#we do very much like slaughter squared

[soloveyko]

Russia invaded Ukraine.

Any "deal" which rewards Russia in its mass butchery, rape, and slaughter of Ukrainians is not a peace plan, it is a capitulation. It is a green light to Russia that they are free to murder their way through Ukraine as much as they please down the line, bringing 19th century style colonial warfare forward to the 21st century. This behavior by Russia has historical precedence stretching back centuries--longer than the U.S., in fact, has been a country. Ukrainians understand this. They have lived it, generation upon generation. They know what happens when you make a "deal" with Russia.

For any Westerner, and this includes the President of the United States, to lecture Ukrainians about peace is an abject disgrace to the sacrifices Ukraine has made for democracy and freedom. We in the U.S. should be thanking Ukraine, lest our soldiers be the ones dying in the fields for freedom. To those Americans who object to us supporting Ukraine by sending our decades-old tech, which sits unused in bone fields, to Ukraine so that they might survive another day, ask yourselves: Would you rather pay with your blood? Every civilian butchered, every Ukrainian child stolen, and every inch of Ukrainian land torn away incurs a debt to both justice and righteousness. What we don't pay in dollars now, we will pay with bodies later. Ask the Ukrainians what that means, for they have already been paying the ultimate price for over ten years straight.

I have been to Ukraine before and after the war; I have seen their beautiful town squares filled with flowers replaced with the long bulletin boards of portraits of soldiers who died defending liberty. There is no American alive today who bears the tired eyes of Ukrainians waking up to the sound of sirens every day, for three years straight, because their homes are under threat of bombardment and destruction. What happened to the America of my grandfathers, the lauded "Arsenal of Democracy", who would have stood unflinchingly behind a people fighting for their freedom and ours and been proud of it? Are we truly okay with voting alongside the real murderous, bloody dictators like Vladimir Putin, Alexander Lukashenko, and Kim Jong Un, who achieve their goals in this world by crossing mountains made from the bodies of slaughtered innocents?

To my Ukrainian friends, I'm so sorry. I'm ashamed beyond words to watch the President of my country berate yours in what is supposed to be the People's office. Please know that millions of Americans do not stand for this: We stand behind you and we stand with Ukraine, even if our country has abdicated its role in defending liberty. May America rediscover her priorities and recover from the disgrace of the words said today by men who have no shame, and may Russia lose this bloody, murderous, genodical war. It could end today if Russia simply went home. It is that easy, it always was, and it always will be, no matter how the powerful may try to rape the truth.

Слава Україні, until the very end. 🕊💙💛

[softlymellow]

The Order Forgot Me First - Chapter 6

☆⁠ PAIRING : Anakin Skywalker x Reader

☆⁠ word count: 3.3k

☆⁠ story themes: lovers to enemies to eventually lovers

☆⁠ warnings: spoilers to swtcw, angstttt

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

"...he almost remembered what it meant to him. Except he didn't. Instead, it was a taste from a dream he couldn’t quite remember."

A dimly lit mission room deep within the Jedi Temple, Anakin Skywalker, Obi-wan Kenobi and Mace Windu gathered around a holographic display. The hum of the holographic offered a soft backdrop to their conversation. 

“Many reports of two skilled bounty under the names ‘Ani’ and ‘Dev’ have been causing disruptions across various sectors.” Mace Windu sternly said whilst Anakin gulped at the use of a name he hasn’t heard in a year. “They have slipped through the Republic forces on multiple occasions.” 

Obi-wan leaned forward, “two bounty hunters causing this much trouble? That's unusual.” 

“Indeed. But their methods have grown more aggressive, even by bounty hunter standards. What is more concerning is Dev. ” Mace Windu tapped the datapad and the holographic image flickered to life, a materialised image of a young boy no older than 15. 

“But that’s only a boy.” Anakin furrowed his eyebrows at Mace Windu, confusion evident on his face. 

“Once a boy, yes. He was once a skilled Jedi, dismissed from the Order for the refusal to adhere to the Code. His descent began when he lost his family and, in a fit of anger, slaughtered civilians. Dark tendencies grew within him.” 

Anakin stiffened immediately and felt a foreboding feeling grow in his stomach. Obi-wan's expression darkened beside him. “A former Jedi turned bounty hunter with such a violent past…It’s troubling.” 

“And what about this..Ani?” Anakin reluctantly asked. 

“She is a much newer addition to the bounty hunting world, but she has proved to be some sort of a prodigy. They were just spotted on Corellia after a bombing to capture Dengar, another well known bounty who worked with Maul and Savage to capture me.” Mace Windu informed them, turning off the holograph. 

Obi-wan frowned, concern etching lines on his face. “We’re going after two bounty hunters? Isn’t that more of a job for local security forces in Corellia?” 

Mace’s gaze shifted from Anakin to Obi-wan, “You both are uniquely skilled in dealing with unconventional situations. We need to contain them before they both spiral out of control.”

Anakin’s jaw tightened, resolve evident in his eyes. “Understood, Master Windu.” 

Obi-wan nodded in agreement, his focus unwavering. “We’ll head to Corellia immediately.”

“Good. May the force guide your actions.” Mace Windu stood tall. 

—

Anakin and Obi-wan sat in the ship en route to Corellia. Neither had spoken a word, just eyes drifting at the stars that illuminated outside. 

Dev.

Ani. 

Not their real names. It wasn't hard to miss the amount of blanks throughout their whole file. Dev's one gave a general consensus though; a disobedient Jedi Padawan, now a runaway. But the latter… No image. No backstory. It was as if she only existed a few months ago. 

Anakin ran a hand through his hair, teeth gnawing the inside of lips. His eyes lazily read the datapad in his lap. A boy stared back at him. Dev. Just 15 years of age in the image, younger than the recent sightings of him. Much younger. His eyes looked hollow, already hard. Like part of him had lost something but was never filled again. 

“Nothing on the girl?” Obi-wan asked beside him, still gazing out the window, but deep in thought. 

Anakin inhaled, his chest rising against his robes and shook his head. “Nothing. Her name is clearly a placeholder, but no record of her.” Anakin turned off the datapad. 

“She is either very smart,” Obi-wan murmured, “or lucky.” 

Anakin leaned in his seat not liking either answer. “What business do they have blowing up a civilian square in the middle of a Corellian protest?” 

Obi-wan stroked his beard, “I’d say they are after another bounty hunter. Denger I assume. He was spotted here the night before.”

“So they try and bring him in, only to level half the plaza in the process?”

“Looks like it.”

Scoffing, Anakin dragged his hand down his face. 

Outside the ship, Corellia was a mess. Alarms sounding through the cities, smoke darkening the skies and protest fires on the rooftops. What was usually a beautiful planet is now filled with protests against the war. 

Once the ship doors opened, Anakin and Obi-wan were hit with heat. Not physical. But tension. Soldiers and civilians buzzing through the streets, it was as if they weren’t at a docking platform. 

“Well, it seems like we have your day cut out for us.” Obi-wan muttered as they made their way down the streets, glancing at the protest signs abandoned on the floor. “No Justice, No peace” was written in Corellian dialect. 

Burn marks scattered around the floor piquing Anakin’s interests. Crouching down, his fingers gently grazed the soot left, leaving his fingers darkened. 

“There was a bombing,” Anakin concluded, spotting several pieces of metal scattered around the floor. 

Obi-wan nodded, "the security reports said they did vanish into the crowds before troops arrived.” His eyes scanned the crowd up ahead. “I’d say our perpetrators are there.” 

That annoyed Anakin more than it should have. 

“Then we’ll start there,” Anakin said. 

— 

Corellia bled with fury and fight. 

Anakin walked ahead, his hood drawn low and his feet dragging along the concrete, stones skidding away. He wasn’t really in the mood. Trying to find 2 cloaked figures in a sea of more cloaked figures wasn’t exactly ideal. After 2 hours of dead ends, he kept replaying the grainy footage hoping it would offer a clue. 

On the other hand, Obi-wan walked behind being Obi-wan. A calm diplomatic Jedi master. He was always asking the right questions to the right vendors, nodding and being friendly. His warm voice made people eager and more keen to offer tips. 

“I spoke to the surveillance clerk”, Obi-wan broke the silence, catching up to Anakin. “He said the crowd tripled after the bombing, half running to shelter and the other protesting even more.” 

Anakin stopped in front of a sign that read “THE REPUBLIC DOESN’T SEE US”, the edges of the banner burnt. 

“Give it a few days and then the Senate will fix this with a speech.”

Obi-wan’s face hardened, “Well it is the Senate’s job to do that.”

“It shouldn’t be.” Anakin muttered, leaving Obi-wan dumbfounded. Did he mean that the planet should fend for itself, fixing its own politics? Or did he mean that the Senate was useless, giving out speeches with no real backlayer. Maybe a bit of both. 

Obi-wan pursed his lips, his eyes scanning the buildings that now had a layer of dust covering it. Walking was starting to get irritating as every few seconds a person would nudge their shoulder with their own, making them lose focus every few seconds. 

That’s when Anakin saw it. 

Small smears of red on the cobblestone wall. Dried and just there. Followed by a few more droplets that painted the floor into an alley. 

Anakin crouched down taking a further look, gaining Obi-wan’s attention. 

“Blood.” Obi-wan hummed, stroking his beard thoughtfully. 

“Might not be theirs.”

“Still, we are Jedi. Whoever blood it belongs to may need help.” Obi-wan advised. 

They followed the trail that led to a rusted backdoor. Anakin didn’t hesitate. Immediately pushing past the door as it creaked loudly. 

It was dim inside. 

And in the corner was an elderly Twi’lek couple. 

Anakin and Obi-wan both flinched, least expecting to break into a home. 

The couple sat on the floor, a blanket engulfing their lower body and a half-crushed medpac that rested near their feet. 

Obi-wan immediately put his hands up in defence, “We’re not here to harm you.”

The couple's eyes traced both Anakin and Obi-wan’s figure, their eyes flickering between the saber’s that rested on their hip and their defensive face.

Noticing that they haven’t said anything, Anakin used the opportunity and stepped forward, the woman clutched her blanket a bit tightly. 

“We’re investigating the bombing that happened here. Do you know anything about that?” 

The male shook his head, his blue tentacle like tendrils moving with him, “N-no.”

Obi-wan moved up with Anakin, realising that they can speak Basic. “A young man with blonde hair and a cloaked girl. Does it sound any familiar?”

The couple stiffened. 

Silence. 

Anakin folded his arms and furrowed his brows, “they came here. Didn’t they?” His tone lowered. 

Silence. 

“They paid you.” Obi-wan spoke calmly, already analysing the situation. 

The purple woman looked down, and then gently picked up the half used medpac, her hands shaking. 

“The girl…was worried.” Her voice was soft spoken. “Not for herself, but him. He was bleeding.”

Obi-wan crossed his arms, parallel to Anakin and stared down the medpac. “So you helped them..”

“It is not a crime to help someone!” The man besides her called out defensively, squinting his eyes. 

���Well it is a crime to help terrorists,” Anakin muttered, but loud enough for everyone to hear. 

“Terrorists?” The woman's eyes widened. “They were terrorists?”

Obi-wan glanced over to Anakin and tried to laugh it off, not wanting to send the couple into cardiac arrest. “Well. We aren’t sure of anything.” He tilted his head. “Do you know where they are now?”

