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maximons · 3 years

Text

All Is Lost

Summary: Zombies have taken over the world, humanity on the edge of extinction. All hope was lost. Despite that, Wanda couldn’t seem to let go of Y/n, who had fallen victim to the plague herself.

Word Count: 2,263

Genre: Angst

Requested?: No

Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, death, cannibalism, suicide, mentions of blood. Spoilers for Ep. 5 of What If...?

A/N: I know, I know, I’m gonna get into the stuff I promised soon. But for now, the Zombies episode inspired me and this came out. If you haven’t seen the episode yet, go watch it. Its amazing and depressing. Also this is DARK guys, probably the darkest thing I’ve ever written, so...Happy Reading!

The Zombie apocalypse was always something everyone joked about, but never something that anyone could actually predict.

Everything happened so quickly, Wanda could barely keep up. It’s hard to believe that everything was so normal only two weeks ago. Now, she was locked away with Vision in an abandoned military base in New Jersey. Desperate to survive for as long as possible while Vision worked on a cure.

Some of his experiments had been a success, most notably Scott Lang who he was able to revert back from his zombified state. However, the man was now only a severed head.

Despite the success, Vision was less than optimistic. For one, Scott was one of the first infected. While the cure worked on him, the android theorized that the disease has mutated greatly since then, and it was likely impossible to cure everyone. And even if he could, the technology to do so is beyond human comprehension and therefore doesn’t exist.

Vision might have all but given up hope, but Wanda didn’t. She couldn’t. She refused to give up on you.

Wanda and you have been best friends for as long as Wanda had been an Avenger. You were already a member of the team and greeted her with an open mind and open arms, despite all she had done. You had fire powers, and while your powers weren’t identical to Wanda’s, you still offered some basic tips and tricks to keep such explosive powers at bay.

It wasn��t a surprise that she fell in love with you.

But her stupid fear had to get in the way, and when you came to confess your own feelings for her, she panicked and rejected you. You were so heartbroken, Wanda didn’t need to read your mind to know that.

And it kills her everyday knowing that that was the last interaction she had with you. The last one with you as yourself anyway.

All that remained now was the flesh hungry, blood thirsty monster that wore your, now rotting, skin.

This wasn’t you, she knows that. She looked into your mind and saw no trace of the woman you once were, the one she loved with all her heart. She couldn’t feel you, you were gone.

Despite this, Wanda couldn’t let you go. She couldn’t handle losing you entirely. She already lost almost everyone.

She managed to convince Vision to keep you in the base for testing. You were locked behind a large steel door, with only a window to see you through. But you were here, and that’s all Wanda cared about.

The cure wasn’t working for you. Your powers caused it to incinerate when it entered your system, proving it to be ineffective. Still, she refused to give up.

Vision thought it best to terminate you after the failed tests, but Wanda begged him not to. Knowing he couldn’t overpower her, and sensing his friend’s distress with anything that comes to you, he agreed. As long as Wanda had it under control.

She doubted he knew that she was luring innocent survivors into the base so you could feed on them, but she did what she had to do.

Wanda spent most of her days sitting outside of your cell. The first few days, you were ravenous. Banging on the walls and trying to burn them down, growling and screeching with the inhuman noise that took over your vocal chords, but you didn’t manage to break free. After a while, it seemed you have given up, and just sat in place. Only moving when Wanda opened the cell and let some of your ‘food’ in.

There were times where Wanda thought that maybe, just maybe, the cure was working more than they thought. You seemed to have recognized her, your facial expressions formed into ones that she had recognized and missed dearly. But that hope quickly died when she would peek into your head and still sense nothing.

“Hey, Y/n.” Wanda walked up to outside your cell and sat cross-legged like she did everyday. Your head rose, staring at her with your now glowing yellow eyes. “Still no progress on the cure, but don’t worry, I’m not giving up yet.” You offered no response, not that she expected one. “It’s hard. It’s only getting worse out there...” She sighed as she trailed off. She raised her hand to the glass, like she always did. “I’m going to figure it out...we’re gonna get you back to normal, and I’m going to tell you every day how much I love you. I miss you so much, but...we’re almost there. I can feel it...” Wanda’s voice started choking up, as tears ran down her face. “We deserve our happy ending.”

Her hand was still pressed against the glass as she finished her speech. She was about to lower it, but then something unexpected happened. You stared at her hand curiously, beginning to raise your own. Wanda watched, smile forming on her face as your arm made it’s way to the glass.

“Wanda! Please come here, we have a situation.” You had almost pressed your hand against Wanda’s, when Vision’s voice interrupted. Your attention turned to the direction it came from and you let out a growl, clearly angry at the interruption. Wanda sighed in disappointment, but she tried not to let it take over. You still showed massive improvement, something worth reporting back to Vision. “It’s okay.” She soothed you. “I’m going to go see what he wants then I’ll be right back, okay? I know you’re hungry, I’ll get you some food too.” You didn’t offer a response as she walked off.

“Vis! I have to tell you-” Wanda began as she walked into the main room, but cut herself off at the new faces. She didn’t recognize the bald woman with the spear or the wimpy looking man in a workers uniform, but she was familiar with Peter. What surprised her most though, was Bruce Banner. A man she hasn’t seen in over three years. “What is going on?”

“I ran into them outside the premises. Apparently word has gotten out about the cure.” Vision answered before turning his attention back to the guests. “As I told you, I am afraid we cannot help you. The cure seems to be a moot point.”

“Well, what about-” Peter began, but he was interrupted by a new voice.

“For something you have no hope for, you sure don’t have a problem bringing in new test subjects.” Wanda recognized Bucky Barnes’ voice. She turned around, and her eyes widened as she saw King T’challa on his arm, struggling to stand on his one remaining leg.

Shit.

“My king! We thought you dead.” The bald woman exclaimed in relief and surprise.

“Your highness. I was not aware you were in the base.” Vision said, confused on how that got by him. It didn’t take him long to figure out why. “Wanda...”

“I’m sorry.” Wanda whispered, knowing she was caught. “The cure wasn’t working on Y/n, and in order to keep her at bay, I had to feed her.”

“So you fed her our King?” A spear was raised to her throat, threateningly.

“It was nothing personal, I promise. I have her under control and the cure is starting to work, I know it. We just need a little more time!”

“Why not just kill her? You lured innocent people to their deaths just for her when there a couple million more Zombies out there that you could use for testing. Ones that have a chance of being cured.” The whole room went quiet after Bucky said that.

“Uh oh. Shouldn’t have said that.” Wanda heard Scott say, but she was too busy glaring at Bucky. Her eyes started to go red, but before she could do anything, she noticed the spear held to her throat begin to glow red and melt. The woman dropped the spear as it began to burn her hands.

“Did it just suddenly get like, super hot?” Peter asked as he began to fan himself.

“Oh no...” Wanda trailed off. She looked up to notice the steal walls that led to your cell begin to melt. “You’ve done it now...she hasn’t eaten in days.” Before anyone could respond, the steel doors melted completely. The man in the uniform was unfortunate enough to be standing in front of it, as a strong burst of flame shot out and incinerated him on the spot. Only a second later, you flew out the door, covered in flames as you hovered above everyone.

Wanda watched in horror as you began to fight everyone. They weren’t holding up very well, and that’s when Wanda finally realized what she had done. This wasn’t you, and if you were still here, you would hate to see your body be used to attack and kill others.

“Vision! Get us out of here!” She heard Bruce yell, and Vision shot a blast towards the wall, blowing it up and letting everyone out. Wanda turned her focus back to you, you watched them starting to escape and you began to fly after them, but a red mist surrounded you before you could. You turned your head, starting to growl, but stopped when you saw it was Wanda.

“Y/n. Stop...” You tilted your head, still struggling to move as Wanda came closer. She took a chance and reached up, gently placing a hand on your face. “I am so sorry...you never deserved this...” Your face softened at the touch, beginning to show the signs of emotion that Wanda desperately held onto. However, it was clear now that it was too late.

You snapped out of it, as you managed to break free from Wanda’s hold. You opened your mouth wide, intent on biting and feeding on her, but something stopped you. You hesitated, and Wanda noticed. You settled for pushing her aside to the ground as you reignited yourself and flew out of the base.

Wanda picked herself up after a moment, intent on stopping you. She ran past Okoye’s body, charred and eaten, but she was sure there was little time until she turned. She ran faster to where you were, now facing off against Bucky. She sprinted further, about to take off and fly when she paused.

Vision was face down on the ground. She kneeled next to him, glowing red hand turning over his body, afraid of what she’ll see. Once he was turned, Wanda gasped at the sight. The mind stone was torn out of his head.

“Oh no...no, no, no...” She held his body, tears slowly building as she mourned the loss of her best friend. She had officially lost everything. “I am so sorry Vis...I’m going to make this right, I promise.”

She heard Bucky scream. She looked over to see you start to feed on him. She saw Bruce, Peter, Scott and T’challa in the distance, making their way to the jet. They were your next target.

No. Wanda wasn’t going to let that happen. It ends now.

She used her powers to propel herself forward, landing directly in your path. You growled at her yet again as she used her powers to hold you. “Y/n...please, stop.” You struggled to get out of the hold, but Wanda held on. “This isn’t you...you wouldn’t want this...I love you more than anything, and I’m so sorry...I hope one day, you’ll forgive me.”

Wanda used her powers to grab the gun laying by Bucky’s side. She held in to your head, ready to pull the trigger...but she couldn’t. She let out a scream of frustration and dropped her hold on both you and the gun. The gun fell to the ground, but you haven’t moved.

“I can’t do it...I...I’m not strong enough...” Wanda began crying, shutting her eyes and waited for you to finish her off. She failed everyone, no one deserved death more than her. She opened her eyes when nothing came. You stood, staring at her with a tilt of your head. The yellow of your eyes dimming as you stared.

“W....Wan...” You struggled to let out, but it was enough for Wanda to hear. She cried even harder. She was right, you were almost there...but it was too late now.

You took in your surroundings as best you could, you didn’t have a lot of awareness, but you knew enough to piece everything together. You saw the influx of zombies starting to enter to base. Everyone needed to get away. You turned back to Wanda, and you knew what you had to do. You felt the little control you had start to slip away.

You bent down and picked up the discarded gun. You shakily pointed it to your temple, the control slipping away faster and faster. “Love....you....I...sorry...” You managed to croak out. Before you could lose control completely, you pulled the trigger.

Wanda watched in horror as you shot yourself in the head. Pieces of your brain landing on her, your blood drenching her. She looked down to see your body, half your face still together, but you were gone. Truly gone.

She knelt down sobbing, as she held your body. After a moment she looked up to see the Hulk appear as the zombies began to overwhelm the base. She saw the jet take off, and she gave a weak smile. They got away. Wanda’s job was done. This is where her story ends. All was lost for her.

So when the zombies finally reached her, she didn’t fight back. Accepting her death with open arms.

Epilogue

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you

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cloudninetonine · 3 years

Text

Cogito, ergo sum

Chapter: 2

Pairing: Connor (RK800) x fem!reader

A/N: Hey guys! I want to apologise for the long wait between chpaters but seeing as I’m on my last year of college my school work is coming before everything else so it’s a little hard working between them! Don’t worry, I’m not dropping this series or anything just expect chapters to take a little long to be loaded and everything! Also, this chapter seems a little too far paced for me, so sorry about that as well!

Tags at the bottom once again!

I do not own Detroit become human this is merely fanficion

Warnings: Bad language, physical assault, threats (?), hints of abuse, (Name) being weird like always, also angry (Name), mentions of drugs, there’s a bit of slander against drug abusers that I do not condone!

Undercut babes!

It’s fascinating, it really is, the way her beautiful gaze follows you as you round her, studying her feverishly, your eyes wide and bright.

