will restore the extra Composure. Any leftovers will count as “normal” food.

Dangerous Games (Fairytale Witch Weakness)

As relatively normal people (at least by monster standards), fairytale witches don’t have much in the way of supernatural weaknesses, except for the fact that their bodies simply can not handle excessive prolonged use of so many arcane powers.

Whenever a fairytale witch uses a non-Skill supernatural ability, the Composure roll is made at -3 instead of +3. There are, however, ways to reduce the strain these acts of sorcery put on the body.

Casting Implements

There are certain tools of the trade which can relieve some of the strain by drawing the energy out of the witch’s body before manifesting it in reality or facilitating it by other means. [this sentence kinda sucks but I’m on 5 hours of sleep. Fix it in copy-editing]

Each casting implement in use provides a bonus to the non-skill supernatural ability Composure roll a witch makes to use her powers. A casting implement must be being touched (or held telekinetically) by the witch in order to provide this bonus.[1] The cumulative bonus given by all of a witch’s casting implements cannot bring the Composure roll higher than a cumulative +3. The process by which an object is prepared to be used as such a device is arcane and cannot be accomplished mid-adventure, nor can one of these be bought with a Wealth roll mid-adventure. They can only be acquired through Wealth Points.

[1. Off to the side in the final formatting] The implement does not *necessarily* have to be pointed in the direction of the target of the power, but many witches find that this helps them focus.

Jewelry

+1 [2WP] A piece of jewelry. Multiple can be worn to further defer strain and increase the Composure roll bonus.

Wand

+1. [1WP] Could be a gnarled old stick or a black rod with a white tip, or anything in between, as long as it is elongated and about 10 to 24 inches. Only one wand or staff may be in use by the witch at a time.

Staff

+2 [1WP] Like a larger, more heavy-duty wand. Must be at least as tall as the witch themselves. Only one wand or staff may be in use by the witch at a time.

Spell Book

+1 [1WP] Could be an old leather-bound tome, or a spiral notebook containing the witch’s scribbled research notes. Must be opened and read from to confer a bonus, but does not necessarily need to be touched. Only one spell book can confer a bonus at a time.

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justauthoring · 1 year ago

Text

Running, Freedom, Salvation (Alternate Ending)

Prompt: “Run, run, run. That’s all we ever do. All we’ve ever done.” You paused, feeling the wind brush through your hair. Taking a deep breath, you steadied yourself and met his eyes. “Do you think it’ll finally stop?”

Maze Runner: one - two - three - four - five - six - seven - eight

Scorch Trials: one - two - three - four - five - six

Death Cure: one - two - three - four - five

A/N: I honestly cannot believe i'm adding another part to RFS... but i'm finally giving people the ending they deserve lol. I honestly had so much fun writing this and I just... ahhh I wish we could go back to when I first wrote this series.

Please don’t plagiarize my work - I spend a lot of my time writing, copying and pasting destroys that. If you want to repost my work. please ask first - but even then I might say no.

Pairing: Newt x Reader

Tag List: @blackbrokerosey - @some-fantasy-thoughts - @ilovemymoose - @alienadvocate - @itsfangirlmendes - @thatproffessionalfangirl - @nightingalethewriter - @143amberrose - @joycewrites - @floweryukheii - @hey-margot - @hippieballs - @wearegoldeninthenight - @betcoop - @crystalshines2909 - @darthweasley7 - @desired-love- - @honeymoonavenue - @legit-fandom-trash - @musicandbeat - @thespeedofwind - @sellinxhs - @sumlariss - @togetherlikepeanutbutterandjelly - @sarcasmdunbar - @strangerthingsluv - @mythicalamphitrite - @thisishowieroll - @independentgirl - @heathernsweets - @illumminated - @highly-uncomfortable-titles - @ktminn01 - @awkwardlyarts - @j-marvel-memester - @mdgrdians - @writingandhotcocoa - @shootingstarsaretearsofheaven - @verkyun - @luvelyxp - @minninugget

You don't think you've ever ran so fast.

The burn in your lungs was a familiar sensation, one you hadn't felt since you'd left the maze -- and that sense of fear? The one coursing through your veins, striking your heart and making it hard to think straight, eyes blurring with unshed tears... It was unlike anything you'd ever felt.

Please. Please make it in time.

You had... You had to make it in time. If you didn't, you didn't know what you'd do. The mere thought of losing Newt was enough to make your heart feel like it was ripping apart. He was your whole world, and you'd never once doubted that fact.

There was no time to think. No time to look back. The clock was ticking towards his inevitable death, and you refused to let the time run out.

You're gripping the serum so tightly in your hands that you're surprised it doesn't crack from the sheer pressure. But you were afraid of letting it go, of dropping it, of breaking it and every little chance of saving Newt disappearing within seconds right before your eyes. The serum in your hand was his last hope.

You can't breathe, but you continue to run. And you don't stop. Until you see Newt and Thomas, the both of them and there's a split second of relief, your feet slowing beneath you, before you blink and properly process what's happening in front of you. Newt's crouched over Thomas, a knife in his hands, inching closer and closer to piercing Thomas' chest.

And his name leaves your lips without thought, a deep guttural cry breaking past your lips that sounds so unlike you you barely register it as you screaming for him.

"Newt!"

Thomas looks at you at the sound of your voice, a sense of relief flooding his gaze, before a cry leaves his lips. The one second of him looking away had allowed Newt to gain the advantage, piercing Thomas in the chest and sinking the knife deeper and deeper in his chest.

You move without thinking, breaking out into a run once again as Newt's name leaves your lips in a shrieking cry.

This time, Newt hears you as well, head snapping to the right and eyes falling on you. You don't realize that it isn't Newt staring back at you, and rather the virus taking control of his body and so when he lunges at you, you're completely unprepared. He slams into you, you just barely managing to dodge the knife still held tightly in his hands, swiping across your face before you lose your footing, falling to the ground with a loud thud.

"Y/N!"

It's Thomas calling for you, but can't see him. Newt is on you, pressing on you enough that you can't breathe, unable to catch your breath as he moves to stab you; just like he'd tried to with Thomas.

Your hands come before you in a panic, the serum slipping from your hands and rolling away from you.

"Thomas!" You cry, using all your strength to hold Newt back; "the serum! Thomas, get the serum!"

You can't see him but you distantly hear him call out in response, before your attention is stolen back by Newt. He's too strong for you, you realize with a panic, the knife growing closer and closer, and you don't have the strength to hold him back anymore; your arms are shaking and you can't breathe properly with the weight of him on top of you.

You see a shadow fall behind Newt, hope flooding you, just as your strength gives out and you just manage to shift in time, the knife lodging itself in your upper left arm instead of your chest. A cry leaves your lips in response, pain erupting up your arm, but as you blink, you realize the weight on top of you has lifted.

"Y/N! Y/N, are you okay?"

Thomas is suddenly in front of you. hands flittering from your cheeks to your arm, now profusely bleeding, helping you sit up as your eyes dance around, confused, until they finally settle on Newt beside you, slumped over.

"It's okay, it's okay," Thomas' breathes, pulling your gaze back on him, "I got the serum, look." He holds the empty vile in front of your face, you blinking at the sight of it before falling back on Newt. "You did it, Y/N. You saved him."

Lips parting, you turn to Thomas, feeling the tears in your eyes finally fall as you let out a sob.

"It's okay," Thomas soothes.

Your eyes fall back on Newt once again, eyes flickering across him, slumped over to his side; but you see the soft rise and fall of his body and it's enough to assure you he's okay.

Hot pain erupts from your arm, causing you to hiss, looking down only to see blood bleeding into your shirt, soaking it.

"Here," Thomas calls, moving to rip off a strip of his shirt, wrapping it around your arm, pulling it tight. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to let him go after you like that."

Smiling softly, you turn to meet Thomas' eyes. "It's not your fault, Thomas. I'm sorry it took me so long to get here with the serum. If he'd hurt you..."

Thomas shakes his head; "all that matters is you did, yeah? Newt's okay."

You nod, letting your hand fall over your injured arm. Distantly, you see Thomas glance over his shoulder and you're reminded of Teresa's message. Smiling gently, you set your hand on Thomas' shoulder, pulling his gaze on you as you nod; "go," you assure. "I'll be okay."

"No, Y/N, I'm not gonna--"

"Go."

One more look at you, and then frowning, Thomas nods, moving to stand up. You send him one last smile before he turns, rushing off, and watch his figure disappear, you slowly shift, being careful not to put any pressure on your injured arm. You move until you're right next to Newt, pulling him back and towards you, right into your lap, until his face is staring up at your own.

With only silence surrounding you, you brush back the strands of hair that had fallen into his face, biting your lip.

The tears build up before you can stop them, a slight shake to your shoulders as you stare down at him, his peaceful expression staring back up at your own. The only trace of what had just happened being the sweat and grime stuck to his face, and the light traces of his veins popping over his pale skin.

"Thank God..." you breathe out, unable to stop the shake of your voice as you curl into yourself, letting your head fall on his chest as you sob. "Thank God you're okay..."

Rolling over, your hand instinctively reaches out, expecting to feel the familiar warmth of another body beside you, only to fall on the mildly cold, empty sheet.

Eyes peeling open, you sigh.

Pushing yourself up, you rub at your face, trying to rub the sleep out of your eyes as you let yourself slowly wake up, taking in your surroundings. It's quiet, telling you that it's still early and nobody else is awake.

Eyes falling back on the empty spot next to you, you shake your head.

Except for one.

You move to a stand, relishing in the way the cool sand feels against your bare feet, before you push yourself up. You grab a sweater on your way out, wrapping it around you to protect yourself from the cool morning wind, pushing the flap of your tent open, eyeing both ways, before your gaze falls on a familiar figure off to the side, by the far end of the ocean.

Swallowing thickly, you make your way over, footsteps quiet so as not to wake anyone else up, silently sitting down right next to Newt.

He glances at you briefly, before looking back ahead of himself.

"You weren't in bed this morning."

"Couldn't sleep."

Frowning at his short reply, you bring your knees to your chest, hugging them. "I... I missed you."

Newt glances over at you, finally meeting your gaze, before he sighs; "YN..."

"No, Newt," you argue, shaking your head. "You've been so distant ever since we got here... and you won't tell me why. You wake up early, you go to bed late. You're always busy during the day that I never see you. You... You won't even look at me."

You can't help the way your voice chokes up, the distress of everything building as you bite your lip. "It's like you don't even love me anymore."

Newt starts at that, body straightening as he turns to look at you. His eyes are wide and his lips part, as if to argue, before his gaze flickers past your face, lower, and all the fight leaves his eyes as his shoulders slump.

Your lips part, to say something, most of all to ignore the hurt that burns deep inside of you at his complete dismissal of your words. But he's pushing himself to a stand before you can, avoiding your gaze and refusing to look at you as he walks off, without a single word.

Lips left parted, the hurt bubbles up enough to pull a sob from your lips, chest burning at the fact that he'd just walked away from you like that. Without a word.

It had been on your mind for weeks since you'd all arrived here... the second all of you had made it to the safe haven, Newt had been distant. What had started from just being quiet and avoiding your touches occassionally, had turned into him refusing to talk to you, avoiding you at all costs and all together ignoring you.

You hadn't wanted to believe it, but it really was starting to feel like he'd... just fallen out of love with you.

You sit there for a while, holding yourself as you let yourself cry, listening to your own raggid breathing and the sounds of the ocean waves, before the distinct sound of chatter reached your ears and you realized everyone else was getting up. Getting started with their day.

Sniffling, you hastily wipe at your tears, brushing your fingers along your cheeks and ignoring the heavy weight in your chest as you move to stand.

You promised you'd help Brenda with breakfast this morning, so there was no time for tears.