The older woman nodded speedily,  “She said she was heading to the city square where the protests are. Near the farmers market. But..she was scared.” 

Anakin lifted his brow, “of what?” 

Looking him dead in the eye, “being seen,” she announced. 

–

Obi-wan and Anakin were on the outskirts, just enough steps to see the masses of bodies that moved. 

Protestors moved, some shouted and some watched. It wasn’t long before Obi-wan caught a flicker. 

A flicker of gold that was reflecting from the sun. Moving too fast. An uncomfortable limp. 

Obi-wan’s eyes widened and locked onto the figure. Blonde hair. Broad shoulders. It was worth a shot. 

“That might be him,” Anakin huffed, already making his way down, eager to end this mission.

Obi-wan rolled his eyes, “Always ahead of the game,” he said, racing down the steps and into the crowd. 

It was suffocating. You could feel the sweat and anger that radiated off the bodies. 

Obi-wan pushed through bodies, wanting the man to enter a clearing before holding him in the masses of people. Locals were yelling in languages he didn’t recognise which only intensified everything around him. His cloak constantly was snagging on someone’s arm but he didn’t stop, pushing through, curses were flying at him.

He needed an opening - just one - and it would be fine. 

Something is off. 

The force rippled. 

The blonde headed man suddenly turned his head towards Obi-wan.

It was him. It was Dev. 

And not far behind him was a cloaked figure. Her. 

Dev locked eyes with Obi-wan, his eyes widening and stray locks of hair falling on his face. 

“Jedi!” Dev exclaimed to you, his eyes darting between behind you and yourself. 

Without even taking a chance to glance behind you, you began to push through the crowd. Gritting your teeth, you used your arms to almost shove people out of the way. You could not be caught as a bounty hunter. It was not necessarily the legality of it, it was the bombing that was associated with you and it was your honour shattering that you have been reduced to this much. How low the galaxy forced you to crawl just to survive. 

Just a little further. A  little further and there was an opening and you got yourself out of this mess. 

“Dev! Over there!” You barked, pointing towards the clearing. Dev nodded and attempted to make his way out with his limp. His face pale but understanding. He always understood. Understood you. You didn’t need to speak much for him to completely understand you. 

You surged through the crowd with all your might. Suddenly hyper aware of the blaster at your side, your fingers grazed it, ready to use if anyone tried touching you. 

Relief. Oxygen. As you finally made it out of the crowd. Your hands were shaking but you didn’t stop, you can’t stop. 

And then- a shove. 

Dev’s body slammed into the ground right where he was supposed to make it out and the Jedi tackled him to the side. You heard him grunt in protest, his wrists pinned and the right of his face scraped against the ground. 

Before you could react and turn back to Dev, you heard the hum of a saber. 

Right behind you. 

What should I do?

Fuck. 

They’re getting closer. 

Your lungs feel like they could explode and your chest hurts. You’re running so fast. Any of that relief you had just felt from making it out was gone. Dead. You just felt like you were burning. Your veins pumping with adrenaline – hot and sharp and screaming. 

You didn’t dare look behind you. If you did it would slow you down immensely. 

But it didn’t matter. 

A rough hand –bigger than your own– pulling on your forearm, throwing you down, your hood falling in the process. Without another second to think your free arm gripped onto your vibroblade. Having been pulled down to the ground, you shifted your body to meet the Jedi, your blade coated in cortosis weave and pointing up towards said person. 

.

..

…

“Y/n?”

It was like time stopped. 

You locked eyes. 

Your mouth fell open. 

His did too. Confusion. Bewilderment. Shock. All on his face. 

His voice… Sounded different. Quieter than you remembered. It wasn’t anger. It wasn’t hateful. Just quiet. Broken. 

Your right hand weakened and the blade fell down on the floor besides you, the metal clanging against the concrete. Your palms fell on the floor and you found yourself staring at…Anakin above you. 

Anakin staggered back, stunned, as if he was shot straight through the heart. His head shook slowly and ever so subtly but in complete disbelief.

No one said anything. You couldn’t hear anything. It was just you two. Two broken people. The force felt electrifying, like it was rippling and pulling both of you towards each other. 

Anakin loomed over you, the deep blue of his saber still humming, but pointing towards the ground. His own arms feeling too weak to even lift it. His face was unreadable. His dark brown hair looked longer, almost below his ears. His eyes…tired. Like he was staring at a grave. 

It wasn’t until the other Jedi came out, holding Dev in handcuffs that you realised your situation. It was Obi-wan, of course it was. Of course it was Anakin and Obi-wan who would catch up to you. Dev struggled in defiance, his face discontent. 

Obi-wan walked up beside Anakin, and then his eyes fell on you. 

“Y/n?” His voice was quiet, like he wasn’t sure if this was real or not. “You’re Ani?” 

You looked away from him, pursing your lips in shame. What were you supposed to say? You weren’t supposed to be caught, stripped of your mask. You were just supposed to be Ani. Not Y/n. 

You swallowed hard, your fingers soft in comparison to the floor. You were now looking up to both Anakin and Obi-wan but –force– you felt so much smaller than you actually were. 

Anakin inhaled sharply, his saber hissed off yet his grip strong enough that his knuckles were still white. Running a hand through his hair, he turned his back to you, moving away from both you and Obi-wan. You felt the disappointment in the air. You felt the judgement from the people who you used to consider the closest to you. Anakin turning his back to you after a year said more words than he did.

But he could feel his heart hammering against his chest.

thump

He was suddenly hyper aware of his breathing.

thump-thump

The way he wasn't sure what to do with his empty left hand.

thump

The fact that his knees would buck in any minute.

thump-thump-thump

It felt like everything was swirling around him and he needed to ground himself.

However, Obi-wan walked over to you, crouching down to eye level. You noticed the small things in his face, the way he had worry lines on his forehead, a slight frown, and furrowed eyebrows. He wasn’t looking at you like a master or a commander, but a concerned friend. 

“Y/n, you became a bounty hunter?” He asked. 

You didn’t know how to respond. What were you going to say? Yes? Well, yes you are. But suddenly you felt embarrassed. Ashamed. 

“I…” You croaked out. 

“You know them?” Dev called out, struggling against his cuffs. All three of you diverted your gaze to Dev.

Dev broke Anakin from his trance, his need to distract himself hitting him harder than ever. He needed to redirect his attention to something else just like he was doing for the past year. Anakin stood still for a moment before grabbing the back of his shirt, replacing Obi-wan but far too aggressively.

“Hold her.” Anakin said to Obi-wan, forcing his voice to be strong. “We’ll take them somewhere else.”

That’s it? That’s all he’s going to say? 

Anakin spoke as if he didn’t know you. Like you were some lowlife smuggler. Obi-wan even felt caught between two worlds. Was he supposed to disregard your history together? Or would he hold you accountable? 

Clearing his throat, Obi-wan pulled out stuncuffs from his satchel, looking at you as if you were a wounded animal. 

“I’m just going to put these on just for now. Precaution.” He said softly. 

Nodding, you slipped in your fallen vibroblade to your belt and slowly brought out both your arms in front of him. Obi-wan hesitantly and carefully attached the cuffs to your arms.

Click. 

Immediate discomfort radiated in your arms, the restraints tightening specifically on your wrists.

You looked up at Obi-wan who you could tell was uncomfortable with the situation. 

“I’m fine, Obi-wan.” You tried to reassure him. 

Obi-wan nodded, inhaling deeply before getting up. Scrambling to your feet against the concrete, you rose and immediately felt smaller than you were. Now seeing both Obi-wan and Anakin in their usual height, it felt different. Like there was a rift between you three.

Looking over at Anakin, Obi-wan scratched his beard. “We won’t be able to fly tonight. It seems the city's protests will make it difficult to get out slyly.” 

Without a response, Anakin began to drag a cursing Dev to Force knows where. 

Obi-wan followed behind him but distant enough, making sure you were keeping up. 

The walk felt excruciatingly long as there was nothing but pained silence. Every now and then you could feel Obi-wan’s gaze drill holes in you. Anakin said and did nothing but hold onto Dev and try to find an abandoned place for the night. You were lucky enough Obi-wan still trusted you to allow you to walk on your own. 

It wasn’t until he broke the silence. 

“Are you okay?” Obi-wan spoke in a hushed voice, trying not to gain Anakin’s attention but that was naive thinking. Anakin heard everything when it came to you. 

You blinked at the question, unsure what to say. Your throat tightening but you forced out an “I’m okay.” 

Silence. 

A beat passed. 

“Are you?” He asked again but much quieter. He knew your response and he knew not to expect an answer but if he didn’t ask now it would eat his conscience later. 

“Yeah. Just tired.” Anakin’s grip tightened on Dev, their boots scraping and their clothes shifting pulled your focus. 

The sky began to set and orange rays stretched far and wide. Dipped in dusk and every step you took would create long shadows of the three of you. The chants from the protest began to fade and street lights began to flicker on. 

Anakin was a walking storm. He was silent. You missed the way he said your name. It sounded like honey -warm, golden- like he almost remembered what it meant to him. Except he didn't.

Instead, it was a taste from a dream he couldn’t quite remember. 

Anakin stopped at a stone-framed building. Abandoned, yes but still intact. The door had its hinges, there was no lights except from the windows and no lifeforms either. Without saying a word, Anakin dragged Dev inside, the door creaking open and they vanished into the unknown.

You and Obi-wan stood in silence. 

“He’ll be alright.” He said gently, not exactly sure if he meant Dev or Anakin. Nodding, you stepped inside first, the evening wind biting your skin. Obi-wan followed right behind you. 

A/N: YAAAY ITS HAPPENED im sorry its kinda on a cliff hanger ik yall want longer chapters but i also need to catch up and write :( also just a general q do u guys want this to be a full blown series leading up to order 66 following the clone wars final season/eps with more drama and romance and angst or keep it until this like 'arc' ends.

i lowk feel like a longer series but i feel like tumblr isnt the right place for this lol maybe ao3 or wattpad also hope u guys appreciate me trying to use coordinated gifs for the chapters 😭

HOPE U GUYS LIKE IT THO <3

Taglist: @endairachristensen26 @hayden-christensen-verse @ducks118 @seventeen-x @movingalongthekiwi @ssnapsaurus @caramelfondu @dayrin085 @devilslittlehelper @f1wh0recom @green-lxght @bettysgardenswift

if u want to be added or removed lmk!

[slugbeaker]

Some moments I enjoyed from ACOK that kind of further solidify how alienated from Ironborn culture Theon has become. We see it of course in the bigger moments like him just not enjoying any of the reaving he is originally assigned to do with Dagmer and Aeron. But there were two smaller moments that stood out to me too.

"The walls of Winterfell were behind him, but Ser Rodrik faced them squarely and could not fail to see. Theon watched his face. When his chin quivered under those stiff white whiskers, he knew just what the old man was seeing. 'He is not surprised,' he thought with sadness, 'but the fear is there.'"