She’s...well, words cannot describe her. Her beauty lies beyond your imagination and you’re not quite equipped to say anything that her magnificent ears deserve to hear, your words are below her and she’s just-

Wow.

“Ms (Last), please-”

You raise your hand towards the younger engineer, silencing with a small utter of ‘hush’ and he’s shutting his mouth, falling back to the side of your desk with not much else to say.

The android you’ve been un-shamelessly ogling for the past 10 solid minutes is still very quiet, she’s just watching you in her manufactured attire, shy, nervous, scared- everything you really wish she wasn’t right now because there is no way you want her to see you as some sort of threat, far from it.

“Henry” Turning back towards the engineer, he stiffs up like a board, sweat forming on his brow “Why didn’t you dismantle her?”

It’s rude, it’s horrible to say and it sours your mouth when you form those words, but it’s an honest question, you want to know why someone would do this, keep her alive, see her for all her glory.

The public spoke strongly about their opinions of androids, like toys to be played with, slaves to be worked, not the thing you so desperately wanted people to see them as. The masterpieces that stood beyond human comprehension.

The android lets out a noise similar to a whimper as Henry stammers out.

“I-I couldn’t she- um- I-” Finally, he sighs with frustration, Henry makes eye contact with you “She said was scared and...I couldn’t”

You snap back to face her.

“Is that true?”

She hesitates, one second, two seconds, three seconds, four- it takes a whole 30 seconds before she’s finally responding. “Yes…”

Your chest bursts in excitement.

“You’re incredible” Henry deflates in relief, placing a hand against your desk while you grasp her cheeks, her warm grey eyes glancing between your two hands then meet your own stare, confused. “Amazing, beautiful, fantastic, so, so much more”

“...thank you”

You sniff, then you’re pulling away, trying to keep your tears abay. You really can’t believe that your work has gone so far, that new forms of sentient are evolving from a human’s hand, you’re so overjoyed by it all but you’re also kind of realising how weird you’re being.

“Sorry, I’m becoming the creepy stereotypical scientist, let me just-” Pulling off your lab coat, you throw it over her shoulders, pulling it tighter around her for her dainty hands to grasp and hold, a smile growing on her face in gratitude. You’re really still in awe of it all but send her a giddy smile back “Henry get Kamski I’m sure he’s gonna love this”

When the man disappears, closing the office door behind him, you guide her to a chair, kneeling before her kindly.

“Tell me” She waits patiently for you to continue “What’s your name?”

When she opens her mouth, you interrupt her, grasping her hands “No, not the name you were given, the name you have chosen. What is your name?”

You’re at the beginning of history right here, you can already see the books that are yet to be written, all starting at this very moment, with you and her. This android, this amazing, piece of living metal, is the start of something great and you can’t wait to be a part of it.

“My name is….”

-----------

“(Name), I’m sorry, but there isn’t really anything I can do”

Your hands come down on the desk, expression unbelieving.

“But he attacked Ortiz in self defence, it’s not fair for him to be shipped to Cyberlife! That hellhole already has enough test subjects with other deviants, why can’t he be let go!?” Pushing yourself back up, you drag your hands down your face in exasperation “He’s a victim! He was defending himself, why can’t we let him off with a lesser offence?”

Billie sighs, shutting the file softly. “Because in the eyes of the law, he’s not a victim. He’s property and there isn’t much we can do about that. Besides, because Ortiz is dead, his ownership basically goes back to Cyberlife, so they have the authority to take him back”

Billie’s right, you know that they’re right, but it’s just so frustrating, so vexing that this is the case. An android, in the eyes of society, is nothing more than their components, why should they be given the same privilege as those who eat, shit and breathe?

Billie may be a judge, but they didn’t make the law.

You remember years ago, when something like this would have been seen as detestable, that the masses would have stood up to fight this kind of horror, but for some reason, with age came stupidity and ignorance it seemed. What the fuck had happened to you all?

You open your mouth, then close it, then open it again before huffing, taking the file from their desk and ripping your coat off the hanger.

“I’m sorry, (Name)!” Billie calls and you wave them off, shouting back a ‘Don’t worry about it’ then close their office.

The courthouse is only a few blocks away from the precinct, a good walk away, a good way to calm yourself down until you’re having to face the frustration that comes in with having to work in such a high strung place. It’s funny really, you used to say ACAB when you were younger, still believed it too, so it’s really a wonder as to why you joined, but then again sometimes to make change you have to become the very thing you hate-

“Detective (Last)-”

You scream, almost dropping your files and jumping a meter within the air. Passerbys don’t even spare you a glance, a generation raised on the weirdest websites like Vine, Tiktok, Youtube and god forbid, Tumblr, have them desensitised to whatever shit people like to play at now-a-days.

“Oh my God, Inspector Gadget” A hand falls to your chest, checking your racing heartbeat “You can’t just sneak up on a bitch like that”

Connor, the big old puppy, tilts his head in mild confusion “But I called your name twice, detective”

Oh.

“What are you doing here, Connor?”

The android joins your side and you continue your way. “Lieutenant Anderson informed me that you were heading to the courthouse, so I decided to come and brief you about a new case”

A new case, of course a new case, deviancy keeps popping up all over the country rapidly but you can’t hold your surprise about the fact that it’s been a few days and there’s already a new case.

“Deadass?”

Wait, you hadn’t mean to say that-

His eyes narrow “Deadass?”

A snort escapes you “Oh my God I can’t believe you just said that, it sounds so cursed coming from your mouth. I meant, seriously?”

You swear on your life, on everything that may be above and so much more, that the android lets out a laugh when he continues, explaining the details as you finally enter the office.

You realise, as he talks, you feel a whole lot lighter than you had earlier.

-----------

“This guy is as scummy as it gets”

Unfortunately, you can’t help but agree. Todd Williams is about as charismatic as a dumpster fire, messy hair, messy face, stained clothing and the stench of alcohol clung when you finally met him, having to hold back a wince of disgust.

You don’t usually speak ill of others, but you know his type, from the way he carries himself to the way he speaks. You’ve had to face men like him before, his whole demeanor brings back bad memories and you’re so glad that you’re not the one having to get details from him, to have to speak to him.

One thing’s for sure though, you don’t blame whatever deviant decided to book it from him.

“Why doesn’t he just...get a refund from Cyberlife?” You take a sip of your milkshake, staring at Hank, Connor and Mr Williams who looked to be ending off their conversation. “They do that for deviants, don’t they?”

Yes, if you remember, the new flashy CEO of the hell corp spoke it for all to see, that deviance is guaranteed to offer you your cash back.

How inhumane it all sounded.

Gavin scoffs, drinking his coffee “You think a guy like that cares about refunds?”

No. You know why he’s doing it. It’s all about power for fuckers like that.

Mr Williams leaves, Hank is looking through his notes, Connor is heading your way, probably to refer all the information back to you and Gavin is taking in a breath to start his bullshit again, despite your civilness that you had been sharing.

Eh, peace was never an option-

“Your metal boyfriend is heading this way”

The noise you make isn’t human, it’s a mix of a wheeze and scream, like you’ve just choked on the air your breathing and in all honesty, you have, but you’re not letting that mother fucker get away with catching you off guard, especially when he starts laughing.

“Shut up, furry”

Your actually feel the air from his head snapping towards you. “I’m not a fucking furry, quit fucking saying it!”

You pat his shoulder “It’s alright, Reed, we all know you wrote yiff fiction in your spare time-”

You dodge his fist, running away from his red, angered face and petty insults, dragging Connor away from the break room to the side, all while laughing up a storm.

Having your attention on the android again brings back Gavin’s words, his tease of ‘boyfriend’ which makes your face heat up, in what? You’re not quite sure, but it’s enough to make Connor notice your oddity.

“What were you and Detective Reed-”

“Nothing” You cackle, patting down his shoulders to distract yourself “He’s just being an arsehole again, nothing to worry yourself over”

And worry himself he didn’t, because he couldn’t of course, android and all.

Connor was quick to fill you in, an AX400 by the name of Kara had stolen (the word kidnapped comes to mind but you know that the robot detective will just ‘correct’ you on your wording) another android, Mr William’s ‘daughter’, model YK500 named Alice after assaulting him the night before. Mr Williams had been knocked out after the ordeal, as to why it had taken him so long to report it.

“Were there any signs of assault that you could see? Ones that could lead to a potential take down or unconsciousness?” Connor takes a moment before shaking his head “Yeah, I didn’t think so”

What a lying fuck.

“Let’s head to the briefing room”

Hank is there, as well as a whole group of other police officers, talking amongst themselves as you situate yourself behind the podium, screen remote in hand and smiling brightly. Your partners are at your side, Connor in his usual stoic stance while the old fart has his arms crossed, bored as always and you’re ready to debrief the many uniforms but they keep talking, even after you clear your throat.

You’re not one to get angry at being talked over, annoyed, yes, but anger leads you nowhere with a crowd, so instead, you use your most favourite tactic to date

“Pay attention to me or I am gonna start screaming people” You sing. Not a threat, but a promise. “And you all know I will screech like mother fucker”

The room is silent in the next second.

“Great! So-”

The door to the room bursts open.

“Fucking really-”

“Detective (Last)'' It's the front office assistant and by the looks of it, he is panicked, worried even, as he addresses you. You suddenly feel your stomach knot up “I’m sorry, but there’s been an emergency with your relative Carl Manfred”

You swallow, hard. “What?”

The meeting ends right then and there.

-----------

Hank hurls to a stop right outside the entrance. You’re already halfway out of the car when he shuts off the vehicle, Connor is taking off his seatbelt and you’re already racing down the soaked concrete path to the front door, rain pelting down on you.

You barely feel it though.

You startle the receptionist when you slam your hands down, eyes wide in panic, breathing coming out in fast, short pants and just looking as though you faced the masses to make it to this spot, right in front of her.

“Carl Manfred, he was brought here about an hour ago is he-”

She interrupts “Are you family?”

“Yes, please, I-”

“In what relation do you have to the patient?”

Is she really fucking serious right now? You debated leaning over and strangling your answer out of her, letting her know what kind of fucking pain you could put her through in this very moment-

But the hand that is placed against your back keeps you still. It’s warm and comforting and keeps you from mauling the fucker right out of her chair, though it doesn’t calm your anxiety, no, but at least it’s there.

You turn to see Connor, who nods towards you politely.

Huh, what a twist of events.

Hank leans over from your other side, looking just as angry as you feel, though he keeps his voice civil when he speaks “Listen, her old man’s just had a heart attack, could you drop the formal shit so she can see him?”

Her voice is sharp, just like her stupid fucking face and she snaps back “I can’t let you in unless I know your relation, unless you’d like to be escorted out by security”

Damn, she’s playing with fire and you’re ready to throw oil all fucking over her.

“I don’t fucking think so-” Pulling out your badge, you slam it against the desk, with nothing short of a growl “Police. Now, tell me where my fucking dad is or you’ll regret the next words that come out of your mouth”

You never abuse your power as a cop, it’s inhumane and back in your younger days you sneered at the disgusting police who would use their authority for their own gain, so you hate to admit but the nervous look that crosses her face when she sees your badge and Hank’s when he pulls it out for extra effect scratches an itch you begged to be scratched.

“Floor 3, the front desk will inform you what room”

“Thanks” You spit, already rushing to the elevator, the other two following.

Connor is quiet, to your surprise. Honestly, you expected him to speak out about your behaviour, your attitude, your unprofessionalism, but he says nothing, just trails after the two of you in silence, obediently, just like he was made for.

It’s comforting having him here, even if he’s just following orders.

The next receptionist is kinder than the last (she even scowls at the mention of her coworker) and points down the hallway, to where two officers stand with cups of coffee within their hands. They stiffen in surprise at your arrival, but you pay them no mind, pushing your way into the room where you finally pause, taking in the scene of your beloved father figure, laid still within the bed, pale, heart monitor beeping occasionally.