Brenda can tell there's something wrong but any time she tries to ask you, you just brush her off.

She liked to think the two of you were close, that being the only two girls of your group had helped the both of you bond. And if she asked you, you would of course say the same -- but, she didn't know you like the rest. And if you weren't going to tell her, she figured the next best bet was them.

It wasn't hard for anyone with eyes to tell that you and Newt had been distant, estranged and Brenda had a pretty big suspicion that that was the source of your problems. She'd known enough not to talk to Newt, but the boy had been pretty isolated recently, so it wasn't hard to reach Thomas and Minho alone.

"I need your guys' help."

The two boys glance at each other, before turning back to Brenda. "Yeah?"

"There's something wrong with Newt and Y/N."

Minho's eyes instantly light up in recognition, and his shoulders slump; "you noticed too, huh?"

Thomas, ever so oblivious, blinks; "noticed what?"

Both Brenda and Minho turn to him with deadpanned expressions. "They've been weird with each other. Newt has been distant with all of us, but it's like he's avoiding Y/N. He ignores her whenever she tries to talk to him, and I can tell it's hurting Y/N."

"She barely spoke this morning while we were making breakfast. She also looked like she'd been crying," Brenda explains with a frown. "And she wouldn't tell me what's wrong. But I could've sworn I saw Newt and her at the beach when I woke up this morning."

Thomas frowns; "I didn't see them."

Brenda rolls her eyes; "that's because you were half asleep."

"I'll talk to Newt," Minho offers, frowning. "Neither of you were there, but this is just like after Y/N had her accident in the maze."

Brenda's brows furrow; "the maze?"

Thomas nods; "back in the glade."

"She'd just been promoted to runner," Minho explains, "and we got separated. She said she saw a griever, but it hadn't attacked her, just stared. And then when she moved, it did, knocking her off a high pillar. I'd found her, passed out, with a broken arm and leg. I thought she was dead..." Sighing, Minho shook his head; "when I brought her back to the glade, Newt was a mess. Nobody could calm him down until we knew she was alright and then..."

"And then?"

"And then he just stopped talking to her," Minho shrugs, "he would avoid her, like he was scared of hurting her or--" Pausing, Minho's eyes widen.

Thomas shakes his head; "what?"

"He's afraid of hurting her," Minho repeats, "when he was infected, before he got the serum, Thomas, didn't he hurt Y/N?"

Blinking, Thomas nods; "yeah. He lunged at her before I could stop him, trying to kill her. Then, just as I stabbed him with the serum, he stabbed Y/N in the arm. She still has the scar." Then, pausing, Thomas adds; "but it's not like he did it on purpose. It was the flare."

"Yeah, but Newt would still feel guilty."

Brenda nods, "that's gotta be it. Minho, Thomas, you talked to Newt, i'll find Y/N. Get him to talk to her, okay?"

They both nod.

"Brenda--"

"Y/N."

Huffing, you roll your eyes; "I promised Aris I'd help him with dinner, I can't just--"

"I'll help him," Brenda cuts you off once again. "You looked tired this morning. You've been working so hard, you deserve a break. Me and the guys decided it."

"No more then everyone else," you sigh, "and besides, Minho and Thomas don't know what they're talking about. I'm pretty sure i've not seen Thomas stop moving all day, so really--" You pause your own rambling as you reach your tent, blinking in confusion as both Thomas and Minho make their way out of said tent. They look briefly panicked at the sight of you, you missing the glare that Brenda sends them, before they offer a smile and a wave, rushing off.

"What were--"

"No worries," Brenda cuts you off, again, "just get some rest, okay?"

With a simple slap to the back, she all but shoves you inside, not giving you any time to argue before she flips the flap of your tent shut behind you. "What the...--" Pausing at the sound of someone else, your head turns, panicked, before falling on; "Newt..."

Thomas and Minho...

It all makes sense then.

"They forced you in here, didn't they?"

Meeting your gaze, Newt nods, but doesn't say anything.

"I'm sorry," you sigh, not sure what else to say. You haven't spoken to him since this morning, and even then it hadn't been much of a conversation. Not to mention, anything before that had been short and brief as well.

You didn't know how to talk to Newt anymore.

"I don't know what they were thinking or Brenda for that--"

"I still love you."

Lips snapping shut, your body tenses at his words.

"I do love you," Newt continues, voice soft. "I'll always love you."

Shoulders falling, you glance at your feet; "then..." and you trail off, but you know Newt knows what you're talking about.

He stands then, crossing the short distance of your tent over to you. Your eyes fall on him as he stands in front of you, oddly feeling nervous, choosing to say silent as he simply reaches forward, taking your hand in his and pulling your arm up. His free hand pushes up the sleeve of your shirt, before his fingers trace across the scar there.

"I hurt you."

Confused, you shake your head; "but you weren't in control... it was the flare, Newt."

"I still hurt you," he argues, "something I promised I'd never do."

"Newt..."

"I can't be around you because I hurt you... I can't forgive myself and... i'm better off de--"

"Don't," you cut in, eyes falling shut as you shake your head. "Don't you dare say that."

"But it's true."

"It's not," you cry, unable to stop the way your voice rises, desperation sinking in. "It will never be true." Reaching forward, you push Newt's hand away from your arm, moving to cup his cheeks. "I thought I was going to lose you, Newt and if I had, I don't think I would've been able to live. You are... everything to me. There is no one I trust more, no one I would rather be with. You are my whole world."

Eyes shining with unshed tears, Newt shakes his head. "Y/N..."

"Please, Newt," you cry, "please..."

Breath shaky, Newt finally allows himself to lean into your touch. "I didn't mean to hurt you...."

"I know," you whisper, "I've never once blamed you."

"I love you so much."

The relief that coarses through you at that is undeniable. Just to hear those words, the words you've been so desperate to hear, is enough to make everything better.

"I love you too," you whisper, glancing up at Newt. "And nothing will ever change that."

"Well, that was a success."

Smiling, Minho nods at Brenda; "a complete success."

"He's getting a little handsy, though, so--"

"Dude," Minho huffs, grabbing Thomas' shoulder and tugging him back before he can go stomping into your tent. "Leave them alone."

"That's my sister--"

"Yeah, yeah."

#the maze runner #maze runner #the maze runner x reader #maze runner x reader #tmr #tmr x reader #tmr imagines #newt #newt x reader #tmr newt x reader #tmr newt #thomas brodie sangster

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someone-will-remember-us · 1 month ago

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So many aspects of the trial of Dominique Pelicot and 50 other defendants in France over the past month have been so extraordinary to experience that they feel somehow surreal, or upside-down. In 2020, Gisèle Pelicot, a 67-year-old retiree living in the small French town of Mazan, was told by police that her husband of almost 50 years, Dominique, had been arrested after trying to film up women’s skirts in a shopping center. At first, Gisèle was cautiously understanding. If Dominique was willing to go into therapy, she thought, they could stay together. But then the police confronted her with something infinitely more shocking. On his hard drive, a folder titled “abuse” contained some 20,000 photographs and videos of Gisèle being raped and assaulted by strange men—72 in total—as well as her husband. For about a decade, they told her, he had been drugging her food and drink, and inviting men he met on the internet to abuse her. In court last month, Dominique Pelicot validated the charges against him. “I am a rapist, like the others in this room,” he said. Fourteen of the other men on trial have pleaded guilty to the charges against them, but the majority claim innocence, arguing that they thought they were simply participating in a “libertine” game between husband and wife.

Before his arrest, with regard to his own security, Dominique was meticulous to a fault. The men who came to his home had to warm their hands on a radiator before entering his bedroom. They had to undress in the kitchen. They weren’t to smell of cigarette smoke or aftershave, lest they leave any discernible trace of themselves behind. If Gisèle stirred while an assault was ongoing, Dominique ordered the assailant to leave the room. He kept detailed records, saving videos and photographs of each man in file folders categorized by their first name—“part pleasure,” he later explained in court, “but also, part insurance.” With regard to his wife’s safety, however, he was strikingly nonchalant. He didn’t require that any of the men accused of raping his wife use condoms. Some are accused of choking her while Dominique watched; others, of assaulting her with objects. One man, who was HIV-positive, allegedly raped Gisèle on six separate occasions, telling Dominique that he couldn’t maintain an erection if he wore protection. When Gisèle began to complain of strange physical symptoms—substantial weight loss, hair loss, huge gaps in her memory, difficulty moving her arm—Dominique drove her to doctor appointments, but didn’t stop drugging her, or facilitating her abuse. When she mentioned that she’d been having unexplained gynecological issues, he accused her of cheating on him. Of her husband, she said in court: “In 50 years, I never imagined for a second that he could rape.”

The mass trial of Dominique and 50 other men who could be identified (more than 20 alleged assailants remain at large) began in September, exposing a case that’s both wholly unprecedented and dully familiar. The fact that we’re aware of it at all is because of Gisèle, who gave up her right to privacy so that the allegations of what happened to her could be made public. What she believed, her lawyer said, was that “shame must change sides”—for the men accused of raping and assaulting her to be the ones whose characters were stained, whose reputations were maligned. In the process, she’s become a feminist icon in France, in whose name women’s groups have rallied, seeking to raise awareness about sex crimes involving drugging and pointing out that women are most likely to be raped by someone they know. Every day, before she enters the courtroom, Gisèle is applauded by crowds who have gathered outside to support her.

In court, though, Gisèle’s cross-examination has mostly been by the book, which is to say that lawyers for the defense—more than 40 in number—have done everything they can to impugn her character. “There’s rape and there’s rape,” one defense attorney told her, implying, as many of the defendants have argued, that Gisèle and her husband were swingers participating in an elaborate sex game. “No, there are no different types of rape,” she replied. Although the judges in the trial denied the prosecution’s request that videos documenting her abuse be shown in court, agreeing with defense lawyers that doing so would compromise the dignityof the defendants, they did allow those lawyers to show some 27 pictures that revealed Gisèle’s genitalia, and her face with her eyes apparently open. (A medical expert has testified that, given the medication Dominique was secretly administering, Gisèle was so heavily sedated, she was closer to being in a coma than being asleep.) Lawyers asked her whether she was an alcoholic, and whether she had “a secret inclination for exhibitionism.” In response, Gisèle stated that every day since the beginning of the trial, she’d been intentionally humiliated, and that she understood why most rape victims don’t press charges. Although she appears composed on the surface, she has said that, internally, she is “a field of ruins.” Even so, a few weeks into the trial, one defense lawyer, Nadia El Bouroumi, posted an Instagram Reel of herself in her car, miming to the Wham song “Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go.” (She later deleted the video and posted a statement saying she was profoundly sorry if her meaning had been misinterpreted.)

This kind of ritualized cruelty toward victims is standard in legal systems worldwide, and yet the Pelicot case has stripped away all the usual obfuscations and muddying of details to make certain things clear. There are just so many accused rapists in this case, each one caught on camera. There are so many men who are alleged to have assaulted a drugged grandmother of seven that before they go into the courtroom, they have to form a queue, shuffling one by one in hunched, sullen fashion, as though waiting in a breadline, or for a bus. The men range in age from their 20s to their 70s. One was a firefighter. One was a nurse. One was a journalist. One was a prison guard, one a civil servant. Many were apparently happily married with children. One, a 22-year-old, missed the birth of his daughter the night he went to allegedly rape Gisèle.