Even in the midst of using Beth Cassel as leverage to prevent Ser Rodrik from attacking the castle, and after Theon has become a known child killer by all the north, he is still only able to feel sadness when his plan to use Beth works as planned and makes Ser Rodrik hesitate because he is hurt that they are not surprised he would do something like this. Theon has spent ten years of his life among the people of the north and Winterfell specifically and has always to some degree been looked at as a ticking time bomb of a threat, a boy they do not doubt will return to the Greyjoy way if given the chance. Theon has unfortunately proven them right and while that WAS his intent, to show his loyalty to his blood family and the Ironborn, all it has brought him is the realization that he hates to be viewed in this manner near as much he did being viewed a hostage. It excuses none of the more awful things he does in ACOK, but he really is the Prince of Being Caught Between a Rock and a Hard Place in this book lol. Despite how hard he tries, Theon cannot commit to one lifestyle over the other and it leaves him with nothing. The other quote is when the Boltons come and slaughter Ser Rodrik and his men, 'saving' Theon and the Ironborn:

"The crows came in the blue dust, with the evening stars. "The Dothraki believe the stars are spirits of the valiant dead," Theon said. Maester Luwin had told him that, a long time ago.

"Dothraki?"

"The horselords across the narrow sea."

"Oh. Them." Black Lorren frowned through his beard. "Savages believe all manner of foolish things."

Theon tries to say, in his own way, some kind words for the dead that the Boltons are responsible for, these men who he used to serve with side by side. In his mind, words from a warrior culture similar but not the same to the Ironborn, where the dead may be remembered as stars, is probably another way he is trying to assuage his guilty conscience. These men are dead because of him after all. But this is not how an Ironborn is meant to react to violence and Black Lorren appears uncaring at best and put off at worst from Theon's attempt to eulogize these dead northmen. Also of course the irony of him considering the Dothraki savage people when to the rest of Westeros the Ironborn are VERY much considered savage as well.

This isn't even really a thought out analysis lol I just was struck by these moments on .y reread. Theon is....sensitive. And no matter how much he tries to shove that down, and no matter how awful he can be, and he CAN be, he cannot change that part of himself. He's not that guy. Hopefully coming to terms with that in the final two books is a part of his reclaiming his identity storyline.

[jasper-unofficial]

JOONG ARCHEN AYDIN: On his first steps in the entertainment industry, how to lie to idol factories that are trying to control your weight, and his impressive resilience in the face of tragedy

Joong: Actually, I moved to Thailand when I was 16. The reason I moved was I wanted to finish school quickly so I could get a job quickly. I really wanted to grow up. I wanted to live my own life because back then I thought being an adult was great. Right? So I started working as an actor. I was actually walking around Siam and then I went to a casting and got the role.

That's really how it happened! In the early days, I participated in a fashion show and accidentally got the first place.

Aou, Santa, Pond: Oooohhhhh!!!

Joong: And then I became more confident and someone just happened to see me. I was walking around Siam, I was in the middle of Siam Square, and a person just pulled me away. They were like: "Are you interested?" I was wearing really nice clothes that day. It was an Abercrombie t-shirt and Gucci jeans.

Yeah, I borrowed them from a friend.

Anyway, I remember going to the casting. Everyone had their hair and makeup done, some already had fans. We all sat down. The line was very long, there were multiple rows. This one guy just stood up, went up to his fans, and started waving. He was saying "thank you", "thank you for your encouragement" and things like that. We were all waiting to go up to the slaughter room.

No, really, they call it "the slaughter room". There was like twelve of us. They weren't saying much, they were just kind of looking at us, and then they told ten people to leave. The only two left were me and another person. They told us: "Ok, you passed". I was asked to do this one bit and then sent home. I came back for the final round, which was like an acting round, and then I finally got to play. I got to be in a series, I became an actor. It was my first drama, I might not have played very well, but I got some fans! My followers on Instagram went from 5.000 to 500.000. So I started as an actor first but then an opportunity came up. I never thought about it before, but I did like idols, I was a fan of many groups. It was BigBang first, then BTS... When I was in Türkiye, even before coming to Thailand, I already liked them. I used to record dance videos with my siblings at home and upload them to the internet.

"Fake Love" [starts singing a little]. Yes, at the time I was obsessed with it, I really loved it. Then I got an opportunity with a Chinese company. They suggested I go to China and join a TV show contest. At the time, I was weighing my options - I was doing pretty well in Thailand, should I stay here? Eventually I decided it would be better for me to move to China. I wanted to try something new and it was an opportunity to do just that. Since I was an actor, I already had events where I sang and things like that, but I never...

Pond: Danced?

Joong: Yeah, I never danced there. Well, maybe just a little. I took only a couple of dancing lessons. Everyone else is like "oh, I've been dancing since I was a kid", but I started when I joined the contest in China. I was training for about two months and it was very stressful, because I had to study both the language and how to dance. And in comparison to the friends I was training with, I was quite inexperienced because some of them had sung and danced before, they had a solid background.

Personally, I was becoming more and more handsome at the time.

Aou: Ooooohhhhh!

Joong: Before that I was still a kid.

So, two or three months passed, we actually went to China to train there. We were meant to go on for two or three more months, then filming would start and the program would air. It was quite fun, because I got a chance to go with friends from Thailand and there were also trainees from other countries - China, Korea, Japan, it was very international. I got to know a lot of people. We were training together and it was a very warm environment. Because we were practising together, living together, waking up together, eating together.

Food was bad, it was food for trainees. Broccoli and fish, stuff like that.

Interviewer: So it wasn't tasty food, it was healthy food.

Joong: Yes, everyone on the show was on a weight control diet. We had to weigh ourselves and then report back every single day. We also had to send video clips, so they could check what we're eating. They were actually looking at our food. They were asking us about our bodies, how we "build discipline".

But hey, let me tell you. There is a trick to weighing yourself. For example, like I weigh what? 77kg or something. If I touch my finger to the wall, it becomes 75kg!

Santa & Pond: Really?????

Joong: And if you press real hard, it will be 70kg.

The food they gave us was Jian Fei food, diet food, but if you think about it, it takes a lot of energy to practice as much as we did. So I ate a lot. I ate a little in secret.

Santa: Just a little?

Joong: Yes! At the time, I was thin. But yeah, everything else was going well - the environment, the friends I made, and all that. The teachers gave me a lot of encouragement because... I was good at dancing, but when I went there, people were on another level. The guys from Japan were dancing so fiercely, the guys from China were like... wow! Some of them had been dancing since they were twelve, others had just started. I realised we are not the same at all. Like let's say there is a close up, right? I wouldn't have been able to dance as fast as my friends.

I felt really bad. Because I was giving my best, but it wasn't good enough. I couldn't remember every move. And there were people who were really good there! Let's say there was a hundred people - one outstanding person received an award from the teacher. Out of a hundred people, one would get a star. Literally. The teacher would take a star and stick it on that person. Me? I never got it! It was both discouraging and tiring. I woke up early to go training at 7 a.m., came back at 11 p.m. every day. Kind of similar to Santa.

Santa: Yeah.

Joong: But still, things were going well. And then, like three days before filming:

COVID.

Aou: Oh no...

Joong: So suddenly it's all over? Honestly, when we first heard the news going around, no one believed it. Everyone was like: "What? No way! The training has been going on for months and hundreds of people are participating, from so many different countries. How could it all just collapse?" But I went back to the dorm and got on a video call with the company. They said: "Listen, kids. The plane tickets will be arranged and then you can go back in about a month. You'll have to quarantine for around 15 days". So I was just stuck in a room for 15 days. It wasn't like I went back to Thailand and was just sitting around feeling sad. I came back to sit alone in a room and cry for 15 days. And it felt like I left everything behind in Thailand and went to China, but then I returned.

It's not just that I was sad....

Pond: But what would happen now that you were back.

Joong: I wasn't part of anything because my contract stated that if I didn't have a show, I was basically independent. I came back and everything just felt so empty. I was like: What should I do? I don't know what to do! There is no way forward. Did I have any money? No. I only had around 50.000 baht left before going to China. And I spent a lot of money there too. I don't know what I was so confident about, but I spent a lot of money. For some reason I was just so sure that somehow, no matter what, I would gain something from this whole experience. It had to have been worth it, someone had to have noticed me. That was my mindset at the time. So, I came back, COVID was happening, and then my dad died.

I have no money. My dad died. COVID.

My dad died, I can't do anything. When my mom called me, I was shooting an MV with my friends. We were supposed to shoot for three days and my mom told me dad passed away on the first day.

Pond: That's awful.

Joong: I cried the first day. I was putting on makeup, crying while putting on makeup by myself because it was a self-made project.

Interviewer: So it was a self-made project with your friends?

Joong: No, with the label. But we did everything on our own, we paid for it on our own, because we wanted to give back to all the fans supporting us in Thailand somehow. We had no shows, no songs, no nothing, so we decided to make it ourselves and pay for it ourselves. Even though we didn't have much money at the time. It was tough.

Interviewer: How did you get through it? What did you tell yourself? You were disappointed, you had no money, someone you love passed away...

Joong: The thing is, I had no one to rely on anymore. If I couldn't rely on myself, there was no one else to help me. I had to survive, my siblings had to survive. So I just fought and kept going. I had to find a way, somehow. I announced that I have no label and just started over. I told my manager at the time, who was taking care of things slowly, that if they had any work, I was prepared to take it. Or maybe I could just go out there and try to find something on my own? Because I was just sitting around doing nothing. At the time, I had this person to take care of me, right? But maybe because of COVID or something like that, they couldn't find me a job. So I thought: Should I keep going like this? If they aren't giving me anything, can I try to find something on my own? Go out there and fight by myself? So I became a freelancer. But in just two weeks, I was contacted by a label, so thankfully I didn't have to stick to freelance for long.

[sunsetsover]

the more this show goes on the more i just genuinely don't get how people hate kant, or at the very least have no empathy for him and his situation.

kant is a man literally built of sacrifice. in so many ways he sacrificed his own life for babe's. over and over and over again. his grief for babe's. his education for babe's. his happiness for babe's safety and security. his social life in order to stay at home taking care of babe. relationships with partners who didn't take any interest in babe, or didn't want the baggage of a man with a dependent. whatever dreams or aspirations he had for himself fell to the wayside, at least temporarily, in favour of supporting babe.

he sacrificed his own freedom every time he stepped out of their house to go and steal a car - something that he so clearly isn't proud of at all - just so babe can get the education he deserves. the fact that he wasn't caught doesn't matter, he went to altar every single time, willing to be caught and slaughtered like a lamb if it meant babe was good.

and then he was finally caught, and he sacrificed himself in brand new ways just so he could stay out of prison. never mind the fact that kant might not have even gone to prison if it was his first offence and he played the system right, and even if he did it wouldn't have been for long. but that wasn't a chance he could ever take, because who would look after babe if he was gone, even for a few months? who would pay for school and make sure he ate? and so he stayed willingly under christ's thumb for god only knows how many years, playing whatever new versions of big brother he had to be, ingratiating himself with drug dealers and thieves and whatever other kinds of dangerous people christ wanted him to, getting himself onto all these people's bad side knowing it would only take one to figure him out and turn on him and put him in hospital, or worse. but that was a sacrifice he willingly made the moment he pulled his grieving baby brother into his arms and said 'i'll take care of him'.

and here it is, the ultimate sacrifice: christ tells kant to jump into the lion's den, promising that if he makes it out alive, he can have his freedom back. and what choice does kant have? if he doesn't they'll be back to square one after he worked so fucking hard for his and babe's stability. and babe's old enough now that kant can start having a life again, and kant's business is doing well, and things are finally good for them, but now this. and if he doesn't do this it will have all been for nothing. so he does it. essentially puts his life up as collateral once again the moment he walks through the door of heart burger and tries to seduce an assassin, knowing it could be taken from him in an instant if he missteps.