The doctor by Carl’s side looks up at you. “I’m sorry, but who are you?”

Hank and Connor wait outside.

“(Name) (Last), Carl’s daughter and emergency contact” You explain, walking further into the room “Is he- Can I-”

“He’s fine” She explains with a comforting smile “And yes, you can come closer, though the medication has him knocked unconscious so he won’t be talking any time soon”

The relief almost has you collapsing, brings you back from the panic attack that threatens to kick your arse right in front of everyone and you finally breathe normally.

“Thank you, and you are?”

“Dr Collins” Collins offers her hand and you shake it weakly. “Your father is going to be okay, (Name), but he’s going to need a lot of rest. Cardiac arrest at this age can be fatal, so we were lucky that he lived so close”

You nod, tiredly slinking to Carl’s side to drop into the cushion chair, taking his hand in yours. Kissing it lovingly, you place it close to you in comfort, in reassurance.

‘He’s fine, he’s fine, he’s going to be okay-’

“What are you doing here?”

Your anger shoots right back up, as does you head when you turn to look at the doorway.

“Leo” The name is dragged out of your mouth, it’s spoken with a heavy coat of venom and dirt and for all the participants who are about to see this wild shit show, is a clear indication that you’re far from happy to see the man that stood there. “The fuck are you doing here?”

He scoffs “I’m family, what else am I here for?”

“Oh I don’t know,” You’re standing, stalking closer to him with a raged gleam in your eye “To mooch off him a little bit more?”

The tension can be cut with a knife, everyone can see it, feel it, even Connor, who looks ready to intervene at any given moment.

“No, detective” One of the officiers starts, cutting in in hopes to keep you both calm. “He was there when it all happened, he saw everything-”

“He was there?” No, her words only add fuel to the fire and you’re glaring at your brother once again “You were there? The fuck were you there for? You did this?”

“No!”

“Please calm down” Collins cuts in “I understand the anger but the other patients-”

You ignore her, glancing around the area when a thought struck you.

“Where’s Markus?”

Connor’s the first to respond, “Who’s Markus, detective (Last)?”

“Dad’s care bot” A pin drops, no one is speaking, the two cops are quiet, Leo is scowling, but he’s not looking at you and your anger is quickly making room to fear, cold and stabbing when you push again, harsher, angrier “Where the fuck is Markus?”

The second officer speaks this time, hat in his hands and you know what happens next is not going to be good.

“He was leaning over your father when we walked in detective, Mr Leo Manfred told us he attacked him” The man gulps, hesitating. He’s not nervous for what he’s done, no, he’s nervous about the dark look that seems to be slowly taking over your eyes, “I shot him”

A beat goes by. Then another, another, another, another, another-

“Why were you there in the first place?” It’s soft, curious, but the rage behind it is big, your need for an answer is keeping it back “What was the call for?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t-”

“Answer the question, officer”

His partner offers up the answer “....A break in, ma’am”

There’s silence, then you nod in understanding.

No one is quick enough to stop you from shoving Leo into the wall, hands wrapped tightly around the lapels of his jacket and holding him up so you can scream at him properly, face feeling hot from anger, eyes wild from rage, practically feral.

“You fucking did this! This is your fault, you good for nothing fuck!” You pull your hand back and punch him right in the face, he’s too in shock to react but everyone else is trying to pull you off “What?! Were you off your shit from snorting that fucking powder again, you damn druggie!? Huh!? HUH!? You high right now, too!?”

“Jesus fucking Christ, (Name), let go!” Hank yells but he’s fucking impressed by your resistance.

“He could have died because of you, you good for nothing cunt! Worthless piece of shit! Now, Markus is fucking dead because of you, the person who was actually fucking taking care of him! This is all your fault! He’s in that hospital bed, because of you! You! Did! This! All for those stupid drugs! You’re fucking pathetic!”

You’re finally tugged off by someone, their arms slipping under your own to stop you from going back at him again. The officers are acting as a wall between you and your brother, Dr Collin’s is checking his nose as blood drips down his face, Leo is still in shock and Hank is leaning over, hands propped onto his knees. That leaves...

“I’m sorry detective (Last), but I’m going to have to restrain you until you calm down”

You scream in frustration and try to fight against it, but damn, you have to admit in a moment of clarity, Connor is fucking strong.

“Lieutenant Anderson, if you could take her legs, we can escort her out of the building without much trouble” Hank huffs something under his breath probably a grunt of ‘fucking android’ but complies, glaring at you when he leans down.

“You kick me and I’ll kick your ass”

Your respect for him makes you comply, but the anger doesn’t stop you from cussing both him and the android out, naming every threat under the sun as they carry you out of the building, back to the car which you are shoved placed into.

“Let me out of this fucking car, Hank!” You bellow, glaring at the man with sharp eyes who stood outside the vehicle, leaning against it “I’ll break this fucking window, I swear to fucking God!”

“You can try, but we both know you won’t!”

Once again, you’re screaming, tugging frantically at the door’s handle that you know is locked, but are way too angered to care right now.

Connor sits by your side, a good distance away to not antagonise you, silent, waiting and watching as you slowly fall from angry to desperate, tears welling within your eyes and falling down your cheeks. It only takes a few more moments for you to stop altogether, your shoulders shaking as you sob, quietly but strong.

The android finally speaks “Detective (Last)-”

You’re on him in a moment, arms wrapped around his frame, face buried into his shoulder, wetting his suit jacket as you cry, shaking.

It’s a new one for Connor. An android built for detective work, to sniff out the bad deviants, to question suspects and actually built with a comforting feature for victims of crimes. But this is a first, a first he’s seen anyone to tears, more importantly, a first of seeing you so broken. Sure, he had seen you defeated those few days ago, but this is different, you’re not trying to hide conflicting feelings behind your bubbly smile and weird jokes, you’re just...crying. Nothing more, nothing less.

His arms are hovering at your sides, hesitant, unsure and it’s not until Hank gestures from outside the car to ‘fucking do something, you stupid machine’ that the protocol finally kicks in, his arms coming to wrap around you securely and comforting, reassuring you through your whimpers.

Connor is a robot, a machine that feels nothing.

But seeing you cry isn’t something he can just let happen.

Software instability.

-----------

Tags: @dillxpixkles @1950schick @pinkittwice @iris-suoh @loveflowsthroughme @thatlonelyalto @starcatcher-kay (ya’ll I’m half asleep if I forgot you in the taglist I am SORRY-)

#connor rk800 #dbh connor #detroit become human connor #dbh hank #detroit become human hank #dbh gavin #detroit become human gavin #dbh carl #detroit become human carl #connor rk800 x reader #connor rk800 imagine #dbh connor x reader #dbh x reader #dbh imagine #dbh #detroit become human #dbh leo #detroit become human leo #cogito ergo sum

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millennialdemon · 3 years

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Coming off of true trainwrecks the likes of Mars of Destruction and Skelter Heaven, I actually came out of Dark Cat with a sense of respect and gratitude for its competence.

For the uninitiated, Dark Cat is a notoriously bad OVA from 1991 that you will see listed in many Worst Anime Ever countdowns. It follows 2 brothers, “dark cats” Hyoi and Rui, who investigate supernatural happenings and purify evil with their somewhat undefined powers of shapeshifting and increased strength/agility. The majority of the story in the OVA is about a school girl named Aimi, who is pining after her childhood friend Koizumi, who since the rejection and sudden death of his crush, has been suffering a depressive episode and ignoring her. Hyoi and Rui sense dark forces are manifesting at the school, and they keep an eye on Aimi while fighting off the increasingly brazen appearances of demonic enemies.

A monstrous ex-dark cat named Jukokubo is revealed to be manipulating Aimi with his dark powers, and Hyoi and Rui fight him, but not before Aimi succumbs to the evil magic -- as well as her own violent jealousy and overprotectiveness of Koizumi -- and transforms into a horrific tentacle monster that kills seemingly everyone in the school.

In the end, Koizumi realizes that Aimi was in love with him the entire time, and doesn’t fight her when she engulfs him completely. Apparently this act of selfless love was enough to purify them both, and although they do indeed die, their souls are “light” and able to ascend. This throws a wrench in Jukokubo’s plan to prove that humans are The Worst, so he turns tail and leaves his boss fight against Hyoi, threatening to return again. In the epilogue, Hyoi and Rui reflect on the mission and wax poetic about the nature of humanity while crossing a busy street.

… Ehm… happy ending, yes?

Now then: there are actually quite a few things I enjoyed about Dark Cat, and they are all very simple things that I had come to miss after days of watching other entries from the Bottom of the Barrel.

It had a narrative, and was -- mostly -- comprehensible in its storytelling, as rushed as it may have been. There was an undeniable presence of an art director, something I’m not convinced was present in a few of the other similarly rated titles I have seen. Some of the shots were noticeably well composed and even clever, and required an artistic vision and some decent effort to create. The animation wasn’t awful, the designs ranged from serviceable to genuinely charming (I like the subtlety of Hyoi and Rui’s cat-like features!), and I liked that the characters actually emoted. It wasn’t as generic as I expected and took some risks, even if they didn’t pay off and left it with a reputation of being “too grotesque to be enjoyable”.

I can understand the common criticisms of the gore and body horror being poorly animated, but I won’t decry it for existing and “being ugly”... of course it’s ugly, it’s body horror reminiscent of The Thing from The Thing. (Now would be a good time to warn people not to look this OVA up, unless they are sure they are okay with body horror and gore of this calibre. Tentacles with teeth and spines rip out of people’s skin from the inside and deform their hosts, it is quite awful! I would also include a warning for trypophobia -- there are shots where the mutations form clusters of holes on the skin.) The body horror in Dark Cat being disgusting and making my skin crawl isn’t a fault -- I think it’s the intended purpose. Though I will concede that:

The phallic imagery of the horrific flesh mutations, particularly that of the teacher who attacked Rui, was… bizarre, considering that otherwise the OVA isn’t particularly dark in tone or otherwise sexually graphic.

Perhaps having grotesque body horror is completely unexpected in a story about two bishounen teens (?) who can turn into cats and fight ghosts.

Yes, Dark Cat, the OVA put on Worst Anime Ever lists for being a grotesque spectacle, is just as commonly placed on those lists for being a dumb anime about guys that can transform into house cats and who fight supernatural entities with not so amazing powers. This is a gripe I’ve seen in a few popular reviews, but there was no point during my watching experience that I thought, “Man, these teens are pansies, they don’t even turn into big scary lions or anything! What’s the point, it’s practically a power-down! cinemasins ding” because I don’t go into anime expecting every single male character I see to be Big & Strong & Cool, because I uh… don’t have brain worms I guess? I don’t know what to say about this criticism really, other than people who watch a lot of shounen have very strange hang ups about super powers.

Otherwise, it seems the biggest reason Dark Cat is lauded as One of the Worst -- perhaps even ahead of the silly concept and nauseating gore -- is actually because of the abysmal english dub. It’s my honour to say that I didn’t watch the dub, so it doesn’t factor in at all into my impressions!

So in the end, perhaps my only true gripes with Dark Cat are:

Despite having no particular issue with body horror and gore existing, the extent of destruction and graphic death gave the OVA a bit of a snuff film vibe.

The conclusion to the story was quite bad.

It could be surmised by the brief plot outline I wrote earlier that Dark Cat isn’t a very complicated story. Demons and ghosts exist and wreak havoc on emotionally vulnerable humans, and supernatural soldiers try to mediate between the realms by purifying tortured ghosts and saving those dragged into darkness by evil entities. These beats are common in the supernatural genre of anime, but Dark Cat’s handling of its tragic morality tale left me more confused than anything.