Not all men rape women, the adage goes. But the Pelicot case has upended that argument: not all men, but any man, of any age, any profession, any marital status. Living in a small town of 6,000 people, Dominique was able to find 72 men nearby who were allegedly willing—as per his invitation on a forum titled “Without Their Knowledge”—to “abuse my sleeping, drugged wife.” The site he used, Coco.fr, was shut down earlier this year, but it has been implicated in 23,000 separate crimes that are under investigation by more than 70 public prosecutors’ offices across France. Not all men but, still, so many men. One defendant in the Pelicot case, a 72-year-old former firefighter and truck driver who was described by friends and family as “kind,” “attentive,” and “open to others,” told the courtroom that he had “a deep respect for women,” and that if his ex-wife were present, she’d tell them, “He loves the woman in all her diversity, all her complexity.” Nevertheless, he is accused of raping an unconscious woman, Gisèle’s lawyer countered; the man has denied the accusation. Another defendant explained that he realized what he was doing was wrong when Gisèle moved while he was assaulting her, and Dominique quickly ushered him out of the room. “When I crossed the garden, I thought about reporting the incident,” he said in court. “Then life resumed its course; the next day, I went to work very early, and that was that.”

The men accused of raping and assaulting Gisèle, it’s worth remembering, are so numerous that they were arrested in five separate waves, spanning almost a year. In court every week, a new group of defendants has been presented to the judges for consideration, so that their psychological profiles and the testimony of their partners and ex-partners can be taken into account. One defendant, a private nurse, was apparently extremely empathetic to his patients, whom he considered family. He and his wife tried for many years to have children, undergoing multiple rounds of IVF and eventually hoping to adopt. Another, a mason, was reportedly a wonderful father whose friends testified that he was respectful and quiet, never even making dirty jokes at parties. Some of the men have been described as egocentric, aggressive, and routinely unfaithful. One was incarcerated for acts of sexual violence against three other women at the time of his arrest. One has asked about the possibility of restorative justice. Some confessed to having been abused as children. One, although not charged with assaulting Gisèle, is accused of being mentored by Dominique in the drugging and rape of his own wife, who has stayed with him despite learning that both her husband and Dominique allegedly raped her while she was unconscious on several occasions. One defendant was described by his fiancée, with whom he shares a 15-month-old child conceived after his arrest, as having a “heart of gold.”

Following along with the trial, what’s been hard to process is the disconnect between how the defendants are being treated and what Gisèle has endured. The men’s psychological profiles are inherently humanizing—it’s difficult not to feel pity for those whose children have died, or who were reportedly abused themselves, or who apparently fought for their children with special needs to receive the educational assistance they needed. And yet these men also allegedly participated in the abuse and rape of a passed-out woman: an immobile, voiceless, dehumanized body served up to them by her husband, whose actions implied—and were accepted by the men—as ownership. “If a man came to have intercourse with me, he still should have asked for my consent,” Gisèle said in court. But that acquiescence itself would have been in opposition to what so many men apparently wanted: ultimate sexual domination over someone who couldn’t consent, orchestrated by the one man whom she loved and trusted the most.

(archive)

#radblr #radfem meme #radical feminism #gender critical #terfblr #radical feminist #radfem safe #terf safe #gisele pelicot

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feminismisstillahatemovement · 8 months ago

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In 2017 I interviewed Bernadette Wren, then head of psychology at the Tavistock Gids clinic, and asked what effect puberty blocking drugs have on the adolescent brain. Looking highly uncomfortable, she replied that the evidence so far was only anecdotal but that the clinic would study its patients “well into their adult lives so that we can see”.

Even back then, before whistleblowers had exposed the rush to medically transition children, it was alarming to hear that heavy-duty GnRH agonists such as triptorelin — used to treat advanced prostate cancer and “chemically castrate” sex offenders — were being prescribed to arrest puberty in hundreds of children as young as 11.

Moreover, they were being used “off-label” before any clinical trials. And the long-term study Wren promised never materialised: Gids (the Gender Identity Development Service) routinely lost touch with patients, and the 44 it did follow reported little long-term mental health improvement.

This shocking chapter in medical history, where the ideological objectives of trans rights campaigners trumped the welfare of disturbed children, is coming to an end worldwide. The decision by NHS England effectively to ban the prescription of puberty blockers comes after the Cass review noted these drugs could “permanently disrupt” brain development, reduce bone density and lock children into a regime of cross-sex hormones requiring life-long patienthood.

NHS England unites with other national health services including those in Finland, France, Sweden and, most notably, the Netherlands — where the “Dutch protocol”, a regime of early blockers then hormones, was devised in 1998 — in pulling back from prescribing them.

Even in the United States, where a toxic combination of extreme activism and medical capitalism has pushed child gender medicine to grotesque extremes, with double mastectomies performed on 14-year-old girls, there is some retrenchment.

Leaks from the World Professional Association for Transgender Health, the body which formulates guidance on “trans healthcare”, reveal doctors perplexed at how they should explain to an 11-year-old child that drugs will render them infertile. Crucially, liberal media such as The New York Times are now reporting grave medical misgivings about child transition, once dismissed as a culture-war issue for the Republican right.

Yet the question remains: how was this ever allowed to happen? For years, puberty blockers were cheerily billed as a mere “pause button”. In 2014, Dr Polly Carmichael, the last head of Gids before the Cass review ordered its closure, went on CBBC in a show called I Am Leo, saying of blockers: “The good thing is, if you stop the injections, it’s like pressing ‘start’ and the body carries on developing as it would if you hadn’t started.”

The BBC permitted her to make this unevidenced claim to an impressionable audience of six to 12-year-olds. Imagine hearing this as a developing girl, freaked out by your new breasts and periods. No wonder Gids referrals subsequently rocketed.

Carmichael failed to mention that she did not know if pressing “restart” on puberty is always medically possible — it is not — and in fact, almost every child Gids put on blockers went on to irreversible cross-sex hormones.

After years in a Peter Pan state while their peers developed, they understandably felt there was no way back and forged on with treatment. Yet if allowed to experience natural puberty, almost 85 per cent of gender dysphoria cases resolve themselves.

Nor did Carmichael tell CBBC kids that the blockers-hormones combination, if taken early enough, not only results in sterility but kills the libido so that a young person will never experience an orgasm.

At the 2020 judicial review brought by a former Tavistock clinician and Keira Bell, the brave young detransitioner rushed onto hormones by Gids, judges expressed astonishment at Gids’s lack of an evidence base.

Reporting on this issue for seven years, I too have been struck by a complete clinical incuriosity. Not only was data not collected, but those who queried treatments or pressed for evidence faced angry condemnation. Perhaps activists knew what research might find because one long-term Finnish study, recently reported in the BMJ, destroyed the myth used to justify blockers: that a child will commit suicide if denied them.

The Finns found that “gender-affirming care” does not make a dysphoric child less suicidal. Rather, such children had the same suicide risk as others with severe psychiatric issues. In other words, changing bodies does not fix troubled minds.

Yet even after NHS England’s announcement, activists refuse to heed the now-overwhelming evidence. In its response, Stonewall persists with the myth that puberty blockers “give a young person extra time to evaluate their next steps”.

Many questions remain unanswered: will private clinics still be permitted to prescribe puberty blockers; and is Scotland’s Sandyford child gender clinic still determined to close its ears to all evidence? Plus, we have few details on how the NHS’s new “holistic” treatment for gender-questioning children will operate when it opens next month.

This repellent experiment — in which girls who like trucks or little boys who dress as princesses, and who invariably grow up to be gay, are corralled inexorably down a road towards life-changing treatments — belongs in the book of medical disgraces. As do the cheerleaders who raised money for Mermaids and those who persecuted whistleblowers or damned journalists asking questions as transphobic.

In 50 years, chemically freezing the puberty of healthy children with troubled minds will be regarded with the same horrified fascination as lobotomies — which, never forget, won the Portuguese neurologist Antonio Egas Moniz the 1949 Nobel prize.

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

{Article source (behind paywall)}

#i think it's going to be a lot sooner than 50 years tbh

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sinnabum45 · 7 months ago

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⚠Trigger Warning! Graphic depictions of suicide attempt, suicide ideation, and spiraling thoughts⚠

[Image description: black and white with gray tones, digital drawing of a comic about characters from the Ace Attorney series. Page one: First three panels are of Miles Edgeworth sitting at his desk, which is covered with papers, tired with eye bags and feeling frustrated with himself. His left hand is on his face and it moves back down. He thinks to himself, “What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I even do something as simple as this?” A flashback to Phoenix Wright glaring at Edgeworth, then saying, “It’d been better if you never came back from the dead, Edgeworth!” Pearl Fey is standing next to him with a shocked and worried expression. Page one end. Page two: Miles is shocked and his desk is now covered with sleeping pills and an open pill bottle. An embodiment of Manfred von Karma appears behind Miles and reaches for Miles’s face. Manfred says, “How selfish can you be? Can’t even do me the favor of simply dying. ” The embodiment turns into Miles when he attempted suicide. Messy hair, bloodshot eyes, dried tears, dark circles under his eyes, and pills pouring from his mouth. He is squeezing the real Miles’s face and says, “Why don’t you try it again?” Page two end. Page three: Miles shuts his eyes and covers his ears with his fists while shouting, “No!! I don’t need you anymore!”. He opens his teary eyes when he hears Phoenix say, “Edgeworth.” Miles remembers Phoenix telling him, “Please call me anytime. I want to be there for you this time, okay?”. In the flashback, it is bright, Phoenix is facing forward, smiling with a worried expression, and holding his phone. The present Miles looks forward and calmed down a little. He’s still shaken up a bit. Page three end. Page four: Throughout the three panels, Miles is reaching for his smart phone on the desk, pulls away, then grabs his phone. Quotes from various characters: Phoenix, Gant, Manfred, and Franziska are scattered throughout the page. First panel, “I never wanted to see you again! To think that your motivation for prosecuting trials was so selfish…” by Phoenix. “I can feel it. You and me… we’re the same.” by Gant. Second panel, “You can let what happened kill the prosecutor inside you, or you can let it help you grow. I’ll be waiting for you in court…” by Phoenix. “Our battle… begins now… so you had better prepare yourself, Miles Edgeworth!” by Franziska. Third panel, “You have fallen so far. All these years I guided you, raised you as my own. You and your father are my curse!” by Manfred. “A von Karma is someone who is destined to be perfect! You are no longer worthy of being a von Karma! And neither am I!” by Franziska. Page four end. Page five: Miles is calling Phoenix. It rings throughout the page. The embodiment of Miles yells, “Stop! He will just hate you more than he already does!”. He is crying as he says, “ Then… I’ll truly be alone.” He has both hands raised to around his collarbone level and ink is smudged on his right hand. Miles reaches for his face and it startles his embodiment. The last panel is brighter. Miles, with closed eyes and somber expression, is holding his own face and reassuring himself by saying, “Don’t worry… I trust him.” Miles’s chair is squeaking as he rocks back and forth while leaning on his desk. Page five end. Page six: It is single light page with the phone ringing and getting picked up. Then Phoenix answers, “ Hello? Edgeworth?”. Comic end. End description]

Links to help Palestine and other resources! 🇵🇸

[Plain text: Links to help Palestine and other resources! (palestine flag). End plain text.]

Some extra thoughts below! These are just my personal interpretations of what I watched. I'll try to make sense of what I'm saying LOL 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️

Again, trigger warning for suicide attempt+ ideation!

Something I noticed while skimming through Farewell, My Turnabout is the similarities between Miles and Adrian Andrews. They directly connected Franziska and Adrian at the end, but they kinda just "hinted" at Miles being similar to Adrian. The main thing that stood out to me is when Miles starts explaining how Adrian is putting up a façade by acting strong. The background fades to black (TWICE), which is something that mostly happens when it's something important, putting focus onto Miles while he talks about how Adrian "lost her will to live" after losing Inpax. Inpax was Adrian's "pillar of strength" and when Inpax comitted suicide, Adrian completely fell apart. She then started to act just like Inpax to cope with losing herself and her mentor. That sounds like the relationship between Miles (and Franziska) and Manfred.

