#via her ordinators

[scorchedcandy]

How many times have you seen almost the face of someone you loved most

and deemed it worthy only of destruction for the crime of being almost

[rockingbytheseaside]

✦ When someone tries to imitate you or take your place 

Pierro, Capitano, Dottore, Pantalone 

(tw: general mentions of violence and intimacy, swf. Old ask suggested by the lovely @pandaquick, better late than never)

Your position in the Fatui is a much more personal and delicate matter. You are not just some high-rank advisor or soldier idling within the Zapolyarny Palace, nor can you be defined as another Fatuus. You are someone of a different echelon - a Harbinger’s beloved, safeguarded with the utmost honor conferred by Her Majesty the Tsaritsa. It is no secret your significant other would utilize a whole army to protect you, but what happens when someone, in their foolishness, forgets that?

✧ Pierro was the first to notice that someone tried to imitate you. An individual of high status endeavored to emulate your work and areas of expertise. Subsequently, this individual began to adopt aspects of your appearance, from hairstyle to clothing. However, the breaking point occurred when this foolish person attempted to purchase an identical jewelry brooch to the one you frequently wore. It was a similar piece, one gifted to you by Pierro.

Except that imitator missed one important clue - Pierro orders you custom-made silver adorned with deep-cut sapphires that would put the Tsaritsa’s crown into shame. A one of a kind piece.

This cheap attempt to imitate you and usurp your spot was what forced The Jester to abandon his silent observation. His gaze has long caught the envious glances directed towards you whenever you accompanied him on meetings, whenever he linked his arm with yours, whenever he generously kneeled beside you to put his coat over your shoulder and keep you warm from Snezhnaya’s cold - the same individual, always seething with resentment. Thus, it was time for the Director to silently act. 

He kept tabs on this person via a network of spies, gathering intel on their behavior and intentions. And with the most skilled spies raised from the House of the Hearth, it didn't take long to have a whole pile of evidence right on his desk. And with the simple snap of his fingers, he effortlessly orchestrated the apprehension and subsequent banishment of the culprit, sparing no unnecessary words. Hearsay will not be tolerated in the Fatui, but to see some lowly scum tarnish your reputation by cheap mimicry then it’ll be his responsibility to weed out. 

“Pierro, dearest, What's wrong? You seem so deep in thought.” - Your gentle murmur broke The Jester's train of thought. As he lay in bed, your head resting on his chest and his arm draped over you, he reminded himself that he was in the comfort of your love. He doesn't have to mull over the bloodied ordinances when he feels the warmth of your skin underneath the covers.

“Apologize, my divine. It seems my mind was drifting to troubling thoughts. But it no longer matters when you're here.” - Thus, he gently planted a kiss on your forehead and tucked the covers around your body which harbored marks of his devotion earlier that night.

✧ Il Capitano clutched the hilt of his sword in resolution. Something was wrong and he could see it. The Harbinger was in the middle of his morning spar with you, a regular training session where you and the Captain warm up as a routine. He stood in a defensive stance, his movements fluid yet measured as his sword received blow after blow from your weapon. You, on the other hand, moved like a silent tempest, your strikes precise yet frustratingly urgent.

It was unlike you to be so unsteady, noted Capitano to himself, especially when fighting. Despite the unspoken patience, an undercurrent of concealed despondency and anger laced your body language. 

“Alright, my dear, I can feel your unease. What troubles your heart?” 

You shook your head, panting as you almost faltered. You insisted on continuing the training session, but it was clear your brave facade was almost crumbling. 

“It would be foolish to continue. And I care about your well-being. Please, confide in me, my beloved.”

You tried, you really did. But before you know it, your lips pursed into a thin line and a flood of tears escaped the moment you shakily lowered your weapon. Now the Captain was on full alert, rushing towards you and gently supporting you before you could hide your tearful face in shame. With an arm around your trembling form and much persuasion - you relented and shared the source of your frustration. A newly enlisted soldier had undergone thorough training under the tutelage of Il Capitano, and their impressive advancement was unmistakably evident in their unwavering dedication. However, this individual began to devote more time to the Captain, delving into military intelligence and climbing the ranks. You genuinely felt joy for the new recruit, truly. Yet in timid humiliation, you had to confess you felt obsolete as if your power alone wasn’t enough for a harbinger of his caliber and ranks.

“Ah, my dear, you are far from weak. My time with the trainees is merely a duty, a part of my job as the 1st Harbinger. But when it comes to you, my dear, your might and wisdom are incomparable. You don’t deserve my ranks, you deserve my life laid before you.”

But whatever gentle words of affection were coming out of the Captain, your next words of truth made him halt at once. “... At least, that’s what the recruit told me when we spoke. That I'm weak.” 

“...What did you say?” 

The gentle armored hand on your shoulder now tightened in restrained anger, fury flaring within his chest. Capitano now understood: your tears, your sudden insecurity, your doubt, your silence… It wasn’t coincidental. This recruit who was so conveniently rising in the ranks made sure to aim not just for the Harbinger. Specifically, you; to sow self-doubt onto you and hinder your precious relationship. Someone was deliberately bullying you.

You looked up at Capitano’s dreadful silence, asking him what was wrong.

“It… seems, my dear, someone has crossed an unforgivable line. One that would cost them their life dearly. And I am to blame for not noticing when harm and doubt came your way. I must amend this transgression for your forgiveness.”

You blinked in response, not having time to comprehend the severity of his words; It’s hard to respond when your beloved suddenly kneels and bows like a knight on duty. In the end, Capitano ushered you to take a day off and let your mind rest easy.

The next day, Capitano returned home early but was eerily silent once more. He stayed with you the whole day, like a hawk overlooking his nest, his arms crossed but his touch gentle. Although he claimed nothing was wrong, you received news that certain recruits were gone, and any upcoming soldiers that would come into his care would receive even stricter training from now on. That day, you wondered why some Fatui soldiers feared talking to you. Not to mention the armor around Capitano’s knuckles seemed faintly red-tinted.

The Fatui organization was a constant battle of powers and ranks. But to climb the ladder and meddle with the life of The Captain was a personal offense, one that would result in quick and unapologetic bloodshed. Nevertheless, he made sure to remind his soldiers about that. 

✧ When one of the folks working under Il Dottore as a lab analyst approached you, you didn’t expect them to call you names so suddenly. You stood there, confused and apprehensive at the sudden barrage of insults from the stranger. But they explained:

“You don’t do anything when helping during research, you know! I don’t even know how The 2nd tolerates you when you’re this useless. I’ll tell you what, quit your special-treatment act, and don’t come back to the lab. The Doctor is better off with someone of his level of intellect.”

You didn’t fight or defend yourself, you didn’t even insult the assistant. Instead, you smiled simply  - “Very well, I won’t. Good luck.”

That day, you turned and left. The frustrated lab analyst was left in confusion but thought they succeeded in eliminating the only obstacle left to get closer to the elusive yet powerful Harbinger. After all, what the hell do you even do at his lab? You exchange a few words with Dottore, maybe sporadically point at what to do, and remain seated in the back, resting as if you were the Tsaritsa herself. The audacity. How come Il Dottore never kicked you out?

Well, it didn't take long for this person to find out.

The next day, naturally, Dottore couldn’t find you when he proceeded with work. You were neither at his study, nor at the lab, nor at your favorite corner of the library. It was barely noon, and receiving your warm greetings was his routine. And the Doctor always follows the agenda.

“Where are they?” 

His question was brief but pointed, and his subordinates knew exactly who he was referring to. They could sense the tension in his voice. The only individual privy to the reason for your absence smirked smugly and responded.

“Hmph. It seems they decided not to come, Lord Harbinger Dottore.”

That was their first mistake because The Doctor caught on to the haughty smirk coming from his new analyst.

“And you know so certainly how?” - he quickly gestured to a nearby Fatui servant with a flick of his wrist. “Send in servants to check in on my behalf. I wasn’t informed. If my darling is feeling tired or unwell, bring their preferred refreshment immediately, and ensure it is warm.”

However, this displeased the new lab assistant, as even while you were away, Dottore was still dotting on you as if it was his second nature to do so while he was busy with work. Thus, they cleared their throat and spoke up:

“They… barely accomplished anything in your presence, doctor. So I advised them to leave, to which they agreed. Pretty straightforward, s-sir.” 

“Oh? Did you, now” - A burning rage, like never before, flared up within Il Dottore. With clenched teeth and a rigid jaw, his voice oozed with venom. But any seasoned lackey working under Dottore knew that this was the calm before the storm. Because soon, an echo of shattering vials and slammed objects would ring out from the laboratory. And in your absence, nothing would prevent the doctor from showing a bit of despotism. 

Much later that evening, after everything was set and done, the servants informed him of your whereabouts. Il Dottore briskly made his way through the Zapolyarny Palace to find you. Spotting you tucked away in a secluded nook of the palace, he hastened over, anxious to ensure your well-being, fearing you might’ve withdrawn due to the influence of some blabbering lowlife. 

“Dear! There you are… No one has the right to speak to you like that ever. Are you alright? My dearest, why did you not tell me immediately?! I would’ve-”

Dottore’s frustrated rambles come to a halt when you place a finger on his lips to shush him. You didn’t look despaired, in fact, you looked calm - “Zandik? Did you have another tantrum in your lab while I was absent?”

The doctor gulped, remembering his place. Calming his senses, he placed his hands on your waist and ushered you closer to his arms.

“... Perhaps. But I had to. How could I be certain that no one had harmed you? Why did you comply with that impudent fool? You should’ve gone to me first.”

“Well, it was unpleasant to hear the insults, sure. But…" - you glanced apologetically and a knowing smile returned to your lips. "I knew you'd find out and deal with the issue very quickly." 

✧ You and Pantalone were an odd couple. You didn't hail from a rich background, nor were you well-versed in the art of business and finance. You were more proficient in adventuring, your travels taking you to all sorts of journeys and commissions, a polar opposite from your beloved Pantalone. This led to raised eyebrows among the aristocrats of Snezhnaya. How can the richest man of Teyvat, who lives and works in prestige, be associated with such a simple person as you? For some, this gave the impression that they had a better chance of winning him over.

Thus, once upon a night, Pantalone was invited to a luxurious soirée. Here he was, clad in his finest suit, silver rings complementing his equally expensive optics. But to the Regrator, the jewelry adorning him was the least of his concerns - because you were the most precious gem in this gala. You accompanied him, although reluctantly, feeling out of place amidst the grand assembly of extravagant guests and the languid orchestra.

“Pantalone, do we have to…? I know you said this is not a business party, but there are so many guests already lining up to talk to you.” 

“Oh do not fret, my sweet. Evening galas like these are where the real negotiation and connections entail. But I know the details bore you, so I promise we won't stick here for too long. Besides, I get to introduce you as my one and only!”

That's exactly what you were afraid of. As a company of some esteemed noble ladies adorning elegant gowns, you had difficulties matching Pantalone’s polite smile. Overwhelmed by the scrutinizing gazes of some guests, you politely excused yourself to the bathroom. Pantalone was concerned, thinking of following you, but that was exactly what the guests wanted. 

You spent a long while by the hallway alone, trying to stabilize your breathing. The muttering of guests enjoying drinks and strolling was faint, but you could hear some people nearby:

“How can the 9th be with someone like them…? Surely it’s a joke.”

“A charming, rich man like him, and he can have anyone he desires. Yet he wastes his time on a simpleton?”

“Someone was definitely in it for the Mora, maybe he hasn’t seen real class. Quick, let’s go talk to him while he is alone.”

You stood with your back to a wall, and for the first time, uncertainty crept in. With fists clenched by your side, you reprimanded yourself that you are not alone. You came here with your significant other - and he, above all else, knows that gossip has no place in your shared private life. Hence, gathering up your courage, you raise your head high and strode back into the gala.

Pantalone, unfortunately yet expectedly, was surrounded by the same foul-mouthed nobles who wished to impress him. They prattled on about his financial success, while ladies fanned their folding fans and stood too close for his comfort. While they humored him, The Regrator cast hurried glances around the gala in search of you. Where are you?

“Lord Harbinger, may we offer you more champagne? I am sure this expensive bottle is up to your taste.”

The 9th attempted to hide his frown at the woman's tone, his stomach unwilling to ingest any drink some excessively elaborate name. “No thank you, I’d rather decline. I am waiting for my dear. I promised her a dance later this evening.”

“Oh, please sir, I insist. The night is young and there is plenty more for-” 

Before the woman could continue, your voice cut through the air; calm, yet unmistakably firm. “He said no. Simple enough to understand.”  