except it doesn't go as he planned, because bison is beautiful and bison is bright, and he's sweet and he's dangerous and kant can't help but fall for him, no matter how he tries to dig his heels in and think about the end goal: his freedom, his brother's safety. he says as much to style - style says bison has you wrapped around his finger and kant says i know. that's why i'm trying to end things quickly. and in that moment bison becomes yet another sacrifice kant makes for babe. or at least he's trying so hard to make him one. because what kant wants, he cannot have. not when there's babe to think about.

but it's so unfair. and it's so sad. like yes we all know it's unfair for bison and it'll be such a betrayal, but what about kant? what about his heart in all of this? what about him giggling at his phone screen like a teenager texting bison, only for the grin to fall the moment he remembers who he is and what he must do? what about him acknowledging that he's working so hard to hold bison at arms length but he's failing and that's why he needs this over asap? what about him having to be on all the fucking time, spewing out lie after lie after lie, and what that does that him? what about him being so fucking scared every time a gun is shoved in his face that he's fucked up in a way he can't talk himself out of and that babe will be left all alone in the world?

what about kant having this beautiful boy in his bed, who's kissing him in places he's never been kissed before and telling him that he loves his fuck ups, and that he won't come over because doesn't want to be a bad influence on babe, and that him stealing cars was not only not a shameful thing, but an admirable thing to do for someone you love? this beautiful boy who notices his brother is hurting and follows him to defend him from the people that hurt him without question? this beautiful boy who has asked for nothing but the truth, the one thing kant can never give him? this beautiful boy that kant is falling for, and he knows he is, and he knows he can't, because that's not allowed, because bison isn't his, he doesn't get to keep him. he's just another sacrifice in a long line of sacrifices kant has made for love, and yet this one... this one has claws. this one will leave scars that he'll get to keep longer than he will ever get to keep bison.

kant has been living with an asterisk next to his name from the moment his parents died. from then on, at every opportunity kant sacrificed who he might've been for who babe still could be. he sacrificed kant the person for kant the big brother, and whatever that included. kant the protector. kant the provider. kant the thief, the scammer, the informant. kant the manipulator. never just kant, not anymore.

but then there's bison. beautiful, observant bison who always seems to be asking who are you whenever he looks at kant. and kant doesn't know what to tell him, he really doesn't, bc whatever mask he tries to put on, whatever facade he tries to hide behind, bison just sees right through him. and although kant does everything possible to avoid telling him anything, bison always seems to get his answers anyway, even when kant doesn't say a word. like bison is collecting every splintered version of kant and putting them together to make a whole person again. just kant. no asterisk.

and kant doesn't know what to do, because bison is beautiful and he's in his bed and he has kant wrapped around his finger despite his best efforts. and yet he knows it's only of time before he has to peel himself away and never look back. let bison sit in the prison cell that was always supposed to be kant's. and despite how he might try to convince himself otherwise, he knows the guilt will eat him alive. he knows he'll feel the place where he tore them apart just as acutely as bison will. he'll have to splinter apart into a thousand versions of himself all over again. kant with an asterisk. and he'll have no one to blame but himself.

and isn't that just so fucking unfair?

[mcflymemes]

AS SAID BY WYNNE - PARTY BANTER *  assorted banter from dragon age: origins

you must know that murder is wrong, i assume.

i feel guilty for having ever spoken to you.

i am going to walk away now. calmly. coolly. this is to save you the pain of having your brain forcibly removed through your ears.

please get to the point.

cherish this. it may not last.

you were watching her. with great interest, i might add. in fact, i believe you were enraptured.

wait... why do you have that look on your face?

what are you thinking about now? no. i don't want to know. i feel dirty. do not speak to me.

i have a name. we all do.

you do speak your mind, do you?

it was a serious question.

must you be such a child? are you incapable of a single, serious conversation?

have you changed your mind yet?

enough. i am ending this conversation.

i am going to walk away now.

we are not having this conversation.

perhaps you could save a life, instead? one for every life you have taken.

it is not a game. you either know right from wrong or you do not.

i once had my portrait painted by an artist in the square here. it wasn't very good.

now that you're in an intimate relationship, you should learn about where babies really come from.

i like you, [name]. you deserve to be happy.

you go ahead and rant, and i'll just not my head if you like.

what exactly are you implying?

be careful who you flirt with.

it would not be the first time i woke to a younger man in my bed.

you have a barbed tongue, [name]. tell me, why do you speak to others this way?

there are good reasons for the world to fear mages, even despite our best intentions.

touch nothing! i don't think they clean the surfaces in this place very often.

everyone's gone... or dead. i fear the worst.

this cannot continue.

these people don't deserve what has happened to them.

i thought it was a legend.

i could not have asked for a greater honor than to be here. i will never forget this feeling.

many enter this forest and are never seen again. let's hope we don't join them.

there's something about this place that makes my skin crawl.

i didn't expect it to be this crowded.

what hideous habits you've picked up.

can't you mend your own clothes? why do i have to do it?

stop fussing with it. you'll make it worse.

[name], if you open that wound up, i'm not going to heal it again. you can just treat it yourself.

if you decide to slaughter me out of hand, i'm sure you would at least inform me first, no?

what makes you think i have any children at all?

i suppose i'll take that as a comment on my demeanor and not my age.

why thank you, [name]. i am quite touched. i like you, too.

those who do not heed to lessons of history are doomed to repeat them.

you are dangerous, [name]. dangerous, cunning, and thoroughly deceitful.

when the end comes, i will go gladly to my rest, proud of my achievements. while you... you will see how empty your life was. you will realize that because you never had love for others, you never received love in return. and you will die alone and unmourned.

i suppose i should be flattered.

very well, let's have a taste.

what are you... never mind, i don't want to know.

i never looked at you. definitely not in that way.

i bought you a towel, a bar of soap, and a razor while we were at the market.

i am not interested in your innuendos, your propositions, or your bodily emanations.

no! keep it to yourself! i'm serious!

i do what i do because i enjoy it, because i enjoy teaching others, helping them.

i do not seek recognition for my works.

i heard you were quite happy there.

i think you're missing the point.

it is precisely this kind of talk that made them wary of you. opinions that differ from your own are always threatening.

it is sometimes so hard to believe that you have been through so much at such a young age.

i do hate being compared to wine. or cheese.

thank you, i was wondering where it got to.

do not worry for me, or for yourself. death will take us when it wills and 'til then, we shall live. truly live.

it's much warmer where you're from, isn't it? don't you feel cold?

i didn't mean to stare.

i can't even begin to tell you whats wrong with that idea.

you can stop flinching. i'm not going to harm you.

[jumpywhumpywriter]

Traitors & Lovers (Hero & Villain) part 28

Warnings: threat letter, not much else. Writing with blood briefly described

Villain's face darkened. “Show me,” she growled.

Hero pulled his phone from his pocket, tapping a few buttons and handing it to Villain. On the screen was a snapshot of a news report showing a lengthy letter hand-written in ink -- red ink that looked suspiciously like fresh blood. And it was addressed directly to Hero.

Hero,

I dropped this little surprise outside of the press office since I don't know your address yet. Figured the news could get my message across just fine.

I expected you to come find me after I left Villain's dead body for you to find. But you haven't chased me yet, so it's clear I need to raise the stakes since killing your lover wasn't enough to draw you to me. I have hostages -- and am writing this letter with one's blood so you'll take my threat seriously.

In three days. The town square. 10am. Meet me there and we can fight this out -- one on one, and to the death. If you dare bring any of your fellow heroes from Agency as backup, I will not show up to the location, and every single hostage will die, before I string their parts around the city. There's nineteen of them in total -- that's a lot of blood to have on your hands, so I highly recommend you do as I say.

You cannot outsmart me. Only a fight will end the slaughter. Evacuate the square in preparation to avoid extra casualties. And remember, bring NO OTHER HEROES.

See you there, Hero.

With all the hate in the world, Supervillain.

Villain blinked, shocked. "He's really going for it, isn't he?" She breathed in disbelief. "He hates you enough to call you out in broad daylight and in the most public place in the whole city -- he's confident. And that's worrying. It means he's sure his plan will work -- and he's counting on winning."

She thought about it carefully, analyzing what she'd read. The odds weren't looking great -- Hero could either accept the threat and meet Supervillain head-on in battle like the enemy wanted, or break the rules and bring additional heroes anyway -- sacrificing nineteen hostages just to take down Supervillain.

"Do you have a plan?" She asked gruffly.

"We go in, fight with everything we've got, and pray we don't die," Hero answered sarcastically. "I'm at a loss. Any ideas floating around in that brilliant mind of yours?"

Villain couldn't help the pickle of pride at the simple praise.

"One," she said. "I will be your wild card -- from the letter it appears Supervillain doesn't know I survived what he did to me. Imagine his shock when I show up with you to fight him. That alone could throw him off his game and make him slip up, giving us the advantage. Give me some decent weapons and I am a formidable opponent."

"Supervillain made it very clear I am not to bring anyone with me, though," Hero pointed out with a frown. "Or the hostages die."

"He said not to bring any heroes," Villain hissed with a wolfish grin. "But I am no hero. And I know Supervillain well from my time being an ally of his -- he will respect the rules, regardless of loopholes that may be found. He will not eliminate the hostages if I show up with you. You'll have to trust me on that."

Hero nodded without a flicker of hesitation. "I do. I trust your judgement."

Villain's grin widened. "Then let's prepare for battle."

⏪️ Back Next ⏩️

Masterlist

@scoundrelwithboba @lumpofsand @isikedmyself878 @iamheretohurt @fleur-a-whump

@ay5ksal @otterfrost @sausages-things @togzy

@whump-till-ya-jump @cravesunconditionallove @whumpwritinglover222 @written-in-the-stars135 @neverthelass

@starz8nk @redwinesupanover @whumpisgoodwhumpislife @theforeverdyingperson @whatwhump

@writing-with-olive @and-we-shake-the-iron-hand @art3m1zz @enigmawriteswhump @basica11ywhumped

[tobiasdrake]

Conversations with Myself: Neva

Hang on. If Neva not only controlled the Tamagamis but could super-charge them into ultra forms and was doing all this as a long con to liberate Daimakai, then... why bother? Neva is unambiguously the most powerful thing in Daimakai, bar none.

"Except the Third Eye."

Right, except for that. But that was famously lost to history at the start of Dabra's regime. There's a huge window of time where he and Super Tamagami 1 could have walked right up to the capitol and pulled Dabra or Gomah's head straight off their shoulders, and absolutely nothing would have stopped them.

"I think their army of foot soldiers would have stopped them. The Third World arc suggests that Gomah's forces are collectively strong enough to be a serious threat even to people who can beat the Tamagamis."

But if that's the case, why didn't Dabra or Gomah ever just send the foot soldiers to overpower the Tamagamis and take the Dragon Balls.

"You're not supposed to do that. They say that when Goku's fighting Tamagami 3."

Sure, you're not. But what's going to stop them if they do? If the Gendarmerie or whatever are powerful enough to overwhelm and slaughter the Tamagamis with ease then who cares about following the Tamagamis' rules?

"The Tamagamis would probably activate their super form or something as a failsafe and obliterate them if they broke the rules. Or something. I don't know."