Miles's and Franziska's whole life with Manfred was them depending on him to validate/approve of them. When Manfred left their lives, they started to fall apart trying to gain approval of a man who isn't there anymore. Franziska's confidence was chipped away throughout every case because she kept losing against Phoenix. Miles fell apart a lot quicker (cuz Franziska wasn't created until after--).

Throughout Rise from the Ashes, multiple characters point out how Miles was not doing well and it progressively gets worse. This honestly confused me because Phoenix did notice that Miles wasn't doing okay. He even told Miles that he needs to choose between killing the prosecutor within him or let it help him grow. This interaction is at the very end of the case. Idk if "killing the prosecutor within" was ever brought up before that, but that was interesting cuz I kept seeing people say that Miles wrote that in his note out of nowhere.

With everything that Miles went through in just 2 MONTHS- it makes sense to me if he was not okay. His whole life was uprooted again after 15 years, he was betrayed by almost everyone he trusted, his adoptive dad killed his biological dad and tried to blame it on him, he was brought out on a boat in the middle of the night and shot at, Gant+ Lana used his knife to stab a person's body and made him unknowingly transport it in his own car, Gant saying that he's just like him, etc. Like DAMN bro, what the heck 😭

Also, the thing that made me want to make this comic was when Phoenix told Miles that "everyone would be better off if he stayed dead". Imo, I think it's understandable why Phoenix is angry at Miles. He felt betrayed and couldn't face the fact that Miles isn't who he was when he was 9. There was a post talking about it in more detail, but I mostly agree with what they had to say about it. Phoenix put an unfair standard onto Miles and got hurt when Miles couldn't meet that expectation. He wanted to "save" Miles by solving the DL-6 case and then thought that Miles would go back to how he was when they were kids. When he realized that it doesn't work like that, at least not right away, he felt betrayed. I love that they wrote Phoenix, the protagonist, with these traits tbh. I think it's very interesting! I just wished that they added a scene where Phoenix apologized for saying that Miles should stay dead tho cuz that's never okay to say to anyone, let alone someone you care about and apparently "know better than anyone else" 👁👁

Another thing I noticed is how different the characters treat Adrian vs Miles with the topic of "death". For some reason they're very sympathetic and delicate with Adrian, but then tell Miles to die. Phoenix tells Miles that everyone would be better off if he stayed dead, but then calls Miles cold for telling Adrian that if she decides to "choose death", then it is of no concern to him. Which goes right into my next point.

Miles seemed like he really didn't want to bring up Adrian's suicide attempt and her mental illness. It seemed like they tried everything to get her to talk, but because Franziska told her not to testify, Adrian kept trying to stay quiet. Even the judge was trying to get her to testify by saying at this point, it's looking like she's guilty. In any other situation, what Miles said to her would be uncalled for, but this was literally life or death for Adrian. Also, with context, Miles said that regardless of what she decided to do after the trial, she needed to talk now. She was asking for someone to help her, but only she can accept that help. He could've definitely put it in a way better way tho like damn. I think he's projecting how he talks to himself onto Adrian tbh 👀 It's honestly just a really shitty situation for Adrian to be in cuz no matter the reason, she was forced to face her worst fear. If anyone is to blame for all this bs, it's definitely Matt Engarde and Juan Corrida imo-- 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️ Her illness was something Adrian would have to face sooner or later, it just sucks that it had to be like this 😢 Another thing I noticed is when Adrian said that if the truth of her illness were to come out she couldn't finish her sentence. Then Miles finished it for her by asking if she would "choose death". That's a more obvious clue that maybe Miles's note was a suicide note, since it was used in the context of committing suicide.

This guy is always on my mind-- All of them are always on my mind tbh 😭 I just wanted to draw Miles struggling (just the usual on this account) SKMSDKLML I also wanted to show that healing isn't linear and there are a LOT of times where it's just hard. I also wanted to show that Phoenix (and literally everyone else OvO) does want to be there for him despite everything, Miles just has to be brave and accept his support. I just want them to be happy DAMN 😭😭

I feel like I have so much more to talk about, but I can't think of anything else rn. I hope all of this makes sense- I'd love to read your thoughts on this or if you have any questions! Just keep it respectful, please 🥺

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pinkpearlgoddess · 10 months ago

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𓃠

PAC: How soon will your manifestation become reality ✨

Please remember all PAC (Pick a pile) readings are for entertainment purposes and should not be replaced for mental, physical or financial advice

Free readings: my free readings will be open very soon, I will also be offering exchange readings🐇

Pile 1:

Rebirth: Tower Card, Death Card

This pile has understood their own gift and method of manifestation, I feel like this pile has gone through its fair share of trial and error and have now understood which method works best for them. I see majority of you have already manifested a few things out of your list but there seems to be one or two main ones you are still working on bringing to reality. Be prepared for some major changes because to get these manifestation into reality I see a tower and death card moment that needs to happen. You have done a lot work when it comes to trying to manifest this in your life. However, the vision I’m seeing is for these manifestation to come to reality it’s not only practice but also a detox as they would not fit in your current life. March and April. Be prepared to see one of two of your major manifestation to come to reality. I don’t see you being surprised as you have been putting the work in. There is a strong inner knowing. Congratulations!

Key to make this work faster: Detox your life, anything that does not longer reserves you let go of it and NEVER and I mean NEVER look back

Pile 2:

Nurture: Feminine energy, Inner Child

This group has not yet seen anything come to reality as of yet. Some of you have one goal and one goal only but are struggling to understand why your manifestations have not come to light. I'm here to tell you there is a blockage in energy, one that has to do with personal inner growth and healing. I see a gray cloud near your sacral chakra and throat chakra. This group would do well to start writing daily in a journal. I also sense this group may overthink the manifestation method too much, trying multiple methods to see if they're doing it wrong. The key here is you need to be in the right mind space to start receiving from the universe or God, depending on who you believe in. Your manifestation will come to reality six months into creating a healthy routine that includes catering to your feminine energy and inner child healing (the inner child part will be painful to go through but also refreshing at the same time).

Key to make this work faster: Play subs during the night while you’re asleep, Journal literally everything in your life, start working on self care, stop overthinking about others and focus on yourself, speak your mind OUT LOUD and clearly, take walks in nature, start scripting from an “I AM” point of view including gratitude.

Pile 3:

Experimental: The Fool & The magician

key word: Consistency

Collective from this pile feel like new energy, new to the practical side of manifestation or have done a full reset and want to start from the beginning. Most of you have studied and explored the mindset point of view when it comes to manifestation and would now like to test the practical side of it. I see a lot of you being very sceptical due to an influxes of information coming in regarding manifestation. When it comes to the practical side of things and the work you put in it’s important you meditate on which methods you would like to start of with, which methods spiritually calls to you, not every method works for everyone. List all the methods that call to you and truly mediate of which one would best serve the manifestation you’re currently looking to achieve. One you have made the choice… practice consistently. This pile definitely rely on logic and practicality, so I see you guys being successful at this. There is a strong magician energy to you all, an academia background. You guys may even make a book documenting how your journey is going, what you’ve notice, what you would try in a different ways. There is no time frame because it doesn’t really seem like this pile is looking for a time but mainly a method to which works best for them. After mediating on a time frame and pulling a few cards, I feel you manifesting your first goal in 10 weeks to 12 weeks, Congratulations!

Key to make this work faster: Consistency is very important here: it should be part of your daily routine, part of your lifestyle, mental diet: learn about your mind and how you communicate to yourself

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trickphotography2 · 4 months ago

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'tis the damn season | Chapter 9

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Julie/Cece (OC, no physical description)

Word count: 6K

Synopsis: After six years away from home, Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin was finally going to make his parents happy and surprise his family by spending Christmas in Magnolia, Texas. Introducing his pregnant fiancee to his family is a culture clash, with rural Texas meeting California influencer. Though unhappy in his relationship, Jake knows he has to buckle down and do the right thing with a baby on the way.

The last person he expected to run into was his high school sweetheart and the one that got away, Julie.

The holidays are already going to be hard enough for Julie. Her home baking business, which had started as a fun side project, exploded after a few TikToks went viral. Just when she was getting the hang of juggling her job and business, tragedy struck. Facing her first Christmas as an orphan, the last thing Julie expected was to hear that once familiar nickname - Cece.

After almost a decade apart, Jake and Julie can't help but feel that old familiar spark. Even with the realities of their lives pressing in, they can't help but wonder what might have happened if just one of them had fought for their relationship all those years ago.

Chapter 8 | Master List | Ao3

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Chapter 9

"Hangman, my office - now."

Jake closed his eyes as the door to the Ready Room slammed shut, the silence after Cyclone's order already overwhelming. He could feel the other aviators staring and set down his nearly full cup of coffee, scrubbing a hand down his face. The soft clanking of his g-suit clips was the only sound in the room as he forced his head high and strode into the hallway, following in the air boss's wake.

Cyclone barked for him to come in when he knocked, and Jake stood at attention in front of his desk. He tried to keep his eyes on the wall over his shoulder, but he could see how the vice admiral clenched his jaw and heard the tap of his pen on the desk. "Sir -"

"Did I say you could speak, Lieutenant?" Silenced, Jake forced himself to take a breath and make sure he didn't slouch. It was another minute of tapping before his superior spoke. "I want to know why the hell the base is getting calls about your personal life…legal, the gate shacks, and even the base commander's office. And then I hear that it's not only us - Coronado is also hearing about your sex life. So why is that, Hangman?"

A wave of dread hit him. He hadn't thought, perhaps naively, that what Shayla did would get back to his job. He didn't live online - hell, his social media hadn't been updated in months, except for his ex tagging him in stuff, though his follower account was high. Cece's business was connected to her social media, so it had made sense for them to make that connection. But him? Why the hell would anyone call the fucking base? "Sir," he started again after clearing his throat. "I -"

"Save it. I've seen both videos." Cyclone ran a hand down his face before resuming his pen tapping while looking out the window. "Conduct Unbecoming," he muttered, and Jake froze. Catching this, Cyclone turned his gaze back to the younger aviator. "Conduct Unbecoming of an Officer and a Gentleman. They're tossing around the idea of hitting you with an Article 15."

Anger battled with worry at his pristine record being marked with disciplinary action. Being known for violating the Uniform Code of Military Justice. If he accepted it, an Article 15 would save him from a trial and court-martial, where he would face fines or confinement at best, lose a rank, or be dishonorably discharged at worst. The Article 15 still held a penalty. He could deal with a 30-day restriction or even his paycheck being halved for two months - it would hurt, but he could do it. But it could impact his ability to be promoted. Every time he went up for a rank, there would always be an asterisk next to his name and accomplishments. It would be on his Fitness for Duty report, marked under behavioral.

Because his fucking ex lied.

Her fucking lie made them think he'd acted dishonorably. Brought shame to the Navy. Impacted his ability to command subordinates. That her posting the video would impact his mission capability.

Jake swallowed hard, refusing to acknowledge the angry tears pricking his eyes. For years, he'd always thought his greatest regret would be letting Cece go in Virginia, but now he knew it was talking to Shayla that night at the Hard Deck.

The clicking of computer keys snapped Jake out of his shame spiral, and Cyclone's lips pressed into a thin line. "Activation orders are in your inbox. A new mission came in before the holidays, and I was going to wait to issue orders until after the new year, but the timing's perfect for getting you the hell out of my sight. The SEALs need aerial support and requested two of my best. Unfortunately, that includes you. You'll need to do a SERE refresher before deploying."

Jake's throat tightened at the mention of SERE. Like all pilots, he'd participated in Survival, Evasion, Resistance and Escape training. While the experience was invaluable, he could never entirely forget the feeling of being waterboarded or the screams of the woman in their squad who had been captured by the instructors and thrown into a pit. The rest of the team had been forced to listen, hiding in the grass as the instructors poured buckets of water over her until she was treading to keep her head above water, yelling at her to give up the intel.