A hush fell over the gathered guests, the weight of your words settling like a sudden gust. Only Pantalone beamed with a genuine smile. “Ah, dear! There you are,”. The Harbinger was about to step back towards you, when the same lady suddenly blocked his path, her back facing him while her tone edged with defiance.

“I beg your pardon, but I’m afraid the question is directed towards Lord Harbinger Pantalone. I am sure you wouldn't know the pleasure of tasting a 500,000 Mora champagne from Fontaine.”

You recognized the snark in her tone directed towards you, and you couldn’t deny the anxiety twisting in your gut as eyes narrowed in your direction. However, with a shake of your head, you reminded yourself who you truly are and simply said: “Sheesh, lady, you spend that much on a drink that tastes worse than sparkling water? To each their own, I presume”

Her smile vanished. The guests stared in stunned silence, but it was Pantalone’s genuine laughter that pierced the tension. The sound was rich and real—because only he knew how adept you were at humbling an overconfident aristocrat with a dose of blunt truth. That’s how Pantalone managed to push through the crowd and circle his arm back around your waist, leaving the astonished onlookers behind.

“Ah dear, you’re a savior. I apologize I dragged us into this unpleasant company…” - he confined to you apologetically as you two walked away. “You always knew how to be sincere in your honest way.”

“It’s not like I meant to pick up a fight…" - you sighed. "I simply couldn't bear the humiliation, Pantalone. I'm aware that some people give me strange looks when I'm with you. They regard me as if I'm some peasant standing next to a powerful Fatui harbinger. That I'm nothing. That's why I couldn’t just hide, I had to step up to defend myself.”

“Oh, darling… My sweet, precious darling.” - The two of you left the manor that hosted the soiree, the chill night breeze muting the faint sound of guests and replacing it with a symphony of cricket noise from the garden nearby. Pantalone's fingers intertwined with yours.

"You are not just 'nothing' - you're my everything. You did not come from riches, and neither did I. You of all people know that. Would I really hold respect for some rich fool who didn't know an ounce of hardship when Mora was all they had since birth? No, dear, I wouldn't."

With a tender hand, he rested his palm on your waist, gently guiding you along the cobblestone path as if leading you into a slow waltz by garden roses in the night.

"Besides, you should never be ashamed to seek out my help. Although I must admit... Your tone earlier - oh my. Use it on me more often, darling. I wouldn't mind." 

[drabblesandimagines]

Dove

Leon Kennedy x fem reader Thinking of making this a little series, will be a fluff, bit of a slow burn, bodyguard trope?

You aren’t sure how you’d got through the last few hours.  Everything’s a blur as you try to think back of the horror that had occurred, now you’re now sat in an unfamiliar chair in an unfamiliar office. Your right arm is in a sling, shoulder throbbing somewhat from a reset dislocation, broken fingers splintered together on the same arm, medical tape holding a wound closed on your temple, disinfectant swiped across the numerous scrapes, your body aching with developing bruises on your legs, poking out from under your dress, from the fall down the stairs – the fall that apparently ended up saving your life from the unearthly creature that had rampaged through your workplace and tore your co-workers apart.

After being treated by a DSO medic, you’d been escorted by a tall, armed to the gills, annoyingly silent man. He’d confiscated your phone, despite the fact the screen was smashed and wouldn’t turn on, and taken you across the city to the main HQ, ushered up a side entrance into the room you now sat, told you to wait, and left you alone for what felt like hours.

The door eventually opens and a smartly dressed, pretty woman, hair pinned up in a bun and wearing glasses enters, immediately heading to the other side of the desk and taking what you assumed was her seat. A handsome man accompanied her, shaggy brown hair, dressed in cargo pants, fingerless gloves, knife strapped to his thigh, finished off with a leather jacket, a holster poking out from underneath. He gives you a sympathetic once over as he sits down besides you, careful not to brush your knee with his own as he does. Considerate.

“Were you given adequate pain medication?” The lady asks abruptly, beginning to type on her keyboard.

You stare at her a moment – she’s all business. “Er… Yeah. Thanks.” Though you’re sure the two of them have noticed the wince as you shuffled in your seat. The medic had offered you stronger stuff but you’d declined, wanting to keep your wits about you. “Sorry, what’s happening now?”

“I’m Ingrid Hunnigan, this is Agent Kennedy.” She nods to the man opposite her.

“Name’s Leon.” The man besides you offers his hand and you notice he’s adapted for your incapacitated arm, in what will surely result in a very awkward handshake but the gesture is nice. You take it, hoping the tremor in your grip isn’t so painfully obvious. “Hi. Erm, I’m-”

“Dove.” Hunnigan cuts you off. “I am aware of your identity, but we will be referring to you as Dove.”

“It’s a codename.” Leon explains, a little less business. “For your safety.”

Hunnigan pauses in her typing, hitting backspace slowly as she replies. “Agent Kennedy will be your protection detail until we get this mess squared up.”

Your breath catches in your throat at her choice of word, a sick feeling twisting in your stomach. “Mess? It was a massacre in there-”

“I know. We know.” The agent besides you stresses. “I’m sorry you had to see all that.”

“Am I the only one who…?” You don’t know why you ask.

“I’m afraid so.” Hunnigan replies, a little softer in tone. “We’re going to send you to a safe house. Agent Kennedy will stay with you.”

“O-okay.” You nod, not taking it all in. “You… You think they’d send whatever that thing was after me?”

“That’s what we need time to establish.” Hunnigan replies. “From the CCTV, after the attack, there was a breach on the database. We need to establish how much data they managed to extract, if any. Agent Kennedy will keep you updated as much as he can when he receives any intel.” She turns more to him then, cutting you out of the conversation. “I’ll send the co-ordinates of the safe house when you’re out of the city. They’re loading up an SUV with supplies for at least a week. If it goes on longer, we’ll arrange a supply drop via another location.”

“That long?” You feel like you’re interrupting.

“Worse case scenario, Dove.” Leon offers you a smile. “I’m sure we’ll have you back home in no time. Did they send you away with any meds?”

“The medic sent in a report – with a treatment plan. It’s in the information pack, prescribed medicine is in with the supplies. Again, enough for a week.” Hunnigan replies. “I’ve arranged clothes too – medic guessed your size for me. We’ll be keeping your phone for now.”

“Why?”

“We can’t allow you to contact anyone – for your safety and theirs.”

Your heart skips a beat at that comment. “Wait… You think I might be behind this, don’t you?”

Hunnigan purses her lips. “It is an avenue we need to explore. There are questions as to why you alone survived. We will be dispatching a team to your residence once the two of you are out of the city to help in our investigation.”

“Again, that’s just protocol.” Leon tries to reassure, but your mind is whirling. “No-one is accusing you of anything, Dove.”

“I… I’ve worked here for years, I passed all the clearance checks. I wouldn’t, I didn’t…”

“As Agent Kennedy said, it’s just protocol. If you have nothing to hide, there is nothing to fear.” Hunnigan resumes tapping away at the keyboard as she talks, pausing as the computer emits a ping. “SUV’s ready. I suggest you two go.”

Leon gets to his feet, once more offering his hand to help you to yours. He smiles, sympathetically, as he takes in your appearance – your face has lost what little colour it had.

“Time to go, Dove. It’ll be all right.”

You want to say no, you feel like you need to stay to plead your innocence, but you catch sight of the gun holstered by his side and the flame of defiance is extinguished. You take his hand, allowing him to pull you to your feet. He places his hand on the small of your back to guide you back through the door and you can’t work out if it should feel like comfort or a threat.

--

You felt numb as Leon had escorted you to a large SUV with blacked out windows in an empty carpark. He’d opened the door for you, helped you climb in before hesitating.

“Need a hand with your seatbelt?”

You stare at him for a moment too long.

“Because of your arm, I mean.”

“Oh. Please.”

He leans over you, grabbing the seatbelt and clicking it into place.

“Right. Comfy?”

“Yeah.” You swallow. “Thanks.”

He nods, closes the door behind him – softly, you note, rather than a slam and it’s then you realise that you also can’t see out the windows. He hops up into the front, buckles his own seatbelt and starts the engine, swinging the SUV out of the parking space with ease. You can’t really see anything from where you’re sat, bar the back of his head and it must be deliberate.

“Hopefully it’s not too long of a drive.” He comments. “Had one that was a twelve hours’ away once and we are not allowed to stop for bathroom breaks.”

“Are you allowed to tell me how far away it is when you know?”

“Don’t see why not. Hunnigan will ping it through once we’re clear enough.”

It’s hard to tell how much time has passed when, eventually, the promised ping echoes around the car. You can hear him tap his fingers against something and he hums to himself.

“We’re in luck – about two hours away, Dove. Want some music on? Don’t have any CDs but got the radio.”

Maybe the music will help drown out how loud your heart is thudding in your ears. ”Yeah, sure.”

He fiddles with the dial – sound crackling around the car before it settles on some acoustic tune you don’t recognize. Must be some easy listening station.

“You can nap, if you like.”

“Maybe.” Though you’re not sure how you’ll ever sleep again after today.

The rest of the drive passes in silence, apart from the sound of the radio. You close your eyes a few times, leaning your head back against the seat but the creature seems burned into your retinas, haunting your vision.

“This is us.” Leon breaks the silence as you feel the car turn and he reduces the speed. He switches off the car and unclicks his seatbelt, turning back to face you. “Wait there just a moment, okay?”

“Yeah.”

 He smiles, opens his door and hops out, again closing the door softly behind him. What must be a few minutes later, your door opens and he once again offers his hand.

“Ready?

You unclip your seatbelt with your good hand before accepting his outstretched one, helping you step down from the SUV. You’re in a garage now of some sort – spacious enough to fit the car and what looks to be a chest freezer, washer and tumble dryer - the whole room illuminated by an orange bulb.

“So, we said safe house – seems more like a safe bungalow to me. I’ll give you the tour.” He gestures forward towards an open door and you walk forward, once again his hand falling to the small of your back. It leads through to a modest sized kitchen – usual white appliances and opens out into a living room with two couches, a coffee table and an entertainment unit with a television. There are two more doors along the wall, but what really strikes you is how small the windows all are, covered in thick panes of glass.

Bulletproof, you wonder.

“Bathroom’s this one,” he opens the door in demonstration, revealing a typical bathroom, before moving along. “And the bedroom.” It has a double bed, white linen sheets, a wardrobe and dresser. “Your bedroom,” he corrects. “I’ll be on the couch.”

“Oh. Is that comfortable?”

He smiles at your concern. “I’m pretty good at sleeping anywhere, but it looks comfortable enough. Speaking of, it’s pretty late so I think we should call it a night.” He ducks into the bathroom, pulling out a washbag from under the sink and empties the contents on the counter. “Standard toiletries kit to start us off. I’m gonna start bringing in the supplies. Sound good?”

You nod and he heads back towards the garage. You kick off your shoes before you step into the bathroom and close the door, twisting the lock closed. You use the facilities with some difficulty, your first visit since being an arm down, though thankful to be in a dress so as not to battle with trousers. After what some might call a best attempt of washing your hand, you pick up the toothbrush and immediately put it back down in annoyance as you realise you’ll need to deal with the toothpaste first. Thankful for the flip cap, the tube slips from your grip as you squeeze, shooting across the counter and knocking a glass off the counter, sending it smashing to the floor.

“Fu-” The word doesn’t even make it out of your mouth when the door is broken open, slammed against the wall and Leon is stood there, gun raised as you scream.

He scans the room with his eyes, concedes it’s clear and lowers his gun. “What happened? You okay?”

“I… I d-dropped the t-t-toothpaste and smashed the g-glass and…” Your breath catches in your throat again, tears burning in your eyes.

“Hey,” he holsters the gun on his thigh. “Hey, it’s okay, you’re okay. Sorry for scaring you. I thought there was a window in here.”

He looks down at the broken glass that’s exploded over the floor and your sock-clad feet. “Sit down, all right? I’ll clear this up.”

“No, I s-should-”

“I can do it. Just sit, please. I’ll go grab a dustpan – they have one. Not my first safe house.” He soothes, heading off into the kitchen cupboards in search of it.

You sit down on the closed toilet seat lid and wonder bitterly if he’s at more safe houses than his own home. You take the moment to try and settle your breathing, your heart still pounding.

Leon appears at the door once more, grinning as he holds the dustpan and brush aloft in triumph. “Found it.” He crouches down, beginning to sweep up the glass. You watch in silence as he tackles the floor methodically, making sure to brush along each square of bathroom tile until he seems satisfied with his work.

“There. All done.” He places it to the side and grabs the troublesome toothpaste tube, before standing up to his full height. “So, this was the culprit, huh?”