Koizumi didn’t do anything wrong -- he shouldn’t have had to die for the sin of not reciprocating Aimi’s feelings, nor for developing depression after the rejection and death of his classmate and crush. Aimi… did things wrong, but was nevertheless the most compelling character in the OVA. Throughout Aimi was kind, patient, and forgiving when it came to being treated badly by Koizumi. In the finale however, it is revealed that Aimi was the one responsible for Koizumi’s crush’s death, assumedly having murdered her out of jealousy or out of revenge on Koizumi’s behalf for hurting his feelings. Prior to this, the first students to be killed by the tentacle monsters just happened to be the ones that had bullied Koizumi in class earlier that day -- implying that Aimi was getting revenge on them, as well.

It was with these revelations that I started to wonder: Why not just let the flesh monster manifest as a direct result of Aimi’s negative feelings? Aimi confessed to murdering Koizumi’s crush before the events of the OVA -- would she have done so if she wasn’t being influenced by the malignant force set on her by Jukokubo? I feel that her arc would have been much more interesting without the introduction of a non-compelling and badly designed villain like Jukokubo, because then we would know it was all her. Even if she was influenced by forces exacerbating her pre-existing jealousy and rage, that is a more satisfying option than having a big dumb green cat of a villain to trace everything back to so neatly.

And really, what did Jukokubo do in the story beyond take the spotlight, and the blame, from Aimi? He had some previous relation to Hyoi and Rui, but it’s not developed at all, and his ideological rivalry with Hyoi was trivial. Hyoi could have come to the same conclusions about holding out hope for humanity without Jukokubo there to insist he be a guest to debate on his political podcast.

The lack of accountability regarding Aimi is a part of why the resolution to her conflict with Koizumi feels so wrong -- he succumbs to her feelings because he realizes the evil was born from her suffering, and he feels that he has to sacrifice himself to make up for unknowingly hurting her so much that she turned into a monster from hell. In the end she is absolved via being purified and getting to die with her spirit entwined with Koizumi’s, and he apologizes for having not recognized how he was hurting her.

Aimi kills his crush, kills his bullies, and ends up -- inadvertently, at least -- killing almost all of their classmates, because she was tilted about her childhood friend not realizing she had romantic feelings for him. And when Koizumi learns all of this, he apologizes and dies with her, and this is proof of humanity’s goodness? The dark clouds part and the rain stops and Aimi and Koizumi ascend in a heavenly ray of light, because he decided, while she was devouring him, that he was wrong to ignore his murderous best friend’s love for him?

I guess it’s fine -- it was probably mostly Jukokubo’s fault anyway, and everyone was just an unfortunate victim of his meddling… 😒

Other than the bad writing, the string of deaths that happen in the finale when the monster lets loose in the school are quite uncomfortable to behold. Deformed student bodies are splayed and strewn around classrooms, and the bullies are rendered into unrecognizable mounds of pulsating flesh in their homes. The violence of a fight against a monster like this, I can handle, but the graphic images of helpless death were difficult to stomach. And in this OVA, there is no miraculous reversal of the demon’s damage once it is purified -- there is no implication whatsoever that everyone who died isn’t still just as dead as Aimi and Koizumi in the end.

The main thing I was actually worried about when I watched Dark Cat was that there would be sexual assault, thanks to reviewers griping it for “generic hentai tentacles”. I am relieved to say that there is none, at least not insofar as deserving a comparison to actual porn. There is sexual content scattered throughout the horror scenes: The occasionally phallic appearance of the tentacles, shots of the tentacles coming down from under skirts, and there is one shot of nudity when Aimi’s shirt is ripped open as she transforms, though I would say it’s too horrific and ugly to be sexualized or otherwise considered “fanservice”.

What is the point of the hits of sex imagery in Dark Cat? I have no idea. This isn’t Alien, it isn’t about the horror of sexual assault or the violence of creation -- though the main horror of the scene where Rui is ambushed by the teacher seems to be that she uses magic to seduce him, only to reveal a very phallic tentacle from her mouth that she means to kill (or infect…?) him with, which can have multiple, potentially offensive readings… it is a one off, however -- and there doesn’t seem to be any moral posturing about it as is often seen in slashers. I couldn’t parse any sort of consistent STI allegory regarding the plague of tentacles upon the student body, despite how many summaries I have read that describe the tentacles as that, a “plague”.

… I realize I am probably the only person on earth to give any aspect of Dark Cat’s production this much thought. To sum up: It seems to just exist for the shock value. Considering the extent of disgusting imagery already present a la The Gore and Deformation of Human Bodies, I don’t think this OVA benefitted from featuring some explicit looking tendrils, beyond cementing its abhorrent reputation.

Is this all to say that I think Dark Cat is a good OVA? No, of course not. It’s tone deaf, and tasteless, and has awkward pacing and bad writing. But compared to the utterly soulless and artistically devoid works the likes of Skelter Heaven and Mars of Destruction, I would say the fact I was able to write this much about Dark Cat is testament to that fact that it at the very least, contains content -- and some of that content was like, decent! Skelter+Heaven was such a mess it was all I could do to understand the sequence of events, and Mars of Destruction was so bland I literally have no posts about it on the blog despite watching it more than once. Psychic Wars was a snoozefest I barely finished that similarly has no mention on the blog, and Hanoka’s production gimmick couldn’t save it from being a totally forgettable romance story.

Therefore, Dark Cat is the best worst title I have seen thus far, by virtue of being executed with an average amount of competency for an OVA from the early 90s, and for having a balance of good and bad elements that gave me something to hold onto and mull over after viewing.

3/10.

Oh, and I loved the bad 80s insert songs.

#:Dark Cat #dark cat #2138 words later the verdict is. It was ok

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erideights · 5 years

Text

You won't leave me behind so easily.

Request by anon: What would happen if, when Crowley went to the burning bookshop looking for Aziraphale, he instead found Y/N?

Pairing: Crowley x Fem!Reader (Good Omens)

Word Count: 2072.

Warnings: Mentions of fire, I guess. And maybe a typo, I'm sorry.

Everything happened so fast.

Before anyone could really react.

The days until the prominent arrival of the end of the world were less and less and progressing faster, suffocating the throats of those few who knew about the great event and who, at all costs, tried to get out of it alive.

There was no way to stop it, Crowley thought.

There must be something we can do, Aziraphale argued in his head.

And Y/N? She was one more human, a victim of crossfire, with more knowledge than she could ever accept about the events to come and how her life would end in not that many hours.

The clock was running and she felt stuck, lost, drowned by the great plan that showed little mercy to her existence.

That the angel and the demon were now mad at each other because of their argument of how to proceed not too long ago did nothing to help in this apocalyptic scenario; it made things worse, divided the team of three, thus diminishing their hopes not only for saving the world, but for saving themselves.

And again, Y/N was only human...what could she do but watch everything happen and feel an oppressive impotence in her chest that made it difficult for her to breathe with each beat of her heart?

The scene in which Crowley and Aziraphale argued was playing over and over again in her head as she walked nervously and anxiously through the living room of her apartment, looking for a way to solve things with the few —small, minimal, null— resources that she had.

What could she do to make that pair of idiots come to good terms again and seek together how to get out of all that without dying trying?

Not finding the way to flee, because Y/N wasn’t 100% agree with Crowley's plan to go to Alpha Centauri, but the way to save the planet where they lived, as many millions more humans and thousands of animals and plant species that they deserved, in fact, to be able to continue their lives.

Because a war between Hell and Heaven to see who’s stronger? What a fucking joke, they looked like 10 year olds arguing in a school.

———

The characteristic siren of a fire engine sounded in the distance, not too far away, barely audible above Queens's You’re My Best Friend, as a 1933 Bentley moved through the streets of London at such speed anyone could think it defied the laws of physics imposed by the universe.

If only they knew.

The first sign of alarm for the demon was seeing the truck parked right in front of the bookshop that he knew so well thanks to the long afternoons and even longer nights spent there in company of the only two living beings for whom in reality, he would give his life.

The second, were the flames devouring the facade of the building, destroying everything in its path, without mercy for everything that housed its interior, not only physical but emotional. What happened to the laughter accumulated there? With the empty wine glasses and the existential crisis talks?

With his memories?

The third, and this was the trigger that forced Crowley out of his flat and start the car, was to stop feeling the presence of the angel on the face of the earth.

He couldn’t explain it even if he wanted to, he supposed that it was some divine thing beyond his comprehension, but Aziraphale had disappeared from his demonic radar and the idea of the march of his best friend in times of crisis shrank his heart in a fist that only tightened more with every second of the clock.

To suspect that the woman he loved —a frail human prey to the terrible and countless facilities that she had to die— was with the celestial being until his disappearance, made everything worse.

His thoughts were running over each other in panic inside his head as he slammed the passenger door and his quick steps headed for the shop.

A snap of his fingers was enough to open the doors as well as to stop hearing the voices of the firemen trying to get his attention and save him from what would be an imminent death for an ordinary mortal. And once the doors were closed, Crowley's screams and cries for his best friend were muffled by the chaos around him; the wooden beams that supported the place wouldn’t last much longer, the shelves had already begun their fall across the entire floor.

There was no book that could survived that disaster.

Or so he thought before glimpsing from the corner of his eye a large copy whose green cover seemed practically intact, ends slightly scorched but no damage serious enough to give the book for lost.

But then he heard it.

A distant cough, a dull groan, a choked voice asking for help.

Y/N was laying on the floor, sweat coating her forehead and cheeks vaguely tinted with black dust thanks to the ash mixed with the air.

To the naked eye, she didn’t seem to had an ugly burn or a mortal wound that Crowley couldn’t heal with a little demonic miracle of his own, but that didn’t stop him from falling to his knees beside her and hugging her against him, promising once and again that everything would be okay.

She was conscious, but she’d breathed too much smoke to be able to move on her own foot, so regardless of whether her heart had flip in her chest when she saw the mischievous demon that she had fallen in love so hopelessly years ago, because that was the effect he always had on her, she felt relief that it was him who came to save her.

The last thing she could remember before falling into a terrible and suffocating unconsciousness were the golden eyes of the redhead, whose anguish —caused by the events— had flooded them at the verge of tears, and she couldn’t help feeling a sharp pain through her chest escorting her to the most absolute darkness.

———————

‘’Aziraphale?’’ For a moment Crowley thought his tired eyes were playing tricks on him and making him see things that weren’t really there, because a distorted reflection of what he considered his deceased best friend’d appeared out of nowhere in front of him and… that couldn’t be, right? ‘’Are you here?’’

But, contrary to the expected reaction —none under the premise of hallucinations— the demon frowned in confusion when the angel's voice reached his ears. ‘’Good question. Not certain. Never done this before. Can you hear me?’’

‘’Of course I can hear you.’’

‘’Afraid I’ve rather made a mess of things.’’ Aziraphale looked confused, disoriented and, more importantly, pained. Crowley supposed that, in his condition, —whatever it was since he couldn’t understand it—, the angel couldn’t see him; their gaze never crossed, the blue one of the platinum blond lost somewhere in the ceiling. ‘’Did you go to Alpha Centauri?’’

‘’Nah, I changed my mind. Stuff happened. I lost my best friend. And I... nearly lost her too.’’ Unconsciously, the demon's hand squeezed softly the one intertwined with his, although she probably wouldn’t feel it. In that moment, the redhead's peculiar eyes traveled to the calm face of the young girl, asleep and at peace in his bed; the damage she received wasn’t serious enough to feel the need to be taken to a hospital, it was rather obvious that he would end up taking care of her.

He wanted to.

‘’Her?’’ The angel looked even more confused for a split second, eyes widened and voice soaked in horror at the sudden realisation of the person they were talking about. ‘’Oh, wait, you mean Y/N? Did something happen to her? Please do tell me she’s okay.’’

‘’Your bookshop. It burned down. She was there.’’