"How long is the deployment, sir?"

"The earliest refresher course is in Kittery, so you'll be headed to Maine in three weeks, then back here for a month of training before deploying. The mission length is unclear, but we expect to be on radio blackout for its entirety. Now, get the fuck out of my office."

"Yes, sir."

"Oh, and Hangman?" Jake paused with one foot out the door. "Keep your private life off the goddamn internet."

"Sir."

Julie's eyes were heavy as she stared at her computer, resisting the urge to drop her head into her hands. Rather than head into the bank, she'd called out of work. She knew it was putting her supervisor in a bind, especially since a lot of the parents were still out taking care of their kids who were out of school for the holiday. Still, she would sit at the counter covering for the tellers instead of processing loan applications in her office. Opening herself up for that amount of scrutiny was too much.

Not only that, but she was so tired. After Jake left and Lucy finally went home to her family, Julie crawled back into bed. She could still smell Jake in her sheets, and when it became overwhelming, she got up and stood outside of Daddy's bedroom. After Lucy had helped her clean it the first time after he died, she'd only gone in to dust and change the sheets occasionally over the last 11 months. Daddy's clothes were still hung in the closet and tucked into the drawers, his wallet and watch still on the dresser. After a long moment, she crossed the bedroom, running her fingers along the furniture before slipping into the bed like she had so many times as a little girl after waking from a bad dream.

But this time, Daddy wasn't there to hold her until she went back to sleep, banishing the monsters from her imagination. "I miss you," she'd whispered, resting her hand on his pillows.

Sighing, she pushed to her feet and went to refill her coffee. She was almost out of creamer and knew a trip to the grocery store needed to happen. While her appetite was nearly non-existent, she knew she needed to eat. Without a working oven, her options were limited. Ally offered to drive down to the store with her truck to pick up a new oven and Will and Mr. Seresin to install it, but Julie was reluctant to see the Seresins. She had yet to answer Jake's call that morning or respond to his text.

I love you so much, Cupcake. We'll get through this. I'll call you later.

It was still on her mental list of things to do, along with replying to people requesting to cancel their orders with her. While her first instinct was to agree and issue a full refund, Lucy had put her foot down on that and pointed out that they'd signed contracts that outlined penalties for cancelations - they would get partial refunds if anything. Settling back at the kitchen table, Julie clicked on her next order email and scanned it before deleting it. And the next. And the next.

The fourth email was an actual inquiry for cake pops. The person had included a note in the comments.

I hope you and Jake are happy. His video made it look like you guys are meant to be. I hope this all dies down soon. I've always wanted to try your stuff, and I figured now would be a good time. Thanks for being my comfort creator on here!

Tears pricked her eyes as she reread the note. When Jake had sent her the link to his video after he'd posted it, she'd been too numb to react. After showing what his apartment looked like after Shayla had destroyed it was bad enough, but he'd lost his temper and laid out exactly what happened. His work with the greenscreen was wonky, but he shared the screenshots where she'd admitted to lying about the baby. He'd talked about their relationship, how he was never comfortable with her filming, and her begging to continue. How she'd cheated, and they'd broken up before telling him she was pregnant, and he wanted to do the right thing.

He admitted to not being open about who Julie was to him when they went home but pushed back on the idea that his family was rude to Shayla. Instead, he told them how she'd posted the "pregnancy announcement" video before they could tell them the news and how she hadn't respected their privacy. He confirmed that he was the one in Julie's video - she could have kicked herself for not catching when his wrist had briefly appeared in the background as she piped out macaron shells and he grabbed a cupcake pan to put in more liners - and anger colored his words when he talked about Shayla destroying her work.

"I want to be clear," he'd said, staring directly at the camera. "That I kissed Ce… Julie that night. But that was as far as it went. And it was a mistake that we both regretted immediately because I was still engaged to Shayla at that point. But nothing. Else. Happened. I…” He looked away and cleared his throat. "I was ready to agree never to see Julie again if that would have made Shayla feel more secure in our marriage. But we never got to that because she left her computer open, and I saw the texts to her best friend. And I did yell at her. And took my ring back. I was only at Julie's house that night because I couldn't stand to be under the same roof as someone who tried to trap me into a marriage with blackmail. Julie was my friend that night, and I needed that."

"I won't apologize for not staying with someone who lies and manipulates and intentionally hurts my loved ones. And that's what Shayla did. She hurt people to get you to watch her videos and get brand deals and free shit. She doesn't care about you or me or anyone but herself. But I do owe an apology to my family for bringing her with me, making you uncomfortable, and not being the son you raised. And, of course, to Julie - who has been family since we were kids and I've been in love with almost that long. I'll never be able to make up for the hurt I've caused, not just over the last week. I wasn't always honest with you when you deserved that, and I put myself and my career before you. You didn't do anything to deserve all of this except be there for an idiot who is still in love with you and couldn't hide it well. And I'll spend every day trying to make it up to you if you let me. I've been bad at keeping promises, but I want to keep the one of being your first and last kiss, Cupcake."

"And to everyone else, please just… leave her alone. Julie's the most selfless person I've ever met and doesn't deserve this. Hate me, hate Shayla, but leave her out of it. She's a good person, and those are hard to find."

He looked so defeated, hair a mess from running his hands through it and the dark circles under his eyes again. From the extent of the damage, Julie knew he wouldn't have gotten much sleep last night, either. Unlike herself, he probably didn't take the easier route and call out of work rather than face real life. He was probably facing it head-on with that bullheaded stubbornness he'd been known for as a kid.

After typing a quick quote for the cake pops with multiple decorating options, including a short 'thank you for your support!', she clicked into the next email. She closed when she saw a request for a macaron cake that read 'Happy Homewreckers!'. Tears trickled down her face as she breathed like Jake had taught her. She could get through this.

Lunch was rough. Jake could feel eyes on him as he took his tray to their usual table, sitting with his back to the wall and forcing himself to meet the gaze of everyone who looked at him. A few had the decency to look away quickly, but others leaned toward their buddies and whispered.

The Daggers circled around him, providing their unspoken support. Still, he knew they had questions for him and were just waiting for some privacy to ask. But he could have put up with it if Cece had just responded to his text. She hadn't said a thing since he'd sent her the link to his video, and he was starting to regret doing it without talking to her first. It was his fault this was happening, and he wanted to protect her as much as possible - but he should have at least given her the option of not doing it.

And now… now he had to tell her that he was deploying. Again. The very thing that had ended their relationship all those years ago. This time, though, he was going to tell her. Jake had to show that he'd changed for her to trust him. But, fuck… the idea of going through SERE again and then a blackout mission? Not being able to contact Cece or Will, his parents? Possibly missing Tyler's birth?

Cyclone may have picked him because of his record, but it also felt like this was a punishment.

Julie pulled her daddy's baseball cap low on her brow, ducking her head as she walked into the grocery store. The cart rattled loudly as she hurried down the aisles, avoiding as many people as possible as she stocked up on snacks and anything she could make in the microwave.

For as fast as she moved, the whispers moved faster. Clinging to that numb feeling, she tried to block them out, not even wondering how the older Magnolia population would be aware of internet drama. She would put money on Betty Roberts having spread the news far and wide. All she needed to do was get her stuff and get home, where she could go back to bed and pretend that this was a bad dream.

"- showing her face after all that?"

"Did you see his, though?"

"We all know the Seresin boy's been known to tell tall tales. Besides, you know what those two are like - they've always been all over each other."

Cheeks blazing, Julie ignored the loud conversation from the aisle, recognizing the town gossip's voice. And sure, as teenagers, she and Jake hadn't been the most conservative about public affection. But Betty made it sound like they'd been groping each other in public. She hadn't even touched Jake in public in over seven years, and that had been down in Austin. Keeping space between them had been her goal since he'd come back home. Because Jake's touch, his kiss was… well, it made her lose her head. It made her want to do things like pack a bag and start driving out to California to escape the scrutiny of their small town. It made her want to hide in his bed, covers pulled over their head and his sleepy gaze holding hers until the rest of the world fell away. Until she forgot why the walls she'd built so high were needed. It made her want to ignore the fact that the man she loved had the power to hurt her as no one else did.

There was a loud scoff, and Julie pressed her lips together, eyes closing as she willed herself not to feel. Not to acknowledge the women turning on the aisle and staring at her, shopping baskets dangling from their arms. She felt their stares like cobwebs on her skin as they neared, their whispers like daggers in her heart.

And then one struck true. "Her parents would be so ashamed."

Tears gathered behind her eyelids at the cruel words, a contradiction of Daddy's letter in her purse. Slowly, she turned to face Betty and her friend Joanne, the second-biggest gossip in town. "Are your lives so small," Julie said softly as they stopped behind her, "that you have to make yourself feel bigger by talking about others?"

"Excuse me?" Betty demanded, recoiling slightly.

Tossing the bag of frozen corn into her cart, Julie turned fully to face the two, her tone flat as she spoke again. "Do you think that people actually like you? That they look forward to seeing you coming toward them, knowing that they have to watch every word, every action, every breath they take in front of you because if they don't toe the line of what you deem appropriate, you'll tell the whole town?" Joanne's mouth fell open as Betty flushed bright red, drawing herself up.

"Why, I never -"

"Shut the hell up. You never shut the hell up," Julie sighed. "You talk, and you whisper, and you judge, and you make people feel horrible for just living their fucking life. And for some reason, you think that people care what you think, but the truth is that we all think that you're a nosey bitch."

"Julie Ryan!" Betty sputtered. "I don't know WHAT's gotten into you, young lady, but -"

"I'm done." And then, without another word, she turned and walked out of the store, abandoning her cart and her last fuck.

Holy shit, word on the street is that Julie FINALLY stood up to Betty Roberts!

Jake stared down at the text from his sister-in-law as he sat in his truck after work. While Cece hadn't contacted him all day, apparently, she'd been out and about in Magnolia. He let his head fall back and sighed, scrubbing a hand down his face. He wanted to return home - not in his apartment but Texas. Because if Cece had finally said something, things would have been bad.

Jake, have you heard from Julie? I stopped by her house, but she wasn't there. I wanted to check on her after what happened at the store.

The text from Mama worried him. Turning the ignition, he waited until his phone connected to Bluetooth before calling Cece. As it rang, he let his head fall back on the rest, and his eyes closed, anticipating her voicemail again. When she said they needed space, she'd promised not to disappear on him again, but it was starting to feel like that's what was happening. After managing seven years without her, it had only taken one week for Jake to miss her as much as he had when she'd left him back in Virginia. And now… now he didn't know if he would survive losing her again.

"Hello?"

"Hey, babe." Just the sound of her voice had his muscles relaxing and a tired smile creeping onto his mouth. "You okay?"

"I'm…" There was a long pause, and Jake's grip on the steering wheel tightened when he heard a choked inhale. "I think I did something stupid?"

"What's wrong? What happened, honey?" Cece didn't say anything, but he heard her take a shuttering breath. "Cupcake, is this about the grocery store?"

Her laugh was watery and brittle. "Of course, you heard about that already."

"Only that you did what everyone should have done to Betty Roberts a long time ago, but not specifics." He heard her chuckle before gasping, and his heart broke at her sob. "Cece…" The only sound on the other side of the line was her crying, and Jake wanted to pull her into his arms so badly. Instead, he pinched the bridge of his nose and swallowed hard.

"I-I called her a n-nosey b-bitch." Jake snorted, which made her wail, "It's not funny, Jacob!"

"I'm sorry, honey," he laughed. "You're right, it's not funny. It's fuckin' hilarious and well-deserved. You're a goddamn hero for finally sayin' it to her face when everyone's been sayin' it behind her back for decades."

Cece sniffled, and his hand flexed around the wheel. "You… you don't think Mama and Daddy would be ashamed of me?"