You nod. “I don’t know what happened - the only difference was the toothbrush being on the counter, so I should be able to do it, just-”

He picks up the toothbrush and squeezes a blob of toothpaste on it. “On the house.” Leon jokes, offering it back to you. You stand up and accept it, hesitantly.

“I kinda feel pathetic.” You admit.

“Dove…” You’re getting a little used to the name now. It sounds nice off his tongue – soft and sweet. “You’ve had a shitty day, give yourself a break.”

“No, I mean, it just feels like you’re my servant or something – sweeping up, squeezing out my toothpaste...”

“To protect and serve’s the motto.” He smiles at your confused look. “I was a cop before I was an agent.”

“And this is the stuff you did as a cop?”

“Yes, alongside the helping old ladies with their groceries, helping ducks cross the street…” He teases, before nodding at the toothbrush in your hand. “I’ll leave you to it.”

After brushing your teeth without further incident and taking a few more moments to compose yourself, you exit the bathroom. Leon’s stood at the kitchen counter, paper bag in hand, looking at pill packets. There’s a couple of duffel bags near the garage door, one unzipped.

“Medical notes say it’s painkiller time, I’m afraid.” He grabs a glass from the cupboard, fills it up with water from the tap and places it down besides two white pills. “They’ve given you some sleeping tablets as well, but that’s up to you.”

“Do they stop you dreaming?”

Leon grimaces at your question. “From personal experience, yeah. No dreams.”

You hold out your hand. “Then I’ll take them.”

He nods, shaking another two pills out of a bottle and into his hand, picking up the other two and drops them in your hand. You open your mouth and throw them in, before accepting the glass of water, swallowing it all down.

“So, er, this is gonna be a little bit awkward, but I don’t know what you prefer to sleep in, obviously, but I’m assuming not that.”

“Oh. Yeah, no.”

“So, I pulled out a couple of things.” He nods towards the bedroom, where you can see some items of clothing laying out on the bed. He’s turned the bedside lamp on, the room softly illuminated in a white glow.

“You really are a safe house pro.”

“Ha, yeah.” He grins, rubbing the back of his head. “I guess my question is, do you need a hand with changing? 100% respectful offer, obviously.”

You nod. “Please.”

“Okay. After you.”

You walk into the bedroom, Leon keeping his distance this time. There’s an oversized t-shirt in the pile, looks like it will reach your knees. You pick it up with your good hand, clutching it close to your chest and turn to face him.

“Can you help with the sling?”

“Yep.” He nods – professional, unstrapping it with ease and removing it gently. “Afraid medic says you need to sleep with the sling for a week.”

“Mm.” You nod, hanging your arm down loose before turning around. “I guess if you could unzip and I’ll…”

“Got it.” He tugs down the zipper of your dress slowly – if it was some other encounter you’d say he was being a tease. He stops as he reaches the small of your back, just above your underwear. “What can I do now?”

Your breath hitches in your throat, but there’s no getting around it now. “Any good at undoing a bra? Professionally.”

“Professionally, yep.” You feel gentle fingers deftly unclasp it with ease.

“I think I’ve got it from now until the sling needs back on, so-”

“Say no more. Just call when you’re ready.”

The door closes behind you and you exhale, trying to compose yourself. It’s more months since a man had helped you out of a dress and this, after everything today and the situation you’re in, unsure if he sees you as victim or villain, shouldn’t be making you feel flustered.

Gingerly, you slip one arm out of the dress, followed by the other, wincing as you do so and allowing it to pool down at your feet. Next comes your bra, and then you gently pull the t-shirt over your head, again flinching as your shoulder smarts.

Decent, or decent enough, you call out. “Leon? I’m ready.”

“Coming in.” He announces, pausing a moment before opening the door and immediately moves to pick up the sling from where he placed it on the bed. “I’ll be as gentle as I can.”

With practiced hands, he positions your arm into the sling, adjusting it carefully and fastening it in place once more. “There. Feel okay?”

“Yeah.” You look him in the eyes then – beautiful, blue eyes, before fighting back a yawn. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He smiles. “That will be the sleeping pills kicking in. I forgot to mention they’re real heavy duty.”

“Mm.” You sit down on the bed then, a little too heavily, before picking up your discarded dress on the floor. “Could you bin this?”

“Of course.” He takes it from you, no question. “Anything else I can do?”

“No. Thank you.”

“You don’t need to keep thanking me, Dove. It’s all right – I told you, part of the job.”

“Still, thank you.” You mumble, head feeling heavy.

“Here,” he pulls back the covers as you scooch yourself back and lean your head back on the pillow, tucking the duvet in over you. “Arm still okay?”

You nod, looking up at him with bleary eyes.

“I swear what happened wasn’t anything to do with me. I swear.”

“Shh,” Leon hushes. “I know.” He feels it in his gut, felt it since the moment he lay eyes on you in Hunnigan’s office. “Maybe tomorrow we’ll hear some updates. But, for now, just sleep. Okay, Dove?”

“Sleep, okay…” You mumble, closing your eyes.

Leon hovers a moment, noting the change in your breathing as the sleeping pills pull you under. He turns off the bedside lamp and leaves the bedroom, quietly, your dress clutched in his hand. He places it in the kitchen bin – there’s an incinerator round the back to erase all trace of their visit, but he’ll do that in the morning.

He makes his way over to the sofa and lies down, not even bothering to remove his boots.

He won’t be sleeping tonight.

-- Do let me know if you'd be interested in a part two! x EDIT: Part two!

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Commissions/Ko-Fi

[taylorswiftstyle]

The Eras Tour | 1989 section | Version 7

Roberto Cavalli custom Christian Louboutin custom

One of the signature elements of the Eras Tour costuming has been balancing visually referencing eras past, but refreshing them for the modern day. Her co-ordinating tops and skirts worn for the 1989 section are a great example. The previous quad of beaded ensembles (pink, gree[eeeee]n, orange, and blue) all featured colours and coordination that embodied the polish and shine of the original 1989 era but in a new, fitted skirt silhouette.

With the European leg of the tour, Taylor introduced a new series of 1989 costumes by Fausto Puglisi for Roberto Cavalli that are a shift from the original design concept.

From the ombre shading, the skater skirt fit, the incorporation of the Cavalli big cat emblem at the bust, and the two tone element. To me it all falls much closer to the original costuming of the 1989 Tour with bralettes and metallic skater skirts by Jessica Jones. Many of the new outfits debuted in Paris seem to have undergone what I call a 'makeunder' to more closely resemble their original, canonical tour ensembles and not the refreshed 'Taylor Versions’ we’ve seen thus far on the Eras Tour in 2023/24.

While Taylor also has the opportunity to mix/match these coloured sets to create endless new pairing possibilities, based on the sketches my thought is that these two-tone sets were created with the intention of being mismatched, right down to the coordinating Louboutins. And on that note, there is one very famous New Yorker known for mismatching her Louboutins which, if intentional, would be an apt 1989 era reference: the one and only Carrie Bradshaw.

Photo by Kevin Mazur/TAS24 via Getty Images

[murfpersonalblog]

IWTV S2 Ep6 Musings - Loumand's Power Imbalance: RANT (Spoilers)

I'm seeing so many trash takes in the tags and it's driving me nuts.

Armand 👏 Made 👏 His 👏 CHOICE! 👏

The show said it TWICE, and yet I still see a plethora of braindead takes about Armand/Arun being "forced" by "Maitre/pimp!Louis" to do things. 🤦

Like, ISTG we're clearly not watching the same show, y'all.

Since when did Louis being a pimp or asserting "dominance" or other delusions of grandeur get him anywhere or give him anything that wasn't immediately taken away again by people with ACTUAL power? Louis NEVER had any real power to begin with!

Lou couldn't even convince some schmuck art dealer to buy his effing photos! He couldn't even convince his own boyfriend/companion to make a dang baby with him! Come on, y'all--what POWER (control, influence, effectiveness, coercion, sway) has Louis ever actually had!?!?

Sure, Lou owned all those businesses--and every single one got shut down by the government's Ordinances (via the city council the Alderman & Tom Anderson were board members on). Sure, Lou had money & paid all the bills at DPDL Estate, but his mother had the power to badmouth him so bad that his own nieces never wanted to be around him, and Levi took his place as Florence's son--"you're not welcome in this home!" Sure, Lou's a big bad vamp w/ super strength "remember what I did to that door, Grace?," but Grace was the one who told him to "get out!;" "mah sistah buried me aliiiiive~!" Sure, he was "Daddy" Lou, but when Claudia ran away he couldn't do eff all to stop her or make her come back till SHE decided to come back. Sure, Lou said he was "equals in the quiet dark," but Lestat always had the final say--he's even testifying to an entire judge & jury in the court case that's gonna get Claudia killed & Louis LITERALLY buried alive--cuz ARMAND MADE A DEAL WITH SANTIAGO & THE COVEN & LESTAT! Everyone's making moves w/out Lou having a EFFING clue.

Y'all really think Armand just stood there & let Santiago kidnap Lou's family cuz LOUIS turned Armand into his slave!; or cuz LOUIS had some unfair advantage over Armand?!

Episode 7 was given its title for a frikkin REASON, y'all.

Armand claimed he "couldn't prevent it." Armand. The 500 year old vampire so powerful that HE was the only one in the coven who could set vampires on frikkin fire, and was the ONLY one who could freeze entire rooms full of people AND VAMPIRES.

Somehow, Armand's suddenly SO powerless, SO helpless, SO DOMINATED, that couldn't stop those SAME vampires from abducting his beloved companion ("I want you more than anything in the world") and his daughters? PLEASE.

Coven Master Armand CHOPPED OFF NICKI'S HANDS when he got TIRED of dealing with a mentally ill guy whom LESTAT left him with! Sound familiar!? Only this time it's not Louis' HANDS--it's his DAUGHTERS!

ARMAND WANTS THOSE TWO WENCHES GONE GIRL! He sold them down the frikkin river; and in return was able to guarantee that Louis wouldn't be killed right alongside them, merely buried alive so Armand could dig him up later; "eternity in a box."

Armand passively shut the door and stood by as the coven burned Claudia (after Armand had chopped her HEAD off & sewed it on an adult's body)--and only made his move once all the sentences had been meted out; cuz in classic Armand fashion: HE LET IT HAPPEN.

ARMAND WANTED THAT WHOLE COVEN GONE, GIRL! He's done this crap before! WITH LESTAT!

And Armand was busy wheeling & dealing with Lestat, too!

Lest only complied--COMPLICIT--cuz he'd been starved, delirious & hurt; and Armand tricked him into thinking he could/would help. Les threw Claudia under the bus to protect Lou, but was still horrified that she'd been killed, cuz ARMAND could've prevented it--his fledglings shouldn't've been held to the Great Laws in the first place!

This is a MASSIVE game Armand's playing--the whole point of his gaslighting's that he throws the same thing he does back in ppl's faces to throw them off his scent, "to protect me, from YOU, Mr. Molloy...from my shame...my cowardice." He hides behind illusions--not just with the Mind/Spell Gift, but also through the veneer of innocence: a black-winged devil with the innocent face of a cherub.

People are SO blinded by the mean Black man (whom they don't even like ANYWAY) Dom'ing Armand (FOR SHOW, btw!); and equally distracted by their failure to even parse Armand's birthname Arun (I don't see any of y'all saying Amadeo was book!Armand's "slave name," and I DEFINITELY don't see any of y'all saying ANDREI was his slave name, either!); that they've totally missed how Loumand plotted TOGETHER to concede power to Santiago and "give" him the Theatre--thoroughly ignorant of the fact that Santiago was already being called Maitre by the whole effing coven--he'd already won his coup!

You can't give someone something you never had, Louis!

And their plot was for ARMAND'S BENEFIT; so they could get rid of Santiago, destabilize/dismantle the coven so they'd scatter (just like Lestat caused them to do); and so Armand could decide if he wanted to stay Maitre or not--LETTING ARMAND CHOOSE what HE wanted to do with HIS coven and THEIR lives. Lest we forget: vamps don't just LEAVE covens--in the books, after Les ruined the Paris coven, Armand didn't just LET them leave--he set them on FIRE and KILLED THEM; just like Louis would do--as Armand sat back and LET IT HAPPEN.

He knew Lou'd go ballistic; AMC!Armand even TAUGHT Louis the Fire Gift; literally handing Louis the tools with which to destroy his coven for good!

This show constantly emphasizes the POWER Armand held over Louis & Claudia (& Madeleine)'s lives; and his autonomy, agency & authority over them; despite the roleplay Loumand was up to as they SWITCHED positions; cuz Armand FAILED at running the coven.