His bookshop? Burned down? Reduced to ashes ...? He would ask, but his concern was not especially focused on one place, but on ‘’Did she? But I thought… I thought she was with you—’’

‘’She wasn’t.’’ Crowley cut off quickly, a bit annoyed with his lack of knowledge about the whereabouts of the girl before finding her where he found her; he supposed that both had been so focused with the whole ''end of the world'' thing that, after the argument between him and the angel, when the three seemed divided by different urges, none cared about the only living being that, by her own, couldn’t escape. ‘’But don’t worry, Y/N’s here and she’s fine. She’s the strongest human I know, she’ll be okay.’’

And so the conversation between the two went on, the revelation of Aziraphale about where the end of time would begin, his relief knowing that his friend also rescued Agnes' book —that would give them a chance to save them all— and the promise of meeting there once the angel found a new body.

And in the same way he had appeared a few mins ago, he disappeared, returning the silence to the dark room of the fallen angel, who was in a heart dilemma; he couldn’t leave Y/N alone, not when he didn’t know for sure if he would see her again. But take her with him, in her state, and to such an extremely dangerous situation?

What he didn’t know either, was that the girl had been awake for a while, listening partially and in pieces his conversation with Aziraphale because, unfortunately, she wasn’t a celestial being, she couldn’t catch the presence of her white winged friend, but she did catch enough to know that she needed to ignore the faint pain that his body had and go with them to save the damn world.

So when Crowley sighed again, still shuffling his options, she sat up in bed without warning, causing her favorite demon to slightly jump in his seat in the chair next to the mattress.

‘’C’mon,’’ she said with much more vitality than one could expect, her voice stressing her impatience, for there was no time to lose. ‘’we need to go.’’

‘’We?’’ He asked, incredulous, snorting a bitter and dry chuckle from the deepest point of his throat. ‘’You’re not going anywhere.’’

‘’And will you be the one to stop me?’’ God, he was helplessly in love with that woman who only knew how to make snarky and sassy remarks when she wanted to piss him off. Was he a masochist or something?

But deep in thought, adoration written all over his face, he didn’t get the chance to really stop her until she was out of bed and heading towards the door of the flat down the corridor full of plants that, at Crowley's sight with that look of pure rage on his face, began to tremble.

Holy shit, she was fast.

‘’Y/N, for fuck’s sake,’’ he grabbed her left wrist and spinned her around, making the girl look at him straight in the face. To prove his point and try to intimidate her with his annoyed expression? Maybe. ‘’You don’t really have any kind of preservation instinct for your own life, do you? Don’t you know how dangerous it is?’’

But instead of being afraid of him, being the good girl he expected her to be and agreeing to stay away from all that, Y/N slipped out of his grasp, searching quickly for the lapels of Crowley's jacket. In a second she pulled these towards her own body to counteract the immense height difference and trapped his parted lips in a passionate kiss.

Oh, she wanted to do that for a long time now.

For a brief instant, Crowley was completely frozen, unaware that his feelings were indeed returned and of course, the moment in which he wanted to kiss her back and searched for the hips of the girl to bring her closer to him, she pulled back and fixed her deep eyes on the golden ones of the demon.

‘’We're leaving, both of us. And don’t you dare try to stop me, Crowley, I won’t leave you.’’

#good omens #good omens prime #crowley #crowley x reader #ineffable husbands #good omens one shots #crowley good omens #crowley x fem!reader

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syderia · 7 years

Text

Making Bargains

@madasakuweek

Rated: T

Genre: Fantasy

Warnings: Extremely brief mentions of alcohol and death.

Sakura glided into the room on shaky legs, her heels clicking against the floor with every step. Roiling clouds of smoke choked the air, allowing the bitter scent of ash and regret to linger in Sakura’s lungs. Despite the fancy wall sconces, low hanging chandeliers, and polished teakwood flooring, the bar attracted a miserable sort of clientele—ones who preferred finding happiness in the bottom of a bottle and didn’t have any plans beyond the night. Drunken ramblings of lost riches, bridges burned, and wasted potential tainted the atmosphere. Patrons draped themselves over their tables and clung to empty glasses.

Misery attracted misery, Sakura supposed, and this bar reeked of it.

Unfortunately, she counted herself among the ‘miserable’ souls of the bar. Desperation burned her blood. Her fingers trembled with each heartbeat. She felt like a volatile hurricane trapped in human skin, but her face remained placid. She refused to shatter like everyone else around her.

Sakura grew up in a small town steeped in superstition, myths, and decaying tradition. Her parents cautioned her not to sneak into the forest beyond the backyard on the night of full moons. Tales of horror became her childhood bedtime stories. She learned to avoid lingering too closely to darkened booths in dimly lit restaurants.

However, with each year, the older generation died and left a younger generation to fill their shoes. Respecting old myths slowly became less important than it once was. On humid mid-summer afternoons, Naruto and Sasuke, restless in the incessant heat, joked about sticking it to stuffy elders and summoning Bloody Mary or the terrible Rabbit Goddess. Even Ino jokingly warned her about carelessly invoking the name of foul eldritch monsters.

“Be careful, or Pein’ll sneak up behind you and capture your soul,” Ino cackled after Sakura had stubbed her toe on a rock and promptly cussed using the god’s name.

The hushed warnings burrowed into her mind, present but forgotten, until a thin man with ringed eyes appeared before her, proclaiming himself to be a god. Naruto’s and Sasuke’s rapidly cooling bodies laid lifeless at her feet as payment for messing with magics beyond their comprehension. Shaking in the face of the indifferent god, Sakura forced herself to speak, to fix the mess they made. She pleaded with Pein to return souls, but everything had a price.

Hers was far too steep.

Sakura’s eyes slid to a booth in the far corner where the warm light of the wall sconces couldn’t reach. An icy chill ran down her spine and suffused her bones. Despite a decent-sized crowd, patrons peppered the tables and stools far away from the darkened booth. On a primal level rooted in self preservation, every patron unconsciously avoided this corner.

Between one blink and the next, a mass of shadow solidified into the large form of a man leaning into the booth’s upholstered cushions. A wineglass dangled from his pale, slender fingers, sloshing blood-red wine with every twitch of his wrist. Raven’s feather hair cascaded down his broad shoulders in unruly spikes. As Sakura neared the booth, his coal eyes—so cold, so deep, so dark, and so, so inhuman—met hers above the glass’s rim. Sakura slid into the seat across from him.

“Lovely night, isn’t it?” He drew a deep breath, inhaling heady scent of wine and smoke. When he exhaled, his lips quirked into a malicious tooth-filled smirk. Something ancient and lurked in his eyes, and it reminded Sakura of Pein. “The wine here always seems a bit flat to me, but the misery here tastes delightful.”

His eyes flashed crimson and he took a long, slow sip of wine.

“Are you Madara?” Sakura asked. She gathered the determination in her heart to warm it against the cold chill of fear. Fear had no place in a conversation with him—for all that he looked like a man, Sakura knew he wasn’t remotely human. He would pray on her weaknesses and eat her alive.

“I am. You caused quite a stir.” His expression shifted and he looked curious. “I wonder how you convinced Pein to let go of two souls. He’s quite the rule-abider.”

Sakura hesitated. “I made a bargain.”

Madara snorted. He made the the crude action seem elegant and, for a brief moment, Sakura felt a pang of envy. “Obviously. I can tell; your soul radiates taint. So, how many months did he give you to live? Two? Three?”

“One.”

Sakura could tell curiosity still ate at his thoughts—what did she, a mortal, say to influence a god?— but when he began to swirl his wineglass, she knew he would let the question drop. For now.

“Delightful. But what are you doing here?” His eyes darted to a man draped over the bar’s marble counter. The man clutched his shot glass and lamented his woes to an indifferent bartender. “Unless you came to pester me and drink your borrowed time away?”

Finally, the crux of the visit. Sakura stoked the fire in her heart and gathered more confidence than she felt she had. She needed to find the strength again to be the girl who somehow stared down a god. Hopefully, Madara wouldn’t see through her facade.

“You are going to make a bargain with me,” she stated.

Madara arched a dark eyebrow and sneered. “Ah, but you sought me out. Usually, when you make bargains, you need to offer something valuable to the other party. Your cursed soul is worth less than dirt—unless you have something else to offer?” He returned his attention back to his wine glass. His dismissal stung and if Sakura didn’t have a bargaining chip, her fiery determination would have swelled into a raging inferno of anger.

“What about this?” She reached into her purse and threw necklace on the table between them. The small green crystal hit the polished wood with a muted thunk.

Madara’s spine straightened, his face contorting into something inhuman and cold. In the dim booth corner, the shadows writhed and stretched. Sakura tasted sweet, smoky misery on her tongue. “That’s Hashirama’s necklace.” Crimson eyes rose to meet hers. Sakura saw just the faintest stirrings of intrigue twisting his features. Hook. “Where did you get that?”

He set down his wine glass and reached for the necklace, but Sakura yanked it back. She clutched it to her heart, feeling a seed of hope beginning to take root. “You can’t touch it until you agree to help me.”

“Why should I help you?” He sounded indifferent, but Sakura noticed him steal glances at her cupped hands. She had already hooked him, drawn a smidgeon of interest. Now was the time to be audacious and pray she didn’t get burned.

“Why not? We’re only doing a small favor for Pein.” Sakura paused. “Unless you don’t think you can handle a task Pein assigned a mortal?” Line.

Madara picked up his wineglass and downed it in one gulp. When the empty glass clicked against the table, a grin stretched across his face. “I suppose there isn’t anything else currently occupying my time,” he said. For the first time, Sakura watched excitement burn in his eyes. “Dearest Sakura,” he purred, “I feel like this will be an interesting partnership.”

And, for some inexplicable reason, Sakura felt the same sentiment. Sinker.

#madasakuweek #madasaku weekend #madasaku #madara uchiha #sakura haruno #a bit darker in the beginning than i intended #oh well

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killprettymagazine · 7 years

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Never Again - An Edible Marijuana Horror Story

“Never again” is a phrase that you should utter with decreasing frequency as you mature: You should learn from your mistakes. When you’re a kid, the world is full of sparkly phenomena, and you have not yet accrued enough disappointments to employ skepticism in investigating the seemingly endless sources of sparkle. When you’re nine-years-old, for instance, you may not have yet learned that candied apples are detestable pieces of shit. Imagine a giant apple that you can hold on a stick, like a king with a goddamned scepter, encapsulated by a reflective deep red coating. Just the sound it must make when you bite into it, that crunch – you’re left with no choice but to force your parent or legal guardian to buy you one. Then you try one. It turns out that you can’t eat this magical apple like you would a regular apple, expecting each bite to be covered by a proportionate coating of candy, because hard candy doesn’t break like that; it shatters into many hostile shards of candy that annihilate your teeth. It turns out, shards. It turns out that if you wanted to, you could theoretically break the apple and use it as a fucking weapon. And all that work and torture went into unearthing the most flavorless, soul-crushing apple variety: A Granny Smith. Is it any wonder that so many of us develop trust issues as adults?

Sometimes, after experiencing a never again situation, you’re struck by a wave of amnesia and get pushed back into a neutral pre-trauma state. Unfortunately, when this happens, the universe is burdened with the task of correcting you in a more memorable manner.

A few months ago, I suffered a bout of this type of amnesia during an ill-fated trip to a pot dispensary. While there, I was brazen enough to pose the question, “Why don’t I ever get edibles when I shop here?”

(As a side note, yes, I used the word “shop” in this context: While I am an avid believer in the medicinal benefits of pot, whose properties are vastly complex, visiting a dispensary sure doesn’t feel very medically official. You’d be hard-pressed to find a medication called “Alaskan Thunderfuck” at a conventional pharmacy).