Rage blinded him. "Did that bitch say that?" he demanded. When she hummed an affirmative, he slammed his fist onto the top of the steering wheel while cursing under his breath. "Honey," he said through clenched teeth, "you know that's not true, right? Your parents loved you and would never have been ashamed of you. Your daddy told me all the time how proud he was of you. And your Mama loved you so damn much that she probably would have told Betty off herself, just like she did that woman who said somethin' about the pie you submitted to the fair."

"What?" There was confusion in her voice, and Jake chuckled.

"You know - when you entered a kids' baking competition when we were eight or so for the summer fair. I heard one of the other girl's mom's makin' a comment about how your pie wasn't as pretty as her daughter's, and your Mama told her that it's a good thing that she wasn't picked as one of the judges because she wouldn't know a pretty pie if it was shoved in her face."

"My mama said that?" Cece asked, laughing wetly.

"Yup. That's why we spent so much time by the quilts that year - our mamas weren't quiet about how much they thought her submission wasn't up to snuff."

"I… I remember the quilt but didn't know about the pie."

"Your mama was proud of everything you did, Cece." When she was quiet, he sighed and started to pull his truck out of its spot. "What're you doin' tonight, honey?"

"Um… not much."

"Any chance you'd be willing to let me see your gorgeous face? I'm driving home now, but we could do a video call in about an hour."

“I… um…” The hesitation killed him, but then she spoke again. "I'm not sure what my internet situation will be tonight." That made him laugh.

"I know Magnolia's a bit behind the times, but the wifi wasn't bad."

"I'm not in Magnolia." Easing onto the road, he frowned.

"Did you go get your oven?" Her groan made him smile.

"No, but that probably would have been the smarter thing to do."

"Where'd you go?"

"Arizona."

"Ari -" Jake's foot slammed on the break before he blew a stop sign, and he stared down at his phone as though he could see her face. "What the hell are you doing in Arizona?"

"Well, I'm not there yet," she said after a beat. "I'm still in New Mexico, but close to the border, so I'll be there soon."

“Why…what the… Cece, why are you in New Mexico? Why are you going to Arizona?!"

Her nervous laugh was drowned out by someone hitting their horn, and Jake glanced in his rearview mirror before slowly moving forward. He tried to keep his attention on the road, but it was hard. "Did you know the Grand Canyon is only about 10 hours from Magnolia? And I've never been."

"The Grand… you're going to the Grand Canyon? In December?"

"Why not?" Her tone was defensive, and he knew he needed to tread carefully.

"It's not… the best time for sightseeing." His reasoning felt flimsy even to himself. "And what about work?"

"I need to concentrate on driving," Cece replied after a long pause.

"Baby -"

"I'll call you later when I stop for the night."

"At least tell me you're gonna get a hotel. I don't want you to sleep on the side of the road. I can get you one -"

"I can afford a fucking hotel, Jake!" Shocked at her outburst, he stayed silent, listening to her heavy breathing. "I'm not a child. I can take care of myself."

"I know that."

"Do you?" she hissed. "Or are you just like everyone else, thinkin' I've been waiting for you all this time? That poor, pathetic Julie Ryan always needs someone to look after her? That my whole world stopped the day I left Virginia, and I've just been waiting for you to come back to me? Do you know that everyone - EVERYONE - thinks that you left me? And I let them because you weren't there to defend yourself, and it was too hard to convince them otherwise?"

"Ce -"

"I didn't tell them that Golden Boy Seresin was a liar who couldn't even tell the woman he was supposed to marry that he was leaving AGAIN. That I had uprooted MY WHOLE LIFE for you, and you didn't even have the decency to tell me that you were leaving. You just let me look like an idiot in front of all the other spouses. Let me think that we were gonna have the wedding and start our lives together - all while you were keeping a huge secret from me." Jake's heart shattered when her voice cracked. Pulling to the side of the road, he slung an arm over the steering wheel and rested his forehead on it.

"Honey, I'm sor -"

"I protected you all this time. I put my dreams aside for yours and was okay with that. All I asked for was honesty, and you couldn't even give me that. And when I finally - FINALLY - had something that was mine and only mine, something that I loved and built and put in the hard work for… you ruined it, Jake. You took it from me." For a long time, there was only the sound of her panting breath over the line.

"I'm so sorry, Julie. I never meant to hurt you," he rasped.

"I know that, and that's the hardest thing about all this - you never had to try to hurt me. I just let you."

Tears dripped down his face as he listened to her cry. "I…I don't know…baby, I'm sorry. Tell me how to fix this, and I'll do it."

"I don't think you can. There's nothing… we've been moving toward this since we were 18, Jake. And maybe now it's time to just throw in the towel."

"No." Clearing his throat, he spoke firmly and sat up. "No, I'm not givin' up on us, Cece. I love you. You're the only woman I've ever loved, and I won't lose you again."

"You love who I was when we were teens. You don't know me now."

"Then let me. Come out here, and let's figure this out."

Her laugh was brittle, "That's the problem right there. You always ask me to do the hard thing without realizing it - I have to come to you. I can't have a career because yours is more important. I have to make myself small so you can be the big shot you always wanted to be."

"I… I can't get leave to come home, Cece. Please, you know I would if I could. But I -"

"I don't know you would. You've never had to make the sacrifices in our relationship." Her words were like a slap to the face.

"That's not true." That only made her laugh, and he felt a rush of anger. "You think I wanted to be away from you all the time? Is that what you think? When you said you thought you were pregnant, I was ready to give it all up - the Academy, flying, all of it. And you're saying I didn't make any sacrifices?"

He could feel the hurt across the open line and opened his mouth to apologize when she cut him off. "Well, it's a good thing I wasn't pregnant then or after we fucked at the bar, so you never had to decide between me or your dreams. Because, unlike you, I don't think I could have lived with ruining yours."

The call ended as Jake stared out the windshield, trying to comprehend what Cece said. Had she thought she was pregnant after they'd hooked up in Austin? Was that why she'd run away from him in the grocery store? Scrambling for his phone, he dialed her number, hanging up and calling again when it was sent to voicemail.

Just like his next ten calls.

Cold seeped into Julie's skin as she watched the sky turn indigo as the sun rose. Snow blew around her, and the news warned of a blizzard that day. The smart thing to do would be to head back into town and climb back into her hotel bed, but she couldn't tear her gaze away from the beautiful sight before her.

There was something so peaceful about sitting there, her racing thoughts finally silent. Tears pricked her eyes as the wind whipped her hair into her face. As the light started to kiss the canyon's rim, her eyes were drawn down into its depth. Snow dotted the upper rim, disappearing further down.

Gorgeous. And only a day's drive away from home.

The thought had her reaching into her pocket and retrieving her phone. Daddy's lawyer had sent her the bank account info for Mama's travel account. Ignoring the red bubbles alerting her to the missed calls and texts, she navigated to her email and clicked on the encrypted message. Cell service was spotty, but she memorized the login information.

Her finger hovered over the texts, curiosity warring with peace. She'd seen the preview of Jake's message as she lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. It had started with an apology, and it took everything in her not to apologize to him. She'd never meant for him to hear the arguments and thoughts she'd bottled up for years, but they'd spilled out at the first opportunity. Julie's resentment toward him had been overwhelming and now was tinged with regret for hurting him with the truth. But she'd carried that hurt in silence for so long. Everything about their relationship from the moment he was accepted into the Naval Academy had been about him. Hell, even their spring breaks in South Carolina had been to make his life easier - the times she'd asked to meet in Florida or for him to come to Texas, he'd pleaded for her to go to him. He was so tired between school and training, and he wouldn't have the summers to relax like she would. So, she went across the country every March to spend time with him instead of going on trips with her friends. He'd only met her college friends at graduation, while she'd spent a week with his every year.

Instead of looking at the texts, Julie took a picture of the sunrise and sent it to Lucy. When she'd called from the road to let her know that she was heading out of town, her best friend had been worried and made her promise to check in. The picture was slow to send in their text thread, and Julie took the opportunity to scroll through their messages. Pictures of her kids and husband were sprinkled throughout. There was a video of Joey asking for a monster truck birthday cake and Julie crouching next to Emma at her ballet recital.

Sniffling, she shoved the phone back into her pocket and stared at the sunrise, trying to force away her thoughts. But they raced in opposite directions - ten hours east to Magnolia and nine hours west to San Diego. If she was at home, she would be getting up soon and heading to work, or having breakfast with Ally. Out west, Jake was probably waking and getting ready to go to the base.

Her breath misted in the air when Julie sighed. The wind was picking up, and she knew she'd need to get back to town before the storm blew in, but it was hard to tear her gaze away from the canyon. A car door slammed, and she jumped, turning to see two people climbing out of their vehicle. They nodded, and she smiled back as they stood a bit further from her and looked at the sunrise.

When her fingers started losing their feeling, and the sky was a beautiful pink and orange, Julie returned to her car. As it heated, she took a deep breath and pulled up Jake's texts. They were full of apologies and pleas for her to answer the phone. He wanted to know if she'd thought she was pregnant after they'd seen one another in Austin. That made her cringe. She regretted telling him like that, especially after everything that happened with his ex. He promised to try harder if she would just pick up. He wanted to come home, but he was just told about a mission he was being sent on and wouldn't be able to.

I only have 3 weeks until I leave, and we won't be able to talk. Please, baby, don't let it end like this. I love you, and I know I haven't always been the best at showing it, but I want this to work.

A lump rose in her throat at the thought of him leaving again, and she paused before sending him the same picture she'd sent Lucy. We'll talk before you go, but I need space right now.

The technology gods were clearly on Jake's side because the message went through quickly and was marked as read almost immediately. Three dots appeared on the screen, and Julie bit her lip while watching them flicker. Finally, the message appeared. Beautiful, but not as beautiful as you. I love you, Cupcake.

After a moment, she typed back Love you too, Farm Boy.

Quickly closing the message, she pulled up the banking app and entered her Mama's travel account information. She hesitated before closing her eyes and hitting the login button. Slowly, after a few seconds, Julie peeked at the screen. The amount made her breath catch. Tears flooded her eyes as she stared at the number.

Fumbling for her purse, she grabbed Daddy’s letter, skimming the words until she found what she was looking for.

I put her life insurance payout there and have added a little every year. All you have to do is contact my lawyer, who'll give you the account numbers and start the transfer. I should have given it to you before, but… well, the reason always changed. But now that you have it, I want you to do whatever you want with that money. If you want to travel like your Mama wanted? Do it. You want to go back to school? Perfect. Start your bakery? You'll be so successful. Buy a house? I only ask that it's somewhere other than Magnolia. Sell the house and put the money toward your next dream.

Be selfish, baby. Treat yourself to whatever you want - as long as it's what you want.

Looking over the dashboard at the sunrise over the Grand Canyon, Julie started to cry at the memory of her Mama reading her books before bed, building worlds in her mind. Her daddy pinching pennies as she grew up and helping her bake late into the night. Lying in the back of Jake's truck and talking about all the places they would see when they were married.

The money wouldn't solve everything, but it was enough to give her space to breathe and figure out what she wanted to do. It, along with her moving fund, would give her what she needed most—time.

As she pulled out of the parking lot, she could almost hear Mama's voice. "You and me, baby girl, we're gonna see the world one day."

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

Author's Note: Soooo... thank you for you patience with me getting this out. I had some difficulty with this chapter, because I was struggling between going with my original ending and one that was less angsty. I went with the original (the other option was Cece driving to Jake's after because they didn't have a fight, and her meeting the Daggers). But Cece needed to finally let Jake know how she was feeling, and Betty may have been just the push she needed.