All Armand wanted was to be with Louis, but Lou kept dragging Claudia (& Lestat) with him. So Armand was tryna get rid of them--he's Sleeping in Claudia's coffin, cuz he wants to take HER spot; "it's BLISS!"--and he overplayed his hand.

Louis couldn't even kill himself in peace without Armand interfering--cuz at the end of the day, it's not up to Louis what he wants or does. Armand PRETENDS to be Louis servant, "Rashid," his subby bottom boy, cuz Armand WANTS to go along with it all--too shameful for his COMPLICIT culpability; and too scared to live alone.

I saw people saying "the victim became the victimizer; cycles of abuse; etc etc," like omfg--how is THIS man Louis' victim!?

I've said it before though: Armand genuinely loves Louis, and has good intentions. But let's not pretend Armand's some innocent bystander to Louis' schemes, ffs!

[djuvlipen]

A 6yo girl died of electrocution in a Romani camp in Italy last month. this is what racialized poverty looks like; children are always among the first victims. may she rest in peace

04 March 2024

The Saturday before she was due to start school, six-year-old Michelle died by electrocution in the Roma camp in Via Carrafiello di Giugliano in Naples. Despite desperate attempts to resuscitate the girl, who had brushed against exposed electrical cables, she was pronounced dead at about three p.m. on the 13 January 2024. 

Allegedly, distressed family members caused a disturbance at the hospital and were accused of attacking health care personnel and police. This ‘chaos’ quickly became the focus of local media attention, and coverage of the tragic death of a child quickly morphed into an issue of public order and security.   

Deputy Francesco Emilio Borrelli of the Alleanza Verdi Sinistra, weighed in by describing the Giugliano camp “populated by violent people whose lifestyle is many times beyond the law” as one of many “outlaw settlements where children are abandoned to degradation”; and declaring his solidarity with the emergency room doctors and the police. 

After a meeting of the committee for public order and safety, the prefect of Naples, Michele Di Bari, set the objectives for the local administration “Clean the camp from waste in the next few weeks and start the transfer of a Roma family of around 40 people, to an asset confiscated from organized crime.” 

The authorities responded with a blitz on the camp coordinated by local police, and supported by Carabinieri, military personnel and employees of the water company. Waste was removed, electrical cables made safe, vehicles seized, and the water supply was disconnected, leaving about 450 Romani people without access to water by 25 January. Behind the expressions of concern about the safety of children, the official stance is – to borrow a phrase from Matteo Salvini – one of “Legalità, ordine e rispetto prima di tutto!” (Legality, order and respect before all).

The reporter from Avvenire tells a different story, of bereaved families, wrongly accused of affray at the hospital, routinely scapegoated and repeatedly evicted. After the seventh eviction they ended up on this long-abandoned industrial site, amongst the rubble and mud, without water or electricity, except for illegal connections – an ‘informal settlement’ in officialese. In reality, a squalid and precarious site, where 200 Romani children subsist in conditions that do nothing to nurture “an atmosphere of happiness” for the “full and harmonious development of his or her personality”, envisaged in the UN Convention on the Rights of the Child.

In a submission to the UN Human Rights Council back in 2014, ERRC research revealed that Romani children raised in camps across Italy were prone to a number of severe and debilitating conditions: they suffered from high levels of anxiety, were more frequently born underweight, and became ill with respiratory disease in greater numbers. They suffered more often from poisoning, burns and accidents at home. There was a greater incidence of “diseases of poverty”, such as tuberculosis, scabies, and lice.

The roots of the crisis can be traced back to official policies in the 1990s which placed Roma in segregated ‘nomad camps’. Things worsened with Berlusconi’s illegal declaration of a State of Emergency to combat the so-called ‘Roma menace’ in 2008. This overtly racist demonisation of Romani people heralded a prolonged period of mass evictions and destruction of camps, harassment, expulsions, mob violence and pogroms against Roma communities. Up to this day, the legacy of this illegal state of exception still afflicts Roma, as successive governments have failed, or simply refused to honour the commitment to ‘get beyond the system of camps.’ 

For its part, the European Commission chose to remain silent in the face of mounting and overwhelming evidence of systemic anti-Roma discrimination, forced evictions and camp segregation. On 6 April 2017, The Financial Times reported that the European Commission had repeatedly blocked publication of a report which recommended sanctions against Italy for mistreatment of its Roma minority, in an attempt to avoid a damaging public row. Seven years later, little has changed in Brussels, and the Commission has consistently kept schtum on this issue.

On 20 May 2019, in response to an emergency case was brought before the court by Associazione 21 luglio and the ERRC, the European Court of Human Rights ordered the Italian Government to provide suitable accommodation for the 73 Romani families who were forcibly evicted from Giugliano the previous week. The court recognised the right to family unity and the need to provide adequate housing to the 450 Roma who had been evicted, and were camped in an area with no shelter, and were forced to sleep inside cars or outdoors, despite the difficult weather conditions, without access to electricity, clean water or toilets. And this is where Michelle and her friends spent the next four years.

Despite the availability of EU funds, the precarious living conditions endured by the Roma remained unresolved. On 12 January 2021, the Campania Regional Council approved the "Abramo" project worth €846,000 for a path of housing, work and social integration of the Roma populations of Giugliano in Campania. As is all too painfully evident, no tangible progress had been made on housing, and as Avvenire noted, in the aftermath of this latest tragedy “now the focus is on the reuse of houses confiscated from the Camorra.” As part of the education path of the Abramo project, “Interventions on school integration have started and yesterday Michelle would have gone to school with the apron and backpack given to her.” Instead, on that first day at school for the cohort of Romani kids, one desk remained empty.

[saintmeghanmarkle]

Lady C and Baroness Bruck by u/Winter-South-7448

Lady C and Baroness Bruck I keep thinking about Lady C saying that there is an absolute bombshell, something huge that is coming out in Spring that is going to bring the Harkles undone. When Markle first started dating Harry there was a relatively small group of people who saw through her and had concerns. A number of social media accounts were aligned with us sinners, including the twitter account of Baroness Bruck@BaronessBruck and she had a strong following.I followed her because she was like-minded and saw Markle for what she was. Then some time ago, the account changed suddendly, overnight. Bruck went from being a sinner to a really nasty, malevolent sugar. It was presumed when this change happened, that the account had been sold. Who would have the motivation to take Bruck out of circulation as a sinner, and replace its content with pro-sussex bile?There is speculation on twitter that it is actually the ILBW who bought the account and who operates it, along with other accounts like Myra (i.e. My real account)@SussexPrincess.The Bruck account contains the most vile vitriol against Catherine. One of the things posted today for example says "But Kate is not dying yet, is she??? with a gif of a clown appearing out of a grave that has just been dug.Meanwhile Theresa Longo Fans@BarkJack on twitter, in my view a trustworthy sinner, has been saying for months that (i) the ILBW is part of a co-ordinated twitter bot campaign against the RF, and (ii) that the RF has been undertaking an in-depth investigation of the social media abuse against the RF with a specific purpose in mind. We know that a lot of that twitter abuse has targetted Catherine, someone for whome the ILBW has almost unhinged jealousy and hatred.Could it be that the bombshell Lady C is talking about, is the RF releasing its investigatory proof that the ILBW has been behind the social media attacks on the RF, and in particular, that the ILBW is behind accounts such as Baroness Bruck? That would completely destroy any remaining reputation of the ILBW, and would provide irrefutable grounds for the RF to remove the Harkle's titles, Harry's place in the LoS, etc.Is this a real possibility, or just wishful thinking?​​​ post link: https://ift.tt/8unbY4D author: Winter-South-7448 submitted: March 25, 2024 at 11:21AM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit disclaimer: all views + opinions expressed by the author of this post, as well as any comments and reblogs, are solely the author's own; they do not necessarily reflect the views of the administrator of this Tumblr blog. For entertainment only.

[naisilla]

The Emperor's New Muse Part .9

Odyssey Kayn x Reader

content: The exchange goes horribly wrong...

A/N: Thank you for supporting this story and thank you to those who motivated me to continue writing.

The Fractal Shear landed on the Royal Military Station, next to the Royal Palace. You were once again being walked through the palace port, passing by thousands of troops. No soldier paid you any attention, remaining stoic and ignoring your situation with one glance at the Ordinal leading your group.

You had to walk through the massive expanse. Lead past various subways of bullet trains that transported the military throughout the planet via an underground train system.

It didn't even feel like you had left the Fractal Shear. With how everything in Demaxia is made of cold, dark metal and sterile lighting, it felt like you were inside an expansion of the ship.

"So where is this exchange happening anyways?" you ask, unable to bear the deafening silence among your group.

It only felt fitting that Kayn continued his usual behavior during the most critical moment of your escape plan. His calm demeanor was unnerving, you were certain that he was just waiting for the right time to pull something cruel on you, to take away your hopes. The closer you got to the edge of the district the more nervous you became.

"We're taking you into the grand courtroom. The Morningstar will land on our military station and the ship will be confiscated until after the exchange. Wouldn't want your friends trying to leave too soon."

Crap Kayn had thought of everything. By having the exchange happen inside the palace, you and your team are in a lot of danger. You'd be trapped in an unfamiliar environment infested with demaxian soldiers overseeing everything. Plus with the Morningstar being so far from reach, it would be almost impossible to pull off a flawless escape.

As you continue to walk down the corridors of the Royal Palace the intensity of your emotions increases. You feel nervous about how your team might pull off this getaway. With how crucial this situation is, the entire scenario could go south.

Sometimes foreshadowing is relatively obvious.

You were brought into the Demaxian Palace and immediately your breath was taken away. The grand size of Demaxia's ships and cities could not prepare you for the Palace itself.

The sheer size and opulence of the Demaxian Palace was breathtaking. You have never seen such extravagant architecture before. The palace was imposing and dwarfed everything you have ever seen before. The grandeur of the rooms and the length of the halls make this entire structure seem more like an entire city, instead of just a place for the royalty to live.

The Demaxian Palace was a dramatic shift from the Military Station and subways leading toward it. Instead of the cold and dark metal scheme that you were so accustomed to, the Palace stood out in its contrasting palette of ivory and silver.

The grand courtroom lived up to its name. There was a balcony floor that overlooked everything similar to that of a theater room. Hundreds of executive chairs with elongated bodies were immaculately tucked into long lines of marble tables. Giant pillars arched above holding up the grand ceiling decorated with beautiful paintings depicting the galaxy.

Kayn and his soldiers waited at the center of the room, standing before the center table and staring at the adjacent entrance.

Eventually, you pick up on marching footsteps approaching, and the grand doors part open. A troop of soldiers enter, along with your friends Yasuo, Jinx, Malphite, and Sona. You immediately notice their lack of weapons. Yasuo was without his sword and Jinx was missing her barrage of weaponry.

It becomes apparent that your odds of survival are even slimmer than anticipated.

The moment your eyes meet, Jinx smiles and begins to wave excitedly "(y/n)! you're still alive!! How was rooming with Kayn?~"

You roll you're eyes, Jinx sure does have a weird way of saying things. Jinx waving her hands and trying to interact like nothing was wrong despite being escorted in was such a Jinx thing to do. It was both nerve racking and comforting to see that she seemed so normal despite being stripped of all her weapons and held by Demaxian soldiers. If there was one thing you knew about her, it was that you could count on her to always be herself no matter the situation that she was in.

"Absolute torture. How have you been?"

"You know, same old running away from Demaxian enforces. Yasuo was so stressed out- HEY!" Jinx protests as a soldier nudges her with his gun demanding her to shut up.

The group of soldiers escorting the Morningstar crew continues to usher everyone further into the courtroom. You stole a glance at Yasuo desperate to see the confidence of having a plan in his eyes. But there was no twinkle of hope or a smug smirk there was only fear.

Without his weapons and surrounded by armed Demaxian Soldiers he looked more vulnerable than you had ever seen him look before. The only thing you could hope for now was that the rest of the crew had some sort of plan because clearly Yasuo did not.

Your gaze desperately flicks over to Sona, the only member of the Morningstar you had faith in. But Sona merely looked directly at Kayn with a solemn look, she unlike the others (excluding Jinx because she's just insane) showed no fear toward the Ordinal.

Despite the circumstances Sona remained quiet and calm.

Kayn was solely focused on the Templar. "At last, Sona. The secrets of the Ora Gate will be mine!"

Yasuo steps infront of Sona, blocking her from Kayn with a stern glare. "Have you fulfilled the terms of our agreement?"

Kayn nods "Yes, the charges against you for your brothers gruesome murder have been dropped."