After interacting with the budtender at the dispensary - whose white lab coat, long Zen master’s beard and cosmic presence made me feel like I was talking to God - I got home and prepared for an epic night. I purchased a ribeye that was so beautiful that I felt like I should apologize to it for the mess in my kitchen. I was going to cook it sous vide at 130 degrees and then sear it to perfection in clarified butter. Coltrane’s Giant Steps. 16-year-old single malt Macallan. Porn, probably. I ate half of one of the grown-up lozenges that I procured and risky-business’ed my way into the shower.

As I dried off with a towel, I felt the first signs of tingling in my toes; a very welcome sensation. About 20 minutes later, as I was tinkering with the immersion circulator, I still only felt the tingling. “Shouldn’t I be giggling by now?” I wondered, “I’m preparing a bath for a steak while wearing a robe and I have a mustache. I look like I’m about to fuck this steak.” But my high seemed to be reaching stasis and I was not about to settle for the smooth jazz of evenings after dropping $25 on a single piece of meat. I popped the other half of the lozenge in my mouth and proceeded with my grooming routine as the steak-bath reached temperature.

By the time the immersion circulator reached 130 degrees, a smile appeared on my face. “That’s more like it,” I thought, “now I can honor the bull that was sacrificed for this evening appropriately.” I would have never guessed that the next five hours of my life would consist of scrotum-gripping dread.

The first signs of trouble appeared as I removed the steak from the butcher paper in preparation for its bath. I unwrapped the packet and stared in horror at the practically pulsating piece of flesh that I was about to consume. I must have stared at the thing for the better part of five minutes. “Oh, Christ,” I thought, “Not again. I’ve already been through this – I’m not going to become a vegetarian.” But I could not tolerate the idea of eating this steak so I wrapped it back up and returned it to the fridge, where I hoped it would be safe from whatever awful force was possessing me. I opted for a couple of potatoes that I “baked” in the microwave.

As the potatoes cooked, which could have occupied anywhere from a few minutes to several weeks, I noticed that I could feel my heart beating in my chest without touching it. “Does it always do that?” I wondered. Suddenly concerned, I elected to take my own pulse; I placed my index and middle fingers on my wrist and started counting. I kept losing my place and had to start over, again and again, which it turned out did not help my anxiety. But I’m not a quitter; I would take my own pulse come hell or high water. As I counted, it occurred to me that I had no clue about what constituted a normal or an abnormal pulse. “Who do I think I am,” I thought, “a fucking doctor?” But I continued to count for some reason. My efforts were then interrupted by a heinously loud siren, which catapulted me out of my kitchen chair. “JESUS CHRIST!” I exclaimed. I no longer had to check my pulse; I knew that it was off the charts at this point. I was on the verge of weeping from fear – then I realized that my potatoes were done.

I opened the microwave door to retrieve my potatoes, which now resembled the wrinkly testicles of a 90-year-old, and realized that I did not have enough saliva in my mouth to move my tongue, let alone to eat potatoes – the driest of root vegetables. I shut the door, imprisoning the potatoes in the microwave. It was time to lie down.

“This lozenge is very, very mellow,” the budtender at the dispensary said. “You’ll hardly notice that you’re high,” he said. “One might not even be enough for you,” he said. As the second half of the lozenge high-fived the first that was already reclining in a La-Z-Boy somewhere in my amygdala, I fantasized about finding that budtender, yanking him by his wizard’s beard and screaming, “IS THIS WHAT YOU MEANT BY ‘VERY, VERY MELLOW,’ YOU FECKLESS TURD?” I wanted to strap him into a “good vibe” equivalent of an electric chair and pump him with the strongest possible current of good vibes until he exploded into a supernova of ineffectuality. Because I wasn’t mellow, I was going to die. I’m not using the phrase “going to die” to indicate that I was in any actual danger, nor in a histrionic Morrissey sense (…and you go home and you cry and you want to die). No, as far as I knew, I was dying.

I’ve danced around the rainbow of anxiety experiences in my life, including several shades located in the “bad pot trip” wavelength. Most pot anxiety I’ve experienced, while often terrible, is usually short-lived: You smoke, the effects come on and intensify rapidly, you panic, you take a benzodiazepine (at least if you’re me) and 15 minutes later you’re back to watching cat videos on YouTube and eating pretzels. Easy as pie. This, on the other hand, was like some archaic form of corporal punishment – like being chained to a giant rock and then pushed off a cliff into the sea.

I was now curled up in the fetal position on my bed, my whole body trembling violently; I was a six-foot vibrator. “W-w-when will it stop?” I might have said out loud. The Ativan wasn’t working. It occurred to me that I had no idea how much time had elapsed since I had placed the tiny pill under my tongue so I grabbed a small alarm clock that was on my nightstand and placed it right in front of my face on the opposite pillow. It looked like the clock and I had just finished making love. Then I realized that tracking time might not be such a great idea so I buried the clock under the covers and proceeded with my trembling regimen.

At this point, my anxiety was so severe that my perception of reality started to waver; I felt like I was in a movie or a dream. I was so scared that nothing around me seemed real and, every time I thought my fear could not become any more severe, I was proven wrong. “Aren’t I supposed to be enlightened by now?” I wondered. I was hitherto under the impression that if I would experience a state of fear that was adequately extreme, I would ultimately be led into a state of oceanic tranquility and be one with the cosmos. “That Alan Watts didn’t know what the fuck he was talking about!” I thought.

It was now 1:23 AM according to the clock that I hid under the covers. My anxiety was not letting up and I was hallucinating. I needed to talk to someone, preferably a human. I needed to hear something other than my auditory hallucinations or the sound of my absurdly dry “NPR” mouth, the latter of which was really starting to grate on my nerves. I didn’t want to call any relatives because I was worried about being chided for my weed blunder. I called one of my friends but he was busy. Then I suddenly remembered a recent conversation with another friend who, upon learning that I was going through a bad breakup, made the mistake of telling me that I could call him whenever I wanted if I needed to talk.

“Did I wake you?” I asked. “Umm, no,” he groaned in response. “Yes, I did.” Silence. “I’m having the worst anxiety attack I’ve ever had. I’m gonna die.” “You’re not going to die. Just breathe.” The conversation consisted mainly of me proclaiming that I was going to die and my friend telling me that I was not dying. He eventually tried to distract me by transitioning to other subjects but I could not focus on what he was saying. At one point, it occurred to me that he was talking about Jeff Goldblum for a reason that was beyond my comprehension to such an extent that I considered taking another Ativan. If I was going to die, I really hoped that my last conversation would not be about Jeff Goldblum.

After about 40 minutes on the phone, multiple references to Jeff Goldblum and several hundred “I’m gonna die’s,” I felt an internal release. Finally, after about five hours of swimming through the rectum of the psychedelic spectrum, I was free. I suddenly realized that my friend was still talking. Eventually, noting my silence he asked, “You doing better?” “I think so,” I said, “I’m starving now.” I remembered that I still had those delicious wrinkled potatoes. While cradling the phone on my shoulder, I walked over to the kitchen and opened the microwave door. The potatoes looked like Guantanamo Bay detainees. I suddenly remembered Obama’s quote, “…under my administration the United States does not torture” and started laughing maniacally. I couldn’t breathe. I tried to share this thought with my friend. “I’m going to sleep,” he responded. I continued laughing when I got off the phone. I ate the potatoes and went to sleep, occasionally bursting into laughter in the dark.

The next day I woke up and treated myself to a ribeye breakfast. As I chewed the steak, I reflected on the events of the previous evening and wondered, “Was that a valuable experience?” I concluded that it might have been but only in the crudest sense. It would be like saying that the experience of intentionally hitting yourself in the balls was a valuable experience because it taught you not to do that. Would you really have to be doubled in pain to figure that one out? Still, I can say with gusto that I would sooner wipe my ass with a cactus than ever ingest another edible. Never, ever again.

#edible #marijuana #horror #axiety #funny

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jones573 · 7 years

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the following is a list of characters who appear in the ‘St. George’s’ RP saga (even tho they havent been at St George’s in like, a long time, shush, details).

characters with an ‘r’ are played by reynarda , with a ‘t’ by tsukasakadoya, and with a ‘j’ by me, still_jones573 .

some characters do not really belong to anyone and are just there, or have only been mentioned by certain characters that DO belong to someone but said character isnt really being ‘played’ by anyone because they havent appeared, you know.

The Gang: aka the primary characters, they all currently live together in a townhouse owned by Vlad & Bram

(r) Vladimir Drakoni: Full vampire, born in like the 1400′s?, has a long-standing feud with the Council Chair, Claudios Von Batts. His family was removed from the Council, but he is still pretty involved in their business, cuz he’s nosy and doesnt trust them. Magically tied to Bram by things beyond comprehension, and has after many decades, gotten used to it and they’ve even been able to harness the power of friendship, to the horror of their enemies everywhere. Is short (at least enough that Bram likes to tease him for it), has dark hair (?)

(r) Abraham Lluewen (??sp?): Human, born in like the 1400′s to the family of hunters that created ‘silverblood’, a liquid silver that is particularly dangerous to vampires. Has worked for and with the Hunter’s Guild over the years, most recently as the head of St. George’s (a monster-hunting school, basically), though is now on ‘parental leave’. Along with Vlad, has a tendency to get into dangerous situation, and also to collect sad magical children and make sure they eat their veggies. Is the tallest member of the Gang, has red hair

(r) Devon Von Batts: Claudios’ son, lived with his human mother until she died when he was a preteen. Stuff happened, he went to juvie, Von Batts Sr. found out he had a son and asked Vlad to pretty please deal with that. Devon lived as Claudios’s son for a few years, having previously been ‘privately tutored’ or whatever. Was part of the plot to infiltrate St. George’s school with young vampire spies, but a lot of stuff happened, he got a bit stabby, things went south, etc. Is now in the care of Vlad and Bram. Recently got his fangs! Has blonde hair, is tall but not quite as tall as his sister (tho this could be because she has a soldier’s posture, and her skininess makes her seem even taller than she is)

(j) Winona Von Batts: Kidnapped from her human mother at birth, raised by creepy vampires who were obsessed with creating a perfect weapon, though they had many and often contradictory ideas about how that should be done. Basically, it really sucked. She eventually killed her ‘family’ when they tried to force her into killing young human girls and drinking their blood, and was picked up by the Guild. Was not exactly communicative, so she ended up at St George’s. lots of stuff happened, now she lives with Bram and Vlad. I think outside the townhouse gang, no one knows (or should know) that she and devon are, in fact, only half vampires. winona is quite tall, and muscular in a way that suggests she was encouraged to exercise frequently but had poor nutrition, tho that has likely been getting less obvious over the last few months. she has brownish stubble across her scalp that might prove to be lighter if it grew out some, but she scratches herself and rips at her head when she’s nervous or often while sleeping, so her head stays buzzed and her nails short.