SERE training is no joke. I stole the story about the woman being thrown in the pit from my best friend's husband (former military intel guy), who still has issues with the smell of peppermint to this day because he hid in a patch of it while it was happening. They no longer waterboard soldiers, but that practice only stopped in the 2000s, I believe.

Also, the next chapter will be the last one in this series 🫣 (Edit, there will be an epilogue)

Read Chapter 10

Taglist: @buckysteveloki-me

@fanficfandomlove

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@kmc1989

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If you would like to be tagged for any or all of my writing, please fill out my tag form (hyperlinked)

#top gun fic #top gun maverick #jake seresin #Hangman top gun #soft!Jake Seresin #hangman fic #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x oc #hangman x oc #'tis the damn season fic

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januaryembrs · 1 year ago

Text

LAST KNIGHT IN SOHO MASTERLIST

DESCRIPTION: She’s all Steven can think about in between the missing days and the American man inside his head. When Harrow’s jackals leaves Marc with a difficult choice, his hectic life is spun out of control as Seth, God of Violence and Chaos, comes to reap his reward in the form of a woman from Soho with a dark past and a crush on Steven Grant. (Lightly inspired by Last Night in Soho dir. Edgar Wright)

TRIGGER WARNINGS: (specific warnings at the beginning of each chapter) 18+ DARK PAST. Sex trafficking/prostitution. Grooming. Explicit. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Abuse ex-boyfriend/lover, death, murder, gore, drug use. Any smut written will be consensual sex only, but there will be some implication to dubcon content. PLEASE CHECK WARNINGS BEFORE YOU READ. AGAIN MINORS DNI. * = smut warning

STEVEN GRANT & MARC SPECTOR X (EVENTUAL) AVATAR!READER. Friends to lovers trope (Steven Grant) Sunshine x Grumpy trope (Marc Spector), Light smut, explicit language, no use of Y/N, goes by nickname Dove. I ADORE LAYLA EL-FAOULY so she is still in the narrative but as Dove’s reluctant friend. Female!reader. AFAB!reader. I am English and do not have DID but have tried my best to do all the research I could on the themes I talk about (Ancient Egyptian culture/history/language. Experiencing DID etc) but if I am misinformed and offend anyone, know I am truly sorry and am more than happy to hear anyone’s corrections in my inbox and will do my best to fix it!

main masterlist

CHAPTER ONE - Steven finds his life slowly turning upside down when the man in the mirror starts talking back, he's sleepwalking all the way to the Alps, and the woman he's besotted with from work finds herself more caught up in all of it than he'd ever wanted.

CHAPTER TWO - She wakes up with a killer headache and a million questions when she realises two things: 1. the man in her room is not infact Steven Grant and 2. her body no longer belongs to her but to the God of Death.

CHAPTER THREE - With Marc and Steven captured by Harrow's men, Layla has no choice but to work with her ex-husbands mistress to get them and the scarab to safety. But things take a turn when Seth comes to reap his reward.

CHAPTER FOUR - Dove wakes up in Steven’s apartment for the second time covered in blood with only one thing on her mind. What the hell happened last night?

CHAPTER FIVE - Marc and Dove adjust to their new mission: catch Harrow before he can release Ammit and for the love of gods don’t let Seth have the body again.

CHAPTER SIX - Summoning a council with the gods sound easy enough, right? Except the man on trial knows the dark secret she has yet to tell Marc.

CHAPTER SEVEN - Marc, his ex-wife and his supposed mistress head to Mogart’s to find Senfu’s sarcophagus, whatever could go wrong when the god of Chaos wants to be involved?

CHAPTER EIGHT - Dove, Marc and Layla escape Mogart’s with only more dead ends and questions unanswered. They’re running out of time before Harrow reaches the tomb, but one thing keeps sticking in Layla’s head more than the rest. Why does Dove look so guilty?

CHAPTER NINE * - Layla, Steven and Dove set off towards Ammit’s tomb across the dunes, only Steven and Dove have a heavy confession they’ve each been meaning to make.

CHAPTER TEN - Marc finds out the truth about Dove, and pays the mortal price.

CHAPTER ELEVEN -

CHAPTER TWELVE -

CHAPTER THIRTEEN -

CHAPTER FOURTEEN -

CHAPTER FIFTEEN -

Comment or send an ask to be tagged in new chapters!

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captain-mj · 1 year ago

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Trials of Change

Ghost overhears Soap and a couple of recruits complaining about him and decides maybe he does need to be fixed.

Ghost had never been happier honestly. Really. He and Soap had been dating for… two months, four days and, he checked the time, six glorious hours.

Maybe that happiness made him blind. Foolish or even just stuipd.

Ghost slipped into the room where the other people were. It wasn’t on purpose that he was undetectable. His natural state of being was… well… Ghost.

So he heard the conversation.

Price hummed. “How’s it going with him?”

Soap smiled. “Oh, he’s great.”

“Is he planning on wearing the mask less?”

Ghost internally winced. He understood Price was just asking out of concern. Price was one of the first people to understand that Ghost and Simon were both different people and the exact same.

Soap shrugged. “Don’t know. I wish he would.”

Ghost knew that was true so he didn’t mind it, but he decided to wait a second and not announce his presence. He just sat back to listen.

“Thank God.” One of the rookies piped up. Ghost tensed and glared at them, though they couldn’t feel it unfortunately. “Tired of him walking around all scary. We were all hoping he’d get better when you guys started dating.”

Ghost didn’t understand.

Better? What did they mean better? He was happier. Wasn’t that enough?

Soap looked rueful. “Yeah. I’d like that too. He spooks me sometimes.”

Ghost felt his heart just drop. He was sure if he strained he could hear the sound of it snapping. Ice shards being sent off everywhere. After a moment, he decided to stay where he was. Safe and sound.

As everyone seemed to list off his transgressions.

Did they know he was there and deciding to mess with him? It was right up Soap’s alley, but the rookies usually feared him enough to stay quiet. He doubted they would pick up on what was going on fast enough.

“Please make him wear something with color.”

Soap shrugged. “His closet is nothing but black.”

“Tell him to put something besides his music on.”

Soap rebutted that one too. “He hates my music and you guys don’t get a vote.”

Then the complaints came a bit faster.

“Make him actually talk to people.”

“And stop hiding in his room. It’s a bit creepy at this point.”

“Also why can’t he ever make friends on base?”

“Anger issues. He’s constantly getting pissed for no reason.”

“Please make him take off the mask.”

“And stop staring.”

“And also please stop letting him out at night.”

“Why are you breaking curfew to see him out at night?” Soap remarked, crossing his arms. The recruits cringed and quickly found something interesting in the room to stare at. That’s when Ghost made his escape.

He wasn’t an idiot. He knew people wanted him to change. Always something off putting. It had been like that since he started wearing long sleeves at all time to hide bruises and sleeping through class because his dad kept him awake all night.

But this was new. Did Soap want him to change?

Of course he did.

“Better”

What did better mean?

Soap had been asking him questions lately. Simple things. How was your day? How are you feeling? What do you feel like doing? And Ghost would answer honestly. The bad days had definitely decreased. Ghost enjoyed being around the 141 more. He thought he had been talking more. Just to the 141, Alex, Farah, Alejandro and Rodolfo, but really who else did he need? They all saw him as he was and he thought that was enough.

Apparently not.

Apparently that was not better.

Well, he had a list of things that he could be better at now. Ghost felt stupid. A silly teen trying to keep their boyfriend around.

For a moment, he thought of forgetting this conversation happened. Of taking what Soap would give him and waiting to be abandoned when Soap realized that Ghost was incapable of being what he wanted. But already, he knew this would poison everything. Anytime Soap put his scarf around Ghost because he ran so much colder than his angry Scott or when he asked him to take his mask off when they were alone or every time he introduced him to someone new, he’d wonder if it was somehow a way to change him.

Could he just break up with him? It was the smartest and easiest thing. Shove Soap out of his life and stay exactly where he is. But that meant not having Soap. No more late night tea trips with someone by his side. He’d no longer be there to put hickeys on his neck that he’d grumble about and then secretly like. All the jokes and stolen clothes and the touch. He had forgotten how nice it was to have someone touch him. To put his head on someone’s chest (he hated weight on him because it reminded him of the dirt from the coffin) and hear their heartbeat. Nice and steady and sweet.

Fuck, Ghost couldn’t give that up. He’d also never be able to drink enough of it in to get his fill. So he’d have to be… better.

Maybe he could start small. It was silly, but color was probably the easiest. Wear something besides black.

He didn’t own anything not black.

Fucking hell.

Ghost took a deep breath. Maybe he could start with… music? When did they even play music? During exfil occasionally if Nik was driving? But he didn’t have a mission with Soap for the next few weeks so he could see it regardless.

Anger issues? Yeah, Ghost had them but he didn’t think he ever blew up for no reason. Maybe his reactions were occasionally over the top, but he never hit anyone. Never hit objects near them to show he could either. His last meltdown was months ago and he had, with shockingly no protest but still with a very hurt pride, apologized to the person.

Goddamnit, he just needed a starting place. That’s all. So color it fucking was.

Ghost went to Gaz, hesitant and nervous, but he was the only person he could really ask about this without it being suspicious since he wasn’t there.

“Hey, Garrick.”

Gaz looked up from what he was reading. “Riley!” He liked that about Gaz. When he had first referred to him as Kyle, Gaz had called him Simon. If he used his rank, Gaz responded with his rank. Ghost had learned to stick to last name or callsign with him. They felt more like equals than most of the other people on base.

“Can you help me with something?”

Gaz sat up. “A mission?”

“Where can I get… clothing?”

Gaz paused. “You… The Ghost… want me to help you with shopping?”

Ghost nodded awkwardly. “Yeah… Can we go… shopping?”

Gaz slowly stood up. “Why?”

“I’m going to try changing my style.”

“Why?”

“Just… want to try something… different?”

Gaz frowned and Simon remembered why he didn’t usually go to Gaz for assistance. They could see straight through him. Every time. “You want to try something… different? Why? You’ve never changed in the years I’ve known you.”

Ghost just shrugged awkwardly.

“Alright. Let’s go.” Gaz stood up and pulled his shoes on. “What are you searching for?”

“Something with… color?”

Gaz frowned but obliged. He couldn’t bring Ghost to a mall, worried the people would get him worked up. So instead, he brought him to a strip of stores and picked the most abandoned one. Gaz didn’t really do much, having a feeling he was more playing moral support for whatever breakdown this was. It wasn’t… completely uncommon for Ghost to get the urge to do things. Almost like a mania. However it was never something as simple as this.

He gave Ghost’s a thumbs up when the man grabbed a blue hoodie. Dark blue, so still in theme. Then he grabbed a camo green and ruby red. Nothing but hoodies.

“You going to stick with your normal dark color scheme?” It was a genuine question from Gaz, who was worried about him. Also, depending the answer, it would be easier to help him find things.

Ghost wondered if this was… different enough. “Can you pick something that… isn’t?”

Gaz tilted his head and looked around. He found a polo shirt in a softer green color. “Do you want to try it on before buying it? Make sure you’re comfortable.”

Ghost bounced between his feet, debating. “Yeah.” He found a dressing room and slowly slipped off his black hoodie. The mirror was there. His arm tattoos covered the scars there, but he still felt nervous.

Now his shirt.

Just… take off the shirt.

Take it off.

Ghost pulled it over his head in a rush but he still caught himself in the stupid mirror.

Ugly scarring.

Did Soap not like those? Ghost had tried things to make them fade. Balms and creams and keeping them clean. They were still there. Dark, thick lines. Giant pieces of flesh that were marred for one reason or another.

What if Soap hated those too? Ghost certainly did. It’s why he stayed covered up.

He pulled the new shirt on and didn’t look at himself. The fabric was… fine. Not the best, but fine. The color looked weird against his pale skin.