"And the bounty reward?"

"A sum of two hundred billion credits have been wired over." Kayn brings up a hologram projection from his wrist showing that indeed the money had been transferred.

"And your promises to my crew?."

"Malphite has been recommended and accepted into the Demaxian Academy Of Clinical Medicine." As proof an acceptance letter was put on display. "As for the loose canon, you'll find a shipping container of our weapons has been loaded onto your Morningstar. The hologram projection switches to live security feed from on board the Morningstar showing a team of Demaxian soldiers loading said container into the cargo port.

Even though Kayn had kept his promises so far Yasuo's gaze remained hard. "Now give (y/n) back."

You feel Kayn's hand latch onto your arm in a steel grip.

"The templar first".

It's not like Yasuo had much of a choice, they were surrounded by a few hundred soldiers all armed with plasma guns. The soldiers closest to your friends were nudging Yasuo to step aside so that Sona could freely walk over to where Kayn and you stood.

Sona takes initiative and begins to walk her way over to your side of the courtroom. Her strides were hidden under her dress giving the illusion of her gracefully floating across the floor. The dark visors of every soldier turning to follow her movement.

You realized you were holding your breath when she finally made it over to you. Yasuo's narrow eyes dart between Sona, Kayn, and yourself.

"Now let (y/n) go."

Kayn's grip releases from your arm and his boot makes contact with your back as he kicks you away forcing you to stumble forward. You scramble to your feet and look back at Sona.

You look at her desperately trying to find solace in her expression, for her to assure you this was all part of the plan. There was a plan, right? But Sonas eyes only stared back with the same solemn expression as before.

Your heart sank now that you'd come to the realization that there was no plan. Yasuo was actually going to give Sona up. You could feel tears of frustration welling in your eyes and you glared at Yasuo. How dare he actually let Kayn win, He just doomed the universe for some materialistic rewards.

All eyes were on you as you traded places with Sona, you had barely reached your spot next to Yasuo when Kayn speaks up. His green eye casts down on you. "Kill them."

Instantly all the guns in the courtroom train on you and your friends, the synchronized clicks and hums of hundreds of plasma riffles echoing in the giant room.

Everything happened so quickly, You were in an impossible situation and you had no chance to avoid a bloodbath. Everyone freezes in their tracks, unable to move an inch as you stare in terror at the sheer number of guns pointed right at you. Everyone there is now at the mercy of the Demaxian Soldiers who have no reason to hesitate to pull the trigger. It seems that this is the end of the line for all of you.

With a resounding crescendo, your vision is abruptly blinded by a golden light. Everyone is shaken, the Demaxian soldiers have been briefly knocked down. At the center of it all stood Sona, who wields an orb of aura between her hands.

Using a fluid motion of her arms she sends out another wave of pure ora, the raw energy blasting everyone with the power of an extreme blizzard. From across the room, her eyes connect with yours and a single message is telepathically spoken.

"Run".

Yasuo grabs you by the arm in a desperate grip and everyone takes off towards the massive entrance. Along the way, Jinx swipes the guns of various soldiers still knocked out by the blast. She throws one for you to catch while she continues to sprint, wielding a riffle in each hand, a sinister cackle coming from her.

As you run you feel your body becoming lighter allowing you to speed up. You breathe a sigh of relief as Sona joins your side, her celerity spell boosting everyone towards and out the grand door. The moment everyone is out of the grand courtroom you turn to look at the mess in your wake.

Chairs had been blown to the ground, and many Demaxian soldiers remained limp, only a few were left moaning and twitching. That blast of Ora was powerful enough to incapacitate targets. But to your horror, standing in the center of it all was Kayn.

Unlike the sea of men slumped over, taken out by the ora. Kayn stands tall with his scythe planted firmly on the ground, its center growing large as it draws in the golden essence.

How was this possible? Everyone else got destroyed in the blast, there's no way he survived that. You could only watch on in horror at what Kayn did next.

Getting up from his kneeling position and straightening himself Kayn stood with a proud posture, his arms spread out. The palm of his right hand glows with ora. From the bodies of the fallen rise tendrils of golden essence that get pulled into his outstretched hand. Kayn was absorbing everyone's ora. His green eye sparkles and glows, becoming more golden.

You and your friends find yourself in a large hallway, in the distance is the sound of charging footsteps. It wouldn't be long until more Demaxian soldiers flooded the scene. Yasuo takes the lead, remembering the way that he and his crew were escorted through.

Jinx mounts herself onto Malphite's back holding onto his dorsal plates and begins to shoot up the palace interior, squealing in delight. More soldiers begin to emerge from the palace halls, flooding into view in giant waves.

They just keep coming, more come in to replace the few you can manage to take out. It's like an infestation of roaches emerging from a nest. You are forced to run, there was no time to try and take care of the imperials.

Kayn rushes through the wave chasing you from behind, The mass parts for the Ordinal who shoves everyone aside. His actions are rough and erratic, his teeth are bared in a permanent snarl, and his green eye glints.

With long and powerful strides, Kayn manages to catch up to you. He covered a large distance in an impossible display of speed. It was like a nightmare where no matter how hard you pushed your body to flee the monster was always faster.

In his left hand is Rhaast, glinting with each stride Kayn takes. It's center of Ora warps and shifts like an eyeball staring down its prey. Within the sea of noise, Rhaast's voice cuts through the sounds of yelling and gunfire.

"Rip out their organs Kayn!"

With a mighty leap, Kayn launches himself into the air. He flys above you looking down like a bird of prey. He swings Rhaast upwards preparing to bring down the scythe to slice your entire team down the middle.

"SONA! LOOK OUT!" You scream gesturing to the templar in with a single gesture. She nods understanding you and builds up a core of ora between her hands and lets it out in a radial blast just like earlier.

You expect Kayn to be blown away and knocked down by the force emitted but to your horror, he breaks through. While the rest of the imperials are instantly stunned and fall to the ground, Kayn remains untouched by the blast. And he continues to fall through with his downward strike attack.

There is no time to react, Kayn is hurtling toward you at a flat-out speed. You can't even brace for impact-

A golden shield instantly appears forming over you and your friends, you look up amazed as Kayn is slowed down. He was inches away from killing all of you, yet as he made contact with the ora shield he is effectively blocked. You turn to Sona relieved that she managed to stop Kayn, you were almost certain Kayn has outpowered her.

But Sona wasn't casting the shield, she looked back at you, her eyes wide in confusion. Her hands were not manifesting ora, she was frozen in a defensive stance using her arms to shield her body. Within these split seconds, your mind raced. If Sona wasn't shielding you, then who was?

You look to Kayn whose enraged state has vanished into an expression of shock. He stands next to the force field that protects you his eyes trained on something up and ahead of you. Following his gaze you look towards a grand balcony where a mysterious man stood.

A stoic man stood tall before you, shallow lines carved his face in a mature charm. Tufts of medium length dark hair peeked out from an elegantly decorated barbute helmet. His large frame was mantled with a set of sleek streamlined armor. In his right hand was a grand lance and his left hand was outstretched. He was the source of the ora shield.

It took a moment to notice the Demaxian colors of gold, white, and blue and how ornate the man's armor was that you figured out just who he was.

King Jarvan IV.

By how surprised Kayn seems by the King's presence you deduct he wasn't expecting Jarvan to be here in the palace.

"My King- I thought you were meeting with the High Priestess on High Silvermere." Your deduction was correct.

The King only stares back at the Ordinal sternly. "Why are there space pirates and a templar being chased in my palace?"

You watch as Kayn instantly switches from his enraged state to mirroring the same serious composure as the King.

"My King, this is Captain Yasuo. He's a fugitive murderer resisting his arrest and his crew are also fined with a plethora of crimes."

King Jarvan raises an eyebrow. "Why are they here in my palace? Shouldn't criminals be taken to the prison on Dawnhold?"

Kayn is quick to respond. "These fugitives in question have been evading my locus armada and have been a menace to the empire-"

You continued to watch Kayn talk to King Jarvan, the exchange between King Jarvan IV and Kayn makes you more curious about the relationship between these two individuals. The King seems to hold a position of authority over Kayn, yet Kayn doesn't seem to hold back in speaking his mind to him.

As King Jarvan talks back and forward with Kayn, you and King Jarvan lock eyes with each other. The King's eyes are soft and kind, he doesn't seem like the kind of man who would take pleasure in causing pain or suffering. As they continue to stare at each other, you can't help feeling like he's evaluating you in some way.

You decide to speak up and interrupt the two males. "Captain Yasuo is innocent!"

The conversation was broken by your interjection and now you had the attention of both men. King Jarvan speaks first.

"And who are you?"

You stare up at the King on his balcony with a sense of confidence. "I am (Y/N) of Navori. Your Empire invaded my home world and destroyed both my people and planet with your brutal expansionism. I was forced to live as an immigrant working class. Ever since I was wrongly treated by your loyal Ordinal I've been on the run with the Morningstar crew"

You speak with a fiery passion and the King's expression darkens as you speak. He listens to every word you say and never once does he interrupt you or try to change the subject. You notice that Kayn is staring at you in silence with a look of contempt and hatred. He's trying to hide his feelings but you can tell that he's annoyed at you.

A defeated sigh escapes from Jarvan's lips. "Yes I'm aware that there were a handful of countries that became barren wastelands after out attempts at colonisation went wrong."

Kayn's eyes narrow further into tiny slivers as if he can't believe that you would have the audacity to speak out against the Empire like that in front of the King.

Yet Jarvan's eyes showed remorse for the actions of his empire in the past. The King did not resemble the tyrant you imagined. For a brutal and merciless empire, the ruler seemed mellow and meek.

Perhaps he would understand. Maybe you should try talking to the King to stop Kayn from opening the ora gates.

"Please you majesty, hear us out. My team and I have been dawodhaowhdoawdad

Kayn interjects. "My King, do not believe these space pirates! They are criminals manipulating you with grandiose lies to avoid their sentencing and arrest!"

You snap back. "What kind of King lets his soldiers take over his empire, you've become an absent ruler unaware of the corruption abundant in your empire and how your loyal Ordinal threatens the universe!"

Jarvan is taken aback and turns to Kayn and calmly asks. "Shieda, What is she speaking of?"

You watch as Kayn grounds himself, he must remain equally calm to persuade Jarvan to ignore the Morningstar.

"They are space pirates. They only speak lies. Let me handle them my King". Kayn grips his scythe.

There is a pause for the King to contemplate, he lowers his arm deactivating the shield around you and the others.

Yasuo acts immediately grabbing you by the arm and making a sweeping dash forward, breaking through the soldiers who had gathered before you.

Jinx and Malphite also join in, the loose cannon firing at the guards who chase after you while Malphite pounds his fists into the ground sending out a shockwave that. Sona hesitates, looking at the King desperately before turning to also join the fleeing team assisting their getaway with a boost of her ora.

Kayn stands still staring between the escaping Morningstar crew and the King. An unamused scowl present on his face. "I think my point has been proven".

The Morningstar was quiet. You had managed to escape Kayn and the empire once again but it came at a cost. The ship had been badly damaged in the escape, it now operated at a much slower speed, barely getting away from Demaxia_Alpha. In fact, it should have been impossible to escape like you did. It was almost as if, Kayn had let you go, on purpose... Meanwhile, back at the palace, Kayn had a lot of explaining to do.

"Shieda. I have a lot of questions regarding what just happened". King Jarvan says, his tone low and serious as he paces about the room.

Kayn stands before him, tall and confident, masking the concern about where the King is going with this questioning.

Jarvan continues "Firstly I found it strange that you would arrange a hostage exchange here in the palace, it risks the security of the empire and of course" Jarvan pauses to gesture to the ruined grand courtroom. "Can lead to grand acts of destruction."

Jarvan's blue eyes look over the grand courtroom, while intact there were various sections where the marble erodes as a result of plasma and ora blasts. Most of the furniture had been obliterated and the once-polished floor had a massive ugly crack branching across.

The repairs towards this room alone would cost a grand fortune, let alone compensation for the hundreds of imperial soldiers who were injured or killed. Just thinking about the number of paperwork ahead of Jarvans day was giving the King a migraine.

"I also found these "space pirates" very peculiar. Even a formal bodyguard wanted for murder wouldn't require to be arrested here on Demaxia_Alpha."

Kayn shifts his weight from one foot to the other, his shoulders become loose, and his head hangs to the side as he adopts a more casual stance. By responding to Jarvan's serious demeanor with one of nonchalance Kayn has the potential of lowering the king's guard and lessening the tension.