But then we're back to 'What's stopping Neva from just putting an end to these tyrants himself, if he cares so much about it?' One way or another, one side of this should have wasted the other a long time ago. It's weird that they've just sat there giving each other bitter side-eyes for like millennia.

"Well, you know, it's the principle of the thing."

What?

"It's not about what Neva can do. It's about what Neva would do. Neva says himself that Namekian powers shouldn't be used for conflict. It's a funny moment where Piccolo has to feel shame for being a Warrior-Type Namekian, something whose very existence is a violation of Namekian values."

Oh, yeah, he did say that.

"Yep."

Didn't he then commit Tamagami 1 to the battle against Gomah?

"...maybe sending the Tamagamis to fight someone outside the limits of the Dragon Ball challenge doesn't count as using his powers for conflict, as long as he doesn't super-charge them?"

Did he not super-charge Tamagami 1 in that fight? I thought he did.

"...I don't think so? I think he just winked at it for a weirdly long time. I do not remember."

That's okay, it doesn't matter anyway. He wouldn't need to super-charge the Tamagamis to assassinate Dabra or Gomah with them anyway. Nobody knows that's a thing he can do, and nonetheless we are told that even Dabra is no match for the Tamagamis.

"So if it is fine to make the Tamagamis vanquish his enemies so long as he doesn't super-charge them...."

Then we're back to square one. And if he did super-charge Tamagami 1 then I guess he was just lying when he said he's against using Namekian powers for conflict. I don't know what this man's principles actually are. He plays a lot of things close to chest and only reveals information on a need-to-know basis but he also has no ulterior motives and is being entirely sincere with the protagonists.

"Did we get Mystery Boxed by Neva?"

Kind of, yeah. Neva is not a mystery; He just likes being mysterious in order to make it seem like there's more going on with this character then there actually is.

"Hrm."

I just don't know how you square this circle of Neva being the unparalleled supreme power in Daimakai but also a powerless manipulator having to play 4-D chess to recruit outside aid. I don't even think he's a Mystery Box per se? I think he might just be a plot device in the shape of a character, and we all just... expected something more to come out of it.

[survivalist-anon]

Log 1: The first encounter

It's been a year since my falling out with my boyfriend. What was supposed to be a trip back home to collect my gear has now ended up becoming a whole move back to Pine Hills....talk about going back to square one...

It's another lovely, foggy day in Chehalem Ridge. Hoping to bag at least deer for the next few weeks of meat rations. Honestly, I'm starting to become grateful for grandpa incessively bringing on his hunting trips, this move has done an absolute number on my bank account. Beef here is starting to get expensive ever since that garbage Wonder Mart bought out the local stuff. Well, times have changed. I've always liked the taste of venison anyway.

Things here have been even more worrisome over the past few years too.....farm animals being slaughtered left, right and center....those clowns from the National Guard Tillamook base have been hounding the town for answers on some sightings of "big, metal men". An absolute mess.

What has been giving me a biting gnash on the back of my mind is how poor ol' Grandpa passed away. Well....the fact he died on a hunting trip isn't what's surprising, it's the fact he was killed so brutally that even his buddies believed that no way a bear could have done it. Robbie (our local mortician, ex-butcher and currently the one braincell helping at City Hall) said that "no bear could just tear up a man like a chainsaw can"....the closed casket funeral was already a disaster.

Call it depression, call it suicide, but I going to the very place he died ...I need to know what happened. Yeah, naive on top of the cliche is definitely going to be on my tombstone. It's been 4 months since his death, will I find anything? Fuck no of course not...but hey, it's productive.

As I'm looking at the river bank, I'm not surprised to see what a shoty job local PD did in clean up the place....there's pieces of his old camouflage jacket. He didn't believe in the modern stuff, so he just used an old jacket he had back in when we enlisted in Vietnam. I glanced over the scene, trying to pieces together what the hell could it have been. Walking around, I'm not too surprised how much of a waste of time this was....at least the scenery was perfect...

At least, it was.

I suddenly realized that the birds has just stopped singing, all I can hear was the sound of my heartbeat. But there was something new, a heavy smell of metal and industrial chemicals? I know theres an illegal logging company around here but no one back at City Hall has been able to fight them for years. That's when I heard movement.

This is when I begin to regret not investing in a hunting rifle, but bow and arrow to the eyeball works just fine. I draw and scan for whatever that smell was coming from ....all I saw something big and metal....but for something to be that big....it was no man.

It was in the thicket of the treeline, glowing...angry eyes, it had spikes just absolutely everywhere, it's dark black body was interrupted but glimmers of bronze or gold....at it was coming right at me.

I couldn't move, I just stood there trying not to shake the fucking arrows out of my quiver, I don't even know what I was even doing from that point on.

It just stomped twords me, it knew I wouldn't be able to do much to it.

But like hell I wouldn't.

I locked up, and shot right it it's eye. Going straight in! It's head leaned back at the arrow sunk through......then...it chuckled....that sickening laughter you give when you know you're about to win...it looked straight back at me, still chuckling....now with my arrow sticking out it's face like a complete moron.

Looks like I'm going to get see grandpa. Hell I would probably get to tell him I found his buddy too.

"... aren't you... just adorable........thank you for your.... little gift", snapping the arrow yet keeping its other half in his eyesocket...."a most cherished gift.....from a weaklings like girl like you...just...like that old bastard....". He was now 10 feet away from me.

He pointed to a set of faded dents in his chest, three shots that only chipped the paint.

Grandpa's last shots

"....at least he went out fighting."...I stepped back and fucking tripped on the rocky bank...great I made it earlier for him.

Suddenly, he stopped in his tracks, glanced at the trail behind me and growled.

That's when I heard the familiar click of a trigger pull, than the loudest gun shot I have ever felt! Closing my eyes, it was like a small rocket had been set off just feet away from me.

All I could hear was a loud ringing in my ears, I felt something warm and wet cover half of my body. Shaking, I slowly opened my eyes, and saw gore.... just where.... sprayed on me, on the rocks .....I looked up....half of that monster was there.....I couldn't take it anymore....and i blacked out.

I woke up in the hospital back home, Nurse Amila (town doctor at this point since the last guy quit) said I was found soaking wet near a sheep farm several miles off the course of Chelhalem Ridge. I told her everything I could remember but of course she told me to just rest so I can collect myself a little later. I was in shock, but I had to tell her. The look on her is what worried me, she.... wasn't surprised.

She did tell me that who ever it was that brought me to safe place, left me in good hands .....a gift?

Nurse Amila points to the hospital nightstand, it didn't look like any of the native tribal artifacts I've studied for....it looked.... Nordic? It was a huge candid tooth.

"Looks like a bear tooth, guess someone finally sees you're worth a look, right Lorey?", she chuckled.

"....I....think it's a wolf tooth", I feel like I'm going insane, first the absolute horror movie scene I've just experienced and now...possibly .... giant unextinct......dire wolves?

What the shit is going on......

End of log 1.

@kit-williams

[fictionadventurer]

The more I think about it, the more upset I get that people kept mentioning Vanity Fair as a classic Victorian novel and making it sound all depressing, and not a single person mentioned it contained passages like this:

All which details, I have no doubt, Jones, who reads this book at his Club, ​will pronounce to be excessively foolish, trivial, twaddling, and ultra-sentimental. Yes; I can see Jones at this minute (rather flushed with his joint of mutton and half-pint of wine), taking out his pencil and scoring under the words "foolish, twaddling," &c., and adding to them his own remark of "quite true." Well, he is a lofty man of genius, and admires the great and heroic in life and novels; and so had better take warning and go elsewhere.

Or this:

I know that the tune I am piping is a very mild one, (although there are some terrific chapters coming presently) and must beg the good-natured reader to remember, that we are only discoursing at present, about a stock-broker's family in Russell-square, who are taking walks, or luncheon, or dinner, or talking and making love as people do in common life, and without a single passionate and wonderful incident to mark the progress of their loves. The argument stands thus—Osborne in love with Amelia, has asked an old friend to dinner and to Vauxhall—Jos Sedley is in love with Rebecca. Will he marry her? That is the great subject now in hand. We might have treated this subject in the genteel, or in the romantic, or in the facetious manner. Suppose we had laid the scene in Grosvenor-square, with the very same adventures—would not some people have listened? Suppose we had shown how Lord Joseph Sedley fell in love, and the Marquis of Osborne became attached to Lady Amelia, with the full consent of the Duke, her noble father: or instead of the supremely genteel, suppose we had resorted to the entirely low, and described what was going on in Mr. Sedley's kitchen;—how black Sambo was in love with the cook, (as indeed he was), and how he fought a battle with the coachman in her behalf; how the knife-boy was caught stealing a cold shoulder of mutton, and Miss Sedley's new femme de chambre refused to go to bed without a wax candle; such incidents might be made to provoke much delightful laughter, and be supposed to represent scenes of "life." Or if, on the contrary, we had taken a fancy for the terrible, and made the lover of the new femme de chambre a professional burglar, who bursts into the house with his band, slaughters black Sambo at the feet of his master, and carries off Amelia in her night-dress, not to be let loose again till the third volume, we should easily have constructed a tale of thrilling interest, through the fiery chapters of which the reader should hurry, panting. Fancy this chapter having been headed THE NIGHT ATTACK. The night was dark and wild—the clouds black—black—ink-black. The wild wind tore the chimney-pots from the roofs of the old houses and sent the tiles whirling and crashing through the desolate streets. No soul braved that tempest—the watchmen shrank into their boxes, whither the searching rain followed them—where the crashing thunderbolt fell and destroyed them—one had so been slain opposite the Foundling.

And then he proceeds to write in the style of three alternate genres for half the chapter before getting back to the story!

There is zero fourth wall here! So much meta-commentary! So much sarcasm! Not since Jules Verne have I encountered an author who was so obviously having this much fun writing his story.

And no one had the decency to tell me that it might be fun to read!

[kawaii-queen-kaiju]

I've been possessed. 3000 words for @screamintoad and I's silly self-indulgent, self-insert AOT AU. Honestly, it's a rewrite at this point, though let's not say it is quite yet, lest I lose my steam.

SPOILERS FOR AOT

~~~

Mira chewed her nail nervously, peeking out the window of the building they were stationed in. It was jarring enough being back in Liberio after 9 years, but being back and about to launch an attack on her hometown… Long gone were her days of vomiting at the thought of killing other humans, but she’d still forgone food that day, just in case.

“Hey, we’ll be okay.”

She turned towards her boyfriend - fiancé really, if you counted his ‘let’s elope!’ on the ship to Marley as a proposal, and her subsequent ‘when we aren’t fighting for the lives of our people’ as acceptance. Connie had a hand on her shoulder and was doing his best to give her a reassuring smile. It looked more like a grimace, though. You could only be so comforting when you were about to slaughter the former comrades of - and no doubt induce civilian casualties in - your fiancée’s hometown. She appreciated the effort though. She put her own hand on top of his, looking back out the window towards the rows of hopeful people, happy after the once in a lifetime day they’d had.

‘Wait for my signal.’ The fuck did that mean, Jaeger? What signal? No doubt something big… and very dangerous, knowing him. She didn’t want to be here. The thought of the bombs she’d helped plant at the port, whatever Eren’s about to do… all of it hurt.

She took a deep breath. She didn’t have any claims to morality, not after what she’d helped do. At least now she was fighting for a worthy cause… even if the people she grew up with would suffer for it before it got better. Was any cause worth it if people died for it-? Boom. A large explosion rattled the window frame and her bones, a large roar tearing through the city. A very familiar roar. In the plaza outside, the stage and row of townhouses behind Willy Tybur had been decimated, the debris landing everywhere… including on the people watching the show raptly. Her hand went to her mouth, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes as she watched Eren eat the head of the Tybur family.

Connie’s hand, still on her shoulder, squeezed tightly. “I guess that’s the signal.”

Right. Now it was time to go slaughter people who just fought to defend their country, their livelihoods… both of which were built on the blood and suffering of innocent people.

She gripped the handles of her ODM gear, hers unequipped with Thunder Spears unlike the rest. No point in wasting precious weapons on gear that would be damaged if and when she transformed. She was hoping she wouldn’t have to. As not just a Marleyan traitor but a former Warrior, she’d be placed on the priority list. It would make things even more difficult.

Leaping out the window with the rest of her team, she zeroed in on the rooftops and the soldiers stationed there. She shot towards them, swords flashing as she sliced the napes of their necks… except these were humans, not Titans. Their heads hit the rooftop with a squelch as she kept moving, a lone sob ripping from her throat.

She’d always excelled with the ODM gear, able to mimic the quick, erratic movement of her Titan easily. It didn’t matter how fast you could fire a gun if you never got a lock in the first place.

She flew from rooftop to rooftop, covering those setting up the lights for the airship and anyone else who needed help. The screams of the men and women she killed rang in her ears, streams of tears running down her face, but she didn’t stop.

Another loud bellow from Eren ripped through her misery, drawing her attention back to the main square. Eren was still there, now fighting the Warhammer. “Atti…” She breathed, abruptly changing course. No doubt, the soldiers would take advantage of his distraction. Angry as she was at him for how much damage he’d done to her hometown and the people in it, she couldn’t let him get captured. As reckless as Eren was with the power of both the Founding and Attack Titan, their situation would be infinitely worse if Marley got their hands on them.

Spotting Pieck on one of the buildings just in time, she dropped, avoiding the spray of bullets those manning Pieck’s gear sent at her. Shit.

The explosion of a Thunder Spear rolled over her; some Scouts were attacking Pieck. She had cover to get to Eren and Atti. She moved as fast as she could, pushing her gear to the limit, desperate to get to the two Titans in time.

As she got closer to them, her stomach dropped. Atti… was on defense, and Eren was fighting to kill, aiming for his nape. Sure, Atti wouldn’t be in the nape with the Warhammer’s abilities, but Eren didn’t know that.

The already burning hot rage in her chest she felt towards Eren managed to get even hotter. She shot towards him, noticing Mikasa on his shoulder, shouting at him. How fucked would everyone be if Mikasa wasn’t around to put what little restraint he had on him?

Mira landed on his shoulder, yanking his hair roughly and ignoring the clump that came out as well as his surprised grunt. “What in the fuck, Jaeger?! What did I tell you?! ATTI IS ON OUR SIDE, WHY ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL HIM?!” She kicked his jaw harshly and it popped, his giant mouth going slack a little.

“Fuck you!” She yelled back at him as she leapt for Atti’s shoulder, still furious, but thanking everything Eren had the sense to stop trying to kill her best friend - sorry, Sasha.

“Where are you?” She asked Atti, looking down at his hands. The Warhammer couldn't speak, but he used fingerspelling to communicate. Ingenious, in her mind. As he spelled out, ‘n-a-p-e’, her mouth fell open. “Dude, what the hell?!”

She scoffed incredulously, glancing around to gauge how the rest of the Paradisians were doing. She didn’t see Zeke towering over everything anymore, which meant Captain Levi had succeeded - of course. Pieck’s equipment was sitting over the steaming remains of her Titan. Mira couldn’t help but hope the woman had chosen to retreat instead of what the alternative suggests. Even if she could transform again and again, the Cart was useless in battle without her gear and information to relay. The gunfire hadn’t died down, but she could see the lights they’d planted lighting a path for the airship they’d commandeered, and all the Marleyan soldiers in their direct vicinity had been taken care of. Over the ringing in her ears, she thought she heard children screaming for help. She tuned it out best she could.

Eren was still tensed up and glaring Atti down, but thankfully, wasn’t making any moves to attack. Did they really do it? Were they in the clear? Right as she opened her mouth to suggest they get going, another familiar Titan roar damn near burst her eardrums. Fuck. How did she not account for Reiner? They wouldn’t have Bertholdt transform right in the middle of the city - yet. She didn’t put it past them should the situation get dire enough, but how did she forget about Reiner, the man she’s butt heads with for over a decade?

The Armored Titan was staggering, and his hardening was thin or even missing in some places, but he charged Eren anyway.

“Shit.” She hissed, grabbing onto the lip of the Warhammer’s ‘helmet’. Mikasa had jumped away from Eren’s shoulder, and Mira spotted her on a rooftop, shouting Eren’s name.

“We have to help him Eren.” She muttered. She could feel the side eye Atti was giving her. “Yes, he’s an asshole, and I had no idea he was planning this, but we can’t let Marley get him. I know how you feel about killing, let alone someone we know but… this isn’t the time for morals.” She looked Atti’s Titan in the eye, attempting to look intimidating though probably failing. Her face was no doubt blotchy and there’d been tears trickling down her face this whole time, only having gotten more intense with her worry for her friend. “Please.”

She felt him tense under her at the word ‘kill’. “Or, fuck, let’s just beat the shit out of him like we used to. Get him out of the way long enough to get out of here.” Atti didn’t respond, instead hefting his hammer. Mira felt a sick sense of relief and guilt run through her. ‘Sorry, Reiner, but we can’t let Marley win.’

A series of spikes shot from the ground at Reiner, sticking his legs and torso in place. Her stomach turned as Atti swung his hammer back preparing to strike… and threw it at Reiner. It hit him in the face, and he bellowed in shock.

“What the- oof!” Mira grunted as she felt a large hand wrap around her. Atti picked her up off his shoulder, her arms pinned by her sides. “Atti! What are you-?!” He brought his other hand up, fingerspelling, ‘g-o’.

“What? What, no! I’m not gonna leave you!” She shouted, squirming desperately to escape his grasp. She could transform, but she didn’t want to do that if she could help it. She gasped as Atti raised her, looking around. He seemed to spot what he was looking for, as he drew his arm back, just like he had with his hammer… then threw her.

“ATTI, WHAT THE FUUUCK!” She yelled as she twisted around to orient herself, clutching the handles of her ODM gear. Before she had a chance to stick her landing and swing back to Atti to give both him and Reiner a thorough ass-kicking, she felt herself be grabbed again, this time by someone human-sized. “Shit!” Connie yelped, as he caught her, swaying slightly on his own ODM setup then landing on a rooftop nearby. “Mira! Are you alright?!” “I’m fine, but they’re not, we need to go back!” She wrestled herself out of his grasp turning to race back towards the Titan brawl. Connie grasped her wrist though, a grim look on his face. “We can’t, look.” He pointed up.

The airship was sailing towards them. “What-?” “We have to go, and we have to trust that Eren and Mikasa can do what they need to.” He said gently, the hand he had pointed with coming up to cup her cheek.

She pulled back, the sensation of being touched overwhelming at the moment. “No, I can’t go, Atti-!” She didn’t get to finish her sentence, as Connie grimaced and grabbed for her, pinning her arms to her side with one of his easily, thanks to his larger frame. She was stronger than Connie physically, and would be able to break his hold in a moment if she wanted, but before she could process what happened, they were shooting through the air, Connie’s gear whirring as he brought them up to the airship. He slung her over the side, into the ship, before hoisting himself up. “Atti, no!”

Before she could do anything, a large piece of Warhammer hardening shot up, covering the door. “GODDAMN IT, FUCK YOU!” Mira shouted. It wasn’t piercing the ship, but it was blocking her way out. By the time the airship passed it, what if it was too late-? In the sliver of space between the body of the airship and the Titan manifestation, Mikasa pulled herself up, Eren quickly following. Armin rushed forward to help, but she ignored them. She knelt next to Armin, paying no attention to the bastard whose fault all of this is. “Atti! Atticus, you dumbass! How dare you! Get your ass back here!” She panted as she looked down, there was just enough space for her to slip down. Sure, she’d be in freefall, but her Titan had wings. She hadn’t wanted to transform, but if absolutely need be, to save Atti- Atti. The Warhammer, who made this giant convenient spire that ODM gear could use as an anchor like the Paradis walls. Before anyone could stop her, she dropped through the gap. She heard Connie shout after her, but she didn’t register what he said, using Atti’s creation to swing back down towards where he was still fighting Reiner. As she rounded it, she saw Reiner, speared on dozens of Warhammer spikes, as Atti sat back, his Titan’s chest heaving. He was no doubt utterly spent. Reiner didn’t seem to be fighting back anymore, his head hung and wounds steaming. He wasn’t leaving his Titan either. Whatever. She ignored him, focusing on Atti. And maybe, if she anchored her wires in his forehead, it was out of petty spite. His eyes widened, but she didn’t give him time to react, circling around to his nape. In a second, she had it sliced open and was pulling him out. He muttered in protest, but she snapped at him. “Fuck you, you’ve lost your speaking privileges until further notice.” Atti opened his mouth to argue, but she simply secured her hold around his midsection and navigated back up the large spike in erratic zigzags to dodge the bullets the Marleyan soldiers fired as a last-ditch effort. The airship had passed the spire, but not far enough that the ODM gear couldn’t easily breach the gap.

Connie helped pull Atti inside, then her, crushing her to his chest. “Dammit, you scared the shit out of me. Please don’t ever do that again.” He muttered into her hair, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Me?! Tell that to him!” Mira pulled back, though didn’t leave his embrace entirely. “You wanna call any of us suicidal, when you do that?! Dumbass!”

“So I get to speak now?” He raised an eyebrow, his arms crossed. “Oh, haha, smartass.” She stood up, her hands on her hips. Everyone was staring, but she didn’t care. “Why did you save me?” Mira gaped at him. “Why the fuck wouldn’t I?! Are you kidding me?! You’re my best friend, my brother, I’m not gonna leave you behind when you just shish-kebobbed Reiner in the middle of Liberio!” “You… what?!” Everyone whipped around, only just noticing the child with a shotgun standing at the back of the cabin. A gun that was aimed right at the middle of the group. 

“Gabi?” Atti seemed to recognize the girl, but Mira was more focused on the trembling grip she had on the gun and the fact that it was pointed right at Sasha. She rushed forward, and Gabi startled, pulling the trigger. Mira grunted and swore as the shot hit her square in the gut, but she’d be fine. She jolted forward and wrenched the gun from the girl’s grasp, before sitting down hard.

There were tears in Gabi’s eyes, and the boy just next to and behind her gasped, a horrified expression on his face. “What the fuck, you little brat! Shit, that hurts.” Mira hissed, knocking the gun away. A few Scouts rushed forward to tie the children up, their movements harsher than she’d like. “Careful!” She barked, pressing a hand to her midsection. “They’re kids.” Sasha and Connie came forward on either side of her, fussing over her injury. She ignored them, looking up at Atti, who had approached the now tied up brats, a stern glare on his face. “Oi, Atti-” She paused to hiss a curse as Sasha dug the bullet out of her wound. “-you know this brat?” Looking them over, her gaze snagged on the yellow armbands the two wore, moments before Atti explained. “Gabi Braun and Falco Grice. Reiner’s cousin and Colt’s brother. They’re Warrior candidates.” If her stomach hadn’t already been turning because of the events of that evening, it would’ve been now. “Shit… were we that young too?” Because they were. They were so young, so small. They shouldn’t know what it was like to shoot a gun, carry the fate of a war on their shoulders. Atti hummed, glancing over at her. Her wound was steaming, and it seemed that was enough for the kids to put two and two together. “You’re…” The boy started, and Mira nodded. “Mira Galliard. Inheritor of the Jaw Titan, in the flesh.”

Falco gaped, and Mira glanced at the girl. “I met you.” She said, jutting her jaw out at the younger girl. “You were just a baby. Even smaller than you are now.”

Gabi started, her mouth opening and closing like a fish. “You-you… you’re a traitor? Reiner said you died on Paradis, but-but… you’re on their side?”

It was Mira’s turn to be stunned into fish resemblance. “He said I…? Huh.” She shook her head. “You can’t betray a country that never had your loyalty in the first place, kid.”

“But you’re a Warrior-!”

“No.” Mira shut Gabi’s statement down with a solemn expression. “I was a child, who wanted my family to be safe. I wanted them to live as human beings instead of less than worms.”

Connie squeezed her hand slightly, rubbing circles over her wrist with his thumb. Mira sighed, giving his hand a soft squeeze back.

“We’re not going into the ethics of war right now.” Atti cut in. “It is what it is, and we’ve got more important things to do. You two just… behave.” He directed at the kids, before squatting in front of Mira. “You good?”

She shrugged. “The bleeding stopped. I’ll live. It doesn’t matter, I’ve got some things I want to say to the fucker that instigated this fuckery."

He laughed bitterly, offering her a hand and hoisting her up. “Damn straight. Bitch tried to eat me, he ain’t getting out of anything.”

[mysticstarlightduck]

OC Questionnaire Tag

I was tagged by @illarian-rambling for this one (here)! Thanks for the tag!!!

Rules: Answer the questions provided with your own OCs perspective. Then create new questions for those tagged to continue the game.

My Questions

What's the best thing you've ever eaten?

What's the worst injury you've ever had?

Do you wish you looked different?

Your Questions

What's your worst fear?

What's your love language?

When are you the happiest?

I'll go with Eidan Delythen (from Of Starlight and Beasts) for this, because I love this character so, so much!!!!!! (:

(TW for mentioned amputation (loss of an arm) for the worst injury question though.)

....

What's the best thing you've ever eaten?

(Eidan )- "The kingdom where I grew up used to have these great and vibrant Spring Festivals every year, it was a very big deal. I remember there were these great banquets in the town's square, along with colorful stalls filled with so many different kinds of candied delicacies one could loose count.

I'd rarely had the opportunity to partake in it. It was a party for the locals, and the wealthy citizens of Monbern - not indebted orphans like we were. Or that was what most people seemed to say. So, for the longest time, I had just watched it from afar.

But there was one year in particular where my cousin had managed to truly impress a local vassal with his sword making skills, and got a lot of coin for it. So we used our lucky break and snuck out into the festival, and he bought us this beautiful light blue pie from one of the vendors. I can still remember how amazing that sweet was - it had just the richest chocolate taste, wrapped in an almost flowery dough. I think that, even to this day, that pie is the best thing I've ever eaten."

2. What is the worst injury you've ever had?

(Eidan) - "When Monbern's duchy fell, the city was seized by, well... the Traitor's forces. It was chaos - utter, absolute chaos and bloodshed the likes of which I wish to never see again. We knew that, when the dust settled, we'd be the next on the chopping block, and there was no doubt about it. But things didn't go as planned during our very hapharzard escape, and to make a long story short, I lost one of my arms to the blade of one of the soldiers. My memory is, unsurprisingly, fuzzy after that, but I can almost still feel the sheer, blinding white pain as someone dragged me away from the slaughter, before I passed out."

3. Do you wish you looked different?

(Eidan) - "No, not really. I'm very happy and satisfied with how I look today."

Tagging (gently) - @thepeculiarbird, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @little-peril-stories, @littleladymab, @clairelsonao3, @oh-no-another-idea, @conkers-thecosy, @crowandmoonwriting, @starlit-hopes-and-dreams, @mk-writes-stuff, @anyablackwood, @rickie-the-storyteller @lassiesandiego,@steh-lar-uh-nuhs, @trancetales, @doublegoblin, @gummybugg, @winterandwords @forthesanityofstorytellers and OPEN TAG

[countlessrealities]

NEW YEAR'S ASKS || No longer accepting.

@mcltiples sent:

From morning until now, Rick had taken his partner on an adventure to three different planets. Ones he, previously, had conquered and turned into little colonies. However, the year was up and he was bored of them. So, he figured it would be a date. A chaotic, destructive date. To unleash a fiery apocalypse onto each one. And, as well, picking out a few specimens for his kitten's experiments.

It wasn't a date between them if it didn't, also, include some slaughtering and soaking themselves in blood.

Through a portal, Rick kept his hand intertwined with his partner's as they entered the hideout, into the living room. What the other didn't know was that he got several of his bots to do some decorating.

The room was dark, only lit by the orange, amber flames. Creating a soft, romantic ambience. As the portal closed behind them, the music from the stereos began to play. Not too loud, but just enough to fill the room and their ears.

"Ah-ah, don't think about getting changed or cleaned up," He pulled his partner closer to himself, placing a hand on the small of that back, the other hand holding the other's close to his chest. "You look perfect the way you are, we both do, it's fitting for who we are, what we are and what we've become,"

Bright blue eyes reveled in the blood that was all over his kitten. He knew that he must've looked similar. Blood soaking through his jacket, splattered on his face, and seeping in some parts of his hair. And it was beyond fitting. Two lethal men who were only this soft for each other.

Guiding the other into a slow, gentle dance, stepping in a squared pattern in time to the music, he continued. "It's three minutes until midnight and I figured, since I'm on a roll with the romance, I might as well end and start the year on a romantic note. At least, just a little~"

As the chuckle trailed away from him, he focused on gazing into those grey-blues. Half-lidded eyes that held a stare that spoke a thousand sappy words and a smirk that conflicted with his eyes, showcasing a much more playful, mischievous nature. Though, who wouldn't he be if his mannerisms didn't contrast once in a while.

And once the song ended, his feet stopped, and television screen counted down to the last seconds of the year. He couldn't wait. Instead of letting it hit zero, he dove in for the kiss. Soft, tender, but passionate enough to unleash those sappy thoughts his eyes once held. Unspoken words that would be told eventually.

For now, he would let himself melt into the kiss. No other thought in the world besides the ones about his kitten. About their future, how this upcoming year would go for them, and everything in between.

{ To your Evil Rick from my Weird Rick 🎆🎉🖤 }

Saying that their day had been eventful would have been a gross understatement. His partner had plenty planned, enough to keep them occupied from the morning till close to midnight. So much to show, to see, to explore, to burn down, to destroy. So many lives waiting to end at the end of the oh-so-changeable god who had brought them into existence to start with.

Rick had, as per usual, easily followed, compliant and dutiful as he always was when it came to his owner's wishes. In this case, however, he did also for his personal enjoyment. Not only he relished in blood and destruction, but he was also amused by watching his partner acting like the capricious deity he had made himself into. It was the play of a bottomless ego, yielded by a man who had enough genius and power to back it up.

It fascinated him as very few things did.

However, even with all those gory spectacles playing before his eyes and with his own hands busy making them happening, his mind wasn't fully focused on the present. At each and every hour of the day and of the night, a part of him remained too hyper aware of the ring adorning his finger for him to set the thought of it aside. Not that he had any wish to stop thinking about it. How could he have, when he still hadn't figured out his answer yet?

The hand pulling at his arm snapped him back to the present, forcefully stealing him away from the dilemma that had been consuming him for days and that would have kept his brain working for even longer. As much as he would have preferred remaining focused on his pondering, he couldn't deny his owner, especially not when the other had put an effort into creating a great time for them both.

So, he reluctantly allowed his thoughts to slip away, far under the surface but never quiet, as he took in the way the living room had been set up. The warm lighting, the music, the decorations, the atmosphere. This had to be his priority now, allowing his partner to fully live thought his fantasy.

He offered a quiet but firm nod at the words he was addressed, showing no intentions of trying to get out of the hold his alternate had on him. Instead, he let himself be guided through the steps of the dancing that followed. With every step, he quietly took notice of each and every change in his partner's features, eyes and demeanour. Once upon a time, all those contrasting signals would have confused him, but these days he knew exactly what to look for and how to interpret it.

He could easily tell that the sappy, warmer glow in those bright blue eyes was the real message he was supposed to receive, even if the surrounding playfulness and mischief weren't any less honest either.

"N-No matter what you choose, beloved," he spoke up, as he was led through the last movements of their dance. "A-Any year with you, whatever shade you'll decide to give it, is a year I wish to live through."

He didn't mean for the words to hold any hints or secret meanings, nor for them to be an innuendo to something more. For him, they were plain, simple facts. Though, he was aware that his owner could have easily read into them, if it had better fit the flavour of his delusions.

He was never given a confirmation to whether or not that would have been the case. Any other piece of conversation was abandoned in favour of a kiss. Yet another step of their endless dance that saw him following and folding as per usual.

As it should be.

Yet, while he cherished the devotion and longing he was being offered, in the darker corners of his mind the pondering never stopped. Who was he to disrupt the course and balance they had built? And merely for the sake of being brutally honest? He had no rights when his chosen life duty was to keep his owner fulfilled.

And yet, even that unshakable belief couldn't make the task any easier.

[siriuslysatorusimping]

Sample: Kiko's Original Work

Hi. I uhhhh. There's the summary just below and then some small blurbs/excerpts below the cut 😬

They likely won't make a lot of sense. But I wanted to show a bunch of different sections... I'd love to know what you guys think 😊

It's been a while since I looked at this, too. So it was really fun to go back through it!

Summary:

“The cold and I,” she murmured, her eyes burning bright and reflecting the dangerous fire within her. “We don’t know each other, little one.”

Non-humans haven’t been seen in over a century. They’re mythology now. A class taught in the schools that covers the legends of non-human creatures. No human has knowingly interacted with a non-human in over a hundred years. And they certainly don’t believe in them, despite the evidence of the creatures all throughout older parts of the Capital City of Heims. The pieces of the original city that remain, still standing against the harsh weather that plagues the region almost year-round, hold traces of those who once resided within the city walls. Of the magic users responsible for the safety those walls now offered. The same ones who were burned alive in the center of the city they helped build.

-

“It’s said,” her grandfather would whisper in her ear as she drifted off to sleep, “That descendents of the Ejdirla Kan were to be reincarnations of history’s strongest dragons.”

But none lived long enough to have children.

Except him.

“That’s you,” he would say, pride in his burning eyes as he smiled down at her content form. “That’s what you are, yavrum. A very powerful dragon resides in you. It will guide you, help you.”

-

“And what do the legends say of my kind?” her eyes were burning bright when she turned to stare at him. He could feel the anger radiating from her. “Other than that they’re extinct?”