This was stupid. Again, the feeling of being a teen girl appeared. Was this childish? Of course it was.

He bought the clothing anyway, even though it made his skin crawl.

Gaz smiled at him once they were back in the car. “I’m proud of you.”

Ghost nodded. “Thanks, Gaz.”

“No problem, Ghost.”

Ghost grabbed food and hid in his room to eat. He perched on his desk.

Soap arrived moments later and smiled, sitting on Ghost’s desk chair so they were right next to each other. “Hey, haven’t seen you today.”

“Went out.”

“You went out? By yourself?” Soap sounded so shocked.

Ghost shrugged. “I had Gaz with me.”

“That’s nice! I’m glad you’re doing that.” Soap smiled at him. “Have fun?”

Ghost thought about it. Honestly, when he wasn’t focused on what they were doing, it wasn’t too bad. Hanging out with Gaz, even if they didn’t really talk much, was pretty fun.

“Get anything?”

“More hoodies since you keep stealing mine.”

Soap smiled. “Hell yeah. It’s not my fault you have better taste in hoodies. They’re always so soft and big and smell like you.”

“They’re big because they’re meant to fit me.”

Soap leaned up and kissed his cheek. After having to deal with the people at the store, Soap’s presence was honestly a bit of a balm to his frayed nerves.

Until he thought of why he had gone out.

“Are you content with me?”

Soap paused, looking a bit confused. “Simon, I’m happy with you. Why do you ask?”

“Nothing. Just wondering.”

Johnny hummed. “Take your mask off for me.”

Simon did. He wanted to be what Johnny expected. To change how he was supposed to. Callused fingers ran over his cheekbones. Touching his jaw.

“Beautiful.”

Wrong.

“Did something happen?” Soap was too perceptive.

“No.”

Soap frowned and leaned up, kissing him more. “Alright. Ye won’t talk to me. I won’t push ya.” He cupped his face. “Just talk to me when you’re ready then.”

Ghost frowned. “Nothing wrong. But I will if anything comes up.”

Soap smiled. “All I ask.”

The next time they were in the car, Ghost put on some pop music. It wasn’t what he’d normally listen to. It was just a random list of the top 100 hits. Soap noticed and looked at him oddly. “Where’s your normal rock music?”

Ghost normally made a radio each time they were going to do something together. All of it heavy rock music or metalcore. That was… bad though. Price called it his angry mix and he was trying to not do that. Not to be like that.

Be different.

“Wanted to change it up?” It came out too much like a question.

Soap frowned. He liked all types of music just fine, but Ghost didn’t. Ghost was predictable. Ghost only “Changed it up” when on leave when he listened to classical music. A fact only Soap got to know.

“You’re acting different.”

Ghost shrugged and focused on driving. The other guys seemed on edge now Something was clearly off about him now. It made everyone nervous.

It was exacerbated when Ghost wore colors at the next taskforce meeting. Even Gaz, who had been there when he bought it, looked very uncomfortable when he wore a soft shade of red hoodie and medical mask instead of his balaclava. They all kept glancing over and… looking confused.

Ghost looked at Soap. He ignored that his skin prickled at the attention and the change. That the fabric was itchy against his skin. Or that being so exposed made him want to die right there. None of that quite mattered as much as Soap’s expression. He didn’t look pleased at all. No excitement that Ghost tried to be different. Just… a strange look.

Ghost felt sick. He felt nauseous.

Soap cornered him after the meeting and took him to his bedroom.

Ghost felt like a kid, just sitting on his bed as Soap stared at him.

“I was just trying to be what you wanted.” Simon admitted, yanking the hoodie off. “I heard you and the recruits complaining about me. I just… wanted you to like me.”

Johnny paused and softened. “Simon. I’m sorry. I was letting them complain because you’re their boss. Which I shouldn’t have. Gotta so caught up in you being Ghost, my Lt, I let them disrespect Simon, my boyfriend.” He sank down, getting on his knees in front of him. “All of this… Making yourself so uncomfortable and forcing yourself to change… You tried to do for me?”

Ghost winced. “It’s pathetic. I know. Just…”

Johnny laughed and pulled the medical mask down to kiss him. “Mo chroí. It’s not pathetic. I’m so sorry. If I had known, I would’ve cleared it up for you.” He kissed him a few more times. “I love your angry music and your dark clothing and the fact you only casually show your face to me. And I wouldn’t change you for the world.”

Simon relaxed a little. “Keep going.”

Johnny laughed. “Alright. I like that you’re mean to recruits because you want them to toughen up. You don’t listen when anyone suggests anything because you know you’re going to ignore it and I find it fun. Especially because you listen to me. I like that you’re a little pretentious about your music and that I get to wear your black hoodies. That you have two pairs of pants and that’s all you wear. On leave, I love that you wear a ton of rings. That you’re grouchy in the mornings even though you get up at 5 am when working. I love you, Simon.”

Simon pulled them back so they were laying in bed and Soap continued without a beat. “I love that you wake up at 2 am and make you tea and me a cup of coffee. Love that you sneak into my room all the time and that you steal the blankets. I-”

Simon kissed him. “Alright. You can stop now. I get it.”

“I can keep going. Anytime you want me to.” Johnny promised. “Also, I tore into them later. I wanted you to know. Made fun of all of them.”

Simon laughed and relaxed more into the bed, feeling Johnny pepper kisses on him. “Love you too.”

#johnny soap mactavish #captain john price #ghostsoap #soapghost #simon ghost riley #soap cod #cod mw2 #ghost cod #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare ii

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actual-changeling · 10 months ago

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I was once again re-watching good omens, and I once again realized something incredibly painful, so welcome back to

Alex's unhinged meta corner.

I really need to make a masterpost at some point.

You see, the very first episode not only foreshadows their last argument, it also tells us exactly why it will happen and what problem/offer they will have to face.

We don't usually pay much attention to it because it's a) in the very first episode and then doesn't come up again and b) we know that Crowley would never accept it.

My realization is that Beelzebub's offer mirrors the Metatron's. Both Crowley and Aziraphale are given the same kind of opportunity—but one says no and the other says yes.

Let's have a look!

This is not going to be chronological but more of a go with the flow thing because the aspects are the same but they don't appear in the same order.

The most obvious part first: the job offer itself.

Beelzebub offers him a promotion and later on specifies that he can be a Duke of Hell, one of the few people in charge. I believe that if Gabriel and Beez' plan had been to run away together from the very beginning, ze would have offered Crowley zir own job as Prince of Hell. Still, being a Duke would probably put him in a standing similar to Michael or Uriel's.

The Metatron obviously offers him the job of Supreme Archangel, which is the highest possible position for an angel to hold, aka it's the same promotion, just different colours.

Both offers also stem from the exact same problem—Gabriel is gone.

Now, Beelzebub and the Metatron aren't stupid, they know that they need to convince them to take it, they have to embellish it and play with their wants and fears.

Beelzebub presumably makes the correct assumption that Aziraphale is hiding Gabriel or that the two of them are somehow involved (because they always are), and while ze uses it as a threat/warning, the Metatron takes what is now fact and uses it in the opposite way.

Additionally, ze trusts Crowley to not only deliver Gabriel back to zem but to take care of him until he's safe and sound with his partner.

'I trust you with him' -> 'He trusted you with himself'.

I will now do a little jump to the last part of Aziraphale's conversation with the Metatron right in front of the lift. Once again, they appeal to a characteristic Crowley and Aziraphale share.

'You know earth and that is a useful asset.' What has previously been punished and was seen as a weakness—what is he, he has gone native, you've been down here for too long—is now praised.

It's good that you know earth, we see that you are worth something, you are different but that is good now.

Crowley does not care about that at all, he gives exactly zero fucks about what hell thinks of him, but Aziraphale? Who has been trying to impress the Archangels for six thousand years and been humiliated by them during Armageddon? This is what he has been craving all along, respect for his job on earth and to be recognized as a Good Angel.

Well, that was the carrot, time for the stick: threats.

They remind them of their respective status—they're both traitors, personae non gratae, and they could still be punished for that. After the trial, they were largely left alone, but they drew attention to themselves again, they became a problem.

The Metatron is more subtle, as usual. He knows that Aziraphale lied his ass off several times, including directly in front of God. This is not a just compliment, it's a threat—I know who you are and I have the power to make you feel that

'You don't just tell people what they want to hear.' Again, they are sitting at this table and both know that the opposite is true, and the Metatron is both using it to threaten him and to establish the clear expectations he will have for him should he take the job. Also, by saying he thinks Aziraphale is those things, he gives him more praise, more respect.

Both sides know that Aziraphale and Crowley are each other's biggest weakness; they want to be safe and together. I think it is clear what kind of threat/danger Beez is presenting Crowley, but we rarely talk about the fact that the Metatron also threatens him, just not as explicitly.

Aziraphale will be destroyed if they find Gabriel with him, and Crowley cannot let that happen. However, contrary to heaven, hell has more or less known about the two of them for decades, and they never actually cared about the arrangement as long as the job got done. They punished Crowley when he did good deeds aka not his fucking job but the opposite.

'I know you care about him, he's at risk if you don't help me find him.'

The Metatron on the other hand makes it clear that HE specifically knows about him and Crowley, and Aziraphale did not know who exactly was privy to that information and if it reached the Metatron. Not just that, he emphasizes that he has been doing research on them, he can dig up whatever dirt he likes and then kill them both.

No one would be able to stop him.

This next part is going to be interesting because it is a parallel that Aziraphale doesn't and currently wouldn't be able to see, while Crowley does see it very, very clearly.

When the Metatron tells Aziraphale he can take Crowley with him to heaven and make him an angel again, that is good news to him! It is PERFECT! It would solve out of his problems, and who wouldn't want to be an angel, on the side of good?

Everything the Metatron did up to this point, from 'saving' them from punishment at the hand of the Archangels, over getting him coffee, to giving twisted praise, has had one primary objective: Get Aziraphale to trust him.

It worked. Consequently, Aziraphale does not question what he tells him now, and believes that he truly could take Crowley with him and make him an angel again. He has no concept of what falling actually means, and what it meant for Crowley in particular, so he cannot discern the threat within it.

Yet when he presents it to Crowley, who is horrified and rightfully so, we are once again shown that no, Aziraphale does not understand. Crowley does, though. That angel he was no longer exists, he cannot go back to it because they're gone, and he would not want to either. Everything they have built on earth their life, their existence, would mean absolutely nothing and cease to exist.

Do you see the threat yet?

Here is what Beelzebub tells him, and what we are told over and over and over again throughout the season.

Erased from the book of life, gone from existence, everything they were, had, owned, lived—gone.

Erased from the book of life vs. turned back into an angel that doesn't exist anymore, that CAN'T exist again.

Put the threat and the 'offer' next to each other, and Crowley sees the same fate in both: His existence will be destroyed. Aziraphale, like I said above, doesn't. The book of life is a threat, but turning him into an angel is a blessing.

Right now, it doesn't matter whether the book of life really exists or if a demon can be turned back into an angel. What matters is that they both BELIEVE those things are real and possible, because that is what they act on, belief.

Beelzebub sends him away with bad news, the Metatron pushes Aziraphale to tell Crowley good news. Same offer, same possible outcomes (either they get to live together or one of them/both get destroyed), but entirely different responses.

Crowley says no. Aziraphale says yes.

Aziraphale thinks Crowley should have said yes.

Crowley thinks Aziraphale should have said no.

So. We know what happens next and personally, combing through all of this in detail only made it hurt worse!! If it did the same for you—you're welcome, I love my job.

#alex talks good omens #good omens meta #good omens #crowley #aziraphale #good omens season 2 #go2 #aziracrow #crowley x aziraphale #ineffable husbands #ineffable wives #ineffable spouses #ineffable divorce #the final fifteen #alex's unhinged meta corner

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