"My King you know me, as an Ordinal I take my position seriously. What happened earlier was a failed sting operation. I wouldn't endanger the security of the palace if I didn't know what I was doing. I lured those space pirates in with a deal they could not refuse in order to get them somewhere they could not slip away."

"These are just space pirates, not high profile criminals. I fail to understand why they were treated as such." Jarvan was quick to continue his questions, Kayn was not going to change the topic and get off the hook so easily.

Alright, a casual approach was not the quick resolve Kayn was hoping for, time to switch his approach.

"These space pirates are a far greater threat to the empire than you could assume my King. The Captain, as you know. Brutally killed a soldier of mine, his own brother." Of course, Kayn was purposeful to leave out the details that Yone was not his soldier but in fact, a double agent who managed to free Sona from his interrogation cell. And of course, that he was the one who killed Yone. Ripped his body apart into bloody shreds with his newly acquired scythe at the time.

"I understand you must have had a personal vendetta against the Captain for murdering one of your men, but even so, arresting him here in the palace through a hostage exchange was not the right approach. You should've arrested him somewhere else that doesn't put the security of the palace in danger, you could've done so-"

"I've tried that already!" Kayn yells his voice suddenly booming, Jarvan looks at his friend slightly shocked, noticing how the Ordinal's fist clenches in frustration.

"I have been tracking the Morningstar for almost a year, and I have encountered them countless of times. In deep space, on alien planets, and on colonized market planets where they had stopped to restock. Every time they continue to evade me and my locus armada. With how dangerous Yasuo is I had to go to radical measures to ensure the safety of our empire."

Kayn was beginning to lose it, just his luck the King had hit a sore trigger spot of his. He needed to keep it together, and really convince Jarvan of how important it was to have the Morningstar crew taken down, even if he had to lie to him.

"Amongst them was a Templar, a powerful one with an affinity for ora from what I saw. What was she doing in the middle of all of this?"

"She was their hostage, she has been held captive against her will by these space pirates. Another reason as to why they are so dangerous." Kayn was instantly crafting lies to manipulate the King and staging the Morningstar as real threats that needed to be eliminated.

"But why?"

"You saw it for yourself, the Templar is powerful. She has the strongest of abilities to wield ora, what space pirate wouldn't want such power to themselves?"

Jarvan nods seemingly beginning to agree Kayn who was portraying the Morningstar as quite the threat to their empire.

So why was there doubt? Why was it that when Jarvan looked into Kayn's golden eye there was something dark lurking just beyond.

Golden...

Jarvan recalls the way the Templar looked at him so desperately, it was so odd that a hostage would be so willing to help her captors escape. She could've stayed behind and been rescued, but she choose to leave with the Morningstar.

Something wasn't right.

That other woman in their crew also tried warning him about Kayn, something about the universe being in danger...Jarvan sighs.

"Kayn I've noticed some concerning changes. I'm worried for you. You've grown distant and I can tell there is more going on here concerning this "Morningstar".

Kayn began to grow impatient, why couldn't Jarvan just leave this be? He had already forced Kayn to let them get away by staying here to talk, precious time catching up to them was getting wasted. The King has been so content in the past to let him take over to let the Ordinal enforce the law on his behalf, why now was this absent King being persistent?

"The man you follow is weak Kayn, you and I both know that he is only showing interest now because he senses something wrong. He senses your intention. He is catching on to your plan."

Rhaasts voice whispers in Kayns mind, dark and foreboding. A grim reminder to the Ordinal of the situation he is in. Stuck in a position he hates, performing duties for an overcautious king who refuses to have the clarity of mind that he does, the strength that he does. Rhaast was the sign that Kayn needed to pursue his ambitions of leading the empire toward the greatness it deserved, that Kayn deserved.

"I've grown sad, sad that we've become an oppressive and dominating symbol that outliers such as the Templars, Sundicate, and Subjugated alike kick against. I don't like being seen as a monolithic force, I hate being seen as an unyielding authoritarian. Your imperial policy has forced us to become less tolerant in recent years and I've grown to hate it."

"He rejects your strength Kayn. The King is still a bleeding heart full of delusional ideas of progression through peace. He is not like you, he is far weaker. The empire would benefit a ruler who isn't afraid of war, someone ruthless and pragmatic. Someone that is-"

"Me."

Jarvan looks at Kayn who suddenly spoke aloud. "What was that Kayn?"

Kayn merely stood tall and approached Jarvan with slow calculated steps, his boots crunching the rubble of the destroyed room. Then he lowers his scythe and his shoulders slouch, a pained expression appears on his face.

"I realize that we have differing opinions on how the empire should be ruled. My ideals were crude and radical compared to yours."

Jarvan notices how Kayn's body language has suddenly changed, his tone is a much more submissive one. Though his intentions remain hidden behind his words. Jarvan stares at Kayn who continues to look down with his shoulders lowered. He's showing his vulnerability to gain sympathy and trust from the King.

"While I can't say I always agreed with you, I can see how my way has driven the empire into an unstable state between it and its people."

Jarrvan nods, agreeing with Kayn.

"We've gone too far Kayn, we need to change. For the betterment of the Empire".

Jarvan turns away from Kayn and takes a step back. His eyes were no longer full of annoyance and suspicion but now filled with disappointment.

"If only I had taken charge sooner, I could've stopped the descent of our empire. I hope that it isn't too late, we've already laid claim to almost every planet in the universe. I feel like we've gone past the point of return."

Kayn walks over to Jarvan placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"As a Military tactician and as an Ordinal I have seen how war can affect a nation. In our empire's name, I have fought and killed. While we bring a great progressive future to our core worlds it came at the cost of forcefully imposing our empire onto them and spreading across planet systems creating a heavily separated class system between the metropolis capitals and the lower class trapped in endless poverty. It's time we changed that..."

Jarvan nods quietly once again, he's being won over by his friend's charisma that seems to be radiating from him with a newfound compassion and sense of reason. With his back turned to Kayn who stood slightly behind him Jarvan did not notice the way that Kayns scythe began to raise.

"Do it"

Suddenly looking down, Jarvans blue eyes transfix onto the curved neon blade that peaked through his ribs. The King gasps finding his lungs failing to take in breath. He lets out a pained scream as Kayn's scythe twists within his innards before slowly pulling out through his back dragging out the sound of wet ripping. His chest feels hollow and hot blood begins to cascade out splattering onto the cracked marble floor.

Jarvan falls to his knees, collapsing with a thud. His head felt light and his vision began to double and warp, everything was too bright. None of it distracted from the pain that ravaged his chest.

With eyes trembling Jarvan stared up at Kayn in awe. Kayn was close to him, in age and as a friend. They had grown up together, Jarvan as a royal monarch and Kayn as a promising knight. When Jarvan was crowned King after his father he entrusted Kayn to become the first Ordinal, his most loyal lapdog. Given the power to bring order to his empire, Jarvan was foolish. He was blind to the corruption Kayn brewed behind his back. As a law enforcer, Kayn was in charge of planning war strategies when invading new planet systems and protecting the growing empire from dangerous threats. Yet it seemed that the Morningstar was correct and that indeed Kayn was the worst threat of all.

He was suspicious, he grew concerned with Kayns violent ways of serving the empire but this was Kayn: charismatic, charming, nonchalant—a well-spoken man. He was fooled.

Was it from the beginning? Or throughout their friendship, Kayn had come to turn on him? How much of their history was a facade?

That would be a dying question left unanswered as finally Jarvan's body gave out and he slumped onto the floor his lance clattering against the marble, Jarvan was still and breathless.

"You let him bleed out a long and painful death...why?"

"Pathetic beings incapable of acting aren't worthy of a Nobel execution."

With the King dead the empire was finally ready to be claimed. It was time Kayn finally got what he wanted, what he deserved. But becoming King could wait, he practically ran everything as an Ordinal already.

He didn't waste time, all it took was a simple order. All the palace guards who witnessed the Morningstar escape were dead. No one could contest Kayn who just announced that Captain Yasuo had just Murdered the King.

And now that Kayn had made a public announcement to all of Demaxia he now had the entire Empire on a manhunt for the Morningstar. Things were finally coming to an end.

Part ten: Here

[thecatcherinthemind]

Benita ha tre anni. Si cambia il pannolino da sola, è capace di aprire il pan bauletto e di richiuderlo col fil di ferro. Quando qualcosa le cade dice "Sorry", quando per sbaglio ti colpisce mentre gioca si avvicina e chiede scusa in italiano, poi ti dà un bacino. Corre per casa e ti porta ogni oggetto possibile perché vuole che tu le dia le attenzioni che probabilmente non riceve su base quotidiana. Quando la mamma le dice "Behave" torna dritta come un soldatino. La aiuta a mettere le cose in ordine nei cassetti. Ha un orsetto di peluche che si chiama Fadiah.

Parla poco italiano perché la mamma le parla soprattutto in inglese in casa.

Le sue sorelle maggiori invece l'italiano lo parlano, perché vanno a scuola; Gift (chiamata così dalla mamma proprio perché significa "regalo") ha 5 anni ed un peluche di nome Hadem che considera il suo bebè; mi chiede di giocare con lei a far finta di andare in gita o al mare perché non l'ha mai visto. Quando mi chiede di tenere il suo bebè in braccio mi spiega come si fa perché "You are the nanny". Cindy invece ha 12 anni e in casa si occupa della maggior parte delle cose, mi parla in italiano ma fa ancora fatica con le coniugazioni.

La mamma, rimasta vedova due anni fa, cerca di guadagnare quello che può. Cresce le sue figlie in un appartamento fatiscente in una zona non proprio bellissima, ma nella prima capitale d'Italia, cosa di cui si è informata e di cui va fiera. Riceve una telefonata dal fratello che le chiede soldi per il proprio matrimonio, da inviare in Nigeria, rispondendo che "Marriage is God's will, but a man's responsibility". Nel frattempo Benita mi ordina "Now you brush your teeth" perché la mamma le ha insegnato che dopo pranzo si fa così. Io però non ho pranzato, le rispondo che non ho lo spazzolino e lei mi guarda male: la risolviamo con me che la seguo in bagno e faccio finta, anche se non è soddisfatta. Usciamo dal bagno e Gift mi chiede di fare finta di andare in gita e preparare il succo di frutta: usa vecchie confezioni della cera per capelli della mamma, che tiene su uno scaffale con gli altri "giochi" (un cavo del telefono che finge siano le chiavi dell'auto, una spina che finge sia il cellulare, una pallina di gomma che sarà la frutta che portiamo in gita, un cuscino che sarà la borsa dei panini). Salgo sul divano, ossia la nostra auto, le dico di allacciare la cintura e Benita piange, perché ancora è arrabbiata io non mi sia lavata i denti con lei. Per farla tranquillizzare accetto di fare un altro gioco con lei, alle sue condizioni. Il gioco è quello in cui mi fa sedere sulla sedia e fa finta che io stia facendo la cacca, perché ha appena imparato a usare il vasino e lo trova in gioco divertente. Funziona così: lei mi prende per un braccio, mi indica una sedia, io mi siedo, lei dice "Now pupù" e io devo stare ferma qualche secondo, finché lei non decide che ho finito, poi urla "Flush" e mentre imito il rumore dello sciacquone lei guarda in basso e saluta la pupú dicendo "Bye bye". Lo fa un paio di volte, poi sono libera e posso tornare a giocare con Gift, che nel frattempo ha deciso che la nostra finta gita sarà al mare. A quel punto Benita, gelosa del attenzioni mi richiama perché decide che mi scappa di nuovo. Quindi si riparte. Gift allora mi chiede "Now we bring bebé al mare" a cui rispondo "Sorry, I'm pooping". La madre scoppia a ridere, poi sgrida le bimbe "You are stressing her!".

Quando è l'ora di andare, Gift chiede alla mamma "Can nanny stay?". Dopo poche ore con loro credono io sia la tata. Mi viene da piangere. La mamma risponde che no, nanny ha da fare e deve andare via. "Uhmmmm" mugugna Gift, unendo le mani in segno di preghiera verso la mamma. Benita mi segue a piedi nudi per le scale e deve scendere Cindy per riportala in casa.

La saluto facendo Bye Bye.

(Nanny can't stay, sorry)

[scary-movies-on-netflix]

UNDER PARIS (2024)

For a blog that calls itself “Scary Movies on Netflix,” I actually haven’t reviewed a Netflix original horror movie in a long time.  Maybe you’ve noticed that I’ve been binging on movies from the 1960s, but I think it’s time to return to my roots.