(t) May Garrison: Quite possibly the destruction of the world is small, adorable human form. a sacred magical ritual on an island went wrong, and the resulting magical baby was taken home by bill garrison who likely did not realize the next 20 years would be spent thinking ‘i was just being a good person, why does magic exist’ may eventually left his island home, and met gabriel, who tasked him with (???? i honestly dont remember the specifics) being at st georges on a plot-heavy day. the aforementioned stuff happened, and tho the Council was reluctant to deal with WInona themselves they also DID not want to just let Vlad have her, so May volunteered his services as a neutral party that would report on Winona’s progress. Is asexual, uses magic through precious gems and stones, likes pineapple on his pizza to the dismay of many. the shortest member of the gang by far (he’s like 5′1″? 5′2″?), i think he’s blonde?, and he wears a lot of very bright outfits

(j) Alex Moraes: Full vampire, from standardly rich and powerful family. Grew up living on the Yates plantation, going to fancy boarding schools, alternatively learning ball room dance and financial investment strategies, visiting the Moraes home in the Andes, etc, etc. Feels a LOT of pressure to be a perfect son and heir, in the human and vampiric traditions, tho honestly he could probably relax about that, as he is already doing WAY better than his parents were at his age. Is gay and closeted and has a lot of conflicting feelings about that, also has an enormous crush on May that is obvious to everyone but may. Is growing his hair out because he wants to have a stylish mane like his father, and because he no longer goes to a boarding school that forbids that sort of thing. maybe also because sometimes may admires it, but im sure thats just convenient

The Legal Team: aka other important people that show up and do stuff, mostly covering everybody’s ass even tho they themselves are kinda an ass

(t) Gabriel Last Name?: Vampire (presumably full, as his family used to have a Council seat), lawyer, May’s employer and friend. Has his fingers in many pots as it were, perhaps not all entirely legal. Bad blood between him and his brother Chris, who absconded with all the family’s wealth and hasnt been heard from since (many many years ago- at least 20 or 30?). Not really the most warm and generous seeming of people, but has come through for the gang. Most notably, he was their legal representation in the case of ‘yall dont really want this dangerous vampire child who might kill you while you sleep, why dont you give her to bram and vlad while you clutch at your pearls and pretend you care about atrocities committed on your watch mkay?’ he and his boyfriends (denatro, a full werewolf and Locke, a bitten vamp) came to the townhouse for an awkward yet hilarious yet terrible christmas dinner. has red hair, generally dresses himself in a corporate fashion

(j) Maria Moraes: full vampire, Council member, member of indigenous population based in the Andes mountains that no longer exists any more, trans woman, also born in like the 1400s (honestly i forgot??), alex’s other mother but that is known to like, three people. a shrewd and savvy businesswoman, Maria is a no nonsense lady who is very unimpressed with the amount of nonsense alex has recently gotten into. but also sees the value of having Von Batts in her debt, and allying herself with Vlad and Bram, as well as Winona- she doesnt like wild cards, but she’d rather they be in her hand than loose in the deck, as it were. she secured the votes of other councillors for the ‘vlad gets winona and devon’ plan, and is apparently quite comfortable manipulating her colleagues. she has many business and political connections in the human world as well, as she does not subscribe to the isolationist theory many old supernatural beings prefer. in a not-serious-but-maybe-serious relationship with Mags, a werewolf gal from Deno’s pack. practices magic, but more like ‘spells’ and potions than the abilities Vlad has. can turn herself into a hawk, which is quite useful as she hates mechanized transportation

The Extended Fam & Friends: aka some more people that the Gang is fond of

(t) Bill Garrison: May’s adopted father, a very patient but bewildered man. His family, especially his parents are well respected in the community, which allowed him a bit more flexibility in the ‘adopting this random and potentially dangerous baby’ thing. handyman and builder

(t) Henri LastName: May’s best friend and confidante. Is a ‘guardian’ (i think that’s what they are called? basically, she’s involved with the giant world eating snake thing their island has going on, though she seems much more friendly with May than the others in her position). A take-no-shit lady, sells fish, i dont think she gets along with her mother? rocks a nice suit

(j) Matt Moraes: Alex’s ‘father’, Maria’s older brother, married to Annabelle. Enjoys art perhaps a little too much, as he seems to have taken the ‘my wife and sister can do as they please so long as im not interrupted from this project’ and honestly, they have some /dangerous/ projects that could use somebody willing to stand up to them. But generally, a kind man who has a good life- his marriage to annabelle is primarily a political one (they’re both gay), but they get along well enough in public that few would suspect they aren’t genuine. also, absurdly handsome. has a great beard and great hair, College Professor Hot™

(j) Annabelle Yates: full vampire heidi klum. elle woods disposition and charm, the manners of a southern belle, but also a cross between iago and mrs. bennet- she loves to know everybody’s business and she LOVES to be involved in it. not necessarily ill-intentioned in her manipulations, but manipulative nonetheless. has dabbled in most of the potentially high-profile ‘socialite careers’, tho right now is mostly focused on cooking and catering (but goodness knows that could change on a whim). she makes it a point to always look put together and have control over any situation, but she is incredibly protective of alex. loves parties, loves being adored, loves being right. has been known to flaunt whichever lingerie model she’s been seeing at maria, her ex, in attempts to make her jealous. does not actively practice magic, as her family has the rather unfortunate predisposition to go mad with power lust in their obsession to acquire more and more dangerous magics. has long, bright red hair and a smile a dentist would love to use in advertisements. (also, is maybe pregnant! this was going to alluded to more heavily in a thing i will hopefully eventually post that explored matt’s relationship to his family, but i was having difficulty with the dialogue and abandoned it for the time being, so)

(t) Denatro LastName: Deno, full werewolf, son of his pack’s previous alpha and younger brother to the current one, but has not been ‘home’ in years. his dad was an asshole that made him feel like having had a complicated birth (has only one eye, usually wears a patch over it in human form) was somehow in his control and thus his fault his mother died. Married to Locke, and the two are dating Gabriel. Deno is somewhat grumpy, not keen on people or tidiness or many other things besides. His wolf form is on the smaller side for a werewolf, but he’s faster and nimbler for it (i think he has black fur? and a very good nose?) annabelle thinks his butt looks nice in his suit, deno thinks wearing suits should be outlawed. has tried to eat a cat at least once.

(t) Locke Smith: owns a gas station with Deno in canada, bitten vampire, that’s not his real name (i mean, at least none of the Moraes-Yates gangs are still going by their original names, so he’s fine). Got into some real awful shit with some vampires when he was younger and had to kill his sister after she got violent, first met gabriel as his lawyer. eventually took up hunting, met and started dating Deno, got bitten at some point, got married at some point. reconnected with gabriel, they started seeing each other. like deno, is not keen on socializing, but is far more patient and polite about it. seems to wear a lot of turtlenecks

Ye Olde Baddies: people the gang dislike and/or have to fight against or are just generally suspicious

(r) Claudios Von Batts: Council Chair and leader, full vampire, full trash bag. i keep wanting to sympathize with him, but R assures me not to bother. slept with a human woman (the indignity! for a respectable vampire anyways) after his vampire wife died, obviously did NOT follow up. feels comfortable enough going to vlad when he needs help with child custody stuff, but also is cool with kidnapping and torturing vlad, so. power amongst the councillors and the supernatural community in general have been shifting, and Von Batts wishes to hold onto his at all costs. Is blond, is paranoid, lives alone in his huge mansion (maybe he listens to phantom of the opera as he swoops around? who knows)

Gautier: i almost forgot about him? full vampire, Council member, french dude. generally, a grade A creep. likes to ‘collect’ things (people, lbr). Assumedly connected to and even employing Rawe, and perhaps behind the kidnapping attack on May. i described him as looking older and ugly, but at times ive also implied vampires can influence their appearances, so who know. maybe he likes looking a guy colbert would make fun of

DeLuna: another random council member? wants von batt’s power for herself, seems suspicious of the commonly held belief that the twins were his late wife’s children. had her car stolen by May and Winona.

(j) Jack: cosmic entity charged with making sure sentient life doesn’t magic itself out of existence on accident. why Maria and Matt are the only remaining members of their civilization, gained the ability to posses a human body after helping merlin out, and now just hangs around on earth sometimes, eating food and enjoying carnal delights, etc. has become fond of Matt over the centuries they been sharing the second, but is unlikely to admit it. is absolutely enthralled by the prospect of May, and was invited to the New Years party in an effort by annabelle to satisfy jack’s curiosity without exposing may to much danger. is currently inhabiting the body of a dutch coma patient, and sorta looks like a man who hasnt left a hospital bed in years- very grayish skin, limp black hair, creepy eyes

dr rawe: .... a boogey-man, magic scientist dude? we needed to shake stuff up with some drama, so i created him to kidnap May and then came up with the explanation for what he was later on, dont judge. at any rate he’s dead now, having been quite injured by the gang and then eaten by jack

party goers: people at Annabelle’s primarily-human New Year’s Day party that the gang and others are interacting with

(j) Ilhan: human, Alex’s friend from prep school who is currently studying at MIT. Also, his girlfriend- the relationship was always a bit of an intentional ruse, but Alex has never actually talked to her about it, and probably should. I suspect that she genuinely does like him and would be hurt if he admitted that he has no interest in her, but probably not surprised. is wearing a white hijab and a long dress with galaxies across it

(j) gavin LastName: human, son of the fictional texas governor. a real asshole. he and alex dated secretly for awhile, under the pretense that gavin would be ostrasized and disowned if he came out, and became very manipulative of alex. it eventually became clear that gavin was largely just using alex for his own means, mutual friend Ilhan got real damn angry and things went south. gavin is... bitter about this. i keep trying to sympathize with gavin and give him more complex motivations (there are lots of people who cannot come out and that is valid! it is not inherently abusive to ask your partner to keep your relationship private! -things that i think and also alex probably thinks when he frets about it and wonders that maybe he /was/ in the wrong, no matter what ilhan claims) but honestly hes just a superficial high school jock villain and it can probably be left at that

(j) Chris Yates: i gotta rename him because there are only so many red haired characters that can have a brother named chris, but he’s annabelle’s younger half brother and runs their security firm. (they freelance with the mob, they are NOT the mob, its different) a decent dude, though was a stereotypical ‘big brother’ to alex growing up- as in, he was WAY cooler to hang out with than alex’s parents, but also likely to tell him scary stories and encourage him to do dangerous things that annabelle would have absolutely forbidden. i got some other backstory on him with the Yates family and the civil war and all that stuff, but basically he was very useful when annabelle exerted herself as head of the Yates family (i dont wanna say he shot folks who disagreed with her, but thats pretty much what happened)

annabelle’s ‘family’: yall i keep meaning to post something meaningful about the ‘cousins’ but basically its a large collection of full vampires and bitten vampires and a few in-the-know humans who were brought in as significant others but didnt want to be bitten. its not exactly ‘Council approved’, but they’re basically a coven of vampire rednecks and muscle thugs and the council was like ‘if we recognize the Moraes-Yates marriage and give Moraes a council seat then we have power over Annabelle and by extension her coven, without actually having to directly interact with her coven, soooo’ Technically Maria is ‘head of the family’ in the ways that matter for vampire law, but to the cousins, Annabelle is head of the family in the ways that /actually/ matter, and in the ways recognized by the old magics of the yates matriarchs. she keeps them out of trouble, disciplines them as needed, and the Council generally gets to sleep sounder at night knowing that at least things are much better than they were before annabelle took charge (and killed and exiled a good portion of said trouble-causing family, but thats another thing!)

Assorted Side Characters: aka people who i forgot to mention or didnt have a category

(r) the vampire doctor lady whose name i forgot: she’s friends with Vlad and gets away with because the supernatural community is pretty shit about medical research and the Council can’t really afford to alienate the world’s best (and only) expert on vampire health and wellbeing. probably one of vlad’s inside eyes and ears on the Council, has been treating Winona to recover use of her voice

nora: winona’s primary care-giver until she was maybe seven or so, and protected her from some of the abuse of the others. was presumably killed by the others in the coven, but if we ever need a new plot idea, nora can definitely be alive. though goodness knows if she really cared for winona or was just another manipulative sicko, so i supposed i would have to figure that out

victoria: a mysterious lady that Bram used to date, much to the displeasure (and detriment, it seems) of Vlad. Possibly why Vlad is so against Bram dating in the present

the folks on the island: May’s community is something of another mystery- Henri and Bill, at least, are very much on May’s ‘side’ as it were, but it seems that sentiment is not widely embraced, and there may be some who are anxious for May to die young, as has been predicted

(j) FirstName Domagala: aka ‘Mags’, a werewolf from Deno’s pack. She is older than him (maybe 5, 7 years? idk) and is also in a somewhat self-imposed exile, tho the details of that are unknown to us (aka i havent decided) and she formally left the pack several years after Deno had. She initially left to study medicine (surgery, specifically), but in recent years her seizures (which she used to only get after transforming) have forced her out of practice. is ‘seeing’ Maria, and weirdly enough, it seems to be approaching a ‘real relationship’, tho who knows. her parents were well respected and loved, her father being deno’s father’s best friend. she DEF killed him. it should be noted that Mags has several variations and though Werewolf Mags is certainly not warm and personable, she is a LOT nicer than Apocalypse Mags and Mutant Mags.

sara weaver, greg parker, some other gal whose name i dont remember: the other kids in this generations vampiric baby boom. greg was the youngest by a few years, and real shy and nervous i think? and sara and alex have always been friends in the same way you might be friends with the kids of your parents college friends that you see once or twice a year- you get along and enjoy catching up, but outside of that connection, you dont make a lot of effort into maintaining the relationship. initially they were maybe going to be closer, but i decided that if alex supposedly had a ‘normal’ life he should maybe have some human friends, so ilhan became his primary friend outside the gang. sorry sara.

apologies for the many details i got wrong or outright neglected (like gavin’s last name, which i have already forgot, or Mags’ first name, which i STILL havent come up with, despite the character having originated even before her appearance in the Northern Ridge Werewolf RP sheesh i should get on that) i tried to include physical descriptors when i remember them, but obvs they are not complete nor necessarily accurate.

#st georges info #st georges

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hricindiaconference2017-blog · 7 years

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When children have children

Priyanka Idicula of BirthVillage writes to us about the abused, pregnant teenage girls at Tejus Home who receive care and give birth at BirthVillage under the care of highly sensitive midwives. BirthVillage is a sponsor of the upcoming Human Rights in Childbirth conference here in Mumbai.

When child abuse leads to child pregnancy

“I couldn’t call out as he had stuffed a towel in my mouth and pinned me down though my mother was in the yard.”-S. aged 14.

“He had a sickle in his hand while he approached me.”-R. aged 13.

“I will kill your mother and brother should you even whisper about this.”-T. aged 15.

In 2007, the Ministry of Women and Child Development (MWCD) released a study report on child abuse. The report discusses incidence of child abuse nationwide. It is estimated that 150 million girls and 73 million boys under 18 have been subjected to forced sexual intercourse or other forms of sexual violence. In 2002 there were 53,000 reported cases of child homicide.

Teen pregnancy in India has a different hue and colour than other countries as the majority of them are pregnant through violence and abuse as opposed to from a boy friend through choice. This often leaves physical mental and emotional scars on their young minds with the added burden of social stigma and abandonment by their families. They are often vulnerable and alone. Teenage pregnancies are on the rise in India possibly due to lack of comprehensive sex education and also through perpetrated violence on young children. Though hard to grapple with, child marriage continues to prevail in modern India with statistics putting it at a good 47% in India.

“My husband (aged 45) was a good man. He brought me chocolates, milk and fruits every day and compared to living in the streets it seemed to be a better life,” says this twelve year old.

The abusers are often well into their forties, fifties and even their sixties and most often come from within their families- fathers, step fathers, cousins and uncles or simply someone the child trusted. They would often play on the submissive nature of a child who often return favours for being a ‘good child’ or it would simply be repeated acts of violence for no rhyme or reason.

Busting myths

One of the biggest myths that we understood during our various rounds with many medical practioners is the belief that young women below the age of 18 are incapable of birthing children vaginally. The most common reason stated, that the pelvis would be either be too small/contracted/or wouldn’t have developed enough.

We seem to have forgotten that most of our grandmothers from this part of the world have birthed our parents pretty much in their teens and have had large families too...

But, it became quite clear to us that after 4 years of running the Tejus home and caring for these young women, that if one girl can carry a child to term with a healthy pregnancy, then by all means the others deserve at least a good trial of labour- often to be met with nothing other than excellent outcomes.

The other sad fact that came out in the open was the unkind treatment that was meted to these young girls during checkups at medical institutions with incessant questioning. It was like they would be raped verbally over and over again.

Priyanka Idicula, CPM, weighs a healthy baby born naturally from a 13 y/o girl in BirthVillage

Filling in the gap with love & sensitivity

Tejus Home opened through a chance encounter with a pregnant thirteen year old girl, Gayathri, placed at a destitute home whom we followed through pregnancy. Unfortunately these homes are often filled with women from streets, they would tell tales to young girls about horror stories of births. She was often filled with fear with mere mention of birth. She went into labour by 38 weeks only to have c section performed within 3 hours of entry to a medical institution.

After meeting and followinf Gayathri, it became clear to us there was a definite need for:

A safe space for young pregnant teenagers which would offer good nutrition,

A space where they could laugh,

A space where they could nourish their babies,

A space where they could be free,

A space which they could call their home.

And that’s how Tejus Home was born in November 2012. It is named after Gayathri’s son, the first girl who was sheltered at the home. We work in collaboration with the child welfare committee and receive girls from all across the state. It is also mandatory that all girls would have registered FIR against the abuser.

A separate home which catered exclusively to pregnant teens did not exist in India at the time of the inception of the Home. Hence, we had no mentors or prototype to model our home on which lended us a fair share of challenges.

By virtue of running a birth centre we were also able to offer free medical care and midwifery led support for births for the girls.

They attended childbirth education classes that were tailored especially for them, keeping in mind their maturity, education level and social status and with strong emphasis on eating healthy and exercise. Theses girls went on to have very healthy pregnancies, healthy births and very healthy outcomes.

TEJUS HOME is a caring environment where abused, pregnant teenagers are given a safe and nurturing place to live; it is located in Kerala, India. It is a pilot project in partnership between two NGOs, Dil Se and Birth For Change and is recognized by the Child Welfare Committee.

Here is some of what we offer in the home:

Information and resources to help the girls make choices about their pregnancy, their baby and their future.

Counselling for the young mothers and for their family

Encouragement to continue education during pregnancy and after birth.

Free birth preparation and education classes

Free Individualized health care: prenatal, birth and postnatal care with a midwife

Sexual education

Life-skills training: self-confidence and self-esteem, assertiveness, finances, home management, gardening etc.

Baby born to a girl at the Tejus Home with the care of midwives.

A model of CARE for those who need special care

Often a simple vaginal exam can trigger the abuse that these children went through. Knowing this, throughout the entire pregnancy and birth, we strived hard to do without a single one. If absolutely required, we would do one, only if she consented.

It has been often recounted to us at our clinic that many of these young girls have still been subjected to the Two-Finger test, [what is this?] despite the clear clamp down on this procedure by the Supreme Court of India. This degrading procedure, done on a cold table by a stranger in a white coat, does nothing but to relive her trauma again.

Girls who come to the Home often tend to hide their pregnancies and have no one to confide in. They starve themselves during the initial months of the pregnancy by having just one meal a day, hoping that their bellies wouldn’t show.

They are often silenced by their abuser with threats wielded against her and her loved ones. Afraid of revealing what happened, they continue to hide under over sized clothes until it is beyond limits to cover up until the pregnancy is brought to the fore by teachers and neighbours and sometimes by their own family members.

Social osctracization is very high for these girls. One of our girls recounted how the neighbourhood threw their entire family out, which included her mother who was mentally ill, her younger sister and brother, on to the streets despite the abuser being her own father.

On arrival to the home they do take a few days to settle down, they do go through a lot of ups and downs during these days, grappling with what happened in their life. But soon after they bond so well with the other girls at the home and form friendships that often last beyond their stay at the home.

Long consults with information, love and care transforms them tremendously and they blossom well.

They motivate each other when it comes to prepping up for labor. They try hard to eat their vegetables, easily climb up to 200 steps a day, walk for over an hour and very naturally committed to a natural labour default.

Meeting challenges with determination and support

One of the biggest challenges at the home would be how late in the pregnancy these girls come to us. On average, girls come when they are around 6 months pregnant and often barely weigh around 40 kilos.

Another battle would be anaemia. These girls often have be haemoglobin levels as low as 8g/dl. We even have had reports of young girls who have not eaten anything beyond rice, potato and beetroot during their entire childhood.

Both of the above mentioned state of affairs requires a lot of work, close monitoring and encouragement from our side to get them going, especially in the face of teen rebellions.

We have been amazed at the resilience and strength of the girls when labour starts at Tejus Home. They wait it out as long as possible, go about their daily tasks with the other girls often massaging their backs and placing hot water bags. As one girl put it, “I said felt like rolling on the floor- that’s when I decided it’s time for me to go to meet my Chechis.”

These young girls have often blown us away with their shining grit and strong nerves. Rarely do we hear them say they can’t do it or let alone struggled at all in active labour or when they were pushing their babies into the world.

What was needed the most was love, support and a good pair arms to hold them in their hour of need.

We can easily say that 100 percent of the girls who have birthed at BirthVillage have birthed with gravity, in the position of their choices either using the birth rope or on the birth stool or by simply squatting on the floor.

How far love, support and belief in the efficacy of birth goes- see for yourself

Updated Tejus Home statistics currently available from 2013:

80 percent of the girls had a natural birth

5 percent were transferred for assisted delivery

15 percent were transferred for c section

(Reasons for transfer include: signs of preeclampsia and obstructed labour)

95 % of the babies born full term were above 2.5 kg

4% of the babies born passed away at three months owing to respiratory complications

80 % of them do go back to school within 6-12 weeks after having birthed their babies

The youngest girl to have had a natural birth from tejus home was 12, and the average age 15 years.

This 14 y/o received exceptionally sensitive care from midwives and gave birth naturally to a healthy baby

When birth heals

An empowering birth experience strengthens these young girls and offers them courage and hope for their lives ahead. As one of the girls put it, “A window of calm in the most trying period of their lives.”

Another remarkable common feature we observe at the Tejus Home is that after the birth, they often fall into a deep slumber for a good couple of hours as if a big weight has been lifted off their shoulders.

A good 97% of them do give up babies for adoption and as midwives it is one of the hardest things to do when the girl requests the baby not to be shown after birth or when she weeps inconsolably when she gives up her child for adoption. We have been humble witnesses as a few of them cradle their child, stroke them and even feed them even if it’s for one night.

We were also blessed as we have had quite of few of our staff who were nursing mothers themselves who offer skin to skin and have breastfed many of these babies. In addition, many of the BirthVillage mothers offer pumped milk.

Postnatal time is an equally valuable time at Tejus. The girls have to process, once again, the grief and heal both mentally and physically. They often request pictures of their babies. They draw, paint or write their emotions down in diaries and create keepsakes and often take a piece of us when it’s time to say goodbye to us, albeit to a bright future forward.

We are equally proud to say that some of our girls are currently A plus grade students at school/college and continue to win laurels, and other girls who continue shine at their vocational training.

Priyanka Idicula is certified professional midwife (U.S.A.) and is Lamaze certified childbirth educator. She is currently the director of BirthVillage, The Natural Birthing Centre in Kochin, Kerala and is the managing trustee for Birth for Change (NGO). She also carries with her bachelors and masters in microbiology and has had long stints with various MNC, the last being Johnson and Johnson where she worked as regional head for application support in the diagnostic division. She strongly advocates for evidence based maternity care and works for rights for women who are from the underprivileged sections of society.

Visit BirthVillage on the web or Facebook.

Checkout Tejus Home on Facebook and watch this beautiful short film.

Also see what Birth for Change has going on on Facebook!

Come get involved at the Human Rights in Childbirth Conference in Mumbai, India!!

Sign this petition to make it mandatory that Indian hospitals declare their c-section rates!

Check out Human Rights in Childbirth on Facebook.

Ask questions, find support and information at Birth India’s Facebook Support Group.

#hricindia2017 #birthindiaorg #breakthesilence

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