“Creatures of great power-”

“Do the legends mention that they disappeared because they were hunted?”

The question caused Aeran to snap his mouth shut. He’d known the legends mentioned power, danger, how violent the Dragon Breaths were, but they never mentioned them being hunted.

“Why would they-?”

“My kind were hunted after the Great War. And slaughtered. My grandfather was the only to escape.”

-

Pietro clenched his jaw as he focused his energy on uttering the protection spell he had told his sister to use on the abandoned diner. Now using it to keep the space from becoming an oven in Aleva’s fire.

You did it on purpose, he accused bitterly as he watched her. She knew he would stay to protect the others if he thought her flames were too much, for so many various reasons. You’d truly rather die than let me help?

Still no response from her, her mind completely silent as she pretended to ignore him.

-

“They’re channeling abyss and aether simultaneously, melding the two outside of the vessel.”

Pietro let out a small sound of wonder. “It’s inefficient,” he stated, his brows furrowing as he came to the realization. “But the end result is the same: Abeyance.”

A trap. The pawns placed perfectly to lure the queen into her demise.

Aleva stood in the center of the square now, surrounded completely by ghulruh as the two magic users approached slowly.

-

“It’ll be impossible for her to melt any of them while they’re here.” He was shrugging his coat off as he spoke to his sister. “I’m going to need you to help me.”

The flames in front of the building rose higher as he spoke, telling him Aleva already knew what he was going to do. Her aura glowed bright now, flames encasing her as her eyes moved to meet his for just a moment, ordering him to stay inside.

Pulling his daggers from his coat before dropping it to the floor, he met Willa’s eyes. Understanding passed between them when she nodded, already muttering the incantation. It wasn’t meant for humans, but it would at least keep him alive as he passed through the fire.

Pietro cracked his neck, mentally preparing himself before propelling himself forward. Sparks jumped from the blur he left behind, the lightning he channeled striking the ground where he landed.

Blue mist shimmered around Aleva as he appeared behind the ghulruh, the ends of his sweater burned and his hair singed. He let out a steaming breath, the sweat on his forehead freezing as the climate set in.

It had been hotter than he’d expected, even for her.

-

[brandwhorestarscream]

I'm curious, what is Earthspark like in the Cybermorph-verse?

Also this goes against the original canon, but I'm just imagining Twitch as a runt who remains small but ends up as one of Megatron's favourites. Just nestled between his dorsal spines, safe and happy.

So, I don't have anything concrete decided on for the cybermorphs in earthspark, but I do have some fun backstory for Dot and Megatron! I'll just transcribe it here, under the cut if you're interested ^-^

We were talking about, somehow, cybermorph Megatron and Dorothy being friends, like in earthspark. I decided to take this hypothetical and run with it. We don't know exactly how they came together in canon, but general speculation is that she did something that earned his respect. And she clearly doesn't like Optimus all that much--they're civil, but there's no warm feelings there, yk?

So my thoughts immediately went to Dot standing up to the bots and calling them out when they're doing something whack.

Something on earth triggers Megatron to produce a small clutch of eggs. He's not planning them, they just happen. Maybe the recovery of the Allspark, the exposure to such potent life energy kickstarts his reproductive system again. Maybe uses some stored old genetic code from previous sires, maybe they're just drones, but regardless he can feel their sparks connecting to his. There's a very, very prolonged battle, the type where everyone is on the field for days at a time. Think trenches, underground compounds, anything and everything. Maybe he doesn't even realize he's carrying them: his egg-laying protocols have been disabled for millions of years, and they fit in so seamlessly in the hivemind he doesn't realize they're coming until they're coming.

He suddenly pulls back from the battlefield with no warning, shouting for Soundwave to take over, and he runs off to find somewhere dark and safe. Maybe the contractions make it so he can't change form and easily return to the hive. Ends up in one of those old cave systems or something, idk it's not important. Delivers a small clutch, probably only 4 or 5 cuz it's been so long since he's gotten any action and doesn't have a lot of extra code to fertilize them. Realizes oh slag, these aren't drone eggs. These are actual fully fertilized sparklings that are going to need hosts and will probably have to be shipped off planet immediately.

The first children he's beared in millions of years, they're indescribably precious. He has no idea who sired them, but that can come later

My idea comes from Dot along with maybe a couple autobot escorts, tracking him there. After all, he's probably doing some big bad evil decepticon shit, right?

Wrong.

Dot watches as, without even a moments' hesitation, one of the bots shoots squarely at one of the eggs. It explodes in spectacular fashion, delicate embryo slaughtered and tiny spark extinguished in less than a second.

Megatron screams, a truly primal cybermorph queen screech, and promptly transforms. Knocks the responsible party back, throwing them into the wall with such force their chassis cracks, but he's so focused on that one that the other party manages to bring their pede down on another with tremendous force and stomps the egg flat, splattering it and killing the unborn morphling.

The queen bellows, furious and devestated all at once, and when he pounces on the other Dot is nearly crushed underfoot. She stumbles back and her back hits something slimy and springy, like a thick, malleable rubber. She peels herself off and turns around, and comes face to face with one of his fresh eggs. They're so early, only minutes from emergence, thst their shells are still a bit see-through. It takes her a moment to make out what she's looking at, but when she does, her suspicious squint slackens and her eyes widen. She knows this thing very well. Tiny, too-big head and little dark spots where eyes should be, nubby body shaped like a bean with no arms or legs.

She's seen this kind of image many times. On ultrasounds of her little brother and in her cousin's parenting books and on posters at the doctor's office.

An embryo.

A fetus.

These are his babies!

"NOOO! " she throws herself in front of a nearby egg, arms out wide as if she could somehow block the shot one bot is priming.

"What are you doin', squishy?!" He barks at her. "Move!"

"No! These are chi-"

"Monsters, Dorothy! They're monsters!"

They swing their gun the other way as if to shoot another, and she dives in front of it again. Megatron is busy pounding the other into the ground, trying to get himself back the nest that they've successfully cut him off from. There's only 3 left, he has to save them!

"Scrap this!" The bot bats her aside--not enough to injure her, just enough to get her out of the way with the barrel of their blaster, still struggling to pill himself up after hitting the wall hard enough to rattle his internals. One of his legs is limp and useless, that's the only thing stopping him. Dot manages to land on her feet, skidding back, ribs aching from the impact.

The blaster powers up one more time, and the distinctive thrum is enough to distract Megatron from where his secondary jaw has punctured his opponent's spark chamber, ripping it out and shredding it with his serrated fangs. He throws the body down and is immediately snarling as he leaps at the other mecha, but it's too late.

Blood flies everywhere and Dorothy s c r e a m s, collapsing to the ground with half of her leg gone. She lands in a puddle of sticky, hot fluid: the egg behind her that she had tried to shield has unfortunately been punctured and is leaking all over the cave floor. Her ears start ringing, she's losing blood so fast and her vision blurs when she tries to look at her leg--she can see bone and muscles and tendons exposed to open air, and she doesn't even notice Megatron'a cybermorph queen warcry as he rips off the other mech's head.

In the aftermatch, once they're dead, he turns his attention to his babies. Only two remain, two eggs miraculously unbroken. The human that had tried to defend then, while valliant, was unsuccessful. The third one has drained out all over the floor and there's no breathing life back into them.

But still. He replays all the audio in his helm, and could hear her arguing with the other. He'd seen her scrambling back and forth, trying to block a shot to his eggs. She... she protected them, fearlessly, like a praetorian would. She put herself at the mercy of alien weapons so strong it could vaporize her entire body. She'd sacrificed a part of herself for them, and for that he's grateful.

Megatron always repays his debts. Especially after finding out that humans can't simply regenerate or replace limbs 🤭 when Megatron leaves, he takes her with. Gently cradling his eggs in one hand, picking her up in the other. She's still bleeding profusely so he licks over the wound with his glossa, thick oily solvent congregating on the wound and stopping the blood flow. He leaves with his cargo, and when the bots find the site later, 2 of their comrades are dead and there's a crazy amount of human blood on the floor. Naturally, she's assumed dead, but is actually at the bottom of the sea in the depths of the Nemesis, engineers and medical hard at work giving her her mobility back as thanks for protecting their unhatched siblings.

[thevelaryons]

What do you think Addam and Corlys were talking about in this scene? "And Addam Velaryon, lately Addam of Hull, sought out the Sea Snake after the battle; what they spoke to each other even Mushroom does not say."

You know, I've been asking myself this very same question for many years now. Since it's a notable instance in which Mushroom doesn't offer his unsolicited opinion, and even the other two narrators don't make any mention of what Addam & Corlys could have spoken about, we can only speculate...

My personal guess is that Addam wanted out. This is right after the Battle of the Gullet. Driftmark has been burned and sacked. Countless people have perished in the battle. And this would've been the first battle of Addam's life (he just used to be a ship boy before that). This wasn't any minor skirmish either but a battle involving dragons and seeing firsthand the carnage wrought from that would certainly have a big impact on the survivors. Addam's (and Nettle's) reaction is directly compared to the happier, celebratory one of the other dragonseeds:

Mushroom tells us there were two men on Dragonstone that night who drank to the slaughter in a smoky tavern beneath the castle: the dragonriders Hugh the Hammer and Ulf the White, who had flown Vermithor and Silverwing into battle and lived to boast of it. “We are knights now, truly,” Hard Hugh declared. And Ulf laughed and said, “Fie on that. We should be lords.” The girl Nettles did not share their celebrations. She had flown with the others, fought as bravely, burned and killed as they had, but her face was black with smoke and streaked with tears when she returned to Dragonstone. And Addam Velaryon, lately Addam of Hull, sought out the Sea Snake after the battle; what they spoke to each other even Mushroom does not say.

I say Addam wanted out specifically because of the contrast it creates with his big moment with Corlys later.

So then it would be as follows: After the Gullet, Addam tells Corlys of his intention to leave and Corlys stops him vs Corlys later being the one to help Addam escape from the dragonpit.

Plus, this ties into Corlys' characterization too. After Laenor's marriage to Rhaenyra, Corlys still kept him at High Tide while Rhaenyra was residing at Dragonstone, such that it's even said the marriage was never consummated to begin with (which I firmly believe). When Laena returns back to Westeros, after her exile in Essos with Daemon is over, she takes up residence in her father's house again. Corlys is the type of person who has his grand ambitions but is unwilling to commit to the risk that comes with it, which leads him back to square zero. Since he preferred to keep his children close, it makes sense that he'd hold that same sentiment with Addam. Though he allowed his children their freedom for the most part, he can still be an overbearing patriarch. By the time Corlys finally learns to let go, he's already lost so much. Which in turn makes his relationship with his youngest child quite different (especially when you consider that Alyn is the one most like Corlys). He goes from keeping Laena & Laenor with him at High Tide, to taking Addam with him to King's Landing, to leaving Alyn behind at Castle Driftmark. Corlys might have felt a great deal of guilt by the end.

As for Addam, his talk with Corlys certainly changed him in some way (you can decide whether it was for the better or worse). He goes from a child seeking reassurance from his elder after a bloody battle to a soldier who no longer flinches from violence to the point that he'll even suicide charge a bigger, more battle hardened dragon:

Ser Addam Velaryon had come to prove his loyalty by destroying the Two Betrayers and their dragons, and here was one beneath him, attacking the men who had joined him for this fight. He must have felt duty bound to protect them, though surely he knew in his heart that his Seasmoke could not match the older dragon. This was no dance, but a fight to the death.