This Frenchie flick starts in the Pacific Ocean.  A team of researchers, led by Sophie, are tracking a shark, a mako.  It arrives and is much larger than they expected, seven meters.  That’s more than 20 feet for you non-metric people.  The shark attacks!  Les attaques de requins!  Mon Dieu!  A bunch of people are chomped to death.  Sophie dives in…to save them, I guess.  She sees the shark and it drags her down into the depths via piece of garbage wrapped around her foot.  Sophie manages to free herself and swims to the surface. 

A few years later she is a traumatized worker at an aquarium.  In Paris!  She is approached by Mika, a sharks’ right activist, who tells Sophie she has tracked that same shark, who they call Lillith, to Paris!  It has followed Sophie and is now swimming in the Seine!  That night Mika dives into the river to investigate a submerged car.  The driver side door has shark bite marks, and she is menaced by a shadowy shape…of a shark!  The French river police (la police fluviale), led by Adil, arrive and retrieve Mika from the water.  Mika eventually mentions something about sharks and has the police summon Sophie.  Sophie goes diving with the police to convince them that there actually is a shark.  Sophie and the police then approach the mayor of Paris, but she is more concerned about the upcoming triathlon than the general safety of Paris (much like how they didn’t want to close the beach in “Jaws” (1975)). 

Meanwhile, Mika and her shark activist friends make a whole social media thing out of the shark.  Mika wants to safely lead the shark back into the ocean, and she and a bunch of people gather in an underwater catacomb (last seen in “As Above, So Below” (2014)) with some kind of sonar device to attract the shark.  One of Mika’s friends (Ben) narcs on her, and the police follow Mika and her friends to the catacombs.  The shark arrives!  Along with a baby shark!  Mika is grabbed by the sharks and torn apart, and then the sharks chomp on a bunch more people.  (Ben is knocked out by people scrambling to escape the water and drowns.)  It is a disaster.  Une catastrophe! The mayor blames the police for the debacle and places the military in charge of the triathlon’s safety, which she refuses to cancel!

Sophie and the police ignore the mayor’s orders and devise a plan to kill the shark, which they earlier discovered can now reproduce by parthenogenesis.  They’re going to attract the shark back to that underwater catacomb and set off a bomb.  Une bombe, mon petite fromage! Meanwhile, the mayor opens the triathlon, and a bunch of people start swimming in the Seine.  The bomb is detonated, but most of the cops are eaten by sharks.  Sophie and Idril make it back to the river.  Sophie inspects the collapsed river wall, but the giant shark busts through!  The bomb didn’t work! 

The shark capsizes the cop’s boat (they needed a bigger boat, heh) and eats some more cops.  It then heads toward the triathlon swimmers!  It starts to munch on them, and finally jumps out of the water to bite a swimmer.  It’s another disaster!  Everyone starts to panic.  The military shows up and they begin to shoot at the shark in the water with machine guns and sniper rifles.  This sets off unexploded World War 2 ordinance still in the Seine, and there must be a lot of the stuff, because there are a bunch of explosions, which destroy numerous bridges!  This then causes a huge, tsunami-like wave to sweep down the Seine!  The mayor is swept away! 

We finally see Sophie pull Adil to safety atop a kiosk roof.  We pull back to see that central Paris has been flooded.  Like, from Notre Dame all the way to Champ-de-Mars, and more.  There are sharks everywhere.  La fin.

This was…sort of a mess.  It’s a monster shark movie, but it’s also a disaster film.  It points out the disaster of so many sharks being killed by mankind, but the shark activist gets eaten by a shark!  Quelle ironie!  The filmmaking is competent, to be sure, and there are plenty of gorgeous views of Paris along the Seine.  Shots of the single shark, huge and menacing, were well done, but group attacks looked a bit artificial.  The ending was ridiculous, but I still found myself grinning because of the escalating series of disasters.  A tsunami?  In Paris?  That’s full of sharks?  Count me in.

[mogai-sunflowers]

MOGAI BHM- Day 5!

happy BHM! today I’m going to be giving a bit of a run-down on the different bus boycott movements that happened throughout the Civil Rights Movement leading up to the Montgomery Bus Boycott, which will be discussed separately in an upcoming post!

Bus Boycott of Baton-Rouge, 1953-

[Image ID: A black-and-white portrait photograph of T.J Jemison, a Black man wearing a black suit, white undershirt, a black neck tie, and thick-framed glasses. End ID.]

In 1953, a man named Reverend T.J Jemison started the first bus boycott of the South. In Baton Rouge, 80% of public bus riders were Black, and yet they were forced to sit in the back of buses in smaller, cramped areas than white passengers. 

In February of 1953, Jemison appealed for the rights of Black bus riders in front of an all-white city council, which soon resulted in the unanimous passing of Ordinance 222, which, though it didn’t end segregation on the buses, implemented a first-come, first-serve seating policy. 

To test this ordinance, a 23 year-old Black woman named Martha White sat down in the white section of a bus. She was ordered to move, didn’t budge, and was then joined by another Black woman, who also refused to move. When police were called, Jemison was near by and he tried to intervene, but was then removed from the bus. However, the bus driver was suspended for violating Ordinance 222, which was later repealed by the city council for violating the city’s segregation laws.

These events inspired outrage among Baton Rouge’s Black communities, and, with Reverend T.J Jemison at the helm, Black leaders from the area formed the United Defense League. On the night of June 18, 1953, a crowded meeting of members and local Black people spent the night making announcements of a bus boycott- they knocked on doors, posted flyers, and sent announcements broadcasted via popular radio stations.

The next day, June 19, 1953, Black riders refused to ride buses. Jemison established the Free Ride system, a carpooling system that involved specific pick-up points for Black people to be able to avoid buses without having to walk everywhere. The boycott lasted 5 days, when Jemison reached a compromise with the city council, who passed Ordinance 251.

Ordinance 251 reduced the amount of reserved white seats, providing more seating and room for Black riders- but it also ended the first-come, first-serve policy, meaning that even if there were empty white seats, Black riders would still have to stand. Many of the boycott’s participants were angry with Jemison for this, but nevertheless, the boycott successfully demonstrated the swift power of direct action. Jemison’s bus boycott became the blueprint for the Montgomery Bus Boycott.

The Bus Boycott of Spartanburg, SC, 1955-

[Image ID: A black-and-white photograph of the face of Ruth Beatty, a middle-aged Black woman with short curly hair wearing a grey shirt. She is smiling. End ID.]

In 1955, news of Rosa Parks and the Montgomery Bus Boycott was spreading rapidly. In Spartanburg, SC, a woman named Ruth Beatty was inspired by Rosa Parks. She wanted to do the same thing in her city, because she was also forced to the dehumanization of bus segregation. She decided to start a bus boycott of her own to challenge bus segregation in Spartanburg.

Ruth enlisted the help of her Black neighbors- they boycotted buses, organized rides with the help of local ministers who picked up Black people to drive them where they need to go, and spread word of a boycott to other Black people in the city. Two years later, in 1957, the tireless efforts of Ruth Beatty, Black ministers of Spartanburg, and Spartanburg’s Black citizens, paid off- Spartanburg, SC, fully integrated its public bus systems.

The Bus Boycott of Tallahassee, Florida, 1956-

[Image ID: A somewhat-blurry picture of a black-and-white news paper clipping. The clipping shows a large headline which reads “FAMU Students Start Boycott Of City Buses”, followed by a sub-heading which reads “Action Follows Cross Burning”. The actual article in the clipping is illegible in the picture, and on its left is a picture of three people, one Black and two white, facing each other. End ID.]

On May 26, 1956, two Black students from FAMU, named Carrie Patterson and Wilhelmina Jakes, sat in the whites-only section of a bus. When ordered to move, they refused, so they were arrested and charged with potentially inciting a riot. Outraged over the injustice, the two students began organizing with other students on their campus to start a bus boycott.

Wilhelmina and Carrie worked with a local leader, Reverend C.K Steele, to establish the Inter-Civic Council, the ICC, to help coordinate and oversee the bus boycott. Lasting from May of 1956 to December of the same year, this bus boycott followed the blueprint of the Montgomery Bus Boycott. It gained support both from the FAMU campus and surrounding communities. Participants organized carpools to help Black riders avoid buses.

Organized by the Inter-Civic Council, the carpools resulted in the arrest of many carpool organizers for “operating an illegal transportation franchise”. They were heavily fined, and but the carpools continued.

In November of 1956, the Montgomery Bus Boycott resulted in the Supreme Court ruling of Browder v. Gayle, which ended segregation on Alabama buses, but the Tallahassee bus boycott continued for another month. C.K Steele and other Black local leaders challenged the enforcement of the case by sitting in whites-only sections of the buses and refusing to move. Then, finally, on Janurary 7, 1957, the boycott succeeded in integrating Tallahassee buses.

Birmingham Bus Boycott-

[Image ID: A black-and-white photograph of Dr. Fred Shuttlesworth, a Black man with short hair, wearing a grey suit with a white undershirt and a necktie, crossing his arms as they rest on a surface, and smiling widely. End ID.]

On December 20, 1956, a man named Dr. Fred Shuttlesworth challenged bus segregation laws in Birmingham by offering an ultimatum to the city council- they had six days to desegregate the bus system pending a bus boycott. 

5 days later, Shuttlesworth and his whole family survived a bombing attack on his home, but nevertheless, he pressed on with the bus boycott and started it officially on December 26, 1956.

The bus boycotts of Birmingham officially ended two years later, in November of 1958. Shuttlesworth tragically passed away before he could see Birmingham’s buses fully integrated in the early 1960s.

Atlanta Bus Boycott-

[Image ID: A black-and-white photograph of 5 Black men in a small room. Th room is cluttered with a bookshelf on the right wall and a desk in the foreground, at which one of the 5 men is seated. The other 4 men are standing behind him. All the men are smiling and are dressed in formal suit attire. End ID.]

Differing from other formal bus boycotts of the time period, the Atlanta bus boycott movement was a planned one-time event with intentionally limited membership. It was led by Reverend William Holmes Borders who, with five other men, founded the “Triple L Movement”, the movement of Love, Law, and Liberation with the intent of challenging the Supreme Court decision of Browder v. Gayle to extend to Atlanta’s city buses.

This boycott was designed to create a scenario where the 6 men could create a legal challenge to extend bus desegregation. They did not allow anyone else to participate, and they notified the city council ahead of the time to let them know about their plan. The men specifically vowed not to sit next to white women, which continued through their successful campaign.

On January 9, 1957, 6 men- Reverend Holmes along with 5 other ministers- boarded the whites-only section of a bus, leading to warrants for them. They were taken in a marked police car to the city council, where hordes of onlookers supporting the men tried to stop the police car. Contrarily, though, Rev. Holmes had planned for the arrest to happen to force Atlanta’s hand in court, so he requested that the crowds disperse so his plans could continue.

Two years after this event, Atlanta’s federal district court ruled in favor of the six ministers, citing Browder v. Gayle as precedent, and for the following two weeks, the six men urged restraint among Black riders to wait a little while and then integrate the buses. Though buses were integrated, they cautioned Black men against sitting next to white women, and white ridership of the public buses dramatically declined.

Rock Hill Bus Boycott-

[Image ID: A faded black-and-white photograph of Reverend Cecil Augustus Ivory, a Black man who is smiling and wearing a white shirt with a faintly plaid suit jacket and a striped necktie. End ID.]

In 1957, a white woman invited a Black woman named Addelene Austin to sit next to her on the bus- but the bus driver didn’t accept it and asked her to get up. Addelene was upset and got off the bus, and word of her experience spread rapidly among Rock Hill’s Black community. 

Led by Reverend Cecil Augustus Ivory, local chapters of the NAACP and the Council of Human Relations organized bus protests. They extended the protests to include the taxi services as well, because Rock Hill’s taxi services were owned by the same bus company whose segregationist policies were being challenged.

The boycotts forced Rock Hill’s Star Transit out of business. Following this, local Black community leaders raised enough funds to get two buses to create their own integrated bus system in Rock Hill, which operated for four years, until 1961. Four years later, in 1965, a new bus service was established, and it offered integrated services to all Rock Hill citizens.

Tuscaloosa Bus Boycott-

[Image ID: A black-and-white photograph of Reverend T.Y Rogers, a Black man wearing thin wired glasses, a suit jacket over his priest garments, gesturing with his hands. He stands on a street in front of the Jefferson Davis Hotel. End ID.]

Tuscaloosa is a city with a rich history of Black self-protection and self-determination. Black men who lived in Tuscaloosa often armed themselves and strolled Black neighborhoods at night to ward off white supremacist attackers, and they also frequently did the same to protect Black establishments, especially religious ones.

Tuscaloosa’s public bus system, Druid City Buses, was segregated and only hired white drivers, despite 90% of its riders being Black. On May 5, 1962, in a planned effort to challenge the frustrating scenarios that Black people encountered on public transits in Tuscaloosa, four Black students, one a high school student and the other three students from Stillman College sat in the front of a bus and refused to move to the back. They were eventually thrown off the bus and attacked by an angry mob.

In response to this, a local man named Reverend Willie Herzfeld created the Tuscaloosa Citizens for Action Committee, which helped challenge bus segregation in Tuscaloosa. However, segregation continued on the Druid City buses, until the shooting of a Black person by a white person on a city bus in August of 1963 sparked a more organized bus boycott.

The boycott resulted in a 60% drop of bus ridership, which devasted the Druid City Transit company so much that they chose to end services altogether rather than integrate their buses. Led by Reverend Theophilus Y. Rogers Jr., the bus boycott included an organized and complex system of “courtesy cars”, similar to the carpool systems implemented by other boycott movements. After the Druid City Transit buses went out of business on November 10, 1964, it took a few months for bus integration to occur. It finally did on April 12, 1965, when a new bus service, the Tuscaloosa Transit Company, began integrated service.

Other Bus Boycotts-

Many other bus boycotts took place throughout the 50s and 60s. In Jackson, Tennessee, 4 Black students from Lane College forced the desegregation of their city’s bus system through a staged bus protest on October 14, 1960.

In Macon, Georgia, 4 Black ministers initiated three weeks of peaceful bus protests that, after a few months, led to the integration of the city’s buses in 1962.

Bus boycotts were a staple of the Civil Rights Movement and reflect a legacy of Black direct action and self-determination.

Sources-

https://64parishes.org/entry/baton-rouge-bus-boycott

https://64parishes.org/entry-image/the-free-ride-system

https://www.goupstate.com/story/news/2005/11/27/stories-from-spartanburg-recalling-the-struggle/29351732007/ 

https://www.zinnedproject.org/news/tdih/tallahassee-bus-boycott/ 

https://www.floridamemory.com/learn/classroom/learning-units/civil-rights/tallahasseebusboycott/

https://blackamericaweb.com/2016/12/26/little-known-black-history-fact-birmingham-bus-boycott/ 

https://www.georgiaencyclopedia.org/articles/history-archaeology/bus-desegregation-in-atlanta/ 

[forensicated]

Smiffina Episodes: Frontline 1: Shockwave.

Emma is playing fast and loose with Callum's feelings since she realised he liked her (it's all very last minute and unclear tbf, they'd have been better off making it Nate after he and Emma had been flirting up a storm for multiple episodes around the time of the Witness, though I guess Nate is too flighty and not brooding enough unlike Callum.) It's all very weird and stilted and Callum is behaving strangely to say the least. After he warns Emma 'to be careful out there', Sally tries to find out what's going on. Mid explanation there's two explosions which the girls run towards. One is a nightclub that was largely empty due to it being the daytime and the other a photocopy shop. Emma and Sally are the only officers on the scene at first and are faced with people screaming for help, people in shock, blood pouring from wounds, unconscious people and a huge amount of debris and smoke all over. In the area car, Callum and Will are next on the scene as Gina tries to manage it from the control room via CCTV and reports from her officers. In the middle of the initial response, a man pretends to be a doctor and sexually assaults one of the victims who is trapped in her car. He then assaults Emma, pushing her away, causing Callum to rush in as a knight on white steed and act like her hand was cut off in her fall rather than a cut.

Gina looks shell shocked as she tries to co-ordinate the police response and organise fire brigade and ambulance attendance. She wants to be out in the thick of it to help but Heaton insists she stay at the station and run their response from there.

The police officers are getting frustrated with the press and public at the scene of the explosions and hospital. They're more interested in getting pictures/information than letting help get through. "Idiots!" Ben growls, as they don't move for the ambulance literally blaring its sirens behind them! At the hospital Smithy is forcing the press and rubberneckers out of the hospital grounds as much as possible, "If I find out someone's asking what it's like to be blown up...!!!"

SO15 are taking control of the blast sights, behaving as though it's a terrorist incident for the time being. They want to lock down the two blast areas but as Gina points out, the amount of casualties waiting for transport to hospital and the walking wounded and emergency personnel on site mean that that is impossible.

"Phase two of the public response has started..." Gina sighs, having a very angry warehouseman repeatedly ringing in because he's unhappy with the response time of officers after he called in a potential burglary of his premises. Smithy takes Emma off the cordon as she's behaving as though she's in shock and sets her and Sally onto the mini-crimewave that has sparked up in the hope that all police would be dealing with the explosion.

Sally and Emma concentrate on tracking down the fake doctor as he's moved on from sexual assaulting to telling the injured that they're ok and to go home and rest when they should be in the hospital, causing one man to be rushed in after collapsing at home.

Richard Frost, the fake doctor, is found to be living with his overprotective mother who doesn't believe that he's capable of sexual assault, claiming he's being harassed by the police and another accuser 'just because he loves his mother!' It becomes very obvious that Frost cannot take being told no. Emma calls Callum 'a bent cop' after he holds Frost by the throat. "You're not the officer I thought you were." he scoffs. "You're not the man I thought you were either." She returns, walking off, leaving him holding Frost and shouting her name

SO15 suspect 100% now that the bombings were planned and that police - at Barton St - were alerted to them via an email the day before and that there's another one planned but no clue to where, when or why. Suicide bombers are ruled out and traces of nitroglycerin are found at both scenes so it appears it's either timer or remote controlled detonation.

Emma finds smoke pouring from a warehouse and is tasked to evacuate it. Emma goes back in to try find the 4 unaccounted for. Gina tells her to take a quick sweep of the building and to get out. Emma finds three and keeps searching for another as Sally, Callum, Will, Nate and others head towards the warehouse. Finally she finds the man she's been looking for and they leave but before Emma can get out she hears a door and runs towards two men inside - just as there is an explosion. Emma's radio only plays static now when Gina tries to contact her to the horror of Gina and the other officers in the control room.

Callum is first onscene with Sally second and Ben, Nate and Will bringing up the rear. Will calls for am ambulance as Callum and Sally try and revive her.

[taylorswiftstyle]

The Eras Tour | 1989 section | Version 5

Roberto Cavalli custom Christian Louboutin custom

One of the signature elements of the Eras Tour costuming has been how it balances visually referencing eras past but refreshing them for the modern day. Her co-ordinating tops and skirts worn for the 1989 section are a great example. The previous quad of beaded ensembles (pink, gree[eeeee]n, orange, and blue) all featured colours and coordination that embodied the polish and shine of the original 1989 era but in a new, fitted skirt silhouette.

With Version 5 by Fausto Puglisi for Roberto Cavalli we see a lot of changes in tactic. From the ombre shading, the skater skirt fit, the incorporation of the Cavalli big cat emblem at the bust, and the two tone element. To me it all falls much closer to the original costuming of the 1989 Tour with bralettes and metallic skater skirts by Jessica Jones. Many of the new outfits debuted in Paris seem to have undergone what I call a 'makeunder' to more closely resemble their original, canonical tour ensembles and not the refreshed 'Taylor Versions’ we’ve seen thus far on the Eras Tour in 2023/24.

Unless this is Taylor's cheeky attempt at an Alvin and the Chipmunks meme replication I'm a bit stumped on the decision to go cotton candy two tone across this entire outfit - mismatched Louboutins included. My only thought is there is one very famous New Yorker known for mismatching her Louboutins which would be an apt 1989 era reference if intentional: Carrie Bradshaw.

Photo by Kevin Mazur/TAS24 via Getty Images

[rayzzamatazz]

so my good friend and talented tattoo artist Sarah Grossman is seeking to open an art gallery and tattoo parlor in a town desperately needing some "color."

she's started a petition to find general support via numbers, to show a rather conservative city board that this will be a good thing in changing a local ordinance regarding tattoo parlors being classified as a strip club, and allowing her to set up shop.

if you want to just sign in support or share it with the world, it would mean... well, the world to me and Sarah.

if you want to see Sarah's work, you can check out her Instagram

https://www.instagram.com/sgrossman_ink/?hl=en

[evoldir]

Fwd: Course: Czechia.WildlifeMalariaNetwork.Sept1-5

Begin forwarded message: > From: evoldir@evol.biology.mcmaster.ca > Subject: Course: Czechia.WildlifeMalariaNetwork.Sept1-5 > Date: 27 February 2024 at 06:12:39 GMT > To: rdmpage@gmail.com > > > Pre-Announcement: funding for Wildlife Malaria Network (WIMANET) 1st > Summer Training School > > The Wildlife Malaria Network 1st Summer Training School will take place > from 1st – 5th September 2024 in Field station Mohelno, Mohelno, > Czechia. The training school will consist of five days of lectures and > practical activities designed to introduce students to a broad range of > research activities and skills related to working with Wildlife Malaria > Parasites. Topics will include sample collection and storage, analysis of > haematological parameters and an introduction to parasite identification, > analysis of genetic sequence data, collection and identification of > vector species, and methods to analyse community-level data. Specific > topics will be tailored to the requirements of the selected students. > > Geographical restrictions on funded places apply > according to COST funding rules, and more information on > eligibility can be found in the Annotated Rules for COST Actions > (https://ift.tt/024aATE). > All teaching materials will be available through the WIMANET website > (https://ift.tt/qbHlEY9) after the course has concluded. > > Applications are open to anyone interested in learning techniques > to work with wildlife malaria parasites, but applicants must have an > eCOST profile and have applied to be a member of WIMANET in order for > their application to be approved. You can apply to join WIMANET here: > https://ift.tt/L4zTns8, and more information about the > network can be found here: https://ift.tt/qbHlEY9 > > The call for applications for the Wildlife Malaria Network > 1st Summer Training School will open on 1st March and close on > 31stMarch. Applications must be e-mailed to the Grant Awarding > Co-ordinator, Dr Alexandra Conduneanu (alexandra.corduneanu@usamvcluj.ro > ), and to the WIMANET account (wimanet.science@gmail.com). > The application consists of the following documents: > > - a motivation letter detailing the benefits for the applicant and >  relevance of the training school to current research, > > - Anticipated travel budget in Euros (costs of transport to Vaclav Havel >  Airport Prague, and travel insurance) > > - a support letter from the Home Institution, > > - a CV, including a list of academic publications if applicable. > > The applications will be ranked by the Core Group based on: > - benefits to the applicant in terms of career progression > - benefit and contribution to the development of the COST Action > > The selection will follow the COST policies on inclusiveness (gender, > age, geography). > > The final ranking will be approved by the Action Chair and Co-Chair. > All researchers who applied to the call will be informed of the outcome > of their application by 19th April. > > The selected researchers should wait for the official invitation from > the Grant Holder before booking any travel arrangements. > > Please direct any questions to wimanet.science@gmail.com, and please > alert any students who may be interested and not on the evoldir mailing > list to this opportunity. > > Best wishes, > > Jenny > > > Dr Jenny Dunn (she/her) > > Senior Lecturer in Animal Health and Disease, > Postgraduate Research co-Lead, > Chair, Wildlife Malaria Network COST Action, > School of Life and Environmental Sciences, > University of Lincoln, > Joseph Banks Laboratories, > Lincoln, LN6 7DL, UK > Twitter: @jennycdunn > > Google Scholar: https://ift.tt/UYtFpPB > Wildlife Malaria Network: https://ift.tt/0Lh4yFq > via Email February 27, 2024 at 07:31AM

[saintmeghanmarkle]

Daily Mail: Meghan Markle 'can't wait to visit Nigeria for her mum and the kids' Invictus organiser reveals - as Duchess cheers on African team after discovering her heritage following genealogy test by u/Strixtheowl

Daily Mail: Meghan Markle 'can't wait to visit Nigeria for her mum and the kids', Invictus organiser reveals - as Duchess cheers on African team after discovering her heritage following genealogy test Sigh. And so it begins.Archive link: https://ift.tt/RypedPE Cobbinah, who helped co-ordinate Nigeria's debut in this year's competition, told Hello! that the Duchess was 'deeply touched' by the nickname and that she is hoping to organise a family trip to the country....It came as Meghan was given a rock star welcome at the Games in Dusseldorf yesterday as she made her first appearance at a sports event with Harry.Crowds leapt to their feet to cheer and applaud her, who seemed taken aback by the rapturous welcome and took her seat in the Merkur Spiel-Arena. ....Harry, who has been happily posing for dozens of selfies with fans, took a back seat as most people in the crowd wanted to be photographed with Meghan. post link: https://ift.tt/05cA8ky author: Strixtheowl submitted: September 14, 2023 at 02:43PM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit